STATESMEN 
 
 TIMES OF GEORGE III,
 
 £iunu*»i «r ( 
 
 IL'OIR© dHATMAM. 
 
 
 i//^Kfy a'"^' ' frA . 
 
 
 V^^^? 
 
 /..•iJi.-n l-utUlh.^ l< fi.„l., .
 
 Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN 
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCHES 
 
 STATESMEN 
 
 WHO FLOURISHED IN 
 
 THE TIME OF GEORGE III. 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED. 
 
 REMARKS ON PARTY, AND AN APPENDIX. 
 
 FIRST SERIES. 
 
 HENRY LORD BROUGHAM, F.R.S., 
 
 AVn MKMBKR OF THE NATIONAl. INSTITUTK nF FRAN'CK. 
 
 LON DON: 
 
 CHARLES KNIGHT & CO., LUDGATE STREET. 
 
 MDCCCXXXIX.
 
 / 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 I'linteti by Wij-i-iam Clowes and Suns, 
 
 Stamford Street.
 
 n j\ IJBRARY 
 
 UNIVFPRTTY OF CALIFORNIA 
 ^O'C SANTA BARBARA • ' 
 
 V 
 
 THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED 
 ro 
 
 MARY ANNE, BARONESS BROUGHAM 
 
 AS A 
 
 TOKEN OF THE AFFECTION, 
 
 RESPECT, AND ESTEEM, 
 ov 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 
 Pack 
 
 Introduction .... 
 
 1 
 
 George II[. .... 
 
 5 
 
 Lord Ch.\tham .... 
 
 17 
 
 Lord North .... 
 
 48 
 
 Lord Loughborough 
 
 . 70 
 
 Lord Thurlow .... 
 
 88 
 
 Lord Mansfield 
 
 . 100 
 
 Lord Chief Justice Gibbs 
 
 . 124 
 
 Sir William Grant 
 
 . 135 
 
 Mr. Buhke .... 
 
 . 142 
 
 Mr. Fox 
 
 . 178 
 
 Mr. Pitt .... 
 
 . 195 
 
 Mr. Sheridan .... 
 
 . 210 
 
 Mr. Windham . . . 
 
 . 219 
 
 Mr. Dundas .... 
 
 . 227 
 
 Mr. Erskine .... 
 
 . 236 
 
 Mr. Perceval .... 
 
 . 246 
 
 Lord Grenville .... 
 
 . 254
 
 VI u 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 Pack 
 
 Mr. Grattan .... 
 
 . 260 
 
 A[r. Wilberforce 
 
 . 2G9 
 
 Mr. Canning .... 
 
 . 271 
 
 Sir Samuel Romilly 
 
 . 290 
 
 Effects of Party 
 
 . 298 
 
 Fr\nklin ..... 
 
 . 314 
 
 Frederic II. .... 
 
 . 320 
 
 GUSTAVVS III. 
 
 . 346 
 
 The Emperor Joseph . 
 
 . 359 
 
 The Empress Catherine 
 
 313 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 I. Note on this Work .... 389 
 
 II. CoM.MUNICATlON HESPECTTNG LoRD ChaTHAM . 389 
 
 III. Letter from Lady Charlotte Lindsay on 
 
 Lord North ..... 391 
 
 IV. Statement of the case between Qieen 
 
 Elizabeth and Mary Queen of Scots . 398
 
 STATESMEN 
 
 OF THE 
 
 TIMES OF GEORGE III. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The affairs of men, the interests and the history of 
 nations, the rehitive vahie of institutions as discovered 
 by their actual working, the merits of different systems 
 of policy as tried by their effects, are all very imperfectly 
 examined without a thorough knowledge of the indivi- 
 duals who administered the systems and presided over 
 the management of the public concerns. The history 
 of empires is, indeed, the histoiy of men, not only of the 
 nominal rulers of the people, but of all the leading per- 
 sons who exerted a sensible influence over the destinies 
 of their fellow-creatures, whether the traces of that in- 
 fluence sunived themselves, or, as in the case of lesser 
 minds, their power was confined to their own times. 
 
 But, in another view, this kind of inquiry, this species 
 of record, is even more important. Not only the world 
 at large is thus instructed, but the cbaracter of statesmen 
 and rulers is improved. Examples are held up of the 
 faults which they are to avoid, and of the \'irtues which 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 they are to cultivate. Nor can history ever be the school 
 of potentates, whether on or near the throne, unless the 
 character and the conduct of their predecessors be tho- 
 roughly scrutinized. This task has been attempted 
 in the foUowmg work, which aspires, therefore, to a 
 higher office than merely amusuig the vacant hours of 
 the idle (the hours a little more unemployed than the 
 bulk of their time), and aims at recording, for the warn- 
 ing or for the encouragement of the great, the errors or 
 the wisdom, the vices or the virtues, of their predecessors. 
 It is a well-meant contribution, of which the merit is very 
 humbly rated by its author, to the fund of Useful Know- 
 ledge as applied to the Education of those upon whose 
 information or ignorance the fortunes of mankind in an 
 especial manner depend. But, how moderate soever may 
 be the merits of the contributor, the value of the contri- 
 l)ution cannot easily be estimated too highly, if, by only 
 stating the facts with careful accuracy, and drawing the 
 inferences with undeviating candour, those who volun- 
 tarily assume the government of nations are taught to 
 regard their duties as paramomit to their interests, and 
 made to learn that ignorance of their craft is in their 
 callmg criminal, by having placed before their eyes the 
 examples of others — their signal punishment to deter 
 from vice, their glorious reward to stinuilate in well- 
 doing. This salutary lesson will be taught if the friends 
 of mankind, the votaries of duty, of peace, of freedom, 
 be held up to veneration, while their enemies, themselves 
 the slaves of ambition or avarice, and who would forge 
 fetters for their fellow-creatures or squander their sub- 
 stance or their blood, are exhibited to the scorn and 
 hatred of after-ages.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 6 
 
 The cliief objection to such ii work, undertaken so 
 soon after the persons whom it undertakes to pourtray 
 have left this earthly scene, arises from the difficulty of 
 preserving strict impartiality in consideruig their merits. 
 This difficulty is not denied ; its formidable magnitude 
 is not imderrated. Even if no human feelings with 
 respect to men, between whom and ourselves there may 
 have existed relations of amity or of hostility, swayed the 
 mind ; yet are we ever prone to view through a distort- 
 ing medium those whose principles agreed with or dif- 
 fered from our own upon questions still of daily occur- 
 rence of men, too, whose party connexions imited them 
 
 with classes still in existence and actively engaged in the 
 proceedings of the present day. 
 
 But, while this is admitted to render the attempt dif- 
 ficult, it may not be found to make it hopeless. At any 
 rate we are placed in a choice of evUs. A postpone- 
 ment till the day when there should be no possibility 
 of passion or prejudice shading the path of the historian 
 may extinguish the recollections, also, which alone can 
 give value to his narrative. The transfer of the work to 
 mere strangers, who can be animated by no feeling of a 
 personal kind, leaves it in hands, if not altogether inca- 
 pable of performing it satisfactorily, at least incompa- 
 rably inferior in the power of giving vivid likenesses of 
 contemporary statesmen. At the very least, these por- 
 traitures may be regarded as materials for history, if not 
 worthy of being called historical themselves ; and future 
 penmen may work upon them with the benefit of con- 
 temporary testimony as to facts, though free from the l)ias 
 which may have influenced the conclusions. Tlie author 
 can only affirm, and this he does most conscientiously, 
 
 b2
 
 4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 that he has ever felt under a sacred obligation to pursue 
 the truth of his resemblances without either exaggeration 
 or concealment ; that he has written, or endeavoured to 
 write, as if he had lived in a remote age or country from 
 those whose rulers he has endeavoured to describe ; and 
 that, if any prejudices or pi-edilections have operated upon 
 his mind, they have been unknown to himself. He is 
 quite aware that some may consider this as a veiy equi- 
 vocal test of his impartiality, il' they do not rather see in 
 it an additional symptom of blind prepossession. But 
 he thinks the praise bestowed upon known political ad- 
 versaries, and the disapproval, admitted to be just, of 
 conduct frequently held by the party for whose ser- 
 vices to the cause of freedom he is most grateful, will be 
 taken as some evidence of general impartiality, though 
 it may not suffice to exempt him from the charge of 
 having sometmies unwarily fallen into the snares that 
 beset the path of whoever would write contemporary 
 annals.
 
 GEORGE III. 
 
 The centre figure round which the others that com- 
 pose this picture group themselves, and with Avhich they 
 almost all have relations, is that of George III., a prmce 
 whose long reign during by far the most important period 
 in the history of the human race, rendered his character 
 and conduct a matter of the deepest interest not only to 
 the people of his vast dominions, Init to all mankind. 
 He presided over the destinies of the British Empire, 
 the only free state in the world, during an age that wit- 
 nessed the establishment of independence in the new he- 
 misphere, and the extension of liberty over a great portion 
 of the old. He ruled the most enlightened nation of 
 modern times, w^iile ci\'ilization, rapidly spreading in all 
 directions, dispelled the remains of feudal darkness in 
 Europe, carried its light over other quarters of the globe, 
 and discovered and cultivated unknown regions. Where- 
 fore, his capacity, whether to appreciate his position, or 
 to aid in the progress of his people and his species, if he 
 should have the wisdom to choose the right path, or to 
 obstruct it, shoiild he erroneously deem resistance the 
 better course, was a matter of the greatest importance 
 both to himself personally, to the order in which his lot 
 was cast, and totherestofmankmd. Unhappily he took 
 the wrong direction ; and, having once taken, persevered 
 in it with the pertinacity that marks little minds of all 
 ranks, but which in royal understandings often amounts 
 to a mental disease.
 
 6 GEORGE III. 
 
 Of a narrow understanding, which no culture had en- 
 larged ; of an obstinate disposition, which no education, 
 perhaps, could have humanized ; of strong feelings in 
 ordinary things, and a resolute attachment to aU his own 
 opinions and predilections, George III. possessed much 
 of the firmness of purpose, which, being exhibited by 
 men of contracted mind without any discrimination, and 
 as pertinaciously when they are in the wrong as when 
 they are in the right, lends to their characters an appear- 
 ance of inflexible consistency, which is often mistaken 
 for greatness of mind, and not seldom received as a sub- 
 stitute for honesty. In all that related to his kingly 
 office he was the slave of deep-rooted selfishness ; and 
 no feeling of a kindly nature ever was allowed access to 
 his bosom, whenever his power was concerned, either in 
 its maintenance, or in the manner of exercising it. In 
 other respects, he was a man of amiable disposition, and 
 few princes have been more exemplary in their domestic 
 habits, or in the offices of private friendship. But the 
 instant that his prerogative was concerned, or his bigotry 
 interfered with, or his will thwarted, the most unbending 
 pride, the most bitter animosity, the most calculating 
 coldness of heart, the most imforgiving resentment, took 
 possession of his whole breast, and swayed it by turns. 
 The habits of friendship, the ties of blood, the dictates of 
 conscience, the rules of honesty, were alike forgotten ; 
 and the fury of the tyrant, with the resoui'ces of a cun- 
 ning which mental alienation is supposed to whet, were 
 ready to circumvent or to destroy all who interposed an 
 obstacle to the fierceness of unbridled deske. His con- 
 duct throughout the American \\-ar, and towards the Irish 
 people, has often beenchedas ilkistrativeof the dark side
 
 GEORGE in. 7 
 
 of his public character ; and liis treatment of his eldest 
 son, whom he hated with a hatred scarcely consistent with 
 the supposition of a sound mind, might seem to illustrate 
 the shadier part of his personal disposition ; l^ut it was 
 in truth only another part of his public, his professional 
 conduct : for he had no better reason for this implacable 
 aversion than the jealousy which men have of their suc- 
 cessors, and the consciousness that the Prince, who must 
 succeed him, was unlike him, and, being disliked by him, 
 must, during their joint lives, be thrown into the hands 
 ot the Whig party, the adversaries he most of all detested 
 and feared. 
 
 Although much of the character now portrayed had its 
 origm in natural defect, and part of it in a mind tinged 
 with disease, yet they who had the care of his youth 
 are deeply answerable for the neglect which both added 
 to it many defects, and prevented those of nature from be- 
 ing eradicated or counteracted. His mother, the Dowager 
 Princess, was a woman of neither knowledge, accom- 
 plishments, nor abilities ; and she confided his education 
 to her friend, now generally believed to have stood In a 
 more tender relation towards her. Lord Bute. The want 
 of instruction of which George III. could complain must 
 have been great indeed ; for if any man was little likely 
 to overrate the value of superfluous or extensive inform- 
 ation, it was he. Yet a witness, above all suspicion. 
 Sir Herbert Taylor, has recorded that he lamented, 
 while he admitted, his want of education. Can there be 
 a more shameful thing related ? Can any parties, in the 
 station of his Royal parent and her favourite, be guilty 
 of a more disgraceful breach of duty than to leave the 
 future monarch of a free and enlightened people without
 
 8 GEORGE III. 
 
 the instruction which all but the lower classes of his sub- 
 jects give to their children as a matter of course ? 
 
 Beuiij not deficient ui natural quickness, and the more 
 regularly uidustrious because of his habitually temperate 
 life, he made himself thoroughly master of all the ordi- 
 nary details of business ; insomuch that the same high 
 authority has ascribed to him a more thorough know- 
 ledge of the duties of each several department in the state 
 than any other man ever possessed ; and this is the tes- 
 timony of one both singularly accurate in stating facts, and 
 eminently qualified to form such a comparative estimate 
 by his OM'n mtinuite acquaintance with official details. 
 We must, howe\er, take care not to overrate the diffi- 
 culty or the value of this acquirement. Kmgs have a 
 peculiar interest m ascertaining the bounds of each de- 
 partment's duties and ritjlits. They find protection in 
 keepmg each within its o%\n limits. Coming, of neces- 
 sity, into frequent contact with them all, monarchs cau 
 easily master the knowledge of their several prerogatives 
 and functions ; so tliat this becomes like heraldry and 
 eticjuette, wherein they are all great proficients, empha- 
 tically a Royal branch of knowledge. No proofs re- 
 main, nor has even any assertion been made, that he had 
 any familiarity with the nobler branches of information 
 connected with state afiairs ; the constitution and privi- 
 leges of parliament ; the jurisdiction of Courts ; the 
 principles, nay, even the details of banking, or of trade 
 generally ; the East India or Colonial affiiirs of his 
 Enqjire ; the interests of foreign comitries ; the statis- 
 tics of his o\An ; all of them kinds of knowledge as 
 certainly \\orthy of princes as thoy are generally despised 
 by them. That he was a diligent man of busmess, punc-
 
 GEORGE III. y 
 
 tual to his appointments, regular in the distribution of" 
 his time, never wanting when his mechanical interposi- 
 tion was required, ahvays ready to continue at work 
 until the aifair in hand was despatched, nor ever suffer- 
 ing pleasure or distraction of any kind to interfere with 
 the transaction of the matters belonging to his high 
 station, is as undeniable as that all this might be predi- 
 cated of one who had the most limited capacity, or the 
 most confined information, and who had little else to re- 
 commend him than the strict sense of his official duties, 
 and the resolution to make everything yield to the dis- 
 charge of them, those duties being much more of the 
 hand than the head. 
 
 But it would be a great mistake to imagine that 
 George III.'s ambition was confined within the range 
 of his abilities. He was hnpressed with a lofty feeling 
 of his prerogative, and a firm determination to nuiin- 
 tain, perhaps extend it. At all events, he was resolved 
 not to l)e a mere name, or a cipher in public affairs ; 
 and, whether from a sense of the obligations imposed 
 upon him l)y his station, or from a desire to enjoy all its 
 powers and privileges, he certainly, while his reason 
 remained entire, but especially during the earlier pe- 
 riod of his reign, interfered in the affairs of government 
 more than any prince who ever sat upon the throne of 
 this country since our monarchy was distinctly admitted 
 to be a limited one, and its executive functions were (Hs- 
 tributed among responsible ministers. The correspond- 
 ence which he carried on with his confidential servants 
 during the ten most critical years of his life lies before 
 us, and it proves that his attention was ever awake to all 
 the occurrences of tlie government. Not a step was
 
 10 GEORGE III. 
 
 taken in foi-eign, colonial, or domestic affairs, that lie did 
 not form his opinion upon it, and exercise his in- 
 fluence over it. The instructions to ambassadors, the 
 orders to governors, the movements of forces down 
 to the marching of a single battalion in the districts of 
 this coimtry, the appointments to all offices in church 
 and state, not only the giving away of judgeships, bishop- 
 rics, regiments, but the subordinate promotions, lay 
 and clerical ; all these form the topics of his letters ; on 
 all his opinion is pronounced decisively ; on all his will 
 is declared peremptorily. In one letter he decides the 
 appointment of a Scotch puisne judge ; in another the 
 march of a troop from Buckinghamshire into Yorkshire ; 
 in a thkd the nomination to the Deanery of ^Vorcester ; 
 in a fourth he says that, " if Adam, the architect, suc- 
 ceeds Worsley at the Board of Works, he shall thmk 
 Chambers ill used."* 
 
 For the greater affairs of state it is well known how 
 substantially he insisted upon being the King de facto as 
 well as dejure. The American war, the long exclusion 
 of the liberal party, the French Revolution, the Catholic 
 question, are all sad monuments of his real power. Of all 
 liis resolutions on these affairs, the desire to retain America 
 in subjection seems to have been his strongest propensity ; 
 during the whole contest all his opinions, all his feelings, 
 and all his designs, turned upon what he termed the " pre- 
 sei-vation of the empire." Nor was his rooted prejudice 
 agamst both the Whigs and the French unconnected with 
 
 * This was in 1177, in the middle of the most anxious moment of 
 tlic American contest; the letter immediately preceding relates to 
 the sum of affairs.
 
 GEORGE III. II 
 
 the part they both took in behalf of the Colonies. Rather 
 than quit his hold over those provinces and receive the 
 Whigs into his confidence, or do what he called " submit- 
 ting to be trampled on by his enemies," he at one time 
 threatened to abdicate, and they who knew him are well 
 aware that he did not threaten without a fixed resolution 
 to act. No less than thrice within four days, in March 
 1778, did he use this language, in the agony of his mind, 
 at having a junction with the Whig party proposed by 
 his chief minister ; and upon one occasion he says, " If 
 the people will not stand by me, they shall have another 
 king, for I never will set my hand to what will make me 
 miserable to the last hour of my life." The threat is 
 revived upon the division against Lord North four years 
 afterwards. 
 
 That such a sovereign was, for the servants he con- 
 fided in, the best possible master, may well be supposed. 
 He gave them his entire and hearty support. If he 
 kept a watchful eye over all the proceedings both of 
 parliament and the country; if we find him one day 
 oonnnenting on the line taken in debate as " dangerous," 
 at another as " timid and vascillatinsj," or discussing: the 
 composition of the majority or its numbers upon the divi- 
 sion, or suggesting that the journey of Mr. Fox to Paris 
 should " make the different departments bring on all 
 their business before he comes back, as we shall have 
 much less noise for the next three weeks ;" or expressing 
 his conviction that " the Speaker's illness is feigned, and 
 all to let the opposition have their pleasure at Newmar- 
 ket ;" he also asks, " Who deserted you last night that 
 you thought you had a right to count upon ? Give me 
 their names, that I may murk my sense of their beha-
 
 12 GEORGE III. 
 
 viour at the drawmg-rooin to-morrow ;" and again, " if 
 the utmost obsenuiousness on my part, at the levee to- 
 day, can gain over jNIr. Solicitor-General to yonr views, 
 it shall not be wantmg." This was, indeed, efficiently 
 supporting a favourite niinistiy ; and when he had one 
 forced upon him, his Avliole conduct was the reverse ; 
 all his countenance being given to their antagonists, 
 until the moment arrived when he could safely throw 
 them out. 
 
 The first impression which such conduct makes is un- 
 favourable to the monarch, and may at first sight even 
 give rise to an opinion that it was unconstitutional. But 
 further reflection makes this somewhat more than doubt- 
 ful. The question is, " Does the king of this country hold 
 a real or only a nominal office ? Is he merely a form, or is 
 he a substantive poAver in our mixed and balanced con- 
 stitution ?" Some mamtain, nay, it is a prevailing opi- 
 nion among certain authorities of no mean rank, that the 
 sovereign, having chosen his ministers, assigns over to 
 them the whole executive power. They treat him as a 
 kind of trustee for a temporai-y use, to preserve, as it 
 were, some contuigent estate ; or a provisional assignee, to 
 hold the property of an msolvent for a day, and then 
 divest himself of the estate by assigning it over. They 
 regard the only power really vested in the crown to be the 
 choice of mmisters, and'even the exercise of this to be con- 
 trolled by the parliament. They reduce the king more 
 completely to the condition of a state pageant or state 
 cipher than one of Abbe Sieyes's constitutions did, Allien 
 he proposed to have a Grand Functionary \\-ith no po\^-er 
 except to give away offices ; upon which Napoleon, then 
 first consul, to wliom the proposition was tendered,
 
 GEORGE III. 13 
 
 asked if it well became him to be made a " Cochon 
 a I'engrais a la somme de trois millions par an ?"* Tiie 
 English animal, according to the \A''hig doctrine, mncli 
 more nearly answers this somewhat coarse description ; 
 for the Abbe's plan was to give his royal beast a sub- 
 stantial voice in the distribution of all patronage ; while 
 our lion is only to have the sad prerogative of naming 
 whomsoever the parliament chooses, and eating his own 
 mess in quiet. 
 
 Now, with all the disposition in the world to desire 
 that Royal prerogative should be restricted, and the will 
 of the nation govern the national affairs, we cannot com- 
 prehend this theory of a monarchy. It assigns to the 
 Crown either far too much revenue, or far too little 
 power. To pay a million a-year, or more, for a name, 
 seems absurdly extravagant. To affect living under a 
 kingly government, and yet suffer no kind of kingly 
 power, seems extravagantly absurd. Surely the meaning 
 of having a sovereign is, that his voice should be heard, 
 and his influence felt, in the administration of public 
 affairs. The different orders of the state have a right to 
 look towards that high quarter all in their turn for support 
 when their rights are invaded by one another's encroach- 
 ments, or to claim the Royal umpirage when their mutual 
 conflicts cannot be settled by mutual concessions ; and un- 
 less the whole notion of a mixed monarchy, and a balance 
 of three powers, is a mere fiction and a dream, the royal 
 portion of the composition must be allowed to have some 
 power, to produce some effect upon the quality of the 
 whole. It is not denied that George III. sought to rule 
 
 * A hog to be fatted at the rate of 120,000/. a-year.
 
 14 GEORGE III. 
 
 too much ; it is not maintained that he had a rio-ht to be 
 perpetually sacrificing all other considerations to the pre- 
 servation or extension of his prerogative. But that he 
 only discharged the duty of his station by thinkuag for 
 himself, acting according to his conscientious opinion, 
 and using liis influence for giving these opinions effect, 
 cannot be denied unless by those who, being averse to 
 monarchy, and yet dreaduig a conimomvealth, would 
 incur all the cost, and all the far worse evils, of a form ol 
 government wliich they think the worst, rather than seek 
 for a better, and would purchase the continuance of the 
 greatest evils at the highest price, rather than encounter 
 the risk of a change.* 
 
 That this Pruice in his private life had many virtues, 
 we have already stated, with the qualification annexed 
 of these being always, even as regarded his strong 
 domestic affections, kept in subjection to his feelings as a 
 sovereign. With regard to his general disposition, it 
 must be added that he belonged to a class of men, not 
 by any means the worst, but far beneath the best, in the 
 constitution of their hearts, those who neither can forget 
 a kindness nor an injury. Nor can this sketch be more 
 appropriately closed than with two remarkable examples 
 of the implacable hatred he bore his enemies, and the 
 steady affection with which he cherished his friends. 
 
 Among the former, Lord Chatham held the most 
 
 * George III. setone example which is worthy of imitation in all times. 
 He refused to be made a state puppet in his minister's hands, and to let 
 his name he used either by men whom he despised, or for purposes 
 which he disapproved. Nor could any one ever accuse him of ruling 
 by favourites ; still less could any one, by pretending to be the people's 
 choice, impose himself on his vigorous understanding.
 
 GEORGE III. lo 
 
 conspicuous place, apparently from the time of the 
 American question ; for at an earlier period his cor- 
 respondence with that great man was most friendly. 
 But tlie following is his answer to Lord North's pro- 
 posal that Lord Chatham's pension should be settled in 
 reversion on his younger son, afterwards so well known 
 as the second William Pitt. It bears date August 9th, 
 1775. "The making Lord Chatham's family suffer for 
 the conduct of their father is not in the least agreeable 
 to my sentiments. But I should choose to know him to 
 be totally unable to appear again on the public stage 
 before I agree to any offer of that kind, lest it should 
 be wrongly construed into a fear of him ; and indeed 
 his political conduct the last winter was so abandoned, 
 that he must, in the eyes of the dispassionate, have 
 totally undone all the merit of his former conduct. As 
 to any gratitude to be expected from him or his family, 
 the whole tenor of their lives has shown them void 
 of that most honourable sentiment. But when decrepi- 
 tude or death puts an end to Mm as a trumpet of 
 sedition, I shall make no difficulty in placing the second 
 son's name instead of the father's, and making up the 
 pension 3000/." 
 
 From the truly savage feelings which this letter dis- 
 plays, it is agreeable to turn the eye upon so amiable a 
 contrast as the following affords, written to the minister 
 whom he ever loved beyond all his other servants, and 
 only quitted when the Coalition united him to the 
 Whigs : — 
 
 "Having paid the last arrears (Sept. 1777) on the 
 Civil List, I must now do the same for you. I have 
 understood, from your hints, that you have been in debt
 
 16 GEORGE III. 
 
 ever since you settled in life. I must therefore insist 
 that you allow me to assist you with 10,000/., or 15,000/., 
 or even 20,000/., if that will be sufficient. It will be 
 easy for you to make an arrangement, or at proper times 
 to take up that sum. You know me veiy ill if you 
 think not that, of all the letters I ever wrote to you, this 
 one gives me the greatest pleasure ; and I want no other 
 return but your being convinced that I love you as 
 well as a man of worth, as I esteem you as a minister. 
 Your conduct at a critical moment I never can forget." 
 These remarkable and characteristic letters naturally 
 introduce to us his two celebrated correspondents. Lord 
 Chatham and Lord North ; the one, until Mr. Fox came 
 upon the stage, of all his adversaries, the one he pur- 
 sued with the most unrelentuig hatred ; the other, of all 
 his servants, the one for whom he felt the warmest 
 friendship.
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 There is hardly any man in modern times, with the 
 exception, perhaps, of Lord Somers, who fills so large a 
 space in our histoiy, and of whom we know so little, as 
 Lord Chatham ; and yet he is the person to w^hom every 
 one would at once point, if desired to name the most 
 successful statesman and most brilliant orator that this 
 country ever produced. Of Lord Somers, indeed, we 
 can scarcely be said to know anything at all. That he 
 was a person of unimpeachable integrity, a judge of great 
 capacity and learning, a firm friend of liberty, but a 
 cautious and safe counsellor in most difficult emergen- 
 cies, all are ready to acknowledge. But the authority 
 which he possessed among his contemporaries, the 
 influence which his sound and practical wisdom exer- 
 cised over their proceedings, the services which he was 
 thus enabled to render in steering the constitution safe 
 through the most trymg times, and savuig us from 
 arbitrary power without paying the price of our liberties 
 in anarchy and. bloodshed, — nay, conducting the whole 
 proceedings of a revolution with all the deliberation, 
 and almost in the forms, of an ordinary legal pro- 
 ceeding ; have surrounded his name with a mild yet 
 imperishable gloiy, which, in the contrast of our dark 
 ignorance respecting all the particulars and details of 
 his life, gives the figure something altogether mysterious 
 and ideal. It is now unfortunately too late, by supplying 
 this information, to fill up the outline which the meagre 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 records of liis times have left us. But it is singular 
 how much of Lord Chatham, who flourished within the 
 memory of the present generation, still rests upon vague 
 tradition. As a statesman, indeed, he is known to us by 
 the events which history has recorded to have happened 
 under his administration. Yet even of his share in bring- 
 ing these about, little has been preserved of detail. So, 
 fragments of his speeches have been handed down to us, 
 but these bear so very small a proportion to the pro- 
 digious fame which his eloquence has left behind it, 
 that far more is manifestly lost than has reached us ; 
 while of his written compositions but a iew letters have 
 hitherto been given to the world. 
 
 The imperfect state of Parliamentary Reporting is the 
 great cause of this blank. From the time of his enter- 
 ing the House of Commons to that of his quitting it, 
 the pri\Tleges of Parliament almost wholly precluded 
 the possibility of regular and full accounts of debates 
 being communicated to the public. At one period they 
 were given under feigned names, as if held in the Senate 
 of Rome by the ancient orators and statesmen ; at 
 another they were conveyed under the initials only of 
 the names borne l)y the real speakers. Even when, 
 somewhat later, tliese disguises were thrown aside, the 
 speeches were composed by persons who had not been 
 present at the debates, but gleaned a few heads of each 
 speaker's topics from some one who had heard him ; 
 and the fullest and most authentic of all those ac- 
 counts are merely the meagre outline of the sub- 
 jects touched upon, preserved in the Diaries or Cor- 
 respondence of some contemporaiy pohticians, and 
 presenting not even an approximation to the execution
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 19 
 
 of the orators. Thus many of Lord Chatham's earlier 
 speeches in the House of Commons, as now preserved, 
 were avowedly the composition of Dr. Johnson, whose 
 measured style, formal periods, balanced antitheses, and 
 total want of pure racy English, betray their author 
 at every line, while each debater is made to speak 
 exactly in the same manner. For some years after he 
 ceased to report, or rather to manufacture, that is, from 
 1751 downwards, a Dr. Gordon furnished the news- 
 papers with reports, consisting of much more accurate 
 accounts of what had passed in debate, but without pre- 
 tending to give more than the mere substance of the 
 several speeches. The debates upon the American 
 Stamp Act, in 1764, are the first that can be said to 
 have been preserved at all, through the happy accident 
 of Lord Charlemont, assisted by Sir Robert Deane, 
 taking an extraordinary interest in the subject as 
 bearing upon the grievances of Ireland ; and accordingly 
 they have handed down to us some notes, from internal 
 evidence plainly authentic, of Lord Chatham's cele- 
 brated speeches upon that question. A few remains 
 of his great displays in the House of Lords have, 
 in like manner, been preserved, chiefly in the two 
 speeches reported by Mr. Hugh Boyd ; the second of 
 which, the most celebrated of all, upon the employ- 
 ment of the Indians in the American war, there is 
 reason to believe was revised and corrected by Lord 
 Chatham himself; and if so, it was certainly the only 
 one that ever underwent his revision. If any one will 
 only compare the extreme slenderness of these grounds 
 upon which to estimate a speaker's claim to renown, 
 or to judge of the characteristics of his eloquence, with 
 
 c 2
 
 20 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 the ample means which we have of studying the merits 
 of ahnost all the ancient orators, and examining their 
 distinguishing qualities, he will be sensible how much 
 any idea which we can form of Lord Chatham's oratory 
 must rest upon tradition, that is, upon the accounts left 
 by contemporary writers of its effects ; and how little 
 we are enabled to judge for ourselves l)y examining the 
 specimens that remain of his composition. It seems 
 little short of presumption, after this statement, to 
 attempt including his character as an orator in the 
 sketch which may be given of this great man. But 
 the testimony of contemporaries may so far be helped 
 by what remains of the oratory itself, as to make some 
 faint conceptions attainable of that eloquence which, 
 for effect at least, has surpassed any known in modern 
 times. 
 
 The first place among the great qualities which 
 distinguished Lord Chatham, is unquestionably due to 
 firmness of purpose, resolute determination in the pur- 
 suit of his objects. This was the characteristic of the 
 younger Brutus, as he said, Avho had spared his life to 
 fall by his hand — Quicquicl vult, id valde vult ; and 
 although extremely apt to exist in excess, it must be 
 admitted to be the foundation of all true gi-eatness of 
 character. Everything, however, depends upon the en- 
 dowments in company of which it is found ; and in Lord 
 Chatham these ;^'ere of a very high order. The quick- 
 ness with whicli he could ascertain his object, and 
 discover his road to it, was fully commensurate with 
 his perseverance and his boldness in pursuing it ; the 
 firmness of grasp wiiXx which he held his advantage was 
 fully equalled by the rapidity of the glance with which
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 21 
 
 he discovered it. Add to this, a mind eminently fer- 
 tile in resources ; a courage which nothing could daunt 
 in the choice of his means ; a resolution equally indo- 
 mitable in their application ; a genius, in short, origi- 
 nal and daring, which bounded over the petty obstacles 
 raised by orduiaiy men — their squeamishness, and their 
 precedents, and their forms, and their regularities — and 
 forced away its path through the entanglements of this 
 base undergro\A'th to the worthy object ever in view, the 
 prosperity and the renown of his country. Far superior 
 to the paltry objects of a grovelling amljition, and 
 regardless alike of party and of personal considerations, 
 he constantly set before his eyes the highest duty of a 
 public man, to further the interests of his species. In 
 pursuing his course towards that goal, lie disregarded 
 alike the frowns of powers and the gales of popular 
 applause, exposed himself undaunted to the vengeance 
 of the Court, while he battled against its corruptions, 
 and confronted, unappalled, the rudest shocks of public 
 indignation, while he resisted the dictates of pernicious 
 agitators, and could conscientiously exclaim, with an 
 illustrious statesman of antiquity, " Ego hoc animo 
 semper fui ut invidiam virtute partam, gloriam non in- 
 vidiam putarem !" 
 
 Nothing could be more entangled than the foreign 
 policy of this country at the time Avhen he undertook 
 the supreme direction of her atfairs ; nothing could be 
 more disastrous than the aspect of her fortunes in 
 every quarter of the globe. 'W'itli a smgle ally in 
 Europe, the King of Prussia, and him beset by a com- 
 l)ination of all the continentid powers in unnatural union 
 to eti'ect his destruction ; with an army of insignificant
 
 22 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 amount, and conunanded by men only desirous of 
 grasping at the emoluments, without doing the duties 
 or incurring the risks of their profession ; with a navy 
 that could hardly keep the sea, and whose chiefs vied 
 with tlieii" comrades on shore in earning the character 
 given them by the new INIinister, — of being utterly 
 unfit to be trusted in any enterprise accompanied with 
 the least appearance of danger ; with a generally pre- 
 vailing dislike of both services, which at once repressed 
 all desire of joining either, and damped all public spirit 
 in the country, by extinguishuig all hope of success, and 
 even all love of glory — it was hardly possible for a nation 
 to be placed in circumstances more inauspicious to mili- 
 tary exertions ; and yet war raged in every quarter of 
 the \^'orld where our dommion extended, while the ter- 
 ritories of our only ally, as well as those of our own 
 sovereign in Germany, were invaded by France, and her 
 forces by sea and land menaced our shoi'es. In the dis- 
 tant possessions of the Cro\\'n the same want of enter- 
 prise and of spirit prevailed. Armies in the ^^'est were 
 paralysed by the inaction of a Captain who would hardly 
 take the pains of writing a despatch to clii-onicle the non- 
 entity of his operations ; and in the East, while frightful 
 disasters were brought upon our settlements by Barba- 
 rian powers, the only military capacity that appeared in 
 their defence was the accidental display of genius and 
 valour by a merchant's clerk, who thus raised himself to 
 celebrity.* In this forlorn state of affaii-s, which ren- 
 dered it as impossible to think of peace, as hopeless to 
 continue the yet inevitable war, the base and sordid views 
 
 * Mr. Clive, afterwards Lord Clive.
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 23 
 
 of politicians kept pace with the mean spirit of the mili- 
 tary caste ; and parties were split or united, not upon 
 any difference or agreement of public principle, but upon 
 mere questions of patronage and of share in the puljlic 
 spoil, while all seemed alike actuated by one only pas- 
 sion the thirst alternately of power and of gam. 
 
 As soon as Mr. Pitt took the helm, the steadiness of 
 the hand that held it was instantly felt in every motion of 
 the vessel. There was no more of wavering counsels, 
 of torpid inaction, of listless expectancy, of abject de- 
 spondency. His tirmness gave confidence, his spirit 
 roused courage, his vigilance secured exertion, in every 
 department under his sway. Each man, from the 
 first Lord of the Admiralty down to the most humble 
 clerk in the Victualling Office — each soldier, from the 
 Commander-in-Chief to the most obscure contractor or 
 commissary — now felt assured that he was acting or was 
 indolent under the eye of one who knew his duties and liis 
 means as well as his own, and who would very certainly 
 make all defaulters, whether through misfeasance or 
 through nonfeasance, accomitable for whatever detriment 
 the conmiouwealth might sustain at their hands. Over 
 •his immediate coadjutors his influence swiftly obtained 
 an ascendant wliich it ever after retained uninterrupted. 
 Upon his first proposition for changing the conduct of 
 the war, he stood single amona; his colleagues, and ten- 
 dered his resignation should they persist m their dissent ; 
 they at once succumbed, and from that hour ceased to 
 have an opinion of their own upon any branch of the 
 public affairs. Nay, so absolutely was he determined to 
 have the control of those measures, of which he knew 
 the responsibility rested upon him alone, that he insisted
 
 'J4 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 upon the first Lord of the Admiralty not having the 
 correspondence of his o^vn department ; and no less emi- 
 nent a naval character than Lord Anson, as well as his 
 junior Lords, was obliged to sign the naval orders 
 issued by JMr. Pitt, while the writing was covered 
 over from their eyes ! 
 
 The effects of this change in the whole management 
 of the public business, and in all the plans of the Govern- 
 ment, as well as in their execution, were speedily made 
 manifest to the world. The German troops were sent 
 home, and a well-regulated militia being established 
 to defend the country, a lai'ge disposable force was distri- 
 buted over the various positions whence the enemy might 
 be annoyed. France, attacked on some points, and 
 menaced on others, was compelled to retire from Ger- 
 many, soon aftenvards suffered the most disastrous de- 
 feats, and, instead of threatening England and her allies 
 with invasion, had to defend herself against attack, suf- 
 fering severely in several of her most important naval 
 stations. No less than sixteen islands, and settlements, 
 and fortresses of importance, were taken from her in 
 America, and Asia, and Africa, including all her ^^^est 
 Indian colonies, except St. Domingo, and all her settle- 
 ments in the East. The whole important province of 
 Canada Avas likemse conquered ; and the Havannah A\'as 
 taken from Spain. Besides this, the seas were s^^•ept 
 clear of the fleets that had so lately been insultmg 
 our colonies, and even our coasts. ]\Iany general 
 actions were fought and gauied; one among them the 
 most decisive that had ever been fouglit l>y our navy. 
 Thirty-six sail of the line were taken or destroyed ; fifty 
 frigates ; forty-five sloops of war. So brilliant a course
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 25 
 
 of uninterrupted success hatl never, in modern times, 
 attended the arms of any nation carrying on war with other 
 states equal to it in civilisation, and nearly a match in 
 power. But it is a more glorious feature in this imex- 
 ampled Administration which history lias to record, when 
 it adds, that all public distress had disappeared ; that all 
 discontent in any quarter, both of the colonies and parent 
 state had ceased ; that no oppression was anywhere 
 practised, no abuse suffered to prevail; that no en- 
 croachments were made upon the rights of the subject, 
 no malversation tolerated in the possessors of power; 
 and that England, for the first time and for the last 
 time, presented the astonishing picture of a nation sup- 
 porting without murmur a widely-extended and costly 
 war, and a people, hitherto torn with conflicting parties, 
 so united in the service of the commonwealth that the 
 voice of faction had ceased in the land, and any dis- 
 cordant whisper Avas heard no more. ' These' (said 
 the son of his first and most formidable adversary, Wal- 
 pole, when informing his correspondent abroad, that the 
 session, as usual, had ended without any kind of oppo- 
 sition or even of debate), — ' These are the doings of Mr. 
 Pitt, and they are wondrous in our eyes !' 
 
 To genius irregularity is incident, and the greatest 
 genius is often marked by eccentricity, as if it disdained 
 to move in the vulgar orbit. Hence he who is fitted 
 by his nature, and trained by his habits, to be an accom- 
 plished ' pilot in extremity,' and whose inclinations 
 carry him forth ' to seek the deep when the waves run 
 high,'may be found, if not ' to steer too near the shore,' 
 yet to despise the sunken rocks which they that can 
 only be trusted in calm weather would have more surely
 
 26 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 avoided. To this rule it cannot be said that Lord 
 Chatham afforded any exception ; and although a plot 
 had certainly been formed to eject him from the Minis- 
 try, leaving the chief control of affairs in the feeble 
 hands of Lord Bute, whose only support was Court 
 favour, and whose chief talent lay in an expertness at 
 intrisue, vet there can be little doubt that this scheme 
 was only rendered practicable by the hostility which the 
 great Minister's unbending habits, his contempt of ordi- 
 nary men, and his neglect of every-day matters, had 
 raised against him among all the creatures both of 
 Downing-street and St. James's. In fact, his colleagues, 
 who necessarily felt humbled by his superiority, were 
 needlessly mortified by the constant display of it ; and 
 it would have betokened a still higher reach of under- 
 standing, as well as a purer fabric of patriotism, if he, 
 whose great capacity threw those subordinates into the 
 shade, and before whose vigour in action they were suf- 
 ficiently willing to yield, had united a little suavity in 
 his demeanour with his extraordinary powers, nor made 
 it always necessary for them to acknowledge as well as 
 to feel their inferiority. It is certain that the insulting 
 arnmgement of the Admiralty, to which reference has 
 been already made, while it lowered that department in 
 the public opinion, rendered all connected with it his 
 personal enemies ; and, indeed, though there have since 
 his days been Prime IMinisters whom he would never 
 have suffered to sit even as puisne lords at his boards, yet 
 were one like himself again to govern the countiy, the 
 Admiralty chief, who might be far inferior to Lord 
 Anson, would never submit to the humiliation inflicted 
 upon that gallant and skilful captain. INIr. Pitt's policy
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 27 
 
 seemed formed upon the assumption that either each 
 j)ublic functionary was equal to himself in boldness, 
 activity, and resource, or that he was to preside over 
 and animate each department in person. Such was 
 his confidence in his own powers, that he reversed 
 the maxim of governing, never to force your way where 
 you can win it; and always disdained to insinuate 
 where he could dash in, or to persuade where he could 
 conmiand. It thus happened that his colleagues were 
 but nominally coadjutors, and though they durst not 
 thwart him, yet rendered no heart-service to aid his 
 schemes. Indeed it has clearly appeared since his time 
 that they were chiefly induced to yield him implicit obe- 
 dience, and leave the undivided direction of all opera- 
 tions in his hands, by the expectation that the failure of 
 what they were wont to sneer at as " Mr. Pitt's visions" 
 would turn the tide of public opinion against him, and 
 prepare his downfall from a height of which they felt 
 that there was no one but himself able to dispossess 
 him. 
 
 The true test of a great man — that at least which 
 must secure his place among the highest order of 
 great men — is his having been in advance of his age. 
 This it is which decides whether or not he has carried 
 forward the grand plan of human improvement ; has 
 conformed his views and adapted his conduct to the exist- 
 ing circumstances of society, or changed those so as to 
 better its condition ; has been one of the liglits of the 
 world, or only reflected the borrowed rays of former 
 luminaries, and sat in the same shade with the rest of 
 his generation at the same twilight or the same dawn. 
 Tried by this test, the younger Pitt cannot certainly be
 
 28 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 said to have lived before his time, or shed upon the age 
 to which he belonged the iUuniination of a more ad- 
 vanced civilisation and more inspired philosophy. He 
 came far too early into public life, and was too suddenly 
 plunged into the pool of office, to give him time for the 
 study and the reflection which can alone open to any 
 mind, how vigorous soever may be its natural constitution, 
 the views of a deep and original wisdom. Accordingly, 
 it would be difficult to glean, from all his measures and 
 all his speeches, anything like the fruits of inventive 
 genius ; or to mark any token of his mind having gone 
 before the very ordinary routine of the day, as if familiar 
 with any ideas that did not pass through the most vul- 
 gar understandings. His father's intellect was of a 
 higher order ; he had evidently, though without much 
 education, and with no science of any kind, yet reflected 
 deeply upon the principles of human action, well stu- 
 died the nature of men, and pondered upon the struc- 
 ture of society. His reflections frequently teem with 
 the fruits of such meditation, to which his constantly 
 feeble health perhaps gave rise rather than any natural 
 proneness to contemplative life, from whence his taste 
 must have been alien ; for he was eminently a man 
 of action. His appeals to the feelings and passions 
 were also the result of the same reflective habits, and 
 the acquaintance with the human heart which they had 
 given him. But if we consider his opinions, though 
 liberal and enlightened upon every particular question, 
 they rather may be regarded as felicitous from their 
 adaptation to the actual circumstances in which he was 
 called upon to advise or to act, than as indicating that 
 he had seen very far into future times, and anticipated
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 29 
 
 the philosophy which further experience should teach to 
 our more advanced agreof the world. To take two ex- 
 amples from the two subjects upon which he had both 
 thought the most, and been the most strenuously en- 
 gaged in handling practically as a statesman, — our rela- 
 tions with France and with America :— The old and 
 narrow notions of natural enmity with the one, and na- 
 tural sovereignty over the other, wei'e the guides of his 
 whole opinions and conduct in those great arguments. 
 To cultivate the relations of peace with our nearest 
 neighbour, as the first of blessings to both nations, each 
 being able to do the other most good in amity and most 
 hai-m in hostility, never appears to have entered into the 
 system of policy enlightened by that fiery soul, which 
 could only see glory or even safety in the precarious 
 and transient domination bestowed by a successful war. 
 To become the fast friends of those colonies which we 
 had planted and long retained under our protecting go- 
 vernment, and thus both to profit ourselves and them the 
 more by suffering them to be as independent as we are, 
 was an idea that certainly could not be said once to have 
 crossed his impetuous and uncompromising mind ; for 
 it had often been entertained by him, but only to be re- 
 jected with indignation and abhorrence, as if the inde- 
 pendence of America were the loss of our national exist- 
 ence. Upon all less important questions, whether 
 touching our continental or our colonial policy, his opi- 
 nion was to the full as sound, and his views as enlarged, 
 as those of any statesman of his age ; but it would not 
 be correct to affirm that on those, the cardinal, and there- 
 fore the trying, points of the day, he was materially in 
 advance of his own thnes.
 
 30 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 If u e turn from the statesman to survey the orator, 
 our examination must be far less satisfactory, l)ecause 
 our materials are extremely imperfect, from the cir- 
 cumstances already adverted to. There is indeed hardly 
 any eloquence, of ancient or of modern times, of which 
 so little that can be relied on as authentic has been pre- 
 served ; unless perhaps that of Pericles, Julius Ceesar, 
 and Lord Bolingbroke. Of the actions of the two first 
 we have sufficient records, as we have of Lord Chat- 
 ham's ; of their speeches we have little that can be 
 regarded as genuine ; although, by unquestionable tra- 
 dition, we know that each of them was second only to 
 the greatest orator of their respective countries ;* while 
 of Bolingbroke we only know, from Dean Swift, that 
 he was the most accomplished speaker of his time ; and 
 it is related of JNIr. Pitt (the younger), that when the 
 conversation rolled upon lost works, and some said the}' 
 should prefer restoring the books of Livy, some of Taci- 
 tus, and some a Latin tragedy, he at once decided for 
 a speech of Bolingbroke. ^Miat we know of his own 
 father's oratory is much more to be ajleaned from con- 
 temporary panegyrics, and accounts of its effects, than 
 from the scanty, and for the most part doubtful, re- 
 mains which have reached us. 
 
 All accounts, however, concur in representintj those 
 effects to have been prodigious. The spirit and vehe- 
 mence which animated its greater passages — their per- 
 
 * Thucydides gives three speeches of Pericles, which he may very 
 possibly have in great part composed for him. Sallust's speech 
 of Caesar is manifestly the writer's own composition ; indeed, it is in 
 the exact style of the one he puts into Cato's mouth, that is, in his 
 own style.
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 31 
 
 feet application to the subject-matter of debate — the 
 appositeness of his invective to the individual assailed 
 — the boldness of the feats ^vhich he ventured upon — 
 the grandeur of the ideas which he unfolded — the heart- 
 stirring nature of his appeals, — are all confessed by 
 the united testimony of his contemporaries; and the 
 fragments which remain bear out to a considerable ex- 
 tent such representations ; nor are we likely to be mis- 
 led by those fragments, for the more striking portions 
 were certainly the ones least likely to be either forgotten 
 or fabricated. To these mighty attractions was added 
 the imposing, the animating, the commanding power of 
 a countenance singularly expressive ; an eye so piercing 
 that hardly any one could stand its glare ; and a man- 
 ner altogether singularly striking, original, and charac- 
 teristic, notwithstanding a peculiarly defective and even 
 awkward action. Latterly, indeed, his infirmities pre- 
 cluded all action ; and he is described as standing in 
 the House of Lords leaning upon his crutch, and speak- 
 ing for ten minutes together in an under-tone of voice 
 scarcely audible, but raising his notes to their full pitch 
 when he broke out into one of his grand bursts of in- 
 vective or exclamation. But, in his earlier time, his 
 whole manner is represented as having been beyond con- 
 ception animated and imposing. Indeed the thingswhich 
 he effected principally by means of it, or at least which 
 nothing but a most striking and connnanding tone could 
 have made it possible to attempt, ahnost exceed belief. 
 Some of these sallies are indeed examples of that ap- 
 proach made to the ludicrous by the sublime, which has 
 been charged upon him as a prevailing fault, and repre- 
 sented under tlie name of Charlatanerie, — a favourite
 
 32 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 phrase with his adversaries, as in hiter times it has been 
 with the ignorant undervaluers of Lord Erskine. It is 
 related that once in the House of Commons he began a 
 speech with the words " Sugar, Mr. Speaker," — and 
 then, observing a smile to pervade the audience, he 
 paused, looked fiercely around, and with a loud voice, 
 rising in its notes and swelling into vehement anger, he 
 is said to have pronounced again the word " Sugar !" 
 three times, and having thus quelled the house, and 
 extinguished every appearance of levity or laughter, 
 turned round and disdainfully asked, " Who will laugh 
 at sugar now ?" We have the anecdote upon good 
 traditional authority ; that it was believed by those 
 who had the l^est means of knowing Lord Chatham is 
 certain ; and this of itself shows their sense of the ex- 
 traordinary powers of his manner, and the reach of his 
 audacity in trusting to those powers. 
 
 There can be no doubt that of reasoning, — of sus- 
 tained and close argument, — his speeches had but little. 
 His statements were desultory, though striking, perhaps 
 not very distinct, certainly not at all detailed, and as 
 certainly every way inferior to those of his celebrated 
 soil. If he did not reason cogently, he assuredly did 
 not compress his matter vigorously. He was anything 
 rather than a concise or a short speaker ; not that his 
 great passages were at all diffuse, or in the least degree 
 loaded with superfluous words ; but he was prolix in 
 the whole texture of his discourse, and he was certainly 
 the first who introduced into our senate the practice, 
 adopted in the American ^^'ar by JNIr. Burke, and con- 
 tinued by others, of long speeches, — speeches of two and 
 three hours, by which oratory has gained little, and busi-
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 33 
 
 ness less. His discourse was, however, fully informed 
 with matter; his allusions to analogous subjects, and 
 his references to the history of past events, were frequent ; 
 his expression of his own opinions was copious and 
 free, and stood very generally in the place of any elabo- 
 rate reasoning In their support. A noble statement of 
 enlarged views, a generous avowal of dignified senti- 
 ments, a manly and somewhat severe contempt for all 
 petty or mean views — whether their baseness proceeded 
 from narrow understanding or from corrupt bias — always 
 pervaded his whole discourse ; and, more than any other 
 orator since Demosthenes, he was distinguished by the 
 grandeur of feeling with which lie regarded, and the 
 amplitude of survey which he cast upon the subject- 
 matters of debate. His invective was unsparing and 
 hard to be endured, although he was a less eminent 
 master of sarcasm than his son, and rather overwhelmed 
 his antagonist with the burst of words and vehement in- 
 dignation, than wounded him by the edge of ridicule, or 
 tortured him with the gall of bitter scorn, or fixed his 
 arrow in the wound by the l)arb of epigram. These 
 things seemed, as it were, to betoken too much labour 
 and too much art — more labour than was consistent with 
 absolute scorn — more art than could stand with heart- 
 felt rage, or entire contempt inspired by the occasion, at 
 the moment, and on the spot. But his great passages, 
 those by which he has come down to us, those which 
 gave his eloquence its peculiar character, and to which 
 its dazzling success was owing, were as sudden and un- 
 expected as they were natural. Every one was taken 
 by surprise when they rolled forth — every one felt them 
 to be so natural, that he could hardly imderstand wliy 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 he had not thought of them himself, although into no 
 one's imagination had they ever entered. If the quality 
 of being natural without being obvious is a pretty cor- 
 rect description of felicitous expression, or what is called 
 fine writing, it is a yet more accurate representation of 
 fine passages, or felicitous hits in speaking. In these 
 all popular assemblies take boundless delight ; by 
 these above all others are the minds of an audience 
 at pleasure moved or controlled. They form the grand 
 charm of Lord Chatham's oratory ; they were the dis- 
 tinguishing excellence of his great predecessor, and 
 gave him at will to wield the fierce democratie of 
 Athens, and to fulmine over Greece. 
 
 It was the sagacious remark of one of the most acute 
 of critics,* as well as historical inquirers, that criticism 
 never would be of any value until critics cited innumer- 
 able examples. In sketching the character of Lord 
 Chatham's oratory this becomes the more necessary, 
 that so few now living can have any recollection of it, 
 and that all our knowledge of its peculiar nature rests 
 upon a few scattered fragments. There is, however, 
 some security for our deducing from these a correct 
 notion of it, because they certainly, according to all 
 accounts, were the portions of his discourse which pro- 
 duced the most extraordinary effect, on which its fame 
 rests, and by which its quality is to be ascertained. A 
 few of these may, therefore, be referred to in closing the 
 present imperfect outline of this great man's eloquence. 
 
 His remark on confidence, when it was asked by 
 the ministry of 1766, for whom he had some forbear- 
 ance rather than any great respect, is well known. He 
 said their characters were fair enough, and he was al- 
 
 Hunie — Essays.
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 35 
 
 ways glad to see such persons engaged in the public 
 service ; but, turning to them Avith a smile, very cour- 
 teous, but not very respectful, he said — " Confide in 
 you ? Oh no — you must pardon me, gentlemen — youth 
 is the season of credulity — confidence is a plant of slow 
 growth in an aged bosom !" 
 
 Some one, having spoken of " the obstinacy of Ame- 
 rica," said " that she was almost in open rebellion." 
 Mr. Pitt exclaimed, " I rejoice that America has re- 
 sisted. Three millions of people, so dead to all the 
 feelings of liberty as voluntarily to let themselves be 
 made slaves, would have been fit instruments to make 
 slaves of all the rest !" — Then, speaking of the attempt 
 to keep her down — " In a just cause of quarrel you may 
 crush America to atoms ; but in this crying injustice !" 
 (Stamp Act) — " I am one who will lift up my hands 
 against it — In such a cause even 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 — to sheath the sword, not in 
 its scabbard, but in the bowels of your countrymen ?" 
 — It was in this debate that Mr. Burke first spoke, and 
 Mr. Pitt praised his speech in very flattering terms. 
 
 " Those iron barons (for so I may call them when 
 compared with the silken barons of modern days) were 
 the guardians of the people ; and three words of their 
 barbarous Latin, nullus liber homo, are worth all the 
 classics. Yet their virtues were never tried in a ques- 
 tion so important as this." (The Pretension of Privilege 
 in the House of Commons) — "A breach is made in the 
 Constitution — the battlements are dismantled — the 
 
 D 2
 
 36 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 citadel is open to the first invader — the walls totter — 
 the place is uo longer tenable — what then remains for 
 us but to stand foremost in the breach, to repair it, or 
 to perish in it ? — Unlimited power cornfpts the pos- 
 sessor ; and this I know, that where law ends, there 
 tyranny begins." 
 
 In reference to the same subject, the expulsion of Mr. 
 Wilkes, he exclaimed in a subsequent debate — " The 
 Constitution at this moment stands violated. If the 
 breach be effectually repaired the people will return 
 to tranquillity of themselves. If not, let discord reign 
 for ever ! — I know to what point my language will 
 appear directed. But I have the principles of an 
 Englishman, and I utter them without fear or reserve. 
 Rather than the Constitution should be tamely given 
 up, and our birthright be surrendered to a despotic 
 Minister, I hope, my Lords, old as I am, that I shall 
 see the question brought to an issue, and fairly tried 
 between the people and the Government." — Again he 
 said — " Macjna Charta— the Petition of Right — the Bill 
 of Rights — form the Bible of the English Consti- 
 tution. Had some of the King's unhappy predecessors 
 trusted less to the Commentary of their advisers, and 
 been better read in the Text itself, the glorious Revo- 
 lution might have remained only possible in theorj% 
 and their fate would not now have stood upon record, a 
 formidable example to all their successors." — " No man 
 more than I respects the just authority of the House 
 of Commons — no man would go farther to defend it. 
 But beyond the line of the Constitution, like every ex- 
 ercise of arbitrary power, it becomes illegal, threaten- 
 ing tyranny to the people, destruction to the state.
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 37 
 
 Power without right is the most detestable object that 
 can be offered to the human imagination ; it is not 
 only pernicious to those whom it subjects, but works 
 its own destruction. Res detestahilis et caduca. Un- 
 der pretence of declaring law, the Commons have 
 made a law, a law for their own case, and have united 
 in the same persons the offices of legislator and party 
 and judge." 
 
 These fine passages, conveying sentiments so noble 
 and so wise, may be read with advantage by the present 
 House of Commons when it shall again be called on to 
 resist the Judges of the land, and to break its laws, 
 by opening a shop for the sale of libels. 
 
 His character — drawn, he says, from long experience 
 — of the Spaniards, the high-minded chivalrous Casti- 
 lians, we believe to be as just as it is severe. Speaking 
 of the affair of Falkland's Island, he said, — "They are 
 as mean and crafty as they are insolent and proud. I 
 never yet met with an instance of candour or dignity 
 in their proceedings ; nothing but low cunning, arti- 
 fice, and trick. I was compelled to talk to them in a 
 peremptory language. I submitted my advice for an 
 immediate war to a trembling council. You all know 
 the consequences of its being rejected." — The speech 
 from the throne had stated that the Spanish Government 
 had disowned the act of its officer. Lord Chatham 
 said — ' There never was a more odious, a more infamous 
 falsehood imposed on a great nation. It degrades the 
 King, it insults the Parliament. His Majesty has 
 been advised to affirm an absolute falsehood. ]My 
 Lords, I beg your attention, and I hope I shall be un- 
 derstood when I repeat, that it is an absolute, a pal-
 
 38 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 pable falsehood. The King of Spain disowns the thief, 
 while he leaves him unpunished, and profits by his 
 theft. In vulgar English, he is the receiver of stolen 
 goods, and should be treated accordingly." How 
 would all the country, at least all the canting portion 
 of it, resound with the cry of " Coarse ! vulgar ! brutal !" 
 if such epithets and such comparisons as these were 
 used in any debate now-a-days, whether among the 
 " silken barons," or the " squeamish Commons" of our 
 time ! 
 
 In 1775 he made a most brilliant speech on the war. 
 Speaking of General Gage's inactivity, he said it could 
 not be l)lamed ; it was inevitable. " But what a 
 miserable condition," he exclaimed, " is ours, where 
 disgrace is prudence, and where it is necessary to be 
 contemptible ! You must repeal these acts," (he said, 
 alluding to the Boston Ports and INIassachusetts Bay 
 Bills,) " and you will repeal them. I pledge myself 
 for it, that you will repeal them. I stake my reputa- 
 tion on it. I will consent to be taken for an idiot if 
 they are not finally repealed." Every one knows how 
 true this prophecy proved. The concluding sentence 
 of the speech has been often cited, — " If the ministers 
 persevere in misleading the King, I will not say that 
 they can alienate the aiFections of his subjects from 
 his crown ; but I will affirna that they will make the 
 crown not worth his Avearing. I will not say that the 
 King is betrayed ; but I will pronounce that the king- 
 dom is undone." 
 
 Again, in 1777, after describing the cause of the 
 Avar and " the traffic and barter driven Avith CA'ery 
 little pitiful German Prince that sells his subjects to
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 39 
 
 the shambles of a foreign country," he adds, " The 
 mercenary aid on which you rely irritates to an in- 
 curable resentment the minds of your enemies, whom 
 you overrun with the sordid sons of rapine and of 
 plunder, devoting them and tlieir possessions to the 
 rapacity of hireling cruelty ! If I were an American, 
 as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop Avas 
 landed in my country, I never would lay down my 
 arms, never ! never ! never !" Such language, used in 
 the modern days of ultra loyalty and extreme decorum, 
 would call down upon his head who employed it the 
 charge of encouraging rebels, and partaking as an 
 accomplice in their treasons. 
 
 It was upon this memorable occasion that he made 
 the famous reply to Lord Suffolk, who had said, in 
 reference to employing the Indians, that " we were 
 justified in using all the means Avhich God and nature 
 had put into our hands." The circumstance of Lord 
 Chatham having himself revised this speech is an in- 
 ducement to insert it here at length. 
 
 " I am astonished," exclaimed Lord Chatham, as he rose, 
 '' shocked, to hear such principles confessed, to hear them 
 avowed, in this House or in this country ; principles equally 
 unconstitutional, inhuman, and unchristian. 
 
 " j\Ty Lords, I did not intend to have trespassed again on 
 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. That God and nature put ififo our 
 hands ! — I know not what idea that Lord may entertain of 
 God and nature, but I know that such abominable principles are 
 equally abhorrent to religion and humanity. What ! attribute
 
 40 LORD CHATHAJf. 
 
 the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacres of the 
 Indian scalping-knife, to the cannibal savage, torturing, mur- 
 dering, roasting, and eating; literally, my Lords, eating the 
 mancrled victims of his barbarous battles ! Such horrible 
 notions shock every precept of religion, divine and 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 barbarit j'. 
 
 "These abominable principles, and this more abominable 
 avowal of them, demand most decisive indignation. I call 
 upon that Right Reverend Bencli, those holy ministers of the 
 gospel, and pious pastors of the Church : I conjure them to 
 join in the holy work, and to vindicate the religion of their 
 God. I appeal to tlie 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 unsullied 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 charac- 
 ter. I invoke the genius of the constitution. From the 
 tapestry that 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 
 his country, against the arbitrary cruelties of Popery and the 
 Inquisition, if these more than Popish cruelties and inquisi- 
 torial practices are let loose amongst us, to turn forth into 
 our settlements, among our ancient connexions, 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 lav 
 waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate 
 their race and name with these horrible hell-hounds of savage
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 41 
 
 war — hell-hounds, I say, of savage war. Spain armed her- 
 self with blood-hounds to extirpate the wretched natives of 
 America, and we improve on the inhuman example of even 
 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 oiu- honour, our constitution, and our 
 religion, demands the most solemn and effectual inquiry; and 
 I again call upon your Lordsliips, 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 my indignation were too strong 
 to have said less. I could not have slept this night in my 
 bed, or have reposed my head on my pillow, without giving 
 this vent to my eternal abhorrence of such preposterous and 
 enormous principles."* 
 
 There are other celebrated passages of his speeches 
 in all men's mouths. His indignant and contemptuous 
 answer to the Minister's boast of driving the Americans 
 before the army — " I might as well think of driving 
 them before me with this crutch !" — is well known. Per- 
 haps the finest of them all is his allusion to the maxim 
 of English law, that every man's house is his castle. 
 " The poorest man may in liis cottage bid defiance to 
 all the forces of the Crown. It may be frail — its roof 
 
 * There hangs so much doubt upon the charge brought against 
 l^ord Chatham, of having himself employed the Indians in the former 
 war, that the subject is reserved for the Appendix.
 
 42 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 may shake — ^the wind may blow through it — the storm 
 may enter — the rain may enter — but the King of Eng- 
 land cannot enter !— all his force dares not cross the 
 threshold of the ruined tenement !" 
 
 These examples may serve to convey a pretty ac- 
 curate idea of the peculiar vein of eloquence which 
 distinguished this great man's speeches. It was of 
 the very highest order ; vehement, fiery, close to the 
 subject, concise, sometimes eminently, even boldly 
 figurative: it was original and surprising, yet quite 
 natural. To call it argumentative would be an abuse 
 of terms; but it had always a sufficient foundation 
 of reason to avoid any appearance of inconsistency, or 
 error, or wandering from the point. So the greatest 
 passages in the Greek orations were very far from being 
 such as could stand the test of close examination in re- 
 gard to their argument. Yet would it be hypercritical 
 indeed to object that Demosthenes, in the most cele- 
 brated burst of all ancient eloquence, argues for his po- 
 licy being rewarded although it led to defeat, by citing 
 the example of public honours having been bestowed 
 upon those who fell in gaining five great victories. 
 
 Some have compared Mr. Fox's eloquence to that of 
 Demosthenes ; but it resembled Lord Chatham's just 
 as much, if not more. It was incomparably more argu- 
 mentative than either the Greek or the English orator's ; 
 neither of whom carried on chains of close reasoning as 
 he did, though both kept close to their subject. It 
 was, however, exceedingly the reverse of the Attic 
 orator's in method, in diction, in conciseness. It had 
 nothing like arrangement of any kind. Except in the 
 more vehement passages, its diction was perhaps as slo-
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 43 
 
 venly, certainly as careless as possible, betokening in- 
 deed a contempt of all accurate composition. It was 
 diffuse in the highest degree, and abounded in repe- 
 titions. While the Greek was concise, almost to being 
 jejune, the Englishman was diffuse, almost to being pro- 
 lix. How the notion of comparing the two together 
 ever could have prevailed, seems unaccountable, unless 
 it be that men have supposed them alike because e they 
 were both vehement, and both kept the subject in view 
 rather than run after ornament. But that the most ela- 
 borate and artificial compositions in the world should 
 have been likened to the most careless, and natural, and 
 unprepared, that were ever delivered in public, would 
 seem wholly incredible if it were not true. The bursts 
 of Mr. Fox, however, though less tersely and concisely 
 composed, certainly have some resemblance to Lord 
 Chatham's, only that they betray far less fancy, and, 
 however vehement and fiery, are incomparably less bold. 
 ]\Ir. Pitt's oratory, though admirably suited to its pur- 
 pose, and as perfect a business kind of speaking as ever 
 was heard, certainly resembled none of the three others 
 who have been named. In point of genius, unless per- 
 haps for sarcasm, he was greatly their inferior ; although, 
 from the unbroken fluency of his appropriate language, 
 and the power of an eminently sonorous voice, he pro- 
 duced the most prodigious effect. 
 
 It remains to speak of Lord Chatham as a private 
 man, and he appears to have been in all respects exem- 
 plary and amiable. His disposition was exceedingly 
 affectionate. The pride, bordering upon insolence, in 
 which he showed himself encased to the world, fell na- 
 turally from him, and without any effort to put it off, as
 
 44 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 he crossed the threshold of his own door. To all his 
 family he was simple, kindly, and gentle. His pursuits 
 were of a nature that showed how much he loved to un- 
 bend himself. He delighted in poetry and other light 
 reading ; was fond of music ; loved the country ; took 
 peculiar pleasure in gardening ; and had even an ex- 
 tremely happy taste in laying out grounds. His early 
 education appears to have been further prosecuted after- 
 wards ; and he was familiar with the Latin classics, al- 
 though there is no reason to believe that he had much 
 acquaintance with the Greek. In all our own classical 
 writers he was well versed ; and his time was much 
 given to reading them. A correspondence with his 
 nephew, which Lord Grenville published about five 
 and thirty years ago, showed how simple and classical 
 his tastes were, Iioav affectionate his feelings, and how 
 strong his sense of both moral and religious duty. 
 These letters are reprinted in a work now in the course 
 of publication by the family of Lord Chatham, because 
 the answers have since been recovered ; and it contains 
 a great body of other letters both to and from him. 
 Amongst the latter, are to be found constant tokens of 
 his amiable disposition. 
 
 The most severe judge of human actions, the critic 
 whose searching eye looks for defects in every por- 
 trait, and regards it as a fiction, not a likeness, when he 
 fails to find any, will naturally ask if such a character 
 as Lord Chatham's could be without reproach ; if feel- 
 ings so strong never boiled over in those passions which 
 are dangerous to virtue ; if fervour of soul such as his 
 could be at all times kept within the bounds which se- 
 parate the adjoining provinces of vehemence and intern-
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 45 
 
 perance ? Nor will he find reason to doubt the reality of 
 the picture which he is scrutinising when we have added 
 the traits that undeniably disfigured it. Some we have 
 already thrown in ; but they rather are shades that give 
 effect and relief to the rest, than deformities or defects. 
 It must now be further recorded, that not only was he 
 impracticable, difiicult beyond all men to act with, over- 
 bearing, impetuously insisting upon his own views being 
 adopted by all as infallible, utterly regardless of other 
 men's opinions when he had formed his own, as little 
 disposed to profit by the lights of their wisdom as 
 to avail himself of their co-operative efforts in action — 
 all this is merely the excess of his great qualities run- 
 ning loose uncontrouled — but he appears to have been 
 very far from sustaining the exalted pitch of magnani- 
 mous independence and utter disregard of sublunary in- 
 terests which we should expect him to have reached and 
 kept as a matter of course, from a more cursory glance 
 at the mould in which his lofty character was cast. 
 Without alloMnng considerable admixture of the clay 
 which forms earthly mortals to have entered into his 
 composition, how can we account for the violence of his 
 feelings, when George III. showed him some small 
 signs of kindness in the closet, upon his giving up the 
 seals of office. " I confess. Sir, I had but too much reason 
 to expect your Majesty's displeasure. I had not come pre- 
 pared for this exceeding goodness. — Pardon me, Sir," 
 he passionately exclaimed — " it overpowers — it oppresses 
 me !" and he burst into tears in the presence of one who, as 
 a moment's reflection must have convinced him, was play- 
 ing a part to undermine his character, destroy his influ- 
 ence, and counteract all his great designs for his coun-
 
 46 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 try's good. But some misplaced sentiments of loyalty 
 may have produced this strange paroxysm of devotion. 
 The colour assumed by his gratitude for favours con- 
 ferred upon his family and himself was of a more vulgar 
 hue, and still less harmonised with the Great Commoner's 
 exalted nature. On learning the King's intention to 
 grant him a pension (in order effectually to undo him), 
 he Avrites to Lord Bute a letter full of the most humili- 
 ating effusions of extravagant thankfulness — speaks of 
 " being confounded with the King's condescension in 
 deieninff to bestow one thought on the mode of extend- 
 ing to him his royal beneficence" — considers " any mark 
 of approbation flowing from such a spontaneous source 
 of clemency as his comfort and his glory" — and pro- 
 strates himself in the very dust for daring to refuse the 
 kind of provision tendered " by the King in a manner 
 so infinitely gracious" — and proposing, instead of it, a 
 pension for his family. When this prayer was granted, 
 the effusions of gratitude " for these unbounded effects 
 of beneficence and grace which the most benign of 
 Sovereigns has condescended to bestow," are still more 
 extravagant ; and " he dares to hope that the same royal 
 benevolence which showers on the unmeritorious such 
 unlimited benefits may deign to accept the genuine tri- 
 bute of the truly feeUng heart with equal condescension 
 and goodness." It is painful to add what truth extorts, 
 that this is really not the sentiment and the language 
 with which a patriot leaves his Sovereign's councils upon 
 a broad difference of honest opinion, and after being 
 personally ill used by that monarch's favourites, but the 
 tone of feeling, and even the style of diction, in which a 
 condemned felon, having sued for mercy, returns thanks
 
 LORD CHATHAM. 47 
 
 when his life has been spared. The pain of defacing 
 any portion of so noble a portrait as Lord Chatham's 
 must not prevent us from marking the traits of a some- 
 what vulgar, if not a sordid, kind, which are to be found 
 on a closer inspection of the original. 
 
 Such was the man whom George III. most feared, 
 most hated, and most exerted his kingcraft to disarm ; 
 and such, unhappily, was his momentary success in 
 this long-headed enterprise against the liberties of his 
 people and their champions ; for Lord Chatham's po- 
 pularity, struck down by his pension, was afterwards 
 annihilated by his peerage.
 
 LORD NORTH. 
 
 The minister whom George III. most loved was, as has 
 been already said, Lord North, and this extraordinary 
 favour lasted until the period of the Coalition. It is no 
 doubt a commonly-received notion, and was at one time 
 an article of belief among the popular party, that Lord 
 Bute continued his secret adviser after the termination 
 of his short administrtation ; but this is wholly without 
 foundation. The King never had any kind of com- 
 munication with him, directly or indirectly ; nor did he 
 ever see him but once, and the history of that occur- 
 rence suddenly puts the greater part of the stories 
 to flight which are current upon this subject. His aunt, 
 the Princess Amelia, had some jdan of again bringing 
 the two parties together, and on a day when George III. 
 was to pay lier a visit at her villa of Gunnersbury, near 
 Brentford, she invited Lord B\ite, whom she probably 
 had never informed of her foolish intentions. He was 
 walking in the garden when she took her nephew 
 down stairs to view it, saying, there was no one there 
 but an old friend of his, whom he had not seen for 
 some ye.irs. He had not time to ask who it might be, 
 when, on entering the garden, he saw his former minis- 
 ter walking up an alley. The King instantly turned 
 back to avoid him, reproved the silly old woman 
 sharply, and declared that, if ever she repeated such 
 experiments, she had seen him for the last time in her
 
 LORD NORTH. 49 
 
 house. The assertion tliat the common reports are 
 utterly void of all tbimdation, and that no communi- 
 cation whatever of any kind or upon any matter, public 
 or private, ever took place between the parties, we make 
 upon the most positive information, proceeding directly 
 both from George III. and from Lord Bute. But we 
 go farther ; the story is contrary to all probability ; for 
 that Prince, as well as others of his family, more than 
 suspected the intimacy between his old governor and 
 his royal mother, and, according to the nature of 
 princes of either sex, he never forgave it. The like- 
 lihood is, that this came to his knowledge after the 
 period of his first illness, and the Regency Bill which 
 he, in consequence of that circumstance, proposed to 
 parliament ; for it is well kno^vn that he then had so 
 much regard for the Dowager Princess, as to turn out 
 George Grenville because he passed her over as Regent. 
 Consequently, the discovery which we are supposing 
 him to have made must have been some time after 
 Lord Bute's ministry closed. Certain it is that the 
 feeling towards him had become, for some reason or 
 other, not neutral, negative, or passive ; but such as 
 rules men, and still more princes, when favour is suc- 
 ceeded by dislike ; for we may then say what was so 
 wittily observed respecting Louis XV. on a very dif- 
 ferent occasion — " II n'y a rien de petit chez les 
 grands." His correspondence with his other ministers, 
 to which we have had access, speaks the same lan- 
 guage ; a very marked prejudice is constantly be- 
 trayed against Scotchmen and Scotcli politics. 
 
 The origin of Lord North's extraordinary favour 
 was his at once consenting to take the oflice of prime 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 LORD NORTH. 
 
 minister when the Duke of Grafton, in a moment of 
 considerable public difficulty and embarrassment, of 
 Avliat, in those easy days of fairweather, was called 
 danger, suddenly threw up the seals, and retired to 
 his diversions and his mistress at Newmarket. Lord 
 North was then Chancellor of the Exchequer, and 
 leader of the House of Commons. He had thus 
 already the most arduous by far of the government 
 duties cast upon him ; and his submitting to bear also 
 the nominal functions and real patronage and power 
 of First Lord of the Treasury, seemed but a slender 
 eflfort of courage or self-devotion. As such, however, 
 the King considered it ; nor during the disastrous and 
 really difficult times which his own obstinate bigotry 
 and strong tyrannical propensities brought upon the 
 country, did he ever cease to feel and to testify the 
 lively sense he always felt of the obligation under 
 Avhich Lord North had laid him personally, by com- 
 ing to his assistance upon that emergency. In fact 
 responsibility, Avhich to almost all official person- 
 ages proves tlie greatest trial, is the most heavily 
 felt, and the most willingly shunned, presses with 
 peculiar weight upon the great public functionarj', 
 who by law is wholly exempt from it, and in practice 
 never can know it, unless during the interval between 
 one ministry and another. The less he is in general 
 accustomed to this burthen, the more hard does he 
 find it to bear when he has no minister to cast it upon. 
 Accordingly kings are peculiarly helpless, extremely 
 anxious, and not a little alarmed, when any event has, 
 as they term it, " left them without a government." 
 The relief is proportionably great which they expe-
 
 LORD NORTH. 51 
 
 rience when any one, after such an interregnum in 
 times of difficulty, " comes (as they also term it) to 
 their assistance," and " consents to stand by them." 
 This Lord North did for George III. in 1772; and 
 his conduct never was forgotten by that Prince. In- 
 deed, the gratitude and personal affection is very re- 
 markable which he showed ever after ; at least till the 
 fatal Coalition on which so many political reputations 
 Avere shipwrecked, and so total a loss was made of 
 both court and popular favour ; and it forms one of the 
 not very numerous amiable traits in his character. A 
 striking instance has already been given in speaking of 
 this Monarch. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that he was singularly 
 fortunate in the minister whom he thus obtained, and, 
 indeed, in the change which he made. The Duke of 
 Grafton, though a man endowed with many valuable 
 qualities for his high station, remarkable for a libe- 
 rality on ecclesiastical matters rare in any rank, and 
 any one thing rather than the character painted by 
 the pei'severing malice and audacious calumnies of 
 Junius, who made him and the Duke of Bedford, 
 together with Lord IMansfield, the choice objects 
 of his unsparing and systematic abuse, was never- 
 theless of no great weight in debate, and of habits 
 which the aristocratic life in those days had little 
 fitted to meet the unceasing claims of official duty 
 upon a statesman's time and attention. The indus- 
 try of professional slanderers, too, being counteracted 
 by no brilliant political achievements, had concurred 
 with the discontents prevailing at home, and dis- 
 sentions yet more formidably showing themselves in 
 
 E 2
 
 52 LORD NORTH. 
 
 the colonies, to lower his reputation in the country, 
 and to make the task of government such as he plainly 
 shrank from. 
 
 The helm thus abandoned, fell into the hands of 
 Lord North, then in the vigour of his faculties, in 
 no respect disadvantageously known to the country, 
 and an undoubted favourite ^vith the House, which 
 for some time he had led. His success there was 
 very considerable. Few men in any station have, 
 indeed, left behind them a higher reputation as a 
 debater, and above all, as the repi'esentative of the 
 government, ^^'^e now speak of his fame after his 
 accession to the chief command in the public councils, 
 as well as the warfare of parliament, had consolidated 
 his authority, exhibited his debating powers, and mul- 
 tiplied his victories. It was his lot to maintain the 
 conflict in times of unprecedented difliculty, and 
 against antagonists such as no minister ever had to 
 meet, if we except JNIr. Addington, who was speedily 
 overthrown in the rencounter. The resistance of our 
 whole American empire had ended in a general re- 
 bellion, and all the military prowess failed to quell it, 
 as all the political measures of the government had failed 
 to prevent it, or rather had ripened discontent into revolt. 
 A series of political disappointments first, and then of 
 military disasters^ had made our American affairs hope- 
 less, when the war extended itself to Europe^ and our 
 hitherto invincible na\-y could not prevent the English 
 coasts and even harbours from being insulted, while 
 our West India islands were ravaged, and our trade in 
 those seas was swept away by the enemy's marine. Nor 
 had the nation the accustomed consolation and govern- 
 ment the usual topic of defence, that our disasters
 
 LORD NORTH. 53 
 
 befel us tlirough the proverbially fickle fortune of war 
 and the chances of the elements. Every one failure 
 could be traced to the perverse course of impolicy and 
 injustice combined, in which the colonial revolt took its 
 rise. The Americans, unprepared for resistance, and 
 unwilling to risk it, had been driven on by the tyran- 
 nical bigotry which presided over our councils, and for 
 which the King was really answerable, although by 
 the fictions of the constitution his servants only could 
 be blamed. Add to this, that the opposition was led 
 first by Mr. Burke, and afterwards by Mr. Fox, both 
 in the prime of their extraordinary faculties, ranking 
 among their zealous adherents such men as Barre, 
 Dunning, Lee, supported by the whole phalanx of 
 the Whig aristocracy, and backed always by the pro- 
 digious weight of Lord Chatham's authority ; occa- 
 sionally by the exertions of his splendid eloquence, 
 burning brighter than ever as it approached the hour 
 of its extinction. The voice of the people, at first raised 
 against the colonies, soon became loud against the 
 government ; and each blunder and each disaster made 
 the storm of public indignation rage more and more 
 violently. Even in point of numbers the parlia- 
 mentary forces were not so unequally matched as we 
 have seen them during subsequent seasons of warlike 
 discomfiture ; for while Mr. Pitt has had majorities of 
 three or four to one in his support, under all the failures 
 of his continental projects, Lord North was frequently 
 reduced to fight with majorities so scanty, as rather 
 resembled the more recent balance of parliamentary 
 power, than the ordinary ^vorkings of our constitution. 
 Such was the strife, and in such untoward circum-
 
 54 LORD NORTH. 
 
 stances, which Lord North had to maintain, with the 
 help only of his attorney and solicitor-general, Thur- 
 low and ^^^edderburne, to whom was afterwards added 
 Dundas. But a weight far more than sufficient to 
 counterbalance tliis accession was about the same time 
 flung into the opposite scale, and rendered its pre- 
 ponderance still more decided. Mr. Pitt signalized his 
 entrance into Parliament by the most extraordinary 
 eloquence, at once matured and nearly perfect in its 
 kind, and by lending all its aid and all its ornament to 
 the opposition. Nothing daunted, the veteran minister 
 persevered in maintaining the conflict, and was only 
 driven from the helm after he had fought triumphantly 
 for six years against the greater part of the Whig 
 chiefs, and desperately for two more against the whole 
 of the body thus powerfully remforced. 
 
