e less, so the princely serenity which Cromwell could assume as
well as any man, or rather which was natural to him in his princely
moments, involved of necessity whatever is of the like quality in the
self-possession of an ordinary gentleman. You have heard what Cromwell
said, when Lely was about to paint this picture? He desired him to omit
nothing that could complete the likeness, however it might tell against
smoothness and good looks. Not a wart, or a wrinkle was to be left out.
Lely accordingly produced a stronger and bluffer face than is usual with
him; though it is to be doubted, whether the sense of beauty to which he
afterwards made such a sacrifice of his pencil, would have permitted him
to go to the extent of Cromwell's direction, granting even that the
instinct of a courtier had not prevented it. Nor are we to suppose, that
Cromwell himself, however great a man, was displeased to think that his
warts and wrinkles had been found less inimical to pleasingness of aspect,
than might have been looked for. Be this as it may, I was afterwards when
I came to see the picture, highly struck with the resemblance it bore to
him at the period of this interview. If there was any defect on the wrong
side it was, that the eyes were not fine enough; not sufficiently deep and
full of meaning. And yet they are not vulgar eyes, in Lely's picture. The
forehead, and the open flow of hair on either side, as if he was looking
out upon the realm he governed, and the air of it was breathing upon him,
are wonderfully like; and so is the determined yet unaffected look of the
mouth. The nose, which in every face is, perhaps, the seat of refinement
or coarseness, (at least I have never found the symptom fail) is hardly
coarse enough; and in a similar proportion, it is wanting in power.
Cromwell's nose looked almost like a knob of oak. Indeed, throughout his
face there was something of the knobbed and gnarled character of that
monarch of our woods. I will add, that as this picture was painted
immediately after Cromwell's accession to the sovereign power, the
princely aspect of the sitter was never more genuine, perhaps, than at
that moment. But there was one thing which Lely assuredly took upon
himself to qualify; to wit, the redness of the nose. It was too red in
ordinary, though not so much so as his libellers gave out, nor so
distinguished in colour from the rest of his face. When he was moved to
anger, the whole irritability of his natu