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speration knows no impossibilities. Changing the sentimental tone he had hitherto adopted, he burst into the most frenzied exclamations of grief; stated the necessity he was under of immediately joining his regiment at Carlisle, which he should have done long before had not his love for Priscilla kept him lingering in the vicinity of Hampstead; that he had not the heart to state this before; but, now that he had explained his situation, he felt that he should not survive the shock of a separation. "There," said he, pointing to the carriage, which was but a few yards off, "there is the detested vehicle destined to bear me far from thee! Why had I not the candour to explain my position till this moment? Alas! who, situated as I am, could have acted otherwise? Lady, I love-adore-doat-on you to distraction! Let us fly, then, and link our fates together. You speak not, alas!" "Good Heavens !" replied the bewildered Miss Spriggins, "impossible! What would the world say? Oh fie, Captain Felix!-to think that I should have been exposed to

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"Come, Priscilla,—my Priscilla,—and let us hasten to be happy. The respected clergyman at Gretna

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"An elopement!-Monstrous !-Oh! that I should have lived to hear such a proposition !"

Need the sequel be insisted on? Dick wept, prayed, capered, tore his hair, and acted a thousand shrewd extravagances; swore he would hang himself to the toll-bar, or cut his throat with an oysterknife, if his own dear Priscilla did not consent to unite her destiny with his; and, in fact, so worked upon the damsel's sensibilities, that she had no help for it but to gasp forth a reluctant consent. An instant, and all was ready for departure. Crack went the whip, round went the wheels, and away went the fond couple to Gretna-green, rattling along the high north road at the rate of fourteen miles an hour!

Thus he who at nine o'clock in the morning was an adventurer without a sixpence in his pocket, by the same hour in the evening was a gentleman in possession of a woman worth eight hundred pounds per annum!-Gentle reader, truth is strange,-stranger than fiction.

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THE MINISTER'S FATE.

A SKETCH OF THE PAST.

Now that the session of parliament is fairly set in, and occupying public attention, sketches and recollections of public orators, with touches at the gallery M.P.'s, or "gentlemen of the fourth estate," as the reporters have been termed, will of course become redundant; but for scribblers who have known St. Stephen's only a session or two to attempt a thing of this sort, so as to satisfy those who take a real interest in the doings of the senate, is out of the question. To deal with such matters properly, a man, as Pierce Egan says of the important mysteries of boxing and slang, "must be brought up to the business from a young 'un.”

It is not my purpose to deal with matters of the day. My sketches might go a quarter, or probably half a century back: Graham's celestial bed, Dr. Dodd's execution, and Lord George Gordon's riots, will scarcely be out of my reach. Though I set off with what relates to the House of Commons, from having known many of the distinguished writers who have at various periods laboured there, other scenes will occasionally recur to me, which it may be worth while to bring, with the details none but an eye-witness can give, before the reader.

I did not, however, know, but from reading of them in the newspapers, the parliamentary orators of my time, till after the opening of the present century. The last stars of a galaxy admitted to be of more than ordinary splendour, had not yet faded when I made my debut in the gallery of St. Stephen's Chapel: Pitt and Fox, Lord North and Burke, had "shuffled off this mortal coil;" but Wyndham, and Sheridan, and Tierney remained. Of them and of their latter contemporaries I have many recollections; some of which, as they are connected with matters of historical interest, it may be entertaining at least, to recall. It will not be important to observe strict chronological order, so each scene is kept by itself, the colouring not exaggerated, and every fact related with a scrupulous regard to sacred truth.

