ho desired to speak with the Keeper of the Academy, followed
so close upon the porter whose business it was to introduce him, that he
announced himself with, "I hope I don't intrude." "You do intrude," said
Fuseli, in a surly tone. "Do I?" said the visitor; "then, sir, I will
come to-morrow, if you please." "No, sir," replied he, "don't come
to-morrow, for then you will intrude a second time: tell me your
business now!"

A man of some station in society, and who considered himself a powerful
patron in art, said at a public dinner, where he was charmed with
Fuseli's conversation, "If you ever come my way, Fuseli, I shall be
happy to see you." The painter instantly caught the patronizing,
self-important spirit of the invitation. "I thank you," retorted he,
"but I never go your way--I never even go down your street, although I
often pass by the end of it!"

FUSELI'S SUGGESTION OF AN EMBLEM OF ETERNITY

Looking upon a serpent with its tail in its mouth, carved upon an
exhibited monument as an emblem of Eternity, and a very commonplace one,
he said to the sculptor, "It won't do, I tell you; you must have
something new." The _something new_ startled a man whose imagination was
none of the brightest, and he said, "How shall I find something new?"
"O, nothing so easy," said Fuseli, "I'll help you to it. When I went
away to Rome I left two fat men cutting fat bacon in St. Martin's Lane;
in ten years' time I returned, and found the two fat men cutting fat
bacon still; twenty years more have passed, and there the two fat
fellows cut the fat flitches the same as ever. Carve them! if they look
not like an image of eternity, I wot not what does."

FUSELI'S REPORT IN MR. COUTTS' BANKING HOUSE.

During the exhibition of his Milton pictures, he called at the banking
house of Mr. Coutts, saying he was going out of town for a few days, and
wished to have some money in his pocket. "How much?" said one of the
firm. "How much!" said Fuseli, "why, as much as twenty pounds; and as it
is a large sum, and I don't wish to take your establishment by surprise,
I have called to give you a day's notice of it!" "I thank you, sir,"
said the cashier, imitating Fuseli's own tone of irony, "we shall be
ready for you--but as the town is thin and money scarce with us, you
will oblige me greatly by giving us a few orders to see your Milton
Gallery--it will keep cash in our drawers, and hinder your exhibition
from being empty." Fuseli shook him heart