W',)i?R?,',TXM9!;, Pi^ riverside, library .UNIVERSIT 3 12 0178 2 5926 •■:»: Ei^^^ 1-:; 'a-'; v: ■;- > ^ BOHN'S STANDAED LIBEAEY. BURKE'S WORKS. LITE, BT PEIOE. L'oi'7nu/i-tt A LIFE EDMUND BURKE. Sir JAMES PRIOR, F.S.A. AUTHOR OF THE UFE OF GO^,DSM^T^, ETC. LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1891. LONDON : REPRINTED FROM STEREO-PLATES BY WILLIAM CLOWES AKD SONS, LIMITgWj «TAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. TO THE EIGHT HONOUBABLS JOHN WILSON CROKER, DTC. ETC. SlE, An attempt to sketcli the life and character of one of the greatest statesmen of modern times, or perhaps of any age, may with propriety be addressed to one of his eminent countrymen ; who is himself connected with that part of Ireland where Mr. Burke spent his earlier years and also with his family ; who acquired his relish for learning in the same venerable academic retreat ; who possesses much of his taste, much of his love for the Pine Arts, much of his literary talent, and no ordinary share of his laborious devotion to public business. That it is quite worthy of a man so distinguished, I am by no means vain enough to believe. To render full justice to his various genius and acquirements, demands some of his own powers. But the design may indicate desire at least to appreciate true greatness. I am anxious therefore to render all the honours that are his due — more especially for the successful defence of those venerable institutions of our country which he so thoroughly understood and valued, and by their influence over the English people saved not only our National independence but even the semblance of freedom in Europe, in that long and fearful struggle now happily terminated. I have the honour to be. Sir, Tour most faithful, and obedient servant, JAMES PRIOE. CONTENTS. PARI Dedication ., v Advertisement to the Fifth Edition . . . • . xi Advertisement to the Second Edition .... xiii Preface .......... xvii List of the Writings of the Right Hon. E. Burl£e . . xxiii Portraits of Burke ... ... xxix CHAPTER I. Family and Birth of Burke. — The Naples. —Castletown Roche School- master.— Ballitore Anecdotes. — Studies, and Poetical Exercises at Col- '."^e. — Literary Society in Dublin. — Dramatic Notices. — First Political Writings. — Entry at the Middle Temple 1 CHAPTER n. First Impressions of London and England generally. — Excursions. — Con- templates an Attempt for the Logic Professorship of Glasgow. — Report about St. Omer. — Letter to his Father respecting a visit to America. — First avowed Publications. — Ilis Marriajire. — Idea of a Perfect Wife 32 CHAPTER III. Abridgment of English History. — Annual Register. — Acquaintance witli Dr. Johnson. — A Canon of Lichfield. — Mrs. Ann Pitt, Bishop War- burton, Hume, Lord Charlemont, Mr. Fitzherbert. — Dr. Markham's Friendship. — Mr. Gerard Hamilton. — Letter to Mr. Flood. — His Pen- sion. — Anecdote of his Humanity. — Patronises Barry. — Goldsmith 53 CHAPTER IV. Becomes Private Secretary to the Marquis of Rockingham. — The Duke of Newcastle and Gerard Hamilton. — Difficulties of Ministry. — Success in Parliament. — Dismission of Ministry. — Short Account of a short Ad- ministration. — Visit to Ireland. — Proposed for Office by the Duke of Grafton. — His Mother. — Anecdotes. — Gregories.— Pamphlet in Reply to Mr. Grirnville. — Junius. — Barry. — Garrick . . . 8i Vm : CONliiNTS. CHAPTER V. Mr. Burke and Sir William Ba^'ott.— Mr. Fox.— Letter to G. Nagle.— Puinplilet on the Discontents. — Parliamentary Business. — His Farming'. — Belief of liis being Junius. — Ottered Office in India. — Visit to France. — Character of Irish Absentees. — Letter to General Lee. — Speech of the 19th of April, 1774. — Goldsmith. — Ill-humour of Barry. — Johnson and Burke. — Election for Bristol 115 CHAPTER VI. Parliamentary Business. — Speech on American Conciliation. — Variety of his occupations. — Round llobin on Goldsmitli's Epitaph. — Proposed Secession from Parliament. — Use of a good Speech in Parliament. — Letters to the Sheritfs and two Gentlemen of Bristol. — Lettei's to Barry, Francis, Fox. — Dr. Robertson. — Speeches on the Address, and Employ- ment of the Indians. — American Independence. — Two Letters on the Trade of Ireland. — Admii-al Keppel. — Pecuniaiy means. — Irish Volun- teers 153 CHAPTER VII. Irish Affairs. — Economical Reform. — Parliamentary Reform. — Conduct during the Riots. — Intercedes for Mercy towards the Rioters. — Elocu- tion Walker. — Slave Trade. — Rejection at Bristol. — The Prince of AVales, Burke, and the Curate — Crabbe the Poet. — Anecdotes of hia Humanity and Playful Humour. — Opposed to Fox on the Repeal of the IMarrirtge Act. — Sheridan. — Shearing the Wolf. — Letter to Lord Ken- mare on Roman Catholics. — Change of Ministry. — Letter to Franklin 182 CHAPTER VIII. Appointed Paymaster General. — Wot in the Cabinet. — Death of Lord Rockingham and Change of Ministry. — Lord Shelburne. — Coalition. — Reports of the Select Committee on Bengal. — Communications on the Arts to Barry. — India Bill. — Mr. Pitt. — Mr. Burke elected Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow. — Reception in the New Parliament. — Dr. Johnson. — General Haviland and Family. — Jeu d'Esprit of Dean Marlay. — Miss Shackleton. — Anecdotes 213 CHAPTER IX. Count de Mirabeau. — Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts. — Visit to Scotland. — Impeachment of Mr. Hastings. — His Character. — Peroration on opening of the Charges. — Visit to Ireland. — Conversations with a Gentleman n London. — Mr. Hardy's Account of him. — Hannah More. — Preface to Bellendenus.— Epitaph on the Marquis of Rockingham 243 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Burke at Mr. Crewe's. — Adventure with a Poor Artist. — Dr. Brocklcsby, — Reg^ency Question. — Affairs of Hasting-s. — Miss Buruey.— Mr. Wil- berf'orce. — French Revolution.— Letters to Lord Charlemont and M. Menonville. — Rupture with Mr. Sheridan. — Mr. Mercer. — Mr. Philip Francis. — Parliamentary Business. — Mr. G. Hamilton . . 275 CHAPTER XI. ' Reflections on the Revolution in France." — Testimonies in its favour. — Translation of it by Louis XVI. — Opposed by a strong- party. — Thoma Paine. — Letter to a Member of the National Assembly. — Rupture witli Mr. Fox.— Jury Bill of 1791.— "Visit to Margate.— Print of him bj Benedetti. — Caricatures 310 CHAPTER XII. Appeal from the New to the Old Whi^s. — Reception at the Levee. — French Emigrants. — Madame deGenlis. — Mr. (afterwards Baron) Smith. — Correspondence. — AVritinjs on French Affairs, and on the Roman Catholic Claims. — Empress of Russia. — Sir Joshua Reynolds. — Par- liamentary Business. — Epistolary Communications. — Scene of the Dagg-er. — War with France. — Mr. Wiustanley . . . 346 CHAPTER XIII. Letter to the Duke of Portland on the Conduct of the Minority. — Mr. Dundas. — Remarks on the Policy of the Allies. — Epistolary Labours. — Death of Richard Burke the elder. — Report upon the Causes of the Duration of Hasting-s's Trial. — Retires from Parliament. — Junction of the Old Whigs with Ministry. — Death of Young Burke.— Dr. Laurence's Letters 376 CHAPTER XIV. Rumoured Appointment to Provostship of Trinity College, Dublin. — Grant of a Pension. — Correspondence with Smith on the Roman Catholic Question. — Recall of Earl Fitzwilliam. — Second Letter to Sir Hercules Langrishe, on the same subject. — Letter to William Elliott, Esq., on the Attack of the Duke of Norfolk in the House of Lords. — Letters to Mrs. Salisbury Haviland. — Letter to Lord Auckland, with Remarks on his Pamphlet. — Letter to Mr. Smith. — Thoughts and Details on Scarcity. — Anecdotes. — Letter to a J^oble Lord. — Correspondence with Dr. Hussey, a Roman Catholic Priest. — Folly of the cry in Ireland for Separation from England 407 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XV. Establishment of the Emigrant School at Penn.— Letter to Mr. Gahag^an. — Letters on a Regicide Peace. — His Prophetic Spirit as opposed to that of Mr. Pitt. — Letter to the Prince of Wurtemburg-. — Report concerning him. — An unprincipled Booksellei-. — Correspondence. — Visit to Bath. — Mr. AVilberforee. — Letter to JNIrs. Leadbeater. — His Illness and Death 431 CHAPTER XVI. His Person. — Manners. — Habits. — Conversational Powers and Sallies. — Private Character. — Ardour of Temper and Reputed Irritability. — Contemporary Opinions formed of him .... 463 CHAPTER XVI r. His Eloquence. — His Writings. — His leading Principles as a Statesman. — Burke, Pitt, Fox 492 ladaz .537 ADVEETISEMENT TO THE EIETH EDITION. The favour extended to this biography for many years, ua shewn by the sale of several large editions, has occasioned the demand for a new issue. In conformity with the spirit of the times, a more popular form is assumed, so as to bring the volume within the reach of that large and increasing class of readers who desire to have standard works in a port- able compass, and of others whose thirst for information on topics of general interest may exceed their means of acquiring it. With this view, the work has undergone careful revision. No abbreviation has been made in the narrative, which, on the contrary, is rendered more full by additions and references to the correspondence of its subject. Those letters only have been omitted that possess little immediate connexion with the occurrences of Burke's life, and which will find a more appropriate place in the body of his works. It is satisfactory to state, in testimony of the care with which the work was originally written, that in the many volumes of contemporary men and history since published, or in the four volumes of correspondence issued under the care of Earl Eitzwilliam and Sir Richard Bourke, no inci- dent that I have mentioned is contradicted, and no new one has been added. The sources indeed whence I drew my information, rendered the omission of any event of moment improbable. To those formerly noticed, may be added the following : The recollec- tions of Mr. Burke's niece, Mrs. Haviland, for several years an inmate of her uncle's house, as communicated bv her son ; those of Mr. Shackleton, Burke's schoolfellow, and of his daughter Mrs. Leadbeater, with both of whom frequent cor- respondence was maintained ; several others of his private friends and correspondents to whom occasional reference occurs ; while from another contemporary source, materials previously unknown were put into my hands illustrative of his studies and pursuits while in Trinity College, of which it will be seen occasional use is made. XU ADVEETISEMENT TO THE FIFTH EDITION. Altogether, these furnish evidence of early formation of character, and indicate how truly the predilections of the youth were destined to shine forth in the man. Few readers but will find interest in tracing out such a career. Personally I cannot but feel gratified at having lent my humble aid to the more just representation of his motives and character at a time when there was a disposition to throw censure upon both, by the surviving members of an angry, because discom- fited, order of politicians, who had never forgiven their overthrow on the questions connected with Revolutionary France. Nor are the anticipations in the original preface to this publication less fully verified, namely, that the miscon- structions to which he had been subjected would soon cease; that esteem no less than fame awaited him ; and that while receding from the fleeting passions and contentions of the day, he would ascend to that position among the first order of mankind, where according to the estimate of the distin- guished men of the last and of the present age, as will be seen in the sixteenth chapter of this work, he has no Buperior and scarcely an equal. Norfolk Crescknt, September, 1854. ADVEETISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION. In presenting a second and mucli enlarged edition of tliia work to the public, the writer cannot omit to express his acknowledgments for the favourable reception experienced by the first ; not only from the periodical censors of litera- ture who assume to guide public taste, but from private testimonies of approbation afforded by persons of the very first consideration and talents in the country.* Opinions which would seem to be confirmed by the sale of a large im- pression of the work in no very considerable space of time. This encouragement induced corresponding diligence on his part, to endeavour, by every available means, to add to its interest and correctness ; and the inquiry and research resorted to with this view though laborious, have not been in vain. The additional matter collected, almost the whole of which is original, adds nearly a second volume to the work, and has necessarily caused a new arrangement in many parts for its introduction in the order of time, while other passages are wholly re-written. The work may thence be considered in many parts new. This plan he conceived to be more systematic and desirable than merely to give a supplemental volume of disjointed letters, anecdotes, and fragments thrown together without such coherence as their nature and importance deserved. For the information thus received the writer is indebted to a variety of sources upon which he can place implicit re- liance. Some of these are noticed in the progress of the volumes. Several persons to whom he is obliged, think it obtrusive or unnecessary to give their names to the world upon circumstances of lighter moment in themselves, or which carry with them in substance a sufficient guarantee of authenticity. He should be ungrateful however not to avow • The late Earl of Liverpool, when Prince Minister ; Mr. Canning, when Secretary of State ; Sir Robert Peel, Sir James Mackintosh, and many others of high political position. XIT ADVERTISEMENT TO THE in a particular manner his acknowledgments to the Hon. Sir William C. Smith, Bart., F.R.S., Second Baron of the Court of Exchequer in Ireland, for the documents with which he has been obliging enough to favour him. He is likewise indebted for some contributions to the late Mr. James Goinme, F.S.A., who died shortly after they were communi- cated. But more especially his thanks are due to Thomas Haviland Burke, Esq. of Lincoln's Inn, grand nephew and nearest surviving relative to Mr. Burke, and no less near to him in the virtues of the heart than in blood, and who, from the satisfaction which the writer has derived from his per- sonal acquaintance, he must consider to require only more time and opportunities to display no inconsiderable portion of the talents of his family . He has been kind enough to supply every document and information in his power for these volumes. To advert to the criticisms passed upon the work will not be thought necessary further than to acknowledge the con- ciliatory and approving spirit in which they are generally couched. It is satisfactory also to find that the plan chalked out by the writer for himself, of touching very briefly upon the parliamentary and other great public labours of Mr. Burke, which are already embodied in the history of the country as well as in other works of general interest and of course accessible to every description of reader, has been approved. Much of the favour shewn to the author arises no doubt from the great popularity of his subject -with the best informed and reflecting order of men. But it is not to be denied, that there is in this country a considerable number of politicians, who from strong bias in judgment, or pecu- liarity of opinion upon certain constitutional points, persist in censuring the conduct of Mr. Burke for the part he took on the question of the French Eevolution, although it might be supposed that observation and the progress of events, in- dependent of aU argument, had confirmed the accuracy of his views on that matter beyond dispute. It was not therefore with much surprise that he lately (1825) saw an attempt, under cover of a criticism on his book, to maintain that Mr. Burke was so far mistaken in his assertion of there being no good likely to result from the Eevolution, that France bad at length acquired by it that SECOND EDITIOS". XV freedom for which she had so long contended. This state- ment does not fairly give his argument. He never said, or believed, that she was condemned to such a state of perpetual, irreversible slavery, that no accident in the progress of time could extricate her from it. What he really said and enforced was, that her Revolution of which she was at first so proud, contained no one principle of which a wise and good mau could approve ; that its acts, means, and purposes Avere indefensible ; and that in itself it was not likely to lead to any system of rational freedom. Experience has taught us that it did not voluntarily introduce or attempt to intro- duce, any such system. Another critical remark about France having contended for the establishment of her constitutional freedom, is so notoriously contrary to fact, that the wonder has been how perseveringly the nation struggled against it. She never, in fact, seriously set about seeking it ; neither did she by the exertion of any wisdom, talent, or intelligence of her own, win it. The freedom, or the rudiments of freedom now enjoyed, were thrust upon her. A series of fortuitous cir- cumstances which she not only did not forward, but on the contrary opposed by every means in her power, led'to the production and establishment of the Charter. That important measure, therefore, so far from being her own work, was the business of the combined armies of Europe. We may fairly question whether she ever possessed clear conceptions of the blessings of a free constitution, or under- stood anything of how it was to be introduced or managed. Eor with the example of England before her, which might be considered a sufficient guard against committing gross mistakes, she plunged every succeeding year from her first efforts deeper and deeper into error ; floundering from simple financial embarrassments into general anarchy ; from anarchy into a system of massacre and tyranny ; from this into the crude and impracticable scheme of a directory ; from a directory into a poor imitation of the consular government of ancient B,ome ; and from this pedantic folly into the next and natural stage, a grinding military despotism. In all this series of changes there was no approach to the establishment of consistent, steady, practical liberty. And at the beginning of 1814 she had neither in fact nor in appearance advanced one step nearer to obtaining it, than in 1714 or any othef XVI ADVERTISEMENT. period of her history ; nor was likely so to do, had not the wild ambition of her ruler led to his downfal and to the general change in her institutions. Consequently France has no claim to be considered her own liberator. So far from it she struggled hard to continue enslaved, and was at length only by defeat and misfortune drubbed out of her propensity for the restraints of absolute government. "While a constitutional system, the most valuable present that could possibly be made to any nation, worth more than all the conquests ever effected had she been permitted to retain them all, has been a gift from her conquerors — not her own ac- quisition. So little therefore did her revolution, with all its spolia- tions, proscriptions, terrors, massacres, and wars, for more than twenty-two years, effect for its nominal aim — that of giving freedom and security to her people. And so fully was the anticipation of Mr. Burke verified, that an event which inflicted and permitted so many evils, could scarcely, when left to itself be productive of good. PREFACE. Few things interest the curiosity of mankind more, or prove so instructive in themselves, as to trace tlie progress of a powerful mind, by the honoui\able exertion of native energies, rising amid serious obstructions and difficulties from a private condition to stations of public eminence and trust, and in its progress acquiring the power to rule, or to influence the destiny of nations. Such a person, as sprung not from the privileged few, but from among the mass of the people, we feel to be one of ourselves. Our sympathies go along with him in his career. The young imagine that it may possibly be their own case. The old, with a glance of retrospective regret, may fancy that, with a little more of the favour of fortune, it might have been theirs. And, at any rate, we are anxious to ascertain, the causes of his superiority, to treasure up his experience, to profit by what he experienced to be useful, to avoid what he found to be disadvantageous. The lesson becomes doubly instructive to that large class of society who are born to be tlie architects of their own fortune when it impresses the great truth, that natural endowments however great, receive their highest polish and power, their only secure reward, from diligent study — from continued, unwearied application — a homely faculty within the reach of all men ; one whose fruits, as they bear testimony to the industry of the possessor and intrinsic value of the possession, are above all others likely to wear well. Of the great results of such endow- ments, fostered and directed by such cultivation, we have not a more distinguished example than Edmund Burke. To an attentive reader of our political and literary history during the sixty years that are past,* no name will more fre- quently attract attention, whether w^e consider the large space he occupied in the public eye, the original genius he possessed, the diversified talents he displayed, the great events connected Avith the whole of his public life, and the alternate eulogy and abuse by which since the period of the French Revol ition, his reputation has been assailed. • This \¥a3 written in 1824. XVIU PEEFACE. Two slight accounts of this remarkable man have been written. One was a volume of slander, dictated by envenomed partyspirit andprobably meant atthe moment to answer some party purpose. The other was more just to his deserts ; but both were wholly deficient in facts, very little being stated or known of his family or early life until his con- nexion with the Marquis of Ecckingham and subse- quent entry into Parliament. Obvious as this deficiency in political biography was, accident suggested to the present writer the attempt to supply it. Contemplating his qualities natural and a^q^uired, and his career at large as extraordinary and successful, he drew up a character of him at some length in the autumn of 1819, which being thrown by for above two years without further notice, chanced when lying on his desk to come under the notice of a friend, who recom- mended that it should be enlarged and altered from the form it then bore : for that as it stood some parts would be obscure to the general reader, some liable to mistake or misapplication, and some, perhaps unintelligible if not grounded upon a memoir. This additional labour was undertaken certainly without regret. Some new materials were already in the writer's hands, and by application to various friends in England and Ireland, a variety of others, chiefly unknown to the world and of undovibted authenticity were procured. And as illustrative of his opinions, criticisms, and style of correspondence, as well of the friendly as of the more formal description, several letters have been added, little or not at all familiar to the public eye. An extended detail of his career, embracing minute ex- position of labours in Parliament, in Westminster Hall on the prosecution of Hastings, or of his published works, together with lengthened notices of American, India, French or other important public aftairs with which he was much concerned, was not deemed necessary. Judicious biography does not require this. To make such a work long, deprives it of half its interest. Besides, such labours make part of the history of the country, and would overload any private memoir beyond the time or patience of ordinary readers. K or would I forget the dictum of the eminent man whose life is here recorded " that a great book is a great evil." I have aimed therefore not to make a great book, but a compact one ; to condense within a msderate compass aU that was necessary PEEFACE. XIX to be known and which few would seek in the ponderous form of two or more quartos. The particulars of his exertions in the various scenes alluded to will be found in his works, in four volumes of speeches printed by an anonymous editor in 1816, and in specific histories of the events with whicli he was connected. Here it is only necessary to mention them in brief. The notices in explanation or illustration are chiefly drawn from himself and in his own words. s^ Great as is the reputation of this eminent man, it stands \ so far as party feelings are concerned, in rather a singular predicament. It is well known that he would not go all lengths with any body of men, and constantly declined to fall in with popular humours, of the tendency of which he had the smallest doubt. A contrary plan would have insured to him, as it did to others, a great increase of general favour ; but he was a man of no compromises excepting under the pressure of irresistible necessity, and then yielded only with a bad grace. Right, under whatever circumstances, appears to have been his predominant passion. Thus he had an utter ibhorrence of any thing resembling undue exercise of power or domination no matter from what quarter it proceeded ; and by endeavouring to preserve a certain balance of powers in the state as well as in difierent orders of the community and in the different interests, religious, political, and com- mercial of the kingdom by stepping in to the assistance of the weak against the strong, which is beyond dispute the duty of honest patriotism and sound wisdom, he incurred censure from the more violent or domineering of every class. He was assailed by the zealots of power for opposing the coercion of America, and for prosecuting Mr. Hastings ; by the zealots of freedom for opposing French Eevolution ; by zealots in religion for advocating the cause of the dissenters and Eoman Catholics ; and by zealots of various descriptions in affairs of less moment. Many reasons might be adduced why he was not always at the head of the party whose cause lie chiefly espoused ; the chief of which perhaps were, that he wanted that consequence from birth, fortune, and family cou- iiexion,7Fhich with great abilities and amiable private quahties, centred in Mr. Fox. While, therefore, the two great divisions in politics of Whig and Tory, the former more especially, have deemed it a species of allegiance to endeavour to depress his name for the purpose of exalting those of their particular leaders : 6 2 XX PBETACl!. and a more violent though a small body, known under varioua appellations have sworn ceaseless enmity for his overthrow of their doctrines during the revolutionary fever in France, no special party remained on whom devolved the obligation of upholding his fame. The old Whig connexion of which he was so long the tongue and the soul, ought to have per- formed tliis duty, but they wanted vigour, or had become merged in other parties. Depreciation and abuse from political adversaries have in consequence been suffered to remain uncontradicted. If he did not write and speak himself into repute, nobody else perhaps can do it for him ; no one else certainly has hitherto attempted it. He has been left to the buoyancy of his own merits ; to sink or swim in public opinion by intrinsic powers. " For what I have been," said he, " I put myself upon my country ; " and among the educated and dispassionate part of it he has no reason to complain of the decision. He has worked his way into general esteem, not by the applauding pens of intoxicated followers, but by more eloquent though less noisy advocates — by the slow but steady and sure evolution of national sentiment, by the living and flourishing evidences to his deserts of a constitution preserved from demolition or inroad, an unshaken tlirone, an unpolluted altar, an unplundered nobility and gentry, and the continuance of those moral ties and habitudes wliich bind together and form the safeguard of the whole. Misrepresentation indeed may answer its end for a time. And were it not indicative of angry or mistaken feeling, it would be curious to observe the ignorance or prejudice re- specting the sentiments of Burke on a variety of public matters by persons who at a venture attribute to him any thing tluat happens to be unpopular at the moment — circum- stances in which he had no participation or interest, and principles which he opposed and disclaimed. In this spirit the reverend president of a political society at Liverpool not long ago stigmatised him as a deserter from the cause of parliamentary reform ; and more tlian one of the orators of civic assemblies in Loudon, amid other flying reproaches just as mucli founded in truth, repeated the. accusation. At two or three county meetings held some time back, he was spoken of as a sinecure placeman and enemy to liberty. At a large book estabhshment ni London, on inquiring for a volume in wliich it was said there was something concerning PEEFACE. XX\ him, " a satire, sir, I suppose," was the reply ; as if satire was the legitimate coin with which his puhlic labours deserved to be repaid. In a private company of that consideration in society in which I least expected to hear observations thrown out of an illiberal or untrue description, his motives in t!ie impeachment of Hastings were sharply arraigned by some members of what is called the Indian interest, though on being pushed for facts, none of the party could assign any thing like an improper motive. In another company, less select but of some consideration, he was admitted to be a most surprising man, but unhappily opposed to the refor- mation of all abuses in government. In a third he was an ingenious and able writer, but too jlowery in his style, lu a fourth, his political conduct was said to be regulated by regard merely to his own interests. In a fifth, probably from the want of some better handle for censure, it was gravely urged as a drawback upon his fame, that he originally possessed no private property; nay that he was humble enough to receive the profits of his literary labours, and that at length he accepted of a pension ; — so that, by this ingenious argument the original sin charged against him of want of fortune was not permitted to be remedied, either by tlie fair exertion of those talents with which Providence had endowed him or by public gratitude. All these circumstances came lately under the eye and ear of the writer. They are samples of what is heard every day in the ill-read, or ill-considered remarks of such as have not taken the trouble to be better informed ; and are only worthy of notice as coming occa- sionally from persons who assume a lead in conversation, and who would have felt not a little indignant at being told, what was nevertheless fact, that they were disseminating untruths or nonsense. Another order of persons, of more influence and infor- mation, chiefly of the class of public writers, who have in view to exalt another great political name, that of Mr. Fox, think it necessary for this purpose to lower, though indirectly and circuitously, the reputation of Burke. From these we hear of him frequently as a man of great genius, of many acquirements, of brilliant fancy, and amusing talents ; keeping out of view, as if unknown, those more useful and profound qualities which constitute his chief claims to distinction. Sometimes again, he is what they are pleased Xxii PEEFACE. to term a philosophical politician, meaning by this to imply something different from a practical statesman. Sometimes lie is even admitted to be the greatest writer of the age, while little allusion is made to that parliamentary eloquence which made his name as an orator more celebrated on the continent of Europe, while still a member of the House of Commons, than those of his great rivals, and which enabled him to take the lead many years in that assembly, added to receiving the then (1774) unusual honour of an invitation to represent, free of expense, one of the chief cities of the kingdom. Occasionally hints are dropped of how much better his genius would have been exerted in many other ways than in politics — what a brilliant career for instance, he woidd have run as Professor in a University — or similar sphere of exertion. Such opinions are merely idle. Fitted no doubt to excel in any thing to which a large, an acute, and vigorous mind was applied, we need not speculate on what he might have been, but render honour to the singular ability displayed in the station he actually filled. For that post nature and inclination had fitted him by an early bias toward the consideration of public affairs, large acquisitions of the necessary knowledge, and striking facility in giving utterance to the opinions formed ; while there is little doubt that more of the strength of his mind was put forth by the contentions inseparable from polities than could have been effected by any other species of discussion. But if he has left behind in the track of life deliberately adopted, more materials for fame than either of his contemporaries or pre- decessors, namely the finest orations in the English language, the ablest political disquisitions, the introduction or support of a series of important constitutional measures for nearly thirty years together, and a reputation perhaps above any other for practical wisdom, not resting on opinion of the moment but on record in his speeches and writings ; — surely it savours of trifling to say that he would have succeeded better in any other pursuit. It is time that this species of warfare against his fame should cease. No man indeed intunately conversant with public affairs has been misled by it, as the debates in Parlia- ment almost every night of every session testify ; but it has served its turn pretty eftectually among that multitude of persons who are less acquainted with such matters, and who PEEFACE. XXIU Buspecting no sinister views, take for granted what is said without undergoing the labour of inquiring for themselves. Should the present attempt enable any of these to appreciate more justly the powers or character of one to whom this country is under deep obligations, the writer will not deem his labour misapplied. His testimony at least is impartial. He has no party purposes to answer ; no influence to court ; no interest to push ; excepting that common interest felt by every generous mind, of rendering to a distinguished and virtuous character those honours which are its due. List of the chief Writings of the Eight Hon. Edmund Burke, arranged, as nearly as possible, in Chronological Order, ana with Reference to the Volumes of his works (8i'o. edit.) in which they may be found. It may be necessary to observe, that the speeches, and notes of speeches, enumerated in the following catalogue, are such only as have a place in his works published by his executors. Four volumes of speeches, most of them not inserted in his AVorks, have been collected, and given to the world by a ditferent Editor ; and though necessainly im- perfect, as being taken from casual and unauthorized reports when reporting was at a low ebb, they are px'obably the best that can now be procured. The letters specified in this enumeration are all upon public affairs ; some of them published soon after being written, some not ; and the greater number forming pamphlets of considerable size. The pieces marked thus (**) are likewise not included in hia Works, though no doubt is entertained of their authenticity. POETET. **Translation of an Idyllium of Theocritus about 1744. **Several Scenes of a Play, on the Subject of Alfred the Great ibid. •*Ballitore, a short Poem 1754. XXiV LIST OF WRITIIS'GS OF EDJSIUND BTTllKE. Id what Vol ccn'.ained. **Llnes on the River Blackwater . . . 174;5. **Traiislation of the concluding Portion of the 2nd Georgic of Virgil ..... 1746. **Lines to John Darner, Esq. .... 1747. **The Reformer — Periodical Paper published in Dublin 1748. **Lines to Mr. Richard Shackletou, on his Marriage . 1748. **And several shorter Pieces, still thought to be in existence. MISCELLAKEOrS. Hints for an Essay on the Drama . . about 1754. x Vindication of Natural Society . . . . 1756. i Philosopliical Inquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful . . . 1756. i **An Account of the European Settlements in America, 2 vols. Svo. .... 1757. Essay towards an Abridgment of English History, from the Invasion of Julius Caesar to the End of the Reign of King John . . 1757 X **Annual Register — at first the whole Work, afterwards only the Historical Article . 1758, &c. Fragments of a Tract (75 octavo pages) on the Popery Laws in Ireland .... 1761. ix Short Account of a late Short Administration . 1766. il **Humorous Reply to the preceding, signed Whittington, a Tallow Chandler, of Cateaton- street ; and Ship News for 1765 — both be- lieved to be Mr. Burke's .... 1766. Observations on a late Publication, intituled the Present State of the Nation . . . 1769. ii Thoughts on the Cause of the present Discontents 1773. ii **Idea of a Perfect Wife 1770. Notes of a Speech on the Middlesex Election, Eeb. 1771. X a Bill for explaining the Powers of Juries in Prosecutions for Libel March 177 L x Letters on the same Subject for the Newspapers 1770, x Notes of a Speech on the Acts of Uniformity Feb. 1772. x LIST OF WRITINGS OF EDMUND BUBKE. Notes of a Speech on a Bill to quiet the Posses- sions of the Subject against Dormant Claims of the Church Feb. 1772. for the Eelief of certain Pro- testant Dissenters ..... 1773. on a Bill for shortening: the In what Vol. contained. 1773. IX 1774. li 1774. III 1775. 111 1777. IX 1777. III 1777. IX 1778. Duration of Parliament .... 1773. Letter on the Irish Absentee Tax, to Sir Charles Bingham ...... Oct. Speech on American Taxation . , . April Speeches at Bristol ..... Nov. Speech on American Conciliation . March Letter to the Marquis of Rockingham, on the proposed Secession from Parliament of Members who opposed the American War Jan. 1777. ix Address to the King — Address to the British Colonists in North America ; both on the same Subject ...... Letter to the Sherifis of Bristol . April Letter to the Hon. C. J. Fox, on Political aftairs Oct. **Epitaph on Mr. Dowdeswell .... Two letters to Gentlemen at Bristol, on Bills relative to the Trade of Ireland April & INIay 1778. iil Letter to the Eight Hon. Edmund Pery, Speaker to the Irish House of Commons, on a Bill for the Eelief of the Eoman Catholics of Ireland July 1778. ix Letter to Thomas Burgh, Esq., in vindication of the Author's Parliamentary Conduct relative to the Affairs of Ireland . . . Jan. 1780. ix Speech on Economical Eeform . . . Eeb. 1780. iii Letter to John Merlott, Esq., on the Affairs of Ireland Aprd 1780. ix Letter to the Chairman of the Buckinghamshire Meeting for procuring Parliamentary Re- form Aprd 1780. IX Sketch of a Code of Laws for the Eegulation of the Slave Trade, and the Government of the Negroes in the West India Islands . 1780. ii XXVl LIST OF WEITIKGS OF EDMUND BTTRKE. In wliat Vol contained. Letters and Eeflections on the Execution of the Eioters July 1780. ix Speeches at Bristol Sept. 1780. iii ISotes of a Speech on the Marriage Act . June 1781. x Letter to Lord Kenmare on the Penal Laws against the Eoman Catholics of Ireland !Feb. 1782. vi Notes of a Speech on a Motion for Eeform in the Eepresentation of the Commons . May 1782. x Ninth Eeport from a Committee of the House of Commons, on the Administration of Justice in the Provinces of Bengal, Bahar, and Orissa June 1783. xi Eleventh Report from the same ; both intended probably to pave the way for the India Bill 1783. xi **Letter to James Barry, Esq., Professor of Painting, Eoyal Academy, on the Subject of his Pictures, exhibiting in the Great Eoom of the Society of Arts . . August 1783. Speech on the East India Bill . . . Dec. 1783. iv Eepresentation to his Majesty moved June 14, 1784. iv **Epitaph on Sir George Savile, Bart. . . 1784. Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts . Eeb. 1785. iv Articles of Charge of High Crimes and Misde- meanours against Warren Hastings, Esq., late Governor-General of Bengal April 1786. xi & xii **Epitaph upon, or Character of, the Marquis of Eoekingham 1787. Speeches on the opening of the Impeachment of Mr. Hastings, February 15tb, IGth, 17th, and 19th, occupying about four hours each day 1788. xiil Speeches on the Sixth Article of Charge, April 21st, 25th, May 5th, and 7th . 1789. xiii & xiv **A variety of Letters and Papers (public) on the Eegency Question . . . 1781, 1789. **Letter to Mr. Pitt (as from His Eoyal Highness the Prince of Wales), on the Subject of the Eegency ...... Jan. 1789. **Letter to Mr. Montague, on the Subject of the Impeachment of Mr. Hastings . April 1789. **Letters to M. Menonville, on the French Eevolution ..... Oct. 1789. LIST or WBITI5GS OF EDMUXB BLllKE. xXVll In wl)at V'oli contained. Substance of a SpeecTi on the Array Estimates, Feb. 1790. V •*Letter to Thomas Mercer, Esq., on the Subject of the French Revolution . . . Feb. 1790. Reflections on the Revolution in France . Oct. 1790. r ** Character of Henry IV. of France . Jan. 1791. Letter to a Member of the National Assembly Jan. 1791. \i Hints for a Memorial to M. Montmorin Feb. 1791. tii Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs July 1791. Ti Letter to the Empress of Russia . Nov. 1791. ix Thoughts on French Affairs . . Dec. 1791. vii Letter to Sir Hercules Langrishe, Bart. M.P. on tljc Subject of the Roman Catholics of Ireland ..... Jan. 1 792. n **Character of Sir Joshua Reynolds . Feb. 1792. Notes of a Speech on the Unitarian Peti- tion May 1792. x ** Appeal to Public Benevolence in Favour of the Destitute French Clergy . . Sept. 1792. Heads for Consideration on the Present State of Afl:airs Nov. 1792. vii Letter to Richard Burke, Esq. (his son), on the Subject of the Popery Laws of Ireland 1793. ix Observations on the Character of the Minority in the last Session of Parliament August 1793. vii Remarks on the Policy of the Allies . Oct. 1793. tii Preface to a Translation of the Address of M. Brissot to his Constituents . . . 1794. tii Report from the Committee appointed to in- spect the Lords' Journals relative to their Proceeding on the Trial of Warren Hast- ings, Esq. — Ordered on the 5th and 17th of March ; and this important and elabo- rate Paper, of nearly 200 octavo pages, was produced by Mr. Burke 30th April 1794. XIY Continuation of Speeches on the Impeachment of Mr. Hastings : — Reply . . 1794. XV & iVI Letters to AVilliam Smith, Esq. M.P. (now one of the Barons of the Court of Exchequer XIVlll LIST OF WEITIKGS OF EDMUND BUEKE. in Ireland), on the Subject of tlae Popery Laws ..... Jan. 1795. ix Second Letter to Sir Hercules Langrishe. Bart, on the same Subject . May 1795. ix Letter to William Elliott, Esq. occasioned by a Speech in the House of Lords by the *** of *** (Duke of Norfolk) . May 1795. Yii Letter to the Eight Hon. Lord Auckland Oct. 1795. ix Thoughts and Details on Scarcity . Nov. 1795. vii Letter to a Noble Lord (Earl Eitzwilliam), on the Attacks made upon him (Mr. Burke), and his Pension, in the House of Lords, by the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Lauderdale ...... 1796. viii Three Letters on a Regicide Peace . . 1796. viii Fourth Letter on the same Subject . . 1797. ix Letter on the Affairs of Ireland . • . 1797. ix PORTEAITS OF BTJEKE. Allusion has been made, (pages 345, 465), to portraits c.' Burke. Of these there are several in existence equally original, and of various shades of merit and resemblance. Our first information on the subject is from himself. Writing to Barry in 1774, during the temporary misunder- standing alluded to in page 146 when engaged on his portrait, he says — " I have been painted in my life five times ; twice in little and three times in large. The late Mr. Spencer, and the late Mr. Sifson* painted the miniatures. Mr. Wor- lidge and Sir Joshua painted the rest. * * A picture of me is now painting for Mr. Thrale by Sir Joshua." — Of the three in large thus mentioned, two are understood to be by Sir Joshua, one executed as I learn through Mr. Cotton, wlio possesses the President's papers, in 1766. That for Thrale was purchased by the late Mr. Richard Sharpe at Madame Piozzi's sale for 240 guineas, and is now in possession of Mrs. Drummond of Hyde Park Gardens. A fourth was painted by Sir Joshua in 1775, a present by him, it is said, to Mrs. Burke, by whom it was left to JEarl Fitzwilliam, and now ornaments AVentworth House. A fifth from the pencil of the same artist, an undoubted original, is now at Drayton, as Sir Robert Peel informs me. Others, probably copies of more or less merit among which Mr. Haviland Burke has a good one, are said to exist in several quartex's, upon which such as are like myself, not conversant -R-ith Art and the distinguishing touch of artists, hesitate to ofler decided opinions. An interesting three-quarter length is at Lady Kerrison's, The Wick, Richmond Hill, bearing in tlie comer the words — " Edra. Burke, Esq. ^t. 48. JR. Pect." The history of the picture is unknown, but Lord Mahon, to whom I have to express my thanks for the trouble taken in several inquiries connected Avith this portion of ray subject, says it was purchased with the house. Another I am informed is in possession of Archdeacon Burney, at Wickham Bishop. The portrait finished by Barry, in 1774 for Dr. Brocklesby is now, or was recently, the property of Dr. Young, his * For this ;,'entlfmiin he enteitaiiied more thnn common reg;iird, and lived vvitli him during early resiilt'iice in London ou very iiitimuie terms. tXX P0RTEAIT8. nephew, formerly well known in the scientific world. He is likewise introduced by the same master in the fifth picture, "The Society," in the great room of the Society of Arts. In 1775 the then Duke of Eichmond requested him to sit to Eomney " for a head." I am informed by the present Duke through the medium of a friend, that there is no such por- trait at Goodwood, and therefore some accidental cause may have prevented its execution. A portrait, however, was painted by Eomney, when or for whom is uncertain, of which I possess a good engraving. It is unlike those of Sir Joshua, the countenance of marked character, and conveys the im- pression of an older man than he was in 1775, if the Duke's order had been then really executed. A portrait of him likewise exists at EJnole, believed by Lord Amherst in a communication with which I have been favoured, to be the work of Opie. Bearing general resem- blance to the others, the countenance is perhaps more severe, and it is obviously on personal examination by a diftereut hand from any of the preceding. The best engravings are by Watson, first published in 1770, and again in 1771, from tlie portrait by Sir Joshua in 1766, — by Hardy in 1780 from Thrale's picture, — by J. Jones iu 1790 from Eomney' s picture ; — and by Benedetti in 1791 as previously mentioned, from the portrait by Sir Joshua painted in 1775. In addition to these I possess fourteen others in small ; some are alleged to be " taken from life," when he was advanced in years ; some bear so little resem- blance as to give the idea of being merely fanciful ; and several of the number Mere executed for periodical works. The bust by Hickey, and a group by Sir E. K. Porter, have b^en likewise engraved. CHAPTEE I. Family and Birth of Mr. Burke— The Nagles— Castletown Roche Schot.l- master— Ballitore — Anecdotes— Studies, and Political Exercises at College — Poetry — Literary Society in Dublin — First Political AVritings — Entry at the Middle Temple. Edmund Bueke, the most distinguished statesman perhaps of an age fertile in extraordinary men, and in genius and acquirements the greatest whom Ireland has produced, was descended from a respectable family long settled in the county of Galway.* Thence it removed to the county of Limerick, and once, according to some accounts, had posses- sion of a small estate there, which became forfeited during one of those civil convulsions that have so often caused pro- perty to exchange possessors in that country. This took place some time in the troubled period between IGll and 1653, The Burkes, or Bourkes, now thickly strewn over the whole of Ireland particularly the southern part of it, were not an aboriginal, or, as then termed, a mere Lish family ; but descended from the Norman Burghs, or De Burghs, (of which Burke ia a corruption,) who went thither as adven- turers under Strongbow, in the reign of Henry II. and took root in this promising soil. An ancestor of Mr. Burke is said to have been Mayor of Limerick in 1646, when occupied by a native militaiy force, which seeming disinclined to receive either the par- liamentary army, or that under the Marquis of Ormond who aimed at securing it for Charles I. in whose interest tho Irish army professed to be, the Mayor exerted himself vigoroiisly in favour of the royal cause. A popular riot ensued, instigated by the intrigues of the Papal JS'uncio, who, though professing devotion to the same cause, had * The late Earl of Clanricarde, John Smyth de Burg'i, (a Gahvay family) frequently addressed Mr. Burke as " Cousin." B Z LIFE or BURKE. some otlier ambitious purposes to answer ; and Burke was not only roughly handled, but lost much of his property, was deposed from his office and imprisoned, his place being filled by a monk, who led on the rioters. The great-grandfather of Edmund, possessing some pro- perty in the county of Cork, refilled thither, and subsequently settled near the village of Castletown Eoche. This spot stands about four or five miles from Donneraile, five or sis ft'om MaUow, and nearly about the same distance from the ruined old castle of Kilcolman, the residence, for a consider- able time, of the poet Spenser, where he wrote the whole or the greater part of the " Fairy Queen." This property con- tinuing in or being repurchased by the Eurke family, came into tlie possession of Edmund in 1765 ou the death of his elder brother Garret, who died on the 27th April in that year, and lies buried on the spot. It Avas sold by him in 1792 or 1793 for something less Ihan ^£1000. The annmd value at that period was under £300, but of late it has pro- duced above £700 per annum. His father Richard Burke, or Bourke,* as it was often indiscriminately spelt, was a Protestant, and educated for an attorney. Bemoving from Limerick to Dublin he took a house in Bachelor's Walk, then on Arran Quay, after- wards on Ormond Quay, and soon obtaining extensive practice, continued for several years in the first rank of his profession in that city. At an early period, he had become attached to a juvenile acquaintance, a Miss Nagle, of the respectable family of that name still existing near Castle- town Eoche, and descended from the Attorney General to James II. To this lady he was married, at Mallow, about the year 1725 or 1726, and by her became the father of fourteen or fifteen children, all of whom died young, except- ing Garret, Edmund, Eichard, and a daughter named Juliana, baptized in 1728. t She married Mr. French, a gentleman * ]\Iimy families still use the latter orthography, particularly that of the Earls of Mayo, the founder of which, also a Richard Bourke and LL.D. died in 1727. t Tlie following: is a copy of the Church Register, Castletown Roche Parish, diocese of Cloyne : — " Juliana, daug-hter of Richard and Mary Purke, baptized 1728. — God- father Edw. Fitton. — God-mothers Mary Duumorth, Mary Nayler." 1730. HIS FAMILY. 3 of respectability in the county of Galway, and possessed no ordinary talents. In the words of a gentleman (a member Df the Irish Bar), who knew her long and intimately, to the writer, " Mrs. French, had nature destined her for the other 5ex, would have been as great an orator as her brother Edmund. In her conversation there was so much of ele- gance as well as of ability, that I often remarked it would have been difficult to transpose a word to advantage." Edu- cated in the faith of her mother, as is commonly the case with girls in Ireland where the parents are of different re- ligious persuasions, she was a rigid Eoman Catholic, ex- emplary in her duties, and kind and charitable to her poorer neighbours. On Christmas Day, in every year, she was accustomed to invite the halt, maimed, blind, and distressed of every description in the vicinity to a plentiful repast, at which she waited on them herself. Garret, who followed his father's profession and was well known in Dublin as a man of wit and drollery, died un- married. Eichard, who became equally distinguished in London as a wit, a politician, a writer, and a lawyer, in which latter capacity Lord Mansfield had formed and expressed to several members of the bar, the highest opinion of him, and of whom some notices will hereaftei" occur, likewise died unmarried. The issue of Mrs. French alone survive in the children of the late Thomas Havi- land Burke, who are therefore sole representatives oi the family.* AVith the descendants of the late Mr. Jolui Nugent, Mrs. Burke's brother, a remote relationship to Mr. Burke by blood, as stated by that family, also exists ; he having married Miss Lucy Nagle, daughter of Mr. Garret Kagle, of Moneamyny and Ballydufl", in Cork, first cousin on both father and mother's side to Edmund Burke. It is worthy of remark, that Sylvanus Spenser, elder son of the poet, married Ellen Nagle, elder daughter of Mr. David Nagle, ancestor of the gentleman just mentioned, and great aunt to Edmund Burke's mother. Marriage therefore re- motely connected these two celebrated names. • A sti-anf?e story is told in Gait's Life of West, of the painter meeting with a monk named Burke, bearing- some resemblance to Edmund. This, f true, could be only accidental. None of the family or its earliest con« oectiona knew any other tiiau the three brothers. 4j LIFE OF BUEKE. For his maternal relations, among wlioni many of hia juvenile days were spent, Edmnntl always preserved a warm regard ; and as several were devoted to various departments of the public service, advanced their interests as opportunity ]jerniitted. Among these was the late Admiral, Sir Edmund Nagle ; who spending much of his time at Beaconsfield in the intervals of sea-duty, amused his celebrated kinsman with naval anecdotes and aftairs, in A^hich the latter took so much interest, as to liave acquired a large stock of nautical terms, often applied with great efiect in his speeches and writings ; while in return the young sailor received warm applause for several instances of gallant conduct. One of these Mr. Burke dwelt upon with peculiar delight to his friends ; remarking that in ancient Eome it would have obtained a laurel crown for the courage displayed. A perso]], it seems, had accidentally fallen overboard from a ship at sea in which Mr. Nagle was embarked, who finding he was in danger from a shark, whicli had just before been seen near the ship, immediately sprung into the water to rescue him, and happily succeeded. This circumstance being much talked of at the time, the King (George III ) heard of it, and Mr. Nagle being pointed out to him, he entered into conversation, paying many compliments to his gallantry. "It was a hazardous attempt. Captain. Nagle," observed the King. " I never thouglit of the hazard, please your Majesty." " But do you think you would run such a risk again. Captain IS'agle ?" " Please your Majesty, I would go to h — 11 at any time to serve a friend," replied the plain-spoken seaman. Edmund Burke was born in the house on Arran Quay, January 1, 0. S. 1730. Some have thought it to be 17 28, from the entiy in Trinity College Matriculation book ; but as the former was stated by his family, and the age sixty- eight is noted on the tablet to his memory, we have perhaps no right to disturb his own or their belief. Those who ai'e fond of tracing coincidences will not fail to remark, that, like his great contemporaries Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt, he \\as a second son. It has likewise been generally believed that he inherited only a younger son's patrimony, and that in London previous to his entrance into Parliament, he waa wholly dependent on his pen for the means of suppoi t. Such 1730-41. EAELT INSTETTCT0E3. ;^ ■was not quit? the case. The integrity and reputation of his father enabled him, after living in affluence, and educating his children in a suitable manner, to leave them at his death a considerable provision. Burke himself, whose statement I have seen, Amtiug in 17G6, thus says to Mr. Shackleton, " The tact is, that my father never did practise in the country, but always in the superior courts : that he was for many years not only in the first rank, but the very first man of his profession in point of practice and credit ; until by giving way to splenetic humours, he did in a manner volun- tarily contract his practice ; and yet after some heavy losses by the banks, and living creditably for near forty years (one time pretty expensively), laying out something on Dick's establishment and on my education in the Temple (a thousand poiuids or thereabout for me), he died worth very near six thousand pounds. This I mention, as poverty is the greatest imputation (very unjustly I think) that is ever laid on that professiun." Yery little is known of his early years, except his being of a delicate constitution, tending, as was believed, to con- sumption. The most troublesome symptom of the com- plaint was a pain in the side, which disabled him from taking the same degree of boyish exercise as his brothers. When they therefore were at play, he was commonly seen reclining at ease perusing a book. To this Richard Burke alluded, when being found in a reverie shortly after an extraordinary display of powers in the House of Commons by his brother, and questioned by Malone as to the cause — " I have been wondering," said he, "how JSTed has contrived to monopolize all the talents of the family ; but then again, I remember when we loere at pJay he ivas always at ivor/c." His delicate state of liealth rendering necessary a longer stay than is customary under the paternal roof, he was first taught to read by his mother, a woman of cultivated under- standinir. An elderlv ladv in the neitrlibourhood is likewise said to have lent aid in imparting instruction to tins great master of the powers of the English language ; but this is not unusual. Women are the first instructors of us all. For his mother he ever entertained strong affection —and what man of genius or feeling does not ? In a juvenile letter (1746) he thus writes of her illness : — " In all my life I 6 LIFE or BtTBER. never felt so lieavy a grief: nor really did I well know what it was before. You may well believe this when I tell you that for three days together we expected her death every moment." The air of the country, however, being deemed essential to give vigour to his frame, he was removed from the metropolis to tlie liouse of his grandfather at Castletown Eoche. Here for the first time he was put to school : and tlie ruins of the school-room, or what is said to have been such, may be still traditionally pointed out to those who take an interest in prying into those early haunts which the subsequent development of great genius serves to elevate into celebrity. His progress in knowledge, however, was not very considerable, his relatives, from motives of kind- ness, directing attention more to what was likely to im- prove his health than to inform his mind. Still he was not idle. The village schoolmaster, whose name was O'Hal- loran, and wlio lived to an advanced age, was known to one or two of the older inhabitants living there many years ago, who remembered him in their youth as boasting upon all occasions that he was the first who had put a Latin gi'ammar into the hands of Edmund Burke. Another of this old man's stories, of the truth of which, from the known benevolence of heart of the pupil, as well as from the circumstantiality with which it was told by the master, there was no reason to doubt, related to the time of Edmund going thither to look after his property in 176G. Divested of the circumlocution common to the lower classes in Ireland, it was in substance this : — Hearing that his boy, as he called him, who had got into parliament, was come to look at the place, he thought he would just step up to the house to see whether he woidd remember his poor master. Doubtful of the reception he should meet from a great man, he recognized him dressing in a room over the door of the house (long since in ruins), and the boy as quickly re- membered his old master's face. Eunning quickly down stairs, his shirt collar open, his beard half shaven, lie seized him eagerly by both hands, " asked all about me, and about the little boys his school-fellows, and said you must stay all day with me, O'Hallorau, and gossip about old times ; — • and sure enough I did ; — but was this all do you suppose ? 1730-41. BALLITORE SCHOOL. 7 Jso, to be sure it ^vas not; — didn't he put five golden guineas into my hand as I was coming away ?" The gentleman to whom this anecdote was related,* in the course of other inquiries in the neighbourhood, asked a cottager, in order to try il" the name was familiar among this class of people, w^hether he knew anything of a noted man called Burke who once lived in that quarter ? " To be sure I do," was the reply, " Hasn't every body heard of Edmund Burke ?" At CastletowTi Eoche he spent a considerable time, so much it is believed as five years ; and the partiality Avhich he always entertained for the spot in talking of it in his domestic circle, added to his long residence, and familiarity with the neighbouring objects, particularly Spenser's ruined castle, gave rise to the belief among many intimate friends of his having been born there. It was countenanced also by a poem which he wrote at college on the river Blackwater. running to Youghall Bay, through the counties of Cork and Waterford, near to the spot where he resided, and into ■which falls the Molla or Midla, a stream immortalized by the author of the Fairy Queen. Several other places in Ireland have equally, though incorrectly, contended for the honour of his birth, such as Athlone ; Limerick ; Thurles in the county of Tipperary ; the county of Carlow adjoining to Kildare ; and the vicinity of Lismore. Eumours of this description arise from that unhappy neglect which Ireland too often exhibits towards her eminent men ; and in part to Mr. Burke himself, who never willingly obtruded his name into the magazines or newspapers of the day. From CastletoAvn Eoche he Avas removed to Dublin, and is said to have continued about a year at school in Smithfield in that city, kept b}^ a Mr. James Fitzgerald, when the reputation of the classical academy at Ballitore, and the improvement of his health, further impaired by rapid groAvth, induced his father to send him thither. This village lies in the county of Kildare, twenty-eight miles to the southward of Dublin, in a valley through which runs the small river Griese. The site was purchased early in the last century by two of the Society of Friends, John • From Mr. llaviland Burke. 8 XTPE or BUEKE. Barcroffc and Amos Strettel, as a species of colony for its members. A seliool of a superior class being required among this intelligent community, an honest and learned QuaJver, Abraham Shackleton, was invited from Yorkshire, in 1726, to conduct it, whose capacity and diligence soon spread the r(^putation of the establishment over much of the southern and eastern parts of Ireland, by turning out from it several eminent men. It was continued by his son Eichard Shackleton ; by his grandson Abraham, who died in 1818 ; both men of superior original minds, and some poetical powers; and still exists with undiminished reputation imder members of the same family. To this school Edmund, then in his twelfth year, along with his brothers Garret and Hichard, Avas removed the 26th May, 1741. It has been observed by Dr. Johnson, that the early years of distinguished men, when minutely traced, furnish evidence of the same vigour or originality of mind by which they are celebrated in after-life. Such was certainly the case with young Burke. His habits, as Shackleton said, indicated more of solidity than commonly belongs to that period of life. His powers appeared not so much in brilliancy, as in steadiness of application, facility of comprehension, and strength of memory ; indications wdiich drew the commendation first, and, as his powers unfolded themselves, soon the warm regard of his master, under whose paternal care, the im- provement of his health kept pace with that of his mind. The grateful pupil never forgot his obligations. Among his schoolfellows were l)r. Brocklesby, the ])hysician, afterwards so well known in the literary circles of London ; the Eev. Micliael Kearney, brother to one of the Bishops of Ossory, a modest and ingenious man, of great literary acquirements, who died in 1814 at an advanced age ; Tliomas Bushe, father of the Irish Judge of that name. Among others of equal talents, though filling inferior stations in life, was a Mr. Matthew Smith, a country schoolmaster, who possessed his esteem, and with whom he corresponded. Another, a Mr. Zouch, who was still less fortunate in life, he kept for some years domesticated in his establishment at Beaconsfield, partly as amanuensis, partly as steward, and whom he tried repeatedly to push forward in the worlfl. Dr. Sleigh, an eminent physician of Cork, the friend M 1741. BALLITOEE SCHOOL. 9 Goldsmitli in more than one season of adversity, and the first friend of Barry, the painter, did not come to the school till Burke had quitted it ; but they met in London afterwards, and became intimately acquainted, the latter frequently saying, "he knew few more ingenious and valuable men." But his chief favourite and friend was Eichard Shackleton, the only son of his master and his successor in the school, with whom a lively epistolary correspondence was kept up during the remainder of his life, to which I have had access. INIuch of its earlier portion applies to their studies and literary pursuits, and confers credit on both. Burke when advanced in fame, paid him visits in his journies to Ireland. Shackleton when he came to England, ever found the most cordial and affectionate attention from tlie now distinguished statesman, and could seldom remain long enough for the gratification of his friend. No attachment could be stronger or more honourable to both ; and the politician confessed to tears on the receipt of intelligence of his death. This gentleman, being often questioned diu'ing his life as to the boyish peculiarities of the great Burke, seemed to feel much interest in recounting them. The following is an extract from his written account ; and being three or four years older was fully competent to form an opinion. . " Edmund was a lad of most promising genius ; of an inquisitive and speculative cast of mind. This was im- proved in hiin by a constitutional indisposition that pre- vented him from sufiering by those secessions from study which are the consequence of puerile diversions. He read much while a boy, and accumulated a stock of learning of great variety. His memory was extensive ; his judgment early ripe. He would find in his own mind in reasoning and communing with himself such a fund of entertainment that he seemed not at all to regret his hoiu's of solitude. Yet he was aflable, free, and communicative, as ready to teach as to learn. He made the reading of the classics Lis diversion rather than his business. He was particidarly delighted with history and poetry, and while at school per- formed several exercises in the latter with a manly grace." A very favourite study, as he once confessed in the House of Commons, was the old romances, Palmerin of England and 10 LIFE or BUEEE. Don Belianis of Greece, upon which he had Tasted much valuable time. It is recorded of him while at school, that seeing a poor man pulling down his own hut near the village, and hearing that it was done by order of the parish conservator of tlie roads upon the plea of being too near the high-way, the young philanthropist exclaimed, that were he a man, and possessed of authority, the poor shoidd not thus be oppressed. Little things in children often tend to indicate, as well as to form, the mind of the future man. There was no character- istic of his subsequent life more marked, than a hatred of oppression in any form, or from any quarter. The steward of the establishment at Ballitore, who some- times became director of the school-boy sports, used to repeat this and similar anecdotes with no little pride of his acquaintance when he had risen into celebrity. He delighted in hearing of his celebrity; and when the newspapers had any thing of more than usual interest to communicate, he was quite insensible to all other claims upon attention. He was a shrewd North-of-Ireland presbyterian, named Gill, upon whom young Shachleton wrote verses, and young Burke exercised his boyish logic in learned argument ; the keen, though unlettered remarks in reply to which, gave him in their opinion some claim to the more philosophical appel- lation of Hobbes. By this name Mr. Burke used to inquire after him. The last visit he made to Ballitore, took place in 1786, after the opening of the impeachment of Hastings. The old steward, who regarded this measure as another illustration ot the humane spirit displayed by the boy, was then verging on his eightieth year, his eyes dim, his limbs feeble, and, as it proved shortly afterwards, tottering into the grave. The announcement of the name of his youthful associate inspired him •ndth momentary vigour. Mr. Burke accosted him with his accustomed kindness, shook him often and cordially by the hand, and introduced his son, who displayed equal attention to his father's humble but venerable friend. This condescension so much affected his feelings, that for some time he was deprived of utterance ; he bowed repeatedly, and at length brought out, that he was proud — very proad to see him — adding, "yoi; have many friends in Ireland, 1741-44. B\LLITOEE. IX sir." "I am liappy, Mr. Gill, that you are one of tLem. — Tou look very well. — Am I much changed since you last saw me ?" Old "William replied, after some attempt at examination, it being then evening, that he was almost too dark with age to observe ; when Mr. Burke, with character- istic aflability, took a candle and held it up to his own i'ace, to give the aged servant a better view of it ; a scene which the relator of the anecdote says, those who were present cannot easily forget.* A spirit of emulation with his friend Skackleton, and natural taste together, made young Biu"ke towards the close of his school career, if not a poet at least poetical. In a spu'it of friendly rivalry they each translated the thirteenth Idyllium of Theocritus on the death of Adonis, reported to have possessed considerable merit. Some scenes of a play on the story of King Alfred, are also attributed to him about the same time, which were lost or destroyed while on a visit to a relation residing at Ballydutf, in Tipperary. At Ballitore also he is believed to have imbibed other and more distinguished characteristics ; particularly that regard for civil and religious liberty which marked his future life. He had observed among the society of Friends, in which he was domesticated, that differences of opinion on those points made neither worse subjects nor worse men. Eefiection, and the remembrance that relatives on the side of one parent were Eoman Catholics, probably taught him to extend the same liberality of sentiment towards persons of that persua- sion, then in a depressed state. His opinions on this point are known to have been formed soon. The fact exhibits an additional proof of early maturity of mind, in possessing the power to disengage itself from those preju- dices and animosities exist.ng in Ireland between Protestant and Romanist, at a time when even among near connections, they produced an unchristian, and even hostile spirit. To this he alluded in a debate after the riots in London (June 20, 1780), on a proposal that no Papist should be permitted to educate a Protestant ; and on this occasion spoke in high terms of his preceptor. " He had been educated (he said) as a Protestant of the Church of England by a dissenter who was an honour to his sect, though that • Poems by Mary LeauDeater (late Shackleton), 1808.— Cottug^c Biogiaphy, 1822, by the same. 12 LIFE or BURKE. Beet was considered one of the purest. Under his eye he had read the Bible, morning, noon, and night, and had ever since been the happier and better man for such reading." Towards the middle of April, 1744, having been just three years at school, he quitted it, possessed of what Mr. Shackle- ton used to describe as " a large and miscellaneous stock of learning for his years." Next day he entered his name in Trinity college, as pensioner The following notice appears in the register : premising that there is a mistake as already mentioned, in his age. The academical year beginning in July, the year is really 1744, though nominally noted a year sooner ; his name also is spelt according to the orthography of the other branches of the family. . _., I Edmund, i , Bouike Pens. ros. Fil. Ric. Gene- 1743. Annum Athens 16. Natus. Dublin. Educatus I Dr. Sub. ferula | Pelis- Mii"'. Shackleton. sier. Dr. Pelissier, the tutor, is represented by high college authority as a man of ordinary acquirements, who when vice- provost in 1753, quitted the university for the valuable living of Ardstraw, in the north of Ireland. The pupil describes him in his first letter to Shackleton, as "an exceedingly good humoured, cleanly, civil fellow, one of the most learned in the university, who told me (what I would not say, except to a particular friend) that I was a good scholar — understood the authors very well, and seemed to take pleasure in them, (yet by-the-bye, I don't know how he could tell that) and that I Avas more fit for the college than three parts of my class." In a month the tutor gave him for study, " the nine first chapters of Burgersdicius, six last Jineids, Enchiridion, Tabula Cebetus, which my tutor recommends as a fine picture of human life." And in ten days more writes to the same correspondent : " Sitting at my own bureau with, oh hideous Burgersdicius ! on one hand, and your two letters on the other." Goldsmith, I have elsewhere stated, equally complained of the repulsive Burgersdicius.* Like other men subsequently distingmshed for eminence in life, he was once supposed to have made no figure at the • Life of Goldsmith, vol. 1. p. 09, 8vc. 1837. 1744, TEI>'ITT COLLEGE. DTTDLia'. 13 imiversitj. This is incorrect. He may not have obtained material distinction in a few of those studies, which were epecially honoured there at the time. But of his devotion to the great work of acquiring knowledge and of using it, whether in discussion among his fellow students, in original Avritiug, in criticism and in inviting criticism from others, or in the composition of long and clever letters stating his opinions, I have seen incontestable proofs. His intellectual activity at this period was in fact remarkable. He could write of nothing else. Study, and the fruits of study, were his only themes. All the hours Avithdrawn from these were considered nearly lost ; the cultivation of mind was with hiui not merely a duty, but an overpowering passion, which swallowed up every other. Even in this juvenile season, he regretted the usual hours given to juvenile amusements, and in October, 1744, thus writes : — " AVhat would I not give to have my spirits a little more settled. I am too giddy. This is the bane of my life : it hurries me from my studies, and I am afraid will hinder me from knowing anything thoroughly. I have a superficial knowledge of many things, but scarce the bottom of any ; so that I have no manner of right to the preference you give me in the first." In allusion to town life, he says, in November — " I am in the enemy's country ; the townsman is beset on every side ; it is here difficult to sit down and think seriously. Oh, how happy are you that live in the country. I assure you, my friend, that without the superior grace of God, I will find it very difficult to be even com- monly virtuous." Such feelings are Avell supported by the following passage — the germ of some subsequent brilliant thoughts — on " the beauty of the Heavens. I call them beauties ; for beauty consists in variety an.d uniformity, and is not that abundantly shewn in the motion and form of the heavenly bodies ? What grander idea can the mind of man form to itself than a prodigious, glorious, and fiery globe, hanging in the midst of an infinite space, and surrounded with bodies of whom our earth is scarcely anything in the comparison !" That he was not negligent of essential collegiate studies, is proved by his election to a Scholarship, 2Gth May, 1746. Tills is a great point of ambition among students, but for 14 LIFE OF BUEKE. several days he remaiued in doubt whether he should accept it. •' You may be curious to know," he writes, " what are the advantages of our scholarship. We have our commons for nothing ; fifty shillings a year in the cellar ; are members and freemen of the university, and have a vote for a Member of Parliament ; the ground rent of our chambers ; our decrements between three and four pounds per annum, forgiven ; and when Ave take our degree, have a good chance for fifteen pounds per annum more. * * * AVe were exercised for two days in aU the Greek and Eoman authors of note. Dr. Eorster, who examined me in Catiline's speech in Sallust, seemed very well pleased at my answering, and asked from whose school I came, a question 1 did not hear asked besides." I have seen one of his prize volumes for profi- ciency in classics, given in 1745. In tracking him through the College books, I find him occasionally receiving the "thanks of the House," for good attendance at lecture; and often fined for small negligences, arising no doubt from not living in College, but under the paternal roof. His favourite studies, " while spending three hours every day in the public library," as he writes at this time, were classics, liistory, philosophy, general literature, and from a speculative turn of mind, a pretty strong attachment to metaphysics ; at least so far as they go toward cleai'ing the judgment and strengthening the imderstanding, but no further. Tliis pursuit he afterwards relinquished, convinced, as he said, that it was of doubtful utility, tending neither to make men better nor happier, but rather the reverse. His opinions, both of many of our ovni and of the ancient writers, were formed at an early period ; admmng more especially those which imparted the greatest knowledge of human nature, of the springs of human motives and human actions, and an acquaintance with human manners. On this principle he was accustomed not only to observe, " that a good novel was a good book," but frequently to amuse the social fire-place, particularly in female society, by perusing a few of the more celebrated. Bacon's essays formed a favourite study, and he always characterized them as the greatest works of that great man. Shakspeare, Addison, Le Sage, Fielding, and Smollett, then a new writer, were his companions in intei'vals from gravel 1747. STUDIES AT COLLEGL. 15 studies. Eichardson, contrary to the opinion of Johnson, he tliought much inferior to Fielding as a describer of human nature. Demosthenes was his favourite orator. Phitarch's writings he professed, in a letter to a friend at this time, to admire beyond those of any other. He preferred Euripides to Sophocles among the dramatists ; and the Greek histo- rians, and Xenophon especially, to the Latin. Of Horace, Lucretius, and Yirgil, he was particularly fond ; maintaining the superiority of the ^neid as a poem over the Iliad, while he admitted the general excellence of Homer's genius in invention, force, and sublimity, over that of Virgil. All his letters prove that History and Poetry, as with most men of genius at the same time of life, were his favourite studies — one to inform and strengthen the mind, the other to elevate and refine it. Few indeed but in subsequent years have acknowledged their obligations to such instructors ; and of Dublin he says at this time — " Poetry and history are the chief branches which are taught." Among the students were a few intimates selected for their literary tastes, named Dennis, Brennan, Buck, Hamil- ton, Mohun, and two or three more- A large correspondence, now in my possession, was kept up between them and Shackleton on their favourite topics, indicative of the strongest attachment to Burke, and, though clever them- selves, respect for his superior attainments, expressed ^vith all the familiarity and jocose spirit of youth. One of their modes of improvement was the institution of a private debating club. Here their ingenuity was exercised on his- torical and poetical subjects chiefly, the records of which I have seen ; and as specimens of their proceedings, the fol- lowing to Shackleton is from the pen of Burke. Dennis however formed the principal depository of this correspon- dence. " May 28, 1747. "Scene 1. — Burke, Dennis — The Club-room — Deunis goes away about some business — Manet Burke solus. " As the Committee appointed for the trial of Dennis has just now broke up without doing any thing, for want of sufficient members, I have time enough on my hands to write what you desire — an account of the proceedings of our society since your departure; in which you have beea 16 LITE OF BUEKE. a perfect prophet, for Mohun was expelled last lustrum by th^ censor, Mr. Dennis. After an examination of his conduct from the first foundation of the society, it was found exceeding bad, without one virtue to redeem it, for which he sulTered the above senteuce. He was tried some time before (Burke, Pres.) for his bad behaviour, but behaved still worse at trial, which brought fresh punish- ments on him, and at length expulsion. This is not the only revolution in our Club. Mr. Buck's conduct much altered for the worse. We seldom see him, for which lie has not been spared. Dennis, Hamilton, and your humble — ha ! ha ! attend constantly. Cardegrif,* as we expected, middling. You all this while are uneasy to know the cause of Dennis's accusation. It is no less than an attempt to overturn this society by an insolent behaviour to the President and Society. I am the accuser, and wlien you know this you will tremble for him. I must congratulate you likewise on the censor's minor thanks which you re- ceived Avith a declaration that had you entered earlier into the society you had been entitled to the grand thanks. The censor gave himself the grand thanks, and the same to me. " We had during your absence the following debates very well handled. On the Stadtholder — Burke, an oration ; Lenity to the Kebels, a debate : Dennis for, Burke against. Prince of Orange to harangue his troops — Dennis. The sailors in a ship turning pirates — Dennis for, Burke and Hamilton against. Catiline to the Allobroges — Dennis. Greueral Huske for engaging at Falkirk — Burke ; Hawley against Dennis. Brutus the first to the Eomans — Burke. Hamilton is now President, and a very good one. You use me oddly in your letter ; you accuse me of laziness and what not (though I am likely to fill this sheet). I did not expect this from your friendship that you should think I would in your absence refuse you my company for a few lines when I attended you in town for many a mile. You behave to me just after the manner that a vile prologue I've read desires the audience to use the actors--' But if you damn, be it discreetly done ; flatter us here and damn ua when you're gone.' You see I have not lost my faculty of * Each of the members had fanciful names assigned them. 1747. STUDIES AT COLLEGE. 17 quoting Grub Street. Just so, when here you blarney me ; in the country you abuse rae; but that shall not hinder me from writing on, for (to shew you my Latin) tenet insanahile multos scribendi cacoethes. Come we now to Shar (one of their juvenile pieces) ; the beginning is dark indeed, but not quite void of connection, ' for whose good effects,' &c. con- nects with the first line ; all the rest is properly between parentheses. Phaeton sells well still (another of their pieces) ; tell me exactly what is said of his appearance in the country. Miss Cotter is quite charmed with your writings, and more of them would not be disagreeable to that party. I have myself almost finished a piece — an odd one— but you shall not see it till it comes out, if ever. Write the rest, Pantagruel, for I can stay no longer — past nine. I am now returned and no Pantagruel. Tour oration on Poverty is, I think, very good, and has in some parts very handsome touches ; you shall have the Club's opinion next time, which was deferred till we should have a full house. I received your novel aud will read it (and peruse it — ?) care- fuUy." An extract from tbe records of the " Club" is likewise given in the Eev. Mr. Todd's life of Milton. " Burke, I may observe," says that gentleman, " was an ardent admirer of Milton. I learn from Mr. Walker (ot Dublin) that this great orator was a distinguished member of a literary club instituted in Dublin in 1747, in which he sometimes held the Secretary's pen, and sometimes filled the President's cbair ; and that in the original minutes of this society, his early Miltonic taste is thus recorded — " Friday, June 5, 1747, Mr. Burke being ordered to speak the speech of Moloch, receives applause for the delivery, it being in character. Then the speech was read and criti- cised upon ; its many beauties illustrated ; the chief judged to be its conformity witli the character of Moloch — No let us rather choose, Arm'd with hell-flames and fury, all at once, O'er Heav'n's hig'h towers to force resistless way. The words ' all at once' (the metre not considered) seemed to the whole assembly to hurt the sentence by stopping the rapidity and checking the fierceness of it, laaking it too long 18 LIFE OF THITEKE. and tedious. Then was Belial's speecli read to tlie great delight of the hearers; whose opinion was, that Homer only can be compared to Milton, not only for the beauties that shine in every verse, but likewise for the just and lively colours in which each character was drawn ; for that none but Homer, like him, ever supported such spirit and exact- ness in the speeches of such a contrast and variety of per- sons." — These notices, adds the learned WTiter, "will not seem tedious ; for they suggest an opinion that the finest oratory of modei-n times might owe its origin and perfection to the poetry of Milton." From the admiration to the WTiting of poetry is a common result. He had indeed transgressed in that way previously. Of the degi'ee of proficiency attained, we have an example in the translation of part of the second Greorgic of Virgil, the panegyric on a country life, made in 1746, which as the work of a youth, may take a fair place in the rank and Sle of College verses. Oh ! happy swains ! did they know how to prize Tlie many blessing's rural life supplies; Where in safe huts from clattering arms afar. The pomp of cities and the din of war, Indulg'ent earth, to pay his labouring- hand, Pours in his arms the blessings of the land ; Calm through the valleys flows along his life, He knows no danger, as he knows no strife. What ! though no marble portals, rooms of state, Yomit the cringing torrent from his gate Though no proud purple hang his stately halls. Nor lives the breathing brass along his walls. Though the sheep clothe him without colours' aid. Nor seeks he foreign luxury from trade. Yet peace and honesty adorn his days With rural riches and a life of ease. Joyous the yell' wing iields here Ceres sees, Here blushing clusters bend the groaning trees, Here spreads the silver lake, and all around Perpetual green, and flow'rs adorn the ground. How happy too, the peaceful rustic lies, The grass his bed, his canopy the skies ; From heat retiring to the noon-tide glade, His trees protect him with an ample shade; No jarring sounds invade his settling breast, His lowing cows shall lull him into rest. Here 'mong the caves, the woods, and rocks arouud, Here, only here, the hardy youth abound; 1747. TBANSLATIOTS- lEOM THE GE0BGIC8. 19 Religion here has fixed her pure abodes, Parents are honoured, and adored the g-ods ; Departing justice, when she tied mankind, In these blest plains her footsteps left behind. Celestial Nine ! mj' only joy and care, Whese love iniiames me, and whose rites I bear. Lead me, oh lead me 1 from the vulgar throng, Clothe nature's niyst'ries in thy rapturous song ; What various forms in heav'n's broad belt appear. Whose limits bound the circle of the year, Or spread around in glitt'ring order lie, Or roll in mystic numbers through the sky ? What dims the midnight lustre of the moon ? What cause obstructs the sun's bright rays at noon ? Why haste his fiery steeds so long to lave ITieir splendid chariot in the wintry wave? Or why bring on tlie lazy moon so slow ? What love detains them in the realms below ? But if this dull, this feeble breast of mine. Can't reach such heights, or hold such truths divine, Oh ! may I seek the rural shades alone. Of half mankind unknowing and unknown, Range by the borders of the silver flood, And waste a life ingloriously good. Hail ! blooming fields, where joy unclouded reigne, Where silver Sperchius laves the yell'wing plains. Oh ! where, Taygeta, shall I hear around Lyaeus praise the Spartan virgins sound ? What god will bear me from this burning heat, In Hsemus' valley, to some cool retreat. Where oaks and laurels guard the sacred ground. And with their ample foliage shade me round ? Happy the man, who versed in Nature's laws, From known ett'ects can trace the hidden cause i Him not the terrors of the vulgar fright The vagrant forms and terrors of the night; Black and relentless fate he tramples on, And all the rout of greedy Acheron, Happy whose life the rural god approves. The guardian of his growing flocks and groves j Hai'monious Pan and old Sylvanusjoin The sister nymphs, to make his joys divine: Him not the splendours of a crown can please, Or consul's honours bribe to quit his ease. Though on his will should crowding armies wai* And su])pliant kings come suing to his gate ; No piteous objects here his peace molest, Nor can he sorrow while another's blest ; His food alone what bounteous nature yieids, Vrom bending orchards and luxuriant fields. 20 ""^^FE OF BUEKE. Pleased he accepts, nor seeks tbe mad resort Of throng'ing' clients and litig-ious court. Let one delight all dang-er's forms to brave, Rush on the sword, or plunge amid the wave, Destroy all nations with an easy mind. And make a general havoc of his kind, That on a Tyrian couch he may recline, And from a costlier goblet quaif his wine ; Another soul is buried with his store. Hourly he heaps, and hourly longs for more ; Some in the rostrum fix their sole delight. Some in the applauses of a rich third night ; While gain smiles lovely in another's eyes, Though brother's blood should buy the horrid prize Though from his country guilt should make him rci Where other nations feel another sun. The happy rustic turns the fruitful soil, And hence proceeds the year's revolving toil ; On this his country for support depends. On this his cattle, family, and friends : For this the bounteous gods reward his care, With all the product of the various year ; His youngling flocks now whiten all the plain, Now sink the furrows with the teeming grain ; Beauteous to these Pomona adds her charms, A-ud pours her fragrant treasures in his arms. From loaden boughs, the orchard's rich produce, The mellow apple, and the generous juice. Now winter's frozen hand benumbs the plain, The winter too has blessings fcr the swain : His grunting herd :s fed without his toil, His groaning presses overflow with oil; The languid autumn crown'd with yellow leaves, With bleeding fruit and golden-bearded sheaves. Her various products scatters o'er the land, And rears t)ie horn of Plenty in her hand. Nor less than these, wait his domestic life, His darling children, and his virtuous wife. The day's long absence they together mourn, Hang on his neck, and welcome his return ; The cows, departing from the joyful field. Before his door their milky tribute yield, While on the green, the frisky kids engage. With adverse horns and counterfeited rage. He too, when marked with white the festal day, Devotes his hours to rural sport and play ; Stretch'd on the green amid the jovial quire Of boon companions that surround the fire. With front enlarged he crowns the flowing bov]g And calls thee, Bacchus, to inspire his soul; 1747. lI.Tr.E4.ET EXEECISE8. 21 Now warm'd with wine, to vigorous sports they rise ; Hiffh on an elm is hung; the victor's prize ; To him 'tis given, whose force Avith greatest speed Can wing the dart, or urge the fiery steed. Such manners made the ancient Sabines bold, Such the life led by Romulus of old ; By arts like these divine Etruria grows, From such foundations mighty Rome arose. Whose godlike fame the world's vast circuit fills, Who with one wall hath circled seven vast hills ; Such was, ere Jove began his ii'on reign, Ere mankind feasted upon oxen slain, The life that Saturn and his subjects led, Ere from the land offended justice fled ; As yet the brazen use of arms unknown. And anvils rung with scythes and shares alone. Prom tlie correspondence of the young friends they appear to have taken much interest in theatrical as well as literary topics, and allusions occur to certain contributions to the press. One of the latter was an occasional paper, " The Reformer." Dennis, writing in January, 1748, to Shackle- ton, mentions his having sent one, and asks, " What is your opinion of it ? Who do you think the author ?" Again, " Ned (Burke) is busy about the next Reformer, or he would Avrite to you." Burke says himself, Avriting in May, *' Tour father mentioned to me the Reformer, and said it had not, he believed, success. I (illegible) with four or five members being a little surprised at it, as I did not think he knew the author ; but I am satisfied he does, and I am sure it is in good hands." Sheridan and Victor at this time directed the Dublin theatre, and those gentlemen had incurred the displeasiu-e of the young critics for, perhaps among other de- merits, inattention to pieces submitted to their judgment. In November, 1747, Dennis writes, '* Ned (Burke) has finished the first canto of the Blackwater, and seen Victor, who has not read the play. Buck went to Hamlet — and such scenery ! — not to talk of performance !" Shackleton replies, " Who do you tell Victor is the author of the comedy ? If Burke would preserve any degree of good understanding with the pair he mentions, let him not slip out any high treason agamst Victor and Sheridan." These hints render it not improbable that the comedy alluded to may have been by Burke. While still in the 22 LIFE OF BTTEKE. : hands of the manager, a letter from him to Shackleton (Oct. 17, 1747) says, it will be acted after Christmas. This, pro- bably, never took place. For in May, 1748, a communication to the same friend (both in the " Club" correspondence) abuses Sheridan soundly as wanting taste, style, and common sense — " a pitiful fellow, who was never able to defend himself, and whose defenders are as weak as the cause" — language not unlikely to issue from a young and angry re- jected dramatist. The above letter of October forms other- wise a fair specimen of their usual style of correspondence. " You have so loaded me with letters and compliments that I find it very difficult to answer either, and they were unmerited as they were extraordinary, for I am neither an extraordinary correspondent nor writer, though if my writing was to be judged by its success in the inverse rule we use, it would be thought excellent. However, I must say I was by no means displeased with it, and you needed not to have desired me not to shew your last, for I should be the vainest fellow in the world if I did, I do really believe you to be my friend if any one is, for I see you can no more forbear praising me than Belinda (a yoimg lady favourite), or dis- praising Tremble. I am not such a master of the expressive part of friendship, but believe me, dear friend, I am by no means behindhand in the affectionate. This is sincere, and the only answer I can make to your (I won't say compli- ments) expressions of kindness, and I should be better })leased with your approbation of my pieces, bating the profit, than King George's. " I don't know whether I shall congratulate or lament with you on your falling in love, for I see ('tis vain for you to deny it) you are over head and ears, and what is more extraordinary, with two. The judgment and sagacity with which you have drawn the character of the ladies shew that you perfectly know them, so that any advice from me on that score were quite needless, Belinda, I am glad, has triumphed ; however, you seem to quit Julia with regret. How happy if you could have both to serve different ends of matrimony ! " I wrote to the Park before dinner, and after it went td Mr. Goddard with the money ; he is greatly obliged to you ; she looked charmingly, Dick, this evening, but I am iuseu- 1747. BFRKE TO SHACKLETOy. 23 sible to cbarms, wlien I tell you I do but perceive and not feel them, particularly when pointed by wit — ' Man delights not me, nor woman neither.' I carried her Brennan's Satyr ; she is out of patience at it, and vows could she write as well, men should stand marked for more wickedness than e'er the race could redress. I doubt whether I should send you them lest they should cool your desire for matri- mony, but by aU means let not your mistress see them, unless the one you have a mind to discard. To her, in- deed, you may present one, and 'twill affront her, I warrant. * * * " Now we are on love, &c. Do your parents forward this affair ? Are they ignorant of it ? Or are you purposely together ? I believe my friend will soon be a Paterfamilias, and then we shall in some measure lose Dick Shackleton, who wiU look with contempt on us bachelors. "Whenever it happens I pray it maybe fortunate, and so pray we all. We were together last night and did not forget you. We were rather mad than merry — but parted sober as to liquor. " When I went to Kearney, Mrs. Kearney asked me whether I was come to Levy (Levee ?) I said No ! That couple (forgive me, I say it entre nous) are very haughty. I examined Michy before them in Horace and Homer ; he performed very well, and answered his geographical ques- tions with a facility that surprised me. He did not give very good English, and I did not wade very deep with him in the grammatical part of the Greek, because as the boy was little when taken out of his depth he might be in danger — and not at all for fear that I should slip myself; so I asked only some obvious questions. How were his parents ravished to hear their boy read Greek ! " How is Cavenagh ! Poor Parker is not very ill, yet can't go out. I like prodigiously your proposals ; the thing will be improving to the boys, and I will send some mate- rials towards it, but am very little at leisure. The Black (Water?) runs about a couple of (MS. illegible) in a fortnight. What you mention about D seems at first view very practicable, but is not so. As for his mother she says that he is the only tie she has in this kingdom, else she would go and live with her relations in England ; but tuition and Usherships are harder to be got than you can well imagintj 24 LIFE Of" BUEKB. without interest, &c. which he very much wants. As for panegyrics on the fellows that would give the coup de grace to his fortunes. Sure your verses would do honour to Sappho. "Were they all as good as four of them, they would be some of the first in the tongue ; but I am surprised that you who every where else are so smooth, are not so here where it is most necessary — such are the fifth, ninth, and tenth lines, and some others. But when I found the above (MS. illegible) I had not read your similes of David and Goliath ; more just or beautifully turned I never saw — I should have said not carefuUy enough; not but they struck me moje strongly at first, but the multiplicity of matter drove them out of my head. Don't think I flatter when I say I think them excellent, as is the conclusion. What punishment will you inflict when I tell you I have constantly forgotten to carry Balbus to Mrs. Goddard, but (illegible) don't say, for before I can write again, T. A. will set that matter right. " The Comed]i will he acted before Christmas, when we will expect you, sans excuse. Mrs. Kearney said 'tother day we shall all soon see it for nothing, but I thank her for nothing. New plays are not seen for nothing ; if they were, the author would get nothing by them, than which nothing can be worse— so there's nothing for nothing. " I forget who he was that told me at the cofiee house the other night that Cullen said he and I were very great (intimate), and have often lately been merry together — I laugh just now at your penny pot drinker. When I can find Tremble I will, but I wish he may be hanged in the mean time. Who knows what Providence may have in store for him ! What has happened you after quitting Julia and Belinda has happened me in the very same manner often on such occasions. Don't you think a concave better than a spy -glass, as the latter are commonly so bad ? Fare- well, dear friend, and believe me to be yours most sincerely, " Supply the date. Edm. Btjeke." (Shackleton had accused him of seldom dating his letters.) The poem on the Blackwater, once in possession of Shackle- ton, was, with some of his earlier letters from London, borrowed by his father and never returned. Unless, there- fore, found in print in some of the smaller publications of 1747. LINES TO DAMEK. 25 that day, it is probably lost. Another piece admired and often alluded to by the "Club" remains. Shackleton writes, July, 1747, to Dennis : " Pray let your next be sheet-full, and send ' Darner' inclosed. I intend to write no more till I see that piece. Pray send it by Tuesday's post." Dennis replies only by saying, " He'll send Damer the poem." Shackleton rejoins in August, " It is needless to tell thee, Dennis, for I won't say it to Burke, that I take Damer to be the best panegyric I ever read, except Waller's, who chiefly excels in that." # * * " ^[([ ]\[ed (Burke) not be piqued that I don't expatiate in praise of his Damer, for there are certain images of the sublime in it which have dazzled my eyes so much, that like a man who has kept himself looking too long in the sun, I cannot see plain enough to pass judgment on the rest." Here are the lines thus lauded by his juvenile and too partial critics. The gentleman addressed had a taste for planting, not then common in Ireland, and is believed to have resided near Dublin: "July, 1747. " To John Damer, Esq. " The silent shade was always the retreat Of the wise few, the learned, and the g'reat ; Their shattered barks with seas tempestuous tired To this calm harbour have at length retired ; Our souls whom vanity seduced to roam, Find here their rest and recognize their home. But if from wandering- long in error's maze To tind the path of truth, be worth our praise; How rich the laurels that should grace his head, AVho never from the path of virtue strayed ; But still through all his life pursued the plan, That formed by God, seems htting most for man ; Revives in Gardens by well ordered cost, The Paradise that Adam's folly lost ! Pitying he looks on the vain world below Their airy pleasures and fantastic woe, And in his breast alone that calm shall find, So much the wish and search of human kind. The souls that unto loftiest heights would fly, Among the crowd her pinions cannot ply ; But here by her own bounds alone confined, Shews in her flight how God-like is the mind, 1*0 much to solitude does mankind owe, For all that they possess and all they know 1 26 MFE OF BURKE. Truth to the wise here every object yields, Who reaps tliat nobler harvest from the fields ; Th' air piercing pines whose lofty tops arise, Star-ward point out his mansion in the skies; When throup:h the awful g^loom inspired he roves, And Heaven's own voice instructs him in the grove© Groves by the wise were ever sacred held, God in a bush by Moses was beheld ; Or if with his we fabled Gods may name. In groves who chose to scent the sacred flame ; Who doubts Dodona's g'rove ? or does not know That whilom Nymphs in every tree did g'row ? Blest I pronounce the labours of his hand. That g-ives tne sylvan honours to our land ; Great is the task, and next to the divine, What nature left imperfect to refine ; But if in these we no such honour find, How much more great to cultivate the mind I This the Philosopher (who not betrayed By a false faith or envy to the shade) Constant in all his actions, still pursues, Aug-ments his science and extends his views; Careful each rising' folly to control. And hold a strict dominion o'er his soul ; More wide his sway in what that soul contains, Than his who o'er the world's wide empire reig'ns ! Thus tranquil in the silent g-rove or mead. Darner ! flows on the virtuous life you lead. Thus grows your wisdom with your g'rowing' day, AVhich for instruction you as fast convey. 'Tis from your precepts that these verses flow, To you the love of solitude I owe ; Injustice therefore both to you belong', Th' inspiring' subject and the inspired song'. Sure you have sworn however short their stay, That not a g'uest go unimproved away ; All states of life are equally your care, The rich your mind, the poor your fortune share ; You must have found — shall I presume to sin^ The long lost work of Juda's sapient king' ? Of trees, which treats of Cedars proud and tall. To the low Hyssop thai adorns the wall ; Else why to you are all their species known, Or why, like him, do you possess alone, The knowledge of all natures and your own. Nor when your soul shall yon bright Heaven asceodj Your numerous blessings with your presence end ; They, like your trees, which but small shoots at first. With tender head their earthly covering burst ; But stretching onward eitger for their prime, Receive new increments and strength by time j 1748. LiiTES ON shackletok's maebiaob. 2T Till crowned with daily honours they arise, Shade all the earth and vindicate the skies ; In the hlest cool shall future swains he laid, And our son's sons rejoice beneath the shade. For masts no more to Norway's coasts we'll roam, Thy firs much better will supply at home ; That when transplanted in th' unsteady sea, To every shore our riches shall convey. "Where'er they go shall propagate thy name, And India not be foreign to thy fame, Till praise, sole meed on earth to virtue given, Be closed, or silent 'mid the joys of Heaven." Among his efforts of kindness was one to assist hia fidend Dennis, afterwards a clergyman and who then also experienced his friendship— in procuring patronage from a " Countess," or lady so designated. " I designed," writes the latter, " visiting the Countess on Tuesday, but I did not go till Thursday. * * * To-day she both received my piece and retimied it, and I received it very philosophically, but that temper did not hold. * * * The Poem on her is Ned's (Burke), and I think it very pretty. But the Countess did not like paying for what her glass told her as well." " Belinda," mentioned in the previous letter, became in 1748 Mrs. Shackleton, and the event necessarily drew an epithalamium from " friend Burke." To Richard Shackleton, 07i his Marriage, When hearts are barter'd for less precious gold, And like the heart, the venal song is sold ; Each flame is dull, and but one base desire Kindles the bridal's torch and poet's fire ; The gods their violated rites forbear, The Muse flies far, and Hymen is not there. But when true love binds in his roseate bands , That rare but happy union, hearts and hands — When nought but friendship guides the poet's song, How sweet the verse ! the happy love how stroi^g ! Oh ! if the Muse, indulging my design, Should favour me, as love hasfavour'd thine, I'd challenge Pan at peril of my life, Though his Arcadia were to judge the strife. Why don't the vocal groves ring forth their joy. And lab'ring echoes all their mouths employ ? To tell his bride what sighs, what plaints they heard. While yet his growing flame's success he feai'd, ZH LIFE OF BURKE. And all his pains o'erpaid with transport now. When love exults and he enjoys his vow ? Silent ye stand — nor will bestow one lay Of all he taught to grace this happy day ; Can joy ne'er harbour in your sullen shade, Or are ye but for lovers' sorrows made ? I'll leave you then, and from the Bride's bright eye, A happier omen take which cannot lie, Of growing time, still growing in delight. Of rounds of future years all mark'd with white, Through whose bright circles, free from envious chance, Concord and love shall lead an endless dance. What is the monarch's crown, the shepherd's ease. The hero's laurel, and the poet's bays ? A load of toilsome life too dull to bear, If heav'n's indulgence did not add the fair, E'en Eden's sweets our Adam did despise. All its gay scenes could not delight his eyes, Woman God gave, and then 'twas Paradise. Another Eve and Paradise are thine, May'st thou be father of as long a line ! Your heart so fixed on her, and hers on you, As if the world afforded but the two, That to this age your constancy may prove, There yet remains on earth a j)Ower call'd love. These to my friend, in lays not vainly loud. The palm, unknowing to the giddy crowd I sung, for these demand his steady truth. And friendship growing from our earliest youth ; A nobler lay unto his sire should grow. To whose kind care my better birth I owe, Who to fah' science did my youth entice. Won from the paths of ignorance and vice. As evidence of his mode of study, of seizing upon the sub- stance of things rather than the form, and of an independence of opinion at that period new, he had previously ventured to read Shackleton a lesson in his own vocation, which has since obtained favour with others. '* Tour office of schoolmaster throws you amongst the ancient authors who are generally reputed the best, but as they are not commonly read and taught, the only use that seems to be made of them is merely to learn the language they are written in — a very strange inversion of the use of that kind of learning ! To read of things to understand words, instead of learning ■words that we may be the better enabled to profit by the excellent things which are wrapped up in them, I would therefore advise you to be less inquisitive about the gram- 1748. AUTHOHSHTP IN DUBLIW. 29 matical part of the author than you have been, not only for the above-mentioned reason, but because you will find it much the easier way of attaining the language. Tou will be pleased to consider after what manner we learn our mother tongue ; first by conversation (to which reading when the language is dead is equivalent) we come to know the signification of all words, and the manner of placing them afterwards." A list of Greek and Latin authors is then given, which he recommends for perusal in order to the complete attaimnent of these languages, with a variety of remarks too long for insertion here. In addition to the verses mentioned, he wrote a piece on Ballitore, an ode to Shackleton (1744), a few stanzas to the same friend of later date, two pieces collected by the editors of his Letters, and a few others obscurely alluded to in the Club correspondence, but not sufficiently distinct to trace. In March, 1747, he jocularly describes his studies — "taken up as passions or furors for a time — Natural Philosophy, Logic, Metaphysics, Mathematics, History — but is now entirely absorbed in the furor jweticus, which as skilful physicians assure me is as difficultly cured as a disease nearly akin to it, namely, the itch." To write and not to print would be severe infliction on any author, more especially of the younger class. He there- fore purposed to pursue the usual avenue to publicity, but for a time was deterred by the hopeless state of authorship in Dublin. " Kot ten men in the city," he writes, " would read the lines whether good or bad. The people have no sort of curiosity that way — and no wonder— for books either in prose or verse seldom enter into the conversations of people of fortune." Eventually he did print before quitting his native city, but the time or form is not remembered. The fact became known to his friend, Dr. French Laurence, no doubt from himself, by whom it was mentioned to a gentleman who once contemplated as he told me, becoming his biographer.* A letter from Dennis to Shackleton, August, 1747, says, " There is a lady of fine genius in town ■n ho is going to publish her works, and Ned's translation will be joined with it." "Who this lady was, or whether sucb publication took place, does not appear. • The late Mr. — commouly called " 'Conversation" — Sharp. 30 LIFE or BUEKE. One of his favourite poets at this time Tras "Waller — " 'Tis surprising how so much softness and so much gi'andeur could dwell in one soul !" But the great masters in the art, Sliakespeare, Spenser, Milton, and Young, claimed his chief devotion ; and passages marked by grandeur, or vigour of tliought and expression, were caught and retained for medi- tation. The descriptive truth and solemn seriousness of the author of the Night Thoughts made so deep an impres- sion that he could repeat long passages from memory ; and in a copy of the work which often formed a travelling com- panion in his youthful days, the following lines, stated to be in his handwriting, have been mentioned as written on one of the fly-leaves : — Jove clu im'd the verse old Homer sung'. But God Limself inspired Young'. Milton, as already hinted, was a still greater favourite, his daring flights and sublime conceptions on the most awful of all subjects being so much above the track, and perhaps the powers, of any other poet. He always recommended the study of him to his son, and to all his younger friends, as exhibiting the highest possible range of mind in the English language ; and to the last, quoted him frequently both in conversation and in writing. Exercises of his imagination did not, however, supersede close observation and judgment upon the serious facts of life passing before him. One of these was the number and too frequent want of due discrimination in the execution of criminals, which many years afterwards drew forth his humane interposition in England. In December, 1747, he commences a letter to Shackleton : " There was a young fellow hanged here yesterday for robbing his master of a few guineas. A few days before another was pardoned for the murder of five men. Was not that justice ?" Some time aftei-wards he is said to have first entered on political discus- sion or ridicide in reference to Mr. Henry Brooke, celebrated as the author of the " Fool of Quahty," and the tragedy of "Gustavus Vasa," which from its alleged patriotic sentiments was for a time interdicted representation. Another subject for wit, still more celebrated as a patriot, was Dr. Charles Lucas, a medical practitioner of Dublin, who commencing 1748. ElfTEY AT THE TEMPLE. 31" reformer in tlie Corporation, was obliged to fly from Ireland by a foolish vote of the Irish House of Commons, designating him "an enemy of his country." No details of Burke's papers on these local occurrences are now known. The first he satirized as Diabetes ; tlie second as Epaminondas. "When the heats engendered by the French Revolution assailed even his memory, it Avas said that he had quitted the University without a degree. This is untrue. He com- menced A.B. 23rd February, 1748, and proceeded A.M. 1751. No iiTegularities in college life have been laid to his charge. He joined a large body of students in punishing, or rather in forcing an apology on their knees in the college courts, from certain persons who had abused them for taking the part of Thomas Sheridan in the gi'eat theatrical riot in 1747 which drove him for a time from Dublin. Burke's description of the proceedings in one of his letters is minute. It appears that the Lords Justices, who govern the kingdom in the absence of the Lord-Lieutenant, gave the youthful mob, who amounted to more than one hundi'ed, well armed, and had forced open houses in order to find the offenders against their dignity, only a slight reprimand for this breach of the public peace. Shortly before this he had experienced a narrow escape fi'om death or serious injury. " As I sat in a shop under Dick's coffee house, the back house which joined it fell, and buried Pue the coffee house keeper and his wife in the ruins." And duly chronicliug more comic misadventures on the same day tells of a long chase through the streets after his hat and wig which had been blown off". From the first his destination was the Bar. In that day it formed the great aim of the young men of Ireland dis- tinguished for talents and ambition, more perhaps as an in- troduction to the House of Commons and thence to public dignities, than simply as a profitable profession or for dis- tinction in the science of jurisprudence. To his studies there is allusion in the juvenile correspondence of Shacldeton, who says, " TeU Burke if I don't get a letter from him to-morrow he shall plead no cause of mine when he is counsel ; from that day Libera nos Domine, for I believe I shall grow very litigious." On the 23rd April, 1747, his name was enrolled at tlie Middle Temple. Early in 1750 he reached London in order to keep the customary terms ; and in a letter to his Quaker 32 LIFE or BURKE. fiiend, 20th February, mentions the introduction of the Bill for the alteration of the Calendar by the Earl of Chesterfield. On the 2nd May his name appears again as entering into bond, his sureties being John Burke, Serjeant's Inn, Fleet Street, and Thomas Kelly, of the Middle Temple. Eemoval from the paternal roof probably occasioned no serious regret. His father, though a man of character and integrity, possessed an unhappy temper, which the most sensitive in the family necessarily felt the most. Several allusions to it appear in the juvenile correspondence. Deiuiis WTites, November 21, 1747 : " My dear friend Burke leads a very unhappy life from his father's temper ; and what is worse, there is no prospect of bettering it. He must not stir out at night by any means, and if he stays at home there is some new subject for abuse. There is but one bright spirit in the family, and they'd willingly destroy it. All the little oddities which are found in men of genius and are below their care, are eternal matter for railing with them. Pity him, and wish a change, is all I can do. * * * Care, I believe, wears as many sliapes as there are men, but that is the most intolerable which proceeds from want of liberty. This is my friend's case, who told me this morning he wants that jewel of life, ' Peace of mind ;' and his trouble was so great that he often forms desperate resolutions. Garret suffers equally, but is less sensible of it; for the purest spirits feel best." CHAPTER II. First Impressions of London and Eng-land p-enerally — Contemplates an Attempt for the Logic Professorship of Glasg'ow — Report about St. Omer — Letter to his Father— An Asiatic acquaintance— Idea of a Wife —First Publications. His first impressions on viewing the English metropolis are vividly expressed m. a letter to his school-fellow already mentioned, Mr. Matthew Smith. The allusions to West- minster Abbey and the House of Commons, " the chosen temples of fame," as he said on another occasion, wiU be I 1750. LETTER FROM LONDOIf. 33 esteemed by those wlio look to auguries sufBeiently remark- able. The whole is iu a peculiar degree expressive of cha- racter, tlie reflections, ingenious, just, and even profoimci like those of most of his future letters, Avhich though written ■with a flowing pen, were by many believed to be studied eompositions. " Tou'll expect some short aceoiuit of my journey to this great city. To tell you the truth, I made very few remarks as I rolled along, for my mind was occupied with many thoughts, and my eyes often filled with tears, when I reflected on all the dear friends I left behind ; yet the prospects could not fail to attract the attention of the most indiliereut : country seats sprinkled rovmd on every side, some in the modem taste, some in the style of old De Coverley Hall, all smiling on the neat but humble cottage ; every village as neat and compact as a bee-hive, resounding with the busy hum of industry ; and inns like palaces. " What a contrast to our poor country, where you'll scarce find a cottage ornamented with a chimney ! But what pleased me most of all was the progress of agriculture, my favourite study, and my favourite pursuit, if Providence had blessed me with a few paternal acres. " A description of London and its natives would fill a volume. The buildings are very fine : it may be called the sink of vice : but its hospitals and charitable institutions, whose turrets pierce the skies like so many electrical conductors, avert the wrath of Heaven. The inhabitants may be divided into two classes, the undoers and the undone ; generally so, I say, for I am persuaded there are many men of honesty, and women of virtue in every street. An Englishman is cold and distant at first ; he is very cautious even in forming an acquaintance ; he must know you well before he enters into friendship with you ; but if he does, he is not the first to dissolve that sacred bond : in short, a real Englishman is one that performs more than he promises ; in company he is rather silent, extremely prudent in his expressions, even in politics, his favourite topic. The Women are not quite so reserved ; they consult their glasses to the best advantage ; and as nature is very liberal in her gifts to their persons, and even minds, it is not easy for a young man to escape their glances, or to shut his ears to their softly flowing accents. 