MEMOIRS OF SIR WILLIAM KNIGHTON.

CONTAINING much that is of an every-day or of a trivial nature these volumes are at the same time a valuable addition to class of works which throw a light upon life and man. They narrate the career of an individual who rose from humble circum- stances to be the favourite, and, what is rarer, the friend of a fastidious monarch. They also contain a selection from the letters which were addressed by persons of all ranks " to the man ethos the king delighted to honour;" and display in a very striking de- gree 4, How low, how little are the proud,

How indigent the great."

The life of WILLIAM KNIGHTON is rather instructive for the encouragement it offers to industry, perseverance, good manners, and good conduct, than remarkable for any extraordinary events. He was born in 1776. His family was respectable; but his father had been disinherited for irregular conduct and an imprudent

marriage ; and, according to Sir W mr.1 ast's own account, in a letter written long afterwards, "at one time he was in a measure deserted by the world, and a consultation was held whether he and his infant sister should be committed to the care of the parish." Better prospects, however, arose. His father died; his mother, a " woman of excellent principles, and strong common

sense," married again ; his grandfather left live hundred pounds for little WILLI AM'S education ; and his uncle, a surgeon-apothe-

cary at Tavistock, took him as an apprentice when he left school. In this situation, he zealously devoted himself to the study of physic and surgery ; kept up his school acquirements ; and appears to have set apart a certain day in the week for pursuing some particular branch of reading. After passing two or three years in London, assiduously attending lectures and walking the hospitals, lie returned to Devonshire ; procured a doctor's degree from Aberdeen; and started in Devonport as a medical practi- tioner. Here he recovered from an uncle a small freehold estate,

which, not having been mentioned in his grandfather's will, be- came Dr. KNIGHTON'S as heir at law. He also gradually worked himself into a respectable practice, and in 1800 married. De- sirous of a wider sphere of action, he determined in 1803 to settle in London. Here, however, a difficulty occurred : the College of Physicians refused to license him, although his Aberdeen degree Was the same as that under which FARQUHAR, DENMAN, and many others were practising. Nothing daunted by this spite, or untoward strictness, he wentdown to Edinburgh, studied for three years, and came back qualified in despite of the College. The connexions he haul made in Devonshire assisted him into practice; but his manner, we apprehend, must have been the great cause of his success. From an early letter on the death of an infant, (page 3-5,) he seems,. to have had strong natural powers of flattery, which subsequently were sobered down, but never left him. His portrait gives the idea of a man with much intelligence, good sense, and good nature, with a kindly disposition, but neither "too handsome," too precise, nor too penetrating. And as regards mere behaviour, that arbiter ele- gantiarunt GEORGE the Fourth pronounced, on the first intro- duction of Dr. Ksnowrote, that "lie was the best-mannered.me- (heal man" he had over met. But, be the causes what they might, he attained, after some struggles, a good practice. In 1809 he was chosen as medical attendant to the Marquis of WELLESLEY during his Spanish mission ; and three years aftet wards was introduced to the Prince Regent. Nothing, however, sprang from this visit till 1818, when he was appointed one of the Regent's physicians, and created a baronet. A few years afterwards, he was made Au- ditor of the Dutelly of Lancaster, and subsequently Keeper of the Privy Purse, on which he retired from medical practice. In this office he exerted himself, and finally with success, to check the thoughtless extravagance of his master, and to reduce his em- barrassments. He also became the medium of communication between the Sovereign and all non-ministerial applicants, (though occasionally even Ministers corresponded through him); the dis- penser of all private favours, and of all public too so far as they depended on the Royal will ; the negotiator of many secret trans- actions ; the engrosser, it was alleged in Parliament, of back- stairs influence ; and in brief, the king de facto. And it.is a very significant fact, that GEORGE the Fourth could never discover in the whole body of " nobility and gentry" a man whom he could trust, but found him at last in the middle class of life. Those who know the modest assurance of men, and the appli- cations that are made when there is any thing to be given away1 will readily conceive the numerous epistles that were addressed to Sir WILLIAM KNIGHTON in his character of favourite i.the ma jority, however couched, crying in reality, "Give, give, and al endeavouring to propitiate the mediator between GEORGE the Fourth and his subjects. Rarely have we met a more striking illustration of the truth, that tho value of objects is not in them- selves, but in our eetimation of them; or seen more clearly the thinly-veiled servilit), the eolished abjectness, to which greatness will stoop to solicit alms to mieister to its vanity or convenience. Of tlw whole batch of writers, ('x-pt Nmeriteova, who asks nothing.) from the Heir Present pi ke doe it to the author of " I3 road Grins," Goestitte comes out the host. _1 lid this (It is worth noting) is trace- able to his truth—he otitnip!s ot to disguise either his motives or his object. On a slender intreduction, the philosopher e rote e, request that a brotike. tieeitt ha appointed one of the poor Brothers of the Choy' erten: se n was an intrusion, and to ask a admits 1.);11 h. In a masterly manner he fatour ; and he b id sketches the leading nittlee s et his own and his brothers' biogra- phies; he explains the eN act ,:ate of their affairs ; and admits plainly, but without meal,ite affected independence, that whilst himself and another leotle r can live, they can onl) live, and that tohave " Nathaniel Glob% bachelor," appointed to the vacancy, will relieve their minds atilt their means. His letter of thanks, on Sir WILLIAM prom ptl■ gcanting the request, is equally good. The only proper way of ..vriving at the conclusions to be drawn from these Volumes, Is to read them ; for their impressions are

