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The next apartment is the Entré-room, which is We shall give a more particular description of the nearly as spacious as the preceding. The furniture and rooms in our next. decorations of which are equally splendid. In this are two very large pictures of sea fights--the battle of the first of June, between the English fleet, under Lord
EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY, Howe, and the French fleet, by De Loutherbourg, and
SOMERSET HOUSE. the battle of Trafalgar, painted, as a companion, by
(Continued from p. 79.) W. M. Turner, R. A. by his Majesty's command, expressly to hang in this room. This leads to the throne
The Fifty-sixth. room, which far exceeds the others in splendour; the walls being covered with crimson satin damask, divided
“This is right, Sir-I approve of this," observed a into panels, by pilasters of crimson velvet, gorgeously
critical frequenter of our public sights: “this is as it ornamented with beautiful and tasteful carvings by the
should be, Sir,-one may compare these three attic inimitable Grinlin Gibbons. The throne is lofty, and
apariments to a splendid banquet of three tables the most sumptuous; being composed of crimson velvet, with
Great-room as the upper, the Anti-room, and the School a profusion of gold, embroidery, and orvament. It
of Painting, as the side tables, and the pictures of the is ascended by three steps, richly carpetted. In this
Royal Academicians being hung in each of these, magnificent apartment, in the centre panel, over the
amongst the minor works, like some of the great dons fire-place, is a grand whole length portrait of his pre
| appertaining by right of precedence to the honors of sent Majesty, represented in the coronation robes,
the upper table, seating themselves at the others amidst painted by Sir Thomas Lawrence. On each side is a
the guests generally bidden to the feast. This arrange. large picture,- the battle of Waterloo-and ihe battle
ment is highly creditable to the lords of the banquet.of Vittoria, by G. Jones, R. A. Nothing can exceed
|· He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.'” the gorgeous splendour of this room.
We are always amused with the observations of this Beyond, is his Majesty's closet, a superb apart.
old gentleman-his remarks are usually so apt, and ment, with crimson damask walls, on which are two ||
pertinent. He is one of the old school, and reflects grand subjects frorn Buckingham House, painted by Rubens. St. Martin dividing his cloak, and an eques
| upon passing scenes through his own original spec.
tacles. trian portrait of King Philip of Spain. This room is
Indeed we coincide with these remarks- there is furnished with two most exquisite specimens of Boule,
great consideration on the face of this arrangement. in a commode and library table, by Baily, of Mountstreet. The private rooms for the accommodation of
Doubtless each young painter may feel desirous of
attaining to the honors of the upper table, but they his Majesty, where he slept the night preceding the drawing-room, are in continuation.
may wait their turn, and be content with the eclat
attached to sitting right and left “ below the sall," in On returning to the west end of the anti-chamber
such good good company. is the entrance to the new gallery, which leads to the
We have before noticed a peculiar stratum in the staircase of egress. This is about eighty feet in length.
great mine; here too is a rich vein of ore. Sir William On the walls are whole length portraits of King Henry VIII. by Hans Holbein ; Queen Mary, by Sir
Curtis is sterling metal, and the two female busts, Nos. Antonio Moore ; Queen Elizabeth, by Mytens; King
- and -, might bear the fire of the critical furnace,
aod passing that ordeal, be pronounced pure. The James I., and King Charles I., by Vandyke. That of King James, a posthumous portrait.
sweet expression in the countenance of the lady, by
Mr. Shee, led us unwittingly to associate the painter The most magnificent apartment, however, is the
with the elegant“ Rhymes on Art," and hence to metaBanquetting room, being in length sixty-three feet,
phor. Had we that work by our side, we might quote and in breadth thirty-nine feet. The ceiling thirty feet
some lines in verse, suited to its grace and beauty-but in height, from which hang five gorgeous gilt chandeliers. This apartment, which was the old ball room, has been
as that is not within reach, we will say in simple prose, entirely dismantled' of its gallery, and heavy incum
that it is a captivating picture, and one of the most brances, and refitted on a design which reminds us of
admired female portraits in the exhibition. This is on
the right side of the commanding picture by the Prethe palace-like splendour of the age of Louis le Grand.
sident. On the left is another fine specimen of the The whole walls are divided into panels, and pilas.
