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THE TORNADO.-AN AFRICAN SKETCH.

BY THOMAS PRINGLE.

Dost thou love to list the rushing
Of the tempest in its might?
Dost thou love to see the gushing
Of the torrent at its height?
Come then forth, before the gloaming
Deepens into darkest night,
While the troubled sea is foaming
In its wild phosphoric light.
Lo! the long-unopened fountains
Of the clouds have burst at last;
And the echoes of the mountains
Lift their sounding voices fast:
Now, a thousand rills are pouring
Down their clamorous waterfalls,
And the wrathful stream is roaring
High above its rocky walls.
Now the forest trees are shaking,
Like bullrushes in the gale;
Now the folded flocks are quaking
'Neath the battering of the hail.
From the jungle-cumbered river

Comes a growl along the ground,
And the cattle start and shiver-

For they know full well the sound.
Now the sea-fowl, wildly screaming,
Seeks the shelter of the land;
And a signal-light is gleaming
Where yon vessel nears the strand:
Just at sunset she was lying

All becalmed upon the main ;
Now, with sails in tatters flying,
She to windward beats-in vain.

I can hear the tempest flapping
His exulting wings aloud,
And their hands the demons clapping
In the sulphurous thunder-cloud!
By the fire-flaucht's gleamy flashing,
On the reef that ship I spy,
With the billows o'er her dashing—
Hark! (oh God!) that fearful cry!

Full five hundred human voices

In that shriek came on the blast!
Now the tempest-fiend rejoices,
For all earthly aid is past:
Lo, the surf, like smoke, is showering
O'er the cliffs that sea-ward frown,-
Which the greedy gulph, devouring,
Like dark Hades, sucks them down!

OUR EARLY PATRIOTS.

SIR JOHN ELIOT.

IN commencing this series of our early patriots with the name of John Pym, I selected a man whose honesty and integrity of purpose, and firm independence of mind, has been admitted by all writers. His experience in parliamentary affairs, his knowledge of the constitution and laws, and his long life, devoted unremittingly to the best interests of his countrymen, seemed to claim their earliest attention. I am now about to speak of one, who, engaged with that eminent citizen in asserting and defending the civil rights of Englishmen, fell the first martyr to that pre-eminent cause. His early exit from the troubled scene of his glorious exertions, seems to have left his memory a prey to calumny; nor have writers been wanting to question, by plain implication, the merit of his patriotism. But it will not be difficult to prove that through his whole life, though it was indeed diversified by strange incidents and agitated by turbulent passions, none was more honest, more brave, more generously attached to his country, than Sir John Eliot.

Anthony Wood tells us that "John Eliot was a Cornishman born and an Esquire's son." His family, however, it appears* were of very ancient Devonshire descent, and had only settled in Cornwall a short time previous to the period of his birth, which was in the year 1592. They purchased in that county the Priory of St. Germains and its lands, from the family of Champernowne,† and these estates, which were of very considerable extent, subsequently descended to the patriot, under the name of Port Eliot, which they bear to this day. In the year 1607," Mr. Eliot," as he was then styled, became a gentleman commoner of Exeter college; but left the university without a degree, after a residence of three years. § That his time, however, was not misspent at that venerable seat of learning, he afterwards sufficiently proved; he had stored his mind with those treasures of thought and language, which the classics alone afford,-his eloquence was grounded on those exquisite models which the ancients have left us,-and in the habitual contemplation of the writings of their great philosophers, which he indulged at that early day, he provided for himself the enjoyment of those sublime reveries, which, at a later period, were his consolation in a dungeon. His studies appear to have been interrupted at this time by his aspiration to the honour of serving his country in parliament, and as the knowledge of the common law of England was then considered a very essential part of education for that high duty, he probably left the university abruptly to engage in the more drudging study of the law. Anthony Wood, that "he went to one of the inns of court, and was made a Barrister." We learn from

Before he offered himself, however, to represent his native county, he was induced, by a strange fatality, to visit the continent. While travelling there, he met with the celebrated Villiers, at that time a private gentleman, remarkable only for his bold address and sprightliness of temper,-afterwards the permanent favourite of two sovereigns, the spoilt child of fortune, grasping with his insatiable hand the whole power of the kingdom. The young courtier was then in many respects similar, in disposition and manners, to the young patriot; and, at that early time, the errors and infirmities of both seemed to spring from a too generous quality of nature. Both of the same age, endowed

Prince's Worthies of Devon.

The present Earl St. Germains derives a large portion of his extensive possessions in Cornwall, from the great patriot, of whom he is the lineal descendant. + Carew's Survey of Cornwall.

