



Produced by Richard Tonsing, Jonathan Ingram and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net









THE STRAND MAGAZINE
_An Illustrated Monthly_


                        EDITED BY GEORGE NEWNES
                          Vol VII., Issue 39.
                            March, 1894

[Illustration: MR. THOMAS SIDNEY COOPER, R.A.

_From a Photo. by Elliot & Fry._]




_Illustrated Interviews._


XXXI.--MR. T. SIDNEY COOPER, R.A.

[Illustration]

The first sight I obtained of Mr. Cooper was of considerable
interest. He lives in a beautiful spot, about a mile and a half from
Canterbury--at Vernon Holme, Harbledown; and as I entered the gate
I caught sight of Mr. Cooper before his easel in his studio, taking
advantage of the light of a glorious winter's day, and working away at
a canvas which I subsequently learnt was intended, with another, to
form his contribution to this year's exhibition at the Royal Academy.
I stood for a moment quietly and respectfully looking on before
ringing the bell at the front door. The canvas presented a landscape,
and the cattle were just outlined in with pencil. The painter was
working without the aid of glasses, and this for a man who is in his
ninety-first year may certainly be said to be highly respectable.
Somewhat below the medium height, with marvellously penetrating eyes,
scarcely the sign of the stoop of old age, a hand as steady as in '35,
when he was just beginning to make a name, and silvery white hair about
his head--it was an impressive picture. T. Sidney Cooper's brilliant
work of the past and to-day calls for all recognition of his gifts, but
it is only when one catches sight of him as I did--snow, nothing but
snow, everywhere outside, and the painter, now in the winter of life,
clinging with all the old love to his sheep and cattle--it is only then
that one realizes the great respect due to the Grand Old Academician.

[Illustration: VERNON HOLME--FROM THE POND. _From a Photo. by Elliott &
Fry._]

So I shook my snow-covered boots outside and entered the hall of Vernon
Holme. The artist left his easel. It was a hearty welcome to Vernon
Holme. There was no mistaking the man. He was living there a quiet,
happy, contented, and work-a-day life; rising at half-past seven every
morning in the winter, and in the summer months at seven o'clock.
Before breakfast the palettes are set and the paints made ready. He
will work steadily up to dusk. His recreation is his Bible, and twice
a day, after lunch and dinner, a chapter is read aloud. His voice is
clear, and he reads every word, and suggests its meaning. I heard
Sidney Cooper read. His birthdays are _thinking_ days--_thankful_ days
too, it would seem. The lines he wrote on September 26th, 1889, reveal
much. He calls them "Musings on My Eighty-sixth Birthday," and they
run:--

    Another birthday dawns--the eighty-sixth,
    How little take we note of fleeting time!
    Since last this day of joyful glee was here
    What blessings have been mine; alas! how oft
    Have unrequited been! The cares of life
    Engross my thoughts when holy things my heart
    Should fill. Thou who hast made my way of life
    So full of mercies, be Thou still my help.
    When o'er this day of life the night shall fall,
    And called my feet to pass thro' ways unknown,
    Be near me still; be Thou my strength; and when
    The walls decay leave not the tenant lone,
    But by Thy Spirit comfort and uphold;
    I have but Thee, I have no claim of Gate
    Of Pearl, or Street of Glittering Gold, but thro'
    Thy boundless grace, my good and bad are both
    Forgiven. In humble fitting place among
    The many mansions, where there is no sin,
    And by Thy Crystal River flowing on
    Through Heaven's green expanse, I'll learn the new
    And holy song of Worthy is the Lamb,
    And 'neath the Healing Tree shall find that life
    Wished for so long!!!

Then he loves to take you about his house, for it is a very beautiful
home, and the man who owns it enjoys its comforts the more, for he will
honestly tell you that it meant working for.

"I don't do anything without authority," he told me; "I have authority
for everything I paint. If I want a sky for any particular picture, I
do it from my house. I have windows from all four sides, so that I can
see always. Then in the summer I can sit on the lawn and paint. There
are some of my sheep--my'models'!"

We were standing in the recess of the dining