n'' ' Ex Libris C. K. OGDEN MEMOIRS EMINENT ETONIANS: NOTICES OF THE EARLY HISTORY OF ETON COLLEGE. EDWARD S. CREASY, M.A, BARRISTER AT LAW; PROFESSOR OF HISTORY IN 1TJIVKRSITY COLLEGE, LONDON; LATE FKLLOW OF KING'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDC.F, ; FORMERLY NEWCASTLE SCHOLAR, ETON. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. in tn 1850. LONDON I BRADBURY AND F.VANS, PRINTERS. WHITEFRIARS. UF 79^ LT JJNIVF" "Nil A E & 4 C^ T SANTA BAKBARA DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR, THE KEY, EDWARD CMYEN HAWTREY, D.D., HEAD MASTER OF ETON. ADMIRATION OF HIS ZEALOUS AND ABLE DISCHARGE OF A HIGH NATIONAL DUTY. PREFACE. I HAVE endeavoured to prepare and collect in this volume a series of memoirs of the most eminent men who have been connected with Eton, by education or office, during the four centuries that have elapsed since the foundation of the College to the present time. The project is one which Rawlinson and many others have, in the course of the last eighty years, undertaken and announced, but it has never before been completed. It is, indeed, more difficult than it would appear at first sight. The " Alumni Etonenses " of Harwood, the " Registrum Regale " of the Rev. G. H. Dupuis, and Allen's Manuscripts, which are preserved in Eton College Library, make it easy to ascertain all the eminent Etonians who liave been educated on the foundation, and who afterwards became members of the sister foundation of King's College, Cambridge. viii l-IIKFACE. From the same works, especially from the " Kegistrum," the names of all the Provosts and Fellows of Eton may be learned, with brief but useful epitomes of their lives. But there are no similar catalogues of the Oppidans, that is to say, of the great majority of those who have been educated at Eton for the last three centuries ; nor do the works to which I have referred, at all notice the students on the foundation, who, by being superannuated, or other causes, did not succeed to scholarships at King's. After collecting and arranging the information which I obtained from these sources, and adding the names of the great men who are familiarly known to have been Etonians, such as Wotton, "Waller, Walpole, Gray, Person, Canning, &c., I found it necessary to examine a very large number of biographical collections, such as "Johnson's Lives of the Poets ;" the " Biographia Britannica ;" Chambers's, Gorton's, and Cunningham's Biographical Dictionaries; the "Biographic Universelle ;" several Cyclopedias, and many more works of various kinds, in order to collect the names of those, whose eminence in life is well known, but whose Eton education is not equally notorious. I have also largely (and, I fear, wearisomely) availed myself of the kindness of my Eton friends in making researches on the subject. PREFACE. ix All this was preliminary to the composition of the Memoirs themselves. I fear that, notwithstanding the labour which I have employed, and the valuable information which has been supplied to me by others, the following enumeration of our " Heroes Etonenses " is not free from omissions. I fear this especially with regard to the Eton Prelates of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In a work which I published a few years ago, I investi- gated, and fully discussed, the details of the education, discipline, &c., that have existed, and now exist, at Eton. The same work contained a brief historical account of the foundation of the College, and of its early fortunes. I have incorporated in this volume some of the archaeological information which I then compiled ; but I have not felt it necessary in these pages to re-write the modern history of Eton, to describe the present condition and system of the school. I beg to take this opportunity of thanking the numerous friends who have kindly aided me in the preparation of this work. I wish more particularly to express my gratitude to the Rev. Edward Craven Hawtrey, D.D., Head Master of Eton ; to the Rev. G. R. Green, one of the Fellows of Eton ; x 1'1,'KFACB. to the Rev. W. G. Cookesley, one of the Assistant Masters ; to Spencer Walpole, Esq., M.P. ; to Dr. R. G. Latham, late Fellow of King's College, Cambridge ; and to W. Wakeford Attree, Esq., Barrister-at-law. I also beg to tender my respectful thanks to the Provost and Fellows of Eton College, for their permission to avail myself of the manuscripts and other sources of information which are preserved in the College Library. 2, MITRE COURT CHAMBERS, TEMPLE, May 25th, 1850. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. VAG< THE FOUNDER ..... 1 THE ORIGINAL CHARTER .... 3 STATE OF LEARNING IN ENGLAND . . 7 THE FIRST BUILDINGS . . 8 THE CHARTERS, STATUTES, AND COLLEGE ARMS . 10 FIRST MEMBERS OF THE COLLEGE TAKE POSSESSION . . 11 LIFE OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH ... .12 WILLIAM OF WAYNFLETE .... 20 ARCHBISHOP ROTHERHAM ........ 23 BISHOP WEST ........... '2!i BISHOPS BLYTHE AND LANE, JUDGE CONYNGSBY, PROVOSTS JOHN CLERC, WILLIAM WESTBURY, AND HENRY HOST ..... 30 COLLEGERS AND OPPIDANS ..... . . 31 WILLIAM PASTON AT ETON ...... . :;_' HIS LATIN VERSES, AND HIS LETTER TO HIS BROTHER . . . 32 ETON'S PERIL UNDER EDWARD THE FOURTH Ji3 SAVED BY PROVOST WESTBURY . . . . . . . . 33 \V.\s HENRY THE SEVENTH AX ETONIAN ? . . . . . ;{J THE BUILDINGS CONTINUED . . 35 XII CONTENTS. CHAPTER II. THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. PAB CROKE THE SCHOLAR 36 BISHOP ALDRICH .......... 39 JOHN ANDREWS .......... 40 BISHOP HAWKINS .......... 41 HALL THE HISTORIAN ......... 41 BISHOP FOXE 43 BISHOP COX 44 SIR THOMAS SUTTON 45 WALTER HADDON 48 SIR THOMAS SMITH 49 SIR HENRY SAVLLE 52 ADMIRAL GILBERT .......... 55 WILLIAM OUGHTRED 58 THOMAS TUSSER .......... 60 PHINEAS AND GILES FLETCHER 61 THE MARTYRS JOHN FULLER, ROBERT GLOVER, LAWRENCE SAUNDERS, AND JOHN HULLIER ........ 67 PROVOSTS LUPTON, DAY, AND BISHOP ALLEY 71 ARCHBISHOP LONG, BISHOP GHEAST, GILES FLETCHER, JOHN COWELL, BISHOP MONTAGUE ........ 72 JOHN CHAMBERS 73 HENRY THE EIGHTH'S SURVEY 74 OLD CONSUETUDINARIUM ......... 77 STUDIES IN 1560 85 SYSTEM OF SCHOOL GOVERNMENT . . . . . . . 86 ASSISTANT MASTERS ... 87 CONTENTS. xni CHAPTER III. THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. SIR HENRY WOTTON ...... . EARL OF ESSEX ....... . . WALLER THE POET ..... PROVOST ALLESTREE ........ ROBERT BOYLE .......... HENRY MORE ........ . . DR. HAMMOND ....... BISHOP PEARSON .......... BISHOP SHERLOCK ........ SIR ROBERT WALPOLE ...... LORD BOLINGBROKE ....... SIR WILLIAM WYNDHAM ......... LORD TOWNSHEND ......... THE EVER MEMORABLE JOHN HALES ....... BISHOPS BARROW AND FLEETWOOD ..... BISHOPS WADDINGTON AND HARE ....... BISHOP MONCK AND PROVOST THOMAS ROUS . HENRY BARD AND CHARLES MASON ANTHONY ASCHAM AND SAMUEL COLLINS ...... MR. PEPYS AT ETON .... PROVOSTS THOMAS MURRAY AND RICHARD STEWARD . PROVOSTS NICHOLAS LOCKYER, JOHN MEREDITH, ZACHARY CRADOCK, AND HENRY OODOLPHIN . PACK M 102 110 118 123 137 145 151 153 157 178 194 196 199 203 204 206 207 208 209 209 210 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. PAN LORD CHATHAM ... ...... 211 LORD CAMDEN . 253 LORD LYTTELTON 268 HENRY FOX, AFTERWARDS LORD HOLLAND . . . 276 SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS ... ... 279 HENRY FIELDING . ....... 281 GRAY ........... 299 BROOME AND WEST .......... 325 DR. ARNE ........... 32.0 JACOB BRYANT .......... 332 HORACE WALPOLE ......... 339 MARQUIS OF GRANBY ......... 354 SIR WILLIAM DRAPER ......... 356 CHARLES JAMES FOX . . . . . . . . . 358 LORD NORTH .......... 389 LORD SANDWICH .......... 394 SIR JOSEPH BANKS ......... 3.0.5 MARQUIS CORNWALLIS . . . . . . . . 401 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY ........ 405 LORD HOWE .... ...... 431 GEORGE CANNING ... ..... .\'M WILLIAM WINDHAM . 45 ; ]\'urb/tr/o>i > 8 Conquest of Canada. 58 WILLIAM nnniTKED. called the father of our North American empire. In the Septem- ber of 1583, Gilbert left St. John's Harbour to explore the coast, being himself on board a small sloop, The Squirrel, of only ten tons burden, and having two larger vessels with him. One of his consorts soon foundered in a storm ; and Gilbert then steered for home through a tempestuous sea, still remaining in the little sloop, and accompanied by the Golden Hind, the survivor of the two larger ships. The latter vessel alone ever reached land. On the ninth of September her crew saw the last of the sloop that carried Gilbert. They were close to her for a short period during that day, both vessels being in imminent peril, especially the Squirrel. The Golden Hind drifted by her a little before nightfall, and the crew of the larger bark plainly discovered Gilbert standing on the stern with a book in his hand, and they heard him exclaim to his men, " Courage, my lads, we are as near Heaven at sea as on land." For some hours those on board the Golden Hind saw a small light rise and fall at a little distance from them, and they knew that it was the lantern of their admiral's vessel that was plunging and rolling among the stormy waves. Soon after midnight the light suddenly disappeared. The little bark had been swallowed up by the sea, and the brave and good Sir Humphrey Gilbert had perished with her. (Chalmers' Biog. Diet. Hakluyt's Voyages. Warburton's Conquest of Canada.) WILLIAM OUGHTRED. THE increased attention that has lately been paid at Eton to the study of mathematics, augments the pleasure with which we recognise among the Etonians of the sixteenth century the first mathematician of his time, and one of the ablest that England has ever produced. "William Oughtred was born at Eton in 1573, was educated on the foundation of the College, and became a Kingsman in 1592. Aubrey, in his curious biographical memoir of Oughtred, says : " His father taught to write at Eaton, and was a scrivener; and understood common arithmetique, and 'twas no small help and furtherance to his son to be instructed in it when a school-boy." Oughtred made diligent use of the advan- tages which Eton and Cambridge gave him for acquiring classical and philosophical instruction ; but the bent of his genius was to WILLIAM OUGHTRED. 59 the mathematics ; and in boyhood, youth, manhood and old age, he spent the greatest part of his time in what he fondly termed " the more than Elysian fields of the mathematical sciences." At the age of twenty-three he wrote his Horologiographia Geometrica, a treatise on geometrical dialling, which was first published in 164-7. In 1600, he projected the instrument now known as the Sliding Rule, by which the processes of addition and subtraction are per- formed mechanically ; and which by the use of logarithmic scales is adapted for the similar performance of multiplication and division. Oughtred set little value on this most ingenious and scientific invention, nor was it till thirty years afterwards that his casual mention of it in conversation with one of his pupils caused it to be given to the world. A most dishonest attempt was made by a person named Delemain to pirate the invention, but Oughtred then came forward and fully vindicated his title as the original discoverer. In 1631 appeared Oughtred's " Arithmetic* in Kumero et Speciebus Institutio," or as it was speedily and generally called his " Clavis." This work soon became the text-book for mathe- matical students at Cambridge, and the first mathematicians of the age lent Oughtred their assistance in passing successive editions through the press. Other works of high merit and repu- tation on mathematical subjects were published by him during his life ; and, according to Aubrey, more scientific discoveries might have been given by him to the world, had it not been for the penu- rious disposition of a lady whom he married, and who " would not allow him to burn candle after supper, by which means many a good notion is lost and many a problem unsolved." This, how- ever, seems only to have been the case in his extreme old age ; for Aubrey elsewhere tells us, on the authority of Oughtred's eldest son, that Oughtred " studyed late at night : went not to bed till 1 1 o'clock ; had his tinder box by him ; and on the top of his bed- staffe he had his ink-horne fixed. He slept but little. Sometimes he went not to bed in two or three nights, and would not come down to meale till he had found out the guasitum." The same authority states, " None of his sonnes he could make any great scholar. He was a little man, had black hair and black eies, with a great deal of spirit. His witt was always working ; he would draw lines and diagrams in the dust." Oughtred's marriage, which Aubrey thinks to have been so pre- judicial to science, took place some time after he obtained the 60 THOMAS TUSSER. living of Albury, in Surrey, to which he was presented about 1600. He was rector of this parish for more than half a century, and was uniformly esteemed and beloved for his exemplary discharge of his pastoral duties. It certainly appears, according to Aubrey, that some of the neighbouring clergy at first criticised his sermons rather severely ; yet even these admitted that in his old age, when he attended a little more to the study of divinity and a little less to that of mathematics, " he preached admirably well." He resided at his living, and his house was frequented by scien- tific men of all nations, who came to consult him and do him honour ; and it also was continually filled with pupils, who sought the benefit of his teaching. Among others, the Earl of Arundel engaged his services to instruct his sons. Aubrey says, " that this nobleman was Oughtred's great patron, and loved him entirely. One time they were like to have been killed together by the fall of a grott at Albury, which fell downe but just as they were come out. My Lord had many grotts about his [Oughtred's] house, cutt in the sandy sides of hills, wherein he delighted to sitt and discourse." Fuller says that Oughtred was " unanimously acknowledged the prince of mathematicians " and there is a strong proof of how high Oughtred's fame must have stood abroad, in the fact, which Aubrey records, that when the troubles of the civil wars broke out inEngland, the Duke of Florence invited Oughtred over to Italy, and offered him 500/. a-year; but Oughtred declined it on account of his religion. Oughtred did indeed pass through the troubles of these times without actual molestation, though not without some hazard. In 1646 he was in danger of a sequestration; but by the influence of Lilly, the astrologer, he escaped. Oughtred retained his faculties both of body and mind in rare perfection to the great age of eighty-seven. His death is said to have been accelerated by excess of joy at hearing of the restoration of King Charles the Second. Fuller, in his Book of Worthies, says of him, " This aged Simeon had a strong persuasion that before his death he should behold Christ's anointed restored to the throne, which he did accordingly, to his incredible joy, and then had his dimittis out of this mortal life, Jan. 30th, 1660." (Biog. Brit.} THOMAS TUSSER, the author of " Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry," and the favourite poet of English agriculturists, was an Etonian, and was at Eton during this century. Southey says of him : " This good, honest, homely, useful old rhymer was born about PHINEAS AND GILES FLETCHER. 61 the year 1520, at E/ivenhall, near Witham, in Essex. He died about the year 1580, in London, and was buried in St. Mildred's Church, in the Poultry. The course of his industrious but unpros- perous life, is related by himself among the multifarious contents of his homespun Georgics ; a work once in such repute that Lord Moles worth, writing in 1723, and proposing that a school for hus- bandry should be erected in every county, advised that ' Tusser' s old Book of Husbandry should be taught to the boys, to read, to copy, and to get by heart ;' and that it should be reprinted and distributed for that purpose." Udall was Headmaster of Eton while Tusser was there, and the poet thus records the severity of his "Plagosus Orbilius :" " From Paul's I went to Eton sent, To learn straightways the Latin phrase ; Where fifty three stripes given to me At once I had, For fault but small, or none at all, It came to pass thus beat I was. See, Udall, see the mercy of thee To me poor lad." I must plead guilty to an inability to wade through Tusser. We know that " Molle atquefacetum Virgilio annuerunt yaudentes rure Camcence," but the author of our English Georgics is utterly destitute of these qualities. Tusser' s versification, however, is curiously elaborate for the time when he wrote. Warton has pointed this out. His rhythm also is always good, and his language free from inversions ; two merits that have probably gone far in insuring his permanent popularity among the class for which he wrote. I turn with pleasure to two other Eton poets of a little later period, to PHINEAS and GILES FLETCHER. Southey says, "No single family has ever in one generation produced three such poets as Giles and Phineas Fletcher, and their cousin the dramatist." Eton has the honour of having educated the two first of the poetical triumvirate. They were the sons of Dr. Giles Fletcher, who will be soon mentioned in these pages. Phineas Fletcher was elected from Eton to King's in 1GOO. He became a Fellow of the College in due course, and continued to be one till 1621, when he was presented to the living of Hilgay, in Norfolk, by Sir Henry Willoughby. He held this living till his 1'IIIXKAK FLE'i death in 1650. The poem of " The Purple Island/ 5 by which he is known to posterity, was chiefly written by him in youth, us is proved by allusions in it to the latter part of Queen Elizabeth's reign. " The Purple Island" is a long allegorical poem, wherein ;i shepherd gives to his companions, under the guise of describing an island, its inhabitants, and enemies, first an anatomical description of the human body, and then a metaphysical account of the passions, vices, and virtues of the human mind. No genius could render such a subject attractive ; but it is greatly to the credit of the author's purity and taste, that in his hands no part of it is coarse or repulsive. He is an obvious admirer and follower of Spenser ; and those who find the " Faery Queen" tedious, will certainly find "The Purple Island" unreadable. On the other hand, a true lover of Spenser will read Fletcher with pleasure. His versification is graceful, his language clear and well-chosen, and there are some passages in his poem which would command the praise of all who became acquainted with them. I select for quotation the descrip- tion of Despair and the Two Deaths, among the foes whom the Old Dragon sends against the Soul : " The second in this rank was black Despair, Bred in the dark womb of eternal Night : His looks fast naiFd to Sin ; long sooty hair Fill'd up his lank cheeks with wide staring fright : His leaden eyes, retir'd into his head Light, Heav'n, and Earth, himself, and all things fled : A breathing corpse he seem'd, wrapt up in living lead. * * * * * ** Instead of feathers on his dangling crest A luckless raven spread her blackest wings ; And to her croaking throat gave never rest, But deathful verses and sad dirges sings ; His hellish arms were all with fiends embost, Who damned souls with endless torments roast, And thousand ways devise to vex the torturd ghost. " Two weapons, sharp as death he ever bore, Strict Judgment, which from far he deadly darts ; Sin at his side, a two-edged sword he wore, With which he soon appals the stoutest hearts ; Upon his shield Alecto with a wreath Of snaky whips the damn'd souls tortureth : And round about was wrote, ' Reward of sin is death.' " The last two brethren were far different, Only in common name of Death agreeing ; The first arm'd with a scythe still mowing went ; Yet whom, and when he raurder'd, never seeing ; GILES FLETCHER. 63 Born deaf, and blind ; nothing might stop his way : No pray'rs, no vows his keenest scythe could stay, Nor beauty's self, his spite, nor virtue's self allay. " No state, no age, no sex may hope to move him ; Down falls the young, and old, the boy and maid ; Nor beggar can entreat, nor king reprove him ; All are his slaves in's cloth of flesh array 1 d : The bride he snatches from the bridegroom's arms, And horrour brings in midst of love's alarms : Too well we know his pow'r by long experienc'd harms. " A dead man's skull supplied his helmet's place, A bone his club, his armour sheets of lead : Some more, some less, fear his all frighting face ; But most, who sleep in downy pleasure's bed ; But who in life have daily learn'd to die, And dead to this, live to a life more high ; Sweetly in death they sleep, and slumb'ring quiet lie. " The second far more foul in every part, Burnt with blue fire, and bubbling sulphur streams ; Which creeping round about him fill'd with smart His cursed limbs, that direly he blasphemes ; Most strange it seems, that burning thus for ever, No rest, no time, no place these flames may sever ; Yet death in thousand deaths without death dieth never." The other brother, GILES FLETCHER, after leaving Eton, went to Trinity College, Cambridge. He, like his brother, took holy orders, and held the living of Alderton in Suffolk. Nothing more is recorded of him ; save that he died at Alderton while yet in the prime of life. He chose a far superior subject for his poem, to that which his brother had selected. Giles's poem is on Christ's Victory and Triumph. Hallam correctly decides that "he has more vigour than his elder brother, but more affectation in his style." I cannot concur with Hallam in adding that "he has less sweetness and less smoothness." I will quote a portion of the song of the sorceress in the scene of the Temptation. Many of these lines seem to me to be eminently smooth and sweet : " Love is the blossom where there blows Every thing that lives or grows : Love doth make the Heav'ns to move, And the Sun doth burn in love : Love the strong and weak doth yoke, And makes the ivy climb the oak ; Under whose shadows lions wild, Soften'd by love, grow tame and mild : * * Love did make the bloody spear Once a leafy coat to wear, GILES FLETCHER. While in his leaves there shrouded lay Sweet birds, for love that sing and play : And of all love's joyful flame, I the bud and blossom am. Only bend thy knee to me, Thy wooing shall thy whining be. " See, see the flowers that below Now as fresh as morning blow, And of all, the virgin rose, That as bright Aurora shows : How they all unleaved die, Losing their virginity ; Like unto a summer-shade, But now born, and now they fade. Every thing doth pass away, There is danger in delay : Come, come, gather then the rose, Gather it, or it you lose. All the sand of Tagus' shore Into my bosom casts his ore : All the valleys' swimming corn To my house is yearly borne : Every grape of every vine Is gladly bruis'd to make me wine ; While ten thousand kings, as proud, To carry up my train have bow'd, And a world of ladies send me In my chambers to attend me. All the stars in Heav'n that shine, And ten thousand more, are mine : Only bend thy knee to me, Thy wooing shall thy winning be." Giles Fletcher, like his brother, is of the Spenserian school ; and, like his brother, sometimes ventures to compete with their common master. It is singular that each should have given an elaborate allegorical description of Despair, as if to try how closely they could follow their master in one of his most celebrated per- formances. The passage in Christ's Triumph on Earth, in which the description of Despair is given, is also remarkable, as having afforded a hint to Milton for his description of the first meeting between the Tempter and ourSaviour in the "Paradise Regained :" " Twice had Diana bent her golden bow, And shot from Heav'n her silver shafts, to rouse The sluggish salvages, that den below, And all the day in lazy covert drouse, Since him the silent wilderness did house : The Heav'n his roof, and arbour harbour was, The ground his bed, and his moist pillow grass : But fruit there none did grow, nor rivers none did pass. GILES FLETCHER. " At length an aged sire far off he saw Come slowly footing, every step he guest One of his feet he from the grave did draw. Three legs he had, the wooden was the best, And all the way he went, he ever blest With benedicities, and prayers store, But the bad ground was blessed ne'er the more, And all his head with snow of age was waxen hoar. " A good old hermit he might seem to he, That for devotion had the world forsaken, And now was travelling some saint to see, Since to his beads he had himself betaken, Where all his former sins he might awaken, And them might wash away with dropping brine, And alms, and fasts, and church's discipline ; And dead, might rest his bones under the holy shrine." 65 " Tims on they wandred ; but these holy weeds A monstrous serpent, and no man, did cover. So under greenest herbs the adder feeds ; And round about the stinking corps did hover The dismal prince of gloomy night, and over His ever-damned head the shadows err'd Of thousand peccant ghosts, unseen, unheard, And all the tyrant fears, and all the tyrant fear'd. " He was the son of blackest Acheron, Where many frozen souls do chatt'ring lie, And rul'd the burning waves of Phlegethon, Where many more in flaming suphur fry. At once compelled to live, and forc'd to die, Where nothing can be heard for the loud cry Of 'Oh !' and 'Ah !' and 'Out, alas ! that I Or once again might live, or once at length might die !' " Ere long they came near to a baleful bower, Much like the mouth of that infernal cave, That gaping stood all comers to devour, Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave, That still for carrion carcases doth crave. The ground no herbs, but venomous, did hear, Nor ragged trees did leave ; but every where Dead bones and skulls were cast, and bodies hanged were. " Upon the roof the bird of sorrow sat, Elonging joyful day with her sad note, And through the shady air the fluttering bat Did wave her leather sails, and blindly float, While ever with her wings the screech owl smote Th' unblessed house : there on a craggy stone Celeno hung and made his direful moan, And all about the murdered ghost did shriek and groan. GILES FLETCIIKI,'. " Like cloudy moonshine in some shadowy grove, Such was the light in which Despair did dwell ; But he himself with night for darkness strove. His black uncombed locks dishevell'd fell About his face ; through which, as brands of Hell, Sunk in his skull, his staring eyes did glow, That made him deadly look, their glimpse did show Like cockatrice's eyes, that sparks of poison throw. " His clothes were ragged clouts, with thorns pinn'd fast ; And as he musing lay, to stony fright A thousand wild chimeras would him cast : As when a fearful dream in midst of night, Skips to the brain, and phansies to the sight Some winged fury, straight the hasty foot, Eager to fly, cannot pluck up his root : The voice dies in the tongue, and mouth gapes without boot. " Now he would dream that he from Heaven fell, And then would snatch the air, afraid to fall ; And now he thought he sinking was to Hell, And then would grasp the earth, and now his stall Him seemed Hell, and then he out would crawl : And ever, as he crept, would squint aside, Lest him, perhaps, some fury had espied, And then, alas ! he should in chains for ever bide. " Therefore he softly shrunk, and stole away, He never durst to draw his breath for fear, Till to the door he came, and there he lay Panting for breath, as though he dying \ere ; And still he thought he felt their craples tear Him by the heels back to his ugly den : Out fain, he would have leapt abroad, but then The Heav'n, as Hell, he fear'd, that punish guilty men." Perhaps the finest stanzas in Giles Fletcher's poem are those in which the remorse of Judas is described : " For, him a waking bloodhound, yelling loud, That in his bosom long had sleeping laid, A guilty conscience, barking after blood, Pursued eagerly, nay, never stay'd, Till the betrayer's self it had betray'd. Oft changed he place, in hope away to wind ; But change of place could never change his mind : Himself he flies to lose, and follows for to find. " There is but two ways for this soul to have, When parting from the body, forth it perges ; To flie to Heav'n, or fall into the grave, Where whips of scorpions, with the stinging scourges, THE MARTYRS. (7 Feed on the howling ghosts, and fiery sur_ r < > Of brimstone roll about the cave of night, Where flames do burn and yet no spark of light, And fire both fries, and freezes the blaspheming spright. : There lies the captive soul, aye-sighing sore, Reck'ning a thousand years since her first bands ; Yet stays not there, but adds a thousand more, And at another thousand never stands, But tells to them the stars, and heaps the sands : And now the stars are told, and sands are run, And all those thousand thousand myriads done, And yet but now, alas ! but now all is begun." THE MARTYRS. IN several of the preceding memoirs in this chapter I have alluded to the religious troubles and persecutions of Queen Mary's reign. Besides the eminent men whom I have already mentioned as having shared the sufferings of the Reformed Church during that period, many more Etonians are recorded in the Alumni Etonenses, as having been afflicted for conscience' sake. I do not stop to particularise them all ; but our humble tribute of gratitude and honour must be said to Four, whose faith was strong even unto death, and who sealed their belief with their blood. These are JOHN FULLER, who became a scholar of King's in 1527 ; and was burnt to death on Jesus Green in Cambridge, April 2nd, 1556 : ROBERT GLOVER, scholar of King's in 1533 ; burnt to death at Coventry on the 20th of September, 1555 : LAWRENCE SAUNDERS, scholar of King's in 1538; burnt to death at Coventry on the 8th of February, 1556 : JOHN HULLIER, scholar of King's also, in 1538; burnt to death on Jesus Green, Cambridge, on the 2nd of April, 1556. I have condensed from Fox some account of the Martyrdom of the two last. The narrative of JOHN GLOVER'S sufferings may also be found in that writer. (Towns/tencTs Edition, vol. vii.) Respecting LAWRENCE SAUNDERS, the old Martyro- logist of the Reformation says : " After that Queen Mary, by public proclamation in the first year of her reign, had inhibited the sincere preaching of God's holy word, as is before declared, divers godly ministers of the word, which had the cure and charge of souls committed to them, did, notwithstanding, according to their bounden duty, feed their flock faithfully, not as preachers authorised by public authority i -i 68 THE MARTYRS. (as the godly order of the realm was in the happy days of blessed King Edward), but as the private pastors of particular flocks ; among whom Laurence Saunders was one, a man of worshipful parentage. His bringing up was in learning from his youth, in places met for that purpose, as namely in the school of Eton ; from whence (according to the manner there used) he was chosen to go to the King's College in Cambridge, where he continued scholar of the College three whole years, and there profited in knowledge and learning very much for that time. Shortly after that, he did forsake the university, and went to his parents, upon whose advice he minded to become a merchant, for that his mother, who was a gentlewoman of good estimation, being left a widow, and having a good portion for him among his other brethren, she thought to set him up wealthily ; and so he, coming up to London, was bound apprentice with a merchant, named Sir William Chester, who afterward chanced to be sheriff of London the same year that Saunders was burned at Coventry." ..." Saunders tarried not long time in the traffic of merchandise, but shortly returned to Cambridge again to his study ; where he began to couple to the knowledge of the Latin, the study of the Greek tongue, wherein he profited in small time very much. Therewith, also, he joined the study of the Hebrew. Then gave he himself wholly to the study of the holy Scripture, to furnish himself to the office of a preacher." Fox then describes Saunders 1 arrest, trial, and condemnation. " The next day, which was the 8th of February, he was led to the place of execution in the park without the city, going in an old gown and a shirt, bare-footed, and ofttimes fell flat on the ground, and prayed. When he was come nigh to the place, the officer appointed to see the execution done, said to master Saunders, that he was one of them which marred the Queen's realm, with false doctrine and heresy, ' wherefore thou hast deserved death/ quoth he ; ' but yet, if thou wilt revoke thine heresies, the Queen hath pardoned thee : if not, yonder fire is prepared for thee.' To whom Master Saunders answered, ' It is not I, nor my fellow preachers of God's truth, that have hurt the Queen's realm, but it is yourself, and such as you are, which have always resisted God's holy word ; it is you which have and do mar the Queen's realm. I do hold no heresies ; but the doctrine of God, the blessed gospel of Christ, that hold I ; that believe I ; THE MARTYRS. 69 that have I taught ; and that will I never revoke/ With that, this tormentor cried, 'Away with him/ And away from him went Master Saunders with a merry courage towards the fire. He fell to the ground, and prayed : he rose up again, and took the stake, to which he should be chained, in his arms, and kissed it saying, 'Welcome the cross of Christ ! welcome everlasting life ! ' and being fastened to the stake, and fire put to him, full sweetly he slept in the Lord. " And thus have ye the full history of Laurence Saunders, whom I may well compare to St. Laurence, or any other of the old martyrs of Christ's church ; both for the fervent zeal of the truth and gospel of Christ, and the most constant patience in his suffer- ing, as also for the cruel torments that he, in his patient body, did sustain in the flame of fire. For so his cruel enemies handled him, that they burned him with green wood, and other smothering, rather than burning fuel, which put him to much more pain, but that the grace and most plentiful consolation of Christ, who never forsaketh his servants, and gave strength to St. Laurence, gave also patience to this Laurence, above all that his torments could work against; which well appeared by his quiet standing, and sweet sleeping in the fire, as is above declared." The following are portions of Fox's record of the fiery trial and victory of Hullier : " Concerning the story of John Hullier, martyr, partly men- tioned before, for the more full declaration of the death and martyrdom of that good man, because the story is but rawly and imperfectly touched before ; for the more perfecting thereof, I thought thereunto to add that which since hath come to my hand, as followcth. " First, John Hullier was brought up at Eton College ; and after, according to the foundation of that house, for that he "as ripe for the university, he was elected scholar in the King's College, where also, not tarrying full three years of pro- bation before he was Fellow of the College, he after a little season was one of the ten conducts in the King's College, which was anno ] 539. " Then at length, in process of time, he came to be a curate of Babraham, three miles from Cambridge, and so went afterward to Lynn ; where he, having divers conflicts with the Papists, was from thence carried to Ely to Dr. Thirleby, then bishop there; who, 70 TIII: .\iAirm;s. after divers examinations, sent him to Cambridge Castle, where he remained but a while. From thence lie was conveyed to the town- prison, commonly called the Tolbooth, lying there almost a quarter of a year, while at length he was cited to appear at Great St. Mary's on Palm Sunday eve, before divers doctors, both divines and law- yers, amongst whom was chiefest Dr. Shaxton; also Dr. Young, Dr. Segewick, Dr. Scot, Mitch, and others ; where, after examina- tion had, for that he would not recant, he was first condemned, the sentence being read by Dr. Fuller " On Maundy-Thursday coming to the stake, he exhorted the people to pray for him ; and after holding his peace, and praying to himself, one spake to him, saying, ' The Lord strengthen thee ;' whereat a sergeant, named Brisley, stayed and bade him hold his tongue, or else he should repent it. Nevertheless Hullier answered and said either thus or very like (the effect was all one), ' Friend, I trust that as God hath hitherto begun, so also he will strengthen me, and finish his work upon me. I am bidden to a Maundy, whither I trust to go, and there to be shortly. God hath laid the foundation, as I by his aid will end it/ . . . . " Which done, he went meekly himself to the stake, and with chains being bound, was beset with reed and wood, standing in a pitch-barrel ; and the fire being set to, not marking the wind, it blew the flame to his back. Then he feeling it, began earnestly to call upon God. Nevertheless his friends, perceiving the fire to be ill kindled, caused the sergeants to turn it, and fire it to that place where the wind might blow it to his face. " That done, there was a company of books which were cast into the fire ; and by chance a communion-book fell between his hands, who receiving it, joyfully opened it, and read so long as the force of the flame and smoke caused him that he could see no more. And then he fell again to prayer, holding his hands up to heaven, and the book betwixt his arms next his heart, thanking God for sending him it. And at that time, the day being a very fair day and a hot, yet the wind was somewhat up, and it caused the fire to be the fiercer ; and when all the people thought he had been dead he suddenly uttered these words, ' Lord Jesus ! receive my spirit/ dying very meekly. " The place where he was burned is called Jesus Green, not far from Jesus College. Seager gave him certain gunpowder, but little to the purpose ; for he was dead before it took fire. All the PROVOSTS LUPTON, DAY, AND BISHOP ALLEY. 71 people prayed for him, and many a tear was shed for him." (Fox's Martyrs, vol. viii. pp. 378-381.) One Eton Provost of this century signalised himself among the persecutors of those whose tenets he had once professed to hold. This was Dr. Henry Cole, who was made Provost of Eton in 1554. The brief record of this man's disgraceful career, in the " Registrum Regale/' is as follows : " Henry Cole, Fellow of New College, Oxford, in 1523; Warden of New College, Oct. 4, 1542, which he quitted in 1551. Having advocated the Reformation, he became in Queen Mary's reign a rigid Romanist, and was appointed by her to preach, before the execution of Cranmer, in St. Mary's Church at Oxford. Dean of St. Paul's, in 1556. Vicar-General under Cardinal Pole, in 1557. Soon after the accession of Elizabeth he was deprived of his Deanery, fined 500 marks, and imprisoned. Whether he was formally deprived of the Provostship, or withdrew silently, does not appear. He died in the Fleet in 1561." There are several names and notices of Etonians in the lists of Eton Provosts and Fellows and Alumni Etonenses between 1500 and 1600, to which I have not yet adverted, but which must not be wholly omitted from this Chapter. ROGER LUPTON was elected Provost in 1503; he was made Fellow of Eton, Feb. 16, 1503, the day before he was elected Provost; Canon of Windsor, 1504; resigned the Provostship in March, 1535 ; died in 1540 ; buried in Lupton's Chapel, which he built ; he also built the great tower and gateway leading to the cloisters. WILLIAM DAY was made Provost in 1561. He had been ad- mitted into King's College from Eton, 1545. He was appointed Fellow of Eton, in 1560 ; Canon of Windsor, in 1564; Dean of Windsor, in 1572 ; Bishop of Winchester, in 1595. Died Sept. 20, 1596. WILLIAM ALLEY, went from Eton to King's in 1528. He left Cambridge when a Bachelor of Arts, and then studied for some time at Oxford. He afterwards entered the Church, and dis- tinguished himself among the Reformers. On Queen Mary's accession, he left a benefice which he had been holding, and fled into the North of England, where he was unknown. He there travelled from place to place, and obtained a subsistence for himself and his wife by teaching youth and practising physic which he had studied at the University. On Queen Elizabeth's coming to 72 GILES FLETCHER AND CO WELL. the throne, Alley was made Divinity Lecturer at St. Paul's Cathedral, and in 1660 he was raised to the Bishoprick of Exeter. He is said to have been eminent for the variety as well as the depth of his knowledge : and he was also honourably conspicuous for his faithful and earnest attention to his Episcopal duties. He died in 1570. JOHN LONG, who became a Scholar of King's in 1533 ; became Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of Ireland. EDMUND GHEAST (Kingsman in 1536) was made, in 1559, Bishop of Rochester, and in 1571, Bishop of Salisbury. GILES FLETCHER (King's in 1565), father of the two Etonian poets of that name, was employed on many state affairs by Queen Elizabeth. When that Queen, in her desire to encourage the trade with Russia, which was opened by the English ships that in her reign first effected a passage to Archangel, resolved on sending an Ambassador to Muscovy, she selected Dr. Fletcher for that mission. He resided for some time in that country, and on his return published a curious account of the condition of the Russian people, their government, army, &c., which may be seen in Hakluyt's collection of Voyages. Dr. Fletcher died in 1610. JOHN COWELL, who left Eton for King's in 1570, was an emi- nent student of the Roman law, and was also a grand common lawyer. He and Coke were constant rivals and opponents. Coke, with his customary coarseness, always called Cowell " Dr. Cowheel." Cowell compiled and published a Law dictionary, which gave great offence to the House of Commons by some of the high prerogative doctrines which its author had asserted in it. Co well's " Inter- preter, or Signification of Law Terms," is still the basis of our Law dictionaries, as Jacobs and Tomline did, in fact, little more than re-edit him with additions ; nor are the bulky quartos, which now figure with a new editor's name on the shelves of the law-student, anything more than amplified and interpolated Cowell. RICHARD MOUNTAGUE, born in 1576, at Dorny, Bucks, was edu- cated on the foundation at Eton, and in 1594 went to King's. In 1613 he obtained the rectory of Stamford Rivers, in Essex, with a Fellowship at Eton, and three years subsequently the deanery of Hereford. His next piece of preferment was a stall at Windsor, where he read the divinity lecture from 1720, the date of his appointment, till 1728. In the mean time he commenced an attack on the first part of the learned Selden's " History of BISHOP MOUNTAGUE AND JOHN CHAMBERS. 73 Tythes," which performance James the First was much pleased with, and encouraged him to proceed in his examination of early Church history. This work appeared in 1621, and in the following year he published his " Analecta Ecclesiasticarum Exercitationum." In 1024, finding that some of the Society of Jesuits were making converts in his parish of Stamford, he gave them a challenge to answer certain queries, to which they replied by a short pamphlet, entitled " A New Gag for the Old Gospel." To this Dr. Mountague rejoined another, " An Answer to the late Gagger of the Protes- tants." In the management of this controversy, however, he gave considerable offence to the Calvinistic party, who accused him before the House of Commons as a favourer of Armimanism ; but the encouragement which he received from the King induced him to publish a vindication of the work, under the title of " Appello Caesarem." This aggravated his offence in the eyes of his anta- gonists, and he was brought in 1625 before the first Parliament of Charles the First, in spite of whose personal countenance the book was voted seditious, the author reprimanded by the Speaker at the bar, and ordered to find security for his appearance in 2000/., being committed in the meanwhile to the custody of the Serjeant-at- arms. Archbishop Laud now interfered in his favour, and with such success, that in the following year, although on a revision of the case Parliament still pronounced the work " calculated to dis- courage the well-affected in religion from the true Church ;" yet the proceedings against its author were discontinued, and in 1628 Charles advanced him to the Episcopal Bench, as Bishop of Chi- chester. Over this diocese he presided ten years, at the expiration of which period he was translated to Norwich, but survived this last elevation only a short time, dying in 1641. Besides the writings already enumerated, he assisted in bringing out Sir H. Savile's edition of St. Chrysostom's works, which appeared in 1613, and was the author of a " Commentary on the Epistles of Photius," folio, Gr. et Lat. ; " Originum Ecclesiasticarum," folio ; " The Acts and Monuments of the Church before Christ," folio ; and " Thean- thropicon, seu de Vita Jesu Christi." Bishop Mountague was a prelate of great acuteness as well as learning, and even his oppo- nents, Selden among the number, do justice to his scholarship and Biblical learning. (Bior/. Brit.} JOHN CHAMBERS, who was made a Fellow of Eton in 1582, deserves to be mentioned as one of the benefactors of the College. 71 HENRY VIII. S SURVEY. He founded two Postmasterships in Merton College, Oxford, for superannuated Eton scholars: one in the gift of the Provost of King's, the other of the Provost of Eton, value 65/. per annum, besides rooms, and a portion of commons. The buildings of the College were continued during the early part of this century. Dr. Lupton, who was Provost from 1503 to 1535, built the Chantry Chapel in which he lies buried, and on the door of which is carved the Rebus of his name, the syllable LUP, with the figure of a Tun below it. He also built the Great Tower and Gateway leading to the Cloisters. Eton came into imminent peril near the close of the reign of Henry the Eighth. The last Parliament of that monarch sub- jected to his disposal all the Colleges, Chantries, and Hospitals, in the kingdom, and all their manors, lands, and hereditaments ; and the King was empowered to send his Commissioners to seize them to his use. Henry's officers came to Eton, and took an inventory of all the College property; and, had he lived a few months longer, there is good cause to fear that Eton would have ceased to flourish. The survey which was then made of the College property is preserved, and may be seen in the MS. History in the British Museum. The information contained in it is curious and minute, and I have set it out at length in a note. 5 There is written at 5 SURVEY OF EATON COLLEGE, Co' BUCKS. In the above year (1545), a Survey was made of the state of this College, w ch was return'd thus : De Collegia Etonensi, ~[ Com. Buclcs, 37. H. VIII. J The College of Eton, founded by K. Hen. VI. Rob'. Aldridge Bp of Carlill Provost there. The said College is a Parish Church. s. d. The said College is of the yearly value of ... 1066 16 9-J Whereof, paid for Collectors fees & Rents, Resolutes and such other as doth appear in the Ministers Accounts 62 17 1$ Paid to the Provost for his Stipend 30 To 7 Fellows at 5 the peice 35 20 To one of the Chaplains having more .... 13 4 To the Schoolmaster 10 To the Usher 400 To the Clerks call'd Conducts, y re of one is an Organ Player 21 6 8 HEXRY VIII. S SURVEY. 75 the foot of it a melancholy quotation from Virgil; as if the Etonian who transcribed this list of the possessions of his College thought that they were about soon to be torn away. But the d. In all for Stipends . .121 Paid to the Vice Provost To the Chantor To the Sexton To the Under Sexton To the two Bursers To the Clerke of the Lands a. d. In all . . . 14 2 Paid to the Keeper of y e Obitts, & for K. Hen : y e 5 th . & Queen Katherine his wife, Queen Margaret y c Founders Wife, & for William Wainfleet late Bishop of Winton . And so remainetli 2 13 14 855 3 4 For y e which sum (of .855 3s. 4d.) y re is yearly born the Dyetts of the Provost, Vice- Provost, Fellows, Chaplains, 70 Schollars, 13 poor Children, & 10 Choristers, & 5 of the Provosts Servants, & other Servants of the House ; And also for Liveries, Wages and Reparations, and other charges as well ordinary as extraordinary. The Ornam" or goods appertaining to y e s d . College is worth, s. d. as by y e Inventory y re of more plainly may appear . . . 373 Plate Gilt & enamell'd poize Plate Gilt not enamell'd . Parcel Gilt . And white Plate oz. pwt. 314 5 1000 847 10 152 10 2314 5 Remaining in the hands of the Reverend Father in God, Robert Aldridge Bishop of Carlill, & Provost of the College there. The Provost and Fellows with other Stipendaries of y c said College had by y c old f ~ \ * * s. d. The Provost 75 Tenn Fellows, every of y m 1 100 Tenn Chaplains every of y m 5 50 The Schoolmaster ........ 16 The Usher 6 13 4 And Conducts, w rc of one is an Organ Player, and his Stipend p. An 6 To 3 other at 4 the peice 12 To the Clerke of the revertie 3 6 8 The Parish Clerk 3 6 8 And 4 other Clerks at 40. y* peice 8 In all . . 280 6 8 7G HENRY VIII. S SURVEY. death of Henry the Eighth saved Eton ; and by the act passed in the first Parliament of Edward the Sixth, which confirmed to the new King most of the spoils which his predecessor had not appropriated, Eton, Winchester, the Oxford and Cambridge Col- leges, and several others were specially exempted and preserved. There is a full and minute account of the state of Eton about the year 1560, which shows the general system of the School, the discipline kept up among the boys on the foundation, and the books read in the various forms at that period. This curious document is preserved in a manuscript in Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and is transcribed in the MS. history of Eton in the British Museum. Of the which sum y e said College doth pay for like stipends, but for rewards ........ To the Vice Prov st and others And for keeping 5 Obits ....... 121 14 14 149 4 In all Because that much of their lands was taken f r y' n , and given to Wyndesor Coll : by K. E. IV. Summ of the whole valour of y e Possessions belonging to all y e Chantries, Hospitalls, Colleges & Fraternities w ch in the said County of Bucks, w th 1065 16s. 9d. ob. q. For the Possessions of Eton College .... Whereof, In Rents Resolute and other Ordinary allowances before declar'd with 211 13s. 5d. q. for Hie ordinary allow- ances going out of y e s d . Coll : of Eton .... And so remaineth for the Stipends & Salaries of Priests & others, with 855 3s. 4d. For the Diets of the said College of Eton The whole Valor of all y c goods and Ornaments belonging to all the Premises [i.e. in y e whole County] w th 373 for y e goods of y c said Coll : of Eton .... The whole Weight of Chalices and other Plate belonging 1 to all y c afores' 1 specified Chantries, Hospitalls & Col- 1 Eton Coll., 23 14 5 leges [i. e. in y e County of Bucks] with 2314 ounces & \Cowity 278 15 one quarter unto y e College of Eton appertaining is I Total 2593 Memorandum. Anno 37. H. VIII. Reg r : Bradshaw y e King's Attorney, w th Rob. Drury, Geo Wright & Hugh Fuller, Esq". came to Eton College, took an Inven- tory of the Plate, &c. The Plate came to ...... 1299 16 3 ob. q. 235 1 S 106415 Og.(Sic.) 404 13 3 oz. pw. 02. 2295 a. d. 312 13 4 The Ornaments valued at Upon y e Parchm 1 : Inventory there is written in an Old hand ; Fuit Ilium & ingens Gloria Teucrorum : ferus Omnia Jupiter Argos Transtulit : inceiisa Danai dominantur in Urbe. OLD CON8TTETUDINABIUM. 77 It commences with a Calendarium, in which the holidays and customs observed in the several months are enumerated. I have given it in the original Latin in a note/ and the curious in Etonian c CONSUETUDINARIUM VETUS SCHOL^E ETONENSIS. [Harl. MS. 7044. p. 1 67. From a MS. in Corp. Chr. Coll. Camb.] Anno Domini, 1560. See 5 Hug. 423. Mense Januurio. Primum ludendum est utroque vespere ante coenam et post, in festis omnibus majoribus duplicibus. Et schola et cubiculum verruntur a prandio. In die Circumcisionis luditur et ante et post coenam pro strenuis ; pueri autem pro consuetudiue, ipso Calendarum Januar. die, veluti ominis boni gratia carmina com- ponunt, eaque vel prseposito, vel prseceptori et magistris, vel inter se ultro citroque communiter mittunt. Epiphanise festum majus duplex luditur et ante et post. Postridie ejus diei rursus strenue vel invitis animis incumbitur in pristiua studia literarum. 13 die, exequiue Gul. Wanflete etiam celebrantur : dantur singulis 2d. Circiter festum Conversionis Divi Pauli, ad horam nonam quodam die pro arbitrio moderatoris, ex cousueto modo, quo eunt collectum Avellanas mense Septembri, itur a pueris ad montem. Mons puerili religioue Etonensium sacer locus est, hunc ob pulchritudinem agri, amoenitatem graminis, umbraculorum temperationem, et Apollini i't .Musis veiierabilem sedem faciunt, carminibus celebrant, Tempe vocant, Heliconi praeferunt. Hie uovitii seu recentes, qui annum uondum viriliter et nervose in acie Etonensi ad verbera steterunt, sale primo condiuntur, turn versiculis qui habeant salem ac leporem, quoad fieri potest, egregie depinguntur. Deinde in recentes epigrammata faciunt, omni suavitate sermonis et facetiis alter alterum superare con- tendentes. Quicquid in buccam venit libere licet effutire, modo Latine fiat, modo habeat urbanitatem, modo careat obscocna verborum scurrilitate, postremo et lacrymis salsis humectant ora genasque, et turn demum veteranorum ritibus initiantur. Sequuntur orationes, et parvi triumphi, et serio laetantur, cum ob praeteritos labores turn ob cooptationem in tarn lepidorum commilitonum societatem. His peractis, ad horam primam domum revertuntur, et post coenam ludunt ad octavam usque. Ftbructrio mense. In Fcsto Purificationis Mariana; luditur. Majus duplex. Februarii 7 die exequise domini Bost, ^Etonensis quondam prsesidis, celebrantur. Postridie, iis precibus finitis qute divinitus ad expiandas animas institute sunt, luditur et ante coenam et post. In die Luna; Carnisprivii,ad horam nonam luditur,et conduntur carmina, sive in laudem sive in vituperium Bacchi patris, et quia clientes Bacchi poetoe dicuntur, in cujus tutela omnes constituti sunt, omnium metrorum omni genere Dionysium canunt. Carmina condita a pueris 7 mi et 6" et aliquot 5 li ordinis, aifiguntur valvis interioribus collegii. Die Martis Carnisprivii luditur ad horam octavam in totum diem ; venit coquus, affigit lau'Hiuim cornici, juxta illud, Pullis corvorwn inrocantilus cum, ad ostium scholse. 27 die Rogerio Luptono anmiatim parentant. Erogatur singulis denarius. A prandio luditur ad octavam usque. Mense Afartio. Festum Annunciationis Maries minus duplex. Non luditur nisi pro arbitrio prteceptoris. Aprili mense. In die Mercurii hebdomadse sanctse, circiter horam nonam cessatur a publicis studiis, et scribitur. 78 OLD CONSUETUDINAIMfM. archaeology will find it well worth consulting. Among other points of importance to be noticed in it, is the great encouragement shown at that period to Latin versification, and occasionally to Discunt scribere qui nondum scite pingunt ; qui vero eleganter sua manu aliquid possunt, hi describunt ordine figures elementorum, et sociis exempla ad imitandum proponunt. A prandio circa horara quartam itur ad teraplum, ad rem divinam. In die Ccenae Domiuicse, certus discipulorum numerus seligitur a prseceptore vener- andum sacramentum recepturus. Qui communicarunt, prandent in mensa seorsim lautius ex sumptibus collegii, et a praudio petunt a prseceptore veniam obambulandi et peragrandi agros. Facilis concedit, modo non divertant ad tabernas vinarias aut cerevisiarias. Sumpta sacra synaxi redeunt in chorurn induti supparis, neque abesse oportet ab agendis Deo gratiis in aula. Luditur ab omnibus post praudium et coenam, ad octavam. In die Veneris Sancto scribitur ad nonam usque circiter; deinde venitur ad tern plum ad preces matutinas ; post prandium conveniunt discipuli omnes ad ludum literarium. Ad primam horam ingreditur supremus scholse moderator, et orationem habet ad pueros, prascipue provectiores ; proponit quaenam res sit Eux a P' crT ' a > quomodo sit recipienda, quibus recipiatur digne, quibus indigne. Ita luculentam praebens exhorta- tionem, in hoc sermone unam horam bene terit. Ad quartam reditur ad templum. Post luditur ; quo lusus tempore gymnasiarcha constituit qui et quot, postero die, sacrosanctse dominicse se admovebunt. In Sabbato Sancto Paschae, quod solenne habetur, scribitur ad septimam usque vel octavam ; dein venitur ad templum. A prandio luditur, donee pulsetur ad preces vespertinas. Itur cubitum ad septimam ; nam de tertia vigilia surgere solebant dominicse mortis et resur- rectionis praestantem gloriam gratissima memoria recolentes. Hie dum mos viguit, tresaut quatuor scholastici majores natu eliguntur a prseceptore, ad rogatum sacrorum sedilis, qui cum cereis et facibus accensis observent sepulchrum, pro ceremonia, ne Judaei furentur Dominum, aut quod potius est, ne quid damuum contingat ex negligenti luminum observatione. Diebus hujus hebdomadse festis luditur et ante et post. Diebus operariis scribitur ; sed luditur a coena ad octavam usque ad diem luneo proxi- mum, tune reditur ad studia. Mense Maio. In die Philippi et Jacobi, si lubeat praeceptori, et si sudum fuerit, surgunt qui volunt circiter quartam, ad colligendos ramos Maios, modo non sit madefactis pedibus ; et turn ornant fenestras cubiculi frondibus virentibus, redolentque domus fragrantibus herbis. Hoc tempore permissum est, ut verni temporis florentem suavitatem rythmis vel Anglico sermone contextis describant, pro ingenii captu, ita tamen ut aliquid Virgilii, Nasonis, Horatii, aut alien jus boni et praestantis poetse, de Latino exprimant. Johannes ante Portam Latinam multa secum adfert commoda. Etenim a prandio dormitur in schola pueris, donee iugrediatur censor aula; et anaguostes. Turn illi clamant, Surgite : illico surgitur ; ad horam tertiam itur ad merendam ; a coena post septimam luditur. Hujus diei celebritas non insulso etiam carmine prsedicatur, Porta Latina pilam, pulvinar, pocula proestat. 21 die beatissimae et felicis memoriae principi et regi Henrico Sexto justa persolvit. Datur singulis pueris Id. In die Ascensus Christi, militia; literarise vacatio datur ; cessant a studiis, relaxant animos, et qui studio efi'eruntur visendi parentes aut amicos, quorum beneficiis hie aluntur ad doctrinam, his facultas disccdendi couceditur, ea con- ditione, ut reversionem faciant ad festum Corporis Christi, quinetiam pridie ejus diei, OLD COXSUETUD1NARIUM. 79 English, among the students. Also, it will be observed, that great care was taken to teach the younger boys to write a good hand : a necessary rudiment of education that afterwards fell into desuetude nisi ad vesperam praesentes fuerint, verberantur. Qui vero diutius adhuc se absentes detinuerint a schola, hi collegii fructibus omnino privantvtr. Hie prseceptor priusquam exercitium suum dimiserit, pueria e ludo literario omnibus convocatis concionem habere solet, qua quemque admonet officii sui, ut melius ad bonos mores se componant, memores turpissimum esse se e literatissimorum hominum collegio redire inanes, dedecorantes et collegiis existimationem et magistri. Mense Junio. In festo Natalis D. Johannis, post matutinas preces, dum consuetudo floruit, accede- bant omnes scholastici ad rogum extructum in oriental! regione templi ubi reverenter a sumphoniacis cantatis tribus Antiphonis, et pueris in ordine stantibus, venitur ad merendam. In hac vigilia moris erat (quamdiu stetit) pueris ornare lectos variis rerum variarum picturis, et carmina de vita rebusque gestis Johannis Baptistse et Prae- cursoris componere, et pulchre exscripta affigere clinopodiis lectorum eruditis legenda. Hie luditur et dormitur mane ad sextam usque, quod fere hora nona est, antequam lectulos petunt. In festo D. Petri, idem mos observatur, qui supra. Mense Julio. Visitatio Marias majus duplex : luditur. In Translatione D. Thomas solebant rogum construere, sed nee ornare lectos, nee carmina componere, sed ludere, si placet praeceptori. Festum reliquiarum : luditur, verritur cubiculum. Hie septem hebdomadibus ante electionem in Regale Collegium Cantabrigiae inchoatur exhortatio literaria ^Etonae, et affiguntur portis chartae denunciantes liberum esse omnibus liberalis ingenii et egregiae indolis pueris, ad bonasque disciplinas percipiendas aptis et idoneis, ad Collegium ^Etonense accedendi, eorum judicium subeundi, qui id agent ut aptissimi quique ex omni Britannia in Collegium ^Etonense subrogentur. Electionis tempore per quinque dies luditur a prandio, si adferatur epomis cuculla philosophies, vel praapositi vel examinatorum, in aulam. In hebdomada electionis celebrantur exequias Roberti Reade, quibus interesse prae- positus Cantabrigiae et examinatores oportet. Mense Augusto. Assumptae Virginia et Matris festum est principale duplex. Vigilia verritur cubiculum ; luditur sub vespertinas preces, et toto die festo. Decollatio Sancti Johannis Baptistee merendam tollit et aufert, et promus a prandio rogat praeceptorem ludendi veniam puerorum nomine in totum diem. Posthac non luditur a septima. Mense Septemkri. Nativitas Mariana celebrabatur quondam, et cubiculum verrebatur. Hoc mense certo quodam die, si visum fuerit praeceptori, liberrima ludendi facultas pueris conceditur, et itur collectum Avellanas, quas domum, cum onusti reportaverint, veluti nobilis alicujus preedae portionem proeceptori, cujus auspiciis susceptum ilh'us diei iter ingressi sunt, impartiunt, turn vero communicant cum magistris. Priusquam vero nuceslegendi potestas permittitur, carmina pangunt, autumni pomiferi fertilitatem et fructuosam abundantiam pro virili describentes, quinetiam adventantis hyemis, durissimi anni temporis, letalia frigora, qua possunt lamentabili oratione deflent et persequuntur ; sic omnium rerum vicissitudinem jam a pueris addiscentes, turn nuces, ut in proverbio 80 OLD CONSUETUDINARIUM. at Eton, till properly revived by the present authorities a few years ago ; since which revival, as in the olden time, the younger boys " discunt scribere, qui nondum scite pingunt." The " Consuetudi- est, relinquunt, id est, omissis studiis ac nugis puerilibus ad graviora magisque seria convertuntur. Mense Octobri. In Translatione D. Edvardi vel diebus festis, scholam frequentare incipiunt ad quartam, donee auditur quinta in literis perseverantes. Hoc tempore ex Bibliis et sacris libris prsecipue inaudiunt aliquid, ut inde vitee sanctimoniam amare discant, con- traque mores perditos profligatosque et impia facta summopere detestari. Haec consuetude omnibus festis diebus durat ad Paschale tempus. Mense Novembri. Festum Omnium Sanctorum majus duplex. Verritur cubiculum et luditur. In die Animarum circiter septimam venitur ad templum a pueris in superpelliceis ad preces peragendas. Post prandium itur ad ludum literarium, et dicunt vicissim preces funebres spe posteritatis fructuque ducti vitee mortuorum, in memoria vivorum grata recordatione ponentes. Hsec fiunt presente prseceptore, qui jubet lectiones lugubres ordinari a pueris quibus ill! visum fuerit, et inde vulgaria confici carmina de exurrec- tionis gloria, de animarum beatitudine, et spe immortalitatis. Ad secundam vel tertiam horam itur ad ludendum. In die Sti. Hugonis pontificis solebat ^Etonse fieri electio Episcopi Nihilensis, sed consuetudo obsolevit. Olim episcopus ille puerorum habebatur nobilis, in cujus electione, et literata et laudatissima exercitatio, ad ingeniorum vires et motus excitandos, ^Etonse Celebris erat. Mense Decembri. Circiter festum D. Andrese ludimagister eligere solet pro suo arbitrio, scaenicas fabulas optimas et quam accommodatissimas, quas pueri feriis natalitiis subsequentibus non sine ludorum elegantia, populo spectante, publice aliquando peragant. Histrionum levis ars est, ad actionem tamen oratorum, et gestum motumque corporis decentem, tantopere facit, ut nihil magis. Interdum etiam exhibet Anglico sermone contextas fabulas, quse habeant acumen et leporem. In vigilia D. Thomse indicitur otium literarium et vacatio a publica praelectione in schola. Scribere discunt, et ea exercitatio scribendi ad Epiphanium Domini continuata permanet. Prseter haec discipuli inter se conferunt quotidie aliquid, aliquid interpretantur, atque hoc proprio Marte et privatim alter invitat ad epigrammata ; ille lacessit carminibus, nee deest qui prosa oratione laudandam invidiam ad virtutis imitationem excitet atque commoveat. Hsec omnia etsi propemodum nescio prseceptore fiant, etenim hoc tempus omne per- mittitur lusibus ; animadvertit tamen sedulo, ut intermisceantur ludi liberales, ludi literis digni, et non abhorrentes ab ipsis studiis, ut bonas horas, vel ipsis natalitiis, non male collocasse videantur. In die Natalis Domini luditur ; et statim a septima itur cubitum, quia surgendum erat quondam pueris, intra tertiam et quartam, ad preces matutinas. Omnibus feriis insequentibus luditur et ante et post coenam, in aula propter ignem. In diebus operariis natalitio tempore scribitur toto die in ludo literario, sed luditur singulis noctibus ex consuetudme, et pro arbitrio prseceptoris. OLD CONSUETUDINARIUM. 81 nariura " of the months is followed in the MS. by a description of the routine of a day as passed by the scholars on the foundation. That also will be found in the note ; and it throws valuable light Hord quintd. Unus ex cubiculi prsepositis (qui oranes quatuor sunt numero) cui hoc munus ilia hebdomada objecerit, Surgite, intonat. Illi omnes statim pariter consurgunt ; fundentes interim, dum se vestiunt, preces, quas suis vicibus unusquisque orditur, ac cseteri omnes alternis versibus subsequuntur. Finitis precibus lectos sternunt. Inde unusquisque quantum pulveris et sordium sub suo lecto est, in cubiculi medium profert, quern deinde variis cubiculi locis conspersum, quatuor ex omni numero, ad hoc a prseposito designati, in nnum acervum redigunt, exportantque. Tune omnes bini longo ordine lavatum manus descendunt. A lavando reversi scholam ingrediuntur, ac suum quisque locum capessit. Hord sexta. Ingreditur hypodidascalus, ac superior! scholse parte ttexis genibus preces orditur ; quibus finitis ad primam et infimam classem descendit, repetens ab his et orationis partem et verbum, quod prsecedente die dederat conjugandum. A prima ad secundam se convertit ; a secunda ad tertiam ; a tertia, si visum fuerit ; ad quartam, qute in illius parte sedit ad septimam, ibi si quid obscurius oriatur, examiuanda. Alter interim ex scholse prepositis, cuique ordini tarn in prseceptoris quam hypodidascali parte prsepositos adiens ab eis a matutinis precibus absentium nomina descripta aufert, hypodidascaloque tradit. Alius item prsepositus (qui solus semper hoc munus obit) singulorum manus et facies diligenter intuitus, si qui forte illotis manibus ad scholam accesserunt ; hos ille ingredienti ludimagistro statim offert. Hord septima. Ordo quartus ab hypodidascalo ad ludimagistri partem se confert. Ingreditur scholam ludimagister. Hinc omnes omnium ordinum prsepositi suos post septimam absentes tradunt ; ac unus etiam ex scholie prsepositis eorum nomina qui pridie post sextam et septimam vespertinam e schola abfuerant ludimagistro suos, hypodidascalo item suos tradit. Inde omnes ordines, quse sibi prselecta fuerant memoriter reddunt, eo ordine ut custos semper incipiat et cseteros recitantes auscultet. Hord octavd. Ludimagister suis sententiam aliquam quartse classi vertendam, quintee variandam, sextee et septimse versibus concludendam proponit ; cujus ab ore custos primus excipit, et primus vertit : hypodidascalus item tertise et secundse classi sententiam aliquam pro- ponit vertendam, et primse quoque, sed earn brevissimam. Vulgaria exhibita a singulis scribuntur eo mane, quse subsequenti die et ordinate et memoriter recitant. Hord nonrf. Aut circiter, primum superioris cujusque ordinis custos classis sibi,'proxime lectionom memoriter recitatet exponit ; deinde ludimagister suis, hypodidascalus item suis eadem prselegit. In diebus Lunge et Mercurii quatuor superiores ordines de proposito illis themate soluta oratione scribunt, ex secundo ordine tertio et primo sibi quisque sententiam pro- ponit ac vertit. In diebus Martis et Jovis superiores ordines themata sibi proposita carminibus con- cludunt. Reliqui duo soluta oratione eadem conscribunt. In diebus I. ume et Martis pruelegit ludimagister r4 Terentium. . J 5 Justimun Historicum. | 6 D f Csesaris Commentaria, Officia Ciceronis ; de Amicitia ; vel alios pro L7 I suo arbitrio. OLD CONSUETUDINAR1UM. on the disciplinal and educational system of the school, and on the extent of classical knowledge in England generally about the time of the accession of Queen Elizabeth. lisdem diebus prselegit hypodidascalus r3 Terentium. Ordini < 2 Terentium quoque. Ll Vivem. Ex quibus lectionibus pueri excerpunt flores phrases vel dicendi loquutiones ; item antitheta, epitheta, synonima, proverbia, similitudiiies, comparationes, historias, descrip- tiones temporis, loci, personarum, fabulas, dicteria, schemata et apophthegmata. In diebus Mercurii et Jovis prselegit ludimagister 4 Ovidium de Tristibus. 5 Ovidii Metamorphosen. lisdem diebus prselegit hypodidascalus 3 Selectas per Sturmium Ciceron. Epist. 2 Luciani Dialogos. 1 Ludovicum Vivem. Hora nona cum prselegerint, exeunt schola. Hord decimd. Scholse prsepositus ad preces consurgite exclamat. Illi vero ex utraque parte scholse erecte stantes, verba prseeuntem aliquem pro arbi- trio prsepositi designatum sequuntur. Hord undecimd. Inde bini omnes ordine longo iu aulam procedunt. Finite prandio eodem quo exibant modo ad scholam revertuntur. Hora duodecimd. Ingreditur hypodidascalus, atque ea quse ante prandium quartse classi prselegerat ludimagister ab eadem jam sua parte usque ad primam sedente reposcit, et singulas orationis partes discutit. Eidem primo ingredienti quatuor primorum ordinum prse- positi suorum absentium nomina exliibent. Hord primd. [et secundd.] Quarta classis in suam propriam sedem migrat ; jamque ingredienti magistro singu- lorum ordinum prsepositi suos tradunt absentes. Ludimagister quod spatii inter pri- mam et tertiam datur in quinto, sexto, septimoque ordine examinando insumit, et ex proposita lectione vulgaria ad linguae Latinse exercitationem condit ; ita tamen ut dimidia hora ante tertiam trium superiorum ordinum prsepositi sua et sociorum themata eidem tradunt, quse examinat diligenter. Hypodidascalus easdem horas in tribus suis ordinibus examinandis ponit. Hord tertla. Uterque exit. Hora quartd. Redit uterque. Quo tempore tantum reddunt ex his auctoribus quantum illis a prseceptore est con- stitutum, id rogante a magistro uno prseposito. OLD COXSUETUDINARH'M. 83 According to this old epitome of the duties of a day, the boys on the foundation rose at five, at the summons of one of the four praepositors of the chamber, who at that hour thundered out 4 Ex figuris in grammatica et carminum ratione. 5 Valerium Maximum, Lucium Florum vel Ciceronis Epistolas, Sysembrotum. go T r Grsecam grammaticam aut aliud pro arbitrio prseceptoris. Hypodidascalo suorum absentes exhibentur, item 3'" ordinis themata, ac 2 di etiam sententiae quas sibi quisque proposuerit, ac in sermonem Latinum verterit. Turn unusquisqne quantum sibi ex regulis praescriptum erat, memoriter dicit turn etiam vulgaria quo melius regulae grammatices intelligantur a pueris, conficiuntur ut inde Latinus sermo omni ratione familiarior sit. Hor& quintd. Eodem exeunt et revertuntur ordine quo ante prandium. Hord sexta. li qui ex supremo ordine ad cseteras classes instruendas a ludimagistro designati sunt suas provincias aggrediuntur, et fidei suae commissos in lectionibus exponendis et sententiis e sermone vernaculo in Latinum vertendis exercent. Item, dictata eodem die a prseceptore recitant. Singularum classium praepositi hoc muneris subeunt, ita ut scholar moderatores auimadvertant in omnes ad profectum in literis et morum compositionem. Hord septimd. Potum dimittuntur. Post septimam reversi eodem modo quo post sextam sese exercent, nisi certo quodam anni tempore, quo a coena luditur pro arbitrio prseceptoris et consuetudine. Hord octavd. Cubitum eunt preces fundentes. Die Veneris. Diebus vero Veneris post lectionem quam pridie habuerant recitatam, qui grave aliquod crimen commiserunt, accusantur. Correctiones vocant ; dant enim malefactorum dignas pcunas. Ante prandium prselegitur niliil. Hora prima pomeridiaua ingreditur uterque lectionis quas ilia hebdomada praele- gerant, reposcunt. Hora tertia egrediuntur. Quarta revertuutur, et quicquid eadem hebdomada inter quartam et quintain docuerunt, illis redditur. Ante 5""" pnelegit ludimagister 4 Apophthegmata aut Epigrammata Martialis, Catulli, aut Thomas Mori. 5 Horatium. 6 \ r Lucanum aut alium pro arbitrio. Inque diei sequentis horam septiraam matutinam proponit thema aliquod 6 to , et 7 versibus ; 5 vero soluta oratione variandum. Ac in hoi-am primam ejusdem diei pomeridianam ab iisdem rursus et 4 quoque ordine soluta oratione fusius explicandum. Ante 5 tam pnelegit hypodidascalus {3 ^Esopi Fabulas. 2 ^Esopi Fabulas. 1 Cat "i am. Ordini o 2 OLD CONSUETUDINARIUM. [intonat] " Surgite." The boys repeated a prayer, in alternate verses, as they dressed themselves, and then made their beds. Each boy swept the part of the chamber close to his bed, and the prsepositor chose four to collect the dirt into one heap and remove it. They then left the chamber and went in a row to wash, after which they repaired to the school. The under master entered the school at six, and read prayers. The prsepositors took down the names of those who were absent, and one prrepositor's special duty was to examine the students' faces and hands, and report any boys that came unwashed. At seven the head master entered the school, and the work of tuition began in earnest. The boys were at this period divided into seven forms. The first, second, and third were, as now, under the lower master, and the higher ones under the upper master, though the fourth form boys, during part of the school hours, passed over for a time into the province of the lower master. The boys dined at eleven, and seem to have supped at seven. These seem to have been the only two usual meals. Bed-time was eight o'clock. Great and assiduous attention was paid to Latin composition both in prose and verse, and the habit of conversing in Latin sedulously encou- raged. Friday seems to have been flogging-day. The lists of Die Sabbathi. Hora septima reddunt omnes ordines quse pridie praelecta fuerant. Ludimagistro traduntur variationes. Hypodidascalus quse pridie prselegerat cuncta examinat. Hora nona exit uterque. Hora prima scholam intrat uterque et quse ilia hebdomada dictaverant pueros recitantes audiunt. Traduntur item praeceptori themata. Hie si qui sunt ea hebdomada a preeceptore constituti ingenii exercendi gratia ficto themate proposito declamant, et alterius in alterum invehitur orationibus. Ante 7 am nemini ad naturae requisita conceditur exeundi potestas ; sed ne tune quidem pluribus quam tribus simul ; idque cum fuste, quern in hunc usum habent egredi eat permissum. Gustos in omnibus classibus is assignatur, qui vel Anglice loquitur, vel qui aliquam ex his quas dedicerat regulam integram exceptis tribus verbis interroganti recitare non potest, aut qui recte scribendi rationem negligens in orthographia 3 er peccaverit in suis chartaceis. Scholse ^Etonensis preepositores e pueris constituuntur 4 or . Aulse moderator unus. Terapli duo. Campi 4 or . Cubiculi 4 or . Oppidanorum duo. Immundanorum et sordidorum qui faciem et manus non lavant et se nimis sordide abjiciunt, unus. STUDIES IX 1560. 85 authors read in the various forms deserve notice. Besides some elementary treatises, the lower school boys read Terence, some select epistles of Cicero, Lucian's Dialogues (these must have been Latin translations), and ^Esop's Fables (no doubt also in Latin translations). The fourth form boys read Terence, the Tristia of Ovid, and the Apophthegms or Epigrams of Martial, Catullus, or Thomas More. The fifth form read Justin, Ovid's Metamorphoses, Valerius Maximus, Floras, Cicero's Letters, and Horace, Among the books read by the boys in the two highest forms are mentioned Caesar's Commentaries, Cicero De Officiis and De Amicitia, Virgil, Lucan, and the Greek Grammar. The circumstance of only the very highest boys using the Greek Grammar shows that the Lncian and JEsop mentioned in the lower school books must have been translations. And the whole catalogue of the school books shows that the Latin authors were copiously studied, but that Greek was almost unknown. Indeed we can ascertain from other sources that a knowledge of Greek was at this period a rare accomplish- ment even at our universities. The study of this language had however now commenced, and was rapidly prosecuted in England during Elizabeth's reign : and in a book published in 1586 it is stated that at Eton, Winchester, and Westminster boys were then " well entered in the knowledge of the Latin and Greek tongues and rules of versifying." 7 This old record is also valuable for showing the antiquity of one of the disciplinal principles of the school, which gives the upper boys authority over the lower, and makes them responsible for the maintenance of general good conduct. This principle is indeed coeval with the foundation of Eton ; for, as has been already stated, according to the original scheme of lodging the seventy scholars, it was required that a certain number of the elder and more trustworthy boys should be placed in each dormitory, and made responsible for the conduct of the rest. The old " Consue- tudinarium" continually refers to the functions of the " Praepositi," that is to say, of the boys set over the others. The Latin term is the original of our word " Provost," but, probably in order to avoid indecorous confusion between the designation of the head of the 7 Harrison's description of England prefixed to Holinshed. I take this quotation from Hallam, whose views as to the dissemination of Greek learning in England during the first half of Elizabeth's reign are strongly confirmed by this old Eton Consuetuilinariiim. SYSTEM OF SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. College and that of the youthful aiders of the executive, it has, when applied to the boys, been anglicised " Praepositor," or, as usually contracted, "Praepostor." Four praepositors in 1560 were appointed weekly from among the upper boys to keep order in school. One praepositor, as " Moderator Aulae," officiated at meal- times ; two aided in preserving decorum in church ; four had authority in the playing-fields, and four were the ruling powers of the dormitory. Probably many of these offices were filled by the same boys. All these seem to have been appointed out of the Collegers. But besides these there were two Oppidan praepositors, whose duties probably were more particularly connected with the students not on the foundation. And there was one more, a sort of youthful Master of the Ceremonies, whose particular function it was to keep a sharp look-out after dirty and slovenly lads. This system of carrying on the government of the school through the upper boys is general among our public schools, and I believe it to be one of their most valuable features, though it is one the most frequently attacked by those who are unacquainted, either through experience or inquiry, with the true working and full objects of public school education. To accustom lads early to the exercise of responsible power, under due superintendence and safeguards against its abuse, and to diffuse through a com- munity of young minds a respect for authorities that form part and parcel of that community itself, such respect being based on other feelings than mere dread of superior brute force, is, surely, to provide them with one of the very highest branches of educa- tion. For Education means far more than the mere imparting of knowledge ; it means also the development of the moral as well as the intellectual faculties. I dislike in general arguments drawn from etymologies, as being frequently little more than verbal quibbles ; but it would be well to remember in practice the true import of the word " Educo." It is not " to teach." " Educatio " and " Doctrina" are not synonymous. The word seems primarily applied to all that aids in rearing and maturing to full expansion and vigour the kindly fruits of the earth. When we apply it to the training of the Inner Man, we mean by it all that aids in expanding and maturing all holy and healthful faculties and powers. And that education is imperfect, which neglects the moral qualities and the faculty of discerning and managing the ASSISTANT MASTERS. 87 tempers and natures of others, which all must possess who would rule wisely and obey well. The increase in the numbers of the Oppidans during this century is proved by the occurrence in the " Alummi Etonenses " of the words " Assistant Masters at Eton/* in the short notices of some of the Kingsmen. The pupils were evidently too numerous for the Head and Lower Master to instruct without aid, and as the numbers of the boys increased, the staff of assistants was gradually strengthened. CHAPTER III. THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. Sir Henry Wotton Lord Essex Waller the Poet Provost Allestree Boyle Henry More Dr. Hammond Bishop Pearson Bishop Sherlock Sir Robert Walpole Lord Bolinghroke Sir William Wyndham Lord Townshend John Hales Bishops Barrow, Fleetwood, Hare, and Monck Rous Bard Mason Ascham Collins Mr. Pepys at Eton. SIR HENRY WOTTON. ETON has never seen within her walls a more accomplished gentleman, in the best sense of the word, or a more judicious ruler, than she received in 1624, when Sir Henry Wotton became her Provost. He was born in 1568, at Bocton Hall in Kent, the family mansion of his father, Sir Robert Wotton. He was the youngest of four sons, and as such was destined to receive but a moderate income from his father ; but he also received from him, what is far more valuable than all pecuniary endowments, an excellent education, worthy of the talents on which it was bestowed. His boyhood was passed at Winchester, and thence he removed, first, to New College and subsequently to Queen's College, Oxford. He was highly distinguished at Oxford for his proficiency in all academical studies ; while he, at the same time, made him- self a master of modern languages; and he also displayed, on several occasions, the elegance of his genius in the lighter depart- ments of literature. On his father's death, in 1589, he left England, and made the tour of France, Italy, Germany, and the Low Countries ; and on his return, in 1596, he was chosen as Secretary to Queen Elizabeth's favourite the Earl of Essex. On the fall of Essex, Wotton fearing to be implicated in the ruin of his patron, fled into France, whence he again went to Italy, and took up his abode at Florence. Soon after his arrival there, the Grand Duke of Tuscany having discovered, from some intercepted letters, a plot to poison James, King of Scotland, employed Wotton SIR HENRY WOTTON. 89 to go to Scotland secretly, and apprise that prince of his danger. Wotton assumed the name and guise of an Italian ; executed his commission with great skill, and returned to Florence after having left a strong impression on the Scottish King of his learning, zeal, and diplomatic ability. On James's accession to the English throne, he sent for Wotton to court, gave him the honour of knighthood, and after pronouncing a high eulogium on him, declared his intention thenceforth to employ him as an ambassador. Accordingly, during the greater part of James's reign, Sir Henry represented his sovereign abroad. His first mission was to Venice, where he formed a close intimacy with the celebrated Paolo Sarpi, and had peculiar advantages of watching the refinements and devices of Italian policy during the contest that was then being carried on between the Roman See and the Venetians ; in which the sagacious firmness of the most subtle of Aristocracies was pitted against the craft and intrigue of the Vatican. Wotton returned from Venice in 1610, when he suddenly found his favour at court unexpectedly clouded. This arose from the discovery of a sentence which he had written at Augsburg, in his outward journey to Venice. As we possess a biography of Sir Henry, from the pen of his friend Izaak Walton, it is best in this and other parts of Sir Henry's career to adopt the quaint but expressive language of the old king of the anglers. Walton says : " At his [Sir Henry's] first going Embassadour into Italy, as he passed through Germany, he stayed some days at Augusta, where having been in his former travels well known by many of the best note for learning and ingenuousnesse (those that are esteemed the vertuosi of that nation), with whom he passing an evening in merriment was requested by Christopher Flecamore to write some sentence in his Albo, (a book of white paper which for that purpose many of the German gentry usually carry about them), Sir Henry Wotton consenting to the motion, took an occasion, from some accidental discourse of the present com- pany, to write a pleasant definition of an Embassadour, in these very words : " Legatus est vir bonus peregrii missus ad mentiendum Reipublicse causa." Walton tries to represent this as an unlucky Latin translation i . , 90 SIR HENRY WOTTON. of an English pun. Walton says that Sir Henry " could have been content that his Latin could have been thus Englished " An Arabassadour is an honest man sent to LIE abroad for the good of his country. " But the word lie (being the hinge upon which the conceit was to turn) was not so expressed in Latin as would admit (in the hands of an enemy especially) so fair a construction as Sir Henry thought in English. Yet as it was, it slept quietly among other sentences in this albo almost eight years, till by accident it fell into the hands of Jasper Scioppius, a Romanist, a man with a restless spirit and a malicious pen, who in his books against King James prints this as a principle of that religion professed by the King and his Embassadour, Sir Henry Wotton, then at Venice ; and in Venice it was presently after written in several glass windows, and spitefully declared to be Sir Henry Wotton's. " This coming to the knowledge of King James, he apprehended it to be such an oversight, such a weakness or worse in Sir Henry Wotton, as caused the King to express much wrath against him ; and this caused Sir Henry Wotton to write two apologies, one to Velserus (one of the chiefs of Augusta) in the Universal language, which he caused to be printed and given and scattered in the most remarkable places both of Germany and Italy, as an antidote against the venemous book of Scioppius ; and another apology to King James, which were so ingenious, so clear, so choycely eloquent, that his Majesty (who was a pure judge of it) could not forbear at the receit of it to declare publickly, That Sir Henry Wotton had commuted sufficiently for a greater offence. " And now, as broken bones well set become stronger, so Sir Henry Wotton did not only recover but was much more confirmed in his Majestie's estimation and favour than formerly he had been." It has been truly remarked, that old Izaak must be mistaken in supposing that Sir Henry in this sentence only intended a poor English pun, and forgot that the Latin translation failed to convey his joke. Wotton, AVC may be sure, thought in Latin, when he wrote the words; and his jest was not without some sharp earnestness. Indeed, Sir Henry's opinion of the position of an Ambassador may be gathered from another anecdote which Walton relates of him. "A friend of Sir Henry Wotton' s, being desirous of the employment of an Embassadour came to Eton, and requested from SIR HENRY WOTTOtf. 91 him some experimental rules for his prudent and safe carriage in his negociations ; to \vhom he smilingly gave this for an infallible aphorism : " ' That to be in safety to himself and serviceable to his countrey, he should alwayes and on all occasions speak the truth. (It seems a State-paradox.) For, sayes Sir Henry Wotton, you shall never be believed ; and by this means your truth will secure yourself, if you shall ever be called to any account ; and 'twill also put your adversaries (who will still hunt counter) to a losse in all their disquisitions and undertakings/ " Wotton, indeed, seems to have thought that all travellers, though not diplomatists, required some degree of Machiavellian skill. Milton, when about to leave England for his travels in France and Italy, obtained an introduction to Sir Henry, and received from him, among other directions, the celebrated precept of prudence " Ipensieri stretti, ed il viso sciolto." After his first Venetian embassage, Wotton was employed by James in missions to the United Provinces, the Duke of Savoy, to the Emperor, and other German princes on the affairs of the unfortunate Elector Palatine. He was also twice again sent ambassador to Venice ; and his final return from " that pleasant country's land" was not till James' death in 1624. Wotton thus passed nearly twenty years as a diplomatist in foreign courts, during which, as well as during his former travels a.vQp Boyle's character among scientific men, after having been at one time somewhat exaggerated, has afterwards by the customary reaction been unfairly depreciated. In order to arrive at a right standard, I quite concur with the writer of the excellent article on him in Knight's Cyclopaedia, that "it will be a fair method to take a foreign history of physics (where national par- tiality is out of the question) and try the following point : What are those discoveries of the Briton of the seventeenth century which would be thought worthy of record by a Frenchman of the nine- teenth? In the Hist. Phil, du Pro g res de la Physique, Paris, 1810, by M. Libes, we find a chapter devoted to the ' Progres de la Physique entre les mains de Boyle/ and we are told that the air-pump in his hands became a new machine that such means in the hands of a man of genius multiply science, and that it is 186 ROBERT BOYLE. impossible to follow Boyle through his labours without being astonished at the immensity of his resources for tearing out the secrets of nature. The discovery of the propagation of sound by the air (the more creditable to Boyle that Otto von Guericke had been led astray as to the cause), of the absorbing power of the atmosphere, of the elastic force and combustive power of steam, the approximation to the weight of the air, the discovery of the reci- procal attraction of the electrified and non-electrified body, are mentioned as additions to the science. But there is a peculiar advantage consequent upon such a labourer as Boyle in the infancy of such a science as chemistry. Here are no observed facts of such common occurrence, and the phenomena of which are so dis- tinctly understood, that any theory receives something like assent or dissent as soon as it is proposed. The science of mechanics must have originally stood to chemistry much in the same rela- tion as the objects of botany to those of mineralogy ; the first presenting themselves, the second to be sought for. The mine was to be found as well as worked ; and every one who sunk a shaft diminished the labour of his successors by showing at least one place where it was not. In this point of view it is impossible to say to what degree of obligation chemistry is to limit its acknow- ledgments to Boyle. Searching every inlet which phenomena presented, trying the whole material world in detail, and with a disposition to prize an error prevented, as much as a truth discovered, it cannot be told how many were led to that which does exist, by the previous warning of Boyle as to that which does not. Perhaps had his genius been of a higher order he would have made fewer experiments and better deductions ; but as it was, he was admirably fitted for the task he undertook, and no one can say that his works, the eldest progeny of the ' Novum Organum/ were anything but a credit to the source from whence they sprung, or that their author is unworthy to occupy a high place in our Pantheon, though not precisely on the grounds taken in many biographies or popular treatises." (Life prefixed to Works. Biog. Brit. Bio- graphic Universelle. Knight's Cyclopcedia.} HENRY MORE. 137 HENRY MORE. COLERIDGE has said that every man is naturally either a Platonist or an Aristotelian. It is only to those who feel themselves included in the first branch of this classification, that I can look for participation in the earnest interest which I have felt in examining the life and writings of Henry More. He is a remark- able instance of the high and holy influences of the Platonic philosophy when combined with the Christian faith. He was not exempt from weaknesses, but his weaknesses serve to show more fully his sincerity, and to set him in a more amiable light. Many of his writings are too enthusiastic, and many of his speculations, too visionary, for most readers ; and his works are too voluminous for their full popularity ever to be revived at the present time. Yet I cannot but think that a collection of extracts from some of them, and a condensation of others, would form admirable treatises for general diffusion. Still more sure do I feel of the beneficial effects which a judicious selection of translated portions from Plato's own writings would produce, if such a book could be largely circulated in this our utilitarian and rationalising age. HENRY MORE was born at Grantham, in Lincolnshire, on the 12th of October, 1614. He was sent to Eton at the age of fourteen, and after being educated there for some years, he pro- ceeded to Christ's College, Cambridge, where, in the seclusion of a college life, he devoted his youth, his manhood, and old age, to intense study and undisturbed metaphysical speculation. We possess in the preface prefixed to More's first philosophical volume, a curious and valuable autobiography of his boyhood, and of the earlier portion of his youth. The candid history and frank self- anatomy of an individual human mind must be always an interesting document to the psychologist. Such is peculiarly the case where it is such a mind as More's, of which we are thus enabled to trace the development. It will be seen, from the portions of this narrative which I am about to quote, that More was trained up in the creed of ultra- Calvinism; that ghastly doctrine, of which none but a hard- hearted man can become a disciple, without feeling that " Qusesivit luceni coelo, ingemuitqoe reperta." 138 HENRY MOKE. It will be seen how More's gentle spirit strove against this creed, and how in the stages of theological distress through which his youthful mind passed, a fervent belief in the great truths of religion ever dwelt and moved within him, and preserved him from falling into the scepticism, into which too many have lapsed in the recoil of their hearts from the Calvinistic tenets. It is evident from this autobiography that More, like Coleridge, was a Platonist even before he had read Plato. Thus it is manifest that More, at the crisis of his religious state, was preserved in Theism by the influence of that great proof of God's existence and his attributes, which Plato so eloquently inculcates, namely, by the thought of him being innate in our minds, and by the very feeling of affinity to his nature which stirs within our souls. At the commencement of More's little narrative of himself (as translated from the author's Latin, by his friend and editor, Ward) he tells us that he wrote it " To the end that it may more fully appear that the things which I have written are not any borrowed or far-fetched opinions, owing unto education and the reading of books, but the proper sentiments of my own mind, drawn and derived from my most intimate nature, and that every human soul is no abrasa tabula, or mere blank sheet, but hath innate sensations and notions in it, both of good and evil, just and unjust, true and false, and those very strong and vivid. " Concerning which matter I am the more assured, in that the sensations of my own mind are so far from being owing to education, that they are directly contrary to it : I being bred up, to the almost fourteenth year of my age, under parents and a master that were great Calvinists (but withal very pious and good ones) ; at which time, by the order of my parents, persuaded to it by my uncle, I immediately went to Eton School, not to learn any new precepts or institutes of religion, but for the perfecting of the Greek and Latin tongue. But neither there nor yet anywhere else could I ever swallow down that hard doctrine concerning fate. On the contrary, I remember that upon those words of Epictetus, "Aye p.e, 3> Zfv, KOI &v ij ir^npi^vr], (Lead me, O Jupiter, and thou Fate,} I did (with my eldest brother, who then, as it happened, had accompanied my uncle thither) very stoutly, and earnestly for my years, dispute against this fate or Calvinistick predestination, as it is usually called ; and that my uncle, when he came to know HENRY MORE. 139 it, chid me severely, adding menaces withal of correction, and a rod for my immature forwardness in philosophising concerning such matters ; moreover that I had such a deep aversion in my temper to this opinion, and so firm and unshaken a persuasion of the Divine justice and goodness, that on a certain day, in a ground belonging to Eton College, where the boys used to play and exercise themselves, musing concerning these things with myself, and recalling to my mind this doctrine of Calvin, I did thus seriously and deliberately conclude within myself, viz. ( If I am one of those that are predestined unto hell, where all things are full of nothing but cursing and blasphemy, yet will I behave myself there patiently and submissively towards God, and if there be any one thing more than another that is acceptable to him, that will I set myself to do with a sincere heart and to the utmost of my power ; being certainly persuaded that if I thus demeaned myself, he would hardly keep me long in that place : which medi- tation of mine is as firmly fixed in my memory, and the very place where I stood, as if the thing had been transacted but a day or two ago. " And as to what concerns the existence of God : though in that ground mentioned, walking, as my manner was, slowly, and with my head on one side, and kicking now and then the stones with my feet, I was wont sometimes with a sort of musical and melancholick murmur to repeat, or rather humm to myself, those verses of Claudian : Ssepe mihi dubiam traxit sententia mentem, Curarent Superi terras ; an nullus inesset Rector, et incerto fluerent mortalia casu. [Oft hath my anxious mind divided stood, Whether the Gods did mind this lower world ; Or whether no such ruler (wise and good) We had ; and all things here by chance were hurled.] " Yet that exceeding hale and entire sense of God which Nature herself had planted deeply in me, very easily silenced all such slight and poetical dubitations as these. Yea, even in my first childhood an inward sense of the Divine presence was so strong upon my mind, that I did then believe there could no deed, word, or thought be hidden from him. Nor was I by any others that were older than myself, to be otherwise persuaded. Which thing since no distinct reason, philosophy, or instruction taught it me at 140 HENKY MOKE. that age, but only an internal sensation urged it upon me ; I think it is very evident that this was an innate sense or notion in me, contrary to some witless and sordid philosophasters of our present age. And if these cunning sophisters shall here reply that I drew this sense of mine ex traduce, or by way of propagation, as being born of parents exceeding pious and religious, I demand, how it came to pass, that I drew not Calvinism also in along with it ? For both my father and uncle, and so also my mother, were all earnest followers of Calvin. But these things I pass, since men atheistically disposed cannot so receive them, as I from an inward feeling speak them. " I go on therefore with my little narrative. Endued as I was with these principles, that is to say, a firm and unshaken belief of the existence of God, as also of his unspotted righteousness and perfect goodness, that he is a God infinitely good as \vell as infinitely great; (and what other would any person, that is not doltish or superstitious, ever admit of?) at the command of my uncle, to whose care my father had committed me, having spent about three years at Eton, I went to Cambridge, recommended to the care of a person both learned and pious, and, what I was not a little solicitous about, not at all a Calvinist, but a tutour most skilful and vigilant, who presently after the very first salutation and discourse with me, asked me, whether I had a discernment of things good and evil ? To which, answering in somewhat a low voice, I said, ' I hope I have.' When at the same time I was con- scious to myself that I had, from my very soul, a most strong sense and savoury discrimination as to all those matters. Not- withstanding, the meanwhile a mighty and almost immoderate thirst after knowledge possessed me throughout, especially for that which was natural, and, above all others, that which was said to dive into the deepest cause of things, and Aristotle calls the first and highest philosophy, or wisdom. " After which, when my prudent and pious tutour observed my mind to be inflamed and carried with so eager and vehement a career, he asked me on a certain time, why I was so above measure intent upon my studies, that is to say, for what end I was so ? Suspecting, as I suppose, that there was only at the bottom a certain itch or hunt after vain-glory; and to become, by this means, some famous philosopher amongst those of my own standing. But I answered briefly, and that from my very heart, HENRY MORE. - 141 ' That I may know/ ' But, young man, what is the reason/ saith he again, ' that you so earnestly desire to know things ? ' To which I instantly returned, ' I desire, I say, so earnestly to know, that I may know/ For even at that time the knowledge of natural and Divine things seemed to me the highest pleasure and felicity imaginable. " Thus then persuaded, and esteeming it what was highly fit, I immerse myself over head and ears in the study of philosophy, promising a most wonderful happiness to myself in it. Aristotle, therefore, Cardan, Julius Scaliger, and other philosophers of the greatest note, I very diligently peruse. In which the truth is, though I met here and there with some things wittily and acutely and sometimes also solidly spoken, yet the most seemed to me either so false or uncertain, or else so obvious and trivial, that I looked upon myself as having plainly lost my time in the reading of such authors. And to speak all in a word, those almost whole four years which I spent in studies of this kind, as to what con- cerned those matters which I chiefly desired to be satisfied about, (for as to the existence of a God, and the duties of morality, I never had the least doubt,) ended in nothing in a manner but mere scepticism. Which made me that, as my manner was, (for I was wont to set down the present state of my mind, or any sense of it that was warmer or deeper than ordinary, in some short notes, whether in verse or prose, and that also in English, Greek, or Latin,) it made me, I say, that as a perpetual record of the thing, I composed of eight verses, which is called 'Aropia, and is to be found inserted in the end of my second philosophical volume, viz. : OVK Zyvtov itoOfv dpi 6 bva-jj-opos, ovbe TIS (lp.i. &c. [To this purpose, as translated admirably by the author himself.] Nor whence, nor who I am, poor wretch, know I, Nor yet, madness ! whither I must goe ; But in Grief's crooked claws fast held I lie, And live, I think, by force tugged to and fro. Asleep or wake, all one/ O Father Jove, 'Tis brave we mortals live in clouds like thee. Lies, night-dreams, empty toys, fear, fatal love, This is my life : I nothing else do see. " And these things happened to me before that I had taken any degree in the university. 142 IIKNUY MOKE. " But after taking my degree, to pass over and omit abundance of things, I designing not here the draught of my own life, but only a brief introduction for the better understanding the occa- sion of writing my first book ; it fell out truly very happily for me that I suffered so great a disappointment in my studies. For it made me seriously at last begin to think with myself whether the knowledge of things was really that supreme felicity of man, or something greater and more divine was ; or, supposing it to be so, whether it was to be acquired by such an eagerness and intent- ness in the reading of authors, and contemplating of things, or by the purging of the mind from all sorts of vices whatsoever, especially having begun to read now the Platonick Writers, Marsilius Ficinus, Plotinus himself, Mercurius Trismegistus, and the Mystical Divines, among whom there was frequent mention made of the purification of the soul, and of the purgative course that is previous to the illuminative, as if the person that expected to have his mind illuminated of God, was to endeavour after the highest purity. " When this inordinate desire after the knowledge of things was thus allayed in me, and I aspired after nothing but this sole purity and simplicity of mind, there shone in upon me daily a greater assurance than ever I could have expected, even of those things which before I had the greatest desire to know, insomuch that within a few years I was got into a most joyous and lucid state of mind, and such plainly as is ineffable ; though, according to my custom, I have endeavoured to express it, to my power, in another stanza of eight verses, both in sense and title answering in a way of direct opposition unto the former, which is called (as that 'ATropfa, inviousness and emptiness, so this) Einropia, fulness and perviousness, and is to be found likewise at the end of my second philosophical volume, beginning thus : 'E/c deodev ye'yom TTpoOopuv Qfov aju/3poros d/ms, &c. [In the author's own translation as followeth : ] I come from Heaven ; am an immortal ray Of God ; joy ! and back to God shall goe ; And here sweet Love on 'a wings me up doth stay, I live, I 'm sure, and joy this life to know. Night and vain dreams begone ! Father of Lights, We live, as thou, clad with eternal day ; Faith, Wisdom, Love, fixed Joy, free-winged Might, This is true life ; all else death and decay." HENRY MORE. 143 In the year 1640 he commenced the composition of a mystical poem, entitled " The Song of the Soul." In it he has attempted an exposition of the nature, attributes, and states of the soul, according to that system of Christianized Platonism which he had adopted. It is divided into four parts : Psychozoia, or the Life of the Soul; Psychathanasia, or the Immortality of the Soul; Antipsychopannychia, or a Confutation of the Sleep of the Soul after Death ; and Antimonopsychia, or a Confutation of the Unity of Souls. Southey has observed that, " amidst the uncouth allegory, and still more uncouth language, of this strange series of poems, there are a few passages to be found of extreme beauty." More, in his dedication of his poems to his father, says that it was the hearing of " Spenser's Fairie Queen " read to him on winter-nights by his father, that " first turned his ears to poetry." But in truth, like his great master, Plato, he was far more poetical in his prose than in his verse. I have already quoted two of his minor poems in the extracts from his autobiography. The two following stanzas may serve as a favourable specimen of his Psychozoia : " Can wars and jars, and fierce contention, Swoln hatred, and consuming envy spring From piety ? No, 'tis Opinion That makes the riv'n heavens with trumpets ring, And thundering engine murderous balls outsling, And send men's groaning ghosts to lower shade Of horrid hell : this the wide world doth bring To devastation, makes mankind to fade. Such direful things doth false religion perswade. " But true religion, sprung from God above, Is like her fountain, full of charity, Embracing all things with a tender love ; Full of good will and meek expectancy ; Full of true justice, and sure verity In heart and voice ; free, large, even infinite ; Not wedg'd in strait particularity, But grasping all in her vast active spright : Bright lamp of God ! that men would joy in thy pure light." But how infinitely superior, both in imagination and expression, is the following passage, in which he is speaking of the felicity of the true Christian : " And even the more miserable objects in this present scene of things cannot divest him of his happiness, but rather modifie it ; 144 HENRY MOKE. the sweetness of his spirit being melted into a kindly compassion in the behalf of others : whom if he be able to help, it is a greater accession to his joy; and if he cannot, the being conscious to himself of so sincere a compassion, and so harmonious and suitable to the present state of things, carries along with it some degree of pleasure, like mournful notes of musick exquisitely well fitted to the sadness of the ditty. But this not unpleasant surprise of melancholy cannot last long : and this cool allay, this soft and moist element of sorrow, will be soon dried up, like the morning dew at the rising of the summer sun ; when but once the warm and cheerful gleams of that intellectual light that represents the glorious and comfortable comprehension of the divine Providence that runs through all things, shall dart into our souls the remem- brance, how infinitely scant the region of these more tragical spectacles is, compared with the rest of the universe ; and how short a time they last : for so the consideration of the happiness of the whole will swallow up this small pretence of discontent ; and the soul will be wholly overflowed with unexpressible joy and exultation; it being warmed and cheered with that joy which is the joy of God, that free and infinite Good, who knows the periods and issues of all things ; and whose pleasure is in good as such, and not in contracted selfishness, or in petty and sinister projects." Similarly beautiful, holy, and true are these sentences from another part of his works : " Behold therefore, O man, what thou art, and whereunto thou art called, even to be a mighty Prince amongst the creatures of God, and to bear rule in that province he hath assigned thee, to discern the motions of thine own heart, and to be lord over the suggestions of thine own natural spirit, not to listen to the counsels of the flesh, nor conspire with the serpent against thy Creator ; but to keep thy heart free and faithful to thy God : so may'st thou with innocency and unblameableness see all the motions of life, and bear rule with God over the whole creation committed to thee. This shall be thy paradise and harmless sport on earth, till God shall transplant thee to a higher condition of life in heaven." More was a sincere though tolerant member of the English Church, and always inculcated, both by precept and example, respect for and regular attendance at her ordinances and public rites. In the season of the Church's persecution after the civil DI!. HAMMOND. 