Notwithstanding the diffipation of his youth, and the tumultuous agitation of his middle age, he had an infinite fund of various and almoft univerfal knowledge, which, from the clearest and quickest conception, and the happiest memory that ever man was bleft with, he always carried about him. It was his pocket-money, and he never had occafion to draw upon a book for any fum. He excelled more particularly in hiftory, as his hiftorical works plainly prove. The relative, political, and commercial interests of every country in Europe, particularly of his own, were better known to him than perhaps to any man in it; but how fteadily he purfued the latter in his public conduct, his enemies of all parties and denominations tell with pleafure.

During his long exile in France, he applied himself to ftudy with his characteristical ardour; and there he formed, and chiefly executed, the plan of his great philofophical work. The common bounds of human knowledge were too narrow for his warm and afpiring imagination; he must go extra flammantia mania mundi, and explore the unknown and unknowable regions of metaphyfics, which open an unbounded field for the excurfions of an ardent imagination; where endless conjectures fupply the defect of unattainable know. ledge, and too often ufurp both its name and its influence.

He had a very handfome perfon, with a moft engaging addrefs in his air and manners; he had all the dignity and good-breeding which a man of quality fhould or can have, and which fo few, in this country at least, really have.

He profeffed himself a deift, believing in a general Providence, but doubting of, though by no means rejecting, (as is commonly fuppofed) the immortality of the foul, and a future ftate.

He died of a cruel and fhocking diftemper, a cancer in his face, which he endured with firmnefs. A week before he died, I took my last leave of him with grief; and he returned me his last farewell with tenderness, and faid, "God, who placed me here, will

do what he pleafes with me here. after ; and he knows best what to do. "May he bless you!"

Upon the whole of this extraordinary character, what can we fay, but, alas! poor human nature! Chesterfield.

$65. Character of Mr. PULTENEY.

Mr. Pulteney was formed by nature for focial and convivial pleafures. Refentment made him engage in bufinefs. He had thought himself flighted by Sir Robert Walpole, to whom he publicly avowed not only revenge, but atter deftruction. He had lively and fhining parts, a furprising quickness of wit, and a happy turn to the most amusing and entertaining kinds of poetry, as epigrams, ballads, odes, &c.; in all which he had an uncommon facility. His compofitions in that way were fome times fatirical, often licentious, but always full of wit.

He had a quick and clear conception of bufinefs; could equally detect and practife fophiftry. He could state and explain the most intricate matters, even in figures, with the utmost perfpicuity. His parts were rather above business; and the warmth of his imagination, joined to the impetuofity and reftleffness of his temper, made him incapable of conducting it long together with prudence and steadiness.

He was a most complete orator and debater in the houfe of commons; eloquent, entertaining, perfuafive, strong, and pathetic, as occafion required; for he had arguments, wit, and tears, at his command. His breaft was the feat of all thofe paffions which degrade our nature, and disturb our reafon. There they raged in perpetual conflict; but avarice, the meaneft of them all, generally triumphed, ruled abfolutely, and, in many inftances, which I forbear to mention, moft fcandaloufly.

His fudden paffion was outrageous, but fupported by great perfonal courage, Nothing exceeded his ambition, but his avarice: they often accompany, and are frequently and reciprocally the caufes and the effects of each other; but the latter is always a clog upon the former. He affected good-nature and compaffion, and perhaps his heart might

Chesterfield.

§ 66. Character of Sir ROBERT WAL

He was once in the greatest point of view that ever I faw any fubject in. When the oppofition, of which he was the leader in the houfe of commons, prevailed at laft against Sir Robert Walpole, he became the arbiter between the crown and the people; the former imploring his protection, the latter his fupport. In that critical moment his various jarring paffions were in the highest ferment, and for a while fuf pended his ruling one. Senfe of fhame made him hefitate at turning courtier on a fudden, after having acted the patriot fo long, and with fo much applaufe; and his pride made him declare, that he would accept of no place; vainly imagining, that he could, by fuch a fimulated and temporary felf. denial, preferve his popularity with the public, and his power at court. was mistaken in both. The king hated him almost as much for what he might

He

e;

have done, as for what he had done and a motley miniftry was formed, which by no means defired his company. The nation looked upon him as a deferter, and ne fhrunk into infignificancy and an earldom.

