jokes and stories; there, into weighty aphorisms and potent an titheses. One page is filled with vulgar idiom and ungrammatical familiarity; and another teems with more classical allusions,, than would serve to season a whole quarto of parliamentary orations. The ingenious author, in short, has never hit, by any accident, upon the proper tone for impressive narrative, or important discussion; but is perpetually carried away, by ambition, or carelessness, or vivacity of temper, or deficiency of taste, into all sorts of strange and contradictory excesses. To our colder temperaments, a good deal of this appears strained and unnatural; but, to an Irishinan, it is very probably natural enough; and indeed, the whole work bears more resem blance to the animated and versatile talk of a man of generous feelings and excitable imagination, than the mature production of an author who had diligently corrected. his manuscript for the press, with the fear of the public before his eyes. There is a spirit about the work, howeyer,-independent of the spirit of candour and indulgence of which we have already spoken,-which redeems many of its faults; and, looking upon it in the light of a memoir by an intelligent contemporary, rather than a regular history or profound dissertation, we think that its value will not be injured by a comparison with any work of this description that has been recently offered to the public.

The part of the work which relates to Lord Charlemont individually, though by no means the least interesting, at least in its adjuncts and digressions,-may be digested into a very short summary. He was born in Ireland in 1728; and received a private education under a succession of preceptors, of various merit and assiduity. In 1746 he went abroad, without having been either at a public school or an university; and yet appears to have been earlier distinguished, both for scholarship and polite manners, than most of the ingenuous youths that are turned out by these celebrated seminaries. He remained on the Continent no less than nine years; in the course of which, he extended his tra vels to Greece, Turkey and Egypt; and formed an intimate and friendly acquaintance with the celebrated historian David Hume, whom he met both at Turin and Paris-the President Montesquieu-the Marchese Maffei-Cardinal Albani-Lord Rockingham-the Duc de Nivernois-and various other eminent persons. He had rather a dislike to the French national character; though he admired their literature, and the general politeness of their manners.

In 1755 he returned to his native country, at the age of 28; an object of interest and respect to all parties, and to all individuals of consequence in the kingdom. His intimacy with Lord VOL. XIX. No. 37.

G

John

John Cavendish naturally difposed him to be on a good footing with his brother, who was then Lord Lieutenant; and the • outset of his politics, as he has himself observed, gåve reason to suppose that his life would be much more courtly than it proved to be. The first scene of profligacy and court intrigue, however, which he witnessed, determined him to act a more manly part to be a Freeman,' as Mr Hardy says, ' in the purest sense of the word, opposing the court or the peo•ple indiscriminately, whenever he saw them adopting erroneous or mischievous opinions.' To this resolution, his biographer adds, that he had the virtue and firmness to adhere and the consequence was, that he was uniformly in opposition to the court for the long remainder of his life!

Though very regular in his attendance on the Irish Parliament, he always had a house in London, where he passed a good part of the winter, till 1773; when feelings of patriotism and duty induced him to transfer his residence almost entirely to Ireland The polish of his manners, however, and the kindness of his disposition,-his taste for literature and the arts, and the unsuspected purity and firmness of his political principles, had before this time secured him the friendship of almost all the distinguished men who adorned England at this period. With Mr Fox, Mr Burke, and Mr Beauclerk-Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr Johnson, Sir William Chalmers--and many others of a similar character-he was always particularly intimate. During the Lieutenancy of the Earl of Northumberland, in 1772, he was, without any solicitation, advanced to the dignity of an Earl; and was very much distinguished and consulted during the short period of the Rockingham administration;-though neither at that time, nor at any other, invested with any official situation. In 1768, he married; and in 1780, he was chosen General of the Irish Volunteers, and conducted himself in that delicate and most important command, with a degree of temper and judgment, liberality and firmness, which we have no doubt contributed, more than any thing else, both to the efficacy and the safety of that most perilous but necessary experiment. The rest of his history is soon told. He was the early patron, and the constant friend of Mr Grattan ; and was the means of introducing the celebrated Single-Speech Hamilton to the acquaintance of Mr Burke. Though very early disposed to relieve the Catholics from a part of their disabilities, he certainly was doubtful of the prudence, or propriety, of their more recent pretensions. He was from first to last a zealous, active and temperate advocate for parliamentary reform. He was averse to the Legislative Union with Great Britain.

He

He was uniformly steady to his principles, and faithful to his friends; and seems to have divided the latter part of his life pretty equally between those elegant studies of literature and art by which his youth had been delighted, and those patriotic duties to which he had devoted his middle age. The sittings of the Irish Academy, over which he presided from its first foundation, were frequently held at Charlemont House;—and he al ways extended the most munificent patronage to the professors of art, and the kindest indulgence to youthful talents of every description. His health had declined gradually from about the year 1790; and he died in August 1799,-esteemed and regretted by all who had had any opportunity of knowing him, in public or in private, as a friend or as an opponent.-Such is the sure reward of honourable sentiments, and mild and steady principles !

To this branch of the history belongs a considerable part of the anecdotes and characters with which the book is enlivened; and, in a particular manner, those which Mr Hardy has given, in Lord Charlemont's own words, from the private papers and memoirs which have been put into his hands. His Lordship appears to have kept a sort of journal of every thing interesting that befel him through life, and especially during his long resi dence on the Continent. From this document Mr Hardy has made copious extracts, in the earlier part of his narrative; and the general style of them is undoubtedly very creditable to the noble author;-a little tedious, perhaps, now and then, and gene rally a little too studiously and maturely composed, for the pri vate memoranda of a young man of talents ;-but always in the style and tone of a gentleman, and with a character of rationality, and calm indulgent benevolence, that is infinitely more pleasing than sallies of sarcastic wit, or periods of cold-blooded speculation.