cumulative rather than And we are afraid our space will not permit a sufficient numlior of quotations to convey a full idea of the nature of even tlio-e impressions. We Will, however, try ; and begin with the " fountain of honour."

It is no news to sa■ that GEORGE the Fourth was an embar- rassed man ; that his own tastes and habits of indulgence, to- gether with the interestA flatteries or weak compliances of the persons about him, only plunged him deeper into entanglement. To free him from debts, and to save him from himself and his friends, was a task of considerable difficulty, and at first appears to have created positions ot n7! small delicacy. This letter, written during the first year of Sir ‘1" 1.1.iAaf's appointment to the Keeper- ship, evidently alludes to extravagance past, and extravagance in the wind.

"Sir—I yesterday received fr Lord F. C. a message that it was your Ma. inty's desire to see me at the Lodge this morning.

My first duty and impression waa, of course, to obey your Majesty's most gracious commands; but circhnistanems have arisen, connected with your Ma- jesty's iaterests, which oblige me to remain in town, and to forego that pleasure which is always so acceptable to toy feelings, namely, that of throwing myself at your Majesty's feet. "

lane so surrounded with cares on your Majesty's account, so separated from every kind of support but what I derive from my own intellectual efforts, that who I say happiness and myself are strangers. I do not mention it in the Ian- page of complaint, but only to hope that, when I venture to oppose any of your Majesty's commands, your"ilatesty will believe it always arises from those leelings of devotion and honesty which are the true characteristics of my nature toward, your Majesty. " I am aware it often happens, humble as I am, that it alone falls on me to rake the voice of opposition towards some of your Majesty's schemes. This, I fear, must gradually tend to separate your Majesty's mind, as far as agreeable- need feeling is concerned, from me; nevertheless, I do hope that your Ma- jesty will believe I am on every occasion influenced with the purest affection told most unsullied attachment tuwatds your Majesty's person.

" I have the honour Cu be, Sir,

"Your Majesty's must dutiful subject and attached servant,

" W. K."

" lOtb June 1822."

This independence, we infer, sometimes gave rise to scenes. According to Mr. DICKIE, a clerk and afterwards a partner in Courrs's house, the Royal banker's— "There were times when Sir William thought that he was getting over dif- ficulties, when large accounts came in, of which he was not aware, like thunder- claps. He has more than once on such occasions, in my presence, most respect- fully but firmly remonstrated with his Majesty upon the impossibility of ma• paging his affairs with any satistliction, or indeed propriety of conduct, if such unforeseen expenditure occurred. Sir %Villianes words, tone and manner, acted like magic upon the King. His Majesty, like a sensible wan, seemed obliged from his heart ; his whole detneatiout showed it."

