is best able to judge. I shall only beg leave to repeat again to your Lordship what I have formerly said, that the King may have every thing done here which he has a mind to; and it is much more easy to do things quietly than in a storm," &c. In his progress through the country, Tyrconnel, too loose of soul to repress his feelings, everywhere threw out hints of what he would do on his return to London-the new Chancellor, Sir Charles Porter, had given offence, and must be removed, and the Lord Lieutenant himself must follow. After committing endless extravagances, in the autumn he quitted Ireland; and from that period till the end of the year, when he received his dismissal, poor Clarendon was perpetually harassed with complaints on the part of the English, and insolence on that of the triumphant Catholics, and reports from home of dissatisfactions and changes. Content, though exerting every nerve to give it, had never been expressed either by the King or Sunderland; and at last came a letter from his brother with, as Clarendon expresses it, the terrible news of the King's displeasure. "The wrath of a King," he replies to his brother," is unsupportable, and I am sure must crush me to nothing, who am next to nothing already, and must be altogether so without his support. But, good God! what can I say, if the King thinks the particulars with which I am charged, faults of that magnitude, that they are never to be forgiven ?" This displeasure arose wholly from Tyrconnel's intemperate representations, that Clarendon had confirmed the choice of several corporations, objected to by Tyrconnel, after Tyrconnel's departure,-that he had allowed some of the troopers, when discharged, to take their (own) arms with them,— that, though he consented to certain changes, every body saw by his looks he did not approve,-that though his Majesty had directed Catholics to be received into the Dublin corporation, he had given no account of these commands, and other corporations were backward in consequence, &c. The truth of these charges Clarendon solemnly denied, and produced evidence to substantiate the denial; but all in vain, Tyrconnel was at hand, and had possession of the King's ear; and besides, Clarendon, though ready enough to promote the King's views generally, refused personally, as well as Rochester, his brother, to turn Catholic. All merits were cancelled by this mighty offence;-Giffard, Bishop of Madura, and President of Magdalen, had laboured in vain-Rochester had resisted both Giffard and the King. At length all was ripe, and Clarendon was superseded by the exulting Tyrconnel. From first to last, the correspondence of this period is of the highest interest. James, and Sunderland, and Tyrconnel, are represented to the life. The conversations of the latter are highly dramatic, and bear indelible marks of truth about them. We must cast a glance over Clarendon's Diary. The years 1688 and 9, are complete, and constitute the most interesting as well as the largest portion of it. The main circumstances are Clarendon's own litigation with the Queen Dowager-the birth of the young Prince, (the Pretender)-the committal and trial of the Bishops, and the invasion of William. The capital topic is the Revolution. On the 15th of November he learnt, to his amazement and discomfiture, that his son had gone over to the Prince of Orange with the three regiments under his command-“ O God!” he exclaims, "that my son should be a rebel! The Lord in his mercy look upon me, and enable me to support myself under this most grievous calamity!" On the 28th, writs were at length issued for the assembling of the Parliaments, and within a day or two he expressed his resolution to go to Sarum, apparently to secure this rebel son's election-and so, he says, to the Prince, who was still in that neighbourhood. At Hindon he met his offending son, and was introduced to the Prince in the room where he dined. At Hungerford, the 'Lords and Gentlemen,' with the Prince, were desired by him to meet and prepare an answer to the paper which the King's commissioners had given him. Clarendon joined them, and a warm debate followed; many, (according to Clarendon's opinion, because they had reason to fear they should not themselves get into the House of Commons,) urging the superseding of the writs for summoning a Parliament, which was finally resolved. 6 "During this debate Lord Abingdon, sitting by me, told me, You see now, my Lord, I had reason for what I told at Sarum, that no good was intended. Here are people with the Prince will bring all into confusion if they can.' The answer being thus finished, the meeting broke up. My Lord Churchill, Sir Henry Capell, Mr. Jepson, and myself, went to Littlecott to acquaint the Prince with what was done : Mr. Jepson read the draught of the answer to him. The Prince presently said, he did not like the clause for superseding the writs for the Parliament. Sir Henry Capell endeavoured to support it by the best arguments he could use: I said, I was in my judgment for the meeting of the Parliament; and I had heard nothing in the debate to convince me of the contrary. Mr. Jepson was against the superseding clause Lord Churchill said very little. The Prince then said, he would have that clause put out. Sir Henry Capell desired he would first speak with some of the other gentlemen, and hear their reasons: upon which the Prince replied to this effect- By your favour, Sir Harry: we may drive away the King; but, perhaps, we may not know how easily to come by a Parliament.' And so the clause for superseding the writs was ordered to be struck out." William saw he was more likely to get the crown by a vote of Parliament, and that was manifestly the smoothest course. Clarendon still kept up his own delusions. Jan. 12. "I went to visit Monsieur Dykevelt, which I had attempted twice before since his arrival here, but found him not till now. He talked very