34 , I-lfE OF BUfiKE. " As to the state of learniug in this city, you know I have not been long enough in it to form a proper judgment of that subject. I don't think, however, there is as much respect paid to a man of letters on this side of the water as you imagine. I don't find that genius, the ' rath primrose, •which forsaken dies,' is patronized by any of the nobility, so that writers of the first talents are left to the capricious patronage of the public. Notwithstanding discouragement, literature is cultivated in a high degree. Poetry raises her enchanting voice to heaven. History arrests the wings of Time in his flight to the gulf of oblivion. Philosophy, the queen of arts, and the daughter of heaven, is daily extending her intellectual empire. Fancy sports on airy wing like a meteor on the bosom of a summer cloud ; and even Metaphysics spins her cobwebs, and catches some flies. " The House of Commons not unfrequently exhibits explosions of eloquence that rise superior to those of Greece and Eome, even in their proudest days. Tet, after aD, a man will make more by the figures of arithmetic than the figui'es of rhetoric, unless he can get into the trade wind, and then he may sail secure over Pactolean sands. As ti the stage, it is sunk, in my opinion, into the lowest degree ; 1 mean with regard to the trash that is exhibited on it ; but I don't attribute this to the taste of the audience, for when Shakspeare warbles his ' native wood-notes,' the boxes, pit, and gallery, are crowded — and the gods are true to every word, if properly winged to the heart. " Soon after my arrival in town I visited Westminster Abbey : tlie moment I entered I felt a kind of awe pervade niy mind which I cannot describe ; the very silence seemed sacred. Henry the Seventh's chapel is a very fine piece of Gothic architecture, particularly the roof; but I am told that it is exceeded by a chapel in the University of Cam- bridge. Mrs. Nightingale's monument has not been praised beyond its merit. The attitude and expression of tlie husband in endeavouring to shield his wife from the dart of death, is natural and aifecting. But I always thought that the image of death would be much better represented with an extinguished torch inverted, than with a dart. Some would imagine that all these monuments were so many monuments of folly ; -I don't tliiiik so ; wliat useful lessona of morality and soimd philosophy do they not exhibit 1751. EXCCESIOIfS IN ENGLAND. 35 When the high-bom beauty surveys her face in the polished parian, though dumb the marble, yet it tells her that it was placed to guard the remains of as fine a form, and as fair a lace as her o^^^l. They show besides how anxious we are to extend our loves and friendships beyond the grave, and to snatch as much as Ave can from oblivion — such is our natural love of immortality ; but it is here that letters obtain the noblest triumphs ; it is here that the swarthy daughters of Cadmus may hang their trophies on high ; for when all the pride of the chisel and the pomp of heraldry yield to the silent touches of time, a single line, a half-worn-out inscrip- tion, remain faitliful to their trust. Blest be the man that first introduced these strangers into our islands, and may they never want protection or merit ! I have not the least doubt that the finest poem in the English language, I mean Milton's II Penseroso, was composed in the long-resounding aisle of a mouldering cloister or ivy'd abbey. Yet after all do you know that I would rather sleep in the southern comer of a little country church-yard, than in the tomb of the Capulets. I should like, however, that my dust should mingle with kindred dust. The good old expression ' family burying- ground' has something pleasing in it, at least to me.'" During the first few years of his stay in London, the vacations were devoted to an examination of the interior of the country, and sometimes crossing to Ireland. In 1751, as already mentioned, he took his master's degree, and is believed to have made some stay in Cork. Health, as much as curiosity, formed the inducement to these excur- sions. The former continued delicate and iU adapted to severe study, though this does not seem to have relaxed his diligence in any degree towards general literature ; find that the remedial means adopted did not wholly fail of effect, we have his own testimony. Writing to Shackleton, April 5, 1751, he says, " I am much obliged to you, my good friend, for your desire of knowing my affairs. Really they are such as nothing but friendship could have any delight in knowing. My health is tolerable, thank God ; my studies too in the same degree, and my situation not disagreeable. I intend soon to be a good distance from town, in hopes of bettering all three, as well as lessening my expenses." In another letter of the 3G LIFE OF BrilKE. Bame year, dated 81st August, from Monmoutli, whither he had proceeded from Batli and Bristol, he alludes playfidly to his more juvenile writings ; hopes his present exercises (alluding to the law) may be attended with better success than his literary studies, on the ground that " though a middling poet cannot be endured, there is some quarter for a middling lawyer." To the same correspondent, September 28, 1752, dated from the house of a Mrs. Druce, Turlain, near Bradford in "Wiltshire, where, in company with William Burke, he made some stay enjoying the amusements of the country, he describes how the preceding part of the year had been employed, " Since I had your letter I have often shifted the scene. I spent part of the winter, that is, term-time, in London and part in Croydon in Surrey ; about the beginning of summer finding myself attacked with my old complaint (an affection of the chest, and a pain in the side, mentioned in the juvenile correspondence), I went once more to Bristol, and found the same benefit ; I thank Grod for it." Whether he found the law, as a profession, alien to his habits, his health incompetent to its persevering pursuit, or became weaned from it by that attachment to general litera- ture which has in so many other instances of men of genius proved irresistible, it is certain that his views soon changed. At the expiration of the usual time he was not called to the bar. In London he met many old friends, school and college acquaintance. With Dr. Brocklesby, then pushing his way as physician, he renewed his acquaintance ; and with Dr, Joseph Fenn Sleigh, already mentioned, who was finishing his studies, commenced it. Both were Quakers, and both afterwards quitted that persuasion. About the same period the late Arthur Murphy, then carrying on the Gray's Inn Journal, hearing the acquii-ements of his young countryman, Burke, loudly praised by some mutual friends, gained aa introduction to him, and on the first interview assented to the general opinion of his being a superior young man : an impression which every succeeding meeting served to increase. The diversity of his knowledge, and the force and originality of his observations, were striking. In history, politics, polite letters, and philosophy, there seemed little with which he was not familiar. His attachment to the 1752-53. CANDIDATE, FOR A GLASGOW PROFESSOESHIP. 37 .latter, '* queen of arts, and daughter of heaven," as he had called her in the letter to Smith, was so strong, that it is not • surprising he should wish to unite his interest with his taste, in the idea entertained about this time of trying for .the professorship of logic, then vacant in the University of . Grlasgow. , A principal inducement to this step was probably the , recollection that Ireland had more than once supplied the Scottish seats of learning with eminent men. Her last and greatest present to the University in question was, in the language of Dugald Stewart, "the profound and eloquent" , Dr. Francis Hutcheson. Bom in the north of Ireland and settling afterwards in Dublin, he soon became distinguished . by his wTitings as one of tlie first philosophers of his age. • A dissenter at a time when dissenters were looked upon with an evil eye, he enjoyed the friendship and protection of .Primate Boulter, Archbishop King, Bishop Synge, Lords Molesworth, Granville, and others, the most eminent in that coiuitry for virtue and talents. His fame at length drew an imatation to the University of Grlasgow in 1729, first to the : Logic, and then to the Moral Philosophy Chair ; an event of great moment in the intellectual and literary history of Scotland. His celebrity attracted a very large class from all .parts of the country. He was the immediate precursor of Adam Smith, Eeid, Beattie, Perguson, and others ; the in- 'structor of some of them, and from his celebrity, a source of •interest and emulation to all. The ingenuity and eloquence of his lectures, says the distinguished philosopher already , quoted, " contributed very powerfully to difiuse in Scotland •that taste for analytical discussion and that spirit of liberal "inquiry, to which the world is indebted for some of the most ^valuable productions of the eighteenth century." And again, .** Dr. Hutcheson, of Glasgow, by his excellent writings and •stiU more by his eloquent lectures, had diflused among a numerous race of pupils a liberality of sentiment and a refinement of taste, unknown before in this part of the island." Upon this eminent man, whose " Inquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue," is believed to have sug- gested the idea at least of the " Inquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful," our young adven- turer had his eye, in aiming at running perhaps a similar career of philosophical fame. 38 tIFE OF BURKE. Scotsmen, he understood, were no less fond of abstrao- tious in the schools, than they are of the more substantial realities of active life. To suit their taste in the former respect he laid in, in addition to an unusually ample stock of general knowledge, a large adventure in metaphysics, — no less than a refutation of the systems of his own country- man the celebrated Berkeley, and of Hume. There is also no reason to doubt, for his own words to Malone are decisive of the fact, that he had at this time sketched the outline of the essay alluded to as an additional claim to the vacant chair. This honour he failed to obtain ; under what particu- lar circvmistances is not now known. It is certain that he never proceeded to public competition ; but being in that quarter of the island, and probably hearing that the ofl&ce was to be awarded to the successful competitor in a public trial of skill, he took the resolution of contesting the palm with the Scottish literati, until informed that certain private arrangements in the university and city, rendered any such attempt hopeless. The inquiry made of Principal Taylor is satisfactory as to Burke having been a candidate, but not as to the exact date. His successful competitor was Mr. James Clow.* * Since the above was written, the writer has been favoured with the following communication from Mr. Dug-ald Stewart: — " I am very doubtful of the fact that ever Burke was a candidate for a professorship in Glasgow. I remember perfectly a conversation with Mr. (Adam) Smith on the subject, in the course of which he said that the story was extremely current, but he knew of no evidence upon which it rested ; and he suspected it took its rise entirely from an opinion which he liad expressed at Glasjjow upon the publication of Burke's book on the Sublime and Beautiful, tliat the author of that book would be a great acquisition to the College, if he would accept of a chair." This opinion, though entitled to every respect, is not decisive. The evidence is rather the other way ; for the story is not only old, but Vfus repeated three or four times in print during Mr. Burke's hfe. and on one occasion came immediately under his eye without receiving any formal contradiction, which, as it did not come under the head slander, he might have deigned to give it. Tiie name of his more successful opponent also is expressly mentioned. In sereral interviews previous to his death with the late Dr. Gillies, the historian of Greece, after many personal compli- ments and some animated encomiums on Burke, he said. — " He was once near having a chair, in my college, tliat is Glasgow." I said I had endeavoured to establish that point, but found the fact doubted both before the publication of my biography and since. " Sir, there is no doubt tipov 1he matter. I saw iiunii/ i/carn a/jo, a letter of' thanhxj'rom him, to i'rinciiiul Leechman, on the subject" This, if correct, would be decisive, 1753. EXCUESrOTTS in FEAlfCE. '80 He returned with undiminished spirit to his studies ; and to what continued to be a favourite enjoyment, occasional excursions through the country. Having extended his journey to France, it was believed by many who knew the lalsehood of the report of his having been educated at St. Omer, that he had simply visited that town. But even this is not the fact. He observed at his own table more than once, " He could not but consider it a remarkable circum- stance (in allusion to this report) that in three or four journeys he had made in France, St. Omer happened to be the chief place in the northern provinces which he had never visited previoiis to the year 1773, and this not from design, but accident." Mr. AVilkes used pleasantly to say that this rumour reminded him of the three black crows, and gave the following account of its origin. " In reply to an argument used by Burke in the House, somebody said it was only fit for a Jesuit to urge. It was clear from his accent, name, and connexions, that he was an Irishman: an Irishman, and a papist, in the opinions of some of our honest country gentlemen, were synonymous : St. Omer contained a Jesuit seminary : at this seminary many Irish priests were edu- cated : — ei'go, it was a clear case among the wise men of Gotham, tliat Biu-ke must be a Jesuit, and must have been educated at St. Omer." From the indistinct notices which can now be collected, it is said, that his curiosity was very active ; the ideal and simply beautiful being mingled with the useful ; and pictures and statues, a farm-yard, a mine, or a manufactory, were equally subjects for investigation. His more sedentary pursuits were followed with a degree of assiduity which vivacious men undervalue ; but which more sober judgments know to be a good substitute for all other talents. His application was unwearied. Unlike most persons of vivid fancy, he had good sense enough to recollect, that the most briDiant imaginations should not only have wings to fly, but legs to stand upon ; in other words, that genius, unpropped by knowledge, may serve to amuse, but will rarely be useful in the more important concerns of mankind. The desire to acquire and the drudgery of acquiring, were promoted by habits of life, which concurring testimony went brt the Doctor at his advanced age, may have confounded the electiou ol Burke aa Lord Rector with that to the Logi'j chair. 40 LIFE OF BURBK- to prove were more than commonly equable and temperate. Moderation in the pleasurable enjoyments of youth seemed so mucli a gift from nature, that at a period of life when the passions too often run riot, he was either free from vicious and irregular propensities, or possessed the next best gift of Providence, — the power to control them. His excesses were not in dissipation, but in study. He gave way to no licentious inclinations. He did not know a single game at cards ; and wine was no further a favourite than aa it contributed to social intercourse, of which he was at every period of life, with literary and scientific men, ex- tremely fond, so far as the pleasures of conviviality could be enjoyed without its excesses. He who devotes his days to the treasuring up of know- ledge, may be permitted to set apart the evenings to recrea- tion. In Dublin, as we have seen, he had become attached to the drama from its intimate relation to literature, to poetry, and to the displays it affords of human nature in various aspects. To an inhabitant of a vast metropolis like London, the theatre is almost the natural resort of a literary man ; for there even when most in search of relaxation, he may find some not unprofitable employment for the mind. By Arthur Murphy who had by this time attempted the stage as a profession, by many of the leading theatrical critics who freqiiented the Grrecian Coffee House, and by several brother Templars equally fond of dramatic amuse- ments, he was introduced to some of the principal perfor- mers. Among these was G-arrick, from whom he confessed to have profited in oratorical action and in the management of his voice, at whose table he saw many of the most dis- tinguished characters of the age, and where his talents and powers of conversation became more generally known. To Macklin also, at whose debating society which flourished for a few months in 1754, he is believed to have made his first attempt at public speaking, and whom it is said he re- commended soon after to Mr. Wedderburn then coming forward at the bar, in order to get rid of his Scottish accent. To the celebrated Mrs. (or Miss) Woffington, so well known in the aimals of the theatre for the possession of beauty, wit, vivacity, fascination of manners, and very considerable powers of mind, in fact for almost every thing but that which alone can make a woman respectable — virtue. Men 1755. LETTER TO HIS FATHEE. 41 of high rank, of learning, of wealth, of -wit, and e-ven of morals, sought her society, and at her house ho extended his Acquaintance. A.bout this period he first entertained the idea of trying his fortune in the American colonies ; a purpose not relin- quished for more than two years afterward. But at this moment finding his father to be strongly averse to the design, he surrendered his own decided conviction of its utility to a sense of filial submission, expressed in the follow- ing dutiful letter.* " Honoured Sir, " I had a letter by the last post from Mr. Nagle (his uncle), in which he tells me that he gave you my letter, and informs me at the same time of the reception which the proposal it contained met with from you and the family. I am I own surprised, and very much concerned that this proposal should prove any cause either of grief or anger to you ; certain I am that nothing ever was further from my inclination than the least intention of making it so. • " When I informed you of my design, it was not to declare any determined resolution which I had taken, but to desire your opinion on an afiair which I believed it advisable for me to engage in. This afiair seemed to me neither to be wrong in itself, nor unattended with a reasonable prospect of success. I proposed it to you, as I must and ought to propose to you any thing I think to my advantage, with a view of having your advice upon every material step I should take in it. This is what in jDrudence I ought to have done, and what every motive of duty and gratitude ought to have obliged me to do. I have nothing nearer my heart than to make you easy ; and I have no scheme or design, however reasonable it may seem to me, that I would not gladly sacrifice to your quiet and submit to your judgmeut. Tou have surely had trouble enough ^^■ith a severe disorder, with- out any addition from imeasiness at my conduct." (Here this letter, written on a sheet of foolscap, becomes unintellig'ible from part being torn away and defaced ; but bj- the few "vords which remain, • Rescued, among- several others of his letters, from a curious repository, the lining' of an old family arm-chair, by some relatives in the county of Gal way ; and transmitted to Mr. Haviland Burke, who communicated the •ri^inah to the writer. 42 LIFE or BURKE. it is apparent tliat a place of credit " iti one of the p: vinces" (of America) was vacant, wliich he had been offered; and having' consulted some persons upon the propriety of accepting- it, " they all to a man highly approved of it." The conclusion of the letter remains entire.) " I shall therefore follow your wishes, not with reluctance but with pleasure ; and really nothing has this long time chagrined me so much, as to find that the proposal of thia matter has been disagreeable to you : I ought to have a satisfaction in desiring your judgment in whatever appeared to my advantage, as this strongly did. I shall be ready to }"ield to it always, and to go to Ireland when you think proper, and the end, for which you desire I should go, can be answered. " I feel to tbe bottom of my soul for all you have this long time suft'ered from your disorder, and it grieves me deeply to think that at such a time your sufferings should be at all increased by any thing which looks ill-judged in my conduct. May Gfod make them lighter every moment, and continue to you and my mother very many very happy years, and every blessing I ought to wish you for your care, your tenderness, and your indulgence to me. I am in some trouble and anxiety about this matter; but in real truth, in all my designs I shall have nothing more at heart than to show myself to you and my mother a dutiful, affectionate, and obliged son. *' Edmund Btteke. " London, March 11, 1755." An accidental meeting in St. James's Park at this time made him the friend of a very enterprising and origiaal cha^ racter, who though a native of the East, nearly unknown in England, and consequently appearing in rather a questionable shape, presented evidences of a mind so much above hia situation as to claim countenance and protection from the generously disposed. This man, with a little more of the lavotir of fortime, might have turned out one of tlie most conspicuous, as he was one of the most adventurous, spirits of modern times. Sir AV. Jones thus writes of him (May, 1786), to Sir John Macpherson, Governor- General of India : " I have ah-eady thanked you for your attentions tc Emin, and I beg to repeat them ; many in England will be 1756. LITEUAET PUESTTITS. 43 equally thankful. He is a fine fellow ; and i.' active service should be required, he would seek nothing so much as to be placed in the most perilous edge of the battle." When Burke discovered him, he was not then, as afterward, known to the Duke of Northumberland and other men of rank and station. But he was in distress. That was enough for his new Irish friend, who, according to Erain's account, took him home to his apartments at the Pope's Head, a bookseller's near the Temple, made him his amanuensis in transcribing the supposed letter of Lord Bolingbroke and tlie treatise on the Sublime and Beautiful, told him not to despair however apparently hopeless his condition, but to put his trust in God , and seldom missed a day without seeing and consoling him. On the first meeting, Emin begged to be favoured with his name : " Sir, it is Edmuud Burke. I am a runaway son from a father, as you are." He then presented him half a guinea, saying, " Upon my honour this is what I have at present — -please to accept of it." Above thirty years after- wards, March, 1789, the patron replied to an address from him in a letter to be found in the Memoir of Sir W. Jones, in which their acquaintance is noticed. " There are many changes here of all kinds since you left us. The Duke of Nortluimberland, your friend, is dead. Mrs. Montagu is still alive, and when I see her I shall put her in mind of you. Many changes, too, of a much more striking nature have happened since you and I became ac- quainted. Who coidd have thought the day I first saw vou in St. James's Park that this kingdom would rvUe the greater part of India ? But kingdoms rise and pass away — emperors are captive and blinded — pedlars become emperors." Distinction in literature as one of his youthful and latest passions, was sought no less by that early maturity of mind of which his letters and contemporary testimony furnish evi- dence, than the natural desire of advancing his fortune and reputation. Frequent intercourse with the literary society of the metropolis would necessarily inspire the wish to test the vigour of his pen by comparing it with that of others through the usual medium of the press. The state of letters in London, to which he alludes in a previous communication, by observing that much more was to be made by the figures of arithmetic than the figures of rhetoric, does not indeed appear to have inspired any very sanguine expectations oi 44 I-IFE OF BrEKE. autliorsliip being a source of pecuniary advantage. But the disappointment experienced in the projected transatlantifc expedition, in all probability became an additional stimulus to endeavour to distinguish himself in this or some other leading department of life. His finances were narrow. The paternal allowance did not exceed one hundred pounds per annum, or occasionally a little more. Any thing additional which literature might produce would necessarily be desirable, as adding to his means of enjoyment, his little benevolences, as in the instance just mentioned of Emin, or to his informa- tion by travelling. That he had his eye early drawn to this source of income appears from a communication in the juve- nile correspondence, December 2Ji, 1747, in speaking of his friend Dennis. " Don't you think had he money to bear his charges but 'twere his best course to go to London ? I am told that a man who writes, can't miss there of getting some bread, and possibly good. I heard the other day of a gentleman who maintained himself in the study of the law by writing pamphlets in favour of the ministry." The first productions of even great writers are seldom preserved, and are perhaps seldom worth preserving. His do not seem to have escaped the general fate. There is no doubt that some were published previous to those which appear first in his works, though nothing more than vague rumour can be ascertained respecting them now. Even his poem on the Blackwater, so much applauded by his young friends, appears to be lost, his lather having borrowed it with some early letters from Loudon from Shackleton and never re- turned them. One piece was believed by Murphy to be a poem, or poetical translation from tlie Latin, which is not improbable Soon after his arrival in London he is said to have written to Ireland for anecdotes to engraft into concise accounts of Henry Brooke, whom he had assailed as a politician, but whom he found of more importance than he expected, and also of his new acquaintance Mrs. AVoffingtou. These, with the poetry in question, may possibly be traced by the more diligent collectors of the pamphlets and periodical publications of the time. The Essay on the Drama, preserved in his works, is believed to be of the same date. So also may be many of the materials collected for a woi'k on the condition of the Homan Catholics of Ireland, which are likewise among his 17o6. riXDICATION or NATUEAL SOCIETY, 4S posthumous reinains. Politics were probably not neglected"; and in criticism, for which his range of information and keen- ness of remark oftered peculiar facilities, he is supposed to have written much. His first avowed work, the " Vindication of Natural So- ciety," which came out in the spring of 1756, may be in fact termed a piece of philosophical criticism couched in the guise of serious irony. It was an octavo pamphlet of 106 pages ; and originated in an opinion generally expressed in literary society, of the style of Lord Bolingbrolve being not only the best of that time, but in itself wholly inimitable. Some iavour also was felt by a few for what were called his philo- sophical opinions which had been published in March, 1754. The design of the piece was to produce a covert mimicry both of that writer's style and principles; and particularly by pushing the latter to their ultimate residts, to force conviction on the mind of the reader of their unsoundness, by showing that the arguments employed by the Peer against religion, applied as strongly against every other institution of civilized men. His lordship's philosophy, such as it was, was the newest pattern of the day, and of course excited considerable notice as coming from a man who had made so conspicuous a figure in politics ; and whose career, after a youth spent in the stews, and a manhood in turbulence and disaffection to the government of his country, seemed appropriately ter- minated by an old age of infidelity. Accustomed to disre- gard honest and wise opinions on other' matters, he wanted courage to shew his contempt of them on this ; but at his death left to Mallet, a brother infidel, the oflice of ushering liis benevolent legacy of deism into light ; which drew from Dr. Johnson, when asked his opinion of it, the exclamation, " A scoundrel ! who spent his life in charging a popgun against Christianity; and a coward! who afraid of the report of his own gun, left half-a-crown to a hungry Scotchman to draw the trigger after his death" The imitation was so perfect as to constitute identity rather than resemblance. Lord Chesterfield, Bishop War- burton, and others, for a short time believed it genuine. Mallet went to Dodsley's, when filled with literati, pur- posely to disavow it. It was not merely the language, style, and general eloquence of the original wliich had been caught j but the whole mind of the noble author, his train of thought. i6 LIFE OF BUBKE. aud the power to enter into his conceptions, seemed to bo transfused into the pen of his imitator with a fidelity and " grace beyond the reach of art." Several able critics of the present day have expressed their admiration of it in strong terms. One of them, in a celebrated periodical work, Edin- burgh Review, alluding to this power of copying an author in all his peculiarities, says, — " In liurke's imitation of Bolingbroke (the most perfect specimen perhaps that ever will exist of the art in question) we have all the qualities which distinguish the style, or we may indeed say the genius of that noble writer, concentrated and brought before us ; so that an ordinary reader, who in perusing his genuine works merely felt himself dazzled and disappointed— delighted and wearied he coidd not tell why, is now enabled to form a definite and precise conception of the causes of those opposite sensations — and to trace to the nobleness of the diction, and the inaccuracy of the reasoning — the boldness of the propositions, and the rash- ness of the inductions — the magnificence of the pretensions, and tlie feebleness of the performance, those contradictory judgments with the confused result of which he had been perplexed in his study of the original." This tract was re- printed in 1765. Mr. Burke used to mention at his table, that the first Lord Lyttleton told him that Lord Boling- broke never committed any of his works to paper himself, but invariably dictated to a secretary. This accounted for the tautology and repetitions so common in his wTitings. In company he was fluent and eloquent, speaking, or rather dictating to his hearers with an air of authority more re- sembling the formal harangue of the House of Commons than the usual tone of conversation, and seldom allowing himselt to be interrupted or contradicted. A few months afterwards, in the same year, appeared " A Pliilosophical Inquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautitul." Of this celebrated work, familiar to men of liberal education, and one of occasional re- ference in our universities, little more need be said than that it is perfectly original in the execution and design. Longinus indeed had wTitten on the sublime, and Addison partially on gi-andeur and beauty ; but neither of them pro- foundly nor distinctly. They exemplity and illustrate rather than analyie or dive to the sources of those imprejisious on 1756. TKE SUBLIME AND BEAUTirUL. 47 the mind ; and they even confound the sublime with the beautiful )u many occasions. But this work marks the line between them so distinctly that they cannot well be mis- taken ; he investigates the constituents and appearances of each scientifically, and illustrates his views with great happi- ness. Johnson considered it a model of true philosophical criticism. Blair, who praises its originality and ingenuity, has profited much by it in his remarks on sublimity and beauty, as well as in the theory of that often-discussed quality, taste, which in this work is justly observed to prevail in our minds " either from a greater degree of natural sen- sibility, or from a closer and longer attention to the object." Toward the dechne of life, he was solicited by several intimate friends, particularly Sir Joshua Eeynolds and Dr. Laurence, to revise and enlarge this treatise by the addition of such facts and observations as thirty years must have supplied. The popularity of the work, they said, and the excellence of what was already done, fully deserved that it should be rendered as complete as possible. His reply usually was, that he was no longer fit to piu'sue speculative matters of that sort. His mind had been occupied so com- pletely by other and more active business, that he could not recur to them with that ease and satisfaction to himsell which such investigations required. Besides, several other writers had pursued the track he had challced out, so that there was little of novelty to add. To Dr. Laurence he said, he was never more fit for abstract sj^eculations than Avhen at college and immediately afterwards — that he had about that time speculated long and deeply — and in proof of the fact said, he had begun his Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful before he was nineteen years old, and had kept it by him for seven years before it was published. It was at the same period also he had written to confute Berkeley. As indicative of character, of extensive and various obser- vation and accurate deduction, both these productions are remarkable, particularly the latter considering the time of life at which it was written. From the nature of the subject independent of his own testimony, it is evident that it could not be a work of haste, but of much inquiry, of keen penetration, and of diligent remark, continued for a considerable period of time ; and was finished, as we have Been, before he was twenty-six ; an age at which few men, "4^ T,TFE OF r.TTRKy,. wiiaiever their attainments, think of starting for one of the >»ighest degrees in philosophy, much less are enabled to make good their claim to the distinction. Both works are evidences of a mind early and deeply reflective ; investi- gating for itself; coming out of the inquiry not with a desire to shine in paradox, or to astonish the world by propounding something very new or very adverse to all received o])inions, but wdth the conviction that the geneial belief of mankind in the main questions that interest them, religion, politics, and philosophy, is right. The simj^le, un- ornamented style of the Inquiry, is in good taste as applied to a philosophical subject. Continued application to these pursuits produced a tit of illness — too often the lot of the labourer in literature, whose existence, though gratifying to the pride of the human mind from real or fancied superiority over others, is in practice one of the most irksome. It admits of little relaxation. It must be pursiied chiefly in solitude. Society, which c-heers and animates most other men in their calling, becomes an impediment to the more brilliant conceptions of the author. His business is with books ; his chosen com- panions, the mute yet vivacious offspring of the brain. Bound to his desk, either by over-riding necessity or scarcely less forcible inclination, the lighter enjoyments of life cannot be often tasted without interfering with the continuity of his pursuits. Before him lies the stated task — the page not of nature but of the printer — to which he must sometimes unwillingly turn when more attractive objects invite him elsewliere. For the sun may shine, the fields look green, the flowers bloom in vain for him who in sallying forth to refresh his jaded intellect or exhausted frame, must neglect the occupation which possibly gives him subsistence. Such is the case now and then with the too diligent student. Cumberland has given a recital of bodily suffering endured in the acquisition of learning ; and Burke, had he written his own life, might have told a story still more distressing. For the re-establishment of his health, Bath and Bristol were again resorted to with success. In the former city resided his countryman Dr. Christopher Nugent, a very amiable man and esteemed physician, who ha\dng some previous acquaintance with the patient, invited him to hia ! 1757. HIS MAEEIAQE. 49 house as better adapted to the waiits of an iivvalid. An attachment to his daughter, Miss Jane Mary Nugent, was the result. The guest ofiered her nearly all he had at this time to oifer except what his father suppHed, his heart and hand, which were accepted. She was born in the south of Ireland, though educated chiefly in England ; ner father a Eoman Catholic, her mother a rigid Presbyterian ; Avho not only stipulated for the free enjoyment of her own religion, but for the privilege of educating her daughters in the same tenets, which were strictly retained by Mrs. Burke. It has been asserted through ignorance or determined party animosity, that she was a Eomanist ; and among much other abuse vented against her husband was, that he kept a Popish priest in the house for her, upon whom he exercised his love for deistical raillery. These are sad evidences of political malice, but form an epitome of that " hunt of obloquy," in his own words, " which has ever pursued me with a full cry through life." This union was to him a source of comfort ever after. Added to affectionate admiration of his talents, she possessed accomplishments, good sense, goodness of heart, and a sweetness of manners and disposition which served to allay many of the anxieties of his future career — the labours to attain fame and independence, the fretful moments atten- dant on severe study, the irritations produced by party and political zeal, and the tempestuous passions engendered by constant contention in active parliamentary life. He re- peatedly declared that " every care vanished the moment he entered imder his own roof." He wrote a beautifully de- scriptive prose paper, The idea of a wife, which he presented to her one morning on the anniversary of their marriage, deli- cately heading the paper thus, " The Character of ," leaving her to fill up the blank. To his intimate friends also, the earliest as well as the latest, she was equally a theme of praise. William Burke thus writes of her in Mcirch, 1766 : — " Poor Mrs. Burke has been visited by a most severe cold ; the delicacy of her frame, and that infinity of intrinsic worth that makes her dear to us, raised some anxious appre- hensions ; but, thank God ! she is so mucli better that our fears are no more." Madame D'Arblay and Hannah More bear testimony to her amiable manners in society. Men of genius are seldom so fortunate in their partners, or at least 50 LIFK or BUEKE. seldom ttink themselves so. By nature an ideal race, they look perhaps for more perfections than commonly fall to the lot of frail humanity, and expecting to meet with angels, are Badly disappointed in finding mere women. The ideas of the piece alluded to partake of a high order of poetry, but perhaps more fully and distinctly expressed than the restricted nature of rhyme is likely to allow to any other than the effusions of the very first poets. It is as follows : — " The Character of ." " I intend to give my idea of a woman ; if it at all answers any original, I shall be pleased ; for if such a person as I would describe really exists, she must be far superior to my description : and such as I must love too weU to be able to paint as I ought. " She is handsome, but it is a beauty not arising from features, from complexion, or from shape ; she has all three in a high degree, but it is not by these she touches an heart ; it is all that sweetness of temper, benevolence, innocence, and sensibihty, which a face can express that forms her beauty. " She has a face that just raises your attention at first sight, it grows on you every moment, and you wonder it did no more than raise your attention at first. " Her eyes have a mild light, but they awe you when she pleases ; they command like a good man out of office, not by authority but by virtue. "Her features are not perfectly regular; that sort of exactness is more to be praised than to be loved ; for it is never animated. " Her stature is not tall ; she is not made to be the admiration of every body, but the happiness of one. " She has aU the firmness that does not exclude delicacy ; she has all the softness that does not imply weakness. " There is often more of the coquette shown in an affected plainness than in a tawdry finery : she is always clean without preciseness or aftection. Her gravity is a gentle thoughtfulness, that softens the features without discompos- ing them ; she is usually grave. " Her smiles are inexpressible. " Her voice ia a low, soft music, net formed to rule in 1757. IPEA OF A WIPE. 51 public assemblies, but to charm those who can distinguish a company from a crowd ; it has this advantage, you must come close to her to hear it. " To describe her body describes her mind ; one is the transcript of the other. Her understanding is not shown :n the variety of matters it exerts itself on, but in the good- ness of the choice she makes, " She does not display it so much in saying or doing striking things, as in avoiding such as she ought not to say or do. " She discovers the right and wrong of things not by reasoning but sagacity : most women, and many good ones, have a closeness and something selfish, in their dispositions ; she has a true generosity of temper ; the most extravagant cannot be more unbounded in their liberality, the most covetoQS not more cautious in the distribution. " JS^o person of so few years can know the world better ; no person was ever less corrupted by that knowledge. " Her politeness seems to flow rather from a natiu'al disposition to oblige, than from any rules on that subject ; and therefore never fails to strike those who understand good breeding and those who do not. " She does not run with a girlish eagerness into new friendships, which, as they have no foundation in reason, serve only to multiply and embitter disputes ; it is long before she chooses, but then it is fixed for ever ; and the first hours of romantic friendships are not warmer than hers after the lapse of years. As she never disgraces her good nature by severe reflections on any body, so she never degrades her judgment by immoderate or ill-placed praises ; for every thing violent is contrary to her gentleness of disposition and the evenness of her virtue ; she has a steady and firm miud, which takes no more from the female character than the solidity of marble does from its polish and lustre. She has such virtues as make us value the truly great of our own sex ; she has all the winning graces, that makes us love even the foidts we see in the weak and beautiful of hers." The war then lately commenced with France exciting- attention to the American colonies as one of the chief poiuts in dispute, there came out in April, 1757, in two volume^ 52 LIFE OP BUEKE. octavo, "An Account of the European Settlements in America." Doubts have been started wbetber he was sole or joint author of this work. Eichard, who had now joined him from Ireland, and WiUiam Burke were supposed to have lent their aid, though the former was not a literary man, the latter very little so ; and his assistance, if any, no more than that of amanuensis or reading for references. Nearly all its pages bear traces of tlie superior workman— a little am- bitious perhaps in style, aiming at terseness and brevity, the reflections original and just — such an outline in fact as no writer need hesitate to own. It is not however retained in his works. Shackleton, who had no other means of knowing the fact than from himself or the family, always stated it to be wholly his. The Editor of the edition printed in 1808, stated that he had seen the receipt for the copy money, amounting to fifty guineas, in Edmund's hand- writing, audi also have seen it since. Were there just cause for doubt, internal evidence to any ddigent student of his writings would dispel it ; for there are several passages similar to what were afterwards advanced in conversations with Dr. Johnson, and in discussions concerning out* American Colonies, for which this book had unexpectedly prepared him. It has reached a seventh edition. Dugald Stewart termed it a masterly sketch ; and the Abbe Eaynal has profited by it in his history. Under the pressure of temporary difficulty, he is said soon after this period, to have sold his books, the arms pasted in some of them, according to the story, having disclosed the secret. Hence it has since been alleged by pohtical enemies that he was then frequently in distress. This was luitrue. His father had been induced to increase his allowance. His father-in-law likewise contributed considerable aid. He put the press under contribution in an honourable way. And though these sources did not make up an imposing income, considering the society into which his talents had found ready entrance, they kept him free from want or discreditable shifts. His wife proved a prudent economist; and to several depreciatory statements of the sin of poverty, gave a prompt and decided negative, remarking tliat Mr. Burke had never himself taken the trouble to answer such stories. .757 LETTEES TO SHACKLETOK, 53 CHAPTER III. Abridgment of English History — Annual Register — Acquaintance with Dr. Johnson — Anecdote of a Canon of Lichfield — Mrs. Anne Pitt, Bishop Warburton, Hume, Lord Charlemont, Mr. Fitzherbert — Con- nexion with Mr. Gerard Hamilton — Letter to Mr. Flood — Documents connected with Burke's Pension — Anecdote of his humanity. The reputation of the Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful being quickly diffused through the literary world by the trading critics, as well as by the most eminent private judges of the day, among whom was David Hume and others, immediately stamped the author as a man of inge- nuity and profound philosophical investigation. In 1757 a new edition was called for. To this was prefixed, for the first time, the introductory chapter on Taste. A coj)y sent to his father, who had not been well pleased with his desertion of the law, produced in return a present of 36IOO, as a testimony of paternal admiration. Another copy dispatched to his friend Shackletou, had on one of the blank leaves as expressive of his affectionate and unceasing regard — Accipe et hsec manuum tibi quse monumenta meorum Sint — et longum testentur araorem : All his future political works, especially the Thoughts on the Discontents, the Reflections on the French Revolution, the Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs, were trans- mitted to the same friend. In a communication along with the Essay, dated from Bat- tersea, August 10, 1757, he says, " This letter is accom- panied by a little performance of mine, which I will not consider as ineffectual, if it contributes to your amusement. It lay by me for a good while, and I at last ventured it out. It has not been ill received, so far as a matter on so abstracted a subject meets with readers." He apologizes for a long silence by his " manner of Hfe, chequered with various designs, sometimes in London, sometimes in remote parts of the country, sometimes in France, and shortly, please God, to be in America." This design before alluded to, it is scarcely necessary to say never took effect ; but it is Si LIFE OF BUBKE. illustrative of the rambling spirit often inherent in genius — which Goldsmith gratified and Burns wished to indulge. In January, 1758, the domestic circle received an addition by the birth of that favourite son, who through life was be- loved with even more than paternal fondness, and whose death, at the early age of 35, tended no doubt to hasten his own. Another sou, named Christopher, died in infancy. The wants of an increasing family proved an irresistible stimulus to industry by all the means within his power, and his pen at this time was actively employed on a variety of subjects, some of which were never published. One of those which remained in his owti possession, was an " Essay towards an Abridgment of EngUsh History," which he had intimated to his Ballitore friends some time previously, it was his intention to write at length. Eight sheets of this work were printed for Dodsley in 1757, but it was then discontinued, probably from hearing that Hume was engaged in treating of the same period of time, and perhaps from being unable to satisfy liis own taste, which, on an historical subject, was fastidious. It displays however, a spirit of close research into the earlier history of our island, not exceeded, perhaps not equalled, by works of much greater pretensions, and with more antiquarian knowledge than might be expected. The portion devoted to the aboriginal people, to the Druids, to the settlement of the Saxons, and to the detaUs relative to their laws and institu- tions, contains some information new to the general reader. On the whole it is perhaps the best abstract of that remote period we possess, mthout any admixture of the fabulous stories so common to the age ; and to youth it will be found instructive. The style differs from that of the " European Settlements" in aiming at less of point and effect, but possesses simplicity and perspicuity. The characters of William the Conqueror, Henry II, and John are happily drawn, and the distinguishing circumstances of their reigns well selected for narration. About this time English literature and English history became indebted to him in no ordinary degree by the estab- lishment, in conjunction with Dodsley, of the Annua] llegister. Of the excellence and utility of this work, the plan of which was ingenious, while the execution iusiu-ed great and unfading popularity, there never has been but one i 1758. AlfNTTAL EEGISTES. 53 opinion. Several of the first volunies passed to a fifth and sixth edition. It is the best, and the most comprehensive of all the periodical works, without any admixture of their trash, or their frequent tediousness of detail. Many of the sketches of contemporary history, written by himself or from his immediate dictation for about thirty years, are not merely valuable as coming from such a pen, but masterlyin themselves; and in the estimation of many competent judges, are not likely to be improved by any future historian. They form, in fact, the chief sources whence all the principal histories of the last sixty years have been, and must continue to be, com- piled, besides furnishing a variety of other useful and illustrative matter. The Annual Eegister for 1758, the first of the series, came out in June of the following year. Latterly a Mr. English and Dr. Walker (afterwards Bishop) King, the Editor of his works, wrote much of it under Burke's immediate direction. This publication it was not necessary to claim. The fact of his participation in it has been often matter of doubt, though, from an attentive examination of circumstances minute in themselves, added to the suppression of his name on important occasions when extraordinary compliments were paid him both in and out of the House of Commons, I was fully satisfied of the affirmative, even before I received more positive information. The sum allowed for it by Dodsley was aGlOO. Several receipts for the copy money in his o^vn hand- writing, are extant : the two following, for the year 1761, as being at hand, are given for the satisfaction of the reader : " Eeceived from Mr. Dodsley the sum of aSSO on account of the Annual Eegister of 1761, this 28th March, 1761. "Edm. Bukke." " Eeceived from Messrs. E. and T. Dodsley, the sum of 5650 sterling, being in full for the Annual Eegister of 1761, this 30th day of March, 1762. "Edm. Btjbke." Triflmg causes are tritely said to be sometimes productive of important effects : and the composition of the Annual Register may have tended to influence the fature career and fame of its author. By the investigations necessary for the historical article he became acquainted with the workings of practical politics, the secret springs by which they were put 56 LIFE OF BUEKE. in motion, and witli some of the cliief actors concerned. A careful writer of contemporary history for a series of years, cannot avoid ahnost, if he would, minutely scanning the political features of his own country and of Europe. He who has to speak during the session, and meditate during the recess — who is an actor on the great theatre of politics one half the year, and who must combine, analyze, and pon- der upon the proceedings in order to write upon them, during the other, may not xiltimately become a wise or great statesman ; but there is no doubt that he goes the most effectual way towards it. To Mr. Burke it imparted know- ledge and experience almost without the trouble of the search. Early in 1759, we find him resident in "Wimpole Street, the chief expenses of housekeeping being sustained by Dr. Nugent, whence he writes a most affectionate letter to his imcle Nagle, of Moneamyny, who had been an occasional mediator when disease or temper made his father unusually fractious. His companion, William Burke, is spoken of as proceeding to Ireland to his family, which appears to have resided near the same spot. He was no relative of Edmund, though occasionally called cousin ; was always an inseparable friend wdth whom there were no reserves ; who frequently resided in his house ; who first introduced him to Lord Kockingham, to Lord Verney, who gave him liis first seat in Parliament ; to the Eev. i)r. Markham, then Head Master of "West- minster School, afterwards Archbishop of York ; and to many others. He is said to have been brought up at Westminster School. An intimacy Avith the eminent Samuel Johnson had com menced some time previous to this, at the table of Garrick. On Christmas-day, 1758, Arthur Murphy dined with them, and was siu-prised to find the lexicographer submit to con- tradiction, India being the subject of discussion, from his companion twenty years younger than himself, which he would tolerate from no other person, whatever their talents or experience. A mutual admiration seemed to be the first feeling between them, which nothing afterwards served to diminish. It survived occasional sharp contentious for victory in conversation, the clashing of opposite political attachments and opinions, the almost irreconcileable feuds occasioned even among friends by the American conteBt, 1759, BTJEKE AND JOHNSON. 57 and the devoted adherence of the orator to that party which the other ui his stroug manner denominated "AVhig dogs." Nothing contributed more to this esteem than Burke's faculty to excel in what his friend so eminently practised . liimself and loved in others, " good talk." The conversation of the former, if less striking than that of Johnson, was more conciliating ; if less pungent, perhaps quite as enter- taining; and in general society much more acceptable, because less overbearing. He communicated to his hearers scarcely less information without leaving behind it the sting of bitter sarcasm, or rude contempt, to rankle in the breast of a defeated antagonist. His manners were at the same time unassuming, distinguished more for suavity than that variety and vivacity which are sometimes the results of studied efforts at display. No great man ever praised another more than Johnson praised Burke. Eemarking in conversation that the fame of men was generally exaggerated in the world, somebody quoted Burke as an exception, and he instantly admitted it — '• Yes ; Burke is an extraordinary man ; his stream ot mind is perpetual." "Burke's talk," he said at another time, " is the ebullition of his mind ; he does not talk from a desire of distinction, but because his mind is full." An argumentative contest with him, he seemed to think required such exertion on his own part, that when unwell at one time, and Burke's name was mentioned, he observed, "That fellow calls forth all my powers. Were I to see Burke now it would kill me." " Burke," added he again, " is the only man whose common conversation corresponds with tlie general fame which he has in the world. Take up whatever topic you please, he is ready to meet you." Often did he repeat, " That no man of sense could meet Mr. Burke by accident under a gateway to avoid a shower, without being convinced that he was the first man in England." " Burke, Sir," said he at another time, " is such a man, that if you met him for the first time in the street where you were stopped by a drove of oxen, and you and he stepped aside for shelter but for five minutes, he'd talk to you in such a manner that when you parted you would say — this is an extraordinary man. Now you may be long enough with me without finding an thing extraordinary." lie 68 LIFE OF BITRKB. allowed him to be a man of consummate if not unrivalled abilities very early in his parliamentary career ; " with vast variety of knowledge, store of imagery, and copiousness oi language." A frequent question to Murphy was, " Are you not proud of your countryman ?" adding occasionally, " Cum talis sit utinam noster esset !" Of all the triumphs of Mr. Burke, it was perhaps the greatest to compel tlie admiration and personal love of a man whose mind was at once so capacious and so good, so powerful and so prejudiced, so celebrated and so deserving of celebrity. What Johnson termed "Burke's affluence of conversa- tion," and which he so highly prized and frequently talked of, often proved, as may be supposed, a source of mingled wonder and admiration to others. Few men of education but were impressed by it, and fewer still who had the opportunity of being in his society frequently, forgot the pleasure they had thus enjoyed. Many years after this period, Mr. Burke and a friend travelling through Lichfield for the first time, stopped to change horses, when being desirous to see more of a place which had given birth to his friend Johnson than a casual glance aftorded, they strolled towards the cathedral. One of the Canons observing two respectable strangers making inquiries of the attendants, very politely came up to ofl'er such explanations as they desired, when a few minutes only had elapsed before the feeling of superior information on such matters, with which he had met them, became changed to something like amazement at the splendour, depth, and variety of the con- versation of one of the strangers. No matter what topic started, whether architecture, antiquities, ecclesiastical history, the revenues, persecutions, or the lives of the early ornaments and leading members of the church ; he touched upon them all with the readiness and accuracy of a master. They had not long separated when some friends of the Canon met him hurrying along the street : " I have had," said he, " quite an adventure ; I have been conversing for this half hour past with a man of the most extraordinary powers of mind and extent of information, which it has ever been my fortune to meet, and I am now going to the inn to ascertain if possible who this stranger is." There he learnt that his late companion who had just set oft", was the cele- brated IMr. Burke. He regretted much that he had not 759. BUEKE ATTD WAEBUETOIT. 59 known this s :oner ; and lils friends that they had not had an opportunitr of knowing or seeing him at all. The circum- stance formed an exemplification of Johnson's remark, that wherever met with, he was never to be mistaken for an ordinary man. In speaking of Burke's social hours, the late Mr. Grattan not long before his death, observed to several friends that he was the greatest man in conversation he had met with. A nobleman who was present (Lord C.) inquired whether he did not think Curran on some occasions greater ? *• No, my Lord," was the reply — " Curran indeed had much wit ; but Burke had wit too, and in addition to wit, boundless stores of wisdom- and knowledge." The ease with which he intro- duced a subject, and the subtlety by which it was often car- ried on, were alluded to by Groldsmith, when he said in reply to an eulogy on Johnson's powers of conversation, " But is he like Burke, who winds into his subject like a serpent ?" Among other eminent persons to whom the reputa- tion of his philosophical essay and powers of conversation gave ready introduction, were Bishop Warburton, George Lord Lyttleton, Mr. Fitzherbert, member for Derby, Soame Jenyns, Mr. (afterwards Sir Joshua) Reynolds, Pulteney Earl of Bath, and perhaps a more remarkable person than either, Mrs. Anne Pitt, sister of the celebrated minister thee at the head of the cabinet. This lady, Mr. Burke used to say, possessed not only great and agreeable talents, but was the most perfectly eloquent person he had ever heard speak. He lamented not ha-\ang committed to paper one particular conversation in which the richness and variety of her dis- course quite astonished him. She was accustomed to tell her great brother in their argumentative contests, that he knew nothing but Spenser's Fairy Queen. " And no matter how that was said," added Burke, in mentioning the circumstance, " but whoever relishes and reads Spenser as he ought to be read, will have a strong hold of the English language." Of his acquaintance with "Warburton which was but slight, he gave the following account in conversation with Mr. Wilkes, who had commenced a smart attack on the character of the bishop which Mr. Burke rather defended. "I was in a large private company in which it so happened that I did not hear the mames of the persons who sat on either side of 60 LIEE OP BURKE. me. One of them, however, attracted my attenbion in a very particular manner by the variety and depth of his con- versation, carried on in an easy, good-humoured tone, and sometimes he was even amusing. From the latter cir- cumstance—so contrary to what might be supposed from the violence of the controversialist — I must confess I was for some time in doubt ; but at length exclaimed, ' Sir, I think I cannot mistake ; you must be the celebrated Dr. Warburton : aut Erasmus aut Diabolux.'' Warburton smiled, and we had much interesting conversation during the remainder of the evening." To Sir Joshua Reynolds and Wilkes he also related an anecdote of the Bishop, not a little indicative of the vanity and self-importance of that prelate, which had been told him by Blakey, the artist. That gentleman having been em- ployed by Warburton to design the frontispiece to his edition of Pope, received directions to make him (Warbiu"ton) the principal and foreground figure in the composition, and the ^ poet only secondary. These orders w^ere of course obeyed,' and in the piece the light proceeds upward from Warbiu-ton to Pope, in opposition to the usual rules of art. Wilkes wittily observed, " It was not merely on that, but on all occasions, that the bishop and the poet had been looking different ways." Mr. Pitzherbert was a man of a very different stamp, most amiable and agreeable, whom every one liked, and a great friend to authors and to letters. Mr. Burke, the Mar- quis of Eockingham, and others eminent in that day, lived on the most intimate footing with him. Hume, whom he first met at the table of Garrick, was another acquaintance ; and the historian found his opmions of so much coiisequence in London, that on the publication of Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, he thought it necessary to present him with a copy, writing his reasons to the author, Apnl 1st, 1759. " Wedderburn and I made presents of our copies to such of our acquaintance as we thought good judges, and proper to spread the reputation of the book. I sent one to the Duke of Argyle, Lord Lyttelton, Horace Walpole, Soame Jenyns, and Burke, an Irish gentleman, who wrote lately a very pretty treatise on the Sublime." A considerable degree of intimacy arose from this civility. But on religion and 1759. BrRKE AKD HUME. 61 politics their sentiments were too diametrically opposed ever to approach to agreement. A difference of opinbn respect- ing the Irish massacre of 1641 gave rise to some animated discussions between them ; Burke maintaining, from docu- ments existing in Dublin University, that the common accounts of that event were overcliarged ; Hume, that the statements in his history were correct. With Adam Smith himself, a greater degree of friendship prevailed. His work was termed in the Annual Register of that year "excellent ; a dry abstract of which would convey no juster idea of it than the skeleton of a departed beauty would of her form when she was alive." And on subsequently coming to London, this philosopher paid a high compliment to the sound judgment of Mr. Burke as the only man he had met with who thought as he did on the chief topics of political economy,* without previous communication. Mr. Burke was accustomed to tell his friends, speaking of Hume in familiar conversation, that in manners he was an easy unaffected man, previous to going to Paris as Secretary to Lord Hertford, the British Ambassador ; but that the adulation and caresses of the female wits of that capital had been too powerful even for a philosopher. The result was, he returned a literary coxcomb. He remarked likewise, that Hume had taken very little trouble with his history, particularly as to the earlier accounts of this island, having examined very few ancient records or writers, his aim being rather to make out a pleasing narrative than to ascertain facts. This he had discovered in consequence of having in some degree gone over the same ground himself. But in addition to this, * It appears that IMr. Fox, by his own coiifestiion to Mr. C. Butler, of Lincoln's Inn, never read Adam Smitli's gi'eat -work on the 'Wealth of Nations : that " there was something: in all these subjects which passed his comprehension ; something: so wide, that he could never embrace them himself, or find any one who did." This account of the science of Political Economy is at variance with all opinions of the best informed men, and in itself certainly inaccurate. It is another proof, however, of what tlie present writer has advanced in another part of this work, in sketching- his character, namely, that he was impatient of study — of mental labour on Bubjects of abstract inquiry — of profiting as he mig-ht have done by the experience and intense meditation of others; consequently, that thouo-h always a g-i-eat man, he did not sufficiently discipline his mind to become a truly wise one. G2 LITE OF BURKE. Hiime himself, being pushed pretty hard in conversation, acknowledged to Boswell on one occasion, that he had not paid much attention to the older historians on controverted points. He had merely dipped into them ; for little he thought was to be gained by minute examination. The introduction to Dr. Markham now promised to be prac- tically useful. Like most others, that gentleman felt the impress of Burke's genius and character ; and seeing an opening to befriend him in the line of his commercial studies, addressed the following letter with that view to the Duchess of Queensbury. " Westminster, Sept. 25, 1759. " Madam, " I must entreat your Grace's pardon, for the trouble I am giving you. It is in behalf of a very deserving person vrith whom I have long had a close friendship. My ac- quaintance with your Grace's sentiments and feelings per- suades me that I shall not want advocates when I have told you my story. " The consulship at Madrid has been vacant these eight months. Lord Bristol is writing pressing letters to have a Consul appointed. I am informed that the oflSce lies so much out of the road of common applications that it has not yet been asked for ; that it has been offered to some who have declined it ; and that Mr. Pitt is actually at a loss for a proper person to appoint to it. This has encoiiraged my friend to think of it. It so happens that those who might serve him are mostly out of town. He expects recommenda- tions from some whom he has writ to. The warm part that I take in all his interests obhges me to avail myself of the honour I have of being known to your Grace, and to beg as much of your assistance vdth Mr. Pitt as you think you can give me with propriety. " It is time I should say who my friend is. His name is Edmund Burke. As a literary man he may not be quite unknown to you. He is the author of a piece which im- posed on the world as Lord Bolingbroke ; called the ' Ad- vantages of Natural Society,' and of a very ingenious book published last year, called ' A Treatise on the Sublime and the Beautiful.' " I must further say of him, that his chief application has been to the knowledge of public business, and our com- 1759, EEV. DH. MAHKHAM TO DUCHESS OF QUEEKSBUET. G3 mercial interests ; that he seems to have a most extensive knowledge, with extraordinary talents for business, and to want nothing but ground to stand upon to do his country very important services. Mr. Wood the under Secretary, has some knowledge of him, and will I am persuaded do ample justice to his abilities and character. As for myself as far as my testimony can serve him, I shall freely venture it on all occasions ; as I value him not only for his learning and talents, but as being in all points of character a most amiable and most respectable man. " I hope jour Grace will forgive my taking up so much of your time. I am really so earnest in this gentleman's behalf that if I can be instrumental in helping him I shall think it one of the most fortunate events of my life. I beg leave to trouble you vdth my compliments to the Duke ; and am with a fresh remembrance of your many kindnesses, your Grace's most obliged and most faithful servant, "W. Maekham." The Duchess transmitted this earnest and friendly appeal to the proper quarter, but as we know — and may perhaps rejoice— without beneficial result. Mr. Pitt was not fated to patronize Biu-ke when unknown. He was as little dis- posed to give him office after complimenting him highly in the House of Commons, and when strongly requested so to do by his brother architect in building up the Ministry of 1766, the Duke of Grafton. And througli the remainder of life seems to have entertained feelings of something like distaste or jealousy towards one who trod so closely on the heels of his own lead, abilities, and reputation. With as much pride as talents, he could admit no rival in eminence ; and appeared even indisposed to tolerate a successor. About this time he occasionally resided at Plaistow in Essex. A lady, then about foiu'teen years old, and residing in that neighbourhood, informs the writer that she perfectly remembers him there. His brother Eichard, who found employment in the city, was with him frequently ; and both were much noticed in the neighbourhood for agreeable and sociable qualities. Among their visitors, calculated to attract notice in the country, were several known as popular authors, and a few men of rank. In October 1759, a letter ^o his uncle announces Eichard' s departure on a mercantile 64 LirE OF BUEKE. adventure to the "West Indies. " Poor Dick is on the point of quitting us ; liowever he has such advantageous prospects ■where he is going that I part from him Avith the less regret. One of the first merchants here, has taken him by the hand and enabled him to go off with a very valuable cargo." William Burke was likewise a frequent visitor at Plaistow, and occasionally exercised himself in the press. On the pubKcation in 1760 of Lord Bath's letter to two great men, meaning Mr. Pitt and the Duke of Newcastle, on the pro- priety of retaining Canada in preference to acquisitions in the West Indies in the proposed conditions of peace, this gentleuian wrote a reply strongly recommending the re- tention of Guadaloupe and other islands. To this Dr. Pranklin tliought it necessary to write a rejoinder, support- ing the opinion of Lord Bath.* Another pamphlet said to have been corrected by Edmund, came from him in 176 L on the failure of the negociation with Mr. Bussy, entitled " An Examination of the Commercial Principles of the late Negociation." On this subject both were well qualified to form an opinion. Edmund with an eye to the future, had devoted much time to this study as one of the first considerations necessary for an English Statesman, and had succeeded in mastering its details. Among his acquaintance was Lord Lyttelton and several others who had been either opposed to or connected with Sir Robert AValpole's administration. From these he seems to have formed rather a favourable opinion of that once unpopular man. He believed that he meant well and tliat his measures however opp sed at the time, were best fitted for the solid interests oi the country, the preservation of peace and the advancement of commerce. He it Avas who first told the story, since so often repeated, of the retired minister desiring his son to read to him ; and when questioned as to the subject — shotdd it be history ? " No," replied the statesman, "there can be no truth in that." He admitted philosophical speculations, travels, and PHny — * " The opinion of the Burkes, after all, was most just. America wi h such a neighbour would have become more dependent on England. M. de Vergennes used to mention it as one of the greatest political en'ora that had ever been committed." — Butler's Reminiscences, p. 15G. 1760. LETTER TO MR. TESET. 65 i but in his own special department all save simple results 1 was but conjecture. I An invitation from the nobleman just mentioned is alluded to in a letter to INIr. Agmondisham Vesey then in Ireland, who was employed to soothe the fretful temper of his father, stdl dissatisfied that so promising a son should make such slow progress in worldly advancement. It dates from Sunning Hdl, Se^it. 10, 1760. " I cannot express how much I am obliged to you for your kind and successful endeavours in my favour ; of what- ever advantage the remittance was, the assurance you give me of my father's reconcihation was a great deal more pleasing, and both indeed were rendered infinitely more agreeable to me by passing through your hands. I am sensible how very much I am indebted to yoiu* good nature upon this occasion. If one has but little merit, it is some consolation to have partial friends. Lord Lyttelton has been at Hagley for this month past, or near the matter ; where for the first time he receives his friends in his new house. He was so obligiag to invite me ; I need not say that I am much concerned to find I shaU not be able to obey his Lordship's commands, and that I must lose for this year at least the sight of that agreeable place, and the con- versation of its agreeable owner. Mrs. Montagu is, I beheve, at Timbridge, for she told me on her leaving town that she intended to make a pretty long stay there. May I flatter myself with the hope of seeing you this winter in London ? I cannot so easily forget the evenings I have passed not to be most desirous of rene^ving them." He had removed now from Wimpole to Queen Anne Street, next door to Mr. Fitzherbert. In the Annual Eegister he found amusement in noticing some of the first books of the day, such as Hume and Robertson's histories, Leland's — an old college friend — Philip of Macedon, Walpole's Eoyal and JS'oble Authors, and many more of superior merit. Among others was Johnson's Easselas, on which he first made the observation : *' The instruction which is found in works of this kind when they convey any instruction at aU is not the predominant part, but arises accidentally in the course of a story planned only to please. But in this novel the moral is the principal object, and the story is a mere vehicle to convey the instruction." " 1" 66 LIFE OF BURKE. He was at the same time laying the groundwork for that introduction into public life on which he had early cast his eye. His predilections were chiefly political. Much of his studies and writings tended to that point. The society with which he mixed served to confirm it. And the possession of an able pen, a clear head, and latent confidence in his o\vn general powers, increased a prepossession Avhich promised the readiest avenue to fame and station. A slender opening into that department at length seemed to ofier. Among the warmest admirers of his talents was his countryman the amiable and patriotic Lord Charlemont. A peer without undue pride, a man of fashion without foppery, a good scholar though never at a public school or university, a voluminous writer without courting the honours of the press, and a patriot with little of the leaven of faction, he commanded general esteem and respect. Born to a title and competent fortune, he laid his country under no con- tribution for his services, and on most occasions gave his vote to the ministry or to the opposition, as the public interest seemed to require. He lived chiefly in Ireland, not as a matter of preference but from a sense of duty to the country whence he derived his birth, his title, and his income. He wielded many years after this time a tremendous military engine, the Irish volunteers, at a moment of strong national excitement and difilculty, in a manner the most prudent and able. A patron and friend of hterature, he sought and valued the society of its most eminent professors. No man was more popular in his own country, or seemed better to appproach the model of what a nobleman should be in all coimtries. Mr. Burke said many years afterwards, " Lord Charlemont IS a man of such polished manners, of a mind so tridy adorned and disposed to the adoption of whatever is excellent and praiseworthy, that to see and converse with him would alone induce me, or might induce any one who relished such qualities, to pay a visit to Dublin." His weaknesses were few, and woidd not be worth enumerating, had not some of them led, almost in the last stage of life, to an interruption of correspondeiice with his then celebrated friend. He thought, it seems, that pubHo virtue centred chiefly in the Whigs. He had too strong a jealousy of the Eemau Catholics. He considered the rcTO- 1760. MB. GERAED HAMILTON. 67 lution in France as the dawn of rational liberty. He leaned to the question of parliamentary reform in Ireland at a moment when he saw and acknowledged that its chief sup- porters entertained, as the subsequent rebellion proved, more dangerous designs. And he was too much of an Irishman in common with other mistaken Irishmen to look on the con- templated union with England otherwise tliau as the ruin of his country. By this distiuguished character Mr. Burke was introduced in 1759 to another of not less notoriety. This was Mr. "WiUiam Gerard (commonly called Single-speech) Hamilton, a gentleman who, after a few able efforts in the House of Commons, gained more celebrity afterwards by keeping his tongue still, than many others by the most determined volubiKty. The sou of a lawyer, grounded in the same profession himself, and bred at Oriel College, Oxford, he in May 175J<, became transplanted from Lincoln's Inn to the House of Commons as member for Petersfield. A brilliant speech, in about eighteen months, followed by one or two others of Icj^s interest, made him a Lord of Trade in 1756, of which board Lord Halifax was then president. With that nobleman, created Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, he proceeded thither in 1761 as chief secretary, shone ofi' \ividly on two or three occasions, returned to England in about three years, and, though a senator for the remainder of his life, above thirty sessions, his lips within the House were ever after sealed, as is said, to public discussion. "While he declined however to give the country his advice, he did not hesitate to take its money, having enjoyed the sinecure of Chancellor of the Irish Exchequer fi'om 1 763 to 178I<, when it was resigned, though not without an equivalent, to Mr. Foster. His talents were reckoned of the first class, his under- standing clear, his judgment sound, particularly as his friends said, on the first ^•iew of a question before his in- genuity had time to fritter it away in useless subtleties and refinements to which he was prone. His wit was pointed, his oratory epigrammatic and antithetical, his conversation easy and agreeable. In composition he was laboriously affected, being a literary fop of the riost determined cast ; for a stop omitted, a sentence not fully turned, or a word that upon reflection could be amended, were sufficient to occasion the recall of a note to a familiar acquaintance. What 68 LTTE OF BUEKB. he uttered in public partook of the same labour. Ke wq.3 one of the few members of either House who wrote, got by lieart, and rehearsed his speeches in private, previous to their delivery in tbe House of Commons. One of these, three hours in length. Lord Charlemont knew to have been re- peated three times before a friend. He possessed, however, a very useful faculty,— a clear insight into character, which after the first introduction, made him cultivate the acquaintance of Burke, with a desire of attaching him to his own service. The appointment to Ireland opportunely offered for this purpose. It was settled that he should accompany him as a friend, partly perhaps in the situation of private secretary, in which, as being per- fectly conversant with the local interests, parties, and public characters of the country, his services promised to be of high value. In March, 1761, the appointments of Lord Halifax and his friends were arranged, though the chief persons did not reach the seat of government until the ensuing October. Burke preceded them, having arrived towards the eti>d of August. What share he had in giving advice, cannot now be known. He himself it will be seen, speaks of " a long and laborious attendance ;" but whatever his suggestions might have been, Hamilton, as chief, would naturally take the credit to himself. Higli political authority intimately conversant with the politics and private history of Ireland at this period, suggests to me that his principal (employment was, as deputy of Hamilton, to manage the Irish House of Commons. For this belief there is some ground in the friendship sliown him by Primate Stone, then one of the most active " Undertakers," as they wei'e termed, for ruling tliat country ; and from an expression in a letter written at this time, or shortly afterwards and still in existence by a man in power in Dublin, which in allusion to Burke's activity, coarsely calls him " Hamilton's jackal." Little doubt exists that his services were put in requisi- tion on the chief measures brought forward or recommended by government. Of one of these he is believed to have been the author in conjunction with Lord Kenmare ; namely, the project for raising during a period of great distress almost amounting to famine among the peasantry of the west of Ireland, six regiments of lloinan Catholics officered 1761. DEATH OP HIS FATHEE. G9 by persons of tlie same persuasion, for the service of Portu- gal. This scheme failed through the adverse influence of the great landed proprietors in that quarter of the country. One of his literary productions, or rather state-papers, which at a late period of life was acknowledged either by himself or by Hamilton it is not clearly remembered which, was the reply of Lord Halifax to the Irish parliament refusing an augmentation voted almost unanimously. 26th Feb. 1762, of £4000 per annum to his salary. Of the consideration which he enjoyed and the esteem his talents command- ed, no better proof need be afforded than the intimate friendships formed, or renewed, with Mr. Henry Flood, Sir Hercules Langrishe, Mr. Monk Mason, Mr. Pery, after- ward Speaker of the Irish House of Commons and ulti- mately created a peer, besides the friendship of the Primate and others, men of leading talents and influence iu both Houses of Parliament. The opportunity aflbrded by this trip of renewing literary, as well as political connexions which had been interrupted by his stay in England, was not neglected. With Dr. Thomas Wilson, Senior Fellow of the University, Dr. Bluu- dell, Dr. Kearney, and others formerly the directors or partners of his studies, it is recorded that he spent an evening or two every week, conversing chiefly on topics connected with letters. Discussing the merits of the Latin historians one evening, the former gentleman is said to have proposed to join him in translating Livy, but this, ]\Ir. Burke, who probably found he had quite business enough on his hands in the bustle of politics and his other lite- rary occupations, declined. " Good translators," he said, " of Latin authors are rare; and yet, unlike most other rarities, they are not valued as they deserve." He now prompted Leland to vrrite his Irish history. In November 1761 he lost his father.* Two months previously he had visited his old and esteemed friends at Ballitore. Mr. and INIrs. Shackleton in return, calling at his * Some remarks of General Conway, March, 1771, on frequent divisions of the House, and a foolish speech of Mr. Georg-e Onslow, that bein^ descended from Speakers he ought best to know its forms, with some allusions which Burke, who shunned pretence, tiiouirht personal, drew fi-ora him the manly admission — " My father left me nothing in the world but good principles, good instruction, good example, which I have BOt departed fi-om." TO LITE OF BUEKE. apartments at Dublin Castle, surprised him on the carpet busily occupied in romping with his two boys, and used to mention the affectionate interest he took in their infantile amusements as a proof of an amiable, joined to what the world afterward knew to be a great mind. To a late period of life he delighted in children, amusing himself with what he called his " men in miniature," frequently participating in their juvenile sports, and perhaps at the same moment in- structing their grandfathers, by turning from one to the other to throw out some forcible remark upon human nature, induced by the scenes which their little habits, passions, and contentions afforded. It was no unfrequent thing to see him spinning a top or a teetotum with the boys who occasionally visited at Beaconsfield ; and the following is an instance of a similar playful spirit. A gentleman well known in the literary and political world, who when young amused himself by taking long walks in the vicinity of London, once directed his steps towards Harrow about the time of the coalition ministry, when on a green in front of a small cottage, he espied an assemblage of such men as are rarely seen together. Mr. Burke, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan (the owner of the cottage), Lord John Townshend, Lord William Eussell, and four or five others the most eminent of the Whig party, were diverting themselves after what was then customary, an early dinner. The employment of the former was the most conspicuous ; it consisted in rapidly wheeling a boy (the late Mr. Thomas Sheridan) round the sward in a child's hand-chaise, with an alertness and vivacity that indicated an almost equal enjoyment in the sport with his young com- panion, who in fact was so much pleased with his adidt play-fellow, that he would not let him desist, nor did the orator seem much to desire it, till a summons to horse an- nounced the separation of the party. How long he remained in Dublin does not exactly appear. In March 1763 when in Queen Anne Street, he received the reward of his services in his native country in a pension of 56300 per annum, on the Irish establishment. To his friends in Ballitore he wrote in April annovmcing the grant. He mentions likewise Eichard's good fortune in being ap- pointed collector in Grenada. Lord Northumberland he believes is nominated Lord-Lieutenant ; and adds that if 1763. LETTER 10 TLOOD. 71 Mr. Hamilton be the new Secretary, he may visit Ireland again in the winter. " I am indebted to him and the Lord Primate for what I have already got." A curious error occurred in the grant of this pension, as appears by the following extract of a letter from IMr. Secre- tary Hamilton to Sir Eobert AVilmot, dated April 14, 1763, for which, and a subsequent document, I am indebted to a gentleman of high political rank and talents.* " There is a mistake in one of the pensions which I desire may be rectified at any hazard, as I was the occasion of it. It is not William Birt who is to have a pension of afc'300 per annum upon the Primate's list, but Edmund Burke." The boon, commencing thus somewhat inauspiciously was as inauspiciously terminated, having been enjoyed for twelve months only, when from the unreasonable claims made upon his gratitude, it was thrown up with indignation. The particulars as related by himself in May 1765, shortly after the transaction in a letter to Mr. Henry Mood, are too honourable to the writer and too interesting to the reader to be given in other than his own words. They exhibit with what indifference a high spirit relinquished a pecuniary favour, unconditionally granted, when its con- tinued acceptance could be construed, however illiberally, and without the least anticipation of such a demand, into an obligation to future and constant servitude. " I thank you for your kind and most obliging letters ; you are a person whose good offices are not snares, and to whom one may venture to be obliged without danger to his honour. As I depend upon your sincerity, so shall I most certainly call upon your friendship, if I should have any thing to do in Ireland ; this however is not the case at present, at least in any way in which your interposition may be employed ^vith a proper attention to yourself; a point which I shall always very tenderlj" consider in any applica- tion I make to my friends. " It is very true that there is an eternal ruptiu-e between me and Hamilton, which was on my side neither sought nor provoked ; for though his conduct in public aftairs has been for a long time directly contrary to my opinions, very re- proachful to himself, and extremely disgustful to me ; and • Rt. Hon. J. W. Croker. 72 LIFE or BTJBKE. though in private he has not justly fulfilled one of his en- gagements to me, yet I was so imeasy and awkward at coming to a breach, where I had once a close and intimate friendship, that I continued with a kind of desperate fidehty to adhere to his cause and person ; and when I found him greatly disposed to quarrel with me, I used such submissive measures as I never before could prevail upoii Toyself to use to any man. " The occasion of our difference was not any act what- soever on my part ; it was entirely on his, by a voluntary but most insolent and intolerable demand, aiuounting to no less than a claim of servitude during the whole course of my life, without leaving me at any time a power either of getting forward with honour, or of retiring with tranquillity. This was really and tridy the substance of his demand upon me, to which I need not tell you I refused with some degree of indignation to submit. On this we ceased to see each other, or to correspond a good while before you left London. He then commenced, through the intervention of others, a negociation with me, in which he showed as much of mean- ness in his proposals as he had done of arrogance in his demands ; but as all these proposals were vitiated by the taint of that servitude with which they were all mixed, his negociation came to nothing. " He grounded these monstrous claims (such as never were before heard of in this country) on that pension which he had procured for me through Colonel Cunninghame, the late Primate, and Lord Halifax, for through all that series of persons this paltry business was contrived to pass. Now, though I was sensible that I owed this pension to the good will of the Primate in a great degree, and though if it had come from Hamilton's pocket, instead of being derived from tlie Irish treasury, I had earned it by a long and laborious attendance, and might in any other than that unfortunate connexion have got a much better thing ; yet to get rid of him completely, and not to carry a memorial of such a per- son about me, I offered to transmit it to his attorney in trust for him. This offer he thought proper to accept. I beg pardon, my dear Flood, for troubling you so long on a sub- ject which ought not to employ a moment of your thoughts, and never shall again employ a moment of mine." Several letters between Burke and Hamilton on this 1763. CONNEXION WITH GEEAED HAMILTON. 73 subject appear in the correspondence of tte former, pub- lished since the third edition of this work, but throw no new light on the details.* Others were addressed by the offended party to Dublin friends known to both, particularly Mr. Hely Hutchinson and Mr. Monck Mason. In these he accuses Hamilton of shuffling, of falsifying his promises, of wishing to tie him down for life in his service an uncon- ditional slave, in terms of indignation as strong as language can supply. The claim made upon him seems certainly of an extraordinary kind ; and he states it fully to all his friends. Yet his previous services had been long and un- remitting — " Six of the best years of my life he took me from every pursuit of literary reputation, or of the improve- ment of my fortune. In that time he made his own fortune (a very great one), and he has also taken to himself the very little one which I had made." Other references occur of the same tenor, to the extent and value of his services. Their exact nature does not appear; but Hamilton it is clear, proceeded to every extremity in order to ensure their con- tinuance. As he held a seat at the Board of Trade previous to going to Ireland, and Burke's studies had for some time taken that turn, he probably profited by them to the increase of his reputation. One general allusion occurs in the first letter — " You may recollect," writes Burke, " when you did me the honour to take me as a companion in your studies, you found me with the little work we spoke of last Tuesday as a sort of rent-charge on my thoughts." It is possible that Hamilton may have been ambitious of literary fame, and aimed at securing such an efficient assistant. On their final ruptiu'e Burke writes, — " I shall in half an hour send all your books which I can just now find, in print or manu- script, except the loose pamphlets ; the latter shall be sent as soon as possible ; and if any should remain of the former, I shall faithfully retiu-n as I find them." His o\vn work alluded to is not ascertained, but may have been the frag- ment on the history of England. This quarrel excited considerable notice among people in power in Dublin, as appears by a letter from Mr. Secretary Waite to Sir Robert Wilmot. For this also the writer is indebted to Mr. Croker, whose reseai*ches on contempo» rary history have so often instructed the public. • Edited by Earl Fitzwilliam and Sir Richard Bourke, K.C.B. 74 I'IStet. 93 state of mind, he assembled together a motley group of stragglers, of which seven years afterwards Burke drew the following memorable and scarcely overcharged portrait — " He put together a piece of joinery so crossly indented and whimsically dovetailed ; a cabinet so variously inlaid ; such a piece of diversified Mosaic ; such a tesselated pave- ment without cement; here a bit of black stone, and there a bit of white ; patriots and courtiers ; King's friends and republicans ; Whigs and Tories ; treacherous friends and open enemies ; that it was indeed a very curious show ; but utterly unsafe to touch and unsure to stand ou. The col- leagues whom he had assorted at the same board stared at each other, and were obliged to ask — Sir, your name ? Sir, you have the advantage of me — Mr. Such-a-oue — I beg a thousand pardons— I venture to say it did so happen that persons had a single office divided between them who had never spoken to each other in their lives." Upon such a slippery pedestal did this eminent man aim to exalt himself to the gaze of the multitude, the chief, almost the only prominent figure in the group. Either dictator, or nothing, had been for some years his motto. Success and popular applause had in some measure spoiled him. He dreamt not of meeting with a superior. He could not brook the idea of having even an equal in office ; for he had continually interfei-ed in the details of the official business of others when interference was neither delicate nor re- quired. He had hitherto loftily upheld the supremacy of his own opinions over those of all the rest of the cabinet, none of whom he would condescend to conciliate or per- suade, yet loftily expected to govern them all. Though therefore beyond doubt the most popular and successful war minister which Great Britain had ever possessed, his arro- gance had repelled and disgusted nearly as many friends as his abilities or eloquence tiad ever drawn around him. This disposition unhappily led him to care little for men or measures, except such as came out under his own especial protection. It is difficult for an attentive reader of the history of this period not to believe, that to this overweening confidence in himself and impatience of any thing like equality of talents or power in others, the good of his country was more than once sacrificed. A junction with the Eockingham party while in office would have astiured 94 LITE OP BUEKE. 1766. present harmony with America; and their united good sense, penetration, and the recollection of Sir Robert Wal- poie's refusal to tax that country, might have eventually warded off that contest for many years, or eventually softened it. The Marquis it seems, made the attempt to win him more than once, but found the truth of Bubb Dodington'a assertion that he would be " an impracticable colleague."* His own scheme of a ministry was utterly hopeless. The former lofty dictator soon submitted to be neglected by the men of his own making. He sunk in a few months to the degree of subaltern in the corps which he had embodied and naturally expected to command ; measures being adopted in the cabinet with regard to America (namely, the duties on tea, paper, glass, and painters' colours), in the very teeth of his proclaimed opinions and declarations • exemplifying the truth of another remark of the eloquent • *-3 of the Rockingham party : " When he had executed liis plan, he had not an inch of ground to stand upon. When lie had accomplished his scheme of administration, he was no longer minister." Mr. Burke, desirous to let the public know as much as he knew himself of the cause of the dismission of his friends, drew up in a few hours an original species of party manifesto, " A short account of a late short Administration." It blamed no person, made no lamentations, used no laboured arguments, drew no direct inferences ; but simply stating in as few lines as possible the public measures of the preceding twelve months, left the reader to draw his own conclusions. This of course is, thougli insinuated rather than expressed, in favour of the party he had espoused ; half concealing the cha- racter of a dexterous partizan under that of a calm observer. A sharper skit upon Lord Chatham and his colleagues, in the Public Advertiser, followed in a few days in the form of a comment on the preceding, under the signature of • Horace Walpole, whose polities were of an opposite cast, seems to have had just the same opinion of this popular statesman as a member of Opposition, that Doding'ton had of him as oiie of the Ministry — namely, that it was ditKcuIt or impossible to act with him. Writing to Lord Hert- ford, Jan. 22, 1764, he says, in allusion to the state of the Gren\'iile Ministry, — " For Mr. Pitt, you know he never will act like any other man in Opposition, and to that George Grenville trusts : however, here are such materials that if they co'ild once be put in operation for a lortm^ht to' gether the preset* Aduiiiiistrat:on would bo blown up." 1766. PEOPOSAL pou orricE. 95 Whittington, a tallow-chandler in Cateaton Street. It possesses keen irony and humour, was much read and talked of at the time, and has been always attributed to the same pen. These appear in the Annual Register for 1/66. Another humorous piece given to him is " Ship News for 1765 :" in these the allusions to the chief political characters of the day are happily hit off; and that of Charles Townshend particularly, is in brief, what he afterwards said of him more in detail. Ten days only elapsed after the retirement of his friends, before he set out for his native country. The motives for this retreat, though " free to choose another connection as any man in the country," do honour to his consistency. " To put himself," as he says, " out of the way of the ne- gociations which were then carrying on very eagerly and through many channels with the Earl of Chatham, he went to Ireland soon after the change of Ministry, and did not return until the meeting of Parliament. He was at that time free from anything that looked like an engagement. He was further free at the desire of his friends ; for the very day of his return, the Marquis of Eockiugham wished him to accept an employment under the new system. He believes he might have had such a situation ; but again he cheerfully took his fate with the party." "While in Ireland an efibrt to enlist him into the ranks of ministry was made by the Duke of Grafton to Lord Chatham, then at Bath, in October 1766. The testimony borne to his stability of character even in this early part of his career is worth remembering : — " If the discontented are not in some measure broke into, I do see a strong phalanx of able personages who will give full employment by the business they will raise up. Among those whom I should wish, and Mr. Conway also wishes, to see to support him, is Mr. Burke, the readiest man upon aU points, perhaps, in the whole House. If I mistake not, he was offered the Board of Trade during the last year and de- clined it, aiming at a higher board, or some equivalent. I cannot help saying that I look upon it that he is a most material man to gain, and one on whom the thoroughest de- pendence may be given when an obligation is owned," The reply of the minister two days afterward, while it negatives the proposal, exhibits how far he was behind Burke 96 LIFE OF BUKEE. 1766 in local knowledge of the incapacity of our islands to produce the article (cotton) alluded to, they being then, as now,wholly unfit to supply the demand. " The gentleman your Grace points out as a necessary recruit, I think a man of parts, and an ingenious speaker. As to his notions and maxims of trade, they can never be mine. Nothing can be more un- sound and repugnant to every first principle of manufacture or commerce than the rendering so noble a branch as the cottons dependent for the first materials upon the produce of French and Danish islands instead of British. My engage ment to Lord Lisburne for the next opening at the Board of Trade is already known to your Grace ; nor is it a thing possible to waive for Mr. Burke."* Another allusion to the extent of his political knowledge occurs about this time in a communication from the well known General Lee, Avho took part in the American contest, to the Prince Eoyal of Poland—" An Irishman, Mr. Burke, is sprung up in the House of Commons, who has astonished every body with the power of his eloquence, and his com- prehensive knowledge in all our exterior and internal politics and commercial interests. He wants nothing but that sort of dignity annexed to rank and property in England, to make him the most considerable man in the Lower House." Mrs. Burke, his son, and brother, were with him in the Irish excu.rsion, which continued for three months, visiting Wick- ^ow, Clohir, the little property left by his brother who died in April the preceding year, Cork, Limerick, Galway, and some other places in the southern and western division of that kingdom, not omitting a short visit to Ballitore, the Quaker lady of which he thus pleasantly rallies in a letter from Dublin — " Mrs. Burke gives her love to Mrs. Shackle- ton ; will wear a cap at the time at Ballitore in compliment to her, and it will be as large as she can desire ; and yet will leave her something to observe upon too. For next to finery in a lady herself, the criticism of it in another case is the highest satisfaction that can be ; and this is one way of indemnifying one's self for the plainness of their habits. So much fur you. Mrs. Shackleton, I owe it to you." A portion of his time was devoted to the antiquities and native language of Ireland. Of the latter he knew a little, • From Lord Mahon's valuable History of England, vol. vi. Appendia. 1766. TISIT TO IRELAND. 97 and about five years afterwards communicated to his old college acquaintance Dr. Leland, who was then writing the History of Ireland, two volumes of old Irish manuscripts, containing several of the ancient written laws of that country in an early idiom of the language which he had accidentally discovered in London, on a bookstall. In allusion to the tongue of his native country, he observed in conversation with Johnson, " The Irish language is not primitive ; it is Teutonic ; a mixture of the northern tongues ; it has much English in it." "When the similarity of English and Dutch was mentioned, he added, " I remember having seen a Dutch sonnet in which I found this word, roesnopies. Nobody could at first think this was English ; but when we inquire, we find roes, rose, and nopie, nob. So we have the origin of our word rosebuds." His acquaintance with the filiation of languages was pronounced by several competent judges to be extensive ; a subject M'liich, from his other multifarious occupations might be supposed to have escaped investigation. Among other places visited during this tour, was the town of Loughrea in the county of Galway, in the neighbourhood of which his sister, Mrs. French, resided. His mother was likewise there, having gone from Dublin to wait a domestic event ; and with all the pride of a mother's heart thus describes the visit of her eminent son in a letter to her niece, a Mrs. Henessy.* — "Loughi-ea, Oct. 25th, 1766. " My dear JNelly, — The last post brought me your very agreeable and welcome letter, and I am greatly pleased to hear that you and our friends with you are all well, and am sure it will be vary agreeable to you to hear that poor Julia is doing as well as can be expected. * * * It happened on the evening of the day that her brothers and sister set oft' for Dublin. " I believe I need not tell you tliat my pleasure in having them here, where I kept them constantly in view during the period of their stay, was heartily dashed at parting. All the gentlemen and ladies of this town and neighbourhood made a point to visit them, and they had as many invitations to * From Mr. Havilrtnd Burke; recovered from the repository before BUPiitioned, where with severaJ on mere family affairs they had remained undisturbed more than torty years. M D8 LIFE OF BIJRKE. 1766 dinner, had they thought fit to accept them all, as would have occupied a great many days. Mr. French of Hasan was (absent) in Cork when they came to this country ; but on the morning after his arrival, he, Miss Nagle, Mrs. O'Flaherty, and Miss DriscoU came here, and two days after we were all engaged at Kasan where we dined, and could not well get from thence that night, and it was with much to do that Jane and I could get away. " Mr. French (of Rasan), Ned and Dick went to look at Gralway, and at a great lake which is near to ; as soon as they arrived in the town the bells were set ringing in honour of them. On the Monday following, the Corporation met and voted the freedom of the city to Ned, to be sent to him in a silver box. My dear Nelly, I believe you'll think me very vain, but as you are a mother, I hope you will excuse it. I assure you it is not the honours that are done him which make me vain of him, but the goodness of his heart, than which I believe no man living has a better. I am sure there cannot be a better son, nor I think a better daughter- in-law than his wife. I will say nothing of Dick for you would have no longer patience with me. * * * " This is a very agreeable town to live in, and I believe there is not another in Ireland so small that has in it so many families of fortune as residents. I hope to be in Dublin about the middle of next month, where I shall find a great change from a very good table of two courses, and abroad a coach and six to take the air, to return to a leg of mutton, and otherwise a plain style of living at home and of going abroad. However, I will be as content with the latter as with the former, and will think myself very happy if it pleases God to preserve me the few children I have left alive and well. * * * I have filled my paper, and have only room left to wish you all happiness, and to believe me to be your most aifectionate aunt, " Maet Bueke." While in Loughrea, an anecdote is recorded, illustrative of his habitual good nature, for the authenticity of which Mrs. B., connected vfith a gentleman high in office in Dublin, (1826,) and whose relatives then lived on the spot, vouches. Strolling through the town after an early dinner on a fair or market day, desirous of viewing its agricultural produce, his attention was attracted to a group of children, always a \ 1766. TISIT TO IRELAND. 99 source of interest to him, gazing with intense admiration on the exterior of a kind of puppet-show, or rude theatrical exhibition, to the interior of which there were a variety of invitations for those who had the means to enter. The anxious curiosity, and lamentations of the youthful group of inability to gratify it, induced him to bargain with tlie proprietor for the admission of the whole, when some of his friends coming up at the moment, insisted upon exercising their privilege as his entertainers in paying the whole of the expense. " No, no," said he, " this pleasure must be all my own ; for I shall probably never again have the opportunity of making so many human beings happy at so small a cost." It was another proof of his good sense perhaps as much as of a kind disposition, that he was no croaker against poor human nature, or against the present times, as worse than those which have preceded them. " From the experience which I have had," he remarked, *' and I have had a good deal, I have learned to think better of mankind." It appears that jealousy, in the forms of calumny and de- preciation, had already begun to assad him, and was rarely intermitted during the remainder of his life. Several attacks had appeared in the London newspapers, to which Shackle- ton was induced to reply by giving simply a fair statement of his birth and career. AUuding to this defence, Burke observes to his friend in October 1766 : — " Their purpose was, since they were not able to find wherewithal to except to my character for the series of years since I appeared in England, to pursue me into the closest recesses of my life, and to hunt even to my cradle in hope of finding some blot against me. It was on this principle they set on foot this inquiry. I have traced it as far as Mr. Strcttel, who refuses to let me know from whom in England he received his commission." During this visit a lady of rank in Dublin possessed of some literary talents, is said to have drawn his character in the following lines ; and it may be observed here that his female acquaintance in both countries seemed to join in the same favourable opinion — "With judgment witty, eloquent with sense, Polite with ease, and free without oiience." An anecdote of the same period, illustrative of l^.is jocula? spirit was related by the lata Mr. Lennan of the Irish bar, 100 LITE OF BUEffE. 17G6. to whose remerabiince it was recalled by himself, two or three years before his death, when the memory and pecu- liarities of several of their old friends were brought under review. Mr. Eidge, a barrister and intimate friend of Burke, having invited him and Mr. Lennan to dine, urged, as an irresis- tible inducement, that Foote was to be there, and likewise Mr. Doyle* (a surgeon in Dublin remarkable for wit and humour) between whom he calculated upon a fund of amuse- ment. Mr. Burke however to play a trick upon the English wit, proposed an amendment of the plan; this was to introduce Doyle whom Foote had never seen, in an assumed character, that of a substantial though home-spun Galway farmer, come to town on law business with the host, and who having entered the house at the dinner hour, was obliged in courtesy to be invited to the table ; a hint being dropped to the mimic that the opportunity was not to be lost, as he would be a fine subject for his talents to work upon. The scheme took effect. Foote assailed the pretended farmer as the butt of the company, with his whole artillery of broad- faced mirth, ridicule, mimicry and banter — chuckling with evident satisfaction at his own apparent superiority, and the laughter created against " Squire Ploughshare." The latter acting his part, and submitting with good humour in order to see the full power of his adversary, at length seemed to pluck up spirit to retort, and pretending gradually to assume con- fidence,poured out so much wit and humour on the liead of the actor, that the latter could not conceal his surprise, and almost confessed himself matched ; exclaiming every now and then to his host, " Wliere did you pick up this barn-door genius ?" " Bitter dog !" " Sharp as one of his own sickles !" " Well said for a bumpkin !" and others to the same effect ; nor was he informed who his opponent really was until the moment of separation. The session commencing October 1766, saw the Eocking- ham connection nearly quiescent. The fame of its ablest member however as far as he' thought fit to exert himself, continued to rise. William Burke, writing about this time, says, " Our friend E. B. lias acted all along with so unwearied a worthiness, that tlie world does liim the justice to believe that in his public conduct he has no one view but the public Author of apiece well-known in Iieliind " Daniel O'Rourke's Dream." 1766-67. POSITION IK PAELIAMENT. 101 good." Lord Charlemont shortly afterward thus wrote to Mr. Flood : — " I some time ago sent to Leland an account of our friend Burke's unparalleled success, which I suppose he communicated to you. His character daily rises, and Barre is totally eclipsed by him ; his praise is universal and even the Opposition who own his superior talents, can find nothing to say against him but that he is an impudent fellow. Yesterday a biU was brought into the Commons to exclude the importation of Irish wool from certain ports in England, when Burke supported the cause of Ireland in a most masterly manner, and the biU was rejected." The phrase "impudent fellow," was not wholly jocular, but in fact grounded on a jealousy very general then in the House of Commons and which operated against him for many years, of deeming it a species of presumption in men without private weight to assume a parliamentary lead. In that assembly it appears this spirit displayed itself sometimes. Without, it burst forth continually iu virulent abuse, chiefly in allusion to his being an Irishman — his Jesuitical education, as they would have it, at St. Omer — and his assurance iu at- tempting to controvert the political principles, or to seize the lead from men so much his superiors in station. Such a feeling which would not now be tolerated for a moment, was then perhaps considering the aristocratic structure of even the popular branch of the legislature, scarcely strange. He was not merely new to the House, but in a certain degree new to the country. He was without the essential adjuncts of commanding wealth or high con- nections ; and thence was regarded in the light of one who usurps a station to which he has no proper claim. For it is another of his characteristics in an eventful career, to have been t\ie first who attained under so many disadvantages, to consequence in Parliament and in the country, simply by unaided talents ; and thus to have smoothed the road in the House of Commons for those who have been, and others who may be again, similarly situated. It was a source of no ordinary wonder to all, to see such a man not generally familiar to the political world and without known practice in public business, start at ouce to the highest eminence in that arduous pursuit. It was annoying to many to see their consequence overshadowed, their abili- ties hj the force of coutrast tacitly lessened, and an uttei 102 LIFE OF BURKE. 1766-67. stranger bound at once over their heads from the retirement of private life to the imposing station of a first-rate orator and an accomplished statesman. This success, on considering his extraordinary capacity and acquirements, is not to us so inexplicable as it then seemed to casual observers. Scarcely any one perhaps who ever entered the House of Commons, had laboured 'so dili- gently to qualify himself for the duties of the office he was to fulfil, or united with diligence so much genius and power to profit by his labours. He possessed nothing else to sustain him. His general knowledge was variovis, and of such ready application, that in argument, or in illustration, his resources appeared boundless. He had carefully studied the ancients, and stored up what they knew. From the moderns he had drawn improved principles of law,morals,politics, and science. To these he could add, when bethought proper, the logic and metaphysics of the schools, with the more popular acquire- ments of poetry, history, criticism, and the fine arts. In powers of imagination no orator of any age has approached him ; in prompt command of words, andinvigovir of language, very few ; in felicity, and when he pleased, elegance of dic- tion when he seized the pen, no writer of modern times. He had, in fact, enriched a soil naturally good by such assiduous culture, that it often threatened, and sometimes did bring forth weeds along with the choicest products. All this was accomplished, not in the quiet of affluence, but in the bustle of struggling for an adequate provision in life. " I was not," said he, in his forcible manner, " swaddled, rocked, and dan- dled into a legislator. Nitor in adversum is the motto for a man like me." He was arrived too at the age of thirty-six — a time when this multifarious knowledge was digested and methodized — when the useful had been winnowed from the chaff"; when the mind of a man if ever worth any thing is capable of the most vigorous exertion. It was an age, however, at which as experience has proved, few men — we have not perhaps another instance — who enter Parliament for the first time, are destined to attain the very highest degree of eminence either as orators or men of business. This of itself would distinguish him as an uncommon man. If he ever entertained any doubt on this point himself, it was no •Booner thought of than conquered by an application that 1766-67. AIIECDOTB. 1(© knew no intermission, and a zeal that no obstacle could subdue. Respectable mediocrity as a speaker was as much perhaps as many however high their previous opinion might be could reasonably anticipate for him. To be distinguished in the Senate, the great arena of national talent, is the lot of few. To become great is one of those chances of life confined to genius of a high order. Neither is it likely that he knew the extent of his own energies on first gaining admission there, for it is occasion alone that elicits them from most men ; and those occasions were always at hand in the numerous and extraordinary occurrences of the late reign. His rhetorical efforts were aided in an eminent degree by a tenacious memory, which made almost every thing once embraced by it a permanent acquisition. This perhaps is one of the most valuable gifts of nature to an orator. It will always supply him with matter, with words, and not unfrequently with wisdom. Men vary in this respect very much. It is the delight of many to read much and to read attentively ; but it is in the power of very few to retain what they have learnt with accuracy, or to draw it out in a popular manner, or on popular topics, so as to enliven or illustrate their discourse. No man possessed this faculty in a more eminent degree than him of whom we speak, and of the strength of his recollection on more recondite subjects, the following from high authority is a striking instance. A relative* of Burke having called many years ago upon the late Chief Baron Richards wlien at the bar to consult him, the attention of the latter became diverted by the name to the memory and to the praises of the orator ; and as soon as he understood the relationship existing between him and his client, after a warm eulogy on his powers, mentioned the following anecdote as having come within his own knowledge. Having dined at a party where among others were the Irish orator and an Archdeacon of Brecon whose name is not remembered, the latter who was a man of considerable learning and antiquarian research, started several subjects of conversation so unusual, that few of his hearers felk ♦ Mr. Haviland Burke. 104 IIFE OF BUKKE. 17(37. inclined or qu&.ified to accompany him. Mr. Burke re- mained silent for some time, until in the midst of a fluent detail of some of the operations of Csesar in Britain, he stopped the relater short by pointiog out a material error as to facts, which changed the whole complexion of the story. The clergyman bowed, without making any reply. One of the more obscure Latin authors formed the next topic of discussion, in a quotation from whom the same critic again, corrected him as to two or three words, which was received with the same silent acquiescence. A third subject of debate was an old and very scarce volume containing some curious geographical details, with which also he very successfully displayed his acquaintance to the surprise of the company. At the conclusion of the evening, Mr. Richards and the Archdeacon walked home together. "Sir," observed the former, " I admired your patience when so repeatedly, and I dare say unnecessarily, interrupted by our eminent fellow guest ; for from the nature of your studies you must be a more competent judge of such matters than the bustle of politics can permit him to be." " Mr. Burke was never- theless right, and I was wrong," replied the Archdeacon : " nay more ; I confess I went previously prepared to speak on those subjects, for knowing that I was to meet him and hearing that he was acquainted with almost every thing, I had determined to put his knowledge to the test, and for this purpose had spent much of the morning in my study. My memory however proved more treacherous than I had imagined." Before the prorogation in July, an oifer is said to have been made him by the Duke of Grafton, now rendered by circumstances more independent of Lord Chatham, of a seat at the Treasury ; but clogged with stipulations to which he refused to accede. A hint of this seems to be dropped by himself in a letter to Barry. "The measures since pursued, both with regard to men and things liave been so additionally disagreeable, that I did not think myself free to accept any thing under this Administra- tion." A negociation for the main body of the Rocking- ham party to join the ministry soon followed, but came to nothing, "because," says he in another letter, " it was not found practicable with honour to undertake a task 1767. VISITS. 