brought back to notice in the volume now before us; and Warburton is proved by his letters to have entered fully into all the paltry keenness of his correspondent, and to have indulged a feeling of the most rancorous hostility towards both these excellent and accomplished men. In one of his letters he says, "I will not tell you how much I am obliged to you for this correction of Leland. I have desired Colone Harvey to get it reprinted in Dublin, which I takut a proper return for Leland's favour in London." We hear nothing more, however, on this subject, after the publication of Dr. Leland's reply.

With regard to Jortin, again, he says, "Next to the pleasure of seeing myself so finely praised, is the satisfaction I take in seeing Jortin mortified. I know to what degree it will do it; and he deserves to be mortified. One thing I in good earnest resented for its baseness," &c. In another place, he talks of his " mean, low, and ungrateful conduct;" and adds, "Jortin is as vain as he is dirty, to imagine that I am obliged to him," &c. And, after a good deal more about his "mean, low envy," ," "the rancour of his heart," his "selfimportance," and other good qualities, he speaks in this way of his death—

ing, than the immediate prospect of this learned raan's death, who had once been his friend, that he gives vent to this liberal imputation.

“Had he had, I will not say piety, but greatness of mind enough not to suffer the pretended injuries of some churchmen to prejudice him against reli gion, I should love him living, and honour his memory when dead. But, good God! that man, for the discourtesies done him by his miserable fellow-creatures, should be content to divest hin the asylum, &c. &c. is perfectly astonishing. I self of the true viaticum, the comfort, the solace, believe no one (all things considered) has suffered more from the low and vile passions of the high and low amongst our brethren than myself. Yet, God forbid, &c.”—pp. 40, 41.

When divines of the Church of England are spoken of in this manner, it may be sup posed that Dissenters and Laymen do not meet with any better treatment. Priestley, accordingly, is called "a wretched fellow;" and Dr. Samuel Johnson, who, in spite of considerable temptations to the contrary, had spoken with great respect of him, both in his preface to Shakespeare and in his notes, is thus rewarded by the meek and modest ecclesiastic for his forbearance.

"The remarks he makes in every page on my "I see by the papers that Jortin is dead. His commentaries, are full of insolence and malignant overrating his abilities, and the public's underra- reflections, which, had they not in them as much ting them, made so gloomy a temper eat, as the an- folly as malignity, I should have had reason to be cients expressed it, his own heart. If his death dis offended with. As it is, I think myself obliged to tresses his own family, I shall be heartily sorry for him in thus setting before the public so many of this accident of mortality. If not, there is no loss-my notes with his remarks upon them; for, though even to himself!"-p. 340.

I have no great opinion of that trifling part of the public, which pretends to judge of this part of That the reader may judge how far con- literature, in which boys and girls decide, yet 1 troversial rancour has here distorted the fea- think nobody can be mistaken in this comparison; tures of an adversary, we add part of an though I think their thoughts have never yet ex admirable character of Dr. Jortin, drawn by tended thus far as to reflect, that to discover the ne who had good occasion to know him, as gacity to restore it to sense, is no easy task: But corruption in an author's text, and by a happy sa appeared in a work in which keenness, when the discovery is made, then to cavil at the zandour, and erudition are very singularly conjecture, to propose an equivalent, and defend lended. "He had a heart which never dis-nonsense, by producing, out of the thick darkness aced the powers of his understanding. it occasions, a weak and faint glimmering of sense With a lively imagination and an elegant (which has been the business of this Editor throughtaste, he united the artless and amiable negli-out) is the easiest, as well as dullest of all Eterary efforts."-pp. 272, 273. gence of a schoolboy. Wit without ill-nature, and sense without effort, he could, at will, catter on every subject; and, in every book, e writer presents us with a near and distinot view of the man. He had too much discernment to confound difference of opinion with malignity or dulness; and too much candour to insult, where he could not persuade. He carried with him into every subject which he explored, a solid greatness of soul, which could spare an inferior, though in the offensive form of an adversary, and endure an equal, with or without the sacred name of a friend."*

