ART. IV.—THE MARQUESS WELLESLEY.

Memoirs and Correspondence of the Most Noble Richard Marquess Wellesley, &c., &c. By Robert R. Pearce, Esq. Bentley. 1846.

THOSE Who write the lives of statesmen or soldiers must always find it difficult to separate the functions of the biographer from those of the historian. The deeds of their hero belong to the historian, in virtue of their intrinsic importance, and they belong to the biographer, as manifestations of character. The difference is simply this: the historian cares nothing for individual character, except so far as that may throw light on great national transactions; the biographer cares nothing for occurrences, except so far as these may throw light on the individual character.

There are some men whose actions interest us for no other reason but because they are theirs,-because we are interested in the man, and delight to hear of anything that is characteristic of him. Such men are the true subjects of biography. In writing of such, it matters not whether the deeds to be recorded are memorable or insignificant in themselves. A life of Shakspere would be none the worse, for its dealing in paltry farmhouse or alehouse business and table-talk: a life of Milton would be none the better, for having its scenes laid in the Council-chamber of Cromwell. But such men are rare. The number of those, for whose characters we feel the true biographical interest, -an interest which merges the acts in the man,— cannot be very large. To excite such an interest, there must be some great force of intellect, some unusual gift of imagination, fancy, or passion, some remarkable goodness, some noble self-devotion,--in a word, something which it is good to know, that men may think more highly, more kindly, or more justly, of their common nature.

Now, with every respect for the merits of the Marquess Wellesley, we are not disposed to rank him with men of this class. Genius he had none: his mind was not remarkable for strength, versatility, or largeness: his virtues were not above the ordinary pitch. There is nothing in his character to dazzle the imagination, or very forcibly to

interest the heart. He was a man great by position, rather than intrinsically great. It was his fortune to act a conspicuous part, and he acted it well: but thousands, equally meritorious, pass, day after day, from the performance of equally arduous tasks, into oblivion. If the one be remembered, and the rest forgotten, it is not that his merit was greater, but that the business he was employed in was more memorable.

The work before us, then, is not so much of biographical, as of historical interest. It is valuable, chiefly for the insight which it affords us into the working of the machine of government, at home, and, still more, in India. It is history under the disguise of biography. This method of treating the subject certainly has its advantages. The professed historian, who must select a point of view from which he can survey a wide field, and represent its several parts in their due proportions, must needs stand at a distance, and lose sight of many details. The historical biographer offers us but a partial view; but then he brings us closer, and gives us a minuter and perhaps a more correct representation of that portion which lies within his range. In this respect, the value of the biography is independent of the character of its subject. We may use the mind of Lord Wellesley simply as the astronomer uses his telescope we may look through it at the objects towards which it is turned. And, this being premised, the reader will be prepared to pardon us, if, in the present notice, he shall find the Marquess himself left a little too often out of sight.

The names of Wellesley and Wesley are both sufficiently well-known; but it is not so generally known that the one is merely a corruption of the other, and that the founder of Methodism and the conqueror at Waterloo originally spelt their names alike, and were descended, not very remotely, from a common stock. It was by mere accident that the careers of these two remarkable men diverged so widely. The father of the one, and the grandfather of the other, were private gentlemen of slender fortune. The head of the house was an old man and childless; and those estates, which eventually paved the way for the advancement of the Irish branch of the family, were first offered to

a member of the English branch. The story is told in Southey's Life of Wesley.

"While Charles Wesley was at Westminster under his brother, a gentleman of large fortune in Ireland, and of the same family name, wrote to the father, and inquired of him whether he had a son named Charles; for, if so, he would make him his heir. Accordingly, his school bills, during several years, were discharged by his unseen namesake. At length a gentleman, who is supposed to have been this Mr. Wesley, called upon him, and after much conversation asked him if he was willing to accompany him to Ireland. The youth desired to write to his father before he could make answer. The father left it to his own decision; and he, who was satisfied with the fair prospects which Christ-Church opened to him, chose to stay in England. John Wesley, in his account of his brother, calls this a fair escape; the fact is more remarkable than he was aware of, for the person who inherited the property intended for Charles Wesley, and who took the name of Wellesley in consequence, was the first Earl of Mornington, grandfather of the Marquess Wellesley and the Duke of Wellington. Had Charles made a different choice, there might have been no Methodists, the British empire in India might still have been menaced from Seringapatam, and the undisputed tyrant of Europe might at this time have insulted and endangered us on our own shores."-Vol. i. pp. 10, 11.