105 like that until people imderstood one another a little better, and can be got to a little cooler temper, and a little more fair dealing." In February 1767, Eichard Burke, who seemed to linger as much as possible at home rather than fill the Grrenada appoint- ment, wrote thus aflfectionately of his brother. " Now, my dear friend, you expect some account of Ned. In one word then (I shall use twenty) he is as well in health as you would wish ; a little more jovial than you would approve ; and not quite as rich as you would desire or perhaps expect. What he has is his own ; he owes the public nothing, whatever the public may owe him. Indeed the public is just to him iu one thing, let the rest come when it will. * * * It is just to his character. For honour, for integrity, and for ability, no man ever stood higher in pubHc estimation in this kingdom, and I will say — but it is to you that I am speaking — no man ever better deserved it." During the summer he had a visit from the Nagles and other Irish relatives. To these hewas enabled to shewsome farming improvements through his ft'iends,aijd afterwards rallied them pleasantly upon some ill success in Irish schemes as promis- ing to be like the ingenious farmers in Gulliver — with a great deal of knowledge of agriculture, but no crops. ^ — He paid a visit himself of some length to Lord Rockingham in York- shire, with whom a constant confidential correspondence was kept up on public aftairs until the death of that nobleman. A visit was likewise paid by him, along with Admiral Keppel, to the Duke of Eichmond at Goodwood ; and another to the Duke of Newcastle at Claremont, who had now learned to display great respect for his conduct and talents. On the opening of the session November 1707, he broke ground against the ministry in an impressive speech, con- demning their general conduct and happily ridiculing General Conway's lamentations for the recent death of Charles Townshend and the loss of his projected plans for the public good ; which were rather absurdly stated as likely to remove the difficulties of the country, though none of his colleagues knew what they were. This step indicated irreconcileable differences of opinion, and in fact some resentment between the Ministry and the Eockingham party. Three meetings to effect a junction between them had taken place iu vain. Lord Chatham ia 106 LIFE OF BUEKB- 17G8. Kaid to have resorted to what was considered unfair meana while ot^aers attribute these means to tlie Duke of Grafton, to separate the friends of the Marquis from those of the Duke of Newcastle, though unsuccessfully, and to which he alluded when he said the motto of ministry was Divide et Impera. The Bedford party, however, proved more compliant to the wishes of his Lordship and his Grrace than the Eocking- hams ; and in a fortnight afterwards they coalesced, forming what was called the Grafton Administration. The Nullum Tempus Bill ; the distresses produced by the high price of provisions ; the restraining act relative to the India Com- pany ; and a few other minor topics, occupied Mr. Burke the first part of the session. In March 1768, Parliament was dissolved, the new one meeting in May, when he was again returned for Wendover. About the same time he purchased, for above .£20,000, a small estate and agreeable residence since burnt down, named Gregories, near Beaconsfield in Buckinghamshire ; the expense being increased by being obliged against his inclina- tion to take the seller's collection of pictures and marbles, as appears by a letter written in July to Barry the painter. Of this purchase he writes soon afterwards to Shackleton — " I have made a push with all I could collect of my own and the aid of my friends to cast a little root into this country. I have purchased a hovise with six hundred acres of land in Buckinghamshire, twenty-four miles from London, where I now am (May 1st.) It is a place exceedingly pleasant ; and I propose, God willing, to become a farmer in good earnest." How the money was procured to effect the purchase men- tioned in this letter, has given rise to many surmises and reports. A part undoubtedly was his own, the bequest of his elder brother, and some portion is believed came from William Burke. The remainder was to have been raised upon mortgage, when the Marquis of Rockingham hearing of his intention, voluntarUy oifered the loan of the amount required to complete the purchase. It has been said that he even tendered a larger sum, which the delicacy of his friend declined to receive, accepting only what was absolutely necessary ; and this upon condition of being repaid the first opportunity. That moment never arrived. "While the waveror or change- ling, the coy Whig or doubtful Tory, seized upon such op* 1768. PURCHASE or greooeies. 107 portunities as offered for advanciug their personal interests, Burke remained stable in his opinions and therefore un- prosperous. By consistency he closed the door of office against himself, and thus repaid in principle to his patron what he was indebted in money. The termination of the affair is told by a delicate hint from the noble suc- cessor of the Marquis, written amidst a burst of grief immediately after his death, July 3, 1782:— "I must re- collect myself. It was my duty to have informed you that certain bonds are cancelled by a codicil of his will. He felt merit as he ought to have done, and he never did an action in his life more acceptable to your sincere friend, " TlTZWILLIAM." Honourable as the transaction was to the friendship and delicacy of both, the ingenuity of party abuse has converted it into an attack upon the integrity of the person most obliged. Tet the Marquis was undoubtedly under obligations to him, both publicly as exponent of his policy, and for some atten- tion paid to tlie business of his large estates in Ireland when in that country two years before. Less disinterested men indeed would have settled the matter otherwise — the one by quartering his friend, the other by being quartered, on the public purse. To the honour of both a different course was pursued ; and admitting that the money was never re- claimed, it did not produce a third part of the annual income which the Whig party with great consideration and liberality presented to Mr. Fox before quitting him in 1794. The aspect of affairs on the opening of the session of 1768 seemed not a little threatening. Eemonstrances, peti- tions, and non-importation agreements, seconded by strong private representations to men of influence here, daily arrived from America. These, on the motion for the address, brought out some severe comments from Mr. Burke, on the conduct of Ministers to that country ; their passiveness on the invasion of Corsica ; and on some other popular topics of the time. Another conspicuous and constitutional effort was on the injustice, sanctioned by a new bill, of bringing Americans guilty of treason in their own country to Eng- land for trial. Lord Chatham at length resigned. With difficulties thick- ening round the Ministry, an old and troublesome political performer, scarcelv less a source of alarm to his friends th;ia 108 LIFE 0? BURKE. 1769. to his enemies, appeared upon the scene. This was Mr. Wilkes, again reduced tn his last shilling, who, thriving by no other trade but patriotism, found it necessary to invite persecu- tion in order to extract money ; and suddenly appearing from Italy as candidate for London, and then for Middlesex though witb an outlawry hanging over his head, unexpectedly gained the election. The vacillation of Government, the legal proceedings, riots, and general ferment which ensued, require no other notice here than for the employment they gave Mr. Burl^e and Mr. Grenville, the leaders of the two divisions of Opposition, who agreeing in this, had few other points of union. The question of the patriot's expulsion, so me- morable in the histoiy of the country, was carried against the strenuous exertions of both, 3rd of February 1769. A motion for an inquiry into the riot in St. George's fields, by the former, was negatived by a great majority. Wilkes's affairs, America, seditious libel, the civil list. East India afiairs, and others, afforded him fruitful themes for every week of the session ; and, along with several other gentle- men of Buckinghamshire, he presented a petition to the King at the levee, against the decision of the House of Commons. Toward the close of it, an argument on the taxation of tlie colonies occurred between him and Mr. Grenville, which evinced that the latter, with four years' ex- perience, had gained no increase of wisdom on the impru- dence and impracticability of that measure. "He behaves," says Dr. Franklin writing of that gentleman shortly before, " as if a little out of his head on the article of America, which he brings into every debate without rhyme or reason ; tiring every body, even his own friends, with harangues about and against America." An appeal likewise by Mr. Grenville from the majority m Parliament to the country generally through the medium of the press which shortly followed brought the rival leaders more immediately before the public. It was in a pamphlet entitled, "The Present State of the Nation," written either by himself or by Mr. Knox, a former secretary of his, under his eye; and which, without formally mentioning names, was designed to praise his own and Lord Bute's measures, and censure those of Lord Rockingham. f he reply of Burke, in " Observations " on this pro- I 1 769 juNiTis. 109 duction, h:5 first avowed political pamphlet and little inferior to any that followed it, displayed the danger of attacking one who was so thoroughly master of his subject and his weapons. In this piece he convicts his opponent of inconclusive reason- ing, of inaccuracy in many of his statements, and of ignorance as to facts and details on the great principles of commerce and revenue on which Mr. Grenville particularly plumed himself. Altogether the exposure here made, gives us a strong impression what a poor figvire an active minister and debater in the House of Commons may make with his pen. A remarkable passage in this pamphlet on the then financial condition of France of which Mr. Grenville seemed to know little, illustrates what took place twenty years afterwards, and exhibits the length of view which his more gifted adversary applied to this as to most other subjects.* About this time Junius broke forth upon the English world with a vigour and rancour never surpassed, and from under a mask which has never been penetrated. From the first, he seems to have excited no less wonder in political than admiration in many literary circles. Audacious beyond all precedent ; im scrupulous yet with an air of fairness ; a lofty tone ; keen discernment ; familiar seemingly with public men and aftairs ; well informed upon private matters which were chiefly known in the higher splieres of life ; argumentative when he thought proper ; and with powers of invective wholly unrestraiued, his successive publications were looked to with unusual interest as having something to reveal, or some public delinquent to denounce. To many literary men he appeared a master in his ai't. Elegant, or aiming at elegance in style ; powerful in language ; concise, terse, bitter or sarcastic as occasion required ; no words thrown away and few superfluous ones introduced ; 'similes of some novelty and figui'es of more or less force ; he placed the powers of our language in a new and forcible light He wrote fearlessly because he wrote anonymously. Like a meteor he gleamed in the political horizon ; and like other * " Under such extrtmie straitness and distraction, labours the whole body of tlieir finances, so far does their charjre outrun their supply in evei-y particular, that no man, I believe, who has considered their attiiird with any degree of attention or iiitbrniation, but must hourly look for Bome fxtraordinarj' convulsion in that wliole system ; ihe ejf\ct» oj' which en Fi vice, and even on all £'uroj;T, it is dijficnlt to conjcvturt." 110 IIFE or BUEKE. 1760 meteors, having excited the gaze of wondering spectators for a season, disappeared in illimitable space. None knew, or has accurately ascertained, whence he came or whither he went. Universal opinion fixed at once upon Burke as the author. Conversations, pamphlets, letters, paragraphs, and occasional caricatures arrived simultaneously at that decision. All his enemies — and the accusation alone made many — Lord Mans- field among others — told him so. All his friends, if they did not hint their opinion, fully believed it ; and among these Dr. Johnson, until a spontaneous disavowal undeceived him. None else was supposed capable of wielding a pen of so much ability, or of exhibiting such perfect knoivledge of the men and measures of the time. The extent of abuse poured upon him in consequence, will surprise any reader who may have the courage — as it has been my duty — to wade through the newspapers of the day — and however suspicion wavered for a time over other claimants, it returned again and again to him, until the announcement of the evidence touching Sir Philip I'rancis. In the first edition of this work however I thought it ne- cessary to state the circumstances supposed to implicate Mr. Burke. I was quite aware of his own constant denials. I knew that he had done so to all his friends ; spontaneously to many. I was informed that he had repeatedly done the same in letters to various persons who had deemed them- selves authorised to put the question, and among others, in 1771, "on his word and honour" to Mr. Charles Town- shend,* and Dr. Markham, then Bishop of Chester. I was quite sure that the Marquis of Hockingham with whom he was so intimately linked, never would have permitted such things to appear ; and without his privity it was equally certain that from real respect for him, as well as from kindlier feelings and prudential motives, he Would never have entered upon a course of such envenomed hostility. I knew that he had attributed the success of Junius to what he called " the instrumental part of writing," that is style — in fact that manner, not matter, had made him what he was. In the second edition I became still more satisfied that there was no solid foundation for the charge. Others, his • Son of Jlr. Thomas Townshend, afterwards Lord Sydney, whom Boldsmitb has commemorated. 1709. JTHNIUS. Ill relatives, thought differently, and behaved they coi.ld add many details to the circumstances of suspicion. To these I thought it fair on a disputed point to give place, though with an intimation as to my own opinion.* But the publication of the Grenville papers has set the question at rest for ever as regards him. The anonymous hero, in his private letters to Mr. George Grenville, fairly offers himself to him as a thorough partizau. He is, he Bays, attached to him and to liim alone ; esteems his spirit and understanding ; is devoted to his views as far as he can ascertain what these views and opinions are ; he has been writing for two years past or more, a multitude of papers in addition to those of Lucius, Atticus and others in support of his character and measures ; he owns to being unknown and unconnected ; at a proper time he wiU disclose himself ; has a great desire to be honoured with his notice, but must wait till he is Minister ; he will not be a troublesome depeuT dant ; and again disclaims connection with any party. Not a point here applies to the subject of this me- moir. Familiarly known to George Grenville ; opposed to him continually in the House of Commons ; dissenting from nearly all his views ; exposing his errors in the pamphlet just mentioned (1769) ; the leading organ of the Eock- inghams, and therefore closely connected with party ; and who in the "multitude of papers" alluded to, was himself frequently the subject of censure and depreciation ; who possessed too high a spirit to solicit to become the dependant of any one ; whose own position in public opinion was at least equal to that of the gentleman ad- dressed —added to the manner in which he speaks of him in confidential letters to Lord Kockinghain — all these render it utterly impossible ever again to connect his name seriously with that of Junius. Mr. Burke spent the recess at Gregories in superintending the repairs and alterations of his house ; and in attention to rural business proved as active a farmer as any in the country, being often in the fields in a morning as soon as his labourers. This he described as luxury after the noise, heat, and drudgery of the House of Commons. In town he • " If circumstantial evidence have material weight in any instance, it is difficult to believe, from the details some time ayo published, that Sir Philip Francia was not the man." 112 LIFE OF BURKE. usually had a temporary residence during the sitting of par- liament, sometimes in the Broad Sanctuary, Fiudyer Street, Charles Street, Duke Street, 37, Gerrard Street, and some others. He had intended, he told Shackleton, a journey to Italy at tliis period, but found too many occupations at home. Amid many other engagements, added to the labours of politics, a more humble friend was not forgotten. His pro- tection of Barry has been already noticed. The moment his own means became extended by being connected with Administration, he recommended him, seconded by the advice of lleynolds, to go to Italy for improvement, and with William Burke, offered to the best of their power to maintain him while there till he had copied or studied the great masters. The painter set out in October 1765, and remained abroad above five years. During the whole of this time he earned nothing for himself, and received no supplies from any other quarter than his two generous friends, wdio fulfilled their promises amid serious difiiculties and claims of tlieir own, in which William in one of his letters was obliged to confess, that "cash was not so plentiful as lie could wish." A fact of this kind, so rarely imitated by rank or wealth, speaks more for the heart than any formal panegyric, though it is only one instance among many of the benevolence of the subject of this work. Barry felt the weight of his obligations. Of Dr. Sleigh, he said, " He first put me upon Mr, Burke, who has been, under Grod, all in all to me." Writing to the Doctor himself, he says, " To your goodness T owe Mr. Bui-ke and his family, which, in one word, is owing you all that is essential to me." To Mr. Burke he writes, " I am your property." And again, " You outrht surely to be free with a man of your own making, who has found in you fathei", brother, friend, every thing."* • This artist wns not the only instance of his benevolence and friend- 8hip whenever circiimstiinces placed it in his power to be of service. Barrett, also an Irishman, had fallen into difficulties by the improvidence too frequently attendant on g-enins, and the fact coming' to the ears of Mr. Burke in 1782, durin;,'' his short tenure of power, he bestowed upon him a place in Chelsea Hospital, which was enjoyed for the remainder of his life. Mr. Young gives the following' account of this artist, appended to a land- scape of his in Sir Jolin F. Leicester's g'allery : — " The first notice of the pictures of this artist that appears on record is his obtaining from the Society of Arts a premium of 50 guineas. He was considered the best landscape painter of the time he lived in : and although the patrons of ui t 1769. GAEBICK. 113 Frequent correspondence witt their protege was maintained by the family, chiefly however through the medium of William, as being less occupied in business ; but occasionally with Edmund, who addresses him wdth the affection of a brother, and whose remarks and admonitions are so fine in themselves, and display such an intimate acquaintance with the arts and with the world, couched in an eloquent style, that it would be a crime equally against his reputation, and the enjoyment of the reader, not to give a few of the principal letters from him which will be found in another place. A close intimacy had existed for some years with Garrick, to whom as we have seen, confidential communications were made ; and he and his wife invited to frequent visits in the country. — "Tou first," Burke -wTites, " sate yourself with wit, jollity, and luxury, and afterwards retire hither to repose your person and understanding on early hours, boiled mutton, drowsy conversation, and a little clabber milk." In June of this year, some pressing necessity compelled him to solicit a loan from his friend. — "My dear Grarrick, — I make no apology for asking a favour from you, because you need make none in refusing it. I wish then that you would let me have a thousand pounds upon my bond until this time twelvemonth. I shall at that time, possibly before, be able to discharge it, and will not fail to do so. I am with great truth and affection, dear Garrick, most sincerely yours, Edm. Burke." Whether the money was lent does not appear. The actor's usual address in reply was " Carissimo mio Edmundo.^' Burke had been obliged to refuse a public request of his sliortly before, from its being against the wishes of his constituents. But soon afterwards sent him the following pleasant and well expressed note, now in my possession, as a tacit apology for the refusal. — "(Aiig-iist, 1769.) " Dear Garrick, — I send you a Rosa sera, a late turtle — an entertainment at least as good for the palate as the other cannot be accused of not duly appreciating his merits, yet after a .ong and successful career almost ■without a rival, partly from a liberiility or dis- position, and an indulg'ence in expensive habits, he was not enricnea uy his professional labours. " His merits were recognized by the Royal Academy, of wiiieh he was elected a member ; and during the latter part of bis life he enjoyed an appointment in Chelsea Hospital, givea to him by his friend and patrou, £draund Burke. I 114 LIFE OF BTJEKE. 1709. for the nose. Tour true epicureans are of opinion you know, that it contains in itself all kinds of flesh, fish, and fowl. It is therefore a dish fit for one who can represent all the solidity of flesh, the volatility of fowl, and the oddity offish. As this entertainment can be found no longer any where but at your table, or at those tables to which you give conviviality and cheerfulness, let the type and shadow of the master grace his board. A little pepper he can add himself. The wine likewise he vrill supply ; I do not know whether he still retains any friend who can finish the dressing of his turtle by a gentle squeeze of the lemon. Our best regards to Madam. Ever, dear Garrick, most faithfully yours, Edm. Bueke." •' Westminster, Tuesday. One day before the meeting' of the that g-ives the finishing' sti'oke." His correspondence with political friends was at this time, and indeed all his life, extensive ; his conversations with men of all parties no less so ; his farming pursuits — crops of carrots, turnips, and wheat — boasted of with all the glee of a mind wholly devoted to the employment. With the Duke of Portland he had formed a friendship as well as wdth the Duke of Eichmond. Lord Temple and George Gren villa made overtures towards a visit ; and soon after, when stopping at Lord Verney's, he went over to Stowe of which an account was written to Lord Rockingham, in which also we find a curious sketch of Lord Chatham's parade in travelling. — " I ought to tell you that Lord Chatham passed by my door on Friday morning, in a jimwhiskee, drawn by two horses, one before the other ; he drove himself. His train was two coaches and six, with twenty servants, male and female. He was proceeding with his whole family (Lady Chatham, two sons and two daughters,) to Stowe." He com- plains jocularly of the vicinity of a news-printer, who out of the marriage of "an old man that milks my cows, and the old dairy maid, has made a flaming paragraph ;" and dreading some ridicule from the account of this simple afiair, sent him a message to beg ofi" any notice of his family afiaira in future in the newspaper.* • This paragraph I had seen and copied long- before this allusion to it vns published. Young' Burke and a small procession of domestics acv.ou- |>;i!iied the couple. 1770. ^AE/.IAMENTAET LAB0U23. 115 CHAPTER Y. Mr. Burke and Sir William Ba^ott— Mr. Fox — Pamphlet on the Dis- contents — Parliamentary Business — Visit to France — Chai-acter of the House of Commons — Mr. Burke's argument against taxing Irish Absen- tees — Letter to General Lee — Speech of the 19th of April, 1774 — Goldsmith — Ill-humour of Barry — Johnson and Burke — Election for Bristol. The address, in reply to the speech from the throne, the City remonstrance to the King, the condition of Ireland, the affairs of Mr. Wilkes, the state of Boston and the King's troops, and the discontents which generally prevailed, brought Mr. Burke forward almost daily in the session commencing 9th January, 1770, although few details are preserved. His more distinguished exertions were on the 24th January, for a redress of grievances previous to granting a supply : on the 15th March, regarding the famous address, re- monstrance, and petition of the City of London to the King, which he discussed with moderation and temper, aiming to apologize for the warmth of the popular feeling : on the 28th March, in favour of the boimty on the expor- tation of corn : on the 30th March, in support of Mr. Grren- ville's biU for regulating the trials of controverted elections, when he was represented by the writers of the time as having on those occasions spoken " inimitably well." On the 8th May, he moved eight resolutions, supported by Mr. G. GrenviUe, relating to the disorders in North America, which were meant to censure the plan, or rather as he said the unhappy want of plan of Ministers, in con- ducting the affairs ol' that country ; and introduced by a speech occupying two hours in dehvery, reported by contem- porary opinion, to be " fuR of sound argument, and infinite wit and raillery." In fact, all his exertions were characterized as being of this description, though from the hostility of the House at that time to the publication of their debates, the particulars like those of other speeches are not given, or given so meagrely as to afford little idea of what they were in delivery. A tolerable criterion of the powers of a speaker in the House at that period, was the degree of abuse cast upon him by anonymous wr.ters of the opposite party ; and of this 116 LITE or BrRKE. 1770, ungracious species of reputation to which allusion has been already made, he had no ordinary share. The prejudice which it occasionally created against him, even among per- sons who ought to have known better, may be judged of from the following circumstance: — In the debate on the third reading of Mr. Granville's bill for regulating controverted elections, which Lord Worth, Mr. JFox and the Ministry opposed. Sir William Bagott, who usually voted with the latter, said he must on that measure, side with Opposition ; not from the slightest par- tiality to that body, for its whole system in his opinion, went to wound the constitution through the sides of the Ministry. He concluded by insinuating something about the body with which he was chiefly connected (the country gentlemen) being the only one of real importance or con- sideration in that House, and to whom the first and chief attention should be paid. Mr. Burke, as the mouth-piece of the party, was not likely to let such declarations escape without notice. He entered on a vigorous defence of his friends ; drew a fine distinction be- tween faction, and the opposition of party founded on principle. He proceeded to show that Parliament was not meant to be a rej^resentation of the lauded property only as the preceding speaker seemed to beheve, but of the com- mercial interest in an equal or still greater degree, as appeared from the establishment of boroughs — essential parts of that representation, in times earlier than any annals or history could trace; that there never was any parliament from which gentlemen of the long robe were excluded, except that one, infamous to a proverb, in the appellation which it acquired of parliamentum indoctum. He went on to compare the benefit derived to society from the unactuated load of landed abilities, which descended from generation to generation, to that derived from the acquirements, improvements, and activity of mental superiority ; and showed that either alone might be pernicious, yet that both were of real benefit wherever and whenever they mixed, but always more so when acting in aid of each other. The pleasantry with which this topic was handled, as well perhaps as the general tone of the argument, irritated Sir William to a violent degree, insomuch that he went down to the House two days after and gave loose to a most un* I 1770. 8IR ^riLLIAM BAGOTT. 117 measured invective against what he termed his "traducer," designating him indirectly a " black Jesuit," " a pupil of St. Omer's," fit to be " secretary to an inquisition for burning heretics." Mr. Burke, who on these occasions preserved great equanimity of temper, smiled frequently during thia tirade ; and on its conclusion, assailed him again witli a tor- rent of ridicule, which it is said the baronet never forgave. On another occasion, a considerable time after this, Sir William preserved more temper, and came off with better success. Mr. Burke having spoken at considerable length, made a long pause, a thing rather unusual with him, which induced the baronet, who rose to follow him in the debate, to think he had ended. — " Sir, I have not yet concluded," said Mr. Burke. — " I beg pardon," replied Sir William with good humour, "but the honourable member can make allowance for the mistakes of a country gentleman ;" addiug with great happiness, a quotation to the effect that being no more than a rustic, he conceived the stream of eloquence had ceased, but though it seemed wholly inexhaustible, it might probably prove tiresome. — It frequently happened, however, that the baronet came under the sarcastic lash of his more ready and dexterous opponent. Sir William Bagott indeed was not the only one who thought that the importance and wisdom of a senator ought to depend on the amount of the stake he possesses in the land. Lord Crewe told Mr. Haviland Burke a pleasant story of a very opulent Liverpool trader, who having in- vested a large sum in the purchase of estates, expressed the height of his ambition to be to have a park as large as that of the Duke of Bedford. Calling upon his lordship one day, at a time when from some matter of political interest Mr. Burke's name was on every tongue, and in every newspaper, he exclaimed in a broad, vulgar, self-sufficient manner — "And after all, who is this Mr. Burke, my Lord, tliat they make such a fuss about ? Why, he's nobody. — He has not got our number of acres, my Lord." The unmeasured abuse cast upon him, induced Sliackleton, then in London, to draw up a fair sketch of his character for the public, which was printed in April in tlie London Evening Post. This gave him great offence. He wi'ote u most angry letter, stating that his table and bed, hitherto sacred, had been for the first time wantonly forced before the public ; hia life or conduct required no defence ; he was accus- 118 LIFE OF BUEKE. 17'0. tomed to libels daily and twice a day ; and it was great im- prudency or worse in others to notice such things, as be never descended to do so himself. A deprecatory letter followed from his well-intentioned but unlucky friend. In May he rejoined by an apology for the hastiness of temper shewn in his last letter ; the oflence was forgiven and forgotten ; adding that he is " liable to spurts of passion ; sometimes quick to offend, but ready to atone."* A circumstance, which subsequent events made of interest, took place in the debate on the address this session when Mr. Charles Fox, in almost his first parliamentary essay, attempting to answer the objections of the Rockingham party had some of his arguments successfully turned into ridicule by its leader. No offence was taken by the young orator. He had been taught some time before by the literary society at his father's table^ to think highly of the talents of Mr. Burke. He had kno'mi him personally since 1766, at the age of seventeen or as Burke once said fourteen ; and they had been intimate for about two years ; and in 1769 he paid a visit to Gregories. Further acquaintance insured to the latter that admiration from his younger friend, which all who knew him intimately involuntarily felt. From an admirer of Burke, Mr. Fox became his disciple ; from his disciple his coadjutor ; from his coadjutor an amicable rival for fame ; until at length, by the occurrence of extraordinary and unlooked-for events, they terminated as they began, in being opponents. Of this celebrated man it is unnecessary to speak at length, and perhaps difficult to draw a very faithful character with- out giving oflence to devoted friends, or gratifying the spleen of political adversaries. Of powers the most commanding, and parliamentary talents very extraordinary, he did not often exemplify, either in public or private life, the possession of that sound prudence and practical wisdom which insure public confidence. Something of this was owing to natural disposition ; something perhaps to parental indulgence, which left him in the most critical period of life wholly un- controlled. His mind, manly even in youth, seemed to have reached maturity at a bound. Between the boy and the statesman there was scarcely an interval. But there accom- * It is remarkable that Shackleton makes the mistake in this paper, of calling Mrs. Burke a Roman Catholic. This was wholly as already stated incorrect ; be merely iut'erred it from the faith of her I'aihei. 1770. CHAKLES JAMES FOX. 119 panied this early precocity an utter disregard of self-disci- pline and control, verging to absolute tyranny of the passions over the judgment. The very excess of dissipated habits, his neglect of the observances of common life, his indifference to private character which even in his most popular days made nim an object of distrust to the reflecting part of the nation, all indicated an ill-regidated mind. It is said as an ad- ditional proof of it, that he neglected too commonly the per- formance of religious duties. If so, who but must sincerely regret so great a misfortune ? If such be the inevitable result of early debauchery upon the character, it is, indeed, a heavy sentence upon frail humanity. Yet his virtues were of the first cast. He was afiectionate, mild, generous, friendly, and sincere ; thus obscuring his errors so effectually that scarcely one of his friends could see them, or for a moment admit the uncharitable interpretation often put upon them by the world. Few men in public life, except perhaps the Irish orator, have had more political enemies though in private perhaps not one. We might be displeased with the politician, but it was scarcely possible to hate the man. There was a good-natured, almost culpable, facility about his character when popularity was in question, which he often avowed he loved dearly, that frequently brought him into the society, and sometimes under the influence, of persons not only of inferior talents, but of questionable principles and views. Without any community of ill-feeling with these, or with the enemies of our consti- tution and government, it must be confessed that he occa- sionally gave such persons his countenance so as to alarm the more cautious, the more circumspect, or more timid part of the public. This was one of his many sacrifices to vulgar applause ; made at a time when it became necessary to strengthen his few remaining adherents by allies oF every description. The same facility made him, in the opinion of many, a dupe to the plausibility of Buonaparte, in 1802 and 1806, and at the former period, caused him to admit to his table in France a convicted Irish traitor, fresh from carrying arms against his country. The extraordinary powers which he possessed were chiefly from nature, and in debate he often seemed to depend upoc them alone, without considting the surer guide of experience. He possessed as may be supposed, infinitely more of ingenuity 120 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1770. than of knowledge ; more of immediate and spontaneous thought than of the fruits of patient research ; more of de- cision than of reflection. He was more acute than dis- criminating ; on most public matters self-willed through life ; obstinately attaclied to his own opinions, and undervaluing though not offeusively, those of the rest of mankind. He was heard to say in the earlier part of his career that " he liad never wished to do anything which he did not do," and that " he considered advice an insult to his understanding," In conversation he was backward and sluggish, seldom rising above mediocrity ; in epistolary communication, com- mon place ; in historical writing, slow and laborious, neither profound nor original. In debate alone he often rose above all competition especially in bursts of indescribable power ; but as an orator taken in the higher and more extended sense of the word, whose outpourings are worthy to live in the page of history and in the admiration of posterity, he was on all great occasions much excelled by Burke. He had no command over the passions or imaginations of his hearers, and without this power an orator never can be at the head of his art. The bent of his mind in politics was to great things rather than to the more common ; to what was imposing and theoretically perfect, rather than to what was useful and applicable. He cauglit eagerly at the bold and the splendid ; at daring novelties and plausible gene- ralities without sufficiently considering, or caring for, the difficulties opposed to their being carried into effect. No one knew men better in every-day life ; but he did not so well know man, when placed in uncommon and untried situations. A remarkable distinction between him and Burke was. that the latter, though educated like a philosopher ana often teaching with the wisdom of one, rejected all theory opposed to experience in treating of the practical business of the state. While Fox, brought up as a man of the world and always declaiming as such, appeared in practice often inclined to play the mere philosopher. Though equally grand in his views, he had not the same knowledge, the same caution, the same penetration as Burke, to foresee their results. What he clearly saw, no man could better describe, but his eye did not take in the whole moral horizon. He was impatient of that labour of meditation and of calculation 1770. CHARLES JAMES FOX. 121 •whicli distiuguished his celebrated friend and far-seeing instructor in all great emergencies. His political life must be considered a failure, inasmuch as he attained for no time that power for which he had in a long career contended. He accomplished no one great measure of public policy. His name is attached to nothing that we care to remember. The credit of opposing the American war he took up chiefly from Burke as principal, and as pointing out the way for him to pursue, added to his constant teaching and prompting on the subject. So on the question of the French Revolution, the next great measure of his life. There he was overpowered by the superior judgment and genius of the latter, both at the moment of contest and ultimately in the more statesman-like views taken of it by his old master. - — He was in consequence at that time left a leader almost without a party, a general without an army ; public opinion ba\'ing then and ever since cast the strongest reflections on his political wisdom and general conduct in that momentous crisis. Much also has been said of his early opposition to the cause of America ; to that of the dissenters ; to that of Mr. Wilkes ; to the rights of Juries ; and in fact to every popular topic between the years 1769 and 1774. So of his coalitions, his sacrifices sometimes to popularity, sometimes to obtain party superiority, as indicative of continual inconsistencies of conduct ; and that in fact Lord North made him a patriot by dismissing him with circumstances of personal indignity in 1774, from being a Lord of tlie Treasury. Let it be remembered however that he was then young ; neither let us press public men too hardly on the point of seeming inconsistency. They are believed by the people to sin in that respect much more than they themselves can admit, and more than they themselves conscientiously believe. The reason seems to be that the change or modification of opinion proceeds in their minds gradually and imperceptibly to its completion ; while to the public who know nothing of the operation going on, it comes suddenly and unexpectedly. Yet we may ask is there any point on which a statesman may not conscientiously think differently at different times ? Is there any one who has all his life, in office and out of office, expressed precisely the same sentiments upon all the eame subjects ? Is there a man of any description whose opinions on many topics, have not at some period of his life 122 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1770 changed ? He who says the contrary deceives himself, or wishes to deceive others. The human mind does not start into maturity at once, armed at all points like Minerva from the head of Jupiter. It is progressive in the attainment of wisdom ; and though the last actions of our lives may not be the wisest, there is as little doubt that men generally, as they advance in life, become wiser.* The transitions of Burke from the contentions of public, to the kindly feelings of private life, are delightful to follow ; and to omit the following appeal in favour of a poor and distressed, to an angry and richer relative, would be to sin against all the charities of the heart. It is addressed to his cousin Garret, shortly before this time — and there were many such letters from him. " About two months ago your brother James called upon me ; until then, I knew nothing of his having been in London. He was extremely poor, in a bad state of health, and with a wife, to all appearance as wretched and as sickly as he, and big with child into the bargain. It was evident enough that with his epileptic distemper, he was very unfit to get his bread by hard labour. To maintain them here would be very heavy to me ; more indeed than I could bear, with the very many other calls I have upon me, of the same as well as of other kinds. So I thought the better way would be to send them back to their own county, where by allow- ing them a small matter, we might enable them to live. My brother was of the same opinion ; so we provided them for the journey homewards ; and nothing but the hurry I men- tioned, prevented my desiring you to give him on my ac- count wherewithal to buy some little furniture and a couple of cows. I then thought to have allowed him ten pounds a year. His wife told me that with a little assistance she could earn something; and thus it might be possible for them to subsist. " This day I got a letter from him, in which the poor man tells me he is more distressed than ever ; and that you • George III. described him justly, as appears in a recent work, in March 178.3, to Mr. W. Grenville, as " a man of parts, quickness, and great eloquence ; but he wanted application, and consequently the fundamental knowledge necessary for business ; and above ^dl was totally destitute of discretion and sound judgment." — Court and Cabinets q"*' Geo. ///. voi. i. p. 203. 1770. LETTEE TO GARRET NAQLE. 123 showed great resentment to him, so far as even to refuse to give him any thing that I should appoint for him. I can readily excuse the first effect of warmth in an affair that must touch you so nearly. But you must naturally recollect that his indigent circumstances, his unfortunate marriage, and the weakness of his mind, which was in a great measure the cause of both, make him a just object of pity and not of anger ; and that his relation to us neither confers on you nor me any right whatsoever to add to his affliction and punishment — but rather calls upon us to do aU the little good offices in our power to alleviate his misfortunes. " A little reflection wiU make you sensible of this ; I therefore wish you would not only give him now six or seven guineas on my accoimt, but that you would by yourself or some friend, take care that it should be laid out in the man- ner most beneficial for him, and njot entrusted to his own management. If you are not near him, I dare say, Dav. Crotty, or Jack Nagle would look to his settlement. I can have no improper view in this ; no more than in the other afiair which I earnestly recommended to you and oflered my assistance to conclude. But you very justly I suppose, paid no regard to my opinions or wishes ; I hope you will have no reason to be dissatisfied with what you have resolved on that occasion. * * * You remember the usual allowance I have made for these two or three years to some poor per- sons in your county. Tou will be so obliging to continue it to them according to my plan of last year, which you can refer to or remember. Tou will not scruple to advance this for me ; and I do not doubt but your good nature will pre- vail on you to take the trouble. As to my farming, I go on pretty well. All my wheat is in the ground this month past ; which is more than some of my neighbours have been able to compass on account of the wetness of the season." In this year Mr. Richard Burke revisited Grenada, and made a purchase of property in St. Vincent's. The domestic afiections of Edmund which were always particularly sen- sitive, felt in this instance some alarm from the insalubrity of the climate. The promising progress of his own son, then at Westminster School, of whom he was as proud as he was fond, gave him great satisfaction. William Burke thus repeats the usual praises of the admiring father. — " Ned'a little boy is every thing we could wish, good in his person, 124 LIFE or BURKE. 1770. excellent in temper and disposition, attentive and diligent in his studies beyond his years. He has read Virgil and Horace, and some prose writers. He has gone through about four books of Homer, and is I'cading Lucian with really a scientific knowledge of Greek." Dissatisfied with such scanty notices of the debates as found their way to the public ear, he now aimed a fresh projectile at public opinion in the shape of another pamphlet. To Lord Eockingham he thus writes, — " When I got home I returned to my business which I did not quite neglect while I was at Lord Verney's. I find I must either speak very broad, or weaken the matter and render it vulgar and ineffectual. I find some difficulties as I proceed ; for what appears to me self-evident propositions, the conduct and pretences of people oblige one formally to prove. * * * However a good deal of it will soon be ready and you may dispose of it as you please." This piece which came out in April, was his famous pamphlet, " Thovights on the Cause of the Present Discontents." It is perhaps the most masterly thing of tlie kind in our language, except- ing his own work on the French Revolution ; a source of interest and information to statesmen ; and a species oi text-book then for the Whig connexion. It was not merely meant as an occasional piece, but for the instruction of pos- terity by the constitutional tendency of its general views, the depth and truth of its observations, wiiich with the eloquence of the style impart that conviction of genius and wisdom which we feel in perusing all his works. It had been in his thovights for nearly a year previously, and a portion of it written ; but frequent references for the opinions of the party, some of w-hich were introduced, and numberless interruptions prevented its earlier appearance. In this piece will be found the germ of the leading doc- trines which distinguished him in after-life. He wished to hold a mean between the extremes of what were considered the popular and the Court doctrines. Of Lord Bute he speaks with a candour and moderation which scarcely any other public man thought it necessary to observe. The at- tack on the secret manoeuvres of the Court from a states- man labouring for power, indicated an unusual degree of po- litical courage ; nor did some opinions broached by the more democratical writers meet with more ceremonious treatment, 1770. THOUGHTS ON THE DISOOIfTENTS, 125 for whicli the adherents of ministry on one side, and Mrs. Macaulay of republican notoriety on the other, lost no time in attacking him. His defence of party connections has never been answered ; putting to silence the hitherto common reproach applied to most public characters, of being party-men. Every part had been carefully studied and prepared. In May a copy was transmitted to Shackletoru " The pamphlet which I sent to you, and which has been well received, will explain the groimds of our proceedings better than I can do in this place. It is the political creed of our party. Many parts will be unintelligible to you, I confess, for want of knowledge of particular persons and facts ; but on the whole I think you must enter into the design. £ead it with some attention." To this production, although previously passed in review before the heads of the party, Lord Chatham, as to most other things not his own, took exception. He wrote to Lord Rockingham that it had done harm to the party ; and that, " In the wide and extensive public the whole alone can save the whole against the desperate designs of the Court." Again, " A public spirited union is necessary among all who would not be slaves." Strong language tliis from one in his position in the country ; and upon the whole letter, Burke, twenty years afterward, made a pretty strong comment.* The " False Alarm " by Johnson, on the other side of the question, appeared not only without effect but when compared with his opponent, to considerable disadvantage. No political feeling interfered with their private friendship. The good offices of both had been exerted towards the end of the preceding year in favour of Baretti, who had been tried for stabbing a man in tlie Haymarket, by whom he had been attacked ; when in consulting on the best pleas to urge • ''July 13, 1792. — Looking' over poor Lord Rocking-ham's papers, I find this letter from a man wholly unlike him. It concerns my pamphlet. I remember to have seen this knavish letter at the time. The pamphlet is itself, by anticipation, an answer to that prrand artificer of fraud. He would not hke it. It is pleasant to hear him talk of the rjrcat tjrtensive fitblic who never conversed but with a parcel of low toad-eaters. Alas ! alas ! hovv different the real from the ostensible public man ! Must all this theatrical stuffing' and raised heels be necessary tor the character of a great man? Edmund Bukke." "Oh! but this does not derog'ate from his prreat splendid side ' '— • Rockingham Memoirs. By the Ear'', of Albemarle, vol. il. 126 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1770 in Ills defence, Johnson's usual love of dictation even to Burke, appeared in contradicting liira with an undue degree of vrarmth ; an error which he acknowledged with the same frankness. On being reminded of his heat, he said, " It may be so, sir, for Burke and I should have been of one opinion, if we had had no audience." In the summer of 1770 he suffered much disquietude from the long illness of his wife. This kept him at home ; nursing at once the invalid and the farm; and thence failing, as his Irish friends accused him, of neglecting their conse- quence and support by not communicating his opinions and proceedings to many warm admirers there. Leland, the historian, "wrote him occasionally very lively letters, and at this period wished him to negotiate with a bookseller for the publication of his Irish history then in a forward state. He criticises, likewise, the "Discontents," as wanting in a few places his usual elegance of phraseology. While descanting in eloquent letters to Lord Eocking- ham on public affairs and party prospects, he was not less learnedly enlightening Arthur Young on trench-ploughing, loam soils, fattening pigs on carrots, with an account of sending two waggon loads of the latter to London of " a most aromatic smeU, firm, and admirably tasted," for which he received six pounds fifteen shillings, and the back car- riage of coal-ashes, paying expenses ! Not a farmer in his neighbourhood had barley-meal. May butter, peas, and " porkers" more in his thoughts than the mihtant poli- tician, boasting of killing pigs of sixteen and twenty pounds the quarter. Agriculture was with him not merely a pursuit, but a passion. His energy of mind seemed capable of grasping anything he took in hand. Occasional misgivings indeed arose, whether certain farming experiments were as profitable as they had promised. The session 1770-1771, opening on the 13th November, proved a busy and important one. Never perhaps was party spirit and general disquiet more prevalent in the idngdom, excepting in states of actual disturbance. Notes of some of his speeches are to be found in Sir H. Caven- dish's reports, a probable source of information pointed out in this work m 1826, and since published in part (1841), though still incomplete. The principdi ot these were on tne Address — on Mj. 1771. IIOUSB or COMMONS A>'D CITT MAGISTEATES. 127 DowdesTvell's motion on the conduct of ministers — Mr. Phipps's, on the power of the Attorney- General to file in- formations ex-officio — Serjeant Glynn's, on the powers and duties of juries — the dispute regarding the Falkland Islands, and a few others, among which was a skilful and soothing one to allay a quarrel threatening a duel, between Mr. "Wedderburne and Charles Fox — for both of whom he ex- pressed " sincere regard and affection." After the recess his principal efforts were on the dispute with Spain ; on a bill for ascertaining the rights of electors in choosing their representatives ; and on Mr. Dowdeswell'son 1?he rights and powers of juries in prosecutions for libel. The latter was wholly his own measure, submitted previously to Lord Rock- ingham and the heads of the party, and introduced by a member of station and weight. Lord Chatham privately opposed this bill, and wanted its modification. Burke as strenuously urged that they must not give way, as there was evident design to deprive the party of the credit of what would be one of their best and most popular measures. It is not a little curious that Mr. Fox who then likewise opposed it, took this bill nearly to the letter, for his own libel bill in 1791, as will be seen in a future page. So far was Bui'ke in advance of the eminent men of the day, in requiring an enactment that the jury should be judges both of the law and the fact. To this immediately succeeded the important contest be- tween the House of Commons and the City Magistrates, grounded on the question of the printers giving the pro- ceedings in Parliament. This great question, arising from the cupidity of a few obscure individuals, though long felt to be a grievance, terminated in securing one of the greatest constitutional privileges gained since the Revolution, — the tacit liberty of publishing the debates. The member for Wendover embraced the popular side of the question with his accustomed zeal and abiUty ; and when at length the House confessed itself conquered by adjourning over the day on which Mr. "Wilkes was ordered to attend, he did not cease to pursue their resolutions with reproach and ridicule. On the 2nd of April, in company with the Dukes of Portland and Manchester, Marquis of Rockingham, Earl Fitzwilliam, Lord King, and others, he paid a formal visit to the Lord Mayor and Alderman Oliver in the Tower. A proposition by Alderman Sawbridge to shorten the duia- 128 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1771. tion of Parliaments was with equal decision opposed by him as inexpedient and uncalled for by the sense of the country. The substance of this speech has a place in his works. In the spring of the year, Barry who had executed two or three paintings for his patron while abroad, returned from Italy not only filled with impressions of the great superiority of his art, but also with a more noxious disposition too often imbibed by long residence on the continent— an inclination to Deism. Mr. Burke, with the activity of a true friend, immediately assailed this opinion with the most powerful arguments and a few good books, particularly Bishop Butler's Analogy, and by these means succeeded in fixing the eccentric painter's belief in revealed religion. It is a memorable instance of the envenomed spirit abroad against this distinguished man, long afterwards, for his opposition to revolutionary France, that among other slanderous accusations of the day, was that of having been given to deistical raillery. His acquaintance with Dr. Beattie who had arrived in London during the summer, preceded by the fame of his "Minstrel," and "Essay on Truth," perhaps incited him more strongly to convince the artist of his error. The latter work he and Johnson praised highly for its support of religion in opposition to the sceptical metaphysics of Hume. Burke's opinion of such persons is given with characteristic force in the letter to a Noble Lord when speaking of the Philo- sophers of the National Convention. " Nothing can be con- ceived more hard than the heart of a thorough-bred meta- physician. It comes nearer to the cold malignity of a wicked spirit than to the frailty and passion of a man. It is like that of the principle of evil himself, incorporeal, pure, unmixed, dephlegmated, deffecated evil." Beattie's opinion of the science is not more favourable : — " It is the bane of true learning, true taste, and true science ; to it we owe all modern scepticism and atheism ; it has a bad effect upon the human faculties, and tends not a little to sour the temper, to subvert good principles, and to disqualify men for the business ofHfe." In September 1771, Goldsmith writing to Mr. Langton, thus alludes to their friend's usual occupation : — " Burke is a farmer, en attendant a better place, but visiting about too." In proof of the orator's farming propensities to which the poet thus alludes, the following scientific remarks on bacoc I77i. TAEMINQ PUE8UITS. 129 and hows in a letter to his cousin about tliis time, may be added to a former passage. " We Have had the most rainy and stormy season that lias been known. I have got my wheat into the ground better than some others ; that is about four and twenty acres ; I pro- posed having about ten more, but, considering the season this is tolerable. Wheat bears a tolerable price, though a good deal fallen : it is forty-two shillings the quarter, that is two of your barrels. Barley twenty-four shillings. Peas very high, twenty-seven to thirty shillings the quarter ; so that oiu* bacon will come dear to us this season. I liave put up four hogs. I knied one yesterday which weighed a little more than twelve score. Of the other three, one is now near fifteen score, the other about twelve. I shall put up seven now for pickled pork ; these weigh when fit to kill near seven score a piece. To what w^eight do you generally feed bacon hogs in your part of the country ? Here they generally fat them to about fourteen or fifteen score. In Berkshire, near us, they carry them to twenty-five and thirty score. " I am now going into some new method, having contracted with a London seedsman for early white peas at a guinea a barrol. These I shall sow in drills in February, dunging the ground for them. They wdll be oft' early enough to sow turnips. Thus I shall save a fallow without I thiu'k in the least injuring my ground, and get a good return besides. A crop of such peas will be near as valuable as a crop of wheat; and they do not exhaust the soil ; so little, that as far as my experience goes, they are not much inferior to a fallow. I will let you know my success in due time. * * I heard not long since from my brother, who was, thank God, very well. Let me hear from you as soon as you can. Whenever I wrote, I forgot to desire you to give a guinea from Lare* to her father at Kdlivellen — for my delay be so good to give him half a guinea more." The following passage in another letter gives us an idea of the very distant terms he was on with Lord Shelburne even from their first acquaintance in politics — and this coolness increased as they advanced in their career. Mr. Garret Nagle, it seems, wished to become agent to some of his Lord- ship's Irish estates ; an ofiice not disdained by many of the ♦ One of his servant* K 130 LIFE OF BURKE. 1771. country gentlemen of Ireland, to absentee and even resident noblemen. After stating his inclination to do all in bis power for a young relative who wished to go to India ; and a long passage on farming afiairs, he goes on to say, — " Now I wall say a word or two on your own business, concerning the agency you mentioned. Lord Sh. has been for many years very polite to me ; and that is all. I have no interest with him whatsoever ; for which reason when I received your letter, I thought it best to speak to Barre who is in close connexion with him. He had not then heard of Parker's death. He told me that he seldom or never interfered in Lord Shelburne's private aft airs, and believed that if he should on this occasion, it coiUd have no effect, but he said he would try ; and that if there was any prospect of success he would let me know it. He has said nothing to me since." Another letter some time subsequent to this, which would occupy if transcribed, five or six pages, is wholly filled with farming affairs, more especially on the culture of the turnip, its risks, benefits and disadvantages. For this detail (he says) he has chosen a wet day, in which he can do nothing out of doors ; and being addressed to a farmer, a more ap- propriate time or topic could not be chosen. From his account it appears he had nearly thirty acres in turnips, and in the preceding year, no less than one hundred and ten loads of natural hay ; clover hay he adds sold then from thirty to thirty- six shillings the load. The truth of a remark upon cultivation will be immediately recognised by the practical farmer and furnish evidence of shrewd observation. " I am satisfied that no cheap method of tillage can be a good one. All profit of lands is derived from manure and labour ; and neither of them, much less both of them, can be had but at a dear rate. I should not even consider the cheapness of labour in any particular part as a very great advantage. It is something withovit doubt. But then I have ahvays foimd that labour of men is nearly in proportion to their pay. Here w^e are sixpence a day low'er than within a few miles of London ; yet I look upon tlie work there to be in effect nearly as reasonable as liere ; it is in all respects so much better and so much more expeditiously done." In the month of November, 1771, his acquaintance with American affairs was rewarded by the appointment of Agent to the state of New York, worth nearly £700. per annuui. 1771-72. JUNIUS — BISHOP MAEKHAM. 131 which, though it tended on all future occasions to give him the most correct views of American affairs, diminished perhaps the effect of his oratory iu the House, and of his wisdom out of doors, from an illiberal surmise that his advice might not be wholly disinterested. The belief that he was Junius had now become almost universal. Nearly all the Ministry and most of his private friends scarcely preserved any delicacy in their allusions ; some in tones of compliment, others in as strong expressions of regret. In vain he tried to undeceive all ; Lord IMans- field, as one of the most serious sufferers, was for a time implacable. Sir William Draper, Mr. Gerard Hamilton, and many more moving iu spheres where he was less known, could not be convinced. Even his old friend the Bishop of Chester (Dr. Markham), imbibed the same impression, in- fluenced by the constant and unmeasured abuse in the public journals, which the accused never descended to contradict. To turn this current of opinions aside if possible he had in the debate on Mr. Phipps' motion, characterized Junius in those mingled terms of censure and approval, which are too well known to require repetition here, and of which Sir H. Cavendish retaius only the substance in his report. To the same end perhaps he slightly complimented Lord Mansfield, or rather the Judges generally, in Serjeant Grlynn's motion, and was called publicly to accoimt for this small civility to the unpopular Chief Justice. At length Mr. Charles Townshend, brother of Mr. Thomas Towns- hend, (usiially called in the correspondence of the day, Tommy), whose father he occasionally visited at Fragnall, thought proper in conversation and by letter to advert ex- pressly to the question. A prompt denial, couched in mo- derate terms, was the natural response, — his friends he said he had satisfied : his enemies who had advanced this charge for malignant purposes, he never would satisfy. Again the same correspondent addressed him, stating that some of their friends required a more positive and dircct negative ; that even Bishop Markham to whom he (Burke) had written or. the same topic, had expressed surprise at not receiving a more unqualified disavowal of all ]iarticipation in the letters. To this irksome catechising he again replied, pledging hia honour that he knew notliing whatever of the writer. The former friendl} endeavours of the Bishop tj aid hia 132 LIFE OF BUEifE. 1772, views, had given him as he imagined a species of privilege to take liberties, which about this period was exerted to its fullest extent. He addressed letters to Burke, couched in a censori- ous if not gross and inexcusable tone. He condemned the whole of his political career, conduct, principles, opinions, friends, and associations as bad ; told him he had no claim to high office ; such arrogance in a man in his condition was in- tolerable ; terms his lead in the measures of his party as rim- ning the extreme line of wickedness ; that he gives the world an impression of being a man capable of things dangerous and desperate ; that in going into the House of Commons he entered like a wolf into a fold of lambs, snapping now at one and now at another; that he ill-treats the first men in the kingdom ; that his house was no better than a hole of adders ; and much more to the same effect. These letters have not been preserved. The offensive passages however are embodied in the reply a long and effective one, which was found among his papers, couched in the most moderate tone — that of sorrow not of anger- — as if thus to convict the Bishop of error and harshness, and who had likewise accused him of being unable to distinguish admonition from reproach. It is creditable to the philosophy of the orator, that these trials of temper by the prelate, produced no permanent estrangement. The next session, 1772, was short and produced little of importance. A petition from 250 clergymen of the Establish- ment and several members of the professions of law and physic, praying to be relieved from subscription to the 39 Articles and called, from their place of meeting, the Feathers' Tavern Association, he opposed in conjunction with ministry, against the opinions of nearly all his owti party. His argument, among other reasons was, that while the associators professed to belong to the Establishment, and projited by it, no hardship could be implied in requiring some common bond of agreement such as the subscription in question, among its members. Acting upon the same principle he supported a motion soon afterwards, made to relieve Dissenting Ministers who neither agreed with the Church, nor participated in its emoluments, from this test. It was carried through the Commons by a great majority though rejected by the Lords. The repeal oi the Marriage Act, which Charles Fox quitted office for a moment to propose, was resisted by Burke, of whose speech 1772. PAELIAMEKTAET LAUOUES. 133 Horace "Walpole wTites : — " Burke made a long and fine oration against the motion. * * * He spoke with a choice and variety of language, a profusion of metaphors, and yet with a correctness of diction that were surprising. His fault was copiousness above measure." A bill to quiet the possessions of the subject against dormant claims of thi^ Church, introduced the 17th of February, found in him a powerful though unsuccessful advocate, on the same principle as the Nullum Tempus Act against dormant claims of the CrowTi. Tragmeuts of some of these speeches are given in his works. He also took a considerable share in Colonel BurgojTie's motion, April 13th, for a select committee on East India affairs. Again on the following day in a com- mittee of the whole House, on a series of resolutions moved oy Mr. Pownall, to regulate the importation and exportation of corn. On the budget discussed May 1st ; on a bill to regulate the internal government of the African Company ; and ou some amendments made by the Lords in a money clause in the corn bill, he also took part, lamenting on the latter occasion a violent disagreement which had taken place between the Houses ; and pointing out forbearance and temper to the Commons as the most dignified mode of reply to tlie rude insults received from the Peers. The bill itself, as infringing upon the riglits of the House in money matters, was tossed over the table and kicked by members ou both sides of the question along the floor as they went out. It is recorded by BosweU, that Dr. Johnson, in conver- sation, once made a, bull. As a faithful chronicler, it must not be concealed by the present writer that Mr. Burke in the debate on the budget this year, used the same figiu*e of speech to the great amusement of the House ; having however the pleas of his country, and the heat of argument, to urge in extenuation of this usually mirthful slip of the tongue. "The Minister," said he, "comes down in state, attended by his creatures of all denominations, beasts clean and un- clean. With such however as they are, he comes down, opens his budget, and edifies us all with his speech. What is the consequence ? One half oi the House goes away. A gentleman on the opposite sidi^ gets up and harangues on the itate of the nation ; and in order to keep matters even, another half retires at the close of his speech. A third 134 LIFB or BURKE. 1772< gentleman follows their example, and rids the House of another half (a loud laugh through the House). " Sir," said he, turning the laugh with some address and humour, " I take the blunder to myself, and express my satisfaction at having said any thing that can put the House in good humour." East India affairs had occupied many of his studious hours, and when debated in the Commons had elicited from him what were considered sound opinions vipon the condition and rights of the Company. At this period they had fallen into considerable confusion. Their decline was felt by the pro- prietors in the most sensitive of all points— the dividiMids. No arguments are so conclusive as those of pecuniary loss. To repair this deficiency by controlling expenditure where profusion had been the rule and to work out an improving revenue, ability, and character of a high order were necessary. These were found at once by the directors in the indefa- tigable member for Wendover. In the autumn of this year he was offered in their name by Sir Greorge Colebrooke, the first position in a supervisorship of three, empowered to trace out in detail the whole administrative system of India, and to remedy all they could find amiss. No compliment could be greater to his talents and integrity, no proposal more advan- tageous to his straitened finances, but in defiance of both he declined — to the serious disadvantage of that country. The first hint of this determination was given to the Duke of Richmond, to whom after a visit to Goodwood he thus wrote : — " As I trotted toward town yesterday, I turned over in my mind tlie subject of our last conversation. I set it in every light I could possibly place it, and after the best deliberation in my power, I came to a resolution not to accept the offer which was made to me." One of the chief reasons probably was the silence of Lord Rockingham, who when written to by Burke and Sir Gr. Colebrooke, gave no answer. The inference was obvious. He could not spare the parliamentary talents of his zealous supporter ; and felt too much delicacy to give a negative to what promised to be so conducive to that friend's pecuniary interests. Had the appointment been accepted, it might be curious to speculate on what would have been the result of a meeting with Hastings on Iiulian ground. The latter had then scarcely entered upon his career of aggression. AVhilc Burke witlx equal energy and decision of character, with infinitely more J 1772. VISIT TO FKAJS'CE. 135 of principle, more humanity, more popular talents, a leader in parliament and sure to resume that station whenever he thought proper, added to a hatred of any thing like oppression which indeed formed the leading feature of his life, it is pro- bable that Hastings never could have accomplished, perhaps not attempted, the offences for which he was afterwards tried. At this moment the political horizon appeared to be un- clouded. The people were still. Wilkes, tiie printers, and the Middlesex election seemed forgotten. So unpromising wore appearances for opposition, that Lord Eockingham him- self proposed— not a secession — but a partial absence from Parliament as a means of arousing the country from its apathy. To thisBurke at fii'st gave a qualified assent, but soonwithdrew it. His opinion proved to be tliat of the majority of the party, which deemed the measure now inexpedient, as it had been deemed after the Middlesex contest, when the latter made the proposal with a greater prospect of producing effect. His skill on this occasion brought forth the avowal from the Duke of Richmond, — " Indeed, Burke, you have more merit than any man in keeping us together." While this was in progress, a brisk correspondence was kept up with the Duke, Lord Rockingham, and IMr. Dowdeswell. All of tiiem ex- pressed unusual fears of being exposed to prying adversaries through the medium of the Post Oifice, and at length one of Burke's was opened, —a proceeding as it appeared, not uncommon in the lax official morality of the time. His letters are so full as almost to seem that letter writing was his chief business. Parliament met in November. His first labours were on the Navy estimates and the East India Company's affairs. His son who had been entered some time before at Christ Church, Oxford, he took to France during the recess, in order to acquire the language, as he wrote to Shackleton, " while the organs are limber. I have foimd the greatest inconvenience from tlie want of it." Young Burke was placed at Auxerre to reside under special charge of the Bishop, to whom he had been introduced. It was on this visit he first saw Marie Antoinette, who appeared in that glow of splendour and of youthful beauty which when afterwards depicted by his pen drew the com- passion and sympathies of Europe. All the chief of tliose coteries since so much celebrated in literary history, were opened to receive him ; but their prevailing spirit in politics 13G LIFE OF BURKE. 1773. as well as in religion, excited in his mind a strong degi'ee of aversion. lie formed but few acquaintance at this time, some of whom were ecclesiastics and afterwards his guests as emigrants. Never perhaps were there seen together in one capital, at one time, so many men, and even women, of extraordinary intellectual powers. But the lustre which they cast upon every dej)artment of science and literature, was scarcely more remarkable than the perversion of mind which led them to despise the first and greatest bonds which hold society together. They valued everything but religion ; they practised every thing but morality. Infidelity and too often vice formed their chief links of union ; and the mass, splendid as it was, formed but a species of moral dung-heap, rotten and stinking at heart, but luminous on the surface by the very excess of putrefaction. Too sagacious not to see the re- sults, the scene gave him some alarm and dislike ; particularly as this disregard of morals seemed joined with antipathy to all existing institutions of their country. In the very next session of Parliament he pointed out " this conspiracy of Atheism to the watchful jealousy of governments ; and though not fond of calling in the aid of the secular arm to suppress doctrines and opinions, yet if ever it was raised it should be against those enemies of their kind, who would take from man the noblest prerogative of his nature, that of being a religious animal. Already under the systematic at- tacks of these men I see many of the props of good govern- ment beginning to fail. I see propagated principles which will not leave to religion even a toleration, and make virtue herself less than a name." Memorable words indeed when we remember their literal fulfilment. He did not hesitate while there, in his usual uncompro- mising way, to assail the prevailing opinions ; to which Horace Walpole writing in March, thus jocularly alludes : " Mr. Burke is returned from Paris, where he was so much the mode that happening to dispute with the philosophers, it grew the fashion to be Christians. St. Patrick himself did not make more converts." His labours during the remainder of the session (1773) were an animated speech on a petition of Protestant Dissen- ters, and several on affairs of the East India Company, in n-liich the extent of his acquaintance with the subject were avowed by the Directors, Members of the House, to be yery 1773. HOUSE OF COMMONS. 137 honourable to his induslTy. A commission of supervision ■was at length ordered to be sent out against all the eftbrts of Opposition, though the Minister did not hesitate to profit by a variety of suggestions thrown out by its leader. The former always professed admiration of his talents, and it was more than once said would have been glad to secure his assistance, or his silence on any terms he chose to propose. " I attest heaven and earth," said the latter, in debate at the time, "that in all places, and at all times, I have steadfastly shoved aside the gilded hand of corruption, and endeavovired to stem the torrent which threatens to overwhelm this island." Adding, on another occasion — " I know the political map of England as well as the Noble Lord (North), or as any other person ; and I kno\v that the way I take is not the path to prefer- ment." "I know, indeed," said he, in the first debate on the affairs of the Company (Dec. 7, 1772), " that the same qua- lifications now-a-days make a good member of Parliament that foi'merly made a good monk. ' Tria faciunt monachum — Bene loqui de sitperiore ~ legere breviarum taliter qualiter — et sinere res vadere ut vaduni.' In English — Speak well of the Minister — Head the lesson he sets you, taliter qualiter, and let the state take care of itself — sinere res vadere ut vadiint.'" This irreverent allusion to so essential a part of Popery, might almost have satisfied Sir William Bagot him- self of the little respect for its forms entertained by the speaker. The hold which he had now acquired on public opinion, and the lead taken in the popular branch of the Legislature were the best evidences of his importance and powers ; for little favour is given there to any man who does not by unques- tionable talents conquer his way to it. The House of Commons is in many respects a remarkable assembly. It is not only the popular branch of the Legis- lature, the immediate organ and pursebearer of the people, the jealous guardian of the Constitution, the chosen temple of fame as Burke himself termed it, the main avenue to honours and power, but it is especially the great touchstone of ability for public business. A man may often deceive himself or mislead others on the real extent of his capacity for such employment, but he can rarely impose upon that body. Few know perhaps of what they are capable when they enter into it, and few come out without having found 138 LIFE OF BUBKE. 1773. their just weight in the political balance. It does not therefore merely serve to make a man great, but if he be really deficient in the qualities of a great statesman, it is sure to place him where he should be. Elsewhere it may be difficult to draw this invidious distinction ; but there it is done silently though effectually. Rivalry is inseparable from the spot. It is in vain from the number of penetrating eyes, quick ears, emulative and jealous feelings, subtle and powerful understandings directed to all the proceedings of a member to hope that incapacity can escape detection, or mediocrity seize the palm of excellence. A dull man vsdll soon be neg- lected, a superficial one seen through, a vain one laughed at, and an ignorant one despised. There is perhaps no earthly ordeal for statesmen so trying as this; and no abilities which, by passing through it with celebrity may not be taken as sterling. But in addition to these, it serves other useful purposes. It is the great purger and purifier of political opinions, No person of moderate capacity desirous of being instructed, or of gaining from the experience of older senators what they have partly gained from their predecessors, can sit there long without being wiser, or if not, the presumption is against his understanding. If he be at all open to convic- tion new lights will bi'eak in upon him on almost all subjects of dispute ; his prejudices, his pre-conceived and imperfect notions will be one by one removed to be re- arranged in more perfect combinations elaborated in this school of prac- tical wisdom and popular development of mind. Nor is it less serviceable as the scourge of more vulgar political quackery. A conceited or turbulent man who may assume a high tone with the public at large on the infallibility of his I'emedies for national evils, no sooner goes there than he sinks into neglect or comparative insignificance. The decorum, and awe inspired by tlie place, commonly strike him dumb, and while silent he is safe. But if once tempted to give vent to crude schemes or unsound notions, he is assaulted by the united powers of eloquence, argument, and ridicide : and beaten, if not out of the House at least out of notice. Presumption and dogmatism on topics of general interest, deserve and meet with no quarter there ; and projects, which for a time mislead even sensible men out of doors, are no sooner touched by the Ithui'iel spear of the House of 1773. TAX ox TRTSH ABSiiNTEES. 139 Commons, than their folly or mischief becomes evident. Tet persons are sometimes found even there wliolly incurable ; impenetrable to reasoning and insensible to contempt ; to whom the knife and the cautery are applied in vain to extir- pate errors ; but the exceptions only prove the rule. A brisk correspondence, as usual, was kept up during the summer with Lord Rockingham. A sporting friend in America having wTitten for one of his Lordship's jockies, Burke remarks that if Greorge Grrenville had been alive and in office, he certainly would have made him pay export duty ! To the Duke of Richmond on a previous occasion in allusion to politics, he quoted as applicable to his Grace, the well- known boast of Wilkes, who in making love, would engage against the handsomest fellow in England provided he had a month's start of his rival to make amends for his face. Pub- lic topics necessarily formed the great staple of these letters. Among the number was a proposed tax on Irish absentees, which became whispered abroad toward the end of Septem- ber; and in addition to a private communication to Lord Rock- ingham, eventually drew an able letter, now in his works, from Burke to Sir Charles Bingham in Dublin, who had ex- pressly written for his opinion on the subject. This opinion proved stronglyagainst it. Lord Charlemont and other friends to the proposal, were pretty well converted by his arguments ; and being seconded by a representation to Lord North from some of the chief proprietors resident in England on the in- justice of the measure, caused it to be abandoned. His arguments on this question appear so forcible that perhaps they are not to be answered, at least I have not seen any serious attempt to refute them. Absenteeism is an old grievance of Ireland ; and as the cry against it has been stronger lately perhaps than ever, this letter is well worthy of consideration, as proving that whatever may be the remedy for the evil, a direct tax of ten per cent on non-resident landlords as was then proposed, is not the most eligible. To Lord Rockingham he says, " I never can forget that I am an Irishman. I flatter myself, perhaps ; but I think I would shed my blood rather than see the limb I belong to oppressed and* defrauded of its due nourishment. But this measure tends to put us out of our place, and not to im- prove us in our natural situation. It is the mere effect of narrowness and passion." 140 LIFE OF EURKB. 1774 The general resistance to authority at Boston, and the destruction of the tea sent thither in consequence of the exaction of duty, made the session of 1774 an important one, in consequence of the measures adopted by the Ministry against the refractory port and province of Massachusets. A general feeling prevailed at home, even among many mem- bers of Opposition, that some punishment was necessary. Mr. Burke however though unsupported by his party, de- clared decidedly against the Boston Port Bill, deprecating it in the most solemn manner as partial, severe, unjust towards the innocent ; fraught Avitli danger to our authority, and threatening to bring the question of force at once to issue. " Never," said he, " did anything give me more heart-felt sorrow than the present measure." And it proved imhappily as he expected it would do, the great turning point of A_meri- can politics; but strange to say scarcely another man of talents in the House viewed the proceeding with similar alarm ; another memorable instance of profoimd political foresight. His private letters expressed the same language as his speeches. One of these written at this time (Feb. 1774) to the well-known General Lee then in America, but not yet suspected of intending to join the discontented in their hostility, gave his sentiments moderately, but explicitly. " It was extremely kind of you to remember your friends in our dull worn-out hemisphere, among the infinite objects of ciu-iosity that are so exuberantly spread out before you in the vast field of America. There is indeed abundant matter, both natural and political, to give full scope to a mind active and enterprising like yours ; where so much has been done and undone ; and where still there is an ample range for wis- dom and mistaJce ; — either must produce considerable effects in an affair of such extent and importance. It would be no light mischief, and no trivial benefit. When one considers what might be done there, it is truly miserable to think of its present distracted condition. But as the errors which have brought things into that state of confusion are not likely to be corrected by any influence of ours upon either side of the water, it is not wise to speculate too much on the subject. It can have no effect but to make ourselves uneasy, "without any possible advantage to the public. " Here, as we have met, so we continue, in the most per- fect repose. * * * Whether the American affairs will be 1774, ANECDOTE OE DE. PEIESTLET. 141 brouglit before us is yet uncertain. Saturday, 1 heard the Massachusets petition agaiust their governor and deputy discussed before the council. It "was spoken to very ably by the counsel on either side ; by Messrs. Dunning and Lee, for the province ; by Mr. Wedderbum, for the governors. The latter uttered a furious philippic against poor Dr. Frank- lin. It required all his philosophy, natural and acquired, to support him against it. I hear that the petition will be rejected. The council vras the fullest of any in our memory. Thirty-five attended." On that occasion Dr. Priestley, with whom he was ac- quainted, tells the following anecdote. — " Going along Parliament Street on the morning of the 29th January, 1774, I met Mr. Burke and Dr. Douglas, Bishop of Salis- bury, when the former introduced us to each other as men of letters, and inquired whither I was going. I replied, I could say whither I ivished to go, and on explaining it was to the Privy Council, he desired me to accompany him. The ante-room proved to be so full of persons on the same errand as ourselves, that I despaired even getting near the door, 'Keep fast hold of me,' said Mr, Burke, locking my arm within his, and forcing his way with much difficulty to the door, ' You are an excellent leader, Mr. Burke.' ' I wish others thought so too,' replied he. We got in among the first, Mr. Burke taking his stand behind the chair next to the President, and I next to him." To Lord Eocktngham his opinions were as usual strongly expressed. He could not account for the infatuation of the ministry and the country. A robbery of any note on Hounslow, he said, would excite more notice than the riots in America which threatened to dissever an empire. His foresight however did not pass unappreciated. A vote of thanks passed to him from the Committee of Trade at Manchester ; and ano^er from the African Company, for his knowledge and support of various commercial measures. " With admiration and respect," the former flatteringly said, " we behold you. Sir, in the possession of the most distin- guished abilities; happier still in the most patriotic appli- cation of them in the service of your country," AV^hile the statesman felt thus gratified, the father was not less so by a letter from the celebrated Madame Du Defland with pro- mising accounts of his son, who now she said spoke French 142 LIFE OF BUBKB. 1774 like his native language. She like^n-ise sent tho prize dis- course of the year at the Academy, of which she requested his sincere opinion. The parliamentary proceedings in which he took a leading part, were in perpetuating Mr. Grenville's Election Bill, which was strongly though unaccountably opposed ; the budget ; the Quebec Grovernment Bill ; bills for altering the government of Massachusets ; and the petitions to which they gave rise. But the distinguishing feature of the session, and the greatest efibrt of oratory as universally considered, which had hitherto been made in the House of Commons, or in any other popular assembly, was his speech on the 19th of April, on a motion by Mr. Eose Fuller who usually sup- ported ministry, wholly to repeal the obnoxious tea duty. He did not rise as was often his practice, till the evening had advanced and some members were withdrawn, who on the report of his unusual brilliancy, hurried back to give frequent and audible testimonies of admiration of his eloquence though they woiild not give him their votes. The murmurs of ap- plause in the gallery it is said were only restrained from bm-sting out by awe of the House. It was on this occasion after the delivery of a particularly powerful passage, that Lord John Townshend, who had retired thither with some friends, exclaimed aloud, " Grood God ! what a man this is ! how could he acquire such transcendent powers ?" The plain, practical, common-sense policy, recommended in the following animated passage, drew from Mr. Sampson, an intelligent American of some weight in that country and much in the confidence of Dr. Franklin, a loud exclamation to a friend, who sat at a little distance in the gallery : " You have got a most wonderful man here ; he understands more of America than all the rest of your House put together." " Let us. Sir, embrace some system or other before we eud this session. Do you mean to tax America, and to draw a productive revenue from her ? If you do, speak out ; name, fix, ascertain this revenue ; settle its quantity ; define its objects ; provide for its collection ; and then fight when you have something to fight for. If you murder — rob ; if you kill — take possession ; and do not appear in the character of madmen as well as assassins, violent, vindictive, bloody, and tyrannical, without an object. But may better counsels guide you! 1774. SPEECH ON A.MEE1CAK TAXATION. 143 ** Again and again, revert to your old principles — seek peace and ensue it ; leave America, if she has taxable matter in her, to tax herself.* I am not here going into the dis- tinctions of rights, nor attempting to mark their boundaries. I do not enter into these metaphysical distinctions ; I hate the very sound of them. Leave the Americans as they anciently stood, and these distinctions, born of our unhappy contest, will die along with it. They and we, and their and our ancestors, have been happy under that system. Let the memory of all actions in contradiction to that good old mode, on both sides, be extinguished for ever. Be content to bind America by laws of trade ; you have always done it. Let this be your reason for binding their trade. Do not burthen them -with taxes ; you Mere not used to do so from the beginning. Let this be your reason for not taxing. These are the arguments of states and kingdoms. Leave the rest to the schools, for there only they may be discussed with safety. But if intemperately, unwisely, fatally, you sophis- ticate and poison the very source of government by urging subtle deductions, and consequences odious to those you govern, from the unlimited and illimitable nature of supreme sovereignty, you will teach them by these means to call that sovei"eignty itself in question. AVhen you drive him hard, the boar will turn upon the hunters. If that sovereignty and their freedom cannot be reconciled, which will they take ? They will cast your sovereignty in your face. No body of men will be argued into slavery. Sir, let the gentlemen on the other side call forth all their ability ; let the best of them get up and tell me, what one character of liberty the Ameri- cans have, and what one brand of slavery they are free from, if they are bound in their property and industry by all the restraints you can imagine on conmierce, and at the same time are made pack-horses of every tax you choose to impose, • The opinion advanced by some persons, of American representatives being' sent to the British senate, was scouted by Mr. Burke some years before. The -writer of Junius's letters fully coincided with him ; and in a private letter to AVilkes, Sept. 7,1771, appeals to his authority on the question, in condemning' some resolutions of tlie Bill of Rig-hts Society. " If you mean that the Americans should be authorized to send their representatives to the British Parliament, I shall be contented with referring you to what Mr. Burke has said upon this subject, and will not venture to tdd any thing of my own." — Wooilj'airg Editiun, vol. i. p. 293. 144 I-IFE OF BUItKE. 1774. without the least share in granting them. When tliey bear the burthens of unlimited monopoly, will you bring them to bear the burthens of unlimited revenue too ? The English- man in America will feel that this is slavery ; that it is legal slavery, will be no compensation either to his feelings or to his understanding." The merits of this speech are of a high and peculiar cast ; a force and truth of argument, not ^to be answered — orna- ment not more than enough — an intuitive, straight-forward wisdom, which on all great occasions, seems never to have deserted him — a range of observation which nobody else dare attempt without certain ruin to the speaker and to the subject— yet skilfully brought to bear upon the point he has in view. To this end even his digressions, his illustrations, his imagery, his narrative of measures, his exposition of our true policy, his appeals to experience, his graphic sketches of character, all forcibly tend. Nothing that comes in his way but is converted to use. His figures become arguments; and when seeming most to wander from the point, wheel round and overpower us with some new and formidable auxiliary to reason. It is what most of his speeches are, a rare combination of the constituents of eloquence such as no other orator, foreign or native, ancient or modern, has been able to give us with equal effect. As a ready debater it added to his fame, much being un- questionably extemporaneous ; and the first speech which his friends could persuade him to commit to the press. For this purpose he had the use of their notes. On the public it made a great impression altliough strangers were usually excluded from the debates. The censure of the opposite party was confined more to the manner than to the matter; and Lord North though he negatived the motion, appeared so confounded or convinced by the reasoning of its supporter, that early in the very next session he offered to repeal this tax, the fatal cause of so much mischief, if that would satisfy America, but the moment for concession had passed away. About the same time his friend, poor Goldsmith, died, having scarcely finisli^d his pleasant poem of Retaliation. The character of Burke is keenly and faithfully drawn, and though well knowni to every reader of poetry, cannot well be omitted in a memoir of him whom it describes. Allowing for that exaggeration and sarcastic pleasantry, which the occ&" 1774 golbr^ith's lines. — earry. 145 sion called for, it would be difficult to comprise more wit and truth in the same number of lines. Here lies our ^ood Edmund, whose g'enius was such, "We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much ; Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind. And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. Thoug:!! fraught with all learning, yet straining- his throat, To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote ; Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining. And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining ; Though equal to all things, for all things unfit, Too nice for a statesman, too pi'oiid for a wit ; For a patriot too cool, for a drudge disobedient. And too fond of the right, to pursue the expedient ; In short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd or in place, Sir, To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor. In another part, comparing the different members to dishes, he happily writes — Our Burke shall be tongue, with tiie garnish of brains. In the "Haunch of Venison" he again says — but struck one quite dumb. With tidings that Johnson and Burke would not come; " For I knew it," he cried, " both eternally fail. The one with his speeches, and t'other with ThraJe," amid other similar allusions. Of the lively and affectionate interest which he took in the success, both in life and in art, of his protege Barry, abundant proofs have been already given. But he saw with great pain after the latter had been resident a short tune in England, that peculiar temper and obstinate humours would in all probability mar, if not destroy, the effect of his un- doubted talents. With many great and good qualities, few brother artists could live long with the painter on terms of amity. He was eccentric and self-willed ; and scarcely any man who is so is agreeable in society. He had a harshness and freedom of expression in matters of opinion, which car- ried him further than he meant, and frequently gave offence when perhaps offence was not intended. He had a mode of thinking and acting of his own in all things. Professing an utter contempt for money, he became often querulous and irritable at the distresses which money alone could relieve, L 146 LIFE OF BUEKB. ITT'l. and felt the want of that consequence wliicli after all, money is one of the chief means of imparting. With a great thirst for fame, he would not seek it on the terms which general opinion prescribed. The world he thought should conform to his views, and not he to those of the world. He would not submit to paint portraits, and was therefore pretty cer- tain of never arriving either at popularity or wealth. A humour of his at this moment, which to some might have appeared like ingratitude though such was not the case, had nearly produced a breach between him and his patron. The latter wished to sit to him for a portrait painted in order to gratify an old friend ; and calling on several occasions for that puj'pose was put off with excuses of prior occupation or the necessity of receiving previous notice. This Mr. Burke, from incessant engagements, could not give. Two years had elapsed when the friend in question, Dr. Brock- lesby, complaining of delay, and Burke having unexpectedly several hours to spare on two successive days when in town, which the painter in the indulgence of his whim would not seize as desired, at length addressed ni order to rouse him, a cold and formal letter of remonstrance. This had the effect, though he still maintained that other artists required longer notice — an apology which was soon disposed of by another forcible and characteristic letter from the patron ; and the picture was painted. Shortly after this, Mr. Burke finding him busily at work when he called inquired the subject, and was told that it was a bagatelle — Young Mercury inventing the lyre, by ac- cidentally finding a tortoise-shell at break of day on the sea-shore : " Aye," replied the orator, with his accustomed promptitude, " that is the fruit of early rising, — there is the industrious boy ! — But I will give you a companion for it — paint Narcissus wasting his day in looking at himself in a fountain — that will be the idle boy." The picture was ac- cordingly painted.— In the following year, the artist pre- sented a copy of his Inquiry into the Keal and Imaginary Obstructions to the Acquisition of the Arts in England to the same great critic, who retiu-ned a candid and favourable opinion marked by his usual discrimination, in a letter dated January 1775 from tlie Broad Saiictuary. Among visitors to Grregories during the summer, were Mr. and Mrs. Thrale and his old friend Dr. Johnson ; when the 1774 DE. J0HKS05. Ii7 latter after wandering one day over the grounds in admira- tion succeeded by a reverie, exclaimed — Non equidem invideo, miror mag'is. which has been construed into a passing shadow of discon- tent at the superiority of his friend's fortune. Johnson, however had little of envy about him. Burke nothing of the insolence of ordinary minds in prosperity to excite it. For though now leader of Opposition, the first by far in eloquence in Parliament, second to none in public talents of any kind, high in fame, in confidential connexion and friend- ship with the chief men of the country, these distinctions produced in him no alteration of manner. His table, society, and friendship were as open to less fortunate acquaintance as before. He had passed them by in the race of life, but did not neglect or despise those of worth or talents because they were nearly lost in the distance. At the moment of parting Avhen the hospitable master of the mansion was setting out on election business, another sup- posed equivocal speech escaped from the great moralist as he shook him cordially by the hand. — "Farewell my dear Sir, and remember that I wish you all the success which ought to be wished you, which can possibly be wished you indeed by an honest man." There is nothing ambiguous iu this. Now and then it is true he seemed to think that an honest man could scarcely Tvish well to a Whig ; but Mund as he fami- liarly called him, seldom came in for any share in this cen- sure. On the contrary, of his public exertions he said, " It was commonly observed he spoke too often iu Parliament, but nobody could say he did not speak well, but j^erhaps too frequently and sometimes too fiimiliarly." Such, however, must always be the case with a leader of Opposition as to frequent speaking. Mr. Burke with equal regard, defended Johnson's pension this session from the attack of one of his own party, Mr. Thomas Townsheud, in the House of Connuons, The doctor launching out one day iu praise of his friend Burke at Mr. Thrale's at Streatliam, an Irisli trader who was present, delighted at hearing his country-man so much applauded by one whom he understood to be the wisest man in England, thought he might add something to this favo^irite subject. " Give me leave, Sir," said he to 14S LIFE OF EUllKE. 1774;. Johnson, " tc tell you something of Mr, Burke. Mr. Burke went to see the collieries in a distant province ; and he would go down Sir, into the bowels of the earth (in a bag), and he would examine every thing ; he went in a bag, Sir, and ventured his life for knowledge : but he took care of his clothes that they should not be sjjoiled, for he went down in a bag." "Well, Sir," replied Johnson good humouredly in allusion to the repetitions of this fact, " if our friend Mund should die in any of these hazardous exploits, you and I would write his life and panegyric together : and your chapter of it should be entitled thus, ' Burke in a bagy These two remarkable men were perhaps the only persons of their age, who in acquirements or in original powers of mind could be compared with each other. They had been at first labourers in the literary vineyard ; they had each ulti- mately risen to the highest eminence in different sjDheres ; they preserved at all times sincere esteem for each other ; and were rivals only in gaining the admiration of their country. From the first, Burke seems to have possessed a strong am- bition of rising in public life far above the range accessible to mere literature or even to a profession, though that pro- fession was the law. Johnson's views had never extended beyond simple independence and literary fame. The one de- sired to govern men, the other to become the monarch of their books ; the one dived deeply into their political rights, the other into the matter of next importance among all na- tions — their authors, liinguage, and letters. A stroug cast of originality yet with few points of resem- blance, distinguish not only their thoughts, but almost their modes of thinking, and each has had the merit of founding a, style of his own. Johnson, seemingly born a logician, im- presses truth on the mind with scholastic, methodical precision which seldom fails effect. More careless of arrangement yet with not less power, Burke assumes a more popular manner, giving to his views more ingenuity, more novelt}', and on tlie w"hole more variety. The reasoning of the former is marshalled with the exactness of a heraldic procession, ' or the rank and file of an army, one in the rear of another ac- cording to their importance or power of producing effect. The latter disregarding such precise discipline, makes up in the incessant and unexpected nature of his assaults what he wanta in more formal array. AVe can anticipate Johnson's 1774. BURKE AND JOHI^SOIf. 149 mode of attack, but not Burke's, for careless of the order of the battle of the schools, he charges at once front, flauka, and rear ! and his unwearied perseverance in returning to the combat on every accessible point, pretty commonly in- sures him the ^dctory. The former argued like an acade- mical teacher ; the latter like what he was and what nature had intended him for — an orator. The labours of the former were addressed to the closet ; of the latter most frequently to a popular assembly ; and eacli chose the mode best calcu- lated for his purpose. Both were remarkable for subtlety and vigour of reasoning wherever the occasion required them. In copiousness and variety of language adapted to every subject, and to every capacity, Burke is generally admitted to possess the advan- tage. In style he has no stiffness, less mannerism, less seeming labour, and scarcely any aflectation ; in perspicuity they are both admirable. Johnson had on the whole more erudition ; Biu-ke, inexhaustible powers of imagina- tion. Johnson possessed a pungent, caustic, wit ; Burke a more playful, sarcastic humour ; in the exercise of which both were occasionally keen or broad enough. Johnson, had his original pursuits inclined that way, would have made no ordinary politician. Burke was confessedly a master in the science. In the philosophy of it he is the first in the English language or perhaps in any other ; and in practice during the long period of his public career, was second to none. Added to these were his splendid oratorical powers, to which Johnson had no pretension. With a latent hankering after abstractions, the one in logical, the other in metaphysical subtleties, both had the good sense utterly to discard them when treating of the practical business of men. They were distinguished for possessing a large share of general knowledge, accurate views of life, social and conver- sational powers instructive in no common degree — and in the instance of Johnson never excelled. They miderstood the heart of man and his springs of action perfectly, from their constant intercourse with every class of society. Con- Bcientious and moral in private life, both were zealous in guarding from danger the established religion of their coun- try ; and in the case of Burke, with the utmost liberality to every class of dissenters. Johnson's censures and aversiona 150 i-TFv OF bttetct:. 1774 even on trifling occasions, were sometimes marked by rude- ness and ferocity. Burke, with more amenity of manners and regard to the forms of society, rarely permitted his na- tural ardour of feeling to hurry him into coarseness in private life ; and on public occasions only where great inte- rests were at stake and where delicacy was neither necessary nor deserved. Viewed in every light, both were men of such powers of mind, as we rarely see, from whom no species of .earn- ing was hidden, and to whom scarcely any natural gift had been denied; who had grasped at all knowledge with avaricious eagerness, and had proved themselves not less able to acquire than qualified to use this intellectual wealth. None were more liberal in communicating it to others, with- out that aftectation of superiority in Burke at least, which renders the acquisitions of pedants oppressive, and their intercourse repulsive. Whether learning, life, manners, politics, books, or men was the subject — whether wisdom was to be taught by precept and example, or recreation pro- moted by amusing and instructive conversation— they were all to be'enjoyed in the evening societies of these celebrated friends. The dissolution of Parliament in autumn threatened to leave him without a seat. Lord Verney, pressed by involve- ments which Burke knew and feelingly regretted, could no longer return him. Some active admirers had talked, if not decided, that he should stand for Westminster on the popu- lar interest, and among these was Wilkes, who however on Lord Mahon's being started, forgot his own proposition, or as Burke phrases it to Lord Rockingham, " my friend found the great patriot's memory as treacherovis as everything else about him." A fit of despondency at this time was only conquered by natural good spirits and determined energy. He saw only private life before him ; but whether so or not, resolved that nothing shoidd interfere with perfect indepen- dence of conduct and opinion. To the same nobleman he wrote, " Whether I ought not totally to abandon this public station for which I am so unfit, and have of course been so unfortunate, I know not. * * * Most assuredly I will never put my feet within tlie doors of St, Stephen's Chapel without being aa much my own master as hitherto 1 have been, and at liberty to pursue the same course." 1774. BEISTOL ELECTIOK. 151 A glimmering of expectation had indeed flitted before him two mouths previously, thousli for the moment no more than a glimmer. The Eev. Dr. Wilson, an Irish clergyman resident for some time at Clifton Hot Wells for health, R-rote nim two letters, saying that several eminent merchants had him privately in view for Bristol in conjunction with Mr, Cruger just arrived from IS^ew York. Grreat secresy was en- joined ; but after a short time this transient hope seemed extinguished, when an offer from Lord Eockingham sent him off to the electors of Malton. A small, though not an uncommon incident of the time, diversified the commence- ment of the journey. Two highwaymen robbed him of ten. guineas on Fmchley Common, and his servant of his watch. Malton, however, was reached without further misadventure where he was duly elected its representative. The late gleam of popularity had in the meantime growTi into a flame. While expressing his acknowledgments for the honour done him, and on the point of sitting down at dinner, a deputation from the merchants of Bristol who had travelled rapidly to London and from London to Yorkshire, in search of him, arrived to propose his becoming a candi- date for their city, or rather to accede to the nomination, which had been already made by the leading men there. This, to one who bad occasionally shown less regard for popularity than prudence demanded, was an unexpected honour — too handsome in itself and in the mode conferred to be refused. It was an oftering solely to his public merits and commercial knowledge ; and the favour was enhanced by the promise of being returned free of expense, an essential consideration to a man of his confined fortune. Obtaining the ready assent of his Malton friends to this change of destination, he set off at six o'clock in the evening of Tuesday, and travelling night and day arrived about half- past two on Thursday the thirteenth of October, and the sixth day of the poll, a distance then of about 230 miles. He drjve to the house of the Mayor, but not finding him at home proceeded to the Guildhall, where ascending the hustings, and saluting the electors, sherifis, and other can- didates, he reposed for a few minutes being utterly ex- hausted by fatigue and want of sleep, and then addressed the citizens in a speech which met ^^ith great approbation. Jiichard Burke, who had gone thither from London to act in 152 LIFE OF BURKE. 1774 his absence, writing October 11th, says, "Edmund did not know the face of one of the Bristolians six days ago ; and on this day he knows but two." After a contest protracted to the last moment, he was re- turned on the third of November. In a powerful address of thanks delivered on the occasion, he exhibited what many thought too rigid a degree of independence on being pressed as to whether he meant to vote in Parliament according to his own opinion, or to the wishes of his constituents. The question at such a moment w^as vexatious enough ; for a ne- gative might imply on his part something like ingratitude. But above all evasion or temporizing, he respectfully though firmly, claimed the privilege at all times of following the dictates of his own opinions and conscience. His reasons, among the more reflecting class of politicians, have set the question for ever at rest. No one has thought it necessary to add to them, or prudent to answer them ; although he complained at the moment of want of time and preparation for the discussion. The speech is well worth j^erusal by all placed in the sometimes conflicting positions of electors and candidates. An instance of his promptitude to seize any incident that offered to aid or illustrate his aim at the moment, was told frequently by the eminent Dissenting divine Eobert Hall, as having come under his own knowledge. While canvassing Bristol, Burke and his friends entered a house where the wife of the owner was reading her Bible. "I have called. Madam, to solicit the favour of your husband's vote and interest in the present election. You, I perceive," placing his finger on a passage that caught his eye, ' are making your calling and election sure.^ " I^ot so was the wit of his brother candidate, Mr. Cruger, a merchant in the American trade, who, at the conclusion of one of Mr. Burke's eloquent harangues, finding nothing to add, or perhaps as he thought to add with eftect, exclaimed earnestly in the language of the counting-house, " I say ditto to Mr. Burke— I say ditto to Mr. Burke." With such an example, before him however he must have improved materially in the art of delivering his sentiments in public, for in tlie succeeding session he spoke on American business several times with sufiicient spirit. I774l. PAELIAMEIfTAET BUSINES3 158 CHAPTEE VI. Parliamentary Business — Speech on American Conciliation— Anecdotes of Drs. Franklin, Priestley, and Mr. Hartley — Round Robin on Gold- smith's Epitaph — Epitaph on Mr. Dowdeswell. — Use of a f,^ood Speech in Parliament — Letters to the Sheritfs and two g'entlemen of Bristol — • To Lord Charlemont, Barry, Mr. Francis, Mv. Fox, Dr. Robertson — Speeches on the Address and Employment of the Indians — Statue pro- posed in Dublin — Admiral Keppel — Letter to Sir William Jonefa. It vras the common lot of Mr. Burke during much of his political life, to see fulfilled in the recess the predictions he had made during the preceding session. So was it with the scheme for shutting up the port of Boston, which more than realised his worst anticipations. The result was a concen- tration of the most turbulent spirits of the colonies into a congress, where almost at their first meeting and wholly un- known to their constituents, was laid the plan of total sepa- ration from the mother-country. At the meeting of Parliament, Lord Rockingham again contemplated a system of inaction by Opposition, which was however successfully combated by Burke in a letter written to him in the end of December. A variety of petitions from merchants and manufacturers, deprecating hostilities, flowed into the House of Commons, which were strenuously though ineffectually seconded by the Member for Bristol. The reports which exist of four or five of the speeclies on these petitions though extremely scanty, give some idea of the vehemence and ingenuity with which he opposed the hostile spii'it toward America, and the variety of matter brouglit to bear upon the question. In concluding an animated harangue (26th of Jan. 1775,) he used a beautiful illustration which drew great applause, of an archer about to direct an arrow to the heart of his enemy, but found that in his adversary's arms was enfolded his own child. This incident he recom- mended with cautionary admonition to those statesmen who had in contemplation the destruction of America, unmindful that they could not accomplish so baneful a purpose, without at the same time plunging a dagger into the vitals of Great Britain. " Let your commerce," said he, " come before you — see whether it be not your child that America Isis in its arms — see of what value that child is — examine anc consider 154 LI^T-, OF BTJKKE. 1775. whether you ought to shoot — aud if j'ou must shoot, shoot so as to avoid wounding what is dearest to you in the world. — Without examining your trade you cannot do this." For his exertions on these occasions a handsome letter of thanks was forwarded, signed by fifteen of the principal merchants of Birmingham. Two more important, though indirect, tributes to his public wisdom appeared soon afterward in the proceedings of the House of Lords. One, the declaratory act of 1766 said to be chiefly his and censured then by Lord Chatham, was now adopted by his Lordship as the groundwork of a plan which he brought forward in the Lords to conciliate America. The other respected the taxation of that country which Mr. Burke had so long ineffectually reprobated, when on an incidental allusion to that measure, Lords North, Mansfield, Camden, the Duke of Grrafton and others, all of whom were advisers of the Crown at the time it was adopted, now to the surprise of the nation utterly and angrily disclaimed having taken any part in its origin. The subsequent evidence of Mr. Penn, at the bar of the House of Lords, also seemed to imply that America would have been quiet had things re- mained on the footing left by the Rockingham Administration. Undeterred by the failure just alluded to of Lord Chatham's scheme in the House of Lords for quieting the troubles in America, Mr. Burke on the 22d of March, 1775, introduced his celebrated thirteen propositions to accomplish the same object, urged to the attempt it appears by the persuasions of Mr. Eose Fuller, whose motion for the abolition of the tea duty he had supported the preceding year. His re- luctance to come forward on this occasion and the aim of the measure itself, were stated with modesty yet force. Strangers, as had been the case in others of his best speeches, were rigidly excluded by the standing orders. The public at large therefore knew imperfectly what was said. Truth thus lost its main influence, and eloquence much of its power, where few were to hear them but a hostile ministerial audience. Of this he often, sometimes humourously sometimes indignantly, complained; and it will account for the little weight for some time given to his opinions excepting by the iutelligent few, who fully understood the subjects and rendered him their meed of admiration. He divided on this occasion only 78 — then indeed considered a large minority. 1775. AMEEICAN AFFAIES, 155 Of the moral ai.d physical character of America he had gained so perfect an acquaintance, that the sketch then dra\yn both of the country and people, though so many years have elapsed, is nearly as fresh and accurate as any of the present day, and is in fact sometimes quoted by those who write upon the United States. It had been as we have seen, an early sub- ject for his pen ; his opinions had been formed he expressly tells us, before he entered Parliament ; the subject had been one of frequent deliberation while there ; and its importance induced him favoured by his connexion with the country as colonial agent, to consult every source of informa- tion written and oral, in order to become master of the points in dispute, and guided by circumstances to point out the wisest policy for England to pursue. The case was different with the Ministry, or rather the succession of Ministries, of the day, who flitting into and out of the Cabinet like the shadowy figures of a magic lantern, had little time for maturing a plan, and scarcely for continuity of thought on the subject. His opinions were strengthened by various private state- ments received from that country, of which he had many. Among others was a long one received in January from General Lee already mentioned, so clear and comprehensive on the imanimity which actuated the American people in the spirit of resistance, their military feeling and resources, that it must have made no small impression on an inquiring statesman, though tinged perhaps by some republican feelings in the writer. Its spirit however was deprecatory, nob hostile ; and the results proved his anticipation but too true. The views of Burke on the general question at this time may be stated in a few words, as by some who even profess to write history, they are sometimes misrepresented or mis- imderstood. America had imperceptibly become a great country without seeming to aim at, or scarcely to know it — formed for strength as some men are born to honours by a decree beyond their own control. It was unwise to irritate her to hostile exer- tion of this strength by injudicious imposts, when her natural inclination was for peace and trade ; she might be influenced by mildness and persuasion, but would probably resist any thing resembling arbitrary command. 156 LIFE or BUEKE. 