“I am firmly of your opinion, my lord,” said I.
“Now,” pursued he, “the manner in which all wives are spoiled, is by giving them their own way at first; for whatever you accustom them to at the beginning, they will expect ever after: so, mind me! I’ll tell you the secret of ruling a wife, if known in time:—never do any thing for peace-sake: if you do, you’ll never have one hour’s tranquillity but by concession—mind that!”
“I firmly believe it,” exclaimed I.
“Well,” said he, “practise it, Barrington!”
Some time after, I met his lordship at Lamberton, Queen’s county, the seat of Sir John Tydd. He related the above story with much humour, and asked me if I had taken his advice.—“No,” said I.
“No! why not?” inquired his lordship.
“Because,” replied I, “a philosopher has an easier life of it than a soldier.”
I had the laugh against him, and the more particularly as his lordship had married a second wife, Miss Lawless (the present dowager); and I believe no husband in Ireland adhered less to his own maxim than did Lord Clonmel after that union. My own opinion on the subject ever was, that contradicting a woman never pays for the trouble of the operation: if she is a fool, it makes her worse; if a sensible woman, she does not require it; and if of an epicene temper, coaxing will do more in half an hour, than bullyragging (a vulgar but expressive Irish idiom) in a fortnight.
DUKE OF WELLINGTON AND MARQUESS OF LONDONDERRY.
My first acquaintance with the Duke of Wellington and the late Marquess of Londonderry, at a dinner at my own house—Some memoirs and anecdotes of the former as a public man—My close connexion with government—Lord Clare’s animosity to me suspended—Extraordinary conference between Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Cooke, and me, in August 1798—Singular communication—Offers made to me for succession as solicitor-general—I decline the terms proposed—Lord Castlereagh’s letter to me—Character of Mr. Pelham, now Earl of Chichester.