LINKS WITH THE PAST.
AT the opening of a new century the minds of some men look forward with hope, whilst others turn back- wards with a lingering regret. To these the ()harms of the past are more attractive than anticipations of the future; the atmosphere of the eighteenth more pleasing than that of the twentieth century. To these there is no greater pleasure than to have heard from eye-witnesses accounts of historic scenes or great events ; to be admitted to familiar intercourse with statesmen, diplomatists, or generals who have played their distinguished parts in the past. No written history or memoir can approach the interest of any account from the lips of an actor or spectator. As a child to have seen a very old or great man forms a link with the past which is more treasured as time goes on, and the great man is only con- sidered as a character in history. We have often thought that if the parents of young children would bear this in mind, they might produce a race whose early recollections would be
very interesting,—unless, perhaps, they became the most in- sufferable bores. The present writer has no more grateful recollection than that of having been taken as a child to see or to shake hands with celebrated men now long since dead and buried.
Each year that passes severs some of these links, and the scythe of Time mows down those who connect the younger with the older generations. It is but a few years ago and there were some living who could remember the French Revolution, a few others who had fought in the Napoleonic Wars, many others who had sat in the unreformed House of Commons. The days of Bonaparte and Nelson, the England of Fox and Pitt, the Parliament of Gatton and Old Sarum, seem to the young so distant that they forget that the single span of a man's life separates them from the present day. There have died within the last few years many who vividly remembered and had played their parts in those days. A child of ten might have conversed with any of these, for none that we shall mention died more than five years ago. Only last September there passed away Lady Georgiana Grey, who was born in 1801; the youngest daughter of the Whig statesman, her recollections extended over all but a century, and she survived eighteen Prime Ministers. The year before there died at Bath, Lady Mabella Knox, aged ninety-eight, a daughter of the first Earl of Kilmorey. She remembered the Jubilee of George III. She had been present at the corona- tion of George IV. She recollected the news of the burning of Moscow and the battle of Salamanca. She had rejoiced at the Peace in 1814. She had danced at Carlton House when the Prince Regent gave a ball for Princess Charlotte. After these ancients, Miss Perceval, one of the twelve children of the Prime Minister who was shot by Bellingham, seems almost youthful, for she was only born in 1805. Yet she could describe the tragic circumstances of her father's death and the reception of the Allied Monarchs in London. In the house near to Miss Perceval's at Ealing there died, shortly before, Mr. Spencer Walpole, a great-grandson of Sir Robert. He had already been called to the Bar a year after George IV. died, and was a Q.C. before most persons now living were born. The span of his life extended from the year after Trafalgar to the year after Queen Victoria's second Jubilee.
Many will remember the death of Mr. Charles Villiers, father of the House of Commons, who was born in 1802, and died at his house in Cadogan Place from the effects of a cold which followed the celebration of his ninety-sixth birthday.
school at Haileybury he had learnt history from Mackin- tosh, and political economy from Malthus. He had been an unsuccessful candidate for Kingston-upon-Hull before the Reform Bill; and his Parliamentary career extended from 1834, when he was elected at Wolverhampton, down to the day of his death. Yet the political career of several who sur- vived Mr. Villiers goes back to an earlier date. There was Lord Tankerville, who, as Lord Ossulston, had sat for the county of Northumberland with Lord Howick as his colleague. There was also Mr. Gladstone, who had repre- sented Newark in the first reformed Parliament. Both of these venerable figures were younger than Mr. Villiers, and both first became Members of the House at the General Election in December, 1832. In the same month as Mr. Gladstone there died Sir Thomas Acland, who was a few months older. He could describe life at Oxford in the " twenties," and was a fellow of All Souls by 1831. But none of these could boast of having sat in the unreformed House of Commons. Death has played havoc, within the last two years, with the small band of veterans that remained. The last Member for the rotten borough of Gatton only died in 1899. This was the Earl of Mexborough. In the same year died the Duke of Northumberland, who, as Lord Lovaine, had sat for the family borough of Beeralston in 1831. But these are almost juveniles in politics compared with the Earl of Mansfield, who died at Scone Palace a year before them. He had represented two constituencies before the Reform Act was passed. He had travelled on the Continent before he entered Parliament. At Moscow he had seen the coronation of Nicholas I. He was married before he became a candidate for the House of Commons ; and yet, before he was elected for Norwich in 1832, he had been Member for the boroughs of Aldborough and of Woodstock. This is a record which none can now surpass.
We turn with melancholy from these ancient political days to other walks of life. Many of our readers will remember the death of Miss Helen Faucit, the actress, who had trod the boards with Edmund Kean and learnt her art from Macready and Farren. Others will recollect Mr. Francis William Newman, a brother of the Cardinal, who was born before Pitt and Fox died, and was admitted to a fellowship at Balliol College in 1826. The last years of the nineteenth century have broken many other such links with the past. The death of Sir Charles Murray, who was born in 1806, ended a varied career, mostly spent in the diplomatic service. He had also read law in the chambers of Mr. Nassau Senior, and been a groom-in-waiting to the Queen at her accession. He was the first to bring a living hippopotamus to England. His knowledge of foreign Courts and politics went back to the most distant ages. He could recall the facetious sallies of Sydney Smith and the more serious conversation of Goethe, for he had enjoyed the friendship of both. Somewhat later there passed away, in her ninety-sixth year, Baroness von Levitzow, who also had known Goethe well. It was to her that the poet dedicated his " Trilogy of Passion." She was born at Leipzig in 1804 ; she lived till 1899. There can be very few living now who have seen the Emperor Napoleon, and fewer still who have conversed with him. Last spring there was announced the death of Mr. Thomas De Moleyns, Q.C., aged ninety-three. He was one of the few Englishmen who could boast in the last year of the nineteenth century that they had seen Napoleon the Great. As a boy he had been taken in a boat to row round the 'Bellerophon ' when the Imperial captive was on board. He could describe the demeanour and attitude of Napoleon, in a military uniform, pacing the deck, with his head bent forward and his hands clasped behind his back.
We wonder whether any veterans who fought at Waterloo are still living. A few months ago, as many will remember, the last link with the famous Waterloo ball was broken when Lady Louisa Tighe died, at the age of ninety-seven. She was a daughter of the fourth Duke of Richmond. She had been in Ireland when her father was Viceroy. She had ridden in the Phcenix Park with Sir Arthur Wellesley when he was Chief Secretary. She had been at Brussels when the famous ball was given by her mother. She had seen the Duke of Wellington start for the battlefield. There is a legend (denied by some, we believe) that she had girded on his sword. She had helped to nurse the wounded who were brought into Brussels after the battle.
Another great lady, four years younger than Lady Louisa, died a few years before. Lady Stanley of Alderley was born in Nova Scotia in 1807, and came to England before the year of Waterloo. A vigorous intellect and a wonderful memory were preserved to the end of her life. At Florence she had attended the weekly receptions of the Countess of Albany, the widow of the young Pretender ; from that distant period down to her last days she had known every one distinguished in politics, letters, or society.
We have so far mentioned no one who was born in the eighteenth century. There is one, however, who died not long ago : Vice-Chancellor Bacon was born in 1798. There must be many who have even seen him upon the Bench, from which he only retired in 1886. This venerable lawyer could describe the life of a law student at Gray's Inn as it was a couple of years after George III. died. He had survived the legal changes of ninety-seven years. He had watched innu- merable Judges raised to the Bench and die of old age. He had seen fourteen Lord Chancellors. He was fifteen years old when the office of Vice-Chancellor was created, and be lived to be the last of the race.
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