Oh! poor conception! then did Greece impart Their country's loyal love, and friendship's holy flame. Few, I conceive, and little to be envied, are they who can read a fair account of Canning's life, and fail on reflection to perceive in all its prominent features a distinct expression of those ennobling qualities inculcated by Greece. Who without a blush could question his courage, his energy, his thirst of fame, his loyal patriotism, and deep sense of all that constitutes a sincere friendship? I cannot leave this part of my subject without reminding the reader of other pieces of verse, comical as well as serious, which owe their existence to Mr. Canning's pen. A list of them it is not in my power to give, but I may perhaps record a few not generally known as his. Of the serious kind in a separate form the most substantial is one entitled 'Nelson and Trafalgar.' It exhibits in strong contrast the characters of Napoleon Bonaparte and Horatio Nelson, showing, at the same time, the qualities and objects which on the one hand its author most condemned, and on the other most admired. In these respects it links on with the sentiments displayed in his earlier poems, and even repeats almost to the letter that passage in the Oxford address which I have particularly noted. My knowledge of the serious compositions is limited to four, namely, 'The Pilot who weathered the Storm,' the series of British kings in Latin verse, some lines on marriage when his own was in prospect, and an epitaph on his eldest son, whose life, to use the father's expression, was a long disease,' and his death in early manhood what, in Shakespeare's language, was a consummation devoutly to be wished.' Mr. Canning's contributions to the Anti-Jacobin appear to have been almost entirely ludicrous and satirical. The long and very impressive poem which closes that celebrated periodical has, I believe, been always attributed to him. What may be now stated with certainty is that some of the passages are so strikingly characteristic of his style and habit of thought as to leave no room for any other claim to their authorship. The following lines, for instance, may be confidently adduced in support of this remark : Candour-who loves in see-saw strain to tell Of acting foolishly, but meaning well, Bold I can meet, perhaps may turn his blow; The fugitive pieces of a lighter kind may be reserved for cursory notice in some later page. Mention has already been made of our orator's power of argument as cropping out rudimentally in his childish days. In my possession there is a letter, which exhibits not only a far stronger proof of his early talent in that respect, but a clear exposition of the principles on which he was prepared to reason, whether in his private search or public assertion of truth. I can hardly be wrong in placing word for word on record here a complete extract of so precious a testimonial. Crewe Hall, October 15th, 1792. Argument upon any topic I am so far from being anxious to avoid, or apt to hold cheap, that I desire nothing better than a fair and candid discussion of anything that I may at any time think, or say, or do. But I did mean to say-and I do mean to say that the sort of argument which never did, or will, or in my opinion ought to make an impression upon my mind, is that which is derived, not from reason or inquiry into the truth or falsehood, the propriety or impropriety of the subject, but from example only-as when one hears, 'Such a one thought so,' 'Such a one said so,' 'Such a one acted so'-brought as a sufficient ground for oneself being so to think, say, and do, without any investigation of the principles on which such habit of thought, word, or action, was established and to be justified; and that too with regard to subjects not of skill and private professional dexterity (for on this sort of subjects the word or opinion of a practitioner may be, to a man who has not the same opportunities of knowledge, a sufficient direction), but upon broad general topics, which every man has equal opportunities of examining, and which every thinking man, according to my notions, is not only justified, but absolutely bound for his own honour and conscience, to examine for himself. Tell me that a farmer thinks so and so about seed; that a painter says this or that is the best method of mixing his colours; that a physician holds such or such medicine to be the specific for a particular complaint. And as I neither can nor need have, or pretend to have, any power of judging from my own knowledge of agriculture, painting, or medicine, I am willing (provided nothing has come within my own experience to contradict them) to adopt implicitly the opinion of the farmer, the painter, or the physician. But tell me that such a one (be the person who he may, be he one for whose abilities and penetration I have the highest respect, for whose person and character I have the warmest affection)-tell me that any person thinks so or so about morals, or about politics, or any other subject, if there be any other equally open to the consideration of all men, and for which no technical skill or particular habit is necessary, and where, therefore, I have the same opportunity, the same power, and consequently the