145 war, More adhered firmly to her, and, as he himself expressed it, " by constantly denying ' the Covenant/ he exposed himself to the continual peril of being expelled from his Fellowship by the dominant Puritans." Such, however, was the general opinion of his blamelessness, his piety, and his benevolence, that he was suffered to remain unmolested. After the Restoration, great attempts were made to induce him to accept a bishopric. Two Irish and an English mitre were successively offered him, and declined. In the words of his friend and biographer Ward, " These things he refused not from any supercilious contempt, but from the pure love of contemplation and solitude, and because he thought that he could do the Church of God greater service, as also better enjoy his own proper happiness, in a private than in a public station, taking great satisfaction, the meanwhile, in the promotion of many pious and learned men to these places of trust and honour in the Church, (to whom he heartily congratu- lated such dignities,) and being exceeding sensible of the weight as well as the honour of them, and how necessary it was to have them filled with able and worthy persons." His numerous theological and philosophical treatises appeared at various times between 1640 and 1687 ; in which last-mentioned year he closed a life of earnest study, of sincere piety, of unblemished purity, and of active and self-denying charity. (Life, by Ward.} Among the eminent divines of the Church of England who were educated at Eton during the seventeenth century, three are parti- cularly illustrious: I mean Hammond, Pearson, and Sherlock. Eton may well be proud of such a triumvirate ; and though the last of the three was separated by a considerable interval from the two first, (who were almost contemporaries of each other,) I shall class their biographies together in this chapter. HENRY HAMMOND. THIS excellent man was born at Chertsey, on the 18th of August, His father, Dr. John Hammond, had been Professor of Greek at Cambridge, and was physician to James the First's eldest son Prince Henry, who was godfather to young Henry Hammond. Young Henry \vas sent to Eton at a very early age, and distin- guished himself there for his proficiency in learning. He was also i it; 1)1!. HAMMOND. noted there as a peaceable and tweet-tempered boy ; and it is recorded of him that he often, in play-hours, would leave the sports and busy throng of his schoolfellows, and retire to some lonely spot, for the purpose of prayer and reflection. On leaving Eton he was placed at Magdalen College, Oxford, where he was fortunate in the society of many friends of learning and piety, especially of the afterwards celebrated Jeremy Taylor. In December 1622 he took his B.A. degree, and that of M.A. in 1625, in which year he was made a Fellow of his college. He entered into holy orders in 1629, and remained at Oxford till 1633. It is said that during the whole period of his residence at the uni- versity, he devoted thirteen hours a-day to reading and meditation. Having attracted the admiration of the Earl of Leicester, by a sermon which that nobleman happened to hear, Mr. Hammond was presented by him with the rectory of Penshurst, in Kent. In the pleasing and instructive biography of Hammond, written by the Rev. Richard Hone, there is an interesting description of Hammond's life as a country clergyman, some portions of which I gladly transcribe : " Mr. Hammond was inducted into the living on the 22nd of August in the same year [1633], and at once took up his abode in the midst of his flock, where he devoted himself to the discharge of those duties of the pastoral care which the providence of God had assigned to him, and for which he felt that he must give account. In public and private he was diligent and earnest in his vocation, at the same time endeavouring so to order his own steps that the sheep might follow him safely. " Here he thought that the interests of religion would be pro- moted by assembling the congregation for prayer more frequently than was commonly done, and therefore either he or his curate performed public worship once every day at Penshurst church, besides twice on Saturday and Sunday, and on every holyday. In those days few of the poorer people could read, and therefore it was important for them not only to have such assistance in their devotions, but to enjoy frequent opportunities of hearing the Holy Scriptures, that they might become wise unto salvation. "As he preached constantly on Sunday morning, so in the afternoon he catechised the younger part of the congregation, employing about an hour before the time of prayer in that exercise. On these occasions he explained, in an easy and familiar way, the DR. HAMMOND. 117 doctrines and duties of the Christian religion, taking as his guide the Catechism of the Church of England ; and he thought that the parents and aged people, who generally attended to hear him, reaped even more benefit from the instructions then delivered, than from his sermons. He was always much interested about the spiritual welfare of the young; and being convinced of the importance of early training in the right way, he availed himself of these opportunities of setting before them the happiness of a reli- gious life, and the good effects of remembering their Creator in the days of their youth. And with a view to render his endeavours more effectual, he provided at his own cost an able schoolmaster, whom he maintained as long as he continued to be minister of the parish." The poor of Penshurst soon learned the advantage of having one placed amongst them who sympathised with their distresses, and was willing to relieve them. He dedicated to charitable purposes a stated weekly sum, in addition to a tenth of his income. He often purchased corn, to sell again to the people below the market price ; and was ready to lend little sums to those who had fallen into unforeseen calamity, permitting them to repay him by instal- ments. These acts of beneficence were his pleasures ; and he often declared them to be the sources of unmingled gratification, feeling the truth of the scriptural saying, that it is more blessed to give than to receive. " He saw fit to celebrate the communion once a month, thinking it right to approach nearer to the primitive frequency than was then usual in country places. And on these occasions his instructions and example recommended liberality so strongly, that the collections rendered it unnecessary to levy a poorVrate; nay, means were supplied for apprenticing the children of the indigent parishioners." Hammond took the degree of Doctor in Divinity in 1(539, and in 1643 he was made Archdeacon of the diocese of Chichester; but in that year the troubles of the country broke out into civil war, and Hammond was obliged to leave his beloved Penshurst. Some unsuccessful attempts had been made in behalf of the King, by the Royalists, near Tunbridge, in favour of which Dr. Hammond was believed to have used his influence; and a reward was offered by the Parliamentary Committee for his arrest. He escaped to Oxford, the head quarters of the Kinir, where he remained throughout the w:ir. H8 1)11. HAMMOND, " ' Procuring an apartment/ says Dr. Fell, ' in his own college, he sought that peace in his retirement and study which was nowhere else to be met withal ; taking no other diversion than what the giving instruction and encouragement to ingenious young students yielded him (a thing wherein he peculiarly delighted), and the satisfaction which he received from the con- versation of learned men, who, besides the usual store, in great number at that time for their security resorted thither/. " Some of his hours were now employed in preparing for the press his Practical Catechism. This work he had originally written to assist him in his parochial duties at Penshurst, and he was only induced to publish it by the persuasion of Dr. Potter, the Provost of Queen's College. Even then he withheld his name, and com- mitted all the care of conducting the work through the press to his friend; who took that opportunity of acknowledging in the preface, that he had received much benefit by the perusal of it, adding, ( I humbly beseech God that it may have the like energy in the breasts of all that shall read it, that we may have less talking, less writing, less fighting for religion, and more practice/ ' King Charles, who spoke of Hammond as the most natural orator he had ever heard, and who afterwards recommended Hammond's Practical Catechism to his own children in his last instructions, employed him as one of his Commissioners at the Conference at Uxbridge, in 1645, and in that same year made him his chaplain in ordinary. On the surrender of Oxford to the Parliamentarians, at the close of the war, Hammond remained there for some months, during which " he was also the generous helper of the friendless in those troublous times. After supplying his own small wants, he employed the rest of his means in warding off from others the day of indigence and misery ; and even when his resources were greatly contracted, he contrived by prudent management to reserve a considerable part of his income for purposes of charity. Poor scholars were particular objects of his beneficence ; and amongst those who shared his bounty was the eminent and learned Isaac Barrow, who many years after recorded his grateful recollections, in an excellent epitaph which he wrote on the death of his generous benefactor. "In order that the duties of his official situation might not prevent the prosecution of his studies, Dr. Hammond now usually gave up many hours of the night to literary pursuits, frequently DR. HAMMOND. 1 I!) not retiring to rest till three in the morning, and yet seldom failing to be present at prayers at five o'clock. " He was sometimes called away from the university to attend upon his royal master, who requested the presence of some of his chaplains whenever the ruling powers saw fit to allow him that privilege. But that was only at intervals. When the Scotch army delivered him into the hands of the English commissioners, he was placed in rigorous confinement at Holdenby, and cut off from all communication with his old servants, his chaplains, his friends, and his family. When the army got possession of the King's person, they took off this restraint, and we find that Dr. Hammond visited him at Woburn, Caversham, Hampton Court, and Carisbrook Castle. But at Christmas, 1647, access was again cut off." In 1648, Dr. Hammond was forcibly expelled from' the uni- versity by the parliamentary visitors, and was imprisoned for some months ; but towards the close of that year he was released, and then found a shelter for the remainder of his life at West wood Park, Worcestershire, the seat of Sir John Pack wood. In this retirement Hammond patiently devoted himself to his theological studies, to the earnest inculcation of Christian duties, and uphold- ing of the Christian faith in the family and neighbourhood where he dwelt, and to the alleviation of the wants of the suffering clergy of the Church of England, few of whom had found such a refuge as he was blest with, and few of whom met with equal toleration from the then ruling powers. " He principally devoted himself to the study of theology and Church history ; and some of the most pious, learned, and moderate works of the day were the fruits of his reading and reflection. If lie erred, it was not designedly, or for want of due meditation and prayer ; and when his opinions excited angry feelings or occasional intemperate language in others, he who had been careful to ' draw the teeth/ as he termed it (that is, to avoid giving just provocation to any person in his writings), rendered neither evil for evil, nor railing for railing. So greatly had he gained the mastery over his temper, that some persons who were his companions during the ten latter years of his life never heard him utter an intemperate expression ; and Dr. Fell observes, that several of his antagonists were led by the mild spirit in which he wrote, to regret the violence which disfigured their own productions." 150 DR. HAMMOND. He was peculiarly zealous in collecting contributions for the Episcopalian clergymen who had escaped to foreign lands, where they were almost destitute of the means for subsistence. " Some persons who unworthily enjoyed Hammond's confidence betrayed him to Cromwell : and fully expecting to be harshly treated, he made up his mind to speak plainly and boldly to that singular man, and to remonstrate with him upon his unjust severities. Whether the opportunity was afforded to him is not quite clear, but the issue was, that he received no injury at the hands of Cromwell, and experienced the truth of a favourite saying of his, that ' they who least considered hazard in doing their duties fared always the best/ And although it was not likely that he would escape so easily a second time, he did not hesitate to collect contributions with his wonted diligence for his afflicted brethren." Hammond was not spared to witness the restoration of the monarch, and of the triumph of the Church to which he had been so true in its adversity. He lived, however, long enough to be assured of the certain and speedy re-establishment of Church and State. The bishopric of Worcester was designed for him, and he had been invited to London to consult with several other eminent divines on the best measures to be pursued on the restoration of Episcopacy. But in the early part of 1660, his health rapidly declined, and he died on the 25th of April in that year, the very day on which the Parliament met for the purpose of recalling the King. " His death was, as Bishop Burnet remarks, ' an unspeakable loss to the Church ; for as he was a man of great learning and of most eminent merit, he having been the person that, during the bad times, had maintained the cause of the Church in a very singular manner, so he was a very moderate man in his temper, though with a high principle ; and probably he would have fallen into healing counsels/ " At the very close of life he left on record his desire, ' that no unseasonable stiffness of those that were in the right, no perverse obstinacy of those that were in the wrong, might hinder the closing of the wounds of the Church; but that all private and secular designs might be laid aside, all lawful concessions made, and the one great and common concernment of truth and peace unanimously and vigorously pursued/ '' The following are some of the most eminent of Dr. Hammond's BISHOP PEARSON. 151 works: "Practical Catechism," 1044; "Humble Address to the Right Hon. the Lord Fairfax and his Council of War," 1649, concerning the impending trial of Charles the First ; " Paraphrase and Annotations on the New Testament/' 1653 ; best edition, 1702. He began a similar paraphrase of the Old Testament, but advanced no farther than the Psalms, 1659, and one chapter of Proverbs. His works, in 4 vols. folio, were collected by his amanuensis Fulman, 1674-84. (Life by Hone in "Lives of Eminent Christians' 3 Life by Fell.} BISHOP PEARSON. THIS great expounder and upholder of our Creed was born in 1 1! 1 o at Snoring in Norfolk, of which his father was rector. He was educated on the foundation at Eton, and became a scholar at King's College, Cambridge, in 1632. He took holy orders in 1639, on the eve of the Civil "War. He was domestic chaplain to Lord Keeper Finch, who in 1640 presented him to the living of Torrington in Suffolk. He enjoyed this preferment but a short time, being ejected soon after the commencement of hostilities by the parliamentarian party, on account of his attachment to the royalist cause. In 1643 he was appointed minister of St. Clement's, Eastcheap, London; but, as his old biographer says, by whom doth not appear. Certain it is that he continued to preach there till the Restoration. I have myself endeavoured, without success, to trace out the means through which Pearson was appointed to this parish, his precise position there, or to what circumstance he was indebted for being so long unmolested by the dominant sectarians. It was to the inhabitants of St. Clement's that Pearson delivered the lectures on the Apostles' Creed, which he afterwards collected and published under the title of " An Exposition of the Creed." This justly celebrated work first appeared in 1658. It would be useless to write in praise of a treatise which for nearly two hundred years has been a text-book with the theological student, and has also been the favourite guide of the unlearned Christian laity of this country in all fundamental questions of faith. At the present time " Pearson on the Creed" is the regular manual for university divinity lecturers, and there is no book which so 152 I'KAHSON. generally forms part of the religious library (however scanty) of every Englishman in the upper or middle classes of society ; and (what is far more important) there is no religious book more often taken down from the shelf for serious consideration and family reading. The respect and popularity which this excellent treatise has so long and so widely obtained, are owing in a great extent to the strong good sense, and the skill in arrangement of his topics, which its author has exhibited. He tells us in his preface " In the pro- secution of the whole, I have considered, that a work of so general a concernment must be exposed to two kinds of readers, which, though they may agree in judgment, yet must differ much in their capacities. Some there are who understand the original languages of the Holy Scriptures, the discourses and tractates of the ancient fathers, the determinations of the councils, and history of the Church of God, the constant profession of settled truths, the rise and increase of schisms and heresies. Others there are unac- quainted with such conceptions, and incapable of such instructions ; who understand the Scriptures as they are translated ; who are capable of the knowledge of the truths themselves, and of the proofs drawn from thence ; who can apprehend the nature of the Christian faith, with the power and efficacy of the same when it is delivered unto them out of the word of God, and in a language which they know. When I make this difference and distinction of readers, I do not intend thereby, that because one of these is learned, the other is ignorant : for he which hath no skill of the learned languages may, notwithstanding, be very knowing in the principles of the Christian religion, and the reason and efficacy of them. " According to this distinction I have contrived my exposition, so that the body of it contaiueth fully what can be delivered and made intelligible in the English tongue, without inserting the least sentence or phrase of any learned language ; by which he who is not acquainted with it might be disturbed in his reading, or interrupted in his understanding. Not that I have selected only such notions as are common, easy, and familiar of themselves, but have endeavoured to deliver the most material conceptions in the most plain and perspicuous manner, as desirous to comprise the whole strength of the work, as far as it is possible, in the body of it. The other part I have placed in the margin (but so as oftentimes it taketh up more room, and yet is never mingled or BISHOP SHERLOCK. 153 confounded with the rest), in which is contained whatsoever is necessary for the illustration of any part of the Creed, as to them which have any knowledge of the Latin, Greek, and original languages, of the writings of the ancient fathers, the doctrines of the Jews, and the history of the Church, those great advantages towards a right conception of the Christian religion." On the Restoration, Pearson's eminent merits were rewarded with high preferment in the Church, and high station in his university. He became in succession Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity, and Master of Jesus College, Cambridge ; and he obtained the rectory of St. Christopher's, London, and a stall at Ely Cathedral. In 1662 he was made Master of Trinity in Cambridge ; and in 1673, on the death of Bishop Wilkins, he was raised to the see of Chester, over which diocese he continued to preside till his death in 1686. Pearson was one of the divines of the Church of England who were selected and appointed by Royal Commission in 1661 to meet an equal number of Nonconformist divines for the purpose of reviewing the Liturgy of the Church of England, and, if possible, removing all differences respecting it. Pearson took an active part in the Savoy conferences, which were held in consequence of this commission : and by the confession of Baxter, himself the ablest of the Presbyterian champions, Pearson was by far the first of the divines who represented the Church of England in that discussion, in learning, in judgment, and in powers of argument. Besides his great work on the Creed, Bishop Pearson is the author of a ' Vindication of the Epistles of St. Ignatius/ of f Dis- sertations on the rise and succession of the early Bishops of Rome,' and some other theological treatises. He also collected and pub- lished the literary remains of his friend John Hales, of Eton. ( lii.oy. Brit. Preface to Exposition of Creed.} BISHOP SHERLOCK. THOMAS SHERLOCK was the son of Dr. William Sherlock, Master of the Temple, and author of the still well-known ' Practical Dis- course concerning Death.' Thomas Sherlock was born at London, iu liuS lie was educated at lton, where he had Bolingbroke, 154 BISHOP SHERLOCK. Townshend, and Robert and Horace Walpole among his school- companioiis. With Townshend and the Walpoles Sherlock is said to have formed friendships at Eton, to which he owed much of the worldly good fortune which attended him through life. Sher- lock distinguished himself at Eton not only in scholarship but in every vigorous game. He was the best and boldest swimmer in the school ; and Warton, on the authority of Walpole, interprets Pope's expression ' the plunging prelate,' which is applied to Sher- lock in the Dunciad, as allusive to Sherlock's youthful renown for taking headers. In our days we have known a similar epithet good-humouredly applied for a similar reason to another excellent Etonian. May our modern e swimming bishop' meet with as much prosperity in his arduous career in England's colonies, as Sherlock met with at home. Sherlock entered Cambridge in 1693, where he was admitted at Catherine Hall, under the tuition of Dr. Long. His future great rival and contemporary, Hoadly, had entered this college one year before him ; and it is a curious fact noticed by Mr. Hughes, in his memoir prefixed to Valpy's edition of Sherlock's works, that the master, the tutor, the rival student, and himself were all destined to attain the episcopal bench. Sir W. Dawes, Master of Catherine, was made bishop of Chester in 1707; and Dr. Long, bishop of Norwich, in 1723. Sherlock, in the person of the future Bishop of Winchester, found a rival worthy of him, and one whose rivalry continued to stimulate him to renewed exertions long after they had both exchanged the academic arena for a wider and more im- portant field of combat. It is said that the two young men very soon discovered their destiny as rivals, and in consequence never regarded each other with feelings of peculiar complacency. One day, as they were returning together from their tutor's lecture on " Tally's Offices," Hoadly observed, " Well, Sherlock, you figured away finely to-day by help of Cockman !" " No, indeed !" re- plied Sherlock, " I did not ; for though I tried all I could to get a copy, I heard of only one ; and that you had secured." Sherlock was an excellent classic, but the bent of his mind was more to mathematics, to which he applied himself with the greatest ardour, and with great honour. He was also an earnest student of metaphysics. He took his degree with high distinction in 1097. In 1698 he was elected a Fellow of his college, and soon afterwards took holy orders. BISHOP SHERLOCK. 155 In 1704, Sherlock \vas appointed to succeed his father in the Mastership of the Temple. The sermons delivered by him in the Temple Church, which are published among his works, are justly considered to be some of the best specimens of pulpit oratory in the language. One of the " Quarterly Reviewers," in speaking of the various schools of preaching, says : " The calm and dispassionate disquisition on some text of Scripture, or the discussion of some theological question, hencefor- ward (after the Restoration) to be the exclusive object of an English sermon, was carried by Sherlock to a perfection rarely rivalled, unless by Smalridge, nearly his own contemporary, and by Horsley in more recent times. The question is clearly stated and limited, every objection anticipated, and the language is uniformly manly and vigorous. Sherlock indeed occasionally breaks out in passages of greater warmth and earnestness." The truth is, that he is always earnest, but seldom excited ; and this is what best befits the gravity of the pulpit. An enthusiastic preacher is almost always certain either to rush into rant or to sink into sentimentality, both of which are not only sins against good taste, but are by far more serious errors, on account of the disgust which they excite in the best educated and most intellectual part of the audience ; a disgust which is too apt to be extended to the place as well as to the preacher. In 1714, Sherlock was elected Master of Catherine Hall, and in 1715, he was made Dean of Carlisle. He came forward early in the celebrated Bangorian controversy, as Bishop Hoadly's most formidable opponent. He showed in this contest his own inde- pendence, and freely risked the loss of the favour which he enjoyed at Court to do what he considered his duty to the Church. He was removed from the list of King's chaplains in 1717 ; but his high reputation and the friendship of Walpole soon not only restored him, but raised him to much higher rank. In the controversies which arose at that period respecting the proofs of the divine origin of Christianity, Dr. Sherlock distin- guished himself by his valuable writings, particularly his "Use and Intent of Prophecy," and his " Trial of the Witnesses of the Resur- rection of Jesus," which is a masterly reply to the objections of those who reject the evidence of miracles, and particularly to those of Woolston. In 1727 he succeeded his old opponent Hoadly as Bishop of Baiigor, and was translated to Salisbury in 1734. His 156 I5ISIK)]' SHERLOCK. learning and eloquence gave him considerable weight in the debates of the House of Lords, and his reputation both as a divine and a ruler in the Church was so great that in 1747 the Arch- bishopric of Canterbury was offered to his acceptance, but declined by him on account of the state of his health. In the next year, however, he accepted the Bishopric of London. In 1750 he published his celebrated "Pastoral Letter to the Clergy and Inhabitants of London and Westminster on occasion of the late Earthquakes." Some severe shocks of an earthquake were felt in the region of the metropolis and other parts of England in that year, and the utmost consternation prevailed. Bishop Sher- lock's address was, in this excited state of public feeling, bought up and read with such eagerness that more than 100,000 copies were sold within a month. In 1759 Sherlock published an excel- lent charge to his clergy, in which he expatiates very forcibly on the evils of non-residence. Bishop Sherlock died at the advanced age of 84, on the 18th of July, 1761. (Life by Hughes. Cunning- ham's British Biography.} On approaching the close of the seventeenth century, we find the names of Eton statesmen increasing rapidly in number and in renown. Indeed, for the last hundred and fifty years Eton has supplied our Houses of Parliament with an unbroken succession of chiefs in the war of eloquence ; and for far the greater portion of those years she has supplied England with her Premiers. Lord Bolingbroke, Sir William Wyndham, Sir Robert Walpole, Lord Townshend, Lord Lyttelton, Lord Chatham, the elder Fox, Lord North, Charles James Fox, Mr. Wyndham, the Marquess of Wellesley, Lord Grenville, Canning, the Duke of Wellington, Lord Grey, and Lord Stanley are all Etonians. The names of other living statesmen, besides the great Duke's, might be added to this list ; but this work does not comprise the memoirs of the living; and long may it be before it will be possible for any writer to complete a biography of the hero-statesman whom I have named, or of the other distinguished political chiefs of the present time to whom I have referred. I pass to the consideration of the life and character of the greatest of our statesmen. SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 157 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. ROBERT WALPOLE (afterwards Sir Robert Walpole, and first Earl of Orford) was born at Houghton, in Norfolk, on. the 20th of August, 1G7G. His family was ancient, honourable, and opulent, and his father had signalised himself in his county by his zeal in promoting the Revolution of 1688. Fortunately for Sir Robert Walpole he was a third son ; for his natural easy disposition, and love of society and pleasure, would probably have fixed him in indolence and obscurity for life, if he had been brought up with the expectation of inheriting his father's estate. But the know- ledge that he was a younger son, and that he must look to his own exertions for his fortune, taught him the necessity of making early use of his abilities and opportunities, and his strong common sense must have soon shown him the practical value of application and regularity. After being for a short time at a private school at Massingham, he was placed at Eton on the foundation, where he was educated under the care of Mr. Newborough, the head master of the school, who seems early to have discerned and appreciated the solid merits of Walpole's mind, and is said to have taken peculiar pains in stimulating him to exertion. This judicious care, and the beneficial effects of the emulation which prevails in a public school, co-operated with Walpole's knowledge of the necessity for exertion which his prospects in the world required; and he acquired at Eton the deserved character of an excellent classical scholar. Horace was his favourite author, and continued so during his life, when his familiarity with other classics had long faded away. His talents for oratory must have shown them- selves very early, for Coxe records (and I have heard the anecdote confirmed from family tradition by Mr. Spencer Walpole, the present member for Midhurst,) that when Walpole and St. John were young members of the House of Commons, and the success of the latter there was reported to Newborough, under whom both had been educated, he replied, "But I am impatient to hear of Robert Walpole having spoken; for I am convinced that he will be a good orator." It is commonly stated that the rivalry between St. John and Walpole commenced while they were contemporaries at Eton. 158 SIR KOBKKT \V.\U>OLE. But this can hardly have been the case, as Walpole was two years older than the other ; a disparity of age which is nothing in man- hood, but which is enormous between two boys, so far as any trial of proficiency in their studies is concerned. No boy of fifteen expects or wishes to be measured by the same standard as his senior of seventeen ; nor does the latter feel any complacency in being acknowledged to be a riper scholar than one who is several forms below him. On the 22nd of April, 1696, Walpole was admitted a scholar of King's College, Cambridge. He only resided there two years, but he always remained sincerely attached to his college; and long afterwards, when he was Prime Minister, on a collection being made among old Kingsmen for the new building in the College, now known as GibVs Building, Walpole subscribed 500/., remark- ing that he deserved " no special thanks, as he was only paying for his board and lodging while a scholar/' Coxe relates that Walpole, " during his residence as a scholar at King's," was seized with the small-pox, which was of a most malig- nant sort, and he continued for some time in imminent danger. Dr. Brady, the famous historical advocate for the Tory principles of the English constitution, who was his physician, said to one of the fellows of King's College, warmly attached to the same party, " He must take care to save this young man, or we shall be accused of having purposely neglected him, because he is so violent a Whig." It was indeed principally owing to his kind and assi- duous attention that Walpole recovered. Notwithstanding Brady's political prejudices he was so much pleased with the spirit and dis- position of his young patient, that he observed with an affectionate attachment, " His singular escape seems to me a sure indication that he is reserved for important purposes." In the latter period of his life, when the prediction had been fulfilled, this anecdote was frequently related by Walpole with a complacency which showed that it had made a deep impression on his mind, and proved his satisfaction at the recollection of an event that seemed to anticipate his subsequent elevation." Coxe also says, "At college he formed a strict intimacy with Hare and Bland, who were members of the same foundation, and in every situation of life showed an affectionate regard for the friends of his early youth. He raised Hare, who afterwards ably distinguished him- self in defending the measures of the Whig administration, to the SIR ROBERT 159 Bishopric of Chichester, and promoted Bland to the Provostship of Eton College and Deanery of Durham." Walpole resided at Cambridge only two years, as on the death of the last of his elder brothers, in 1G9S, his father immediately withdrew him from the university, and endeavoured to make him devote all his thoughts to the management and improvement of the family estates. For about two years Walpole led a country life, the mornings devoted to field sports or agricultural pursuits, and the evenings to the Bacchanalian festivities which then were the general recreations of all hearty and hospitable English squires. His father's death, at the end of 1700, left him master of himself and of the paternal acres ; and his marriage with the daughter of a Lord Mayor of London enabled him to clear off all incumbrances on the property, and gave him a clear income of 2000/. a year. Though Walpole had acquired a keen relish for field sports and boisterous conviviality during his two years' rustication under the paternal auspices in Norfolk, he was not insensible to ambition ; and he must have felt conscious that he was fitted to shine in a higher sphere than the society of worthy men " whose talk is of bullocks/' and whose favourite arena for emulative striving is either the hunting field or the drinking room. Part of Walpole's inheritance consisted in borough influence ; and having resolved on entering public life, he caused himself to be elected member for Castle Rising in each of the two short parlia- ments that sate during the last two years of King William's reign. The pocket borough of King's Lynn also belonged to Walpole, and, when Queen Anne's first Parliament was sum- moned, he chose King's Lynn as his place to be returned for, and thenceforth represented that place until he became Earl of Orford. Thus possessed of considerable parliamentary influence, as well as of independent fortune, of good abilities, and of social and agreeable manners, Walpole was a welcome recruit to the Whigs, in whose ranks he instantly arrayed himself on entering Parlia- ment in 1701. His eloquence, his capacity for business, his reso- lute spirit, and his sound common sense, manifested themselves by degrees, and before long raised him to eminence among the chiefs of his party. His first attempt at speaking in the House is said to have been unsuccessful ; but acute observers could discern in Walpole, even amid the embarrassment and confusion of his early 160 SIR KOl'.KKT WAU'OU-;. efforts, the materials for a consummate orator ; and by judicious perseverance he recovered from his stumble at the threshold, and soon stood high in the favour of the House as a speaker. Coxe has preserved from contemporary authorities an account of Wai- pole's first appearance in the debates, when " he was confused and embarrassed, and did not seem to realise those expectations which his friends had fondly conceived." At the same time another member made a set speech which was much admired. At the end of the debate some persons casting ridicule on Walpole as an indifferent orator, and expressing their approbation of the maiden speech made by the other member, Arthur Mainwaring, who was present, observed in reply, " You may applaud the one and ridicule the other, but depend on it that the spruce gentleman who has made the set speech will never improve, and that Walpole will in time become an excellent speaker." The prediction of Mainwaring was soon verified. The fact that such statesmen as Godolphin and Maryborough took Walpole into their confidence, and employed him in import- ant offices during their ministry, is the best proof of the soundness of Walpole' s merit, as well as of its having been soon displayed. In 1705, Walpole was nominated one of the council to the Lord High Admiral of England, Prince George of Denmark. In 1708 he became Secretary of State of the War department; and in that capacity actively co-operated in organising the victories to which Marlborough was then leading our troops. In 1709, Walpole received the Treasurership of the Navy; and in 1710 he was appointed one of the parliamentary managers of the impolitic impeachment of Sacheverell, which had been resolved on by a majority of the ministers. Walpole's speech was the most admired of all those delivered on this trial; and it was marked with a cautious desire highly characteristic of the speaker to please Queen Anne, as well as by the force and clearness with which all available arguments against Sacheverell's doctrines were employed in it. I will quote a few sentences from the report of this speech, as preserved in Coxe's papers and in the State Trials. " I hope," said Walpole, " that your lordships' just judgment will convince the world that every seditious, discontented, hot-headed, ungifted, unedifying preacher (the Doctor will pardon me for borrowing one string of epithets from him, and for once using a SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 161 little of his own language), who has no hope of distinguishing himself in the world but by a matchless indiscretion, may not advance, with impunity, doctrines destructive of the peace and quiet of her Majesty's government and the Protestant succession, or prepare the minds of the people for an alteration, by giving them ill impressions of the present establishment and its administration. This doctrine of unlimited, unconditional, passive obedience was first invented to support arbitrary and despotic power, and was never promoted or countenanced by any government that had not designs, some time or other, of making use of it. What, then, can be the design of preaching this doctrine now, unasked, unsought for, in her Majesty's reign, when the law is the only ruling measure, both of the power of the Crown, and of the obedi- ence of the people ? " When the Godolphin ministry was dismissed by Queen Anne, or rather by Mrs. Masham, Harley, who was the chief of the new cabinet, endeavoured to win over Walpole to remain in office under him. But Walpole, unlike Harley, was true to his Whig principles, and soon received the honour of being selected, together with the Duke of Marlborough, for the revengeful attacks of the now prevailing Tories. A charge of corruption was brought against him for having received perquisites on some contracts for forage. A majority of a hostile House of Commons passed a resolution that Walpole was guilty of corruption, and that he should be committed prisoner to the Tower of London ; and by a subsequent vote he was expelled the House. Lord Mahon, in his " History of England after the Peace of Utrecht," well remarks that " It is quite certain, from the temper of Walpole's judges, that even the most evident innocence or the strongest testimonies would not have shielded him from condemnation ; and that, had he made no forage con- tracts at all, or made them in the spirit of an Aristides or a Pitt, he would have been expelled with equal readiness by that House of Commons, the same which did not blush to hurl an unworthy charge of peculation against Marlborough." This persecution gave Walpole the dignity and notoriety of a political martyr. At the end of the session he was released from the Tower, and on the dissolution in the following year he was re-elected for King's Lynn, and re-appeared in the House of Commons. He now assumed a more prominent position as a Whig leader, and assailed the Tories with an exasperated energy, 162 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. of which he had previously given little signs. On the accession of George the First, he was justly recognised as one of the most valuable supporters of the Hanoverian dynasty, and took his place among the new Whig ministers as Paymaster of the Forces, Treasurer of Chelsea Hospital, and a Privy Councillor. For three years he was the most active member of Stanhope's cabinet, but in 1717 he became involved in the dissensions between his brother-in-law Lord Townshend and the Premier, and on Lord Townshend's dismissal from office Walpole resigned, and went for a time into factiously violent opposition against his late colleagues. For one part, however, of Walpole's conduct during this period, he deserves the gratitude of every admirer of the constitution of England : this is his resolute and eloquent opposition to Lord Sunderland's and Lord Stanhope's Peerage Bill, which, had it not been for Walpole, would undoubtedly have passed into a law of the land. The projectors of this specious measure had taken advantage of George the First's dislike to his son, to prevail on him to consent to stripping the Crown of the important privilege of making peers. The Bill provided that only six more English peers should be added to the present number, though there might be a new creation whenever a peerage became extinct ; and instead of the sixteen elective representatives of the Scotch nobility, the King was to nominate twenty-five hereditary peers out of the members of that body. It was vaunted that this measure would secure the independence of the House of Lords, and prevent the Crown from controlling its deliberations by creating batches of new peers to gain a majority for the ministers on any particular measure, as had been done when Queen Anne's Tory ministry sent their twelve new peers into the House to outvote the Whig lords. We, who have seen the political movements of 1832 and 1848, can instantly see how fatal such a measure would have been to the existence of the Upper House of our Parliament : how certainly the narrow and exclusive oligarchy, which Sunderland's Bill would have created, must have fallen before the fierce attacks of modern democracy. It is Walpole's glory to have foreseen, and to have prevented, the destructive consequences to the authority and stability of the House of Lords, which would have followed the temporary aggrandizement of the individual peers of that genera- tion. Those M!IO have, like the writer of these memoirs, learned SIR ROBERT WALFOLE. 163 by long and earnest study of our constitution to look on our House of Lords as a blessing to the country, are bound to revere the memory of Walpole, who saved it from itself in 1719. The Peerage Bill passed rapidly through the Upper House ; and, had it not been for Walpole, it would have passed with equal ease through the Commons. The Whigs in opposition to the Court either favoured the Bill, or despaired of making effectual resistance to it. But Walpole had both the sagacity to discern and the resolution to combat the evil. At a meeting of the chiefs of the opposition, when nearly all present were disposed to let the Bill pass without debate or division, Walpole keenly exposed both the mischievous nature of the measure, and the cowardice of giving way when the feelings of the country gentlemen and middle classes might be so strongly roused to back the opposition against it. " For my part," declared Walpole, " I am determined that, if deserted by my party on this question, I will singly stand forth and oppose it." Gradually, and not without altercation, Walpole won his friends over to his opinion, and it was agreed that when the Bill came down to the Commons, they should fight to the last against it with Walpole for their general and their champion. The debate came on on the 8th of December, nor does Lord Mahon, to my mind, exaggerate when he says, that during that debate "the fate of the British constitution seemed to hang suspended in the balance." Walpole' s was the great speech of the night. He told the House that " Among the Romans, the temple of Fame was placed behind the temple of Virtue, to denote that there was no coming to the temple of Fame but through that of Virtue. But if this Bill is passed into a law, one of the most powerful incentives to virtue would be taken away, since there would be no arriving at honour but through the winding-sheet of an old decrepit lord or the grave of an extinct noble family." After more rhetoric and some Latin quotations, Walpole con- tinued, more in his own natural style : " Had this Bill originated with some noble peer of distinguished ancestry, it would have excited less surprise ; a desire to exclude others from a partici- pation of honours is no novelty in persons in that class : Quod ex aliorum mentis sibi arrogant, id tnihi ex meis ascribi nolunt. " But it is matter of just surprise that a Bill of this nature should either have been projected, or at least promoted, by a 164 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. gentleman who was not long ago seated amongst us, and who, having got into the House of Peers, is now desirous to shut the door after him. When great alterations in the constitution are to be made, the experiment should be tried for a short time before the proposed change is finally carried into execution, lest it should produce evil instead of good; but in this case, when the Bill is once sanctioned by Parliament, there can be no future hopes of redress, because the Upper House will always oppose the repeal of an Act which has so considerably increased their power. " The great unanimity with which this Bill has passed the Lords ought to inspire some jealousy in the Commons ; for it must be obvious that whatever the Lords gain must be acquired at the loss of the Commons and the diminution of the regal prerogative ; and that in all disputes between the Lords and Commons, when the House of Lords is immutable, the Commons must, sooner or later, be obliged to recede. The view of the ministry in forcing the Bill is plainly nothing but to secure their power in the House of Lords. The principal argument on which the necessity of it is founded is drawn from the mischief occasioned by the creation of twelve Peers during the reign of Queen Anne, for the purpose of carrying an infamous peace through the House of Lords : that was only a temporary measure, whereas the mischief to be occasioned by this Bill will be perpetual. It creates thirty-one Peers by authority of Parliament : so extraordinary a step cannot be supposed to be taken without some sinister design in future. The ministry want no additional strength in the House of Lords for conducting the common affairs of government, as is sufficiently proved by the unanimity with which they have carried through this Bill. If, therefore, they think it necessary to acquire additional strength, it must be done with views and intentions more extravagant and hostile to the constitution than any which have yet been attempted. The Bill itself is of a most insidious and artful nature." He alluded to the known enmity which existed between the King and the heir to the throne in a delicate but in a very striking manner ; and then he spoke with equal art of the personal character of George, and of the seeming surrender of one of the most important of his prerogatives the faculty of making Peers. " We are told," said he, "that his Majesty has voluntarily consented to this limit- ation of his prerogative. It may be true ; but may not the King have been deceived ? which, if it is ever to be supposed, must be SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 165 admitted in this case The character of the King furnishes us also with a strong proof that he has been deceived ; for although it is a fact that in Hanover, where he possesses abso- lute power, he never tyrannised over his subjects, or despotically exercised his authority, yet can one instance be produced of his ever giving up a prerogative ? " Walpole then assailed the Scotch clauses of the Bill, declaring that nothing could be more unfair than that particular clause which assigned to twenty-five Scottish Peers hereditary seats in lieu of the sixteen elective ones, that the Bill was a violation of the Act of Union, and would endanger the entire dissolution of it by the high offence it would give to the great body of the Scottish Peerage, in thus excluding them and their posterity from all possibility of taking their seats as British Peers. He said, " The sixteen elective Scotch Peers already admit them- selves to be a dead Court weight; yet the same sixteen are now to be made hereditary, and nine added to their number. These twenty-five, under the influence of corrupt ministers, might find their account in betraying their trust." After declaring that the Bill would make the Lords masters of the King, and shut the door of honour against the rest of the nation, Walpole said, " How can their Lordships expect the Commons to give their concur- rence ? How would they themselves receive a Bill which should prevent a Baron from being made a Viscount, a Viscount an Earl, an Earl a Marquis, and a Marquis a Duke ? Would they consent to limit the number of any rank of Peerage ? Certainly none ; unless, perhaps, the Dukes. If the pretence for this measure is, that it will tend to secure the freedom of Parliament, I say that there are many other steps more important and less equivocal, such as the discontinuance of bribes and pensions. That this Bill will secure the liberty of Parliament I totally deny : it will secure a great preponderance of Peers ; it will form them into a compact impenetrable phalanx, by giving them power to exclude, in all cases of extinction and creation, all such persons from their body as may be obnoxious to them." " In this strain," says Speaker Onslow, " he bore all before him;" and the Bill was rejected by 269 votes to 177. Walpole also creditably distinguished himself by his opposition to the South Sea project : and when that bubble broke, and a season of distress and panic succeeded, as usual, to the season of factitious prosperity and fanatical speculation, Walpole was the 166 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. statesman and the financier in whom alone the nation felt any confidence, and to whom the nation looked to extricate our affairs from ruin, and restore both public and private credit. Walpole had rejoined the ministry in 1720, and he now in the next, which was long known as the South Sea year, checked by the sagacity of his financial, and the wise moderation of his other measures, the confusion and disaffection which had been fast spread- ing through the country. In Lord Mahon's eloquent words, " It should never be forgotten, to the honour of Walpole, that he stepped forward at a most perilous and perplexing crisis, and that it was he who stood between the people and bankruptcy, between the King and sedition." Walpole now became First Lord of the Treasury. The deaths of Stanhope and Sunderland left him undisputed chief of the govern- ment ; and a large Whig majority in each House of Parliament made his government a strong one. For twenty years he main- tained his high position; for the few days that followed the death of George the First can hardly be considered an exception, nor can such a mere Interrex as Sir Spencer Compton be said to have ever been Premier of England. For twenty years Walpole disposed of " Imperium, fasces, legiones, omnia " in the British empire, and exercised more influence than any other individual, crowned or subject, over the politics and destinies of the whole civilised world. His biography would be a history of Europe. I can here only indicate the principal objects and the leading characteristics of his government. His great aims were the preservation of peace, and the securing of the Protestant succession. For sixteen years he succeeded in the first, though he at last gave way to royal zeal and popular clamour, in favour of a foolish Spanish war. That he succeeded in the second great object of his policy, the high testimony of Burke is decisive authority. Burke has said of Sir Robert Walpole : " The pru- dence, steadiness, and vigilance of that man, joined to the greatest possible lenity in his character and his politics, preserved the crown to this royal family, and with it, their laws and liberties to this country." We must remember, also, under what difficulties Walpole had to struggle in working out his wisest plans. Guizot 5 truly 5 Discourse on the History of tlie English Revolution. SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 167 remarks, that, under George the First and George the Second, "the revolutionary and dynastic questions were not wholly extinct : the English nation had no affection for German princes who did not speak their language and did not like their habits ; who eagerly seized on any pretext to quit the country, and to visit their small hereditary state ; and who continually sought to involve them in continental quarrels, to which the English attached no importance and no interest." He also truly adds, that " the domestic quarrels, and the coarse licentiousness of the royal family, offended the country." Walpole was obliged to maintain these rulers on our throne, or to see that wretched bigot, the Pretender, whom his own adherents owned to be destitute of every generous feeling and every enlightened principle, 6 installed over the English nation ; to see England made the vassal of Rome and the satellite of France, and the host of abuses revived, which are synonymous with the name of Stuart. Walpole felt that his own government was the great barrier between the English constitution and the Stuarts. This made him cling to office, and this is his justification for having done so. He truly warned his adherents, when exhort- ing them to stand firm at a great political crisis/ what conse- quences would follow a ministerial defeat. " Should our Jacobite adversaries," said he, " find themselves at the helm here, does anybody that hears me want to be told what must become of the Whig cause, party, and principles ? what must become of all the Revolution measures that have been pursued with so much steadi- ness and maintained with so much glory for above forty years ? what must become of this Government and this Family, and the true freedom, welfare, and prosperity of this country ? " Besides the Jacobite party, which both at home and abroad was numerous, active, able, and unscrupulous, Walpole had to con- tend with a continually increasing body of Whig malcontents, whom the celebrated Pulteney marshalled against him. They at last drove the veteran statesman from his post. It is deeply discreditable to Walpole's contemporaries, that the very measures and parts of his policy, the merits of which are now most clearly acknowledged, were most successfully assailed, and were made the most effective means of undermining his popularity. Such is the case with his excise scheme, which was founded on the soundest 6 See Bolingbroke's account of him in the Letter to Sir William Wyndham. 7 See his speech in Lord Hervey's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 215, et seq. His sli; ROBERT WALPOLE. principles of taxation, and which shows Walpole, as a political economist, to have been far in advance of his age. Such is the case with his project for improving the Irish coinage, which Swift assailed in the Drapier's Letters with all his marvellous powers of style, and with all his still more marvellous powers of lying. Such, above all, was the case with Walpole's pacific policy, against which Jacobite, Tory, and the self-termed Patriot party united all their powers of invective and all their stores of lampoon. It must not, however, be disguised that other causes con- tributed to sap Walpole's authority. One was the wide-spread belief in the corrupt nature of his policy; and another was his neglect to enlist the able speakers and writers of his time on his side, or even to propitiate them by favour and patronage. That Walpole's own contemporaries looked on his system of government as based on bribery and corruption, to an extent far exceeding what had been the case with former ministries, abundant proofs might be cited ; but one decisive testimony is enough, and this may be found in the well-known lines of Pope, in which he praises the winning manners and good humour of the great minister : " Seen him I have, but in his happier hour Of social pleasure, ill-exchanged for power : Seen him uncurnbered with the venal tribe, Smile without art, and win without a bribe. Would he oblige me ? Let me only find He does not think me what he thinks mankind." This belief in the corruptness of Walpole's government has increased with time ; and among common-place authors, " corrum- pere et corrumpi Walpole vocatur." But of late years the great minister of the Hanoverian succession has been judged more wisely and more favourably. Lord Brougham among Whig writers, and Lord Mahon among Tory writers, may be cited, as two eminent historical inquirers, who have exposed the injustice and exaggera- tion of the charges that have so long and so unsparingly been heaped upon Walpole. They both refer to the utter failure of his enemies to substantiate their imputations against him. " A far more rigorous test was applied to his conduct than any other minister ever underwent. His whole proceedings were unsparingly attacked, towards the close of his reign, by a motion personally directed against him, supported by the most acrimonious zeal, and preceded by the minutest inquiry into all his weak points. In SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 169 the House, when he was present to meet the charge of corruption, none was made. After he had ceased to rule, a select committee was appointed to inquire into his public conduct during the last ten years ; and out of its twenty- one members, that committee comprised no less than nineteen of his bitterest enemies; the minister then stood forsaken and alone there was no Court favour at his back no patronage or lucre in his hands much popularity to gain, and no danger to run by assailing him. Yet even under such favourable circumstances, what did this ten years' siege upon his character, this political Troy, really bring forth ? What facts does the report allege in support of its avowed hostility ? An attempt upon the virtue of the Mayor of Weymouth : the promise of a place in the revenue to a returning officer : the atrocity of dismissing some excise officers who had voted against the govern, ment candidate : vague surmises from the amount of secret service money. Now if Walpole had in real truth been the corrupter of his age if he had prostituted public honours or public rewards in the cause of corruption if fraudulent contracts, undue influence at elections, and bribed members of Parliament were matters of every-day occurrence ; if, in short, only one-tenth part of the outcry against Walpole was well founded, how is it possible that powerful and rancorous opponents should be able to find only so few, imperfect, and meagre proofs to hurl against him ? No defence on the part of Walpole's friends is half so strong and convincing as this failure of his enemies." Whence then, it may be asked, originated this belief, which certainly did exist, that Walpole was the great patron of parlia- mentary corruption ? In the first place, there was a lamentable amount of corruption among the public men of that age, as there had been among the public men of many preceding ages. The national tone of state morality was by no means high. And though it is unjust to say that Walpole was below the average standard of the time, it would be absurd to say that he stood in pre-eminent purity above it. There was some corruption in his government, as there was in every government from the Restora- tion down to the first ministry of the elder Pitt. Thus there was a substratum of truth on which Wyndham, Bolingbroke, and Walpole's other numerous foes might plant their engines, and their eloquent hatred could soon create the necessary superstruc- ture of calumny. In the second place, Walpole himself undoubtedly 170 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. contributed to foment the popular prejudice against himself by the scoffing careless tone in which he was wont to treat all pretensions to purity and disinterested patriotism. He must indeed, during his long tenure of high office, have seen instances innumerable of sordid rapacity and hypocritical meanness, both among the politicians who fawned around him, and those who bayed against him. But to generalise the vices of individuals as human attributes, to ignore the existence of honesty or honour among mankind, is as unwise and unjust in thought, as it is impolitic in avowal. Walpole suffered for his sarcasms, and, so far, he suffered deservedly. But, in pointing this out, we must at the same time, in justice to Walpole, point out that his low estimate of human virtue did not make him the cold-blooded selfish misanthrope which the veteran statesman too often becomes. If he too often spoke, he never acted in the Mephistopheles' vein. He was to the last in his friendships unchanging, frank, and sincere : he was warm of heart and liberal of hand : and when we trace the strifes and progress of party in English history, we find under Walpole a marked change in the treatment pursued by triumphant leaders towards their adversaries. " The system under which contending statesmen used to raise up rival scaffolds, and hunt down one another even to the death, ended during his administration." And it is to be remembered that Walpole, by the accurate and universal intelligence which he constantly secured respecting Jacobite intrigue either at home or abroad, had for years the lives of many of his most vehement enemies in his hands. Walpole' s oratory was like his mind, manly, vigorous, and prac- tical. He despised all declamation, and all the little tricks, which even great geniuses sometimes stoop to, for the sake of producing stage effect in the senate. He spoke to win, and not to shine. Some extracts of his speeches have been given in the preceding pages of this memoir, and among the other meagre remnants of his oratory the reports of his speech against the repeal of the Sep- tennial Bill, his description of Bolingbroke in the debate of 1739, and his defence of his own administration in 1741, particu- larly deserve perusal. The memoirs of Lord Hervey which have been published during the last few years, besides throwing much incidental light on the conduct of Walpole and his contemporaries, contain a character of SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 171 Sir Robert, so ably and elaborately drawn that I shall gladly transfer it to these pages. Be it remembered that Lord Hervey was Walpole's intimate associate and colleague, had acted with and under him for years, and had the best possible means of forming a correct opinion of his merit. Nor must this sketch be looked on as the partial production of a partisan, for Lord Hervey shows abundantly in the course of his memoirs that he was in no slight degree jealous of Walpole's ascendancy ; and there is no ground for suspecting him of having wilfully exaggerated any of the good or disguised any of the bad qualities of the chief by whom he was overshadowed. Walpole's coarseness in manners, and proneness to pleasures of a lower order, are perhaps scarcely marked enough by Hervey ; but we must remember that these blemishes were the common blemishes of the age, and that Walpole was not more gross, though he may have been more frank, than the great majority of his contemporaries. Lord Hervey thus describes our great Eton Premier : " He had a strength of parts equal to any advancement, a spirit to struggle with any difficulties, a steadiness of temper immoveable by any disappointments. He had great skill in figures, the nature of funds, and the revenue. His first application was to this branch of knowledge ; but as he afterwards rose to the highest posts of power, and continued longer there than any first minister in this country since Lord Burleigh ever did, he grew, of course, conversant with all the other parts of government, and very soon equally able in transacting them. The weight of the whole administration lay on him : every project was of his forming, conducting, and executing. From the time of making the Treaty of Hanover, all the foreign as well as domestic affairs passed through his hands ; and, considering the little assistance he received from subalterns, it is incredible what a variety and quantity of business he despatched ; but as he had infinite application and long expe- rience, so he had great method and a prodigious memory, with a mind and spirit that were indefatigable : and without every one of these natural as well as acquired advantages it would indeed have been impossible for him to go through half what he undertook. No man ever was blessed with a clearer head, a truer or quicker judgment, or a deeper insight into mankind ; he knew the strength and weakness of everybody he had to deal with, and how to make his advantage of both; he had more warmth of 172 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. affection and friendship for some particular people than one could li;nc believed it possible for any one who had been so long raking in the dirt of mankind to be capable of feeling for so worthless a species of animals. One should naturally have imagined that the contempt and distrust he must have had for the species in gross, would have given him at least an indifference and distrust towards every particular. Whether his negligence of his enemies, and never stretching his power to gratify his resentment of the sharpest injury, was policy or constitution, I shall not determine : but I do not believe anybody who knows these times will deny that no minister ever was more outraged, or less apparently revengeful. Some of 'his friends, who were not unforgiving themselves, nor very apt to see imaginary faults in him, have condemned this easiness in his temper, as a weakness that has often exposed him to new inju- ries, and given encouragement to his adversaries to insult him with impunity. Brigadier Churchill, a worthy and good-natured, friendly and honourable man, who had lived Sir Robert's intimate friend for many years, and through all different stages of his power and retirement, prosperity and disgrace, has often said that Sir Robert Walpole was so little able to resist the show of repentance in those from whom he had received the worst usage, that a few tears and promises of amendment have often washed out the stains even of ingratitude. In all occurrences, and at all times, and in all difficulties, he was constantly present and cheer- ful ; he had very little of what is generally called insinuation, and with which people are apt to be taken for the present, without being gained ; but no man ever knew better among those whom he had to deal with, who was to be had, on what terms, by what methods, and how the acquisition would answer. He was not one of those projecting, systematical great geniuses who are always thinking in theory, and are above common practice : he had been too long conversant in business not to know that in the fluctuation of human affairs and variety of accidents to which the best con- certed schemes are liable, they must often be disappointed who build on the certainty of the most probable events ; and therefore seldom turned his thoughts to the provisional warding off future evils which might or might not happen, or the scheming of remote advantages, subject to so many intervening crosses ; but always applied himself to the present occurrence, studying and generally hitting upon the properest method to improve what SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 173 was favourable, and the best expedient to extricate himself out of what was difficult. " There never was any minister to whom access was so easy and so frequent, nor whose answers were more explicit. He knew how to oblige when he bestowed, and not to shock when he denied ; to govern without oppressing, and conquer without triumph. He pursued his ambition without curbing his pleasures, and his plea- sures without neglecting his business ; he did the latter with ease, and indulged himself in the other without giving scandal or offence. In private life, and to all who had any dependence upon him, he was kind and indulgent ; he was generous without osten- tation, and an economist without penuriousness ; not insolent in success, nor irresolute in distress ; faithful to his friends, and not inveterate to his foes." Walpole's neglect to win over to his side, and attach to himself by encouragement and high appointments, the best of the rising young statesmen of George the Second's reign, contributed much to his downfall. His old friends and coadjutors died off, and he would brook no new rival. He stood too much alone, the mark for the attacks of every ancient enemy and every Jacobite, and also of all the new aspirants to political power and honour, each of whom looked on Walpole as a monopoliser, whom he must get rid of, in order to have any chance of the great prizes. Walpole's resistance was heroic ; but his strength gradually grew less, while the animosity and the throng of his opponents daily increased. Probably the mere fact of his having been so long minister told against him. Men got tired of hearing him called Prime Minister for twenty years running. He gave way, against his better judgment, to the popular clamour for a Spanish war ; and soon experienced the truth, that the statesman who makes a concession to popular clamour in order to preserve place for the moment, is as short-sighted in his policy, as the prince of a city who gives his treasures to an invader in order to buy a reprieve from an immediate assault. On the 15th of February, 1741, Sandys prefaced with a long and plausible speech a motion for an address to remove the minister. All the power of both sides was employed in the debate, in which Walpole made a most powerful and effective reply to his multitudinous assailants. He spoke last in the debate ; and though the reports which \ve possess of his speech are meagre and incom- 174 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. plete, they show that Walpole could put forth when he pleased, eloquence and sarcasm of no ordinary power, besides employing the most consummate skill in choosing and arranging his topics. " He observed that the parties combined against him might be divided into three classes the Tories, the disaffected Whigs, calling them- selves patriots, and the boys. To the first class Walpole's tone was mild and most conciliatory, but it became stern when he fell upon the discontented Whigs. ' These patriots,' he exclaimed, ' are such from discontent and disappointment, who would change the ministry that themselves might exclusively succeed. They have laboured at this point for twenty years, and unsuccessfully ; they are impatient of longer delay. They clamour for change of mea- sures, but mean only change of ministers. In party-contests why should not both sides be equally steady? Does not a Whig administration as well deserve the support of the Whigs as the contrary ? Why is not principle the cement in one as well as the other, especially when they confess that all is levelled against one man ? Why this one man ? Because they think, vainly, nobody else could withstand them. All others are treated as tools and vassals. The one is the corrupter, the numbers corrupted. But whence this cry of corruption and exclusive claim of honourable distinction ? Compare the estates, character, and fortunes of the Commons on one side with those on the other. Let the matter be fairly investigated; survey and examine the individuals who usually support the measures of government and those who are in opposition. Let us see to whose side the balance preponderates. Look round both houses, and see to which side the balance of virtue and talent preponderates. Are all these on one side, and not on the other ? Or are all these to be counterbalanced by an affected claim to the exclusive title of patriotism ? Gentlemen have talked a great deal of patriotism, a venerable word when duly practised : but I am sorry to say that, of late, it has been so much hackneyed about that it is in danger of falling into disgrace ; the very idea of true patriotism is lost, and the term has been prostituted to the very worst of purposes. A patriot, sir ! why, patriots spring up like mushrooms. I could raise fifty of them within the four-and-twenty hours. I have raised many of them in one night. It is but refusing to gratify an unreasonable or an insolent demand, and up starts a patriot ! I have never been afraid of making patriots, but I disclaim and despise all their SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 175 efforts. But this pretended virtue proceeds from personal malice and from disappointed ambition. There is not a man amongst them whose particular aim I am not able to ascertain, and from what motive they have entered into the lists of opposition.' Proceed- ing to consider the articles of accusation which they had brought against him, and which they had not thought fit to reduce to specific charges, he spoke of foreign aifairs first, and complained of the way in which they had managed the question, by blending numerous treaties and complicated negotiations into one general mass by stigmatising the whole diplomacy of Europe for thirty years past, and making him accountable for all its shiftings and changings, and all its mischiefs and errors. ' To form a fair and candid judgment/ said he, ' it becomes necessary not to consider the treaties merely insulated ; but to advert to the time in which they were made, to the circumstances and situation of Europe when they were made, to the peculiar situation in which I stand, and to the power which I possessed. I am called, repeatedly and insi- diously, prime and sole minister. Admitting, however, for the sake of argument, that I am prime and sole minister in this country, am I, therefore, prime and sole minister of all Europe? Am I answerable for the conduct of other countries as well as for that of my own ? Many words are not wanting to show that the particular views of each Court occasioned the dangers which affected the public tranquillity, yet the whole is charged to my account. Nor is this sufficient; whatever was the conduct of England, I am equally arraigned. If we maintained ourselves in peace, and took no share in foreign transactions, we are reproached for tameness and pusillanimity. If, on the contrary, we interfered in the disputes, we are called Don Quixotes and dupes to all the world. If we contracted guarantees, it was asked, why is the nation wantonly burthened ? If guarantees were declined, we were reproached with having no allies/ ' After analysing the charges against his foreign policy, Walpole replied to Shippen's charges against his administration of the sinking fund; and he showed that, within the last sixteen or seventeen years, no less than eight millions of the national debt had been actually discharged by the new application of that fund, and that at least seven millions had been taken from that fund and applied to the relief of the agricultural interest by the diminution of the land-tax. As to the South Sea scheme, it was no project of 176 SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. his ; and he asked whether he had not been called on by the voice of the King and the unanimous voice of the nation to remedy the fatal effects produced by it. He proceeded with these queries : " Was I not placed at the head of the Treasury when the revenues were in the greatest confusion? Is credit revived ? Does it not now nourish ? Is it not at an incredible height ? and, if so, to whom must that circumstance be attributed ? Has not tranquillity been preserved at home, notwithstanding a most unreasonable and violent opposition? Has not trade flourished ? " As to the conduct of the war, he said, " As I am neither admiral nor general, as I have nothing to do with either our navy or army, I am sure I am not answerable for the prosecu- tion of it. But, were I to answer for everything, no fault could, I think, be found with my conduct in the prosecution of this war. . . . . If our attacks upon the enemy were too long delayed, or if they have not been so vigorous or so frequent as they ought to have been, those only are to blame who have for so many years been haranguing against standing armies ; for without a sufficient number of regular troops in proportion to the numbers kept up by our neighbours, I am sure we can neither defend ourselves nor offend our enemies. " In concluding his eloquent defence, he said, " What have been the effects of the corruption, ambition, and avarice with which I am so abundantly charged ? Have I ever been suspected of being corrupted ? A strange phe- nomenon ; a corrupter himself not corrupt ! Is ambition imputed to me ? Why, then, do I still continue a commoner ? I, who refused a white staff and a peerage. I had, indeed, like to have forgotten the little ornament about my shoulders (the ribbon of the Order of the Garter) which gentlemen have so repeatedly men- tioned in terms of sarcastic obloquy. But, surely, though this may be regarded with envy or indignation in another place, it cannot be supposed to raise any resentment in this house, where many may be pleased to see those honours which their ancestors have worn restored again to the Commons. Have I given any symptoms of an avaricious disposition ? Have I obtained any grants from the Crown since I have been placed at the head of the Treasury? Has my conduct been different from that which others in the same station would have followed ? Have I acted wrong in giving the place of auditor to my son, and in providing for my own family ? I trust that their advancement will not be silt 1IOBEKT WALPOLB. 177 imputed to me as a crime, unless it shall be proved that I placed them in offices of trust and responsibility for which they were unfit. But while I unequivocally deny that I am sole and prime minister, and that to my influence and direction all the measures of government must be attributed, yet I will not shrink from the responsibility which attaches to the post I have the honour to hold; and should, during the long period in which I have sat upon this bench, any one step taken by government be proved to be either disgraceful or disadvantageous to the nation, I am ready to hold myself accountable. To conclude, sir, though I shall always be proud of the honour of any trust or confidence from his Majesty, yet I shall always be ready to remove from his councils and presence when he thinks fit ; and therefore I should think myself very little concerned in the event of the present question, if it were not for the encroachment that will thereby be made upon the prerogatives of the Crown. But I must think that an address to his Majesty to remove one of his servants, without so much as alleging any particular crime against him, is one of the greatest encroachments that was ever made upon the prerogatives of the Crown; and therefore, for the sake of my master, without any regard for my own, I hope that all those that have a due regard for our constitution, and for the rights and prerogatives of the Crown, without which our constitution cannot be preserved, will be against this motion." Walpole's majority against Sandys was decisive, but it was his last great victory. He himself told bis intimate friends that he felt that his opponents must in the end prevail against him. As doubts began to prevail as to the stability of his power, the mean and the timorous among his adherents began to fly from him. With all the influence of the Crown and of his own wealth, both of which he unhesitatingly used, the next elections were unfavour- able. Questions as to controverted elections, which were then not of law but of party, were decided in favour of the opposition. On the 9th of February, 1742, he was created Earl of Orford, and on the 1 1 th he resigned. The attempt at prosecution for alleged corruption which was made against him came, as before mentioned, to an utter failure. Walpole retained his influence with the King to the last ; and his advice was frequently sought by persons of the highest station. He did not long survive the loss of office. He died on the 18th of ITS Lil!I> BOLINGBROKE. March, 17 !.">, in the sixty-ninth year of his age, of one of the cruelest maladies to which the human frame is subject, and which he bore to the last with unexampled calmness and fortitude. Lord Brougham, in his " Historical Sketches of Statesmen," thus concludes his admirably drawn character of this great minis- ter : " To hold up such men as Walpole in the face of the world as the model of a wise, a safe, an honest ruler, becomes the most sacred duty of the impartial historian ; and as has been said of Cicero and of eloquence, by a great critic, that statesman may feel assured that he has made progress in the science to which his life is devoted who shall heartily admire the public character of Walpole." LORD BOLINGBROKE. IT has been said 8 that Lord Bolingbroke's ambition was to be the modern Alcibiades, to be at once pre-eminent for excess in every sensual pleasure, and for surpassing energy in ruling a nation's councils. This parallel between the youthful Bolingbroke and the son of Clinias in the earlier part of his career is a true one. It might have been added, that each loved to talk of, but not to practise philosophy ; that each was a contemner of his country's creed ; and that Bolingbroke's patriotism, like that of Alcibiades, was measured by the extent to which he thought his country's prosperity was likely to promote his own personal aggrandizement. To the high military renown of the Athenian, Bolingbroke can offer no counterpart ; but, on the other hand, he was far his superior in eloquence, and in intellectual ascendancy over his contemporaries in a highly intellectual age. Henry St. John, afterwards Viscount Bolingbroke, was the son of Sir Henry St. John, Baronet, of the ancient family of that name. He was born at the family mansion at Battersea, in Surrey, in 1678. His mother died early; and, as he was the only son by his father's first marriage, he inherited a good estate in Wiltshire, which had been settled on his mother and her issue, and thus acquired an ample independent fortune early in life, though his father lived to an extreme old age. Most unfortunately for Bolingbroke, his early childhood was passed in the house of his grandfather, Sir Walter St. John, and 8 Lord Mahon's History, vol. i. p. 35. LORD BOLINGBROKE. 179 under the care and tuition of a fanatically puritanical grandmother, and a still more fanatically puritanical Presbyterian preacher, Daniel Burgess. By their mistaken zeal little Henry St. John was daily drugged with the prolix formulas of dull devotion. " I was obliged," he says in part of his writings, " I was obliged, while yet a boy, to read over the commentaries of Dr. Manton, whose pride it was to have made a hundred and nineteen sermons on the hundred and nineteenth Psalm." He in another passage says of this Nonconformist polemic, whose works were made the com- pulsory staple of his early studies, " Dr. Manton, who taught my youth to yawn, and prepared me to be a high Churchman, that I might never hear him read, nor read him more." Unhappily the repulsive dogmas of Burgess, Manton, and his grandmother, did more than make Bolingbroke a non -Presby- terian. By a re-action, of which far too many instances might be cited, the quick and high-spirited boy through an injudicious cram- ming with the doctrines and ritual of a single sect conceived a prejudice against all revealed religion whatsoever. They, who teach children, should always remember that a clever child has a very keen eye for the ridiculous ; and that the contempt which such a child acquires for the awkward or silly teacher, even of truth, is easily extended to the truth itself; which becomes thus associated in the pupil's mind with ludicrous or loathsome recol- lections of the unlucky preceptor, and is fancied to be folly because the child first heard it from a fool. After having passed some years under this dreary domestic dis- cipline, young St. John was sent to Eton. Here, as afterwards at Christ Church, Oxford, the brilliancy of his genius commanded the admiration both of his fellow-students and his academic rulers. Irregular in everything, he never amassed such ample stores of sound learning as distinguished some of the scholars of his age. With the Greek classics his acquaintance was never more than superficial ; but he was extensively and accurately conversant with the Latin writers, and he added to his classical accomplishments the unusual merit of a thorough knowledge of the best writers in his own and other modern languages. He devoted much time and thought to metaphysics a study which he rightly thought absolutely essential to the man who seeks to make the minds of others acknowledge his own mind's dominion. He was well read in ancient and a consummate master of modern history. He had 180 LORD BOLINGBROKE. read} 7 invention, rich imagination, fluent diction, exquisite taste, shrewd wit, and an unrivalled power of artistic arrangement. Such were his talents ; and he had also the energy and the fire which are the attributes of genius alone. Add to these endow- ments and acquisitions a person both elegant and commanding, an expressive and noble aspect, graceful gesture, and a voice of unrivalled modulation and power ; add also the solid advantages, as well as the prestige, of high birth and ample fortune, and we may form some idea of the imposing manner in which young St. John made appearance in the political world of England. He entered parliament in 1701 as member for Wootton Basset, a Wiltshire borough, that belonged to his family. He had already formed a friendship with Harley, who was the leader in the House of Commons of the Tory party, which was then beginning to make a successful stand in parliament against the Whigs. To him St. John now attached himself as his political chief, and came forward as a zealous champion against low Church and revolution principles. Such were St. John's abilities and eloquence, that even before the end of his first session, and while he was yet in the twenty- third year of his age, he was reckoned one of the most active and efficient members of his party, and was the favourite speaker of the House. He continued to sit in the succeeding parliaments, and to co-operate with Harley. His influence and authority with the Commons continued to increase, and in 1704 he became a member of the Godolphin and Marlborough ministry, the im- portant post of Secretary-at-war being intrusted to his hands ; an office which he had the honour of holding during several of the most glorious years of the great war of the succession. His friend Harley was made Secretary of State about the same time. While the dawn of Bolingbroke's political career was thus bril- liant, his private life was deformed by the coarsest excesses. He had married in 1700 a lady with whom he received considerable property ; but his open profligacy soon compelled her to separate herself from him. In a grossly immoral age he made himself notorious both among his countrymen and foreigners for the grossness of his immoralities. Such notoriety seemed indeed to be one of the first objects of his existence ; and he lost no oppor- tunity of blazoning his own disgraces. Lord Chesterfield, who was his contemporaiy, in the elaborate character which he has drawn in one of his letters, while he LORD BOLINGBROKE. 181 pays ample homage to the brilliancy of Bolingbroke's genius, says truly of him, that " he has beeu a most mortifying instance of the violence of human passion and of the weakness of the most exalted human reason. Impetuosity, excess, and almost extravagancy, characterised not only his passions but even his senses. His youth was distinguished by all the tumult and storm of pleasures, in which he most licentiously triumphed, disdaining all decorum. Those passions were interrupted by a stronger Ambition. The former impaired both his constitution and his character, but the latter destroyed both his fortune and his reputation." As is well known, the Marlborough and Godolphin ministry grew by degrees less and less Tory, and eventually became decidedly Whiggish. But Harley and St. John continued to act under it for some time after Rochester and other violent Tories had been removed. Marlborough was at this time personally attached to St. John. He discerned the high intellectual merits of the young orator, who, in return, did justice to the military genius of our first Great Duke. But St. John clung to his old connexion with Harley. He must have known, even if he did not prompt, the back-stair and bed-chamber intrigues by which Harley strove to supplant his own ministerial chiefs, and to rule Queen Anne through Mrs. Masham instead of Marlborough ruling her through his Duchess. Accordingly, in 1708, when the Whigs detected Harley's manoeuvres and forced him to resign, St. John resigned also. For two years he was out of parliament, a period which he employed in the most steady course of study that he ever followed, and a period which he always afterwards justly regarded as the most serviceable to himself of his whole life. In 1710, when the victory of Abigail over Sarah at Queen Anne's toilet had outweighed all Marlborough's victories in the field, and when Sacheverell's trial had made the Whigs generally unpopular with the squirearchy and populace, St. John shared in Harley's triumphant return to power. He was made Secretary of State, with the supreme direction of foreign affairs ; and, as the con- clusion of peace with France was the first object of Harley's ministry, St. John held the most arduous and important post in the new cabinet. Some years afterwards, in his celebrated letter to Sir William Wyndham, Bolingbroke gave a very frank account of the prin- ciples on which he and Ilarley acted. He says, " I am afraid that 182 LORD BOLINGBROKE. we came to Court in the same dispositions as all parties have done; that the principal spring of our actions was to have the government of the State in our hands ; that our principal views were the conservation of this power, great employments to our- selves, and great opportunities of rewarding those who had helped to raise us, and of hurting those who stood in opposition to us. It is, however, true, that with these considerations of private and party interest there were others intermingled, which had for their object the public good of the nation, at least what we took to be such." When a statesman thus openly avows that he made his country's interests secondary to his own, it is idle to discuss his title to the character of a patriot, and difficult to discern his right to be treated as an honest man. Bolingbroke, however, was not always thus candid ; and a large portion of his writings is devoted to the task of proving that the treaty of Utrecht, by which he terminated the war of the succes- sion, was both honourable and advantageous for England. There are many arguments which deserve fair attention on either side of the question, whether the true interests of this nation required a further prosecution of the war, which had originally been com- menced by the grand alliance of Austria, England, and Holland, for the purpose of preserving the liberties of Europe, and reducing the exorbitant power of France. Such had been declared by the allies to be the leading principle of their confederacy; the immediate object for which they commenced hostilities, being to prevent the grandson of King Louis of France from reigning as King Philip of Spain. The victories of Marlborough had so broken the power of France, that it would have been idle to think Europe any longer in danger from French arms in 1710. But Philip of Anjou kept possession of the Spanish sceptre which he had grasped ; and Bolingbroke, by the treaty of Utrecht, secured it to a Bourbon dynasty. The arguments for and against this celebrated treaty are admirably summed up by Hallam, in his " Constitutional History of England." He and most politicians of recent times decide against Bolingbroke on this point. But even if there be any doubt whether it was impolitic in the English ministry to conclude such a treaty as that of Utrecht, there never has been, and never can be, any doubt as to the baseness of the means by which that treaty was effected. In direct breach of the LORD BOLINGBROKE. 183 article of the confederacy by which the allies bound themselves to each other to enter into no separate negotiations with the common enemy, England made a clandestine treaty with France in the midst of actual hostilities : the English troops acted, or rather abstained from action, in accordance with secret instructions from the French General ; we left our allies to be attacked and defeated by the French army, to which our desertion had made them suddenly and hopelessly inferior ; we even seized on the towns of our own confederates, and, after having for a while loudly denied the existence of any private compact between ourselves and the French, we openly and unblushingly avowed it, and did all we could to force our allies to submit to similar terms of accom- modation with the House of Bourbon. Bolingbroke was the great actor in all these scenes, though Harley was the nominal head of the ministry. Bolingbroke always assumed the credit, as he chose to call it, of the negotiations; and I will quote some of the passages in his letter to Sir W. Wyndham respecting them. The character which he draws of Harley, Lord Oxford, is no less just than severe. The value of his praises of himself can be easily estimated. These quotations may also serve as specimens of the venomous grace with which Bolingbroke could speak and write : " A principal load of parliamentary and foreign affairs in their ordinary course lay upon me ; the whole negotiation of the peace, and of the troublesome invidious steps preliminary to it, as far as they could be transacted at home, were thrown upon me. I con- tinued in the House of Commons during that important session which preceded the peace, and which, by the spirit shown through the whole course of it, and by the resolutions taken in it, rendered the conclusion of the treaties practicable. After this, I was dragged into the House of Lords in such a manner as to make my promotion a punishment, not a reward, and was there left to defend the treaties almost alone. " It would not have been hard to have forced the Earl of Oxford to use me better. His good intentions began to be very much doubted of; the truth is, no opinion of his sincerity had ever taken root in the party ; and which was worse, perhaps, for a man in his station, the opinion of his capacity began to fall apace. He was so hard-pushed in the House of Lords in the beginning of 1712, that he had been forced, in the middle of the session, 184 LtKi) BOL1NGBBOKE. to persuade the Queen to make a promotion of twelve Peers at once, which was an unprecedented and invidious measure, to be excused by nothing but the necessity, and hardly by that. In the House of Commons his credit was low, and my reputation very high. You know the nature of that assembly : they grow, like hounds, fond of the man who shows them game, and by whose halloo they are used to be encouraged. The thread of the nego- tiations, which could not stand still a moment without going back, was in my hands ; and before another man could have made him- self master of the business, much time would have been lost, and great inconveniences would have followed. Some, who opposed the Court soon after, began to waver then; and if I had not wanted the inclination, I should have wanted no help to do mischief. I knew the way of quitting my employments and of retiring from Court when the service of my party required it ; but I could not bring myself up to that resolution, when the conse- quence of it must have been the breaking my party, and the distress of the public affairs. I thought my mistress treated me ill, but the sense of that duty which I owed her came in aid of other considerations, and prevailed over my resentment. These sentiments, indeed, are so much out of fashion, that a man who avows them is in danger of passing for a bubble in the world : yet they were, in the conjuncture I speak of, the true motives of my conduct, and you saw me go on as cheerfully in the troublesome and dangerous work assigned me, as if I had been under the utmost satisfaction. I began, indeed, in my heart, to renounce the friendship, which till that time I had preserved inviolable for Oxford. I was not aware of all his treachery, nor of the base and little means which he employed then, and continued to employ afterwards, to ruin me in the opinion of the Queen and everywhere else. I saw, however, that he had no friendship for anybody, and that with respect to me, instead of having the ability to render that merit which I endeavoured to acquire an addition of strength to himself, it became the object of his jealousy, and a reason for undermining me. In this temper of mind I went on, till the great work of the peace was consummated, and the treaty signed at Utrecht, after which a new and more melancholy scene for the party, as well as for me, opened itself. "Instead of gathering strength, either as a ministry or as a party, we grew weaker every day. The peace had been judged, LOUD BOLINGBROKE. 185 with reason, to be the only solid foundation whereupon we could erect a Tory system ; and yet, when it was made, we found our- selves at a full stand. Nay the very work, which ought to have been the basis of our strength, was in part demolished before our eyes, and we were stoned with the ruins of it. Whilst this was doing, Oxford looked on, as if he had not been a party to all which had passed ; broke now and then a jest, which savoured of the inns of court and the bad company in which he had been bred ; and on those occasions, where his station obliged him to speak of business, was absolutely unintelligible. " Whether this man ever had any determined view besides that of raising his family, is, I believe, a problematical question in the world. My opinion is, that he never had any other. The conduct of a minister who proposes to himself a great and noble object, and who pursues it steadily, may seem for a while a riddle to the world, especially in a government like ours, where numbers of men, different in their characters and different in their interests, are at all times to be managed ; where public affairs are exposed to more accidents and greater hazards than in other countries ; and where, by consequence, he who is at the head of business will find him- self often distracted by measures which have no relation to his purpose, and obliged to bend himself to things which are in some degree contrary to his main design. The ocean which environs us is an emblem of our government ; and the pilot and the minister are in similar circumstances. It seldom happens that either of them can steer a direct course, and they both arrive at their port by means which frequently seem to carry them from it. But as the work advances, the conduct of him who leads it on with real abilities clears up, the appearing inconsistencies are reconciled, and when it is once consummated, the whole shows itself so uniform, so plain, and so natural, that every dabbler in politics will be apt to think he could have done the same. But, on the other hand, a man who proposes no such object, who substitutes artifice in the place of ability, who, instead of leading parties and governing accidents, is eternally agitated backwards and forwards by both, who begins every day something new, and carries nothing on to perfection, may impose awhile on the world ; but a little sooner or a little later the mystery will be revealed, and nothing will be found to be couched under it but a thread of pitiful expedients, the ultimate end of which never extended further than living from 186 LOUD BOLINQBROKE. day to day. Which of these pictures resembles Oxford most, you will determine. " He is naturally inclined to believe the worst, which I take to be a cei'tain mark of a mean spirit and a wicked soul; at least I am sure that the contrary quality, when it is not due to weakness of understanding, is the fruit of a generous temper and an honest heart. Prone to judge ill of all mankind, he will rarely be seduced by his credulity ; but I never knew a man so capable of being the bubble of his distrust and jealousy. He was so in this case, although the Queen, who could not be ignorant of the truth, said enough to undeceive him. But to be undeceived, and to own himself so, was not his play. He hoped by cunning to varnish over his want of faith and of ability. He was desirous to make the world impute the extraordinary part, or, to speak more properly, the no part, which he acted with the staff of Treasurer in his hand, to the Queen's withdrawing her favour from him, and to his friends abandoning him ; pretences utterly groundless, when he first made them, and which he brought to be real at last." The advancement to the peerage, which is alluded to in this passage, took place in 1712, when Mr. St. John was created Baron St. John, and Viscount Bolingbroke. The last is the name by which he is generally known, and which I have employed by anticipation in speaking of the antecedent part of his career. Harley had made himself Earl of Oxford, soon after the com- mencement of his ministry. The preceding extracts show how bitter a hatred had sprung up between these two once fast friends. Swift, their common friend, in vain tried to reconcile them. Besides the procrastinating, vacillating paltriness which was inherent in Harley's spirit, and his mean selfishness in grasping at everything while fit to wield nothing, there was another cause of difference between him and Bolingbroke, more creditable to the Premier. There cannot be any doubt of Bolingbroke having resolved during their ministry to take effectual measures for bringing in the Pretender and setting aside the House of Hanover immediately on Queen Anne's death. Impudently as he and Swift have denied this in their writings, it has been decisively proved by the publication of the memoirs of Marshal Berwick, whom Bolingbroke admits to have been his agent for communications with France. Harley dabbled in negotiations with the Pretender, but held back from the bold LORD BOLINGBROKE. 187 measures which Bolingbroke proposed for insuring a counter- revolution at the Queen's death. This may have been partly owing to Harley's natural irresolution, but it is but justice to believe that he was unwilling utterly to betray the good old cause of civil and religious liberty for which his father and himself had taken up arms in 1688, and that he recoiled from destroying the Protestant settlement which he himself had helped to establish in 1701. Bolingbroke had no such scruples. He knew that his conduct in the Utrecht negotiations, his active share in all the intolerant measures which had been taken against the English Nonconformists, and his recognised position as the parliamentary champion of the highest of high Tories, must have made him an object of mistrust with the Hanoverian family, with whom his enemies the Whigs were in proportionate favour. He had there- fore nothing to hope for himself from the House of Brunswick, while he might fairly expect to be the all-powerful minister of the heir of the Stuarts, could he seat that personage on the English throne as King James the Third. As for the enthusiastic, though misplaced, loyalty of the nobler spirits among the Jacobites towards the exiled descendants of their ancient monarchs, Bolingbroke neither felt nor did he ever pretend to feel it. He laughed to scorn the old doctrines of divine right and indefeasible allegiance. He must also have thus early ascertained, through his abundant opportunities of inquiring, the utterly contemptible personal cha- racter of the Pretender, such as he afterwards himself described it in some of the most bitter and powerful passages of his many bitter and powerful writings. 9 Bolingbroke cared nothing for all this, but looked coolly and steadily to what Avould be best for himself. He saw that his personal interest would be promoted by bringing in the Pretender, and to bring in the Pretender he accordingly resolved, making his country as usual a subject of secondary con- sideration. After a long series of bickerings he succeeded in displacing Harley by the same influence through which Harley had displaced Marlborough. Bolingbroke won over Lady Masham, Lady Masham ruled Queen Anne, and on the 27th of July 1714, her Majesty dismissed the Lord High Treasurer from all his employ- ments ; and all the power of the State, with full authority to call whom he pleased to act under him as ministers, was committed to the triumphant Bolingbroke. 9 Letter to Sir W. Wyndham, pp. 90, 105. 1SS LOUD BOLINOBKOKE. It was known that Queen Anne could not live long, and the success at her death of all Bolingbroke's schemes seemed secure- Much had already been done towards remodelling the army by displacing the best of M arlborough's officers ; and many of the strongest sea-ports had already been entrusted to Jacobite authori- ties. Bolingbroke, after ineffectually trying to cajole some of the leading Whigs, drew up the scheme of a ministry of thorough- going Jacobites. He had an interview with Gaultrier the Pretender's agent, in which he assured him of his continuing zeal for the King. Had three months, had even three weeks, been allowed him, it is certain that he would have so matured his arrangements, as to have made the Pretender's enthronement, or a civil war, or both, inevitable. Providentially not three days of power were permitted him to misspend. Harley was dismissed on the 27th of July, and on the 30th the Queen was seized with an apoplectic fit, and her recovery was pronounced to be hopeless. The leading Whigs, especially the Dukes of Argyll and Somerset, acted with energy at this crisis. So rapid had been the succession of events, that Bolingbroke and his confederates had not yet been formally enrolled in office. Argyll and Somerset appeared unbidden at the council board. The Duke of Shrewsbury deserted Bolingbroke, to co-operate with them. They proceeded to the bedside of the dying Queen, and a gesture from the royal sufferer was construed into an assent to their proposal that Shrewsbury should at once be appointed Lord High Treasurer. Before evening the Whigs were in power, and the image of authority with which Bolingbroke had delighted himself for forty-eight hours had utterly vanished. On the next day the Queen died, and King George the First was proclaimed King of England, as peaceably as if Queen Sophia Guelph, and not Queen Anne Stuart, lay dead in Kensington Palace. Bolingbroke lingered in England for a short time after the proclamation of King George the First. On the arrival of the new monarch, Bolingbroke requested permission to kiss his hand, and sent most humble assurances of his obedience ; but his request was refused ; and it was resolved to impeach him of high treason. Instead of staying to meet the charge, he fled in disguise to France, " in consequence," says he, in a letter to Lord Lansdowne, " of having received certain and repeated information from some who are in the secret of affairs, that a resolution was taken by those LORD BOLINGBROKE. 