Art. IV. Political and Literary Anecdotes of his awn Times. 
By Dr William King, Principal of St Mary Hall, Oxon. 
Second Edition. Svo. pp. 268. London, Murray, 1819. 

"Prom the Revolution to the accession of his present Majesty, 
4- with the exception of a very few years, the Tories were in 



1319. Br King's Memoirs. 7.5 

active ami steady opposition not only to the ministers of the 
Crown, but in reality also to the individuals who had been 
called to wear it. At the same time, when we consider them as 
a party, whatever we may think of their principles, we must allow 
their conduct to have been, generally speaking, able, honourable 
and steady; nor did the slavish nature of their doctrines at all 
engender, as long as they were kept out of place, that paltry and. 
timeserving spirit whieh has too uniformly distinguished their 
demeanour, since the termination of the disputes respecting the 
succession restored them to their natural situation. The learrl- 
ed person whose posthumous work now lies before us, was a Tory 
of the old school, having passed his whole life exactly in the evil 
days of exclusion from office; for he was born in I6b>5, and died 
in J 763. The liberality and independent feelings which appear 
in many of his remarks, are probably to be traced to this source;, 
but they are not the less deserving of praise from us, and of at- 
tention from the partisans of the same school, who now combine 
with Toryism the mean propensities of mere place-hunters, whieh 
the older Tories despised. ' At no time of my life, either in Eng- 

* land or Ireland, either from the present or any former govern- 

* ment, have I asked, or endeavoured by any means to Obtain, 

* a place, pension, or employment oi any kind. I could assign 

* many reasons for my conduct ; but one answer I have always 
' ready: I inherited a patrimony, which I found sufficient tl 
' supply all my want*, and to leave me at liberty to pursue those 

* liberal studies which afforded me the most solid pleasures in 
' my youth, and are the delight and enjoyment of my old age^ 

* Besides, 1 always conceived a secret horror of a state of servi- 
' lity and dependence : and I never yet saw a placeman or a 

* courtier, whether in a higher or lower class, whether a priest 

* or a layman, who was his own master. ' Advert, ix. x f 

We are informed that the manuscript from which this work 
is printed, has been compared with the unquestionable hand- 
writing of the Doctor, in the account-books of his College ; 
that it was in the possession of two ladies, his relations ; and 
that ' from some minute additions and corrections of the lan- 
guage, ' (and the editor might have added, from the existence of 
a preface), little doubt can be entertained of the author having 
intended it for publication. The preface is written in his seventy- 
sixth year, and informs us, that the anecdotes were set down 
during hours of confinement from the infirmities of old age; 
that most of them were within his own knowledge, and the rest 
derived from sources to which he could trust. They are related 
in an easy and agreeable manner, and follow each other like a 



76 Br King's Memoirs. July 

table-talk, without any regard to order, or merely with that kind 
of connexion which arises from one story suggesting another. 

The first anecdote in the volume relates to Bishop Atterbury, 
of whom, from similarity of principles, our author is a great ad- 
mirer ; and the reader will immediately detect a slight inaccu- 
racy in it. 

' In 1715 I dined with the Duke of Ormonde at Richmond. 
We were fourteen at table. There was my Lord Marr, my Lord 
Jersey, my Lord Arran, my Lord Landsdown, Sir William 
Wyndham, Sir Redmond Everard, and Atterbury Bishop of 
Rochester. The rest of the company I do not exactly remember. 
During the dinner there was a jocular dispute (I forget how it was in- 
troduced) concerning short prayers. Sir William Wyndham told 
us, that the shortest prayer he had ever heard was the prayer of a 
common soldier just before the battle of Blenheim, " O God, if there 
he a God, save my soul, if I have a soul ! " This was followed by a 
general laugh. I immediately reflected that such a treatment of the 
subject was too ludicrous, at least very improper, where a learned 
and religious prelate was one of the company. But I had soon an 
opportunity of making a different reflection. Atterbury, seeming 
to join in the conversation, and applying himself to Sir William 
Wyndham, said, " Your prayer, Sir William, is indeed very short : 
but I remember another as short, but much better, offered up like- 
wise by a poor soldier in the same circumstances, " God, if in the 
day of battle I forget thee, do thou not forget me ! " This, as Atter- 
bury pronounced it, with his usual grace and dignity, was a very gen- 
tle and polite reproof, and was immediately felt by the whole com- 
pany. And the Duke of Ormonde, who was the best bred man of 
his age, suddenly turned the discourse to another subject. ' pp. 7—9. 

