In 1803 he was invited by government to undertake a second journey into the interior, and acceded to the invitation. He was at this time practising surgery in the neighbourhood of Peebles. But, says the writer of his life, "his journeys to visit distant patients-his long and solitary rides over 'cold and lonely heaths,' and 'gloomy hills assailed by the wintry tempest,' seem to have produced in him feelings of disgust and impatience, which he had perhaps rarely experienced in the deserts of Africa. His strong sense of the irksomeness of this way of life broke out from him upon many occasions; especially when, previously to his undertaking his second African mission, one of his nearest relations expostulated with him on the imprudence of again exposing himself to dangers which he had so very narrowly escaped, and perhaps even to new and still greater ones; he calmly replied, that a few inglorious winters of country practice at Peebles, was a risk as great, and would tend as effectually to shorten life, as the journey which he was about to undertake."

He sailed from England on the 30th of January, 1805, and reached Goree on the 28th of March. Thirty-five soldiers and a lieutenant volunteered to accompany him in his journey into the interior; and on the 26th of April, the day before he left the Gambia, we find him writing in high spirits to his friend Dickson: "Every thing at present," he says, "looks as favourable as I could wish; and if all things go well, this day six weeks I expect to drink all your healths in the water of the Niger. The soldiers are in good health and spirits. They are the most dashing men I ever saw; and if they preserve their health, we may keep ourselves perfectly secure from any hostile attempt on the part of the natives. I have little doubt but that I shall be able, with presents and fair words, to pass through the country to the Niger; and if once we are fairly afloat, the day is won.-Give my kind regards to Sir Joseph and Mr Greville; and if they should think that I have paid too little attention to natural objects, you may mention that I had forty men and forty-two asses to look after, besides the constant trouble of packing and weighing bundles, palavering with the negroes, and laying plans for our future success. I never was so busy in my life." Unfortunately his hopes were soon dashed by the death of all his companions except Lieutenant Martyn, and three of the soldiers. He however, determined to persevere in his enterprise, and embarked on the Niger in a crazy vessel which, principally by his own labour, he had constructed out of two old canoes, on the 17th of November, 1805. On that day he completed his journal up to that date, and wrote to the colonial secretary a letter, in which he says: "With the assistance of one of the soldiers, I have changed a large canoe into a tolerably good schooner, on board of which I this day hoisted the British flag, and shall set sail to the east, with the fixed resolution to discover the termination of the Niger, or perish in the attempt. I have heard nothing that I can depend on respecting the remote course of this mighty stream; but I am more and more inclined to think, that it can end no where but in the sea. My dear friend Mr Anderson, and likewise Mr Scott, are both dead; but though all the Europeans who are with me should die, and though I were myself half dead, I would still persevere; and if I could not succeed in the object of my journey, I would at last die on the Niger. If I succeed in the object of my journey, I expect

to be in England in the month of May or June, by way of the West Indies. I request that your lordship will have the goodness to permit my friend Sir Joseph Banks to peruse the abridged account of my proceedings, and that it may be preserved, in case I should lose my papers." On the 19th he wrote to his wife: "We have already embarked all our things, and shall sail the moment I have finished this letter. I do not intend to stop or land any where, till we reach the coast; which I suppose will be some time in the end of January. We shall then embark in the first vessel for England. If we have to go round by the West Indies, the voyage will occupy three months longer; so that we expect to be in England on the first of May. The reason of our delay since we left the coast was the rainy season, which came on us during the journey; and almost all the soldiers became affected with the fever. I think it not unlikely but I shall be in England before you receive this. You may be sure that I feel happy at turning my face towards home. We this morning have done with all intercourse with the natives; and the sails are now hoisting for our departure for the coast."