same right, of forming my opinion, as that person had to form his opinion in such a case, though I should certainly hear the opinion with a deference, and examine it with an attention, proportionate to the consideration in which I held the person from whom it came; yet, if, after such examination, I should find that my opinion did not coincide with his, I should no more think of conforming to that which I did not approve, because of the authority by which it was supported, than I should think of calling black white, or white black, in contradiction to my senses, and in compliance to the fancy of another. The sum, therefore, of what I expressed, or intended to express, in my last letter, and of what I have more than once before endeavoured to convey to you at different times, is simply this: That so long as God continues to me the power of comparing, selecting, and judging between facts and opinions, it shall be my earnest endeavour to do so with as little prejudice and partiality as possible; and that, whatever faults and errors I may commit, I will at least have the satisfaction of charging them upon my own responsibility; and will not have it said to me-not justly said to me at least-This you did on such a one's opinion; thus you were the tool of that man;' 'Here you were the echo of t'other;' 'Now your mind is warped by Mr. Tomkins;' 'Sir John Simpkins gave you that notion of things.' Such, I say, shall be my earnest endeavour. But in this, what is there of arrogance or self-sufficiency? Do I say I will never ask advice? never hear reproach? never collect information? God forbid; on every point I shall be ready and willing to profit by them all. But, that I may profit by them in good truth, it is necessary that they should never be received implicitly and from authority only, but heard, weighed, discussed, and finally adopted or rejected, with attention and respect, and a determination to get as near conviction as possible-with a resolution, in short, to act to the best of one's own judgment, and with (what in a mind of common candour necessarily accompanies such feelings) a large, free, and unequivocal toleration of other people's opinions and actions, so long as they are not set up as an unerring rule whereby to measure and estimate mine. A man who in early manhood had fixed with due deliberation his rule of decision in doubtful cases of a practical kind, is surely entitled to a first impression in favour of his having been actuated by honourable motives in every act of life exposed to public criticism. Well might the boys at Eton, when Canning was one of them, solicit and defer to his opinion with reference to some point on which their own impressions were vague or contradictory. For the correctness of this rather curious circumstance, I can appeal to a respected schoolfellow of his, who brought it to my knowledge. It may be added that before and after he had taken part in state affairs he was habitually consulted by his nearest relations as one on whose judgment full reliance could be safely placed. Pitt must have set no small value on his opinion, for I have seen a financial sketch communicated to him by that high-minded minister, with a request to know what he thought of going to war in such a state of the country's I have his own authority for stating what may be fairly taken as having in some degree a similar bearing. When Lord Cornwallis wrote from Dublin that Catholic emancipation could not be carried with the Act of Union, he advised Mr. Pitt to abstain from pressing the latter measure to its final accomplishment. The Union, as we all know, was nevertheless carried through by itself, but followed at no great distance of time by the Act of Emancipation hoisted into an imperial law under the banner of a party previously opposed to it, and, stranger still perhaps, unattended as yet by its promised and expected consequences, contentment and internal tranquillity. resources. I have seen it stated in some memoir that Mr. Canning's first acquaintance with the minister of his choice was an invitation from Mr. Pitt. According to my recollection of what he told me himself, he sought, uninvited and without any previous introduction, an interview with the man whose ability, character, and policy he most approved under the critical circumstances in which the country was then placed. A line in the Pursuits of Literature, an anonymous poem of much note at the time, goes far to confirm this version of the incident:: Or seize on Pitt like Canning, by surprise. In either case the political connection had its origin in the same. motives, and led to results of mutual confidence and mutual satisfaction, terminating only in the death of him to whom the words of Virgil may be justly applied :— Utcunque ferent ea facta minores, Vincet amor patriæ laudumque immensa cupido. The youthful survivor had been reproached with passing over from the Whig to the Tory party in order to open his way into Parliament and office. His own unsupported position and early acquaintances may have given birth to the suspicion, but there is enough in extant correspondence to show the real grounds of his preference, the total absence of anything which ought to have fettered his choice, and