 All contemporary reports agree in representing his 
 talents as having shone with a great and a steady lustre 
 during this singularly trying period, ^^'^ithout any pre- 
 tensions to fill the higher ranks of eloquence, with no 
 accomplishments of learning beyond the scholarship 
 which a well-educated Englishman gains at Oxford, with 
 political information such as the historical reading of 
 well-informed men could give, he displayed so thorough 
 an acquaintance with official and Parhamentary busi- 
 ness as easily supplied all defects in those days of 
 scanty political acquirement, while his clear excellent 
 sense, which never failed him and constantly gave him 
 the victory over men of more brilliant genius ; his na- 
 tural tact, still further improved by practice and deep 
 knowledge of men ; his ready fluency; his cool deter- 
 mined courage — would altogether have made him a most
 
 LORD NORTH. 55 
 
 accomplished debater, even independent of those pecu- 
 liar qualities iti which he, and indeed all his family, 
 excelled most other men — qualities of singidar virtue 
 in any station of either house of Parliament, but in 
 him who holds the first place, of most sovereign efficacy 
 in retaining and rallying his followers, and in con- 
 ciliating the audience at large — a wit that never failed 
 him, and a suavity of temper that could never be 
 ruffled. Combating his powerful adversaries at such a 
 disadvantage as he, for the most part, was compelled to 
 Avork up against, from the almost unbroken series of 
 failures which he was called to defend or extenuate 
 his tactics were greatly admired as well as his gal- 
 lantry. Nothing perhaps in this way ever showed both 
 skill and boldness more than his unexpectedly granting 
 a motion for inquiring into the State of the Nation, 
 supposed in parliamentary procedure to be a vote of dis- 
 trust in the INIinistry ; for when, to a long and powerful 
 speech introducing that proposition, he contented hhn- 
 self with making an able and complete reply, and then 
 suddenly professed his full readiness to meet the ques- 
 tion in detail, by going at once into the committee, the 
 enemy were taken altogether unprepared, and the whole 
 aifair evaporated in smoke. 
 
 To give examples of his unbroken good-humour, 
 as enviable as it was amiable, and perhaps still more 
 useful than either, would be to relate the history of 
 almost each night's debate during the American war. 
 The rage of party never was carried to greater excess, 
 nor ever more degenerated into mere personal violence. 
 Constant threats of impeachment, fierce attacks upon 
 himself and all his connexions, mingled execration of
 
 56 LORD NORTH. 
 
 his measures and scorn of his capacity, bitter hatred of 
 his person — the elaborate, and dazzling, and learned 
 fancy of Burke, the unbridled licence of invective in 
 which the young blood of Fox nightly boiled over, the 
 epigrams of Barre, the close reasoning and legal sub- 
 tlety of Dunning, the broad humour and argumenta- 
 tive sarcasm of Lee — were, without intermission, ex- 
 hausted upon the minister, and seemed to have no effect 
 upon his habitually placid deportment, nor to consume 
 his endless patience, while they wearied out his impla- 
 cable antagonists. By a plain homely answer he could 
 blunt the edge of the fiercest declamation or most re- 
 fined sarcasm ; with his pleasantry, never far-fetched, 
 nor ever over-done, or misplaced, or forced, he could turn 
 away wrath and refresh the jaded listeners, while, by his 
 undisturbed temper, he made them Ijelieve he had the 
 advantage, and could turn into a laugh, at the assailant's 
 expense, the invective which had been destined to crush 
 himself. On one or two occasions, not many, the cor- 
 respondence of contemporary writers makes mention of 
 his serenity having been ruffled, as a proof to what ex- 
 cesses of violence the opposition had been carried, but 
 also as an occurrence almost out of the ordinary course 
 of nature. And, truly, of those excesses there needs no 
 other instance be cited than ]\Ir. Fox declaring, with 
 nuich emphasis, his opinion of the Minister to be such 
 that he should deem it unsafe to be alone with him in 
 a room. 
 
 But if it would be endless to recount the triumphs of 
 his temper, it would be equally so and far more difficult 
 to record those of his ^it. It appears to have been of 
 a kind peculiarly characteristic and eminently natural ;
 
 LORD NORTH. 57 
 
 playing easily and without the least effort ; jjerfectly 
 suited to his placid nature, by being what Clarendon 
 says of Charles II., " a pleasant, affable, recommend- 
 ing sort of wit ;" wholly unpretending ; .so exquisitely 
 suited to the occasion that it never failed of effect, yet 
 so readily produced and so entirely unambitious, that 
 although it had occurred to nobody before, every one 
 wondered it had not suggested itself to all. A few only 
 of his sayings have reached us, and these, as might be 
 expected, are rather things which he had chanced to coat 
 over with some sarcasm or epigram that tended to pre- 
 serve them ; they consequently are far from giving an 
 idea of his habitual pleasantry and the gaiety of thought 
 which generally pervaded his speeches. Thus, when a 
 vehement declaimer, calling aloud for his head, turned 
 round and perceived his victim unconsciously indulging 
 in a soft slumber, and, becoming still more exasperated, 
 denounced the Minister as capable of sleeping while he 
 ruined his country — the latter only complained how cruel 
 it was to be denied a solace which other criminals so 
 often enjoyed, that of having a night's rest before their 
 fate. When surprised m a like indulgence during the 
 performance of a very inferior artist, who, however, 
 showed equal indignation at so ill-timed a recreation, he 
 contented himself with observing how hard it was that he 
 should be grudged so very natural a release from consi- 
 derable suflFering ; but, as if recollecting himself, added, 
 that it was somewhat imjust in the gentleman to com- 
 plain of him for taking the remedy which he had himself 
 been considerate enoueli to administer. The same jrood- 
 humour and drollery (juitted him not when in opposition. 
 Every one has heard of the speech which, if it had failed
 
 58 LORD NORTH. 
 
 to injure the objects of its attack, was very eflFectual in 
 affixing a name upon its honest and much respected au- 
 thor. On INIr. Martin's proposal to have a starhng placed 
 near the chair and taught to repeat the ciy of " Infa- 
 mous coalition ! " Lord North coolly suggested that, as 
 long as the worthy member was preserved to them, it 
 would be a needless waste of the public money, since tlie 
 starling might well perform his office by deputy. That 
 in society such a man must have been the most delight- 
 ful of companions may well be supposed. In his family, 
 and in all his private intercourse as in his personal cha- 
 racter, he was known to be in every respect amiable ; 
 of scrupulous integrity and unsullied honour. 
 
 As a statesman, his merits are confessedly far in- 
 ferior to those which clothed him as a debater and as 
 a man. The American war is the great blot upon his 
 fame ; for his share in the Coalition was only excep- 
 tionable on account of the bitterness with which his 
 adversaries had so long pursued him ; and if they could 
 submit to the fellowship of one upon whom they had 
 heaped such unmeasured abuse, they seemed to recant, 
 or even to confess that the opinions which tiiey had 
 previously professed of him, they had not really enter- 
 tained. That ill-fated measure of the ^^^higs seemed 
 to be rather a tribute of tardy justice to their great 
 adversary, and it was not for hhn either to reject it or 
 to scrutinize the motives from which it was paid. But 
 the policy towards our colonies, of which he had been 
 the leading advocate in Parliament, and for which he 
 was primarily responsible as minister, can admit of no 
 defence ; nor in his position, and upon so momentous 
 a (juestiou, is it possible to urge, even in extenuation of
 
 LORD NORTH. 59 
 
 his offending, that he was all along aware of the King's 
 egregious folly, which obstinately persisted in a hope- 
 less and ruinous struggle against the liberties of his 
 people. That this, however, was the fact, there exists 
 no kind of doubt ; he was long resolved to quit the 
 helm, because George III. insisted on a wrong course 
 being steered — that helm which he ought to have t(uit- 
 ted as soon as his mind was made up to differ with 
 the owner of the vessel, unless he were permitted to 
 follow his own course ; and he was only kept at his 
 post by constant entreaties, by monthly expostulations, 
 by the most vehement protestations of the misguided 
 Prince against a proceeding which must leave him 
 helpless in the hands of his hnplacable enemies, and 
 even by promises always renewed to let him go would 
 he but remain for a few weeks, until some other arrange- 
 ment could be made. It is fit that this certain and 
 important fact should be stated ; and we have before 
 us the proofs of it under the hand of the Royal Suitor 
 to his reluctant servant's grace and favour, whose 
 apparently fixed purpose of retirement, he uses all these 
 expedients to defeat, or at least to obstruct and retard, 
 if he cannot frustrate. This importunity working upon 
 the feelings of a well-natured ])erson like Lord North, 
 might easily be expected to produce its intended effect ; 
 and the unavoidable difficulty of retreating from a post 
 which while he held it, had become one of peril as well 
 as embarrassment, doubtless increased the difficulty of 
 abandoning it while the danger lasted. 
 
 But although we may thus explain, we are not the 
 better enabled to excuse the minister's conduct. When 
 he found that he could no longer approve the policy
 
 60 LORD NORTH. 
 
 which he was required to pursue, aud of course to 
 defend, he was hound to quit the councils of his obsti- 
 nate and unreasonable Sovereign. Nor can there be a 
 worse service either to the Prince or his people, than 
 enabling a jMouarch to rule in his own person, dictating 
 the commands of his own violence or caprice, through 
 servants who disapprove of his measures, and yet suffer 
 themselves to be made instruments for carrj'ing them 
 into execution. A bad King can desire nothing more 
 than to be served by such persons, whose opinions he 
 will as much disregard as their inclinations, but whom 
 he will always find his tools in doing the work of mis- 
 chief, because they become the more at the Monarch's 
 mercy in proportion as they have surrendered their 
 principles and their will to his. Far, then, verj' far 
 from vindicating the conduct of Lord North in this 
 essential point, we hesitate not to affirm that the dis- 
 crepancy between his sentiments and his measures is 
 not even any extenuation of the disastrous policy 
 which gave us, for the fruits of a long and disas- 
 trous war, the dismemberment of the empire. In 
 truth, what otherwise might have been regarded as 
 an error of judgment, became an offence, only pal- 
 liated by considering those kindly feelings of a per- 
 sonal kind which governed him, but which every 
 statesman, indeed every one who acts in any capacity 
 as trustee for others, is imperatively called upon to 
 disregard. 
 
 While, however, truth requires this statement, justice 
 equally demands that, in thus denouncing his offence, 
 we should mark how very far it is from being a solitary 
 ease of political misconduct. Upon how many other
 
 LORD NORTH. 61 
 
 great occasions have other ministers sacrificed their 
 principles, not to the good-natured Avish that the King 
 might not be disturbed, but to the more sordid appre- 
 hension that tlieir own government might be broken 
 up, and their adversaries displace them, if they man- 
 fully acted up to their well known and oftentimes 
 recorded opinions ? How many of those who, but for 
 this unwelcome retrospect into their own lives, which 
 are thus forcing upon them, would be the very first to 
 pronounce a pharisaical condemnation on Lord North, 
 have adopted the views of their opponents, rather than 
 yield them up their places by courageously and honestly 
 pursuing the course prescribed by their own ? Let us 
 be just to both parties : but first to the conductor of 
 the American war, by calling to mind the similar 
 delinquency of some who have succeeded to his power, 
 with capacity of a higher order than his, and of some 
 W'ho resembled him only in their elevation to high 
 office, without his talents to sustain it or to adorn. The 
 subject, too, has a deeper and more general interest 
 than merely that of dispensing justice among indivi- 
 duals ; it concerns the very worst offence of which a 
 minister can be guilty — the abandonment of his own 
 principles for place, and counselling his Sovereign and 
 his country, not according to his conscience, but accord- 
 ing to what, being most palatable to them, is most 
 beneficial to the man himself 
 
 Mr. Pitt joining the war party in 179-3, the most 
 striking and the most fatal instance of this offence, is 
 the one which at once presents itself; because of all 
 Lord North's adversaries there was none who pursued 
 him with such unrelenting rancour, to the pitch of pe-
 
 62 LORD NORTH. 
 
 remptorily refusing all negociations with the Fox party, 
 unless their new ally should be expelled, when he, with 
 a magnanimity rare indeed among statesmen, instantly 
 removed the obstacle to his bitter adversary's elevation, 
 by withdrawing all claims to a share of power. No one 
 more clearly than JMr. Pitt saw the ruinous consequences 
 of the contest into which his new associates, the desert- 
 ers from the ^^^hig standard, were drawing or were 
 driving him ; none so clearly perceived or so highly 
 valued the blessings of peace, as the finance minister, 
 who had but the year before accompanied his reduc- 
 tion of the whole national establishment with a picture 
 of our future prosperity almost too glowing even for 
 his great eloquence to attempt. Accordingly it is well 
 known, nor is it ever contradicted by his few surviving 
 friends, that his thoughts were all turned to peace. 
 But the voice of the court was for war ; the aristocracy 
 was for war ; the country was not disinclined towards 
 war, being just in that state of excitable (though as yet 
 not excited) feeling which it depended upon the go- 
 vernment, that is, upon Mr. Pitt, either to calm down 
 into a sufferance of peace, or rouse into a vehement de- 
 sire of hostilities. In these circumstances, the able 
 tactician whose genius was confined to parliamentary 
 operations, at once perceived that a war must place him 
 at the head of all the power in the state, and, by uniting 
 with him the more aristocratic portion of the Whigs, 
 cripple his adversaries irreparably ; and he preferred 
 flinging his country into a contest which he and his 
 great antagonist by uniting their forces must have pi-e- 
 vented ; but then he must also have shared with INIr. 
 Fox the poA^er which he was determined to enjoy
 
 LORD NORTH. 63 
 
 alone and supreme. This was a far worse offence 
 than Lord North's ; although the country, or at least 
 the patrician party, shared with the crown the preju- 
 dices to which Mr. Pitt surrendeied his own judgment, 
 and the power to reward his welcome conversion. The 
 youngest man living will not survive the fatal effects of 
 this flagrant political crime. 
 
 The abandonment of the Catholic question by the 
 same minister when he returned to power in 1804, and 
 the similar sacrifice which the \^'higs made at his 
 death to the bigotry of George III., are often cited as 
 examples of the same delinquency. But neither the one 
 nor the other of these passages presents anything like 
 the same aspect with the darker scene of place-loving 
 propensities which we have just been surveying. The 
 marked difference is the state of the war ; the great 
 desire which the Pitt party had of conducting hostilities 
 with vigour, and which the Fox party had of bringing 
 them to a close. The more recent history, however, of 
 the same question affords instances more parallel to 
 those of the American and the French wars. When 
 peace was restored, and when even the obstacle to the 
 emancipation presented by George III.'s obstinate bi- 
 gotry was removed, they who had so long talked the 
 uncouth language, so strange to the constitution of a 
 free country, of yielding to " unhappy prejudices in a 
 high quarter, impossible to be removed," had now no 
 longer any pretext for uttering such sounds as those. 
 The Regent, afterwards the King, had no prejudices 
 which any man, be Ids nature ever so sensitive, was 
 called on to respect ; for he had, up to the illness of 
 his father, been a warm friend of the Catholics. Yet,
 
 64 LORD NORTH. 
 
 no sooner did he declare against his former principles, 
 than Lord Castlereagh and JMr. Canning also declared 
 that his conscience (the scrupulous conscience of 
 George IV. I) must not be forced, and one administration 
 Avas formed after another upon the principle of aban- 
 doning all principle in order to follow the interests of 
 the parties, and of leaving the domestic peace of the 
 country by common consent out of view. The present 
 state of Ireland, and indeed to a certain degree the un- 
 worthy course pursued by their successors on Irish 
 aifairs, is the fruit, and the natural fruit, of this wholly 
 unprincipled system. 
 
 The subject of Parliamentary Reform aiiords other 
 illustrations of a like kind. To alter the constitution 
 of parliament as one party termed it, to restore it as 
 another said, but to change its actual structure as all 
 admitted, mit^ht be right or it might be wrong ; might 
 be necessary for the peace of the country, or might be 
 the beginning of inextricable confusion ; but at any 
 rate statesmen were called upon to decide so grave a 
 question upon its own merits — a question by far the 
 most momentous of any that statesmen were in this 
 world ever summoned to discuss in the peaceful deli- 
 berations of council, or senators to decide by the weapons 
 of argument alone — a question which, iu any other 
 age, perhaps in any other country, must have been de- 
 termined, not by deliberations of politicians or arguments 
 of orators, but by the swords and the spears of armed 
 combatants. Yet this question has more than once, 
 and by more than one party, been made the subject of 
 compromise, at one time taken up, at another laid 
 down, as suited the convenience rather than the duty of
 
 LORD NORTH. 
 
 05 
 
 statesmen. Of a certainty, those men have no right to 
 blame Lord North for remaining in office, though dis- 
 approving the American war, ratlier than break up the 
 government and open the doors of Downing-street to 
 the Opposition. In one respect, indeed. Lord North 
 has been by far outdone by them. No exigency of 
 party aifairs ever drove him back to the side of the 
 American controversy which he had escaped. But the 
 " Reformers of the Eleventh Hour," having made all 
 the use of their new creed which they well could, took 
 the opportunity of the new reign to cast it off, and, fan- 
 cying they could now do without it, returned into the 
 bosom of their own church, becoming once more faith- 
 ful supporters of things as they are, and sworn enemies 
 of reform. 
 
 A new and perhaps unexpected vindication of Lord 
 North has been recently presented by the Canadian po- 
 licy of liberal governments, as far as mistakes by inferior 
 artists can extenuate the failings of their more eminent 
 predecessors. When the senseless folly was stated of 
 clinging by colonies wholly useless and merely expen- 
 sive, which all admit irmst sooner or later assert their 
 independence and be severed from the mother-country, 
 none of all this was denied, nor indeed could it ; but 
 the answer was, that no government whatever could give 
 up any part of its dominions without being compelled 
 by force, and that history afforded no example of such 
 a surrender without an obstinate struggle. What more 
 did Lord North, and the other authors of the disgrace- 
 ful contest with America, than act upon this bad prin- 
 ciple ? 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 LORD NORTH. 
 
 But a general disposition exists in the present day 
 to adopt a similar course to the one which we have 
 been reprol)ating in him, and that upon questions of 
 the highest importance. It seems to be demanded by 
 one part of the community, and almost conceded by 
 some portion of our rulers in our days, that it is the 
 duty of statesmen when in office to abdicate the func- 
 tions of Government. We allude to the unworthy, the 
 preposterous, the shameful, the utterly disgraceful doc- 
 trine of what are called " open questions." Its infamy and 
 its audacity has surely no parallel. Enough was it that 
 the Catholic Emancipation should have been taken up 
 in this fashion, from a supposed necessity and under 
 the pressure of fancied, nay factitious, difficulties. No 
 one till now ever had the assurance to put forward, as 
 a general principle, so profligate a rule of conduct ; 
 amounting indeed to this, that when any set of poli- 
 ticians find their avowed and recorded opinions incon- 
 sistent with the holding by office, they may lay them 
 aside, and abdicate the duty of Government while they 
 retain its emoluments and its powers. Mark well, too, 
 that this is not done upon some trivial question, which 
 all men who Avould act together in one body for the 
 attainment of great and useful objects, may and often- 
 times must waive, or settle by mutual concessions — no- 
 thing of the kind ; it is upon the greatest and most 
 useful of all objects, that the abdication is demanded, 
 and is supposed to be made. Whether Reform shall 
 be final or progressive — whether the Elective Franchise 
 shall be extended or not — whether voting shall be by 
 Ballot or open — whether the Corn Laws shall be re-
 
 LORD NORTH. 67 
 
 pealed or not — such are the points upon which the 
 ministers of the Crown are expected to have exactly 
 no opinion ; alone of the whole community to stand 
 mute and inactive, neither thinking, neither stirring, — 
 and to do just precisely neither more nor less than — ■ 
 nothing. It is surely unnecessary to say more. " The 
 word abdicate," on which men debated so long one 
 hundred and fifty years ago, is the only word in the 
 dictionai7 which can suit the case. Can any one thing 
 be more clear than this, that there are questions upon 
 which it is wholly impossible that a Government should 
 not have some opinion, and equally necessary that, in 
 order to deserve the name of a Government, its mem- 
 bers should agree ? W'^hy are one set of men in oflBce 
 rather than another, but because they agree among 
 themselves, and differ with their adversaries upon such 
 great questions as these ? The code of political mo- 
 rality recognizes the idem sentire de republica as a legi- 
 timate bond of virtuous union among honest men ; the 
 idem velle atque idem nolle, is also a well known prin- 
 ciple of action ; but among the associates of Catiline, 
 and by the confession of their profligate leader. Can 
 it be doubted for a moment of time, that when a govern- 
 ment has said, " We cannot agree on these the only im- 
 portant points of practical policy" — the time is come for 
 so reconstructing and changing it, as that an agreement 
 imperiously demanded by the best interests of the state 
 may be secured ? They are questions upon which an 
 opinion must be formed by every man, be he states- 
 man or individual, ruler or subject. Each of the great 
 measures in question is either expedient or it is hurtful. 
 The people have an indisputable right to the hel[) 
 * F 2
 
 68 LORD NORTH. 
 
 of the Government in furthering it if beneficial, in re- 
 sisting it if pernicious ; and to proclaim that, on these 
 subjects, the governors of the country alone must stand 
 neuter, and leave the questions to their fate, is merely 
 to say that, whensoever it is most necessary to have a 
 Government, we have no Government at all : and why ? 
 Because they in whose hands the administration of 
 affairs is vested are resolved rather to keep their places 
 than to do their duty. 
 
 A similar view is sometimes put forward and even 
 acted upon, but of so vulgar, so incomparably base a 
 kind, that we hardly know if we should deign to men- 
 tion it. The partisans of a ministry are wont to say for 
 their patrons, that, unless the country call for certain 
 measures, it shall not have them. What ! Is this the 
 duty of rulers ? Are men in such stations to give all 
 that may be asked, and only to give because of the ask- 
 ing, without regarding whether it be a boon or a bane ? 
 Is the motto of them that hold the citadel to be " Knock, 
 and it shall be opened unto you?" — Assuredly such 
 men as these do not rise even to the mean rank of those 
 disgraced spirits elsewhere, who \i hile in life 
 
 visser senza infamia e senza lodo ; 
 
 but of them we may at least say as of these, 
 
 Non ragionam di lor ma guarda e passa.* 
 
 While Lord North led the House of Conuiions, he 
 had extremely little help from any merely political men 
 
 * Uante, Inf.
 
 LORD NORTH. 69 
 
 of his party. No ministers joined him in defending 
 the measures of his Government. His reliance was 
 upon professional supporters ; and Gibbon has described 
 him as slumbering between the great legal Pillars of 
 his administration, his Attorney and Solicitor-General, 
 who indeed composed his whole strength, until IMr. 
 Dundas, also a professional supporter, being Lord Advo- 
 cate of Scotland, became a new and very valuable acces- 
 sion to his forces.
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 Mr. Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough 
 and Earl of Rosslyn, was one of the few eminent 
 lawyers who have shone at the least as much in politi- 
 cal affairs as in Westminster Hall. Of those English 
 barristers to whom this remark is applicable Mr. 
 Perceval was perhaps the most considerable ; of men 
 bred at the Scotch bar, and who were promoted 
 in England, Lord JMelville : Jlr. Wedderburn, in 
 some sort, partook of both kinds, having been ori- 
 ginally an advocate in Edinburgh, where he distin- 
 guished himself by his eloquence and by the fierce- 
 ness of his invective, which being directed against 
 a leading member of the bar, ended in a quarrel 
 with the court, led to his removing from the provincial 
 theatre, and ultimately raised him to the English bench. 
 He was a person of great powers, cultivated with much 
 care, and chiefly directed towards public speaking. Far 
 from being a profound hu\'yer, he Mas versed in as much 
 professional learning on ordinary subjects as sufficed 
 for the common occasions of IVisi Prius. On peerage 
 law, he is believed to have had more knowledge, and the 
 M^iole subject lies within a very narrow compass. He 
 affected great acquaintance with constitutional learning ; 
 but on this doubts were entertained, augmented, cer- 
 tainly, by the unscrupulous manner in which his opinions 
 were at the service of the political parties he succes- 
 t^ively belonged to. But his strength lay in dealing with
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 71 
 
 facts; and here all his contemporaries represent his 
 powers to have been unrivalled. It was probably this 
 genius for narrative, for arguing upon probabilities, for 
 marshalling and for sifting evidence, that shone so bril- 
 liantly in his great speech at the bar of the House of 
 Lords upon the celebrated Douglas cause, and which 
 no less a judge than Mr. Fox pronounced to be the very 
 finest he ever heard on any subject. It must, however, 
 be remarked in abatement of this high panegyric, that 
 the faculty of statement and of reasoning without the 
 excitement of a contentious debate, being very little 
 possessed by that great man himself, a happy display of 
 it, not so unusiuil in professional men, might produce a 
 greater impression upon liim than was proportioned to 
 its true value and real weight. That it was a prodigious 
 exhibition may nevertheless be admitted to the united 
 testimony of all who recollect it, and who have lived in 
 our own times. That Lord Loughborough never for- 
 got the Douglas cause itself, as he was said to have for- 
 gotten so many merely legal arguments in which he, 
 from time to time, had been engaged, appears from one 
 of his judgments in Chancery, where he imported into a 
 case before him facts not belonging to it, but recollected 
 by him as having been proved in the case of Douglas. 
 
 His manner in earlier life was remarked as excellent ; 
 and though it probably partook even then of that over 
 precision which, in his latter years, sometimes bordered 
 upon the ridiculous, it must certainly have been above 
 the common order of forensic delivery to earn the repu- 
 tation which has remained of it. That he made it an 
 object of his especial care is certain. He is supposed 
 to have studied under a player ; and he certainly spared
 
 72 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 110 pains to eradicate his nortliein accent, beside being 
 exceedingly careful to avoid provincial soloecisms. His 
 efforts were eminently successful in both these particu- 
 lars ; but the force of second nature, hal)it, will yield to 
 that of Nature herself, who is apt to overcome in the 
 end all violence that cultivation may do her. His Scot- 
 ticisms and his vernacular tones returned as his vigour 
 was impaired in the decline of life ; showing that it i,vas 
 all the while an effort Avhich could not continue when 
 the attention was relaxed and its powers enfeebled. 
 
 Upon the removal of Sir Fletcher Norton he joined 
 the Northern Circuit, having then the rank of King's 
 Council. As this was contrary to all the rules of the 
 profession, and was, indeed, deemed to be a discreditable 
 proceeding as well as a breach of discipline, even inde- 
 pendent of other peculiarities attending the operation,* 
 an immediate resolution was adopted by the Bar to 
 refuse holding briefs with the new-comer ; a resolution 
 quite fatal to him, had not Mr. A^'^allace, a man of un- 
 doubted learning and ability, been tempted to break 
 it, and thereby at once to benefit himself and nearly 
 destroy the combination. He thus secured, beside the 
 immediate advantage of jirofessional advancement, the 
 patronage of his leader, who in a few years became 
 Solicitor-General, and afterwards Attorney, under Lord 
 North's administration, drawing Mr. Wallace upwards 
 in his train. He practised in the Court of Chancery ; 
 but in those days the line had not been drawn which 
 now, so liurtfuUy for the Eijuity practitioner, separates 
 
 * He came there wilh the same cleik whom Sir F. Norton had 
 before in his service.
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 73 
 
 the two sides ut" Westminster Hull ; and Chancery 
 leaders frequented the different circuits almost equally 
 with practitioners in the courts of Common Law. 
 
 When he entered the House of Commons lie be- 
 came, in a very short time, one of the two main sup- 
 ports of its ministerial leader ; the other was Lord 
 Thurlow : and while they remained there to defend 
 him. Lord North might well, as Gibbon has described 
 the " Palinurus of the state," indulge in slumbers 
 witii his Attorney and Solicitor-General on either 
 hand remaining at their posts to Avatch out the long 
 debate. No minister before or since the time of 
 Mr. Addington ever depended so nmch upon the ser- 
 vices of his professional supporters. Lideed, they and 
 Mr. Dundas, alone, appear to have shared with him 
 the whole w eight of an attack conducted by the powers 
 of an opposition which Burke and Fox led, and aggra- 
 vated by the uninterrupted series of disasters which, 
 during the whole American contest, attended the coun- 
 cils of the King and his servants. 
 
 Of the debates in those days such scanty remains 
 are preserved, that no one covdd discover from them 
 the qualities, or even the classes of the orators who 
 bore a part in them. The critic cannot from such 
 fragments divine the species and supply the lost parts, 
 as the comparative anatomist can, by the inspection 
 of a few bones in the fossil strata of the globe. Until, 
 therefore. Lord Loughborough came to the House of 
 Lords, indeed until the Regency question occupied 
 that assembly in 1788 and 1789, we were left without 
 the means of assigning his place as a debater. Of his 
 forensic powers we have better opportunities to judge.
 
 74 r-ORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 Several of his arguments are preserved, particularly in 
 the Duchess of Kingston's case, and in one or two 
 causes of celebrity heard before him in the Common 
 Pleas, from 'which we can form an idea, and it is a 
 very exalted one, of his clearness and neatness of state- 
 ment, the point and precision of his language, and the 
 force and even fire with which he pressed his argument, 
 or bore down upon an adverse combatant. The eflfect of 
 his eloquence upon a veiy favourable audience cer- 
 tainly, and in a season of great public violence and 
 delusion, for it was against the Americans, and before 
 the Pri^'y CouncU at the commencement of the revolt, 
 are well known. Mr. Fox alluded to it in warning 
 the Commons against being led away by such eloquence 
 as Mr. Pitt had just astonished them with, at the re- 
 newal of the war in 1 803 ; reminding them how all 
 men " tossed up their Iiats and clapped their hands in 
 boundless delight " at Mr. "\A''edderburn's Privy-Coun- 
 cil speech, without reckoning the cost it was to en- 
 tail upon them. Of this famous display nothing 
 remains but a small portion of his invective against 
 Franklin, which, being couched in epigram, and con- 
 veyed by classical allusion, has been preserved, as 
 almost always happens to whatever is thus sheathed. 
 It refers to some letters of a colonial governor, which, 
 it was alleged, had come uniairly into Franklin's hands, 
 and been impi-operly used by him ; and the Solicitor- 
 General's classical wit was displayed in jesting )ipon 
 that illustrious person's literaiy character, and calling 
 him a man of three letters, the old Roman joke for a 
 thief! Pity that so sorry a sample of so celebrated an 
 orator should be all that has reached the present time
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 75 
 
 to justify tlie account given by Mr. Fox of the etl'ects 
 which its delivery produced ! We are thus reminded 
 of Swift's alKision to some statue of Cato, of which 
 nothing remained save the middle region. 
 
 That the speech and the whole scene was not without 
 its effect upon him who was the principle object of 
 attack, appears sufficiently certain ; for though, at the 
 moment, a magnanimous and, indeed, somewhat over- 
 done, expression of contempt for the speaker is reported 
 to have escaped him in answer to one who hoped, 
 rather clumsily, that he did not feel hurt, " I should 
 think myself meaner than I have been described, if 
 anything coming fi-om such a quarter could vex me;" 
 yet it is well known that, when the ambassadors were 
 met to sign the peace of Versailles, by which the inde- 
 pendence of America was acknowledged, Franklin re- 
 tired, in order to change his dress and affix his name to 
 the treaty in those very garments which he wore when 
 attending the Privy Council, and which he had kept by 
 him for the purpose during many years, a little in- 
 consistently, it must be confessed, with the language of 
 contemptuous indiffiirence used by him at the moment. 
 
 Wiien he was raised to the Bench in 1780, and the 
 Special Commission was issued for trying the rioters, 
 he presided, and delivered a charge to the Grand Jury, 
 the subject at the time of much animadversion for its 
 matter, and of boundless panegyric for its execution. 
 It was published and widely circulated under the autho- 
 rity of the learned Judge himself; and we have thus in 
 the first place the means of determining how far the 
 contemporary opinions upon that production itself were 
 well founded, and next how far the admiration excited by
 
 76 LORD LOUGHBOROtiGH. 
 
 the other efiforts of the same artist was justly bestowed. 
 A^^hoever now reads this celebrated charge, will confess 
 that the blame and the praise allotted to it were alike 
 exaggerated. Far from laying down bad law and pro- 
 pagating from the Bench dangerous doctrines respect- 
 ing treason, the whole legal portion of it consists in a 
 quotation from Judge Foster's book, and a statement in 
 Aihich every lawyer must concur, that the Riot Act 
 never intended to prevent the magistrate from quelling 
 a riot during the hour after proclamation. Then the 
 whole merit of the address in point of execution consists 
 in the luminous, concise, and occasionally impressive 
 sketch of the late riotous proceedings which had given 
 rise to the trials. That this narrative, delivered in a 
 clear and melodious voice, loud without being harsh, 
 recently after the event, and while mens minds were 
 tilled with the alarm of their late escape, and with 
 indignation at the cause of their fears, should make a 
 deep impression, and pass current at a standard of elo- 
 quence far above the true one, may well be imagined. 
 But so much the more reprehensible (and here lies the 
 true ground of blame) was the conduct of the Judge 
 who could at such a moment take the pains manifested 
 througho\it this charge to excite, or rather to keep alive 
 and glowing, those feelings which the due administration 
 of justice required hhn rather sedulously to allay. 
 AVithin a short month after the riots themselves six 
 and forty persons were put upon their trial for that 
 offence ; and nearly the whole of the Chief Justice's 
 address consisted of a solemn and stately lecture upon 
 the enormity of the offence, and a denial of whatever 
 could be alletjed in extenuation of the offenders' con-
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. I i 
 
 duct. It resembled far more the speech of an advocate 
 for the prosecution, than the charge of a Judge to the 
 Grand Jury. Again, when we find a composition 
 which all men had united to praise as a finished specimen 
 of oratory, falling to a rather ordinary level, there is 
 some difficulty in avoiding the inference that an abate- 
 ment should also be made from the great eulogies be- 
 stowed upon its author's other speeches, M-hich have not 
 reached us ; and we can hardly be without suspicion 
 that much of their success may have been owing to the 
 power of a fine delivery, and a clear voice in setting off 
 inferior matter ; to which may be added the never- failing 
 eflfect of correct composition, if employed either at the 
 bar or in Parliament, where a more slovenly diction is 
 so much more frequent even with the best speakers. 
 
 That he was a thoroughly-devoted party man all his 
 life, can indeed no more be questioned than that he owed 
 to the manoeuvres of faction much of his success. He did 
 not cease to feel the force of party attachment when he as- 
 cended the Bench ; and there can be no doubt that his ob- 
 ject at all times, even while he sat in the Common Pleas, 
 was to gain that great prize of the profession which he at 
 length reduced into possession. \^'^e shall in vain look 
 for any steady adherence to one code of political prin- 
 ciples, any consistent pursuit of one undeviating line of 
 conduct, in his brilliant and uniforndy successful career. 
 He entered parliament in uncompromising opposition to 
 Lord North's cabinet, and for some years distinguished 
 himself among their most fierce assailants, at a time 
 when no great errors had been committed or any crimes 
 against public liberty or the peace of the world could 
 be laid to their charge. On the eve of the American
 
 78 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 war he joined tlieni when their measures were becoming 
 daily more indefensible ; and it is known that, like many 
 others in similar circumstances, he appeared at first to 
 have lost the power of utterance, so astonished and over- 
 come was he mth the plimge which he had made after 
 preferment.* But he soon recovered his faculties, and 
 continued in office the constant and unflinching sup- 
 porter of all the measures by which his former adversa- 
 ries converted discontent into disaffection, and out of 
 disaffection raised up revolt ; nor did he quit them 
 when they had severed the empire in twain. Removed 
 from the strife of the senate and the forum, on the 
 bench he continued their partisan, when they joined 
 in a coalition with their ambitious and unscrupulous 
 enemies. For many years of Mr. Pitt's administration 
 he was the real if not the avowed leader of the Foxite 
 opposition in the House of Lords, as well as Chief Jus- 
 tice of the Common Pleas in Westminster Hall. He 
 had under the Coalition enjoyed a foretaste of that great 
 banquet of dignity and patronage, emolument and 
 power, on wliich he had so immoveably fixed his long- 
 sighted and penetrating eye ; having been Chief Com- 
 missioner of the Great Seal during the short life of that 
 justly unpopular administration. This scanty repast 
 but whetted his appetite the more ; and among the 
 more bold and unhesitating of the Prince's advisers 
 upon the question of the Regency, the Chief Justice 
 was to be found the boldest and most unflinching. 
 
 * Alluding to this passage of his life, Junius, in his XLIVth Let- 
 ter, says, " We have seen him in the House of Commons over- 
 whelmed with confusion, and almost bereft of his faculties."
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 79 
 
 No one can, upon a calm review of that famous con- 
 troversy, entertain any doubt that the strict letter of 
 the constitution prescribed one course, while the mani- 
 fest considerations of expediency prescribed another. 
 Nothing can be more contrary to the whole frame of a 
 monarchy than allowing the very fundamental principle, 
 that of hereditary descent, for which and its benefits so 
 many strange and even pernicious anomalies are over- 
 looked, such constant risks encountered, and such se- 
 rious practical inconveniences borne with, to be broken 
 in upon when the sovereign is disabled, whether by 
 infancy, or by old age, or by disease, and instead of fol- 
 lowing the plain course of the succession, to call in the 
 elective voice of the country by an act that resolves the 
 government into its first principles. To make this 
 appeal and not merely to elect a regent, but to limit 
 his powers, is in other words to frame a new constitu- 
 tion for the state, which shall last during the monarch's 
 incapacity, and which, if it be fit for the purposes of 
 government, ought assuredly not to be replaced by the 
 old one, when he recovers or attains his perfect powers 
 of action. The phantom of a commission issued by an 
 incapable king to confer upon what the two other 
 branches of the legislature had proposed, the outward 
 semblance of a statute passed by all the three, was an 
 outrage upon all constitutional principle, and, indeed, 
 upon the common sense of mankind, yet more ex- 
 travagant than the elective nature of the whole pro- 
 cess. Nevertheless, there were reasons of a prac- 
 tical description which overbore these obvious consi- 
 derations, and reconciled men's minds to such an 
 anomalous proceeding. It seemed necessary to provide
 
 80 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 for the safe custody of the king's person ; and for 
 such a sure restoration of his powei's as should in- 
 stantly replace the sceptre in his hand the veiy moment 
 that his capacity to hold it should return. His Vice- 
 gerent must plainly have nocontroul over this operation, 
 neither over the Royal patient's custody, nor over the 
 resumption of his office, and the termination of his own. 
 But it would not have been very easy to cut off all in- 
 terference on the Regent's part in this most delicate 
 matter, had he been invested with the full powers of the 
 Crown. So, in like manner, the object being to pre- 
 serve tilings as nearly as possible in their present state, 
 if those full powers had been exercised nncontrouled, 
 changes of a nature quite irreversible might have been 
 effected while the IMonarch's faculties were asleep ; and 
 not only he would have awakened to a new order of 
 things, but the affairs of the country would have been 
 administered under that novel dispensation by one irre- 
 concileably hostile to it, while its author, appointed in 
 the course of nature once more to rule as his successor, 
 would have been living and enjoying all the influence 
 acquired by liis accidental, anticipated, and temporary 
 reign. These considerations, and the great unpopularity 
 of the Heir-apparent, and his political associates, the 
 coalition party, enabled ]\Ir. Pitt to carry liis proposition 
 of a regency with restricted powers established by a bill 
 to which the two remaining branches alone of the crip- 
 pled Parliament had assented, instead of their addressing 
 the Heir-apparent, declaring the temporary vacancy of 
 the throne, and desiring him temporarily to till it. The 
 sudden recovery of the King prevented the experiment 
 from being then fully tried ; but it was repeated after
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 81 
 
 great opposition and much discussion in 1810. The 
 two precedents thus made, have now settled the consti- 
 tutional law and practice in this important particular. 
 
 The Parliament of Ireland, it is to be remarked, did 
 not, in the earlier case, pursue the same course with 
 that of Great Britain. Our fellow-citizens, although 
 dwelUng farther from the rising sun, are more devotedly 
 given to its worship than ourselves. They could see 
 nothing of expediency or discretion sufficient to restrain 
 their zeal ; and they at once addressed the Prince of 
 Wales to take upon him the Government without any 
 restriction whatever, leaving it to His Royal Highness 
 to make what provision he might deem most convenient 
 for his own dethronement and his father's restoration 
 should he recover. It is the same country which, having 
 some thirty years later been ill-used by the same indivi- 
 dual, testified their sense of this treatment by overt acts of 
 idolatry when he went among them at the most justly 
 unpopular period of his life, and even began a subscrip- 
 tion for building him a palace, of which however not a 
 farthing was ever paid.* 
 
 In the consultations, and in the intrigues to which 
 
 * General censures of a whole nation are generally foolish, and 
 are really of no avail. But if the Irish people would avoid the ill 
 opinion under which they labour among all men of reflection, and 
 raise themselves to the rank of a nation fit for self-government, they 
 must begin to show that they can think for themselves, and not follow 
 blind-folded every delusion, or sufier to be practised upon them every 
 gross and shameless fraud, and give the countenance of their acqui- 
 escence to every avowal of profligate principles which can be made 
 before them. At present they are only known to the rest of their 
 fellow-citizens for a mass of people never consulted though absolutely 
 ruled by the priests and the patriots who use them as blind, \mre- 
 VOL. I. G
 
 S-2 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 this crisis gave rise, Lord Loughborough bore a 
 forward part. That he should have agreed with 
 the rest of the party in the constitutional view which 
 they took of the question, could excite no surprise, 
 nor give rise to any comment. But it is well 
 known that his views were of a more practical nature 
 than any which appeared in the debate. Bold, deter- 
 mined, unscrupulous, he recommended in council a 
 course which nothing but the courage derived from des- 
 peration could have made any English Statesmen in 
 the eighteenth century take into their serious consider- 
 ation, and which if it had been pursued would have left 
 the odium attached to the Coalition in the shade, and 
 made the people of this country repent them of not hav- 
 ing detested the parties to it yet more bitterly and more 
 universally. It was the opinion of the Lord Chief Jus- 
 tice, that the Prince of Wales should not have waited 
 for even an address of the two houses ; but, consider- 
 ing them as nonentities wiiile the throne was empty, 
 should at once have proceeded to restore, as it was 
 delicately and daintily termed, the executive branch 
 of the constitution ; in other words, proclaim himself 
 regent, and issue his orders to the troops and the 
 magistrates as if his father were naturally dead, and 
 he had succeeded, in the course of nature, to the vacant 
 crown. There is no reason to believe that this 
 scheme of Lord Loughborough was adopted by the 
 chiefs of the party, uor, indeed, is there any evidence 
 
 fleeting tools. Yet the genius and the worth of the nation are de- 
 nied by none. May they soon be really emancipated, and learn to 
 think and act for themselves !
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 83 
 
 that it was communicated to them. That it was an 
 advice hinted to the Heir-apparent, or at least a subject 
 discussed with him, and of which memoranda remain 
 in the Chief Justice's handwriting, is very confidently 
 affirmed from ocular inspection. Whether or not 
 a very popular prince might with safety have ven- 
 tured upon such an experiment, is a question so wide of 
 the actual case, that no time needs be wasted upon its 
 solution. That the individual to whom this perilous 
 advice was tendered, could not have done so without a 
 civil war, appears sufficiently evident. Indeed, the 
 marriage de facto, legal or illegal, which he had con- 
 tracted with a Catholic lady, and of which the cir- 
 cumstances were generally known, would alone have 
 furnished Mr. Pitt with a sufficient objection to his 
 title ; and the country would have owed to one of her 
 reverend judges the blessings of a disputed succession 
 and intestine tumults, such as she had not experienced 
 since the days of the tvro roses. There can be little 
 doubt, whether we consider the character of the man, 
 or his subsequent conduct towards George III. on the 
 Catholic question, and his advice I'especting the Coro- 
 nation oath, that part of Lord Loughborough's design 
 was to obtain an undivided control over the Prince, 
 who should then have flung himself into his hands by 
 adopting his extreme opinions and acting upon such 
 hazardous councils. 
 
 The discomfiture of the opposition party by the king's 
 recovery, and by the great accession to his personal po- 
 pularity which his illness had occasioned, left Lord 
 Loughborough no prospect of power for some years. Tlie 
 French Revolution was then approaching, and the 
 
 g2
 
 84 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 Whigs suffered the ahnost irreparable blow of the Port- 
 land party separating themselves upon the great ques- 
 tions connected with that event. He was one of the 
 seceders ; nor in taking this step did he quit his allies 
 of the North school. The Great Seal, now within his 
 reach by Lord Thurlow's quarrel with ]Mr. Pitt, may 
 have operated as an additional temptation to close his 
 ears against the evils of the war into which this junc- 
 tion plunged the country ; but one who had defended 
 the government steadily through all the calamities of 
 the American contest, had not much to learn of for- 
 titude in seasons of difficulty, or of patience under public 
 misfortune. He held the great seal for seven or eight 
 years, and was at the head of the law dui-ing the period 
 of attempted proscription and actual persecution of the 
 Reformers, the professors of those opinions carried to 
 the extreme, which the "\^''higs, his late allies, professed 
 in more moderation and with a larger admixture of 
 aristocratic prejudices. But of liim it cannot be said, 
 as of Mr. Pitt, that he had ever professed reform prin- 
 ciples. On the contrary, the North party at all times 
 diflfered upon that question with their Foxite coadjutors, 
 who, indeed, differed sufficiently upon it among them- 
 selves. 
 
 The character of Lord Loughborough stood far less 
 high as. a judge, than as either a debater in parliament, 
 or an advocate at the bar. His decisions evince little 
 of the learning of his profession ; and do not even show 
 a very legal structure of the understanding. They are 
 frequently remarkable enough for clear and even feli- 
 citous statement ; but in close argument, as in profound 
 knowledge, they are evidently deficient. Some of his
 
 LORD LOCGHBOROCGH. SO 
 
 judgments in the Common Pleas were more distin- 
 guished by ability, and more admired at the time, than 
 any which he pronounced in the court where the greater 
 part of his life had been passed. But he was not un- 
 popular at the head of the profession. His manners 
 were courteous and even noble ; his liberahty was great. 
 WTiolly above any sordid feeling^s of avarice or par- 
 simony, and only valuing his high station for the powers 
 which it conferred, and the dignity with which it was 
 compassed round about, he maintained its state with a 
 mimificent expenditure, and amassed no money for his 
 heirs. He was moreover endued with personal quahties 
 which a generous profession is apt to esteem highly. 
 Reasonably accomplished as a scholar, cultivating all his 
 life the society of literarj- men, determined and imhesi- 
 tating in his conduct, polite in his demeanour, elesrant, 
 dignified in his habits, equal in his favour to all prac- 
 titioners, unawed by their talents as uninfluenced by 
 any partiahties, and resolute inmaintainins his own and 
 his profession's independence of any ministerial autho- 
 rity — those who have succeeded him never advanced 
 greater claims to the personal confidence or respect of 
 the Bar ; and his known deficiencies in much higher 
 qualifications were overlooked by men who felt some- 
 what vain of being ruled or being represented by such 
 a chief. In this exalted station he remained during the 
 whole eventful years that followed the breaking out of 
 the French war, and imtil the retirement of those 
 who had made it, a retirement probably occasioned bv 
 the necessity of restoring peace, but usually ascribed to 
 the controversy on the Catholic question, its pretext and 
 occasion rather than its cause.
 
 86 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 
 
 'llie fancy respecting the coronation oatli which so 
 entirely obtained possession of George III.'s mind and 
 actuated his conduct during the whole discussion of Irish 
 affairs, is now generally believed to have been impressed 
 upon it by Lord Loughborough, and probably was 
 devised by his subtle mind, as it was used by his in- 
 triguing spu'it, for the purpose of influencing the king. 
 But if this was the object of the notable device, never 
 did intriguer more signally fail in his scheme. The 
 cabinet to which he belonged was broken up ; a still 
 more crafty successor obtained both the place he had just 
 quitted in the king's service, and the place he had hoped 
 to fill in the king's favour ; he was made an earl ; he 
 was laid on the shelf ; and, as his last move, he retired 
 to a villa remarkable for its want of all beauty and all 
 comforts, but recommended by its near neighbourhood 
 to Wmdsor Castle, where the former Chancellor was 
 seen dancing a ridiculous attendance upon royalty, un- 
 noticed by the object of his suit, and marked only by 
 the jeering and motley crowd that frequented the terrace. 
 For three years he lived in this state of public neglect, 
 without the virtue to employ his remaining faculties in 
 his country's service by parliamentary attendance, or 
 the manliness to use them for his own protection and 
 aggrandisement. ^Vhen he died, after a few hours' 
 illness, the intelligence was brought to the king, who, 
 with a circumspection abundantly characteristic, asked 
 the bearer of it, if he was quite sure of the fact, as Lord 
 Rosslyn had not been ailing before, and, upon being 
 assured that a sudden attack of gout in the stomach had 
 really ended the days of his late servant and once 
 assiduous courtier, his majesty was graciously pleased
 
 LORD LOUGHBOROUGH. 87 
 
 to exclaim — "Then he has not left a worse man behind 
 him."* 
 
 It is the imperative duty of the historian to dwell upon 
 the fate, while he discloses with impartial fulness, and 
 marks with just reprobation, the acts of such men ; to 
 the end that their great success, as it is called, may not 
 mislead others, and conceal behind the glitter of worldly 
 prosperity, the baser material with which the structure 
 of their fortune is built up. This wholesome lesson, 
 and indeed needful warning, is above all required when 
 we are called upon to contemplate a professional and po- 
 litical life so eminently prosperous as the one \\'hich we 
 have been contemplating, which rolled on in an uninter- 
 rupted tide of worldly gain and worldly honours, but 
 was advanced only by shining and superficial talents, 
 supported by no fixed principles, illustrated by no 
 sacrifices to public virtue, embellished by no feats of 
 patriotism, nor made memorable by any monuments of 
 national utility ; and which, being at length closed in the 
 disappointment of mean, unworthy desires, ended amidst 
 universal neglect, and left behind it no claim to the 
 respect or the gratitude of mankind, though it may have 
 excited the admiration or envy of the contemporary 
 vulgar. 
 
 * The liberty has been taken to translate the expressive though 
 homely English of royalty, into a phrase more decorous and less un- 
 feeling upon such an occasion.
 
 LORD THURLOW. 
 
 The other helpmate upon whom Gibbon paints the pilot 
 of the state as reposing, ^vas as different a person from 
 Lord Loui^liboroiigh in all respects as can well be ima- 
 gined. ^iVe refer of course to Mr. Thurlow, who filled the 
 office of attorney- general until the year 1778, when he 
 took the great seal. The remains that have reached us 
 of his exliibitions as a speaker, A^^hether at the bar, in 
 parliament, or on the Ijench, are more scanty still than 
 those of his colleagues ; for, Awhile he sat on the bench, 
 the reports in Chancery were on the meagre and jejune 
 footing of the older books ; and it is only over a year or 
 two of his presiding in the Court, that Mr. Vesey, 
 junior's, full and authentic reports extend. There 
 seems, however, from all accounts, to have been much 
 less lost of Lord Thurlow than there would have been 
 of subsequent judges, had the old-fashioned summaries 
 only of equity proceedings been preserved ; for his way 
 was to decicie, not to reason ; and, in court as well as in 
 parliament, no man ever performed the office, whether 
 of judging or debating, with a smaller expenditure of 
 
 argument. 
 
 This practice, if it saves the time of the public, 
 gives but little satisfaction to the suitor. The 
 judges who pursue it forget that, to satisfy tlie parties, 
 or at least to give them such grounds as ought to satisfy 
 reasonable men, is in importance only next to giving 
 them a right judgment. Almost as important is it to
 
 LOKD THURLOW. 89 
 
 satisfy the profession and the country, which awaits to 
 gather the law, the rule of their conduct in advising or 
 in acting, from the lips of the judge. Nor is it imma- 
 terial to the interest even of the party who gains, that 
 the grounds should be made known of his success, espe- 
 cially in courts from which there lies an appeal to a 
 higher tribunal. The consequence of Sir John Leach 
 deciding generally with few or no reasons assigned was, 
 that appeals were multiplied ; the successful party had 
 only obtained half a victory ; and it became a remark 
 frequent in the mouths of successive chancellors, that 
 causes were decided below, but heard before them. It 
 is an unaccountable mistake into which some fall, when 
 they fancy that the more weight is attached to such mere 
 sentences, because prefaced by no reasons ; as if the judge 
 were to declare the law, infallible like an oracle, or 
 omnipotent like a lawgiver, and keep to himself all 
 knowledge of the route by which he had arrived at 
 his conclusion. The very reverse is true. With an en- 
 lightened bar and an intelligent people, the mere autho- 
 rity of the bench will cease to have any weight at all, if 
 it be unaccompanied with argument and explanation. 
 But were it otherwise, the reason would fail, and sig- 
 nally fail ; for the only increase of weight derived 
 from the practice would be that to which the judgment 
 had no claim, namely, the outward semblance to the 
 ignorant multitude of a determination more clear and 
 positive than really existed. Add to all this, that no 
 security whatever can be afforded for the mind of the 
 judge having been directed to the different parts of each 
 case, and his attention having been held awake to the 
 whole of the discussions at the bar, still less in equity-
 
 90 LORD THURLOW. 
 
 proceedings of his having read the affidavits and other 
 documentary evidence, unless he states explicitly the 
 view which he takes of the various matters, ^^hether of 
 law or of fact, that have been brought before him. 
 \^'^ith the exception of Sir John Leach, Lord Thurlow 
 is the last judge who adopted the very bad practice of 
 unreasoned decisions. But his habit of cavilling at the 
 reasons of the common law courts, when a case was 
 sent to them for their opinion, a habit largely followed 
 by Lord Eldon, extended to those courts, in a remark- 
 able and veiy hurtful manner. Lord Thurlow's own 
 practice : for the temper of those learned individuals 
 became ruffled ; and, impatient of criticism upon their 
 reasonings, instead of rather couiting a discussion of 
 them, they adopted the evil method of returning their 
 answers or certificates Avithout any reasons at all — a 
 conduct which nothing but the respect due to the bench 
 could hinder men from terming childish in the extreme. 
 This custom having been much censured by succeeding 
 chancellors, and the House of Lords itself having of late 
 years departed altogether from the old rule of only assign- 
 ing reasons where a judgment or decree is to be reversed 
 or varied upon Appeal, it is to be hoped that the conniion- 
 law judges will once more deign to let the profession 
 know the grounds of their judgments upon the highly 
 important cases sent from Chancery, as they do without 
 the least fear of cavil or criticism upon any trifling 
 matter that comes before them, and do (be it most reve- 
 rently observed in passing) with very little desire to 
 avoid either prolixity or repetition. 
 
 If Lord Thurlo\\-, however, has left no monuments of 
 his judicial eloquence ; and if, indeed, his place among
 
 LORD THURLOW. 91 
 
 lawyers was not the highest, he is admitted to have well 
 understood the ordinary practice and leading principles 
 of those courts in which he had passed his life ; and his 
 judgments for the most part gave satisfaction to the 
 profession. He had no mean powers of dispatching the 
 business of the court, and of the House of Lords when 
 presiding upon appeals ; nor could any man in this 
 article resemble him less than the most eminent of his 
 successors, who was understood to have made him the 
 model in some things of his conversation, garnishing it, 
 after his manner, with expletives rather sonorous than 
 expressive, but more expressive than becoming. Far 
 from showing, like Lord Eldon, a patience which no 
 prolixity could exhaust, and a temper which was neither 
 to be vexed by desperate argumentation nor by endless 
 repetition — farther still from courting protracted and 
 renewed discussion of each matter, already worn thread- 
 bare — Lord Thurlow showed to the suitor a determined, 
 and to the bar a surly, aspect, which made it perilous 
 to try experiments on the limits of his patience, by 
 making it somewhat doubtful if he had any patience at 
 all. Aware that the judge he was addressing knew 
 enough of their common profession not to be imposed 
 upon, and bore so little deference to any other as to do 
 exactly what suited himself — nay, apprehensive that the 
 measure of his courtesy was too scanty to obstruct the 
 overflow in very audible sounds of the sarcastic and 
 peremptory matter which eyes of the most fixed gloom, 
 beneath eye-brows formed by nature to convey the ab- 
 stract idea of a perfect frown, showed to be gathering 
 or already collected — the advocate was compelled to be 
 select in choosing his topics and temperate in han-
 
 92 LORD THURLOW. 
 
 tiling them ; and oftentimes felt i-educed to a painful 
 dilemma better fitted for the dispatch than the right 
 decision of causes, the alternative being presented of 
 leaving material points unstated, or calling down against 
 his client the unfavourable determination of the Court. 
 It would be incorrect to state that Lord Thurlow, in 
 this respect equalled or even resem])led Sir John Leach, 
 with whom every consideration made way for the vanity 
 of clearing his cause-paper in a time which rendered it 
 physically impossible for the causes to be heard. But 
 he certainly more nearly approached that extreme than 
 he did the opposite, of endless delay and habitual vacilla- 
 tion of expression rather than of purpose, upon which 
 Lord Eldou made shipwreck of his judicial reputation, 
 though possessing all the greater qualities of a lawyer 
 and a judge. In one important particuLar he and Sir John 
 Leach closely resembled each other, and as widely dif- 
 fered from the other eminent person who has just been 
 named. While on the bench the mind of both was 
 giveu wholly to the matter before them, and never wan- 
 dered from it at all. An ever-wakeful and ever-fixed 
 attention at once enabled them to apprehend the merits 
 of each case and catch each point at the first statement, 
 precluded the necessity of much after- consideration and 
 reading, and, indeed, rehearing ; and kept the advocate's 
 mind also directed to his pomts, confining his exertions 
 ^vithul reasonable limits, while it well rewarded him for 
 his closeness and his conciseness. The judge's reward, 
 too, was proportionably great. He felt none of that 
 load which pressed upon Lord Eldon when he reflected 
 how much i-emained for him to do after all the latigue 
 of his attendance in Court had been undergone ; that
 
 LORD THURLOW. 93 
 
 anxiety which harassed him lest points should escape 
 his reading that might have been urged in the oral argu- 
 ments he had heard without listening to them ; the irrita- 
 tion which vexed him until he had from long use ceased 
 to care much for it, when he looked around him upon the 
 inextricable confusion of his judicial affairs, and, like 
 the embarrassed trader, became afraid to look any more, 
 or examine any closer the details of his situation. If a 
 contrast were to be formed between the ease and tlie 
 discomfort of a seat upon the bench, as far as the per- 
 sonal feelings of the occupiers are concerned, it would 
 hardly be possible to go beyond that which was afforded 
 by Thurlow to Eldon. 
 
 Of his powers as a debater there are now no means to 
 form an estimate, except what tradition, daily becoming 
 more scanty and precarious, may supply. He possessed 
 great depth of voice, rolled out his sentences with un- 
 broken fluency, and displayed a confidence both of tone 
 and of assertion which, accompanied by somewhat of 
 Dr. Johnson's balanced sententiousness, often silenced 
 when it did not convince ; for of reasoning he was 
 proverbially sparing : there are those indeed who will 
 have it that he never was known to do anything 
 which, Avhen attended to, even looked like using an argu- 
 ment, although, to view tlie speaker and carelessly to 
 hear him, you would say he was laying waste the whole 
 field of argumentation and dispersing and destroymg 
 all his antagonists. His aspect was more solemn 
 and imposing than almost any other person's in 
 public life, so much so that Mr. Fox used to say, 
 it proved him dishonest, since no man could be so 
 wise as he looked. Nor did he neglect any of the
 
 94 LORD THURLOW. 
 
 external circumstances, how trifling soever, by which 
 attention and deference could be secured on the part of 
 his audience. Not only were his periods well rounded, 
 and the connecting matter or continuing phrases well 
 flung in, but the tongue was so hung as to make the 
 sonorous voice peal through the hall, and appear to 
 convey things which it would be awful to examine too 
 near, and perilous to question. Nay, to the more trivial 
 circumstance of his place, when addressing the House 
 of Lords, he scrupulously attended. He rose slowly 
 from his seat : he left the woolsack with deliberation ; 
 but he went not to the nearest place, like ordinary Chan- 
 cellors, the sons of mortal men ; he drew back by a 
 pace or two, and, standing as it were askance, and 
 partly behind the huge bale he had quitted for a season, 
 he began to pour out, first in a growl, and then in 
 a clear and louder roll, the matter which he had to 
 deliver, and which for the most part consisted in some 
 positive assertions, some personal vituperation, some 
 sarcasms at classes, some sentences pronounced upon 
 individuals as if they were standing before him for 
 judgment, some vague mysterious threats of things 
 purposely not expressed, and abundant protestations of 
 conscience and duty, in which they Aiho keep the con- 
 sciences of Kings are somewhat apt to indulge. 
 
 It is obvious that to give any examples that could at 
 all convey an idea of this kind of vamped up, outside, 
 delusive, nay, almost fraudulent oratory, would be im- 
 possible. But one or two passages may be rehearsed. 
 When he had, in 1 788, first intrigued actively with the 
 Whigs and the Pi'ince upon the Regency question, 
 being apparently inclined to prevent his former col-
 
 LORD THURLOW. 95 
 
 league and now competitor, from clutching that prize — 
 suddenly discovering from one of the physicians, the 
 approaching convalescence of the Royal patient, he at 
 one moment's warning quitted the Carlton House party, 
 and came down, with an assurance unknown to all be- 
 sides, perhaps even to himself not known before, and 
 in his place undertook the defence of the King's rights 
 against his son and his partisans. The concluding 
 sentence of this unheard-of performance was calcu- 
 lated to set all belief at defiance, coming from the man 
 and in the circumstances. It assumed, for the sake of 
 greater impressiveness, the form of a prayer ; though 
 certainly it was not poured out in the notes of suppli- 
 cation,^^ut rather rung forth in the sounds that weekly 
 call men to the service : " And when I forget my 
 Sovereign, may my God forget me !" Whereupon 
 Wilkes, seated upon the foot of the throne, and who 
 had known him long and well, is reported to have said, 
 somewhat coarsely but not unhappily, it must be 
 
 allowed, " Forget you ? He'll see you d d first." 
 
 Another speech in a diflferent vein is preserved, and 
 shows some powers of drollery certainly. In the 
 same debates, a noble character, who was remarkable 
 for his delicacy and formal adherence to etiquette, 
 having indeed filled diplomatic stations during great 
 part of his life, had cited certain resolutions passed at 
 the Thatched House Tavern by some great party meet- 
 ing. In adverting to these. Lord Thurlow said, " As 
 to what the noble Lord told you that he had heard at 
 the ale-house." The effect of this humour, nearly ap- 
 proaching, it must be allowed, to a practical joke, may 
 easily be conceived by those who are aware how much
 
 96 LORD THUBLOW. 
 
 more certain in both Houses of Parliament the success 
 of such things always is, than of the most refined and 
 exalted wit. Upon another occasion, his misanthropy, 
 or rather his great contempt of all mankind, broke out 
 characteristically enough. This prevailing feeling of 
 his mind made all respect testified toAvards any person, 
 all praise bestowed upon men, nay all defence of them 
 under attack, extremely distasteful to him ; indeed, 
 almost matter of personal offence. So once having 
 occasion to mention some public functionary, whose con- 
 duct he intimated that he disapproved, he thought fit 
 to add, " But far be it from me to express any blame of 
 any official person, whatever may be my opinion ; for 
 that, I well know, would lay me open to hear his pane- 
 gyric." At the bar he appears to have dealt in much 
 the same wares ; and they certainly formed the staple 
 of his operations in the commerce of society. His jest 
 at the expense of two eminent civilians, in the Duchess 
 of Kingston's case, is well known, and was no doubt of 
 considerable merit. After those very learned person- 
 ages had come forth from the recesses where doctors 
 " most do congregate," but in which they divide with 
 their ponderous tomes the silence that is not broken by 
 any stranger footstep, and the gloom that is pierced 
 l)y no light from without, and appearing in a scene to 
 which they were as strange as its gaiety was to their 
 eyes, had performed alternately the various evolutions of 
 their recondite lore, Rlr. Thurlow was pleased to say 
 that the congress of two doctors always reminded him 
 of the noted saying of Crassus — " Mirari se quod harus- 
 pex haruspicem sine i"isu adspicere posset." In con- 
 versation he was, as in debate, sententious and caustic.
 
 LORD THURLOW. 97 
 
 Discoursing of the difficulty he had in appointing to a 
 high legal situation, he described himself as long hesi- 
 tating between the intemperance of A, and the corrup- 
 tion of B ; but finally preferring the former. Then, 
 as if afraid, lest he had for the moment been betrayed 
 into anything like unqualified commendation of any 
 person, he added, correcting himself — " Not that there 
 was not a deal of corruption in A's intem- 
 perance." He had, however, other stores from which 
 to furnish forth his talk ; for he was a man of no mean 
 classical attainments ; read much Greek, as well as 
 Latin, after his retirement from office ; and having be- 
 come associated with the Whigs, at least in the inter- 
 course of society, passed a good deal of time in the 
 society of Mr. Fox, for whom it is believed that he felt 
 a great admiration, at least, he praised him in a way 
 exceedingly unusual with him, and was therefore sup- 
 posed to have admired him as much as he could any 
 person, independent of the kind of thankfulness which 
 he must have felt to any formidable opposer of 
 Mv. Pitt, whom lie hated Avith a hatred as hearty as 
 even Lord Thurlow could feel, commingling his dislike 
 with a scorn wholly unbecoming and misapplied. 
 
 When he quitted the great seal, or rather when Mr. 
 Pitt and he quarrelling, one or other must go, and the 
 former was well resolved to remain, the retired chancel- 
 lor appeared to i-etain a great interest in all the proceed- 
 ings of the court which he had left, and was fond of 
 having Sir John Leach, then a young barrister, to spend 
 the evenings with him, and relate whatever had passed 
 in the course of the day. It seemed somewhat contrary 
 to his selfish nature and contracted habits of thinking, 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 LORD THURLOW. 
 
 that he should feel any great concern about the course 
 wliich the administration of justice should take, now 
 that he slumbered upon the shelf But the mystery was 
 easily explained, by observing that he really felt, in at 
 least its ordinary force, the affection which men long 
 used to ofl&ce bear towards those who are so presump- 
 tuous as to succeed them ; and he was gratified by 
 thus sitting as a secret court of revision, hearing of any 
 mistakes committed by Lord Loughborough, and pro- 
 nouncing in no very measured terms his judgment of 
 reversal upon many things in which the latter no 
 doubt was right. 
 
 That his determination and clearness were more in 
 manner than in the real vigour of his mind, there can 
 be no doubt; for, though in disposing of causes, he 
 may have shown little oscitancy, as indeed there 
 seldom arises any occasion for it where a judge is rea- 
 sonably acquainted \vith his business and gives his 
 attention A^ithout reserve to the dispatch of it, yet, in all 
 questions of political conduct, and all deliberations 
 upon measures, he is known to have been exceedingly 
 irresolute. Mr, Pitt found him a colleague wholly un- 
 fruitful in council, though always apt to raise difficul- 
 ties, and very slow and irresolute of purpose. The 
 Whigs, when he joined them, soon discovered how in- 
 firm a frame of mind there lay concealed behind the 
 outward form of vigour and decision. He saw nothing 
 clear but the obstacles to any course ; was fertile only 
 of doubts and expedients to escape deciding ; and 
 appeared never prompt to act, but ever ready to oppose 
 whoever had anything to recommend. So little, as 
 might be expected, did this suit the restless and impa-
 
 LORD THURLOW. 99 
 
 tient vehemence of Mr. Francis, that he described him 
 as "that enemy of all human action." 
 
 Of a character so wanting in the sterling qualities 
 which entitle the statesman to confidence and respect' 
 or the orator to admiration, it cannot be affirmed that 
 what he wanted in claims to public favour he made up 
 in titles to esteem or affection as a private individual. 
 His life was passed in so great and habitual a disregard 
 of the decorum usually cast round high station, espe- 
 cially in the legal profession, as makes it extremely 
 doubtful if the grave and solemn exterior in which he 
 was wont to shroud himself were anything more than 
 a manner he had acquired ; for, assuredly, to assert that 
 he wore it as a cloak whereby men might be deceived, 
 would hardly be consistent with his ordinaj-y habits, as 
 remote as well could be from all semblance of hy- 
 pocrisy ; and so far from an affectation of appearing 
 better than he was, that he might ahnost be said to 
 affect, like the Regent Orleans, the "bad eminence" 
 of being worse.* 
 
 * St. Simon relates a saying of Louis XIV., respecting his celebrated 
 nephew, which, he says, paints him to the life, and, therefore, that 
 skilful writer of memoirs is unbounded in his praise of this " Trait 
 de plume." " Encore est-il fanfaron des vices qu'il n'a pas." 
 
 H '^5
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 CoNTEMPORARA' with these two distinguished lawyers, 
 during the latter period of his life, was a legal per- 
 sonage in every respect for more eminent than either, 
 the first Lord IMansfield, than whom few men, not at 
 the head of state affairs, have in any period of our his- 
 tory filled an exalted station for a longer period with 
 more glory to themselves, or with a larger share of in- 
 fluence over the fortunes of their country. He was 
 singularly endowed with the qualities most fitted 
 both to smooth for him the path to professional 
 advancement, to win the admiration of the w^orld at 
 large, and to maintain or even expand the authority of 
 AA'hatever ofl&cial situation he might be called to occuj)y. 
 Enjoying all the advantages of a finished classical edu- 
 cation ; adding to this the enlargement of mind derived 
 from foreign travel, undertaken at an age when attentive 
 observation can be accompanied with mature reflection ; 
 he entered upon the profession of the law some years 
 after he had reached man's estate ; and showed as much 
 patient industry in a\va.iting, by attendance in the 
 courts, the emoluments and the honours of the gown, 
 as he had evinced diligence in qualifying himself for its 
 labours and its duties. His connexion with Scotland 
 easily introduced him into the practice afforded by the 
 appellate jurisdiction of the House of Lords ;* and the 
 
 * He soon rose to such eminence in this, that his biographer, 
 Halliday, has mentioned him as engaged in thirty appeals during one
 
 L®mP MANgFSiELB 
 
 
 ^..cn'/itti 
 
 ^!y(^a-/eJ/MUl:^ 
 
 L.miUiiilW'l^Iie'lVv ijutrioi- Kiiitfhli T.ttJffiite .•itrftt .
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 101 
 
 accidental indisposition of his leader, a few years after- 
 wards, having given him an opportunity of distinguish- 
 ing himself before a jury, he speedily rose into extensive 
 practice, not, however, so much in Common-law courts 
 as in Chancery. 
 
 Ten years after he entered the profession he was 
 made Solicitor- General and came into parliament, which 
 he had hitherto shunned, observing, Avith the caution so 
 characteristic of tlie man and of the nation, " That he 
 liad many respected friends on both sides of the House, 
 and did not care to lose the patronage of both parties 
 for the favour of one." If this principle be as great an 
 honour to his public virtue as to his personal discretion, 
 his biographer has done well to record it in proof of 
 the praises wliich he lavishes u])on him ; and certainly 
 nothing in the subsequent course of his life can be 
 found which betokens a falling off from the wary cir- 
 cumspection of his outset in life. 
 
 His powers as an advocate were great, though not 
 first-rate. In manner, which he had studied so much 
 that Pope was found one day superintending him while 
 he practised before a looking-glass — in a sweetness of 
 voice which by nature was almost unequalled — in clear- 
 ness and skill of statement, which he so greatly la- 
 boured, that it was said his story was worth other 
 men's argument^ — in the wariness and discretion so 
 necessary to one that represents another's interests, as 
 an advocate does his client's, — in knowledge accurate, 
 as far as it went, if not veiy profound, of the princijdes 
 
 session. A worse piece of biography than HaUiday's, it may be ob- 
 served in passing, hardly exists, notwithstanding its having so ad- 
 mirable a subject. 
 
 ITT^RAKY 
 
 TJKTVERRITY OF CALIFORNU 
 
 SAXTV BARBARA
 
 102 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 of the law ; and in an enlarged view of general sub- 
 jects, whether of jurisprudence or of a more hberal 
 kind — he stood high, either above all his contemporaries, 
 or in their foremost rank. A certain want of vigour, 
 arisina" from the inroads which his constitutional caution 
 made into the neighbouring dominions of its ally, fear, 
 prevented him from ever filling the first place among 
 advocates ; and to anything that deserved the name of 
 genius or of originality he preferred at no time and in 
 no station any claims. Atkins, his staunch admirer, has 
 preserved, with extreme eulogy, one of his arguments 
 in a case of great importance ; it is learned and al)le, 
 but far from justifying the preference given to it over 
 those of the other council, whose arguments in the 
 same cause are also reported. 
 
 In the House of Commons it was his fortune to de- 
 fend the measiu-es of government, when no men of emi- 
 nence filled the front ranks of the opposition party, 
 excepting ]Mr. Pitt (Lord Chatham) ; and the perilous 
 task of encountering him always was reserved for the 
 ministerial chief himself. That he was very successful 
 as an elegant and persuasive speaker, is cei'tain ; that 
 he was imequal to fill a first place, at a time when the 
 secret hivd not been discovered of posting second-rate 
 men in such positions, is as undeniable ; and it is known 
 that he felt this inadequacy : for an arrangement was at 
 one perio<l proposed, by which he was to have taken the 
 lead, on the part of the government, and he peremptorily 
 declined it. Indeed, he ^'I'as both conscious of his power 
 lying in a different direction, and resolved to follow the 
 bent at once of his capacity and his inclination. Ac- 
 corduigly, on the death of Chief Justice Ryder, though
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 103 
 
 much pressed to remain in parliament at a time when 
 the ministry could ill spare him from the Treasury 
 Bench, he distinctly intimated that, if he were not pro- 
 moted to the place which he considered the Attorney- 
 General's right, he should cease to hold any place ; and 
 u hint which was easily understood was wisely taken. 
 
 Over that great court he presided above thirty years ; 
 and his administration of its functions during that long 
 period shed a lustre alike upon the tribunal and the 
 judge. Although he had chiefly practised in Chancery 
 and the House of Lords, yet his correct legal under- 
 standing, his excellent sense, his familiar acquaintance 
 with the general principles of jurisprudence, easily and 
 speedily supplied any deficiency which he might have in 
 the practice of the Common-Law Courts, and the pro- 
 ceedings at Nisi Prius ; while his whole faculties, his 
 temper, and his manners, down to the very defects 
 which he had betrayed as an advocate, were admirably 
 calculated for his more exalted station. His mind and 
 his habits were, indeed, eminently judicial ; and it may 
 l)e doubted if, taking both the externals and the more 
 essential qualities into the account, that go to form a 
 great judge, any one has ever administered the laws in 
 this country whom we can fairly nanae as his equal. 
 The greatest clearness of apprehension ; quickness suf- 
 ficient, and not extreme, which, in a judge, is perilous, 
 often allied with impatience, and apt to degenerate into 
 hastiness ; admirable perspicuity of statement, whether 
 delivering his opinion to the court and the bar, or giving 
 his directions to a jury; conciseness with clearness; 
 these were the contributions which his uudcrstaniling 
 made towards the formation of his judicial character.
 
 104 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 Then he hiid a constant connnand of himself, never be- 
 trayed into anger, or impatience, nor ever showing 
 spleen or any other breach of strict equality and perfect 
 equanimity, either to^vards parties or their advocates. 
 To those higher qualities, intellectual and moral, he 
 added the graces of a diction classical and elegant ; the 
 ornament and, indeed, the illustration of frequent re- 
 ference to larger views than the more technical dis- 
 cussion of legal questions requires ; and the fascination 
 of a voice singularly flexible and sweet ; and he flung 
 over the whole of this fine judicial figure the garb of a 
 manner at once dignified and attractive. They who 
 never had seen Lord Thurlow, might well imagine they 
 had heard him, if they enjoyed access tosuch excellent imi- 
 tators as George IV. and Lord Holland. As perfect a 
 substitute for Lord Mansfield's manner \\'as to be found 
 in Lord Erskine, bet\^'een whom and that celebrated 
 person there long prevailed a great intimacy founded 
 upon very sincere mutual admiration. 
 
 The benefits conferred by this accomplished judge 
 upon the Court where he so long presided, and upon its 
 suitors were manifold and substantial. He began by at 
 once so regulating the distribution of the business, as to 
 remove all uncertainty of the matters which should be 
 taken up each day, and to diminish both the expense and 
 the delay and the confusion of former tunes. He restored 
 to the whole bar the privilege of moving in turn, instead 
 of confining this to the last day of the term. He almost 
 abolished the tedious and costly practice of havuig the 
 same case argued several times ovei", restricting such re- 
 hearings to questions of real difficulty and adequate im- 
 portance. He gave as many hours to the business both
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 105 
 
 of Banc and of sittings as was required for dispatching 
 it without unnecessary delay. The ascendant whicli he 
 gained both over the Bar and the Bench, prechided all 
 needless prolixity of argument, all unseemly wrangling 
 between the Court and the Council, all inconvenient 
 differences of opinion among the Judges. The result 
 was, that while no time was wasted, great satisfaction 
 ^\'as given hj the clear and rational groimds upon which 
 the decisions were rested; while the cases were so 
 speedily and so well dispatched, that the other Courts of 
 Common Law were drained of their business without 
 the channels of the Court of King's Bench being choked 
 up or overflowing. For nearly thirty years there were 
 not more than half a dozen cases in which the Judges 
 differed ; and not so many in which the judgments pro- 
 nounced were reversed. 
 
 But during a considerable period Lord Mansfield also 
 presided in the House of Lords, or, as a legal member 
 of that body, directed its decisions upon appeals. No- 
 thing could be more satisfactory than his conduct of this 
 very important department ; nor anything less resem- 
 Iding one at least of his most eminent successors, Lord 
 Eldon, in discharging this duty. He was master of each 
 case Avhen it was called on for hearing, and put the 
 council to argue the points made on either side in those 
 expensively prepared printed statements, which Lord 
 Eldon used to treat with the attention due to equal 
 masses of waste paper. But he did not prevent any new 
 points from being raised at the bar, any more than he 
 could wish to prevent any new arguments from being 
 urged in support of the points \\hich the printed cases 
 disclosed. He showed, too, as great firninessand vigour
 
 10(S LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 in forming his judgment, although upon questions of 
 foreign law, as he did in expediting the conduct of the 
 arguments, although in the hands of advocates accus- 
 tomed to somewhat prolix statements. AVhere he was 
 clearly convinced that the Scotch Judges had mistaken 
 their own law, he did not scruple to reverse tlieir deci- 
 sions, and restore the violated purity of the system, al- 
 though in doing so he assumed to correct those who had 
 made it the study of their lives ; even upon heads pecu- 
 liar to Scottish jurisprudence, to which the English law 
 affords no parallel, and on which he could derive no 
 light at all from his own professional hah its. It was he 
 who reversed the decision of the Court of Session upon 
 the celeljrated Duntreath case ; which, as ruled by him, 
 forms now as much the corner-stone of the Scotch law of 
 entail, as Shelly's case does that of England; and, while all 
 lawyers are now agreed that he was right, it may fairly be 
 doubted whether some of his successors, and especially 
 Lord Eldon, would have ventured to overrule some other 
 judgments in which the Scottish Courts had equally 
 gone astray in applying their own law, had not Lord 
 Mansfield shown the salutary courage which he dis- 
 played in that first and most remarkable reversal. It is 
 not easy to overrate the importance of such an able and 
 judicious administration of the powers vested in the High 
 Court of Appeal. Encumbered as that tribunal is with 
 so many difficulties from the foi'eign law which it must 
 needs administer, and without those aids from the Judges, 
 which it has at hand upon the far better known and 
 more settled matters of English Jurisprudence, nothing 
 can preserve the purity of our judicial system, or retain 
 towards it the respect and atfection of the Scottish
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 107 
 
 nation, except a succession of such able, enlightened, 
 and determined Judges as Lord Mansfield in that high 
 Court ever proved himself to be. 
 
 Upon all common cases where a Judge can have no 
 possible reason for leaning towards one side rather than 
 another in a country where judicial bribery or solici- 
 tation is unknown, no breach of strict justice can ever 
 be committed except through the temper of the indivi- 
 dual, or his want of firmness towards particular prac- 
 titioners. But occasionally there arise questions in 
 our Courts, and especially in the King's Bench, the 
 first criminal tribunal of the realm, where political 
 considerations mix themselves with the trial, and where 
 the result affects party interests or party prejudices — 
 questions, the occurrence of which would have made the 
 placing a Lord Chief Justice in the cabinet a grievous 
 breach of the constitution in 1806, although there had 
 been no other reasons against that most reprehensible 
 proceeding. That Lord Mansfield was no longer the same 
 pattern of living justice, the same lex luquens on those 
 occasions, has been very generally affirmed ; and 
 although the errors of his enemies, especially of Junius, 
 liave been long since exploded, there is little room to 
 doubt that in trials for libel he leant against the freedom 
 of discussion, and favoured those doctrines long current, 
 but now cried down by statute, which withdrew the cog- 
 nizance of the question from the Jury to vest it in the 
 Court. That he felt the same disgust at newspaper attacks 
 upon individuals, the same dislike of vehement and un- 
 measured invectives against the aljusesof our institutions, 
 Ihe same ahirm at assaults upon the existing institutions 
 themselves, which in all ages have distinguished all our
 
 108 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 judges, may readily be admitted, ^^'ho will pretend, 
 even in our days, far more before ]\Ir. Fox's Libel Act, 
 that Lord Mansfield alone of all judges defined the 
 liberty of the press only as a power of publishing with- 
 out a previous licence ? In this, as in all his opinions 
 and prejudices upon the subject, he resembled all other 
 judges of all former times, and, ^^■ith very few excep- 
 tions, those also of our own day. But that he should 
 ever betray his prejudices or his feelings in any breach 
 of justice while trying particular cases, would have been 
 eminently inconsistent with the whole tenor of his 
 cautious and circumspect demeanour upon the bench, 
 and have betokened a want of that self-command w'hich 
 in him was so habitual as to have become truly a second 
 nature. His leaning towards the side of authority was 
 once or twice remarked in cases of importance, l)ut 
 cases where both the legal principle and the practice were 
 far from being clearly settled. Thus upon a])plication 
 for a mandamus to the justices to make an order of 
 filiation upon a foreign ambassador's secretaiy, he some- 
 what hastily refused it, suj)posing the motion to be a 
 de^•ice for obtaining the court's opinion, and an attempt 
 to di"aw it into collision with foreign states. Tliis view 
 was manfully resisted by the council who moved ; and 
 Mr. Justice Yates took part with them. In the end 
 Lord JMansfield gave way, and the remedy was granted 
 as sought. But it nmst be observed, that the third 
 judge present, IMr. Justice Aston, at first entirely con- 
 curred with the Chief Justice, and only changed Ins 
 opinion upon further consideration, being moved by 
 the reasonmg of the dissenting judge. Great objection 
 was likewise taken to his directing a jury in the case of
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 109 
 
 Lord Grosvenor's action for seduction, against the Duke 
 of Cunilterland, that the rank and station of the phun- 
 tiff made no difference in his claim to damages ; an 
 opinion which, after the greater experience of later 
 times in such proceedings, appears as soon as it is 
 stated to be altogether erroneous, but, which if it 
 favoured the Prince who was defendant on the one 
 hand, certainly indicated, on the other, a sufficient res- 
 pect for the equal rights of all classes of plaintiffs, and 
 might be as unpalatable to the Aristocracy as it was 
 pleasing to the Cro^vn. 
 
