against what he was constantly describing as the most insidious and effective means of warping the judgment and conciliating the favourable opinion of mankind. It was the brilliant eloquence, graceful address, and external accomplishments of Bolingbroke, not the depth of his philosophy, or the combined justness and comprehensiveness of his understanding, that led his noble admirer to describe him as "a most mortifying instance of the violence of human passions, and of the weakness of the most improved and exalted human reason; as if, like Bacon, he were the wisest, brightest, and weakest (if not meanest) of mankind. Bolingbroke's political essays are still read for the sake of his style, which flows with a clear, rapid, abundant, and occasionally sparkling current; although it is far inferior to Dryden's in rich and varied ornament, to Addison's in idiomatic ease, and to Swift's in perspicuity; but his philosophical lucubrations are principally remembered by Dr. Johnson's rough denunciation of them and their author "Sir, he was scoundrel and a coward a scoundrel, for charging a blunderbuss against religion and morality; a coward, because he had not the resolution to fire it off himself, but left half-a-crown to a beggarly Scotchman (Mallett) to draw the trigger after his death."

There is a popular superstition about wills which has been known to influence men of acknowledged strength of mind; but, on the other hand, a will has frequently been selected as the depository of a posthumous jest or sarcasm. David Hume, in humorous reference to his cousin John Home's dislike of port, bequeathed the author of "Douglas" two dozen, on condition that he fairly drank it out himself; and Lord Chesterfield thus limits the devise of his property to his heir:-"In case my godson, Philip Stanhope, shall at any time hereinafter keep, or be

concerned in the keeping, of any race-horses or pack of hounds, or reside one night at Newmarket, that infamous seminary of iniquity and ill manners, during the course of the races there; or shall resort to the said races, or shall lose in any one day, at any game or bet whatsoever, the sum of 500l.; then, in any of the cases aforesaid, it is my express wish that he, my said godson, shall forfeit and pay out of my estate the sum of 5000l., to and for the use of the dean and chapter of Westminster." This last sentence, adds Lord Mahon, contains a lively touch of satire. The Earl found, or believed that he found, the chapter of Westminster of that day exorbitant and grasping in their negotiations with him respecting the purchase of land for the building of Chesterfield House; and he declared that he now inserted their names in his will because he felt sure that, if the penalty should be incurred, they would not be remiss in claiming it.

Lord Chesterfield died on the 24th of March, 1773, in the 79th year of his age, and was succeeded in his title and estates by a distant kinsman, Philip Stanhope, the father of the present Earl. The concluding period of his life was far from happy, though he was apparently surrounded with all that should accomold age. The son of his affections was no more, pany and had disappointed him ; he derived no comfort from his wife; he had failed, according to his own notions, as a courtier; and his deafness had deprived him of his chief enjoyment in society. M. Suard, who saw him in 1769, says "Je viens d'être presenté au Comte de Chesterfield, qui a été, comme vous savez, l'homme le plus aimable, le plus poli, le plus spirituel des trois royaumes; mais, hélas ! quantum mutatus ab illo! Il est bien triste d'être sourd, nous dit-il, quand on aurait beaucoup de plaisir à écouter. Je ne suis pas aussi sage que mon ami le Président de

Montesquieu. Je sais être aveugle, m'a-t-il dit plusieurs fois, et moi je ne sais pas encore être sourd." He called his daily drive through the streets the rehearsal of his funeral, and used to say of Lord Tyrawley and himself: "Tyrawley and I have been dead these two years, but we don't choose to have it known."

The loss of sight was added to his other miseries; but he retained his memory and his politeness to his latest breath. Only half an hour before he died, Mr. Dayrolles came to see him, and the Earl had just strength enough to gasp out in a faint voice from his bed "Give Dayrolles a chair." "His good breeding," exclaimed Dr. Warren, the physician in attendance, "only quits him with his life!"

254

LORD MELBOURNE.*

(FROM THE MORNING CHRONICLE, Nov. 27, 1841.)

THE death of Lord Melbourne, although the last six years of his life were passed in retirement, has made a deep and melancholy impression upon many who were never honoured by his friendship, fascinated by his conversation, or gladdened by his laugh. It is very generally felt that another great illustration of a bygone period has been taken from us; and we admire and mourn over him, without pausing to ask, or caring to know, whether the prominent and ostensible parts he played on the stage of public life will justify our admiration, or account for our regret. Perhaps they will not. In this peculiar instance, the statesman is indissolubly blended with the man. It would be a crying injustice to his memory merely to number up the offices he filled, the speeches he made in this or that House, the measures he did or did not carry, and forget the influence of his frankness, manliness, sterling good sense, independent tone of thought, chivalrous honour, and consummate knowledge of his countrymen, when the throne relied on him as its chief supporter, or when agitation was on the point of becoming revolution at the bidding of colleagues less scrupulous as well as incalculably less capable of estimating the English character. In the remarks, therefore, which we are about to make on his life and career, it will be our principal object to convey an accurate impression of his personal

* The additions to this sketch consist principally of personal reminiscences. A more detailed account of Lord Melbourne's political career, from the able and spirited pen of Sir Henry Bulwer, appeared in the Edinburgh Review, Jan. 1849.

qualities, being convinced that this is the best method. of enabling the public to understand and appreciate him.

He was born on the 18th of March, 1779, and educated at Eton, Glasgow, and Cambridge. Having an elder brother (Peniston, who died in 1805), he was originally intended for the bar, and actually assumed the wig and gown in 1804. He retained through life a vivid impression of his short forensic career, and a warm interest in the profession; although his opinion of one branch of it was neither flattering nor just. Speaking of solicitors, he wrote: "All that I have ever seen have all the same manner; hard, cold, incredulous, distrustful, sarcastic, and sneering. They are accustomed to be conversant with the worst part of human nature, and with the most discreditable transactions. They have so many falsehoods told them, that they place confidence in none."

His practical pursuit of the law was limited to a single attendance at the Lancashire Sessions in company with the late Lord Abinger, through whose recommendation he received a guinea brief; and he used to say that the first sight of his name upon this document gave him the highest feeling of triumphant satisfaction he ever experienced, very far transcending that which he enjoyed on being appointed Prime Minister. His marriage, the death of his elder brother, and his election for Leominster in the year following (1805), led to his speedy abandonment of the law as a profession, and during many years he apparently led a careless, indolent, pococurante life, divided between the gay circles of London and the House of Commons. But it is a great mistake to suppose that he was really idle, or that he was under-valued by his contemporaries, or that the prophecy of his future eminence, like most prophecies of the same description, was not made known till after its fulfilment.