charged upon them by those who looked carelessly into their books as opinions which, not merely for the sake of consistency, they thought themselves bound to endure, but to which they gave the full weight of their sanction and patronage as to so many moving principles in their system. The other disadvantage under which Walking Stewart laboured was this: he was a man of genius, but not a man of talents; at least his genius was out of all proportion to his talents, and wanted an organ, as it were, for manifesting itself, so that his most original thoughts were delivered in a crude state, imperfect, obscure, half-developed, and not producible to a popular audience. He was partially aware of this himself; and though he claims everywhere the faculty of profound intuition into human nature, yet, with equal candour, he accuses himself of asinine stupidity, dulness, and want of talent. He was a disproportioned intellect, and so far a monster: and he must be added to the long list of original-minded men who have been looked down upon with pity and contempt by commonplace men of talent, whose powers of mind, though a thousand times inferior, were yet more manageable, more self-interpreted, and ran in channels better suited to common uses and common understandings.

THE MARQUESS WELLESLEY.*

Ir sounds like the tolling of funeral bells, as the annunciation is made of one death after another amongst those who supported our canopy of empire through the last most memorable generation. The eldest of the Wellesleys is gone; he is gathered to his fathers: and here we have his life circumstantially written.

Who, and of what origin, are the Wellesleys? There is an impression current amongst the public, or there was an impression, that the true name of the Wellesley family is Wesley. This is a case very much resembling some of those imagined by the old scholastic logicians, where it was impossible either to deny or to affirm: saying yes, or saying no, equally you told a falsehood. As if, being asked whether you killed your wife by strychnia, then to reply yes would be directly to own the crime; but, on the other hand, to reply no would be indirectly to own it—since it would be argued that you admitted the killing, by denying that you did it by strychnia. The case as to the Wellesleys is briefly this: The family was originally English; and in England, at the earliest era, there is no doubt at all that its name was De Wellesleigh, which was pronounced

* Suggested by Mr Pearce's " Memoirs and Correspondence."

in the eldest times just as it is now-viz., as a dissyllable* -the first syllable sounding exactly like the cathedral city Wells, in Somersetshire, and the second like lea (a field under some modification). It is plain enough, from various records, that the true historical genesis of the name was precisely through that composition of words which here, for the moment, I had imagined merely to illustrate its pronunciation. Lands in the diocese of Bath and Wells, running up almost to the gates of Bristol, constituted the earliest possessions of the De Wellesleighs. They, seven centuries before Assaye and Waterloo, were "seised" of certain rich leas held under the Dean and Chapter of Wells. And from these Saxon elements of the name, some have supposed the Wellesleys a Saxon race. They could not possibly have better blood: but still the thing does not follow from the premisses. Neither does it follow from the de that they were Norman. The first De Wellesley known to history, the very tip-top man of the pedigree, is Avenant de Wellesleigh. About a hundred years nearer to our own times-viz., in 1239-came Michael de Wellesleigh, of whom the important fact is recorded, that he was the father of Wellerand de Wellesleigh. And what did young Mr Wellerand perform in this wicked world, that the proud muse of history should condescend to notice his rather singular name five hundred and fifty-five years† exactly after his decease? Reader, he was-"killed:" that is all; and in company with Sir Robert de Percival; which again argues

*"As a dissyllable:"-Just as the Annesley family, of which Lord Valentia is the present head, do not pronounce their name trisyllabically (as strangers often suppose)-viz., Ann-es-ley-but as if Anns (in the possessive case)-ley. In Scotland, this ancient English name is altogether transfigured into the Scottish name of Ainslie.

"Five hundred and fifty-five years:"-i. e., not in the year of original publication, thirteen years ago, but now, in the year of revisal and ! republication-viz., in 1858.

his Somersetshire descent; for the family of Lord Egmont, the head of all Percivals, ever was, and ever will be, in Somersetshire. But how was he killed? The time when -viz., 1303-the place where, are known; but the manner how is not exactly stated. It was in skirmish with rascally Irish "kernes," fellows that (when presented at the font of Christ for baptism) had their right arms covered up from the baptismal waters, in order that, still remaining consecrated to the devil, those arms might inflict a devilish blow. Such a blow, with such an unbaptised arm, the Irish villain struck; and there was an end of Wellerand de Wellesleigh. Strange that history should make an end of a man before she had made a beginning of him. These, however, are the facts; which, in writing a romance about Sir Wellerand and Sir Percival, I shall have great pleasure in falsifying. But how, says the too curious reader, did the De Wellesleighs find themselves amongst Irish kernes? Had these scamps the presumption to invade Somersetshire? Did they dare to intrude into Wells? Not at all: but the pugnacious De Wellesleighs had dared to intrude into Ireland. Some say in the train of Henry II. Some say but no matter: there they were; and there they stuck like limpets. They soon engrafted themselves into the County of Kildare, from which, by means of a fortunate marriage, they leaped into the County of Meath; and in that county, as if to refute the pretended mutability of human things, they have roosted ever since. There was once a famous copy of verses floating about Europe, which asserted that, whilst other princes were destined to fight for thrones, Austria-the handsome house of Hapsburg-should obtain thrones by marriage:

"Pugnabunt alii: tu, felix Austria, nube."*

* "Nube:"-One must wink at blunders where royalties are concerned;

So of the Wellesleighs. Sir Wellerand took quite the wrong way: not cudgelling, but courting, was the correct line of policy in Kildare. Two great estates, by two separate marriages, the De Wellesleighs obtained in Kildare; and by a third marriage, in a third generation, they obtained, in the County of Meath, an estate known by the name of Castle Dengan (otherwise Dangan), with lordships as plentiful as blackberries. Castle Dangan came to them in the year of our Lord 1411-i. e., four years before Agincourt; which memorable battle was fought exactly four hundred years before Waterloo-ergo in 1415. And in Castle Dangan did Field-Marshal the Man of Waterloo draw his first breath, shed his first tears, and perpetrate his earliest trespasses. That is what one might call a pretty long spell for one family. Four hundred and thirtyfive years *has Castle Dangan furnished a nursery for the Wellesley piccaninnies. Amongst the lordships attached to Castle Dangan was Mornington, which, more than three centuries afterwards, supplied an earldom for the grandfather of Waterloo. Any further memorabilia of the Castle Dangan family are not recorded, except that in 1485 (which surely was the year of Bosworth Field?) they began to omit the de, and to write themselves Wellesley tout court. From indolence, I presume; for a certain Lady Di. le Fleming, whom once I knew, a Howard by birth, who had condescended so far as to marry a simple baronet (Sir Michael le Fleming), told me, when a widow, as her rea

else, between you and me, reader, nube is not the right word, unless when the Austrian throne-winner happened to be a princess. Nube could not be applied to a man, as an old dusty pentameter will assist the reader in remembering:

"Uxorem duco; nubit at illa mihi."

"Four hundred and thirty-five"-but now (1858), on republication of this paper, hard upon four hundred and forty-seven years.