It would seem from the following regal apology to Sir WILLIAM, that these interviews were not always so peaceable, at least in early times. The following note is not in the best taste as a piece ofcomposition, but it displays a placability which GEORGE the Fourth has not had credit for. Perhaps, after all, he would have been better with better men about him.

FROM TIIE KING.

Tou may easily imagine, warm and sincere as my affections are towards you, I have had but little rest since we separated last night. The feeling that I may possibly and unfortunately, in a hurried moment, when my mind and niy heart were torn in fifty different ways from fifty different causes, have let an unjust or a hasty expression escape me to any one, hut most especially to you, whom I to truly love, and who are so invaluable to me RS my friend, is to me a sensation much too painful to be endured. Therefore let me implore you to come to me, be it but for a moment, the very first thing you do thin morning ; for !shall hate myself until I have the opportunity of expressing personally to you those pure and genuine feelings of affection which will never cease to live In my heart so long as that heart itself continues to beat. I am much too '°haPPY to say more, but that I am ever your affectionate friend, " G. R." " C. It., Wednesday morning, eight o'clock, July 116,022." The eventual upshot was this curious authority— I hereby authorize and direct Sir William Knighton, Bart., Keeper of my r ivy Purse, to give notice to our several tradesmen, that they are not to re- ceive orders, or to furnish arty articles of furniture, &c. &e.c. &c. or to incur in y expense whatsoever from their different trades, where such expense is to be Provided for by my said Privy Purse, without receiving a specific order in writing for that purpose from the said Sir .William Knighton, Batt. ; and I do alsodirecgitriarnydamhority to the said Sir William Knighton, Bart., and order and arigrosurwvi.tihl I aanviile‘j:letausutrhie.,otbo undertaokettehe entire enanagensendt of my private affairs, observance relieving economy, that we may have the opportunity strict ifcrot from and rigid oursesltv embarrassments which it is not necessary to mention further in detail. We des thetefota• rely with confidence on the mud Sir William Knighton fur the strict performance and fulfilment of all our wishes on this head.

GEORGE R."

" Royal 'Amigo. October 2611,, 1522."

But this document has more than a curious personal and histo- rical value; for it shows how completely all the other and the more expensive branches of the Civil List are removed beyond the Sovereign's control. Here is a self-willed Monarch, with that strength and decision of purpose which age brings—in debts and difficulties, and anxious to be released from them, ate' with a no- minal income of 385.11001. a year, but unable to effect the retrench- ment of a single farthing in the departtnent of the Lord Steward, or f the Lord Chamberlain, or of the Master of the Horse : a fact %Owl) bliows ill a strikieg manner the truth of our tOrtner asser- tion, that all this expend it ure contributes nothing to t he Monarch's comfort, and proves that the gross extravagance of Queen Vies Tom A's Civil List was without necessity and excuse.

Here are some regal troubles, under the King's own hand. It weld(' seem that there is no royal road even to business—if it is to be done.

"Tranquillity.. I am sure you will be pleased to learn, has in general been the (order of the day since you left us. However, there have Wen, and I am fearful that they are still exi.ting, some difficulties and misunderstandings in the final arrangement of that business which has causal you 80 IMIC11 trouble and anxiety, and which at present do, and which, I fear, will still procrastinate the final adjustment until you return. " It is impossible to detail to you what cavillings there have been, and what strange crotchets have started up, and sometimes seemingly upon the merest trifles, among the lawyers, and indeed pretty lunch all the parties concerned ; such immemuiensiuv of talking backwards and forwards,-here and there,—the mis- take of a sentence, and even of a single WOld,—all which creates delays; and even if there be the possibility of correcting it and setting it to rights again afterwards, I think but little progress has yet been made; net I see the im- practicability and next to the impossibility of its being brought to any final issue, until the moment of your return, when by your good and kind advice it may in all likelihood be ultimately settled."

The King, it must be said, comes out as well as most of his sub- jects. The following extract from one of his many letters to KNIGHTON, exhibits a touch of consideration and kindness; although displayed towards men so inferior in station, that trhe. feeling perhaps is akin to that with which he might have re- garded an old spaniel.

