Such are some of the details which relate to the domestic troubles of the aged Duchess. Her frequent absence from her children when they were young; the absorbing nature of political pursuits, for which she sacrificed the blessings of affection, and the enjoyment of a peaceful home; the consequent necessity of consigning her children wholly to instructors and servants; perhaps, too, the manners of the times, which conduced to banish love between parent and child by a harsh, unnatural substitution of fear as the principle of conduct;* all contributed to alienate those young minds from her, whilst yet the angry passions which maturity draws forth were unknown. Consistency, impartiality, and a freedom from selfishness, are the qualities essential to win back the filial affection of which nature has implanted the germ in every bosom if, unhappily, it be destroyed. The Duchess was not only totally deficient in these attributes, but she possessed not that easy and kindly temper which can secure affection, even if it fail to command respect. In her family, notwithstanding all their advantages of person and fortune, she was singularly un

Those who have read the novels of Richardson, faithful delineations of manners, cannot but recal to mind the descriptions given of parental authority, and of filial fear, by that prolix, but, in some points, incomparable novelist.

fortunate; and she affords a striking instance of the incompatibility of a political career with the habits and feelings of domestic life. It cannot be, therefore, a matter of surprise that her latter days were clouded by depression; that she found herself neglected, and that she hovered between a state of irritated pride, and that condition of low spirits in which we fancy ourselves of no importance to the world, and as well out of it as cumbering the ground. Often, describing herself as generally very "ill and very infirm," she declares that life has ceased to have any charms for her; that she only wishes "to make the passage out of it as easily as possible." To her correspondent, Mr. Scrope, from whom she declares she received more civility than she had met with for years, the Duchess partially discloses her feelings. He seems kindly, and we hope with no interested motive, to have entered into the feelings of a morose old woman, who had placed all her felicity in a consciousness of importance, and who found herself insignificant."* A few short years previously, and who would have anticipated such a confession? Yet the mortifications of an unhonoured old age appear, if we may trust Mr. Scrope's charitable version of the case, to have improved the chastened character on whose tenderest points * Coxe MSS., vol. iv.

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they bore. In reply to one of her low-spirited letters, he thus addresses her: "I hope your grace will excuse the freedom with which I write, and that you will pardon my observing, by the latter part of your letter, that the great Duchess of Marlborough is not always exempted from the vapours. How your grace could think yourself insignificant, I cannot imagine. You can despise your enemies, (if any such you have;) you can laugh at fools who have authority only in their own imaginations; and your grace hath not only the power, but a pleasure in doing good to every one who is honoured with your friendship or compassion. Who can be more insignificant?" And he concludes this well-meant expostulation with professions of respect and regard.

CHAPTER XVI.

The Duchess of Marlborough's friends and contemporaries -Arthur Maynwaring-Dr. Hare-Sir Samuel GarthPope-Lady Mary Wortley Montague-Colley Cibber— Anecdote of Mrs. Oldfield; of Sir Richard Steele.

THERE must have been, undoubtedly, some attaching, as well as admirable qualities in the Duchess of Marlborough, when we consider the number and quality of those friends whom she found it possible to retain until their death; for most of them she survived.

The Duchess's earliest political friend, Lord Godolphin, was never, as far as we can learn, replaced in her confidence and regard by any man in power. Shortly before his lordship's death, she had the misfortune to lose another intimate, though humbler friend, her accomplished correspondent, Arthur Maynwaring.

Mr. Maynwaring, like the Duke and Duchess themselves, had set out in life a zealous Jacobite.

VOL. II.

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Early in life he had even exercised his pen in favour of King James's government; and it was only after becoming acquainted with the chiefs of the Whig party, that he wholly changed his opinions. After mingling for some years in the literary society of Paris, Maynwaring, returning to London, was made one of the commissioners of Customs, and afterwards, by Lord Godolphin, appointed auditor of the Imprests, a place worth two thousand pounds per annum during a presure of business. Thus provided for, Mr. Maynwaring became the firm and confidential friend of the Duke and Duchess, and of Godolphin; and his judicious advice was often resorted to by his illustrious friends. In return for his zeal and friendship, those by whom he was so much valued, sought to turn him from a disgraceful and unfortunate connexion, into which Maynwaring's literary and dramatic tastes had involved him. This was a connexion with the celebrated Mrs. Oldfield, to whom he became attached when he was upwards of forty, and whom he loved, says his biographer, "with a passion that could not have been stronger, had it been both his and her first love." This gifted actress owed much of her celebrity to the instructions of Maynwaring, who wrote several epilogues and prologues for her benefits, hearing her recite them