It is not our intention here
to write a panegyric on a royal Duke; like his brothers, York and
Clarence - the pleasure-loving, he, too, had his foibles; he was not an
anchorite by any means.
His stern, Spartan idea of discipline may have
been overstretched, and blind adherence to routine in his daily habits
may have justly invited the lash of ridicule. What is pretended here,
and that, without fear of contradiction, is that his faults, which
were those of a man, were loudly proclaimed, while his spirit of
justice, of benevolence and generosity was unknown, unrecognized,
except by a few. No stronger record can be opposed to the traducers of
the memory of Edward, Duke of Kent, than his voluminous correspondence
with Col. DeSalaberry and brothers, from 1791 to 1815 - recently,
through the kindness of the DeSalaberry family, laid before the public
by the late Dr. W. J. Anderson, of Quebec.
The Duke had not been lucky in the way of biographers. The Rev.
Erskine Neale, who wrote his life, is less a biographer than a
panegyrist, and his book, if, instead of much fulsome praise, it
contained a fuller account - especially of the early career of his
hero - of the Duke's sayings and doings in Gibraltar, Quebec and
Halifax, it would certainly prove more valuable, much more complete.
Singularly enough, Neale, disposes in about three lines, of the years
the Duke spent in Quebec, though, as proved by his correspondence,
those years were anything but barren.
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