%oaerau~b’ ® a r ctr c.  
     
    
   
   
    
     'I inem era of Parlirrrrient. one of the ootninisrtiuneru 
     
     -diau a irs. The Duke of York dying on the 6th of January, the 
     
    
   
   
    
     Wfiowerdtreet, liis (irar-e had been selected 
     
     I 
     
    
   
   
    
        
     
    
   
   
    
     VOL. 22. 
     
    
   
   
    
     .4- 
     
    
   
   
    
     'CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE‘EDWA.RD LELAND, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1852. 
     
    
   
   
    
     N0. 1179. 
     
    
   
   
    
     From late Papers. 
     
     Lira AND CAMPAIGNS or TIIE DUKE or war.- 
     
     LINGTON. 
     
    
   
   
    
     sourtcax. CAIIII. 
     
    

    
     Ia I_815, when a mania for a joint-stock companies. similar to 
     
     \lIs railway hallucination of 1841. seized the public ruinds. his 
     
     Grace saerted,himself greatly to restrain the infatuation of the 
     
     English ca italists; and, as an acknowledgment of his public ser- 
     
     vices in this respect alone, he was invited to a splendid banquet, 
     
    

    
     present vi‘ a maguilceat silver vase. worth £I000. 
     
    

    
     In I826, the reaction attendant upon this comrncrcial iiifritaation 
     
     burst I the countgy. 'l‘lie distress was of the severest descrip- 
     
     tion. it the 4th of arch, the Gazette contained 93 bankrupts. 
     
     Att Duke's suggestion, small notes were re-issued at the Bank 
     
     -of England. and this joined to the large amount of new coin ririrrted. 
     
     at last put an end to the ernbarrassnient. 
     
    

    
     Ilbrflraco was also appointed, with Sir Robert Peel and other 
     
     or Iii- 
     
    
   
   
    
     Dlksnf Wellington was up rated on the 2-Iti his successor as 
     
     comtnundlr-in-Chit-f and Colonel of the lat Grenadier Guards. 
     
     Ou he 10th of March his Grace was installed in the otlice of High 
     
     Cofltabie oftlie Tower. with it salary of £1000 per annurn, to 
     
     eoiunsoca from’the date ofhis appointment. At the same tirrie. he 
     
    
   
   
    
     was up inted Custos llotulorum of the Tower liarrrlets, with a 
     
     much eiitar salav ._ ‘me Minister. Lord Liverpool, having 
     
     died a plosy on the I1 of February. after holding office since 
     
     the 9th June, ISI2. the King nomirratod Mr. Canning as his suc- 
     
     cessor. Upon this, the Duke of Wellington and six other of the 
     
    

    
     Cabinet retired. his Grace resigning 
     
    
   
   
    
     principal members of tho old 
     
     the command oftlro army on e 3 
     
     secession. which has been severely criticised. caused the 
     
     failure of Cannirrg‘s Ministry. and was succeeded by Lord Goderioli, 
     
     vcrnmerrt was sliort-lived. When he resigrir-ti, the Duke 
     
     of “Val ington was instructed to frame it Cabinet. 'l‘lris lie accord- 
     
     n ly did, rosigrring the oorrirnnnd on the I5Il| of February in favour 
     
     of Lord Ilill. Mr. Iiuskisson showing some iitsuhrirdiiration, was 
     
     soon dismissed from the Cabinet; from which his friend i.ord Dud- 
     
     ley, as well as Mr. Charles Grant and Lord |'ulrnerston, also so- 
     
     ced lis lute Majesty (William IV) taking oflicnce iii a reinori— 
     
     straiico made by the Duke of \Vellington, upon the expensiveness 
     
     of his habits. also resigned his oliice of Lord High Admiral. liis 
     
     Grace‘s mode of life as Prime Minister was such as might have 
     
     been expected from his previous irrilitavy career. Ile slept on an 
     
     iron camp c stearl; rose regularly at seven; brcakfasted at eight. 
     
     and immediately commenced his otiicirrl duties. lie was the terror 
     
     of the ldlcrs at Dowrririg-atrcet. On one occasion. when the trea- 
     
     sury clerks told him that some mode of making up the accounts was 
     
     impracticable. they were met with the curt re I . ‘ Never ririrr 
     
     if you can't do it, I'll send you lialf-u-dozen pay—si.-rgéairts that 
     
    

    
     ' l'—a hint the did not fail to take. 
     
    

    
     One of tho refiirms with which the Duke of \‘\'ellirrgton‘s name 
     
     is indissolubly connected. is the repeal o the Test and Corporation 
     
     Acts, which he triuirrpliantly carried during the session of I325. in 
     
     spite oftlte fierce opposition of Lord lildon, rind other terios of the 
     
     old school. 
     
    

    
     Another measure ofu similar nature, was the Roman Catholic 
     
     Relief Bill. His Grace had shown liiiriself, when chief secretary 
     
     for Ireland, lsnieiitl disposed towards this large branch of his Mu- 
     
     jesty's stilijects. 'I' to question had been agitiitcd or many years: 
     
     and his Grace's Cabinet, after resisting the popular demands for 
     
     some time, at length determined to yield. and to perform this act 
     
     of 'uatice. Mr. Peel (the late Sir Robert) then sat for the univer- 
     
     sity of Oxford. and the first intimation of the ministry's determina- 
     
     tion was his resignation. This step caused it prodigious sensation 
     
     in the political world. and the university marked its displeasure by 
     
     electing Sir Robert Inglis in the roorir oftlie ‘ Apostate.‘ It woul 
     
     boa loo task to describe the struggle which took place in both 
     
     houses; at during the sessioti of I829, .\lr. Paul carried it through 
     
     the commons by a ma'ority of 160 on the second reading. and I78 
     
     on the third; and the Duke himself passed it through the Lords by 
     
     a majority of I05 on the second reading and I04 on the third. It 
     
     received the royal ass:-nt on the l3tli of April. Uri the l9tli of 
     
     Mqch, the Earl of \Vinclinlsen and Nottingham, a determirrcrl 
     
     opposcr of the bill, olfcrcd the Duke what his Grace considered an 
     
     insult. A new seliolas:ic institution, called King's Collwn-, hav- 
     
     ing been opened in the Strand, to cnunlr-ract tho tcrrdr-itcies oftliat 
     
     as prrtron .ord 
     
     nchelsca wrote to Mr. Colorago. the secretary, in the following 
     
     III! 3—- 
     
    
   