Now, the second prayer was not ' one offered up by a poor 
soldier ' without a name, but by Lord Astley, a distinguished 
cavalier, before he charged at the battle of Edgehill; and the 
words of the prayer, as given by Hume, after Warwick, are 
materially different. ' O Lord ! thou knowest how busy I must 
be this day. If I forget thee, ' &c. Upon this the freethinking 
historian remarks, with his accustomed naivete, i there were 
certainly much longer prayers in the Parliamentary army; but 
I doubt if there was so good a one. ' 

The good Doctor having always been a water-drinker him- 
self, is extremely severe upon any indulgence in strong liquors; 
and we cannot help thinking, that this austerity has made him 
greatly exaggerate what he terms ( the pernicious habit of drink- 
ing drams, ' which he plainly insinuates that Pope had con- 
tracted. The following is the anecdote which he couples with 
the remark. 
' \ Pofe and I, with my Lord Orrery and Sir Harry Beding- 



J 8 1 9. Dr K ing's Memoirs. 7 7 

field, dined with the late Earl of Burlington. After the first 
course, Pope grew sick, and went out of the room. When dinner 
was ended, and the cloth removed, my Lord Burlington said he 
would go out, and see what was become of Pope. And soon after 
they returned together. But Pope, who had been casting up his 
dinner, looked very pale, and complained much. My Lord asked 
him if he would have some mulled wine or a glass of old sack, which 
Pope refused. I told my Lord Burlington that he wanted a 
dram. Upon which the little man expressed some resentment against 
me, and said he would not taste any spirits, and that he abhorred 
drams as much as I did. However I persisted, and assured my Lord 
Burlington that he could not oblige our friend more at that in- 
stant than by ordering a large glass of cherry-brandy to be set before 
him. This was done, and in less than half an hour, while my Lord 
was acquainting us with an attair which engaged our attention, Pope- 
had sipped up all the brandy. Pope's frame of body did not pro- 
mise long life ; but he certainly hastened his death by feeding much 
on high-seasoned dishes, and drinking spirits. ' pp. 12, J 3. — He also 
blames Swift tor drinking too much wine, although lie allows 
that he did not exceed a pint of claret. 

It may easily be imagined that our author's pen is dipped in 
gall when he speaks of Sir Robert Walpole ; yet the only spe- 
cifick charge which he makes against him, is the old one of go- 
verning by corruption, and injuring publick morality by his un- 
disguised manner of deriding all publick virtue. That these 
things are founded in fact, wc apprehend must now be admit- 
ted ; yet there seems hardly any doubt that this able and most 
useful statesman only differed from his predecessors, and his 
immediate successors, in the greater frankness with which he 
avowed practices common to them all, from the time when the 
plan of ruling by parliamentary influence was substituted for 
the older scheme of government by prerogative. He recounts 
a whimsical instance of the plain and downright manner in which 
the grossest bribery was practised in those clumsy times. * I 
am here ' (lie says, after speaking of iEolus having been bribed 
by Juno with a nymph, to which present he makes no allusion 
in his reply), k 1 am here put in mind of something similar, 
' which happened in Sir Robeict Walpole's administration. 

* He wanted to carry a question in the House of Commons, to 
' which he knew there would be great opposition, and which 
' was disliked by some of his own dependants. As he was pass- 
' ing through the Court of Requests, he met a member of the 

* contrary party, whose avarice lie imagined would not reject a 
'' large bribe. He took him aside, and said, " Such a question 
•* comes on this day ; give me your vote, and here is a bank 
" hill of 2QQQL "—which he put into his hands. The member 



?8 Dr King's Memoirs. July 

* made him this answer. " Sir Robert, you have lately serv- 
" ed some of my particular friends; and when my wife was last 
" at court, the King was very gracious to her, which must 
" have happened at your instance. I should therefore think 
'" myself very ungrateful (putting Me banJc bill into his pocket) 
" if I were to refuse the favour you are now pleased to ask 
" me. " pp. 27, 2S. 

The rash stiying ascribed so currently to Walpole, that every 
man had his price, is brought home to Lira upon very satisfac- 
tory evidence, in one instance at least, by Dr King, who had it 
from William Leveson, Lord Gower's brother. Leveson hap- 
pened to be standing next Sir Robert in the House of Lords 
during a warm debate; when the latter observed — ' You see 
« with what zeal and vehemence these gentlemen oppose, and 
i yet I know the price of every man in this House except three, 
« and your brother is one of them. ' Our author adds, that 
Lord Grower afterwards showed he was quite unworthy of a 
place in this triumvirate — and gives a very bitter account of his 
well known defection, to the consequences of which he unhesi- 
tatingly ascribes his death. The bitterness which ever and anon 
breaks out against the Whigs, makes an amusing part of these 
anecdotes. He is inveighing, for instance, against avarice, and 
lie gives his examples; but almost all from that party. Thus, 
Lord Hardwicke, ' who is said to be worth 800,000/., sets the 
4 same value on half a crown now as he did when he was worth 
' only one hundred. ' — And then he runs on with more great 
Whig worthies of that age. 

