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king's character. In the private and domestic virtues, few men, and certainly no monarch, ever excelled him. Lord Mahon admits that his education was neglected by his mother and mismanaged by his governors-that his range of reading was not extensive, nor his taste within that range always happythat his manner in conversation did great injustice to his own endowments that his style was not always strictly grammatical; but then, on the other hand, the earnest, plain, and sincere convictions of the sovereign, his clear good sense and sterling judgment, commanded respect. The more the private papers of this reign come to light (as Lord Mahon truly says), the more it will appear how closely, during sixty years, he superintended all the movements of the great political machine. Lord Mahon, with all his enthusiasm for George III., does not deny that his prepossessions for or against any statesman were mostly too strong and difficult to conquer, nor that his firmness sometimes hardened into obstinacy, nor that his earlier years were deformed by errors and consequent unpopularity; but the longer he lived, and the better he was understood, the more his subjects felt how closely his general views and principles, his tastes and habits, were in accordance with their own. We do not go with Lord Mahon the length of contending that not Henri Quatre, not Maria Theresa, not even our own Elizabeth, were more deeply rooted in the hearts of the people they ruled than George III.; but we do say that with the mass of his subjects he enjoyed a homely, heartfelt, and very general popularity. Even his early partiality for Bute had its root in considerable virtues. Affection and duty to his parent, esteem for those whom she mainly trusted, and the generous warmth of friendship and of youth, might have bound a monarch to a worse favourite than Bute. Of the royal partner of George III. Lord Mahon draws as judicious a character as of the king himself. An ever-present yet unostentatious piety, to the king an affectionate reverence, to her children an unremitting care, prudence, economy, good sense, and good temper, were amongst her excellent qualities.

The kinsmanship and connexion that existed between the families of Pitt and Stanhope is well known, yet this does not blind the heir of Chevening to the errors of the great commoner. In speaking of the close of Pitt's justly renowned administration, he says, 'Even amidst the full blaze of its glory there arose some murmurs at its vast expense, the only objection of any weight, I think, that has ever been urged against it. Yet, as Lady Hervey writes to Mr. Morris, 'It has cost us a great deal, it is true, but then we have had success and honour for our money. Before Mr. Pitt came in, we spent vast sums only to purchase disgrace and infamy. For receiving a peerage and a pension on quitting office in 1761, Pitt has been often and severely blamed. The acceptance of both, Lord Mahon is inclined to vindicate,' but at the same time he expresses the opinion that Pitt's own letters on the subject, which have of late been made public, are unduly pompous in their language, and yet at the same time unduly humble in their tone. Another step taken by Pitt on his resignation Lord Mahon admits to be wanting in good taste-namely, his announcement of his seven coachhorses for sale.

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Of the peace of 1762 Lord Mahon has no very high opinion. The terms we obtained appear to him by no means commensurate to the conquests we had made, nor to the expectations which had been not unreasonably raised. On the other hand, the misrepresentations raised against the treaty were far greater than its defects. Party rancour produced a personal charge of corruption against Lord Bute. The charge was eighty-two years ago brought forward in the House of Commons, and was then signally foiled; but it is reproduced in Wilberforce's private diary in these words:- I dined with Lord Camden he is sure that Lord Bute got money by the peace of Paris. He can account for his sinking 300,000%. in land and houses, and his paternal estate in the island which bears his name is not above 1500l. a-year, and he is a life tenant of Wortley, which may be 8000l. or 10,000l." Little as Lord Mahon has shown himself

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disposed to applaud Lord Bute's policy, he points out the improbability of this charge, and the great hardship and injustice of condemning any character even on a chancellor's authority, without a trace of legal proof.

The agreeable style the careful spirit of inquiry-the scholarship, science, general reading, and observation, of Lord Mahon, are nowhere more remarkable than in tracing the progress of our manufactures and social improvements. His account of the potteries, and the improvements introduced by Wedgewood, by Arkwright, by Hargreaves, and by Samuel Crompton in the cotton trade; by the Duke of Bridgewater and Brindley in inland navigation; by Smeaton and Watt in engineering -are admirable specimens of that quiet, unpretending, yet satisfying style in which history ought to be written.

It is worthy of note, that scarce any of the great improvements of which Lord Mahon so felicitously traces the history and progress were free at first from the obstruction of prejudice and ignorance.

