The professor received us in a room which appeared to answer many purposes, being obviously a sleeping as well as a sitting-room, but perfectly neat. I saw at once that there was every where a woman's superintending eye and thoughtful care; but did not know at the moment that he was married. He received us with open-hearted frankness, at the same time throwing on the stranger one of those quick glances which seemed to look through me: in return, I contemplated him with inexpressible interest. His figure is rather larger, and more portly than I had expected; but I admired his fine Titanic head, so large, and so sublime in its expression; his light blue eye, wild and wide, which seemed to drink in meaning and flash out light; his hair profuse, grizzled, and flowing in masses round his head: and his expanded brow full of poetry and power. In his deportment he is a mere child of nature, simple, careless, saying just what he feels and thinks at the moment, without regard to forms; yet pleasing from the benevolent earnestness of his manner, and intuitively polite without being polished. After some conversation, he took us into his painting room. As a colourist, I believe his style is criticised, and open to criticism; it is at least singular; but I must confess that while I was looking over his things I was engrossed by the one conviction;--that while his peculiar merits, and the preference of one manner to another may be a matter of argument or taste, it is certain, and indisputable, that no one paints _like_ Retzsch, and that, in the original power and fertility of _conception_, in the quantity of _mind_ which he brings to bear upon his subject, he is in his own style unequalled and inimitable. I was rather surprised to see in some of his designs and pencil drawings, the most elaborate delicacy of touch, and most finished execution of parts, combined with a fancy which seems to run wild over his paper or his canvas; but only _seems_--for it must be remarked, that with all this luxuriance of imagination, there is no exaggeration, either of form or feeling; he is peculiar, fantastic, even extravagant--but never false in sentiment or expression. The reason is, that in Retzsch's character the moral sentiments are strongly developed; where _they_ are deficient, let the artist who aims at the highest poetical department of excellence, despair; for no possession of creative talent, nor professional skill, nor conventional taste, will supply that main deficiency. I saw in Retzsch's atelier many things novel, beautiful, and interesting; but will note only a few, which have dwelt upon my memory, as being characteristic of the man as well as the artist.