189 who had power to execute it, to pursue me to the scaffold." In other parts of his writings, he says, that in order to defend himself he must have co-operated with Harley (then under a similar accusation), and that he "abhorred Harley to that degree, that he could not bear to be joined with him in any case ! " Immediately on his flight being known, a bill of attainder was brought in against him by his ancient schoolfellow, Walpole ; and so general was the impression of his guilt, that only two members both of whom were rank Jacobites ventured to utter a word in the fugitive's defence. The Bill passed through the Upper House ; and, as if to justify it, Bolingbroke, with, as he says, the smart of attainder tingling in his veins, accepted the office of secretary in the mock court of the Pretender. But he soon discovered the folly of the step he had taken. In his letter to Sir William Wvndham, he has humorously but bitterly depicted the con- temptible character of the sham King James the Third, the madness of his followers, and the hopelessness of their projects. Bolingbroke was relieved from the false position in which he had placed himself, by an insolent and unmerited dismissal, with which he was favoured by that personage, who even put forth the " brutum fulmen" of an impeachment against him, as a traitor to the House of Stuart. Thus proscribed by both parties, Bolingbroke eagerly sought to rid himself of the attainder which had been passed against him in England. In this he was materially aided by his second wife, whom he had married in Paris during his exile. This lady employed her wealth in bribing the Duchess of Kendal, one of King George's favourites, and permission was given for Boling- broke's return to his country. As soon as he arrived in England, he used all his arts and energy to obtain the reversal of his attainder, not scrupling to humble himself to degradation before his enemy Walpole, that he might accomplish his object ; and his efforts were so far successful, that in two years after his return from banishment, his family estate was restored to him, and he was allowed to possess any other estate in the kingdom which he might think proper to purchase. But Walpole never would consent to Bolingbroke's resuming his seat in the House of Peers. He restored him to every thing else, but cautiously shut the doors of parliament against him. This caution is, as Walpole's own son remarked, the fullest homage to Bolingbroke's eloquence, and LORD BOLINGBROKE. shows how formidable must have been his talents as a Parlia- mentary chief of party. Bolingbroke purchased a seat of Lord Tankerville's, at Dawley, near Uxbridge in Middlesex, and here he devoted himself to farm- ing for a short time. He maintained a constant correspondence with Swift, now banished, as he himself said, to Ireland, and Pope resided within a short distance ; so that he was not wholly deprived of the society of eminent men. In writing to Swift about this period, he says, " I am on my own farm, and here I shoot strong and tenacious roots; I have caught hold of the earth, to use a gardener's phrase, and neither my friends nor my enemies will find it an easy matter to transplant me again." But he could not endure rustication long. He soon returned keener than ever to the strife of party, though debarred from entering the great arena of conflicting statesmen, and shining forth as the Achilles of the eloquent war. Finding that there was no hope of his being restored to his station so long as Walpole held the reins of power, and heedless of the gratitude which he had again and again professed to that statesman, he leagued himself with the Tory party, and with the discontented Whigs who clung to Pulteney. All the tactics of the Opposition were directed by Bolingbroke, and he was the animating spirit of every open assault, and every dark and wily manosuvre, with which the great minister was assailed. But the Press was Bolingbroke's great engine. He had previously, while Queen Anne's minister, shown a sagacity far in advance of his age, by appreciating and employing the Press, as a systematic organ for raising Public Opinion in his own favour, and crushing his adversaries beneath it. He now commenced a weekly political paper called " The Craftsman," of which he was himself projector, manager, and chief writer; and by means of this journal and other periodicals he circulated throughout the country series after series of fierce invectives and skilful insinuations against Walpole, in which it is difficult to say whether malice or genius is the most conspicuous. Walpole at last fell, but Bolingbroke did not rise. The House of Peers was still shut against him, and the rest of his life was passed partly in France, and partly in retirement at his family mansion at Battersea, where he died in 1751. He had continued during the last years of his life to publish political and literary UMM) I'.OUXGBKOKE. 191 treatises ; and it was chiefly at this period that he compiled those writings on religious subjects which by his orders his legatee and executor, David Mallet, published after his death. Johnson's sarcasm on this is well known : he said that " Bolingbroke having loaded a blunderbuss against Christianity, had not the courage to fire it off, but left a hungry Scotchman half-a-crown to pull the trigger after his death." Johnson might have added, that the loading was with blank cartridge ; as Bolingbroke's theological writings are by universal confession shallow, inaccurate, and illogical. Pope truly said of him, on hearing that he was writing on such subjects, " If ever Bolingbroke trifles, it must be when he turns divine." Comment on Bolingbroke's pretensions to patriotism or to honest worth is surely unnecessary after tracing his conduct and career. But on turning from the consideration of Lord Boling- broke himself to the consideration of his writings, contempt is instantly exchanged for boundless admiration. I unhesitatingly place him at the head of all the prose writers in our language. Hooker, Milton, Jeremy Taylor, and others of our old authors may have finer bursts of sublimity and pathos in their most poetic prose ; but these are ' purpurei panni,' to be sought for among heaps of rugged sentences, harsh metaphors, and grotesque con- ceits. Bolingbroke never thus shocks the taste, while for page after page he charms us with the fertility of his imagination and the varied richness of his majestic mind. He is clear and nervous as Swift, without Swift's plebeian meagreness of style. He has Addison's elegance without his tameness. He has Johnson's sententious grandeur without his pomposity. He has sarcasm as stern as that of Junius, but he has also descriptive powers ; he has a skill of varying his tone and manner ; he has a graceful facility and judgment in the introduction of passages of repose, such as that celebrated railcr never displays. Above all, Bolingbroke's writings have the charm of never wearing the appearance of effort. There are no traces in them of getting up the steam. His intel- lectual strength is like the strength of the living body, ever present, and ever ready for free and unartificial exertion. So too of his diction : his contemporary, Lord Chesterfield, confessed that till he read Lord Bolingbroke's writings, he did not know all the extent and powers of the English language ; and that Lord Bolingbroke's eloquence was not a studied or laboured eloquence, 192 hoi!D BOLINGBROKE. but a flowing happiness of expression. Lord Mahon truly says that " The greatest praise of Bolingbrokc's style is to be found in the fact, that it was the study and the model of the two greatest minds of the succeeding generations Mr. Burke and Mr. Pitt. The former, as is well known, had so closely imbued himself with it, that his first publication was a most injurious, and, to many persons, most deceptive imitation of its manner. To Mr. Pitt it was recommended by the example and advice of his illustrious father, who, in one of his letters, observes of Oldcastle's Remarks, that they ' should be studied, and almost got by heart, for the inimitable beauty of the style/ Mr. Pitt, accordingly, early read and often recurred to these political writings ; and he has several times stated in conversation to the present Lord Stanhope, that there was scarcely any loss in literature which he so deeply deplored, as that no adequate record of Bolingbroke's speeches should remain. What glory to Bolingbroke, if we are to judge of the master by his pupils ! " Lord Brougham has eulogised Bolingbroke's style in terms equally strong. I would advise any reader who wishes to satisfy himself as to the true position of Bolingbroke as a writer, to consider, first, what are the two great elements of our language ; and whether excellence in writing English must not consist in combining and judiciously employing the peculiar beauties and resources of each of these elements. Then, read Bolingbroke's first work his letter to Sir William Wyndham and ask yourself whether you would wish to have a more complete or a more graceful specimen, either of the simple pure strength of the Anglo-Saxon, or of the dignified copiousness of the Latin part of our language. I have already quoted a very fine passage from this letter ; I will add a few more from it, and from other parts of Bolingbroke's works, which will show the variety as well as the extent of his powers. Bolingbroke is speaking of the Pretender's Court : " Here I found a multitude of people at work, and every one doing what seemed good in his own eyes : no subordination, .no order, no concert. Persons, concerned in the management of these affairs upon former occasions, have assured me this is always the case. It might be so to some degree ; but I believe never so much as now. The Jacobites had wrought one another LORD BOLINGBROKE. 193 up to look on the success of the present designs as infallible. Every meeting-house which the populace demolished, every little drunken riot which happened, served to confirm them in these sanguine expectations : and there was hardly one amongst them who would lose the air of contributing by his intrigues to the Restoration, which he took it for granted would be brought about without him in a very few weeks. " Care and hope sat on every busy Irish face. Those who could write and read had letters to show, and those who had not arrived to this pitch of erudition had their secrets to whisper. No sex was excluded from this ministry. Fanny Oglethorp, whom you must have seen in England, kept her corner in it, and Oliver Trant was the great wheel of our machine." The writers in support of Walpole : " The reasons I have given for mentioning these writers ought to excuse me for it, at least to you ; and even to you I shall say very little more about them. The flowers they gather at Billings- gate, to adorn and entwine their productions, shall be passed over by me without any reflection. They assume the privilege of watermen and oyster-women. Let them enjoy it in that good company, and exclusively of all other persons. They cause no scandal ; they give no offence ; they raise no sentiment but con- tempt in the breasts of those they attack ; and it is to be hoped, for the honour of those whom they would be thought to defend, that they raise, by this low and dirty practice, no other sentiment in them. But there is another part of their proceeding, which may be attributed by malicious people to you, and which deserves for that reason alone some place in this dedication, as it might be some motive to the writing of it. When such authors grow scurrilous, it would be highly unjust to impute their scurrility to any prompter ; because they have in themselves all that is neces- sary to constitute a scold, ill manners, impudence, a foul mouth, and a fouler heart. But when they menace, they rise a note higher. They cannot do this in their own names. Men may be apt to conclude, therefore, that they do in the name, as they affect to do it on the behalf, of the person, in whose cause they desire to be thought retained." Importance of early historical education : " The temper of the mind is formed, and a certain turn given to our ways of thinking; in a word, the seeds of that moral 194 SIR WILLIAM WYNDHAM. character, which cannot wholly alter the character, but may correct the evil and improve the good that is in it, or do the very contrary, are sown betimes, and much sooner than is commonly supposed. It is equally certain, that we shall gather or not gather experience, be the better or worse for this experience, when we come into the world and mingle amongst mankind, according to the temper of mind and the turn of thought that we have acquired beforehand, and bring along with us. They will tincture all our future acquisitions; so that the very same experience, which secures the judgment of one man, or excites him to virtue, shall lead another into error, or plunge him into vice. From hence it follows, that the study of history has in this respect a double advantage. If experience alone can make us perfect in our parts, experience cannot begin to teach them till we are actually on the stage: whereas, by a previous application to this study, we con them over at least, before we appear there : we are not quite unprepared ; we learn our parts sooner ; and we learn them better." I have quoted more largely from Bolingbroke than I otherwise should have done, on account of the general neglect with which his works are now treated. It is indeed neither to be wondered at nor to be lamented, that, taking them as a whole, they are now seldom read. Their subject-matter causes this. Generally speak- ing, when Bolingbroke is not irreligious, he is unfairly attacking Walpole, or dishonestly defending the peace of Utrecht. But as rhetorical exercises, his works are invaluable ; and, to adopt again the remark of Lord Chesterfield, " the Englishman who is wholly unacquainted with Bolingbroke, is very imperfectly acquainted with the power and beauty of his own language." (Life by Mallet, prefixed to his Works. Lord Mahon's History. Knight's Cyclopaedia.} SIR WILLIAM WYNDHAM. THIS eminent leader of a powerful parliamentary party against Sir Robert Walpole, was descended from an ancient Norfolk family, which possessed the lands of Wymondham in that county from a very early period. He was the grandson of Sir William Wyndham, on whom Charles the Second conferred a baronetcy. He was born in 1687 : he received his education at Eton, and at SIR WILLIAM WYXDHAM. 195 Christ-church, Oxford. On leaving the university he spent some years in travelling abroad. Soon after his return to England he was chosen knight of the shire for Somerset, and sat as such in the three last parliaments of Queen Anne, and in all the subse- quent parliaments, until his death. Bolingbroke's friendship procured for him, in 1710, the post of Secretary-at-War. In 1713 he became Chancellor of the Exchequer. Wyndham was an ardent and an almost undisguised Jacobite; and entered accordingly into all Bolingbroke's schemes to keep out the Hano- verian dynasty. But there is this wide difference between the two statesmen, that Wyndham, however mistaken, was sincere in the line of politics which he adopted. Lord Bolingbroke's influence over Wyndham was discreditably manifested in the resemblance between the two friends as to irregularity in morals, and want of religious principle. It was, however, only in Sir William's earlier years that the latter weak- ness was exhibited by him. As he grew older he grew wiser. Lord Mahon says " In early life Wyndham was guilty of a failing which reason and reflection afterwards corrected, he thought and spoke with levity on sacred subjects. One instance of this kind I am inclined to mention, on account of the admirable answer which he received from Bishop Atterbury ; an answer not easily to be matched, as a most ready and forcible, yet mild and polished reproof. In 1715 they were dining with a party at the Duke of Ormond's, at Richmond. The conversation turning on prayers, Wyndham said, that the shortest prayer he had ever heard of was the prayer of a common soldier, just before the battle of Blenheim : ' O God, if there be a God, save my soul, if I have a soul ! ' This story was followed by a general laugh. But the Bishop of Rochester, then first joining in the conversation, and addressing himself to Wyndham, said, with his usual grace and gentleness of manner, ' Your prayer, Sir William, is indeed very short, but I remember another as short, but a much better, offered up likewise by a poor soldier in the same circumstances : " O God, if in the day of battle I forget thee, do thou not forget me \"' The whole company sat silent and abashed." This anecdote, as Lord Mahon mentions, is found in the writings of Dr. King, who was himself one of the party. On the accession of King George the First, Wyndham kept his place in parliament, and strenuously defended his old friends o 2 198 LOKD TOWNSHEND. and colleagues on their impeachment. On the breaking out of Mar's rebellion in 1715, Sir William was apprehended and sent to the Tower, but he was afterwards set at liberty without a trial. After this period he still pursued his career of opposition to the Whig ministers and was the acknowledged head of the high Tory party. He died in 1740, being then only fifty-three years old ; and for nearly half that period he had been a leading member of the House of Commons. We possess no specimens of Wyndham's oratory sufficient to enable us to form a sure estimate of it : but we may be at least certain that he, who was for years classed with Pulteney as " the two Consuls of the Opposition," and who was recognised by Walpole as a formidable antagonist, must have been gifted with considerable powers of eloquence, and must have acquired no mean skill as a debater. "In my opinion," says Speaker Onslow, " Sir William Wyndham was the most made for a great man of any one that I have known in this age. Every thing about him seemed great. There was no inconsistency in his composition ; all the parts of his character suited and helped one another." (Cunningham's Biography. Lord Mahon's History of England, vol. iii.) LORD TOWNSHEND. CHARLES VISCOUNT TOWNSHEND, the eldest son of Horatio, first Viscount Townshend, was born on the 10th of March, 1674. He was at Eton with the Walpoles and other Etonians of celebrity in after-life, as already mentioned in preceding memoirs. He took his seat in the House of Peers on attaining his majority, and became successively Lord- Lieutenant of the county of Norfolk, a Commissioner for treating of an Union with Scotland, Captain Yeoman of Queen Anne's Guard, a Privy Councillor, and one of the plenipotentiaries for negotiating a peace with France in 1709. His colleague on this occasion was the Duke of Marl- borough. Townshend remained at the Hague as English Ambas- sador to the States-General ; and, by the recommendation of several of the leading men in Holland, he became favourably known by the Elector of Hanover, afterwards George the First. On his return home, after the expulsion of the Whigs from office by Harley, Mrs. Masham, and Bolingbroke, Townshend continued LOED TOWXSHEND. 197 firm to the Whig cause, and, by a marriage with Sir Robert Walpole's sister, made still closer the friendship already subsisting between them as old schoolfellows and county neighbours. On the accession of George the First, whose confidence Town- shend had previously obtained, he was nominated one of the Lords Justices to whom the government was confided until the King's arrival. On the 14th of September, 1714, he was made Chief Secretary of State, and took the lead in administration until the latter end of 1716, when, in consequence of differences as to the King's Hanoverian policy, he resigned his seals of office. He was, however, soon restored to power. In June, 1720, he became Pre- sident of the Council, and was appointed one of the Lords Justices during the King's visit to Hanover. Shortly afterwards he resumed his office of Chief Secretary of State, and in May, 1723, accom- panied George the First to his Electorate. The death of Stanhope and the disgrace of Sunderland at length left Townshend and his brother-in-law, Walpole, without any for- midable competitors, and their political supremacy was for some time untroubled. In July, 1724, Townshend was made a Knight of the Garter. In 1727 he again accompanied George the First to the Continent, and was present at that monarch's decease. He continued in office after the accession of George the Second, until May 1730, when a violent personal quarrel occurred between him and Walpole, which ended in Townshend's resignation. Lord Mahon says of him, " He left office with a most unblemished cha- racter, and, what is still more uncommon, a most patriotic mode- ration. Had he gone into opposition, or even steered a neutral course, he must have caused great embarrassment and difficulty to his triumphant rival ; but he must thereby also have thwarted a policy of which he approved, and hindered measures which he wished to see adopted. In spite, therefore, of the most flattering advances from the Opposition, who were prepared to receive' him with open arms, he nobly resolved to retire altogether from public life. He withdrew to his paternal seat at Bainham, where he passed the eight remaining years of his life in well-earned leisure or in agricultural improvements. It is to him that England, and more especially his native county of Norfolk, owes the introduction and cultivation of the turnip from Germany. He resisted all soli- citations to re-enter public life, nor would even consent to visit London. Once, when Chesterfield had embarked in full opposition 198 LORD TOWNSHEND. to Walpole, he went to Baiiiham, on purpose to use his influence as an intimate friend, and persuade the fallen minister to attend an important question in the House of Lords. ( I have irrevocably determined/ Towiishend answered, ' no more to engage in politics. I recollect that Lord Cowper, though a staunch Whig, was betrayed by personal pique and party-resentment to throw himself into the arms of the Tories, and even to support principles which tended to serve the Jacobites. I know that I am extremely warm, and I am apprehensive that, if I should attend the House of Lords, I may be hurried away by my temper and my personal animosities to adopt a line of conduct which in my cooler moments I may regret/ Whatever may be thought of Lord Cowper's conduct, the highest praise is certainly due to Townshend's, and he deserves to be cele- brated in history as one of the very few who, after tasting high power, and when stirred by sharp provocation, have cherished their principles more than their resentments, and rather chosen them- selves to fall into obscurity than the public affairs into confusion. Let him who undervalues this praise compute whether he can find many to deserve it ! " HORACE WALPOLE, brother of the great minister, was educated on the foundation, and went to King's in 1698. In 1706 he accompanied General Stanhope to Barcelona, as private secretary ; and, in 1708, went as Secretary of an embassy to the Emperor of Germany. In 1720 he was appointed Secretary to the Duke of Grafton, Viceroy of Ireland. In 1723 he went as Ambassador to Paris, where he resided till 1727. In 1733 he was sent with pleni- potentiary powers to the States-General of Holland. In 1756 he was created a peer of England, by the title of Lord Walpole of Wotterton. According to his nephew, he was a very feeble Mene- laus to the ministerial Agamemnon. But, according to Coxe and some other authorities, the Gravis hasta minoris Atridce was wielded with considerable effort in the political conflicts of his age. Lord Walpole died in February, 1757. There are several Etonians of this century who acquired distinc- tion as churchmen and scholars, whom I have not yet spoken of, but I must not omit in this chapter. First, I will revert to JOHN HALES. 199 THE EVER MEMORABLE JOHN HALES. SUCH was the title given by his friends and contemporaries to a learned, ingenious, pious and kind-hearted man, who became a Fellow of Eton in 1613. The sounding title of " ever memorable," applied to one whose works now seldom find a reader, and whose name is rarely mentioned by any modern writer, reminds one of the epithets " Angelic," " Seraphic," " Irrefragable," and the like, which were so liberally bestowed on the once idolised but now neglected Schoolmen. In truth, the reputation of Hales in his own age seems to have been due not so much to any proof of gigantic genius or stupendous learning, as to pleasing powers of conversation, and affability of temper, combined with a fair share of natural ability and an unusual share of industrious energy. Every age has its John Hales. Almost every circle of learned and able men comprises an individual whom all the rest agree in liking for the personal charm of his society, and whose opinion they all respect on account of its certain good taste and fairness. Such a man is sure to have his literary merits eulogised to an extent which after-ages wonder at, and is often in his lifetime freely invested with a pre-eminence above those, up to whose level the judgment of posterity in vain seeks justification for raising him. Hales's life was almost throughout retired and academic, but there are some passages in it which may be read with interest and sympathy, though none of them arrest our attention either by singularity or general importance. Hales was born at Bath in 1584. After leaving the grammar- school of that city, he was entered a scholar of Corpus Christi College, Oxford. At that university he was distinguished for his learning, and particularly by his knowledge of Greek. Sir Henry Savile, then Warden of Merton, noticed Hales, and through his influence, Hales was elected a Fellow of Merton in 1605. In 1612 he was made its university Greek Professor. In 1613, Savile, who had become Provost of Eton, exerted his influence at that college in Hales's favour, and Hales was made a Fellow of Eton in 1613. Hales passed many happy years in this college, respected by all who knew him for his erudition and integrity, and beloved for his 200 JOHN HALES. cheerfulness and amiability. From the range of his reading and the readiness of his memory he is said to have been called " the Walking Library ;" and he was intimately acquainted not only with the scholars and divines, but also with many of the poets and nobility of his time. Whenever the Court was at Windsor, Hales's society was eagerly sought for by a brilliant throng, who valued his conversation not only on account of Hales's learning, but on account of his extensive acquaintance with modern litera- ture and the fine arts, and the accuracy of his judgment on such matters. Hales had also some fame as a poet, as appears from Sir John Suckling's Session of the Poets. " Hales sat by himself," &c. In 1618 Hales accompanied Sir Dudley Carlton, Ambassador to the Hague, as his Chaplain. Hales's intercourse with the Dutch divines is said to have modified his tenets on some doctrinal points ; and, on his return, some careless expressions which he had let fall having been spitefully repeated with the customary addi- tions and embellishments, he incurred the suspicion of a leaning towards Socinianism. A small tract on Schism, which he wrote for his friend Chillingworth in 1636, was surreptitiously circulated, and some passages in it, when viewed through the medium of a pre-existing prejudice against the author, seemed to favour this suspicion. Hales at once sought and obtained an interview with Archbishop Laud, whom he satisfied of his orthodoxy, and through whose favour he was appointed to a Canonry of Windsor in 1642. Hales had previously declined the Archbishop's offer of prefer- ment, but on this being pressed on him he judged that it would be disrespectful to refuse it. It was for a short time that he held it ; for on the Civil War breaking out, Hales was soon ejected from his canonry. The story of his subsequent persecutions has a local as well as a personal interest, and I therefore quote it in the words of the old Biography : " About the time of the Archbishop's death, he retired from his lodgings in the college into a private chamber at Eton, where he remained for a quarter of a year unknown to any, and spent in that time only sixpence a week, living only upon bread and beer ; and as he had formerly fasted from Tuesday night to Thursday night, so in that time of his retirement he abstained from his bread and water; and when he heard that the Archbishop was murdered, he wished that his own head had been taken off instead JOHN HALES. 201 of his Grace's. He continued in his fellowship at Eton, though refusing the Covenant, nor complying in anything with the times ; but was ejected upon his refusal to take the Engagement, and Mr. Penwarden put into his room, to whom he gave a remarkable proof of the steadiness of his principles with regard to the public ; and to a gentleman of the Sedley family in Kent he gave another no less remarkable proof of the steadiness of his temper with regard to a private and studious life. In this resolution he retired to the house of a gentlewoman near Eton about a year after his ejection, accepting of a small salary with his diet to instruct her son ; here he officiated as chaplain, performing the service accord- ing to the Liturgy of the Church of England; and Dr. Henry King, the suffering Bishop of Chichester, being at the same house with several of his relations, they formed a kind of college there. But this retirement, which must in his present circumstances needs have been very agreeable to him, he was not suffered to enjoy long ; for upon a declaration by the State, prohibiting all persons to harbour malignants, i. e., Royalists, he left that family, not- withstanding the lady assured him that she would readily undergo all the danger which might ensue by entertaining him. His last retirement was to a lodging in Eton, at the house of a person whose husband had been his servant. Here he was entertained with great care and respect, but being now destitute of every other means of supporting himself, he sold a great part of his valuable library to a bookseller in London for 700/. However, though his fortune was much broken by his sufferings, yet the current story of his being reduced to extreme necessity appears by his will not to be well grounded. He was not long sick, about a fortnight, and then not very ill ; but discoursed with all his friends as freely as in his health 'till within half an hour before his death, which happened on the 19th of May, 1656, being aged seventy-two years ; he dyed in his last-mentioned lodging, and the day after was buried, according to his own desire, in Eton College church- yard, where a monument was erected over his grave by Mr. Peter Curwen." The greater part of Hales's works was collected and published by Pearson (afterwards Bishop of Chester) in 1658. They are entitled The Golden Remains of the Ever Memorable Mr. John Hales, of Eton College. The volume consists principally of sermons, which display sincere piety and varied though not very well 202 JOHN HALES. arranged erudition. That against duelling seems, so far as I am a judge, the best among them. Of the other works, the best is On the Method of Reading History. There are some very sensible observations in this, especially as to the necessity of combining a good knowledge of geography and chronology with historical studies. Pearson wrote a preface to this book, in which he highly eulogises his friend, from which I will quote a few passages : " Mr. John Hales, sometime Greek Professor "of the University of Oxford, long Fellow of Eaton College, and at last also Prebendary of Windsore, was a man, I think, of as great a sharpness, quick- ness, and subtility of wit, as ever this, or perhaps any nation bred. His industry did strive, if it were possible, to equal the largeness of his capacity, whereby he became as great a master of polite, various, and universal learning, as ever yet conversed with books. Proportionate to his reading was his meditation, which furnished him with a judgment beyond the vulgar reach of man, built upon unordinary notions, raised out of strange observations and com- prehensive thoughts within himself. So that he really was a most prodigious example of an acute and piercing wit, of a vast and unlimited knowledge, of a severe and profound judgment. " Although this may seem, as in itself it truly is, a grand elogium, yet I cannot esteem him less in any thing which belongs to a good man, then in those intellectual perfections; and had he never understood a letter, he had other ornaments sufficient to indear him. For he was of a nature (as we ordinarily speak) so kind, so sweet, so courting all mankind, of an affability so prompt, so ready to receive all conditions of men, that I conceive it near as easie a task for any one to become so knowing, as so obligeing. " As a Christian, none was more ever acquainted with the nature of the Gospel, because none more studious of the knowledge of it, or more curious in the search, which being strengthened by those great advantages before mentioned, could not prove otherwise than highly effectual. He took indeed to himself a liberty of judgeing, not of others, but for himself: and if ever any man might be allowed in these matters to judge, it was he who had so long, so much, so advantageously considered, and which is more, never could be said to have had the least worldly design in his determinations. He was not only most truly and strictly just in his secular transactions, most exemplary, meek, and humble, not- BISHOPS BARROW AND FLEETWOOD. 203 withstanding his perfections, but beyond all example charitable, giving unto all, preserving nothing but his books, to continue his learning and himself/' ISAAC BARROW, uncle of the famous Isaac Barrow, was educated at Peterhouse, Cambridge ; he became one of the Fellows, but was ejected by the Presbyterians in 1643. He then went to Oxford, where he was made one of the chaplains of New College. On the surrender of Oxford to the parliamentary army, Barrow, like others of the English clergy, underwent great troubles and privations, being obliged to shift from place to place, and seek a temporary refuge from the arrest and imprisonment with which he was threatened. After the Restoration he was replaced in his Fellowship at Peterhouse; and on the 12th of July, 1660, he was made a Fellow of Eton College. In 1663 he was made Bishop of the Isle of Man, and was in the next year made by the Earl of Derby, Governor of that island. He resided there for several years, during which time he was a great benefactor to the inha- bitants. He gave or procured endowments for the clergy of the isle, and obliged each of them to open a school in his respective parish, for which a stipend was paid by the Bishop himself. He was made Bishop of St. Asaph in 1669, and conferred many benefits on that diocese. He died in 1680. BISHOP FLEETWOOD was of the ancient family of the Fleet- woods of Lancashire. He was born in 1656. He was at Eton for some years prior to 1675, the date when he became a scholar of King's. He was appointed one of King William's chaplains soon after 1688, and he also was preferred to the rectory of St. Austin's in the City, and the rectorship of St. Dunstan's in the West. In 1691 he published a collection of ancient Pagan and Christian monumental inscriptions, entitled " Inscriptionum Antiquarum Sylloge." In 1692 he published a " Plain Method of Christian Devotion," translated from Jurieu. This work proved so popular that it ran through twenty-seven editions in little more than half a century. About 1703 Fleetwood resigned all his preferments in London, and retired to a small rectory which he held in Buckinghamshire. In this retirement he pursued the study of antiquities, drew up his " Chronicon Preciosum," containing an account of English money, and the price of corn and other commodities for the pre- ceding six hundred years. 204 BISHOPS WADDINGTON AND HARE. On the death of Beveridge, in 1706, Fleetwood was elevated to the see of St. Asaph, but he was not consecrated until June, 1708. Upon the death of Bishop Moore, in 1714, he was translated to the see of Ely, in which he continued till his death in 1723. Fleet- wood left behind him the reputation of a good scholar, an accom- plished antiquary, and an eloquent preacher. One of his best known publications is his " Vindication of the Thirteenth Chapter to the Romans." BISHOP WADDINGTON left Eton for King's in 1687. He after- wards returned to Eton as a Fellow in 1720. He was one of George the First's chaplains, and was promoted to the see of Winchester in 1724. He retained his Fellowship, holding it in commendam. He died in 17 31. FRANCIS HARE, who became a scholar of King's in 1688, is said to have been celebrated while at Eton for the brilliancy of his scholarship, and particularly for the beauty of his Latin verses. After he had become a Fellow of King's, the Duke of Marlborough made him private tutor to his only son, the Marquis of Blandford. Marlborough afterwards made Hare Chaplain- General to the English army. By this connexion with the Great Duke, Hare was led to turn his thoughts to politics, and to defend his patron from the calumnious attacks which grew so frequent against him, when Queen Anne's favour began to fail the Whigs, and Harley and Bolingbroke were struggling to repossess themselves of office. Hare first appeared, as an author, in defending the war and the measures of the Whig administration. His writings on these sub- jects were chiefly published before the year 1712. He wrote "The Barrier Treaty . vindicated," and also a treatise in four parts, entitled " The Allies and the late Ministry, defended against France and the present Friends of France." These tracts were serviceable to the war interest, in opposition to the strictures of Swift and the efforts of the Tory party. Tindal often refers to them in his continuation of Eapin, as valuable historical documents respecting that period. In the discharge of his official duties, Hare followed the army to Flanders ; but how long he remained there, or when he resigned his station as Chaplain-General, does not appear. Soon after the publication of his political pieces, we find him advanced to the Deanery of Worcester, and engaging with great warmth as the BISHOP HARE. 205 coadjutor of Sherlock, Potter, Snape, and others, in the famous Bangorian Controversy. Hoadly singled out Hare from among the throng of his adversaries, and the conflict between these two was carried on with acrimony. In the year 1727 Dr. Hare was advanced to the Bishopric of St. Asaph, having been previously removed from the Deanery of Worcester to that of St. Paul's. He was translated to the see of Chichester in 1731, which, together with the Deanery of St. Paul's, he retained till his death. During his residence at the university, and for some time after- wards, a warm friendship subsisted between him and Dr. Bentley. Whenhewent intoHolland as Chaplain-General of the army,Bentley put into his hands a copy of his notes and emendations to Menander and Philemon, to be delivered to Burmann, the cele- brated professor at Leyden. Bentley also dedicated to Hare his " Remarks on the Essay of Free-thinking," which essay was supposed to have been written by Collins, formerly Hare's pupil, but with whom neither Hare nor any other member of the Church could feel any possible sympathy. Hare was much gratified by the compliment paid him by Bentley, and for some time a warm friendship existed between these two learned men, which was at last broken off and converted into the usual " Odium literarium" in consequence of their both editing the same author, and quarrelling over their notes and readings. Bishop Hare was a profound Hebrew scholar ; and the work on which he probably bestowed more pains than on any other, was his system of metres in Hebrew poetry, first published in connexion with the Hebrew Psalms, divided in conformity with his notion of their measures. Bishop Hare was the first English scholar who entered deeply into the text question of the presence or absence of metre in the poetic parts of the Old Testament. Bishop Lowth opposed Hare's theory in a work in which he did ample justice to Hare's learning and ability. He says of Hare's hypothesis, that "the arguments advanced in its favour appeared so conclusive to some persons of great erudition, as to persuade them that the learned prelate had fortunately revived the knowledge of the true Hebrew versification, after an oblivion of more than two thousand years, and that he had established his opinion by such irresistible proofs, as to place it beyond the utmost efforts of controversy." 206 BISHOP MONCK AND PROVOST ROUS. Lowth is generally considered to have completely refuted Hare on this subject, though the opinions of the latter have since found a few adherents. Bishop Hare died in 1740. His works were collected and published in 1746, in four volumes octavo. He was a man of exemplary personal character, and of undoubted zeal for the promotion of piety and religious knowledge. Nor can the eulogy of Blackall on him be deemed exaggerated, who thus sums up his character, ' He was a sound critic, a consummate scholar, and a bright ornament of the Church and nation/ (Cunningham's Biography. Chalmers's Biog. Diet.) BISHOP MONCK, brother to the celebrated General of that name, was Provost of Eton for about a year after the Restoration. He had been educated at Wadham College, Oxford, and had been rector of Plymtree in Devonshire, and Kilhampton, Cornwall. He was made Bishop of Hereford in the same year in which he received his Provostship ; but he only filled his high station for a twelvemonth, dying in December, 1661. He was honoured with a funeral in Westminster Abbey. Eton, and its sister foundation of King's, had their share of the troubles which overspread England from 1640 to 1660. But, though individuals suffered, the College escaped without permanent injury. Generally speaking, the Etonians seem to have been on the side of royalty, and "Killed in battle for the King" is a common affix to the names in the Registrum regale in the early part of the century. Eton probably owed her immunity from spoliation to the exertions of THOMAS Rous, who was made her Provost in 1643. Rous had been educated as a commoner at Broadgate Hall, (now Pembroke College,) Oxford. He sat in the House of Commons as member for Truro for thirty years. He was Speaker of the notorious Barebones Parliament. It is recorded to his credit, that he acted with liberality and kindness to his ejected predecessor, and to several other clergymen of the English Church. Rous is noted by Walker in his " History of Independency," as among the more prominent of the Independents who obtained pre- ferments : he received, Walker observes, the Provostship of Eton, worth 800Z. a year, and a lease from the College worth 600/. a year more. He had, therefore, substantial reasons for endeavouring to preserve the College ; and happily, he had influence enough to BARD AND MASON. 207 preserve it. He was appointed one of Cromwell's council, and placed at the head of the board of " Tryers." When Cromwell created an " Upper House," Rous was one of those he called to a seat in it. Rous was greatly disliked by the royalists, by whom he was styled as Wood mentions the " Illiterate Jew of Eton." But their epithet was a mere term of unreasonable abuse, as Rous was a very learned man, and had published several works, which, if deficient in taste and questionable in doctrine, showed certainly abundance of erudition. Rouse founded three Scholarships, now worth 307. per annum, to be supplied from superannuated Eton Scholars, should none of his own kin apply within fifty days. He died Jan. 7, 1658. There are two more Etonians who became distinguished during the civil troubles of this country, whose names I will mention. The biographical notice affixed to one of them in the Alumni Etonenses is worth quoting, both for the singularity of the inci- dents which it narrates, and for the quaintness with which it narrates them. " HENRY BARD, son of George Bard, Vicar of Staines in Middle- sex; while he was yet scholar of his college, he went to Paris, without the knowledge of his friends. Afterwards he travelled into France, Germany, Italy, Turkey, Palestine, Egypt, and Arabia, and sent a long account of his travels to his contemporary and fellow-collegian, CHARLES MASON. After his return he lived expensively, as he had done before, without any visible income, and gave a fair copy of the Alcoran, which he had brought from Egypt for the purpose, to King's College Library. He is supposed to have taken it from a mosque in Egypt, which being valued but at 20/., he remarked that he was sorry he had ventured his neck for it. His person was robust and comely, and on the eve of the Rebellion, retiring to King Charles the First at York, and recom- mending himself to the notice of the Queen for his knowledge of the languages, he had the commission of a Colonel given him; and was afterwards Governor of Camdcn House, in Gloucestershire, and then of Worcester; the former of which he burnt when he left it. On the 22nd of November, 1613, he received the honour of knighthood, and was soon afterwards created Baron of Bombry, and Viscount Bellamont in Ireland, July 8, 1645. He was after- wards taken prisoner in an unsuccessful battle ; and wrote to the Parliament, telling them that he had not taken up arms for 208 ASCHAM AND COLLINS. religion, (for then there were so many, that he knew not which to profess,) nor for the laws, but to re-establish the King on his throne ; and therefore seeing that the time was not yet come, he desired to be discharged, that he might leave the country ; which was granted him. After the death of King Charles the First, he was sent by King Charles the Second, then an exile, Ambassador to the Emperor of Persia, upon hopes of great assistance of money from that Court, in consideration of great services done to the Persians by English ships at Ormus ; but, being overtaken in his travels in that country by a whirlwind, was choked by the sands. He died a Roman Catholic, leaving behind him a widow, not so rich, but upon her petition after the Restoration, she was relieved by King's College, and two daughters, who were of his religion, one of which was afterwards the mistress of Prince Rupert." The same work thus records the fate of ANTHONY ASCHAM, who left Eton for King's in 1643 : " He was a favourer of the Parlia- ment, by whose authority he was appointed tutor to James, Duke of York, afterwards James the Second. In 1648 he published " A Discourse, wherein is examined what is particularly lawful during the concussions and revolutions of Government," &c. He was appointed Resident to Spain in the latter end of the year 1649, and arriving at Madrid in June following, had an apartment in the palace, where he was murdered. Six English gentlemen went to his chambers, and two of them staying at the bottom of the stairs, and two at the top, the other two entered the room, one of which advanced to the table, where Ascham and his interpreter were sitting, and pulling off his h'at, said, " Gentlemen, I kiss your hands ; pray, which is the Resident ? " Upon which the Resi- dent rising, the other took him by the hair, and with a dagger gave him five stabs, of which he died. As the interpreter in con- fusion was retreating, the other four despatched him. One of them suffered capital punishment for the crime, the rest were either pardoned or escaped. According to the account in Thurloe, Ascham was murdered at an inn, before the orders came for his removal into the palace. I have mentioned the first English ambassador to Russia in speaking of Dr. Fletcher in the last chapter. I may now name another Etonian and Kingsman who visited and described that country. This was SAMUEL COLLINS, who left Eton for King's in 1634. He studied medicine, and was a Member of the College of ]'];<> VOSTS MURRAY AND STEWARD. 209 Physicians in London. Afterwards, by the favour of the visitors of the university, he was admitted into New College, Oxford, and incorporated A. M. in that university in 1650. He afterwards travelled abroad, and resided at the Great Czar's Court of Moscow for the space of nine years, and wrote " The History of the Present State of Russia, in a Letter written to a Friend in London. Lond. 1671." The great additions made to the College buildings by Provost Allestree have been already noticed. Provost Godolphin, uncle to the celebrated minister of that name, was also a great benefactor to the College. The nourishing condition of Eton in Sir Henry Wotton's time has been alluded to in the memoir of Sir Henry and in that of Boyle. During the latter part of this century the school fully recovered from its temporary depression during the time of the civil troubles. There is an amusing account in Pepys's Diary of a visit which that delightful old gossip paid to Eton. He had been with a friend and his wife to Windsor, and thence they went to Eton. " At Eton," says Pepys, " I left my wife in the coach, and he and I to the College, and there find all mighty fine. The school good, and the custom pretty of boys cutting their names in the shuts of the window when they go to Cambridge, by which many a one hath lived to see himself a Provost and Fellow, that hath his name in the window standing. To the hall, and there find the boys verses, ' De Peste ;' it being their custom to make verses at Shrovetide. I read several, and very good they were better, I think, than ever I made when I was a boy, and in rolls as long and longer than the whole hall by much. Here is a picture of Venice hung up, and a monument made of Sir H. Wotton's giving it to the College. Thence to the porter's, and in the absence of the butler, and did drink of the College beer, which is very good : and went into the back fields to see the scholars play. And to the chapel, and there saw, among other things, Sir H. Wotton's stone, with this epitaph " Pepys then quotes the inscription on Sir Henry's tomb, (men- tioned above,) and concludes with criticising the stonecutter's orthography. The Provosts of this century, besides those whose memoirs have been given, were THOMAS MURRAY, a layman, who had been tutor to Charles the First. RICHARD STEWARD, who was Commoner of 210 PROVOSTS. Magdalen Hall in 1608, Fellow of All Souls' in 1613, Prebendary of Worcester Cathedral in 1628, Dean of Chichester in 1634, Clerk of the Closet, and Prebendary of Westminster, in 1638, Dean of St. Paul's in 1641, and of the Chapel Royal; afterwards Dean of Lincoln, and Prolocutor of the Lower House of Convocation. He was a Commissioner for Ecclesiastical matters at the treaty of Uxbridge in January 1644. He was deprived of all his prefer- ments by the Parliament, and retired to Paris, where Charles the Second visited him, after his escape from the battle of Worcester. He died there Nov. 14, 1651. NICHOLAS LOCKYER, of New Inn Hall, Oxford; Fellow of Eton, Jan. 21, 1649. Elected Provost, Jan. 14, 1658 ; of which he was deprived soon after the Restoration. He had been chaplain to Oliver Cromwell, and often preached before the Parliament. He died in 1684. JOHN MEREDITH, of All Souls' College, Oxford, and Fellow there. Fellow of Eton, April 22, 1648. Rector of Stamford Rivers, county of Essex ; Master of Wigston's Hospital at Leicester. After the Restoration, he was elected Warden of All Souls'. Died July 16, 1665. Buried in All Souls' College chapel. ZACHARY CRADOCK, of Queen's College, Cambridge. Chaplain in Ordinary to the King ; Canon Residentiary of Chichester in 1669; Fellow of Eton, Dec. 2, 1671. Died Oct. 1695. HENRY GODOLPHIN, Fellow of All Souls' College, Oxford ; Fel- low of Eton, April 14, 1677 ; Canon Residentiary of St. Paul's ; Dean of St. Paul's in 1707. Died Jan. 29, 1732. CHAPTER IV. Lord Chatham Lord Camdcn Lord Lyttelton Lord Holland Sir C. H. Williams Fielding Gray Broome West Jacob Bryant Horace Walpole Marquis of d'ranby- Sir W. Draper Charles James Fox Lord North Lord Sandwich Sir Joseph Bankes Lord Cornwallis Marquis of Wellesley Lord Howe Canning Windham Whitbread Anstcy Steevcns Person Sir J. Mansfield Sir Vicary Gibbs Lord Grey Lord Grenville Lord Holland Archbishop Tenison Bishop Lloyd Simeon, &c., &c. LORD CHATHAM. WILLIAM PITT, first Earl of Chatham, was born on the 15th November, 1708, in the parish of St. James's, Westminster. He was the second son of Robert Pitt, Esq., of Boconnoc, near Lost- withiel, in Cornwall, by Harriet Villiers, sister of the Earl of Grandison (an Irish peer), and the grandson of Thomas Pitt, governor of Madras, the possessor of the celebrated Pitt diamond, which, according to an account published by himself, he bought in India for 24,000/., and sold to the French king for 135,000?. Pitt was sent to Eton at an early age, and was educated there till his eighteenth year. Dr. Bland was then head-master, and is said to have discerned and highly valued the high qualities of young Pitt. He was there eminent among a group, every member of which, in manhood, acquired celebrity. George (afterwards Lord) Lyttelton, Henry Fox (afterwards Lord Holland), Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, Henry Fielding, Charles Pratt (afterwards Lord Camden), were among Pitt's young friends and competitors at Eton. His biographer, Thackeray, justly remarks, that " among the many recommendations which will always attach to a public system of education, the value of early emulation, the force of example, the abandonment of sulky and selfish habits, and the acquirement of generous, manly dispositions, are not to be over- looked. All these I believe to have had weight in forming the character of Lord Chatham." He was admitted a gentleman commoner at Trinity College, Oxford, in 172(5. 212 rilATliAM. Pitt was attacked, even in boyhood, by hereditary gout; and being thus often debarred from sharing in the ordinary sports and exercises of his age, he devoted those periods of compulsory inaction to regular and earnest reading, and thus made his physical weakness minister to his intellectual strength. He had the advan- tage of an able and attentive guide to his studies in his father, during his school vacations ; and Lord Mahon informs us that it may be stated, on the authority of the present Lord Stanhope, that "Pitt, being asked to what he principally ascribed the two qualities for which his eloquence was most conspicuous, namely, the lucid order of his reasonings, and the ready choice of his words, answered, that he believed he owed the former to an early study of the Aristotelian logic, and the latter to his father's prac- tice in making him every day, after reading over to himself some passages in the classics, translate it aloud and continuously into English prose." Pitt must also have diligently and successfully cultivated, while a boy, the art of Latin versification. This is evident from the copy of Latin hexameters on the death of George the First, written by him in the first year after he went to Oxford. They may be seen in Thackeray's Life of Pitt, near the beginning of the first volume. I am persuaded that the continued exercise of com- position in Latin verse is one of the most valuable for forming an accurate taste, and for giving an artistic skill in the arrangement of ideas, and in the selection of phraseology, that can possibly be pursued. To write Latin verse elegantly and correctly, implies that the writer has not only read, but that he is perfectly familiar with the best models of the Augustan age. To acquire eminence in this exercise, the best parts of Virgil, Homer, and Ovid must be known by heart the memory and the feeling must be so imbued with their letter and their spirit, that the noble and beautiful thoughts, and the melodious lines of these great poets will suggest themselves to our recollection at the least hint, though long years may have passed away since we last read them. It is the best possible discipline for giving the imagination and the judgment that tone and temper which the epithet " classical" perfectly describes, and which no other word or phrase can express. Whether our modern Latin verses have original poetical worth or not, is quite another matter, though it is the sole test by which many people most absurdly try the utility of the exercise. Latin versification LORD CHATHAM. 213 is valuable, not on account of its products, but of its process; though it is not to be conceded that no modern Latin poetry deserves praise, even when examined with reference to the natura naturata, and not to the natura ttaturans. The Muses Etonenses contains many poems which command our admiration, even when we forget the date and place of their com- position, and try them by the same canons which we apply to the great classical authors themselves. Pitt's Latin verses attest his devotion to the best Augustan writers ; and in every respect and for every purpose he was an assiduous and a worthy student of the classics. Lord Mahon says that Demosthenes was his favourite among them; and we learn his opinion of others by the recommendations which he gave in after-life for the studies of his second son, afterwards the celebrated minister. He then selected Thucydides as the first book for his son's reading ; and it appears, from allusions in his speeches, that the greatest of all histories, the Krij^a es det, was a constant subject of Lord Chatham's study and admiration. The other classic which Lord Chatham particularised for his son's attention, was Polybius, an historian not in general duly appreciated, and whose great characteristic may be said to be sound, practical common sense. Lord Chatham's own studies in youth were not pedantically limited to antiquity. He was a diligent reader of the best English authors, among whom he chose, as his chief models, Bolingbroke and Barrow. His high opinion of Bolingbroke's style has been mentioned in the memoir of that writer ; and Lord Chatham is said to have read some of Dr. Barrow's sermons so often, as to know them by heart. After leaving Oxford, Mr. Pitt (for it is best to speak of "the great Commoner " by his name as such, until he became the still greater Lord) made the customary tour of Europe. His patrimony, as a younger son, being small, he obtained, on his return, a cornetcy in the Blues. In 1735 he was returned to parliament for the family borough of Old Sarum. His principal friends and connexions were .at that time attached to Frederick Prince of "\Vales, and con- sequently in opposition to Sir Robert \Valpole. Pitt was thus naturally enlisted among the assailants of that minister ; and it is probable that his keen sensibility for England's honour made him estimate too highly the insults which this nation was then supposed 214- LORD CHATHAM. to be receiving from Spain, and for which Sir Robert was reluctant to declare war. Walpole' s habit of scoffing at all enthusiasm, and his contemptuous neglect of men of genius (subjects discussed in the preceding memoir of that minister) must also have gone far to alienate an ardent, youthful temperament, like that of Pitt. Pitt learned, in after-life, to appreciate, and had the candour to acknow- ledge, the solid merits of Walpole ; but it is not to be wondered at that he thought differently calidd juventd. Pitt made his first speech in the House on the 29th April, 1736, on Mr. Pulteney's motion for a congratulatory speech to the King, on the marriage of the Prince of Wales. The report which we possess of this speech can hardly be accurate ; but we know that the oration itself was highly eulogised by those on Pitt's side who heard it ; and it had the far more decisive honour of being fiercely resented by those against whom it was directed. They who listened to Pitt, felt at once that a spirit of the highest order was among them. Walpole instinctively recognised in him an adversary of the most formidable strength and the most fiery vehemence. While Pitt was speaking, the veteran minister is said to have muttered to those near him, " We must muzzle this terrible Cornet of Horse." Walpole thought that he could intimidate him. Pitt's personal circumstances were known to be far from affluent, and his regi- mental pay was not a matter of indifference to him. Walpole dis- missed the " terrible Cornet " from the army ; but he grievously mistook the man whom he had to deal with. Pitt's indignation was roused by the blow that was meant to tame him ; and he now attacked the minister and the Court with powers of oratory, such as had never before been witnessed in modern times, and which have never since been equalled. The meagre and inaccurate parliamentary reports of that period cannot give us even faithful sketches of Pitt's early speeches ; and even if we possessed most full and accurate reports of them, we should be unable, by perusing them, to appreciate their full effect. We must strive to call up and keep before our minds' eye, the personal image of him who delivered them. We must strive to comprehend and remember the magic of his voice, and the majestic grace of his gesture. "His voice was both full and clear; his lowest whisper was distinctly heard ; his middle tones were sweet, rich, and beautifully varied; when he elevated his voice to the highest pitch, the House was completely filled with the volume of LORD CHATHAM. 215 the sound. The effect was awful, except when he wished to cheer or animate ; he then had spirit-stirring notes that were perfectly irresistible. He frequently rose, on a sudden, from a very low to a very high key, but it seemed to be without effort." Such is the description of his voice by a contemporary. The outer man was in figure and in features worthy of the soul within. He had a tall and manly form, and the most careless spectator was struck with the grace and dignity of his deportment. His features were noble ; and his was an eye, which, his contem- poraries observe, was as powerful and significant as his words even in his latter years. " There was a grandeur in his personal appearance," says a writer, who speaks of him in his decline, " which produced awe and mute attention ; and though bowed by infirmity and age, his mind shone through the ruins of his body, armed his eye with lightning, and clothed his lip with thunder." " lie was born an orator," says Wilkes, " and from nature pos- sessed every outward requisite to bespeak respect, and even awe : a manly figure, with the eagle eye of the great Conde, fixed your attention, and almost commanded reverence the moment he appeared; and the keen lightning of his eye spoke the high respect of his soul before his lips had pronounced a syllable. There was a kind of fascination in his look when he eyed any one askance. Nothing could withstand the force of that contagion. The fluent Murray has faltered, and even Fox shrunk back appalled from an adversary ' fraught with fire unquenchable/ if I may borrow an expression of our great Milton." He was himself carefully solicitous as to his personal appearance and his action, which, according to Horace Walpole, was as studied and as successful as Garrick's. I think, with Lord Mahon, that there was too much straining after effort in his preparations for speaking, and his most elaborate orations were certainly his least effective. But, to quote the admirable language of the same histo- rian, " When without forethought, or any other preparation than those talents which nature had supplied and education cultivated, Chatham rose stirred to anger by some sudden subterfuge of corruption or device of tyranny then was heard an eloquence never surpassed either in ancient or in modern times. It was the highest power of expression ministering to the highest power of thought. Dr. Franklin declares that in the course of his life he hail seen sometimes eloquence without wisdom, and often wisdom 216 CHATHAM. without eloquence; in Lord Chatham only had he seen both united. Yet so vivid and impetuous were his bursts of oratory, that they seemed even beyond his own control, instead of his ruling them, they often ruled him, and flashed forth unbidden, and smiting all before them. As in the oracles of old, it appeared not he that spake, but the spirit of the deity within. In one debate, after he had just been apprised of an important secret of State, 'I must not speak to-night/ he whispered to Lord Shel- burne, ' for when once I am up, everything that is in my mind comes out. 5 " No man could grapple more powerfully with an argument ; but he wisely remembered that a taunt is, in general, of far higher popular effect, nor did he therefore disdain (and in these he stood unrivalled) the keenest personal invectives. His ablest adversaries shrunk before him, crouching and silenced. Neither the skilful and polished Murray, nor the bold and reckless Fox, durst encounter the thunderbolts which he knew how to launch against them ; and if these failed, who else could hope to succeed ? " But that which gave the brightest lustre, not only to the eloquence of Chatham, but to his character, was his loftiness and nobleness of soul. If ever there has lived a man in modern times, to whom the praise of a Roman spirit might be truly applied, that man, beyond all doubt, was William Pitt. He loved power but only as a patriot should, because he knew and felt his own energies, and felt also that his country needed them, because he saw the public spirit languishing, and the national glory declined, because his whole heart was burning to revive the oue, and to wreathe fresh laurels round the other. He loved fame but it was the fame that follows, not the fame that is run after, not the fame that is gained by elbowing and thrusting, and all the little arts that bring forward little men, but the fame that a minister at length will and must wring, from the very people whose preju- dices he despises, and whose passions he controls. The ends to which he employed both his power and his fame, will best show his object in obtaining them. Bred amongst too frequent examples of corruption ; entering public life at a low tone of public morals ; standing between the mock-patriots and the sneerers at patriotism between Bolingbroke and Walpole he manifested the most scrupulous disinterestedness, and the most lofty and generous purposes : he shunned the taint himself, and in time removed it LORD CHATHAM. 217 from his country. He taught British statesmen to look again for their support to their own force of character, instead of Court cabals or Parliamentary corruption. He told his fellow-citizens not as agitators tell them that they were wretched and oppressed, but that they were the first nation in the world ; and under his guidance they became so ! And, moreover, (I quote the words of Colonel Barre, in the House of Commons,) " he was possessed of the happy talent of transfusing his own zeal into the souls of all those who were to have a share in carrying his projects into execu- tion ; and it is a matter well known to many officers now in the House, that no man ever entered the Earl's closet who did not feel himself, if possible, braver at his return than when he went in." " Thus he stamped his own greatness on every mind that came in contact with it, and always successfully appealed to the higher and better parts of human nature." ' Such was his character ; and such was his oratory, both when the House of Commons heard him as Mr. Pitt, and when he charmed the House of Lords as Earl Chatham. It is remarked, and that by no favourable critic of his career, that " from his first appearance no ministry was able to withstand his avowed hos- tility." 2 We must endeavour to keep the image of the man steadily before us, as we proceed to trace what opponents he over- threw, and what elements of national power and prosperity he called into existence. Walpole resigned in the beginning of February, 1742; but his retirement did not bring Pitt into office. The King had conceived a violent prejudice against him, not only on account of the promi- nent and effective part he had taken in the general assault upon the late administration, but more especially in consequence of the strong opinions he had expressed on the subject of Hanover, and respecting the public mischiefs arising from George the Second's partiality to the interests of the Electorate. Lord Wilmington was the nominal head of the new administra- tion, which was looked on as little more than a weak continuation of Walpole's. The same character was generally given to Pelham's ministry, (Pclham succeeded Wilmington as Premier, on the death of the latter in 1743,) and Pitt soon appeared in renewed opposition to the Court. It was about this time that he received a Lord Ma] H in. Quarterly Review, loll). 218 l.olM) CHATHAM. creditable and convenient addition to his private fortune, which also attested his celebrity. In 1714, the celebrated Duchess of Maryborough died, leaving him a legacy " of 10,0007. on account of his merit in the noble defence he has made of the laws of England, to prevent the ruin of his country." Pitt was now at the head of a small but determined band of Opposition statesmen, with whom he was also connected by inter- marriages between members of their respective families and his own. These were Lord Cobham, the Grenvilles, and his school- fellow Lord Lyttelton. The genius of Pitt had made the opposi- tion of this party so embarrassing to the minister, that Mr. Pelham, the leader of the House of Commons, and his brother, the Duke of Newcastle, found it necessary to get rid of Lord Carteret, who- was personally most obnoxious to the attacks of Pitt, on " account of his supposed zeal in favour of the King's Hanoverian policy. Pitt's friends, Lyttelton and Grenville, were taken into the ministry, and the undoubted wish of the Pelhams was to enlist Pitt also among their colleagues. But " The great Mr. Pitt," says old Horace Walpole using in derision an epithet soon con- firmed by the serious voice of the country " the great Mr. Pitt insisted on being Secretary at War ;" but it was found that the King's aversion to him was insurmountable, and, after much reluc- tance and difficulty, his friends were persuaded to accept office without him, under an assurance from the Duke of Newcastle that " he should at no distant day be able to remove this prejudice from his Majesty's mind." Pitt concurred in the new arrangement, and promised to give his support to the remodelled administration. Accordingly in the principal, indeed in almost the only debate of the session, 1744-5, he spoke in favour of a continuance of the war in Flanders, as recommended by the minister. Pitt's " fulminating eloquence," as it was termed by one who heard it, quelled all ob- jections; and the session passed away without the ministry having any opposition to encounter. On the breaking out of the rebellion of 1745, Pitt energetically supported the ministry in their measures to protect the established government. George the Second's prejudices against him were, however, as strong as ever. At last a sort of compromise was effected. Pitt waived for a time his demand of the War Secretary- ship, and on the 22nd of February, 1740, he was appointed one of LORD CHATHAM. 219 the joint Vice-treasurers for Ireland ; and on the 6th of May fol- lowing he was promoted to the more lucrative office of Paymaster- General of the Forces. After each of these appointments he was re-elected for Old Sarum. In his office of Paymaster of the Forces, Pitt set an example as new as it was rare among statesmen of personal disinterestedness. He held what had hitherto been an exceedingly lucrative situation : for the Paymaster seldom had less than 100,OOOZ. in his hands, and was allowed to appropriate the interest of what funds he held to his own use. In addition to this it had been customary for foreign princes in the pay of England to allow the Paymaster of the Forces a pcr-centage on their subsidies. Pitt nobly declined to avail himself of these advantages, and would accept of nothing beyond his legal salary. This conduct earned him the public admiration and affection. Whatever inconsisten- cies might have been traceable in his political conduct were forgiven and forgotten, and he was looked on as a true patriot, who sought power for the. nation's good and not for his own lucre. In 1751 Pitt married Lady Hester, the sister of Lord Temple, and of George and James Grenville, with whom he had been politically connected. While this marriage increased Pitt's political importance, it proved also the source of unalloyed domestic happiness. No enemy of Pitt's ever ventured to call in question the purity of his private life. The pride which he showed in public, and which some called imperiousness, was wholly laid aside at home, and the severest of his recent critics admit of him " That he was the most powerful orator that ever illustrated and ruled the senate of this empire that for nearly half a century, he was not merely the arbiter of the destinies of his own country, but 'the foremost man in all the world' that he had an unpar- alleled grandeur and affluence of intellectual powers, softened and brightened by all the minor accomplishments that his ambition was noble his views instinctively elevated his patriot- ism all but excessive that in all the domestic relations of life he was exemplary and amiable a fine scholar, a finished gentleman, a sincere Christian one whom his private friends and servants loved as a good man, and all the world admired as a great one these are the praises which his contemporaries awarded, and which posterity has, with little diminution, confirmed." 3 3 Quarterly Ui.-ui.-w. June, 1840. 220 MUM) niATHAM. On the death of Henry Pelham, in 1751, his brother the Duke of Newcastle became first Lord of the Treasury. Pitt adhered to Newcastle for a time, but, irritated at the unfair and unconstitu- tional barrier which the King's personal dislike seemed to have created against his advancement, he began to assail the Premier and those members of the ministry, whom, like Murray, Pitt looked on as the instruments used to keep him under. Henry Fox (afterwards the first Lord Holland) was similarly disaffected towards Newcastle, and a common resentment against the Premier now united for a time these two statesmen, at other times so illus- trious as rivals, and between whose sons a rivalry still more cele- brated was to exist. Murray, the Attorney-General, was the only effective supporter of Newcastle in the House of Commons, and against Murray Pitt's fiercest thunders were now vollied. A Mr. Delaval, one of the ministerial members, had made a humorous and telling speech on an election petition against his own return, during which he kept the house in a continual roar of laughter. Fox, in one of his letters, thus records the effect with which Pitt, like a 0tos avb pirxavijs, appeared on the scene : " I did not come in till the close of the finest speech that ever Pitt spoke, and perhaps the most remarkable. " Mr. Wilkes, a friend it seems of Pitt's, petitioned against the younger Delaval, chosen at Berwick, on account of bribery only. The younger Delaval made a speech on his being thus attacked, full of wit, humour, and buffoonery, which kept the house in a continual roar of laughter. Mr. Pitt came down from the gallery, and took it up in his highest tone of dignity. He was astonished when he heard what had been the occasion of their mirth. Was the dignity of the House of Commons on so sure founda- tions that they might venture themselves to shake it ? had it not, on the contrary, been diminishing for years, till now we were brought to the very brink of the precipice, where, if ever, a stand must be made ? High compliments to the Speaker, elo- quent exhortations to Whigs of all conditions, to defend their attacked and expiring liberty, &c. 'unless you will degenerate into a little assembly, serving no other purpose than to register the arbitrary edicts of one too powerful subject.' Displeased, as well as pleased, allow it to be the finest speech that was ever made ; and it was observed that by his first two periods he brought the house to a silence and attention that you might have heard a pin drop." LORD CHATHAM. 221 According to another ear-witness, " This thunderbolt, thrown in a sky so long serene, confounded the audience. Murray crouched silent and terrified ; Legge scarce rose to say with great humility, that he had been raised solely by the Whigs, and if he fell, sooner or later, he should pride himself in nothing but in being a Whig." This speech was made on the 25th of March, 1754, and in another letter Fox thus records two other Philippics delivered by Pitt, on the 27th, ostensibly against Jacobitism but "in both speeches/' writes Fox, " every word was Murray, yet so managed that neither he nor any one else could or did take any public notice of it, or in any degree reprehend him. I sate next to Murray, who suffered for an hour/' We must remember how great and gifted a speaker Murray (afterwards Lord Mansfield) was, in order to appreciate the powers of Pitt, before whom Murray thus quailed. We must bear in mind the triumphs of Hector over others, when we contemplate his flight before Achilles. Newcastle succeeded in winning over Fox, but Pitt spurned the Premier's terms, and on the meeting of Parliament, in 1755, sup- ported the amendment on the address in one of the most power- ful speeches ever uttered within the walls of St. Stephen's. In the course of his harangue he compared the coalition of Fox and Newcastle to the junction of the Rhone and the Saone : " At Lyons," he said, " I was taken to see the place where the two rivers meet : the one gentle, feeble, and languid, yet of no depth/ the other a boisterous and impetuous torrent ; but different as they are, they meet at last ; and long," continued he, with bitter irony, "long may they continue united, to the comfort of each other, and to the glory, honour, and security of this nation ! " The amendment was rejected by a large majority ; and Pitt, Legge, and Grenville were immediately dismissed from office. When the unfortunate events of the hostilities with France had compelled Newcastle to give in his resignation, the King sent for Fox and authorised him to bring together a new administration in concert with Pitt ; but the latter pointedly refused to act with his old rival. The Duke of Devonshire proved a more successful 4 Lord Mahon well quotes Caesar's description of the Saone. " Flumen est Arar, quod per fines yEduorum et Sequanortim in Illindamim innuit ineredibili Icnitate, ita ut oculis in utram partem fluat, judicari non possit" (De Bell. Gall. lib. i. c. 12.) 222 LORD CHATHAM. negotiator with the haughty commoner, and Pitt became Secretary of State, and leader in the House of Commons. The administra- tion, however, proved very short-lived. The King could not over- come his antipathy to Pitt ; and within five months his Majesty abruptly sent Lord Temple his dismissal from the post he held of First Lord of the Admiralty, an act which was immediately followed, as must have been foreseen and designed, by Mr. Pitt's resignation. " It has often been alleged, without contradiction and some- times been urged as a reproach that Pitt, thus expelled from office, consented to accept a pension of 1000/. a year from the Crown. Some letters, however, which have hitherto remained unpublished, prove beyond all question that the sum thus received was no pension from the Crown, but only a gift of friendship from Lord Temple, who most earnestly pressed it, through his sister, on his brother-in-law's acceptance." These are Lord Mahon's words, and he gives, in the Appendix of his work, full authority for what he thus advances. At this period (1755 56) the national spirit of England, and her rank among European states, had sunk lower than it had ever been before, or has ever been since. Though the peace of Aix-la- Chapelle had not been formally put an end to, hostilities were going on between the French and English both in India and in North America ; and the speedy outbreak of open war at home was felt to be inevitable. All England's confidence and pride in her army had died away. Marlborough's victories were forgotten: and an ignominious cry was raised for Hanoverian troops and Hessian mercenaries to save us from the threatening wrath of France. Nor was our naval force much more to be relied on than our military. Under the feeble and jobbing system of Newcastle's administration, all departments of the government, from the Treasury, the War-office, the Admiralty, down to the most subordi- nate departments, were infected with the same paltry meanness and the same dishonest selfishness. The King of Prussia was our only continental ally; and while his military genius was as yet imperfectly known, his inferiority to his enemies in extent of territory, and amount of subject population, was a matter which even the silliest coward could calculate. During the winter of 1755, England was under the constant alarm of a French invasion. The country was continually agitated by accounts of the French LORD CHATHAM. 223 flotilla that was being equipped in the opposite harbours from Dunkirk to Brest ; and the inhabitant of the southern counties trembled when any number of sail appeared on the horizon. Pitt saw all this with the just indignation of an Englishman. "I want/' he exclaimed, " to call this country out of this enervate state, that 20,000 men from France could shake it." Provi- dentially for England that manly voice was raised, and was heard : nor does history show a stronger proof of the influence which one great genius can exert on its country and its age, than when England at the bidding of Pitt woke from her pusillanimous torpor to an unexampled career of energy and triumph ; when, to adopt the noble words of Milton, " The strong man arose from sleep and shook his invincible locks." The French armament which had been supposed to be destined for our own shores, attacked, in 1756, and captured the important island of Minorca, which we had retained since General Stanhope conquered it for us during the glorious wars of Queen Anne. Our fleet under Admiral Byng had failed to relieve the garrison, and the excitement in England caused by the loss of so valuable a possession, and by the discreditable inefficiency of our navy, was roused to the fiercest pitch. During this year of shame we were beaten in every part of the globe. The French took from us Oswega in the Western world ; we lost Calcutta in the East. Under such gloomy auspices did the Seven Years' War commence which was destined to leave England, at its close, elevated to the very zenith of her glory and prosperity. The voice of the nation called, trumpet-tongued, for Pitt to lead our councils : and in this posture of affairs Mr. Pitt was become, even in the opinion of the King himself, an inevitable necessity. The first project was to graft him on the old ministry, but he resolutely refused to take any part till the Duke of Newcastle should be removed. He likewise declined to act with Mr. Fox. Mr. Fox thereupon suddenly resigned the Duke, much offended with Fox, held on and attempted other arrangements ; but all fail- ing, he was himself (in November, 1756) obliged to abdicate, after having filled the offices of Secretary of State and First Lord of the Treasury for thirty-two years. The King had no alternative but Mr. Pitt and his friends. Mr. Pitt took for himself the office of Secretary of State. The Duke of Devonshire was placed at the head of the Treasury, Lord Temple became First Lord of the 221 L CHATHAM. Admiralty, Mr. Legge again Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Grenvillc, Treasurer of the Navy; and Pitt's other adherents received subordinate appointments. Pitt at once showed his countrymen that he had faith in them, and sent back the German auxiliaries. He organised a militia, which might at least serve to protect English homes at home : and he had the discernment and the magnanimity to convert the disaffected and lately rebellious Highlanders into loyal subjects and valiant defenders of King George's crown. He did this simply by showing that he trusted them, and thus enlisting their chivalrous and honourable feelings on the side of the government, which they once had openly opposed, but which they scorned ever to betray. Two Highland regiments were at once raised. Pitt many years afterwards looked back with honest pride to this measure, on which none but a man of genius would have ventured. " My lords, we should not want men in a good cause. I remember how I employed the very rebels in the service and defence of their country. They were reclaimed by this means ; they fought our battles ; they cheerfully bled in defence of those liberties which they had attempted to overthrow but a few years before ! " But from the very day when George the Second had reluctantly consented to admit Pitt as War Secretary into the ministry, there had existed a formidable combination of all the excluded politicians, aided by a steady purpose in the royal breast, to overthrow at the first possible moment the Devonshire Administration, of which Pitt was the virtual chief. The Duke of Cumberland added his influence to this secret but formidable opposition. He and the other intriguers urged the King to dismiss Lord Temple, who had made himself personally obnoxious by some ill-timed remarks about the Hanoverians being brought over by the late ministry to protect England. Temple's dismissal was, it was known, quite sure to cause Pitt's resignation. The time came for the Duke of Cumberland to set out to command the army assembled for the protection of Hanover, and he positively refused to go while Mr. Pitt and his friends continued in power. The King was easily persuaded to adopt the plans which the Duke suggested. Lord Temple and his Board of Admiralty were dismissed in the first days of April, 1757, and Lord Winchelsea and a new board appointed. It was expected that on this Mr. Pitt would have resigned; but he wisely determined " not to save his enemies any trouble, and MUM) CHATHAM. 225 attended his duty at Court with increased assiduity." He showed no symptom of retiring. Time pressed the day appointed for the Duke's departure was come, but he would not go till the ministry was changed and so, about a week after Lord Temple's removal, Mr. Pitt and Mr. Legge were also formally dismissed, even before any arrangement had been made to replace them. Nothing could exceed the indignation and ferment which Pitt's dismissal produced throughout the country. It was looked on as the certain precursor of national losses and disasters, com- pared to which the fall of Minorca would be trifling. The Common Council in London, and the various corporate bodies in all the other large cities and towns, met and voted strong resolutions, in which the thanks of the country were given to Pitt, and in which the Sovereign was earnestly and emphatically requested to call back to his councils the only statesman who was capable of saving the nation. Meanwhile the intriguers against Pitt were in consterna- tion and confusion. The Duke of Devonshire had formally notified that he only held office till his successor was appointed, and none of Pitt's enemies had the courage to stand forward. For nearly three months the country remained without a government, during which time the Court applied in succession to almost every section of party-men in the country, without being able to prevail upon any individual to undertake the management of affairs. At last, on the llth of June, Lord Mansfield received full powers from his Majesty to open negotiations with Mr. Pitt and the Duke of Newcastle ; with whom Pitt had formed an alliance, but on terms in which Pitt's superiority was fully recognised, and all risk was obviated of any national mischief ensuing from Newcastle's in- competency. The entire direction of the war and of foreign affairs was to be left in Pitt's hands, Newcastle confining himself to the strictly official business of the treasury, and even there his board was to be filled up with Pitt's own adherents. At last the minis- terial arrangements were completed; and on the 29th June, 1757, it was announced in the Gazette that the King had been pleased to re-deliver the seal of Secretary of State to Mr. Pitt. The Duke of Newcastle again became First Lord of the Treasury; Mr. Grenville, President of the Council ; Lord Temple was Privy Seal ; the Attorney-General, Henley (afterwards Lord Northington), became Lord Keeper of the Great Seal; and Pratt (afterwards Lord Camden), succeeded as Attorney-General. 226 LORD CHATHAM. " Thus, at last, after difficulty aiid delay, came into existence the first administration of Chatham the greatest and most glorious, perhaps, that England had ever yet known, an administration not always, indeed, free from haste or error in its schemes, and no doubt owing their success in part to the favour of Fortune and to the genius of Generals, but still, after every allowance that can be justly required, an administration pre-eminently strong at home and victorious abroad, an administration which even now is pointed at with equal applause by contending and opposite parties, eager to claim its principles as their own. How strange that at its outset nothing but ruin and disaster were foreseen and foretold ! No one trusted to the national spirit, or deemed what it might effect if vigorously roused and skilfully directed. Of all political observers then in England there were certainly none shrewder than Horace Walpole and Lord Chesterfield, and the language of both at this period is fraught with the deepest de- spondency. According to the former : ' It is time for England to slip her cables and float away to some unknown ocean ! ' ' Who- ever is in, or whoever is out/ writes Chesterfield, ' I am sure we are undone both at home and abroad : at home, by our increasing debt and expenses ; abroad, by our ill-luck and incapacity. . . . "We are no longer a nation. I never yet saw so dreadful a prospect.' ''' The details of Pitt's biography for the four next glorious years are the details of the history not of Europe merely but of the world. In Germany, in the East Indies, in Canada, in Africa, and on every sea, our flag was triumphant, when upheld by the Generals and Admirals whom Pitt sent forth to conquer. With Pitt at the head of our councils, every man employed in England's service, from the highest rank to the humblest, felt the inspiration of a nobler nature, and forgot all thoughts save of his own duty and England's honour. Even in those nests of sloth and abuse the government offices, Pitt's energy and determination wrought miracles. To those who told him that his orders could not be executed within the time specified, he would peremptorily reply, " It must be done," and the mandate was obeyed. He once asked an officer who had been intrusted with the command of an important expedition, how many men he should require: "Ten thousand," was the reply. 5 Lord Mahon, vol. iv. p. 1 62. LORD CHATHAM. 227 " Take twenty thousand/' said Pitt, " and be answerable with your life for your success." The zeal of the Minister was everywhere crowned with success. In July, 1758, Louisburg fell ; Goree, Guadaloupe, Ticonderago, Niagara, Quebec, successively yielded to British prowess ; Boscawen defeated the French fleet off Lagos ; Hawke vanquished the Brest fleet under Conflans ; Chandernagore yielded to Clive, Pondicherry to Coote ; the allied arms triumphed at Minden ; and the combined powers of France, Russia, and Austria, failed before the genius of Pitt. " Nor did our trade and manufactures languish amidst this blaze of military fame. It is the peculiar honour of Chatham, as may yet be seen inscribed on the stately monument which the citizens of London have raised him in Guildhall, that under his rule they found COMMERCE UNITED WITH AND MADE TO FLOURISH BY WAR. Still less can it be said that these wonders had grown altogether from harmony and concord at home. It was the just vaunt of Chatham himself in the House of Commons, that success had given us unanimity, not unanimity success. Yet never had there been a more rapid transition from languor and failure to spirit and conquest. Never yet had the merits of a great Minister in pro- ducing that transition been more fully acknowledged in his life- time. The two Houses, which re-assembled in November, met only to pass Addresses of Congratulation and Votes of Credit. So far from seeking to excuse or to palliate the large supplies which he demanded, Pitt plumed himself upon them ; he was the first to call them enormous, and double any year's of Queen Anne. ' To push expense/ he said openly upon the army estimates, 'is the best economy/ " 6 In " Butler's Reminiscences" there is recorded, on the authority of an ear- witness, an anecdote which strongly shows the ascendancy which Pitt at this time wielded over the House of Commons. On one occasion, after he had concluded a speech, to which no one seemed to offer any reply, he was about to leave the House, and had already proceeded as far as the lobby, when a member started up and said, "I rise to reply to the Right Honourable Gentleman." Pitt caught the words, stopped short, and turning round fixed his eye on the orator, who at that steady and scornful glance sate down again silent and abashed. Pitt, who was suffering from gout, then 6 Lord Motion's History, vol. iv. p. 279. 228 LORD CHATHAM. slowly returned to his seat, repeating, as if to himself, in a low but distinct tone, Virgil's lines : " At Danaum proceres Agamemnoniaeque phalanges, Ut videre virura fulgentiaque arma per umbras, Ingenti trepidare raetu : pars vertere terga, Ceu quondam petiere rates : pars tollere vocem Exiguam, inceptus clamor frustratur Mantes." Mr. Butler says that he asked his informant whether the House did not laugh at the ridiculous figure of the poor member. " No, sir," he replied, " we were all too much awed to laugh." ' A similar anecdote is recorded of Mirabeau, in the debate of the National Assembly, when Neckar had proposed an extraordinary subsidy by vote of credit, as the only escape from national bank- ruptcy. Mirabeau supported this, in a speech which carried the vote of the Assembly by storm. A member got up and said, " I rise to reply to M. de Mirabeau." Mirabeau glared on his opponent ; and the Assembly gazed with silent surprise at the man who could venture to reply to such a speech. The unlucky orator, after standing for a moment with his mouth open and his arm raised, sate down, without uttering another word." 7 Lord Mahon, vol. iv. p. 279. 8 I quote a portion of a translation of this celebrated speech, in order to give the reader an opportunity of comparing the eloquence of Mirabeau with that of Chatham : " I would say to those who, from their dread of an extraordinary impost, familiarise their minds with the contemplation of bankruptcy, to those, I would say, what is bankruptcy but the most cruel, the most iniquitous, the most unequal, the most dis- astrous of imposts ? My friends, hear me a word but one word. Two centuries of depredation and robbery have opened the gulf which is about to swallow up the king- dom. This frightful gulf must be closed. Well ; here is the list of the French land- owners. Choose among the richest, in order to sacrifice the fewest citizens. Choose choose, at all events ; for must not a small number perish to save the mass ? Come ; there are two thousand notables, possessing the means of filling up the deficit. Restore order to the finances, peace and prosperity to the kingdom. Strike immolate, without mercy, those unhappy victims, precipitate them into the abyss, and instantly it closes ! You start back with horror ! Inconsistent, pusillanimous men. Do you not perceive that in decreeing bankruptcy or, what is still more odious, in rendering it inevitable without decreeing it you cover yourselves with the infamy of an act a thousand times more criminal and (which is inconceivable) gratuitously criminal ; for the sacrifice, horfible as it is, would not close the gulf. Do you suppose that, because you will not have paid, you will therefore cease to be in debt I Do you suppose that the thousands, the millions of men, who will lose in an instant by the terrific explosion or its rebound, all that was their comfort in life, and perhaps their sole means of existence, will leave you in the peaceable enjoyment of your crime ? You Stoic observers of the incalcu- lable evils which this catastrophe will pour out upon France you unfeeling, selfish men, who think the convulsions of misery and despair will pass away like so many LORD CHATHAM. 229 On George the Third's accession, Pitt's authority in council, which had hitherto been paramount, began sensibly to decline. Spain, though nominally at peace with England, had been actively aiding France ; and Pitt, foreseeing that the speedy union of both the great Bourbon monarchies in open war against us was certain, wished to assume the initiative against Spain, and attack her before she had matured her plan for attacking us. Lord Bute, who had at this time complete influence over the young King, was opposed to this ; and several members of the Cabinet, who were probably weary of Pitt's scorching predominance, joined the favourite in thwarting the War Secretary. The noble historian to whom I have been so largely indebted in this and other memoirs, does justice here to Pitt's wise and vigorous policy. Lord Mahou says " Let me add, that in the closing act of this administration, in proposing an immediate declaration of war against Spain, Pitt did not urge any immature or ill-considered scheme. His prepa- rations were already made, to strike more than one heavy blow upon his enemy, to capture the returning galleons, and to take possession of the Isthmus of Panama, thus securing a port in the Pacific, and cutting off all communication between the Spanish provinces of Mexico and Peru. Nor did his designs end here : these points once accomplished as they might have been with little difficulty he had planned an expedition against the Ilavauna, and another, on a smaller scale, against the Philippine Islands. In none of these places could the means of resistance be compared to those of the French in Canada, while the means of aggression from England would be the same. Yet a few months, others, and the more rapidly, as they will have been more violent, are you quite sure that so many men without bread will let you revel unmolested on those luxuries to which you cling ? No ; you will perish ; and in the general conflagration which you do not shudder to light up, the loss of your honour will not save even a single one of your vile enjoyments ! Vote, then, this extraordinary subsidy ; and may it suffice ! Vote it because, even if you doubt the means of meeting it, your doubts are vague and unexamined ; and you can h;ive no doubt of its necessity, and of the impossibility of dispensing with it at the moment. Beware of demanding time ; calamity never allows it. Eh ! gentlemen, allusion has been made to a ridiculous movement at the Palais Royal, to a ridiculous insurrection, which never had importance but in the weak imagination of some, or in the perfidy of others. You have heard pronounced, \\iih rage, the words ' Cutill/ir /.< t t!,< grata*, nml tlnj deliberate.'' Certainly, we have neither Catiline, nor danger, nor faction, nor Rome ; but bankruptcy, hideous bank- ruptcy, is upon us tlireatens to devour you, your properties, your honour and y&u (I- li/jt rate I " 230 LORD CHATHAM. and the most precious provinces of Spain in the New World the brightest gems of her colonial empire might not improbably have decked the British crown ! " In reviewing designs so vast, pursued by a spirit so lofty, I can only find a parallel from amongst that nation which Pitt sought to humble, I can only point to Cardinal Ximenes. This resem- blance would be the less surprising, since Pitt, at the outset of his administration, had once, in conversation with Fox, talked much of Ximenes, who, he owned, was his favourite character in history." 9 Pitt resigned on the 5th of October, 1761. Lord Temple retired with him, but Mr. Grenville remained in office. The King expressed to Pitt his high sense of his services, and his wish of signifying that opinion by some substantial mark of favour. Pitt condescended to accept a pension of 3000/. a year for the lives of himself, his son, and his wife, who was created Baroness of Chatham. He had written to a female relation, some years before, severely reproaching her for the " despicable meanness " of which she had been guilty, in having accepted an annuity out of the public purse ; the lady, on the present occasion, it is said, took her revenge, by sending him a copy of his own letter. Pitt's popula- rity suffered for the time by his pension ; but it is to be remem- bered that he was not a wealthy man. His public services had absorbed his whole time for years ; and those services had gained such advantages for his country, that no pension, however large, could have been deemed an overpayment. Nor was it taken as a bribe, to buy off his opposition. He censured the measures of Lord Bute's administration, and of Mr. Grenville's, which followed it, freely and sternly, whenever he disapproved of them ; and, in particular, he denounced the provisions of the Peace of Paris, by which the memorable Seven Years' War was concluded, a war in which we had been obliged, as Pitt foretold, to declare open hostilities against Spain as well as France, though we had lost the critical opportunity of striking a decisive blow. In 1763, Pitt took a strenuous part in maintaining against the ministers the illegality of general warrants, in the disputes which arose from the prosecution of Wilkes. His favour with the nation now stood higher than ever before; and in 1705 he received a substantial proof of the admiration felt for his character, even by 9 Lord Mahon, vol. iv. p. 363. LORD CHATHAM. 231 those who had never had any personal intercourse with him. Sir William Pynsent, a Somersetshire baronet, wholly unconnected with Pitt, died in this year, and left Pitt, by will, the estate of Burton Pynsent, in that county, worth, it was said, about 2500/. a year, and about 30,000/. in ready money. Pitt was earnestly requested by the King, in this year, to re-enter the Cabinet ; and he was offered his own terms as to the composition of his ministry. But his health, always precarious, was now in such a state, that he was incapable of the duty. I see no reason for distrusting the truth of Pitt's statements on this subject ; nor do I see that they are disproved by the fact of his occa- sional appearances in Parliament at this time, or by the mental energy which he displayed on such occasions. It is one thing to be able to avail oneself of the temporary and uncertain intermissions of illness, and another thing to be able to reckon on such a continued immunity from it, as justifies a man in undertaking the regular duties of high and responsible employment. It was during the Rockingham administration, in which Pitt had no place, that the formidable question of taxing America was first brought forward in the British Parliament. Of such taxation Pitt was from first to last the vehement and uncompromising opponent; while he asserted with equal uniformity, and in lan- guage equally uncompromising, the full imperial supremacy of England over her colonies. Many have commented on what they call Lord Chatham's inconsistency in these tenets ; but in truth the inconsistency is only seeming, and the appearance of it is caused by the fallacious double meaning in which the same word is necessarily used in our language. I mean the word right. Lord Chatham said that England had the right to legislate in all matters for America, and yet he said that England had not the right to pass a law imposing taxes on America. In the first asser- tion Lord Chatham meant the right arising out of the relation between mother-country and colony, the municipal, or rather the imperial right, which arises from the necessity of ultimate supreme power residing somewhere in a state-system of mother-country and dependencies, and from the impossibility of that ultimate supreme power being placed anywhere except in the government of the mother-country. In denying the right of England to tax America, Lord Chatham meant another sort of right than that which arises from the conventional laws either of particular nations or of 232 LOKI) CHATHAM. particular assemblages of nations. He meant the right which arises from the eternal immutable laws of right and wrong; of "the just" and " the unjust." Judging by these, he believed that the English Parliament, in which America was unrepresented, had no right to tax America. He believed the attempt to be a moral crime, which justified and sanctified resistance. But he no more thought that the colonists who resisted such an attempt necessarily ceased to be members of the English empire, than that the Barons who resisted King John ceased thereby to be members of the English nation. A plan for raising a revenue by taxing the colonies had been formed and suggested to the government as early as 1737 ; but Sir Robert Walpole, with his natural sagacity, had declined it. It had been talked of during the Seven Years' War ; but Mr. Grenville was the first who sought to enforce it, by his celebrated Stamp Act. This measure had produced violent tumults in New England, and the mention of these in the King's Speech in 1766 brought on a debate, in which Pitt and his brother-in-law, George Grenville, once fast friends, but now firm foes, were the principal speakers. On the Address being read, Mr. Pitt, after some complimentary expressions respecting part of it, adverted to the subject of America; and at the outset he courteously but expressively declared his want of confidence in the Rockingham ministry, and denounced the sup- posed secret influence of the Earl of Bute. Turning towards the Treasury bench, he said, " As to the present gentlemen, to those at least whom I have in my eye, I have no objection; I have never been made a sacrifice by any of them. Their characters are fair ; and I am always glad when men of fair character engage in his Majesty's service. Some of them have done me the honour to ask my opinion before they would engage. These would do me the justice to own, I advised them to engage ; but notwithstand- ing I love to be explicit I cannot give them my confidence; pardon me, gentlemen, confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom : youth is the season of credulity ; by comparing events with each other, reasoning from effects to causes, methinks I plainly discover the traces of an over-ruling influence. " There is a clause in the Act of Settlement to oblige every minister to sign his name to the advice which he gives his Sove- reign. Would it were observed ! I have had the honour to serve the Crown, and if I could have submitted to influence, I might LORD CHATHAM. 233 have still continued to serve ; but I would not be responsible for others. I have no local attachments ; it is indifferent to me whether a man was rocked in his cradle on this side or that side of the Tweed. I sought for merit wherever it was to be found. It is my boast, that I was the first minister who looked for it, and I found it in the mountains in the North. I called it forth, and drew it into your service, a hardy and intrepid race of men ! men, who, when left by your jealousy, became a prey to the artifices of your enemies, and had gone nigh to have overturned the State in the war before the last. These men, in the last war, were brought to combat on your side ; they served with fidelity, as they fought with valour, and conquered for you in every part of the world. Detested be the national reflections against them ! they are unjust, groundless, illiberal, unmanly. When I ceased to serve his Majesty as a minister, it was not the country of the man by which I was moved but the man of that country wanted wisdom, and held principles incompatible with freedom. " It is a long time, Mr. Speaker, since I have attended in Par- liament. When the resolution was taken in the House to tax America, I was ill in bed. If I could have endured to have been carried in my bed, so great was the agitation of my mind for the consequences, I would have solicited some kind hand to have laid me down on this floor, to have borne my testimony against it ! It is now an act that has passed I would speak with decency of every act of this House, but I must beg the indulgence of the House to speak of it with freedom. " I hope a day may be soon appointed to consider the state of the nation with respect to America. I hope gentlemen will come to this debate with all the temper and impartiality that his Majesty recommends, and the importance of the subject requires a subject of greater importance than ever engaged the attention of this House; that subject only excepted when, near a century ago, it was the question whether you yourselves were to be bound or free. In the mean time, as I cannot depend upon health for any future day, such is the nature of my infirmities, I will beg to say a few words at present, leaving the justice, the equity, the policy, the expediency of the act, to another time. I will only speak to one point a point which seems not to have been generally understood I mean, to the right. Some gentlemen seem to have considered it as a point of honour. If gentlemen consider it in that light, 234 LORD CHATHAM. they leave all measures of right and wrong, to follow a delusion that may lead to destruction. It is my opinion, that this kingdom has no right to lay a tax upon the colonies. At the same time, I assert the authority of this kingdom over the colonies to be sove- reign and supreme, in every circumstance of government and legislation whatsoever. They are the subjects of this kingdom, equally entitled with yourselves to all the natural rights of man- kind and the peculiar privileges of Englishmen ; equally bound by its laws, and equally participating of the constitution of this free country. The Americans are the sons, not the bastards of Eng- land. Taxation is no part of the governing or legislative power. The taxes are a voluntary gift and grant of the Commons alone. In legislation the three estates of the realm are alike concerned, but the concurrence of the Peers and the Crown to a tax, is only necessary to clothe it with the form of a law. The gift and grant is of the Commons alone. In ancient days the Crown, the Barons, and the Clergy possessed the lands. In those days the Barons and the Clergy gave and granted to the Crown. They gave and granted what was their own. At present, since the discovery of America, and other circumstances permitting, the Commons are become the proprietors of the land. The Church (God bless it) has but a pittance. The property of the Lords, compared with that of the Commons, is as a drop of water in the ocean ; and this House represents those Commons, the proprietors of the lands ; and those proprietors virtually represent the rest of the inhabitants. When, therefore, in this House we give and grant, we give and grant what is our own. But in an American tax, what do we do ? We, your Majesty's Commons for Great Britain, give and grant to your Majesty what? our own property? No. We give and grant to your Majesty the property of your Majesty's Commons of America. It is an absurdity in terms. " There is an idea in some, that the colonies are virtually repre- sented in the House. I would fain know by whom an American is represented here? Is he represented by any knight of the shire, in any county in this kingdom ? Would to God that respectable representation was augmented to a greater number ! Or will you tell him that he is represented by any representative of a borough a borough which perhaps no man ever saw ? This is what is called the rotten part of the constitution. It cannot continue a century : if it does not drop, it must be amputated. LORD CHATHAM. 