FROM the recent published Memoirs of the Life of the Right Honourable George Canning, which has been ascribed to the pen of Dr. Styles, we give a few extracts. Though considerable care and assiduity has been used in the compilation of these volumes, little more has been done than might have been effected by a recurrence to the public press, from the time Mr. Canning first entered parliament. Feeling confident that most of our readers must be tolerably conversant with the birth, parentage and authorship of this great man, from the many sketches of his life, that were published before, and at the time of his death, we shall confine ourselves to the reverend author's account of the duel, and how occasioned, which took place between Lord Castlereagh and Mr. Canning, on the 21st Sept. 1809; the anecdote of Mr. C.'s Denevolence; the Epitaph on the Marquis of Anglesea's leg, which we insert for the purpose of correcting the error that has arisen by the jeu d'esprit being attributed Mr. Canning, when the author of it was Mr. Gaspey, (a gentleman known to the iterary world as the author of several novels, and other able miscellaneous proVOL. I. C See page 24 ductions ;) and the character of Mr. Canning, political and literary, as summed up by his biographer. DUEL OF MR. CANNING, AND LORD "We have now arrived at the period when it is our painful task to record a transaction which reflects no honour on the parties con. cerned, except that they proceeded to their meditated work of mutual destruction with a cool and determined courage; the one thirsting for revenge, the other most willing to render satisfaction.. Good God! the satisfaction of inflicting or receiving the direst injury that one human being can experience from the hands of another! We refer to the duel which took place between Lord Castlereagh, and Mr. Can ning. Duelling is a barbarous relic of other times, and ought long ago to have vanish. ed with wager of battle, to which it is nearly allied, and the other ferocities of a half civilized state. It is little to the credit of our boasted improvement in manners, that the pettiest quarrels are now terminated by a deliberate act of murder, which involves, in many instances, the double guilt of revenge and suicide; or it avoided by a shuffling meanness, which creeps through 2-SATURDAY, JAN. 19, 1828. an affront, destitute altogether of that noble magnanimity which either forgives or disdains retaliation, from a sense of conscious rectitude, and the fear of offending Almighty God. We feel, indeed, that on this, and many other points, professed Christians are practical atheists; and that to urge upon them the dictates of Christianity, and the obligation of the divine law, would be only to expose both ourselves and their religion to the utmost derision and contempt. If every instance where the lives of the murderers who meet to consummate a duel are put in jeopardy involves a high degree of moral guilt, this guilt must be deeply aggravated where the parties occupy stations of great responsibility. Parents and husbands live not for themselves only, but for those who depend upon them, and to whose comfort and happiness their continuance in this world seems to be indispensable. When, in addition to these natural relations, there are annexed those which involve the prosperity of nations -when the individuals sustain the weight of empire, and have duties to perform which embrace the entire circles of society, such men are bound by the most sacred considerations to live for that community which has intrusted its interests to their hands. To stake a nation's weal against. a personal affront, and to sacrifice one's country because we have quarrelled with a friend, or provoked an enemy, is a baseness for which nothing can atone. As to the affair of honour, which had nearly deprived the country in one moment of two members of parliament, and the cabinet of its most important ministers, it seems to us, in the one case, to have been precipitated by blinded rage, and to have been yielded to in the other merely because it was demanded ;-perhaps the _severe law of custom left no alternative. In high life, as it is called, if a man is challenged, he must fight. The question, then, to be answered is, whether Lord Castleagh was justified, according to the usage of society, in this particular, in calling out his right honourable antagonist. For our own parts, we are so dull and unapprehensive, that we cannot perceive that the noble lord's honour was at all wounded in the matter of his complaint. That his feelings were irritated, and that, mortified to the quick, he wanted some victim on which to wreak that indignation which he was not then prepared to vent upon himself, we can easily imagine. But it does not appear to us that his charge of duplicity against his colleague is at all made out. The head and front of Mr. Canning's offending was sim ply, that instead of communicating immediately to the noble lord what, from a younger man than his lordship, might have been deemed by him an arrogant assumption of superiority, Mr. Canning conferred with the head of the administration on the subject; he tendered his own resignation, which that noble person refused to accept, and he consented to remain in office only on condition that the Duke of Portland, and the elder members of the cabinet, would take upon themselves the delicate task of inducing Lord Castlereagh to exchange the war department for another more suited to his talents, and for which he was better qualified. This the parties to whom the affair was intrusted neglected to do, and by a breach of confidence, on whom chargeable it is not known, Lord Castlereagh was informed that Mr. Canning had demanded his dismission. On this slight and insufficient ground the noble lord immediately wrote to Mr. Canning, in the moment of feverish irritation, and while the failure of the expedition to the Scheldt, like a fiery viper, was gnawing upon his heart. But for the agitation of his mind, his lordship must have perceived, that Mr. Canning had only exercised his right of acting with whom he pleased, and that, in tendering his resignation, in order that he might leave the noble lord in full possession of his power, the responsibility of which he was no longer willing to share with him, he had thrown the onus of his dismission upon his superiors in the cabinet, who, as they had determined to retain Mr. Canning, and to dismiss the minister at war, ought to have charged themselves with the whole transaction, without betraying the confidence, which would not have been reposed in them, had they simply permitted him to retire." BENEVOLENCE OF MR. CANNING. 