It is probable that he set sail immediately after writing these letters; but they are the last authentic tidings that have ever been received of this enterprising traveller. When rumours reached Senegal of his death, Governor Maxwell employed Isaaco, a native African of considerable intelligence, who had been despatched by Park with his papers and letters before he embarked on the Niger, to go in search of him. He was absent about twenty months, and returned in September, 1811, with a confirmation of the fatal intelligence, which he had received from Amadi Fatouma, the guide who accompanied Park from Sansanding, on his voyage on the Niger. Amadi says, in his journal, which has been published along with Isaaco's, "Next day (Saturday) Mr Park departed, and I (Amadi) slept in the village (Yaour). Next morning, I went to the king to pay my respects to him. On entering the house I found two men who came on horseback; they were sent by the chief of Yaour. They said to the king, we are sent by the chief of Yaour to let you know that the white men went away, without giving you or him (the chief) any thing; they have a great many things with them, and we have received nothing from them; and this Amadou Fatouma now before you is a bad man, and has likewise made a fool of you both.' The king immediately ordered me to be put in irons; which was accordingly done, and every thing I had taken from me; some were for killing me, and some for preserving my life. The next morning early, the king sent an army to a village called Boussa near the river side. There is before this village a rock across the whole breadth of the river. One part of the rock is very high; there is a large opening in that rock in the form of a door, which is the only passage for the water to pass through; the tide current is here very strong. This army went and took possession of the top of this opening. Mr Park came there after the army had posted itself; he nevertheless attempted to pass. The people began to attack him, throwing lances, pikes, arrows, and stones. Mr Park defended himself for a long time; two of his slaves at the stern of the canoe were killed; they threw every thing they had in the canoe into the river, and kept firing; but being overpowered by numbers and fatigue, and unable to keep up the

canoe against the current, and no probability of escaping, Mr Park took hold of one of the white men, and jumped into the water; Martyn did the same, and they were drowned in the stream in attempting to escape. The only slave remaining in the boat, seeing the natives persist in throwing weapons at the canoe without ceasing, stood up and said to them, Stop throwing now; you see nothing in the canoe, and nobody but myself; therefore cease. Take me and the canoe, but don't kill me.' They took possession of the canoe and the man, and carried them to the king."

James Barry.

BORN A. D. 1741.-DIED A. D. 1806.

JAMES BARRY was a native of Cork, in Ireland, and born in the year 1741. In the same city he had the advantage of a classical education, and was originally designed for the profession of a Catholic priest. This plan was probably abandoned in consequence of his prepossession for that art in which he afterwards so much succeeded.

He is said to have covered the walls, floors, and furniture, with sketches in black and red chalk; and, on his being placed at school, sat up whole nights drawing, and spent all his pocket-money in pencils and candles. He was, at this early age, remarkable for his stubborn and solitary disposition, and for preferring the company of the old and educated to that of the young and gay. So early as in his nineteenth year, and unassisted by any direct instruction in the principles of painting, he planned and executed a picture which alone would have transmitted his name to posterity, and the fate of which was almost as remarkable as that of its author. The picture was founded on an old tradition relating to the arrival of St Patrick, the apostle of Ireland, on the sea-coast of Cashel. The fame of his preaching soon reached the ears of the sovereign of that district, who, having satisfied himself of the truth of Christianity, professed himself a disciple, and was admitted by St Patrick to baptism. Water being provided, the king steps before the priest, who, disengaging his hand from the crosier-which, according to the manner of the times, was armed at the lower extremity with a spear-in planting it to the ground, accidentally strikes the foot of his illustrious convert. St Patrick, absorbed in the duties of his holy office, and unconscious of what had happened, pours the water on his head. The monarch neither changes his posture, nor suffers the pain from the wound for a moment to interrupt the ceremony: the guards express their astonishment in gestures, and one of them is prepared with his lifted battle-axe to avenge the injury by slaying the priest, while he is restrained by another, who points to the unchanged aspect and demeanour of the sovereign; the female attendants are engaged, some kneeling in solemn admiration of the priest, and others alarmed, and trembling at the effusion of the royal blood. The moment of baptism is that which Mr Barry chose for the display of his art; and few stories, it is presumed, have been selected with greater felicity, or with greater scope for the skill and ingenuity of the artist. The heroic patience of the king,-the devotional abstraction of the saint,-and the mixed emotions of the

spectators, form a combined and comprehensive scene, and convey a suitable idea of the genius of one, who, self-instructed, and at nineteen, conceived the execution of so grand a design. Having embodied the story on canvass, he proceeded forthwith to Dublin, and arrived there on the eve of an exhibition of pictures in that capital by the society which was the parent of that afterwards established in this country, for the encouragement of arts, manufactures, and commerce. Without recommendation, and accompanied only by a friend and schoolfellow, he obtained leave to have his picture exhibited. The general notice and approbation which it received were in the highest degree grateful to the ears of Barry, who was himself in the midst of the spectators, though unknown; and in that moment he was repaid for all the labour of his performance. Curiosity succeeded to the idle gaze of admiration; but as no one was able to give a satisfactory answer to the inquiries so loudly repeated for the author, the subject might have remained for some time longer in impenetrable obscurity, had not Barry himself been impelled by an irresistible impulse publicly to proclaim his propriety in that picture. His pretensions, as might be expected, were treated with disdain, and Barry burst into tears of anger and vexation; but the insults which he received were the tribute due to the extraordinary merits of the painting, and must have proved an ample recompense to the author for his temporary mortification. Although no premium had been offered that year by advertisement, yet the Dublin society voted the young artist £20, as a testimony of his merit. The picture itself was purchased by some members of the Irish parliament, and by them presented to that honourable house, as a monument of genius. It was unhappily consumed by the fire which some years afterwards destroyed the parliament house in Dublin.