English School of Portraiture, from the accomplished ters, composed of borders, rich to the last degree, in
I pencil of Mr. Phillips. Between two such personifica. ornaments entirely original, but in the character of
tions of modesty and beauty, any knight of old might that age. These are richly gilt, and are chastely re.
feel elate. lieved on a colonr approximating to the pearl. It is considered by every one to be the most splerrdid and
" What may be your opinion of Mr. Phillips's picture of
Lord Acheson, that whole length, in the dress of one of his elegant room of that character of any royal palace in Majesty's Pages, that?" pointing to No. 56, enquired a Europe.
great collector of the old masters; rejoining, “I think it is
very elegantly designed, and really very chaste in the en- || " Why, I am not sure of that,” replied the painter. “It semble," addressing himself to a professor.
is loose, and free, and clever, but it is not sufficiently stu6. A very fine whole length, Sir,” replied the painter. died. The scene is better designed than painted. If “ It strikes me that the effect of the head is deficient in
Master Newton, who really has an excellent fancy, who force, somewhat wanting in roundness and that bold relief,
conceives his subject with a very original feeling, would which some of the other portraits display.”
determine to superadd, what I am convinced he possess 29, " Why, Sir, it does not tell here so powerfully as when I
a portion of that talent he has in reserve, he would raise
| himself to a rivalry, with those whom we rate among the first saw it in Mr. Phillips's painting room, certainly: but,
in this style of composition. As it is, however, he is a very doubtless, you, Sir, are well acquainted with the difficulty of
|| improving painter, and certainly a devilish clever fellow." appreciating a picture abstractedly, in a collection like this. || Mr. Phillips aims at no forced effects. He is as little
- By the way, did you notice a lively little composition, contaminated by the prevailing error, as any amongst the · Rummaging a Wardrobe,' painted by T. S. Good.” most distinguished of his contemporaries. He aims at || “I did,” replied the painter. “ It is a smart thought, truth, and seems rather to address his works to the few who || and well applied. Good promises to add something to this can estimate what is legitimate in art, than to obtain popular | fanciful style. There is a great deal of whim and frolic in his eclat, by that meretricious practice, which seduces general || compositions, and this I think is the most complete of any applause. That head, Sir, could you approach near enough || that I have seen. Every figure is well employed, the girl to see it fairly, would excite your entire approbation--it is || attiring herself in her great grandmother's antique finery, natural, pure in colour, well drawn, and finely finished. || tells capitally; she is a very pretty figure too. Now I like Sir, there is no possibility of judging of the merits of a head || these playlul subjects to speak the painter's intention with painted with that unaffected simplicity, mounted so much that simple appeal to the spectator which we behole in this. above the eye.”
There is no grimace, nothing farcical, nothing forced, ex“Granted, Sir," replied the collector, “it is to be regret-|| cepting the lights, in the display ted that there is not space sufficient to allow the hanging of
sofl rather eccentric; but in this rummaging scene, it falls nathese whole length pictures some feet lower. I feel assur
turally, and is introduced with skill. He paints these little ed that it is to this necessity for placing them so much above
subjects too more carefully than some of his neighbours. the usual scope of vision, that we may, in great measure,
Indeed, it is an extremely interesting picture, well studied, owe the pernicious practice of exaggerating the facial effect,
and, as far as it goes, very effective. I should not hesitate for I have not unfrequently observed, on a near inspection
to purchase it, if I were rich. If a print were to be made of works in a painter's study, such violent opposition of
from it, a good line engraving, I would be a subscriber for a light and shadow to throw out the features, that I almost condemned the style as the bombast of painting;
“ What a fine style of portrait, Mr. Alfred Chalon has yet, on recognizing the same pieces, on the surrounding struck out this season! You noticed them I presume-I walls, and occupying these same spaces, I have found that
mean his tinted drawings in water colours." ; they have appeared natural, or at least, compatible with " Tinted drawings ! Sir, they are magnificent paintings in general appearance of the leading works. Certainly there small. Poor Edridge! He used to fill these spaces. How is an elegant simplicity of style about this performance, many years have I stood before his works and admired their that is very agreeable. I should much desire to see the cleverness, for all his manner, and occasional stiffness.” picture in a private apartment. I admire the general ar
" Yes, Sir," observed the amateur, “but he was taking rangement-it is a very accomplished work indeed. What
great strides latterly; he was a most improving artist. think you of the background, Sir?”
