_Noblesse oblige_: his manners matched his art; Fine painter-skill, the bearing of a prince.
The writer alludes to the malignant disparagement indulged in by his detractors and sums up:--
Great if not quite among the greatest, here A noble artist of a noble life Rests with a fame that lives, and need not fear Detraction or the hour's ephemeral strife.
Leighton's generosity and munificence to brother artists deserved all and more than all that _Punch_ said: his fame as an artist has hardly borne out the prediction of the last couplet. Sir John Millais, his successor, was linked by more intimate ties from the days of _Once a Week_. Du Maurier was one of his dearest friends, and _Punch_ claimed to have been alone, save for the _Spectator_, in acclaiming the genius of his early work. As he happily says, "from P.R.B, to P.R.A.--that tale is worth the telling." Millais only lived a few months to enjoy his honour, and on his death in the summer of 1896 _Punch_ dwelt on his triple endowment of health, heartiness and power, his entirely English spirit, his mastery as a painter, and his genius for friendship.
Sir John Gilbert, who died a year later, was an old comrade and contributor. He had designed the fourth wrapper in January, 1843--Doyle's final design was not adopted till six years later--and contributed intermittently to _Punch_ down to 1882. His robust and spirited talent as an illustrator is acknowledged in _Punch's_ tribute:--
The faded history of courts and kings Touched by your spell took on its former hue; You made the daily art of common things Fresh as the morning dew.
A deeper note is sounded in _Punch's_ salutation of Watts on his death in 1904, when he recognizes the fidelity of that illustrious artist to his conception of the high mission of Art and his well-known repudiation of the maxim "Art for Art's Sake":--
His means were servants to the end in view And not the end's self; so his heart was wise To hold--as they have held, the chosen few-- High failure dearer than the easy prize.
Now lifted face to face with unseen things, Dimly imagined in the lower life, He sees his Hope renew her broken strings, And _Love and Death_ no more at bitter strife.
To retrace our steps to the 'nineties, it must be admitted that _Punch_ enjoyed himself more in belabouring Beardsley than in saluting established reputations. Seeing nothing in his work but a wilful, exotic and decadent _bizarrerie_, _Punch_ assailed him under various _aliases_, all of them grotesque and uncomplimentary. In 1893 the famous Beardsley "poster" for the Avenue Theatre inspired the lines headed "Ars Postera," which begin:--