1775. He coutended for the general supremacy of Parliament and the imperial rights of the Crown as undoubted, though these should be exercised with great reserve over, not a colony but a nation, situated at a great distance and difficult if it were at all possible, to coerce. In compliance with the unanimous feeling of the people of that nation, all the internal details especially tliat of taxation, should remain as hitherto with their provincial assemblies ; that a parliamentary revenue such as now aimed at, was next to impossible. England had never enjoyed and never would enjoy, a direct productive revenue from any colony, but at all events to trust for it rather to voluntary grants as in Ireland, than to authoritative requisitions : that all harsh acts be repealed : that the colonies be placed on the same footing toward the mother-country as in 1766 ; that a feeling of friendly con- cession alone could govern a people free in spirit and in fact, spread over a vast extent of country, and increasing at an unusual rate in numbers. Peace should be sought in the spirit of peace, not in severe parliamentary enactments ; and quoted as examples of the success of lenient measures, the instances of Ireland, Wales, Chester, and Durham : that the rights of taxation being relinquished, all moderate men would be conciliated ; but if more than all these should be required, then it would be time for us to turn round with a decided negative. The speech by which the propositions were recommended, knowTi as that on American Conciliation, excited general admiration, and in power did not fall short of that of the preceding year. Lord Chatham, when asked his opinion at the time, replied, " it is very seasonable, very reasonable, and very eloquent." Mr. Fox nearly twenty years afterwards, applying its views to Parliamentary Eeform said, " Let gentlemen read this speech by day, and micditate upon it by night ; let them peruse it again and again, study it, imprint it on their minds, impress it upon their hearts — they would there learn that representation was the sovereign remedy for every evil." Lord Erskine also at Edinburgh, touching on the same theme observed, " It coidd only proceed from this cause (the alleged corruption of Parliament), that the immortal orations of Burke against the American war did not produce as genera] eouviction as they did unmingled admiration." This perhaps 1775 AMEBICAN AFFAIES. 157 was not wholly correct. Mr. Burke himself, when removed from the heat of debate more than once candidly confessed, that the country gentlemen wanted a partner in bearing the burden of taxation ; the King wished to see obedient siij)jects rather than independent allies ; the body of the nation which was as jealous of undisputed sovereignty as either, fully se- conded their views ; and the wisdom of the House of Com- mons alone unsupported by the people, at length put an end to the contest. Towards the close of the session after three months almost daily discussion of American affair's, he presented a remonstrance from New Tork, hitherto a quiet and loyal colony, upon the harshness shown to her sister states. This met with the same reception from the Ministry as the other innumerable petitions and agents did from Lords, Commons, and Privy Council ; that is, few of them were received and none deigned to be answered. In the mean time, first blood was drawn in the colonies at Lexington and Concord ; followed by the fight of Bunker's Hill ; the raising of regular armies ; the appointment of General Washington as Commander-in-chief; and other consequent measures, which left the chance of accommodation nearly hopeless. The rejection of all petitions tended much to alienation of the public feeling in America ; increased perhaps by the severity shown to so popular a man as Dr. Pranklin before the Privy Council the preceding year, on the Massachusets petition against the governor and deputy- governor of the province. To this Mr. Burke had alluded in the letter to General Lee in 177 J^, without venturing to comment on it with his usual prophetic ingenuity and force. Dr. Franklin whom he had kuo^vn for several years, gave, for so wary a politician, an unusual proof of esteem and con- fidence, by calling upon him in April of this year (1775), the day previous to finally quitting London, and openiug his mind without apparent reserve. The doctor said he looked to the approaching contest with the most painful feelings. ^Nothing could give him more csorrow than that separation between the mother country and colonies, which now seemed inevitable from the obstinate and unaccommodating temper of England ; adding, that America had enjoyed many happy days under her rule previous to this imhappy dispute, and might possibly never see sucli again. 158 LIFE OF BUKKE, 1775. Among ourselves, dissensions on account of this agitating topic ran high. The old distinctions of Whig and Tory were revived with all their original acrimony, and Mr. Burke as the oracle of the former, came in for a large sliare of censure, particularly from Dean Tucker, who represented him as the most artful reasoner living ; one who coiild amuse with tropes, and figures, and fine words, without allowing his design to be seen, till he had entrapped the hearer or reader irrecover- ably in the meshes of his argument. Other political writers joined in the cry, who admitting his extraordinary powers, affected to consider them degraded by his becoming so deter- mined a party man, and partizan of the contumacious colonies. Several even of his friends inconsiderately appeared to join in the latter opinion, as if it were possible for any leading English statesman to be otherwise than what is termed a party man. He who expects to lead in political life must of a necessity on first entering into it, either form a party of his own or attach himself to one of the two great divisions in. the state. Though the choice of such associates rests vnth himself, it is oftener determined, especially among young men of rank, by the politics of his friends or family con- nexions. Should he profess perfect independence on all points, he will find little or very hollow support in an assembly where above all others, some certain support is necessary. Without it, he cannot calculate on the humble merit of being merely useful, and certainly cannot become great. With a party on the contrary, he may rise into consequence. He has tlie advantage of profiting by older heads and minds equal if not superior to his own ; and to use the language of Burke on another occasion, " he who profits by an equal understanding, doubles the power of his own." Scarcely any man jumps into Parliament an able statesman, more than he can start at the bar with his first brief an accomplished lawyer, or enter the field with his ensign's commission a finished soldier. He must first learn to submit and to serve, and in time may acquire the skill to command. It is useless, there- fore, to complain of a politician being a party man. We may as well complain that the independence of the Hmbs is sacrificed by being affixed to the body, without remembering that it is union alone which makes either useful. Among his other labours was that of drawing up protesta for the opposition Peers, two of which were required in 1775. TAEIETT OF HIS OCCUPATIONS, 159 Febnmrv by the Duke of Eicbmond ; and there is no doubt that he furnished all that proceeded from the Eockingham party up to the death of the Marquis. During the summer, he made a short excursion to Bristol, rather to please his con- stituents than himself, besides a few visits to some of the influential members of the party. But from an extensive cor- respondence on various subjects, it vrould seem as if he was rarely without a pen in his hand. Complimentary letters and iji return occasional dedications of books were not wanting. I/ord North sometimes was civil enough to give him notice of approaching motions ; Dr. Franklin wrote from Phila- delphia that his health formed a toast at their dinners ; Mrs. Dowdeswell requested an epitaph for her husband ; Lord Rockingham the draught of a general protest from opposition Lords against the measures of Ministry ; Lords Abingdon and Craven the form of a petition fi'om Berkshire ; the Duke of Eichmond,and some eminent mercantile men wrote letters expressive of their admii*ation of his wisdom and eloquence ; while the former in evidence of his sincerity begged of him to sit to Eomney for his picture. Nothing could be more flattering than the universal estiu>ate formed of his powers. He seemed to be thought capable of doing everything well, and his shoulders sufiiciently strong to bear any amount of labour. He would not however comply with the wish of the American Congress and its agents in London to present their petition to Lord Dartmouth, on the ground that New York for which he acted had not joined the Congress. One of his observations at this time exhibits the degree of foresight evinced on all great questions. Lord Rockingham had written to him that the King and people would soon see the error of their conduct to America. His reply was, — " I do not think that weeks, or even months, or years, will bring the Monarch, the Ministers, or the People, to feeling — such a feel- ing I mean as tends to amendment or alteration of system." His father-in-law Dr. Nugent, died in Suftblk Street in November, a worthy and intelligent man, who Dr. Johnson not only loved, but used to profess himself proud of believing he stood high in his esteem. He was the author of a new theory of Hydrophobia, and is often mistaken for Dr. Nugent, who published his travels, a translation of Benvenuto Cellini, and other works. In Decembei', he lost another valued friend and warm admirer in Admiral Sir Charles Saunders, 16(1 LIFE or BUEKE, 1775, pronouncing on tlie same evening, an animated apostrophe to his memory in the House of Commons. The coercive spirit manifested in the Address at the opening of the session, brought him forward in a forcible appeal to the House to pause in measures of force ; suppli- cating Ministry to assume some other tone than that of violence, — not to let England come to the discussion, like the irritated porcupine with its quills, armed all over with angry acts of Parliament. Several petitions from the clothiers of Wiltshire gave him the opportunity of proposing, on the 16th of November, 1775, a new conciliatory scheme, grounded on the model of the statute of Edward I. de tal- lagio non concedendo. Tiu*ee plans he said were afloat for quieting America. Eirst, simple war in order to a perfect conquest ; secondly, a mixture of war and treaty ; thirdly, the best and in his opinion only practicable mode, peace founded on concession. Among other things he suggested the renunciation of taxation, the repeal of all obnoxious laws since 1766, a general amnesty and recognition of the Congress, in order to a final adjust- ment of grievances. A change in all these points he would not conceal, necessarily involved a change in the Ministers who had brought the country into the dilemma. Of this speech which occupied three hours and twenty minutes in the delivery, and was said by many who heard it to possess singular vigour and originality embracing a vast compass of matter British and American, only a poor abstract remains. It brought forward all the talents of the House in a spirit of emidative ingenuity, to the discussion ; and the division was the strongest that Opposition had been yet enabled to muster on the American question, the numbers against the previous question being 105 to 210. In the peroration he said he was confident both from the nature of the thing and from information which did not usually fail him, that this bill would restore immediate peace ; and as much obedience as could bo expected after so rude a shock given to the authority of government, and so long a continuance of public heats and disturbances. Eour days afterwards, the bill to prohibit all intercourse with America, known by the name of the Starvation Plan, received his unqualified reprobation. Petitions from the West-India and Nova-Scotia merchants stating their utter 1776. ME. DAYID HARTLEY. 161 ruin to be the consequence of it, were so cavalierly treated, that he moved an ironical resolution, in substance that the House, knowing all things relative to America, required no further information, Mr. Wilkes's motion for Reform he opposed; a humane measure of his own, for saving from depredation seamen and vessels wrecked, failed ; as did another concihatory scheme for America which he supported, proposed by Mr. David Hartley. This gentleman, representative for Hull, a very honest man, a sound Whig, and an indefatigable politician, was a long- winded and heavy orator ; so dull indeed, that the period of his rising often became a signal to desert the benches. Having some time after this thinned a full House down to a few dozens, he unexpectedly called for the Eiot Act to be read, to support or to explain something in the march of his argument. Mr. Burke, who sat near him, and had anxiously waited to speak to the question, could contain himself no longer, but jumping up, gave vent to his impatience by an irresistibly comic remonstrance that drew peals of laughter from all present, and which Lord North afterwards used to relate as one of the happiest instances of prompt wit be bad ever heard — " The Eiot Act ! my dear friend, the Eiot Act ! to what purpose ? don't you see that the mob is completely dispersed ? " That conciliatory measures were not altogether hopeless, notwithstanding acts of Congress to inflame the public mind of America, may be inferred from the difficultywith which tlue declaration of independence, in July of this year, was carried in that assembly itself — one of the most curious facts per- haps in modern history. Six states voted for, six against that measure ; and the delegates of Pennsylvania were equally divided in opinion, when at length a member who had hitherto opposed it, suddenly changed sides and decided the question. This hesitation among a body to avow in form and name that authority and independence which it possessed in fact — which had raised armies, fought battles, levied im- posts, and resisted the mother country by vote, injunction, proclamation, and every other possible mode, forms proof that the passions of moderate men, excited for a moment by the arts of the more designing, shrunk from the ultimate con- sequences of their own violence. It is an equal proof that the conduct of the English Ministry was imliappiiy deficient 162 LIFE or BUEKE. 1776. m wisdom, moderation, and address ; for otherwise, scales no nicely poised must have turned in the favour of their country. Some letters in the newspapers this summer, under the signature of Valens, noticed by Burke in his correspondence were attributed to him, though said to be really written by William Burke, who spoke in the House occasionally be- tween 1768 and 1774, but found himself much better qualified to wield his pen than his tongue. The judgment of Edmund on topics not political was pretty well estimated even in Downing Street, for we find at this period his opinions on the employment of convict labour in England sought by Mr. "William Eden then in office and afterwards Lord Auckland. With Mr. Champion, a merchant of Bristol and one of his strenuous supporters, a confidential and frequent correspondence was kept up during this and several subsequent years. The Duke of Eichmond gave him a letter of several pages from France; in October he likewise applied to him for a protest ; and an amendment to the address, probably suggested by his Grrace or Lord Eocking- ham, appears in his papers. Fatigued no doubt by incessant political thinking and wrangling, he sought frequent relief in the literary society of which he was always so fond. Mr. Arthur Young, going on his well-known tour through Ireland, received from him a letter of introduction to Lord Charlemont, remarkable for its elegance of expression, and for some of the sentiments on matters connected with the war. At a literary dinner party at Sir Joshua Eeynolds's about this time, Johnson's epitaph on Goldsmith became the sub- ject of conversation, when various emendations being pro- posed, and it being agreed that an English would be more appropriate than the Latin one, as well as moi-e consonant to the known opinions of their deceased friend, the only difficulty was who should undertake the task of announcing this act of learned rebellion towards one whom Smollett happily called, " The great Cham of literature." A round-robin, in the manner of discontented sailors, so as to conceal the party who first signs the remonstrance being jocularly proposed, was in the same spirit adopted. Dr. Bar- nard, Dean of Derry and afterwards Bishop of Limerick, drew up one accordingly replete with wit and humour. This how- ever being deemed to exhibit more levity than Johnson 1776. goldsmith's epitaph. 163 would like, Mr. Burke seized the pen, and promptly pro- ,duced the following, which, as Boswell remarks, shows the facility and ease with which he handled smaller matters as well as the greatest. " We, the circumscribers, having read with great pleasure an intended Epitaph for the monument of Dr. Goldsmith, which, considered abstractedly, appears to be, for elegant composition and masterly style, in every respect worthy of the pen of its learned author, are yet of opinion, that the character of the deceased as a writer, particularly as a poet, is perhaps not delineated with all the exactness which Dr. Johnson is capable of giving it. "VVe therefore with deference to his superior judgment, humbly request that he would at least take the trouble of revising it, and of making such additions and alterations as he shall think proper upon a farther perusal. But if we might venture to express our wishes, they would lead us to reqiiest that he would write the Epitaph in English rather than in Latin ; as we think that the memory of so eminent an English writer ought to be perpetuated in the language to which his works are likely to be so lasting an ornament : which we also know to have been the opinion of the late doctor himself." Hound the circle in which this was written were signed the names Edm. Burke, Thos. Franklin, Ant. Chamier, Gr. Colman, W. Vaskell, J. Eeynolds, W. Forbes, T. Barnard, E. B. Sheridan, P. Metcalf, E. Gribbon, Jos. Warton, Sir Joshua carried it and received for answer from Johnson, " that he would never consent to disgrace the walls of West- minster Abbey with an English inscription." — " I wonder," said he, " that Joe Warton, a scholar by profession, should be such a fool ;" adding, " I should have thought 'Mund Burke too would have had more sense." The terms in which this literary petition was couched in- dicate Mr. Burke's regard for Dr. Johnson's feelings, which on such matters were sometimes irritable ; and Johnson in turn, though in general little prone to consider the sensibili- ties of those he addressed, exhibited due consideration to those of Burke. When Goldsmith talked on one occasion of the difficulty of living on very intimate terms with a person from whom you differed on an important topic, Johnson replied, "Why Sir, you must shun the subject as to which you disagree. For instance, I can live very well with Burke ; I love his knowledge, his genius, his diffusion, and affluence of couver- 164 IlfE OF BTJEKE. 1770 sation ; but I woxild not talk to him of the EockingTiam party." On the question of epitaphs, Burke conceived the vernacular language of a country to be the most fitting for such in- scriptions, for though possibly not so durable as the Latin, yet sufficiently so to be intelligible whether to the learned or unlearned classes as long as it was likely to be preserved. The Grreeks he urged used no Latin, and the Latins no Greek inscriptions. His own practice invariably accorde(? with this opinion. That on Lord Eockingham, Mr. Dow- deswell. Sir George Savile, and the character of Sir Joshua Reynolds, are instances in point. It has been said that he wrote one for Lord Chatham. A flattering and vmsolicited compliment to his integrity came early in this year from his old friend the well-known Mrs. Montagu. Hearing that some of his friends in the city meant to start him for the Chamberlainship which was then vacant, she wrote off at once to say that as heavy sureties were necessary, she begged to be considered as one of the number. The total amount then was £40,000. But this and other testimonies of private regard could not divert feelings of gloom from public subjects. Writing to Shackleton in August, he says — " We are deep in blood. We expect to hear of some sharp affair every hour. God knows how it will be. I do not know how I can wish success to those whose victory is to separate from us a large and noble part of our empire ; still less do I wish success to injustice, oppression, and absurdity." The tenor of the Address (1776-77), and a motion by Lord John Cavendish, Nov. 6, 1776, respecting a procla- mation of General Howe at New York, drew from Mr. Burke in an animated address some warm remarks ; for which the great interests at stake and the decided conviction of our whole system of policy being wrong, forms the best apology. Towards Christmas, a resolution was again started by the Rockingham party to secede from Parliament on all questions connected with America, utter silence on their part being deemed the next best step to disregarded admonition. An Address to his Majesty explanatory of their views and reasons proposed to be presented in form by the leading menibers of both Houses, and another of similar tenor to the colonies, wero drawn up by Mr. Burke, and appear in his works. The forme* is a bold, dignified, and elaborate paper ; the latter perhaps not quite so good. It is certain the design did not originate ]777. PEOPOSED gECESSION". 165 with him. But when applied to for his sentiments, a letter to the Marquis of Eockingham, dated Jan. 6th, 1777, seems to approve the design. At the same time the objections are BO fully stated, with so clear a foresight of the probable con- sequences, remote and immediate, and the little hope of being effectually accomplished in consequence of the clashing in- terests of the minority, that the reader is impelled to draw a directly opposite conclusion to that of the writer. So thought the Marquis. The interview with the King, the delivery of the memorial, and the attempt at positive and ge- neral secession, such as at first contemplated, were aban- doned. He however did not attend or would not speak as often as usual : for writing in February, 1777, to Mr. Cham- pion, he says, "I stay from this as I do from all public busi- ness, because I know I can do no sort of good by attending." That such a decisive measure never can be proper under any circumstances, is perhaps saying too much. That it should be often resorted to, or in any but some formidable and pressing necessity, may perhaps indicate more of irritation than of wisdom. The crisis was certainly oue of the most momentous ever experienced by the country ; yet to secede under such circumstances, was not to meet, but to fly from the danger ; and in the then temper of the nation, could have only drawn disapprobation from one half of the people, and, probably ridicule from the other. Persuasion may in time do much, but silence can make few converts. To desert the field is not the way to subdue the enemy. Prequent failure in opposing what he may think the worst policy and in accomplishing his own most conscientious designs, are natural conditions in the existence of a Member of Parliament ; for which he who does not come prepared has not adequately considered the obligations of tlie office. A leader of Opposition indeed may imagine that in de- bating, he is only playing the game of the Minister, in throwing out hints from which the latter so far profits as to be enabled to prolong his power. It is also extremely dis- couraging to be constantly out-voted, when possibly not out- argued ; to spend time, labour, and ingenuity, " to watch, fast, and sweat night after night," as Burke himself forcibly expresses it, and not emerge from the slough of constant mi- norities. No person felt this more than he who complained of it. Yet none has more ably stated the necessity, and even 166 LIFE OF 75TTEKE. 1777. advantages resulting to the country and to the members so situated from a well-directed opposition than he has done, in a conversation Avith Sir Joshua Eeynolds. " Mr. Burke," said the painter, " I do not mean to flatter \ but when posterity reads one of your speeches in Parliament, it will be difficult to believe that you took so much pains,' knowing with certainty that it could produce no eflect ; that not one vote would be gained by it." " Waiving your com- pliment to me," replied the orator, " I shall say in general that it is very well worth while for a man to take pains to speak well in Parliament. A man who has vanity speaks to display his talents ; and if a man speaks well, he gradually establishes a certain reputation and consequence in the general opinion, which sooner or later will have its political reward. Besides, though not one vote is gained, a good speech has its eflect. Though an Act of Parliament which has been ably opposed passes into a law, yet in its progress it is modelled, and softened in such a manner that we see plainly the Minister has been told, that the members attached to him are so sensible of its injustice or absurdity from what they have heard, that it must be altered." " T*\\e House of Commons," he continued in reply to some other remarks, "is a mixed body; I except the minority, which I hold to be pure (smiling), but I take the whole House. It is a mass by no means pure, but neither is it wholly corrupt, though there is a large proportion of cor- ruption in it. There are many members who generally go with the Minister who will not go all lengths. There are many honest well-meaning country gentlemen who are in Parliament only to keep up the consequence of their families. Upon most of these a good speech wdU have influence." Again in allusion to this topic when it was remarked, there were always in Parliament a majority, who from various mo- tives, interested and disinterested, inclined to the support of government, he observed, " True, Sir, that majority will al- ways follow — " Quo clamor vocat et turba faventium.'* Sir Joshua asked what would be the consequence if a Minister sure of a majority, were to resolve that there should be no speaking at all on his side ? The reply was, " He must soon go out. That plan has been already tried, but it was found it woidd not do." 1777. LETTER TO THE 8MEEIFFS OF BRISTOL. 167 His position at this time with those who supported the war was somewhat peculiar, though to a public mau not un- expected. He had been long bitterly reviled as the factious though eloquent advocate of rebeUious America. He was now, for such is political hostility, almost equally censured for preserving on the same subject what was termed a factious silence. Occasionally Lord Rockingham was as much sneered at by the ministerial writers for being directed by an Irisli Secretary, as the King had recently been abused by Oppo- sition for being under the supposed influence of a Scottish favourite. To explain more at large to his constituents —to one of whom his friend Mr. Champion it was transmitted in manuscript — his reasons for seceding, and his general views on American matters, he drew up and published in April, 1777, the famous " Letter to the Sherifis of Bristol." This is one of his best pamphlets, and though written for a mo- mentary purpose, contains within it principles as to public matters of enduring value. He condemns by allusion, rather than in direct terms, the speculations of Drs. Price and Priestley which went to destroy all authority, as well as the deeds of those who fell into the other extreme of enforcing it beyond due discretion. It is couched in a warmer strain than he had hitherto employed against the authors of the war ; and the following solemn warning is only one among many instances of the prophetic spirit displayed in this as in most other great questions of his day. " I think I Imow America. If I do not, my ignorance is includable, for I have spared no pains to understand it : and I do most solemnly assure those of my constituents who put any sort of confidence in my industry and integrity, that every thing that has been done there has arisen from a total misconception of the object ; that our means of originally holding America, that our means of reconciling with it after a quarrel, of recovering it after separation, of keeping it after victory, did depend, and must depend, in their several stages and periods, upon a total renunciation of that uncon- ditional submission which has taken such possession of the minds of violent men." Previous to publication it was shown for the approval of the party to Lord Rockingham, Sir George Savile, Mr. Pox, and Mr. Ellis. A reply to it came from the eccentric Eai-1 oi i68 LIFE OP BUEKE. 1777. Abingdon, also a member of Opposition, who educated at Geneva, had caught something of the spirit of democracy, and with more zeal than discretion or patriotism is said to have made a present to Congress of an estate which he possessed in America. In the House of Lords he possessed Little weight. In the press he made a still worse figure against such an opponent, who on the piece being announced in the press wrote him a private letter, but gave no public reply ; — a mark of neglect which nettled his lordship not a little ; — though an anonymous writer assailed and exposed him with considerable powers of ridicule. In the midst of this political bustle, a claim was made upon his opinion in a matter of taste. That extraordinary character Barry, who possessed neither time that he could justly spare, nor wealth to support him in its progress, liad undertaken to decorate the great room of the Society of Arts with paintings gratuitously, and now solicited Mr. Burke to communicate his ideas on the most appropriate designs. From the answer to this application, there is little doubt that whatever merit there be in those great works, some portion of it is due to him ; the remark of Dr. Johnson when he saw them in 1783 being, " Whatever the hand may have done, the mind has done its part. There is a grasp of mind there which you will find nowhere else." The reply ran thus. " Mr. Burke presents his best compliments to Mr. Barry, and begs pardon for making use of another's hand in giving him his thanks for the great honour he has done him by in- scribing to him the print of Job ; as well as for the prints sent to his son Eichard of the other five designs : but being obhged to go out in great haste, after having been engaged in business for the whole morning, he is under the necessity of dictating this note while he is dressing. " Mr. Barry does him too much honour in thinking him capable of giving him any hints towards the conduct of the great design in which Mr. Burke is very happy to find he is engaged. Mr. Burke is, witliout any affectation, thoroughly convinced that he has no skill whatsoever in the art of painting ; but he will very cheerfully turn his thoughts towards recollecting passages of modern or middle history, relative to the cultivation of the arts and manufactures ; and Mr. Barry wiU judge better than he can, whether they arp such as wiU answer his purpose. 1777. INDIA APFAIE8. 169 " Mr. Burke "vnll have the pleasure of waiting on Mr. Barry, to communicate to him what occurs to him on the subject, at his first leisure moment." The arrears of the Civil List, and an increase of its annual amount, brought him forward again, severely censuring the wastefulness of Ministry. His interposition, in a happy mixture of argument and irony, saved Alderman Sawbridge, whose language was indecorous and disrespectful towards his Majesty, from pubHc reproof. It was on this subject that the speaker (Sir F. Norton), made his well known speech to the King, which gave such offence — " that your Majesty will apply wisely, what they (the Commons) have granted liberally." The motion for its approval was written by Burke and moved by Fox, amid much confusion. On another occasion an opponent was soon afterwards silenced by his wit. During one of the debates on Lord Bigot's recall from Madras, he had twice given way to other speakers, when observing the Chairman of the India Com- pany proceeding to read a variety of well-known pubhc papers instead of adducing any new arguments, he interrupted him by observing, " That if it were the object of tlie honour- able member to tire and thin the House by reading all the heavy folios on the table, he supposed in courtesy he must submit ; but to prepare for the task, he begged leave to send for his night-cap ;" which producing general laughter, was followed by a shout to him of — " go on ! go on !" In dis- cussing this subject in a very masterly manner, in connexion with the treatment of Lord Pigot by the contradictory votes of the proprietors of India Stock, he was cheered in an unpre- cedented manner, exciting in the language of contemporary vrriters, "such sudden and extraordinary biu-sts of approbation as were not warranted by the usual practice of the House." These in return produced some sharp animadversions from the other side, " that the wit displayed in turning the Company's late resolutions and conduct into ridicule, was as ill-placed and as improperly applied, as the theatrical applause which it produced was irregular and indecent." It was on this question that he first threw out doubts on the conduct of Mr. Hastings ; partly through communications from the Pigot family, partly from other friends resident in India. Among these was the late Sir Pliilip (then Mr.) Francis, a man of talents, independent mind with an abhor- rence ol any thing resembling oppression little inferior to 170 LIFE OF BTJEKE. 1777 that of Mr. Burke liimself, and a& has been said the supposed writer of Junius. To this gentleman with whom he had been early acquainted, he wrote on the rising of Parliament, strenuously recommending to his good offices his friend and associate William Burke, then proceeding to India to better his fortune. This gentleman soon became Agent to the Eajah of Tanjore, afterwards Deputy Paymaster- Gleueral for India, and is supposed to have supplied Edmund with much and minute information respecting that country. To Mr. Fox, who with Lord John Townshend spent the summer in Ireland in order to gain a nearer view of its in- terior politics, he wrote a confidential and interesting letter in October on the state of parties, giving the most friendly and disinterested advice on the best line of public conduct for him to pursue, and stating in his clear and impressive manner his opinion of the state of public feeling in England regarding the Whig party. It is printed in his works. In addition to this his chief letters during the year were to Lord Eockingham; Mr. Champion, Sir Abraham Elton, and others of Bristol ; General Oglethorpe ; Mr- Baker, member for Herts ; to Lord North on African matters ; and a few others. To the General he acknowledges " the most flattering mark of honour which I ever received," but the nature of this offering is unknown. Mr. Baker, whose regards seemed as strong as some of his public opinions, compliments him as "the gi'eat philosopher of Beacousfield," and " one of the most amiable and illustrious characters of the age." A sketch of him appeared shortly before this in one of the journals where others of the distinguished public men of the day were hit off, which with some censure as a party man and oracle of the Eockinghams, as well as of his manner as an orator, does justice to his powers. It is too long for quotation here, and one passage may suffice : — " No man in this country is so well qualified by nature and education to be Minister of the House of Commons. Mr. Burke's powers of persuasion would on some particu a occasions be irresistible if not counteracted or resisted by the weight and solidity of the precious metals. His sources of knowledge are extensive and inexhaustible ; and his materials drawn forth with great judgment. His memory is faithful and his mind teems with the most luxurious imagery, clothed in the most elegant language, and apt and happy mode of expression. His details often are interesting and important, 1777. EOBEETSON AIH) GIBBOI?. 171 but always correct ; his arguments plausible, generally logical, replete with information, and never supported on designed misrepresentation, or random assertions to answer the temporary purposes of debate. His facts are seldom assumed, and when they are, he founds them on certain current opinions, perhaps controverted, but known however to exist. This candour at once renders him the fairest adversary, and stamps his speeches with a certain air of credit, veracity and authority seldom due to his contemporaries in either house of Parliament. His knowledge of parliamentary business is so vast and multifarious, that there is no subject that comes under discussion, whether politics, finances, commerce, manufactures, internal police, &c., with their divisions and subdivisions which he does not treat in so masterly and technical a manner as to induce such as hear him to imagine he had dedicated a considerable portion of his life to the in- vestigation of that particular subject." A present from Dr. Robertson, of his History of America then recently published, drew from Mr. Burke an interesting letter critical and complimentary in allusion more especially to his 0^11 favourite topic, the study of human nature. He considered this the most useful of all studies to historian or politician, and was accustomed to say, that " a statesman deficient in this knowledge was not master of half his business." Contrary to the opinion of Johnson, who spoke slightingly of this author and who in fact cared little for such subjects, he was with Burke a favourite, at least as to manner, Not so Gibbon ; on the appearance of whose first volume the preceding year he called on Sir Joshua Eeynolds, and in the hearing of Northcote, pronounced the style vicious and affected, deformed by too much literary tinsel and frippery ; a sentence which many competent judges have since confirmed. The next session, 1777-1778, brought back the secedera of Opposition to the performance of their public duties. Those of Mr. Burke, were this year vmusually diversified and fatiguing. His seat at least was not a sinecure. Whatever else he spared, he never spared himself. He seemed often to be trying the experiment what compass of political in- terest and business it was possible for the human mind to embrace and retain ; what degree of labour in expounding them to endure. A few of the leading points are alone necessary to be alluded to here. On the first day of the 172 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1778. session, November 18tli, his address was thus noticed by a contemporary — " If it were possible, we ^/rovdd give a detail of a speech which, for the space of nearly two hours, com- manded the attention, and excited in lighter parts the laughter of all, and in the pathetic, drew tears from the sympathizing few." The navy estimates ; an inquiry into the state of the nation ; the ordnance estimates ; the raising of troops with- out consent of Parliament ; and private aids to the Crown, furnished him with opportunities for assailing the war and its conductors with great eflect. On one of these occasions, the fate of General Burgoyne's army (Dec. 3rd,) an incident occurred in his parliamentary life of which we have no other instance. " There were high words " writes Mr. Crawford to Lord Ossory * " between Wedderburne and Burke which so offended the latter that he went out of the House, and I believe intended to challenge Wedderburne, but was pre- vented by a letter from Wedderburne and an explanation likewise which he sent through Charles" — (Fox). He had it appears, laughed at a part of Wedderburne's speech when dead silence reigned in the House, so that it was heard ; this produced irritation, followed by what he imderstood to be either rudeness or a personal threat ; and thence the misunderstanding, which however was soon forgotten by both. On the 6th of February he introduced a motion for papers relative to the military employment of the Indians in the war in America, by a speech three hours and a half long, which excited not only extraordinary testimonies of admi- ration, but was considered by those who heard it the best he had ever delivered. The theme, as connected with the dictates of humanity possessed much interest, and in itself was peculiarly fitted to display some of his most popular qualities as a speaker. Strangers being as usual excluded from the gallery, no tolerable report or even abstract of it, has ever been published or perhaps preserved ; and thus we may often account for the little effects of his eloquence. The pathetic episode of Miss Macrae, a young lady be- trothed to a British officer, and entrusted to two Indiana to convey her to a place of safety, but who, quarreling by the road about the division of the expected quantity of rum promised as their reward, savagely murdered her at once to " Memorials and Correspondence of Fox by Lord John Russell, vol. I. II 1778. EMPLOYMENT OE THE INDIANS. 173 end tlie dispute — was so vividly painted as to excite an emotion of abhorrence against s izh. auxiliaries throughout the country. Heated by the fervour of the speaker, Colonel Barre in a fit of enthusiasm, offered to nail up the speech if pubKshed on every church door in the kingdom by the side of the proclamation for a general fast. Governor Johnstone thought it fortunate for the two noble lords (North and Germaine) that there were no strangers present, or their enthusiasm and indignation would have excited the people to tear them to pieces on their way home from the House. Sir George Savile said to many of his friends — " he who did not hear that speech, has not witnessed the greatest triumph of eloquence within memory." The minority was the largest yet obtained— 137 to 223. After all, it may be doubted whether this display of ora- torical power and on his part no doubt real humanity was not a party question. Congress would have engaged these allies if England had not anticipated the design ; and Lord Chatham though venting a torrent of indignation on the same side of the question in the House of Lords, could not disprove that the same allies were employed under his own administration twenty years before. Eleven days afterwards another tacit tribute to the wisdom of Mr. Burke's advice for an amicable adjustment of the differences with the Colonies, appeared in a conciliatory plan of Lord North, taken chiefly from that proposed by the former three years before. It was supported also by the same arguments, to the great indignation of many of his lordship's high Tory supporters in the House. Mr. Eox tauntingly congratulated the noble lord on at length becom- ing a proselyte to the doctrines of his honoui'able friend. The time however had gone by in which they could have effect. — The Minister, though a man of talent, pleasantry, and personal integrity, wanted enlargement of mind for the difficult circumstances around him. He was too often a long march in the rear of events ; his remedial measures came when they were forced, not voluntarily proffered- Easy in temper and indisposed to labour, he was like many other easy-tempered men— deficient in energy for great occasions ; — he could foresee or provide for little tiU it pressed upon him with overwhelming necessity. 174 LIFE or BUEKE. 1778. America now would accept nothing short of independence. The junction of France promised to enable her to attain this object,for which theMinister seemed quite unprepared though often dinned in his ears by the member for Bristol. Under this impression it became a question with Opposition whether to admit the claim of that country at once, and by so doiuo- secure commercial preferences to the mother country — an alliance offensive and defensive — and other advantages accru- ing from the kindly feelings produced by this concession and our remaining influence and old connexion ; or by per- sisting to contend for what appeared no longer attainable, not only lose those benefits ourselves, but throw them into the scale of France, our watchful enemy. To the former as an imavoidable result, Mr. Burke, after much deliberation, inclined — '' Not," he said, " as a matter of choice but of hard and overpowering necessity. In the latter light only could it be regarded. On the day that he first heard of the American states having claimed independency, it made him sick at heart ; it struck him to the soul, because he saw it was a claim essentially injurious to Great Britain, and one which she could never get rid of, never ! never ! never I It was not to be thought therefore that he wished for the independency of America. Far from it. He felt it as a circumstance exceedingly detrimental to the fame, and exceedingly detrimental to the interests of his country. But when by a wrong management of the cards, a gamester had lost much, it was right for him to make the most of the game as it then stood and to take care that he did not lose more." Lord Chatham as strenuously opposed any admission of the kind ; declaring that the independence of America once acknowledged the sun of England was set for ever, and in urging this sentiment in the House of Lords, was seized with that illness which terminated in his death. Deficient in some respects, and open to censure in many others, he was nevertheless the greatest war minister this couiltry ever possessed. But he was no prophet. Time, which has belied his prediction as to the dependence of England on Ame- rica, has shewn the superior judgment of the leader of the Eockiugham party. The latter, on the death of this great man being announced, rose superior to petty resentments and immediately urged in his place the necessity for the nation showing its sense of his services by a provision for hia 1778. lEISH TEADE. 175 family, in addition to all the posthumous honours it couJd bestow. He was also one of the pall-bearers at the funeral. A proposition by Lord Nugent to revise a series of op- pressive restrictions which existed on the trade of Ireland naturally claimed the serious consideration and support of Mr. Burke. His great effort was in a speech on the 6th of May, exhibiting a more comprehensive aud practical view of the commercial condition, intercourse, interests, aud capa- bilities of the kiugdoms, coutrastiug their comparative advantages aud defects, than had ever been given there be- fore. The grievance beiug undeniable, the motion was carried ; when suddenly a number of hostile petitions pour- ing in from the trading and manufacturing towns, diverted the minister from his purpose ; aud thus though a narrow and selfish system of policy had already driven America into revolt, yet with the fact before the eyes of every man in the kingdom, the very same policy again risked a contention with, if not the loss of Ireland. Bristol, taking a conspicuous part in the endeavour to re- press the trade of the sister island, called upon her represen- tative to support her views. The dilemma occasioned by this demand could not be otherwise than vexatious. His native country claimed justice ; while his constituents claimed his voice and vote. But regarding principle aud right above every consideration of prudence, he manfully avowed, that to comply with this desire, would be to sin against his conscience, against the first principles of justice, against the general prosperity of the empire, and however his constituents might think, against the truest interests of trade itself. " If, from this conduct," said he, " I shall forfeit their suff"rages at an ensuing election, it will stand on record an example to future representatives of the Commons of England, that one man at least had dared to resist the desires of his consti- tuents when his judgment assured him they were wrong." To state his reasons more fully for declining compliance with this call, he wrote in April and May, 1778, " Two Letters to Gentlemen of Bristol on the Bilk relative to the Trade of Ireland." These expound, in a few touches, some of the chief principles of commerce ; such as the ad\antage of free intercourse between all parts of the same kingdom ; the necessity of reciprocity of benefits ; the evils attending restriction and monopoly ; the advantage to ourselves of all our customers, and more particularly oui' fellow-subjects as 176 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1778, the Irish were, being rich rather than poor ; and that the gain of others is not necessarily our loss, but on the contrary an advantage by causing a greater demand for such wares aa we have for sale. Political economists now consider these truths the mere alphabet of their science. Merchants, until lately, if they did not deny them in theory, could rarely be brought to approve the greater part in practice. Exclusions and restrictions, the depression of one body of individuals or district of country to exalt or enrich another, belonged too much to their then more confined opinions. His arguments, which were then in a great degree new, produced Ktfcle effect in the quarter he wished. The people of Bristol could not be convinced there was equity or policy in giving a free trade with the British colonies and dependencies to Ireland. His determination to persevere in a wise and just course con- tinued unchanged, adding, " While I remain under this un- alterable and powerful conviction, you will not wonder at the decided part I take. It is my custom so to do when ] see my way clearly before me ; and when I know that I am not misled by any passion, or any personal interest, which in this case I am very sure that I am not." Another offence in the eyes of his constituents was his vigorous support of Sir George Savile's biU for the EeHef of the Eaman Catholics, then suffering by the severity of the penal laws in force against that body. It was in fact be- lieved by his friends to be wholly his own or by his recommen- dation, though brought forward under another name in order to avoid popular odium ; which it might escape as the measure of an independent and influential country gentle- man. Its justice was immediately recognized by the almost unanimous votes of both Houses of Parliament. Among his correspondents this year were Boswell in a complimentary vein ; Charles Fox ; Wedderburue, the Solicitor- General, asking for information on the subject of "Tests," saying that he would rather trust to his (Burke's) knowledge than to any researches of his own. Nearly all his supporters at Bristol being opposed to the opening of the trade of Ireland, much of his time was employed in the spring in combating their opinions privately. To this end many long letters were written ; nor would he bend in the least to their solicitations or arguments. From Ireland he had among others, several letters from the Speaker 1777. lEISH AFPAIES. 179 of the Irish House of Commons, and Un,:.er-Secretary, on measures for the relief of the Roman Catholics ; and a present from a body of members of that creed of three hundred guineas, to be followed by two hundred more, in proof of their sense of his exertions. This gift he promptly declined. A letter to the Speaker on the former topic ap- pears in his works. At this period Dublin was enthusiastic in his praise. A design, warmly seconded by the public, was even announced to him by the same gentleman, of erecting his statue in that city. This contemplated honour proved but a spurt of gratitude soon forgotten, and never since revived. So that this great man, the most illustrious, in many respects, which that city or the nation ever pro- duced, who had he been born in Scot and, would be almost deified by the people, has not in Ireland procured a single stone to his memory. The only tributes of respect known to the writer are a picture in the examination theatre of Trinity College, and a bust in its library. An imfeigned humility made him shrink from the idea of a statue. His observations on it above a year afterwards, in a letter to a member of the Irish legislature on her domestic affairs when his popularity there had declined, are marked by his accustomed force and truth : — - " I too have had my holiday of popularity in Ireland. I have even heard of an intention to erect a statue. I believe my intimate friends know how little that idea was encouraged by me ; and I was sincerely glad that it never took eftect. Such honours belong exclusively to the tomb — the natui'al and only period of human inconstancy, with regard either to desert or to opinion; for they are the very same hands which erect, that very frequently (and sometimes with reason enough) pluck down the statue. Had such an luimerited and uuldoked for compliment been paid to me two years ago, the fragments of the piece might at this hour have the ad- vantage of seeing actual service, while they were moving according to the law of projectiles, to the -R-indows of the Attorney- General, or of my old friend Monk Mason." In a sharp debate on the ordnance estimates soon aft«M this time, no reply being given to his questions respecting their unusual amount and the Speaker proccediag to put the question, he declared he would not sutler it to pass until some explanation was given. After a pause, it appeared 178 liljrE OF BUKKE. li/. that not one of the board knew any thing practically of the subject. Touching on the point of order which had been alluded to at the moment, he considered it he said contemp- tible, when instead of forwarding, it stood in opposition to the substance of their duty; and long afterward boasted that during all the years he had sat in Parliament, he had never called any member to order. The indecisive action of Admiral Keppel with the French fleet during the summer of 1778, and tlie dissension to which it gave rise with Sir Hugh Palliser his second in command, became a theme for general contention. In fact almost every person ranged himself on the side of one or other of the parties. For the Admiral, who had been taken from the ranks of Opposition to command the fleet, Mr. Burke had a most warm regard, having first met him at the house of Sir Joshua Eeynolds to whom the Admiral had been an early patron. PoUtical connexion improved the acquaintance into close and lastijig friendship, of which the apostrophe to his memory in a " letter to a noble lord," is a proof ; and at the same time perhaps one of the most eloquent tributes to a dead friend in our language. The Admiral felt reciprocal admiration, and had, as well as his old commander Sir Charles Saunders and others of the party declared of the orator " that if the country were to be saved, it could be only by the virtue and abilities of that wonderful man." When the former was about to undergo the ordeal of a court-martial, this attached friend accompanied him to Portsmouth, received from him there his picture by Reynolds, as a species of legacy in case the court-martial in their sentence should decide against his honour and character, remained with him during much of the trial, and is reported to have assisted in arranging his defence. To this there is some allusion in the letter to a noble Lord as " his faithful companion and counseller in his rudest trials ^ His own interests were about this time or soon after, attacked by Lord Verney in a suit in Chancery, calling upon him, in conjunction with his brother Eichard and AV^illiam Burke as partners with his Lordship, to bear part of the loss sustained by unsuccessful speculations in the funds. This participation he denied by afiBdavit ; nor was the circumstance probable in itself, or some better evddence of it would have been adduced tlian that nobleman could bring forward on I 1.778. HIS PEIYATE AFFAIES. 170 the occasion. They had not in fact been friends for some time ; and though his brother Richard, and William Burke participated in the transaction, it was scarcely fair to call upon Edmund to pay their debts of honour, as in such things there could be no legal claim. Some degree of misrepresen- 1 atiou having prevailed upon this point, it may be necessary to state, that as a holder of India stock, he might have pro- fited by this property as any other man would do in its variations in the market, though even this is doubtful ; but there seems no valid foundation for the report of his gambling in the fimds, which was not merely at variance with his habits but his principles. Neither would he have ventured to risk a high and good name in such transactions. Another charge urged against him, as if it were not a mis- fortime rather than fault, was that of being in debt. Let it be remembered, that the rental of his estate was not estimated at more than £Q00 per annum if so much, which with uis Irish property, occasional supplies, and the produce of his literary labours, formed nearly the whole of liis income after the cessation of the agency for New York. Moving in the sphere of life in which he did, this must be confessed to be a poor pittance. Tet out of this, it may be stated, as he more than once mentioned the fact himself, he contributed to the sup- port of several poorer relations, which of course could only be eftected by very rigid economy. To one relative near Castle- town Eoche he allowed £S0 per annum out of the property in that vicinity ever since he came into possession in 17G5. We have just seen that he had refused a present of five hun- dred guineas from the Eoman Cathohcs which might have been accepted without the slightest imputation of any kind. He had, in fact, no extravagant propensities to indulge. His domestic arrangements were wholly under the prudent management of his lad^. His coach-horses took their turn in the plough. His table, to which men of merit or distinction in every class were always welcome, partook of neatness and moderation, not parade or profusion. At Beaconsfield, he preserved a frank and cheerful hospitality which those who enjoyed once were glad of the opportunity of joining again ; and while in town, he frequently asked pohtical and literary friends to dine or sup as it happened on beef-steaks, or a leg of mutton, and commonly gave no more than his invitation professed. Of this an iustancf is related which as an al'ter 180 LIPE OF BIJEKE. 1778. dinner story tells rather amusingly, but the reader is only called upon for such credence as he thinks proper. Ha\'ing been detained late in the House, he asked Fox, Lord John Cavendish, and two or three more of the party to sup, when on announcing the object of their visit to Mrs. Burke, a look of annoyance and despair sufficiently told the ill-provided state of the larder. A pause ensued ; " surely " said the host with a comic face " there is beef enough !" Fox and two oi three others making an apology for momentary absence hurried otf to a neighbouring tavern, provided themselves each with a dish of such fare as could be procured, and amid much lavighter from all parties, particularly the master of the house who cracked some jokes on their skill as waiters, passed an amusing evening. Another accusation urged against him at this time was, that he displayed much more ability than candour in harass- ing Ministry with the most unmeasured condemnation. The same may be said of all Oppositions ; and looking to the magnitude of the contest, the incapacity shown in its con- duct, and the unfortunate results, it will be difficult to say that his censures were unfair, ill-timed, or unjust. Mr. Fox was upon all occasions more violent and much more personal, to a degree beyond even the usual parliamentary license. He constantly wore in the House what was considered the American uniform, buff and blue, which Burke excepting when solicited so to do which was not unfrequently the case, declined to make his common dress. The most moderate men in fact, lost their equanimity on this topic ; and Messrs. Wilkes, Sawbridge, and others of the same stamp, were sometimes said to be almost scurrilous ; for on no preceding occasion had debates run so high. Even the House of Lords often forgot its characteristic decorum, in the violence of the language used towards the Ministry. This spirit found ample vent in the session, 1778-79, in a series of motions by Mr. Fox, on the state of the Navy ; of Greenwich Hospital; an address to the King to remove Lord Sandwich, which were supported by Burke. He also took part on the question of the threatening manifesto of the Commissioners sent to negotiate with America: on the state of Ireland ; on Mr. Duuning's motion respecting the powers of the Admiralty to grant or refuse Courts Martial ; on an inquiry into the conduct of the American War; on the II 1779. lETSH VOLTTNTEEES. 181 Budget ; on a Bill for exemptions from being pressed into the Navy ; and on another for limited service iu the Army — a measure which he recommended by the strongest argu- ments, and though then rejected, it has since been as wisely as liberally adopted to the benefit of the serdce. Early iu 1779, among many of the first characters of the time, he followed his old acquaintance G-arrick to the grave. Looking stedfastly towards the place of interment he re- marked to one of the gentlemen present that " the spot was well chosen, for the statue of Shakspeare seemed to point to the grave where the great actor of his works was laid." A present from the admired and accomplished JVIr. (afterwards Sir William) Jones, of his translation of the Greek orator Isaeus, the master of Demosthenes, whose orations as expla- natory of the laws of property in Athens are necessarily interesting to a lawyer though perhaps for the same reason hitherto neglected by grammarians and philologists, drew from Mr. Burke oue of his just and discriminating letters. Ireland, notwithstanding his renewed endeavours in her favour, being still denied her due share in the commerce of the empire, came to a variety of resolutions against importing British manufacture. With still more efi"ect in the way of threat, she formed her memorable volunteer associations, "nothing resembling which," said Lord Sheffield, \vritiug a few years afterwards, " has ever been observed in any country at least where there was an established government." Even Scotland was not quiet. The concessions to the Koman Catholics in the preceding year instigated a mob not only to raze their chapels to the ground, but to destroy their private houses and property. A petition from this body, praying for compensation for their losses and security against further injury, was presented by Mr. Burke, who foundau opportunity! on this occasion for exercising his wit, though as a Scripture phrase perhaps not in the best taste, to the great amusement of the House. Observing Lord North to be asleep, a fre- quent failing of that nobleman in public, at the moment he was attributing the popular excesses to the supineness of those in power, he instantly turned the incident to advantage — " Behold," said he, pointing to the slumbering Minister, " what I have again and again told you, that Government if not defunct, at least nods ; brother Lazarus is not dead, only Bleepeth." 182 LIFE OF EH EKE. 1779. Several letters from Scotland exculpating the clergy and certain societies from inciting the mob to violence against Eomanists, were addressed to him in reply to some remarks made in the House, which he answered. To Bristol likewise he sent several private communications, in the hope of en- lightening and liberalizing his friends there towards Ireland ; also to Lord Rockingham and others. But in May, writing to Shackleton, a fit of depression or vexation, on a stale of public affairs wiiich all remonstrance or argument failed to remedy or influence overtook him with more than usual effect on his mind, and he expresses his readiness to retire altogether from public life. CHAPTEE VII. Economical Rrform — Letter on Parliamentary Reform. — Conduct during" the Riots —Intercedes for mercy towards the Rioters. — Elocution Walker —Slave Trade — Rejection at Bristol — The Prince of AVides, Mr. Burke, and the Curate — Anecdote of Mr. Burke's humanity and playful hu- mour — Note to Sir W. Jones — Opposed to Mr F'ox on the repeal of the Marriag-e Act — Mr. Sheridan — Shearing' the Wolf — Chang'e of Ministry — Letter to Dr. Franklin. During the summer of 1779, the dangers of the country had alarmingly increased. No progress was made in sub- duing America. The expense of the war exceeded all pre- cedent. The enemy's fleet sweeping triumphantly through the Channel, threatened Plymouth and other parts of the coast. And Ireland in a state of moral, seemed rapidly pro- ceeding to actual revolt, by riots in Dublin, by the extension of the system and the imposing attitude of the volunteers, by the strong measure of a money bill for six months only, q.nd by very general resolutions against " the unjust, illiberal, and impolitic selfishness of England." The speech from the throne, 25th November, recom- mending her liitlierto rejected claims to consideration, drew from the Member for Bristol many bitter taunts for the want of the means, not of the will by Ministry, to coerce her by fire and sword as they had attempted with America. These reproaches though stigmatized as inflammatory were per- haps not undeserved ; and the sense of the House was so fai 1779-80. xlilSH AFFAIRS. If3 with him, that having sat down once or twice from being unable to render himself heard in the more distant parts of it in consequence of a violent cold and hoarseness, he was pressed by loud and repeated calls from both sides to pro- ceed. Dire necessity alone had extracted this measure of conciliation from the Minister. A vote of censure upon him for neglect and delay, moved by Lord Ossory, Dec. 6th, gave birth to higldy-applauded speeches by Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke; the latter remarking, that that which had at first been requested as a favour, was delayed till angrily demanded as a right ; till threats extorted what had been denied to en- treaties ; till England had lost the moment of granting with dignity, and Ireland of receiving with gratitude. When however Lord North introduced his plan of relief such as it was, he gave it his approval, though without that warmth which the zealous spirits of Ireland expected and they themselves displayed on the occasion, but which he conceived its tardy and reluctant justice scarcely deserved. Hence arose a misrepresentation there, that he was alto- gether indiiferent to the relief now granted. His popularity therefore sunk at once, both in the laud of his birth and in that of his adoption : in Bristol, for conceding any com- mercial advantage whatever ; in Dublin, for withholding any point however indifferent or unimportant in itself; a lot to which all statesmen who act without favour or partiality to- wards contending interests, are too often exposed. To remove this impression in Ireland, he wrote "A Letter to Thomas Burgh, Esq." dated January 1, 1780, explanatory of his views and motives, which, though meant to be private, soon found its way into the periodical prints of the time, and in some degree set him right with the more intelligent part of his countrymen. The dl success of the war and the increased taxation re- quired to support it, occasioning at this moment loud out- cries for Parliamentary Eeform, and retrenchment of the public expenditure, Mr. Burke dexterouslj' Avrested attention from the former which he had always deemed unsafe and impracticable, to the latter which he thought in every way practicable and expedient. Of aU men in the House he was perhaps the best qualified for this arduous undertaking by a share of political courage which shrunk from no duty however invidious ; and by habita 18-1 LIFE OF BUEZB. 1780. of business which at all times laborious, were on this occa- sion exerted beyond all precedent. " For my own part," said he, " 1 have very little to recommend me for this, or for any task, but a kind of earnest and anxious perseverance of mind, which with all its good and all its evil effects ia moulded into my constitution." Cautious of experiment as he professed to be even to timidity, this feeling formed a pledge tliat no crude or showy innovations should be attempted merely because they were new ; and his idea of a very cheap government not being necessarily the very best, rendered it certain that nothing really useful should be taken away. He knew too much of human nature and of the business of the State, to be led astray by visionary schemes of hopeless purity and impossible perfection. The habits of the country he knew were any thing but niggardly towards public oflfices and public servants. While duty therefore required that nothing gross should be permitted to remain, a personal as well as a public liberality ensured that no injustice should be inflicted upon individuals ; that eco- nomy should not become penury, or reform utter extirpa- tion. His notice of motion, on the 15th December, opened a brief but lucid exposition of the outlines of his plan, to which Opposition gave praise for the matter and manner. No one else ventm-ed to say a word on a tender subject which touched the highest quarters in the State. A. slight incident on this occasion again showed his dexterity in de- bate. While enforcing the necessity of frugality, and re- commending to the Minister the old and valuable Roman apothegm magitum vectigal est parsimonia, he made a false quantity, rendering the second word vectigal. Lord ISTorth, in a low tone corrected the error, when the orator with his usual presence of mind, turned the mistake to advantage. " The Noble Lord," said he, "hints that I have erred in the quantity of a principal word in my quotation ; I rejoice at it ; because it gives me an opportunity of repeating the inestimable adage," — and with increased energy he thun- dered forth — " magnum vect'i-gal est pf^rsimonia." Great as was the idea entertained of his talents, expecta- tion was surpassed by the production of the plan itself in- troduced by the memo-able speech of the 11th of February, 1780, which every one conversant with political history has I 1780, ECONOMICAL EEFOEM, 185 read, and lie who has read will not readily forget No public measure of the century received such general enco- mium. Few speeches from the Opposition side of the House ever told with greater effect. Had he never made any other it would place him iu the first rank of orators and practical statesmen, for comprehensiveness of design, minute knowledge of detail, the mingled moderation and justice towards the public and to the persons affected, the wisdom of its general principles, and their application to local in- terests. As a composition it has been considered the most brilliant combination of powers that ever was devoted to such a topic. "When printed it passed through a great number of editions. The whole of the scheme was comprised in five Bills. These embraced the sale of forest lands ; the abolition of the inferior royal jurisdictions of Wales, Cornwall, Chester, and Lancaster ; of Treasurer, Comptroller, Cofferer, Master, and a variety of inferior officers in the Household ; of Treasurer of the Chamber ; of the Wardrobe, Jewel, and Eobes Offices ; of the Boards of Trade, Green Cloth, and of Works ; of the office of third Secretary of State ; of the Keepers of the Stag, Buck, and Fox Hounds ; much of the ci\al branches of the Ordnance and Mint ; of the patent ofiices of the Exchequer ; the regulation of the army, navy, and pension pay offices, and some others ; and above all a new arrangement of the Civil List, by which debt shoidd be avoided in future, and priority of payment ensured to the least powerful claimants, the Fii'st Lord of the Trea- sury being the last on the list. The bare idea of reforming so many ofiices would have overpowered any man of ordinary courage or exertion. But to reduce or to regulate so many sources of influence, to place the remedy side by side with the grievance, to encounter the odium of annihilating or diminishing the emoluments of the possessors enjoyed perhaps for years without notice or in- quiry, was considered the boldest attempt ever made by any member out of office, and supposed to affect too many in- terests even for the authority of those who were iu. To these were added the complication and difficulty presented in every stage of its progress : but he deemed it one of the greatest and most praiseworthy features of his life. *' It must remain," said ]\ir. Dunnmg in a burst of admi- 18G LIFE or BTTEKE. 1780, ration, " as a monument to be handed down to posterity of his uncommon zeal, unrivalled industry, astonishing abilities, and invincible perseverance. He had undertaken a task big with labour and difficulty ; a task that embraced a variety of the most important objects, extensive and com- plicated ; yet such were the eminent and unequalled abilities, so extraordinary the talents and ingenuity, and such the fortunate frame of the honom-able gentleman's mind, his vast capacity and happy conception, tbat in his hands, what must have proved a vast heap of ponderous matter, com- posed of heterogeneous ingredients, discordant in their nature and opposite in principle, was so skilfully arranged as to become quite simple as to each respective part, de- pendent on each other ; and the whole at the same time so judiciously combined, as to present nothing to almost any mind tolerably intelUgent, to divide, puzzle, or distract it." " Mr. Bui'ke's Eeform bill," says the historian Gibbon, " was framed with skill, introduced with eloquence, and supported by numbers. Never can I forget the dehght with which that diifusive and ingenious orator was heard by all sides of the House, and even by those (Gibbon himself, as a member of the Board of Trade, was one of them) whose existence he proscribed. The Lords of Trade blushed at their insignificancy. Mr. Eden's appeal to the two thousand three hundred volumes of our reports proved only a fertile theme for ridicide. I take this oj)portunity of certifying the correctness of Mr. Burke's printed speeches which I have heard and read." " Only one sentiment," remarks another contemporary who voted against the measure, " pervaded the House and the nation, on the unexampled combination of eloquence, labour, and perseverance -n-hich had been displayed by their enlightened author. They covered with astonishment and admiration even those who, from principle or from party, appeared most strenuous in opposing the progress of the bill itself through every stage." Similar testimonies might be adduced even from some of the Ministry, wlio were nevertheless ingenious enough to oppose in detail what they applauded in the gross. A con- siderable part of March, April, and May, were occupied in debating the different clauses. That +br abolishing the office of the third Seoretary of State was lost on the 8th of i 17^0. ECONOMICAL REFOEM. 187 the former montli by a majority of seven, after one of the hardest fought contests ever remembered. Five days after- ward by the irresistible effect of the wit of the mover as much as his eloquence, sentence of death was passed on the poor Board of Trade by a majority of eight ; the two housand three hundred folio volumes of its labours, rather unluckily urged by Mr. Eden in its defence, being ridiculed with such inimitable effect by Mr. Burke, as to be in the opinion of many, the chief cause of condemnation. Execu- tion of the sentence however was contrived by the Ministry to be delayed for the present ; and a week afterwards, the Bentiments of the House upon the bill altogether seemed unexpectedly changed by other clauses of importance being rejected by great majorities. This measure drew from him during the session eleven or twelve speeches, combining so much labour, ingenuity, and wit, that it became a question in which of these points he excelled. In the debate on the Board of Works (April 21st), "Mr. Burke," said a contemporary, " distinguished himself more than ever by the force of his arguments, the fertility of his invention, and the pleasantry with which he enlivened a matter apparently dry and insipid in itself." Another writer on the subject says, '' It was generally agreed both by members and strangers, that Mr. Burke had been seldom more agreeable in the House of Commons than on this evening. He evidently came down with his mind made up to the fate (rejectio n) of the remainingclauses of his bill ; and therefore treated them with all that ready wit, pleasantry, and good humoiu" which are the real features of his character." A proposal by Lord North to give the India Company previous to the dissolution of their charter the required three years notice, produced from the Member for Bristol a speech against it of great fervour and animation. He supported a bill for suspending the elective fi-anchise of re- venue officers ; and also a motion by Mr. Dunning for securing the independence of Parliament. He found time likewise (April 4tb) to wTite a letter on the affairs of Ire- land enforcing his former opinions, to John Merlott, Esq. of Bristol. Eight days afterwards (April 12th), he ad- dressed another to the chairman of the Buckinghamshire meeting for obtaining Parliamentary Eeform; a scheme 188 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1780. which he considered ineffectual to its intended purpose, and pregnant with danger to the Constitution. He could not make up his mind he said to so important an innovation. All his reading, observation, experience, and conversation with others possessed of wisdom and talent were against its being advantageous to good government. " Please Grod," he added, "I will walk with caution whenever 1 am not able clearly to see my way before me." On the 8th of May, he spoke still more decidedly against the question, on Alderman Sawbridge's annual motion for the same object. A periodical work of the time styled this " a most able, ingenious, and elaborate speech ;" and the outline of it foimd among his papers even more than verifies this description. About this time, a few petitions to repeal the indulgences granted to Romanists two years before, excited to action the Protestant associations under Lord George Grordon, a wild fanatic of no talents, whose language in the House was often reprehensible, though commonly disregarded. He had moved, without finding a seconder, that the petition presented by Mr. Burke the preceding session from the Eoman Catholic sufferers by the riots in Scotland, " be thrown over the table." To give further proof of his zeal in the same cause, he now called together, " for the honour of God," the rabble of London. The consequence of this proceeding were the riots ; when the powers of the members of government, seemingly sunk in hopeless apathy, waited to be roused by the spirit and good sense of the king, who by taking the re- sponsibility upon himself of ordering the military to act, restored the metropolis to the dominion of order and law. In the exigency of the moment wlien Mr. Fox wdth in- considerate party feelings refused to strengthen the hands of government, Mr. Burke to his honour, strongly recom- mended it ; advising him and Opposition generally, to forget all their differences in unanimity and defensive asso- ciations. As a powerful advocate of the persecuted sect, the fanatical feeling ran strongly against him among some of the leaders. His residence in Charles Street, St. James's Square, was more than once heard to be threatened ; he waa reviled as a Jesuit in disguise, nick-named Neddy St. Omers, and cari&atured as a monk stirring the fires of Smithtield, in addition to much more of similar vituperation. Trusting 1780. LORD GEORGE GORDON'S EI0T8. 189 however, to a conaiderable share of popularity, or belie ^ng that the bulk of the mob being bent on plunder and riot cared little for anything else, he did not hesitate to mix with a party of them, and experienced no great personal ill-wiU. His own notice of the adventure, written soon after to IVIr. Shaekleton, is as follows : — " My wife being safely lodged, I spent part of the next day in the street amidst this wild assembly, into whose hands I delivered myself, informing them who I was. Some of them were malignant and fanatical, but I think the far greater part of those whom I saw were rather dissolute and luiruly than very ill-disposed. I even found friends and well-wishers among the blue-cockades." Some of the news- papers of the day give an anecdote which exhibits his per- sonal fearlessness on the occasion, particularly as several friends had advised him to leave town for safety, which they deemed seriously at stake. " This day (June 6th) a detachment of foot-guards took possession of Westminster Hall, the doors of which they at last closed to prevent the mob entering there : several Mem- bers of both Houses, who walked down on foot were thus prevented from getting into the House for a considerable time, among whom was Mr. Burke, who was presently sur- rounded by some of the most decent of the petitioners, who expostulated with him on his conduct, in abetting Sir George Savile's motion for the Roman Catholic bill. Mr. Burke in his defence, said he certainly had seconded the motion for the bill, and thought himself justified in so doing; he said he understood he was a marked man, on whom the petitioners meant to wreak their vengeance ; and, therefore, he walked out singly amongst them, conscious of having done nothing that deserved their censure in the slightest degree, having always been an advocate for the people, and meaning to con- tinue so. Mr. Bui'ke at length got rid of his troublesome interrogators." He had received positive information the previous day that his house was to be destroyed after that of Sir Greorge Savile. Mrs. Burke, his papers, and a few valuables were therefore immediately removed to the house of Greneral Bur- goyne ; shortly afterward a party of soldiers arrived for his protection, sent by the authorities without ajjplication, when his fui'niture being removed, the guard was with something 190 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1780, of a chivalrous disregard of self dismissed, from an impression that it might be made more useful elsewhere. The nights were spent with other volunteer friends of rank, in guarding Lord Eockiiigham's and Sir George Savile's houses. After forcing his way into the House of Commons on the following day, he gave vent, as usual fearlessly to indignation and remonstrance. " I spoke my sentiments in such a way," he writes to Shackleton, " that I do not think I have ever on any occasion seemed to aifect the House more forcibly." Few things do more credit to his active and sensitive humanity than zealous though unostentatious endeavours for the extension of the royal mercy to the chief part of the lui- happy rioters who, having been convicted of various offences, now awaited the awful retribution of the law. With this view he drew up some reflections on the approaching execu- tions, and exerted his influence in pressing letters to the Lord Chancellor, Lord Mansfield the President of the Council, and the Secretary to the Treasury, to submit his opinions to his Majesty and Lord North, Public justice, he urged ought to be satisfied with the smallest possible number of victims. Numerous executions, far from increas- ing, diminished the solemnity of the saci'ifice ; anticipating in this respect the general feeling of the present day, that if not absolutely bad, such scenes frequently repeated are certainly not useful. The letters and reflections appear in his works. For the original instigators of the tumults among the higher classes he had no such consideration, uttering against them in Parliament several bitter anathemas. " They," he said, " and not the ignorant and misled multitude, ought to be hanged ;" and when some of the leading "Associators" were seen in the lobby of the House, he exclaimed loudly in their hearing — "I am astonished that those men can have the audacity still to nose Parliament;" and had previously remarked that freedom of debate in the Commons of England had arrived at a new era, w hen a bludgeoned mob in the street aimed to destroy that freedom, while soldiers with fixed bayonets were employed at the doors to protect it. On the 20th of June after calm had been restored, peti- tions were again presented against tolerating Popery, to which neither Ministers nor Opposition woiild give coun- tenance. Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke spoke for three hours I 1780 EIOCFTIOIf WALKEH. 191 each against reviving such an intolerant spirit. The latter, after expressing the warmest attachment to the Church of England, avowed that he abominated anything like in- tolerance, moving five resolutions to that effect and in reprobation of the late excesses, which were with little op- position carried. He also thwarted popular prejudice on another point. A bill had passed the Commons to prevent Soman Catholics from being permitted to give scholastic in- stniction to Protestants, when finding it likely to be pro- ductive of some injustice, he drew up a petition to the other House, which had so much effect with Lord Thurlow, that on the third reading he quitted the woolsack and by one of his forcible assaults upon the principle of the measure, drove it out of the House "nithout a division. One of the persons who solicited Mr. Burke's exertions on this occasion was Mr. or as he was commonly termed Elocution Walker, author of the Pronouncing Dictionary, and other works of merit, and who had given lessons in the art to young Burke. This gentleman had been educated a Presbyterian, but being in the habit of discussing religious subjects in places where such topics can be never properly dis- cussed, namely, in debatiug societies, a singular result is said to have followed. Two or three persons ^ ere persuaded by his arguments to become Presbyterians, while he himself was argued into the propriety of becoming a Roman Catholic ! The law in question aiming a deadly blow at his means of livelihood, he appealed forcibly to Mr. Burke one day in the vicinity of the House of Commons, who conceiving he was serving the interests of literature, introduced him to a no- bleman accidentally passing, with the following charac- teristic exordium : — " Here, my Lord Berkeley, is ]\Ir. Walker, whom not to know by name at least, woidd argue want of knowledge of the harmonies, cadences, and pro- prieties of our language. Against this gentleman and others, we are going, my Lord, upon a poor, ungrounded prejudice of the refuse of the mob of London, to commit an act of gross injustice ; and for what? For crimes moral or political? No, my Lord, but because we differ in the meaning affixed to a single word," pronouncing it empha- tically, " transubstantiafion." Having to present a petition to the House of Commous on the same subject some time before, in which was dis- 192 LIFE or BUEEE. 1780. covered incorrectness of language or expression at the mo- ment of coming forward, he set about correcting it though conscious of its uselessness, remarking, " If we are not fa- vourably received, at least let us be worthy of it." While engaged in this way at the door writing very fast, and as he was often accustomed to do, conversing at the same mo- ment with persons around him interested in the prayer of the petition, the Speaker, Sir Fletcher Norton, called for him somewhat impatiently to proceed. " It is hard, Mr. Speaker," said he, with an arch expression of countenance, but without raising his eyes from the paper or ceasing to write, " it is hard you cannot wait even a moment — ' No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,' " a quotation from Hamlet, in allusion to the speed with which the prince was to be put to death in England, and appropriately applied to the expected fate of the petition. His humanity exerted on another occasion, gave a fillip to the ingenious malice of the daily press. A man had been sentenced to the pillory at St. Margaret's Hill, South- wark, for attempts at an atrocious oifence, when the multi- tude stoned him so as to occasion immediate death. For noticing this in the House of Commons, with remarks on ita cruelty as being so much more severe a sentence than the law awarded, a newspaper chose to indulge in some silly but most slanderous reflections, for which a rule for a criminal information was obtained against the editor, though on apology, not pressed. Five years afterwards, on repeating in his place the same remarks on a nearly similar occur- rence in Bristol, the slander was reiterated, when finding it necessary to bring an action against the printer, the jury awarded him, there being no attempt at defence, £150 damages. It is remarkable that shortly after this his friend Lord Loughborough, himself a judge, had to appeal to a jury against the same unprincipled and abominable insinua- tions, which had no other foundation than the same party or personal hostility as in the case of Mr, Burke ; and he received the same sum from the jury. In this year also, a more important scheme of humanity occupied the active mind of the member for Bristol ; no less than the partial abolition, or material alleviation, of the slave- trade; and a variety of thoughts on the subject, with a sket-ch of a new negro code, were committed to paper. There were 1780. AFIIICAN SLATE TEADE. 193 many reasons, however, against bringing forward such a mea- sure then. Among these were the incessant contests which American affairs occasioned in Parliament ; the odium which such an innovation on the rights of trade and property would bring on Opposition from the West India interest ; the policy of confining their strength to the more pressing grievance of the war; the impossibility of the Opposition by itself succeeding in such a design under any circum- ' stances whatever ; the temper of the nation, which was not at all ripe for the discussion ; and perhaps the unpopularity he had already incurred at Bristol, and which such a proposal would increase to exasperation. Time has shewn that he judged rightly. Mr. Wilberforce who took it up six years afterwards, found it necessary to devote a whole life to the subject. Mr. Burke's plan, likewise, embraced minute regulation of the trade in all its stages, at a moment when very little hope coidd be entertained of its total abolition. Had it been adopted, all the grosser horrors of the traffic would have been obviated ; but it was gratifying to every lover of bene- volence to find that many of his suggestions for the treat- ment of slaves in the island were, at length, after a long interval, adopted. Many of the subsequent regulations laid before Parliament, will be found nearly a transcript from the fourth section or head of his Negro code, as may be seen in his works, vol. ix. p. 301 — another instance of what has been remarked more than once, that his ^^^sdom was almost always a long way in advance of that of the age in which he lived. To the exertions of Mr. Wilberforce he always gave the most zealous support, and his labours were often eulo- gized in verse and prose by the admirers of that gentleman. The dissolution of Parliament in autumn, carried him to Bristol, to ascertain whether the rejection he had apprehen- ded on account of disagreeing with his constituents on certain points of policy, was likely to take eftect. To a meeting held at the GruildhaU on the 6th of September, he delivered his celebrated speech, the best ever uttered on such an occasion, and perhaps never excelled by anything he spoke elsewhere.* Were it always in the power of elo- • In this opinion I am happy to find Sir Samuel Roniilly agree. " I am not sorprised that you so much admire Burke's speech (^on Americaa O 194 LIFE OF BUEKE. 17S0. quence to conciliate, or argument to persuade, there were in this enough of both to redeem not only the crime of differ- ing in opinion with his constituents, but more serious oflences, had such been committed. Declining all apology for opposing the wishes, though he was satisfied he said, not the interests of those he represented, he entered on hia defence. The charges against him were four ; — in not visiting the City more frequently— in supporting LordBeauchamp's Insolvent Debtor's Bills — the Irish Trade Acts — and the relief granted to the Roman Catholics. Each of these he defended with extraordinary ability ; rendering even the common and temporary affair of an election, a medium for promulgating great and permanent political truths — such as the hustings never before supplied us with, and never since. " Gentlemen," said he, in summing up, " I do not here stand before you accused of venality, or of neglect of duty. It is not said that in the long period of my service, I have, in a single instance, sacrificed the slightest of your interests to my ambition or to my fortune. It is not alleged that to gratify any anger, or revenge of my own, or of my party, I have had a share in wronging or oppressing any description of men, or any man in any description. No ! the charges against me are all of one kind — that I have pushed the principles of general justice and benevolence too far ; further than a cautious policy would warrant ; and further than the opinions of many would go along with me. — In every accident that may happen through life, in pain, in sorrow, in depression, and distress — I will call to mind this accusation, and be comforted." The main body of the Dissenters, of the Corporation, and much of the weight of property and respectability in the city were decidedly in his favour, and strong resolutions were passed to that effect. The million were of another opinion ; and against numbers on such an occasion it was useless to contend. " Were I fond of a contest," said he, " I have the means of a sharp one in my hands. But I have never been remarkable for a bold, active, and sanguine Taxation) ; but thoug'h it is somewliat cruel to tell you so, it is far inferior to some of his later compositions, particularly to a speech made in Bristol at the last election in justiticatioii of his own conduct, which is perhaps tlie finest piece of oratory in our language." — LiJ'e of Romilly, vol. i p. 213. 1780. EEJECTIO' AT BRISTOL. 195 ■ pursuit of advantages that are personal to myself." The ;, resolution to decline being immediately taken and as readily ; declared in another speech, brief but expressive, he thanked pi' the electors for the favours they had already conferred, and honestly confessed his regret that they were not to be con- tinued. Adding, that in sorrow not in anger, he took his leave, in person as he deemed most proper, rather than by letter as was most customary ; for as in the face of day he had ac- cepted their trust, so in the face of day he accepted their dismission, conscious that he had nothing to be ashamed of. The appeal was very powerful, and the scene almost affecting, increased by the feelings of many of the auditory on the sudden death of one of the candidates. " Showing us," said Burke at the moment no less beautifully than pathetically, " what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue !" Bow- ing to the sheriffs, to the other candidates present, and to the assembled multitude, he quitted the hustings ; and Bristol thus suffered itself to become a subject of reproach for ever. If popular elections were always the exercise of soimd dis- cretion, the rejection of so great a man would be strange. But being as they are too often the result of tumidtuous feeling and prejudice, the wonder ceases. Of all distinctions it has long been observed, that that w^hich is raised on popidar ad- miration is the most slippery and the most treacherous, con- tinually falling away from under the wisest and soundest statesman, without serious demerit on his part. Such a position may be termed the tight rope of politics, " a tremulous and dancing balance," as Burke phrases it, on which none but the most dexterous political posture-master can hope to maintain himself long. Experience has proved that none can depend upon his footing there a moment : for that line of conduct which the more enlightened know to be right, and he himself feels to be conscientious, is as often as not that for which he may be cried up by the multitude to-day, and pulled down to-morrow. So was it with this distinguished statesman. He had merely exerted towards Ireland the same liberality of prin- ciple lie had shewn to America, and precisely on the same ground. While the one constituted his greatest merit in the eyes of Bristol, the other from illiberal motives in the people of that place, became his most serious offence. The injury to his own interests on account of thus legislating iu favour of the general interests of the kingdom on the cue 196 LIFE OF KUEEE. 1780. hand, and of oppressed individuals (small debtors and Eo- man Catholics) on the other, was considerable. The repre- sentation of Bristol from its wealth, commerce, and popu- lation, was certainly an important object to Mr. Burke. Mr. Burke was in every respect a high honour to Bristol. A great man and a great city are made for each other, and none but the most obvious and weighty reasons should be per- mitted to separate them. It was about this time, perhaps, that hurt by the reception he had so undeservedly experienced, he is said to have given vent to momentary irritation against the mercantile cha- racter: — " Do not talk to me of a merchant ; — a merchant is the same in every part of the world — his gold his god, his invoice his country, his ledger his bible, his desk his altar, the Exchange his Church, and he has faith in none but his banker." This conversational sally if ever made, was by no means his serious opinion. Commerce had been from the first as we have seen, his favourite study as a statesman ; and in one of his early tracts there is a remarkable passage which the experience of our own day has amply verified. " Agriculture will not attain any perfection until com- mercial principles be applied to it ; or in other words, until country gentlemen are convinced that the expenditure of a small portion of capital upon land, is the true secret of securing a larger capital by ensuring increased returns." In adverting to the arguments of some of his own party three years aftex'wards on the India Bill, who urged that merchants were from their habits, incapable of governing a country such as India, he dissented from such an opinion ; liberally adding — " I have known merchants with sentiments and the abilities of great statesmen ; and I have seen persons in the rank of statesmen, with the conceptions and characters of pedlars." His correspondence during the year with various Bristol friends in anticipation of the actual residt, was active. To Mr. Harford, who in conjunction with Mr. Champion had first proposed him, he had in the Spring ofi'ered at once to resign the seat if desired, or to any one else of more interest in the town and of as sound opinions. All his letters on this, to him, almost vital point, exhibit the thorough spirit of dis- regard of self. Charles Fox writing to him after it was over and while busily engaged in his own contest for Westminster says, " Indeed, my dear Burke, it requires aU your candour 1780. EETTJBNED FOE MALTON. 197 and reverse of selfishness (for I know no word to express it) to be in patience with that rascally city." Even opponents were struck by his moderation and utter absence of resent- ment or irritation both before and after the event ; and to- ward the end of October the Corporation voted its thanks for his distinguished services. On more public business his chief communications were with Sir. AV. W. Wynne, Lord Loughborough, Lord North, Viscount Courtenay ; and with Lords Hillsborough and Stormont on Indian affairs, which began some time before to take stronghold upon his mind from what he deemed oppres- sion towards the i^ative authorities. The question of Par- liamentary reform likewise hampered him while without a seat, so as to make him doubt whether it was quite prudent to accept one. He could not coincide with either that of the Duke of Richmond or of Sir Greorge Savile, both men of high principles, talents, and character and of his ovm. party, but on this point he thought mistaken, " Shall I put myself into the graceful posture," he asks, " of opposing both ?" Malton, for which he was formerly chosen, again received, and for the remainder of his political life retained him as her representative. " The humble borough," remarks a judicious historian (Adolphus), " gained by such a member an honour which the greatest commercial city might reason- ably envy." It is thus that such places not wholly imder the influence of a popular spirit, make up in practical utility what they want in theoretical perfection ; and one portion of the king- dom even by presumed faults, is enabled to repair the preju- dice or injustice of another. Without this resource he might not at least for a time, have re-entered Parlia- ment. He might have been disgusted reasonably enough, with the popular cause. A sense of wounded pride might have carried him into retirement, to become merely a spec- tator of scenes in which nature and practice had so eminently fitted him to act. His services which in number and in value are perhaps unequalled in the roll of English statesmen, would have been lost to his country. Much also would liave been lost, and that is no trivial loss, in national lame. Great men are a species of valuable public property, always the pride, often the chief stay and support of their country, the stars which enlighten and beautifv her intellectual fir- I 198 LIFE Oi; BUEKE. 1780. mament, and by the numbers and radiance of wbom her glory is raised and extended in the esteem of other nations. How many ilkistrious names might have been lost to the roll of English history, had it not been for the anomaly of close boroughs ! When he arrived at Bristol previous to the election, one of his correspondents, Mr.' Noble, vrhom he particularly esteemed, told an anecdote of the habitual disdain with which Mr. Burke treated what he called "loose libels," and that strain of vulgar abuse so long directed against him even when its contradiction promised to be useful to his interests. The rumours of his being a Roman Catholic, of being edu- cated at St. Omer's, and others of the same stamp, had it seems reached Bristol, and being believed by many of the electors in the humbler sphere of life, Mr. Noble* begged his sanction to write to Mr. Shackleton to receive from him, as his preceptor, a formal contradiction of them. The reply to this was a negative. "To people who can believe such stories," said he, " it will be in vain to offer explanations." His friend repeated the recommendation more pressingly. " If I cannot live down these contemptible calumnies, my dear friend, I shall never deign to contradict them in any other manner," was again the answer. Some few years after, on a question which arose on the im- peachment of Mr. Hastings, a passage to the same effect is contained in a letter written by him to a Member of the House of Commons : — " It would be a feeble sensibility on my part, which at this time of day would make me impatient of those libels, which by despising through so mang years, I have at length obtained the honour of being joined in com- • The testimony of this gentleman, now no more, is too flattering- to the ■writer of this work as far as regards his sources of information, and too expressive of his own veneration for the memory of his illustrious friend, to be suppressed here. It was written after perusing- the first edition. " I have read your ' Life of Burke' with very great satisfaction and thorough conviction of its correctness: for the trifling- cii-cumstauces therein related,which occurred at my house so many years since, are accu- rate even to the very words ; and the relation of them in yoi r Memoir flatter-, me much, from the consideration, that in after ages my children's children will feel proud th-dt their forefather was honoured with the friend- ship of that great and good man. — Believe me dear sir, your most humble servant, "John Noblk." 1780. AIDS THE YIET\'S OF A CLERGTMAIT. 199 mission with this Committee, and become an humble in- strument in the hands of public justice." " Loose libels," he again remarked on a subsequent occasion, " ought to be passed by in silence. By me they have been so always. I knew that as long as I remained in public, I should live down the calumnies of malice, and the judgments of ig- norance. If I happened to be now and then in the wrong, as who is not ? like all other men I must bear the consequence of my faults and my mistakes." Another anecdote of him while at Bristol is related by the same gentleman, regarding what his friend Pox probably thought one of his deficiencies. Passing an evening at Mr. Noble's house, his hostess in jest aked him to take a hand at cards, when he pleaded ignorance. " Come then, Mr. Burke," said she, playfully, " and I will teach you," and he accept- ing the challenge in the same good humour, with a witty remark on the power of female temptation, they sat down to the children's game of beggar my neighbour. This turning out in his favour, he was so amused with the idea of con- quering his instructress, as to rally her, with much effect, during the remainder of the evening. An instance of his earnest desire to serve unfriended merit, gave rise to an unusual scene, in which the characteristic afiability of the Prince of Wales was displayed in a marked manner. During Mr. Burke's stay at Mr. Noble's he became so much pleased by the conversation and manners of a friend of the latter then resident in the house, a clergpnau of high character but possessed of only a small curacy, as to express an inclination, should it ever b(; in his power, to forward his interests. Some years afterward, the living which he served, being in the gift of his Eoyal Highness and becoming vacant, the clergyman applied to Mr. Noble to remind Mr. Burke of his promise. The latter replied, that being very little known to the illustrious personage in question, he could not expect much attention to be paid to his application; "but any rate," said he to Mr. Noble, " let your friend write himself, and I will present the letter." Mr. Burke accordingly had an audience at Carlton House, was received in a gracious manner, and having presented his petition, it was acceded to in tlie hand- somest manner. In the fulness of his heart, the orator from the business of returning thanks, was betrayed into an 20'.) LIFE OF BTTRKE. 1780. animated discourse on the claims upon, situation and duties ofprinces, tillatlengthrecollectinghimself he abruptly ceased, with an apology for the liberty he had quite unintentionally taken. " No apology is necessary, my dear Mr. Burke," said his Royal Highness, graciously laying his hand upon his shoulder in the most condescending manner; "from your lea- sons we must all derive wisdom; and it is to be regretted that so few imitate your candour." "I cannot, however," said Mr. Burke, on repeating the circumstance to his friends, " for- give myself for the indecorum of which I think I was guilty ; but the suavity of the gentleman made me forget my situa- tion ; — in addressing my Prince, I thought I was speaking to my son." In the discussions at the India House he sometimes took part, and in those of November this year respecting the appointment of a new governor to Madras, bore testimony to the talents and character of his old acquaintance Lord Macartney, who proved ultimately the successful candidate. On the 24th of this month, his son Richard, who had entered himself of the Middle Temple, in November 1775, was called to the bar, and took chambers intending to practise, which he continued for some years. Here more than one acquaint- ance of the writer of these pages had occasion to call upon him some time afterwards. He was a young man of talents much above mediocrity, the pride and delight of his father, whom he occasionally assisted in researches connected with parliamentary duty, and is said to have written " The Yorkshire Question;" a reply to Major Cartwright's plan of reform ; besides several letters and tracts in reference to the polities of the time. In the session of 1780-81, Mr. Burke took a leading part on the message announcing the rupture with Holland ; Mr. Fox's motion respecting Sir Hugh Palliser's appointment to Greenwich Hospital ; a proposal by Lord North to make the India Company pay a large sum for the renewal of their privileges ; on the Budget ; on the causes of the War in the Carnatic ; on a Commission for examining the Public Ac- counts ; on the Ordnance Estimates ; on Mr. Hartley's bill to restore peace with America ; a motion by Mr. Fox for an inquiry into the conduct of the war ; another by Mr. Minchin on the supposed neglect of 8000 British seamen in Spanish prisons. These were followed by one from himself, on the 1781. PAELIAMENTAEY BUSINESS. 201 treatment of tlie people of St. Eustatius by Sir George Eodney and G-eneral Yaughan, supported by all the oppo- sition. On the latter subjects, the humanity of his dispo- sition was complimented as being only equalled by the brilliancy of his genius. In February, the Economical Reform bill, or at least that branch relating to the civil list, was again introduced in accordance with the solicitations of a variety of political associations, whose thanks and compliments formed some counterpoise to the ill-humour he had experienced at Bristol. Four able speeches were expended upon it in vain. Much of his illustration and of his reasoning on the point were new. His reply is said to liave surpassed everything that could be conceived on a subject seemingly so exhausted ; the encomiums on his labour, eloquence, and wit, even from the ministerial side, were unprecedented ; and a common remark in the House was, " that he was the only man in the country whose powers were equal to the forming and accomplishing so systematic and able apian." Lord North, who was not the last to applaud, delayed for some days to give it a negative, though adjured by the mover to do so at once if he meant it, without further anxiety to him or to the House, and be at least for one day in his life, " a decisive Minister." In support of the measure Mr. Pitt made his first speech in Parliament. It was about this period that the kinder feelings of Mr. Burke were appealed to by a young and friendless literary- adventurer, afterwards the Eev. George Crabbe, who buoyed up \vith the praise his verses had received in the country, and the hope of bettering his fortunes by them in London, had adventured on the journey thither with scarcely a friend or even acquaintance who could be useful to him, and with no more than three pounds in liis pocket. This trifle being soon expended, the deepest distress awaited him. Of all hopes from literature he was speedily disabused. There was no imposing name to recommend his little volume, and an attempt to bring it out himself only involved him more deeply in difficulties. The printer it appeared had deceived him, and the press was at a stand from the want of that potent stimulus to action which puts so much of the world in motion. Hearing however or knowing something of an opulent Peer, then in London, who had a summer residence in bis native county, he proposed to dedicate to bim bis 202 LIFE OF BTTEKE. 1781. little volume, and the offer was accepted ; but on requesting a v^ery small sum of money to enable him to usher it into the world, received no answer to his application. His situation became now most painful. He was not merely in want, but in debt ; he had applied to his friends in the country, but they could render him no assistance. His poverty had become obvious he said, to the persons with whom he resided, and no further indulgence could be expected from them. He had given a bill for part of the debt, which if not paid within the following week he was threatened with a prison ; he had not a friend in the world to whom he could apply; despair he added, awaited him whichever way he turned.* In this extremity of destitution. Providence directed him to venture on an application to Mr. Burke. He had not the slightest knowledge of that gentleman other than common fame bestowed ; no introduction but his own letter stating these circumstances — no recommendation but his distress. But in the words he used in the letter, ^'hearing that he was a good man, and presuming to think him a great one,'^ he applied in this emergency, and as it proved, with a degree of success far beyond any possible expectation he could form. Mr. Burke, with scanty means himself and unbribed by a dedication, did that which the opulent Peer declined to do with it. But this was not all ; for he gave the young poet his friendship, criticism, and advice, sent some part of his family round to their friends to collect subscriptions for the work, introduced him to some of the first men in the coimtry, and very speedily by recommendations and influence became the means of pushing him on to fortune. As a critic also, Mr. Burke was frequently called upon by authors for his opinion and correction, whenever they could procure an introduction to acquaintance ; many indeed with- out this customary preliminary. Nearly about the same time another candidate for poetic fame, the Bev. Mr. Logan, a Scotch clergyman, sent him a pleasing volume of poems, which was answered by a complimentary note and an invita- tion to breakfast in Charles- street. An anecdote of his humanity, occurring not long afterward, was related by an • This letter came under my eye in the second edition of this work, ■with many more papers and letters, through mj' late friend Mr. Haviland Burke, but Crabbe being' then alive, liis name was suppressed. 1781. HIS HUMANITY. 203 Irish gentleman of rank who professed to know the circum- stances. He adduced it by way of contrast to the eccentric kindness of a well-known Irish philanthropist of our own day to one of the same class of unhappy persons. Walking home late one evening from the House of Com- mous, Mr. Burke was accosted by one of those unfortunate women who linger out a miserable existence in the streets, with solicitations of a description which were not likely to have effect. Perceiving this, she changed her style of sup- plication and begged pecuniary assistance in a very pathetic and apparently sincere tone. In reply to his inquiries, she stated she had been lady's maid in a respectable family, but being seduced by her master's son, had at length been driven through gradations of misery to her present forlorn state ; she confessed to be wretched beyond descrip- tion, looking forward to death as her only relief. The conclusion of the tale brought Mr. Burke to his own door in Gerard-street. Turning round with much solemnity of manner he addressed her, " Young woman, you have told a pathetic story ; whether true or not is best known to yourself; but tell me, have you a serious and settled vrish to quit your present way of life should you have the oppor- timity of so doing ?" " Indeed, Sir, I would do any thing to quit it." — " Then come in," was the reply ; " Here, Mrs. Webster," said he to the housekeeper who lived in the family for above thirty years, " here is a new recruit for the kitchen ; take care of her for the night, and let her have everything suitable to her condition till we can inform Mrs. Burke of the matter." She remained a short time under the eye of the family, was then pro\dded with a place, and turned out afterwards a well-behaved woman. His playfulness of manner was no less conspicuous than considerate humanity, as the following incident —from grave to gay — which occurred about this time will testify : — Two strolling players and their wives who paid frequent visits to the neighbourhood of Penn and Beaconsfield, chiefly on account of the liberal patronage of Mr. Burke, had acquired some celebrity from performing, by means of rapid changes in dress and considerable powers of mimickry, all the characters in the pieces which they represented. On one of these occasions a fox-hunter was to be exhibited, to whom a pair of leathern small-clothes was deemed an indis- 204 LIFE OF BUllKE. 1781. pensable article of dress, but unfortunately there was no such article in their wardrobe. In this dilemma, Mr. BurkC; who was then at G-eneral Haviland's at Penn, and whose invention and assistance commonly contrived to overcome their diificulties, was applied to. For a moment he was at fault, but soon recollected that the identical garment formed part of his host's military costume. How to procure it indeed was the difficulty ; for to ask it they knew would have appeared in the eyes of the owner a species of profanation. The old general was however held fast in bed by the gout, the wardrobe stood close to the bed, and in this seemingly secure station was deposited the leathern indispensables. " Come, Dick," said Edmund to his brother Richard, who equally enjoyed a jest of this kind, " we must out-general the general ; you must be the decoy, audi shall be the thief; attack the old soldier on his favorite military topic, lead him to the heights of Abraham where his prowess was displayed with Wolfe, fight the battle and slay the slain once more ; and in the mean time if my fingers be nimble and my luck good, I shall be enabled to march ofi" with the breeches." This jocular scheme was successfully accomplished, and subsequently aftbrded a frequent topic for merriment to the visitors at Penn. On another occasion a strolling party at Beaconsfield had called at Butler' s-court, to know what play their patron would be pleased to order. One was mentioned, when Mr. Burke inquiring of the manager whether from the strength of his company reasonable justice covld be done to the characters, some difficulty was started about one of them, an official personage, called in the play the Recorder. Just at that moment Richard Burke, then Recorder of Bristol, opened the door of the room, but observing a stranger in seeming conference with his brother, made the attempt to withdraw, when Edmund instantly and happily observed — " Here," said he to the Thespian hero, " is a gentleman who will suit you exactly: — Come hither Dick, we want you ; or in other words Mr. Manager, to speak with due theatrical correctness — ' Enter Mr. Recorder.' " To these amusements he frequently treated all his servants for the benefit of the players, when their success in findmg auditors had been inditierent ; and by way of enhancing the treat in their estimation, often sent them in his owa 1781. HOSPITALITY TO GEKTOO STRANGEE8. 205 carriage. On one of these occasions, the house being literally emptied of all the establishment two noblemen unexpectedly arrived from London, for whom Mrs. Burke had not only to make tea, but to become cook and foot- man by boiling the water herself, and by carrying the tea equipage to the drawing-room, — offices in which her noble guests discovering the dilemma good-humoiiredly volunteered to assist ; until at length one of the under gardeners appear- ing, relieved the hostess from her embarrassment. in June an instance of disinterested kindness should be told to his honour. Two Gentoos of high caste, sent to England from Ragonauk Eow in a diplomatic capacity without previous precautions for their proper reception, were found by him in London in circumstances of great personal discomfort from their peculiar religious obligations. He took them down to Beaconsfield, provided a temporary dwelling in his grounds as they wished, where their customs could best be carried out, carried them to London frequently to see the chief objects of curiosity, the House of Commons, and the King's Levee, and saw them safely on board on their return home in the autumn. His hospitable attentions were duly reported by Hummond Eow and Mamear Parsi to their chief, who forwarded a letter of thanks for this high-minded and considerate conduct shewn to his agents. A motion by Mr. Fox in June, of this year, to repeal the Marriage Act, excited particular notice, on account of briaging forward Mr. Burke as its chief opponent, the two fiiends supporting their respective views with extraordinary ability. Those of the former were considered too gener^ and philosophical for a practical statesman who knew so much of the world. While the latter seemed to keep his eye more on facts, on the truth of his general principles, and their application to the condition of society in thia country. It was rejected as anticipated, and without a divi- sion. Mr. Fox it is said took up the matter from a family feeling of resentment — the aversion shown by the Duke of Eichmond's family to his mother's marriage with his father. It is amusing sometimes to look back and trace the con- tradictory opinions entertained of statesmen, — the most vilified of all men — at different periods of their career militant, and the little credit given them for honest opinions and conducts, when unwilling to go all lengths with the 206 LIFE OF BURKE. 1781. zealots of all parties. At this time the Tories considered Mr. Burke one of their most formidable adversaries, while some of tlie more violent Whigs thought him little better than, a Tory, verifying the line of Pope — '' While Toi'ies call me Whig;, and Whig-s a Tory." The formerly occasionally hinted that he treated rank, wealth, and connexion, with too little ceremony. The other that he was too aristocratical in his notions for a bold and decided Whig. " I admired, as every body did, the talents, but not the principles of Mr. Burke," says Bishop Watson, writing of this particular period ; and his reasons for questioning the latter are rather remarkable as coming from a bishop — " His opposition to the clerical petition first excited my suspicion of his being a high Churchman in reli- gion ; and a Tory, perhaps an aristocratic Tory, in the state." So thought likewise one of the party who although of one of the highest families was rarely just to his views (Lord John Townshend) ; " Burke was certainly no moderate man ; and when his party did not interfere, generally leaned towards the most arbitrary side as had appeared in the late de- bates on the Church, in which he had declared for the Clergy." This opinion as to an arbitrary feeling could not possibly be true — for his fame and position arose from having opposed the arbitrary spirit shewn towards America. Neither peer nor bishop understood him whom they criticised ; whose marked feature through life when fairly examined was to preserve to every man those rights which law or custom had given him. Alluding to these accusations in the speech on the Marriage Act just mentioned, he gives the substance of those doctrines which having more fully illustrated ten years afterwards, he was then charged with having broached for the first time ; — doctrines which teach no more than the strict preservation of all the rights of all the orders, high and low, in the state ; and which, whether known to us as Wliiggism or Toryism, contain the main principles of sound patriotism. To a new and brilliant recruit to the banners of Opposition, with whom as member of the Literary Club an acquaintance had been for some time formed, he is said to have given some friendly though disregarded advice on his first efforts in Parliament, which were made in the course of this session. This was the witty and ingenious EichardBrinsley Sheridan, 1781. EICHAED BEINSLET SHEEIDAN. 