" With your usual precaution, celerity, and zeal, you seem to have carried and settled, to my entire comfort and satisfaction, all the necessary and essential points respecting Windsor Castle and the King's Palace, as well as what to me is almost equally agreeable (as you state it) to the quietude and gratification of poor little Nash's feelings. " A little charitable impulse induces me to desire you to inquire into the dia. tressed circumstances of poor old O'Keefe, now ninety years of age, and stone- blind, whom I knew a little of formerly, having occasionally met him at parties of tny juvenile recreation and hilarity, to which he then contributed not a little. Should you really find hint 80 IOW 111 the world, awl so divested of all comfort as he is represented to be, then I do conceive that there can be no objection to your offering him, from me, such immediate relief, or such a moderate annual stipend as will enable him to close his hitherto long life in comfort, at any rate - free from want and absolute beggary, which I greatly fear at present is but too truly his actual condition and situation. Perhaps on many accounts and rea- sons, which I am sure I need not mention to you, this had best he effectuated by an immediate application through you to our lively little friend G. Colman; whose good heart will, I am certain, lead him to give us all the assistance he can, especially as it is for the preservation of one of his oldest invalided brothers and worshippers of the Thespian muse."

POMP HAVING PHYSIC.

" As to myself, (the King,) I am pretty well bodily; but I have little or no use of my poor limbs, for I can neither walk up nor down stairs, and am obliged to be carried, and in general to be wheeled about everywhere; for my power's of walking, and even of crawling about with crutches, or with the aid of a strong stick, are not iu the smallest respect improved since you last saw me; at the same time that my knees, legs, ankles, and feet swell more formidably and ter. ribly than ever. This, I am sure you will agree with me, ought now to be seriously attended to without delay, by some plan devised and steadily acted upon, in order to stop the further progress, and to remedy it effectually and finally ; for there is no question it is an increasing and progressive evil, (at least so 1 tear,) unless steps Le found, and that speedily too, of averting it."

Of the letters from the Royal Family, those of the Duke of CAMBRIDGE are plain and direct, and those of CUMBERLAND the most specific ; the few from YORK businesslike, and on the whole the best ; the Princess ELIZABETH writes like one whose heart is much better than her taste or her grammar ; and CLARENCE, WILLIAM the Fourth, cuts the worst figure of the whole. He is not only tasteless, but his warmth ebbs and flows according as any thing is to be gained. And see what a prayer for the "angelus ilk,- and how he puts it upon his wife! " St. James's, 301I1 April 1824. " Dear Sir—Ills Majesty having so graciously pleased to listen to my sug- gestion respecting the alteration for the Hanoverian Office at the Palace, I ves- ture mice more to trouble you on the point of the budding intended for that purpose. To the accommodation of the Dutchess, this additional slip at the back of our present apartments would be must to be wished and desired, and never can make a complete Hanoverian Office without our kitchen, which the King has so kindly allowed us to keep. Under this perfect conviction, I ven- ture to apply for this slip of building, which was intended for the Hanoverian office. I am confident his Majesty is fully aware of the inconvenience and unfitness of our present apartments here. They were arranged for me in 1809, when I was a bachelor, and without an idea at that time of may ever being mar- ried; since which (now fifteen years) nothing has been done to them; and you well know the dirt and unfitness for the Dutchess of our present abode. Under these circumstances, I earnestly request, for the sake of the amiable and excel- lent Dutchess, you will, when the King is quite recovered, represent the wretched state and dirt of our apartments, and the infinite advantage this slip would produce to the convenience and comfort of the Dutcher... . " No news is good news. I am therefore to hope and trust his Majesty advancing as we must wish him. God bless the King and yourself; and eve believe me, " Dear Sir, yours unalterably, WILLIAM." " To Sir William Knighton, Bart."

It may gratify the lovers of forms to know that the Sailor King

always kept up a sort of superscriptive distance. The Duke of YORK writes " Dear Sir William " CUMBERLAND, " Dear Knighton ;" CAMBRIDGE, and the llutchess of GLOUCESTER, " My dear Sir William ;" CLARENCE, "Dear Sir."

