*

The lighter anecdotes and jokes interspersed through these Memoirs are told with great humour: but the sprightliness of many of them strikes more forcibly on the reader from their contrast with the serious matter into which they are interwoven. In referring our readers for them to the work itself, we can heartily recommend it to their perusal; assuring them that they will find in it a fund of instruction and entertainment, no where else accessible, respecting the period that is included in it. We close our extracts with the following sketch of the character of George II.: (vol. i. p. 152.)

The King had fewer sensations of revenge, or at least knew how to hoard them better, than any man who ever sat upon a throne. The insults he experienced from his own, and those obliged servants, never provoked him enough to make him venture the repose of his people, or his own. If any object of his hate fell in his way, he did not pique himself upon heroic forgiveness, but would indulge it at the expence of his integrity, though not of his safety. He was reckoned strictly honest; but the burning of his father's will must be an indelible blot upon his memory; as a much later instance of his refusing to pardon a young man who had been condemned at Oxford, for a most trifling forgery, contrary to all example, when recommended to mercy by the Judge, merely because Willes, who was attached to the Prince of Wales, had tried him, and assured him his pardon, will stamp his name with cruelty, though in general his disposition was merciful, if the offence was not murder. His avarice was much less equivocal than his courage; he had distinguished the latter early; it grew more doubtful afterwards; the former he distinguished very near as soon, and never deviated from it. His understanding was

not

* Some of these jokes are diverting enough, as for instance : When Crowle was once on a circuit with Judge Page, a person asked him if the Judge was not just behind him. He replied, "I do not know, but I am sure he never was just before."

The speech (of the Speaker of the House of Commons, in 1742, on the occasion of the Westminster election,) to the kneeling justices, was so long and severe, that the morning it was printed Sir Charles Hanbury Williams complained to him of the printers having made a grievous mistake. "Where? how? I examined the proof-sheet myself!" Sir Charles replied, "In the conclusion he makes you say more might have been said; to be sure you wrote it, less might have been said."

Soon after Mr. Winnington deserted the Tories, and had made a strong speech on the other side, Sir John Cotton was abusing him to Sir Robert Walpole, and said, "That young dog promised that he would always stand by us." Sir Robert replied, "I advise my young men never to use always." "Yet," said Cotton, stammering, "You yourself are very apt to make use of all-ways."

9

Soon after his first arrival in England, Mrs. * * *, one of the

bed

not near so deficient as it was imagined; but though his character changed extremely in the world, it was without foundation; for (whether) he deserved to be so much ridiculed as he had been in the former part of his reign, or so respected as in the latter, he was consistent in himself, and uniformly meritorious or absurd. His other passions were, Germany, the army, and women. Both the latter had a mixture of parade in them: he treated my Lady Suffolk, and afterwards Lady Yarmouth, as his mistresses, while he admired only the queen; and never described what he thought a handsome woman, but he drew her picture. Lady Suffolk was sensible, artful, and agreeable, but had neither sense nor art enough to make him think her so agreeable as his wife. When she had left him, tired of acting the mistress, while she had in reality all the slights of a wife, and no interest with him, the Opposition affected to cry up her virtue, and the obligations the King had to her, for consenting to seem his mistress, while in reality she had confined him to mere friendship; a ridiculous pretence, as he was the last man in the world to have taste for talking sentiments, and that with a woman who was deaf! Lady Yarmouth was inoffensive, and attentive only to pleasing him, and to selling peerages whenever she had an opportunity. The Queen had been admired and happy for governing him by address; it was not then known how easily he was to be governed by fear. Indeed, there were few arts by which he was not governed at some time or other of his life; for, not to mention the late Duke of Argyle, who a favourite by imposing himself upon him or brave; nor Lord Wilmington, who imposed himself upon him for the Lord knows what, the Queen governed him by dissimulation, by affected tenderness, and deference*; Sir Robert Walpole by abilities and influence in the House of Commons; Lord Granville by flattering

66

grew

bedchamber women, with whom he was in love, seeing him count his money over very often, said to him, Sir, I can bear it no longer; if you count your money once more, I will leave the room!"

* She always affected, if any body was present, to act (and he liked she should) the humble ignorant wife, that never meddled with politics. Even if Sir Robert Walpole came to talk of business, which she had previously settled with him, she would rise up, curtsey, and offer to retire; the King generally bade her stay, sometimes not. She and Sir Robert played him into one another's hands; he would refuse to take the advice of the one, and then when the other talked to him again on the same point, he would give the reasons for it which had been suggested to him; nay, he would sometimes produce as his own, at another conversation, to the same person, the reasons which he had refused to listen to when given him. He has said to Sir Robert, on the curtsies of the Queen, There, you see how much I am governed by my wife, as they say I am! Hoh! hoh! it is a fine thing, indeed, to be governed by one's wife!" "Oh, Sir," replied the Queen, "I must be vain, indeed, to pretend to govern your Majesty!"

66

him in his German politics; the Duke of Newcastle by teazing and betraying him; Mr. Pelham by bullying him, the only man by whom Mr. Pelham was not bullied himself. Who, indeed, had not sometimes weight with the King, except his children and his mistresses? With them he maintained all the reserve and majesty of his rank. He had the haughtiness of Henry VIII., without his spirit; the avarice of Henry VII., without his exactions; the indignities of Charles I., without his bigotry for his prerogative; the vexations of King William, with as little skill in the management of parties; and the gross gallantry of his father, without his good nature or his honesty. He might, perhaps, have been honest, if he had never hated his father, or had never loved his son!'

These volumes are decorated by a number of miniature portraits, with emblematical devices.