235 The idea of a virtual representation of America in this House, is the most contemptible idea that ever entered into the head of a man it does not deserve a serious refutation. " The Commons of America, represented in their several assem- blies, have ever been in possession of the exercise of this, their constitutional right of giving and granting their own money. They would have been slaves, if they had not enjoyed it. At the same time, this kingdom, as the supreme governing and legislative power, has always bound the colonies by her laws, by her regula- tions, and restrictions in trade, in navigation, in manufactures in everything, except that of taking their money out of their pockets without their consent." [Mr. Grenville, in reply, defended his own policy, and insisted that, as this country was acknowledged to possess supreme legisla- tive power over America, taxation was a part of that sovereign power ; and that it had been frequently exercised over those who were represented ; and instanced the case of the East India Com- pany, the proprietors of the public funds, the Palatine of Chester, and the Bishopric of Durham, before they sent representatives to Parliament. On this Mr. Pitt again rose, and addressed the House thus : ] " I did not mean to have gone any further upon the subject to-day ; I had only designed to have thrown out a few hints, which gentlemen, who were so confident of the right of this kingdom to send taxes to America, might consider ; might perhaps reflect, in a cooler moment, that the right was at least equivocal. But since the gentleman who spoke last, has not stopped on that ground, but has gone into the whole, into the justice, the equity, the policy, the expediency of the Stamp Act, as well as into the right, I will follow him through the whole field, and combat his argu- ments on every point. " Gentlemen, Sir, have been charged with giving birth to sedi- tion in America. They have spoken their sentiments with freedom against this unhappy act, and that freedom has become their crime. Sorry 1 am to hear the liberty of speech in this House imputed as a crime. But the imputation shall not discourage me. It is a liberty I mean to exercise. No gentleman ought to be afraid to exercise it. It is a liberty by which the gentleman who calum- niates it might have profited. He ought to have desisted from his project. The gentleman tells us, America is obstinate ; 236 LORD CHATHAM. America is almost in open rebellion. I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty, as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make slaves of the rest. I come not here, armed at all points with law cases and Acts of Parliament, with the statute book doubled down in dogs' ears, to defend the cause of liberty : if I had, I myself would have cited the two cases of Chester and Durham. I would have cited them, to show that even, under arbitrary reigns, Parliaments were ashamed of taxing a people without their consent, and allowed them representatives. ******* " The gentleman asks, when were the colonies emancipated ? But I desire to know when they were made slaves. But I dwell not upon words. When I had the honour of serving his Majesty, I availed myself of the means of information which I derived from my office ; I speak, therefore, from knowledge. My materials were good : I was at pains to collect, to digest, to consider them ; and I will be bold to affirm, that the profit to Great Britain from the trade of the colonies, through all its branches, is two millions a year. This is the fund that carried you triumphantly through the last war. The estates that were rented at two thousand pounds a year threescore years ago, are at three thousand pounds at pre- sent. Those estates sold then from fifteen to eighteen years' purchase ; the same may now be sold for thirty. You owe this to America. This is the pi*ice America pays for her protection. And shall a miserable financier come with a boast, that he can fetch a pepper-corn in the Exchequer, to the loss of millions to the nation ? I dare not say how much higher these profits may be augmented. Omitting the immense increase of people by natural population, in the northern colonies, and the emigration from every part of Europe, I am convinced the commercial system of America may be altered to advantage. You have prohibited where you ought to have encouraged, and encouraged where you ought to have pro- hibited. Improper restraints have been laid on the continent, in favour of the islands. You have but two nations to trade with in America. Would you had twenty ! Let Acts of Parliament in consequence of treaties remain, but let not an English minister become a custom-house officer for Spain or for any foreign power. Much is wrong, much may be amended for the general good of the whole. LORD CHATHAM. 237 "A great deal has been said without doors of the power, of the strength of America. It is a topic that ought to be cautiously meddled with. In a good cause, on a sound bottom, the force of this country can crush America to atoms. I know the valour of your troops, I know the skill of your officers. There is not a company of foot that has served in America out of which you may not pick a man of sufficient knowledge and experience to make a governor of a colony there. But on this ground, on the Stamp Act, when so many here will think it a crying injustice, I am one who will lift up my hands against it. ******* " In such a cause, your success would be hazardous. America, if she fell, would fall like the strong man. She would embrace the pillars of the state, and pull down the constitution along with her. Is this your boasted peace ? Not to sheath the sword in its scab- bard, but to sheath it in the bowels of your countrymen ? Will you quarrel with yourselves, now the whole House of Bourbon is united against you ? while France disturbs your fisheries in New- foundland, embarrasses your slave-trade to Africa, and withholds from your subjects in Canada their property stipulated by treaty ? while the ransom for the Manillas is denied by Spain, and its gallant conqueror basely traduced into a mean plunderer, a gentle- man whose noble and generous spirit would do honour to the proudest grandee of the country ? The Americans have not acted in all things with prudence and temper. The Americans have been wronged. They have been driven to madness by injustice. Will you punish them for the madness you have occasioned ? Rather let prudence and temper come first from this side. I will undertake for America, that she will follow the example. There are two lines in a ballad of Prior's, of a man's behaviour to his wife, so applicable to you and your colonies, that I cannot help repeating them : Be to her faults a little blind : Be to her virtues very kind.' " Upon the whole, I will beg leave to tell the House what is really my opinion. It is, that the Stamp Act be repealed abso- lutely, totally, and immediately. That the reason for the repeal be assigned, because it was founded on an erroneous principle. At the same time, let the sovereign authority of this country over the colonies be asserted in as strong terms as can be devised, and be 238 CHATHAM. made to extend to every point of legislation whatsoever. That we may bind their trade, confine their manufactures, and exercise every power whatsoever, except that of taking their money out of their pocket without their consent." The Stamp Act was soon afterwards repealed ; but it was accom- panied by an Act which contained a clause declaratory of the British Parliament's power to make laws for binding the colonies in all cases whatsoever. Pitt's speech had been made on the 14th of January, and these Acts had passed both Houses and received the royal assent on the 18th of March. The Rockingham cabinet was unable to stand against the hostility of Pitt ; and in the difficulties to which this ministry also soon found itself reduced, another application was made by the King to Pitt, so early as the end of February, 1766. At that time it came to nothing, but the attempt was renewed after a few months ; and in the end Pitt received full and unlimited powers to frame a new cabinet, which was completed about the beginning of August. Mr. Pitt took for himself the office of Privy Seal, which rendered indispensable his translation to the House of Lords. This choice very much surprised the world ; the reasons assigned were age and infirmity, which rendered a constant attendance in the House of Commons impossible. Lord Chatham, on now assuming office, showed great want of judgment in failing to conciliate Lord Buckingham, Lord Temple, Lord Gower, and other influential men, whom he might by a little discretion and conciliation have united under him. The support of those statesmen would have added dignity and power to his cabinet ; and they would have proved better vicegerents of autho- rity when Lord Chatham was disabled by illness. The result was, that the Duke of Grafton was placed in the office of First Lord of the Treasury Lord Shelburne and General Conway were Secre- taries of State Lord Camden, Chancellor the late Chancellor, Northington, President of the Council ; and Charles Townshend was persuaded to become Chancellor of the Exchequer. The sub- ordinate offices were filled with very heterogeneous materials. This was the ministry which Mr. Burke described with such wit and truth : " He [Lord Chatham] made an administration so chequered and speckled ; he put together a piece of joinery, so crossly indented and whimsically dovetailed ; a cabinet so variously inlaid ; such a piece of diversified mosaic ; such a tesselated pavement without LORD CHATHAM. 239 cement ; here a bit of black stone, and there a bit of white ; patriots and courtiers, King's friends and republicans ; Whigs and Tories ; treacherous friends and open enemies ; that it was indeed a very curious show ; but utterly unsafe to touch, and unsure to stand on. The colleagues, whom he had assorted at the same boards, stared at each other, and were obliged to ask, ' Sir, your name ? Sir, you have the advantage of me Mr. Such-a-one I beg a thousand pardons/ I venture to say it did so happen, that persons had a single office divided between them, who had never spoke to each other in their lives, until they found themselves, they knew not how, pigging together, heads and points, in the same truckle-bed." Soon after the formation of this strange ministry Lord Chatham was obliged to withdraw from all share in the conduct of affairs by a serious illness, which, from the evidence furnished by his lately published correspondence, clearly appears to have been chiefly mental, and to have taken the form of a deep hypochondria, making him shrink with horror from business, and from inter- course with any person beyond the circle of his own family. At last, on the 15th of October, 1768, he sent his friend Lord Camden to the King with a resignation of his office. But during the two years which had passed away, irreparable evil had been effected by the administration of which he was the nominal head. Charles Towiishend had revived the disastrous project of taxing America ; the disturbances among the colonists had in consequence revived with greater exasperation and violence than before; and when Lord Chatham's recruited health enabled him again to appear in Parliament, a convention had been summoned in the principal state of New England to take measures for redress of their grievances, and Boston was only kept in a nominal subjection to British authority by the presence of British bayonets. Another cause of disturbance and anxiety arose from the unwise proceedings at home, which the House of Commons, at the insti- gation of the ministers, adopted towards the notorious John \\ ilkes. That demagogue, who had for some years before been outlawed, and who had been living on the continent, returned to England in 1768, and was elected member for Middlesex. The I louse of Commons expelled him on the 3rd of February, 1769, and on the IGth of the same month the constituency of Middlesex again elected him. The House of Commons pronounced his 240 LOUD CHATHAM. election void ; and declared that he was incapable of becoming a member of the existing parliament. He was again chosen member by a vast majority of the Middlesex electors, but Colonel Luttrell, his opponent, who had not obtained as many votes as a fourth part of Wilkes's, was declared the lawful member. In the midst of the confusion occasioned by these proceedings, Parliament met on the 9th of January, 1770, when Lord Chatham appeared in the House of Lords and once more re-asserted his position as a master of parliamentary debate. A recent severe critic 1 of Lord Chatham's character and career has argued from the vigour which Lord Chatham displayed during the last years of his life, in opposing the American war, that the excuse, set up on the score of illness for his previous inaction while he was nominal minister, must have been fictitious. This is a grievous charge; but surely it is unfounded. I have before adverted to the difference between the pressure on a sick brain of daily duty and constant responsibility, compared with the occa- sional task of vigorous biit temporary efforts, which a man may make at his own good time, and need only make when he feels in the vein. Nor did Lord Chatham's appearance in vigorous opposition follow immediately on the period of his ministerial supineness. A year of retirement and calm intervened, during which the shattered frame was recruited, and the o'er-strung nerves were restored to their natural healthy elasticity. There are other dates which prove the reality and the recurrence of his bodily afflictions. It is true that in the session of Parliament which began in 1770 he took a prominent and active part. He also appeared occasionally in the session which began 21st January, 1772; in one speech in particular, which he delivered in May that year, in support of a bill for the relief of Protestant Dissenters, he showed, according to the report of the debate, ' as much oratory and fire as perhaps he ever did in his life/ But his name does not appear again in the debates till towards the end of the session of 1774, on the 27th of May in which year, though still labouring under a state of ill-health, which had long kept him absent from the House, he spoke warmly and impressively in oppo- sition to one of Lord North's bills for subduing the resistance in America. He spoke also several times on the same now all- engrossing subject in the earlier part of the first session of the 1 Quarterly Review, June, ] 840. LORD CHATHAM. next Parliament, which met in November of this year; but then a return of ill-health sent him back for nearly two years into retire- ment. When he again made his appearance in the House in the end of May, 1777, it was to reiterate with increased earnestness his views and warnings on American affairs ; and he continued to come down for the same purpose during the next session as often as the little strength remaining in his racked and shattered frame would permit. At last, on the 7th of April, 1778, after he had spoken once on a motion for an address to the King on the state of the nation, he attempted to rise again to notice something that had been said by the Duke of Richmond in reply, when he dropped senseless into the arms of those beside him. I am anticipating the memorable closing scenes of his life, but these dates (as I find them collected in the biographical notice of him in Knight's Cyclopaedia,) seem to me to be all important in vindicating his memory from the charges of malingering and hypocrisy. On the first night of the session of 1770, Lord Chatham spoke early in the debate, condemning the conduct of the House of Commons respecting Wilkes, and proposing an amendment to the address. Lord Mansfield, in opposition to this amendment, urged on the lords the impropriety of general declarations of law by cither House of Parliament ; and contended that the case of Mr. Wilkes had come judicially before the Commons ; and that, therefore, it would be exceedingly improper for the House of Lords to enter upon an inquiry into the proceedings of the Lower House with respect to their own members, and that such an inter- ference would inevitably lead to a rupture between the two Houses. To this speech of Lord Mansfield, Lord Chatham replied in one of his noblest speeches, portions of which are as follows : " There is one plain maxim, to which I have invariably adhered through life That in every question, in which my liberty or my property were concerned, I should consult and be determined by the dictates of common sense. I confess, my lords, that I am apt to distrust the refinements of learning, because I have seen the ablest and most learned men equally liable to deceive themselves, and to mislead others. The condition of human nature would be lamentable indeed, if nothing less thaii the greatest learning and talents, which fall to the share of so small a number of men, were > 1 :> LORD CHATHAM. sufficient to direct our judgment and our conduct. But Provi- dence has taken better care of our happiness, and given us, in the simplicity of common sense, a rule for our direction, by which we shall never be misled. I confess, my lords, I had no other guide in drawing up the amendment which I submitted to your consideration ; and before I heard the opinion of the noble lord who spoke last, I did not conceive that it was even within the limits of possibility for the greatest human genius, the most subtile understanding, or the acutest wit, so strangely to misre- present my meaning, and to give it an interpretation so entirely foreign to what I intended to express, and from that sense which the very terms of the amendment plainly and distinctly carry with them. If there be the smallest foundation for the censure thrown upon me by that noble lord if, either expressly, or by the most distant implication, I have said or insinuated any part of what the noble lord has charged me with, discard my opinions for ever, discard the motion with contempt. " My lords, I must beg the indulgence of the House. Neither will my health permit me, nor do I pretend to be qualified to follow that learned lord minutely through the whole of his argument. No man is better acquainted with his abilities and learning, nor has a greater respect for them, than I have. I have had the pleasure of sitting with him in the other House, and always listened to him with attention. I have not now lost a word of what he said, NOR DID i EVER. Upon the present question, I meet him without fear. The evidence which truth carries with it, is superior to all argument ; it neither wants the support, nor dreads the opposition, of the greatest abilities. ******* " Now, my lords, since I have been forced to enter into the ex- planation of an amendment, in which nothing less than the genius of penetration could have discovered an obscurity, and having, as I hope, redeemed myself in the opinion of the House, having redeemed my motion from the severe representation given of it by the noble lord, I must a little longer entreat your lordships' indulgence. The constitution of this country has been openly invaded in fact ; and I have heard, with horror and astonishment, that very invasion defended upon principle. What is this mys- terious power, undefined by law, unknown to the subject, which we must not approach without awe, nor speak of without reverence, LORD CHATHAM. 243 which no man may question and to which all men must submit ? My lords, I thought the slavish doctrine of passive obedience had long since been exploded : and, when our kings were obliged to confess that their title to the crown, and the rule of their govern- ment, had no other foundation than the known laws of the land, I never expected to hear a divine right, or a divine infallibility, attributed to any other branch of the legislature. My lords, I beg to be understood ; no man respects the House of Commons more than I do, or would contend more strenuously than I would, to preserve them their just and legal authority. Within the bounds prescribed by the constitution, that authority is necessary to the well-being of the people : beyond that line every exertion of power is arbitrary, is illegal ; it threatens tyranny to the people, and destruction to the state. Power without right is the most odious and detestable object that can be offered to the human imagination : it is not only pernicious to those who are subject to it, but tends to its own destruction. It is what my noble friend (Lord Lyttelton) has truly described it, Res detestabills et caduca. My lords, I acknowledge the just power, and reverence the constitution of the House of Commons. It is for their own sakes that I would prevent their assuming a power which the con- stitution has denied them, lest, by grasping at an authority they have no right to, they should forfeit that which they legally possess. My lords, I affirm that they have betrayed their consti- tuents, and violated the constitution. Under pretence of declaring the law, they have made a law, and united in the same persons the office of legislator and of judge. " I shall endeavour to adhere strictly to the noble lord's doctrine, which is indeed impossible to mistake, so far as my memory will permit me to preserve his expressions. He seems fond of the word jurisdiction; and I confess, with the force and effect which he has given it, it is a word of copious meaning and wonderful extent. If his lordship's doctrine be well founded, we must renounce all those political maxims by which our understandings have hitherto been directed, and even the first elements of learning taught us in our schools when we were school-boys. My lords, we knew that juris- diction was nothing more than jus dicere ; we knew that legem facer e and legem dicere were powers clearly distinguished from each other in the nature of things, and wisely separated by the wisdom of the English constitution ; but now, it seems, we must adopt a R 2 I.ORP CHATHAM. new system of thinking. The House of Commons, we are told, lias a supreme jurisdiction; that there is no appeal from their sentence; and that wherever they are competent judges, their decision must be received and submitted to, as, ipso facto, the law of the land. My lords, I am a plain man, and have been brought up in a religious reverence for the original simplicity of the laws of England. By what sophistry they have been perverted, by what artifices they have been involved in obscurity, is not for me to explain ; the principles, however, of the English laws are still sufficiently clear : they are founded in reason, and are the master- piece of the human understanding ; but it is in the text that I would look for a direction to my judgment, not in the commentaries of modern professors. The noble lord assures us, that he knows not in what code the law of Parliament is to be found ; that the House of Commons, when they act as judges, have no law to direct them but their own wisdom ; that their decision is law ; and if they determine wrong, the subject has no appeal but to heaven. What then, my lords, are all the generous efforts of our ancestors are all those glorious contentions, by which they meant to secure to themselves, and to transmit to their posterity, a known law, a certain rule of living reduced to this conclusion, that instead of the arbitrary power of a king, we must submit to the arbitrary power of a House of Commons ? If this be true, what benefit do we derive from the exchange ? Tyranny, my lords, is detestable in every shape ; but in none so formidable as when it is assumed and exercised by a number of tyrants. But, my lords, this is not the fact, this is not the constitution; we have a law of Parliament; we have a code in which every honest man may find it. We have Magna Charta, we have the Statute Book, and the Bill of Rights. " If a case should arise unknown to these great authorities, we have still that plain English reason left, which is the foundation of all our English jurisprudence. That reason tells us, that every judicial court and every political society must be vested with those powers and privileges which are necessary for performing the office to which they are appointed. It tells us also, that no court of justice can have a power inconsistent with, or paramount to, the known laws of the land ; that the people, when they choose their representatives, never mean to convey to them a power of invading the rights or trampling upon the liberties of those whom they represent. What security would they have for their rights, if once LORD CHATHAM. 245 they admitted that a court of judicature might determine every question that came before it, not by any known positive law, but by the vague, indeterminate, arbitrary rule, of what the noble lord is pleased to call the wisdom of the Court ? With respect to the decision of the courts of justice, I am far from denying them their due weight and authority ; yet, placing them in a most respectable view, I still consider them, not as law, but as an evidence of the law ; and before they can arrive even at that degree of authority, it must appear that they are founded in, and confirmed by, reason ; that they are supported by precedents taken from good and mode- rate times; that they do not contradict any positive law; that they are submitted to without reluctance by the people : that they are unquestioned by the legislature (which is equivalent to a tacit confirmation) ; and what, in my judgment, is by far the most important, that they do not violate -the spirit of the constitution. ******* " My lords, I am ready to maintain that the late decision of the House of Commons is destitute of every one of those properties and conditions, which I hold to be essential to the legality of such a decision. ******* " It is to your ancestors, my lords, it is to the English Barons that we are indebted for the laws and constitution we possess. Their virtues were rude and uncultivated, but they were great and sincere. Their understandings were as little polished as their manners, but they had hearts to distinguish between right and wrong ; they had heads to distinguish between truth and false- hood ; they understood the rights of humanity, and they had the spirit to maintain them. " My lords, I think that history has not done justice to their con- duct, when they obtained from their Sovereign that great acknow- ledgment of national rights contained in Magna Charta : they did not confine it to themselves alone, but delivered it as a common blessing to the whole people. They did not say, ' These are the rights of the great barons/ or, ' These are the rights of the great prelates;' no, my lords, they said, in the simple Latin of the times, ' Nullus liber homo' and provided as carefully for the meanest subject as for the greatest. These are uncouth words, and sound but poorly in the cars of scholars; neither are they addressed to the criticism of scholars, but to the hearts of free 246 LORD CHATHAM. men. Those three words, ' Nullus liber homo,' have a meaning \\ liic-h interests us all; they deserve to be remembered, they deserve to be inculcated in our minds ; they are worth all the classics. ******* " My lords, the character and circumstances of Mr. Wilkes have been very improperly introduced into this question, not only here, but in that court of judicature where his cause was tried : I mean the House of Commons. With one party he was a patriot of the first magnitude; with the other the vilest incendiary. For my own part, I consider him merely and indifferently as an English subject, possessed of certain rights which the laws have given him, and which the laws alone can take from him. I am neither moved by his private vices nor by his public merits. In his person, though he were the worst of men, I contend for the safety and security of the best ; and, God forbid, my lords, that there should be a power in this country of measuring the civil rights of the subject by his moral character, or by any other rule but the fixed laws of the land ! I believe, my lords, / shall not be suspected of any personal partiality to this unhappy man : I am not very con- versant in pamphlets or newspapers ; but from what I have heard, and from the little I have read, I may venture to affirm that I have had my share in the compliments which have come from that quarter ; and as for motives of ambition (for I must take to myself a part of the noble duke's insinuation), I believe, my lords, there have been times in which I have had the honour of standing in such favour in the closet, that there must have been something extravagantly unreasonable in my wishes if they might not all have been gratified; after neglecting those opportunities, I am now suspected of coming forward, in the decline of life, in the anxious pursuit of wealth and power, which it is impossible for me to enjoy. Be it so; there is one ambition at least which I ever will acknowledge, which I will not renounce but with my life ; it is the ambition of delivering to my posterity those rights of freedom which I have received from my ancestors." My limits forbid me to transfer to these pages any of " the solemn warnings, the wise, eloquent, and enthusiastic appeals," which, in the course of the long struggle with America, Lord Chatham " addressed alternately to the hopes and fears, the feelings and interests, of the mother country." 8 But one memorable speech 2 Quarterly Review. LORD CHATHAM. must not be passed over. In the debate on the 20th of November, 1777, respecting an amendment to the address on the subject of the American war, Lord Suffolk had defended the employ- ment of Indians against the colonists, saying, that " it was perfectly justifiable to use all the means which God and nature had put into our hands." Lord Chatham had already spoken in the debate ; but on hearing this, his indignant eloquence blazed forth. " I am astonished ! " exclaimed he, " shocked, to hear such principles confessed to hear them avowed in this House or in this country : principles equally unconstitutional, inhuman and un- Christian ! My lords, I did not intend to have encroached again upon your attention ; but I cannot repress my indignation I feel myself impelled by every duty. My lords, we are called upon as members of this House, as men, as Christian men, to protest against such notions standing near the throne, polluting the ear of Majesty. e That God and nature put into our hands ! ' I know not what ideas that lord may entertain of God and nature ; but I know that such abominable principles are equally abhorrent to religion and humanity. What ! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife to the cannibal savage torturing, murdering, roasting, and eating, literally, my lords, eatiny the mangled victims of his barbarous battles ! Such horrible notions shock every precept of religion, divine or natural, and every generous feeling of humanity. And, my lords, they shock every sentiment of honour ; they shock me as a lover of honourable war, and a detester of murderous barbarity. " These abominable principles, and this more abominable avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation. I call upon that riylit reverend bench, those holy ministers of the gospel, and pious pastors of our Church ; I conjure them to join in the holy work, and vindicate the religion of their God : I appeal to the wisdom and the law of this learned bench to defend and support the justice of their country : I call upon the bishops to interpose the un- sullied sanctity of their lawn; upon the learned judges to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from this pollution : I call upon the honour of your lordships, to reverence the dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own : I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the national character : I invoke the genius of the constitution. From the tapestry that 248 LOUD CHATHAM. adorns these walls, the immortal ancestor of this noble lord frowns with indignation at the disgrace of his country. In vain he led your victorious fleets against the boasted armada of Spain ; in vain he defended and established the honour, the liberties, the religion, the Protestant religion, of this country, against the arbitrary cruelties of Popery and the Inquisition, if these more than popish cruelties and inquisitorial practices are let loose among us ; to turn forth into our settlements among our ancient connections, friends, and relations, the merciless cannibal, thirsting for the blood of man, woman, and child ! to send forth the infidel savage -against whom? against your Protestant brethren; to lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and name, with these horrible hell-hounds of savage war ! hell-hounds, I say, of savage war ! Spain armed herself with blood-hounds to extirpate the wretched natives of America ; and we improve on the inhuman example even of Spanish cruelty ; we turn loose these savage hell-hounds against our brethren and countrymen in America, of the same language, laws, liberties, and religion ; endeared to us by every tie that should sanctify humanity. " My lords, this awful subject, so important to our honour, our constitution, and our religion, demands the most solemn and effectual inquiry. And I again call upon your lordships, and the united powers of the state, to examine it thoroughly and decisively, and to stamp upon it an indelible stigma of the public abhorrence. And I again implore those holy prelates of our religion, to do away these iniquities from among us. Let them perform a lustration ; let them purify this House and this country from this sin. " My lords, I am old and weak, and at present unable to say more ; but my feelings and indignation were too strong to have said less. I could not have slept this night in my bed, nor reposed my head on my pillow, without giving this vent to my eternal abhorrence of such preposterous and enormous principles." It was asserted in answer to this, that Lord Chatham himself had employed Indians in the last war. The truth of this counter- charge is well investigated by Lord Brougham in his " Historical Sketches of Statesmen." But the utmost that can be shown against Lord Chatham is, that he knew that Indian tribes had been in alliance with us in Canada, and in a letter dated October, 1760, he desired General Amherst to thank the Indian allies for their bravery, and to express his Majesty's satisfaction LORD CHATHAM. 24-9 that by the good order kept among them no act of cruelty had stained the lustre of the British arms. After the disaster of Burgoyne at Saratoga, it was known that our old enemies in Europe were preparing to attack us, and avenge the humiliation which Pitt had inflicted on them in the Seven Years' War. As the prospect of affairs became more dis- couraging, and now that all opportunities of conciliating the Americans had been for ever thrown away, Englishmen began to hint at the possible expediency of surrendering their fair provinces in the Western world to the victorious rebels. The tidings of defeat and danger multiplied, the public burdens began to press more and more severely, and this policy of surrender found fresh advocates. At last the Duke of Richmond, who had faithfully sup- ported Lord Chatham in his opposition to the war, gave notice of an address to the Crown, recapitulating in detail the expenses, losses^ and misconduct of the war, and entreating his Majesty to dismiss his Ministers, and to withdraw his forces, by sea and land, from the revolted provinces. The proud spirit of Chatham could not stoop to this. His state of bodily illness at the time when he was in- formed of the Duke of Richmond's intended motion, was such, that it was evident that he could only exert himself in Parliament at the hazard of his life. But he resolved, even at that hazard, to raise his voice against what he thought his country's degradation, and on the 7th of April, 1778, the day appointed, Lord Chatham, looking like a dying man, save that his eye retained all its native fire, was supported into the House of Lords by his son the Hon. William Pitt, and his son-in-law Lord Mahon. Arnold has well compared with this the striking passage in Roman history, when the Senate were assembled to consider the necessity of treating with the victorious Pyrrhus; and wheii Appius the Blind, then in extreme old age, caused himself to be carried to the Senate-House to raise his voice against the meditated dishonour to the Roman name. But the grandeur of the scene, and the grandeur of the man, in our own history, are far the highest; and the death of Chatham gives a tragic sublimity to this, the closing act of his illustrious life, which places it above all parallel. When Lord Chatham entered the House, leaning, as before mentioned, on his son and his son-in-law, the loids stood up, and made a lane for him to pass to his seat, whilst with the gracefulness of deportment for which he was so eminently distinguished, he 250 LORD CHATHAM. bowed to them as he proceeded. Having taken his seat on the bench of the earls, he listened to the speech of the Duke of Richmond with the most profound attention. After Lord Weymouth had spoken against the Address, Lord Chatham arose with slowness and difficulty from his seat, leaning on his crutches, and supported by his two relations. He took one hand from his crutch and raised it towards heaven, and said, " I thank God that I have been enabled to come here this day, to perform my duty and to speak on a subject which is so deeply impressed on my mind. I am old and infirm ; have one foot, more than one foot, in the grave. I have risen from my bed, to stand up in the cause of my country perhaps never again to speak in this House ! " The reverence, the attention, the stillness of the House, were here most affecting; had any one dropped a handkerchief, the noise would have been heard. 3 At first, Lord Chatham spoke in a low and feeble tone, which showed the effects of severe illness ; but as he grew warm, his voice rose, and became as harmonious and rich as ever. He recounted the whole history of the American war, the measures to which he had objected, and all the evil con- sequences which he had foretold; adding at the end of eacli period, "And so it proved." In one part of his speech he ridiculed the apprehension of an invasion, and then recalled the remembrance of former invasions. " A Spanish invasion, a French invasion, a Dutch invasion, many noble Lords must have read of in history ; and some Lords (looking keenly at one who sat near him) may remember a Scotch invasion." He then continued with redoubled force : " I rejoice that the grave has not closed upon me that I am still alive to lift up my voice against the dismemberment of this ancient and most noble monarchy. Pressed down as I am by the hand of infirmity, I am little able to assist my country in this most perilous conjuncture; but, my lords, while I have sense and memory, I will never consent to deprive the royal offspring of the House of Brunswick, the heirs of the Princess Sophia, of their fairest inheri- tance. Where is the man that will dare to advise such a measure ? My lords, his Majesty succeeded to an empire as great in extent as its reputation was unsullied. Shall we tarnish the lustre of this nation by an ignominious surrender of its rights and fairest posses- 3 Thackeray's Life of Chatham, vol. ii. p. 377. LORD CHATHAM. 251 sions ? Shall this great kingdom, that has survived whole and entire the Danish depredations, the Scottish inroads, and the Norman conquest ; that has stood the threatened invasion of the Spanish armada, now fall prostrate before the House of Bourbon ? Surely, my lords, this nation is no longer what it was ! Shall a people that, seventeen years ago, was the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell its ancient inveterate enemy, ' Take all we have, only give us peace ?' It is impossible ! " I wage war with no man, or set of men. I wish for none of their employments : nor would I co-operate with men who still persist in unretracted error; or who, instead of acting on a firm, decisive line of conduct, halt between two opinions, where there is no middle path. In God's name, if it is absolutely necessary to declare either for peace or war, and the former cannot be preserved with honour, why is not the latter commenced without hesitation ? I am not, I confess, well informed of the resources of this kingdom, but I trust it has still sufficient to maintain its just rights, though I know them not. But, my lords, any state is better than despair. Let us, at least, make one effort ; and, if we must fall, let us fall like men ! " When Lord Chatham sat down Lord Temple said to him, " You have forgot to mention what we have been talking about. Shall I get up ? " Lord Chatham replied, " No, no, I will do it bye and bye." The Duke of Richmond replied, urging the impossibility of England competing with the numerous enemies who were leagued against her. During part of his speech, Lord Chatham indicated, both in his countenance and gestures, symptoms of emotion and displeasure, aud on the Duke's sitting down, Lord Chatham rose and made an eager effort to address the House, but his strength failed him, and he fell backwards in convulsions. He was immediately supported by the peers around him, and by his younger sons, who happened to be present as spectators. He was conveyed first to the house of Mr. Sargent in Downing Street, and thence to Hayes. He lingered till the llth of May, on which day he expired amid his sorrowing family, having borne his sufferings to the last with the fortitude of a great man, and with the Christian resignation of a good one. I hope that, even in this brief memoir, Lord Chatham has been sufficiently pourtrayed to render any general summing up of his 252 LORD CHATHAM. character needless. Criticism may detect some blemishes. He may have been sometimes inconsistent in his policy : sometimes over vehement in his expressions. His mode of addressing his Sovereign may have partaken too much of the ceremonious obsequiousness of the age. He may sometimes have been harsh towards a rival or imperious to a colleague. These things, as was said of graver faults in a far inferior man, are mere specks in the sun. I am not going to scrutinise them; and shall only add a few remarks on Lord Chatham's speeches, in the form in which we possess them. The reports of the early ones seem so meagre, and some of them are so apocryphal, that no judgment of Chatham's powers can be formed from them. The reply to old Horace Walpole's taunt about youth bears to my mind internal evidence of Johnson's authorship. I see nothing in it to make an admirer of Chatham claim it for his idol. In the later speeches we have better and fuller materials for estimating the eloquence of " the Great Commoner/' and greater peer. The first and most certain impression that we feel in reading Chatham, is, that we have before us the workings of no ordinary mind. We feel ourselves in the presence of a high soul, and a commanding genius. We feel, moreover, that the mighty spirit, who deals with the audience, deals with them as beings inferior to himself. Chatham does not stoop to reason as with equals ; he enunciates some great truth, some bold principle, and commands obedience to it. He speaks to our hearts, not to our heads. He abounds in axioms, and an utter fearlessness of consequences marks his axioms. He never shrinks from following them out to the last, however startling may be their results. The nervous fiery style, with its bold metaphors and close compact sentences, is worthy of the spirit. There are few audiences, and there are few occasions, for which such speaking is adapted. It suits not deprecation, it contains not the elements of reasoning or of persuasion. No traces of skill in narrative are to be found in Chatham. His eloquence is only the eloquence of declaration and denunciation. But in those two, how transcendent is his genius ! All other modern orators, and almost all ancient ones, seem dwarfed by comparison with him. Perhaps Mirabeau among the moderns comes nearest to him. LORD CAMDHX. 253 Deraadcs among the ancients possibly equalled him. I, of course, always except Demosthenes, the perfect, the unapproachable in every branch of eloquence. But how wordy seem Cicero's invectives by the side of Chatham's ; how mean and weak those of ^Eschines ! As for Curran, Erskine, Burke, &c. &c., Chatham flashes more on the soul in one sentence, than they convey in pages. The lines in which Aristophanes describes the eloquence of Pericles seem well to image that of Chatham : " 'Evrfvdfv opyrj nepiK\tris o I ought also to have excepted Pericles in placing the orators of old below Chatham. Unfortunately we only possess Pericles in Thucydides : and I think the historian has dimmed the brightness, though he may have added to the weight, of the speeches which he has fused into his great work. What we miss in Chatham's speeches is calmness : the calmness of majestic self-conscious strength. Pericles and Demosthenes possessed this. They could thunder : but they were, like the heavens, sublime in other moods besides their thunderstorms. (Life by Thackeray. Lord Mahon's History. Lord Brougham's Historical Sketches of Statesmen.} LORD CAMDEN. LORD CAMPBELL, in his "Lives of the Chancellors," speaks of the pleasure he felt in entering on the memoir of Charles Pratt, afterwards Lord Chancellor of England and Earl Camdeii. It is with pleasure that I echo Lord Campbell's words respecting " one of the brightest ornaments of my profession." And Eton may well be proud of ranking him among her sons ; for Lord Camden " was a profound jurist, and an enlightened statesman his character was stainless in public and in private life when raised to elevated station he continued true to the principles which he had early avowed when transferred to the House of Peers, he enhanced his fame as an asserter of popular privileges when an Ex-Chancellor, by a steady co-operation with his former political associates, he conferred greater benefits 011 his country, and had a still greater 254 LORD CAM I) EX. share of public admiration and esteem than when he presided on the woolsack when the prejudices of the Sovereign and of the people of England produced civil war, his advice would have pre- served the integrity of the empire when America, by wanton oppression, was for ever lost to us, his efforts mainly contributed to the pacification with the new republic and Englishmen to the latest generation will honour his name for having secured personal freedom, by putting an end to arbitrary arrests under general warrants for having established the constitutional right of juries, and for having placed on an imperishable basis the liberty of the press." 4 He was a gentleman by birth, and his family had long been settled at Careswell Priory, near Colhampton, in Devonshire, a county which has truly been said to have always been, and still to be, fertile in illustrious lawyers. Lord Camden's father, Sir John Pratt, was Chief Justice of the King's Bench in George the First's reign ; but he died when his fifth son Charles, the subject of the present memoir, was only ten years old ; so that the future Chan- cellor rose fairly through the ranks of the profession ; nor could any one apply to him the bitter sarcasm, which exhibitions of parental partiality on the Bench have sometimes provoked, that " the ermine of the father was made a begging bag for the son's briefs." Charles Pratt was sent to Eton, and was elected on the founda- tion, soon after his father's death. While very young, he was warned that the slender patrimony which fell to his share as a younger child would do no more than educate him ; and that he must look to that education and his own exertions as his means for rising in the world. Young Pratt understood his position, and applied himself cheerfully to its duties. During the years which he passed at Eton he acquired an unusual amount of classical learning ; and, without doubt, the rough atmosphere of a public school did much in fostering the manly independence of character which marked him in after life. There is, probably, no other place in the world at which so many and so permanent friendships have been formed as at Eton ; and, among the "Amicitice Etonenses " of four centuries, few have been more sincere or more valuable in their consequences than the friend- ship which sprang up at Eton between Charles Pratt, afterwards Earl Camden, and William Pitt, afterwards Earl Chatham. The former 4 Lord Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, vol. v. LORD CAMDEN. 255 owed to it his first legal promotion, his introduction to political life, and his Chancellorship. Nor were the benefits all on one side. Lord Camden's unfailing, uncompromising support, was a tower of strength to the elder Pitt in all his constitutional campaigns ; and the younger great minister of that name derived important aid in the chief crisis of his early career, from the ready aid which Lord Camden gave his old friend's son against the coalesced parties of Fox and Lord North. In 1731, Charles Pratt left Eton for King's. There he continued his classical studies, being, as his nephew George Hardinge informs us, not a plodding methodical reader, but by no means a super- ficial one. " He read with genius," says Hardinge. And at King Henry the Sixth's two royal colleges he formed the classical taste which he never lost, and which is to be traced in all he wrote and in all his speeches. Livy and Claudian are said to have been his favourite authors. Haviug been while a little child destined for the bar by his father, Pratt had been entered at the Inner Temple even before he went to Cambridge ; and during his residence at the university he commenced the surest foundation for professional excellence, by studying the English history and constitution, and the science of jurisprudence, as well as the literary masterpieces of Greece and Rome. It is recorded of him that he found King's divided into the parties of Whigs and Tories, with the former of which he instantly allied himself, and that he stood forward as a College Hampden in resisting the attempted encroachments of some of the collegiate authorities on the general rights of the whole body. Having taken his degree in due course, Pratt, in 1735, left Cambridge for London, and began to keep his terms in the Inner Temple, where he was called to the bar in Trinity Term, 1738. Orders do not necessarily give a living ; a diploma does not involve patients; a wig and gown have no inseparable connec- tion with clients ; and in each and all of the three learned profes- sions, learning alone availeth little. Pratt was long that standard mark for commonplace gibers, a briefless barrister. Lord Campbell well contrasts his position with the early forensic career of Philip Yorke, Lord Hardwicke. "Very differently did young Pratt fare from the man whose rapid career had recently been crowned by his elevation to the woolsack. Yorke, the son of an attorney, himself an attorney's 256 LORD CAMDEN. clerk, and intimate with many attornics, and attornics's clerks, overflowed with briefs, from the day he put on his robe, was in full business his first circuit, and was made Solicitor-General when he had been only four years at the bar. Pratt, the son of the Lord Chief Justice of England, bred at Eton and Cambridge, the associate of scholars and gentlemen, though equally well qualified for his profession, was for many years without a client. He attended daily in the Court of King's Bench, but it was only to make a silent bow, when called on ' to move/ He sate patiently at chambers, but no knock came to the door, except that of a dun, or of a companion, as briefless and more volatile. He chose the Western Circuit, which his father used to ride, and where it might have been expected that his name might be an introduction to him ; but spring and summer, year after year, did he journey from Hampshire to Cornwall, without receiving fees to pay the tolls demanded of him at the turnpike-gates, which were then beginning to be erected. ******* " He persevered for eight or nine years, but, not inviting attor- nies to dine with him, and never dancing with their daughters, his practice did not improve, and his impecuniosity was aggravated/' At last he grew thoroughly dispirited, and made up his mind to give up his profession, and retire to his College. There he was sure of a home and a subsistence from the founder's bounty ; and if he took holy orders, he might hope, in due course of time, to have one of the College livings conferred on him. Before, how- ever, he put his plan into execution, he thought, that, as an act of courtesy, he would call on the leader of his circuit, and make his intention known to him. This was Henley, afterwards Lord Northington, who had formed a favourable opinion of young Pratt, and had uniformly treated him with courtesy and kindness. Henley first tried to jest Pratt out of his purpose, and then spoke to him with so much cheering kindness, about his abilities, and his ultimate certainty of success, that he succeeded in making the almost despairing young barrister promise to try one circuit more, before he deserted the law. On this circuit it happened that Pratt had a brief; that he had Henley as his senior in the case, and that Henley was taken ill, just as the case came on, so that Pratt had to lead it. It also happened that the case was one precisely adapted for an advan- LORD CAMDEN. 257 tageous display of Pratt's best qualities. Few were credulous enough to suppose that such a combination of favourable circum- stances was altogether fortuitous; and there can be little doubt but that Henley followed the dictates of kindness more than those of professional etiquette, and contrived this opportunity for Pratt, to show what stuff he was made of. The opportunity was fully used by Pratt. He opened the case for the plaintiff in a clear and well-arranged address ; examined his own witnesses with art and self-possession ; and cross-examined those of his adversary with discretion as well as with force. Having the additional opportu- nity of replying on the whole case, he did so with animation and eloquence ; was complimented by the judge ; won his verdict, and established his reputation with the many who heard him, and with more who soon heard of him, as an advocate of trustworthy power and prudence. This incident, which laid the foundation of Lord Camden's prosperity, may be called by some a piece of good luck. It should be remembered that such pieces of good luck are utterly thrown away on all, who have not trained themselves, by long and unre- mitting study, to be able to take advantage of them. Opportunity is useless to the hand that cannot grasp it. If Pratt had not dili- gently learned the principles of our laws, especially of the law of evidence ; if he had not been in the assiduous habit of watching how causes were conducted, and reflecting on how they might be conducted; if he had not acquired, by exercise, the powers of analysing theories, and of grouping facts, his Winchester brief would only have exposed him to shame, instead of opening the path to wealth and honour. He would have made a flashy, foolish speech ; he would have floundered with his first witness ; he would have blundered and got bewildered at the first point of law that was started during the case; and, even if he had succeeded in gasping out a reply, he would have concluded the day amid the reproaches of his beaten client, the malicious compassion of his learned friends, and the audible jeers of the non-professional bystanders. Pratt had deserved success, and he obtained it. His first case proved to him " The fruitful parent of a hundred more." He rose rapidly into good practice on his circuit, and acquired a good share of business in Westminster Hall. The best men of the 258 LOKl) CAMDEN. day were glad to have him as their junior in heavy cases ; for he knew his profession thoroughly, and could always be reckoned on as a "Fidus Achates," when not required to assume the post of ^Eneas. He first acquired general public reputation in a case in which he was counsel for a printer, who was prosecuted for an alleged libel, contained in some comment on the conduct of the House of Commons. The Attorney- General had been ordered by the House to prosecute, and the case attracted great public interest. The presiding judge intimated the then usual opinion, that the jury were only to see whether the defendant really published the paper complained of, and whether the allusions in it were really directed to the persons whom the indictment charged to be the objects of the libel. But Mr. Pratt at once asserted the liberal doctrine in favour of the rights of juries on charges of libel, for which he struggled forty years, and which he saw at last solemnly confirmed. He told the jury that they were bound to consider not only the fact of publication, but the question whether the paper was libellous or not. He told them that, unless they believed that the defendant intended it to sow sedition and subvert the constitution, as was charged by the prosecutor, they were bound to acquit him. " ( Are you impannelled/ said he, ' merely to determine whether the defendant had sold a piece of paper value two-pence ? If there be an indictment preferred against a man for an assault with an intent to ravish, the intent must be proved; so if there be an indictment for an assault with intent to murder, the jury must consider whether the assault was in self-defence, or on sudden provocation, or of malice aforethought. The secret intention may be inferred from the tendency ; but the tendency of the alleged libel is only to be got at by considering its contents and its charac- ter; and, because "S r" means "Speaker," and "h h-b ff" means " high-bailiff," are you to find the defendant guilty, if you believe in your consciences that what he has published vindicates the law, and conduces to the preservation of order ? ' He then ably commented upon the absurdity of this prosecution by the House of Commons, who, arbitrarily and oppressively abusing the absolute power which they claimed, would not even tolerate a groan from their victims. Said he, ' There is a common proverb, and a very wise Chancellor affirmed that proverbs are the wisdom of a people, LOSERS MUST HAVE LEAVE TO SPEAK. In the Scrip- LORD CAMUEN. 259 ture, Job is allowed to complain even of the dispensations of Provi- dence, the causes and consequences of which he could not compre- hend. As complaints are natural to sufferers, they may merit some excuse where the infliction is by the act of man, and to common understandings seems wanton and tyrannical. A gentle- man of high birth and unblemished honour is committed to a felon's cell in Newgate, because, being convicted of no offence, he refuses to throw himself before those, for whom he did not feel the profoundest respect, into that attitude of humility which he reserved for the occasion of acknowledging his sins, and praying for pardon before the throne of the Supreme Ruler of the Universe. Must all be sent to partake his dungeon who pity his fate ? The Attorney-General tells a free people that, happen what will, they shall never complain. But, gentlemen, you will not surrender your rights, and abandon your duty. The fatal blow to English liberty will not be inflicted by an English jury.' " 5 Pratt won his verdict, and at once became as well known and esteemed by the country at large, as he had previously been by the members of his own profession. His business steadily increased, and though he for some time took no part in politics, he was on terms of familiar intimacy with his old friend and schoolfellow Pitt, who constantly consulted him on all questions of constitutional or international law. At last, in 1757, when Pitt was enabled to take office on his own terms, he resolved on bringing Pratt into power with him. He made him at once Attorney-General, by a high and unusually summary pro- motion, but of which Sir Charles Pratt (so he now became) proved himself amply worthy. He conducted the few state prosecutions which he was required to institute, with a temper and fairness which did him even more honour than the professional skill which he displayed. It was during this period of his life that he married. The absence of any rumours or anecdotes about his domestic life, is a sure proof that it was both blameless and happy. Sir Charles Pratt remained in office for a short time after the accession of George the Third, and after Mr. Pitt had left the ministry. But on the Chief-Justiceship of the Common Pleas falling vacant, the Attorney-General claimed it ; and he received the appointment in January, 17G2. The Chief-Justiceship of the 5 Lord Campbell's Chancellors, vol. v. p. 2.36. s-2 260 LORI) CAM PEN. Common Pleas was generally looked on as a dignified retirement, on which its possessor was shelved for life. And Pratt, writing to his friend Dr. Davies at this period, says : " I remember you pro- phesied formerly that I should be a chief-justice, or perhaps some- thing higher. Half is come to pass : I am thane of Cawdor ; but the greater is behind, and if that fails me, you are still a false prophet. Joking aside, I am retired out of this bustling world to a place of sufficient profit, ease, and dignity, and believe that I am a much happier man than the highest post in the law could have made me." But it happened that while he was Chief of the Common Pleas, the legal questions arising out of Wilkes's arrest were brought before that court, which instantly became the scene of the greatest excitement and interest, instead of its pristine dullness. Lord Chief-Justice Pratt on this occasion asserted the principles of con- stitutional liberty with manly energy and consummate learning. He denied the legality of a minister's issuing general warrants whereby any individual might be arrested. He also, in another case which was brought before him, decided against the legality of the then common practice of a Secretary of State issuing, on a charge of libel, general warrants to search for and seize papers. The popularity which the Chief-Justice acquired by his decided and constitutional opinion on general warrants, spread far and near. The city of London presented him with the freedom of the corporation in a gold box, and voted that his portrait, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds, should be placed in Guildhall. The corporations of Bath, Dublin, Exeter, and Norwich, followed the example. His fame as the defender of the constitution spread even beyond England, and he was spoken of as THE GREAT LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE PRATT. While he obtained just renown for his conduct on these great constitutional questions, he also proved himself to be an able, an impartial, and a patient judge, in the ordinary matters of litigation that came before him. In 1765, on the establishment of Lord Rockingham's adminis- tration, the Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas was created a Baron of Great Britain, by the name of Baron Camden, of Camden Place, in the county of Kent, with remainder to his heirs male. On the 30th of July, 1766, when Pitt was created Earl of Chatham, and appointed Lord Privy Seal, Lord Camden was called to the LORD CAMDEN. 261 office of Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain, in the room of the Earl of Northington ; and throughout the kingdom his eleva- tion was welcomed with general confidence and satisfaction. He fully maintained, as an Equity Judge, the high reputation which he had acquired, while presiding over a court of Common Law ; and the part taken by him in state affairs, as a member of the House of Lords, was in unison with the wise and constitutional spirit which he had shown before his elevation to the peerage. He was also anxious to benefit his country as a law-reformer. He had prepared to bring forward, with Lord Chatham's sanction and support, a bill for improving and extending the protection of the Writ of Habeas Corpus, and some other measures for the amelioration of our legal system, both in criminal and civil matters; but the confusion soon caused by Lord Chatham's deplorable ill- ness prevented the Chancellor from doing his country the valuable services in these matters which he had designed. On Lord Chatham's total retirement from the councils of his own administration, Lord Camden's situation became peculiarly embarrassing. It was for the purpose of co-operating with Lord Chatham, and in the full expectation of acting always under the auspices of his illustrious friend, that Lord Camden had entered the cabinet. We have observed, in the memoir of Chatham, what a mass of discordant materials that cabinet was ; how it was only possible to keep it together in harmonious organisation by the weight of Lord Chatham's supreme authority. When that was removed, the key-stone of the arch was gone. In the confusion which ensued, Lord Camden saw those members of the government from whose measures he differed the most decidedly obtain the ascendancy. He was tantalised by perpetually renewed and per- petually baffled expectations of Lord Chatham's recovery, and, while his friend even nominally remained in office, he was unwilling to resign. In a letter to Lord Grafton he thus speaks of his posi- tion : " The administration since Lord Chatham's illness is almost entirely altered, without being changed ; and I find myself sur- rounded with persons to whom I am scarce known, and with whom I have no connection." During this interval of Lord Chatham's retirement there was passed without opposition, and almost without public observation, the fatal act, as Lord Campbell truly terms it, "the fatal act imposing a duty on tea and other commodities, when imported into the North American colonies, wliich led to the 2(52 LORD CAMDEN. non-consumption combination, to the riots at Boston, to civil war, to the dismemberment of the empire." After Lord Chatham's resignation, Lord Camden remained for a short time in office under the Duke of Grafton, and he earnestly tried to persuade that nobleman to adopt conciliatory measures, while it yet was time, towards the angry but still loyal American colonists. He also strove hard to dissuade his colleagues from the line of conduct which they adopted towards Wilkes. A meeting of the cabinet was convened in January, 1769, to consider what was to be done respecting that demagogue, at which the Premier spe- cially requested the Chancellor's presence and advice. " He attended the meeting, but with no good effect. The Duke of Grafton treated him with great civility, and was inclined to be governed by his opinion; but what he laid down respecting the law and the constitution was scornfully received by all the others. From thenceforth he constantly absented himself from the cabinet when the two great subjects of internal and colonial policy were to be discussed Wilkes and American coercion. " The public were not then in possession of these secrets. For two years it was remarked that he preserved an impenetrable silence in Parliament, unless when, as Speaker, he put the question, and declared the majority ; but no one suspected that he had, in reality, ceased to be a member of the government. " At last, when Parliament reassembled in the beginning of January, 1770, the Lord Chancellor spoke out. Lord Chatham, after his resignation, to the astonishment of all mankind, not only experienced a great relaxation of his bodily infirmities, but recovered the full energy of his gigantic intellect. On the first day of the session he was in his place, though supported on crutches and swathed in flannel, and having delivered a most violent speech against the measures of the government, affirming that the liberty of the subject had been invaded, not only in the colonies, but at home, he moved as an amendment to the address, that ' the House would with all convenient speed take into consideration the causes of the present discontents, and particularly the proceedings of the House of Commons touching the incapacity of John Wilkes, Esq., depriving the electors of Middlesex of their free choice of a representative.' "Lord Mansfield having taken up the defence of the govern- ment, and insinuated that all their measures must be considered LOKD CAMDKN. 203 as having the full approbation of the noble and learned Lord who held the Great Seal, ' ever considered the champion of popular rights/ the Lord Chancellor left the woolsack, and in a burst of indignation tried to defend his conduct and his consistency. ' I accepted the Great Seal/ said he, * without conditions : I meant not therefore to be trammelled by his Majesty (I beg pardon) by his ministers ; but I have suffered myself to be so too long. For some time I have beheld, with silent indignation, the arbitrary measures of the minister ; I have often drooped and hung down my head in council, and disapproved by my looks those steps which I knew my avowed opposition could not prevent. I will do so no longer ; but openly and boldly speak my sentiments. I now pro- claim to the world, that I entirely coincide in the opinion expressed by my noble friend, whose presence again reanimates us, respecting this unconstitutional and illegal vote of the House of Commons. If, in giving my opinion as a Judge, I were to pay any respect to that vote, I should look upon myself as a traitor to my trust, and an enemy to my country. By their violent and tyrannical conduct, ministers have alienated the minds of the people from his Majesty's government I had almost said, from his Majesty's person. In consequence, a spirit of discontent has spread itself into every corner of the kingdom, and is every day increasing; insomuch, that if some methods are not devised to appease the clamours so universally prevalent, I know not, my lords, whether the people in despair may not become their own avengers, and take the redress of grievances into their own hands/ " Lord Camden's dismissal followed immediately after the delivery of this resolute speech. He now showed himself worthy of fighting abreast of Chatham against the tyrannical yet weak policy which the minister followed both at home and abroad. The Marquis of Rockingham having made a motion in the House of Lords, the design of which was, " to procure a declaratory reso- lution, that the law of the land and the established customs of Parliament were the sole rule of determination in all cases of election ;" long debates ensued upon this question, and the motion was at length overruled by a large majority. The opposers of the question having obtained this proof of their strength, resolved to exert it to advantage ; and a motion was made at a late hour of the night, "that any resolution of the House, directly or indi- i 's Chancellors, vol. v. p. '283. 264 LOUD CAM 1> FA. rectly, impeaching a judgment of the House of Commons in a matter where their jurisdiction is competent, final, and conclusive, would be a violation of the constitutional rights of the Commons, tend to make a breach between the two Houses of Parliament, and lead to a general confusion." The hardiness of this motion, introduced at a late hour of night, roused all the powers of opposi- tion, and in particular those of Lord Camden, who said, " that this motion included a surrender of their most undoubted, legal, neces- sary, and sacred rights, a surrender as injurious to the collective body of the people, to their representatives, and to the Crown, as it was totally subversive of the authority and dignity of that House." The strength of his Lordship's arguments, as well as those of his noble colleagues, lay in the protest which was entered upon the journals on this occasion. We insert the concluding paragraph as a specimen of the spirit of it. After assigning seven different grounds of dissent, it concluded thus : " We think ourselves, therefore, as Peers, and as Englishmen, and freemen, names as dear to us as any titles whatsoever, indispensably obliged to protest against a resolution utterly subversive of the authority and dignity of this House, equally injurious to the collective body of the people, to their representatives, and to the Crown, to which we owe our advice upon every public emergency ; a resolution in law, uncon- stitutional ; in precedent, not only unauthorised, but contradicted ; in tendency, ruinous ; in the time and manner of obtaining it, unfair and surreptitious. And we do here solemnly declare and pledge ourselves to the public, that we will persevere in availing ourselves, as far as in us lies, of every right and every power with which the constitution has armed us for the good of the whole, in order to obtain full relief for the injured electors of Great Britain, and full security for the future against the most dangerous usurp- ation upon the rights of the people, which, by sapping the fun- damental principles of this government, threatens its total dissolution." Though almost despairing of putting any check to the waste of blood and treasure in the American war, and plainly foreseeing the continental war that was sure to arise out of it, he nobly co-operated with Lord Chatham in every effort made by that great man to reconcile England and America. " On the Duke of Grafton's motion respecting the British forces in America, he said, ' I was against this unnatural war from the LORD CAMDEX. 265 beginning. I was against every measure that has reduced us to our present state of difficulty and distress. When it is insisted that we aim only to defend and enforce our own rights, I positively deny it. I contend that America has been driven by cruel neces- sity to defend her rights from the united attacks of violence, oppres- sion, and injustice. I affirm that America has been aggrieved. Perhaps, as a domineering Englishman wishing to enjoy the ideal benefit of such a claim, I might urge it with earnestness and endeavour to carry my point ; but if, on the other hand, I resided in America that I were to feel the effect of such manifest wrong, I should resist the attempt with that degree of ardour so daring a violation of what should be held dearer than life itself ought to enkindle in the breast of every freeman/ Speaking a second time in this same debate, after he had been loudly reproached for the violence of his language, he said : ' Till I am fairly precluded from exercising my right as a Peer of this House, of declaring my senti- ments openly, of discussing every subject submitted to my consi- deration with freedom, I shall never be prevented from performing my duty by any threats, however warmly and eagerly supported or secretly suggested. I do assure your lordships I am heartily tired of the ineffectual struggle I am engaged in. I would thank any of your lordships that would procure a vote of your lordships for silencing me ; it would be a favour more grateful than any other it is in the power of your lordships to bestow ; but until that vote has received your lordships' sanction, I must still think, and, as often as occasion may require, continue to assert that Great Britain was the aggressor, that our acts with respect to America were oppressive, and that if I were an American I should resist to the last such manifest exertions of tyranny, violence and injustice.' " Even after the death of Chatham he still persevered in his oppo- sition. On the formation of the second Buckingham administration he was made President of the Council. He might have had the Great Seal agaiu ; but his age and now infirm health made him decline to resume the exalted but laborious place of Lord Chan- cellor. He spoke in 1782 in favour of acknowledging the legislative independence of Ireland; and he had previously (in 1779) declared \\hat was the true spirit in which the claims of the Irish should be met. "Let us meet them," said he, "with generous kindness. Nothing should be done by halves nothing niggardly or accompanied with apparent reluctance" 266 LORD CAMDEN. He retained office under Lord Shelburne. When that noble- man's ministry was overthrown by the coalition of Fox and Lord North, Lord Camden went into opposition; and particularly signalised himself by the zeal and ability with which he assailed Fox's celebrated India Bill. When the Coalition were driven from power by the younger Pitt, Lord Camden cheerfully and effectively supported the son of his old friend. It was thought that his name and experience would be of benefit to the youthful Premier, and he according consented to resume office, becoming again Pre- sident of the Council. In 1786 the value of his services was recognised by his being raised in the peerage ; and he was created Viscount Bayham of Bayham Abbey in the county of Kent, and Earl Camden. In 1788, on the King's illness, Lord Camden, in concert with Mr. Pitt, conducted the proceedings for providing a Regent and determining his powers. The great battles of the Regency question were fought in the House of Commons : Lord Camden meeting with no formidable opposition in the House of Lords, though every step which he had to take, was resisted, and constant exertion was necessary. On the King's recovery, Lord Camden determined to retire from the fatigues of Parliamentary duty. He had now reached a very advanced period of life. The son of his earliest friend and ancient chief was secure in power ; and the aged statesman felt that he might retire from the toils of politics, without deserting any duty that either patriotism or friendship seemed to impose on him. But there was one Parliamentary question on which he made a memorable exception to the rule of his latter days. This was the Bill to define the law of libel, which was introduced in 1791, and carried in the next session. Lord Brougham truly and eloquently says, in reference to Lord Camden's strenuous exertions in favour of this measure, that " Nothing can be more refreshing to the lovers of liberty, or more gratifying to those who venerate the judicial character, than to contemplate the glorious struggle for his long-cherished principles with which Lord Camden's illustrious life closed. The fire of his youth seemed to kindle in the bosom of one touching on fourscore, as he was impelled to destroy the servile and inconsistent doctrines of others, slaves to mere technical lore, but void of the sound and discrimi- nating judgment which mainly constitute a legal, and above all a judicial, mind. On such passages as follow, the mind fondly and LORD CAMDEN. 267 reverently dwells, thankful that, the pedantry of the profession had not been able to ruin so fine an understanding, or freeze so genial a current of feeling, and hopeful that future lawyers and future judges may emulate the glory and virtue of this great man. " ' It should be imprinted/ he said, ' on every juror's mind that, if a jury find a verdict of publishing and leave the criminality to the judge, they would have to answer to God and their consciences for the punishment which by such judge may be inflicted, be it fine, imprisonment, loss of ears, whipping, or any other disgrace.' 'I will affirm/ added Lord Camden, 'that they have the right of deciding, and that there is no power by the law of this country to prevent them from the exercise of the right if they think fit to maintain it. When they are pleased to acquit any defendant, their acquittal shall stand good until the law of England shall be changed. Give, my lords/ he exclaimed, ' give to the jury or the judge the right of trial. You must give it to one or the other, and I think you can have no difficulty which to prefer. Place the press under the power of the jury, where it ought to be/ On a future stage of the bill, 16th of May, 1792, he began a most able and energetic address to the House in terms which deeply moved all his hearers because, he said, how unlikely it was he should ever address them any more. After laying down the law as he conceived it certainly to be, he added, ' So clear am I of this, that if it were not the law, it should be made so ; for in all the catalogue of crimes there is not one so fit to be determined by a jury as libel. With them leave it, and I have not a doubt that they will always be ready to protect the character of individuals against the pen of slander, and the government against the licentiousness of sedition.' " The opinions of the judges were overruled, and the Act was of purpose made declaratory after the opposition of the law-lords had thus been defeated. The Chancellor, as the last effort to retain the law in judicial hands, asked if Lord Camden would object to a clause being inserted granting a new trial in case the Court were dissatisfied with the verdict for the defendant? 'What/ exclaimed the veteran friend of freedom; 'after a verdict of acquittal ? ' ' Yes/ said Lord Thurlow. ' No, I thank you/ was the memorable reply, and the last words spoken in public by this great man. The bill immediately was passed. Two years 268 LOUD LYTTKLTOX. after, he descended to the grave, full of years and honours, the most precious honours which a patriot can enjoy, the unabated gratitude of his countrymen, and the unbroken consciousness of having, through good report and evil, firmly maintained his principles and faithfully discharged his duty." (Lord Brougham's Historical Sketches. Lord Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors.} LORD LYTTELTON. GEORGE LYTTELTON, the son of Sir Thomas Lyttelton of Hagley in Worcestershire, gave nobility to a family that claimed to be one of the most ancient in the kingdom. His ancestors had posses- sions in the vale of Evesham, Worcestershire, in the reign of Henry III., particularly at South Lyttelton, from which place some antiquarians have asserted they took their name. The great Judge Lyttelton, in the reign of Henry IV., was one of this family ; and from him descended Sir Thomas Lyttelton, who was appointed a Lord of the Admiralty in the year 1727. This gentleman married Christian, daughter of Sir Richard Temple, and maid of honour to Queen Anne, by whom he had six sons and six daughters, the eldest of whom, George, afterwards created Lord Lyttelton, was born at Hagley, in January, 1709. He was educated at Eton together with Pitt, and others whose memoirs appear in this chapter. He is said to have been greatly distinguished for the beauty and elegance of his Latin exercises. And while he was at Eton, his taste for English poetry displayed itself in several pleasing compositions, which gave promise of higher poetical excellence than he can be said afterwards to have obtained. One of these, a supposed " Soliloquy of a Beauty in the Country," shows a sustained elegance and happy terseness, such as are seldom met with in boyish rhymes : SOLILOQUY OF A BEAUTY IN THE COUNTRY. 'Twas night ; and Flavia to her room retir'd, With evening chat and sober reading tir'd ; There, melancholy, pensive, and alone, She meditates o'er the forsaken town : On her rais'd arm reclin'd her drooping iiead, She sigh'd, and thus in plaintive accents said : " Ah, what avails it to be young and fair ; To move with negligence, to dress with care ? LORD LYTTELTOX. 269 What worth have all the charms our pride can boast, If all in envious solitude are lost ? Where none admire, 'tis useless to excel ; Where none are beaux, 'tis vain to be a belle ; Beauty, like wit, to judges should be shown ; Both most are valued, where they best are known. With every grace of nature or of art, We cannot break one stubborn country heart : The brutes, insensible, our power defy ; To love, exceeds a squire's capacity. The town, the court, is Beauty's proper sphere ; That is our Heaven, and we are angels there : In that gay circle thousand Cupids rove, The Court of Britain is the Court of Love. How has my conscious heart with triumph glow'd, How have my sparkling eyes their transport show'd, At each distinguish'd birth-night ball, to see The homage, due to Empire, paid to me ? When every eye was fix'd on me alone, And dreaded mine more than the monarch's frown ; When rival statesmen for my favour strove, Less jealous in their power than in their love. Chang'd is the scene ; and all my glories die, Like flowers transplanted to a colder sky : Lost is the dear delight of giving pain, The tyrant joy of hearing slaves complain. In stupid indolence my life is spent, Supinely calm, and dully innocent : Unblest I wear my useless time away, Sleep (wretched maid !) all night, and dream all day ; Go at set hours to dinner and to prayer, (For dullness ever must be regular.) Now with mamma at tedious whist I play ; Now without scandal drink insipid tea ; Or in the garden breathe the country air, Secure from meeting any tempter there. From books to work, from work to books, I rove, And am, alas ! at leisure to improve ! Is this the life a beauty ought to lead ? Were eyes so radiant only made to read ? These fingers, at whose toucli ev'n age would glow, Are these of use for nothing but to sew ? Sure erring nature never could design To form a housewife in a mould like mine ! O Venus, queen and guardian of the fair, Attend propitious to thy votary's prayer: Let me revisit the dear town again ; Let me be seen ! could I that wish obtain, All other wishes my own power would gain ! From Eton, Lyttelton went to Christ-church, where he main- tained the same reputation for scholarship and abilities which he had previously acquired. 270 LORD LYTTELTON. In the year 1728 he set out on the tour of Europe. On his arrival in Paris he accidentally became acquainted with the Honourable Mr. Poyntz, then our minister at the Court of Ver- sailles, who was so struck with the capacity displayed by young Lyttelton, that he invited him to his house, and employed him in many political negotiations, which he executed with great skill and discretion. On his return from the Continent he sought and obtained a seat in the House of Commons, as representative of the borough of Okehampton in Devonshire. Like his friend Pitt he joined the Opposition, and he made his first speech in the House on the same evening and on the same subject on which Pitt first spoke. Both the young orators attracted general notice, and many prophesied as high Parliamentary exploits from Lyttelton as from Pitt. It has been mentioned in the memoir of Chatham, that Sir Robert Walpole deprived him of his Cornetcy of Horse in revenge for his first speech. On this occasion Lyttelton addressed his friend in an epigram which acquired considerable credit for, at least, the writer. TO WILLIAM PITT, ESQUIRE, ON HIS LOSING HIS COMMISSION. Long had thy virtues marked thee out for fame, Far, far superior to a Cornet's name ; This generous Walpole saw, and grieved to find So mean a post disgrace that noble mind. The servile standard from thy freeborn hand He took, and bid thee lead the patriot band. 1736 Lyttelton was taken, not only into the service, but into the close friendship of Frederick Prince of Wales, who, in 1737, appointed him his secretary, and continued to treat him as his most confidential friend until the time of that Prince's death. This connexion with Prince Frederick made, of course, Lyttelton' s opposition to Sir Robert Walpole more systematic and acrimonious. For many years he took part regularly in every debate in which that statesman's measures were opposed, or any personal attack was directed against him. In 1744, Lyttelton was made one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury. It must be recorded to his praise, that he availed himself of every opportunity given by his rank, his private fortune, and his influence with the Prince of Wales, to promote literature, and relieve the necessities of men of learning. He was LORD LYTTELTON. 271 the generous patron of Fielding, Thomson, Mallet, Young, Ham- mond, and West, and he was the intimate friend of Pope. Henry Fox, in the House of Comnons, taxed Lyttelton with this last- mentioned intimacy, and expressed his indignation that any states- man should associate with a lampooner so unfair and so licentious in his abuse as Pope. Lyttelton on this occasion defended his friend with spirit and success, stating publicly " that he esteemed it an honour to be admitted to the familiarity of so great a poet." In 1741 he married Miss Lucy Fortescue, sister to Matthew Lord Fortescue of Devonshire. After six years of domestic hap- piness he had to bear the heavy affliction of her death. Johnson says sarcastically that " he solaced himself by writi ng a Monody to her memory, without, however, condemning himself to perpetual solitude and sorrow, for he soon after sought to find the same happiness again in a second marriage with the daughter of Sir Robert Rich (1749) ; but the experiment was unsuccessful, and he was for some years before his death separated from this lady." Chalmers, in his biographical notice of Lytteltou, has made some very fair remarks in Lyttelton's justification in answer to the sneers of Johnson. I quite concur with Chalmers, who, after quoting Johnson, says : " This notice of the Monody, which is given in Dr. Johnson's words, has been thought too scanty praise. In truth it is no praise at all, but an assertion and not a just one, that Lord Lyt- telton ' solaced his grief by writing the poem. The praise or blame was usually reserved by Johnson for the conclusion of his lives, but in this case the Monody is not mentioned at all. We have on record, however, an opinion of Gray, which the admirers of the poem will perhaps scarcely think more sympathetic than Johnson's silence. In a letter to Lord Orford, who had probably spoken with disrespect of the Monody, Gray says, ' I am not totally of your mind as to Mr. Lyttelton's elegy, though I love kids and fauns as little as you do. If it were all like the fourth stanza I should be excessively pleased. Nature and sorrow and tenderness are the true genius of such things ; and something of these I find in several parts of it (not in the orange tree) ; poetical ornaments are foreign to the purpose, for they only show a man is not sorry and devotion worse ; for it teaches him that he ought not to be sorry, which is all the pleasure of the thing.' Orford' s Works, vol. v. p. 389. Dr. Johnson is undoubtedly ironical in saying 272 LORD LYTTELTOX. that the author ' solaced his grief in writing the Monody. The poet's grief must have abated, and his mind recovered its tone before he could write at all ; and when this became Mr. Lyttelton's case, he felt it his duty to pay an affectionate tribute to the memory of his lady, who certainly was one of the best of women. His talents led him to do this in poetry, and he no more deserves the suspicion of hypocrisy, than if he had, as an artist, painted an apotheosis, or executed a monument." I will quote two of the stanzas of this Monody, which seem to me to possess much sweetness and grace, as well as to express natural and deep feeling : " Not only good and kind, But strong and elevated was her mind : A spirit that with noble pride Could look superior down On Fortune's smile or frown ; That could, without regret or pain, To virtue's lowest duty sacrifice Or interest, or ambition's highest prize ; That, injur'd or offended, never tried Its dignity by vengeance to maintain, But by magnanimous disdain. A wit that, temperately bright, With inoffensive light All pleasing shone ; nor ever past The decent bounds that Wisdom's sober hand, And sweet Benevolence's mild command, And bashful Modesty, before it cast. A prudence undeceiving, undeceiv'd, That nor too little nor too much believ'd, That scorned unjust suspicion's coward fear, And without weakness knew to be sincere. Such Lucy was, when, in her fairest days, Amidst th' acclaim of universal praise, In life's and glory's freshest bloom, Death came remorseless on, and sunk her to the tomb. * * * * * In vain I look around O'er all the well-known ground, My Lucy's wonted footsteps to descry ; Where oft we us'd to walk, Where oft in tender talk We saw the summer sun go down the sky ; Nor by yon fountain's side, Nor where its waters glide Along the valley, can she now be found : In all the wide-stretch'd prospect's ample bound. No more my mournful eye Can aught of her espy, But the sad sacred earth where her dear relics lie." LORD LYTTELTON. 273 Neither politics nor literature wholly absorbed Lyttelton's mind, and in his manhood he studied deeply and profitably subjects, which in his youth he had treated with levity and indifference. He had been led by the example of others while a young man to entertain, or at least to profess, sceptical opinions. Certainly he at that time had no sure and active faith. To employ the words of Johnson, who on this occasion does Lyttelton justice, "he thought the time now come when it was no longer fit to doubt or believe by chance, and applied himself seriously to the great question. His studies, being honest, ended in conviction. He found that religion was true, and what he had learned he endea- voured to teach, by ' Observations on the Conversion and Apostle- ship of St. Paul/ printed in 1757 : a treatise to which infidelity has never been able to fabricate a specious answer. This book his father had the happiness of seeing, and expressed his pleasure in a letter which deserves to be inserted, and must have given to such a son a pleasure more easily conceived than described : ( I have read your religious treatise with infinite pleasure and satisfaction. The style is fine and clear, the argument close, cogent, and irre- sistible. May the King of kings, whose glorious cause you have so well defended, reward your pious labours, through the merits of Jesus Christ, to be an eye-witness of that happiness, which I don't doubt He will bountifully bestow upon you ! In the mean time I shall never cease to thank God for having endowed you with such useful talents, and given me so good a son. Your affectionate father, THOMAS LYTTELTON/ ' The writer of this letter died in 1751, and Sir George Lyttelton (as he then became) continued his exertions in Parliament, and gradually was raised to posts of higher distinction. In 1754 he resigned his office of Lord of the Treasury, and was made Cofferer to his Majesty's household, and sworn of the Privy Council. After filling the offices of Chancellor and Under Treasurer of the Court of Exchequer, he was, by letters patent, dated 19th November, 1757, created a Peer of Great Britain, by the style and title of Lord Lyttelton, Baron of Frankley, in the county of Worcester. He was a frequent and successful speaker in Parliament. His speech on the Repeal of the Jews' Naturalisation Bill is considered the best ever made by him in the Commons. (26th November, 1753.) The peroration of this is remarkable both for the senti- 27-1 LORD LYTTELTON. merits which it embodies, and for the grace with which they are expressed. Sir George Lyttelton said, " The more zealous we are to support Christianity, the more vigilant should we be in main- taining toleration. If we bring back persecution, we bring back the anti-Christian spirit of Popery ; and when the spirit is here, the whole system will soon follow. Toleration is the basis of all public quiet. It is a charter of freedom given to the mind, more valuable, I think, than that which secures our persons and estates : indeed they are inseparably connected toge- ther; for where the mind is not free, where the conscience is enthralled, there is no freedom. Spiritual tyranny puts on the galling chains, but civil tyranny is called in to rivet and fix them. We see it in Spain and many other countries : we have formerly both seen and felt it in England. By the blessing of God, we are now delivered from all kinds of oppression : let us take care that they may never return." 6 The speech in the House of Lords which added most to his reputation was delivered in the session of 1763, upon a debate concerning the privileges of Parliament, in which he supported the dignity of the Peerage with a depth of knowledge that is said to have surprised the oldest Peers present. Lord Lyttelton' s principal publications are his " Dialogues of the Dead," and his " History of England during the reign of Henry the Second." The idea of the first of these two works was probably suggested by the author's studies of Lucian while an Eton boy. Lord Lyttelton's " Dialogues " were very popular. The characters are well selected, and the conversations are conducted with spirit, and with due regard to the age and national habits of each imaginary interlocutor. The " History " is a very erudite and elaborate composition. Lord Lyttelton commences it by a preli- minary view of the state of England from the death of Edward the Confessor down to Henry the Second's coronation; and the numerous subjects of constitutional interest connected with this monarch's reign, and also with the general state of Christendom at that period, are fully and philosophically investigated. Much new light has been thrown of late years on the Anglo-Saxon and Anglo- Norman periods of our history by the researches of Hallam, Pal- grave, Kemble, Lappenfeldt, Guizot, Thierry, and others ; so that 6 Parliamentary History, vol. xv., p. 131. The speech is said to be printed from a copy corrected by Lord Lyttelton. LORD LYTTELTOX. 275 a book which only gives the opinions entertained before the time of these writers has now little chance of finding a reader. But Lyttelton's " History " deserves a better fate than that of becoming thus obsolete. The subject of it is well chosen, the arrangement is good, and the style clear. The great bulk of it is still useful ; and an edition which should retrench some superfluities, correct some inaccuracies, and embody the pith of the best recent works on the same subjects, would be a standard book for every student of English or general mediaeval history. Lord Lyttelton died in July, 1773. The physician who attended him drew up a very interesting account of Lyttelton's last days } which, as Johnson truly observes, is the best commentary on his character. Part of it is as follows : " On Sunday, about eleven in the forenoon, his Lordship sent for me, and said he felt a great hurry, and wished to have a little conversation with me in order to divert it. He then proceeded to open the fountain of that heart, from whence goodness had so long flowed as from a copious spring. ' Doctor/ said he, ' you shall be my confessor. When I first set out in the world, I had friends who endeavoured to shake my belief in the Christian religion. I saw difficulties which staggered me ; but I kept my mind open to conviction. The evidences and doctrines of Christianity, studied with attention, made me a most firm and persuaded believer of the Christian religion. I have made it the rule of my life, and it is the ground of my future hopes. I have erred and sinned, but have repented, and never indulged any vicious habit. In politics and public life, I have made public good the rule of my conduct. I never gave counsels which I did not at the time think the best. I have seen that I was sometimes in the wrong, but I did not err designedly. I have endeavoured, in private life, to do all the good in my power, and never for a moment could indulge malicious or unjust designs upon any person whatsoever/ " At another time he said, ' I must leave my soul in the same state it was in before this illness : I find this a very inconvenient time for solicitude about anything/ " On the evening, when the symptoms of death came on, he said, ' I shall die ; but it will not be your fault.' When Lord and Lady Valentia came to see his Lordship, he gave them his solemn bene- diction, and said, ' Be good, be virtuous, my Lord ; you must come to this.' Thus he continued giving his dying benediction to all 270 1 1 KXIIY FOX. around him. On Monday morning a lucid interval gave some small hopes, hut these vanished in the evening ; and he continued dying, hut with very little uneasiness, till Tuesday morning, August :2:2, when between seven and eight o'clock he expired, almost with- out a groan." (Johnson's Lives of the Poets. Chalmers* sBioy. Diet.} HENRY FOX. ABOUT the year 1720 there were four sons of commoners at Eton, each of whom became an eminent statesman, and the founder of a peerage. These four were William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham; Charles Pratt, afterwards Earl Camden ; George, afterwards Lord Lyttelton; and Henry Fox, afterwards Lord Holland. I have placed them together in this chapter ; and the last-named of the four now alone remains for consideration. Henry Fox was the second son of Mr. Stephen Fox, by his second wife, Christian Hope, daughter of the Rev. Charles Hope, of Naseby in Lincoln- shire. He was born in September, 1705. He had the misfortune to lose both his parents while he was yet a youth ; and was early allowed to rush into the gaieties and frivolities of fashionable life. He became a reckless gamester, and quickly dissipated the greater part of his patrimony. Family occurrences restored him to independence, but the habits of his youth clung to him through- out life. He left Oxford in 1724, and spent some years on the continent. At Aubigny he became acquainted with the Duchess of Ports- mouth, the mistress of Charles II., whose descendant he some years afterwards married ; and it is said, that from her own lips he then heard what his son has stated in his historical work, that it was her firm persuasion that Charles died of poison. He remained on the continent for several years ; during which time he formed an intimate acquaintance with Lord Hervey, Pope's literary antagonist, and Sir Robert Walpole's staunch poli- tical supporter. On Fox's return to England he was introduced to Walpole, who was pleased with his ready ability, his frank, manly character, and his strong common sense, and who was not easily displeased with faults of the class to which those of Fox HENRY FOX. 277 belonged. Walpole ranked him among his friends, and Sir Robert, as has been mentioned in the memoir of him, was singu- larly warm and cordial in his friendships. By the interest of that minister Mr. Fox was appointed, shortly after his return to England, one of the Commissioners of the Treasury. His robust constitution enabled him to support without illness or incon- venience a close application to business, and a free participation in the convivial indulgences of his Parliamentary friends. In all the graces of elocution, in imagination, and in fluency he was decidedly inferior to his great competitor Pitt ; but he was a strong and close reasoner, he was a ready though a careless speaker, had excellent natural abilities, and quickly acquired great skill in Parliamentary tactics. In 1743, on the fall of Sir Robert's oppo- nents, he was appointed one of the Commissioners of the Treasury ; and in 1746, soon after the abortive attempt of Lord Grenville to assume the Premiership, he was named Secretary at War. Two years before this latter elevation, Fox had married Lady Caroline Lennox, eldest daughter of the Duke of Richmond. The marriage was a clandestine one, and at first gave great offence to the lady's family ; but with the rise of Fox in public life and political influ- ence, his noble father-in-law's prejudices towards him softened, and ultimately he was fully recognised by his wife's relatives. Fox was a warm adherent of the Duke of Cumberland, and drew upon himself no small share of the unpopularity which attached to that prince. He was accused of arbitrary principles, and branded as one of the most corrupt members of a corrupt political school. Still, his talents, his energy, his habits of business, gave him great influence in the House; nor was the King dis- pleased at Fox's adherence to the Duke. In the discussions which took place after the death of Frederick, Prince of Wales, as to the regency bill, Pitt and Fox, the two most rising men of the day, and upon one or other of whom it was generally expected the Premiership would ultimately devolve, began to manifest consi- derable discordance of opinion and political views. Two parties were at this time secretly struggling for pre-eminence in the cabinet. One of these consisted of the Pelhams and their adherents ; the other was headed by the Duke of Cumberland and Bedford. The former party patronised Pitt ; the latter, Fox ; and then was begun the rivalry betwixt these two great men which was perpetuated in their sons. The Pelhamites were successful in 278 HENRY FOX. the struggle ; but Fox was retained in office under them ; and on the death of Mr. Pelham, in 1754, was designed to be Secretary of State by the new Premier, the Duke of Newcastle. It seems pro- bable that Pitt would have been preferred in this instance to his rival, but for the inveterate antipathy which the King was known to entertain towards him. Fox, however, insisted on being leader in the House of Commons, and having a voice in the employment of the secret service money, and the nomination of the Treasury members ; and on these terms being refused, he declined the higher Secretaryship. A very dull personage, Sir Thomas Robinson, a follower of the Duke, was appointed Secretary of State and ministerial leader in the House of Commons ; and Fox, although he retained his office of Secretary at War, became a leader of one of the oppo- sition parties. In the next session the two rivals, Pitt and Fox, finding themselves equally slighted by the Premier, united in their opposition, after a formal reconcilement. The one singled out Lord Mansfield, the then Solicitor-General, as his victim in debate ; the other amused the house at the expense of his colleague in office, Sir Thomas Robinson. An opposition so formidably headed could not be long resisted ; and the Premier made overtures first to Pitt, and latterly to Fox. With the former he failed; but Fox, through the mediation of Lord Waldegrave, was brought to terms, and in November, 1755, appointed Secretary of State. Sir Thomas Robinson was disposed of by being made Master of the Wardrobe. Fox's triumph, however, was but of short duration ; the Duke of Newcastle secretly hated him. The King, vexed at the dismissal of Sir Thomas, and still more by the events of the war, and the loss of Minorca, conceived a dislike to the new Secretary. Fox saw the approaching storm, and foresaw also the instability of the Duke's ministry ; he resolved to quit the sinking ship, and suddenly threw up his em- ployments. On the llth of November, the Duke gave in his own resignation, and the Duke of Devonshire became Premier with Pitt as Secretary at War. In the following year Fox was ap- pointed Paymaster of the Forces. In 1762 his lady was created Baroness Holland; and on April 16th, 1763, he himself was raised to the peerage by the title of Lord Holland, Baron Holland of Foxley, in the county of Wilts. He died at Holland House, near Kensington, July 1, 1775. He SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS. 279 is said to have been equally a man of pleasure and of business, formed for social and convivial intercourse ; of an unruffled temper and frank disposition. No statesman ever acquired more adherents, not merely from political motives, but by the influence of his agree- able manners. He attached them to him by personal friendship, which he fully merited by his zeal in forwarding their interests. He is, however, justly stigmatised by Lord Chesterfield (no severe censor in such matters) " as having no fixed principles of religion or morality, and as too unwary in ridiculing and exposing them." This is to be borne in mind, not only in order to form a proper opinion of Henry Fox, but also in order to do justice to his cele- brated son, Charles James Fox, whose character and career we shall presently have to consider. SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS. THIS once celebrated statesman and popular writer was the third son of John Hanbury, Esq., a South Sea Director, who died in 1734. Charles Hanbury, who assumed the name of Williams, in compliance with the will of his godfather, Charles Williams, Esq. of Caerleon, was born in 1709. He was educated at Eton, and he there made himself a good classical scholar. After leaving Eton, he travelled through various parts of Europe, and on his return, in 1732, married Lady Frances Coningsby, youngest daughter of Thomas Earl of Coningsby. In 1733, he was elected member of Parliament for the county of Monmouth, and immediately became a warm partisan of Sir Robert Walpole, with whom he lived on terms of intimate personal friend- ship. Walpole thoroughly liked, and greatly trusted him. In 1739 he was appointed to the office of Paymaster of the Marines. His name does not often appear as that of a speaker in the Par- liamentary reports ; but there are many ways besides speech- making in which a member may do a minister good service. Williams had an independent fortune ; kept up liberal and elegant hospitality ; and by the charm of his own manners, and the ready brilliancy of his wit, he was admirably calculated to be the centre of a gay and convivial circle, whose members were united in politics, as well as in pleasure. But his principal importance as an ally to the minister consisted 280 SIR CHARLES HAN BURY WILLIAMS. in his power of writing, almost extempore, light pasquinades and tart lampoons on their political opponents, as each passing event prompted either the spirit of malice or the spirit of fun. The greater part of these have lost their interest ; for squibs can only sparkle for a time. But some of Sir Charles's lighter compositions are still popular, and several which are unconnected with politics, are pleasing for their grace and smartness. His ballad, written in 1740, on Lady Ilchester asking Lord Ilchester how many kisses he would have, is a very successful song. The editor of Sir Charles Hanbury's songs (ed. 1822) calls this an imitation of Martial (lib. vi. ep. 34). So it perhaps is ; but the original ideas came from a far superior poet, Catullus. The classical reader will at once remember (as no doubt the author remembered) the " Quseris quot mihi basiationes," &c., and the conclusion to the " Vivamus, mea Lesbia," &c., of the most poetical of all the Latin writers. " Dear Betty, come give me sweet kisses, For sweeter no girl ever gave ; But why, in the midst of our blisses, Do you ask me how many I 'd have ? I 'm not to be stinted in pleasure, Then, prithee, dear Betty, be kind ; For as I love thee beyond measure, To numbers I '11 not be confined. " Count the bees that on Hybla are straying, Count the flowers that enamel the fields, Count the flocks that on Tempe are playing, Or the grains that each Sicily yields ; Count how many stars are in heaven/ Go, reckon the sands on the shore, And when so many kisses you 've given, I still shall be asking for more. " To a heart full of love let me hold thee, A heart that, dear Betty, is thine ; In my arms I '11 for ever enfold thee, And curl round thy neck like a vine. What joy can be greater than this is '. My life on thy lips shall be spent ; But those who can number their kisses, With few will be always content." Catullus here is inimitable, " Aut quain sidera multa, cum tacvt n<>\, Furtivos hominuni vident amores." HENRY FIELDING. 