20} who, possessed of talents the most useful and even splendid only wanted industry and moral conduct to become equal to some of the great names of the age. Even as it was, indolent and dissipated, neglecting study and averse to business, his uncommon natural powers always placed him in the first rank. A good poet, he would not cultivate poetry ; the first comic dramatist of the age and one of the best in our language, he deserted the drama ; a shrewd politician, he wanted that knowledge and solidity of thought and principle, which after all, form the surest passports of public men to public favour; a powerful orator, he wanted the industry which could alone render his powers effective and convincing in the assembly which he had to address, He was ready, shrewd, and remarkably cool in debate ; but like some advocates at the bar whose example few prudent men would desire to imitate, he seemed often to pick up his case from the state- ments of the opposite side. Power, fortune, and distinction, aU the inducements which usually work on the minds of men, threw out their lures in vain to detach him from irregularity and dissipation, to which alone he was a constant votary. With aU these deductions, his exertions in Parliament were frequent and vigorous ; often very powerful. His wit and ingenuity never failed to amuse and interest if they did not persuade. With greater preparation for parliamentary dis- cussion, few coidd have produced a stronger impression. His speech on the Begum charge of more than five hours' continu- ance and considered one of the finest orations ever delivered in Parliament, drew from Mr. Burke, Mr. Fox, and JNIr. Pitt, compliments of a high and unusual order ; and from the House generally, and the galleries — members, peers, strangers of all sorts by common consent— vehement shouts of applause and the unusual tribute of clapping of hands. With such powers, who but must regret their inadequate exercise and unhonoured close ? For it is melancholy to remember that this admired man, the friend of the great, the pride of wits, the admiration of senates, the delight of theatres, the perse- vering champion of a great political party for so many years, should at length be permitted to terminate his career in humiliating distress ; — another addition to the Hst too familiar to us, of great talents destitute of the safeguards of correct principle and ordinary prudence. Inferior to Mr. Burke to whom at one time he professed 208 LIFE OF BTJEKE. 1781 to look up as a guide, m some natural gifts, in moral strength of cliaracter, in extent of knowledge, in industry, in mental activity, and in what may be termed tlie very highest order of political genius, there were in their history several points of resemblance. Natives of the same country, they sprang from that rank in life which is compelled to work its own way to wealth or eminence. From the study of the law in England, both were weaned by the attractions of general literature ; and from that also, by the more animating con- tention of political life. It was their fate to struggle the greater part of their career in the up-hill path of Opposition for tlie momentary enjoyment of power, no sooner obtained than as suddenly snatched from their grasp. Yet ill success did not shake their constancy ; and disinterestedness was in an eminent degree a merit of both. Por amid unparalleled shiftings of principle and of party, by men who had not the apology of stinted or embarrassed fortunes to plead, they con- tinued faithful to their leaders ; a fidelity not less honourable than remarkable, for it was imitated by few. In addition to these coincidences the similarity may be carried a point further. Though always foremost in the support of political associates, they rose superior to party feelings when the pub- lic safety seemed endangered — Mr. Burke on occasion of the riots in 1780 ; Mr. Sheridan during the mutiny at the Nore. The Prench Revolution misled the latter, as it did other able and ingenious though not profound or reflecting men ; and on this account, in the language of the former, they became " separated in politics for ever." But he had the weakness long before to be excessively jealous of Burke's fame and weight in the party. A resolution of Congress to recall General Burgoyne from his parole in England induced Mr. Burke at the solicitation of the latter, to address a letter to Dr. Franklin, American Ambassador at Paris in August 1781, requesting his in- fluence to have the order rescinded. The philosopher was more than usually polite in reply. " Mr. Burke always stood high in my esteem ; and his affectionate concern for his fiiend renders him still more amiable ;" expressing for him in another sentence a degree of regard which perhaps no other English statesman of any party enjoyed, " great and invariable respect and affection." In support of the amendment to the address, moved bj 1781. SIIEAKIKG THE WOLF. 209 Mr. Fox JS'ovember 27th 1781, Mr. Burke uttered a bitter philippic against the principle as well as the conduct of the war. The figure of shearing the wolf, in allusion to the i-iyht of taxing America wliich the minister still insisted upon, made a strong impression on the House. After descanting on our repeated losses and defeats he went on to expose the folly of claiming rights which could not be enforced — " But he must say a few words on the subject of these rights, which had cost us so much, and which were likely to cost us our all. trood Grod ! Mr. Speaker, are we yet to be told of the rights for which we went to war ? Oh, excellent rights ! Oh, valuable rights ! Valuable you should be, for we have paid dear at parting with you. Oh, valuable rights! that have cost Britain thirteen provinces, four islands, a hundred thousand men, and more than seventy millions of money ! Oh wonderful rights ! that have lost to Great Britain her empire on the ocean, her boasted, grand, and substantial superiority whicli made the world bend before her ! * * * * What were these rights ? Can any man describe them ? Can any man give them a body and soul, a tangible sub- stance, answerable to all these mighty costs ? We did all this because we had a right to do it ; that was exactly the fact — ' And all this we dared to do because we dared.' We had a right to tax America says the noble lord, and as we had a right we must do it. We must risk every thing, forfeit every thing, think of no consequences, take no con- sideration into view but our right ; consult no ability, nor measure our right with our power, but must have our right. Oh miserable and infatuated ministers ! miserable and undone country ! not to kiaow^ that right signiiies nothing without might ; that the claim without the power of en- forcing it was nugatory and idle in tlie copyhold of rival states or of immense bodies of people. Oh, says a silly man full of his prerogative of dominion over a few beasts of the field, there is excellent wool on the back of a wolf and therefore he must be sheared. What! shear a wolf? Yes. But will he comply ? Have you considered the trouble ? How will you get this wool ? Oh, I have considered nothing, and I will consider nothing but my right ; a wolf is an animal that has wool ; all animals that have wool are to be shorn, and therefore I will shear the wolf. This was just P 210 LIFE OF BURKE. 1781-82. the kind of reasoning urged by the minister, and this the counsel he had given." The omission in Lord Cornwallis's capitulation of any article to secure the American loyalists serving in the British army from the vengeance of their countrymen, formed another topic of his indignant reproach. Next day he re- turned to the charge vs^ith undiminished spirit ; followed shortly by two renewals of the motion respecting St. Eusta- tius ; a general feeling existing that the people of that island had been unjustifiably treated, which the heavy damages after- wards awarded by juries against the commanders, naval and military, served to confirm. Shortly afterward he presented a petition to the House privately conveyed to him, written on the blank leaf of an octavo volume with black lead pencil, pen and ink being denied, from Mr. Laurens, American Envoy to Holland, w'ho being captured on his passage had been committed to the Tower a year before. The seeming rigour of the case excited all his sensibility, and the cause of the prisoner was taken up with such warmth, that he was liberated on bail shortly afterward, and soon exchanged for General Burgoyne. On this occasion (Dec. 3rd), an unusual degree of courtesy was shown by the House. Not being in his place when the private business had concluded, ana Mr. Fox saying he was sure his honourable friend had not departed from his intention, it was agrued to await his arriva. rather than proceed to other business. Several of the politicians of Ireland being in the habit of occasionally consulting him on the public measures adopted there. Lord Kenmare at this moment solicited his opinion on a bill then in progress for the alleged relief of theKoman Catholics, particularly in matters of education. To this he replied in a letter dated 21st of February 1782, published soon after without his consent in the Irish metropolis. This piece occupying thirty octavo pages which has all his ac- customed force and perspicuity, was written amid a multi- plicity of business, public and private, allowing him so little leisure that it was said to be dictated sometimes while eating a family dinner, sometimes while dressing, or even when engaged in familiar conversation. In public he was occupied after the recess, in supporting Bome motions of Mr. Fox against Lord Sandwich and the Admiralty Board ; on the employment of General Arnold as 1782. CHANGE OF MINISTET. 211 •' a rebel to rebels ;" on the Ordnance estimates ; in an able reply to the new American Secretary (Mr. Welbore Ellis) ; on General Conway's motion, February 22nd, for terminating the war with the colonies which reduced the ministerial majority to one ; and on Lord John Cavendish's motion of censure on Ministers March 8th. In animadverting on the difficulty of proposing new taxes (March 6th) he observed with his accustomed felicity of satire, that on looking over the blessed fruits of Lord North's administration, he found the country loaded with ten new taxes — beer, wine, soap, leather, horses, coaches, post-chaises, post-horses, stamps, and servants ; recollecting that he had omitted sugar in this enu- meration, he remarked, that since St. Christopher's was lost, and Barbadoes and Jamaica must follow, the omission was of small importance, as we should soon have no sugar to tax. " What fresh burdens can the Noble Lord add to this taxed and taxing nation ? We are taxed in riding and in walking, in staying at home and in going abroad, in being masters or in being servants, in drinking wine or in drinking beer ; in short in every way possible." " But viewing the account," he continued, " in a mercantile form, he must confess that for a hundred millions of money, we had purchased a fuU equivalent of disaster. If we were debtor by less in that sum of money, we were also creditor by less in a hundred thousand men, thirteen continental provinces, besides St. Vincent's, Grenada, Dominica, Tobago, St. Christopher's, Se- negal, Pensacola, and Minorca, worth at a moderate compu- tation, four millions and a half annually." When at length this long and arduous legislative warfare ■jberminated (19th March, 1782), by the resignation of the Ministry amid triumphant shouts of the Opposition, he offered an example of moderation by checking tlie too 'clamorous joy of his friends. He reminded them how many difficulties they had to encounter ; how necessary it was to guard against their own favoiu'ite desires, opinions, vanity, love of power, or emolument ; how much the public expected from their ability , and how much they stood pledged to achieve ; in which temperate tone he was seconded by General Conway, another moderate man. EecoUecting the dictation which Mr. Fox had now assumed in the deliberations of the party, it is difficult to bAieve that this homily on humility was not chiefly meant for him, from a misgiving in the mind of his I 212 LIFE OF BUEKE, 1782. coadjutor, verified by the result, that his rashness or impa- tience of superior lead or influence would ultimately ruin the party. A letter from Dr. Franklin, on the subject of the exchange of Mr. Laurens for Greneral Burgoyne, drew from Mr. Burke the following characteristic letter, (February 28th), the morning of the first decisive expression of opinion by the House of Commons against the continuance of the American war : — " Your most obliging letter demanded an early answer. It has not received the acknowledgment which was so justly due to it. But Providence has well supplied my deficiencies ; and the delay of the answer has made it much more satisfactory than at the time of the receipt of your letter I dared to promise myself it could be. I congratu- late you as the friend of America, I trust as not the enemy to England, I am sure as the friend of mankind, on the resolution of the House of Commons, carried by a majority of 19, at two o'clock in the morning, in a very full House. It was the declaration of 234 ; I think it was the opinion of the whole. I trust it will lead to a speedy peace between the two branches of the English nation, perhaps to a general peace ; and that our happiness may be an introduction to that of the world at large. I most sincerely congra^ tulate you on the event. I wish I could say that I have accomplished my commission. Difiiculties remain. But, as Mr. Laurens is released from his confinement, and has recovered his health tolerably, he may wait I hope, without a great deal of inconvenience for the final adjustment of this troublesome business. He is an exceedingly agreeable and honourable man. 1 am much obliged to you for the honour of his acquaintance. He speaks of you as I do ; and is perfectly sensible of your warm and friendly interposition in his favour," It may be remarked, as another proof of kindness of disposition, that he had not as he said, until recently, personal acquaintance with General Burgoyne. On the second debate (December 17th) the Greneral said — " Gratitude did not come vip to the true magnitude of the feelings he experienced towards him (Mr. Burke), and he reverenced him the more because he knew the real source of his attachment to proceed principally from a generous concern for the unfortunate, and a disinterested feeling for the oppressed and persecuted. 1782. CHAITGB OF MIWISTEY. 213 He considered the friendship of the honourable gentleman as the greatest blessitig, as well as the greatest honour, that had ever happened to him in life.^' About the same time, General Conway on another subject, gave utterance to a nearly similar expression of sentiment by saying, " that he had an esteem for the honourable gentleman (Mr. Burke) perhaps superior to any he felt for any other man whatever." These testimonies to his sterling qualities of character are strong, yet fall short of others found in his correspondence from almost every quarter. His gratuitous labours in effecting the exchange of Laurens and Burgoyne, cost him nearly a dozen long letters, a motion in Parliament, and considerable exertion otherwise ; yet neither were his personal friends, and one as we know was whoUy unknown. From Crabbe, struggling on to the clerical profession by means of his influ- ence and aid, two grateful letters were received ; a long one from Sir Joshua Reynolds then travelling in Holland, on Dutch pictures ; while Bristol, India transactions, E.oman Catholics, and some more private aifairs, gave unceasing em- ployment to his pen to discuss, and his wisdom to advise. CHAPTEE YIII. Appointed Paymaster General — Reasons for not being: in the Cabinet — Letters to Lord Charlemont — Lord Shelbarne — Coalition — Reports of the Select Committee on Bengal — Communication on the Arts to Barry — India Bill — Mr. Pitt— Mr. Burke elected Lord Rector of the Unirer- sity of Glasgow— Scotsmen — Character of his Epitaph on Sir G. Saville — Reception in the New Parliament — General Haviland and family — Jeu d'Esprit of Dean Marlay — Letter to Miss Shackletou — Anecdotes. Thus had terminated the most severe, and on one side, ably fought political contest in our history, and with it vir- tually the war in which it originated. But the conclusion did not leave Mr. Burke, as it foimd him, virtually if not nomi- nally, leader of the party. Mr. Fox, his political pupil and friend, who had been for some time treading closely on his heels in Parliament, and who had now advanced to an equality in the conduct of business there, added to great popularity out of doors, finally took the lead. For this there were some obvious reasons, 214 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1782 Inferior to his tutor as a great and commanding orator, and what ought to be of more consequence to the country — as a sound and eftective statesman, he frequently excelled him and others in vigour of debate. He possessed peculiar tact beyond all his contemporaries and all his predecessors without exception, chiefly from manners, for being at the head of a political party. He enjoyed all the weight which birth and connexion, and these were then essential objects among the Whigs of England, could give. His acquaintance with the great was necessarily extensive, and his friendships nearly as general ; with the young by community of pursuits and pleasure ; with the old and staid by community of talent. His fortune originally considerable had been squandered ; his temper was easy ; his thirst for popularity excessive as he admitted in a letter to Burke — " amidst all the acclama- tions which are at this moment dinning in my ears, and for which you know I have as much taste as any man ;" his manners were adapted to gain it, and his sacrifices to ensure it. His very faults and weaknesses were with his acquaintance more matter of jest or of apology than of censure. Some of his doctrines were more to the taste of the people who placed confidence in his sincerity ; and with scarcely a shil- ling he could call his own, they were pleased to think him in spirit independent. In most of these points he had the advantage over his coadjutor who had suffered some loss of weight by his rejec- tion at Bristol ; by his disregard of the popular voice when he thought it ill- directed; by a more uncompromising temper; by being supposed a dependant of Lord Rockingham ; and among a certain class by being a native of Ireland. There was unquestionably a jealousy through life of the merits and influence of Burke even among many who advocated the same cause, which nothing but very uncommon powers and extraordinary labours enabled him to surmount, and of which he frequently complained. Under all these disadvantages he had kept the effective lead in the Commons for ten years ; and had Lord North quitted office three years sooner would have filled a higher political station ; the common opinion early ex- pressed at the table of Lord Rockingham being, " that he was the only man who could aavethe empire from dismemberment." Even just before that Minister's resignation, he himself remarks he had obtained a considerable share of public con- fidence notwithstanding the jealousy and obloquy which had 1782. BECOMES PATMASTEE-GEXEEAL. 215 assailed bim during much of his career. '' I do not say I saved my country — I am sure I did my country much service. There were few indeed that did not at that time acknowledge it." That Mr. Fox should now prevail with Westminster at his back, with unbounded popularity in the nation, and with the advantage of that aristocratic feeling in liis favour common in this country, forms no cause for surprise. Mr. Burke, who considered humility in the estimate of ourselves a species of moral duty, submitted to the sense or the neces- sities of his party without a murmur. A vain man would have resented this ; a weak one complained of it ; an ambitious cr selfish one probably taken advantage of it on the first opportunity to quit the connexion for ever, and throw the weight of his name and talents into the opposite scale. No feeling of discontent is known to have escaped from him. In the division of the spoil of office, his share was a seat in the Privj^ Council and the Paymaster- Generalship of the Forces ; then the most lucrative office in the State and remarkable for having been lield by Lords Chatham, Holland, North, and Charles Townshend, previous to their becoming first Ministers. Considerable surprise was expressed at his not being included in the Cabinet. One reason assigned for this was his desire to purge the office in question, not usually a Cabinet office, of its acknowledged impurities, though the real one perhaps was the necessities of his party which required Cabinet offices for men of greater family and Parliamentary interest though of far inferior talents ; and also possibly for thegratificationof LordShelburne and his friends who enjoyed a much larger share of the royal favour. It is also true that he drove no bargain on the subject for himself, expressing to his friends his willingness to serve his country not where ambition might dictate, but where the general interests of government required. His moderation will be still more esteemed when it is known that the chief arrangements for the new Administration were committed to his direction by the Marquis of Eockingham. To this he alluded three months afterwards on the discussions produced by the ele- vation of the Earl of Shelburne to the head of the Treasury. After all, it may be doubted whether this moderation, forbearance, disinterestedness, or by whatever other name it may be designated, was not misplaced. Those who affect humility in political consequence will commonly be taken at 216 LIFE 01 BURKE, ] 782. their word by their associates ; and an attentive examiner will find that Mr. Burke made this mistake throughout his public life. The pride of the Whig aristocracy indeed had scarcely begun as it has been well said, to thaw during the most active part of his career ; and he was therefore perhaps constrained to give way to the more potent influence of birth and family influence. But Whiggism was, and no doubt deserved to be, injured by snch exclusive arrangements. On the present occasion, he ought beyond doubt, to liave been in the Cabinet, and had he insisted upon it a seat could not well and Avould not have been refused. The omission certainly hurt his political reputation among many who could not know or aj^preciate the generosity of the sacrifice he made ; and even at the present day it is urged as a reproach, that though infinitely superior in talents to any member of the Cabinet excepting Mr. Fox, he was forced to accept of an inferior ofiico in administration. His exclusion from the Cabinet remains a permanent stigma on the Whig party. Party however unlike literature, is seldom a Republic. It is Monarchy in miniature, where each must keep an appointed station for the benefit of all ; and where other circumstances such as rank, property, or weight in the country, inde- pendent of talents, must combine to constitute a leader suitable to the views of the dispensers of office. But were a man in this country, of great capacity and attainments though of little influence or fortune, such for instance as Mr. Burke, deliberately to choose his side in polities as he would a profession — that is for the advantages it is likely to bring — he would probably not be a Whig. That numerous and powerful body is, or was, believed to be too tenacious of oflicial consequence to part with it to talents alone — and too prone to consider great family connexion, rather than abilities of humbler birth, as of right entitled to the first offices of the state. They are, or were, willing to grant emolument but not power to any other tlian lawyers, who do not materially interfere with their views on the chief departments of government. This opinion notwithstanding the rather ostentatious profession of popular principles, is believed to have made them sometimes unpopular in the great market of public talent, and to have driven many use- ful allies into the ranks of the Tories. His Majesty with no attempt at concealment received his 1782. LABOTJES OF THE PATMA8TEE-GENERAL. 217 new servants unwillingly, nor is it great matter for surprise. It is hard for any man and most of all perhaps for a king, to receive into his confidence and councils those who for nearly twenty years together have thwarted liis most favourite prejudices or notions. So strong was his aversion to the Eockinghams, that Lord Shelburne, leader of another branch of Opposition, was offered the Treasury in preference to the Marquis, but feeling the want of sufficient weight and con- nexion in Parliament, he prudently declined the honour. The King however made him the channel of communication with Lord Rockingham, who in consequence insisted before he accepted of office, upon certain stipulations, which were — to concede independence to America, to introduce a system of economy into all the departments of the State, and to carry some popular bills through Parliament. The ministerial labours of the Paymaster- Greneral were more considerable than those of any member of the Cabinet. His Reform Bill though much mutilated, passed both Houses, as he found what most reformers in time discover, that it is easier to propose public correctives when out of office than to carry them into effect when in. Many good reasons indeed were assigned for the alterations; and as the measure ultimately stood, no similar purgation of minis- terial influence is known in our history, thirty-sis offices eligible to be held by Members of Parliament being at once abolished. He also declared his readiness whenever the sense of the House would go with him, to adopt every part of the plan he had first proposed. The bill to regulate his own office was deemed a species of feat in ingenuity, labour, and knowledije of business. The system had become so complicated and the abuses so ancient, that a universal feeling prevailed among preceding Pay- masters down to the lowest clerks in the establishment, of the hopelessness of the one being simplified or the other amended. He nevertheless succeeded iu his object chiefly by the assistance of Messrs. Powel and Bembridge, sur- rendering to the public the interest and other advantages accruing from the enormous sum of 1,000,000/. which was not unirequently the amount of the Paymaster's balance in hand. His disinterestedness did not stop there. As trea- sui'er of Chelsea Hospital he became entitled to the profits of clothing the pensioners, amounting to 700/. per annum^ aaid by a new agreement with the contractor managed tc 218 LIFE OF BURKE. 1782 save 600/. more. These sums, which as regular perquisites of office might have been enjoyed without impropriety or reproach, he generously threw into the public treasury. It will scarcely be credited that by this reform of the office, 47,000/. per annum was saved to the public, of which sum 25,300/. were the usual and avowed perquisites of the Pay- master, which all his predecessors received. Considering his pecuniary circumstances these were no ordinary sacrifices to public principle ; and they gained from the country at large and from Parliament just as much credit as such things volun- tarily given usually do — little notice and no recompence. He agreed in the propriety of opening the negociation with Holland ; in a variety of censures passed by Mr. Dundas on the government of India ; and in conceding independence to the Irish Parliament, expressing in a letter to Lord Charle- mont (June 12th) some ingenious sentiments in his usual elegance of manner, more especially in epistolary writing. Hearing that a statue was to be erected to Mr. Grattan, he seized the opportunity of recommending as the artist, a young Irish sculptor named Hickey, thus endeavouring to do for another struggling son of genius what he had previously accomplished for a Poet and a Painter. Hickey however died young. He executed a bust of his patron, now in the British Museum, presented by Mr. Haviland Burke. When the news arrived of Rodney's great naval victory in the West Indies, he declined to renew the inquiry against the commander-in-chief respecting St. Eustatius saying, that on public grounds he had brought it forward, and on public grounds if the House thought proper he would let it drop. After a beautiful apostrophe to the laurel crown of the Romans he concluded by adding — " If there were a bald spot on the head of Rodney, he would willingly cover it with laurels." By the persuasions of Mr. Fox, who had promised all his influence to the popular cause, and who afterwards took much credit to himself with the people of Westminster for the fact, Mr. Burke did not attend a discussion on Par- liamentary Reform, whicli in accordance with his known opinions, he must have opposed. Thus a sacrifiee was made to the popularity of his friend's name, which he never made to his own. — Administration on the whole, did much for popularity, and might have succeeded in the aim to acquire it, when the Marquis of Rockingham, who had been seized ■with the prevailing complaint of the time, influenza, unex- 1782. SHELBTTENE MINISTET. 219 pectedly died. Lord Shelburne, -without intimation to Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, or others of the party attached to the deceased nobleman, instantly vaulted from the Home Depart- ment into the vacancy as Prime Minister. Unable or un- willing to act with him, they immediately resigned. This, which has been considered a hasty measure, cer- tainly did not meet general approval. There is no foun- dation however for an assertion made by some, who profess to know some of the political secrets of the time but who in fact sought to excuse one friend at the expense of another, that it arose chiefly from the irritation of Mr Burke. The suggestion on the contrary as we now know, came from Mr. Fox. His importance, from the situation which he held in administration was more directly aftected by that event : while it is undoubtedly true that both while they disagreed with the new head of the Treasury on some public points, entertained a strong dislike to the private character of the man. He in return is said to have felt quite as cordial an aversion to them ; and he was fortified by ha-\Tng had the ear and favour of the King. The origin of this coolness and dislike, particularly between Burke and the new Premier which was not recent, it is diflB- cult to trace ; but arose probably from some peculiar perhaps unconstitutional sentiments to which his Lordship had occa- sionally given utterance in the House of Peers, and some of which Mr. Burke quoted afterwards in order to condemn. Also to alleged inconsistencies which had occurred when he was in office before — and perhaps to something which he might have heard from his friend Mr. Lauchlan Macleane when the latter was his Lordship's Under Secretary in 1768. That the feeling of that nobleman and his friends towards the late Paymaster was not less marked, became obvious on the 9th of July, when Mr. Fox having justified the line of conduct he had pursued, and being replied to by General Conway who with others of their friends had not resigned, Mr. Burke rose to support ]\Ir, Fox and was met with violent confusion and noise at the bar. For a moment he felt some emotion, arising from delicacy as he said to one part of the House, and the most sovereign contempt towards the other ; but those who by the present unaccountable tumult seemed dissatisfied with his conduct, knew where to find him. — Adverting to the Marquis of Eockingham, he said he was a man of clear head and pure heart, and his successor was directly the reverse— 220 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1782, a man of all others the most unlike him. — Adding, after a variety of strong animadversions, (rather a strange species of apology) — "that he meant no offence, but would speak the honest conviction of his mind; — If Lord Shelbume was not a Catiline or a Borgia in morals it must not be ascribed to any thing but his understanding." At an earlierperiod there seems to have been between these parties some formal politeness but no cordiality, although no cause of aversion had then arisen. To his cousin Nagle Burke had written a few years before — " What you say of Lord Shelburne is more important. I very well remember your application to me some time ago ; I remember too, that I mentioned it to Colonel Barre. Nothing further came of it; I believe that agency was not vacant when you wrote. Between ourselves, and I would not have it go farther, tliere are, I believe, few who can do less with Lord Shelburne than myself. He had formerly, at several times, professed much friendship to one ; hut whenever I came to try the ground, let the matter have heen never so trifling, I always found it to fail under me. It is, indeed, long since he has made even pro- fessions. With many eminent qualities he has some sin- gularities in his character. He is suspicious and whimsical ; and perhaps if I stood better with him than I do, my re- commendation would not have the greatest weight in the world." This nobleman, A\-ith considerable talents, extensive infor- mation, and perhaps a better acquaintance with the foreign relations of the country than Mr. Fox who fiUed that de- partment, had unfortunately acquired a character for poli- tical bad faith. He had been designated a Jesuit and nick- named Malagrida for some years. In several points report had been busy with certain peculiarities of character ; he was accused of insincerity, of duplicity, and even of want of com- mon veracity toward his colleagues ; to which on the present occasion some slighter circumstances gave countenance, though it is but just to observe, the more serious charges against him were never proved. It is not a little remark- able that the unknown writer of Junius' s Letters seems to have had a similar aversion to him, for in recommending por- traits of the Ministry to the caricature pencil of Lord Towns- hend, (Sept. ]6, 17G7), he gives loose to licentious satire on Lord Shelburne, then Secretary of State for the Southern Department, in a bitterly sarcastic strain. By the friends of 1782. SHELBTTB^TE MITTI8TET. 221 his Lordsliip the revolt of the Eockinghams was ascribed to petulance ; to the disappointed ambition of Mr. Pox ; to the desire of Mr. Biu-ke to place the Duke of Portland at tlie head of the Treasury ; and to consequent discontent at finding the Earl's influence in the highest quarter so much greater than their own. Of this superior influence, there had been abundant proofs — in the ofler of the Treasury, as already stated, in preference to the ]\Iarquis ; in securing, almost unknown to that nobleman, the Order of the Gl-arter for himself; a heavy pension for Colonel Barre ; and a peerage, a pension, with the unusual honour of a seat in the Cabinet as Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster for Mr. Dunning, both his intimate friends and chief supporters in the House of Commons. While an enforced obligation compelled Burke, at least for the present, to let the cutting-edge of his Heform Bill glance harmless over tlie Ducliy in question, now placed under the guardianship of tliis friend. The peusion to Colonel Barre having excited animadversion some time afterward in the Commons, his Lordsrl:iip urged that it had been the proposal of Lord Eockingham himself, in lieu of the Pay-ofiice which he wished to give to Mr. Burke; and that he had the letter in his pocket in which the offer was made. Burke and Lord John Townshend peremptorily denied any such arrangement in tlie strongest manner, called the story an utter fabrication, and dared him to produce the letter. The letter never was produced. Mr. Pox, Mr. Courtenay, Mr. Lee, reiterated the charge of breach of veracity on other points. These circumstances account, in some measure, for Burke's increased aversion to the new Minister ; and that he thought his own motives pure there is no doubt, as he could not he said give a stronger instance of sincerity than with a small fortune and large family to sacrifice a lucrative office to public principle. And to the moment of the Usher of the Black Eod arriving to summon the House to hear the prorogation, he did not cease from strong animadversion. In addition to labours on general Economical Eeform and on his own office during this short official existence, were several letters and papers drawn up for Lord Eockingham ; one a speech or memorial to the king on the true nature of that bill, and a few others. Prom Mr. (afterwards Sir Wil- liam) Jones on a proposed bill for India ; from Crabbe, now formally become the " reverend ;" from Bishop Barnard and Mr. Eden in Ireland ; letters of respect and of congratula- 222 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1782. tion on accession to office were received. To William Burke, then in Madras, he wrote a few particulars of his position in the most affectionate strain as — " My dear, my ever dear friend :" states his salary to be four thousand pounds, his son's as deputy, five hundred, with the Secretaryship of the Treasury open to his brother if he chose to quit the bar. Dr. King, afterwards Bishop of Rochester, had given the same gentleman by desire of Burke aU the pre- liminary details of the party coming into power. A warm and affectionate letter "My dearest Burke," also came from the Duke of Portland, then Viceroy of Ireland, on the loss they had sustained in the Marquis, hinting at the difficulty of the position intended for him, that of First Lord of the Treasury ; but adding — " you have a right to influence my wishes and to direct my opinion." In June of this year Madame d' Arblay, then Miss Burney, first met Mr. Burke and his family at dinner at Sir Joshua Eeynolds', on Richmond Hill. He asked to be introduced, sat opposite to her, complimented her writings, and became so amusing by the variety and brilliancy of his con- versation as, in the words of the fair narrator herself to the vrriter some years ago,* " Completely to win my admiration. — A young authoress," she says," could scarcely feel other- wise M-ith attentions from one, who before he was introduced, and when I could but conjecture who he was, exhibited very evidently that he was no common man. He was ever after- wards most kind and friendly to me, as well as to my father, when kindness and countenance were valuable to a young writer." She goes on to describe him in her memoirs — " He is tall ; his figure is noble ; his air commanding, his address graceful. His voice is clear, penetrating, sonorous, and power- ful ; his language copious, various and eloquent ; his manners attractive ; his conversation delightful. * * * Neither is the charm of his discourse more in the matter than the manner ; all therefore that is related from him loses half of its effect when not related by him." * On my first interview with her, which was obtained with some diffi- culty throug-h the medium o*'the friends of her son, my object being in re- ference to some reported aneodotes of Goldsmith, she said — " I have for some time ceased to see all strang-ers. I am not equal to it. I admit you now only in consideration of beins continued. In 250 LIFE OF BURKE. 1786. 1782, Mr. Dundas as Chairman of the Secret Committee, moved and carried a string of severe resolutions against him, among others his recall, which vras ordered accordingly ; but the Proprietors having still by the constitution of the Company the power so to do, again negatived the order. At length in February 1785, he quitted Bengal of his own accord, just as Lord Macartney had been appointed to it from Madras, but whose assumption of the supreme authority it was declared by Mr. Hastings and his party they had determined to resist even by force, had that nobleman arrived in Calcutta before he embarked. On reaching England, the Directors passed a vote of thanks for his long and meritorious services, though for years they had complained that his proceedings were most ob- jectionable; that he despised their authority ; and never paid the slightest regard to their orders when they happened to be at variance with his own opinions. And Mr. Dundas had already declared that "Mr. Hastings rarely quitted Cal- cutta that his track was not followed by the deposition of some prince, the desertion of some ally, or the depopulation of some country." All these circumstances, in addition to many specific and well-known oftences, tended to confirm Mr. Burke in his purpose, and to believe that his motives at any rate for inquiring into the conduct of such a refractory and violent servant could not be questioned. Alluding to these during the preliminary proceedings he observed : " Least of all could it be said with any colour of truth that he was actuated by passion. Anger, indeed, he had felt, but surely not a blameable anger ; for who ever heard, of an inquiring anger, a digesting anger, a collating anger, an examining anger, or a selecting anger ? The anger he had felt was an uniform, steady, public principle, without any intermixture of private animosity ; that anger, which five years ago warmed his breast, he felt precisely the same, and unimpaired, at that moment." " Let who will shrink back," said he, touching on the same theme, in 1785, " I shall be found at my post. Baffled, discountenanced, subdued, dis- credited, as the cause of justice and humanity is, it will be only the dearer to me. Whoever, therefore, shall at any time bring before you any thing toward the relief of our dis- tressed fellow-citizens in India, and towards the subversion of the present most corrupt and oppressive system for its go- I \ * 1786. ME. HASTINGS. 251 vernment, in me shall find a weak, I am afraid, but a steady, earnest, and fiiithful assistant." Ten years afterward vtiien the trial had been disposed of, he again alluded to his motives. " Were I to call for a reward (which I have never done), it should be for those (services) in which for fourteen years, without intermission, I have showed the most in- dustry, and had the least success ; I mean in the affairs of India. They are those on which I value myself the most ; most for tlie importance ; most for the labour ; most for the judgment ; most for constancy and perseverance in the pur- suit. Others may value them most for the inteiition. In that surely they are not mistaken.'" The belief in Mr. Hastings's guilt was very general in India as well as in England, by those who had the nearest views of what was going on. Among these in addition to many others, was the late Mr. Charles Grrant whose know- ledge of India, integrity, and abilities were equally un- questioned, and to whom for eminent services a statue has been voted by the Company. To the last moment of his life this gentleman stedfastly persevered on all occasions in the strongest censure of the obnoxious Grovernor General, and as firmly resisted every proposition that could be con- sidered complimentary to his memory. From authority which the writer cannot question, he is likewise informed, that the late Marquis Wellesley who ought to have a sound judgment on the matter, entertained no doubt whatever of the guilt of Mr. Hastings, particularly on the first three charges ; and that he ought to have been convicted. In addition to this, it is well kuown that Mr. Dundas under Lord North's administration, was the first accuser of Mr. Hastings ; procured the vote for his recall ; and threatened him with punishment. Mr. Francis also, in the debate in 1788 on the propriety of making him a manager of tlie im- peachment boasted, that " he supplied the information, furnished the materials, and lyrompteA the prosecution, and therefore he would not stand aloof if the house thouglit proper to employ him in that capacity." It is therefore extremely unjust to consider Mr. Burke, as is frequently done through ignorance or malice, either as the original accuser or as the only instigator of a prosecution which un- questionably arose from pure motives in several eminent men. The obloquy cast upon him during the trial, in books, 252 LIFE OF BUREE. 1786. pamphlets, and newspapers, in verse and in prose, in private and in many public discussions not excepting even the courts of law, was as great as that thrown on the Grovernor General, A stranger in reading the publications of the day, would have been almost at a loss to tell the accused from the accuser. His language on all occasions, the arrangements during the proceedings, the smallest inadvertency committed by the other managers, and particularly the length of the trial which arose more from the nature of the House of Lords as a Court of Judicature and the mode of defence, than from the managers, proved fruitful themes of abuse directed against Mr. Burke alone. To forward this sums of money to the amount it is said of £20,000 were distributed for that pur- pose to the press. An imprudent dispute between the agent of the prisoner, Major Scott, and a printer of a newspaper, disclosed a bill which excited some amusement when made public, the items regularly marked and charged running thus — " Letters against Mr. Burke," "Strictures upon the conduct of Mr. Burke," '* Attacking Mr. Burke's veracity," the latter being charged at five shillings — a small sum he jocularly remarked, for such a purpose — and others of similar import. In addition to these, squibs without number issued from various quarters, one of which, Simkin's letters, though not the best of their class, formed a tolerably fair and amusing satire on the conduct and speeches of the chief managers, without more censure of Burke than such things prescriptively claim. The opening alludes to one of his pecu- liarities : — "With respect to processions, and taking: of places. By Masters and Judges, and Lordships and Graces ; According to promise, I now shall describe The procession of Burke, and his eloquent tribe. First Edmund walks in at the head of the group The powerful chief of that powerful troop ; What awful solemnity's seen in his gait, "While the nod of his head beats the time to his feet. An epigram, said to be written by Lord EUenborough, then one of the prisoner's counsel and the idea of which though not acknowledged, is borrowed from Mr. Burke him- self in a passage in the letter to Lord Kenmare, was de- livered to him in a note just before opening one of the charges, in order that the sting might discompose him in the performance of this duty, but he calmly conveyed it to hia 1786. TEIAL 01" HASTINGS. 253 pocket without emotion. It is remarkable that the reputed author of this, after being repeatedly reprimanded on the trial for his violence of language, lived to exhibit on the judgment seat where above all other places it is least excu- sable, the irritability which he had censured in Mr. Burke, for whom as an accuser at the bar there was some apology. A conviction of the guilt of the Governor General remained in the mind of the latter to the last hour of his life, and was expressed to his friends whenever the subject was mentioned. To others not so intimate he was nearly as unreserved. During tlie progress of the investigation, Mr. Pitt re- peatedly said that it was conducted by the right honourable gentleman (Mr. Burke) with every degree of fairness, openness, and candour, of which it was susceptible. " The atfairs of India," said Mr. Fox, " had long been hid in a darkness as hostile to inquiry as it was friendly to guilt ; but by the exertions of one man, these clouds had been dissi- pated. His ardent virtue, his sublime genius, and that glowing enthusiasm so essential to both, had, with the appli- cation of years, left them nothing of information at present to desire." He frequently stated that no man but his right honourable friend could have accomplished the more than Herculean task of tlie investigation itself, or surmounted the incessant and vexatious difficulties at every step thrown in his way. These, during the trial in the Lords, were of an extraordinary nature, scarcely a point of evidence being ad- mitted against the prisoner without quibble and cavil, dis- cussion and adjournment, and ultimately from the forms of law, a decision in his favour. No reader perhaps but a lawyer will be satisfied with the course of the trial. Few consci- entious men will be pleased with the result of it, or the means uniformly adopted to evade inquiry into the merits of the transactions themselves, which in the eye of morality will leave Mr. Hastings if not a guilty man, at least a sus- pected one. In the general opinion, as well as in that of an acute historian, if his accusers did not prove his guilt, he himself did not prove his innocence.* On the question of delay in the trial urged pretty fre- quently in 1790, Mr. Burke alleged that, though nominaUy of some years' duration, it was in reality only sixty-four • Mill's Histcry of British India, vol v. 254 LIFE OF BITEKE. 1786. days, at four hours each day. The managers coidd not pos- sibly be responsible for the delays, prorogations, and adjourn- ments of the House of Lords with which they had nothing whatever to do ; that even sixty-four days was not an unpre- cedented thing in their own House, for an Election Committee had continued ninety days ; and that as the number of the charges and the magnitude of the offences were greater than had ever been laid to the charge of any one impeached by that House, so no fair comparison could be drawn between the periods required for trial. Mr. Pitt repeatedly declared, that, looking to the magnitude and difficulty of the under- taking, he did not think there was any ground for the charge of delay. If any unnecessary delay existed, assuredly it rested not with the managers. Many attributed it to the artifices of the defendant or his lawyers. Mr. Dundas pointedly said, "there seemed no litfle art used in the clamour about delay, for it was always raised towards the end of a session, but never at the beginning of it when steps might possibly be taken to provide a remedy. No share of the blame rested with that House or with the managers. If there were any delay in the trial, it lay he cared not who heard him or where his declaration might be repeated, at the door of the House of Lords." It appears by computation, that had the House sat as an ordinary Court of Judicature ten hours a day, the trial would have been finished in two mouths. Another charge was the intemperance and asperity of his language towards the prisoner. To this it has been replied with great truth, that no prosecutor's temper was ever before so tried by difficulties of every kind, by objections, by cavils, by libels without number out of doors ; by taunts, by irritating language, and indirect censure within ; and towards the close of the trial by the obvious distaste towards the prosecution itself displayed by some members of the Court which he had to address. One remarkable instance of this excited general notice. On the 25th of May 1793, when cross-examining Mr. Auriol, and pushing him closely at some length on account of the obvious distaste of the witness to be as explicit as was desired, his old acquaintance the Archbishop of York who resumed his former privilege of being rude and even insolent, and had already evinced strong symptoms of impatience, — chiefly it was surmised because his son had been in high and profitable employments in India under ]Mr. Hastings, started up and said that " he examined 1786. TEIAL or EASTINGS. 255 the witness as if he were examining not a gentleman but a pickpocket ; that the illiberality of the managers in the course of the long trial could not be exceeded by Marat and Eobespierre, had the conduct of the trial been committed to them." Burke, with great dignity and forbearance, and his accustomed presence of mind replied, " I have not in my public capacity heard one word of what has been spoken, and I shall act as if I had not." " Upon reading the printed minutes of the evidence with due care," says an his- torian, with whom, however, from political causes, Mr. Burke does not stand so well as he otherwise might — " I perceive that Mr. Burke treated the witness as an unwilling witness, which he evidently was : as a witness who though incapable of perjury was yet desirous of keeping back wliatever was unfavourable to Mr. Hastings, and from whom information unfavourable to Mr. Hastings if he possessed it must be extorted by that coercion which it is the nature and to the very purpose of cross-examination to apply. Of the tones employed by Mr. Burke, the mere reader of the minute cannot judge ; but of the questions there set down, there is not one which approaches to indecorum, or makes one undue insinuation. It was the Eight Beverend Prelate, therefore, who betrayed an intemperate mind, which as ill accorded with the justice of the case, as with the decencies of either his judicial or sacerdotal character."* The facts of the trial which immediately relate to the chief manager are speedily told. On the 16th of June 1785, Mr. Hastings arrived in England ; and on the 20th Mr. Burke gave notice of an inquiry into his conduct next session. Accordingly, the very day of the meeting of Parliament, Major Scott trusting it appeared to a belief that the minister would negative the motion for inquiry, called upon Mr. Burke to proceed ; and received the reply of the Duke of Parma to Henry IV. of France when challenged to bring his forces into the field and instantly decide their disputes — that he knew very well what to do, and had not come so far to be directed by an enemy. Mr. Fox declared tliat if his Eight Hon, friend did not bring it forward, other members sliould sup- ply his place ; a sufficient indication that it was a general, not as was said, an individual measure. In February and • Mill's History of British India, vol. v. pp. 181-82. 256 LIFE OF BURKE. • 1786. "March, Mr. Burke moved for various papers, and declared liis intentiou to proceed by impeacliment at the bar of the House of Lords. lu April the charges were delivered in. Juue the 1st he opened the first charge, — that of driving the Eohillas from their country — which though formerly reprobated by the House as an iniquitous proceeding was now held not to afford matter for crimiuation. To the second brought forward by Mr. Pox, that of the tyranny exercised over the Eajah of Benares, Mr. Pitt assented, when the friends of the Governor General turning round upon the Minister, accused him loudly of treacliery, asserting they had been led by hints and promises to expect a difterent result. The remaining charges were gone through in the succeeding session, commencing 25th January 1787, and approved in general by the Minister, Mr. Sheridan opening with the celebrated speech on the Begum charge. A committee of impeachment was then formed. On the 25th of April the articles were delivered in by the chairman, Mr. Burke ; on the 9th of May considered ; when Mr. Pitt, in the very strongest language he could use voted heartily and con- scientiously he said for the impeachment. Next day Mr. Burke accused the prisoner at the bar of the House of Lords, in the name of the Commons of England. After a few preliminary proceedings, in the session of 1787-1788, in which he complained of being wholly crippled by the rejection of Mr. Francis as a member of the Com- mittee, Westminster Hall was opened in form the 13th of February, when he led the procession thither, being as well as the other managers in full dress, foUowed by the House of Commons, Clerks of Parliament, Masters in Chancery, the Serjeants-at-law, Judges, House of Peers, and Eoyal Family, the Prince of Wales being last. Two days were occupied in preliminary business. On the 15th, before eight o'clock in the morning, though the proceedings did not commence before twelve, the Hall was crowded to excess, one hundred and sixty-four Peers being also present, anxious to hear the opening speech, of which the historian of the trial gives the following account. " Mr. Burke immediately rose and made his obedience to the Coiu't ; every eye was at this moment rivetted vipon him. ' He stood forth he said at the command of the Commons of Great Britain as the accuser of Warren Hastings.' IMr. Burke then stopped for above a minute 1787, TRIAL OF HASTINGS. 257 at the end of which he resumed, and continued his speech for two hours and a halt'. It was grave and temperate yet pathetic and affecting. Every expression and sentiment was appropriate ; and though in the progress of it, he led the ignorant to the most familiar acquaintance with the origin of the crimes and evils of India, he astonished the most knovr- ing with the new aspect he gave to the whole, after it had been so long agitated and thoroughly discussed : first having apostrophized the tribunal before which he stood — congratu- lated his country on possessing so powerful an instrument of justice, and so authoritative a corrector of abuse — and hoped that no corruptions would ever taint, and no societies of special pleading and of Old Bailey prevarication, be able to undermine it." The speech of the 16th, when the number of Peers present was increased to one hundred and seventy-five, occupied about three hours and a half, in which he severely commented upon the " geographical morality" as he hap^^ily termed it of Mr. Hastings : a set of principles suited only to a particular climate, so that what constituted peculation and tyranny in Europe, lost their name and essence in India. A fine burst of indignant eloquence occurred when alluding to the un- limited authority assumed by the Governor-General. " But Mr. Hastings had pleaded the local customs of Hindostan as requiring the coercion of arbitrary power. He indeed to claim arbitrary power ! From whom could he derive, or by what audacity could he claim such a power ? He could not have derived it from the East India Company, for they had none to confer. He could not have received it from his Sovereign, for the Sovereign had it not to bestow. It could not have been given by either House of Parliament — for it was unknown to the British Constitution!" After alluding to the laws of India as well as of England, and instancing the Koran — the Institutes of Timur — the Gentoo Code- all opposed to every idea of tyrannical usurpation as strong and steadfast as our own Statutes at large — he proceeded. " Talk to me any where of power, and I'll tell you of pro- tection! Mention a magistrate, and the idea foUc^s of property ! Show me any government, and you are to see the proposed interest of tlie governed ! Power constituted otherwise is a monster — it is impossible ! — in every system where there is any notion of the justice of God or the good of f 258 LIFE OF BTIRKT! 1787. mankind. To act or think otherwise s blasphemy to religion, no less than confusion in social orcer ! For ' Every good and perfect gift is of God' — and what good gift of God to man can be more perfect than the innate idea of justice and mercy — the law written in our hearts the primum vivens, the ultimum moriens, of every being that has the boast of reason I'' The I8th was chiefly occupied in detailing the characters and horrible cruelties of some of the native agents of Government while grossly abusing their authority in the provinces. The 19th concluded this oration or series of orations, occupying about three hours each day : and so great was the eftect of tlie whole upon bis auditory that it was only after a considerable lapse of time and repeated efforts, Mr. Fox who had next to address the court, could obtain a hearing. From the illness of the King and the absence of the Judges, the proceedings did not commence till the 20th of April, 1789. Next day be began another powerful oration on the sixth charge of bribery and cor- ruption. Each party soon accused the other of a wish to delay the proceedings, but the managers to obviate the charge on their part voluntarily determined to confine them- selves to the more serious heads of delinquency, omitting the others for the sake of expedition. The re-assembling of the new Parliament in 1790, produced animated discussions in both Houses whether the impeachment had not abated by the dissolution of the old ; which after much discussion was decided in the negative against the opinion of the law authorities. Public anxiety on the trial had however abated. The forms of the Court and the complicated nature of the investigation, presented invincible obstacles to that quick progress which is always necessary to keep alive popular interest on such occasions ; and it continued without any other event of consequence than the severe speeches of the chief manager, often excited however by the annoyances he received, till April 23rd, 1795, when a verdict of acquittal passed ; the Lord Chancellor voting with the minority who thought him guilty. The duty of the managers indeed had terminated in June preceding, by summing up on the dif- ferent charges, Mr. Burke being the last ; and his con- cluding oration, which commenced on the 28th of May, continued for nine days. The thanks of the House, moved 1787. CHAEACTEE OF HASTINGS. 259 by Mr. Pitt asid seconded by Mr. Dundas, were immediately voted to the managers. Mr. Hastings, like every one else under similar circum- stances, is fully entitled to the benefit of the verdict recorded in his favour. But when not content with this, he or his friends impugn the motives of the prosecutors, less reserve is necessary in adverting to his general character as an Indian ruler. He was a man of considerable powers of mind — bold, assuming, and energetic ; possessed of that species of energy which in pushing its own views or interests seldom stopped to consider the rights, or condition, or feelings of others who stood in his way. He forgot that Princes in India like those elsewhere, were entitled to some degree of consider- ation and delicacy from the station they occupied in their country ; that good faith, justice, and sincerity are in some degree necessary even in dealing with persons of an opposite character ; that moderation in the exercise of authority is commonly the wisest policy ; that an arbitrary spirit assumed by the principal in government is sure to become tyranny in the subordinate agents. Prom long familiarity with the country, his mind had become perverted to the belief that he was at perfect liberty to adopt the practices of the Asiatics however unprincipled, in matters of government. He for- got that such conduct compromised English credit and character and might possibly have a tendency to shake our future hold upon this " Empire of opinion." Many of his measures were undoubtedly brilliant ; many very question- able ; not a few at variance with all English ideas of justice or even expediency. In this opinion some of the latest and best wi'iters on India concur.* He had so thoroughly entered into the spirit of an Asiatic monarch that he seemed to think the mere expression of his commands or wishes formed evidence enough of their utility and propriety ; that among Hindoos, whenever the slightest necessity pressed on a point of policy, the end to be answered justified the means ; a species of geographical morality, as Burke emphatically termed it, which he handled in the severest terms. Just in the same spirit, and on many of the same pleas, did the late ruler of France put his foot on the necks of the prostrate kings and nations of Europe ; and in the page of • Mill's History ot Iniia — Malcolm's Political History of India; passim. 2G0 LITE or BUEKE. 17S7, history the verdict -^^hich condemns the one cannot Avholly acquit the other. To try the Governor- Greneral then was a matter of positive duty in order to clear the character of the nation. To acquit him was perhaps a measure of necessity due to the quibbles of law of which he invariably took advantage ; to the ill-defined nature of his power ; to the acknowledged difficulties by which he was sometimes beset ; and to the spirit of some of his instructions which to gratify the cupidity of the proprietors of India stock in Europe, seemed to embody the pith of the thrifty advice — " make money, honestly if possible, but at all events make money." He succeeded in pouring into their coffers a sum of nine millions, by means which no glossing or apology can make pure. The length of the trial indeedformed no inconsiderable punishment of itself. But the investigation did much good by evincing that though the Legislature had slumbered over the wrongs of the Indian people, impunity to their oppressors was no longer to be expected. Its remissness hitherto had been the chief cause for the continuance of abuse. Had the conduct of several others whomMr. Dundas previously accused been subjected to a similar ordeal, Mr. Hastings would not have attempted or continued his more objectionable proceedings in the face of certain inquiry and probable punishment ; and no one since has dared to imitate him.* * These opinions, written thirty years ag-o, have recently received further confirmation from a disting'uished Statesman of the present day. Burlie's hibours tlierefore have not been in vain. " This course of cupidity and fraud (in India) of robbery and oppression was broug-ht to a close by the impeachment of Warren Hasting's. The mind of Mr. Burke comprehended the vast extent of the question, and hia genius animated the heavy mass of materials which his industry had enabled him to master. He enlisted in this cause the powerful reasoning of Fox and the brilliant fancy of Sheridan. After a time he succeeded in gaining- the support of Air. Pitt, and armed ag^ainst the former g-overnor of India the great battery of impeachment. Whether the Minister was convinced by the evidence which threw so full a light on the misdeeds of Warren Ilastiug-s, or whether he was glad to protect himself from the ambition of a rival by acceding- to a prosecution against him, tlie eftect was no Ifss certain. For years Mr. Burke persevered in his great task. Neither the dilatory plea of a dissolution of Parliament, nor the appalling- earthquake of the French Revolution (to none more appalling than tohimj ever distracted his attention from his great Indian enterprise. Tho speeches delivered by him in Westminster Hall ure great monuments of 1787. MANAGEE3 OF THE IMPEACHMENT. 2G1 Memorable as the trial is for the space it will occupy in history and the excitement it produced in the nation, it is still more remarkable for the displays, or rather feats of genius in its conductors, wholly unparalleled, " shaking the walls that surrounded them," in the words of Mr. Erskine, *' with anathemas of super-human eloquence." It seemed an arena for the emulative oratory of Fox, Sheridan, "Windham, Grey, and others, names that ennoble any page on which they are inscribed, who seemed on this question to be pitted for victory as much over each other as over the accused. But above them all beyond dispute stood Burke. He had devoted more attention to the subject, and in some degree staked his reputation that there were urgent grounds at least for inquiry. He was master of it at a time when few others knew or cared much about the matter. He had more at stake in the result, in consequence of its being represented, however untruly, as his prosecution. The reproach and misrepresentation to which it gave rise served not to damp, but increase and sharpen the energy of his mind, while the occasion was peculiarly suited to exhibit the vast extent of his knowledge and the unrivalled variety of his powers. All these considerations produced exertions without precedent or example ; so extraordinary indeed that, upon a low calcu- lation the whole of his speeches and writings connected with it, which at present occupy seven octavo volumes, would fill five others if fully collected ; and to give an intelligible out- line of each speech, paper, or report, would of itself make no inconsiderable book. The principal however are to be found in his works. The greatest amazement even to those who knew liim best, was excited by the ojtening speech or speeches of the im- peachment, which a modern writer, adverse to the impeach- industry and eloquence ; they surpass in power those of Cicero when denouncinsj the crimes of Verres. Finally although the impeachment ended in an acquittal, its results were memorable and beneficial Nev<=r has the ^reht object of punishment, the prevention of crime, been att;iined more completely than by this trial. * *■ * Mr. Hastiu;;-s was acquitted, but tyranny, deceit, and injustice were condemned. India was saved from abominations disg'raceful to the English name. * • * Thus, after the rejection of the India Bill and amid the rout of the "Whig party, Mr. Burke and Mr. Fox succeeded in the preat object of saving the Imliau people from rapine and fraud." — Lord John JiuKgcWg JJemor'alg utd Correspondencf oj Churlcs James Fox, vol. ii. pp. 2ha, 256, -57. 262 LirE OF BUEKE. 1787. ment itself, thus characterizes in the general terms em- ployed at the time. " Never were the powers of that won- derful man displayed to such advantage as on this occasion ; and he astonished even those who were most intimately ac- quainted with him by the vast extent of his reading, the variety of his resources, the minuteness of his information, and the lucid order in which he arranged the whole for the support of his object, and to make a deep impression on the minds of his hearers." Nothing certainly in the way of fact, and little in theatrical representation, ever exceeded the effects produced among the auditory by the details of the cruelties of Debi Sing, which he gave on the third day, from the reports of Mr. Paterson who had been sent as commissioner to inquire into the circumstances. The whole statement* is appalling and heart-sickening in the extreme. A convulsive sensation of horror, affright, and smothered execration pervaded all the male part of his hearers, and audible sobbings and screams attended with tears and faintings, the female. His own feelings were scarcely less overpowering. He dropped his head upon his hands and for some minutes was unable to proceed ; from this he recovered sufficiently to go on a little further, but being obliged to cease from speaking twice at short intervals, the Prince of Wales to relieve liim at length moved the adjournment of the House. Alluding to the close of this day, the writer of the History of the trial, says — " In this part of his speech Mr. Burke's descriptions were more vivid, more harrowing, and more horrific, than human utterance on either fact or fancy, perhaps, ever formed before. The agitation of most people was very apparent — Mrs. Sheridan was so overpowered that she fainted : several others were as powerfully effected." Mrs. Siddons is said to have been one of the number. " His powers," says a political adversary, " were never more conspicuous than on that memorable day, on which he exposed the enormities of a subaltern agent of oriental despotism — the tortures inflicted by his orders, the flagrant injustice committed by his authority, the pollution that •See Burke's Works, 8vo. vol. xiif. p. 320—327; but the whole Listory of the monster Debi Siiifr, from p. 296 of the same volume, is a matter of deep interest. Mr. Burke said that jf40,000 was the bribe paid for Debi Sing^'s appointment. 1787. HIS SPEECHES against hastixois. 263 ensued in consequence of his sanction — when he painted agonizing JSature, vibrating in horrid suspense between life and destruction — when he described, in the climax of crimes, * death introduced into the sources of life,' the bosoms of his auditors became convulsed with passion, and those of more delicate organs or weaker frame actually swooned away. Nay, at\er the storm of eloquence had spent its force, and his voice for the moment ceased, his features still expressed the energy of his feelings, his hand seemed to threaten punishment, and his brow to meditate vengeance." The testimony of the accused party himself, is perhaps the strongest ever borne to the powers of any speaker of any country. " For half an hour," said Mr. Hastings, " I looked up at the orator in a reverie of wonder ; and during that space I actually felt myself the most culpable man on earth ;" adding however, " But I recurred to my own bosom, and there found a consciousness that consoled me under all I heai'd and all I suftered." Even the flinty temperament of the Chancellor, Lord Thurlow, was affected almost to producing w^hat Burke applied to him on another occasion, iron tears down Pluto's cheek; and judging by his expres- sions at the time, his faith in Mr. Hastings' purity seemed staggered. Addressing the Peers some days afterwards, he concluded a handsome eulogium on the speech, by observing, " that their Lordships all knew the eftect upon the auditors, many of whom had not to that moment, and perhaps never would recover fz'om the shock it had occasioned." The peroration, though it wants the lasi polish of the pow- erful pen of the author, is frequently mentioned as one of the most impressive in the records of judicial oratory. Of his physical as well as mental exertions during this ar- duous investigation, some idea may be formed from the fact that for weeks together even at so late a period of the pro- ceedings as 1793 he was constantly occupied between AVest- minster Hall and the House of Commons without quitting them, from nine o'clock in the morning until six or seven in the evening ; and often w hen there was any debate of conse- quence, to a much later hour. During the busiest sessions of the impeachment, 1786, 1787, and 1788, Mr. Burke's attention was chiefly though not solely occupied by its details. The other measures in which he took part were in opposing "with an almost over* 264 LIF£ OF BURKE. 1787, fthelming torrent of eloquence" in the language used at the time, the extension of power to the Governor- General of India by the East India Judicature Bill ; and the declaratory act, which indirectly gave to ^Ministry much of the power more openly assumed by the India bill of Opposition in 1783, and for which they lost their places. He also came forward on the constitution of the governments of Canada ; on a petition from the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council against forestallers and regrators, the laws against %vhom as remnants of barbarism, he had been the means of repealing in 1772 ; in warmly approving, in the name of Opposition the plan for the consolidation of the Customs ; the vote of money for the American loyalists ; the treaty with the Landgrave of Hesse, and the renewal of our continental connexions ; the provision for a meritorious public servant Sir John Skynner ; in pushing forward the Slave Trade Abolition question now actively taken vip by Mr. Wilberforce ; and other less important matters. The commercial treaty with France gave occasion to some bitterly- sarcastic sparring between him and the Minister. The aggression being on the part of tlie former may perhaps be put down to the account of party spirit, for in a subse- quent speech on the same topic which Mr. Pitt notwith- standing their former encounter characterized as displaying a very singular share of ability; Mr. Burke ditlered from the other Members of Opposition in admitting that though he questioned the policy of that treaty, he had not the slightest fears of its injuring our own manufacturers. While speaking on this subject, and drawing a masterly comparison of the relative circumstances and capabilities of the two countries which drew cheers from both sides of the House, he took occasion to reply ably, but satirically, to some obser- vations made on a former occasion by a member, who, being one of nine said to be returned by a noble Earl, had thence acquired the ludicrous appellation of nine pins. Mr. Eos, entering the House at the moment of the cheer, inquired of Mr. Sheridan the cause of it. " Oh ! nothing of conse- quence," replied the wit, '* only Burke knocking down one of the nine pins .'" The tension of mind produced by these great public labours found occasional relaxation by short summer ex- cursions into different parts of the kingdom, and in frequent i 1787. VISIT TO lEELATH). 265 correspondence with some old friends, and warm admirers among his countrymen. In 1785 he wrote to Dr. Beaufort, author of an able and well-known Memoir of a Map of Ireland, to procure for him a skeleton of the enormous species of moose deer, sometimes dug up in the bogs of that country, ; having an inclination, as he said, to see such a stately pro- duct of his native country placed in his hall. In October 1786, induced by " a sudden fire-side thought," as he ex- pressed it, he and his son proceeded thither, remaining not more than a fortnight. He found time, however, to spend a day and night at Ballitore, the last opportunity that offered of seeing those early friends on their own soil ; and on meet- ing with some of the old domestics of the establishment, not only remembered them perfectly, but behaved with his cha- racteristic kindness and affability, an anecdote of which has been already related. His arrival in Ireland was an- nounced in the chief newspapers in terms of warm admira- tion, and as these faithful daily chroniclers on the whole give passing opinions pretty tairly, one of them may be quoted — " After an absenc'e of many years, the celebrated Irish orator and British Member of Parliament, Edmund Burke, has arrived in his native country. It is not flattery to say, that he is the boast of the English Senate, and the glory of the Irish nation." One of the first poets in that kingdom wrote some encomiastic verses on the occasion, which Mr. Burke repaid in prose more than equal in point of fancy and imagination to the tuneful eftusion. It was deemed extra- ordinary that the University of Dublin did not then present him with the honorary degree of doctor of laws. But alas ! how frequently is it that Ireland so often neglects lier emi- nent sons, while other divisions of tlie kingdom ring with their merits ? In returning to England, the Reverend Dr. Campbell (author of a work on Ireland) happened to embark in the same packet : " I don't know any tiling," said the Doctor to a friend in conversation on this subject, " that gave me so much pleasure as to find that I was to cross the Irisli Helles- pont in the company of a man of whom I had heard so much. I was extremely sorry that I had not the honour of being known to any one of the passengers who could introduce me to hmi, but it was not difficult to provoke Mr. Burke to con- versation. We were in sight of the hUl of Howtli just as the 266 LIFE OF BTJEKE. 1787. sun began to spread his beams. Mr. Burke enjoyed thebeauties of the scenery ; even the light clouds, which enveloped the top of the hill did not escape his attention : * I wonder,' said he, ' that some of the Dublin milliners do not form a head-dress in imitation of those many-coloured clouds, and eaU it the Howth-cap.' His conversation was rich and captivating ; he told me he had passed some days at Lord Kenmare's country- seat near the lakes of Killarney — that delightful spot, which taste seems to have selected from all that is beautiful in the volume of nature. But his description of it exceeded any thing I had ever read or heard before, particularly when he touched on the flowery race ; good heaven ! how he clothed the lily in new-born light, and the rose in virgin blushes ; in short, it may be said, that he almost coloured to the eye whatever he described. Speaking of Lord Charlemont, he praised the gentleness of his manners, and the mildness of his temper, and concluded by comparing him to an old picture, whose tints were mellowed by time. "When I talked of the state of learning in Ireland, he shook his head, folded his arms, and remained silent for a few minutes. In his person he is about five feet eight inches in height (he was taller), remarkably straight for his years, but his mind is more erect than his body. There is a good deal of placidity in his countenance, but nothing of striking dignity, and from his nose, I think that no man can sneer with more ease and eftect if he chooses." Some weeks after his return, calling in at a place in town then much frequented by lovers of antiquity and of the arts, he fell into discourse with a gentleman, a Mr. T., who possessed good taste and feeling enough to preserve the following minutes of the conversa- tion. It must ever be a source of keen regret that so many others who were honoured by his society did not prove them- selves equally worthy of it by preserving his remarks. " December the 6th, I happened to be in Mr. To\\^lley'3 study; about eleven o'clock Air. Burke and the EeverendDr. King came in to view Mr. Townley's fine collection of statues. Mr. Burke seemed highly pleased with the whole, particularly that of tlie Baian Homer. Having paid many just compliments to the taste of the collector, he entered into conversation with me in so easy and friendly a manner, that if I was charmed a few minutes before with the taste and judicious reflection of the scholar, I was not less de/.ighted 1787. DIALOGUE WITH A VISITOE. 267 witli the man. I shewed him an old manuscript copy of Homer (written I beh'eve in the tenth century) ; he read a few passages in it with the greatest fluency, and criticised Bome of the critics who had written on the father of im- mortal verse. He invited me to breakfast with him the next morning, without so much as knowing my name. I promised to do myself that honour. My name is Edmund Burke, said he, just as he was going out of the door, I live in Gerard Street, Soho. I called the next morning about nine ; it was excessively cold ; I was shewn into the drawing-room, and in a few minutes Mr. Burke entered, and shook me by the hand in the most friendly manner. " Mr. B. Have you been long out of Ireland, Sir ? T. Some years. Mr. B. I paid that country a visit last summer, for the purpose of seeing a sister, a widow (Mrs. French, I believe) ; I had not seen it for twenty years before. T. It is very much changed within the last twenty years. Mr. B. Very much for the better. T. A spirit of industry has per- vaded almost every quarter of the kingdom ; the morals of the people are improved, the country-gentlemen, in many parts, have relinquished the favourite amusements of the chase for the plough. Mr. B. Not as much as I could wish, but still more than I expected. As to agriculture, it may be called the eighth science. ' We may talk what we please,' says Cowley, ' of lilies and lions rampant, and spread eagles in fields d'or or d'argent, but if heraldry were guided by reason, a plough in a field arable would be the most noble and ancient arms.' T Very true. Sir ; but it is said that the physical situation of Ireland is not favourable to the progress of tillage. Mr. B. I have often heard so, but experience proves the contrary. I saw, and I saw it with pleasure, in my little tour through some parts of the south of Ireland, two or three mountains clothed with luxuriant grass, that in my time were scarcely covered with barren heath, and half starved briars. Breakfast was now brought in ; young Mr. Burke and Dr. King were present. T. There are many passages in the ancient laws of Ireland that evince that agriculture flourished at a very early period in that country. Mr. B. Do you mean in the Brehon laws 1 I wish they were translated. T. I wish so too ; I am sure the University of Dublin is very much obliged to you, Sir, for the fragments which you presented of the Sea- 268 LIFE OF BUKKE. 178". bright collection ; they are valuable, as thev contain many particulars that shed light on tlie manners and customs of the ancient Irish ; but life is short, and in some respect it would be a pity that a man of genius should waste his time in such pursuits. Mr. B. To set a man of genius down to such a task, would be to yoke a courser of the sun in a mud cart. No, no, one of your cool, plodding, half-burnt bricks of the creation would be the fittest person in the world for such studies. T. Colonel Vallancey has laboured hard in that mine. Mr. B. Yes, in that race he has carried off the prize of industry from all his competitors, and if he has done nothing more he has wakened a spirit of curiosity in that line, but he has built too much on etymology, and that is a very sandy foundation. Dr. King. Ireland was famed for piety and learning at a very early period. Mr. B. Bede says so, and several other writers. Dr. King. Can you speak Irish ? Mr. B. I could speak a little of it when I was a boy, and I can remember a few words and phrases still. Poetry was highly culti- vated by the ancient Irish ; some of their Kings were so smitten with the love of song as to exchange the sceptre for the harp. T. The bards were very much protected and encouraged, but having indulged too much in satire and ribaldry, they were rather dreaded than esteemed ; and at one time, the whole body was on the eve of being banished, if St. Columb-kill had not interfered. Mr. B. Sedulius was an excellent poet. T. Tes, his Latin poetry is very much admired. Mr. B. I read one of his hymns, that glowed with all the poet ; the spirit of it might be said to ascend like the spirit of a Christian martyr in the midst of flames, but I never could light on his works. T. JS'or I neither, but many of his verses are scattered through Colgan. Mr. B. Wherever they are scattered they will shine like stars. There was a poet that used to compose a little in his native language when I was a boy, I forget his name. T. Dignum, I suppose. Mr. B. Yes, yes ; he could neither read nor write, nor speak any language but his own. I have seen some of his effusions translated into English, but was assured, by judges, tliat they fell far short of the original, yet they contained some graces ' snatched beyond the reach of art.' I remember cne thought in an address to a friend ; the poet advises hiir to lose no time iu 1787. DIALOGUE WITH A VISITOR. 269 paying his addresses to a young lady, for that slie was of age, and, as a proof of it, * upon her cheek lie saw love's letter sealed with a damask rose.' Spenser, who was him- self a bard, says that tlie Irish poetry was sprinkled with r»iany pretty flowers. I wish they were collected in one •aosegay. T. Yes, Sir, but there is no encouragement. — Mr. B. No, not in this rust of the iron age. I wish, how- ever, that some able, industrious, and patient pen would give a history of that country ; it is much wanted. T. Great expectations were formed from Doctor Lelaud ; he had leisure, talents, and almost every opportunity. When. Lord Chesterfield was Viceroy of that kingdom, he was told that the Doctor intended to follow up a prospectus he had published on the subject of a voluminous history ; his lord- ship one day at levee applauded the Doctor's intentions, but requested that he would make it a pleasant one. Mr. B. Tour pleasant historians should be read with caution. Le- land promised a voluminous history, and so far he has kept his promise, but he has not done justice to all. T. It is said he had an eye to a mitre. Mr. B. JNIitres and coronets will dazzle, but the truth is he had an eye to his book- seller, and to be candid, he went over it with a heavy hand. T. He has scarce dipped into the earlier ages. Mr. B. He was no antiquary, but he might have said a little more on the subject. Hooker says, " the reason why first we do admire those things which are greatest, and secondly those things which are ancientest is, because the one is least distant from the infinite substance, the other from the infinite of Grod." Neither has he detailed with candour the feuds betwixt the houses of Desmond and Butler. T. The implacable hatred that existed betwixt the two is astonishing. Mr. B. Struggles for power. I remember an anecdote of one of the Desmonds, I don't know which, who happened to be severely wounded in an engagement with a party of the Butlers ; one of the latter threw him on his shoulders to carry him off in triumph, and as he passed along, taunt- ingly asked him, " Ah, Desmond, where are you now ?'* though quite feeble from the loss of blood, he collected all his expiring strength, and exclaimed, " AVhere am I ? I am where I ought to be, on the neck of my enemy." The conversation turned on poetry, which Mr. Burke called " the art of substantiating shadows, and of lending exist' 270 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1787. ence to nothing." He praised Milton for the judicious choice of bis epithets ; this led him to say a few words on the use and abuse of those flowery adjectives, as Pontanus calls them, and lamented that some pe^-son of taste did not collect a garland of them out of the English Poets, as Textor bad out of the Latin, which laid every classical scholar under great obligation to him, as he had plucked the fairest flowers that sipped Castalian dew." " Geography, he said, was an earthly subject, but a heavenly study." One of the company happened to men- tion some gentlemen who intended to promote discoveries in the interior parts of Africa. Mr. Burke said, tlie inten- tion was truly laudable ; " Africa," he said, " was worth exploriug ; it seemed as if nature, in some great convulsion or revolution of her empire, had fled to that quarter with all her treasures, some of which she had concealed in the bowels of the earth, but the surface exhibited such abund- ance and variety of the vegetable and animal race, that a few miles would enrich the conquests of natural history. Witness on the very shores of that continent — the cabbage tree, that towered into aU the sublimity of the pine, and the luxuriance of the spreading oak, and yet so tender that a few strokes of a sabre were sufficient to lay it prostrate on the earth. Africa was rightly calledthemother of monsters, for there was not a sufficient number of minor animals else- where to feed the huge beasts that ranged the forests in that country. He was persuaded the interiorwas healthy, civilized, and so fertile, that the reaper trod on the heels of the sower. But the thirst of European avarice and cruelty had raised a barrier round the coasts of that quarter, which prevented all communication with the inoffensive inhabitants." " The sight of a white face was sufficient to make tiieir curly locks stand on end. Death is natural to man, but slavery unna- tural ; and the moment you strip a man of his liberty, you strip him of aU his virtues; you convert his heart into a dark hole, in which aU the vices conspire against you." Towards the close of the conversation, he asked me if I was acquainted with Mr. Sheridan ; I answered, that I was very sorry I could not boast that honour. I shall have the plea- sure, said he, of introducing you to him, for he is one of the best natured men in the universe. He accompanied me, on my departure, to the door, and said that Dr. King 1787. VISIT OF ME. HAEDT. 271 was a very learned man, assured me that lie would be very happy to see me at Beaconsfield, " throw yourself into a coach," said he, " comedown and make my house your inn." Part of the time spent in Ireland was devoted to Lord Charlemont, whom he frequently termed " one of the chief ornaments of Dublin " To this nobleman he was in the habit of giving letters of introduction to friends of consideration proceeding thither on business or curiosity, among whom about this time were Mr. (afterwards Sir Philip) Francis, Mr. Nevill, Mr. Shippen an American traveller, and others. He also transmitted to his Lordship a bust of the late Mar- quis of Rockingham, with whom he had been intimate sinco 1752 when they became acquainted atfiome on their travels, It was a present from the Marchioness. Soon afterward, Mr. Burke on being elected a Member of the Eoyal Irish Academy, wrote him a letter of thanks as its President. His Lordship in return thought he could not do better for his particular friends bound to England, than to consign them to the care of one so celebrated, and so capable of affording instruction and amusement. Among these about this time was Hardy, a member of the Irish House of Commons and destined to be his Lordship's biographer, who although already known to Burke, seemed to feel the charm of his society and amiable qualities with addi- tional force during his visit. " He was," says that gentle- man, " social, hospitable, of pleasing access, and most agreeably communicative. One of the most satisfactory days perhaps that I ever spent in my life, was going with him tete a tete, from London to Beaconsfield. He stopped at Uxbridge whilst his horses were feeding, and happening to meet some gentlemen of I know not what Militia who appeared to be perfect strangers, he entered into discourse with them at the gateway of the inn His conversation at that moment completely exemplified what Johnson said of him, ' That you could not meet Burke under a shed without saying that he was an extraordinary man.' He was altogether uncommonly attractive and agreeable. Every object of the slightest notoriety as we passed along, wliether of natural or local histoiy, furnished him with abundant materials for conversation. The house at Uxbridge where the treaty was h.eld during Charles the First's time ; the beautiful and undulating grounds of Bulstrode formerly the residence of 272 I.TFE OF BUEKB. 17 87. Chancellor Joffries ; and Waller's tomb in Beaconsfield churchyard which before we went home we visited, and wdiose character as a gentleman, a poet, and an orator he shortly delineated but with exquisite felicity of genius, altogether gave an uncommon interest to his eloquence ; and although one-and-twenty years have elapsed since that day, I entertain the most vivid and pleasing recollection of it." Fond of good society and eminently fitted to adorn it, he was more especially pleased, like most men of taste, with that of intelligent women. He knew all that were of note, sought them out as a mark of respect ; furnished conversation, wit, criticism, or advice as occasion required ; and received in return that admiration of which the greatest may be proud, for to the honour of the sex it is yielded only to good as well as to eminent qualities. Among others with whom he was a favourite was Hannah More, who then figured largely in the literary and fashionable circles of the metropolis, and first become known to him in 1774 at the house of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Her sister wrote on the occasion — " Hannah has been introduced by Miss Reynolds to Edmund Burke (the sublime and beautiful Edmund Burke!)" At Mrs. Montague's, Mrs. Vesey's, David Grarrick's, ^Ir. Elliot's and many more of the agreeable houses which adorned the London of that day, their inter- course was renewed ; sometimes at her lodgings, at dinners, routes, or theatre, where once ensconced near the orchestra she found Burke, Sheridan, Dr. Warton, and Richard Burke, come to see the finished personation of Hamlet by Grarrick. When rejected at Bristol she wrote from London — •" Me- thinks I envy Burke that ' consciousness of his worth' which he must feel in considering liimself rejected only because his talents were a crime. But Providence has wisely contrived to render all its dispensations equal, by making those talents which set one man so much above anot^er of no esteem in the opinion of those who are without them." At Mrs. Vesey's she writes — "Mr. Burke came and sat next me for an hour. I complained of my false countrymen, and he re- peated my epitaph in Eedclifi" church. I was astonished that he had not forgotten it. The Bishop of Chester waa on my other hand and the conversation was kept up with great liveliness. I asked the Bishop whether he thought he sho'jld carry his bill against Sunday amu: of revolutionary republicanism, were at this moment fated to supply unintentionally on their part, some of the materials which Mr. Burke, with equal speed and dexterity, sharpened into its most powerful antidotes. To another correspondent, M. de Menonville, a relation of the Baron de Menou and a member of the National Assem- bly, who requested his opinion of their affairs towards the end of September 1789, he wrote early in the following month, plainly exhibiting the gradual development of his opinions and apprehensions, as events took a more decided turn.* " As you are pleased to think, that your splendid flame of liberty was first lighted up at my faint and glimmering taper, you have a right to call upon me for my sentiments on whatever relates to that subject * * You may easily believe, that I have had my eyes turned with great curiosity, and no small concernment, to the astonishing scene novi displayed in Prance. It has certainly given rise in my mind to many reflections, and to some emotions. These are natural and unavoidable ; but it would ill become me to be too ready in forming a positive opinion upon matters transacted in a country, with the correct political map of * Some portion of this communication but with several variations, appears in a letter addressed to M. Dupotit, a man of talents Hnd con- nexions who had visited him at Beaconsfield a year or two before, and is published in the correspondence. But as it is loiifjer and more elaborate, we may consider it an improved version of hints first thrown out here to another. 1789. LETTER TO M. DE MEKONVILLR. 207 whicli I must be very imperfectly acquainted. Things, indeed, have already happened so much beyond the scope ot" all speculation, that persons of infinitely more sagacity than I liave, ought to be ashamed of any thing like confi- dence in reasoning upon the operation of any principle, or the effect of any measure. It would become me least of all to be so confident, who ought at my time of life to have well learned the important lesson of self-distrust — a lesson of no small value in company with the best infoi*mation — but which alone can make any sort of amends for our not having learned other lessons so well as it was our business to learn them. * * Ton hope, Sir, that I think the Prench deserving of liberty. 1 certainly do. I certainly think that all men who desire it, deserve it. It is not the reward of our merit, or the acquisition of our industry. It is our inheritance. It is the birth-right of our species. We cannot forfeit onr right to it, but by what forfeits our title to the privileges of our kind, / mean the abuse or oblivion of our national faculties ; and a ferocious indocility, which makes us prompt to lorony and violence, destroys our social nature, and transforms us into something little better than a descrip- tion of wild beasts. To men so degraded, a state of strong restraint is a sort of necessary substitute for freedom ; since, bad as it is, it may deliver them in some measure from the worst of all slavery, that is, the despotism of their own blind and brutal passions. You have kindly said that you began to love freedom from your intercourse with me. Permit me then to continue our conversation, and to tell you what the freedom is that I love. It is not solitary, unconnected, individual, selfish liberty. It is social freedom. It is that state of things in which the liberty of no man, and no body of men, is in a condition to trespass on the liberty of any person, or any description of persons in societi/J'^ In a second communication to the same correspondent, he says — " With regard to the state of things in France, I am afraid that as matters appear to me at present, I cannot at all agree with you, until at least my information is as good as your's. I hope you do not think me weak enough to form my opinion of what is doing there from the represen- tations in newspapers, much less upon those of the news- papers of a country in which the true spirit of the several transactions cannot be generally known. As for me, I 208 LIFE OF BTJEKE. 1789, have read, and wil,li some attention, the authorized or rather equally authentic documents on this subject ; frora the first instructions to the representatives of the several orders, down to this time. What else I have read has been toy the greater part on the side of those who have a consider- able share in the formation and conduct of public measures. A great many of the most decisive events I conceive, are not disputed as facts though as usual there is some dispute about their causes and their tendencies. On comparing the wliole of fact, of public document, and of Avhat can be dis- cerned of the general temper of the French people, I per- fectly agree with you, that there is very little likelihood of the old government's regaining its former authority. Were the king to escape from his palace where he is now in reality a prisoner with his wife and almost his wliole family, to what place could he fly ? Every town in France is a Paris. I see no Avay by which a second revolution can be accom- plished The only chance seems to consist in the extreme instability of every species of power and the uncertainty of every kind of speculation." At the time this was written, few indeed could agree in opinion with the sagacious writer, of the evils attendant on the Eevolution. Yet after every allowance for the generous feelings of the moment in favour of a phantom which bore some resemblance to freedom, all considerate men must have been convinced, that the utter subversion of every institu- tion long establised in a State, can never under any circum- stances be justifiable or wise. Even material changes in the supreme authority, though perhaps sometimes necessary, are always dangerous. They must not be adopted but in the last extremity, and then managed only by the most delicate and experienced hands. Earthquakes and hurricanes pos- sibly produce good, but few considerate men like to be within the sphere of their operation. It is just so with revolutions. The good is often problematical. The Avay to it at least is through confusion and evil, a quagmire of moral instability — of over-turned laws, jn'operty, and connexions — in which wantonly to throw down every ancient land-mark, is wilfully to wander out of the road, to sink deeper as we proceed, and to plunge into difficulties which destroy every hope of attain- ing the dostinatinu in view. Such however was the effect of example that uersous in England disregarding the blea- 1790. DEATn OP HIS sisteh mbs. rEEXCH. 299 sings of the practical freedom tliey enjoyed, professed not only to admire the speculative reveries of France, but the wish to put some of the principal of them into practice. The delusion was widely spread and deeply rooted, — more general, than it is now easy or agreeable to believe ; nor did it with a few" even of our greatest men speedily pass away. A domestic affliction, about this time, detached his mind for a moment from contemplating public evils, to experience personally unfeigned private sorrow — a more vulnerable point of suffering, as even the most patriotic spirit must confess, to all men. This was the death of his sister, Mrs. French. A variety of private circumstances had tended to keep up little more than an epistolary communication during life, yet still with a hope fondly entertained by both, of spending the evening of their lives nearer to each other. Several letters addressed to her by members of Edmund's family may hereafter appear. Previousl}' to the meeting of Parliament in 1790, the pro- ceedings of the National Assembly of France seeming to rise in estimation in this country, drew from Mr. Burke, severe condemnation of the popular feeling ; terming it " a gross in- fatuation," "a tolerance of crime," " an absurd partiality to abstract follies and practical wickedness." Every arrival from France seemed more than to realize his worst anticipations. When informed of the opinions of Mr. Fox, with whom there had been some cessation of confidential intercourse for three years past, being opposed to his own, he expressed surprise and on one occasion said, " Fox has too much good nature not to like any thing that promises benefit to his fellow-men ; but in this mattei', his judgment must soon correct the errors of his disposition." Further iuformation made him less san- guine in this hope respecting his friend ; and the fear of open and direct disagreement induced him to resolve not volun- tarily to obtrude his sentiments on the qviestion to Parlia- ment, — not at least until compelled so to do by a sense of duty paramount to all private considerations. Such an occa- sion very soon called him forth. In two debates on the army estimates (5th and 9th of February, 1790,) Mr. Fox not only euk)gized the Eevolution in France generally, but was imprudent enough to specify some points of particular admiration — among others the total defection of the French military from theii' officers and 300 LTIE OF BUEKE. 1790 government. Colonel Phipps, aa a military man, and other members, reprobated these sentiments loudly as subversive of discipline and subordiuation. Mr. Burke, on the second occasion (9th February), expressing the highest admiration of the talents of his hon. friend, and the danger to oiir own country of giving the sanction of his name to such doc- trines, entered into an examination of the state of France, the principles, proceedings, and tendencies of the Revolu- tion ; coudemniug in bitter terms the incurable ignorance of the leaders, their folly, injustice, and wickedness, their pe- dantic theories, their abuse of elementary principles, and contrasted it with the English E-evolution, to which he coidd not find a point of resemblance. In England, nothing had been changed but what absolute necessity required. In France on the contrary, nothing whatever, not even the most necessary or praiseworthy institution was preserved. He hated the old despotism of France, and still more he hated the new. It was a plundering, ferocious, bloody, tyrannical democracy, without a single virtue to redeem its numerous crimes ; and so far from being as his hon. friend had inad- vertently said worthy of imitation, he would spend his last breath and the last drop of his blood — he would quit his best friends and join his worst enemies, to oppose the least tittle of such a spirit, or such an example, in England. This speech which contained no compliment to adminis- tration, but rather an adverse spirit, was nevertheless re- ceived by the members of that body and by a great majority of the House with great applause. Mr. Pitt was among the most conspicuous. He had been generously but incautiously led to express some opinion in favour of the struggle then going on ; but alarmed at its progress and aspect, he now appeared to wheel round to concur in the sentiments of Mr. Burke. No matter he said, how they had dift'ered on former points of policy ; he felt for him on that occasion the highest gratitude and reverence ; and not only the present genera- tion but the latest posterity would revere his name for the decided part he had that day taken. The reply of Mr. Fox was mild and conciliatory. He had ever, and did then, entertain the highest veneration for the judgment of his hon. friend. By him he had been insti'ucted more than by all other men and books put together. By him he bad been taught to love oi;r constitution; fiom him he 1790. DtSCOXXECTIOK WITH SHEBIDAX. 301 had acquired nearly all his political knowledge ; all certainly which Avas most essential, and which he most valued. " His speech on that day, some arguments and observations ex- cepted, was one of the wisest and most brilliant flights of oratory ever delivered in that House," but with all these admissions his opinions on the subject in question continued unshaken. A rejoinder from Mr. Burke expressed an equally complimentary and conciliatory spirit ; and the sub- ject, tender as it evidently was, would have dropped at least for the present without further consequences, had not the zeal of Mr, Sheridan in support of the new opinions, uiged him to charge his political associate as a deserter from his formerprinciples — an assailant of the basis of freedom itself — the advocate and apologist of despotism — the libeller of men struggling in the most glorious of all causes. The reply to these unmeasured censures, mingled indeed with some straggling compliments, was calm but decided. Such terms, Mr. Bui'ke said, might have been spared, if for no- thing more than as a sacrifice to the ghost of departed friend- ship. They were but a repetition of what was said by the reforming clubs and societies wdth which the hon. gentleman had lately become entangled, and for whose applause he had chosen to sacrifice his friend ; though he might in time find that the value of such praise was not worth the price at which it was purchased. Henceforward, he added, they were separated in politics for ever. This schism threatened such consequences to the interests of the party, that attempts were instantly made and re- peated two days afterwards, to heal it by explanations in presence of the Duke of Portland, Mr. Fox, and others of the chief members at Burlington House. They met at ten o'clock at night and debated the matter until three next morning, separating as they met, with irreconcileable dif- ferences of opinion. The display of talent on both sides is said to have been remarkable. Mr. Burke preserved his temper unrufiled, expressing amicable sentiments towards the advocate, but abhorrence of the cause he maintained ; and the impression as to services, powers, and opinions, proved so much in his favour upon the minds of those present, that Mr. Sheridan took oftence, and for tlie remainder of this session and the beginning of the next, ceased from his usual active support in Parliament. 302 LIFE or BUEKE. 1790. Some personal dislike prevailed between these distin- guished men ever afterwards, nor were they perhaps very cordial for some time before. Mr. Burke who always com- plimented his talents, did not for many reasons place equal confidence in his general conduct or principles; one reason for which was his alleged breach of political laith in intrigu- ing for one of the highest cabinet situations in the new arrangements consequent on the settling of the Eegency, to the exclusion of senior and higher claimants. It has been supposed also, that he was the cause of Mr. Fox with- drawing from him some political confidence ; and there were, it is said, other private sources of disagreement. The wit, as he rose higli in the private favour of an illustrious per- sonage, and ill weight with his party, felt some impatience of the pi^eponderance of Mr. Burke ; for he possessed none of the humility of the latter in tiie estimate of his own import- ance. With little of steady talent or qualification for office, he had more tlian his ambition ; and foi'getful of the disci- plined subordination of the old Whig school, aimed at vaidting to the head of that connexion over superior talents and longer services, though without private character, with- out serious hold on public confidence, and as was believed, without the diligence or punctuality necessary to conduct public business. After their disagreement, it was remarked, that he always sat silent in private company when Mr, Burke was a theme of praise with every one else. In Parlia- ment he spoke of him more than once, " as one for whose talents and personal virtue he entertained the highest esteem, veneration and regard ;" a compliment which did not pre- vent him making pointed and personal attacks on the object of it, but which Mr. Burke rarely deigned to regard. To his councils also, it has been said, that the subsequent quarrel of the former with Mr. Fox was in some degree owing. The zealous friends of Sheridan, blind to the violence of the political storm then in progress in France, and deeming perhaps that no public question whatever should be permitted to interfere with private connexion, began to tax tlieir inge- nuity for the cause of this unexpected disclaimer by Burke, and discovered at length that it must be jealovsy of bis talents and influence. Among others Dr. Parr, though an ardent admirer of Burke, was too staunch a Whig and Foxite to see his former pupil Sheridan thus unceremo- 1790. DISCO>"NECTION WITH SHERIDAX. 303 niously thrown off without administering to the self-love ol his friends by assigning some such cause. He wrote thus immediately after the quarrel. '* It is not merely French politics that produced this dispute ;— they might have been settled privately. No, no — there is jealousy lurking under- neath — ^_iealousy of Mr. Sheridan's eloquence ; — jealousy of his popularity ; — ^jealousy of his influence with Mr. Fox ; — jealousy perhaps of his connexion with the Prince." — Sug- gestions of this nature are easily made, and preclude a spe- cific I'eply. In the present instance the accusation was scarcely plausible. It is true as has been already said, that Mr. Burke believed he had sufiicient reasons for disliking the conduct of Sheridan, particularly since the agitation of the Eegency question. But it should likewise be stated that Mr. Fox participated fully in the same feelings ; and though they were not so openly exhibited by him in the first instance, and afterwards by the exigencies of politics were sometimes shrouded altogether, they did not the less cease to influence the mind of that statesman, as is known to his friends, even to the end of his life. Mr. Burke therefore, if actuated by displeasure towards the wit, did not stand alone in that feeling. The ostensible leader of the party joined him in it. As to jealousy in the common sense of the term, it was so wholly improbable that no one who understood their relative merits either in political science or in private character, would venture to place them in comparison. It is rarely that the greater man condescends to envy the less ; and during the whole of his career, nothing of this kind can be adduced against Burke who exhibited on many occa- sions a wholly contrary spirit. In fact the biographer of Sheridan, who discloses in his own private journal what he suppresses in the published life, expressly tells us — " But it was Burke chiefly that Shei'idan envied and hated * * * On Hastings' trial particularly it went to Sheridan's heart to see Burke in the place set apart for privy councillors, and himself excluded."* The same authority tells us he equally envied Fox. To dwell upon the failings of the eminent is never a pleasing employment, — nor should a breath of this kind go forth against Sheridan here, except for this charge, which • llemoirs, &c. of Thoma-; Hloore, by Lord John Russell, vol. ii. p. 18 S04 LIFE or BUEKE. 1790 ■when alive he was willing to countenance , and now, when vanity can no longer be gratified by the tale, is sometiuiea repeated. If any further ground be required for the dis- union witli Burke, let it be sought where perhaps it will bo most certainly found, in the totally dissimilar characters of the men. Their minds had been cast in a wholly different mould. Their habits of life were as diametrically opposed. Notiiing but the emergencies of politics could have kept such persons for twelve months together united by any tie resembling esteem or sincere friendship, when it is considered tliat one was re- h'gious, moral, temperate, principled, benevolent, laborious in public business, active and diligent in his private duties. Tlie other so remarkably deficient in these and other virtues calculated to fix solid esteem,* that his biographer has been able to produce few instances of either. If it be further added, that one w^as conscientious and punctual in the dis- charge of his obligations to society, the other singularly reckless of the misery and disrepute accruing to himself and others from their constant violation ; — that one in the per- formance of his public functions was unaftected and in the estimate of his own importance commonly unassuming ; the other fond of display, sometimes resorting to trick and finesse to increase vulgar admiration of his powers ; that one drew upon his purse and influence to forward the views of unfriended merit ; while the other from incorrigible negli- gence is believed to have disgusted or consigned to obscurity and distress many promising claimants to dramatic litera- ture : — if these and many minor peculiarities be contrasted, there may be found perhaps very ample grounds for jealousy, but proceeding from quite the opposite quarter to that which the passage from Dr. Parr would insinuate. Another part of the same letter gives a lively picture of the agitation occasioned by this dispute among the friends of opposition. " The ferment and alarm are universal, and something must be done ; for it is a conflagration in which • Mr. Burke frequently expressed dislike to Sheridan's jests in private society against religion. A favorite subject for ridicule was the doctrine of the Trinity : which, having become the subject of his ribaldry at the table of Lord Crewe, gave offence to that Nobleman and his Lady, wht» from tliis and other causes found it ad7isable to decline, as they told Mr. Haviland Burke, giving him furtli^" invitations to dine, long; before tbey deemed it expedient to interdict him their bouse altogether. 1790. ONE or nis coheespoxdexts. 305 they must perish, unless it be stopped. All the papers are with Burke, — even the Foxite papers which I have seen. I know his violence, and temper, and obstinacy of opinion, and — but I will not speak out,ybr I tJiink 1dm the greatest man upon the earth. * * He is uncorriipt, I know, but his passions are quite headstrong." In the midst of heated discussions occasioned by this rup- ture at home, Mr. Burke was taken to task foi- his doctrines from a more distant quarter by a gentleman of whom, though their acquaintance was not of long standing, he entertained a fovourable opinion. Mr. Mercer, who in venturing to argue this question only flourished the sword of Harlequin against the armour of Achilles was a man who having successfully accomplished the common business of life, that of making money, believed himself also qualified to make, or at least to judge of and to explain, the laws which influence and bind together a nation. Springing from an humble condition in life, he became after various changes, Captain and general merchant in the East Indies, where in twenty years he accumulated reputably a fortune of more than sixty thousand pounds. With this and the esteem of his acquaintance, among whom was Lord Macartney, Grovernor of Madras, he returned in 1787, to spend the remainder of life in ease and honour in his native spot, Newry, in Ireland. He possessed a good understand- ing, an inquiring mind, had read much, and evinced that energy of character in maintaining opinions once formed, common to self-educated men. His spirit and cast of mind will appear from the following inscription on a plate of gold, first suspended in the cabin of his ship, and then transferred totlie dining-room of his residence in Arno's vale — " Hail ! Independence ; hail ! Heav'n's next best g;ift To that of life, and an immortal soul, The life of life ! tliat to the banquet high, And sober meal gives t;iste." In England, he eagerly sought out Burke ; proud of tbe name, principles, and acquirements of so distinguished a coun- tryman. It would not be necessary however to say anytliing of him here otherwise than as forming a specimen of that numerous class who, looking only at a few of the leading cha- racteristics of public men, deem them bound irrevocably to certain principles, which, whether working well or ill, must 30G LIFE OF BTJEKE. 1790. in their estimate be carried out. Thus, be could not conceive Hberty however fashioned or exercised to be bad ; and most of all wondered that it should find an opponent in Mr. Burke. He wrote therefore for an explanation on this point from one — * celebrated for the clearness of his bead, and the philan- thropy of his heart." The reply exhibits the usual abibty of the writer in which the mistakes of his correspondent are quietly but irresistibly put down. Such an opponent was soon disposed of. But there were others of more weight and information, and possessed of wider views, whom it was necessary if possible to convince. J\mong these was his old friend Mr. Philip Francis, who had become stiU more intimate by supplying information in the prosecution of Hastings. Burke had already made large progress in committing his thoughts to paper, and even begun to stamp tbem witb the authority of the press ; two proof sheets being sent to Francis, who had previously seen part of the manuscript, for bis opinion. His reply, of the same date as the letter of Mercer ( 19 February, 1790) gives the work unqualified condemnation. No persuasion addressed to his fame, station in the House of Commons, or as Privy Councillor was left untried to suppress its publication. He terms the notice of the French queen pure foppery — any altercation with Dr. Price or others, for altercation there must be — disgraceful. — " The mischief you are going to do yourself is to my apprehension palpable. It is visible. It will be audible. I snufi" it in the wind. I taste it already. I feel it in every sense ; and so mil you hereafter." Conclud- ing with the cordial anathema of a thoroughly vexed friend — " I wish you were at the devil for giving me all this trouble!" To this characteristic epistle the two Burkes father and son, replied. The latter most truly says,- — and it should not be for- gotten in estimating the character ofthe former — -" My father's opinions are never hastily adopted; and even those ideas which have often appeared tome only the effects of momentary heat, or casual impression,! have afterwards found beyond thepossi- bnity of doubt to be the result of systematic meditation, per- haps of years ; or else if adopted on the spur ofthe occasion, yet formed upon the conclusions of long and philosophical experience and supported by no trifling depth of thought." He adds with fibal aduiiration — " Are you so little conver- sant with my father as to fee no deference for his judg« 1790. CORPORATION k^sJ) TEST ACTS. 307 ment, or to mistake the warmth of his manner for the heat of his mind ? Do I not know my father at this time of day ? I tell you, his folly is wiser than the wisdom of the common herd of able men." His father's answer is calm, friendly, and more at length. He had sat up rather late at Carlton-house, liad found the letter on his table on his return, and wrote without having slept — is sorry still to find what he knew before that they " differed only in every thing ;" — pro- ceeds to reply to his observations ; and states that the looseness of style of which his correspondent complained appertained to the epistolary mode of communication. He had previously it appears, written to Francis that a scheme shown to him by that gentleman for the establishment of a general bank in Trance had no solid prospect of success. The next avowed difference of opinion of Mr. Burke with Op- position, was on the repeal of the Corporation and Test Acts, moved by Mr. Fox on the 2nd of March ; but it seemed rather opposition as to times and circumstances, than from principle. In the course of it he warmly defended his right honourable friend, the mover, from insinuations thrown out against his enterprising character should he come into power, by Mr. Pitt. — " He was surprised that the Chancellor of the Exche- quer should think ill of a friend of the dissenters, — more especially when it was remembered that a former minister of this country — a man of brilliant talents and acknowledged abilities — who had directed the government with great glory- to its national character, and great safety to the constitution in church and state — a man whom he believed the right honourable gentleman would not think lightly of — he meant the Earl of Chatham — had been considered an especial pro- tector of the dissenters. That Noble Lord had gone so far as to tell the House of Peers, in reply to an accusation of Dr. Drummond, Archbishop of York, of the pastors of the dissenters being ' men of close ambition.' ' They are so, my Lords ; and their ambition is to keep close to the college of fishermen, not of cardinals ; to the doctrine of inspired apostles, not to the degrees of interested and aspiring bishops. They contend for a spiritual creed and spiritual worship. We have a Calvinistic creed, a popish liturgy, and an Arminian clergy.' Thus his lordship selected the worst names of other religions to apply to our cluirch and liturgy. " Had the present question," he continued, " been brought 308 LIFE OF BTJRKF. 