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fame fovereign: and, in gratitude to them, as well as to our fovereign, we are obliged to protect them; becaufe they maintain 20 or 30,000 good troops, which have always, without any fubfidy, been, and always will be, at our command, when we have occafion for them; which must give us a greater weight at all the courts upon the continent, than we could expect, had we no fuch body of troops at our command. As to the gratitude we owe his Majefty, I was glad to hear it acknowledged by the Noble Lord who spoke laft; but I was furprised to hear him doubt of his Majefty's defiring to have his people in Hanover protected. To doubt of it, cannot furely be any compliment to his Majefty; and it is certain, that they cannot be protected against France without our affiftance. But no one can doubt of his Majefty's defiring our affiftance for this purpose: I fay, no one who has read his most gracious anfwer to our addrefs, at the beginning of this feffion [xvii. 531.], or who confiders his ftrong defire to fee his people happy in every part of his extenfive dominions.

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of a war upon the continent, and, on this account, I hope it will be allowed, that thefe treaties deferve the applause, not the cenfure, of this judicious and au guft affembly.

I fhall agree with the Noble Lord in thinking, that these two treaties may propagate an opinion in Europe, that this nation will not allow the electorate of Hanover to be unjustly attacked. But I am fo far, Sir, from thinking, that this opinion will be attended with any inconvenience to this nation, or to Hanover, that I believe it will fecure the tranquillity of both for as every nation in Europe must be convinced, that we will never fupport Hanover in an unjust attack upon any of its neighbours, we fhall always be able to have a fufficient alliance upon the continent for the defence of Hanover, as well as any other ally; and if, for this purpose, it fhould ever become neceffary for us to engage in a war upon the continent, I have the pleafure to think, that we fhould be able to fupport that war longer than any nation in Europe could fupport itself against us; as our commerce may, by proper management, be made more extenfive in time of war, than it can be in time of peace; and as I do not think that our public credit would be in any danger, fhould we run as much in debt by a new war as we did by the laft; and every one knows, that notwithftanding the bad conduct of fome of our allies, and notwithstanding Spain's being united with France against us, yet at laft we made France glad to give up every thing it had conquered during the war: therefore our refolution to defend Hanover against any unjust attack, will never make France think of extorting a. ny unjust conceffions from this nation, by threatening to invade Hanover; because a war upon the continent, in which this nation is heartily engaged, will always be of more dangerous confequence to France than it can be to us; and if France ne

After having thus fhewn, Sir, that we are obliged in honour, in gratitude, and by alliance, to protect the people of Ha-, nover against any invasion from France, I think it will be easy to fhew what we ought to do in common prudence; for it can never be confiftent with common prudence, for a nation to neglect fuch indifpenfable duties. And after the two interdictions mentioned by the Noble Lord who fpoke laft, we have good reafon to hope, that our fulfilling these duties will be attended with no great expence; for the French, I believe, will not think of invading Hanover, after both the court of Vienna, and the King of Pruffia, have declared, that they will not fuffer any foreign troops to enter Germany. But I muft obferve, that neither of these declarations was made, until after both the treaties now before us were concluded; and I may fay,`ver thinks of any fuch attempt, I believe that these treaties were perhaps the oc- no one fuppofes that any other nation in cafion of both thefe declarations: con- Europe will. fequently I may say, that by these two treaties we have prevented the poffibility

As to the objection, Sir, That thefe treaties may have been made with an of

fenfive

fenfive view; the contrary is fo plainly declared in that with Ruffia, that no fuch thing can be fuppofed; for it is exprefsly declared, That the troops and gallies thereby ftipulated, shall not be put in activity, but in cafe his Britannic Majefty, or fome of his allies, fhould be attacked. And the reafon why no fuch exprefs provifion was inferted in the treaty with Heffe, was, because it may be necessary to bring those troops over to this king. dom, even before any hoftilities fhall be committed, in order that we may spare to fend a body of our own troops to America.

eriod, laftly, Sir, as to the objection made, as if these treaties were inconfiftent with our conftitution, because, it is faid, they ought not to have been made without the previous confent of parliament; this is, I confefs, quite a new fort of doctrine to me; for I always thought, that, by our conftitution, the King has the fole power of making treaties of every kind, provided there is nothing in them contrary to the ftanding laws of the kingdom. But of late years fome great politicians amongst us have been very apt to form Utopian fchemes, and then declare them to be parts of our conftitution, though they never exifted any where but in their chimerical noddles, and this I take to be the cafe with refpect to the pretence now fet up for the King is not obliged, by our conftitution, to afk either the confent or approbation of parliament to any treaty he makes; nor even to communicate it to parliament, unless it requires a grant, or an act of parliament; and even then he is obliged to communicate the treaty, only when he applies for the grant or the act thereby required.