Dr. Middleton, too, had happened to differ from some of Warburton's opinions on the rigin of Popish ceremonies; and accordingly he is very charitably represented as having renounced his religion in a pet, on account of the discourtesy of his brethren in the church. It is on an occasion no less serious and touch

It is irksome transcribing more of these insolent and vindictive personalities; and we believe we have already extracted enough, to satisfy our readers as to the probable effect of this publication, in giving the world a just impression of the amiable, playful, and af fectionate character of this learned prelate. It is scarcely necessary, for this purpose, t refer to any of his pathetic lamentations over his own age, as a "barbarous age," an "im pious age," and "a dark age,"-—to quote L murmurs at the ingratitude with which own labours had been rewarded,—or, to do more than transcribe his sage and mag. nanimous resolution, in the year 1768, to be gin to live for himself-having already live for others longer than they had deserved of him." This worthy and philanthropic person had by this time preached and written him self into a bishopric and a fine estate; and, at the same time, indulged himself in every sort of violence and scurrility against those from whose opinions he dissented. In these

indea'

circumstances, ve really are not aware either | ready to run back naked to the deserts, as on the

how he could have lived more for himself, or less for others, than he had been all along doing. But we leave now the painful task of commenting upon this book, as a memorial of his character; and gladly turn to those parts of it, from which our readers may derive more unmingled amusement.

The wit which it contains is generally strong and coarse, with a certain mixture of profanity which does not always seem to consort well with the episcopal character. There are some allusions to the Lady of Babylon, which we dare not quote in our Presbyterian pages. The reader, however, may take the following:"Poor Job! It was his eternal fate to be persecuted by his friends. His three comforters passed sentence of condemnation upon him; and he has been executing in effigie ever since. He was first bound to the stake by a long catena of Greek Fathers; then tortured by Pineda! then strangled y Caryl; and afterwards cut up by Westley, and anatomised by Garnet. Pray don't reckon me amongst his hangmen. I only acted the tender part of his wife, and was for making short work with him! But he was ordained, I think, by a fate like that of Prometheus, to lie still upon his dunghill, and have his brains sucked out by owls. One Hodges, a head of Oxford, now threatens us with a new Auto de Fe."-p. 22.

We have already quoted one assimilation of the Church to the Ark of Noah. This idea is pursued in the following passage, which is perfectly characteristic of the force, the vulgarity, and the mannerism of Warburton's writing:

Mediterranean coast of Africa. These, tell him, the citizen of the world, to contemplate. The are the grand scenes for the true philosopher, for Tour of Europe is like the entertainment that Plu tarch speaks of, which Pompey's host of Epirus gave him. There were many dishes, and they had a seeming variety; but when he came to examine them narrowly, he found them all made out of one hog, and indeed nothing but pork differently disguised.

"Indeed I perfectly agree with you, that a scholar by profession, who knows how to employ his time in his study, for the benefit of mankind, would be more than fantastical, he would be mad, to go ram. bling round Europe, though his fortune would permit him. For to travel with profit, must be when his faculties are at the height, his studies matured, But tc and all his reading fresh in his head. waste a considerable space of time, at such a period of life, is worse than suicide. Yet, for all this, the knowledge of human nature (the only knowledge, in the largest sense of it, worth a wise man's concern or care) can never be well acquired without seeing it under all its disguises and distortions, ari. sing from absurd governments and monstrous religions, in every quarter of the globe. Therefore, I think a collection of the best voyages no despicable part of a philosopher's library. Perhaps there will. be found more dross in this sort of literature, ever when selected most carefully, than in any other. But no matter for that; such a collection will contain a great and solid treasure."—pp. 111, 112.

These, we think, are favourable specimens of wit, and of power of writing. The bad jokes, however, rather preponderate. There is one brought in, with much formality, about his suspicions of the dunces having stolen the lead off the roof of his coachhouse; and two or three absurd little anecdotes, which seem to have no pretensions to pleasantry—but that they are narratives, and have no serious meaning.