 There needs little to be said of what at the time 
 created great discussion in the profession, the judgment 
 which he delivered in the celebrated case of Perrin v. 
 Blake. That it was erroneous, no lawyer can 
 doubt. But that it required all the adherence to strict 
 principle of which the most technical mind is sus- 
 ceptilile, to apply in such a question the famous Rule 
 in Shelly's case, is equally certain ; for in order to make 
 that application, and to consummate the triumph of the 
 Rule, it was necessary for the court to construe a man's 
 will giving an estate "for the life of the devisee, and 
 no longer," as a gift of that estate to him in tail, con- 
 sequently with the power of at once converting his 
 interest into a fee simple. Although it is impossible to 
 deny that this is the true legal construction of such a 
 devise, if, as in the case of J. Williams's will, the re- 
 mainder is afterwards given to the heirs of the devisee's 
 body ; for to hold otherwise would be to al>rogate the rule 
 in Shelly's case, which is both founded on strict legal 
 principles, and has for centuries been the corner-stone of 
 English conveyancing ; yet it is fit that we keep in mind
 
 110 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 the apparent paradox to which it led, in order to 
 account for so great a judge as Lord Mansfield having 
 leant against this application, which he regarded as an 
 extension of the Rule ; and from which his wise and 
 wholesome habit of always as much as possible prefer- 
 ring substance to teclmicality made him deviate. It must 
 also be observed, that here, as in the former instance, he 
 had the concurrence of his learned brethren, except- 
 ing only Mr. Justice Yates ; whose difference of opinion 
 led to liis leaving the court of King's Bench, and remov- 
 ing to the Common Pleas for the very short residue of 
 his truly respectable and useful life.* But an accident 
 of a most unimportant kind made more talk in West- 
 minster Hall than all the real merits of either the Judges 
 or the cause. It appeared that while at the bar Lord 
 Mansfield's opinion had been taken upon the point 
 raised by this very will, and that he had said, as he 
 ought to have said, " The devisee takes an estate tail, 
 and not for life." Surely no one can ever read the 
 remarks of Mr. Booth, Mr. Fearne, and other convey- 
 ancers upon this trifling circumstance, and not marvel 
 at their pedantry and captiousness, so little worthy of 
 such learned and able men. What if JNIr. Murray's 
 opinion differed from Lord JMansfield's judgment? It 
 Avould not have proved the judgment to have been 
 
 * This able, learned, and upright judge, showed a courage greatly 
 extolled in those times, but which, it is to he hoped, every member 
 of the bench would now display as a matter of course. The Minister 
 having tampered with him in -vain previous to some trial involving 
 rights of the Crown, the King was foolish or wicked enough to 
 write him a letter, and he returned it unopened. Alderman Townsend 
 stated this in Parliament, and it was not contradicted.
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 1 1 1 
 
 wrong ; and if the councillor had given Avhat on more 
 mature deliberation, and after hearing the case argued 
 l)y all the learning of the bar, the Judge deemed an 
 erroneous opinion, was he to sacrifice his duty of de- 
 ciding by his conscience at the time, to an unworthy 
 fear of appearing inconsistent ? If his opinion had un- 
 dergone a change, was he not to avow it ? Nay, was it 
 any shame to change his opinion upon hearing the sub- 
 ject for the first time fully discussed ? 
 
 The ridiculous charge brought by Junius and others 
 against his direction to the jury on the Home Circuit, 
 in a case of trespass between two unknown individuals, 
 and where no possible motive for partiality could be 
 imagined or was ever pretended, we hardly perhaps 
 should mention, were it not an illustration of the outcry 
 which absolute ignorance may sometimes succeed in 
 raising. It was the case of Mears v. Ansell, which was 
 tried before him on the circuit, in 1772; and a new 
 trial was granted by the Common Pleas on the ground 
 that the Chief Justice had improperly directed the Jury 
 to credit the testimony of two subscribing Avitnesses, 
 contrary to their signed attestation. Junius called it 
 "a new disgrace of Mansfield;" and the note to his 
 published letter, with profound ignorance of the whole 
 practice of the courts, mentioned it as a proof of ex- 
 traordinary dissatisfaction with the summing up, that 
 the new trial was granted without the payment of costs; 
 adding, " that the usual terms were thus dispensed 
 Avith." The same learned note adds, that the plaintiff's 
 attorney moved the next term to have his name struck 
 off the Roll of the King's Bench attorneys, and that "he 
 was imme<liately admitted into the Common Pleas ;" a
 
 112 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 mere matter of course, as every one but Junius must 
 have known. 
 
 As to Junius's charge of illegal conduct in bailing a 
 felon taken with the mainour, his celebrated letter 
 betrays as great ignorance of the most commonly 
 known matters of law (^. g. that Justices of Peace are 
 at sessions Judges of Record, and are Kirig's Justices) 
 as it does confusion in argument, and vacillation through 
 legal ignorance, and uncertainty about the grounds on 
 which he rests his charge. Indeed, he himself shifted 
 them in defending his first argument ; and it was at the 
 time universally allowed that he was altogether in the 
 wroue. Lord Camden was said at first to have agreed 
 with him ; but that he abandoned so untenable a ground 
 is plain from his never once, though called upon, ven- 
 turing to touch the subject. But when he had valiantly 
 denounced impeachment against the Chief Justice for 
 this bail case, much after the manner of Cobbett and 
 others in after times, this writer charged him with gross 
 partiality in reversing the decree against Lord Chatham 
 upon the suit arising out of the Burton Pynsent devise ; 
 and after this reversal had been so audaciously ascribed 
 to corrupt favour, towards his political antagonist too, 
 when the matter was examined, it was found that the 
 Commissioners of the Great Seal hud only considered 
 one point, and on that had made their decree, whereas 
 there remained another point di^cisive of the matter, 
 which way soever the former might be determined. 
 U])on this new point the Judges were consulted, and 
 upon this they were unanimous for the appeal, although 
 upon the others they differed ; so that a reversal of the 
 decree was almost a matter of course, and it was much
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 113 
 
 rather the act of the Judges than of Lord Mansfield. 
 Junius being overthrown by this plain and incontro- 
 vertible statement, had the courage to treat it as a 
 quibble only Avorthy of a barrister (Letter LXlil.), al- 
 though he had himself before explicitly said, that he 
 was at issue with Lord Mansfield's defenders on the 
 question, whether or not he (Lord Mansfield) had given 
 any opinion on the case in the House of Lords, and 
 " that this was a question of fact to be determined by 
 the evidence only." (Letter LXi.) 
 
 These things are far indeed from being unimport- 
 ant. They affect essentially the question of judicial re- 
 putation. They show upon what kind of grounds the 
 fabric of a great man's professional fame, as well as 
 the purity of his moral character, were assailed by 
 the unprincipled violence of party at the instigation 
 of their ignorance, skulking behind a signature made 
 famous by epigrammatic language and the boldness of 
 being venturesome in the person of a printer who gained 
 by allowing dastardly slander to act through him 
 with a vicarious courage. They lead to reduce the esti- 
 mate of such an authors value as much as they raise 
 the reputation of those whom, from his lurking-place, he 
 had assailed ; and they read a memorable lesson to the 
 people, if upon such subjects the people ever can be 
 taught, not to repose confidence in those who are un- 
 known against men whose whole lives are passed in the 
 face of open day, and under the constant security of 
 personal responsibility. Nor let it be forgotten upon 
 what flimsy pretences the country was required to em- 
 bark in a persecution of Lord Mansfield. Nor let it 
 cease to be remembered that upon such grounds as we 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 LORD MANSFIELD 
 
 Irave been surveying the most popular writers of the 
 day were suffered to call him " cowardly " — " cunning " 
 — "dishonest" — "a juggler" — "a bad man and a 
 worse judge " — " a creature at one time hateful, at 
 another contemptible " — " one meriting every term of 
 reproach and every idea of detraction the mind can 
 form " — " a cunning Scotchman, who never speaks 
 truth without a fraudulent design" — "a man of whom it 
 is affirmed, with the most solemn appeal to God, that 
 he is the very worst and most dangerous man in the 
 kingdom."* But it turned out afterwards that the same 
 anonymous writer, who, while he wore the mask of 
 Junius, almost ever praised Lord Chatham, had under 
 other disguises assailed him as bitterly as he had his 
 antagonists ; and his rancorous abuse of the great pa- 
 triot does all but outstrip his slanderous assaults upon 
 the venerable judge. He (Lord Chatham) is described 
 as " not a man of mixed character, whose vice might be 
 redeemed by some appearance of virtue and generosity, 
 but a man purely and perfectly bad." It is said we 
 may easily foretel "the progress of such a traitor, and 
 the probable event of his crimes," since he led " a life 
 of artifice, intrigue, hypocrisy, and impudence ;" a ca- 
 reer " which equally violates every principle of honour 
 and morality " — " an abandoned profligate" — " so black 
 a villain, that though we have no Tarpeian rock, yet a 
 gibbet is not too honourable a situation for the carcase 
 of a traitor" — "a base apostate" — "the stalking- 
 horse of a stallion " (Lord Bute) — " below contempt" 
 — " a venomous reptile " — " a lunatic " — and " a rav- 
 
 * Junius's Letters, xli. lix. Ixiii. Ixix.
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 115 
 
 ing madman."* The great gravamen, too, of these 
 charges against him is his leaning towards the Ameri- 
 cans, of whom the furious, shallow, and conceited 
 writer was a bitter and intemperate opponent, as he 
 was a bigotted advocate of the mother-country's tyranny. 
 It maysurely be saidwith justice, that such disclosures 
 as these, while they reduce to their true level the claims 
 of Junius to fame, easily account for the author having 
 died and kept his own secret. He appears to have been 
 a person in whose bosom every fierce and malignant 
 passion raged without the control of a sound judgment, 
 and without any kindly feeling to attemper his nature. 
 Writing at a time when good or even correct composi- 
 tion was little studied, and in the newspapers hardly ever 
 met with, his polished style, though veiy far from being a 
 correct one, and farther still from good pure English, 
 being made the vehicle of abuse, sarcasm, and pointed 
 invective, naturally excited a degree of attention which 
 was further maintained by the boldness of his proceed- 
 ings. No man can read a page of any letter without 
 perceiving that the writer has but one way of handling 
 every subject, and that he constructs his sentences with 
 the sole design of saying the most bitter things he can 
 in the most striking way, without ever regarding in the 
 least degree their being applicable or inapplicable to 
 the object of the attack. The consequence is, that the 
 greater part of his invective will just suit one bad man 
 or wicked minister as well as another. It is highly 
 probable that whoever he might be, he had often at- 
 tacked those with whom he lived on inthnate terms, or 
 
 * Miscellaneous Letters, published by Woodfall (1814), vol. ii. 
 
 I 2
 
 116 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 to whom he was under obligations. This affords an 
 additional reason for his dymg imrevealed. That he 
 was neither Lord Ashburton, nor any other lavi'yer, is 
 proved by what we have said of his gross ignorance of 
 law. To hold that he was INfr. Francis is libelling that 
 gentleman's memory ; and although much external evi- 
 dence occurs in pointing to^^'ards him, he certainly never 
 wrote anything of the same kind in his own character. 
 
 But those charges made against Lord Mansfield's ju- 
 dicial conduct were definite and precise. Others were 
 urged of a kind so vague, that it was impossible distinctly 
 to apprehend or pointedly to meet them. He \vas accused 
 of encroachmg upon the certainty of the common law, by 
 makuig his views bend to general notions of substantial 
 justice. That he was always anxious to get at the body 
 of the case, and deal with it so as to give merited suc- 
 cess to imdoubted right, is admitted ; and in sometimes 
 neglecting the dictates of technical rules, when they ob- 
 structed his path towards substantial justice, he might 
 possibly overlook the great advantages of having a fixed 
 rule applicable to all cases ; advantages well worth tlie 
 imavoidal)le price which must be paid for them in 
 the occasional liardsliip, or even apparent absurditj^, that 
 may attend their inflexible application. But when the 
 same objection is advanced to his introducing rules imi- 
 versally applicable, and choosing those wliich are more 
 consistent with common sense and liberal feeling than 
 with merely technical analogy, we are bound to turn from 
 the criticism with indignation. By tliis course he was 
 improving our jurisprudence, and not encroaching upon 
 its principles ; nor was the certainty of the law in any way 
 impaired by establishing its rules upon an enlarged basis.
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. J 17 
 
 That he was fond of drawing over equitable notions 
 from the Courts in which he had been chiefly trained, and 
 applying them to the consideration of legal matters, is the 
 same objection in another form. Some of the most valua- 
 ble portions of our common law remedies are derived from 
 Equity ; witness the action for money had and received, 
 and indeed the action of Indebitatus assumpsit generally : 
 and special pleaders who never saw a bill or an answer, 
 but when they were used in evidence at nisi prius, such 
 men as Mr. Justice Chambre, (among the first orna- 
 ments of his profession, as among the most honest and 
 amiable of men,) have shown their sense of the advantage 
 thus gained to the common law by reminding other but 
 less learned men, like Lord Chief Justice Gibbs, of this 
 circumstance, when they grounded their argument upon 
 the position that the point they were attacking was one of 
 an equitable, and not of a legal consideration. As for the 
 clamour (and it was nothing more than clamour, and ig- 
 norant clamour too,) that Lord Mansfield was making 
 the old Saxon principlesof our jurisprudence bendtothose 
 of the Civil Law, it is wholly marvellous that men of any 
 understanding or education should have ever been found so 
 much the slaves of faction as to patronise it. Lord JMans- 
 field at no period of his life e^'er had, or could have had, 
 the least predilection for the civil law, arising from any 
 familiarity with its institutions. He never was a Scotch 
 advocate at all ; or if he was, it must have been in the 
 cradle, for he left Scotland at three years of age. With 
 the Consistorial Courts, if by their practice the Civil Law 
 is meant, he had necessarily very little intercourse.* 
 
 * It would, in our times, have been impossible for him to have 
 any practice at all in these courts unless in cases of appeal, formerly
 
 118 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 Chancery has nothing to do with that system unless in so 
 far as it prefers the bad practice of written depositions 
 to viva voce examinations ; and also in so far as every 
 rational system of jurisprudence must necessarily have 
 much in common with the most perfect structure that 
 ever was formed of rules for classifying rights and mar- 
 shalling the remedies for wrongs. Nor can anything be 
 foimd in aU the train of his decisions which betokens 
 more leaning towards the Roman code, than a regard for 
 the enlarged and universal principles of abstract justice 
 sanctioned, if it did not prescribe. Yet could the most 
 popular writers of the day, those too whose pretences even 
 to legal learnins were the most obtrusive, denounce the 
 Chief Justice as engaged in a deliberate plot to reduce 
 slavery to system, " by making the Roman code the law 
 of nations, and the opinion of foreign civihans his pei-- 
 petual theme," after the example of " the Norman 
 huvyers, who made the Norman Conquest complete ;" 
 and as thus " corrupting by such treacherous arts the 
 noble simplicitj' and free spirit of our Saxon h«vs."* 
 Ignorance cannot surely go beyond this pouit. The 
 civil law only became hostile to liberty, through the im- 
 perial portion of it introduced by the Emperors, and 
 which made the will of the Prince the law of the land. 
 In no other particular is it at variance with freedom ; 
 and who ever dreamt that Lord Mansfield had the 
 power of introducing that portion, let his inclination 
 have been ever so nmch bent in such a direction ? 
 
 before the Delegates, now in the Privy Council. But when Lord Mans- 
 field was at the bar it was tlie custom for common lawyers to attend 
 important cases in Doctors' Commons. This, however, was of rare 
 occurrence. 
 
 * Junius's Letters, No. xli.
 
 LORD MANSFIELH. 119 
 
 But this topic leads us to the political charges which 
 were brought against this great magistrate. Unfortu- 
 nately for his fame as well as for his tranquillity, he 
 continued to mix in politics, after he ceased to be in the 
 service of the crown as an advocate. He not only acted 
 as Speaker of the House of Lords for above a year, but 
 for a much longer time he had a seat in the cabinet, 
 and took a part in the business of government, all the 
 more objectionable in his position, that it was much 
 more active tlian it was open and avowed. 
 
 While the great seal was in commission previous to 
 Lord Bathurst's obtaining it as Chancellor, Lord Mans- 
 field was, to all political intents and purposes, the 
 Chancellor, without having the responsibility of that 
 high oifice. Nor did he less act as the legal ad- 
 viser of the government, when that worthy, but some- 
 what feeble individual, more ostensibly filled the place. 
 The vice of the chief justice's character was a want of 
 boldness, that made him shrink from personal responsi- 
 bility. Hence he never would accept the first station in 
 the law ; and hence, too, he was believed to have urged 
 or advised many tilings, which he either had opposed 
 or had only passively suffered : for, when once a states- 
 man acquires the evil reputation of shunning respon- 
 sibility while he seeks power, tliere is no preventing the 
 world from tracing every mischief to a source which 
 appears to hide itself only because there is something to 
 conceal. 
 
 The same want of nerve more than once appeared in 
 his judicial proceedings. When Lord Camden, a man 
 inferior to him in everything but courage, openly 
 attacked his libel law in Woodfall's case, and dared
 
 120 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 him to defend it, he contented himself with saying, " He 
 would not answer interrogatories." He afterwards 
 challenged Lord Camden to meet him and argue the 
 question, and when Lord Camden named his day, he 
 refused to debate it. He then had the lords summoned 
 to hear the matter discussed ; and he came down and 
 had the house precipitately adjourned, after giving in a 
 paper to the clerk, containing a note of the Opinions of 
 the Judges. When asked if he meant to have it taken 
 into consideration by the house, and would move accord- 
 ingly, he said, " Oh no, he only meant to give the peers 
 an opportunity of seeing, and, if they chose, taking 
 copies of the note." When desired to say if he would 
 have it entered on the journals, his answer again was, 
 " No, only to leave it with the clerk." ^Ve may venture 
 to affirm that no such course of proceeding could safely 
 be pursued by the lioldest judge of our own day, or 
 would be resorted to by the most timid, ^^'^e may also 
 form an opinion from such conduct in that great judge, 
 how very different a line he would have taken in such a 
 struggle with the commons, as his honest and patriotic 
 successor has lately been engaged in, had he lived in 
 these times of high parliamentary pretension. 
 
 If we possess hardly any remains of Lord Mans- 
 field's speeches at the bar or in parliament, we have 
 considerable materials from which to form an estimate 
 of his judicial eloquence. The Reports of Sir James 
 Burrows are carefully corrected, to all appearance ; 
 probably by the learned Judges themselves. Many of the 
 judgments of the Chief Justice are truly admirable in 
 substance, as well as composition ; and upon some of 
 the greater questions, his oratory rises to the full height
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 121 
 
 of the occasion. It would be difficult to overrate the 
 merit of the celebrated address to the public, then in a 
 state of excitement almost unparalleled, with which he 
 closed his judgment upon the application to reverse 
 Wilkes's outlawry. Great elegance of composition, 
 force of diction, just and strong but natural ex- 
 pression of personal feelings, a commanding attitude of 
 defiance to lawless threats, but so assumed and so tem- 
 pered with the dignity which was natural to the man, 
 and which here, as on all other occasions, he sustained 
 throughout, «,11 render this one of the most striking pro- 
 ductions on record. The courage, however, rested 
 mainly, if not entirely, in the tone and the words ; for, 
 after disposing of the argument, and on all the grounds 
 taken at the bar refusing the reversal, he arrives, by a 
 short and unexpected byeway, at the means of granting 
 ]Mr. Wilkes's application ; and he was therefore well 
 aware all the while that he was reversing the accustomed 
 relation of the suaviter and the fortiter ; nor could be 
 said to do othenvise than couch in the language of re- 
 buke and refusal a full compliance with the popular 
 demands. 
 
 His character in private life was unimpeachable. He 
 never had any children, but his domestic virtues were 
 without a stain. His choicest relaxation was in the 
 polished society of literaiy men and lovers of the arts ; 
 and his powers of conversation are extolled in all the 
 traditions that have reached the present age, as of a 
 veiy high order. That his manners were polished and 
 winning can easily be believed from the impression his 
 public appearances uniformly made. But when to these 
 were added his great and various knowledge, chiefly of
 
 122 LORD MANSFIELD. 
 
 a kind available to the uses of society, his cheerful 
 spirits and mild temper, his love of harmless pleasantry, 
 and his povrer of contributing towards it by a refined 
 and classical wit, it is not difficult to understand what 
 the reports mean which imite in describing him as fasci- 
 nating beyond almost all other men of his time. Through 
 a vigorous constitution, upon which no excess of any 
 kind, in mind or in body, had ever made inroads, he 
 lived to an extreme old age, dying from exhausted 
 nature when near uinet)'. He presided in court regu- 
 larly tiU he reached his eightj^-second year, and resigned 
 formally in his eighty-fourth, having continued to hold 
 his liish office for two or three years longer than he 
 ought to have done or could discharge its duties, in the 
 hope of prevailing with the ministry to appoint his 
 favourite Judge Buller his successor. But Mr. Pitt 
 %^hile at the bar, had seen things in that able and un- 
 scrupulous magistrate which made him resolve that no 
 such infliction should fall on the English bench ; and it 
 is to liis virtuous resolution that the preference of Lord 
 Kenyon was due, which Lord Thurlow always arro- 
 gated to himself. 
 
 It has become the more necessaiy to dwell at some 
 length upon the history of tliis great man, because a 
 practice has prevailed of late years in the profession 
 which he adorned, and even upon the bench which he 
 so much more than any of his predecessors illustrated, 
 of treatmg him with nuich less respect than is his due. 
 The narrow minds of little men cannot expand even to 
 the full apprehension of that excellence with which 
 superior natures are gifted, or which they have by cul- 
 ture attained. They are sufficiently susceptible how-
 
 LORD MANSFIELD. 123 
 
 ever of envious feelings to begrudge virtue the admira- 
 tion which it has justly earned ; and jealous that any 
 portion of applause should be drawn away from the 
 puny technicalities of their own obscure walk, they carp 
 at some trifling slips which may have been made in the 
 less weighty matters of the law, the only portions their 
 understandings can grasp. It has thus grown into a 
 kind of habit with some men, very respectable in their 
 own department, to decry Lord ]\Iansfield as no lawyer, 
 to speak lightly of his decisions, and to gratulate them- 
 selves that he did not intrude yet greater changes into 
 our legal system by further departure from strict rules. 
 But a more enlarged view even of the rigorous doctrines 
 of our jurisprudence, will at once brush these cavils 
 away, and show the truth of a position ever denied by 
 the vulgar both gowned and ungowned, that great minds 
 may be as correct in details, as powerful to deal with the 
 most general principles.
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 
 
 Of the class of the inferior though able men to whom 
 we have just referred, the late Sir Vicary Gibbs was 
 certainly among the most eminent ; and he had all the 
 perfections of the order, and more than the ordinary 
 share of its fimlts. It is a great error committed only 
 by those who view them from afar off, to miagine that 
 their learnmg is of a confined nature, either in their own 
 profession or in other branches of education. They are 
 in no respect mere special pleaders, or uxen familiar 
 only with the practice of the courts. They are even in 
 some respects not to be termed mere lawyers. Tliey 
 are acquainted mth the whole of the law, which they 
 have studied accurately, and might also be admittt-d to 
 have studied profoundly, if depth can be predicated of 
 those researches, which instinctively dreading to pene- 
 trate the more stubborn and more deep-lying vein of 
 first principle, always carry the labourer towards the 
 shallower and softer bed that contains the relics of former 
 workmen, and make him rest satisfied w'lili these patterns 
 as the guide and the rule. All that has been said or writ- 
 ten, however, by text-men or by judges, they know; and 
 of it aU, mucli practice has given them great expertness 
 in the application. Then their education has not been 
 confined to mere matter of law. It has indeed been far 
 from a very enlarged one ; nor has it brought them into 
 a familiar acquaintance with the scenes which expand 
 the mmd, make it conscious of new powers, and lead it
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 125 
 
 to compare, and expatiate, and explore. Yet has this 
 course of instruction not been without its value ; for 
 they are generally well versed in classical literature, and 
 often acquainted with mathematical science. From the 
 one, however, they derive little beside the polish which 
 it communicates, and the taste which it refines ; from the 
 other, they only gain a love of strict and inflexible rules, 
 with a disinclination towards the relaxation and allow- 
 ances prescribed by the diversities of moral evidence. 
 From both they gather a profound deference for all that 
 has been said or done before them, an exclusive vene- 
 ration for antiquity, and a pretty unsparing contempt 
 for the unlettered and unpolished class which form and 
 ever nuist form the great bulk of mankind in all com- 
 munities. A disrespect for all foreign nations and their 
 institutions, has long been another appointed fruit of 
 the same tree ; and it has been in proportion to the 
 overweening fondness for everything in our own system, 
 whether of polity or of mere law. The long interrup- 
 tion of all intercourse with the continent durinsr the 
 late Avar, had greatly increased these narrow and absurd 
 prejudices, which are now somewhat more nearly 
 brought back to their ancient level. But still the precise 
 dictates of English statutes, and the dicta of English 
 judges and English text-writers, are with them the 
 standard of justice ; and in their vocabulary, English 
 law is as much a synonyme for the perfection of 
 wisdom, as in that of Dean Swift's imaginary kingdom, 
 Houynhm was for the " perfection of nature." 
 
 Of lawyers who belong to this class, by far the most 
 numerous in the profession, it is also a great mistake to 
 suppose that the talents are confined to mere legal
 
 126 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 
 
 matters, the discussion of dry points, and the conduct of 
 suits according to technical rules. Many of them are 
 subtle and most able arguers ; some even powerful 
 reasoners. As admirable a display of logical acumen, 
 in long and sustained chains of pure ratiocination, is 
 frequently exhibited among their ranks as can be seen 
 in the cultivators of any department of rhetoric, or the 
 students of any branch of science. They often make 
 high pretences to eloquence, and, ^^^thout attaining its 
 first rank, are frequently distinguished for great powers 
 of speech, as well as extraordinaiy skill in the manage- 
 ment of business. Their legal reputation, however, is 
 the chief object of their care ; and in their pursuit of 
 oratoj-y, they aim far more at being eloquent la\vj'ers 
 than orators learned in the law. Hence their estimate 
 of professional merit is all fomied on the same prin- 
 ciple, and graduated by one scale. They undervalue 
 the accomplishments of the rhetorician, without de- 
 spising them ; and they are extremely suspicious of any 
 enlarged or general views upon so serious a subject as 
 the law. Change, they with difficulty can bring their 
 minds to believe possible ; at least any change for the 
 better ; and speculation or theory on such matters is so 
 much an object of distrust, or rather of mingled con- 
 tempt and aversion, that when they would describe any 
 thing ridiculous, or even anomalous in the profession, 
 they cannot go beyond what they call " a speculative 
 lawyer." To expect success in such a one's career was 
 formerly thought absurd. But the great triumph of 
 Sir Samuel Romilly was a sore stumbling-block to 
 technical minds. A free-thinker upon legal matters, 
 if ever any existed ; accomplished, learned, eloquent,
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 127 
 
 philosophical ; he yet rose to the very head of his pro- 
 fession, and compelled them to believe what Erskine 
 had failed to make them admit — that a man may be 
 minutely learned in all the mere niceties of the law, 
 down to the very meanest details of Court Practice, and 
 yet be able to soar above the higher levels of general 
 speculation, and to charm by his eloquence, and en- 
 lighten by his enlarged wisdom, as much as to rule 
 the Bench and head the Bar by his merely technical 
 superiority. 
 
 The pi-ofessional character of the men whom we are 
 discussing is generally pure and lofty; the order to 
 which they belong is sacred in their eyes ; its fame, its 
 dignity, even to its etiquette, must all be kept unsul- 
 lied; and whatever maybe their prejudices and their 
 habits, political or professional, how great soever their 
 deference to power, how profound their veneration for 
 the bench, how deep-rooted their attachment to existing 
 institutions, how fierce their hostility to all innovations, 
 how grave or how scornful their frown upon the mul- 
 titude at large, yet is their courage undaunted in 
 defending whatever client may intrust his suit to their 
 patronage, be he a rabble-leader or a treason-monger, a 
 libeller or a blasphemer ; and in discharging towards 
 him the high duties of their representative character, 
 they so little regard either the resentment of the 
 government, or the anger of the court, that they hardly 
 are conscious of any eiFort in sacrificing every personal 
 consideration to the performance of their representative, 
 and because it is representative, their eminently import- 
 ant office. 
 
 Of the men whom we have now endeavoured to pour-
 
 128 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 
 
 tray as a class. Sir Vicary Gibbs was a perfect sample. 
 Endowed by nature with great acuteness, and an unli- 
 mited power of application, he became, to use his own 
 somewhat unseemly expression, towards as considerable 
 a man as himself, and a far more amiable one, " as good 
 a lawyer as that kind of man can be." Disciplined by 
 an excellent classical education, the fruits of which stuck 
 by him to the last, and somewhat acquainted ttith the 
 favourite pursuits of Cambridge men, his taste was always 
 correct, and his reasoning powers were as considerable 
 as they ever can be in a mind of his narrow range. To 
 eloquence he made only moderate pretences ; yet was his 
 language, which gurgled out rather than flowed, often 
 happy, ah^ays clear and transparent, owning a source 
 sufliciently pure, if somewhat shallow, and conveying 
 ideas not numerous, not original, not fetched from afar, 
 not brought up from the lower beds of the \^'ell, yet suited 
 to each occasion, Avell imder controul, and made easily 
 accessil)le to others in the same proportion in which 
 they were correctly apprehended by himself. His legal 
 arguments were often much to be admired. He did not 
 go by steps, and move on from point to point, garnishing 
 each head with two observations, as many citations, and 
 twice as many cases ; so that the whole argument should 
 be without breadth or relief, and each single portion 
 seem as much as any other the pivot upon which the 
 conclusion turned — but he brought out his governing 
 principle roundly and broadly ; he put forward his lead- 
 uig idea by which the rest were to be marshalled and 
 ruled ; he used his master-key at once, and used it 
 throughout, till he had unlocked all the apartments by 
 which he mounted to the Great Chamber, and he left the
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 1 '29 
 
 closets untouched, that they who followed him might, if 
 they chose, waste their time in picking the locks ; or 
 lose their way in the dark bye-passages. It might be 
 said of him, as he said himself of Sir James Mansfield, 
 that " he declared the law," while he argued his cases ; 
 and while others left only the impression on the hearer 
 that many authorities had been cited, and much reading 
 displayed, his argument penetrated into the mind, and 
 made it assent to his positions, without much regard- 
 ing the support they found from other quarters. But 
 he was also a very considerable person at JVisi Prius. 
 His correct and easy knowledge of all legal matters 
 was here by no means his only superiority. He was 
 ready in dealing with evidence ; he could present to the 
 Jury the facts of his case boldly and in high relief ; 
 though he was wholly unable to declann, and never 
 dreamt of addressing the feelings or the passions, any 
 more than if he were speaking to mummies without any 
 sensation, much less any feelings or passions to address ; 
 yet he could, especially when cloathed with the dignity 
 of high official station, deliver himself with consider- 
 able emphasis, though without any fluency, and could 
 effiect the purpose of impressing the facts upon the 
 July's mind, by the same strong and even choice phrases, 
 sparingly used, though coming out with little flow 
 of words, and no roundness of period, which we have 
 remarked among the characteristics of his argu- 
 ments to the Court upon the law. Those who heard 
 his cross-examination of Colonel Wardle, in the prose- 
 cution of Mrs. Clarke, and who understood the real 
 circumstances in which the concerted cross-exami- 
 nation of Major Glenie and Captain Dodd was conducted 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 
 
 by Mr. Garrow, could be at no loss in greatly preferring 
 the former display of professional skill and energy. Nor 
 was his address to the Jury less remarkable for energy 
 and for skill. It was a case indeed in which his whole 
 feelings were strongly embarked : he had defended the 
 Duke of York Avitli much ability of a professional kind 
 in the House of Commons, where other influences than 
 that of pure reason were very prevalent ; and he rejoiced 
 to meet upon his own ground the adversaries whom he 
 had failed to defeat upon theirs. 
 
 The Treason Trials of 1 794 were the occasion of this 
 able barrister first being introduced to public notice, 
 and they accelerated his professional rise, although he 
 had already been made secure of great success. He 
 was second council to JMr. Erskine,* as Mr. Erskine 
 had been in Lord George Gordon's case to Mr. Kenyon, 
 afterwards Lord Chief Justice. But although Mr. 
 Gibbs's sunmiing up of the evidence was allowed, on 
 all hands, to be a masterly performance, and of very 
 signal service to the cause, the overwhelming genius of 
 his great leader so far eclipsed him, that while, in 1780, 
 no one spoke of the chief, but all admiration was re- 
 served for the second in command, in 1794 the leader 
 alone was mentioned, and the important conti-ibution 
 
 * There was a third, on account of the extreme labour cast upon 
 the counsel, and, by a kind of connivance, the Court permitted this, 
 although the statute of William III. only allows two, while the Crown 
 had above half a dozen. This third was Mr., now Baron, Gumey, 
 a warm friend of civil and religious liberty, and of that highly re- 
 spectable and useful family to whom the art of stenography and the 
 history of public proceedings owes much ; and whose steady and 
 honest adherence to their principles covers them with honour.
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 131 
 
 made by the junior to the mighty victory escaped all 
 but professional observation. In Westminster Hall, 
 however, it was estimated at its real worth ; and, not- 
 withstanding his narrow-minded notions on political 
 matters, his slavish adherence to the Toiy party, his 
 bigotted veneration for existing things, and hatred of 
 all disaffection, or even discontent, the courage and per- 
 severance which he displayed throughout that trying 
 scene, both towards the government whom he was de- 
 feating in their frantic scheme, and towards the court 
 whom he was constantly joining his leader to beard, 
 was not surpassed by the technical ability which he 
 showed, — nay, was not exceeded even by the manly 
 boldness which won for that leader the most imperisli- 
 able of all his titles to the admiration and gratitude of 
 mankind. 
 
 The general narrowness of Sir Vicary Gibbs' mind 
 has been marked ; but on the side of vanity and self- 
 conceit it was out of proportion to its dimensions in 
 other parts. It always seemed as if no one could do 
 anything to please him, save one individual; and his 
 performances were rated at the most exorbitant value. 
 Nay, the opinion of that favoured personage he esti- 
 mated so liighly, that there always lay an appeal to him 
 from the bench, as well as from every other authority ; 
 and it was sometimes truly laughable to observe the 
 weight which he attached to a single sentence or a 
 word from one with whom he was ever so entirely 
 satisfied. On a certain trial he had occasion to mention 
 some recent victories of Lord Wellington's army in the 
 Peninsula, and had named three battles with praise not 
 very lavish, because every word was deemed of inesti- 
 
 k2
 
 132 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 
 
 mable value, but had omitted Busaco ; he corrected him- 
 self very ostentatiously, and went back to include that 
 fight, with the feeling- manifest to all who heard him, 
 that real and irreparable, possibly fatal, injuiy would be 
 done to the troops, had the momentary omission unhappily 
 not been supplied, ^^'lien he came among the heads of 
 the law, wh.ether in his OAvn court or at occasional 
 meetings of the twelve, even while junior puisne judge, 
 he arrogated the place and deference due to the chief of 
 the whole ; and when he was made first Chief Baron, 
 and afterwards Chief Justice, there were no bounds tu 
 his contempt for all the opinions of all his brethren, 
 although it is an undeniable fact, that he was not nearly 
 so much distinguished for the soundness of his opinions 
 upon the bench as he had been for the excellence of his 
 arguments at the bar. In trials at IVisi Prius he was 
 distinguished for the little and peevish temper which 
 predominated in him, often to the seeming injury of his 
 judgment, almost always to the detriment of his judicial 
 powers ; and so absolutely was he persuaded of his own 
 universal capacity, and the universal unfitness of others, 
 that it was no uncommon thing for him to ask, some- 
 what rouglily, for a council's brief, that he might see 
 what was intended to be stated ; then lecture the attorney 
 who had prepared it ; soon after the ^vitnesses ; and 
 down to the officers of the court, whose functions of 
 keeping silence and order he would occasionally himself 
 undertake to perform. So that it was not an uncom- 
 mon remark that the learned Chief Justice was 
 performing at once in his own person, the offices of 
 judge and jury, council for both parties, attorneys for 
 both, ^vitnesses on both sides, and crier of the court.
 
 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 133 
 
 To the same conceited spirit was owing his much 
 graver offence of parading rash opinions upon branches 
 of the law with which the previous habits of his life 
 had never brought him very familiarly acquainted, and 
 even of forming hasty judgments upon matters to which 
 he was more accustomed. Certain it is, that there were 
 decisions, both of his own at Nisi Prius, and afterwards 
 of the Court in Banc, which he persisted in forcing 
 upon his brethren, and ^\'hich do little credit to any of 
 the parties concerned in them. 
 
 The survey which has just been taken of this emi- 
 nent councillor does not show him as filling the highest 
 places in his profession ; and yet if we follow him into 
 the House of Commons, the falling off is very great 
 indeed. There he really had no place at all ; and 
 feeling his nullity, there was no place to which he was 
 with more visible reluctance dragged by the power 
 that office gives the government over its lawyers. He 
 could only obtain a hearing upon legal questions, and 
 those he handled not with such felicity or force as repaid 
 the attention of the listener. He seldom attempted 
 more than to go through the references from one act of 
 parliament to another ; and though he was doing only 
 a mechanical ^A■ork, he gave out each sentence as if he 
 had been consulted and gifted like an oracle, and 
 looked and spoke as if when citing a section he was 
 making a discovery. When Mr. Perceval was shot, 
 his nerves, formerly excellent, suddenly and entirely 
 failed him ; and he descended from the station of Attor- 
 ney-General to that of a Puisne Judge in the Common 
 Pleas. 
 
 Of his political prejudices, which were quite intole-
 
 134 LORD CHIEF JUSTICE GIBBS. 
 
 rant and quite sincere, mention has already been made. 
 To the cause of reform in all its shapes and under 
 what name soever, he was the bitter enemy. Towards 
 all who indulged in free discussion, whether of mea- 
 sures or of men, he was an implacable adversary. The 
 Press, therefore, engaged a large share of his dislike ; 
 and under the combined influence of exasperation and 
 alarm he filed so many ex officio informations in a few 
 months, tliat no two attorney-generals ever in a long 
 course of years loaded the files of the court with as 
 many. It was his truly painful fortune that, as most 
 of these regarded the attacks on the Duke of York, he 
 was compelled soon to withdraw thena all ; while in 
 several of the others he was defeated ; and partly by 
 his excessive use of the power, partly by his failure in 
 the exercise of it, he had the agony, to him most excru- 
 ciating, of both being signally defeated in his attempts 
 to crush the press, and of causmg all the discussions of 
 the ex officio power Avhich first brought it into hatred 
 and then into disuse. 
 
 This is that successful barrister, that skilful special 
 pleader, that acute lawyer on common points, that 
 dextrous and expert practitioner, (for all this he was as 
 certainly as he was a little-minded man) — this is he 
 whom the men that contemn Lord Erskine, and look 
 down upon Lord Mansfield, and would fain, if they 
 durst, raise their small voices against Sir Samuel Ro- 
 milly, hold up as the pattern of an English la^vyer.
 
 in^rarM, hy \^.2i.i^^U,. 
 
 Sim WXK.1L1CAM &MAMT. 
 
 >/^m /i-- 
 
 
 Vea/itxi//
 
 SIR WILLIAM GRANT. 
 
 If from contemplating the figure of the eminent 
 though narrow-minded lawyer whom we have been sur- 
 veying, we turn to that of his far more celebrated con- 
 temporaiy, Sir William Grant, we shall find, with some 
 marked resemblances, chiefly in political opinions and 
 exaggerated dread of change, a very marked diversity in 
 all the more important features of character, whether 
 intellectual or moral. We have now named in some 
 respects the most extraordinary individual of his time — 
 one certainly than whom none ever better sustained the 
 judicial office, though its functions were administered by 
 liim upon a somewhat contracted scale — one than whom 
 none ever descended from the fonmi into the senate 
 with more extraordmary powers of argumentation, or 
 flourished there with greater renown. It happened to 
 this great judge to have been for many years at the 
 bar with a very moderate share of practice ; and 
 although his parliamentary exertions never tore him 
 away from his profession, yet his public character rested 
 entirely upon their success until he was raised to the 
 bench. 
 
 The genius of the man then shone forth with extraor- 
 dinary lustre. His knowledge of law, which had hitherto 
 V)een scanty and never enlarged by practice, was now ex- 
 panded to whatever dimensions might seem required for 
 j)erforming his high office ; nor was he ever remarked 
 as at all deficient even in llie branch most difficult to
 
 136 SIR WILLIAM GRANT. 
 
 master without forensic habits, the accomplishments 
 of a case-la«yer ; while his familiaritj^ with the prin- 
 ciples of jurisprudence and his knowledge of theu- 
 foundations, was ample as his application of them was 
 easy and masterly. The Rolls Court, however, in 
 those days, was one of comparatively contracted busi- 
 ness ; and, although he gave the most entue satisfac- 
 tion there, and in presiding at the Pri\'y Council in 
 Prize and Plantation Appeals, a doubt was always raised 
 by the admirers of Lord Eldon, whether Sir William 
 Grant could have as well ans\A-ered the larger demands 
 upon his judicial resources, had he presided in the 
 Court of Chancerj'. That doubt appears altogether 
 unfoimded. He possessed the first great quality for 
 dispatching business (the " real " and not " affected 
 dispatch" of Lord Bacon), a power of steadily fixing 
 his attention upon the matter before him, and keeping it 
 invarialily directed towards the successive arguments 
 addressed to him. Tlie certainty that not a word was 
 lost deprived the advocate of all excuse for repetition ; 
 while the respect wliich his judge inspired checked need- 
 less proli.xity, and deterred him from raising desperate 
 points merely to have them frowned down by a tribunal 
 as severe as it was patient. He had not, indeed, to ap- 
 prehend any interruption — that was a course never prac- 
 tised in those days at the Rolls or the Cockpit ; but 
 while the judge sat passive and immoved, it was plain 
 that, though his powers of endurance had no limits, his 
 powers of discriminating were ever active as his atten- 
 tion was ever awake ; and as it requii-ed an eminent 
 hardihood to place base coin before so scrutinising an 
 eve, or tender light money to be weighed in such accu-
 
 SIR WILLIAM GUANT. 137 
 
 rate scales as Sir William Grant's ; so few men ventured 
 to exercise a patience which yet all kne;v to ])e im- 
 bounded. It may, indeed, be fairly doubted whether the 
 main force of muscular exertion, so much more clumsily 
 applied by Sir John Leach in the same court to effect 
 the great object of his efforts — the close compression of 
 the debate — ever succeeded so well, or reduced the mass 
 to as small a bulk as the delicate hydraulic press of his 
 illustrious predecessor did, without giving the least pain 
 to the advocate, or in any one instance obstructing the 
 course of calm, deliberate, and unwearied justice. 
 
 The court in those days presented a spectacle which 
 fifforded true delight to every person of sound judgment 
 and pure taste. After a long and a silent hearmg — a hear- 
 ing of all that could be urged by the council of every 
 party — unljroken by a single word, and when the spec- 
 tator of Sir William Grant (for he was not heard) 
 might suppose that his mind had been absent from a 
 scene in which he took no apparent share, the debate 
 was closed — the advocate's hour «'as passed — the parties 
 were in silent expectation of the event — the hall no 
 longer resounded with any voice — it seemed as if the 
 affair of the day, for the present, was over, and the 
 Court was to adjourn or to call for another cause. No! 
 The judge's time had now arrived, and another artist \^'as 
 to fill the scene. The great Magistrate began to pro- 
 noimce his judgment, and every eye and every ear was 
 at length fixed upon the bench. Forth came a strain 
 of clear unbroken fluency, disposing alike, in most 
 luminous order, of all the facts and of all tlie arguments 
 in the cause ; reducing into clear and simple arrange- 
 ment, the most entangled masses of broken and con-
 
 138 SIR WILLIAM GRANT. 
 
 flicting statement ; weighing each matter, and disposing 
 of each in succession ; settUng one doubt by a paren- 
 thetical remark ; passing over another difficulty by a 
 reason only more decisive that it was condensed ; and 
 giving out the whole unpression of the case, in every 
 material view, upon the judge's mind, with argument 
 enough to show why he so thought, and to prove him 
 right, and without so much reasoning as to make you 
 forget that it was a judgment you were hearing, by 
 overstepping the bounds which distinguish a Judgment 
 from a Speech. This is the perfection of Judicial 
 Eloquence ; not avoiding argument, but confining it to 
 such reasoning as l)eseems him who has rather to ex- 
 plain the grounds of his own conviction, than to labour 
 at convincing others ; not rejecting reference to 
 authority, but never betokening a disposition to seek 
 shelter behind other men's names, for what he might 
 fear to pronounce in his own person ; not disdaining 
 even ornaments, but those of the more chastened graces 
 that accord with the severe standard of a judge's 
 oratory. Tliis perfection of judicial eloquence Sir 
 William Grant attained, and its effect upon all listeners 
 was as certain and as powerful as its merits were incon- 
 testable and exalted. 
 
 In parliament he is unquestionably to be classed 
 with speakers of the first order. His style was pe- 
 culiar ; it was that of the closest and severest reasoning 
 ever heard in any popular assembly ; reasoning which 
 would have been reckoned close in the argumentation of 
 the bar or the dialectics of the schools. It was, from 
 the first to the last, throughout, pure reason and the 
 triumph of pure reason. All was sterling, all perfectly
 
 SIR WILLIAM GRANT. 139 
 
 plain ; there was no point in the diction, no illustration 
 in the topics, no ornament of fancy in the accompani- 
 ments. The language was choice — perfectly clear, 
 abundantly correct, quite concise, admirably suited to 
 the matter which the words clothed and conveyed. In 
 so far it was felicitous, no farther ; nor did it ever leave 
 l^eliind it any impression of the diction, but only of the 
 things said ; the \^'ords were forgotten, for they had never 
 drawn off the attention for a moment from the things ; 
 those things were alone rememljered. No speaker was 
 more easily listened to; none so difficult to answer. Once 
 Mr. Fox, when he was hearing him with a view to 
 making that attempt, was irritated in a way very un- 
 wonted to his sweet temper l)y the conversation of some 
 near hmi, even to the show of some crossness, and (after 
 an exclamation) sharply said, " Do you think it so very 
 pleasant a thing to have to answer a speech like that?" 
 The two memorable occasions on ;vliich this great 
 reasoner was observed to be most injured by a reply, 
 were in that of Mr. Wdberlbrce quoting Clarendon's 
 remarks on the conduct of the judges in the Ship Money 
 Case, when Sir William Grant had undertaken to defend 
 his friend Lord Melville ; and in that of Lord Lans- 
 downe (then Lord Henry Petty), three years later, 
 when the legality of the famous orders in council was 
 debated. Here, however, the speech was made on one 
 day, and the answer, able and triumphant as it was, 
 followed on the next. 
 
 It may safely be said that a long time will elapse 
 before there shall arise such a light to illuminate either 
 the Senate or the Bench, as the eminent person whose 
 rare excellence we have just been pausing to contem-
 
 140 SIR WILLIAM GRANT. 
 
 plate. That excellence was no doubt limited in its 
 sphere ; there Avas no imagination, no vehemence, no 
 declamation, no wit ; but the sphere was the highest, 
 and in that highest sphere its place was lofty. The 
 understanding alone was addressed by the understand- 
 ing; the faculties that distinguish our nature were 
 those over which the oratory of Sir William Grant 
 asserted its control. His sway over the rational and 
 intellectual portion of mankind was that of a more 
 powerful reason, a more vigorous intellect than theirs ; 
 a sway which no man had cause for being ashamed of 
 admitting, because the victory was won by superior 
 force of argument ; a sway which the most dignified 
 and exalted genius might hold without stooping from 
 its highest pinnacle, and which some who might not 
 deign to use inferior arts of persuasion, could find no 
 objection whatever to exercise. 
 
 Yet in this purely intellectual picture, there remains 
 to be noted a discrepancy, a want of keeping, something 
 more than a shade. The commanding intellect, the close 
 reasoner, who could overpower other men's understand- 
 ing by the superior force of his own, was the slave of his 
 own prejudices to such an extent, that he could see only 
 the perils of revolution in any reformation of our institu- 
 tions, and never conceived it possible that the monarchy 
 could be safe, or that anarchy could be warded off, 
 unless all things were maintained upon the same 
 footing on which they stood in early, unenlightened, 
 and inexpei'ienced ages of the world. The signal 
 blunder, which Bacon long ago exposed, of confounding 
 the youth with the age of the species, was never com- 
 mitted by any one more glaringly than by this great
 
 SIR WILLIAM GRANT. 141 
 
 reasoner. He it was who first employed the well- 
 known phrase of " the wisdom of our ancestors ;" and 
 the menaced innovation, to stop which he applied it, 
 was the proposal of Sir Samuel Romilly to take the 
 step of reform almost imperceptibly small, of subject- 
 ing men's real property to the payment of all their 
 debts. Strange force of early prejudice; of prejudice 
 suffered to warp the intellect while yet feeble and im- 
 informed, and which owed its origin to the very error 
 that it embodied in its conclusions, the making the 
 errors of mankind in their ignorant and inexperienced 
 state, the guide of their conduct at their mature age, 
 and appealing to those errors as the wisdom of past 
 times, when they were the unripe fruit of imperfect 
 intellectual culture !
 
 MR. BURKE. 
 
 The contrast wliich Lord Mansfield presented to 
 another school of lawyers, led us to present, somewhat 
 out of its order, the character of Sir Vicary Gibbs as 
 representing the latter class, and from thence we were 
 conducted, by way of contrast (by the association, as it 
 were, of contrariety), to view the model of a perfect judge 
 in Sir William Grant. It is time that we now return 
 to the group of Statesmen collected round Lord North. 
 His supporters being chiefly lawyers, we were obliged to 
 make our incursion into Westminster Hall. When we 
 turn to his opponents, we emerge from the learned ob- 
 scurity of the black letter precincts to the more cheerful, 
 though not less contentious, regions of political men ; and 
 the first figure which attracts the eye is the grand form 
 of Edmund Burke. 
 
 How much soever men may differ as to the soundness 
 of Mr. Burke's doctrines, or the purity of his public 
 conduct, there can be no hesitation in accordmg to 
 him a station among the most extraordinaiy persons 
 that have ever appeared ; nor is there now any diver- 
 sity of opinion as to the place which it is fit to 
 assign him. He was a writer of the first class, and 
 excelled m almost every kind of prose composition. 
 Possessed of most extensive knowledge, and of the most 
 various description ; acquainted alike with what different 
 classes of men knew, each in his own province, and with
 
 £njirai'rd/ lifi C. B.W-ttt.tr.tt, 
 
 ©WMKE 
 
 '' >^;k^/« G^^5<feAe^/«/fei>/G^^;^^ 
 
 'j*^»^v^/^^<<«!?^//^f:iy!G:.^^.Q>-'^<!i«^/&< &>>f. ■ 
 
 t.,'iutjnul\iMipuiJ-l>vai,irtMMu>iht Liulfiau .i'tnfl^A ^aUMtUKa.
 
 MR. BURKE. 143 
 
 much that hardly any one ever thought of learning ; he 
 could either bring his masses of information to bear 
 directly upon the subjects to which they severally be- 
 longed — or he could avail himself of them generally to 
 strengthen his faculties and enlarge his views — or he 
 could turn any portion of them to account for the pur- 
 pose of illustrating his theme, or enriching his diction. 
 Hence, when he is handling any one matter, we j)erceive 
 that we are conversing with a reasoner or a teacher, to 
 whom almost every other branch of knowledge is fa- 
 miliar. His views range over all the cognate sulyects ; 
 his reasonings are derived from principles applicable to 
 other matters as well as the one in hand ; arguments 
 pour in from all sides, as well as those which start up 
 under our feet, the natural growth of the patli he is 
 leading us over ; while to throw light round our steps, 
 and either explore its darker places, or serve for our re- 
 creation, illustrations are fetched from a thousand 
 quarters ; and an imagination marvellously quick to 
 descry unthought-of resemblances, pours forth the 
 stores, which a lore yet more marvellous has gathered 
 from all ages, and nations, and arts, and tongues. We 
 are, in respect of the argument, reminded of Bacon's 
 multifarious knowledge, and the exuberance of his 
 learned fancy; while the many-lettered diction recalls 
 to mind the first of English poets, and his immortal 
 verse, rich with the spoils of all sciences and all 
 times. 
 
 The kinds of composition are various, and he excels 
 in them all, with the exception of two, the very highest, 
 given but to few, and when given, almost always pos- 
 sessed alone, — fierce, nervous, overwhelming declama- 
 tion, and close, rapid argument. Every other he uses
 
 144 MR. BURKE. 
 
 easily, abundantly, and successfully. He produced but 
 one philosophical treatise ; but no man lays down ab- 
 stract principles more soundly, or better traces their 
 application. All his works, indeed, even his contro- 
 versial, are so informed with general reflection, so va- 
 riegated with speculative discussion, that they wear 
 the air of the Lyceum as well as the Academy. His 
 narrative is excellent ; and it is impossible more lumi- 
 minously to expose the details of a complicated subject, 
 to give them more animation and interest, if dry in 
 themselves, or to make them bear, by the mere power 
 of statement, more powerfully upon the argument. In 
 description he can hardly be surpassed, at least for 
 effect ; he has all the qualities that conduce to it — ardour 
 of purpose, sometimes rising into violence — vivid, but 
 too luxuriant fancy — bold, frequently extravagant, con- 
 ception — the faculty of shedding over mere inanimate 
 scenery the light imparted by moral associations. He 
 indulges in bitter invective, mingled with poignant wit, 
 but descending often to abuse and even scurrility ; he 
 is apt moreover to carry an attack too far, as well as to 
 strain the application of a principle ; to slay the slain, 
 or, dangerously for his purpose, to mingle the reader's 
 contempt with pity. 
 
 As in the various kinds of writing, so in the different 
 styles, he had an almost universal excellence, one only 
 being deficient, the plain and unadorned. Not but that 
 he could, in unfolding a doctrine or pursuing a narra- 
 tive, write for a little with admirable simplicity and 
 propriety ; only he could not sustain this self-denial ; 
 his brilliant imagination and well -stored memory soon 
 broke thi-ough the restraint. But in all other styles, 
 passages without end occur of the highest order — epi-
 
 MR. BURKE. 145 
 
 gram — pathos — metaphor iu profusion, chequered with 
 more didactic and sober diction. Nor are his purely 
 figurative passages the finest even as figured writing ; 
 he is best when the metaphor is subdued, mixed as it 
 were with plainer matter to flavour it, and used not by 
 itself, and for its own sake, but giving point to a more 
 useful instrument, made of more ordinary material ; or 
 at the most, flung off by the heat of composition, like 
 sparks from a working engine, not fire-works for mere 
 display. Speaking of the authors of the Declaration 
 of Right, he calls them " those whose penetrating style 
 has engraved in our ordinances and in our hearts, the 
 words and spirit of that immortal law."* So, discoursing 
 of the imitations of natural magnitude by artifice and 
 skill — "A true artist should put a generous deceit on 
 the spectators, and effect the noblest designs by easy 
 methods, "t "When pleasure is over we relapse into 
 indifference, or rather we fall into a soft tranquillity, 
 which is tinged with the agreeable colour of the former 
 sensation. "J — " Every age has its own manners, and its 
 politics dependent on them ; and the same attempts will 
 not be made against a constitution fully formed and 
 matured, that were used to destroy it in the cradle, or 
 resist its growth during its infancy. "§ — "Faction will 
 make its cries resound through the nation, as if the whole 
 were in an uproar."]] In works of a serious nature, upon 
 the affairs of real life, as political discourses and orations, 
 
 * Reflections on the French Revolution, 
 t Sublime and Beautiful, II. § 10. 
 : Ibid. I. § 3. 
 
 § Thoughts on the Causes of the Present Discontents. 
 II Ibid. 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 MR. BURKE. 
 
 figurative style should hardly ever go beyond this. But 
 strict and close metaphor or siniile may be allowed, 
 provided it be most sparingly used, and never deviate 
 from the subject matter, so as to make that disappear in 
 the ornament. " The judgment is for the greater part 
 employed in throwing stumbling-blocks in the way of 
 the imagination, (says Mr. Burke,) in dissipating the 
 scenes of its enchantment, and in tj'iiig us down to the 
 disagreeable yoke of our reason."* He has here at once 
 expressed figm*atively the principle we are laying down, 
 and illustrated our remark by the temperance of his me- 
 taphors, Avhich, though mixed, do not offend, because 
 they come so near mere figiu'ative language that they 
 may be regarded, like the last set of examples, rather as 
 forms of expression than tropes. " A great deal of the 
 furniture of ancient tyranny is worn to rags ; the rest is 
 entirely out of fashion'f — a most apt illustration of 
 his important position, that we ought to be as jealous 
 of little encroaclunents, now the cliief sources of danger, 
 as our ancestors were of ' Ship Money ' and the 
 ' Forest Laws.' " A species of men, (speaking of one 
 constant and baneful effect of grievances,) to whom a 
 state of order would become a sentence of obscurity, are 
 nourished into a dangerous magnitude by the heat of 
 intestine disturbances ; and it is no wonder that, by a 
 sort of sinister piety, they cherish, in I'etm'n, those dis- 
 orders which are the parents of all their consequence.";]; 
 — " W'^e have not (he says of the English Cluirch Es- 
 tablishment) relegated religion to obscure municipalities 
 
 * Discourses on Taste. 
 
 t Thoughts on the Causes cf the Present Discontents. 
 
 t Ibid.
 
 MR. BURKE. 147 
 
 or rustic villages — No ! we will have her to exalt her 
 mitred front in courts and parliaments."* But if these 
 should seem so temperate as hardly to be separate figures, 
 the celebrated comparison of the Queen of France, though 
 going to the verge of chaste style, hardly passes it. " And 
 surely, never lighted on this orb, which, she hardly 
 seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her 
 just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the ele- 
 vated sphere she just began to move in — glittering like 
 the morning star, full of life, and splendour, and joy."f 
 All his writings, but especially his later ones, abound 
 in examples of the abuse of this style, in which, imlike 
 those we have been dwelling upon with unmixed admi- 
 ration, the subject is lost sight of, and the figure usurps 
 its place, almost as much as in Homer's longer similes, 
 and is oftentimes pursued, not merely with extravagance 
 and violence, but into details that offend by their coarse- 
 ness, as well as their forced connexion with the matter 
 in question. The comparison of a noble adversary to 
 the whale, in which the grantee of the crown is alto- 
 gether forgotten, and the fish alone remains ; of one 
 Republican ruler to a cannibal in his den, Avhere he 
 paints him as having actually devoured a king and suf- 
 fering from indigestion ; of another, to a retailer of 
 dresses, in which character the nature of constitutions is 
 forgotten in that of millinery, — are instances too well 
 known to be further dwelt upon ; and they were the 
 produce, not of the " audacity of youth," but of the last 
 years of his life. It must, however, be confessed, that he 
 was at all times somewhat apt to betray what Johnson 
 
 * Reflections on the French Revolution. t Ihid. 
 
 I. 2
 
 148 MR. BURKE. 
 
 imputes to Swift, a proneness to " revolve ideas from 
 which other minds shrink with disgust." At least he 
 must be allowed to have often mistaken violence and 
 grossness for vigour. " The anodyne draught of obli- 
 vion, thus drugged, is well calculated to preserve a gall- 
 ing wakeftdness, and to feed the living ulcer of a corrod- 
 ing memory. Thus to administer the opiate potion of 
 animosit)', powdered with all the ingredients of scorn 
 and contempt," &c.* — "They are not repelled through 
 a fastidious delicacy at the stench of their arrogance 
 and presumption, from a medicinal attention to their 
 mental blotches and running sores."-]" — " Those bodies, 
 which, when full of life and beauty, lay in their arms, 
 and were their joy and comfort, when dead and putrid, 
 became but the more loathsome from remembrance of 
 former endearments ?" J — " The vital powers, wasted 
 in an unequal struggle, are pushed back upon them- 
 selves, and fester to gangrene, to death ; and instead of 
 what was but just now the delight of the creation, there 
 win be cast out in the face of the sun, a bloated, putrid, 
 noisome carcase, full of stench and poison, an offence, a 
 horror, a lesson to the world. "§ Some passages are 
 not fit to be cited, and could not now be tolerated 
 in either house of parliament, for the indecency of 
 their allusions — as in the Regency debates, and the 
 attack upon lawj-ers on the Impeachment Continua- 
 tion. But the finest of his speeches, which we have 
 just quoted from, though it does not go so far from 
 
 * Reflections on the French Revolution. 
 
 t Ibid. 
 
 X Thoughts on the Causes of the Present Discontents. 
 
 § Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts.
 
 MR. BURKE. 149 
 
 propriety, falls not much within its bounds. Of Mr. 
 Dundas he says, " With six great chopping bastards, 
 {Reports of Secret Committee,) each as lusty as an 
 infant Hercules, this delicate creature blushes at the 
 sight of his new bridegroom, assumes a virgin delicacy ; 
 or, to use a more fit, as well as a more poetical com- 
 parison, the person so squeamish, so timid, so trembling, 
 lest the winds of heaven should visit too roughly, is 
 expanded to broad simshine, exposed like the sow of 
 imperial augury, lying in the mud with all the prodi- 
 gies of her fertility about her, as evidence of her deli- 
 cate amoiu-." 
 
 It is another characteristic of this great writer, that 
 the unlimited abundance of his stores makes him profuse 
 in their expenditure. Never content with one view of a 
 subject, or one manner of handling it, he for the most 
 part lavishes his whole resources upon the discussion of 
 each point. In controversy this is emphatically the 
 case. Indeed, nothing is more remarkable than the 
 variety of ways in which he makes his approaches 
 to any position he would master. After reconnoitring 
 it with skill and boldness, if not with perfect accuracy, 
 he manoeuvres with infinite address, and arrays a most 
 imposing force of general principles mustered from all 
 parts, and pointed, sometimes violently enough, in one 
 direction. He now moves on with the composed air, 
 the even, dignified pace of the historian ; and unfolds 
 his facts in a narrative so easy, and yet so correct, that 
 you plainly perceive he wanted only the dismissal of 
 other pursuits to have rivalled Livy or Hume. But 
 soon this advance is interrupted, and he stops to display 
 his powers of description, when the boldness of his
 
 150 MR. BURKE. 
 
 design is only matched by the brilliancy of his colour- 
 ing. He then skirmishes for a space, and puts in 
 motion all the lighter arms of wit ; sometimes not 
 vmmiugled with drollery, sometimes bordering upon 
 farce. His main battery is now opened, and a tempest 
 bursts forth, of every weapon of attack — invective, 
 abuse, ironj^, sarcasm, simile drawn out to allegory, 
 allusion, quotation, fable, parable, anathema. The 
 heavy artillery of powerful declamation, and the con- 
 flict of close argument alone are wanting ; but of this 
 the garrison is not always aware ; his noise is oftentimes 
 mistaken for the thunder of true eloquence ; the num- 
 ber of his movements distracts, and the variety of his 
 missiles annoys the adversary; a panic spreads, and 
 he carries his point, as if he had actually made a 
 practicable breach ; nor is it discovered till after the 
 smoke and confusion is over, that the citadel remains 
 untouched. 
 
 Every one of ]\Ir. Burke's works that is of any im- 
 portance, presents, though in different degrees, these 
 features to the view ; from the most chaste and tem- 
 perate, his ' Thoughts on the Discontents,' to the least 
 faultless and severe ; his richer and more ornate, as 
 well as vehement tracts upon revolutionary politics; 
 his letters on the ' Regicide Peace,' and ' Defence of 
 his Pension.' His speeches differed not at all from his 
 pamphlets; these are written speeches, or those are 
 spoken dissertations, according as any one is over- 
 studious of method and closeness in a book, or of ease 
 and nature in an oration. 
 
 The principal defects here hinted at are a serious de- 
 rogation from merit of the highest order in both kinds of
 
 MR. BURKE. 151 
 
 composition. But in his spoken eloquence, the failure 
 which it is kno^^'n attended him for a great part of his 
 Parliamentary life, is not to be explained by the mere 
 absence of what alone he wanted to equal the greatest of 
 orators. In fact, he was deficient in judgment; he re- 
 garded not the degree of interest felt by his audience in 
 the topics which deeply occupied himself ; and seldom 
 knew when he had said enough on those which affected 
 them as well as him. He was admirable in exposition ; 
 in truth, he delighted to give mstruction both when 
 speaking and conversing, and in this he was unrivalled. 
 Quis in senteutits argutior ? in aocendo edisseren- 
 doque subtilior ? Mr. Fox might well avow, without a 
 compliment, that he had learnt more from him alone 
 than from all other men and authors. But if any one 
 thing is proved by unvarying experience of popular 
 assemblies, it is, that an excellent dissertation makes a 
 poor speech. The speaker is not the only person actively 
 engaged while a great oration is pronouncing ; the 
 audience have their share ; they must be excited, and for 
 this purpose constantly appealed to as recognised per- 
 sons of the drama. The didactic orator (if, as has been 
 said of the didactic poet, this be not a contradiction in 
 terms) has it all to himself ; tlie hearer is merely 
 passive ; and the consequence is, he soon ceases to be a 
 listener, and if he can, even to be a spectator. lilr. 
 Burke was essentially didactic, except when the violence 
 of his invective carried him away, and then he offended 
 the correct taste of the House of Commons, by going 
 beyond the occasion, and by descending to coarseness.* 
 
 * The charge of coarseness, or rather of vulgarity of language, has.
 
 162 mk. burke. 
 
 When he argued, it was by unfolding large views, and 
 seizing upon analogies too remote, and drawing distinc- 
 tions " too fine for his hearers," or, at the best, by a body 
 of statements, lucid, certainly, and diversified with flower 
 and fruit, and lighted up with pleasantry, but almost 
 always in excess, and overdone in these qualities as 
 well as in its own substance. He had little power of 
 hard stringent reasoning, as has been already re- 
 marked ; and his declamation was addressed to the 
 head, as from the head it proceeded, learned, fanciful, 
 uigenious, but not impassioned. Of him, as a com- 
 batant, we may say what Aristotle did of tlie old 
 philosophers, when he compared them to unskilful 
 boxers, who hit round about, and not straight fonvard, 
 and fight with little effect, though tliey may by chance 
 sometimes deiJ a hard blow. — Oiov sv rate ij.a^atg oi 
 ayi)[xvaa-Toi Troioixri. xoli yaq sxsivoi 7rspKpspotj[jL£vot 
 ruTTToixn woXKoLytis xaXaj aXA' our' exeivot a.ir &i7i<TTr\\i.r^g. 
 — (^Metaphys.)* 
 
 to the astonishment of all who knew him, and understood pure idiom- 
 atic English, been made against Mr. Windham, but only by persons 
 unacquainted with both. To him might nearly be applied the beauti- 
 ful sketch of Crassus by M. Tullius — Quo, says he, nihil statuo 
 fieri potuisse perfectius. Erat summa gravitas, erat cum gravitate 
 junctus, facetiarum et urbanitatis oratorius, non scurrilis le])os. La- 
 tine loquendi accurata, et sine molesti^ diiigens elegantia — in disse- 
 rendo mira explicatio ; cum de jure civili, cum de aequo et bono dis- 
 putaretur argumentorum et similitudinum copia. Let not the 
 reader reject even the latter features, those certainly of an advocate ; 
 at least let him first read Mr. Windham's Speech on the Law of 
 Evidence, in the Duke of York's case. 
 
 * The Attic reader will be here reminded of the First Philippic, in 
 which a very remarkable passage, and in part too applicable to our 
 subject, seems to have been suggested by the passage in the text; and
 
 MR. BURKE. 153 
 
 Cicero has somewhere called Eloquence copiose lo- 
 quens sapientia. This may be true of written, but of 
 spoken eloquence it is a defective definition, and will, at 
 the best, only comprehend the Demonstrative (or Epi- 
 deictic) kind, which is banished, for want of an audience, 
 from all modern assemblies of a secular description. 
 Thus, though it well characterises Mr. Burke, yet the 
 defects which we have pointed out were fatal to his 
 success. Accordingly the test of eloquence, which the 
 same master has in so picturesque a manner given, 
 from his own constant experience, here entirely failed. — 
 " Volo hoc oratori contingat, ut cum auditum sit eum 
 esse dicturum, locus in subselliis occupetur, compleatur 
 tribunal, gratiosi scribse sint in dando et cedendo locum, 
 corona multiplex, judex erectus ; cum surgit is, qui 
 dicturus sit, significetur a corona silentium, deinde cre- 
 bree assensiones, multse admirationes : risus, cum velit ; 
 cum velit, fletus ; ut, qui hsec procul videat, etiamsi 
 quid agatur nesciat, at placere tamen, et in scena Ros- 
 cium intelligat." For many years, that is, between the 
 latter part of the American war, and the speeches which 
 he made, neither many nor long, nor in a very usual or 
 regular style, on the French Revolution, the very reverse 
 of all this was to be seen and lamented, as often as Mr. 
 
 its great felicity both of apt comparison and of wit, should, with many 
 other passages, have made critics pause before they denied those 
 qualities to the chief of orators. 'Slanep Ct o'l fiapjiapoi irvKTtvovaiy, 
 ovTw TToXtfXEiTE <j>iXnnr<a : Kai yap EKUvwy 6 TrXjjytie aei Tir)Q TrXTjyjjc 
 tytrai. Kav trtptoaf. naTai,% tiq, ii^ucrt uaiv a'l ^eipeg. irpo/^aX- 
 Xtadai 2", ?) pXewtiv cvavriov, our' oiStj', our' idtkei — which he proceeds 
 to illustrate by the conduct held respecting the Chersonese and Ther- 
 mopylae.
 
 154 MR. BURKE. 
 
 Burke spoke. The spectator saw no signs of Roscius 
 being in action, but rather of the eminent Civilian so 
 closely allied to ]Mr. Burke, and of whom we are here- 
 after to speak.* " Videt " (as the same critic has, 
 in another passage, almost to the letter described it) 
 " oscitantem judicem, loquentem cum altero, nonnun- 
 quam etiam circulautem, mittentem ad horas ; qusesi- 
 torem, ut diniittat, rogantem •,'\ intelligit, oratorem in ea 
 causa non adesse, qui possit animis judicum admovere 
 orationem, tanquam fidibus manum." 
 
 But it may justly be said, with the second of Attic 
 orators, that sense is always more important than elo- 
 quence ; and no one can doubt that enlightened men in all 
 ages will hang over the works of ]\Ir. Burke, and dwell 
 with delight even upon the speeches that failed to com- 
 mand the attention of those to whom they were addressed. 
 Nor is it by their rhetorical beauties that they interest us. 
 The extraordinaiy depth of his detached views, the pe- 
 netrating sagacity which he occasionally applies to the 
 affairs of men and their motives, and the curious felicity 
 of expression with wliich he unfolds principles, and 
 traces resemblances and relations, are separately the gift 
 of few, and in their union probably without any example. 
 This must be admitted on all hands ; it is possibly the 
 last of these observations which will obtain universal as- 
 sent, as it is the last we have to offer before coming upon 
 
 * Dr. Lawrence. 
 
 t This desire in the English senate is irregularly signified, by the 
 cries of ' Question,' there not being a proper quarter to appeal to, as 
 in the Roman courts.
 
 MR. BURKE. 155 
 
 disputed ground, where the fierce contentions of poli- 
 ticians cross the more quiet path of the critic. 
 
 Not content with the praise of liis philosophic acute- 
 ness, which all are ready to allow, the less temperate 
 admirers of this great writer have ascribed to him a gift 
 of genius approaching to the power of divmation, and 
 have recognised him as in possession of a judgment so 
 acute and so calm withal, that its decision might claim 
 the authority of mfallible decrees. His opinions upon 
 French affairs have been viewed as always resulting from 
 general principles deliberately applied to each emer- 
 gency ; and they have been looked upon as forming a 
 connected system of doctrines, by which his own senti- 
 ments and conduct were regulated, and from which after 
 times may derive the lessons of practical wisdom. 
 
 A consideration which at once occurs, as casting sus- 
 picion upon the soundness, if not also upon the sincerity, 
 of these encomiums, is, that they never were dreamt of 
 until the questions arose concerning the French Revolu- 
 tion ; and yet, if well founded, they were due to the for- 
 mer principles and conduct of theu- object ; for it is 
 wholly inconsistent with their tenor to admit that 
 the doctrines so extolled were the rank and sudden 
 gro\vth of the heats which the changes of 1789 had ge- 
 nerated. Their title to so nuich admiration and to our 
 implicit confidence must depend upon their being the 
 slowly matured fruit of a profound philosophy, which 
 had mvestigated and compared ; pursuing the analogies 
 of things, and tracing events to their remote origin in the 
 principles of human nature. Yet it is certain that these 
 reasoners (if reasoning can indeed be deemed their voca- 
 tion) never discovered a single merit in Rlr. Burke's
 
 156 MR. BURKE. 
 
 opinions, or anything to praise, or even to endure, in his 
 conduct, from his entrance into public life in 1765 to 
 the period of that stormy confusion of all parties and all 
 political attachments, which took place in 1791, a short 
 time before he quitted it. They are therefore placed in 
 a dilemma, from which it would puzzle subtler dialecti- 
 cians to escape. Either they or their idol have changed ; 
 either they have received a new light, or he is a changeling 
 god. They are either converts to a faith which, for so 
 many years and during so many vicissitudes, they had, 
 in their preaching and in their lives, held to be damnable ; 
 or they are believers in a heresy, lightly taken up by its 
 author, and promulgated to suit the wholly secular pur- 
 poses of some particular season. 
 
 We believe a very little examination of the facts 
 will suffice to show that the believers have been more 
 consistent than their oracle ; and that they escape from 
 the charge of fickleness at the expense of the authority 
 due to the faith last proclaimed from his altar. It 
 would, indeed, be difficult to select one leading prin- 
 ciple or prevailing sentiment in Mr. Burke's latest 
 writings, to which something extremely adverse may 
 not be found in his former, we can hardly say his 
 early works ; excepting only on the subject of Par- 
 liamentary Reform, to which, with all the friends of 
 Lord Rockingham, he was from the beginning ad- 
 verse; and in favour of which he found so very hesi- 
 tating and lukewarm a feeling among Mr. Fox's sup- 
 porters, as hardly amounted to a difference, certainly 
 offered no inducements to compromise the opinions 
 of his own party. Searching after the monuments of 
 altered principles, we will not resort to his first works.
 
 MR. BURKE. 157 
 
 in one of which he terms Damien " a late unfortunate 
 regicide," looking only at his punishment, and disre- 
 garding his offence ; neither shall we look into his 
 speeches, exceeding, as they did, the bounds which all 
 other men, even in the heat of debate, prescribe to 
 themselves, in speaking now of the first magistrate of 
 the country, while labouring under a calamitous visita- 
 tion of Providence — now of kings generally. But we 
 may fairly take as the standard of his opinions, best 
 weighed and most deUberately pronounced, the calmest 
 of all his productions, and the most fully considered, — 
 given to the world when he had long passed the middle 
 age of life, had filled a high station, and been for 
 years eminent in parliamentary history* Although, 
 in compositions of this kind, more depends upon the 
 general tone of a work than on particular passages, 
 because the temper of mind on certain points may be 
 better gathered from that, than from any expressly 
 stated propositions, yet we have but to open the book 
 to see that his Thoughts in 1770, were very different 
 from those which breathe through every page of his 
 Anti-Jacobin writings. And first of the Corinthian 
 Capital of 1790—" I am no friend" (says he in 1770) 
 " to aristocracy, in the sense at least in which that word 
 is usually understood. If it were not a bad habit to 
 moot cases on the supposed ruin of the constitution, I 
 should be free to declare, that if it must perish, I would 
 rather by far see it resolved into any other form, than 
 lost in that austere and insolent domination." {JVorks, 
 
 * The Thoughts on the Causes of the Present Discontents was puh- 
 lished in mo — when Mr. Burke was aliove 40 years old.
 
 158 MR. BURKE. 
 
 II. 246.) His comfort is derived from the considera- 
 tion, " that the generality of peers are but too apt to 
 fall into an oblivion of their proper dignity, and run 
 headlong into an abject servitude." Next of " the 
 Swinish Multitude" — " When popular discontents have 
 been very prevalent it may well be affirmed and sup- 
 ported, that there has been generally something found 
 amiss in the constitution, or in the conduct of govern- 
 ment. The people have no interest in disorder. When 
 they do wrong, it is their error, not their crime. But 
 with the governing part of the state it is far other- 
 wise ;" and he quotes the saying of Sully : " Pour la 
 populace, ce n'est jamais par envie d'attaquer qu'elle se 
 souleve, mais par impatience de souffrir." (J5. 224.) 
 Again, of the people as " having nothing to do with the 
 laws but to obey them" — " I see no other way for the 
 preservation of a decent attention to public interest in 
 the representatives, but the interposition of the body of 
 the people itself* whenever it shall appear by some 
 flagrant and notorious act, — by some capital innova- 
 tion — that these representatives are going to overleap 
 the fences of the law, and to introduce an arbitrary 
 power. This interposition is a most unpleasant remedy. 
 But if it be a legal remedy, it is intended on some oc- 
 casion to be used ; to be used then only when it is 
 evident that nothing else can hold the constitution to 
 its true principles. It is not in Parliament alone that 
 the remedy for parliamentary disorders can be com- 
 pleted ; hardly indeed can it begin there. Until a 
 confidence in government is re-established, the people 
 
 * Ital. in orie.
 
 MR. BURKE. 159 
 
 ought to be excited to a more strict and detailed atten- 
 tion to the conduct of their representatives. Standards 
 for judging more systematically upon their conduct 
 ought to be settled in the meetings of counties and 
 corporations. Frequent and correct lists of the voters 
 in all important questions ought to be procured." 
 {lb. 324.) The reasons which called for popular inter- 
 position, and made him preach it at a season of unpre- 
 cedented popular excitement, are stated to be " the 
 immense revenue, enormous debt, and mighty esta- 
 blishments ;" and he requires the House of Com- 
 mons " to bear some stamp of the actual disposition 
 of the people at large;" adding, that "it would be 
 a more natural and tolerable evil, that the House 
 should be infected with every epidemical frenzy of 
 the people, as this Avould indicate some consan- 
 guinity, some sympathy of nature with their consti- 
 tuents, than that they should in all cases be wholly 
 untouched by the opinions and feelings of the people 
 out of doors." Now let us step aside for a moment to 
 remark, that the " immense revenue" was under 10 
 millions; the " enormous debt" 130; and the " migJity 
 establishments," cost about 6 millions a-year. The 
 statesman who, on this account, recommended popular 
 interference in 1770, lived to see the revenue 24 mil- 
 lions ; the debt, 350 ; the establishment, 30 ; and the 
 ruling principle of his latter days was the all-suffici- 
 ency of Parliament and the Crown, and the fatal con- 
 sequence of according to the people the slightest share 
 of direct power in the state. 
 
 His theoretical view of the constitution in those days
 
 160 MR. BURKE. 
 
 was as different from the high monarchical tone of his 
 latter writings. The King was then " the representative 
 of the people," — " so," (he adds) " are the Lords ; so 
 are the Judges ; they are all trustees for the people, as 
 well as the Commons, because no power is given for the 
 sole sake of the holder ; and although government 
 certainly is an institution of divine authority, yet its 
 forms, and the persons who administer it, all originate 
 from the people." And then comes that immortal pas- 
 sage so often cited, and which ought to be blazoned in 
 letters of fire over the porch of the Commons House ; 
 illustrating the doctrine it sets out with, that " their re- 
 presentatives are a control for the people, and not upon 
 the people ; and that the virtue, spirit, and essence of a 
 House of Commons consists in its being the express 
 image ofthe feelings of the nation." (Ibid. 2SS.)* It may 
 be superfluous to add, that one so deeply imbued Avith 
 the soundest principles of a free constitution, must 
 
 * " A vigilant and jealous eye over executory and judicial magis- 
 tracy ; an anxious care of public money ; au openness approaching 
 towards facility, to public complaint; these seem to be the true cha- 
 racteristics of a House of Commons. But an addressing House of 
 Commons and a petitioning nation ; a House of Commons full of confi- 
 dence, when the nation is plunged in despair ; in the utmost harmony 
 with ministers whom the people regard with the utmost abhorrence ; 
 who vote thanks, when the public opinion calls upon them for im- 
 peachments; who are eager to grant, when the general voice demands 
 account; who in all disputes between the people and the adminis- 
 tration, pronounce against the people ; who punish their disorders, 
 but refuse even to inquire into the provocations to them ; this is an 
 unnatural, a monstrous state of things in the constitution. Such 
 an assembly may be a great, wise, awful senate ; hut it is not to any 
 popular purpose a House of Commons." — (76. 289.)
 
 MH. BURKE. 161 
 
 always have regarded the Bourbon rulers with singu- 
 lar dislike, while he saw in the English government the 
 natural ally of Liberty, wheresoever she was strug- 
 gling with her chains. Accordingly, in the same f;x- 
 mous work, he exclaims, " Such was the conquest oi" 
 Corsica, by the professed enemies of the freedom of 
 mankind, in defiance of those who were formerly its 
 professed defenders." {Ibid. 272.) 
 
 Although it cannot be denied that a considerable 
 portion of the deference which IMr. Burke's later and 
 more celebrated opinions are entitled to command is 
 thus taken away, and, as it were, shared by the conflict- 
 ing authority of his earlier sentiments, his disciples may, 
 nevertheless, be willing to rest his claims to a reverent, 
 if not an implicit observance upon the last, as the ma- 
 turest eiforts of his genius. Now, it appears evident that, 
 in this exti-aordinary person, the usual progress of the 
 faculties in growth and decline was in some measure 
 reversed; his fancy became more vivid, — it burnt, as it 
 were, brighter before its extinction ; while age, which 
 had only increased that light, lessened the power of 
 profiting from it, by weakening the judgment as the 
 imagination gained luxuriance and strength. Thus, his 
 old age resemliled that of other men in one particular 
 only ; he was more haunted by fears, and more easily 
 became the dupe of imposture as well as alarm. 
 