« That great captain, the Duke of Marlborough, when he was 
in the last stage of life, and very infirm, would walk from the public 
rooms in Bath to his lodgings, in a cold dark night, to save sixpence 
In chair hire. If the Duke, who left at his death more than a mil- 
lion and a half sterling, could have foreseen that all his wealth and 
honours were to be inherited by a grandson of my lord Trevors, who 
had been one of his enemies, would he have been so careful to save 
sixpence for the sake of his heir ? Not for the sake of his heir ; but 
he would always have saved a sixpence. Sir James Lowther, af- 
ter changing a piece of silver in George's coffee-house, and paying 
twopence for his dish of coffee, was helped into his chariot (for he 
was then very lame and infirm), and went home : Some little time 
after, he returned to the same coffee-house on purpose to acquaint 
the woman who kept it that she had given him a bad halfpenny, 
and demanded another in exchange for it. Sir James had about 
40,000/. per annum, and was at a loss whom to appoint his heir. ' — 
pp. 101-103. 

He gives a long dissertation on men mistaking their talents ; 
and his first example is Addison, with whom he is somewhat 

2 



1819. Dr King's Memoirs. 7.0 

wroth, upon the old score of the tye-wig. * If lie had entered 
' into holy orders, (and he had made divinity his chief study), 

* he might have placed himself as high as he pleased on the 

* bench of Bishops. ' Instead of which, he tried to be Secre- 
tary of Stale; and, failing, was obliged to retire upon a Teller- 
ship. After an instance of a similar mistake (we presume a- 
mong the Tories, for it was Lord Marr's brother) in a Lord of 
Session, who would go into the House of Commons to discourse 
of mzdtiptepdindfrig, he indulges in the following sally, which has 
more than the learned author's usual proportion of drollery* 
The noble person principally mentioned, is of course the Duke 
of Newcastle. 

' It is indeed the peculiar happiness of this country, that all who 
have any share in the administration of public affairs, are equally fir. 
for all employment. His Grace of N. was first Chamberlain, then 
Secretary of State, and is now First Commissioner of the Treasury 
and Chancellor of Cambridge ; and all these high employments he 
hath executed with equal capacity and judgment, without being in- 
debted to age or experience for the least improvement; and if he 
had been pleased to accept the Archbishopric of Canterbury, when 
it was lately vacant, he would have proved himself as great an orator 
in the pulpit as he is in the senate, and as able a divine as he is a 
politician. As often a« I hear this nobleman named, he puts me in 
mind of a certain Irish baronet, a man of some interest in his coun- 
try, who, when the Duke of Ormonde was appointed Lord Lieute- 
nant of Inland in the beginning of Queen Anne's reign, desired his 
Grace to give him a bishopric, or a regiment of horse, or to maLe 
him Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench.' pp. 115-117. — So 
very clear-sighted were the Tories, when they enjoyed the 
leisure of retirement, and could calmly, and from the conve- 
nient shade, look upon the qualifications of men for the offices 
which Court favour bestowed, and parliamentary management 
retained ! Are there no personages in the present dav, who, 
without even the slender pretensions to high office which un- 
questionably belonged to the head of the Pelhams, — the highest 
rank, and most profuse expenditure of a princely fortune, — have 
nevertheless contrived to lead long lives of place, patronage, 
honours and emoluments — nay, to pass through every one of 
the most exalted, if not the most powerful stations under each 
successive administration, with one exception, during the Last 
forty years? We believe there are few readers whose memory 
cannot at once answer this question. 

The extraordinary tenderness towards the national Establish- 
ment manifested by the Tories of the present day, is matter of 
hourly observation. So far, indeed, is this carried, that they 
will suffer none 'nut themselves to take any care of its interests. 
They exiiibit signs of disquiet, and even uneasiness, if any one 



