of the Manager—some counterpart of whom in Shakespear's time, probably enabled the poet to seize that forcible idea—
Man's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage.
And then is heard no more.—
The rest of the Board, we cannot doubt, however they might incline this way or that, would have disavowed any participation in so aggravating and useless a stretch of power; why then did they not check this audacity, so much in want of a bridle?—is a question that immediately occurs. It is evident they were responsible (but, as it has happened, to posterity only) for the conduct of the individual, to whom they had delegated their authority, or by whom it was assumed on a sufferance not ascertained, but consonant to the opposition he continued to manifest after he had lost his seat at the Board of Longitude.
The Earl of Morton[1] was not now living, but
- ↑ It is almost superfluous to say, that the Author is not acquainted directly, or indirectly with the respected nobleman, or his connexions, who inherits the title and estates of the Earldom of Morton, and who he presumes will readily admit, as an abstract proposition, that in all lengthened genealogies, fools and wrongheads may be looked for, as well as wise and clever men: which must have been Addison's opinion, when he gave us the portraits in the gallery at Coverley Hall. In the strictures adverted to, there is no more intention to annoy the present representative of the family than the publishers of Swift's private letters, edited by Dr. Hawksworth, had to
