Junius in his celebrated Letters' espoused the cause of Wilkes; but Horne took up this new and more formidable antagonist with great promptitude and boldness; and in the opinion of most, came off victor. His next efforts were directed to the important object of making public the proceedings of the legislature. The house of commons long resisted the attempt, but were at last obliged quietly to submit to this infringement of their rights.

In 1773 he resigned his vicarage of New Brentford, and again betook himself to the study of a more congenial profession, the law. For some time after this he remained in comparative obscurity, until an incident occurred of which he availed himself with great boldness and consummate ability. "Mr Tooke, a moderately wealthy political friend, whose name he was afterwards authorized to assume, sought his advice in a case that appeared desperate. In consequence of purchasing an estate called Purley, (from which Horne's great philological work took its title) he had been involved in a vexatious litigation about manorial rights with a neighbouring gentleman of great influence, who had betaken himself at last to the decisive expedient of an act of parliament. The bill which was in progress was highly unjust; but through some such fatality, as would never have happened before or since in such a place, it was going forward with the most perfect success, in contempt of every effort made to place the matter in its true light; and appeared certain of the final sanction of the house of commons on the third reading,-appointed for the very next day to that in which the case was despondingly stated to Horne. His answer was, If the facts be as you represent them, the house shall not pass that bill.' He immediately suggested an expedient which would perhaps have occurred to no other man in England, and took on himself the execution of a hazard which very few would have been willing, for the sake of either friendship or public justice, to share. He immediately wrote, in language the most pointedly offensive, an attack on the speaker of the house of commons, the noted Sir Fletcher Norton, with reference to the bill in question; and obtained its insertion in the newspaper, rendered so popular by the letters of Junius, on the condition, of course, that the printer, when summoned to account, should produce the author. The object of this proceeding was, to compel the house to a much more full and formal attention to the subject of the bill, than it had previously been induced to give; and at the same time, as an equally necessary thing, to give its virtue the benefit of having the censorial attention of the public strongly fixed on its conduct. He was confident that by doing this he should frustrate the parliamentary measure, and then, for the consequences to himself, he had courage enough to take his chance. The next day a great sensation was manifest in what might be called the political public; and, as he had foreseen, the attention of a full house was called, in precedence to all other business, to the flagrant outrage on its dignity,- -a dignity so vulnerable by a plain charge of misconduct, though it had not been injured in the least by the misconduct itself. After a fine display of generous indignation a summons was sent for the instant appearance of the printer. He obeyed, and, as he had been directed, immediately gave up the name of the criminal in chief, who had taken care to be already in the house, prepared to confront, probably with very little trepidation, the whole anger of

the august assembly. A momentary silence of surprise and confusion followed the announcement of his name, which was come to be almost synonymous with that expression of recognizance, 'the enemy.' On being called forth, he disavowed all disrespect to the speaker whom he had libelled, calmly explained the motives of the proceeding, and then made such a luminous statement of the case of his friend, that the schemers and advocates of the injustice were baffled, the obnoxious parts of the bill were immediately thrown out, and several resolutions were moved and carried to prevent all such precipitate proceedings for the future.' There is no punishing conquerors, however offensive may have been their conduct. After a very slight formality of detention in custody he was set at liberty, on some pretended inconclusiveness of proof against him." Mr Tooke evinced his admiration of Horne's talents and gratitude for his exertions, by bequeathing a considerable sum to him in his latter will, and authorizing him to assume his name.

An advertisement in the newspapers, signed with his name, proposing a subscription on behalf of the widows and children of those American soldiers who fell in the battle of Lexington, or, to use his own words, were "Englishmen inhumanly butchered by the king's troops for preferring death to slavery," brought upon Horne a prosecution, and in the month of July, 1777, he was found guilty of libel, and sentenced to twelve months imprisonment, and a fine of £200. After the expiry of his imprisonment, he applied for admission to the bar, having now kept the number of terms requisite ; but his application was twice rejected by a majority of the benchers of the Inner Temple. He now purchased a small estate near Huntingdon, and applied himself to the study and practice of agriculture. In 1782 we find him advocating Pitt's scheme of parliamentary reform, with great zeal and ability, although the measure fell short of his own views and wishes.

In 1786 he published his celebrated philological work entitled 'The Diversions of Purley,' in one 8vo. volume. It was subsequently enlarged to two quartos. In 1790 he stood as a candidate for the representation of Westminster, in opposition to Fox and Lord Wood. On this occasion he polled 1700 votes; and he improved the opportunity to present his memorable petition to the house of commons, in which he boldly censured its corrupt practices.

