the floor of his chamber; his face so much convulsed that his speech was almost inarticulate; a stupor hung on his senses, and one side was dead. At times he seemed to disregard what was passing around him; at others he knew those present, and recommended himself to their prayers for an easy death; expressing perfect resignation, as he perceived, he said, that his time was come, and thanking his friends for their kind offices. In this easy state of transition he lasted till the following Wednesday; and being almost incapable of swallowing, he took little nourishment and less of medicine, accepting with uneasiness any assistance, but to change bis linen, as he deemed all remedy impossible, and, but a delay of his departure; so that his friends forbore to disturb bim more than was requisite to mark that there was no neglect. "This was the end he had often wished, preceded by a short illness, and accompanied by little or no pain. He was interred in the antichapel of St. John's college with every sincere mark of respect and ceremony from the society, and an oration in his praise was pronounced over his grave by one of the fellows. "The last act of his life, his will, was consonant to the series of his actions, and breathes the same de votion, humility, charity, friendship, and candour, that had adorn. ed each period. One particularity of his last testament is too memor. able not to be singled from the rest of his legacies. One of them is to Dr. Conyers Middletou, whose principles in church and state were not only very different from those of Mr. Baker, but the doctor himself had lost the friendship of their common patron, the earl of Oxford, by being converted from the narrow and bigoted creed of those who adhered to the monkish notions of royal and ecclesiastic despotism, and who did not, like Mr. Baker, allow any toleration, nor forgive Middleton for seeing with his own eyes. Mr. Baker certainly intended no reproach to a sect, which he never quitted; but the candour of his conduct is the severest censure on every party that is intolerant. They alone who abhor toleration deserve little. They are enemies to the freedom of reli. gion, over which God alone can have any right of empire. Mr. Baker lived and died in charity with all mankind, and was perhaps the sole instance of a man who be. queathed his worldly goods to a society that ejected him, and to the ministers of a church in which he bad lost preferment." PERSON, DISPOSITION, MANNERS, &c. of SIR ROBERT WALPOLZ. [From the first Volume of Mr. COXE'S MEMOIRS of the LIFE and "ADMINISTRATION Of Sir ROBERT WALPOLE, Earl of Orford.] hend, most distinguished for his appearance. As he advanced in years he became extremely corpu. lent and unwieldy. His counte conduct. Of this disposition, his generous rival, Pulteney thought so highly, that, in a conversation with Johnson, he said, 'Sir Robert nance does not seem to have been was of a temper so calm and equal, and so hard to be provoked, nat he was very sure he never felt the bitterest invectives against him for remarkable for strong traits. The "His deportment was manly and decisive, yet affable and condescending; he was easy of access; his manner of bestowing a favour heightened the obligation; and his manner of declining was so gracious that few persons went out of his company discontented. "Among those parts of his convivial character which have attracted attention, his laugh is noticed for singular gaiety and heartiness. His son familiarly observed to me, It would have done you good to 6 "His style of dress was usually plain and simple; a circumstance which was not overlooked by the Craftsman, who thus holds him up to ridicule: There entered a man dressed in a plain habit, with a purse ' of gold in his band. He threw ' himself forward into the room in a 'bluff ruffianly manner, a smile, or rather a sneer upon his counte'nance.' His address was so trank and open, his conversation so pleas-hear him laugh.' Sir Charles Haning, and his manner so fascinating, bury Williams says of him, that he that those who lived with him in laughed the heart's laugh." Nihabits of intimacy adored him, those cholas Hardinge elegantly noticed who saw him occasionally loved its peculiarity, proprioque vincit sehim, and even his most bitter op- ria risu.' ponents could not hate him. One of these did not hesitate to say of him, 'Never was a man in private ⚫life more beloved; and his enemies ⚫ allow no man did ever in private life deserve it more. He was hu'mane and grateful, and a generous ⚫ friend to all who he did not think • would abuse that friendship. This character naturally procured that ⚫ attachment to his person, which ⚫ has been falselyattributed solely to ⚫ a corrupt influence and to private interest; but this shewed itself at a time when these principles were ⚫ very faint in their operation, and when his ruin seemed inevitable.' "Good temper and equanimity were his leading