430 Biographical Account of Lord Woodhouselee. [Dec. 



he felt he was so soon to leave, " and which he had loved so. 

 well." There was an influence in the scene which seemed to 

 renew his strength, and he returned to town, and walked up the 

 stair of his house with more vigour than he had shown for some 

 time ; but the excitement was momentary, and he had scarcely 

 entered his study, before he sank down upon the floor, without 

 a sigh or a groan. Medical assistance was immediately pro- 

 cured, but it was soon found that all assistance was vain ; and 

 Dr. Gregory arrived in time only to close his eyes, and thus io 

 give the final testimony of a friendship, which, in the last word* 

 that he wrote for the press, Lord Woodhouselee had gratefully 

 commemorated as having borne the test of nearly half a century. 

 His remains were interred in the family burial-place in the 

 Grayfriars Church-yard, beside those of his father and mother, 

 to whose memory it was then found, that his filial piety had 

 so exclusively dedicated it, that their epitaph occupied the 

 whole of the tablet, and no room was left for any inscription to 

 himself. 



I have very ill executed the melancholy task I have under- 

 taken, if it is now necessary for me to conclude this account 

 with any laboured delineation of the character of Lord Wood- 

 houselee. I am speaking to some, in whose memories his 

 virtues are written in better characters than those of words ; and 

 I am too conscious of the partiality of friendship, to trust my- 

 self to any other representation than that which his own life 

 and conduct can supply. Upon his literary character it will 

 be the province of posterity to pronounce ; and to it I willingly 

 leave to determine the rank he is to hold among the writers of 

 his country. To us in these moments, when we are again, as 

 it were, leaving his grave, there are other reflections that 

 belong ; and there are recollections of no vulgar kind that 

 arise, when we review the life of which we have seen the 

 close. 



It was a life, in its first view, of usefulness and of honour. 

 He was called to fill some of the most important offices which 

 the constitution of human society affords, — as a father of a fa- 

 mily, — a possessor of property, — a man of letters, — and a Judge 

 in the Supreme Courts of his country ; and he filled them all, 

 not only with the dignity of a man of virtue, but with the grace 

 of a man whose taste was founded upon high principles, and 

 fashioned upon exalted models. It was a life, in its second 

 view, of happiness as well as of honour : happy in all the social 

 relations which time afforded him, — in the esteem of his country, 

 — the affection of his friends, — the love and the promises of his 

 children : happy in a temper of mind which knew no ambition 

 but that of duty, and aspired to no distinction but that of doing 

 good : happier than all in those early and elevated views of 

 religion which threw their own radiance over ail the scenes of 



