ridicule were the obvious instruments of a remedial kind, and Canning, a master of both, employed them in perfect good humour to shorten the rule of a weak administration unequal to the necessities of the time. He entered into no systematic opposition to Mr. Addington in his parliamentary votes; he addressed himself courteously. to the objectionable minister from his place in the House of Commons, and his shafts of ridicule, however successful, left no angry or unkind feeling in the bosom of their butt; for several years later, when Lord Sidmouth was Minister for the Home Department, he came out of his room on learning that Canning, member for Liverpool, was in his office, and shook hands with his former adversary with every appearance of good-nature and cordiality.

On the close of the Duke of Portland's administration in October 1809, Mr. Perceval succeeded to the vacant post of Premier. In the private communications which had taken place just before between him and Mr. Canning, the latter thought he had reason to complain of the use, injurious to him, which had been made of the correspondence; and he made up his mind in consequence to take no part in the new government, but to support or oppose its measures, according to his judgment, as an independent member of the House. All this appears with full explanations in a letter of his marked private, of which I possess an authentic copy.

Wit, eloquence, and literary talent formed the capital of George Canning's political column. Its base was character. What constitutes the force of character? What but command or influence,

giving to one the power of many? How is this power to be obtained where fortune has withheld her favours, if not by the exercise of qualities engaging the admiration, the confidence, the sympathy of others on a scale proportioned to the interests at stake or the arena of competition? Distinguished to a high degree by the qualities here described, he had a fair claim to the chief direction of affairs; but Perceval enjoyed the advantage of having been the ministerial leader of the Commons, and the duel with Castlereagh had not been viewed in its true colour by some influential minds. A detailed justification of Mr. Canning's. conduct was circulated immediately. after the meeting, to which I now allude as furnishing an instance of his strong sense of public duty and his constant readiness to act upon its impulse at every risk-vitam impendere vero. Although his, colleague's challenge was a tissue, as he declared in reply, of misrepresentations, he accepted it at once, and on Wimbledon Common exposed himself to the peril of a repeated exchange of shots rather than be the first to take shelter under the friendly interference of the seconds.

Canning, in fact, had courage equal to any occasion. Though by no means quarrelsome, and having the habits of a civilian devoted to peaceful pursuits, he brooked no taunting reflection on his motives

On one reHis life was

of action, or slighting allusion to his mother's history. markable occasion he carried resolution to its extreme. seriously threatened by some anonymous assailant through the medium of a public journal. He sent a message to the menacing and murderous party through the editor of the newspaper, offering to meet him as adverse parties are wont to meet, and pledging his honour that he would go to the place of meeting alone, and without the knowledge of any other person whatever.

More on this part of the subject can hardly be required.

The incident of all others in his political career which gave a handle to detraction and obloquy was the embassy to Lisbon. A friend, perhaps a candid one, might question the prudence of the step in that light; but his long, minutely detailed, and wonderfully able speech, when brought face to face with his parliamentary censors in May 1817, reflected so clearly the principles of his conduct, as previously exhibited in writing and action, that his defensive statements, satisfactory as they were in themselves, derived as much confirmation from their consistency with the antecedents as from the very large majority which cleared him of all culpability, and scattered to the winds a futile, if not a malignant, attack. Sir Thomas Acland, the just, intelligent, and independent member for Devonshire, bore witness in a few decisive words to the impression made upon the House by Mr. Canning's defence. His closing words were these: After a speech which had thrilled through every heart in the House, he would have been proud to have been so accused in order to have so defended himself.'

Reproaches were also thrown out against Mr. Canning for joining the Government in 1814, and remaining in office when the famous and, in some respects, obnoxious Six Acts were carried through Parliament by ministerial influence. Why, it may be asked, was he to be shut out from a Government from whose general policy he did not dissent, which opened its arms to receive him, and whose chief, Lord Liverpool, was his life-long friend? With respect to the Six Acts, it should be remembered that the nation, throughout a large extent of its three original kingdoms, was breaking into violent disorder caused by a general distress, verging in some parts on famine, for which the ministers were not answerable, and heightened to the point of exasperation by revolutionary agitators in short, that the restrictive measures voted by Parliament, but unpopular in so far as they put a curb on the abuse of public assemblies and freedom of press, belonged to the sad period of tumultuary processions, inflammatory harangues, and finally of the Cato Street conspiracy. It is but fair likewise to bear in mind that he retired from office not long afterwards rather than take part in the prosecution of Queen Caroline. To all appearance that act was the close of his official aspirations in England. The East India directors made choice of him for the

government of their possessions in Hindostan, and he was on the point of embarking for his remote destination, when the death of Lord Castlereagh restored him to Downing Street, and, to use his own expression, attached him to the labouring oars for life. Those who were urgent for his return to the Foreign Office were at first unwilling to concede to him the lead, as it is termed, of the House of Commons. 'Both or neither' was the position he assumed, and his high-minded resolution prevailed, at the time, perhaps, to his regret.

His second administration of foreign affairs, which lasted five years, had for its basis the maintenance of peace on principles of liberal order, political freedom, and international respect. The country in general, it might perhaps be said without exception, went with him. Some few may possibly have fancied that the liberality was a new light supplied by personal convenience or ambitious compliance with popular opinion. Appeal may surely be made to preceding statements in proof of its consistency with those impressions of his outset which led him to entertain a horror of the slave trade, to desire a more equitable state of law in Ireland, and even to sympathise with the first movements of revolution in France. But discrimination was a powerful quality of his comprehensive mind, and he, no doubt, perceived that circumstances which at one time, by threatening England and all Europe with evils of the worst kind, forbade the loosening of any established authorities or diplomatic relations, left room, by their cessation at a later period, for a practical recurrence to the generous inspirations of his youth.

