THE DUKE OF KENT.*

MR. NEALE'S Life of the Duke of Kent has been published somewhat late in the day; rather too much in the afternoon of the events to which it is related. Nevertheless, even at the present period, it is worthy of consideration, and may agreeably entertain the reading public for a season. It would seem, indeed, that this Edward, Duke of Kent, was really, as Dr. Maton styled him, "a most princely-minded man ;" not merely a prince by birth and station, but a prince also among the lofty aristocracy of noble minds. As his life was a troubled and eventful one, and his memory has been long lying under some unmerited suspicions, it is highly proper that an authentic record of his actual deeds and character should be rendered public, for the satisfaction of a reasonable curiosity, and also as a means of vindicating a reputation that has been in some respects aspersed and unfairly represented.

Such a record, having every appearance of faithfulness and credibility, Mr. Neale has here produced. He had many qualifications for the work. He knew the Duke; retains an "indelible recollection of his courtesy and kindness," during a certain "memorable interview;" has been at different times acquainted with several persons competent to speak of his habits, peculiarities, and circumstances; had opportunities of gaining large access to documents necessary to be consulted; possessed sufficient industry and patience for their due investigation, and the needful ability for arranging and reproducing them in a shape readable and convenient: he is, moreover, a man of evident candour and calm judgment; knows and respects all the conventional amenities; and has the aptitude and talent requisite for a delicate handling of his subject. His object, as he affirms, is "to do justice to a noble-minded man," whom he conceives to have been throughout his life "most harshly, unfairly, and spitefully treated." By such a *Sharpe's "London Magazine," September, 1850. The Life of the Duke of Kent, by the Rev. Erskine Neale.

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had gone over to the immortals! He was just ten years, two months, and twelve days old.

Two days afterwards, the body was buried in the cemetery of Sainte-Marguerite, by the Rue Saint Bernard. No mound was raised over the grave, no stone or other memorial erected to mark the spot-it was the desire of the revolutionary rulers to conceal it-and to this day no one has ever been able to find it out. The only monument or shrine he has ever had, is that which his innocency and his sufferings have built up in the mystical and expansive sanctuary of a remembering human pity!

THE DUKE OF KENT.*

MR. NEALE'S Life of the Duke of Kent has been published somewhat late in the day; rather too much in the afternoon of the events to which it is related. Nevertheless, even at the present period, it is worthy of consideration, and may agreeably entertain the reading public for a season. It would seem, indeed, that this Edward, Duke of Kent, was really, as Dr. Maton styled him, “a most princely-minded man;” not merely a prince by birth and station, but a prince also among the lofty aristocracy of noble minds. As his life was a troubled and eventful one, and his memory has been long lying under some unmerited suspicions, it is highly proper

that an authentic record of his actual deeds and character should be rendered public, for the satisfaction of a reasonable curiosity, and also as a means of vindicating a reputation that has been in some respects aspersed and unfairly represented.

Such a record, having every appearance of faithfulness and credibility, Mr. Neale has here produced. He had many qualifications for the work. He knew the Duke; retains an "indelible recollection of his courtesy and kindness,” during a certain "memorable interview;” has been at different times acquainted with several persons competent to speak of his habits, peculiarities, aud circumstances; had opportunities of gaining large access to documents necessary to be consulted; possessed sufficient industry and patience for their due investigation, and the needful ability for arranging and reproducing them in a shape readable and convenient: he is, moreover, a man of evident candour and calm judgment; knows and respects all the conventional amenities; and has the aptitude and talent requisite for a delicate handling of his subject. His object, as he affirms, is "to do justice to a noble-minded man," whom he conceives to have been throughout his life "most harshly, unfairly, and spitefully treated." By such a

Sharpe's "London Magazine," September, 1850. The Life of the Duke of Kent, by the Rev. Erskine Neale.

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sentence, Mr. Neale evidently casts blame on somebody; and it is only fair that it should fall where it is due: this is his intention, and for the rest, he leaves his book to fate.