SO Dr King's Memoirs. July 

else presumes to defend it ; and if they perceive that any one 
entertains that sincere good will to it, which is shown by endea- 
vours to correct its abuses, or to free it from the dangerous 
contamination of unworthy members, forthwith they sound the 
alarm — they cry out that the Church is attacked — is in jeo- 
pardy ; — their maxim in reality being, that there can be nothing 
like an abuse connected with it, and that its members never 
can do wrong. We shall be told, that this doctrine never has 
been held ; and we believe that it has never been avowed in 
terms; but it is the deeply-rooted feeling which actuates those of 
whom we are speaking : And they would hate much less (though 
they might more openly express their detestation) the man who 
should at once attack the fundamentals of the orthodox faith, 
or even raise a question about the right to tithe, than him who 
should unadvisedly call for the correction of some practical ab-^ 
use, the removal of an admitted corruption, or the reformation of 
some particular in the private life or official conduct of any por- 
tion of its dignitaries. Nothing, it seems, must ever be admit- 
ted to be wrong, either in the theory or in the practice of any 
part of the established order of things. All must be taken for 
perfect in the system ; and they who act under it, must be deem- 
ed partakers of its nature and attributes. Such at least are the 
notions of Tories, when in the enjoyment of place and power. 
But let the sourness of disappointment once seize them, and they 
complain as openly as any Whig who has spent his whole life 
in opposition : They throw all the wonted decorum of their 
opinions aside; and find every thing wrong. The following 
passage respecting the English Bishops, strongly illustrates 
tliesercmaiks. Wo betide the hapless Presbyterian, or Low 
Churchman, who should have given vent to such murmurs a- 
gainst the right reverend pillars of the Hierarchy. We almost 
shut the book, and fear to transcribe ; we tremble even at being 
the channel through which such things are to be disseminated ; 
but we entreat the reader to recollect, that the words are spo- 
ken by an Oxford Dignitary, the Head of a House, a man of 
principles highly Monarchical, and devoted to the highest 
Church party. 

' Butler, who was predecessor to the present Bishop of Durham, 
being applied to on some occasion for a charitable subscription, ask- 
ed his steward what money he had in the house. The steward in- 
formed him, ' there was five hundred pounds.' Five hundred 
pounds ! ' said the Bishop : « what a shame for a Bishop to have such 
a sum in his possession ! ' and ordered it all to be immediately given 
to the poor. That spirit of charity and benevolence which possessed 
this excellent man hath not appeared in any other part of the hier- 
archy since the beginning of the present century. His successor, Dr 
Trevor, possessed of a large estate, besides the revenue of his rich 



1819. Br King's Memoirs, S I 

bishopric, has a different turn of mind, but in common with many <,; 
his own order. To speak freely, I know nothing that has brought so 
great a reproach on the Church of England as the avarice and ambi- 
tion of our bishops. Chandler, Bishop of Durham, Willis, Bi- 
shop of Winchester, Potter, Archbishop of Canterbury, Gibson 
and Sherlock, Bishops of London, all died shamefully rich, some 
pf" them worth more than 100,000/. I must add to these my old an- 
tagonist Gilbert, predecessor to Drummond, the present Arch- 
bishop of York. Some of these prelates were esteemed great divines 
(and I know they were learned men), but they could not be called 
good Christians. The great wealth which they heaped up, the fruits 
of their bishoprics, and which they left to enrich their families, was 
not their own ; it was due to God, to the Church, to their poor bre- 
thren. The history of the good Samaritan, which was so particularly 
explained by Christ himself to his disciples, ought to be a monitory 
to all their successors. I knew Burnett, Bishop of Salisbury: be 
•was a furious party-man, and easily imposed on by any lying spirit of 
his own faction ; but he was a better pastor than any man who is now 
seated on the bishops' bench. Although he left a large family when 
he died, three sons and two daughters (if I rightly remember), yet he 
left them nothing more than their mother's fortune. He always de- 
clared, that he should think himself guilty of the greatest crime, if he 
were to raise fortunes for his children out of the revenue of his bishop- 
ric. It was no small misfortune to the cause of Christianity in this 
kingdom, that when we reformed from popery, our clergy were per- 
mitted to many; from that period their only care (which was natural, 
and must have been foreseen) was to provide for their wives and 
children : This the dignitaries, who had ample revenues, could easily 
effect, with the loss, however, of that respect and veneration which 
they formerly received on account of their hospitality * and nume- 
rous charities : But the greatest part of the inferior clergy were in- 
capable of making a provision for sons and daughters, and soon left 
families of beggars in every part of the kingdom. I do not inquire 
whether chastity ought to be a requisite in those who are ordained to 
serve at the altar (it certainly adds a grace and dignity to their func- 
tion) ; but I cannot help observing that our Government makes no dif- 
ference between a bishop's wife and his concubine : The wife has no 
place or precedence, she does not share in her husband's honours ; 
although the creation of a simple knight, whose honours, like the 
bishop's, are for life only, gives a rank and title to his wife. More- 
over, as an academician, and friend to the republic of letters, I have 

