"Whoever is so
happy, either from his natural disposition, or his good judgment,
constantly to observe St. Paul's precept, 'to speak evil of no one' will
certainly acquire the love and esteem of the whole community of which he
is a member. But such a man is the _rara avis in terris_; and, among all
my acquaintance, I have known only one person to whom I can with truth
assign this character. The person I mean is the present Lord Pitsligo of
Scotland. I not only never heard this gentleman speak an ill word of any
man living, but I always observed him ready to defend any other person
who was ill spoken of in his company. If the person accused were of his
acquaintance, my Lord Pitsligo would always find something good to say
of him as a counterpoise. If he were a stranger, and quite unknown to
him, my lord would urge in his defence the general corruption of
manners, and the frailties and infirmities of human nature.
"It is no wonder that such an excellent man, who, besides, is a polite
scholar, and has many other great and good qualities, should be
universally admired and beloved--insomuch, that I persuade myself he has
not one enemy in the world. At least, to this general esteem and
affection for his person, his preservation must be owing; for since his
attainder he has never removed far from his own house, protected by men
of different principles, and unsought for and unmolested by government."
To which eulogy it might be added, by those who have the good fortune to
know his representatives, that the virtues here acknowledged seem
hereditary in the family of Pitsligo.
The venerable old nobleman was permitted to remain without molestation
at the residence of his son, during the latter years of an existence
protracted to the extreme verge of human life. And so, says the author
of his memoirs, "In this happy frame of mind,--calm and full of
hope,--the saintly man continued to the last, with his reason unclouded,
able to study his favourite volume, enjoying the comforts of friendship,
and delighting in the consolations of religion, till he gently 'fell
asleep in Jesus.' He died on the 21st of December, 1762, in the
eighty-fifth year of his age; and to his surviving friends the
recollection of the misfortunes which had accompanied him through his
long life was painfully awakened even in the closing scene of his mortal
career--as his son had the mortification to be indebted to a stranger,
now the proprietor of his ancient i
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