[[105]]From the affinity between fear and hatred, there is no wonder that when Napoleon was arrayed as our enemy, we joined hatred with hostility. But, at the time of his seizure on board the Bellerophon, he was no longer formidable; he was then in our hands. Upon what principle, then, did active hatred continue when both hostility and apprehension had ceased? Did a consciousness of inclemency (to use the mildest term that the occasion will admit) towards the object of it sufficiently account for the continuance of this hatred? It had been better, indeed, if Lord Castlereagh, as well as his coadjutors at that period, who cherished this inextinguishable species of enmity, had considered whether the world and posterity might not be apt to ascribe the meanest and most wicked of motives to such conduct. And let all the detracters of Napoleon recollect, that the illiberal invectives in which they have so freely indulged against him will, instead of making any lasting impression upon his fame, only serve to perpetuate their own disgrace and that of his ignoble persecutors. While his figure will stand conspicuous through history, the crowd of monarchs and ministers, who have alternately crouched to and calumniated, truckled to or trampled upon him, can only escape oblivion as they make the group which shade the back ground of the picture, and give a force, by forming a contrast, to the grandeur of the leading figure. Lord Castlereagh will assuredly form one of this back-ground group; but we envy him not in

[[106]]such fame. The conduct of his lordship to Napoleon, instead of displaying that dignified sentiment and enlightened understanding which should adorn the character of a nobleman, and which we should naturally be led to expect from a "secretary of state for foreign affairs," has degraded his name to the level of the meanest of the mean. We will not say that we had rather been a chimney-sweeper than have been guilty of his lordship's treachery to Napoleon; but, considering it as a deliberate exposition of the wickedness of his heart and his abandonment of every honourable feeling, which will be put on record, and handed down to posterity, we certainly will say, that all the wealth and titles of Lord Londonderry, together with his immense political power and the smiles bestowed on him by his despotic patrons, should never have induced us to have done the like.

Would that it were in our power here to close the catalogue of crimes, which are written in characters of blood, against the Marquis of Londonderry. The death of Napoleon was followed by the persecutions of an innocent and noble-minded WOMAN,—"the injured Queen of England!" But this self-important man had been so hardened in iniquity, that it was by no means a difficult task to persuade him to assist in her ruin. Her majesty was too well acquainted with the SECRETS OF STATE to be allowed the free exercise of her rights; and as his lordship had lent his assistance to prevent many of these disreputable

[[107]]secrets from being made public[107:A], self-preservation might have operated as a further inducement for him to enter the lists of her most bitter enemies. How fatally the Marquis of Londonderry and his colleagues succeeded in their diabolical plans have been already explained. But the inglorious triumph added not to his lordship's peace of mind; for, from that period, he was observed to exhibit "a conscience ill at ease." And it was a very remarkable fact, that the marquis should have selected the precise time of the year, only twelve months after, for his own destruction as that in which his royal mistress met her fate! A circumstance of this singular nature should operate as a great moral lesson for the consideration of mankind generally, though Providence might have designed it as a warning to the "titled wickedness" of our land. Such is the condition of our nature, that we cannot mortgage either our moral or our physical energies so as always to repel the accusations of our own hearts, which are sure, eventually, to reprove us for evils committed.

"O then beware;
Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves:
Omission to do what is necessary
Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when we sit idly in the sun!"

On what a slender thread hangs human life, and

[[108]]how worthless are titles and wealth, if all is not at peace within! On what a "beetling ledge" the favourite of royalty tracks his uncertain way! By what a fragile tenure the courtier holds the rewards of his servility, on which he is so accustomed to pride himself! The suicide of the gay and puissant Marquis of Londonderry was, indeed, a memento full of lessons of humility to the fawning parasites of power.

In the October of this year, Mr. Henry Nugent Bell, of whom we have before had occasion to speak, died at his house, Whitehall Place, in the 30th year of his age. This individual merits a little commiseration, notwithstanding the disgraceful part he took in the Manchester murders, and other similar missions of Lord Sidmouth; because, though the tool of despotic ministers, he made some amends to the public by betraying his base employers. The newspapers generally reported his death to have proceeded from a natural cause; but this was not the case. We can POSITIVELY state that he died UNFAIRLY; but whether from his own hand, or from the design of an enemy, we are not able to determine. Mr. Bell appears never to have forgiven himself for his dereliction from the path of virtue, and only urged, in extenuation of his conduct, the cruel necessity he was under to oblige his patron. Once enlisted under the banners of Sidmouth, the unfortunate man soon found out the necessity of not being over-scrupulous in his actions. One crime succeeded another; and thus a man of education and

[[109]]talent was made the victim of unjust and diabolical proceedings.

After a great deal of ministerial manœuvring, Mr. Canning succeeded in his suit for the foreign secretaryship. The situation of the Marquis of Londonderry had long been the darling, though for many years the unattainable, object of this gentleman's intrigues or importunities. The country, however, had no cause to rejoice in the appointment of Mr. Canning to an office of such conspicuous importance, and many people felt considerable surprise at so unexpected a promotion, as the right honourable gentleman had been previously selected as the new governor-general of India. It was a well-known fact, that Mr. Canning had fallen into personal disgrace with his majesty, and all his vacillating conduct with respect to our ill-treated queen had not been able to restore him to royal favour. There have, however, been instances where a minister has been forced upon the king by public opinion, as was the case with the first Mr. Pitt, in the reign of George the Second. This Mr. Pitt was in high favour with the PEOPLE of England, acquired through his known attachment to freedom, and through the irresistible ascendency of his upright and unbending character. George the Second, notwithstanding, showed great opposition to the appointment of this worthy man, who was hated by his king only because he feared his politics; yet Mr. Pitt was finally made secretary of state, and proved himself worthy of the popularity with which the PEOPLE had invested him.