* ' In the epistle which is read at the consecration of our bishops, 
it is required of them, amongst other injunctions, that they sit<,uld be 
given to hospitality, not given to filthy lucre, not covetous. They like- 
wise solemnly promise to assist the indigent, and all strangers who are 
destitute of help. ' 

VOL. XXXII. NO. 63. F 



82 Dr King's Memoirs. July 

often wished that the canons which forbid priests to marry were still 
in force. To the celibacy of the bishops we owe almost all those 
noble foundations which are established in both our Universities ; but 
since the Reformation, we can boast of few of the episcopal order as 
benefactors to those seats of learning. The munificent donations of 
Laud and Sheldon, in the last century, will, indeed, ever be re- 
membered ; but let it likewise be remembered, that these two pre- 
lates were unmarried. Since the commencement of the present cen- 
tury, I do not recollect one of our Right Reverends who ought to be 
recorded as an eminent patron of learning, or learned men ; but this 
will not appear very wonderful, if we consider by what spirit they 
were dignified — hand equidem Spiritu Sancto. And yet in the conse- 
cration of these conge delire bishops, they are said to be called to this 
work by the Holy Ghost ; and in their answer to the archbishop, 
they seem to affirm it of themselves. ' pp. 183-188. 

We have given one anecdote of Bishop Atterbury ; and must 
add the following repartee of his in the House of Lords, as ex- 
ceedingly perfect in its kind. He happened to say, upon a cer- 
tain bill then in discussion, that ' " he had prophesied last winter 
this bill would be attempted in the present session ; and he was 
sorry tojind that he had proved a true prophet. " My Lord Co- 
Ningsby, who spoke after the Bishop, and always spoke in a 
passion, desired the House to remark, " that one of the Rigid 
Reverend had set himself forth as a prophet ,• but for his part, he 
did not know what prophet to liken him to, unless to that furious pro- 
phet BALAAM, who was reproved by his own ass. " The Bishop, 
in a reply, with great wit and calmness, exposed this rride at- 
tack, concluding thus — " since the noble Lord hath discovered 
in our manners such a similitude, I am well content to be compar- 
ed to the prophet Balaam : but, my Lords, I am at a loss how to 
make otit the other part of the parallel : I am sure that I have been 
reproved by nobody but his Lordship. " ' pp. 129, 130. 

Dr King gives some just observations upon the neglect of the 
study of our own language, in those seminaries of education 
where all other tongues are so elaborately taught. To this de- 
fect he ascribes the undoubted fact, that Englishmen, however 
learned, express themselves in their mother tongue with much 
less ease, elegance, and correctness, than foreigners. 

« I have been acquainted, ' he says, * with * three persons only 
who spoke English with that elegance and propriety, that if all they 
said had been immediately committed to writing, any judge of the 
English language would have pronounced it an excellent and very 

* ' Atterbury, the exiled Bishop of Rochester. 

{ Dr Gower, Provost of Worcester College. 

4 Johnson, the author of the English Dictionary, — of the Ram* 
bier, &e. ' 



1819. JD> Kings Memoirs. 83 

beautiful style. And yet among the French and Iinlinnx, we meet 
with few learned men who are not able to express themselves with, 
ease and elegance in their own language : and it* the same freedom 
of speech were allowed in the Parliament of Paris, or senate of Rome, 
which may be used in an English House of Commons, their orators- 
would be more numerous and eminent than we can boast of. Ob- 
serving this defect so universal in the English nation, I have always 
advised the young gentlemen who were under my care in the Uni- 
versity, or with whom I had any connexion or acquaintance, (espe- 
cially those who had parts, and discovered an inclination to improve 
themselves), to get by heart a page in one of our English classics 
every morning, in order to speak their own tongue with facility, and 
acquire a good style in writing. ' pp. 174—176. 

We suspect that the Doctor overlooks another circumstance^ 
which has a groat share in making foreigners, particularly the 
French and Italians, more eloquent in common conversation than 
our countrymen ; we mean the freedom from that shyness which 
distinguishes us, that mixture of timidity and pride about trifling 
matters, which the French call mauvaise honte. We do not put 
forth our force in conversation ; we are ashamed of turning sen- 
tences; we dislike attracting the attention of others to our man- 
ner of speech, by seeming to make it the object of our own. An 
Italian is hurried on by his passions, the spring of all eloquence; 
and he forgets all such personal feelings. A Frenchman has none 
to encumber him; he always speaks his best, as if every auditor 
were a critic; and he appeals for our admiration at the close of 
a sentence, with a look that amply testifies his having secured 
his own. In this way it is, that one nation is eloquent, and the 

other rhetorical. —But, to continue our good Doctor's remarks 

on oratory. He differs from Cicero in the estimate which he 
forms of the accomplishments necessary to an orator. The 
Roman held it essential that he should be skilled in all arts and 
sciences. 

