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either left in a minority, or obliged to withdraw it. Some member attempted to pursue this apparent triumph by a more decisive resolution. How little is he acquainted with this house!" said Mr. Daly. "Were I a minister, and wished to carry a very untoward measure, it would be directly after we had passed some strong resolution against the court. So blended is the good nature of Irish gentlemen with their habitual acquiescence, that unless party, or the times, are very violent indeed, we always wish to shrink from a second resolution against a minister, and to make, as it were, some atonement for our precipitate patriotism, by as rapid a return to our original civility and complai

sance.'

He died at an early period, not very much beyond forty. A nervous disorder, to which he had been long subject, at last closed his days. He rose to speak one night in the House of Commons, when, after delivering a sentence or two, with imperfect articulation, he made a full pause. The house cheered him with its usual approbation and respect. He continued silent. It was then perceived that his malady had so much increased, as to render him totally unable to go on. The stillness which succeeded for some moments, and the generous sympathy which the house displayed, anxious at the same time to conceal, if possible, their feelings from him, produced the most interesting, indeed affecting scene, which I ever witnessed in any popular assembly. It was the last effort he ever made to express his sentiments in public.

BISHOP OF DERRY.

Frederick, earl of Bristol, and bishop of Derry, was the son of Lord Hervey, so generally, but so imperfectly known, by the malign antithesis, and epigrammatic lines of Pope. His mother, Lady Hervey, was also the subject of that poet's muse; but his muse when playful and in good humour. Two noblemen of very distinguished talents, the earls of Chesterfield and Bath, have also celebrated her in a most witty and popular ballad. Lord Bristol was a man of considerable parts, but far more brilliant than solid. His family was indeed famous for talents, equally so for eccentricity; and the eccen tricity of the whole race shone out, and seemed to be concentrated in him. In one respect, he was not unlike Villiers, duke of Buckingham, "Every thing by starts, and nothing long." Generous, but uncertain; splendid, but fantastical; an admirer of the fine arts, without any just selection; engaging, often licentious in conversation; extremely polite, extremely violent ;-it is indubitably true, that amidst all his erratic course, his bounty was not seldom directed to the most proper and deserving objects. His distribution of church livings, chiefly, as I have been informed, among the older and respectable clergy in his own diocese, must always be mentioned with that warm approbation which it is justly entitled to. It is said, (how truly I know not) that he had applied for the Bishopric of Durham, afterwards for the Lieutenancy of Ireland; was refused both, and, hine ille lacrymæ, hence his opposition. But the inequality, the ir

regular

regular flow of his mind at every period of his life, sufficiently illustrate his conduct at this peculiar and momentous period. Such however was this illustrious prelate, who, notwithstanding he scarcely ever attended Parliament, and spent most of his time in Italy, was now called upon to correct the abuses of Parliament, and direct the vessel of state in that course, where statesmen of the most ex perience, and persons of the calmest judgment, have had the misfortune totally to fail. His progress from his diocese to the Metropolis, and his entrance into it, were perfectly correspondent to the rest of his conduct. Through every town on the road he seemed to court, and was received, with all warlike honours; and I remember seeing him pass by the Parliament House in Dublin, (Lords and Commons were then both sitting) escorted by a body of dragoons, full of spirits and talk, apparently enjoying the eager gaze of the surrounding multitude, and displaying altogether the self-complacency of a favourite Marshal of France, on his way to Versailles, rather than the grave deportment of a Prelate of the church of England.

EDMUND BURKE.

The following is taken partly from Lord Charlemont's hand writing.

"This most amiable and ingenious man was private Secretary to Lord Rockingham. It may not be superfluous to relate the following anecdote, the truth of which I can assert, and which does honour to him, and his truly noble patron.