He made feveral attempts afterwards to retrieve the opportunity he had loft, but in vain; his fituation would not allow it. He was fixed in the house of lords, that hofpital of incurables; and his retreat to popularity was cut off: for the confidence of the public, when once great, and once loft, is never to be regained. He lived afterwards in retirement, with the wretched comfort of

Horace's mifer:

Populus me fibilat, &c.

I may, perhaps, be fufpected to have given too strong colouring to fome features of this portrait; but I folemnly proteft, that I have drawn it confcientiously, and to the best of my knowledge, from a very long acquaintance with, and obfervation of, the original. Nay,

POLE.

I much question whether an impartial character of Sir Robert Walpole will or can be tranfmitted to pofterity; for he governed this kingdom fo long, that gled, and in a manner incorporated the various paffions of mankind minthemfelves, with every thing that was faid or written concerning him. Never was man more flattered, nor more a bufed; and his long power was probably the chief caufe of both. I was much acquainted with him, both in his public and his private life. I mean to do impartial juftice to his character; and therefore my picture of him will, perhaps, be more like him than it will be like any of the other pictures drawn of him.

In private life he was good-natured, chearful, focial; inelegant in his manners, loofe in his morals. He had a coarfe, ftrong wit, which he was too free of for a man in his ftation, as it is always inconfiftent with dignity. He was very able as a minister, but without a certain elevation of mind, neceffary for great good or great mifchief. Profufe and appetent, his ambition was fubfervient to his defire of making a great fortune. He had more of the Mazarin

than of the Richelieu. He would do mean doing great ones for glory. things for profit, and never thought of

He was both the best parliamentman, and the ableft manager of parliament, that, I believe, ever lived. An artful, rather than an eloquent speaktion of the houfe, and preffed or reer; he saw, as by intuition, the difpoficeded accordingly. So clear in ftating the most intricate matters, especially in the finances, that, whilst he was fpeaking, the most ignorant thought that they understood what they really did not. Money, not prerogative, was the chief engine of his administration; and he employed it with a fuccefs which in a manner difgraced humanity. He was not, it is true, the inventor of that fhameful method of governing, which

He had a gentleman-like frankness in his behaviour, and as great point of honour as a minister can have, efpecially a minifter at the head of the treafury, where numberless sturdy and infatiable beggars of condition apply, who cannot all be gratified, nor all with fafety be refused.

He was a very inelegant fpeaker in parliament, but fpoke with a certain candour and openness that made him be well heard, and generally believed.

He wished well to the public, and managed the finances with great care and perfonal purity. He was par nego tiis neque fupra: had many domestic virtues and no vices. If his place, and the power that accompanies it, made him fome public enemies, his behaviour in both fecured him from perfonal and rancorous ones. Those who wished him worst, only wished themselves in his place.

Upon the whole, he was an honourable man, and a well-wishing minifter. Chesterfield. $69. Character of RICHARD Earl of

SCARBOROUGH.

In drawing the character of Lord Scarborough, I will be ftrictly upon my guard against the partiality of that intimate and unreferved friendship, in which we lived for more than twenty years; to which friendship, as well as to the public notoriety of it, I owe much more than my pride will let my gratitude own. If this may be fufpected to have biaffed my judgment, it muft, at the fame time, be allowed to have in formed it; for the moft fecret move. ments of his foul were, without difguife, communicated to me only. However, I will rather lower than heighten the colouring; I will mark the thades, and draw a credible rather than an exact likeness.

He had a very good perfon, rather above the middle fize; a handfome face, and when he was chearful, the most engaging countenance imaginable; when grave, which he was ofteneft, the moft refpectable one. He had in the highest degree the air, manners, and addrefs, of a man of quality; politenefs with eafe, and dignity without pride,

Bred in camps and courts, it cannot be fuppofed that he was untainted with the fashionable vices of thefe warm climates; but (if I may be allowed the expreffion) he dignified them, instead of their degrading him into any mean or indecent action. He had a good degree of claffical, and a great one of modern, knowledge; with a just, and, at the fame time, a delicate tafte.

In his common expences he was liberal within bounds; but in his charities and bounties he had none. I have known them put him to fome prefent inconveniencies.

He

He was a ftrong, but not an eloquent or florid fpeaker in parliament. fpoke fo unaffectedly the honeft dictates. of his heart, that truth and virtue, which never want, and feldom wear, orpaments, feemed only to borrow his voice. This gave fuch an astonishing weight to all he faid, that he more than once carried an unwilling majority after him. Such is the authority of unfufpected virtue, that it will fometimes hame vice into decency at least.

