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to determine whether he admired them or their husbands the most.
We shall never forget the expression of his face, when, meeting him one day in unusual spirits, and inquiring the cause, he replied, “Only think what a chance has been thrown away on me. It would have made my fortune as a young man. I have been asked to dinner to-day by Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper.' The man who felt so deeply this honour (and great we admit it to have been) had recently been minister of state; was witty, eloquent, and well-favoured ; an earl, with a clear eighty thousand a-year; a man, who, with one smile, would have gladdened all the hearts of all the mothers of all the unmarried daughters of all the four quarters of the globe. The union of beauty and rank was more than his tender aristocratical heart could stand. He was a cavalier of the old modern school, and felt himself honoured by the smallest token of fair ladye's regard. He acknowledged the inferiority of the ancient Grecian system, to which, in his own words, “ that steady, settled influence of woman upon society was utterly unknown; which has given grace, variety, and interest to private life.'
Although no man was ever more susceptible of female charms and influence, his conversation, like his correspondence, was a model of purity. No word, no idea, no allusion ever escaped him which could cause a blush to mantle on the most sensitive cheek. He was singularly modest; his nice tact taught him that want of decency was want of sense; that vice loses half its shame hy being stripped of all its grossness. He kept sedulously out of sight all that is thrust forward into disgusting daylight in the manners and literature of • la jeune France.'
True, indeed, was the remark of the Bishop of Llandaff that Lord Dudley exhibited at all periods of his life that most engagé ing of all compounds, a playful fancy joined with a vigorous understanding and a serious heart.' This seriousness, like a minor key, gave a pathos to his humour, a dignity to his cheerfulness. It was based on the surest foundations. It would be almost an injustice to his memory not to state that a deep and awful sense of religion formed one ingredient of his character, together with a hatred of profaneness in those who profess outwardly a belief in Christianity. The volume now before us fully bears out these assertions of the editor, who in his own sacred vocation was best qualified to perceive, appreciate, and encourage the development of such sentiments. We would particularly point out to our readers Lord Dudley's estimate of the religion of the Italians : the injurious effect of Romanism, in dulling the feeling of conscience-the much greater chances of their superstition?
being succeeded by infidelity than by 'true religion.' (Letter 18.) He satisfied his own mind by a careful examination as to the 'genuineness of the gospels, knowing that if their authenticity were iinpaired the whole fabric would fall to the ground.' (Letter 30.) We have no space for his able reflections on the • splendid theological speeches' of Chalmers. (Letter 32.)
He opposed everything which could make “virtue ridiculous, or give dignity to vice.' (Q. R., vol. x. p. 302.) He shrunk in thought, word, and deed, from anything bordering on irreverence, on the mixing up sacred things in common parlance. Even in his moments of sufferance, when his reason was out of tune like sweet bells jangled, his awe of approaching holy ground never left him—nor his trust in the only source of consolation :
"This has been one of my very worst days. If I might, without profaneness, borrow the most expressive language, I should say that the iron had entered into my soul deeper than before. A violent paroxysm, however, has been succeeded by comparative tranquillity, and I trust, under Providence, to time and patience for relief.'—Letler 76.
We must now conclude this slight sketch of a character which had in it very much to be admired—of a history which had much to be pitied. On the more painful shades of his bodily sufferings we have been silent. Some passages, we learn from the preface, have already been suppressed by the discretion of the editor. Perhaps all allusion to a large portion of what his Lordship retains might have been confined to what appears in the table of contents :— Letters 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, describe his sufferings under hypochondriacal disease.'
We could also have desired some suppression, or some condensation, at least, of several letters which immediately follow that black series. They relate to the vacillation which he exhibited when offered the under-secretaryship. In ultimately declining it he acted in diametrical opposition to the advice of one who of all men was the best fitted to be his counsellor on such an occasion—a familiar friend of the same age and rank, a common friend of Canning's, a common opposer of Reform. It is so seldom our good fortune to agree with Lord Melbourne, that we gladly avail ourselves of the opportunity of quoting his inimitable letter :
'Panshanger, Sept. 29, 1822. I received your letter this morning alone, destroyed it as soon as I had read it, and have considered its contents as I rode over here from Brockett, and, upon the whole, putting myself in your place, I have little doubt that you should accept the offer: it is one of the pleasantest placcs under government-necessarily gives an insight into all that is going on, and would be rendered to you particularly agreeable by your cordial agreement and intimacy with your principal; add to this, that
it would have the effect of supporting and assisting Canning at this moment—that it might lead to more-that it would give you what you want in occupation and employment-and that, without flattering your abilities and knowledge of the world at home and abroad, it might enable you to be of essential service to the ministry and the country. These are considerations sufficient in my mind to induce you to accept: at the same time do not take it unless you can make up your mind, in the first place, to bear every species of abuse and misrepresentation, and the imputation of the most sordid and interested motives; in the second place, to go through with it if you undertake it, and not to be dispirited by any difficulties or annoyances which you may find in the office; and which you may depend upon it no office is free from. I write in a great hurry, and with a bad pen, but if you can read it you will understand me as well as if I had written three times as much.
• Yours very sincerely, · Hon. J. W. Ward.
Wm. LAMB. This letter is a cabinet picture of a rare class; it paints the man. Here we trace the germ of those eminent qualities which have since rendered Lord Melbourne the charm of Windsor; the sole stay, buttress, and key-stone of Downing-street. The future premier, having well considered the matter alone, makes up his mind at once. His reasons and cautions are stamped with idiosyncracy. The last sentence is a gem—the off-hand, ready composition, the bad (we fancy we see it) pen, the good-natured, gentlemanlike kindness, and thorough knowledge of his man; the suggestive tone, which puts the applicant on the right scent, omitting nothing that is essential, yet leaving to a sensitive mind the credit of working it out.