In 1794 he was arrested on a charge of high treason. The ministry at this time employed a number of reporters, or spies, through whom they endeavoured to learn the real sentiments of suspicious political characters. "One of the latter," says Mr Stephens, "attached himself to Mr Tooke, and was a frequent visitor at Wimbledon. His station and character were calculated to shield him from suspicion, but his host, who was too acute to be so easily duped, soon saw through the flimsy veil of his pretended discontent. As he had many personal friends, in various departments of government, he soon discovered the views, connexions, and pursuits of his guest; but, instead of upbraiding him with his treachery, and dismissing him with contempt, as most other men in his situation would have done, he determined to foil him, if possible, at his own weapons." "He accordingly pretended to admit the spy into his entire confidence, and completed the delusion, by actually rendering the person who wished to circumvent him, in his turn, a dupe. Mr Tooke began by dropping remote hints relative to

the strength and zeal of the popular party, taking care to magnify their numbers, praise their unanimity, and commend their resolution. By degrees he descended to particulars, and at length communicated confidentially, and under the most solemn promises of secrecy, the alarming intelligence that some of the guards were gained; that an armed force was organized; and that the nation was actually on the eve of a revolution. After a number of interviews, he at length affected to own, that he himself was at the head of the conspiracy, and boasted like Pompey of old,' that he could raise legions merely by stamping on the ground with his foot.""

The Wimbledon joke was a serious matter at Whitehall. Horne was arrested and committed to the Tower, whence he was transferred to the Old Bailey. He greatly rejoiced in the opportunity thus afforded him of making a public display of his political principles, and prepared himself to encounter the lord-chief-justice, in a speech, the tone and temper of which may be gathered from the opening sentences. "My lord-The intentions of your lordship, and of those by whom you are employed, are sufficiently barefaced and apparent to me; and no man who has read my petition to the house of commons can doubt of the motives and causes of this prosecution against me. The minister pledged himself solemnly to the house that I should be punished. And thus he keeps his word. My lord-I have the same taste of sweet and bitter in common with other men. I love life. I dislike death. But I believe there never was, and I trust that I shall find there never will be, in my mind, a single moment's hesitation or reluctance to lay down my life deliberately and cheerfully in defence of the rights of my country; and I never was more ready to do it than now." It concludes thus: "My lord-I will die as I have lived, in the commission of the only crime with which I can be charged during my whole life-the crime of speaking plainly the plain truth. And I doubt not that I shall plainly prove that I never spoke more truly than I do now, by pleading to this indictment-Not guilty. I shall surely one day be tried by God; and, in spite of all appearances to the contrary, I will hope now to be tried fairly by my country." This speech, however, was not spoken as it originally stood, his hostility having been mitigated by the complaisant attention shown him by the court. The trial ended in his almost instant acquittal.

In 1796 he again stood for Westminster, in opposition to Fox and Sir Allan Gardener, but was unsuccessful. In 1801, however, he entered the house of commons as member for Old Sarum, on the nomination of Lord Camelford. The ministry prevented his resumption of his seat, after the dissolution in 1802, by an act declaring the future ineligibility of persons who had been in holy orders. During the short period of his privilege he conducted himself with great moderation and good sense.

He spent the remaining years of his life at his seat at Wimbledon, in the cultivation of letters and rural pursuits. He died on the 18th of March, 1812. In point of stature, he did not exceed the middle size; but nature had formed him strong and athletic. His limbs were well-knit, compact, and duly proportioned; and he might be said to have been comely, rather than handsome, in his youth. His features were regular, and his hair, towards the latter end of life, was generally

combed loosely over the temples, and cut close behind. His eye was eminently expressive; it had something peculiarly keen, as well as arch in it; his look seemed to denote a union of wit and satire.

In many parts of his character he seemed to reconcile contradictions. In general he spoke as if destitute of feeling; and, for the most part, acted as if made up of sensibility; he united in himself what King William declared to appertain only to the duke of Marlborough, "the coolest head with the warmest heart." Gay, lively, and full of pleasantry in general conversation; on politics alone he was bitter, vituperative, and inflexible. On those occasions, however, he seemed to be actuated solely by conviction; and it is no small praise that, without regarding popularity, he was constantly on the side of liberty. Originally open, communicative, and confiding, he had, in the course of time, become close, reserved, and suspicious.