ART. II. Elements of Political Economy. By James Mill, Esq. Author of "The History of British India.' 8vo. pp. 235.

Baldwin and Co. 1821.

ALTHOUGH grammar is introductory to the knowlege of any

language, and facilitates its acquirement, the existence of the grammar implies a previous degree of perfection and stability in the language itself; since it assumes a general assent to certain established rules and principles which, when methodically arranged, are denominated the grammar of that language. We may surely be allowed to entertain very great doubts whether the science of political economy,-though now, indeed, generally, assiduously, and successfully cultivated on the Continent as well as here, has obtained such a degree of perfection and stability; and whether that general and undisputed recognition of its principles and rules exists, which is essential to the construction of a grammar. These doubts arise from observing that much of the employment of half the modern writers on political economy, both French and English, has been to stultify a great part of the doctrines of the other half: a very useful employment, too, it has been; and this work of slaughter is not yet complete, for although in truth alone the principle of vitality is absolutely indestructible, it is exceedingly strong and tenacious in error.

Short as the present work is, to engage in a regular examination of its doctrines would occupy much more space than we feel ourselves authorized in devoting to it; recollecting that most of the subjects on which it treats have been frequently and sometimes even elaborately discussed in our reviews of Lord Lauderdale, Ricardo, Gray, Purvis, Malthus, Godwin, Sismondi, Say, Ganilh, and various other writers. The sportsman does not beat his ground three or four times over in expectation of game, unless he is looking for a wounded

bird. Mr. Mill tells us that his object was to compose a school-book of political economy; to detach the essential principles of the science from all extraneous topics, to state the propositions clearly and in their logical order, and to subjoin its demonstration' (a very confident term) to each.' That the learner, also, should be free from the imposing influence of any celebrated names, he has judged wisely in quoting no authorities, but leaving the reader to fix his mind on the doctrine and its evidence solely. I cannot fear the imputation of plagiarism,' says he, because I profess to have made no discovery; and those men who have contributed to the progress of the science need no testimony of mine to establish their fame.' There is one quality in this book which cannot be too highly extolled; viz. the singular perspicuity of the style: it is, generally speaking, so clear that, however finely spun is the thread which connects the premises with the conclusion, it is not only visible even to dim optics, but most commonly traceable through all its convolutions.

6

Disclaiming, for the reasons above stated, all intention of a lengthened examination of this little work, yet, as two or three topics occur on which we do not coincide with Mr. Mill, a few observations may be allowed us in explanation of our dissent.

The two main inquiries in which the science of political economy is concerned are, first, that which relates to the Production of commodities, and, secondly, that which is the final object of production, namely, Consumption. There is, however, at least one intermediate object of inquiry, viz. the laws by which commodities are distributed. Mr. Mill, without much necessity, makes a fourth, Interchange, which is surely only a form of distribution. Accordingly, he divides his work into four chapters; the first examining the laws which regulate Production; the second, those which relate to Distribution; the third, those which respect Exchange; and the fourth, those which regulate Consumption.

We have paid a just compliment to the general perspicuity of the style of Mr. Mill, so peculiarly necessary in an elementary work: but we must say that the very first leaf of the first chapter contains a metaphysical obscurity of expression, which completely puzzles us. Labour, he says, produces its effects only by conspiring with the laws of nature: well and good: this is very intelligible, and only obscured by the attempt to illustrate it. It is found, he continues, that the agency of man can be traced to very simple elements: he can, in fact, do nothing more than produce motion :

He can move things towards one another, and he can separate them from one another; the properties of matter perform all the

rest.

rest. He moves ignited iron to a portion of gunpowder, and an explosion takes place. He moves the seed to the ground, and vegetation commences. He separates the plant from the ground, and vegetation ceases. Why, or how, these effects take place, he is ignorant. He has only ascertained, by experience, that if he perform such and such motions, such and such effects will follow. In strictness of speech, it is matter itself which produces the effects. All that men can do is to place the objects of nature, in a certain position. The tailor when he makes a coat, the farmer when he produces corn, do the same things exactly. Each makes motions; and the properties of matter do the rest. It would be absurd to ask, to which of any two effects the properties of matter contribute the most; seeing they contribute every thing, after certain portions of matter are placed in a certain position.'

6

What can all this mean; any thing beyond the simple fact that in making a coat, or a cabinet, as well as a loaf of bread, the labour of man is bestowed on the products of nature? "The tailor when he makes a coat, and the farmer when he produces corn, do the same things exactly. Each makes motions' (a strange phrase); and the properties of matter do the rest. What is the rest, so far as the tailor and his coat are concerned? The farmer deposits seed in the soil, the quickening and prolific properties of which produce the crop: but, when the tailor has cut out the sleeves and the skirts, and the back of his coat, and when he has placed them in contact with each other, do the properties of matter unite the pieces? We might think that Mr. Mill had just risen from the Zoonomia of Darwin, and filled his mind with the organic attractions and appetencies so poetically described by that ingenious and fanciful writer. The tailor sews the several parts of the coat together and it is made; what remains for the 'properties of matter' to do?

In the second chapter, we are inclined to think that Mr. Mill has over-rated the tendency of population to increase, and in a still greater degree has under-rated the corresponding tendency of capital. Where are the facts to bear out his statement that ten births may be regarded as not more than the number 'natural to the female species?" By the term 'natural number,' we must suppose him to mean the average number under the most favorable circumstances of actual, not of Utopian existence; for we know nothing of what nature would do under imaginary circumstances; we only know what she actually does under the most favorable circumstances of real existence. Where, then, is such an average to be found? Again, as to the increase of capital; this is derived from the excess of production beyond consumption. If any part

of