281 In 1746 he was made Knight of the Bath, and soon afterwards was appointed envoy to Dresden, where he displayed great and unexpected talents in negotiation. This was the beginning of a regular diplomatic career, in which his old friend and schoolfellow, Henry Fox, procured him various important appointments, in which his success was by no means uniform. At length, a failure, in 1757, on a mission to St. Peters- burgh, to detach the Empress from a coalition with Austria and France, completely broke his spirits. His health failed, and the powers of his mind were obviously affected. He determined to return to England. An accidental fall on shipboard aggravated the painful symptoms of cerebral disease under which he was suffering ; and after a brief rally on his return, his powers, both bodily and mental, entirely failed, and he died on the 2nd of November, 1759, at the age of fifty years. (Chalmers's Biog. Diet. Life, prefixed to edition of his Works, 1822.) HENRY FIELDING. AMONG the schoolfellows of the five Etonian statesmen whose lives we have just been contemplating, was one, whose career in life was far less brilliant, but whose fame is spread more widely than theirs, and is likely to endure as long. I mean our great novelist, Henry Fielding, whom Byron has truly termed "The prose Homer of human nature." Henry Fielding was born at Sharpham Park, near Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, April 22nd, 1707. His father, Edmund Fielding, had served in the wars of Marlborough, and rose to the rank of Lieutenaut-General. He was nearly related to several noble families. He was twice married, and had a large family by each marriage. Henry Fielding received the earliest part of his education at home, under the Rev. Mr. Oliver, of whose capacity and character we may judge, from the fact that he was the original of Parson Trulliber, in Joseph Andrews. From his superintendence Henry was released, by being sent to Eton, where he remained till he was nearly eighteen. Fielding's high abilities, and his natural love for the classics, obtained him great distinction at Eton ; and from the circum- 282 HENRY FIELDING. stances of his subsequent life, it is evident that he must have acquired principally at Eton that solid and accurate knowledge of the Greek and Latin authors, which is displayed (though never paraded) in all his varied compositions. To judge from the frequency of his allusions to the Odyssey, Homer must have been his favourite author, and the Odyssey his favourite poem. Indeed, there could be no study better calculated to train up such a novelist as Fielding afterwards became, than the constant perusal of this most entertaining, as well as most beautiful poem, in which characters of every class of life are drawn with such liveliness and skill, in which the descriptions are so minute and picturesque, and in which the various threads of the narrative are so skilfully woven together. Fielding's generous and manly character won for him, among his schoolfellows, many friendships that were retained through life, and of which he often felt the substantial advantage in his frequent difficulties and distresses. In the dedication of Tom Jones to Lord Lyttelton, he feelingly acknowledges that noble- man's friendly generosity, to which both the book and its author were indebted for existence. On leaving Eton, Fielding went to the University of Leyden, where he remained for two years, engaged in studying the civil law. He is said to have been a diligent student at Leyden ; and if the means had been afforded him of completing his education as a civilian, there can be little doubt but that he would have acquired wealth and distinction in those courts of this country, which do not follow the rules and principles of the ordinary common law. But, unfortunately, he had not a fair chance given him, of qualifying himself for a profession. General Fielding's increasing family and moderate fortune prevented him from being regular in his remit- tances to his son. Henry's allowance was nominally 200/. a year; but, as he used to remark, " anybody might pay it that would." Unwilling, therefore, to harass his father, or to run in debt abroad, he found it expedient to return to London before the termination of his twenty-first year. It appears, from the preface to one of his plays, that he had very early formed a taste for dramatic composition. His " Don Quixote in England," a comedy which he finished and produced some time after his return to London, was projected and partly written by him while he was at Leyden. Writing for the stage seemed to HENRY FIELDING. 283 offer him, when he found himself thrown on the world, the readiest and the most pleasant means of getting a livelihood; and he accordingly composed play upon play, and farce upon farce, with a rapidity which did not allow him to do himself justice, or to take that high station among the dramatic writers of England which he undoubtedly would have acquired, if he could have paused to correct one drama before he projected half-a-dozen more. Those who remember the late Theodore Hook, or who have read the saddening biographical memoir of him which has lately appeared, can appreciate the temptations and the difficulties of the position, in which Henry Fielding found himself on his return to England, without a profession, without the means of studying for one, without any certain income from his relatives; but with a fresh and creative imagination, a ready pen, high animal spirits, brilliant wit, with a keen relish for social enjoyments, and with powers of shining in conversation, which made his society courted by the high-born and the wealthy, and by men of literary talent in every rank. It cannot be wondered at that, in such circum- stances, he ran an early career of dissipation and folly ; but it is rather to be wondered at and admired in him that his heart never became hardened, nor was his disposition soured. He was never wanting in filial affection and respect, though it cannot be said that the father, to whom he was dutiful, had fully performed a father's duty to him. His friend and biographer, Murphy, says of him, " By difficulties his resolution was never subdued ; on the contrary, they only roused him to struggle through them with a peculiar spirit and magnanimity. When he advanced a little more in life, and his commerce with mankind became enlarged, dis- appointments were observed by his acquaintances to provoke him into an occasional peevishness and severity of animadversion. This, however, had not a tendency to embitter his mind, or to give a tinge to his general temper, which was remarkably gay, and for the most part overflowing with wit, mirth, and good humour." Fielding's plays were not very successful on the stage ; and the nature of their subjects, and the frequent coarseness of their style, prevent them now from having many readers. Fielding's genius, however, sparkles frequently even through the worst of them ; and I strongly suspect some modern writers of resorting to these plays for a little safe pilfering. Fielding's own qualities of careless- ness and independence prevented his dramatic productions from 284 IIKM.'V FIKhDING. obtaining their fair share of applause from the audiences before whom they were represented. He would never trouble himself about stage effect. Murphy, his commentator, who was himself a successful dramatist, considered that these plays were defrauded of much of their due fame by the obstinacy of the author, who showed an undue self-reliance and contempt of public opinion in a branch of literature which, beyond all others, must be swayed by the temper of the multitude. He tells us that Garrick had once attempted in vain to remove a passage, which he saw the author himself was quite conscious was ill-adapted for the stage ; the answer was, " If the scene is not a good one, let them find that out." In the midst of the disapprobation of the house, Garrick retreated to the green-room, where he found the author was indulging himself with champagne and tobacco. What's the matter now, Garrick?" he said; "what are they hissing now?" " Why, the scene I begged you to retrench," observed Garrick ; " I knew it would not do ; and they have so frightened me, that I shall not be able to recollect myself again the whole night." " Oh ! " replied the author, "they have found it out, have they? " As another specimen of the same careless spirit, he chose to pre- sent the world with the farce of " Eurydice " " as it was damned at the theatre-royal Drury Lane." There are two of Fielding's dramatic works which must not be passed over unnoticed. These are his two burlesques of " Pasquin " and " Tom Thumb." The first of these was avowedly written in imitation of the " Rehearsal," and in its turn served Sheridan with a model for his " Critic." " Pasquin," however, had not the success of its predecessor, nor did it receive the admiration which has been justly awarded to its successor. In " Pasquin," Fielding satirised every thing and every body. In particular, he made the three great peaceful professions (if it be not a bull to apply that epithet to law) the objects of his special satire. "The three black Graces, Law, Physic, and Divinity " (as another burlesque writer has called them), united in indignant complaint against this modern Aristophanes. The assumed licence, and the undeniable personality of " Pasquin," were put forward as two main reasons for the celebrated Bill, whereby all dramatic compositions were made subject to the veto of the Chamberlain before they may be repre- sented on the stage. Notwithstanding the ill fate which attended " Pasquin," I HENRY FIELDING. 285 venture to pronounce it a work of the highest talent, if genius be not the more appropriate word. The humour is excellent ; nor do I think that the satire at all oversteps the fair bounds of comic writing. Fielding's other burlesque, " Tom Thumb," had better fortune, and still keeps possession of the stage. It is, however, the barbaric version of Kane O'Hara which is represented ; and they who wish to appreciate this genuine specimen of good-humoured ridicule, must look to Fielding's pages, and not to the theatre. Indeed, in any form, " Tom Thumb " is a play rather to be read than to be seen. Tom Thumb and Glumdalca ought to be left to our imagi- nation, and not to the Property-man. If the popularity of this work of Fielding's pen is to be ascertained by a common test, the number of quotations from it, that are universally current, it will be rated very high indeed. About the year 1733, Fielding married Charlotte, the daughter of Mr. Cradock of Salisbury, a lady of great personal beauty, and possessed of a small fortune of about 1500/. Very nearly at the same time his mother's death made him the proprietor of an estate of 200/. a year. His marriage was one entirely of affection; he loved his wife dearly, and he resolved to bid adieu to the pleasures of the town, and enjoy the comforts of his moderate income in retirement. But the unexpected possession of so large a sum in hard cash, was a temptation which Fielding was unable to resist. Whatever speculative views he might have indulged in on the subject of domestic retirement and limited income, he never seems to have once practically formed a plan for maintaining the inte- grity of his capital. He plunged instantaneously and deeply into every rustic extravagance ; and it may afford a good instance to those who are fond of noting the variety of the courses adopted by the reason and the passions in the same man, to recollect that the describer of Squire Western was fired with the ambi- tion of excelling among fox-hunting squires. He kept a retinue of servants, bought horses and hounds, and threw open his gates to convivial hospitality. When in three years his fortune had completely vanished, he stopped a little to consider his situ- ation ; and then his naturally strong mind, never overcome by difficulties, though it might yield to prosperity, boldly seized on the arduous profession of the law as a resource. He brought to his attendance at the Temple a settled determination to devote himself III'NKY FIELDING. to his profession; and he commenced a course of reading which was only at times chequered by ebullitions of his former reckless- ness and dissipation, after which, it has been remarked, he could at any hour of the night resume his application to the most abstruse professional works. After he was called, he commenced a sedulous attendance at Westminster Hall, and went the western circuit, where he gave promise of eminence; but he now was so frequently and severely attacked with gout, that it became impossible for him to give that regular attendance on circuit and at "Westminster, without which it is impossible for a barrister to keep together any business which his talents and good fortune may have acquired. Yet, under these disadvantages, he did not at once succumb or despair, but worked hard at his profession at home, and compiled two volumes in folio on the criminal law. Murphy says : "This work remains still unpublished in the hands of his brother, Sir John Fielding ; and by him I am informed, that it is deemed perfect in some parts. It will serve to give us an idea of the great force and vigour of his mind, if we consider him pursuing so arduous a study under the exigences of family distress ; with a wife and children whom he tenderly loved, looking up to him for subsistence; with a body lacerated with the acutest pains; and with a mind distracted by a thousand avocations ; and obliged, for immediate supply, to produce, almost extempore, a play, a farce, a pamphlet, or a newspaper. A large number of fugitive political tracts, which had their value when the incidents were actually passing on the great scene of business, came from his pen : the periodical paper, called the ' Champion/ owing its chief support to his abilities ; and though his essays, in that collection, cannot now be so ascertained, as to perpetuate them in this edition of his works, yet the reputation arising to him at the time of publication was not inconsiderable." Like Scott, Fielding, though a juvenile author, did not become a novelist till comparatively late in life. His " Joseph Andrews " appeared in 1742. The main object of Fielding in composing this celebrated novel must certainly have been to ridicule Richardson's "Pamela," which had recently made its appearance ; but Fielding introduced into his story one of the finest creations of his pen, his Parson Adams, one of the most favourite characters in all our works of fiction. HENRY FIELDING. 287 I have before mentioned from what archetype Parson Trulliber was drawn ; it is a more agreeable office to mention the original of Parson Adams. " The reverend Mr. Young, a learned and much esteemed friend of Mr. Fielding's, sat for this picture. Mr. Young was remarkable for his intimate acquaintance with the Greek authors, and had as passionate a veneration for ^Eschylus as Parson Adams ; the over- flowings of his benevolence were as strong, and his fits of reverie were as frequent, and occurred too upon the most interesting occasions. Of this last observation a singular instance is given by a gentleman who served during the last war, in Flanders, in the very same regiment to which Mr. Young was chaplain. On a fine summer's evening, he thought proper to indulge himself in his love of a solitary walk : and accordingly he sallied forth from his tent : the beauties of the hemisphere, and the landscape round him, pressed warmly on his imagination; his heart overflowed with benevolence to all God's creatures, and gratitude to the Supreme Dispenser of that emanation of glory, which covered the face of things. It is very possible that a passage in his dearly beloved JEschylus occurred to his memory on this occasion, and seduced his thoughts into a profound meditation. Whatever was the object of his reflections, certain it is that something did powerfully seize his imagination, so as to preclude all attention to things that lay immediately before him ; and, in that deep fit of absence, Mr. Young proceeded on his journey, till he arrived very quietly and calmly in the enemy's camp, where he was, with difficulty, brought to a recollection of himself, by the repetition of Qui va Id ? from the soldiers upon duty. The officer who commanded, finding that he had strayed thither in the undesigning simplicity of his heart, and seeing an innate goodness in his prisoner, which commanded his respect, very politely gave him leave to pursue his contempla- tions home again. Such was the gentleman, from whom the idea of Parson Adams was derived ; how it is interwoven into the History of Joseph Andrews, and how sustained with unabating pleasantry to the conclusion, need not be mentioned here, as it is sufficiently felt and acknowledged." l About two years after the appearance of Joseph Andrews, Fielding published his History of the Life of the late Jonathan IVUd the Great. 1 Murphy's Memoir of Fielding, p. 60. 288 1!KN1!Y Fl HI/DING. I draw particular attention to this work, not only on account of the graphic power which Fielding has displayed in it, but also because it establishes his right to be considered as a writer who earnestly desired to inculcate true principles of thought and action, and who loved to expose the hollowness of that greatness which has not truth for its foundation. I quote therefore Fielding's account of his objects and his motives which caused him to write Jonathan Wild. " I solemnly protest/' says he, " that I do by no means intend, in the character of my hero, to represent human nature in general, such insinuations must be attended with very dreadful conclusions : nor do I see any other tendency they can naturally have, but to encourage and soothe men in their villanies, and to make every well-disposed man disclaim his own species, and curse the hour of his birth into such a society. For my part, I understand those writers, who describe human nature in this depraved character, as speaking only of such persons as Wild and his gang ; and, I think, it may be justly inferred, that they do not find in their own bosoms any deviation from the general rule. Indeed it would be an insufferable vanity in them, to conceive themselves as the only exception to it. But without considering Newgate as no other than human nature with its mask off, which some very shameless writers have done, I think we may be excused for suspecting, that the splendid palaces of the great are often no other than Newgate with the mask on ; nor do I know anything w r hich can raise an honest man's indignation higher, than that the same morals should be in one place attended with all imaginable misery and infamy, and, in the other, with the highest luxury and honour. Let any impartial man in his senses be asked, for which of these two places a composition of cruelty, vice, avarice, rapine, insolence, hypocrisy, fraud, and treachery, is best fitted ? Surely his answer must be certain and immediate ; and yet I am afraid all these ingredients, glossed over with wealth and a title, have been treated with the highest respect and veneration in the one, while one or two of them have been condemned to the gallows in the other. If there are, then, any men of such morals, who dare call themselves great, and are so reputed, or called, at least by the deceived multitude, surely a little private censure by the few, is a very moderate tax for them to pay, provided no more was to be demanded; but however the glare of riches and awe of title may dazzle and terrify HENEY FIELDING. 289 the vulgar ; nay, however hypocrisy may deceive the more dis- cerning, there is still a judge in every man's breast, which none can cheat or corrupt, though perhaps it is the only uncorrupt thing about him. And yet, inflexible and honest as this judge is (however polluted the bench be on which he sits) no man can, in my opinion, enjoy any applause, which is not adjudged to be his due. Nothing seems to be more preposterous, than that, while the way to true honour lies so open and plain, men should seek faults by such perverse and rugged paths ; that, while it is so easy, and safe, and truly honourable to be good, men should wade through difficulty and danger, and real infamy, to be great, or, to use a synonimous word, villains. Nor hath goodness less advan- tage, in the article of pleasure, than of honour, over this kind ot greatness. The same righteous judge always annexes a bitter anxiety to the purchases of guilt, whilst it adds double sweetness to the enjoyments of innocence and virtue ; for fear, which, all the wise agree, is the most wretched of human evils, is, in some degree, always attending the former, and never can, in any manner, molest the happiness of the latter. This is the doctrine which I have endeavoured to inculcate in this history; confining myself, at the same time, within the rules of probability : for, except in one chapter, which is meant as a burlesque on the extravagant account of travellers, I believe, I have not exceeded it. And though, perhaps, it sometimes happens, contrary to the instances I have given, that the villain succeeds in his pursuit, and acquires some transitory, imperfect honour or pleasure to himself for his iniquity ; yet, I believe, he oftener shares the fate of Jonathan Wild, and suffers the punishment, without obtaining the reward. As I believe it is not easy to teach a more useful lesson than this, if I have been able to add the pleasant to it, I might flatter myself with having carried every point. But, perhaps, some apology may be required of me, for having used the word greatness, to which the world has annexed such honourable ideas, in so disgraceful and contemptuous a light. Now if the fact be, that the greatness, which is commonly worshipped, is really of that kind, which I have here represented, the fault seems rather to lie in those, who have ascribed to it those honours, to which it hath not, in reality, the least claim. The truth, I apprehend, is, we often confound the ideas of goodness and greatness together, or rather include the former in our idea of the latter. If this be so, it is surely a great 290 IIKXHY FIELDING. error, and no less than a mistake of the capacity for the will. In reality, no qualities can be more distinct : for as it cannot be doubted, but that benevolence, honour, honesty, and charity, make a good man ; and that parts and courage are the efficient qualities of a great man; so it must be confessed, that the ingredients which compose the former of these characters, bear no analogy to, nor dependence on, those which constitute the latter. A man may therefore be great, without being good, or good, without being great. However, though the one bear no necessary depend- ence on the other, neither is there any absolute repugnancy among them, which may totally prevent their union ; so that they may, though not of necessity, assemble in the same mind, as they actually did, and all in the highest degree, in those of Socrates and Brutus ; and, perhaps, in some among us. I at least know one, to whom Nature could have added no one great or good quality, more than she hath bestowed on him. Here then appear three distinct characters ; the great, the good, and the great and good. The last of these is the true Sublime in human nature ; that elevation, by which the soul of man, raising and extending itself above the order of this creation, and brightened with a certain ray of divinity, looks down on the condition of mortals. This is indeed a glorious object, on which we can never gaze with too much praise and admiration. A perfect work ! the Iliad of Nature ! ravishing and astonishing, and which at once fills us with love, with wonder, and delight. The second falls greatly short of this perfection, and yet hath its merit. Our wonder ceases ; our delight is lessened ; but our love remains : of which passion goodness hath always appeared to me the only true and proper object. On this head it may be proper to observe, that I do not conceive my good man to be absolutely a fool or a coward ; but that he often partakes too little of parts or courage, to have any pretension to greatness. Now as to that greatness, which is totally devoid of goodness, it seems to me in nature to resemble the false sublime in poetry ; where bombast is, by the ignorant and ill- judging vulgar, often mistaken for solid wit and eloquence, whilst it is in effect the very reverse. Thus pride, ostentation, insolence, cruelty, and every kind of villainy, are often construed into true greatness of mind, in which we always include an idea of goodness. This bombast greatness, then, is the character I intend to expose ; and the more this prevails in, and deceives the world, taking to HENRY FIELDING. 291 itself not only riches and power, but often honour, or at least the shadow of it, the more necessary it is to strip the monster of these false colours, and show it in its native deformity ; for, by suffering vice to possess the reward of virtue, we do a double injury to society, by encouraging the former, and taking away the chief incentive to the latter. Nay, though it is, I believe, impossible to give vice a true relish of honour and glory, or, though we give it riches and power, to give it the enjoyment of them ; yet it con- taminates the food it cannot taste; and sullies the robe, which neither fits nor becomes it, till virtue disdains them both." This admirable satire is written throughout on the plan which the author thus indicates. Not only is roguery in low places shown to be the same thing in grain as villainy in higher classes ; but all the forms and developments in which spurious greatness loves to exhibit itself, such as daring, resolution, skill, presence of mind, and the like, are shown to be qualities commonly displayed by the most execrable ruffians in the very dregs of society. The character which Fielding draws of his Ideal Great Man at the end of the narrative, is perfect. I quote it the more readily, because this work of Fielding's is by no means so universally read and appre- ciated, as is the case with his other novels. " We will now endeavour to draw the character of this Great Man : and by bringing together those several features as it were of his mind, which lie scattered up and down in this history, to pre- sent our readers with a perfect picture of greatness. "Jonathan Wild had every qualification necessary to form a great man. As his most powerful and predominant passion was ambition, so nature had, with consummate propriety, adapted all his faculties to the attaining those glorious ends to which this passion directed him. He was extremely ingenious in inventing designs, artful in contriving the means to accomplish his pur- poses, and resolute in executing them : for as the most exquisite cunning, and most undaunted boldness qualified him for any under- taking ; so was he not restrained by any of those weaknesses which disappoint the views of mean and vulgar souls, and which are comprehended in one general term of honesty, which is a cor- ruption of HONOSTY, a word derived from what the G recks call an Ass. He was entirely free from those low vices of modesty and good-nature, which, as he said, implied a total negation of human greatness, and were the only qualities which absolutely rendered 292 HENRY FIELDING. a man incapable of making a considerable figure in the world. His avarice was immense : but it was of the rapacious, not of the tenacious kind; his rapaciousness was indeed so violent, that nothing ever contented him but the whole ; for, however consider- able the share was, which his coadjutors allowed him of a booty, he was restless in inventing means to make himself master of the smallest pittance reserved by them. He said laws were made for the use of Prigs only, and to secure their property ; they were never therefore more perverted, than when their edge was turned against these; but that this generally happened through their want of sufficient dexterity. The character which he most valued himself upon, and which he principally honoured in others, was that of hypocrisy. His opinion was, that no one could carry Priggism very far without it ; for which reason, he said, there was little greatness to be expected in a man who acknowledged his vices ; but always much to be hoped from him who professed great virtues : wherefore, though he would always shun the person whom he discovered guilty of a good action, yet he was never deterred by a good character, which was more commonly the effect of profession than of action : for which reason, he himself was always very liberal of honest professions, and had as much virtue and goodness in his mouth as a saint ; never in the least scrupling to swear by his honour, even to those who knew him the best ; nay, though he held good-nature and modesty in the highest con- tempt, he constantly practised the affectation of both, and recom- mended this to others, whose welfare, on his own account, he wished well to. He laid down several maxims, as the certain methods of attaining greatness, to which, in his own pursuit of it, he constantly adhered. As, 1. Never do more mischief to another, than was necessary to the effecting his purpose ; for that mischief was too precious a thing to be thrown away. 2. To know no distinction of men from affection ; but to sacrifice all with equal readiness to his interest. 3. Never to communicate more of an affair than was necessary, to the person who was to execute it. 4. Not to trust him who hath deceived you, nor who knows he hath been deceived by you. 5. To forgive no enemy; but to be cautious and often dilatory in revenge. HENRY FIELDING. 293 6. To shun poverty and distress, and to ally himself as close as possible to power and riches. 7. To maintain a constant gravity in his countenance and be- haviour, and to affect wisdom on all occasions. 8. To foment eternal jealousies in his gang, one of another. 9. Never to reward any one equal to his merit ; but always to insinuate that the reward was above it. 10. That all men were knaves or fools, and much the greater number a composition of both. 11. That a good name, like money, must be parted with, or at least greatly risked, in order to bring the owner any advantage. 12. That virtues, like precious stones, were easily counterfeited ; that the counterfeits in both cases adorned the wearer equally, and that very few had knowledge or discernment sufficient to distinguish the counterfeit jewel from the real. 13. That many men were undone by not going deep enough in roguery : as in gaming any man may be a loser who doth not play the whole game. 14. That men proclaim their own virtues, as shopkeepers expose their goods, in order to profit by them. 15. That the heart was the proper seat of hatred, and the coun- tenance of affection and friendship. He had many more of the same kind all equally good with these, and which were after his decease found in his study, as the twelve excellent and celebrated rules were in that of King Charles the First ; for he never promulgated them in his lifetime, not having them constantly in his mouth, as some grave persons have the rules of virtue and morality, without paying the least regard to them in their actions : whereas our hero, by a constant and steady adherence to his rules in conforming every thing he did to them, acquired at length a settled habit of walking by them, till at last he was in no danger of inadvertently going out of the way ; and by these means he arrived at that degree of greatness, which few have equalled ; none, we may say have exceeded : for, though it must be allowed that there have been some few heroes, who have done greater mischiefs to mankind, such as those who have be- trayed the liberty of their country to others, or have undermined and overpowered it themselves ; or conquerors who have im- poverished, pillaged, sacked, burnt, and destroyed the countries 201. II r.NUY FIELDING. and cities of their fellow-creatures, from no other provocation than that of glory ; i.e. as the tragic poet calls it, " a privilege to kill, A strong temptation to do bravely ill ; " yet if we consider it in the light wherein actions are placed in this line, " Lretius est, quoties magno tibi constat honestum," when we see our hero, without the least assistance or pretence, setting himself at the head of a gang, which, he had not any shadow of right to govern ; if we view him maintaining absolute power, and exercising tyranny over a lawless crew, contrary to all law, but that of his own will ; if we consider him setting up an open trade publicly, in defiance, not only of the laws of his country, but of the common sense of his countrymen ; if we see him first contriving the robbery of others, and again the defrauding the very robbers of that booty, which they had ventured their necks to acquire, and which without any hazard they might have retained : here sure he must appear admirable, and we may chal- lenge not only the truth of history, but almost the latitude of fiction to equal his glory. " Nor had he any of those flaws in his character, which, though they have been commended by weak writers, have (as I hinted in the beginning of this history) by the judicious reader been cen- sured and despised. Such was the clemency of Alexander and Caesar, which nature had so grossly erred in giving them, as a painter would, who should dress a peasant in robes of state, or give the nose, or any other feature of a Venus, to a satyr. What had the destroyers of mankind, that glorious pair, one of whom came into the world to usurp the dominion, and abolish the constitution of his own country ; the other to conquer, enslave, and rule over the whole world, at least as much as was well known to him, and the shortness of his life would give him leave to visit ; what had, I say, such as these to do with clemency ? Who cannot see the absurdity and contradiction of mixing such an ingredient with those noble and great qualities I have before mentioned. Now in Wild, every thing was truly great, almost without alloy, as his imperfections (for surely some small ones he had) were only such as served to denominate him a human creature, of which kind none ever arrived at consummate excellence : but surely his whole HENRY FIELDING. 295 behaviour to his friend Heartfree is a convincing proof, that the true iron or steel greatness of his heart was not debased by any softer metal. Indeed, while greatness consists in power, pride, insolence, and doing mischief to mankind ; to speak out while a great man and a great rogue are synonymous terms, so long shall Wild stand unrivalled on the pinnacle of GREATNESS." Many of the comic touches in this tale are inimitable. Such for instance is the scene between Jonathan Wild and the Count La Ruse, when " The two friends sat down to cards, a circumstance which I should not have mentioned, but for the sake of observing the prodigious force of habit ; for, though the Count knew, if he won ever so much of Mr. Wild, he should not receive a shilling, yet could he not refrain from packing the cards ; nor could Wild keep his hands out of his friend's pockets, though he knew there was nothing in them." The gloomiest period of Fielding's life came soon after the pub- lication of these novels. Repeated and severe illness prevented him from attending not only to his business as a lawyer, but to the miscellaneous labours of his pen, while it brought with it the train of additional expenses and vexatious attendant on sickness. At the same time, his wife, to whom he was deeply attached, was afflicted with a permanent and dangerous disorder, and he beheld the object of his fondest affections gradually sunk by his own follies, from comfort and even opulence, to meet a slowly but steadily approaching death in the midst of hopeless penury. On her decease, the vehemence of his sorrow and self-reproach made his friends apprehensive that the blow had deprived him of reason. Time, however, restored his wonted activity and energy. On the breaking out of the rebellion in 1745, he gave a spirited sup- port to government, in a periodical termed " The True Patriot ;" and, with the same view, conducted a similar work in 1748, called " The Jacobite's Journal." It is to this period, when he probably lived with some of his nearest relatives, that we can best refer an anecdote, apparently authentic, which strikingly demonstrates how little selfishness there was in the dissipation or sensuality of Fielding, and how easily he could be imprudent at the dictation of his feelings, lie had been, for a considerable period, in arrears with the payment of some parish taxes, for a house in Beaufort buildings, and the collector had repeatedly called. In his diffi- culty, Fielding applied to Tonson, who forwarded to him ten or 206 IIKNK'Y FIKLDING. twelve guineas on the deposit of a few sheets of some work on hand. While returning in the evening with his money, he met an old college friend, from whom he had been long separated, and the opportunity for a social bottle in a coffee-room was not to be neglected. In the course of the friendly and confidential conver- sation which naturally followed, Fielding discovered that his friend was unfortunate, and forgetting all [ his own woes in the possession of a few guineas, which was probably the chief dis- tinction between them at the time, he emptied the contents of his pocket into that of his friend. On returning he told his story and the fate of the money to his sister Emilia, who answered that the collector had called in his absence. " Friendship," he said, " has called for the money, and had it. Let the^ collector call again." At the age of forty-three, Fielding gladly accepted the office of a paid metropolitan justice, which gave him the ^ means of existence ; though the situation was far inferior in emolument as well as in respectability to what such an appointment is at present. Fielding's marvellous powers of discerning the true workings of the human heart, and his keen perception of character must have been kept in constant exercise while he filled this office, which to many would have been repulsive, but which presented him with an infinite variety of all those scenes which he loved to watch and to depict ; both those wherein occur the apparently strange truths and hard realities of common daily life, as well as scenes of startling crime and complicated villainy. I have mentioned Fielding's two first novels ; they would have been enough to ensure him fame, but it is his third work, " Tom Jones," which has given him the European celebrity which is attached to his name. I use the term " European celebrity," be- cause translations of this work are even more popular abroad, than the original is here ; and foreign critics far outvie Fielding's countrymen in their praises of it. La Harpe, for instance, goes the length of calling " Tom Jones," " le premier roman du monde, et le livre le mieux fait de I' Angleterre." Fielding says in this preface, that he was engaged on this work for many years ; and the results of care and artistic skill are visible not only in the variety of characters which are introduced, the individuality which each of these possesses, and the consistent appropriateness of the language and actions ascribed to each, but also in the admirable HENRY FIELDING. 297 arrangement of the events of the story. Coleridge has pro- nounced a high eulogium on this, and he adds to it a beautiful and felicitous simile, which describes some of Fielding's peculiar merits more vividly than can be done by any formal definitions, or detached examples. The passage of Coleridge which I refer to is as follows : " What a master of composition Fielding was ! Upon my word, I think the ' (Edipus Tyraunus/ ' The Alchemist/ and ' Tom Jones/ the three most perfect plots ever planned. And how charming, how wholesome Fielding always is. To take him up after Richardson is like emerging from a sick room heated by stoves into an open lawn, on a breezy day in May/' (Table Talk, Vol. i.) Coleridge, La Harpe and Byron are sufficient witnesses of the admiration which Fielding inspires in the most gifted and highly cultured minds. But, like Shakspeare, he is the idol not merely of the most learned and refined, but of every class of readers. Probably "Tom Jones" is the most universally read work of fiction in the language. Criticism on such a book is superfluous. But there is a reproach commonly urged against Fielding, espe- cially when " Tom Jones" is mentioned, which must not be left unnoticed, though to some extent it must remain unanswered. Fielding is accused of coarseness and immorality. Coarse he undoubtedly is when his subject leads him to describe coarse scenes and personages. But I do not think that he ever goes out of his way to find filth, as Swift does, or that he wallows in it when it lies in his path. As for the other branch of the charge, if it mean that the general object of any of Fielding's writings was immoral, or that he ever made vice attractive, or scoffed at virtue, the imputation is wholly false. Fielding's favourite characters, and which he holds up to our esteem most earnestly, are always pure and good. Such, for instance, are the Heartfrees, All- worthy, and Amelia Booth. He never narrates a vicious adventure without making it bring ridicule as well as suffering on those engaged in it. But if it be meant that Fielding narrates adven- tures of this description more frequently and more in detail than was necessary, the charge must, with regret and shame, be admitted to be too true. Still it only shows that he has laid himself open to the same objection which applies to nearly all the greatest comic and satiric writers. Until Aristophanes, Rabelais, Swift, 298 IIENIIY FIELDING. Dryden, and many more are banished from our libraries I cannot see that Fielding ought to be ostracised. We must also discrim- inate how much of this censure applies to the individual and how much to the age in which he lived. I do not mean that change of place or time can change the standards of Right and Wrong, of Purity and Licentiousness ; but where a writer is gross in a gross age, it only shows that he has not the singular virtue of rejecting the taint of evil communications ; whereas, he who writes licentiously in defiance of custom and example, must draw his impurities from the foul depths of his own bad heart. I gladly on this disagreeable subject refer to Sir Walter Scott's defence of Swift, a far worse offender than Eielding. Scott says " The best apology for this unfortunate perversion of taste, indulgence of caprice, and abuse of talent is the habits of the times and situation of the author. In the former respect, we should do great injustice to the present day by comparing our manners with those of the reign of George I. The writings even of the most esteemed poets of that period contain passages which in modern times would be accounted to deserve the pillory. Nor was the tone of conversation more pure than that of composition ; for the taint of Charles the Second's reign continued to infect society until the present reign, when, if not more moral, we have become at least more decent than our fathers." ' Scott quotes, in a note to this passage, several curious proofs of how gross (if judged of by modern rules) the conversation of even ladies of the highest rank used to be, fifty or sixty years before the time when he was writing. He might, in fact, have done more than claim for us a superiority in this respect over our fathers. We are entitled to vary the celebrated boast of Sthenelus, and say ' H/iteis TOI MHTPflN fiey' a/j.elfj.ovfs ev^6/j.eff elvai. Fielding's last novel was his " Amelia," a work in which some have fancied that they could trace symptoms of declining genius. This book certainly wants the vigour and variety of " Tom Jones," but it is itself full of interest, power, and pathos. The character of Justice Thrasher is as severely and strongly drawn, as any in Fielding's other works ; and neither he nor any other writer has surpassed the fearful truthfulness of the prison scenes. Above 1 Life of Swift, p. 385. GRAY. 299 all, Fielding has made his heroine, throughout the story, an object of our admiration, and also of our anxious sympathy and interest : unlike the good personages in many novels, who are made by their authors so painfully meek, and who bear their sufferings with such elaborate propriety, that they seem fit for nothing but to be victims, and the reader feels quite disappointed when any good fortune befalls them. Fielding's last publication was " The Covent-garden Journal, by Sir Alexander Drawcansir, Knight, Censor-general of Great Britain." This periodical, published twice a-week, he continued for a year, at the end of which the number and extent of his disorders induced him to make a last effort for recovery by a voyage to Portugal. In an account of his voyage, the last produc- tion of his active pen, he gives a mournful picture of the state of his health, while his remarks, although full of humour and his wonted vivacity, show occasional depression of spirits, and more than his usual sarcasm. He survived his arrival in Lisbon but two months, and died on the 8th of October, 1754, in the 48th year of his age. (Scott's Lives of the Novelists. Life, by Murphy. Cunningham's Brit. Biog.} GEAY. OF all the men of genius whom Eton has educated, there is no one who has blended his fame more closely with hers, than the poet Gray. Every reader of his poems is reminded or informed of Eton's beauties and glories; and very few of the hundreds who annually visit or revisit Eton, look upon the old College towers, and the fair fresh scenery around them, without feeling Gray's exquisite stanzas almost spontaneously revive in the memory. THOMAS GRAY was born in Cornhill, on the 16th of December, 1716. He was the fifth among twelve children, of Mr. Philip Gray, a citizen and scrivener of London, and was the only one of the twelve who outlived the period of infancy. Probably much of Gray's peculiarly retiring and sensitive character was owing to the circumstance of his thus being brought up an only child; and, though his father lived for many years after Gray had arrived at early manhood, the future poet was emphatically " the only child of his mother ;" for the father, a 300 c:i,'AY. harsh, selfish, violent, and unprincipled man, refused to put himself to any expense, or to take any trouble about his son's education; over which his mother watched with unremitting tenderness and care. Gray repaid his mother's love with the deepest reverence and affection to the end of her life. She lived long enough to witness her son's celebrity ; and they frequently resided together. To quote the beautiful lines of Pope : " Him did the tender office long engage To rock the pillow of reposing age, With lenient arts extend a Mother's breath, Make Languor smile, and smooth the bed of Death, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, And keep a while one parent from the sky." Gray's mother died in 1753, and, according to his friend, Mason, Gray, for many years afterwards, never mentioned her name without a sigh. Gray was indebted to this parent, not only for the rudiments of education which he learned from her lips, while at home, but for being sent to Eton, where Mr. Antrobus, a brother of his mother, was then an assistant-master. Gray was placed under his care ; and at Eton he passed many years of industry and happiness, until 1734, when he entered as a pensioner at Peterhouse, in Cambridge. Gray formed, at Eton, a friendship with Horace Walpole : and one more cordial and permanent with Richard West ; the affec- tionate intimacy of those two kindred spirits was only terminated by West's death; and it forms one of the most pleasing features in Gray's Biography. The two friends were temporarily separated on leaving Eton: West going to Oxford, and Gray to Cambridge; but they were regular correspondents, and their published letters are some of the most interesting and agreeable specimens of our epistolatory literature. Gray found very little gratification at Cambridge in the society and manners of the young university men who were his contempo- raries. They ridiculed his sensitive temper and retired habits, and gave him the nickname of " Miss Gray," for his supposed effeminacy. Nor does Gray seem to have lived on much better terms with his academic superiors. He abhorred mathematics, with the same cordiality of hatred which Pope professed towards them, GRAY. 301 and at that time concurred with Pope in thinking that the best recipe for dullness was to " Full in the midst of Euclid plunge at once, And petrify a genius to a dunce." " You must know," says Gray, in a letter written by him in his second year at Cambridge, to West, at Oxford, " You must know that I do not take degrees, and after this term shall have nothing more of College impertinencies to undergo." It must not, how- ever, be supposed, that Gray's time at Cambridge was spent in idleness. He was at all times a diligent and systematic reader. Besides improving his acquaintance with the classics, he paid great attention, at this period, to modern languages and literature; and some of his Latin poems, and translations into English from the classical writers, were written by him during the first year that he spent at Cambridge. In the spring of 1739, Gray set out, in company with Horace Walpole, and at his request, on a tour through France and Italy. They passed the following winter at Florence with Mr. (afterwards Sir) Horace Mann, the envoy at that court; and after visiting Rome and Naples, and seeing the remains of Herculaneum, which had only been discovered the year before, they passed eleven months more at Florence. While here, Gray commenced his Latin poem "De Principiis Cogitandi," which shows how dili- gently and successfully he had studied the best features of Lucre- tius. There is, however, nothing in it to tempt a second reading ; but there is another Latin poem of Gray's, written by him during his travels, which is equal to even his best English poems for the originality and grandeur of its thoughts, as well as for the grace of its diction. This is his Alcaic Ode, written in the Album of the Grande Chartreuse in Dauphiny, in August, 1741. If the reader will turn back to the memoir of Robert Boyle, he will see the effect produced on that celebrated man by the wild scenery of this renowned spot. There is an admirable descrip- tion of it in one of Gray's letters to his mother ; and it inspired in him the following majestic stanzas : " Oh Tu, severi Religio loci, Quocunque gaudes nomine (non leve Nativa nam certe fluenta Numen habet veteresque sylvas ; 302 OKAY. " Prcesentiorem et conspicimus DC inn Per invias rupes, for a per juga, Clivosque prceruptos, sonantes Inter aquas, nemommqiw noctem ; " Quam si repostus sub trabe citrea Fulgeret auro, et Phidiaca manu) Salve vocanti rite fesso, et Da placidam juveni quietem. " Quod si invidendis sedibus et frui Fortuna sacra lege silentii Vetat volentem, me resorbens In medios violente fluctus : " Saltern remote da, Pater, angulo Horas senectse ducere liberas ; Tutumque vulgari tumultu Surripias hominumque curia." Let those who sneer at modern Latin poetry, try to produce anything from Horace that is superior to this ode, especially to the lines which I have Italicised. If it be said that Gray might have written his ideas in English, let the person who says so, try to turn these Alcaics into English, and see what appearance they will wear. They are as incapable of being translated without their force and grace evaporating in the process, as Horace is. The genius of every language is peculiarly adapted for the expression of some particular trains of thought. The Latin is incomparably the finest vehicle for such ideas as Gray felt at the Grand Chartreuse. This is no disparagement to our own language. Ours has its peculiar powers and graces, more numerous than those of the Latin, though different in kind. Can Shakespeare be Latinised ? I will bring together here one or two more specimens of Gray's Latin poetry. The first is a stanza of which Byron deeply felt the beauty and pathos, and which is the theme of one of the best of his minor poems ; I mean of the one that commences thus : " There's not a joy the world can give like what it takes away," The Latin lines of Gray which inspired Byron, are : &c. " lachrymarum fons, tenero sacros Ducentium ortus ex animo ; quater Felix ! in imo qui scatentem Pectore te, pia Nympha, sensit. '' The next (and last) two Latin stanzas by Gray which I shall quote, are the two first of a set of Sapphics, addressed by him to GRAY. 303 Mr. West, at a time when each of these poets believed himself to be intended for the Bar. They betray an amusing horror of Westminster Hall : " Barbaras eedes aditure mecum Quas Eris semper fovet inquieta, Lis ubi late sonat et togatum yEstuat agmen. Dulcius quanto, patulis sub ulmi Hospitse rarais temere jacentcm Sic libris horas, tenuique inertes Fallere Musa ? " I fear that, in order to feel ftdly these lines, they must be read, as I now read them, on a beautiful May morning, and with the consciousness of being obliged to hurry down to Westminster. Horace Walpole and Gray did not complete their projected tour together. They quarrelled while in Italy, and Gray returned to England alone. I cannot understand why Johnson should have chosen to doubt Horace Walpole's account of this difference between them, the whole blame of which he throws upon himself. He says that Gray was " too serious a companion." " I had just broke loose/' says Walpole, " from the restraint of the university, with as much money as I could spend ; and I was willing to indulge myself. Gray was for antiquities, &c., whilst I was for perpetual balls and plays: the fault was mine." (Walpoliana, i. ex.) Gray turned his steps homewards, and arrived in England in September, 1741, just in time to be present at his father's death. Gray had intended, on leaving Cambridge, to devote himself to the study of the law. His travels had now, for two years and a half, diverted him from this object ; and after his father's death he appears soon to have given it up. He went, indeed, to reside at Cambridge for the professed purpose of taking the degree of Bachelor of Civil Law, but continued to reside there after taking the degree. Gray probably felt conscious that the profession which he had originally designed to follow, was one for which he was natu- rally unfit, and he certainly had at no time shown any zeal to commence it. One of his reasons for avowedly giving up all projects of a forensic career is creditable to his filial piety :HH OKAY. and kindness, though I do not suppose that the abandon- ment of professional prospects which he evidently disliked, was a very heavy sacrifice. Soon after his father's death, the family property was found to be so much less than what had been reckoned on, that Gray perceived, that the heavy expenses inci- dental on preparing for the bar and on the customary briefless first years of a barrister's attendance on circuit and at Westminster, would make serious inroads on the family fund, and trench upon the means of maintaining in comfort his mother and his aunt, to both of whom he was fondly attached. The expenses of living quietly at Cambridge were comparatively trifling, and Cambridge accordingly became Gray's principal abode : though throughout his mother's lifetime he paid her long visits. Fortunately for the lovers of Gray's poetry, his mother passed her latter years in the country, and generally lived not far from Eton. The incalculable advantages which the university and college libraries offer to a literary man, must have aided greatly in causing Gray to reside so much at Cambridge, for he neither liked the place nor the general tone of its society. One of his biographers (with whom I can but seldom concur) truly points out the feature in Gray's character, which must have made books, and not men, his tests of the value of any particular dwelling-place. Gray's life was " the life of a student giving himself up to learning, and more- over accounting it an end in itself, and its own exceeding great reward. For it is not so much that he kept aloof from the active pursuits of life for the purpose of authorship, as that he compara- tively sacrificed even this and the fame which belongs to it, by devoting his time almost entirely to reading. "Writing was with him the exception, and that too a rare one. His life was spent in the acquisition of knowledge ; and there is no doubt that he was a man of considerable learning. His acquaintance with the classics was profound and extensive. He had thought at one time of publishing an edition of Strabo ; and he left behind him many notes and geographical disquisitions, which, together with notes on Plato and Aristophanes, were edited by Mr. Mathias. He was besides a very skilful zoologist and botanist. His knowledge of architecture has been already mentioned. He was well versed moreover in heraldry, and was a diligent antiquarian." Knight's Cyclopaedia. Gray's dislike at this period of his life to Cambridge, in all GRAY. respects save as a city of libraries, is manifest from the following fragment of a Hymn to Ignorance, written by him soon after he became a resident there : " Hail, horrors, hail ! ye ever gloomy bowers, Ye gothic fanes, and antiquated towers ! Where rushy Camus' slowly-winding flood Perpetual draws his humid train of mud : Glad I revisit thy neglected reign : Oh, take me to thy peaceful shade again. But chiefly thee, whose influence breathed from high, Augments the native darkness of the sky ; Ah, Ignorance ! soft salutary power ! Prostrate with filial reverence I adore. Thrice hath Hyperion roll'd his annual race, Since weeping I forsook thy fond embrace. Oh, say, successful dost thou still oppose Thy leaden aegis 'gainst our ancient foes ? Still stretch, tenacious of thy right divine, The massy sceptre o'er thy slumbering line ? And dews Lethean thro' the land dispense, To steep in slumbers each benighted sense ? If any spark of wit's delusive ray Break out, and flash a momentary day, With damp cold touch forbid it to aspire, And huddle up in fogs the dangerous fire. Oh, say, She hears me not, but, careless grown, Lethargic nods upon her ebon throne. Goddess ! awake, arise : alas ! my fears ! Can powers immortal feel the force of years ? Not thus of old, with ensigns wide unfurl'd, She rode triumphant o'er the vanquish'd world : Fierce nations own'd her unresisted might ; And all was ignorance, and all was night : Oh sacred age ! Oh times for ever lost ! (The schoolman's glory, and the churchman's boast,) For ever gone yet still to fancy new, Her rapid wings the transient scene pursue, And bring the buried ages back to view." Many of his letters breathe the same sarcastic spirit in speaking of Cambridge studies and Cambridge men. He afterwards learned to think and speak more kindly and more wisely of his Alma Mater. The first of his celebrated odes, that to Spring, was written by him in 1742. He designed it for the perusal of his friend AVcst, before whom he was in the habit of laying all his compositions ; but West died (June 1st, 1742) before the poem reached him. Gray felt this blow acutely ; for his friendships, though few and not quickly formed, were exceedingly warm, and West had been 806 GRAY. his chosen companion and correspondent from boyhood. Johnson says of West, that lie " deserved his [Gray's] esteem by the powers which he shows in his Letters, and in the Ode ' to May/ which Mr. Mason has preserved, as well as by the sincerity with which, when Gray sent him part of ' Agrippina,' a tragedy that he had just begun, he gave an opinion which probably intercepted the progress of the work, and which the judgment of every reader will confirm. It was certainly no loss to the English stage that 1 Agrippina ' was never finished." Johnson might have added that Gray's readiness in deferring to his friend's opinion, and giving up his tragedy, was also no slight proof of Gray's good sense and candour. Johnson throughout his " Life of Gray " insinuates, without expressly charging, that Gray was a vain, peevish man. Certainly this immolation of " Agrip- pina " by her own parent, like Iphigenia, shows strongly that Gray was free from that morbid conceit, which is too often a charac- teristic of the " Genus irritabile vatum." In the autumn of this year, probably in the course of a visit to his mother, who lived at Stoke, near Windsor, Gray wrote his beautiful Etonian lay, the far-famed " Ode on a distant prospect of Eton College." It is delightful to watch the fondness with which Gray ever regarded the place of his education, and his gratitude for the benefits which he had received there. A living Etonian poet, an editor of Gray, has truly and beautifully expressed the enduring effect which Eton and Eton scenery produced upon Gray's mind. I cannot pay Mr. Moultrie a higher compliment than by placing his stanza on Eton and Gray in juxta-position with THE ODE. I ought perhaps to apologise to some of my readers for quoting lines so familiar to them as these of Gray ; but I could not let a volume written in honour of Eton pass forth to the world without embodying in it the noble and melodious homage paid to her by one of the most gifted of her sons. I must trust to my Etonian readers agreeing with me that THE ODE well rewards one perusal more. ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COU.KGK. Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, That crown the wat'ry glade, Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade ; GRAY. And ye, that from the stately brow Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoai'y Thames along His silver-winding way. Ah, happy hills, ah, pleasing shade, Ah, fields belov'd in vain, Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales, that from ye blow, A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wintr, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring. Say, father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace, Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm thy glassy wave 1 The captive linnet which enthral ' What idle progeny succeed To chase the rolling circle's speed Or urge the flying ball ? While some on earnest business bent Their murmuring labours ply 'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty ; Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry : Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy. Gay Hope is theirs, by Fancy fed, Less pleasing, when possest ; The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast : Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue ; Wild wit, invention ever new, And lively cheer of vigour born ; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light, That fly th' approach of morn. Alas ! regardless of their doom, The little victims play ; No sense have they of ills to come, Nor care beyond to-day. 307 x 2 308 in; AY. Yet see how all around them wait The ministers of human fate, And black Misfortune's baneful train, Ah, show them where in ambush stand, To seize their prey, the murderous band ! Ah, tell them, they are men ! These shall the fury passions tear, The vultures of the mind, Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear, And Shame that skulks behind ; Or pining Love shall waste their youth , Or Jealousy, with rankling tooth, That inly gnaws the secret heart ; And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visaged comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart. Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high, To bitter Scorn a sacrifice, And grinning Infamy. The stings of Falsehood those shall try, And hard Unkindness' alter'd eye, That mocks the tear it forc'd to flow ; And keen Remorse, with blood defil'd, And moody Madness laughing wild Amid severest woe. Lo ! in the vale of years beneath A grisly troop are seen, The painful family of Death, More hideous than their queen : This racks the joints, this fires the veins, That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage : Lo ! Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the soul with icy hand, And slow-consuming Age. To each his sufferings : all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan ; The tender for another's pain, The unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate * Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies. Thought would destroy their Paradise, No more ; where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise. Johnson, who criticises Gray in more than even his usual spirit of sullen sarcasm, condemns this ODE wholesale, and says of it, GRAY. 309 that " the ' Prospect of Eton College' suggests nothing to Gray which every beholder does not equally think and feel." It is strange that Johnson should not have perceived that in saying this he was in fact pronouncing the highest eulogium on the Ode : especially as in another part of his " Life of Gray" he has the good sense to adduce as a convincing proof of the excellence of some of the stanzas in " The Elegy," the fact that " he who reads them persuades himself that he has always felt them." Perhaps " every beholder " (or at least every Etonian beholder) may at the " Prospect of Eton College" " equally think and feel" what Gray did, but who before Gray ever expressed those thoughts and feelings? and who, since Gray, has not experienced them the more vividly and the more pleasingly, by reason of the beauty and truthfulness with which Gray has expressed them ? Before quoting Mr. Moultrie's lines on Gray and Eton, I will insert two anecdotes which are given in Mathias's edition of Gray's works, and which prove both how deeply Gray imbued his mind with the Classics at Eton, and also that his poetical genius was first awakened there. " Mr. Nicholls being once in company with the illustrious author of the ' Analysis of Ancient Mythology/ asked his opinion of Mr. Gray's scholarship when at Eton School. Mr. Bryant said in answer, ' Gray was an excellent scholar : I was next boy to him in the school, and at this minute I happen to recollect a line of one of his school exercises which, if you please, I will repeat, for the expressions are happy; it is on the subject of the freezing and thawing of words in the ' Spectator ' : " Pluvieeque loquaces Descendere jugis, et garrulus ingruit imber." " Mr. Nicholls once asked Mr. Gray, if he recollected when he first felt in himself the strong predilection to poetry, and he replied, ' I believe it was when I began at Eton to read Virgil for my own amusement, and not in school-hours as a task.' ' I will now give part of Mr. Moultrie's stanzas on the poet and the place. He thus addresses Eton, and alludes to Gray : " There is no feature of thy fair domain \Vliich of decay or change displays a trace, No charm of thine but doth undhnm'd remain, Thou, ray boyhou'1%. Most abiding-place, 310 (JIJAY. While five-and-twenty years with stealthy pace Have cool'd thy son's rash blood, and thinn'd his hah 1 ; The old expression lingers on thy face, The spirit of past days unquench'd is there, While all things else are changed, and changing everywhere. " And through thy spacious courts, and o'er thy green Irriguous meadows, swarming as of old, A youthful generation still is seen, Of birth, of mind, of humour manifold : The grave, the gay, the timid, and the bold, The noble nursling of the palace hall, The merchant's offspring, heir to wealth untold, The pale-eyed youth, whom learning's spells enthral, Within thy cloisters meet, and love thee, one and all. " Young art thou still, and young shalt ever be In spirit, as thou wast in years gone by ; The present, past, and future blend in thee, Rich as thou art in names which cannot die, And youthful hearts already beating high To emulate the glories won of yore ; That days to come may still the past outvie, And thy bright roll be lengthen'd more and more, Of statesman, bard, and sage, well- versed in noblest lore. " Such tribute paid thee once, in pensive strains, One mighty in the realm of lyric song, A ceaseless wanderer through the wide domains Of thought, which to the studious soul belong, One far withdrawn from this world's busy throng, And seeking still in academic bowers, A safe retreat from tumult, strife, and wrong ; Where, solacing with verse his lonely hours, He wove these fragrant wreaths of amaranthine flowers. " To him, from boyhood to life's latest hour, The passion, kindled first beside the shore Of thine own Thames, retained its early power ; 'T was his with restless footsteps to explore All depths of ancient, and of modern lore ; With unabated love to feed the eye Of silent thought on the exhaustless store Of beauty, which the gifted may descry In all the teeming land of fruitful phantasy. " To him the Grecian muse, devoutly woo'd, Unveil'd her beauty, and entranced his ear, In many a wrapt imaginative mood, With harmony which only poets hear Even in that old enchanted atmosphere : To him the painter's and the sculptor's art Disclosed those hidden glories, which appear To the clear vision of the initiate heart In contemplation calm, from worldly care apart. GRAY. " Nor lack'd he the profounder, purer sense Of beauty, in the face of Nature seen ; But loved the mountain's rude magnificence ; The valley's glittering brooks, and pastures green, Moonlight, and morn, and sunset's golden sheen, The stillness and the storm of lake and sea, The hedgerow elms, with grass-grown lanes between, The winding footpath, the broad, bowery tree, The deep, clear river's course, majestically free. " Such were his haunts in recreative hours, To such he fondly turn'd, from time to time, From Granta's cloister'd courts, and gloomy towers, And stagnant Camus' circumambient shrine ; Well pleas'd o'er Cambria's mountain-peaks to climb. Or, with a larger, more adventurous range, Plant his bold steps on Alpine heights sublime, And gaze on Nature's wonders vast and strange ; Then roam through the rich South with swift and ceaseless change. " Yet with his settled and habitual mood Accorded better the green English vale, The pastoral mead, the cool sequester'd wood, The spacious park fenc'd in with rustic pale, The pleasant interchange of hill and dale, The church-yard darken'd by the yew-tree's shade, And rich with many a rudely-sculptured tale, Of friends beneath its turf sepuchral laid, Of human tears that flow, of earthly hopes that fade. " Such were the daily scenes with which he fed The pensive spirit first awoke by Thee ; And blest and blameless was the life he led, Sooth'd by the gentle spells of poesy. Nor yet averse to stricter thought was he, Nor uninstructed in abstruser lore ; But now, with draughts of pure philosophy Quench'd his soul's thirst, now ventured to explore The fields by science own'd, and taste the fruits they bore. " With many a graceful fold of learned thought He wrapp'd himself around, well pleased to shroud His spirit, in the web itself had wrought, From the rude pressure of the boisterous crowd ; Nor loftier purpose cherish'd or avow'd, Nor claim'd the prophet's or the teacher's praise ; Content in studious ease to be allow'd With nice artistic craft to weave his lays, And lose himself at will in song's melodious maze. " Slow to create, fastidious to refine, He wrought and wrought witli labour long and sore, Adjusting word by word, and line by line, Each thought, each plirase remoulding o'er and o'er, 311 r :> I :l GRAY. Till art could polish and adorn no more, And stifled fancy sank beneath the load Of gorgeous words, and decorative lore, In rich profusion on each verse bestow'd, To grace the shrine wherein the poet's soul abode." The last stanza refers not to the ode on Eton, but to Gray's other odes. I do not quite concur in the criticisms which are expressed in it, and in the stanza which precedes it; but I was unwilling to mar by dissevering Mr. Moultrie's beautiful poetry. In the same year (1712) Gray wrote the " Hymn to Adversity." The " Elegy in a Country Churchyard" was also commenced at this period, but not finished until several years afterwards. He had been reconciled to Horace Walpole after their return to England ; and Walpole, who valued Gray's poetry very highly, being desirous of preserving what he had already written, as well as of perpetuating the merit of their deceased friend West, endea- voured to prevail with Gray to publish his own poems, together with those of West; but Gray declined it, conceiving their pro- ductions united, would not suffice to fill even a small volume. In 1747, Gray became acquainted with Mr. Mason, then a scholar of St. John's College, and afterwards Fellow of Pembroke Hall. Mr. Mason, who was a man of great learning and con- siderable taste for poetry, had written the year before, his "Monody on the death of Pope," and his "II Bellicose," and "II Pacifico;" and Gray revised these pieces at the request of a friend. This laid the foundation of a friendship that terminated but with life : and Mr. Mason, after the death of Gray, collected his friend's works, and superintended their publication. In 1747, Gray commenced a poem on " Government and Educa- tion :" but he only completed a small portion of his intended work. The lines which we possess are justly admired ; and the following description has always been a standard quotation whenever the overthrow of the Roman empire has been referred to. It is now coming into favour as an effective passage respecting the invasions past, present, and future, which Western Europe has experienced, is experiencing, and is likely to experience, from Russia : " Oft o'er the" trembling nations from afar Has Scythia brcath'd the living cloud of war ; ' And where thc 4 deluge burst with sweepy sway, Their arms, their kings, their gods, were rolled away, GHAY. 313 As oft have issu'd, host impelling host, The blue-ey'd myriads from the Baltic coast ; The prostrate South to the destroyer yields Her boasted titles, and her golden fields : With grim delight the brood of Winter view A brighter day, and heav'ns of azure hue, Scent the new fragrance of the breathing rose, And quaff the pendent vintage as it grows." In 1750 the "Elegy" was completed. Gray showed this to Horace Walpole ; and as several friends obtained copies of the manuscript, the poem soon found its way into a magazine. Gray being annoyed at this, wrote to Walpole, and requested him to place the " Elegy" immediately in Dodsley's hands for publica- tion. This was done ; and the instantaneous popularity of the poem gained for Gray a reputation like that which " Childe Harold" afterwards conferred on Byron, and of which he said, "I awoke one morning and found myself famous." The "Elegy" ran immediately through eleven editions, and was translated into other languages. Even Johnson, on the subject of this poem, relaxes from his Rhadamanthine austerity. He says : " In the character of his ' Elegy* I rejoice to concur with the common reader; for by the common sense of readers uncorrupted with literary prejudices, after all the refinements of subtilty and the dogmatism of learning, must be finally decided all claim to poetical honours. The 'Churchyard' abounds with images which find a mirror in every mind, and with sentiments to which every bosom returns an echo. The four stanzas beginning ' Yet e'en these bones/* are to me original: I have never seen the "' " Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind ! On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature crirs, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires." ;n i GRAY. notions in any other place ; yet he that reads them here persuades himself that he has always felt them. Had Gray written often thus, it had been vain to blame, and useless to praise him." Heartily concurring in this last sentence, I shall add neither quotation nor comment ; save observing that even in this poem so eminently and so truthfully descriptive of simple English scenery, and of the homeliest yet holiest feelings of the heart, Gray's stores of reading both in ancient and modern literature are liberally em- ployed to add dignity and beauty to his stanzas. It has frequently been pointed out that the idea of the first line " The curfew tolls the knell of parting day." is taken from Dante " Era gia 1' ora die volge '1 disio A 'naviganti, e' ntenerisce il cuore : Lo di ch' han detto a' dolci amici addio, E che lo nuovo peregrin d' amore Puuge, se ode Squilla di lontano Che paja, il yiomo pianyer die si Another passage in "The Elegy," (and that a favourite one with most readers,) is taken from Lucretius " For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share." At the commencement of the most beautiful but most melan- choly argument on the folly of considering Death an Evil, with which Lucretius ends the third book of his poem, are these lines which the imaginary adversary of the Poet is supposed to use in order to prove how bitter Death is : " Nam jam nee domus accipiet te laeta, nee uxor Optima, non dulces occurrent oscula nati Prceripere, et tacitapectux dulcedine tangent." Gray has missed the image which is given in the first syllable of the word Praripere. Some stanzas have been preserved to us, which Gray had in- tended for portions of " The Elegy," but which he ultimately omitted. One of these is of exquisite beauty, and I wonder with Byron (who quotes and admires it) how Gray could have had the heart to reject it : GRAY. 315 " There scattered oft, the earliest of the year, By hands unseen are showers of violets found ; The redbreast loves to build and warble there, And little footsteps lightly print the ground." Another is " Hark, how the sacred calm that breathes around, Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease ; In still small accents whispering from the ground A grateful earnest of eternal peace." Another of these rejected stanzas was an expansion of a couplet which Gray once extemporised. I quote the couplet as being most beautiful, and because the anecdote connected with it is worth recording : " One fine morning in the spring, Mr. Nicholls was walking in the neighbourhood of Cambridge with Mr. Gray, who feeling the influence of the season, and cheered with the melody of the birds on every bough, turned round to his friend and expressed himself extempore in these beautiful lines " Tliere pipes the wood-lark, and the song-thrush there Scatters his loose notes in ilie waste of air." From 1753 to 1756 Gray, as Horace Walpole expresses it, "was in flower." The " Ode on the Progress of Poetry," and " The Bard," were then written. Johnson has poured forth his blackest vials of wrath on these celebrated productions of Gray's pen, and even more favourable critics have been displeased with their accu- mulation of gaudy and cumbrous ornaments. On this point, namely, how far Gray errs by adorning the diction of his lyrics, I will cite the authority of a modern critic, whose accuracy of taste will hardly be disputed: I mean Sir James Mackintosh. After describing Goldsmith, he says of Gray " Gray was a poet of a far higher order, and of an almost oppo- site kind of merit. Of all English poets he was the most finished artist. He attained the highest degree of splendour of which poetical style seems to be capable. If Virgil and his scholar Racine may be allowed to have united somewhat more ease with their elegance, no other poet approaches Gray in this kind of excellence. The degree of poetical invention diffused over such a style, the balance of taste and of fancy necessary to produce it, and the art with which an offensive boldness of imagery is polished away, are not indeed always perceptible to the common reader, nor do they convey to any mind the same species of gratification which is felt 316 GRAY. from the perusal of those poems which seem to be the unpremedi- tated effusions of enthusiasm ; but to the eye of the critic, and more especially to the artist they afford a new kind of pleasure, not incompatible with a distinct perception of the art employed, and somewhat similar to the grand emotions excited by the reflec- tion on the skill and toil exerted in the construction of a magnifi- cent palace. They can only be classed among the secondary pleasures of poetry, but they never can exist without a great degree of its higher excellencies. Almost all his poetry was lyrical that species which, issuing from a mind in the highest state of excitement, requires an intensity of feeling which for a long composition the genius of no poet could support. Those who complain of its brevity and rapidity only confess their own inability to follow the movements of poetical inspiration. Of the two grand attributes of the Ode, Dryden had displayed the enthu- siasm, Gray exhibited the magnificence." Certainly, Gray's Odes (with the exception of the Etonian Ode,) never obtained such popularity as was acquired by " The Elegy ;" but many passages of them have passed into the universal cur- rency of favourite quotations, and are cited and appreciated by all. Take, for instance, the allusion in " The Bard," to the early part of Richard the Second's reign. " Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the Zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes ; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm ; Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey." And the following true and beautiful stanza from his unfinished poem, " On the Pleasures arising from Vicissitude." " See the wretch that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again. The meanest flow'ret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, x The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are op'ning Paradise." In 1756 Gray having experienced some incivilities at Peter House, removed, or (in the technical phrase) migrated, to Pem- broke Hall. On the death of Cibber, in 1757, he had the GRAY. 317 honour of refusing the Laureateship which was offered him by the Duke of Devonshire. He applied himself now for some time to the study of architecture ; and from him Mr. Bentham derived much valuable assistance in his well-known " History of Ely." He at this time left Cambridge for London, and took lodgings near the British Museum ; where he passed the greater part of three years of intense study. At the end of that time he returned to Cambridge. In 1765 he visited Scotland, and was there received with many signs of honour. The University of Aberdeen proposed to confer on him the degree of Doctor of Laws ; but he declined the honour, thinking that it might appear a slight and contempt of his own university, where he says "he passed so many easy and happy hours of his life, where he had once lived from choice, and con- tinued to do so from obligation." In 1768 the professorship of modern history at Cambridge became vacant, and Gray, who on the occasion of the preceding vacancy had applied unsuccessfully, was now appointed by the Duke of Grafton. In the succeeding year the Duke of Grafton was elected Chancellor of the University, and Gray wrote the installation ode. The extreme difficulty of the subject must be remembered in criticising this production. It is hardly possible to deal in pane- gyric to living statesmen without incurring at least the semblance of adulation : and it is very hard to recount the genealogical honours of existing personages and institutions without drawling into pedantic dulness. Gray has avoided both these faults in his justly celebrated stanzas. He has with admirable skill glanced at the brightest points in the character of each founder of Cambridge, and has made them pass before our eyes, as Hallam well expresses it, like " shadows over a magic glass : "" " But hark ! the portals sound, and pacing forth With solemn steps and slow, ilir;h potentates and dames of royal birth, And mitred fathers in long order go : Great Edward, with the lilies on his brow, From haughty Gallia torn, And sad Chatillon, on her bridal morn That wept her bleeding love, and princely Clare, And Anjou's heroine, and the paler rose, The rival of her crown and of her woes, And either Henry there, 6 Hallam's Constitutional History, vol. i. p. 47. 318 OKAY. The murderM saint, and the majestic lord, That broke the bonds of Rome. (Their tears, their little triumphs o'er, Their human passions now no more, Save Charity, that glows beyond the tomb,) All that on Granta's fruitful plain Rich streams of regal bounty pour'd, And bade these awful fanes and turrets rise." The concluding stanza also of this Ode is deservedly a general favourite " Through the wild waves as they roar, With watchful eye and dauntless mien Thy steady course of honour keep, Nor fear the rocks, nor seek the shore : The star of Brunswick smiles serene, And gilds the horrors of the deep." In 1769 he visited the counties of Westmoreland and Cumber- land. " The Lakes " had not then become a regular district for tourists ; and very few Englishmen, even among those who could declaim about Switzerland, were aware of the beautiful scenery of this part of our island. Indeed, susceptibility to the beauties of nature was not the characteristic of the literary men of the time ; most of whom, like Johnson, thought a walk down Fleet Street the most delightful and the most picturesque in its objects of all the tours that could be made. Gray has the merit of fully appreciating the romantic and inspiring views of the region which Wordsworth has since made classic ground. Gray's letters to Dr. Wharton, descriptive of his journey, are the most expressive and the most accurate accounts of those now celebrated scenes, which we possess. In the spring of 1770, Gray was attacked by a violent illness which overtook him, as he was projecting a tour in Wales ; but recovering, he was able to effect the tour in the autumn. His respite, however, was but a short one; and having suffered for some months previous from a violent cough and great depression of spirits, he was induced to leave Cambridge for London in order to obtain medical advice in May 1771. He was now sinking under the repeated and violent attacks of an hereditary gout, to which he had long been subject, notwithstanding he had observed the most rigid abstemiousness throughout the whole course of his life. By the advice of his physicians, he removed from London to Kensington ; the air of which place proved so salutary, that he was soon enabled to return to Cambridge, whence he designed to GRAY. 319 make a visit to his friend Dr. Wharton, at Old Park, near Durham, in the hope that the excursion would tend to the re-establishment of his health ; but on the 24th of July he was seized while at dinner in the College-hall, with a sudden nausea, which obliged him to retire to his chamber. The gout had fixed on his stomach in such a degree, as to resist all the powers of medicine. On the 29th he was attacked with a strong convulsion, which returned with increased violence the ensuing day ; and on the evening of the 31st of May, 1771, he departed this life in the fifty-fifth year of his age. He was buried by the side of his mother in Stoke churchyard. There are several of Gray's poetical compositions to which I have not adverted in the preceding biographical sketch. His powers of humour are proved, not so much by " the Long Story " as by the two admirable political pasquinades, which are very puritanically excluded from the common collections of his poems. That on Lord Sandwich and the Cambridge University election which begins " When sly Jeremy Twitcher;" is the very raciest and tartest piece of the kind in our language. Gray's translations from the Norse and Welch are universally popular. The " Descent of Odin" is generally one of the first pieces of English poetry which a clever child voluntarily learns by heart, nor is it less a favourite with grown up critics. It is worth while to compare a portion of it with the original Norse. \Ve see thus what Gray's taste led him to adopt, and what to modify. It also shows his skill and genius in adding, when desirable, to the archaic simplicity of the original. The poem begins in the original with a stanza about the Gods having unplea- sant dreams about Balder. This was wisely left out by Gray, and he at once sets Odin on horseback on a somewhat proverbial journey. I give a strictly literal translation parallel with the Norse, and subjoin Gray's paraphrase 1 : Upp reis Odinn A Ida gantr, Ok hann & Sleipni Sothul uinm lagthi. Keith hann nither pathan Niftheljar til ; Mrtti hail livcl])i Tlieim or or llelju koin. Up rose Odin ( >t men King. Eke he on Sleipner Saddle laid. Rode he nethcrward thence Nislu'l to ; He met the Whelp That out of Hell came. GRAY. Sa var blodrigr Um brjost framan : Ok galdrs fb'thur G(51 um lengi. Framm reith Odinii Foldvegr dundi ; I hum kom at hdfnu Heljar rauni. He was bloody On breast in forwards : And the spell's father Yelled at from long off. Forward rode Odin, The field-way thundered, He came to the high Hell's house. " Uprose the King of Men with speed, And saddled straight his coal-black steed ; Down the yawning steep he rode, That leads to Hela's drear abode. Him the Dog of Darkness spied, His shaggy throat he open'd wide, While from his jaws, with carnage fill'd, Foam and human gore distill'd ; Hoarse he bays with hideous din, Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin ; And long pursues, with fruitless yell, The father of the powerful spell. Onward still his way he takes, (The groaning Earth beneath him shakes,) Till full before his fearless eyes The portals nine of Hell arise." I think that Gray has not in every instance preserved the force of the original. " The Dog of Darkness " is hardly equal to " The Whelp that came out of Hell/' and the couplet " Onward still his way he takes, (The groaning Earth beneath him shakes,)" dilutes rather than represents " Forward rode Odin, The field-way thundered." A little farther on in the poem, Gray has very much improved the old Norse Bard. I mean the highly poetical lines which he places in the mouth of the Prophetess : " Long on these mouldering bones have beat The winter's snow, the summer's heat, The drenching dews, and driving rain ! Let me, let me sleep again." In the original she only says " I was with snow snowed on, And with rain stricken, And with dew bedewed ; Dead was I long." I have already quoted a passage from one of Gray's biographers GRAY. 321 in which the variety and accuracy of his learning are justly com- mended. His intimate friend, Mason, in a letter written soon after Gray's death, thus described him : " Perhaps he was the most learned man in Europe. He was equally acquainted with the eloquent and profound parts of science, and that not superficially but thoroughly. He knew every branch of history, both natural and civil; had read all the original histories of England, France, and Italy ; and was a great anti- quarian. Criticism, metaphysics, morals, politics, made a principal part of his study ; voyages and travels of all sorts were his favourite amusements, and he had a fine taste in painting, prints, architec- ture, and gardening. With such a fund of knowledge, his con- versation must have been equally instructing and entertaining ; but he was also a good man, a man of virtue and humanity. There is no character without some speck, some imperfection, and I think the greatest defect in his was an affectation in delicacy, or rather effeminacy, and a visible fastidiousness, or contempt and disdain of his inferiors in science. He also had, in some degree, that weakness which so much disgusted Voltaire in Mr. Congreve : though he seemed to value others chiefly according to the progress they made in knowledge, yet he could not bear to be considered merely as a man of letters ; and though without birth, or fortune, or station, his desire was to be looked upon as a private inde- pendent gentleman, who read for his amusement. Perhaps it may be said, what signified so much knowledge, when it produced so little ? Is it worth taking so much pains to leave no memorial but a few poems ? But let it be considered that Mr. Gray was to others at least innocently employed; to himself, certainly bene- ficially. His time passed agreeably; he was every day making some new acquisition in science ; his mind was enlarged, his heart softened, his virtue strengthened ; the world and mankind were shown to him without a mask ; and he was taught to con- sider everything as trifling, and unworthy of the attention of a wise man, except the pursuit of knowledge and practice of virtue, in that state wherein God hath placed us." Mathias's edition of Gray should be consulted in order to see how far Gray was in advance of his age, and how many subjects which now are eagerly cultivated as vehicles of notoriety, Gray earnestly studied a century ago; because he, while the mass neglected them, was capable of discerning their intrinsic import- 322 GBAY. ance; because to him the worship of Truth was not mere lip- worship; but he could act as well as talk in the spirit of the great maxim, " Imprimis Hominis est veri investigatio ; " and because, to him (as already expressed), " Knowledge was its own exceeding great reward." In Mathias's second volume are collected Gray's " Observations on English Metre, or the Pseudo-Rhythmus, or Rhyme, on the Poems of Lydgate ; " his " Critical and Explanatory Notes on Aristophanes;" his valuable " Memoirs on the Geography of Ancient India, Parthia, and Bactriana ; " his " Analysis of the Works of Plato ;" and his " Notes on Linnaeus' s System of Nature." This volume alone might be referred to as sufficient fruit of a long and learned life. Gray's prose compositions are so little known, that I shall, in conclusion, cite one of them, which shows his piety as well as his learning ; and which was an important service rendered by him to the cause of the highest and holiest of truths. Lord Bolingbroke's anti-Christian writings were published in Gray's lifetime. In them Lord Bolingbroke has called in question the moral attributes of the Deity, and maintained this position, "That we have no adequate ideas of his goodness and his justice, as we have of his natural ones, his wisdom and his power." This is the main pillar of Bolingbroke's philosophical system, and this Gray overthrew in the following masterly argument : " I will allow Lord Bolingbroke, that the moral as well as the physical attributes of God must be known to us only a posteriori, and that this is the only real knowledge we can have either of the one or the other ; I will allow, too, that perhaps it may be an idle distinction which we make between them, his moral attributes being as much in his nature and essence as those we call his phy- sical; but the occasion of our making some distinction is plainly this ; his eternity, infinity, omniscience, and almighty power are not what connect him, if I may so speak, with us his creatures. We adore him, not because he always did in every place, and always will, exist ; but because he gave and still preserves to us our own existence by an exertion of his goodness. We adore him, not because he knows and can do all things, but because he made us capable of knowing and of doing what may conduct us to happiness ; it is, therefore, his benevolence which we adore not GRAY. his greatness or power ; and if we are made only to bear our part in a system, without any regard to our own particular happiness, we can no longer worship him as our all-bounteous parent ; there is no meaning in the term. The idea of his malevolence (an impiety I tremble to write) must succeed. We have nothing left but our fears, and those, too, vain ; for whither can they lead but to despair, and the sad desire of annihilation ? If, then, justice and goodness be not the same in God as in our ideas, we mean nothing when we say that God is necessarily just and good ; and, for the same reason, it may as well be said that we know not what we mean, when, according to Dr. Clarke (Evid. 26th), we affirm that he is necessarily a wise and intelligent being. What then can Lord Bolingbroke mean, when he says that everything shows the wisdom of God ; and yet adds, everything does not show in like manner the goodness of God conformably to our ideas of this attribute in either ? By wisdom, he must only mean, that God knows and employs the fittest means to a certain end, no matter what that end may be : this, indeed, is a proof of knowledge and intelligence, but these alone do not constitute wisdom ; the word implies the application of these fittest means to the best and kindest ends or who will call it true wisdom ? even amongst ourselves it is not held as such. All the attributes, then, that he seems to think apparent in the constitution of things, are his unity, infinity, eternity, and intelligence, from no one of which, I boldly affirm, can result any duty of gratitude or adoration incumbent on mankind, more than if he, and all things round him, were produced, as some have dared to think, by the necessary working of eternal matter in an infinite vacuum : for what does it avail to add intelligence to those other physical attributes, unless that intelligence be directed, not only to the good of the whole, but also to the good of every individual, of which the whole is composed. " It is therefore no impiety, but the direct contrary, to say that human justice and the other virtues, which are indeed only various applications of human benevolence, bear some resemblance to the moral attributes of the Supreme Being : it is only by means of that resemblance we conceive them in him, or their effects in his works : it is by the same means only that we comprehend those physical attributes which his Lordship allows to be demonstrable. How can we form any notion of his unity, but from that unity of 324 GRAY. which we ourselves are conscious ? how of his existence, but from our own consciousness of existing ? how of his power, but of that power which we experience in ourselves ? Yet neither Lord Boling- broke nor any other man, that thought on these subjects, ever believed that these our ideas were real and full representations of these attributes in Divinity. They say he knows; they do not mean that he compares ideas which he has acquired from sensation, and draws conclusions from them. They say he acts : they do not mean by impulse, nor as the soul acts on an organised body. They say he is omnipotent and eternal : yet on what are their ideas founded, but on our own narrow conceptions of space and dura- tion, prolonged beyond the bounds of space and time ? Either, therefore, there is a resemblance and analogy (however imperfect and distant) between the attributes of the Divinity and our con- ceptions of them,- or we cannot have any conceptions of them at all : he allows we ought to reason from earth, that we do know, to heaven, which we do not know : how can we do so but by that affinity which appears between one and the other ? " In vain, then, does my Lord attempt to ridicule the warm but melancholy imagination of Mr. Wollaston in that fine soliloquy : ' Must I then bid my last farewell to these walks when I close these lids, and yonder blue regions and all this scene darken upon me and go out ? Must I then only furnish dust to be mingled with the ashes of these herds and plants, or with this dirt under my feet ? Have I been set so far above them in life, only to be levelled with them in death?' No thinking head, no heart, that has the least sensibility, but must have made the same reflection ; or at least must feel not the beauty alone, but the truth of it, when he hears it from the mouth of another. Now, what reply will Lord Bolingbroke make to these questions which are put to him, not only by Wollaston, but by all mankind ? He will tell you that we, that is, the animals, vegetables, stones, and other clods of earth, are all connected in one immense design ; that we are all dramatis persona? in different characters, and that we were not made for ourselves, but for the action; that it is foolish, presumptuous, impious, and profane to murmur against the Almighty author of this drama, when we feel ourselves unavoidably unhappy. On the contrary, we ought to rest our head on the soft pillow of resigna- tion, on the immoveable rock of tranquillity ; secure, that if our pains and afflictions grow violent indeed, an immediate end will be BROOME AND WEST. 825 put to our miserable being, and we shall be mingled with the dirt under our feet, a thing common to all the animal kind ; and of which he who complains does not seem to have been set by his reason so far above them in life, as to deserve not to be mingled with them in death. Such is the consolation his philosophy gives us, and such is the hope on which his tranquillity was founded." 7 (Memoir in Mathias's Edition. Life by Mitford. Johnson's Lives of the Poets.} BROOME AND WEST. THERE are two Etonians of the first half of this century, whom Johnson has ranked among the English poets : and, in deference to so high an authority, I have abridged and inserted his memoirs of their Lives. But I have searched in vain for any favourable specimen of their poetry which I might transfer to these pages. These two are BROOME and WEST : not Gray's friend, Richard West, but Gilbert West, a friend of Lord Lyttelton. Johnson says of the first, " William Broome was born in Cheshire, as is said, of very mean parents. Of the place of his birth, or the first part of his life, I have not been able to gain any intel- ligence. He was educated upon the foundation at Eton, and was Captain of the school a whole year, without any vacancy by which he might obtain a scholarship at King's College. Being by this delay, such as is said to have happened very rarely, superannuated, he was sent to St. John's College by the contributions of his friends, where he obtained a small exhibition/' Johnson must be inaccurate as to Broome being Captain of a year in which no vacancy at King's occurred. No year wholly blank of resignations is recorded in the Registrum Regale from 1653 to 1756. Broome must have been at Eton soon after 1700. I suppose the fact to have been, that Broome's seniors in his year went off to King's soon after Election, and that Broome remained Captain till the next election, without another resignation coming. Johnson proceeds to speak of Broome's career at Cambridge, and says, " He was introduced to Mr. Pope, who was then visiting Sir John Cotton at Madingley, near Cambridge, and gained so much by his esteem, that he was employed, I believe, to make " Mathias's Works of Gray, vol. i. pp. 370-374. 326 BROOMB AND W1>T. extracts from Eustathius for the notes to the translation of the ' Iliad / and in the volumes of poetry published by Lintot, com- monly called ' Pope's Miscellanies/ many of his early pieces were inserted. Pope and Broome were to be more closely connected. When the success of the ( Iliad ' gave encouragement to a version of the ' Odyssey/ Pope, weary of the toil, called Fenton and Broome to his assistance, and, taking only half the work upon himself, divided the other half between his partners, giving four books to Fenton and eight to Broome. Fenton's books I have enumerated in his life ; to the lot of Broome fell the second, sixth, eighth, eleventh, twelfth, sixteenth, eighteenth, and twenty -third, together with the burden of writing all the notes. " As this translation is a very important event in poetical his- tory, the reader has a right to know upon what grounds I establish my narration. That the version was not wholly Pope's was always known ; he had mentioned the assistance of two friends in his proposals, and at the end of the work some account is given by Broome of their different parts, which, however, mentions only five books as written by the coadjutors ; the fourth and twentieth by Fenton ; the sixth, the eleventh, and eighteenth by himself; though Pope, in an advertisement prefixed afterwards to a new volume of his works, claimed only twelve. A natural curiosity, after the real conduct of so great an undertaking, incited me once to inquire of Dr. Warburton, who told me, in his warm language, that he thought the relation given in the note a ' lie / but that he was not able to ascertain the several shares. The intelligence which Dr. Warburton could not afford me I obtained from Mr. Langton, to whom Mr. Spence had imparted it. " Broome probably considered himself as injured, and there was for some time more than coldness between him and his employer. He always spoke of Pope as too much a lover of money, and Pope pursued him with avowed hostility ; for he not only named him disrespectfully in the ' Dunciad/ but quoted him more than once in the ' Bathos/ as a proficient in the ' Art of Sinking / and in his enumeration of the different kinds of poets distinguished for the profound, he reckons Broome among ' the parrots who repeat another's words in such a hoarse odd tone as makes them seem their own/ I have been told that they were afterwards recon- ciled ; but I am afraid their peace was without friendship. BROOME AXD WEST. 327 " He never rose to very high dignity in the Church. He was sometime rector of Sturton in Suffolk, where he married a rich widow, and afterwards, when the King visited Cambridge (1728), became Doctor of Laws. He was (1733) presented by the Crown to the rectory of Pulham in Norfolk, which he held with Oakley Magna in Suffolk, given him by the Lord Cornwallis, to whom he was chaplain, and who added the vicarage of Eye in Suffolk ; he then resigned Pulham, and retained the two other. ******* " Of Broome, though it cannot be said that he was a great poet, it would be unjust to deny that he was an excellent versifier ; his lines are smooth and sonorous, and his diction is select and elegant. His rhymes are sometimes unsuitable ; in his ' Melancholy/ he makes breath rhyme to birth in one place, and to earth in another. Those faults occur but seldom ; and he had such power of words and numbers as fitted him for translation ; but, in his original works, recollection seems to have been his business more than invention. His imitations are so apparent, that it is part of his reader's employment to recal the verses of some former poet. To detect his imitations were tedious and useless. What he takes he seldom makes worse; whom Pope chose for an associate, and whose co-operation was considered by Pope's enemies as so im- portant, that he was attacked by Henly with this ludicrous distich : ' Pope came off clean with Homer ; but they say Broome went before, and kindly swept the way.' '" I next subjoin an epitome of Johnson's account of Gilbert West. It is curious to see Johnson so complaisant to these rather dingy cygnets after his treatment of such a swan as G ray : " West was the son of the Reverend Dr. West, perhaps him who published ' Pindar ' at Oxford, about the beginning of this century. His mother was sister to Sir Richard Temple, afterwards Lord Cobham. His father, purposing to educate him for the Church, sent him first to Eton, and afterwards to Oxford ; but he was seduced to a more airy mode of life, by a commission in a troop of horse procured him by his uncle. He continued some- time in the army, though it is reasonable to suppose he never sunk into a mere soldier, nor ever lost the love or much neglected the pursuit of learning; and afterwards, finding himself more inclined to civil employment, he laid down his commission, and 328 miOOAlE AND WEST. engaged in business under the Lord Townshend, then Secretary of State, with whom he attended the King to Hanover. Soon after- wards he married, and settled himself in a very pleasant house at Wickham in Kent, where he devoted himself to learning and to piety. Of his piety the influence has, I hope, been extended far by his ' Observations on the Resurrection/ published in 1747, for which the University of Oxford created him a Doctor of Laws by diploma (March 30, 1748), and would doubtless have reached yet further, had he lived to complete what he had for some time meditated, the Evidences of the Truth of the New Testament. Perhaps it may not be without effect to tell, that he read the prayers of the public liturgy every morning to his family, and that on Sunday evening he called his servants into the parlour, and read to them first a sermon, and then prayers. Crashaw is now not the only maker of verses to whom may be given the two venerable names of Poet and Saint. He was very often visited by Lyttelton and Pitt, who, when they were weary of faction and debates, used at Wick- ham to find books and quiet, a decent table, and literary conversa- tion. There is at Wickham a walk made by Pitt ; and, what is of far more importance, at Wickham Lyttelton received that convic- tion which produced his ' Dissertation on St. Paul/ These two illustrious friends had for a while listened to the blandishments of infidelity ; and when West's book was published, it was bought by some who did not know his change of opinion, in expectation of new objections against Christianity ; and as infidels do not want malignity they revenged the disappointment by calling him a Methodist. * * * * " Mr. West's income was not large ; and his friends endeavoured, but without success, to obtain an augmentation. It is reported that the education of the young prince was offered to him, but he required a more extensive power of superintendence than it was thought proper to allow him. In time, however, his revenue was improved ; he lived to have one of the lucrative clerkships of the Privy Council (1752), and Mr. Pitt at last had it in his power to make him Treasurer of Chelsea Hospital. " He was now sufficiently rich, but wealth came too late to be long enjoyed ; nor could it secure him from the calamities of life ; he lost (1755) his only son; and the year after (March 26) a stroke of the palsy brought to the grave one of the few poets to whom the grave might be without its terrors." DR. ARNE. 329 DR. ARNE. As Music is by common reputation the lawful wife of Poetry, 1 shall place next to these Etonian poets an Etonian musician, Dr. Arne. I must, however, own my utter inability to discuss the merits of the combiners of sweet sounds, and the following sketch is epitomised from the account of this eminent composer in the Biographical Dictionary of the Useful Knowledge Society: " Thomas Augustine Arne was the son of an upholsterer in King Street, Covent Garden, London. His father, designing him for the legal profession, sent him to school at Eton, where his musical propensities first disclosed themselves. The study of the law was afterwards reluctantly, and therefore unsuccessfully, pur- sued ; every hour that could be stolen from the desk, and many from sleep, were devoted to musical study and practice. He secreted a spinnet in his bed-room, and there acquired his first knowledge of a keyed instrument, which fear of his father's displeasure obliged him to practise with muffled strings. He continued to take lessons of Testing on the violin; and his father, accidentally calling at the house of a friend, caught young Arne in the fact of leading a party of amateur performers. Anger and remonstrance were alike vain, and he was at length allowed to follow the path which inclination so clearly pointed out. His sister possessed a similar degree of musical enthusiasm, and, gifted with a remarkably sweet voice, she willingly derived from him sufficient instruction to qualify her for a public singer. The English lyric drama at this period had reached its lowest point of declination. It was under circumstances unpropitious, and with means slender, that young Arne attempted to revive the long-dormant taste of his countrymen for their national music. His first attempt was to reset Addison's ' Rosa- mond/ which was brought out in 1733 at the theatre in Lincoln's- Inn-Fields. " The first opera which raised Arne to general popularity was ' Comus.' The bold attempt to adapt Milton's exquisite Masque to the stage was made by Dr. Dalton, who produced it at Drury Lane in 1738. Arne had little to do with the text of Milton, for the songs on which he was employed are chiefly additions by the 330 DR. MINE. adapter, and are, almost exclusively, sung by Comus and his ' crew/ For this task he was well fitted. To the shout of mid- night revelry and to the invitation of pleasure he could give appro- priate musical expression, but to sublimity he could make no approach. His mind had no sympathy with that of Milton : he was fitted and he was content to walk in a lower region ; and if music had been required for the more elevated portions of ' Comus/ Arne was not the man to have supplied it. " ' Comus ' continued to be played for several successive months ; and Arne's pleasing melodies were sung and admired throughout the kingdom. They were of the genuine English school, of which Lawes may be said to have been the founder, and which was adopted and perpetuated by Eccles, Weldon, and occasionally by Purcell. ' The production of " Comus," ' Buriiey rightly observes, ' forms an era in English music : its songs were so easy, natural, and agreeable, that they had an effect upon our national taste; and, till a more Italianised style was introduced in succeeding pasticcio operas, were the standard of perfection at our theatres and public gardens/ "Another field of exertion was presented to him. Mr. Jonathan Tyers, who had a few years before opened the Vauxhall Gardens as a place of summer amusement, engaged Ariie as his composer, and Mrs. Arne, Lowe, and Reinhold as his principal singers. During this connexion Arne published a yearly collection of his songs, under the title of ' Lyric Harmony/ the first volume of which contains several airs whose popularity is not yet ended ; among them Ariel's song in 'The Tempest/ In the year 1740 he also published the music to the songs in ' As You Like It ' and ' Twelfth Night/ In the same year he was employed as a dramatic composer, although not for the public stage. Thomson and Mallet had been commanded by Frederick, Prince of Wales, to produce an entertainment in celebration of the birth of his daughter Augusta ; and the result was ' The Masque of Alfred/ which was performed for the first time on the 1st of August, 1740, in the Gardens of Cliefden. The music was throughout composed by Arne. It was afterwards, in an altered form, produced at Drury Lane. The opera in this form favourably exhibits its author's talents : it is full of beautiful melody, and contains a more diver- sified employment of music than the contemporary Italian operas were accustomed to furnish. In 1759 he took his degree of Doctor DR. ARNE. 331 of Music at Oxford. In 1761, on the death of Rich, Beard suc- ceeded to the management of Covent Garden Theatre ; and a musician of eminence had now, for the first time, a chance of judicious and effective support; for, as Dibdin justly remarks 1 Music was never encouraged on the stage but when Beard was manager. Garrick and Lacey, if they had possessed the inclina- tion, wanted the necessary knowledge, which Beard eminently pos- sessed/ During this period Arne successively produced ' Thomas aud Sally/ ' Artaxerxes/ ' Love in a Village/ and the ' Guardian Outwitted/ at Coveut Garden. " Comparing the songs in ' Artaxerxes/ which were avowedly written on the Italian model, they will in no respect be found inferior ; while those in which the composer's own style was pre- served have still the freshness and charm which must always attach to graceful melody. "In 1772 Mason's ' Elfrida ' was acted at Covent Garden, and in 1776 his ' Caractacus ; ' and to each drama Arne furnished the music. ' Caractacus ' was Arne's last dramatic production : for nearly half a century he had, at uncertain and sometimes distant intervals, contributed to enrich the lyric drama of his country ; and the same style is distinctly visible from first to last, except where he chose to appear as the avowed imitator of the contem- porary Italian school. He died on the 5th of March, 1778, retain- ing his faculties to the last. " It must not be forgotten that to Dr. Arne we owe the two most popular songs in our language, ' God save the King ' and ' Rule, Britannia ; ' for although the former was written long before his time, it had no practical existence. In the year 1745 he wanted a loyal song for the theatre, and, happening to find or recollect this old forgotten melody, used it for the occasion, when it instantly gained the popularity which it still retains. The title of the ' National Anthem/ which newspaper phraseology has, of late years, given to it, is a misnomer. It is neither 'national' nor an ' anthem ; ' but, according to Arne's title, ' a loyal song/ The epithet 'national' might with more propriety be given to the second song and chorus, of which the subject is Britain. This noble and characteristic melody alone will serve to place Arne among the first of song-writers, and will never fail to ( arouse the generous flame ' of patriotism in the hearts of his countrymen." 