' For a century and an half, we have had only two High Chan- 
cellors who could be called learned men, though many of them have 
been reputed excellent orators : and in our days, the man who en- 
Joyed this great office for twenty years, and during that time dictat- 
ed to the House of Peers, did not learn Latin, as I am well assured, 
until after he was made Lord Chancellor. Sir Robert Walpole, 
who by his oratory raised himself from a small estate to the height 
of power, and disposed of all employments in the British dominions 
for many years, had not any great stock of learning. He was indeed 
not unskilled in the classics ; some knowledge of those authors he 
could not but retain, as he had been formerly a fellow of a College 
in Cambridge. I knew Sir William Wyndham, who was allowed tfV 

F2 



M Dr King's Memoirs, July 

be the best and most graceful speaker in the Hduse of Commons for 
many years before he died, but he was not eminent in any branch of 
literature. Mr Pitt, who has acquired such a great reputation for 
his eloquence, and a greater still for his administration, and the suc- 
cess which has attended it, has not much learning to boast of, unless 
it be some little acquaintance with the Lalin classics. I could name 
several others, in both Houses of Parliament, who are busy speakers, 
and harangue on all occasions, who would be greatly puzzled in 
reading one of Tully's orations. The truth is, that not only all phi- 
losophical studies, and the abstruser sciences, are of little use to our 
parliament orators ; but, even without a tincture of what we call po- 
lite literature, they are many of them able to talk themselves into 
esteem and good employments. Every age produces men (* very 
few indeed) who seem to be orators born, who, not only without the 
aid of learning, but without use and exercise, which are so necessary 
to the formation of an orator, are endowed with a talent of speaking 
and replying readily and fluently. ' pp. 178-181. 

Towards the close of his life, it appears that our author fell 
into bad repute with his own party. The principal cause of 
this seems to have been his going to Court in 1761, with the 
Chancellor anil other dignitaries of the University, when they 
went up with an address upon the King's marriage. The fury 
of the Jacobite faction instantly burst forth against him as an 
apostate from the cause ; and he, in his turn, begins very bit- 
terly to inveigh against its more zealous and steady adherents. 
He remarks, among other things, the low ebb to which the 
Jacobite interest was reduced, and ascribes this, not more to the 
successful administration of the Whigs, than to the weak and 
violent conduct held by the chiefs of the exiled family's party. 
He thinks, indeed, that he is himself possessed of information 
which may at once account for the defection among its votaries, 
and render that desertion more general. He conceives that 
' he shall render an acceptable service to many of his country - 

* men, and satisfy the inquiries of posterity, by publishing an 
' anecdote which he is novo under no obligation to conceal, and 
f which, as the affairs of Britain are at present circumstanced, 

* it would, in his opinion, be criminal to suppress.' After ob- 
serving, by the way, how frequently the ' affairs of Britain * 
are found to justify, and indeed to demand, certain sacrifices of 
party connexion — how repeatedly we see them requiring once 



* ' Two or three perhaps in a century. Such men may properly 
be called geniuses. Indeed our Metimdisls and our enthusiasts of all 
denominations pretend to the gift of speaking ; and it must be ac- 
knowledged they speak with great fluency and volubility i but it is- 
always a flow of absurdities, blasphemy, and nonsense..' 



1819. Dr King's Memoirs. 85 

zealous partisans to oppose, not to say betray, their former 
friends — how apt those same ' affairs of Britain ' arc to com- 
pel men's acceptance of high and lucrative situations — we may 
go on with the anecdote. It seems that, in September 1750, 
the Doctor received a message from Lady Primrose, desiring to 
see him, and, upon his obeying tlie summons, was suddenly in- 
troduced to the Pretender, who had come over at the instiga- 
tion of his intemperate and thoughtless friends, to make an at- 
tempt, for which, even if the occasion had been at all favourable, 
no sort of preparation had been undertaken. He remained on- 
ly five days in London, during which time our worthy author 
had some long conversations with him. He also corresponded 
with him constantly for some years, not by letter, but through 
honourable and distinguished gentlemen, who passed backwards 
and forwards for the purpose of maintaining this difficult and 
hazardous intercourse between the exiled Court and their friends 
in this country. Having, in the course of this connexion, ' in- 

* formed himself of all particulars relating to him, and of his 
' whole conduct both in publick and private life, ' he deems 
himself as well qualified as any man in England to draw a just 
character of the Pretender, and to undeceive * many worthy 

* gentlemen attached to his name. ' We shall transcribe this 
sketch, which there is no reason to believe at all an unfair one, 
of the very contemptible person in question. 

