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ing debates ever known within their House. But the gap was filled by“Junius.” By those celebrated letters, reprinted and circulated in every possible shape, the people were made parties, in its progress, to much of what was doing in St. Stephen's; in the house itself the popular element was made of greater practical importance; the democratic spirit throughout the country was strengthened ; and, above all, the right of the newspapers to report the debates was at last secured.
Sir Henry Cavendish was member for Lostwithiel through the whole of the Parliament which met in May, 1768, and was dissolved in June, 1774, while these matters were debated. So strictly, however, was the standing order against strangers enforced during its continuance, or rather, so severely were all persons punished who ventured to make public any speeches of the members, that, with the exception of one or two by Burke and George Grenville, published by themselves, not one of the many famous efforts of the orators of the time, or indeed anything but the scantiest outline of the actual proceedings of the House, has illus. trated our parliamentary histories. Nevertheless it was known that Sir Henry Cavendish (like Sir Simonds d'Ewes in a former and yet more exciting Parliament) had taken private notes, and the publication of these we owe to the energy of the late Mr.Wright, by whom, after fifteen years' search, they were found among the Egerton MSS. of the British Museum. They filled forty-nine small quarto volumes ; contained ample notes of all the debates during the six sessions of the Parliament in question (excepting only a portion of the winter session of 1770); had been corrected and rewritten, in a great many places, by Sir Henry Cavendish himself ; and in some continued still in shorthand. Mr. Wright immediately began their publication, continued it with but moderate patronage (I fear) until two large volumes had been nearly completed, leaving the debates of the last three years a blank; and then died. More than two-thirds of these most valuable notes remain unpublished. Will no private or public society undertake to complete them ? Might they not by this time be considered sufficiently to belong to our national history to justify their publication, even by an order of the House of Commons itself? Its cost would be something less than of one reasonably sized Blue Book, and would the good sense and liberality of such a vote be quite without precedent ? 1852. No answer has been made to this appeal. 1870.
HORACE WALPOLE, hopeless of his cousin Conway for a Premier, had left politics now; but he could see those increasing intimations of an uneasy democratic spirit at which I have glanced at the close of the last chapter, and he saw them with alarm. To meet this year at the same dinnertable the Duc de Rochefoucault and Mrs. Macauley,' whose statue the rector of St. Stephen's, Walbrook, had just set up in the chancel of his church, was, to poor Horace, significant of evil. Yet when he went to Paris a month or two later, and could not get into the Louvre for the crowds that were flocking to see Madame Dubarry's portrait at the exposition, he did not seem to see evil impending there. He could only wonder that the French should adore the monarch that was starving them;' and when the Revolution did come, was ready to tear his periwig with horror. With all his professions for liberty, indeed, he never measured liberty downward. He never thought of the independence of those below him, though half his life was passed in crying out for freedom from those above him. Unhappily, also, little things and great things too often affected him, or escaped him, in exactly the same proportion, to the sad misuse of his brilliant talents; and it was with this Gray pleasantly reproached him, when, after quiet, sarcastic enjoyment of the Paris moralities, he blazed up with so much heat against poor Garrick's Stratford Jubilee. Why so tolerant of Dubarrydom and so wrathful at Vanity Fair.'
1 “She is one of the sights,” adds Walpole, “that all foreigners are carried to see.”—Letters to Mann, ii. 25.
2“I choose to be unpopular, lest I should be chosen alderman for some ward or other, and there is one just now vacant. I hope they will elect Mrs. Macauley."—Walpole to Countess Ossory, December 5, 1769. Ossory Letters (published at the close of 1848, by Mr. Vernon Smith), i. 5.
3 Coll. Lett. v. 268.
The great actors at the Jubilee in Shakespeare's honor made a three-days' wonder of it (the 6th, 7th, and 8th of September), and then came back to town. Neither Johnson nor Goldsmith had joined them; but among them were Colman, representing. his theatre, in place of poor Powell,
Such was the name Gray gave to the Jubilee ; but one of Garrick's Cambridge correspondents (Mr. J. Sharp), who reports this, is at the same time careful to tell the sensitive manager (Garrick Correspondence, i. 349) that "he spoke handsomely of your happy knack at epilogues.” In this, let me add, agreeing with Johnson, who went so far as to say that, although, of course, Dryden had written single prologues and epilogues finer than any of Garrick's, he had not written such a great number on the same level of merit as clever little Davy had managed to write. An ode, however, is not exactly an epilogue, as Garrick found, perhaps too late, while he was perpetrating his ode for the Jubilee. Connected with it is one of the pleasantest of the anecdotes of Gray, told to Mr. Rogers by “the little Fitzherbert” of whom the poet speaks so kindly (Correspondence of Gray and Mason, 443), and who became afterwards Lord St. Helens. “I came to St. John's College, Cambridge,” he said to Mr. Rogers, who repeated the anecdote to Mr. Mitford, “in 1770, and that year received a visit from Gray, having a letter of introduction to him. He was accompanied by Dr. Gisborne, Mr. Stonbewer, and Mr. Palgrave, and they walked one after one, in Indian file. When they withdrew every college man took off his cap as he passed, a considerable number having assembled in the quadrangle to see Mr. Gray, who was seldom seen. I asked Mr. Gray, to the great dismay of his companions, what he thought of Mr. Garrick's Jubilee Ode, just published ? He answered, “He was easily pleased.'”– Works, v. 183. This, at any rate, was better morality than Bishop Warburton's, who, at the very time when he was most intimate with Garrick, and in his correspondence overflowing with compliment, thus wrote to Hurd on the 23d of September, 1769 (Letters, 439): “Garrick's portentous Ode, as you truly call it, has but one line of truth in it, which is where he calls Shakespeare the God of our Idolatry: for sense I will not allow it; for that which is so highly satirical he makes the topic of his hero's encomium. The Ode itself is below any of Cibber’s. Cibber's nonsense was something like sense ; but this man's sense, whenever he deviates into it, is much more like nonsense."