We must pass the Ministers, as dull writers on dull business; except CANNING, who seems to have kept up a correspondence to the King, half-private half-official, without regard to his col- leagues, or his Premier, lie complains of the mortal dulness of the House of Commons, (what would he say now !) and seems to have done what he could to throw his Majesty under personal obligations, even to going against his colleagues. See this letter, just after Scorr had done his best to stop the Government Small- note Bill for Scotland, projected at the time of the Panic. " F. 0., November 11th, 1926.

" My dear Sir—Sir Walter Scott is returned to England, as I learn from a note of Mr. Croker's, inviting me to meet Sir Walter at dinner next Friday. "Is it possible that Sir Walter may take that opportunity of speaking to me about his son ? If so, would it not be.advisable that I should be apprized of his Majesty's gracious interest in the young man's favour beforehand? "I will, of course, 'nuke it a point of finding the means to do what his Majesty wishes. But although Sir Walter Scott and I are old friends, and though his reputation and his misfortunes entitle him to every possible atten- tion, as a member of the Government, I shall be glad to have the protection of the King's commands in doing an act of hindness by Malachi .11Ialagromther.

" Ever, my dear Sir, most sincerely yours, " GEO. CANNING."

Here is another from CANNING, after Lord LIVERPOOL'S politi- cal decease; which contains an autobiographical point. " F. 0., March 3,1;1927.

" My dear Sir—The only ill effect of my attendance in the House of Com- mons on Thursday was a sleepless night ; a grievance which I do not remem- ber ever to have experienced to the same degree before. I was not feverish; I was not exhausted ; I was not even tired ; and I can generally get to sleep, put- ting aside whatever is upon my mind ; but Thursday night I could not. kit as if every limb from top to toe was alive, like an eel ; and I lay all night, not tossing or tumbling, but as broad awake as if it were mid.day. The con- sequence was, that I kept quietly at home (by Holland's advice) all yesterday, and did not go to the House of Commons; for which reason, I have not written to his Majesty—perhaps you will have the kindness to explain why. There WAR indeed nothing to report, except the second reading of the Duke of Cla- rence's Bill, by a majority of 128 to 39, almost without debate. All the rest of the sitting was occupied with petitions. Here is Luabington's report of it. " I am quite well this morning ; having (by order) dined more liberally yes- terday, and drunk a little wine, and afterwards slept like a top from eleven to seven. I rejoice in your good accounts of his Majesty, and am greatly relieved by what you say of yourself. "Ever must sincerely yours,

"GEORGE CANNING."

There are a good many letters from Scorr ; who does not im- prove, as we see more of him. He shows formal and forced in the more business-like communications ; attentive and pushing, almost to reiteration, in his own peculiar interests ; with the feudal reve- rence we last week spoke of, closely touching upon servility. Here is a letter remarkable for the postscript; which contains the aim of the whole, and says as delicately as words can say, "Remember my son in any vacancy."

" My dear Sir William—I have a circumstance to mention which concerns myself only, and therefore would be most unworthy of being mentioned to his Majesty, were it not that, as his Majesty has distinguished me by elevating my rank in society, I conceive his goodness will be gratified by knowing that the approaching marriage of my eldest son to a very amiable young lady, with a considerable fortune, promises to enable those who may follow me to support suitably the mark of honour which his Majesty has conferred on me.

" The lady's independent fortune is so far very valuable to me, that it permits my SOO to marry before my death, and gives me permission, if it please God, to look a generation further into futurity ; but these would be of little consequence, were I not satisfied, as I have every reason to be, with the good sense and amiable qualities of my future daughter, and my son pleased with her person aud ac- complishments.

" I can only add to these uninteresting details, that my son's bride is named Miss Jobson of Lock, which she soon exchanges for the more chivalrous name (if I may be allowed to say so) which his Alajesty lately distinguished with a baronetcy. I hope those who may succeed to that honour may always remem- ber by whom it was conferred, and be ready to serve their Sovereign by word, and pen, and sword, when wanted.

" Pray suppress this letter, if the communication be assuming too much upon his Majesty's encouraging goodness. I am sure the intelligence will be gratifying to you personally, even if it is not ploper to carry it elsewhere. I have the honour to he, dear Sir William,

" Your most faithful and obedient servant,

" WALTZ& SCOTT."