'Mr. Canning's whole life bore ample testimony to his benevolence. He was eminently distinguished by the charities of human nature, and was perpetually diffusing happiness around the circle in which he moved. No man could be more alive to appeals made to his compassion. By his humane interference, he saved the life of one of the Cato-street conspirators. It is said that, being on a visit at his friend's house, Mr. Ellis, now Lord Seaford, at Seaford, in taking one of his early morning walks, he was caught in a very violent squall, when he was invited into the signal house on Beachy Head, occupied by a lieutenant in the navy, where every civility was paid him as a stranger, then wholly unknown to the inmates. Mr. Canning, while taking his homely breakfast under this hospitable roof, amused himself with noticing the younger branches of the 99 66 numerous. Mr. family, which were Canning said to the veteran, "Why do you not send the boy to sea ?" "How can I afford that ?" replied the lieutenant ; I assure you, sir, it is with difficulty I find the means of filling out their jackets; would to God I could send him to sea!" And then,' ," said Mr. Canning, "of what profession are your daughters, how do they employ themselves?-one, I see, is grown up.' Why, sir, this eldest girl is astonishingly clever at her needle, and I should like to have her sent to some dress-maker's." The stranger guest departed; but in a few days the boy was sent for, fitted out as a midshipman, and is now a lieutenant; the girl was provided with the situation suited to her talents, with a lady in Pall Mall, and is since respectably married. The whole expense was defrayed by their generous morning guest, and the tears of this veteran's family follow him to the grave." EPITAPH ON THE MARQUIS OF Here rests-and let no saucy gnave, Is laid a British Calf! That those who read the whole, And here five little ones repose, A leg and foot-to speak more plain- And when the guns, with thunder fraught, Pour'd bullets thick as hail, As in the battle brave, Goes to the ront, review, or play, With one foot in the grave. Should England's sons engage in fight, Resolved to stand his ground. But fortune's pardon I must beg: Since he could walk with one, She saw two legs were lost on him Who never meant to run, CHARACTER OF MR. CANNING. It was at the close of his public career, that he became the legislator of experience --not the puny and trammelled experience of a statesman by trade, who trembles at any change in the tricks which he has been taught, or the routine in which he has been accustomed to move; but an experience, beral and enlightened, which bears the testimony of ages and nations, and collects from it the general principles which regulate the mechanism of society. Though party introduced him into the senate, the constitution of his mind, as he became matured in years, preserved him in the happy medium between the extremes of party violence. As a minister, he was neither behind nor before the age in which he lived; therefore, he was not disposed to drag it backwards by his antiquated opinions, nor to impel it forward to measures of change for which it was unprepared. Mr. Canning was not naturally a man prone to extremes. Circumstances and inexperience placed him at the ultra point of despotism. He was a violent tory at the beginning, but he lived in a country of freedom, where liberal principles were diffused. By these he was insensibly influenced, but he was never hurried by his feelings into visionary schemes and experiments. He had no natural alliance either with the tory or whig aristocracy, and he dreaded popular frenzy and delusion. Determined to uphold the constitution, he would have contemplated with horror any attempt to alter its basis or change its character. When he found that the toryism of his youth threatened the subversion of this glorious fabric, he abandoned its ultra peculiarities. He considered power as a trust reposed in him for the public good. Instead of growing despotic in proportion to the elevation to which he was gradually raised by the voice of the people, and the favour of his sovereign, he exhibited the rare example of increasing moderation and liberality. His views enlarged with his sphere of influence; and when he reached the summit of his ambition, he was prepared to wield the powers of the state with the strenuous arm of a man formed for the times in which he appeared destined to act so conspicuous a part. He conciliated his former political opponents, and, without yielding to their dictation, availed himself of their assistance. He was not properly a whig, but he was not unwilling that a strong infusion of whiggism should neutralize the leaven of toryism, when he saw that its fermentation was likely to endanger the safety and prosperity of his country. If, as a statesman, his mind was not of the very highest order, he was incomparably the best man of business, and the most effective public orator of his age. The long concealed, but sudden ebullition of the hatred of his former colleagues was highly favour able to the development of his genuine principles, and tended to give them firmness and stability. Party made him an eloquent debater; experience made him a liberal statesman, and, welcomed by the voice of his sovereign and the people, he became a high-minded and patriotic minister. Of his domestic and foreign policy we have already spoken. Had not Mr Canning taken his seat in the cabinet on the death of the Marquis of Londonderry, the measures contemplated by that nobleman would, no doubt, have been persevered in by his colleagues. Then insurrection acts, banishments, and all the rigour of an inquisition, must have gone on, till they could go no