he was attacked by a violent stitch in the side, which gave way to the treatment applied. He was visited by Mr Clerk on Saturday, and observed to him, "this day four years was a very melancholy day to me:" Mr Clerk did not at first understand him, until he added, "it was the most melancholy I ever passed in my life: it was the day I lost my dear wife." Mr Clerk then thought his grace worse than he had yet been. The duke desired him to write to Sir R. Southwell to come over. The duke was amused by his little grandson, whom he had constantly with him, though not more than two years old at the time. He frequently asked the hour, and desired his chaplain, Mr Hartstrong, (afterward bishop of Derry,) to prepare to administer the sacrament to him by ten next morning, naming those whom he wished to receive it with him. In the afternoon he got out of bed to join as usual in the family prayers, and read the responses with his usual clearness, but it was observed by those around him that he was evidently striving with pain. He continued sitting up till three o'clock, which was the hour of afternoon prayers, in which he joined as usual. He conversed a good deal, but showed starts of pain. He desired Mr Clerk to secure some papers which lay in the window, for Sir R. Southwell, who, he said, could not arrive in time. He was desirous to return to bed, but Mr Clerk remarked to him that he was going faster than he thought, and that it would be better not to wait till morning for the sacrament; the duke assented, and it was accordingly administered without delay, with the young earl of Ossory, who arrived a few days before, and all the servants of his household.

His grace then addressed his servants, and told them, that in recommending them all to the friendship and protection of the earl of Ossory, he had done all in his power to requite their faithful services, as he had been all his life in debt, and now died so. He then dismissed them, and feeling greatly exhausted, desired to be laid on his bed. This was done by his gentleman of the chamber and another: they were laying him on his back, and he requested them to turn him on his side; while this was doing, his hand was observed to fall deadly, and on examining they found that he had breathed his last in the interval.

His mind had been clear to the very last; he had frequently expressed a wish that he "might not outlive his intellectuals." He was by his own desire buried in Westminster Abbey, next to his duchess and his two sons, on August 4th, 1688; the funeral service being read by Dr Spratt, bishop of Rochester: he would have completed his 78th year in a few days.

The duke was something above the middle size, of a fair complexion, and a countenance remarkable for its grave and dignified expression, combined with an air of frankness and modesty. He dressed in the fashion of the court, but with a freedom from finery or affectation. His living was hospitable, but in his own person plain and abstemious. His life was free from vice, and his religious observance exemplary from youth to extreme old age: a fact more honourably characteristic than may be fully allowed for by every reader, until his recollection is called to the truth of common experience as well as of divine declaration, how little consistent with each other are the ways of piety and of the world,

in which latter his grace was by the necessities of his position, and of the times in which he lived a prominent actor. Neither the pomps and vanities, nor the anxious and engrossing cares, nor the temptations of acquisition and station, nor the applause and censure of multitudes, nor even the most long-sighted wisdom of camps, cabinets, and senates, are favourable to the attainment of that spiritual condition which is needful to the interests of that future state at present faintly apprehended, and therefore little the object of earnest concern, save to the few to whom they have been realized by faith, and the teaching of a better spirit than the statesman's heart ordinarily knows. The political partisan and the leader of state-parties may often indeed manifest a deep zeal for the maintenance of a church; but it will, on closer inspection, be ever soon observed, that such zeal has not necessarily any connexion with religion. A church may be regarded simply as a corporate institution, available for the various uses of human policy and constitutional arrangement; and thus viewed, may be the object of a competition, and an excitement of passions as violent and as inconsistent with christian spirit, as if it were a borough or a commercial charter. To exemplify this in the affairs of the present time would be most especially easy, though perhaps too invidious for a popular work. We shall not, however, be called partial, if we tell the reader, whatever may be his persuasion, to cast but a glance on which side soever he pleases, on the two prominent ecclesiastical parties of the hour, to be convinced of the entirely secular nature of the actuating principles on either side. A fact easily borne out in detail, whether we view the demonstrations of the parties, or the character of the individuals who are the leading actors in the strife. This is not the place to follow out this interesting position with the analytical detail by which it could easily be placed in a startling clearness of evidence: for our purpose it is enough that the duke of Ormonde was a most illustrious exception. And we must add, that the fact affords an easy solution of much of his high and noble career, which the moral ignorance of some of our esteemed contemporaries have laboured in vain, to reconcile with their own ideas of human motives, by the most ingenious and far-fetched imputations of design, unwarranted by any known action of his life, and broadly inconsistent with all. The duke was remarkable for his alert and indefatigable attention to business, his early hours, and strict economy of time. His affection to the duchess and all his children was a trait of his disposition, not less discernible throughout his life.