Alike in both his appointments to the Foreign Office was the energy he displayed, in the former by his suggestion and urgent support of the expedition to Copenhagen, in the latter by the effectual rapidity with which he saved the independence of Portugal. Even in his study of the law, while passing from Christ Church to St. Stephen's, he showed the same earnestness of action by exchanging his chamber in the Temple for a lodging at Oxford, where a greater command of books made up for a narrower field of amusements.

His reputation for wit and agreeable conversation made him a welcome guest both in town and country; but pleasantry now and then employed with a depreciating effect, and sarcasm used for the exposure of artifice or absurdity, raised here and there a notion that he was ill-natured and malicious. Never was a greater mistake. He was constitutionally good-humoured and kind; on principle, as I believe, he never yielded to a malicious feeling. The general character of his wit was light and playful; a contrast, a likeness between opposites, an illustration, a word used in a new sense, a ludicrous image, and other elements of fun were its usual forms. Punning was the only exception. Often as I have been in his company, I never heard him make a pun. His language in private was simple, amusing at the

time, but rarely so moulded as to claim a place in the addenda of Joe Miller. He was fully conscious of his power, and also knew its limits, for he told me on one occasion that he had never tried to raise a laugh at the expense of poverty or bodily defects.

Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se

Quam quod ridiculos homines facit.'

One remarkable incident in the House of Commons seemed to contradict this rule. It has not passed into oblivion, and the name of Ogden will suffice to recall it to the reader's recollection. A reference to Hansard's Debates will also explain for what legitimate reasons the seeming exception involved no breach of the rule, but, on the contrary, was emphatically required for the establishment of truth and the vindication of justice.

The case of poor Ogden was simple enough. He became an object of interest to Sir Francis Burdett and other politicians of the same class, to whom, through mistake or misrepresentation, he appeared in the light of a political victim, and by whom he was certainly made an instrument of attack upon the Government. Canning acquired an exact knowledge of the facts, which proved to be the very reverse of those stated in support of the assault, and manfully produced them in the House of Commons, increasing not a little the effect of their truth by the strong flashes of wit which he threw upon the adverse and wholly misshaped statement.

His early impressions of Grecian virtue did not fail him in the article of friendship. He was a steady, serviceable, and affectionate friend with respect to his early intimates and parliamentary supporters-affectionate, but varying in degree; serviceable, but according to what the occasion afforded or duty permitted. In my possession there is authentic proof of his having provided for the fair pretensions of every individual in the limited number of his political party at the same time that he consented to join the administration in 1814.

Somewhere about the year 1792, a young student of law occupied an apartment in the Temple. One morning a poor unacknowledged relation applied to him for relief. The student, having no money at command, gave him a portion of his clothes instead, and indemnified his servant for the loss of an eventual perquisite by the gift of his watch. The student was George Canning.

Several years later, a retired statesman, under the pressure of want and sickness, applied to a statesman in place for pecuniary aid. His bond for 2001. accompanied the request. A cheque to that amount was sent in reply, and the bond was thrown into the fire. George Canning was the statesman in place.

Of that student and statesman, the gifted in mind alone, no one has ever learnt the name without hearing of his wit as well as of his eloquence and ministerial celebrity. His talent of that kind has been Juvenal, Sat. iii. 152.

slily, perhaps even openly, stigmatised as not only sarcastic, but ill-natured into the bargain. Sarcastic it was, ay, and cutting to the bone, when artifice important enough to require exposure and rebuke warranted a sally of indignation; but ill-natured, in the sense I attach to ill-nature, it never was. I have seen many of his early letters, in some of which are names of persons familiar to the world at large, but all of an easy, light-hearted, good-natured character, the rare exceptions being sufficiently explained to justify the distinction. I had occasion once to consult him as to the manner in which I should treat a diplomatic colleague, of whose secret conduct, unwarrantable in form, and injurious to my diplomatic proceedings, I had accidentally acquired a knowledge. His answer was: Snub him, and leave him off. I will not name the man, although his roguery was discovered by his own Government, who treated him as a culprit, and employed him, nevertheless, privately, for he was clever enough to have a value independent of character. I once took the liberty of hinting to Mr. Canning that his manner of carrying on his political differences with the Duke of Wellington was rather below what the Duke might fairly think due to his great military services and almost unrivalled elevation. He must take neighbour's fare,' was all I got in reply. On another occasion I ventured to express some little surprise that he should have gone so far in the heat of party strife as to stop Mr. Brougham's provoking invective by exclaiming, That, sir, is false.' His justification consisted in the assertion that the words, however unqualified,' had done a great deal of good.' The mention of these rather trivial anecdotes may be excused on account of their significance as indications of his manner of expressing himself when explanation was to be avoided.

This point of view may be further illustrated by sundry familiar anecdotes or fugitive compositions, which, however, can only be stated at the risk of repeating what is already known to the social or literary world.

At the head of a dwarf selection may fitly be placed a schoolboy's epigram, written, as it would seem, with a feeling which in due season was to expand into patriotism :

When weigh'd with us you kick the beam,

Say wags of Eton jealous;

If true, the reason's clear, we deem

You are such heavy fellows!

Eton at a later period was also the scene of what follows. Several boys met together for the recital of a poem composed by one of them. Among the verses was a line which ran thus, if long tradition be correct :

By the blue lustre of her languid eye.

Objection was made to the italicised epithet, and various amend