17i)0. on ten years sooner, he himself would have felt bound to vote in the affirmative ; but such doubts had since arisen ia his mind, that when the same tiling was moved in 1787 and 1789 (by Mr. Beaufoy), extremely unwilling to vote against it, yet not satisfied that he was right in voting for it, he quitted the House without voting at all. At the present moment, he thought the repeal more particularly inexpe- dient — there was a wild spirit of innovation abroad, which required not indulgence but restraint." Whether from the efl:ect of this speech, which embraced many details of the hostile spirit of dissenters to the church, or the exertions ot Mr. Pitt, or the general alarm in the country, this question which in the preceding session received a faint negative from no more than 20, was now smothered by a majority of 189. In the general abuse soon afterwards poured upon him, many pages were written to prove his inconsistency in thus opposing a measure formerly supported with all his powers. On the other hand nearly as many pages were employed to defend him from the charge on the ground that the dissenters of 1790 being busy meddling politicians, whose aim was the possession of political power rather than religious freedom, he was justified in denying to them what he had wished to concede to the conscientious body who solicited his support in 1772. This attack Kke many others, arose from misin- formation ; the defence therefore was unnecessarv. He did not advocate the repeal of the test act in 1772* for the simple reason that no such repeal was proposed. The facts of the matter were these : — At the period in question the dissenting ministers applied for an enlargement of the tole- ration act, or for a repeal of the clause which required subscription to the articles as a condition of enjoying the benefits of that act. This claim — and this alone— he sup- ported ; as he continued to do in 1773 and again in 1779 when it was conceded ; but at neither of those periods was application made for the repeal of the test act. The other chief measures in which he took part, were in voting an increase of income to the Speaker of the House of Commons, paying in the course of his speech several compliments to Mr. Addington ; on the claim of the Duke of Athol for certain rights in the Isle of Man ; on the ..iiftrrel with Spain respecting Nootka Sound, his opinion being strongly in favour of accommodation, for that " as we I 1790. BEFOEM. — GEllABD HAMTLTOX. 309 never ought to go to war for a profitable wrong, so we ought never to go to war for an unprofitable right ;" on a censure passed on Major Scott for a libel on the House ; and on two resolutions of the managers of the impeachment moved by himself, which were to persevere in the trial generally; while for the sake of expedition in deciding it, they we're to select only the more important charges for adjudication. He likewise opposed a motion by Mr. Flood for parliamentarv reform, which produced a very candid confession from Mr. Fox, that though lie thought such a measure advisable, tlie country at large did not seem to be of the same opinion. A jest of Burke on this question widely disseminated in private society, threw much ridicule upon the enthusiasts in this cause. A new party of Reformers, he said, had arisen stiK more pm-e in their creed than the rest, who deemed annual parliaments not sufficiently frequent, and quoted in support of their doctrine, the latter words of the Statute of Edward III., that " a parliament shall be holden every year once, and more often if need ie." How to designate these gentlemen from their less orthodox associates he knew not, except indeed their tenets furnished the hint, and they be known as the Oftener-f -need-he' s. A proposition through the medium of common friends, was made to him about this period by his former acquaint- ance Gerard Hamilton, to renew that intimacy which had so long suftered estrangement ; but as may be supposed from the indignant feelings formerly expressed, he declined. He had told Mr. Flood at the time, there was " an eternal separation" between them,^ — that " he would not keep a memorial of such a person about him," and possibly the recollection of some random sarcasms, which Hamilton, though he always did justice to his uncommon powers, had occasionally let off against his party and himself, might have tended to make him keep his word. The reply made to the communi- cation was, that without entertaining the slightest resentful or unfriendly feeling toward Mr. Hamilton, there were several circumstances in their connexion and separation and long subsequent alienation, which would prevent his enjoy- ing the same pleasure as formerly in his society ; and therefore a renewal of intimacy might not be satisfactory to either. 810 1790. CHAPTEE XI. Publication of Rf flections on the RevoVntion in France — Testimonies in its favour — Reply of Burke to the Universities of Dublin and Oxford, and to Mr. Cumberland — Thomas Paine — Character of Henry IV. of France — Letter to a Member of the National Assembly — Rupture with Mr. Fox— Jury Bill of 1791 — Parliamentary business— Anecdotes. As early certainly as September, 1789, Mr. Burke fixing liis thoughts stedfastly on the great convulsion proceeding in a neighbouring country, and willing to state them fully to the world, as well as to enable the reflecting part of man- kind to think more justly of the event itself, had decided on their publication. This task was begun and carried on with his wonted ai'dour and disregard of labour. We have seen by the discussion with Francis, that some progress had been made in printing ; and alluding to the anxious emotions to which it gave rise says in a letter to Lord Charlemont of the 25tli May, " I have been at once much occupied and much agitated with my employment." The elements of the work, for months floating in his mind, or in some form or another committed to paper, had been collected, re-written, enlarged, amended, and re-modelled to the form in which he had de- termined to publish — that of a letter to the French gentle- man who had before consulted him on the subject. The whole was polished with extraurd nary care, more than a dozen of revises being thrown ofl' and destroyed according to Dodsley's account, before the writer could please himself. It was set ofi" with every attraction of the highest style of eloquence of which the English language is susceptible, and of the most vivid and striking imagery in the whole compass of English prose. It was impressed on the judg- ment by acute reasoning, by great penetration into the motives of human action, by maxims of the most sound and practical wisdom, by expositions of the impracticable nature of the new government, and of the evil or mistaken designs of its framers. Nothing, which his genius, his knowledge, or his observation could supply, was omitted to give popularity to the " Reflections on the Eevolution in France." In the beginning of November 1790, this celebrated work made its appearance, and a French translation, by his friend M. Dupont, quickly spread its reputation over Europe. The 1790. REFLECTlOJfS OK TEE FEEKCH liEVOLTTTIOIf. 311 book proved one of the remarkable literary events of the century ; for it may be doubted whether any previous poli- tical production ever excited so much attention and discus- sion, so much praise from one party, and animadversion from another ; but ultimately among the great majority of persons, such general conviction of the correctness of his views, as to fully succeed in turning the stream of public opinion from the channel in which it had hitherto flowed. The circulation of the work corresponded with its fame. Eichard Burke writing to Shackleton, November 8th, 1790, says " Seven thousand copies have been sold in six days, and to all a])Dearance as many more will be soon demanded." Within the first year above 19,000 copies were sold in England, and about 13,000 in France, the whole number of English copies disposed of within a few years being esti- mated at more than 30,000 — ^and this at a time when there was not a fourth of the demand for books of any kind that there is at present. Some experienced booksellers have said that the sale was greater than that of any preceding book whatever of the same price. The interest which it excited did not cease with the moment ; it was sought after then and since by persons little prone to political discussion for the wisdom of the lessons it taught ; by many for its literary beauties ; by many in order to retrace the fearful and extra- ordinary events there in great measure foretold ; and it will ever be a source of interest to the statesman, and of admira- tion to the man of taste and genius. No analysis of this or any other of the wri1 ings of this eloquent man, is intended here. In the instance before us, it would be particularly unnecessary. Almo'^t every one who pretends to read at all, has read the work. To such, a disquisition would bo at least meagre and unsatisfactory. To him who has not, it would impart no means of appreciating the force and beauty of the original ; for of Burke it may be said, as Johnson re- marked of Shakspeare, that to attempt to recommend him by select extracts, would be but to follow the example of the pedant in Hierccles, who when he otiered his house to sale, carried a brick m his pocket as a specimen. Many of the passages in it form matter of continual quotation for their eloquence ; and few of its pages but contain something pro- found in remark, novel in thought, and ingenious and beau- ciful in illustration. The peroration, though in general but 812 XIFE or BUKKE. 1790 little quoted or noticed, is not the least striking; passage ; nor will the prophetic remarlc on the vicissitudes likely to be experienced in the forms of the new government, be lightly passed over by the reader. " I have told you candidly," he says to his correspondent, "my sentiments. I think they are not likely to alter yours. I do not know that they ought. You are young ; you cannot guide, but must follow the fortune of your country. But hereafter they may be of some use to you, in some future form ivhich your commonwealth may take. In the present it can hardly remain ; hut before its final settlement it may he ohliged to pass, as one of our poets says, ' through great varie- ties of untried heing^ and in all its transmigrations to he purified hy fire and hlood. " I have little to recommend my opinions but long obser- vation and much impartiality. They come from one who lias been no tool of power, no flatterer of greatness ; and who in his last acts does not wish to belie the tenour of his life. They come from one almost the whole of whose public ex- ertion has been a struggle for the liberty of others ; from one in whose breast no anger durable or veliement has ever been kindled but by what he considered as tyranny ; and who snatches from his share in the endeavours which are used by good men to discredit opulent oppression,* the hours he has employed on your affairs ; and who in so doing persuades himself he has not departed from his usual office. They come from one who desires honours, distinctions, and emoluments, but little ; and who expects them not at all ; who has no contempt for fame, and no fear of obloquy ; who shuns contention though he will hazard an opinion ; from one who wishes to preserve consistency ; but who would pre- serve consistency by varying his means to secure the luiity of his end ; and Avhen the vessel in which he sails may bo endangered by overloading it upon one side, is desirous of carrying the small weight of his reasons to that which may preserve its equipoise." The testimonies of approval which flowed in from every quarter soon after the aj)pearance of the book, evinced not merely admiration of his eloquence and literary talents ; but his power over the question in discussion. No writer * In allusion to the prosecution of Mr. Hastings. 1790. HONOUES PAID TO THE "eEFLECTIOTTS." 313 probably "was ever before so complimented. The Sovereigns subsequently assembled at PilnitZj particularly the Emperor of Grermany, transmitted through one of his ministers with whom Mr. Burke had some future correspondence, a tribute of marked approbation. The French Princes did the same by means of his son and Mons. Cazales. Catherine of Eussia directed her Ambassador, Count de Wo- ronzow, to communicate in her name sentiments of a similar nature. His Majesty, George III., not only gave the work an attentive perusal, but had a number of copies ele- gantly bound, which he distributed among his friends with the remark, that it " was a book which every gentleman ought to read." Stanislaus, the unfortunate King of Poland to whom Burke was personally known, sent him his likeness in a gold medal, with a letter in English, deeming that language, as he said, the most copious and energetic to con- vey the high sense which he entertained of his patriotism and talents. The reply of the author stated in expressive terms that so high a mark of esteem might be supposed to awaken his vanity, but it tended rather to excite his veneration and esteem for the character of a Prince whom he had long admired. He possessed, he said, no cabinet of medals, but had he the richest in the imiverse, he was persuaded he would be at a loss in what illustrious series to place that of his Majesty :— it must be placed the first of a new one. He praised the revolution in Poland, the origin and progress of which he ascribed to the King ; " you," said he, " that may be truly called the father, and not the proprietor of your people." A more remarkable honour and one hithertowholly unknown or unnoticed in England, was a translation of this work by 'the unfortunate Louis XVI. whose pen had been early in life employed in givingaFrench version of some of the first volumes of Gribbon's History. Writing from Brussels in August 1791, young Burke says to bis father — " There is but one man in the secret confidence and management (of the French party) that is M. de la Quenille. He seems to be perfectly sound- headed, perfectly right in all his ideas. He was somewhat an older intimate of the King's infancy, which has subsisted in a close friendship ever since. He praises him in every respect, except that of adherence to his resolutions which ha B14 LIFE or BUEKE. 1790. says are always right on all points. He tells me the poor man has translated your hookjrom end to end.'"* The praises of the learned, however, preceded, in the order of time, the approval of the great. The first tribute of this kind which he received from a public body, came very appropriately, as the nurse of his genius, from Dublin. In December, 1790, on a motion of the Provost (the head of the University) the honorary degree of LL.D. was unani- mously conferred upon him in fuU convocation, and an ad- dress afterwards presented in a gold box, to express their sense of his services — " as the powerful advocate of the constitution, the friend of public order, virtue, and the liappiness of mankind ; and in testimony of the high re- spect entertained by the University for the various endow- ments of his capacious mind, and for his superior talents and abilities." An address from the resident graduates of Oxford was about the same time, presented to him through Mr. Wind- ham, which spoke the sentiments of nearly the whole of the university, though a temporary cabal or misunderstand- ing among the heads of houses, prevented the diploma de- gree of LL.D. being conferred upon a writer whose philoso- * That the unfortunate Monarch was a ^ood Eng'lish scholar, quite com- petent to the performance, appears from other authorities. Unwilling', it appears, to be known, he thoug-ht proper to print his share of Gibbon under another name, " Le troiseme ouvrage de (Louis XVI) est L'Histoire de la decadence de I'Empire Romain par Gibbon. Apres on avoir traduit cinq volumes, M. le Dauphin, ne voulant pas etre connu, charges M. le Clerc de Sept-Chenes son lecteur du Cabinet, de les faire imprimer sous son nom. M. le Cierc Sept-Chenes ayant prie M.le Garde des-sceaux de lui donner un censeur, I'ouvrag-e fut envoye a I'Abbe Aubert qui le rendit avec un ap- probation motivee et disting-uee. Environ deux ans apres, M. le Comte de Verg-ennes, Ministre des affaires etrang'eres, fait deniander le censeur de I'ouvrag-e ; I'Abbe Aubert se rend chez le ministre, qui en lui remettant un exemplaire relie en maroquin rouge et dore sur tranche lui dit — * Je siiis charge par le traducteur de vous remettre cet exemplaire pour vous re- mercier de I'examen que vous avez prisla peine de faire de sa traduction et de I'approbation que vous lui avei donnee.' Sur I'observation du censeur que M. le Clerc de Sept-chenes aurait per se dispenser de la magnifi- cence de la reliure, M. le Vergennes lui dit — ' Ce'st M. le Dauphine qui est veritable traducteur, et (]ui m'a charge de vous faii'e ce cadeau en son nom.' ■' " Nous tenons cette anecdote de I'Abbe Aubnrt lui-meme." — Extrait du Roi Martyr ou Esqnisse du Portrait de Louis XVI. par A. J. D. B Dt Mo idler es, Faritf 1815. 1790. OPINIONS or the " keflections." 315 pbical essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, forms a volume of occasional reference in their seat of learning, and whose eloquence in this instance tended to preserve and to honour that and all similar establishments. The Archbishop of Aix, and others of the dignified clergy of France, wrote letters expressive of their obligations and acknowledgments " that the first orator of England had become their defender." Nearly all the superior members of our own church, the great body of the nobility, the most eminent statesmen with few exceptions, and several of the chief men of letters, pronounced, him the saviour, not merely of the English, but of all established governments. One of those who from his heart, principles, and good sense, he thought best qualified to form an opinion, was Sir Joshua Reynolds ; to him therefore the work liad been submitted in manuscript, and it received his unqualified approval. Gib- bon proved particularly warm in his applause. " I thirst," said he, a short time before he saw the volume, " for Mr. Burke's Reflections on the Revolution in France." After perusing it, he wrote on two occasions — " Bui'ke's book is a most admirable medicine against the French disease. I admire his eloquence ; I approve his politics ; I adore his chivalry ; and I can almost forgive his reverence for church establishments." In Wilberforce's diary we find (22d November) — " Went to Wimbledon (to dine with Mr. Pitt) Dundas, Lord Chatham, Pitt, Grenville, Ryder. Much talk about Burke's book. Lord Chatham, Pitt, and I seemed to agree — contra Grenville and Ryder." " 26. Read Burke's book for three hours ;" and alludes to the perusal on other occa- sions. Horace Walpole in reference to it thus writes of the Queen of France — " Had I ]Mr. Burke's powers I would have described her in his words — I like ' the swords leaping out of their scabbards' ; in short I am not more charmed with his wit and eloquence than with his enthusiasm. * * * It paints her exactly as she appeared to me the first time I saw her when Dauphiness. She was going after the late King to chapel, and shot through the room like an aerial being, all brightness and grace, and without seeming to touch the earth.'' Burke had sent him a copy of the work ; the reply was that " Tinless he wrote as well he could not sulficiently express his admiration." Again he writes of this work — " I am not 316 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1790. surprised at Mr. 'Fox and Mr. Fitzpatrick for disliking the exterit of Mr. Burke's notions. I should be mortified if the former did not admire the composition, and should readily distrust my own judgment if the latter and Mr. Hare did not keep me in countenance. The last I have been told, says, that though he would submit to Mr. Fox in every thing else, he cannot give up Mr. Burke's book." Miss Burney likewise promised by the influence of this volume, to return to her allegiance to her former idol — "I own myself entirely of Mrs. Montague's opinion about Mr. Burke's book. It is the noblest, deepest, most animated, and exalted work that 1 think I have ever read. * * * How can man with all his inequalities be so little resembling to himself at different periods as this man ? He is always a prodigy ; — in fascinating talents and incomprehensible in- consistencies. When I read however, such a book as this, I am apt to imagine the whole of such a being must be right as well as the parts, and that the time may come when the mists that obscure the motives aud incentives to those actions and proceedings which seem incongruous, may be chased away." " I conceive," writes Cumberland, who though seldom given to eulogize a brother author, was on this occasion surprised into an express letter of congratulation the first week after the publication, a proof at least of his critical judgment — " there is not to be found in all the writings of my day, perhaps I may say not in the English language, so brilliant a cluster of fine and beautiful passages as we are presented Avith in Edmund Burke's inimitable tract on the French Revolution. It is most highly coloured and most richly ornamented, but there is elegance in its splendour, and dignity in its magnificence. The orator demands atten- tion ill a loud and lofty tone, but his voice never loses ita melody, nor its periods their sweetness. When he has roused us with the thunder of his eloquence, he can at once, Timotheus-like, choose a melancholy tlieme, and melt us into pity : there is grace in his anger ; for he can inveigh without vulgarity ; he can modulate the strongest burst of passion, for even in his madness there is music." Several eulogies as strong as that of Cumberland might be transcribed, but one delivered soon afterward by a pro- fessed political opponent, the late Lord (then Mr.) Erskine, is tot just and characteristic to be omitted. " I shall take I i. 1790. 0PINI0>"3 OF THE " EEFLECTIONS." 317 care to put Mr. Burke's work on tlie Frencli Eevohition, into the hands of those whose pruiciples are left to my formation. I shall take care that they have the advan- tage of doing, in the regular progression of youthful stu- dies, what I have done even in the short intervals of [ laborious life ; that they shall transcribe, with their own hands, from all the works of this most extraordinary person, and from the last among the rest, the soundest truths of religion ; the justest principles of morals, inculcated and rendered delightful by the most sublime eloquence ; the highest reach of philosophy brought down to the level of common minds by the most captivating taste ; the most enlightened observations on history and the most copious collection of useful maxims from the experience of common life ; and separate for themselves the good from the bad." Another writer* possessed himself of no small claims to elo- quence speaks of the execution of the work in nearly a similar style. But its doctrines were as little to his taste as to tliat of the great advocate just mentioned, both being infected by the political epidemic of the day. — " These are the views which distinguish the political writings of Mr. Burke, an author whose splendid and unequalled powers have given vogue and fashion to certain tenets, which from any other pen would have appeared abject and contemptible. In the field of reason the encounter would not be difficult, but ■who can withstand the fascination and magic of his elo- quence ? The excursions of his genius are immense ! His imperial fancy has laid all nature under tribute, and has collected riches from every scene of the creation, and every walk of art. His eulogium on the Queen of France is a master-piece of pathetic composition ; so select are its images, so fraught with tenderness and so rich with colours ' dipt in heaven,' that he who can read it without rapture may have merit as a reasoner, but must resign all pretensions to taste and sensibility. His imagination is in truth only too prolific : a world of itself, where he dwells in tlie midst of chimerical alarms, is the dupe of his own enchantuients, andstarts, like Prospero, at the spectres of his own creation." Dr. Beattiewho as far as opinions went, had always hitlierto been opposed to him in politics, but who knew the soundness • The Rev. Robert llall — " Apology for the Freedom of the Press.* 318 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1790. of his principles when any real danger threatened the state, thus writes, April 25, 1790, six months before the publica- tion. — " I wish Mr. Burke would publish what he intended on the present state of France. He is a man of principle, und a friend to religion, to law, and to monarchy, as well as to liberty." One of the suspected authors of Junius's Letters (Hugh Boyd) in allusion to this production of his old ac- quaintance, and the event it was meant to reprobate, thus whites — " But to turn to the more pleasing view, where the finest talents combat on tlie side of truth. We have seen their triumph in the noblest cause ; in the cause of religion, law, and order : in defence of every sacred post and barrier, essential not alone to the security and happiness of mankind, but to the very existence of society. The sublime compre- hension of that penetrating genius (Mr Burke), which in the early dawn of democracy saw the destructive principle of general conflagration that was to flame in its meridian, gave thealarm to the world; and his warning voice was heard. The baleful influence, threatening every confine of humanity, "was averted ; and the portentous meteor, consumed in its own fires, passes away for ever." Even Mr. Francis was softened — not won — for dissent still overpowered feelings of admiration. — " It has not yet been in my power," he writes hurriedly, November 3rd, " to read more than a third of your book. I must taste it deliberately. The flavour is too high ; the wine is too rich. I cannot take a draught of it." And while questioning the accuracy of Burke's deductions from French history, he ventures to find fault again with his style in a way which we should scarcely expect from the most fastidious critic. — " Once for all, I wish you would let me teach you to vrr'ite English. To me "who am to read everything you write it would be a great comfort, and to you no sort of disparagement. Why will you not allow yourself to be persuaded that polish is mate- rial to preservation ?" This was followed by one from Lord John Cavendish (Nov. 14) who says — " All men of sense must I think, feel obliged to you for showing in so forcible a manner that confusion is not the road to reformation." On the other hand, the book was reprobated as assailing the foundations of liberty, by a party bold, numerous, and able, at the head of which, or countenancing it, stood Mr. Fox. His censures were not merely unqualified, but delivered 1790. OPINIONS OF TVY " EEFLrCTIONS." 319 as he himself avowed, in all companies whenever the work became a subject of discussion. Some montlis afterwards he termed it in the House of Commons, with more of pique, or less of judgment, than could be expected from such a man, " a libel on all free governments," and, " he disliked it as much as any of Mr. Paine' s ;" these remarks were not very delicate op conciliatory as applied to the pro- ductions of a friend ; but they verified a remark of Burke at a future period, that " the French Revolution had not merely shaken all the thrones of Europe, but shaken his friend Fox's heart and understanding out of their right places." The dissentient party embraced besides many Members of Opposition, some philosophers, a large body of second-rate literary men, some clergymen, many lawyers, many dissenting ministers, and members of the profession of physic — all there- fore belonging to the educated classes ; but the great majority without claim to practical acquaintance with politics ; men deep in speculation and rii books, but wholly ignorant of the workings of governments ; who knew nothing of human nature in great and untried emergencies such as the state of France then exhibited ; who mistook warm feelings and honest prejudices for sound principles ; some who with good intentions toward mankind would have committed the grossest errors in reducing them to practice ; and many whose views upon the constitution of the country were more than questionable. By this body Mr. Burke and his volume* were assailed with a degree of animosity unprecedented even in the political warfare of England, and so perseveringly continued as to be still occasionally heard. Is^o pains were spared to produce this effect. Every epithet of abuse in the language, as may be seen * A celebrated phrase was bruited about in every form of speech and writino^, in order to excite popular indig-uation. In speaking of the destruction of the nobility and clergy, he said that alonir with these, its natural protectors, learning would be " trodden down under the hoofs of a swinish multitude." The expression though plainly figurative, was tortured to mean that he actually thought the people no better than Bwine ; yet all other impassioned writers have dealt in the same license of language, without reproach or even remark ; among which the reader will immediately recollect " the common dung o' the soil," and many others as strong, applied to the mass of mankind. Even Republican Milton usei? the words " herd confused," " mi?cellaneous rabble,'' applied to the multitude ; so little respect was there in the mind of that sturdy opponent •f monarchy for the " majesty of the people." 320 LIFE 05 BUE^O). 1790. by the curious reader in the ephemeral WTitings of that day, was applied to him ; and every action or expression of his life that could be tortured into sinister meaning, was raked up in order to show his inconsistency. Yet after all they proved so few and frivolous as not to liave been thought worth repeating ; and thus he " whose whole life had been a struggle for the liberty of others," was reviled as the enemy of all liberty. The truth was that their and his ideas of liberty were, and always had been, different. They chose to become angry because a man so long and generally celebrated as its advocate, should hesitate to give his sanc- tion to anything which assumed the name however question- able might be the substance. They made no allowance for having mistaken him, or for his not agreeing with them in the detail. Because he differed in opinion with them on this point, it was inferred erroneously however, that he must differ from himself. They thouglit that liberty, no matter in what shape or garb it came, or how accompanied, or by whatever qualities or characteristics distinguished, must necessarily be good, as his correspondent Mr. Mercer had expressly said. They loooked chiefly to the abstract idea of the thing, not to the form it assumed, or the effects it produced. Mr. Burke, on the contrary, would not allow the term liberty to be applicable to the mad fury of the populace in a course stained by incessant violence and bloodshed ; which inflicted or permitted the most grinding tyranny and injustice on persons and property ; which was in itself, a crude and untried theory, unsanctioned by reason and undisciplined by law ; at variance with the experience of mankind, and with the ancient and reasonable habits and institutions of the country itself. The liberty decreed by the National Assembly he considered a mockery.— Liberty, no matter how plausible the form or high-sounding the pretension, was in his opinion, liberty only, when it secured equal civil rights, equal justice and protection, equal social enjoyments and privileges, to all members of the community. Sentiments similar to these occur so frequently in his earlier and later works, in aU his speeches and -WT-itings on the subject, that it seems strange how they could ever be misunderstood. A passage in his speech against the repeal of the Marriage Act, in 1781, speaks this language BO forcibly and explicitly that no excuse can avail for mis- 1790. HIS OPINIONS OF LIBEBTT. 321 taking or misrepresenting his idea of freedom. Another pas- sage from one of his speeches at Bristol, in 1774, illustrates similar sentiments : " The distinguishing part of our consti- tution is its liberty. To preserve that liberty inviolate seems the particular duty and proper trust of a member of the House of Commons. But the liberty, the only liberty I mean, is a liberty connected loith order ; that only exists along with virtue and order, hut which cannot exist without them.'''' Addressing the same constituents in 1780, in allusion to the condition of the Eoman Catholics, he says, " I must fairly tell you, that so far as my principles are concerned (principles that 1 hope will only depart with my last breath), that I have no idea of a liberty unconnected with honesty and justice ; * * factions in republics have been and are full as capable as monarchs of the most cruel oppression and injustice. It is but too true, tliat the love and even the very idea of genuine liberty is extremely rare." Any one professing such sentiments as these could not do otherwise than oppose the French Eevolution, for it ful- filled none of his conceptions of genuine liberty. We have seen that he had his doubts of its nature from the first, and far from wavering in opinion like some of his contemporaries, gradually rose from caution to apprehension, from apprehen- sion to certainty, that such proceedings as were going on could be productive only of enormous evils. He did not hate the revolution in France simply because it was a revo- lution, but because it was a bad one ; or rather the utter dissolution of the main elements of government, religion, and morals — all the means which not merely bind men together, but have in fact from the condition of savages made us men. He did not war against liberty, but against the abuses committed under its name ; not against freedom but against licentiousness. He allowed no inherent power in the half or the majority of a nation to annihilate the persons, the property, or the honours of the remainder at their will and pleasure, by way of political experiment or speculative improvement. " He could not admit the right of any people to do what they pleased, until he first knew what it pleased them to do." It is remarkable, and another instance of singular keen- ness and length of view, that though the danger was obvious to him, neither the government nor the nation at lai'ge had Y 322 LIFE OF 3UEKE. 1790, any idea that Prench opinions and principles were so generally diffused in England, or had made so many con- verts. But the publication of his book disclosed the extent of the mischief which had been silently though rapidly spread- ing, by the numbers of answers it produced. I have counted no less than thirty-eight which came out ■wdthin a year or two, and several have doubtless escaped notice, •^hile others may have appeared at a later period ; but were all the letters, essays, fragments, and invectives of every denomination collected, which appeared then and since, in magazines, reviews, newspapers, and every form of publica- tion periodical and otherwise on this prolific theme they would amount to many hundreds. In the list of opponents were the names of Priestly, Price (who dying soon after the appearance of the " Eeflec- tions," which his sermon had partly provoked, was said by his friends to have been hurt or killed by him). Earl Stan- hope, Mrs. AVollstonecraft, Mrs. Macaulay Graham, the historian, Mr. (afterwards Sir James) Mackintosh, and Thomas Paine. Not one of their works has survived. The " Vindiciae Gallicae" alone, was the production of a more sober inquirer, a scholar and a gentleman, who though he then wrote upon politics with the dim and flickering light of a closet philosopher, soon learned to judge and to act in a more practical spirit, chiefly by the teaching of that very master whom he had thus ventured to oppose, and whom he soon afterwards thus characterized—" A writer who was admired by all mankind for his eloquence, but who is if possible, still more admired by all competent judges for his philosophy ; a writer of whom I may justly say, that he was gravissimus et dicendi et intelUgendi aiictor et magister.^' Even from the first he exhibited the confidence in himself of one who could afford to be at once bold and liberal in his opposition to the great orator — who could advocate what he thought freedom to others without madly assaulting the foundations of our own ; who could investigate doctrines without de- scending to personal abuse of the author ; who in endea- vouring to refute them, could admit his worth, his extraor- dinary powers, and iu spite of clamour to the contrary, the general consistency of his life and principles. Such a man was Sir James Mackintosh, who if not at the head of the party with whom he s^» long and so vainly laboured, 1790. MACKIXT08H — PAINE. 323 was certainly not justled from it by anything like superiority of mind among its more acknowledged leaders. Of a very diflerent description was " The Eights of Man," by Thomas Paine. This remarkable character, who had ai*- rived from America in 1787, brought with him a letter of introduction to Mr. Biu'ke from the Hon. Henry Laurens, ex-President of Congress, who it will be remembered had been released from the Tower in 1781 by the exertions of the former, requesting his influence to attract public notice to some mechanical contrivances of Mr. Paine, particularly the model of an iron bridge. Mr. Burke, with accustomed hospitality, invited him to Beaconsfield, took him during a summer excursion to Yorkshire to several iron- foundi'ies there in order to gain the opinions of practical men, and introduced him to several persons of rank. At this time his guest, whom it is doubtful whether he knew to be an Englishman, professed to have relinquished politics. But soon afterward having visited Prance in order to inspect plans and models in the Office of Bridges and Highways intro- duced by a letter from Dr. Pranklin to the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the incipient disorders of that coimtry revived in his mind the dormant spirit of turbulence and dissatisfaction toward existing institutions inherent in the man. He returned to England well-informed of the designs of the popidar leaders, of which many intelligible intimations were dropped to Bui'ke, with a recommendation that he shoidd endeavour to introduce a onore enlarged system of liberty into England, using reform in Parliament as the most obvious means. This hint was as may be believed, coldly received. " Do you really imagine, Mr. Paine, that the constitution of this kingdom requires such innovations, or coidd exist with them, or that any reflecting man would seriously engage in them ? Ton are aware that I have all my life opposed such schemes of reform ; of course, because I knew tliem not to be reform." Not discouraged by this rebuft", Paine wrote to the same purport from Paris in the summer of 1789, and there is little doubt, first communicated to his distinguished ac- quaintance verbal information that the destruction of the monarchy was resolved upon ; that the leaders had deter- mined to set fire to the four corners of France sooner than not carry their principles into practice ; and that no dangei 324 LIFE OF BUBKE. 1790 was to be apprehended from the army, for it was gained. A note to that etfect was sad to be dated only three days before the destruction of the Bastile. His intimacy with Burke had however declined previously to the appearance of the " Keflections," and his more noxious peculiarities remained unknown ; the leveller and the deist being shrouded under the guise of an ingenious mechanist. But the " B/ights of Man," written in answer to that work, exhibited at once the mental deformity of the man, inimical to nearly every thing that bore the stamp of authority, or of time, or of opinion. In accordance with this unhappy and mis- chievous disposition, he had long before stifled the best feel- ings of our nature by voluntary dereliction of the marriage ties and duties ; he had divested himself of the troublesome restraints of religion ; he had shaken olFall confined notions of attachment to country. Nothing of an Englishman remained of him but the name, and even that he tried to extinguish by becoming successively by adoption an American and a Frenchman : but as his principles and conduct were a scandal to all, so all perhaps would willingly be rid of the dishonour attached to the owning of such a citizen. It was his aim by perverting what capacity he possessed, not to make men better or happier, but to be discontented with what they were, with what they knew, or with what they already enjoyed. His systems, both in religion and politics, led not merely to the disorganization of states, but of the human mind itself, by setting it adrift on the waters of doubt and despair, without a resting-place or land- mark for its guidance in this world, or hope in the next. To a style of writing and reasoning well adapted to impose upon ordinary understandings, he added a cool temper aud design- ing head, unfettered by the common restraints and scruples of mankind. To the trades of staymaker, schoolmaster, and exciseman in his native country, he hud added what is so often the resort of desperate men, the profession of a patriot in America. He had proved a brute to his wife, a defaulter to his trust, a traitor to his country, a disbeliever in his God ; .nid having already successfully aided and abetted rebellion ;i broad, seemed to be cut out for the presiding genius of a revo- Jution at home, if not prematurely taken oft' by the hand of the executioner. But as if in person to warn us of the desolating tendency of his doctrines, he completed the cata- 1790. OPPONENTS OF THE " BEPLECTIONS." 325 logue of offences by adultery with the vrife of his friend, by the brutal treatment and desertion of his victim, by drunk- enness, and by disgusting personal negligences. The very excess of moral degradation almost made him an object of compassion. His life was evil, and his end miserable. The book was characteristic of the man. Its purpose was, through the debasing principle of envy, which is after all the inciting motive of a leveller, to reduce mankind to one stand- ard ; to write up a sort of confusion made easy, by urging the baser to war against the better passions of our nature, in order to pull down superior station, talents, virtues, and distinctions to the level of the lowest. It was an open declaration of hostility to all the institutions which we in England had been accustomed to consider as our ornament and pride ; not a reform of real or imaginary abuses, but a pretty plain recommendation to demoHsh present govern- ment altogether for the pleasure of building afresh on the republican model — good perhaps in the eyes of an American, but at variance with the habits, the feelings, the honest convictions and prejudices of an Englishman. It affords an illustration of the frenzy of the day, that this production was devoured rather than read, by that strong party, many of them of rank and influence, who intent on committing a species of moral suicide disseminated it in cheap editions through the country ; thus flinging a fire-brand into every cottage to burst out and consume themselves. While in the clubs and societies of cities the same insane spirit of ani- mosity, under cover of aftected satisfaction, was shown in the favourite toast constantly drunk " thanks to Mr. Burke for the discussion he has provoked," — as if they firmly hoped or wished the world to believe, that he had injured those vital interests of the state, of which in fact his book proved the salvation. It may be remarked that two other literary opponents on this question, Mr. Christie and Mr. Bousefield, were among the number of his acquaintance. The latter, who proved to be the more virulent, had been recommended to his notice by some friends in the county of Cork, of which that gentleman was a native, and had in consequence participated largely in the hospitalities of Beacon sfield as well as something in the friendship of its owner. The only return made was by vent- ing upon him nearly all the abuse of which he was master. 326 LIFE OF BUUKE. 1791. Of another republican acquaintance of rather more celebrity, he gave the following account, when speaking of the address of a deputation from the constitutional society of London, formed of Joel Barlow and John Frost, to the National Con- vention. " The extravagance of Anacharsis Clootz in wishing to embrace China, Quebec, Bulam, and in short all the world, in the confraternity of France, was not peculiar to him, but was also entertained by all the members of the Assembly. This Clootz was an old. acquaintance and correspondent, being very respectably introduced to him, and had no small share in producing the French Revolution. He was a Prus- sian by birth, highly conversant in every branch of literature, and much better qualified to act the part of a philosopher than John Frost as deputy from the people of Great Britain. In June 1790 this man appeared at the bar of the National Assembly, accompanied by men of all nations, Asiatic, Afri- can, and European, of which latter the English made no incon- siderable part. There, as orator of the human race, he invoked for them all the protection and confraternity of France ; and this happened on the very day when the Assembly demolished, by a decree, the nobility of France." A reply from the French correspondent to whom the " Reflections" had been addressed, dated 17th November, 1790, gave Mr. Burke an opportunity of following up his blow by a rejoinder entitled " Letter to a Member of the National Assembly." In this, which appeared in February, 1791, he advances many new observations, sets others in stronger lights, and glances at the characters of some of their writers whose principles it was the fashion to follow, as being no better than what he on another occasion termed " the mere jays and magpies of philosophy." Rousseau he sketches in strong, yet not undue terms, when considered, as he says he must be, either " as a moralist or as nothing," and as " the great professor and founder of the philosophy of vanity. I liad good opportunities of knowing his proceedings almost from day to day* and he left no doubt on my mind that he entertained no principle either to influence his heart or to * In 1766, when he came, on the invitation of Hume, and behaved in a manner so extraordinary as to be inexplicable in any other way than to suppose him wholly possessed by what may be termed the iiimnity of vanity. Mr. Burke was then in frequent communication with Hume, and fiom that philosopher himself heard the proceedings of his extiaordinary i 1791. FURTHER PAMPHLETS — ME. FOX. 327 guide liis understanding, but vanity." He asserts in this letter, from almost positive knowledge (the correspondents just mentioned), that the excesses of the revolution were not accidental, as some pretended to believe ; but systematically designed from the beginning, even previous to the meeting of the states-general. He hints likewise at the necessity for that coalition of the sovereigns of Europe against France, which took place a few months afterward ; and explicitly states the intention of the prevailing faction to put the King to death whenever his name should become no longer necessary to their designs. Mr. Fox writing toward the end of May, says "he has not read Burke's new pamphlet, but it is in general thought to be mere madness." The declaration of the French Ambassador of his Sove- reign's acceptance of the new constitution, drew from Mr. Burke a paper privately presented to the Ministry, " Hints for a Memorial to M. De Montmorin." It recommended the offer of British mediation between that monarch and his subjects on the basis of a free constitution to be guaranteed, if required, by England; and in case of refusal by the popular party, to intimate the design of withdrawing our Minister from a Court where the Sovereign no longer enjoyed personal liberty or political consideration. In the mean time several threatening indications pro- claimed an approaching breach in the Whig party, very few of whom, except two or three of his personal friends, could be persuaded by Burke of the irretrievable mischiefs at work in France. Mr. Fox expressed his approval of the principles, though not of the proceedings there, twice or thrice in no measured terms ; once in debate on the Eussian armament, when Mr. Burke rising to reply, was overpowered by con- tinued cries of question from his own side of the House ; and again on a Bill providing a constitution for Canada, wiien the latter was not present. On this occasion Fox directed pointed censure against some of the chief doctrines in Burke's late publications, directly questioning the utility of heredi- tary power, or honours, or titles of rank, concluding with a sneer at " ribbons red and blue." These opinions might have been honest, though perhaps neither sound nor in the best taste; and at the moment were unquestionably impru- dent. They echoed but the revohitionary language of the day, to which sanction was thus given by a man of iio ordinary weight, in the country j and could not be considered other 328 iiFE or BUEKJB. 1791. than a direct cballeuge to discussion, addressed to his old associate and political instructor. As such Mr. Bui-ke evidently considered it. On the 6th of May on the same (Quebec) bill, he rose to state his sentiments in detail. But in adverting to the French Constitution by name and the unhappy scenes to which it had given rise, was loudly called to order from the Opposition benches. Mr. Fox, who had himself made allusions as strong to the same measure, unexpectedly assailed him by an ironical defence, recom- mending his friends in effect, to let him say what he pleased. Mr. Burke, after noticing this circumstance, resumed his argument, and again experienced successively seven or eight other formal interruptions at short intervals, accompanied by speeches to order from diiferent members of his own party ; while at the same moment, others on the ministerial iside maintained he was perfectly in order. This contention presented amid contending shouts of Chair! chair! Hear! hear ! Order ! order ! Go on ! go on ! a scene which he re- marked at the moment was only to be paralleled in the politi- cal assemblages of a neighbouring country of which he was endeavouring to convey some idea to the House. At length, an express vote of censure for noticing the affairs of France was moved against him by Lord Sheffield, and seconded by Mr. Fox. Mr. Pitt, on the contrary, leaned to his views and urged his being in order ; that he was grateful to the right hon. gentleman for the manly struggle made by him against French principles ; that his views should receive support whenever danger approached ; and that his zeal and eloquence in such a cause entitled him to the gratitude of his fellow-subjects. Mr. Fox followed in a vehement address, alter- nately rebuking and complimenting Burke in a high strain, and while vindicating his own opinions, questioning the truth and consistency of those of his right hon. friend who he must ever esteem his master, but who nevertheless seemed to have forgotten the lessons he had once taught him. In support of the charge of inconsistency thus advanced, he quoted several sarcastic and ludicrous remarks of little moment at any time and scarcely worth repeating then, but which as they had been expressed fourteen or fifteen years before, seemed to be raked up for the occasion. In this, there was an appearance of premeditation and want of generosity, which hurt Mr. Burke, as he afterwards expressed to a friend, more than any public occurrence of his life, and he rose to reply under the 1791. HIS EUPTURE WITH FOX. 329 influence of painful and strong feelings. He complained after debating the main question, of being treated with harshness and malignity for which the motive seemed unaccountable — of being personally attacked from a quarter where he least expected it after an intimacy of more tlian twenty-two years, — of his public sentiments and writings being garbled, and his confidential communications violated, to give colour to an unjust charge. At his time of life it was obviously indis- creet to provoke enemies or to lose friends, as he could not hope for the opportunities necessary to acquire others, yet if his steady adherence to the British constitution placed him in such a dilemma, he would risk all and as public duty and prudence taught him with his last breath exclaim, " Fly from the French constitution;" Mr. Fox here observed, "there is no loss of friendship." " I regret to say there is," was the reply — " I know the value of my line of conduct ; I have in- deed made a grt at sacrifice ; I have done my duty though I have lost my friend. There is something in the detested French constitution that envenoms every thing it touches." After many comments on the question, he attempted to con- clude with an elegant apostrophe to the respective heads of the great parties in the state, steadfastly to guard against innovations and untried tlieories tlie sacred edifice of the British constitution, when he was again twice interrupted by Mr. Grey. Mr. Fox, unusually excited by this public renunciation of long intimacy, rose under excited feelings, " so that it was some moments," says the Morning Chronicle report, " before he could proceed. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he strove in vain to give utterance to feelings that dignified his nature." "When he had recovered, besides adverting to French affairs, an eloquent appeal broke forth to his old and revered friend — to the remembrance of their past attachment — their inalien- able friendship — their reciprocal affection, as dear and almost as binding as the ties of nature between father and son. Seldom had there been heard in the House of Commons an appeal so pathetic and so personal. Tet even at the moment when he was seemingly dissolved in tenderness, the perti- nacity of the professed thoroughbred disputant prevailed over the feelings of the man. He gave utterance to unusu- ally bitter sarcasms, reiterated his objectionable remarks, adding others not of the most conciliatory tendency, and of 330 LIFE OF BURKE. 1791, course rather aggravating tlian extenuating the original of- fence. Eejoinders on both sides followed without eliciting more amicable sentiments, and thenceforward the intimacy of these illustrious men ceased. Such are in brief, the facts connected with this memorable dispute, which excited more general interest and produced more important results than any similar disagreement in our political annals. Opposition instantly saw in it the probable loss of much of that consequence they had hitherto enjoyed in the State ; and though at first alarmed at the consequences, soon proceeded to utter harsh animadversions upon their late ally, both at the breaking up of the House, as well as on all occasions afterwards, and continued by writers of strong political partialities even to this day, scarcely one of whom but misrepresents the circumstances or motives of the quarrel. This is unfair. If design can be attributed to either party, it would appear assuredly to have rested rather with Mr. Fox and his friends than with Mr. Burke ; for though they probably desired no rupture with him, no measures more likely to effect it could be devised than they adopted. There existed evidently a fixed determination to prevent him from delivering his sentiments upon an extraordinary and questionable event on the pretext of being out of order. Admitting him for argument sake to have been out of order, which was not the case as the House decided, w^as it the business of his friends to attack him upon that head ? — of the men wath whom he had been so long associated, whose career he had often directed, whose battles he had fought, whose credit he had been the first to raise in public esteem — to assail him with vehement disap- qfi'obation, persevering interruptions, and votes of censure ? A.11 that he asked for or expected was the liberty of expressing lis sentiments as Mr. Fox had done — and this they in efl'ect told him he should not be permitted to have iipon that par- ticular subject. The natural inference was, that it stood too high in their esteem to be sufiered to be exposed to the withering influence of his censure.* There was sometliing in this of political ingratitude, and obviously no small portion of folly and indiscretion ; for it impressed general belief in the • Burke himself -wittily observed at a subsequent time, that the topic oi France, tl)ou;;h open r.o every one else, was by the opposition tuhodea to him — by what rite of authority, or superstition, he could not divine. 1791. CAUSES OF DISAGEEEMEKT WITH FOX. 331 country that the mmority, iust< ad of viewing the French question as matter of serious inquiry and deliberation, had at once and so heartily adopted its spirit, as to proceed to the last extremities with one of the heads of their body sooner than hear him treat it with reprobation. There are other reasons which tell in favour of Burke. Far from being the first to broach the topic as a provocative to quarrel, he had on the contrary studiously avoided it in this and the preceding sessions until introduced by the per- sons who now professed to wish to avoid the subject. It was obviously his interest not to disagree with those with whom he had been so long connected, and more especially at this moment when it was believed in consequence of words which fell from the King on the dispute with Russia, that they were likely to come into power.* He had already explicitly declared his intention to separate from the dearest friends he possessed who should give countenance to the re- volutionary doctrines then afloat ; and the breach with Mr. Sheridan proved that this was no idle threat. He doubtless felt displeased that his general opinions should be, if not misrepresented at least so far misapplied as to become the means of charging him with dereliction of principle. He might be angry that this should be done by one who had long been his friend, and who boasted even at the moment that he was his disciple. He coidd not be well pleased that this disciple should condemn his book without ceremony as an attack on all free governments. He could not be highly conciliated by that friend withdrawing, as had been the case for a few preceding years, much of that public confidence which he had hitherto reposed in him. For as no similarity existed in their private pursuits, they were political friends or they were nothing ; and the withholding confidence on such subjects became in fact a tacit dissolution of the compact by which they had been united. In addition, there were circumstances which rendered it scarcely possible they could continue on the same terms as before. The dispute was not about a private or trivial, but a great constitutional matter which superseded all minor • Mr Fox had himself communicated to Burke a few days before a speech mude by the King; at the levee to the effect, that if the g-overnment could not be properly conducted by Mr. Pitt it might be done by others, for he was not wedded to him. 332 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1791. considerations, — not a familiar or speculative topic on which they might amicably differ, and pass on to the consideration of others on which they agreed ; but one in its consequences involving the very existence of the state. It was a question wholly new. It was one which interested every man in the kingdom. It was constantly and progressively before the eyes of Parliament. It met the leaders at every turn in debate, and in some form or another mingled in every discus- sion of fact or principle. It was in itself full of difficulties, of jagged points and sharp angles, against which neither could rub without feeling some degree of irritation ; and it was one on wlaich from the first each seemed to have staked his whole reputation for political wisdom against the other ; Mr. Fox, with all the enthusiasm of a generous and unwary man ; Mr. Burke with tlie penetration of a profound philo- sopher and the calculating sagacity of a practical statesman. In support of their opinions both were quite as vehement as the case required ; one pushing on or being pushed by Opposition, to apologize for the misdeeds of the French Revo- lution ; the other outstripping the van of the Ministry, or rather leading it, in bitter reprobation. Constant contention, " hand to hand and foot to foot," as Burke expressed his determination to contend, could lead especially with an old associate only to coldness ; and from coldness to alienation, from alienation to dislike, the steps are few, and quick, and certain. A breach therefore sooner or later was inevitable. Whether it ought not to have taken place by degrees, and with less of publicity, is matter of opinion, and at best of little consequence. An open and decisive expression of his mind (to a fault) had hitherto characterized the Irish orator upon all occasions ; and he probably thought the same mode of conduct now more honourable in itself, and more calcu- lated to impress upon the country a sense of the magnitude of its danger, and the sincerity of his conviction that the danger was near. All previous circumstances since April 15th, when the clamour of his own party prevented him replying to Mr. Fox, plainly intimated a rupture in the Whig ranks. The latter gentleman long afterwards regretted this imprudent proceeding of his supporters, saying that though the conflict between them might have been hotter and fiercer, it would probably have left no unpleasant feelings behind. In fact, 17S1. CATTSliS OF DISAGEEEMENT WITH FOX. 333 the next morning a general alarm at the eonsequenees of this step spread through the party, and several conciliatory explanations and apologies were ofiered to Burke, Many who agreed in Fox's opinions did not hesitate to condemn him for imprudence in expressing them, though it was equally true that he had heen urged to do so by others, and for not having already done so before, a few of the number had been tempted to say he was deficient in firmness. On the other hand Burke's personal friends, and the connexions of the Duke of Portland, though agreeing in his views, washed him to pass over the opinions and the challenges of Pox and Sheridan in silence. This he urged was impossible. He was willing to for- get the total want of consideration and respect shown to him on recent occasions, as well as the abuse directed against his writings ; yet in addition to these, without any overt act to cause such a proceeding, he had been thrice within a week pointedly dared to the discussion ; and standing as he did, pledged to the House and to the country upon the subject, it would look like political cowardice to shrink from the contest. Besides, he thought Mr. Tox's opinions of weight in the country, and should not be permitted to circulate unopposed. He felt further impelled, by an imperious sense of public duty, which he considered paramount to all other considerations whatever. While intimation was received toward the middle or end of April, that the adherents of the Whig leader had determined to interrupt him on any allusions to French affairs, that gen- tleman himself in company with a friend, waited upon him to request that the discussion might be postponed till another opportunity, which Mr. Burke however pointed out was not likely to occur again during the Session. To convince Mr. Fox, nevertheless, that nothing personal or offensive should proceed from him, he stated explicitly what he meant to say, mentioning the heads of his arguments, and the limita- tions he designed to impose on himself; an instance of can- dour which Mr. Fox returned by relating the favourable expressions recently uttered of him by the King. The in- terview, therefore, though not quite satisfactory, excited no angry feelings. On the contrary, they walked -down to the House together, and entered it, but found that the Quebec government bill had been postponed till after the Easter holidays. But as if fated to fan the slumbering flame of 334 IIFE O BUKKE. 1791. dissension, Mr. M. A. Taylor observed on this evening that the constitution of that colony had been improperly treated, by involving the consideration of the general principles of government, and the constitutions of other countries. Insinuations had been throvni out against the opinions of some of the gentlemen with whom he acted. If, therefore, he found the minister, or any other right honourable gentleman^ wander from the strict discussion of the matter, he should call him to order and take the sense of the House upon it. The allusion to Burke was palpable and so he considered it, but made no reply. Mr. Fox, with more consideration, admitted that in form- ing a government for a colony, attention should be paid to the general principles of all governments. He himself had alluded perhaps too often, to the French Hevolution. He had also spoken much on the government of the American States because they were in the vicinity of Canada ; but on the Quebec bill he had only uttered one silly levity,* not worth recollection, relative to the French devolution ; he meant an allusion to the extinction of nobility in France audits revival in Canada. He was not in the habit of concealing his opinions ; neither did he retract any which he had heretofore advanced on that subject ; and when the Quebec bill came again to be discussed, though from the respect he enter- tained for some of his friends he should be sorry to difler from them, yet he would deliver his opinions fearlessly. Mr. Powys remarked that the debate had turned irregularly both on retrospect and anticipation, and hinted that Mr. Fox should have followed the example of Mr. Burke, in writing, rather than in speaking there, of the French Revolution. Mr. Burke, in an affecting manner assured the House that nothing depressed him more — nothing had ever more affected body and mind — than the thought of meeting his friend as a direct antagonist. After noticmg allusions thrown out and the accompanying observations, he considered that in framing a new constitution, it was desirable to refer to various forms of government and examples of other constitutions in order to see to what extent certain principles had been • This was, that *' nobility stunk in the nostrils of the people of Ame- rica." The phrase itself was not orig-inal, but had been used by Burke many years before applied to a former jupopular House of Commons. 1.79 1- CAUSES OF DISAOBEBMENT AVITH FOX, 335 adopted elsewhere, and how they had succeeded or were likeJy to succeed. His opinions on government he presumed not to be unknown. Gentlemen had become fond of quoting him m that House ; and the more he considered the French Constitution, the more sorry he was to see it viewed with any degree of favour. Once in the preceding session he had thought himself under the necessity of speaking very fidly upon the subject ; but since that time he had never mentioned it either directly or indirectly ; no man therefore could chary e him with having provoked the conversation that had passed. He should, however, give his opinion on particular principles of govern- ment in the future progress of the Quebec bill. He acquitted with much candour his right honourable friend of any per- sonal ofience in the interruption he had lately experienced (April 15), in attempting to answer his recent panegyric on France : and he finished by saying, that should he and that friend difier, he desired it to be recollected that however dear he considered his friendship, there was something stiL dearer in his mind— the love of his country. Neither was he stimulated to the part he should take by any connexion with people in office ; for whatever they knew of his political sentiments they had learned from him, not he from them. Such were the precursors of this political storm. All the party elements had for some time appeared surcharged with combustible matter which required but a spark in order to explode, and this the unwise members supplied. Our surprise is chiefly excited by the strange delusion that Burke, whose decision of character and determination to carry through any thing he had once taken in hand could admit of no mistake, should be expected to submit to their arbitrary deo-eeof silence. No infatuation could be greater. Of all men in the House they ought to have known that he was the last to be turned from any purpose which he thought public duty i-equired ; his conviction of being right was the result as they knew of long and anxious consideration. Mr. Fox. as we have seen, had given the challenge, yet was evidently in dread of the catastrophe that ensued, while his retainers proceeding a point further resolved that if intimidation coidd succeed there should be no contest. The preceding observations of Burke evinced a resolute though conciliatory spirit ; tlie friends of Fox thought proper angrily to resent this determination ; and during the interval between this period and the 6th of 336 LirE or burke. 1791, May, plain intimations found vent in the Opposition news- papers that he should not be permitted to proceed in his purpose. All this was clearly impolitic ; the conduct of the body in the whole affair, harsh if not hostile. That of Mr. Fox it is also difficult to explain. In treating of a constitution for a colony which embraced English and French interests, it was scarcely out of order to contrast their respective constitutions with that of the one proposed ; but it seemed strange that the same privilege should be denied to another member of at least equal talents and of the same party, because he drew a different conclusion. Why, it was pertinently asked, should Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan have license to extol the French revolution or constitution when speaking upon the Quebec bill, while to Mr. Burke, the topic of France should be for- bidden ? Surprise likewise arose that the former sb.ould pro- fess such warm admiration of the French revolution, when confessedly not one beneficial result had arisen from it, oi seemed likely to arise, to that or to any other country. If this admiration were sincere, what conclusions could be drawn from his political wisdom or prudence? If it were not, the inference was equally against his political honesty It is no more than justice to him to state however that what he panegyrised in the gross, he condemned almost uniformly in detail; and more in private conversation than he foiUd be bi'ought to express in debate. It is on record likewise that though on two occasions he applauded the new French Constitution as " the most stupendous and glorious edifice of liberty which had been erected on the foundation ol human integrity in any time or country," he afterwards when pushed by Mr. Burke, explained away his meaning by saying that it applied to the revolution, — not to the Constitution. His sentiments seemed more than once to waver as to the line of conduct most fitting for him to pursue. It has been always believed that he was urged on by sinister influence, or that innate passion for popularity he always avowed, to take the side he did ; and that having irrecoverably lost Burke by going too far, he was obliged to go further in order to retain Sheridan, who is said to have exacted explicit declaration of his opinions as the price of liis continued exertions in Parliament. It has been asserted by some of the Members who continued lo adhere to him — that he would ultimately have been brought 1791. LOED Holland's misbepeeseittatioks. ii'il over to Biirke's views had not the precipitate separation of the latter affected his pride ; for tliat after the publicity of the quarrel if he should relinquish his opinions in order to effect a reconciliation, it would look so much like weakness as to lose him the lead in his party, if not in public esteem. It is likewise said that Burke himself expected to make a convert of him even after their disagreement. Yet to a distant observer, these sanguine conclusions were not at all ])robable. Mr. Fox knew, that by joining administration he must be- come a secondary personage to Mr. Pitt, who could not be expected voluntarily to surrender half of that power which he •enjoyed as a whole. While on the other hand, by not accepting office but merely showing himself in Parliament to re-echo the voice of Ministry, or by seceding altogether from business, he equally ran the hazard of losing something of his public importance. There was the further consideration whether even if admitted to an equality of power, it was probable he and Mr. Pitt should agree in their general mea- sures. A calculation of these chances, and perhaps a real belief of serving the cause of liberty by remaining at the head of Opposition, determined him to keep his station. Far be it from my wish to "lean upon the memory of a great man ;" but simple justice to another still greater, requires that an impartial statement should be opposed to misrepresentations still applied to him in consequence of this schism, by certain unscrupulous admirers of Mr. Fox, the rival leader of the Whigs.* * This has been even very recently repeated. The passag-e in the text was printed nearly thirty years ag'o, and the circumstances of the rupture fully known and recognized as historical facts since 1791. I was surprised therefore to see a random contradiction of the account from Lord Holland in "Memoirs of the Whig- Party," in the following few unceremonious and unsupported -words — " Nothing can be more false than the account of that memorable debate in Prior's Life of Burke." I might rest content with the remarks of the able writer in the Quarterly Review(No. CLXXXI. .lune, Iboi) in refuting- this, as he has done so many more, of that Nobleman's random statements; but something more may be due to the reader. His Lordship does not venture to give any account himself or froui any of his friends, of what he presumed or knew of the actual circumstances of the quarrel. He does not even hint in what point nnne is erroneous. In trutli he could not do so without being guilty of mis-statement. The detail was carefully drawn up after the perusal of several accounts more or less full, written immediately after the occurrence, and could no more be filsified, were there any such design, than any memorable event in the Hnuse of (Jouimons of the present day. It was corroborated by Mr. Haviland Bm'ke from many details jfiveu by his mother then resident with her uncle, wliQ, Z 338 LIFE OF BTTEItE. 1791. An anecdote of this memorable evening related by a Member who had adopted Mr. Fox's opinions, evinces, contrary to the inference he draws, that Burke instead of displaying the calm- ness of one who had come down to the House prepared for a rupture, felt the irritation which unpremeditated quarrels, and theharsh reception he had experienced, were calulated to excite. " The most powerful feelings," says Mr. Curwen,* " were had heard numerous particulars from him and his visitors at Beaconsfield at the period of the occurrence. It was conlirmed verbally and in written details hj Dr. Walker King, afterwards Bishop of Rochester and Editor of Burke's Works. And it was further confirmed by a very full rejiort, occupying- the whole of the paper to the exclusion of other subjects, of the journal especially devoted to Mr. Fox, the Morning- Chronicle. No modern event can be more accurately verified. The interrupters of Burke were in succession Mr. Baker, Mr. M. A. Taylor, Mr. St. John, Mr. Anstru- ther, twice, Mr. Grey supported by Sheridan, twice, Mr. St. John again, Lord Sheffield with a vote of censure seconded by Fox, in a speech in which he declared his and his rig-ht honourable friend's o])inions on the French Revolution were "wide as the Poles asundei," and that it was " one of the greatest and happiest events of which history bore any record," and finally by Mr. Grey. The latter occurred after Burke had said that with several differences of opinion with Fox, nothing hitherto had interrupted their friendship. This drew forth the appeal of the latter in a speech filling five columns of the newspaper. Lord Holland was an agreeable and hospitable man, who had tact enough to cultivate literai-y society. But he was deficient in judgment, in research, ni discrimination, in accuracy as an annalist, and warped by extreme prejudices, commonly unfounded and often absurd. He was no more fitted to sit down to the composition of accurate history, than to write Epic Poems. And the consciousness of this defect, probably induced him to neglect embodying the ample materials he possessed into a life of his uncle, which have thence passed into the more skilled hands of Lord John Russell. Of his unfairness, if not hatred, towards Burke, we have a still newer specimen in the fifth volume of Moore's " Memorials and Correspondence," — "Asked Lord Holland several questions about Burke, suggested to me by reading Prior's life of Burke. Burke very anxious (Lord Holland says) for the Coalition. Fiftj'-four Articles of impeachment against Fox were written by Burke hqforc the separation. In his ' History of the Enulish Colonies,' Burke suggested (Lord Holland thinks) American taxation. Burke always a jobber." Every point in this passage is unti-ue — some so notoriously contrary to fact as to be obvious to a cursory reader of modern history — but they shew the idle assertions in which his Lordship was accustomed to indulge equally in speech and in writing. Of the alleged jobbing propensities of Burke, every account of his proceedings or opinions m every session he sat in Parliament, is a sufficient refutation ; and some of the compliments paid to him by opponents and friends on the score of disinterestedness will be found in this work. — Should the reader desire fur- ther details of the dispute between him and Fox, a full account will be found in the Annual Register for 1791. * Travels in Ireland, vol. ii. 1791. ANECDOTE BY MK. CUBWEIT. 339 manifested on the adjournment of the House. Whilst 1 was waiting for my carriage, Mr. Burke came up to me and requested, as the night was wet, I would set him down — T could not refuse — though I confess I felt a reluctance in com- plying. As soon as the carriage door was sliut, he compli- mented me on my being no friend to the revolutionary doctrines of the French, on which he spoke with great warmth for a few minutes, when he paused to aflbrd me an opportu- nity of approving the view he had taken of those rm^asures iu the House. Former experience had taught me the conse- quences of differing from his opinions ; yet at the moment I could not feel disinclined to disguise my sentiments. Mr. Burke, catching hold of the check-string, furiously exclaimed, * Tou are of these people ! set me down !' With some difficulty I restrained him ; — we had then reached Charing Cross — a silence ensued, which was preserved till we reached his house in Gerrard street, when he hurried out of the carriage without speaking, and thus our intercourse ended." Tet when his own personal and political interests were at stake, he displayed nothing of this spirit of irritation, as the following anecdote recorded by the same gentleman testifies, and it is only one among many others : - "On the first question of the Regency I difiered from Mr. Fox : when the division was proceeding, Mr. Burke espied me remaining in my seat ; he tui'ned about and repeatedly called on me, but as I obeyed not the summons, a laixgh at his expense ensued. Though evidently displeased, I must do him the justice to say he did not resent it." Tlie House meeting again on the 11th, Mr. Fox explained away his opinions against aristocracy ; which Pitt sarcasti- cally said he was glad to hear, for he and most others had formed a diflereut estimate of his meaning from what had fallen from him on the evening they had last assembled. Mr. Burke spoke at length on the situation in which he stood with his party. Mr. Fox again assailed him with some censures and personalities, at the same time saying that if he wished to return to his party, it would receive, respect, and love him as heretofore. Of this censure and invitation little notice was taken, no attempt being made to recriminate ; so that iu the whole of this aftair the loss of temper would seem to have been quite as great iu the one gentleman as in the otlier. To Burke, decided separation from his late associates may have been more a relief thau annovance. He now stood aloue 340 LIFE or BrEKE. 1791. between the two great parties— unallied to one, and expe- riencing little less than hostility from the other in whose service his political life had been spent. Private uneasiness was added to extreme anxiety for public interests, which largely occupied his mind and even affected his health. " 1 am not well. Speaker," said he approaching the chair of the House of Commons one evening, — " I eat too much, I drink too much, and I sleep very little."* Some time after the final rupture with his former party he quoted in Mr. Addington's hearing, " iEneas celsa in puppi, jam certus eundi Carpebat somnos." A nd again when assailed by interruptions from its inferior retainers gave the passage from King Lear — " The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanche, and Sweetheart, See — they bark at me.'' Not the least remarkable event of the period was the very next measure brought forward by Mr. Fox. This, while often in the habit of dropping hints upon inconsistency, seemed cal- culated to render his own more particularly marked, as in the late quarrel allusions occurred to difference of opinion with Burke on this very point — to whom in fact, the present undertaking was a strong though unavowed acknowledgment of the superiority of his views at an early period of his life, on a great constitutional matter. This was the bill for empow- ering juries to try the questions both of law and of fact in prosecutions for libel. It has been noticed that a bill for this purpose was intro- duced by Mr. Dowdeswell in March 1771, in consequence of the discussions whicli arose from the verdict of the Jury in Almou's trial for publishing Junius's Letter to the King. This measure Mr. Burke as the moving spirit of the party, not only suggested but drew up with his own hand, and sup- ported in the House by an able speech. Ministry resisted it, and among others Mr. Fox pointedly. Lord Shelburne and his friends gave it a hollow support ; Lord Chatham and his followers, scouted it ; and Mr. Home Tooke attacked it ano- nymously in the newspapers ; yet all these persons formed sections of Opposition — so much were the judgment and constitutional tendencies of the Irish orator even then in advance of his ablest contemporaries. This ungracious re- • Lord Sidmouth's Lite, vol. i. "91 |i 1791. JUEIE BILL. 3i] ception probably prevented him from renewing it. Mr. Fox at the present mowient, seized upon the question perhaps as a prop to falling popularity ; and though it be an understood rule for one Member of Parliament before he seizes upon the proposition of another to communicate with him on the sub- ject, Mr. Fox did not think this compliment necessary, although no breach had then (February) taken place between them. He said nothing to Mr. Burke, made no apology or reference, acknowledged no obligation ; but adopted the spirit and substance, and as nearly as possible the words of the bill of 1771, as his own exclusive property.* It is difficult to believe he did not know who the real author was, though ignorance on that point was possible ; but the bill itself from having opposed, and from his late reference to it, he could not have • For the information of the reader the cMef heads of each are subjoined. Jury Bill of 1771. Jury Bill of 1791. I. Whereas doubts and contro- I. Whereas doubts have arisen, versies have arisen concerning the whether on the trial of an indictment rights of the Jurors to try the whole or information for tlie making ov matter charged in indictments, and informations for seditious and other libels ; for settling and clearing the same in time to come, be it enacted, &c. that from and after, &c., the jurors who shall be duly impanelled and sworn to try the issue between the King and the defendant, upon any indictment or information for a seditious libel, or a libel under any other denomination or description, shall, to all intents and purposes, be held and reputed, in law and in right, competent to try every part of tlic matter laid or charged in the said indictment or information, compre- hending the criminal intention of the defendant, and evil tendency of the libel charged, as well as the mere fact of the publication thereof ; and the application by inuendo of blanks, initial letters, pictures, and other devices, any law or usage to the contrary notwithstanding. II. Provided that nothing in the act be cmstrued to prevent or re- strain the judges or justices before whom such issues shall be tried, from instructing the jurors concern- publishing any libel, where an issue or issues are joined between the King and the defendant or defen- dants, on the plea of not guilty pleaded, it be competent to the jury impanelled to try the same, to give their verdict upon the whole matter in issue ; be it therefore declared and enacted, &c. &c., that on every such trial, the jury sworn to try the issue may give a general verdict of guilty or not guilty upon the whole matter put in issue upon such in- dictment or information, and shall not be required or directed by the Court or Judge before whom such indictment or information shall be tried, to find the defendant or de- fendants guilty, merely on the proof of the publication by such defen- dant or defendants, of the paper charged to be a libel, and of the sense ascribed to the same on such indictment or information. II. Provided always, that on every such trial the court or judge before whom such indictment or in- formation shall be tried, shall, ac- cording to their or his discretion 342 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1791. forgotten. Whatever merit therefore be in this measure, far the 'arger proportion beyond all question belongs to Mr. BurVe. The labours of the latter at the commencement of this troubled session had been equally arduous, though less per- sonally agitating than those towards its close. An important constitutional question was mooted, whether the impeachment had not abated by the dissolution of Parliament in 1790 ? He maintained with great vigour and ability that it had not. Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt (who met privately for the last time in consultation on this subject, and the only time since 1783), Mr. Dundas, Mr. Addington the Speaker, Mr. Adam, and the chief talent of both Houses supported the same views. Nearly all the lawyers were of an opposite opinion and among them Mr. Erskine, who laboured hard to support this unconstitutional doctrine. The attempt drew from the chief manager many sarcastic remarks, especially after Erskine, who had been retained in a cause on the other side, and was of course not free from bias, had remarked that the Lawyers were not at home in that House; when Burke said, he be- ing the law upon the matter so in issue, as fully as may be done in other misdemeanors, where the ju- rors do and ought to try the whole matter ; nor to restrain the jurors from finding the matter special, if the law to them shall seem difficult and doubtful. in. Provided also, that nothing herein contained shall be construed to take from the defendant, after verdict found, the right of laying such evidence before the Court in which such verdict was found, as may tend to mitigation or extenua- tion of his said offence, as has been asually practised before this act. give their or his opinion of direc- tions to the jury on the matter in issue between the King and the defendant or defendants, in like manner as in other criminal cases. III. Provided also, that nothing herein contained shall extend or be construed to extend, to prevent the jury from finding a special verdict in their discretion, as in other crimi- nal cases. IV. Provided also, that in ease the jury shall find the defendant or defendants guilty, it shall and may be lawful for the said defendant or defendants to move in arrest of judgment on such ground and ia such manner as by law he or they might have done before the passing of this act, any thing herein to the contrary notwithstanding. 1791. LAWS AND LAWYERS — MABGATE. 343 lieved tliey were not. — "They were birds of a different feather, and only perched in that House on their flight to another — only resting their pinions there for a while, yet ever fluttering to be gone to the region of coronets ; like the Hibernian in the ship, they cared not how soon she foundered, because they were only passengers — their best bower anchor was always cast in the House of Lords." In.anotlier sen- tence he expressed a wish '• to see the country governed by law, but not by lawyers." On the 14tli of February when Erskine, who had already sustained many biting sarcasms, complained of the length of the trial, Burke, after an able defence of the managers upon whom no blame rested in the opinions either of Ministry or Opposition, asked " whether the learned gentlemau remembered, that if the trial had continued three, the oppressions had continued for 20 years ? Whether, after all, there were hour-glasses for measuring the grievances of mankind ? or whether those whose ideas never travelled beyond a nisi prius cause, were better calculated to ascertain what ought to be the length of an impeachment, than a rabbit who breeds six times in a year was to judge of the time proper for the gestation of an elephant ?"' Mr. Fox was not less severe in strictiu'es upon the legal pro- fession. The other measures in which he took part were by an eloquent speech, seconded by Fox and Pitt, in support of Mr. Mitford's bill granting indulgence to protesting Koman Catholic Dissenters, or those who denied the Pope's supre- macy in temporal matters ; on the slave trade ; ou the Rus- sian armament ; and an eloquent one (jMay 12th) on Mr, Grey's motion to inquire into the efiects of imprisonment for debt — a practice to which his humane propensities were at all times alive ; and the legislature of the present day by passing the Insolvent Act has fully adopted his ideas. In the early part of the summer he paid a visit to Mar- gate for the benefit of warm salt-water baths for Mrs. Burke, at which an anecdote is related indicative of his sense of propriety in matters delivered from the pidpit. At church, on one occasion, he was vmexpectedly saluted with a political sermon, which though complimentary to his own views of public affairs, was so little suited in his opinion to the place, that he displayed unequivocal symptoms of disapprobation by rising frequently during its continuance, taking liis hat as if to depart, and reseating himself with an au' of evident 844 LIFE or BURKE. 1791 impatience. " Surely," said he, on another occasion, " the church is a place where one day's truce may be allowed to the dissensions and animosities of mankind." During the stay of the family here, his niece Miss French, relates an instance of the knowledge of small things pos- sessed by her uncle being unexpectedly put to the test. A ball being to take place at the rooms, the ladies who had been little in public in consequence of Mrs. Burke's indis- position, became anxious to ascertain the prevailing colours and modes in what was then a fashionable resort, but were puzzled to find a fit messenger to dispatch upon this impor- tant errand. Mr. Burke overhearing the conversation, im- mediately removed the difficulty by jocularly offering himself as Embassador extraordinary on the occasion ; and when he found that much merriment was excited by the proposal, and some remarks made upon his imfitness for a mission requiring a special knowledge of caps, dresses, flounces, tuckers, and all the paraphernalia of female dress, good-humouredly re- plied, " Come, come, I know more of these things than you give me credit for ; my knowledge must not be undervalued until it is tried." To the rooms accordingly he went duly instructed by the ladies, made his remarks according to in- structions, and returned with a humorous and as it proved correct account of all he had observed. Another rather unusual incident savoured more of the mysteryfrequentlyattached to the proceedings of a statesman. M. De Caloune, then in England, who had become agent or minister for the French Princes at Coblentz, conceived the design of privately consulting Mr. Burke on their interests and that of the French monarchy. With this view he proceeded to Margate, and left an anonymous letter at Burke's residence requesting a private interview, so that the visit should be unknown to the French Embassy. This was at first refused. Further explanations being given, a meeting took place as desired, and the result was a mission of the younger Burke, as the representative of his father's opinions and views on the great question then agitating Europe to Coblentz, with the approbation of Government. " We did not discover the real purpose of this mystery," said one of the ladies many years afterward, " for some time, but supposed it was some- thing connected with France." In August Sir .Josluia Eeynolds published a print of him, by Benedetti, from the best portrait painted by himself in 1791. PRINT OF HIM BY RETKOLDS. 345 1775. Underneath, the President caused to be engraved the following lines from the fifth book of Paradise Lost — the conduct of the good Abdiel ; a strong allusion, to the recent political quarrel, and expressive of his own sense of the pro- ceedings of Opposition, as well as of their treatment of his great friend — " So spake the fervent Ang'el, but his zeal None seconded, as out of season judg'ed, Or singular and rash unmoved, , Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified ■ His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; Nor number nor example with him wrought To swerve from truth, or chrtng'e his constant mind Though sing-le. From amidst them forth he passed Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustain'd Superior nor of violence fear'd auglit ; And with retorted scorn his back he tura'd On those proud towers to swift destruction doom'd." His humility, which if really unaffected, was as distinguished as any other of his qualities took the alarm on this occasion, not having seen the plate uutil a considerable number of im- pressions had been worked off", and he then urged the strongest remonstrances against the application of such lines to him ; insisting as the condition of continued friendship that they should be obliterated, or the plate and all the impressions which had not been distributed, destroyed. Sir Joshua submitted to this determination with great reluctance, and it was so vinrelentiugly carried into effect that very few are now to be found. 80 far did Burke carry tliis feeling, squeamish or affected as some may consider it, that whenever he met with one of these prints in the house of a friend, he used to beg it as a favour in exchange for one without the lines, and it was no sooner obtained than destroyed. At this period also, tlie war of caricatures which had been carried on against him for many years with some wit and address as well as against Pox and others of the Opposition, now turned in some degree in his favour. The Jesuit's dress, by which and his spectacles he had been commonly represented, was exchanged for other forms in which he was drawn as confounding or exposing in debate the apologists of the Eevolution. A collection of these fleeting memorials of the whim or satire of the day, made by Mr. Haviland Burke, affords some amusing scenes in his career, the like- 346 LIFE or BUEKE. 1791. ness being as faitliful as caricature pretends to be, and some of his oratorical attitudes liave been correctly caught. This pictorial wit even when most hostile, far from inflicting pain, frequently became a source of amusement, as the following anecdote will testify. Dining at Lord Tankerville's, the conversation turning on caricatures, a gentleman remarked that he believed Mr. Fox had been ofteuer exhibited in that way than any other man in the kingdom — " I beg pardon," said Mr. Burke, " but I think I may put in my claim to a greater number and variety of exhibitions in that line than my honourable friend." " I hope," observed Mr. Fox, " they give you no uneasiness." " IS^ot in the least," was the reply, " I have I believe, seen them all, laughed at them all, and pretty well remember them all ; and if you feel inclined to be amused and it would not be trespassing on the indulgence of the company, I can repeat the difi'erent characters in which I have figured in the shops, obedient to the powers of the pencil." Accordingly he began, and detailed them all so humoirrously as to keep tlie table in continual laughter diiring the description. CHAPTEE XII. Appeal from the New to the Old Whig^s — French Emigrants — Letter to 5lr. (now Baron) Smith — Writings on French Affairs, and on the Roman Catholic Claims— Sir Joshua Reynolds — Parliamentary Business — Letter on the Death of Mr. Shackleton — War with France — Letter of Mr. R. Burke, Jun. to Mr. Smith. His early friend Shackleton, having visited London in the spring, to attend meetings of the Friends' Society, usually spent as has been said, a portion of time at Butler's Court or in town. The following note was dispatched this year as soon as his arrival was knovsm. " My dear Shackleton, — I shall be most happy to see you. My wife will be in town on this day ; at least I hope so. Why can't you dine with us also ? I have refused two in- vitations this morning to keep myself for you. Tours, most truly, Edmund Bueke." " Friday. About a week after the rupture witli Mr. Fox, a broad intimation in the Morning Chronicle conveyed the wish of 1791. APPEAL rHOM the new to the old WHI09. 317 the party that he should retire from Parliament.* This being deemed gratuitous impertinence, caused the withdrawal ot his name from the Whig Club. He had, however, previously- expressed the wish to seek private life as soon as the pro- ceedings against Hastings permitted an honourable retreat. But as the hint in the newspaper paragraph hinged vipon the purer Whiggism of his great opponent, an answer was deemed necessary to test the alleged correct principles of that day, with those maintained at the Revolution, the era of their supposed greatest purity. For this purpose appeared toward tlie middle of summer, "An Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs." In this pamphlet, which is couched in a calm tone and written in the third person, he successfully accomplishes the purpose of proving that his doctrines were in accordance with the allowed standard of correctness ; and that from these he had not swerved. He defends his conduct in the recent dispute, with moderation of manner and a statement of circumstances, simple, and in themselves andeniable. He maintains his consistency as one of the most valuable parts of his public character, and retraces the general complexion of his exer- tions, as well as the words made use of on several important occasions, in order to prove their conformity with those ad- vanced in that work (the Eellections) which the party had taken so much pains to condemn. " He proposed, he says, to prove that the present state of things in France is not a transient evil, productive, as some have too favourably repre- sented it, of a lasting good, but that tlie present evil is only the means of producing future and (if that were possible) worse evils. That it is not an undigested, imperfect, and crude scheme of liberty, which may gradually be mellowed and ripened into an orderly and social freedom, but that it is so fundamentally wrong as to be utterly incapable of cor- recting itself by any length of time, or of being formed into any mode of polity of which a member of the House of Com- mons could publicly declare his approbation." The decisive boldness of this and many similar predictions and their sub- * May 12, 1791—" The ^reat and firm body of the Whigs of England, true to their principles, have decided on the dispute between Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke ; and the former is declared to have maintained the pure doc- trines by which they are bound together, and upon wliieh they ha^e in- variably acted. The consequence is that Mr. Burke retires from F'irli>v- ment." 348 LIFE OF BUEKE. 179J sequent exact fulfilment, will often astonish the reader in the writings of this extraordinary man. The king and chief ministers took an opportunity of express- ing their approval of the work. He writes to his son — "I was at the levee yesterday, as the rule is, when the king sends you a civil message. Nothing could be more gracious than my re- ception. He told me that he did not think any thing could be added to what I had first written, but he saw he was mis- taken ; there was very much added, and new, and important, and what was most material, what could not be answered." Lords Fitzwilliam and Camden, Sir William Scott, and others expressed their warm approval ; and his old friend Lord Charlemont disagreeing on some points while applauding others, writes in a most afiectionate strain — " Though I ad- mired you as the first of writers, though I love you as the best of men, though there be not aword even in your first pam- phlet which does not if possible increase my admiration for your genius and my love lor youi* heart, &c." The old Whig party while privately commending the work, preserved silence in public— probably from delicacy to their nominal chief. Burke writes to his son in the middle of August — " Not one word from one of our party. They are secretly galled. They agree with me to a tittle ; but they dare not speak out for fear of hurting Fox. As to me, they leave me to myself; they see that I can do myseH" justice. Dodsley is preparing a third edition." Few things afiected his sensibility more at this period, than the hordes of emigrants driven from opulence and re- spectability in their native country, to poverty and obscurity in this, by means of the secret menace or open violence of the sanguinary characters who exercised authority in a large portion of France. For the relief of the poorer class, besides giving as much in the way of relief as his own means per- mitted, he exerted his influence in raising private subscrip- tions among his friends, by appeals to the public soon after- ward, and eventually by applications to government. To others of higher rank, his house and table were open until a more permanent residence could be secured ; and in perform- ing this work of Christian beneficence it should be mention- ed to his honour that some of the pecuniary difliculties with which he had to struggle, were incurred. A late "ft-riter (Mr. Charles Butler,) gives the following account of 1791. EMIGRANTS MADAME DE GENLIB. 349 the almost daily levees of Mr. Burke, to these unfortunate persons, at which he was present : — " Some time in the month of August, 1794, the reminiscent called on that great man, and found him, as he usually was at this time, surrounded by many of the French nobility and ha- ranguing with great eloquence on the horrors of the French revolution, and the general ruin with which it threatened every state in Europe. One of his hearers interrupted him by saying, with somewhat more of levity than suited either the seriousness of the subject, or the earnestness with which Mr. Burke was expressing himself — " Mais enfin, Monsieur, quand est ce que nous retournerons dans la France ?" "Jamais" — was Mr, Burke's answer. — It was a word of woe : he pronounced it in a very impressive manner, and it evidently appaUed the whole audience. After a short silence, during which his mind appeared to belaboiu-ing with something too big for utterance — "Messieurs," he exclaimed, "les fausses esperances ne sont pas une monnoie, que j'ai dans mon tiroir : — dans la France vous ne retournerez jamais." " Quoi done," cried one of the audience, " ces co- quins !" " Coquins ! " said Mr. Burke, " ils sont coquins ; mais ils sont les coquins les plus terribles que le monde a connu !" — " It is most strange," he then said in the English language — " I fear I am the only personin France or England who is aware of the extent of the danger with which we are threatened." " But," said the Reminiscent, wishing to pro- long the interesting conversation, "the Duke of Brunswick is to set all right." — "The Duke of Brunswick !" exclaimed Mr. Burke — "the Duke of Brunswick to do any good ! A war of posts to subdue France !" — Another silence. — "Ce qui me desespere de plus," he then said — " est que quand je plane dans I'hemisphere politique je ne vols gueres une tete minis terielle a la hauteur des circonstauces." Among his visitors from France about this time was the celebrated Madame de Glenlis, who with her suite took up their abode for a short time at Butler's Court, and of whom the following anecdotes became current in the family. Her chamberlain as soon as he had secured a footing in the liouse, communicated that Madame la Comtesse coidd not sleep if the least portion of light gained admission into her bed-room. The darkest was therefore appropriated to her use, but this would not do ; the shutters were fitted afresh to exclude the 350 LIFE or BURKE. 1791 rays of morning, but in vain ; thick window-curtains were superadded to no purpose ; dense bed-curtains closely drawn added another defence, but all ineffectually ; for the light was, or was said to be, still intrusive. — A carpenter was at length added to the establishment, whose bvisiness it was every evening to nail up blankets against every crevice by which it was possible for a ray of light to enter, and in the morning to remove them — and this remedy, happily for the peace of the house and the slumbers of the lady, proved effectual. Madame, however, did not prove so great a favourite with some of the friends of her distinguished host as was expected. Her great ambition or failing, was to do, or be thought to do, every thing ; to possess a universal genius in mind and in mechanical powers beyond the attainments of her own or even of the other .sex. A ring which she wore of curious, indeed exquisite workmanship, having attracted the notice of Sir Joshua Reynolds at Butler's Court, he inquired by what good fortune it had been acquired, and received for answer that it was executed by herself. Sir Joshua stared, but made no reply. " I have done with her," — said he the first time he was alone with Mr. Burke afterwards — " to have the assurance to tell me such a tale ! Why, my dear Sir, it is an antique ; — no living artist in Europe can equal it " One of the pleasing results derived by the subject of our memoir from his literary and parliamentary exertions against the wild politics of the day, was the reasonable train of thought which they tended to excite or to confirm in young men of superior talents and station in life, or intended for the liberal professions. Of these, some might in time be expected to possess authority in the state, and thus through his instrumentality become the future safeguards of the con- stitution. His disciples indeed soon became numerous, in effect and substance at least, if not in name. From several he received testimonies of respect and admiration, such as were gratifying to age to receive, and honourable to youth to pay. Among others was Mr., afterwards Sir "William, Smith and one of the Barons of the Exchequer in Ireland, son of Sir Michael Smith, INIaster of the Eolls in that country, who edu- cated at Christ Church, Oxford, learned there to estimate at their due value the merits of his eminent countryman. To fight therefore under his banners became almost a matter of course. Though young, he had not suftered himself to be 1791. MR W1LLJA.M SAiirn. 351 misled by those illusive speculations promulo;atecl under the name of liberty, so well calculated to impose upon youth; and though a man of talent, he did not deem it necessary to display that fashion of it which waywardly runs counter to the opijiions of the aged, the observant, and the wise of his own time. Possessing a spirit too active to remain neuter or idle in the conflict then raging with what were considered republican principles, he enlisted as an author militant against them, and produced several pieces which attracted considerable notice. One of these, " The Eights of Citizens," he dedicated to Mr. Burke. Its main object was to insist upon what, in the enthusiasm of the moment, seemed to have been almost forgotten, the stability and value of men's social and civil rights, as contradistinguished from those precarious and fantastic ones which Paine had been contending for under the specious title of Eights of Man. The idea was well-timed ; for something seemed requisite to sober men down from the heated contemplation of what was impracticable to grant or pernicious if obtained, to a juster estimate of the substantial good which they already enjoyed. In return for this dedication, the writer received a letter from him at Spa, in which we find his opinion of two writers, who once occupied no small share of public attention, marked by his usual discernment. At this period the Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs was in the press. " Tou talk of Paine with more respect than he de- serves. He is utterly incapable of comprehending his sub- ject. He has not even a moderate portion of learning of any kind. He has learned the instrumental part of litera- ture ; a style, and a method of disposing of his ideas ; \A'ith- out having even made a previous preparation of studv, or thinking, for the use of it. Junius, and other sharply-penned libels of our time have furnished a stock to the adventurers in composition, which gives what they write an air (and but an air) of art and skill."* On his retui'n to England, Mr. Smith was invited to But- ler's Court, and subsequently became the channel of commu- nicating to the Irish people several opinions of his host on * This paseage, as Sir William Smith told me, always appeared to him decisive refutation of tlie conjecture that tlie Letters of Junius were written by ;\Ir. Burke. That question as we have seen, is now fully settled in tb« •egative. 352 LIFE OF BIIEKE. 1791, their religious dissensions as bearing on their political con- dition. He was good enough to oblige me with the follow- ing reminiscences of one of his visits to his great corre- spondent. " There was company in the house at the time, which when Mr. Smith arrived from town, had already sat down at dinner. He entered the dining-room in some measure unobserved, but found a seat at the foot of tlie table beside Mr. Richard Burke the younger, whose premature death in no very long time after, plimged his father into such deep affliction ; and with whom nearer advances to in- timacy were made during the evening than the short period of their acquaintance gave room to expect. This would seem to disprove an assertion sometimes made by persons who saw him but little, or whom he might not possibly like, that his habits to a stranger were so reserved as to present an obstacle to intimacy. The guests present were rather numerous. Among them were M. Cazales, a distinguished member of the first National Assembly of France, and unless the writer's memory deceives him, a Vicomte previous to the abolition of titles ; and M. DiUon, reputed a favourite of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette of France, and commonly known by the appellation ' Le Beau DiUon.' These, at least the former more particidarly, appeared to speak, or even to understand English, very im- perfectly. Mr. Burke, consequently addressed much of his conversation to them in French ; he did not seem to pro- noiuice or speak it well, but was perfectly able to express himself intelligibly, and with reasonable fluency ; and this was manifestly all that he aimed at. He appeared not merely above the vanity of attempting to make a display of profi- ciency, but also above the more excusable feeling of reluc- tance to betray his want of it. The revolutionary events which were then crowding upon the scene seemed very much to engross him, and naturally formed a considerable portion of his conversation. " Dining dinner, a servant intimated to the host the arrival of Mr. Smith, on which he rose from the head of the table where he had been sitting, walked down to the latter, shook hands with and welcomed him, and then returned to his seat. In the manner in which this was done, there appeared to the writer of these recollections, a mixture of something i 1791. SIR w. smith's anecdotes. 353 resembling formality, (or should it be called vieille-cour stateliness ?) with hospitable feelirg and frank good nature, of which he would not find it easy to convey a just idea to the reader. "When the ladies appeared about to quit the room, Mr. Burke stopped them and went out himself. On his return in a minute or two, they retired. He had in the mean time it appeared been examining the degree of heat of the drawing-room, where thermometers were placed for the purpose of ascertaining the temperature with precision. Mrs. Burke was then in a delicate state of health, labouring as the writer apprehends, under a complaint of the rheumatic kind ; and this was the cause of the affectionate and attentive precaution observed by her husband. "Eiehard Burke, the brother of Edmund and Eecorder of Bristol formed one of the company, and appeared to be a person of pleasantry, humour, and ready wit. The younger Richard, Avho however was not in very good health, seemed, if not diffident or reserved, at least disinclined to take part in the general conversation, and rather disposed to confine his communications to those more immediately about him, and to deliver his sentiments in an undertone of voice. The share of his conversation which he gave to Mr. Smith was considerable ; and in its purpoi't as well as quality, extremely gratifying to the latter. His health appeared delicate ; a cold, to all appearance had taken fast hold of him, and fixed upon his chest. Both his father and mother betrayed anxiety on this subject, and might be said to have spoken at him, with reference to his declared intention of going next day to Loudon. The weather, his cough, the little incon- venience which would arise fi'om postponing for a few days his interview with Mr. Pitt, were in turn adverted to. He appeared to the writer of these recollections to cut short these parental anxieties and recommendations, by the at once careless and peremptory way in which he said, ' I shall go, however ;' and in some time after, he suggested to one of the ladies the necessitv of her having her commissions for town ready that night as he purposed to start early in tlie morning. " In the course of the evening after the gentlemen had adjourned to the drawing-room, M. Cazales made, in his at- tempts to express himself in English, moi-e and greater blunders than the writer could have expected. Some of t^iese mistakes he conceives himself to recollect ; but, as they 2 a 354 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1791. would be more vrais than vraisemblables, he thinks it as well not to record them. He seemed to have a desire to amuse and to excite laughter, and he succeeded.* Mr. Burke con- tributed an occasional smile to the general merriment, and nothing more ; and even this was accompanied by a curl of the lip that appeared to doubt whether there was much good taste, whatever there might be of good humour, shown in the proceeding. " Mr. Smith remained for a few days at the house of this eminent man, and repeated his visit more than once after- wards. So great a portion of time however has since elapsed, that he has forgotten much which deserved to be remembered and all of which he would desire to remember, could those bright but flitting thoughts and sentiments which make up the cliarm of conversation with a great genius, be always held fast by the memory, or transfixed at once to paper, Some of the particular occasions also on which a part of what he still retains may have occurred, are in part forgotten. During one of these visits, a morning was devoted by Mr. Burke to walking round the grounds and vicinity with his visitor, discoursing with him upon agricultural subjects, evincing not only much apparent interest in, but as is well known to his friends, displaying much practical knowledge * M. Cazales, who was a good-humoured man, with all the inclination to please and to be pleased, which is often characteristic of his couutrj. had picked up the air, and some of the words of the strange and not very intelligible or elegant old song called " Peas upon a trrncher .'" The words seemed to tickle his imagination, but not knowing them perfectly, he asked Mr. Smith to give them to him accurately. This that gentle- man was unable to do, but wrote the following hasty paraphrase, or ver- sion, with a pencil on the back of a letter, both supplied by his amusing French friend. They answer the air veiy well — ' GarQon apportez moi, moi, Des pois, de petits pois, pois ; Sucres Monsieur ? — C'est mieux, je crois ; Et I'assiette de bois, bois." Several allusions to him as guest at Beaconsfield occur in Burke's corres- pondence. He had been an opponent of Mirabeau in the National Assembly, and bore so strong a resemblance to Mr. Fox as to be mistaken for him more than once in the streets. An anecdote told of his first visit to Burke afterwards proved a source of amusement to himself and Mrs. Haviland. He had often heard of rost-hif as an indispensable dish to all English- men, but with so little idea of its nature as to take up a slice of toast at breakfast and ask whether that was not the great staple of an English stomach of -which he had heard so much ? " 1791. aiK W. SMliHS AKECDUIES. 355 of such matters. He talked likewise of Ireland, and seemed to think; of it, and to recall the scenes of his early life with Bome tenderness of feeling. He pointed out the mansion which had belonged to the family of Penn ; and either showed a house traditionally represented as having been inhabited by the poet Waller, or pointed at the church as containing his remains.* " On the profession of the law which Mr. Smith contem- plated, Mr. Burke made a variety of observations. So far he said, as his experience led to the forming of an opinion, he considered it as not calculated to develop the general, or higher powers of the mind, — an idea which he has likewise thrown out in the speech on American taxation when sketching the character of Mr. George Grenville. He sought to illustrate this view of the matter by some instances which it might be invidious, and does not seem necessary, to record. At the same time he did not seem wholly wedded to his theory ; — said that very possibly it was an erroneous one ; that even were it correct, there Avere several splendid exceptions to the rule ; and that even in cases to which the rule applied, the pursuits and studies of the bar might sharpen the understanding on many points, and did, in fact, render its professors, as far as they permitted their faculties to expand, acute and penetrating. It assisted likewise to give some degree of logical precision to the mode of thinking ; but the general elFect, after all, was to reduce the mind from a wholesale to a retail dealer, in subordinate and petty topics of information. He added, that he understood the members of the Irish bar to be inferior in legal learning to their English brethren, but in other respects to possess some ad- vantages. It is apprehended that a material change in tliis respect has since taken place ; that the Irish bar may now compete with that of England in legal information ; and that on the other hand, the former can no longer claim to superiority over the latter, on other grounds. " It appeared to Mr. Smith, that there was nothing arro gant, peremptory, or dogmatical in the way in which Mr. Burke put forward his opinions, though such charges have been sometimes adduced against his mode of argumentation. Mr. Smith submitted a short tract to nis perusal. Mr. Burke objected to the theory which a paragraph in it im* • Wallefs Jaouse still exists in the neijrhbourliood. 356 LIFE or BUllKE. 