the "Hercules" for the Empress of Russia, that she is seriously afraid he no longer knows at all what he does to it, and that although some parts of it were once excessively fine, he has now made it worse than anything he ever did. She seemed really frightened about it, and has at least the merit of being very strongly interested about her uncle's reputation. He means it for this year's exhibition.'

Miss Palmer, Sir Joshua's niece, was quite right. The 'Hercules' was ruined by Sir Joshua's experiments, and a recent English traveller who sought for it at the Hermitage was informed that the Russian connoisseurs had consigned it to a garret. Soon afterwards, Sir Gilbert saw at Reynolds' studio the well-known portrait of his own illustrious kinsman, Lord Heathfield, who had defended the Rock of Gibraltar against the House of Bourbon, now in the National Gallery, and pronounced it, with truth, to be one of the finest portraits

extant.

'I supped at Windham's with Mrs. Siddons. There were Mr. and Mrs. Siddons, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Miss Palmer; Dudley Long; Mr. Lambton, a learned man; Mr. Malone, a dramatic critic; Mr. Metcalfe, also a scholar; and myself.

'Mrs. Siddons is very beautiful in a room, but of the strong powerful sort of beauty that reminds one of a handsome Jewess. She does not speak much, and that modestly enough, but in a slow, set, and studied sort of phrase and accent very like the most familiar passages of her acting, but still in a degree theatrical. Mr. Siddons, quite a plain, modest, well-behaved man; tall, stout, clean, and well-looking, but nothing theatrical, romantic, or witty: and his appearance not such as one would conceive the mate of the tragic muse ought to be. The rest of the company was all very pleasant, and the conversation now and then a little learned, now and then a little witty, but always perfectly natural and agreeable, and I got home between one and two.'

'April 14, 1787.

'I went yesterday to Mrs. Jordan's benefit with Mrs. Robinson. We sat in the pit all in a row. The play was "As You Like It; " Mrs. Jordan's part Rosalind, and she did it inimitably. This was a famous part of Mrs. Abington's, and I still think she gave a juster notion of the character, for with a great deal of vivacity, and all the petulance intended by the author, her manners were those of a lively gentlewoman. Whereas Mrs. Jordan, though infinitely agreeable, and charming you by the naturalness of her acting, yet does certainly now and then, and, indeed, in the general character of her manners, descend to a lower style of life, and nearer to vulgarity of tone, than is always suited to the rank of her part, or the taste of the better half of her audience.

'Mrs. Siddons spoke the epilogue, and exposed her want of all comic power and familiar easy levity. She was like the ass playing the lapdog; and though we did not wish to reject her gambols with a cudgel,

like the man in the fable, yet we all longed for the real lap-dog, Mrs. Jordan, in her place.'

One more reminiscence :

'Park Street: March 4, 1789.

'I have seen all Lady Palmerston's children, except the last. They are amazingly thriving. Even Henry, who used always to look so washy, has got quite stout, with a fine high colour. He is now a vastly pretty boy, still in petticoats, but they are measuring him for his first breeches to-day.'

Later in life, complaints were made that Harry Temple' was too sedate and wanted animal spirits. He appears to have saved them up for that period of life when most people have taken leave of theirs.

The connexion of the Princes with the leaders of the Whig party, especially during the period of the King's illness, had brought Sir Gilbert Elliot into close intimacy with both the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York. Indeed, some of the letters addressed to the King and Queen by their sons at that period were composed for them by Elliot. Perhaps this led him to take a more favourable view of their talents and character than is now common. Thus he writes::

Tuesday, June 16, 1789.

'I am at present in high favour with all the Princes. I was yesterday by appointment at Carlton House, and passed the best part of an hour alone with the Prince. The occasion of my visit was to talk over the memorial which I am writing, and to read to him what I have already done. I read to him the introductory letter to the King, and he was excessively pleased with it, expressing every now and then his approbation in a very warm and agreeable way. He made at the same time several very sensible observations, and suggested some alterations which I think perfectly judicious, and shall certainly adopt. I was very much struck with the appearance of judgment, as well as with the signs of good disposition and proper feeling, which he gave in this interview, and I will venture to say that few princes have had anything like the good or considerable qualities which both the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York possess. You will suppose me, however, not quite an impartial judge, as his manner and language to me was that of the greatest kindness and cordiality.'

Three years later, however, he had some reason to change his mind, and said, 'If anything can make a democracy in England, it will be the Royal family.' At a still later period, after the Prince's marriage and its deplorable results, Elliot was equally in favour with the Princess of Wales, who treated him with a degree of confidence which was sometimes extremely embarrassing. He describes to his wife these scenes at the little Court at Blackheath with a good deal of humour.

It is impossible for us to continue these extracts, but our readers will perceive that we are introducing them to a very vivid and amusing picture of the society of London at that time, following close upon the heels of Horace Walpole and of Boswell.

Upon the death of the Speaker, Cornewall, in January 1789, Sir Gilbert Elliot was proposed as the candidate of the Opposition for the Chair of the House of Commons. The attempt was idle, and he was defeated by a majority of 74. In June, Mr. Grenville, his successful opponent, took office, and the Chair was again vacant. Elliot was again proposed, but beaten by Mr. Addington, though by a smaller majority. Parliament itself was however dissolved in the course of the autumn of the following year, and Sir Gilbert was returned for the borough of Helstone.