Lord Mahon's remarks on the character of George Grenville as Prime Minister bear out the view we have ourselves taken of that right hon. gentleman in a previous part of this article. Lord Mahon considers him to have been an excellent speaker spoiled. His whole mind was cast in the mould of precedents and order. Of his most familiar letters,' says Lord Mahon, I should have guessed that they must have been grave and solemn, and I have been surprised to find that they do not all begin exactly like an act of parliament, with the word whereas."

Speakers, it must be admitted, however respectable or respected, do not make satisfactory premiers. The cases of Sir Spencer Compton in 1727, of Mr. Addington in 1801, and Sir Charles Manners Sutton in 1832, are instances in point. George Grenville might be added to this class of cases; for though he was never in fact raised to the chair, yet he had been designated for it two years before he became premier, with the general concurrence of the house. His two principal measures

were the expulsion of Wilkes from parliament, and the taxation of America; and both have been long acknowledged, even by men of the most conservative opinions-such as the author before us-to have been not only disastrous, but in the highest degree unwise.

In remarking on the Grenville Correspondence, we have shown the close intimacy that existed between Wilkes and Earl Temple, and the frequent epistolary communications that passed between them. To the credit of the elder Pitt be it spoken, there never was any personal intimacy between him and Wilkes; and in 1763, the great commoner condemned the whole series of North Britons as illiberal and detestable; stating that he neither associated nor communicated with such men.

No friendships, no allegations,' said he, 'could induce me to approve what my conscience condemns. It may be supposed that I allude to my noble relative, Lord Temple. I know nothing of any connexion between him and the writer of the libel.'

These words,' says Lord Mahon, 'were not forgotten sometime afterwards, but were quoted with a kind of malignant pleasure when the friendship thus vaunted as eternal came to be dissolved.'

In the fourth volume of Lord Mahon, there are two admirable chapters on India; in which the rise and progress of our Eastern empire is sketched with a master's hand. In the fifth volume there is as carefully compiled and as spirited a sketch of the great American struggle for independence, for which the materials have been collected with most commendable industry, and used with a rare impartiality.

As an Englishman, the sympathies of Lord Mahon are of course with the mother country; but withal we must say candour and impartiality are apparent throughout his remarks. He admits and acknowledges that injurious and oppressive acts of power had been inflicted by Engla upon America, but he m and truly, that from m States, and above all chusetts, there ha provocation. H that the Amer grounds for r

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resist, the ministerial and popular measures; but, he urges, that it is more doubtful whether the ministerial and parliamentary measures had yet attained a pitch to justify them in discarding and renouncing their allegiance to the throne.

The following observations merit attention, not merely for their temper but for their truth, while they afford a specimen of Lord Mahon's easy and equable style :

The great mass of the people meant honestly on both shores of the Atlantic. The two chief men in both countries were alike pure-minded. On the one side there were deeds that savoured of tyranny, on the other side there were deeds that savoured of rebellion; yet at heart George the Third was never a tyrant, nor Washington ever a rebel. Of Washington I most firmly believe, that no single act appears in his whole public life proceeding from any other than public, and those the highest, motives. But my persuasion is no less firm that there would be little flattery in applying the same terms of respect and commendation to the good old King.' I do not, indeed, deny, that some degree of prejudice and pride may, though unconsciously, have mingled with his motives. I do not deny, that at the outset of these troubles he lent too ready an ear to the glozing reports of his Governors and Deputies-the Hutchinsons or Olivers-assuring him that the discontents were confined to a factious few, and that measures of rigour and repression alone were needed. For such measures of rigour he may deserve, and has incurred, his share of censure. But after the insurgent colonies had proclaimed their independence, is it just to blame King George, as he often has been blamed, for his steadfast and resolute resistance to that claim? Was it for him, unless after straining every nerve against it, to forfeit a portion of his birthright and a jewel of his crown? Was it for him, without the clearest case of necessity, to allow the rending asunder of his empire, the array for all time to come of several millions of hi people against the res To do his duty cor should answer it t

he concluded his reign, though not, as yet, his life.

