his pallid model, whispering, "Egad, Bewick, I have just been
arrested; that is the third time. If they come again, I shall not be
able to go on."'

On December 7, the Lazarus was finished, and five days later Haydon's
eldest son Frank was born. The happy father was profoundly moved by
his new responsibilities, as well as by his wife's suffering and
danger. On the last day of 1822 he thanks his Maker for the happiest
year of his life, and also 'for being permitted to finish another
great picture, which must add to my reputation, and go to strengthen
the art.... Grant it triumphant success. Grant that I may soon begin
the "Crucifixion," and persevere with that, until I bring it to a
conclusion equally positive and glorious.' Haydon's prayers, which
have been not inaptly described as 'begging letters to the Almighty,'
are invariably couched in terms that would be appropriate in an appeal
to the President of a Celestial Academy. As his biographer points out,
he prayed as though he would take heaven by storm, and although he
often asked for humility, the demands for this gift bore very little
proportion to those for glories and triumphs.

The Lazarus, though it showed signs of haste and exaggeration, natural
enough considering the conditions under which it was painted, was
acclaimed as a great work, and the receipts from its exhibition were
of a most satisfactory nature, mounting up to nearly two hundred
pounds a week. Instead of calling his creditors together, and coming
to some arrangement with them, Haydon, rendered over-confident by
success, spent his time in preparing a new and vaster canvas for his
conception of the Crucifixion. The sight of crowds of people paying
their shillings to view the Lazarus roused the cupidity of one of the
creditors, who, against his own interests, killed the goose that was