farther, and desolation closed the drama. The late policy was wholly Mr.Canning's; assented to, and supported in some degree, by Lord Liverpool, but contemned by most of those who went out of office on Mr. Canning's appointment to the premiership. Some of those measures were suggested long ago by members of the then opposition, and portions of them were carried through parliament by Mr. Huskisson and Mr. Peel; but the spirit of the policy was Mr. Canning's, and he was supported in these his measures by the opposite side, now with and in administration. "The literary productions of Mr. Canning are merely specimens of his attainments, and the natural bent of his mind. He never intended that they should form the basis of his reputation. He was the best writer in the Anti-jacobin, the best essayist in the Microcosm, the master spirit in the. Loves of the Triangles, and a satirist not inferior to Gifford in his New Morality. In fact, he was every thing he chose to be. Lord Byron did not err when he said, Canning is a genius, almost an universal one;-an orator, a wit, a poet, and a statesman.' 6 "One other liberal testimony, the tones of which, like melancholy yet sublime music, have been wafted to us from across the Atlantic, to soothe and exalt us at the same moment, and we have done. It is that fine eulogy on our departed statesman, pronounced in congress by the President of the United States, Quincey Adams, Esq. 'He was a Briton through and through. British in his feelings, British in his aims, British in all his policy and projects. It made no difference whether the lever that was to raise them was fixed at home or abroad, for he was always and equally British. The influence, the grandeur, the dominion of Britain were the dream of his boyhood; to establish them all over the globe, even in the remote region where the waters of Columbia flow in solitude, formed the intense efforts of his riper years. For this he valued power, and for this he used it. Greece he left to her melancholy fortunes, though so much alive to all the touching recollections and beauties of that devoted land, because the question of her escape from a thraldom so long, so bitter, and so unchristian, was a Turkish and European, not a British question. For Britain's sake exclusively, he 'took the determination to counteract France and the Continent in Spanish America. So, for Britain's sake he invariably watched, and was as invariably for counteracting the United States. He had sagacity to see into the present and latent resources of our commercial, our navigating, our manufacturing strength. Upon the knowledge of these, actual and prospective, he took his measures; and if we may or do think that they were not always wisely taken, since true liberality in the intercourse of nations is in the end apt to prove true wisdom, still he took them in a spirit that was British. 'Those who knew this highly gifted man more nearly, testify that his inter-, course in the relations of private and social life was as attractive as his public career was brilliant and commanding. I at it has been as brief as brilliant does out recal the pathetic exclamation of Burke, 'What shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue!'-He ascended to the pinnacle of all his earthly ambition only to die!" " LINES ON MADNESS. Oft, at midnight hour, Thro' the silent gloom, And now, a deeper groan Succeeds the struggle of imprisoned breath, The long drawn note of agonizing death. THE TWO LOVERS OF SICILY. In the Island of Sicily, there lived a beautiful girl called Biancafiore, whose father was a farmer of the imposts in that kingdom; she had several lovers, but the happiest one was Tebaldo Zanche, a young person of gentle birth but of indifferent estate, which caused him to be more favourably regarded by Bianca than her father desired, who had set his heart upon matching her with a certain wealthy merchant of Palermo. The power of a parent in those days being much more despotic than in our temperate times, the poor wretched girl was finally compelled to bestow her hand on the merchant, whereupon Tebaldo instantly took leave of his country, and with a hopeless passion at heart wandered over Europe. As soon as she was married, Bianca was taken by her husband to his country house, which was situated on the seacoast, towards Gigenti, his chief delight being to watch the ships, as they fared to and fro on their mercantile embassies, whereas they only recalled to Bianca the small white sail which had disappeared with the unfortunate Tebaldo. This prospect of itself was sufficient to aggravate her melancholy, but her residence on the sea-shore was yet to expose her to still greater miseries. It was not uncommon in those days, for the Barbary cruisers, those hawks of the Mediterranean, to make a sudden stop upon our coasts, and carry off with them, besides other plunder, both men and women, whom they sold into slavery, amongst the Moors, in default of ransom. In this manner, making a descent by night when Mercanti was absent at Palermo, they burnt and plundered his house, and took away Bianca; whose horror you may well conceive, when by the blazing light of her own dwelling, she was carried off by such swarthy barbarians, whose very language was a sphynx's riddle to her, and might concern her life or death: and then embarked upon a sea of fire; for there happened that night a phenomenon not unusual in the Mediterranean, namely, the phosphorescence of the waters, which whether caused by glowing marine insects, or otherwise, makes the waves roll like so many blue burning flames. Those who have witnessed it, know well its dismal appearance on a gloomy night, when the billows come and vanish away like fluxes of pallid fire, and withal so vapour-like and unsubstantial, that apparently the vessel, or any gross corporal substance, must needs sink into its ghastly abyss. With such a dreary scene, therefore, and in the midst of those tawny-coloured infidel Moors, with their savage visages and uncouth garments and glittering arms, 'tis no marvel if Bianca thought herself amongst infernals and the demons of torture on the sulphureous lake. On the morrow, which scarcely brought |