His more recent productions were very líke Sir Joshua " Why, Sir, we (a group of artists) have just agreed that
Reynolds in small." the curtain is folded with great felicity; it is broad and
"They had their fascinations I own,” replied the painter, grand, and very Titianesque !" “I think with you, Sir, Mr. Phillips is certainly a sterling
- but they were wrought too much through the medium of artist, a very superior portrait painter, one indeed whose
that great prototype--they were too Sir Joshuaish, and works support the high character of the British school.” smacked more of his manner than of his feeling. I thought * What a figure we make in the humorous department,
he attempted too much. He was, however, an excellent hey!" said a lively amateur, who knows, and is known to
artist in his way. But I liked his own style, better than almost all the professors. “Why, we shall have a score of
his latter manner.” Hogarths, and as many Wilkies, ere long."
“ Well! I agree with you, I bow to your better judgment.” "They have to take some mighty strides in painting be " Now, as for Chalon,” resumed the painter, “there is a fore they reach either of these, though,'' replied the painter | fire and spirit about these portrait compositions, that gives whom he accosted.
us something new in art again. I admire them ten times " True,"admitted the amateur, “I will not insist upon more than his miniature portraits on ivory, there his talent their high merits in the executive, but in the inventive was cramped, whilst in these there is scope for his imaginapart, surely you will grant them some applause. First, I tion. He can here give loose to his feelings, the style adwill mention a subject that I have just left, one that tells mits a display of his powers at composition, and the matethe story well. That sort of malade imaginaire, the rial is obsequious to the will of his commanding hand. I Monsieur de Pourceaugnac. No, no, I mean the Patient should pronounce them the most spirited drawings that in spite of himself, by Newton, Surely that is a clever, || have been seen, perfectly original, and worthy the pencil of lively, I was going to say, admirable piece. Is it not full of Vandyck. He has hit upon his forte, and mark my words ; humour?"
you know-as the Americans would say—that I have a pretty “ Yes, certainly,” replied the painter," it is replete with particular considerable spice of the prophet,-mark my humour; it made me laugh most heartily; it is very spirit. || words, you will see, peradventure we all live hence, from ed, very dramatic; indeed it has considerable merit, and his prolific taste-for this is only the commencement of a seems a great favourite with the public. It is rather outre || new æra with him-a surpassing class of drawingg, that will to be sure, but then it is a French Farce. The costume is make the cognoscenti marvel! quite national. He has hit off the days of Moliere tout “How he splashes the white about these drawings, hey!” cracher.”
Yes, by the Lord !” added the painter, “it is an almost " Do you not think the painting very masterly ?” en- || audacious attempt, but he has proved himself master of the quired the amateur.
weapon-a bold aim, but he has cast it home!”
EXHIBITION OF THE SOCIETY OF BRITISH resque. The combinations of old houses, wharfs, ARTISTS,
shipping, boats, and various craft, well grouped, with SUFFOLK STREET, PALL MALL.
the bustle of the scite, is truly characteristic. The
light and shadow are well arranged, and the colouring (Continued from page 83.)
has that general appearance of nature, which alone can
result from attentive observation, and local imitation. The First.