freely to me of the public affairs, and told me he was sure the Prince came over full of intentions to show great kindness to me, and he was sure I might have any employment I had a mind to, as soon as the Prince was a little settled. This I thought was a strange language, and confirmed me in the opinion I had of what was aimed at.' On the 6th of Feb. a vote passed for declaring the Prince and Princess King and Queen : "I chanced to sit by the Earl of Thanet; and, as we were going out, I asked him how he came to leave us in this last vote; for he had gone all along with us in every vote: he is a man of great worth. He told me he was of our mind, and thought we had done ill in admitting the monarchy to be elective; for so this vote had made it but he thought there was an absolute necessity of having a Government; and he did not see it likely to be any other way than this. The Earl of Huntingdon and Mulgrave had all along voted against the King. The Bishop of Ely went to supper with me: we had not eaten all day. I think this was the most dismal day I ever saw in my life. God help us we are certainly a miserable, undone people." "Feb. 11. The new frame of Government went on smoothly, and was almost perfected; so that I resolved to go no more to the House of Lords, as things now stood." For the papers of the younger brother, the Earl of Rochester, probably the abler man, and certainly the more politic, occupying a more conspicuous space in the political sphere, we have left ourselves no room. It must suf 6 "It will be curious to see the opinion of Lord Clarendon's friends on his conduct at this critical juncture, as recorded by one of them at the time: Divers Bishops and noblemen are not at all satisfied with this so sudden an assumption of the crown, without any previous sending and offering some conditions to the absent King; or, on his not returning, or not assenting to those conditions, to have proclaimed him Regent; but the major part of both houses prevailed to make them King and Queene immediately, and a Crowne was tempting. This was opposed and spoken against with such vehemence by Lord Clarendon (her own uncle), that it put him by all preferment, which must doubtlesse have been as great as could have been given him. My Lord of Rochester, his brother, overshot himselfe by the same carriage and stiffnesse, which their friends thought they might well have spared, when they saw how it was like to be overruled, and that it had been sufficient to have declared their dissent with less passion, acquiescing in due time." Evelyn's Diary, vol. ii. p. 7. fice to inform the reader they consist chiefly of the Diary, a broken one, kept during his embassy to Sobieski, in which he was accompanied by Dr. South. The narrative contains no points of interest whatever, and the style of it is dull and spiritless. He seems to have had some trouble in keeping his chaplain in good humour-he refused to accompany Hyde to Sobeiski's camp, and was again displeased at being left without a cook. The good doctor sulks most amusingly. There was no getting him to read prayers, in conformity with the new style of the Continent.-In the Correspondence, we have letters from James, then Duke of York, the Prince of Orange, Duke of Monmouth, Duke of Ormond, Sir William Temple; and among the papers are, one containing the particulars of the wreck of the Gloucester, (on board of which was James, and his dogs, and as some have added in the catalogue, his priests,)-others relative to the defection of Dartmouth with the fleet; and others, which prove the suppression by Sunderland of Monmouth's last letter to the King. The whole series is ably edited by Mr. Singer, who has very usefully headed the letters with a synopsis of their contents, and annotated throughout with good discretion. DIRGE TO THE MEMORY OF MISS ELLEN GEE, OF KEW, Never again shall I and U For ah! the Fates! I know not Y, Which ven'mous stung her in the I, LN exclaim'd, "Vile spiteful B! On jess'mine, rosebud, or sweet P, "I'll send you, like a lamb or U, From our delightful village Q, "A stream runs from my wounded I, Salt as the briny C, As rapid as the X or Y, The OIO, or D. Ye nymphs of Q, then shun each B, Now in a grave L deep in Q, FIELD'S MEMOIRS OF PARR.* We have already noticed the First Volume of the present work, which made its appearance a few months ago. Mr. Field has now concluded his task, and his book is destined, in all probability, to be the only tolerable record of Parr which the public will ever receive; and as such we must take it, with its merits and defects. Labouring under disadvantages from the prejudices of some who were among Parr's friends, inducing them to withhold upon many occasions the information he solicited, or to give it in other quarters, it is only to be wondered at how Mr. Field contrived to obtain the materials he has laid before us. A heavy work of seven or eight volumes on one hand, containing all Dr. Parr has written, and not at all calculated for circulation,-and an ill-judged attempt to rival Boswell on the other by exaggerated panegyric, and the publication of every little anecdote, however trivial and calculated to make the departed scholar ridiculous,-have afforded much opportunity for critical censure and malicious misrepresentation. A repartee, that the speaker would never utter if he dreamed it would be recorded in print, bearing marks of unwarrantable severity, might be delivered in society jocosely, and without intention to offend. What mortal man, even the best, could bear that all the trivialities of his unguarded social moments should be reported? Is the domestic circle never to be a scene of relaxation? must the playful jests and littlenesses men exhibit in seclusion be dragged out of it into the world? The composers of such works may be well-intentioned, but they display a lack of judgment in their selection of materials, which is