and ruinous; and last, not least, the revolted feelings of a parent. Such are the real and aggravated features which the assailants of George III. have sunk into specious generalities to find other less honourable reasons for the common conduct of every father who is influenced by a sense of the paternal tie.

We are far from attributing unquestionable soundness to the expedients adopted by George III. Nor do we desire to be understood to express an unqualified acquiescence in the strictures, which a cursory glance would apply to the Prince of Wales. The king was a zealot for order, decorum, and morality; and in his anxiety to isolate his young family from the profligacy of the time, he did not sufficiently calculate on the effects of a sudden transition from the austere system he adopted into the glittering and voluptuous enchantments of a circle, in which pleasure was a religion and a study, and in which the distinctions of right and wrong were refined into a specious and graceful ornament for the rim of the Circean cup. Kings and princes are but men, and subject to the laws of our nature; the Prince of Wales acted on the impulses of youth, passion, and inexperience; and the suggestions as well as examples of those on whom we still look with admiration, if not respect. He did not, and could not reasonably be expected at once to rise above such temptations as seldom try the heart; and it is not without excuse if he yielded to circumstances above human virtue to resist. It has, however, been one of our maxims that a right education so modifies the heart, that in the worst of its errors it will maintain a constitutional and conservative tendency, which will ultimately renew it in the course from which it had been led astray. And this is well illustrated in the life of George the Fourth.

The Whigs, into whose arms he had been seduced, and whose triumphs he had assisted, were pledged as a party to his personal interests. And when the Coalition came into their shortlived power their first trial of strength was on the subject of his establishment. Their efforts failed, from the refusal of the king. An allowance which, with excellent but mistaken intentions, was less than his rank entitled him to, and an extravagance which would have drained the treasures of the east, soon placed him in a state of undignified necessity. We shall not lengthen our narrative by

separately detailing the various returns of this question before the public. It was for a long time the court card in the hands of Mr. Fox's party. From time to time it was brought before parliament, and continued to attract the attention of the country, and to be a topic of mutual exasperation between the Prince and his father. For a long time the moral firmness of George III. frustrated designs which were largely alloyed with party motives and with strong apparent detriment to the Prince's better interests. It was first unsuccessfully introduced in 1786, by Sheridan, in a question on the arrears of the civil list; and continued to return, in various forms, for the next sixteen years.

After Mr. Pitt became established in the confidence of the king and the nation, beyond the power of opposition, the prince's political enthusiasm subsided, and a long interval began, in which his connection with the Whigs ceased entirely to be political. They became the counsellors, examples, and associates of dissipations and debaucheries, which human nature must look on with a conscious charity, pity, and condemnation, but over which the friendly biographer should desire to throw the veil of oblivion. were in him excusable on the score of youth, and the total absence of sane counsel or example, but they were not more debasing than destructive.

They

"Cariton House," says one of our able guides, "was both the subject and the scene of profuse expenditure. The perpetual extensions and changes of design in building and decoration, consumed enormous sums; and splendid entertainments to persons of rank, wit, or reputation, alternated with the orgies of vulgar debauchery and gaming. It would seem as if, adopting the flatterers of the day, which compared his career to the Shakspearian youth of Henry V. he thought to complete the parallel, by defiling himself with the intimacy of buffoons and parasites, whose names are not worth recalling from oblivion and contempt."— Life of George IV.

To Mr. Fox we may concede, and for Sheridan we may claim the allowance that the personal sympathies of private friendship, may have largely entered into their conduct, so far as regards the Prince of Wales. But when the Whig historians of that period inpute fickleness and hollowness to the latter, in his conduct to some of these persons, we, on our

part, think it just to remind them of that which they will not be so simple or dishonest as to deny, that the party of Fox took the prince's in erests as they would have taken any other debateable topic, for its efficacy as a party weapon; and as directly consonant with their policy of subduing, controlling, and dictating to the king. Neither the king nor the prince, both eminently sagacious men, were to be duped by the hollow demonstrations of party. And while, on this score alone, we might justify the whole conduct of the king, it may also serve to show in its true aspect the conduct of the prince. While opposing, sternly opposed by a power that was exercised to his personal annoyance, it is a shallow mistake to imagine that he was so ignorant and so unprincipled as to be without some feeling for the dignity and honor of the crown which he was to wear at a future day, or to be altogether imposed on by the party sophistications of his debauched companions. The able writers on this topic seem to have disregarded the moral fact, that while men are carried away by the torrent of passion and the imposing fallacies of party, they may all through retain an impression that they are under delusive influence; and that a sense of what is true and fit, will now and then operate to check, moderate, and rectify their conduct. The prince was too much and too long behind the scenes to be the dupe of demonstrations which impose on none but historians. We trust our readers will excuse the controversial tone into which we are forced by the party statements of many of our respected authorities, from whose views we are obliged rather frequently to dissent, even while we respectfully assent to their state

ments.