   
    
     so 
     
     3' 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘ I was one of those who at lirst thortglrt the plan might be prac- 
     
     ticsble, and prove rm antidote to the principles oftho l.oridun Uni- 
     
     vsrsity. Lute political events have corivirrced me, that the Wllttle 
     
     trtttlsaction was intended as n hlirid to the protestant and high church 
     
     party; and that the noble Duke, who had for some time previous 
     
     to that peri deterririnr-ii upon breaking in upon the constitution of 
     
     I688, might the more ctfeciually. under the cloak of sortie outwrrrd 
     
     show of zr-rrl for the protcrrtiuit rr.-ligiorr. curry on his insidious dc- 
     
     aiga of for the infringeinr.-nt of our liberties and the irttroductiori of 
     
     popery into every department of the state.” 
     
    

    
     The Duke of \Vellington demanded it retraction, which‘ his lord- 
     
     Cbip uecliitui to give. u the preliminaries having been settled by 
     
     Sir Henry Ilrirdinge on the one han , and the Earl of lfalrrtoutli on 
     
     tbs other. the two peers had it hostile meeting. on Saturday. the 
     
     list of March, in Bsttersea Fields. Ilis Grace tired without ctiiect. 
     
     the Earl discharged his pistol in the air, and the parties IIIIEII let 
     
     the ground. or Virrcliclsea afterwards published the retraction 
     
     demanded of him by his Grace. 
     
    

    
     On the 20th of Jununr , I829. his Grace was appointed gover- 
     
     nor of Dover Castle. and’ Lord \Vurdeu of tile Ciriqrre Ports; a 
     
     he soon afterwards added the whole of the Silehesior property to 
     
     his estate in Hampshire, so '9 domains ncqtrirer cuit of 
     
     thirty miles. and his mans‘ approached by a direct ave- 
     
    
   
   
    
     Z. 
     
    
   
   
    
     80, the Duke's~gnve fell. The ranks of his support- 
     
     ers had been thinned by the malcontent 'l‘ories. who kept nluo in 
     
     high dud out at his Relief Bill; nor did he receive any perrirrrricnt 
     
     ffflfll the \Vliigs and Roman Catholics : and. rrrriv tl cry had 
     
     been utisised for refur ' 
     
     cons' erslrls iiliir excitement. 
     
     on pOfI0l|IPo'illIIIl, and c--nsitlerslrle damage was done to his 
     
     property. The new King. \\'illr.rrir |V., had intended to liave been 
     
     at ciy feast at Guildhall. but the ministers had receive 
     
     each information. as not only induced them to advise his llajesty 
     
     Duke of \Vellington to have the 
     
    
   
   
    
     in. This the llulre refused. and the result was 
     
     His Grace himself did not as- 
     
    
   
   
    
     inst were sub'ected to severe 
     
     snirn-d-ion-by but Dir e's account or 
     
     the matter at once am» a a com ' answer to their ot.j.¢ii.m._ 
     
     and puts his Grace's character in s uiost amiable Ii ht. ' I we 
     
     have gone.‘ said he to Sir \Villiain Knlgtiton. ‘i the law had 
     
     been equal to protect me. but that was not the case. Filly dra- 
     
     gooos on horseback would have done it; but that was it nrilit.-try 
     
    

    
     ores. If firing had hcgun, who could tell when it was to end? 
     
     one gnilty i-son would fall, and ten innocent be destroyed. Would 
     
     (lib vi colt wise or humans. hr a little bravado. or that the 
     
     country t not be alnrrrred for a day or two? It is all over now. 
     
     and In an week will be forgotten.‘ 
     
    

    
     On the lbtli Novembeniri this year (I880) ministers were de- 
     
     fflltd 0| 55!‘ Henry 'amell‘s arrrmrdrnent. appointing a select com- 
     
     atittssis isgalrs iaiurhs eivii ii.-r, by a majority or ; and on 
     
     ‘I ll|0_ f0“0Wl|\£ his Grace and Sir Robert Peal announced 
     
     the resignation oftbe as t. l.orsl Git-y was named as his use.- 
     
     Cillflc I-Md Hill, however. continuing at the Horse Guards. 
     
    

    
     0| the Mill of June. lfllhlsesd John ltnssell raeorrrniensed the re- 
     
     firmdiscuhlon. and tliebill was carried on the 19th July. by a 
     
     “'80 l||J°fl|]- 0'! “'0 f0ll0WiI| it was carried up to the lords 
     
     by upwards of I00 members. , by Lords Althorps sud Rus- 
     
     *s':d was delivered to tbaI‘:vd ad for- 
     
    
   
   
    
     tiaahs "W 
     
    
   
   
    
     0-- 
     
    
   
   
    
     when the oppositiori being weakened by the dssertion of the Bishop. 
     
     of l.ondon and other lords, the bill was read a second time by 
     
     majority of nine ,—upon which. the Duke and 14 other pears en- 
     
     tered their protest on the journals. When their l0|'IIlIIlpl re-asseiii-‘ 
     
     bled, it was proposed to take the question of enfruncliisernent Eat; 
     
     a d Lord Grey, being defeated, waited on the king and gave ‘in 
     
     the alternative of either creating a suliiciont number of new peers 
     
     or of accepting his resigniition. Ilis Majesty accordingly sent for 
     
     Lord Lyttdlturst. and desired him to ogurnnicate with t e Du e 
     
     and Sir Robert Peel; but both being intractable on the reform 
     
     mention. the king recalled Lord Groy. po u ar was this step 
     
     t at the opposition gave up the contest, and the bill received IIIQ‘ 
     
     royal assent b coiiirrrission on the 1th June, I832. rl Gro wu 
     
     sonrirrfterwar s succeeded b Lord Melbourne, but the reform ini- 
     
     ixlstlry did not last long, being broken up by tho resignation of Lord 
     
     t I0l' t. 
     