Soon after Lord Rockingham, upon the warm recommendation of many friends, had appointed Burke his Secretary, the Duke of Newcasthe, wishingprobably to procure the place for some dependant of his own, waited on Lord Rockingham, over whom his age, party dignity, and ancient family connection, had given him much influence, and even some degree of authority, and informed him, that he had unwarily taken into his service a man of dangerous principles, and one who was by birth and education a Papist, and a Jacobite; a calumny founded upon Burke's Irish connections, which were most of them of that persuasion, and upon some juvenile follies arising from those connections. The Marquis, whose genuine whiggism was easily a larmed, immediately sent for Burke, and told him what he had heard. It was easy for Burke, who had been educated at the University of Dublin, to bring testimonies to his Protestantism; and with regard to the second accusation, which was wholly founded on the former, it was soon done away, and Lord Rockingham, readily and willingly disabused, declared that he was perfectly satisfied of the falsehood of the information he had received, and that he no longer harboured the smallest doubt of the integrity of his principles; when Burke, with an honest and disinterested boldness, told his Lordship, that it was now no longer possible for him to be his Secretary; that the reports he had heard would probably, even unknown to himself, create in his mind such suspicions as might prevent his thoroughly confiding in him, and that no earthly consideration should in

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duce him to stand in that relation, with a man who did not place entire confidence in him. The Marquis struck with this manliness of sentiment, which so exactly corresponded with the feelings of his own heart, frankly, and positively assured him, that what had passed, far from leaving any bad impression on his mind, had only served to fortify his good opinion, and that, if from no other reason, he might rest assured, that from his conduct upon that occasion alone, he should ever esteem, and place in him the most unreserved confidential trust A promise which he faithfully performed; neither had he at any time, nor his friends after his death, the least reason to repent of that confidence; Burke having ever acted towards him with the most inviolase faith and affection, and towards his surviving friends, with a constant and disinterested fidelity, which was proof against his own indigent circumstances, and the magnificent offers of those in power. It must, however, be confessed, that his early habits and connections, though they could never make him swerve from his duty, had given his mind an almost constitutional bent towards the popish party. Prudence is, indeed, the only virtue he does not possess; from a total want of which, and from the amiable weaknesses of an excellent heart, his estimation in England, though still great, is certainly diminished. What it was at this period, will appear from the following fact, which, however trifling, I here relate as a proof of the opinion formed of him by some of his party. Having dined at Lord RockIngham's, in company with him

VOL. LIII.

and Sir Charles Sanders, Sir Charles carried me in his coach to Almack's. On the way, Burke was the subject of our conversation, when the Admiral, lamenting the declining state of the empire, earnestly and solemnly declared, that if it could be saved, it must be by the virtue and abilities of that wonderful man."

Thus far Lord Charlemont. Something, though slight, may here be added. Burke's disunion, and final rupture with Mr. Fox, were attended with circumstances so distressing, so far surpassing the ordinary limits of civil rage, or personal hostility, that the mind really aches at the recollection of them, But let us view him, for an instant, in better scenes, and better hours. He was social, hospitable, of pleasing access, and most agreeably communicative. One of the most satisfactory days, perhaps, that I ever passed in my life, was going with him tête à tete, from London to Beaconsfield. He stopped at Uxbridge, whilst his horses were feeding, and happening to meet some gentlemen, of I know not what militia, who appeared to be perfect strangers to him, he entered into discourse with them, at the gate-way of the inn. His conversation, at that moment, completely exemplified what Johnson said of him; "That you could not meet Burke for half an hour, under a shed, without saying that he was an extraordinary man." He was, on that day, altogether uncommonly instructive and agreeable. Every object of the slightest notoriety, as we passed along, whether of natural or local history, furnished him with abundant materials for

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conversation. The house at Uxbridge, where the treaty was held, during Charles the First's time; the beautiful, and undulating grounds of Bulstrode, formerly the residence of Chancellor Jefferies; and Waller's tomb, in Beaconsfield Church yard, which, before we went home, we visited, and whose character, as a gentleman, a poet, and an orator, he shortly delineated, but with exquisite felicity of genius, altogether gave an uncommon interest to his eloquence; and, although one and twenty years have now passed since that day, I entertain the most vivid and pleasing recollection of it. He reviewed the characters of many Statesmen; Lord Bath's, whom, I think, he personally knew, and that of Sir Robert Walpole, which he pourtrayed in nearly the same words which he used with regard to that eminent man, in his appeal from the Old Whigs to the New. He talked much of the great Lord Chatham; and amidst a variety of particulars concerning him, and his family, stated, that his sister, Mrs. Anne Pitt, used often in her altercations with him to say, "That he knew nothing whatever, except Spenser's Fairy Queen." "And," continued Mr. Burke, "no matter how that was said; but whoever relishes, and reads Spenser, as he ought to be read, will have a strong hold of the English language." These were his exact words. Many passages, or phrases, from his own works, abundantly testify, that be had himself carefully read that