The duke's letters and state papers are to a great extent preserved, and form a large volume: they manifest in abundance all the higher qualities of the statesman-the man, and the christian. Of all these

qualities we have already offered occasional evidence in the extracts we have selected from the duke's correspondence and other papers; we shall here add two more, which, on reflection, we think should not be omitted, though from the progress of the work, we have inadvertently allowed the occasion to pass. The following is, we think, a favourable specimen of the style and language of his grace's period, as also worthy of notice for its more substantial merits:

In the beginning of the reign of Charles II., the enemies of Ireland and of the duke endeavoured to obtain the nomination of English

men to the vacant bishoprics in this country. The duke's remonstrance contains this just and eloquent passage:-"It is fit that it be remembered that near the city of Dublin there is a university of the foundation of queen Elizabeth, principally intended for the education and advantage of the natives of this kingdom, which hath produced men very eminent for learning and piety, and those of this nation: and such there are now in this church; so, that while there are so, the passing them by is not only in some measure a violation of the original intent and institutions, but a great discouragement to the natives, from making themselves capable and fit for preferments in the church: whereunto, (if they have equal parts,) they are better able to do service than strangers; their knowledge of the country and their relations in it giving them the advantage. The promotion too of fitting persons already dignified or beneficed, will make more room for, and consequently encourage young men, students in this university; which room will be lost, and the inferior clergy much disheartened, if upon the vacancy of bishoprics persons unknown to the kingdom and university shall be sent to fill them, and to be less useful there to church and kingdom than those who are better acquainted with both." To this we shall add another of those peculiar compositions in which the fervid and genuine piety of the duke appears to have imparted to his pen, an eloquence of a higher kind than often appears in the best writers of his age.

His prayer and thanksgiving, being recovered a while before from a most dangerous pleurisy, which he had in London.

March 19, 1682.

"O most mighty and most merciful God, by thee we live, move, and have our being; thou art the fountain of life, and to thee it belongs to set the bounds of it, and to appoint the time of our death: our business in this world is to adore, to praise, and to serve thee, according to the notions thou hast imprinted in us; and those revelations of thyself and of thy will, that thou hast vouchsafed to the sons of men in their several generations, by thy holy word. The blessings of this life are of thy bounty, given to engage us to gratitude and to obedience, and the afflictions we sometimes suffer and labour under come also from thy hand, with purposes of mercy to recall, and reduce us from the sinfulness and error of our ways, into which plenty and prosperity had plunged us before.

"I confess, O Lord, that by the course of a long and healthful life vouchsafed to me, thou hast extended all those methods by which thy designs of mercy might have been visible to me if my eyes had not been diverted by the vanities of this life, and my understanding obscured and corrupted by a wilful turning of all my faculties upon the brutish, sensual, unsatisfying pleasures of this transitory world. Thus have I most miserably misspent a longer, and more vigorous, and painless life, than one man of ten thousand has reached unto, neglecting all the opportunities of doing good that thou hast put into my power, and embracing all the occasions by which I was tempted to do evil: yet hast thou spared me, and now lately given me one warning more, by a dangerous sickness, and by a marvellous recovery, showing me the misery

I had undergone, if with all the distraction and confusion I was in, for want of due preparation for death, I had been carried away to answer for multitudes of unrepented sins. Grant (O merciful God,) that this last tender of mercy may not be fruitless to me; but that I from this moment, though it be later than the eleventh hour of my life, may apply myself to redeem not only the idleness, but wickedness of the days that are past-and do thou then, O Lord, graciously accept my weak endeavours and imperfect repentance, in forgiving not only what is past, but enduing me with grace to please thee with more faithfulness and integrity for the time to come, that so, when thou shalt call for my soul, I may part with it in tranquillity of mind, and a reasonable confidence of thy mercy, through the merits of my blessed Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen."

