active, clever fellow in his way, and seemed to me to be patronized by Mr. Burke, then said to be a student of the Middle Temple, and by his friend Mr. Netterville, and Mr. Nugent the merchant; for I was seldom there without seeing this party, amongst whom Richard Burke sometimes appeared.

"The great favourite of the company was a beautiful black horse. Whenever Johnson wanted him, he gave three smacks of his whip, and the docile creature came out of his stable and stood by his side; he then ran about the ring until another sound of the whip brought him again to his master. In one unlucky round he disobeyed, and his master's whip often sounded in vain. When at length he stopped, Johnson by a violent blow between the ears, felled him to the ground, and the creature lay for some minutes as if expiring. Mr. Burke broke from the circle, and running directly up to Johnson, vehemently exclaimed, You scoundrel! I have a mind to knock you down!' and he would I believe have done so, if Mr. Netterville had not reached him and interposed. Johnson had then leisure to make what apology he pleased, and thus the matter ended; but I shall never forget the impression of awe and admiration made upon myself and others by the solemn passion with which Mr. Burke uttered this otherwise coarse reproof. Though the circle was immediately broken, all kept a respectful distance; perhaps this was the first time he had ever produced an effect upon an audience. I must be excused for comparing great things with small; but when I first heard him in the House of Com

mons pouring out a torrent of indignation against cruelty and corruption, I was reminded, after an interval of many years, of the champion of the poor black horse."

While in Dublin towards the end of 1763, Edmund received a letter from his old friend Dr. Sleigh, of Cork, recommending to his attention a friendless son of genius, who had proceeded thence to the metropolis to exhibit a picture, of which in his native city no sufficient judgment could be formed. This was Barry, the celebrated painter. Mr. Burke saw him frequently, examined and praised his picture, inquired into his views and future prospects, and, desirous to try his powers of mind, broached an argument upon a question of taste rather ingenious than solid, which the other boldly opposed; quoting in support of his opinion, and ignorant as it seems of the real author, a passage from the Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful. Mr. Burke affecting to contend that this was a poor performance and no authority, considerable discussion ensued, until at length Barry becoming very angry, his new acquaintance, to appease his indignation, confessed himself to be the writer, when the irritable but enthusiastic painter, springing from his seat, ran and embraced him; and as a more unequivocal proof of admiration for the volume in dispute, produced a copy of it, which he had transcribed with his own hand.

The kindness of Mr. Burke did not stop at mere acquaintance and advice; for, though possessing but slender means himself, and with quite sufficient claims upon them, he had too much goodness of

heart, and too sincere sympathy with unfriended talents, to see them sink into hopeless neglect and poverty without at least giving them a chance for reward. No opportunities for improvement existing in Dublin, he offered the artist a passage to England with Mr. Richard Burke, just then returned from the West Indies, received him at his house in Queen Anne-street, introduced him to the principal artists, and procured employment for him to copy pictures under Athenian Stuart, until a favourable change in his own circumstances enabled him to do still more.

Whenever Parliament was sitting, Mr. Burke was observed to be a frequent attendant in the gallery, storing up those practical observations on public business and debate, soon to be drawn forth for active use. Most of his hours of study, as he frequently said afterwards, were devoted to a minute acquaintance with the principles and workings of the British Constitution. The next object in his eyes was our commerce; these alone, he said, had made us what we were a free and a great nation; and these he had spared no time, no labour, no sacrifice, thoroughly to understand, and for these alone had well earned his subsequent pension before he put his foot in the House of Commons. It is certain that he was the first who rendered the principles and many of the details of commerce generally intelligible in that assembly. Dr. Johnson was proud to be told a few years afterward, by an ex

cellent judge of the matter, the all knowing Jackson,' as he was called, that there was more good sense about trade in the account of his journey to the

Western Islands of Scotland, than would be heard for a whole year in Parliament, except from Burke.

In the discussions to which the peace and the proceedings of the Grenville Ministry gave rise, he is said to have taken a considerable share; and some letters which excited considerable notice, under the signature of Anti-Sejanus, were attributed to his pen. This may be doubted, or in fact denied. They might have been Mr. William Burke's; but Edmund, in all the Annual Registers up to the period of his connexion with the Rockingham Administration, preserves a rigid impartiality, strongly reprobating the licentiousness of the press on both sides, and complaining (1764) that "character no longer depended on the tenor of a man's life and actions; it was entirely determined by the party he had taken."

Previous to this time, it has been said, and never denied, that he had disciplined himself in public speaking at the famous debating society, known by the name of the "Robin Hood." Such indeed was then the custom among law-students and others intended for public life; and a story is told of the future orator having commonly to encounter an opponent whom nobody else could overcome; this person, it seems, was discovered to be a baker, whom Goldsmith, who had heard him several times speak, once characterized as being "meant by nature for a Lord Chancellor." Mr. Murphy had some faint recollection of the anecdote. Tradesmen form no inconsiderable part of such assemblies; and as unlettered minds often think originally, though crudely, it may not be useless to one

better informed, thus to seek exercise for its powers by beating down their errors. A circumstance almost precisely similar occurred to the late celebrated Mr. Curran, when keeping his terms in London, and is related in his memoirs by his son.

A suggestion of Mr. Reynolds to Mr. Burke, between whom a close friendship existed, cemented by admiration of each other's talents and private virtues, gave birth in 1764 to the famous Literary Club, in imitation of the social meetings of the wits of the preceding age. No class of persons, perhaps, require them more than those who, having little to enliven the solitary drudgery of the day, gladly fly to familiar converse in the evening with congenial minds. Here the wise may mix with the wise, not indeed to preach up wisdom, but to forget the follies of others in displaying some of their own. Here also were performed, without venting that undue personal animosity and unmeasured abuse of the criticism of our day, those offices to literature now undertaken by the leading reviews, in settling the claims of new books and authors. Literary enmities were then less general, perhaps, in consequence of men of jarring opinions and principles being brought more frequently together, and who found in the amenities of social intercourse something to soften the asperities of controversy. Authors, at present, associate more with the world and less with each other; but it may be doubted whether they or the public have gained by the exchange.

Among those of the club whom Mr. Burke much esteemed, and whose genius and foibles were