After all, the woes of the house of Atreus are now of very little importance to mankind, or interest either. The most of the latter they possess, is that they serve as themes for some good Greek play, which had better have been burnt, as they have hampered the genius of modern Europe and taught us nothing. Had only Homer and the lyrics survived, we should have done better. At all events, if a man must illustrate, why does he not illustrate Shakespeare, a bigger man head and shoulders than any of the Greek tragedists? But it appears to me you are made for a much better and more intellectual purpose than illustrating anybody. You have the eye to see and power to represent what you see. You have special gifts and faculties highly trained. The aspect of nature, as it appears to such a mind, would be of the highest intellectual value to us, and would lead to progress. I don't think modern art differs from that of any other day. It has always been the effort to represent what is seen every day, bringing to bear upon the representation the greatest possible amount of culture, _i.e._ of reflection and selection. The women and that dear little girl in the courtyard of your Jew's house will outlive all the "Clytemnestras," &c.; they live with blood in their veins, the others are but galvanised corpses. There I have had it out; you must not complain, because you have had to apologise for slashing into me, and now it is my turn. In the prologue to Goethe's "Faust," if you remember, the poet, a stubborn fellow, has his notions of the high aim of his art. He will do nothing but what is extremely sublime, &c. The clown quite agrees that such things may possibly do for the future, but who, says he, is to amuse the present? I am that sort of clown, I suppose. Don't be riled, and believe me,--Very much your admiring friend, J.G. HODGSON. [54] Mr. William Spottiswoode wrote of one of these:-- "DEAR LEIGHTON,--Best of thanks from Mrs. Spottiswoode and myself for another of the happiest day-dreams of the year, viz. your afternoons at home." [55] Mr. Aitchison, R.A., wrote: "During his visits to Rhodes, to Cairo, and Damascus, he made a large collection of lovely Saracenic tiles, and had besides bought two inscriptions, one of the most delicate colour and beautiful design, and the other sixteen feet long and strikingly magnificent, besides getting some panels, stained glass, and lattice-work from Damascus afterwards; these were fitted into an Arab Hall, something like La Zira at Palermo, in 1877."