As I have now, Sir, answered every feeming objection that has been started against these treaties; and as I have fhewn, that they must tend rather to prevent, than to be the cause of our being engaged in a war upon the contiment; I must therefore of courfe give my negative to the Noble Lord's motion; and I hope I fhall have the concurrence of a great majority of this houfe. [This Journal to be continued.]

GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE.

Mr URBAN,

TH

HE inclofed manufcript character, written by the then Duke of Buckingham and Earl of Mulgrave, was found among the papers of the late Mr Sheffield; and, I believe, has never been printed. Yours, &c. J. T------S.

A short character of Charles II. King of England; fetting forth his untimely death, &c. By the Earl of Mulgrave, in 1688. Communicated by M. L.

Have pitched on this character of K, Charles, not for his being a king or my having had the honour to serve him. The firft of thefe would be too vulgar a confideration, and the other too particular. But I think it a theme of great variety; and whatever is wanting in the writer, may, I hope, be recompenfed in the agreeableness of the fubject; which is fometimes enough to recommend a picture, though ill drawn, and to make a face one likes, more looked on than the best piece of Raphael,

To begin then, according to custom, with his religion, which fince his death has made so much noise in the world; I yet dare confidently affirm it to have been only that which is vulgarly, though unjustly, counted none at all; I mean, Deifm. And this uncommon opinion he owed more to the liveliness of his parts, and the careleffness of his temper, than either to reading or much confideration for the quickness of his apprehenfion, at firft view, could difcern through the feveral cheats of pious pretences; and his natural laziness con firmed him in an equal mistrust of them all, for fear he fhould be troubled with examining which was beft.

If in his early travels, and late defigns, he feemed a little biaffed to one fort of religion; the first is only to be imputed to a certain eafinefs of temper, and complaifance to the company he was then forced to keep; and the last was no more than his being tired (which he foon was in any difficulty) with those bold oppofitions in parliament, which made him almoft throw himself into the

arms

arms of a Roman-Catholic party, fo remarkable of late for their loyalty; who embraced him gladly, and lulled him afleep with thofe inchanting fongs of fovereignty and prerogative, which the best and wifeft princes are unable to refift.

And tho' he engaged himself on that fide more fully at a feafon when it is in vain and too late to diffemble; we ought the less to wonder at it, when we confider our very judgments are apt to grow, in time, as partial as our affections; and that by accident he became of their opinion in his weakness, who had fo much endeavoured always to contribute to his power.

He loved eafe and quiet; to which his unneceffary wars are fo far from be, ing a contradiction, that they are rather a proof of it; fince they were only made to comply with those persons whofe dif. affection would have proved more un easy to one of his humour, than all that diftant noise of cannon, which he would often liften to with a great deal of tranquillity. Befides, the great and almost only pleasure of mind he appeared addicted to, was fhipping and fea-affairs, which feemed to be so much his talent, both for knowledge and inclination, that a war of that kind was rather an entertainment than a disturbance to his thoughts.

If he did not go himfelf at the head of fo magnificent a fleet, it is only to be imputed to that eagerness of military glory in his brother, which, under the Thew of a decent care for preferving the royal perfon from danger, ingroffed all that fort of honour to himself, with as much jealousy of any other's interpofing, as a king of another temper would have had of his. It is certain, no prince was ever more fitted by nature for his Country's intereft, than he was in all his maritime inclinations; which might have proved of fufficient advantage to the nation, if he had been as careful in depreffing all fuch improvements in France, as of advancing and encouraging our own. But it seems he wanted jealoufy in all his inclinations. Which leads us to confider him in his pleasures.

In these he was rather abandoned than luxurious, and, like our female libertines, apter to be perfuaded into debauches for the fatisfaction of others, than to feek with choice where to please himself. I am of opinion also, that in his latter times there was as much of lazinefs as of love in all thofe hours he paff ed among his mistreffes; who, after all, only ferved to fill his feraglio; while a bewitching kind of pleasure, called faun tering and talking without any restraint, was the true fultana queen he delighted in.

He was furely inclined to juftice; for nothing else would have retained him fo faft to the fucceffion of a brother, against a fon whom he was fo fond of, and the humour of a party which he so much feared. I am willing alfo to impute to his juftice whatever feems in fome mea fure to contradict the general opinion of his clemency; as his fuffering always the rigour of the law to proceed, not only against highwaymen, but also several others, in whofe cafes the lawyers, according to their wonted cuftom, had ufed fometimes a great deal of hardship and feverity.