1701. plird. The former immediately proposed in deference to yueii authority, to draw his pen across it, but was stopped by Mr. Burke, who said, ' Do not strike it out until I turn the matter more in my mind.' Xext day he made a few changes and interlineations in the manuscript, and said that thus qualified, the theories of the paragraph might stand. These scenes occurred in the study at Butler's Court. "Imperfect as these recollections may be deemed, and thrown together as they are with more haste than the writer could have desired, though prevented by momentary circum- stances from devoting more time to their detail and arrange- ment, they may not be wholly without interest to those who delight in contemplating the great character to whom they relate — in the lines of Canning — ' — Lamented sage ! whose prescient scan, Pierced through foul anarchy's gigantic plan, Prompt to incred'lous hearers to disclose The guilt of France, and Europe's world of woes — Thou on whose name each distant age shall gaze, The miglity sea-mark of these troubled days; Oh ! large of soul, of genius unconfin'd, Born to delight, instruct, improve mankind.' Seldom were his intellectual energies more actively at w ork than in this year, in thinking, in debating, in private discussions, in writing, in corresponding, in imparting information to various parts of Europe, and in diligence in procuring it, of which the mission to Cobleutz was only one instance. His letters alone, if fully collected, would form a considerable volume. Among persons thus favoured were Mr. Trevor, British Minister at Turin ; Madame D'Osmonde, a lady of the Queen of France ; Mr. (or Captain) Woodford, an agent in Paris ; Chevalier Biutinnaye, relative of the Bishop of Auxerre ; Chevalier Eivanol, an active Eoyalist in the South of France ; the Marquis de Bouillie, known as a military commander in the West Indies in the late war and who tried in vain to aid the escape of the king from Paris ; his brother Richard ; liis son, who had started on his mission early in August, and returned at tlie end of September, to whom his letters were long and frequent ; Lord Camden ; Sir AVilliam Scott ; Lord Auckland ; Lord Charlemont ; Duke of Dorset ; sketch of a letter to the Queen of France ; Mr. Hely Hutchinson ; Monsieur, afterwards Louis XV LI 1. , 1 I* 1791. COEEESPONDENCE — PITT's ^PIXIOXS. 3o7 Lord Fitzwilliam ; Mr. Dundas ; Dr. Laurence ; several relatives in Ireland ; and Catherine of Russia. A summary of these would far exceed the limits due to biography ; but they evince the workings of his mind on the great events passing before him, while he confesses and laments his in- ability to impress either on Opposition or on Ministry the certainty of those coming events which he alone, it ap- peared, clearly foresaw. Occasionally he dined with Mr. Dundas, Lord Grenville, Lord Hawkesbury, and Mr. Pitt — with the former on one occasion not a word of politics was mentioned all the evening — nor with tlie latter the slightest progress made in winning him over to his views. Lord Sidmonth, then speaker and close friend of the Minister, who formed one of a party of four toward the end of Sep- tember 1791, thus tells an anecdote of the continued con- viction of the head of the Government, that neither nor other danger was to be apprehended from France; " After dinner, Burke was earnestly representing the danger which threatened this country from the contagion of French principles, when Pitt said, ' Never fear, Mr. Burke ; depend on it we shall go on as we are tiU the day of judgment.' ' Very likely, sir,' replied Mr. Burke ; ' it is the day of no judgment that I am afraid of.' " * When eventually the junction of the Portland party witli Ministry took place, Mr. Pitt asked several of the principal members to dine, among whom was Burke ;— "As they rose from table," said Lord Sidmouth, who was present, "after mucli desponding conversation on the gloomy aspect of public affairs, Mr. Burke, in an encouraging tone addressed to them the following line from the ^neid as his parting advice — " Durate, et vosmet rebus servate secundis." In December, keeping his eye steadily fixed on the pro- gress of the Revolution as the great centre of interest to a statesman, he drew up a paper, entitled, " Thoughts on French Affairs" which was submitted to the private consideration of Ministry, and is marked by the same spirit of fore-know- ledge as his other writings on this subject. He arrives at three conclusions, of which subsequent experience has raught us the truth — That no counter-revolution in France was to be expected from internal causes only ; that the * Life of Lord Sidmouth, vol. i. 358 LIFE OF BUEKi:. 1792. longer the systeir existed the stronger it would become both within anc without ; and that while it did exist, the interest of the riders of that country woidd be to disturb and distract all other governments. The communication made to him from ihe Empress of Russia, through Count de Woronzow and Mr. Fawkener the British Minister already alluded to, produced in return a dignified and complimentary letter, dated from Beaconsfield, November the 1st, insinuatuig forcibly the necessity for Her Majesty adopting, by active exertion as well as by declara- tion, the cause of all Sovereigns, all churches, all nobility, and all society ; that the debt due by her predecessors to Europe for civilizing a vast empire, should now be repaid by that empire to rescue Europe from the new barbarism. An air of doubt however pervades this letter as if he had some suspicion of her zeal in the cause ; and if so, the result proved he did not mistake her character, as she did nothing and probably nexer meant to do any thing, against revolutionary France. Catherine, who possessed many of the qualities of a great Monarch, was the most selfish of politicians. To crime and selfishness in fact she owed her crown ; and feeling that no danger to it existed among her own subjects where the first elements of freedom were un- known, she had not generosity enough to step forward and assist others in distress when there appeared no prospect of immediate profit from the exertion. The purpose of her communication to Mr. Burke, was probably to extract from him a letter of admiration and praise, being always ambitious of the notice of the great literary names of Europe ; but in returning the courtesy due to a Sovereign and a woman, it may be questioned whether he did not inflict some violence on his inclination. Of her private character there could be but one opinion. To the general politics of lier court as evinced towards Turkey and Poland, he was no greater friend ; particularly in the business of the partition of the latter, of which he avowed that honest detestation which every man not a profligate politician, or robber by profession, must ever entertain. The grievances of Irish Eoman Catholics exciting in- creased discussion in that country, he was solicited to state to Ministry and to support, their claims for relaxation of tlie penal laws. His son also was appointed their agent, auJ 1 1792. LETTER TO SIE HERCULES LANGRISHE. 359 early in January 1792, proceeded to Ireland to influence their proceedings by such moderate counsels as might give effect to his father's exertions at home. Ere this took place, the latter had commenced writing the " Letter to Sir Her- cules Langrishe, Bart., M.P.'' as auxiliary to his son's mission. It bears date January 3rd, 1792, enforces the policy of removing the chief restrictions to which they were subject, particularly that which denied them the elective franchise, and appeals to the recollection of his friend whether his opinions upon the question were not as fully matured and as strongly expressed thirty-two years before (1760) as at that moment. So successful were his exertions, aided ii* part by those of other friends, that a bill was speedily introduced into the Irish Parliament by which the profes- sion of the law hitherto interdicted to Roman Catholics became open to them ; intermarriages with Protestants legalized ; restraints upon their education, and the obstruc- tion to arts and manufactures shewn in limiting the number of apprentices to masters of that persuasion, removed. Next year (1793) solely through his untiring counsel and exertions and after a formidable fight with the Irish Grovern- ment of which ample evidences exist in his correspondence, he gained for them the elective franchise. It has been the fate of political leaders in Ireland, not to have their designs approved, or comprehended, by persons of the same class in England, either from some radical diflerences of opinion, conduct, or temperament, or from the opposite views which the immediate seat of government and a dependency of such government, may deem it their interest to entertain. On this occasion they were not more fortunate than on others. Young Burke, though from various causes of prepossession, inclined to take the most favourable views of the leading men of the day there, found something in their conduct not to his taste. He had reasons perhaps for being fastidious. To moderation, good sense, and sterling talents, he united a firmness and rectitude of character which led him to augur ill of a country where what he considered contrary qualities prevailed among some of her chief people, which the following extract of a letter to Mr. Smith, evinces — " The great disorder of this country (Ireland) seems to me to consist in the complication of its politics ; and I observe a very dangerous fluctuation 360 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1792. and unsteadiness in the opinions and conduct of most of its public men." In the spring of the year (23rd February) died Sir Joshua Reynolds, one of the moat valued of his friends, bequeathing him in return for the trouble of executorship, tlie sum of £2000, and also cancelling a bond for the same amount lent on a former occasion. This proof of regard was a legacy paid to thirty-five years of close and uninterrupted intimacy, in vrhich many of their friendships, many of their sentiments and feelings were the same. A rumour has pretty generally prevailed that the President was indebted to the pen of Mr. Burke for the substance of his celebrated Lectures on Painting ; but of this there is no proof, not even that he corrected tliem, though such an unimportant act of friendship is not improbable. The suspicion however is unfair to the artist. No man of talents should be deprived of the honest fame due to him, but on the most incontro- vertible evidence. It is no doubt probable that he profited as other men profit by the conversation and experience, by the society and brilliant effiisions of a vigorous and original mind thrown out upon art as upon other subjects, traces of which are supposed to be found in the lectures by some of those staunch literary pointers whom nothing in the shape of coincidence escapes. After all, these are of no moment and do not detract in any degree from the painter's merit. " What the illustrious Scipio was to Lelius," says Mr. Malone, " the all-knowing and all-accomplished Burke was to Reynolds." A passage in one of Barry's letters informs us of the uses to which an able artist in the higher vralk ot his profession could put the overflowings of such an intellect, scattered as they were with a profusion which might render tlie recollection of his own offspring by Reynolds from that (if another not always practicable. Yet it is only a superior mind that can make use of another superior mind. — Writing from Rome he says — " It is impossible to describe to you what an advantage I had in the acquaintance of Mr. Burke; it was a preparative, and facilitated my relish for the beautiful things of the arts here : and I will afiirm from experience, that one gentleman of a literary turn and delicate feelings for the ideal, poetical, and expressive parts of the art, is likely to be of the greatest service to a yoimg artist.'' Mr. Burke first ♦iuggeeted to Sir Joshua the well-known picture of Ugoliuo; 1792. DEATH A>D CHAEACTEK OF EETNOLDS. 361 while iu return he entertained so favourable an opinion of the painter's judgment and discrimination as a philosopher as to submit to liim in manuscript the Keflections on the Eevolution in France. Mr. Burke directed the imposing ceremonial of the funeral ; but when at the conclusion of the day he attempted to return thanks in the name of the family to the Members of the Academy for the attention shown to the remains of their late President, his feelings found vent in tears : and unable to utter a "word, was obliged to give up the attempt after several fruitless efforts.* A character of the deceased, drawn up for the newspapers a few hours after his death, was immediately and truly attri- buted to his pen ; and has been universally admired for a felicity of thought and elegance of diction rarely equalled by our finest writers on their finest subjects, and which on a topic where he felt any interest seems ever to have guided his pen. "It is," says the learned Seward, "the eulogium of Parrhasius pronounced by Pericles — it is the eulogium of the gi'eatest painter by the most consummate orator of his time." Even a virulent enemy terms it " as fine a portrait as Heynolds ever painted. "t * He became g-uardian lo Miss Palmer, Sir Joshua's niece and heiress, afterwards Lady Inchiquin and JSIarchioness of Thomond. When the niarriag'e articles were brought to be signed, Mr. Buike addressed her in an impressive speech applicable to her intended chanjre of condition, which, however, agitated her so much as to render her utterly incapable of holding the pen. Every effort was made to calm her in order to procure the signature, but in vain ; all bis soothing powers were exerted endearingly and perseveringly without effect ; and the party separated for the time unable to accomplish the purpose of tlieir meeting, t " His illness was long, but borne with a mild and cheerful fortitude, without the least mixture of any thing irritable or querulous, agreeably to the placid and even tenor of his whole life. He had, from the beginning of his malady, a distinct view of liis dissolution ; and he contemplated it with that entire composure, which nothing but the innocence, integrity, and usefulness of his life, and an unaftt-cted submission to the will of Providence, could bestow. In this situation be had every consolation from family tenderness, which his own kindness to his family had indeed well deserved. " Sir Joshua Reynolds was on very many accounts, one of the most me- morable men of his time. He was the first Englishman who added the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country. In taste, in grace, in facility, in happy invention, and in the richness and harmony oi colouring, he was equal to the great masters of renowned ages. In portrait he went beyond them ; for he communicated to that department of the art in whiuli English artists are the most engaged, a varictj', ii 3G2 LIFE or BURKE. 1792. The question of tlie Slave Trade bcmg discussed in April, he forwarded to Mr. Dundas, " Sketch of a Negro Code,'' drawn up in 1780, when as he observes, the abolition seeming altogether chimerical on account of the strong party opposed to it, he aimed at carrying into effect the next best remedies which could be devised — that of subjecting the trade to strict regulations, and by legislative enactments ameliorating the condition of the slaves in the islands. On this project much inquiry, consideration, and labour were expended. It is not the mere draught of a common act of Parliament, but an extensive system, coherent in its parts and bearings, and does honour to the benignant spirit of one who was ever active in the service of sutfering humanity. During the session, he exerted himself less than on former occasions, being now he said, a worn-out veteran desirous to retire, and only coming forward now and then as veterans are accustomed to do, when the garrison of the constitution was exposed to attack. A measure considered of this nature was a notice of motion by Mr. Grrey (3Uth April, 1792), for Parliamentary Reform, brought forward at tlie instigation of persons who had taken that measure under their special protection as "Friends of the People." This fancy, and a dig'nity derived from the hig'her branches, which even those who professed them in a superior manner did not always preserve when they delineated individual nature. His portraits remind the spec- tator of the invention of history and of the amenity of landscape. In painting portraits he appears not to be raised upon that platform, but to descend to it from a higher sphere. His painting's illustrate his lessons, and his lessons seem to have been derived from his painting's. He possessed the theory as perfectly as the practice of his art. To be such a painter, he was a profound and penetrating- philosopher. "In full happiness of foreig-n and domestic fime, admired by the expert in art and by the learned in science, courted by the great, caressed by sovereign powers, and celebrated by disting'uished poets, his native hu- mility, modesty, and candour never forsook him, even on suiprise or provocation ; nor was the least degi-ee of arrogance or assumption visible to the most scrutinizing- eye in any part of his conduct or discourse. " His talents of every kind — powerful from nature, and not meanly cultivated by letters — his social virtues in all the relations and in all the habitudes of life, rendered him the centre of a very g-reat and unparalleled variety of agreeable societies, which will be dissipated by his death. He had too much merit not to provoke some jealousy, too much innocence to provoke any enmity. The loss of no man of his time caa be felt with u:ore sincere, general, and unmixed sorrow. "Hail! and farewell!" '792. EEFOKAl — UMIAIUA^S. 303 issociatlou he stigmatized as of dangerous tendency. " The object at which they aimed," he said, "was little better; i;he motives of many concerned in it were doubtless inno- rent, but the way they went to work was as decidedly '.vrong. The sense of the people had not been in the least declared on the measure ; no specific grievance had been pointed out, no specific remedy assigned, and unless these were explicitly set forth, there might be innovation at- tempted, but it would not be reformation. While he could raise a voice or an arm to prevent it, that House should never assimilate to the National Assembly. ]n that body there were seven hundred members, four hundred of whom were country lawyers, three hundred of no description that he could name ; out of the whole, he believed there were not a dozen who possessed in any one way a himdred pounds per annum. He trusted to the good sense of the people of England never to permit such a mob, nor any thing resem- bling it, to usurp the sacred office of their legislature." The next question was on the motion of Mr. Fox, May 11th, to repeal certain statutes, bearing upon the Unitarian body. An outline of this speech seemingly drawn up after its delivery as allusions are made to some points advanced in the debate, appears in the tenth volume of his AVorks. He opposed their claims on the ground of being avowed enemies of the Church. They had lately accused themselves of dis- graceful timidity in concealing their sentiments, and now were to atone for that timidity by extraordinary boldness. They had openly declared their hostility to the establish- ment. They had confessed their determination to propagate their doctrines. He urged that from their new lights in theology, and new lights in politics, which latter had been if possible more ostentatiously and offensively proclaimed than the former, they did not present any sufficient claim to the favourable consideration of the House. The motion was lost by 1-12 to 63. The proclamation issued some time afterward against seditious writings, elicited strong symptoms of differences of opinion among the great body of Opposition which it was evident must soon lead to a disjunction. The old Whigs, or the Duke of Portland's friends wholly disagreed en most of the topics of the day with the new, or the followers of Mr Fox. A nominal union still existed between tliem in the House, 364 LIFE OF BURKE. 1792, But the dangers of tlie country becoming daily more apparent, and the predictions of their more ancient ally and leader, Mr. Burke, being day after day verified, impressed a gradual and general belief in that connexion of the greater prudence and patriotism of following his opinions. In the mean time, the characteristic caprice, ill-temper, or ambition of the Chancellor, Lord Thurlow, — who often opposed the measures of Mr. Pitt in the Cabinet and in the House of Lords without proposing any thing himself— in- duced the Minister to procure his dismissal. An intimation was likewise conveyed to the Portland party of his wish for its junction wdth the government ; and as it was desirable that all the talents of the country should be engaged in its service, he did not object to include Mr. Pox. This ar- rangement was particularly pressed upon the minister by Burke, who also pressed the policy of acceding to it upon Fox through indii'ect channels ; and the fact is honourable to his candour, his patriotism, and even his friendship. Tet he was frequently accused while thus employed, of being that gentleman's personal enemy. Mr. Fox refused to accede to the proposition unless Mr. Pitt first resigned the head of the Treasury, when they might then treat upon terms of perfect equality and enter the Cabinet as new men — a piece of humility not justly to be expected from the minister, or from any other man holding the same situation. The negotiation consequently for the present proved fruitless. Lord Lough- borough and Mr. Dundas were the parties who discussed the projected junction, of which an account is given in September by Edmund to William Burke, still in India. All the threatening symptoms of the spring increased during the summer of 1792. Incendiary pamphlets to a large extent, constant communication of the clubs of London with those of Paris, and affiliated societies in some country towns, openly advocated Eepublicanism. In Paris, anarchy pro- ceeding in its usual course became at length open massacre ; followed by the dethronement of the King, the institution of a republic, and encouraged by the repulse of the Duke of Brunswick from the frontier, with a paternal invitation to all other countries to follow the example. In November, while at Bath, Mr. Burke drew up another im])ortant State paper, " Heads for Consideration on the Fresent State of Affairs" distinguished by the same pro- i792. COBUESPONUENCE. ' 905 found sagacity as the others, copies of which were sent to the King, Ministers, and chief members of the Portland party, as lie had done with the "Thoughts" of the preceding year. Its aim is to point ovit that war, however pushed off for the moment, was inevitable ; that nothing could be done conjointly or singly by Austria and Prussia, or any other continental power, with effect against Prance, excepting they liave other aid. " That there never was, nor is. nor ever will be, nor ever can be," any decided impression made upon her of which England is not the directing power — With what truth time has shewn us ; though Mr. Pitt had just before said in the House there would be no war. Tlie whole paper, thrown off" without finish or participation in the know- ledge of official secrets, displays the reflective discrimination of a great statesman as correctly as if they had been actually under his eye. While advancing life and impaired friendships made him less active in Parliament, they did not in the least diminish his epistolary labours. These on the contrary, seemed in- creased and strengthened. French affairs were largely dwelt upon in letters to Lord Grenville, Mr. Dundas, several French correspondents, and to his son, then in Dublin pushing on the Eomanist claims ; the latter being the subject of long com- munications, some of which were published many years ago from another quarter. Thus busy discussing the greatest affairs of nations, the smaller concerns of life and literature were not neglected. His friend Mr. PhiHp Francis asked for an inscription on a former Master of St. Pauls School, sanng, " Several of us pretended scholars have been hammering our brains for an inscription, but what signifies malleation with- out fire? Be so good as to lend us a little of yours." Malone consults him on a Latin motto for an engraved card of tlianks to the distinguished attendants at Sir Joshua's funeral. Lady Inchiquin, Sir Joshua's niece, requests some- thing more than he had ah'cady srjd on her uncle, and his collection of pictures. Tiie King of Poland sends him a medal, which extracts an eloquent letter of thanks. To his brother member for Malton, JNlr. AVeddell, he enters at length upon the hostile conduct of his late party — his exertions to raise Mr. Fox in the estimation of the Dissenters ; the ingra- titude received in return ; the coldness experienced by him from Carlton House, through the means of liis former friends j 366 LfFE OF BURKE. 1792, the disapprobation expressed by the Prince of liis book, because nothing had been said in it of his right to the Eegency, al- though he had ah'eady fought that battle fully and zealously elsewhere. And he concludes of his late Whig allies, " They have endeavoured completely and fund-amentally to ruin me and mine, in all the ways in which it is in the power of man to destroy the interests and objects of man, whether in his friendships, his fortunes, or his reputation." While thus angry as a politician, we must not forget him as a considerate and good man. He remembers nearly at the same moment, two old reduced ladies in Ireland, and Sir Joshua's legacy, and thus writes to his son, " Now, my dearest Eichard, I have destined a twentieth of what is fallen to us to these two poor women — fifty to each. * * God knows how little we can spare it." The first day of the Session, 1792-3, December 13th, brought him forward again, " not," he said, " as the defender of Opposition, or of Ministry, but of the country." Mr. Fox still retained, and enforced with a warmth that astonished and confounded many devoted admirers, his former Apinions as to the quiet state of the country, the total absence of any spirit in it hostile to the Constitution or Government, and that the alarm arose from artful designs and practices et Ministers ; moving an amendment to the address to that eftect. On the report being brought up, he again proposed an amendment to avert the calamities of wa,r with France, by entering into negociation with her rulers. This Mr. Burke replied to, urging that could war be avoided it were advis - able, but he saw a spirit at work that would leave them no option — that he could not recognise a tittle of that peaceful spirit which those persons were stated to possess, wlio, with- out the formality of a public declaration, were as hostile to the government, property, and respectability of England as they well could be. Between the nations, there was at that moment a moral war, which must soon become an actual war. Disregarding the general feeling, Mr. Fox brought forward on the third day of this struggle (15th December), a motion for sending a Minister to Paris, to treat with the Provisional Government. To this likewise the member for Malton opposed a negative. He complained of being singled out for acrimony and invective whenever the French Revo- lution was mentioned, as if in the eyes of Opposition he had 1792. THE DAGGEB SCENE. 367 committed an inexpiable crime by attacking it. He de- fended Grovernmentfrom principle, he said, not from interest. The sentiments uttered by Mr. Fox on these occasions. and the pertinacity of his line of conduct, gave oiFence tc many of the Opposition, who either were less personally attached, whose opinions had undergone a change, or whc like Burke, preferred the performance of a great public duty to any private consideration whatever. Among these was Lord yheffield, who from partiality to Mr. Fox, or trom not perceiving at first to what his opinions tended, it will be remembered, was a principal cause of the rupture with Burke. He now went so far as to say, that he was ashamed of ever having entertained any enthusiasm for the right honourable mover of such a measure as that now recommended. Others, if less strong, were not less explicit in their terms of dis- approbation. While his opinions continued thus to gain ground, an in- cident turned attention from his matter to his manner. A bill was introduced for the regulation of Aliens, in favour of which he made a long and able speech (28th December), on the principle that the ministers of a monarchy could not and ought not to have their hands tied behind them, while the emissaries of republicanism, regicide, and atheism, poured into their country with the design to destroy it. In com- menting upon a decree of the Convention, by which the system of fraternizing was to be propagated by the sword, he mentioned the circumstance of three thousand daggers having been ordered at Birmingliam, of which seventy had been delivered ; and as a tangible illustration of his statement drew forth a concealed one which he flung indignantly upon the floor of the House. " TJiis," said he, pointing to the weapon, "is what you are to gain by an alliance with France; wherever their principles are introduced, their practice must follow : you must equally proscribe their tenets and their persons from our shores." So unusual a peroration if not efiective within doors, created a great deal of notice without, and was stigmatized as a vile theatrical flourish, a preme- ditated pantomimic trick unworthy of a great orator, and in the worst taste. That similar displays have had effect ic enforcing an argument, the history of oratory may show but in this instance we have indubitable evidence that there was m it very little premeditation. " The history of it," 368 LIFE OK BUEKE. 1703. (the dagger) says Sir Charles Lamb, " is, that it was sent to a manufacturer at Birmingham as a pattern, with an order to make a large quantity like it. At that time the order seemed so suspicious that instead of executing it, he came to London and called on my father, (afterwards Sir James Bland Burgess, then Foreign Under Secretary) at the Secretary of State's Office to inform him of it, and ask his advice ; and he left the pattern with him. Just after, Mr. Burke called on his way to the House of Commons, and upon my father mentioning the thing to him, borrowed the dagger to show in the House. They walked down to the House together, and when Mr. Burke had made his speech, my father took the dagger again, and kept it as a curiosity."* The course of nature was now exacting from him the hardest tax which age has to pay, that of seeing our friends gradually dropping into the grave around us, without our possessing the elasticity of spirit necessary to form new connexions. Shortly before this period, he had lost his early friend Shackleton, whose occasional visits and letters kept alive that ardour of affection with which the associates of our youth are regarded in subsequent life, and never perhaps so tenderly as when from increasing infirmity their tenure of life becomes daily more precarious. To the letter of Mrs. Leadbeater, announcing the event, he wrote an aifectionate reply, in September, sketching the character of her father with ti'uth and discrimination. Tlie war which he had so long predicted as inevitable, but wliich Mr. Pitt did not foresee and would not till the last admit to be probable, was now at hand, precipitated perhaps by the opening of the Scheldt, by the promise of assistance from the J^ational Convention to all people wlio should wish to throw oft' the tyranny of Kings, and particularly by tlie execution of Louis XVI. Mr. Burke was not pleased with the assignment of the former motive, deeming it weak in comparison with some others.— "A war for the Scheldt!" exclaimed he in his forcible phraseology as soon as it was mentioned; " A war for a cham — r p — t !" — War at this moment however was no longer matter of choice with the Ministry, being formally declared against England by the Republic on the 1st of February. Wilberforce thus reports * Ute of Lord Eldon, l84(i, vol. i. p li-e. t Life, vol. ii. p. 11. * 1793. PITT AVD rOI ON THE WAR. 369 political opinions at the moment " It will be a very short war," said Mr. Pitt and his friends, " and certanily ended in one or two campaigns." " No, Sir," said Mr. Burke when this language was addressed to him, " it will be a long war, and a dangerous war, but it must be undertaken."* A dis- tinct line of political feeling, though not of formal separa- tion now existed between the new Whigs and the old, leav- ing Mr. Fox not only reduced in numbers in Parliament, but greatly impaired in moral strength and credit in general opinion ; for his remaining friends though unquestionably men of talents, possessed not in any sense, the confidence of the country. It has been matter of surprise and regret to many moderate politicians, how that emiueut man could so perseveriugly re- sist and condemn a measure which was in itself unavoidable and supported by the general, and as it proved in the result, just judgment of the country, or how he could have acted otherwise than Mr. Pitt did, had lie been himsielf Minister. It may be possible that had Mr. Pitt led the Opposition, the spirit so inherent in political rivalry might have induced him to do as Mr. Fox did ; or in other words, that with the dif- ference of men, the results to the country would have been similar. In saying this, no reflection is intended against the strict integrity of principle of either ; but we are all even the best iutentioned, too prone to shape opinions to circum- stances. It is therefore difficult for the most conscientious statesman to view with the same degree of favour or through the same medium, measures originated by himself or by those to whom he is politically opposed. He will rarely estimate public afl^airs and measures by the same standard whether he be in or out of power. Had Mr. Pox been in office, his views, his feelings, his prejudices, his judgment, would have differed with the difference of his public relations to the government. His anxieties would have been greater; his apprehensions more easily excited ; his penetration more sharp and sensitive by the very weight of his charge ; he could scarcely have seen or heard, it may be said, with the same eyes and ears as when at the head of Oppo- sition ; and all this without sacrifice of principle. The workings of th ■ mind, arising from heavy responsibility, nearer views, better information, and more direct ct)ntact • Life, vol. ii. u. 1 1. 2 B 370 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1793. with the machinery of the state and of the real rather than the ostensible grounds of its proceedings, are so imper- ceptible very often in their operation, that a statesman is liable to be wound gradually round from the opinions he may have formerly entertained to others of a different de- scription, almost without being aware of the change ; and is sometimes surprised, or indignant when told he is incon- sistent with himself. This allowance ought to be made for public men, though it is generally denied them. Mr. Pitt it is certain, Jike Mr. Fox, had no appetite for war, or as we have seen, belief in its approach. His glories had been hitherto peculiarly of the peaceful cast — his popu- larity acquired in a state of prosperity and trauquillity. War might destroy, but was not likely to add to them. His interest therefore was to avoid hostilities ; and so well did he know this and desire by all the means in his power to accomplish it, that he could not be brought to believe what Mr. Burke had repeatedly told him almost constantly for more than two years before, that war must inevitably ensue. Far from precipitatiug that event, he staved it off until the last moment when no alternative was left him. How j\lr. Fox placed in the same situation could have avoided the storm, it is impossible to conjecture. He was above state quackery, and never professsd to have discovered any nostrum by which to subject raging political madmen whe- tlier at home or abroad, to the dominion of quiet and reason. He was indeed, in many respects an easy man, a friendly man, an illustrious man, with great capacity of head, and much of the milk of human kindness in his heart ; but the foreign race of revolutionists showed no particular attention to individual character except in cutting off the heads of those who enjoyed it ; and there is no reason to believe that their disciples here would have been more merciful. Admitting tliat his vigilance on this point was greater than he avowed, it is not improbable that as Minister, he might have parleyed a little longer with the Eepublic; he might have withheld some of our reasonable demands; he might have for the forlorn hope of peace, overlooked slighter affronts ; he might stUl have tolerated tiie revolution, and constitutional, and corresponding societies, and their affiliations ; he might have submitted some time longer to impoi'tatioJAS of the emissaries and principles of anarchy ; but as the demands on his patience rose so even his coa* 1703. TUE REVULL"T102'd's fiEri.r. 579 interests, which was rather an alliance than subjection of one to the other, for both continued to be principals : Burke being on many occasions the actuating spirit, and Fox the public leader of the party. It is certain that whatever the one had determined to do, the other found it commonly expedient to approve. There rnay be a question therefore among those best acquainted with political history whether Mr. Fox would ever have arrived at such pre-eminence in his party or in the country as he possessed, had it not been for the active aid and counsel of Burke.* 'No effect — certainly no immediate influence — was induced by this communication on the mind of the Duke. Instead of putting the " Observations," away for future perusal as recom- mended by his correspondent he confesses to being " seduced" to read them and the accompanying letter immediately ; and his reply from Welbeck (10th October 1793) candidly avows that he was wdiolly unconvinced by the reasoning of the paper. " It is no disgrace to me to admit — and were it so I should feel no difficulty in avowing it to you and indeed to the world— that my imagination, my feelings, my judg- ment, my conclusions, do not and cannot keep pace with yours. I have not the same sensibility, I have not the same fears, I have not the same confidence ; but I want not a day of compulsory reflection to make me see the horrors of Jacobinism and the dut^' of exerting my best efforts (those I mean which from their regularity and steadiness are * Of his fondness to applaud, or as somebody has termed it, to puff his pupil, as much on private as on public occasions, the followiu;,'' exti-act of a letter to his cousin Na;'E OF HIS SON's LIFE. 39fi rustlmg of the wind through the trees ;" and immediately with a voice as clear as ever in his life, with the most correct and impressive delivery, and a more than common ease and grace of action, he repeated three beautiful lines from Adam's morning hymn in Milton. You will certainly an- ticipate me in the lines ; they are favourite lines of his father's, and were so, as I recollect, of his poor uncle, to whom he was then going with these very lines on his tongue. " His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow. Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye pines. With ev'ry plant in sig'n of worship wave." He began again, and again pronounced the verses with the same happiness of elocution and gesture, waved his head in sign of worship, and worshipping, sunk into the arms of his parents as in a profound and sweet sleep. " Afflicted as I have been for this year past with the ap- prehension of this calamity, I now on calm consideration thank God for all the circumstances of his end ; since his departure was fixed in the inscrutable purposes of Provi- dence. I thank God, that his father and mother did not seriously feel his danger till the last week of his life ; I thank Him that they had some short time of preparation ; and I thank Him also that they were not doomed for whole months, aa the physician had expected, to languish and con- sume themselves with unavailing sorrow over a beloved, and justly beloved son, dying by inclies before their eyes. " The behavioiu" of our two poor remaining friends is such as might be expected from them L'v those who rightly know both their sensibility and strength of reason : though perhaps for the exertion of the latter vmder so severe a dis- pensation, we hardly gave them sufficient credit. During the first day, the father was at times, as I have heard, truly terrible in his grief. He occasionally worked himself up to an agony of affliction, and then bursting away from aK control, would rush to the room where his son lay, and throw himself headlong, as it happened, on the body, the bed, or the floor. Tet at intervals he attended and gave directions relative to every little arrangement, which their situation rendered necessary, pleasing himself most with thinking what would be most consonant to the living wishes and afiections of his lost son. At intervals too he would ai'gue 400 LIFE Of BUEKE. 1794! against the ineffectual sorrow of his wife. She, on the other hand, sometimes broke into fits cf violent weeping, sometimes showed a more quiet but a more determined grief, and at other times again a more serene composure than her husband. Instead of dashing herself down, like him, she only lamented, that when on Thursday, by an accidental Ml, she sprained her wrist, ' it had not been her neck :' but when her husband attempted to persuade her, that she had no business still to remain in the house, she answered steadily, ' No, Edmund ; while ho remains here I will not go.' I am happy, however, to inform you that on Saturday evening she took and gave a promise that neither of them would ever enter more the chamber where their son lay. They have repented ; both however have fulfilled their mutual promises, and she has consented, notwithstanding her resolution above mentioned, to leave the house this day. " This letter is longer than I intended, or than my time can well afl:ord. But you, I am sure, will not think it too minute : you wdll rather find ten thousand omissions of things, into which you would inquire : and I perhaps could have added many things, if I had stopped to consider what I should write. Yet on the whole, if I can trust the in- formation of Mr. and Mrs. Nugent and Mrs. Carey, com- pared with what I received from the servant of our departed friend, I believe I have given you a sufilcieutly correct notion in general of the circumstances attending the fatal event, as well as the present situation of things in that miserable ruin of a family. On Saturday, I understand, that I shall probably be at Beaconsfield.- — Oh ! God ! on what an occasion ! — perhaps for the last time, except in transient visits to those friends there, whom I shall ever esteem." " P.S. I have just received a note from Dr. King. He says, ' none or little change yet for the better.' Dupont, who brought it to me, tells me that after poor Eichard sunk down, he w^as undressed, and put to bed, where poor Jane Burke, rubbing him with vinegar, or any other such vain methods of recalling his fleeting spirit, received one last sigh, and with her own hand then closed his eyes for ever." On the 7th August he says : - " At last I have seen poor Burke. His grief was less intolerable than I had sujjosed. He took n e by surprise, 1794. LETTEES OF BK. LAU11E5ICI. 401 or I should then have avoided him. He told me he was bringing his mind by degrees to his miserable situation, and he lamented that he went to see his son after death, as the dead countenance has made such an impression on his imagination that he cannot retrace in his memory the features and air of his living Richard. He did not stay long in the room, but from Dr. King, whom I also saw last night for the first time, I learned more particulars. He confirmed the accounts which I gave you in my former letters, with some slight difiereuces. His father was alone in the room wlien he walked in as I informed you, but the subsequent conversation did not pass there. After staying a very short time, poor Richard returned to his bed-chamber and laid himself on his bed. It was then the conversation took place in presence of both his parents, and when he asked if it rained, his father, and not himself, explained what the cause really was — the wind rustling through the trees. On which, after twice repeating the lines from Milton, he sunk into the arms of his parents, and a short struggle ensuing, Mrs. Burke w^as prevailed upon to retire, till Dr. King announced to her that all was over. Tester- day, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Burke ate their dinner ; but he with more appetite comparatively than she did. He has in general slept pretty well. She I believe not so well. William Burke has come, but has not yet seen them. He weeps like a child. " I went or sent yesterday to all the newspapers, and got promises that the paragraph* should not be inserted. At one place I learn that it actually was cut out for the purpose of being inserted. At the Herald office I was told that it came from a correspondent in the country, and that it was in a female hand-writing. They assured me that they woidd stop and send to me any thing in future communicated to them on the same subject, if any such should reach them ; at the same time they observed that they could not answer that they might not put in paragraphs from the same quarter, which being distant allusions, they might not understand, though the lady and • The purport of this paragraph does not appear, but it probably related to some of the circumstances connected with the loss the family had just experienced. 2 s 402 LIFE OF BURKE, 1794i, myself, as well as our friends, migbt very well know what was meant." A few days afterwards (12th August) some further particulars are given. " At last I have had the pleasure (1 may truly say under the circumstances), of seeing our dear Mrs. Burke ; and I have the satisfaction of informing you that I found hei* better than I was taught to expect. After the first meeting she was more composed than he, or she played her part more naturally in order not to discompose him. When I separated from her arms, he took me by the hand, and spoke to me with a tone of artificial and laborious fortitude : she saw through the disguise and gently reproved him for not supporting himself as he promised. She entered occasionally with apparent sincerity into some of the topics of consolation, upon which I touched a little, when any expressions of his seemed to render them necessary ; and occasionally she took part in the general topics of conversa- tion which were introduced. But once when he had walked to the other end of the room, and once when he was reading to himself, she raised her hands and cast upward at the same time a piteous look of silent affliction. His mind seemed to be more fully engaged than hers by the general conversation, but he had frequent, though not excessive bursts of grief. I was very much delighted with one thing which I heard. Mrs. Burke, who for three nights had taken a gentle opiate, omitted it ou Sunday night, and slept well without it. She assured me too that the complaint in her limbs was at present better. I was told by him, that they had read a good deal in the course of the day, which I very much approved. On my asking when they would go into the country, she turned to him, who answered, when- ever she pleased. She then said some time in the course of the week. I expressed a desire to go with them, but she only said, without any direct yes or no, that they should have some business. At parting, he begged me to come as much to him as I could. It was however so much the request of poor William and Mrs. Nugent at Beaconsfield that I would come, that my plan is at all events to come to you for a few days ; or if the Captain and Mrs. Thomas ilaviland take up their abode with you, then to take possession of his house. I can then be at Butler's Court 1794. LETTERS OE DR. LATTRENCE. 403 all the day or the greatest part of it, as may be useful and most convenient. I beg you will not think it necessary to give yourself the trouble of an answer, but arrange things at your discretion for the best against Thursday, or what- ever day we may come." Next day he finished this distressing detail by the following : — " Yesterday eveniug I was happy again to learn that our poor Jane Burke had slept well without the aid of medicine. Mr. Burke was somewhat lower, which a little affected her, but I think it was only the natural progress of his grief, settling regularly from sudden bursts mingled with intervals of forced composiu-e, into a more even and sober melancholy. They talked of removing to Butler's Court on Friday, but said nothing inviting me with them. I shall therefore come, and on reflection, to Captain Haviland's house, as I bring papers with me to occupy my leisure minutes. If I should not see your son, I presume you have authority sufficient to give me possession. As yoa,heard the contents of a letter* which I wrote from your house, I hold it due to my truly noble friend that you should also know the answer. It bears in every respect the express image of his mind. He explains to me his silence when Dr. W. King mentioned to him his letter to Lord . He says that he never has asked Lord , or any friend of his own who possesses the same sort of parliamentary interest, and makes the same use of it that Lord does, a syllable respecting tlie destina- tion of it. And this is a fixed principle with him. This was the reason of his taking no im-mediate notice of what Dr. King told him. He then passes to the general part of my letter, and informs me, ' He is glad to know that Parliament is my wish, because he will endeavour to con- tribute to its accomplishment, although he cannot speak with precision as to the mode or time of eftecting it, and he hopes it is useless to assure me that he cannot have a greater pleasure than in testifying to me and the world the friendship which he feels for me.' It gives me the most lively satisfaction on reflection, to be able to say, that what I expressed in my letter to him I sincerely felt. I had no * To Mr. Burke ; which expressed liis wish to get into Parliament, and remotely hinted at the exertion of his influence to aid liim in tlie attt^'nat. 404 LIFE OF BDKKE. 1794. doubt of his friendsliip— I write in great naste —Adieu tiL we meet." The son thus deeply lamented had always conducted hmi« self with so much filial duty and afifection towards both parents, and especially in soothing the unavoidable irritations to which his father was subjected by the prominent part he took in public afiairs, as to sharpen the natural feelings of sorrow of the parent, by reflecting that he had also lost a counsellor and friend. Their confidence on all subjects was even more unreserved than commonly prevails between father and son, and their esteem for each other if possible higher. The son looked to the father as one of the first, if not the very first, character in history. The father had formed the very highest opinion of the talents of the son, and among his friends rated them superior to his own. He had enlarged the house at Beaconsfield for his particular pursuits and accommodation ; he consulted him for some years before his death on almost every subject whether of a public or private nature that occurred ; and very often followed his judgment in preference to his own where they happened to differ. The deceased possessed much knowledge, firmness and decision of character, united with strict integrity of mind. The loss of such a companion and confidant ; the unexpected and irremediable destruction of hopes entertained of his advancement and fame, and as an only child, the consequent extinction of the bopes of de- scendants to continue his name, was naturally felt with excessive poignancy. It shook his frame so fearfully, that though the intellectual energies continued unimpaired, his bodily powers rapidly declined. He never afterwards could bear to look toward Beaconsfield Church, the place of inter- ment ; nor was this beloved son for any length of time ever absent from his mind excepting when engaged in literary com- position, which therefore became rather a relief than labour. The Bishop of Meath (O'Beirue) used to say, tliat the first time he had an opportunity of seeing him after the melancholy event, he was shocked to observe the change produced in his appearance. The countenance displayed traces of decay and of extreme mental anguish, the chest had obviously sunk, and altogether exhibited the appearance of one bowed down both in frame and in spirit by the severest afiliction. If early all his private letters and publications written after ITD-i. HIS GEIEF FOE H18 SOW. 405 this time contain many and pathetic allusions to his loss ; and in conversation were stiil more frequent. He called the departed " the hope of his house," " the prop of his age," " his other and better self." Writing to a relative on the birth of a son, he said, " may he live to be the staff of your age, and close your eyes in peace, instead of, like me, re- versing the order of nature and having the melancholy office to close his." To Mr. (the late Baron) Smith he wi'ites : " So heavy a calamity has fallen upon me as to disable me for business and to disqualify me for repose. The existence I have I do not know that I can call life * *. Good nights to you — I never can have any." In a private letter to the same gentleman, he says, " Yes ; the life which has been so embittered cannot long endure. The grave will soon close over me and my dejections." To Sir Hercules Langrishe he talks of the remainder of his " short and cheerless exist- ence in this world." To Lord Auckland, he says, " For myself or for my family (alas ! I have none) I have nothing to hope or to fear in this world." The Letter to a noble Lord speaks of the " sorrows of a desolate old man." And again, " The storm has gone over me ; and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stripped of all my honours ; I am torn up by the roots and lie prostrate on the earth." " I am alone. I have none to meet my enemies in the gate. I greatly deceive myself if in this hard season of life I would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is called fame and honour in the world." To Mr. William Elliot, he writes, " desolate at home, stripped of my boast, my hope, my consolation, my helper, my coun- sellor, and my guide Ton know in part what I have lost, and would to God I could clear myself of all neglect and fault in that loss," and numberless others of a similar sorrowful import are scattered through his subsequent writings. It was a matter of small consideration that except for this heavy affliction Mr. Burke was to have been raised to the honours of the peerage ; but infii'm, childless, and desponding, every feeling of ambition became extin- guished in his breast as the preceding expressions plainly intimate. Notwithstanding this, perhaps the honour should have been bestowed and accepted. It would have been a satisfaction if not to himself, at least to his friends and to his admirers as a testimony of national gratitude to a man i06 LIFE or BrEK-B. 1794. of such singular and varied talents exerted "witli extraordinary vigour in every department of the public service ; and as a passport to the greater favour and consideration of that numerous class of the community (and those too not of the least rank or influence), vrho would estimate at a very dif- ferent value the exertions and services of plain Mr. Burke, and those of Lord Burke or Lord Beaconsfield. In person, young Burke was neither so tall nor so muscular as his father, but well formed and active, his features smaUei and more delicate, though handsome and expressive, supposed to bear some resemblance to those of his uncle Eichard, and his complexion florid. A picture of him by Sir Joshua Reynolds is an admirable likeness, "as exact," said a literary lady, a friend of the family, who saw it at the painter's before it was sent home, " as the reflection of a mirror." From this portrait his father, soon after his death, caused a print to be engraved, which preserves much of the spirit of the original. Underneath it, after his name, age, and the date of his death, are the following lines, altered in a slight degree from Dry den's elegiac poem of Eleonora — " As precious gums are not for common fire, They but perfume the temple and expire ; So was he soon exhaled and banished hence, A short sweet odour at a vast expense." Adding to these, as at once characteristic of his grief and his pride, " dolor atque decus."* An afiectionate but not overchanged character of his friend — for whom Opposision said the Clerkship of the Pells had been once designed — was drawn up for the newspapers by Dr. Walker King. Letters of sympathy and condolence came in from many quarters, among the more distinguished of which were those of the Comte D'Artois, Count De Serent, * He was disposed to believe in some indisposition on the part of those in power to bring' his son forward in public life. The hint is dropped in the letter to Mr. William Elliot, 1796. " Had it pleased Providence to have spared him for the trying- situations that seem to be coming- on, not- withstanding that he was sometimes a little dispirited by the disposition which me thought shown to depress him and set him aside ; yet he was always buoyed up again ; and on one or two occasions, he discovered what might be expected from the vigour and elevation of his mind, from his unconquerable fortitude, and from the extent of his resources for every pui'pose of speculation and of action." 1794. HIS OPINION OF THE WAK. 407 Earl Fitzwilliam, Mr. Grattan, Mr. Windham, and other acquaintance m political life. Several were deterred from expressing their feelings by the pain to the parent inse- parable from touching on such a subject, or in the expressive words of Count Do Serent — " I felt that though I had incli- nation, I had no right to mix my grief with yours. I stood xnute before the grief of a father !" Toward the earlier part of this year, he had been sum- moned by the Duke of Portland to a meeting of Old "Whigs to discuss public affairs in relation to their conduct in Parlia- ment and to Grovernment. His general correspondence does not appear to have been extensive. To Mr. Windham, he wrote, condemning the non-employment of Frenchmen for French objects ; to Mrs. Crewe on the state of the emigrants ; to his son expressing some hope that Fox may join the mode- rates of the Whigs, though " the last thing in the world which Fox will do is to reconcile himself to me," — and to Mr. Woodford, who communicated to him for consideration a paper alleged to contain the sentiments of Mr. Fox on the cause and principles of the war, though Burke doubted whether it was expressiy meant for his eye or not. He sees however, he says, no material variation in it from that gen- tleman's former opinions ; he does not wish him for an adver- sary, but cannot agree for a moment in his belief that peace is or was practicable ; and then restates his own opinion, so remarkably fulfilled by its deadly nature and progress — " cannot persuade myself that this war bears any the least resemblance, other than it is a war, to any that has ever existed in the world. I cannot persuade myself that any examples or any reasonings drawn from other wars and other politics are at all applicable to it ; and I truly and sincerely think that all other wars and all other politics have been the games of children in comparison to it." CHAPTER XIV. Rumoured appointment to the Provostship of Trinity Colleg:e, Dublin- Bishop of Auxerre — Grant of a Pension — Correspondence with Mr. William Smith — Second Letter to Sir Hercules Lang-rishe — Letter to Mr. William Elliott — Letters to Mrs. Haviland — Letter to Lord Auckland — Thoughts on Scarcity — Anecdotes — Letter to a Noble Lord. Extreme as was the grief or rather despair for an only and beloved son, efforts were not wanting on his own part 408 LIFE or BTJEKli. 1794. to overcome it. One of the first arose from a general rumour in Ireland regarding himself, that of the intention of Ministers being to make him Provost of Trinity College, Dublin. He immediately wrote off to Mr. Windham to say, that were such design even intended, he would not accept it — that no favour or arrangement of Government should give it to any one out of the body of Fellows — and then " for a thousand reasons, only to an ecclesiastic." Such an ofiice, he reiterated to the Duke of Portland, should never be made as it had been made, and as most things in Ireland were made, a job — and that the recommendation of the members of the Collegiate body, not that of the local administration, should alone determine the choice. Some letters on this subject were also exchanged with Grattan. Strong no less in grateful than in other feelings, he understood about this time that the Bishop of Auxerre, who, as we have seen, had been kind to his son in Prance more than twenty years before, was with his brother Viscount De Cice and nephews, as emigrants, pressed for the means of existence. He contrived, however, amid his own serious straits to send one of them (Abbe De La Bintinnaye) fifty pounds — confessing to having raised the money with difii- (tulty. In real life, as in fiction, we sometimes meet with the due fulfilment of poetical justice ; and the present proved one of these agreeable occasions. Nearly at the moment of performing this act of generosity, a letter ari'ived from Mr. Pitt, announcing in the following terms the con- sideration extended by the Crown to his long and meritorious service. — " Downing Street, August 30lh, 17'J4. " Dear Sie, — I have received the King's permission to acquaint you that it is His Majesty's intention to propose to Parliament in the next Session to enable His Majesty to confer on you an annuity more proportioned to His Majesty's sense of your public merit than any which His Majesty can at present grant ; but being desirous in the interval not to leave you without some, though inadequate mark of the sentiments and dispositions which His Majesty entertains to- wards you, he has further directed me to prepare an immediate grant out of the Civil list of 5^1200 per annum (being the largest sum which His Majesty is entitled to fix) either in your own name or in that of Mrs. Burke as may be must 1794. HIS PENSION. 409 agreeable to you. I shall be happy to learn your decision ou this subject, that I may have the satisfaction of taking the necessary steps for carrying His Majesty's intentions into immediate execution. — I have the honour to be, with great esteem and regai'd, dear Sir, your most faithful and obedient servant, W. Pitt." A second communication about three weeks afterward mentions that the annuity should commence from January, 1793 ; and that as the remaining part of the arrangement required the sanction of Parliament — "it will be a very honourable and gratifying part of my duty to take the first opportunity of conveying the King's recommendation for carrying it into effect." The intention thus voluntarily an- novuiced by the Miuister — for no application whatever had been made on the part of Mr. Burke — ^lie did not exactly fulfil; — on what account is not known. But he advised the King to grant in lieu of the Parliamentary pro^'ision,£2500 per annum in annuities for lives payable out of the West Indian four and a half per cent fund, then at the disposal of the Crown, in order to enable Mr. Burke to discharge some serious debts contracted during a long course of important though un- requited public duties. The measure was not finally settled till October, 1795. His Majesty, not Mr. Pitt, is said to have been its first proposer. But the manner in which it came, formed no object of consideration with the party hold- ing opposite political views. The simple fact of being accepted was deemed sufiicient to justify unworthy animadversion in Parliament ; while from the less respectable portion of party writers in newspapers and pamphlets came rancorous abuse and the most ungenerous imputations, persevered in long after his death, and even to a recent period by the more furious and irreclaimable revolutionary spirits of the day. It was in vain to urge that it had been deserved by lengthened and very remarkable public services — by personal disinterestedness on many occasions — by surrendering about i'20,000 per annum as his perquisites from the Pay Office —by his economical Eeform bill which for twelve years past had saved the country nearly £80,000 annually in hard money, as well as the extinction of offices which might have been converted to undue influence in Parliament — by refor- mation of the Pay Office in guarding against serious drficits so fi'equently experienced there, and rendering available to 410 LIFE OF BUEKE, 1794 the public service about £100,000, the frequent amount ol the balance in hand — and if for nothing else, by his exertions against the revolutionary opinions of the day ; which in the general belief warded ofl' the most imminent peril with which the constitution of the country had been threatened since the time of James II. These latter labours however, so different are political tastes, seemed to constitute his sole offence in the eyes of former coadjutors and admirers. They had no other charge indeed to allege against him : and the acceptance of the pension was considered as the consummatiou of the crime. The heat of the moment caused them to forget that a pension is the usual and most open and honourable mode of rewarding great abdities devoted to the advancement of public good : that if receiving it were a proof of corruption, few of their own friends at that moment but were equally corrupt; and that in fact tried by this standard of purity, there was scarcely a single honest public name not excepting Lord Chatham himself, to be found in our annals. Against those effusions of irritation rather than of good sense, good feeling, or sound argument, Mr. Burke had to place a public life of thirty years of unsullied purity, which, in the language of an eminent Whig when alluding to the fact, " was proof against his own embarrassed circumstances." The effects of clamour and abuse, right or wrong, when perseveringly continued, are for a time not inconsiderable. Some even of his admirers began to doubt the propriety of accepting the boon, among whom was the anonymous author of the " Pursuits of Literature," who though convinced, as be said, that no man ever better or possibly so well deserved public reward, seems inclined to think he ought not to have received it, in order to avoid the possibility of imputation upon his motives. This is a refinement of fastidiousness not to be looked for, scarcely to be desired, in the affairs of the world ; and which if attended to, would preclude most public servants from experiencing any thing like public gratitude. If a statesman has honourably earned reward ; if it be honourably offered to his acceptance ; and if he be from the nature of his private circumstances really in want of it, why it may be asked should the benefit not be received ? Would it not indicate weakness rather than strength of mind to be frighted from it by vulgar abuse, or by waiting to obtain that which never was, and never can be received by any man 1794. BOMAN CATHOLIC EMAJfCIPATIOK. 411 — tiniversal assent to his deserts ? Or is it meant to be maintained, that the insignificant in talents, tlie worthless and inefficient members of the state, or those who are already rich and do not want it, are alone to profit by the piTblic boimty ? "The word pension," said Lord Macartney, a statesman of experience and of unspotted integrity even in India when India was a hot bed of temptation even to sturdy virtue, " gives great ofi'ence to some gentlemen ; but for my part I have lived too much in the world to suffer myself to be imposed upon by a word or a name. In every other country of Europe, a pension is considered the most honour- able recompense which a subject can enjoy — I speak of free countries, such for instance as Sweden.* * * A pension is infinitely more honourable than a sinecure office : the one loudly speaks its meaning, but the other hypocritically lurks under a supposition of duty where there is nothing to do." His Lordship might have added, that however customary in England to rail against pensions whether well or ill bestowed, most men when they have the opportunity find it convenient to accept them. For some months after his afflicting loss, the mind of Mr. Burke was too seriously hurt to take so active an interest as hitherto in most questions connected with public aifairs ; nor did his friends deem it decorous to intrude upon the privacies of a grief so profound by solicitations for his opinion. But as time began to work its usual influence, return to the consideration of things which had long been a species of daily aliment to him, was eagerly desired as serving to counteract the intrusion of more melancholy thoughts. His direct communications with Ministry however, in a great degree ceased with the life of his son, his influence on general opinion being now exerted through the influential channel of the press, and therefore wholly public. The question of Eoman Catholic Emancipation occupied then a large share of the attention of the statesmen of Eng- land and Ireland. In the latter country, as being chiefly concerned in the result, it was necessarily more warmly debated. The late concessions there, the continued exertions of Mr. Grrattan, and the inflammatory state of politics even in England, altogether producing in many a conviction of its necessity ; in others as strong an aversion to any further indulgence. An appeal to Mr. Burke from several friends 412 LIFE OF BUEKB 1794. in Dublin wbose opinions were either not fully formed, or who wished their doubts on the matter entirely resolved, wa? therefore made. Among the number was his young friend^ Mr. William Smith. He had now secured a seat in the legislature of his coimtry ; and being further placed in the not uncommon position in Ireland of having one parent of the Protestant and the other of the Roman Catholic faith, and brought up a Protestant himself, he considered it no less desirable than just to gain from such a man all the additional light that could be thrown upon the subject, in order to be himself enabled to act wisely and conscientiously towards his religion, towards his parent as one of the less favoured persuasion, and towards his country. The letter penned on this occasion he was good enough to communicate to the writer of this work. It enters fully into the subject, with great ability and freedom from undue bias ; but the settlement of that important question after some editions of this work had been published, precludes the necessity of detailed notice here further than as an incident in the life of his great correspondent, to whom he says — " I am about to make a very usual return for great kindness, by imposing a further tax on him from whom I have received it. The funds however on which I draw, whatever modesty or prudence may induce you to allege, are imiversally known to be abundant. Besides, what I ask for is advice ; in giving which you can enrich me without impoverishing yourself" The reply of Mr. Burke bears date January 29th, 1795, and being handed about in Dublin, found its way into the press, though without permission of the writer or his corres- pondent. He does not enter into the question with all the minuteness perhaps which was solicited, but gives his views upon it generally, and pleads for the removal of the whole of the disabilities of the Eoman CathoKc body. Speaking of their religion, he applies to it the language and consideration of statesmen — that as the faith of four-fifths of the community of the country it should not be hostilely treated — that as a thing in itself irremoveable by either force or possibly persua- sion, it should be the business of wisdom not to bicker and contend with, but to make the most of it. He urges unanimity upon the Christian world as now more than ever necessary when the foundations of Christianity itself were attacked ; and that were it possible to dispute, rail, and persecute tht 1795. KECALL OF LOED FITZWILLIAM. 413 Eoman Catholics out of their prejudices, it is not probable they would take refuge in ours, but rather in an inditference to all religion ; and that were the Catholic religion destroyed by infidels, it is absurd to suppose that the Protestant church could long endure. " All the principal religions in Europe," he says, "stand upon one common bottom. The support, that the whole, or the favoured parts, may have in the secret dispensations of Providence, it is impossible to say ; but humanly speaking, they are all prescriptive religions. They have all stood long enough to make prescription, and its chain of legitimate prejudices, their main stay. The people, who compose the four grand divisions of Christianity, have now their religion as an habit, and upon authority, and not on disputation ; as all men, who have their rehgion derived from their parents and the fruits of education 7nust have it ; however the one, more than the other, may be able to reconcile his faith to his own reason, or to that of other men." The measures of concession meant to benefit Ireland by the new Lord Lieutenant Earl Fitzwilliam, being disapproved by the English ministry, the disagreement unhappily produced his recall ; and the ferment occasioned by this impolitic act ultimately terminated in the rebellion. The dislike of the King to favour Eomanists was probably stronger than that of Ministers, though less known or not publicly avowed until a subsequent period. Heated discussions were in the mean time carried on in Dublin in public assemblages of the Catholics and anti-Catholics ; the former in Francis-street, the latter in College Green. A warm debate on the subject had likewise taken place in the Irish House of Commons. In this situation Mr. Burke wrote his Second Letter to Sir Hercules Langrishe wlio had sent him his speech on the occasion, in which several new arguments are urged to support the view of it which he and his friend the baronet had taken. His feelings on the change in the Irish ad- ministration were of the most desponding nature,— and much more in private conversation than he thought proper to publish. " I really thought," he writes in this letter, " that in the total of the late circumstances with regard to persons, to things, to principles, and to measures, was to be found a conjuncture fiivourable to the introduction and to the per- petuation of a general harmony, producing a general strength. 414 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1795. whicli to that hour Ireland was never sc happy as to enjoy. My sanguine hopes are blasted ; I must consign my feelings on that terrible disappointment to the same patience in which I have been obliged to bury the vexation I suffered on the defeat of the other great, just, and honourable causes, in which I have had some share ; and which have given more of dignity than of peace and advantage to a long and laborious life." Immediately after this letter had been dispatched he thought it necessary to defend himself from an attack of the Duke of Norfolk in the House of Lords, who in the debate concerning Earl Fitzwilliam, took occasion to advert to him by name as the cause of that nobleman's secession from the party. The number, variety, and magnitude of Mr. Burke's talents, he said, were known, and he fully admitted them all ; but they had not been put to a right use. By the book which he had published he had provoked dangerous replies, particularly that of Mr. Paine ; yet he continued to wage war against Whig principles and against the spirit and the securities of freedom. The answer, which is couched in a strain of sarcastic humour, forms a Letter to William Elliot, Esq. He confesses he is somewhat obstinate in adhering to the opinions and party with which he set out in life, instead of being lectured into the new opinions of a new party, some of whom were not born into the world and all the others were children, when he entered into the con- nexion — that he continues somevrhat purblind to the bless- ings of French freedom, and must persevere in the path he had chosen, that is, to try to save his Grace, and persons like his Grace, from themselves. — " I admit, indeed, that my praises of the British government, loaded with all its incumbrances ; clogged with its peers and its beef; its parsons and its pudding ; its commons and its beer, and its dull slavish liberty of going about just as one pleases, had something to provoke a jockey of Norfolk, who was inspii'ed with the resolute ambition of becoming a citizen of France." Adverting to the toasts, witticisms, and allusions fre- quently made to him by the political clubs and associations of the day, as well as in the speeches of Mr. Erskine in the late trials for high treason and on other occasions at the bar, he gives the reins to his fancy. " Mr. Erskine supplied 1795. DUKE or NOEFOLK— COLOXEL HATILAXD. 415 something, I allow, from the stores of his imagination, in me- tamorphosing the jovial toasts of clubs, into solemn special arguments at the bar. So far the thing showed talent : however I must still jDrefer the bar of the tavern to the other bar. The toasts at the first hand were better than the arguments at the second. Even when the toasts began to grow old as sarcasms, they were washed down with still older pricked election port ; then the acid of the wine made some amends for the want of any thing piquant in the wit. But when his Grace gave them a second transformation, and brought out the vapid stuff which had wearied the clubs and disgusted the courts : the drug made up of the bottoms of rejected bottles, all smelling so wofully of the cork and the cask and of every thing except the honest old lamp, and when that sad draught had been farther infected with the gaol pollution of the Old Bailey, and was dashed and brewed, and ineifectually stunned again into a senatorial exordium in the House of Lords, I found all the high fla\our and mantling of my honours, tasteless, flat, and stale. Unluckily, the new tax on wine is felt even in the greatest fortunes, and his Grace submits to take up with the heel-taps of Mr. Erskine," About this time he had to lament another family aflliction m the death of Major Haviland the husband of his niece, who having accompanied his regiment, the 45th, to the West Indies (from a sense of duty, contrary to the wishes of his Tamily), died at Martinique, just at the moment when gazetted colonel. Mrs. Haviland, who remained at home, received the melancholy intelligence of being a widow before she became a mother. To this sad event the following letter of Mr. Burke adverts, which— among several others — were addressed to the senior Mrs. Haviland. " Mt dearest Madam, - Ton know that I partake from the very bottom of my soid the aflliction you sufter. It is not my relation to him, and through him to you, that alone afiects me. I loved him as a friend, and I loved you as a friend, both of you most sincerely, before we had any other connexion : but sorrow and suffering are our lot ; and the same God who makes the dispensation, must be our comfort under it. As to the excellent poor creature here who ap- E roaches to her time very nearly, we cannot possibly trust er with what I fear too much is the real state of her case. 41G LIFE OF BUEKE. 179.'» She is far advanced, and if she hears it before she gets tc town and has help at hand, I think it may be death to her, so we thank you most cordially for the cold.* She wag dressed ; and nothing else could hinder her going to you. May the Almighty strengthen us all, and bow us in this and in all things to his wise disposal. May every blessing attend you. Adieu, and believe me ever faithfully and affectionately yours, and Mrs. Aston's sincere friend and obliged humble servant, Edmund Bukke. " Mrs. Burke is to you both with all her usual affection." He addresses Mrs. Haviland again about 7th or 8th of August. ^ — " I waited to see how things turned out with your poor child before I troubled you on the subject. A melan- choly one it is to us all. She w^as not made acquainted v^ith her irreparable loss until yesterday morning. She had from our manner been prepared to expect bad news of some kind or other ; and the unfortunate business was opened so gradually that though grief beyond expression was caused by it (a thing inevitable in a case of so heavy a loss falling on so much sensibility) yet there was nothing of surprise. An agony of sorrow continued the whole day ; and her night was not good. Dr. Poinan, in whom she has much confi- dence, has seen her since, and he had been previously con- sulted. He was of opinion tliat the communication might be more safely made to her before her lying in, than after or very near the time. It was impossible to conceal it, even had it been advisable so to do, for many days longer. He is not apprehensive of danger in the least degree." And after the birth of her son he thus writes to his niece, " Sep- tember 4, 1795. My dear little Mary, — Tour aunt goes to London to see you. I cannot attend her,t else you may be sure I should have great comfort in seeing you and your little one. But I cannot let her go without telling you that 1 love you very dearly ; and that it is my earnest prayer to Almighty God that you may live long and happily ; and that you may see your son| a support to your old age ; an * An excuse made by Mrs. Havilaud, to avoid an interview with her daug-hter-in-law, just after the news of her son's loss had arrived. + The cause was a visit to Mr. Burke, from some members of the royal family of France : — Louis XVIII. and the Dukes de Berri and D'Ang-ouleme. J The late Mr. Thomas Haviland Burke. .1795. PAMPHLET or LOEU AUCKLAND. 417 honour and satisfaction to you, and an useful man to hia friends and country ; and that at a very long day he may close your eyes, not as I have done those of your admirable cousin. Adieu, my dear child ! my most cordial cougratida- tions." His finances we have seen, being far from flourishing at any time, as his friends very v^^ell knew, a pecuniary ofler made at this period by Mrs. Haviland, when aware tliat her friend wassuft'eriug under temporary difficulty, was thankfully but firmly declined and returned. A cordial note signed by Jane and Edmund Burlce objects to the amount were even assistance necessary, and he promises that if eventually wanted it will be applied for. The occasion of the offer was a projected journey to Bath, which having been formerly useful to both, was again expected to produce remedial effects. This friendly consideration again draws forth their sympathies for the loss of Major Haviland, and while offer- ing those of his wife, adds pathetically, " As I do very truly, as much as an old heart worn out with affliction can do." Toward the end of October, (2Sth), Mr. Burke received a polite note from Lord Auckland, dated Eden Farm, Kent, saying that " though in the stormy ocean of the last twenty-three years they had seldom sailed on the same tack, there had been nothing hostile in their signals or manoeuvres, and on his part at least a strong disposition toward friendly and respectful sentiments. Under a similar influence now, he begged leave to send him a small work which exhibited his fair and full opinions on the arduous circumstances of the moment." The reply sent to his lordship two days afterward, wholly dissents from the views exhibited in this pamphlet, and expresses that dissent in unequivocal terms. The first portion of it displays a desponding and querulous tone, resulting from private grief or contemplation of public calamity, from the ill success of our own or the arms of our allies against republican France on the Continent, where alone, not in the colonies, he said, success was most to be desired. The phrase " Buried in the anticipated grave of a feeble old age, forgetting and forgotten" must therefore be taken as words of course. They could not, with truth, be applied to one whose mental energies were constantly acting through the press in as strong and bright a manner as they ever hiid done ; whose doctrines were in constant discussion j 2 £ 418 LIFE OF BUBKE. 1795. A'hose no,mc was daily bandied about in every form of pub- lication from the newspaper to the quarto, a theme of alternate praise and censure even much more than most of the ministers of the country ; and from whose thoughts public topics were scarcely ever for a moment absent. " In this retreat," he says, " I have nothing relative to tliis world to do but to study all the tranquillity that in the state of my mind I am capable of. To that end I find it but too necessary to call to my aid an oblivion of most of the circumstances pleasant and unpleasant of my life ; to think as little, and indeed to know as little as I can of eveiy thing that is doing about me ; and above all, to divert my mind from all presagings and prognostications of what I must (it I let .my speculations loose) consider as of absolutely ne- cessity to happen after my death, and possibly even before it. Tour address to the public which you have been so good as to send to me, obliges me to break in upon that plan, and to look a little on what is behind, and very much on what is before me. It creates in my mind a variety of thoughts, and all of them unpleasant." The work thus sent and acknowledged was intended to be published in London on the same day. Its main purpose was to insinuate, for nothing was distinctly recommended, the propriety of pea;ce with France — that the thing was desirable, and the moment favourable. Both propositions are refuted by his correspondent with much sarcastic humour and vigour of reasoning in the '' Fourth Letter on a Regicide Peace" addressed to Earl Fitz-ndlliam which though pub- lished only in his posthumous works, was the first of the series begun on that subject. Lord Auckland therefore has the merit indirectly, of having been the occasion of writing these celebrated essays. Their opinions, it will be observed, were nearly as opposite as they had been on the American war ; and on both subjects it will not require much deliberation to decide to whom is to be given the palm of supe- rior sagacity. — " A piece has been sent to me," he says in the letter just mentioned, "called ' Remarks on the apparent Circumstances of the War in the Fourth IVeek of October, 1795,' with a French motto — Que f aire encore une fuis dans U7ie telle nuit ? — Attendre lejour. Tiie very title seemed to me striking and peculiar, and to announce something un- coEimon. In the time I have lived to, I always seem t/ 1795. HIS " TirOTJGnTS OS SCAliCITT." 419 walk on euchanted ground. Every thing is new, and accord- ing to the fashionable phrase, revolutionary. In the former days authors valued themselves upon the maturity and ful- ness of their deliberations. Accordingly they predicted (perhaps with more arrogance than reason) an eternal dura- tion to their works. The quite contrary is our present fashion. Writers value themselves now on the instability of their opinions, and the transitory life of their productions. On this kind of credit the modern institutors open their schools. They write for youth, and it is sufficient if the instruction ' lasts as long as a present love,' — or as * the painted silks and cottons of the season.' " It was about this time that his ingenious friend, Mr. Smith, who had distinguished himself in the Irish House of Commons by a speech in favour of Roman Catholic emancipation iu the spirit of the advice of his great correspondent, printed and sent it to him. There is something at once very affect- ing and eloquent in the first paragraph of the reply of Burke ; it alludes of course to the loss of his son. — " I could not without ingratitude defer my acknowledgments of your letter, which breathes the very spirit of sympathy and con- dolence. Others have offered me comfort, but not of a kind that I could accept. Tou alone have touched the chord to which my feelings vibrate ; and touched it the more sooth- ingly because you have touched it sadly. — Tes ; — the life which has been so embittered cannot long endure. — The grave will soon close over me and my dejections. — But I will not make so ill a return lor your kindness as to overcast yom* young mind with the gloom that covers mine." Considerable distress having arisen from the dearness of provisions and many remedial schemes being in conseouence proposed for the adoption of government, he collected and addressed to Mr. Pitt in November of this year, " Thoughts and Details on Scarcity/." In this tract are expounded, iu an intelligible manner, some of the doctrines of political econo- mists bearing upon agriculture as a trade. He adverts like- wise to the absurdity of some of the schemes proposed tc be carried into effect, such as settling a maximum of prices, regulating the wages of labour between farmer and servant by authority, and establishing public granaries in towns by government in order to supply the wants of the people at Sxed prices. *' The cry of the people in cities and towna, 4:20 LIFE OV BURKE. 1795, though unfortunately, from a fear of their multitude and combination, the most regarded, ouglit in fact to be the least attended to on this subject ; for citizens are in a state of utter ignorance of the means by which they are to be fed, and they contribute little or nothing, except in an infinitely circuitous manner to their own maintenance. They are ''^ Fruc/es consumere natiy They are to be heard with great respect and attention upon matters within their province, that is, on trades and manufactures ; but on any thing that relates to agriculture, they are to be listened to with the same reverence which we pay to the dogmas of other ignor- ant and presumptuous men. If any one were to tell them, that they were to give in an account of all the stock in tlieir shops ; that attempts would be made to limit their profits, or raise the price of the labouring manufacturers upon them ; or recommend to government, out of a capital from the public revenues, to set up a shop of the same commodities in order to rival them and keep them to reasonable dealing, they won hi very soon see tlie impudence, injustice, and op- pression of such a course. They would not be mistaken ; but they are of opinion that agriculture is to be subject to other laws, and to be governed by other principles." Pew things it has been often remarked, escaped the com- prehensive range of his observation ; nothing indeed which more particularly concerned the well-being, the necessities, the business, or the desires of men generally, or those more immediately around him. One of those introduced into this work, was the use of ardent spirits by the poor, of which he speaks as a statesman, moralist, and physician in preventing disease by assimilating bad food to the nourishment of the body, with more good sense than is commonly displayed on that topic. — " As to what is said in a physical and moral view against the home consumption of spirits, experience nas long since taught me very little to respect the declama- tions on that subject — "Whether the thunder of the laws, or the thunder of eloquence ' be hurled on gin,' always ] a^n thunder-proof. The alembic, in my mind, has furnished the world a for greater benefit and blessing, than if the opits maximum had been really found by chemistry, and like Midas, we could turn every thing into gold." His know- ledge of farming, and of stock live and dead, was so highly estimated by his neighbours as to occasion frequent applica- 1795. HIS o^l^"'ro^'s ox paper cukbexct. 421 tions for advice upon such matters. He surprised a dis- tinguished literary and political character who about this time paid him a visit, by entering into a history of rural affairs, of the rents, taxes, and variations in the poor'? rates of fifty parishes in the county during several consecutive years ; as well as tlie improvements adopted by tlie neighbour- hood in tillage and grazing — all with the fulness of a farmer who had little else to attend to, though it might be supposed tliat the contentions attendant on public life, had left little time for retaining such details. The "Thoughts on Scarcity" he had at one time determined to enlarge by the introduction of many ad- ditional facts, furnished by his own observation ; and to re-model and publish them under the title of " Letters on Kural (Economics, addressed to Mr. Arthur Young." The work was even advertised, but the more urgent claims of politics caused it to be first deferred and finally relinquished. Few could have given to such subjects a more popular form, or perhaps more real know- ledge, as the letters some years before to his cousin Mr. Ganet Nagle, which relate chiefly to rural matters, had displayed. In the beginning of this summer also he had, from the appearance of the young wheat, predicted an insufficient harvest ; but finding little credence given to his prognostics in the couutr}^ he carried a large quantity of green ears in his carriage to exhibit to agricultural friends in town who proved nearly as incredulous, until the result fully evinced his penetration. Harvest home was always celebrated at Butler's Court with abundant hospitality, the fanily mingling in the gaiety and sports of the time without reserve, and vying in attention to their humbler guests. On the question of the circulating medium as an im- portant branch of political economy, lie seems early to liave entertained opinions, which are now considered the most sound and stable. In a debate (Feb. 13, 1826) on Country Banks, and. the general pecuniary distress experienced throughout the country, they were thus adverted to by Mr. Canning. " There was no period of our history at which there was greater distress or greater difficulty and dismay than in 1795. At that period there was published by Mr. Burke, a gentleman of ne ordinary or doubtful authority, i book, every point and sentence of which was questioned 422 LIFE or BCRK.E. 1705. at the time, but the truth of wliich was subsequently mcst fully established. Mr. Burke, iu describing the French revo- lutionary proceedings, pointed out the mistakes into which they fell with respect to our paper currency, and observed that they seemed to imagine ' that the prosperity of Great Britain grew out of her paper currency, whereas, in point of fact, the paper currency grew out of her prosperity.' " * * " It had been his (Mr. Canning's) fortune to hear and to know Mr. Burke — a man, whose eloquence and whose sound- ness of opinions distinguished him as a member of that House. Unfortunately, however, he had only known him but two years before his death ; he received a letter from him when confined at Bath to a sick bed, from which he never arose, on the subject of the stoppage of cash pay- ments by the Bank, in which the concluding sentence was to the following effect : — ' Tell Pitt, that if he circulates one pound notes at the same time with guineas, he will never see the guineas again.' This was the observation of that great man, who in giving \itterance to this sentiment, seemed to exercise a spirit of prophecy which had so very recently been verified." Several plans for bettering the condition of the poor iu the neighbourhood originated at his suggestion. Among these, as likely to promote that spirit of honest independence which forms a kind of pledge for the existence of other good qualities, he recommended institutions for mutual support in cases of age and infirmity in the nature of benefit societies, which were then and are still, much less common among the rural population than in towns. Of one of these he became a patron and a member, subscribed to it as a poor man would do, attended its meetings, visited those who claimed relief, and usually took the opportunity of inculcating sentiments of piety, loyalty, order, and industry among its members. Seventy of the brethren of this society clad in mourning, attended him to the grave. " In 1795 and 1796," writes a gentleman of the neighbourhood (Mr. Gomme) to the author of this work, " corn became much increased in price, and the poor felt the pressure severely. Mr. Burke, who was ever feelingly alive to their wants, and never backward in exerting himself to afibrd relief, had a windmill in the park at Butler's Court, in which he directed good corn ro be ground, made it into bread at his I 1795. niS COKSIDERATIO?^ TOR THE POOR. *23 Own house, and retailed it to the poor at a very 'educed price. This he said was a better phm than merely to make them a present of it. The bread was of course unadulterated and excellent. He had it served at his own table. I partook of it there ; and he requested me to take a loaf to Wycombe in order to show to the more opulent people of that town and vicinity, how much might be done, and with comparatively little trouble, for the benefit of the lower order of the community.'' "With the poor in tliis neighbourhood he was generally a favourite, having the address to converse much with them, visit their cottages, overlook or regulate their pastimes as well as their labours, without losing any tiling of his dignity. Strolling out at a late period of life during the breakfast hour of Jiis people, he found in a corner of one of the fields a lad. the son of one of his superintending men named Eolf, at his morning's repast, composed of a kind of hodge-podge common in the county. Mr. Burke tasted and commended it. The boy with some pi'ide of heart replied, that it was not so good as he usually had, but if he would come and taste it at dinner, and see how well his mother made it when " father was there," he woiild say it was much better. " Well then, my boy, go home and tell your mother that I mean to dine with you to day off this favourite dish, at the usual hour." The boy delivered the message, to the no small surprise of his mother, who however not doubting its correctness, exerted her very best house-wifery upon the occasion ; and accordingly " the Master " made his appearance at tlie appointed time, partook heartily of their humble fare, and expressed himself sufiiciently gratified wiih his visit. He was frequently accustomed upon public occasions, and upon the occurrence of any event gratifying to his private feelings, to treat the labourers and people about him with a cask of strong beer, his directions about which were, when the news was particularly joyous, to tap it at both ends. Some time before the death of his ton. in- telligence was brought to the house and communicated to the father in a hasty manner, that he had met with some serious accident which endangered his life. The distress which this occasioned may be conceived, until a friend arrived soon afterwards with the pleasing information that he had sustamed no bodily harm. '• Call up AVebster," 42Ji LIFE OF BUKXE. 1795. cried Mr. "Burke in a moment. " tell him to get all the assistance lie can to turn tlie largest rioveable cask of sjtrong beer out of the cellar — bring hither the people to partake of it — and be sure to tap it at both ends with the largest gimblet in the house." It may be doubted whether his aiitipathy to revolutionary' France at this moment did not extend in part to its produce, as the following anecdote communicated by a gentleman to whom I am indebted for several others, would seem to testify. — " Calling at Butler's Court one day in the year 1795, after passing through a drenching shower of rain, Mr. Burke pressed me to take a glass of strong sherry, which he said was of his own importation, pnd the very besi; he could procure. " I cannot," he added, " offer you brandy, f^r I will never pay a guinea per gallon for that or for any oiher article from that country." "I cannot conceive," writes the same gentleman, " why Mr. Burke should have been suspected of be'ng a Eoman Catholic, when there was nothing whatever to countenance such an assertion, except his having some relations of that persuasion, which is a common thing in Ireland, arising from intermarriages ; and his advocating their cause in P;n'liament, and in the press. This stupid prejudice was not, however, confined to the lower class of people, for I once heard a person holding a considerable office under government term him ' a kiln-dried Koman Catholic' Shortly after this, it so happened that J was invited to dine at Butler's Court. ' You will meet,' said Mr. Burke to me, ' the Bishop of St. Pol de Leon of the Roman Catholic church, and Dr. "Walker King, a dignified clergyir.an of our more fortunate and purer church.'' The latter part of the sentence was pronounced emphatically, in allusion perhaps to the then unhappy state of the French church and clergy, and the words made a strong impression upon me, as con- tradicting so strongly the ungenerous imputation I had lately heard. At table accordingly, I met with the reverend persons he had mentioned, along with several others of the right honourable gentleman's friends. I shall /icver forget the manner in which he descended the grand flight of stone steps to receive me — the cordial pressure of his hand— and the graceful and dignified demeanour of intro- ducing me to his other guests. " Burke had a way of doing these little things whicli 1795. DUKE OF bedtord's attack. 425 struck me as being particularly his own, and calculated to make a strong impression on the mind of a stranger. He was particularly attentive in his own house, or at his own table, to any man who was of inferior rank ; he would frequently address his conversation to such person in order to overcome any diffidence he might feel, and, as the phrase is, drmv him out to exhibit any peculiar merit or talent he possessed. His own conversation, in his gayer moments, was various and excursive ; he did not dwell long on common matters, but giving you some bright and brilliant thoughta or happy phrases which it seemed difficult to forget, would pass on to some kindred or relative topic, and throw out the coruscations of his wit or imagination upon that also, thus keeping up a kind of intellectual sharp-shooting on every subject that offered. It wUl be supposed there was some effort in this, and it is not improbable ; but it was not obvious. His mind, however, seemed to be mostly on the stretch, and few things escaped it. I think it was impossible ever to mistake him for an every-day man ; for if in his efforts to sustain his reputation for superiority in private society, he sometimes failed in his hits, and stumbled into or below mediocrity, he recovered in a moment his dignity and proper station." An attack upon the grant of his pensi^tn took place about this time in the House of Lords by the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Lauderdale ; answered by an animated defence from Lord Grrenville there, and from jNIr. "Windham in the Commons. Some surprise was expressed that men of such consideration in the country, making every allowance for party feelings, shoidd display so much illiberality toward the defender, perhaps the saviour of that very rank and property which served to elevate them above the mass of their fellow-subjects ; and from an atom of which, notA\dthstanding the countenance given to the new opinions, they would have been extremely loth to part. It seemed ungenerous that this should be done by former associates in political life ; by men who had acquiesced in grants to other though much less distinguished public men for public services ; and who from their position in the state, might be supposed to rate at its proper value a long and laborious career ; and to estimate those still more intense though unseen and unrewarded labours which form the toilsome preparative to public eminence. i2Q XirE OF BUEKB 1795. The reply to these assailants was the celebrated " Letter to a Noble Lord,'''' perhaps the most brilliant exhibition of sarcastic powers in the whole range of English prose. On first meeting with this piece, the present writer read it over twice, (many parts half a dozen times), without intermission, affected with no ordinary wonder at the mingled irony, indignant remonstrance, pointed rebuke, and imagery in those bold and extraordinary figures which not merely impress the mind of the reader at the moment by their force, but are seldom afterwards forgotten. The striking passages are nearly as numerous as the sentences — forming an assemblage of what may be termed the flashes of indignant genius roused by a sense of illiberality to throw out its consuming fires on the heads of the aggressors ; — " I perceive in it," says the author of ' The Pursuits of Literature,' " genius, ability, dignity, imagination, and sights more than youthful poets W'hen they dreamed, and sometimes, the pliilosophy of Plato and the wit of Lucian." The pathetic lamentation for the loss of his son, and the glowing tribute to the memory of an old friend, — in whose heart he says, he had a place till the last beat, — Lord Keppel, uncle to the Duke of Bedford, show a different, though not less striking style of powers. It has been objected, that the introduction of these topics, as they have little to do with the main question, is irrelevant ; but in fact they evince much rhetorical skill, by tending to throw odium on the ungenerous spirit shown in attacking a retired public servant, old, infirm, and desponding on account of the loss of that son who would necessarily have stood forth his defender ; and of the ingratitude of at least one of liis assailants towards the bosom friend and counsellor of his uncle, and the defender of his honour, as he expressly tells us, " in his rudest trials." The jealousies which he had to encounter during along and stormy public career, and the iev; eftbrts made to win over the influential for personal purposes, are very truly and forcibly adverted to in the following passage. " I possessed not one of the qualities, nor cultivated one of the arts that recom- mend men to the favour and protection of the great. I was not made for a minion or a tool. As little did I follow the trade of winning the hearts by imposing on the understand- ings of the people. At every step in my progress in life (for in every step was 1 traversed and opposed), and at I795. LETTER TO A NOBLE LORD. 427 every turnpike I met, I was obliged to sliow my passport, and again and again to prove my sole title to the honour of being useful to my country by a proof that I was not wholly unacquainted with its laws and the whole system of its interests both abroad and at home. Otherwise no rank, no toleration even for me. I had no arts but manly arts. On them I have stood, and, please God, in spite of the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Lauderdale, to the last gasp will I stand." At the Duke, he particularly points reprehension. His Grace's little experience in public business, his par- tiality to the party whose tenets were supposed to sap or to threaten the foundations of all rank and property, the enormous grants of the crown to his family in former days, and his youth, were openings to an eftective assaidt from any Avriter, but to an intellectual gladiator like Burke, offered overpowering advantages. To contend with suc!i a man, armed with every weapon of argument at command, indicated more courage than discretion, for none of his ablest opponents ever escaped without bearing traces of some grievous infliction. Like the electrical fish, a touch in hostility shook the assailant to his centre. " I decline,'" said the indignant veteran, " his Grace's jurisdiction as a judge. I challenge the Duke of Bedford as a juror to pass upon the value of my services. I cannot recognize in his few and idle years, the competence to judge of my long and laborious life." Not content with overthrowing the politician, he aims a more deadly blow at his possessions, in alluding to the mode by which they were said to be acquired. One of the figures used is equally singular and powerful. — " The grants to the house of Eussell (by Henry VIII.) were so enormous as not only to outrage economy but even to stag- ger credibility. The Duke of Bedford is the leviathan among all the creatures of the crown. He tumbles about his unwieldy bulk ; he plays and frolics in the ocean of the royal bounty. Huge as he is, and whilst ' he lies floating many a rood,' he is still a creature. His ribs, his fins, his whalebone, his blubber, the very spiracles through which be spouts a torrent of brine against his origin and covers me all over v.-ith the spray — every thing of him, and about him, is from the crown. Is it for him to question the dis- pensation of the royal favour ?" 42S LIFE OF BTTEKE. 1795. The express purpose of the pamplilet being to justify the bounty of the crown towards himself, it became necessary to advert to his claims and services, -which he does by running a parallel between them and those of the Duke's ancestor, who had profited so largely and by tlie same bounty. If the retrospect be invidious, it must likewise be admitted there was no inconsiderable provocation. " I have supported with very great zeal, and I am told with some degree of success, those opinions, or if his Grace likes another expression better, those old prejudices which buoy up the ponderous mass of his nobility, wealth, and titles, I have omitted no exertion to prevent him and them from sinking to that level, to which the meretricious French faction his Grace at least coquets witli, omit no exertion to reduce both. I have done all I could to discountenance their inquiries into the fortunes of those wlio hold large portions of wealth without any apparent merit of their own. I have strained every nerve to keep the Duke of Bedford in that situation which alone makes him my superior. Why will his Grace, by attacking me, force me reluctantly to compare my little merit with that which obtained from the crown those prodigies of profuse donations by which he tramples on the mediocrity of humble and laborious individuals ? Is it not a singular phenomenon, that whilst the sans-culottes carcase butchers, and the philosophers of the shambles, are pricking their dotted lines upon his (the Duke's) hide, and like the print of the poor ox that we see at the shop windovs's at Charing Cross, alive as he is and thinking no harm in the world, he is divided into rumps, and sirloins, and briskets, and into all sorts of pieces for roasting, boiling, and stewing — that all the time they are measuring him, his Grace is measuring 7ne ; is invidiously comparing the bounty of the crown with the deserts of the defender of his order, and in the same moment fcwning on those who have the knife half out of the sheath — poor innocent, " Pleas'd to the last he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood." — Tleport asserts that the account given in this work of the origin of the Eussell possessions is erroneous ; while others have said that the information came from the library of George III. at Buckingham House. No formal contradiction 1795. COERESPONDE>"CE WITH DE. HTISSET. 429 of the statement was inade, and Burke is not likely to have risked conjecture v\ here confutatior was so easy. On his part it was perhaps rather a violent yet scarcely unfair retaliation. Against an invading and wanton enemy, all arms are likely to be used ; and he must be a poor soldier who chooses the weaker in preference to tlie stronger weapon. The regret may be that he wielded his advantage ratter imprudently than unjustly, by furnishing hints to the Agrarians or Jacobins of a future day who may be inclined to make experiments in parcelling out those extensive and flourishing domains which he calls the "low, fat Bedford level." His other assailant on this occasion, the Earl of Lauderdale, lived to recant his admiration of Eevolutionary France and a few other popular fallacies of the day ; and no doubt to regret any illiberality toward an old associate whom he had on former occasions handsomely complimented.* During the greater part of 179.5, he kept up an active correspondence with Dr. Hussey, a Eoman Catholic priest, afterwards President of Maynooth, and titular Bishop of Waterford, formerly employed on missions to Spain and Italy, and who was then in Ireland busily promoting the claims of his co-religionists to equality of civil rights. These communications were so especially confidential that he more than once doubts the security of the post office. He touches, as may be supposed, on several delicate points, — and, to an intimation by his correspondent that Roman Catholic bishops may be elected by the clergy, and one out of three so elected to be chosen by government, — he replies, with more zeal than discretion, that Protestants should not be permitted to interfere at all with their bishops. Thus may have ori- ginated that refusal of the Veto, which if conceded, might have kept from the exercise of spiritual authority, some of the ecclesiastical fire-brands who have since tended to mar the peace and industry of their country. He even objects • From many effusions of his Lordsliip to Mr. Burke, the foHowing handsome one, applied to his Reform Bill in 1781, is selected — " He (Mr. Burke,) was the only man in the country ■whose powers were equal to tlm forming- and accomplishing' so systematic and able a plan of reform ; not a mean, narrow, wretched scheme of retrenchment, breaking in upon the dignity of the crown and the lioiiour of the nation, but a great and beau- tifid arrang-ement of office, calculated not to degrade a government, but t« exalt and to udoru it.'' 43C LIFE OF BURKK. 1795 to tne Lord Chancellor or Judges being Trustees for the in- tended College of Maynooth — as if the authority that fur- nished the funds should have no voice or influence whatevei? in their conduct and distribution. In any other cause, he would have seen this anomaly, but a spurious jealousy arising from the generally corrupt nature of official authorities in Ireland, or the fact of having imbibed undue bias in favour of the body to which a beloved son had been agent, and thus tending to carry out the aims of the departed, may have induced him to recommend what unquestionably proves to be no advantage to thequietor good government of that kingdom. On the other hand, he assails with great power the opinions of angry Romanists, of hoping for relief from the growing body of Ilnited Irishmen, or from connections with France. Few educated natives of Ireland, removed from the cabals and local prejudices of the spot to larger and wiser views of the interests of their country, but feel and acknowledge the truth of the following striking appeal from the malignity and ignorance of its violent spirits to the common sense and good feeling of the nation. " In the name of God," he writes, "what grievance has Ireland, as Ireland, to complain of with regard to Great Britain ? — unless the protection of the most powerful country upon earth — giving all her privileges without exception in common to Ireland, and reserving to herself only the painful pre-eminence of tenfold burthens, be a matter of complaint. The subject, as a subject, is as free in Ireland as in England. As a member of the empire, an Irishman has every privilege of a natural-born Englishman, in every part of it, in every occupation, and in every branch of commerce. No monopoly is established against him anywhere ; and the great staple manufacture of Ireland is not only not prohibited, not only aot discouraged, but it is privileged in a manner that has no example. The provision trade is the same ; nor does Ireland on her part take a single article from England but what she has witli more advantage than she could have it from any nation upon earth. I say nothing of the immense advantages she derives from the use of English capital. In what country upon earth is it that a quantity of buens, the moment they are lodged in the warehouse, and before their sale, woidd entitle the Irish merchant or manufiicturer to draw bills on the terms and at the time in which this is done by the war&- 179G. EMIORAIilT SCHOOL. 481 housemen in London ? Ireland, therefore, as Ireland, whether it be taken civilly, constitutionally, or commercially, suffers no grievance." He had just before said, " Tho language of the day (1795) went plainly to the separation of the two kingdoms. God forbid, that anything like it should ever happen ! They would both be ruined by it ; but Ireland would suffer most and first." The recall of his friend Earl Fitzwilliam formed another topic of discussion with this gentleman, Grattan, and others : while he comments on one of the iiomanist bishops (Mr. Coppinger), whose letter to him bore " the seals with arms, with a mitre. * * * I niust confess I wish you would hint, with all the delicacy which belongs to such a subject, that such exterior marks should be forborne as much as pos- sible" — a hint which, if recently followed in England, might have saved that hierarchy from much of the odium it justly incurred. In the midst of this, as exhibiting the claims of all descrip- tions made upon his attention, Malone wrote for something in the way of biography of their late friend Eeynolds. To this he replies nearly as he had formerly done to Lady Inchiquin, that the more he reflected on the subject the more difficult he found it ; that there was little of incident in his life to detail ; that having no skill in painting, he could not enter upon his productions as critic ; that as a social and agreeable man, he had already said nearly all he could say ; but that if he, Malone, would draw up anything of that kind, it should have his best attention, with such additions and suggestions as circumstances required. He laments that his chief business is with the dead, and that excepting a few remnants of animal functions, he is dead himself. CHAPTER XV. Establishment of the Emigrant School at Penn — Letters to J. Gahagan, Esq. — Letters on a Ref,'icide Peace — Letters to tlie Prince of Wurtem- bur^ — His prophetic Spirit as opposed to that of Mr. Pitt — Report con- cerning- him — Letter to Mrs. Leadbeater — Letter on the Atiairs of Ireland— His Illness and Death. In the earlier part of 1796 he found active occupation in founding a school for the destitute children of emigranta 432 XIFE OF BUEK.B. 1796. who had perished by the guillotine or the sword of the revolution. With the view of being under his iunnediate superintendence, the house of the late General Haviland, at Penn, was selected for that purpose. It was already the property of government, having been leased in 179i from the person to whom it had been sold by the devisees of the deceased, as a retreat for a few of the superior, but houseless, French clergy — a design which from unexpected obstacles, did not take effect. Being still in charge of the barrack department, it was applied for by the IVIarquis of Buck- ingham and others, through the representations of Burke. Wr. Pitt gave his assent, with an annual allowance of ^'GUO per annum. The trustees Avere, in addition to the Marquis and Mr. Burke, the Duke of Portland, the Lord Chancellor, Mr. Windham, and Dr. Walker King. The Abbe Maraine formed the head of the establishment, aided by the learned and esteemed Abbe Chevallier. A few notes on this subject were exchanged between Mr. Pitt, the Marquis, and Mr. Burke. An antiquarian correspondent connected with this insti- tution as treasurer after the death of the original founder, having politely communicated to me a few memoranda con- cerning it, they cannot perhaps be better given than in his own words. " In April, 1796, the emigrant school was opened and Mr. Burke, for the remainder of his life, watched over the institution with the solicitude, not merely of a friend, but of a father. He visited it frequently, sometimes daily, being about three miles distant from his house, and often sup- plied the table of masters and scholars from his own. His smiles might be said to have gladdened the hearts of the exiles ; I have witnessed many interesting scenes there of that nature ; they were doomed, alas, too soon to lose their kind protector. At the annual distribution of prizes, the senior scholar delivered a Latin oration in the presence of a large assembly of nobility and gentry in the great hall, in which Mr. Burke was always alluded to as their parent and friend. He assigned to these youths a blue uniform, wearing in their hats a white cockade; inscribed ' Vive le Hoi ;' those who had lost their fathers had it placed on a bloody label, those who had lost uncles on a black one. The Mai'quis of Buckingham made theni a present of a small 17flG. EMIORANT SCHOOL. 433 brass canuou, aud a pair of colours, w'hieh were displaj'ed on public days, as a source of youthful pride by those descendants of suffering loyalty. " After the death of Mr. Burke, I was apponited treasurer, and received from the Lords of the Treasury fifty pounds per month for the support of the establishment. Upon the res- toration of legitimate monarchy in France in 181 J;, the money was remitted thence, until the dissolution of the institution, on the 1st of August 1820, when on the departure of the superior and the pupils, the colours were presented to me as a token of remembrance, and I retain them with satisfaction, from the interesting associations they recall. Many of the youths educated in this college, so humanely founded through the influence and under the auspices of Mr. Burke, at present (1825) occupy im- portant stations in various parts of the dominions of the King of Prance, and for their success in life they ought ever to regard with sentiments of gratitude and veneration the memory of that great and good man."* • He thus describes the house : — " Penn, in Buckinghamshire, to which Mr. IJui-ke frequently resorted astlie friend of General Haviland, and latterly as patron of the euii^i-ant school, lies about three miles north-west of Bea- con^tield. Many of the residents are distinguished for patriarchal longe- vity ; not a few attaining a century of years. Tlie family of Grove trace an uninterrupted descent from the Conquest as proprietors of the same estate. The last possessor, Mr. Edmund Grove, died in June 1823, at the advanced age of ninety-four ; and being well-known in this part of the country as a fair representative of the ancient English yeoman, may be worth noticing. When young, he had been the play-fellow of the late Viscount Curzon and of John Baker Holroyd who died Earl of Sheffield, and was known to most of the surrounding nobility and gentry by the name of Yeoman Grove — a name now disused for the appellation of Esijuire, but formerly applied to those who farmed their own estates. Yeoman Grove was likewise known to George III. who permitted him an unusual freedom. Whenever they met in the street at Windsor, which was not unfrequent on mai'ket- days, he would grasp the royal hand with fervour, and in a way peculiarly his own, inquire, ' How does your Majesty do ? — How is the Queen .'