To pass from wit, however, to more serious matters, we find, in this volume, some very striking proofs of the extent and diligence of this author's miscellaneous reading, particularly in the lists and characters of the authors to whom he refers his friend as authorities for a history of the English constitution. In this part of his dialogues, indeed, it appears that Hurd has derived the whole of his learn

"You mention Noah's Ark. I have really forgot what I said of it. But I suppose I compared the Church to it, as many a grave divine has done before me.-The rabbins make the giant Gog or Magog contemporary with Noah, and convinced by his preaching; so that he was disposed to take the benefit of the ark. But here lay the distress; it by no means suited his dimensions. Therefore, as he could not enter in, he contented himself to ride upon it astride. And though you must suppose that, in that stormy weather, he was more than half-boots over, he kept his seat and dismounted safely, when the ark landed on Mount Ararat.Image now to yourself this illustrious Cavalier mounted on his hackney: and see if it does not bringing, and most of his opinions, from Warburton. before you the Church, bestrid by some lumpish minister of state, who turns and winds it at his pleasure. The only difference is, that Gog believed the preacher of righteousness and religion." pp. 87, 88.

This is enough for any one who only wants to study men for his use. But if our aspiring friend would go higher, and study human nature, in ori for itself, he must take a much larger tour than that of Europe. He must first go and catch her n dressed, nay, quite naked, in North America, and at the Cape of Good Hope. He may then examine how she appears cramped, contracted, and buttoned close up in the straight tunic of law and custom, as in China and Japan; or spread out, and enlarged above her common size, in the long and flowing robe of enthusiasm amongst the Arabs and Saraens; or, lastly, as she flutters in the old rags of worn-out policy and civil government, and almost

The following remarks on the continuation of
Clarendon's History are good and liberal:—

"Besides that business, and age, and misfortunes had perhaps sunk his spirit, the Continuation is not so properly the history of the first six years of Charles the Second, as an anxious apology for the share himself had in the administration. This has hurt the composition in several respects. Amongst others, he could not, with decency, allow his pen that scope in his delineation of the chief characters of the court, who were all his personal enemies, as he had done in that of the enemies to the King and monarchy in the grand rebellion. The endeavour to keep up a show of candour, and especially to prevent the appearance of a rancorous resentment, has deadened his colouring very much, besides that it made him sparing in the use of it; else, his inimitable pencil had attempted, at least, to do justice to Bennet, to Berkley, to Coventry, to the nightly cabal of facetious memory, to the Lady, and, if his excessive loyalty had not intervened, to his infamous master himself. With all this, I am apt to think there may still be something in what I said of the nature of the subject. Exquisite virtue anc

enormous vice afford a fine field for the historian's | memory, we think it our duty to lay one o genius. And hence Livy and Tacitus are, in their them at least before our readers. Warburton way, perhaps equally entertaining. But the little had slipped in his garden, and hurt his arm intrigues of a selfish court, about carrying, or defeating this or that measure, about displacing this whereupon thus inditeth the obsequious Dr and bringing in that minister, which interest nobody very much but the parties concerned, can hardly be made very striking by any ability of the relator. If Cardinal de Retz has succeeded, his scene was busier, and of a another nature from that of Lord Clarendon."-p. 217.

Mrs. Warburton's last letter was a cordial to His account of Tillotson seems also to be me; and, as the ceasing of intense pain, so the fair and judicious. abatement of the fears I have been tormented with for three or four days past, gives a certain alacrity to my spirits, of which your Lordship may look to feel the effects, in a long letter!

(November, 1811.)

Memoirs of the Political and Private Life of James Caulfield, Earl of Charlemont, Knight of St. Patrick, &c. &c. By FRANCIS HARDY, Esq., Member of the House of Commons in the three last Parliaments of Ireland. 4to. pp. 426. London: 1810.*

