in America, and had vainly attempted in the English House of Commons to rouse the Pitt ministry to a sense of humanity and commiseration for M. de la Fayette, joined the party at La Grange. That accomplished man was an addition to it of the most pleasing nature, and he was received most affectionately by the family. I have often contemplated with pleasure, General Fitzpatrick and M. de la Fayette walking in a long shady grove near the chateau, speaking of past times, the war in America, and the revolution in France. The rare sight of three such men as Fox, Fayette, and Fitzpatrick, was grateful to any one who felt rightly, and valued menjfor their services to humanity, rather than for successful ambition. Lally Tollendal, also, whose father had, under the old regime, suffered so severe a fate, was at La Grange, an open, honest, and agreeable man,-telling a great number of anecdotes, relating to the revolution, with point and energy, and resembling the Irish in his good-humoured and unstudied manners; anxious to contribute to the pleasure of M. de la Fayette's guests, and pointing out every thing agreeable to English customs and habits. In the evenings, he read extracts from Shakespeare, translated by himself into French, with an almost stentorian voice, and much effect. A few of M. de la Fayette's country neighbours were also occasionally invited; his table was plentiful, and our evenings diversified by conversation, chess, or some other game, as was most agreeable. Madame was extremely pleasing in conversation, and narrated her adventures and sufferings in Ger many, with great vivacity and ease. The chateau itself was ancient, and simply furnished; the library, at the top of one of the towers, a circular room, with a commanding view from its windows, was adorned with the busts of Washington, Franklin, and other distinguished American patriots, as well as by those of Frenchmen of genius in modern times. The wood, which adjoined the chateau, was a beautiful one, divided in the old style by long green alleys, intersecting one another, admirably adapted for a studious walk, or for reading remote from noise. Here was a place to enjoy the sublime and eloquent writings of Rousseau; and here I was happy to lose all thought of Paris and the world, filled with the grateful sensation, that I was the guest of a man so excellent as La Fayette. I often, too, had the satisfaction of conversing with him, as he was so unaffected and mild, that I had no difficulty in addressing him: he talked of Ireland, and Sir Edward Haversham, and inquired very much concerning the ancient wolf dog, one of which race (extinct I believe in France) he desired much to procure. All his sentiments were noble, and his mind was animated with a true feeling of liberty. He spoke a good deal of America, and told me, that so great was the jealousy of the Americans against foreign troops, that he was obliged to consent to reduce the number stipulated for, though he afterwards negociated for more at home, to make the aid effectual! Worthy and respectable man! If I have seen you for the last time, my wishes for your repose, and my gratitude, shall ever be alive. I shall ever dwell on your name with reverence and affection; and those delightful days I spent at La Grange, shall remain consecrated in my memory, as among the most fortunate and pleasing of my life. The political career of M. de la Fayette had not, it is true, the same happy result in France as in America: but it is to be considered, that his situation in the former was arduous beyond measure. A friend to a limited monarchy, and to the legitimate rights of the people, at a time when the support of one was deemed hostility to the other, he found it impossible, consistent with his principles, to fall into the mania of the nation. A king of integrity and firmness, with La Fayette as his counsellor, might have been safe, even in the tumultuous times preceding the seizure of the common-wealth by sanguinary demagogues; but Louis, it is to be feared, wanted both these qualities, certainly the latter! Fayette failed, therefore, in his patriotic views, not as the first Consul is said to have insinuated, because he attempted what was impracticable; but because those whose interest it was to second his views, and whose happiness would have been insured by them, did not support him, A ruined throne, and desolated country, subsequently attested the purity of his principles, and the soundness of his judgment. La M. de la Fayette had begun to devote himself much to agricultural pursuits (the happiest occupation of man!) and had entirely withdrawn himself from political affairs. His house and family were excellently well regulated; each had their own employment; till dinner, every guest was left quite free to follow his studies,-to walk and explore the country,to write, to act as he pleased,dinner re-assembled every one; and the hours flew swiftly past. Mr. Fox was very happy at La Grange; every thing suited his taste there, and he had, besides, the gratification of seeing his friend, after