Ath. Oxon.

with strong passions, and an ardent temper; equally impatient of restraint or opposition; fearless of danger, and generally accustomed to act on some ungovernable impulse, it is not surprising that they arrested each other's regard, and that the acquaintance of Villiers and Eliot grew into a warm and intimate friendship. They travelled the continent together, and when the lapse of a few short years saw the vast and rapid fortune of Villiers, his former companion and fellow-traveller was not forgotten. In the year 1618, immediately following that which saw Villiers created Marquis of Buckingham and Lord High Admiral of England, we find Eliot knighted and made Vice Admiral of Devonshire. That these honours proceeded from Buckingham, I think cannot be doubted. The office of Vice Admiral of Devonshire is certainly connected with that of Lord High Admiral, and there is in existence a letter of Selden's, addressed from the Temple, in November, 1628, which relates to a patent of Sir John's, delivered to him in a box for the purpose of Selden's examination, whether the death of the grantor made it void. This relates to the knighthood, and the "grantor" was evidently Buckingham.

From this period," and ever after to the time of his death, Eliot was either elected a knight of his county, or a burgess for some borough therein, to serve in all parliaments; §" and though for some years his friendship with Buckingham continued, he never in any single act betrayed the sacred charge committed to him, by countenancing the abuses of the court. His enemies have in vain endeavoured, by the help of misrepresentation, to impugn his public conduct. They cannot bring forward a single vote or speech of Sir John Eliot's, through the whole of his parliamentary career, recorded or uttered against the cause of freedom. They have been more successful, however, in attacking his private life; and they have taken advantage of a painful incident in his career, to attempt to fix upon him, by dint of hardy misstatements and bold assertions, a charge of treacherous barbarity. I have already mentioned his strong passions and ardent temper, over which, indeed, in his earlier years, he could exert little or no controul. His was that spirit of love and hatred, of bitterness and enthusiasm, which "no cold medium knows," and which, as he himself afterwards touchingly said, " in nothing has allowed me to be master of myself." It was a temporary ebullition of this violent and restless spirit that gave rise to the painful incident alluded to. Among his acquaintances in his native county was a gentleman of the name of Moyle, whose estate adjoined Port Eliot, and towards whom an old family enmity still rankled in the breast of Sir John. By some means, however, which do not exactly appear, these old hereditary enemies met at the house of Mr. Moyle. Echard, who writes under the strong feelings of a personal and political enemy, tells us that" Eliot went to his house under the shew of a friendly visit," and some old dispute having been revived, he "there treacherously stabbed Moyle, while he was turning on one side to take a glass of wine to drink to him." If this account, however, be divested of its personal rancour, it will appear that Mr. Moyle used certain taunting expressions, too haughty to be borne by the proud spirit of Eliot, who, in a moment of rash and wayward passion, drew his rapier and made a pass at the old enemy of his house. Fortunately the thrust did not take fatal effect; and, with the characteristic impulse of a generous mind, Eliot hastened to make atonement. It is fortunate that a document has been preserved among some papers of Sir John, which sets at rest the violent exaggerations of Echard and others on this unfortunate accident. That document is an "apology" drawn up by Eliot himself, and evidently designed as an extenuation of his rash act: it is addressed to Mr. Moyle, and is subscribed by some of the most eminent men in Cornwall. Its humble terms do honour to the writer; he confesses that it was a hasty but unpremeditated act of violence, and speaks the better feelings of a noble mind chastised from its ungoverned passions. "I doe acknowledge I have done you

Echard.

+ Wood.

D' Israeli.

Ath. Oxon.

a greate injury"-such are the words of this apology" which I wish I had never done, and doe desire you to remit it, and I desire that all unkindnesse may be forgiven and forgotten betwixt us, and henceforwarde I shall desire and deserve your love in all friendly offices, as I hope you will mine."

Before I proceed to the maturer character and life of Sir John Eliot, when, awakened from the hurried restlessness that marked the wild dreams of his younger days, he shone forth so pre-eminently as a statesman, an orator, and a philosopher, it may be worth while to notice one circumstance which illustrates further his ardent passions and bold adventurous character at this period of his history. From a minute entered on the journals of the house of commons, it appears that before he received the honour of knighthood, he was fined 40007. by the court of wards for having run away with the daughter of Sir Daniel Norton, then under the protection of that court. His passions would seem at this period to have held a despotism over him, allowing no obstacle to stand in the way of their accomplishment. This love-match was, however, a happy one, and in the two sons who were its issue, Sir John subsequently found comfort and relief from many a weary hour.

