BENJAMIN ROBERT, historical painter and writer, was descended from an old Devon family, the Haydens of Boughwood, Cadby, and Woodbury. He was an only son and was born January 26, 1786. His mother was the daughter of the Rev. Benjamin Cobley, rector of Dodbrook, Devon, whose son, General Sir Thomas Cobley, signalized himself at the siege of Ismail. His father was a man of great literary taste, and was well known and esteemed amongst all classes in Plymouth. Haydon, at an early age, gave evidence of his taste for study, which was carefully fostered and promoted by his mother. At the age of ten he was placed at Plymouth grammar school where his love of study and painting was still further developed by the principal, himself a man of refined taste and great artistic acquirements. At the age of fourteen he was sent to Plympton St Mary school. He completed his education in this school where Sir Joshua Reynolds also had acquired all the scholastic knowledge he ever received. On the ceiling of the school-room was a sketch by Reynolds in burnt cork, which it used to be Haydon's delight to sit and contemplate. Whilst at school he had some thought of adopting the medical profession, but he was so shocked at the sight of an operation that he gave up the idea. A perusal of Albionus, however, inspired him with a love for anatomy; and Reynolds' discourses aroused within him his smouldering taste for painting, which, from his earliest childhood, had been the absorbing idea of his mind. Sanguine of success, full of energy and vigour, he started from his parental roof May 14, 1804, for London, and entered his name as a student of the Royal Academy. He began and prosecuted his studies with such unwearied ardour that Fuseli wondered when he ever found time to eat. At the age of twenty-one (1807) Haydon exhibited, for the first time, at the Royal Academy, "Repose in Egypt," which was bought by Mr Thomas Hope the year after. This was a good introduction to the young artist, who shortly after received a commission from Lord Mulgrave and an introduction to Sir George Beaumont. In this year also he finished his well-known picture of "Dentatus," which, though it brought him a great increase of fame, involved him in a violent and life-long quarrel with the Royal Academy, whose committee had hung the picture in a small side-room instead of in the great hall. Haydon saw in this act an attempt to crush him by depriving him of his due; and his subsequent conduct was disastrous chiefly to himself. In 1810 his difficulties began, though he was still receiving from his father an allowance of £200 a-year. Bad luck also attended his struggles for professional advancement; for, though he put his name down for admission into the academy, he did not obtain a single vote. His disappointment was embittered by the controversies in which he now became involved with Leigh Hunt, with Sir George Beaumont, for whom he had painted his famous picture of "Macbeth," and Mr Payne Knight, the last of whom had denied the beauties as well as the value of the Elgin Marbles. The "Judgment of Solomon," his next production, gained him £700, besides L100 voted to him by the directors of the British Institution, and the freedom of the borough of Plymouth. Success rewarded his efforts. West wept on beholding the "Pale Fainting Mother;" and Miss Mitford addressed to him one of her best sonnets. To recruit his health and escape for a time from the cares of London life, Haydon joined Wilkie in a trip to Paris; he studied at the Louvre; and on his return to England produced his "Christ's Entry into Jerusalem," which afterwards formed the nucleus for the American Gallery of Painting, which was erected by his cousin John Hainland of Philadelphia. With such professional renown as he had now acquired, Haydon again aspired for admittance into the Royal Academy, and was again unsuccessful. Amid the trials and difficulties of this period of his life, he found time to write a long and elaborate essay on Painting for the Encyclopaedia Britannica. This essay has been twice reprinted. (See article Painting.) Whilst painting "Lazarus," his pecuniary difficulties increased, and for the first time, he was arrested but not imprisoned, the sheriff-officer taking his word for his appearance. Amidst all these harassing cares he married. In 1823, Haydon was lodged in the King's Bench, where he received the most consoling letters from the first men of the day. Whilst a prisoner he drew up a petition to Parliament in favour of the Elgin Marbles, which was presented by Mr Brougham. He also produced the picture of the "Mock Election," the idea of which had been suggested by an incident that happened in the prison. The king (George IV.) gave him £500 for this picture, and Haydon was enabled to purchase his release. Haydon's other pictures were—1830, "Euclides" and "Punch;" 1831, "Napoleon at St Helena;" for Sir Robert Peel; 1832, "Xenophon, on his Retreat with the Ten Thousand," first seeing the Sea at Thebes; "Waiting for the Times," purchased by the Marquis of Stafford; "The First Child;" "Reading the Scriptures;" "Stafford;" and "Achilles playing the Lyre." In 1834 he completed the "Reform Banquet," for Lord Grey—this painting contained 197 portraits; 1843, "Curtius Leaping into the Gulf;" and "Uriel and Satan." When the