a life of dangers, and years of captivity, sheltered, at length, on the moderate estate of La Grange-having all his family around him, and conscientiously satisfied that he had done every thing for his country that his powers and opportunities had allowed. His garden, which was large, but had been neglected, also occupied a good deal of the attention of M. de la Fayette. He was in the mornings engaged in his farms, and enjoyed, with much relish, the avocations of agriculture! We remained a week at La Grange: I left it with great regret. The same kind and hospitable family bade us adieu; they lingered on the stair-case. We took leave of Madame. It was for the last time! That amiable woman, never having recovered her health, is since dead; and the lovely chateau of La Grange stands deprived of its hospitable mistress. M. de la Fayette, in the year 1803, sustained a dreadful fracture of his thigh-bone, but recovered, and continues to reside in his retirement at La Grange. Mr. DUNNING (Lord Ashburton) and Mr. FoOTE. From the Life of Arthur Murphy, Esq. by Jesse Foote, Esq. appear to have been his most confidential friends; with them he could safely speak of others, unbend his social hours, and receive a gratification highly pleasing to him. In his apartments, there was a portrait of Dunning, a very striking likeness, painted in crayons, by Ozias Humphrey. Mr. Dunning and he sometimes retired to Wimbledon, where the former had a house, a fine garden, and a hot-house, which he saw so seldom, that upon both their calculations, it was found that it cost a hundred pounds a visit. Having less to do than Mr. Dunning, he used to go to his chambers in the hours of business, where he has seen Mr. Lloyd Kenyon returning and receiving opinions. One time Mr. Kenyon asked Mr. Dunning for a frank to a relation in North Wales. Mr. Dunning gravely wrote him one, directed to his relation in North Wales, near Chester. Mr. Kenyon threw down the paper, and said, "Take your franks, Mr. Dunning; I will accept no more from you." Mr. Dunning got between him and the door, and pacified him. Mr. Dunning, having business in the west of England, gave Mr. Murphy a cast in his carriage, and in his way called on Lord Chatham at Burton Pynsent. Mr. Murphy wished to be taken up at the next stage, and to leave Mr. Dunning to call alone on his lord ship, as he had formerly con ducted a political contest against him: but Mr. Dunning would not part with him: they drove up to the house whilst it poured tor rents of rain, and there were large sheets of water round the house. Mr. Dunning left Mr. Murphy in the chaise. But Lord Chatham soon came to Mr. Murphy, and without the least ceremony, told him that "he should not remain as an enemy at his gate," and on the chaise door being opened, he added, "This is kind of you! You see, sir, I am confined here by inundations, like Noah in his ark." Mr. Murphy used to say, that if there was a natural logician, it was Mr. Dunning. When he was in the happiest mood, a speech of his, that took only half an hour, would embrace all the arguments contained in his opponent's of two hours. But yet he agreed, that it required the utmost attention to follow him. His mind laboured. He had, all the while, a movement of his head, a grinding of his lower jaw, and a certain singular cast of countenance. There was, besides, a huskiness in his throat, which constantly moved him to make use of an endeavour to clear it: this was first produced as a mental excitement, but afterwards became a habit, whenever his subject demanded any extraordinary exertion. A short time after Mr. Dunning was created Lord Ashburton, when he awoke one morning and heard the servant maid in the next chamber, he ordered her to undraw the curtains. He asked her what it was o'clock; she told him, "it was late." "Why then, undraw the curtains." They are undrawn," she said. He still thought otherwise, and desired his valet to be called. The valet confirmed the maid's report, and it was not till then, that his lordship found, that, by a paralytic stroke, he had been deprived of his 66 eye-sight, without the least sensation of pain. Soon after this calamitous visitation, Mr. Murphy was with him at his house in Lincoln's-InnFields, when the name of Colonel Barré was announced; and he was led in, by a guide, as blind as the noble person to whom his visit was directed. These two eminent characters were amongst the strongest opponents of Lord North's administration; and Lord North also, almost at the very same period, experienced the melancholy approach of the privation of his sight: a circumstance in the history of these distinguished characters which affords an ample scope for serious reflection. Shortly after, Lord Ashburton, on his return from the west of England, in his way to London, met Mr. Wallace, the late attorneygeneral, at an inn upon the road, going to Falmouth for the benefit of his health. They passed the evening together; and when it is considered, what these two men had been, and what the condition of both of them then was, I