my native city, has been much heightened by the

The Right Hon. Francis Featherstone. Mr. Burke was
presented with the freedom of the city of Dublin, by special
grace, on the 16th of January, 1767 ; and (as it is recorded)
" in consideration of his distinguished abilities, so frequently
exerted for the advantage of this kingdom," (Ireland,) "in
parliament."



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 115

polite and obliging manner in which your lordship
has been pleased to convey it to me. I have no
small satisfaction in finding that there is any thing
in my character or conduct capable of recom-
mending me to the attention of so worthy a man,
and so excellent a magistrate as your lordship.
The city of Dublin, in rating my endeavours, upon
the partial representations of my friends, has set
them much above any thing they could deserve ;
but they cannot overrate, I am sure, my inten-
tions for the welfare of Ireland ; for the total of
which, if I were not very solicitous, I should ill
discharge my duty as a member of this parlia-
ment.

I have much to regret, that my short stay in
Dublin did not permit me to pay my respects to
your lordship. Your permission, and a more
favourable opportunity, will, I hope, indemnify me
for that loss. I shall be extremely happy in
knowing more perfectly a gentleman who has en-
gaged my esteem and gratitude, by his general
character, and by the private obligations he has
done me the honour to confer upon me. I am,
with the truest sentiments of esteem and regard,

My lord,

Your lordship's most obedient,' and most
humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.



i 2



116 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

JAMES BARRY, ESQ., TO MESSRS. BURKE.

Rome, May 23, 1767.

DEAR SIRS,

Since I wrote last, I received a letter from both
of you, and have, amongst other things, no small
pleasure to find what you advise with respect to
study, so perfectly agreeable to the process of the
ancients. Those who executed the Laocoon and
the Torso of the Belvedere, must have attended,
very minutely indeed, to that close anatomical
investigation you recommend to me. The deep
knowledge of the ancients in anatomy, is, I think,
as observable in the Apollo, Antinous, and the
delicate characters, as it is in such whose flesh is
of a more rigid and membranous texture ; and the
disappearing of the muscles, as the figure ap-
proaches to the delicate, is the consequence of as
certain principles and observations, as their intro-
duction would be in a figure of a different cha-
racter. Many people have pointed out the ab-
surdity of those who indiscriminately notch and
score out all kind of characters into a mere myo-
logical map ; falsely taking myology, which should
be but a part in the painter's study of anatomy,
for the whole of it. A myological figure is a
character in nature which ought to be known and
studied to the bottom. The Laocoon and fighting



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 117

Gladiator are of this character ; even independent
of the muscular exertion and expression : but the
Apollo, and that walk of character, is necessary to
be known also; where, of the very few muscles
that remain, nothing is visible except the origins
and insertions, just hinted ; whilst the bellies of
the muscles united with the fat, &c., take one
large, round, and flowing form.

The knowledge, freedom, and greatness of style
in drawing is, I think, the only part of the charac-
ter of Michael Angelo which has been well under-
stood. It has been, and is every day, observed,
that, notwithstanding the number of figures in his
"Last Judgment," there is but one character of body
placed in a vast diversity of attitudes, the model
of which is said to have been his porter. To speak
my private opinion, 'tis not so literally the case as
'tis imagined ; though I believe Michael Angelo
might have intended it, in conformity to a prevail-
ing opinion, that at the resurrection all bodies will
be of the same age and character. There are several
plump and youthful figures in the ceiling of the
same chapel ; and his ' Bacchus,' his ' Dead Christ,'
and other things, ought to make it very clear how
successfully he could avoid a monotony of cha-
racter, when it was his intention to avoid it.