The sincerity of George III. seems to be placed beyond question by the pertinacious consistency with which throughout the varied repetitions of this negociation, he stipulated for the marriage of the prince, and for a pledge not to contract further debts. We shall mention one anecdote which illustrates this. In 1785, when he proposed to the prince to increase his allowance to £100,000 a year, and grant £200,000 for his debts, &c. on the condition of his marrying, and ceasing to oppose the measures of government; the prince refused, and a conversation is reported as having soon after occurred between him and

the king, which throws a clear and even sublime illustration over the conduct of that great man, even if we allow it to have been carried to the length of error. He endeavoured to impress

on his son's mind that he should control his passions, and act on the principle of a due regard to his influential station.

"Pleasure," replied the Prince, "in my mind, belongs not to the man's station, but to the man; and you are yourself the victim of adopting the converse of this proposition. You have never of an affluent private gentleman, nor enjoyed one pleasure, not within the reach suffered one pain which has not proceeded from your station."

A sentence on which the apologist for George III. might build a truer exposition than that which accompanies the narrative from which we extract it.

Through the whole of these long protracted negociations, Sheridan was a principal agent They brought forward in the house his eloquence and party talents; in private council his tact, sagacity, and knowledge of men and affairs. Occasionally he had the opportunity to exhibit the zeal of an adherent and the devotedness of a personal friend. Nor will it be believed, that during these transactions his social fascinations were unemployed to gain the affections and confidential regard of one so much alive to the attractions of genius and wit as the Prince.

There was a natural assimilation of tastes, passions, intellect, and habits, which ripened political alliance and boon companionship into friendship--such, at least, as can be presumed to exist under terms of such inequality. Tact, taste, wit, were the talents of both both were social and pleasureloving in the extreme-both were destitute of prudence-both were warmed by honourable feelings and amiable sentiments-both had a constitutional recklessness of consequences—a passion for wild sallies and mischievous frolics. The Prince had of the two the firmest moral principle, and the higher prudence; but he was comparatively a boy in years, and these qualities were in abeyance. Their tastes and inclinations jumped together with a more than ordinary aptitude and consent; and it will be felt by those who read the lives of either, that there must have existed for each a charm in the other, quite independent of the ostentations or interested considerations,

which many are so lynx-eyed to perceive in the intercourse of prince and subject. Many amusing and singular stories, preserved among the numerous contemporary memoirs and critical notices of their period, are already in possession of the public, and illustrate that alliance in exploits of gaiety and practical humour which is known to have formed a bond between them. And if these outbreaks are far less equivocal in character than the nocturnal incidents of Gadshill in Henry IV. yet they do not at least fall very far deficient in spirit and mischief." In that grave play of ready-witted and specious knavery which amuses the simplicity, and turns off the attention of the devoted victim of a jest, until he is fairly lodged within the premunire of a ridiculous eclat, Sheridan was facile prin ceps among the wits.

As Sheridan has been accused of labour in the construction of his dramas, so the same comment has been, with more truth than discrimination, applied to his colloquial wit. We can afford little notice to the subject now; but may observe in passing, that the most abundant and overflowing wit must have its periods of exhaustion, and that when a man becomes professionally a wit, the excitement lessens, while the constraining demand of social expectation grows. In the beginning of life, vivacity like Sheridan's would triumph over this torpifying influence; but as he advanced in years as he came into a more brilliant and fastidious circle, and had not only to preserve his reputation, but to maintain his superiority-it ought not to be a matter of doubt that he would lose no advantage that he could secure. There is, however, a very obvious fact overlooked by those who imagine that this species of preparation has in it any thing derogatory to the reputation of the wit. The vivacious fancy from which wit flows, is seldom at rest; and though its intensest excitements are in the social hour, yet its best material occurs in the collisions and various encounters of busy occupation. Every one who knows the reigning spirit of any circle in which gaiety has a place, is aware how the slightest hint is seized, expanded, adorned, treasured up, and brought forth at the seasonable moment-as the butterfly, with its bright expansion of many-coloured wings, bursts from the grublike state of its former existence, so comes the folly, the

