obliged
to keep; the magnificence in which he must live; the idleness to which his
position as a peer of England bound him. Better for him had he been a
lawyer at his desk, or a clerk in his office;--a thousand times better
chance for happiness, education, employment, security from temptation. A
few years since the profession of arms was the only one which our nobles
could follow. The Church, the Bar, medicine, literature, the arts,
commerce, were below them. It is to the middle class we must look for the
safety of England: the working educated men, away from Lord North's
bribery in the senate; the good clergy not corrupted into parasites by
hopes of preferment; the tradesmen rising into manly opulence; the
painters pursuing their gentle calling; the men of letters in their quiet
studies; these are the men whom we love and like to read of in the last
age. How small the grandees and the men of pleasure look beside them! how
contemptible the story of the George III Court squabbles are beside the
recorded talk of dear old Johnson! What is the grandest entertainment at
Windsor, compared to a night at the club over its modest cups, with Percy
and Langton, and Goldsmith, and poor Bozzy at the table? I declare I
think, of all the polite men of that age, Joshua Reynolds was the finest
gentleman. And they were good, as well as witty and wise, those dear old
friends of the past. Their minds were not debauched by excess, or
effeminate with luxury. They toiled their noble day's labour: they rested,
and took their kindly pleasure: they cheered their holiday meetings with
generous wit and hearty interchange of thought: they were no prudes, but
no blush need follow their conversation: they were merry, but no riot came
out of their cups. Ah! I would have liked a night at the "Turk's Head",
even though bad news had arrived from the colonies, and Doctor Johnson was
growling against the rebels; to have sat with him and Goldy; and to have
heard Burke, the finest talker in the world; and to have had Garrick
flashing in with a story from his theatre!--I like, I say, to think of that
society; and not merely how pleasant and how wise, but how _good_ they
were. I think it was on going home one night from the club that Edmund
Burke--his noble soul full of great thoughts, be sure, for they never left
him; his heart full of gentleness--was accosted by a poor wandering woman,
to whom he spoke words of kindness; and moved by the tears of this
Magdale