he walked back at night; his host sending a servant with a lantern to guide him through the darkness to 'the village.' On his way from Fountain Court to North End, he would often call on a young artist, also a frequent visitor of Mr. Linnell's,—one day to be more nearly related,—and the two would walk up together. This was Mr. Samuel Palmer, now an accomplished Painter of poetic landscape, well known to visitors of the (old) Water-colour Society's Exhibitions; then a stripling and an enthusiastic disciple of Blake's. To him we are already indebted for many a reminiscence; that picture of Blake standing before a canvas of murderer Wainwright's, for one. The acquaintance commenced when Blake was about midway in the task of engraving his Job. 'At my never-to-be forgotten first interview,' says Mr. Palmer, 'the copper of the first plate —"Thus did Job continually"—was lying on the table where he had been working at it. How lovely it looked by the lamplight, strained through the tissue paper!'
Among the young painters attracted at this period towards Blake was Frederick Tatham, to whose father—the architect — Mr. Linnell had introduced his friend. Mr. Richmond, the now distinguished portrait-painter, was another. As a lad of sixteen, he met Blake one day at the elder Tatham's, and was allowed to walk home with him. To the boy, it was 'as if he were walking with the prophet Isaiah;' for he had heard much of Blake, greatly admired all he had heard, and all he had seen of his designs. The prophet talked fully and kindly, freely opening his mind, as was his wont with the young—with men of eighteen or twenty say—even more freely and favourably, perhaps, than with their elders. There was more community of sentiment,—a bond of sympathy. He was not provoked by them to utter extravagances and extreme opinions. On this occasion he talked of his own youth, and of his visions. Just as Mr. Palmer speaks of Blake's tolerant kindness towards young men, Mr. Richmond relates that, in their intercourse, he would himself, as young