No man was ever more careless of praise towards the latter end of his life. A person who had written for years in a certain newspaper, at last felt, or affected to feel, a full conviction of the injustice he had committed, and actually repaired to Wimbledon for the express purpose of making the amende honorable: but he was coolly received by the philologist, who observed, "that he possessed no spleen whatever against him, and he was welcome to proceed exactly as before, if it could be of any service to his interests.'

"

As a writer, he was learned, able, and perspicuous; but, on the other hand, it must be allowed that he was severe in no common degree he himself appears to have been sensible of this; for he allows, "that he speaks too sharply for philosophy;" but it is added, that he disdained "to handle any useful truth daintily, as if he feared it should sting him." On one occasion he represents Lord Monboddo as “incapable of writing a sentence of common English." Not content with doubting the justice of the earl of Mansfield's decisions, he was accustomed to question his knowledge of the laws. He also underrates the talents of Mr Harris; and even, when he allows that the Hermes had been received with universal approbation, both abroad and at home, he adds, with even more than customary asperity, "because, as judges shelter their knavery by precedent, so do scholars their ignorance by authority." He was a great enemy to every thing that bore the appearance of being slovenly or indolent in composition. Even in respect to familiar correspondence, he was of opinion, that all the minuteness of a special pleader ought to be adopted. As letters, even on the most trivial subjects, are intended to express the precise meaning and design of the writer, he thought they could never be rendered too plain or intelligible; and he constantly maintained that too much care could not be employed to suppress every loose, equivocal, or doubtful expression.

Charles Burney.

BORN A. D. 1726.-died a. D. 1814.

CHARLES BURNEY was born at Shrewsbury, in April, 1726, and received his education partly at the free-school founded by Queen Eliz

abeth in that town, and partly at the public-school at Chester, in which he first began his musical studies under Baker, a scholar of Dr Blow. About the year 1741 he returned to Shrewsbury, and pursued the study of music under his half-brother, James Burney, organist of St Margaret's in that town.

In 1744, being on a visit at his father's in Chester, he met with Dr Arne, on his return from Ireland, who persuaded his friends to send him to London; he was placed under that master three years, after which he had frequently the advantage of showing his exercises in composition to Pepusch, Rosengrave, and Geminiani. In 1749 he was elected organist of St Dionis Back-church, Fenchurch-street, on the death of Philip Hart; and the same year was appointed to play the organ at the new concert established at the King's Arms, Cornhill, instead of that formerly held at the Swan tavern, which had been burnt down by the great fire the preceding year. In the winter of this and the following year he composed for Drury-lane theatre, three musical dramas of different kinds: Alfred,' a masque, by Mallet; Robin Hood,' an English burletto, or comic opera, written by Mendez; and the music of 'Queen Mab,' a pantomine, which ran sixty nights the first season, and was revived almost every winter for near thirty years after. "The success and popularity which attended these early productions," says a writer in the Harmonicon, "might have attracted him permanently to theatrical composition, and thus deprived the world of his literary labours; but, fortunately, as it turned out, for the cause of musical literature, and his own reputation, the confinement and air of the metropolis threatened even his life: his physicians apprehended approaching consumption; and, yielding to their advice, he consented to retire to the country for a time." He therefore accepted the situation of organist at King's Lynn, in Norfolk, with a salary of £100 a-year; and continued to reside in that town for the succeeding nine years,-during which time, he first conceived the idea of writing a 'General History of Music,' and began reading and collecting materials for that purpose.

In 1760, finding his health considerably amended, he returned to London; where, from the zeal of his former friends, and the performance of his eldest daughter, a child of eight years, he was offered more scholars than he could undertake. Dr Johnson, in one of his letters to Mrs Thrale, states that his friend Burney had given fifty-seven lessons in one week. The duke of York, to whom he had the honour to be introduced by the earl of Eglinton, was so captivated by some of the most wild and difficult lessons of Scarlatti, which he had heard his little daughter play, that he desired him to put parts to them in the way of concertos. These were frequently performed to his royal highness and his friends by Pinto, at the head of a select band. The year after his return to London, besides his printed book of Harpsichord Lessons,' he composed several concertos, to display the abilities of his nephew and scholar, Charles Burney. Having amused himself with translating Rousseau's Devin du Village,' and adapting it to the original music, in 1766, at the instigation of his friends, Mr Garrick and Mrs Cibber, he brought it out at Drury-lane, with a few additional songs written and set by himself in order to suit it to the English stage. It was Mrs Cibber's wish to have performed in it herself; and she studied with that intent the part of Phoebe for a considerable time; but the uncertain state