6

Whilst these incidents were taking place, the French Revolution had begun its ominous course, and was producing effects not only on the political condition of France and of Europe, but on the relations of parties, on opinions throughout the world, and on the innermost convictions of every thinking man. Already in February 1790, Burke had expressed in Parliament in strong terms his horror and detestation of the democratical party in France, although at that time the burst of enthusiasm which had saluted the capture of the Bastile and the dawn of French liberty still pervaded the whole liberal party and none more than its leaders Fox and Sheridan. An attempt was made to compose these differences. But in the autumn of the same year Burke published his evermemorable Considerations on the Revolution,' which are still read by the light of an experience of eighty-three years as the most astonishing monument of his prophetic genius. No doubt they were unintelligible to the great bulk of his friends and contemporaries, who took a totally different view of the events of the day, and were utterly incapable of discerning those consequences which the great orator foreshadowed. Fox at once declared loudly against the book, both as to matter and composition. Sir Gilbert Elliot sided with Burke, though with much less passionate excitement, and indeed with deep regret; for he foresaw that it would be impossible for the most respectable and weighty portion of the Whig party to follow Fox in the opinions and politics he seemed disposed to adopt, and that the consequence would be the dissolution of the party of which the Duke of Portland was the ostensible head and Fox the champion. Burke, indeed, was moved, with the almost insane impetuosity of his nature, to the fiercest resentment against

his former friend, and sought to hurry on the catastrophe by detaching the Duke altogether from Fox. Windham was at that moment still a Foxite, though beginning (as was his wont) to be alarmed. Elliot laboured as long as possible to heal or avert the breach, and refused to surrender himself to the ascendancy of Burke. This state of hesitation lasted for a couple of years, but meanwhile the increasing violence of the Revolution in France, and the spread of revolutionary principles in England, spoke louder than all the scruples of party and friendship. The association of the Friends of the People, formed to agitate the country in favour of Reform, brought the question to a test, for it was evident that if Mr. Grey and Mr. Fox were placed in the front of this movement, Tom Paine and Horne Tooke were in the rear. Indeed Mr. Fox declined to join the association himself, though he spoke in favour of its principles. The Duke of Portland was extremely displeased with the whole proceeding, and so indeed, says Sir Gilbert, is much the greater part of his friends ' of every description.'

Pitt was not slow to take advantage of this change in the attitude of his opponents. He has sometimes been accused of an insidious desire to break up the Whig party, but we give him credit for higher motives, and we believe he wished to strengthen at such a crisis the government of the country. Sir Gilbert Elliot thus relates the transaction:

'In consequence of the part many Opposition members had taken against these novelties, Pitt desired to communicate with the Duke of Portland, telling him that he had the King's permission to do so. The Duke and he met alone. Pitt expressed his satisfaction at the disposition that had been shown by the Duke and his friends to co-operate in preserving tranquillity, and desired that an unreserved communication might take place on that one point. He then informed him of the only measure which Government had thought of maturely which is a proclamation against seditious writings and publications, and calling on the magistrates to be vigilant in suppressing any appearance of tumult if it should be necessary. This is intended to bring the matter immediately before Parliament, as the proclamation will be communicated to the Houses, and become the subject of addresses in which Parliament may express its sense on these proceedings, and show the disapprobation which all parties entertain of them. I believe this to be a good measure, as the reformers will at any rate be active on their side, and would draw many to their measures, if nothing is done to counteract them; and the notice bestowed by King and Parliament, with a general concurrence of respectable people of all descriptions, will at least induce the public to consider the subject as serious, and to deliberate well before they pledge themselves thoughtlessly to all this mischief. Pitt proposed that the principal members of Opposition

should attend the Privy Council when the proclamation was ordered, and he offered to make those Privy Councillors whom the Duke should recommend for that purpose. This was very properly declined, as it was thought that our concurrence would have more weight and do more good if any appearance of union or junction with ministry should be avoided, as it might be subject to misinterpretation.

... The Duke acquainted Fox with this communication; but he said he saw no danger to warrant any unusual measure, and declined taking any part in support of what is proposed either in Parliament or elsewhere.'

If this was the state of feeling in June 1792, what had it become in the autumn of that memorable year? The 10th of August overthrew the French monarchy, the massacres of September deluged Paris with blood, London was thronged with fugitives from the Reign of Terror, and on the 19th November the Convention proclaimed its hostility to all governments in a decree of which even Fox expressed great horror; the French armies had reached the Scheldt; the King of France was executed on the 21st January, 1793, and on the 3rd February war was declared. This question of the French Revolution,' says Elliot, has 'been gradually approaching more and more near to us, and 'has at last grown into Aaron's rod and swallowed up all the 'other business and concerns of the world.' The time for doubt and hesitation was past. Unfortunately there never was a leader less qualified to play a bold and vigorous part at such a moment than the Duke of Portland. Lady Malmesbury said of him that he was our Duke of Brunswick-no party would be led to victory by either of them. Lady Minto adds, 'he was in the most literal sense un homme drapeau, for 'when the storm raged about him, he could only flutter in the 'breeze.' To the remonstrances and demands of his friends the poor Duke could give no answer, but 'sate sobbing grievously.' Strong efforts had been made in the preceding summer to bring about a fusion of parties, and Fox had said to the Duke, 'It is so d-d right, to be sure, that I cannot help thinking it 'must be.' But the conditions proposed were that Pitt, then at the summit of power, should resign the Treasury, and consent to serve under such a man as the Duke of Portland, or the Duke of Leeds. It is really inconceivable that such a project could have been entertained, and it is not surprising that Pitt intimated that upon the whole he did not feel the emergency of the times to be so urgent as to justify him in adopting such a measure, contrary to the advice and sentiments of 'his friends;' though he spoke in the handsomest terms of Mr.