Personal Incidents.
I. JAMES BARRY AND EDMUND BURKE.
The father of James Barry, the Irish painter, was a sailor, who was disgusted with his idle, dreamy, good-for-nothing son. His mother perceived his natural ability, but tried to dissuade him from study for the sake of his health. He had therefore to prosecute his art studies in the face of the greatest difficulties. At length, while yet a boy, he ventured to send to a public exhibition in Dublin his first matured production—“St. Patrick’s Arrival on the Coast of Cashel.”
When the exhibition opened, Barry with beating heart entered it with the crowd. To his infinite delight, it quickly gathered around his picture, and murmurs of approval arose on every side. Suddenly the throng made way for one whose judgment none might dispute—the orator, statesman, and philosopher, Edmund Burke. Having examined the composition closely, he praised it warmly, ungrudgingly. “Who is the painter?” he asked; “Where is he?”
Then the unknown stranger, the ill-dressed, pallid little boy, could contain his fierce delight no longer. “I am the painter!” he exclaimed from amid the crowd. “You, a boy; impossible!” was the reply from many lips. But when Edmund Burke advanced to congratulate him, he was overpowered. He burst into a sudden gush of tears, covered his face with his hands, and rushed from the room.—Royal School Series.
II. JENNY LIND AND THE QUEEN.
There is a pretty story told of Queen Victoria and Jenny Lind. It belongs to the year 1848, and shows how the modesty of two women—the Queen of England, and the Queen of song—made a momentary awkwardness which the gentle tact of the singer overcame.
It was on a night when Jenny Lind was to sing at her Majesty’s Theatre that the Queen made her first appearance after the memorable Chartist day. For the great artist, too, this was a first appearance, for it was the beginning of her season at a place where the year before she had won unparalleled fame.
It happened that the Queen entered the royal box at the same moment that the prima donna stepped upon the stage. Instantly a tumult of acclamation burst from every corner of the theatre. Jenny Lind modestly retired to the back of the stage, waiting till the demonstration of loyalty to the sovereign should subside.
The Queen, refusing to appropriate to herself that which she imagined to be intended for the artist, made no acknowledgment. The cheering continued, increased, grew overwhelming, and still there was no acknowledgment, either from the stage or the royal box.