" Edinburgh, 21st January 1825."

"Perhaps long/it to add, that my son, who is warmly attached to his pro. fession, is to continue in the Army; and the young lady, though brought up in the character of an only child, has taken up the old ditty,

• Mount and go, mount and make ready. Mount and go, out be a soldier's lady.' So they pet off to loin the Fifteenth Human in Ireland, so soon as circum- stances will permit."

The gracious and guarded answer—

"January 25th, 1925.

" Dear Sir Walter—I am honoured with the commands of the King to con- vey to you his Majesty's very kind regards, and to express the pleasure his Majesty feels at any circumstance that can add to your own personal happiness, or assist in securing the general welfare and prosperity of your family.

" His Majesty Was graciously pleased to observe, that your OWII genius, so distinguished and so remarkable, would shed a never-fading lustre on that here- ditary rank which his Majesty holes your son will live both to honour and to enjoy."

"To Sir Walter Scott, Bart."

The advancement of Scorr's second son was in a certain degree put upon Sir WILLIAM; and forms the subject of several letters. Here is a fragment of one- " It is my earnest wish to see him engaged in the public service ; but should an employment in any of the offices be more easily attained than any thing in the diplomatic line, I should be equally pleased. He would have his sister's house to reside in, and be therefore free from the temptations arising out of islIentas and want of society. He has also a strong bias towards literature; and may, I think, prove useful upon those occasions when the efforts of lac 'arm men are supposed to hove some effect on public opinion."

Sir WALTER, too, appears to have had no objection to cont1j. bute to back-stairs influence himself. This proposition to sway the politics of the King's " irresponsible " adviser, was made during his Majesty's visit to Scotland- " My dear Sir—I have thought anxiously on what you said last night; am

if you wish such information as I can give revecting Scotland, I will h i oe

great pleasure in writing you a letter or two, (for t will draw to same length,) in which I will endeavour, as candidly and impartially as is in my power, to show you how this country now stands in its various political relations, it scarcely necessary to add, that such a communication must be strictly confides_ tial, and used only for your own private regulation. " I would be glad to know your particular address, and your wishes on dill matter, by a line dropped in the post-office, addressed to me Abbotsford, Melrose.

" This is a vile day ; but it is right Scotland should weep when pasting

with her good King. " Always, dear Sir, very much yours, " WALTER SCOTT."

" Thursday morning."

Let US drop down to GEORGE COLMAN the Younger. It may be in the recollection of some of our readers, that Sir MARTIE ARCHER SHEE wrote a tragedy, which "Broad Grins" refused to license, on the ground of its dangerous tendencies ! It is probabls that the Licenser's loyalty outran even that of the King's friend, or of the King himself; for some question seems to have bees raised, which gave COLMAN the opportunity of writing these re. marks of

• PLAYWRIGHT ON THE DANGER OP PLAYS.

"29511 February 1824; 5, Melina Platte, Westminster ROisi, " Mr. Colman presents his compliments to Sir William Knighton, midis much gratified by Sir William having expressed a wish to see his short reroute on Alasco, a copy of which he has now the pleasure to enclose. " Although the ferment of the times has greatly subsided, still, plays which are built upon conspiracies and attempts to revolutionize a state, stand upos ticklish ground ; and the proposed performance of such plays is to be corium- plated with more jealousy, when they portray the disaffected as gallant hero and hapless lovers. Thus drawn ad cuplandum vulgus, their showy qualities and tender distresses of the heart throw a dazzle and an interest round their sedition; while they preach up the doctrine that government is tyranny, tlut revolt is virtue, and that rebels are the righteous. Alasco, la the tragedy of the same name, is a character of the above de. scription, and Walsingham is set up against him as a contrast. Whenever there two gentlemen meet, there is an effithion of claptrap sentiments between them, in the alternate support of Loyalty and Radicalism ; and theypri;ne in a pro and con dialogue, vying with each other, speech by speech, by turns, like a coupk of contending swains in an eclogue. III respect to their good and evil influence over an audience, they are the Messieurs Bane and Antidote of the tragedy; and from a tragedy that needs so much counter-poison for the chance India neutralizing its arsenic, the deducement to be made as to its dangerous tendency is very obvious."