George Washington, as might be expected, is a principal figure in the canvas of Lord Mahon. He was born in 1732. His great grandfather, John Washington, had settled in Virginia about eighty years before, and was descended from an old gentleman's family in England. There was a common descent between them and the Earls of Ferrers, whose ancient device appears on the seal of the American general. We have ourselves often heard the late Earl Ferrers, an eccentric and somewhat choleric old gentleman, who much frequented a West End club, as well as Howard's Coffee House, in the old House of Lords, take pride in claiming consanguinity with the great American. George Washington was the eldest son of his father's second marriage, and lost that father when only eleven years of age. His education was almost confined to geometry, trigonometry, and surveying. He never even commenced the study of the ancient classics, and derived no aid from any other than his native tongue. Jared Sparks informs us that when in the Revolutionary war the French officers came over, he bestowed some attention on their language, but at no time could write or converse in it, or translate any paper from the French, Engaging at nineteen in the Virginian Militia, Washington was appointed adjutant-general of one of the districts, with the rank of major, and the pay of 150l. a year. In his first campaign he was overpowered and compelled to capitulate by a party of French. But in this no blame attached to his conduct. Next year he was a witness of Braddock's disaster, but with honour to himself, for he had four bullets

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A country clergyman was the father, and a Norfolk vicarage the birthplace, of Edward Thurlow. He was educated at Caius College, Cambridge; but ere long was desired to remove his name from the books, on account of his having dared to int in public-what every one freely acknowledged in private-that Mr. Dean was ignorant of Greek. On leaving Cambridge thus abruptly, he entered a solicitor's office, where William Cowper was among his brother pupils. There, says the future poet, were I and the future Lord Chancellor, constantly employed from morning to night in giggling and making others giggle, instead of studyng the law. But Thurlow had one of those rare and powerful intellects which can make better use of minutes than common minds of hours. By short but vigorous snatches of study, he effectually explored the most hidden nooks and by-paths of the rugged land of Jurisprudence. He had been entered at the Inner Temple, and in 1754, being then twenty-two years of age, he was called to the bar. For several years did he languish without business. He first attracted notice by the spirit and success with which he maintained the rights of the junior bar against the arrogance of an overbearing leader, Sir Fletcher Norton. At the general election of 1768, he was returned for the borough of Tamworth; but his first speech was not delivered until the great political crisis of January, 1770. Almost immediately afterwards, Lord North becoming Prime Minister, and Dunning having resigned, Thurlow was appointed one of the law officers of the crown.

The principles of Thurlow, at least until his final fall from power, were those of the Brave old cavaliers-for Church and King. It must be owned, however, that his private life by no means eminently qualified him to stand forth as the champion of any church or creed. He was licentious in his morals, and though never married, he used, in his later years, to take about with him to the houses of his friends, three young ladies, his daughters. His conversation, even beyond his convivial bours, abounded with profane oaths. And as immorality thus dimmed and tarnished his Church principles, so did inconsistency his politics. There is no doubt, as I believe, that he was sincerely and truly attached to those high monar chical tenets which he professed; yet on one memorable occasion, in 1758, it was clear that he did not love them, or conscience and honour, so well as office; while four years later he showed that even office itself was not so dear to him as spleen, and the indulgence of his froward and resentful humour.

With all his faults and shortcomings, however, there was that in Thurlow which overawed and daunted his contemporaries, and of which the impres sion is not wholly lost even on posterity. It was a saying of Mr. Fox that no man ever yet was so wise as Thurlow looked, His countenance was fraught with sense; his aspect stately and commanding, his brow broad, massy, and armed with terrors like that of the Olympian Jove, to which indeed it was often compared. His voice, loud, sonorous, and as rolling thunder in the distance, augmenting the effect of his fierce and terrible invective.

Few, indeed, were they who did not quail before his frown; fewer still who would abide his onset in debate. Perhaps no modern English statesman, in the House of Lords at least, was ever so much dreaded. In parliament as at the bar, his speeches were homethrusts, conveying the strongest arguments or keenest reproofs in the plainest and clearest words. His enemies might accuse his style of being coarse, and sometimes even ungrammatical, but they could never deny its enegy or its effect.