I don't think the expressions of countenance,
either in him or in Raffaelle, indicate in a very clear
and particular manner, the intentions and particular



118 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

state of mind of the person, to whom this counte-
nance is given. They would, generally speaking,
do as well for other figures, of intentions very
different. This has appeared to me on seeing the
Heliodorus, and the Transfiguration ; and perhaps
in the head of the father of the " Possessed Boy."
In the Transfiguration, and in other heads, Dome-
nichino, or Le Brun, would have made it an
expression more peculiar to the situation of a
person ; more corresponding with the words,
which may be naturally supposed to come from the
figure on this occasion. You will now certainly
stop me and observe, that the cartoons in England
flatly contradict what I say. I confess it ; and
will also confess that, I think, besides these car-
toons being almost the first sober examples of the
way of treating an interesting history, they are,
(even in the prints, which are only what I have
seen,) without contradiction, beyond every thing
here, in a just, proper, and interesting combina-
tion of expressions, all centering upon some one
simple, obvious particular. I have not the least
scruple about pronouncing the cartoons the best
and most judicious of his works: though the
elegance which Raffaelle possesses, above all the
moderns, does not come into these designs, as the
expressions are strong and passionate, and the
characters are mostly of that nature, where it was
judicious in him to have omitted it. '



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 119

I was, some time ago, at a conversation here,
where were some artists, and English and other
gentlemen. Amongst other talk, Mengs' copy
after Raffaelle (which is at Northumberland House)
came on the tapis, and it was observed by one
present (who, from the nature of his business and
situation, is courted exceedingly by such artists as
desire to make either money or friends here, as
he and one or two more of the same interest and
opinion are the only channels through which the
acquaintance of English gentlemen come,) it was
observed by him, as I said, that Mengs' copy was
not well relished, at first, by the people at home ;
which was not to be wondered at, as it required
some time to form the taste of a nation ; and that
he was sorry that Mengs was not in England, to
teach, &c. I begged him to excuse me, if I took
the liberty to observe that it looked a little oddly,
to expect the introduction of good taste from a
copy after Raffaelle, by Mengs ; if the cartoons, the
best work of Raffaelle, which were in England ever
since the time of Charles I., were not able to
effect it. As he is a man of great civility, I never
would have thought of observing this, or any thing
else in contradiction to what he said, if I had not
seen clearly into the drift and tendency of his
frequent hints of the incapacity of the people at
home, and that a nod from him would set his
dependents to tear up, and trample upon, every



120 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

thing we held sacred. Reynolds could not draw,
his colouring was white was blue was red was
every thing that could damn him ; he stole what
he had, and he mangled what he stole. Barrett
was nothing, could be nothing, the mushroom of
a day, whose pictures, whenever people came to
have any taste, would be hung up at Rag Fair. In
short, Gainsborough's landscapes were nosegays,
and West, who according to their letters was so
much the fashion, afforded a convincing proof, that
drawing was not sought after, and that a true idea
of art was wanting, as nothing would go down but
magics and mysteries.

You may judge how agreeable to me was this
treatment of Reynolds, Barrett, Gainsborough,
Stewart, the Exhibition, and all the artists. In
the beginning I took it but for the effects of envy,
jealousy, and what not, which sometimes infect
the minds of artists, and thought it ought not to
break any sociable ties between us ; but I had no
sooner attempted to excuse our people at home
from the aspersions thrown upon them, and from
the prepossessions which our travellers here were
likely to get against them, but I was immediately
pointed out as a person who, not coinciding with
the designs of the dealers, might be dangerous in
the company of English cavaliers ; where it was
necessary, every now and then, to run out into the
praises of an indifferent antique head, with a



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 121

modern body, and legs cobbled to it, or of an old
picture, which they christen in the name of this
or that master, and which has seldom other merit
than that, as nothing is visible in it, so nothing
can be objected to. One remark I'll make, and
it is grounded upon an infinite number of pictures
which I have seen in the course of my rambles ;
'tis, that time spoils pictures as well as other
things, and that a century or two makes great
confusion amongst the colours mixed on a wall or
canvass; some decay sooner, others later; some grow
dark, others light, and some change to one colour,
some to another ; and all taking different routes
in their changes, the harmonious ties and relations
between them are nearly lost, except to a man
much practised in the mechanical using of colours,
who, perhaps, may be able to guess from the way
the colouring appears in now, how it might have
appeared formerly. Learned invention, design
where taste and correctness reign, are things, you
know, not liable to change. This accounts why
Raffaelle is gaining ground in the world, though
Titian may be losing it ; and a philosopher, who
is deeply conversant in the elegant arts, may be,
and is certainly, the best judge of the antique and
Raffaelle, though he is very liable to be deceived in
the colouring of a picture, which is changed from
its original perfection, and was never perhaps
remarkable for any thing but the colouring.



CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

Here, then, is a great opportunity for cozening
and imposition, as perfection is not the criterion ;
and things may not be very unlike in their decays,
that were exceedingly so one hundred and fifty
years ago, when some persons of as little merit as
character, made copies and imitations of Titian and
other good colourists.

It requires no proof that there are great num-
bers of ancient statues, and basso-relievos, little
worthy of notice for any skill in the workman-
ship and designing. They have been only pre-
served because of some custom that they may
serve to explain, some manner of dress, or some
opinion of the ancients which they may elucidate.
This may be, when they are entire, or great part
so; but there are legs, and thighs, and feet, and
heads, brought out of old houses, gardens, and
other places, where they have mostly lain, un-
heeded, ever since the fifteenth century, where
they were thrown away as soon as they were found,
being wanting in every thing that could entitle
them to a place in a repository. As the English
have much money to lay out in virtu, and have,
perhaps, greater passion for the ancients, than
they have (generally speaking) judgment to dis-
tinguish amongst them, those into whose hands
they fall here, and to whom their commissions
are sent, take care to provide heads, with bodies
and legs, and vice versa; fragments of gods and



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 123

senators, are jumbled into the same figure of
furies and graces, till it comes out a monster,
like that which rose from the hide the three
deities pissed into. There are instances, to be
sure, of some one or two good things going over ;
but the multitude of those that are exceeding bad,
(much below the work of any tolerable French or
other modern artist,) make us the amazement and
ridicule of all indifferent people. Tis pity to see
our gentlemen, who come out of England with the
best intentions, and with a national spirit, so duped,
and made even instruments of dissension 'twixt
the artists here. The antiquary and dealer are
each provided with his set of puffers; and, in
return, whatever gentleman falls into his hands, is
taught to believe that, next to the old pictures and
statues which they deal in, these are the only
people for modern work, either here or at home ;
and a job of some trifling matter is suffered to fall
now and then in their way. The rest, if they are
heard of, 'tis to their disadvantage; but care is
taken, that they shall be never seen.

Every one knows the necessity there is of a long
succession of practice amongst anypeople desirous of
meriting a character in the arts ; and 'tis as visible
that, if, in the time of Pericles, all places in Greece
had been crowded with the works of other nations,
it would be a secret to the world, whether or not
the Greeks had any genius for the arts. This, I



T24 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

take it, was the true reason why the Romans never
succeeded ; and why, perhaps, we may come short
of the lengths we otherwise probably would go.
There is one thing may hold up an appearance of
art iii England for fifty or sixty years longer ; if
the legislature was to consider that the vast num-
ber of pictures, &c., we have of the Italians, French,
and Flemings, prove very sufficiently what they
could do in art. It may be now time, before every
crevice is filled, that the trials of our own people
should be countenanced, which cannot be the case
if importation of art goes on much farther.

I have wearied you and myself; but you will
excuse it, as these things seemed to me to affect
the very vitals of art. I would further add, that
though, for the most part, intrigue and mercenary
ways may be prevalent here, as the truth is never
without a witness, there are a few who follow art
for its own sake. These are as easily distinguished
by their abilities as the others may be by the want
of them. I am almost afraid even to send what I
have wrote, as I always dread the resentment of
base-spirited people, incapable, as I know, of an open,
generous revenge. There are two sorts of people
they are desirous of gaining over : such who are
likely to be known to, or recommended to, the
gentlemen who come hither; and others, whose
understanding and conversation may be usefully
employed to their purposes ; and from the compli-



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 125

ments paid me in the beginning, it should appear
they judged me in some measure proper for them.
A very little time showed the contrary ; for, on
speaking civilly on the works of Reynolds, Barrett,
Hamilton, and Nevi here, 'twas whispered that I
spoke too much for a young man, and resolved,
from that time, that I should have for the future
but few opportunities of speaking in the company
of English cavaliers, to whom it was necessary to
convey opinions of another tendency. As we know
each other, we are very quiet, and as sociable as I
can be when we meet together, which is the course
I shall take whilst I stay here. You will, I be-
lieve, think it prudent to keep this letter to your-
self; as, should it be known that I laid such
matters open, these people would be soon advised
of it, and perhaps assassination may be the con-
sequence.

