mannered in the extreme, his works obtained reputation;
for the best drawings of the period were feeble both in color and
execution, with commonplace light and shadow, a dark foreground being a
_rule absolute_, as may be seen in several of Turner's first
productions. But Turner was destined to annihilate such rules, breaking
through and scattering them with an expansive force commensurate with
the rigidity of former restraint. It happened "fortunately," as it is
said,--naturally and deservedly, as it _should_ be said,--that Prout was
at this period removed from the narrow sphere of his first efforts to
one in which he could share in, and take advantage of, every progressive
movement.

142. The most respectable of the Plymouth amateurs was the Rev. Dr.
Bidlake, who was ever kind in his encouragement of the young painter,
and with whom many delightful excursions were made. At his house, Mr.
Britton, the antiquarian, happening to see some of the cottages
sketches, and being pleased with them, proposed that Prout should
accompany him into Cornwall, in order to aid him in collecting materials
for his "Beauties of England and Wales." This was the painter's first
recognized artistical employment, as well as the occasion of a
friendship ever gratefully and fondly remembered. On Mr. Britton's
return to London, after sending to him a portfolio of drawings, which
were almost the first to create a sensation with lovers of Art, Mr.
Prout received so many offers of encouragement, if he would consent to
reside in London, as to induce him to take this important step--the
first towards being established as an artist.

143. The immediate effect of this change of position was what might
easily have been foretold, upon a mind naturally sensitive, diffident,
and enthusiastic. It was a heavy discouragement. The youth felt that he
had much to eradicate and more to learn, and hardly knew at first how to
avail himself of the advantages presented by the study of the works of
Turner, Girtin, Cousins, and others. But he had resolution and ambition
as well as modesty; he knew that

"The noblest honors of the mind
On rigid terms descend."

He had every inducement to begin the race, in the clearer guidance and
nobler ends which the very works that had disheartened him afforded and
pointed out; and the first firm and certain step was made. His range of
subject was as yet undetermined, and was likely at one time to have been
very different f