will leave the scene of the evening to be filled up by the mind of the reader. They parted never to meet again. Lord Ashburton died in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, and Mr. Wallace died at Falmouth. Murphy has composed an elegant Latin epitaph to the memory of the latter. Mr. It will be recollected that Samuel Foote was one of the earliest friends Mr. Murphy had; and so far back as the year 1757, it is seen that they were in the habits of familiar intercourse; and, opposite as they were, in their first nature; the one grave and thought I ful, the other gay and witty; they notwithstanding formed an indissoluble friendship. It has been seen, that they were concerned together to perform plays at Drury Lane Theatre during the summer of 1760, and the agreement was, that each of them should produce three new dramatic pieces. mention this, to show how friendship will cover faults: for although Mr. Foote did not produce one piece, Mr. Murphy only laughed at the trick that was put upon him: and I do not believe there was another man in England that would have served him so, and by the venture escaped with impunity. Mr. Murphy had it in contemplation to write the Life of Mr. Foote, and he was actually employed in collecting materials for it; but age and infirmity forbade the fulfilment of this intention. Mr. Murphy had already obtained the best account of his early life; and as even that must be interesting, I will here give it. "Samuel Foote was born (I believe, but that may easily be ascertained by the register) about the year 1721, at Truro, in Cornwall: his father, who was an attorney, and sometime member for Tiverton in Devonshire, had considerable places under government : his mother was of the ancient family of the Dineleys, of Charlton in Worcestershire, who married with the Gooderes, of Burghope in Herefordshire: both of these families were of an eccentric turn of mind, which Mr. Foote to have inherited and preserved to appears the last. "These connections brought him to the college school at Wor cester, under the Reverend Mr. Miles, from whence he was elected Scholar of Worcester College, Oxford, being founder's kin, about the year 1737. "In 1739, being indisposed, he was advised to go to Bath, where he soon made acquaintance with gamesters and men of pleasure. On returning to college, with two footmen and a ridiculous quantity of laced clothes, he was reproved by the Provost; when, finding a college life not suited to his genius, he quitted it in 1740, but without any public censure. "He had an early turn for mimickry and acting. When at school, he was frequently invited by the Sandys's, the Harris's, or others of his relations, to dine with them on Sundays: the consequence was, that Monday morning was spent in taking off every part of the family which entertained him, to the no small diversion of all the boys, but generally to their cost; as hardly any boy ever learned his lesson that morning. "He is said, when at Oxford, to have acted Punch in disguise. But I remember, in one of his excursions from London to Oxford, which jaunts he made very often, spending an evening with him in company with Martin Maden, Walter Shirley, and others. Those gentlemen and himself acted Punch for a wager, and the company all agreed that Foote was the worst performer of the three. "Foote's great acquaintance, both at school and college, was one Trott; and they went togegether upon many expeditions. "His second brother was a clergyman of Exeter College, Oxon. "In the interval from the time of his leaving college and coming upon the stage, he was frequently in great distress. He was once confined for debt in the Fleet; and, I believe, released by an Act of insolvency: at the same time; one Waite was there for cheating the Bank. An old schoolfellow told me he dined with him there on turbot, venison, and claret, and never spent a cheerfuller day; for, while Waite found money, Mr. Foote furnished wit, jollity, and humour. His first essay, as an author, was written about this time: it was a pamphlet giving an account of one of his uncles, who was executed for murdering his other uncle. "In one of his excursions to Oxford with a certain lady, for whom he afterwards procured a husband, he drove a coach and six greys. This lady was afterwards married, and Mr. Foote handsomely rewarded for his trouble. He rented Charlton House, the family-seat in Worcestershire, where he lived in some splendor for about a year and a half. During his magnificence there, he invited his old schoolmaster Mr. Miles, to dine with him, who, admiring his service of plate, and well-furnished side-board, very innocently asked Mr. Foote what it might cost? Indeed, says he, I know not, but sure I am, I shall soon know what it will bring." Mr. Foote was buried at Dover, though a monument is erected in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey by Mr. John Hunter, I believe; or at least he proposed the subscription for it. I do not think Mr. Murphy would have written a good Life of Mr. Foote, because he himself |