332 JACOB BRYANT. JACOB BRYANT. IN the memoir of Gray an anecdote respecting that poet's early scholarship is quoted on the authority of Jacob Bryant, who was next to Gray in the school. This very learned writer was born at Plymouth in 1795. His father was a Custom-house officer there at the time of Jacob Bryant's birth, but was removed into Kent before his son was seven years old. Jacob Bryant received the rudiments of his education at Ludsdun, in the last-mentioned county, and was then placed at Eton, where he remained until he obtained a scholarship at King's in 1733. Bryant's astonishing powers of memory, and his application to study, gained him great reputation at Eton, and long after he had left the school, tradi- tions were current there of the intellectual feats which he had achieved. Though of a small and delicate frame he was con- spicuous among his young companions as a bold and skilful swimmer, and on one occasion he saved young Barnard (afterwards Dr. Barnard, Head Master and Provost of the College,) from being drowned ; an act for which Barnard was able in after years to prove his enduring gratitude. Bryant's zeal for classical learning, and in particular for its more abstruse portions, continued to stimulate him to unremitting industry, and to win him fresh fame at Cambridge. The Duke of Marlborough made him tutor to his sons; a connexion which afterwards obtained for Bryant a lucrative sinecure in the Ord- nance Office, and which also secured him, what he prized more, a kind and friendly home at Woodstock, with free access to the magnificent library of that mansion. Rich in what he most valued books and leisure for using them, and possessing pecuniary resources which were ample for his simple habits and moderate wants, Bryant passed a long and happy life of constant literary activity. His death, in 1804, was caused by mortification in the leg, which originated in an injury received by a fall in his library while taking down a book from one of the upper shelves : so that, as one of his French biographers expresses it, his long life closed by a death of honour like that of the soldier on the field of battle. JACOB BRYANT. 333 He marked his gratitade to King's College by bequeathing to it his large and valuable library. The first work Mr. Bryant published was in 1767, entitled " Observations and Inquiries relating to various parts of Ancient History, containing Dissertations on the Wind Euroclydon, and on the Island Melite, together with an Account of Egypt in its most early State, and of the Shepherd Kings." His grand work, called " A New System, or an Analysis of Ancient Mythology," was the next. This was published in quarto; vols. i. and ii. in 1774, and vol. iii. in 1776. In 1775 he published " A Vindication of the Apamean Medal, and of the Inscription NI2E ; together with an Illustration of another Coin struck at the same place in honour of the Emperor Severus." This appeared in the fourth volume of the Archaeologia, and also as a quarto pam- phlet. To these we must add " An Address to Dr. Priestley on the Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity;" a 1780 pamphlet 8vo. " Vindiciae Flavians ; or a Vindication of the Testimony given by Josephus concerning our Saviour Jesus Christ ;" a pamphlet 8vo, 1780. "Observations on the Poems of Thomas Rowley, in which the Authenticity of these Poems is ascertained." " Collections on the Zingara, or Gipsy Language." Archseologia, vol. vii. " Gemmarum antiquarum Delectus ex prsestantioribus desumptus in Dactylotheca Ducis Marlburiensis ;" two volumes, folio. " A Treatise on the Authenticity of the Scriptures, and the Truth of the Christian Religion ;" octavo, 1792. "Observations on the Plagues inflicted on the Egyptians ; in which is shown the Peculiarity of those Judgments and their Correspondence with the Rites and Idolatry of that People ; with a Prefatory Discourse concerning the Grecian Colonies from Egypt;" octavo, 1794. " Observations upon a Treatise entitled, Description of the Plain of Troy, by Mons. le Chevalier;" quarto, 1795. "A Dissertation concerning the War of Troy, and the Expedition of the Grecians, as described by Homer ; showing that no such Expedition was ever undertaken, and that no such City in Phrygia ever existed ;" quarto, 1796. In addition to these works Mr. Bryant was the author of two other volumes, entitled " The Sentiments of Philo- Judseus, concerning the Logos, or Word of God ; together with large Extracts from his Writings, compared with the Scriptures on many other essential Doctrines of the Christian Religion ;" octavo, 1797. And "Dissertations on Balaam, Samson, and Jonah;" 334 JACOB BRYANT. also, " Observations on famous Controverted Passages in Josephus and Justin Martyr." On many subjects Bryant was far in advance of his age. Thus, he maintained that all languages came from one primary language, and are traceable up to a common root. This, which is the received opinion of the best philologists of the present time, was a paradox to Bryant's contemporaries : and when we remember that com- parative philology is, like geology, a science only developed during the present generation, we must do justice to Bryant's originality of theory, and also to his industry in seeking proofs for that theory, not only in ancient and the commonly known modern languages, but also in those to which little or no attention has been paid before his time, especially in the singular Zingara, or Gipsy dialect. His views on Greek mythology may be best ascertained by the following extract from his analysis, which will show how far he anticipated the Modern Myth School, as it may be seen exem- plified in German writers in general, or in the two first volumes of Grote's History of Greece. Bryant says " I cannot acquiesce in the stale legends of Deucalion of Thessaly, of Inachus of Argos, and ^Egialcus of Sicyon, nor in the long line of princes that are derived from them. The supposed heroes of the first ages in every country are equally fabulous. No such conquests were ever achieved as are ascribed to Osiris, Dionusus, and Sesostris. The histories of Hercules and Perseus are equally void of truth. I am convinced, and I hope I shall satisfactorily prove, that Cadmus never brought letters to Greece, and that no such person existed as the Grecians have described. What I have said about Sesostris and Osiris will be repeated about Ninus and Semiramis, two per- sonages as ideal as the former. There never were such expeditions undertaken or conquests made, as are attributed to those princes : nor were any such empires constituted, as are supposed to have been established by them. I make as little account of the his- tories of Saturn, Venus, Pelops, Atlas, Dardanus, Minos of Crete, and Zoroaster of Bactria : yet something mysterious and of moment is concealed under those various characters, and the investigation of this latent truth will be the principal part of my inquiry. In respect to Greece, I can afford credence to very few events which were antecedent to the Olympiads. I cannot give the least assent to the story of Phryxus and the Golden Fleece. It seems to be plain beyond doubt, that there were no such persons JACOB BRYANT. 335 as the Grecian Argonauts, and that the expedition of Jason to Colchis was a fable." The difference between Bryant and the modern Myth people is, that he believed that these old legends veiled traditions of prim- aeval truths which he strove to discover, whereas the men of Myths fancy the legends to have been purely meaningless, and that the Greeks of the historical age were in the singular condition of being a nation that preserved no recollection or tradition of the events which brought their forefathers to the land which they lived in, or of anything that their forefathers did, or, in fact, of having had forefathers at all ; and yet possessed a mass of legends apparently genealogical and traditionary, which however were nothing of the kind, but had originated nobody can see how, and took their peculiar forms nobody could say why. In believing in the authenticity of the Rowley poems, Bryant erred in company of many of the most learned and able men of his time, who were imposed on by Chatterton's poetical forgeries. Bryant's works are little read now, nor are they likely hereafter often to be disturbed from their shelves. He was before his time as to philological science in more senses of the word than one. His knowledge of the Oriental languages was imperfect, and, generally speaking, his Induction was insufficient. This must always be the case with the first solitary explorers of vast regions of science. His well-meant zeal for making all profane mythology and history furnish proof of the truth of the Scriptural narrative, sometimes outran his discretion. His views as to the Homeric poems, in my judgment, (and I profess a full belief in the one Homer, author of the whole Iliad and the whole Odyssey, notwith- standing all the dogmatic doubts of ancient Alexandria and modern Germany,) were marked with the usual combination of scepticism and credulity which may be found in nearly all the theorists on that subject. But there is a part of Bryant's works on this topic which really well deserves perusal, not on account of its reasoning as to the authorship of the poem, but on account of the truth and extreme beauty of its comment on the poetry of the poem itself. Bryant maintained that some ancient chief, whose family had come from Egypt and settled in Ithaca, wrote the Iliad and Odyssey, and that he in the latter poem recounted his own adventures. In asserting this he states, most truly, that the Homeric poems must have been written by a person 336 JACOB BRYANT. thoroughly conversant with the sea, and who described its storms, &c., from long personal observation and experience, and not from a cursory visit to shores, or picking up a few hearsay narratives of shipwrecks. Bryant's criticisms show how well Bryant himself must have observed the phenomena of the Great Deep. And I shall quote some of them, in the hope that they may cause some readers, not only to appreciate Bryant, but to appreciate, more fully than previously may have been the case, the marvellousness, truthfulness, and beauty of Homer's descriptions. Bryant says, speaking of his imaginary author of the Iliad and Odyssey : " He was well acquainted with the sea, and all the dangers of that element, to which he must have often been witness, as we may judge from his repeated and fearful descriptions. Such are the following, which cannot be read without a secret horror : Oi 8" faav a.pya\ecav avffuav araXavroi at\\ri, "H pd ff inrb Ppovrfjs Trorpbs Aibs eiVl irtSovSf, 0 8' 6fj.dScf> a\l /^epyerai, eV Se re iroAAcb Kv/jLara ircup\d^ovra TroXvcpXalcrfioio 0a\dcro"ris, Kvpra, (f>a\7]pe6(aVTa .... II. N. v. 795. The Trojans join, and all terrific move, Like some fell whirlwind sent by angry Jove. O'er the vex'd land it sweeps, and seaward flies ; Then tumult, noise, and anarchy arise. Dire is the conflict, as the waves engage High towering, white with foam, and swoll'n with rage. "A similar instance, equally fearful, is given in another place, the same which was so admired by Plato : 'fls 8' 6r' eirl trpoxofjo'i SiiTrereos ttora/J.o'to RffipoxOet* fnfya Kvfj.a trorl p6oi>, aij. crxeSt'ijs avrbs vefff, mjSaA.iov 8e 'E/c Xfip&i' irpofTjKf, \itaov Se ol Iffrbv ea|e \Qovffa 6vt\\a. JACOB BRYANT. 337 ' inr6/3pvx& , ovSe Svi>d. 'Ch//6 Se 8^ p' avfSu, ffr6fia.ros 8' e^eirrvn-ev v, ri ol jro\\'fi curb Kpdros Kf\dpvev. Just as he spake a mighty wave wide-spread Rose high behind, and burst upon his head. He felt his raft whirl'd round, of winds the play, And from the helm he grasp'd was borne away. Rent was the mast, and in the middle fail'd : A whirlwind wild o'er all the sea prevail'd ; A fierce impetuous hurricane, combined Of every stormy gust, and lawless wind. The robe long held him plunged beneath the wave, The cumbrous robe, which erst Calypso gave. Nor could he yet resist nor upward move, The huge unwieldy surge still press'd above. At last he boldly strove, and at the close All drench'd and dripping to the surface rose. Forth from his mouth a bitter torrent sped, And the sea-brine ran oozing down his head. " At last, as he is borne up by a huge wave, he descries land, and exults with hopes of gaining the shore : but these hopes are ruined almost as soon as conceived: Kal 'AXA.' orf 5$i rpirov ?ifJ.ap Koi r6r' fireir' &vjj.os /j.ev "~Err\fTo vrjveftir], 6 8' a.pa ffxtSbv ficrtSe ycuav 'O|u juaAo irpoiStaVf fj.eyd\ov inrb Kiifiaros apOeis. 'fls S" '6rav airirda-ios fiioros iraiSfffffi s tv vovoio Trvpbs, TO 8e Kate-rat ityoO' 3,Ta6/j.if> ei> oloTr6\ef' rovs 8" owe I0f\o Tl6vTOV eTr' ixdvSevra ") S ( -iiAULES JAMES FOX. CHARLES JAMES FOX. THIS celebrated statesman, whose name even now stirs the spirits of contending politicians like a trumpet's sound, was bora on the 24th January, 1749. He was the third son of the Right Hon. Henry Fox, who, in 1763, was created Lord Holland, and of Lady Georgiana Carolina, the eldest daughter of Charles, second Duke of Richmond. In the memoir of the elder Fox I have drawn attention to the laxity of his principles as to religion and morals, and to his culpa- ble carelessness in jesting on such subjects without heeding who might be among his hearers. It is an act of justice to the memory of Charles James Fox, to fix this in our minds at the very outset of our considerations of his career and character. No pen can describe, probably no heart can adequately feel the important blessing which it is to have in early childhood, not only the lessons, but the examples, of piety and virtue taught by a parent. No one can tell the fatal extent to which the young mind is almost necessarily corrupted, if the child sees him, whom it naturally loves and reveres the most, set at nought in conversation and con- duct the devotion, the self-restraint, and the decorum, which others tell it in vain to admire and practise. If Charles James Fox had been blessed with such a father as watched over the childhood of his rival the younger Pitt, can we doubt that he would have escaped many of the grievous errors which deformed his life, and that his character would shine unsullied by the blots which even his warmest admirers are compelled to own and lament ? Henry Fox, though an erring and an unwise, was a fond and most indulgent father. He was proud of the abilities which his son early manifested, and took care that his intellect should have every advantage that tuition could bestow. Having commenced his education in a preparatory school at Wandsworth, Fox was sent, at the age of nine, to Eton. Here his progress was very rapid ; and, as is well remarked by the writer of the admirable epitome of his life in "Knight's Cyclopaedia," while he thus early gave unequivocal indications of the powers of mind which afterwards yielded so rich and abundant a harvest, he was not less distinguished among his school-companions for that warmth CHARLES JAMES FOX. 359 of feeling and amiability of character which, through life, served to make men his friends and keep them so. His education was inter- rupted, before he was fifteen, by a three months' trip to Paris and to Spa, in which he was accompanied by his father ; and the interruption is of more consequence than otherwise it could have been, if it be true, as is represented, that to the misplaced indul- gence of the father during this tour is to be traced the devotion to the gaming-table, which ever after was the principal alloy of Fox's happiness. " He had left school a boy," says Mr. Allen, in his biographical sketch in the "Encyclopaedia Britannica ;" "he returned to it with all the follies and fopperies of a young man." The extent of Fox's unhappy passion for the gambling-table may perhaps be judged of, from the notorious saying of which he is the reputed originator. Being asked what was the greatest happi- ness in life, he replied, " To play, and win :" being asked what was the next greatest, he replied, "To play, and lose." It must have been during the years which Fox spent at Eton, that he laid the foundations of the sound classical scholarship which distinguished him through life. He not only read the classic authors extensively, and acquired from them " that exquisite taste which familiarity with the classics bestows," s but he read with critical accuracy : he made himself not merely a scholar among statesmen, but a scholar among scholars. Any one who will turn to his published correspondence with Gilbert Wakefield about Homer, may easily be convinced of this. Moreover, the great writers of Greece and Rome became to Fox as it were cherished friends, whose intercourse he ever loved to recur to, even in the intervals of the fiercest political conflicts and the wildest dissipation. One anecdote told of Fox is, that once, after losing heavy sums at play, he suddenly left the gambling-house. Some of his friends who were there, and who correctly supposed that he had staked and lost his last shilling, finding that he did not return, grew alarmed lest he should have committed suicide, and went eagerly to his house. There they found him stretched on the ground, reading his favourite author, Herodotus, and in the charm of the old Halicarnassian's narrative totally forgetting his own follies and ruinous losses. From Eton, young Fox went to Hertford College, Oxford, where he soon became renowned throughout the university for his talents :I Lord Brougham. 3GO < IIAIM.KS .IA.MKS FOX. and his excesses. An extravagantly ample allowance was not equal to the claims on it that were caused by his early taste for every species of folly and excess. It is easy to conceive, that, when emancipated from the slight restrictions of Oxford life, his habits and propensities expanded with the expansion of his sphere of action and gratification in London. He still, however, retained his natural ardent desire of scientific acquisition, and many an instance in his public life showed how ready he was to avail himself of every opportunity to store his mind with elegant, accurate, and useful knowledge of every description. And, perhaps, it is to be lamented that the extreme brilliancy of his faculties, and the energy of his genius, enabled him to discriminate characters, to comprehend circumstances, and to appreciate facts almost instan- taneously and intuitively ; as this mental facility .only afforded him more time for dissipation. Soon after he left Oxford he made a tour on the continent, during which he is said to have contracted vast debts in every capital which he visited ; at Naples alone his liabilities amounted to 16,000/. Alarmed at his boundless prodigality, Lord Holland at length summoned him home, and he returned one of the most egregious coxcombs in Europe. " It will be scarcely supposed," says a writer in the " Monthly Magazine" for October, 1806, " by those who have seen Mr. Fox, or examined his dress at any time during the last twenty years, that he had been once celebrated as a beau garcpn ; but the fact is, that at this period he was one of the most fashionable young men about town, and there are multitudes now living who still recollect his chapeau bras, his red-heeled shoes, and his blue hair-powder." In his absence, and before he was yet of age, he had been elected member of Parliament for Midhurst. He took his seat in Parliament as a supporter of the Duke of Graftoii's ministry. His father, who had entered public life under the auspices of Sir Robert Walpole, had in the progress of time become estranged from the Whig party ; and it was from the opinions of the father at this period in favour of the Court and of an administration whose strength was in the Court, that the beginning of Fox's political career derived its character. Fox made his first speech on the 15th of April, 1769, on the subject of the famous Middlesex election, supporting the decision in favour of Colonel Luttrel and against Mr. AVilkes. In February, 1770, when the Duke of Grafton CHARLES JAMES FOX. 361 was succeeded by Lord North as Premier, Fox was appointed a junior Lord of the Admiralty. He resigned this situation two years after, in consequence of some misunderstanding with Lord North ; but in less than twelve months he was brought back into the ministry, being appointed, in January, 1773, one of the Lords of the Treasury. He now supported Lord North for another year, at the end of which period he was somewhat unceremoniously turned again out of office. The truth is, that Fox, even while a ministerialist, was by no means a thorough-going partisan of Lord North. In 1772 he opposed the Royal Marriage Act, when brought in by the ministry. And again, in 1773, he both voted and spoke against his official colleagues on the subject of Sir William Meredith's motion respecting signature to the Thirty-nine Articles. There were also several occasions at the Council-Board when he freely expressed his own opinions in opposition to those of his political chief, and was equally free in censuring and ridiculing those upheld by Lord North. Fox also had now formed an intimate friendship with Mr. Burke, and the conversation of that states- man exercised great influence in modifying Fox's opinions on many points, an influence which Fox afterwards frequently bore witness to, even after the unhappy differences which the French Revolution created between him and Burke. It is probable, there- fore, that Fox and Lord North grew gradually more and more estranged from each other during 1773, and that Fox's abrupt dismissal in 1774 was not caused by an ebullition of anger in that singularly good-tempered statesman Lord North, but that it was the result of a determination which he had formed to get rid of Fox on the first opportunity. It is also always to be remembered that Lord North's disastrous measures respecting America had not been commenced, nor even discussed, before Fox had ceased to be a member of his ministry. The immediate cause and the manner of Fox's dismissal are humorously narrated in a sketch of Fox, which appeared among the " Descriptions of Public Characters/' originally published in Woodfall's newspaper, and afterwards collected and reprinted in 1777. It has the advantage of being a fresh and contemporary sketch, though somewhat imperfect, and in many respects unfairly severe on Fox, especially as to his having been Lord North's 302 ( IIAIILKS JAMES F<>.\. unscrupulous advocate on all subjects and on all occasions. At the time this was written, Fox was in furious opposition. The author, after a slightly erroneous reference to the precise day of Fox's birth, says, " We find that this young gentleman united in his own person talents and circumstances unparalleled in the annals of parliament, or the strange vicissitudes of state-intrigue : for he was appointed a Lord of the Admiralty, resigned in disgust, was a second time appointed, was afterwards removed to the Treasury Board, whence he was dismissed some few weeks before he completed the twenty-fifth year of his age. Two other circum- stances strongly mark his political career ; before he was twenty- four years old, he was by much the most able support the Minister had in the course of a whole session, and, within a year after, one of his most powerful and dangerous antagonists. "The political history of this extraordinary young orator fur- nishes very few things worthy of notice. His conduct, as long as he remained in office, was that of the most violent and unreserved courtier. He not only discharged his duty as a mere placeman, called upon by his situation to defend the measures of administra- tion, to cover their blunders, to urge their propriety, to predict the salutary consequences that must flow from them, and the whole science of augmenting and diminishing at pleasure, but he caught the decisive tone of a violent partisan, in a kind of state of war and open hostility against every man who dared to differ from him, or question the ministerial infallibility of his leader and financial creator. " His parliamentary operations, in this line, were chiefly directed against Mr. Burke and a few other leaders in opposition. This part of his task he performed with remarkable punctuality and alacrity, and with no small degree of success. Some detached part of Mr. Burke' s speech, not perhaps at all essential to the main subject of debate, was misquoted or misrepresented; the fallacy or absurdity of its pretended contents was pointed out and animad- verted upon; and the whole thrown into a ridiculous light; a laugh was created in every ministerial corner of the House; the Treasury bench was set in a roar, and Charles smacked the clerk's table with his hand, and moulded his feathered hat into ten thousand different forms. Burke's fine speeches were thus cut up; Charles was applauded; and every tool of administration, from his Lordship down to Robinson, Eden, and Brummcl r at the door/ or in the CHARLES JAMES FOX. 363 gallery, loudly proclaimed victory. This office is now occupied by his particular friend and worthy associate [Thurlow] . There were two other gentlemen on whom he bestowed a great deal of atten- tion in the same way. They at length perceived their folly, and the justice of his ridicule so much, that one of them changed places with him, and the other accepted of a white wand, as a public testimony of his conversion. " In the midst of victory, flushed with success, and running at the rate of fourteen knots an hour, with every sail set, and in the warmest expectation of at least procuring at a short day the Chan- cellorship of the Exchequer, his friend and patron having frequently assured him, in confidence, that he wished to divide the fame* profits, and labour of conducting public affairs with him, our hero, like a certain well-known ambitious young man of Ovidian memory, was thrown from the box, as he says, by the baseness and treachery of the first coachman. To drop all allegory, terrene or marine, the following trifling matter was what produced the sad catastrophe ! The Speaker, a few days before, having put the question on a petition against an inclosing bill, a letter, said to have been written by the celebrated Parson Home, appeared three or four days after in a morning paper. The letter was conceived in very coarse terms, and betrayed an ignorance of both the usages of the House, of the truth of the transaction, and indeed of every rule of decency. A complaint was accordingly made by a member, of the unjustifiable liberties that had been taken with Sir Fletcher Norton, of the injustice of the charge, and the necessity there was for bringing the author or authors to the most exemplary punish- ment. The printer was ordered to attend : he complied with the order, and gave up his author, the parson. What happened on that occasion is recent in every body's memory ; it is now enough to observe, that the charge not being brought home to Mr. Home, the displeasure of the House fell on the printer. Mr. Fox either misunderstanding the previous instructions given him that morn- ing by the minister, or the minister forgetting them, or choosing to forget them, the former insisted that the printer should be committed to Newgate, while the latter moved that he should be committed to the Gatehouse. At length the question on Colonel Herbert's original motion being put, for ' committing the printer to the custody of the serjeant-at-arms/ it was carried by a great majority. 364 CHARLES JAMES FOX. "This unexpected desertion of the minister and his faithful coadjutor bore, it is true, a very awkward appearance. Charles and his patron recriminated on each other : Charles said he would have carried his concerted motion, if the minister had not deserted and betrayed him ; the latter as strenuously insisted that he must have prevailed, if the other had not distracted and divided the friends of administration. Be that as it may, it was necessary that the blame should be laid somewhere, in order to mitigate the dis- pleasure of the junto ; it was all therefore laid on our hero's shoulders, in the following concise but comprehensive manner. The next day but one, Charles and his noble patron were sitting on the Treasury bench ; after chatting of indifferent matters, par- ticularly of the business of the day coming on, and what passed the preceding day at the Treasury board, which intervened between the night when the difference of opinion arose and the transaction here related, Pearson,* or his substitute, threw a sign, which Charles understanding, went to the door, where he received a billet, couched in the following laconic terms: ' His majesty has thought proper to order a new commission of the Treasury to be made out, in which I do not perceive your name. 'NORTH/ " From that very hour to the present he has been as violent in opposition as he was before for the Court. Luckily however for him, in point of consistency, during the busy scene he acted in, and the very conspicuous part he took, the affairs of America never came under formal or solemn discussion. In about a fortnight or three weeks after he commenced patriot, Colonel Jennings, as has been before observed, as it were compelled the minister to take the state of that country into consideration; the first decided part Charles took, therefore, in that business was against administration. The ground he has taken is pretty nearly the same as Lord Cam- den's in the other House ; with this additional circumstance, that besides arraigning the injustice, cruelty, impolicy, and impractica- bility of succeeding in an attempt to subdue America, or compel its inhabitants to consent to the terms of unconditional submission, he has from time to time alternately foretold and demonstrated the inefficacy, folly, and madness of the several measures as they were proposed in parliament, and the ignorance, temerity, and dangerous designs of their authors, supporters, and defenders. Besides this general disapprobation of the conduct of those to whom the direc- 4 The door-keeper of the House of Commons. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 365 tion of public affairs has been intrusted, he has very frequently exercised his wit and his spleen on the minister ; sometimes charg- ing him with indolence and inability ; at others with incapacity, duplicity, and the most ill-founded affectation of candour and independency; again with being the real author of the present civil war in America, by refusing to repeal the whole of the port-duties ; or, lastly, supposing (which was what he said his Lordship sometimes affects to insinuate, and wishes his friends to insinuate for him,) that he disapproves of the measures he supports himself in parlia- ment, his conduct is still the more reprehensible, because in one event he can be supposed to act wrong through prejudice or incapacity only, whereas in the other he must be guilty from a premeditated perversion of his understanding. " Mr. Fox is certainly one of the first native orators in the House, but he is extremely negligent. His discourses are fre- quently finished pieces of argumentation, abounding in the best pointed observations and the justest conclusions ; and supported by a weight of reasoning, a manly boldness and energy of expres- sion, almost unequalled, and never, within the course of our knowledge or experience, surpassed. His extemporaiy speeches on facts, arguments, and details, not immediately arising nor con- nected with the proper subjects of debate, at least not foreseen, are truly admirable. They bear every appearance of the most studied and laboured harangues, in everything but the delivery, which, however rapid, is not able to keep pace with the crowded concep- tions of the speaker. His ideas are inexhaustible, and are ever ready at his command ; but even if this were all, we could account for it easily ; but we must listen in silent astonishment, when we observe him rise upon some sudden unexpected incident, and discuss perhaps a deep intricate subject for an hour, with an ability, perspicuity, and precision, that would induce such as are unacquainted with his habits, or are ignorant of his talents, to be persuaded that he came to the House previously prepared and informed, in order to deliver his opinion. With these almost unrivalled gifts which Nature has bestowed, Mr. Fox is far from being a pleasing or persuasive orator. His utterance is rapid, disagreeable, and sometimes scarcely intelligible. He speaks always as if he was in a passion, and the arguments of passionate people do not come well-recommended. He sometimes descends to personal attacks, to anecdotes and puerilities, much beneath the 366 CHARLES JAMES FOX. dignity of a British senator, particularly a man of his consummate talents." In 1774, Lord North commenced his disastrous system of coercion and penal laws against America; and Fox at once stood forward as the leader of the Opposition against that policy. In that opposition he never flagged or wavered. He maintained the principle that the colonies ought not to be taxed without being represented; and he pointed out the inexpediency of trying to wring taxes from them, at the risk of driving them into rebellion. It is to be remembered, in justice both to Lord North and to his opponents, that our overbearing policy towards the colonies was fully sanctioned by the public feeling of this country ; and that, when actual hostilities commenced, the war was at first highly popular in England. It was only when repeated defeats brought dishonour, and when war-taxes began to press severely, that any national outcry was raised against the course pursued towards America. When Fox, with Burke, and the rest of the small but gifted band who acknowledged Fox as their chief, began their struggle against Lord North, they cannot be said to have been influenced by any hope of currying favour with the people, any more than with the King. They deserve full credit for having acted solely out of a sense of justice, and a hatred of oppression. I cannot say that these pure motives remained unalloyed with any of a lower nature throughout the struggle. I cannot say that a desire to hunt the minister from power, and to secure it for them- selves, did not, towards the close of the war, add venom to their invectives, and energy to their attacks. Still less would I approve of the extent to which, by their restless and indiscriminate opposi- tion to the minister, they crippled and embarrassed the efforts made by this country in the war. As long as there was a possi- bility of averting the war, as long as there was any chance of effecting a sincere and permanent reconciliation with America, they were justified and right in opposing to the very utmost Lord North's irritating and tyrannical policy. But when the question between us and America was irretrievably committed to the Appeal of Battle, when the scabbard was thrown away, Fox, and Burke, and their coadjutors, ought to have remembered that though they were Whigs, they were Englishmen ; and they should have recoiled from every speech or scheme that had a tendency to disunite our councils, or palsy our military operations. It is to CHARLES JAMES FOX. 3G7 me inexpressibly repulsive to read of "the glory of Mr. Burke's career being during the American War," and that " the brilliant period of Fox's life was towards the end of Lord North's admini- stration/' and other expressions of the kind, which the biographers of Fox and Burke delight in. A statesman ought to feel sorrow and shame at finding himself in such a position, that his coun- try's disasters and dishonours must contribute to his personal advancement. For several years Fox and his friends expended their eloquence in unsuccessful attacks upon the compact majorities, the " Junctas umbone phalanges " of the minister. But the power of the Opposition, both within and without the House of Commons, gradually increased. On the 6th of April, 1780, Fox and Burke carried their celebrated Resolutions against the influence of the Crown, and for an inquiry into the public expenditure. A dissolution of Parliament followed; and Fox was requested, by a large number of the inhabitants of Westminster to become a candidate for the representation of that important constituency, at the general election of that year. Fox stood, and succeeded, though opposed by all the influence of the Court and the Cabinet, and by the most unscrupulous exercise of intrigue and intimidation. The minister obtained a precarious majority, on the assembling of the new Parliament. But on the 22nd of February, 1782, a motion for an Address to the Crown against a continuance of the war was lost only by one vote; and when revived under a somewhat different form, five days after, was carried by a majority of nineteen. On the 19th of March, the ministers resigned their posts. On the formation of the new ministry under Lord Rockingham, Fox was appointed Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. He immediately commenced negotiations for peace. But disputes soon arose in the Cabinet between Fox and Lord Shelburne, who, as the partisans of Fox state, had been introduced by the King into the ministry against Lord Rockingham's and Fox's wish, for the sake of preserving for the King a constant engine for thwart- ing Fox's plans. Lord Rockingham died only four months after the formation of his ministry; and Fox instantly sent in his resignation, a step in which he was followed by several of Lord Rockiugham's friends. 368 rilAIM.F.S .TANKS FOX. Lord Shclburnc now formed a ministry, in which William Pitt was Chancellor of the Exchequer. He had not been long in Parliament; and he and Fox had hitherto acted in concert with each other on the two great questions of the American war and Par- liamentary Reform. But for the time, the Shelburne ministry being formed, they became antagonists in the mightiest intellectual struggle which the world had ever witnessed, since the time when the great Athenian orator strove against ^Eschines and Fortune. Lord North was excluded from the Shelburne ministry, and was as bitter against it as was Fox. Hence these late enemies acquired one of the two necessary elements for forming a friendship the idem nolle. I fear we must add, that the strong desire of each of them for power gave the other element the idem velle. It was no longer a question in Parliament or in the country whether there should be a peace or not ; the only question was as to the terms of the peace. Lord Shelburne made peace on terms which Lord North and Mr. Fox concurred in censuring, and they also united all their power and influence to turn him out of office, and to place themselves in it. This is the celebrated coalition which has been denounced and defended with more eloquence than probably ever before or since has been expended on any political measure. Fox's friends main- tain " that when the great question of peace or war with America, which formerly had divided Fox and North, was settled, and each was assured that he could place reliance upon the good faith of the other, the similarity of their political positions brought about a coalition. That coalition may have been ill-judged; and the result indeed showed that the parties had not formed a correct estimate of the public opinion, which was an important element in the problem to be solved. But there was not a shade of dishonesty in the transaction. And inasmuch as it should be the object of every statesman to extract the greatest possible amount of good out of the political circumstances of the time, such a coalition would seem to be correct in principle, and to be approved, if only it be expedient and free from dishonour." * It would be easy to quote, on the other side, the most unmea- sured condemnation of Fox's conduct. But let us hear the candid and judicious remarks of Sheridan's eloquent biographer on the subject, and on the general principle of political coalitions : " To 5 Knight's Cyclopaedia. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 369 the general principle of coalitions/' says Mr. Moore, "and the expediency and even duty of forming them, in conjunctures that require and justify such a sacrifice of the distinctions of party, no objection, it appears to me, can rationally be made by those who are satisfied with the manner in which the constitution has worked, since the new modification of its machinery introduced at the Revolution. The Revolution itself was, indeed, brought about by a coalition, in which Tories, surrendering their doc- trines of submission, arrayed themselves by the side of Whigs, in defence of their common liberties. Another coalition, less important in its object and effects, but still attended with results most glorious to the country, was that which took place in the year 1757, when by a union of parties from whose dissension much mischief had flowed, the interests of both King and people were reconciled, and the good genius of England triumphed at home and abroad. On occasions like these, when the public liberty or safety is in peril, it is the duty of every honest statesman to say, with the Roman, ' Non me impedient privates offensiones, quominus pro reipublicse salute etiam cum inimicissimo consen- tiam." J Such cases, however, but rarely occur; and they have been in this respect, among others, distinguished from the ordinary occasions, on which the ambition or selfishness of politicians resorts to such unions, that the voice of the people has called aloud for them in the name of the public weal ; and that the cause round which they have rallied has been sufficiently general, to merge all party titles in the one undistinguishing name of Eng- lishman. By neither of these tests can the junction between Lord North and Mr. Fox be justified. The people at large, so far from calling for this ill-omened alliance, would, on the contrary to use the language of Mr. Pitt have " forbid the banns ;" and though it is unfair to suppose that the interests of the public did not enter into the calculations of the united leaders, yet, if the real watch- word of their union were to be demanded of them in " the Palace of Truth," there can be little doubt that the answer of each would be, distinctly and unhesitatingly, " Ambition." The coalesced parties succeeded [Feb. 1783] in carrying a vote of censure against the Shelburne ministry, which instantly resigned ; and, after some delay, caused by the King's personal reluctance to employ Lord North and Fox, a ministry was announced on the 2nd of April, of which the Duke of Portland was 370 CHARLES JAMES FOX. Premier, and in which Lord North and Fox were Secretaries of State. This administration was hut a short-lived one ; the King's hatred to it being intense, the general feeling of the country being against it, and every engine of open assault or secret undermining being set in full activity against it, even in the very highest quarters. The principal measure brought forward by the coalition ministry was their celebrated bill for reforming the adminis- tration of our possessions in the East Indies. By this bill the government of our Indian provinces was to be vested in a board consisting of seven members, who were to be appointed, the first time by Parliament, but always afterwards by the Crown, for a period either of three or five years. This bill gave rise to long and vehement debates, in which the genius of Pitt, who now led the Opposition, clashed in equal con- flict against the fervid eloquence of Fox and Burke. Pitt said, he would acknowledge " that India indeed wanted a reform, but not such a reform as this. The bill under consideration included a confiscation of the property, and a disfranchisement of the mem- bers, of the East India Company. The influence which would accrue from this bill a new, enormous, and unexampled influence was indeed in the highest degree alarming. Seven commis- sioners, chosen ostensibly by Parliament, but really by administra- tion, were to involve in the vortex of their authority the patronage and treasures of India ! The right honourable mover had acknowledged himself to be a man of ambition, and it now appeared that he was prepared to sacrifice the King, the Parlia- ment, and the people at the shrine of his ambition ! He desired to elevate his present connexions to a situation in which no political convulsions, and no variations of power, might be able to destroy their importance, and terminate their ascendency." On the other hand, Fox with astonishing eloquence and ability vindicated the bill. " The arguments of his opponents," he said, " might have been adopted with additional propriety by James the Second. James might have claimed the property of dominion: but what had been the language of the people ? No ! you have no property in dominion ; dominion was vested in you, as it is in every chief magistrate, for the benefit of the community to be governed. It was a sacred trust delegated by compact ; you have abused it. You have exercised dominion for the purpose CHARLES JAMES FOX. 371 of vexation and tyranny, not of comfort, protection, and good order; we therefore resume the power which was originally ours. I am also," continued the orator, " charged with increas- ing the influence, and giving an immense accession of power to the Crown. But certainly this bill as little augments the influence of the Crown as any measure that could be devised for the govern- ment of India, with the slightest promise of success. The very genius of influence consists in hope or fear, fear of losing what we have, or hope of gaining more. Make the commissioners removable at will, and you set all the little passions of human nature afloat. Invest them with power, upon the same tenure as the British judges hold their station, removable upon delin- quency, punishable upon guilt, but fearless of danger if they discharge their trust, and they will be liable to no seduce- ment, and will execute their functions with glory to themselves, and for the common good of the country and mankind. This bill presumes the possibilitj' of bad administration ; for every word in it breathes suspicion. It supposes that men arc but men : it confides in no integrity; it trusts to no character. It annexes responsibility, not only to every action, but even to the inaction of the powers it has created. He would risk," he said, "his all upon the excellence of this bill. He would risk upon it whatever was most dear to him, whatever men most valued, the character of integrity, of talents, of honour, of present reputation and future fame, all these he would stake upon the constitutional safety, the enlarged policy, the equity and wisdom of the measure. Whatever might be the fate of its authors, he had no fear but it would produce to this country every blessing of commerce and revenue ; and, by extending a generous and humane government over those millions whom the inscrutable dispensations of Providence had placed under us in the remotest regions of the earth, would conse- crate the name of England among the noblest of nations." The East India Company and the City of London petitioned earnestly against the bill; but it was carried through the House of Commons by large majorities, and taken up to the House of Lords on the 8th of December. The King, who was himself the principal leader of the Opposition against Fox, exerted himself to the utmost to defeat the obnoxious measure in the Upper House. It was said by Lord Camden that the tendency of the bill was to set up a King of Bengal against the 11 I! -J 372 CHARLES JAMES FOX. King of England. George the Third certainly so regarded it, and he spared no means to secure himself from his threatened Indian rival. Earl Temple received from him authority to state that " whoever voted for the India Bill, was not only not his Majesty's friend, but would be considered by him as an enemy/' Recruited thus by the " King's friends," the Opposition Peers fiercely and successfully assailed the King's ministers. Two law lords, Camden and Thurlow, were conspicuous in the attack. On the 17th of December it was moved that the bill be rejected; and, after a vehement debate, the motion was carried by eighty-five against seventy-six voices. The King promptly followed up his victory. At midnight on the 18th of December, a royal message was sent to the Secretaries of State, demanding the seals of their several departments, and at the same time directing that they should be delivered to the Sove- reign by the Under-Secretaries, as a personal interview would be disagreeable. Early next morning, letters of dismission, signed " Temple," were sent to the other members of the Cabinet. In a few days after, Pitt was declared First Lord of the Treasury, and Chancellor of the Exchequer. The new ministers very soon found themselves in a minority in the House of Commons. Two resolutions one for preventing the payment of any public money from the Treasury, Exchequer, or Bank of England, in case of a prorogation or dissolution, unless the supplies should be previously appropriated by Act of Parlia- ment ; and the other, postponing the Mutiny Bill were moved by Fox and carried by a considerable majority. The object of these resolutions was to render an immediate dissolution impracticable. Resolutions against the ministers and against the mode of their appointment, together with addresses to the Crown for their dis- missal, followed. But Pitt stood firm ; the majority against him, which at first had been formidable, fast dwindled down ; and, after the King had twice refused his assent to Pitt's dismissal, he dis- solved the Parliament. The last effort of the Opposition had been the carrying of a representation to the Crown, written by Fox, which pointed out the evils of an administration that was at variance with a majority of the representatives of the people. In the election that followed, Pitt obtained a decisive majority. Fox was again elected for Westminster ; but Sir Cecil Wray, the unsuccessful candidate, having demanded a scrutiny, the high CHARLES JAMES FOX. 373 bailiff took upon himself to make no return of representatives for that city. Fox was in consequence compelled to appear in Parlia- ment as member for a Scotch borough; but the conduct of the high bailiff was one of the first matters brought before the House on its meeting. The Westminster scrutiny was one of the chief questions agitated for some time, and some consider that the speech made by Fox himself on it ought to be placed at the head of all his speeches. Fox at last succeeded in establishing the validity of his West- minster election, but not till after a long and expensive struggle in which, certainly, his great opponent, Pitt, showed more unfair- ness and personal animosity than can be traced in any other part of his career. Fox took an active part in the discussions in Parliament respect- ing the impeachment of Warren Hastings, and in the management of the impeachment before the House of Lords. The principal credit or blame of the proceedings against Hastings must rest with Burke, who was, from first to last, the instigator and prime mover of them. Those who consider, as I do, that the conduct of Burke and his party towards Warren Hastings was an ungrateful perse- cution of a patriotic and successful statesman, will gladly pass over the passages of Fox's life in which he was content to act with Burke as one of Hastings' accusers. In 1788 Fox retired from the storms of English politics to the Continent, and during the tour which he made there, he passed a few days at Lausanne with the historian Gibbon. In a letter written soon afterwards, Gibbon expressed warmly the delight which he had felt at the visit, and in Fox's society. He says " Our conversation never nagged a moment, and he seemed thoroughly pleased with the place and with his company. We had little politics ; though he gave me, in a few words, such a character of Pitt as one great man should give of another, his rival ; many of books, from my own, on which he flattered me very pleasantly, to Homer and the Arabian Nights ; much about the country, my garden, whicli he understands far better than I do ; and, upon the whole, I think he envies me, and would do so were he minister." Fox was summoned back to England by the news of the alarming illness, and temporary insanity, of George the Third. In the debates on the Regency question, which followed, Fox was induced by his personal intimacy with the Prince of Wales to maintain the 374 fHAKLKS .miKS FOX. doctrine, that, on the reigning sovereign becoming incapable to exercise the functions of royalty, the regency belonged of right to the heir-apparent. Pitt upheld the far more Whiggish doctrine that it was for the two Houses of Parliament in such a case to appoint a regent. In the short interval which came between the debates on the Regency question, and our being involved in the wars of the French Revolution, Fox supported motions for the Repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts, for the Abolition of the Slave Trade, and for Parliamentary Reform. He had a vehement dispute (on the Ockazow armament, 1791) with Pitt, as to the general policy to be pursued by this country towards Russia and France, in which the views of the younger of the two statesmen were certainly the most long-sighted and judicious. Fox also in this interval did a real service towards the improvement of our constitutional law, by the introduction of his celebrated Libel Bill, of which full mention has been made in the memoir of Lord Camden. Before this country participated in the European war against the French Republic, and soon after the first outbreaks of the Revolu- tion in France took place, the old friendship between Fox and Burke was severed, and the party of which they had hitherto been the united chiefs, was rent asunder by their dissension. Fox wel- comed the French Revolution as the opening of an era of freedom throughout the world. Burke shuddered at it as the commence- ment of an epoch of anarchy and oppression. Fox thought exclu- sively of the immediate wrongs which it abolished, and of its immediate recognition of human rights. Burke thought of nothing but of the destructive process by which it wrought its changes, and of the destructive spirit which it had evoked. Burke's celebrated " Reflections " on the French Revolution were published in November, 1790, and Fox freely spoke his censure of its opinions, and his disagreement with its forebodings. Each of them had in Parliament expressed his views of the occurrences in France before the memorable scene in which Burke formally abjured Fox's friend- ship. That occurred on the 6th of May, 1791, when a motion as to the recommitment of the Quebec Bill, a question on which both orators had spoken of France, gave Burke an opportunity of which he instantly availed himself. The following is part of the current account of " this scene, so singular in a public assembly, where the natural aHeetioiis arc but seldom called out, and where, though CHARLES JAMES FOX. 375 bursts of temper like that of Burke are common, such tears as those shed by Mr. Fox are rare phenomena." " It certainly," said Mr. Burke, " was indiscretion at any period, but especially at his time of life, to provoke enemies, or to give his friends occasion to desert him ; yet, if his firm and steady adherence to the British constitution placed him in such a dilemma, he would risk all, and, as public duty and public prudence taught him, with his last words exclaim, ' Fly from the French constitution/ " Mr. Fox here whispered, that " there was no loss of friendship." " Yes, there is," Mr. Burke exclaimed ; " I know the price of my conduct ; I have done my duty at the price of my friend ; our friendship is at an end." At the conclusion of Mr. Burke's speech, Fox rose, but it was some minutes before his tears allowed him to proceed. So soon as he could speak, he pressed upon Mr. Burke the claims of a friendship of five-and-twenty years' duration ; but to no purpose. Burke was implacable, and they never met as friends again. Though Burke could thus cast off his friendship for Fox, he always did justice to the amiability of his character. Many years afterwards, when some one in Burke's presence was speaking of Fox, and the devotion of his adherents to him, Burke remarked, with a sigh, " Ah, he was indeed a man to be loved ! " On the opening of Parliament on the 13th of December, 1792, it was intimated in the speech from the throne that " His Majesty had judged it necessary to embody a part of the militia, and to call the Parliament together within the time limited for that purpose;" and the grounds of these strong measures were stated to be " the seditious practices which had been discovered, and the spirit of tumult and disorder shown in acts of riot and insurrection which required the interposition of a military force in support of the civil magistrate. The industry employed to excite discontent on various pretexts, and in different parts of the kingdom, appeared," it was added, " to proceed from a design to attempt the destruction of our happy constitution and the subversion of all order and govern- ment ; and this design had evidently been pursued in connexion and concert with persons in foreign countries. I have," said his Majesty, " carefully observed a strict neutrality in the present war on the Continent, and have uniformly abstained from any inter- ference with respect to the internal government of France ; but it is impossible for me to see without the most serious uneasiness the strong and increasing indications, which have appeared there, of an 376 CHARLES JAMES FOX. intention to excite disturbances in other countries, to disregard the rights of neutral nations, and pursue views of conquest and aggrandizement, as well as to adopt towards my allies, the states- general, measures which are neither conformable to the law of nations, nor to the positive stipulations of existing treaties/' Under these circumstances his Majesty thought it right to have recourse to those means of prevention and internal defence with which he was entrusted by law, and to make some augmentation of his naval and military force. On moving the address, in answer to the speech, a memorable debate arose, in which Fox made one of his most vigorous and characteristic speeches. He began by observing, that " his Majesty's speech contained a variety of assertions of the most extraordinary nature. It was the duty of that House to inquire into the truth of these assertions ; and in discharging this part of his duty, he should consider the speech from the throne as the speech of the minister, which his Majesty's confidential servants had advised him to deliver ; and as they were responsible for that advice, to them every observation of his should be addressed. I state it, therefore," said Fox, " to be my firm opinion and belief that there is not one fact asserted in his Majesty's speech which is not false; not one assertion or insinuation which is not unfounded. Nay, I cannot be so uncandid as to believe that ministers themselves think them true ! The leading and prominent feature of the speech is a wanton and base calumny on the people of Great Britain, an insinuation of so black a nature that it demands the most rigorous inquiry and the most severe punishment. The next assertion is, that there exists at this moment an insurrection in this kingdom. An insurrection ! Where is it ? Where has it reared its head ? Good God ! an insurrection in Great Britain ? The speech goes on in the same strain of falsehood and calumny, and says, ' The industry employed to excite discontent on various pretexts, and in different parts of the kingdom, has appeared to proceed from a design to attempt the destruction of our happy constitution, and the subversion of all order and government.' I desire gentlemen to consider these words, and I demand of their honour and truth, if they believe this assertion to be founded in fact. There have been, as I understand, and as every one must have heard, some slight riots in different parts : I have heard of a tumult at Shields"; of another at Leith; of some riot at Yarmouth; and of something of the same CHAKLES JAMES FOX. 377 nature at Perth and Dundee. But I ask gentlemen if they believe that in each of these places the avowed object of the complaints of the people was not the real one that the sailors at Shields, Yar- mouth, and other places, did not really want some increase of their wages, but were actuated by a design of overthrowing the constitution ? Is there a man in England who believes this insinu- ation to be true ? " Fox next adverting to what had fallen from Wallace, who, in seconding the motion of address, adduced as a proof that there existed in this country a dangerous spirit, " the drooping and dejected aspect of many persons, when the tidings of Dumourier's surrender arrived in England/' said " Admitting the fact in its utmost extent, could any man who loves the constitution of England, who feels its principles in his heart, wish success to the Duke of Brunswick, after reading a manifesto which violated every doctrine that Englishmen hold sacred, which trampled under foot every principle of justice, humanity, and true government ? It is rather extraordinary that we should think it right to abuse republics at the very moment we are called upon to protect the republic of Holland. To spread the doctrine that kings only have divine right may indispose our allies to receive our proposed succour. They may not choose to receive into their country our admirals and generals, who being appointed by this king, in divine right, must partake of the same anger, and be sworn enemies to all forms of government not so sanctified. Surely, independent of the falsehood and the danger at home of such doctrines, it is the height of impolicy at this time to hold them, in regard even to our neighbours. "His Majesty, in the next passage of his speech/' continued Fox, "brings us to the apprehension of a war. I shall refrain at this time from saying all that occurs to me on this subject, because I wish to keep precisely to the immediate subject : but never surely had this country so much reason to wish for peace ; never was a period so little favourable to a rupture with France, or with any power. I am not ready to subscribe exactly to the propriety of a resolution never to go to war unless we are attacked ; but I wish that a motion was proposed by some person to express our disapprobation of entering upon any war, if we can by any honour- able means avoid it. Let no man be deterred by the dread of being in a minority. A minority saved this country from a war 378 CHARLES JAMES FOX. against Russia. And surely it is our duty, as it is true policy, to exert every means to avert that greatest of national calamities. In 1789 we all must remember that Spain provoked this country by an insult, which is a real aggression ; we were all agreed on the necessity of the case, but did we go headlong to war? No ! we determined with becoming fortitude on an armed negotiation. We did negotiate, and we avoided a war. But now we disdain to negotiate. Why ? Because we have no minister at Paris ! Why have we no minister there ? Because France is a republic ! And so we are to pay in the blood and treasure of the people for a punctilio ! If there are discontents in the kingdom, Sir, this is the way to inflame them. It is of no consequence to any people what is the form of government with which they may have to treat ; it is with the governors, whatever may be the form, that in common sense and policy they can have to do, and if they should change their form and change their governors, their course would remain the same. Having no legitimate concern with the internal state of any independent people, the road of common sense is simple and direct. That of pride and punctilio is as tangled as it is serpentine. Is the pretext the opening of the Scheldt ? I cannot believe that such an object can be the real cause. I doubt, even if a war on this pretext would be undertaken with the approbation of the Dutch. What was the conduct of the French themselves under their depraved old system, when the good of the people never entered into the contemplation of the Cabinet ? The Emperor threatened to open the Scheldt in 1786. Did the French go to war with him instantly, to prevent it ? No ! they opened a negotiation, and prevented it by interfering with their good offices. Why have not we so interfered ? Because, forsooth, France is an unanointed republic ! Oh ! miserable, infatuated Frenchmen ! Oh ! lame and inconsiderate politicians ! Why, instead of breaking the holy phial of Rheims, why did you not pour some of the sacred oil on the heads of your executive council, that the pride of states might not be forced to plunge themselves and you into the horrors of war, rather than be con- taminated by your acquaintance ! The people will not be cheated. They will look round and demand where the danger is to be seen. Is it in England ? They see it overflowing in expressions of loyalty, and yet they libel it with imputations of insurrection. In Ireland you know there is danger, and dare not own it ; though you know CHARLES JAMES FOX. 379 that there is a most respectable and formidable convention (I call it formidable, because I know nothing so formidable as reason, truth, and justice) will oblige you, by the most cogent reasons, to give way to demands which the magnanimity of the nation ought to have anticipated in justice to subjects as attached to their King, as abundantly endowed with every manly virtue, as those of any part of the United Kingdom. And while the claims of generous and ill-treated millions are thus protracted, there is a miserable mockery held out of alarms in England which have no existence, but which are made the pretext of assembling the Parliament in an extraordinary way, in order in reality to engage you in a foreign contest. What must be the fatal consequence when a well-judging people shall decide what I sincerely believe that the whole of this business is a ministerial manoeuvre? A noble Lord says, he will move for a suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. I hope not ! I have a high respect for the noble Lord ; but no motive of personal respect shall make me inattentive to my duty. Come from whom it may, I shall, with my most determined powers, oppose so dreadful a measure. What, it may be asked, would I propose to do in hours of agitation like the present ? I will answer openly. If there is a tendency in the dissenters to discontent, because they conceive themselves unjustly suspected and cruelly calumniated, what should I do ? I would instantly repeal the Test and Corporation Acts, and take from them thereby all cause of complaint. If there were any persons tinctured with a republican spirit, because they thought that the representative government was more perfect in a republic, I would endeavour to amend the representation of the Commons, and to prove that the House of Commons, though not chosen by all, should have no other interest than to prove itself the representa- tive of all. If there were men dissatisfied in Scotland, or Ireland, or elsewhere, on account of disabilities and exemptions, of unjust prejudices and of cruel restrictions, I would repeal the penal statutes, which are a disgrace to our law-book. If there were other complaints of grievances, I would redress them where they were really proved ; but, above all, 1 would constantly, cheerfully, patiently listen I would make it known, that if any man felt, or thought he felt, a grievance, he might come freely to the bar of this House and bring his proofs. And it should be made manifest to all the world, that where they did exist, they should be redressed; 380 CHARLES JAMES FOX. where they did not, they should be made manifest. If I were to issue a proclamation, this should be my proclamation ' If any man has a grievance, let him bring it to the bar of the Commons' House of Parliament, with the firm conviction of having it honestly investigated.' These are the subsidies that I would grant to government. What instead of this is done ? Suppress the complaint, check the circulation of knowledge, command no man shall read, or, that as no man under one hundred pounds a year can kill a partridge, so no man under twenty or thirty pounds a-year shall dare to read or think ! " I love the constitution as it is established," he continued ; " it has grown up with me as a prejudice and as a habit, as well as from conviction. I know it is calculated for the happiness of man, and that its constituent branches of King, Lords, and Commons could not be altered or impaired without entailing on this country the most dreadful miseries. It is the best adapted to England, because, as the noble Earl truly said, ' The people of England think it the best, and the safest course is to consult the judgment and gratify the predilections of a country.' Heartily convinced as I am, however, that to secure the peace, strength, and happiness of the country, we must maintain the constitution against all innovation, yet I do not think so highly and superstitiously of any human institution as to believe it is incapable of being perverted ; on the contrary, I believe that it requires an increasing vigilance on the part of the people to prevent the decay and dilapidations to which every edifice is subject. I think too that we may be laid asleep to our real danger by these perpetual alarms to loyalty, which, in my opinion, are daily sapping the constitution. Under the pretext of guarding it from assaults of republicans and levellers, we run the hazard of leaving it open on the other and more feeble side. We are led insensibly to the opposite danger, that of increasing the power of the Crown, and of degrading the influence of the House of Commons. Let us only look back to the whole course of the present administration, and we shall see that from their outset to the present day, it has been their invariable object to degrade the House of Commons in the eyes of the people, and to diminish its power and influence in every possible way. It was not merely in the outset of their career, when they stood up against the declared voice of the House of Commons, that this spirit was manifested, but uniformly, progressive^ through their CHARLES JAMES FOX. whole ministry, the same disposition has been shown, until at last it came to its full undisguised demonstration on the question of the Russian war, when the House of Commons was degraded to the lowest state of insignificance and contempt, in being made to retract its own words, and to acknowledge that it was of no con- sequence or avail what were its sentiments on any one measure. The minister has regularly acted upon this sort of principle, to the vilification of the popular branch of the constitution. What is this but to make it appear that the House of Commons is in reality what Thomas Paine, and writers like him, say it is, namely, that it is not the true representative and organ of the people. Is it not wonderful that all the true constitutional watchfulness of England should be dead to the only true danger that the day exhibits ; and that they should be roused only by the idiotic clamour of republican frenzy, and of popular insurrection, which do not exist ? " Sir/' he concluded, " I have done my duty. I have with the certainty of exposing myself to the furor of the day delivered my opinion at more length than I intended ; and perhaps I have intruded too long on the indulgence of the House. I have endeavoured to persuade you against the indecent haste of com- mitting yourselves to these assertions of an existing insurrection, until you shall make a rigorous inquiry where it is to be found ; to avoid involving the people in the calamity of a war, without at least ascertaining the internal state of the kingdom, and prevent us from falling into the disgrace of being, as heretofore, obliged perhaps in a week to retract every syllable that we are now called upon to say." From 1792 to 1797 Fox's efforts, first to prevent a war with France, and afterwards, when it had commenced, to bring it to a close, were unceasing. But the number of those who voted with him in Parliament was so small, and the sympathy that his efforts met with from the English public was so slight, that he at last grew weary of prolonging a hopeless opposition to the war policy of Pitt, and determined to discontinue his attendance in the House of Commons. He announced this intention in the debate on Mr. Grey's motion for Parliamentary Reform, on the 26th May, 1797, and, after taking part in that debate, he withdrew from London, and passed the greater part of the five following years in retirement at his house at St. Anne's Hill, near Chertsey. He there applied himself with ardour to literary pursuits. He pro- 382 CHARLES JAMKS F<>X. jected and partly wrote his " History of the Reign of James the Second ;" and it was at this period that his correspondence with Gilbert Wakefield took place, to which allusion has already been made. The correspondence was published some years after Fox's death, and there are some very judicious remarks on it in the "Museum Criticum," which do justice to the accuracy of Fox's scholarship, and the good sense and taste which he displayed. I will mention that one of the topics on which Fox requested Wakefield's opinion, was, as to the insertion or rejection of the final v at the end of the third persons singular of aorists, &c., when followed by a word beginning with a consonant, in the Greek plays. Superficial readers of Greek do not busy themselves upon such points. It is also pleasing to observe that Fox refused to concur with Wakefield in denying the unity of the Iliad. Mr. Trotter, who for many years acted as Mr. Fox's private secretary, has left a pleasing account of his mode of life at St. Anne's Hill : " I knew Mr. Fox," says Mr. Trotter, " at a period when his glories began to brighten, when a philosophical and noble deter- mination had, for a considerable time, induced him to renounce the captivating allurements and amusements of fashionable life, and when, resigning himself to rural pleasures, domestic retire- ment, and literary pursuits, he became a new man, or, rather more justly may I say, he returned to the solid enjoyment of a tranquil, yet refined, rural life, from which he had been awhile withdrawn, but had never been alienated." " The domestic life of Mr. Fox," he says, " was equally regular and agreeable. In summer, he arose betwixt six and seven ; in winter, before eight. The assi- duous care and excellent management of Mrs. Fox rendered his rural mansion the abode of peace, elegance, and order, and had long procured her the gratitude and esteem of those private friends whose visits to Mr. Fox, in his retirement at St. Anne's Hill, made them the witnesses of this amiable woman's exemplary conduct. I confess I carried with me some of the vulgar prejudices respect- ing this great man. How completely was I undeceived ! After breakfast, which took place betwixt eight and nine in the summer, and a little after nine in winter, he usually read some Italian author with Mrs. Fox, and then spent the time preceding dinner in his literary studies, in which the Greek poets bore a principal part. A frugal but plentiful dinner took place at three, or half- CHARLES JAMES FOX. 383 past two, in summer, and at four in winter, and a few glasses of wine were followed by coffee. The evening was dedicated to walk- ing and conversation till tea-time, when reading aloud in history commenced, and continued till near ten. A light supper of fruit, pastry, or something very trifling, finished the day ; and at half- past ten the family were gone to rest." Such was the simple life which Fox led during these years, which were probably the happiest of his existence ; and well would it have been for him if the more active portion of his career had been equally regular and blameless. On the peace of Amiens, Mr. and Mrs. Fox visited Paris, where Fox was treated with signal distinction by the First Consul. Scott relates an instance of Fox's plain common-sense mode of expressing himself, which occurred in conversation with Bona- parte. The First Consul was alluding to his own supposed personal danger in consequence of schemes for his assassination having been encouraged in England : ' ' Clear your head of all that nonsense ! " was Fox's short straightforward reply. He also, during this visit, nobly rebuked the stupid spirit of depreciation in which England is (like Ancient Greece) sometimes sneered at on account of the in- significance of its territorial dimensions. It is related in the recent historical work of Thiers, that when Fox was in Paris during the cessation of hostilities, as he was one day passing in company with the First Consul and his suite along an apartment of the Louvre, in which there was a terrestrial globe of extraordinary size and exactness, one of the followers of Bonaparte turned the globe round, and sarcastically remarked that England filled but a small space in the world. " Yes," replied Fox indignantly, " that island of the Englishmen is a small one. There they are born, and in that island their wish is to die. But," added he, advancing to the globe and stretching his arms round the two oceans and the two Indias, " but, while the Englishmen live, they fill the whole world, and clasp it in the circle of their power." On the renewal of the war Fox returned to his post in Parlia- ment, and joined in the opposition to the Addington ministry. He also continued to oppose the second war ministry of Pitt. On the death of Pitt, iu January, 180G, Fox united with Lord Gren- ville in forming a ministry, and became Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. But he was not destined long to outlive his illustrious rival, or to obtain the peace for England which he had 384 CHARLES JAMES FOX. so long and so fervently wished for. He, however, did much during this short interval to effect the Abolition of the Slave Trade, an object ever near his heart. But his health was failing fast, even at the commencement of his ministry; and on the 13th of Sep- tember, 1806, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, Charles James Fox expired. His secretary and friend has thus described the closing scenes of his life : " I read this evening to him," says Mr. Trotter, " the chief part of the fourth book of the ./Eneid. He appeared relieved, and to forget his uneasiness and pains; but I felt this recurrence to Virgil as a mournful omen of a great attack upon his system, and that he was already looking to abstract himself from noise, and tumult, and politics. Henceforth his illness rapidly increased, and was pronounced a dropsy. I have reason to think that he turned his thoughts very soon to retirement at St. Anne's Hill, as he found the pressure of business insupportably harassing." Mr. Trotter then notices various symptoms of melancholy foreboding which the dying statesman exhibited in the earlier part of his illness. " One of these," he observes, " I thought was shown in his manner at Holland-house. Mrs. Fox, he, and I drove there several times before his illness confined him, and when exercise was strongly urged. He looked around him the last day he was there with a farewell tenderness that struck me very much. It was the place where he had spent his youthful days. Every lawn, garden, tree, or walk was viewed by him with peculiar affection. He pointed out its beauties to me; and, in particular, showed me a green lane, or avenue, which his mother, the late Lady Holland, had made by shutting up a road. He was a very exquisite judge of the picturesque, and mentioned to me how beautiful this road had become, since converted into an alley. He raised his eyes in the house, looking round, and was earnest in pointing out every thing he liked and remembered. Soon, however, his illness alarmingly increased. He suffered dreadful pains, and often rose from dinner with intolerable suffering. His temper never changed, and was always serene and sweet ; it was amazing to behold so much dis- tressing anguish and so great equanimity." His last moments are thus narrated: "The scene which fol- lowed was worthy of the illustrious name of Fox. As his breath- ing became painfully difficult, he no longer spoke ; but his looks, CHARLES JAMES FOX. 385 his countenance, gradually assumed a sublime yet tender air. He seemed to regret leaving Mrs. Fox solitary and friendless; and, as he fixed his eyes repeatedly upon her, threw into them such an expression of consolation as looked supernatural : there was also in it a tender gratitude which breathed unutterable things, and, to the last, the disinterested and affectionate, the dying husband mourned for another's sufferings, and strove to make his own appear light. There was the pious resignation of the Christian, who fearlessly abandons his fleeting spirit to a merciful Deity visible throughout the day, the unbeliever who ' came to scoff must have remained to pray/ It was now that Mr. Fox gathered the fruits of his glorious life : his departure was unruffled by remorse, he had sacrificed every thing that was per- sonal to his country's good, and found his last moments blessed by the reflection, that his last effort had been conformable to the religion he professed, to give peace to an afflicted world. ' I die happy ! ' said he, fixing again and again his eyes upon Mrs. Fox. He expired betwixt five and six o'clock in the afternoon of the 13th of September, 1806." Fox was buried with great pomp in Westminster Abbey on the 10th of October, the anniversary of his first election for West- minster. His grave is within a few feet of that of Pitt. Sir Walter Scott's beautiful lines on this are well known : " The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. Di'op upon Fox's grave the tear, 'Twill trickle on his rival's bier ; O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry ' Here let their discord with them die.' Speak not for those a separate doom, Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb. But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like agen ? " In Parr's celebrated Preface to Bellcndenus the following defence is given against the censures which were so often, and with so much effect, urged against Fox's private life during his youth and early manhood : " Hi sunt eorum assidui et quotidian! sermones. ' Si qui volup- tatibus ducuntur, et se vitiorum illecebris dediderunt, missos faciant honores : ne attingant rempublicam.' " Quid igitur agam ? quippe magna respousi invidia subeunda c c 386 CHARLES JAMES FOX. est, neque mitigari possunt Icgentium aures. Veniam igitur petere non ausim perfugiis non utar juventutis aut temporum. Fatebor sane Foxium, cum in lubricas adolescentise vias ingrede- retur, stuperetque jam insolitis et insanis fulgoribus, tanto mentis robore non fuisse, ut ei aequalium studia, ludique, et convivia displicuerint. Erupisse in eo fatebor ilium impetum animi ardoremque, qui, sive ad literas humaniores, sive ad prudentiam civilem, sive ad luxuriam amoresque inclinaret, id unum ageret, id toto pectore arriperet, id universum hauriret. Fatebor a vera ilia et directa ratione non gradu eum aliquo, sed prsecipiti cursu descivisse ; ut patrimonium effuderit, ut fenore trucidatus sit, et naturale quoddam stirpis bonum degeneraverit vitio setatis. At hae delicise quse vocantur, etsi ad illas hseserit, nunquam eum occu- patum impeditumque tenuerunt diu. At facultate jam florens, et studiis eloquentise per intervalla flagrans, cum blandimentis hisce conjunxit plurimum dignitatis. At scelere semper caruit. At in luxum se prsecipitavit eum, qui a Tacito dicitur eruditus, item- que a Cicerone habetur homine ingenuo et libero dignior. At revocavit se identidem ad curam reipublicse. At Petronii instar, vigentem se ostendit, et negotiis parem; effecitque, perinde ac Mutianus, ut, in quo nimise essent, cum vacaret, voluptates, in eo, quoties expediret, magnse elucerent virtutes. At vixit, hodieque idem vivit, amicis carus. At dulcissimus illis semper occurrit, eo quod sequalitas et pares honorum gradus, et studiorum quasi finitima vicinitas, tantum absunt ab invidise obtrectatione, ut non modo non exulcerare eorum gratiam, sed conciliare videantur. At dignus est quern numeres inter multos et quidem bonos, qui, cum adolescentiam fere totam voluptatibus dedidissent, emerserint aliquando, probique homines et illustres exstiterint." I fear, however, that neither Parr nor any of the numerous able and attached friends whom Fox left behind him, ever could or ever can wholly wipe off this stain from his character; and an anonymous writer 6 on his career has truly and forcibly pointed out how much his power as a public man was marred by his want of private respectability. That writer truly points out that " by a law, as deep in human nature as any of its principles of distinction between good and evil, it is impossible to give respect or confidence to a man who habitually disregards some of the primary ordinances 6 Sec a paper on Fox in the Eclectic Review for 1808. It is quoted at length in Mr. Cunningham's Biography of Fox. It well deserves perusal. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 387 of morality. The nation never confided in our eloquent states- man's integrity : those who admired every thing in his talents, and much in his qualities, regretted that his name never ceased to excite in their minds the idea of gamesters and bacchanals, even after he was acknowledged to have withdrawn himself from such society. Those who held his opinions were almost sorry that he should have held them, while they saw with what malicious exulta- tion they who rejected them could cite his moral reputation, in place of argument to invalidate them. In describing this unfor- tunate effect of the character, we are simply asserting known matter of fact. There is not one advocate of the principles or of the man, who has not to confess what irksome and silencing rebuffs he has experienced in the form of reference to moral character : we have observed it continually for many years, in every part of England which we have frequented ; and we have seen practical and most palpable proof, that no man, even of the highest talents, can ever acquire, or at least retain, much influence on the public mind in the character of remonstrant and reformer, without the reality, or at any rate the invulnerable reputation, of virtue, in the comprehensive sense of the word, as comprising every kind of morality prescribed by the highest moral code acknowledged in a Christian nation. Public men and oppositionists may inveigh against abuses, and parade in patriotism, as long as they please ; they will find that even one manifest vice will preclude all public confidence in their principles, and therefore render futile the strongest exertions of talent. It has been said, that a man may maintain nice principles of integrity in the prosecution of public affairs, though his conscience and practice are very defective in matters of private morality. But this would never be believed, even if it were true : the universal conviction of mankind rejects it, when it is attempted, in practical cases, to be made the founda- tion of confidence. So far is this from being believed, that even a conspicuous and complete reformation of private morals, if it be but recent, is still an unsatisfactory security for public virtue ; and a very long probation of personal character is indispensable, as a kind of quarantine for a man once deeply contaminated to undergo, in order to engage any real confidence in the integrity of his public conduct ; nor can he ever engage it in the same degree, as if an uniform and resolute virtue had marked his private conduct from the beginning." cc2 388 CHARLES JAMES FOX. I have already drawn attention to the best excuse that can be made for Fox in this respect, namely, the evil example and the mischievous indulgence that he met with in his early years. "Nor let it," as Lord Brougham has justly observed on this subject in his sketch of Fox, " nor let it be forgotten, that the noble heart and sweet disposition of this great man passed unscathed through an ordeal which, in almost every other instance, is found to deaden all the kindly and generous affections. A life of gambling, and intrigue, and faction, left the nature of Charles Fox as little tainted with selfishness or falsehood, and his heart as little hardened, as if he had lived and died in a farm-house ; or rather as if he had not outlived his childish years." His Lordship here evidently alludes to Gibbon's beautiful expression respecting Fox : " I admired the powers of a superior man as they are blended, in his attractive character, with all the softness and simplicity of a child : no human being was ever more free from any taint of malignity, vanity, or falsehood." The speeches of Fox, as we possess them, do not contain full evidence of the high oratorical powers which we know, from external evidence, that he possessed. We must judge his eloquence by the effect which it produced on those who heard it, and not by that which it produces upon us who read it. Lord Brougham has well expressed the inaccuracy of Mackintosh, M-Jio termed Fox a Demosthenean speaker. His Lordship's critique on Fox's oratory, in his " Historical Sketches of Statesmen," is one of the ablest and most valuable portions of that very able and valuable work. I will only quote the passages in which, after having mentioned how negligent and uneven, and frequently slovenly and confused, Fox was in speaking, Lord Brougham tells us that " Mr. Fox's eloquence was of a kind which, to comprehend, you must have heard himself. When he got fairly into his subject, was heartily warmed with it, he poured forth words and periods of fire that smote you, and deprived you of all power to reflect and rescue yourself, while he went on to seize the faculties of the listener, and carry them captive along with him whitherso- ever he pleased to rush. ******* " Fox, as he went along and exposed absurdity, and made incon- sistent arguments clash, and laid bare shuffling or hypocrisy, and showered down upon meanness, or upon cruelty, or upon oppres- LORD NORTH. 389 sion, a pitiless storm of the most fierce invective, was ever forging also the long, and compacted, and massive chain of pure demonstration. 8' fdfT* aKfioOfTCfi fj.eyav &K(iova, ovs, a.\.vToi>s, 6:! MARQUIS COIJNWALUS. He served abroad during the last part of the seven years' war, as aid-de-camp to the Marquis of Granby. In conseqtience of his good conduct, he was soon after promoted to be Lieutenant-Colonel of the 12th regiment of foot, and on his return was appointed aid-de-camp to the King, which gave him the rank of Colonel in the line. Before this he had obtained a seat in the House of Com- mons for his patrimonial borough of Eye. On the death of his father, in 1762, he became an Earl of Great Britain. Three years after, he was appointed one of the Lords of the Bedchamber. In 1700 he received a regiment, the 33rd foot; on the 14th of July, 1708, he married Jemima, daughter of James Jones, Esq., by whom he had two children. It is recorded to his honour, that though a general supporter of the administration, he exercised an independent judgment, and voted against ministers on several important questions. More especially, he was opposed to the steps which led to the American war; but when his regiment was ordered abroad, in 1776, he de- clined to profit by the special leave of absence obtained from the King, and sailed with it, leaving a devotedly attached wife, who is said to have lost her life in consequence of her grief and anxiety at the separation. He served actively and with distinction, with the rank of major- general, under Generals Howe and Clinton, in the campaigns of 1776-77-78-79 in New York and the southern states, and in 1780 was left in the command of South Carolina, with one thousand men. The American General Gates, who had just compelled a large British force under Burgoyne to surrender at Saratoga, marched against Cornwallis, in the hope of surprising him, and obtaining a second triumph. But Lord Cornwallis, instead of waiting for Gates, advanced against him at Camden with an inferior force : after a sharp but ineffectual discharge of musketry, the English advanced with fixed bayonets, and broke and routed the enemy. The cap- ture of seven pieces of cannon, a multitude of baggage-waggons, and a thousand prisoners, served in some degree to compensate for the convention of Saratoga. The enemy having been thus driven out of the province, the victorious General was occupied during a considerable period in arranging its administration, and regulating the different departments, so as to render South Carolina once more a British colony. It was upon this occasion that he first developed MAIIQUIS CORNWALLIS. 403 those powers for the management of civil affairs which afterwards constituted so conspicuous a feature in his character. Congress having recalled General Gates, General Greene was despatched with a view of restoring the province to the dominion of the United States. He advanced with a formidable body of troops; but Cornwallis met and beat him in a decisive engagement at Guildford Court-house. The British commander, flattered by this new success, now determined to act on the offensive. He accordingly took the necessary measures on purpose to form a junction with Arnold, who had declared for the English, and had become one of the most formidable partisans with whom America had now to contend. But the French auxiliaries of the Americans, against whom Cornwallis moved, retreated and escaped his attack. He received a series of embarrassing and inconsistent orders from Sir H. Clinton; and as the enemy's forces were closing round him, he finally moved to York Town, on York River, where he entrenched himself in the strongest way he could. He was there besieged by the French and American forces, assisted by the French fleet under De Grasse, and reduced to surrender himself and his troops prisoners of war, after an obstinate defence, October 19th, 1781. Full justice was done to Cornwallis's good conduct and bravery by the English Court and public ; and on his return to England he was appointed Constable of the Tower. In 1 78G he was made Commander-in-Chief, and Governor-General of Bengal. The possessions of the East India Company were at that time menaced by a formidable confederacy of the native powers, and were also believed to be suffering greatly through the misconduct and incapacity of the Company's servants. In this emergency it was determined by the government, if possible, to select a chief, who, to military talents, added a knowledge of business, an unim- peachable integrity, and an imperturbable firmness of conduct. It was on this occasion that the eyes of all men were turned on Lord Cornwallis; and his Lordship's appointment M r as hailed with general satisfaction, both in India and at home. On his arrival in India he applied himself to measures of reform, with an earnestness and integrity that were admitted, even by those who doubted the policy of many of his measures. AY Inli- ne was thus engaged, Tippoo Saib, the Sultan of Mysore, son of our old formidable enemy Hyder Ali, commenced hostilities, by i> '2 404 MAlfQUIS CORNWALLIS. attacking one of our allies. In the war that ensued, our arms were at first unsuccessful, till Lord Cornwallis took the field him- self. He determined on relieving our dominions, and those of our allies, from the attacks of Tippoo, by carrying the war into the heart of the enemy's country. For this purpose he made a bold and unexpected movement ; he penetrated through one of the mountain-passes into Mysore, and took by storm Bungalow, one of Tippoo's most important fortresses, in March, 1791. In the follow- ing February he laid siege to Tippoo's capital city, Seringapatam ; and the Sultan, in order to avert its capture, was obliged to sub- mit to make peace on the terms of ceding half his dominions to the English and their allies, paying a large treasure, and delivering up two of his sons as hostages for the observance of the treaty. On his return to England, in 1793, he was created a Marquis, and made Master-General of the Ordnance, which gave him a seat in the Cabinet. In 1798, when the Irish rebellion was raging, he was made Lord -Lieutenant of Ireland. His humanity and his skill in civil government did more than even his military talents to restore order. He immediately sent a message to the Irish House of Commons, by which he informed them that he had " his Majesty's orders to acquaint them, that he had signified his gracious intention of granting a general pardon for all offences committed previously to a certain time, upon such conditions, and with such exceptions, as might be compatible with the public safety :" and it was properly added, " that these offers of mercy were not to preclude measures of vigour against the obstinate." Many of the insurgents surrendered and made their peace with the government ; those who remained in arms were defeated and quelled; and Lord Cornwallis compelled a small body of French auxiliaries, under General Humbert, who had landed near Castlebar and beaten some of our forces in that town, to surrender to the army which he himself led against them. He put down the rebellion ; and he also checked the disgraceful outrages practised by the supporters of government, restored tranquillity, and acquired the good- will of the Irish. In 1801 he was succeeded by Lord Hardwicke ; and in the same year, being appointed pleni- potentiary to France, he negotiated the peace of Amiens. In 1805 he was a second time appointed Governor-General of India : but he was now old, and infirm in health. He was ill MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 405 when he landed at Calcutta ; but after having remained there for a short time, during which he busied himself in introducing several economical reforms into the civil department, he endeavoured to put himself at the head of the army which was engaged in active operations in the upper provinces. But the old warrior's frame failed him : he in vain attempted to perform the journey by slow and short stages, and died on the 5th of October, 1805, at Ghazepore, in Benares, before he was able to reach the head- quarters. Napoleon, in his conversations with Barry O'Meara, at St. Helena, bore remarkable testimony to the probity and dignity of this brave man's character, and stated that Lord Cornwallis, by his integrity, fidelity, frankness, and the nobleness of his sentiments, was the first who had impressed upon him a favourable opinion of Englishmen. " I do not believe/' said the ex-Emperor, " that he was a man of first-rate abilities ; but he had talent, great probity, sincerity, and never broke his word." Something having pre- vented him from attending at the Hotel de Dieu to sign the treaty of Amiens, pursuant to appointment, he sent word to the French ministers that they might consider it completed, and that he would certainly execute it next morning. During the night he received instructions to object to some of the articles ; disregarding which* he signed the treaty as it stood, observing that his government, if dissatisfied, might refuse to ratify it ; but that having once pledged his word, he felt bound to abide by it. "There was a man of honour!" added Napoleon; "a true Englishman!" (Cunning- ham's Biography. TJiornton's India, fyc.} MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. AMONG the numerous sons of Eton, there are very few who have done her more honour, and there is no one that has borne towards her deeper love, than Richard Marquis Wellesley, successively Governor-General and Captain-General of India, British Ambas- sador in Spain, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and Lord- Lieutenant of Ireland. His earliest distinctions were obtained at Eton, and his principal biographer truly says, that " Lord Wellesley was deeply attached throughout his long life to Eton. Some of the latest productions 406 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. of his Lordship's pen wore dedicated to his beloved Eton ; and, in testimony of the strong affection which he entertained towards the place where he received his first impressions of literary taste, and in accordance with his desire expressed before his death, his body was deposited in a vault of Eton Chapel." 1 The Wellesley family, which two Etonians, its great Marquis and its greater Duke, have made one of unrivalled splendour, is of great, ancient dignity. " In a manuscript pedigree among the papers of the late Marquis Wellesley, which appears to be an authenticated copy from Irish genealogies in MS. in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, the Wellesley family is traced as high as the year A. D. 1239, to Michael De Wellesleigh, the father of Wallerand De Wellesleigh, who was killed, together with Sir Robert De Percival, (one of the Egmont family,) on the 22nd of October, 1303. It is stated by Playfair that the family is of Saxon origin, deriving its name from the manor of Wellesley, anciently Welles-leigh, in the county of Somerset, which was held under the Bishops of Bath and Wells, and to which the family removed from Sussex soon after the Norman invasion. In the reign of Henry the First a grant of the grand serjeantry of all the country east of the river Ferret, as far as Bristol Bridge, including the manor of Wellesleigh in the hundred of Wells, was made to one Avenant De Wellesleghe, whose descendant, according to some authorities, upon the embark- ation of King Henry the Second for Ireland, accompanied that monarch in the capacity of standard-bearer." 2 In England the line was continued for seven generations from Avenant De Wellesleghe, and then became extinct. In the Irish branch, the De Wellesleighs (or De Wellesleys) continue to figure as knights and barons bold. In 1485 the " De " was dropped from the name, which thenceforth was written simply " Wellesley," as at present. By various intermarriages the three families of Cowley, Cusack, and Wellesley were united ; and as the Cusacks trace their lineage by heirs female up to Dermot Macmorough, King of Leinster, and also to Roderick O'Connor, the 103rd and last monarch of all Ireland, our Celtic fellow-subjects are unjust to themselves, when they revile the great Duke and his brethren as unmitigated Saxons. 1 IVarce's Memoirs of Marquis \\Yllcsley, vol. i. p. 17. 1 Pearcc, p. '2. MAlfQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 407 Richard Colley Wellesley was born on the 20th of June, 1760, at Dengan Castle, in the county of Meath. His father (who was and is highly celebrated as a musical composer) had been raised to the Irish peerage by the title of Lord Mornington. Lord Wellesley was placed at Eton at an early age, and was there distinguished as a scholar beyond all his contemporaries. Lord Brougham, in his memoir of him, states, " When Dr. Goodall, his contemporary, and afterwards head-master, was examined in 1818 before the Educa- tion Committee of the House of Commons respecting the alleged passing over of Person in giving promotions to King's College, he at once declared that the celebrated Grecian was not by any means at the head of the Etonians of his clay ; and on being asked by me (as chairman) to name his superior, he at once said, Lord Wellesley. Some of the committee would have had this struck out of the evi- dence, as not bearing upon the subject of the inquiry, the Abuse of Charities ; but the general voice was immediately pronounced in favour of retaining it, as a small tribute of respect to Lord Wellesley, and I know that he highly valued this tribute." Some of the most beautiful sets of verses in the " Musse Eto- nenses " are Lord Wellesley's ; and there is, in particular, one copy which need fear competition with few poems in the Latin language. AD GENIUM LOCI. O levis Fauni et Dryadum sodalis, t'inium tutela vigil meorum ! Qui meos colles et aprica luctus Prata neinusque Mobili lustras pede, nunc susurros Arlioruni captans, modo uiurniurautis Fluiuiiiis sorvaiis vitreos reducta in Valle meatiis ! Die ubi attollat nielius superbum Verticcm pinus ? rigidosque quercus [mplicana ramos uiniis aestuosam Leiiiat hunini '. Nainque Tu saltu tibi dustiiiato K \cubas custos operosus, almse FertOem silvoj sterilemque doctus Nosccre terrain : Dum nialuin noctis picete tenello Leuiter vcrris folio vaporem, et Si-dulus virgulta foves, futurtu 1'rovidus luiibni-. 