Only a few days after the exhibition of this picture, the following letter, written by Dr Sleigh of Cork, to recommend the young painter, was delivered to Barry by a gentleman who proved to be no other than the celebrated Edmund Burke: "We do not know much of painting in this place; but we think Mr Barry's picture a work of genius, and even a fine production, independent of the disadvantages under which it was painted." The result of this interview was an intimate acquaintance between Burke and Barry. The following anecdote is related of one of their earlier conversations:-In a dispute upon taste, Barry quoted, by way of authority, the Treatise on the Sublime and Beautiful,' which Burke playfully disparaged as a mean performance, and no authority at all. Upon this Barry-whose natural pertinacity was not likely to be unmoved by opposition on such a subject-burst into vehement expressions in favour of the Treatise. "What!" said he, "do you call that a slight and unsubstantial work which is conceived in the spirit of nature and truth, is written with such elegance, and strewn all over with the richness of poetic fancy? I could not afford to buy the work, and transcribed it every word with my own hand!" Burke perceiving that the matter was likely to become more serious than he intended, replied, "I know the work-I wrote it myself." Whereupon the young artist sprung into his embrace, and then ran to a shelf and presented Burke with the copy which he had transcribed.

Burke saw the necessity of his friend's proceeding to London, and thence to Italy; and he soon meditated the accomplishment of both

these objects, to which the stern independence of Barry presented the strongest obstacle: for though he was himself eager to visit the metropolis, yet he curbed his impatience, until, by his own exertions, and the most servile drudgery in his profession, he had acquired a fund to defray the expenses of his journey. After the lapse of many months, he was at length prevailed upon to accompany Richard Burke, the brother of his friend, then on his way to London, who, it was added, would be able to render him some service in England. On his arrival in the metropolis, he was introduced to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who afterwards domesticated him in his own family, and extended every possible encouragement to his professional studies. It was at this time that he had also an opportunity of associating with Dr Johnson, Dr Goldsmith, and other celebrated characters. In cultivating the general principles of his art, and in the enjoyment of Burke's friendship and society-for he had then returned to England-Barry may be said to have passed some of the happiest hours of his existence; still months, and even years glided away, and the schools of Italy were left unexplored. This consideration was often present to the recollection of Burke, who no sooner came into administration along with the marquess of Rockingham, than he, together with Sir Joshua Reynolds, procured for Barry the means of travelling. In consequence of an arrangement equally honourable to all parties concerned, Barry proceeded to Italy, where he remained about five years,—a considerable portion of which period appears, from his correspondence with Burke, to have been passed in bickerings with his brother-artists. The works of Titian had the greatest share of his admiration, but he saw many defects, which none else saw, in Raphael and Michael Angelo; and declared that "Rubens, Rembrandt, Vandyck, Teniers, and Saalken, were without the pales of his church." Whilst at Rome, he is said to have been on the point of infidelity, when the perusal of Butler's Analogy of Religion' fixed his belief unalterably, though he remained a Catholic, and a bigotted one. He pursued no regular method of study, and painted only two original pictures whilst abroad; on his preparing to return to England, he appears to have felt some misgivings as to his future success. "Oh! I could be happy," he says, "on my going home, to find some corner where I could sit down, in the middle of my studies, books, and casts after the antique, to paint this work and others, where I might have models of nature when necessary, bread and soup, and a coat to cover me! I should not care what became of my work when it was done; but I reflect with horror upon such a fellow as I am, and with such a kind of art, in London, with house-rent to pay, duns to follow me, and employers to look for. Had I studied art in a manner more accommodated to this nation, there would be no dread of this."

6

Hitherto Barry's life had been more than usually prosperous; not only had his first unassisted effort in the profession been eminently successful, but he had also obtained the notice and protection of men whose patronage alone was honour. His first painting after his excursion to Italy was 'Venus rising from the Sea;' a production not inferior to any of the efforts of his pencil, and which by some judges has been pronounced to be his best. He afterwards painted Jupiter and Juno.' But not finding this style of composition meet with patronage, he took for his next subject The Death of Wolfe' at the battle of Quebec.