productions, the time and the people must be expressed. The soldiers of George II. might as well have been represented fighting those of Louis XV. on elephants' backs, as in the nakedness of the Lapitha. Barry, who had shortly before been elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, was so much offended with the way in which this picture was hung or talked about by his brethren, that he never sent another work to their exhibition.

Poverty was now a sore enemy to his peacethe munificence of Burke maintained him at Rome, but now the means of life were to be raised by his pencil, and on nothing that his pencil produced had patronage as yet smiled. His parents, with whom his correspondence seems to have been but casual, were not in a condition to render him assistance. Dr. Sleigh, his early friend, was dead. The ungainliness of his manners, the caustic sharpness of his remarks, and his sudden resentments repelled those who were willing to serve him. He listened to the good counsel of Burke with growing impatience-nor was he long in making even that friend of friends feel the fierceness of his nature.

He had always professed a strong aversion to portrait painting: some ascribed this to envy of Reynolds, others to his own want of skill in that line of art; and Dr. Brocklesby, wishing to break the spell, requested Burke to sit to Barry. Barry agreed; but he had his own peculiar notions of the etiquette to be observed in a painter's studio, and moreover was in a mood approaching to ill humour with Burke for his intimacy with Reynolds. Burke called repeatedly to commence the sittings for his portrait, but pre-engagements were

pleaded, and a day's notice was demanded-more as a matter of form, it would seem, than of necessity. His patience failed him, and he wrote the following letter:-" It has been very unfortunate for me that my time is so regularly occupied that I can never with certainty tell beforehand when I shall be disengaged. I waited on you exactly at half an hour after eleven, and had the pleasure of finding you at home; but, as usual, so employed as not to permit you to undertake this disagreeable business. I have troubled you with this letter, as I think it necessary to make an excuse for so frequent and importunate intrusion. Much as it might flatter my vanity to be painted by so eminent an artist, I assure you that, knowing I had no title to that honour, it was only in compliance with the desire often repeated of our common friend, that I have been so troublesome.

It is to the honour of Barry that this letter touched him deeply. He disliked, indeed, its air of distant courtesy and its ironical tone, but Burke had been kind when friends were few and much needed, and he was unwilling to lose him, as well he might. "What am I to understand from all

this," was his answer, surely there must be something in your mind, what is it? I should be glad to know in its full extent, and permit me to say that I ought not to be left in ignorance of any matter that is likely to make a breach between us. As to Dr. Brocklesby's picture, it is a miserable subject to be made the ground of a quarrel with

me.

I will paint it, as I always was earnestly inclined to do, when I can get a sitting upon the terms that are granted to all other painters. I

only begged the notice of a day beforehand, and you well know that much more is required by others, and from the very nature of the thing it must be evident that business cannot be carried on without it.

The reader may be curious to learn how such controversies are carried on between a touchy artist and a fastidious sitter. Burke again wrote to assure Barry that he had no wish to offend him, nor was it from any vanity that he desired to be painted, but merely to oblige Dr. Brocklesby. He had sat for his portrait five times-twice in little, and three times in large, and had always gone to the easel without giving previous notice. "A picture of me," he observed, "is now painting for Mr. Thrale, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and in this manner, and in this only. I will not presume to say that the condescension of some men forms a rule for others. I know that extraordinary civility cannot be claimed as a matter of strict justice. In that view, possibly, you may be right. It is not for me to dispute with you. I have ever looked up with reverence to merit of all kinds, and have learned to yield submission even to the caprices of men of parts. I shall certainly obey your commands, and send you regular notice whenever I am able.'

This idle and uncalled-for debate terminated creditably for both-in reconciliation and renewal of friendship. Barry was ashamed of his obstinacy, and Burke relented towards one whom the world was not using according to his merits. The portrait, which caused the "angry parlé," was finished soon afterwards, and was considered a

A

good likeness, and a skilful work. In this lucrative line of art, he might, no doubt, have obtained distinction, if he could have surmounted his reluctance to commence limner of the population at large. But the poetic feeling of Barry refused all sympathy with sordid looks and vulgar costume, and he was content to starve in the service of that Muse, who,

"With rapt soul sitting in her eyes,"

desired him to be daring, and to think only of lofty themes.

His next cabinet pictures-Mercury inventing the Lyre, and Narcissus admiring himself in the Water-were much admired among the imaginative. The latter owed its existence to a conversation with his illustrious friend, during the sittings of his portrait. “On what works of fancy are you employed now?" said Burke. "On this little slight thing," said Barry, holding up the picture, "it is young Mercury inventing the Lyre. The god, you know, found a tortoise shell at break of day on the sea-shore, and fashioned it into a fine instrument of music." "I know the story," replied Burke,"such were the fruits of early rising-he is an industrious deity, and an example to man. I will give you a companion to it. Narcissus wasting time looking at himself in the fountainan image of idleness and vanity." The Narcissus was painted, thrown aside, and lost-the Mercury is a sweet and classic production-perhaps one of the happiest of the painter's works. The god stands on the sea-shore, with the shell of a tortoise in his hand, listening to the sound which

one of its extended fibres has emitted to the touch of his finger. The future instrument dawns upon his mind-and Cupid, inspired with the same thought, presents him with an additional string, which he has plucked from his bow.

The thoughts of Barry dwelt ever on magnificent undertakings, and he imagined that grandeur and sublimity resided only in scenes of vast extent. He believed too that the Reformed as well as the Romish Church required the aid of art to illustrate its tenets, and animate its devotees-a dream in which the painters of the British school have persisted for a century. He heard, therefore, with undissembled joy, of the proposal to embellish the cathedral of Saint Paul, with paintings of a scriptural nature, corresponding in dimensions with its dome and its panels, and he hastened to offer his services, with the hope of seeing the splendour of the Sistine rivalled in London. He thus writes concerning it to the Duke of Richmond. "The Dean and Chapter have agreed to leave the ornamenting of St. Paul's to the Academy, and it now rests with us to give permission to such painters as we shall think qualified to execute historical pictures of a certain size, I believe from fifteen to twenty feet high. We also intend to set up a monument there-Pope is mentioned-the sculptor is to be paid by subscription, and a benefit from the playhouse. I proposed this matter to the academy about a year since, a little after my being admitted an associate, and I had long set my heart upon it, as the only means for establishing a solid manly taste for real art, in place of our contemptible passion for the daubing of inconse

VOL. II.

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