tion of abilities, yet he had sunk under the talents, and still more under the integrity, of Chatham. But if Fox derived some stain from his parentage, his own conduct seemed not likely to remove the blot; and while men adinired the brilliancy of his parts, they wondered and lamented that so much genius should be united to so little prudence or virtue.

The unfavourable occurrences which crossed his political career, might spring from accident; but they derived new force from the warmth or the facility of his own temper. During the American war, he had derived much popularity from his resolute and violent opposition to lord North; but when this nobleman and his friends passed over to the party of Fox, and were by him received with his usual facility and frankness, the people looked upon their patriot as guilty of the most unprincipled dishonesty, in thus cordially coalescing, with the men whom he had just pursued with the most opprobrious invective. The odium of the coalition continued ever afterwards to hang, like a noxiupon his brightest

ous vapour, beams.

When Great Britain interfered to put a stop to the conquering arms of Russia, the friends of monarchy were alarmed and incensed, when they saw Fox not only oppose administration at home, but even carry his zeal so far as to send abroad an accredited agent to thwart the views of government. During the lamented illness of the sovereign, his activity drew down upon him a new load of indignation. Men could not look upon the warmest friendship for the son, as a sufficient excuse for deserting his duty to the father.

The French revolution followed close. Fox, in conformity with his principles, applauded the first movements of freedom. The excesses which ensued altered the general feelings: the best principles became abhorred, when found in the mouths of atrocious villains; and in the ideas of the multitude Fox became associated with those who spoke the same language, however different their intentions and actions. The. consternation afterwards diffused throughout the kingdom, and the vast popularity of his great political antagonist, gave a still deeper hold to these impressions; and no one seemed worthy of public trust, who did not revile Fox as an enemy to his country. His own imprudence was, indeed, scarcely less fatal to his interests, than were the arts of his adversaries. He gave too free access to men of profligate characters and dark designs: he uttered expressions too violent at any time, but foolish in the extreme amidst the ferment which then prevailed: he even de-' graded himself to a level with the lowest demagogues, by haranguing motley mobs in the fields around London, His patriotism became more suspected, when he declared his country to be in extreme danger, and then took the unmanly resolution of abandoning her councils, and consigning himself to ease and retirement. These acts are, indeed, attributed to a facility which led him to yield to men whose opinions he should have despised: but this is only to defend his heart at the expence of his head.

The same lamentable facility suddenly eclipsed the rays which began to break forth at his decline. After twenty years of opposition, he came into power without sacrificing his

honour;

honour; but his first act in the house of commons, as a minister, was the introduction of the bill to enable a colleague to possess at once two important, rich, and incompatible offices. He seemed to feel his own degradation; he seemned concious that he was setting at defiance all his former professions, and trampling to dust all the glory of his life. His countenance reddened, and his voice became choaked with shame and anger, when his adversaries reminded him of what he wished to forget. With this initiation, his former principles seemed to have vanished. The worst measures of his predecessors, the property tax, which he had lately reprobated as the most impolitic, unjust, and oppressive of all exactions, he now supported as an ingenious device, and defended an increase of its injustice and oppression.

Morality is too often neglected by the ambitious, as useless to their advancement: but experience shews, that the want of a good moral character cannot be compensated to a statesman by any fame of talents, The general opinion of Fox's licentiousness was, perhaps, the greatest obstacle to his fortunes, and the glue which made calummies so readily adhere to him. He was even believed to be the principal instrument in polluting that spring from which the nation expected its future happiness to flow; nor was this surmise confined to the vulgar. So confirmed was the general opinion of his licentiousness, that his adherents, especially in certain distant quarters of the island, seemed to have assumed it as the distinguishing badge of their party; and youths who professed contempt for religion, and practised an unbounded libertinism,

were there almost the only acknow. ledged Foxites. The moral act, by which he closed his gaver career, excited scarcely less reprehension. However reclaimed and meritorious might be the object of his choice, yet it seemed too shocking to decorum, that the wife of a great statesman should be an improper companion for any honest matron.

The mind of Fox was naturally open and liberal; and his principies bore the stamp of his disposition. He seemed from conviction the asserter of popular rights, and a decided enemy to arbitrary government. Yet his principles couid not at all times resist either his facility or his warmth; and some portion at least of his consistency may be attributed to his permanent situation as leader of opposition. He was accused of rank democracy; but with much injustice. He entered political life among the aristocracy, and with them closed his career. It was by their prevailing influence against the crown that he twice became a minister; and by them he was sup ported throughout. He was a friend to extensive suffrage; but he knew that the votes of the lower orders must ever be at the command of the higher. In power, he had always the interest of the aristocracy in view. He endeavoured to throw the whole patronage of India into the hands of the parliament. He supported the property tax, on the principle, that men ought, as far as possible, to be retained in the sta tion which they have once occupied; and that it is quite as reasonable the lower orders should be starved, as that the higher should be deprived of their usual enjoyments.

The knowledge of Fox was chiefly of that description which may be

drawn

drawn from conversation, or from books of easy perusal. In a country, whose prosperity hinges on the arrangement of its industry, whose government depends on the skilful support of public credit, he acknowledged himself ignorant of political economy and finance. He was not deeply versed in official business : nor had pursued any subject with the accuracy of scientific investigation: but in the political history of his country, in the laws relative to his constitution, in the dispositions and views of foreign powers, in the arts which conciliate and lead mankind, his knowledge was, perhaps, unrivalled by any modern politician.

His eloquence was the grand foundation of his fame. He had to struggle with the disadvantages of appearance. His figure was unpromising, his motions ungraceful, his voice shrill, and his enunciation, at the commencement of his speech, indistinct and hesitating. Every thing announced, that all was unpremeditated, and that the hearer had nothing to expect but the effusions of the moment. But as he proceeded, this circumstance became a source of admiration. As he grew warm, his words began to flow: his enunciation became clear and forcible; his countenance glowed with ardour, and every motion spoke the force of his feelings. He hastened directly to his subject. It seemed to occupy his whole soul, to call forth every power of imagination and judgment: he was irresistibly hurried on by his emotions, and his hearers were hurried along with him. In whatever he said, there was an air of candour and earnest ness, which carried in it scarcely less persuasion than his words. By

the rapidity and strength of his conceptions he was enabled to place his subject in the clearest light; and he had an unusual facility in calling to his assistance the resources with which books or conversation had supplied him. His wit was very

successful, and his sarcasms peculiarly poignant: they were not delivered with bitterness, and they seemed always to fall justly on the head of their object.

Yet his eloquence was not free from the vices to which it was naturally subjected by his habits. His orations were never regular, never skilfully arranged. The hearer, borne along by his warmth, did not discover his desultory transitions; but, on recollection, he found it difficult to retrace the maze which he had traversed. As he always trusted to the moment, his exhibitions depended much on the state of his spirits; and it was not uncommon to see him labour through a hesitating, devious discourse, which scarcely retained the attention of his hearers.

Even those who disliked his politics most, admired his disposition. His friends felt towards him a personal attachment; and the open frankness of his manners often disarmed political animosity. He was regarded as the very model of a true Englishman.

His early dissipation, and the narrowness of his private fortune, involved him in perpetual difficulties, which embarrassed his mind, and often engaged him in a disagreeable dependence. The expedient of a general contribution of his friends, by which he was at length extricated, gave an irrecoverable blow to his respectability. Those especially at a distance felt a strange revolution of sentiment, when the idol of their admiration