Holl had discarded his pathetic subjects for portraits, and surprised the art world with a vigorous canvas of the celebrated mezzotint engraver, Samuel Cousins, which was followed by an equally strong portrait of Piatti the violoncello player. Consequently, he became quite the vogue and was until his death completely occupied with commissions. I think that of his many successes the painting of Lord Spencer was perhaps his finest portrait. Holman Hunt (Ruskin's ideal painter) had no following as a portrait painter; his portraits were hard, "tinny," and laboured, and became singularly unpleasant on a large canvas, although his subject pictures were conceived from a high standpoint, and for that reason will last. Old George Richmond was a highly accomplished draughtsman; many of his portraits in crayon were exquisite masterpieces,[5] and most of the great men of the day (especially the clergy) were depicted at one time or another by his refined pencil. William Richmond (now Sir William), his son, inherited his father's talent but in a different manner; foremost in my memory stands out a portrait of Lady Hood. [Illustration: MRS GEORGE REYMOND MURRAY.] [Illustration: A STUDY.] [Illustration: THE HON. MRS ADRIAN POLLOCK.] Ouless, the eminent portrait painter, like Millais, was a Jersey man, and both were highly successful students in their respective days at the R.A. Schools. The painter of "The Doctor," now Sir Luke Fildes, exhibited a very beautiful portrait of his wife, which established him as a portrait painter at once, and it is unnecessary to say how many fine portraits he has painted since. Lord Leighton showed what refinement meant in his delineation of a beautiful woman's head, and although his method of painting was scarcely adapted to portraits, he showed great force in a head of Richard Burton, the traveller. When I was drawing Leighton for the _Graphic_ years ago, he amused me by saying:-- "Every one has his prototype, and some people resemble animals. What do I remind you of?" When Lord Leighton compared his own head with that of a ram, I saw the resemblance at once: his hair curled like horns upon his forehead, and the general contour of his features was certainly reminiscent of that animal. I must not forget the late Sir L. Alma Tadema, another subject painter, but one who did not often encroach upon the sphere of portraiture. When he did, I often traced a certain resemblance in his painting of the flesh to the marble he so perfectly expressed in his subject pictures. Seymour Lucas is, I consider, one of our few and consistent historical painters who can mingle portraiture successfully with his own art.