Old Mr. Wesley seems to have found some difficulty in procuring an heir. Unlike Mr. Dickens's Chuzzlewit, whose wealth only revealed to him the baseness of his cousinhood, Mr. Wesley gained from his position a view of the brighter side of human nature. His kinsman Charles remained faithful to his career, took holy orders, and became John Wesley's most valuable auxiliary. Nor was the old man more successful in his application to the Irish family; to whom he made the same offer in favour of one of the sons, an ensign in the army. The young Irishman declared he should be ashamed to quit the army during time of war. Here the matter rested: Mr. Wesley never renewed his intercourse; and the family were left to suppose that their cadet had disinherited himself. But, when Mr. Wesley died,

it appeared from his will that the youth's conduct had only increased his esteem: he left him his scle heir. The property was extensive, and the bequest was the foundation of the prosperity of the Colley-Wesley, or, as they are now to be called, the Wellesley, family. The second heir, a man of great ability, obtained the title of Earl of Mornington; and, dying when his eldest son was just come of age, left, to the subject of this memoir, the dignity of an Irish peer, an estate deeply mortgaged, and a load of unpaid debts.

Richard Wellesley had already honourably distinguished himself at school and college. His high spirit had indeed led to his expulsion from Harrow School, by making him a ringleader in a dangerous riot; but this youthful fault had been retrieved at Eton, where he was looked upon as one of the first classical scholars of his day. His contributions to the Muse Etonenses are still read and admired by those who have a taste for such things. At Oxford, he maintained the reputation he had carried with him; and laid the foundation of those scholarly tastes and accomplishments, which were a constant source of enjoyment to him through life. Lord Brougham tells us that his friend's model in oratory was Demosthenes, and that he was familiar with the De Corona, and was accustomed to exalt that noble work of genius at the expense of the orations of Cicero.

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Lord Mornington's position naturally impelled him towards a political career. This was, in fact, the only course of life that could enable him to maintain the dignity of his title, unsupported as it was by any large hereditary fortune it was suited to his taste and capacity; it promised to gratify that thirst for distinction, which is the sure companion of academical successes; and, in those days, even more than the present, it was a career that lay levelled and smoothed for any member of the aristocracy. He soon began to speak in the Irish House of Lords, and, before long, took a conspicuous part in the debates. His early speeches, we are told, were carefully written, polished, and elaborated; and they were set off to advantage by a graceful, though at first somewhat too theatrical, delivery, and a clear and manly voice. We have his picture drawn by Sheridan, who thus describes one of his most successful

efforts :-" He remembered," said Mr. Sheridan, “ to have seen the Noble Lord, with the same sonorous voice, the same placid countenance, in the same attitude, leaning gracefully upon the table, and giving an account, from shreds and patches of Brissot, that the French republic would last but a few months longer.”—Vol. i. p. 115. The young nobleman was listened to with great favour in the House of Lords, and was soon encouraged to aspire to more than a provincial triumph. Quitting the narrow field of Irish politics, he sought a seat in the English House of Commons; and his wish, in those days of pocket boroughs, was readily gratified. Lord Mornington arrayed himself under the banner of Pitt, and soon displayed a very promising degree of ability; which his chief, who was not overburdened at that time with talented supporters, speedily rewarded with some subordinate appointments in the ministry.

Lord Mornington's first great speech in the English House of Commons, which established his reputation, is given at full length by his biographer, from a report corrected by the Earl himself. It is interesting, as the early effort of a man who afterwards became distinguished. In estimating its value, the reader must bear in mind that parliamentary speaking was in that day a very different business from what it is now. At present, the speaker addresses a somewhat business-like assembly, and also bears in mind that he is in fact speaking to the reporters and the public; he aims at influencing public opinion; and hence a certain practical style-a mode of speaking that really appeals to the understanding. Half a century ago, it is not too much to say that a parliamentary speech —unless in a very few exceptional cases-produced, and was expected to produce, no political effect whatever. No speaker hoped to gain a single vote by his arguments, and would be still less apt to think of gaining the opinions of the public; at all events, such hopes would be too faint and chimerical to influence his manner of speaking. It was not the cause, but the speaker, that was to be the gainer by the speech. Men spoke to display their talents, to gain influence, places, reputation, or popularity. Their business was to amuse or interest their hearers; and, as