It approximates, however, to extravagance of colour, a CONVERSING lately with a foreign artist upon the
fault which practice well directed, will soon overcome. subject of topographical painting in England, he ob
Had it been more carefully finished, it had been much served, that the superior picturesqueness of the ancient
more estimable—and this would have demanded but towns on the Continent, had only been made known to
little additional thinking, and we should hope not any their inhabitants, even to the painters, by the instrumen
uninteresting labour. There is great promise upon the tality of the English professors of that department of
face of the few pictures which we have seen by this art, who had travelled thither since the peace. This
artist: we look forward for much from his pencil, and intelligent gentleman further observed, had your pain
rely upon his good taste and obvious talent, for the acters resided amidst this scenery, which they pourtray
complishment of our expectations. with such consummate skill, it is likely they might VIEW OF ST. ALBAN'S APREY, AND VIEW ON THE ROAD TO have remained as unconscious of its pictorial affinity as
ST. ALBAN'S. PAINTED BY P. XASMYTII. ourselves. Ilustrating his position by assuring us, that
Were it the custom to cherish those unchristian preju
dices, which, bounded by this side the Tweed, existed half an eminent foreign artist on his return from the British
a century ago, we know not how we could have endured metropolis, where he resided but a few weeks, produced that influx of genius and talent, which of late bas crossed a portfolio of sketches of “ Peeps in London," which from its opposite bankr, and found its way onward to the he declared struck him as one of the most picturesque
h metropoli.. llappily, we have now no other fecl. cities he had ever beheld. It appears, that its novelty,
ings upon the subject of painting and poetry in the north,
than as they expand the heart with generous gratulations, for he had travelled much, was the cause of his admira
on knowing that the culture of the fine arts is still more tion. That it has few attractions for the native topo widely diffusing the blessings of civilization to each region graphers is evident, from the paucity of pictures that
of our native island. The name of Nasmyth had long been
familiar to our ears, long indeed before our eyes were capawe meet with, descriptive of any features of its vast site
ble of judging, whether his reputation partook of those in our public exhibitions, or our private collections. national feelings, which are so patriotically obnoxious to the
Mr. Stanfield however, may be numbered among decrying of the genius of Scotia. When we saw his picthe few English artists, who have, of late at least, cho
tures, we found that his talents had not been overrated.
There are two of this name, we believe, father and son. sen a subject for the pencil, within the extent of our
Our || The author of these pictures is the younger it seems, and great town. His view of Westminster Abbey, now in the superior artist. In all the works of Mr. Nasmyth we the collection of His Grace the Duke of Bedford, was perceive something like sameness ; indeed, sweetly as he a work which attracted at the last exhibition at the touches the leasage of his trees, and spiritedly as he pencils
the bark, or marks the surrows in the road, or depicts a British Gallery. It displayed considerable talent, and
rock; bright as are his skies, cool and fresh as is the water, wanted but the little more, to make it of much greater and luminous as is the atmosphere of his pictures; yet, worth,
is generally so little proportion of merit displayed in We were attracted in this exbibition, by a truly pic
the composition of his scenes, compared with their other at.
tributes, that we consider his works entitled but to half the turesque peep into the purlieus of the famed City of || ,
praise which he might earn, by attention to this important Antwerp- the birth place of the “ Prince of Pain- || division of a pictorial design. ters," and much pleased with our visit to the spot. We are not ever looking for the epic. We admire the If the modern artists, natives of that once picture |grand of Poussin, and the homely of Hobbima, but the siin
Il ple village scenes of this admired painter, are well studied. loving city, could look without a painter's eye on such
Every division of his pictures is fitting: here a road, there a scene, we have abundant evidence that their illus | a path. His trees are carefully grouped, and every peer trious predecessors had better taste; for every cele and turn of his landscape is compatible with the reality of brated collection affords some choice specimens of
his design. Mr. Nasmyth appears to paint with great faci
lity, and his pictures have much of the character of the old Flemish topography of old; indeed this fascinating Flemish masters in freshness and dexterous execution. We branch of art, originated with the ingenious wights of || find much to admire in all his ingenious labours, although the low countries. That a love for these compositions
countries. That a love for these compositions I his compositions are generally wanting in that sentiment should have revived in our time, at all, inclines us to
and feeling which characterize the landscapes of the superior
artists of the English school. rejoice; but that its revival should be traced to the superior feeling of our artists, makes us proud.
