MY DEAR LEIGHTON,--I feel so awkward whenever I attempt to praise a man's works to his face, and I felt that you, yesterday, were so likely to be bored with the repetition of similar speeches from your large influx of visitors, that at the moment of my going I could not bring myself to say what I wished to say--how much I liked your pictures. To-day, however, when "Dante" and "Orpheus," and the music and drawing parties are before my mind as vividly as they were yesterday before my eyes in your studio, I cannot resist sending you a few lines to say what pleasure my visit gave me, although I was "without words." The "Dante" seemed to me a very impressive picture, and I think one of the most important as well as most successful of your works, historical in a higher sense than the mere representation of an event--an illustration of the man and the time. I could mention many of the figures that especially pleased me, but, for beauty, can only single out that most delightful little child in the foreground, toddling at the feet of Dante, laden with flowers, the childhood and innocence of whose whole figure and face, although we do not see the face, contrasts so beautifully with the worn, ascetic, melancholy Poet. I think these two are a poem in themselves. The lady in the "drawing lesson" struck me as a charming figure, so graceful, and the painting of her dress as a perfect piece of work. The lady leaning over the instrument in the "music" ("Golden Hours") subject is also a great favourite of mine. The "Orpheus," although there is a great deal to admire in it, I don't think I liked so well as the others. Perhaps it is that the classic subject does not come home to me, but I say this doubtingly, feeling that it is a picture that would very likely grow upon me. Anyhow, I end by offering you my most hearty congratulations.--Most sincerely yours, RICHARD DOYLE. [39] Referring to Leighton's painting of "Helen of Troy," exhibited in 1865, Mr. Martin Tupper wrote:-- ALBURY HOUSE, NR. GUILFORD, _May 23, 1865_. DEAR SIR,--It is just possible that the following few words of comment upon your wonderfully spiritualised "Helen of Troy" may be acceptable to you from the undersigned. The "Helen" of Euripides is very little read amongst us, and yet it is as strangely sensational as "The Woman in White": there being two Helens in the play, the real substantial wife remaining faithful to Menelaus in the island of Pharos, while Juno gives to Paris--out of jealous rage at him for his "judgment" in favour of Venus--"an image composed of ether" in the likeness of Helen.