In private life Thurlow was remarkable for his thorough knowledge of the Greek and Latin writers; and no less for his skill in arguments and brilliant powers of conversation. While yet at the bar, Dr. Johnson said of him to Boswell, I honour Thurlow, Sir; Thurlow is a fine fellow; he fairly puts his mind to yours.' And after he be came Chancellor, the same high authority added, 'I would prepare myself for no man in England but Lord Thurlow. When I am to meet him I should wish to know a day before.' Unless with ladies his manner was always uncouth, and his voice a constant growl. But beneath that rugged rind, there appears to have lurked much warmth of affection and kindliness of heart. Many acts of generous aid and unsolicited bounty are recorded of him.

Men of merit and learning seldom needed any other recommendation to his favour. Thus, on reading Horsley's Let ters to Dr. Priestly, he at once obtained for the author a stall at Gloucester, say.

ing (what I earnestly wish all other Chancellors had borne in mind) that those who supported the Church should be supported by it. Nevertheless his temper, even when in some measure sobered down by age, was always liable to violent and unreasonable starts of passion. It is related by a gentleman who dined with him at Brighton, only a few months before his death (for I must ever hold that great characters are best portrayed by little circumstances), that a plateful of peaches being brought in, the

ex-chancellor, incensed at their ill-appearance, ordered the window to be opened, and not only the peaches but the whole dessert to be thrown out. Apart from any such sallies or passing gusts of anger, strong shrewd sense was the especial characteristic of Lord Thurlow. As a judge he was acute, vigilant, and fearless; above all taint or suspicion of corruption. And on the whole of his career it may be said, that rising as he did from an humble station to the highest, he owed his rise solely to his own talents and exertions, and in no degree however slight to any suppleness or subserviency or mean compliances, either as a flatterer of the great, or as a demagogue among the people.

We have said that the sixth volume of Lord Mahon's work is chiefly taken up with the history of the American War. It concludes, however, with two admirable chapters, the one on Voyages of Discovery, the other on Literature and Art. In the chapter on Voyages of Discovery, Lord Mahon draws considerably from those Spanish authorities with whose works he is well known to be familiar. In the chapter on Literature and Art, we have charming sketches of the merits and defects of Hume and Robertson, of Gibbon, of Johnson, of Goldsmith, of Gray, and of Cowper; of Sir Joshua Reynolds, of Hogarth, of Ramsay, of Rumney, and of Gainsborough. In these remarks on literature and art, Lord Mahon shows that divine instinct of which Paul Warnefrid speaks as

commendably distinguishing those who had travelled to Rome.

We confess we rise from the perusal of the Grenville Correspondence, the Rockingham Memoirs, and the last three volumes of Lord Mahon, with a better opinion of George III. than we had previously entertained. His character appears more straightforward and single-his will more resolute and more decided-his good sense stronger, and his abilities far better than some Whig writers, whether historians or memoir writers like Lord John Russell, or Lord Holland, have ever allowed.

On the other hand, notwithstanding his wonderful genius, his splendid talents, and his matchless eloquence-notwithstanding the adoration of the people and the admiration of Europe, the elder Pitt appears, on nearer inspection, to be a man whose conduct was often determined by personal feelings. Sometimes he was gloomy and morose-sometimes insufferably dictatorial-sometimes affected-and always very much of an actor, though the greatest, indeed, the only great actor of his day or generation. For the elucidation of truth the publication of posthumous papers and memoirs have done much, but we are in a still greater degree indebted to Lord Mahon, who, having read and digested the evidence, has, in a most judicial summing up, pronounced the award of passionless and impartial history.

MAY!

FLOREAL.

The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose,-*

who will dispute her claims as queen of the months, sovereign in the realm of flowers? Even the wild French republicans of the old revolution, whose delight it was to annihilate titles and destroy diadems, even they left unharmed the flowery crown upon the brow of May, and preserved to her, in their new-fangled calendar, her long-acknowledged title of Floreal. It would have been a task beyond the destructive powers of even French revolutionists to uproot her long-fixed throne from the hearts of poets, painters, lovers, naturalists. May, the ancient, but ever young-May, that claims alike the honour due to age, and the admiration due to beauty, she has reigned from remote antiquity, yet returns to us every year, fresh in youth and loveliness. In her absence, she has been dwelling with Hebe, and bathing in her perennial fountain of rejuvenescence.

Ancient and universal has been the floreal homage paid to the floreal * Milton. Song on May Morning.

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