One of the first characters that appears on the scene, is our excellent countryman, the celebrated David Hume, whom Lord Charlemont first met with at Turin, in the year 1750:-and of whom he has given an account rather more entertaining, we believe, than accurate. We have no doubt, however, that it re cords with perfect fidelity the impression which he then received from the appearance and conversation of that distinguished philosopher. But, with all our respect for Lord Charlemont, we cannot allow a young Irish Lord, on his first visit at a foreign court, to have been precisely the person most capable of appretiating the value of such a man as David Hume ;-and though there is a great fund of truth in the following observations,

G 2

servations, we think they illustrate the character and condition of the person who makes them, fully as much as that of him to whom they are applied.

Nature, I believe, never formed any man more unlike his real character than David Hume. The powers of physiognomy were baffled by his countenance; neither could the most skilful, in that science, pretend to discover the smallest trace of the faculties of his mind, in the unmeaning features of his visage. His face was broad and fat, his mouth wide, and without any other expression than that of imbecility. His eyes, vacant and spiritless; and the corpulence of his whole person was far better fitted to communicate the idea of a turtle-eating alderman, than of a refined philosopher. His speech, in English, was rendered ridiculous by the broadest Scotch accent; and his French was, if possible, still more laughable; so that wisdom, most certainly, never disguised herself before in so uncouth a garb. Though now near fifty years old, he was healthy and strong; but his health and strength, far from being advantageous to his figure, instead of manly comeliness, had only the appearance of rusticity. His wearing an uniform added greatly to this natural awkwardness; for he wore it like a grocer of the trained bands. Sinclair was a Lieutenant-general, and was sent to the courts of Vienna and Turin as a military envoy, to see that their quota of troops was furnished by the Austrians and Piedmontese. It was therefore thought necessary that his secretary should appear to be an officer; and Hume was accordingly disguised in scarlet.

Having thus given an account of his exterior, it is but fair that I should state my good opinion of his character. Of all the philosophers of his sect, none, I believe, ever joined more real benevólence to its mischievous principles, than my friend Hume. His love "to mankind was universal, and vehement; and there was no service he would not cheerfully have done to his fellow-creatures, excepting only that of suffering them to save their souls in their own way. He was tender-hearted, friendly, and charitable in the extreme. p. 8, 9.

His Lordship then tells a story in illustration of the philosopher's benevolence, which we have no other reason for leaving -out--but that we know it not to be true; and concludes a little -dissertation on the pernicious effects of his doctrines, with the following little anecdote; of the authenticity of which also, we should entertain some doubts, did it not appear likely to have fallen within his own personal knowledge.

He once professed himself the admirer of a young, most beau tiful, and accomplished lady, at Turin, who only laughed at his -passion. One day he addressed her in the usual common-place strain, that he was abimé, anéanti." Oh! pour anéanti,” replied the lady, ce n'est en effet qu'une operation très naturelle de vôtre Systéme."

P. 10.

The

The following passages are from a later part of the journal: but indicate the same turn of mind in the observer.

Hume's fashion at Paris, when he was there as Secretary to Lord Hertford, was truly ridiculous; and nothing ever marked, in a more striking manner, the whimsical gerus of the French. No man, from his manners, was surely less formed for their society, or less likely to meet with their approbation; but that flimsy philosophy which pervades and deadens, even their most licentious novels, was then the folly of the day. Freethinking and English frocks were the fashion, and the Anglomanie was the ton du pais. From what has been already said of him, it is apparent that his conversation to strangers, and particularly to Frenchmen, could be little delightful; and still more particularly, one would suppose, to Frenchwomen. And yet, no lady's toilette was complete without Hume's attendance. At the opera, his broad, unmeaning face was usually seen entre deux jolis minois. The ladies in France give the ton, and the ton was deism; a species of philosophy ill suited to the softer sex, in whose delicate frame weakness is interesting, and timidity a charm. But the women in France were deists, as with us they were charioteers. How my friend Hume was able to endure the encounter of these French female Titans, I know not. In England, either his philosophic pride, or his conviction that infidelity was ill suited to women, made him perfectly averse from the initiation of ladies into the mysteries of his doctrine.' p. 121, 122.

Nothing, adds his Lordship, in another place,

ever showed a mind more truly beneficent than Hume's whole conduct with regard to Rousseau. That story is too well known to be repeated; and exhibits a striking picture of Hume's heart, whilst it displays the strange and unaccountable vanity and madness of the French, or rather Swiss moralist. When first they arrived together from France, happening to meet with Hume in the Park, I wished him joy of his pleasing connexion; and particularly hinted, that I was convinced he must be perfectly happy in his new friend, as their sentiments were, I believed, nearly similar. Why no, man,' said he, in that you are mistaken. Rousseau is not what you think him; he has a hankering after the Bible, and, indeed, is little better than a Christian, in a way of his own.

p. 120.

In London, where he often did me the honour to communicate the manuscripts of his additional Essays, before their publication, I have sometimes, in the course of our intimacy, asked him, whether he thought that, if his opinions were universally to take place, mankind would not be rendered more unhappy than they now were; and whether he did not suppose, that the curb of religion was necessary to human nature? The objections, ' answered he, " are not without weight; but error never can produce good; and truth ought to take place of all considerations. ' He never failed, indeed, in the midst of any controversy, to give its due praise to every thing tolerable that was either said or written against him. His sceptical

G 3

turn