You are now for the first time acknowledged as subjects, and protected as such. Laws, indeed, cannot make men rich or happy. That they must do for themselves. But the law now leaves their natural faculties free. Whatever inheritance has come to them from their ancestors is not made any longer the instrument of distracting the peace and destroying the credit of their families. Those who have nothing but the means of acquiring substance, their industry, skill, and good economy, have those means left free. When one considers the force of powerful and inveterate prejudice, which must naturally operate against your relief, and the many errors, to call them by no worse a name, into which some of those who had the conduct of this business have fallen, it is rather to be wondered how so much has been done, than how no more came to be obtained. If some anger appears in many upon this occasion, remember, it is pleasanter to endure the rage of disappointment than the insolence of victory. There will be much arming, much blustering, and many pretended fears and apprehensions on this occasion. But I recommend it to you, and all you converse with, to bear all such things with good humour and humility. It will all speedily pass over, It is only the natural vent and purging off of an old distemper. It is your interest at this time to show that the favour you have received has produced the best effects imaginable; that you are truly attached to the constitution which has opened its doors to receive you; that you are modest and placable to those whose opinions have induced them to

oppose your relief; and that you are thoroughly grateful to those whose humanity and large sentiments have made that opposition fruitless. Indeed you have found your principal friends where vulgar opinion would least have sought for them. Those gentlemen, whose ancestors had been the most active in the framing oppressive laws, were the most zealous for their repeal; two of them went over to Ireland for no other reason than to vote for it. I mean Mr. Dunbar and Lord Lucan. The third is Mr. Mason, a descendant of Lord Molesworth. Lord Inchiquin likewise gave his proxy for the relieving act. You know the merits of the speaker on this business, and of the gentlemen who distinguished themselves in the debate, particularly those of the law. When the English acts had passed, I sent a copy of the first act, which was printed, to Mr. Goold, of Cork. The second, which related to Ireland, and which repealed the act of King William disabling Catholics from any interest in the last forfeited lands, was not printed when I left town, or I should have sent it. This act, which was moved for by Lord Richard Cavendish, next brother to the Duke of Devonshire, and seconded by Mr. Connolly, was a necessary leading step, without which nothing could be done for Ireland. One of those, you know, is among the worthiest gentlemen in your country; and the other, one of the first ornaments of this, for learning, honour, and bravery. I recommended you to Mr. Connolly for a licence to carry arms, I suppose, in the hurry of so much business, he forgot it, but I shall remind him of what you desire. I men

tioned your name to Lord Kenmare as a near relation of mine, for whom I had the greatest affection; and without desiring his future protection in direct terms, I thanked him for what he had already done for you; which I thought the best way of asking it at that time; but I have the honour of writing to him this day, and will not fail to refresh his memory concerning you. If some circumstances in my family had not prevented it, I should certainly, with some other friends whom you have not seen, of a long time, have surprised you among your woods, waters, and mountains. All here desire to be most affectionately remembered to you and yours. am ever, my dear Garret, your most affectionate kinsman, and faithful humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

I

The papers but too fully inform you of our bad accounts from ****. They are indeed very little different from those which I always expected.

EDMUND BURKE TO MR. BARRY.

MY DEAR BARRY,

London [1765 or 1766].

I AM greatly in arrear to you on account of correspondence; but not, I assure you, on account of regard, esteem, and most sincere 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 pencil; and every one to whom I showed your

letters felt an interest in your little adventures, as well as a satisfaction in your description; because there is not only a taste, but a feeling in what you observe, something that shows that you have a heart; and I would have you by all means keep it. I thank you for Alexander; Reynolds sets a high esteem on it, he thinks it admirably drawn, and with great spirit. He had it at his house for some time, and returned it in a very fine frame; and it at present makes a capital ornament in our little dining room between the two doors. At Rome you are, I suppose, even still so much agitated by the profusion of fine things on every side of you, that you have hardly had time to sit down to methodical and regular study. When you do, you will certainly select the best parts of the best things, and attach yourself to them wholly. You, whose 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 indulgent enough to bear my humour under the name of advice, you will permit me now, my dear Barry, once more to wish you, in the beginning at least, to contract the circle of your studies. The extent and rapidity of your mind carries you to too great a diversity of things, and to the completion of a whole before you are quite master of the parts, in a degree equal to the dignity of your ideas. This disposition arises from a generous impatience, which is a fault almost characteristic of great genius. But it is a fault nevertheless, and one which I am sure you will correct, when you consider that there is

a great deal of mechanic in your profession, in which, however, the distinctive part of the art consists, and without which the first ideas can only make a good critic, not a painter. I confess I am not much desirous of your composing many pieces, for some time at least. Composition (though by some people placed foremost in the list of the ingredients of an art) I do not value near so highly. I know none, who attempts, that does not succeed tolerably in that part: but that exquisite masterly drawing, which is the glory of the great school where you are, has fallen to the lot of very few, perhaps to none of the present age, in its highest perfection. If I were to indulge a conjecture, I should attribute all that is called greatness of style and manner of drawing to this exact knowledge of the parts of the human body, of anatomy and perspective. For by knowing exactly and habitually, without the labour of particular and occasional thinking, what was to be done in every figure they designed, they naturally attained a freedom and spirit of outline; because they could be daring without being absurd: whereas ignorance, if it be cautious, is poor and timid; if bold, it is only blindly presumptuous. This minute and thorough knowledge of anatomy, and practical as well as theoretical perspective, by which I mean to include foreshortening, is all the effect of labour and use in particular studies, and not in general compositions. Notwithstanding your natural repugnance to handling of carcasses, you ought to make the knife go with the pencil, and study anatomy in real, and, if you can, in frequent dissections.