d when some one officiously told him this, and said,
"Aye! he has sat to me many times." Once, at Johnson the bookseller's
table, one of the guests said, "Mr. Fuseli, I have purchased a picture
of yours." "Have you, sir; what is the subject?" "Subject? really I
don't know." "That's odd; you must be a strange fellow to buy a picture
without knowing the subject." "I bought it, sir, that's enough--I don't
know what the _devil_ it is." "Perhaps it is the devil," replied Fuseli,
"I have often painted him." Upon this, one of the company, to arrest a
conversation which was growing warm, said, "Fuseli, there is a member of
your Academy who has strange looks--and he chooses as strange subjects
as you do." "Sir," exclaimed the Professor, "he paints nothing but
thieves and murderers, and when he wants a model, he looks in the
glass."

FUSELI'S AND LAWRENCE'S PICTURES FROM THE "TEMPEST."

Cunningham says, "Fuseli had sketched a picture of Miranda and Prospero
from the Tempest, and was considering of what dimensions he should make
the finished painting, when he was told that Lawrence had sent in for
exhibition a picture on the same subject, and with the same figures.
His wrath knew no bounds. 'This comes,' he cried, 'of my blasted
simplicity in showing my sketches--never mind--I'll teach the
face-painter to meddle with my Prospero and Miranda.' He had no canvas
prepared--he took a finished picture, and over the old performance
dashed in hastily, in one laborious day, a wondrous scene from the
Tempest--hung it in the exhibition right opposite that of Lawrence, and
called it 'a sketch for a large picture.' Sir Thomas said little, but
thought much--he never afterwards, I have heard, exhibited a poetic
subject."

FUSELI'S ESTIMATE OF REYNOLDS' ABILITIES IN HISTORICAL PAINTING.

Fuseli mentions Reynolds in his Lectures, as a great portrait painter,
and no more. One evening in company, Sir Thomas Lawrence was discoursing
on what he called the "historic grandeur" of Sir Joshua, and contrasting
him with Titian and Raffaelle. Fuseli kindled up--"Blastation! you will
drive me mad--Reynolds and Raffaelle!--a dwarf and a giant!--why will
you waste all your fine words?" He rose and left the room, muttering
something about a tempest in a pint pot. Lawrence followed, soothed him,
and brought him back.

FUSELI AND LAWRENCE.

"These two eminent men," says Cunningham, "loved one another. The Keeper
had no wish to give permanent offence,