It was whilst this excellent and energetic man was chaplain to Charles the Second, an unwilling witness of the corruptions of the court, that he was requested to visit a female of abandoned character, who had been treading the paths of destruction with the celebrated Wilmot Earl of Rochester. Burnet, at this time without any parochial duty, never refused his aid to those who sought it. He went to the sinner, and left her penitent; but the good which he did ceased not here, but shed its beams forth in a “naughty world.” The Earl of Rochester, hearing of the manner in which the divine had reclaimed the unfortunate partner of his guilt, sent for Burnet; and during a whole winter, once in every week, went over with him all those topics by which infidelity attacks the christian religion. The judgment of the sceptic, Rochester, was convinced; his conviction of the importance of moral duty established; his proud spirit laid prostrate; his opinions and his deportment entirely changed. He died a sincere penitent; whilst Burnet, in bequeathing to posterity the memorial of the sceptical difficulties, of the true contrition, of this misled and sinful man, has left to the infatuated and to the erring a legacy of inestimable price. In the words of Dr. Johnson, speaking of the bishop’s account of these conferences, entitled “Some Passages in the Life of John Earl of Rochester,” “the critic ought to read it for its elegance, the philosopher for its argument, the saint for its piety.”[[315]]
Burnet, both by his own account and that of his biographer, appears to have been very unwilling to undertake the charge now offered to him by the King, and pressed upon him by the Princess. “I used,” he says, “all possible endeavours to decline the office.”
Having once, however, consented, he devoted himself with his usual ardour to the important task of educating the Prince. His admirable observations on education, in the conclusion of his History, show how excellently qualified the bishop was for the task. He went beyond his age, and was devoid of the narrow views and prejudices of his time. The great design of instruction was, as he justly thought, to inculcate great and noble sentiments, to give general information, to avoid pedantry, and to represent virtue and religion in the true light, as the only important, the only stable acquisitions in this sublunary state. He looked with regret on the errors committed by parents of the highest rank, who, lavish in other respects, were narrow in their notions of expenditure on education; he regarded education as “the foundation of all that could be proposed for bettering the next age.” He considered that “it should be one of the chief cares of all government.”[[316]]
With such a preceptor, it may readily be supposed how exact, and how earnest, would be those lessons guided by such high principles. “I took,” says the bishop, “to my own province, the reading and explaining the scriptures to him, the instructing him in the principles of religion and the rules of virtue, and the giving him a view of history, geography, politics, and government;” instructions which the peculiar though simple eloquence of the bishop might have rendered invaluable in any other case.
But such advantages as these were adapted to one of riper years, and of a more hardy constitution than the feeble Prince. His progress was indeed amazing. Under the guidance of the bishop he attained a religious knowledge which was, says Burnet, “beyond imagination.” His inquiries, his reflections, his pursuits, were those of a precocious and highly endowed mind. The custom of the times authorised this hot-bed culture to the infant mind. Our nobles and gentry were generally members of the universities at a period of life when now they would be school-boys. But the approved mode of rearing a vigorous plant cannot be pursued with a tender and delicate shoot. Henry Prince of Wales, the wonder of the court of James the First; and the Duke of Gloucester, the last remaining object of the Princess Anne’s maternal affection, are instances of excellence too prematurely developed to be permanent. The event of two years showed, indeed, that the care and zeal bestowed upon the powers of the Duke’s mind might with advantage have been postponed, however admirable the intentions, and valuable the instructions, of his distinguished preceptors.
Whilst Marlborough, with his eminent colleague, was training up the young Prince to prove, as they hoped, an honour to his country, the great general’s own family were growing up around him, displaying more than the ordinary graces and promise of youth. At this time, five children, one son and four daughters, formed the domestic circle of Lord and Lady Marlborough. Yet they were not destined to derive unalloyed felicity from these fondly prized objects of paternal affection. Their eldest son, afterwards Marquis of Blandford, a youth of considerable attainments, and of great moral excellence, was eventually consigned by his disconsolate parents to an early grave. The beauty and talents of their daughters were counterbalanced by defects which occasioned many heart-burnings, and much “home-bred” infelicity, in the latter period of Lady Marlborough’s life.