Thomas Butler, Earl of Ossory,

BORN A.D. 1634-died a.d. 1680.

THOMAS BUTLER, Earl of Ossory, the illustrious son of the first duke of Ormonde, was born in the castle of Kilkenny, July 9th, 1634. In common with every other eminent person of his age, the records of his youth are scanty and of little interest. It is only mentioned, that he began early to show signs of the ardent spirit and thirst for military enterprise, which were afterward distinguishing features of his life.

He was in his 13th year, when he was removed to England, by his father on his leaving the government in 1647; he then remained in London, till the duke having been compelled to escape from Cromwell, sent for him and took him into France, where, in the following year, he was placed under the tuition of a French protestant clergyman at Caen. In the following year, on the return of the duke from his secret mission into England, lord Ossory was sent to an academy in Paris, where he quickly obtained very great reputation, and excelled all the other youths, chiefly the sons of the most noble families, in all the studies and exercises which belonged to the school education of the

times.

After this it is simply known that he lived for nearly two years with the duchess in Normandy until 1652, when, as we have related, she passed over to England, to solicit the restoration of some portion of her estates, when he was taken over with her, and also accompanied her in her visit to Ireland.

We have already mentioned the particulars relative to the apprehension of the young earl by order of Cromwell, after he had already given permission for his departure. There was no specific charge; it was simply alleged that he conversed with persons who were considered dangerous; the truth seems to be, that the general popularity of his character had the effect of awakening apprehensions of the consequence, which might be the result of permitting him to improve this advantage to the promotion of his father's views; it is probable, that the sagacity of Cromwell had already obtained an insight into the bold and fiery spirit, and prompt activity and talent, which afterward

rendered their possessor remarkable in the field and senate. It is mentioned, that when Cromwell's guard called to look for him, the earl was out, and his mother promised that he should appear next morning. In the mean time, it was suggested that he was at liberty to escape; neither the duchess, (then of course but marchioness) nor the spirited youth, would consent that a promise should be violated, and accordingly, he surrendered himself next day. By the advice of his mother, he then repaired to Whitehall, where he remained in the waiting room, till three in the afternoon, and during some hours, sent in several messages, to which he received no answer, until at last, he was told by Baxter, that he was desired to find lodgings for him in the Tower. He was immediately carried thither in a hackney coach, and remained until the following October, when after a dangerous fever, he was liberated for his health, on the strong representation of his physicians, and allowed to go down to Acton with his mother. This was found insufficient, and the physicians finding it necessary to recommend a trial of foreign air, à pass was with some difficulty obtained, and he went over to Holland. His younger brother Richard was sent with him, disguised as one of his servants. They landed in Flanders, where lord Ossory remained; for it was not considered advisable for him to go near the king; as it might be made a pretence by Cromwell to take away the estates which had been allowed for his mother's maintenance.

In November 1659, lord Ossory was married to Emilia, daughter to M. De Beverweert, governor of Sluys and its dependencies, and a leading man in the assembly of the states. He received with her a

fortune of £10,000, a large sum in those times, of which however, the king had the entire benefit. The young lord was not of a spirit, or at a time of life to be very anxious on the score of pecuniary considerations, and probably considered it enough to be blest with a wife not less attractive for her beauty, than for a degree of worth and prudence which endeared her quickly to all the members of the noble family, into which she was thus introduced.

After the restoration, while royal favour showered well-earned honours upon the duke of Ormonde, the earl was made (by patent), a colonel of foot in Ireland, February 8th, 1661; and in a few months after, changed into the cavalry with the same rank. In the military affairs of Ireland, at this time, there was no field for military distinction; and we feel it unnecessary to dwell on his lordship's history for the next three years, when he was raised to the rank of lieutenantgeneral, in 1665.

In the last mentioned year, he was present at the memorable seafight, between the Dutch fleet and the English, under the command of the duke of Albemarle. The reader is aware of the general history of this most dreadful and sanguinary battle, which lasted four days, and stands nearly at the head of the list of naval engagements, for the furious obstinacy with which it was contested, and the terrific variety of its incidents. It was on the second day of the battle, when the wind having abated, and the fight became, as Hume well expresses it, more steady and terrible," that the great preponderance of the Dutch force, for a time compelled the English to retreat towards their

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