     On the Ilith of November, his Grace was directed by the king- 
     
     to form it new administration, and he at once recornrrrerrded the 
     
    
   
   
    
     appointinuflof Sir Robprt Peel to the premiership. As Sir llobi-rt it 
     
    
   
   
    
     whas Illtlt} in Italy, his (srace was at first entrusted with the whole 
     
     c argeo government and the seals of the three secretaries of 
     
     state; but _when the ciibiriet was filled up, he took the direction 
     
     of the foreign affairs. The lower IIOIHB, however, cornmenced 
     
     liostrlitics. and having carried the election of the speaker, they 
     
     (‘I"8I'0i’|l.8t|.I tpe lllfllltillertl by passing a elapse for appropriating part of 
     
     t e risiciurc property to purposes o education. In consequence 
     
     ';‘|is, the iiiinisters rlpsirgned ill the April of I834. 
     
    

    
     re contest on the s orrri Act, reconciled the Duke and the 
     
     tor part , who were highly delighted by his liriii stand against the 
     
     bill. On the 29th of January,’ 1834, lllsl Grace was ‘lllllttlllllfltlsly 
     
     elected chancellor of Oxford, in the room of Lord Grenville de- 
     
     asc . 
     
     'I‘ is prissing of the Reform Dill may fl said to have formed the 
     
     tcriiitnntion of his Grace's political life, for though he contiriiit.-d to 
     
     be a warm :rrid_crr‘r’isiste|rit supperturlof the conservative party, he 
     
     never again as ire to t is premiers ii . 
     
    

    
     After this his old popularity returned, and at the coronation of 
     
     the Queen in I837 his reception by the crowd was most enthusias- 
     
     tic. larshal Suult wio was pt’-:Ir.'ttl as rrrribassrrdnr extraordi- 
     
     nary front l"rririce. was also received with loud applause. On t e 
     
     Ilitli of .luly. the cnrporrition of London gave it grand dinner to the 
     
     foreign princes and aiiilrrrssadors, at the Guildhall. The bcaltli-i of 
     
     the two heroes were tlrttiik together, with tremendous clieeriiig; 
     
     and in returning thanks. the coiriplirricrited each other in the warni- 
     
     est riirrrirrcr. ' ‘ho iu:rrsh;rl‘s speech nllbrdcd a curious contrast to 
     
    

    
     is general orders. ' 
     
    

    
     At the resigrratirrn of i.ord Melbourne in I840, the Queen sent 
     
     for the Duke. rrrrd at his suggestion cniirririssioned Rir Robert 1'».-e 
     
     to forth I! ririnistry; but the wlrigs returrrcd to ollicu, licr Majesty 
     
     relusing to dismiss the ladies of her lroriseliold. 
     
    

    
     it I3-fl. fir ltrrbert Peel succeeded in actually constituting ti 
     
     cnlriréotfi, which Ircrrralriripd up [piwor lIttIlIl t‘llielr*|<_»lj;ii.tl oftlipl crzii laws, 
     
     in L4 . a tie 51! o . ugust, ..or I restgiio t e corri- 
     
     inrrnd of the army, in corrsoqrrrrrroo of the state of his lroaltlr, and 
     
     the Duke, who once more iiucceudod to that lulpurlttltl ullice. has 
     
     held it ever since. 
     
    

    
     For the last few years of his life. the Duke was consulted by 
     
     ministers, and iritlo.-ed by her .\l:rjesty herself, who is understood to 
     
     have liked to take his opinion on- ii I iiiittcrs of iriiportnirce. Ile 
     
     lind always very regularly confurriicd to social ohscrvuiices, and 
     
     itiirrglcd largely with the society to tvliicli lic bcloirgo ._ ' 
     
     |'pyttt:tl‘?lli‘.ti' iii a_t‘:rt'e was opt tin: tycuasrtpji ofl IIIIL dissolupop 0; par?! 
     
     rarrien , wrcnr ocarrre its tu to a tie carer 0 tie war 
     
     of State. Tire verreralrle Duke, feeble with age, was accordingly 
     
     see-.n illl hip pllaco..c.p_rryi.iig title ll‘tl!‘.lltI)y land vlenerarblc \\:etIp0til’,I ipiy. 
     
     even p ay a porn mg it at .or or >_v w ro was jcrttitig wi i rim 
     
     about his di culiy in csrr ing it. His, latest remrrrkrrble 
     
     was in the House o I.o_r s. when he ainpliatically crime forward 
     
     to signify his approbation of Sir llrirry Srrittlr’u conduct of the 
     
     Kaflir wrrr. This speech was reiiiarkrrblo for its clerirncss, and a 
     
     certain air of deriioirstr:rtinn—as if his Grace wished, as was natu- 
     
     tural ugh, to give all the wt-iglit of his authority, to aid ti brave 
     
     poldwho had been trcnted by government in a way equally un- 
     
     just and ungenerous. Irencrally, he continued to perforirr the cus- 
     
     tomary routine oflii.-i life with his rrotablc prrrictualit . 
     
    

    
     lie bird gone to \Vrrlrirer Cnstlt-—nrid tlrrit his general health was 
     
     still good, we rrray learn from the fact, that on last Saturday af- 
     
     loE.l'rL00l‘IllQi\‘.'frd6 uvpr on lharplelrnck Ito _l)uvcr. iirtdan ‘llirs pl.-iprlrcity 
     
     0 or 'a on. inspece re wor ‘.1 in progress in re armor 
     
     of liefuge. and other dopartrrrorits. I c then scurried in excellent 
     
     health and s ririts. 
     
