question of Catholic emancipation. When he coupled those sentiments, which the right honourable gentleman had just delivered, with the circumstance of his recent accession to the administration, he felt convinced, that the right honourable gentleman would not have expressed his increased sense of the importance of a final settlement of the question, unless he had previously come to a distinct understanding on the subject with the rest of the administration; and he felt this conviction the more strongly, when he called to remembrance the very manly grounds on which the right honourable gentleman stated, some time ago, that he had declined acceding to the same administration. He hoped, therefore, that the right honourable gentleman had not delivered his sentiments on this occasion merely as a member of parliament; that, in the next session, the question would not come before the House, as usual, merely in consequence of petitions from the Catholics; but that it would be officially brought in, by those who held the most prominent place in the councils of the country, and that they would no longer have to witness that trifling which, year after year, had been displayed, of men filling the highest situations of the government holding out this as a measure of the most vital importdeclaring that no measure with regard to Ireland was likely to be attended with any good effect if it was not carried, that Ireland could not otherwise be tranquillised, and yet leaving a measure of such vital importance to the country, to be brought forward, not by themselves, but by those who could not have the same weight with themselves, and whose efforts could not, therefore, be expected to be attended with the same success."

The active part which Mr. Horner took, in so many of the questions that came before the House of Commons this session, may seem to indicate, and even to have required, when added to his increased professional occupations, a vigorous state of health. But this, unhappily, was far from being his real condition. In the two last letters to his father he speaks of being unwell, and, as usual, makes light of his complaints; his friends, however, had seen for some time, that his health required a much greater degree of care than he could be induced to bestow upon it. Symptoms of a pulmonary affection had now appeared, which gave them so much uneasiness and alarm, that they urged him to submit his case to the serious consideration of eminent medical advisers, and to yield implicit obedience to their directions. He followed this advice; but, alas! it was too late. The fatal disease could not be arrested, although it appeared in so indefinite and indistinct a form, as to encourage hopes of his recovery to the very last. But it will be seen, in what remains to be read, that the increasing feebleness of his bodily frame, during the few remaining months of existence that were allotted to him, was happily unaccompanied by even the slightest change in the vigour and activity of his mind: these never failed, but continued unimpaired to the last day of his life.

LETTER CCLXX. TO HIS MOTHER.

My dear Mother,

Oxford, 13th July, 1816.

I have had leisure enough all this week to have written to you; but when one is quite idle, there is no

time to be found. I have indeed been thoroughly idle, but pleasantly so, and quietly too. After all, I did not execute any of my schemes with Leonard, though that of coming to this place with him for a week seemed too good a project to be given up. But I found it hard to resist invitations, which I received when I gave out that I was to leave town; particularly one from Lord Buckingham, who had repeatedly asked me to Stowe, without my ever being able to go; and particular circumstances made it difficult for me to decline it this time.

I went to Woburn on Saturday last, and stayed there till Thursday: there was nobody in the house but Lord Grey's family, on their way to the north. This made it particularly agreeable to me, as I have a great admiration for Lord Grey's character, and feel much satisfaction and pleasure in his society. He passes much of his time with his daughters, riding every day with three of them; I had a pony placed at my disposal, and joined their party; the Duke riding with us, and showing us a great variety of rides, both in the park and in the country round it. This exercise, and going early to bed, and following Dr. Warren's directions about regimen, are altogether, you will admit, a powerful attack made upon my old enemy the cough; and I begin to think I have made some impression upon him.

On Thursday, I went by way of Stony Stratford, across the country, to Stowe, where I was till this afternoon. There, too, I had the good fortune to meet only a small family party. It is a very magnificent place, worthy of all its reputation; too magnificent perhaps for so quiet a company as I found there, and more suitable for a large assemblage of gaiety and grandeur, and the bustle that attends them. There is something desert

in great space and splendour, without crowds to enliven them. Nothing, I think, would exceed Stowe in a gala. The grounds are agreeably laid out, though the country admits of little variety of prospect; a great number of ornamental buildings, some of which are handsome, supply in some degree that want of objects and scenery, which gives such a sadness to all great parks, which do not let in views of the villages, and cottages, and footpaths of their humbler neighbours. The architecture of the house is very striking in its general effect, and gave me at the first moment I saw it from a distance, something like the impressions, which Versailles, and Versailles alone in the same degree, makes upon the eye. The body of the house has a front of 450 feet, and the offices extend so far in wings on each side as to make a length in all of 900 feet. There are few good pictures in the house, but some remarkable portraits; the most interesting of which is the Chandos Shakspeare. A greater treasure, is a library of 22,000 printed books for real use and modern reading; and a very valuable collection of manuscripts and state papers, which occupy a room by themselves, handsomely fitted up in the Gothic style; and which, for that reason, was described in the days of "No Popery," as the Catholic Chapel where the Grenvilles performed their superstitions.

I will write in a day or two to my father, or one of my sisters; in the mean time give my kind love to them. My dear mother,

Most affectionately yours,

FRA. HORNER.

LETTER CCLXXI. TO LADY HOLLAND.

My dear Lady Holland,

Dryden, near Edinburgh, 16th Sept. 1816.

I was unfortunate in not meeting with you in Yorkshire. I staid a day longer at Sydney Smith's for the chance of it, and then I thought there was another chance of falling in with your march between Alnwick and York. It was not till after I had been here a day or two, that I learned by a letter from Lord Grey you had remained so late at Howick that I might have seen you by calling there; I was impatient, however, to get to my father's house, and to have done with the tiresome journey.

I am living at a retired and very beautiful place seven miles from Edinburgh, where I have only been once, in the morning, since I came. The weather has been cold and disagreeable, till within these two days; after a very sudden change, it is now deliciously warm and genial. This has given me a release from coughing; but the shortness of breath is rather more incommodious than it was, which is the symptom I least understand, and like least. I am taking the advice of Drs. Thomson and Gordon, who do not alarm me much about the nature of my illness; but have imposed upon me a great many cautions against cold and fatigue.

I must expect to spend the greater part of next winter in the character of an invalid. My friends here have been very kind to me, coming from Edinburgh very frequently.

Ever yours affectionately,

FRA. HORNER.