characteristics, and the placability imprinted on his countenance was not belied by his "His conversation was sprightly, animated, and facetious, yet occas sionally coarse and vulgar, and too often licentious to an unpardonable degree. "In company with women be assumed an air of gallantry, which evenin his younger days was iilsuited to his manner and character, but in his latter years was totally incompatible with his age and fgure. He affected in his conversation with the sex a trifling levity; but his gaiety was rough and Loisterous; his wit too often course and licentious. "If we may believe lord Chesterfield, who knew him well, but whose pen was dipped gall when he drew his character, this pre'vailing weakness was to be thought to have a polite and happy turn to gallantry, of which he had undoubtedly less than any man living; it was his favourite and frequent subject of conversation; which proved, to those who had any penetration, that it was his prevailing weakness, and they applied to it with success.' Pulteney also said of him, A writer who 'would tell him of his success in his amours, would gain his confidence in a higher degree than one who commended the conduct of his ad'ministration.' To this foible also a poetaster, after speaking of him under the name of sir Robert Brass, alludes: · Nay, to divert the sneering town, This foible he shared in common with many able men, and particularly with cardinal Richelieu, who piqued himself more on being a man of gallantry than on being a great minister. It is some consolation for persons of inferior abilities, that men of superior talents are not exempt from the infirmities of human nature, and it is no uncommon circumstance, to prefer flattery on those points in which we wish to excel, to just praise for those in which we are known to excel. "He is justly blamed for a want of political decorum, and for deriding public spirit, to which Pope alludes: Would he oblige me, let me only find, He does not think me what he thinks mankind.' Although it is not possible to justify him, yet this part of his conduct has been greatly exaggerated. The political axiom generally attributed to him, that all men have their price, and which has been so often repeated in verse and prose, was perverted by leaving out the word those. Flowery oratory he despised; he ascribed to the inte rested views of themselves or their relatives, the declarations of pretended patriots, of whom he said, All those men have their price,' and, in the event, many of them justified his observation. No man was more ready to honour and do justice to sincerity and consistency. He always mentioned his friend the duke of Devonshire in terms of the highest affection and respect, and even applauded the uniform conduct of one of bis constant opponents. I will not say,' he observ ed, who is corrupt, but I will say 'who is not, and that is Suppen." "His own conduct sufficiently belied the axiom erroneously imputed to him, He was consistent and uniform, never deviating in ment to the protestant succession. one single instance from his attachHe was neither awed by menaces or swayed by corruption; he held one line of conduct with unabating perseverance, and terminated his political career with the same sentiments of loyalty which distin guished his outset. even prodigal. His buildings at "He was naturally liberal, and Houghton were more magnificent drew on him great obloquy. He than suited his circumstances, and felt the impropriety of this expen diture, and on seeing his brother's house at Wolterton, expressed bis wishes that he had contented himself with a similar structure. The following anecdote also shews that he regretted his profusion: sitting by Sir John Hynde Cotton, during the reign of queen Anne, and in allu allusion to a sumptuous house which was then building by Harley; he observed, that to construct a great house was a high act of imprudence in any minister. Afterwards, when he had pulled down the family mansion at Houghton, and raised a magnificent edifice, being reminded of that observation by sir John Hynde Cotton, he readily acknowledged its justness and truth, but added, Your recollection. is too late, I wish you had reminded me of it before I began building, it might then have been of service ' to me.' "His style of living was consonant to the magnificence of his mansion. He had usually two aunual meetings at Houghton; the one in the spring, to which were invited only the most select friends and the leading members of the cabinet, continued about three weeks. The second was in autumn, towards the commencement of the shooting season. It continued six weeks or two months, and was called the congress. At this time Houghton was filled with company from all parts. He kept a public table, to which all gentlemen in the county found a ready admission. "The expences of these meetings have been computed at 3000l. Nothing could be more ill-judged than the enormous