who had died suddenly at Bristol two months before; Foote, laughing at everything going forward ; several of Garrick's noble friends-dukes, earls, and aristocratic beauties; and last, not least, Mr. Boswell,“ in a Corsican habit, with pistols in his belt and a musket at his back, and in the front of his cap, in gold letters, these words, PAOLI AND LIBERTY.” 1 He had written a poem for recitation at the masquerade, to which the crowd refused to listen; but he brought it up
to London, fired it off in the newspapers, and had the singular satisfaction of presenting it in person to Paoli himself, who arrived in London not many days after, and with a note from whom Bozzy had already, as we have seen, forced his way, Corsican dress and all, into the presence of the great Mr. Pitt. The patriot's struggle having ended in the defeat and absorption of Corsica, he was content to subside into a civil dangler at St. James's with a pension of a thousand a year;' and probably laughed as heartily as anybody when Boswell now appeared in a full suit of black, with “Corsica' exposed in legible letters on his hat, as the dear defunct he
1 See also Davies's Life of Garrick, ii. 226–227.
· Letters to Mann, ii. 52–53. "The court artfully adopts him, and thus crusbes one egg on which Faction, and her brood hen, Mrs. Macauley, would have been very glad to have sat.” In another letter he is still more amusing and detailed. “The opposition were ready to receive and incorporate him in the list of popular tribunes. The court artfully intercepted the project; and deeming patriots of all nations equally corruptible, bestowed a pension of £1000 a year on the unheroic fugitive. Themistocles accepted the gold of Xerxes, and excused himself from receiving a visit from Mrs. Macauley, who had given him printed advice for settling a republic. I saw him soon after his arrival, dangling at court. He was a man of decent deportment, vacant of all melancholy reflection, with as much ease as suited a prudence that seemed the utmost effort of a wary understanding, and so void of anything remarkable in his aspect that, being asked if I knew who it was, I judged him a Scottish officer (for he was sandy complexioned and in regimentals) who was cautiously awaiting the moment of promotion. All his heroism consisted in bearing with composure the accounts of his friends being tortured and butchered, while he was sunk into a pensioner of that very court that had proclaimed his valiant countrymen and associates rebels.”—Letters to Mann, iii. 386. Not the least remarkable thing about Paoli was that he afterwards became godfather to the son of the Corsican lawyer who became Emperor of France.
was in mourning for. Nor did the fit abate for some time. It was not until several months later that the old laird of Affleck (so was Auchinleck in those days familiarly called) had occasion to make his famous complaint to a friend. “There's nae hope for Jamie, mon. Jamie is gaen clean gyte. What do you think, mon? He's done wi' Paoli; he's off wi' the landlouping scoundrel of a Corsican; and whose tail do you think he has pinn'd himself to now, mon?" And here the old judge paused, to summon up a sneer of most sovereign contempt. “A dominie, mon; an auld dominie: he keeped a schủle, and cau'd it an acaadamy." But, though not yet exclusively pinned to the auld dominie's tail, Jamie so far abated his ostentatious attendance on the landlouping Corsican as to revive some of the old nights at the “Mitre," and to get up some dinners and drinking parties at his rooms in Old Bond Street. One of the dinners was fixed for the 16th of October; and the party invited were Johnson, Reynolds (now knighted as the President of the Royal Academy), Goldsmith, Garrick, Murphy, Bickerstaff, and Tom Davies.
Some days before it took place, however, an incident occurred of no small interest to that circle. One of Johnson's early acquaintances was the Italian Baretti, a man of cynical temper and overbearing manners, but also of undoubted ability, who had been useful to him at the time of the Dictionary, and whose services had never been forgotten. To Goldsmith, on the other hand, this man had made himself peculiarly hateful by all that malice in little which, on a larger field, he subsequently practised against poor Mrs. Piozzi; and they seem never to have met but to quarrel. Their mutual dislike is described by Tom Davies. “He
i Note to Boswell, v. 131.
? Johnson thus writes to Mrs. Thrale of “the tyranny of B-i”: “Poor B-il do not quarrel with him ; to neglect him a little will be sufficient. He means only to be frank and manly, and independent, and perhaps, as you say, a little wise. To be frank he thinks is to be cynical, and to be independent is to be rude. Forgive him, dearest lady, the rather because of his misbehaviors I am afraid he learned part of me.” 15th July, 1775. - Piozzi Letters, i. 277.