1827.

SYSTEMS.

23

"In writing to a doctor, I ought to say something about medicine. It is obvious I can know nothing really or scientifically of the state of this art in Naples; but in a place where people devote themselves so much to pleasure there must be a sufficient portion of disease; and, as all are seeking some universal remedy, different medicines and different systems rise and fall as fashion dictates. When I first came here, all the world was running after a course of violent purgatives, introduced by the pamphlet of Monsieur Le Roi; such was the rage for this man's medicine, that it was sufficient to occasion the popularity and success of a dramatic piece founded on the mania, and performed at the Neapolitan theatre. To this succeeded the system of Hahnemann, which was practised here by one of his pupils of the name of Necker; but now everything is beaten out of the field by mustard-seed. Mr. Turner (who is making a crusade, not to plant the cross on the walls of Jerusalem, but to plant mustard-seed in the stomachs of all the inhabitants of the globe) has been here also. He would persuade us that there is now no longer any occasion for disease or suffering, all the evils of life are at an end; and we have only to live on in peace and quiet to the extremest old age, without pain and without anxiety, we have nothing to do but to take mustardseed! Necker's practice, or rather Hahnemann's, occasioned so much talk in the medical world, that Dr. Quin found it necessary last summer to go into Germany to study it. It goes upon the system of curing disorders

by the thing which occasions them, just as you would put a burnt hand into turpentine, or hold it to the fire. The great mystery of it is the inconceivably small doses administered. It is so contrary to all our preconceived notions, that it calls largely on our faith. Quin has come back, if not a convert to the doctrine, at least so impressed with its importance as to continue his study with much perseverance and ardour; and Quin is anything but a trifler. I am not sure whether this system has yet reached England. All the medical men here, with the exception of Quin, are loud against it. Your friend R,who, by the way, has a good deal of the old woman about him, gets red in the face and almost foams at the mouth whenever it is made a matter of conversation. They all predicted that the entertaining it for a moment would ruin my little friend, and they were already shouting in triumph over his fallen reputation. So far from this being the case, however, Quin's popularity has greatly increased this season, and he has done more than all the rest of them together. He does not exclusively adopt the new system, but if people wish to be treated according to it, he does not refuse.

"I have had a sitting this morning of the celebrated cantatrice, Madame Pasta. I never saw a person with so little the manners of a woman of the theatre. It is said of actors in general that they act off the stage as well as on, but I suspect this applies to second-rates. La Pasta, however, the great, the unrivalled La Pasta,

1827.

LA PASTA.

25

is the simplest, gentlest, kindest, most unassuming creature I ever met with. She has so much genuine modesty and unaffected simplicity about her, that while sitting in her company I can hardly believe she is the same person whose very appearance on the stage is hailed with enthusiastic plaudits, and about whom all the world is running mad. She talks little, but what she does say is expressed with energy and feeling. I am told that, though so long accustomed to the stage, she never appears on it without timidity and trembling.

"This letter is out of course it was begun without subject, and continued merely from the point of honour. I can never reconcile it to my conscience to send a letter to you without filling the sheet. I am much disappointed at not hearing that Mr. Raine has called upon you. I flattered myself with the prospect of having my vanity gratified by his showing you a little picture he bought of me. If he should come, and you should get acquainted, you may offer to keep the picture for him, if it be any accommodation, until he get a house to put it in. At your place some of my friends the artists might get an opportunity of seeing it, which to me would be a great gratification. I am hard at work, but I can say nothing decidedly about the time of my leaving, because it will depend on my getting through things begun.

"I have just got a letter from Eastlake at Rome, in which he says, 'Wilkie is painting here with great

spirit. He has done a confessional scene, with stuff in it equal to Rembrandt.' I wish you to read this to Raimbach, and tell Raimbach, too, that Wilkie has been in the habit of mentioning my name to his friends in a way that has added greatly to my reputation. I do not know how enough to express my gratitude to him. Wilkie, besides the 'Confession,' has done a picture of the Calabrian Pipers,' and one of the 'Washing the Pilgrims' Feet;' so that his health must be greatly improved, at which I am sure Raimbach, as well as all his friends, will rejoice. It is a curious coincidence that, without any knowledge of what Wilkie was doing, I have begun the very same subjects, the 'Pipers' and the 'Confession,' and they are the two that I expect to bring with me to London. My season on the whole has not been a very brilliant one, but I must not complain or repine. My health has been excellent. Remember me particularly to the Giles's, to my friend Mr. Kingdon, and to all others who honour me with a corner in their memories.

"T. U.

"P.S. Pray beg of Mr. Raine to write to me, or to let me know where I can write to him.”

"Dear Zechariah,

"March 11 (?), 1827. Naples.

"In consequence of the system I have imposed on myself of writing alternately to David and to you, it sometimes happens that I have to answer David's letters through you and yours through him. From the date of

1827.

EXPLANATION.

27

his last I could almost fancy there must be one missing, which I directed to him, I think, in January. In future I will never omit to make a memorandum of the day on which I write. You will receive one of the 6th of this month, and David one of the 8th.

"To prevent any mistake or misconception on your part about my plans, I will now tell you what, as far as it is possible for me to decide, I have decided on. First of all, I entirely give up the temptation offered me by Ackermann and Prout. Had I not been to Venice, I might have seized on it as an opportunity of visiting that scene of poetry and enchantment. But having been there, the case is different, and I can now only think of it in the light of a money speculation; for I can honestly assure you, whatever my friends may think, I have not the least ambition for the reputation of an author. In all the letters I have written from the Continent, I have had no other object but to acquit myself of what appeared to me a duty, and no other desire than to give you pleasure. As a money speculation, it will not bear entertaining for a moment; because, even though they may be content to pay me handsomely, yet, as it will necessarily take me away from art, to which I must look for my living, and as it will lead to nothing in the way of prospect or employment, it must be a dissipation of my mental energies, and a consequent loss to my main interests. I know my own feelings too well to trust myself with such an undertaking. I know that common exertions would not