Archive Record

  • Email This Page
  • Send Feedback
Catalog Number KSc032572
Collection Unknown
Object Name Letter
Dates of Creation 1861/02/15
Scope & Content Hempstead Feby 15th 1861
Rev. Dr. Mount
Dear Sir:
I have taken the liberty to address you a few words-the title of this epistle may astound you somewhat to think that you have reached a state that probably you have never dreamed of, or seen in your visions of Spiritualism but when men aspire to have aknowledge of the unseen world of course their faith must be deeper than us poor mortals of of [ ] sphere, & as a matter of no [ ] should be acknowledged something more than Mr Mount the painter genius who excels in Catgut & delineating the power of said [ ] on canvas-ranging next to immortality. Catgut has unquestionable power when in the hands of the Dr. but there was a power that was superior to Catgut when he was painting the window of the church at St. James's which then exhibited audibly, to the Pastor of said church in which be imagined he was in the presence of angels & rapidly approaching Paradise. Alas, he again descended to earth again to be [ ]ed with an article in which he has such great faith, while they [ ] and left him alone in the glory of his single blessedness. Red, [ ] & Yellow are virgin colors & the mingling of them nature will not show us that so pleasing a variety as she does. Now the Dr. in his thirty years of pilgrimage through the land of Paint, has ever yet seen one that could meet his idea of the beautiful and when pressed hard would sometimes turn Red, then Blue, finally Yellow & then disappear on the matrimonial horizon. Ever & anon the spirits would suggest something novel to our friend, the Mount of Mounts & he would be resuscitated to think that his star of venus had not gone down to rise no more, while his muse would chant as follows,
"Hark, hark me love, hark me by
list to my song
Come, Come, Come
The moon beams are dancing on the gay throng
Come, Come, Come
I wait for the fairest O come to my call
Thy picture shall light the trumpet vined hall
While St Jas she is chiming
Come, Come, Come
Thy Easel & Palette will be entranced to the heart
Of the joys and the pleasures in which you take part
While Brushes and Muller will dance on tip toe
To think that their Boss has made a great go
Well now friend Mount you might conceive that I was captivated by the Goddess of Love judging by the foregoing lines, but my Muse dictated & I followed of course, from my experience gentlemen of celibacy have the bump of amativeness as well as the rest of us poor mortals, so say the Phrenologists. My impression is that yours is not yet developed, singular, too, having lived two score and ten, while reading this feel on the back part of your cranium-perhaps it has reversed the order of nature & gone into your moustache & wiped away with the many applications of your pocket handkerchief. When you retire tonight to your room and mercury at zero chew your Cud of reflection on what the Muse has said.
I sent a sketch, of mine which will be presented to you-somewhat on the African character, a subject in which you revel & depict with so much force & animation, I trust I will be acceptable to the lover of the art-my best wishes for your welfare & come to Hempstead next summer & see me. If not taxing your mental powers too much drop me a line or so
Yours very Respectfully
ALFRED WIGGINS'