 It is quite vain now to deny, that the unfavourable 
 decision which those feelings led him to form of the 
 French Revolution, was, in the main, incorrect and 
 exaggerated. That he was right in expecting much 
 confusion and mischief from the j)assions of a whole 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 16-2 MR. BURKE. 
 
 nation let loose, and influenced only by the various 
 mobs of its capital, literary and political, in the assem- 
 blies, the club-rooms, the theatre, and the streets, no one 
 can doubt ; and his apprehensions were certainly not 
 shared by the body of his party. But beyond this 
 very scanty and not very difficult portion of his pre- 
 dictions, it would be hard to sho\\' any signal instance 
 of their fulfilment. Except in lamenting the ex- 
 cesses of the times of terror, and in admitting them 
 to form a large deduction from the estimate of the 
 benefits of the Revolution, it would be no easy matter 
 to point out a single opinion of his which any rational 
 and moderate man of the present day will avow. 
 Those who claim for Mr. Burke's doctrines in 1790 
 the praise of a sagacity and foresight hardly human, 
 would do well to recollect his speech on the Army 
 Estimates of that year. It is published by himself, 
 corrected,* and its drift is to show the uselessness of a 
 large force, because " France must now be considered 
 as expunged out of the system of Europe ;" it expresses 
 much doubt if she can ever resume her station " as a 
 leading power;" anticipates the language of the rising 
 generation — Gallos cf toque in bellis floruisse audlvimus ; 
 and decides that, at all events, her restoration to any- 
 thing like a substantive existence, must, under a repub- 
 lic, be the work of much time. Scarce two years elapsed 
 before this same France, without any change whatever 
 in her situation, except the increase of the anarchy that 
 had expunged her from the map, declared war on Aus- 
 
 Works, vol. V. \\. 1.
 
 MR. BURKE. 163 
 
 tria, and in a few months more carried her conquests so 
 much further than Louis XIV. liad done, when the firm- 
 ness and judgment of King William opposed him, that 
 Mr. Burke now said a universal league was necessary 
 to avert her universal dominion, and that it was a ques- 
 tion whether she would suffer any one throne to stand in 
 Europe. The same eulogists of Mr. Burke's sagacity 
 would also do well to recollect those yearly predictions of 
 the complete internal ruin which for so long a period 
 alternated with alarms at the foreign aggrandisement of 
 the Republic ; they all originated in his famous work — 
 though it contains some prophecies too extravagant to 
 be borrowed by his most servile imitators. Thus he 
 contends that the population of France is irreparably 
 diminished by the Revolution, and actually adopts a 
 calculation which makes the distress of Paris require 
 above two millions sterling for its yearly relief; a sum 
 sufficient to pay each family above seventeen pounds, 
 or to defray its whole expenditure in that country. 
 
 But on these grounds a further allowance is made, 
 and a new deduction introduced, from the sum total of 
 the deference paid to his authority. It is said that the 
 sagacity and penetration which we are bid to reverence 
 were never at fault, unless on points where strong feel- 
 ings interfered. The proposition must be admitted, and 
 without any qualification. But it leads not to an abate- 
 ment merely — it operates a release of the whole debt of 
 deference and respect. For one clever man's opinion 
 is just as good as another's, if both are equally uninflu- 
 enced by passions and feelings of every kind. Nor 
 must it be forgotten that on another subject as well 
 as the French Revolution Mr. Burke's prejudices 
 
 M 2
 
 161 MR. BURKE. 
 
 warped his judgment. When strongly interested 
 he was apt to regard things in false colours and 
 distorted shape. The fate of society for many years 
 hung upon Hastings's Impeachment; during that pe- 
 riod he exhausted as much vituperation upon tlie East 
 Indians in tliis country as he afterwards did on the Ja- 
 cobins ; and he was not more ready to quarrel with 
 Mr. Fox on a difference of opinion fibout France, than 
 he had been a year before to attack Mr. Erskine with 
 every weapon of personal and professional abuse, upon 
 a slighter difference about the Abating of the Impeach- 
 ment. Nay, after the Hastings question might have 
 been supposed forgotten, or merged in the more recent 
 controversy on French affairs, he deliberately enume- 
 rates among the causes of alarm at French principles, 
 the prevalence of the East India interest in England ; 
 ranks " Nabobs" with the Diplomatic Body all over 
 Europe, as naturally and incurably Jacobin; and warns 
 this country loudly and solemnly against suffering itself 
 to be overthrown by a " Bengal junto." 
 
 The like infirmity of a judgment weakened, no doubt, 
 by his temper, pursued him in his later years through the 
 whole details of the question that excited him most, 
 when France was the master topic. He is blinded to 
 the impressions on his veiy senses, not by the ' light shin- 
 ing inward,' but by the heat of his passions. He sees not 
 what all other men behold, but what he wishes to see, or 
 what his prejudices and fantasies suggest ; and having 
 once pronounced a dogma, the most astovmding contra- 
 dictions that events can give him assail his mind, and 
 even his senses, in vain. Early in 1790 he pronounced 
 France extinguished, as regarded her external force. But
 
 MR. BURKE. 165 
 
 at the end of 1793, when the second attempt to invade 
 her had ended in the utter discomfiture of the assailants, 
 when she was rioting in the successes of an oflPensive 
 war, and had armed her whole people to threaten the 
 liberties of Europe, he still sees in her situation nothing 
 but "complete ruin, without the chance of resurrection," 
 and still reckons that, when she recovers her nominal 
 existence by a restoration of the monarchy, " it will be 
 as much as all her neighbours can do, by a steady gua- 
 rantee, to keep her upon her basis."* (Works, vii. 
 185.) That he should confound aU persons, as well as 
 things, in his extravagant speculations, surprises less 
 than such delusions as this. We are little astonished at 
 finding him repeatedly class the humane and chivalrous 
 La Fayette with the monster Robespierre ; but when we 
 find him pursuing his theory, that all Atheists are 
 Jacobins, so far as to charge Hume with being a leveller, 
 and pressing the converse of the proposition so far as to 
 insinuate that Priestley was an Atheist, we pause incre- 
 dulous over the sad devastation which a disordered fancy 
 can make in the finest understanding, (vii. 58.) 
 
 That the warlike policy which lie recommended 
 asrainst France, was more consistent than the course 
 pursued by the ministry, may be admitted. The weak 
 and ruinous plan of leaving the enemy to conquer all 
 Europe, while we wasted our treasure and our blood in 
 takinp- Sugar Islands, to increase the African slave-trade, 
 and moAV down whole armies by pestilence, has been 
 oftentimes painted in strong colours, never stronger 
 
 * She had at that time 750,000 men-under-anns, without calling 
 out the second conscription.
 
 166 MR. BURKE. 
 
 than the truth ; and our arms only were successful when 
 this wretched system was abandoned. But if Mr. Burke 
 faintly and darkly arraigned this plan of operations, it 
 was on grounds so purely fanciful, and he dashed the 
 truth with such a mixture of manifest error, that he 
 unavoidably both prevented his councils from being 
 respected, and subjected his own policy to imputations 
 full as serious as those he brought against the govern- 
 ment. He highly approved of the Emigration, because 
 France was no longer in but out of France ; he insisted 
 on an invasion, for the avowed purpose of restormg 
 monarchy and punishing its enemies ; he required the 
 advanced guard of the attacking army to be composed 
 of the bands of French gentlemen, emigrants, and to be 
 accompanied by the exiled priests ; and, in order to make 
 the movement more popular, they were to be preceded 
 by the proclamation of solemn leagues among the allies, 
 never to treat with a republic that had slain its king, and 
 formal announcements that they entered the country to 
 punish as well as to i-estore. 
 
 INIr. Burke lived not to see the power of the revo- 
 lutionary government extend itself resistless in the 
 direction he had pronounced impossible, or prove harm- 
 less in the only way he deemed it formidable. The 
 downfal of that government he lived not to see thrice 
 accomplished, without one of his plans being followed. 
 Yet let us not doubt his opinions upon the restoration 
 of his favourite dynasty, had he survived its exile. With 
 all his bright genius and solid learning, his venerable 
 name would have been found at the head, or rather say 
 in advance, of the most universally and most justly con- 
 temned faction in the world. The " Ultras" would ha\e
 
 MR. BUUKE. 167 
 
 owned him for their leader, and would have admitted 
 that he went beyond them in the uncompromising con- 
 sistency of his extravagant dogmas. He wlio had 
 deemed the kind of punishments that should be meted 
 out, the most important point to settle previously, and 
 had thought it necessary, in many a long and kil^oured 
 page, to discuss this when the prospects of the Bourbons 
 were desperate (vii. 187), and to guard them by all 
 arguments against listening to plans of amnesty, would 
 have objected vehemently to every one act of the restored 
 government ; regarded the charter as an act of abdica- 
 tion ; the security of property as robbery and sacrilege ; 
 the impunity of the Jacobins, as making the monarch an 
 accessary after the flict to his brother's nmrder ; and 
 what all men of sound minds regarded as a state of 
 great improvement, blessing the country with much hap- 
 piness, freeing it from many abuses, and giving it precious 
 hopes of liberty, he would have pronounced the height 
 of misery and degradation. If such had not proved to 
 be his views, living in our times, he must have changed 
 all the opinions which he professed up to the hour of his 
 death. 
 
 Upon one subject alone could he have been found 
 ranged with the Liberal party of the present day ; he 
 always, from a very early period, and before sound prin- 
 ciples were disseminated on questions of political eco- 
 nomy, held the most enlightened opinions on all subjects 
 of mercantile policy ; and these sound opinions he re- 
 tained to the last ; here his mind seemed warped by 
 no bias, and his j)rofound understanding and habits of 
 observation kept him right. His works abound with just 
 and original reflections upon these matters, and they
 
 168 MR. BURKE. 
 
 form a striking contrast to the narrow views which, in 
 in his hitter years, he was prone to take of all that 
 touched the interests and the improvement of mankind. 
 For his whole habits of thinking seemed perverted by 
 the dread of change ; and he never reflected, except in 
 the single case of the Irisli Catholics, that the surest 
 way of bringing about a violent revolution is to resist a 
 peaceful reform. 
 
 As he dreaded all plans of amendment which sought 
 to work by perceivable agency and within a moderate 
 compass of time, so he distrusted all >vho patronized 
 them — asserting their conduct to be Avild and visionary 
 enthusiasm at the best, but generally imputing their 
 zeal to some sinister motives of personal interest : most 
 unjustly — most unphilosopliically — most unthinkingly. 
 It is the natural tendency of men connected mth the 
 upper ranks of society, and separated from the mass of 
 the community, to undervalue things which only affect 
 the rights or the interests of the people. Against this 
 leaning to which he had yielded, it becomes them to 
 struggle, and their honest devotion to the cause of 
 peaceable improvement, their virtuous labours bestowed 
 in advancing the dignity and happiness of their fellow- 
 creatures, their perils and their losses encountered in 
 defence of the rights of oppressed men, are the most 
 glorious titles to the veneration of the good and the 
 wise ; but they are titles which he would have scorn- 
 fully rejected, or covered with the tide of his indignant 
 sarcasm, whom Providence had endowed A^'ith such rare 
 parts, and originally imbued with such love of liberty, 
 tliat he seemed especially raised up as an instrument 
 for instructing and mending his kind.
 
 MR. BURKE. 169 
 
 Of Mr. Burke's genius as a writer and an orator, 
 we have now spoken at great, though not needless 
 length ; and it would not have been necessary to dwell 
 longer on the subject, but for a sketch of a very different 
 kind lately drawn by another hand, from which a more 
 accurate resemblance might have been expected. That 
 ftlr. Burke, with extraordinary powers of mind, culti- 
 vated to a wonderful degree, was a person of eccentric 
 nature ; that he was one mixture of incongruous ex- 
 tremes ; that his opinions were always found to be on 
 the outermost verge of those which could be held upon 
 any question ; that he was wholly wild and impractica- 
 ble in his views ; that he knew not what moderation or 
 modification was in any doctrine which he advanced ; 
 but was utterly extravagant in whatever judgment he 
 formed, and whatever sentiment he expressed ; — such 
 was the representation to which we have alluded, and 
 which, considering the distinguished quarter it pro- 
 ceeded from,* seems to justiiy some further remark ; 
 the rather, because we have already admitted the faults 
 to exist in one portion of his opinions, which are now 
 attempted to be affirmed respecting the whole. Without 
 being followers of Mr. Burke's political principles, or 
 indiscriminate admirers of his course as a statesman ; — 
 the capacity in which he the least shone, especially 
 during the few latter and broken years of his illustrious, 
 checkered, and care-worn life, we may yet affirm that, 
 with the exception of his writings upon the French 
 Revolution — an exception itself to be qualified and 
 restricted — it would be difficult to find any statesman of 
 
 * Lord Melbourne in the House of Lords, July, 1838.
 
 170 MK. BURKE. 
 
 any age whose opinions were more habitually marked 
 by moderation ; by a constant regard to the results of 
 actual experience, as well as the dictates of an enlarged 
 reason ; by a fixed determination always to be practical, 
 at the time he was giving scope to the most extensive 
 general views ; by a cautious and prudent abstinence 
 from all extremes, and especially from those towards 
 which the general complexion of his political prin- 
 ciples tending, he felt the more necessity for being on 
 his guard against the seduction. 
 
 This was the distinguishing feature of his policy 
 through life. A brilliant fancy and rich learning did 
 not more characterise his discourse, than this mo- 
 deration did his counsels. Imagination did not more 
 insjjire, or deep reflection inform his eloquence, than 
 a wise spirit of compromise between theory and 
 practice, — between all opposing extremes, — governed 
 his choice of measures. This was by the extremes 
 of both parties, but more especially of his own, 
 greatly complained of; they could not always compre- 
 hend it, and they could never relish it, because their 
 own understanding and information reached it not ; and 
 the selfish views of their meaner nature were th^^arted 
 by it. In his speeches, by the length at which he 
 dwelt on topics, and the vehemence of his expressions, 
 he was often deficient in judgment. But in the forma- 
 tion of his opinions no such defect could be perceived ; 
 he well and warily propounded all practical considera- 
 tions ; and although he viewed many subjects in differ- 
 ent lights at the earlier and the later periods of his 
 time, and is thus often quoted for opposite purposes by 
 reasoners on difterent sides of the great political contro-
 
 MR. BURKE. 171 
 
 versy, he himself never indulged in wild or thoughtless 
 extremes. He brought this spirit of moderation into 
 public affairs with him ; and, if we except the very end 
 of bis life, when he had ceased to live much in public, 
 it stuck by him to the last. " I pitched my Whiggism 
 low," said he, " that I might keep by it." With his 
 own followers his influence was supreme ; and over 
 such men as Dr. Lawrence, Mr. W. Elliott, and the 
 late Lord Minto, to say nothing of the Ellises, the 
 Freres and the Cannings, no man of immoderate and 
 extreme opinions ever could have retained this sway. 
 Mr. Wilberforce compares their deference for him with 
 the treatment of Ahitophel. " It was as if one meant to 
 inquire of the oracle of the Lord."* Hear again the 
 words of one who knew him well, for he had studied 
 him much, and had been engaged in strenuous contro- 
 versy against him. Speaking of the effects produced 
 by his strong opinions respecting French aff'airs. Sir 
 James Mackintosh, as justly as profoundly observed to 
 Mr. Horner — " So great is the effect of a single incon- 
 sistency with the whole course of a long and wise 
 political life, that the greatest philosopher in practice 
 whom the world ever saw, passes with the superficial 
 vulgar for a hot-brained enthusiast." Sir James 
 Mackintosh never dreamt that all the temperate wis- 
 dom of the orations upon American aff'airs — all the 
 profound and practical discretion which breathes over each 
 page of the discussion upon the " Present Discontents ' 
 — all the truly enlarged principles of retrenchment, but 
 tempered with the soundest and most rational views of 
 
 * Life of Wilbcifurce, vul. ii. p. 211.
 
 172 MR. BURKE. 
 
 each proposition's bearing upon the whole frame of our 
 complicated government, which has made the cele- 
 brated speech upon " Economical Reform" the manual 
 of every moderate and constitutional reformer — all the 
 careful I'egard for facts, as well as abstract principles, 
 the nice weighing of opposite arguments, the acute 
 perception of practical consequences, which presided 
 over his whole opinions upon commercial policy, espe- 
 cially on the questions connected with Scarcity and the 
 Corn Laws — all the mingled firmness, humanity, 
 soundness of practical judgment, and enlargement of 
 speculative views, which governed his opinions upon 
 the execution of the Criminal Law — all the spirit of 
 reform and toleration, tempered with cautious circum- 
 spection of surrounding connexions, and provident 
 foresight of possible consequences, which marked and 
 moved his wise and liberal advice upon the affairs of 
 the Irish hierarchy — that all would have been forgotten 
 in the perusal of a few violent invectives, or exag- 
 gerated sentiments, called forth by the horrors of the 
 French Revolution ; which as his unrivalled sagacity 
 had foreseen them, when the rest of his party, intoxi- 
 cated with the victory over despotism, could not even 
 look towards any consequences at all ; so he not very 
 unnaturally regarded as the end and consummation of 
 that mighty event, — mistaking the turbulence by which 
 the tempest and the flood were to clear the stream, for 
 the perennial defilement of its waters. 
 
 Nor, though we have shown the repugnance of his 
 earlier to his later opinions, must it after all be set 
 down to the account of a heated imagination and 
 an unsound judgment, that even upon the French
 
 MR. BURKE. 173 
 
 Revolution he betrayed so much violence in his 
 language, and carried his opinions to a length which 
 all men now deem extravagant ; or that he at one 
 time was so misled by the appearances of the 
 hour as to dread the effacing of France from the map 
 of Europe. We are now filling the safe and easy 
 chair of him who judges after the event, and appeals to 
 things as certainly known, which the veil of futurity 
 concealed from them that went before. Every one 
 must allow that the change which shook France to her 
 centre and fixed the gaze of mankind was an event of 
 prodigious magnitude ; and that he who was called to 
 form an opinion upon its import, and to foretell its con- 
 sequences, and to shape his counsels upon the conduct 
 to be pursued regarding it, was placed in circumstances 
 wholly new ; and had to grope his way without any 
 light whatever from the experience of past times. Mr. 
 Burke could only see mischief in it, view it on what- 
 ever side or from whatever point he would ; and he 
 regarded the consequences as pregnant with danger to 
 all other countries, as well as to the one which he saw 
 laid waste or about to be devastated by its progress. 
 That for a time he saw right, no one now can affect to 
 deny. When all else in this country could foresee 
 nothing but good to France, from the great improve- 
 ment so suddenly wrought in her institutions, he 
 plainly told them that what they were pleased with 
 viewing as the lambent flame of a fire-work was the 
 glare of a volcanic explosion which would cover France 
 and Europe with the ruins of all their institutions, and 
 fill the air with Cimmerian darkness, through the con- 
 fusion of which neither the useful light of day nor the
 
 174 MR. BURKE. 
 
 cheerina^ prospect of heaven could l)e descried. The 
 suddenness of the improvement which delighted all 
 else, to his sagacious and far-sighted eje, aided, doubt- 
 less, by the reflecting glass of past experience, and 
 strengthened by the wisdom of other days in which it 
 had been steeped, presented the very cause of distrust, 
 and foreboding, and alarm. It was because his habit 
 of mind was cautious and calculating, — not easily led 
 away by a fair outside, not apt to run into extremes, 
 given to sober reflection, and fond of correcting, by 
 practical views and by the lessons of actual observa- 
 tion, the plausible suggestions of theory, — that he 
 beheld, with doubt and apprehension, Governments 
 pulled down and set up in a day — Constitutions, the 
 slow work of centuries, taken to pieces and re-con- 
 structed like an eight-day clock. He is not without 
 materials, were he to retort the charge of easily 
 running into extremes and knowing not where to stop, 
 upon those who were instantly fascinated with the 
 work of 1789, and could not look forward to the conse- 
 quences of letting loose four-and-twenty millions of 
 people from the control under which ages of submis- 
 sion to arbitrary rule and total disuse of civil rights 
 had kept them. They are assuredly without the means 
 of demonstrating his want of reflection and foresight. 
 For nearly the whole period during which he survived 
 the connnencement of the Revolution, — for five of those 
 seven years, — all his predictions, save one momentary 
 expression, had l)een more than fulfilled : anarchy and 
 bloodshed had borne sway in France ; conquest and 
 convulsion had desolated Europe ; and even v\'hen he 
 closed his eyes upon earthly prospects, he left this por-
 
 MR. BURKE. 175 
 
 tentous meteor " with fear of change perplexing 
 nionarchs." The providence of mortals is not often 
 able to penetrate so far as this into futurity. Nor can 
 he whose mind was filled with such well-grounded 
 alarms be justly impeached of violence, and held up as 
 unsoundly given to extremes of opinion, if he be- 
 trayed an invincible repugnance to sudden revolutions 
 in the system of policy by which nations are governed, 
 and an earnest desire to see the restoration of the old 
 state of things in France, as the harbinger of repose 
 for the rest of the world. 
 
 That Mr. Burke did, however, err, and err widely 
 in the estimate which he formed of the merits of a 
 Restored Government, no one now can doubt. His 
 mistake was in comparing the old regime with the 
 anarchy of the Revolution ; to which not only the 
 monarchy of France, but the despotism of Turkey was 
 preferable. He never could get rid of the belief that 
 because the change had been effected with a violence 
 which it produced, and inevitably produced the con- 
 sequences foreseen by himself, and by him alone, 
 therefore the tree so planted must for ever prove in- 
 capable of bearing good fruit. He forgot that after 
 the violence, in its nature temporary, should subside, it 
 might be both quite impossiljle to restore the old 
 monarchy, and very possible to form a new, and 
 orderly, and profitable government upon the ruins of 
 the Republic. Above all, he had seen so much present 
 mischief Avrought to France during the convulsive 
 struggle which was not over before his death, that he 
 could not persuade himself of any possible good arising 
 to her from the mighty change she had undergone. All
 
 176 MR. BURKE. 
 
 this we now see clearly enough ; having survived Mr. 
 Burke forty years, and witnessed events which the 
 hardiest dealers in prophecies assuredly could never 
 have ventured to foretell. But we who were so blind to 
 the early consequences of the Revolution, and who 
 really did suffer ourselves to be carried away by extreme 
 opinions, deaf to all IMr. Burke's ^varnings ; we surely 
 have little right to charge him with blind violence, 
 unreflecting devotion to his fancy, and a disposition to 
 run into extremes. At one time they who opposed his 
 views were by many, perhaps by the majority of men, 
 accused of this propensity. After the events in France 
 had begun to affright the people of this country, Avhen 
 Mv. Burke's opinions were found to have been well 
 grounded, the friends of liberty would not give up their 
 fond belief that all must soon come right. At that time 
 we find Dean Rlilner writing to Mr. Wilberforce from 
 Cambridge, that " INIr. Fox's old friends there all gave 
 him up, and most of them said he was mad."* 
 
 In the imperfect estimate of this great man's cha- 
 racter and genius which we have now concluded, let it 
 not be thought that we have made any very large ex- 
 ceptions to the praise unquestionably his due. We 
 
 * Life of Wilberforce, II. p. 3. — This was written early iu the 
 year 1793, when most men thought Mr. Burke both moderate 
 and right. " There is scarce one of his (Mr. Fox's) old friends here 
 at Cambridge who is not disposed to give him up, and most say he is 
 mad. I think of him much as I always did ; I still doubt whether 
 he has bad principles, but I think it pretty plain he has none ; and I 
 suppose he is ready for whatever turns up." See, too, Lord Wellesley's 
 justly celebrated speech, two years later, on French affairs. It is re- 
 published in Mr. Martin's edition of that great statesman's Des- 
 patches.
 
 MR. BURKE. 177 
 
 have only abated claims preferred by his unheeding 
 worshippers to more than mortal endowments — worship - 
 pers who with the true fanatical spirit adore their idol 
 the more, as he proves the more unsafe guide ; and who 
 chiefly valued his peculiarities, when he happened to e rr 
 on the great question that filled the latter years of his 
 life. Enough will remain to command our admiration, 
 after it shall be admitted that he who possessed the 
 finest fancy, and the rarest knowledge, did not equally 
 excel other men in retaining his sound and calm judg- 
 ment at a season of peculiar emergency ; enough to ex- 
 cite our wonder at the degree in which he was gifted 
 with most parts of genius, though our credulity be not 
 staggered by the assertion of a miraculous union of 
 them all. We have been contemplating a great marvel 
 certainly, not gazing on a supernatural sight ; and we 
 retire from it with the belief, that if acuteness, learning, 
 imagination, so unmeasured, were never before com- 
 bined, yet have thei-e been occasionally witnessed in 
 eminent men greater powers of close reasoning and 
 fervid declamation, oftentimes a more correct taste, and 
 on the question to which his mind was last and most 
 earnestly applied, a safer judgment. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 MR. FOX. 
 
 The glory of Mr. Burke's career certainly was the 
 American war, during which he led the Opposition 
 in the House of Commons ; until, having formed a 
 successor more renowned than himself, he was succeeded 
 rather than superseded in the command of that 
 ^actorious band of the champions of freedom. This 
 disciple, as he was proud to acknowledge himself, was 
 Charles James Fox, one of the greatest statesmen, 
 and if not the greatest orator, certainly the most ac- 
 complished debater, that ever appeared upon the 
 theatre of public affairs in any age of the world. To 
 the profuse, the various learning of his master ; to his 
 exuberant fancy, to his profound and mature philoso- 
 phy, he had no pretensions. His knowledge was 
 confined to the ordinary accomplishments of an English 
 education — intimate acquaintance with the classics ; 
 the exquisite taste which that familiarity bestows ; and 
 a sufficient knowledge of history. These stores he after- 
 wards increased rather than diminished; for he continued 
 to delight in classical reading; and added a minute and 
 profound knowledge of modern languages, with a deep 
 and accurate study of our own history, and the history 
 of other modern states ; insomuch, that it may be 
 questioned, if any politician in any age ever knew so 
 thoroughly the various interests, and the exact position 
 of all the countries with which his own had dealings to 
 conduct, or relations to maintain. Beyond these solid
 
 £tuiravai bv J W Uh', 
 
 (SMAmiLES .JAMES ]F'.Q):S 

 
 MB. FOX. 179 
 
 foundations of oratory, and ample stores of political 
 information, his range did not extend. Of natural 
 science, of metaphysical philosophy, of political eco- 
 nomy, he had not even the rudiments ; and he was apt 
 to treat those matters with the neglect, if not the con- 
 tempt, which ignorance can rather account for than 
 excuse. He had come far too early into public life to 
 be well grounded in a statesman's philosophy ; like his 
 great rival, and indeed like most aristocratic politicians, 
 who were described as " rocked and dandled into 
 legislators" by one,* himself exempt from this defec- 
 tive education ; and his becoming a warm partisan at 
 the same eai-ly age, also laid the foundation of another 
 defect, the making party principle the only rule of 
 conduct, and viewing every truth of political science 
 through this distorting and discolouring medium. 
 
 But if such were the defects of his education, the 
 mighty powers of his nature often overcame them, al- 
 ways threw them into the shade. A preternatural quick- 
 ness of apprehension, tvhich enabled him to see at a 
 glance what cost other minds the labour of an investi- 
 gation, made all attainments of an ordinary kind so 
 easy, that it perhaps disinclined him to those which 
 not even his acuteness and strength of mind could 
 master without the pain of study. But he was sure as 
 well as quick ; and where the heat of passion, or the 
 prejudice of party, or certain little peculiarities of a 
 personal kind, — certain mental idiosyncrasies in which 
 he indulged, and which produced capricious fancies or 
 crotchets, — left his faculties unclouded and unstunted, 
 
 * Mr. Burke. 
 
 n2
 
 180 MR. FOX. 
 
 no man's judgment was more sound, or could more 
 safely be trusted. Then, his feelings were warm and 
 kindly ; his temper was sweet though vehement ; like 
 that of all the Fox family, his nature was generous, 
 open, manly ; above everything like dissimulation or 
 duplicity ; governed by the impulses of a great and 
 benevolent soul. This virtue, so much beyond all 
 intellectual graces, yet bestowed its accustomed influ- 
 ence upon the faculties of his understanding, and gave 
 them a reach of enlargement to which meaner natures 
 are ever strangers. It was not more certain that such 
 a mind as his should be friendly to religious toleration, 
 eager for the assertion of civil liberty, the uncompro- 
 mising enemy of craft and cruelty in all their forms, — 
 from the corruption of the Treasury and the severity of 
 the penal code, up to the oppression of our American 
 colonies and the African slave-trafiBc, — than that it 
 should be enlarged and strengthened, made powerful 
 in its grasp and consistent in its purpose, by the same 
 admirable and amiable qualities which bent it always 
 towards the right pursuit. 
 
 The great intellectual gifts of IMr. Fox, the roliust 
 structure of his faculties, naturally governed his 
 oratory, made him singularly affect argument, and led 
 him to a close grappling with every subject ; despising 
 all flights of imagination, and shunning everything col- 
 lateral or discursive. This turn of mind, too, made him 
 always careless of ornament, often negligent of accurate 
 diction. There never was a greater mistake, as has 
 already been remarked,* than the fancying a close 
 
 * Lord Chatham.
 
 MR. FOX. 181 
 
 resemblance between his eloquence and that of 
 Demosthenes ; although an excellent judge (Sir James 
 Mackintosh) fell into it, when he pronounced hina " the 
 most Demosthenean speaker since Demosthenes." That 
 he resembled his immortal predecessor in despising all 
 useless ornament, and all declamation for declamation's 
 sake, is true enough ; but it applies to every good 
 speaker as well as to those two signal ornaments of 
 ancient and modern rhetoric. That he resembled him 
 in keeping more close to the subject in hand, tlian many 
 good and even great speakers have often done, may also 
 be affirmed ; yet this is far too vague and remote a like- 
 ness to justify the proposition in question ; and it is only 
 a difference in degree, and not a specific distinction be- 
 tween him and others. That his eloquence was fervid, 
 rapid, copious, carrying along with it the minds of the 
 audience, nor suffering them to dwell upon the speaker 
 or the speech, but engrossing their whole attention, and 
 keeping it fixed on the question, is equally certain ; and is 
 the only real resemblance which the comparison affords. 
 But then the points of difference are as numerous as they 
 are important, and they strike indeed upon the most cur- 
 sory glance. The one was full of repetitions, recurring 
 again and again to the same topic, nay, to the same view 
 of it, till he had made his impression complete ; the 
 other never came back upon a ground which he had 
 utterly wasted and witliered up by the tide of fire he had 
 rolled over it. The one dwelt at length, and with many 
 words on his topics ; the other performed the whole at a 
 blow, sometimes with a word, always with the smallest 
 nundjer of words possible. The one frequently was 
 digressive, even narrative and copious in illustration ; in
 
 182 MR. FOX. 
 
 tlie other no deviation from his course was ever to be per- 
 ceived ; no disporting on the borders of his way, more 
 than any lingering upon it : but carried rapidly forward, 
 and without swerving to the right or to the left, like the 
 engines flying along a railway, and like them driving 
 everything out of sight that obstructed his resistless 
 course. In diction as well as hi thought the contrast was 
 alike remarkable. It is singular that any one should have 
 thought of likening Mr. Fox to the orator of whom the 
 great Roman critic, comparing him with Cicero, has said 
 so well and so judiciously — In illo plus euros, in hoc 
 plus uaturcB. The Greek was, of all speakers, the one 
 who most carefully prepared each sentence ; showing 
 himself as sedulous in the collocation of his words as in 
 the selection. His composition, accordingly, is a model 
 of the most artificial workmanship ; yet of an art so 
 happy in its results that itself is wholly concealed. The 
 Englishman was negligent, careless, slovenly beyond 
 most speakers ; even his most brilliant passages were 
 the inspirations of the moment; and he frequently spoke 
 for half an hour at a time, sometimes delivei'ed whole 
 speeches, Avithout being fluent for five minutes, or, ex- 
 cepting in a few sound and sensible remarks which were 
 interspersed, rewarding the hearer with a single redeem- 
 ing passage. Indeed, to the last, he never possessed, un- 
 less when much animated, any great fluency ; and proba- 
 bly despised it, as he well might, if he only regarded its 
 eflPects in making men neglect more essential qualities, — 
 when the curse of being fluent speakers, and nothing 
 else, has lallen on them and on their audience. Never- 
 vertheless, that fluency — the being able easily to express 
 his thoughts in correct words — is as essential to a speaker
 
 MR. FOX. 183 
 
 as drawing to a painter. This we cannot doubt, any 
 more than we can refuse our assent to the proposition, 
 that though merely giving pleasure is no part of an 
 orator's duty, yet he has no vocation to give his audience 
 pain ; — which any one must feel who listens to a speaker 
 delivering himself with difficulty and hesitation. 
 
 The practice of composition seems never to have been 
 familiar to Mr. Fox. His speeches show this ; perhaps 
 his writings still more ; because there, the animation of 
 the momentary excitement which often carried him on 
 in speaking had little or no play. One of his worst 
 speeches, if not his worst, is that upon Francis, Duke 
 of Bedford ; and it is known to be almost the only one 
 he had ever much prepared, and the only one he ever 
 corrected for the press. His 'History,' too, shows the 
 same want of expertness in composition. The style is 
 pure and correct ; but cold and lifeless ; it is even some- 
 what abrupt and discontinuous ; so little does it flow 
 naturally or with ease. Yet, when writing letters with- 
 out any effort, no one expressed himself more happily or 
 with more graceful facility ; and in conversation, of 
 which he only partook when the society was small and 
 intimate, he was a model of every excellence, whether 
 solid or gay, plain or refined — full of information, witty 
 and playful betimes, never ill-natured for a moment ; — 
 above all, never afraid of an argument, as so many emi- 
 nent men are wont to be ; but, on the contrary, courting 
 discussion on all subjects, perhaps without much regard 
 to their relative importance ; as if reasoning were his 
 natural element, in which his great faculties moved the 
 most freely. An admirable judge, but himself addicted 
 to reasoning upon general principles, the late Mr.
 
 184 MR. FOX. 
 
 Dumout, used to express his surprise at the love of mi- 
 nute discussion, of argumentation upon trifling sub- 
 jects, which this great man often showed. But the cause 
 was clear ; argument he must have ; and as his studies, 
 except upon historical and classical points, Lad been ex- 
 tremely confined, when matters of a political or critical 
 cast were not on the carpet, he took whatever ordinary 
 matter came uppermost, and made it the subject of dis- 
 cussion. To this circumstance may be added his play- 
 ful good-nature ; which partook, as INIr. Gibbon ob- 
 served, of the simplicity of a child ; making him little 
 fastidious and easily interested and amused. 
 
 Having premised all these qualifications, it must now 
 be added, 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 Avords 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 whither- 
 soever he might please to rush. It is ridiculous to doubt 
 that he was a far closer reasoner, a much more argu- 
 mentative speaker, than Demosthenes ; as much more so 
 as Demosthenes would perhaps have been than Fox had 
 be lived in our times, and had to address an EugUsh 
 House of Commons. For it is the kindred mistake of 
 those who fancy that the two were like each other, to 
 imagine that the Grecian's orations are long chains of 
 ratiocination, like Sir William Grant's arguments, or 
 Euclid's demonstrations. They are close to the point; 
 they are full of impressive allusions ; they abound in ex- 
 positions of the adversary's inconsistency ; they are
 
 MR. FOX. 185 
 
 loaded with bitter invective ; they never lose sight of 
 the subject ; and they never quit hold of the hearer, by 
 the striking appeals they make to his strongest feelings 
 and his favourite recollections : to the heart, or to the 
 quick and immediate sense of inconsistency, they are 
 always addressed, and find their way thither by the short- 
 est and surest road ; but to the head, to the calm and 
 sober judgment, as pieces of argumentation, tliey assu- 
 redly are not addressed. But Mr. Fox, as he went along, 
 and exposed absurdity, and made inconsistent arguments 
 clash, and laid bare shuffling or hypocrisy, and showered 
 down upon meanness, or upon cruelty, or upon oppres- 
 sion, a pitiless storm of the most fierce invective, was 
 ever forging also the long, and compacted, and massive 
 chain of pure demonstration. 
 
 Ev 2' eOiT uKUoQerif jxtyav aKfiova, kottte Se Sea/iovg 
 Appr]KTOVQ, ciXvTovg, '6<pf tjuTrtSov avOi jxevoiiV' 
 
 (Od. e.) 
 There was no weapon of argument which this great 
 orator more happily or more frequently wielded than 
 wit, — the wit which exposes to ridicule the absurdity 
 or inconsistency of an adverse argument. It has been 
 said of him, we believe by Mr. Frere,* that he was the 
 wittiest speaker of his times; and they were the times 
 of Sheridan and of Windham. This was Mr. Canning's 
 opinion, and it was also Mr. Pitt's. There was nothing- 
 more awful in Mr. Pitt's sarcasm, nothing so vexatious 
 in Mr. Canning's light and galling raillery, as the bat- 
 tering and piercing wit with which ]\lr. Fox so often 
 interrupted, but always supported, the heavy artillery of 
 his argumentative declamation. 
 
 * See Quarlcily Review for October, 1810.
 
 186 MR. FOX. 
 
 " Nonne fiiit satius, tristes Amaryllidis iras, 
 
 Atque superba pati fastidia ? Nonne, Menalcan ?" 
 
 In debate he had that ready discernment of an ad- 
 versary's weakness, and the advantage to be taken of 
 it, which isj in the vpar of words, what the coup d'veil 
 of a practised general is in the field. He was ever 
 best in reply : his opening speeches were almost always 
 unsuccessful: the one in 1805, upon the Catholic 
 Question, was a great exception ; and the previous 
 meditation upon it, after having heard Lord Grenville's 
 able opening of the same question in the House of 
 Lords, gave liim much anxiety : he felt exceedingly 
 nervous, to use the common expression. It was a 
 noble performance, instinct with sound principle ; full 
 of broad and striking views of policy ; abounding in 
 magnanimous appeals to justice ; and bold assertions of 
 right ; in one passage touching and pathetic, — the de- 
 scription of a Catholic soldier's feelings on reviewing 
 some field where he had shared the dangers of the 
 fight, yet repined to think that he could never taste 
 the glories of command. His greatest speeches were 
 those in 1791, on the Russian armament, on Parlia- 
 mentary reform in 1797, and on the renewal of the 
 war in 1803. The last he himself preferred to all the 
 others ; and it had the disadvantage, if it be not, how- 
 ever, in another sense, the advantage,* of coming after 
 the finest speech, excepting that on the slave trade, 
 ever delivered by his great antagonist. But there are 
 passages in the earlier speeches, — particularly the fierce 
 
 * To a great speaker, it is always an advantage to follow a power- 
 ful adversary. The audience is prepared for attention, nay, even 
 feels a craving for some answer.
 
 MR. FOX. 187 
 
 attack upon Lord Auckland in the Russian speech, — 
 and the impressive and vehement summary of our fail- 
 ings and our misgovernment in the Reform speech, 
 which it would be hard to match even in the speech of 
 1803. But for the inferiority of the subject, the speech 
 upon the Westminster Scrutiny in 1784 might perhaps 
 be justly placed at the head of them all. The surpasshig 
 interest of the question to the speaker himself; the 
 thorough knowledge of all its details possessed by his 
 audience, which made it sufficient to allude to matters 
 and not to state them ;* the undeniably strong grounds 
 of attack which he had against his adversary ; all con- 
 spire to make this great oration as animated and ener- 
 getic throughout, as it is perfectly felicitous both in 
 the choice of topics and the handling of them. A for- 
 tunate cry of " Order" which he early raised in the 
 very exordium, by affirming that " far from expecting 
 any indulgence, he could scarcely hope for bare justice 
 from the House," gave him occasion for dwelling on 
 this topic, and pressing it home with additional illus- 
 tration ; till the redoubled blows and repeated bursts of 
 extemporaneous declamation almost overpowered the 
 audience, while they wholly bore down all further in- 
 terruption. A similar eifect is said to have been pro- 
 duced by Mr. (now Lord) Plunket, in the L-ish 
 House of Commons, upon some one calling out to 
 take down his words. " Stop," said this consummate 
 orator, " and you shall have something more to take 
 
 * This is one main cause of the conciseness and rapidity of the 
 Greek orations ; they were all on a few simple topics thoroughly 
 known to the whole audience. Much of their difficulty comes also 
 from this source.
 
 188 MR. FOX. 
 
 down ;" and then followed in a torrent, the most 
 vehement and indignant description of the wrongs 
 which his country had sustained, and had still to 
 endure. 
 
 In most of the external qualities of oratory, IMr. Fox 
 was certainly deficient, being of an unwieldy person, 
 without any grace of action, with a voice of little com- 
 pass, and which, when pressed in the vehemence of his 
 speech, became shrill almost to a cry or squeak ; yet 
 all this was absolutely forgotten in the moment when 
 the torrent began to pour. Some of the under tones 
 of his voice were peculiarly sweet ; and there was even 
 in the shrill and piercing sounds which he uttered 
 when at the more exalted pitch, a power that thrilled 
 the heart of the hearer. His pronunciation of our 
 language was singularly beautiful, and his use of it 
 pure and chaste to severity. As he rejected, from the 
 correctness of his taste, all vicious ornaments, and was 
 most sparing, indeed, in the use of figures at all ; so, in 
 his choice of words, he justly shunned foreign idiom, or 
 words borrowed, whether from the ancient or modern 
 languages ; and affected the pure Saxon tongue, the 
 resources of which are unknown to so many who use 
 it, both in writing and in spealdng. 
 
 If from the orator we tm'n to the man, we shall find 
 much more to blame and to lament, whether his private 
 character be regarded or his public ; but for the defects 
 of the former, there are excuses to be oftered, almost 
 sufficient to remove the censure, and leave the feelmg 
 of regret entire and alone. The foolish indulgence of 
 a father, from whom he inherited his talents certauily, 
 but little princplie, put him, while yet a l)oy, in the
 
 MR. FOX. 189 
 
 possession of pecuniary resources which cannot safely be 
 trusted to more advanced stages of youth ; and the dis- 
 sipated habits of the times drew him, before the age of 
 manhood, into the whirlpool of fashionable excess. In 
 tlie comparatively correct age in which our lot is cast, it 
 would be almost as unjust to apply our more severe 
 standard to him and his associates, as it would have 
 been for the Ludlows and Hutchmsons of the seven- 
 teenth century, in writing a history of the Roman em- 
 pire, to denounce the immoralities of Julius Csesar. 
 Nor let it be forgotten, that the noble heart and sweet 
 disposition of this great man passed unscathed tlirough 
 an ordeal which, in almost eveiy other instance, is found 
 to deaden all the kindly and generous affections. A 
 life of gambling, and mtrigue, 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. 
 
 The historian of a character so attractive, the softer 
 features of which present a rare contrast to the accus- 
 tomed harshness of political men, is tempted to extend 
 the same indulgence, and ascribe the errors of the 
 statesman to the accidents of his position, or the less 
 lofty tone of principle which distinguished the earlier 
 period of his public life, while his principles of conduct 
 were forming and ripening. The great party, too, 
 which he so long led with matchless personal influence, 
 would gladly catch at such a means of defence ; but as 
 the very same measure of justice or of mercy must be 
 meted out to the public conduct of INIr. Pitt, his great 
 rival, there would be little gain to party pride by that
 
 190 MR. FOX. 
 
 •sacrifice of principle which could alone lead to such 
 unworthy concessions. It is of most dangerous ex- 
 ample, of most corrupting tendency, ever to let the 
 faults of statesmen pass uncensured ; or to treat the 
 errors or the crimes which involve the interests of mil- 
 lions with the same indulgence towards human frailty 
 which we may, in the exercise of charity, show towards 
 the more venial transgressions that only hurt an indi- 
 vidual ; most commonly only the wrong-doer himself. 
 Of Mr. Fox it must be said, that whilst his political 
 principles were formed upon the true model of the Whig 
 School, and led liim, when combined Avith his position 
 as opposing the government's warlike and oppressive 
 policy, to defend the liberty of Amei'ica, and support 
 the cause of peace both in that and the French war, 
 yet he constantly modified these principles, according 
 to his own situation and circumstances as a party 
 chief; making the ambition of the man and the in- 
 terest of his followers the governing rule of his conduct. 
 The charge is a grave one ; but unhappily the facts fully 
 bear it out. Because Lord Shelburne had gained the 
 King's ear, by an intrigue possibly, but then Lord Shel- 
 burne never had pretended to be a follower of Mr. Fox, 
 the latter formed a coalition with Lord North, whose 
 person and whose policy he had spent his \vhole life in 
 decrying ; whose misgovernment of America had been 
 the cause of nearly destroying the empire ; and whose 
 whole principles were the very reverse of his own. The 
 ground taken by this coalition on fl'liich to subvert the 
 government of Lord Shelburne and INIr. Pitt, was, their 
 having made a peace favourable to England beyond what 
 could have been expected, after the state to which Lord
 
 MR. FOX. 191 
 
 North's maladministration had reduced her ; their hav- 
 ing, among other things, given the new American States 
 too large concessions ; and their having made inadequate 
 provision for the security and indemnity of the American 
 loyalists. On such grounds they, Mr. Fox and Lord 
 North, succeeded in overturning the ministry, and took 
 their places ; which they held for a few months, when 
 the King dismissed them, amidst the all but universal 
 joy of the country ; men of all ranks, and parties, and 
 sects, joming in one feeling of disgust at the factious 
 propensities in which the unnatural alliance was begot- 
 ten ; and apprehending from it, as Mr. Wilberforce 
 remarked, " a progeny stamped with the features of botli 
 parents, the violence of the one party, and the corruption 
 of the other." This grand error raised the Tories and 
 Mr. Pitt to the power which, during their long and 
 undisturbed reign, they enjoyed, notwithstanding all 
 the unparalleled difficulties of the times, and in spite of 
 so many failures in all the military enterprises of them- 
 selves and of their foreign allies. The original quar- 
 rel with Mr. Pitt was an error proceeding from the 
 same evil source. His early but mature talents had 
 been amply displayed ; he had already gained an influ- 
 ence in Parliament and the country, partly from here- 
 ditary, partly from personal qualities, second only to 
 that of Mr. Fox ; his private character was wholly un- 
 tarnished ; his principles were the same with those of 
 the Whigs ; he had nobly fought with them the battle 
 which destroyed the North administration. Yet no 
 first-rate place could be found to offer him ; although 
 Mr. Fox had once and again declared a boundless ad- 
 miration of his genius, and an unlimited confidence in
 
 192 MR. FOX. 
 
 his character. Lord John Cavendish, of an ilhistrious 
 Whig house by birth, but himself one of the most ob- 
 scure of mankind, must needs be made Chancellor of 
 the Exchequer ; Mr. Pitt was only the son of Lord 
 Chatham, and a man of vast talents, as well as spotless 
 reputation, and he was thus not permitted, without a 
 sacrifice of personal honor, to be the ally of Mr. Fox, 
 in serving their common country. How much misery 
 and mischief might the world have been spared had the 
 Rockingham Ministry preferred Mr. Pitt to Lord John 
 Cavendish, and made the union between him and the 
 Whigs perpetual ! We shall presently see that an 
 error almost as great in itself, though in its conse- 
 quences far from being so disastrous, was afterwards 
 committed by Mr. Pitt liimself. 
 
 The interval between the American and the French 
 wars was passed by Mr. Fox in opposing whatever was 
 proposed by his antagonist ; with the single exception 
 of the measures for restoring the Stadtholder's autho- 
 rity in 1787. His hearty admiration of the French 
 Revolution is well known ; and it was wholly unquali- 
 fied by any of the profound and sagacious forebodings 
 of Mr. Burke, excited by the distrust of vast and sudden 
 changes among a people wholly unprepared ; and 
 which seems never afterwards to have been diminished 
 by the undoubted fact of a minority having obtained the 
 sway, and being compelled to make up, with the re- 
 sources of terror, for the essential want of support 
 among the people at large. The separation of his aris- 
 tocratic supporters, and the unfortunate war to which 
 it led, left him to struggle for peace and the Constitu- 
 tion, with a small but steady band of noble-minded
 
 MR. FOX. 193 
 
 associates ; and their warfare for the rights of the 
 people during the dismal period of alarm which elapsed 
 from 1723 to 1801, when the healing influence of the 
 Addington Government was applied to our national 
 wounds, cannot be too highly extolled. The Whigs 
 thus regained the confidence of the nation, which their 
 Coalition ten years before seemed to have forfeited for 
 ever. The neAv junction with the Grenville party in 
 1804 was liable to none of the same objections ; it was 
 founded on common principles ; and it both honoured 
 its authors and served the State. But when, upon Mr. 
 Pitt's death, Mr. Fox again became possessed of power, 
 we find him widely different from the leader of a hope- 
 less though high-principled Opposition to the Court of 
 George III. He consented to take office without 
 making any stipulation with the King on behalf of the 
 Catholics ; a grave neglect which afterwards subverted 
 the Whig Government ; and if it be said that this sa- 
 crifice was made to obtain the greater object of peace 
 with France, then it must be added that he was slack 
 indeed in his pursuit of that great object. He allowed 
 the odious income-tax to be nearly doubled, after being 
 driven, one by one, from the taxes proposed ; and pro- 
 posed on the very worst principles ever dreamt of by 
 financiers. He defended the unprincipled arrangement 
 for making the Lord Chief Justice of England a poli- 
 tician, by placing him in the Cabinet. He joined as 
 heartily as any one in the fervour of loyal enthusiasm 
 for the Hanoverian possessions of the Crown. On one 
 great subject his sense of right, no less than his warm 
 and humane feelings, kept him invariably true to the 
 great principles of justice as well as policy. His attach- 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 MR. FOX. 
 
 ment was unceasing, and his services invaluable to the 
 Abolition of the Slave Trade, which his last accession 
 to office certainly accelerated by several years. For this, 
 and for his support of Lord Erskine in his amendment 
 of the Law of Libel, the lasting gratitude of his country 
 and of mankind is due ; and to the memory of so great 
 and so amiable a man it is a tribute which will for 
 ever be cheerfully paid. But to appreciate the grati- 
 tude which his country owes him, we must look, not to 
 his ministerial life ; we must recur to his truly glorious 
 career as leader of the patriot band which, during the 
 almost hopeless struggle from 1793 to 1801 upheld the 
 cause of afflicted freedom. If to the genius and the 
 courage of Erskine we may justly be said to owe the 
 escape from proscription and from arbitrary power. 
 Fox stands next to him as the preserver of that sacred 
 fire of liberty which they saved to blaze forth in hap- 
 pier times. Nor could even Erskine have triumphed 
 as he did, had not the party which Fox so nobly led 
 persevered in maintaining the sacred warfare, and in 
 rallying around them whatever was left of the old 
 English spirit to resist oppression.
 
 j&i^ntriditJ.Feficeifh. 
 
 WJIlLJLiAM FiTT, 
 
 
 /^^ 
 
 Icrut:^ l\ibUf'htd br Oiarttt Jba^iu Itkiaai^ Stmt
 
 MR. PITT. 
 
 The circumstances of his celebrated antagonist's situ- 
 ation were as different from his own as could well be 
 imagined. It was not merely disparity of years by which 
 they were distinguished ; all the hereditaiy prej udices 
 under which the one appeared before the country were 
 as unfavourable, as the prepossessions derived from his 
 father's character and renown were auspicious to the 
 entrance of the other upon the theatre of public affairs. 
 The grief, indeed, was yet recent which the people had felt 
 for the loss of Lord Chatham's genius, so proudly tower- 
 ing above all party views and personal ties, so entirely 
 devoted to the cause of his principles and his patriotism 
 — when his son appeared to take his station, and contest 
 the first rank in the popular affections with the son of 
 hun whose policy and parts had been sunk into obscu- 
 rity by the superior lustre of his adversary's capacity and 
 virtues. But the young statesman's own talents and 
 conduct made good the claim which his birth announced. 
 At an age when others are but entering upon the study 
 of state affairs and the practice of debating, he came 
 forth a mature politician, a finished orator, — even, as if 
 by inspiration, an accomplished debater. His know- 
 ledge, too, was not confined to the study of the clas- 
 sics, though with these he was familiarly conversant; 
 the more severe pursuits of Cambridge had imparted to 
 
 o 2
 
 196 MR. PITT. 
 
 him some acquaintance with the stricter sciences which 
 have had their home upon the banks of the Grauta since 
 Newton made them his abode ; and with political phi- 
 losopliy he was more familiar tlian most Englishmen of 
 his own age. Having prepared himself, too, for being 
 called to the bar, and both attended on courts of justice 
 and frequented the western circuit, he had more know- 
 ledge and habits of business than can fall to the share 
 of our young patricians ; — the material out of which 
 British statesmen are for the most part fashioned by an 
 attendance upon debates in Parliament, and a study of 
 newspapers in the clubs. Happy had he not too soon 
 removed into office from the prosecution of studies 
 which his rapid success broke off never to be resumed ! 
 For the leading defect of his life, which is seen 
 through all his measures, and which not even his great 
 capacity and intense industiy could supply, was an igno- 
 rance of the principles upon which large measures are to 
 be framed, and nations to be at once guided and im- 
 proved. As soon as he entered upon official duties, his 
 time was at the mercy of eveiy one who had a claim to 
 prefer, a grievance to complain of, or a nostrum to pro- 
 pound ; nor could the hours of which the day consists 
 suffice at once to give all these their audience ; to trans- 
 act the routine business of his station ; to direct or to 
 counteract the intrigues of party ; and, at the same 
 time, to learn all that his sudden transplanting from the 
 study to the Cabinet, and from the Bar to the Senate, 
 had of necessity left unlearnt. 
 
 From hence, and from the temptation always af- 
 forded in times of difficulty to avoid as much as pos- 
 sible all unnecessary embarrassments and all risks
 
 MR. PITT. 197 
 
 not forced upon him, arose the peculiarity which marks 
 his story, and marks it in a way not less hurtful 
 to his own renown, through after ages, than unfor- 
 tunate for his country. With more power than any 
 minister ever possessed — with an Opposition which 
 rather was a help than a hindrance to him during 
 the greater part of his rule — with a friendly Court, 
 an obsequious Parliament, a confiding people — he 
 held the supreme place in tlie pul)lic councils for 
 twenty years, and, excepting the Union with Ireland, 
 which was forced upon him by a rebellion, and which 
 was both corruptly and imperfectly carried, so as to 
 produce the smallest possible benefit to either country, 
 he has not left a single measure behind him for which 
 the community, whose destinies he so long swayed, has 
 any reason to respect his memory ; while, by want of 
 firmness, he was the cause of an impolicy and extra- 
 vagance, the effects of which are yet felt, and wiU 
 oppress us beyond the life of the youngest now alive. 
 
 It is assuredly not to Mr. Pitt's sinking-fund that 
 we allude, as showing his defective political resources ; 
 that scheme, now exploded, after being gradually 
 given up by all adepts in the science of finance, was 
 for many years their favourite ; nor can he in this 
 particular be so justly charged, as he well may in all 
 the rest of his measures, with never having gone before 
 his age, and not always being upon a level with the 
 wisdom of his own times. Yet may it be confessed 
 that, his financial administration being the main feature 
 in his official history, all his other plans are allowed to 
 have been failures at the time ; and this, the only ex- 
 ception, began to be questioned before his decease and
 
 198 MR. PITT. 
 
 has long been abandoned.* Neither should we visit 
 harshly the entire change of his opinions upon the 
 great question of Reform ; albeit the question with 
 which his claims to public favour commenced, and on 
 his support of which his early popularity and power 
 were almost wholly grounded. But the force, it must 
 be admitted, of the defence urged for his conversion, 
 that the alarms raised in the most reflecting minds by 
 the French Revolution, and its cognate excitement 
 among ourselves, justified a reconsideration of the 
 opinions originally entertained upon our Parliamentary 
 system, and might induce an honest alteration of them. 
 That any such considerations could never justify him 
 in lending himself to the persecution of his former asso- 
 ciates in that cause, may be peremptorily denied ; and 
 in aid of this denial, it may be asked, what would have 
 been said of ]\Ir. AV^ilberforce, and the other aboli- 
 tionists, had they, on account of some dreadful desola- 
 tion of our colonies by negro insurrection, suddenly 
 joined in proscribing and persecuting all who, after 
 they themselves had left the cause, should continue to 
 devote their efforts to its promotion ? But the main 
 charge against ]Mr. Pitt is his having suffered himself 
 to be led away by the alarms of the court, and the zeal 
 of his new allies, the Burke and AVindham party, from 
 the ardent love of peace which he professed and un- 
 doubtedly felt, to the eager support of the war against 
 France, which might well have been avoided had he 
 but stood firm. The deplorable consequences of this 
 
 * It was Dr. Price's Plan ; and he complained that of the three 
 Schemes proposed by him, Mr. Pitt had selected the worst.
 
 MR. PITT. 199 
 
 change in his conduct are too well known : they are 
 still too sensibly felt. But are the motives of it wholly 
 free from suspicion ? Cui bono ? was the question put 
 by the Roman lawyer when the person really guilty of 
 any act was sought for. A similar question may often 
 be put, without any want of charity, when we are in 
 quest of the motives which prompted a doubtful or 
 suspicious course of action, proved by experience to 
 have been disastrous to the world. That, as the chief 
 of a party, Mr. Pitt was incalculably a gainer by the 
 event which, for a while, well-nigh annihilated the 
 Opposition to his Ministry, and left that Opposition 
 crippled as long as the war lasted, no man can doubt. 
 That independent of its breaking up the Wliig party, 
 the war gave their antagonist a constant lever where- 
 withal to move at will both parliament and people, as 
 long as the sinews of war could be obtained from the 
 resources of the country, is at least as unquestionable 
 a fact. 
 
 His conduct of the war betrayed no extent of views, 
 no commanding notions of policy. Anything more 
 commonplace can hardly be imagined. To form one 
 coalition after another in Germany, and subsidise them 
 with millions of free gift, or aid with profuse loans, 
 until all the powers in our pay were defeated in suc- 
 cession, and most of them either destroyed or converted 
 into allies of the enemy — such were all the resources 
 of his diplomatic policy. To shun any effectual con- 
 flict with the enemy, while he wasted our military force 
 in petty expeditions ; to occupy forts, and capture colo- 
 nies, which, if France prevailed in Europe, were use- 
 less acquisitions, only increasing the amount of the
 
 '200 MR. PITT. 
 
 slave trade, and carryiiig abroad our own capital, and 
 which, if France ivere beaten in Europe, would all of 
 themselves fall into our hands — such was the whole 
 scheme of his warlike policy. The operations of our 
 navy, which were undertaken as a matter of course, and 
 would have been performed, and must have led to our 
 brilliant maritime successes, whoever was the minister, 
 nay, whether or not there was any minister at all, may be 
 added to the account; but can have little or no influence 
 upon the estimate to be formed of his belligerent admi- 
 nistration. When, after a most culpable refusal to treat 
 with Napoleon in 1800, grounded on the puerile hope 
 of the newly-gotten Consular power being soon over- 
 thrown, he found it impossible any longer to continue 
 the ruinous expenditure of the war, he retired, placing 
 in his office his puppet, with whom he quarrelled for 
 refusing to retire when he was bidden. But the osten- 
 sible ground of his resignation was the King's bigoted 
 refusal to emancipate the Irish catholics. Nothing 
 could have more redounded to his glory than this. But 
 he resumed office in 1804, refused to make any stipu- 
 lation for those same catholics, and always opposed 
 those Avho urged their claims, on the utterly unconsti- 
 tutional ground of the king's personal prejudices ; a 
 ground quite as solid for yielding to that monarch in 
 1801, as for not urging him in 1804. It was quite as 
 discreditable to him that, on the same occasion, after 
 pressing Mr. Fox upon George III. as an accession of 
 strength necessary for well carrying on the war, he 
 agreed to take office without any such accession, rather 
 than thwart the personal antipathy, the capricious, the 
 despicable antipathy of that narro\A-minded and vin-
 
 MR. PITT. 201 
 
 ilictive pi-ince against the most illustrious of his sub- 
 jects.* 
 
 These are heavy charges ; but we fear the worst 
 remains to be urged against the conduct of this eminent 
 person. No man felt more strongly on the subject of 
 the African Slave Trade than he ; and all who heard 
 him are agreed that his speeches against it were the 
 finest of his noble orations. Yet did he continue for 
 eighteen years of his life, suffering every one of his 
 colleagues, nay, of his mere underlings in office, to vote 
 against the question of Abolition, if they thought fit ; 
 men, the least inconsiderable of whom durst no more 
 have thwarted him upon any of the more trifling mea- 
 sures of his government, than they durst have thrust 
 their heads into the fire. Even the foreign slave trade, 
 and the traffic which his war policy had trebled by the 
 captured enemy's colonies, he suffered to grow and pros- 
 per under the fostering influence of British capital ; 
 and after letting years and years glide away, and hun- 
 dreds of thousands be torn from their own country, and 
 
 * It is a singular instance of the great effects of trivial circum- 
 stances that the following anecdote has heen preserved : — During the 
 co-operation of all parties against Mr. Addington's Government in the 
 spring of 1804, Mr. Pitt and Mr. C. Long were one night passing 
 the door of Brooks's Club-house, on their way from the House of 
 Commons, when Mr. Pitt, who had not been there since the Coalition 
 of 1184, said he had a great mind to go in and sup. His wary 
 friend said, " I think you had better not," and turned aside the 
 well-conceived intention. When we reflect on the high favour Mr. 
 Pitt then was in with the Whigs, and consider the nature of Mr. 
 Fox as well as his own, we can have little doubt of the cordial 
 friendship which such a night would have cemented, and that the 
 union of the two parties would have been complete.
 
 20'2 MR. PITT. 
 
 carried to perpetual misery in ours, while one stroke of 
 his pen could, at any moment, have stopped it for ever, he 
 only could be brought to issue, a feve months before 
 his death, the Order in Council which at length de- 
 stroyed the pestilence. This is by far the gravest 
 charge to which Mr. Pitt's memoiy is exposed. 
 
 If from the statesman we turn to the orator, the 
 contrast is indeed marvellous. He is to be placed, with- 
 out any doubt, in the highest class. With a sparing use 
 of ornament, heu'dly indulging more in figures, or even 
 in figurative expression, than the most severe examples 
 of ancient chasteness allowed — with little variety of style, 
 hardly any of the graces of manner — he no sooner rose 
 than he carried away every hearer, and kept the attention 
 fixed and unflagging till it pleased hun to let it go; 
 and then 
 
 " So charming left his voice, that we, awhile, 
 
 Still thought him speaking, still stood fix'd to hear." 
 
 This magical effect was produced by his unbroken flow, 
 which never for a moment left; the hearer in pain or 
 doubt, and yet was not the mean fluency of mere relax- 
 ation, requiring no effort of the speaker, but imposing 
 on the listener a heavy task ; by his lucid arrange- 
 ment, which made all parts of the most complicated 
 subject quit their entanglement, and fall each into its 
 place ; by the clearness of his statements, ^vhich pre- 
 sented at once a picture to the mind ; by the forcible 
 appeals to strict reason and strong feeling, which 
 formed the great staple of the discourse ; by the ma- 
 jesty of the diction ; by the depth and fulness of the 
 most sonorous voice, and the unbending dignity of the
 
 MR. PITT. 203 
 
 manner, which ever reminded us that we were in the 
 presence of more than an advocate or debater, that 
 there stood before us a ruler of the people. Such were 
 the effects invariably of this singular eloquence ; and 
 they were as certainly produced on ordinary occasions, 
 as in those grander displays when he rose to the height 
 of some great argument ; or indidged in vehement 
 invective against some individual, and variegated his 
 speech with that sarcasm of which he was so great, 
 and indeed so little sparing a master ; although even 
 here all was uniform and consistent ; nor did any thing, 
 in any mood of mind, ever drop from him that was 
 unsuited to the majestic frame of the whole, or could 
 disturb the serenity of the full and copious flood that 
 rolled along. 
 
 But if such was the unfailing impression at first 
 produced, and which, for a season absorbing the fa- 
 culties, precluded all criticism ; upon reflection, faults 
 and imperfections certainly were disclosed. There 
 prevailed a monotony in the matter, as well as in the 
 manner ; and even the delightful voice which so long 
 prevented this from being felt, was itself almost with- 
 out any variety of tone. All things were said nearly 
 in the same way ; as if by some curious machine, 
 periods were rounded and flung off ; as if, in like 
 moulds, though of different sizes, ideas were shaped 
 and brought out. His composition was correct enough, 
 but not peculiarly felicitous ; his English was suf- 
 ficiently pure without being at all racy, or various, or 
 brilliant ; his style was, by Rlr. Windham, called " a 
 state-paper style," in allusion to its combined dignity and 
 poverty ; and the same nice observer, referring to the
 
 204 MR. PITT. 
 
 eminently skilful way in which he balanced his phrases, 
 sailed near the wind, and seemed to disclose much 
 wliilst he kept the greater part of his meaning to liim- 
 self, declared that he " verily believed IMr. Pitt could 
 speak a King's speech off-hand." His declamation was 
 admirable, mingling with and clotliing the argument, as 
 to be good for any tiling it always must ; and no more 
 separable from the reasoning than the heat is from the 
 metal in a stream of lava. Yet, with all tliis excellence, 
 the last effect of the highest eloquence was for the most 
 part wanting; we seldom forgot the speaker, or lost 
 the artist in the work. He was earnest enough ; he 
 seemed quite smcere ; he was moved himself as he 
 would move us ; we even went along with liim, and for- 
 got ourselves ; but we hardly forgot him ; and while 
 thrilled mth the glow which his burning words diffused, 
 or transfixed wi\h wonder at so marvellous a display of 
 skill, we yet felt that it was admiration of a consummate 
 artist which filled us, and that after all we were present 
 at an exhibition ; gazing upon a wonderful performer 
 indeed, but still a perfonner. 
 
 We have ventured to name the greatest displays of 
 Mr. Fox's oratoiy ; and it is fit we should attempt as 
 much by his illustrious rival's. The speech on the war, 
 in 1803, which, by an accident that befell the galleiy, was 
 never reported, is generally supposed to have excelled all 
 his other performances in vehement and spu-it-stirring 
 declamation ; and this may be the more easily believed 
 when we know that Mr. Fox, in liis reply, said, " The 
 orators of antiquity would have admired, probably would 
 have en\'ied it." The last half hour is described as 
 having been one unbroken torrent of the most majestic
 
 MR. PITT. 205 
 
 declamation. Of those which are in any degree pre- 
 served (though it must l^e remarked that the character- 
 istics now given of his eloquence show how much 
 of it was sure to escape even the fullest transcript that 
 could be given of the words), the finest in all proba- 
 bility is that upon the peace of 1783, and the Coali- 
 tion, when he closed his magnificent peroration by that 
 noble yet simple figure, " And if this inauspicious union 
 l)e not already consummated, in the name of my countiy 
 I forbid the banns." But all authorities agree in placing 
 his speech on the Slave Trade, in 1791, before any other 
 effort of his genius ; because it combined, with the most 
 impassioned declamation, the deepest pathos, the most 
 lively hnagination, and the closest reasoning. We have 
 it from a friend of his own, who sat beside him on this 
 memorable occasion, that its effects on Mr. Fox were 
 manifest during the whole period of the delivery, while 
 Mr. Sheridan expressed his feelings in the most hearty 
 and even passionate terms ; and we have it from Mr. 
 Windham that he walked home lost in amazement at the 
 compass, till then unknown to him, of human eloquence. 
 It is from the former source of information that we 
 derive the singular fact of the orator's health at the time 
 being such, as to require his retirement immediately 
 before he rose, in order to take a medicine requii-ed for 
 allaying the violent irritation of his stomach. 
 
 Let it, however, be added, that he was from the first a 
 finished debater, although certainly practice and the 
 habit of command had given him more perfect quick- 
 ness in perceiving an advantage and availing himself of 
 an opening, as it were, in the adverse battle, with the 
 skill and the rapidity wherewith our Wellington, in an
 
 206 i^iR- PITT. 
 
 instant perceiving the columns of Maniiont somewhat 
 too mdely separated, executed the movement that gave 
 hhn the \ictory of Salamanca. So did IMr. Pitt over- 
 throw liis great antagonist on the Regency, and in some 
 other conflicts. It may he further observed, that never 
 was any kind of eloquence, or any cast of talents 
 more perfectly suited to the position of leading the 
 Government forces, keeping up the spirits of his fol- 
 lowers under disaster, encouraging them to stand a 
 galling adverse fire, above all, presenting them and the 
 friendly thouo;h neutral portion of the audience, with 
 reasons or ^^ith plausible pretexts for giving the Govern- 
 ment that support which the one class desired to give, 
 and the other had no disposition to withhold. The 
 effects wliich his calm and dignified, yet earnest, manner 
 produced on these classes, and the impression which it 
 left on their minds, have been admiral^ly portrayed by 
 one of the most able among them, and with his well- 
 chosen words this imperfect sketch of so great a subject 
 may be closed : — " Every part of his speaking, in senti- 
 ment, in language, and in deliveiy, endently bore the 
 stamp of his character. All communicated a definite 
 and varied apprehension of the qualities of strenuousness 
 without bustle, unlaboured intrepidity, and severe great- 
 ness."* 
 
 Nothing that we have yet said of this extraordinary 
 person has touched upon his private character, unless 
 so far as the graver faults of the politician must ever 
 border upon the vices or the frailties of the man. But 
 
 * Quarterly Review, August, 1810. — Supposed to be by Mr. J. H. 
 Frere, but avowedly by an intimate personal friend.
 
 MR. PITT. 207 
 
 it must be admitted, what even his enemies were 
 willing to confess, that in his failings, or in his delin- 
 quencies, there was nothing mean, paltiy, or low. His 
 failings were ascribed to love of power and of glory ; 
 and pride was the harshest feature that disfigured him 
 to the public eye. We doubt if this can all be said with 
 perfect justice ; still more that if it could, any satisfac- 
 tory defence would thus be made. The ambition can- 
 not be pronounced very lofty which showed that place, 
 mere high station, was so dear to it as to be sought 
 without regard to its just concomitant, power, and 
 clung by, after being stript of this, the only attri- 
 bute that can recommend it to noble minds. Yet 
 he well described his office as " the pride of his 
 heart and the pleasure of his life," when boasting that 
 he had sacrificed it to his engagements with Ireland at 
 the Union ; and then, within a very short period, he 
 proved that the pleasure and the pride were far too 
 dearly loved to let him think of that tie when he again 
 grasped them, wholly crippled, and deprived of all 
 power to carry a single measure of importance. Nor 
 can any thirst for power itself, any ambition, be it of 
 the most exalted kind, ever justify the measures which 
 he contrived for putting to death those former coad- 
 jutors of his own, whose leading object was reform ; 
 even if they had overstepped the bounds of law, in the 
 pursuit of their common purpose. His conduct on the 
 slave trade falls within the same view ; and leaves a 
 dark shade resting upon his reputation as a man — a 
 shade which, God be praised, few would take, to be the 
 first of orators and greatest of ministers. 
 
 In private life he was singularly amiable ; his spirits
 
 208 MR. PITT. 
 
 were naturally buoyant and even playful ; his affections 
 warm ; his veracity scrupulously exact ; his integrity 
 wholly without a stain ; and, although he was, from his 
 situation, cut oif from most of the relations of domestic 
 life, as a son and a brother he was perfect, and no 
 man was more fondly beloved or more sincerely mourned 
 by his friends.* 
 
 It was a circumstance broadly distinguishing the 
 parliamentary position of the two great leaders whom 
 we have been surveying, that while the one had to fight 
 the whole battle of his government for many years, the 
 first and most arduous of his life, if not single handed, 
 yet with but one coadjutor of any power, the other was 
 surrounded by "troops of friends," any one of whom 
 might well have borne the foremost part. Against 
 such men as Burke, Windham, Sheridan, North, 
 Erskine, Lee, Barre, — Mr. Pitt could only set Mr. 
 Dundas ; and it is certainly the most astonishing part 
 of his history, that against such a phalanx, backed by 
 the majority of the Commons, he could struggle all 
 through the first session of his administration. Indeed, 
 
 * The story told of his refusing to marry Mademoiselle Necker 
 (afterwards Madame de Stael), when the match was proposed by 
 the father, rests upon a true foundation ; but the form of the answer, 
 ' That he was already married to his countrv,' has, unless it was a 
 jest, which is very possible, no more foundation than the dramatic 
 exit described by Mr. Rose in the House of Commons, when he 
 stated " Oh my country," to have been his last words — though it is 
 certain that, for many hours, he only uttered incoherent sentences. 
 Such things were too theatrical for so great a man, and of too vulgar 
 a caste for so consummate a performer had he stooped to play a part 
 in such circumstances.
 
 MR. PITT. 209 
 
 had it not been for the support which he received both 
 from the Court and the Lords, and from the People, 
 who were justly offended with the unnatural coalition 
 of his adversaries, this session would not only have 
 been marvellous but impossible. 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 MR. SHERIDAN. 
 
 Of Mr. Fox's adherents who have just been named, the 
 most remarkable certainly was Mr. Sheridan, and with 
 all his faults, and all his failings, and all his defects, 
 the first in genius and greatest in power, ^^'^hen the 
 illustrious name of Erskine appears in the bright cata- 
 logue, it is unnecessary to add that we here speak of 
 parliamentary genius and political power. 
 
 These sketches as naturally begin with a notice of 
 the means by which the great rhetorical combatants 
 were brought up, and trained and armed for the con- 
 flict, as Homer's battles do with the buckling on of 
 armour and other note of preparation, when he brings 
 his warriors forward upon the scene. Of Mr. Sheridan, 
 any more than of Mr. Burke, it cannot be lamented, as 
 of almost all other English statesmen, that he came 
 prematurely into public life, without time given for 
 preparation by study. Yet this time in his case had 
 been far otherwise spent than in Mr. Burke's. Though 
 his education had not been neglected, for he was bred 
 at Harrow, and with Dr. Parr, yet he was an idle and 
 a listless boy, learning as little as possible, and suffering 
 as much wretchedness ; an avowal which to the end of 
 his life he never ceased to make, and to make in a very 
 affecting manner. Accordingly, he brought away from 
 school a \ery slender provision of classical learning ; and 
 his taste, never correct or chaste, Mas wholly formed by 
 acquaintance with the English poets and dramatists, and
 
 MR. SHERIDAN. 211 
 
 perhaps a few of our more ordinary prose-writers ; for 
 in no other language could he read with anything ap- 
 proaching to ease. Of those poets, he most professed 
 to admire and to have studied Dryden ; he plainly had 
 most studied Pope, whom he always vilified and always 
 imitated. But of dramatists his passion evidently was 
 Congreve, and after him Vanburgh, Farquhar, even 
 Wycherly ; all of whom served for the model, pai-tly 
 even for the magazine of his own dramatic writings, as 
 Pope did of liis verses. ' The Duenna,' however, is 
 formed after the fashion of Gay ; of whom it faUs fur- 
 ther short than the ' School for Scandal ' does of Con- 
 greve. That his plays were great productions for any 
 age, astonishing for a youth of twenty-three and tsventy- 
 five, is unquestionable. Johnson has accounted for the 
 phenomenon of Congreve, at a still earlier period of life, 
 showing much knowledge of the world, l)y observing 
 that, on a close examination, his dialogues and charac- 
 ters might have been gathered from books ' without 
 much actual commerce with mankind.' The same can 
 hardly be said of the ' School for Scandal ;' but the 
 author wrote it when he was five years older than Con- 
 greve had been at the date of the ' Old Bachelor.' 
 
 Thus with an ample share of literary and dramatic 
 reputation, but not certainly of the kind most auspicious 
 for a statesman ; with a most slender provision of know- 
 ledge at all likely to be useful in political affairs ; with 
 a position by birth and profession little suited to com- 
 mand the respect of the most aristocratic country in 
 Europe — the son of an actor, the manager liimself of a 
 theatre — he came into that parliament which was en- 
 lightened l>y the vast and various knowledge, as well as 
 
 p2
 
 212 MR. SHERIDAN. 
 
 fortified and adorned by the more choice literary fame 
 of a Burke, and which owned the sway of consummate 
 orators like Fox and Pitt. His first effort was unam- 
 bitious, and it was unsuccessful. Aiming at but a low 
 flight, he failed in that humble attempt. An experi- 
 enced judge, "\A'^oodfall, told him " It would never do ;" 
 and counselled him to seek again the more congenial 
 atmosphere of Drury-lane. But he was resolved that 
 it should do ; he had taken his part ; and, as he felt the 
 matter was in him, he vowed not to desist till " he had 
 brought it out." What he wanted in acquired learning, 
 and in natural quickness, he made up by indefatigable 
 industry: within given limits, towards a present object, 
 no labour could daimt him ; no man could work for 
 a season vi-ith more steady and unwearied application. 
 By constant practice in small matters, or before private 
 connnittees, by diligent attendance upon all deliates, by 
 habitual intercourse with all dealers in political wares, 
 from the chiefs of parties and their more refined coteries 
 to the providers of daily discussion for the public and 
 the chroniclers of parliamentary speeches, he trained him- 
 self to a facility of speaking, absolutely essential to all 
 but first-rate genius, and all but necessary even to that ; 
 and he acquired what acquaintance with the science of 
 politics he ever possessed, or his speeches ever betrayed. 
 By these steps he rose to the rank of a first-rate speaker, 
 and as great a debater as a want of readiness and need 
 for preparation would permit. 
 
 He had some qualities which led him to this rank, 
 and which only required the habit of speech to bring 
 them out into successful exhibition ; a warm ima- 
 gination, though more prone to repeat with varia-
 
 MR. SHERIDAN. 213 
 
 tions the combinations of others, or to combine anew 
 their creations, than to bring forth original produc- 
 tions ; a fierce, dauntless spirit of attack ; a familiarity, 
 acquired from his dramatic studies, with the feelings of 
 the heart and the ways to touch its chords ; a facility 
 of epigram and point, the yet more direct gift of the 
 same theatrical apprenticeship ; an excellent maimer, 
 not unconnected with that experience ; and a depth of 
 voice which perfectly suited the tone of his declama- 
 tion, be it invective, or be it descriptive, or be it im- 
 passioned. His wit, derived from the same source, or 
 sharpened by the same previous habits, was eminently 
 brilliant, and almost always successful ; it was like all 
 his speaking, exceedingly prepared, but it was skilfully 
 introduced and happily applied ; and it was well min- 
 gled also with humour, occasionally descending to farce. 
 How little it was the inspiration of the moment all men 
 were aware Avho knew his lial)its ; but a singular proof 
 of this was presented Ijy Mr. Moore when he came to 
 write his life ; for we there find given to the world, 
 with a frankness which must ahiiost have made their 
 author shake in his grave, the secret note-books of this 
 famous wit ; and are tlius enabled to trace the jokes, in 
 embryo, with which he had so often made the walls of 
 St. Stephen's shake, in a merriment excited by the 
 happy appearance of sudden unpremeditated effusion.* 
 
 * Take an instance from this author, giving extracts from the 
 Common-place book of the wit : — " He employs his fancy in his nar- 
 rative, and keeps his recollections for his wit." Again, the same 
 idea is expanded into — " When he makes his jokes you applaud the 
 accuracy of his memory, and 'tis only when he states his facts that 
 you admire the flights of his imagination." But the thought was
 
 214 MR. SHERIDAN. 
 
 The adroitness with which he turned to account sud- 
 den occasions of popular excitement, and often at the 
 expense of the Whig party, generally too indifferent to 
 such advantages, and too insensible to the damage they 
 thus sustained in public estimation, is well known. On 
 the mutiny in the fleet, he was beyond all question 
 ri^ht ; on the French invasion, and on the attacks 
 upon Napoleon, he was almost as certainly wrong ; but 
 these appeals to the people and to the national feelings 
 of the House, tended to make the orator well received, if 
 they added little to the statesman's reputation ; and of 
 the latter character he was not ambitious. His most 
 celebrated speech was certainly the one upon the " Be- 
 gum Charge" m the proceedings against Hastings; and 
 nothing can exceed the accounts left us of its unprece- 
 dented success. Not only the practice then first began, 
 which has gradually increased till it greets eveiy good 
 speech, of cheering, on tlie speaker resimiing liis seat, 
 but the minister besouglit the House to adjourn the 
 decision of the question, as being incapacitated from 
 forming a just judgment imder the influence of such 
 powerful eloquence ; whWe all men on all sides vied 
 with each other in extolling so wonderful a perfomiance. 
 Nevertheless, the opinion has now become greatly preva- 
 
 too good to be tlius wasted on the desert air of a common-place book. 
 So forth it came at the expense of Kelly, who, having been a com- 
 poser of music, became a wine merchant. " You will," said the ready 
 wit, " import your music and compose your wine." Nor was this ser- 
 vice exacted from the old idea thought sufiBcient— so in the House of 
 Commons an easy and apparently off-hand parenthesis was thus 
 filled with it at Mr. Dundas's cost and charge " (who generally resorts 
 to his memory for his jokes, and to his imagination for his facts)."
 
 MR. SHERIDAN. 215 
 
 lent, that a portion of this success was owing to the 
 speech having so greatly surpassed all the speaker's 
 former efforts ; to the extreme interest of the topics 
 which the subject naturally presented ; and to the artist- 
 like elaboration and beautiful delivery of certam fine 
 passages, rather than to the merits of the whole. Cer- 
 tain it is, that the repetition of great part of it, pre- 
 sented in the short-hand notes of the speech on the 
 same charge in Westminster Hall, disappoints every 
 reader who has heard of the success which attended the 
 earlier effort. In truth, Mv. Sheridan's taste was very 
 far from being chaste, or even moderately correct ; he 
 delighted in gaudy figures ; he was attracted by glare ; 
 and cared not whether the brilliancy came from tin- 
 sel or gold, from broken glass or pure diamond ; he 
 overlaid his thoughts with epigrammatic diction ; he 
 " played to the galleries," and indulged them, of course, 
 with an endless succession of clap-traps. His worst 
 passages by far were those which he evidently preferred 
 liimself; — full of imagery often far-fetched, oftener 
 gorgeous, and loaded with point that drew the attention 
 of the hearer away from the thouglits to tlie words ; and 
 Ids best by far were those where he declaimed, mth his 
 deep clear voice, though somewhat thick utterance, with 
 a fierce defiance of some adversary, or an unappeasable 
 vengeance against some oppressive act ; or reasoned 
 rapidly, in the like tone, upon some plain matter of fact, 
 or exposed as plainly to homely ridicule some puerile 
 sophism ; and in all this, his admirable manner was 
 aided by an eye singularly piercing,* and a countenance 
 
 * It had the singularity of never winking.
 
