schools of design, a reduction in the power of the Council, and an
annual grant of public money for purposes of art. In these days, when
the Academicians are no longer regarded as a sacred body, it is hard
to realise the commotion that these letters made in art circles,
whether professional or amateur. The identity of the 'English Student'
was soon discovered, and 'from that moment,' writes Haydon, 'the
destiny of my life was changed. My picture was caricatured, my name
detested, my peace harassed. I was looked at like a monster, abused
like a plague, and avoided like a maniac.' There is probably some
characteristic exaggeration in this statement, but considering the
power wielded at this time by the Academy and its supporters, Haydon
would undoubtedly have done better, from a worldly point of view, to
keep clear of these controversies. The prudent and sensible Wilkie was
much distressed at his friend's ebullition of temper, and earnestly
advised him to follow up the reputation his brush had gained for him,
and leave the pen alone. 'In moments of depression,' wrote Haydon,
many years later, 'I often wished I had followed Wilkie's advice, but
then I should never have acquired that grand and isolated reputation,
solitary and unsupported, which, while it encumbers the individual,
inspires him with vigour proportioned to the load.'

On April 3, 1812, Haydon records in his journal: 'My canvas came home
for Solomon, twelve feet ten inches by ten feet ten inches--a grand
size. God in heaven, grant me strength of body and vigour of mind to
cover it with excellence. Amen--on my knees.' His design was to paint
a series of great ideal works, that should stand comparison with the
productions of the old masters, and he had chosen the somewhat
stereotyped subject of the Judgment of Solomon, because Raphael and
Rubens had both tried it, and he intended to tell the story better! He
was now, at the beginning of this ambitious project, entirely without