THE FIRST SIGHT OF WOMAN. PAINTED BY C. LANDSEER. Mr. Stanfield, a young artist, we presume-at least a || We read in the Lives of the Fathers, a story of a childe rising painter, has chosen a good theme for this display || that was brought up in the wilderness from his infancy, by of his art-and he has treated it with a general know- || an old Hermite: now come to man's estate, hee saw by ledge of the requisites for such a subject, that is very I asked the old man, what creatures they were? Hee told
chance two comely women wandering in the woods; hee creditable to his talent. The scene is richly pictu-l him fayries. After awhile talking obiter, the hermite demanded of him which was the pleasantest sight he ever saw collection, but has established his reputation by so excelin his life? He readily replied, the two layries he spied in Mlent an example of his recent improvement in landscape the wilderness."
painting. According to another (and perhaps better) version of the story, the bermit is made to reply to the young man, Much as has been observed upon the prevalence of land“ Those creatures are geese.”-_ Geese!” returned the scape compositions in this exhibition, it yet continues to youth, “I should have thought they had been swans at attract. To the observant eye, every master will afford a least!”
charm by the style with which he imitates nature; and to Could a father choose the shape in which he would have those of competent perceptions, whether a collection be all his song receive the gist of any temporal blessing, were he landscape, or all portrait, if composed of works of original an artist, we should say he judged wisely in preferring geni. merit, enough variety will be found to excite interest and us for them, that they might excel in art. "Mr. Landseer crrate delight. surely is eminently favoured in possessing sons who have However strange it might appear to those who seek exhithus early demonstrated so genial a talent for painting. Of|bitions for mere amusement, vet, to those conversant in art Mr. Edwin Land-per, we have spoken as we felt, that he -to the enquiring amateur, the more frequently this, or any was an honor to the English school. The brother, judging other collection of paintings of any school is seen, the from what we had seen before, and from this very creditable greater will be the developement of the variety of which it specimen of his talent for a higher department of art, pro is constituted: for by a recurrence of comparing one work mises also to become an accomplished painter.
with another, the greater will be found the diversity of He has selected a very pretty popular story for this essay cach master's manner of imitating nature. To knowledge of his talent, and has illustrated it with taste and
thus acquired, must be adduced the foundation of the art The figure of the youth is carefully drawn, and well studied of connoisseurship-an art delightful in every step, and to --the expression is felt. We recognize no attempt at man | a certain extent, of easy attainment-without which the ner or style in this composition. It is an unassuming and most interesting attributes of painting, sculpture, archifaithful example of his progress in art, with his views of tecture, poetry, and music, are unfelt and unseen. pature, which he appears to behold with his own eye, and The visits of an indifferent idler and the amateur to with that correct and right feeling, which alone leads to the these repositories of art, may be compared to the listless perfection we seek in the works of the Italian school. tourist, who rambles without any object but that of change
of place, and the enlightened traveller, who visits various regions to improve his knowledge by research. To one, a
second visit to this collection would appear monotonous, EXHIBITION OF THE SOCIETY OF PAINTERS
for the pleasure would last no longer than the eye had reIN WATER COLOURS,
ferred to the catalogue, and the impatient imagination had
hastened over each scene; whilst, to the other, the same PALL-MALL EAST.
scene would offer enough to arrest his curiosity, and lead (Continued from p. 84.)
him to explore the site.
Varley's style is bold, determined, and lucid; Fielding's
chaste and elegant; Prout's vast and powerful; Barrett's BOYS AND SHEEP, SCENE BELOW GRAVESEND, PAINTED BY I learned, rich, and solemn; Cox's splendid and glowing; D. cox.