Art. IV.-1. Reports of the Committee of the House of Lords
on the State of Ireland. 1839. 2. Reports of the Committees of the Houses of Lords and Com
mons. 1822, 1824, 1825. 3. Reports of the Committee of the House of Lords on Tithes in
Ireland. 1892. 4. L'Irelande; Sociale, Politique, et Religieuse. Par Gustave
de Beaumont. Paris, 1839. 5. Ireland in 1834. By Henry D. Inglis. London, 1835. 6. Ribbonism in Ireland ; or Report of the Trial of Richard
Jones. Dublin, 1840. 7. A Digest of Evidence before Committees of both Houses of
Parliament. By the Rev. W. Phelan and the Rev. M.
O'Sullivan. London, 1826. 8. Romanism as it Rules in Ireland. By the Rev. Mortimer O'Sullivan and the Rev. Robert J. M.Ghee. London, 1840.
.9. Historical Sketch of the late Catholic Association of Ireland.
. By Thomas Wyse, Esq., jun. London, 1829. 10. Tales and Stories of the Irish Peasantry. By William
Carleton. London, 1836. 11. Journal of a Tour in Ireland in 1835. London, 1836. 12. Selection from the Evidence before the Irish Poor Inquiry
Commission. Dublin, 1835. 13. History of the Policy of the Church of Rome. By the Rev.
W. Phelan. Svo. Dublin. TRELAND!-and at this word how many readers will be disI posed to close the book! There are men, whose trade is sedition, and whose daily bread depends on exasperating and infuriating the unhappy Irish peasant, by representing the feelings of England towards Ireland to be those of hatred and contempt.
Those who know England, know that the charge is as false, as most other statements which come from the same mouth. But if these men were to say that England was by degrees becoming indifferent and apathetic to the state of Ireland,--that we are profoundly ignorant of its real condition,—and that even good and sober-minded men are beginning to contemplate the prospect of being relieved from the burthen of Irish affairs as an alternative not utterly to be rejected, they would probably speak the truth. Perhaps at no great distance of time, if the course of events now in progress is permitted to work itself out, few features in these days will excite in the readers of history more perplexity, and more melancholy, than this growing weariness and despair at the very mention of Ireland. At present there is little difficulty in accounting for it. Describe to a man a state of things in a separate country which he has never seen,-let these things bear the same names and outward forms with those which he sees around him, while the real internal operations are essentially different, -let the evils, which he is called on to remedy, be the result, not of one bad system of government or of one age, but of systems and of ages working into and complicating with each other;—let him listen to a number of empirics, each with his quack panacea, trying experiments day after day, and all of them failing ;—when he would inquire for himself, place, one on each side of him, two parties of zealous, fluent, irritable talkers, both naturally inclined to recriminate on each other, both, at the least, incautious as to the accuracy of their statements, both accusing each other of habitual falsifications, and both evidently at times in the wrong ;-let him then see so much of the truth as to be incapable of denying a collection of paradoxes, such as, perhaps, were never brought together in the history of any other nation ;-the moment that he would move a step to remedy the evils before him, let him find himself pulled down, and fastened by one party or the other, and at the same time feel a hand upon his throat, threatening his very life, unless he consents to abandon all interference;—and thus placed, a man, we think, would be strongly tempted to give up his interest in the affairs of these combatants, and, at whatever risk to himself, would sit down, if not contented, at least desperate and vanquished. Such we believe to be, very generally, the state of the English mind with respect to Ireland.
And we all know that there is amongst us a principle (what Mr. Carlyle calls the • laissez-faire system'),-a sort of fatalism and self-abandonment, the result of our loss of truth, and, with truth, of all moral energy and courage, with which principle this indifference and despair naturally fall in. Men no longer think of governing, or resisting, or contending : they fold their arms, give themselves up to be carried down the stream, congratulate themselves on the luxury of their own repose, and when voices call out to warn them that they are hurrying down to a cataract, they compose themselves to sleep.
Perliaps the future historian of this empire, who shall read its fate by the light of a higher wisdom than mere human calculation, will see in many of its recent deeds symptoms of something more than mere indolence and ignorance. There is no reason why on nations, as well as on individuals, there may not be sent, at tines, that worst and last curse of our fallen nature—a judicial blindness. When men are unwilling to retain religious truth in their thoughts,—when they set it aside from their daily and most important duties,—when they despise governments,' and 'speak evil of dignities,'-—when they place human power before divine, and make their life one course of covetousness and self-indulgence,—we have not only reason and experience, but a higher authority than either, to expect that such an age will be allowed to fall into 'strong delusions. Such a delusion is, we believe at this moment hanging over England; and, looking to her conduct and character for some years past, a careful observer will scarcely think it accidental.
We propose, then, at present to make a few observations on the state of Ireland ;- not to attempt a full view (for this would be impracticable), but to suggest soine points of inquiry to those who are disposed candidly and seriously to examine into the circumstances of that unhappy country.
There are two facts on which all parties seem tolerably agreed, and they form the first paradox in the condition of Ireland. There rarely, if ever, was a country so blessed by nature; rarely, if ever, one so cursed by man. It seems to contain within itself everything which a politician could desire to form a happy and