profusion, except the company for which it was made. The mixed multitude consisted of his friends in both houses, and of their friends. The noise and uproar, the waste and confusion, were prodigious. The best friends of sir Robert Walpole in vain remonstrated against this scene of riot and misrule. As the minister himself was fond of mirth and jollity, the conviviality of their meetings was too frequently carried to excess, and lord Townshend, whose dignity of deportment and decorum of character revolted against these scenes, which he called the Bacchanalian orgies of Houghton, not unfrequently quitted Rainham during their continuance. But notwithstanding these censures, and the impropriety of such conduct, it undoubtedly gained and preserved to the minister uumerous adherents, who applauded a mode of living so analogous to the spirit of ancient hospitality. "This profusion would have been highly disgraceful had it been attended with a rapacious disposition. On the contrary, he gave many instances of carelessness and disregard of his private fortune. He expended 14,000l. in building a new lodge in Richmond park; and when the king, on the death of Bothmar, in 1738, offered him the house in Downing-street, he refused it as his own property, but accepted it as an appendage to the office of chancellor of the exchequer. "He was, from his early youth, fond of the diversions of the field, and retained this taste till prevented by the infirmities of age. He was accustomed to hunt in Richmond park with a pack of beagles. Ou receiving a packet of letters he usually opened that from his game. keeper first; and he was fond of sitting for his picture in his sporting dress. He was, like chancellor Oxenstiern, a sound sleeper, and used to say, that he put off his cares with his clothes.' 66 His social qualities were generally acknowledged. He was animated and lively in conversation, and in the moment of festivity realised the fine eulogium which Pope has given of him.` • Seen • Seen him, I have, but in his happier hour Of social pleasure, ill-exchang'd for power; Seen, him uncumber'd with the venal tribe, Smile without art, and win without a bribe.' Epilogue to the SATIRES. "To the virtues of sir Robert Walpole I feel regret in not being able to add that he was the patron of letters and the friend of science. But he unquestionably does not deserve that honourable appellation, and in this instance his rank in the temple of fame is far inferior to that of Halifax, Oxford, and Bolingbroke. It is a matter of wonder, that a minister who had received a learned education, and was no indifferent scholar, should have paid such little attention to the muses. Nor can it be denied, that this neglect of men of letters was highly disadvantageous to his administration, and exposed him to great obloquy. The persons employed in justifying his measures, and repelling the attacks of the opposition, were by no means equal to the task of combating Pulteney, Bolingbroke, and Chesterfield, those Goliahs of opposition; and the political pamphlets written in his defence, are far inferior in humour, argument, and style, to the publi cations of his adversaries. "Pope has ably satirised the herd of political writers employed by the minister, first in the epilogue to the Satires, and in the Dunciad. • Next plung'd a feeble, but a desperate pack, With each a sickly brother at his back: Sons of a day! just buoyant on the flood, These number'd with the puppies in the mud, Ask ye their names? I could as soon disclose Fast by, like Niobè, (her children gone) "But that he did not wholly neglect literary merit, appears from the grateful strains of the author of the Night Thoughts, for whom he procured a pension from George at his suggestion by George the the first, and which was increased second, to 2001. a year, at that time no inconsiderable reward. At this the muse shall kindle, and aspire: My breast, O Walpole, glows with grateful fire; The streams of royal bounty, turn'd by Refresh the dry remains of poesy. What slender worth forbids us to despair : 'Twas meant for merit, though it fell on me.' "The truth is, sir Robert Walpole did not delight in letters, and always considered poets as not men of business. He was often heard to say, that they were fitter for speculation than for action, that they trusted to theory rather than to experience, and were guided by principles inadmissible in practical life. His opinion was confirmed by the experience of his own time. Prior made but an indifferent negotiator; his friend Steele was wholly incapable of application, and Addison a miserable secretary of state. He was so fully impressed with these notions, that when he made Congreve commissioner of the customs, he said, 'You will find he has no ⚫ head for business. The names of these blind puppies as of by government, and profusely paid, those. "Low persons were employed some of whom not unfrequently propagated |