408 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. Lauream sed campus Apollinarem Parturit myrtosque vigentiores ; Omnis et te luxuriat renascens Auspice tellus : Te, ros;l pulchrum caput impedita, Candidi conjux facilis Favoni Ambit, ut vernos tuearis sequo Numine flores. Laetus ! faustusque adeas, precamur, Nil mei prosunt sine te labores, Nil valet, cultum nisi tu secundes, Rustica cura. Dr. Davies was tutor to Lord Wellesley at Eton, and in a note written in 1840, the Marquis thus describes him : " Dr. Jonathan Davies, Head Master, and afterwards Provost of Eton, who had been tutor to Lord Wellesley when first he entered Eton School, at the age of eleven years, and who always bestowed the solicitude and affection of a kind parent on the education of Lord Wellesley '' After leaving Eton, Lord Wellesley went to Christ Church, Oxford, where he attracted great notice and praise; but in 1781, before the time came for his taking his degree, he was called away to Ireland in consequence of the death of his father. He volun- tarily took upon himself the payment of his father's debts, and directed great attention to the education of his younger brothers, over whom he watched most carefully during the early part of their lives. When his father died, Lord Wellesley was within a month of the age of twenty-one ; William Wellesley Pole, afterwards Lord Maryborough, was eighteen ; Arthur Wellesley, afterwards the Duke of Wellington, was twelve; Gerald Varelian, afterwards Dr. Wellesley, was ten; and Henry, afterwards Lord Cowley, was eight years old. Lord Brougham says of the commencement of Lord Wellesley's public life : " In the Lords' House of the Irish Parliament Lord Welles- ley (then Lord Morniugton) first showed those great powers, which a more assiduous devotion to the rhetorical art would certainly have ripened into an orator}' of the highest order ; for he was thoroughly imbued with the eloquence of ancient Greece and Rome, his pure taste greatly preferring, of course, the former. The object of his study, however, had been principally the four great orations (on the Crown and the Embassy); and I wondered to MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 409 find him in his latter years so completely master of all the passages in these perfect models, and this before the year 1839, when he began again to read over more than once the Homeric poems and the orations of Demosthenes. I spent much time with him in examin- ing and comparing the various parts of those divine works, in extricating their relative excellence, and in discussing the con- nexion of the great passages and of the argument with the plan of each oration. But I recollect also being surprised to find that he had so much neglected the lesser orations ; and that, dazzled as it were with the work, which is, no doubt, incomparably superior to all others as a whole, he not only for some time would not allow his full share of praise to ^Eschines, whose oration against Ctesi- phon is truly magnificent, all but the end of the peroration, and whose oration on the Embassy excels that of his illustrious rival, but that he really never opened his eyes to the extraordinary beauties of the Philippics, without fully studying which I conceive no one can have an adequate idea of the perfection of Demo- sthenean eloquence, there being some passages of fierce and indignant invective more terrible in those speeches than any that are to be found in Ctesiphon itself. Of this opinion was Lord Wellesley himself ultimately ; and I believe he derived fully more pleasure of late years, than he had ever done before, from his read- ings of those grand productions." Lord Wellesley in the Irish Parliament generally supported the measures then advocated by Mr. Grattan, but he was by no means an indiscriminating opponent of the government. In 1784 he sought and obtained a seat in the English House of Commons ; and he now displayed his abilities on an ampler and more con- spicuous field. He was soon connected with Mr. Pitt, both by private friendship and similarity in political opinion ; and in 1786 he received the appointment of one of the Lords of the Treasury. While he thus became a member of the government, and, as such, took frequent part in the debates in the English House of Com- mons, he occasionally returned to Ireland when any important discussion in the Irish House of Peers was anticipated. In parti- cular he spoke there earnestly, though unsuccessfully, against the address which both the Irish Houses voted to the Prince of Wales on the Regency question, calling on him to assume the Regency of Ireland as a matter of right with unlimited powers ; the English Parliament having granted him the Regency over England as a 410 .MAK<>riS OF WELLESLEY. matter of discretion, not of right, and having imposed many limitations on his power. On the breaking out of the French Revolution, Lord Wellesley was among those who were most inimical to its authors and its principles. He supported the war which we entered into with the French Republic; and one of his most celebrated speeches was made in January 1794, in which, in opposition to Sheridan, ho maintained the justice, the policy, and the necessity of persevering in hostilities. In this speech Lord Wellesley reviewed the whole French Revolution ; he exhibited its progress ; he traced the Revolutionary government step by step, holding up to reproba- tion all the atrocities, blasphemies, violence, perfidy, and cruelty that were enacted in France ; pointing out the spirit of aggression and wanton violation of the laws of nations that animated the French, and urging upon the Parliament, by every consideration that could be supposed to influence Englishmen, to support the Crown in carrying on with becoming energy this just and neces- sary war. His peroration, which has been greatly praised by high authorities, was as follows : "Thus, Sir, I have endeavoured to prove that the original justice and necessity of this war have been strongly confirmed by subse- quent events; that the general result of the last campaign, both upon our own situation and upon that of the enemy, affords a reasonable expectation of ultimate success ; and that not only the characters, the interests, and the dispositions of those who now exercise the powers of government in France, but the very nature of that system which they have established, render a treaty of peace upon safe or honourable terms impracticable in the present moment, and consequently require a vigorous and unremitting prosecution of the war. Hitherto I have addressed my arguments to the whole House; in what I shall now urge, I must declare that I do not mean to address myself to those few among us who did not share the common sentiment of the House and of the public in that period of general alarm which immediately preceded this war. But I appeal to those who, previous to the commence- ment of the war, felt, in common with the great body of the people, a well-grounded apprehension for the safety of our happy constitution and the general interests of civil society. Do they now feel the same degree of anxiety ? Even in the midst of hostilities, in the very heat of the contest, and after a campaign MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 411 which, although greatly successful in its general results, has neither been exempt from difficulty, nor from the ordinary vicissi- tudes of a state of war, do they not now feel in their own breasts, and perceive in the public mind, such a degree of confidence in the security of all that can be dear and valuable to British subjects, as they would have gladly purchased before the war, even by surrendering a part of those interests, the whole of which was menaced in that gloomy period of general consternation? What change of circumstances, what happy combination has calmed the anxiety and revived the depressed spirits of the nation ? Is it the decree of counter-fraternity, declaring that France will no longer interfere in the internal affairs of independent states, but reserving to her the sovereignty of all those countries which were overrun by her arms in the first career of her inordinate ambition ? Is it the reply of Robespierre to the manifestoes of all the Princes of Europe, in which he pronounces kings to be the master-piece of human corruption, in which he libels every monarch in Europe, but protests that France has no intention to disturb monarchy, if the subjects of kings are still weak enough to submit to such an institution ? Is it the murder of Brissot and his associates ? Is it the disgrace and imprisonment of Anacharsis Clootz, the author of the Revolutionary Diplomatics, or of Thomas Paine, the author of the Rights of Man ? Is it any profession, assurance, or act of the Revolutionary government of France ? You all know it is not. The confidence of a wise people could never be rested on such weak and unsubstantial foundations. The real cause of our present sense of security is to be found in our own exertions combined with those of our allies. By those exer- tions we were enabled to withstand and repel the first assault of the arms and the principles of France ; and the continuance of the same effort now forms our only barrier against the return of the same danger. Who then shall venture to persuade you to cast away the defence which has afforded you protection against all the objects of your former apprehension, to subvert the founda- tions of your present confidence, and to resort, for your future safety, to the inconsistent decrees, to the contradictory declara- tions, and to the vague assurances of a guilty, desperate, and dis- tracted faction, which offers no possible ground of security either in the principles of its policy or in the stability of its power ? All the circumstances of your situation are now before you. You are 412 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. now to make your option, You are now to decide whether it best becomes the dignity, the wisdom, and the spirit of a great nation, to rely for existence on the arbitrary will of a restless and impla- cable enemy, or on her own sword : you are now to decide, whether you will entrust to the valour and skill of British fleets and British armies, to the approved faith and united strength of your numerous and powerful allies, the defence of the limited monarchy of these realms, of the constitution of Parliament, of all the established ranks and orders of society among us, of the sacred rights of pro- perty, and of the whole frame of our laws, our liberty, and our religion ; or whether you will deliver over the guardianship of all these blessings to the justice of Cambon, the plunderer of the Netherlands, who, to sustain the baseless fabric of his depreciated assignats, defrauds whole nations of their rights of property, and mortgages the aggregate wealth of Europe ; to the moderation of Danton, who first promulgated that unknown law of nature, which ordains that the Alps, the Pyrenees, the Ocean, and the Rhine should be the only boundaries of the French dominion ; to the religion of Robespierre, whose practice of piety is to murder his own Sovereign ; who exhorts all mankind to embrace the same faith, and to assassinate their kings for the honour of God; to the friendship of Barrere, who avows in the face of all Europe, that the fundamental article of the Revolutionary government of France is the ruin and annihilation of the British empire: or, finally, to whatever may be the accidental caprice of any new band of malefactors, who, in the last convulsions of their exhausted country, may be destined to drag the present tyrants to their own scaffolds, to seize their lawless power, to emulate the depravity of their example, and to rival the enormity of their crimes ! " Some Latin hexameters, written by Lord Wellesley, at Mr. Pitt's request, in 1797, at a time when the arms of the French Republic were threatening the continental monarchies with destruction, most forcibly and most elegantly express the sentiments with which Lord Wellesley and most of the upper classes in England then regarded France. These verses, which were composed early in 1797, were published in the " Anti- Jacobin," after Lord Wellesley's departure for India, with a very beautiful translation by the then Lord Morpeth : Ipsa mail Hortatrix scelerumque uberrima Mater In sc priina suos vertit lyinphata furores, MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 413 Luctaturque diu secum, et conatibus aegris Fessa cadit, proprioque jacet labefacta veneno. Mox tamen ipsius rursum violentia morbi Erigit ardentem f'uriis, ultroque minantem Spargere bella procul, vasteeque incendia cladis, Civilesque agitare faces, totumque per orbem Sceptra super regum et populorum subdita colla Ferre pedem, et sanctas regnorum evertere sedes. Aspicis ! Ipsa sui bacchatur sanguine Regis, Barbaraque ostentans feralis signa triumphi, Mole gigantea campis prorumpit apertis, Successu scelerum, atque insanis viribus audax. At qua Pestis atrox rapido se turbine vertit, Cernis ibi, prisca morum compage soluta, Procubuisse solo civilis focdera vitee, Et quodcunque Fides, quodcunque habet alma verendi Religio, Pietasque et Legum frsena sacrarum. Nee spes Pacis adhuc necdum exsaturata rapinis Effera Bellatrix, fusove expleta cruore. Crescit inextinctus Furor ; atque exsestuat ingens Ambitio, immanisque ira Vindicta renata Relliquias Soliorum et adhuc restantia regna Flagitat excidio, prsedseque incumbit opimse. Una etenim in mediis Gens intemerata minis Libertate proba, et jxisto libramine rerum, Securum faustis degit sub legibus aevum ; Antiquosque colit mores, et jura parentum Ordine firma suo, sanoque intacta vigore, Servat adhuc hominumque fidem, curamque deorum. Eheu ! quanta odiis avidoque alimenta furori ! Quanta profanatas inter spoliabitur aras Victima ! si quando versis Victoria fatis Annuerit scelus extremum, terraque subacta Impius Oceani sceptrum foedaverit Hostis ! Lord Wellesley was appointed Governor-General of India on the 4th of October, 1797 ; and having been raised to the dignity of a peer of Great Britain, with the title of Baron Wellesley, Earl of Mornington in the peerage of Ireland, sailed from England on the 7th of November following. Mr. Pearce remarks, that " it has been asserted by Mr. Mill, that his Lordship 'had possessed but little time for acquainting himself with the complicated affairs of India, when all his attention was attracted to a particular point.' But little time for acquainting himself ! No assertion could pos- sibly have been more groundless. Lord Wellesley had been an active and indefatigable member of the Board of Control from 1794 to the time of his being sworn as Go vernor- General ; he had acquired a thorough knowledge of all the details of the Indian government, under the able direction of Mr. Dundas (afterwards 11 I MAUQUIS OF Lord Melville). Every document connected with our Indian empire during that eventful period must have come under his observation; he was on terms of intimacy with Marquis Corn- wallis ; and, as a member of the government in 1793, had neces- sarily acquainted himself with the whole case of India, so fre- quently discussed on the renewal of the Company's charter in that year. It is quite obvious that Lord Wellesley possessed unusual facilities for gaining an intimate knowledge of the empire that it was his destiny to rule over ; and it was owing to the rare combination of talents of the first order with thorough information as to the condition of India, that Mr. Pitt and his colleagues reposed such entire confidence in his Lordship." The position of affairs in India required at that time the decisive authority of a first-rate mind to rectify them ; and to preserve and consolidate our Indian empire, already of vast mag- nitude, though far less than what it has now grown to. The Marquis of Wellesley' s despatches which have been published, are a storehouse of valuable information respecting his eventful adminis- tration in the East : and Lord Brougham's memoir of his friend contains a masterly account of the state of India at the time when Lord Wellesley was appointed to the governorship, and a clear statement of the policy which he pursued. Lord Brougham also informs us that he had the advantage of drawing up and correcting his narrative of Lord Wellesley's Indian career from the most authentic of all sources from the information given him by the Marquis himself, who frequently " examined the views which Lord Brougham had taken on the subject, and declared that they correctly represented his proceedings and his policy." I can here only epitomise Lord Brougham's account, but the original well deserves to be carefully studied. The war in which Lord Cornwallis had been engaged against Tippoo Saib, had humbled that adventurous prince for a time, and had shorn away much of his power. But he still was formidably strong; and a burning desire to wipe off the ignominy which he had sustained, excited to the fiercest intensity the hatred which this Hannibal of Hindostan had inherited from his father, the great Hyder, against England, and which led him to seek allies in every quarter for a renewal of the struggle against us. His territory which he retained was situate between two of our settlements, and gave him admirable opportunities for striking a blow against either. MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 415 It abounded in strong places ; its interior was difficult of access to an enemy, and his capital, naturally strong, had been fortified with the utmost care, and with the skill of the best European engineers. Ilis treasures were immense. His army was large and well appointed. He had been experienced in warfare against Europeans from his boyhood, and, though latterly unsuccessful, had more than once defeated English generals. He had a right to trust, and he did trust, to his own high military talents, and the influence which he possessed over the Mahommedan population of India. He had opened a communication with the French government at the Mauritius, and French officers and engineers had flocked eagerly to his service. Other native princes employed troops officered by Frenchmen, especially one our principal ally the Nizam of Hyder- abad. Tippoo reckoned with justice on finding confederates and recruits among all these whenever he renewed the war with England. Lord Wellesley's first purpose was to break up this hostile force of our ally the Nizam, which was 14,000 strong, and commanded by M. Raymond ; and he resolved, " in his own words," " never to use any high language towards Tippoo, nor ever to attempt to deny him any of his just rights ; but also, on having distinct proof of his machinations against us, to let him know that his treachery does not escape observation, and to make him feel that he is within the reach of our vigilance/' By judicious negotiation with the Nizam his consent to the reduction of M. Raymond's force was obtained, and by some well- timed decisive measures, the force itself was disarmed and dissolved without bloodshed, and its commander and the other French officers sent back to Europe. By selecting for high and confi- dential employment the best among the many able men in the Company's service, Lord Wellcsley formed a diplomatic staff, \\hrn he despatched agents to the various native courts, who with admirable skill and sagacity kept our wavering allies safe in their fidelity towards the English, and prevented several neutral princes from sending to Tippoo the assistance which he had expected. Lord Wellesley played them off one against another, and secured our own frontiers from attack, while he concentrated the greater part of our military force so as to be able to act with celerity and effect against Tippoo, as soon as the war broke out, which was evidently fast gathering. 416 .MAKQU1S OP WELLESLEY. Tippoo's negotiation with the French governor of the Mauritius, which Lord Wellesley intercepted, and many other similar discove- ries, made the hostile intentions of the Sultan of Mysore not a matter of expectation, but of certainty. And on the landing of the French in Egypt, it was clear to Lord Wellesley that Tippoo and Bonaparte would communicate together, and that the attempt would be made to aid Tippoo by a French force sent from the Red Sea, even if the French general did not attempt the bold project of following Alexander's line of march from the Nile to the Euphrates, and from the Euphrates to the Indus. Lord Wellesley judged rightly that such negotiation between our two great enemies was going forward ; for on the capture of Seringa- patam a letter to Tippoo from Bonaparte was discovered, with other documents, which left no doubt of the co-operation which was designed against us. Tippoo professed to our Indian government complete innocence and utter ignorance of any schemes against us, and endeavoured to blind Lord Wellesley and gain time for the arrival of his French friends. But Lord Wellesley saw the necessity of striking at once, and of having to strike but once. He firmly, though temperately, put down the insubordinate spirit of the sub- government at Madras, which trembled at a war with Tippoo. Lord Wellesley now formally apprised Tippoo that he was aware of his machina- tions against the English, as carried on in the Mauritius and else- where, and desired him to receive an ambassador for the purpose of arranging such measures as should secure the English and their allies from his hostility. Tippoo endeavoured to put off Lord Wellesley by protestations and promises, in hopes to delay the march of our troops till the setting-in of the rainy season, when military operations would become almost impracticable. Meanwhile he employed every minute in increasing his own army, and placing it on a footing for active war. But Lord Wellesley, on the 9th of January, 1799, named a day certain for his admission of our ambassador, and required an immediate reply to that demand. Tippoo delayed his answer, but Lord Wellesley delayed no longer. On the 3rd of February the order was given for our troops to march upon Seringapatam, and take Tippoo's capital forthwith. General Harris, advancing from Madras, entered Mysore at the head of the best-appointed army that had yet been equipped in India, and the Bombay army penetrated the enemy's territory on the opposite side. .MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 417 Each army fought and won a battle on its way. They effected their juncture before Seriugapatara : within a month that strong city was stormed and taken; Tippoo had fallen fighting desperately in its defence ; and the state of Mysore, long our formidable enemy, became a British dependency. Lord Wellesley' s Indian government was also signalised by the victories which our troops gained in the Mahratta war ; and it is ever to be remembered that in these Indian campaigns the military genius of the " Great Duke " was first developed. Colonel Arthur Wellesley in saving India trained himself to save Europe. Lord Wellesley had the discernment to appreciate his brother's remarkable abilities, and he had the firmness to employ them, without heeding the cry about partiality that was certain to be raised. In a letter to General Harris, dated July 7th, 1800, he says : " With respect to the language which you say people have held of my brother's appointment to Seringapatam, you know that I never recommended my brother to you, and of course never sug- gested how or where he should be employed ; and I believe you know also that you would not have pleased me by placing him in any situation in which his appointment could be injurious to the public service. My opinion, or rather knowledge and experience, of his discretion, judgment, temper, and integrity are such, that if you had not placed him in Seringapatam, I would have done so of my own authority, because 1 think him, in every respect, the most jii'ojier for the service" Mr. Pearce remarks, that " the principle on which Lord Wellesley acted all through his administration towards his illustrious brother, is expressed in the following paragraph : ' Great jealousy will arise among the officers in consequence of my employing you ; but I employ you because I rely on your good sense, discretion, activity, and spirit; and I cannot find all those qualities united in any other officer in India who could take such a command."' (Lord Ife/lcft/ci/ to Colonel A. H't'/lcafcy, 1st of December, 1800, respecting the Isle of France Expeditinn.} Lord Wellesley was frequently left in India for long periods of time (for seven months together in the year 1800) without receiving any authentic intelligence from England. Nothing shows his genius more strongly than the intuitive sagacity with which, as he heard of each great event in Europe, he altered and modified his 418 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. own arrangements, and was ready by anticipation to execute any orders that might come to him from the home government. He early perceived the probability of our making an attempt to dislodge the French from Egypt, and foresaw his opportunity for co-operating with an expedition for that purpose by sending troops from India up the Red Sea. In the very first letter in which Lord Wellesley announced to the Right Hon. Henry Dundas the fact of the capture of Seringa- patam, (dated Fort George, 16th May, 1799,) he suggested this : " If the French should be established in Egypt, it might be advisable," observes Lord Wellesley, " to consider whether an expedition might not be fitted out from India, to co-operate by way of the Red Sea, with any attempt which might be undertaken from the Mediterranean. / cannot venture to prepare any such expedition without orders from England ; but if I should receive them, you may be assured that they will be executed with alacrity and diligence, not only by me, but by the whole army of India." " For the space of nearly two years," says his biographer, " Lord Wellesley anxiously waited for those orders, and was left in a state of doubt and uncertainty as to the intentions of the home government. His Lordship was not, however, an idle spectator of the operations of the French in Egypt. In the month of February, 1801, Mr. Duncan, the Governor of Bombay, who upon every occasion afforded Lord Wellesley the most valuable and cordial co-operation in carrying out his Lordship's plans, despatched a military force from his presidency to co-operate with Rear-Admiral Blankett, in rendering the position of the French on the Egyptian coast uneasy." When at length the long-wished-for despatch from Europe arrived, announcing that General Abercrombie was to lead an army from England to dislodge Menou from Egypt, the auxiliary force from India was promptly equipped and embarked. This army consisting of seven thousand men, of whom two thousand were Sepoys, was landed at Cosseir, and marched across the Desert to Thebes. Thence their commander, General Baird, led them to Grand Cairo, and finally to Rosetta, on the shores of the Mediter- ranean Sea. Menou, who had already been repeatedly defeated by the English army in Europe, and was now shut up in Alexandria, on hearing of this reinforcement to the British, determined to abandon Egypt ; and a convention was concluded between him and MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 419 the English commanders, in consequence of which Egypt was completely delivered from the French. When the intelligence of the Peace of Amiens was brought out to India, Lord Wellesley' s sagacity and moral courage were put to a severe test, such as the nerve of few other men would have encountered successfully. By the terms of that treaty the French were to be re-instated in all their possessions in India, which they had held and used as the means for striving to overthrow our empire in the East : the Mauritius was to continue a French colony, and the Cape of Good Hope was to be given up to the Batavian Republic. First, Lord Wellesley was informed that preliminaries of peace embodying these terms had been agreed on, and that he was to hold himself in readiness to see those terms carried into effect ; then, by a most secret communication, he was warned that the negotiations at Amiens were likely to be inter- rupted, and that he was to use the utmost precautions, so as to be ready for the resumption of hostilities ; next came both a public and a confidential despatch, directing him to give up the conquered places to the French; then another private letter, warning him that a French squadron had sailed for India, and that a delay in the restitution of the French possessions was necessary ; and lastly came an order, dated 18th November, 1802, stating that, notwith- standing what had been contained in the preceding communica- tions, his Majesty commanded the immediate execution of the instructions forwarded for the restitution of the French posses- sions, and urging upon the Governor-General the necessity of conciliation. Lord Wellesley saw the ruinous consequences that would follow if he obeyed these final orders, and he took on himself the for- midable responsibility of disobeying them ; and when the French squadron arrived at Pondicherry and claimed that place, Lord Wellesley ordered the English commander not to give it up, and declared his intention of holding the possession of the conquered French settlements until he was enabled to communicate with the home government. His anticipations of the renewal of the war in Europe proved correct, and in a few months he received a series of anxious despatches from Europe, (dated in May, 1803,) informing him of the war being resumed in Europe, imploring him to provide for the safety of India, and urging upon his Lordship the duty of EE2 420 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. re- capturing from the enemy " any forts or possessions which the French may have in India." Thanks to the Governor- General, however, there were no French forts in India to re-capture ! 3 Notwithstanding the brilliancy and success of Lord Wellesley's Indian administration, he encountered heavy displeasure and sore discouragement from the Board of Directors at home. They accused him of having, in many cases, daringly overstepped the bounds of his authority, and took especial offence at his under- taking, without their sanction, to found a university at Calcutta. Whether Lord Wellesley observed the limit of his power in this matter or not, it is certain that the spirit in which he designed Fort William College in Calcutta, was most honourable to him, and the plan was in all respects worthy of his genius and of the grandeur of the mighty vice-royalty over which he presided. He drew up an elaborate paper in which he showed the pressing want of such an institution, and the necessity of training up an able and high-principled body of men for the civil administration of India, unless our dominion was to be a mere reign of terror, maintained as acquired by the sword, and a curse instead of a blessing to the subject myriads of the native population. In an able and elaborate paper, which he called " Notes by the Governor- General in Council," the Marquis Wellesley unanswer- ably demonstrated the necessity of a strict systematic course of training and study for the formation of an efficient class of public servants. " The civil servants of the English East India Company," he remarked, " can no longer be considered as the agents of a com- mercial concern. They are, in fact, the ministers and officers of a powerful sovereign ; they must now be viewed in that capacity, with reference, not to their nominal, but to their real occupations. They are required to discharge the functions of magistrates, judges, ambassadors, and governors of provinces, in all the com- plicated and extensive relations of those sacred trusts and exalted stations, and under peculiar circumstances, which greatly enhance the solemnity of every public obligation, and aggravate the diffi- culty of every public charge. Their duties are those of statesmen in every other part of the world, with no other characteristic difference than the obstacles opposed by an unfavourable climate, 3 Pearce, vol. ii. p. 270. MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 421 by a foreign language, by the peculiar usages and laws of India, and by the manners of its inhabitants. Their studies, the dis- cipline of their education, their. habits of life, their manners and morals should therefore be so ordered and regulated as to establish a just conformity between their personal consideration, and the dignity and importance of their public stations, and to maintain a sufficient correspondence between their qualifications and their duties. Their education should be founded on a general know- ledge of those branches of literature and science which form the basis of the education of persons destined to similar occupations in Europe. To this foundation should be added an intimate acquaintance with the history, language, customs, and manners of the people of India, with the Mahommedan and Hindoo codes of law and religion, and with the political and commercial interests and relations of Great Britain in Asia. They should be regularly instructed in the principles and system which constitute the foundation of that wise code of regulations and laws enacted by the Governor-General in Council, for the purpose of securing to the people of this empire the benefit of the ancient and accustomed laws of the country, administered in the spirit of the British con- stitution. They should be well informed of the true and sound principles of the British constitution, and sufficiently grounded in the general principles of ethics, civil jurisprudence, the law of nations, and general history, in order that they may be enabled to discriminate the characteristic differences of the several codes of law administered within the British empire in India, and prac- tically to combine the spirit of each in the dispensation of justice, and in the maintenance of order and good government. Finally, their early habits should be so formed, as to establish in their minds such solid foundations of industry, prudence, integrity, and religion, as should effectually guard them against those temptations and corruptions with which the nature of this climate and the peculiar depravity of the people of India will surround and assail them in every station, especially upon their first arrival in India. The only discipline of the service should be calculated to counteract the defects of the climate, and the vices of the people, and to form a natural barrier against habitual indolence, dissipation, and licen- tious indulgence ; the spirit of emulation, in honourable and useful pursuits, should be kindled and kept alive by the continual pro- spect of distinction and reward of profit and honour ; nor should 422 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. any precaution be relaxed in India which is deemed necessary in England, to furnish a sufficient supply of men qualified to fill the high offices of the state with credit to themselves, and with advantage to the public. Without such a constant succession of men in the several branches and departments of this govern- ment, the wisdom and benevolence of the law must prove vain and inefficient." Lord Wellesley also hoped that the college thus founded would soon be thronged by native students, by Hindoo, by Persian, and by Arab, who might there seek after knowledge in community with their European rulers, and feel that the bond of a joint education united them as members of one great empire. Lord Wellesley was sanguine of the success of his foundation, which he hoped would perpetuate his name in the East far more than any of the conquests which had been achieved under his sway. But his masters in Leadenhall-street received his announce- ment of the foundation of his college with an order for its instant dissolution ; and among the many annoyances which irritated the Governor-General against the East India Directors, this deep disappointment of his favourite scheme proved the most galling and the most enduring. Lord Wellesley's biographer, Mr. Pearce, after detailing these events, properly remarks, that " it is but justice to the Honourable East India Company to say, that after the heat of these discussions had passed away, in a magnanimous spirit, they took up the plan of Lord Wellesley, and put it into execution with so much success, that many have doubted, and still doubt, whether the main- tenance of Fort William College, as originally designed, would have been more useful to the servants of the Company, than the College at Haileybury. This question is yet open ; but the expe- rience of several years has shown that the education imparted at Haileybury has had a most important influence in elevating the general character of the servants of the East India Company, and has added an immense impetus to the cause of native education in India. Colleges and schools under the patronage of the Government are springing up in every part of India; and the day, we trust, will yet arrive, when a university of Calcutta will realise the renown, and accomplish the mighty ends, which the founder of Fort William College hoped to have seen achieved in his own day." MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 423 Lord Wellesley was thrice induced, by the pressing intercession of the ministers, to withdraw the resignation of his Governor- Generalship, which he had sent in. But in 1805 he finally resigned, and returned to England early in the following year. He arrived just in time to have a farewell interview with his friend Pitt, who died before the end of January 1806. Soon after Lord Wellesley's return, an absurd attack was made on him in the House of Commons by a person of the name of Paul. The failure of this man's scheme to impeach him was signal ; and votes of approbation of Lord Wellesley' s administra- tion were carried by triumphant majorities. But, while any pro- ceeding of the kind seemed to be pending, Lord Wellesley declined to enter office, which was the cause of his not joining the cabinet of the Duke of Portland in 1807, though requested to do so by the King. But, though out of office, Lord Wellesley gave the ministry his earnest and effective support on the subject of the memorable expedition to Copenhagen, and seizure of the Danish fleet in the October of that year. Lord Wellesley was convinced that this measure was just and wise; and the boldness of the stroke accorded well with his own energetic spirit. On the 8th of February, 1808, Lord Wellesley defended the expedition, against the strong censures of Lords Grey, Grenville, Moira, Holland, Erskine, and Sidmouth, who denounced it as a manifest departure from that system of moral policy and justice on which we had hitherto professed to act; contending that, even if it had been certain that the French would seize the fleet of Denmark against her consent, the iniquity of that act ought, in sound policy, inde- pendently of all considerations of justice, to have been left to the French government to perpetrate, because the carcases of the ships would have been the only fruits of an action of the deepest atrocity. But in taking this part upon herself, Great Britain had lost her moral station in the world. Lord Wellesley argued that Napoleon had the power and the purpose to seize the Danish fleet; that she had the means of forcing Denmark to co-operate with her in the employment of that fleet ; and then he pressed on the House to consider what would have been the result of our arch-enemy acquiring this powerful marine, as an instrument of attack agaiust us. He showed, also, how the possession of the Swedish fleet would speedily have followed, and these would have been added to the -! :: 1. or navy of Russia (already at war with us) ; and thus the whole floating strength of the North would have been under the control of our enemy. It would have been no trifling accession ; forty sail of the line would have been placed in a commanding situation for the attack of the vulnerable parts of Ireland, and for a descent upon the coasts of England or Scotland ; and in opposition to this formidable navy, the Admiralty could not have assigned any com- petent force without weakening our stations in the Mediterranean, in the Atlantic, and the Indian Seas, at a time when it was neces- sary to maintain our superiority in all these stations. Such being the character and power of the enemy, and such the condition of Denmark, " Is it possible," asked Lord Wellesley, " that any one of your Lordships can assert that the danger is not imminent? The case of danger, made out even in the imperfect manner I have stated it, is so great, that it concerned the very existence of the country as an independent power. Had ministers not acted as they had done, they would have fatally abandoned their highest duties ; and I hope in God, that if ever similar circumstances should occur, the same wisdom will be found at the helm, to conduct the vessel of the state in security amid the shoals and rocks that threatened its destruction. " The moment was precious : a few weeks, perhaps the progress of a single week, would have rendered the attempt unsuccessful, and we should have been exposed to all the dreadful consequences I have detailed. Addressing a British audience, I can scarcely justify arguing the subject : the peril to which the nation Avas liable called up every sentiment of affection to our constitution, to our liberties, and our laws, and in terms mandatory and irresistible dictated the course which must be pursued. The violence which has been attributed to this measure was unavoidable; every attempt at negotiation was unsuccessfully made ; every offer of remuneration was insultingly rejected. It would have been useless to have extorted promises from a people wholly at the disposal of the enemy ; nothing less than the resignation of the fleet was suf- ficient, and the means by which it was obtained were justified by every principle of truth, of equity, and honour. The great maxims of the law of nations are founded on the law of nature ; and the law of security or self-preservation is, among these, the most important and sacred. It is a law equally to be obeyed by individuals and communities. MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 425 " The King, placed at the head of the great society subsisting in these islands, has no duty paramount to the protection of the people ; and by the servants of the Crown this imperious duty has been, on this momentous occasion, vigilantly and ably discharged. The principle of the great law of nature and nations is clearly applicable to the case before your Lordships. Here was an instru- ment of war within the grasp of our inveterate enemy : we interposed and seized it ; and this act of energy and wisdom was to have the hard names of rapine and impiety ascribed to it ! To show that injury had been done to an innocent party in a transaction, was not to prove its iniquity. All war has the effect to involve in its horrors the helpless and innocent ; but it is not on that account necessarily unjust. Let any man say how war can be conducted without it. As neutral individuals may be sacrificed in the common calamity, so also may neutral nations. In cases of this kind the party committing the injury is frequently mistaken; it is often done, not by the ostensible instrument, but by the silent agent who, by previous misconduct, has exposed the sufferer to such an unfortunate situation. Are not such principles fairly referable to every part of this extraordinary case ? If I have accurately stated the relative rights of countries as founded on the laws of nature, the government of Great Britain had only to put into exercise that law of self-preservation that needed no learned and intricate disquisitions to justify. What signified reasoning on abstract rights, it may be said, when the general voice of Europe proclaims the criminality of our conduct ? But is the tongue of Europe free as to the great principles of public law, affecting the interests of Great Britain, especially connected with our maritime claims? Can your Lordships point out any place on the map of Europe where any one dare breathe a sentiment adverse to the ruler of France ? What flag is free ? What ship navigates the ocean but under his orders ? What commerce is there in Europe but under his appointment and control? What soldier, what lawyer, what churchman, what layman, dares to utter an opinion inimical to him ? Is not the subjugation, not only of the continent, but of the body and mind of every individual on its surface, complete ? It reminds me of the condition of humiliated Greece when the arms of Philip of Maccdou were triumphant, and the Delphic Apollo was said by a distinguished orator of that time to speak only in the Macedonian dialect ! Everywhere throughout Europe 126 MARQUIS OF \\T.U,KSLEY. the oracular decisions by which she is governed are French, and to them obedience is paid, due only to Divine authority. From these considerations I hope that the conduct of his Majesty's ministers will be respected and approved ; that no proceeding in Parliament will tend to sully the glory of this most distinguished achievement ; and that nothing will lead the world to suppose that the councils of the nation suspect the purity and honour of this great saving measure." In 1809, Lord Wellesley was appointed Ambassador Extraordi- nary to the Supreme Junta of Spain, which country had risen in arms against Napoleon. In this situation he was able to co-operate effectively with his brother, Sir Arthur, who was now at the head of our forces in the Peninsula. Lord Wellesley returned to England in the December of that year, to fill the arduous post of Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. In this position in the Cabinet, he ably supported his great brother in the field until 1812, when his differences with Mr. Perceval on the Catholic question, and as to carrying on the Peninsular war on a more effective scale, led him to resign. He was at all times a consistent champion of the Catholic claims. He generally supported the government of Lord Liverpool in its coercive measures against the press and against public meetings. In 1825 he accepted the high office of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. He signalised his government by an impartiality that was then novel, and which exposed him to bitter attacks from the zealots of the usually dominant party. He was recalled from Ireland on the formation of the Wellington ministry in 1828. When Lord Grey came into power at the end of 1830, Lord Wellesley was made Lord Steward of the Household. He was made Lord Lieutenant of Ireland a second time in 1833, and resigned that office in December 1834. His last public appoint- ment was that of Lord Chamberlain, which he held for a short time in 1835, but in the May of that year he resigned it, and then, being in his seventy-fifth year, retired altogether from public life. He passed the remainder of his days in dignified repose among a circle of friends who loved and revered him, and was honoured by all who had ever known him. The East India Company in 1837 voted him a munificent pecuniary grant, as a mark of acknowledge- ment of his services. Their predecessors had had angry differences with him ; but now the high merits of the great public servant were felt and fully recognised. In 1841 they further resolved to place a marble statue to his honour in the India House, as a public MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 427 conspicuous and permanent mark of the admiration and gratitude of the East India Company. Much of Lord Wellesley' s time during the last portion of his life was passed in the vicinity of Eton, and now in the leisure of his old age he fondly recurred to those classical studies and com- positions which had been the delight and the pride of his youthful days. A volume of poems, entitled " Primitise et Reliquiae," was printed for private distribution in the eighty-first year of his age. Some of these had been recently written, and they exhibit in an astonishing degree his unimpaired vigour of intellect and his unaltered elegance of taste. One poem in this volume justly attracted universal admiration. In the grounds of the house which was occupied by Lord Wellesley near Eton, there are some very beautiful willows overhanging the Thames, which are of the species introduced into Europe from the East, and called " The WiDow of Babylon." Lord Wellesley com- posed the following Latin verses, which he himself translated into English, on this subject : SALIX BABYLONIA. Passis mcesta comis, formosa doloris imago, Quse, flenti similis, pendet in amne salix, Euphratis nata in ripa Babylone sub alta Dicitur Hebrseas sustinuisse lyras ; Cum terra ignota proles Solymaea refugit Divinum patrise jussa movere melos ; Suspensisque lyris, et luctu muta, sedebat, In lacrymis memorans Te, veneranda Sion ! Te, dilecta Sion ! frustra sacrata Jehovjo, Te, prsesenti JEdes irradiata Deo ! Nunc pede barbarico, et manibus temerata profanis, Nunc orbata Tuis, et taciturna Domus ! At tu pulchra Salix Thamesini littoris hospes, Sis sacra, et nobis pignora sacra feras ! Qu& cecidit Judaea, mones, captiva sub ira, Victricem stravit quoe Babylona manus ; Inde, doces, sacra et ritus servare Parentum, Juraque, et antiqua vi stabilire Fidem. Me quoties curas suadent lenire seniles Umbra tua et viridi ripa beata toro, Sit inilii. primitiasque meas, tenuesque triumplios. Sit revocare tuos, dulcis Etona ! dies. Auspice te, summit) mirari culmina famte, Et purum antiqure lucis adire jubar, Edidici Puer, et jam primo in liminu vitse Ingenuas vero; laudis amare vias : O juncta Aonidum lauro prascepta salutis ! ft Musis consociata Fides! 428 MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. O felix Doctrina ! ct divina insita luce ; Quu v tuleraa animo lumina fausta meo ! Incorrupta, precor, maneas, atque integra, neu te Aura regat populi, neu novitatis amor : Stet quoque prisca Domus ; (neque enim manus impia tangat ;) Floreat in mediis intemerata minis. 4 Det Patribus Patrcs, populoque det inclyta Gives, Eloquiumque Foro, Judiciisque decus, Consiliisque auimos, magnseque det ordine Genti Immortalem alta cum pietate Fidem. Floreat, intacta per postera secula fama, Cura diu Patrice, Cura paterna Dei. THE WEEPING WILLOW OF BABYLON. Sacra, suosque Tibi commendat Troja Penates, IIos cape FATORUM COMIXES! VIBGILITS. Di Majorum Umbris tenuem et sine pondere terrain ! Spirantesque crocos, et in Urn;t perpetuum Ver ! Qui Prseceptorem saucti voluere Parentis Esse loco. JUVENALIS. DISHEVELL'D, mournful, beauteous type of Grief That seem'st in tears to bend o'er Thames's tide, And still to rue the day, when Babel's Chief, High on Thy Parent stream enthroned in pride, Beheld upon Thy melancholy boughs The Harps unstrung of Israel's captive band, When heart, and voice, and orisons, and vows Refused the haughty Victor's stern command To move great Sion's festal lay sublime, To mingle heavenly strains of joy with tears, To sing the Lord's song in a stranger's clime, And chaunt the holy hymn to heathen ears. Down by Euphrates' side They sat and wept In sorrow mute, but not to memory dead ; Oh Sion ! voice and harp in stillness slept, But the pure, mindful tear for thee was shed : To Thee, beloved Sion ! vain were given Blessing and Honour, Wealth and Power in vain The glorious present Majesty of Heaven Irradiated Thy chosen holy Fane ! Fallen from Thy God, the heathen barbarous hand Despoils thy Temple, and thine Altar stains, Reft of Her Children mourns the Parent Land, And in Her dwellings death-like silence reigns. Rise, sacred Tree ! a monument to tell How Vanity and Folly lead to Woe ; Under what wrath unfaithful Israel fell, What mighty arm laid Babel's triumphs low. Rise, sacred Tree ! on Thames's gorgeous shore, To warn the People, and to guard the Throne ; 4 (Lord Wellesley's note on this verse.) " A Reform of Eton College, on the prin- ciples of the new system of education, has been menaced by high authority." MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY. 429 Teach them their pure religion to adore, And foreign Faiths, and Rites, and Pomps disown ! Teach them that their Forefathers' noble race, With Virtue, Liberty, and Truth combined, And honest Zeal, and Piety, and Grace, The Throne and Altar's strength have interwined : The lofty glories of the Land and Main, The stream of Industry, and Trade's proud course, The Majesty of Empire to sustain, God's Blessing on sound Faith is Britain's force. Me, when Thy shade, and Thames's meads and flowers Invite to soothe the cares of waning age, May Memory bring to Me my long-past hours To calm my soul, and troubled thoughts assuage ! Come, parent Eton ! turn the stream of time Back to Thy sacred fountain crown'd with bays ! Recall my brightest, sweetest days of Prime ! When all was hope and triumph, joy and praise. Guided by thee I raised my youthful sight To the steep solid heights of lasting fame, And hail'd the beams of clear ethereal light That brighten round the Greek and Roman name. Oh Blest Instruction ! friend to generous youth ! Source of all good ! you taught me to intwine The Muse's laurel with eternal truth, And wake Her lyre to strains of Faith Divine. Firm, incorrupt, as in life dawning morn. Nor swayed by novelty nor public breath, Teach me false censure and false fame to scorn, And guide my steps through honour's path to death. And Thou, Tune-honoured fabric, stand ! a Tower Impregnable ! a bulwark of the state I Untouch'd by visionary Folly's Power, Above the Vain, and Ignorant, and Great ! The Mighty Race with cultured minds adorn, And Piety and Faith ; congenial pair ! And spread Thy gifts through Ages yet unborn, Thy Country's Pride, and Heaven's parental Care. The Marquis Wellesley died at his residence, Kingston House, Brompton, on the morning of Monday, 26th September, 1842, in the eighty-third year of his age. According to the desire expressed by the Marquis Wellesley, in his will, that his remains should be deposited within the precincts of the ancient seminary where he had received his early education, the funeral took place in the chapel of Eton College : and he rests in that spot of earth, which, through a long and arduous life in many lands, was ever the nearest and the dearest to his heart. 430 MARQUIS OP WELLESLEY. In Mr. Moultrie's stanzas to Eton, which I have already referred to in the memoir of Grey, the following just and beautiful tribute is paid to the memory of Lord Wellesley. FROM MOULTRIE'S STANZAS TO ETON. Ah ! well I ween, knew He what worth is thine, How deep a debt to thee his genius owed The Statesman, who of late, in life's decline, Of public care threw off the oppressive load, While yet his unquench'd spirit gleam'd and glow'd With the pure light of Greek and Roman song, That gift, in boyish years by thee bestow'd, And cherish'd, loved, and unforgotten long, While cares of state press'd round in close continuous throng. Not unprepared was that majestic mind, By food and nurture once derived from thee, To shape and sway the fortunes of mankind ; And by sagacious counsel and decree Direct and guide Britannia's destiny Her mightiest ruler o'er the subject East : Yet in his heart of hearts no joy had he So pure, as when, from empire's yoke released, To thee once more he turn'd with love that never ceased. Such is thine empire over mightiest souls Of men who wield earth's sceptres ; such thy spell, Which until death, and after death, controuls Hearts which no fear could daunt, no force could quell. What marvel then if softer spirits dwell With fondest love on thy remember' d sway ? What marvel if the hearts of poets swell, Recording at life's noon, with grateful lay, How sweetly hi thy shades the morning slipp'd away ? Fain would he cast life's fleshly burden down Where its best hours were spent, and sink to rest, Weary of greatness, sated with renown, Like a tired child upon its mother's breast ; Proud mayst thou be of that his fond bequest, Proud that, within thy consecrated ground, He sleeps amidst the haunts he loved the best ; Where many a well-known, once familiar sound Of water, earth, and air for ever breathes around. {Memoirs by Pcarce. Lord Brougham's Historical Sketches.) LORD HOWE. 431 LOED HOWE. THIS brave old Admiral, who commenced the splendid series of triumphs which signalised our navy during the last great war, was born in 1725. He was the second son of Lord Viscount Howe. He was educated at Eton, and at the age of fourteen entered on board the Severn of 50 guns, commanded by the Hon. Captain Legge, and which formed part of the squadron destined for the South Seas under Commodore Anson. He next served on board the Burford, which was one of the squadron detached in 1743 from Sir Chaloner Ogle's fleet, to reduce the town of La Guyra on the coast of Caraccas. The Burford suffered much in this enterprise, and Captain Lushington was killed. Mr. Howe was appointed acting-lieutenant by the commodore, and in a short time returned to England with his ship ; but the commission not being confirmed by the Admiralty, he returned to his patron in the West Indies. Sir Chaloner appointed him Lieutenant of a sloop of war ; and being employed to cut out an English merchantman, which had been taken by a French privateer under the guns of the Dutch settlement of St. Eustatia, he executed the difficult and dangerous enterprise with the greatest gallantry and judgment. In 1745 Lieutenant Howe was raised to the rank of Commander, in the Baltimore sloop of war, which joined the squadron then cruising on the coast of Scotland under the command of Admiral Smith. During this cruise the Baltimore, in company with another armed vessel, fell in with two French frigates of 30 guns, with troops and ammunition for the service of the Pretender, which she instantly attacked by running between them. In the action which followed, Captain Howe received a wound in his head, which at first appeared to be fatal. He, however, soon discovered signs of life, and, when , the necessary operation was performed, returned to the deck, and continued to fight his ship until the Frenchmen, notwithstanding their superiority in men and weight of metal, were glad to sheer off. For his good conduct in this action Howe was immediately made Post-captain. After being employed on various stations, he about 1756 obtained the command of the Dunkirk of GO guns, which was among the ships that were commissioned, from ail apprehension of a rupture 132 LOUD HOWE. with France. This ship was one of the fleet with which Admiral Boscaweu sailed to obstruct the passage of the French fleet into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, when Captain Howe took the Alcide, a French ship of 64 guns, off the coast of Newfoundland. A powerful fleet being prepared, in 1757, under the command of Sir Edward Hawke, to make an attack upon the French coast, Captain Howe was appointed to the Magnanime, in which ship he compelled the fort on the Isle of Aix to surrender. In 1758, by the death of his brother, who was killed in action in America, Howe, who had now obtained the rank of Commodore, succeeded to the family estates and honours. But he still was true to the sea, and was in constant active employment. In 1759 he was on board of his old ship the Magnanime in the action between the English fleet and the French under De Conflans. Howe greatly distinguished himself in this battle, in which the Thesee and the Formidable were captured from the enemy. When he was presented to the King by Sir Edward Hawke on this occasion, his Majesty said, "Your life, my Lord, has been one continued series of services to your country." Lord Howe con- tinued to serve, as occasion required, in the Channel ; and in the summer of 1762 he removed to the Princess Amelia, of 80 guns, having accepted the command as captain to the Duke of York, Rear-Admiral of the Blue, and serving as second in command under Sir Edward Hawke in the Channel. In October, 1770, he was made Rear- Admiral of the Blue, and Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean fleet. Hawke (then Lord Hawke) said publicly of him in the House of Lords, when some remark had been made about Howe's promotion, " I advised his Majesty to make the promotion. I have tried my Lord Howe on important occasions ; he never asked me how he was to execute any service, but always went and performed it." In 1776 he sailed on board the Eagle for North America. When France (in 1778) became a party in the American war, the , French Admiral D'Estaing appeared on the llth of July, in sight of the British fleet at Sandy Hook, with a considerable force of line-of-battle-ships in complete equipment and condition. Most of the ships under Lord Howe had been long in service, were not well-manned, and were inferior in size to the French vessels. But by judicious arrangement and firm resistance Howe made D'Estaing sheer off, and he throughout the rest of the summer LORD HOWE. 4:33 of that year held his own with an inferior force against D'Estaing. Howe returned to England at the end of 1778, and he was sent to relieve Gibraltar, which he completely accomplished. Peace was concluded shortly after Lord Howe's return from performing this important service ; and in January, 1783, he was nominated First Lord of the Admiralty. That office, in the succeeding April, he resigned to Lord Keppel, but was re-appointed on the 30th of December in the same year. On the 24th of September, 1787, he was advanced to the rank of Admiral of the White ; and in July, 1788, he finally quitted his station at the Admiralty. In the following August he was created an Earl of Great Britain. On the commencement of the war, in 1793, Earl Howe took the command of the western squadron at the particular and personal request of the King. On the 19th of May, 1794, his Lordship being off Brest, it was discovered that the French fleet had put to sea ; on the morning of the 28th, the enemy was discovered to windward, and some partial actions took place. At last, on " THE GLORIOUS FIRST OP JUNE," Howe succeeded in bring- ing on a general engagement. He had twenty-five ships-of- the-line under his command: the French Admiral Villaret had twenty-six, but his ships were greatly superior in size, in their aggregate number of guns and men, and in their weight of metal. Lord Howe at daybreak stood towards them, and on coming abreast of them, at about seven in the morning, he wore to the larboard tack, while the French waited his approach in battle order. Having made the necessary arrangements in his line for opposing his largest ships to the largest ships of the enemy, Howe lay to, and intimated by signal that there was time for the men to breakfast before going into action. At about half- past eight he made the signal for the English fleet to form in close order. Our ships were ranged in one line abreast of each other, while the French line was formed lengthways with their broadsides to our bows. According to Lord Howe's orders our ships were to charge, as it were, the flank of the French line ; each English ship was to single her opponent, and breaking through the French line close to that opponent's stern, to range along side of her and engage her to leeward, so that it would be impossible for the French ships, when beaten, to escape. Accordingly he himself in the Queen Charlotte of 100 guns steered for the Montagne, Villaret- Joyejise's WED HOWE. ship, which mounted 120 guns. Howe kept the signal for close action flying, and the Queen Charlotte forced her way through the French line so close to the stem of the Montagne that the ensign on the French flag-staff brushed the Queen Charlotte's shrouds. As the Queen Charlotte thus passed, she poured a crushing broad- side into the Montague's stern, but could not round to and engage her as intended, as the Jacobin, a French eighty-four, which was next the Montagne in their line, had, just as the Queen Charlotte came on, quitted her position in order to avoid the raking fire which Howe's ship would have poured into her bows, if she had kept her place. She slipped to leeward of the Montagne, into the very position which the Queen Charlotte meant to occupy. The master of Howe's ship succeeded in placing her so as to ply both her broadsides with great effect on the two French vessels. The close firing between the Queen Charlotte and her two opponents began at a little after nine o'clock, and at nearly the same time the action became general along the line. Unfortunately, only five of Howe's ships followed the example which he had so bravely given of forcing their way through the enemy's line and engaging to leeward. The rest of our fleet, to the infinite mortification of Howe, engaged their respective adversaries to windward, thus allowing the French, when beaten, to go off before the wind. But, notwithstanding the failures in the British manoeuvre, a decisive victory was obtained. After fighting manfully for about an hour, the French Admiral Villaret-Joyeuse gave way, and stood off to the northward, and was followed by all the ships in his van that could carry sail. He left ten of his ships, almost all of them totally dismasted, and nearly surrounded by the English. But the uninjured state of some of the French ships, which still continued the engagement, and the dispersed and crippled condition of a part of the British squadron, (among others Lord Howe's own ship,) enabled many of the French to escape, though the only canvass three of them could spread was a small sail raised on the stump of the foremast. The retreat of these ships was covered by Villaret-Joyeuse, who, having lain to leeward and repaired his damages, brought up eleven or twelve of his ships, which had lost none of their masts, to the succour of his dismasted ones. Seven, however, of the French line-of-battle-ships were abandoned to their fate. Six of these were taken possession of by the English ; but the Vengeur had received too many shots between wind and LORD HOWE. 435 water to remain a prize. She filled, and went down in deep water almost as soon as the English flag was hoisted on her. After securing his six other prizes, and giving assistance to the most shattered of his own ships, Lord Howe made the signal for the fleet to close round him. This was done with the intention of again attacking Villaret- Joyeuse. The French Admiral, however, aimed at nothing but securing his own retreat : he collected his nineteen sail-of-the-line, and made away for the coast of Brittany. Some of our naval writers have censured Lord Howe's victory as incomplete, and have compared it with the utter destruction which Nelson used to inflict on an enemy. But it must be remem- bered that Howe had not such captains to back him up as Nelson had. If Howe's orders had been obeyed, in all probability not a French ship would have escaped ; for though the Republican sea- men showed great courage, they could not stand the fighting at close quarters. We should remember that the English navy, at the commencement of the war, was not what St. Vincent and Nelson gradually made it. There is an excellent work by Captain La Graviere, 5 a French officer, (now serving in the Indian Seas,) in which the progressive improvement of the English navy and the progressive deterioration of the French, as the war went on, are admirably pointed out and explained. In truth, Lord Howe's victory, coming at the very beginning of hostilities, was of incal- culable importance. It gave our sailors the enthusiasm and con- fidence of success; and it went far in giving the youth of Repub- lican France a dislike for the sea-service ; which, if they had won the first battle, might have become popular, and might have pro- duced almost as many distinguished leaders among them as their revolutionary army did. Lord Howe was received in England after his victory with merited honour. He was now seventy years of age, and his robust constitution, which had been so long and so severely tried, at last began to fail. He lived, however, to do his country good service in winning back, by judicious kindness, many of our seamen to their duty in the time of the mutinies at the Nore and Spithead. He died of gout, which he had driven to his head by trying to cure it by electricity, on the 5th of August, 1799. (Barrow's Life of Howe. James's Naval History.} * Translated by Captain Plunkett. 436 GEORGE CANNING. GEORGE CANNING. ON commencing the memoir of a statesman whose fate still forms a topic of angry controversy between contending politicians, and much of whose career is well remembered, even by those among us who have scarcely attained to middle age, I feel the difficulty of keeping clear of present party politics, and yet treat- ing my subject with the earnestness and the care which are due to the genius of Canning. In this, and some other biographical sketches which yet remain, before I close my list of Etonian statesmen, Incedo per ignes Suppositos cineri doloso, and I must strictly restrain my pen to a statement of facts with but few comments ; and I shall prefer to give those comments in the words of others to employing my own. George Canning was born in London on the llth of April, 1770. He was descended of an ancient and respectable family ; but in the first year of his infancy his father died, leaving his wife and little son wholly unprovided for. The early education of Mr. Canning was superintended by his uncle, Mr. Stratford Canning, a London merchant, who died a short time before his nephew went to the university. His grand- father also settled on him a small Irish estate, the income from which, though quite inadequate as a provision for life, was of great service as a fund for his education. At twelve years of age George Canning was sent to Eton, where he was placed in the Remove, and where he remained till the age of seventeen. He was soon distinguished among his contem- poraries at Eton as a sedulous as well as a brilliant student. He was keenly susceptible to emulation, and early felt the pleasure and the pride of being foremost in each intellectual contest, and also early learned and practised the steady discipline by which alone such success can be secured. Those who were near him in the school at Eton concur in describing him as possessing great quick- ness in mastering whatever he undertook to learn; as a boy of frank, generous, and conciliatory disposition, and of a bold, manly, GEORGE CANNING. 437 and unflinching spirit. The beauty of his Latin versification obtained him great distinction, and some of his compositions are preserved in the " Musse Etonenses." It was not in the composi- tion of Latin only that he showed his youthful ability. In con- nexion with some of the other leading boys in the school Canning projected the " Microcosm," a literary periodical, of which he was editor, in the pages of which his earlier English writing appeared. Several of these are of considerable merit, even when viewed with- out reference to their being the productions of a boy. One copy of verses on the Slavery of Greece has often been referred to, as showing how early Canning was zealous for that liberation of Greece from the Turkish yoke, which one of the last public acts of his life did much to accomplish. At the close of the last essay which Canning contributed to the " Microcosm/' he there expressed his love for Eton. " From her [Eton] to have sucked the ' milk of science/ to have contracted for her a pious fondness and veneration, which will blend me for ever to her interests, and perhaps to have improved by my earnest endeavours the younger part of the present generation, is to me a source of infinite pride and satisfaction." Canning never lost his affectionate feelings for Eton ; and when years had matured his judgment, he thus expressed his deliberate opinion of the value of a public-school education : " Foreigners often ask, 'by what means an uninterrupted succession of men, qualified more or less eminently for the performance of united parliamentary and official duties, is secured/ First, I answer, that we owe it to our system of public schools and universities. From these institutions is derived (in the language of the prayer of our collegiate churches) ' a due supply of men fitted to serve their country both in Church and State/ It is in her public schools and universities that the youths of England are, by a dis- cipline, which shallow judgments have sometimes attempted to undervalue, prepared for the duties of public life. There are rare and splendid exceptions, to be sure; but in my conscience I believe, that England would not be what she is, without her system of public education ; and that no other country can become what England is, without the advantages of such a system." At seventeen Mr. Canning left Eton for Christchurch, Oxford, where he more than sustained the reputation he had acquired at Eton. His course through the university was equally marked by 438 CANNING. severe study and honourable distinction, and few statesmen have gathered from books so much actual, practical, and available knowledge of men. He there, among other connexions, formed an intimate friendship with Mr. Jenkinson, afterwards Lord Liver- pool, which had an important influence over his after-life. Canning's college vacations were sometimes passed in the house of Sheridan, who took a lively interest in his fortunes, and introduced him to Mr. Fox, Lord John Townsend, the Duchess of Devon- shire, and other leading persons, who were almost exclusively of the Whig party in politics. Sheridan thought most highly of Canning's abilities, and, it is said, went the length of boasting in parliament of the brilliant recruit that was about to be added to the Whig party. There does not, however, appear to be any ground for asserting that Canning had ever shown any bias towards Sheridan's politics ; certainly he cannot be taxed with ever having publicly professed them. His natural inclination seems to have been towards the school of Pitt, who, it is to be remarked, was in favour of Catholic Emancipation ; and held, on many other subjects, views far different to those entertained by many who, both before and after his death, have called themselves his genuine followers. Canning, on leaving Oxford, had entered at Lincoln's Inn; but his legal studies were soon abandoned for the brilliant political career that was opened to him. Mr. Pitt had heard of Canning's talents, and especially of the high powers of oratory which he had displayed in debating societies at Oxford, and afterwards in London. Mr. Pitt, through a private channel, communicated his desire to see Mr. Canning. With this requisition Mr. Canning, of course, readily complied. Mr. Pitt proceeded, immediately on their meeting, to declare to Mr. Canning the object of his request- ing an interview with him ; which was to state, that he had heard of Mr. Canning's reputation as a scholar and a speaker, and that, if he concurred in the policy which government was then pur- suing, arrangements would be made to facilitate his introduction into Parliament. After a full explanation between Mr. Pitt and Mr. Canning, of the feelings of each on all the important public questions of the moment, the result was, on Mr. Canning's part, the determination to connect himself politically with Mr. Pitt; and, on the part of Mr. Pitt, the offer of a seat in parliament. Accordingly, in 1793, at the age of three-and-twenty, Mr. Canning GEORGE CANNING. 439 having relinquished his legal studies, was brought into parliament by Mr. Pitt, and took his seat on the ministerial benches for the borough of Newport, in the Isle of Wight. Mr. Canning's first care was to make himself well acquainted with the forms and usages of the House of Commons, and he prudently refrained from speaking during the first session that he sat in parliament. In January, 1794, he first ventured to address the House, and showed such powers as commanded respect and general attention. The subject of the debate on which he spoke was a treaty (coupled with a subsidy from England) with the King of Sardinia, to enable his Majesty to resist the invasion of Piedmont by the French. During the session, and the session of 1795, Mr. Canning spoke frequently, and at times was left by Mr. Pitt to bear the brunt of a formidable debate. At this time he sup- ported the temporary suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, and declared himself against parliamentary reform. In 1796 Mr. Canning received the appointment of Under- secretary of State. He now devoted himself assiduously to the duties of his office, but continued to be Pitt's ready and resolute auxiliary or substitute in the debates. In 1798 he made a speech which produced great effect, and added very much to his reputa- tion, in reply to Mr. Tierney's motion respecting peace with France. The House was not the only arena of political warfare in which Canning exercised his wit and sarcasm at the expense of the favourers (real or supposed) of French democracy. In connexion with Frere, Giffard, and others, he started the " Anti- Jacobin," a periodical, in which every one who manifested either in speech, poetry, or prose-writing, or in vote, or in any way, a love of change, any admiration for anything connected with France, or a disbelief in the perfection of the existing state of things in England, was satirised, burlesqued, parodied, and held up as a laughing-stock to the public. Canning was the chief support of this witty, but bitter, and frequently most unfair, periodical. The best known of his com- positions in it, is "The Needy Knifegrinder ;" but perhaps the following comical lampoon upon " Young Germany/' as it even then began to display itself, though the name was not yet known, may serve as a fair specimen of his style in this literary warfare : 440 (JEOKGE CANNING. THE UNIVERSITY OF GOTTINGEN. Whene'er with haggard eyes I view This dungeon, that I'm rotting in, I think of those companions true, Who studied with me at the U niversity of Gottingen. niversity of Gottiugen. Sweet 'kerchief, check'd with heavenly blue, Which once my love sat knotting in ! Alas ! Matilda then was time ! At least I thought so at the U niversity of Gottingen. niversity of Gottingen. Barbs, barbs, alas ! how swift ye flew, Her neat post-waggon trotting in ! Ye bore Matilda from my view, Forlorn I languish'd at the U niversity of Gottingen, niversity of Gottingen. This faded form ! this pallid hue ! This blood my veins are clotting in ; My years are many, they were few When first I enter'd at the U niversity of Gottingen. niversity of Gottingen. There first for thee my passion grew, Sweet, sweet Matilda Pottingen ! Thou wast the daughter of my tu tor, law professor of the U niversity of Gottingen. niversity of Gottiugen. Sun, moon, and thou, vain world, adieu ! That kings and priests are plotting in ; Here doomed to starve on water-gru el, never shall I see the U niversity of Gottingen. niversity of Gottingen. Mr. Canning bent the full force of his abilities to the promotion of the Union with Ireland, and he was from first to last the famed, the eloquent, and the consistent advocate of Catholic Emancipa- tion. He also made himself honourably eminent by his efforts in co-operation with Mr. Wilberforce against the African slave trade. He was appointed one of the commissioners for managing the affairs of India; and in 1800 he married Joanna, the youngest daughter of General John Scott, of Balcomie, an officer who had GEORGE CANNING. 441 acquired great wealth. This union made Mr. Canning perfectly independent of place, for his wife's fortune exceeded 100,000/. On the dissolution of Mr. Pitt's cabinet in 1801, Mr. Canning retired with the rest, and attacked Mr. Addington's ministry both within and without Parliament with all his varied armoury of eloquence, parody, and lampoon. Mr. Canning has been severely censured for this part of his political life; and it is but fair to observe that he justified his hostility to Mr. Addington as a minister, on the ground of the perilous nature of the struggle in which we were then engaged against Napoleon, and of the imperious necessity of having a master-mind to direct our councils. He strongly and eloquently expressed this in one of the debates of that period. "If," said he, "I am forced to speak my opinion, I have no disguise nor reservation. I do think that this is a time when the administration of the government ought to be in the ablest and fittest hands. I do not think that the hands in which it is now placed answers to that description. I do not pretend to conceal in what quarter I think that fitness most eminently resides. I do not subscribe to the doctrines which have been advanced, that in times like the present the fitness of individuals for their political situations is no part of the consideration to which a member of Parliament may fairly turn his attention. I know not a more solemn or important duty that a member of Parliament can have to discharge, than by giving, at fit seasons, a free opinion upon the character and qualities of public men. Away with the cant of ' measures, not men ! ' the idle supposition, that it is the harness, and not the horses, that draws the chariot along ! No, sir, if the comparison must be made, if the distinction must be taken, men are everything, measures comparatively nothing. I speak, sir, of times of difficulty and danger, of times when systems are shaken, when precedents and general rules of conduct fail. Then it is, that not to this or that measure, however prudently devised, however blameless in execution, but to the energy and character of individuals, a state must be indebted for its salvation. Then it is that kingdoms rise or fall in proportion as they are upheld ; not by well-meant endeavours, (laudable though they may be,) but by commanding, overawing talents, by able men. And what is the nature of the times in which we live ? Look at France, and see what we have to cope with, and consider what has made her 442 GEORGE CANNING. what she is ? A man ! You will tell me that she was great, and powerful, and formidable, before the date of Bonaparte's govern- ment, that he found in her great physical and moral resources, that he had but to turn them to account. True ; and he did so. Compare the situation in which he found France, to that which he has raised her to. I am no panegyrist of Bonaparte; but I cannot shut my eyes to the superiority of his talents, to the amazing ascendant of his genius. Tell me not of his measures and his policy. It is his genius his character that keeps the world in awe." On Mr. Pitt's return to office, in 1804, Mr. Canning was named Treasurer of the Navy. In 1805 he defended Lord Melville, the ex-First Lord of the Admiralty, who was accused by Mr. Whitbread and others of having made an unfair use of public money. Canning's defence of his friend was eloquent and skilful, but it failed. Mr. Pitt died in January, 1806. Canning ever retained a just gratitude and admiration for the great minister, to whom he owed his own political existence. His tributes to the memory of Pitt were frequent, eloquent, and sincere ; and one of them, which was uttered after both Pitt and Fox were gone, deserves quotation for the credit which it does to Canning's good feeling, as well as to his oratorical ability. Mr. Sheridan, in the debates on the Regency resolutions, in 1811, had spoken harshly and severely of Pitt ; and Canning, in reply, said, " Sir, I have heard these things from my right honourable friend, Mr. Sheridan, with peculiar pain : but he is not the first that has resorted to this singular species of reasoning. What advantage any man, or any set of men, can propose to themselves from substituting for argument upon the question now actually under discussion, attacks upon the characters of persons now no more, and particularly (what from my right honourable friend I should have expected less than from any other) upon the memory of that great man, who bore a principal part in the proceedings of that period, I am utterly at a loss to imagine. Can it be neces- sary in our present difficult and distressing situation a situation sufficiently full of divisions and distractions to rake up the ashes of the dead, for the purpose of kindling new flames among the living? For my own part, I have the satisfaction to feel, that such is neither my opinion nor my practice. No man can accuse me of having ever gone out of my way, in any discussion in this GEORGE CANNING. 443 House, to speak with disrespect of those who differed from Mr. Pitt when living, and who are now gathered together with him in the peace and shelter of the grave. For myself, and I hope from all those who have imbibed their political sentiments from the same master, I can confidently say, that we do not desire to erect an altar to the object of our veneration, with materials picked from the sepulchral monument of his rival. The character of him whom we reverence and regret, we are satisfied, may safely be suffered to rest upon its positive merits. It shines without con- trast ; its lustre is all its own, and requires not the extinction of the reputations of others to make it blaze with a brighter flame. " I cannot I own I cannot conceive the feelings and policy of those who pursue an opposite system. I cannot understand the wisdom of reviving, at this moment, those party heats, and political and personal animosities, which the hand of death, one should have thought, might well be allowed to have closed; and which the progress of time might of itself be supposed to have obliterated. Is this the foretaste which the honourable and the right honourable gentlemen opposite think fit to give of the spirit in which their new government is to be conducted ? Entering upon a new scene of things, in which, even if they could forget and cause to be forgotten every subsisting hostility, every partiality and prejudice, by which the political men now living are divided, they would still have difficulties enough to encounter ; do they think their admi- nistration requires any additional embarrassment ? Or do they think that it will be a facility to it that they should array against themselves the wishes and the feelings of every man in this House and in the country who shares those sentiments, which it is my pride and satisfaction to cherish and to avow for my late illustrious and venerated friend ? I doubt, sir, if an undeserved attack upon that great man can add anything to the strength of their future government; I am sure it adds nothing to the force of their arguments on the question now before us. " . . . . Mr. Pitt, it seems, was not a great man. Is it then that we live in such heroic times, that the present is a race of such gigantic talents and qualities as to render those of Mr. Pitt, in the comparison, ordinary and contemptible ? Who, then, is the man now living, is there any man now sitting in this House, who, by taking the measure of his own mind, or of that of any of his contemporaries, can feel himself justified in pronouncing that 444 GEORGE CANNING. Mr. Pitt was not a great man ? I admire, as much as any man, the abilities and ingenuity of the honourable and learned gentle- man who promulgated this opinion. I do not deny to him many of the qualities which go to constitute the character which he has described. But I think I may defy all his ingenuity to frame any definition of that character which shall not apply to Mr. Pitt, to trace any circle of greatness from which Mr. Pitt shall be excluded. " I have no manner of objection to see placed on the same pedestal with Mr. Pitt, for the admiration of the present age and of posterity, other distinguished men, and amongst them his great rival, whose memory is, I have no doubt, as dear to the honourable gentlemen opposite, as that of Mr. Pitt is to those who loved him living, and who revere him dead. But why should the admiration of one be incompatible with justice to the other ? Why cannot we cherish the remembrance of the respective objects of our veneration, leaving to each other a similar freedom? For my own part, I disclaim such a spirit of intolerance. Be it the boast and charac- teristic of the school of Pitt, that however provoked by illiberal and unjust attacks upon his memory, whether in speeches in this House, or in calumnies out of it, they will never so far forget the respect due to him or to themselves, as to be betrayed into reciprocal illiberality and injustice, that they disdain to retaliate upon the memory of Mr. Pitt's great rival." In April, 1807, Canning was appointed Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. At the end of two years he resigned that office, in consequence of a quarrel with his colleague, Lord Castlereagh, respecting the Walcheren expedition. In 1814 he was sent as ambassador to Portugal, and in 1816 he was made President of the Board of Control. In 1820 he resigned office in consequence of the proceedings instituted against Queen Caroline, of which he strongly disapproved. In 1822 he was appointed Governor- General of India, and was 011 the eve of embarking, when he was suddenly informed that Lord Castlereagh had died by his own hand; and Mr. Canning was entreated to resume his place in the cabinet. He now once more became Secretary of State for the Foreign Department ; and he entered on a career of foreign policy which startled and offended many at the time, but which now commands the admiration of almost all who review it. GEORGE CANNING. 445 He boldly recognised the new States of South America, as inde- pendent States ; and though he declined to plunge the country into a war, in order to support the liberals of Spain against the intervention of the French who had marched to re-instate Ferdinand thd Seventh as unlimited despot at Madrid, he on that occasion announced England's true position, and true mission to be henceforth neither the indiscriminating supporter of intolerance and ancient abuse throughout the world, nor the Quixotic champion of insur- rection, but to be the moderator between the two warring principles, and to show herself the pacific and rational friend of national civilisation and progress. His words had deep significance then ; to us who have seen 1848, they are even still more full of wisdom and warning. In the debate on the 28th of April, 1 823, on the negotiations relative to Spain, he thus concluded a long and able speech, in which he fully exposed the true nature of the conduct of the French Bourbons, and discussed the awful chances of a general European war : " I come next to consider the situation of this country. And first, as to our ability for the undertaking of a war. I have already said, that the country is yet rich enough in resources in means in strength to engage in any contest to which national honour may call her ; but I must at the same time be allowed to say, that her strength has very recently been strained to the utmost ; that her means are at that precise stage of recovery which makes it most desirable that the progress of that recovery should not be interrupted ; that her resources, now in a course of rapid repro- duction, would, by any sudden check, be thrown into a disorder more deep and difficult of cure. It is in reference to this particular condition of the country, that I said on a former evening, what the honourable member for Surrey (Mr. Holme Sumner) has since done me the honour to repeat, ' If we are to be driven into war sooner or later, let it be later : ' let it be after we have had time to turn, as it were, the corner of our difficulties ; after we shall have retrieved a little more effectively our exhausted resources, and have assured ourselves of means and strength, not only to begin, but to keep up the conflict, if necessary, for an indefinite period of time. " For let no man flatter himself that a war now entered upon would be a short one. Have we so soon forgotten the course and progress of the last war ? For my part, I remember well the anticipations with which it began. I remember hearing a man, 446 GEORGE CANNING. who will be allowed to have been distinguished by as great sagacity as ever belonged to the most consummate statesman I remember hearing Mr. Pitt, not in his place in Parliament, (where it might have been his object and his duty to animate zeal and to encourage hope,) but in the privacy of his domestic circle, among the friends in whom he confided I remember well hearing him say, in 1793, that he expected that war to be of very short duration. That duration ran out to a period beyond the life of him who made the prediction. It outlived his successor, and the successors of that successor, and at length came suddenly and unexpectedly to an end, through a combination of miraculous events, such as the most sanguine imagination could not have anticipated. With that example full in my recollection, I could not act upon the presump- tion that a new war, once begun, would be speedily ended. Let no such expectation induce us to enter a path, which, however plain and clear it may appear at the outset of the journey, we should presently see branching into intricacies, and becoming encumbered with obstructions, until we were involved in a labyrinth, from which not we ourselves only, but the generation to come, might in vain endeavour to find the means of extrication. "For the confirmation of these observations I appeal to that which I have stated as the last of the considerations in reference to which the policy of the British government was calculated I mean, to the present state of the world. No man can witness with more delight than I do, the widening diffusion of political liberty. Acknowledging all the blessings which we have long derived from liberty ourselves, I do not grudge to others a participation in them. I would not prohibit other nations from kindling their torches at the flame of British freedom. But let us not deceive ourselves. The general acquisition of free institutions is not necessarily a security for general peace. I am obliged to confess that its imme- diate tendency is the other way. Take an example from France herself. The Representative Chamber of France has undoubtedly been the source of those hostilities, which I should not have despaired of seeing averted through the pacific disposition of the French King. Look at the democracies of the ancient world. Their existence, I may say, was in war. Look at the petty repub- lics of Italy in more modern times. In truth, long intervals of profound peace are much more readily to be found under settle- ments of a monarchical form. Did the republic of Rome, in the GEOEGE CANNING. 447 whole career of her existence, enjoy an interval of peace of as long duration as that which this country enjoyed under the administra- tion of Sir Robert Walpole ? and that interval, be it remembered, was broken short through the instigation of popular feeling. I am not saying that this is right or wrong but that it is so. It is in the very nature of free governments, and more especially, perhaps, of governments newly free. The principle which for centuries has given ascendancy to Great Britain, is that she was the single free state in Europe. The spread of the representative system destroys that singularity, and must (however little we may like it) propor- tionably enfeeble our preponderating influence, unless we measure our steps cautiously, and accommodate our conduct to the times. Let it not be supposed that I would disparage the progress of free- dom, that I wish checks to be applied to it, or that I am pleased at the sight of obstacles thrown in its way. Far, very far from it. I am only desiring it to be observed, that we cannot expect to enjoy at the same time incompatible advantages. Freedom must ever be the greatest of blessings ; but it ceases to be a distinction, in proportion as other nations become free. " But, sir, this is only a partial view of the subject ; and one to which I have been led by the unreasonable expectations of those who, while they make loud complaints of the diplomacy of England, as less commanding than heretofore, unconsciously specify the very causes which necessarily diminish and counteract its efficacy. " There are, however, other considerations to which I beg leave to turn the attention of the House. " It is perfectly true, as has been argued by more than one honourable member in this debate, that there is a contest going on in the world, between the spirit of unlimited monarchy and the spirit of unlimited democracy. Between these two spirits, it may be said that strife is either openly in action, or covertly at work, throughout the greater portion of Europe. It is true, as has also been argued, that in no former period in history is there so close a resemblance to the present, as in that of the Reformation. So far my honourable and learned friend (Sir J. Mackintosh) and the honourable baronet (Sir F. Burdett) were justified in holding up Queen Elizabeth's reign as an example for our study. The honour- able member for Westminster, too, has observed, that in imitation of Queen Elizabeth's policy, the proper place for this country, in the present state of the world, is at the head of free nations 448 GEORGE CANNING. struggling against arbitrary power. Sir, undoubtedly there is, as I have admitted, a general resemblance between the two periods; for- asmuch as in both we see a conflict of opinions, and in both a bond of uniou growing out of those opinions, which establishes, between parts and classes of different nations, a stricter communion than belongs to community of country. It is true it is, I own I think, a formidable truth that in this respect the two periods do resemble each other. But though there is this general similarity, there is one circumstance which mainly distinguishes the present time from the reign of Elizabeth ; and which, though by no means unimportant in itself, has been overlooked by all those to whose arguments I am now referring. Elizabeth was herself amongst the revolters against the authority of the Church of Rome ; but we are not amongst those who are engaged in a struggle against the spirit of unlimited monarchy. We have fought that fight. We have taken our station. We have long ago assumed a character differing altogether from that of those around us. It may have been the duty and the interest of Queen Elizabeth to make common cause with to put herself at the head of those who supported the Reformation ; but can it be either our interest or our duty to ally ourselves with revolution ? Let us be ready to afford refuge to the sufferers of either extreme party ; but it is not surely our policy to become the associate of either. Our situation now is rather what that of Elizabeth would have been, if the Church of England had been, in her time, already completely established in uncontested supremacy ; acknowledged as a legitimate settlement, unassailed and unassailable by papal power. Does my honourable and learned friend believe that the policy of Elizabeth would in that case have been the same ? " Now, our complex constitution is established with so happy a mixture of its elements its tempered monarchy and its regulated freedom that we have nothing to fear from foreign despotism nothing at home but from capricious change. We have nothing to fear, unless, distasteful of the blessings which we have earned, and of the calm which we enjoy, we let loose again, with rash hand, the elements of our constitution, and set them once more to fight against each other. In this enviable situation, what have we in common with the struggles which are going on in other countries, for the attainment of objects of which we have been long in undisputed possession ? We look down upon those GEORGE CANNING. 449 struggles from the point to which we have happily attained, not with the cruel delight which is described by the poet, as arising from the contemplation of agitations in which the spectator is not exposed to share, but with an anxious desire to mitigate, to enlighten, to reconcile, to save by our example in all cases by our exertions where we can usefully interpose. " Our station then, is essentially neutral, neutral not only between contending nations, but between conflicting principles. The object of the government has been to preserve that station ; and for the purpose of preserving it, to maintain peace." On another occasion, about this time, Canning nobly pointed out England's position, England's duty, and also England's power, which some thought to have been set at defiance by the absolutist continental powers. He was returning thanks for the freedom of the borough of Plymouth, which had been conferred on him during a visit which he paid to that well-known seat of our naval power. " Our present repose," he observed, " is no more a proof of our inability to act, than the state of inertness and inactivity in which I have seen those mighty masses that float in the waters above your town, is a proof that they are devoid of strength, and incapable of being fitted for action. You well know, gentlemen, how soon one of those stupendous masses, now reposing on their shadows in perfect stillness, how soon, on any call of patriotism or necessity, it would assume the likeness of an animated thing, instinct with life and motion, how soon it would ruffle, as it were, its swelling plumage, how quickly it would put forth all its beauty and its bravery, collect its scattered elements of strength, and awaken its dormant thunder. As is one of these magnificent machines, when springing from inaction into a display of its might, such is England herself. While apparently passive and motionless, she silently concentrates the power to be put forth on an adequate occasion. But God forbid that that occasion should arise ! After a war, sustained for nearly a quarter of a century, sometimes single-handed, and with all Europe arrayed at times against her, or at her side, England needs a period of tranquillity, and may enjoy it without misconstruction. Long may we be enabled, gentlemen, to improve the blessings of our present situ- ation, to cultivate the arts of peace, to give to commerce, now reviving, greater extension and new spheres of employment, 450 GEORGE CANNING. and to confirm the prosperity now generally diffused throughout this island." Canning's words were no empty boasts. In December, 1826, when the Spanish absolute King attempted by force to overthrow the constitutional government of our ancient ally, Portugal, the Foreign Secretary instantly despatched an English force to Lisbon, to stop this insolent aggression. The speech in which Canning announced this expedition to Parliament is perhaps the noblest that he ever made. After referring to his desire and maintenance of peace, when the French entered Spain, four years before, Canning proceeded : " I then said that I feared that the next war which should be kindled in Europe would be a war, not so much of armies as of opinions. Not four years have elapsed, and behold my apprehensions realised ! It is, to be sure, within narrow limits that this war of opinion is at present confined ; but it is a war of opinion that Spain (whether as government or as nation) is now waging against Portugal. It is a war which has commenced in hatred of the new institutions of Portugal. How long is it reasonable to expect that Portugal will abstain from retaliation ? If into that war this country shall be compelled to enter, we shall enter into it with a sincere and anxious desire to mitigate, rather than exasperate ; and to mingle only in the conflict of arms, not in the more fatal conflict of opinions. But I much fear that this country (however earnestly she may endeavour to avoid it) could not, in such a case, avoid seeing ranked under her banners all the restless and dis- satisfied of any nation with which she might come in conflict. It is the contemplation of this new power, in any future war, which excites my most anxious apprehension. It is one thing to have a giant's strength, but it would be another to use it like a giant. The consciousness of such strength is, undoubtedly, a source of confidence and security; but in the situation in which this country stands, our business is not to seek opportunities of displaying it, but to content ourselves with letting the professors of violent and exaggerated doctrines on both sides feel, that it is not their interest to convert an umpire into an adversary." After describing the position of England, as keeping in check the passions of the world, and the horror of the scene, if she were to descend from her post of arbitrament to lead the conflict, he continued : " This, then, is the reason, a reason very different from fear the reverse of a consciousness of disability, why I dread the recurrence of hosti- (11-olJCrE CANNING. 451 lities in any part of Europe, why I would bear much, and would forbear long, why I would (as I have said) put up with almost anything that did not touch national faith and national honour, rather than let slip the Furies of War, the leash of which we hold in our hands, not knowing whom they may reach, or how far their ravages may be carried. Such is the love of peace which the British government acknowledges ; and such the necessity for peace which the circumstances of the world inculcate. I will push these topics no further." These words of Canning thrilled far and wide throughout the world ; and the expression of these sentiments made his countrymen think that they again had to guide the destiny of England a national and not a party statesman. These speeches, supported by corresponding actions, won for Canning the hearts of all England ; save those of a few implacable politicians in the extreme of each great party. Some of these were startled and indignant at what they deemed the new-born and spurious liberalism exhibited by the Foreign Secretary ; the others sternly remembered Canning's anti-reform harangues and anti-liberal lampoons, and prepared themselves to stand haughtily aloof if he ever should claim their sympathy or need their co-operation. On the 18th of February, 1827, Lord Liverpool became incapa- citated through illness from any further discharge of public duty, and in the April following all Europe heard with the keenest interest that George Canning was Prime Minister of England. An immediate breaking up of the old party phalanx in which and for which Canning had so long combated, was the result. The greater part of his former colleagues refused to sit with him, and went into lamentably violent opposition : on the other hand, many of his old adversaries joined him; and when Parliament re-assembled in May, each of the former great camps seemed broken up, and the Minister appeared at the head of a band recruited from all quarters to struggle against that rancorous and savage opposition with which contending statesmen of the present time too often goad a rival Minister even to death, forgetful that the day may come when they may themselves be similarly circumstanced, and may have cause to deprecate the same remorseless persecution. I have read in one biography of Canning, that in 1806, when Fox was sinking under illness and the burden of office, the vehement and incessant attacks of Canning contributed much to wear him oo 2 452 GEORGE CANNING. down to the grave. If this were so, there was a bitter retribution for it in Canning's sufferings twenty years afterwards : and some may think that other stages in the recurring series of the infliction and the endurance of such persecution have since that time been witnessed. On the 2nd of July, 1827, the short but stormy session was ended. Canning's voice had been heard four days before for the last time that Parliament. The closing scenes of the great man's life have been so beautifully described, and his character drawn so forcibly (and I believe in most points justly) by the recent historian of the Thirty Years' Peace, that I gladly decline the painful and difficult duty of employing expressions of my own on these still contested topics. Harriet Martineau, after narrating the close of the session of 1827, says, "The time was now come for repose to many who greatly needed it after the excitement of a most stormy session, during which, if there was little done, there was more felt and said than some had strength of body and mind to bear. Mr. Canning and Mr. Huskisson were both very ill. Mr. Huskisson was ordered abroad by his physicians. Mr. Canning could not, of course, leave his post : and those who watched him with the almost idolatrous affection which he inspired in all who were near to him, saw that no outward repose could be sufficient for his needs. Time was the only healer that could avail him ; for his oppression was of the mind. He keenly felt the loneliness of his position, estranged from those who had always been his comrades, and whom he loved with all the capacity of his large heart ; obliged to bear with their misconstruction, more painful to him than the insults of their followers ; and prevented by former passages of his life, and by many ghosts of departed sarcasms of his own, from throwing himself into intimacy with his new coadjutors. He had a bitter sense of loneliness on the pinnacle of his power ; and bitter was it to bear alone the remembrance of the usage he had met with during the last few weeks. Time and success would set all right. Of success he was certain ; for he was not one who failed in his enterprises. Whether time would aid him depended on whether his bodily forces would hold out. Those who looked at his care-worn face and enfeebled frame trembled and doubted : but here were some months before him of the finest season of the year, and it would be seen what they could do for him. A week GEOKGE CANNING. after the dispersion of Parliament, he dined with Lord Lyndhurst at Wimbledon, and sat down under a tree while warm with walking ; and upon this followed a feverish cold and rheumatism. On the 18th, Mr. Huskisson called to take leave before his continental journey, and found him in bed. He looked so ill, that his friend observed that he seemed the most in need of change and relaxation ; to which Mr. Canning replied, ' O ! it is only the reflection of the yellow linings of the curtains/ Mr. Huskisson went abroad the next day, to be brought back by the news of his friend's death. Two days after this last interview, Mr. Canning removed to the Duke of Devonshire's villa at Chiswick, where Fox died, and inhabited the very room. He did not gain strength, though he attended to business, and on the 25th dined with Lord Clanricarde. He complained of weakness, and went home early. On the 30th he waited upon the King, who was so alarmed at his appearance, that he sent his own physician to him. Some friends dined with him the next day. He retired early, and never left his bed again. His illness internal inflammation was torturing, dreadful to witness; but there was yet much strength left, for he lived till the 8th of August. On the 5th, the Sunday before his death, he desired his daughter to read prayers, according to his custom when he could not attend church. His agony ceased some time before his death, when mortification had set in. It was a little before four in the morning of Wednesday, the 8th of August, when he breathed his last. " For some few days before, the nation had been on the watch in fearful apprehension of the news ; but yet the consternation was as great as if this man had been supposed immortal. Multitudes felt that the life most important to the world of the whole existing generation had passed away. It was a life in which men had put their trust, (more trust than should perhaps be put in any lile,) from the isles of Greece to the ridges of the Andes. When those who had by their persecution sapped that life now awoke to a sense of its importance, they must have been amazed at themselves that they could have indulged spleen and passion in such a case, and have gratified their own prejudices and tempers at so fatal a cost. But thus it is when men serve instead of mastering their prejudices and passions; they know not what they do : and if they discover what they have done, it is because 454 it is too late. All the honour that could be given now was given. All the political coteries, the whole country, the whole continent, the whole world echoed with eulogy of the departed statesman. From the most superficial and narrow-minded of his critics, who could comprehend nothing beyond the charm which invested the man, to the worthiest of his appreciators, who were sensible of the grandeur of his intellect and the nobility of his soul, all now joined in grief and in praise; and none with a more painful wringing of the heart than those who had but lately learned his greatness, and the promise that it bore. " Mr. Canning was fifty-six years of age. He was borne to his grave in the Abbey on the 16th of August. His family wished his funeral to be as private as the funeral of such a man could be ; and they declined the attendance of several public bodies and a multitude of individuals : but yet the streets were so thronged (in a deluge of rain) that a way was made with difficulty ; and the Abbey was filled : and the grief of the mourners next the coffin hardly exceeded that which was evident in the vast crowd outside. The next morning, the King bestowed a peerage on Mr. Canning's widow. Statues of the departed statesman, and monuments, exist in many places in the world : and it is well ; but the niche in history where the world holds the mind of the man enshrined for ever, is his only worthy monument. " One of the strongest evidences of Mr. Canning's power is the different light in which he appeared to the men about him and to us. His accomplishments were so brilliant, his graces so exquisite, his wit so dazzling, that all observers were completely occupied by these, so as to be almost insensible to the qualities of mind which are most impressive to us who never saw his face. To us he is, as Lord Holland called him, 'the first logician in Europe/ To us he is the thoughtful, calm, earnest, quiet states- man, sending forth from his office the most simple and business- like despatches, as free from pomp and noise as if they were a message from some pure intelligence. We believe and know all that can be told of his sensibility, his mirth, and the passion of his nature : and we see no reason for doubting it, as, in genius of a high order, in Fox, for instance, the logic and the sensibility are so intimately united, that in proportion as the emotions kindle and glow, the reason distils a purer and a yet purer truth. But to us, to whom the fire is out, there remains GEORGE CANNING. 