“I wonder,” thus wrote the Earl of Shrewsbury from Italy, “that a man can be found in England, who has bread, that will be concerned in public business. Had I a son, I would sooner breed him a cobbler than a courtier, a hangman than a statesman.”[[384]]

Lord Somers had no opportunity of evincing how far his sentiments in this respect agreed with those of the noble Earl. He never married, and his moral character shared in the general contamination of the age.[[385]] The Duchess of Marlborough, in her opinions of the Whigs, comments severely on his conduct in this respect; even whilst he was seated on the woolsack, he offended the laws of society, and injured his best interests by his example.[[386]] But her insinuations against his integrity as a chancellor were refuted, by the unblemished probity which all historians have attributed to this eminent and upright, but, as it must unhappily be allowed, not wholly irreproachable man.

Lord Halifax was the other Whig member of the council who was dismissed at the same time with Somers. These noblemen were both, at that time, the personal friends of the Earl and Countess of Marlborough; yet it was impossible, the Countess declares, to introduce Lord Somers into the administration until near the close of Marlborough and Godolphin’s influence with the Queen.[[387]]

Lord Somers, bland and courteous, never offending in word or look, humble, as if unconscious of his great abilities, and yielding to others far inferior to himself in judgment and knowledge, was not enslaved by the talents, the beauty, and the power of Lady Marlborough; and, even at this time, he was secretly disgusted by her arrogance and love of domination. He submitted to the will of the Queen, as manifested in his dismissal, with a lofty calmness, which gave that act of her Majesty the semblance of an indignity, disgraceful to her judgment, rather than of a mortification imposed upon Somers. Nor did the slights of worldly friends, and the taunting opposition of foes, weaken his resistance to those measures of which he disapproved, or abate his ardour to promote schemes of which he augured well, whether proposed by a party who had deserted him, or by adversaries who rejoiced in his adversity. Repressing the impulses of a temper naturally impetuous, he permitted the extensive information which he possessed concerning all the political interests of Europe, his profound knowledge as a lawyer, and his manly eloquence, still to be useful in the service of his country; and his great character stood unsullied by petulance; a mark for envy, which could not sap its noble foundations, although it might by calumny injure and deface its exterior. But whilst Lord Somers thus encountered unmerited contumely, his companion in the loss of office, Lord Halifax, was not so resigned to the loss of an importance on which his vanity rendered him dependent for comfort.

“Mouse Montague,”[[388]] as Lady Marlborough, writing after their estrangement, contemptuously calls Lord Halifax, was descended from the house of Manchester, but, being a younger brother, his patrimony amounted to fifty pounds a year only. With this, as the Duchess remarks, he “could make no great figure.”[[389]] His name was given him for a political work, which first brought him into notice; for it was the fashion of the day to attach some appellation to the great men who most attracted public attention. Even the pulpit was sometimes the origin of such appropriations; and the great Godolphin is said to have been mortified and enraged by the addition of “Volpone” to his other designations, affixed to him by a sermon preached by Dr. Sacheverel.

Mr. Montague, endowed with his humble title, soon rose into fame. He became a member of parliament, and attracted the notice of Godolphin. He had abilities which recommended him to the notice of that able minister. His knowledge of finance was accurate; and he displayed minor qualifications which were serviceable, when conjoined with those of others, though they might not have enabled him to stand alone. Montague exercised the arts which please, and possessed the talents which dazzle. It would be presumptuous to say of the man whom Addison extolled, and whom Steele described, (in a dedication be it remembered,) as “the greatest of living poets,”[[390]] that he had, as Swift said of Lord Sunderland, but an “understanding of the middling size.” But he was, as Pope observes, “fed with dedications,” though he does not appear, from all accounts, to have been very willing to recompense his flatterers by feeding them in return. As a politician, he was timid and uncertain, because governed more by a desire for his own interest, than by a fixed principle. His oratory was energetic as well as elegant; but his conduct wanted the vigour which gave expression to his language only. His patronage of literature and of literary men, however it may have been ridiculed, was the most respectable feature in a character which cannot stand the test of examination. His poems, with the exception of two, were written upon public events, in which the views of a politician were mingled with the gallantry of a man of the world. It is not to be expected that a poem on the death of Charles the Second, or an ode on the marriage of the Princess Anne, should display much inspiration. His lordship’s verses on the Toasting Glasses of the Kit-Cat Club are allowed by Horace Walpole, with contemptuous brevity, to be “the best of the set.” His “knack of making pretty ballads,” which Lady Marlborough graciously ascribed to him, elevated as it was by flattery into excellence, was not the only social talent which Lord Halifax possessed. He read aloud admirably; and Lord Godolphin, having a good deal of that business to do, employed him frequently in this way. His manners, notwithstanding that the Duchess of Marlborough compares him, for ill-breeding, to Sir Robert Walpole, were acknowledged to be elegant. His disposition was social; and, where circumstances did not tend to draw money from his pocket, he was benevolent. He had the merit (ascribed to him by Steele, who sullied the just praise by the subsequent flattery) of having, “by his patronage, produced those arts which before shunned the light, into the service of life.”[[391]] To his exertions, as first commissioner of the Treasury, the stability of paper credit and the improvement of the crown were due. He projected the national library; and, to bring his merits to their climax, he had the honour of sharing an impeachment with Somers, and of defending himself against it with success.

Lady Marlborough encouraged the advances made by Lord Halifax to procure her favour, and courted his regard in return. His predominant weakness was a love of female admiration; and although, as the Duchess, in her old age, and when there was no Lord Halifax to show himself, or to hear her remarks, observed, “he was a frightful figure,” yet he “followed several beauties who laughed at him for it.”[[392]] Such were her expressions when parties and politics pleased no longer. In her younger and busier days, the manœuvring Lady Marlborough humoured the politician and the coxcomb, by “projecting marriages and other allurements.”[[393]] “She came,” says Cunningham, “one evening to his lordship’s country villa, as if by accident, bringing with her performers and instruments to compose a concert, which lasted till late in the night.”[[394]] The Italian music, then lately introduced, engrossed the fashionable world; and so busied in the acquisition, and with the patronage of this newly-imported taste, were even politicians, that the enemies of the Duke of Marlborough gave out that men of no experience—men frequenting the theatres, squandered the public money, as well as their own, and mismanaged public affairs. Lady Marlborough attended the numerous entertainments with which Halifax, combining profit with pleasure, treated the citizens, with whom he possessed much interest. The ladies all smiled upon the noble poet, who managed his costly galas with skill and effect. But the thrifty politician (careful and covetous, as many persons are in private who passionately love display) ate upon pewter when alone, that his plate might not be injured by too much rubbing. Indeed, according to Lady Marlborough, he did worse; for he sometimes paid the authors whom he patronised, with presents given by others, the merit of which he took to himself.[[395]]

Lord Halifax had not, at this period of his life, experienced how unsafe it is to lay bare the weaknesses of the heart of man to that dangerous being, a female wit. Self-interested, vain, restless, petulant, and even almost absurd, as he was, we cannot suppose him devoid of some good qualities, which secured him the confidence of Godolphin, and the esteem of Somers; yet the well-known and, in their way, almost unequalled lines of Pope will be called to recollection.

“Proud as Apollo on his forked hill,

Sat full-blown Buffo, puff’d by every quill;