father has read and we have laughed over him, to hear him spoken of as
a living existence, by one who had known him. Still, I have always had
a quarrel with Sidney, for the wicked use to which he put his wit, in
abusing good old Dr. Carey, and the missionaries in India; nay, in
some places he even stooped to be spiteful and vulgar. I could not
help, therefore, saying, when Macaulay observed that he had the most
agreeable wit of any literary man of his acquaintance, "Well, it was
very agreeable, but it could not have been very agreeable to the
people who came under the edge of it," and instanced his treatment of
Dr. Carey. Some others who were present seemed to feel warmly on this
subject, too, and Macaulay said,--

"Ah, well, Sidney repented of that, afterwards." He seemed to cling to
his memory, and to turn from every fault to his joviality, as a thing
he could not enough delight to remember.

Truly, wit, like charity, covers a multitude of sins. A man who has
the faculty of raising a laugh in this sad, earnest world is
remembered with indulgence and complacency, always.

There were several other persons of note present at this breakfast,
whose conversation I had not an opportunity of hearing, as they sat at
a distance from me. There was Lord Glenelg, brother of Sir Robert
Grant, governor of Bombay, whose beautiful hymns have rendered him
familiar in America. The favorite one, commencing "When gathering
clouds around I view," was from his pen. Lord Glenelg, formerly Sir
Charles Grant, himself has been the author of several pieces of
poetry, which were in their time quite popular.

The historian Hallam was also present, whose Constitutional History,