' As to his person, he is tall and well-made, but stoops a little, 
owing perhaps to the great fatigue which he underwent in his north- 
ern expedition. He has an handsome face and good eyes ; (1 think 
his busts, which about this time were commonly sold in London, are 
more like him than any of his pictures which I have yet seen) ; but 
in a polite company he xwuld not pass for a genteel man. He hath 
a quick apprehension, and speaks French, Italian, and English, the 
last with a little of a foreign accent. As to the rest, very little care 
seems to have been taken of his education. He had not made the 
belles lettres or any of the finer arts his study, which surprised me 
much, considering his preceptors, and the noble opportunities he must 
have always had in that nursery * of all the elegant and liberal arts 
and sciences. But I was still more astonished, when I found him un- 
acquainted with the history and constitution of England, in which he 
ought to have been very early instructed. I never heard him express 

* ' Rome. His governor was a protestant, and I am apt to believe 
purposedly neglected his education, of which it is surmised he made 
a merit to the English ministry ; for he was always supposed to be 
their pensioner. The Chevalier Ramsay, the author of Cyrus, was 
Prince Charles's preceptor for about a year ; but a court faction rc- 
I toyed him. ' 



$<> 2)r King's Memoirs. July 

any noble or benevolent sentiments, the certain indications of a great 
soul and a good heart ; or discover any sorrow or compassion for the 
misfortunes of so many worthy men who had suffered in his cause. + 
But the worst part of his character is his love of money, a vice which 
| do not rerpember to have been imputed by our historians to any of 
his ancestors, and is the certain index of a base and little mind. I 
know it may be urged in his vindication, that a prince in exile ought 
to be an economist. And so he ought ; but nevertheless his purse 
should be always open, as long as there is any thing in it, to relieve 
the necessities of his friends and adherents. King Charles the Se- 
cond, during his banishment, would have shared the last pistole in his 
pocket with his little family. But I have known this gentleman with 
two thousand louis-d'ors in his strong box pretend he was in great 
distress, and borrow money from a lady in Paris, who was not in af- 
fluent circumstances. His most faithful servants, who had closely at- 
tended him in all his difficulties, were ill rewarded. Two French- 
men, who had left every thing to follow his fortune, who had been 
sent as couriers through half Europe, and executed their commissions 
with great punctuality and exactness, were suddenly discharged, 
-without any faults imputed to them, or any recompense for their past 
service. To this spirit of avarice may be added his insolent manner 
of treating his immediate dependants, vety unbecoming a great prince, 
and a sure prognostic of what might be expected from him if ever he. 
acquired sovereign power. Sir J. Harrington, ^ and § Col. Gor- 
ing, who suffered themselves to be imprisoned with him, rather than 
desert him, when the rest of his family and attendants fled, were af- 
terwards obliged to quit his service on account of his illiberal beha- 
viour. But there is one part of his character, which I must par- 
ticularly insist on, since it occasioned the defection of the most 
powerful of his friends and adherents in England, and by some 



f ' As to his religion, he is certainly free from all bigotry and su- 
perstition, and would readily conform to the religion of the country. 
With the catholics he is a catholic ; with the protestants he is a pro- 
testant ; and, to convince the latter of his sincerity, he often carried 
an English Common Prayer-book in his pocket : and sent to Gordon 
(whom I have mentioned before), a nonjuring clergyman, to christen 
the first child he had by Mrs W. ' 

J ' Sir J. Harrington remained in banishment till the accession of 
the present King George III. No man is better acquainted with the 
private history and character of Prince Charles ; and, if ever he reads 
what I have here written. I am confident that he will readily vouch 
the truth of my narrative. ' 

§ ' Goring, upon quitting his service, was recommended by my 
Lord Marshal to the King of Prussia, who immediately gave him 
a command in his army, equal to his pretensions. Goring died soon 
after, and his loss was greatly lamented by his Prussian Majesty, 
;yho honoured him with a character in a letter to my Lord Marshal. ' 