    

    
     His death in ry be said to have been sudden. 
     
    
   
   
    
     O 
     
     0 
     
    
   
   
    
     lie died after a 
     
    
   
   
    
     was riaturrrl decay. lrut tliu iirriirmliatu agency described in the 
     
     word ‘tits’ was doubtless an ctlirsiori of writer upon his rrriii. 
     
     Gradual stupefrrctioir would be the result, irird also corrvulsioirs, but 
     
     it is probable that his death wits without pain. Ila expired at half- 
     
     past three in the trftr-riroon. 
     
    

    
     'l‘lie lluke is succeeded by his son Arthur, the Marquis of Douro, 
     
     who was born in I307. e is u coloirel iii the army, and tirurrit.-d 
     
     iii I339, a daughter oftho lilarquiri of 'I'wci.-ddllc. 
     
    

    
     'lill“. DUlil".'S PEIISUNAI. IIABITS. 
     
    
   
   
    
     The Duke‘s personal habits were extremely tcnrpcratc, if no 
     
     abr-tciirirrirs. lie slept little, and wht-tlier from old iirilitavy associ- 
     
     rrtionsirr for healtli's sake, used it hard mattress and a cai.n bed. 
     
     Ile appeared to avoid display in his dross. eq-ripagc. and nttundarits, 
     
     preferring horse exercise to the state rind luxury ofn carriage; and 
     
     even when increasing weakness rendered it a task ofsorne drliiculty 
     
     to sit erect u too liorsubtrck, day after day he was still to e scen 
     
     iirirblirrg slowly down to the House of lords. tuuclring his bat to 
     
     the crowds asscirrblr-,d round the entrance to catch a glrrrrce of the 
     
     vulerriii warrior. Ilis household was said to be it model of good 
     
     order and good rriariagornerit. I e incurred no debts; punctual and 
     
     precise in all his dealings. lie was riiwiivs just, rriid frcqiroiitly. 
     
     though privately, generous. Ilis \\'nti.-rloo buirqnots, .I\‘il|(.'lI tiir 
     
     many years drew around him his surviving companions in arms in 
     
     this his last glorious field, were the only exceptions to his usual 
     
     irrilitfercnce to display. On these occasions only. the massive scr- 
     
     viccs of pliite and priceless cliintt. pictures, stat e , and all the 
     
     other frnoiirs, iinnoiirs, und pri-serrts which lirid been conferred upon 
     
     hirnzy the [sovereigns of Europe, were not inappropriately dis_ 
     
     Pl‘! 
     
    
   
   
    
     ' 1-iir. nuitirs CIIARACTBR. 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     (Frost tits London Tisiu.) ' 
     
    
   
   
    
     If aught can lessen this day the grief of England upon the death 
     
     of her greatest son. it is the recollection that the life which has just 
     
     closed. leaves no duty incomplete, and no ooour uribeslowr-il. 
     
     The Duke of Wellington had exhausted nature and exhausted glory. 
     
     Ilis career was one one ou lmrgcst day, filled fft)'Il dawn to 
     
     nightfall with IOIIOWIIHI actions, orriirrated by urrfuilirrg energy in 
     
     the public service. guided by urrswcrving principles of conduct and 
     
     of statesrrianslrip. Ile rose, by u re id series o uclricvciirerrts 
     
     which none had surpassed, to a position which no other man in this 
     
     nation ever enjo ed. The place occupied lry the Duke of Welling- 
     
     ton in the councils oftlie country and in tire life of lirigland can 
     
     no more be tilled. There is irons left in the army or the senate to 
     
     act and speak with like authority. There is aorta with whom the 
     
     valour and the worth of this nation were so incorporate. Yet, when 
     
     we consider the llflneas of his years, and the abundance of his iii- 
     
     cesaunt services. we ma learn to say with the Roman orator, ' Nor 
     
     tin dirt ct'.i:i'ssc di'ct'lor.' since, being mortal. nothing could be added 
     
     either to our venerution or to his arne. Nature herself had scum-rl 
     
     for a tisvre to expand lie inexorable lirrrits, and the irrfirirrntir-s of 
     
     u e to lay a litthtcr burtbnn on that lroriourod head. Generations 
     
     of men had passed away between the first exploits of his arms and 
     
     the lust counsels of his age, until. by lot unexnnrplerl in history the 
     
     man vibohsd lsyed the most conspicuous arts in the annals of 
     
     rriore than bu f it ec_ntury became the last survivor of .itis con- 
     
     temporaries, and carries with him to the grave, all living inernory 
     
     of his own achievements. To what a century. to what a country. 
     
     to what achievements was that life successfully dedicated ! For its 
     
     prodigious duratioa—l"or the multiplicity of contemporary clis rs 
     
     and events for outiisrrrtiovirig the course of its days and years- or 
     
     the invariable and unbroken stream of success which attended it 
     
     thin its cornmeacsrnsat to itscless. from the Ivst lush of trium- 
     
    
   
   
    
     pbsrit ulcer is ipfis war, to_tht ssaatsrlal wlsisn as which 
     
    
   
   
    
     the severe’ it and the nation hang for counsel to the latest hour- 
     
     the unbeu irig firmness of character which bore alike all labour 
     
     and all prosperity——snd for unalierable uttirclinient to the some 
     
     objects, the same principles, the same duties, undisturbed by the 
     
     passions of youth and unrelaxed by t e honours and enjoyrrionts 
     
     of peace a_ndofage—ths|ife of the Duke of \Vellington stands 
     
     alone_in hrstor . In him. at least, prosperity ivill trace a character 
     
     superior to the highest and most nbundunt gifls of fortune. ‘If the 
     
     d ' Ieroisrn ’ can be not unfairly applied to him. it is because 
     
      remained greater than his own prosperity, and rose above the 
     
     rnptatioris by which other inert of equal genius. btit less self- 
     
     I0V9|’l||||6IIl. have fallen below their destinies. llis life has no- 
     
     thing to griiri frorri the language of pnnegyric, which would coin- 
     
     psre his military exploits or his civil stntesrnansbip with the prowess 
     
     of an Alexander or s Cicsar, or with the astonishing career of liiru 
     
     who saw his empire overthrown by the llritisli general iit \Vaterloo. 
     