the independent spirit with which he gave it a substantial effect. Quotations more or less according with these assertions may be fitly preceded by a statement of two circumstances which are not without interest as bearing on this matter. First, there is reason to believe that Canning was aware of the Duke of Portland's intention to secure his entrance into Parliament when Mr. Pitt obtained in his favour the nomination to Newport. He is known to have said that he foresaw the Duke's transition to the side of Government, and was not prepared to move in the train of any one. Secondly, the late General Fox showed me a letter written by his father, Lord Holland, in reply to a female relation who had called upon him to renounce all intercourse with Canning on account of his supposed tergiversation, and vindicating him in terms highly creditable to his calumniated friend. The quotations thus prefaced follow in the order of their dates. The first are copied from a letter addressed from the Temple to a friend who was travelling in Russia. The parts omitted with a view to brevity differ in no respect from the sense of those now brought into the light. Paper Buildings, December 4th, 1792. The state of the country at present is perhaps the most alarming that it is possible to conceive. The rapid progress of the French arms, and the wide diffusion of French principles, has given to a Republican party here such strength and spirit that there is, in my opinion, nothing mischievous and desperate which may not be apprehended from them. This party is not, I believe, at this moment very numerous, but by its activity it is very likely to become so. Their principles are disseminated with an industry and success that is every day increasing. The plau proposed by these gentry is no other than an exact imitation of all that has been done in France. . . . I have lately met with persons, and persons of education too, who have talked of the landing of an armed force of Frenchmen in Scotland ard VOL. VII.-No. 35. D Ireland as an event not only probable, but very reasonably to be expected and desired. In Scotland the people are rife for insurrection. In Ireland the Catholics pursue their claims as yet with moderation and temper; but if something be not done for them in the ensuing session of Parliament the consequence will be either war or massacre. Administration indeed, as I am told, and most sincerely hope, are well disposed to grant to them all that they claim; and their claims, God knows, are not exorbitant. They ask only that in trials of Papists, civil or criminal, the jury shall be, as is the law where foreigners are concerned, half of their own persuasion; and that they may be admitted, under the same qualifications as Protestants, to vote for county members. The Protestants of Ireland, however, consider these demands as the most unreasonable that they ever heard of in their lives. Friday Evening, December 14th. There was a most violent debate in the House of Commons last night on the Address. Mr. F. Fox declared himself in a manner that cannot be thought equivocal any longer for the reforms. Windham and Burke spoke and voted with Government most decidedly; but what puzzles me is that I am told the Duke of Portland's family friends voted with F. In the following summer he became for the first time a member of Parliament. This beginning of his political career is recorded in a letter addressed to my mother from Oxford :— Christ Church, July 5th, 1793. I can hardly squeeze a moment out of any day in this week for any other purpose than that of going about to see and talk to a thousand different people, who are here from a thousand different places. I write to you, therefore, rather to show you the outside of this letter than to give you any satisfactory explanation of it in the inside. That I must defer till the present bustle is over. I shall only say for the present that I have the honour to represent in Parliament the respectable borough of Newtown, in the Isle of Wight, and that I have come in without one farthing of expense, or one farthing's worth of obligation to any person in the world but one. That one you will easily guess; and if you guess it to be Mr. Pitt, you will be near the truth. It was not till the spring of 1796 that he entered into the service of Government as Under-Secretary of State, with Lord Grenville for his chief. By gradual success in speaking he repaid the confidence which his early reputation had founded; and he proved by his resignation of office, when Pitt on retiring advised him to hold on, that he had accepted it, if not only, yet principally, as offering both means and occasions of promoting the public interests. His treatment of Mr. Addington has been ascribed to malice and the indulgence of other personal feelings. But surely it is more reasonable to view it as a natural consequence of his political consistency. He was convinced that the country required a strong government to keep it afloat under the pressure of accumulated dangers, that Mr. Pitt was of all contemporary statesmen the one most capable of steering aright, and that his appointed successor was not only incompetent to the high task, but wholly unconscious of his incapacity. Wit and |