THIS is the life of a Gentleman, written by ■ Gentleman,—and, considering the tenor of many of our late biographies, this of itself is no slight recommendation. But it is, moreover, the life of one who stood foremost in the political history of Ireland for fifty years preceding her Union, that is, for the whole period during which Ireland had a history or politics of her own-written by one who was a witness and a sharer in the scene, a man of fair talents and liberal views, and distinguished, beyond all writers on recent politics that we have yet met with, for the handsome and indulgent terms in which he speaks of his political opponents. The work is enlivened, too, with various anecdotes and fragments of the correspondence of persons eminent for talents, learning, and political services in both countries; and with a great number of characters, sketched with a very powerful, though somewhat too favourable hand, of almost all who distinguished themselves, during this momentous period, on the scene of Irish affairs. From what we have now said, the reader will conclude that we think very favourably of this book: And we do think it both entertaining and instructive. But (for there is always a but in a Reviewer's praises) it has also its faults and imperfections; and these, alas! so great and so many, that it requires all the good nature we can catch by sympathy from the author, not to treat him now and then with a terrible and exemplary severity. He seems, in the first place, to have begun and ended his book, without ever forming an idea of the distinction between private and public history; and sometimes tells us stories about Lord Charlemont, and about people who were merely among his accidental acquaintance, far too long to find a place even in a biographical memoir;-and sometimes enlarges upon matters of general history, with which Lord Charlemont has no other connection, than that they happened during his life, with a minuteness which would not be tolerated in a professed annalist. The biography again is broken, not only by large patches of historical matter, but by miscellaneous reflections, and anecdotes of all manner of persons; while, in the historical part, he successively makes the most unreasonable presumptions on the reader's knowledge, his ignorance, and his curiosity, overlaying him, at one time,

I reprint only those parts of this paper which relate to the personal history of Lord Charlemont, end some of his contemporaries :-with the excep. tion of one brief reference to the revolution of 1782, which I retain chiefly to introduce a remarkable letter of Mr. Fox's on the formation and principles of the new government, of that

year.

with anxious and uninteresting details, and, at another, omitting even such general and summary notices of the progress of events as are necessary to connect his occasional narratives and reflections.

The most conspicuous and extraordinary of his irregularities, however, is that of his style;-which touches upon all the extremes of composition, almost in every page, or every paragraph;—or rather, is entirely made up of those extremes, without ever resting for an instant in a medium, or affording any pause for softening the effects of its contrasts and transitions. Sometimes, and indeed most frequently, it is familiar, loose, and colloquial, beyond the common pitch of serious conver sation; at other times by far too figurative, rhetorical, and ambitious, for the sober tone of history. The whole work indeed bears more resemblance to the animated and versatile talk of a man of generous feelings and excitable imagination, than the mature production of an author who had diligently corrected his manuscript for the press, with the fear of the public before his eyes. There is a spirit about the work, however,-independent of the spirit of candour and indulgence of which we have already spoken,-which redeems many of its faults; and, looking upon it in the light of a memoir by an intelligent contemporary, rather than a regular history or profound dissertation, we think that its value will not be injured by a comparison with any work of this description that has been recently offered to the public.

The part of the work which relates to Lord Charlemont individually, - though by no means the least interesting, at least in its adjuncts and digressions,-may be digested into a short summary. He was born in Ireland in 1728; and received a private education, under a succession of preceptors, of various merit and assiduity. In 1746 he went abroad, without having been either at a public school or an university; and yet appears to have been earlier distinguished, both for scholarship and polite manners, than most of the ingenuous youths that are turned out by these celebrated seminaries. He remained on the Continent no less than nine years; in the course of which, he extended his travels to Greece, Turkey, and Egypt; and formed an intimate and friendly acquaintance with the celebrated David Hume, whom he met both at Turin and Paris-the President Montesquieu-the Marchese Maffei--Cardinal Albani -Lord Rockingham-the Duc de Nivernoisand various other eminent persons. He had rather a dislike to the French national character; though he admired their literature, and the general politeness of their manners.

In 1755 he returned to his native country, at the age of twenty-eight; an object of interest and respect to all parties, and to all individuals of consequence in the kingdom. His intimacy with Lord John Cavendish naturally disposed him to be on a good footing with his brother, who was then Lord Lieutenant; and "the outset of his politics," as he has himself observed, "gave reason to suppose that his life would be much more courtly than it proved to be." The first scene of profligacy and court intrigue, however, which he witnessed, determined him to act a more manly part "to be a Freeman," as Mr. Hardy says, "in the purest sense of the word, opposing the court or the people indiscriminately, whenever he saw them adopting erroneous or mischievous opinions." To this resolution, his biographer adds, that he had the virtue and firmness to adhere; and the consequence was, that he was uniformly in opposition to the court for the long remainder of his life!

which his youth had been delighted, and those patriotic duties to which he had devoted his middle age. The sittings of the Irish Academy, over which he presided from its first foundation, were frequently held at Charlemont House; and he always extended the most munificent patronage to the professors of art, and the kindest indulgence to youthfu! talents of every description. His health had declined gradually from about the year 1790; and he died in August 1799,-esteemed and regretted by all who had had any opportunity of knowing him, in public or in private, as a friend or as an opponent.-Such is the sure reward of honourable sentiments, and mid and steady principles!