Charles the First had now ascended the throne amidst much gloomy foreboding. Buckingham, belying the fair promise of his youth, had become in maturer manhood violent and impetuous," inflamed with a desire of revenge for injuries which he himself had committed, and animated with a love for glory which he had not talents to merit." He had acquired an invincible ascendant over the mind of the king, which he seemed to exercise in steeling him against the just demands of his people, laughing at the spirit of resistance which had shown itself in the commons, and embracing every opportunity by which he could express a contempt and disregard for them. Every free spirit in the nation had become indignant at the insolence of Buckingham, and Sir John Eliot was one of the first to fasten on him with unrelenting severity, as an enemy to the public good. Their ties of friendship had fortunately been snapped by the coldness of the minister, before this public duty was required of the patriot, though it is difficult to determine the precise time at which their intercourse ceased. It appears that so late as 1623, though Eliot had then distinguished himself in the popular cause, he addressed a letter to "my Lord Admiral," which, with others previously sent, remained unanswered, and we may imagine the effect produced on the generous and warm-hearted writer, by this haughty silence on the part of one who had once called him friend. Subsequently to this period, no intercourse took place between them; for though Lord Keeper Williams, in his abject paper of apology to the king, to disclaim all connexion" with any of the stirring men," declared, in order to indulge his hatred to Buckingham, that "Sir John Eliot, the only member that began to thrust in a complaint against me, was never out of my lord duke's chamber and bosom," that assertion is merely one of the cringing falsehoods of that learned divine. At the very period when it was so hardily asserted, Eliot was secretly appointed one of the managers of an impeachment against Buckingham, in whose false ingratitude he then had cause to rejoice, for though private feelings of friendship would never have swayed a mind like his from the performance of his public duty, yet the rude dissolution of that friendship rendered a great and arduous task less irksome. In the pampered minister of Charles, the gay George Villiers was forgotten: and all recollection of the high spirited, frank, and friendly companion, was forgotten in the contemplation of the favourite and ruler of the sovereign; a man "implacable in his hatred, feeble in his friendships;" by whom all men were "either regarded as his enemies, or dreaded soon to become such;"§ who held invested in his own person the most considerable offices of the crown, and in whose existence seemed to be involved the great

D'Israeli. + Hume.

Hacket's Scrinia Reserata.

§ Hume.

question, whether the privileges of the people were to perish or be secured for ever. Eliot buckled himself to the destruction of the minister with a terrible

earnestness.

When the first parliament of Charles assembled, all the grievances of the last reign remained yet unredressed: and such had been the uncontrolled influence exerted by Buckingham over the misguided sovereign, that hostilities, which might easily have been avoided, were persisted in against Spain, and a fresh war entered into with France, without the remotest possibility of being able to defray its enormous expenses. In their grants of supply the leaders of the commons well knew they had a forcible argument to move the sovereign— and Sir John Eliot, the "Western Knight," as Hacket quaintly calls him, rendered himself in this parliament remarkably odious to the sovereign,* by impressing on the members the necessity of voting subsidies slowly and conditionally. Two were at length granted; and Eliot, in a speech of great and fervid earnestness, implored them to pause before they yielded further to the court those irresistible arguments, which alone, he knew well, would operate on the mind of the king to procure an acknowledgment of the rights of the nation. "It is not usual," he said, " to grant subsidies twice in one parliament, and no grievances redressed-" and before conclusion he inflamed the house by some bitter allusions to Buckingham:-"I desire to know," said Eliot, levelling his blow against the minister, "whether the money designed for the Palatinate did not maintain the ships sent against Rochelle." His severe invectives exasperated the king, and within a few days parliament was abruptly dissolved in the midst of its debate, for having thrown out certain ominous hints of an impeachment against the favourite.

It soon re-assembled. The failure of the disastrous, ill-concerted and ill-conducted expedition to Cadiz, compelled Charles again to have recourse to the only regular and constitutional expedient for supply. Buckingham seemed to have an ominous foreboding at the summoning of the second parliament. He took every precautionary measure to prevent the election of the most leading members, but in vain: it was an age when the middle and lower ranks of the people partook alike of a common enthusiasm, and those in the popular cause were inaccessible to fear or favour. Sir John Eliot, against whom he particularly exerted himself, was returned member for Cornwall by an immense majority of electors,-and had scarcely seated himself in the house, ere his vehement eloquence, overflowing with embittered invective, was heard thundering against the doomed minister. Eliot has been called by an ingenious writer of our own day, "the Junius of another age," and certainly the severe and galling taunts, the awfully unsparing invectives, in which he now indulged, would seem to merit that epithet. The king, under the influence of ungovernable passion, sent an insolent message § to the House-" I must let you know," he said, “that I will not allow any of my servants to be questioned amongst you, much less such as are of eminent place, and near unto me;" but Eliot only smiled at the impotent rage of the monarch, and rising from his seat, took advantage of the excitement produced by the message, to launch out into a still more deadly attack on the duke, imbued with sentiments which every patriot panted to utter, and was delighted to hear thundered forth. "Are not honours now sold," he said, "and rendered despicable? are not judicial places sold? and do not they then sell justice again?" He then inflamed the house by his comments on the Spanish expedition, embittered by taunts against Buckingham, who had left its command to Sir Edward Cecil. "The Lord General," he said, "has the whole command both by sea and land, and can this great general think it sufficient to put in his deputy and stay at home?" In that moment of general indignation, Turner's celebrated resolutions were passed, that "common fame" was a suffi

* Oldmixon.

+ Ibid.

+ D'Israeli.

Rushworth.

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