J 815. Dr King's Memoirs. S7 

concurring accidents totally blasted all his hopes and pretensions. 
When he was in Scotland, he had a mistress, whose name is Walk- 
enshaw, and whose sister was at that time, and is still, housekeeper 
at Leicester House. Some years after he was released from his pri- 
son, and conducted out of France, he sent for this girl, who soon 
acquired such a dominion over him, that she was acquainted with all 
his schemes, and trusted with his most secret correspondence. As 
soon as this was known in England, all those persons of distinction, 
who were attached to him, were greatly alarmed ; they imagined that 
this wench had been placed in his family by the English ministers ; 
and, considering her sister's situation, they seemed to have some 
ground for their suspicion; wherefore they despatched a gentleman 
to Paris, where the Prince then was, who had instructions to insist 
that Mrs Walkenshaw should be removed to a convent for a certain 
term ; but her gallant absolutely refused to comply with this demand : 
And although Mr M'Namara, the gentleman who was sent to him, 
who has a natural eloquence, and an excellent understanding, urged 
the most cogent reasons, and used all the arts of persuasion to in- 
duce him to part with his mistress, and even proceeded so far as to 
assure him, according to his instructions, that an immediate inter- 
ruption of all correspondence with his most powerful friends in Eng- 
land, and in short that the ruin of his interest, which was now daily 
increasing, would be the infallible consequence of his refusal ; yet 
he continued inflexible, and all M'Namara's intreaties and remon- 
strances were ineffectual. M'Namara staid in Paris some days be- 
yond the time prescribed him, endeavouring to reason the Prince 
into a better temper ; but rinding him obstinately persevere in his first 
answer, he took his leave with concern and indignation, saying, as 
he passed out, " What has your family done, Sir, thus to draw down 
the vengeance of Heaven on every branch of it through so many 
ages ? " It is worthy of remark, that in all the conferences which 
M'Namara had with the Prince on this occasion, the latter declared, 
that it was not a violent passion, or indeed any particular regard, * 
which attached him to Mrs Walkenshaw, and that he could see her 
removed from him without any concern ; but he would not receive 
directions, in respect to his private conduct, from any man alive. — - 
When M'Namara returned to London, and reported the Prince's an- 
swer to the gentlemen who had employed him, they were astonished 
end confounded. However, they soon resolved on the measures 

* ' I believe he spoke truth when he declared he had no esteem for 
his northern mistress, although she has been his companion for so 
many years. She had no elegance of manners : and as they had 
both contracted an odious habit of drinking, so they exposed them- 
selves, very frequently, not only to their own family, but to all their 
neighbours. They often quarrelled, and sometimes fought : They 
were some of these drunken scenes which, probably, occasioned ike 
report of his madness. ' 



£8 Dr King's Memoirs. July 

which they were to pursue for the future, and determined no longer 
to serve a man who could not be persuaded to serve himself, and 
chose rather to endanger the lives of his best and most faithful friends, 
than part with an harlot, whom, as he often declared, he neither 
loved nor esteemed. If ever that old adage, Quos Jupiter vult perdere, 
&c. could be properiy applied to any person, whom could it so well 
fit as the gentleman of whom I have been speaking ? for it is difficult 
by any other means to account for such a sudden infatuation, f He 
was, indeed, soon afterwards made sensible of his misconduct, when 
it was too late to repair it : for from this era may truly be dated the 
friiin of his cause ; which, for the future, can only subsist in the Non- 
juring congregations, which are generally formed of the meanest 
people, from whom no danger to the present government need ever 
be apprehended. ' pp.199 — 211. 

With this passage we close our account of the Doctor's vo- 
lume ; aware that our review has partaken much of the desultory 
and gossipping nature of the work itself : — which is, on the whole, 
more trifling than might have been expected. It is but fair, how- 
ever, towards the author's memory to add, that his defection from 
the Jacobite party was wholly disinterested — that it consisted ra- 
ther in despairing of success, in opening his eyes to the real siate 
of their affairs, and in discouraging, by his neutrality, any mad 
projects of a criminal description, than in supporting their ad- 
versaries with activity. The more sober view which he took, 
was justified by the real aspect of matters, and was extremely 
natural in a man turned of seventy-four ; but the free remarks 
in which he indulges upon the cause, and its adherents, and e- 
specially its chief, can only be accounted for by reflecting on 
the violent abuse to which a slight and occasional conformity 
had exposed him ; — abuse, which we know often converts par- 
tial into thorough-paced renegadoes, and always occasions, ei- 
ther directly or from being dreaded, the proverbial bitterness of 
apostasy. 



■f- ' He was soon made acquainted with the defection which imme- 
diately followed upon the report of his answer. He endeavoured to 
excuse himself by blaming the gentleman who had been sent to him 5 
He pretended the message had not been properly delivered ; that he 
had been treated rudely and insolently, &c. But this was not the 
case. Mr M'Namara addressed him in the most respectful manner; 
and though he spoke firmly, as he knew the consequence of the 
Prince's refusal, yet he could not have treated him with more defer- 
ence if he had been on the throne. The Prince's accusation of 
M'Namara was very unjust, as well aS ungrateful ; for M'Namara 
had been often with him, and had served him with great zeal and 
fidelity on many important occasions, both at home and abroad, '