A variety of other letters allure us,—royal, noble, physical, artistical, especially a rich specimen of Sir THOMAS LAWRENCII, "all about" his Most Christian Majesty when sitting for a pot- trait painted by desire of GEORGE the Fourth, and how his Most Christian Majesty, immediately on his entrance, inquired most particularly about the Defender of the Faith, &c. There is also a politic letter from Lord BROUGHAM, pressing for the patronage of the Useful Knowledge Society ; several from SOUTHEY, one esp. cially full of conceit; and two or three from Sir W. HAMILTON, respectful but independent, for though suggesting a subscription, he is asking no favours: and indeed it may be observed, that the "writers," whether individually or collectively, show forth the best, from their command of language and powers of statement The details of these points, however, and of several others, we must pass by. It will naturally be asked, what effect all these things pro- duced upon KNIGHTON'S mind ? They sobered it. As a youth and a young man, he was ambitious of worldly success. When he attained it, he very quickly formed a truer estimate of the un- satisfactory nature of mere worldly greatness, partly from obsess- ing its effects upon himself, partly from seeing its operations upon Majesty. In his letters to his wife and children, and in the records of his journal, he is constantly wishing for the quiet ea• joyments of domestic life, and speaking of the affections as the onfy things which can give permanent happiness. It is easy, in- deed, to glean from his passing descriptions the unsubstantial character of public pageants, and courtly parties, that neither por sess the social joyousness of convivial pleasures nor the inteiest of actual affairs. And as for "greatness," he remaiks on the pleasure which the present of an old sword had brought to his son—" it is gratifying when the little things of life give an Im. pulse to happiness, for the greater concerns of it can give none.. That with his quiet sagacity, simple tastes, and strong domestic affections, coupled with his favourable position for observing..1.4 he should have been able to "look shallow greatness through, is not surprising. The wonder is, that he did not thoroughly despise its possessors and its seekers. But no trace is visible, in what he committed to paper, of his having formed a very low or degrading estimate of any individual; whilst we may everywhere trace a thoroughly human opinion of humanity, a disposition 03 put the best light upon men and motives, and to assist anyb.odY so far as his immediate means allowed him. From various little unconscious notices in his journals and family letters, we see that he was the confidant of all sorts of people, whom he casually met in public conveyances, or at inns. And in one of his lata journies to Paris, for change of scene after the King's death, total stranger placed his sister under his charge, who was going to visit a friend at St. Omer's. In social and domestic life, his conduct was unimpeachable. He retained the memory of his old friendships ; he had no fooltsh shame about his early struggles ; his wife, his children, and at last his grandchildren, were rarely in his leisure moments absent from his thoughts ; and he often, ere going to bed after a fatiguing day, snatches a moment to write to them. In early life his In- dustry was

great and spontaneous, in later times upon compul- sion; and he says that at one time four hours' sleep sufficed him. ja his youth he wrote poetry; and he seems to have been a good- natured but a discriminating critic both in literature and art. When young, his reading in English and the learned languages was considerable : it does not appear whether he kept it up, but lie never shows himself deficient. His medical acquirements were, for his (era, considerable; but he came to what we fancy is the true conclusion—that the practice of physic, putting aside sur- er) has advanced little since the ancients, and that it is mostly g, empirical, depending upon the experience and sagacity of the in- dividual, and not reducible to any certain rules.

Under the excitement of the Reform Bill, KNIGHTON'S politics were strongly Conservative. In quieter times, he was liberal and large in his views. He was always religiously inclined' and to- wards the close of life this feeling of course increased. The last pages of his journal consist of little more than religious re- flections, and accounts of the different sermons he heard. To such an extent were his notions of the spiritual world carried, that be at last attributed insanity to " Satanic influence."

We will close this section with a few extracts illustrative of his private feelings, his mental character, or of men with whom his position brought him into contact.

THE GUELPIIIC oftnra.

"Remain quietly at the Cottage. I shall see you as soon as possible after my arrival. The King has this day conferred on use the second order of the Guelph. How comical Wall is ! I cannot help smiling. I wish my poor dear mother vu alive. Alai! we cannot have every thing."