Shades of the departed, how ye rise to "my mind's eye" as I prepare to enter on my task! On the right, as we looked from the gallery of the old House, that is, to the left of the Speaker's chair, I see Ponsonby, with his portly form, white hair, and red chubby countenance; Wyndham, a tall, spare figure, and a head partially bald; Tierney, with his lowering brow, apparently waiting to spring on his ministerial victim; Sheridan, exhibiting an aspect but too indicative of the thoughtless career he pursued; Romilly, maintaining an air of solemn dignity, with an appearance of exhaustion from severe mental toil: Whitbread, robust, shrewd, and never weary; his deportment might have passed for that of a blunt, resolute farmer. Always at his post; during the session, the House of Commons was his home. Opposed to these I see the keen, sarcastic, and animated Perceval. He had a bright penetrating eye, and a nose rather inclining upwards, which the H. B.'s of 1807 converted into a most ludicrous pug nose: his figure was small, and he had little hair on the crown of his head;

but he wore a long thin queue behind, which in debate, from the vivacity of his manner, was continually showing itself over one or other shoulder. Near him sat Castlereagh. He boasted an elegant figure and handsome countenance, and often carried the polish of the drawing-room into the tumult of political warfare, but sometimes abruptly dropped it, to strike the table or the box before him with almost farcical violence. The capacious forehead and fine features of Canning were generally by his side. The well-powdered head of Old George Rose was seldom very distant, and the bald shining skull of "Brother Bragge," as Mr. Bragge Bathurst had been facetiously called by Canning, was one of the group.

Memory now turns to the gentlemen up-stairs in the gallery; nor ought these to be thought beneath some notice, remembering how many have since descended into the House to furnish occupation to their reporting posterity. Woodfall formerly sat at the right hand corner of the front of the gallery, on the seat which was what a goose is for a meal," too much for one, but too little for two,"-I mean the continuation of the member's bench. He commonly held a goldheaded cane in his hand, which he continually turned round one way when listening to a speech, and then caused it to revolve the other way attending to the reply. The smiling suavity of Hogan, the dry good-humour of Donovan, (these gentlemen went out chief justice and judge advocate to Sierra Leone, where they died,) the severe glance of Keating, the gracious swagger and laugh of Edward Quin, the "amiable obliquity of vision" of Peter Finnerty, the ardent gaiety of Power, and the overflowing merriment of the senior Dow. ling, all seem to return, with the peculiarities of many others, who, like them, are no more, and those of a much greater number who fortunately survive.

The consequences of a war of unexampled length were severely felt in 1812, and much of the distress which then prevailed was affirmed to have been produced by our own "orders in council," issued to meet the decrees of Bonaparte. Earl Grey was their strenuous and persevering opponent. A parliamentary inquiry into their operation was instituted. In the Commons Mr. Whitbread greatly exerted himself in support of the views of his noble friend Earl Grey, and the investigation was entered upon by the whole House in committee. The interminable examinations which followed, exhausted public curiosity to such a pitch, that the gentlemen of the press had instructions not to report them. In consequence of this, when the order of the day was moved for going into the committee, they closed their books, entered into conversation, and sometimes even left the House.

The gallery was at that time on such occasions nearly deserted; two or three reporters indolently reclining on their seats, and from twelve to twenty visitors were all the audience the subject commanded.

Of the last-mentioned individuals, some few, from their own interests being affected by the matter under inquiry, went to the house frequently enough to get in some degree acquainted with the writers; and among them was one gentleman who usually took his place on the back seat, though he was always ready to resign it to those who, as they went there for business, and not for pleasure, considered that they

had a right to claim it as their own. There was something singular in this person's manner; and the eagerness with which he surveyed the members, by means of an opera-glass, often excited the mirth of his waggish neighbours. He asked many questions, but timed them so well, and always deported himself with so much respectful goodhumour, that any information he desired was readily given.

One fine summer's afternoon I and some other tired visitors to the House availed ourselves of the leisure which the sitting of the committee afforded, to enjoy a walk on the banks of the river. On our return, near Milbank, a person who had some knowledge of us inquired if we had heard that a duel had taken place between the Earl of Liverpool and Mr. Perceval, in which the latter had fallen. We laughed at the improbability of the story, but were seriously assured that we should find it true. Still incredulous, we said we would soon ascertain the fact, and accordingly advanced to Palace Yard. There the closed gates, the crowd assembled outside, and the information communicated by a thousand tongues, soon placed it beyond all doubt that the minister was no more, having within the last hour been shot, not by his noble colleague, but by a stranger named Bellingham.