To this branch of the history belongs a considerable part of the anecdotes and characters with which the book is enlivened; and, in a particular manner, those which Mr. Hardy has given, in Lord Charlemont's own words, from the private papers and memoirs which have been put into his hands. His Lordship appears to have kept a sort of journal of every thing interesting that befel him through life, and especially during his long residence on the Continent. From this document Mr. Har dy has made copious extracts, in the earlier part of his narrative; and the general style of them is undoubtedly very creditable to the noble author,—a little tedious, perhaps, now and then,-and generally a little too studiously and maturely composed, for the private me moranda of a young man of talents;-but always in the style and tone of a gentleman, and with a character of rationality, and calm indulgent benevolence, that is infinitely more pleasing than sallies of sarcastic wit, or periods of cold-blooded speculation.

Though very regular in his attendance on the Irish Parliament, he always had a house in London, where he passed a good part of the winter, till 1773; when feelings of patriotism and duty induced him to transfer his residence almost entirely to Ireland. The polish of his manners, however, and the kindness of his disposition, his taste for literature and the arts, and the unsuspected purity and firmness of his political principles, had before this time secured him the friendship of almost all the distinguished men who adorned England at this period. With Mr. Fox, Mrs. Burke, and Mr. Beauclerk — Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Johnson, Sir William Chalmers-and many others of a similar character-he was always particularly intimate. During the Lieutenancy of the Earl of Northumberland, in 1772, One of the first characters that appears on he was, without any solicitation, advanced to the scene, is our excellent countryman, the the dignity of an Earl; and was very much celebrated David Hume, whom Lord Charle distinguished and consulted during the short mont first met with at Turin, in the year 1750: period of the Rockingham administration;--and of whom he has given an account rather though neither at that time, nor at any other, more entertaining, we believe, than accurate. invested with any official situation. In 1768, We have no doubt, however, that it records he married; and in 1780, he was chosen Gene- with perfect fidelity the impression which he ral of the Irish Volunteers, and conducted him- then received from the appearance and conself in that delicate and most important com-versation of that distinguished philosopher. mand, with a degree of temper and judgment, liberality and firmness, which we have no doubt contributed, more than any thing else, both to the efficacy and the safety of that most perilous but necessary experiment. The rest of his history is soon told. He was the early patron and the constant friend of Mr. Grattan; and was the means of introducing the Single-Speech Hamilton to the acquaintance of Mr. Burke. Though very early disposed to relieve the Catholics from a part of their disabilities, he certainly was doubtful of the pru-unlike his real character than David Hume. The Nature, I believe, never formed any man more dence, or propriety, of their more recent pretensions. He was from first to last a zealous, powers of physiognomy were baffled by his counte nance; nor could the most skilful in that science, active, and temperate advocate for parlia- pretend to discover the smallest trace of the facul mentary reform. He was averse to the Legis-ties of his mind, in the unmeaning features of his lative Union with Great Britain. He was uniformly steady to his principles, and faithful to his friends; and seems to have divided the latter part of his life pretty equally between those elegant studies of literature and art by

But, with all our respect for Lord Charlemont, we cannot allow a young Irish Lord, on his first visit at a foreign court, to have been pre cisely the person most capable of appreciating the value of such a man as David Hume;and though there is a great fund of truth in the following observations, we think they il lustrate the character and condition of the person who makes them, fully as much as that of him to whom they are applied.

visage. His face was broad and fat, his mouh wide, and without any other expression than that of imbecility. His eyes, vacant and spiritless; and fitted to communicate the idea of a turtle-eating al the corpulence of his whole person was far better derman, than of a refined philosopher. His speech.