blunder, or dulness of some plodding brain-so amplified with gay ridiculeso adorned with airy touches of quintessential spirit, so harmonized into cha racteristic absurdity, that its first progenitor could scarce imagine the bril liant emanation to have in any way originated in any thing he ever said, did, or remotely contemplated. In his latter days, indeed, poor' Sheridan must have been sadly changed; and it is but too much the common lot, that our later years throw a shade over the reputation of our better days. It is very hard to bring home to a Youth's fancy, that there ever was a day when his father was a straight, slim, bright-eyed youth, without a corporation, and able to go a foot beyond him in a running leap!-Sic transit gloria mundi.

If our scope were ample, or if the career of Sheridan afforded an excuse for parliamentary narration, further than the bare statement of a question, for the occasion it gave for the display of his wit or eloquence, no period would present more deep interest than that at which we are arrived. The contest between the Whig party and the crown, long carried on with vast ability, and the pretext, at least, of much constitutional wisdom and principle on the part of the former, had, as will ever be the case in the development of party purposes, essentially changed their character, and degenerated into the struggle of a faction for power, and for the victory of party. Mr. Fox, who pursued his purposes with the keen spirit of a gamester, and with an unscrupulous and fearless audacity, which was neither influenced by any regard either to principles or consequences, became the leader and the idol of the opposition. It was, however, the turning point of a strong and Conservative reaction of the antagonist principles of the constitution, under the over-pressure of popular principles-for the line between constitutional and revolutionary opposition was for a moment passed, by the able men who yet stood round the champion of the lawless constituency of Westminster, in whose favour we may paraphrase an old say ing-"the nearer the legislature, the farther from law." The efforts of this party were now expended in a violent and pertinacious struggle to force Mr. Fox into power, and to wrest from the crown a prerogative which involves its very identity as a constitutional power. We are not among those who can perceive any thing unconstitutional in a

course adopted to restrain, or constrain, the exercise of prerogative. We think it as necessary as the opposite influence which the crown should be enabled to exert over the representative system the reduction of either is, in principle, destructive. But the Whig party in the Commons seized upon the prerogative itself, and rashly asserted a negative voice over the king's choice of his ministers. The question was hotly debated, and the obnoxious minister pursued in every form, by speech, and pamphlet, and address. Mr. Pitt held out with firmness, against remonstrances unsupported by the constitutional power of the Commons, and saved the country for better times. Such is our general view of Sheridan's party and the principles they maintained. We now pass to a topic more closely connected with our proper subject. The impeachment of Warren Hastings.

On this it is necessary to be brief. It gave occasion to the most distinguishing displays of Sheridan; but its vast and massive details were the labor of Burke. His was the digestion and arrangement of the voluminous mass of the facts the instruction of the agents, and the statements from which can be drawn the most precise notions of the importance and evidence of the greatest cause that was ever brought before any human judicature. It is very probable that a great part of our readers may not be intimately acquainted with the history of this cause. We do not, however, think that the secondary part which it fell to Sheridan to take in it, authorises details which will more properly find their place in a future sketch. We must here endeavour to present, in general terms, a notion sufficiently accurate for our design.

The reader is aware that the government of India was vested by charter in a company of British merchants. The distance between this government and their territory, was a disadvantage remedied by provisions of great seeming efficiency and wisdom; and which, until their operation was vitiated by the interference of those corrupting influences which enter into and impair all institutions, had the most prosperous effects. The same precise and methodical system which protects

the commercial interests of mankind, were transferred from the countinghouse to the sovereignty of a great empire; a regular apprenticeship secured experience in those who rose by slow degrees of subordination into trust and authority; and a system of written communication, which involved the minutest details, and gave to the most complicated and most casual occurrences, of whatever nature, the accuracy and evidence of a merchant's leger, brought the whole and every part into actual contact with the government of Leadenhall-street. Now the accusations against Mr. Hastings were, that he violated all these provisions, and established in their place a system of corruption, of which he made use for the purposes of plunder and oppression. By infringing the regular order of service and promotion, he was alleged to have acquired a vicious patronage; by suppressing the correspondence and various written documents, which were to have submitted to the Company the proceedings of their servants, he was said to have secured the secrecy which his purposes required. The exceeding strictness of the Company's regulations, he was described as using to involve all his subordinates in the necessity of connivance and cooperation. By these alleged means, the government was converted into a tremendous engine of oppression and spoliation; the charges drawn up by Mr. Burke, accordingly, accused Mr. Hastings of crimes proportioned to such a preparation. These we cannot detail with any justice to their character, in narrow limits. Spoliation and cruelty, under all the varied forms that have ever stained the records of history, were alleged to have been exercised with a lavish power; all pretexts were seized to plunder and oppress the independent kings of India, whose power and property it was the pledge, and had been the wise and humane policy of the Company to protect.