     .—'I'hese were the olfsprirrg of passion rind o genius, flung frorii the 
     
     Ivolcanic depth of revolutions and of civil war to sweep wit me- 
     
     'torlc splendour across the earth, and to cellupss ‘I darkness before 
     
     ha|_ftlrs work oflife was done. ‘heir violenos. their ambition, 
     
     their rornautic existence. their reverses. and their crimes, will for 
     
     ever fascinate the interest of mankind, and constitute the secret of 
     
     their farne. if not of their greatness. T such attractioris the life 
     
     and cliarncter oftlie Duke of \Vcllington present no analogy. 
     
     he rose to scarcely inferior renown, it was by none of the passions 
     
     or the arts which they indulged or employed. Unvanquished in 
     
     t afield his swor was never drawn for territorial conquest, but 
     
     for the independence of Europe and the salvation of his country. 
     
     Raised by the universal gratitude of Europe and of this nation to 
     
     the highest point of rank and power xthicli a subject of the British 
     
     innnurclry could attain. he were those digiiilics, rind lie used that 
     
     in uorice, within the strictest limits of it suhject’s uty. w 
     
     was ever twisted to his will, no right was ever sacriticod by one 
     
     hair's breadth for his irggrarrdiseirtent. There lived not a man, 
     
     evenniiioiig iii-Izintrigoiiisls, who could say, that this great duke 
     
     had wrorrgcd him; for his entire existence was devoted to the cause 
     
     of legal authority and regulated power. on seek in it in vain for 
     
     those strokes of ritirliicious enterprise, which in other great captains, 
     
     ' rivals in liiriie, have sorrietirrics won t e prize o crowns or 
     
     turned the fate of natioris. But his whole career shines with the 
     
     steady light rrfrlny : it has nothing to conceal; it has nothing to 
     
     interpret by the flexible organs of history. livery thing in it is runn- 
     
     ly, compact. and clear; slirrpr-d to one rrilc of public duty, arrininted 
     
     by one passion. the love offirrglartd and the service of the crown. 
     
     The Duke tori lived, corirtiiarulud, and governed iii 
     
     unconscious inditfercnce or disdrrirrful nvcrsiori of those common 
     
     incentives of liuiiian action w rich are derived from the powers of 
     
     imagination and of sentiment. Ile held ilrerrr clicttp, both in their 
     
     weakness and in their strength. The force and wei lit of his chri- 
     
     raoler ritoopcrl to no such ndvcntitirrusi iirliuencos. I o iiiiglit have 
     
     kindled irrure eritliusirisrii, especially in the early and doubtful days 
     
     of his l’eirirrsular career; but 'i his sirccess and triuiiipliurrt pur- 
     
     suits of glory, hr.-r iiaiiio iicvnr pas-iicd his lips, even in ltis irtldrcssos 
     
     to his soldiers. is entire nature anal cliaractcr were moulded on 
     
     rcality. He lived ltlsltfttllllllgs rrs they wore. llis acute glance 
     
     and cool judgiiicrit pierced rrtorrco through the surface which en- 
     
     tarrglr-s the irrrzrgirrrrtiuri or kirrdles the syiiipirthy of tire feelings. 
     
     Truth, as he loved her, is to be reached by ri ronglicr p:rtli rind 
     
     sterner minds. in wrrr. in rolitics, and in the coriirtrnii lrurisactions 
     
     of life. the Duke of Wellington adhered iirllcsibly to the most 
     
     precise correctness in words air lis tenipcrurrient nbhorrcd 
     
     disguises arid despised exaggerations. The fearlessiiass of iris ac- 
     
     tions wns never the result of speculative confidence or fool-hardy 
     
     presumption, but lay rrrainly in it just perception of the true relation 
     
     in which he stood to his arrtagouists ill the field or in the serrate. 
     
     _'I‘he greatest exploits of his life, such as the pans e of the aura, 
     
     followed by march on Madrid. the battle \\’aterloo. rind 
     
     the passing of the Catholic Relief Bill, were performed under no 
     
     cirr.-urriiitrirrccs that could inspire antliurriasrir. Nothing but the 
     
     coolness of the player could have won the mighty stakes upon u 
     
     cast irppareiitly no adverse to his success. Other tainiinandcrs have 
     
     attained the liighest pitch of glory when they disposed of the coins- 
     
     sal resources of empires. and iendi.-d armies already flushed with 
     
     the conquest of the world The Duke of \Vellirigtnii found no such 
     
     ericuurrigr.-itrent in an iart of his CiIi’L'(!|'. t ito time were tie‘ 
     
     iricaris rrt his disposal adr-qriatc to the ready anti certain execution 
     
     of his designs. Ilis steady progrr-as in tire l'erririsrr|ar cariipaigirs 
     
     went on against the current of fortune, till that current was itself 
     
     turned by perseverance rind resolution. lie had a clear and coin- 
     
     plcte pcrccptiorr o the .tt=g(‘rs lrn crrcourrterr-,rl, but he saw and 
     
     raspord the latent power wltitzli llillii-HI Iilllltf rlrrrigr-is and sitrrirourrt- 
     
     ed rusislnitcr.-s apprirerit y iriviticililc. 'l his is pr:-rtisrrly the lriglii-,st 
     
     drrgrce of courage, for it is courage conscious, eiillglttuitutl, and de- 
     
     teriiiiiicd. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Clearness of discernmerii, correctness of j-rrlgnierit, and rectitrrdo 
     
     in action. were witlioai rlrrulrt, the principal t2l4!lll(‘IIl!I oftlrc Uu.u:'s 
     
     brilli.rirt :iclri<.-vrrrricrrts lll war, and his vast authority in the coun- 
     
     cils oflilwt country. its well as in the vast cririlerciiccs of liriropo. 
     