He was not only offered, but preffed to accept, the poft of fecretary of state; but he conftantly refufed it. I once tried to perfuade him to accept it; but he told me, that both the natural warmth and melancholy of his temper made him unfit for it; and that moreover he knew very well that, in those minifterial employments, the course of bufinefs made it neceffary to do many hard things, and fome unjuftones, which could only be authorized by the jefuitical cafuiftry of the direction of the intention: a doctrine which he faid he could not poffibly adopt. Whether he was the first that ever made that objection, I cannot affirm; but I fufpect that he will be the laft.

He was a true conftitutional, and yet practicable patriot; a fincere lover, and a zealous afferter, of the natural, the civil, and the religious rights of his country: but he would not quarrel with the crown, for fome flight ftretches of the prerogative; nor with the people, for fome unwary ebullitions of liberty; nor with any one for a difference of opinion in fpeculative points. He confidered the conflitution in the aggregate,

and

and only watched that no one part of it fhould preponderate too much.

His moral character was so pure, that if one may fay of that imperfect creature man, what a celebrated hiftorian fays of Scipio, nil non laudandum aut dixit, aut fecit, aut fenfit; I fincerely think (I had almost faid I know), one might fay it with great truth of him, one fingle inftance excepted, which shall be mentioned.

He joined to the nobleft and ftricteft principles of honour and generofity, the tendereft fentiments of benevolence and compaffion; and, as he was naturally warm, he could not even hear of an injuftice or a bafenefs, without a fudden indignation; nor of the misfortunes or miferies of a fellow creature, without melting into foftnefs, and endeavouring to relieve them. This part of his character was fo univerfally known, that our best and most fatirical English poet fays,

When I confefs, there is who feels for fame, And melts to goodness, need I Scarborough name?

He had not the leaft pride of birth and rank, that common narrow notion of little minds, that wretched mistaken fuccedaneum of merit; but he was jealous to anxiety of his character, as all men are who deferve a good one. And fuch was his diffidence upon that fubject, that he never could be perfuaded that mankind really thought of him as they did; for furely never man had a higher reputation, and never man enjoyed a more univerfal esteem. Even knaves refpected him; and fools thought they loved him. If he had any enemies (for I proteft I never knew one), they could only be fuch as were weary of always hearing of Ariftides the Juft.

He was too fubject to fudden gufts of paffion, but they never hurried him into any illiberal or indecent expreffion or action; fo invincibly habitual to him were good-nature and good-manners. But, if ever any word happened to fall from him in warmth, which upon fubfequent reflection he himself thought too strong, he was never eafy till he had made more than a fufficient atonement for it...

He had a most unfortunate, I will call. it a most fatal kind of melancholy in his nature, which often made him both abfent and filent in company, but never morofe or four. At other times he was a chearful and agreeable companion; but, confcious that he was not always fo, he avoided company too much, and was too often alone, giving way to a train of gloomy reflections.

His conftitution, which was never robutt, broke rapidly at the latter end of his life. He had two fevere strokes of apoplexy or palfy, which confiderably affected his body and his mind.

I defire that this may not be looked upon as a full and finished character, writ for the fake of writing it; but as my folemn depofit of the truth to the beft of my knowledge. I owed this fmall depofit of juftice, fuch as it is, to the memory of the best man I ever knew, and of the dearest friend I ever had. Chefterfield.

$70. Character of Lord HARDWICKE.

Lord Hardwicke was, perhaps, the greateft magiftrate that this country ever had. He prefided in the court of Chancery above twenty years, and in all that time none of his decrees were reverfed, nor the juftnefs of them ever queftioned. Though avarice was his ruling paffion, he was never in the leaft fufpected of any kind of corruption: a rare and meritorious inftance of virtue and felf-denial, under the influence of fuch a craving, insatiable, and increas ing paffion.

He had great and clear parts; underftood, loved, and cultivated, the belles lettres. He was an agreeable, eloquent fpeaker in parliament, but not without fome little tincture of the pleader.

Men are apt to mistake, or at least to feem to mistake, their own talents, in hopes, perhaps, of misleading others. to allow them that which they are confcious they do not poffefs. Thus Lord Hardwicke valued himself more upon being a great minister of ftate, which he certainly was not, than upon being a great magiftrate, which he certainly

was.

All his notions were clear, but none of them great. Good order and do