tions, appointed Mr. B. his executor and residuary legatee. Mr. B. however, positively refused this, insisting upon it, that his property should go entirely to his relations but, at any rate, that nothing should come to himself. The event of Mr. R.'s death proved that the property, thus honourably refused, was considerable. : I had many opportunities of observing Mr. B.'s integrity and generosity in giving the merits of rival sculptors their just demands. He was sanguine in praising any thing felicitous that came from their hands, and seemed to take peculiar pleasure in expressing it. On the contrary, I do not recollect a single instance of his being severe on the defects that might have afforded ample scope for his criticism or wit. I remember, in walking with him round Westminster Abbey, that he seemed delighted in pointing out to me such excellencies in the works of different artists as are not commonly noticed. Among such as are, he warmly joined the public opinion in admiring the exquisite expression of Mrs. Nightingale's sinking in death; and the pathos and dignity of the figure of Eloquence, in the Duke of Argyle's monument. The latter, by its attitude, seemed to bid future artists stand at a distance; and he seemed to think this would be obeyed. I ventured to think that his figure of Lord Chatham was a copy of it. He said he was quite unconscious of it when he modelled that statue; but would not affirm that a figure, which he had so long admired, might not have given rise to his idea. He often remarked on the affectation of many with respect to the antique, who are without taste for selecting what is really excellent in it: "Call it," said he, "but an antique, and people begin immediately to find some beauty. Look at that figure in the corner of my study can you see any thing in it? Yet many who come here, and, at first, take no notice of it, as soon as they hear it is a cast from the antique, begin to admire! Had I made it a few years ago, it would not have produced me a shilling." He frequently discovered a very modest opinion of his own abilities. I have heard him repeatedly say, "I cannot grasp, much less arrange, at one time, several ideas. If I have any thing distinguishing, it is a knack at expressing an idea, single and detached. I stick to my mistress NATURE, and she often lends me her hand." "He knew," observes his son, "where his forte lay. I have heard him often compare himself to the cat in the fable, that had but one sure trick by which to save herself. He used continually to inculcate the importance of a man's attending to that one point, in which he discovered his chief talent to lie; and produced himself as an instance of the success attending this principle." His favourite topic was, the character of man; and he often discoursed upon that utter dependance, yet intolerable pride, which is so observable in human nature. "We are all beggars at best," said he, "but are ready to forget it; and that is one source of our pride. Two beggars stand at a door: the one receives a penny, the other a guinea: it is well if the latter does not begin to imagine some reason for the distinction: it is well if he does not swell upon it, and turn in contempt upon his fellow. Yet this is but a picture of a man's admiration of his gifts." This view of the matter led him to be ever suspicious of himself, and glad of any hint from his friends. The reader has, perhaps, observed in some eminent character, that his credit and usefulness have been greatly lessened by a peculiar habit or false sentiment, which either length of time, or the flattery of fond admirers, or a temper indisposed to receive animadversion, has at last rendered almost inveterate. 23* VOL. I. The real friends of such a character have therefore despaired of bringing him the common report: or, if such a friendly resolution to serve him had been determined upon, they have been at a loss, (like the mice of Esop proposing a bell for the cat's neck) who should venture to make the desperate experiment. Nothing of this sort of difficulty, I can fully aver, ever discouraged remark on the character before us: he seemed to feel the reproof of a friend as a token of peculiar friendship. Mr. J-, an old and very intimate acquaintance of Mr. B., says, that his "deceased friend was remarkably grateful, when told of his faults or deficiencies"-that "he laid a particular injunction" upon Mr. J—, "to mark his conduct and behaviour in business or company"—that, Mr. J "sometimes complied with this request in as severe a manner as possible"-that, he "always met with expressions of gratitude for his strictures ; and could perceive that Mr. B. seldom received his observations in vain." 66 me." : He was, indeed, so exquisitely sensible in point of self-suspicion, that it not only occurred on subjects were he naturally bowed to the superior knowledge and judgment of a friend, but on those where he had himself a decided superiority. Once walking through his pieces, as I passed a statue nearly finished, I hastily said, "Mr. B. that leg is too short." He replied, Stop, stop look again: for it never occurred to "Phoh!" said I, "I know nothing of the matter: no doubt but you are quite right." "I don't know that," answered he: "I have taken no other rule of proportion than the measure of my eye, and the remark of a fresh eye is always matter of serious consideration with me." I could give other instances of a weightier kind, which I avoid on account of being myself so personally concerned in them; and wish here to confess the pain I feel in being obliged to speak so frequently in the first person. Mr. B.'s habits were frugal, but not penurious. This statement I feel warranted to assert, though I am sensible it has been, and probably will be, denied. Being favoured by the public with the execution of most of the principal pieces which have been done of late, he could not but acquire considerable property: but the prudence, which, as the father of a large family, and in a precarious profession, he deemed it necessary to observe the plain and careless style of every thing about his house-the envy of some interested cotemporaries-and, above all, the motives of his conduct being greatly misunderstood, gave occasion to the objections which have been brought against his liberality. Far be it from the writer to attempt the extenuation of a vice so odious as covetousness. If it really existed in his friend, or should it be found in his own bosom, he trusts he should appear among the first to expose and condemn it. But, after the strictest investigation, he is convinced that Mr. B.'s memory has suffered injustice in this respect; and therefore he feels it a duty to regard the old admonition, That there was sometimes the appearance of parsimony cannot be denied; and, also, that he has been known to lament a disposition toward it while he dilated, as he frequently did, on the odiousness of the vice. "He has," says Mr. B. jun. "been thought hard and irritable when little mistakes have been made: but, if he was at any time little, it was in little things; for, in greater affairs, he always manifested a noble character of mind. In the year 1793, when public suspicion brought ruin upon many of the country banks, and shook, to their foundation, several substantial ones in town, Mr. B. ventured the greatest part of his property in the support of one of them; refusing to take such a kind of security as he knew would put his friend to an extraordinary expense. He would give a considerable sum of money to some pious or charitable design, on that very day in which he would burn his fingers by sparing paper in lighting a candle." It is also well known to some of his friends, that he positively refused to execute monuments, whenever he judged that the design or the inscription would have an unchristian tendency. As I write from conviction, and think it my duty to endeavour to remove what may have been injuriously imputed; so, on the other hand, I am ready to concede, that Mr. B. did not possess that splendour of bounty proportioned to his means, by which some religious characters have distinguished themselves, and put a dignity upon their profession. But a man may have general benevolence, and even largeness of heart, who is still not a THOrnton. Add to this, Mr. B.'s original circumstances had begotten close habits: they had become even natural to him; and he had, from sentiment and upon principle, a disapprobation of the expensive habits of the present day. His manner of living was that of the last age; and he thought such an example best for a large family, among whom his property was to be divided. I, however, mention on the best authority, that, as he observed his own infirmities and those of the tender part of his family to increase, he had determined soon to enlarge his expenses for ease and retirement, as far, perhaps, as Christian prudence, and its charitable requirements, would admit. I just said "he had determined;" and so, probably, have many who will read these Memoirs, and who, like him, have proceeded to opulence by industry: but let them, before it is too late, learn at least from facts which press upon them daily, that the present moment only belongs to man. Now, if ever, he can rationally propose to be wise; for |