I have just this instant received a letter from
you, and am happy to find that there are no dan-
gerous circumstances attending that unlucky acci-
dent 7 . I hope the leg is well by this time, and has
lost nothing of its form, which was a good one.
Thank God for it no one is better stocked with
good-humour, spirits, and good company to support
his confinement, than our friend Mr. Richard : of
all things, I would not wish him to stand upon his

7 Mr. Burke's brother Richard had lately broken his leg.



126 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

leg too soon ; as the but 'tis ridiculous in me to
advise about it; and though Dr. Nugent will
laugh, and you will all laugh, you will all forgive
me too.

'T would be idle to say I rejoice at the strength
of opposition, or at Mr. William's success, since
whatever engages any of the family, my heart is
surely engaged in it too.

I am sorry for the death of Mr. Sisson. 'Twas
my intention, on my return home, to cultivate his
friendship, as well as the friendship of all people
that were agreeable to you. You will, I hope, be
so kind as to continue your advice ; at least, as
often as you find leisure for it, and as it may be
agreeable to you. You won't find it easy to make
me believe that there is in it, as you say, more
freedom and copiousness than judgment. You
ought surely to be free with a man of your own
making, and who has found in you brother, father,
friend every thing; and you cannot be too copious,
since, before I had the happiness of knowing or
seeing you, the principles of a certain work ap-
peared to me (like what is related of the discourses
of the Athenian philosopher with the artists of his
time) to lead to, and point out, what must give
the last hand to art.

As I mentioned in my former letter, I have
been, since I came here, employed in seeing the
different things, and studying the antique and



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 127

nature. As it is now necessary to keep much at
home, the hot weather being come in, I have
begun a picture which I intend for the exhibition.
The subject is " Eve tempting Adam." It is also
painted in the Lodge of Raffaelle ; but does not
please me, as I think it designed in a manner that
neither explains the story nor interests the spec-
tator. Mr. Reynolds can show you a print of it.
I know you would think my time better spent in
copying and studying the antique, Michael Angelo,
and Raffaelle. I think so too ; but the doing of
some one thing of this kind appeared necessary,
especially at this time; and there will be some
useful study in two figures, which ought to be of
absolute beauty, as I conceive it. By the time the
heats are over, it will be near done, and I shall get
out to copy.

On my arrival, I was obliged to draw about five
pounds, to make up the hire of the chaise ; and
the buying a bed and other necessaries, will make
the expense of the year about ten or twelve pounds
more than the credit of forty pounds which I had.
I apprehended this some time ago, and asked the
clerk whether, if I wanted any more, he would
give it me, which he agreed to. I went to him
the day before yesterday to get ten pounds, at
which he boggled, and said the credit was out, and
that a fresh letter was necessary; but that, to
oblige me, and so forth, he would let me have it.



CORRESPONDENCE OF THE



I was told that nothing was done without a fee
here, which I well knew before, and that to avoid
his embarrassing and giving one trouble, 'twas
necessary to give him half a guinea a year. There
is nothing to be seen here, without giving about
eighteen pence of our money ; and as there are few
who care to go to see, except they go with cava-
liers, when it costs them nothing, so it has been a
little expensive to me. There is no working at
the Capella Sistina, the Vatican, the Capitol, or
any palace, without giving at least five paols,
which is half a crown, weekly. The ten pounds,
which make fifty I have received here, will bring
up this year very well ; and I shall be very well
able to do with forty pounds a year after, for the
three years I intend staying here.

Talking of money and expenses, which I am
sorry are so considerable, has, I confess, soured me
not a little ; so that I cannot write any more if I
would, and shall close with presenting my best
respects to all the family, to Mr. Macleane, to Mr.
Reynolds, Mr. Barrett, and all friends ; and
I remain, dear Sirs,

Your obliged and humble servant,

JAMES BARRY.