A

His understanding was quick and live, ly in little things, and fometimes would foar high in great ones; but unable to keep up with any long attention or application witty in all forts of converfation, and telling a story fo well, that, not out of flattery, but for the pleasure of hearing it, we used to feem ignorant of what he had told us ten times before; as a good comedy will bear the being often feen, ********* wonderful mixture! lofing all his time, and fetting all his heart on the fair fex; yet neither angry with rivals, nor in the leaft nice as to the being beloved. And while he facrificed all things to his miftreffes, he would ufe to grudge and be uneafy if they loft a little of it again at play, though never so necessary for their diverfion; nor would he venture five pounds at tennis to thofe fervants who might obtain as many thousands either before he came thither, or as foon as he left off.

Full of diffimulation, and very adroit

at

at it; yet no man easier to be impofed on; for his great dexterity was in cozening himself, by gaining a little one way, whilst it coft him ten times as much another; and by careffing thofe perfons moft, who had deluded him the oftenett; and yet the quickeft in the world for fpying fuch a ridicule in another. Eafy and good-natured to all people in trifles, but in great affairs fevere and inflexible; in one week's abfence for getting thofe fervants, to whofe faces he could hardly deny any thing.

In the midst of all his remiffness, fo induftrious and indefatigable on fome particular occafions, that no man could be able to toil longer, or be able to manage better.

He was fo liberal as to ruin his affairs by it; for want in a King of England turns things upfide down, and expofes a prince to his people's mercy. It did yet worse in him; for it forced him to depend on his great neighbour of France; who played the brother with him fufficiently in all thofe times of extremity. Yet this profufenefs of his did not fo much proceed from his undervaluing any fums of money he did not fee. But he found his error in this, though I confefs fomewhat of the lateft.

He had fo natural an averfion to all formality, with as much wit as moft men ever had, and as majestic a mien, that he could not on premeditation act the part of a king for a moment, either in parliament or council, in words or geftures; which carried him to the other extreme, more inconvenient for a prince of the two, of letting all diftinction and ceremony fall to the ground, as ufelefs and foppish.

His temper both of body and mind was admirable, which made him an eafy generous lover, a civil obliging hufband, a friendly brother, an indulgent father, and a good-natured mafter. If he had been as folicitous about improving the faculties of his mind, as he was in the managing of his bodily health, (though, alas! this proved unable to make his life long), that had not failed to have made it famous. He was an illuftrious exception to all the common

rules of phyfiognomy: for with a moft faturnine harfh fort of countenance, he was both of a merry and merciful difpo fition; and the laft thirty years of his life were as fortunate, as thofe of his fa ther had been difmal and tumultuous.

If his death had fome appearance of being untimely, it may be partly impu ted to his extreme healthy conftitution. which made the world as much furpri fed at his dying before fixty, as if no thing but an ill accident could have killa ed him. I would not fay any thing on fo bad a fubject, if I did not think filence itfelf would in fuch a cafe fignify too much; and therefore, as an impartial writer, I am obliged to obferve, that I am affured the moft knowing of his phyficians did not only believe him poifoned, but thought himself so too, not long after, for having declared his opinion too boldly.

But here I muft needs take notice of an unufual piece of juftice, which yet all the world has almost unanimously agreed in; I mean, in not fufpecting his fucceffor of the least share in fo horrid a villany. And perhaps there never was a more remarkable instance of the wonderful power of truth and innocence; for it is next to a miracle, that fo unfortunate a prince, in the midst of all those difadvantages he lies under, fhould yet be cleared of this by his greatest enemies, notwithstanding all thofe circumftances that use to give fufpicion, and that extreme malice which has of late attended him in all his actions.

On ECHARD's and Bishop BURNET's Hiftories.
G'
IL's history appears to me
Political anatomy;

A cafe of skeletons well done,
And malefactors every one.
His harp and strong incision-pen,
Hiftorically cuts up men,

And does, with lucid fkill, impart,
Their inward ails of head and heart.

Laurence proceeds another way,
And well-drefs'd figures does display,
His characters are all in flesh,

Their hands are fair, their faces fresh;
And from his fwcet'ning art derive
A better fcent than when alive;
He waxwork made to please the fons,
Whofe fathers were Gil's fkeletons.

MATTHEW GREEN

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The clouds of mild evʼning array'd in pale blue, While the fun-beams behind them peep'd glittering through;

Tho' to rival her charms they can never arife, Yet, methought, they look'd fomething like Calia's fweet eyes.