     'l‘liey gave to his detcrriritizitioiisiiii origirirrlity and \'i,'.;uut’ -‘tliltt III 
     
     that of genius, lllltl soiiictiriirrs, iiiipartr.-d toliis laii;:u:rgc tr tic- 
     
     bate ii pith rriid signiticrrrrcr: at which lllrlrc liriliirrrt rrratrrrs fzrilcd 
     
     to i I is llllllr . equally careless uf ulrstaittlr.-s and of trlicct, 
     
     lravullr-d by the sliurrestruail to its end; and he I'eI.Iillt!\I, uvcrr in 
     
     his latest years, all this procisiriir with which lie was wont to liairrlle 
     
     the subject that came before lririi, or had at any time etigrosscd lriri 
     
     attention. This was the secret of that urrtauglrt rnarrlirrr-as and aim 
     
     plicity of style, that pervades the vast collection of his dusprrtclre-r, 
     
     written, as they were. amidst the varied cares and eiiiotirrnsot'wiii'; 
     
     and of that lucid rind appropriate mode of expressioii which never 
     
     failed to leave a clear irrrpresrsion on the itiiirtls of those wlrorri be 
     
     addressed. Utlror rireri have enjoyed, even in this age. more vivid 
     
     faculties of invention and contrivrrnco, n more caterrded range of 
     
     foresight, and ii iiinre subtle coiiiprelieiision of the changing lsus 
     
     society. and the world. But the value of those liner perci-ptiorrs 
     
    

    
     and of the policy founded upon them, has never been iriore l|sls.|Ill.fitI, 
     
     than when it was trio air adriiittcd by the wisdom and putriotisrrr 
     
     : of that venerable iirirrd. ills superiority ovcrartlicr iiicn crriisrstr-J 
     
     rather in the perfcctiori of those qualities which he prc-_errrrueiitly 
     
     possessed, than in the variety or extent of his other fncirlties 
     
     'l'lImte powers, wliicli were urierring wlicii npplir-d to de- 
     
     finite and certain facts. srrrrretimcs failed in the nppu_!cI:IlI¢It _uf 
     
     C€|ItIt‘l which had not hitherto come under their olrscrvritiun. 
     
     perhaps, less to be wondered at, that the soldier rrrrd tlic ll:IIf‘F'll‘l:lII 
     
     of IBIS. burn and lirctl in llI'5 highest school of Tory polllli‘-3. 
     
     should have miscarried in his opinion of those eventful time wlricli 
     
     fallowotl the accession of William IV., than that the defeated up- 
     
     ponent of reform in 18%| should have risen into the p:rt.iot senrrtnr 
     
     of I846 and lttr')I. Yrt the ridrrrinistratioir of I828. In which ‘tho 
     
     Duke of \Vellinglori ortcupiied tho first and most rt-spriiisrlrlo 
     
     place. passed the Catholic bliirrirrcipritioti Act, and tlrcrclry gave 
     
     the signal of a rupture ill the Tory party never sftertvords entirely 
     
     healed, rind struck the licnvii-st blow on a system. tvliiclt the grow- 
     
     ing energies of the ri:rtion resorrtcrl and corrdcurrrud. ltusolute to 
     
     oppose what he coirrrcivcil to bo popular clrriuutir, tio_in:rtr ever 
     
     recognised with iirorulidt-lity, the Clitllltl trfn_ l'r'r~,i-. iiatiuri to tho 
     
     graduirldcvelopeiiicnt of its iiitert-sts and l'I rights; nor were I! 
     
     services to the cause of liberty and improveinonis the less great be- 
     
     cause they usually consisted in beri ill‘ the will or drsarrrrrng tlte 
     
     prejudices oftheir fiercest opporrerrts. .\ttnclierl by birth, by cha- 
     
     racm-, and h ovinion. to the order and the cause of the British 
     
     aristocracy. tie ulte of \Velliogton knew that tlie true power of 
     
     that ruoo of nobles lies, in this rigs of the world. iritheiririviol_:ibla 
     
     attacliniont to constitutional piinciplr-s. and their honest recogrittiori 
     
     of ',.,',,,|.,. fish“, Animus]. his personal resolution and his military 
     
     oxpericiice quulificd lririi lictti-r tlirin other men to be tie cham- 
     
     pion of resistance to popular lIIfl|lllt!ltC|!.f|IItI scdrtiun, as he showed 
     
     by his preparations iir .\lrry, I832, and in April l3|3. )'9l “'|'dN|| 
     
     and forlrearanco wera avr-.r Ilia harrdrrrriidr-ns of his courage, and 
     
     while most tirrrily rletnrrrririv.-d to defend. it necessary. the authority 
     
     of the state, he was the tirst to set an example of conciliatory sa- 
     
     gysficg in the reasonable clrrirris rrf the nation. lie was the Carolina 
     
     of our senate. after having been our (fir-our in the field; and, iftlio 
     
     oomrrroowealth of England had ever saluted one of lit-,r citizens 
     
     with the IIOtItt\n litll! of Prrrerts I’rIli'i¢, that Ittucllttljl‘ lr-uiour 
     
     would have been added to the peerage. and tho llaion in Arthur‘ 
     
     Wallssley. by the respectful gratitude and faith of the people. “I 
     
    
   
   
    
     Though singularly free from every trace of cant 
     
     no stranger to the sublime _ 
     
     sssiduous in the observance of ilrepublic ritual of [I 
     
    
   
   
    
     O 
     
     "5 
     
    
   
   
    
     ._ . / 
     
    
   
   
    