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great poet: his Reflections on the French Revolution particularly. Of Mrs. Anne Pitt, he said, that she had the most agreeable and uncommon talents, and was, beyond all comparison, the most perfectly eloquent person he ever heard speak.* He always, as he said, lamented that he did not put on paper a conversation he had once with her; on what subject I forget.

The richness, variety, and solidity of her discourse, absolutely astonished him.

EARL OF MOIRA.

He was one of Lord Charlemont's earliest friends, and for many years his parliamentary coadjutor in the House of Peers. He was a scholar, well versed in ancient as well as modern literature; possessed of much and truly useful information, which he communicated with peculiar agreeableness, for his diction was remarkable for its facility and purity, and his conceptions clear and unembarrassed; -he was a constant reader; in truth, few men of any rank read so constantly;-his studies leaned much to scientific subjects, and those of natural history, which he well understood. He was very conversant also in the polite arts; and his library, to which every one had access, was a noble collection of books, the most useful, as well as the most agreeable. In politics he was a Whig, of true revolution principles,

Lord Bolingbroke admired Mr. Pitt, (Lord Chatham,) extremely, but not so much as his sister, Mrs. Anne Pitt. The former, he always termed Sublimity Pitt, and the latter, Divinity Pitt. However, he never, I believe, heard Pitt speak in ahe House of Commons,

principles, that is, attached to monarchy and the people. From the moment that he first took his seat in the House of Lords, to the close of his life, (a long period) his conduct was that of a truly independent Peer. He often opposed, he never attempted to vilify or debase the Government. With many of the Lord Lieutenants he lived on terms of intimacy or civility; but, I believe, never once asked a favour from one of them. With an elocution the most unembarrassed, as I have already stated, but adapted, perhaps, more to society than to public life, and with general political knowledge, he very seldom spoke in Parliament; on one or two occasions he was forced, by idle asperity, to assert himself; he did so, with a just spirit and his usual good manners. In the earlier part of his life he had lived much abroad, or in England, in the best company of the older part of the court of George the Second, and to his last hour retained the agreeable and polished manners of that society; in this respect it is not easy to do him justice; there was nothing artificial, nothing forced, in his good breeding;-it was a courtesy always flowing, never wearying, directed to every one, but still measured; never losing sight of the humblest as well as the highest in his company, never displaying his rank, and never departing from it. Lord Charlemont used often to say, that he was one of the best bred men of his age. He had, like other men, his foibles, but they were slight, and too often magnified by illiberality, ignorance, and adulation of ministerial power; but there was not one gentleman (I lay laim to that word only as our an.

cestors understood, and limited the use of it) in either House of Parliament, or out of Parliament, who, if acquainted with him, did not regard and respect him. His house will be long, very long, remem bered; it was for many years the seat of refined hospitality, of good nature, and good conversation; in doing the honours of it, Lord Moira had certainly one advantage above most men, for he had every assistance that true magnificence, the nobleness of manners peculiar to exalted birth, and talents for society the most cultivated, could give him, in his illustrious Countess.

MR. BROWNLOW.

It was impossible for any one who sat and voted with Mr. Brownlow, for several years in Parlia ment, to pass over his death without offering some tribute to his memory. His ancestors had, for more than a century, represented the county of Armagh, and he himself became one of its members very early in life. His election was not only severely contested, but became afterwards the source of a most notable trial of parliamentary strength between Primate Stone and Mr. Boyle. Mr. Brownlow had been espoused by the former. The only question regarded, at that time, in the Committee of Elections, was, whether the petitioner or sitting member was most favoured by those who had most parliamentary influence. Nothing else was thought on. This was indecorous in the extreme; but it was not an indecorum of which our House of Commons had mono2 C 2

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