Feeling the interest of the work, and supposing that sundry readers-in these days of competition, agricultural hardship, over-population, dreadful stress of pauperism, and a ruinous weight of taxes-may not care to spend fourteen shillings on a single volume, it is proposed, for their benefit, to select some of the main particulars it contains, and to present them for larger circulation in the present pages. Let the reader bear in mind the straitness of our space, the severe brevity that must be practised, and believe that we design to do the utmost that is possible for his curiosity; and then, perhaps, he may realize a state of mind which may incline him to be thankful for what he gets.

Edward Augustus, fourth son of George III., was born at Buckingham House, at noon, on the second of November, 1767. In allusion to his birth, he was sometimes heard to say,-"My arrival was somewhat mal-à-propos. The month was gloomy November; the court was enveloped in gloom, for it was a season of mourning; one of my uncles, a great favourite with my father, was then lying dead in his coffin; his funeral, in fact took place some twenty-four hours after my birth. Sometimes the thought has crossed me, whether my inopportune appearance was not ominous of the life of gloom and struggle which awaited me.'

"The Duke's childhood," says Mr. 66 Neale, as that of princes generally, may be passed over as affording little scope for observation; but at an early period of life, he was placed under the care of an earnest and judicious instructor, Mr. Fisher, subsequently Canon of Windsor, and successively Bishop of Exeter and Salisbury." This gentleman worthily fulfilled his trust, and continued to the end of a long life to cherish the most affectionate feelings of regard for his royal pupil. In 1824, at a party in his own house, in Lower Seymour Street, the good Bishop entertained his guests with some of his recollections of the Prince, referring to the period of his early life. "I may well be proud of him," said he; a prince with whom the love of truth was paramount to every consideration; a prince whom nothing could induce to dissemble; even in childhood it was the same. At Kew Palace there was a timepiece, highly prized by George III.:

it was a clumsy affair; there was nothing particular in its construction, or ingenious about its movement. The only attraction it possessed arose from its historical associations. It had belonged, if my memory rightly serves me, to the youthful Duke of Gloucester, son of Queen Anne. One morning the pedestal of this relic was found vacant, and the timepiece itself lying on the ground, a wreck. It had been battered by some heavy instrument, and lay shivered in fragments. Repair was hopeless. The dial was damaged irreparably. The King's displeasure was not light; and immediate inquiries were instituted. They issued in no satisfactory result; the culprit could not even be guessed at; no one had witnessed the disaster; no one could explain its occurrence. After many hours elapsed, by mere chance a question was put to Prince Edward. "I did it," was the instant and unhesitating reply. "But," said one party [probably the tutor], anxious to screen the intrepid boy,-"your royal highness did it by accident?" "No; I did it intentionally." "But your royal highness regrets what you have done?" "No; not at all." "Not sorry?" "No; I may be sorry for it tomorrow, but I certainly am not sorry for it now.' It was impossible to get over this avowal. The Prince was punished, and not slightly. "But when," added the Bishop, "was it otherwise, in childhood or manhood?—WHEN and where? Emphatic interrogatory!—which, had it been uttered sooner, might have prevented Mr. Fisher from knowing the comforts of a bishoprick. The capacious memory that retained a lively recollection of a "Pigeon Paley," might easily have remembered (for no good) the insinuated censure of the Prince's tutor.

Having chosen the profession of arms, the Prince, in his eighteenth year, was sent to Luneburg, then forming a part of the electorate of Hanover, there to prosecute his military studies, under the superintendence of Baron Wangenheim. "Farmer George," as the prince amusingly styled his father, granted him an annual allowance of a thousand pounds; most of which, however, was privately appropriated by the "Governor :" the said Baron being of opinion that it was the best policy for himself to keep his pupil short of cash. "One guinea and a half per week, sometimes melted down by military forfeits to twenty-two shillings," was all that found its way into the prince's purse for personal expenses