 216 SIR. SHERIDAN. 
 
 wliich, though coarse, and even in some features gross, 
 was yet animated and expressive, and could easily 
 assume the figure of both rage, and menace, and scorn. 
 The few sentences with which he thi-illed the House on 
 the liberty of the press in 1810 were wortli, perhaps, 
 more than all his elal.)orated epigrams and forced 
 flowers on the Begum Charge, or all his denunciations 
 of Napoleon ; " whose morning orisons and evening 
 pi-ayers are for the conquest of England, whether he 
 bends to the God of Battles or worships the Goddess 
 of Reason ;"* certainly far better than such pictures of 
 his power, as his having " tlu'ones for Ids watch-towers, 
 kings for liis sentinels, and for the palisades of his 
 castle, sceptres stuck with crowns.'t " Give them," 
 said he in 1810, and in a far higher strain of eloquence, 
 " a corrupt House of Lords ; give them a venal House 
 of Conunons ; give them a tyrannical Prince ; give 
 them a truckling Court,— and let me but have an unfet- 
 tered press ; I will defy them to encroach a hair's- 
 breadth upon the liberties of England."! Of all his 
 speeches there can be little doubt that the most power- 
 fill, as the most chaste, was his reply, in 180-5, upon the 
 motion which he had made for repealuig the Defence 
 Act. Mr. Pitt had unwarily thrown out a sneer at his 
 support of Rlr. Addington, as though it was insidious. 
 Such a stone, cast by a person whose house on tbat 
 aspect was one pane of glass, could not fail to call down 
 a shower of missUes ; and they who witnessed the looks 
 and gestures of the aggressor imder the pitiless pelting 
 of the tempest wliich he had provoked, represent it as 
 
 * 1802. t ISOT- I ISIO.
 
 MR. SHERIDAN. 217 
 
 certain that there were moments when he intended to 
 fasten a personal quai-rel upon the vehement and im- 
 placable declaimer.* 
 
 When the just tribute of extraordinary admiration 
 has been bestowed upon this great orator, the whole of 
 his praise has been exhausted. As a statesman, he is 
 without a place in any class, or of any rank ; it would 
 be Incorrect and flattering to call him a bad, or a hurt- 
 ful, or a short-sighted, or a middling statesman ; he was 
 no statesman at all. As a party man, his character stood 
 lower than it deserved, chiefly from certain personal dis- 
 likes towards him ; for, with the perhaps doubtful excep- 
 tion of his courting popularity at his party's expense on 
 the two occasions already mentioned, and the much more 
 serious charge against him of Ijetraying his party in the 
 CarltonHouse negotiation of 1812, followed by his extra- 
 ordinary denial of the facts when he last appeared in Par- 
 liament, there can nothing be laid to his charge as in- 
 consistent with the rules of the strictest party duty and 
 honour; although he made as large sacrifices as any 
 unprofessional man ever did to the cause of a long and 
 hopeless Opposition, and was often treated with unme- 
 rited coldness and disrespect by his coadjutors. But as 
 a man, liis character stood confessedly low ; his intem- 
 perate habits, and his pecuniary embarrassments, did not 
 merely tend to imprudent conduct, by which himself 
 alone might be the sufferer ; they involved his family 
 in the same fate ; and they also undermined those prin- 
 ciples of honesty which are so seldom found to survive 
 
 * Mr. Sheridan wrote this speech during the debate at a Coffee- 
 house near the Hall; and it is reported most accurately in the Par- 
 liamentary debates, apparentlj' from his own notes.
 
 218 MR. SHERIDAN. 
 
 fallen fortunes, and hardly ever can continue the orna- 
 ment and the stay of ruined circumstances, when the 
 tastes and the propensities engendered in prosperous 
 times survive through the ungenial season of adversity. 
 Over the frailties and even the faults of genius, it is per- 
 mitted to draw a veil, after marking them as much as 
 the interests of virtue require, in order to warn against 
 the evil example, and presei-ve the sacred flame bright 
 and pure from such unworthy and unseemly conta- 
 mination.
 
 MR. WINDHAM. 
 
 Among the members of his party, to whom we have 
 alluded as agreemg ill with Mr. Sheridan, and treating 
 him wth little deference, Mr. Windham was the most 
 distinguished. The advantages of a refined classical 
 education, a lively wit of the most pungent and yet ab- 
 struse 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 prin- 
 ciple, a chivalrous spirit, a noble figure, a singularly 
 expressive countenance — all fitted this remarkable per- 
 son 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 exceed- 
 ingly impaired the impression of his oratory, while they 
 diminished his usefulness and injured his reputation as 
 a statesman. For he was too often the dupe of his own 
 ingenuity ; which made him doubt and balance, and 
 gave an oscitancy fatal to vigour in council, as well as 
 most prejudicial to the effects of eloquence, by breaking 
 the force of his blows as they fell. His nature, too, 
 perhaps owing to this hesitating disposition, was to be a 
 follower, if not a worshipper, rather than an original 
 thinker or actor ; as if he felt some relief under the 
 doubts which harassed him from so many quarters, in
 
 220 MR. WINDHAM. 
 
 thus taking shelter under a master's wing, and devolving 
 
 upon a less scrupulous balancer of conflicting reasons, 
 
 the task of trimming the scales, and formuig his 
 
 opinions for him. Accordingly, first Jolmson in private, 
 
 and afterwards Burke on political matters, were the 
 
 deities whom he adored ; and he adhered manfully to 
 
 the strong opinions of the latter, though oftentimes 
 
 painfully compelled to suppress his sentunents, all the 
 
 time that he took council with Mr. Pitt and Lord Gren- 
 
 ville, who would only consent to conduct the French war 
 
 upon principles far lower and more compromising than 
 
 those of the great anti- Jacobin and anti-Gallican leader. 
 
 But when untrammelled by official connexion, and 
 
 having his lips sealed by no decorum or prudence or 
 
 other observance prescribed by station, it was a brave 
 
 sight to see this gallant personage descend into the field 
 
 of debate, panting for the fray, eager to confront any 
 
 man or any number of men that might prove his match, 
 
 scornuig all the little suggestions of a paltry discretion, 
 
 heedless of every risk of retort to which he misrht 
 
 expose himself, as regardless of popular applause as of 
 
 Court fiivoiu-, nay, from his natural love of danger and 
 
 disdain of everything like fear, rushing into the most 
 
 offensive expression of the most mipopular opinions with 
 
 as much alacrity as he evinced in braving the power and 
 
 daring the enmity of the Cro^vn. Nor was the style of 
 
 his speaking at all like that of other men's. It was in 
 
 the easy tone of familiar conversation ; but it was full of 
 
 nice obseiTation and profound remai-k ; it was instinct 
 
 with classical allusion ; it was even over-informed \^'ith 
 
 philosophic and mth learned reflection ; it sparkled with 
 
 the finest Mat — a wit which was as far superior to
 
 MR. WINDHAM. 221 
 
 Sheridan's, as his to the gambols of the Clown, or the 
 movements of Pantaloon ; and his wit, how exuberant 
 soever, still seemed to help on the argument, as well as to 
 illustrate the meaning of the speaker. He was, however, 
 in the main, a serious, a persuasive speaker, whose words 
 plainly flowed from deep and vehement, and long con- 
 sidered, and well weighed, feelings of the heart. Erat 
 summa gravitas ; erat cum gravitate junctus facetiarum 
 et urbanitatis oratorius non scurrilis lepos. Latine lo- 
 quendi accurata et sine molestia diligens elegantia. (Cic. 
 Brut.) 
 
 The rock on which he so often made shipwreck in de- 
 bate, and still oftener in council or action, was that love 
 of paradox, on which the tide of his exuberant inge- 
 nuity naturally carried him, as it does many others, who, 
 finding so much more may be said in behalf of an unte- 
 nable position than at first sight appeared possible to 
 themselves, or than ordinary minds can at any time ap- 
 prehend, begin to bear with the erroneous dogma, and 
 end by adopting it.* 
 
 ' They first endure, then pity, then embrace.' 
 
 So he was from the indomitable bravery of his disposi- 
 tion, and his loathing of everything mean, or that sa- 
 voured of truckling to mei'e power, not unfrequently led 
 to prefer a course of conduct, or a line of argument, be- 
 cause of their running counter to public opinion or the 
 
 * They who have been engaged in professional business with the 
 late Mr. John Clerk (afterwards Lord Eldin) may recollect how often 
 that great lawyer was carried away to entertain paradoxical opinions 
 exactly by the process here described.
 
 222 MR. WINDHAM. 
 
 general feeling ; instead of confining his disregard to 
 popularity within just bounds, and holding on his course 
 in pui'suit of truth and right, in spite of its temporary 
 disfavour with the people. With these errors there was 
 generally much truth mingled, or at least much that 
 was manifestly wrong tinged the tenets or the conduct he 
 was opposing ; yet he was not the less an unsafe coun- 
 cillor, and in debate a dangerous ally. His conduct on 
 the Volunteer question, the interference of the City with 
 Military Rewards, the Amusements of the People, and 
 Cruelty to Animals, affoi"ded instances of this mixed de- 
 scription, where he was led into error by resisting almost 
 equal error on the opposite hand ; yet do these questions 
 alsoaffoi-d proof of the latter part of the foregoing pro- 
 position; for what sound or rational view could justify 
 his hostility to all voluntary defence, his reprobation of 
 all expression of public gratitude for the services of our 
 soldiers and sailors, his unqualified defence of bull-bait- 
 ing, liis resistance of all checks upon cruelty towards the 
 brute creation ? Upon other subjects of still graver 
 import his paradoxes stood prominent and mischievous ; 
 unredeemed by ingenuity, unpalliated by opposite exag- 
 geration, and even unmitigated by any admixture of 
 truth. He defended the Slave Trade, which he had at 
 first opposed, only because the French Royalists were 
 injured by the revolt which their own follies had occa- 
 sioned in St. Domingo; he resisted all mitigation of our 
 Criminal Law, only because it formed a part of our anti- 
 quated jurisprudence, like trial by battle, nay by ordeal 
 of fire and water ; and he opposed every project for 
 Educating the People. It required all men's tenderness
 
 MR. WINDHAM. 223 
 
 towards undoubted sincerity and clear disinterestedness 
 to think charitably of such pernicious heresies in such a 
 man. It demanded all this charity and all this faith in 
 the spotless honour of his character, to believe that such 
 opinions could really be the convictions of a mind like 
 his. It was the greatest tribute which could be paid to 
 his sterling merit, his fine parts, his rare accomplish- 
 ments, that, in spite of such wild aberrations, he was 
 still admired and beloved. 
 
 To convey any notion of his oratory by giving pas- 
 sages of his speeches is manifestly impossible. Of the 
 mixed tenderness and figure in which he sometimes in- 
 dulged, his defence of the military policy pursued by 
 him while in office against the attempts made to 
 change it the year after, might be mentioned ; the fine 
 speech, especially, in which, on taking leave of the sub- 
 ject, after comparing the two plans of recruiting our 
 army to a dead stick thrust into the ground and a living 
 sapling planted to take root in the soil, he spoke of 
 carving his name upon the tree as lovers do when they 
 would perpetuate the remembrance of their passions or 
 their misfortunes. Of his happy allusions to the writings 
 of kindred spirits an example, but not at all above their 
 average merit, is afforded in his speech upon the peace 
 of Amiens, when he answered the remarks upon the use- 
 lessness of the Royal title, then given up, of King of 
 France, by citing the bill of costs brought in by Dean 
 Swift against Marlborough, and the comparative account 
 of the charges of a Roman triumph, where the crown 
 of laurel is set down at twopence. But sometimes he 
 would convulse the House by a happy, startling, and
 
 '224 MR. WINDHAM. 
 
 most unexpected allusion ; as when on the Walcheren 
 question, speaking of a coup-de-main on Antwerp, which 
 had been its professed object, he suddenly said, " A 
 coup-de-mahi in the Scheldt ! You might as well talk 
 of a coup-de-main in the Court of Chancery." Sir 
 William Grant having just entered and taken his seat, 
 probably suggested this excellent jest ; and assuredly no 
 man enjoyed it more. His habitual gravity was over- 
 powered in an instant, and he was seen absolutely to 
 roll about on the bench which he had just occupied. 
 So a word or two artistly introduced would often serve 
 hun to cover the adverse argument mth ridicule. When 
 arguing that they who would protect animals from cru- 
 elty have more on their hands than they are aware of, 
 and that they cannot stop at preventing ci-uelty, but 
 must also prohiljit killing, he was met by the old answer, 
 that we kill them to prevent them overrunning the earth, 
 and then he said in passing, and, as it were, parentheti- 
 cally — " An indifferent reason, by the way, for destroy- 
 ing fish." His two most happy and picturesque, though 
 somewhat caricatured, descriptions of Mr. Pitt's diction, 
 have been already mentioned ; that it was a state-paper 
 style, and that he believed he could speak a Kmg's 
 speech off-hand. His gallantry in facing all attacks was 
 shown daily ; and how little he cared for allusions to the 
 offensive expressions treasured up against him, and all 
 the more easily remembered because of the epigrams in 
 wliich he had embalmed them, might be seen from the 
 way he himself would refer to them, as if not flashing 
 they should be forgotten. When some phrase of his, long 
 after it was first used, seemed to invite attack, and a
 
 MR. WINDHAM. 225 
 
 great cheer followed, as if he had unwittingly fallen into 
 the scrape, he stopped, and added, '' Why, I said it on 
 purpose !" or, as he pronounced it, " a purpose ; " for 
 no man more delighted in the old pronunciation, as well 
 as the pure Saxon idiom of our language, which yet he 
 could enrich and dignify with the importations of clas- 
 sical phraseology. 
 
 From what has been said of Mr. Windham's man- 
 ner of speaking, as well as of his variously embellished 
 mind, it will readily be supposed that in society he was 
 destined to shine almost without a rival. His manners 
 were the most polished, and noble, and courteous, with- 
 out the least approach to pride, or affectation, or conde- 
 scension ; his spirits were, in advanced life, so gay, 
 that he was always younger than the youngest of his 
 company ; his relish of conversation was such, that 
 after lingering to the latest moment he joined what- 
 ever party a sultry evening (or morning, as it might 
 chance to prove) tempted to haunt the streets be- 
 fore retiring to rest. How often have we accom- 
 panied him to the door of his own mansion, and then 
 been attended by him to our own, while the streets rang 
 with the peals of his hearty merriment, or echoed the 
 accents of his refined and universal wit ! But his con- 
 versation, or grave, or gay, or argumentative, or discur- 
 sive, whether sifting a difficult subject, or painting an in- 
 teresting character, or pursuing a merely playful fancy, 
 or lively to very drollery, or pensive and pathetic, or 
 losing itself in the clouds of metaphysics, or vexed with 
 paradox, or plain and homely, and all but commonplace, 
 was that which, to be understood, must have been list- 
 ened to ; and while over the whole was flung a veil oi 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 MR. WINDHAM. 
 
 unrent classical elegance, through no crevice, had there 
 been any, would ever an unkind or ill-conditioned sen- 
 timent have found entrance ! 
 
 ' Scilicet omne sacrum mors importuna profanat 
 Omnibus obscurasinjicit ille manus — 
 Ossa quieta precor, tuta requiescite in urnS.,- 
 Et sit humus cineri non onerosa tuo ! '* 
 
 * Relentless death each purer form profanes, 
 Round all that's fair his dismal arms he throws — 
 Light lie the earth that slirowds thy loved remains. 
 And softly slumbering may they taste repose ! —
 
 MR. DUNDAS. 
 
 If we turn from those whose common principles and 
 party connexion ranged them against Mr. Pitt, to the only 
 effectual supporter whom he could rely upon as a col- 
 league on the Treasury Bench, we shall certainly find 
 ourselves contemplating a personage of very inferior 
 pretensions, although one whose powers were of the most 
 useful description. Mr. Dundas, afterwards Lord Mel- 
 ville, had no claim whatever to those higher places among 
 the orators of his age, which were naturally filled by 
 the great men whom we have been describing ; nor in- 
 deed could he be deemed inter oratorum numerum at 
 all. He was a plain, business-like speaker ; a man of 
 every-day talents in the House ; a clear, easy, fluent, 
 and, from much practice, as well as strong and natural 
 sense, a skilful debater ; successfiil in profiting by an 
 adversary's mistakes ; distinct in opening a plan and de- 
 fending a Ministerial proposition ; capable of producing 
 even a great effect upon his not unwilling audience 
 by his broad and coarse appeals to popular prejudices, 
 and his confident statements of fact — those statements 
 which Sir Francis Burdett once happily oljserved, 
 " men fall into through an inveterate habit of official 
 assertion." In his various offices no one was more use- 
 ful. He was an admirable man of business ; and those 
 professional habits which he had brought from the bar 
 (where he practised long enough for a j'outh of his for- 
 tunate family to reach the highest official place) were 
 
 q2
 
 228 MR. DUNDAS. 
 
 not more serviceable to him in making his speeches per- 
 spicuous, and his reasoning logical, than they were in 
 disciplining his mind to the drudgery of the desk, and 
 helping him to systematise, as well as to direct, the ma- 
 chinery of his department. After quitting the profes- 
 sion of the law, to which, indeed, he had for some of the 
 later years of Lord North's Administration only nomi- 
 nally belonged, and leaving also the office of Lord Ad- 
 vocate, which he retained for several years after, he suc- 
 cessively filled the place of Minister for India, for the 
 Home and War Departments, and for Naval Affairs. 
 But it was in the first of these capacities, while at the 
 head of the India Board, and while Chairman of the 
 Committee of the Commons upon India, that his great 
 capacity for affairs shone chiefly forth ; and that he 
 gave solid and long-continued proof of an indefatigable 
 industry, which neither the distractions of debate in 
 Parliament, nor the convivial habits of the man and of 
 the times ever could interrupt or relax. His celebrated 
 Reports upon all the complicated questions of our Asia- 
 tic policy, although they may not stand a comparison 
 with some of Mr. Burke's, in the profundity and en- 
 largement of general views, any more than their style 
 can be compared with his, are nevertheless performances 
 of tlie greatest merit, and repositories of information 
 upon that vast subject, unrivalled for clearness and ex- 
 tent. They, together with Lord Wellesley's Despatches, 
 form the sources from which the bulk of all the know- 
 ledge possessed upon Indian matters is to be derived by 
 the statesmen of the present day. 
 
 If in his official departments, and in the contests of 
 Parliament, Mr. Dundas rendered able service, and pos-
 
 MR. DUNDAS. 229 
 
 sessed great weight, it was in Scotland, his native coun- 
 try, whose language he spoke, and whose whole affairs 
 he directed, that his power and his authority chiefly 
 prevailed. Before the reform in our representation 
 and our municipal institutions, the undisturbed pos- 
 session of patronage by a leading member of the Go- 
 vernment, was very sure to carry along with it a para- 
 mount influence, both over the representatives of this 
 ancient kingdom and over their constituents. Why 
 the submission to men in high place, and endowed with 
 the power of conferring many favours, should have been 
 so much more absolute in the northern than in the south- 
 ern parts of our island, it would be needless to inquire. 
 Whether it arose from the old feudal habits of the 
 nation, or from its poverty, joined with a laudable am- 
 bition to rise in the world above the pristine station, or 
 from the waiy and provident character of the people ; 
 certain it is that they displayed a devotion for their 
 political superiors, and a belief in their infallibility, 
 which would have done no discredit to the clansmen of 
 those chieftains who, whilom both granted out the lands 
 of the sept, retained the stipulated services of the vassal, 
 and enjoyed the rights of jurisdiction and of punishment, 
 whereby obedience was secured, and zealous attachment 
 stimulated in its alliance with wholesome terror. 
 
 That Mr. Dundas enjoyed this kind of ministerial sove- 
 reignty and received this homage in a more ample mea- 
 sure than any of his predecessors, was, no doubt, owing 
 partly to the unhesitating and unqualified determination 
 which regulated his conduct, of devoting his u'hole 
 patronage to the support of his party, and to the extent 
 of that patronage, from his being so long minister for
 
 230 MR. DUNDAS. 
 
 India, as well as having the whole Scottish preferment 
 at liis absolute disposal ; but it was also in part owing 
 to the engaging qualities of the man. A steady and 
 determined friend, who only stood the faster by those 
 that wanted him the more ; nay, who even in their 
 errors or their faults would not give up liis adherents : 
 an agreeable companion, from the joyous Inlarity of liis 
 manners; void of all affectation, aU pride, all preten- 
 sion ; a kind and affectionate man in the relations of 
 private life; and although not always sufficiently re- 
 gardful of strict deconmi in certain pai-ticulars, yet 
 never putting on the Pharisee's garb, or affecting a 
 more " gracious state" than he had attained ; friendly, 
 self-denj'ing to those inferiors in his department whose 
 comforts so much depended upon liim ; in his demeanour 
 hearty and good-humoured to all — it is difficult to figure 
 any one more calculated to win over those whom his 
 mere power and station had failed to attach ; or better 
 fitted to retain the friends whom accident or influence 
 might originally have attached to his person. That he 
 should for so many years have disposed of the votes in 
 Parliament of nearly the whole Scottish commoners, 
 and the whole Peers, was, therefore, little to be won- 
 dered at ; that his popularity and influence in the coun- 
 try at large should have been boundless duiing all tins 
 period, is as easily to be understood. There was then 
 no doubt ever raised of the ministry's stability, or of 
 Mr. Duudas's ample share in the dispensation of its 
 favours. The political sky was clear and settled to the 
 veiy verge of the horizon. Tliere was nothing to dis- 
 turb the hearts of anxious mortals. The waiy and 
 pensive Scot felt sure of liis election, if he but kept by
 
 MR. DUNDAS. 231 
 
 the true faith ; and his path lay straight before him — 
 the path of righteous devotion leading unto a blessed pre- 
 ferment. But our Northern countrymen were fated to 
 be visited by some troubles. The heavens became over- 
 cast; their luminary was for a while concealed from 
 devout eyes ; in vain they sought him, but he was not. 
 Uncouth names began to be named. More than two 
 parties were talked of. Instead of the old, convenient, 
 and intelligible alternative of " Pitt or Fox" — " place or 
 poverty," — which left no doubt in any rational mind 
 which of the two to choose, there was seen — strange 
 sight ! — hateful and perplexing omen ! — a Ministry 
 without Pitt, nay, without Dundas, and an Opposition 
 leaning towards its support. Those who are old enough 
 to remember that dark interval, may recoUect how the 
 public mind in Scotland was subdued with awe, and how 
 men awaited in trembling silence the uncertain event, 
 as all living things quail during the solemn pause that 
 precedes an earthquake. 
 
 It was in truth a crisis to try men's souls. For a 
 while all was imcertainty and consternation ; all were 
 seen fluttering about like birds in an eclipse or a 
 thunder-storm ; no man could tell whom he might 
 trust ; nay, worse still, no man could tell of whom he 
 might ask anything. It was hard to say, not who 
 were in office, but who were likel}' to remain in office. 
 All true Scots were in dismay and distraction. It 
 might truly be said they knew not which Avay to look, 
 or whither to turn. Perhaps it might be yet more 
 truly said, that they knew not when to turn. But 
 such a crisis was too sharp to last ; it passed a\vay ; 
 and then was to be seen a proof of Mr. Dundas's power
 
 232 MR. DUNDAS. 
 
 amongst his countrymen, which transcended all expec- 
 tation, and ahiiost surpassed belief, if indeed it is not 
 rather to be viewed as an evidence of the acute foresight 
 — the political second-sight — of the Scottish nation. 
 The trusty band in both Houses actually were found ad- 
 hering to him against the existing Government ; nay, 
 he held the proxies of many Scottish Peers in open 
 opposition ! Well might his colleague exclaim to the 
 hapless Addington in such unheard-of troubles, " Doc- 
 tor, the Thanes fly from us ! " When the very Scotch 
 Peers wavered, and when the Grampian hills might 
 next be expected to move about, it was time to think 
 that tlie end of all things was at hand ; and the re- 
 turn of Pitt and security, and patronage and Dundas, 
 speedily ensued to bless old Scotland, and reward her 
 providence or her fidelity — her attachment at once to 
 her patron, and to herself. 
 
 The subject of Lord Melville cannot be left com- 
 plete without some mention of the event which finally 
 deprived him of place and of power, though it hardly 
 ever lowered him in the respect and afl'ections of his 
 countrymen. We allude, of course, to the Resolutions 
 carried by Mr. "N^'hitbread on the 8th of April, 1805, 
 with the Speaker's casting voice, which led to the im- 
 mediate resignation, and subsequent impeachment of 
 this distinguished person. Mr. Pitt defended him 
 strenuously, and only was compelled to abandon his 
 friend and colleague, by the vote of the Commons, 
 which gave him a " bitter pang," that as he pro- 
 nounced the word made the hall resound, and seems 
 yet to fill the ear. But after his death, while the Go- 
 vernment was in his rival's hands, and all the ofticcs of
 
 MR. DUNDAS. 233 
 
 the State were filled with the enemies of the accused. 
 Lord Melville was brought to trial before his Peers, and 
 by a large majority acquitted, to the almost universal 
 satisfaction of the country. Have we any right to 
 regard him as guilty after this proceeding ? It is true 
 that the spirit of party is charged with the event of 
 this memorable trial ; but did nothing of that spirit 
 preside over the proceedings in the Commons, the 
 grand inquest of the nation, which made the present- 
 ment, and put the accused upon his trial ? That Lord 
 Melville was a careless man and wholly indifferent 
 about money, his whole life had shown. That he had 
 replaced the entire sum temporarily used, was part 
 even of the statement which charged him with mis- 
 employing it. That Mr. Pitt, whom no one ever ac- 
 cused of corruption, had been a party to two of his 
 supporters using four times as much of the public 
 money for a time, and without paying interest, was 
 soon after proved ; though for the purpose of pressing 
 more severely upon Lord Melville, a great alacrity was 
 shown to acquit the Prime Minister, by way of forming 
 contrast to the Treasurer of the Navy. In a word, the 
 case proved against him was not by any means so clear 
 as to give us the right to charge the great majority of 
 his Peers with corrupt and dishonourable conduct in 
 acquitting him ; while it is a known fact that the 
 Judges who attended the trial were, Avith the exception 
 of the Lord Chief Justice, all clearly convinced of his 
 innocence. Nor, let it be added, would the charge 
 against him have been deemed, in the times of the 
 Harleys and the Walpoles, of a nature to stain his 
 character, ^^'^ituess Walpole rising to supreme power
 
 234 MR. DUNDAS. 
 
 after being expelled the House of Commons for cor- 
 ruption ; and after having only urged in his own 
 defence, that the thousand pounds paid to him by a 
 contractor had been for the use of a friend, whom he 
 desired to favour, and to whom he had paid it all over; 
 not to mention his having received above seventeen 
 thousand pounds, under circumstances of the gravest 
 suspicion, the day before he quitted office, and which 
 he never seems to have accounted for, except by saying 
 he had the King's authority to take it.* It is very 
 
 * Mr. Cose, in his Life of Walpole, cannot, of course, put the de- 
 fence on higher ground than Wsilpole himself took, as to the 1000/. 
 received on the contract, in 1711, when he was Secretary at War. 
 As to the sum reported by the House of Commons' Committee 
 (17,461/.) to have been obtained by him in 1712, on the authority of 
 two Treasury orders, the biographer's main argument is, that the 
 money must have been immediately wanted for public purposes, 
 though these never were particularised, and that the King must have 
 approved of the draft, because he signed the warrants. A weaker 
 defence cannot well be conceived ; nor is it much aided by the asser- 
 tion which follows, that Sir Robert began writing a vindication of 
 himself, which he broke off " on a conviction that his answer must 
 either have been materially defective, or he must have related many 
 things highly improper to be exposed to the public." The fact of a 
 man, with an estate of about 2000L a-year at first, and which never 
 rose to much above 4000/., having lived extravagantly, and amassed 
 above 200,000/., is not at all explained by Mr. Coxe ; and it is mainly 
 on this expensive living and accumulation of fortune, that the suspi- 
 cions which hang over his memory rest. But it is needless to say 
 more upon a topic which could form no justification of Lord Melville, 
 if he were guilty. The subject is only alluded to in this place for the 
 purpose of showing how much more pure our public men now are, 
 and how much higher is our standard of official virtue. The acquit- 
 tal of Lord Mehalle was deemed insufficient to sanction his restoration
 
 MR. DUNDAS. 235 
 
 certain that these remarks will give little satisfaction to 
 those whose political principles have always kept theni 
 apart from, and inimical to Lord Melville. But to 
 what purpose have men lived for above thirty years 
 after the trial, and survived the object of the charge 
 more than a quarter of a century, if they cannot now, 
 and upon a mere judicial question, permit their judg- 
 ments to have a free scope, — deciding calmly upon 
 events that belong to the history of the past, and in- 
 volve the reputation of the dead ? 
 
 to office ; although Sir Robert Walpole, without any attempt to rescind 
 the vote of 1112, was afterwards advanced to the place of Prime 
 Minister, and held it for twenty years.
 
 MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 The ]Ministi-y of JMr, Pitt did not derive more solid ser- 
 vice from the Bar in the person of Mr. Dundas, than the 
 Opposition party did ornament and popularity in that of 
 Mr. Erskine. His Parliamentary talents, although they 
 certamly have been underrated, were as clearly not the 
 prominent portion of his character. Nevertheless, it 
 must be admitted that, had he appeared in any other 
 period than tlie age of the Foxes, the Pitts, and the 
 Burkes, there is little chance that he would have been 
 eclipsed even as a debater ; and the singular eloquence and 
 powerful effect of his famous speech against the Jesuits' 
 Bark Bill in the House of Lords,* abundantly proves 
 this position. He never appears to have given his whole 
 mind to the practice of debating ; he had a very scanty 
 provision of political infonnation ; his time was always 
 occupied with the laborious pui-suits of his profession ; 
 he came into the House of Commons, where he stood 
 among several equals, and behind some superiors, from a 
 stage where he shone alone, and without a rival ; above 
 all, he was accustomed to address a select and friendly 
 audience, bound to lend him their patient attention, and 
 to address them by the compulsion of his retainer, not as 
 a volunteer coming forward in his own person ; a position 
 from which the transition is violent and extreme, to that 
 of having to gain and to keep a promiscuous and, in great 
 
 * 1808.
 
 tii^fantttf n Woodman 
 
 ElfSSilKnNIE 
 
 
 I.„ul^/^ljfl,^ i, <KM^ lin^^.j.ud,^Jam,uU,JiaM^J!^i
 
 MR. ERSKINE. 237 
 
 part, hostile audience, not under any obligation to listen 
 one instant beyond the time during which the speaker 
 can flatter, or interest, or amuse them. Earlier prac- 
 tice and more devotion to the pursuit, would doubtless 
 have vanquished all these disadvantages ; but they suf- 
 ficed to keep Mr. Erskine alwiiys in a station far 
 beneath his talents, as long as he remained in the House 
 of Commons. 
 
 It is to the Forum, and not the Senate, that we must 
 hasten, if we would witness the " coronam multiplicem, 
 judicium erectum, crebras assensiones, multas admira- 
 tiones, risum cum velit, cum velit fletum, in Scena 
 Roscium ;" in fine, if we would see this great man in 
 his element and in his glory. Nor let it be deemed 
 trivial, or beneath the historian's province, to mark that 
 noble figure, every look of whose countenance is expres- 
 sive, every motion of whose form graceful ; an eye that 
 sparkles and pierces, and almost assures victory, while 
 it " speaks audience ere the tongue." Juries have 
 declared that tbey felt it impossible to remove their 
 looks from him when he had riveted and, as it wei'e, 
 fascinated them by his first glance ; and it used to be a 
 common remark of men Avho observed his motions, that 
 they resembled those of a blood-horse ; as light, as 
 limber, as much betokening strength and speed, as free 
 from all gross superfluity or incumbrance. Then hear 
 his voice of surpassing sweetness, clear, flexible, strong, 
 exquisitely fitted to strains of serious earnestness, defi- 
 cient in compass, indeed, and much less fitted to express 
 indignation or even scorn than pathos, but wliolly free 
 from either harshness or monotony. All these, however, 
 and even his chaste, dignified, and appropriate action.
 
 238 MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 were very small parts of this wonderful advocate's ex- 
 cellence. He had a thorough knowledge of men — 
 of their passions and their feelings — he knew every 
 avenue to the heart, and could at will make all its 
 chords vibrate to his touch. His fancy, though never 
 playful in public, where he had his whole faculties 
 under the most severe control, was lively and brilliant ; 
 when he gave it vent and scope, it was eminently 
 sportive ; but while representing his client, it was 
 wholly subservient to that in which his whole soul was 
 wrapped up, and to which each faculty of body and of 
 mind was subdued, the success of the cause. His argu- 
 mentative powers were of the highest order ; clear in 
 his statements, close in his applications, unwearied and 
 never to be diverted in his deductions ; with a quick and 
 sure perception of his point, and undeviating in the pur- 
 suit of whatever established it ; endued with a nice dis- 
 cernment of the relative importance and weight of dif- 
 ferent arguments, and the faculty of assigning to each its 
 proper place, so as to bring forward the main body of 
 the reasoning in bold relief, and Avith its full breadth, 
 and not weaken its effect by distracting and disturbing 
 the attention of the audience among lesser particulars. 
 His imderstanding was eminently legal ; though he had 
 never made himself a great lawyer, yet could he conduct 
 a purely legal argument with the most perfect success ; 
 and his familiarity with all the ordinary matters of his 
 profession was abundantly sufficient for the purposes 
 of the forum. His memory was accurate and retentive 
 in an extraordinary degree ; nor did he ever, during 
 the trial of a cause, forget any matter, how trifling 
 soever, that belonged to it. His presence of mind was
 
 MR. ERSKINE. 239 
 
 perfect in action, that is, before the jury, when a line 
 is to be taken upon the instant, and a question risked to 
 a witness, or a topic chosen Avith the tribunal, on which 
 the whole fate of the cause may turn. No man made 
 fewer mistakes ; none left so few advantages unim- 
 proved ; before none was it so dangerous for an adver- 
 sary to slumber and be off his guard ; for he was ever 
 broad awake himself, and was as adventurous as he 
 was skilful ; and as apt to take advantage of any the 
 least opening, as he was cautious to leave none in his 
 own battle. 
 
 But to all these qualities he joined that fire, 
 that spirit, that courage, which gave vigour and di- 
 rection to the whole, and bore down all resistance. 
 No man, with all his address and prudence, ever 
 adventured upon more bold figures, and they were 
 uniformly successful ; for his imagination was vigorous 
 enough to sustain any flight ; his taste was correct, and 
 even severe, and his execution felicitous in the highest 
 degree. Without much familiar knowledge of even 
 the Latin classics ; with hardly any access to the beau- 
 ties of the Attic eloquence, whether in prose or verse ; 
 with no skill in modern languages, his acquaint- 
 ance with the English tongue was yet so perfect, and 
 his taste so exquisite, that nothing could exceed the 
 beauty of his diction, whatever subject he attempted ; 
 whether discoursing on the most humble topics, of the 
 most ordinary case in court or in society, or defending 
 men for their lives, under the persecution of tyrannical 
 power, wrestling against the usurpations of Parliament 
 in favour of the liberty of the press, and upholding 
 against the assaults of the infidel the fabric of revealed
 
 240 MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 religion. Indeed the lieauty, as well as chaste sim- 
 plicity, of the language in which he would clothe the 
 most lowly subjects reminded the classical scholar of 
 some narratives in the Odyssey, where there is not one 
 idea that rises above the meanest level, and yet all is 
 made graceful and elegant by the magic of the diction. 
 Aware that his classical acquirements were so slender, 
 men oftentimes marvelled at the phenomenon of his 
 eloquence, above all, of his composition. The solution 
 of the difficulty lay in the constant reading of the old 
 English authors to which he devoted himself: Shak- 
 speare he was more familiar with than almost any man 
 of his age ; and Milton he nearly had by heart. Nor 
 can it 1)6 denied that the study of the speeches in 
 "Paradise Lost," is as good a substitute as can be 
 found for the immortal originals in the Greek models, 
 upon which those great productions have manifestly 
 been formed. 
 
 Such was his oratory ; but oratory is only the 
 half, and the lesser half of the IVisi Priiis advocate ; 
 and ]Mr. Erskine never was known to fail in the more 
 important moiety of the part he had to sustain. The 
 entire devotion to his cause which made him reject 
 every thing that did not help it forward, and indignantly 
 scorn all temptation to sacrifice its smallest point for 
 any rhetorical triumph, was not the only virtue of his 
 advocacy. His judgment was quick, sound, and sure, 
 upon each successive step to be taken ; his decision 
 bold, but cautious and enlightened, at each turn. His 
 speaking was hardly more perfect than his examination 
 of witnesses, the art in which so much of an English 
 advocate's skill is shown ; and his examination-in-chief
 
 MR. ERSKINE. 241 
 
 was as excellent as his cross-examination ; a department 
 so apt to deceive the vulgar, and which yet is, generally 
 speaking, far less available, as it hardly ever is more 
 difficult than the examination-in-chief, or in reply. In 
 all these various functions, whether of addressing the 
 jury, or urging objections to the court, or examining 
 his own witnesses, or cross-examining his adversary's, 
 this consummate advocate appeared to fill at one and 
 the same time different characters ; to act as the council 
 and representative of the party, and yet to be the very 
 party himself; while he addressed the tribunal, to be 
 also acquainted with every feeling and thought of the 
 judge or the jury ; and while he interrogated the witness, 
 whether to draw from him all he knew and in the most 
 favourable shape, or to shake and displace all he had 
 said that was adverse, he appeared to have entered into 
 the mind of the person he was dealing with, and to be 
 familiar with all that was passing within it. It is by 
 such means that the hearer is to be moved, and the 
 truth ascertained ; and he will ever be the most success- 
 ful advocate who can approach the nearest to this lofty 
 and difficult position. 
 
 The speeches of this great man are preserved to us 
 with a care and correctness which those only of ]Mr. 
 Burke, INIr. Windham, Mr. Canning, and Lord Dudley, 
 among all the orators of whom this work treats, can 
 boast. He had a great facility of composition ; he wrote 
 both much and coi-rectly. The five volumes which remain 
 were all revised by liimself; most of them at the several 
 times of their first publication. Mr. Windliam, too, is 
 known to have left most of his speeches written out cor- 
 rectly in his own hand. The same care was bestowed 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 upon their speeches by the others just named. Neither 
 tliose of Mr. Fox or ]\Ir. Pitt, nor,^vith one or two excep- 
 tions, of Mr. Sheridan, ever enjoyed the same advantages ; 
 and a most unfair estimate would therefore be fonned of 
 their eloquence, as compared mth that of others, were 
 men only to build their judgment upon the records which 
 the Parliamentary Debates present. 
 
 Of Mr. Erskme's, the first, beyond all doubt, was his 
 speech for Stockdale, foolishly and oppressively prosecu- 
 ted by the House of Commons, for publishing the Reverend 
 ]\Ir. Logan's eloquent tract upon Hastings's unpeach- 
 ment. There are no finer things in modern, and few finer 
 in ancient eloquence than the celebrated passage of the 
 Indian Cliief ; nor lias beautiful language ever been used 
 with more curious felicity to raise a striking and an ap- 
 propriate image before the mind, than in the simile of 
 the winds " lashing before them the lazy elements, which 
 without the tempest would stagnate into pestilence." The 
 speeches on Constructive Treason are also noble perform- 
 ances ; in which the reader never can forget the sublimity 
 of the denunciation against those who took from the " file 
 the sentence against Sidney, which should have been left 
 on record to all ages, that it might arise and blacken in 
 the sight, like the handwriting on the wall before the East- 
 ern tyrant, to deter from outrages upon justice." One or 
 two of the speeches upon Seduction, especially that for 
 the defendant in Howard v. Bingham, are of exquisite 
 beauty. 
 
 It remains that we commemorate the deeds which he 
 did, and which cast the fame of his oratory into the 
 shade. He was an undaunted man ; he was an undaunted 
 advocate. To no Court did he ever truckle, neither to
 
 MR. ERSKINE. 243 
 
 the Court of the King, neither to the Court of the King's 
 Judges. Their smiles and their frowns he disregarded 
 alike in the fearless discharge of his duty. He upheld 
 the liberty of the press against the one ; he defended the 
 rights of the people against both combined to destroy 
 them. If there be yet amongst us the power of freely 
 discussing the acts of our rulers ; if there be yet the pri- 
 vilege of meeting for the promotion of needful reforms ; 
 if he who desires wholesome changes in our Constitution 
 be still recognised as a patriot, and not doomed to die the 
 death of a traitor ; let us acknowledge \vith gratitude, 
 that to this great man, under Heaven, we owe this felicity 
 of the tunes. In 1 794, his dauntless energy, his indomi- 
 table courage, kindling his eloquence, inspiring his con- 
 duct, giving direction and lendmg firmness to his match- 
 less skill, resisted the combination of statesmen, and 
 princes, and lawyers — the league of cruelty and craft, 
 formed to destroy our liberties — and triumphantly scat- 
 tered to the winds the half-accomplished scheme of an un- 
 sparing proscription. Before such a precious service as this, 
 well may the lustre of statesmen and of orators grow pale ; 
 and yet this was the achievement of one only not the first 
 orator of his age, and not among its foremost statesmen, 
 because he was beyond all comparison the most accom- 
 plished advocate, and the most eloquent, that modern 
 times have produced. 
 
 The disposition and manners of the man were hardly 
 less attractive than his genius and liis professional skill 
 were admirable. He was, like almost all great men, 
 simple, natural, and amiable ; full of humane feelings 
 and kindly affections. Of wit, he had little or none in 
 conversation ; and he was too gay to take any (k^light m 
 
 R 2
 
 244 MR. ERSKINE, 
 
 discussion ; but liis humour was playful to buoyancy, 
 and wild even to extravagance ; and he indulged his 
 roaming and devious and abrupt hnagination as much in 
 society, as in public he kept it under rigorous control. 
 That his private character was exempt from failings can 
 in no wise be affimied. The egotism which was charged 
 upon his conversation, and in which he only seemed to 
 adopt the habit of the forensic leaders of his times, was 
 wholly umnixed with anything offensive to others ; 
 though it might excite a smile at his own expense. Far 
 from seeking to raise himself by their depression, his 
 vanity was of the best-natured and least selfish kind ; it 
 was wholly social and tolerant, and, as it were, grega- 
 rious ; nay, he always seemed to extol the deeds of others 
 mth fully more enthusiasm than he ever displayed in 
 recounting his own. But there were darker places to be 
 marked, in the extreme imprudence with which some in- 
 dulgences were sought, and unfortunate connexions, 
 even late in life, formed. Lord Kenyon, who admired 
 and loved hun fervently, and used always to appear as 
 vain of him as a schoolmaster of his favourite pupil, 
 though himself rigorous to the point of ascetism, was 
 wont to call these imperfections, viewing them tolerantly, 
 " spots in the sun ;" and it must with sorrow be added, 
 that as the lustre of the luminaty became more dim, 
 the spots did not contract in theii' dimensions. The 
 usual course on such occasions is to say, Taceamus de 
 his, — but History neither asserts her greatest privilege, 
 nor discharges her higher duties, when, dazzled by bril- 
 liant genius, or astonished by splendid triumphs, or even 
 softened by amiable qualities, she abstains from mark- 
 ing those defects which so often degrade the most ster-
 
 MR. ERSKINE. 245 
 
 ling worth, and which the talents and the affections that 
 they accompany may sometimes seduce men to imitate. 
 
 The striking and imposing appearance of this great 
 man's person has been mentioned. His Herculean strength 
 of constitution may also be noted. During the eight-and- 
 twenty years that he practised at the bar, he never was 
 prevented for one hour from attending to his professional 
 duties. At the famous State Trials in 1794, he lost his 
 voice on the evening before he was to address the Jury. 
 It returned to him just in time, and this, like otlier feli- 
 cities of his career, he always ascribed to a special provi- 
 dence, with the habitually religious disposition of mind 
 which was hereditary in the godly families that he sprung 
 from.
 
 MR. PERCEVAL. 
 
 A PERSON of great eminence, who, like ]\Ir. Erskine, 
 arose from the Bar, where, however, he never distin- 
 guished himself much, was Mr. Perceval, a man 
 of very quick parts, much energy of character, 
 dauntless courage, joined to patient industry, prac- 
 tised fluency as a speaker, great skill and readi- 
 ness as a debater ; but of no information beyond 
 what a classical education gives the common run of 
 English youths. Of views upon all things the most 
 narrow, upon religious and even political questions the 
 most bigoted and intolerant, his range of mental vision 
 was confined in proportion to his ignorance on all ge- 
 neral subjects. Within that sphere he saw with extreme 
 acuteuess, — as the mole is supposed to be more sharp- 
 sighted than the eagle for half a quarter of an inch be- 
 fore it ; but as beyond the limits of his little horizon he 
 saw no better than the mole, so like her, he firmly be- 
 lieved, and always acted on the belief, that beyond what 
 he could descry nothing whatever existed ; and he mis- 
 trusted, dreaded, and even hated all who had an ampler 
 visual range than himself. But here, unhappily, all 
 likeness ceases between the puny animal and the power- 
 ful statesman. Beside the manifest sincerity of his con- 
 victions, attested, perhaps, by his violence and rancour, he 
 possessed many qualities, both of the head and the heart, 
 which strongly recommended him to the confidence of
 
 MR. PERCEVAL. 247 
 
 the English people. He never scared them by refine- 
 ments, nor alarmed their fears by any sympathy with im- 
 provements out of the old and beaten track ; and he 
 shared largely in all their favoui'ite national prejudices. 
 A devoted adherent of the Crown, and a pious son of 
 the Church, he was dear to all who celebrate their re- 
 vels by libations to Church and King — most of whom 
 regard the clergy as of far more importance than the 
 gospel — all of whom are well enough disposed to set the 
 monarch above the law. Add to this, the accidental 
 qualification of high birth, in a family excessively at- 
 tached to the Court and the Establishment, and still 
 more the real virtues which adorned his character ; a 
 domestic life without stain, an exemplary discharge of 
 the duties that devolve on the father of a numerous 
 family, a punctual performance of all his obligations, 
 a temper Avhich, though quick and even irritable, was 
 generally good, a disposition charitable and kind where 
 the rancour of party or sect left his nature free scope. 
 From all sordid feelings he was entirely exempt — re- 
 gardless of pecuniary interest — careless of mere fortune 
 — aiming at power alone — and only suffering his ambi- 
 tion to be restrained by its intermixture with his fiery 
 zeal for the success of his cherished principles, religious 
 and civil. The whole character thus formed, whether 
 intellectual or moral, was eminently fitted to command 
 the respect and win the favour of a nation whose preju- 
 dices are numerous and deep-rooted, and whose regard 
 for the decencies of private life readily accepts a strict 
 observance of them as a substitute for ahnost any poli- 
 tical defect, and a compensation for many political 
 crimes.
 
 & 
 
 •248 MR. PERCEVAL. 
 
 The eloquence of Mr. Perceval, any more than his 
 capacity, was not of the highest order ; although, like his 
 capacity, it was always strenuously exerted, and some- 
 times extremely powerful. He was a person of acute 
 and quick ratlier than of great faculties. At the bar his 
 success was assured, if he had not deviated into politics ; 
 giving a rival to that mistress which is jealous to excess 
 of the least infidelity in her suitor. The nimbleness of 
 mind and industry of application which tlien distin- 
 guished him he brought into the House of Commons , 
 and differing from other lawyers, he was always so 
 lively as to be heard without any effort in a place far 
 enough from being enamoured with the gown. As 
 Attorney-General to Mr. Addington, and bearing almost 
 the whole burthen of the unequal debate, while the 
 forces of Fox, Pitt, and Windham combined to assail 
 the meagre Treasury Bench, his talents sparkled with 
 peculiar brightness. His dexterity in any great or any 
 personal conflict ; his excellent language, ahvays purely 
 but unaffectedly English, nor ever chargeable with in- 
 correct taste ; his attention constantly awake, and liis 
 spirit ever daimtless, nay, rather rising with the emer- 
 gency — gained him the greatest reputation as a ready 
 and a powerful debater. ^\'^hen quitting the profession 
 in 1807, and taking the lead of the House of Commons, 
 he appeared as the first minister in all but name, and 
 aftenvards on the Duke of Portland's death, had the 
 title with the functions of Premier, his success was in- 
 ferior ; and he did not for some time act up to the repu- 
 tation which he had gained in the subordinate and half- 
 professional station. 
 
 But the debates upon the Regency in 1811, when he
 
 1MI{. PERCEVAL. 249 
 
 i\ >iight, almost single-handed, a battle for royal preroga- 
 tive against constitutional principle ; with the prospect 
 of the Regent ])eing his principal opponent, as his ori- 
 ginal connexion with Queen Caroline had made him his 
 implacable enemy — these contests drew forth all liis abi- 
 lities, and placed him at once in the highest rank of 
 debaters. His party too were popular in the country, 
 fond of Kings, particularly attached to George III., dis- 
 trustful and averse towards his successor, above all, 
 deeply revering the Established Church, whose selected 
 and zealous champion the minister had long been. His 
 manner of speaking, familiar though quick, lively, 
 smart, yet plain upon the whole, and offending no one 
 by figures or by tropes, was exceedingly popular in the 
 House of Commons, where the dullest have no dislike 
 to an acute and clear leader, so he be not over bril- 
 liant and mtty. He was a man of business too, in all 
 liis habits both of living and of speaking ; opening a 
 dry question of finance or regidation, with as great 
 spirit as he would reply to a personal attack : above all, his 
 gallantry in debate well fitted him for a leader. Who- 
 ever might quail before a powerful adversary, or faint un- 
 der the pressure of a bad cause, or take fright in a storm 
 of popular contention and even indignation, he was none 
 of these ; rather the louder raged the tempest, so much the 
 shriller rose the voice that called his forces together, and 
 united them for the work of the day, whether to face the 
 enemy or to weather the gale. Even in 1809, when the 
 firmness of the Royal family and the Ministry was sorely 
 tried, — but above all, of hhn,a pattern of morality, a strict 
 observer of ordinances, a somewhat intolerant exactor 
 of piety in others, of him who, beyond all men, must have
 
 250 MK. PERCEVAL. 
 
 found it hard to face tlie moral or religious indignation of 
 the whole country, roused by the veil being for a moment 
 torn rudely aside which had hitherto covered over the 
 tender immoralities of Royal life — even then the per- 
 son most likely to be struck down by the blast, was 
 the first to face it, and to struggle on manfully through 
 the whole of that difficult crisis, as if he had never 
 spoken of the Church, and the moral law, and wives 
 and children, and domestic ties, and the profligacy of 
 courts, — as if the people, of all sects and all classes, 
 were looking on, the calm spectators of an ordinary 
 debate. The public voice rendered him on tliis occasion 
 the justice ever done to men who show in performing 
 their duty that they have the courage to disregard 
 clamour, and to rely upon their reputation as a shield 
 against misconstruction. No stain rested upon liis cha- 
 racter from his gallant defence of the Duke of York ; 
 and they who were successful in attacking the fair 
 fame of the Prince, failed in all their attempts to 
 blacken his official defender. In the next Session, 
 he met Parliament with a IMinistry crippled by the 
 loss of both INIr. Canning's eloquence, and Lord Cas- 
 tlereagh's manly courage, and long experience of 
 affiiirs, — met it too, after such a signal calamity as 
 never before had attended any failure of the Government 
 in its militaiy operations. But he again presented the 
 same undaunted font to all perils ; and ha\ang happily 
 obtained the co-operation of Lord Wellesley, and con- 
 tinuing to enjoy the benefit of his illustrious brother's 
 victories, he again triumphed over all opposition, until 
 the Prince Regent's desertion of his friends seemed to 
 give the Tory party a lease of their places during his life.
 
 MR. PERCEVAL. 251 
 
 This eminent person's career was cut short while in 
 the midst of the most difficult struggle of all in which 
 he was fated to engage. The influence of his friend 
 Mr. Stephen over his mind was unbounded. Agreeing 
 on all political questions, and alike in the strength of 
 their religious feelings, although the one leant to- 
 wards the High Church party, and the other was a 
 Low Churchman, upon all questions connected with 
 neutral rights, he in an especial manner deferred to 
 the opinion of liim whose professional life had been 
 chiefly passed in the discussion of them. Accordingly 
 the measure of the Orders in Council devised by hun 
 was readily adopted by the minister, who, never giving 
 either his support or his opposition by halves, always 
 flung lumself into any cause which he espoused with as 
 much zeal as if it were his own. Add to this, his hearty 
 and deep-rooted hatred of Napoleon, whom he regarded 
 with the true feelings of the people, as he accurately re- 
 pi'esented their national prejudices — his scorn of the 
 Americans, whom he disliked with the animosity peculiar 
 to all the courtiers of George III. — his truly English 
 feeling m favour of obtainmg through the war a mono- 
 poly of all trade, and bringing into London and Bristol 
 the commerce of the world — all these desires were grati- 
 fied, and these feelings, indulged by a system which, un- 
 der the mask of retaliation upon France, professed to 
 extinguish, or to absorb into our own commerce, the 
 trade of all the neutrals whom France had oppressed in 
 order to injure us ; and Mr. Perceval thus became as 
 strenuous a champion of this unjust and preposterous 
 plan as its author himself. In 1808 he had prevailed with 
 parliament to give it a full trial; and in four years, instead
 
 252 MR. PERCEVAL. 
 
 of collecting all the trade of the world into England, it 
 had effectually ruined whatever Napoleon's measures had 
 left of our own. 
 
 Accordingly, a motion was carried at the end of 
 April, 1812, for examining the question in a com- 
 mittee of the whole house, and in taking the evidence 
 which was adduced to show the ruinous effects of the 
 system, he mth Mr. Stephen bore night after night the 
 principal part. As they both hoped that the clamour 
 out of doors would subside if time were given, the sti-uggle 
 always was to put off the inquiry, and thus to protract the 
 decision ; and Messrs. Brougham and Baring, who con- 
 ducted it, with some difficulty prevailed so far as to begin 
 the examination of the mtnesses exactly at half-past four 
 o'clock. On the 11th of May, Mr. Perceval had been 
 later than the appointed time, and after complaining of 
 this delay, I\Ir. Brougham, at a quarter before five, had 
 called his first witness, and was examining him, when a 
 messenger deputed to bring the minister, met him walking 
 towards the house with Mr. Stephen arm-in-arm. He 
 instantly, with his accustomed activity, darted forward 
 to obey the summons, but for which Mr. Stephen, who 
 happened to be on his left side, would have been the victim 
 of the assassin's blow, which prostrated Mr. Perceval as 
 he entered the lobby. The wretched man, by name Bel- 
 lingham, had no kind of quarrel \nth him ; but com- 
 plained of a suit at St. Petersburgh having been neglected 
 by our ambassador there. Lord Granville, M'hom he in- 
 tended to have destroyed had not Mr. Perceval fallen 
 first in his way. He never attempted to escape ; but was 
 taken, conmiitted, tried, condemned, executed, dissected, 
 all within one week from the time that he fired the shot.
 
 MR. PERCEVAL. 253 
 
 So great an outrage upon justice never was witnessed 
 in modern times ; for the application to delay the trial, 
 until evidence of his insanity could Ije brought from Liver- 
 pool, was refused, and the trial proceeded, while both the 
 court, the witnesses, the jury, and the people, were under 
 the influence of the feelings naturally excited by the de- 
 plorable slaughter of one of the most eminent and vir- 
 tuous men in any rank of the community. 
 
 It has l)een said already that Mr. Perceval was both im- 
 perfectly educated and very narrow minded. He was the 
 slave of violent prejudices, and had never made any effort 
 to shake them off, or to mitigate them by instructing him- 
 self in any of the branches of learning out of his own 
 profession, save only that he had the ordinary portion 
 of classical learning which all English gentlemen acquire 
 in their early youth. How amiable soever in private 
 life, he was intolerant of others who differed with him 
 in the proportion of his ignorance, and committed the 
 error of all such conscientious l)ut bigoted men, the 
 forgetting that those of opposite sentiments have exactly 
 the same excuse for unyielding obstinacy that they have 
 for rooted dislike towards adverse doctrines. They feel 
 all the heat of intolerance, but make no kind of allowance 
 for others feeling somewhat of the fire which burns so 
 fiercely within themselves.
 
 LORD GRENVILLE. 
 
 The two eminent personages of whom we have been 
 speakius;-, were ]Mr. Pitt's contemporaries and political ad- 
 herents, though of a less advanced age. But Lord Gren- 
 ville was of his own standing, followed his fortune during 
 the eventful period of the coalesced opposition and the 
 first French war, left office with him in 1 801 , nor quitted 
 him until he consented to resume it in 1804, prefer- 
 ring place to character, and leaving the '\^''liigs, by whose 
 help he had overthrown the Addington Administration. 
 From that moment Lord Grenville joined the Wlug 
 party, with whom to the end of his public life he con- 
 tinued to act. 
 
 A greater accession to the popular cause and the 
 Whig party it was impossible to imagine, unless Mr. 
 Pitt liimself 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 oppo- 
 sition and personal habits made them deficient. Lord 
 Grenville possessed in an eminent degree ; long 
 habits of business had matured his experience and dis- 
 ciplined 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 propen- 
 sities or idle talents ; a firm attachment to the Church 
 as by law established attiacted towards him the con
 
 LORD GRENVILLE. 255 
 
 fidence of those who subscribe to its doctrines and 
 approve its discipline ; while his tried prudence and 
 discretion were a balance much wanted against the op- 
 posite defects of the Whig party, and especially of their 
 most celebrated leader. 
 
 After Mr. Grattan, it would be difficult to point out 
 any person to whom the great and fundamental question 
 of Irish Policy, and the cause of religious liberty in 
 general, was so much indebted as Lord Grenville;* 
 while, in the sacrifices which he made to it, he certainly 
 nmch exceeded Mr. Grattan himself. He was enabled 
 to render this valuable service to his countiy, not more 
 by his natural abilities, which were of a very high order — 
 sound judgment, extraordinary memory, an almost pre- 
 ternatural power of application — and by the rich stores of 
 knowledge which those eminent qualities had put him 
 in possession of, than by the accidental circumstances 
 in his previous history and present position — his long 
 experience in office, which had tried and matured his 
 talents in times of unexampled difficulty — his connexion 
 
 * The plan of this work of course precludes all reference, at least 
 all detailed reference, to the conduct and the merits of living states- 
 men. But for this an ample field would be opened, in which to ex- 
 patiate upon the transcendent services of Lord Grey, and the ample 
 sacrifices which he made, during the greater part of his political life, 
 to the rights and the interests of the Irish people. Lord Wellesley's 
 services in the same cause, it is also, for the same reason, impossible 
 to enter upon, further than to remind the reader that, after having 
 almost begun life as the advocate of the Catholic claims, he, and after 
 him Lord Anglesey, first set the example to succeeding Viceroys of 
 ruling Ireland with the most perfect justice to all parties, and holding 
 the balance of favour even, with a steady hand, between Catholic 
 and Protestant, Churchman and Dissenter.
 
 256 LORD GRENVILLE. 
 
 with Mr. Pitt, both in the kindred of blood and of phice, 
 so well fitted to conciliate the Tory party, or at all 
 events to disarm their hostility, and lull their suspicions 
 — above all, the well-known and steady attachment of 
 himself and his family to the principles and the establish- 
 ment of the Church of England. 
 
 "NA'^hen, therefore, he quitted power with Mr. Pitt in 
 1801, rather than abandon the Catholic Emancipation, 
 the carrying of which had only a year before been held 
 out as one of the principal objects of the Union ; and 
 when, in 1804, he peremptorily refused to join Mr. Pitt 
 in resuming office, unless a ministry should be formed 
 upon a basis wide enough to comprehend the Whig 
 party ; the cause of liberal, tolerant principles, but, above 
 all, the Irish question, gained an able supporter, whose 
 alliance, whether his intrinsic or accidental qualities 
 were considered, might justly be esteemed beyond all 
 price. The friends of civil and religious lil^erty duly 
 valued this most important accession ; and the distm- 
 guished statesman whom they noAV accounted as one of 
 their most powerful champions, and trusted as one of 
 their most worthy leaders, amply repaid the confidence 
 reposed in him, by the steady and disinterested devotion 
 which, with his characteristic integrity and firmness, he 
 gave to the cause. Taking office with Mr. Fox, and 
 placed at the head of the government, upon the death of 
 that great man he peremptorily, and with bare courtesy, 
 rejected all the overtures of the King to separate from 
 the Whigs, and rejoin his ancient allies of the Pitt 
 school. Soon afterwards, in firm union with the remains 
 of the Fox party, he carried the Abolition of the Slave 
 Trade, and retired from power, rather than bind himself
 
 LORD GRENVILLE. 257 
 
 not to press the Catholic Emancipation upon the narrow- 
 minded though conscientious Prince whom he served. 
 Continuing in close alliance with the Whigs, he shared 
 with them the frowns of the Court and the habitual 
 exclusion from office Avhich has, for the most part, been 
 their portion in public life. Nor can it be doubted that 
 the perseverance with which he abided by his declared 
 opinions in favour of the Catholic Question alone pre- 
 vented him from presiding over the councils of his coun- 
 try, during, at the least, twenty years of his life. They 
 who have come to the aid of the liberal cause only when 
 its success made an adhesion to it the road to Court fa- 
 vour, with all its accompaniments of profit and of power, 
 have a very different account of mutual obligation to 
 settle with their country, from that which Lord Gren- 
 ville could at any time since his retirement have pre- 
 sented, but disdained ever even to hint at. But they 
 who, after his powerful advocacy, his inflexible inte- 
 grity, his heavy sacrifices, had all but carried the Irish 
 question, have come forward to finish the good work, 
 and have reaped every kind of gratification from 
 doing their duty, instead of making a sacrifice of their 
 interests like him, would do well, while they usurp 
 all the glory of these successes, to recollect the men 
 whose labours, requited with proscription, led the way 
 to comparatively insignificant exertions, still more be- 
 neficial to the individuals that made them, than advan- 
 tageous to the cause they served. 
 
 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 thoroiigh 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 LORD GRENVILLE. 
 
 acquaintance with business in its principles and in its 
 details ; a complete masteiy of the science of politics, 
 as well theoretical as practical ; of late years a perfect 
 familiarity with political economy, and a just appre- 
 ciation of its importance ; an early and most extensive 
 knowledge of classical literature, which he improved 
 instead of abandoning, down to the 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, masculine, authoritative cast, which neg- 
 lected if it did not despise ornament, and partook in the 
 least possible degree of fancy, wliile its declamation 
 was often equally powerful with its reasoning and its 
 statement. 
 
 The faults of his character were akin to some of 
 the excellencies which so greatly distinguished it ; his 
 firmness was apt to degenerate into obstinacy ; his 
 confidence in the principles he held was not unmixed 
 with contempt for those who differed fi-om him. His 
 unbending honesty and straightforward course of deal- 
 ing with all men and all subjects not unfrequently led 
 hull to neglect those courtesies which facilitate political 
 and personal uitercoui'se, and that spirit of conciliation 
 which, especially in a mixed government chiefly con- 
 ducted by party, sometimes enables men to win a way 
 which they cannot force towards the attainment of im- 
 portant objects. Perhaps his most unfortunate preju- 
 dices were those which he had early imbibed upon cer- 
 tain matters of Ecclesiastical Polhy, and which the acci- 
 dental circumstance of his connexion with Oxford as 
 Chancellor strengthened to the exclusion of the re-
 
 LORD GRENVILLE. 259 
 
 forming spirit carried by him into all institutions of a 
 merely secular kind. Upon the Parliamentary con- 
 stitution of the country he had no such alarms or 
 scruples; and, although it is certain that he would 
 have reformed it much more gradually than the long 
 delay of the great measure rendered ultimately neces- 
 sary, it is equally clear that he would have stopped short 
 of no improvement which could be reasonably required, 
 merely because it was a change. For he was in this greatest 
 quality of a statesman pre-eminently distinguished, that, 
 as he neither would yield up his judgment to the 
 clamours of the people, nor suffer himself to be seduced 
 by the influence of the Court, so would he never sub- 
 mit his reason to the empire of prejudice, or own the 
 supremacy of authority and tradition. " Reliqui sunt, 
 qui mortui sunt — L. Torquatus, quem tu non tam cito 
 rhetorem dixisses, etsi non deerat oratio, quam, ut 
 Grseci dicunt ttoXitjxoV. Erant in eo plurimee litterse, 
 nee ese vulgares, sed interiores qusedam et reconditee, 
 divina memoria, summa verjjorum et gravitas et ele- 
 gantia : atque hgec omnia vitse decorabat dignitas et 
 integritas. Plena litteratse senectutis oratio. Quanta 
 severitas in vultu ! Quantum pondus in verbis ! 
 Quam nihil non consideratum exibat ex ore ! Sile- 
 amus de isto, ne augeamus dolorem. Nam et prseteri- 
 torum recordatio est acerba, et acerbior expectatio 
 reliquorum."* 
 
 * Cicero, Brutus, 266. 
 
 s2
 
 MR. GRATTAN. 
 
 The name which we mentioned as superior to even 
 Lord Grenville in services to the Irish question, recalls 
 to mind one of the greatest men of his age — Henry 
 Grattau. 
 
 It would not be easy to point out any statesman or 
 patriot, in any age of the world, whose fame stands 
 higher for his public services ; nor is it possible to name 
 any one, the purity of whose reputation has been stained 
 by so few faults, and the lustre of whose renown is 
 dimmed by so few imperfections. From the earliest 
 years at which he could appear upon the political stage, 
 he devoted hmiself to state affairs, ^^^lile yet in the 
 prime of youth, he had achieved a dctory which stands 
 at the head of all the triumphs ever won by a patriot for 
 his country in modei-n times ; he had effected an import- 
 ant revohition in the Government, without violence of 
 any kind, and had broken chains of the most degrading 
 kind, by which the injustice and usurpation of three cen- 
 turies had bound her down. Her immediate gratitude 
 placed him in a situation of independence, wliich enabled 
 hun to consecrate the remainder of liis days to her service, 
 without the interruption arising from professional pur- 
 suits ; and he continued to persevere in the same course 
 of patriotism marked by a rare union of the moderation 
 which springs from combmed wisdom and virtue, with 
 the firmness and the zeal which are peculiar to genius.
 
 MR. GRATTAN. 261 
 
 No factious partisan, making devotion to the public 
 cause a convenient and a safe mask for the attainment 
 of his selfish interests, whether of sordid avarice or of 
 crawling ambition, ever found in Grattan either an in- 
 strument or an accomplice. No true friend of the 
 people, inspu-ed with a generous desire of extirpating 
 abuses, and of extending the reign of freedom, ever com- 
 plained of Grattan's slowness to join the untarnished 
 banner of patriotism. No advocate of human improve- 
 ment, filled with the sacred zeal of enlarging the enjoy- 
 ments or elevating the condition of mankind, was ever 
 damped in his aspu-ations by Grattan's coldness, or had 
 reason to wish him less the advocate of Ireland and 
 more the friend of his species. 
 
 The principal battle which he fought for his native 
 coimtry required him to embrace every great and diffi- 
 cult question of domestic policy ; for the misrule and 
 oppression exercised by England over the Irish people 
 extended to all theii* conmiercial dealings, as well as 
 to their political rights, and sought to fetter their trade 
 by a complicated system of vexatious regulations, as 
 well as to awe their legislators by an assumption of 
 sovereignty, and to impose the fetters of a foreign juris- 
 diction upon the administration of justice itself. In no 
 part of this vast and various field were Mr. Grattan's 
 powers foiuid to fail, or his acquirements to prove defi- 
 cient ; and he handled the details of fiscal and of mercan- 
 tile policy with as much accuracy and as great address 
 as he brought to the discussion of the broader and easier 
 though more momentous subject — the great question 
 of National Independence. He was left, on the achieve- 
 ment of his great triumph, in possession of as brilliant
 
 262 MR. GRATTAN. 
 
 a reputation as man could desire ; and it was unsullied 
 by any one act either of factious violence, or of personal 
 meanness, or of the inconsistency into which o\-ermuch 
 vehemence in the pursuit of praiseworthy objects is wont 
 to betray even the most virtuous men. The popular 
 favour which he enjoyed to so unexampled a degree, and 
 in such unmeasured profusion, was in a short time des- 
 tuied to suffer an interruption, not unusual in the history 
 of popular leaders ; and for refusing to join in the de- 
 signs, of a more than doubtful origin, of men inferior in 
 reputation of eveiy kind, and of a more than doubtful 
 honesty — men who proscribed as imworthy of the people's 
 esteem all that acknowledged any restraints of modera- 
 tion — he lived to see himself denounced by the factious, 
 reviled by the unprincipled, and abandoned by their 
 dupes, the bulk of the very nation whose idol he had so 
 lately been. 
 
 The war mth France, and the fear of revolutionary 
 movements at home, rendered him for some years an 
 alarmist ; and he joined with those who supported the 
 hostilities into which Mr. Pitt and the Portland seceders 
 from the Whig party unhappily plunged the empire. 
 But he carried his suppoii: of arbitrary measures at home 
 a vei-y short way, compared with the new allies of the 
 Government in England ; and the proceedings of the 
 Irish Ministiy, during and after the Rebellion, found in 
 him an adversary as uncompromising as in the days of 
 his most strenuous patriotism, and most dazzling popu- 
 larity. Despakmg of success by any efforts of the party 
 in Parliament, he joined in the measure of secession 
 adopted by the English "Wliigs, but after a manner far 
 more reconcilable to a sense of public duty, as well as
 
 MR. GRATTAN. 268 
 
 far more effective in itself, than the absurd and incon- 
 sistent course which tliey pursued, of retaining the office 
 of representatives, while they refused to perform any of 
 its duties, except the enjoynient of its personal privi- 
 leges. Mr. Grattan and the leaders of the Irish oppo- 
 sition vacated their seats at once, and left their consti- 
 tuents to choose other delegates. When the Union was 
 propounded, they again returned to their posts, and 
 offered a resistance to that measure, which at first 
 proved successful, and deferred for a year tlie accom- 
 plishment of a measure planned in true wisdom, though 
 executed by most corrupt and corrupting means — a 
 measure as necessary for the well-being of Ireland as 
 for the security of tlie empire at large. He entered the 
 Imperial Parliament in 1S05, and continued, with the 
 exception of the question upon the renewal of the war 
 in 1815, a constant and most powerful coadjutor of the 
 Whig party, refusing office when they came into power 
 upon Mr. Pitt's death, but lending them a strenuous sup- 
 port upon all great questions^ whether of English policy 
 or of Irish, and showing himself most conspicuously above 
 the mean and narrow spirit that would confine a states- 
 man's exertions to the questions which interest one por- 
 tion of the empire, or with which his own fame in former 
 times may have been more peculiarly entwined. 
 
 Among the orators, as among the statesmen of his 
 age, Mr. Grattan occupies a place in the foremost rank ; 
 and it was the age of the Pitts, the Foxes, and the 
 Sheridans. His eloquence was of a very high order, all 
 but of the very highest, and it was emmently original. 
 In the constant stream of a diction replete with epigram 
 and point — a stream on which floated gracefully, be-
 
 264 MR. GRATTAN. 
 
 cause naturally, flowers of various hues, — ^\vas poured 
 forth the closest reasoning, the most luminous statement, 
 the most persuasive display of all the motives that could 
 influence, and of all tlie details that could enlighten, his 
 audience. Often a different strain was heard, and it 
 was declamatory and vehement — or pity was to be 
 moved, and its pathos \\as touching as it was simple — 
 or, above all, an adversary sunk in baseness, or covered 
 with crimes, was to be punished or to be destroyed, and 
 a stonn of the most terrible invective raged, with all the 
 blights of sarcasm, and the thunders of abuse. The 
 critic, led away for the moment, and imable to do 
 more than feel with the audience, could in those cases, 
 even when he came to reflect and to judge, find ofiten 
 nothuig to reprehend ; seldom in any case more than the 
 excess of epigram, which had yet become so natural to 
 the orator, that his argument and his narrative, and even 
 his sagacious unfolding of prmciples, seemed sponta- 
 neously to clothe themselves in the most pointed terse- 
 ness, and most apt and felicitous antitheses. From the 
 faults of his country's eloquence he was, generally speak- 
 ing, free. Occasionally an over fondness for vehement 
 expression, an exaggeration of passion, or an offensive 
 appeal to Heaven, might be noted ; very rarely a loaded 
 iise of figures, and, more rarely still, of figures broken 
 and mixed. But the perpetual striving after far-fetched 
 quaintness ; the disdaining to say any one thing m an 
 easy and natural style ; the contempt of that rule, as 
 true in rhetoric as in conduct, that it is wise to do 
 common things in the common way ; the affectation of 
 excessive feeling upon all things, without regard to their 
 relative hnportance ; the making any occasion, even the
 
 MR. GRATTAN. 265 
 
 most fitted to rouse genuine and natural feeling, a mere 
 opportunity of theatrical display — all these failings, by 
 which so many oratorical reputations have been blighted 
 among a people famous for their almost universal orato- 
 rical genius, were looked for in vain when Mr. Grattan 
 rose, whether in the senate of his native country, or in 
 that to which he was transferred by the Union. And if 
 he had some peculiarity of outward appearance, as a low 
 and awkward person, in which he resembled the first 
 of orators, and even of manner, in which he had not like 
 him made the defects of nature yield to severe culture ; 
 so had he one excellence of the very highest order, in 
 which he may be truly said to have left all the orators 
 of modern times behind — the severe abstinence which 
 rests satisfied with striking the decisive blow in a word 
 or two, not weakening its effect by repetition and ex- 
 pansion, — and another excellence higher still, in which 
 no orator of any age is his equal, the easy and copious 
 flow of most profound, sagacious, and original principles, 
 enunciated in terse and striking, but appropriate lan- 
 guage. To give a sample of this latter peculiarity would 
 be less easy, and would occupy more space ; but of the 
 former it may be truly said that Dante himself never 
 conjured up a striking, a pathetic, and an appropriate 
 image in fewer words than Mr. Grattan employed to 
 describe his relation towards Irish independence, when, 
 alluding to its rise in 1782, and its fall twenty years 
 later, he said, " I sat by its cradle— I followed its 
 hearse." 
 
 In private life he was without a stain, whether of 
 temper or of principle ; singularly amiable, as well as 
 of unblemished purity in all the relations of family and
 
 266 MR. GRATTAN. 
 
 of society ; of manners as full of generosity as they were 
 free fi-om affectation ; of conversation as much seasoned 
 with spirit and impregnated with knowledge as it was 
 void of all asperity and gall. Whoever heard him 
 in private society, and marked the calm tone of his 
 judicious coimsel, the profound wisdom of his saga- 
 cious observations, the unceasing felicity of his expres- 
 sions, the constant variety and brilliancy of his illustra- 
 tions, could well suppose that he had conversed with 
 the orator whose wit and whose wisdom enlightened 
 and guided the senate of his comitry ; but in the play- 
 ful hilarity of the companion, his unbroken serenity, liis 
 unruffled good nature, it would indeed have been a diffi- 
 cult thing to recognise the giant of debate, whose awful 
 energies had been hurled, nor yet exhausted, upon the 
 Corrys, the Duignans, and the Floods.* 
 
 The signal failure of the latter, when transplanted to 
 the English Parliament, suggests a reference to the same 
 passage in the life of Mr. Grattan. JNIen were variously 
 inclined to conjecture upon his probable success ; and 
 the singularity of his external appearance, and his 
 manner of speaking, as well as his action, so unusual in 
 
 * It is always a matter of difficulty to draw the character of a 
 person who belongs to another, and, in some particulars, a very dif- 
 ferent country. This has been felt in making the attempt to give a 
 sketch of Mr. Grattan ; and whoever has read the most lively and 
 picturesque piece of biography that was ever given to the world, Mr. 
 C. Phillips' Recollections of Curran, will join in the regret here ex- 
 pressed, that the present work did not fall into hands so able to 
 perform it in a masterly manner. The constant occupation conse- 
 quent upon great professional eminence, has unfortunately withdrawn 
 him from the walks of literature, in which he was so remarkably 
 fitted to shine.
 
 MR. GRATTAN. 267 
 
 the English Parliament, made the event doubtful, for 
 some time, during his speech of 1805. Nor were there 
 wanting those surrounding ]Mr. Pitt who foretold " that 
 it would not do." That great debater and experienced 
 judge is said to have for some moments partaken of these 
 doubts, when the happy execution of some passage, not 
 perhaps marked by the audience at large, at once dis- 
 pelled them ; and he pronounced to his neighbours an 
 authoritative and decisive sentence, which the unani- 
 mous voice of the House and of the country foilhwith 
 affirmed. 
 
 This illustrious patriot died a few days after his 
 arrival in London, at the beginning of June 1820, 
 having come with the greatest difficulty, and in a dying 
 state, to attend his Parliamentary duties. A request 
 was made to his family, that his remains might be buried 
 in Westminster Abbey, instead of being conveyed for 
 interment to Ireland ; and this having been complied with, 
 the obsequies were attended by all the more distinguished 
 members of both Houses of Parliament. The following- 
 Letter containmg the request was signed by the leaders 
 of the liberal party. The beauty of its chaste composi- 
 tion was much and justly admired at the time ; but little 
 wonder was excited by it, when the author came to be 
 known. It proceeded from the pen of one of the great- 
 est poets whom this country has produced, as well as 
 one of its finest prose writers ; who to this unstable fame 
 adds the more imperishable renown of being also one of the 
 most honourable men, and most uncompromising friends 
 of civil and religious liberty, who have appeared in any 
 age. The rare felicity of our times, in possessing two 
 individuals to whom this description might be applied, —
 
 268 MR. GRATTAN. 
 
 Rogers and Campbell, — alone makes it necessary to 
 add that the former is here meant. 
 
 " TO THE SONS OF MR. GRATTAN. 
 
 " Filled with veneration for the character of your 
 father, we venture to express a wish, common to us 
 with many of those who most admired and loved him, 
 that what remains of him should be allowed to continue 
 among us. 
 
 " It has pleased Divine Providence to deprive the 
 empire of his services, while he was here in the neigh- 
 bourhood of that sacred edifice where great men from 
 all parts of the Ba-itish dominions have been for ages 
 interred. We are desirous of an opportunity of joining 
 in the due honour to tried vu-tue and genius, Mr. 
 Grattan belongs to us also, and great would be our 
 consolation were we permitted to follow him to the 
 grave, and to place him where he would not have been 
 imwilling to lie — by the side of liis illustrious fellow- 
 labourers in the cause of freedom."
 
 -Zliyrural ^ X. S^iftn 
 
 Wir]L]BMa'OECE. 
 
 /.■ .■'■' .■-' 
 
 /.t'KtLvti^'f'liyfiMl bj .hjrU.* Kti,fhi ,f t' LuJ^taU' Str,-rt
 
 MR. WILBERFORCE. 
 
 Contemporary with Lord Grenville and Mr. Pitt, 
 whose intimate friend he was, and whose partisan for a 
 time, appeared a man, in some respects more ilkistrious 
 than either — one who, among the greatest benefactors 
 of the human race, holds an exalted station — one whose 
 genius was elevated by his virtues, and exalted by his 
 piety. It is, unfortunately, hardly necessary to name 
 one whom the vices and the follies of the age have 
 already particularised, by making it impossible that what 
 has been said could apply to any but Wilberforce. 
 
 Few persons have ever either reached a higher and 
 more enviable place in the esteem of their fellow crea- 
 tures, or have better deserved the place they had gained, 
 than William Wilberforce. He was naturally a person 
 of great quickness and even subtilty of mind, with a 
 lively imagination, approaching to playfulness of fancy ; 
 and hence he had wit in an unmeasured abundance, and 
 in all its varieties ; for he was endowed with an exquisite 
 sense of the ludicrous in character, the foundation of 
 humour, as well as with the perception of remote re- 
 semblances, the essence of wit. These qualities, how- 
 ever, he had so far disciplined his faculties as to keep in 
 habitual restraint, lest he should ever oiFend against strict 
 decorum, by introducing light matter into serious discus- 
 sion, or be betrayed into personal remarks too poignant 
 for the feelings of individuals. For his nature was mild
 
 270 MR. WILBERFORCE. 
 
 and amiable beyond that of most men ; fearful of giving 
 the least pain in any quarter, even wliile heated with the 
 zeal of controversy on questions that roused all his pas- 
 sions ; and more anxious, if it were possible, to gain over 
 rather than to overpower an adversary and disann him 
 by kindness, or the force of reason, or awakening appeals 
 to liis feelings, rather than defeat hun by hostile attack. 
 His natural talents were cultivated, and liis taste refined 
 by all the resources of a complete Cambridge education, 
 in wliich, wliile the classics were sedulously studied, the 
 mathematics were not neglected ; and he enjoyed in the 
 society of his intimate friends, INIr. Pitt and Dean Milner, 
 the additional benefit of foreign travel, having passed 
 nearly a year in France, after the dissolution of Lord 
 Shelburne's administration had removed JNIr. Pitt from 
 office. Having entered parliament as member for Hull, 
 where his family were the principal commercial men of 
 the place, he soon aftenvards, upon the ill-fated coalition 
 destroying all confidence in the Whig pai-ty, succeeded 
 ]\Ir. Foljambe as member for Yorkshke, which he con- 
 tinued to represent as long as Ids health permitted him, 
 having only rethed to a less laborious seat in the year 
 1812. Although generally attached to the Pitt ministry, 
 he pursued his course wholly unfettered by pai-ty con- 
 nexion, steadily refused aU office through his whole life, 
 nor would lay himself under any obligations by accept- 
 ing a share of patronage ; and he differed with his illus- 
 trious friend upon the two most critical emergencies of 
 his hfe, the question of peace mth Finance in 1795, and 
 the impeachment of Lord Melville ten years later. 
 
 His eloquence was of the highest order. It was per- 
 suasive and pathetic in an eminent degree ; but it was
 
 MR. WILBERFORCE. 271 
 
 occasionally bold and impassioned, animated with the 
 inspiration which deep feeling alone can breathe into 
 spoken thought, chastened l)y a pure taste, varied by ex- 
 tensive information, enriched by classical allusion, some- 
 times elevated by the more sublime topics of holy writ 
 — the thoughts and the spirit 
 
 " That touched Isaiah's hallow'd lips with fire." 
 