Cristall's classic, broad, and unaffected; Robson's unartiSIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS has observed that a painter who || ner's fresh and natural; Wild's learned and splendid;
ficial and grand; Stephanoft's delicate and beautiful ; Turknew his art, is less fastidious in choosing his subject, than || Nash's grand and gorgeous; Mackensie's scientific and in his manner of treating it. This great painter illustrated
true. We know that this estimate may excite a supercilithe axiom by his practice. We know from his own asser
ous smile: but, if it appear too highly coloured, we recomtion, that he never contemned his prototype; on the con
mend a reference to the works themselves, by these the trary, he considered nature, unless in a state of deformity,
able and original professors of this new art-and that it always sufficient for his model, and imitated what he saw | be borne in mind, that the material with which these works with all the fervour of his art. Hence he stamped a ster- ll are wought, have attained to this unprecedented scale of ling value upon even the least of his works. His illustri
force under their ingenious hands. ous friend Johnson, on being asked, when in a gracious bumour, how it happened that he excelled all others in his colloquial powers, answered, “if he possessed such superiority, it possibly might arise from his habit, from an early
REVIEWS period, of never speaking upon any subject but in the best and most appropriate language."
Memoir of the Life and Character of the Right Hon. This landscape scene, is such as every county in our verdant isle abundantly supplies. It has no grand-no ro
Eelmund Burke; with specimens of his Poetry and Let
ters, and an estimate of his Genius and Talents, commantic features, it is a simple pastoral subject, the like of
pared cith those of his great Contemporaries. By JAMES *which, indeed, may be found in the vicinity of every village and every farm. Yet it is treated with that sentiment,
Prior, Esq. London: Bullwin, Cradock, and Joy.
8vo. 1824. which embraces all the pictorial charms that delight thé ! admirers of nature, clothed in her rural garb. It is rich in | SOMETHING of this sort has long been wanted. The herbage, screened with wood, and diversitied by water, and | biographies of Burke hitherto published, are poor interests the true
Il affairs : one of them the scum of party venom; the epic compositions. It comprises the genuine attributes of picturesque of landscape, and in colour emulates the splen
other a worthless compilation of newspaper paragraphs, dour of Rembrandt.
parliamentary reports, and town-talk. Mr. Prior has In this picture, then, we have an illustration of what the I had access to better authorities, and though not overgreatest of painters inculcated in his precepts. Mr. Cox has taken for his theme, what one of inferior talent would
stocked with wisdom, has used them with discretion have thought unworthy of notice, and by his consummate ll and judgment. Knowing many of the family and skill, has rendered it not only one of the finest works in the | friendly connexions of Burke, he has been enabled to
give us more details of the earlier portion of that great went as private Secretary to Ireland, and received a penman's life. This indeed, with some domestic anecdotes | sion of £300 a year. This he enjoyed for no more than and a few heretofore unpublished letters, forms the chief sighteen months, when from the unreasonable and deexcellence of the present memoirs.
grading claims made upon his gratitude, it was thrown Whatever our inclination may be, still we do not up with indignation. Burke thus speaks of the facts mean to enter into any examination of the political in a letter to the celebrated Mr. Flood :character of Burke. It has been much misunderstood
“ It is very true that there is an eternal rupture between and strangely misrepresented, but to his biographer and
me and Hamilton, which was on my side neither sought not to us, belongs the task of explanation and defence. nor proyoked; for though his conduct in public affairs bas Burke was certainly a very able, if not a very great man. been for a long time directly contrary to my opinions, very No person of his time possessed a larger capacity for
reproachsul to himself, and extremely disgustful to me;
and though in private he has not justly fulfilled one of his acquiring knowledge, a higher faculty of attention and
engagements to me, yet I was so uneasy and awkward at industry, a more acute perception of the relations of coming to a breach, where I had once a close and intimate things, and a more forcible and eloquent mode of com friendship, that I continued with a kind of desperate fidelimunicating his knowledge and retlections to the world.