Mr. Perceval was in the habit of coming down to the House about five o'clock. On this day it was a quarter past that hour, when, as he entered the lobby, he was shot through the heart. He staggered a few paces, fell against one of the pillars, and almost immediately expired. The assassin was instantly seized and taken to the bar of the House, where a crowd of persons, members and strangers mixed in extreme confusion, assembled round him; and as soon as an attempt at restoring order could be made, the Speaker directed Mr. Whitbread and other members to precede and follow the prisoner to a place of safe custody. This was done, and these facts were generally known to the multitude, which now beset all the avenues leading to the two Houses.

From mouth to mouth the mournful tidings flew with unexampled rapidity. The very prominent situation in which Mr. Perceval stood, the active and important business he was daily seen engaged in, made men almost seem to doubt if it were possible that such a career could so suddenly be closed for ever. The rumours sent forth had the same effect on every one they reached, I might almost say, that it has been shown they had on me and my companions. All who heard that the right honourable gentleman was dead, seemed to determine instantly to verify the fact by repairing to Westminster. It was about a quarter past five in the afternoon of the 11th of May that Mr. Perceval was shot in the lobby of the House, and, by six, countless thousands poured down the Strand and all the streets leading to Charing Cross. Second editions of the evening papers were got out with astonishing expedition; and, by the time I have mentioned, one had been carried so far towards Westminster as the end of Parliament-street, opposite Downing-street. The extreme eagerness of every one to know all that could be known, I remember, instantly got a crowd round the bearer of it. Ownership and ceremony were not thought of: every one who could get hold of the much-coveted broad sheet, considered that he had a right to it. I, among a host of

intruders, saw there, in the manner described, the first connected detail of the catastrophe.

As the night closed in, the crowd became immense, and some discreditable exultation was expressed by the lowest of the mob; but the general feeling created was that of humane commiseration and unmitigated horror.

Admiring the great talents of Mr. Perceval as I did, and impressed with a conviction that he was most amiable in private life, my own sorrow was great; and I rejoiced at the thought that the murderer was in safe custody, and would possibly, (as the sessions were about to commence,) before a single week should have elapsed, suffer the last penalty of the law.

Never shall I forget the spectacle which the House of Commons presented on the following day. Those who have been in the habit of going there, must have noticed with some annoyance the ceaseless murmur which prevails for the first hour, or hour and a half, after the Speaker has taken the chair, while private bills and petitions of little interest, are being disposed of, and papers presented at the bar. The monotonous repetition by the Speaker of the words, " So many as are of that opinion say 'aye,' those who are of a contrary opinion say 'no ;' the ayes have it," on putting questions which are unopposed,—the ceaseless slamming of doors,-the creaking of shoes of some of those members who seem to delight in displaying their elegance by marching, or I might almost say by skating, up and down the body of the House, as if to let their friends, the strangers in and under the gallery, see how very grand it is possible for them to look,-and the frequent cry of" Order! order!" " Bar! bar!" from the Chair, given forth, as was then the case, with full-toned dignity of Mr. Speaker Abbot (the late Lord Colchester), altogether gave the idea of a careless, irregular assembly,-of anything but a place where the most important business of a great nation was to be transacted. Such was its usual aspect in those days; but on the 12th of May 1812, most widely different I found the scene. The attendance was unusually full, but solemn funereal stillness marked the approach of each member to assist in the proceedings growing out of the recent and melancholy fate of the minister.

"How silent did his old companions tread"

on that floor over which they had so long been accustomed to pass with him whose fall they now lamented! Party feeling was annihilated; all mourned, and many wept, for the deceased, as if he had been their nearest, dearest friend or relative. A place on the ministerial bench was pointed at from the gallery as that which Mr. Perceval had been used to fill. I am not aware, though he generally sat nearly in the same place, that any precise spot was particularly reserved for him; and on the occasion which it is my object to recall, certainly no such theatrical effort at effect was made. The vacant seat was soon occupied by one of the late right honourable gentleman's colleagues.

Not only was there the abstinence from conversation, which I have noted, but action-the common ordinary motions of gentlemen meeting in assembly were suspended. The benches were filled with unwonted regularity; and their occupants, scarcely venturing on a whis

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