Thefe beauties are tranfient, but Celia's will laft, When spring, and when fummer, and autumn are paft;

For tenfe and good humour no feafon difarms,
And the foul of my Calia enlivens her charms.
At length, on a fruit-tree a bloffom I found,
Which beauty difplay'd, and fhed fragrance a-
round;

I then thought the mufes had fmil'd on my pray'r,
This bloffom, I cry'd, will refemble my fair!
Thefe colours fo gay, and united fo well,
This delicate texture and ravishing smell,
Be her perfon's fweet emblem! but where fhall
In nature a beauty that equals her mind! (I find
This bloffom fo pleafing, at fummer's gay call,
Muft languish at fift, and muft afterwards fall;
But behind it the fruit, its fucceffor, fhall rife,
By nature difrob'd of its beauteous disguise.
So Calia, when youth, that gay blossom, is o'er,
By her virtues improv'd, shall engage me the more;
Shall recall every beauty that brighten'd her prime,
When her merit is ripen'd by love and by time,
Lond. Chron.
G. R.

On STUDY.

Ree from the dull impertinence of chat,

And idle inftances of this and that;

Free from the smart focieties of wit,
And coxcombs laughing at their own concit;
Free from the graver topics of the gown,
The lawyer's quibble, and the zealot's frown;
My book I court, and from the filent page,
Imbibe the wisdom of the faint and fage.

Pleas'd I review the firft records of time,
The most authentic, and the most fublime.
With heav'n's almighty fiat I begin,
And view its image, yet untaught to fin.
Next fin its dire contagion fpreading wide,
When by one death fucceeding ages dy’d.
The plan of heav'n with wonder I pursue,
Till the old work ftands finifh'd in the new;
Till life by One fucceeding ages gain,
And Satan plots to curfe the world in vain.
With rev'rence clos'd, from facred books I turn,
And what the schools of fcience taught, I learn.
I enter oft the rigid Samian school,
In filence ftudy, and fubmit to rule;

Revolve each weighty matter in my breast,
And learn, before I atter, to digeft;
Review each day th' improvements I have made,
Nor care to speak, till able to perfuade.

Anon I feek in hist'ry diff'rent scenes,
And active fancy mighty chiefs convenes.
While fwoln tumultuous Rubicon gives way.
Here Cafar ftrikes me with triumphant sway,
Here the Boyne reddens, deep with gore diftain'd,
Where Belgic William vict'ry's laurel gain'd.
I mufe reflective on the dread record,
And try the juftice of the victor's fword.

Now with new joy my Tully I review, Who utters all his eloquence anew. At once my judgment by his art is caught, His nervous style, his energy of thought: His pow'rful tongue ftill Cafar's wrath reftrains, And still unrival'd o'er each heart he reigns.

Oft as I please to Pindus I repair; Say, O ye muses! how transported there! Old Homer, mounting on his daring fwan, Exalts my foul, and makes me more than man. The Mantuan bard with greater caution tries, To mount, and gains, by flow degrees, the skies. Arms and the man diviner thoughts infufe, And pious greatnefs fanctifies the muse. At leifure now he calls us to the plain, To sport with shepherds, or with them complain: Now in his page the various feasons rife ; Here fwains and flocks are fcorch'd by fummer's Here winter cafts its horrors wide around, (skies; And ftagnant streams in icy chains are bound.

Thus let me ftill my mind's whole ftrength And view the past with retrospective eye; (apply, Make all the labour of whole ages mine, Content, if bright, with borrow'd rays to shine.

(arts,

To Miftrefs A- -T of PD. Ong in the busy fcenes of active life Immers'd,-n -nor mindful of the beauteous That whilom pleas'd my thoughts, and tun'd my fong,

As love or friendship warm'd the joyous heart,
What charm can loofe the fetter'd mufe? what
Wake into life the long-neglected lyre, (theme
And tune to melody the vocal ftring?
Now Youth is filed, and Beauty charms no more:
But though not Beauty, Virtue can inspire.
Time's direful feythe the flower of Beauty crops,
But Virtue ftrength and vigour gains from Time.
What though the rofe that bloom'd in Chloe's cheek,
The fire that sparkl❜d in that piercing eye,
No more alarm? yet Chloe's matchlefs fenfe
Improves, and brightens, as the years roll on.
Come then, dear nymph, with Virtue in thy
For Virtue ever prefent guides thy fteps; train,
Come then, dear nymph, and harmonise my song,
For Harmony with thee for ever dwells;
Come, and unfold the volume of thy life,
That I may copy the instructive page,
And teach thy fex the paths they ought to tread,
Manfe of E- -n,
July 19.1757.

Unfinished.

Edinburgh,

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