at parades in his Memoirs, and which he
uttered during his last hours, we must allow him to have cultivated the
classics. His letters are skilful, even masterly, cajoling, yet
characteristic. It is affirmed that in spite of a physiognomy vulgar in
feature, and coarse and malignant in expression, he could, like Richard
of Gloucester, obliterate the impression produced by his countenance,
and charm those whom it was his interest to please. His effrontery was
unconquerable: whilst conscious of the most venal motives, and even
after he had displayed to the world a shameless tergiversation, he had
the assurance always to claim for himself the merit of patriotism. "For
my part," he said on one occasion, in conversation with his friends, "I
die a martyr to my country."[124]

In after life, Lovat is described by a contemporary writer, "to have had
a fine comely head to grace Temple Bar." He was a man of lofty stature,
and large proportion; and in the later portion of his life, he grew so
corpulent, that "I imagined," says the same writer, "the doors of the
Tower must be altered to get him in."[125]

"Lord Lovat," says another writer, "makes an odd figure, being generally
more loaded with clothes than a Dutchman: he is tall, walks very
upright, considering his great age, and is tolerably well shaped; he has
a large mouth and short nose, with eyes very much contracted and
down-looking; a very small forehead, covered with a large periwig,--this
gives him a grim aspect, but on addressing any one, he puts on a smiling
countenance: he is near-sighted, and affects to be much more so than he
really is."

"His natural abilities," remarks the editor of the Culloden Papers,
"were excellent, and his address, accomplishments, and learning far
above the usual lot of his countrymen, even of equal rank. With the
civilized, he was the modern perfect fine gentleman; and in the North,
among his people, the feudal baron of the tenth century."[126]

It seems absurd to talk of the religious principles of a man who
violated every principle which religion inculcates; yet the mind is
naturally curious to know whether any bonds of faith, or suggestion of
conscience ever checked, even for an instant, the career of this base,
unprincipled man. After much deception, much shuffling, and perhaps much
self-delusion, Lord Lovat was, by his own declaration, a Roman Catholic:
his sincerity, even in this avowal, has been questioned. In politics, he
was in hea