astonishing; a want of penetration and foresight for which it is difficult to account. Their labours are not only made the medium of well-founded attacks upon themselves, but afford an opportunity for the stupidity or malice of every blockhead† to "show up," as the slang term is, their hero. We noticed, on the publication of the First Volume of Mr. Field's Memoirs, his account of Parr's early years. The present Volume commences with the interval between 1800 and 1807, and details the sentiments and conduct of Parr during that period; the intimacy of Parr and Fox; and the death and funeral of the statesman. In public life Parr made no figure; intrepid in upholding his principles with his pen, and in avowing them openly, he was not the man to act. His habits as a scholar spoiled him for active measures, or perhaps his very nature was averse from them. The sphere of his influence was confined; and it will soon be only as to his sentiments and his scholarship that an interest will be felt; for those who knew his generous spirit in social life, and his personal friends, must soon follow him. He had the advantage of being before the age in his views, and is * Memoirs of the Life, Writings, and Opinions of the Rev. Samuel Parr, LL.D. with Biographical Notices of many of his Friends, Pupils, and Contemporaries. By the Rev. William Field. Vol. II. + Such an article was imposed on the Editor of "The Times" Newspaper, for example, a week or two since. therefore appreciated only by the wisest and best men of the day. His learning is indisputable, and among scholars his memory will have due respect; but he was not of the order of great spirits that shock an empire when they leave the world. He has left no works to sustain his reputation, and exaggerated praise is consequently unjustifiable, and inflicts a positive injury upon his memory. We are glad to see Mr. Field has avoided this extreme. His work contains as much as is needful to be known, with somewhat more (as we observed in a former article) respecting insignificant persons in the circle of his acquaintance than is necessary. In the present volume, the individuals enumerated among his friends are better known, and, consequently, his mention of them is far more interesting. After noticing the publication of the Characters of Fox by Parr, Mr. Field lays before us the sentiments of the Doctor upon the administration of justice; and here his benevolence and kindness are conspicuously exhibited. That compound of ignorance and barbarity, the statute-book, early attracted his attention, and drew down his censures. He visited the prisons; held interviews with the condemned; and, like many sensible people, refrained from prosecuting offenders, because of the severity of the laws. For years he visited the dungeons of Warwick gaol, to advise and console the condemned. Of one convict, who was deaf to his exhortations and died with fortitude, he remarked, that "his intrepidity was without the calmness of resignation, and without the sanctity of repentance; and yet there were some loose and floating notions of virtue." He once prevented a condemned criminal from committing suicide before the time of execution, and was one of the first to hail the formation of a society for the improvement of prison discipline. Parr was a decided opponent of that wicked practice, which none but men versed in and hardened by the chicanery of law can justify, the non-allowance of counsel to prisoners. "Every accused person, whether guilty or not, ought, in the means of defending himself, to be put on a level with his accusers; especially where the laws are so remorseless, and the penalty so dreadful.” In this feeling he would not prosecute an Irish youth who had robbed him, but sent him home; on which occasion he wrote the following letter to the great and good Mr. Roscoe at Liverpool. ton. "Dear and most esteemed Mr. Roscoe The bearer is an Irish lad, who has no friend in the world, or the world's law. He is about twenty years old. He was brought into my neighbourhood by his parents, who have deserted him. He was unknown; he was unassisted; he was unemployed. In danger of starving, he, on Thursday night, opened the door of my carriage, which was at an inn in LeamingHe found in it a pair of gaiters, a large coachman's great-coat, and a small great-coat. He took away the small great-coat. The robbery was discovered late at night; and the proprietor of the inn the next morning began to inquire. He traced the offender to a neighbouring village. He seized and secured him; and the poor wretch immediately confessed his crime; and conducted his pursuer, who was the constable, to the house of a country tailor, with whom he had left the coat to be mended. Last night the constable came to me for orders. I heard the story with anguish. My servant shall not prosecute. The constable is compelled to bring the poor creature before a justice; and I am endeavouring, by previous communication with his worship, to stop further proceedings, that the poor fellow may not be sent to jail. Ample is the punishment already inflicted by menaces, reproaches, and confinement in a dark room. His terrors, I am told, are unexampled. If I can manage with the justice, I shall pay his passage to Liverpool, when all must depend on your humane protection. Pray have him sent forward to Ireland; and, like the Samaritan, I will pay you what is laid out when I go your way again, or before, I must take this letter with me to Warwick. My spirits are disturbed by this affair; and my house is beset by those who are come to me about it.My dear friend, I add a line or two just to say that I have rescued the poor creature from the gripe of the law. I commend him to the mercy of God, and to you as the instrument of that mercy. Accept my best wishes to all who are near and dear to you. I am, most unfeignedly, respectfully, and affectionately, your friend "S. PARR." |