XXVII. LORD BOLINGBROKE. THE reputation of Bolingbroke is now almost wholly a matter of tradition. The courted and caressed minion of fortune, the "all-accomplished St. John," the petted darling of fashion, the favorite son of genius, is, at the present day, a name and little else. The personal qualities of a brilliant manner and polished address, which, together with copiousness of language, both in writing and speaking, a certain elegance of air, and a superficial stock of showy erudition, conspired to render the name of Bolingbroke a talisman of magic power in his own day, have all now given place to an oblivion, rightly merited, by an absence of the chief virtues of the heart, and of all the really admirable qualities of the head-the only sure antidotes to mortality. We find in the history of Bolingbroke, a lesson to those who would elevate the character of a friend into that of a demigod; who judge too much from personal feeling, and make little allowance for the just, because utterly impartial, verdict of posterity. If we gather our opinion of the genius of Bolingbroke from the reports of private friendship, we would place him on the pinnacle of fame; if we judge from his personal history, and from his own writings, we come to a quite op posite conclusion. The writers of his day seemed to have conspired to raise him to the heights of renown; but he had not the internal force to make good their endeavors. Resting on his own merits, he soon sank to his proper level of inferiority and general obscurity. The praises bestowed on Bolingbroke fall little short of adulation. Pope's strain is always that of extravagant 'eulogium. Swift was not far behind in this respect. Later writers have kept up the ball. Bulwer, and the younger D'Israeli, in their early novels, painted him the hero of the boudoir and the saloon of fashion. The latest professed eulogy we have read of Bolingbroke, is from the pen of Lord Mahon, in his history-who coincides with the vulgar idea of a past school of criticism, in the opinion that Bolingbroke was, perhaps, the finest of English writers. Writing chiefly either on political, and hence purely ephemeral topics, or on moral and religious, and hence permanent themes, Bolingbroke is to be judged as a pamphleteer, and as a philosopher. In the first character, he was eminently successful; his tenets were those of a strong partizan, and defended with animation and considerable force of declamation. Sometimes he rose into eloquence; but generally, his declamation was as cold and artificial as his reasoning was specious and shallow. Pitt, to be sure, used to say, the Letter to Sir William Wyndam was the most masterly composition in the English Language, but his wretched literary taste is well known. It suited his own style of political eloquence, being wordy, full and musical. The moral essays of Bolingbroke are equally worthless for the thought and the style. Some of his religious speculations were close on the verge of atheism; he adopted the French cant of freedom from prejudice, and denied the 3 genuineness of certain parts of the Bible. His platonic aspirations have the appearance of utter insincerity; and his mouthing rants about patriotism and public good, can deceive only the most credulous of his readers. In a word, we look on Bolingbroke as a literary charlatan; and concur entirely with Blair-who, for once, forgot his formality and indifference, when he told his pupils, that for profit, no English writer could be read with so little advantage as Bolingbroke. His style, however meretricious, has the merit of copiousness and harmony. In the best passages, we are sometimes reminded of Cowley and Sir William Temple, among his predecessors; and in the present day, we see a revival of the same power of amplification in a nobler spirit, in the works of Channing and Macaulay. As an orator, Bolingbroke was rated very high by his contemporaries. His successors in public life, (Pitt and Brougham,) have estimated him the very first of English orators. Lord Chesterfield thought him superior to the ancients. But, in his printed works, he is infinitely beneath Burke-who, singularly enough, commenced his career by an imitation of Bolingbroke-which proved superior to the original. We can imagine him, however, a very popular speaker. He had all the arts of oratory, and a fine person. He was quick, brilliant, energetic, fiery; his manners soft, elegant, refined; his scholarship, dazzling and deceptive. He was also, when necessary, untiring in business; and, perhaps, the best negotiator and diplomat among the English statesmen of his time. The personal character of this "brilliant knave" was, in early life, grossly sensual;-he was a sort of Marquis of Waterford only rivalling him in reckless licentiousness. He kept the most expensive mistress in the kingdom, and boasted of being able to drink more than any other man could bear. He once ran a race naked through Hyde Park. His lordship's ambition, when a collegian, and until the age of near thirty, was wholly of the puerile sort that distinguishes rich young men of fashion of the present day. As he advanced toward maturity, he became the statesman and political leader. After the loss of power and influence, he turned philosopher. It may look like want of charity, but we confess we suspect it to be too true, that philosophy was the last resort of Bolingbroke, as patriotism has been said to be "the last resort of a scoundrel." And it is astonishing how men are allowed to conduct the affairs of the nation, whose private business is entirely neglected, and whose personal character is highly valued, at the very smallest premium. Religion, Bolingbroke repelled with disdain, but rested firm in the consolations of philosophy. He died at an advanced age, and holding the same doctrines to the very last. There must have been in the company and private character of this celebrated man, more than appears in his writings and public conduct, else how were the best men of his time so duped by his fascinating qualities. The stern sense of Swift, the acute satire of Pope, the comic subtlety of Gay, had pierced the hollow surface of pretence, and lashed the age; yet they united in one chorus of applause to the genius, the patriotism, the purity of Bolingbroke. It is a curious problem. We cannot close this slight notice without paying a tribute of just compliment to the enterprising publishers. The work is printed with great neatness; the portrait admirably engraved. It is a cause of that the subject regret with us, matter, at this time, is not more worthy of the execution. How many far superior works lie mouldering in the rubbish of ancient libraries. St. John may be popular at the south. He inculcates a lax morality; and the style may suit the Virginia idea of eloquence-frothy and high sounding. But here, in these middle states, and at the east, we know better what true eloquence and sound philosophy mean, and have living models of both. The editor deserves some notice, but wholly by way of censure. In a pert, pragmatical preface, he speaks slightingly of the elegant compilation of Goldsmith, who has sifted the facts cleanly, and given the gist of the matter. It is a common criticism to speak of the indolence of Goldsmith, who, however, left a goodly number of volumes behind him, and wrote as no other man of his day could write. A similar vulgar error prevails with regard to Irving, (our Goldsmith,) who has written his shelf full of choice classics. With all his pretension, the editor has only contrived to make an unsightly piece of patchwork from Goldsmith, and some review articles. He employs the text of Goldsmith without remark, even after his scornful criticism; which reminds us of a similar spirit in the Wild Tartar, mentioned by Hudibras, who— When he spies A man that's handsome, valiant, wise, His wit, his beauty, and his spirit: As if just so much he enjoy'd, |