     England. At times, even in the sxtromeyeriod of lib ,_asusa 
     
     accident would betray the deep current 0 fueling wb&' I 
     
     ceased to entertain towards all ,that was chivslrnus Ind , 
     
     His olttiritics were anostcntatioas but extensive, and be bmbwsd 
     
     his interest throughout life upon an incredible nunibd of par 
     
     and things which claimed his notice and solicited I'D I“- 
     
     ceremorr , every rnsrry-making, found him ready to talc his part 
     
     in it. e had a smile for the yous est child. a compliment for the 
     
     prettiest face, no answer to the res iest tongue, and u lively intent 
     
     in every incident of life which itsssnied be end the power of age 
     
     to chill. When time had somewhat relase the sterner mould of 
     
     is man . its effects were chiefly indicated by an unabated 
     
     taste for the amusements of fashionable society . incongruous at 
     
     tinres with the dignity of extreme old age ii the recollections of 
     
     so virile a career. But it seemed it part of the uke's character, 
     
     that every thing that presented itself. was equally welcome. for be 
     
     had become n part of every thing. and it was brcign to his nature 
     
     to stand alo_of from any occurrence to which his presence could 
     
     contribute. He seems never to have felt the flagging spirit or the 
     
     reluctant step of indolcnce or ennui’. or to have recoilsd from any 
     
     thing thrit remained to be done; and this complete performance 
     
     of every duty, however small, as long as life remained. was the 
     
     same quality which had carried him in triumph through his cum- 
     
     ptiigns. and raised him to be one of the chief ministers of England 
     
     and arbiter of the fate ofliurope. It has been said that in the most 
     
     active and illustrious lives there comes at last sortie inevitable hour 
     
     of melancholy and of satiety. Upon the Duke of VVe|liirgton that 
     
     hour left no impression. and. probably, it never shed its influence 
     
     over him: for he never rested on his former achievements or his 
     
     length of days. but marched onwards to the end. still bending the 
     
     the youthful generations which had sprung into life around him, and 
     
     scrrrcely less intent on their pursuits tlr.rn they are themselves. It 
     
     tvns a tinely balanced mind to liiive worn so bravel and so well. 
     
     \Vhen riien in after-times shall look back to the annals of En land 
     
     for exnrrrple of energy and public virlie among those who ave 
     
     raised this country to her station on the earth, no name will renrain 
     
     more conspicuous or unsullied. than that of Arthur \Vel|csley, the 
     
     great i)uke of VVcllington. The actions of his life were extraor- 
     
     dinary, but his chnractsr was equal to his actions. w s the 
     
     very type and model of an I-Englishman; and. though men are 
     
     prone to invest the wovtlries of former ages, with a dignity and 
     
     merit they coinrnonly wiililiold from their corrtein 
     
     select none from t re long array of our captains an 
     
     taken for all in all. can claim a rivalry with him who is gone from 
     
     among us, an inlieritor of iriipcrislrablo fame. 
     
    
   
   
    
     PLACES IIELD nv Tilt: LATE DUKE. 
     
     (From the London Daily News.) _ 
     
    
   
   
    
     By the Duke of \Vellington's death it rich batch of places frills 
     
     into the lap of Ministers—placeri ol the richest, and honors of the 
     
     most showy and most coveted class. \\'ith the disposal of ‘some 
     
     of these windfalls the pubiic linve butlittle right to meddle-in re- 
     
     forenco to others ' ' their serious and urgent duty to interfere. 
     
     Who shall have the newly vacant Garter—whctlier in Lord This 
     
     or his Grace of 'I‘lr:rt shrill wear it, is not the afliiir_o the people. 
     
     Tire blue riband is one of tlrosedistinctionri rnuch prized for its ra- 
     
     rity; intended lor the aristocracy, and in the disposal ofwhich the 
     
     Crown and the Minister are’ exclusively entitled to decide. 'I be 
     
     same inay.perhnps, be said of the two Lord-Lieutennneies of Hump- 
     
     shire and of tlie'l‘ower Iinrrrlets. These are ollices in the peculiar 
     
     gift of the Sovereign, and of her advisers for the time betng—oIices 
     
     which can and may be allotted as seems best to those iii whose gift 
     
     the law places them. Tire colorrelcy in the Grenadier Guards, 
     
     with its £1200 n-year, will be a military perquisrtc—-the aster- 
     
     sliip of Trinity lieuse concerns 'I'ower-hill, and the Chancellorahtp 
     
     of Uxford, will give a topic and a duty to the Dons of that ancient 
     
     seat of urrrreforrrrrrrg learning. llut after this concession, we must 
     
     draw a distinct line, and declare that all other sppoirrtrncnts now 
     
     vacant have a peculiar character whic i renders the re-disposal of 
     
     them an affair ofvital importance to the well-Ireing of the counts . 
     
     Whilst the Duke of Wellington lived. nobody ever senoirs y 
     
     thought of disturbing any of the ofiiccs in his peculiar possession. 
     
     The country secnri-d never tired of rewarilinglllm. ttI_llI6 follnd 
     
     sums onc alter another voted to him by l'arliiiiirent Iltlliitlflllly tes- 
     
     tify. Aftcr Iliidrrjoz and S.rl.-itnaircii, they gave llltll £100,000 ‘-0 
     
     brty an estate; after ’l‘oulouse, .€~I00 000 rrrorciflml “rm-I‘ ‘V‘_‘l°'l°° 
     
     another round sum of £2|l(l.0t)tl-—l)esides voting him it 
     
     his own lifcrirrd for the livers of his two next iirnle heirs of £2000 
     
     ii-year,srihecqno-rrtly rai-"ed to .1.'-I000, and paid from the Consoli- 
     
     dated Fund. This pension will now be psi tothe present Duke 
     
     of \Vclliir-_r,tnit. and since he has no children, nfterwiirdsto l.or_d 
     
     Charles Wulloslcy, should lie survive his brother. and if not, to lii_s 
     
     lrcir riiu e. lrrlrerilirrg their f-.itlicr‘s titles, pensioii. and a great pri- 
     
     vale wualilr, the children of the late Duke require no fav_ors from 
     
     the irr'inistr_v, and hence the disposal of the vacant appointments 
     
     is quite uirfetti.-red on behalf of the \\r'ellingtoii fariirily. \Vould that 
     
     no other private influences were in the way; but since such things 
     
     do exist. they must Ire riir.-t lrrrlrlly and openly. The “MIC 'e"{‘°' 
     
     tittfll riot in this crrsr-. be §.'lC|‘lliCtfIl ltittltl the wliccdlc of the counter, 
     
     or to t'tIll:tll(‘.t.' the lrrrlra of the prrrtizan. _ ‘ 
     
    