ty to adhere to his cause and person; and when I found Some faults of personal character dimmed the lustre and
him greatly disposed to quarrel with me, I used such sub
missive measures as I never before could prevail upon impeded the beneficial employment of those great en- || myself to use to any man. dowments, but no one can reasonably question the * The occasion of our difference was not any act whatbenevolent intentions of their possessor. As to any
soever on my part; it was entirely on his, by a voluntary
but most insolent and intolerable demand, amounting to no charges against the integrity of Burke, they are utterly
| less than a claim of servitude during the whole co contemplible. Such accusations are engendered in the my life, without leaving me at any time a power either of pestilential hot bed of party, and prove nothing but getting forward with honour, or of retiring with tranquilthe malignity of their supporters. The clouds which
lity. This was really and truly the substance of his de.
mand upon me, to which I need not tell you I refused with hung over the latter years of Burke's life are gradually
some degree of indignation to submit. On this we ceased melting away, and his character shines forth in the to see each other, or to correspond a good while before you fulness, beauty and purity of its moral proportions. left London. He then commenced, through the interven“ For what I have been,” said he, “I put myself upon
tion of others, a negociation with me, in which he showed
as much of meannees in his proposals as he had done of my country." The decision of that country has been,
arrogance in his demands; but as all these proposals were and will be honourable to both.
vitiated by the taint of that servitude with which they The chronological parts of this biography are indu were all mixed, his negociation came to nothing. bitably correct, and there seems to be no reason for
“He grounded these monstrous claims (such as never
were before heard of in this country) on that pension which questioning any of the earlier details. It would seem
he had procured for me through Colonel Cunninghame, that the family of Burke was not so obscure and indi. the late Primate, and Lord Halifax, for, through all that gent as has generally been supposed, for he received a Il series of persons, this paltry business was contrived to pass. liberal education was allower 'durin' his first residence || Now, though I was sensible that I owed this pension to the
good will of the Primate in a great degree, and though, if in London, £200 a year, and acquired from his family
ll it had come from Hamilton's pocket, instead of being deat various times, a sum little short of £20,000. In his rived from the Irish treasury, I had earned it by a long and boyhood he excited the attention, and received the laborious attendance, and might, in any other than that praise of his instructors, evincing great aptitude for
unfortunate connexion, have got a much better thing; yet
to get rid of him completely, and not to carry a memorial learning, and a ripeness of judgment beyond his years.
of such a person about me, I offered to transmit it to his At the university his course was graced with college attorney in trust for him. This offer he thought proper to honors, and Mr. Prior has cited some of his poetry accept. I beg pardon, my dear Flood, for troubling you so written at that period. It is decentish, and nothing
long on a subject which ought not to employ a moment of
your thoughts, and never shall again employ a moment more. This, however, is the first time that we had
of mine." heard of Burke's poetical attempts. His visit to Lon
The incidents of Burke's life were from this time don, and first attempts in literature are related by Mr.
before the public, and we are not called upon to abridge | Prior in a simple and intelligible manner, and throw
them from the present volume. We shall give some a strong light upon the variety of his resources the
| extracts from his letters to Barry the painter. They inflexibility of his diligence, and the streugth of his hopes. Of his earlier works we have no room to
are excellent:speak, nor is it necessary. They are before the public, " With regard to your studies, you know, my dear Barry, and Mr. P. tells us no anecdotes about them which are
my opinion. I do not choose to lecture you to death; but
to say all I can in a few words, it will not do for a man quaworth extracting.
lified like you to be a connoisseur and a sketcher.-You The rising fame of Burke introduced him to all who must be an artist; and this you cannot be but by drawing were distinguished for wit and literature in the metropolis, with the last degree of noble correctness. Until you can and his own great acquirements placed him on a level
draw beauty with the last degree of truth and precision,
you will not consider yourself possessed of that faculty. with the most eminent. Through his own merit and
This power will not hinder you from passing to the great the recommendation of Single-Speech Hamilton, he || style when you please; if your character should, as I ima