competition took place at Westminster Hall, Haydon sent two Cartoons, "The Curse," and "Edward the Black Prince," but had not the good fortune to succeed with either. He then painted "The Banishment of Aristides," which was exhibited with other unfinished productions under the same roof where Tom Thumb was then making his debut in London. The exhibition was unsuccessful; and the artist's difficulties increased to such an extent that whilst employed on his last grand effort, "Alfred and the Trial by Jury," overcome by debt, disappointment, and ingratitude, he wrote, "Stretch me no longer on this rough world," and put an end to his existence, June 22, 1846, in the 61st year of his age. He left a widow and three children, who, by the generosity of their father's friends, were rescued from their pecuniary difficulties, and comfortably provided for; amongst the foremost of these friends were the late Sir Robert Peel, Le Comte A. D'Orsay, Mr Justice Talfourd, and Lord Carlisle. Haydon began his first lecture on painting and design in 1835, at the Mechanics' Institution, and afterwards visited all the principal towns in England and Scotland. His delivery was energetic and imposing, his language powerful, flowing, and apt, and abounded with wit and humour; and to look at the lecturer excited by his subject, one could scarcely fancy him a man overwhelmed with difficulties and anxieties. It has been said that the height of Haydon's ambition was to behold the first buildings of his country adorned with historical representations of her former glory. He lived to see the Haye, La., acknowledgement of his principles by government in the establishment of schools of design, and the embellishment of the new houses of parliament, but in the competition of artists for the carrying out of this object. The Commissioners (amongst whom was one of his former pupils) considered he had failed; and whilst employed in a series of gigantic paintings, which were executed to show to the world the falseness of their judgment, he ended his life, as we have before mentioned. Haydon was well versed in all points of his profession; and his Lectures which were published shortly after their delivery, showed that he was as bold a writer as he was a painter. Although many of his early productions in portrait-painting were truthful and striking (even at the early age of eighteen, he had given evidence of great talent), Haydon never pursued this branch of his art, except as a means for enabling him to carry out his ideas of high art. To form a correct estimate of Haydon, it is only necessary to read his autobiography. He there solves the mystery of his own life as unconsciously and as fully as Montaigne and Rousseau. It is one of the most natural books ever written. The author seems to have daguerreotyped his feelings and sentiments without restraint as they rose in his mind, and his portrait stands in these volumes limned to the life by his own hand. His mind was a peculiarly ill-regulated one. It was not governed by any ruling principle; his love for his art was rather a passion than a principle. He went to London to seek his fortune, believing, as young men will, in patrons. He found patrons difficult to manage; and not having the tact to lead them gently, he tried to drive them fiercely. He failed of course; abused patrons and patronage, and intermingled talk of the noblest independence with acts of the grossest servility. It was to himself, and to himself only, that he owed his frequent disappointments and his wretched life. He was self-willed to perversity, but his perseverance was such as is seldom associated with so much vehemence and passion as belonged to him. With a large fund of genuine self-reliance, he combined a vanity so boundless that it would have been ludicrous if it had not been pitiable. To the very last he believed in his own powers, and in the ultimate triumph of art, though he seems to have hoped for art only through himself as its successful champion. In taste and judgment he was alike deficient, in everything at least that concerned himself. Hence the boisterous and exaggerated tone of self-assertion which he assumed in his advertisements, catalogues, and other appeals to the public. He proclaimed himself the apostle and martyr of high art, and believed himself to have on that account, a claim on the sympathy and support of the nation. It must be confessed that he often tested severely those whom he called his friends; and few men's friends ever stood the test so well. All the money that he borrowed and begged, he, no doubt, intended to repay; and there is no reason why he should not have fulfilled his intention, as his contemporary and fellow-sufferer, Etty, did. Had he possessed even ordinary prudence, he might have reached the haven sooner and more quietly even than the other. Every reader of his autobiography will be struck at the frequency and fervour of the short prayers interspersed throughout the work—the begging letters despatched to the Almighty," as they have been called. Haydon had an overwhelming sense of a personal, overruling and merciful providence, which influenced his relations with his family, and to some extent with the world. Whatever he may have been as an artist and a citizen, his conduct as a husband and as a father is beyond all praise.