How mistaken is this kind of opinion we have hardly need to point out. How prosaic may be a poet's life our readers will probably not care to question. And if any doubt haloed the artist with an unreal interest and charm, the biography of the late Mr. Turner[23] will pretty well disperse anything of the kind. A statement of the plain facts of the matter clears away all mirage of fancy and romance, and,--as in cruelly restored pictures, the beautiful glazing well scoured off,--we come then to the mere raw paint, and coarse canvas, unattractiveness, even ugliness. [23] In 1861 was published _The Life of J.M.W. Turner, R.A._, founded on letters and papers furnished by his friends and Fellow Academicians; by Walter Thornbury. In a more recent work, _Haunted London_ (1865), Mr. Thornbury has himself passed judgment upon his _Life of Turner_, pronouncing it to be 'a careless book, but still containing much curious, authentic, and original anecdote.' In truth, the sunshine pictures of Turner were evolved from a life as dingy and uncomely as could well be. It is difficult to conceive any correspondence, any _rapport_ between workmanship so exquisite, and a workman in every way so unattractive, so little estimable. But just as from the small dusky insect in the hedges at night proceeds a phosphorescent flame of great power and beauty--just as from a miserable-looking, coarse, common flint are emitted sparks of superb brilliance,--so from the hands of this strange, sordid, shambling man came art-achievements almost without precedent in the history of painting. Joseph Mallord William Turner was born on the 23d April (St. George's day) 1775, in a house (recently pulled down and reconstructed) opposite what used to be called the Cider Cellars in Maiden Lane, Covent Garden. Through a narrow arched passage, closed by an iron gate, was formerly obtained, by a narrow door on the left-hand side, access to the small but respectable shop of William Turner, barber, the father of the painter. The trade could hardly have been an unprosperous one in those days of perukes and powder and pomatumed edifices of hair, and when, moreover, 'the Garden' was a not unfashionable locality. The new-born was baptized on the 14th May following, in the parish church of St. Paul's, where also, it may be said, his father had been married (by license) to Mary Marshall, also of the same parish, on the 29th August 1773. The registers recording these important events are still extant.