he invited me to visit him at his rooms the
next day at four, to talk with him about my studies, proffering any
counsel in his gift, but assuring me that it was impossible for him to
receive me into his studio, as he could not work in the room with
another, and his strength and occupations did not permit him to have a
school apart, as he once had.

At the appointed time I presented myself, and was received very
pleasantly in a little drawing-room at his house in the Latin Quarter.
His appearance, to me, was prepossessing; and though I had heard French
artists speak of him as morose and bearish, I must say that his whole
manner was most kindly and sympathetic, though not demonstrative. He was
small, spare, and nervous-looking, with evident ill-health in his face
and bearing, and under slight provocation, I should think, might have
been disagreeable, but had nothing egoistic in his manner, and, unlike
most celebrated artists, didn't seem to care to talk about his own
pictures. After personal inquiries of my studies and the masters whom I
knew and had studied, and most kindly, but appreciative criticism on all
whom we spoke of, "Ah," said he, "I could not have an _atelier_ (i.e.
school-_atelier_) now, the spirit in which the young artists approach
their work now is so different from that of the time when I was in the
school. Then they were earnest, resolute men: there were Delaroche and
Vernet," and others he mentioned, whose names I cannot remember, "men
who went into their painting with their whole souls and in seriousness;
but now the students come into the _atelier_ to laugh and joke and
frolic, as if Art were a game; there is an utter want of seriousness in
the young men now which would make it impossible for me to teach them. I
should be glad to direct your studies, but the work on which I am
engaged leaves me no time to dispose of." I asked if I could not
sometime see him working; but he replied that it was quite impossible
for him to work with any one looking on.

I asked him where, to his mind, was the principal want of the modern
schools. He replied, "In execution; there is intellect enough, intention
enough, and sometimes great conception, but everywhere a want of
executive ability, which enfeebles all they do. They work too much with
the crayon, instead of studying with the brush. If they want to be
engravers, it is all well enough to work in charcoal; but the execution
of an engraver is not that of a painter.