 Few passages can be cited in the oratory of modern 
 times of a more electrical effect than the singularly 
 felicitous and striking allusion to Mr. Pitt's resisting the 
 torrent of Jacobin principles : — " He stood between the 
 living and the dead, and the plague was stayed." The 
 singular kindness, the extreme gentleness of his dis- 
 position, wholly free from gall, from vanity, or any 
 selfish feeling, kept him from indulging in any of the 
 vituperative branches of rhetoric; but a memorable 
 instance showed that it was anytliing rather than the want 
 of power which held him oiF from the use of the wea- 
 pons so often in almost all other men's hands. When 
 a well-known po])ular meml^er thought fit to designate 
 him repeatedly, and very irregularly, as the " Honour- 
 able and religious gentleman," not because he was 
 ashamed of the Cross he gloried in, but because he felt 
 indignant at any one in the British senate deeming piety 
 a matter of imputation, he poured out a strain of sarcasm 
 which none who heard it can ever forget. A common 
 friend of the parties having remarked to Sir Samuel Ro- 
 milly, beside whom he sat, that this greatly outmatched 
 Pitt himself, the great master of sarcasm, the reply of 
 that great man and just observer, was worthy to be re- 
 marked, — " Yes," said he, " it is the most striking thing
 
 272 MR. WILBERFORCE. 
 
 I almost ever heard ; but I look upon it as a more sin- 
 gular proof of Wilberforce's virtue than of his genius, 
 for who but he ever was possessed of such a formidable 
 weapon, and never used it ?" 
 
 Against all these accomplishments of a finished orator 
 there was little to set on the other side. A feeble 
 constitution, which made him say, all his life, that he 
 never was either well or ill ; a voice sweetly musical 
 beyond that of most men, and of great compass also, 
 but sometimes degenerating into a whine ; a figure 
 exceedingly undignified and ungraceful, though the 
 features of the face were singularly expressive ; and a 
 want of condensation, in the latter years of his life, espe- 
 cially, lapsing into digression, and ill calculated for a 
 very business-like audience like the House of Commons 
 — these may be noted as the only drawbacks which kept 
 him out of the very first place among the first speakers of 
 his age, whom, in pathos, and also in graceful and easy and 
 perfectly elegant diction, as well as harmonious periods, 
 he unquestionably excelled. The influence which the 
 Member for Yorkshire always commanded in the old Par- 
 liament — the great weight which the head, indeed, the 
 founder, of a powerful religious sect, possessed in the 
 country — ^would have given extraordmary authority in 
 the senate to one of far inferior personal endowments. 
 But when these partly accidental circumstances were 
 added to his powers, and when the whole were used and 
 applied with the habits of industry which naturally be- 
 longed to one of his extreme temperance in every re- 
 spect, it is difficult to imagine any one bringing a greater 
 force to the aid of any cause which he might espouse. 
 
 Wherefore, when he stood foi-ward as the leader of
 
 MR. WILBERFORCE. 273 
 
 the Abolition, vowed implacable war against Slavery and 
 the Slave Trade, and consecrated his life to the accom- 
 plisliment of its destruction, there was every advantage 
 conferred upon this great cause, and the rather that he 
 held himself aloof from party connexion. A few per- 
 sonal friends, united with him by similarity of religious 
 opinions, might be said to form a small party, and they 
 generally acted in concert, especially in all matters relat- 
 ing to the Slave question. Of these, Henry Thornton 
 was the most eminent in every respect. He was a man 
 of strong understanding, great powers of reasoning and 
 of investigation, an accurate and a curious observer, but 
 who neither had cultivated oratory at all, nor had re- 
 ceived a refined education, nor liad extended his reading 
 beyond the subjects connected with moral, political, and 
 theological learning. The trade of a banker, which he 
 followed, engrossed much of his time ; and his exertions, 
 both in Parliament and through the press, were chiefly 
 confined to the celebrated controversy upon the currency, 
 in which his well-known work led the way, and to a bill 
 for restricting the Slave Trade to part of the African 
 coast, which he introduced when the Abolitionists were 
 wearied out with their repeated failures, and had well- 
 nigh abandoned all hopes of carrying the great measure 
 itself. That measure was fated to imdergo much vex- 
 atious delay, nor is there any great question of justice 
 and policy, the history of which is less creditable to the 
 British Parliament, or, indeed, to some of the statesmen 
 of this country, although upon it mainly rests the fame 
 of others. 
 
 When Mr. Wilberforce, following in Mr. Clarkson's 
 track, had, with matchless powers of eloquence, sustained 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 MR. WILBERFORCE. 
 
 by a body of the clearest evidence, unveiled all the hor- 
 rors of a traffic, which, had it been attended with neither 
 fraud nor cruelty of any kind, was, confessedly, from 
 beginning to end, not a commerce, but a crime, he was 
 defeated by large majorities, year after year. When, 
 at length, for the first time, in 1804, he carried the 
 Abolition Bill through the Commons, the Lords imme- 
 diately threw it out ; and the next year it was again lost 
 in the Commons. All this happened while the opinion 
 of the country was, with the single exception of persons 
 having West India connexions, unanimous in favour of 
 the measure. At diflferent times there was the strongest 
 and most general expression of public feeling upon the 
 subject, and it was a question upon which no two men, 
 endowed with reason, could possibly differ, because, ad- 
 mittmg whatever could be alleged about the profits of 
 the traffic, it was not denied that the gain proceeded 
 from pillage and murder. Add to all this, that the enor- 
 mous evil continued to disgrace the country and its le- 
 gislature for twenty years, although the voice of every 
 statesman of any eminence, Mr. Windham alone ex- 
 cepted, was strenuously lifted against it, — although, 
 upon this only question, Pitt, Fox, and Burke heartily 
 agreed, — although by far the finest of all IMr. Pitt's 
 speeches were those which he pronounced against it, — 
 and although every press and every pulpit in the island 
 habitually cried it down. How are we, then, to account 
 for the extreme tenacity of life which the hateful reptile 
 showed ? How to explain the fact that all those power- 
 ful hands fell paralysed and could not bring it to death ? 
 If little honour redounds to the Parliament from this pas- 
 sage in our history, and if it is thus plainly shown that
 
 MR. WILBERFORCE. 275 
 
 the unreformed House of Commons but ill represented 
 the country ; it must also be confessed that Mr. Pitt's 
 conduct gains as little glory from the retrospect. How 
 could he, who never suffered any of his coadjutors, much 
 less his underlings in office, to thwart his will even in 
 trivial matters — he who would have cleared any of the 
 departments of half their occupants, had they presumed 
 to have an opinion of their own upon a single item of any 
 budget, or an article in the year's estimates — how could 
 he, after shaking the walls of the Senate with the thun- 
 ders of his majestic eloquence, exerted with a zeal which 
 set at defiance all suspicions of his entire sincerity, 
 quietly suffer, that the object, just before declared the 
 dearest to his heart, should be ravished from him when 
 within his sight, nay, within his reach, by the votes of 
 the secretaries and under-secretaries, the puisne lords 
 and the other fry of mere placemen,— the pawns of his 
 boards ? It is a question often anxiously put by the 
 friends of the Abolition, never satisfactorily answered 
 by those of the Muiister ; and if any additional com- 
 ment were wanting on the darkest passage of his life, 
 it is supplied by the ease with which he cut off the Slave 
 traffic of the conquered colonies, an importation of thirty 
 thousand yearly, which he had so long suffered to exist, 
 though an order in Council could any day have extin- 
 guished it. This he never thought of till 1805, and then, 
 of course, the instant he chose, he destroyed it for ever 
 with a stroke of his pen. Again, when the Whigs were 
 in power, they found the total abolition of the traffic 
 so easy, that the measure in pursuing which Mr. Pitt 
 had for so many long years allowed himself to be baffled, 
 was carried by them with only sixteen dissentient voices 
 
 t2
 
 276 MR. WILBERFORCE. 
 
 in a house of 250 members. There can then, unhappily, 
 be but one answer to the question regarding INIr. Pitt's 
 conduct on this great measure. He was, no doubt, 
 quite sincere, but he was not so zealous as to risk any- 
 thing, to sacrifice anything, or even to give himself any 
 extraordinary trouble for the accomplishment of his 
 purpose. The Court was decidedly against abolition ; 
 George III. always regarded the question with abhor- 
 rence, as savouring of innovation, — and innovation in a 
 part of his empire, connected with his earliest and most 
 rooted prejudices, — the Colonies. The courtiers took, 
 as is their wont, the colour of their sentiments from him. 
 The Peers were of the same opinion. Mr. Pitt had not 
 the enthusiasm for right and justice, to risk in their be- 
 half losing the friendship of the mammon of unrighteous- 
 ness, and he left to his rivals, when they became his suc- 
 cessors, the glory of that triumph in the sacred cause of 
 humanity, which should have illustrated his name, who 
 in its defence had raised all the strains of his eloquence 
 to their very highest pitch.
 
 GEORGE CAMMIM©. 
 
 Qj7/t^?n' ay-yA'C^e^^vK Q^c^ ^^^^^na^jXat 
 
 ^-auf^^■n/:fy■
 
 MR. CANNING. 
 
 When Mr. Pitt stood against the united powers of 
 the coalition by the support of the country and the 
 people, in debate he had only Mr. Dundas, and occa- 
 sionally Mr. Wilberforce, to whom he could look 
 for assistance while attacked by Fox, Burke, North, 
 Sheridan, Erskine, Windham. But a younger race 
 aftenvards grew up and came to his assistance ; and 
 of these Mr. Canning was undoubtedly the first. He 
 was, in all respects, one of the most remarkable per- 
 sons vvlio have lived in our times. Born with talents 
 of the highest order, these had been cultivated with au 
 assiduity and success which placed him in the first rank 
 among the most accomplished scholars of his day ; and 
 he was only inferior to others in the walks of science, 
 from the accident of the studies whicli Oxford cherislied 
 in his time being pointed almost exclusively to clas- 
 sical pursuits. But he was anything rather than a 
 mere scholar. In him were combined, with a rich 
 profusion, tlie most lively original fancy — a happily re- 
 tentive and ready memory — singular powers of lucid 
 statement — and occasionally wit in all its varieties, now 
 biting and sarcastic to overwhelm an antagonist — now 
 pungent or giving point to an argument — now playful 
 for mere amusement, and bringing relief to a tedious 
 statement, or lending a charm to dry chains of close 
 reasoning — Erant ea in Philippo quae, qui sine com- 
 paratione illoruni spectaret, satis magna dixerit ; sum-
 
 278 MR. CANNING. 
 
 ma libei'tas in oratione, multee facetiae ; satis ci-eber in 
 reprehendeudis, solutus in explicaudis sententiis ; erat 
 etiam imprimis, ut temporibus illis, Grsecis doctrinis 
 institutus, in altercando cum aliquo acculeo et male- 
 dicto facetus. — fCic, Brutus.) Superficial observers 
 dazzled by this brilliancy, and by its sometimes being 
 over-indulged, committed their accustomed mistake, 
 and supposed that he who could thus adorn his subject 
 was an amusing speaker only, while he was helping 
 on the argument at every step, — often making skilful 
 statements perform the office of reasoning, and oftener 
 still seeming to be witty when he was merely exposing 
 the weakness of hostile positions, and thus taking them 
 by the artillery of his wit. But in truth his powers of 
 ordinary reasoning were of a very high order, and could 
 not be excelled by the most practised master of dialect- 
 ics. It was rather in the deep and full measure of 
 impassioned declamation in its legitimate combination 
 with rapid argument, the liighest reach of oratory, 
 that he failed ; and this he rarely attempted. Of his 
 powers of argumentation. Ids capacity for the pursuits 
 of abstract science, his genius for adorning the least 
 attractive subjects, there remains an imperishable re- 
 cord in his celebrated speeches upon the " Currency," 
 of all his efiforts the most brilliant and the most 
 happy. 
 
 This great man was the slave of no mean or paltry 
 passions, but a lofty ambition inspii'ed him ; and had he 
 not too early become trained to official habits, he would 
 have avoided the distuiguisliing error of his life, an im- 
 pression which clung to him from the desk, that no 
 one can usefully serve his country, or etfectuallv further
 
 MR. CANNING. 279 
 
 his principles, unless he possesses the power wliicli 
 place alone bestows. The traces of this belief are to 
 be seen in many of the most remarkable passages of his 
 life ; and it even appears in the song with which he 
 celebrated the praise of his illustrious leader and friend ; 
 for he treats as a fall his sacrificing power to principle, 
 at a time when Ijy retiring from office Mr. Pitt had 
 earned the applause of millions. Mr. Canning himself 
 gave an example yet more signal of abandoning office 
 rather than tarnish his fame ; and no act of his life can 
 be cited which sheds a greater lustre on his menioiy. 
 
 In private society he was singularly amiable and 
 attractive, though, except for a very few yeai-s of his 
 early youth, he rarely frequented the circles of society, 
 confining his intercourse to an extremely small number 
 of warmly attached friends.* In all the relations of 
 domestic life he was blameless, and was the delight of 
 his family, as in them he placed his own.f His temper, 
 though naturally irritable and uneasy, had nothing 
 
 * It is necessary to state this undoubted fact, that the folly of 
 those may be rebuked, who have chosen to represent him as " a great 
 diner-out." It may be safely affirmed that none of those historians of 
 the day ever once saw him at table. 
 
 t It is well known how much more attachment was conceived for 
 his memory by his family and his devoted personal friends, thun by 
 his most stanch political adherents. The friendships of statesmen 
 are proverbially of rotten texture j but it is doubtful if ever this rot- 
 tenness was displayed in a more disgusting manner than when the 
 puny men of whose nostrils he had been the breath, joined his worst 
 enemies as soon as they had laid him in the grave. It was said 
 by one hardly ever related to him but in open hostility, that 
 " the gallantry of his kindred had rescued his memory from the 
 offices of his friends," — in allusion to Lord Clanricardc's most pow- 
 erful and touching appeal on that disgraceful occasion.
 
 280 MR. CANNING. 
 
 petty or spiteful in it ; and as no one better knew how 
 and when to resent an injury, so none could more readily 
 or more gracefully forgive. 
 
 It is supposed that, from his early acquaintance with 
 Mr. Sheridan and one or two other Wliigs, he originally 
 had a leaning towards that side of the question. But 
 he entered into public life at a very early age, imder 
 the auspices of Mr. Pitt, to whom he continued steadily 
 attached till his deatli ; accompanying him when he re- 
 tired from power, and again quitting office upon his 
 decease. His principles were throughout those of a 
 liberal Tory, above the prej udices of the bigots who have 
 rendered Torjism ridiculous, and free from the corrup- 
 tion that has made it hatefiil. Iml)ued with a wann 
 attachment to the ancient institutions of the country, 
 somewhat apt to overrate the merits of mere antiquity, 
 fi'om his classical habits, and from early association, he 
 ne\ertheless partook largely in the improved spirit of the 
 age, and adopted all refoiTOS, except such as he consci- 
 entiously believed were only dictated l)y a restless love of 
 change, and could do no good, or such as went too far, 
 and tlu-eatened revolution. But this n-as the posture 
 into whicli his opinions and principles may be said ulti- 
 mately to have subsided — these the bearings of his mind 
 towards the great objects of political controversy in the 
 station wliich it finally took when the tempest of French 
 convulsion had ceased, and statesmen were moored ui 
 still water. He began his career ui the most troublous 
 period of the storm ; and it happened to hun, as to all 
 men, that the tone of his sentiments upon state affairs 
 was very nnich influenced through after times by the 
 events which first awakened his ambition, or directed Iiis
 
 MR. CANNING. 281 
 
 earliest pursuit of glory. The atrocities of the French 
 Jacobins — the thoiiehtless violence of the extreme demo- 
 cratic party in this country, reduced by those atrocities 
 to a small body — the spirit of aggression which the con- 
 duct of her neighl)ours had first roused in France, 
 and which unexampled victories soon raised to a pitch 
 that endangered all national independence — led Air. 
 Canning, with many others who naturally were friendly 
 to liberty, into a course of hostility towards all change, 
 because they became accustomed to confound reform with 
 revolution, and to dread nothing so much as the mis- 
 chiefs which popular violence had produced in France, 
 and with which the march of French conquests threat- 
 ened to desolate Europe. Thus it came to pass that 
 the most vigorous and the most active portion of his 
 life was passed in opposing all reforms ; in patronising 
 the measures of coercion into which Mr. Pitt had, so 
 imhappily for his fame and for his country, been 
 seduced by the alarms of weak, and by the selfish 
 schemes of unprincipled men ; and in resisting the at- 
 tempts which the friends of peace persevered to make 
 for terminating hostilities, so long the curse, and still by 
 their fruits the bane of this empire. 
 
 It was not till the end of the war that his natural 
 good sense had its free scope, and he became aware 
 of the difference between Reforms, of which he ad- 
 mitted tlie necessity, and Revolution, against all risk of 
 which he anxiously guarded. He had early joined 
 Mr. Pitt on the Catholic question, and, while yet the 
 war raged, he had rendered incalculable service to 
 the cause of Emancipation, by devoting to it some of 
 his most l)rilliant displays in the House of Commons.
 
 282 MR. CANNING. 
 
 This, with the accident of a contested election in a 
 great town bringing him more in contact with po- 
 pular feelings and opinions, contributed to the liberal 
 course of policy on almost all subjects, which he after- 
 wards pursued. Upon one only question he continued 
 firm and unbending ; he was the most uncompromising 
 adversary of all Parliamentary Reform, — resisting even 
 the least change in the representative system, and hold- 
 ing that alteration once begun was fatal to its integrity.* 
 This opposition to reform became the main charac- 
 teristic of the Canning party, and it regulated their 
 conduct on almost all questions. Before 1831, no ex- 
 ception can be perceived in their hostility to reform, 
 unless their differing with the Duke of Wellington on 
 East Retford can be regarded as such ; but, in truth, 
 their avowed reason for supporting that most insigni- 
 ficant measure was, tli.it the danger of a real and effec- 
 tual reform might thereby be warded off. The friends 
 of Mr. Canning, including Lords Palmerston and 
 Glenelg, who, in 1818, had been joined by Lord Mel- 
 bourne,f continued steady to the same principles, until 
 
 * During the short period of his brilliant administration, the 
 question of disfranchising a burgh, convicted of gross corruption, 
 gave rise to the only difference between him and Mr. Brougham, who 
 was understood to have mainly contributed towards that junction of 
 the Whigs and liberal Tories which dissolved and scattered the old 
 and high Tory party ; and a division took place in which Mr. Can- 
 ning was defeated. 
 
 t Lord Melbourne differed with the rest of the Canning party on 
 this point. He always opposed Reform, but held that if any was to 
 be granted, it must be in an ample measure ; and he did not vote with 
 them, but with the government, on the Reform question, although he 
 resigned with them upon that occasion.
 
 MR. CANNING. 283 
 
 happily, on the formation of Lord Grey's government, 
 they entirely changed their course, and became the 
 advocates, with their reforming colleagues, of a change, 
 compared to which the greatest reforms ever contem- 
 plated by Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox, or denounced by Mr, 
 Burke and Mr. Canning, hardly deserve to be classed 
 among measures of innovation. No one can pronounce 
 with perfect confidence on the conduct which any states- 
 man would have pursued, had he survived the times in 
 which he flourished. But if such an opinion may ever 
 with safety be formed, it seems to be in the present 
 case ; and it would require far more boldness to sur- 
 mise that Mr. Canning, or even Mr. Huskisson, would 
 have continued in the government after the 1st of 
 March, 1831, than to aflirm that nothing could ever 
 have induced such an alteration in their most fixed 
 opinions upon so momentous a question. 
 
 But while such was the strength of his opinions, 
 — prejudices as they seem, — on one great subject, on 
 almost all other matters, whether of foreign or do- 
 mestic policy, his views were liberal, and suited to the 
 spirit of the age, while he was a firm supporter of the 
 established constitution of the country. If ever man 
 was made for the service and the salvation of a party, 
 Mr. Canning seemed to have been raised up for that of 
 the Tories : if ever party committed a fatal error, it was 
 their suffering groundless distrust, and unintelligible 
 dislikes to estrange him from their side. At a time 
 when nothing but his powerful arm could recall unity 
 to their camp, and save them from impending destruction, 
 they not merely wilfully kindled the wrath of Achilles, 
 but resolved that he should no longer fight on their
 
 284 MR. CANNING. 
 
 side, and determined to throw away their last chance 
 of winning the l)attle. To him they by general assent 
 preferred Lord Castlereagh as their leader, without a 
 single shining quality except the carriage and the man- 
 ners of high birth : while IMr. Canning, but for his acci- 
 dental death, would have ended his life as governor of 
 a country where men neither debate, nor write ; where 
 eloquence evaporates in scores of paragraphs, and the 
 sparkling of wit and the cadence of rhyme are alike 
 unknown. 
 
 The defects of IN'Ir. Canning's character or of his 
 genius were not many, nor those difficult to discover. 
 His irritable temper has been noted ; he had a love of 
 trifling and a fondness for indulging in pleasantry, more 
 injurious to his estimation with ordinary men than his 
 temper. Nothing could be more natural than that 
 one who so much excelled others in these lighter, more 
 brilliant, but hardly attainable qualities, should be prone 
 to exercise them over-much ; but they greatly marred 
 the effect of his more solid and unportant talents. Above 
 all, they enlarged the circle of his enemies, and occa- 
 sionally transferred to it the friends whom they lost him. 
 With the connnon run of ordinary mortals, who conijiose 
 the mass of every country — with the plainer sort of men 
 who form the bulk of every audience, and who especially 
 bear sway in their own appointed place, the assembly 
 that represents the English people, — it would have been 
 contrary to nature if one so lively, so fond of his joke, 
 so cai-eless whom his merriment might offend, so ready 
 to turn the general laugh against any victim, — had been 
 popular, nay, luul failed to prove the object of suspi- 
 cion, and even dislike. The duller portion, over whose
 
 MR. CANNING. 285 
 
 heads his lighter missiles flew, were offended with one 
 who spoke so liofhtly ; it was ahnost personal to them if 
 he jested, and a classical allusion was next thing to 
 an affront. " He ^vill be laughing at the quorum or 
 talking metaphysics next," said the squu-e, representing a 
 county. But even they who emulated him and favoured 
 his claims, did not much like the man who had made them 
 so merry, for they felt what it was tint they laughed at, 
 and it might be their own turn to-morrow. 
 
 That his oratory suffered materially from this self- 
 indulgent habit, so hard to resist by him who possesses 
 the faculty of amusing his audience, and can scarcely 
 pause at the moment that he is exerting it successfully, 
 it would be incorrect to affirm. The graver parts of his 
 discourse were perfectly sustained ; they were unmixed 
 with ribaldry ; they were quite as powerful in themselves 
 as if they had not stood out from the inferior matter and 
 had not soared above it. There is no doubt, however, 
 that with an unreflecting audience, their effect was some- 
 what confused by the cross lights which the wit, some- 
 times bordering upon drollery, shot over the canvass. But 
 his declamation, though often powerful, always beauti- 
 fully ornate, never deficient in admirable diction, was cer- 
 tainly not of the very highest class. It wanted depth : it 
 came from the mouth, not from the heart ; and it tickled 
 or even filled the ear rather than penetrated the bosom of 
 the listener. The orator never seemed to forget himself 
 and be absorbed in his theme ; he was not carried away 
 by his passions, and he carried not his audience along 
 with him. An actor stood before us, a first-rate one no 
 doubt, but still an actor ; and we never forgot that it was 
 a representation we were witnessing, not a real scene.
 
 286 MR. CANNING. 
 
 The Grecian artist was of the second class only, at whose 
 fruit the birds pecked ; while, on seeing Parrhasius' pic- 
 ture, men cried out to draw aside the curtain. ]Mr. 
 Canning's declamation entertained liis hearers, so artistly 
 was it executed ; but only an inexperienced critic could 
 mistake it for the highest reach of the rhetorical art. 
 The truly great orator is he who carries away his hearer, 
 or fixes his whole attention on the subject — with the sub- 
 ject fills his whole soul — than the subject, will suffer him 
 to think of no other thing — of the subject's existence 
 alone will let him be conscious, while the vehement in- 
 spiration lasts on his own mind which he communicates 
 to his hearer — and mil only suffer hun to reflect on the 
 admirable execution of what he has heard after the burst 
 is over, the whirlwind has passed away, and the excited 
 feelings have in the succeeding lull sunk into repose. 
 
 The vice of this statesman's public principles was 
 much more pernicious in its influence upon liis public 
 conduct than the defects which we have just remarked 
 were upon his oratorj'. Bred up in office from liis early 
 years, he had become so much accustomed to its plea- 
 sures that he felt uneasy when they were taken from liim. 
 It was in him nothing like a sordid propensity that 
 produced tliis frame of mind. For emolument, he felt 
 the most entire indifference : upon the management of 
 petty intrigue which is called jobbing, he looked down 
 with sovereign contempt. But his extraordinarily active 
 mind, impatient of rest, was only to be allayed by oc- 
 cupation, and office afforded this at all hours, and in 
 boundless measure. His kind and friendly nature, 
 attaching him strongly to his associates, as it strongly 
 fixed their affections upon him, made him feel uneasy
 
 MR. CANNING. 287 
 
 at their exclusion from power, and desirous to pos- 
 sess the means of gratifying them. Above all, though 
 a great debater, and breathing the air of Parlia- 
 ment as the natural element of his being, he yet was 
 a man of action too, and would sway the counsels as 
 M'ell as shake the senates of his country. He loved 
 debate for its exercise of his great faculties ; he loved 
 power for its own sake, caring far less for display than 
 for gratification. Hence, when he retired from office 
 upon the dispute with Lord Castlereagh, (a passage of his 
 life much and unjustly blamed at the time, but which 
 had it been ever so exactly as most men then viewed it, 
 has in later times been cast into the thickest shades of 
 oblivion by acts infinitely more abominable and dis- 
 graceful,) and when he found that instead of a speedy 
 return to power he was condemned to years of exclusion, 
 his impatience led him to the imprudent step of serving 
 under his successful rival on a foreign mission of an un- 
 important cast. The uneasiness which he manifestly suf- 
 fered in retirement, even made him consent to the scheme 
 of more permanent expatriation,* which only the un- 
 happy death of Lord Castlereagh prevented from taking 
 effect. But these were rather matters affecting the per- 
 son than perverting the principles, or misguiding the con- 
 duct of the party. The unfortunate love of power, car- 
 ried too far, and felt so as to make the gratification of 
 it essential to existence, is ruinous to the character of 
 a statesman. It leads often to abandonment of prin- 
 ciple, constantly to compromise ; it subjects him to 
 frequent dependence ; it lowers the tone of his mind, 
 and teaches his spirit to feed on the bitter bread of 
 
 * As Governor-General of India.
 
 288 MR. CANNING. 
 
 other's bounty ; above all, it occasionally severs him 
 from his natural friends, and brings him acquainted 
 with strange and low associates, whose natures, as 
 their habits, are fit to be scorned by him, and who have 
 with him but one thing in common, that they seek the 
 same object with himself— they for love of gain, he for 
 lust of dominion. 
 
 Tu lascerai ogni cosa diletta 
 
 Piu caramente, t5 questo e quelle strale 
 
 Che r arco d' esilio pria saetta, 
 
 Tu proverai come si sa di sale 
 
 Lo pane d' altrui, t5 come t' duro calle 
 
 Lo scendere t! il salir altrui scale 
 
 E che il piu ti gravera le spalle 
 
 Sara la compagnia malvagia 6 scempia 
 
 Che tu vedrai in questa valle !* 
 
 Men are apt to devise ingenious excuses for those 
 failings which they cherish most fondly, and if they 
 cannot close their eyes to them, had rather defend 
 than correct. IMr. Canning reasoned himself into a 
 belief which he was wont to profess, that no man can 
 serve his country with effect out of office ; as if there 
 were no public in this country ; as if there were no 
 Parliament ; no forum ; no press ; as if the Govern- 
 ment were in the hands of a Vizier to whom the Turk 
 had given his signet-ring, or a favourite to whom the 
 Czarina had tossed her handkerchief; as if the patriot's 
 vocation had ceased and the voice of public vu-tue were 
 heard no more ; as if the people were without power 
 over their rulers, and only existed to be taxed and to 
 obey ! A more pernicious notion never entered the 
 mind of a public man, nor one more fitted to under- 
 
 * Dante, Par.
 
 MR. CANNING. 289 
 
 mine his pul)lic virtue. It may be made the cloak for 
 eveiy species of flagitious and sordid calculation ; and 
 what in him was only a sophistical self-deception, or a 
 mere illusion of dangerous self-love, might have been, 
 by the common herd of trading politicians, used as the 
 cover for every low, and despicable, and unprincipled 
 artifice. No errors are so dangerous as those false 
 theories of morals which conceal the bounds between 
 right and wrong ; enable Vice to trick herself out in the 
 attire of Virtue ; and hide our frailties from ourselves by 
 throwing around them the garb of profound wisdom. 
 
 Of Mr. Canning it may be justly observed, as of Mr. 
 Fox, that whatever errors he committed on other ques- 
 tions, on the Abolition of the Slave Trade he was unde- 
 viatingly true to sound principles and enlightened policy. 
 Respecting the questions connected with Emancipation 
 his course was by no means so commendable ; but of the 
 Abolitionists he was at once a strenuous and effective 
 ally. It is understood that he deeply lamented the con- 
 trast which Mr. Pitt's proceedings on this question 
 presented to his speeches ; and he insisted on bringing 
 forward amotion against the policy of capturing colonies 
 to extend the Slave-traffic, when Mr. Pitt was in re- 
 tirement. 
 
 VOL. 1. V
 
 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 
 
 How different from Mr. Pitt's conduct was that of 
 Lord Grenville, who no sooner acceded to office in 
 1806, than he encouraged all the measures which first 
 restrained, and then entirely abolished that infernal 
 traffic ! The crown lawyers of his administration were 
 directed to bring in a bill for abolishing the foreign 
 slave-trade of our colonies, as well as all importation 
 into the conquered settlements — and when it is recol- 
 lected that Sir Samuel Romilly at that time added 
 lustre and gave elevation to the office of solicitor- 
 general, it may well be supposed that those duties were 
 cheerfully and duly followed both by him and by 
 his honest, learned, and experienced colleague, Sir 
 Arthur Pigott. It is fit that no occasion on which Sir 
 Samuel Romilly is named should ever be passed over 
 without an attempt to record the virtues and endow- 
 ments of so great and so good a man, for the instruc- 
 tion of after ages. 
 
 Few persons have ever attained celebrity of name 
 and exalted station, in any country, or in any age, 
 with such unsullied purity of character, as this equally 
 eminent and excellent person. His virtue was stern 
 and inflexible, adjusted, indeed, rather to the rigorous 
 standard of ancient morality than to the less ambitious 
 and less elevated maxims of the modern code. But in 
 this he very widely differed from the antique model
 
 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 291 
 
 upon which his charactei* generally appeared to be 
 framed, and also very far surpassed it, that there was 
 nothing either affected or repulsive about him ; and if 
 ever a man existed who would more than any other have 
 scorned the pitiful fopperies which disfigured the worth 
 of Cato, or have shrunk from the harsher virtue of 
 Brutus, Romilly was that man. He was, in truth, a 
 person of the most natural and simple manners, and 
 one in whom the kindliest charities and warmest feel- 
 ings of human nature were blended in the largest 
 measure with that firmness of purpose, and unrelaxed 
 sincerity of principle, in almost all other men found to 
 be little compatible with the attributes of a gentle nature 
 and the feelings of a tender heart. 
 
 The observer who gazes upon the character of this 
 great man is naturally struck first of all with its most 
 prominent feature, and that is the rare excellence which 
 we have now marked, so far above every gift of the 
 understanding, and which throws the lustre of mere 
 genius into the shade. But his capacity was of the 
 highest order. An extraordinary reach of thought; 
 great powers of attention and of close reasoning ; a me- 
 mory quick and retentive ; a fancy eminently brilliant, 
 but kept in perfect discipline by his judgment and his 
 taste, which was nice, cultivated, and severe, without 
 any of the squeamishness so fatal to vigour — ^ these 
 were the qualities which, under the guidance of the 
 most persevering industry, and with the stimulus of a 
 lofty ambition, rendered him unquestionably the first 
 advocate, and the most profound lawyer, of the age he 
 flourished in ; placed him high among the ornaments 
 of the Senate ; and would, in all likelihood, have 
 
 u 2
 
 292 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 
 
 given him the foremost place among them all, had 
 not the occupations of his laborious profession neces- 
 sarily engrossed a disproportionate share of his atten- 
 tion, and made political pursuits fill a subordinate 
 place in the scheme of his life. Jurisperitorum diser- 
 tisshniis, disertorum vero Jurisperitissimus . As his 
 practice, so his authority at the bar and mth the bench 
 was unexampled ; and his success in Parliament was 
 great and progressive. Some of his speeches, both 
 forensic and Parliamentary, are nearly unrivalled in 
 excellence. The reply, even as reported in 11 J^esey, 
 junior, in the cause of Hugonin v. Beasley,* where 
 legal matters chiefly were in question, may give no 
 mean idea of his extraordinary powers. The last 
 speech that he pronounced in the House of Commons, 
 upon a bill respecting the law of naturalization, which 
 gave him occasion to paint the misconduct of the 
 expiring Parliament in severe and even dark colours, 
 was generally regarded as unexampled among the 
 efforts of his eloquence ; nor can they who recollect its 
 effects ever cease to lament with tenfold bitterness of 
 sorrow, the catastrophe which terminated his life and 
 extinguished his glory, when they reflect that the vast 
 accession to his influence from being chosen for West- 
 minster, came at a time when his genius had reached 
 its amplest display, and his authority in Parliament, 
 unaided by station, hatl attained the highest eminence. 
 The friend of public virtue, and the advocate of human 
 
 * A case very nearly resembling this, Alacahe v. Hussey, was 
 argued in the House of Lords in October, 1831, by Mr. O'Connell, 
 and his argument was a masterpiece, according to the judgment of 
 those who heard it.
 
 SIU SAMUEL UOMILLY. 293 
 
 improvement, will mourn still more sorrowfully over 
 his urn than the admirers of genius, or those who are 
 dazzled by political triumphs. For no one could know 
 Rornilly, and doubt that, as he only valued his own 
 success and his own powers, in the belief that they 
 might conduce to the good of mankind, so each aug- 
 mentation of his authority, each step of his progress, 
 must have been attended with some triumph in the 
 cause of humanity and justice. True, he would at 
 length, in the course of nature, have ceased to live ; 
 but then the bigot would have ceased to persecute — the 
 despot to vex — the desolate poor to suffer — the slave to 
 groan and tremble — the ignorant to commit crimes — 
 and the ill-contrived law to engender criminality. 
 
 On these things all men are agreed ; but if a more 
 distinct account be desired of his eloquence, it must be 
 said that it united all the more severe graces of oratory, 
 both as regards the manner and the substance. No 
 man argued more closely when the understanding was 
 to be addressed ; no man declaimed more powerfully 
 when indignation was to be aroused or the feelings 
 moved. His language was choice and pure ; his powers 
 of invective resembled rather the grave authority with 
 which the judge puts down a contempt, or punishes an 
 offender, than the attack of an advocate against his 
 adversary and his equal. His imagination was the mi- 
 nister whose services were rarely required, and whose 
 mastery was never for an instant admitted. His sar- 
 casm was tremendous, nor always very sparingly em- 
 ployed. His manner was perfect, in voice, in figure, 
 in a countenance of singular beauty and dignity ; nor 
 was anything in his oratory more striking or more
 
 294 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 
 
 efiective than the heartfelt sincerity which it throughout 
 displayed, in topic, in diction, in tone, in look, in gesture. 
 " In Scauri oratione sapientis hominis et recti, gravitas 
 summa, et naturalis qusedam inerat auctoritas, non ut 
 causam, sed ut testimonium dicere putares. Significabat 
 enim non prudentiam solum, sed, quod maxime rem con- 
 tinebat, tidem."* 
 
 Considering his exalted station at the bar, his pure 
 and unsullied character, and the large space which he 
 filled in the eye of the country, men naturally looked 
 for his ascent to the liighest station in the profession of 
 which he was, during so many years, the ornament and 
 the pride. Nor could any one question that he would 
 have presented to the world the figure of a consummate 
 judge. He alone felt any doubt upon the extent of his 
 own judicial qualities ; and he has recorded in his 
 journal (that invaluable document in which he was 
 wont to set down freely his sentiments on men and 
 things) a modest opinion, expressing his apprehension, 
 should he ever be so tried, that men would say of him 
 " Capa,c imperii nisi imperasset." With this single 
 exception, otferiug so rare an instance of impartial 
 self-judgment, and tending of itself to its own refuta- 
 tion, all who had no interest in the elevation of others, 
 have held his exclusion from the supreme place in the 
 law, as one of the heaviest items in the price paid for 
 the factious structure of our practical government. 
 
 In his private life and personal habits he exhibited a 
 model for imitation, and an object of unqualified esteem. 
 All his severity was reserved for tlie forum and the 
 senate, M'hen vice was to be lashed, or justice vindicated, 
 
 * Cic, Brutus.
 
 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 295 
 
 the public delinquent exposed, or the national oppressor 
 overawed. In his family and in society, where it was 
 his delight, and the only reward of his unremitting 
 labours, to unbend, he was amiable, simple, natural, 
 cheerful. Tlie vast resources of his memory, — the 
 astonishing economy of time, by which he was enabled 
 to read almost every work of interest that came from the 
 press of either his hereditary or his native country, 
 either France or England, — the perfect correctness of 
 his taste, refined to such a pitch that his pencil was one 
 of no ordinary power, and his verses, when once or 
 twice only he wrote poetry, were of great merit, — his 
 freedom from affectation, — the wisdom of not being 
 above doing ordinary things in the ordinary way, — all 
 conspired to render his society peculiarly attractive, and 
 would have made it courted even had his eminence in 
 higher matters been far less conspicuous. While it was 
 the saying of one political adversaiy, the most expe- 
 rienced and correct observer* among all the parlia- 
 mentary men of his time, that he never was out of his 
 place while Romilly spoke without finding that he had 
 cause to lament his absence, — it was the confession of 
 all who were admitted to his private society, that they 
 forgot the lawyer, the orator, and the patriot, and had 
 never been aware, while gazing on him with admiration, 
 how much more he really deserved that tribute than he 
 appeared to do when seen from afar. 
 
 If defects are required to be thrown into such a 
 sketch, and are deemed as necessary as the shades in a 
 picture, or, at least, as the more subdued tones of some 
 
 * Mr. Charles Long, afterwards Lord Farnboroueh.
 
 296 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 
 
 parts for giving relief to others, this portraiture of Ro- 
 milly must be content to remain imperfect. For what is 
 there on which to dwell for blame, if it be not a prone- 
 ness to prejudice in favour of opinions resembling his 
 own, a blindness to the defects of those who held them, 
 and a prepossession against those who held them not? 
 While there is so very little to censure, there is unhap- 
 pily much to deplore. A morbid sensibility embittered 
 many hours of his earlier life, and when deprived of 
 the wife whom he most tenderly and justly loved, con- 
 tributed to bring on an inflammatory fever, in the 
 paroxysm of which he untimely met liis end. 
 
 The Letter of JMr. Brougham, on Abuse of Charities, 
 was communicated in manuscript to him while attend- 
 ing the sick bed of that excellent person, whose loss 
 brought on his own. It tended to beguile some of those 
 sorrowful hours, the subject having long deeply engaged 
 his attention ; and it was the last thing that he read. 
 His estimate of its merits was exceedingly low ; at least 
 he said he was sure no tract had ever been published on 
 a more dry subject, or was likely to excite less attention. 
 The interest of the subject, however, was much under- 
 valued by him ; for the letter ran thi'ough eight editions 
 in the month of October.* 
 
 That he higlily approved of the labours of the Edu- 
 cation Committee, however, and that the conduct of its 
 Chaiiman shared fully in his approval, there can be no 
 
 * The last book of any importance read by him was Mr. Hallam's 
 first great work, of which he justly formed the highest opinion, and 
 recommended the immediate perusal of it to the author of the Letter, 
 as a contrast to that performance, in respect of the universal interest 
 of the subject.
 
 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 297 
 
 doubt. In the last will which he made, there is a warm 
 expression of personal regard and a strong testimony to 
 public merits, accompanying a desire that his friend 
 would join Avith another whom he had long known inti- 
 mately, and whom he consequently most highly and most 
 justly esteemed, Mr. Whishaw, in performing the office of 
 literary executor. The manuscripts which he left were 
 numerous and important. The most interesting are the 
 beautiful Sketches of his early life, and the Journal to 
 which reference has already been made. But his com- 
 mentaries upon subjects connected with jurisprudence 
 are those of the greatest value ; for they show that most 
 of the reforms of which he maintains the expediency, 
 have since his decease been adopted by the Legislature ; 
 and they thus form a powerful reason for adopting those 
 others which he recommends, and which are not now 
 less favoured by the general opinion of mankind, than 
 were the former class at the early period when he wrote. 
 The injunction to his friends contained in his will, was 
 truly characteristic of the man. He particularly desired 
 them, in determining whether or not the manuscripts 
 should be published, only to regard the prospect there 
 was of their being m any degree serviceable to mankind, 
 and by no means to throw away a thought upon any 
 injury which the appearance of such unfinished works 
 might do to his literary character. Whoever knew him, 
 indeed, was well persuaded that in all his exertions his 
 personal gratification never was for a moment consulted, 
 unless as far as whatever he did, or whatever he wit- 
 nessed in others, had a relish for him exactly propor- 
 tioned to its tendency towards the establishment of the 
 principles which formed, as it were, a part of his nature, 
 and towards the promotion of human happiness, the
 
 298 SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY. 
 
 grand aim of all his views. This is that colleague and 
 comrade whose irreparable loss his surviving friends 
 have had to deplore, through all their struggles for the 
 good cause in which they had stood by his side ; a loss 
 which each succeeding day renders heavier, and harder 
 to bear, when the misconduct of some, and the incapacity 
 of others, so painfully recall the contrast of one whose 
 premature end gave the first and the only pang that 
 had ever come from him ; and all his associates may 
 justly exclaim in the words of TuUy regarding Hor- 
 tensius, " Augebat etiam molestiam, quod magna 
 sapientium civium bonorumque penuria, vir egregius, 
 conjunctissinmsque mecum consiliorum omnium socie- 
 tate, alienissimo reipublicee tempore extinctus, et aucto- 
 ritatis, et prudentise suae triste nobis desiderium reli- 
 querat: dolebamque, quod non, ut plerique putabant, 
 adversarium, aut obtrectatorem luudum mearum, sed 
 socium potius et consortem gloriosi laboi'is amiseram." 
 
 And here for a moment let us pause. We have been 
 gazing on the faint likenesses of many great men. We 
 have been traversing a Gallery, on either side of which 
 they stand ranged. We have made bold in that edifice 
 to " expatiate and confer the State atfairs" of their age. 
 Cognizant of its history, aware of the principles by 
 which the English chiefs are marshalled, sagacious of the 
 springs that move the politic wheel whose revolutions we 
 contemplate, it is an easy thing for us to conqirehend the 
 phenomenon most remarkably presented by those figures 
 and their arrangement ; nor are we led to stare aghast 
 at that which would astound any mind not previously 
 furnished with the ready solution to make all plain and
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 299 
 
 intelligible. But suppose some one from another hemi- 
 sphere, or another world, admitted to the spectacle 
 which we find so familiar, and consider what would be 
 its first effect upon his mind. — "Here," he would say, 
 " stand the choicest spirits of their age ; the greatest 
 wits, the noblest orators, the wisest politicians, the most 
 illustrious patriots. Here they stand, whose hands have 
 been raised for their country, whose magical eloquence 
 has shook the spheres, whose genius has poured out 
 strains worthy the inspiration of the gods, whose lives 
 were devoted to the purity of their principles, whose 
 memories were bequeathed to a race grateful for bene- 
 fits received from their sufferings and their sacrifices. 
 Here stand all these " lights of the ^vorld and demigods 
 of fame ;" but here they stand not ranged on one side of 
 this Gallery, having served a common country ! \\'itli 
 the same bright object in their view, their efforts were 
 divided, not united ; they fiercely combated each other, 
 and not together assailed some common foe ; their 
 great exertions were bestowed, their more than mortal 
 forces were expended, not in furthering the general 
 good, not in resisting their country's enemies, but in 
 conflicts among themselves ; and all their triumphs were 
 won over each other, and all their sufferings were en- 
 dured at each other's hands !"' — " Is it," the unen- 
 lightened stranger would add, " a reality that I survey, 
 or a troubled vision that mocks my sight ? Am I indeed 
 contemplating the prime of men amongst a rational 
 people, or the Coryphei of a band of mimes ? Or, 
 haply, am I admitted to survey the cells of some hospi- 
 tal appointed for the insane ; or is it, peradventure, the 
 vaults of some pandemonium through which my eyes
 
 300 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 
 
 have been suffered to wander till my vision aches, and 
 my brain is disturbed ?" 
 
 Thus far the untutored native of some far-distant wild 
 on earth, or the yet more ignorant inhabitant of some 
 world, remote " beyond the solar walk or Milky Way." 
 We know more ; we apprehend things better. But let 
 us, even in our pride of enlightened wisdom, pause for 
 a moment to reflect on this most anomalous state of 
 things, — this arrangement of political affairs wliich 
 systematically excludes at least one-half of the great 
 men of each age from their country's service, and de- 
 votes both classes infinitely more to maintaining a 
 conflict with one another than to furthering the gene- 
 ral good. And here it may be admitted at once that 
 nothing can be less correct than their view, who re- 
 gard the administration of affau-s as practically in the 
 hands of only one-half the nation, whilst the excluded 
 portion is solely occupied in tliwarting their proceedings. 
 The influeuce of both Parties is exerted, and the move- 
 ment of the state machine partakes of both the forces 
 impressed upon it ; neither taking the direction of the 
 one nor of the other, but a third line between both. 
 This concession, no doubt, greatly lessens the evil; but 
 it is very far indeed from remo\ang it. Why must 
 there always be this exclusion, and this conflict ? Does 
 not every one immediately perceive how it must prove 
 detrimental to the public service in the great majority 
 of instances ; and how miserable a make-shift for some- 
 thing better and more rational it is, even where it does 
 more good than harm ? Besides, if it requires a con- 
 stant and systematic opposition to prevent mischief, and 
 keep the machine of state in the right path, of what use
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 301 
 
 is our boasted representative government, which is 
 designed to give the people a control over their rulers, 
 and serves no other purpose at all ? Let us for a mo- 
 ment consider the origin of this system of Party, that 
 we may the better be able to appreciate its value and 
 to comprehend its manner of working. 
 
 The Origin of Party may be traced by fond theorists 
 and sanguine votaries of the system, to a radical differ- 
 ence of opinion and principle ; to the " idem sen- 
 tire de repiiblicd" which has at all times marshalled men 
 in combinations or split them in oppositions ; but it is 
 pretty plain to any person of ordinary understanding 
 that a far less romantic ground of union and of separation 
 has for the most part existed — the individual interests of 
 the parties ; the idem velle afque idem nolle ; the desire 
 of power and of plunder, which, as all cannot share, each 
 is desirous of snatching and holding. The history of 
 English party is as certainly that of a iew great men and 
 powerful families on the one hand, contending for place 
 and poAver, with a few others on the opposite quarter, 
 as it is the history of the Plantagenets, the Tudors and 
 the Stuarts. There is nothing more untrue than to repre- 
 sent principle as at the bottom of it ; interest is at the 
 bottom, and the opposition of principle is subservient to 
 the opposition of interest. Accordingly, the result has 
 been, that unless periiaps where a dynasty was changed, 
 as in 1688, and for some time afterwards, and excepting 
 on questions connected with this change, the very same 
 conduct was held and the same principles professed by 
 both Parties when in office and by both when in opposi- 
 tion. Of this we have seen sufficiently remarkable in- 
 stances in the course of the foregoing pages. The
 
 302 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 
 
 Wilier in opposition was for retrenchment and for peace ; 
 transplant him into office, he cared little for either. 
 Bills of coercion, suspensions of the constitution, were 
 his abhorrence when propounded by Tories ; in place, he 
 propounded tliem himself. Acts of indenmity and of 
 attainder were the favourites of the Tory in power ; the 
 Tory in opposition was the enemy of both. The gravest 
 charge ever brought by the Whig against his adversary 
 was the personal proscription of an exalted individual to 
 please a King ; the worst charge that the Tory can level 
 against the Whig is the support of a proscription still 
 less justifiable to please a Viceroy. 
 
 It cannot surely in these circumstances be deemed 
 extraordinary that plain men, uninitiated in the Aristo- 
 cratic Mysteries whereof a rigid devotion to Party forms 
 one of the most sacred, should be apt to see a very dif- 
 ferent connexion between principle and faction from 
 the one usually put forward ; and that without at all 
 denying a i-elation between the two things, they should 
 reverse the account generally given by Party men, and 
 suspect them of taking up principles in order to marshal 
 themselves in alliances and hostilities for their own 
 interests, instead of engaging in those contests because 
 of their conflicting principles. In a word, there seems 
 some reason to suppose that interest having really 
 divided them into bands, principles are professed for the 
 purpose of better compassing their objects by maintain- 
 ing a character and gaining the support of the people. 
 
 That to a certain degree tliis is true, we think can 
 hardly be doubted, although it is also impossible to deny 
 that there is a plain line of distinction bet^veen the two 
 great Parties which formerly prevailed in this country
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 303 
 
 upon one important point, the foundations and extent of the 
 Royal Prerogative. But that this line can now be traced 
 it would be absurd to pretend. JMr. Pitt, and even Lord 
 North, hafl no other opinions respecting kingly power 
 than Mr. Fox or Mr. Burke ; and the rival theories of 
 Sir Robert FUmer and Mr. Locke were as obsolete 
 during the American war as they are at this day. Then 
 have not men, since Jacobitism and Divine Right were 
 exploded, generally adopted opinions upon the practical 
 questions of the day in such a manner as to let them 
 conveniently co-operate with certain acts of statesmen and 
 oppose others; join some family interests together in 
 order to counterbalance some other family interests ; 
 league themselves in bodies to keep or to get power in 
 opposition to other bands formed with a similar view ? 
 This surely will not, upon a calm review of the facts, be 
 denied by any one whose judgment is worth having. 
 
 ObseiTe how plainly the course pursued by one class 
 dictates that to be taken 1>y the other. There must be 
 coml)inations, and there must be oppositions ; and there- 
 fore things to diflfer upon, as well as things to agree upon, 
 must needs be found. Tims, the King is as hostile as 
 bigotry and tyranny can make him to American liberty, 
 and his ministers support him in the war to crush it. 
 This throws the opposition upon the liberal side of the 
 question, without which they can neither keep together 
 nor continue to resist the ministry. Is any man so blind 
 as seriously to believe that, had Mr. Burke and Mr. Fox 
 been the Ministers of George III. they would have re- 
 signed rather than try to put down the Americans ? If 
 so, let him open his eyes, and ask himself another simple 
 question. What Minister would ever volunteer his advice
 
 304 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 
 
 to dismember the empii'e ? But if that fails to convince 
 him, let him recollect that the American war had raged 
 for years before the word " Separation" crossed the lips of 
 any man in either House of Parliament — all the attacks 
 were made upon the ill-treatment of our fellow-subjects, 
 and the mismanagement of the war ; the Whigs would 
 have been more kind rulers and better generals, but only 
 in order to prevent the last of calamities — Separation 
 and Independence. Nay, the same Party being now in 
 power, have avowed towards Canada the very principles 
 upon which Lord North carried on the fonner contest. 
 The Tories may perhaps allege that they have of late been 
 more consistent. 
 
 Take another instance. While the Whigs were out 
 of office the same King's bigotiy refiised to emancipate 
 the Roman Catholics. It would be a strong thing to 
 hold, that the Party which was always distinguished for 
 its hatred of Romanism, and which had founded its power 
 of old on the penal laws, must of necessity have taken an 
 opposite view of this question because circumstances had 
 changed and those laws had become unnecessary, and be- 
 cause the King, supposing them to have been his sei-vants, 
 would have adhered to the ancient Whig tenets. But 
 when, in opposition themselves, they fo\md some millions 
 ready to rally against the Court, and saw their adversaries, 
 the Ministers of the day, siding with the King, they never 
 hesitated a moment in taking their line, and fought gal- 
 lantly tUl the battle was won. Without affirming that 
 the altered view of the question was wholly caused by the 
 position of Parties, and dictated by the ]Ministers taking 
 the other line, we may at least assert, without any fear of 
 contradiction, that the promptitude with which the change
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 305 
 
 was made by the leaders is traceable to tins source ; and 
 that their having the power to make their less liberal and 
 enlightened followers in the country join them, doing 
 violence to their most rooted prejudices, can in no other 
 way be accounted for than by referring to the operation 
 of Party tactics. Indeed, this operation alone can explain 
 the phenomenon of the two great factions having changed 
 sides on the whole question ; the Tories taking the very 
 part now which the Whigs did in the days of the So- 
 mers, the Mai-lboroughs, the Godolphuis, and some- 
 what earlier, in the times of the Russells and the 
 Sidneys. The solution of the enigma is to be found 
 chiefly in the accidental circumstance of the Parties 
 having at the two different periods been in oppo- 
 site positions — the Whigs in power at one time, the 
 Tories at the other, and the Crown holding the same 
 course in each case. The only other circumstance that 
 exists to modify this conclusion, is, that the princi- 
 ples of the Whig families at the Revolution led to their 
 being in power; although it would l)e a l)old thing 
 to assert that, if the Tory families had been preferred, 
 through some accident of personal favour, by William 
 and Anne, the Whig families then m opposition would 
 have supported the penal code ; or even that, if George I. 
 had turned his back upon them, and courted their adver- 
 saries, they would have kept quite clear of Jacobite con- 
 nexions, which some of the most distinguished, as it 
 was, are well known to have formed. 
 
 Nor is there much reason to suppose that hatl the Par- 
 ties changed positions in 1792 the Whigs would, as a 
 matter of course, have been against the war. Half the 
 Party were found to l)e the most strenuous a<lvocates 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 
 
 of a rupture with France, and their accession to ofl&ce as 
 a body followed this avowal. The whole could not pur- 
 sue the sanie course ; and Mr. Pitt having unhappily 
 declared for war, the opposition was for peace. If any 
 one feels very confident that the great men whom we 
 have been contemplating in then* glorious resistance to 
 that ruinous contest, would have maintained peace at all 
 hazards, including a quarrel with the Aristocracy and 
 the Court, had they been George IIT.'s Ministers, we 
 beseech him to consider how little disposed they showed 
 themselves, after Mr. Pitt's death, to make sacrifices for 
 the great object of pacification, and how forward they 
 were in gratifying the King's prejudices on Hanover, 
 which their new leader declared was as much a British 
 interest as Hampshu-e. One thing is certain enough, — 
 had the Whigs joined the King and the aristocracy in 
 making war, Mr. Pitt would have been as strenuous an 
 apostle of peace as ever preached that holy word. 
 
 If the new line of distinction which now severs the two 
 sets of men be observed, little doubt will be cast upon 
 our former conclusions. The one is for reform, the other 
 against it. But the old Whig Party were always very 
 lukewarm reformers : one section of them were its 
 most bitter enemies — the rest, with few exceptions, its 
 very temperate suppoi'ters. Even INIr. Fox's reform of 
 Parliament would have gone into a mighty narrow com- 
 pass. But there rests no kind of doubt on this as well 
 as other principles having been rather the consequence 
 than the cause of Party distinctions ; for when Mr. Pitt 
 in opposition, and aftei-wards in office, brought forward 
 the question, he received a very moderate and divided 
 support from the Whigs ; and no small part of the
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 307 
 
 Government which carried the question in 1831, and of 
 the present Reform Government, are Tories who had 
 before been strenuously opposed to all changes what- 
 ever in our parliamentary system. That the same Mi- 
 nistry of 1831 was substantially Wliig, and carried the 
 question by a far greater effort than ever Mr. Pitt made 
 for its advancement, is not to be doubted. But their 
 influence, nay their existence depended upon it : they 
 gained more by it, as a Party, than by any other course 
 they could have gained. This then can form no ex- 
 ception whatever to the position that, when parties are 
 formed mainly for the purpose of obtaining and retain- 
 ing power, they adopt principles, and act upon them, 
 with a view to serve this main object of the Party union. 
 The people in a country like this have their weight as 
 well as the Court and the aristocracy, and their opinions 
 and feelings must be consulted by Party leaders in order 
 to gain their support. Whatever insincerity there may 
 be in the latter, however they may be suspected of pro- 
 fessing opinions for the purpose of their policy, the people 
 can have no such sinister motives. Hence a Party may 
 take popular ground when in opposition with the view of 
 defeating the Court, and it may also take the same ground 
 in office to fortify itself against a hostile Court or a gene- 
 rally unfriendly aristocracy. 
 
 This induction of facts is incomplete, if the instantia 
 negativa, the converse proof, be wanting, of cases 
 where great principles not espoused by Parties, nor 
 made matter of Party manoeuvring, have had a dif- 
 ferent fate. Unhappily there are comparatively very 
 few questions of importance which have enjoyed this ex- 
 emption. One of the greatest of all, however, the Slave 
 
 X 2
 
 308 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 
 
 Trade, is of the number ; the Abolition having been 
 first taken up by Thomas Clarkson, a Foxite in opinion, 
 and in Parliament by INIr. Wilberforce, a friend of ]Mr. 
 Pitt (but neither of them Party men), was never made 
 the subject of Party distinction. Accordingly, the men 
 of both sides were divided on it, according to the colom-s 
 of their real opinions, and not of their Party differences : 
 nor was it ever either supported or opposed by the 
 marshalled strength of faction. The doctrines of Free 
 Trade and the amendment of the Criminal Law furnish 
 other instances of the same rare description. No one 
 can be at any loss to perceive how very differently these 
 questions have been handled from the Party ones to 
 which we before adverted. No one can he at a loss to 
 perceive how much truth has gamed by the remarkable 
 diversity. 
 
 We have hitherto been referring to the fate of great 
 principles, — of general questions ; but the same will 
 be found to have been the treatment of subjects more 
 personal and accidental. INIr. Pitt, after a short co- 
 operation with the Whigs, sacrificed them to the pre- 
 judices of the King and returned to power, while they 
 retired to their opposition places and habits. If, instead 
 of tliis result, the negociations of 1804 had led to a 
 junction of the two great Parties, he is a bold man who 
 \n\\ take upon liimself to affirm that the U'higs would 
 on the Treasury Bench have read Lord St. Vincent's 
 famous 10th Report vpith the same eyes which glared 
 upon Lord MelviUe from the opposite side of the House, 
 and conducted them to the imp.^achment of that IMinis- 
 ter a few months afterwards. Again, the greatest per- 
 sonal question that ever distracted rather than divided
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 309 
 
 the country, was the treatment of the Queen in 1820. 
 Had the Whigs then been in office under George IV., 
 as they were in habits of Party connexion with him in 
 1806, would they have been so strenuous in opposing 
 his favourite Bill of Pains and Penalties ? It would 
 be a very adventurous thing to assert anything of the 
 kind, when we recollect how unreservedly they lent 
 themselves in 1806 to the first persecution of the ill-fated 
 Queen by the " Delicate Investigation," as it was most 
 inappropriately called, which they conducted in secret 
 and behind the back of the accused. The Tories were 
 then in opposition to the Prince and to the Whig minis- 
 try ; and they bitterly denounced that secret proceeding. 
 Who can doubt that had the Whigs in 1820 been the 
 ministers and proposed the Bill, it would have found 
 as strenuous opposition from the Tories as this Bill 
 found from the Whigs ? But are we left to our con- 
 jectures upon this point ? No such matter. The Tories 
 are now in opposition ; the Whigs in office ; and a bill 
 of attainder has been defended by the Whigs and opposed 
 by the Tories, having for its avowed object to banish men 
 from their country without a trial, or a hearing, or even a 
 notice ; and accomplishing this object by declaring their 
 entrance within their native land a capital offijnce. Had 
 the Whigs in power brought forward a bill to exile the 
 Queen without hearing her, and to declare her landing 
 in England high treason, we have a right to affinn that 
 the Tories being in opposition would have strenuously 
 resisted such a measure. Two cases more parallel can 
 hardly be hnagined ; for there was a charge of treason 
 in both ; there was the temporary absence of the party 
 accused ; there was a riot or tumult expected upon that
 
 310 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 
 
 party's return ; there was the wish to prevent such a 
 return ; and there was no desire in either the one case 
 or the other to shed a drop of blood, but only a wish 
 to gain the object by a threat. On the other hand, have 
 the Tories any right to affirm that if they had chanced to 
 be in power when the Canada afi'airs were to be settled, 
 no bills of attainder would have been passed ? The forms 
 of law might have been more artificially and skilfully 
 preserved ; but that the prmciples of substantial justice 
 would have been better maintahied towards Papineau 
 and his adherents in 1838 than they were towards Queen 
 Caroline in 1820, we have no right whatever to believe. 
 The Bill of 1820 is the great blot upon their public 
 character, the worst passage by far m the history of their 
 Party ; and they must have felt while tiiey assented to 
 its iniquities and plunged the country into the most im- 
 minent dangers, that they were yielding to the vilest 
 caprices of an unprincipled and tyrannical master. 
 
 It must not be supposed that those who concur in these 
 general remarks upon Party are pronouncing a very 
 severe censure upon all public men in this country, or 
 placing themselves vainly on an eminence removed 
 from strife, and high above all vulgar contentions — 
 
 Despicere unde queas alios, passimque videre, 
 Errare, atque viam palanteis quserere vitse, 
 Certare ingenio, contendere nobilitate, 
 Nocteis atque dies niti praestante labore 
 Ad summas emergere opes, rerumque potiri. 
 
 LUCRET. II. 
 
 The blame now cast upon politicians affects them all 
 equally ; and is only like that which ethical reasoners on 
 the selfish theory of morals may be supposed to throw
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 311 
 
 upon all human conduct. In fact that blame applies 
 not to individuals, but to the system ; and that system 
 is proved to be bad ; — hurtful to the interests of the 
 country, corrupting to the people, injurious to honest 
 principle, and at the very best a clumsy contrivance for 
 carrying on the aflFairs of the State. 
 
 It is partly the result of our monarchial constitution, in 
 which the pi-ince must rule by influence rather than 
 prerogative ; but it is much more to be derived from the 
 aristocratical portion of the constitution. The great 
 families in their struggles with each other and against 
 the Crown, have recourse to Party leagues, and the 
 people are from time to time drawn into the conflict. 
 The evils which flow from this manner of conducting 
 public affairs are manifest. The two greatest unques- 
 tionably are, first, the loss of so many able men to the 
 service of the country as well as the devotion of almost 
 the whole powers of all leading men to party contests 
 and the devotion of a portion of those men to obstruct- 
 ing the public service instead of helping it ; and next, 
 the sport which, in playing the party game, is made of 
 the most sacred principles, the duping of the people, and 
 the assumption of their aristocratic leaders to dictate 
 their opinions to them. It is a sorry account of any po- 
 litical machine that it is so constructed, as only to be 
 kept in order by the loss of power and the conflict of 
 forces which the first of these faults implies. It is a 
 clumsy and unwieldy movement which can only be ef- 
 fected by the combined operation of jarring principles, 
 which the panegyrists or rather apologists of these ano- 
 malies have commended. But it is a radical vice in any
 
 31:2 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 
 
 system to exclude the people from forming their own 
 opmions, which must, if proceeding from their own im- 
 pulses, be kept in strict accordance ^^^th their interests, 
 that is with the general good ; and it is a flaw if possible 
 still more disastrous, to render the people only tools and 
 instruments of an oligarchy, instead of makinsithek power 
 the main spring of the whole engine, and their interest 
 the grand object of all its operations. 
 
 Of this we may be well assured, that as Party has 
 hitherto been known amongst us, it can only be borne 
 during the earlier stages of a nation's political gro^vth. 
 While the people are ignorant of their uiterests, and as 
 little acquainted with their rights as with their duties, 
 they may be treated by the leading factions as they have 
 hitherto been treated by our own. God be praised, they 
 are not now what they were in the palmy days of factious 
 aristocracy, of the Walpoles, and the Foxes, and the 
 Pelhams — never consulted, and never thought of unless 
 when it was desirable that one mob should bawl out 
 " Church and King," and another should echo back " No 
 Pope, and no Pretender." They have even made great 
 advances since the close of the American war, and the 
 earlier periods of the French Revolution, when, through 
 fear of the Catholics, the library of Lord Mansfield, and 
 through hatred of the Dissenters, the apparatus of Dr. 
 Priestley, were committed to the flames. Their progress 
 is now rapid, and their success assured in the attainment 
 of all that can qualify them for self-government, eman- 
 cipate them from pupilage, and entitle them to luider- 
 take the management of their own aff"airs. Nor will 
 tliey any more suffer leading men to make up their opi-
 
 EFFECTS OF PARTY. 313 
 
 nions for them, as doctors do the prescriptions w hich 
 they are to take, or consent to be the tools and the dupes 
 of party any more. 
 
 Let us now Ijy way of contrast rather than compari- 
 son, turn our eye towards some eminent leaders of man- 
 kind in countries where no Party spirit can ever be 
 shown, or in circumstances where a great danger 
 threatening all alike, excludes the influence of faction 
 altogether, though only for a season, and while the pres- 
 sure continues. 
 
 Contemporary Avith George III., and with the states- 
 men whose faint likenesses we have been surveying, 
 were some of the most celebrated persons whom either 
 the, old or the new world have produced. Their talents 
 and their fortunes came also in conflict with those of 
 our own rulers, upon some of the most memorable occa- 
 sions which have exercised the one or affected the other. 
 It will form no inappropriate appendix to the preceding 
 sketches, if we now endeavour to pourtray several of 
 those distuiguished individuals.
 
 FRANKLIN. 
 
 One of the most remarkable men certainly of our 
 times as a politician, or of any age as a philosopher, 
 was Franklin ; who also stands alone in combining 
 together these two characters, the greatest that man 
 can sustain, and in this, that having borne the first part 
 in enlarging science by one of the greatest discoveries 
 ever made, he bore the second part in founding one of 
 the greatest empires in the world. 
 
 In this truly great man everything seems to concur 
 that goes towards the constitution of exalted merit. 
 First, he was the architect of his own fortune. Born 
 in the humblest station, he raised hunself by his talents 
 and his industry, first to the place in societj^ which may 
 be attained with the help only of ordinary abilities, 
 great application, and good luck; but next to the 
 loftier heights which a daring and happy genius alone 
 can scale ; and the poor Printer's boy who at one period 
 of his life had no coverinor to shelter his head from the 
 dews of night, rent in t%vain the proud dominion of 
 England, and lived to be the Ambassador of a Com- 
 monwealth which he had formed, at the Court of the 
 haughty IMonarchs of France who had been his allies. 
 
 Then, he had been tried by prosperity as well as ad- 
 verse fortune, and had passed imliurt through the perils 
 of both. No ordinary apprentice, no commonplace jour- 
 neyman, ever laid the foundations of his independence in
 
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 FRANKLIN. 315 
 
 habits of industry and temperance more deep than he 
 did, whose genius was afterwards to rank him with the 
 Galileos and the Newtons of the old world. No patri- 
 cian born to shine in Courts, or assist at the Councils of 
 Monarchs, ever bore his honors in a lofty station more 
 easily, or was less spoilt by the enjoyment of them than 
 this common workman did when negociating with Royal 
 representatives, or caressed by all the l)eauty and 
 fashion of the most brilliant Court in Europe. 
 
 Again, he was self-taught in all he knew. His hours 
 of study were stolen from those of sleep and of meals, 
 or gained by some ingenious contrivance for reading 
 while the work of his daily calling went on. Assisted 
 by none of the helps which affluence tenders to the 
 studies of the rich, he had to supply the place of tutors, 
 by redoubled diligence, and of commentaries, by re- 
 peated perusal. Nay, the possession of books was to be 
 obtained by copying what the art which he himself exer- 
 cised furnished easily to others. 
 
 Next, the circumstances under which others succumb 
 he made to yield, and bent to his own purposes — a 
 successful leader of a revolt that ended in complete tri- 
 umph after appearing desperate for years ; a great dis- 
 coverer in philosophy without the ordinary helps to 
 knowledge ; a writer famed for his chaste style without 
 a classical education ; a skilful negociator, though 
 never bred to politics ; ending as a favourite, nay, a 
 pattern of fashion, when the guest of frivolous Courts, 
 the life which he had begun in garrets and in work- 
 shops. 
 
 Lastly, combinations of faculties in others deemed 
 impossible, appeared easy and natural in him. The
 
 316 FRANKLIN. 
 
 philosopher, delighting in speculation, was also emi- 
 nently a man of action. Ingenious reasoning, relined 
 and subtle consultation, were in him combined with 
 prompt resolution, and inflexible firmness of purpose. 
 To a lively fancy, he joined a learned and deep reflection ; 
 his original and inventive genius stooped to the conve- 
 nient alliance of the most ordinary prudence in every- 
 day affairs ; the mind that soared above the clouds, and 
 was conversant with the loftiest of human contempla- 
 tions, disdained not to make proverbs and feign para- 
 bles for the guidance of apprenticed youths and servile 
 maidens ; and the hands that sketched a free constitution 
 for a whole continent, or drew down the lightning from 
 heaven, easily and cheerfully lent themselves to sim- 
 plify the apparatus by which truths were to be illus- 
 trated, or discoveries pursued. 
 
 His whole course both in acting and in speciJation 
 was simple and plain, ever pieferring the easiest and the 
 sliortest road, nor ever having recourse to any but the 
 simplest means to compass his ends. His policy i-ejected 
 all refinements, and aimed at accomplishing its purposes 
 by the most rational and obvious expedients. His lan- 
 guage was unadorned, and used as the medium of com- 
 municating his thoughts, not of raising admiration ; 
 but it was pure, expressive, i-acy. His manner of rea- 
 soning was manly and cogent, the address of a rational 
 being to others of the same order ; and so concise, that 
 preferring decision to discussion, he never exceeded a 
 quarter of an hour in any public address. His corre- 
 spondence upon business, whether private or on state 
 affairs, is a model of clearness and compendious short- 
 ness ; nor can any state papers surpass in dignity and
 
 FRANKLIN. 317 
 
 impression, those of which he is believed to have been 
 the author in the earlier part of the American revolu- 
 tionary war. His mode of philosophising was the purest 
 application of the Inductive principle, so eminently adap- 
 ted to his nature and so clearly dictated by common 
 sense, that we can have little doubt it would have been 
 suggested by Franklin, if it had not been unfolded by 
 Bacon, though it is as clear that in this case it would have 
 been expounded in far more simple terms. But of all 
 this great man's scientific excellencies, the most remark- 
 able is the smallness, the simplicity, the apparent inade- 
 quacy, of the means which he employed in his experi- 
 mental researches. His discoveries were made with 
 hardly any apparatus at all ; and if, at any time, he had 
 been led to employ instruments of a somewhat less ordinary 
 description, he never rested satisfied until he had, as it 
 were, aftenvards translated the process, by resolving the 
 problem with such simple machinery, that you might 
 say he had done it wholly unaided by apparatus. The 
 experiments by which the identity of lightning and 
 electricity was demonstrated, were made with a sheet 
 of brown paper, a bit of twine, a silk thread, and an 
 iron key. 
 
 Upon the integrity of this great man, whether in 
 public or in private life, there rests no stain. Strictly 
 honest, and even scrupulously punctual in all his deal- 
 ings, he preserved in the highest fortune that regularity 
 which he had practised as well as inculcated in the low- 
 est. The phrase which he once used when interrupted 
 in his proceedings upon the most arduous and important 
 affairs, by a demand of some petty item in a long account, 
 — " Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treads out the
 
 318 FRANKLIN. 
 
 corn," — has been cited against him as proving the laxity 
 of his dealings when in trust of public money ; it plainly 
 proves the reverse ; for he well knew that in a country 
 abounding in discussion, and full of bitter personal ani- 
 mosities, nothing could be gained of immunity by re- 
 fusing to produce his vouchers at the fitting time ; 
 and his venturing to use such language demonstrates 
 that he knew his conduct to be really above all sus- 
 picion. 
 
 In domestic life he was faultless, and in the intei'course 
 of society, delightful. There was a constant good hu- 
 mour and a playful wit, easy and of high relish, with- 
 out any ambition to shine, the natural fruit of his lively 
 fancy, his solid, natural good sense, and his cheerful 
 temper, that gave his conversation an unspeakable 
 charm, and alike suited every circle, from the humblest 
 to the most elevated. With all his strong opinions, so 
 often solemnly declared, so imperishably recorded in his 
 deeds, he retained a tolerance for those who differed 
 with him which could not 1)e surpassed in men whose 
 principles hang so loosely about them as to be taken up 
 for a convenient cloak, and laid down when found to 
 impede their progress. In his family he was every thing 
 that worth, warm affections, and sound prudence could 
 contribute, to make a man both useful and amiable, 
 respected and beloved. In religion, he would by many 
 be reckoned a latitudinarian ; yet it is certain that his 
 mind was imbued with a deep sense of the Divine per- 
 fections, a constant impression of our accountable na- 
 ture, and a lively hope of future enjoyment. Accord- 
 ingly, his death-bed, the test of both faith and works, 
 was easy and placid, resigned and devout, and indicated
 
 FRANKLIN. 319 
 
 at once an unflinching retrospect of the past, and a 
 comfortable assurance of the future. 
 
 If we turn from the truly great man whom we have 
 been contemplating, to his celebrated contemporary in 
 the Old World, who only affected the philosophy that 
 Franklin possessed, and employed his talents for civil 
 and military affairs, in extinguishing that independence 
 which Franklin's life was consecrated to establish, the 
 contrast is marvellous indeed, between the Monarch and 
 the Printer.
 
 FREDERIC 11. 
 
 In one particular this celebrated Prince may be said 
 to resemble the great Republican. His earlier years 
 were spent in the school of udversitj'. ^^''hether the 
 influence of this discipline, usually so propitious to the 
 character of great men, was exerted in chastening his 
 principles, and in calling forth and regulating those 
 feelings which the education of a court tends either to 
 stifle or pervert, may be learnt not only from the pri- 
 vate history of his reign, but from some anecdotes pre- 
 served, of his conduct immediately after he came to 
 the crown ; while, as yet, his heart could not have be- 
 come callous from the habits of uncontrolled dominion, 
 nor his principles unsettled by the cares of his turbulent 
 career. When William discovered his son's plan for es- 
 caping from Prussia, he caused him to be arrested, toge- 
 ther with his confidential friend De Catt, and instantly 
 brought to trial before a military commission. The in- 
 terposition of Austria alone saved the prince's life ; but 
 he was thrown into prison at the fort of Custrin, where 
 his friend was beheaded on a scaffold raised before his 
 apartment to the level of the window, from which he 
 was forced to view this afiiicting spectacle. He was so 
 much overpowered, that he sunk senseless into the 
 chair which had lieen placed to keep him at the wmdow, 
 and only recovered to bewail, with every appearance of 
 the most poignant feeling, the fate of this unhappy
 
 Si^rared, hy E. Strt^ov 
 
 IFISIEB1IE2CM I[3 
 
 
 J.iVidi'Ti.Rihlilhnl hf fhartrji Kniaht l.uAiint^ •V/#iW.
 
 FREDERIC II. 3'21 
 
 young man, who had fallen a sacrifice to his faithful at- 
 tachment. The savage conduct of William, indeed, 
 left him scarce any other occupation ; his confinement 
 was as strict, and his treatment as harsh, as that of the 
 meanest felon. By degrees, however, his guards 
 watched him less closely, and he was even permitted to 
 steal out under cover of night, by circuitous paths, to a 
 chateau in the neighbourhood, the residence of a very 
 amiable nobleman's family, who received him with the 
 greatest kindness, and exposed themselves to constant 
 risk on his account. Among them he spent as much 
 of his time, for above a year, as he could gain from the 
 humanity or treachery of his jailor. It was chiefly Avith 
 music and reading that he consoled himself in the gloom 
 of his prison ; and those good folks not only furnished him 
 with books and candles, but made little concerts for him 
 in the evenings, when he could escape to enjoy their so- 
 ciety. The young Wrechs (for that was the name of 
 this family) were sufhciently accomplished and sprightly 
 to gain Frederic's esteem. He delighted much in their 
 company ; and though they were so numerous, that the 
 baron was kept in narrow circumstances by the neces- 
 sary expenses of their maintenance and education, he 
 contrived, by straitening himself still more, to scrape 
 together supplies of money to the amount of above six 
 thousand rixdollars, with which he assisted, from time to 
 time, his royal guest. 
 
 Such were the obligations which Frederic owed, dur- 
 ing this eventful period of his life, first to the House of 
 Austria, whose spirited and decisive interference saved 
 him from the scaffold ; next, to the unfortunate De Catt, 
 Avho had sacrificed his life in the attempt to aid his es- 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 322 FREDERIC II. 
 
 cape ; and, lastly, to the amiable family of the Wrechs, 
 who, at the imminent risk of their lives, and at a certain 
 expense little suited to their moderate circumstances, had 
 tenderly alleviated the hardships of his confinement. As 
 Frederic mounted the throne a short time after he was 
 set at liberty, we might naturally expect that the im- 
 pression of favours like these would outlive the ordinary 
 period of royal memory. The first act of his reign was 
 to invade the hereditary dominions of Austria, and re- 
 duce to the utmost distress the daughter and represen- 
 tative of the monarch whose timely interposition had 
 saved his life, by heading a powerful combination against 
 her, after stripping her of an invaluable province. 
 The family and relations of De Catt never received, 
 during the whole of his reign, e^'en a smile of royal fa- 
 vour. To the Wrechs he not only never repaid a creut- 
 zer of the money which they had pinched themselves to 
 raise for his accommodation, but manifested a degree of 
 coldness amounting to displeasure : so that this worthy 
 and accomplished family were in a kind of disgrace dur- 
 ing his time, never received well at court, nor promoted 
 to any of the employments which form in some sort the 
 patrimony of the aristocracy. They were favoured by 
 Prince Henry ; and all that they could boast of owing 
 to the king was, to use an expression of his most zealous 
 panegyrist, that " he did not persecute them" on account of 
 his brother's patronage. His defenders screened this un- 
 grateful conduct behind the Prussian law, which prohibits 
 the loan of money to princes of the blood, and declares 
 all debts contracted by them null. But since the king 
 was to govern himself by the enactments of this law, it 
 would have been well if the pri?ice, too, had considered
 
 FREDERIC II. 323 
 
 them. We have heard of Lewis XII. proudly declar- 
 ing that it was unworthy the King of France to re- 
 venge the wrongs of the Duke of Orleans. It was re- 
 served for the unfeeling meanness of Frederic to show 
 us, that the King was not bound by the highest obli- 
 gations of the Prince of Prussia — that he could shel- 
 ter himself from the claims of honour and gratitude, l)y 
 appealing to laws which had been generously violated 
 in his behalf. 
 
 But it may be fair to mention the solitary instance of 
 a contrary description, which we can find in comparing 
 his conduct on the throne with the favours received 
 during his misfortunes. He had been assisted in his 
 musical relaxations at Potsdam by the daughter of a 
 citizen, who, without any personal charms, had the ac- 
 complishment most valuable to the prince, secluded as 
 he was from all society, and depending for amusement 
 almost entirely on his flute. His father no sooner heard 
 of this intimacy, than he supposed there must be some 
 criminal intercourse between the young amateurs, and 
 proceeded to meet the tender passion by the universal 
 remedy which he \vas in the habit of administering to 
 his subjects. The lady was seized, delivered over to 
 the executioner, and publicly whipped through the 
 streets of Potsdam. This cruel disgrace, of course, put 
 an end to the concerts, and to her estimation in society. 
 When Frederic came to the throne, she was reduced to 
 the humble station of a hackney-coachman's wife ; and, 
 with a rare effort of gratitude and generosity, he was 
 pleased to settle upon her a pension, of very little less 
 than thirty-five pounds a-year. 
 
 There is nothing in the history of his after life 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 FREDERIC II. 
 
 that slioAvs any improvement in the feelings with which 
 he began it, and which his own sufferings had not chast- 
 ened, nor the kindness that relieved them, softened. In 
 one of his battles, happening to turn his head round, 
 he saw his nephew, the Hereditary Prince, fall to the 
 ground, his horse being killed under him. Frederic, 
 thinking the rider was shot, cried, without stopping as 
 he rode past, " Ah ! there's the Prince of Prussia killed ; 
 let his saddle and bridle be taken care of!" 
 
 "N^'illiam Augustus, the King's elder brother, and 
 heir apparent to the crown, had for many years been 
 his principal favourite. He was a prince of great abi- 
 lities, and singularly amiable character — modest almost 
 to timidity — and repaying the friendship of Frederic by 
 a more than tilial devotion. He had served near his 
 person in all his campaigns, had constantly distinguished 
 himself in war, and, after the disastrous battle of Collin, 
 was entrusted with the command of half the retreating 
 army. "While the King succeeded in bringing off his 
 own division safe into Saxony, the Prince, attacked on 
 all hands by the whole force of the Austrians, suffered 
 several inconsiderable losses on liis march, and gained 
 the neighbourhood of Dresden with some difficulty. 
 He was received, as well as his whole staff, with the 
 greatest marks of displeasure. For several days the 
 King spoke to none of them ; and then sent a message 
 by one of his generals — " Que pour bienj'aire, il clevoit 
 hurfaire trancher la tete, ea'cepfer au general TVinter- 
 feldt." The Prince was of too feeling a disposition 
 not to suffer extremely from this treatment. He ad- 
 dressed a letter to the King, in which he stated that the 
 fatigues of the campaign, and his distress of mind, had
 
 FREDERIC II. 325 
 
 totally injured his health ; and received for answer a 
 permission to retire, couched in the most bitter and 
 humiliating reproaches. From this time he lived en- 
 tirely in the bosom of his family, a prey to the deepest 
 melancholy, but retaining for the King his sentiments 
 of warm attachment, and respect bordering upon vene- 
 ration, although never permitted to approach his person. 
 One interview only brought the brothers together after 
 their unhappy separation. The different members of 
 the Royal family, during the most disastrous period of 
 the Seven-years' war, when the existence of the house 
 of Brandenburg seemed to depend on a diminution in 
 the number of its enemies, united their voice in exhort- 
 ing the King to attempt making such a peace with 
 France and Sweden as might be consistent with the 
 honour of his crown. Prince William was entreated to 
 lay their wishes before him ; and, oppressed as he was 
 with disease, trembling to appear in his brother's pre- 
 sence, scarcely daring to hope even a decorous recep- 
 tion, he yet thought his duty required this effort, and he 
 supplicated an audience. Frederic allowed him to detail 
 fully his whole views, and was willing to hear from him 
 the unanimous prayers of his relations. He appeared be- 
 fore the King; besought him, conjured him, with tears 
 in his eyes, and embraced his knees with all the warmth 
 of fraternal affection, and all the devotion of the most 
 enthusiastic loyalty. No sentiment of pity for the cause 
 he pleaded, nor any spark of his own ancient affection 
 was kindled m Frederic's bosom at so touching a scene. 
 He remained silent and stern during the whole interview, 
 and then put an end to it by these words : " Monsieiir, 
 vous partirez demain pour Berlin : nllez /aire des
 
 326 FREDERIC II. 
 
 enfans: vous rietesbon qua cela." The Prince did 
 not long survive this memorable audience. 
 