RICHES AND POVERTY—OLD REMEMBRANCES.

"I do not know what to make of —'s match, nor can I make out whether it was proceeding with the approbation of her parents. It does not follow that riches produce happiness ; but it follows that poverty produces most painful embarrassments. however, riches and poverty are relative terms. I do not consider three men-servants in livery as denoting happiness or wealth; nor du I consider two maid-servants, and a fresh joint of meat twice a week, as detin. leg poverty. We have played the fiddle to both tunes."

KNOWLEDGE OF TI1E WORLD.

"It is nets little difficult, to a mind pure and unaccustomed to the decep- tive intricacies of human conduct, to observe the crooked ways necessary to he purtued for the purpose of detecting fraud and villany. An honest mind shrieks from the machinery necessary to be blended with ttausactions of this nature: the conscience is under a constant alarm, lest its motives, thus mixed with vice, should suffer a taint from the source of that corruption which it is its wish to counteract and destroy. It is truly remarkable how quick all the perceptions of sense become in those whose daily occupations and habits are to trace out the ci ooketl ways of dishonesty. Thele is nothing that escapes them ; they produce trick for trick with a rapidity which is ti uly surprising."

BYRON.

" I was Lord Byron's medical attendant for some time previously to his mar- riage. One morning, on making him my accustomed visit, I found the table at which lie was writing covered with printer's proof-sheets, scraps of manu- script verses, tke. On my being announced, lie neither raised his head nor the pencil from the paper he was rapidly scribbling ; but said, 'Be so kind as to take a book, and be silent for two minutes. A longer time had scarcely dapted when he threw down the pencil with an air of satisfaction, exclaiming, 'I have done it at last !' He apologized for claiming a poet's indulgence, say- ing, that the last four lines of that stanza had given him more trouble than the whole of the poem besides ; adding, The right words came into my head just m your carriage drove up.' " His Lordship then rose, and, with a smile, said abruptly, ' Knighton, what do you think I am going to do ? I am going to marry.' I replied, am sorry to hear it, my Lord., ' The d—I you are! And why should I not ?' Because I do not think you are constituted to be happy in married life.' Ile looked grave; and after a pause said, I believe you are right; but the ladies think otherwise,' (alluding to his sister, Mrs. L.) ' However, the die is cast ; for I have presented myself in due form to the lady's papa. I had an amicable reception. The only personal question put to me wao when I was mounting my bone: Sir Ralph called after me Pray, my Lord, how do you pronounce your osme? Barton or By-ron?' I replied, BY, Sir, spell!' by, all the world over.'"

THE DIAZ ON TliE LORD MAYOR'S DAY.

"I waited on the Duke of Wellington, and found his Grace glad to see me, and in good spirits. The ground he took on the subject of the Lord Mayors dater was, that he advised the King and Queen not to go, because the proba- bility was that bloodshed would have happened in their presence. "'In regard to myself,' he said, '1 had no desire to be massacred ; which *odd have happened. I would have gone, if the law had been equal to pro- tect ins; but that was not the case. Fifty dragoons on horseback would have dune it; but that was a military force. if firing had begun, who could tell Where it was to end? I know what street-firing is : one guilty person would fill, awl ten innocent be destroyed. Would this have been wise or humane, for t little bravado, or that the country might not be alarmed for a day or two ? It is all over now, and in another week or two will be forgotten.'" [The Great Captain was out in his reckoning here, but he had to calculate on nand.]

ilonstersdiminish when approached ; and it really does not seem,

1 art er all, that "tire power behind the Throne" is such a bugbear tus Parliamentary orators, all afire with patriotism, have painted it. In the case of perfect Ministerial virtue, it would no doubt he mischievous ; but commanding genius would defy or overawe it ; and in common cases, without it an unscrupulous Premier might 611 the Palace with his dependents and creatures, and shut out MI truth and all knowledge from the Royal mind, except such as he chose should reach it. NV ith an holiest private" King's friend,"

this cannot he ; and in the case of a roue, o the only result is that one knave checks another. 0 ,