356 NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 



Bill" on the Agricultural Interest, and that it could never rise again 

 under its grinding operation. This pamphlet having* been twice reviewed 

 in the British Farmer's Magazine, attracted the notice of Sir John, who 

 wrote me a note from Brown's hotel. Palace-yard, London, dated June 

 9, 1831, highly expressive of his approbation of it. But, alas ! the sea- 

 son for seeing this extraordinary character had passed by. The lamp of 

 life was then glimmering faintly ; and although there were no indications 

 of disease, there was a languor in his speech and action that showed his 

 race was nearly run. But what a race has it been? From a short me- 

 moir of him in Fraser's Magazine, February, 1836, and other accounts 

 published of him in newspapers, it appears to have been for nothing less 

 than the prize of immortality, having, (to use his own words,) " with the 

 exception of great conquerors and legislators, made himself more uni- 

 versally celebrated in all quarters of the globe, than any other man of 

 modern times," — perhaps he might have added of ancient ones. 



After breakfasting with him at his house in George-street, I spent an 

 hour one morning very agreeably with Sir John Sinclair, in his study, at 

 the expiration of wnich he put into my hand a bundle of small pamphlets 

 written by himself; also the portraits of eight persons who had attained 

 extreme age, which illustrate his work on health and longevity ; and the 

 autographs of no less than thirty-five great men of all nations — princes, 

 presidents, nobles, ministers, ambassadors, and agriculturists. All these 

 now lie before me. The pamphlets, in addition to a general knowledge 

 of the subjects, show the zeal with which they were composed — especially 

 the one on the currency question, prefaced by a prayer. The portraits 

 inform us of one sad truth, namely — that the older we get, the plainer 

 we get; and the autographs, that the higher we are bred the worse we 

 write, for the only name of the whole lot that we could read, as we run. 