All sorts of underhand agency were employed, to entangle them into misunderstandings which might be made the excuse to seize their dominions, and confiscate their possessions; large bribes and annuities were taken for protection; and while the lowest present was illegal, a system of bribery

which far exceeded the regular revenues of the empire, was established. Mr. Hastings was a man of reputation and talent, and soon became possessed of an influence in England, that in some measure threw a sanction over his alleged irregularities. In obtaining his own ends, he had extended and seemingly consolidated the Indian empire; he had effected further inroads on the native powers, than wisdom and equity, only using lawful means, might have done, and he had thus secured him self a defensive line of representations, the strength of which was increased by other circumstances. His haughty defiance his private reputation-the natural tendency of party opposition, which is to carry on its incessant warfare on every question. During the protracted discussion in the Commons, and afterwards during the still more protracted trial in the House of Peers, the whole array of Mr. Burke's party was brought into action; and session after session witnessed a contention of eloquence, such as is not soon likely to grace the same stage.

In January 1787, Mr. Burke gave notice that he would renew the pro-ceedings against Mr. Hastings, on the 1st of February; and on the 7th of that month, Mr. Sheridan opened the third charge, the subject of which was the resumption of the Zaghires, and the confiscation of the treasures of the Princesses of Oude, the mother and grandmother of the Nabob of that principality. The subject was allotted with regard to Sheridan's peculiar powers. For five hours and a half he kept the house in a state of fascination -the effects of which are said to be unparalleled. When he ceased, the whole house joined in an unusual expression of tumultuous applause; and Mr. Burke pronounced the praise of his oratory in language from which, although much is to be subducted for the warmth of the moment, the interest to himself, and the feelings of human nature, yet we may satisfactorily infer the power of the effect. He declared it to be the "most astonishing effort of eloquence, argument and wit, united, of which there is any record or tradition." In truth, if we are to estimate the worth of a speech, solely by its effect at the moment, there can be no just reason why we should dissent from this opinion; and even when we shall have reduced it to its just dimensions, there will remain enough for the just admirer of Sheridan to claim for his

praise as an orator. But let the truth be said: this praise, high as is its worth, fixes no place in the standard: the test of mere effect is uncertain,—it is i composed of circumstances, of which some are extrinsic from the speaker, | and some of the nature of defects. The peculiarities of the subject may be charged with the electric matter of popular excitement—the character of the man does much-glittering ornament which it is the part of disciplined taste to reject, is often the means of attract ing the admiration of a popular assembly. The ear may be pleased with pointed sentences and flowery phrases, and when wit is anticipated, it will mostly be discovered by the crowd. A little aid from the matter, the manner, and the more genuine merits of the speaker, gives a specious support to language, which might, without such aid, appear nonsensical. To estimate the fame of this speech aright, these considerations should be applied with great caution, rather as illustrative than explanatory. “Mr. Fox used to ask, of a printed speech, does it read well?' and, if answered in the affirmative, said then it was a bad speech."" The general inference of such a dictum tends to lower the value of eloquence as a test of intellectual power. And yet it is founded on truth; the expansion of matter, the obvious and trite evidence of conceptions necessary to secure the intelligence of a popular assembly, are not consistent with the purer, or the more profound in matter, or or the more refined in style. The fewest words, and these the most exact—the closest, most compact and unencumbered chain of reason-the utmost originality of manner and conception, are merits little consistent with the flow of popular speech that admits not of pause or reflection in the hearer. It must, if regarded as composition, be either at best referred to an inferior class, or we must redeem it by another consideration which may reconcile the higher effects of oratory with the laws of perfect composition. The speeches of Demosthenes are, we think, allowed to reconcile the two seemingly opposite merits of reading well, and of having been effective in the delivery. The two principles are to be reconciled alone in that perfect simplicity of language which it only belongs to genius of the highest order to command with perfect propriety, and without sacrificing either grace or power. For, without these conditions, success is not