Hamilton has near finished a picture of the
death of Lucrece. 'Tis in every respect his most
capital work. When he is once known, he ap-
pears (at least, he did to me) as amiable in his



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 129

manners, as he is, unquestionably, very consider-
able for his talents in history. There is another
in the history way here, Nevi, whose character I
shall give you more at large hereafter; just telling
you, by the way, that 'twill not be to his disadvan-
tage either as a man or an artist.



SIR WILLIAM MEREDITH 8 TO EDMUND BURKE, ESQ.

Henbury, June 26, 1767.

MY DEAR BURKE,

At my return from Liverpool I found your letter,
for which I thank you most sincerely.

You are a caricature of St. Thomas, not to be-
lieve, till you saw, what I could do in an election.
Sir George Warren was not quite so fortunate at
Lancaster, though he took great pains and made
great feasts; and, like Galba, sacrificing after
he had lost the empire, " fatigabat Deos alieni
imperii."

Since I came home, I have been reading Sir Jas.
Stuart's book 9 . You know the history of the man ?

8 Member for Liverpool, and at this time a lord of the
admiralty, an office to which he was first appointed under
Lord Rockingham's administration in 1765, and which he
continued to hold under the succeeding and other administra-
tions. In 1774, he was appointed comptroller of the house-
hold, and sworn of the privy-council.

9 Inquiry into the Principles of Political (Economy.
VOL. I. K



130 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

He was in the rebellion, and brought home by
Lord Bute. Colman's play, " The English Mer-
chant" was written to grace his pardon. Indeed,
I take him to be as worthy as Mr. Hume himself,
of being admitted a disciple of the Bute academy;
and dare say he will answer his kind patron's
views in recalling him, by endeavouring to restore
the principles and cause, though not the family,
for the sake of which he was attainted. For, if I
understand him right, his point is to reconcile us
to the use of power such as no law can give, by
attempting to prove, in various instances of eco-
nomy, dissipation, luxury, increase and decrease of
trade, dearness of provisions, &c. &c., how a nation
may fall to ruin carelessly and irretrievably ; and
what infinite distress, of public and private nature,
must continually happen unless the statesman in-
terposes with his authority ; which he describes as
an authority that no fixed rules can establish, but
must be enforced discretionally, as exigencies and
occasions happen.

If you, or your brother, or your cousin, will but
have the goodness to write me a line, on general-
post days, how you all go on, it will be a mark of
real benevolence to

Your faithful servant and friend,

W. MEREDITH.



RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 131



THE DUKE OF RICHMOND ! TO EDMUND BURKE,
ESQ.

Goodwood, July 5, 1767-

MY DEAR SIR,

As all real business must now be at an end, per-
mit me to renew my solicitations to you, that you
would throw away some of your time in favouring
me with your company here. I believe I express
myself ill (as I generally do) when I say throw
away your time; for a man of your constant ob-
servation and attention to all sorts of things, can
never be said to throw away his time. You must
find in a country that is unknown to you, like
this, something new and entertaining ; and if you
do but observe my follies, they may serve to make
you laugh ; or perhaps to make you admire me,
for being able to divert myself with such trifles as
I do. But I must say more, that I think you will
feel great pleasure in obliging one who has so
sincere a regard for you as I have. I shall, there-
fore, depend upon your coming. Let me hear
from you a day or two before, that I may be sure

1 Charles, third Duke of Richmond. He was secretary of
state during the latter part of Lord Rockingham's administra-
tion, and went out of office with that nobleman, in July, 1766.
His grace honoured Mr. Burke with his confidence and
friendship for many years.

K 2



132 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE

to be at home, though I do not see any likelihood
of my leaving this place in the course of this
month. Pray don't be scanty in your visit when
you do come, and bring with you the notes I lent
you. I hope Lord Rockingham is better than
when I saw him last. Adieu, my dear sir.
I am ever, most sincerely,
Your most obedient, humble servant,
RICHMOND, &c.



EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
ROCKINGHAM.

Parson's Green, August 1, 1767.

MY DEAR LORD,

I hope you have by this time got over a little
of your Yorkshire bustle, after escaping so much
to your credit from the bustle of Westminster 2 .

2 Mr. Burke here alludes to overtures for a union of parties,