    
     'l'lie irnpnrtairt post of Comrrrarrdcr-iii-clrir-f must be given to it 
     
     tltorougli vctcrari soldier. \\'e are told every now null then that 
     
     our coir.-its are in dairgcr,—if tlrr-y really were so, what I ouldlwe 
     
     do if a carpet knight. an aristocratic routinci.-rt, or a mere riitirttnct 
     
     of the drill lit,-ld the chief post of irriliiriry power? \V0 have I000 
     
     in the career of the great soldier who has just passed away the vast 
     
     iriipnrtnnra of sterling prrciicnl ability for the ncti_ve operations of 
     
     war. Sir Arthur Wclleslvy became Coinmander-in-Chief because 
     
     he was zi victorious General; the history ofthe liIte_ Duke of Yolk 
     
     shows what bocoiiie of appointments based on claims of another 
     
     sovt—c|.-ririrs rrf pedigres rriid friinily position. The Duke of York 
     
     became Coirimiirdr-i-iii-Clricf because he was sort of a lung. _'I he 
     
     one is known by \Vaterloo-—the 0Il\t‘l by his rrrelanclroly failure 
     
     in the Notlrerlairds and his ilir-graceful proceedings with Mrs. Clarke. 
     
     Nothing is more trul practical than vvar; in nothing is incompetence 
     
     Ill-trot fatal. Noto y the safety of ngrsiit clnplfvs ll" 3" an 
     
     progn.-as of civilisation itself. iiray be pcrrlli-d by cntrulittg N 
     
     wrong hands the iiiilitriry rnscliinery organised for national purposes. 
     
     '|‘o cuiniiirriul arrirics,vctararr soldiers, not aniiu_ble pI‘Ittc0I.IVO  
     
     ed. We want, Ii-0. not only military experience an 1"“ 
     
     at tho IIt)r'rlt! (.‘u:rnla, hut active inilitary ensrgy. \Ve want lrrny 
     
     rt-forrri. \'i'c neud real changes in rcsent_ plum. "01 'l'°V’7‘" 9" 
     
     porirrrental alterations of buttons srrd facmgs. bu't_ bolt _ 
     
     pt'0\‘cll)cnlI in thadress and sruriiiig of our forces. lire last thirty- 
     
     onrs have made great rnilitary reforms abroad. Wm‘ P0" 
     
    
   
   
    
     fin 
     
    
   
   
    
     ueven ‘ 
     
     tiori n which it would be well to have adopted bars. :1 liese a _new 
     
     (‘onrninnder should, from old aipeireircs, be able to npprecuig. 
     
    

    
     - s 
     
    
   
   
    
     and wulic.-rrrrpaigrring pvoiriptiturle be ready to adopt. 
     
     of the Duke of \Vel|rogtorr tiittst be. as far as _ 
     
     by the wisrlnrii exercised in the appointiiierrt ol his successor at 
     
     the Ilorse Grr.-irrls. Prince Albert and the Duke of 
     
     both I)I!l!I| l’llIlIll‘tI by rumour its possible candidates  the v 
     
     corrrrrrand. llut I‘i‘iiic.c Albert already enjoys the irrilitiiry 
     
     Fir-id Marslizrl, anal is too well provided‘  
     
    

    
     8 9 .'t~d:iy. which falls to it Coiiiiii:iiidcr—tri ‘ l|"‘ 
     
     solid gnral >.(>lt~i0 he has hitherto slinwfl "1"" ""0 
     
     him u.-Iry lit» .-lioirld not aspire to iv-rr-ld lllt! bum 
     
     victor of \\'att-rloo. lndeird the ruirrorir * t 
     
     of Carirbrirlge, too, must surely/‘be conic 
     
    
   
   
    
     My advan- 
     
     to him. HI 
     
    
   
   
    
     canto of imp|‘°l"“ 
     
    
   
   
    
     tagcs which his elevated birth liris alr uy'_ Pm“ ‘Mum, 
     
     would rrcv . the («|"‘I“°‘ . been .9- 
     
     Other uicanciss H113!“ mh” ancioltl "lb" fl‘ |tl30l'tII|tIcO 
     
    

    
     3 '[‘..wnr must nm_'I. I" 
     
    
   
   
    
     I iiitnicnts. 'l‘lic Lori . ,.,,. 
     
     riliilifirin open, till the jurisdr on pmpr-r footirig- .hu.edlI‘l:|l::|‘d run- 
     
     frrrrrrorl; the post oft'on flu, figgt of these Ip[KMiIl‘fl;w' CM‘ . b._ 
     
     with former plans. ‘C p,-‘mes Consort. and W" ' 
     
    

    
     per Cltflitgna ltetgy 
     
    
   
   
    
     House. 1 the chief need ll. 
     
     ably fall to thy me ‘I f,,u,,,_;\i, prcscn weighing 
     
     come a sec '‘‘“°' “W ‘ii, rim-d oftlro nil}; "Ml 
     
    
   
   
    
     . hig5n1' wgg _gelflIrO, IIKI 
     
     influence of religious truth. I ‘wk of 
     
     )’ I 
     
    
   
   
    
     dutisCh_°‘l"‘l‘z 
     
     no 
     
     u ‘,1. gratiftclflmli ’ 
     
    

    
     Aim‘ f|’Ot'tit|fl| I“ ‘he 
     
    

    
     tions. be mus rovitlu « . . "1 
     
     the Minister igllrasi polar-at «v t''‘''“‘’'' ' 
     
     grass.