the pleafure of feeing Mifs B. evidently improved. The latter end of March, although he was ftill weak, fhe was fo far recovered as to enable me to take my leave. Mifs B. has had no return of the complaint, on account of which I visited her. In this cafe it will be obferved, that other remedies were employed befides a regulated temperature. And there can be no doubt, that they each contributed their fhare to the recovery of this young lady." P. 93.

We cannot doubt that in fomne inftances, the plan may prove beneficial; but we very much doubt the beneficial tendency of the book which recommends it. Patients are invited to take the alarm on any acceffion of a cough, or when, to use a vulgar phrase adopted by this author, they have caught a cold; to fhut themfelves up in a room heated with a ftove, where they muft, in this changeable climate, remain the greater part of the year, at the mercy of their doctor and apothecary; and thus nurfe themfelves into a confumption, which by adopting an oppofite plan they might have avoided. How are we to reconcile with this artificial exotic plan, the decided benefit confumptive patients (really confumptive) derive from fea-voyages and horse-exercife, when the temperature is even confiderably below 60°. It is a fearful thing, that becaufe occafionally a puny delicate youth, that would fhrink from the external air, as the mimofa fenfitiva from the touch of a fly, is preferved by hothoufe confinement; people of all defcriptions, who can afford to live idly in a ftove-chamber, fhould be imprisoned and excluded from the cheering influence of fresh air, and varied fcenery, on account of a flight cold. It deferves alfo to be carefully confidered, whether, in any cafe, this method fhould be recommended, where the more efficacious plan of changing the climate can be purfued. We fear that many patients have already died, from the inefficacy of the artificial climate, whom a real mild country might have faved; and whatever tends to multiply these experiments, without neceffity, is pernicious.

Dr. Buxton, as we have already mentioned, has ftated only two cafes of his own patients; and is so highly satisfied with his plan, that he would not delay the publication of this treatife, for a few feasons, when he admits that he might

have had much greater experience of its powers." We fee no caufe for this hafte; the plan, we again ftate, is not new, and if the genius of Di. Beddoes has not fucceeded in eftablifhing the value of the remedy, furely Dr. Buxton might have waited till he had been in poffeffion of more facts, than he has been able to adduce in its favour.

ART. III. The Works of James Barry, Efq. Hiftorical Painter; formerly Profeffor of Painting at the Royal Academy, Member of the Clementine Academy at Bologna, &c. containing his Correspondence from France and Italy with Mr. Burke. His Lectures on Painting delivered at the Royal Academy. Obfervations on different Works of Art in Italy and France. Critical Remarks on the principal Paintings of the Orleans Gallery Ejay on the fubject of Pandora, c. (Now first publ fbed from Manufcripts, and illuftrated by Engravings from Sketches, left by the Author.) And his Inquiry into the Caufes which have obftructed the Progress of the fine Arts in England. His Account of the Paintings at the Adelphi ; and Letter to the Dilettanti Society. To which is prefixed, Some Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. 2 vols. 4to. pp. 1228. 51. 5s. Cadell and Davies. 1809.

THERE HERE are few fubjects on which the opinions of artists and connoiffeurs have more widely differed, than the merit of Mr. Barry. We know that during his life he filled a confiderable space in the temple of living fame, and we have fometimes thought that his works even derived fome advantage from a contraft with his perfonal eccentricities; but fince his death, cenfure has perhaps been too bufily employed, and has frequently confounded the oddities of the man with the genius of the artift. The volumes before us, therefore, are highly valuable, as affording that complete evidence which we did not before poffefs, and which will enable all who have a right to form their decifion with strict impartiality. That the decifion will, on the whole, be in his favour, we have little hefitation in affirming, while on the other hand we are willing to allow, as clearly proved, that his defects were numerous and confpicuous. If, however, we do not dwell on the latter at much length, it is because in many inftances they appear to have arifen from that which ought always to prescribe tenderness and compaffion; the irritations of a mind not fufficiently found.

The life of Mr. Barry in these volumes is formed chiefly from his correfpondence, a mode which has lately become common, although we think it may be neceffary hereafter to prescribe bounds to it. The biographer, it is true, is hereby relieved from the trouble of narrative, but the reader's at tention is too much diftracted from the principal object, and fuch works, unless the compilers will take a little more pains, we must confider as materials for a life, rather than the life itself.

I 2

itself. The outlines of Mr. Barry's hiftory appear to be

thefe.

He was the eldeft fon of John Barry and Julian Roerden, and was born in Cork, Oct. 11, 1741. His father was a builder, and in the better part of his life a coasting trader between England and Ireland. James was at first destined to this laft bufinefs, but as he difliked it, his father fuffered him to purfue his inclination, which led him to drawing and reading. His early education he received in the fchools at Cork, where he betrayed fome fymptoms of that peculiar frame of mind which became more confpicuous in his mature years. His fludies were defultory, directed by no regular plan, yet he accumulated a confiderable ftock of knowledge. As his mother was a zealous Roman Catholic, he fell into the company of fome priefts, who recommended the ftudy of polemical divinity, books, we prefume, all on one fide, for this ended in his becoming a flaunch Roman Catholic.

Although the rude beginnings of his art cannot be traced, there is reason to think that at the age of feventeen, he had attempted oil-painting, and between the ages of feventeen and twenty-two he executed a picture, the fubject "St. Patrick landing on the fea-coaft of Cafhell," which he exhibited in Dublin. This procured him fome reputation, and, what was afterwards of much importance, the acquaintanceof the illuftrious Edmund Burke.