 Such was the fate of his favourite brother. The 
 Princess Amelia was his youngest and most beloved 
 sister. She was one of the most charming and accom- 
 plished women in Europe. But after being cajoled by 
 her elder sister, Ulrica, out of a Royal marriage, which 
 that intriguer obtained for herself, Amelia fell in love 
 with the well-known Baron Trenk, who was by her 
 brother shut up in a fortress for ten years ; and Fre- 
 deric daily saw pining away before his eyes his favou- 
 rite sister, become blind and paralysed mth mental suf- 
 fering, and saw it without a pang or a sigh, much more 
 without a thought of relieving it by ceasing to perse- 
 cute her friend. 
 
 Having contemplated this monarch in the relations of 
 domestic life, it is now fit that we should view him 
 among his friends. Of these, there was absolutely not 
 one whom he did not treat with exemplary harshness, 
 except Jordan, who indeed lived only a few years after 
 Frederic came to the throne, while he was too much 
 occupied with war to allow him time for mixing with 
 that select society, in which he afterwai-ds vainly hoped 
 to enjoy the pleasures of entire equality, and where 
 always, sooner or later, the King prevailed over the 
 companion. Of all his friends, the Marquis d'Argens 
 seems to have been the most cordially and most respect- 
 fully attached to his person. In the field he was his 
 constant companion : their time in winter quarters was 
 passed in each other's society. At one time the King 
 had no other confidant ; and he it was who turned aside 
 his fixed purpose to commit suicide, when, at the most
 
 FREDERIC II. 327 
 
 desperate crisis of his affairs, life had become unbear- 
 able. But D'Argens committed the fault seldom par- 
 doned Ijy any prince, by Frederic never : he acted as if 
 he believed his Royal friend sincere in desiring that 
 they should live on equal terms. The pretext for 
 finally discarding his ancient companion was poor in 
 the extreme. When the marquis consented to come 
 into Frederic's sei'vice, and leave his own country, it 
 was upon the express condition that he should have 
 permission to return home when he reached the age 
 of seventy. He had a brother in France, to whom 
 he was tenderly attached, and owed many obliga- 
 tions. As he approached this period of life, his 
 brother prepared a house and establishment for his re- 
 ception ; and nothing was wanting but the king's leave 
 to make him retire from a service to which he was now 
 ill adapted by his years, and rendered averse by the 
 coldness daily more apparent in the treatment he re- 
 ceived. But Frederic, notwithstanding the bargain, 
 and in spite of his diminished attachment to this faithful 
 follower, peremptorily refused to grant his discharge : 
 he allowed him a sort of furlough to see his brother, 
 and took his promise to return in six months. When 
 the visit was paid, and the marquis had arrived at Bourg 
 on his return, the exertions which he made to get back 
 within the stipulated time threw him into a dangerous 
 illness. As soon as the six months expired, Frederic 
 receiving no letter and hearing nothing of him, became 
 violently enraged, and ordered his pensions to be stopped, 
 and his name to be struck otf the lists with disgrace. 
 The account of these precipitate measures reached the 
 marquis as he was on the point of continuing his journey
 
 328 FREDERIC II. 
 
 after his recovery. And when he died, the king caused 
 a monument to be raised to his memory, as a proof that 
 he repented of his harsh and hasty proceedings against 
 him. 
 
 The treatment which Marshal Schwerin met with for 
 gaining the battle of Rlolwitz, is well known. In order 
 to execute the manoeuvre upon which the victory de- 
 pended, it was necessary that the king should retire 
 from the field at a moment when success was almost 
 despaired of. He consented, and the tide was turned by 
 the consummate skill of the general. Ever after, Fre- 
 deric treated him with marked coldness ; neglected him 
 as fur as the necessity of claiming assistance from his 
 genius would permit ; and, finally, was the cause of his 
 exposing himself to certain destruction at the battle of 
 Prague, where this great master of the art of war fell 
 undistinguished in the crowd, leaving his family to the 
 neglect of an ungrateful sovereign, and his memory to 
 be honoured by the enemy whom he had conquered.* 
 
 After Frederic had quarrelled with Voltaire, he heard 
 of a Chevalier Masson, whose Avit and accomplishments 
 were represented as sufficient to replace those which he 
 had just lost by his own vanity and caprice. It was with 
 difficulty that this gentleman could be induced to quit 
 the F'rench service, in which lie stood high ; and when 
 he arrived at Berlin, though it very soon became appa- 
 rent that Voltaire's place was not one of those which 
 are so easily supplied, yet he had qualities sufficient to 
 
 * The monument erected in the neighbourhood of Prague, upon 
 tlie spot where the greatest of the Prussian captains fell, was raised 
 l>y the Emperor Joseph II.
 
 FREDERIC II. 329 
 
 recommend him, and was admitted instantly to the 
 royal circles. A single indiscreet sally of wit ruined 
 him in the king's favour. He retired in disgust to his 
 study, where he lived the life of a hermit for many 
 years, his existence unknown to the world, and the 
 most important of its concerns equfilly unknown to 
 him. As he had thus sacrificed all his prospects to 
 accept of Frederic's patronage, and had wasted the 
 prime of his life in attending upon his capricious 
 pleasure, it might have been expected that he would 
 at least have been permitted to enjoy his poor pension, 
 so dearly purchased, to the end of his inoffensive days. 
 But after twenty years of seclusion, such as we have 
 described, he had his name suddenly struck from the 
 lists, and his appointments stopped, and was obliged to 
 seek his own country witli the savings which his par- 
 simony had enabled him to make. 
 
 The same selfish spirit, or carelessness towards the 
 feelings and claims of others, which marked Frederic's 
 conduct to his family and friends, was equally con- 
 spicuous in his treatment of inferior dependants, both 
 in the relations of society and of business. In his 
 familiar intercourse with those whom he permitted to 
 approach him, we can find no line steadily drawn for 
 the regulation of his own demeanour, or of theirs. His 
 inclination seems to have been, that he should always 
 maintain the manifest superiority, without owing it in 
 appearance to his exalted station ; but as soon as he 
 lost, or was near losing, this first place in a contest 
 upon fair terms, he was ready suddenly to call in tlie 
 aid of the king. Tluis it perpetually happened, that a
 
 330 FREDERIC II. 
 
 conversation begun upon an equal footing, Avas ter- 
 minated by a single look of authority from the royal 
 companion. He never failed to indulge his sarcastic 
 humour and high spirits in sallies directed with little 
 delicacy or discrimination against all around him ; and 
 unless he happened to have, at the moment, such 
 answers as might, without any possibility of resistance, 
 crush those whom his railleries had forced into a re- 
 partee, he was sure to supply the defect by an appeal 
 to weapons which he alone of the circle could use. It 
 is not describing his behaviour correctly, to say that in 
 the hours of relaxation he was fond of forgetting the 
 monarch, provided his company never forgot him. This 
 would at least have been one general rule, one principle 
 of behaviour to which all might conform as soon as it 
 was made known. But Frederic laid down and took 
 up his sceptre at moments which his guests could never 
 divine ; and, far from insisting that they should always 
 have it in their eyes, it would often have been a ground 
 for his using it to stop the colloquy, if he had perceived 
 them persevere in addressing the sovereign, when he 
 was determined they should talk to a comrade. The 
 only rule then of his society, was entire submission to 
 his caprices; not merely a passive obedience, but a 
 compliance with every whim and turn of his mind ; 
 sometimes requiring to be met with exertions, some- 
 times to be received in quiet. That we may form some 
 idea of the nature and extent of this meanness, so poor 
 in one who called himself a Royal Philosopher, it is 
 proper to remark, that all those wits or other depen- 
 dants AA'ith whom he passed his time, were entirely sup-
 
 FREDERIC II. 331 
 
 ported by his pensions ; and that, beside the dangers 
 of a fortress, any resistance was sure to cost them and 
 their families their daily bread. 
 
 His ordinary mode of enjoying society was, to send 
 for a few of the philosophers who were always in readi- 
 ness, either when he dined, or had an hour's leisure 
 from business, which he wished to beguile by the 
 recreations of talking and receiving worship. On one 
 of these occasions, the savans in waiting were, Quintus 
 Icilius * and Thiebault ; and it happened that the king, 
 after giving his opinion at great length, and with his 
 usual freedom, upon the arrangement of Providence, 
 which conceals from mortals the period of their lives, 
 called upon them to urge whatever could be stated in 
 its defence. Quintus, unwarily supposing that he really 
 wished to hear the question discussed, gave a reason, 
 which appears completely satisfactory. The philoso- 
 pher of Sans-Souci, however, only desired his guests 
 to take the opposite side of the argument, in the con- 
 viction that they were not to invalidate his own reason- 
 ing. And when Quintus fairly destroyed the force of 
 it, by suggesting, that the certain knowledge of our 
 latter end would infallibly diminish the ardour of our 
 exertions for a considerable period beforehand, the king 
 thought proper to break out into a violent personal 
 invective. " Ici," (says Thiebault, who witnessed the 
 extremely but by no means singular scene) " la foudre 
 
 * This was a Leyden professor, originally named Guichard, who 
 being fond of military science, had been transformed into a colonel 
 of chasseurs by the king ; and then, from his admiration of Julius 
 Caesar's aid-de-camp, had been ordered to assume the name of Quintus 
 Icilius.
 
 332 FREDERIC II. 
 
 partit aiissi siibite qu'iniprevue." ' Cette faqon de 
 j'liger,' lui dit le Roi, ' ext honne pour vous, dine de 
 boue et de J'ange ! Mais apprenez, si toutefois vous 
 le pouvez, qtis ceux qui ont Tame noble, elevee, et sen- 
 sible mix charmes de la verfii, ne raisonnent point 
 sur des maximes aussi miserables et aussi honteuses ! 
 Apprenez, Monsieur, que Ihonnete homme fait tou- 
 jours le bien tant quil pent le faire, et uniquement 
 parce que c'est le bien, sans rechercher quels sont 
 ceux qui en profiteront ; mais vous ne senlez point ces 
 chases; vous netes point fait pour les sentir.' Vol.1. 
 p. 84. 
 
 At one of his literary entertainments, when, in order 
 to promote free conversation, he reminded the circle 
 that there was no monarch present, and that eveiy one 
 might think aloud, the conversation chanced to turn 
 upon the faults of diiferent governments and rulers. 
 General censures were passing from mouth to mouth, 
 with the kind of freedom which such hints were calcu- 
 lated, and apparently intended, to inspire. But Frederic 
 suddenly put a stop to the topic by these words — 
 " Paia; I paix ! Messieurs ; prenez garde, voila le 
 rot que arrive ; il ne faut pas quil vous entende, car 
 peut-etre se croiroit-il oblige d'etre encore plus mediant 
 que votis.' V. p. 329. 
 
 These sketches may serve to illustrate the conduct of 
 Frederic in society, and to show how far he could forget 
 his power in his familiar intercourse with inferiors. As 
 yet, we have seen only caprice, and that meanness, or, 
 to call it by the right name, cowardice, which consists 
 in trampling upon the fallen, and fighting with those 
 who are bound. His treatment of persons employed in
 
 FREDERIC 11. 333 
 
 his service, and his manner of transacting business with 
 them, presents us with equal proofs of a tyrannical 
 disposition, and examples of injustice and cruelty, alto- 
 gether unparalleled in the history of civilized monar- 
 chies. It is well known, that a large proportion of the 
 Prussian army owes its origin to a system of crimping, 
 which the recruiting officers carry on in foreign states, 
 and chiefly in the distant parts of the Empire. As 
 Frederic II. did not introduce this odious practice, he 
 might, perhaps, be allowed to escape severe censure for 
 not al)olishing it generally ; but there can be only one 
 opinion upon his conduct in those particular cases which 
 came to his knowledge, and where his attention was 
 specifically called to the grievous injuries sustained by 
 individuals. Of the many anecdotes which have been 
 preserved, relative to this point, one sample may suffice. 
 A French captain of cavalry, returning to his native 
 country, after a long absence in the West Indies, was 
 seized, in his journey along the Rhine, by some Prus- 
 sian recruiting officers ; his servant was spirited away, 
 and he was himself sent to the army as a private soldier, 
 in which capacity he was forced to serve during the 
 rest of the Seven-years' war, against the cause, be it 
 remarked, of his own country. In vain he addressed 
 letter after letter to his friends, acquainting them of his 
 cruel situation: the Prussian post-office was too well 
 regulated to let any of these pass. His constant memo- 
 rials to the King were received indeed, but not answered. 
 After the peace was concluded, he was marched with 
 his regiment into garrison ; and, at the next review, the 
 King, coming up to his colonel, inquired if a person 
 named M was still in tlie corps. Upon his being
 
 334 FREDERIC II. 
 
 produced, the King offered him a commission ; he de- 
 clined it, and received his discharge. 
 
 It was thus that Frederic obtained, by kidnappuig, the 
 troops whom he used in plundering his neighbours. His 
 finances were frequently indebted to similar means for 
 their supply. The King's favourite secretary M. Galser, 
 by his orders, caused fifteen millions of ducats to be 
 made in a very secret manner, with a third of base metal 
 in their composition. This sum was then entrusted to a 
 son of the Jew Ephraim, so well known in the history of 
 Frederic's coinage, for the purpose of having it circulated 
 in Poland, where it was accordingly employed in buying 
 up every portable article of value that could be found. 
 The Poles, however, soon discovered that they had been 
 imposed upon, and contrived to transfer the loss to their 
 neighbom's, by purchasing with the new ducats whatever 
 they could procm-e in Russia. The Russians, in like 
 maimer, found out the cheat, and complained so loudly 
 that the Empress interfered, and made inquiries, which 
 led to a discovery of the quarter whence the issue had 
 originally come. She then ordered the bad money to 
 be brought into her treasury, and exchanged it for good 
 coin. She insisted upon Frederic taking the false 
 ducats at their nominal value, which he did not dare to 
 refuse, but denied that he had any concern in the trans- 
 action ; and to prove tliis, sent for bis agent Galser, to 
 whom he communicated the dilemma in which he was, 
 and the necessity of giving liim up as the author of the 
 imposture. Galser objected to so dishonourable a pro- 
 posal. The King flew into a passion ; kicked him 
 violently on the shins, according to his custom ; sent 
 him to the fortress of Spandaw for a year and a half.
 
 FREDERIC II. 335 
 
 and then banished him to a remote village of Meck- 
 lenljurg. 
 
 Frederic acted towards his officers upon a principle 
 the most unjust, as well as unfeeling, that can be ima- 
 gined. It was his aim to encourage military service 
 among the higher ranks : the commonalty he conceived 
 were adapted for all the meaner employments in the 
 state, and should not occupy those stations in the army 
 which were, he thought, the birthright of the aristocracy. 
 But instead of carrying this view into effect, by the only 
 arrangement which was reconcileable with good faith — 
 establishing a certain standard of rank below which no 
 one should be admitted to hold a commission either in 
 peace or in war — he allowed persons of all descriptions 
 to enter the army as officers, when there was any occasion 
 for their services, and, after the necessity had ceased, 
 dismissed those whose nobility appeared questionable. 
 Thus, nothing could be more terrible to the brave men, 
 who for years had led his troops to victory, or shared in 
 their distresses, than the return of peace. After sacrifi- 
 cing their prospects in life, their best years, their health, 
 with their ease, to the most painful service, and sought, 
 through toils and wounds, and misei'y, the provision 
 which a certain rank in the profession affords, they were 
 liable, at a moment's warning, to be turned ignomini- 
 ously out of the army, whose fortunes they had followed, 
 because the king either discovered, or fancied, that their 
 family was deficient in rank. 
 
 We shall pass over the extreme jealousy with which 
 Frederic treated all those to whom he was under tlie ne- 
 cessity of confiding any matters of state. Nothing, in the 
 history of Eastern manners, exceeds the rigorous confine-
 
 336 FREDERIC II. 
 
 ment of the cabinet secretaries. But we shall proceed 
 to au example of the respect which the Justinian of the 
 North, the author of the Frederician code, paid to the per- 
 sons of those entrusted with the administration of justice 
 in his dominions. This great lawgiver seems never to 
 have discovered the propriety of leaving his judges to 
 investigate the claims of suitors, anymore than he could 
 see the advantage of committing to tradesmen and 
 farmers the management of their private affairs. In the 
 progress which he made round his states at the season 
 of the reviews, he used to receive from all quarters the 
 complaints of those who thought themselves aggrieved 
 by the course of justice ; and because he had to consider 
 the whole of these cases in addition to all the other 
 branches of his employment, he concluded that he must 
 be a more competent arbiter than they whose lives are de- 
 voted to the settlement of one part of such disputes. In 
 one of his excursions, a miller, a tenant of his own, com- 
 plained to him that his stream was injured by a neigh- 
 bouring proprietor ; and the king ordered his chancellor 
 to have the complaint investigated. The suit was 
 brought in form, and judgment given against the miller. 
 Next year, he renewed his application, and affirmed that 
 his narrative of the facts was perfectly true ; yet the court 
 had nonsuited him. The king remitted the cause to the 
 second tribunal, with injunctions to be careful in doing 
 the man justice : he was, however, again cast ; and once 
 more complained bitterly to the king, who secretly sent 
 a major of his army to examine on the spot the question 
 upon which his two highest judicatures had decided, and 
 to report. The gallant officer, who was also a neigh- 
 bour of the miller, reported in his favour ; and two other
 
 FREDERIC II. 337 
 
 persons, commissioned in the same private manner, re- 
 turned with similar answers. Frederic immediately 
 summoned his chancellor and the three judges who had 
 determined the cause : he received them in a passion , 
 would not allow them to speak a word in their defence ; 
 upbraided them as unjust judges, nay, as miscreants ; and 
 wrote out with his own hand a sentence in favour of the 
 miller, with full costs, and a siun as damages which he 
 had never claimed. He then dismissed the chancellor 
 from his office, with language too abusive to be repeated ; 
 and, after violently kicking the three judges in the shins, 
 pushed them out of his closet, and sent them to prison 
 at the fortress of Spandaw. All the other judges 
 and ministers of justice were clearly of opinion, that 
 the sentence originally given against the miller was a 
 right one, and that the case admitted of no doubt. As 
 for the chancellor, it was universally allowed that the 
 matter came not within his jurisdiction; and that he 
 could not possibly have known any thhig of the de- 
 cision. At last a foreign journalist undertook the inves- 
 tigation of the business ; and being placed beyond the 
 limits of the royal philosopher's caprice, he published 
 a statement which left no shadow of argument in the 
 miller's favour. As Frederic attended to what was 
 written abroad, and in French, Linguet's pi-oduction 
 quickly opened his eyes. Not a word was said in pub- 
 lic ; none of those measures were adopted, by which a 
 great mind would have rejoiced to acknowledge such 
 errors, and offer some atonement to outraged justice. 
 An irritable vanity alone seemed poorly to regulate the 
 ceremony of propitiation ; and he who had been mean 
 enough to insult the persons of his judges in the blind- 
 VOL. I. z
 
 338 FREDERIC II. 
 
 ness of anger, could scarcely be expected, after his eyes 
 were opened, to show that pride which makes men cease 
 to deserve blame, by avowing, while they atone for, their 
 faults. Orders were secretly given to the miller's adver- 
 saiy, that he should not obey the sentence. With the 
 same secrecy, a compensation was made to the miller 
 himself. The three judi>es, after lingering many months 
 in prison, were quietly liberated : the chancellor was 
 allowed to remain in disgrace, because he had been most 
 of all injui-ed ; and the faithful subjects of his majesty 
 knew too well their duty and his power, to interrupt this 
 paltry silence by any whispers upon what had passed. 
 
 If this system of interference, this intermeddling and 
 controuling spirit, thus appeared, even in the judicial de- 
 partment, much more might it be looked for in the other 
 branches of his administration. It was, in truth, the vice 
 of his whole reign ; not even suspended in its exercise 
 during war, but raging with redoubled violence, when 
 the comparative idleness of peace left his morbid activity 
 to prey upon itself. If any one is desirous of seeing 
 how certainly a government is unsuccessful in trade and 
 manufactures, he may consult the sketches of this 
 boasted statesman's speculations in that line, as profit- 
 ably as the accounts which have been published of the 
 royal works and fabrics in Spain. But there are parti- 
 culars in the policy of Frederic, exceeding, for absurdity 
 and violence, whatever is to be met witb in the descrip- 
 tions of Spanish political economy. We have only room 
 for running over a few detached examples. — When a 
 china manufactory was to be set a-going at Berlin on 
 the royal account, it was thought necessary to begin by 
 forcing a market for the wares. Accordingly, the Jews,
 
 FREDERIC II. 339 
 
 who cannot marry without the royal permission, were 
 obliged to pay for their licenses by purchasing a certain 
 quantity of the king's cups and saucers at a fixed price. — 
 The introduction of the silk culture was a favourite scheme 
 with Frederic ; and to make silk-worms spin and mul- 
 berry-trees grow in the Prussian sands, no expense must 
 be spared. Vast houses and manufactories were built 
 for such as chose to engage in the speculation ; a direct 
 premium was granted on the exportation of silk stuffs ; 
 and medals were awarded to the workmen who produced 
 above five pounds of the article in a year. But nature is 
 very powerful, even among Prussian grenadiers. In the 
 lists of exports we find no mention made of silk, Avhile it 
 forms a considerable and a regular branch of the goods 
 impoi-ted. — The settlement of colonists in waste lands 
 was another object of eminent attention and propor- 
 tionate expense. Foreign families were enticed and 
 transported by the crimps whom he employed all over 
 Europe for recruiting his forces ; they received grants 
 of land ; were provided with houses, implements, and 
 live-stock, and furnished with subsistence, until their 
 farms became sufficiently productive to support them. 
 Frederic called this supplying the blanks which war 
 made in his population. — His rage for encouraging the 
 introduction of new speculations was quite ungovern- 
 able. No sooner did his emissaries inform him of any 
 ingenious manufacturer or mechanic, in France or 
 elsewhere, than he bribed him to settle in Berlin, by 
 the most extravagant terms. When he found the suc- 
 cess of the project too slow, or its gains, from the ne- 
 cessity of circumstances, fell short of expectation, he 
 had only one way of getting out of the scrape ; — he 
 
 z 2
 
 340 FREDERIC II. 
 
 broke his baigiiiii with the undertaker, and generally 
 sent him to a fortress ; in the course of which transac- 
 tion, it always happened that somebody interfered, un- 
 der the character of a minister, a favourite, &c., to pil- 
 lage both parties. Experience never seemed to correct 
 this propensity. It was at an advanced period of his 
 reign that he sent orders to his ambassadoi's to find him 
 a general projector — a man who might be employed 
 AvhoUy in fancying new schemes, and discussing those 
 which should be submitted to him. Such a one was 
 accordingly procured, and tempted, by large bribes, to 
 settle at Potsdam. 
 
 Frederic's grand instrument in political economy 
 was the establishment of monopolies. Whether an 
 art was to be encouraged, or a public taste modi- 
 fied, or a revenue gleaned, or the balance of trade 
 adjusted, a monopoly was the expedient. Thus the ex- 
 clusive privilege was granted to one family, of supply- 
 ing Berlin and Potsdam Avith firewood ; the price was 
 instantly doubled ; and the king received no more than 
 eight thousand a year of the profits. W'ell did the ce- 
 lebrated Helvetius remark of some applications for such 
 contracts, upon which the king demanded his sentiments, 
 " Sire, you need not trouble yourself with reading them 
 through; they all speak the same language — ' IVe 
 beseech your Majesty to grant us leave to rob your 
 people of such a sum ; in consideration of which, we 
 engage to pay you a certain share of the pillage.' " 
 Frederic was led to conceive that his subjects drank too 
 much coffee in projwrtion to their means, and ate too 
 little nourishing food. Tiie universal remedy was ap- 
 plied ; and the sujtply of all the coffee used within his
 
 FREDERIC II. 341 
 
 doniinions given exclusively to a company. The price 
 was thus, as he had wished, greatly raised, and some of 
 the spoil shared with his treasury ; but the taste of the 
 people remained as determined in favour of coffee as 
 before, and of course was much more detrimental to 
 their living. Tobacco, in like manner, he subjected to 
 a strict monopoly; and when he wished to have arms 
 furnished very cheap to his troops, lie had again re- 
 course to his usual expedient : he conferred upon the 
 house of Daum and Splikberg, armourers, the exclusive 
 privilege of refining sugar, on condition that they should 
 sell him muskets and caps at a very low price. In all 
 his fiscal policy, he was an anxious observer of the 
 balance of trade, and never failed to cast a pensive eye 
 upon the tables of exports and imports. " Every year," 
 says one of his panegyrists, " did he calculate with ex- 
 treme attention the sums which came into his states, 
 and those which went out ; and he saw, with uneasiness, 
 that the balance was not so favourable as it ought to 
 be."* After all his monopolies and premiums for the 
 encouragement of production, he found, it seems, that 
 the exports of his kingdom could not be augmented. 
 "Therefore," adds this author, "he had only one re- 
 source left — to diminish the importation ;" which he 
 accordingly attempted, by new monopolies and pro- 
 hibitions. 
 
 It remains, before completing our estimate of Frede- 
 ric's character, that we should recollect his public con- 
 duct in the commonwealth of Europe, where he was 
 Iwrn to hold so conspicuous a station. And here, while 
 
 * Thiebault, iv. 121.
 
 342 FREDERIC II. 
 
 we wonder at the abilities which led him to success, it 
 is impossible not to admit that they belonged to that in- 
 ferior order which can brook an alliance with profligacy 
 and entire want of principle. The history of the 
 Prussian monarchy, indeed, is that of an empire 
 scraped together by industry, and fraud, and violence, 
 from neighbouring states. By barter, and conquest, and 
 imposture, its manifold districts have been gradually 
 brought under one dynasty ; not a patch of the motley 
 mass, but recalls the venality or weakness of the sur- 
 rounding powers, and the unprincipled usurpations of 
 the house of Brandenburgh. But it was Frederic II. 
 whose strides, far surpassing those of liis ancestors, 
 raised his family to the rank of a primary power; 
 enabled liim to baffle the coalition which his ambition 
 had raised against liim ; and gave the means of forming, 
 himself, a new conspiracy for the destruction of what- 
 ever principles had been held most sacred by the poten- 
 tates of modern times. It is in vain that we dissemble 
 with ourselves, and endeavour to forget our own conduct 
 at that fatal crisis. We may rail at Jacobinism, and the 
 French Revolution — impute to the timidity of the other 
 powers the insolent dominion of Republican Finance — 
 and exhaust our effeminate license of tongue upon the 
 chief, who, by wielding her destinies, made liimself 
 master of half the world. Europe suffered by, and is 
 still suffering for the partition of Poland. Then it was, 
 that public principles were torn up and scattered before 
 the usurpers of the day ; — then it was, that England 
 and France pooily refused to suspend their mutual 
 animosities, and associate in support of right, when 
 other states, forgetting greater jealousies, were com-
 
 FREDERIC II. 343 
 
 billed to violate the law ; — tlien it was, that power be- 
 came the measure of duty — that ambition learnt all 
 the lessons which it has since been practising of arron- 
 dhsements, and equivalents, and indemnities — that an 
 assurance of impunity and success was held out to those 
 who might afterwards abandon all principle, provided 
 they were content with a share of the plunder, and 
 that the lesson was learnt which the settlers of Europe 
 practised in 1814 and 1815, the lesson which they are 
 again practising in 1839, of transferring from the weak 
 to the strong whatever portions of territory it may 
 please them to take, without consulting the wishes of 
 the inhabitants more than the cattle that drag the plough 
 through their fields. While we look back with detesta- 
 tion, then, on the conduct of those powers who per- 
 petrated the crime, and most of all on Frederic who 
 contrived it, let us also reflect, with shame, on the 
 pusillanimity of those who saw, yet helped not ; and, in 
 justice to the memory of a truly great man, let us bear 
 in mind, that he who afterwards warned us against the 
 usurpations of France at their nearer approach, raised 
 his voice against the dereliction of principle which 
 paved the way for them in the Partition of Poland.* 
 
 The details into which we have entered, as descriptive 
 of Frederic's character, may seem to be out of keeping 
 in a sketch like this. But the universal belief of his 
 greatness, and the disposition to exalt his merits because 
 of the success which followed his ambition, renders it 
 necessary to reduce those merits to their true dimen- 
 sions, which no general description could effect. 
 
 * Mr. Burke.
 
 344 fredb;ric ii. 
 
 Upon the whole, all well-regulated minds will turn 
 from a minute view of this famous personage, impressed 
 M'itli no veneration for his character, either as a member 
 of society, a ruler of the people, or a part of the 
 European community. That he possessed the talents 
 of an accomplished warrior, and an elegant wit, it 
 would be absurd to deny, and superfluous to demon- 
 strate, lie has left us, in his victories and his 
 writings, the best proofs ; and all that is preserved of 
 his conversation leads to a belief that it surpassed his 
 more careful efforts. He ranked unquestionably in the 
 first class of warriors ; nor is it doubtful that the system 
 by which, when carried to its full extent. Napoleon's 
 victories were gained, had its origin in the strategy of 
 Frederic, — the plan, namely, of rapidly moving vast 
 masses of troops, and always bringing a superior force 
 to bear upon the point of attack. His admmistration, 
 whether militai-y or civil, was smgularly marked by 
 promptitude and energy. Wherever active exertion was 
 required, or could secure success, he was likely to pre- 
 vail ; and as he \\as in all things a master of those in- 
 ferior abilities which constitute what we denominate 
 address, it is not ^vonderful that he was uniformly for- 
 tunate in the cabuiets of his neighbours. The encou- 
 ragements which he lavished on learned men were use- 
 ful, though not always skilfully bestowed ; and in this, 
 as in all the departments of his government, we see him 
 constantly working mischief by working too much. His 
 Academy was no less under command than the best dis- 
 ciplined regiment in his service ; and did not refuse to 
 acknowledge Ids authority upon matters of scientific 
 opinion or of taste in the arts. His own literary ac-
 
 FREDERIC II. 345 
 
 quirements were limited to the belles lettres, and moral 
 sciences ; even of these he was far from being completely 
 master. His practice, as an administrator, is incon- 
 sistent with an extensive or sound political knowledge ; 
 and his acquaintance with the classics was derived from 
 French translations ; he knew very little Latin, and no 
 Greek. To his sprightliness in society, and his love of 
 literary company, so rare in princes, he owes the repu- 
 tation of a philosopher ; and to the success of his intrigues 
 and his arms, the appellation of Great : — a title ^vhich 
 is the less honourable, that mankind have generally 
 agreed to bestow it upon those to whom their gratitude 
 was least of all due.
 
 GUSTAVUS III. 
 
 The nephew of Frederic II. was Gustavus III. of 
 Sweden, and hie is certainly entitled to rank among the 
 more distinguished men of his age. It was the saying 
 of Frederic, " My nephew is an extraordinary per- 
 son ; he succeeds in all he undertakes ;" and consider- 
 ing the difficulties of his position, the adverse circum- 
 stances in which some of his enterprises were attempted, 
 his success amply justified the panegyric at the time it 
 was pronounced, and before the military disasters of his 
 reign. 
 
 He was born with a great ambition to distinguish, 
 both his country among the nations of Europe and him- 
 self among her sovereigns. Inflamed with the recol- 
 lection of former Swedish monarchs, and impatient of 
 the low position to which the ancient renown of liis 
 country had fallen through a succession of feeble 
 princes, he formed the project of relieving the crown 
 from the trammels imposed upon it by an overwhelming 
 aristocracy, as the only means by which the old glories 
 of Sweden could be revived, and the influence of the 
 Gustavuses and the Charleses restored. The king of 
 the country, indeed, when he ascended the throne was 
 its sovereign only in name. He had all the responsi- 
 bility of the government cast upon him ; he had all its 
 weight resting upon his shoulders ; he had all the 
 odium of executing the laws to suppress sedition, to
 
 GUSTAVUS III. 347 
 
 levy taxes, to punish offenders. But neither in making 
 those laws, nor in guiding the policy of the state, nor 
 in administering its resources, had he any perceptible 
 influence whatever. The crown was a mere pageant 
 of state, wholly destitute of power, and only supposed 
 to exist because the multitude, accustomed to be go- 
 verned by kings, required acts of authority to be pro- 
 mulged in the royal name, and because it was conve- 
 nient to have some quarter upon which the blame of all 
 that was unpopular in the conduct of the government 
 might rest. The real po^ver of the state was certainly 
 in the hands of the Aristocracy, who ruled, through the 
 medium of the States, an assembly of nominal represent- 
 atives of the country in which the order of the nobles 
 alone bore sway. The Senate in fact governed the 
 country. In them was vested almost all the patronage 
 of the state ; they could compel meetings of the Diet at 
 any time ; they even claimed the command of the 
 army, and issued their orders to the troops without the 
 king's consent. 
 
 When Gustavuswas abroad on his travels, being then 
 about 22 years of age, his father died, and from Paris, 
 where the intelligence reached him, he addressed a De- 
 claration filled with the most extravagant expressions of 
 devotion to the constitution, zeal for the liberties of his 
 people, and abhorrence of everything tending towards 
 absolute government, or what in Sweden is termed 
 " Sovereignty ;" for the Swedes, like the Romans, re- 
 garded monarchy, except in name, as equivalent to 
 tyranny. He vowed that " deeming it his chiefest 
 glory to be the first citizen of a free state" he should 
 regard all those " as his worst enemies who, being 
 traitorous to the country, should upon any pretext what-
 
 348 GUSTAVUS III. 
 
 ever seek to introduce unlimited royal authority into 
 Sweden," and he reminded the States of the oath which 
 he had solemnly sworn to the constitution. Those who 
 read this piece were struck with the overdone expres- 
 sions in which it was couched ; and profound observers 
 did not hesitate to draw conclusions wholly unfavour- 
 able to the sincerity of the royal author. On his arrival 
 in Sweden, whither he was in little haste to return, he 
 renewed the same vows of fealty to the existing consti- 
 tution ; signed the articles of the Capitulation tendered 
 by the States in the usual form, articles which left him 
 the name of king and the shadow of royal authority ; 
 absolved the States and his subjects from their allegiance 
 should he depart from his engagements, and menaced 
 with his " utmost wrath all who should dare to propose 
 a single degree of addition to the present power or 
 splendour of the crown." At his Coronation, which 
 was postponed to the next year, he volunteered an ad- 
 ditional display of gratuitous hypocrisy and fraud, when, 
 having taken the oaths to the constitution, he ex- 
 claimed *' Unhappy the king who wants the tie of oaths 
 to secure himself on the throne, and, unable to reign in 
 the hearts of his people, is forced to rule by legal con- 
 straint !" 
 
 Thus did this accomplished dissembler contrive, for 
 above a year and a half, to keep up the appearance 
 of a constitutional king, while in all his works and 
 actions he affected the republican, and even overdid 
 the part. At length his preparations being completed, 
 he cast the mask away, excited an insurrection of 
 troops in two distant fortresses to distract the senate's 
 attention, and having gained over the regiments in the 
 capital, secured the persons of the senators, assembled
 
 GUSTAVUS III. 349 
 
 the other Estates in a hall surrounded with soldiery, and 
 against which guns were planted and men stationed 
 with lighted matches, while he dictated a new constitu- 
 tion, vesting absolute power in the crown, and annihi- 
 lating the influence of both the nobility and the re- 
 presentatives of the people. This outrageous act of 
 combined treachery and violence he concluded as he 
 had begun with the mockei-y of oaths, and the most ex- 
 travagant cant of piety. He swore to the new constitu- 
 tion ; he invoked the Divine blessings on it in an hypo- 
 critical prayer ; and he ended by ordering all present 
 to sing a psalm, of which he gave out the first line and 
 led the air. Certainly so gross an instance of sustained 
 ialsehood and fraud, in all its departments, was never 
 either before or since exhibited by any even of the royal 
 hypocrites who have at various times encroached, by stra- 
 tagem and by perjury, upon the liberties of mankind. 
 
 It is fit that the history of this transaction should he 
 set forth in its own hateful colours, because it both was 
 at the time, and has been since, made the subject of 
 great panegyric among the admirers of successful 
 crime. Mankind will never be without oppressors as 
 long as they act against their own best interests by con- 
 spiring against those of virtue, and make impostors of 
 statesmen and tyrants of princes by transferring to suc- 
 cess the praise that should be reserved for virtue, vene- 
 rating fortune rather than prudence, and defrauding the 
 wise and the good of their just applause, or suffering it 
 to be shared with the profligate and the daring. A 
 premium is thus held out for unscrupulous violence and 
 unprincipled fraud, when the failure of the wor.st and 
 the best designs is alone and alike condemned, and the
 
 350 GUST AV us III. 
 
 means by which success is achieved are lost sight of in 
 the false lustre that surrounds it. 
 
 But tried by a far lower standard than that of public 
 virtue, the conduct of Gustavus manifestly fails. If 
 nothing could more betray a base disposition than 
 his consummate hypocrisy, so nothing could more 
 show a paltry mind than the practising his fraudulent 
 pretences when they were wholly unnecessary for his 
 purpose. He might have plotted the overthrow of the 
 constitution just as safely and with quite as much 
 chance of success had he accepted the constitution in 
 the ordinary way, and signed the usual Capitulation as a 
 matter of course. No one objected to his title ; while 
 his father yet lived he had been acknowledged the next 
 heir ; his succession was certain on his father's death ; 
 and if anything could have directed suspicion to his 
 hidden designs it was the pains he took, by his extrava- 
 gant professions of zealous devotion to Liberty, to show 
 that he was plotting against her. He had nothing to 
 do but to plan his operations in secret, and in secret 
 to obtain the support of the four or five regiments by 
 which he effected his purpose. All his vile canting, 
 both in the declaration from Paris, and in the speech 
 on swearing to the constitution, was utterly useless ; 
 it only showed a petty understanding as well as a cor- 
 rupt heart. 
 
 Truly he was a profligate man in every sense of the 
 word. He delighted in cunning for cunning's sake. 
 He preferred accomplishing his ends by trick, and the 
 more tricky any course was, the more dexterous he 
 thought his pursuit of it, and the better he liked it. His 
 abilities were unquestionable, but they were on a paltry
 
 GUSTAVUS III. 351 
 
 scale ; his resolution was undoubted, but he was placed 
 in circumstances which enabled him to avoid running 
 any great risks ; for nothing can be more unwieldy than 
 a Senate of sixty or seventy persons as directing a mili- 
 tary force ; and the mob Avas for him and against them. 
 That he shewed great coolness through the whole 
 aflfair is not denied. He quietly effected the Revolution 
 on the 21st of August, and retired to a country seat 
 twenty miles from Stockholm, Ekolsund, afterwards 
 the property of a Scotch gentleman, named Seton, 
 whom he ennobled. We have seen there a line or 
 two written by him on the window-shutter, with tlie 
 above date, and purporting that, " On this day, he had 
 come there after the Revolution." When the supreme 
 power was lodged in his own hands, although he main- 
 tained it without even a struggle, and aftenvards still 
 further extended it by a second breach of the consti- 
 tution (which in 1772 he had as solemnly sworn to 
 maintain, as he had the one which he then overthrew), 
 yet there was nothing enlarged or successful in his ad- 
 ministration of public affairs, nothing in his policy 
 which showed an enlightened or well-informed any 
 more than a liberal mind. Supporting an East India 
 Company, and prohibiting the use of coffee under se- 
 vere penalties to encourage their trade in tea, or pro- 
 hibiting French brandy to protect the distillation of a 
 very bad spirit from corn, were the greatest reach of 
 his genius for economical improvements ; while, by his 
 military expenditure and his fraudulent tampering first 
 with the coin and afterwards with the paper currency, 
 which he issued in excess, he so reduced the standard, 
 that soon after his death it was at a discount of nearly
 
 352 GUSTAVUS III. 
 
 50 per cent, below par. The bank paper kept its value ; 
 but with this he managed to interfere, and in a manner 
 so scandalous that the historj- of royal ])rofligacy pre- 
 sents no second example of anything so mean and base. 
 An extensive forgerj^ was committed in Hamburgh or 
 Altona upon the Stockholm Bank by parties whom he 
 employed and then gave up. The Bank having de- 
 tected it in time was saved from ruin, though impo- 
 verished ; and the agents in the infamous plot reaped 
 the usual reward of those who suffer themselves to be 
 made the instruments in the villanies of princes ; they 
 were punished because their principal was beyond the 
 reach of the law, and they wandered abroad exiles for 
 the rest of their days. 
 
 In his military capacity he showed talents of consi- 
 derable extent, though, as in other respects, not of the 
 first order. He was active, enterprising, prodigal of liis 
 person ; but so little measuring his desiijns by his means, 
 that he obtained for himself the reputation of being a 
 restless prince rather than the fame of a considerable 
 warrior ; and so little equal to form great and happy 
 and well-considered combinations, that he never went 
 beyond daring and brilliarit failures. The absolute in- 
 fluence of Russia under the Aristocratic government hav- 
 ing been put an end to by the Revolution, ever after 
 1772 Catherine was plotting to regain her ascendant, or 
 to obtain by force a still more undisputed sway over 
 Swedish affairs. To all her intrigues Gustavus was 
 alive, and often succeeded in counteracting them ; to all 
 her insidious proposals he was deaf, seeing through their 
 real object, as when she would have inveigled him into 
 a partition of Denmark, Norway to become Russian,
 
 GUSTAVIJS III. 353 
 
 and Jutland with the Islands Swedish, he made answer, 
 that " She should not put her arm roimd his neck to 
 strangle him." Indeed there can be little doubt that she 
 only wished to draw him into a snare by obtaining his 
 consent, that she might betray him to Denmark, and 
 join with her in destroying him. When, therefore, the 
 terms on which these two profligate Sovereigns were 
 with each other had become as unfriendly as possible, 
 and he found Russia engaged on the side of Turkey in 
 a very difficult warfare, he seized the opportunity of at- 
 tacking her, and sailed with a fleet up the gulf of Fin- 
 land, so as to threaten Petersburgh by his approach. 
 His first operations were successful, though on a small 
 scale, and in a degree far from decisive. A battle was 
 then fought in circumstances so adverse to any such ope- 
 ration, that it seemed as much contrary to nature in a 
 physical as in a moral view ; for the channel was nar- 
 row, studded with islands, broken with rocks at every 
 step, and defying all nautical skill to steer through 
 unless with favouring weather, and without any other 
 occupation than that of seamanship. Yet here did the 
 hostile fleets engage for many hours, with immense 
 slaughter on both sides, and so balanced a result, that 
 each claimed the victory. The Russians, however, being 
 greatly superior in numbers, kept the sea afterwards, 
 and the Swedes retreated . An opposition in the Senate 
 interposed new obstacles to Gustavus's projects, and he 
 treated this with his wonted vigour. Appealing for sup- 
 port to the other orders, and then surrounding that re- 
 fractory and disaffected body with troops on whose fide- 
 lity he could rely, he arrested five and thirty of them, 
 and abolished the Senate by a sudden change of his own 
 VOL. I. 2 a
 
 354 GUSTAVUS III. 
 
 constitution, and a new violation of his most solemn en- 
 gagements. His next campaign was thus freed from 
 political embarrassment, but it was throughout disastrous. 
 Defeated by sea, on shore he was still more unfortunate ; 
 his army, oificers, as well as men, refused to obey him ; 
 and he was reduced to the deplorable expedient, easily 
 suggested by the rooted falseness of his nature, of amus- 
 ing the people with fictitious accounts of his proceed- 
 ings ; but his fictions were so clumsy, that their self- 
 contradictions betrayed their origin, and the honest 
 Prince of Nassau was induced to complain formally of 
 such a proceeding, bluntly and ineffectually reminding 
 the monarch that such gross and apparent falsehoods 
 were wholly unworthy a man who was always desirous 
 of playing the warrior and the hero. 
 
 In these disastrous scenes, from the consequences of 
 which Sweden did not recover for many years, and the 
 effects of which long survived their author, it is admitted 
 on all hands that his abilities were advantageously 
 shown, but above all, that his courage was uniformly 
 displayed in an eminent degree. It is doubtful if any 
 capacity could have made up for the vast disparity of 
 strength between the two parties who were thus matched 
 in such unequal combat ; but he often succeeded where 
 an ordinary man would never have ventured ; and al- 
 though he could not be said to display first-rate talents 
 for war, he yet had no reason to be ashamed of the part 
 he played in its operations. 
 
 In private life his profligacy was of the grossest de- 
 scription ; and with the same preposterous folly which 
 made him prefer the most crooked paths in order to show 
 his cunning, he thought that his grand object of civilising
 
 GUSTAVUS III. 355 
 
 his dominions could be accomplished by patronising the 
 introduction of foreign vices from other climates among 
 the hardy and sober children of the North. He was, 
 however, a patron of the fine arts ; greatly improved 
 the architecture of his capital ; established an opera on a 
 respectable scale ; and encouraged some excellent artists, 
 of whom Sergei, the sculptor, was the most eminent. 
 
 His personal accomplishments were considerable ; 
 his information was much above that of ordinary 
 princes ; and though he never attempted so much as his 
 uncle of Prussia, nor possessed equally the superficial 
 kind of learning which that prince prided himself upon, 
 he certainly wrote a great deal better, or rather less 
 badly, and probably was not really his inferior in a li- 
 terary point of view. His manners and address were 
 extremely engaging, and he was greatly above the 
 folly of standing on the dignity of his station, as his 
 liberal, literary uncle, Frederick, always did ; who, 
 willing enough to pass for a wit among kings, was al- 
 ways ready enough to be a king among wits, so that 
 when the wit was beaten in fair argument, he might call 
 in the king to his assistance. Gustavus, though a far in- 
 ferior person in other respects, was greatly above 
 such mean vanity as this ; ever showed sufficient con- 
 fidence in his own resources to meet his company upon 
 equal terms ; and having once begun the discussion by 
 admitting them to the same footing with himself, scorned 
 to change his ground or his character, and substitute 
 authority for argument or for repartee. It was the ob- 
 servation of a man well versed in courts, and who had 
 seen much of all the princes of his time,* that Gustavus 
 
 * Sir Robert Listen. 
 
 2 A 2
 
 356 GIISTAVUS III. 
 
 III. was almost the only one of tlieni who would have 
 been reckoned a clever man in society had he been born 
 a subject. 
 
 The same spirit which he showed in the field, and in 
 his political measures, he displayed equally in the va- 
 rious attempts made upon his life. The arsenals and 
 museums of Stockholm have several deadly instruments 
 preserved in them, which were aimed at his person ; and 
 in no instance did he ever lose his presence of mind, or 
 let the attempt be known, which by some extraordinary 
 accident had failed. At last he fell by an assassin's 
 hand. For some mysterious reason, apparently uncon- 
 nected with political matters, an officer named Anker- 
 stroem, not a noble or connected with the nobility, shot 
 him in the back at a masquerade. The ground of 
 quarrel apparently was personal : different accounts, 
 some more discreditable to the monarch than others, 
 are given of it ; but nothing has been ascertained on 
 sufficient evidence ; and these are subjects upon which 
 no public end is served by collecting or preserving con- 
 jectures. To dwell upon them rather degrades history 
 into gossiping or tale-bearing, and neither explains 
 men's motives, nor helps us to weigh more accurately 
 the merits of their conduct any more than to ascertain 
 its springs. 
 
 The story of the fortunes of this prince presents 
 no unimportant lesson to statesmen of the relative 
 value of those gifts which they are wont most to prize, 
 and the talents which they are fondest of cultivat- 
 ing. A useful moral may also be drawn from the tale 
 of so many fine endowments being thrown away, and 
 failing to earn an enduring renown, merely because they
 
 GUSTAVUS III. 357 
 
 were unconnected with good principles, and unaccom- 
 panied by right feelings. The qualities which he pos- 
 sessed, or improved, or acquired, were those most cal- 
 culated to strike the vulgar, and to gain the applause 
 of the unreflecting multitude. Brave, determined, 
 gifted as well with political courage as with personal 
 valour, quick of apprehension, capable of application, 
 patient of fatigue, well informed on general subjects, 
 elegant, lively, and agreeable in society, affable, relying 
 on his merits in conversation, and overbearing with his 
 rank none that approached him — who so well fitted 
 to win all hearts, if common popularity were his 
 object, or to gain lasting fame if he had chosen to 
 build upon such foundations a superstructure of glorious 
 deeds ? But not content with being prudent and poli- 
 tic, he nuist affect the power of being able to deceive 
 all mankind ; wise only by halves, he must mistake 
 cunning for sagacity ; perverted in his taste by vanity, 
 he must prefer out-witting men by trickery to over- 
 coming them by solid reason or by fair designs ; pre- 
 posterously thinking that the greater the treachery the 
 deeper the policy, he must overlay all his schemes with 
 superfluous hypocrisy and dissimulation. Even his 
 courage availed him little ; because looking only to 
 the outside of things, and provident only lor the first 
 step, he never profoundly formed his plans, nor ever 
 thought of suiting his measures to his means. Thus 
 in war he left the reputation only of fiiilure and 
 defeat; nor did the fame which he acquired by his suc- 
 cessful political movements long outlive him, when men 
 saw to how little account he was capable of turning the 
 power which he had been fortunate enough to obtain by
 
 358 GusTAVus in. 
 
 his bold and managing spirit. For many years men ob- 
 serving the contrast which he presented to other princes 
 in his personal demeanour, and dazzled with the success 
 of his political enterprises, lavished their admiration upon 
 Lim with little stint, and less reflection; nor would 
 they, had his dominions been more extensive, and his 
 actions performed on a less confined theatre, have hesi- 
 tated in bestowing upon him the title of " Great," 
 with which they are wont to reward then- worst ene- 
 mies for their worst misdeeds, and to seduce sovereigns 
 into the paths of tyranny and war. But he outlived 
 the fame which he had early acquired. To his victories 
 over the aristocracy at home succeeded his defeats by 
 the enemy abroad. It was discovered that a prince 
 may be more clever and accomplished than others, 
 without being more useful to Ms people, or more capable 
 of performing great actions ; and the wide difference 
 between genius and ability was never more marked than 
 in him. By degrees the eyes even of his contempora- 
 ries were opened to the truth ; and then the vile arts of 
 treachery, in which it was his unnatural pride to excel, 
 became as hateful to men of sound principles as his 
 preposterous reUsh for such bad distinction was dis- 
 gustful to men of correct taste and right feeUngs. Of 
 all his reputation, at one time sufliciently brilhant, not 
 any vestige now remains conspicuous enough to tempt 
 others into his crooked paths; and the recollections 
 associated with his story, while they bring contempt 
 upon his name, are only fitted to warn men against the 
 sliame that attends lost opportunities and prostituted 
 talents.
 
 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 A GREAT contrast in every respect to Gustavus III. 
 was presented by another Prince who flourished in the 
 same age, Josepli II. In almost all qualities, both of 
 tlie understanding and the heart, he diflfered widely 
 from his contemporary of the North. With abilities 
 less shining though more solid, and which he had cul- 
 tivated more diligently ; with far more information 
 acquired somewhat after the laborious German fashion ; 
 with so little love for trick or value for his own address, 
 that he rather plumed hiniself on being a stranger to 
 those arts, and on being defective in the ordinary pro- 
 vision of cunning which the deceitful atmosphere of 
 courts renders almost necessary as a protection against 
 circumvention ; with ambition to excel but not confined 
 to love of military glory ; with no particular wish to 
 exalt his own authority, nor any indisposition to acquire 
 fame by extending the happiness of his people — although 
 presenting to the vulgar gaze a less striking object than 
 Gustavus, he was in all important particulars a far 
 more considerable person, and wanted but little from 
 nature, though certainly much from fortune, to have 
 left behind him a great and lasting reputation. That 
 which he did want was, however, sufficient to destroy 
 all chance of realising an eminent station among the 
 lights of the world : for his judgment was defective ; 
 he was more restless than persevering ; and though not
 
 360 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 at all wanting in powers of labour, yet be often tbouglit 
 of royal roads to liis object, and leaving tbose steep 
 and circuitous routes whicli nature has formed along 
 the ascents, would fall into what has been termed by 
 Lord Bacon, the paradox of power — desiring to attain 
 the end without submitting to use the means. Success 
 in such circumstances was hopeless; and accident con- 
 tributed largely to multiply and exaggerate his failures, 
 insomuch that the unhappy monarch on his death-bed 
 exclaimed in the anguish of his spirit, that his epitaph 
 should be — " Here lies Joseph, who was unsuccessful 
 in all his undertakings," Men looking to the event, 
 rated him very far below his real value, and gave hmi 
 credit for none of the abilities and few of the virtues 
 which he really possessed. Notlaing can be more unjust, 
 more foolish in itself or more mischievous in its conse- 
 quences, than the almost universal determination of 
 the world to reckon nothing in a prince of any value 
 but brilliant talents, and to account worth of little avail 
 in that station in which it is of the most incalculable 
 importance. Nay, let a royal life be ever so much 
 disfigured with crime, if it have nothing mean, that is, 
 if its vices be all on a great scale, and especially if it 
 be covered with military successes, little of the repro- 
 bation due to its demerits will be expressed, as if the 
 greatest of public enormities, the excesses of ambition, 
 effected a composition for the worst private faults. 
 Even our James I. is the object of contempt not so 
 much for tlie vile life he led as for his want of spirit and 
 deficiency in warlike accomplishments ; and, if the only 
 one of his faihngs which was beneficial to his subjects 
 had not existed hi his character, his name would have
 
 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 361 
 
 descended to us with general respect among the Harries 
 and the Edwards of an earlier aee. 
 
 It was in some degree unfortunate for the fame of 
 Joseph that he came after so able and so celebrated a 
 personage as his mother, Maria Theresa. But this 
 circumstance also proved injurious to his education ; 
 for the Empress Queen was resolved that her son, 
 even when clothed by the Election of tlie Germanic 
 Diet with the Imperial title, should exercise none of 
 its prerogatives during her life ; and long after he had 
 arrived at man's estate, he was held in a kind of tute- 
 lage by that bold and politic Princess. Having there- 
 fore finished his studies, and perceiving that at home he 
 was destined to remain a mere cipher while she ruled, 
 he went abroad, and travelled into those dominions in 
 Italy nominally his own, but where he had no more 
 concern with the government than the meanest of his 
 subjects ; and from thence he visited the rest of the 
 Italian states. An eager, but an indiscriminate thirst 
 of knowledge distinguished him wherever he went ; 
 there was no subject which he would not master, no 
 kind of information which he would not amass ; nor 
 were any details too minute for him to collect. Nothing 
 can be more praiseworthy than a sovereign thus acquaint- 
 ing himself thoroughly mth the concerns of the people 
 over whom he is called to rule ; and the undistin- 
 guishing ardour of his studies can lead to little other 
 harm than the losing tune, or preventing the acquisi- 
 tion of important matters by distracting the attention 
 to trifles. But his activity was as indiscriminate as his 
 inquiries, and he both did some harm and exposed him- 
 self to much ridicule by the conduct which it prompted.
 
 362 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 He must needs visit the convents, and inspect the works 
 of the nuns ; nor rest satisfied until he imposed on those 
 whose needle moved less quickly than suited his notions 
 of female industry, the task of making shirts for the 
 soldiery. So his ambition was equally undistinguish- 
 ing and unreflecting ; nor did he consider that the 
 things which it led him to imitate might well be void 
 of all merit in him, though highly important in those 
 whose example he was following to the letter regard- 
 less of the spirit. Thus, because the Emperor of China 
 encourages agriculture by driving, at some solemn festi- 
 val, a plough with the hand that holds at other times 
 the celestial sceptre, the Emperor of Germany must 
 needs plough a ridge in the Milanese, where of course 
 a monument was erected to perpetuate this act of 
 princely folly. 
 
 But of all his admirations, that which he entertained 
 for the great enemy of his house, his mother, and his 
 crown, was the most preposterous. During the Seven- 
 years' war, which threatened the existence of all three, he 
 would fain have served a campaign under Frederick II.; 
 and although he might probably have had the decency 
 to station himself on the northern frontier where Russia 
 was the enemy, yet no one can wonder at the Empress 
 Queen prohibiting her son from taking the recreation 
 of high treason to amuse his leisure hours, and occu- 
 pying his youth and exposing his person in shaking the 
 throne which he was one day to fill. At length, how- 
 ever, the day arrived which he had so long eagerly 
 panted for, when he was to become personally ac- 
 quainted with the idol of his devotion. His inflexible 
 parent had, in 1766, prevented them from meeting at
 
 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 363 
 
 Torgau ; but three years after they had an interview 
 of some days at Neiss in Silesia, the important province 
 which Frederick had wrested from the Austrian crown. 
 The veteran monarch has well conveyed an idea of his 
 admirer in one of his historical works, which indeed 
 contains very few sketches of equal merit : — " II aiFectoit 
 une franchise qui lui sembloit naturelle ; son caractere 
 aimable marquoit de la gaiete jointe a la vivacite ; mais 
 avec le desir d'apprendre, il n'avoit pas la patience de 
 s'instruire." And certainly this impatience of the 
 means, proportioned to an eagerness for the end, was 
 the distinguishing feature of his whole character and 
 conduct through life, from the most important to the 
 most trivial of his various pursuits. 
 
 Although Frederick had a perfect right to look down 
 upon Joseph in this view as well as in many others, and 
 although there can be no sort of comparison between 
 the two men in general, yet is it equally certain that in 
 one most important particular a close resemblance may 
 be traced between them, and the same defect may be 
 found marring the projects of both. Their internal 
 administration was marked with the same intermeddling 
 and controlling spirit, than which a more mischievous 
 character cannot belong to any system of rule. It is 
 indeed an error into which all sovereigns and all minis- 
 ters are very apt to fall, when they avoid the opposite, 
 perhaps safer, extreme of indifference to their duties. 
 Nor was he the more likely to steer a middle course, 
 whose power had no limits ; whose ideas of government 
 were taken from the mechanical discipline of an army ; 
 and whose abilities so far exceeded the ordinary lot of 
 royal understandings, that he seemed to have some
 
 364 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 grounds for thinking himself capable of every thing, 
 while he despised the talents of every body else. Yet 
 must it be allowed, that if all other proofs were want- 
 ing, this one undoubted imperfection in Frederick's 
 nature is a sufficient ground for ranking him among 
 inferior minds, and for denying him those higher quali- 
 ties of the understanding which render such faculties bene- 
 ficial, as he un([uestionably possessed. A truly great genius 
 will be the first to prescribe limits for its own exertions ; 
 to discover the sphere within which its powers must be 
 concentrated in order to work, beyond which their diffu- 
 sion can only uselessly dazzle. But this was a know- 
 ledge, and a self-command, that Frederick never attained. 
 Tliough the ignorance and weakness which he displayed, 
 in the excessive government of his kingdom, were 
 thrown into the shade by his military glory, or partially 
 covered by his cleverness and activity, they require only 
 to be viewed apart, in order to excite as much ridicule 
 as was ever bestowed on the Emperor Joseph, whose 
 system of administration indeed greatly resembled his 
 neighbour's, unless that he had more leisure to show 
 his good intentions by his blunders, and was guided 
 by better principles in the prosecution of his never- 
 ending schemes. Like him, the Prussian ruler con- 
 ceived that it was his duty to be eternally at 
 work ; to take every concern in his dominions upon 
 his own shoulders ; seldom to think mens' interest 
 safe when committed to themselves, much less to dele- 
 gate to his ministers any portion of the superintending 
 power, which nmst yet be every where present and 
 constantly on the watch. Both of those princes knew 
 enough of detail to give them a relish for affairs ; but
 
 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 365 
 
 they were always wasting their exemplary activity in 
 marring the concerns which belonged not to their de- 
 partment ; and extending their knovvledge of other 
 people's trades, instead of forming an acquaintance 
 with their own. While other monarchs were making 
 a business of pleasure, they made a pleasure of business ; 
 but, utterly ignorant how much of their professional 
 duties resolved into a wise choice of agents, with all 
 their industry and wit. they were only mismanaging a 
 part of the work, and leaving the rest undone ; so that 
 it may fairly be questioned whether their dominions 
 would not have gained by the exchange, had their lives 
 been squandered in the seraglio, and their affairs en- 
 trusted to cabinets of more quiet persons with more 
 ordinary understandings. 
 
 But although these two eminent men were equally 
 fond of planning and regulating, as they indulged their 
 propensity in different circumstances, so their schemes 
 were not pursued in the same manner, and have cer- 
 tainly been attended with different results. Joseph was 
 a legislator and a projector. From the restlessness of 
 his spirit, and the want of pressing affairs to employ his 
 portion of talent, his measures were often rather busy 
 and needless, than seriously hurtful ; and as the con- 
 ception of a plan resulted from his activity and idle- 
 ness, he was still vacant and restless after the steps had 
 been taken for its execution, and generally strangled it 
 by his impatience to witness the fruits of liis wisdom ; 
 like the child who plants a bean, and plucks it up when 
 it has scarcely sprouted, to see how it is growing. 
 Thus it happened, that many of his innovations were 
 done away by himself, while others had no tendency to
 
 366 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 operate any change. Those which were opposed, he only 
 pushed to a certain length, and then knew how to yield, 
 after mischief had been done by the struggle ; but few 
 of them survived his own day ; chiefly such as antici- 
 pated, by a slight advance, the natural course of events. 
 Frederic, on the other hand, was not placed in easy 
 circumstances ; he was active from necessity, as much 
 as from vanity ; he was an adventurer, whose projects 
 must be turned to some account ; not an idle amateur, 
 who can amuse liimself with forming anew scheme after 
 the others have failed. Although, then, like Joseph, he 
 could afford his designs little time to ripen, yet he con- 
 trived to force somethingout of them by new applications 
 of power; thus bringing to a premature conclusion opera- 
 tions in their own nature violent and untimely. Hence his 
 necessities, like his rival's idle impatience, allowed his 
 plans no chance of coming to perfection ; but while 
 Joseph destroyed the scheme of yesterday to make a new 
 one, Frederic carried it forcibly into an imperfect exe- 
 cution before it was well laid. Add to this, that the 
 power of the latter being more absolute, and of a descrip- 
 tion the best adapted for enforcing detailed commands, he 
 was better enabled to carry through his regulating and in- 
 terfering plans against whatever opposition they might 
 encounter, while his superior firmness of character, and 
 his freedom from the various checks which principle or 
 feeling imposed upon the Austrian monarch, precluded 
 all escape from the rigour of his administration by any 
 other than fraudulent means. Thus, the consequences 
 of his too much governing, of his miserable views in 
 finance, and of his constant errors in the principles of com- 
 mercial legislation, are to be traced at this day through
 
 THE EMPEUOR JOSEPH. 367 
 
 the various departments of the Prussian states. Nor can 
 it be asserted in the present instance, that the powers of 
 individual interest have sufficed to produce their natural 
 efifects upon human industry in spite of the shackles by 
 which it has been fettered and cramped. 
 
 The intercourse between these two sovereigns which 
 took place at Neiss, in 1769, was not their only meet- 
 ing ; they had another the year after at Neustadt ; and 
 here, if ever, the remark of Voltaire proved correct, 
 " that the meetings of Sovereigns are perilous to their 
 subjects ;" for here was arranged that execrable ci-ime 
 against the rights of men and of nations, which has 
 covered the memory of its perpetrators with incompa- 
 rably less infamy than they deserved, the Partition of 
 Poland. Although Joseph's mother was still alive and 
 suffered him to share none of her authority, yet this ne- 
 gociation, in which he undeniably was engaged, deprives 
 him of all pretext for withdrawing from his portion of 
 the disgrace which so justly covers the parties to that 
 foul transaction. 
 
 It is certain, however, and it is a melancholy truth, 
 that this abominable enterprise is the only one of 
 all the Emperor's undertakings that ever succeeded. 
 His less guilty attempt in Belgium, his harmless 
 changes in Austria, his projects of useful reform in 
 Italy, all failed and failed signally, for the most part 
 through the careless and unreflecting manner in which 
 he formed his plans, and his want of patience in allow- 
 ing time for their execution. His absurd fancy of 
 being crowned King of Hungary at Vienna, instead of 
 Presburg, and transporting the regalia out of the coun- 
 try, without the possibility of effecting any good pur-
 
 368 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 pose, offended the national pride of the Hungarians, 
 and roused their suspicions of further designs against 
 their rights to such a pitch, that for the rest of his reign 
 he had to encounter the opposition of those upon whose 
 protection his mother had thrown herself in her extre- 
 mity, and who had sworn "To die for their King Maria 
 Theresa." His Flemish reforms, and indeed his attempts 
 upon the liberties of the Flemings, ended in exciting an 
 open rebellion, which convulsed the Netherlands at tlie 
 time of his death. In a far nobler object his steadiness 
 failed as usual, and his ill-digested and rash innovations 
 rather confirmed than extirpated the evil he wished to 
 destroy. He designed to suppress the Monasteries, to 
 prevent Appeals to Rome, and to retain the power of 
 Ordination and Deprivation within the country. But he 
 proceeded in so inconsiderate a miinner as to raise uni- 
 versal alarm among all classes of the Clergy, and even to 
 make the Pope undertake a journey from Rome with 
 the view of turning him aside from his projects, by 
 showing their dangerous consequences. A courteous re- 
 ception was all the Sovereign Pontiff received; and after 
 his return to Italy, the Emperor raslily abolished the 
 Diocesan Seminaries, reserving only five or six for the 
 whole of his vast dominions ; new modelled the limits 
 of the dioceses, and altered the whole law of marriage, 
 granting^ for the first time in a Catholic country, the 
 liberty of divorce. He removed at the same time the 
 images from the churches, to show that he could, in 
 trifling as well as graver matters, pursue the course of 
 premature innovation, and that lie was ignorant of the 
 great rule of practical wisdom in government, which 
 forbids us to hurt strong and general feelings where no
 
 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 369 
 
 adequate purpose is to be served, how trifling or absurd 
 soever the subject matter may be to which those feelings 
 relate. The removal of images however was far from 
 the most trifling of the details into which he thrust his 
 improving hand. He wearied out the clergy as well as 
 their flocks with innumerable regulations touching fasts, 
 processions, ceremonies of the Church, every thing, as 
 has been well observed, with which the civil power has 
 the least right to meddle, and, it might be added, every 
 thing the most beneath a Sovereign's regard : so that 
 Frederic used not unhappily to speak of him as his 
 "brother the Sexton" {monfrere le Sacristain). Every 
 one knows how such freaks of power, the growth of a 
 little mind, torment and irritate their objects even more 
 than they lower the reputation and weaken the autho- 
 rity of their authors. 
 
 Having formerly, with a restlessness so foolish as in his 
 position almost to be criminal, chosen the moment of the 
 whole of his people being flung into consternation by his 
 measures, as the fittest opportunity for going abroad upon 
 a tour through France, where he passed some months in 
 envying all he saw, and being mortified by its supe- 
 riority to his own possessions, novelty being no cause of 
 this journey, for he had been all over that fine country 
 four years before — so now, after having refused the Pope's 
 request, and proceeded still more rapidly in his eccle- 
 siastical changes since the pontifical visit, he chose to 
 return it immediately after he had given this offence; 
 and he passed his time at Rome in vainly endeavouring 
 to obtain the co-operation of Spain with his project for 
 entirely throwing oif all allegiance to the Holy See. A 
 {ew years after, this wandering Emperor repaired to 
 
 VOL. I. 2 b
 
 370 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 Russia, and accompanied Catherine on her progress 
 through the southern parts of her empire. Here he 
 met with a sovereign who resembled him in one point 
 and no more ; she was devoured by the same restless 
 passion for celebrity, and in her domestic administra- 
 tion undertook everything to finish nothing, how effect- 
 ively soever she might accomplish the worser objects 
 of her criminal ambition abroad. A witty remark of his 
 connected with this weakness, is recorded, and proves 
 sufficiently that he could mark in another what he was 
 unable to correct in himself. She had laid the first 
 stone of a city, to be called by her name, and she re- 
 quested him to lay the second. " I have begun and 
 finished," said he, " a great work with the Empress. 
 She laid the first stone of a city and I laid the last, all 
 in one day." 
 
 His excessive admiration of Frederic, combined 
 with his thirst of military glory, in the war of the Ba- 
 varian succession 1778, had the effect of neutralising 
 each other. He preferred corresponding to fighting 
 with his adversary, who called it a campaign of the pen. 
 Under the mediation of France peace was speedily re- 
 stored, after an active and vigorous interchange of let- 
 ters for some months, and with no other result. But the 
 warAvith the Turks, into which Catherine inveigled him, 
 was of a very different character. With them no written 
 compositions could produce any effect ; and a series of 
 disasters ensued, which ended in the enemy menacing 
 Vienna itself, after overrunning all Lower Hungary. 
 It was in vain that he endeavoured to rally his defeated 
 troops, or win back victory to his standard by the most 
 indiscriminate severity ; cashiering officers by the pla-
 
 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 371 
 
 toon, and shooting men by the regiment, until at length 
 old Marshal Laudohn came forth from his retirement, 
 and the men, animated by the sight of their ancient 
 chief, repulsed the enemy, resumed the offensive, and 
 forced Belgrade to capitulate without a siege. At this 
 critical moment, and ere yet he could taste the pleasure, 
 to him so novel, of success, death closed his eyes upon 
 the ruin of his affairs in Belgium, their inextricable 
 embarrassment at home, the death of a sister-in-law 
 (first wife of Leopold) , to whom he was tenderly at- 
 tached, and the unwonted, perhaps unexpected, gleam of 
 prosperity in the Turkish campaign. He died in the 
 flower of his age, and almost at the summit of the con- 
 fusion created by his restless folly, a sad instance how 
 much mischief a prince may do to others, and how great 
 vexation inflict upon himself, by attempting in medio- 
 crity of resources things which only a great capacity 
 can hope to execute. 
 
 The volume which records the transactions of states- 
 men, often suggests the remark that the success of 
 mediocrity, both in public and in private life, affords 
 a valuable lesson to the world, a lesson the more exten- 
 sively useful^ because the example is calculated to operate 
 upon a far more enlarged scale than the feats of rare 
 endowments. In private individuals, moderate talents, 
 however misused by disproportioned ambition, can pro- 
 duce little harm, except in exposing the folly and pre- 
 sumption of their possessors. But in princes, moderate 
 talents, unaccompanied with discretion and modesty, are 
 calculated to spread the greatest misery over whole na- 
 tions. The pursuit of renown, when confined to malad- 
 ministration at home, is extremely mischievous ; leading 
 
 2b 2
 
 372 THE EMPEROR JOSEPH. 
 
 to restless love of change for change's sake, attempts to 
 acquire celebrity by undertakings which are above the 
 reach of him who makes them, and which involve the 
 community in the consequences of their failure. But 
 the fear always is, that this restless temper, unsustained 
 by adequate capacity, may lead to indulging in the Great 
 Sport of Kings, and that wars, even when successful 
 most hurtful to the state, will be fl'aged, without any fair 
 chance of avoiding discomfiture and disgrace. Hence 
 a greater curse can hardly light upon any people than 
 to be governed by a prince in whom disproportioned 
 ambition, or preposterous vanity, is only supported by 
 the moderate talents which, united to sound principles, 
 and under the control of a modest nature, might consti- 
 tute their safety and their happiness. For it is altoge- 
 ther undeniable that, considering the common failings of 
 princes, the necessary defects of their education, the in- 
 evitable tendency of their station to engender habits of 
 self-indulgence, and the proneness which they all feel, 
 when gifted with a superior capacity, to seek dominion 
 or fame by martial deeds, there is far more safety in 
 nations being ruled by sovereigns of humble talents, if 
 these are only accompanied with an ambition propor- 
 tionably moderate.
 
 
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 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 
 
 The two male conspirators against the liberties of man- 
 kind, the rights of nations, the peace of the world, have 
 now been painted, but in colours far more subdued than 
 the natural hues of their crime. It remains that the 
 most profligate of the three should be pourtrayed, and 
 she a woman ! — but a woman in whom the lust of power 
 united with the more vulgar profligacy of our kind, 
 had effaced all traces of the softer nature that marks 
 the sex, and left an image of commandmg talents and 
 prodigious firmness of soul, the capacities which con- 
 stitute a great character, blended with unrelenting 
 fierceness of disposition, unscrupulous proneness to fraud, 
 unrestrained indulgence of the passions, all the weak- 
 ness and all the wickedness which can debase the worst 
 of the human race. 
 
 The Princess Sophia of Anhalt Zerbst, one of the 
 smallest of the petty principalities in which Northern 
 Germany abounds, was married to Peter III., nephew 
 and heir-presumptive to the Russian crown, and she took 
 the name of Catherine, according to the custom of that 
 barbarous nation. The profligacy of Elizabeth, then on 
 the throne of the Czars, was little repugnant to the 
 crapulous life which her future successor led, or to his 
 consort following their joint example. The young 
 bride, accordingly, soon fell into the debauched habits of 
 the court, and she improved upon them ; for having more
 
 374 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 
 
 than once changed the accomplices of her adulterous 
 indulgences, almost as swiftly as Elizabeth did, she had 
 her husband nmrdered by her paramour, that is, the 
 person for the time holding the office of paramour ; 
 and having gained over the guards and the mob of 
 Petersburgh, she usurped the crown to which she could 
 pretend no earthly title. To refute the reports that 
 Avere current and to satisfy all inquiries as to the cause 
 of Peter's death, she ordered his body to be exposed to 
 public view, and stationed guards to prevent any one 
 from approacliing near enough to see the livid hue 
 which the process of strangling had spread over his 
 features. 
 
 The reign thus happily begun, was continued in the 
 constant practice of debauchery and the occasional com- 
 mission of convenient murder. Lover after lover was 
 admitted to the embraces of the JMessalina of the North, 
 until soldiers of the guards were employed in fatiguing 
 an appetite which could not be satiated. Sometimes 
 the favourite of the day would be raised to the con- 
 fidence and the influence of prime minister ; but after a 
 while he ceased to please as the paramour, though he 
 retained his ministerial functions. One of the princes 
 of the blood having been pitched on by a party to be 
 their leader, Avas thrown into prison ; and when the zeal 
 of that party put forward pretences to the throne on his 
 behalf, the imperial Jezebel had him murdered in his 
 dungeon as the shortest way of terminating all contro- 
 versy on his account, and all uneasiness. The medio- 
 crity of her son Paul's talents gave lier no umbrage, 
 especially joined to the eccentricity of his nature, and 
 his life was spared. Had he given his tigress mother
 
 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 375 
 
 a moment's alarm, he would speedily have folloAved his 
 unhappy father to the regions where profligacy and 
 parricide are unknown. 
 
 Although Catherine was thus abandoned in all her 
 indulgences and unscrupulous in chusing the means of 
 gratifying her ambition especially, yet did she not 
 give herself up to either the one kind of vice or the 
 other, either to cruelty or to lust, with the weakness 
 which in little minds lends those abominable propen- 
 sities an entire and undivided control. Her lovers 
 never were her rulers ; her licentiousness interfered 
 not with her public conduct : her cruelties were not 
 numerous and wanton ; not the result of caprice or the 
 occupation of a wicked and malignant nature, but the 
 expedients, the unjustifiable, the detestable expedients, 
 to which she had recourse when a great end was to be 
 attained. The historian who would fully record the 
 life of the Czarina, must deform his page with profli- 
 gacy and with crimes that resemble the disgusting 
 annals of the Ceesars ; hut the blot would be occasional 
 only and the darkness confined to a few pages, instead 
 of blackening the whole volume, as it does that of Taci- 
 tus or Suetonius ; for she had far too great a mind 
 to be enslaved by her passions or merely mischievous 
 in her feelings, although the gusts of the one carried 
 her away, and what of the other was amiable, had far 
 too little force to resist the thirst for dominion, which, 
 with the love of indulgence, formed the governing mo- 
 tive of her conduct. 
 
 Her capacity Avas of an exalted order. Her judg- 
 ment was clear and sure ; her apprehension extraor- 
 dinarily quick ; her sagacity penetrating ; her pro-
 
 376 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 
 
 vidence and circumspection comprehensive. To fear, 
 hesitation, vacillation, she was an utter stranger ; and 
 the adoption of a design was with her its instant execu- 
 tion. But her plans differed flndely from those of her 
 companion Joseph II., or even of her neighbour Gus- 
 tavus III. They resembled far more those of her long- 
 headed accomplice of Prussia. They were deeply laid 
 in general, and for the most part well digested ; foi-med 
 as to their object with no regard to principle, but only 
 to her aggrandisement and glory ; framed as to their 
 execution with no regard to the rights, or mercy for the 
 sufferings of her fellow-creatures. Over their execution 
 the same dauntless, reckless, heartless feelings presided ; 
 nor was she ever to be turned from her purpose by 
 difficulties and perils, or abated in her desire of success 
 by languor and delay, or quelled in her course by the 
 least remnant of the humane feelings that mark the 
 softer sex, extinct in her bold, masculine, and flinty 
 bosom. 
 
 In one material particular, and in only one, she 
 seemed to betray her original womanhood, and ceased to 
 pursue the substance after she had gone far enough to 
 gratify her vanity with the shadow of outward appearances 
 and to tickle her ears with popular applause. Her mili- 
 tary operations on the side of the East ; her attempts at 
 encroachment upon Turkey, whether by skilful negoti- 
 ations with the Greek chiefs, or warlike movements 
 almost decisively successful against Constantinople * ; 
 her measures in concert ^dth Denmark against Sweden, 
 
 * Had her adiuiials pushed their advantages at Tchesme, the 
 Porte was laid prostrate at her feet.
 
 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 377 
 
 and which only the interposition of England at Copen- 
 hagen, in 1788,* prevented from putting Finland in her 
 possession ; her share in the execrable Partition of 
 Poland from the beginning of that crime down to its 
 consummation in 1794 — all these schemes of her 
 vigorous and daring policy formed a strange con- 
 trast with those ebullitions of childish vanity, whicli 
 laid the foundation of cities in a desert, never to be 
 finished nor ever built above the corner-stone ; or as- 
 sembled upon her route through the wastes of her em- 
 pire thousands of half-naked savages and clothed them 
 with dresses to be transported in the night and serve the 
 next day's show, while she was making a progress through 
 her barren, unpeopled domains ; or made the shells of 
 houses be raised one week, along the road where she was 
 to pass, destined the week after to tumble in premature 
 but inevitable ruins ; or collected groups of peasants 
 where none could subsist, and had these same groups 
 carried on in the night to greet her next day with ano- 
 ther false semblance of an impossible population in 
 another waste. Nor was there much more reality in 
 her councils of lawgivers to prepare a Code for her vast 
 empire, and her Instructions, suj)posed to be written by 
 herself, for guiding their deliberations and assisting their 
 labours. But then she had resolved to be the Semiramis 
 of the North; she must both be the Conqueror of 
 Empires, the Founder of Cities, and the Giver of Laws. 
 But as it was incomparably more easy for an absolute 
 
 * Our ambassailor threatened to bombard Copenhagen witli an 
 English fleet, unless the Danes instantly raised the siege of Gotten- 
 burgh.
 
 378 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 
 
 sovereign at the head of forty millions of slave subjects, 
 with a vast, impregnable, almost unapproachable domi- 
 nion, if ruled by no principles to subdue other countries, 
 than to improve her own, and to extend the numbers of 
 her vassals, than to increase their happiness or their 
 civilization, she failed in all the more harmless, or bene- 
 ficent parts of her schemes, while she unhappily succeeded 
 in many of her warlike and unprincipled projects ; and she 
 easily rested satisfied with the name of civil wisdom, and 
 the mere outward semblance of plans for internal im- 
 provement, while she enjoyed the sad reality of territorial 
 aggrandisement through cruelty and violence. The court 
 she paid to men of letters obtained a prompt repayment in 
 flattery ; and they lavished upon her never-ending, never- 
 executed plans of administration the praises to which 
 a persevering and successful execution of them would 
 alone have given her a title. Pleased, satisfied with 
 these sounds, she thought no more of the matter, and 
 her name has come do«Ti to our times, though close 
 adjoining her own, stript of every title to respect for 
 excellence in any one department of civil wisdom, while 
 her unprincipled policy in foreign affairs has survived 
 her and stiU afflicts mankind. 
 
 A woman of her commanding talents, however, had 
 other holds over the favour of literary men than the 
 patronage which her station enabled her to dispense. 
 Beside maintaining a kind of literary envoy at Paris in 
 the person of Grimm, she invited Diderot to St. Peters- 
 burgh, and purchased D'Alembert's library ; patronised 
 tlie illustrious Euler, and gratified others of less fame by 
 admitting them to the familiar society of a great mo- 
 narch ; but she also had abilities and information enough
 
 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 379 
 
 to relish their conversation, and to bear her part in it 
 upon nearly equal terms. She had the manly sense, too, 
 so far superior to the demeanour of Frederic and the 
 other spoilt children of royal nurseries, that no breacli 
 of etiquette, no unbecoming familiarity of her lettered 
 guests ever offended her pride, or roused her official 
 dignity for an instant. Diderot used to go so far in the 
 heat of argument as to slap her on the shoulder or knee 
 with the " emportemeni" of a French " savant," and he 
 only excited a smile in the well-natured and truly supe- 
 rior person whose rank and even sex he had for the 
 moment forgotten. Her writings, too, are by no means 
 despicable ; but the difficulty of ascertaining that any 
 work published by an Empress-i-egnant proceeds from 
 her own pen deprives criticism of all interest as con- 
 nected with her literary reputation. The most im- 
 portant of her books, indeed, her Instructions to the 
 Commission for composing a Code of Laws, published 
 in 1770, makes little or no pretension to originality, as 
 Avhatever it has of value is closely copied from the work 
 of Beccaria. The great variety of her subjects is calcu- 
 lated to augment our suspicions that she made books as 
 she made war, by deputy — by orders from head-quar- 
 ters. Legislation, history, travels, criticism, dramatic 
 pieces of various kinds, political and moral romances — 
 all pass under her name as the occupation of her leisure 
 hours and the fruits of her prolific pen. 
 
