Lord Melbourne, imitating the example of the ancient philosophers, is
employing the last days of his political existence in composing a learned
discourse "On the Shortness of Ministerial Life." To try the effect of it,
his lordship gives a _full dress_ dinner-party, immediately after the
meeting of Parliament, to several of his friends. On the removal of the
cloth, he will read the essay, and then the Queen's intended speech, in
which she civilly gives his lordship leave to provide himself with another
_place_. Where, in the whole range of history, could we meet with a similar
instance of magnanimity? Where, with such a noble picture--of a great soul
rising superior to adversity? Seneca in the bath, uttering moral
apophthegms with his dying breath--Socrates jesting over his bowl of
hemlock juice--were great creatures--immense minds; but Lord Melbourne
reading his own dismissal to his friends--after dinner, too!--over his
first glass of wine--leaves them at an immeasurable distance. Oh! that we
had the power of poor Wilkie! what a picture we could make of such a
subject.
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