During his ftay in Dublin he probably continued to cultivate his art, but no particular work can now be discovered. An anecdote, however, is preferved, which marks the character of the man.

"He had been enticed by his companions feveral times to caroufings at a tavern, and one night as he wandered home from one of thefe, a thought ftruck him of the frivolity and vicioufnefs of thus mifpending his time: the fault he imagined lay in his money, and therefore without more ado, in order to avoid the morrow's temptation, he threw the whole of his wealth, which perhaps amounted to no great fum, into the Liffey, and locked himself up with his favourite purfuits."

After a refidence of feven or eight months in Dublin, an opportunity offered of accompanying fome part of Mr. Burke's family to London, which he eagerly embraced. This took place in 1764, and on his arrival Mr. Burke recommended him to his friends, and procured for him his

firft employment, that of copying, in oil, drawings by the Athenian Stuart. At this early age (twenty-three) we are here prefented with letters from him which difcover a tafte, fentiment, and elegance of flyle, far fuperior to what could have been expected from his limited opportunities for obfer

vation.

In 1765 Mr. Burke and his other friends furnifhed him with the means of a trip to Italy, and his letters while there and in France, conftitute no fmall part of the present memoirs. They abound in obfervations on fubjects connected with his art, and particularly in criticifms on the great mafters. The value of fome of them to young artifs may perhaps be doubted, but the principles which he appears to have laid down in his own mind, as his future guides, mark a quick difcrimination, and an early habit of diftinguishing ftyles, and of bringing them to the criterion of nature. all matters, however, of individual opinion, there is fcope for flight fhades of difference as well as polemical contefts, especially when the objects are not equally visible to the reader and to the traveller, and care must be taken to avoid imbibing opinions at fecond-hand. Of this he is himself duly fenfible. In a letter to Mr. Burke (vol. i. p. 30,) he fays,

In

"I find there is little ufe to be made of the general remarks and criticifms of those who have written characters of the artists, and brought their merits and defects to a standard and fixed claffes it is liable to fo many exceptions, that one is every day in danger of being mifled, who lays any weight upon them. Men are not always the fame, they are sometimes attentive to one manner, fometimes to another; different fubjects, and a number of other things, often make them very different from themselves, &c."

With these are interfperfed letters from his correspondents, Meffrs. Edmund, William, and Richard Burke, Sir Horace Mann, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Nugent, &c. a few of which might have been omitted as too little interesting in themfelves, but thofe of the Burkes do great honour to their tafte and judgment, and efpecially to their difinterefted friendship for Barry.

In a letter to Barret, the artist, Mr. Barry gives the following account of one fince well-known in this country.

"I wanted to give you fome account of Lutherbourg, a landfcape painter here (Paris) whofe pictures I had not feen till juft now; and I have put off writing to you merely for that reason. It would have made me very happy to have had you with me,

I 3

&c.

&c. Lutherbourg is a young man about thirty, paints pretty much in the ftyle of Berghem, except that the landscape part is more principal than Berghem's. In my opinion he cuts Vernet down all to nothing, fo far as one may compare two people together fo different in their walks. Lutherbourg has fomewhat more diguity than Berghem, and is in every refpect nearly as well in his cattle, figures, and other parts of his pictures."

But we haften to a more valuable extract from a letter of Mr. Burke, an admirable specimen of friendship, candour, and taste.

"MR. BURKE TO MR. BARRY.

"" MY DEAR BARRY, London, no date. "I am greatly in arrear to you on account of correfpondence; but not, I affure you, on account of regard, esteem, and moft fincere good wishes. My mind followed you to Paris, through your Alpine journey, and to Rome; you are an admirable painter with your pen as well as with your pencit; and every one to whom I fhewed your letters, felt an intereft in your little adventures, as well as a fatisfaction in your defcription; because there is not only a tafte, but a feeling in what you observe, fomething that fhews you have an heart; and I would have you by all means keep it. I thank you for Alexander; Reynolds fets an high efteem on it, he thinks it admirably drawn, and with great fpirit. He had it at his houfe for fome time, and returned it in a very fine frame; and it at prefent makes a capital ornament of our little dining room between the two doors. At Rome you are, I fuppofe, even ftill so much agitated by the profufion of fine things on every fide of you, that you have hardly had time to fit down to methodical and regular ftudy. When you do, you will cer tainly felect the best parts of the best things, and attach yourself to them wholly. You, whofe letter would be the best direction in the world to any other painter, want none yourself from me, who know little of the matter, But, as you were always indul, gent enough to bear my humour under the name of advice, you will permit me now, my dear Barry, once more to wifh you in the beginning at leaft, to contract the circle of your ftudies. The extent and rapidity of your mind carries you to too great a diver. fity of things, and to the completion of a whole, before you are quite mafter of the parts, in a degree equal to the dignity of your ideas. This difpofition arifes from a generous impatience, which is a fault almost characteristic of great genius. But it is a fault nevertheless, and one which I am fure you will correct, when you confider that there is a great deal of mechanic in your profeffion, in which, however, the diftinctive part of the art confists, and without which the firft ideas can only make a good critic, not a painter. I contefs I am not much defirous of your compofing many pieces, for fome time at leaft. Compofition (though by

fome