455 the essence; and by that we judge him. We hear of his enthusiasms, kindling easily at all times, but especially on the apprehension of great ideas : but what we see is, that no favourite ideas led him away from a steady regard to the realities of his time. We hear of his unquenchable fancy; but we see that it never beguiled him from taking a statesmanlike view of the society spread out below him, and waiting upon his administration of the powers of the government. He was one of the most practical of statesmen; and herein lay one of the most indis- putable evidences of his genius. His genius, however, never was, questioned. There might be, and there were, men who disparaged genius itself in its application to politics; but there were none who doubted Canning's having it, whatever it might be worth. " His faults were, not only unworthy of his genius, as all faults are, but of a nature which it is not easy to reconcile with genius of so high an order as his. Some of them, at least, were so. We may be able to allow for the confidence, and the spirit of enterprise of adventure, which helped to obtain for him the name of 'adventurer/ the spirit which sprang into the political amphitheatre, ready for the combat on all hands, and thinking at first more of the combat than the cause : we can allow for this, because time showed how, when he knew life and its seriousness better, the cause of any principle became every thing to him, and the combat, a thing not to be sought, however joyfully it may be met. The name of ' adventurer' can never be given to him who resigned office rather than take part against the Queen, and gave up his darling hope of representing his University in order to befriend the Catholic cause. He was truly adventurous in these acts, but with the self-denial of the true hero. " We may allow, again, for the spirit of contempt, which was another of his attributes, least worthy of his genius. It was but partial ; for no man was more capable of reverence ; and much of his ridicule regarded fashions and follies, and affectations of virtue and vice : but still, there was too much of it. It did visit persons ; and it did wound honest or innocent feeling, as well as exasperate some whose weakness was a plea for generous treatment. For this fault, however, he paid a high penalty, he underwent an ample retribution. Again, we may allow for some of his political acts, such as countenancing restrictions on the press, from the 456 WILLIAM WINDHAM. consideration of the temper and character of the times, and of his political comrades ; but they necessarily detract from our estimate of his statesmanship. " The same may be said about Parliamentary Reform. It is exactly those who most highly honour the advocates of Reform of Parliament who can most easily see into the difficulties, and understand the opposition, of the anti-reformers in Parliament. But there is no knowing what to say about Mr. Canning's opposi- tion to the repeal of the Corporation and Test Acts. He knew the facts of the case, of course: his advocacy of the Catholic claims shows that he knew the principle of it. His inconsistency in this case must be regarded as one of the waywardnesses, one of the faults, at once intellectual and moral (for he alleged no rea- sons, no plea which he himself would call reasonable) which are the links that bind down even the greatest to their condition of human frailty. As for all the rest of him, he was worthy of his endowments and his great function in life. He was an excellent son to his mother, who died, happily for herself, before him, in March of the same year. He was nearly as large an object in the mental vision of all the leading men of his time as in that of his proud mother, or of his adoring family and private friends. His mind and his name did indeed occupy a great space in the world, from the year 1822 till his death: and when he was gone, there was a general sensation of forlornness throughout the nation which made the thoughtful ponder how such dismay could be caused by the withdrawal of one from amidst its multitude of men." (Memoir prefixed to Speeches. Bell's Life of Canniny. Pictorial History, fyc. fyc.} WILLIAM WINDHAM. WILLIAM WINDHAM, son of Colonel Windham of Felbrigge, was born in the year 1750. From the age of seven to sixteen lie was at Eton school ; thence he went to the University of Glasgow for one year, and from thence to Oxford as a Gentleman-commoner of University College. He left Oxford in 1771. Mr. Windham was in early life on intimate terms with Dr. Johnson, who felt and professed the strongest sentiments of esteem for him. The following expressions from one so little WILLIAM WINDHAM. 457 prone to pay compliments as Johnson was, show what a favourable impression Windham must have made on the old man's mind. They occur in one of the letters printed by Boswell, addressed to Dr. Brocklesby, in which Johnson says, " Mr. Windham has been here to see me ; he came I think forty miles out of his way, and stayed about a day and a half; perhaps I may make the time shorter than it was. Such conversation I shall not have again till I come back to the regions of literature, and there Windham is ' inter stellas luna minores' " Such was Windham in early life, and we learn what he was in more advanced years from Lord Brougham, who speaks of him from intimate personal acquaintance. " His manners were the most polished, and noble, and courteous, without the least approach to pride, or affectation, or condescension ; his spirits were, in advanced life, so gay, that he was always younger than the youngest of his company. "The advantages of a refined classical education, a lively wit of the most pungent and yet abstruse description, a turn for subtle reasoning, drawing nice distinctions, and pursuing remote analogies, great and early knowledge of the world, familiarity with men of letters and artists, as well as politicians, with Burke, Johnson, and Reynolds, as well as with Fox and North, much acquaintance with constitutional history and principle, a chivalrous spirit, a noble figure, a singularly expressive countenance all fitted this remarkable person to shine in debate, but were all, when put together, unequal to the task of raising him to the first rank, and were, besides, mingled with defects which exceedingly impaired the impression of his oratory, while they diminished his usefulness and injured his reputation as a statesman." Lord Brougham goes on to point out Windham's strange love for paradox, which led him to advocate the slave trade, bull- baiting, the worst severities of our then sanguinary criminal code ; in short, everything against which the current of popular feeling seemed to set most strongly. Bentley's celebrated sarcasm upon Boyle [Phalaris IJoylrJ might be literally applied to Windham; for "his judgment, like other men's valour, had commonly the generosity to espouse the weaker side." He seems to have been a very effective, though very eccentric speaker in the House of Commons, of which he AV;US a member for many years. He was, first, Secretary ;xt War, and then of 458 WILLIAM WINDHAM. the Colonies under Fox and Lord Grenville. On the dismissal of the " Talents" ministry Windham returned to the Opposition benches, which had been his original, and, indeed, his natural place. He died in 1810. Many very amusing stories of his oratory and manners are given by Lord Brougham in the memoir of him, contained in his Lordship's well-known collection ; and Sir James Mackintosh has left us this elegantly drawn portrait of Windham : " He was a man of very high order, spoiled by faults apparently small : he had acuteness, wit, variety of knowledge, and fertility of illustration, in a degree probably superior to any man now alive. He had not the least approach to meanness, on the con- trary, he was distinguished by honour and loftiness of sentiment. But he was an indiscreet debater, who sacrificed his interest as a statesman to his momentary feelings as an orator. For the sake of a new subtlety or a forcible phrase, he was content to utter what loaded him with permanent unpopularity ; his logical pro- pensity led him always to extreme consequences ; and he expressed his opinions so strongly, that they seemed to furnish the most striking examples of political inconsistency ; though, if prudence had limited his logic and mitigated his expressions, they would have been acknowledged to be no more than those views of different sides of an object, which, in the changes of politics, must present themselves to the mind of a statesman. Singular as it may sound, he often opposed novelties for a love of paradox. These novelties had long been almost established opinions among men of specu- lation ; and this sort of establishment had roused his mind to resist them, before they were proposed to be reduced to practice. The mitigation of penal law had, for example, been the system of every philosopher in Europe for the last half century, but Paley. The principles generally received by enlightened men on that subject had long almost disgusted him as common places, and he was opposing the established creed of minds of his own class when he appeared to be supporting the established code of law. But he was a scholar, a man of genius, and a gentleman of high spirit and dignified manners." SAMUEL WHITBREAD. 459 SAMUEL WHITBREAD. SAMUEL WHITBREAD was born in 1758: he was the only son of Mr. Whitbread, a brewer of great wealth, by his second wife Mary, third daughter of Earl Cornwallis. He was sent to Eton at a very early age, where he had Mr. Charles Grey (since Earl Grey) and many others who afterwards filled high stations, among his young contemporaries. After leaving Eton he went to Oxford, and then he made a continental tour of more than usual extent; on returning from which, in 1790, he succeeded in obtaining a seat in Parliament as a member for the borough of Bedford. He at once joined the party of Mr. Fox, and continued to be one of his most devoted adherents until that statesman's death in 1806 ; and after the death of Fox he still zealously advocated the same line of politics. He was a prominent speaker soon after he entered into parlia- ment; for we find him, on the 28th February, 1792, moving for a committee of the whole house respecting the Ockazow armament^ and his name from this time is of frequent occurrence in the parliamentary debates. The most prominent event in Mr. Whi thread's career is the impeachment of Lord Melville for imputed misconduct in the administration of the naval department. On the 8th of April, 1805, Mr. Whitbread moved twelve reso- lutions on this subject. These resolutions were strenuously opposed by Mr. Pitt, who was supported by Mr. Canning, the Attorney- General, and the Master of the Rolls ; while Tierney, Lord Henry Petty, Wilberforce, &c. spoke against the previous question. On a division the members proved exactly equal, there being two hundred and sixteen on each side; but the minister's motion by which it had been intended to put an end to all inquiry was negatived by the Speaker's vote. A few days after, Mr. Whitbread moved that an humble address should be presented to his Majesty, praying that he would be graciously pleased to dismiss Lord Melville from all offices held by him during pleasure, and also from his council and presence for ever." This motion, however, was with- drawn ; but a vote having been passed " that the former resolutions 460 SA.MUKL WIIITBREAD. be laid before his Majesty," and also " that they be carried up by the whole house," the name of Viscount Melville was struck from the list of privy-councillors. On the llth of June Viscount Melville himself, having been admitted within the body of the house, entered into an elaborate defence ; but on his retiring, Mr. ^ hit- bread, after an able speech, moved " That Henry Lord Viscount Melville be impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors." This proposition was baffled by various intervening debates till the 25th, when it was finally carried by a majority of one hundred and sixty- six against one hundred and forty-three. On the 26th Mr.Whitbread moved that the house should nominate twenty-one members to pre- pare and manage the articles, and was himself placed at the head of this list as manager, on the nomination of Lord Temple. On the 4th of July Mr. Whit bread brought up the report of this committee, which was followed by eight articles of impeachment. The trial accordingly commenced in Westminster-hall on Tuesday, April 29th, 1806. Mr. Whitbread, as soon as the charges and answer had been read, rose and opened the accusations in a speech of great power. The trial then proceeded through fourteen days, and on the fifteenth day Mr. Whitbread closed the proceedings by a rejoinder to the counsel for Lord Melville. On the sixteenth and last day Lord Erskine pronounced a verdict of acquittal. To have obtained a majority in the House of Commons against Pitt on this subject, was considered such a triumph for Whitbread, that he rose greatly in public estimation, which was not materially diminished by his not obtaining a verdict from the House of Lords. Whitbread declined to accept any office from the Fox ministry in 1806, as he thought it would shackle his senatorial independence : and he is one of the few violent Opposition statesmen to whom the desire of place for themselves cannot be imputed as having acted as an incentive to their efforts to eject others from it. Whitbread was an energetic and unremitting opponent of the slave trade ; he was zealous in whatever concerned the diffusion of knowledge and the extension of education, and in every measure connected with the amelioration of the condition of the people, the mitigation of the penal laws, and the management of the poor. His thorough and well-known honesty, his fearlessness of incurring dislikes or of making enemies by denouncing what he thought to l)c wrong, and his steady resolution in following out a purpose, combined to give him weight in the House, and procured for him SAM TEL WIITTBREAD. 461 a degree of respect and influence which his mere oratorical powers could scarcely have acquired for him ; for though always fluent, and frequently forcible, he was deficient in all the arts and graces of elocution. Byron, who was a somewhat fastidious judge of eloquence, says, in a passage in his letters in which he reviews the various great speakers whom he had heard, " Whitbread was the Demosthenes of bad taste and vulgar vehemence, but strong and English." He attended with honourable regularity to the large and flourishing business which his father had left to him, and which he had the good sense not to be ashamed to carry on. His private life was most exemplary. A few years before his death he was induced, partly from motives of friendship and partly from a taste for the drama, to undertake to re-organise the chaos of the Drury-lane property, and to rebuild the theatre, which had been two seasons in ruins. The rogueries and^ annoyances which he encountered in theatrical affairs are said to have preyed much on his mind, and to have aggravated a natural tendency to disease of the brain. He was in vain recommended by his physicians to withdraw for a time from every kind of business and avoid all mental exertion. He persevered in attempting to fulfil his accustomed round of active duties, and the consciousness of his growing incapacity aggravated the disease which caused it. At length the intellect totally failed, and he died by his own hand on the 6th of July, 1815. The diseased state of the brain, as it appeared on a post mortem examination, showed conclusively that he must have been deprived of reason at the time when this melancholy act was committed. Few men have been so universally regretted after death, by their political adversaries as well as by their friends, as was Whitbread. Out of many eulogiums that were pronounced on him in Parlia- ment at the time of the motion being made for a new writ for the place which he had represented, that of Mr. Wilberforce deserves most respect. " Mr. Wilberforce wished to add his testimony to the excellent qualities of the lamented individual whose death had rendered the present motion necessary ; and, in doing so, he could with truth declare that he was only one of many thousands, rich as \\cll as poor, by whom his character had been highly estimated. Well had it been termed by the noble marquis, ' a truly English character/ 462 SIR JAMES MANSFIELD. Even its defects, trifling as they were, and what character was altogether without defects? were those which belonged to the English character. Never had there existed a more complete Englishman. All who knew him must recollect the indefatigable earnestness and perseverance with which, during his life, he directed his talents and the whole of his time to the public interest ; and although he, Mr. W., differed from him on many occasions, yet he always did full justice to his public spirit and love of his country. For himself, he could never forget the important assistance which he derived from his zeal and ability in the great cause which he had so long advocated in that house. On every occasion, indeed, in which the condition of human beings was concerned, and the lower their state, the stronger their recommendation to his favour, no one was more anxious to apply his great powers to increase the happiness of mankind." (Cunningham's British Biography.} SIR JAMES MANSFIELD. THIS able and upright judge was educated on the foundation at Eton, and succeeded to a scholarship at King's in 1750. He applied himself, on leaving Cambridge, to the study of the law, and obtained great eminence in that profession. He attained, in succession, the rank of King's Counsel, and that of Solicitor- General, and had the distinction of being one of the repre- sentatives in Parliament of the university of Cambridge. In Easter Term, 1804, he was appointed Lord Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas, to succeed Lord Alvanley, who had died on the spring circuit. The new Chief Justice was knighted on his appointment. Sir James Mansfield presided in the Court of Common Pleas until Hilary vacation, 1814. During this period he earned, and retained, the respect both of the profession and the public in general. His decisions, as they are preserved in the reports of Bosanquet and Pullen, and those of Taunton, are much esteemed for the clearness and the fulness with which they frequently expound the principles, and define the practice, of our law. Sir James Mansfield on his retirement was succeeded by another Etonian and KingVman. SIR V1CARY GIBBS. 463 SIR VICARY GIBBS. THIS eminent lawyer was born at Exeter in 1750. He availed himself fully of the advantages which Eton gave him in acquiring a sound classical education, and when he went to King's he gained an university reputation for scholarship. After he had taken his B.A. degree he left Cambridge for London, and applied to the study of the law with an union of assiduity and ability such as is not often exhibited. He had the stimulant arising from necessity; and the Res angusta domi, was to him the motive for steady and systematic industry ; and not, as it too often proves, only an incitement to occasional fits of violent intellectual exertion, mingled with long pauses of despairing inactivity, or wild ebulli- tions of reckless folly. His professional biographer says of Gibbs, " During the three years of his pupilage he carefully abstained from all clubs, either of a literary or social character, was a stranger to the west-end and to the parks, and in general only emerged from his chamber once in the day to eat, in haste and alone, his half-commons of minced veal, and then earth himself again in the midst of precedents and reports." He made himself an excellent lawyer, and instead of being called to the bar as soon as he kept his full number of terms at Lincoln's Inn, he remained for nearly ten years more in laborious obscurity as a Special Pleader. This most abstruse, complicated, and dry part of our law exactly suited Gibbs. I once heard the question whether it was probable that a certain young student would like Special Pleading, answered by the grim forensic veteran, to whom it was addressed, with the cross-interrogatory "Like it, Sir? Can he eat sawdust without butter ? " If ever there was a man gifted with such peculiar taste, it was certainly Vicary Gibbs; and his was also a mind that could appreciate and adapt itself to the strict and logical order, and the miuute and subtle analysis, and the merciless accuracy, which are the advantageous characteristics of our pleading system. Gibbs acquired large practice as a pleader, and when at length he was called to the bar in 1784, he had at once an extensive connexion 464 SIR VIC All Y 01 BBS. of clients, and soon was looked on in the profession as one of the soundest lawyers and most useful juniors of the day. He was employed with Erskine (and, it is said, by Erskine's wish) in the celebrated Irish trials of 1794. This first brought him into public notice ; and as he then was engaged on the popular side, many persons supposed (very unreasonably and very incorrectly) that he was a favourer of what are called popular principles. If they retained this opinion until Gibbs was made Attorney-General, he must then have quickly undeceived them ; for no law-officer of the Crown ever assailed the press with such virulent animosity as did Sir Vicary. In the course of 1794 Gibbs was made Recorder of Bristol, and a King's Counsel. His professional practice was now large and lucrative, especially in mercantile causes and others of the like description, in which a sound and ready knowledge of law, steady industry in learning the facts of each case, and strong common sense in dealing with them, make up far better materials for success in an advocate than eloquence however fervid, and wit how- ever sparkling. In these last qualities Gibbs was wholly deficient. He made no pretence to oratory, and on the few occasions when he tried to be witty, it was truly said of him that "he capered like an elephant." In 1805 he was knighted, and appointed Solicitor-General. At the general election of 1807 he became M.P. for Cambridge; in 1812, Attorney-General. In 1813 he was elevated to the bench as Chief Baron of the Exchequer, and soon afterwards Chief- Justice of the Court of Common Pleas, on the resignation of Sir James Mansfield, which important office he was himself obliged to resign in 1818, on account of ill health. It has been already mentioned that he was distinguished, when Attorney- General, by his crusades against the press. " There were in his time no less than fifty-two newspapers published in London, one half of which are said to have been at one and the same period under prosecution. He hung them all on the horns of a dilemma. If the editor apologised for a libel, his apology came too late; for the Attorney- General would not allow him ' first to calumniate a man, and then to nauseate him with flattery/ If, on the other hand, the unhappy author made no apology, he obviously deserved punishment as a hardened offender." 6 In some 6 Townshend's Eminent Judges. CHRISTOPHER ANSTEY. 465 of these prosecutions he received very mortifying defeats, in conse- quence of the good sense and good feeling of the juries. As a judge, Sir Vicary was as unpopular as he had previously been while Attorney- General. His extreme irritability of temper, his petulant haste, and undisguised self-conceit, combined in making him one of the most disagreeable judges that ever sate in "West- minster Hall, and must have very much detracted from his efficiency. But his sound legal knowledge was signally and con- stantly displayed by him in practice; and, as a criminal judge, he felt the peculiar moral responsibility of his station : he then kept a watch over his own temper, and never suffered himself to be hurried by passion or ill-humour into the infliction of one harsh sentence. Sir Vicary Gibbs survived his retirement from the bench a little more than a year. He died on the 8th of February, 1820. CHRISTOPHER ANSTEY. FROM an Etonian who loved the English law, and thought it the perfection of human wisdom, we now turn to one who certainly seems to have thought it the perfection of human absurdity. Christopher Anstey, the son of the Rev. Christopher Anstey, was born in 1724. Like the two learned judges whom we have last mentioned, Anstey was educated on the foundation at Eton, and there became a scholar of King's. Anstey took his Bachelor's degree in 174G, but became involved in some quarrel with the University authorities, in consequence of which the degree of M.A. was refused to him. Anstey studied for the law, but the opinion which he had of the study may be inferred from his humorous publication entitled " The Pleader's Guide ; a didactic poem, in two books, by M. Surrebutter." In 1754 he succeeded, on his mother's death, to some family property at Trumpington, near Cambridge. He now resigned his fellowship, and lived an independent life, without following any profession. Bath was one of his favourite residences, and, in 1766, he published an amusing poetical sketch, which he had com- posed, of the amusements and the habits of the fashionable visitors of that celebrated watering-place. This poem instantly acquired 466 1 1 1C HARD PORSON. great popularity; so much so, that Dodsley, the bookseller, who had given Anstey 200Z. for the copyright, returned it to him in 1777, stating that he had made more money by the book than by any other in space of time. Anstey generously devoted the profits of his poem to the Bath General Hospital. Anstey translated several English poems (" Gray's Elegy" among the rest) into Latin verse, and published a small volume of these performances. He also wrote some other little poems in English ; but his two " Guides " are the principal works, and of them the " Bath Guide " is the one to which he mainly owes his reputation. The versification of this is remarkably graceful, and the spirit of good-humoured raillery is admirably kept up. The similarity of the metre and the subject of Moore's " Fudge Family in Paris," suggests a comparison, which may be worked out not at all unfavourably to Anstey. Anstey's power of writing rhyming Latin was very remarkable. His Latin version of part of his own poem, where the young lady who has taken up with Methodism complains of the wickedness of her friends and relations, almost beats the English : Simkins frater Desperatur, Ludit, salit turpiter ; Ridet Jan a Sacra fana ; Tabitha Runt deperditur, &c. &c. Anstey spent the latter years of his life entirely at Bath, and died therein 1805. RICHARD PORSON. THIS Greek Emperor was born at East Ruston, in Norfolk, on the 25th of December, 1759. He was the eldest son of the parish- clerk. His father was a man of unusually good education for his station in life, and he was earnestly desirous of giving his children every possible intellectual advantage. He himself paid unremitting attention to them, and strove to teach them the rudiments of knowledge in the simplest and the most effectual manner. The period of life from nine to twelve years was passed by young Porson under the superintendence of Mr. Summers, a village schoolmaster, whose power as a teacher did not extend beyond RICHARD PORSON. 467 his native language, writing, arithmetic, and the rudiments of Latin ; but here again paternal care came in aid of the scanty means afforded for instruction ; for the boy was accustomed every evening to repeat to his father the lessons of the day in the exact order in which they had occurred, so as at once to strengthen both his memory and his judgment. The attention to study which had marked the character of Richard his various acquirements, and his wonderful memory, became the theme of the village. Through the medium of this report, they were heard of by the Rev. Mr. Hewitt, the clergyman, who immediately took the subject of this memoir and his brother Thomas under his care. The progress of both boys was great ; but that of Richard so extraordinary, that his improvement became a topic of conversation far beyond the limits of the district. A gentleman of literary taste and independent property, who resided in the neighbourhood, felt some curiosity to see this youth- ful prodigy, of whom he heard so much. He sent for young Richard, and examined him himself : the result of the examination was to fill Mr. Norris (the name of Porson's benefactor) with surprise and admiration at the great acquirements and still greater capabilities that the boy displayed. He determined on assisting him, by giving him the best education that could be obtained, and for this purpose he sent him to Eton, whither Porson went in 1774, being then in his fifteenth year. He soon attracted universal notice here for the extent of his knowledge of the classics, but more particularly by the extraordinary tenacity and comprehen- siveness of his memory. To learn by heart was to him little more an effort than to read. At Eton he was taught to study with more critical accuracy than he had previously been trained to : but, by his own account, little addition was made to the range of his reading, which had indeed already extended over a wonderfully ample circle. Porson was not only admired by his schoolfellows for his classical eminence, but he was popular in every pursuit and pastime. Some of the writers who have collected anecdotes respecting him, say that Porson used in after-life to dwell on these happy years of his youth with peculiar satisfaction. His literary talents are said to have taken a dramatic turn ; and he would sometimes repeat a piece which he had composed for exhibition in the Long-chamber, and other compositions both of gravity and ii -2 468 R1CTTARD PORSON. humour, Avitli that kind of enthusiasm which the recollection of his academic pleasures never failed to excite. One anecdote respecting him is, that it was while at Eton that young Porson gave his celebrated answer to the question proposed for the subject of a Latin theme : " Crcsare occiso, an Brutus benefecit aut malefecit ? " A game being proposed, he joined the scholars in their youthful sports, and was so engrossed by them, that he entirely forgot the theme. When the time, however, arrived for handing up his production, he snatched a pen, and hastily scrawling " Nee bene fecit, nee male fecit, sed interfecit," presented it to the master. Mr. Norris died while Porson was at Eton. The death of his benefactor was a severe blow, and Porson long lamented the loss of his first patron ; though, by the liberality of other persons, the means were provided for carrying on his education. Porson was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge, in the latter end of the year 1777. His reputation had travelled there before him, but he proved himself more than worthy of it ; and in the larger sphere in which he now moved, he became as much an object of attention as he had been at Eton, or at the little Norfolk seminary. For him to win the university classical scholarship and one of the gold medals were matters of course. One of his papers (a copy of Iambics) in the examination for the scholarship was long preserved as an academical curiosity. He paid but little attention to mathematics, and only took a Senior Optime's degree. He was made a Fellow of Trinity at an unusually early period of his university career. He now contributed various critiques on classical subjects to several periodicals of the day, which attracted much notice, and spread his name beyond the university. He became still better known by his series of letters to Archdeacon Travis on the contested verse, 1 John v. 7. Porson is considered to have completely settled this celebrated and long-agitated question. Not long after he had taken his first degree, it was in the contemplation of the Syndics of the University Press, at Cambridge, to publish ^Eschylus, with some papers of Stanley. Porson offered to undertake the work, provided he were allowed to conduct it according to his own discretion, but his offer was rejected. He some time afterwards RICHARD PORSON. 469 visited Germany : on his return, being much teazed by a loquacious personage to give some account of his travels, he replied, " I went to Frankfort, and got drunk With that most learn'd professor, Brunck ; I went to Wortz, and got more drunken With that more learn'd professor, Ruhnken." The memoir-writer from whom I take this anecdote, says that Person made this reply sarcastically : if so, the sarcasm must have been against himself; for, unhappily, his habits of excess were already such, that his rhymes were most likely literally true. In 1786 Nicholson, the Cambridge bookseller, being about to publish a new edition of Xenophon's Anabasis, prevailed upon Person to furnish him with some notes, which he accordingly did. These occupy about nineteen closely-printed pages, and, although avowedly written in haste, attest the hand of a master. In 1790 a new edition of the very learned work entitled " Emendationes in Suidam et Hesychium, et alios Lexicographos Graecos," was pub- lished at the Clarendon press. To this Person subjoined some critical notes, which were termed " Notse breves ad Toupii Emen- dationes in Suidam," and " Notae in Curas novissimas." These were never publicly acknowledged any further than by Person's initials. In consequence of his conscientious scruples respecting taking holy orders, Person was obliged to resign his Fellowship at the end of seven years. He had no private funds whatever, and the contributions of those who had at first maintained him at Cam- bridge of course had ceased long ago when he seemed to have secured an independence by obtaining his Trinity Fellowship. One of his biographers remarks, that he was a painful example of the inefficacy of great talents and immense erudition to procure inde- pendence, or even the means of existence, without patronage, or those sacrifices to which few men of genius or talents will stoop. In this unpleasant situation, without hope from the public, he yet attracted the attention of some private friends ; and he was soon after, by the unanimous voice of the seven electors, appointed Professor of the Greek language in the university of Cambridge. Although the salary annexed to this important situation is but 40/. per annum, its distinction was grateful to him. This new office not obliging him to reside permanently at the university, he settled in literary life in London. Here he is said to have passed much of his time in dissipation, amid the different convivial circles to which 470 RICHARD PORSON. his wit and agreeable conversation made him welcome. In 1795 he married the sister of Mr. Perry, of " The Morning Chronicle ;" to which he contributed several papers, under the signature of " S. England/' continuing at the same time to write criticisms for the magazines. In 1797 his first edition of the " Hecuba" of Euripides appeared ; but it was in the preface to his second edition of this play that he announced the new canons respecting the Iambic metre of the Greek tragedians, the discovery of which gained him so much celebrity in the learned world. One of these, that respecting the Cretic foot, is supposed to have been first observed by Person about 1790. The writer of the memoir of him in the "Encyclopaedia Britannica " says, that he heard it alluded to in conversation with Porson in 1791. The anecdote respecting the circumstances under which the Cretic was spoken of is curious, and is evidently told by one who had been Person's intimate associate. Porson, it seems, was " somewhat characteristically " attempting to fill his glass out of an empty bottle. Some Greek was ventured on, and it was observed how much better it was to say than Tlav fKTTftrojKas' ovS' (Vfff-ri K6rra^os, Tlav fKirentaKas- ov \e\fiir-rat K.6Tra.$os. The last work which he published was a third edition of the " Hecuba." He continued to reside partly at Cambridge and partly at London, until his death in 1808. About a year before that event he had been elected principal librarian of the London Institution, Moorfields. Person's powers of mind were such as are very rarely found among men even of the most cultivated intellect. His memory was gigantic perhaps " elephantine" would be the more proper epithet on account of the power which it had of apprehending and retaining the minutest as well as the most important subjects. " Nothing came amiss," says Mr. Weston, " to his memory. He would set a child right in his twopenny fable-book, repeat the whole moral tale of the Dean of Badajoz, a page of Athenseus on cups, or of Eustathius on Homer, even though he did every thing to impair his mental faculties." Porson was conscious of his own powers ; and though frank and good-humoured even to a fault with the unlearned, he was unbending among those who assumed the title of scholars. It has been observed that he neither would give nor take praise; (JKOUGE STEEVHNS. 471 and when he was told that a person named had called him a giant in literature, he remarked that a man had no right to tell the height of that which he could not measure. Like his great Cambridge predecessor Bentley, he wrote English with remarkable purity and force. His observations on " Gibbon's History" may rank among the best specimens of caustic sarcasm in the language. Without at all undervaluing classical studies, without undervaluing the necessity of those studies being carried on accurately as well as extensively, without undervaluing the importance of Person's contributions to our knowledge of the great classical writers, it is impossible not to join in the regret, that partly from necessity, partly from choice, Porson so far limited the exercise of his surpassing intellect; and that the possessor of an undeniably great genius should be almost exclusively known as the verbal critic of the great works which the genius of others has bequeathed to us. (Encyclopedia Britannica.} GEORGE STEEVENS. THE consideration of the life of the learned annotator on the ancient drama, reminds me not to pass unnoticed the celebrated annotator on the writings of our own great dramatist, Shakspeare. George Steevens was born in 1736. He was educated first at Kingston-upon-Thames, and afterwards at Eton. On leaving Eton he succeeded to a scholarship at King's College. Steevens possessed a good private fortune, and the whole object of his life seems to have been to illustrate and edit Shakspeare. In 1766 he published twenty of Shakspeare's plays, in four volumes, 8vo. In 1773, with the assistance of Dr. Johnson, he published an illustrated edition of the poet's whole works, in ten volumes, 8vo, of which a second edition appeared in 1785, and a third, in fifteen volumes, in 1793. Mr. Steevens had studied the age of Shakspeare, and had employed his persevering industry in becoming acquainted with the writings, manners, and laws of that period, as well as the provincial peculiarities, whether of language or custom, which prevailed in dili'ercnt parts of the kingdom, but more particularly in those where Shakspeare passed the early years of his life. This store of knowledge he was continually increasing by the acquisition of the rare and obsolete publications 47 2 LORD GRENVILLE. of a former age, which he spared no expense to obtain. Steevens died in 1800. I come now to a group of statesmen, whom I ought perhaps to have introduced at an earlier part of the chapter. But Earl Grey is a statesman whose principal public actions have occurred so very recently, that it seemed desirable to defer any memoir of him until I had recapitulated those whose names are not so inseparably connected with the party disputes of the present time. There was not the same reason for deferring the notice of Lord Grenville ; but his name and Lord Grey's are so generally mentioned together, that I have waited until immediately before the time of intro- ducing the memoir of Earl Grey, before I have commenced that of LOUD GRENVILLE. WILLIAM WYNDHAM GRENVILLE was born in 1753, and educated at Eton and Christchurch. In 1782 he became a member of the House of Commons, and he was soon afterwards made Paymaster of the Forces. He devoted himself to the sup- port of Pitt, and steadily followed his fortunes through the disputes of the coalition, and the discussions and parliamentary struggles that arose on the outbreak of the French Revolutionary War. As early as 1789, Mr. Grenville received the distinction of being made Speaker of the House of Commons. In the same year he was made Home Secretary, and in 1790 he was made a peer. He soon after that time exchanged the Home Secretary- ship for that of the Foreign Department. He was a vehement enemy of the various French Revolutionary Governments, and lent the whole force of his great abilities to urging this country to the most zealous prosecution of the war. In 1801 he left office together with Mr. Pitt, but he did not return to it with him in 1804. Lord Grenville was a warm sup- porter of the Catholic claims ; he had also strongly promoted the union of this country and Ireland. Lord Grenville thought that the hope of Catholic Emancipation had been held out to Ireland as an inducement to consent to the Union ; and accordingly, in I80i, he peremptorily refused to join the administration, unless 011 the terms of making a Catholic Relief Bill one of the govern- ment measure's. Pitt abandoned the Catholic claims and took LORD GRENVILLE. 473 office, and immediately Lord Grenville joined the Whig party, with whom to the end of his public life he continued to act. Lord Brougham observes that "a greater accession to the popular cause and the Whig party it was impossible to imagine, unless Mr. Pitt himself had persevered in his desire of rejoining the standard under which his first and noblest battles were fought. All the qualities in which their long opposition and personal habits made them deficient, Lord Grenville possessed in an eminent degree : long habits of business had matured his experience and disciplined his naturally vigorous understanding ; a life studiously regular had surrounded him with the respect of his countrymen, and of those whom the dazzling talents of others could not blind to their loose propensities or idle habits ; a firm attachment to the Church as by law established attracted towards him the confidence of those who subscribe to its doctrines and approve its discipline ; while his tried prudence and discretion were a balance much wanted against the opposite defects of the Whig party, and especially of their most celebrated leader." Lord Grenville was Premier of the Whig ministry in 1806. On its dismissal he resumed his place on the opposition benches, and twice refused to return to office on terms which he deemed incon- sistent with his duty and his principles. This honourable and high-minded statesman died in 1834. The last years of his life had been spent in retirement, during which a renewal of the classical studies of his youth formed his principal occupation and delight. He had been distinguished at Eton for his Latin, and he formed a collection of very beautiful translations, which he had made into that language, from various pieces of Greek and modern poetry. These were printed for private circu- lation under the title of " Nugae Metricse." Lord Brougham says of him : " The endowments of this eminent statesman's mind were all of a useful and commanding sort sound sense, steady memory, vast industry. His acquirements were in the same proportion valuable and lasting a thorough acquaintance with business in its prin- ciples and in its details; a complete mastery of the science of politics as well theoretical as practical; of late years a perfect familiarity with political economy, and a just appreciation of its importance ; an early and most extensive knowledge of classical literature, which he improved instead of abandoning, down to the 171- EARL oi;r.v. close of his life ; a taste formed upon those chaste models, and of which his lighter compositions, his Greek and Latin verses, bore testimony to the very last. His eloquence was of a plain, mas- culine, authoritative cast, which neglected if it did not despise ornament, and partook in the least possible degree of fancy, while its declamation was often equally powerful with its reasoning and its statement." (Biog. Diet. Lord Brougham's Historical Sketches.) EARL GREY. THE time is not yet come for a full and fair biography of this great statesman to be written. The struggle of the Reform Bill is too recent, the anger, the surprise, the triumph, the hopes, the disappointments, which that measure created, are still too active. It is too much connected with the question of other political changes, which some are fiercely seeking, and others sternly resisting, for us to be able to contemplate the Reform Minister with the calm- ness which history requires. Lord Grey, at some future time, will occupy a large space in every book that treats of any epoch, or any institution, with which his name is connected. But this work is designed to commemorate the past, and not to put forward any theories as to the state affairs of the present time. Its writer will therefore be pardoned if only a brief notice of the dates of the chief events in Lord Grey's life is here inserted ; nor will the brevity of this memoir be imputed to an inability to appreciate the importance of Lord Grey's actions, or to any unwillingness to do justice to his character. Charles Grey was born in 1764. He was educated at Eton and Oxford ; and at the age of twenty-two became a member of Parliament. He was sincerely attached to Mr. Fox, both politi- cally and personally. The best proof of the high opinion which Fox, Burke, and the other chiefs of the Whig party, at that time formed of Mr. Grey's abilities, is, that he was appointed one of the managers for the House of Commons in the celebrated impeachment of Warren Hastings. Mr. Grey, like his leader, Fox, strongly opposed the war against France ; and he was one of the small baud of adherents, who, night after night, faced, by the side of Fox, the large and well- organised majorities of the minister. EARL GREY. 475 Mr. Grey was, from the very outset of his career, a strong and consistent advocate of Parliamentary Reform. As early as 1786 he voted with Mr. Pitt for shortening the duration of parliaments; and he soon after voted for Mr. Flood's reform measure. In 1792, in 1793, in 1797, he himself brought the subject before Parliament ; and when at last, in 1831, he stood forward as Prime Minister, to effect the greatest change ever known to have been introduced into our constitutional system by a single enactment, he could refer to more than half a century, during which he had unceasingly laboured often as it seemed without hope for the cause which was at last about to be victorious. He was also, throughout his long parliamentary career, the advocate of Catholic Emancipation. In 1806, on the formation of the Fox and Grenville Cabinet, he was made First Lord of the Admiralty. He had now become Lord Howick, in consequence of his father having been raised in the peerage to the rank of Earl Grey. He had the honour and the happiness to be actively engaged in passing through the House of Commons the Act for the Abolition of the Slave Trade, the one great measure of that short-lived Whig administration. In November 1807, at the death of his father, he became Earl Grey, and took his seat in the House of Lords. In 1809, and again in 1812, he declined offers that were made to him to join the Tory administrations of those periods. In the troubled times that succeeded the peace, he vehemently opposed the Six Acts, and the other measures of a similar character, which were adopted by the statesmen then in power, with the object of putting down disaffection and discontent, which were at that time prevalent among large classes of the community. He resisted strongly the penal measures which George the Fourth attempted to take against his Queen. In 1827, on the formation of the ministry of Canning, Lord Grey sternly refused his confidence and support to that statesman, whose early opposition to parliamentary reform Lord Grey remembered but too well. At length, in 1830, Lord Grey was himself called on to form a ministry, on the express understanding that a searching and com- prehensive parliamentary reform was to be one of the measures of his government. LOUD HOLLAND. For reasons which I have already expressed, I forbear from entering into details of the Reform Bill, which Lord Grey then introduced, or of the long and passionate conflict which took place before the Reform Bill became the law of the land. I shall only advert to some of the other great measures of Lord Grey's govern- ment. Among these were the abolition of slavery in our West Indian colonies, a general reform of the municipal corporations of England, a series of extensive changes and improvements in almost every branch of our law, the introduction of a new system for administering parochial relief to the poor, and the throwing open of the trade to the East Indies. Lord Grey retired from public life in 1834, and died on the 17th of July, 1845. LORD HOLLAND. ANOTHER Etonian statesman died a few years ago, who was engaged in the great political movements that marked the reign of King William the Fourth. Henry Richard Vassall, Lord Holland, was the son of Stephen Fox, the elder brother of the great Whig statesman. Stephen Fox died when his son was only a year old ; and the young Lord Holland was educated under the care of Charles James Fox, his uncle, who placed him at Eton as soon as he was old enough to be sent to a public school. His education was afterwards completed at Oxford. He was there the companion of Mr. Canning, Lord Carlisle, and Lord Grenville ; and, like them, as Lord Brougham remarks, he laid both at school and college a broad foundation of classical learning, which, throughout his after- life, he never ceased successfully to cultivate. On attaining his majority, and entering the House of Lords, he naturally followed the same line of politics as his uncle. It had at that time few supporters in the House of Lords, nearly all the aris- tocratic members of the old Whig party having taken alarm at the excesses of the French Revolution, and having consequently become zealous supporters of Mr. Pitt and of the war which he maintained against France. Lord Holland held office as Lord Privy Seal during the short existence of the Whig administration of 1806 ; and when the Whigs returned to power in 1830, after being excluded for almost a quarter LORD MELBOURNE. 477 of a century, Lord Holland was made Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, an appointment which he retained until his death in 1840. Thus by far the greater part of his political life was passed in opposition ; and he largely and systematically availed himself of his privilege as a peer to record his written protest against the nume- rous measures which he had opposed by his vote in vain. A col- lection of these protests was piiblished soon after his death, and they form almost a complete history of his political opinions. Lord Holland was fond of literature, both classical and modern, and was favourably known as an author by the publication of several works, which were principally translations from the Spanish. His kind and hospitable disposition, and his singularly amiable temper, made him one of the most popular noblemen of his time ; and though, of course, opinions have varied as to the merits of his political career, few men have ever been so universally esteemed during life, and so justly regretted after death, as was the case with Lord Holland. He died in the year 1841, aged sixty-seven. LORD MELBOURNE. THE reasons already given for passing rapidly over some part of Canning's life, and still more rapidly over Earl Grey's life, in these Memoirs, apply a fortissime fortiori to a Memoir of Lord Melbourne. Queen Victoria's Prime Minister, during the first part of her reign, was the object of too many fierce attacks, personal as well as public, for it to be possible to discuss his career and conduct with- out enlisting in the ranks of one of two parties, whose animosities have not yet been cooled by time. I shall therefore adhere to a statement of dates and simple facts, even more rigidly than I did in the notice of Earl Grey. William Lamb, Viscount Melbourne, was born in 1779. He received his education first at Eton, then at Trinity College, Cambridge, and then at Glasgow, where he formed one of the class to whom Professor Millar lectured on jurisprudence. It is said that in a debating society, attached to that class, Mr. W. Lamb was distinguished among his contemporaries for historical knowledge, strong common sense, and great pleasantry. In 1 805 Mr. Lamb was elected one of the members for Leo- minster, and he forthwith took his place in the party of Mr. Fox, 478 BISHOP HARRINGTON. to whom he had been for some time personally known, and who treated him with great kindness and attention. In 180G he moved the Address in answer to the King's speech. He was a member of the House of Commons for more than twenty years, during the greater part of which time he was in opposition ; but he never was ^discriminatingly violent in his politics, and frequently voted with Lord Liverpool's ministry. He took office under Mr. Canning as Under- Secretary for Ire- land, and remained in office under Lord Goderich. He was after- wards dismissed by the Duke of Wellington, in consequence of his vote in favour of the disfranchisement of East Retford. On the 22nd of July, 1828, in consequence of his father's death, he became Lord Melbourne, and a member of the House of Peers. He was Home Secretary under Earl Grey ; and while he held that office he signalised himself by great resolution and personal courage in putting down the disgraceful Calthorpe-street Riots. In July 1834, on the resignation of Earl Grey, Lord Melbourne became Premier. He retired in the November of the same year ; but on the fall of the short-lived Peel ministry, in 1845, Lord Melbourne again became Prime Minister of England, and retained that position till 1841. Lord Melbourne died in November 1848. Without entering into his political merits or demerits, it may be safely stated of him that he was possessed of many estimable and of very many amiable qualities. He was a good scholar, and kept up his classical read- ing to the last. He was also well acquainted with modern litera- ture. Lord Melbourne, at the time of his death, was in his seventieth year. Among the Prelates who were educated at Eton during this century, were BISHOP BARRINGTON. SHUTE, the sixth son of John, Lord Barrington, was born at Becket, in Berkshire, and educated at Eton and Oxford. On the accession of George the Third, he was nominated one of the Chap- lains in ordinary, and in 176] was made a Canon of Christ-church. In 1768, after receiving a variety of minor appointments, he was consecrated Bishop of Llandaff. In 1781 he was translated from that see to the see of Salisbury, and ten years afterwards, BISHOP LLOYD. 479 succeeded Bishop Thurlow in the see of Durham. He filled this latter bishopric for a period of thirty-five years, having attained the great age of ninety-two. Few prelates have been more universally respected. (Cunningham's Biog. Diet.} BISHOP LLOYD. DR. LLOYD'S father was rector of Ashton-sub-Edge, in Glouces- tershire, and head of a well-known private academy at Peterley House. The future bishop was born at Downley, in Bucks, in 1784. He was educated at Eton and Oxford, and took the first place in a severe examination for the degree of B. A. in 1806. In 1819 he was named preacher at Lincoln's Inn, and appointed chaplain to the Archbishop of Canterbury. In 1822, on the death of Dr. Hodgson, he was appointed Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford. On the death of Bishop Legge, in 1827, Dr. Lloyd was elevated to the see of Oxford ; but he enjoyed his high dignity only two years. He died on the 31st of May, 1829. Bishop Lloyd was considered by his Eton contemporaries to be one of the ablest scholars ever known in the school. His eloquence in the House of Lords during the short time that he sate there, commanded universal admiration. Other Etonian dignitaries of the Church, whose names I find recorded in the "AhmmiEtonenses," between!700 and 1800, are: EDWARD YOUNG, who went from Eton to King's in 1742. He was made Bishop of Dromore in 1763, of Ferns in 1765. JOHN EWER (King's, in 1723), Bishop of Llaiidaff in 1761, of Bangor in 1768. GEORGE LEWIS JONES (King's, 1741), Bishop of Kilmore in 1774. THOMAS DAMPIER (King's, 1766), who became Bishop, first of Rochester, then of Ely. JoHNLuxMooRE (King's, 1 7 7 6), Bishop of Hereford and St. Asaph. There are also two Judges among the Alumni of this century, besides Sir Vicary Gibbs and Sir James Mansfield. One of them is HENRY DAMPIER, who left Eton for King's College in 1776, and became one of the Judges in the Court of King's Bench. The other is of earlier date ; JAMES HAYES, who went to King's College in 1733. He was made one of the Judges for AVales. ARCHDEACON Cox, the historian of Sir Robert Walpole and 4SO PROVOSTS OF ETON. of Marlborough, and the author of several valuable works on German and Spanish history, was an Etonian of this period. He became a scholar of King's College in 1737. The names of the Provosts of Eton, after the seventeenth century, are : HENRY BLAND, D.D., February 10, 1732. Admitted into King's College from Eton, in 1695 ; Chaplain to King George I. and to Chelsea Hospital; Head Master of Eton from 1720 to 1728 ; Canon of Windsor in 1723 ; Dean of Durham in 1727. Died May 24, 1746. Buried in Eton Chapel. STEPHEN SLEECH, D.D., June 4, 1746. Admitted into King's College from Eton, in 1723; Fellow of Eton, March 17, 1729; Chaplain to the King; Rector of Farnham Royal, then of Worplesdon. Died October 8, 1765. EDWARD BARNARD, D.D., October 25, 1765. Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge; Head Master of Eton in 1756; Rector of Footscray and Ospring, Kent, 1756 ; Canon of Windsor in 1760, and Chaplain to the King. Died in 1781. WILLIAM HAYWARD ROBERTS, D.D., December 12, 1781. Admitted into King's College, 1752 ; Assistant Master of Eton, 1757; Members' Prize at Cambridge in 1758; Fellow of Eton, February 19, 1771; Chaplain to the King; Rector of Farnham Royal. Died December 19, 1791, set. 58. Buried at Eton. JONATHAN DAVIES, D.D., December 14, 1791. Admitted into King's College, 1755; Assistant at Eton, and Head Master in 1773; Canon of Windsor in 1781; resigned when Provost, in 1791 : founder of an University Scholarship in Cambridge, and two Exhibitions, one for a Scholar of King's College, the other for a Superannuated Eton Scholar ; also Task and Declamation Prizes. Died December 1809. Buried at Eton. JOSEPH GOODALL, D.D., December 21, 1809. Admitted into King's College in 1778 ; Assistant of Eton in 1 783 ; Head Master in 1801 ; Canon of Windsor, 1808 ; Rector of East Ilsley, Berks, and Hitcham, Bucks ; founded an Exhibition, value 60 per annum, for a Superannuated Eton Scholar. Died March 25, 1840. FRANCIS HODGSON, B.D., May 5, 1840. Admitted at King's College in 1799; Assistant Master in 1807; resigned the same year ; formerly Archdeacon of Derby, Vicar of Bakewell, and of Edensor ; Rector of Cottisford. (Registrum Regale.) CHAPTER V. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Percy Bysshe Shelley Winthrop Mackworth Praed Changes and Improvements at Eton The Newcastle Scholarship The New Buildings Prince Alhert's Prize Eminent Etonians now living. PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. IT has often been observed, that the biographies of men of high poetical genius are too frequently bitterly painful subjects. I know of no instance in which the truth of this observation is more strongly exemplified than in the life of Percy Bysshe Shelley. The sorrow which we feel for his sufferings, and the humiliation which we experience at witnessing his errors, are not checked by contempt for any such basenesses as those which alienate our sympathies from Rousseau ; nor are they counteracted by disgust, such as we feel with the coarse licentiousness of Marlow, Savage, or Byron. Shelley was gentle, affectionate, sincere, pre-eminently unselfish, simple in his habits, and austerely pure in his morals. Yet was his life one long scene of misery to himself and to many others ; and his works, with all their beauty, pathos, and power, have, it is feared, too often proved sources of misery to imperfectly instructed readers. Shelley's poetry has had, and must continue to have, far too great an influence on our literature, to make it possible to omit his name in any work which professes to enumerate the great writers of any institution to which he ever belonged, or, indeed, in any series of memoirs of the English poets. Many of his contemporaries, and nearly all the poetical writers of any eminence since his time, bear visible traces of how much they imbued themselves with Shelley's poetry. I will mention, as instances of this, Keats, Miss Landon, Monckton Milnes, Browning, and Tennyson. No one, indeed, who is unacquainted with Shelley, can be aware of the full richness and melody of our language. Extracts from Shelley will be sure to fill a large space in those collections of specimens, by 482 PERCY BYRSHK SHELLEY. which alone the greater part of the poets of the nineteenth century (like the greater part of the poets of the Elizabethan era) will hereafter be known by the majority of readers. Percy Bysshe Shelley was born at Field Place, near Horsham, in Sussex, on the 4th of August, 1792. He was drowned in the bay of Spezia, in the Mediterranean, on the 8th of July, 1822. This early death should be remembered by all who sit in judgment either on his writings or his actions. Coleridge has said of Lucan, that there ought to be written on every copy of the Pharsalia that its author was only twenty -four at the time of his death. So should it be emphatically recorded of Shelley that he was not thirty when he died. How many men, to whom a longer space has been allotted, have lived up to and beyond that age in folly, error, and guilt, but have commanded the admiration of posterity by the piety and wisdom of their later years ! The Shelleys, of Field Place, are a younger branch of that old county family of that name. Percy Bysshe Shelley's grandfather was made a Baronet in 1806. Sir Bysshe was a successful fortune- hunter in youth, and a recluse miser in old age. His son, Sir Timothy, the father of the poet, was an ill-educated, ill-conditioned, ill-judging man ; lax in principle, loose in practice, but a rigid stickler for conventionalities. Captain Medwin, who knew the family well, says of him : "He was a disciple of Chesterfield and La Bochefoucault, reducing all politeness to forms, and moral virtue to expediency : his religious opinions were also very lax ; although he occasionally went to the parish church, and made his servants regularly attend divine service : he possessed no true devotion himself, and incul- cated none to his son and heir, so that much of Percy Bysshe's scepticism may be traced to early example, if not to precept." Before Shelley was sent to Eton, he was placed for some time at a large private school called Sion House Academy. Some of the passages in Shelley's poetry in which he speaks of sufferings under- gone by him in boyhood, have been supposed to refer to Eton ; and while Shelley has been abused by some writers for hating Eton, Eton has been abused by other writers for being hated by Shelley. But the fact is, that Shelley in these passages was alluding not to Eton, but to Sion House Academy a place where, as at most large private schools, there was infinitely more oppression practised by the strong towards the weak than can ever take place under our TERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. public school system. Medwin, who was Shelley's schoolfellow at Sion House, expressly states this. Shelley, when a boy, was tall for his age, slightly and delicately built, and almost femininely gentle and sensitive. He was fond of the classics, with which he ultimately became accurately as well as extensively acquainted. But he loved to give up his regular studies for some wild German romance, or, still better, for some chemical or electrical experiment. Mr. Moultrie, after his descrip- tion of Gray the poet (which I have already quoted), thus beauti- fully describes Shelley's position and habits while at Eton : " Years came and went ; beside the poet's tomb, The flowers of many a spring had bloom'd and died, When times of fierce convulsion, rage, and gloom, Arose, and shook the nations far and wide. then, my Mother, by the verdant side Of thy bright river, lost in dreamy mood, Was seen a stripling pale and lustrous-eyed, Who far apart his lonely path pursued, And seem'd in sullen guise o'er troublous thoughts to brood. " Small sympathy he own'd or felt, I ween, With sports and pastimes of his young compeers, Nor mingling in their studies oft was seen, Nor shared their joys or sorrows, hopes or fears ; Pensive he was, and grave beyond his years, And happiest seem'd when in some shady nook, (His wild sad eyes suffused with silent tears,) O'er some mysterious and forbidden book He pored, until his frame with strong emotion shook. " Strange were his studies, and his sports no less. Full oft, beneath the blazing summer noon, The sun's convergent rays, with dire address, He turn'd on some old tree, and burnt it soon To ashes ; oft at eve the fire balloon, Inflated by his skill, would mount on high ; And when tempestuous clouds had veil'd the moon, And lightning rent, and thunder shook the sky, He left his bed, to gaze on Nature's revelry." On leaving Eton, Shelley was placed at University College, Oxford. Here he read more wildly and discursively than even before ; and the more strange the book, and the more unlawful the topic, the greater was the delight that he experienced in its perusal. This is but a common trait in human nature. But Shelley's impulsive and susceptible spirit adopted the tone of whatever, for the time, excited it. Hence he threw together disquisitions, trains of bold queries, and wild speculations, which his maturer judgment afterwards condemned, but which he for the moment, ii 2 PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. not only professed himself, but strove to impress upon others. This lead him to compose, and show to some of his acquaintances, a poem tainted with the worst essence of the worst French school. This poem was afterwards surreptitiously printed and published, to the great grief of the author, who publicly stated that he had learned how erroneous it was " in all that concerns morals and political speculations, as well as in the subtler discriminations of metaphysical and religious doctrines." Shelley sent copies of one of his speculative compositions of this class to several of the university authorities. They were anony- mous, but the author was soon discovered, and Shelley was expelled from his college. Soon after this, he committed the folly of marrying, with hardly any previous acquaintance, a young lady who was in the same boarding-school as one of his sisters. His father refused to see him, or to allow him to return home ; and he and his young wife went to the neighbourhood of Keswick. Here Shelley became acquainted with Southey ; and there is a letter of Southey's of this period, in which he is spoken of in terms which it is just to both poets to quote. Southey says, " Here is a man at Keswick, who acts upon me as my own ghost would do. He is just what I was in 1794. His name is Shelley, son to the member for Shoreham; with 6000Z. a-year entailed upon him, and as much more in his father's power to cut off. Beginning with romances of ghosts and murder, and with poetry at Eton, he passed, at Oxford, into metaphysics ; printed half-a-dozen pages, which he entitled ' The Necessity of Atheism/ sent one anonymously to Copleston, in expectation, I suppose, of converting him ; was expelled in conse- quence ; married a girl of seventeen, after being turned out of doors by his father ; and here they both are, in lodgings, living upon 200/. a-year, which her father allows them. He is come to the fittest physician in the world. At present he has got to the Pantheistic stage of philosophy, and in the course of a week I expect he will be a Berkleyan, for I have put him upon a course of Berkeley. It has surprised him a good deal to meet, for the first time in his life, with a man who perfectly understands him, and does him full justice. I tell him that all the difference between us is, that he is nineteen and I am thirty-seven; and I dare say, it will not be very long before I shall succeed in convincing him that he may be a true philosopher, and do a great PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 485 deal of good, with 6000Z. a-year ; the thought of which troubles him a great deal more at present than ever the want of sixpence (for I have known such a want) did me God help us ! the world wants mending, though he did not set about it exactly in the right way." Most unfortunately for Shelley, a series of domestic calamities soon drove him from the healing influence of Southey's advice and society. His marriage had proved, in every respect, most ill- assorted and unhappy. He and his wife separated by mutual consent, and some time after this had occurred, Shelley received the dreadful tidings that his wife had destroyed herself. Her father applied to the Chancellor, Lord Eldon, to take away the children of the marriage from Shelley, on the ground that his impious character made it unfit that he should be entrusted with their education. The principal proof adduced in respect of this was the poem, to which reference has already been made, as having been composed by Shelley while at Oxford, (before he was eighteen,) and which had been surreptitiously printed and published. It was untruly stated to the Chancellor that Shelley himself had published it since the marriage. How Shelley shaped his defence, we know not. Probably he was irritated into the profession of such tenets as would be sure to shock Lord Eldon the most. Shelley loathed the semblance of hypocrisy, and in avoiding it sometimes ran into the error of avowing even more than could be truly charged against him. The result was, that Shelley was deprived of his children, and he never saw them more. He felt this bereavement most bitterly ; and many of his subsequent extravagances in political and religious speculations arose from the tumult and agony of his spirit under what he deemed the persecuting oppression caused by the institutions of his country. Shelley afterwards contracted a second marriage, which was in every respect as fortunate as the first had been calamitous. His second wife was the daughter of the celebrated Godwin ; and in his union with this highly gifted and amiable lady, Shelley found the only source of happiness that he ever experienced during his brief but much-suffering existence. Shelley had acquired at Eton a love of boating, which always made him choose his residence near the banks of some river or by the sea-side. He was a deep admirer of the scenery of the Thames ; and for the greater part of the time which he spent in 486 PERCY BYSSHK SIIKLLKY. England after his second marriage, he resided at Marlow, near Windsor. One of his longest poems (the " Revolt of Islam ") was composed here. In the dedication of it to his wife he beautifully refers to the spot where it was written : " So now my summer-task is ended, Mary, And I return to thee, mine own heart's home ; As to his Queen some victor Knight of Faery, Earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome ; Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame become A star among the stars of mortal night, If it indeed may cleave its natal gloom, Its doubtful promise thus I would unite With thy beloved name, thou Child of love and light. " The toil which stole from thee so many an hour, Is ended, and the fruit is at thy feet ! No longer where the woods to frame a bower With interlaced branches mix and meet, Or where with sound like many voices sweet, Water-falls leap among wild islands green, Which framed for my lone boat a lone retreat Of moss-grown trees and weeds, shall I be seen : But beside thee, where still my heart has ever been." With the exception of this residence at Marlow, and some brief tours in other parts of England, Shelley resided abroad after his second marriage. We have from his pen many exquisite descrip- tions of Swiss and Italian scenery. He continued to be an inde- fatigable student of the modern literature of England and other countries, and he kept up his study of the classics with earnest love, Plato, JEschylus, and Sophocles being his favourite authors. I will extract a remark of his on the (Edipus Tyrannus, which will serve to show how accurate and observant a student Shelley became ; and which may perhaps serve to remind others, besides myself, of the watchfulness and minute attention with which we must read Sophocles in order to appreciate the merits of that great poet. Mrs. Shelley, in a note written after Shelley's death, says : " I find in one of his manuscript books some remarks on a line in the (Edipus Tyrannus, which shows at once the critical subtlety of Shelley's mind, and explains his apprehension of those ' minute and remote distinctions of feeling, whether relative to external nature or the living beings which surround us/ which he pronounces, in the letter quoted in the note to the ' Revolt of Islam/ to comprehend all that is sublime in man. PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. In the Greek Shakspeare, Sophocles, we find the image, 487 ir\avois. A line of almost unfathomable depth of poetry, yet how simple are the images in which it is arrayed, Coming to many ways in the wanderings of careful thought. If the Avords obovs and TrAawus had not been used, the line might have been explained in a metaphorical instead of an absolute sense, as we say, 'ways and means/ and wanderings for error and confusion; but they meant literally paths or roads, such as we tread with our feet ; and wanderings, such as a man makes when he loses himself in a desert, or roams from city to city, as QEdipus, the speaker of this verse, was destined to wander, blind and asking charity. What a picture does this line suggest of the mind as a wilderness of intricate paths, wide as the universe, which is here made its symbol, a world within a world, which he, who seeks some knowledge with respect to what he ought to do, searches through- out, as he would search the external universe for some valued thing which was hidden from him upon its surface." Shelley perished, as I have before mentioned, in 1822. In the month of June in that year he was residing near Lerici, a small town on the coast of the Bay of Spezia. He set sail from there on the 30th of that month with a friend, Captain Williams, and one seaman, in an open boat, to welcome Leigh Hunt, who had arrived at Leghorn. Mr. Trelawney, a friend of Lord Byron's, who had recently become acquainted with Shelley, has given the following particulars of his fate : "Their boat had been built for Mr. Shelley at Genoa, by a captain in the navy. It was twenty-four feet long, eight in the beam, schooner-rigged, with gaft topsails, &c., and drew four feet water. On Monday, the 8th of July, at an early hour, they got under weigh to return home, having on board a quantity of house- hold articles, four hundred dollars, a small canoe, and some books and manuscripts. At half-past twelve they made all sail out of the harbour with a light and favourable breeze, steering direct for Spezia. I had likewise weighed anchor to accompany them a few miles out in Lord Byron's schooner, the Bolivar ; but there was some demur about papers from the guard-boat ; and they, fearful of losing the breeze, sailed without me. I re-anchored, and watched my friends, till their boat became a speck on the horizon, 488 ri:i;cv BYSSHE SHELLEY. which was growing thick and dark, with heavy clouds moving rapidly, and gathering in the south-west quarter. I then retired to the cabin, where I had not been half an hour, before a man on deck told me a heavy squall had come on. We let go another anchor. The boats and vessels in the roads were scudding past us in all directions, to get into the harbour ; and in a moment it blew a hard gale from the south-west, the sea, from excessive smooth- ness, foaming, breaking, and getting up into a very heavy swell. The wind, having shifted, was now directly against my friends. I felt confident they would be obliged to bear off for Leghorn ; and being anxious to hear of their safety, stayed on board till a late hour, but saw nothing of them. The violence of the wind did not continue above an hour ; it then gradually subsided ; and at eight o'clock, when I went on shore, it was almost a calm. It however blew hard at intervals during the night, with rain, and thunder and lightning. The lightning struck the mast of a vessel close to us, shivering it to splinters, killing two men, and wounding others. From these circumstances, becoming greatly alarmed for the safety of the voyagers, a note was despatched to Mr. Shelley's house at Lerici, the reply to which stated that nothing had been heard of him and his friend ; which augmented our fears to such a degree, that couriers were despatched on the whole line of coast from Leghorn to Nice, to ascertain if they had put in any where, or if there had been any wreck, or indication of losses by sea. I immediately started for Via Reggio, having lost sight of the boat in that direction. My worst fears were almost confirmed on my arrival there, by news that a small canoe, two empty water-barrels, and a bottle, had been found on the shore, which things I recog- nised as belonging to the boat. I had still, however, warm hopes that these articles had been thrown overboard to clear them from useless lumber in the storm ; and it seemed a general opinion that they had missed Leghorn, and put into Elba or Corsica, as nothing more was heard for eight days. This state of suspense becoming intolerable, I returned from Spezia to Via Reggio, where my worst fears were confirmed by the information that two bodies had been washed on shore, one on that night very near the town, which, by the dress and stature, I knew to be Mr. Shelley's. Mr. Keats's last volume of ( Lamia/ ' Isabella,' &c., being open in the jacket- pocket, confirmed it beyond a doubt. The body of Mr. Williams was subsequently found near a tower on the Tuscan shore, about PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 489 four miles from his companion. Both the bodies were greatly decomposed by the sea, but identified beyond a doubt. The seaman, Charles Vivian, was not found for nearly three weeks afterwards. His body was interred on the spot on which a wave had washed it, in the vicinity of Massa." As it was impossible to remove Shelley's body, it was burnt on the shore where it was found, and the ashes were deposited in the Protestant burial-ground at Rome, a spot of which Shelley had said that "it was so beautiful that it almost made one in love with death." A child of Shelley's had been buried there, and his friend Keats had been laid there not long before Shelley's own death. In Shelley's poem of Adonais, written in honour of Keats's memory, he has thus described the spot that was soon to hold his own remains : Go thou to Rome, at once the Paradise, The grave, the city, and the wilderness ; And where its wrecks like shatter'd mountains rise, And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress The bones of Desolation's nakedness Pass, till the Spirit of the spot shall lead Thy footsteps to a slope of green access, Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread, And grey walls moulder round, on which dull Time Feeds, like slow fire upon a hoary brand ; And one keen pyramid with wedge sublime, Pavilioning the dust of him who plann'd This refuge for his memory, doth stand Like flame transform'd to marble ; and beneath A field is spread, on which a newer band Have pitch'd in Heaven's smile their camp of death, Welcoming him we lose with scarce extinguish'd breath. Here, pause : these graves are all too young as yet To have outgrown the sorrow which consign'd Its charge to each ; and if the seal is set, Here, on one fountain of a mourning mind, Break it not thou ! too surely shalt thou find Thine own well full, if thou returnest home, Of tears and gall. From the world's bitter wind Seek shelter in the shadow of the tomb. What Adonais is, why fear we to become ? The One remains, the many change and pass ; Heaven's light for ever shines, Earth's shadows fly ; Life, like a dome of many-colour'd glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, 490 PERCY BYSS1IK SI1KLLKY. Until Death tramples it to fragments. Die, If thou wonldst be with that which thou dost seek ! Follow where all is fled ! Rome's azure sky, Flowers, ruins, statues, music, words are weak The glory they transfuse with fitting truth to speak. Why linger, why turn back, why shrink, my Heart ? Thy hopes are gone before : from all things here They have departed ; thou shouldst now depart ! A light is pass'd from the revolving year, And man, and woman ; and what still is dear Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither. The soft sky smiles, the low wind whispers near : 'Tis Adonais calls ! oh, hasten thither, No more let Life divide what Death can join together. That Light whose smile kindles the Universe, That Beauty in which all things work and move, That Benediction which the eclipsing Curse Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love Which through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality. The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me ; my spirit's bark is driven Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given ; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven ! I am borne darkly, fearfully afar ; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are. This long but beautiful extract from one of Shelley's latest poems shows how incorrect it is to attribute to him that denial of the soul's immortality, which is generally implied in the charge of Atheism. In truth he approached most nearly to the Idealism of Berkeley. I have mentioned, and already partly proved by quotations, Shelley's wonderful mastery over the English language and the exquisite melody of his rhythms. These qualities in a poet are most surely demonstrated when he is translating others, and when he is consequently compelled to find expressions for ideas which must follow in a defined order, and each of which must have an assigned share of prominence given to it. I will quote, therefore, some of Shelley's translations ; giving the original texts, in order to show the astonishing accuracy of the versions; though Shelley com- PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 491 pletely followed out his own canon, that " translations are intended for those who do not understand the originals, and that they should be purely English." FROM MOSCHUS. Tckv oAa rav y\avicav Srav S>vt/j.os arpffjM jSaAAp, Toy (fipfva. rav $ei\a.i> tpeBifrfiai, ovS" er fioi ya 'Ev-rl (f>i\a, irordyft Sf iro\u irKiov Hp^e ya\dva. 'AAA' &rav axVffj.os, a irirvs (jSei. T H Kaxov 6 ypiirfvs ^aiet )3iov, 56/*os a vavs, Kal irAvos evrl 6d\affffa, KO! \xOvs a trXdvos aypa. Avrap efj.o] y\vKvs VTTVOS inrb ir\a Kal irayas (pi\foifu r6v tyyvQw ?ix ov *A repiret tyotytoura r6v Hypiov, oi> When winds that move not its calm surface sweep The aznre sea, I love the land no more : The smiles of the serene and tranquil deep Tempt my unquiet mind. But when the roar Of ocean's grey abyss resounds, and foam Gathers upon the sea, and vast waves burst, I turn from the drear aspect to the home Of earth and its deep woods, where, interspersed, When winds blow loud, pines make sweet melody ; Whose house is some lone bark, whose toil the sea, Whose prey, the wandering fish, an evil lot Has chosen. But I my languid limbs will fling Beneath the plane, where the brook's murmuring Moves the calm spirit, but disturbs it not. FROM DANTE. (PURGATORIO. CANTO XXVIII.) Vago gia di cercar dentro e dintorno La divina foresta spessa e viva, Ch' agli occhi temperava il nuovo giorno, Senza piu aspettar lasciai la riva, Prendendo la campagna lento lento Su per lo suol che d' ogni parte oliva. l'n' aura dolce, senza mutamento Avere in se, mi feria per la fronte, Non di piu colpo che soave vento. * * * Gia m'avcan trasportato i lenti passi Dentro all' antica selva tanto, ch' io Non potea rivedere ond' io m' entrassi : Kd ccco il piu andar mi tolse uu rio, Che 'aver sinistrra con sue picciol' oude 1'iegava 1' erba che 'n suu ripa uscio. 492 PERCY BYSSIIH SIIKLLEY. Tutte 1' acque, che son di qua piii monde, Parrieno avere in se mistura alcuna Verso di quella che nulla nasconde, Avvegna che si muova bruna bruna Sotto 1' ombra perpetua, che mai Raggiar non lascia Sole ivi, ne Luna. Co' pie ristetti, e con gli occhi passai Di la dal numicel, per aramirare La gran var'iazion de' freschi mai : E la m' apparve, si com' egli appare Subitamente cosa che disvia Per maraviglia tutt' altro pensare, Una donna soletta, che si gia Cantando, ed iscegliendo nor da fiore, Ond' era pinta tutta la sua via. Deh ! bella donna, ch' a' raggi d' amore Ti scaldi, s' io vo' credere a' sembianti, Che soglion esser testimon del cuore, Vegnati voglia di trarreti avanti, Diss' io a lei, verso questa riviera, Tanto ch' io possa intender che tu canti. Tu mi fai rimembrar dove e qual' era Proserpina nel tempo che perdette La madre lei, ed ella primavera. " Now earnest to explore within around That divine wood, whose thick green living roof Temper'd the young day to the sight, I wound Up a green slope, beneath the starry 'roof With slow slow steps leaving the mountain's steep, And sought those leafy labyrinths, motion-proof Against the air, that in that stillness, deep And solemn, struck upon my forehead bare, Like a sweet breathing of a child in sleep. Already had I lost myself so far, Amid that tangled wilderness, that I Perceived not where I enter'd but no fear Of wandering from my way disturbed, when nigh, A little stream appear'd ; the grass that grew Thick on its banks, impeded suddenly My going on. Water of purest dew On earth, would appear turbid and impure, Compared with this whose unconcealing hue, Dark dark yet clear, moved under the obscure Of the close boughs, whose interwoven looms No ray of moon or sunshine would endure. My feet were motionless, but mid the glooms Darted my charmed eyes, contemplating The mighty multitude of fresh May-blooms PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 493 That starr'd that might ; when even as a thing That suddenly for blank astonishment Charms every sense, and makes all thoughts take wing, Appear'd a solitary maid she went Singing and gathering flower after flower, With which her way was painted and besprent. Bright lady ! who if looks had ever power To hear true witness of the heart within, Dost bask under the beams of love, come lower Unto this bank I pray thee, let me win This much of thee O come ! that I may hear Thy song : like Proserpine, in Enna's glen, Thou seemest to my fancy, singing here, And gathering flowers as that fair maiden, when She lost the spring, and Ceres her more dear." The next is from the " Magico Prodigioso " of Calderon. It is part of the scene where the voices of evil spirits tempt Justina. Just. Pesada imaginacion, Al parecer lisonjera, j Cundo te he dadofocasion, Para que de esta manera Aflijas mi corazon ? I Cual es la causa, en rigor, De este fuego, de este ardor, Que en mi por instantes crece ? j Que dolor el que padece Mi sentido ! Tod. (Cant.) Amor, amor. Just. Aquel ruiseuor amante Es quien respuesta me da, Enamorando constante A' su consorte, que est^ Un ramo mas adelante. Calla, ruisenor ; no aqui Imaginar me hagas ya, Por las quejas que te of, Como un hombre sentira, Si siente un pajaro asi. Mas no ; una vid fue lasciva, Que buscando fugitiva Val el tronco donde se enlace, Siendo el verdor con que abrace, El peso con que derriba. No asi con verdes abrazos Me hagas pensar en quien amas, Vid ; que dudare" en tus lazos, Si asi abrazan unas ramas, Como enraman unos brazos [Asombrada e inquieta. [Sosiigase mas. 4.9-i PERCY BYSS1IK SHELLEY. Y si no es la vid, ser& Aquel girasol, quo est& Viendo cara d cara al sol, Tras cuyo hermoso arrcbol Siempre moviendose va. No sigas, no, tus enojos, Flor, con marchitos despojos ; Que pensaran mis congojas, Si asi lloran unas hojas, Como lloran unos ojos. Cesa, amante ruisenor, Desunete, vid frondosa, Pirate, inconstante flor, O decid, | que venenosa Fuerza usais ? Tod. (Cant.) Amor, amor. JUSTINA. Thou melancholy thought, which art So fluttering and so sweet, to thee When did I give the liberty Thus to afflict my heart ? What is the cause of this new power Which doth my fever'd being move, Momently raging more and more ? What subtle pain is kindled now Which from my heart doth overflow Into my senses ? ALL. Love, Love ! JUSTINA. 'Tis that enamour 1 d nightingale Who gives me the reply ; He ever tells the same soft tale Of passion and of constancy To his mate, who, rapt and fond, Listening sits, a bough beyond. Be silent, Nightingale no more Make me think, in hearing thee Thus tenderly thy love deplore, If a bird can feel his so, What a man would feel for me. And, voluptuous vine, O thou Who seekest most when least pursuing, To the trunk thou interlacest Art the verdure which embracest, And the weight which is its ruin, No more, with green embraces, vine, Make me think on what thou lovest, For whilst thus thy boughs entwine, I fear lest thou shouldst teach me, sophist, How arms might be entangled too. Light-enchanted sunflower, thou PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 495 Who gazest ever true and tender On the sun's revolving splendour, Follow not his faithless glance With thy faded countenance, Nor teach my beating heart to fear, If leaves can mourn without a tear, How eyes must weep ! Nightingale, Cease from thy enamour'd tale, Leafy vine, unwreathe thy bower, Restless sunflower, cease to move, Or tell me all, what poisonous power Ye use against me ALL. Love ! love ! love ! The last specimen which I shall give of Shelley's translations, is the celebrated " Song of the Archangels," in Goethe's "Faust :" SK o p f) a e I. Sic a flammt ein Sem 'Pfabe t>cr 2>cd) beine i?oten, $err, t'erc(>rcn SaS fanftc iCanbeln beincS 3 u 25 r e i. Sec Mnt'tiif fltOt ben Sngctn tacff, S"a teinev bidi ei-oriinben inayi, Unb alle bcinc hoben i'oeife inb ^errlid) line am erften 'Safl. I'.l.i PERCY IJYSSIIK S1I K U,KY. RAPHAEL. The sun makes music as of old Amid the rival spheres of Heaven, On its predestined circle roll'd With thunder speed : the Angels even Draw strength from gazing on its glance, Though none its meaning fathom may ;- The world's unwither'd countenance Is bright as at creation's day. And swift and swift, with rapid lightness, The adorned Earth spins silently, Alternating Elysian brightness With deep and dreadful night ; the sea Foams in broad billows from the deep Up to the rocks ; and rocks and ocean, Onward, with spheres which never sleep, Are hurried in eternal motion. MICHAEL. And tempests in contention roar From land to sea, from sea to land ! And, raging, weave a chain of power Which girds the earth as with a band. A flashing desolation there Flames before the thunder's way ; But thy servants, Lord, revere The gentle changes of thy day. CHORUS OF THE THREE. The Angels draw strength from thy glance, Though no one comprehend thee may ; The world's unwither'd countenance Is bright as on creation's day. The last passage that I shall extract here from Shelley is an original poem, which I quote both for its beauty, and because it feelingly pourtrays the wretchedness of the heart, which, however good and gentle towards its fellow-creatures, has made shipwreck of its faith. These stanzas were found among Shelley's other unfinished poems after his death ; and it will be seen that the first stanza had not received the author's final corrections. STANZAS, WRITTEN IN DEJECTION, NEAR NAPLES. THE sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon's transparent light : W1NTHROP MACK WORTH PRAED. 497 The breath of the moist air is light, Around its unexpanded buds ; Like many a voice of one delight, The winds, the birds, the ocean floods, The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's. I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple sea-weeds strown ; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, tlirown ; I sit upon the sands alone, The lightning of the noon-tide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet ! did any heart now share in my emotion. Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around, Nor that content surpassing wealth The sage in meditation found, And walk'd with inward glory crown'd Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround Smiling they live, and call life pleasure ; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its lust monotony. Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweut clay is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon grown old, Insults with this untimely moan ; They might lament for I am one Whom men love not, and yet reu'i'i't, Unlike this day, which, when the suu Shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger, though enjoy'd, like joy in memory yet. WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED was born in 1802. He died of consumption on the 15th of July, 1839. He had been member of Parliament for Aylesbury, St. Germain's, and Yarmouth, in successive Parliaments; and he had held the 498 WINTHBOP MACKWOETH rilAED. office of Secretary to the Board of Control, from December, 1834, to the April following. He was obliged to leave public life, and, as he himself expressed it, to retire to die, just as his eloquence and ability were winning for him a place in the first rank of one of the great parties in the State. It is principally as a poet that he will be remembered. Many beautiful poems, which he contributed to the temporary periodicals of the day, lie at present buried in defunct annuals and old maga- zines. They well deserve collection. I quote from memory one of them, a spirited poem on the meeting between Arminius and his brother, mentioned in the second book of the Annals of Tacitus. 1 I have not had the resolution to plunge into the Dead Sea of the Keepsakes, Souvenirs, &c., of twenty or twenty-three years ago, and probably my version may not be accurate ; but I believe that I recall The sense of what he wrote, although I mar The force of his expressions." ARMINIUS. Back, back ; he fears not foaming flood Who fears not steel-clad line : No warrior thou of German blood, No brother thou of mine. Go, earn Rome's chain to load thy neck, Her gems to deck thy hilt ; And blazon honour's hapless wreck With all the gauds of guilt. 1 ** Flumen Visurgis Romanes Cheruscosque interfluebat : ejus in ripa cum ceteris primoribus Arminius adstitit, quaesitoque ' an Caesar venisset ? ' postquam ' adesse ' responsum est, ' ut liceret cum fratre conloqui ' oravit. Erat is in exercitu cognomento Flavius, insignis fide, et amisso per vulnus oculo paucis ante annis, duce Tiberio : turn permissum ; progressusque salutatur ab Arminio : qui amotis stipatoribus, 'ut sagittnrii nostra pro ripa dispositi abscederent,' postulat ; et postquam digressi, ' unde ea defor- mitas oris ? ' interrogat fratrem : illo locum, et prselium referente, ' quodnam prsemium recepisset ? ' exquirit. Flavius ' aucta stipendia, torquem, et coronam, aliaque militaria dona ' memorat, inridente Arminio villa servitii pretia. Exin diversi ordiuntur : hie ' magnitudinem Romanam,'opes Caesaris, et victis graves pconas ; in deditionem venienti paratam clementiam ; neque conjugem et filiurn ejus hostiliter haberi.' Ille ' fas patrioe, libcrtatem avitam, penetrales Germanioo deos, matrem precum sociam ; ne propin- quorum et adfinium, denique gentis suoe deserter et proditor, quam imperator esse mallet.' Paulatim inde ad jurgia prolapsi, quominus pugnam consererent, ne flumine quidem interjecto cohibebantur ; ne Stertinius adcurreus, plenum irse, 'arinaquc et equum ' poscentem Flavium attinuisset. Cernebatur contra miuitabundus Arminius, prseliumque denuntians : nam pleraque Latino sermone interjaciebat, ut qui Romanis in castria ductor popularium meruisset." WINTHBOP MACKWORTH PRAED. 499 But wouldst tliou liave me share the prey ? By all that I have done, The Varian bones that day by day Lie whitening in the sun, The legion's trampled panoply, The eagle's shatter'd wing, 1 would not be for earth or sky So scorn'd and mean a thing. Ho, call me here the wizard, boy, Of dark and subtle skill, To agonise but not destroy, To torture, not to kill. When swords are out, and shriek and shout Leave little room for prayer, No fetter on man's arm or heart Hangs half so heavy there. I curse him by the gifts, the land Hath won from him and Rome, The riving axe, the wasting brand, Rent forest, blazing home. I curse him by our country's gods, The terrible, the dark, The breakers of the Roman rods, The smiters of the bark. Oh misery that such a ban On such a brow should be ! Why comes he not in battle's van His country's chief to be \ To stand a comrade by my side, The sharer of my fame, And worthy of a brother's pride And of a brother's name ? But it is past ! where heroes press And cowards bend the knee, Arminius is not brotherless, His brethren are the free. They come around : one hour, and light Will fade from turf and tide, Then onward, onward to the fight With darkness for our guide. To-night, to-night, when we shall meet In combat face to face, Then only would Arminius greet The renegade's embrace. The canker of Rome's guilt shall be Upon his dying name ; And as he lived in slavery, So shall he fall in shame. During Mr. Praed's brief parliamentary career, he was the author of many gracefully sarcastic pieces of political poetry, 500 WINTIIKOP MACKWORTH PRAED. which were very successful at the time, but which it is now almost impossible to trace out and collect. One, which I believe I remember pretty accurately, was : ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR IN ONE OK THF, DKliATES^ol Till-: riliST KKI OK.MKI) 1'AHI.I AMKXT. Sleep, Mr. Speaker, 'tis surely fair If you mayn't in your bed, that you should in your chair. Louder and longer now they grow, Tory and Radical, Aye and No; Talking by night, and talking by day. Sleep, Mr. Speaker; sleep while you may. Sleep, Mr. Speaker : slumber lies Light and brief on a Speaker's eyes. Fielden or Finn in a minute or two Some disorderly thing will do; Riot will chase repose away. Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may. Sleep, Mr. Speaker. Sweet to men Is the sleep that cometh but now and then, Sweet to the weary, sweet to the ill, Sweet to the children that work in the mill. You have more need of repose than they, Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may. Sleep, Mr. Speaker, Harvey will soon Move to abolish the sun and the moon; Hume will no doubt be taking the sense Of the House on a question of sixteen pence. Statesmen will howl, and patriots bray, Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may. Sleep, Mr. Speaker, and dream of the time, When loyalty was not quite a crime, When Grant was a pupil in Canning's school, And Palmerston fancied Wood a fool. Lord, how principles pass away ! Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may. Both at Cambridge and Eton (the two places of his education) Praed was highly distinguished as a scholar and a poet. I shall here speak only of his literary achievements while at Eton. He there was the editor and principal writer of " The Etonian/' the most brilliant of the numerous periodicals which have from time to time been conducted by students at the school. My last quota- tion (the last of the numerous ones contained in these pages) shall be from Praed's spirited description of the procession or rather "the race" of Eton boats by water, and Eton cavaliers and pedestrians by land, to Surly Hall on the evening of Election WIXTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. 501 Saturday. This was the last poem that Praed wrote while at Eton, and its concluding lines have found and yet will find an echo in many a heart. The sun hath shed a mellower beam, Fair Thames, upon thy silvery stream, And air and water, earth and heaven, Lie in the calm repose of even. How silently the breeze moves on, Flutters, and whispers, and is gone How calmly does the quiet sky Sleep in its cold serenity I Alas ! how sweet a scene were here For shepherd or for sonneteer ; How fit the place, how fit the time, For making love, or making rhyme ! But though the sun's descending ray Smiles warmly on the close of day, 'Tis not to gaze upon the light That Eton's sons are here to-night ; And though the river, calm and clear, Makes music to the poet's ear, 'Tis not to listen to the sound That Eton's sons are thronging round. The sun unheeded may decline, Blue eyes send out a brighter shine ; The wave may cease its gurgling moan, Glad voices have a sweeter tone ; For, in our calendar of bliss, We have no hour so gay as this, When the kind hearts and brilliant eyes Of those we know, and love, and prize, Are come to cheer the captive's thrall, And smile upon his festival. Stay, Pegasus, and let me ask, Ere I go onward in my task, Pray, reader, were you ever here Just at this season of the year I No ? then the end of next July Should bring you, with admiring eye, To hear us row, and see us row, And cry, " How fast them boys does go ! " Lord ! what would be the cynic's mirth, If fate would lift him to the earth, And set his tub, with magic jump, Squat down beside the Brocas clump ! What scoffs the sage would utter there, From his unpolish'd elbow-chair, To see the sempstress' handy-work, The Greek confounded with the Turk, Parisian mix'd with Piedmontese, And Persian joiu'd to Portuguese ; 502 WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. And mantles short, and mantles long, And mantles right, and mantles wrong, Misshaped, miscolour'd, and misplaced, With what the tailor calls a taste. And then the badges, and the boats, The flags, the drums, the paint, the boats ; But more than these, and more than all, The pullers' intermitted call, " Easy ! " " Hard all ! " " Now pick her; up ! " " Upon my life, how I shall sup ! " * * * The boats put off ! throughout the crowd The tumult thickens ; wide and loud The din re-echoes ; man and horse Plunge onward in their mingled course. Look at the troop : I love to see Our real Etonian Cavalry ; They start in such a pretty trim, And such sweet scorn of life and limb. I must confess I never found A horse much worse for being sound ; I wish my Nag not wholly blind, And like to have a tail behind ; And though he certainly may hear Correctly with a single ear, I think, to look genteel and neat, He ought to have his two complete. But these are trifles ! off they go Beside the wondering River's flow ; And if, by dint of spur and whip, They shamble on, without a trip, Well have they done ! I make no question They 're shaken into good digestion. I and my Muse, my Muse and I, Will follow with the Company, And get to Surly Hall in time To make a Supper, and a Rhyme. Hark ! hark ! a mellow'd note Over the water seem'd to float ! Hark ! the note repeated ! A sweet, and soft, and soothing strain, Echoed, and died, and rose again, As if the Nymphs of Fairy reign Were holding to-night their revel rout, And pouring their fragrant voices out, On the blue waters seated. Hark to the tremulous tones that flow, And the voice of the boatmen, as they row ! Cheerfully to the heart they go, And touch a thousand pleasant strings, WIXTIIROP MACKWORTII PRAED. Of Triumph, and Pride, and Hope, and Joy, And thoughts that arc only known to Boy, And young Imaginings ! The note is near, the Voice comes clear, And we catch its Echo on the ear, With a feeling of delight ; And as the gladdening sounds we hear, There's many an eager listener here, And many a straining sight. One moment, and ye see Where, fluttering quick, as the breezes blow, Backwards and forwards, to and fro ; Bright with the beam of retiring day, Old Eton's flag, on its watery way Moves on triumphantly ; But what, that Ancient Poets have told, Of Amphitrite's Car of Gold With the Nymphs behind, and the Nymphs before, And the Nerid's song, and the Triton's roar, Could equal half the pride, That heralds the Monarch's plashing oar, Over the swelling tide I And look ! they land, those gallant crews, With their jackets light, and their bellying trews ; Yet e'en on this triumphant day One thought of grief will rise ; And though I bid my fancy play, And jest, and laugh through all the lay, Yet sadness still will have her way, And burst the vain disguise ! Yes ! when the pageant shall have past, I shall have look'd upon my last ; I shall not e'er behold again Our pullers' unremitted strain ; Nor listen to the charming cry Of contest or of victory, That speaks what those young bosoms feel, As keel is pressing fast on keel ; Oh ! bright these glories still shall be, But they shall never dawn for me. 50<1 EMINENT ETONIANS Nd\V LIVING. I have purposely avoided giving any account in these two last Chapters of the general progress of the School in modern times, or of its present system. Etonians do not require it, and I could not make the subject intelligible to non-Etonians without going into details too minute and prolix for these pages. Suffice it to say, that Eton has continued to flourish, and never stood higher than she does now. I will only allude o three recent events ; the munificent foundation of a Divinity and Classical Scholarship by his Grace the Duke of Newcastle in 1829, whereby a great stimulus was given to increased study throughout the School; the erection of new buildings for the accommodation of the Collegers, and the great ameliorations of their condition, which were effected in 1844; and to the recent institution by His Royal Highness Prince Albert of a prize for proficiency in modern lan- guages. If the province of the Memoir-writer were not limited to the biographies of the dead, I should now be very far from the con- clusion of my work. Living Etonians are eminent in every rank of life, in every profession, in every department of literature and science. I will only name a few, but the list might be pro- longed through several pages. Eton claims as her sons the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of Winchester and Lichfield, the Duke of Wellington, Lord Denraan, Lord Stanley, Lord Ellen- borough, Lord Carlisle, Lord Lyttelton, and many more of the most eminent members of the British Peerage. Among the names of her most distinguished Commoners of the present day, that most readily occur to the memory, are those of Sir Stratford Canning, Mr. Justice Coleridge, Mr. Gladstone, Hallam, Milman, Moultrie, Mr. Justice Patteson, and Vice-Chancellor Shadwell. With heart- felt gratitude and pride I look on the time-honoured walls where so much of the worth of four centuries has been nurtured ; and in confidence, as well as in sincerity, I repeat the old wish that so many lips have uttered, and which will be fervently breathed by so many thousands more, FLOREAT ETONA ! BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTKHS, U'HITKKR IARS. THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. 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