 It would be unjust, however, to deny that science 
 owes her important obligations. Her patronage of the 
 Academy of Petersburgh was unremitting, and it was un- 
 accompanied by undue interference, the great draAvback 
 on all public patronage of letters or literary men, which 
 so often more than balnnces the l)enefits it is calculated
 
 380 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 
 
 to bestow. Flourishing under her auspices, it gave to 
 the world some of the most valuable of Euler's profound 
 and original researches. The journies of Pallas and 
 Gmelin were directed and supported by her, and they 
 explored the hitherto unknown regions of the Caucasus, 
 ascertained their resources, and described their produc- 
 tions. Dispatched by her orders, Billings explored the 
 Eastern, and Blumager the Northern Ocean. Nor 
 were some beginnings wanting under her reign to es- 
 tablish schools for teacliing the more elementary 
 branches of knowledge to her untutored people*. 
 
 Beside these worthy and useful works she made some 
 little improvements upon the judicial and financial ad- 
 ministration of her empire, and corrected a very few of 
 the more flagrant abuses, the produce of a darker age, 
 which even in Russia could hardly stand their ground 
 amidst the light of the eighteenth century. But the 
 fragments of her reforming or improving schemes which 
 alone have remained beliind her, bear the most incon- 
 siderable proportion to the bulk of the designs them- 
 selves ; and of all the towns she began to build, the 
 canals she planned, the colonies she planted, the manu- 
 factories she established, the legislation she chalked out, 
 the thousand-and-one institutions of charity, of learning, 
 of industry, she founded, the very names have perished, 
 and the situations been buried in oblinon, leaving only 
 the reputation to their author of realising Joseph's just 
 though severe picture, of a " Sovereign who began 
 everything and finished nothing." 
 
 * The attention paid to education at the present day in Russia is 
 truly praiseworthy ; and might make nations ashamed that pretend to 
 far greater civility and refinement.
 
 THE EMPRESS CATHERIN^E. 381 
 
 On the whole, the history of Princes affords few ex- 
 amples of such talents and such force of character on a 
 throne so diverted from all good purposes, and perverted 
 to the working of so much mischief. There have been 
 few abler monarchs in any part of the world. It may 
 well be doubted if there has been one as bad in all the 
 important particulars in which the worth or the wicked- 
 ness of rulers tells the most powerfully upon the hap- 
 piness of the world . 
 
 The accidental circumstance of sex has sometimes led 
 to instituting comparisons of Catherine with our Eliza- 
 beth ; but the points of resemblance were few. Both 
 possessed a very strong, masculine understanding ; both 
 joined to comprehensive views, the firm resolution 
 without which nothing great is ever achieved ; both 
 united a vehement love of power with a determination 
 never to brook their authority being questioned ; and 
 both were prepared, though in very diiferent degrees, to 
 sacrifice unscrupulously those whom they regarded as ob- 
 stacles in the way of its gratification. Whether Eliza- 
 beth in the place of Catherine might not have become 
 more daring, and throwing off all the restraints imposed 
 by the Ecclesiastical and Parliamentary Constitution 
 of her country, have attained by open force those ends 
 which she was obliged to compass by intrigue, is a mat- 
 ter of more doubtful consideration. Certainly her reign 
 is sullied by none of those atrocious crimes which cast 
 so dark a shade on the memory of Catherine ; nor can 
 any comparison be fairly made between the act which 
 approaches nearest the enormities of the Northern 
 Tyrant, and even the least of those mighty trangres- 
 sions. 
 
 The passions that most influence the sex, present
 
 382 THE EMPRESS CATHEKINE. 
 
 remarkable points both of contrast and of resemblance 
 in the kind of empire which they exercised over these 
 great sovereigns. The one was the victim of sensual 
 propensities, over which she exercised no kind of con- 
 trol : the other carefully avoided even every appearance 
 of such excesses. So differently were they constituted 
 morally as well as physically, that it is more than doubt- 
 ful if Catherine ever felt the passion of love, or Eliza- 
 beth that of sex, while the latter was in love with some 
 favourite or other all her life, and the existence of the 
 former was a succession of the grossest amours. But 
 in this both pursued the same course, that the favourite 
 of the woman in neither case ever obtained any sway 
 over the Queen ; and that the sensual appetites of the 
 one and the tender sentiments of the other, were alike 
 indulged, without for a moment breaking in upon the 
 scheme of their political lives. 
 
 Their accession to the thrones of their respective king- 
 doms was marked by very different circumstances ; the 
 one succeeding by inheritance without a possible objec- 
 tion to her right, the other usurping the crown without 
 the shadow of any title at all. Yet the sovereign whose 
 title was indisputable had far more perils and difficulties 
 to encounter in defending her possession, than she who 
 claimed by mere force in contempt of all right. The 
 I'eligious differences which marshalled the Enghsh 
 people in two bitterly hostile divisions, kept Elizabeth 
 in constant anxiety during her whole reign, lest the dis- 
 inclination of one class proving stronger against her 
 than the favour of the other in her behalf, attempts upon 
 her life or her authority might subvert a throne founded 
 upon every ground of law, and fortified by many years 
 of possession. Catherine had no sooner seized upon
 
 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 383 
 
 the crown of the Czars than all her difficulties va- 
 nished, and once only or twice, during her reign of 
 between thirty and forty years, was she ever molested 
 by any threats of a competition for her crown. It is 
 due to the Englishwoman, that her admirable firmness 
 and clemency combined should be recorded in these 
 untoward circumstances. No alarm for her oivn safety 
 urged her to adopt any cruel expedients, or to consult 
 her security by unlawful means ; nor did she ever but 
 once seek a justification of lawless conduct in the ex- 
 traordinary difficulties and even dangers of her position. 
 Catherine, who had walked to supreme power over her 
 husband's corpse, easily defended her sceptre by the 
 same instruments which had enabled her to grasp it. 
 The single instance in which Elizabeth shed a rival's 
 blood for her own safety, admitted of extenuation, if 
 it could not be justified, by the conspiracy detected 
 against her life; and the times she lived in, rendering 
 assassination perilous, instead of murdering her rival in 
 a dungeon, she at least brought her charges openly into 
 a court of inquiry, and had her tried, judged, executed, 
 under colour of law before the face of the world. 
 
 In one thing, and in one alone, the inferiority of the 
 Englishwoman to the German must be admitted ; and 
 this arose from the different circumstances of the two So- 
 vereigns, and the feebler authority mth which the former 
 was invested. Through her whole reign she was a dis- 
 sembler, a pretender, a hypocrite. Whether in steering 
 her crooked way between rival sects, or in accom- 
 modating herself to conflicting factions, or in pursuing 
 the course she had resolved to follow amidst the various 
 opinions of the people, she ever displayed a degree of 
 cunning and faithlessness which it is impossible to con-
 
 384 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 
 
 template ^¥ithout disgust. But if there be any one 
 passage of her life which calls forth this sentiment more 
 than another, it is her vile conduct respecting the execu- 
 tion of Maiy Stuart — her hateful duplicity, her execrable 
 treachery towards the instruments she used and sacri- 
 ficed, her cowardly skulking behind those instruments 
 to escape the censures of the world. This was the 
 crowning act of a whole life of despicable fraud and hy- 
 pocrisy ; and, from the necessity of resorting to this, 
 Catherine's more absolute power set her free : Not that 
 the Empress's history is unaccompanied with traits of a 
 like kind. When her troops had sacked the suburbs of 
 Warsaw, and consummated the partition of Poland by 
 the butchery of thousands of her victims, she had the 
 blasphemous effrontery to celebrate a Te Deum in the 
 metropolitan cathedral, and to promulgate an address to 
 the people, professing " to cherish for them the tender 
 feelings of a mother towards her offsprmg." It vexes 
 the faith of pious men to witness scenes like these, and 
 not see the fires of Heaven descend to smite the guilty 
 and impious actors. 
 
 In the whole conduct of their respective governments 
 it would be hard to find a greater contrast than is exhi- 
 bited by these two famous princesses. While Cathe- 
 rine sacrificed everything to outward show in her domes- 
 tic administration, Elizabeth looked ever and only to 
 the substance ; the former caring nothing how her 
 people fared or her realms were administered, so she 
 had the appearance of splendour and filled the world 
 with her name ; the latter, intent upon the greatest ser- 
 vice which a sovereign in her circumstances could per- 
 form, the allaying the religious dissensions that dis- 
 tracted all classes of her subjects, and maintaining her
 
 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 385 
 
 crown independent of all foreign dictation. Assuming 
 the sceptre over a barbarous people scattered through a 
 boundless desert, Catherine found the most formidable 
 obstacles opposed by nature to what was obviously pre- 
 scril)ed by the circumstances of her position as her first 
 duty, the diffusing among her rude subjects the blessings 
 of civilization ; but desirous only of the fame which 
 could be reaped from sudden operations, and impatient 
 of the slow progress by which natural improvement 
 must ever proceed, she overcame not those obstacles, 
 and left her country in the state in which it would have 
 been whoever had filled her place. Succeeding to the 
 throne of a nation torn by faction, and ruled by a priest- 
 hood at once tyrannical and intolerant, Elizabeth, l)y 
 wise forbearance, united to perfect steadiness of pur- 
 pose, by a judicious use of her influence wheresoever her 
 eye, incessantly watchful, perceived that her interposi- 
 tion could help the right cause, above all, by teaching 
 each sect that she would be the servant of none while 
 disposed to be the friend of all, and would lend her sup- 
 port to that faith which her conscience approved without 
 suffering its professors to oppress those of rival creeds, 
 left her country in a state of peace at home as remark- 
 able and as beneficial as the respect which her com- 
 manding talents and determined conduct imposed on 
 foreign nations. 
 
 The aggrandisement of the Russian empire during 
 Catherine's time, at once the monument of her worst 
 crimes and the source of the influence ever since ex- 
 erted by her successors over the affairs of Europe, has 
 been felt by all the other powers as the just punishment 
 of their folly in permitting Poland to be despoiled, and 
 
 VOL. I. 2 c
 
 386 THE EMPRESS CATHERINE. 
 
 by none more than those who were the accomplices in 
 that foul transaction. It is almost tlie only part of her 
 administration that remains to signalise her reign ; but 
 as long as mankind persist in preferring for the subject 
 of their eulogies mighty feats of power, to useful and 
 vu'tuous policy, the Empress Catherine's name will be 
 commemorated as synonymous with greatness. The ser- 
 vices of Elizabeth to her people are of a far higher order; 
 it is probable that they owe to her the maintenance of 
 their nationaal independence ; and it is a large increase of 
 the debt of gratitude thus incurred to this great princess, 
 that ruling for half a century of troublous times, she 
 ruled in almost uninteri'upted peace, while by the vigour 
 of her councils, and the firmness of her masculine 
 spirit, she caused the alliance of England to be courted, 
 and her name feared by all surrounding nations. 
 
 If, finally, we apply to these two Sovereigns the surest 
 test of genius and the best measm-e of success in their 
 exalted station — the comparative merits of the men by 
 whom they were served — the German sinks into insigni- 
 ficance, while the Englishwoman shines with surpassing 
 lustre. Among the ministers who served Catherine, 
 it would be difficult to name one of whom the lapse of 
 forty years has left any remembrance ; but as Elizabeth 
 never had a man of inferior, hardly one of middling ca- 
 pacity in her service, so to this day, at the distance of 
 between two and three centuries, when any one would 
 refer to the greatest statesmen in the history of England, 
 he turns instinctively to the Good Times of the Virgin 
 Queen.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 2c 2
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 I. 
 
 Several of the Sketches contained in this volume have already 
 appeared in print, but as parts scattered throughout other and 
 much larger works.* But great additions have been here made 
 to some of them : as George III. ; Lord Chatham ; Mr. Per- 
 ceval; Mr. Canning; Mr. Windham ; while the following are 
 entirely new : Lords North ; Mansfield ; Thurlow ; Lough- 
 borough ; Lord Chief Justice Gibbs ; Sir Wm. Grant ; 
 Franklin; Joseph IL; Catherine IL; Gustavus IIL; and the 
 Remarks on Party. 
 
 IL 
 
 The kindness of a most accomplished and venerable person, 
 the ornament of a former age, and fortunately still preserved 
 to enlighten the present, has permitted the insertion of the 
 following interesting note : — 
 
 " A circumstance attended Lord Chatham's eloquent invec- 
 tive against our employment of the Indians in the American 
 war, which we have not handed down to us along with it, but 
 which could hardly fail to be noticed at the time. The very 
 
 * Four only of the shorter Sketches are taken from the late work, 
 in four volumes, intituled " Lord Brougham's Speeches," which con- 
 tains a great many others.
 
 390 APPENDIX. 
 
 same thing had been done in the former war, carried on in 
 Canada by his authority and under his own immediate superin- 
 tendence ; the French had arrayed a tribe of these savage war- 
 riors against us, and we, without scruple, arrayed another 
 against them. This he thought fit to deny in the most positive 
 manner, aUhough the ministers offered to produce documents 
 written by himself that proved it, from among the papers at 
 the Secretary's office. A warm debate ensued, and at length 
 Lord Amherst, the General who had commanded our troops in 
 that Canadian war, was so loudly appealed to on all sides, that 
 it compelled him to rise, and, most unwillingly, (for he greatly 
 respected Lord Chatham,) falter out a few words ; enough how- 
 ever to acknowledge the fact — a fact admitted generally and 
 even assumed by the opposition lords who spoke afterwards. 
 They seemed to lay the question quietly by as far as it con- 
 cerned Lord Chatham's veracity, and only insisted upon the 
 difference between the two wars, the one foreign, the other civil; 
 arguing also, that we might have been under some necessity 
 of using retaliation, since the French certainly first began the 
 practice so justly abhorred. The Annual Register for 1777 
 states, that Mr. Burke took the same course in the House of 
 Commons. 
 
 " Upon hearing what had passed in the House of Lords, 
 Lord Bute exclaimed with astonishment — ' Did Pitt really 
 deny it ? — Why, I have letters of his still by me, singing lo 
 Peeans over the advantages we gained through our Indian 
 allies.' Could what he thus said have been untrue, when it was 
 almost a soliloquy spoken rather before than to his wife and 
 daughters, the only persons present ? The letters he mentioned 
 were probably neither official nor confidential, but such com- 
 mon notes as might pass between him and Lord Chatham 
 while still upon a footing of some intimacy. 
 
 " It must be observed, that in 1777 Lord Bute had long 
 withdrawn from all political connexions, lived in great retire- 
 ment, and had no intercourse whatever with the people then 
 in power."
 
 APPENDIX. 391 
 
 III. 
 
 The following very interesting letter is from the youngest and 
 only surviving daughter of Lord North. All comment upon 
 its merits or its value is superfluous : — 
 
 " My dear Lord Brougham, 
 
 " You mentioned to me the other night, your intention of 
 writing the character of my father, to be placed among some 
 other characters of the statesmen of the last century, that you 
 are preparing for the press, and at the same time stated the 
 difficulty of describing a man of whom you had had no per- 
 sonal knowledge. This conversation has induced me to cast 
 back my mind to the days of my childhood and early youth, 
 that I may give you such impressions of my father's private 
 life, as those recollections will afford. 
 
 " Lord North was born in April 1733; he was educated at 
 Eton school, and then at Trinity College, Oxford ; and he 
 completed his academical studies with the reputation of being 
 a very accomplished and elegant classical scholar. He then 
 passed three years upon the Continent, residing successively 
 in Germany, Italy and France, and acquiring the languages of 
 those countries, particularly of the last. He spoke French with 
 great fluency and correctness ; this acquirement, together with 
 the observations he had made upon the men and manners of 
 the countries he had visited, gave him what Madame de Stael 
 called V Esprit Eiiropeen, and enabled him to be as agree- 
 able a man in Paris, Naples and Vienna, as he was in London. 
 Among the lighter accomplishments he acquired upon the Con- 
 tinent, was that of dancing; I have been told that he danced 
 the most graceful minuet of any young man of his day ; 
 this I must own surprised me, who remember him only with 
 a corpulent heavy figure, the movements of which were ren- 
 dered more awkward and were impeded by his extreme near- 
 sightedness before he became totally blind. In his youth, 
 however, his figure was slight and slim ; his face was always
 
 392 APPENDIX. 
 
 plain, but agreeable, owing to its habitual expression of cheer- 
 fulness and good humour ; though it gave no indication of the 
 brightness of his understanding. 
 
 " Soon after his return to England, at the age of twenty- 
 three, he was married to Miss Speck, of Whitelackington 
 Park, Somersetshire, a girl of sixteen : she was plain in her 
 person, but had excellent good sense ; and was blessed with 
 singular mildness and placidity of temper. She was also 
 not deficient in humour, and her conversational powers 
 were by no means contemptible ; but she, like the rest of 
 the world, delighted in her husband's conversation, and be- 
 ing by nature shy and indolent, was contented to be a happy 
 listener during his life, and after his death her spirits were too 
 much broken down for her to care what she was. Whether 
 they had been in love with each other when they married I 
 don't know, but I am sure there never was a more happy union 
 than theirs during the thirty-six years that it lasted. I never 
 saw an unkind look, or heard an unkind word pass between 
 them ; his affectionate attachment to her was as unabated, as 
 her love and admiration of him. 
 
 " Lord North came into office first, as one of the Lords of 
 the Treasury, I believe, about the year 1763, and in 1765 he 
 was appointed as one of the Joint Pay-masters.* In 1769 
 lie became Chancellor of the Exchequer, and some years 
 after First Lord of the Treasury. He never would allow 
 us to call him Prime Minister, saying, there was no such 
 thing in the British Constitution. He continued in office thir- 
 teen years : during the three last he was most anxious to 
 
 * An anecdote is related of his Payraastership which will paint, 
 thoui;h in homely colours, his habitual good humour. He was some- 
 what disappointed at finding he had a colleague, who was to divide the 
 emoluments of the office, which was then chiefly prized for its large 
 perquisites. The day he took possession of the official house, a dog 
 had dirtied the hall, and Lord North, tinging foi' the servant, told him 
 to be sure, in clearing the nastiness away, that he took half of it to 
 his colleague, as it was a perquisite of the Joint office. — Editor.
 
 APPENDIX. 393 
 
 retire, but he suffered himself to be overcome by the earnest 
 entreaties of George the Third that he should remain. At 
 length, the declining majorities in the House of Commons 
 made it evident, that there must be a change of ministry, and 
 the King was obliged reluctantly to receive his resignation. 
 This was a great relief to his mind ; for, although I do not be- 
 lieve that my father ever entertained any doubt as to the justice 
 of the American war, yet I am sure that he wished to have 
 made peace three years before its termination. I perfectly 
 recollect the satisfaction expressed by my mother and my elder 
 sisters upon this occasion, and my own astonishment at it ; 
 being at that time a girl of eleven years old, and hearing in 
 the nursery the lamentations of the women about ' My Lord's 
 going out of power' (viz., the power of making their husbands 
 tide-waiters), I thought going out of power must be a sad 
 thing, and that all the family were crazy to rejoice at it ! 
 
 " It is hardly necessary to say, that Lord North was per- 
 fectly clean handed and pure in money matters, and that he 
 left office a poorer man than when he came into it. His 
 father being still living at that time, his income would have 
 scantily provided for the education and maintenance of his 
 six children, and for the support of his habitual, though 
 unostentatious hospitality, but the office of Lord Warden 
 of the Cinque Ports becoming vacant, the King conferred 
 it upon him. His circumstances, by this means, became 
 adequate to his wishes, as he had no expensive tastes, or love 
 of splendor, but he was thoroughly liberal, and had great 
 enjoyment in social intercourse, which even in those days was 
 not to be had without expense. Lord North did not long con- 
 tinue out of office, the much criticised Coalition taking place 
 the year following, 1783. The proverb says, ' Necessity 
 acqiiaints us with strange bedfellows :' it is no less true, that 
 dislike of a third party reconciles adversaries. My eldest 
 brother was a Whig by nature, and an enthusiastic admirer of 
 Mr. Fox ; he, together with Mr. Adam, and Mr. Eden, (after- 
 wards Lord Auckland) were, I believe, the chief promoters of
 
 394 APPENDIX. 
 
 the Coalition. My mother, I remember, was averse to it, not 
 that she troubled her head with being a Tory or a Whig, but she 
 feared it would compromise her husband's political consistency. 
 I do not pretend to give any opinion upon this subject, having 
 been too young at the time to form any, and since I grew up I 
 have always been too decided a Whig myself to be a fair judge. 
 This ministry, in which Mr. Fox was at the head of the Foreign, 
 Lord North of tlie Home Office, and the Duke of Portland of 
 the Treasury, lasted but a few months : in 1 784 Mr. Pitt began 
 his long administration. My father, after he was out of office, 
 attended parliament, and sometimes spoke and voted, inde- 
 pendent of the opinions of his new allies ; but this made no 
 difference in the cordiality of their friendship, which remained 
 unimpaired to the end of his life. 
 
 " I will now attempt to give you my impressions of my fa- 
 ther's style of conversation and character in private life. His wit 
 was of the most genuine and playful kind ; he related {narroii) 
 remarkably well, and Uked conversing upon literary subjects; 
 yet so completely were all these ingredients mixed and amalga- 
 mated by good taste, that you would never have described him 
 as a sayer of bon mots, or a teller of good stories, or as a man of 
 literature, but as a most agreeable member of society and truly 
 delightful companion. His manners were those of a high-bred 
 gentleman, particularly easy and natural ; indeed, good breed- 
 ing was so marked a part of his character, that it would have 
 been affectation in him to have been otherwise than well bred. 
 With such good taste and good breeding, his raillery could not 
 fail to be of the best sort — always amusing and never wound- 
 ing. He was the least fastidious of men, possessing the happy 
 art of extracting any good that there was to be extracted out of 
 anybody. He never would let his children call people bores ; 
 cind I remember the triumphant joy of the family, when, after 
 a tedious visit from a very prosy and empty man, he exclaimed, 
 ' Well, that man is an insufferable bore !' He used frequently 
 to have large parties of foreigners and distinguished persons to 
 dine with him at Bushy Park. He was himself the life and
 
 APPENDIX. 395 
 
 soul of those parties. To have seen him then, you would 
 have said that he was there in his true element. Yet I think 
 that he had really more enjoyment when he went into the 
 country on a Saturday and Sunday, with only his own family, 
 or one or two intimate friends : he then entered into all the jokes 
 and fun of his children, was the companion and intimate friend 
 of his elder sons and daughters, and the merry, entertaining 
 playfellow of his little girl, who was five years younger than 
 any of the others. To his servants he was a most kind and 
 indulgent master : if provoked by stupidity or impertinence, a 
 few hasty, impatient words might escape him ; but I never saw 
 him really out of humour. He had a drunken, stupid groom, 
 who used to provoke him ; and who, from this uncommon cir- 
 cumstance, was called by the children ' the man that puts 
 papa in a passion ;' and 1 think he continued all his life put- 
 ting papa in a passion, and being forgiven, for I believe he 
 died in his service. 
 
 " In the year 1787 Lord North's sight began rapidly to 
 fail him, and in the course of a few months he became 
 totally blind, in consequence of a palsy on the optic nerve. 
 His nerves had always been very excitable, and it is pro- 
 bable that the anxiety of mind which he suffered during the 
 unsuccessful contest with America, still more than his neces- 
 sary application to writing, brought on this calamity, which he 
 bore with the most admirable patience and resignation; nor 
 did it affect his general cheerfulness in society. But the pri- 
 vation of all power of dissipating his mind by outward objects, 
 or of solitary occupation, could not fail to produce at times 
 extreme depression of spirits, especially as the malady pro- 
 ceeded from the disordered state of his nerves. These fits 
 of depression seldom occurred, except during sleepless nights, 
 when my mother used to read to him, until he was amused 
 out of them, or put to sleep. 
 
 " In the evenings, in Grosvenor-square, our house was the 
 resort of the best company that London afforded at that time. 
 Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, Mr. Sheridan, occasionally ; and Lord
 
 396 APPENDIX. 
 
 Stormont, Lord John Townshend, Mr. Windham, Sir James 
 Erskine, afterwards Lord Rossi yn, his uncle, then Lord Lough- 
 borough, habitually frequented our drawing-room : these, with 
 various young men and women, his children's friends, and whist- 
 playing ladies for my mother, completed the society. My 
 father always liked the company of young people, especially of 
 young women who were sensible and lively ; and we used to 
 accuse him of often rejoicing when his old political friends left 
 his side and were succeeded by some lively young female. 
 Lord North, when he was out of office, had no private secre- 
 tary ; even after he became blind, his daughters, particularly 
 the two elder, read to him by turns, wrote his letters, led him 
 in his walks, and were his constant companions. 
 
 " In 1792 his health began to decline: he lost his sleep and 
 his appetite; his legs swelled, and symptoms of dropsy were ap- 
 parent. At last, after a peculiarly uneasy night, he questioned his 
 friend and physician, Dr. Warren, begging him not to conceal 
 the truth : the result was, that Dr. Warren owned that water 
 had formed upon the chest, that he could not live many days, 
 and that a few hours might put a period to his existence. He 
 received this news not only with firmness and pious resignation, 
 but it in no way altered the serenity and cheerfulness of his 
 manners ; and from that hour, during the remaining ten days 
 of his life, he had no return of depression of spirits. The first 
 step he took, when aware of his immediate danger, was to de- 
 sire that Mr. John Robinson (commonly known by the name 
 of the Rat-catcher) and Lord Auckland might be sent for ; 
 they being the only two of his political friends whose desertion 
 had hurt and offended him, he wished before his death to 
 shake hands cordially and to forgive them. They attended the 
 summons of course, and the reconciliation was effected. My 
 father had always delighted in hearing his eldest daughter. 
 Lady Glenbervie, read Shakspeare, which she did with much 
 understanding and effect. He was desirous of still enjoying 
 this amusement. In the existing circumstances, this task 
 was a hard one; but strong affection, the best source of wo-
 
 APPENDIX. 397 
 
 man's strength, enabled her to go through it. She read to him 
 great part of every day with her usual spirit, though her heart 
 was dying within her. No doubt she was supported by the 
 Almighty in the pious work of solacing the last hours of her 
 almost idolised parent. He also desired to have the French news- 
 papers read to him. At that time they were filled with alarm- 
 ing symptoms of the horrors that shortly after ensued. Upon 
 hearing them, he said, ' I am going, and thankful I am that I 
 shall not witness the anarchy and bloodshed which will soon 
 overwhelm that unhappy country.' He expired on the 5th of 
 August, 1792. 
 
 " Lord North was a truly pious Christian ; and (although 
 from his political view of the subject) I believe that one of 
 the last speeches he made in parliament was against the 
 repeal of the Test Act, yet his religion was quite free from 
 bigotry or intolerance, and consisted more in the beautiful 
 spirit of Christian benevolence than in outward and formal 
 observances. His character in private life was, I believe, as 
 faultless as that of any human being can be ; and those actions 
 of his public life which appear to have been the most question- 
 able, proceeded, I am entirely convinced, from what one must 
 own was a weakness, though not an unamiable one, and which 
 followed him through his life, the want of power to resist the 
 influence of those he loved. 
 
 " I remain, 
 
 " My dear Lord, 
 
 " Gratefully and sincerely yours, 
 
 " Charlotte Lindsay." 
 " Green-street, 
 " February the l»th, 1839."
 
 398 APPENDIX. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Elizabeth's conduct to Mary, Queen of Scots." 
 
 The whole subject of Mary's conduct has been involved in 
 controversy, chiefly by the partisans" of the House of Stuart 
 after the Revolution, and somewhat also by the circumstance 
 of the Catholic party in both England and Scotland taking her 
 part as an enemy of the Reformed religion. Elizabeth's con- 
 duct towards her has also in a considerable degree been made 
 the subject of political disputation. But it may safely be 
 affirmed that there are certain facts, which cannot be doubted, 
 which indeed even the most violent partisans of both those 
 Princesses have all along admitted, and which tend to throw a 
 great, though certainlj' a very imequal degree of blame upon 
 both. — Let us first of all state those unquestioned facts. 
 
 1. It is certain that Darnley, Mary's second husband, was 
 foully murdered, and equally certain that Mary was gene- 
 rally suspected, and was openly charged, as an accomplice in 
 the murder, if not the contriver of the crime. 
 
 2. Yet it is equally certain that instead of taking those 
 active steps to bring the perpetrators to punishment, required 
 both by conjugal duty and by a just desire to wipe off the 
 stain affixed to her character, she allowed a mere mock trial 
 to take place which outraged every principle of justice, while 
 she refused Lennox the father's oflFers of evidence to convict 
 the murderers. 
 
 3. Bothwell had only of late been admitted to her intimate 
 society ; he was a man of coarse manners and profligate cha- 
 racter, universally accused and now known as having been the 
 principal in the murder. No one pretended at the time seri- 
 ously to doubt his guilt; yet immediately after the event she 
 
 * This Appendix has been added in deference to the suggestion of a 
 friend, whose sound judgment and correct taste are entitled to command 
 all respect, and who considered that an unjust view would be given of 
 Elizabeth's conduct if no addition were made to the sketch in the text.
 
 APPENDIX. 399 
 
 married him, and married him with a mixture of fraud, a pre- 
 tence of being forced to it, so coarse that it could deceive 
 nobody, and so gross as only to be exceeded by the still grosser 
 passion which actuated her whole conduct. 
 
 4. That he was married when their intimacy began, is not 
 denied. Nor is it doubted that she consented to marry him 
 before his former marriage had been dissolved. 
 
 5. The divorce which dissolved it was hurried through the 
 Courts in four days, by the grossest fraud and collusion be- 
 tween the parties. Hence Mary was as much guilty of bigamy 
 in marrying him as was the Duchess of Kingston two centu- 
 ries later ; for the Duchess produced also a sentence of sepa- 
 ration a mensd et thoro in her defence, obtained with incom- 
 parably greater formality — but obtained through collusion, 
 and therefore considered as a nullity — and she was accord- 
 ingly convicted of the felony. 
 
 6. These acts of Mary's were of so abominable a nature that 
 all rational men were turned away from supporting her, and 
 her deposition was almost a matter of course in any Christian 
 or indeed any civilised country. 
 
 But as regards Elizabeth : 
 
 1. When Mary took refuge in England, all her previous 
 misconduct gave Elizabeth no kind of title to detain her as a 
 prisoner, nor any right even to deliver her up as a prisoner at 
 the request of the Scots, had they demanded her. 
 
 2. In keeping her a prisoner for twenty years under various 
 pretexts, Elizabeth gave her ample licence and complete justifi- 
 cation for whatever designs she might form to regain her 
 liberty. 
 
 3. The conspiracy of Norfolk looked only to the maintain- 
 ing of her strict rights, the restoration of her personal liberty, 
 and her marriage with that ill-fated nobleman, which she 
 was willing to solemnise as soon as she could be divorced from 
 Bothwell, who having lived for some years as a pirate, after- 
 wards died mad in a Danish prison. 
 
 4. Babington's conspiracy included rebellion and also the
 
 400 APPENDIX. 
 
 assassination of Elizabeth ; and great and certainly very fruit- 
 less pains are taken by Mary's partisans to rebut the proofs of 
 her having joined in it. She, indeed, never pretended to resist 
 the proof that she was a party to the conspiracy in general ; 
 she only denied her knowledge of the projected assassination. 
 But supposing her to have been also cognisant of that, it seems 
 not too relaxed a view of duty to hold that one sovereign 
 princess detained unjustifiably in captivity by another for 
 twenty years, has a right to use even extreme measures of 
 revenge. In self-defence all means are justifiable, and Mary 
 had no other means than war to the knife against her op- 
 pressor. 
 
 5. For this accession to Babington's conspiracy, chiefly, she 
 was brought to trial by that oppressor who had violated every 
 principle of justice and every form of law, in holding her a pri- 
 soner for twenty years. 
 
 6. Being convicted on this trial, the sentence was executed 
 by Elizabeth's express authority ; although, with a complica- 
 tion of falsehood utterly disgusting, and which holds her 
 character up to the scorn of mankind in all ages, she pretended 
 that it had been done without her leave and against her will, 
 and basely ruined the unfortunate man, who, yielding to her 
 commands, had conveyed to be executed the orders she had 
 signed with her own hand. 
 
 The pretence upon which the proceeding of the trial may the 
 most plausibly be defended, is, that a Foreign Prince while in 
 this country, like all foreigners within its bounds, is subject 
 to the municipal law, and may be punished for its violation. 
 This, however, is a groundless position in law, even if the 
 Foreign Prince were voluntarily here resident ; for not even his 
 representative, his ambassador, is subject to our laws, either 
 civil or criminal, as a statute declaratory of the former law 
 has distinctly laid down,* although at an earlier period Crom- 
 well hanged one for murder. But if it be said that this part 
 
 * The StKt. 7 Anne, c. 1 2.
 
 APPENDIX. 401 
 
 of international law had not been well settled in the sixteenth 
 century, at all events it was well known then that no power can 
 have a right to seize on the pei-son of a Foreign Prince and de- 
 tain him prisoner ; and that, consequently, if so detained, tliat 
 Foreign Prince owes no allegiance to the laws of the realm. 
 
 But although Elizabeth's conduct towards Mary Stuart is 
 wholly unjustifiable, and fixes a deep stain upon her memory 
 (blackened still more by the gross falsehood and hypocrisy 
 with which it was thickly covered over), it may nevertheless 
 be said that she merits the commendation of having acted 
 against her kinswoman with open hostility, and sacrificed her 
 by the forms at least of a trial, instead of procuring her life to 
 be privately taken away. A little reflection will remove any such 
 argument used in mitigation of her crime. That she preferred 
 murder by due course of law to murder by poison, was the 
 merit of the age rather than of the person. Two centuries, 
 perhaps one, earlier, she would have used the secret services of 
 the gaoler in preference to the public prostitution of the judge. 
 But she knew that Mary's death, if it happened in prison, even 
 in the course of nature, would always be charged upon her as 
 its author; and slie was unwilling to load her name with the 
 shame, even if she cared not how her conscience might be bur- 
 dened with the guilt. She was well aware, too, of the for- 
 midable party which Mary had in the country, and dreaded 
 not only to exasperate the Catholic body, but to furnish them 
 with the weapons against herself which so great an outrage on 
 the feelings of mankind would have placed in their hands. 
 Besides, she well knew that the trial was a matter of easy 
 execution and of certain result. She was delivered over, not to 
 a judge and jury acting under the authority of the law in its 
 ordinary course of administration, but to forty peers and privy 
 councillors, selected by Elizabeth herself, whose very numbers, 
 by dividing the responsibility, made their submission to the 
 power that appointed them a matter of perfect ease, and the 
 conviction of Mary an absolute certainty. In every view, then, 
 which can be taken of the case, little credit can accrue to Eli- 
 
 VOL. I. '2 D
 
 402 APPENDIX. 
 
 zabeth for preferring a mode of destroj'ing her rival quite as 
 easy, quite as sure, and far more safe, than anj^ other : Not to 
 mention that it must be a strange kind of lionour which can 
 stoop to seek the wretched credit of having declined to commit 
 a midnight murder, rather than destroy the victim by an open 
 trial. 
 
 If, then, it be asked upon what grounds Elizabeth's memory 
 has escaped the execration so justly due to it, the answer is 
 found not merely in the splendour of her other actions, and the 
 great success of her long reign under circumstances of extra- 
 ordinary difficulty, but rather in the previous bad conduct of 
 Mary — the utter scorn in which all mankind held her except 
 those whom personal attachment or religious frenzj' blinded 
 — the certain effect of time in opening the eyes of even those 
 zealots, when her truly despicable conduct came to be consi- 
 dered — and chiefly in the belief that she, who was supposed to 
 have joined in the assassination of her own husband, and was 
 admitted to have married his brutal murderer while his hands 
 were still reeking with blood, had also been a party to a plot 
 for assassinating the English queen. These considerations 
 have not unnaturally operated on men's minds against the vic- 
 tim of Elizabeth's crooked and cruel policy ; and it is an un- 
 avoidable consequence of sympathy for the oppressed being 
 weakened, that the hatred of the oppressor is diminished in 
 proportion. 
 
 The foregoing statements have proceeded upon the plan of 
 assuming no facts as true respecting the conduct either of Mary 
 or Elizabeth, excepting those which are on all hands admitted, 
 and which have indeed never been denied, either at the time or 
 in the heats engendered by subsequent controversy. The re- 
 sult is against both those famous Queens ; loading the memory 
 of the one with a degree of infamy which no woman of ordi- 
 nary feeling could endure, subjecting the other to the gravest 
 charges of perfidy and injustice. But it would be giving a 
 very imperfect view of Mary's conduct were we to stop at these 
 admitted facts.
 
 APPENDIX. 403 
 
 The proofs against her in respect of Darnley's murder, al- 
 though not sufficient to convict her in a court of justice, are 
 quite decisive of her guilt, when the question is propounded as 
 one of historical evidence. Indeed it may be safely affirmed- 
 that no disputed point of historical fact rests upon stronger 
 evidence. The arguments to prove the letters genuine are 
 not easily resisted. Mr. Hume's admirable summary of those 
 arguments is nearly conclusive. The other concurring circum, 
 stances, as the statements of Bothwell's servants at their execu- 
 tion, are also very strong. But above everything, her own con- 
 duct both in obstructinor all search after the murderers, and in 
 immediately marrying their ringleader, seems to place her guilt 
 beyond a doubt. Even this, however, is not all. She submitted 
 the case to a solemn investigation, when she found that the 
 effects of her infamy were fatal to her party, clouding over all 
 her prospects of success, or even of deliverance ; and as soon as 
 the worst part of the charges against her were brought for- 
 ward, and the most decisive evidences of her guilt adduced, the 
 letters under her own hand, she did not meet the charge or 
 even attempt to prove the writings forgeries, but sought shelter 
 behind general protestations, and endeavoured to change the 
 inquiry into a negociation, although distinctly warned that 
 such a conduct of her case was flying from the trial to which 
 she had submitted, and must prove quite demonstrative of her 
 guilt. 
 
 On the whole, it is not going too far to close these remarks 
 with Mr. Hume's observation, that there are three descriptions 
 of men who must be considered beyond the reach of argu- 
 ment, and must be left to their prejudices — an English Whig, 
 who asserts the reality of the Popish plot; an Irish Catholic, 
 who denies the massacre in 1641 ; and a Scotch Jacobite, who 
 maintains the innocence of Queen Mary. 
 
 It is, however, fit that a remark be added touching the error 
 into which this justly celebrated historian has fallen, and which 
 shows that he knew very little of what legal evidence is, how 
 expertly soever he might deal with historical evidence. After 
 
 2 D 2
 
 404 APPENDIX. 
 
 •enumerating the proofs adduced at the trial of Mary's acces- 
 sion to the assassination part of Babington's plot, namely, 
 copies taken in Walsingham's office of correspondence with 
 Babington ; the confessions of her two secretaries, without tor- 
 ture, but in her absence, and without confronting or cross-exa- 
 mination; Babington's confession, and the confession of Ballard 
 and Savage, that Babington had shown them Mary's letters in 
 cipher, — the historian adds, that, •' in the case of an ordinary 
 criminal, tliis proof would be esteemed legal and even satisfac- 
 tory, if not opposed by some other circumstances which shake 
 the credit of the witnesses." Nothing can betray greater igno- 
 rance of the very first principles of the law of evidence. The 
 witnesses he speaks of do not even exist ; there is nothing like 
 a witness mentioned in his enumeration of proofs; and how 
 any man of Mr. Hume's acuteness could fancy that what one 
 person confesses behind a prisoner's back that he heard a third 
 person say to that prisoner, or rather that this third person 
 showed him ciphered letters not produced of that prisoner, 
 could be anything like evidence to affect him, is truly astonish- 
 ing, and shows how dangerous a thing it is for the artist most 
 expert in his own line to pronounce an opinion on matters 
 beyond it. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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 BY J. R. M'CULLOCH, Esq. 
 
 ASSISTED BY NUMEROUS CONTRIBUTORS. 
 
 '■ The new edition of Mr. M'Culloch's Statistics of the 
 British Empire, corrected and enlarged, of which we 
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 us, is one of thos-' works in which we see the great 
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 * * * • • The account of British manu- 
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 Julj/n,\S3S.
 
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 and throwin"light upon the habits and customs of the 
 Jews, it is the most comprehensive of any one work of 
 the kind in existence, being compiled from all the 
 
 authorities extant, and including the researches of the 
 numerous recent travellers, as well as those of Calmet. 
 The absence of all cuotruversial discussion on doctrinal 
 points renders it of universal acceptation ; tlie notes 
 beiug strictly esjilaoaiory. Of the many hundred 
 wood-cuts that adorn its pages, tlioseof mere embel- 
 lishment, as the copies of Insiorical painting-;, are the 
 least valuable, though undoubtedly serviceable by 
 exciting interest: the views of places mentioned in the 
 text, the still more graphic illustrations taken from 
 Kgyptiau paintings, antique sculiitures.and the actual 
 \veapons, utensils, and costumes in use, togeiher with 
 the representations of animals and plants peculiar to 
 the East — elucidate, in a way that no descriptions 
 without delineations can do, those points which most 
 
 stand in need of explanation to European readers " 
 
 Spectator. July 28. 1833. 
 
 "The unparalleled success of the ' Bilder Bibel,' or 
 Picture Bible, in Germany, has encouraged the spirited 
 publisher (C. Knight, of Ludgate hill) to undertake 
 the arduous enterprise of printing, in consecuiive 
 numbers, our authorized version of the Holy bible
 
 illustrated by original jilatt^s tiiken from tlie pictures of 
 the liist ami most celebrated m-islers. Tlie immeuse 
 tre;isures of art which the great painters have be- 
 queathed to us ou sucred subjects, art- tlius reudeifd 
 accessible to the fjeueral public, andmiide o contribute 
 towards tlie explanation and better uu'ieislandiii^' of 
 those interesting lecurds which the changes of haliils. 
 mauuiTs, and ciistcras, or the differences of climate, 
 veijetable produclious, or animal life, may have ren- 
 dered obscure to European readers. We have thus, in 
 the part before us, the master-pieces uf Rubeus, 
 Poussiii, Alexander, Veronese, Guido Ueui, Le Sueur, 
 Salvator Rosa, De La Hire, &c, yieldiuii commentary 
 on the Sacred Text, and accurate views uf the pic- 
 turesque scenery of the East, together with correct 
 delineations of almost every animal or |dant (at least 
 of all such as are peculiar) of the regions described by 
 the sacred historian, augmenlingouracquaintance with 
 the domestic t-usloms, employments, and sustenance of 
 the primeval inliabitants and peoplers of the world. 
 Nor is this all— botli the text and its pictorial illustra- 
 
 tions are further facilitated to our study by copious and 
 original no'es; some theological, but chiefly (asin'^eed 
 most consonant to the peculiar uses of such an edition 
 as the present) exp'auatoiy of the engravings, and of 
 such passages connected with the history, geography, 
 natural history, and antiquities of the Sacred Scriptures 
 as require observation. 
 
 " Thi-> work, when complete, will form a most sump- 
 tuous and useful addition to the theological library. 
 The text is distinct and large — the engravings executed 
 in the best style of wood engraving — the illustrations 
 freqiu-nt and judiciously distributed, and the paper 
 substantial and excellent. 
 
 *■ VVhen we add that the test is that of the standard 
 edition, and the marginal references the same as those 
 given iu the edition of D'Oyly and Maut, we need say 
 no more to commend this interesting publication to 
 every reader of discernment and taste. We really feel 
 interested in the piosperity of an adventure so well 
 directed, and, so far ai it has gone, so admirably exe- 
 cuted." — Dublin Evening Mail. 
 
 THE PICTORIAL 
 
 HISTORY OF PALESTINE 
 
 EDITOR OF THE '•PICTORIAL BIBLE." 
 
 The main object of the present Work is to relate every event of interest or im- 
 portance in the political, social, military, and religious history of the country 
 called Palestine, from the most remote ages to the times in which we live. It 
 will thus be, in the largest sense, 
 
 A HISTOB.Y OF PALESTINE, 
 
 and not merely of the Hebrew nation : but seeing that it is only its connexion, 
 and the consequences of its connexion, with the history of the Hebrew people, 
 which has rendered this small country of historical importance, it is also intended 
 that the present volume should be complete as 
 
 A HISTORY OF THE JEVfS; 
 
 not leaving them, as most histories do, when they were utterly cast forth from 
 their old possessions ; but while, on the one hand, the history of the country is 
 still continued, on the other, pursuing the people into all the places of their 
 dispersion. 
 
 It will thus be seen that the character of completeness is that which the 
 Author and the Publishers are the most anxious that the present Work should 
 bear; and, for the attainment of this object, it has also appeared desirable that 
 what may be called 
 
 THE PHYSICAL HISTORY OF PALESTINE 
 
 should form a part of the undertaking. By this is to be understood an account 
 of the physical geography of the country, and its various products and charac- 
 teristics. 
 
 THE WOOD-ENGRAVINGS, 
 
 which will be very numerous, will be executed in the first style of the art ; the 
 subjects being representations of actual scenery, costume, manners, monuments, 
 and objects of natural history, in some instances combined into a picture or 
 group, but never exhibiting anything merely fanciful. 
 
 The Pictorial History of Palestine is published Monthly, and will be com- 
 pleted in about Sixteen Parts, price 2s. Qd. each, forming two handsome 
 volumes, super-royal 8vo.
 
 Ill Monthly Parts, price 2« , to be comjileted iu four super-royal 8vo. Volumes, similar to tlmse 
 of the Pictorial Bible. The two first volumes are completed. Price 24s. each, haiiil- 
 somely bound iu cloth, 
 
 THE PICTORIAL 
 HISTORY OF ENGLAND: 
 
 BEING A HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE AS WELL AS A HISTORY OF THE 
 
 KINGDOM. 
 
 lUuittrated with Many Hundred JVood-Cuts of Monumental Records ; Coins ; Civil and Military 
 Costume ; Domestic Buildings, Furniture, anil Ornaments : Cathedrals, and other Works of 
 Architecture; Sports, and other Illustrations of Manners ; Mechanical Inventions; Portraits 
 of Eminent Persons ; and Remarkable Historical Scenes. 
 
 BoswELL has recori^ed a conversation between Dr. Johnson and Dr. Robertson, which may, iu 
 some respects, he taken as a key to the plan upon which 'The Pictorial Historic ov 
 England ' will be written ; — 
 
 Johnson. — " I have heard Henry's ' History of Britain' well spoken of: I am told it is 
 carried on in separ.ile divisions, as the civil, the military, the religious history. I wish much 
 to have one branch well done, and that is the history of manners, — of common life." 
 
 Robertson. — '* Henry should have applied his attention to that alone, which is enouj^h for 
 any man : and he might have found a great deal scattered in various books, had he read solely 
 with that view." 
 
 The branch of history which Johnson desired to see well done, — the History of Common 
 Life. — will constitute the peculiar feature of the new History of England which is now in- 
 troduced to the public notice. Without applying our " attention to /^o/ alone," — which would 
 be to destroy much of the value of that branch in connexion with other branches which are 
 usually held to constitute the whole of History, — it is our design to pniduce a History of 
 THE Peoplk, as well as a Histoky of the Kingdom. We propose to pursue the iuvestigatiou 
 of the past condition and progress of the country and its inhabitants in various interesting 
 directions, to which the authors of the most piipular of our existing English histories have 
 only slightly and incidentally turned their regards. The narrative of political movements and 
 changes, — of foreign and domestic wars, — of contests for power in which the people have only 
 had to obey and suffer, — will be given with the fuluess which the importance of these subjects 
 demands. It will be derived throughout, as far as possible, from original authorities and other 
 authentic monuments of the past, compared with and read by the light of the latest inquiries 
 by which the critical spirit of modern times has illustrated our ancient annals. But a large 
 body of facts not comprehended under this head, but which form a most essential part of the 
 moral and social history of our country, will also be presented by us in ample detail. The 
 History of Common Life is the History of Civilization. Without a knowledge of the facts which 
 make up the History of the People, even mere political History is not always intelligible, and 
 it certainly often loses the better part of its interest. The History of Common Life is, however, 
 a larger and more elevated branch of History than has been usually considered. It is the 
 History of social improvement, — of much of legislation that is passed over or forgotten, — of 
 the administration of the laws. — of the progress of arts and of letters, — of the creation of 
 naiional wealih, — of the gradual diffusion of the products of industiy whether exhibited iu tho 
 food, the clothing, the buildings, the furniture, and the inter-communications of the masses of 
 which a nation is composed. 
 
 The writers of the ' Pictorial History of England ' will be numerous ; and they will under- 
 take their several portions of the work with reference to their individual tastes and acquire- 
 ments ; while a unity of plan will be secured by the whole being under the direction of a 
 responsil'le Editor. The labours of every writer engaged will primarily tend to the great 
 object of the work, that of prodixiug a History of the People, which admits of being made 
 the most entertaining and the most instructive of all Histories. 
 
 In every part of the ' Pictorial History of England,' the aid of the art of H'oodenyraving, 
 now carried to so high a perlection, will be ealled in, not merely to embeibsh the work, but to 
 convey a liveUer and more correct idea of many of the objects mentioned than could be given 
 by any verbal description. These illustrations will be executed by the first artists, so that in 
 its graphic as well as its literary department, the publication may deserve that extensive 
 support which can alone remunerate the Publishers.
 
 '* We liave jiaid consitlerable attention 1o t!iis truly 
 merilorious work, frem the appearance of the first piirt 
 down to the sevcntcentli, which brinjjs the historian 
 down to the middle of his hiboiirs, or a little bej end the 
 extraordinary ri iji'i of Henry VIII. We are thus 
 enabled to state, that an exceedingly gooil pl-in has 
 been worked out wiih much industry and spirit, and a 
 very vare impartiality. The plan indeed is excellent, 
 embracing many of the most interesiing facts connected 
 with our history as a people, and wliich hare been 
 generally neglected, or passed over very briefly, by our 
 historians. Kach book embraces a determinate period, 
 and contains, in additiun to a very full narrative of civil 
 and military transactions, a cha|iler on the history of 
 religion — a chapter on the progress of ihe constitution, 
 government, and laws — a chapter on ihe progress of the 
 national industry — another on the history of literature, 
 science, and tlie line arts— another on manners and 
 customs, and a seventh, und an exceedingly interesting 
 one, on the history oT the condition of the people. The 
 illustiations ore numerous and be.iutiful, serving to 
 convey a deal of useful iaformation. An idea m-iy be 
 formed of the liberal hand with which tliey aie given 
 when we state, that in Ihe first 12 parts, which form one 
 thick volume, there are no fewer tlian 52-t wood-cuts of 
 
 various kinds. It haa been the objectof the conductors 
 of the work to take llieso illustrations as nearly as 
 possible from pictures, sculptures, coins, or otherworks 
 of the period, which they are employed to ex|>liun. 
 The Pictorial History thus lays before the jiublie 
 many curious and qu;iint things which were not to be 
 met with except in a very expensive shape, and not a 
 few from illuminated M3S., and other precious relics 
 in the liritish Museum, and other repositories, which, 
 as _far as our knowledge fioes, have never been pub- 
 lished in any shape. Some of these old things are 
 wonderfully full of meaning and ch;iracfer. Tidten 
 collectively, they are in themselves a little historj' of the 
 progress of art in Great Britain. On the whole, we 
 scarcely know a work more likely to excite the attention 
 of the young. The book is so remarkably cheap, that 
 a hope may be enlertained of its finding its way into 
 every respectable house in the kingdom. The literary 
 part of the work has a claim to much more ample 
 notice than we can now afford it; but we may take an 
 eaily opportunity of returning to tlie subject, or at 
 least to some portion of it more paitlcularly distin- 
 guished by its novelty and excellence." — Metropolitan 
 Magazine, No. 89, September 1838. 
 
 PORl^RAIT ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PICTORIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND, 
 
 BCTCB.AVE3 ON STEBI.. 
 
 TO BE COMPLETED IN TWENTY MONTHLY PARTS, PRICE TWO 
 SHILLINGS EACH. 
 
 The Publishers of the Pictorial History of England, in the desire to give ad- 
 ditional value to their work, have delerinined to publish roncurrently, in a 
 uniform size, a selection from " The Gallery of Portraits," of which they are 
 the proprietors, with some additional heads. This " Gallery," as is well known, 
 compri'-es some of the most beautiful and aiitlieniic portraits, engraved by the 
 first artists of this country, of the most distinguished characters of modern times; 
 — and in making such a selection, with additions, as is now proposed, the 
 Publishers will be enabled to place within the reach of the subscribers to '' The 
 Pictorial History of England," at the most moderate price, a complete series 
 of Portraits of the master spirits who have most assisted in the progress of our 
 country's greatness. As the object of the Pictorial History of England is to 
 exhibit a History of the People as well as a History of the Kingdom, — and as it 
 accomplishes this object by describing not only the political events of each period, 
 but the advance of Literature, of Science, and of the Arts, — so this Collection 
 of Portrait Illustrations will include not only the great Statesmen and Warriors, 
 but the Divines, the Lawyers, the Phy.'-icians, the Men of Letters, the Men of 
 Science, and the Artists, who have most elevated our national character by 
 contributing the largest portions to our intellectual riches. It is to be observed 
 that this Collection of Portraits will be wholly Supplementary to the wood-cut 
 Illustrations contained in the Pictorial History; and that the portraits of his- 
 torical personages therein intended to be given will in no degree be superseded 
 by the work now announced. Nor will any Biographies accompany this Col- 
 lection of Portraits, but directions will be given at the completion of each volume 
 of the History, for placini; the plates in connexion with the text of the History. 
 The total additional cost of the History, with this splendid series of Engravings, 
 will be only Two Pounds.
 
 10 
 
 A NEW TRANSLATION OF THE 
 TALES OF A THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS, 
 
 KNOWN IN ENGLAND AS 
 
 THE ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS, 
 
 WITH COPIOUS NOTES. 
 
 By Edward William Lane, Esq., Author of "The Modern Eg-yptians." 
 
 Illustrated with many Hundred Woodcuts, engraved by the first Enji^lish Artists, 
 after Original Desig^ns by William Harvey, Esq. Publishing in Monthly 
 Parts, price 2s. 6d. each, forming three Splendid Volumes in royal 8vo. 
 
 The First VoUime is now ready, price 28s , handsomely bound in cloth. 
 
 THE TRANSLATOR'S ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 In preparing to offer to the English reader an entirely new version of the Tales of a Thousand 
 and One Nights, it is one of the chief objects of the translator to render these enchanting 
 fictions as interesting to persons uf mature age and education as they have hitherto been to 
 the young, and to do this without divesting them of those attractions which have chiefly 
 recommended them to the latter. The version which has so long amused us, nut made imme- 
 diately from the original Arabic, but through the medium of a French translation, is extremely 
 loose, and abounds with such errors as greatly detract from the most valuable quality of the 
 work, which is that of presenting a series of most faithful and minutely-detailed pictures of the 
 manners and customs of the Arabs. Deceived by the vague nature of this translation, tra- 
 vell< rs in Persia, Turkey, and India have often fancied that the Arabian Tales describe the 
 particular manners of the natives of these countries; but no one who has read the original 
 work, having an intimate acquaintance with the Arabs, can be "f this opinion : it is in Arabian 
 countries, and particularly in Egypt, that we see the people, the dress>e3, and the buildings 
 which it describes in almost every case, even when the scene is laid in Persia, in India, or in 
 China. Where Arabian manners and customs exist in the most refined state, /here should the 
 person who would translate these tales prepare himself for thi* task. This is the ca e, not withia 
 the proper limits of Arabia, but in Cairo ; as it was when the Tales of a Thousand and One 
 Nights were composed or compiled. Since the downfal of the Arab empire of Baghdad, Cairo 
 has been the chief of Arabian cities : its Memlook Sultans, introduced into Egypt in theiryonth, 
 naturally adopted, to a great degree, its manners, which the Csmaulee Turks in later d^ys hav« 
 but little altered. 
 
 The author of * The manners and customs of the Modern Egyptians' hopes, therefore, that he 
 may be considered as possessing the chief qualificatioas for the proper accomplishment of this 
 undertaking. He is engaged in translating the whole of the oiiginal work, with the exception 
 of such portions as he deems uninteresting, or on any account ohjectvmable, from a copy revised, 
 corrected, and illustrated with marginal and other notes, in Araliic, by a person whom he thinks 
 he may safely pronounce the first philologist of the first Arab college of the present day, the 
 Sheykh Mohammad *Eiyad Et-Tantawee, a Professor of ihe great mosque El-Azhar. Here he 
 should mention, that the poetry must generally be omitted; its usual chief merit consisting in 
 the use of paronomasia and other figures which render it untranslatable. The origirsal work 
 being designed solely for the entertamment of Arabs, copious notes will be added to the trans- 
 lation, to render it more intelligible and agreeable to the English reader. These notes will of 
 course greatly vary in number and extent in ditleient portions of the works : some will extend 
 to the length of several pages. In them the translator will he enabled to show, by extracts 
 from esteemed Arabic his'ories and scientific treatises, chiefly drawn from manuscripts in his 
 possession, as well as by assertions or anecdot.s that he has heard, or conduct that he has wit- 
 nessed during his intercourse with Arabs, that the most extravagant relations in the work are 
 not in general regarded, even by the educated classes of this people, as of an incredible nature. 
 This is a point which he deems of much importance to set the work in its proper light before 
 his countrymen. He has resided in a land where genii are still firmly believed to obey the 
 summons of the magician or the owner of a talisman, and to act in occurrences of every day ; 
 and he has listened to stories of their deeds related by persons of the highest respectability, 
 and by soma who would not condescend to read the Tales of a Thousand and One Nights 
 merely because they are fictions. 
 
 The Arabic names, titles. &c., occurring in this work, the translator will write in accordance 
 with a system more simple than that which he employed in his account of the Modern 
 Egyptians, and nearly agreeing with that most commonly used in this country, but more con- 
 genial with our language.
 
 11 
 
 The engravinj^s, which will be so numerously inlerspersed in the trans latiun, will consider ally 
 assist to explain both the text and the notes ; and to ensure their accuracy, to the utmost of 
 his ability, with respect to costume, architecture, and scenery, the translator will supply 1 he 
 artist with dresses and other requisite materials, and will be allowed to sugtjest any corrections 
 that he may find necessary, without fettering his imatjination, which, jud^^iug tVum the pro- 
 gress already made in the designs, promises to make the pictorial embellishments of the work 
 fully correspond with the rich variety of its descriptions. 
 
 E. W. L. 
 
 " No one wants to know tliu meanius^ of Arabian 
 Niglits. As a series of brilliant stories, th^y an- the 
 wonder of our cliiblhood, the delight of oar youth, and 
 tliey are eqaallj relished in mature ajje. A new editiuo 
 was wanteil. aconipamed by illuslration of manners, 
 iater[>retation of terms, and eliifidalion of expressions, 
 habits, and customs.by no means familiar to Kurotiean 
 nations. Thf improved scholarship of the day, and a 
 more intimate acquaintance with the languat^es of the 
 Kast, held out an expectation that, should any spirited 
 publisher determine upon accomplishing these matters, 
 he would also comlMne a new translation witli the other 
 arrangements of his speculation; and if the imagina- 
 tion of the pen has any kindred sympathy with the 
 pencil, we might also hope to see ' things deep and 
 mysterious' — the afrite, the genii, the peri, the mer- 
 
 chant, the Imautifiil slave, and all the wonders of tlie 
 East, pomlrayed in figures answering to the impres- 
 sions and associations familiarized tu luir own minds 
 by repealed perusals of this magazine of fiction. Now 
 each of these desirable ends has been answered by this 
 present edition, and the public may rest salisliecl in re- 
 purchasini^ the work, that every thing which art, i-uler- 
 prise, scholarship, and good taste may efffCt. has been 
 accomplished in thi* pn-sent beautiful uurabera, at a 
 small pi-ice, and with infinite credit to the spirit of tlie 
 publishers, Messrs. Knight and Co. The wood-cuts, 
 of which there i^ on*" in every page of the text, are ex- 
 quisitely designed and finished. We wish m ell to the 
 undertaking, and heartily recommend it to all who love 
 Eastern story." — Gloucester Chronicle, September 15. 
 
 THE MUSICAL LIBRARY, 
 
 COMPLETE IN FOUR VOLUMES OF INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC, AND FOUR 
 VOLUMES OF VOCAL MUSIC. 
 
 The ''Musical Library" was commencefl with a view to afford ttie same aid in 
 the progress of the musical art that literature had so undeniably received from 
 the cheap publications of the day. Before this work appeared, the exorbitant 
 sums demanded for engraved music amounted to a prohibition of its free circu- 
 lation among the middle classes. A " Musical Library " has now been formed, 
 containing a colleclion of music of the most varied character, and by the best 
 masters, ancient and modern, foreifjn and native. The older music has been 
 adapted to the improved condition of our musical instruments; and the foreign 
 vocal compositions, particularly the German, have in numerous instances been 
 provided with English words or translations of the originals. A large sale has 
 enabled the Publishers to etfect this at a very moderate price to the Public. 
 
 The Four VoUmies of each Series, Vocal and Instrumental, handsomely bound 
 in cloth, with ornamental Title-pages, are i-sued at Two Guineas. Any of the 
 volumes may be had separately, the first two of each Series price Haifa-Guinea 
 each volume ; the last two of each Series price Twelve Shillings each. The 
 volumes of Vocal and Instrumental Music are also each half-bound in 
 two vols, morocco, price £2. Bs. each Series. 
 
 A Classified Selection from the " Musical Library," irith lanje additions in 
 each division, is published under the title of 
 
 MUSICAL CLASSICS. 
 
 The following Vocal portions of this Series are in the press, and will be im- 
 mediately published : — 
 
 Madrigal;; Is. Qd. 
 
 Glees, 2 parts 15 
 
 Haydn's Canzonets, and other Songs ..50 
 Gems of Beethoven
 
 12 
 THE PICTORIAL EDITION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. 
 
 The Pictorial Edition of the Book of Common Prayer forms a Companion 
 Volume to the ' Pictorial Bible ;' and the Publishers beg to state, that whilst it 
 is their desiprn to produce one of the most splendidly illustrated Books which 
 has appeared in this or any other country, they are anxious to offer an edition of 
 our Litiiriiv, which, in its Annotations, shall be found as useful and unexcep- 
 tionable as the Notes to the Bible. It is obvious that the Annotations and 
 Introductory matter to the Common Prayer should be written by a Clero^yman 
 of the Church of England ; and they are fortunate in having been able to confide 
 this department to the Rev. H. Stebbing, Minister of Si. James's Episcopal 
 Chapel, Hampstead Road. The total number of Engravings in the Pictorial 
 Edition of the Book of Common Prayer is Six Hundred and Eighty-Nine. 
 
 £. s. d. 
 Price bound in cloth . . . . . 1116 
 
 coloured calf, gilt edi^es . . . 2 
 
 morocco or Russia, gilt edges , . 2 2 
 
 " Mr. Knight has deservedly acquired a high reputa- 
 tion for his pictorial pubUcatioas; but tliis, certaiuly, is 
 one of the most splei did works lie has yet produced in 
 this style. The idea seems to have been suggested by 
 the illuminated missals of old; although the illustra- 
 tions of this volume are executed in purer taste, and 
 with less attention to elaborate embellishment. t>ver 
 and above their own value as finely finished wood-cuts, 
 these ill iislral ions pos5ess an interest, as being copi-s 
 from Scriptural pi^ ces by the old masters. They, as 
 well as the initial lelleis. which are designed to be espe- 
 
 minds, a desire to be informed of the history and cir- 
 cumstances connected with them; by which means this 
 handsome volume may be expected, from lis attractive 
 embellishments, to find its way into the hands of many 
 to whom, wheiherfrom carelessness or rrom not l>elung- 
 ing to the Church, the Book of Common Prayer ordi- 
 narily remains a shut book : although the beautiful and 
 simple Liturgy of the Church of England proinrly 
 needs no gorgeous ornament lo ivcommend it, Mr. 
 Stebbing, the higbly giAed editor, has furnished a 
 considerable amount of instructive and edifying com- 
 
 cially applicible to the subject lo which they are at- ment; and his introductory History of the Liturgy is a 
 
 tached, are most exquisitely executed, and their beauty 
 and variety may be conceived, when it is stated that 
 they exceed six hundred in number. There is a charm 
 in illustrations of this kind which belongs peculiarly 
 ;o themselves. They excite, particularly in young 
 
 most valuable and interesting addition to the work. It 
 m'lst have required a most lavish expenditure to have 
 got up this targe and elegant volume in such a splendid 
 stj le. — Cvnsenntite Journal, September 29. 
 
 THE PICTORIAL EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 This portion of ihe Pictorial Bible is published separately, in a volume con- 
 taiuiug about 200 Wood-cuts, price 14s., cloth, lettered. 
 
 QUARTO EDITION OF THE PICTORIAL BIBLE; 
 
 In Four Handsome Volumes, price £A. \0s. 
 
 The Publishers have been induced to undertake a Quarto Edition (to corre- 
 spond with .Mant and D'Oyly's, Scott's, and other Ribles) at the urgent request 
 of many Correspondents, who are anxious that the Noies, whose value has been 
 universally recognized as forming in tliemselves a Library foi- the Religious 
 Student, should be printed in a larger type. The te.\t will, of course, be propor- 
 tionately larger. The alterations in this Edition uill be limited to a few Cor- 
 rections, the Engravings will be the same, and the impressions in every respect 
 as excellent as those of the Original Edition.
 
 13 
 
 Under (lie Sup.rintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 
 THE GALLERY OF PORTRAITS. 
 
 This Work contains Portraits and Memoirs of the most Illustrious Persons of all Countries. 
 Tlie Portraits have been executed by eminent artists i'rora the most authentic origin.ils ; and the 
 Memoirs have been drawn up with the greatest care and impartiality. The Seven Volumes ui 
 which the Work consists contain 168 Portraits. 
 
 Each Volume of the Gallehv of Portraits may he purchased separately, price 1/. Is. The 
 complete Series is aUo elegantly half-bound in morocco, price 8/. 
 
 Proofs on India Paper, Royal 4to., 2s. each; Proofs, Imperial 8vo., Is. each. 
 
 1 Addison, Joseph 58 Ealcr, Leonard 113 Palladio, Andrea 
 
 2 Alembert, Jeaule Rond d' 59 Fenelon, Abp. of Cambray 114 Pare, Ambroise 
 
 3 Antonio, Marc (Raimondi) 
 
 4 Ariiisto, Ludovico 
 
 5 Arkivright, Sir Richard 
 
 6 Bacon, Lord 
 
 7 Banks, Sir Joseph 
 
 8 Barrow, Dr. Isaac 
 
 9 Bentham, Jeremy 
 
 10 Bentley. Dr. Richard 
 
 11 Black, Dr. Joseph 
 
 12 Blake, Admiral Robert 
 
 13 Boccaccio, Giovanni 
 
 14 Bolivar, President Simon 
 
 15 Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux 
 IG Boyle, Robert 
 
 17 Bradley, Dr. James 
 
 18 Bramante 
 
 19 Brindiey, James 
 
 20 Buchanan, George 
 
 GO Flaxman, John 
 
 61 Franklin, Dr. Benjamin 
 
 62 Frederic II. of Prussia 
 Go Fox, Oharles James 
 
 64 Galileo Galilei 
 
 65 Gibbon, Edward 
 
 115 Pascal, Blaise 
 lie Penn, William 
 
 117 Perouse, Capt. de la 
 
 118 Peter I. of Russia 
 
 1 1 9 Petrarch, Francis 
 
 120 Pitt, Willinm 
 
 G6 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang 121 Pope, Alexander 
 
 67 Grotius, Hugo 
 
 68 Gustavus Adolphus of 
 
 Sweden 
 
 69 Hale, Sir Matthew 
 
 70 Halley. Edmund 
 
 71 Hampden, John 
 
 72 Handel, George Frederic 
 
 73 Harrison, John 
 
 74 Harvey. Dr. William 
 
 75 Henry IV. of France 
 
 76 Herschel. Sir William 
 
 77 Hobbes, Thomas 
 
 21 Buflbu, Geo. Lewis leClerc 
 
 22 Buonarotti, Michael Augelo 78 Hogarth, William 
 
 23 Burke, Edmund ~ ' 
 
 24 Calvin, John 
 
 25 C'auova, Antonio 
 
 26 Cartwright, Dr. Edmund 
 
 27 Catherine II. of Russia 
 
 28 Cervantes, Miguel de 
 
 29 Charles V., Emperor 
 
 30 Chatham, Eirl of 
 
 31 Chaucer, Geotirey 
 
 32 Clarendon, Earl of 
 ^S Claude Lorraine 
 
 34 Coke, Sir Edward 
 
 35 Colbert, Jean Bapti^>te 
 
 36 Cook, Cajit. James 
 
 37 Copernicus, Nicolas 
 
 38 CurneiUe, Peter 
 
 39 Correggio, Autonio da 
 
 40 Cortez, Fernando 
 
 41 Cowper, ^Viliiam 
 
 42 Cranmer, Archbishop 
 
 43 Cromwell, Oliver 
 
 44 Cuvier, Baron 
 
 79 Hume, David 
 
 80 Hunter, John 
 
 81 Jefferson, Pres. Thomas 
 
 82 Jenner. Dr. Edward 
 
 83 Johnson, Dr. Samuel 
 
 84 Jones, Sir William 
 
 85 Jonson, Ben 
 
 86 Kepler, John 
 
 87 Knox, John 
 
 88 Kosciusko, Thaddeus 
 
 89 La Grange, Joseph Lewis 
 
 90 La Place, Pierre Sunou 
 
 91 Lavoisier, Antoine Laurent 146 Spenser, Edmund 
 
 92 Leibnitz, Godfrey William 147 Smcl, Madame dt 
 
 122 Porsun, Dr. Richard 
 
 123 Poussin, Nicholas 
 
 124 Pries:ley, Dr. Joseph 
 
 125 Raffaelle 
 
 12G Raleigh, Sir Walter 
 
 127 Ray, John 
 
 128 Rembrandt 
 
 1 29 Reynolds, Sir Joshua 
 
 130 Richelieu, Cardmal 
 
 131 Rodney, Admiral Lord 
 
 132 Romilly, Sir .Samuel 
 
 133 Rousseau. Jean Jaques 
 
 134 Rubens, Sir Peler Paul 
 
 135 Scaliger, Joseph 
 
 136 Schiller, Fred. Christ, vou 
 
 137 Schwartz, Christian Fred. 
 
 138 Scott, Sir Walter 
 
 139 Selden, John 
 
 140 Shakspeare, William 
 
 141 Siddons, Mrs. 
 
 142 Smeaton, John 
 
 143 Smith, Adam 
 
 144 Sobieski, John, King of 
 P.dand 
 
 145 Somers. Lord 
 
 93 L'Hfipital, Michel de 
 
 94 Lionardo da Vinci 
 
 95 Linnseus, C ul von 
 
 96 Locke, John 
 
 97 Lorenzo de Medici 
 
 98 Loyola. Ignatius 
 
 99 Luther, Martin 
 100 MansHeld, Earl of 
 
 45 Dagues>eau,Henry Francois 101 Marlborough, Duke of 
 
 46 Dante d'Aligbieri 
 
 47 Davy, Sir Humphry 
 
 48 Defoe, Daniel 
 
 49 Delambre, Jean Baptiste 
 
 Joseph 
 
 50 Descartes, Rene 
 
 51 DoUond, John 
 
 52 Drake, Sir Francis 
 
 53 Drydeu, John 
 
 54 Elizabeth, Queen 
 
 55 Epee, Abbe de 1' 
 
 56 EraNinus. Desideiius 
 
 57 ErsKiuv, Lord 
 
 102 Maskelyne, Dr. Nevil 
 
 103 Melancthon, Pbibp 
 
 104 Mdton. John 
 
 105 Moliere, Jean Baptiste 
 
 106 Montaigne, Seigneur 
 
 Michel de 
 
 107 More, Sir Thorn is 
 
 148 Sully, Ducde 
 
 149 Swift, Dr. Jonathan 
 
 150 Sydenham, Dr. Thomas 
 
 151 Tasso, Tortpiato 
 
 1 52 Taylor, Jeremy 
 
 153 Thou, President de 
 
 154 Titian 
 
 155 Turenne, Marshal 
 
 15G Turgot, Anne Robt. James 
 
 157 Vaubau, Marshal 
 
 158 Voltaire, Franqois Marie 
 
 Arouet de 
 
 159 Washington, Pres. George 
 
 160 Walt, James 
 
 161 Wesley, Samuel 
 
 162 Wiclir, John 
 
 108 Mozart, J ohannChrysosto- 163 Wilberforce, William 
 
 mus Wolfgang Gottlieb 164 Witt, John de 
 
 109 Murillo,BartolomeEstebau 165 William III. of England 
 
 110 Napoleon, Eiiip. of Fiance 166 Wollaston, Dr. Wm. Hyde 
 HI NeKon, Lord 167 Wien, Sir Christopher 
 112 Newton, Sir Isaac !CS Ximenes, Cardinal
 
 14 
 
 In One Volume, super-royal Svc, 
 
 A TREATISE ON WOOD ENGRAVING, 
 
 HISTORICAL AND PRACTICAL, 
 
 With upwards of Three Hundred Illustrations, engraved on Wood, 
 
 BY JOHN JACKSON. 
 
 This Work, which contains upwards of Three Hundred Wood Engravings, 
 many of « hith are elaborate Fac-similes of some of the most scaice and beautiful 
 works in ihat branch of art, has occiipied the attention of INIr. Jackson (a pupil 
 of Bewick), as an engra\er, for nianv years. It \v;is Mr. Jackson's original 
 intention that the literary portion of the Work should have contained onK asiight 
 Sketch of the History, with some details of the Practice, of the Art. The his- 
 torical portion of the Work has, however, been greatly extended, Mr. Jackson 
 having been fortunate in procuring the literary assistance of Mr. W. A. Chatlo. 
 The following is a brief analysis of the Volume: — 
 
 In the tirst chapter an attempt is made to trace the principle of Wood En- 
 graving !rom the earliest authentic period. The second chapter contains an 
 accour.t of the progress of the art as exemplified in the earliest known single 
 cuts, and in the block-books which preceded the invention of typography. As 
 printing from movable types was unquestionably suggested by the earliest 
 block-books, the third chapter is devoted to an examination of the claims of 
 Guitemberg and Coster to the honour of this invention. The fourth chapter 
 contains an account of Wood Engraving in connection with the press, from the 
 establishment of typography to the latter end of the fifteenth centurv. The fifth 
 chajjter comprehends the period in which Albert Durer flourished, — that is, from 
 about 149S to 1528. The sixth contains a notice of the principal AVcodcuts 
 <lesigned by Holbein, with an account of the extension and improvement of the 
 art in the sixteenth century, and of its subsequent decline. In the seventh 
 chapter the history of the art is brought down Irom the commencement of the 
 eighteenth century to the present time. The eighth chapter contains an account 
 of the practice of the art, with remarks on Metallic Relief Engraving, and the 
 best mode of printing Wood-cuts. As no detailed account of the pracuce of 
 Wood Engraving has hitherto been published in England, it is presumed that 
 the information atforded by this pan ot the Work will not only be interesting to 
 amateurs of the art, but useful to those who are professionally connected with it. 
 
 In 2 vols., foolscap, price 12s., 
 
 THE BOOK OF HUMAN CHARACTER. 
 
 By Charles Bucke. 
 
 * Tlie result of an extensive intercourse «ith man- j staicstniin, the student, the man of the world, the mau 
 
 kind, great capjibility of observation and reflection, 
 ^reat coolness of jml^ment, and keen penetration in 
 analyzing the springs of liuiuan action." — Horning Ad- 
 vertiser. 
 
 ■' Of his style nothing can be said but in piaise." — 
 Monthly Red' w. 
 
 "The table of contents alone exceeds the value of 
 more than half the books that are published. The 
 
 of business, nay, all that live m civilized society, mav 
 derive essential benefit even from a casual perusal."— 
 Noi th American. 
 
 *' It is no exa;:geration to say, that to have read the 
 books referred lu and quolfd from, must have been the 
 work of a life. The v**rj' names of the poets, philoso- 
 phers, and painters, scattered thrvugh these \o nines, 
 render th. m precious."— ^MeRAvm. 
 
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 In 8vo., price 7s. in cloth. 
 
 RAVITATION : An Elementary Explanation of the Principal Perturbations 
 of the Solar System. (Written lor the " Penny Cyclopsdia," and now 
 previously published for the use of Students in the University of Cambridge.) 
 By G. B. Airy, A.M., late Fellow of Trinity College, and Plnmian Professor of 
 Astronomy and Experimental Philosophy in the University of Cambridge.
 
 15 
 
 Now publishing monthly, in super-royal octavo Parts, price 2s. 6d., 
 THE PICTORIAL EDITION 
 
 SHAKSPERE. 
 
 Dr.. Drake, in the Prefatory Essay to his " Memoirs of Shakspere," points 
 attention to a want which every general reader has long felt: — " It is devoutly 
 to be wished that an edition of Shakspere were undertaken, which, whilst in the 
 notes it expunged all that was trifling, idly controversial, indecorous, and 
 abusive, should, at tlie same time, retain every interesting disquisition, though 
 in many iustanres re-modelled, re-written, and condensed ; nor fearing to add 
 what further research, under the guidance of good taste, mig-ht suffo-est." 
 
 Such an edition of Shakspere as Dr. Drake has here so judiciously described 
 it will be attempted in the " Pictorial Shakspere " to supply. 
 
 But, in addition to the literary illustrations of Shakspere that may be sup- 
 plied by judicious research and careful selection, there is a vast storehouse of 
 materials yet unemployed, that may, with singular propriety, be used for adding 
 both to the inforination and the enjoyment of the readers of our great Poet — we 
 mean Pictorial Illustrations. We have embellished editions ot Shakspere, out 
 of number, that attempt to represent the incidents of his scenes and translate his 
 characters into portraits for the eye — with greater or less success : but we have 
 no edition in which the aid of Art has been called in to give a distinctness to the 
 conceptions of the reader by representing the 
 
 REALITIES 
 
 ■upon which the imagination of the Poet must have rested. Of these Pictorial 
 Illustrations many, of course, ought to be purely antiquarian ; — but the larger 
 number of subjects offer a combination of the beautii'ul with the real, which 
 must heighten the pleasure of the reader far more than any fanciful representa- 
 tion, however skilful, of the incidents of the several dramas. 
 
 IN THE DESIGNS AND ENGRAVINGS OF THE WOOD CUTS 
 
 the most eminent Artists will be employed. 
 
 THE NOTES 
 
 will embrace every subject that appears necessary to he investigated for liie 
 complete information of the reader. The almost endless variety of objects pre- 
 sented in the text will call for the best assistance that the Editor can procure 
 from gentlemen conversant with particular departments. 
 
 THE VARIOUS READINGS AND THE GLOSSARIAL NOTES 
 
 will be presented at the foot of each page ; whilst the fuller annotations will be 
 appended to each Act. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTORY NOTICE 
 
 will be prefixed to each Play, which will point out — 1. The Historical Facts, 
 the real or imaginary incidents, and the complete Stories or detached passages 
 in works of imagination, from either of which the plot of the Drama, or any 
 portion of it, is supposed to be derived ; — 2. The evidence which exists to esta- 
 blish the date when the Play was written.
 
 16 
 
 3. THE PERIOD AND THE LOCALITY OF THE DRAMA, 
 
 with an account of the materials from vvliich the local illustrations have been 
 derived. 
 
 4. THE COSTUME OF THE DRAMA, 
 
 in which Notice will be introduced Wood-cuts, copied from ancient MSS. or 
 books that may exhibit the authentic Costume of the place and of the period 
 which the Poet had in his mind. 
 
 5. THE MUSIC OF THE DRAMA, 
 
 in which the original airs of Shakspere's exquisite Songs will, as far as possible, 
 be given, with an account of the later Musical Compositions that have been 
 adapted to the Poet's words. At the end of each Play 
 
 A SUPPLEMENTARY NOTICE 
 
 will contain an examination of the various Critical Opinions upon each Play; 
 and in this portion of the Work it will be the duty of the Editor, while he avoids 
 any obtrusive exhibition of his own opinions, to analyse and present in one view 
 whatever is valuable in the multifarious criticisms upon Shakspere, and especially 
 to exhibit those views (no edition of Shakspere having yet presented such to us) 
 which do justice not only to the surpassing beauty of detached passages of our 
 great Dramatist, but which point out the consummate judgment which he dis- 
 plays in the conduct of his Slory, his wonderful Method, his exquisite Art, the 
 imperishable freshness of his scenes, the unerring truth of his Characters. 
 
 In this edition the Comedies and Tragedies will be published, as nearly as 
 can be ascertained, in the order in which they were written, hut in separate 
 classes; and the Histories according to the order of events. Whilst this 
 arrangement is preserved with reference to the completion of the work in 
 volumes, a necessary variety wiH be ottered in the periodical publication of Plays 
 taken from each of the three classes, as for example : — 
 
 Part 1. — Two Gentlemen of Verona Comedy. 
 
 — 2. — King John History. 
 
 — 3. — Romeo and Juliet Tragedy. 
 
 Tlie following are also published : — 
 
 Part 4. — Love's Labour's Lost. 
 
 — 5. — -King Richard the Second. 
 
 — 6. — Henry the Fourth, Part I. 
 
 The Plays will occupy Thirty-seven Parts. The entire work, including 
 
 SHAKSPERE'S SONNETS AND OTHER POEMS, AND A LIFE 
 
 OF SHAKSPERE, 
 
 with local Illustrations, as well as other introductory matter, will extend to 
 Forty-four Parts. The ultimate arrangemement will be as follows: — 
 
 Parts. Vols. 
 
 Comedies 14 2 
 
 Histories 10 2 
 
 Tragedies 131 
 
 Poems, Life, &c 6 1 
 
 Index ^ ^ 
 
 44 
 
 Loudon: Ptinti-tl by W. Ci.owks aad Suns, Siamloul Slivet.
 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
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 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW. 
 
 Series 9482
 
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