Henrietta, the eldest daughter of these distinguished parents, inherited much of her mother’s spirit, with more than Lady Marlborough’s personal charms, and with a great portion of that mother’s less enviable temper. When old age and bitter humiliation had added to the Duchess of Marlborough’s native moroseness, which they ought rather to have subdued, their eldest daughter and she were long at variance, and never reconciled. Yet, in a happier season, better expectations and brighter hopes were formed in the prospect of an union between Lady Henrietta, and the son of Lord and Lady Marlborough’s most intimate and valued friend. At this time, in her eighteenth year, the Lady Henrietta had already attracted many admirers. The intimacy of her parents with Lord Godolphin directed, however, her inclination to one object, Francis, Lord Rialton, the eldest son of the Earl. The attachment between these two young persons began at a very early age, and was viewed with approbation by the parents on both sides, although the advantages to be derived from the projected marriage were chiefly, in worldly respects, on the side of Lord Rialton; Godolphin having, two years previously, resigned his situation as first lord of the Treasury, at the time of Sir John Fenwick’s accusations, and, whilst he conducted the public finances, he had rather impaired than improved his own property. But similarity of political opinions, a close intimacy, mutual confidence and respect, rendered the prospect of a near alliance with Godolphin not only agreeable, but advantageous; and Marlborough, in his subsequent campaigns, and after Godolphin was reinstated in his office, experienced the benefit of possessing a friend at the head of that important department, in which Lord Godolphin, as first lord of the Treasury, aided all the great general’s designs, by a prompt attention to a supply of those means without which the most skilful projects could not have succeeded.
When Lady Henrietta had completed her eighteenth year, the marriage with Lord Rialton took place. The fortune of Lord Marlborough did not, at this time, authorise him to bestow a large portion on his daughter; yet he prudently and honourably declined the ample settlement which the Princess Anne, with kindness of intention, and delicacy of manner, offered to make in favour of the lovely bride. The sum which her royal highness proposed was ten thousand pounds; one half of which was accepted by her favourites, who added five thousand pounds to the liberal gift. And with an establishment ill suited to their rank, but probably sufficient for happiness, the young couple were obliged to be content.
Lady Anne Churchill, next in age to Lady Rialton, and according to Horace Walpole, “the most beautiful of all Lady Churchill’s four charming daughters,”[[317]] excelled her sister Henrietta in sweetness of disposition, as well as in external advantages. Her amiable manners, and the possession of mental qualities beyond her age, particularly endeared this beautiful and affectionate daughter to her parents. She was the object of admiration, as well as of affection. Lady Anne received, before her marriage, the flattering tribute of complimentary verses from Lord Godolphin, who delighted to relieve the duties of the great master of finance by the fascinating attempts of the poetaster.[[318]] Lord Halifax, of whose poetry, we must agree with Dr. Johnson, that “a short time has withered the beauties,”[[319]] celebrated also the charms of Lady Anne, in verses somewhat better, though not above mediocrity. Yet it was not the fate of this admired young lady, at first, to inspire that ardent attachment in the husband selected for her by her parents, which her beauty and her goodness of disposition merited.
Amongst the most intimate of Lord Marlborough’s friends, Robert Spencer, Earl of Sunderland, secretary of state and president of the council to James the Second, had proved himself, at the time of Marlborough’s disgrace at court, the most zealous of his advocates. Sunderland, who had encountered a variety of accusations for countenancing popery to please King James, and for betraying that monarch afterwards to William, was now in high favour with the reigning sovereign, over whom he exercised a remarkable ascendency. Although beloved neither by Whig nor Tory, his ministry was more efficient than any which succeeded it in the time of William. Of disputed integrity, but of acknowledged talents, Lord Sunderland was, however, constrained to bend beneath the violence of party. He withdrew about this time from public life, notwithstanding the earnest entreaties of the King that he would remain near him; and, fearing that in the attacks made upon him by the Tories he would not be supported by the Whigs, Sunderland fled from the censures for which he felt there was too real a foundation, in his conduct during the preceding reign.[[320]]