—How are all the children V whicli commonly occasioned, the Royal Personage a hearty good-humoured laugh. " Tyler's Green House, the Residence of General Haviland, was for^ merly the property and residence of the Bakers, ancestors of the Earl of Sheffield, of Sheffield Place, county of Sussex. It is now no more, ' nought could reprieve the tottering mansion fi-om its fall.' In 1822 it was sold by auction in lots ; qf course pulled down and carried away, so that scarcely a vestige now remains to mark the spot where senators weis o « 434 LIFE OF BTJRKS. 1796. The superintendence of this school became a source of occupation and amusement, to divert occasional gloom, or as relaxation from heavier labours. The interest which he took in its success and continuance may be judged by the earnest manner in "svhich he bequeaths it in his will to the protection of the noble persona joined in the trust ; while the wish is expressed that it may be placed under the immediate care of Dr. Walker King, and Dr. Laurence. These gentlemen as his personal friends and from their greater acquaintance with the details, he thought would take more interest than strangers in securing stability to an institution to which he had given existence. Instances of his personal kindness and attention towards the members of this establishment and their friends, were shown in a variety of ways, more particularly in presents from his larder of any delicacy which it did not so much lie in their way to procure. This very often occasioned an wont to converse, and wit, whim, and eloquence to flow in no ordinary cuirent amid the social circle formed by the Burkes. Previous to the de- molition, I had a correct drawing- made of the front, which I have placed among- my illustrations of the county of Bucks. " To those who are acquainted with the country, the g-uides to the site of the mansion are two of the largest and most lofty tir trees in the king- dom. The General was accustomed to call them his two g-renadiers ; one was more lofty than the other, an unlucky monkey kept by Mrs. Haviland having- ascended to the summit of the other, and cropped the leading- branch. These trees may be distinctly seen from the terrace at Windsor — trom Ilarrow-on-the-llill — from St. Paul's Church — and from tlie rising;- ground near Heading- : in the woody neig-hbourhood of Penn they occa- sionally serve as a guide to bewildered pedestrians. I saved them from the levelling- axe in 1798, by my repi-esentation of their utihty, and I am assured that the present noble proprietor, Richard Earl Howe, will not Butfer so grand a feature on his extensive domains in Bucking-hamshire to be destroyed. "However incredible it may appear, it is vouched as fact by per- sons of respectability in the neighbourhood, that the cannonading- at the reduction of Valenciennes in 1793, was distinctly lieard by the inhabitants of Penn. This no doubt will be laug-hed at by many as utterly beyond belief, but there are many authentic iustances on record of the distance to ■which sound occasionally travels, depending no doubt on a peculiar state of the atmosphere at the time ; it is understood, beyond question, that the cannonading on that occasion was heard at Dover. During the late war, the filing of cannon wlien ships were engai;-ed at sea during the night has likewise been distinguished at Penn ; the time has been fre- quently noted, and the fact shortly afterwards ascertained from the pubho pupere." 1796. ENGLISH SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 43o amusing scene to the friends of the family, between liim and his housekeeper, Mrs. Webster. She it seems, had more regard for the credit of her master's table than for the appetites of the emigrants, and whenever there was any- thing choice in the larder, such as a haunch of venison or game intended for the second course, she was obliged to keep, watch over the dainty, lest it should be despatched by her improvident master to the " Prench people," and her management in the repast be called in question by his visi- tors. Sometimes he contrived to elude her vigilance ; on other occasions was caught and disappointed. In attempt- ing one day to send off a present of venison intended to be dressed for company, the wary housekeeper who was upon the alert darted upon him as on a thief caught in the fact — " Sir, Sir," she cried out, fostening upon the article in question, " I cannot part with my haunch, — I cannot indeed— I shall be ruined if I lose my haunch— we shall have nothing else fit to dress for dinner." " But my dear JMrs. Webster, pray consider these poor people — " '* I can consider nothing. Sir, but that we shall have no principal dish — give it away to French people indeed !" " But these unfortunate people have been accustomed to such things in their own country, and for one day I think we can do without them." " Bless me, Sir, remember there are Lord and Lady and Mr. and Mrs. coming to dinner, and without something of this kind I shall get into shocking disgrace. — No, no, Sir, 1 cannot part with my haunch;" and adhering rigidly to this determination, her master was at length obliged to retreat, foiled in his object. The Abbe Maraine, superior of the school, who was a good-natured man and had little idea of Engli^h school discipline, had been complaining of the indocility of some of the pupils, when Mr. Burke replied he must exert his cane with more vigour, and if that would not do, he must flog — and flog soundly. The Abbe appeared somewhat shocked at the punishment. "Do not fear its success," replied Mr. Burke, " it is our chief receipt in England for turning out eminent men — it seldom foils — good scholars, nay good poets are made by the rod — and why not good soldiers ?" The superior ultimately adopted the recipe, and after a time confessed (in his own words) 436 LIFE OF BTTEKE. 1796, "that he believed Monsieur Burke was as right in that point as he had been in so many others." He now lived in pjreat seclusion ; rarely saw any of the Ministry save Mr. Windham ; and gives in a letter to Mr. Grahagan, father of the Baroness Montesquieu, June 22, 1796, a distressing picture of incurable grief— •' Tou have been very good and charitable in wishing to visit this infirmary, where my wife, my poor old friend Will Burke, and myself, are all lame ; Mrs. Burke with the very same lameness which took her some years ago, without effect, to Margate, where we had the pleasure of seeing you. The sight of such a sympathising friend is a comfort to those who are no longer in society. 8ince my calamity* I have Eot dined out of my own house ; nor am I fond of receiving any new acquaintance ; my business and my pleasure in this life being both of them completely over. When I mentioned Mons. de Montesquieu, it was not as a man I wished to see, on account of his own distinguished merit, or the fame of his family, which the world is so full of, and to whose labours the world owes so much ; it is as part of an old fi'iend that I who refuse all new acquaintance took the liberty of desiring him to accompany you. Our house has very little lodging-room, and it is all we could do to lodge you two. Our settled family takes up four beds, and my old friend Dr. Walker King whom I have not seen for a good while and whom I am not likely to see for this year again, we expect here with his wife and child. We have not a bed for a third person ; so that I must deny myself for the present (and it is a real self-denial) the society of the worthy and most respectable gentleman you proposed to accompany yourself and your son the Baron. " Alas ! my dear friend, 1 am not what I was two yeara ago. Society is too much for my nerves, I sleep ill at night ; and am drowsy and sleep much in the day. Every exertion of spirits which I make for the society I cannot refuse, costs me much, and leaves me doubly heavy and dejected after it. Such is the person you come to see ; or rather the wreck of what was never a very first rated ves- Bel. Such as I am, I feel ir finitely for the kindness of those old friends who remembej me with compassion. As to • The death of his son. 1796. THOUGHTS ON A REaiCIDE PEACE. 437 new, I never see one but such French as come to visit the school, which supphes to me the void in my own family, and it is my only comfort. For the sake of that I still submit to see some who are still more miserable than I am. Adieu, my dear Sir, until Monday. Mrs. Burke and my niece salute you cordially.'' Under such a degree of despondency, ordinary miuda would have broken down. Not so his. And it gives us a strong impression of original and yet untamed vigour, to find him detaching his thoughts from melancholy retrospects, and through the medium of the pen, deemed now an almost irresistible weapon, devoting them to the patriotic design of dissipating a gathering gloom over the public mind nearly as heavy as that which overshadowed his own. The misfortunes of the war and triumphant career of the republican arms, unchecked by any reverse on the continent of Europe, had occasioned a momentary revulsion of public feeling not uncommon in England. Erom warm anticipa- tions of success, fears still stronger began to be entertained of the final result of the struggle. Several friends of the ministry, if not some of its members, were among the vic- tims of these fears. Lord Auckland's pamplilet became a kind of ground-work to the superstructure of apprehensions raised by this timid order of politicians, added to those who had from the first opposed the contest with France. A cry for peace was therefore pi'etty generally diftused. Mr. Pitt, either really aftected by it or willing to chime in with the humour of the day, acquiesced by opening negociatious through two or three difi'erent channels, with the acents of the Republic, who received our advances with something of insolence. Indignation however was not immediately roused. We sustained a rebuft' or two patiently. In this situation, Mr. Burke feeling for the national dignity, and determined to persuade or to shame the desponding out of their fears, produced towards the end of the summer in two letters addresed to a member of the House of Commons the work noticed in a previous page, " Thovghts on a Regicide Peace.'' This is another of those marvellous productions wliich combining strong powers of argument with great eloquence and rhetorical skill, are conveyed with little or no oruameut 438 LIFE OF BUHKE. 1796. to the understanding. Among the replies, for there were few attempts at an answer, the best perhaps is in one of the critical journals of the day,* On the question at issue, the writers were utterly at variance. But as genius can seldom be insensible to genius however opposite their poli- tical speculations, the reviewer characterizes the work of his great opponent in the following terms : — "Such is the outline of this publication; of which if it be considered merely as a work of literature it might be suf- ficient to say, thai it is scarcely surpassed in excellence by any of the happiest proauctioiiS of the best days of its author. The same vast reach and comprehension of view — - the same unbounded variety of allusion, illustration, and or- nament drawn from every province of nature and science — the same unrivalled mastery over language — the same ver- satility of imagination which at will transforms itself from sublime and terrific genius into gay and playful fancy — the same happy power of relieving the harshness of political dispute by beautiful eff"usions of sentiment, and of dignifying composition by grave and lofty maxims of moral and civil wisdom — the same inexhaustible ingenuity in presenting even common ideas under new and fascinating shapes — the same uulimited sway over the human passions which fills us at his pleasure with indignation, with horror, or with pity ; which equally commands our laughter or our tears ; in a word, the same wit, liumour, pathos, invention, force, dignity, " copiousness, and magnificence, are conspicuous in this pro- duction, wliich will immortalize the other writings of Mr. Burke. There is nothing ordinary in his view of a subject. He is perhaps of all writers the one of whom it may be said with the most strict truth, that no idea appears hack- neyed in his hands ; no topic seems common-place when he treats it. When the subject must (from the very narrow- ness of human conception, which bounds even the genius of Mr. Burke) be borrowed, the turn of thought and the man- ner of presenting it are his own. The attitude and drapery are peculiar to the master." Two or three others of his most able yet determined op- ponents (and the fact is mentioned because hostile testimony on such an occasion will be least suspected of exaggeration) * Monthly Review ; written by Mr., afterwards Sir James Mackintosh i 1796. ALLEGED J)ECAY OF STATES. 439 look upon this work as his greatest effort in politics — cer- tainly the greatest on the French Eevohition, iu the strong, full, yet clear train of argument lie pursues, the precision of view and unity of purpose displayed in the plan, and the sobriety with which they are submitted to the serious con- sideration of the nation. As tlie letter to a noble lord might be considered a kind of field-day to the light troops of his imagination, sarcasm, and humour, so the " Eegicidr^ Peace" may be considered the heavy artillery — the breaching battery of his judgment and reasoning powers. Besides, it is a kind of dying legacy to his country. It was the last thing he lived to publish ; and is believed to have had much effect in re-animating the drooping courage or querulous spirit of the timid. " To a people who have been once proud and great, and great because they were proud," he observes in his first page, " a change in tlie national spirit is the most terrible of all revolutions." A profound remark in a few words appears to demolish a favourite popular notion, — that kingdoms resemble men in having their periods of youth, maturity, and decay. " I am not quite of the mind of those speculators who seem assured that necessarily, and by the constitution of things, all states have the same periods of infancy, manhood, and decrepitude, that are found in the individuals that compose them. Parallels of this sort rather furnish similitudes to illustrate or to adorn, than supply analogies from whence to reason. The objects which are attempted to be forced into an analogy are not found in the same classes of existence. Individuals are physical b ings, subject to laws universal and invariable. The immediate cause acting in these laws may be obscure ; the general residts are subjects of certaiu cal- culation. But commonwealths are not physical but moral essences. They are artificial combinations, and in their proximate efficient cause, the arbitrary productions of the human mind. AVe are not yet acquainted with the laws which necessarily influence the stability of that kind of work made by tliat kind of agent." Touching on this subject in the letter to Mr. "W. Elliot, he says — " I am not of opinion that the i-ace of men and the commonwealths they create, like the bodies of individuals, grow effete, and languid, and bloodless, and ossify by the aecessities of their own conformation^ and the fatal operation 440 LIFE OF BUEKB. 179G. of lont^evity and time. These analogies between bodies natural and politic, though they may sometimes illustrate arguments, furnish no arguments of tliemselves. They are but too often used under colour of a specious philosophy, to find apologies for the despair of laziness and pusillanimity, aiul to excuse the want of all manly eiforts, when the exi- gencies of our country call for them more loudly." The first letter relates generally to the overtures for peace, in which some incidental and relative matters are dis- cussed. The second enters into an examination of the genius and character of the French Revolution as it regards other nations, and an opinion is hazarded supported by some facts, that the aggrandizement of the nation at the expense of part, or of the whole of the rest of Europe in a more direct and violent way than is the common policy of states, formed an induceii^ent with some of her statesmen to covintenance the first excesses of the people. A third letter — treating on the rupture of the negociations, the terms of peace proposed, and the resources of the country for the continuance of the war, was in progress through the press when death snatched the writer from the scene of his labours. A fourth letter, which it has been observed was written but not completed, pursues the subject through its various relations, chiefly in the form of connnent on that of Lord Auckland ; to the doctrines of which it gives a complete overthrow. In conversation, his opinions were quite as decided and not less Ibrcibly ex])ressed. When the negociations at Lisle, which he thought derogatory to the country were going on, and by some were thought to promise peace, he said from the first that such a result was impossible — " He was only astonished how the people of England, or such a body of men as the English INIinistry, could for a moment believe that the republican leaders would grant peace, even were peace desirable, without first requiring the surrender of our national honour. They are doubly foe'='," he added ; "for they would not only injure but insult you." To a gentle- man who began to talk to him on the probable success of the negociation then pending, and consequent termination of the revolution. " The termination of the revolution ! to be sure !" exclaimed Mr. Burke, with his usual force, felicity, and truth. " The revolution over ! Why sir, it is scarcely begun ! As yet you have only heard the first music ; you'll 1796. HIS POLTTICAL PREDICTIONS. 441 Bee the actors presently ; but neither you nor I shall see th« close of the drama." Mr. Fox is said more than once to have expressed his astonishment at the singular fulfilment of his predictions. When a nobleman of some political cele- brity, in allusion to the vehemence of Burke on the question of revolutionary politics, hinted an opinion that he was a splendid madman — " Whether mad or inspired," is reported to have been the answer, "fate seems to have determined that he shall be an uncommon political prophet." Tliese letters are well worthy of being referred to by those who wish to have a thorough knowledge of the times, and his views of the injudicious conduct of ministry. They furnish the best idea, if not of the origin, at least of the deadly nature of the war in which the country was engaged ; of the impossibility of concluding peace upon any terms consistent with the national honour and security ; and they prove what will perhaps not now be disputed, that peace at the moment would have been more dangerous than the hostility in which we were compelled to per- severe. The character dra-mi of what he calls " the Can- nibal Hepiiblic," in different parts of the letters is indeed an extraordinary effort, for any thing equal to which in completeness and force, the reader will in vain look in any historical detail, ancient or modern. The exposure is as complete as if every individual member of the fearful machine was directly under his eye— the finished piece of dissec- tion of a wonderful political anatomist, who not merely traces the broad outline, the external figure and features of his subject, but whose knife penetrates to the heart, and whose saw bares even the sensorium of this great moral monster, displaying the whole of its secret motives, principles and workings to the view of the world ; the causes of its inflammatory temperament, and morbid yet fearful vigour. Nothing is more remarkable than the prophetic truths which they contain. Futurity may be said to have been open to his view. He wrote under a strong impression that his death was not far distant. " I shall not live to behold," he says in his first page, "the unravelling of the intricate plot which saddens and perplexes the awful drama of Providence now acting on the moral theatre of the world. AVhether for thought or for action I am at the end of my career." At the conclusion of the tirst letter he again adds — " What I say, I must say at once. 442 LIFE OF BUEKL, 179G Whatever I write is in its uature testamentary. It may have the weakness, but it has the sincerity of a dying decla- ration." "When peace was eagerly sought, and as eagerly anticipated perhaps because it was sought, he calmly tells the country, " "We are not at the end of our struggle, nor near it. Let us not deceive ourselves ; we are at the begin- ning of great troubles." Speaking of the lukewarmness of the friends of jNlinistry against the regicides as a body, we are told, " much less were they made to infuse into our minds that stubborn persevering spirit which alone is capable of bearing up against those vicissitudes of fortune which will probably occur, and those burdens which must be inevitably borne in a long war. 1 speak it emphatically, and with a desire that it should be marked, in a long xt;ar.^'' A little further on, he hints at a period of twenty years or more ; — with what surprising accuracy on all these points, need not here be repeated. Alluding in another part to the partition of Poland which he had never ceased to reprobate, are the following remark* able words -" Hereafter theivorldicill liave cause to rue this iniquitous measure, and they most icho u-ere most concerned in ity Who on reading this, will not immediately bring to remembrance the calamities and degradations sustained for so many years afterwards by Austria, Prussia, and Russia, and more particularly the former two, the actors in that spoliation, — under the iron gripe of Buonaparte ? Will not these be immediately acknowledged as the unerring marks of retributive justice ? Is it quite clear, notwithstanding the present calm, that the measure of retribution is full ? Against the spoliation of the territory of France also, as of that of Poland,* Mr. Burke laboured hard to teach the Allies * It seems to have escaped general notice, that the mi^ifnrtiines of Poland in her final partition, may be in some decree attributed, however undesignedly, to ]Mr. Fox and the Opposition, in the strong" and unusual means made use of to thwart Mr. Pitt in the business of Oczakow. They lay claim, it is true, to the merit of having' prevented war on that occasion. But if war liad then taken jilace with Eng^land for one act of violence, Russia, in all probability, would not have ventured upon other and still p-reater ag'jressions. Nothins"; after all, mi<;ht have saved Poland from the combination then on foot affainst her; but it is certain that Mr. Pitt found little encouragement to make the attempt. What the present (18.>4) armed array of Europe may do, remains in the womb of time , but Russia may be taught to rue h.-r career of airgr indizement, and on several oc- casions, of injustice. The question a>ked in the text thirty years ago, may still be repeated, " Is it certain that her measure of retribution is full ?" 1796. DISAPPKOTES OF ATTEMPTS FOE PEACE. 443 the impolicy in 1792 and 1793, but he laboured in vain ; and the consequences were that condign punishment for the attempt in war and sufiering which lie anticipates for tJiem throughout these letters. They may be considered indeed tliat great man's political will. The fulfilment of so many predic- tions is one of the most curious circumstances in modern history. At all times it is true, dying words have been con- sidered impressive things. If men are ever for a moment permitted by the Almighty to have the slightest degree of foreknowledge, it is probably near to the termination of life, when the mind abstracted from its tottering tenement and in some degree purified from temporal interests and passions, forms the most correct and nnprejudiced estimate of sur- rounding circumstances, — not merely of what is, but of what is to come. The sentiments of ordinary men at such times are worth serious consideration. But those of a wise and pre-eminent person siich as in the instance before us, dis- tinguished through life for the possession of much penetration and knowledge, claim no inconsiderable portion of our reverence and regard. Though a decided advocate for war as the less evil to the country, he condemned almost uniformly, after the first few months, not only some part of the ministerial principle, but almost the whole of the plan on which It was conducted. That it was most unfortunate is true. This would seem to corroborate Burke's judgment on the matter ; yet docs not decide the question against those who took the most active part in directing general measures. There were dift'erences however, in his and in Mr. Pitt's views, which seem also to tell in favour of the superior sagacity of the former ; and as they bore on what have since proved some of the leading points of the contest, may be worth enumerating. Mr. Burke declared from the first that there would be war, and that it would be an arduous and a long war. Mr. Pitt on the contrary, not only publicly in the House of Commons but at his own fire-side, at his own table, and in the most unreserved manner to his confidential friends, maintained, first that there would be no war, and then that the war would be short and the superioritv on our part not doubtful. Mr. Burke from the moment of the declaration of hostilities, entreated nay almost prayed, the coalesced Powers, that the integrity of the Prench 414 LIFE or BUEKE. 1796 territory should be preserved inviolate as necessary not only to their own immediate success, but to the future equilibrium of Europe. Mr. Pitt, from the circumstances attending the surrender of her first towns to the Allies, pretty plainly intimated some intention of permitting her to be dis- membered ; and this is said to have been the first thing that thoroughly roused her to indignation and the most de- termined resistance. Mr. Burke wished to have it perfectly understood in France, that the war was levelled at the faction which governed her, not against the nation. Mr. Pitt thought it unnecessary or useless in his public mani- festoes to be very precise in drawing distinctions between them. Mr. Burke urged that from the peculiar nature of the contest, France shoidd be attacked only in France, and that frittering away our force against her colonies and even reducing them one after another, neither crippled her in the slightest degree, nor in point of fact advanced one step nearer to subduing her. Mr. Pitt by the sacrifices made to eft'ect those conquests, evidently attributed an importance to them which subsequent events did not warrant ; while he crippled our force for efiicient service in Europe. At the conclusion of the struggle we have seen all Burke's opinions verified or followed to the letter. The war proved trying and long beyond precedent. France to be overpowered was obliged to be attacked in France. The allied Sovereigns, who in self-defence had to attack the old root of jacobin aggression which had sprouted afresh, in the form of an Emperor, found it necessary to come forward and declare that they made war, not upon her, but upon her ambitious ruler. And with some hundred thousands of armed men, which seemed to place the country at their nod, were obliged explicitly to declare and to guarantee the strict integrity of her territory before they could hope to succeed in their design. " It would answer no great purpose," he says, so early as 1796 with some severity, " to enter into the particular errors of the war. The loJiole has been but one error. It was but nominally a war of alliance. As the com- bined Powers pursued it, there was nothing to hold an alliance together. T'lere could be no tie of honour, in a society for pillage." Of that description of war policy which led us to expensive and destructive expeditions to the Weat Indies and othei 1796. LETTEll TO THE PEINCE OE WUETE^iTBTJEO. 445 places, he writes. " A remote, an expensive, a murderous, and. in the end, an unproductive adventure, carried on upon ideas of mercantile knight-errantry, without any of tlie generous wildness of Quixotism, is considered as sound and solid sense ; and a war in a wholesome climate, a Avar at our door, a war directly on the enemy, a war in the heart of his country, a war in concert with an internal ally and in combination with the external, is regarded as folly and romance." An incident which occurred about this time is said to have given him as poor an opinion of Mr. Pitt's taste or love of Art as he entertained of the measures of his Cabinet. The Grand Duke of Florence, pressed at the moment for money and in dread of losinn; his magnificent collection of works ol art by the progress of the French in Italy, is reported to have offered to send them to this country as security for a loan of £200,000 ; to become the permanent property ol England should the money not be repaid in ten years. This proposal the Minister declined : finding perhaps that he had already quite as many claimants upon his ways and means as could well be satisfied. A present of the " Letters on a Eegicide Peace," sent to his Serene Highness the Hereditary Prince of "Wur- temburg, then in England, was accompanied by the following note : " The author of the Letters which his kinsman will have the honour of laying before the Prince of Wur- temburg, would not liave presumed to think them in the smallest degree worthy of being so presented, if the extra- ordinary condescension of His Serene Highness had not made it his duty to acknowledge his respectful sense of that condescension by such an offering to it as was alone in his power. He would have presented himself personally, ac- cording to His Serene Highness's gracious permission, sig- nified to him through his friend Sir John Hippisley, to pay the homage which every one owes to the rank and virtues of the Prince of Wurtemburg, biit he did not choose to affect his compassion by exhibiting to His Serene Highness tlio remains of an object worn out by age, grief, and infirmity, and condenmed to perpetual retreat. The author is con- vinced that the favourable sentiments of the Prince in regard to those letters, are not owing to the talents of the writer, but to the cause which he has undertaken, however weakly 44G LIFE OF BUKKE. 179G. to defend, and of which His Serene Highness is the pro- tector by situation and by disposition. " The author hopes that if it siiould please Grod, by his all-powerful interposition, to preserve the ruins of the civilized world, His Serene Highness will become a great instrument in its necessary reparation ; and that not only in the noble estates which comprise his own patrimony, but in the two great empires in which he has so natural and just an influence, as well as in the third,* which His Serene Highness is going to unite in interest and affection with the other two. In this he will co-operate with the bene- ficial and enlarged views of the illustrious house and its virtuous chie^ who are on the point of having the happiness of his alliance. To the complete success of that alliance, public and domestic, some of the author's latest and most ardent vows will be directed ! In the great task allotted to the Sovereigns who sliall remain, His Serene Highness wil, find it necessary to exercise in his own territories, and also to recommend wherever his influence shall reach, a judicious, well-tempered, and manly severity in the support of law, order, I'eligiou, and morals ; and this will be as expedient for the happiness of the people, as it will be to follow the natural bent of his own good heart, in procuring, by more pleasant modes, the good of the subject, who stands every where in need of a firm and vigorous, full as much as of a lenient and healing government." The sagacity which had enabled him to penetrate the unhappy results of the French devolution, and the energy and pertinacity with which he opposed it in speech and in WTiting, excited among many who had not the same length of view as himself, or indeed any conception whatever of the evils impending, a variety of conjectures as to the cause. At first mere surprise was expressed at tlie boldness of his predictions. When however he seemed determined to act upon them by the breach which took place with his party for what were then thought simply speculative differences of opinion, they put him down as but a remove from insanity. This idea was afterwards industriously circulated, to which he partly alluded after a vehement sally in the House of Commons by a deliberate address to the chair in the * Great Britain ; in allusion to the projected marr'ag'e of the Prinoe with the Princess lioval of linKl^iid. I 1796. AFFECTTXG AKECBOTE. 447 words of St. Paul, " I am not mad, most noble Festus, but speak the words of truth and soberuess." To an ob- servation of nis niece on the violence and absurd rumours by which he was incessantly assailed, he replied, " Some part of the world, my dear — I mean the Jacobin or unwise part of it — thick, or aftect to think, that / am mad ; but believe me tlie world twenty years hence will and with reason too, think from their conduct that they must have been mad." AVith those who found interest in decrying his public exertions, repetitions of the rumour were heard particularly after the death of the younger Kichard when his grief was known to be extreme ; and it sometiuies had the eifect even of imposing upon friends, an instance of which occurred soon after the publication of the " Letter to a Noble Lord." A I'eport under the guise of seeming secresy reached them in town, of his being afflicted with such total alienation of mind as to wander about his park during tlie day, kissing the cows and horses. Tliis circumstance if true, would be perhaps no more than is done by many honest and fond farmers and stable-boys \sithout imputation of a wan- dering of the wits. Neither was it perhaps with Burke's warm affection towards the dumb as well as speaking mem- bers of his establishment great matter for wonder, as he had in fact some favourite cows* which to be more under his own eye were put to graze near the house. A man of rank, however, left London instantly to learn particulars, and was received in the usual manner of an old friend without observing any perceptible change in his host. Not quite satisfied with this tacit contradiction, yet deemiug it inde- corous to ask direct questions, he adverted in conver- sation to the public occurrences of the day, and to the probable train of any new studies by his host in relation to them, when the latter unsuspicious of the drift of the visitor, produced some of the most eloquent and ably-argued passages from the Letters on liegicide Peace which he was then writing. Convinced now of the information being erroneous, he hinted to INIrs. Burke the main purport of his journey, when the following affecting incident was detailed, which probably formed the foundation for the * A pretty piece, by Reiriiig'le, deline.iting' the liouse and gromuls^ represents Mr. Burke in front of the nuinsioii p;ittiiiL'' ii fa\oarile cow, and bis lady aud a female frieud walking at a little distance. 448 LIFE OF BURKE. 1796. story, though it liacl thriven considerably in magnitude in the journey from Beaconsfield to London. A feeble old horse, which had been a favourite with the junior Burke, and his constant companion in all rural joumeyings and sports when both were alike healthful and vigorous, was now in his age and on the death of his master, turned out to take the run of the park at ease for the remainder of his life with strict injunctions to the servants that he should neither be ridden nor molested. AVhile walking one day in solitary musing, Mr. Burke perceived this worn-out servant come close up to him, and at length after some moments spent in viewing his person, followed by seeming recollection and confidence, deliberately rested its head upon his bosom. The singularity of the action, the remembrance of his dead son, its late master, who occupied much of his thoughts at all times, and the apparent attachment and almost intelligence of the poor brute as if it could sympathize with his inward sorrows, rushing at once into his mind totally overpowered his firmness, and throwing his arms over its neck, he wept long and loudly. His health, though not intellectual powers, had been for some time in a declining state, which terminated in such debility and loss of muscular energy as to render motion and his usual exercise impracticable. To this state of unexpected if not premature decay, his habits of application, literarj^ pursuits, and former laborious Parliamentary exertions no doubt tended. The stomach very imperfectly and painfully performed its office ; and emaciation ensued. How many voluntary labourers for fame are doomed to feel that study is of itself but an avenue to disease — tliat the most glorious and enduring exercises of mind but prepare the way for the disso- lution of its earthly tenement ! So was it with Burke. And when the loss of his son destroyed that buoyancy of hope so long and fondly entertained of witnessing his success in life, no active principle of vitality remained to counteract the inroads of infirmity. That loss he found it impossible to forcet or to recover. Those who did not know him fiincied he sustained annoyance from numerous attacks of the partizans of French opinions ; no less than eight or nine answers having appeared within a few weeks to the letters on llegicide Peace. ISo pain however was in- flicted by these missiles. The writings of the lower clasa 1796. PIRACY OE REGICIDE PEACE. 449 of opponents he rarely saw and never heeded ; the attacks of the higher in the way of arL;ument, he answered and refuted ; the mere abuse of eitljer he despised. Of the latter, an instance occurred about this time wiiich furnishes a pretty good sample of the justice with which he was commonly assailed. A bookseller named Owen, who published the Letter to a Koble Lord and was instrusted with the MS. of the first two letters of Eegicide Peace for publication, represented to some friends of their author who called npon him to account for the profits of the first work, that these had been surrendered to him by that gentleman as a gift. This story Mr. Burke had no other means of disproving than by his word to the contrary, which no one who knew him could for a moment disbelieve. Unwilling however to enter into a con- test on such a matter with such a man, he put up with the loss. This was not all ; for with the characteristic assurance of a pirate, Owen as soon as he found that the manuscript of " Eegicide Peace," was to be withdrawn out of his hands, published it on his own account, not only without the con- currence, but against the positive prohibition of the author. This impudent invasion of literary property he attempted, in a preface to the siu'reptitious copy of the work to defend.* It * One of the ablest critical journals of the time in speakins^ of the woik, thus noticed the transaction : '' Before we procetil to consider the more important piirts of these in- terestinir and extraordinary productions, our attention is natural!}' at- tracted by the stranu'e competition which seems to pi'evail between the g'enuine and surreptitious editions. It affords the first instance, as far as we recollect, of a literary pii'acy bein mons, could not leave London till four o'clock, hut arrived a little alter seven. We all set off together to Beaconsfield, where we found the rest of the pall-bearers — Lord Fitzwilliam, Lord Inchi(iuin and Sir Gilbert Elliot, with Doctors King and Laurence, Fred. North, Dudley North, and many of the deceased's private friends, though by his repeated 'nninctions tlie fmieral was to be very private. We had all hatbands, scarfs, and gloves ; and he left a list to whom rings of remembr.ance are to be sent, among whom my name occurred ; and a jeweller has been here for my measure. I Went back to Bulstrode by invitation, with the two Dukes, the Cliancellor and Speaker, AVindham, Malone, and Secretary King. I staj-ed there till Sunday evening, and got home just before the dreadful storm. The Duke was extremely civil and hospitable — pressed me much to stay longer and go with them, the Chancellor, Speaker, Windham, and Mrs. Crewe, to Penn, to see the School founded by Mr. Burke for the male children of French emigrant nobles ; but I could not with prudence stay. • • » So much for poor Mr. Burke — cei'tainly one of the greatest men of the present century ; and 1 think I might say the best orator and statesman of modern times. He hud his j)assions and prejudices to which I did not sub- scribe; but I always admii'ed his great abilities, friendsliip, and urbanity ; and it would be ungrateful in you and me, to whom he was certainly policial, not to feel and lament liis loss." 460 LIFE OK T^UEKE. 1797. self-denial iu a public man ; for though rauk, and honours, and money may be refused by such when alive, there are perhaps few who would decline the monumental brass, or marble, or inscription, which conveys to posterity some in- timation that their merits, were at least in part estimated and valued by their contemporaries. His reason for advert- ing to the subject he expresses to be " because I know the partial kindness to me of some of my friends ; but I have had in my life too much of noise and compliment." — The first clause in this testamentary document marks in a manner equally striking, his piety, and attachment to his de- parted kindred: — " According to the ancient, good, and laudable custom of which my heart and understanding recog- nize the propriety, I bequeath my soul to God, hoping for liis mercy only through the merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. My body I desire to be buried in the church at Beaconsfield, near to the bodies of my dearest brother and my dearest son, in all humility praying that as we have lived in perfect unity together, we may together have a part in the resurrection of the just." His brother-in-law, Mr. John Nugent, he bequeaths to the protection of his political friends, in order to provide for his interests ; and to his " entirely beloved and incomparable wife, Jane Mary Burke," is given the whole of his property in fee-simple. To his niece, Mrs. Haviland, whose husband was alive at the time the will was drawn up a legacy was left of ^1000. On a tablet such as he desired, in the south aisle of Bea- consfield church, is the following inscription : — Near this place lies interred all That was mortal of the Rijht Honourable Edmund Burke, "Who died on the 9th of July, 1797, aged 68 years: In the same grave are deposited the remains of his only son, Richard Burke, Esq., representative in Parliament for the Borough of Malton. Who died the 2d Aug-ust, 1794, ag'ed 35 : Of his brother Richard Burke, Esq., Barrister at Law, And Recorder of the City of Bristol, Who died on the 4th February, 1794: And of his widow Jane Mary Burke, who died on the 2d April, -»4X2,aged 78.* • A friend adds a few further particulars. " On a mural monument in the south aisle of Beaconsfield church — Tin -»ms of Burke impaling- JN'ug-ent, sculptured in bold relief. 1797. MBS. BUEKE. 461 Mrs. Burke continued to reside at Butler's Court, visited and esteemed by all the friends of lier late husband, among whom Mr. and Airs. AVindham were at all times particularly attentive, until her death, April 2, 1812, being previously much crippled in her limbs by rheumatism. It was believed for some time that she was the autlior of a novel published in 1800, called "Elliott, or Vicissitudes of Early Life," but her friends knew this was not the fact, thougli the pub- lisher said he had had correspondence on the subject with a lady of that name residing at Beaconsfield, whom lie understood to be the widow of Edmund Burke. The " On a cross g'ules, the first quarter charg'ed with a lion ramjjant sable — Burke impaling' Nug-ent — Ermine, two bars g-ules — Nug'ent. " Crest — On a wreatli, a mountain cat sejant guardant proper, gorged with a plain collar and chained or." From the intimate connexion of this family with that of Haviland, it may not be extraneous to introduce, from the authoritj' of my antiquarian correspondent, the mortuary notices upon its members in Penn church ; the words of the inscription upon the General, few as they are, but ex- pressive, being the suggestion of Mr. Burke. " Near the vestry door, on a tablet sculptured with militaiy trophies and other appropriate emblems, by Hickey — the arms of Ilaviland — argent three embattled castles sable, impaling — Aston — argent — a fess and in chief three lozenges sable — inscribed — liere rest the remains of Gene- ral William Haviland, late Colonel of the 4r)th llegiment of Infantry. — An experienced and successful commander without ostentation. A firm friend without profession. A good man without pretence. He died Sept. 16, 1784, aged 67 years. — Also of IMary, relict of AVm. Townly Balfour, Esq. of the kingdom of Ireland, who departed this life August 2, 1789, aged 56 years — after having, by her exemplary patience, pious resigna- tion under a long and severe illness, impressed a genuine value upon those amiable qualities both of the understanding and of tlie heart, which made her the delight of all who knew her. — Also of Mary, wife of Samuel Ruxton Fitzherbert, Esq., of the kingdom of Ireland, — in whom simplicity of manners adorned a fine iniderstanding — the love of her duty adorned the practice of it — and her atfection was rendered inestimable by the sin- cerity and truth with which it was accom]ninied. !?hedied f^ept. Kith, 1786, aged 20 years. This monument, sacred to tiie memory of the b st of husbands, an affectionate twin sister, and a dutiful daughter, is erected by their disconsolate survivor, Salisbury Ilaviland. " Mrs. Salisbury Haviland herself was buried at Penn, October 6, 1807, and her unmarried sister, Abigail Aston, who had lived with her, was likewise interred Feb. 11th, lS14,a;jed 80 years. — And as the more hum- l)le friends of Mr. Llurke's i'unily must not be for^-otten in this list of the departed, it may be mentioned that those old and faithful servants, Webster and his wife, repose near the remain.s of their master, in the cemetery at Beaconsfield • the former dying in December, 1810, the lattei iu August, 1818." 4G2 LIFE OF BCKKE. 1797. real author however was a Mrs. Burke who published the " Sorrows of Edith," and other tales. Some time previous to her death, she sold the mansion and estate of Butler's Court to her neighbour, James Du Pre, Esq. of WiJton Park, for £38,500, reserving the use of the house and grounds during her life, and for one year after death. Mrs. Thomas Haviland, the niece of Mr. Burke, lived with her until her decease, under the promise of being made her heir, which however did not take effect. She received however a legacy of £5000, the remainder of the property being be- queathed to Mrs. Burke's own nephew, Mr. Nugent. Mrs. Haviland was a most amiable and deserving woman, not unworthy of relationship to her celebrated uncle, who in his letters, was always lavish in her praises.* She retired to live at Brompton for the benefit of her health, and died there in March, 1816, at the age of forty-six. — Her son, the late Thomas Haviland Burke, of Lincoln's Inn, in conse- quence of j\[r. Burke's brothers dying unmarried, became the only representative of the family, and as such assumed the name and arms of his uncle, no other person standing in the same, or indeed any near relationship to that distinguished man. His son Mr. Edmund Burke, now at Eton, and two daughters survive. The library, and all the tokens of regard and admiration which he had received from the good and great of the world, devolved with the bulk of the property to Mr. Nugent. The pieces of sculpture which ornamented the house were sold by auction by Christie, and some of them grace the British Museum. An old and costly carved chair of particular workmanship, which had been for many years used in the House of Com- mons, was, upon some alteration there, displaced and pre- sented to Mr. Burke. It was sold among his other remains, and purchased by Mr. Peregrine Dealtry, of Bradenham House, and after his decease in 1814 was presented by his sisters to Dr. Parr, who preserved it as one of the great ornaments and curiosities of Hatton. On his death in March 1825, it was transferred by bequest to Dr. John Johnstone, * Having' occasion to consult an eminent surg-eon in London (Sir C. B.), after beinjj a widow, he fell in love with her, :ind being- extremely rich, made an offer of a splendid settlement along with his liiiiid, which how- ever, from some scruples as to the propriety of second marriag'es, sht thought proper to decline. 1797. HIS CHARACTEK. 463 of Birmingham, in whose possession it now is. — Such is the regard felt for even trilling memorials of the great, and the desire to be the possessors. Butler's Court was burnt down on the morning of the 2.3rd of April, 1813, having been let to a clergyman named Jones, for the purpose of a school, in whose occupation the accident took place. It is remarkable that Cliefden, the seat of his intimate friend Lord Inchiquin, only five miles distant, shared the same fate a few years before, being burnt down in May 1795. Cliefden, to the loss of which Burke adverts in one of his letters is celebrated by Pope ; and there Greorge IV. passed some of his younger days. This house, a& well as Butler's Court, was built upon the plan of Buckingham House, with a grand centre connected to wings by corridors. CHAPTEE XYI. His Person — Manners — Habits — Conversational Powers and Sallies — Pri- vate Character — Ardour of Temper and imputed Irritability — Contem- porary Opinions formed of him. Ix adverting to the public and private characteristics of this celebrated man, there will be found so much to commend, that simple justice may run the risk of being deemed indis- criminate panegyric. Against this I am solicitous to guard by gi\'ing in addition to any estimate of my own of those merits the opinions of others more competent perhaps to con- vey a correct judgment. Several of these were well acquainted with hiiii, as well as with the facts they respectively state, and some being opposed to him on political to])ics will not be suspected of bestowing undeserved praise. To give a just representation of a great political character, whose life has been spent in the constant contention inse- parable at least, from the calling he pursues, is a laborious indeed, but not an impracticable undertaking. To give such a representation as shall be universally acceptable, is from the spirit of party, not always easy. A statesman is usually to the mass of the world an object of suspicion during, or near to, the time in which he lives. If there be two wavs of con- struing his conduct, the unfovourable side is commonly taken ; 464* LIFE OF BURKE. 1797. yet the contrary impression would be nearer to truth, for of all public men he is the most interested in doing, or in aiming to do right, whether he looks to the continuance of present power, or to the possession of that which every man would have if he could, namely, posthumous reputation. It is the duty therefore, of the biographer or historian diligently to attend to this ; to give even to questionable characters an attentive and impartial, if not favourable consideration. This is the business not merely of common charity but of strict justice ; for notwithstanding so many exclamations against poor human nature, much more of good is found among man- kind than we are willing to acknowledge. Many states- men, however vmpopular or imprudent in their politics, have not been without high public as well as private virtues. But on the other hand, whei'e no crimes are charged, where no suspicion attaches, and where even adversaries have been compelled to render praise, the task of the narrator is neces- sarily more agreeable. Such is the case with Mr. Burke. Judged therefore by this standard, he will be acknowledged to be not merely a great but an eminently good man, in whose character or conduct there will be found little which the most devoted admirer need be afraid to probe, little of human infirmity over which an enemy can triumph ; for his errors whatever they were, chiefly arose from pushing the passions of virtue to excess. In person he was about five feet ten inches high, erect, well-formed, never very robust ; when young, expert in the sports of his country and time, active in habits suited to his years until his last illness, and always it need scarcely be added, particularly active in mind, having nothing of what he called " that master-vice, sloth," in his composition. His countenance in early life possessed considerable sweetness, and by his female friends was esteemed hands.^me. At a later period, it did not appear to be marked, particidarly when unexcited, by expression, which from the well- known qualities of his mind many persons expected to see. But the lines of thought were evident, and when ani- mated by discussion, there was an occasional working of the brow, occasioned partly by being near-sighted, whicli let the attentive observer into the secret of the powerfid workings within. From this defective state of vision, he frequently, from about the year 1780, wore spectacles. An Irish 1797. UIS PERSON A'Sl) MANNER. 403 literary lady of talent — and ladies we may admit are competenc judges in such matters — who enjoyed the pleasure of Ins acquaintance, thus describes him to me at the age of fifty. " He was the handsomest man I recollect to liave seen ; his stature about six feet, well-made, portly, but not cor- pulent. His conntenance was such as a painter would find it difficult precisely to draw (and indeed I always understood they complained of the difficulty) : its expression frequently varying, but always full of benevolence, marked in my opinion by strong intellect, and softened by sensibility. * * * A full-length portrait of him hangs in the Examina- tion Hall of Dublin University ; the figure, features, and complexion are like his ; but the countenance, as a whole, by no means does him justice. * * * * He was a moet delightful companion, and had the art of rendering the timid easy in his company. His conversation, which was often serious and instructive, abounded at other times with wit, pleasantry, and good humour ; whatever subject he spoke upon, and he spoke upon all, lie excelled in, as if it had formed a particular study ; and jiis language though sometimes considered ornamented on public occasions, was distinguished by a fascinating simplicity, yet powerful and appropriate beyond what I can tell." — Another lady, with whose husband, who was a relation, he occasionally spent a day in Lamb's Conduit Street in London, describes him nearly in the same terms — " His address frank, yet dignified ; his conversation interesting and various ; and, particularly in female society, playful and amusing in a high degree." — The best pictiu-es of him are those painted by Eeynolds, Eomney and Barry, from one of the former of which tlie engraving which accompanies this volume is taken. The original is in possession of Earl Eitzwilliam, being be- queathed to him by Mrs. Burke. That which hangs in the Examination Theatre of the University of Dublin was taken at a much later period of life, tlie face shorter than in Sir Joshua's, with something of contemplative severity in the ex- pression. A better likeness, as is commonly said, is that modelled in wax and finely finished by T. R. Poole, but it should be remembered that it was taken at a later period of life than any of the pictures. Of the bust by Hickey, which has been noticed aa having beep, presented by his nephew, Mr. Havilaud 2 n 4GG Llf£ Of BURKE. 1797. Burke, to jlie British Museum, the history is somewhat curious. It appears that Queen Caroline, when Princess of Wales, professing; great admiration of Mr. Burke, wrote to Mrs. Biu'ke at Butler's Court, requesting permission for a cast to be taken from the bust in her possession for a collection which she was then making of the celebrated men of the British nation. Mrs. Burke, pleased at having due honour paid to her husbaiid, and conceiving that this memorial of him could not be better or more safely placed than in royal custody, offered to her Eoyal Highness's acceptance a present of the bust itself. The offer was ac- cepted. No such collection however as had been stated, was ever formed. At the sale of her Boyal Highness's effects at Connaught House, the bust having been found amid some household rubbish, received among other articles a place in the catalogue of the auctioneer. In this situation Mrs. Thomas Haviland heard of it, and gave a commission to have this relic of her uncle privately purchased ; but the sum de- manded being exorbitant, it was thought better to await public sale. Here, a strong contest for its possession ensued with Turnerelli, the sculptor, who expressed some anxiety for its acquisition upon which he put a high value ; and to him in consequence of a mistake of the agent of Mrs. Haviland, it was knocked down. A dispute arising, it was again put up. Tiu'uerelli in the mean time finding that as a relative of Mr. Burke had determined on the purchase, further contention on his part would be vain, relinquished his opposition, and therefore it was eventually procured for a comparatively small sum. Like Mr. Fox, Burke appeared somewhat negligent in dress, being latterly distinguished by a tight brown coat seeming to impede freedom of motion and a little bob-wig with curls, which in addition to spectacles, made his person recognizable by those who had never previously seen him the moment he rose to speak in the House of Commons. Though an ardent lover of poetry, which he prized at every period of life, and more especially that of Milton* as furnish- * like Johnson, Goldsmith, and many others, he had a very poor opinion, p,s is evident in liis letter of criticism on the arts to Bnrry, of Ossian ; besides which, three-fourths at le^st, he said, of the productions ascribed to that ancient he considered to be forg-eries, so entirely, that the writer had not even tradition to build upon thouirh in others no doubt he liad made use of local and romantic tales. ' IVothing," he said, " but i L797. PECULIARITIES I^' PEIA^ATE LIFE. 46l mg the grandest imagery in the language, yet conti-ary to tl^ common idea that love for poetry and for music go together he had little ear for the latter. Mr. Fox, it is known, had none at all ; and it has been remarked that the ears of Mr. Pitt and Dr. Johnson were equally tuneless. From the sliglit peculiarity in his gait noticed in a previous page, Sir Joshua who as an artist had an eye to these things, used to say that it sometimes gave him the idea of his having two left legs. He received people frequently in the library and dressing- room ; and here when busily occupied on important subjects, which during much of his parliamentary life was the case, he was accustomed to dictate letters with apparently careless facility. With wTitings intended for the press he was on the contrary fastidious. Great pains and frequent and careful revisions were expended upon such whenever lie aimed at making a strong impression. Blots and erasures were of course numerous, so as to render his manuscripts frequently difficult to decipher to those not accustomed to the task. The matter itself of his compositions was rarely altered ; but the arrangement, illustration, and turn of the sentences, very frequently. Habit however had rendered the most perspicuous modes of expression so familiar, tliat in this respect his most hastily written and confidential communications ofter little for critical remark. His address in private life possessed something of a chivalrous air — noble in bearing, yet unaffected and unre- served, impressing upon strangers of every rank bv his force and novelty of remark the conviction of being a remarkable man. " Sir," said Johnson, to exemplify this, " if Burke were to go into a stable to give directions about his horse, the ostler would say, ' We have had an extraordinary man here.' " His manner in mixed society was unobtrusive, surrendering at once his desire to talk to any one who had, or who thought he had, the least claim to be heard. " AVhere a loud-tongued talker was in company," writes Cumberland, "Edmund Burke declined all claims upon attention." When Johnson one evening seized upon every topic of discourse that was started, and an auditor after quitting the company, remarked to Burke that he should have liked to hear more from another person, meaning him, " Oh no," replied the latter, " it is enough for me to have rung the bell to him." To the lower the blind nationality of Scotchmen themselves gave the least countenance to the imposture. ' 468 LIFE OF BrEKE. 1797. class of people, It has been remarked, he was always affable.- When a youth who was on a visit to him at Beaconsfield, treated the respectful salutation of a servant somewhat negli- gently Mr. Burke called him aside, and terminated a remon- strance on the subject by saying, " Never permit yourself to be outdone in courtesy by your inferiors." Of literary society he was always fond, preferring it more perhaps thau his own political interests demanded, to that which was merely distinguished by rank and fashion. His conversational powers partook of the same fulness of mind which distinguished his eloquence. They never ran dry ; the supply for the subject always exceeded the demand. " Burke," said Juhnson — and the admiration of such a man is of itself a passport to fame—" is never what we call hum- drum ; never in a hurry to begin conversation, at a loss to carry it on, or eager to leave ott'." On many other occa- sions the moralist celebrated the excellence of " his talk," and though in some degree of a diti'erent character from his own, it was rarely less instructive, and little less forcible. Among friends, his sallies of thought were frequently of a serious cast, sometimes philosophical, sometimesmoral,the ele- vation of the sentiment commonly forming a contrast to the uuaftected simplicity with which it was delivered— for here he did not often play the orator A profound reflection, or great moral truth, often slipped from him as if by accident, without seeming to have cost any trouble in the elaboration. AV'hile Johnson's throes in the delivery of bright thoughts were sometimes obvious, and he took care by a loud and authoritative manner, to force the oflspring of wit or wisdom upon his hearers. What we have of the sayings of Burke make us anxious for more. He has himself indeed drawn up the line-of-battle of his genius to the public gaze in his works ; but who does not regret that he had no Boswell in attendance to note down the transient sallies of playful and social hours— to collect and arrange for posterity the flying squadron of his brain ? Wiien Croft's Life of Dr. Young was spoken of as a good imitation of Johnson's style, "No, no," said he, "it is not a good imitation of Johnson ; it has all his pomp without his force ; it has all the nodosities of the oak without its streufth ; it has all the contortions of the sybil without the inspiration." Speaking of the new sect of philosophers of J793, " These fellows," said he. " have a wrong; twist in theix 1797. HIS RATTNoa. 4G9 heads, which ten to one gives them a wrong twist in their liearts also." When told of G-odwin's definition of gratitude in Political Justice, " I should take care to spare him the commission of the opposite vice by never conferring upon hini a favour." " Swaggering paradoxes," he added, "when exa- mined, often sneak into pitiful logomachies." Of reasoning upon political theories, he observed, " The majors make a pompous figure in the battle, but the victory of truth depends upon the little minor of circumstances." When a present of wine to the Literary Club was almost expended, he playfully observed, " I understand the hogshead of claret which this society was favoured with by the Dean (Barnard) is nearly out : I think .^e should be written to, to send another of the same kiuvx. Let the request be made with a happy ambiguity of expression, so that we may have the chance of his sending it also as a present." Dr. Johnson was voted secretary, or dictator for the occasion. " Were I your dictator," said the moralist, " you should have no wine. It would be my business, cavere ne quid detrimenti Bespuhlica caperet, and wine is dangerous. Korae was ruined by luxury." "If you allow no wine as dictator," said Burke, " you shall not have me for your master of horse." Like Johnson, he preferred London as a place of constant residence, in order to avoid the inquisitorial remarks of a .country town. Boswell observes on this, " Mr. Burke, whose orderly and amiable domestic habits might make the eye of observation less irksome to him than to most men, said once very pleasantly in my hearing, ' Though I have tlie honour to represent Bristol, I should not like to live there ; I should be obliged to be so much upon my good behaviour.^ '' On the question whether a man would live his life over again if it were in his power, he used an ingenious argument. "Everyman (said he) would live his life over again; for every man is willing to go on and make an addition to his life, which as he grows older he has no reason to think will be better, or even so good as what has preceded." He had a very poor opinion of the merits, literary or moral, of the *' Beggar's Opera." " There is nothing exhibited in that piece (said he) which a correct man would wish to see, and nothing taught in it which any man would wish to learn." A-t table his habits were temperate, preferring the lighter to the stronger wines, in opposition to Johnson's gradation 470 LITE OF BLHKE, 1797 of liquors, " claret fo.' boys, port for men, brandy for heroes ;" " then," said Burke, " give me claret, for I like to be a boy, and partake of the honest hilarity of youth." At a later period of life, when exhausted by mental exertion, or attacks of in- digestion arising from close application, he was accustomed to take large quantities of water, as hot as it could be drank ; " warm water, (said he) sickens, but hot water stimulates." In allusion partly to this habit, the writer of a piece in imi- tation of " Eetaliation," who applies the different kinds of wine, as Goldsmith had done dishes, to his characters— as port to Johnson, cliampagne to Grai'rick, burgundy to Rey- nolds, thus says of the orator : To Burke a pure libation bring', Fresh dnnvn from pure Cdsfalian spring'; With civic oak the goblet bind, Fit emblem of his patriot mind ; Let Clio as his taster sip, And Hermes hand it to his lip. An amiable feature in his disposition was dislike to any- thing like detraction, or that insinuation against private character too often tolerated even in what is called good society, which without amounting to slander, produces nearly similar eftects. When this occurred in his own house by any one with whom he was familiar, he would directly check it, or drop a hint to that effect — " JS^ow that you have begun with his defects," he would say, " I presume you mean to finish with a catalogue of his good qualities ;" and sometimes said, though mildly, " censoriousness is allied to none of the virtues." When remarks of this kind were introduced by others whom it might have been rude to interrupt, he took the part of the accused by apologies, or by urging a different construction of their actions, and as soon as he could, changed tlie subject ; exemplifying the ad\4ce he once fami- liarly and wisely gave to a grave and anxious acquaintance prone to querulous lamentations, " Eegard not trifles, my dear Sir ; live pleasantly." A dispute occurring with the lord of the manor in which his property at Beaconsfield was situated, about the right of ownership in a number of oak trees which stood outside of the park-paling, it was referred to the decision of a court of law. So confident was his adversary of gaining the ca\:se, that he had directed the bell-ringers to be in readiness, the luoment the news arrived, to celebrate his victory. The 1797. ms WIT. 471 result proved contrary to what lie expected ; and Mr. Burke's servants, thinking their master entitled to the same demon- stration of village joy upon liis success, were proceeding to express it, when hearing what was going on he gave peremp- tory orders to desist. " It is bad enough to quan-el with a neighbour," said he, " without attempting to triumph over him ;" and added, when the intention of the other was urged, " What he might have done is of no consequence ; it is ne- cessary to consider what / should do." Johnson, who denied him scarcely any other talent or merit, would not admit that he possessed wit ; he always got into the mire, he said, by attempting it. Wilkes, however, who certainly was no mean judge of that faculty, thought differently ; so did Boswell ; so did Windham ; so did Courtenay, himself a wit, who thus commences an ode ad- dressed to Malone, from Bath — Whilst you illumine Shakspeare's pag'e, And dnre the future critic's rag'e, Or on the past refine ; Here many an eve I pensive sit. No Burke pours out the stream of wit, No Boswf 11 joys o'er wine. Dr. Robertson, the historian, maintained he had a great flow of wit, as his surprising allusions, brilliant sallies of vivacity, and novel and ingenious conceits exhibited daily in his conversation and speeches in Parliament, furnished evi- dence. Dr. Beattie entertained the same opinion. Alluding to the disinclination of Johnson to admit the possession of this talent in men to whom the world generally allowed it, he says, in one of his letters ; "Even Lord Cliestertield, and what is more strange, even Mr. Burke, he would not allow^ to have wit." Sir Joshua Reynolds like\\'ise agreed in the opinion of his fertility in wit, observing, " That he has often heard Burke say in the course of an evening ten good things, each of which would have served a noted wit (whom he named) to live upon for a twelvemonth." Nearly the same opinion was entertained and expressed by many successive Houses of Commons, and more especially by those members, and they were no small number, who smarted under its lash — and among whom were frequent exclamations againsc " the wantonness of his wit and the licentiousness of his eloquence," — the former a cuality Avhich as an auxiliary in 472 LIFE OF BUKKE. 1797 debate wlien under prudent management and subservient to something more solid, he found very etiective. Lord North Avas in this respect his only competitor ; and Mr. Sheridan afterwards occasionally his only superior. Mr. Pitt, when he had no more eftectual answer to give to the keener sallies of the Member for Malton, which was not unfrequently the case in the war of words they had so long carried on, once termed them, " the overflowings of a mind, the richness of whose wit was unchecked for the time by its wisdom ;" and an able anonymous writer, during the American war, among other distinguishing characteristics of his mind, particularly points to his " sarcastic wdt." All reports of his speeches in the earlier part of his career continually allude to "his wit." For Johnson's remark there was some foundation in occa- sional fits of pvmning to which he gave way round the social table among intimate friends, in order as he said, to amuse the ladies ; and these were sometimes so indifferent as to draw down smart rallies from his niece, Miss French, with " Eeally, uncle, that is very poor." " There now, you have quite spoiled it ; we expected something better." But there Avas some little malicious pleasure even in his failures ; for the less credit he gained by his efforts, the more he was accustomed to smile at the disappointment of those who were in expectation of hearing something very fine. This play upon words was not always dignified, as we find in the conclusion of a note to Mrs. Haviland, in allusion to the military title of her husband : — " In order that I may turn over a new leaf wdth you, in wishing you, and all with you, in General, and in particular, a thousand and one happy years — when may every one of them, and even the odd one, be as pleasant, but a little more real than the Thousand and one Arabian Entertainments ! This we all cordially wish. INIrs. Balfour is well, to all appearance, of all rheumatism. May you all be well of all complaints. God bless you. Tours ever, my dear Madam, Sirs, young and middle aged — for selfV wife, and son, &c." His more amusing sallies did not lie, like Johnson's, in cutting repartee, as in a more playful strain, though by no means destitute of pungency ; sometimes quaint and humourous, sometimes coarse enough ; frequently of classical origin or allusion, as several of the specimens preserved by Boswell evince ; but without the biting severity of the lexi- 1797. nis WTT. — piExr. 473 cographer which he characterized on one occioion very promptly and, happily in reply to Dr. Robertson the histo- rian, who observing that Johnson's rebukes were but "right- eous oil which did not break the head ;" " Oil !" replied jNIr. Burke, " oil of \dtriol!" When his friend the Eev. Dr, JMai'lay was appointed to the Deanery of Ferns, " I do not like the name,'' said he, " it sounds so like a larren title." Alluding to livings, he observed that Horace had a good one in view, in speaking of — Est modus in rebus sunt certi deniqiie fines ; which he translated, "a modus in the tithes and fines certain." When some one inquired whether the Isle of Man was worth a journey thither to see, " By all means," said Burke, " the proper study of onankind is many Boswell, when trying to give a definition of man, called him a coohing ?imma\.; "Tour definition is good," replied Burke ; " I now see the full force of the common, proverb, ' there is reason in the roasting of eggs.' " When the same industrious chronicler was describing some learned ladies assembled around, and vying in attention to a Avorthy and tall friend of theirs (Johnson), "Ay," said Mr. Burke, " like maids round a may-pole." In allusion to the chairing of Mr. Wilkes, he applied to it Horace's description of Pindar's numbers, " Fertur mimeris lege solufis,'^ altering the second word to humeris ; he (Willies) is carried on shoulders uncontrolled hy law. Conversing with a young gentleman from Ireland of better birth and capacity than fortune, who was venting his indignation against the purse- proud arrogance of some Scotch trader who had, according to his account, made his money chiefly by dealing in help, and who in consequence of his wealth, looked down with affected superiority on gentlemen by birtli and by accom- plishments, " Aye," replied Burke, " he thinks " Et genus et virtus nisi cum re vilior alg'a est." A higher feature of his character than wit, was a fervent and unfeigned spirit of piety, cheerful but humble, unallied to any thing like fanaticism, and expressive of deep depen- dence on the dispensations of Providence, traces of which are to be found in the letters of his boyhood. He had been early taught, as he publicly mentioned, to study the sacred volume with reverence, and thence an intimate acquaintance with its lessons and phraseology rested on his mind, and may be seen in his subsequent writ'ngs and speeches, some- 474 LIFE OF BURKE. 1797. times to a fault. In that great trial of fortitude, the loss of his sou, the most aflecting lamcutatious are accompauied by confessions of his weakness, the vanity of his desires, and whatever he might wish or think to the contrary, the superior wisdom of the Divine decree in disposing of him as he thought proper. He preferred the Church of England to all others, as on the whole the most pure and estimable, liike Johnson, he viewed Eoman Catholics with more favour tlian others were inclined to show, and latterly much more than at an earlier period. Proceeding still further than him, he professed strong regard for dissenters, from which if he ever swerved for a moment it was in the alarming •situation of the country in 1792, when the leaders of that body sunk the cliaracter of ministers of religion in that of a violent and questionable order of politicians. His moral character stood unimpeached by anything that approached to vice. " The unspotted innocence, the firm integrity of Burke," said Dr. Parr, "want no emblazoning, and if he is accustomed to exact a rigorous account of the moral conduct of others (in public matters), it is justified in one who shuns not the most inquisitorial scrutiny into hia own." Unlike a few of his greatest contemporaries, he made neither the bottle nor the dice his household deities. He had no taste for pursuits that kill time rather than pass it. " I have no time," said he, "to be idle." In the country, tlie mornings often at an early hour, were devoted to agri- cultural pursuits, with a zeal and intelligence which soon enabled him to assume and deserve the name of a practical farmer. In town they were usually appropriated to study literary composition, or political business, bending his way in the afternoon to the House of Commons, wlience he re- turned on the termination of business, sometimes to literary society, more frequently fatigued and occasionally fretted, to the soothing comforts of his own fireside. " JVo wonder" said he, jocularly, on some occasions, " that my friend Charles (Fox) is so often more vigorous than I in the House; for when I call upon him in my way thither, jaded by the occupations of tlie day, tliere he is just out of bed, break- fasting at three o'clock, fresh and unexhausted for the con- tentious of the evening." The same afiectionate disposition which Shackleton re- marked in the boy, continued through life in the domestic 1797. HIS CIIAEACTER I?T CHABBE. 475 relations of the man. His duties there might be said in a pecu- liar degree, to be his pleasures ; aud oue of tlie best proofs of it was the cordial attachment and unanimity prevailing in a large family connexion, of which he formed the centre. He never forgot an old friend or an obligation, often lament- ing that his short tenure of power precluded the possibility of givir.g them, as he could have wished, substantial proofs of his regard. His philanthi'opy, which frequently drew praises IVom his political antagonists, was often appealed to by numerous begging letters, sometimes requiring a large portion of the morning to peruse and to answer ; and liis exertions for some of the superior class of applicants, such as literary men and others, were occasionally repaid with gross ingratitude. His hospitality was always greater than his means, aud at no time did he appear to more advantage than when doing the honours of his house and table. The Poet Crabbe, who profited so largely by his active friendship, adds his testimony to that of many others — " Of his private worth, of his wishes to do good ; of his aflability and condescension ; his readiness to lend assistance where ke knew it was wanted ; and his delight to give praise where he thought it was deserved." " All know," continues he, " that his powers were vast, his acquirements various, and I take leave to add, that he applied them with unremitting attention to those objects which he believed tended to the honour and welfare of his country ; but it may not be so generally understood that he was very assiduous in the more pri\ate duties of a benevolent nature ; that he delighted in giving encouragement to any promise of ability, and assist- ance to any appearance of desert. To what purposes he em- ployed his pen, and with wliat eloquence he spake in tlie senate will be told by many, who yet may be ignorant of the solid instruction as well as the fascinating pleasantry found in his common conversation among his friends ; and his affectionate manners, amiable disposition, and zeal for their happiness, which he manifested in the hours of retire- ment with his family." Partaking of the warm temperament of his country, such resentments as were felt were promptly expressed ; yet the instances were few, ami but momentary. During a long and tempestuous public life, esteem was often won from oppo- nents ; nor is it remembered that he was engaged in any 476 LIFE OF BUEKE, 1797. personal squabble, excepting when Wedderburne made him an apology. It has been said, though untruly, that he bore ill-will toward Mr. Fox after their quarrel. So far is this from being the case, that though freely condemning his politics, he spoke of him otherwise among private friends with affection, saying, " he was a man made to be loved ; there was not a particle of gall in his composition." It has been shown that a dangerous and obnoxious public course in his view alone prevented a renewal of as cordial a friend- ship as had ever existed between them. He valued himself, he said, for the regard that gentleman had once professed for him, and felt proportional regret on its cessation. It is true, that he occasionally gave way to sudden starts of irritability, but these were transient — scarcely exliibited before they were subdued. A single instance of this kind occurring in public is commonly sufficient to fix the charge perpetually on him who displays it. Such was the case with Burke. Stories are therefore told of him wholly untrue, and those that possess a shade of truth are exaggerated. Such is the following, which occasionally finds a place in magazinea and newspapers, and may be taken as a sample of the class, and amuse the lovers of anecdote. " The irritability of Burke is well known, and was strongly exemplified on many occasions in Hastings's impeachment, in his conduct not only towards his opponen«ts, but also towards his colleagues. On one occasion, Mr. Michael Angelo Taylor had nearly fallen a victim to this infirmity. Burke had put a question, the only one, it is said, which he had ever put that was unexceptionable both in substance and in form. Mr. Law, the late Lord Ellenborough, one of Hastings's counsel, objected to it, and was stating the grounds of his objection, when perceiving Mr. M. A. Taylor entering the manager's box, he congratulated the House that the candour and legal experience of the learned manager, meaning Mr. Taylor, would at once induce him to admit that such a question could not be put consistently with those rules of evidence with which his learned friend was so emi- nently conversant. Upon which, Mr. Taylor, who had never before been so respectfully referred to as an autho- ritv, (and who was worked upon like the crow in the fable, complimented on his singing), coming forward, requested the learned counsel to restate the question, which Mr. Law 1797. TREEDOM mOM JEALOUSY. 477 having clone, Mr. T. instantly observed that it was impossi- ble to contend that it -was admissible. On tliis, Mr. Burke, forgetting every thing but his question, seized Mr. Taylor by the collar, exclaiming, ' Ton little villain ! put him in irons, put him in irons !' dragged him down, and had almost succeeded in throttling him,- when Mr. Tox came to his rescue. The scene is by no one more pleasantly described than by Mr. Micliael Angelo Taylor himself." Not the least of his merits was in being so free from jealousy of contemporary talent, as often to surrender to others during the hrst sixteen years of Parliamentary life^ the reputation of constitutional measures which he not only suggested, but chiefly achieved. The Nullum Tempus act, the Jury bill, the first relief to the Roman Catholics, and many others, were of this class. It may appear, and no doubt is, a very unusual eSbrt of generosity, that any public man who had to work up-hill every step of his way to eminence, should do this to a certain degree in liis own wrong, by bestowing upon others that which was calculated to ensure to himself honest and undisputed fame. The fact was he always looked to the success of his party, while too many others regarded that which was chiefly personal to themselves. He alludes with evident satisi'aetion, to this liberality of spirit in the retrospect of his political cai'eer contained in the Letter to a Noble Lord. In speaking of the popularity and lead he had acquired in the troubled period, from 1780 to 1782, " when wild and savage insurrec- tion quitted the woods, and prowled about our streets in the name of reform ;" he says — " I know well enough how equivocal a test this kind of popular opinion forms of the merit that obtained it. I am no stranger to the insecurity of its tenure. I do not boast of it. It is mentioned to show, not how highly I prize the thing, but my right to value the use I made of it. I en- deavoured to turn that short lived advantage to myself into a permanent benefit to my country. Far am I from detracting from the merit of some gentlemen, out of ofiice, or in it, on that occasion. No ! — It is not my wish to refuse a full and heaped measure of justice to the aids that I receive. I have, through life, been willing to give every thing to others, and to reserve notliing for myself, but the jnward conscience that I had omitted no pains to discover^ 478 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1797. to animate, to discipline, to direct the abilities of the country for its service and to place them in the best light to im- prove their age, or to adorn it ; — this conscience I have. I have never suppressed any man ; never checked him for a moment in his course by any jealousy, or by any policy. I was always ready to the height of my means, (and they were always infinitely below my desires) to forward those abilities which overpowered my own ; — he is an ill-furnished under- taker who has no machinery but his own hands to work with." The allusions here to Mr. Fox, are obvious. And to such discipline, teaching, and prompting of that popular man, there is no question but he owed much of his fame. He himself had the candour as we know, to acknowledge on four different occasions in the House of Commons, that to these he owed nearly it all. One of the defects of Burke approached so near to what "is often a virtue, that we find it sometimes difficult to draw the line between them. It was that heat, or ardour of tempe- rament, which by meeting with much opposition in pursuing a measure that he had once satisfied himself was right, sometimes became zeal, sometimes irritability, sometimes obstinacy, sometimes passion, in its support. " Exquisite powers," writes Lord Buchan, in a letter to Bonomi, the artist, in allusion to this characteristic of the Irish orator, " has its root in exquisite sensibility." And this peculiar sensitiveness of genius has been so often noted as one of its marked features, that perhaps we are scarcely at liberty to lament what appears to possess some occult connexion with its excellence. Frequent observation assures us that some of the strongest minds are under the dominion of very powerful feelings and passions, and by the stimulus which these supply to the reason, enable it to accomplish much which minds equally great, without such strong excitements, would be unable or unwilling to attempt. Thus, the mild spirit of Melancthon could not perhaps have done the work of Luther, Calvin, or Knox. Thus, Mr, Fox alone, or Mr. Pitt in all probability, could not have excited the public mind on the American war as Mr, Burke by the variety of his powers and passions excited it. It is almost certain that they could never have overcome the unpopularity of the trial of Hastings, as was done at least for a time by him. It is unquestionable that it was not within the range of the powers of either or of both to in* 1797. lEMPEEAMENT ON PUBLIC QUESTIONS. 479 fluence the nation as he influenced it on the question of tlio French Eevolution. Men constituted as he was, uniting ex- traordinary acquirements with invincible zeal, perseverance, and genius, are peculiarly cut out by nature for important and trying exigencies. He has a remark himself in the letter witliout his name written to Barry on his pictures in the Society of Arts to the effect that " a vigorous mind is as necessarily accompanied with violent passions as a great fire with great heat '' " Strong passion," said he, at another time, and the observation displays much knowledge of character, "under the direction of a feeble reason feeds a low fever, which serves only to destroy the body that enter- tains it. But vehement passion does not always indicate an infirm judgment. It often accompanies, and actuates, and is even auxiliary to a powerful understanding; and when they both conspire and act harmoniously, their force is great to destroy disorder within and to repel injury from abroad." '' No revolution (in public sentiment), civil or religious," says Sir Gilbert Elliot, writing in 175 1 to the historian Kobertson, "can be accomplished without that degree of ardour and passion which in a later age will be matter of ridicule to men who do not feel the occasion, and enter into the spirit of the times." Useful as this peculiar frame of mind is — and few great things have been accomplished without it — the effect is sometimes prejudicial when carried into the discussion of ordinary affairs, fitted for ordinary men, in the House of Commons, as he himself occasionally experienced. It sometimes led him to express undue warmth and positive- ness in matters of inferior moment ; and by seeming to master his temper was also believed by those who did not know him well, to interfere with the due exercise of his judgment. To some who neither saw so far nor so clearly into the tendency of measures as himself, it had the appear- ance of arrogance ; to some, of dictation, of obstinacy, or intractability. It gave rise not unfrequently to illiberal surmises that he must have some personal interest in matters which he urged with so much heat and pertinacity ; and im- paired the effect of his eloquence on the opposite benches of the body whom he had to address, by an opinion however unfounded, that his views at times sprang from momentary passion or impulse rather than from mature deliberation. 480 LIFE OP BunKE. 1797. "Are you so little conversant with my father ?" writes tha younger Burke in 1790 to Philip Francis, " as to feel no deference for his judgment, or to mistake the warmth of his manner for the heat of his mind?" Convinced by diligent thought of being riglit, he was somewhat impatient of not being able to convince others by the same process. He did not perhaps make sufficient allowance for inferior understandings, duller appreliensions, more defective in- formation ; or always consider that as even moral truths are sometimes of slow progress among mankind, so political truth as involving another class of interests is received with still more caution from those who happen not to possess political power, and who are therefore suspected of aiming only to acquire it. He was early informed of this peculiarity in his public temperament, and expresses an intention to amend it so far back as 1777. The passage, which is re- markable for advising Mr. Fox to beware of the same error, is contained in the letter written to him in Irelaiul — " I remember some years ago, when I was pressing some points with great eagerness and anxiety, and complaining with great vexation to the Duke of Eichmond of the little progress I made, he told me kindly, and I believe very trvdy, that though he was far from thinking so himself, other people could not be persuaded I had not some latent private interest in pushing these matters, which I urged with an earnestness so extreme and so much approaching to passion. He was cer- tainly in the right. I am thoroughly resolved to give both to myself and to my friends less vexation on these subjects than hitherto I have done ; — much less indeed. If ?/om should grow too earnest, you will be still more inexcusable than I was. Tour having entered into aftairs so much younger ought to make them too familiar to you to be the cause of nuieh agitation." On another occasion he adverted in the House to this point of character — " an earnest and anxious perseverance of mind which with all its good and all its evil effects is moulded into my nature." In private life it wfis never offensive and rarely observable, except when em}doyed in pushing the interests of his friends, or in the duties of humanity and charity. In examining a few of his more marked features of mind, there will be found peculiarities almost contradictory in their natare ; qualities which if not inconsistent witk 1797. ESTIMATES OF HIS CHARACTEB. 481 eaeli other have been so rarely conjoined in tlie same person as to be thought inconsistent. &ome of the more striking are, a variety in his powers ahnost unbounded, brilliancy which enchains imagination, solidity which satisfies the judg- ment and a fancy singularly excursive in pursuit of striking and alluring figures, which thus brings the acquisitions of genius to the service of persuasion and truth, while to tliese may be added wisdom which when employed in the afi'airs of mankind was rigidly pinned down to the plain and straight- forward, such as Avas founded only upon experience ana practice. This is so unusual a combination of qualities that perhaps another instance is not to be found. He not merely excelled all his contemporaries in the number of his powers, but in the peculiar excellence belonging to each. We find him a tolerable poet even while a boy, a penetrating philo- sopher, an acute critic, a judicious historian when a very young man, a judge of the fine arts whose opinions even Reynolds valued, a political economist when the science was scarcely known in this country or known to very few, a statesman often pronounced one of the wisest tliat ever adorned our country, an orator second to none of any age, a writer of ex- traordinary powers on every subject, and on politics the very first for depth and eloquence ; and in addition to these, pos- sessed of a vast and multifarious store of general knowledge of which all who enjoyed his conversation, whether friend or opponent, have spoken in terms of admiration and surprise. Like the celebrated Berkeley bishop of Cloyne, whose philo- sophy regarding matter he had once set himself the task to refute, there was nothing useful of whicli he could be said to be ignorant. The testimonies borne to these talents and acq^uirements during so many years by Dr. Johnson, a few of which have been repeated in this work and more are to be found in Boswell's amusing volumes, form of themselves a stamp of fame. Even while travelling in tlie Hebrides this favourite topic of the great moralist Avas not forgotten. " I do not," said he to Boswell, alluding to what he considered inferior minds who had acquired a lead they did not deserve in public affairs, " grudge Bui-ke being the first man in the House of Commons, for he is the fi^rst man every where." Lord Thurlow, after many years of pohtical bickering and whose judgment in consequence was not likeh to be biassed by un- 2 I 482 LIFE OF BTTRKE, . 1797. due partiality, spoke a language not less strong, when in a private company where there was allusion to the comparative merits of the three great orators and statesmen of the age, he observed — ■" The name of Burke will be remembered with admiration, when those of Pitt and Fox will be comparatively forgotten." The celebrated Mirabeau was known to speak of him more than once with great applause, and what was more singular, delivered in the National Assembly on several occasions large passages, with some trivial alterations from the printed speeches and writings of Burke, as his own. On being reproached with tliis once, he admitted the fact, apolo- gising for it by saying that he had not had time to arrange his own thoughts on some of the many topics he was obliged to discuss, and that in no other productions could he find such an union of argument and eloquence. As coming from tlie pen of the scarcely less celebrated opponent of Mirabeau, the following possesses much interest, written just after his decease ; it was at first attributed to Peltier, but was really written by M. Cazales ; " Died at his house at Beaconsfield, with that simple dignity, that un- ostentatious magnanimity so consonant to the tenour of his life and actions, the Bight Honourable Edmund Burke. There never was a more beautiful alliance between virtue and talents. All his conceptions were grand, all his senti- ments generous. The great leading trait of his character, and that which gave it all its energy and its colour, was that strong hatred of vice which is no other than the passionate love of virtue. It breathes in all his •wi-itings ; it was the guide of all his actions. But even the force of his eloquence was insufficient to transfuse it into the weaker or perverted minds of his contemporaries. This has caused much of the miseries of Europe ; this has rendered of no effect towards her salvation the sublimest talents, the greatest and rarest vii'tues that the beneficence of Providence ever concentred in a single character for the benefit of mankind. But Mr. Burke was too superior to the age in which he lived. Hia prophetic genius only astonished the nation which it ought to have governed." ]\Ir. Windham, a devoted friend and admirer, often expressed similar sentiments, and in the same spirit as the concluding sentence of the preceding passage, wrote in a private letter about this time, what as a Ministei it would not perhaps have been quite so decorous toward* 1797. ESTIMATES OE HIS CHA.EACTEE. 483 his colleagues to say in public, " I do not reckon it amongst the least calamities of the times, certainly not among those that affect me least, that the world has now lost Mr. Burke. Oh ! how much may we rue that his counsels were not fol- lowed ! Oh ! how exactly do we see verified all that he has predicted." On the first allusion to the French Revolution in 1790, Mr. Pox said that " his reverence for the judgment of his righ> honourable friend was unfeigned; for that if he were to put all the political information he had gained from books, all that he had learned from science, and all that the know- ledge of the world and its affairs had taught him, into one great scale, and the improvement he had derived from the conversation and instruction of his right honourable friend in the other, the latter would preponderate." ISome time afterwards he repeated that "from him he had learned nearly all his political knowledge." At the moment of their dis- union he observed, "that however they might differ on present matters, he must still look to his honourable friend as his master ;" adding upon the same occasion, " He must again repeat that all he ever knew of men, that all he ever read in books, that all his reasoning faculties informed him of, or his fancy suggested to him, did not impart that exalted knowledge, that superior information, which he had acquired from the lessons of his right honourable friend. To him he owed all his fame, if fame he had any. And if lie (Mr. Fox) should now or at any time prevail over him in discussion, he could acknowledge his gratitude for the capability and pride of the conquest in telling hiui — Hoc ipsum quod vincit id est tuum.' " At the moment of proposing his interment in "Westminstei Abbey, he again repeated the same acknowledgments in terms which, in the words of a Member in attendance, " drew tears from every one present who had any feelings at all, or could sympathize in the excellence of the great genius then before them, or with the still greater excellence of the genius who had departed." When some one expressed an opinion tliat Burke was sometimes only a sophist, though an extraordinarily eloquent one, Mr. Fox is said to have immediately remarked, tliat he entertained a very different opinion. " The eloquence of 484 LIFE OF BUEEE. 1797. Mr. Burke," continued he, " is not the greatest of his powers : it is often a veil over his wisdom : moderate his more vehement salhes, lower his language, withdraw his imagery, and you will find that he is more wise than elo- quent : you will have your full weight of the metal, though you should melt down the chasing." — " Burke," said Mr. Gerard Hamilton (whom Mr. Grattan pronounced a great judge of men and things), at the period of their greatest coolness, " understands every thing but gaming and music. In the House of Commons I sometimes think him only the second man in England ; out of it he is always the first." The unknown author of the ' Pursuits of Literature,' who seems to liave no other point of agreement with Dr. Parr, agrees with him at least in rapturous eulogy of Burke^ scattered through a variety of passages of his work, in verse and in prose, in Greek, in Latin, in English, and all of them in no ordinary terms, ' First in the East,' ' Kegent of Day,' ' Luminary of Europe,' ' great and unequalled man,' " who opened the eyes of the whole nation to the systems of inter- nal destruction and irreversible misery which awaited it, and who only displayed them to confound and wither them by his powers," applying to him the praise of Paterculus to Cicero — " Aiiimo vidit, ingenio complexus est, eloquentia illuminavit." " Let me," says Dr. Parr, " speak what my mind prompts Df the eloquence of Burke — of Burke, by whose sweetness Athens herself would have been soothed, with whose ampli- tude and exuberance she would have been enraptured, and on whose lips that prolific mother of genius and science would have adored, confessed, the Goddess of Persuasion." " Who is there," adds the same learned critic, "among men of eloquence or learning more profoundly versed in every branch of science ? Who is there that has cultivated phi- losophy, the parent of all that is illustrious in literature, or exploit, with more felicitous success ? Who is there that can transfer so happily the result of laborious and intricate research to the most familiar and popular topics ? Who is there that possesses so extensive yet so accurate an ac- quaintance with every transaction recent or remote ? Who is there that can deviate from his subject for the purposes of delight with such engaging ease, and insensibly conduct his 1 1797. ESTIMATES OT HIS CHAEACTEE. 485 readers from the severity of reasoning to the festivity of vrit ? "Who is there that cau melt them if the occasion re- quires with such resistless pov^'er to grief or pity ? AVho is there that combines the charm of inimitable grace and urbanity "with such magnificent and boundless expansion r" Mr. Curwen, whose political opinions have been already noticed, thus writes of him on viewing Ballitore, the scene of his early acquisitions in knowledge. " The admiration, nay astonishment, with which I so often listened to Mr. Burke gave an interest to every spot connected with his memory, and forcibly lirought to my recollection the pro- fundity and extent of his knowledge, while the energy, warmth, and beauty of his imagery captured the heart, and made the judgment tributary to his will. As an orator he surpassed all his contt mporaries, and was perhaps nevei exceeded." Another Parliamentary contemporary and supporter pre- vious to the French Revolution, but who was so incurably bitten by that event that he never recovered a sober under- standing, acknowledges amidst several gross misrepresen- tations, " The political knowledge of ]\Ir. Burke might be considered almost as an Encyclopaedia ; every man who approached him received instruction from his stores." " Learning," writes a contemporary of a difterent stamp, but who nevertheless never voted with him except during the period of the coalition Ministry, " waited upon him like a hand-maid, presenting to his choice all that antiquity had culled or invented ; he often seemed to be oppressed under the load and variety of his intellectual treasures. Every power of oratory was wielded by him in turn ; for he could be during the same evening pathetic and humourous, acri- monious and conciliating ; now giving a loose to his indig- nation and severity : and then almost in the same breath calling to his assistance ridicule, wit, and mockery." " As an orator," adds another adversary on the question of revo- lutionary politics, " notwithstanding some defects, he stands almost unrivalled. No man was better calculated to arouse the dcrmant passions, to call forth the glowing affections of the human heart, and to 'harrow up' the inmost recesses of the soul. Yenality and meanness stood appalled in his presence ; he who was dead to the feelings of his own eon- Bcience was still alive to his animated reproaches ; and 486 LIFE OF BIJEKE. 1797. corruption for a while became alarmed at the terrors of his countenance. Had he died during the meridian of his fame and character he could scarcely have been considered second to any man either of ancient or modern times." The meri- dian of his faiue and cltaracter means, in this writer's estimate, before he assailed the French Kevolution, and persons of similar sentiments speak the same language ; but the rest of tlie world who think differently and more justly, deem his exertions upon that subject the climax of his reputation and powers. Wordsworth (Moore's Memoirs, vol. iii.) speaking of Fox, Canning, and other eminent public men, remarked how little they knew, or could study of poetry — " Mr. Burke alone was an exception to this description of public men ; by far the greatest man of his age ; not only abounding in knowledge himself, but feeding in various directions, his most able contemporaries ; assisting Adam Smith in his ' Political Economy,' and Eeynolds in his ' Lectures on Painting,' Fox, too, who acknowledged that all he had ever learned from books was nothing to what he had derived from Burke." " His learning is so various and extensive," said the Rev. Thomas Campbell, author of the History of Ireland, "that we might praise it for its range and compass were it not still more praiseworthy for its solidity and depth. His ima- gination is so lively and so creative that he may justly be called the child of fancy ; and therefore his enemies, for even he is not without them, would persuade vis that his fancy overbears his judgment. AVhereas this fine frenzy is, as it ought to be, only a secondary ingredient in the high com- position of a man who not only reflects honour on his native country, but elevates the dignity of human nature. In his most eccentric flights, in his most seemingly wild excursions, in the most boisterous tempest of his passion, there is always a guardian angel which rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm. His grand characteristic is genius, and ruling faculty is jvidgment, though certainly not of that cold kind which the law would call prudence ; but his reason is enlight- ened by intuition, and whilst he persuades as an orator, he instructs as a philosopher. A nobleman of the highest station and abilities in England, though of an opposite party in politics,wheu he heard the petty minions of the day decry 1797. ESTIMATES or hI3 CnARACTEE, 487 his powers, stopped them short, and said, ' Come, come, hold your tongue ; the next age could not know that there waa oratory in this, if Edmund Burke had not printed his speeches.' And Dr. Johnson, a niggard in panegyric to others, speaking of that parity of talents which is generall}'' distributed to the sons of men, has been heard to say, that during his acquaintance with life he knew but two men who had risen considerably aboA'e the common standard ; the one was Lord Chatham, the other was Edmund Burke." " His eloquence," said Mr. Wilberforce on another occa- sion — and it was rarely their lot to agree on political mat- ters — " had always attracted, his imagination continually charmed, his reasonings often convinced him. Of his head and of his heart, of his abilities and of his humanity, of his rectitude and of his perseverance, no man could entertain a higher opinion than he did." A critic of considerable repute thus indirectly alludes to the oratory of Mr. Burke, in ana- lysing that of Mr. Grrattan. " It is not the roundness, the ore rotundo of Mr. Pitt ; it is not the simple majesty of Mr. Fox ; it is not the brilliancy of Mr. Sheridan. Occasionally wo caught a tint, a feature of resemblance to Mr. Burke, but he has not that commanding figure and manner, that volume of voice, that superabundant richness and fertility of fancy, that vast grasp and range of mind which Mr. Burke possessed beyond all other created beings." Grrattan himself writes to Ireland, Decembers, 1/69 — " Burke is unques- tionably the first orator among the Commons of England ; boundless in knowledge, instantaneous in his apprehensions, and abundant in his language. He speaks with profound attention and acknowledged superiority, notwithstanding the want of energy, the want of grace, and the want of ele- gance in his manner." To these might be added dozens of similar eulogies of his character and powers from inferior men. Language indeed has been exhausted in characterizing them ; and the term, "a vast storehouse of knowledge," "an illustrious man," "a wonderful man," "an unequalled man;" "a mighty man," "an all-knowing mind," "a boundless mind," "an exhaustless mind," "the most consummate orator of the age," "the greatest orator and wisest statesman of modern times," occur to the reader of nearly every work, untainted by party spirit, in which be is mentioned. Lord John iius« 488 LIFE OF BURKE. 1797 se'l liowever does not seem disposed to allow him a virtue which on several public occasions he claimed. Speaking oi tlio conviction of their own merits entertained by Horace, Ovid, Dante, Milton, Ariosto, and others, he says (in Memo- rials of Eox) "they knew tlieir own powers, and were too honest to affect ignorance of them. But when Mr. Burke who must have been conscious that his eloquence was stamped with genius, and fraught with the treasures of a rich imagi- nation, represents himself as notliing more than a,n indus- trious plodding Member of Parliament, I cannot fail to perceive that he is mocking his hearers, and that he pretends to a humility he does not feel." Among the noticesof hischaractershouldnotbe omittedthat which proceeds from the most accurate and intimate source. Dr. F. Laurence, after mentioning his death some time in the night of July 8, 1797, sayS' — "His end was suited to the simple greatness of mind which he displayed through life, every way unaftected, without levity, without ostentation, full of natural grace and dignity; he appeared neither to wish nor to dread, but patiently and placidly to await the hour of his dit>solu- tion. He had been listening to some Essays of Addison's, in which he ever took delight ; he had recommended him- self, in many affectionate messages, to the remembrance of those absent friends whom he had never ceased to love ; he liad convei'sed some time with his accustomed force of thought and expression on the awful situation of his coun- try, for the welfare of which his heart was interested to the very last beat ; he had given with steady composure some private directions, in contemplation of his approaching death ; when, as his attendants were conveying him to his bed, he sunk down, and, after a short struggle, passed quietly, and without a groan to eternal rest, in that mercy which he had just declared he had long sought with un- feigned humiliation, and to which he looked with a trenibling hope 1 " Of his talents and acquireinents in general, it is unne- cessary to speak. They Mere long the glory of his country, and the admiration of Europe ; they might have been (had it so consisted with the inscrutable counsels of divine Pro- vidence !) the salvation of both. If not the most accom- plished orator, yet the most eloquent man of his age ; per- haps second to none in any age ; he had still more wisdom 1797. ESTIMATES OP ills CnAHACTEE. 4S9 than eloquence. He diligently collected it from the wise of all times ; but wLat he had so obtained he enriched from the vast ti-easury of his own observation ; and his intellect, active, vigorous, comprehensive, trained in the discipline of true philosophy to whatever subject he applied it, penetrated at once through the surface into the essential forms of things. "With a fancy singularly vivid, he least of all men, in his time, indulged in splendid theories. With more ample materials of every kind than any of his contemporaries, he was the least in his own skill to innovate. A statesman of the most enlarged views — in all his policy he was strictly practical ; and in his practice he always regarded, with holy reverence, the institutions and manners derived from our ancestors. It seemed as if he had been endowed with such transcendant powers, and informed with such extensive knowledge, only to bear the more striking testimony, in these days of rash presumption, how much the greatest mind is singly inferior to the accumulated efforts of innumerable minds in the long flow of centuries. His private conver- sation had the same tincture with his public eloquence. He sometimes adorned and dignified it with philosophy, but he never lost the charm of natural ease. There was no subject so trivial which he did not transiently illuminate with the brilliancy of his imagination. In writing, in speaking, in the senate, or round the table, it was easy to trace the ope- rations of the same genius. " To the Protestant religion, as by law established, he was attached from sincere conviction ; nor was his a barren belief, without influence on his moral conduct. He was rigid in the system of duties by which he regulated his own ac- tions ; liberal in construing those of other men ; warm, but placable ; resenting more the offences committed against those who were dear to him, than against himself ; vehement and indignant only where he thought public justice insulted ; compassionate to private distress ; lenient to suffering guilt. As a friend, he was, perhaps, too partial to those he es- teemed ; over-rating every little merit, overlooking all their defects ; indefatigable in serving them ; stiniining in their favour whatever influence he possessed ; and for their sakes more than his own, regretting that during so long a political life he had so seldom bore any share in power, which he considered only as an instrument of more diffusive good. 490 lifj: of btjrke. 1797. In his domestic relations be was worthy, and more than wortliy he could not be, of the eminent felicity which for many years be enjoyed ; a husband of exemplary tendernesa and fidelity ; a father fond to excess ; the most aifectionate of brothers ; the kindest master ; and, on his part, he has often been heard to declare, that in the most anxious mo- ments of his public life, every care vanished when he entered his own roof. One, who lono; and intimately knew him, to divert his own sorrow, has paid this very inadequate tribute to his memory. Nothing which relates to such a man can be uninteresting or uniustructive to the public, to whom he truly belonged. Few indeed whom the divine goodness has largely gifted, are capable of profiting by the imitation of his genius and learning ; but all mankind may grow better by the study of his virtues." Mucli of this praise came from those who knew him not merely in the bustle of political life, but in moments when the statesman was sunk in the social acquaintance. This is the more valuable species of testimony, as it sometimes hap- pens that a nearer view of public men diminishes much of that admiration or wonder we feel at a distance. With him familiarity appears to have increased it. His more private friends, who happened to be little or not at all con- nected with public aflairs, and who had the best possible opportunities of probing and exploring the man, loved him the best and prized him the most. The same feeling existed among his relatives. No man, it has been said, is a hero to his valet-de-chambre ; and from the same feeling of familiarity few men perhaps however great in the estimation of the world, carry the same impressions of greatness into the bosoms of their own families. Tet even there, wh*re most unveiled and unreserved, he had the fortune to secure both profound attachment and respect ; and the following anec- dote proves that he contrived to belie the proverb just quoted. When some one was congratulating his old servant Webster on the honour of serving so good a master and so great a man — " Yes, Sir," said the faithful attendant, " he is a great man ; he knows and does every thing but what is mean, or little." Mr. Windham used to say that this was one of the finest panegyrics upon him which could be uttered. Richard his brother, and William Burke, his companiona from youth, the partakers of his fortunes, the participators 1797. ESTIMATES OF HIS CHAEACTEE. 491 in many of Lis studies, who knew if any men could know, the value of his mind and the labours bestoAved upon its culture, looked up to him with a feeling of veneration. Sentiments of this kind fr( quently appear in the letters of both. At an early period of his public life Richard, writing to Shackleton as we have seen in a previous page (i05) passes a high eulo- gium on him on public grounds. William Burke, writing about the same time, speaks the same language. Though no relation of Edmund, this gentleman was so much attached to him from boyhood, and so proud of the connexion, that, in the language of a friend of the family, " he would have knocked any man down who had dared to dispute the relationship." The respectful admiration of his son equalled that of his brother and friend. During the last visit to Ireland in 1786, when Mr. Shackleton, after listening attentively to some ingenious and profound observations of the father, turned aside soon afterwards with the son and remarked in conver- sation, " He is the greatest man of the age :" " He is," re- plied the son, with filial enthusiasm, and a very near approximation to the truth, " the greatest man of any age." This estimate is not therefore, as many of the preceding tes- timonies imply, merely that of filial admiration. A greater and more experienced name indulges in nearly the same language, repeating what most writers say when touch- ing upon the topics which he had occasion to handle. Sif James Mackintosh writes — " Burke was one of the firsi, thinkers as well as one of the greatest orators of his time. He is without parallel in any age, excepting perhaps Lord Bacon and Cicero ; and his works contain an ampler store of political and moral wisdom than can be found in any other writer whatever." " No one can doubt," says Lord Brougham, " that en- lightened men in all ages will hang over the works of Mr. Burke. He was a writer of the first class, and excelled in almost every species of prose composition. The extraordinary depth of his detached views, the penetrating sagacity which he occasionally applies to men and their motives, and the curious felicity of expression with which he unfolds principles and traces resemblances and relations, are separately the gift of few, and in their union probably without any example." Kothing perhaps more strongly exhibits the homage paid to great talents united to moral qualities than the intiuence 492 LIFE OF BURKE 1797. lie acquired over tlie most eminent men witli whom politi- cal connexion brought him into contact. The preceding pages furnish ample evidence of this power ; such for instance as the Marqais of Eockingham, a man of sound talents unquestionably, the Duke of Richmond, Admiral Keppel, Sir George iSavile, Mr. Dowdeswell, and all the ablest of that party ; the Duke of Portland, Mr. Fox, Mr. Windham, all his private friends without exception; the most distinguished of the Whig party, several of the coalition Ministry;— in some degree over Mr. Pitt and his colleagues in 1792, at least as much as the habitual pride, and jealousy of all political talents entertained by the minister would permit ; numberless others who might be mentioned ; and on nearly all the great questions he embraced, eventually over the whole nation. If it require a pretty strong understanding to gain leading influence over even the ignorant and the weak, what must that be which subjects to its dominion the enlightened and the powerful, and in talents not merely the great but the vast ? CHAPTER XVII. His eloquence — His writings — His leading' principles as a Statesman — IMr. Burke, Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Fox. Critics of the classical ages accustomed frequently to witness the powerful influences of good public speaking in popular assemblies, have endeavoured to impress upon us a high idea of the requisites of a great orator. His moral character should be pure, his knowledge imiversal, with a genius fitted to animate and adorn that knowledge ; his language flowing, his delivery impressive, his powers of rea- soning and imagination strong, added to such perfect posses- sion of himself as to be in readiness to combine these qualities, or to draw upon each separately according to the_ exigencies of the moment. These constitute a rare combination such as our imperfect humanity can scarcely exhibit ; but beyond all question no one in the 'history of Euglish oratory approaches so near to this character as Burke. With some truth it has been said that his powers if shared out, would have made 1797. ORATOES AND DEBATEES. 493 half a dozen of good orators. And we must regard bim at least as a remarkable instance of one who approached the ancient standard of perfection. Others of the great political names of our country possess only two or three of the qualities enumerated. Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox for instance, equalled him in reasoning, in judgment on common affairs, and in fluency. Mr. Sheridan in coolness, promptitude, and wit. Lord Chatham had the superiority of a bold and overpower- ing delivery. Lord Bolingbroke, also perhaps in some degree, had the same advantage though we have little now on which to found an opinion. And Charles Townshend in addition to many popular requisites, possessed a peculiar parliamentary skill in seizing the favourable moment to push a subject, in the adaptation of his powers to the point at issue aud to the temper of the House at the moment whatever temper that might be ; but none possessed the combination peculiar to Biu-ke. Neither had any of these eminent persons pretensions to his originality of thought, force of language, felicitous phraseology, or that inexhaustible fertility upon every topic which constitutes the soul of eloquence, and which when his opponents had little else to find fault with they urged against him as a defect. He would seem therefore to have been cut out for the character in which he figured, partly by large natural gifts, and partly by having grounded and reared himself upon the model which the Augustan age of literature recommends. And this must have been done at an early period of life ; led to it probably not so much by sanguine hope of ever becoming the character which he admired, as by the expected duties of the profession he at first contem- plated, or by that impulse which, without knowing precisely whither it tends, so often impels and guides us in th^ pursuits of life. A distinction may be made and perhaps hold good, between a great orator and a debater. It has been said, that in the latter respect Mr. Fox acquired the superioi'ity over all men. No speaker certainly was ever heard with more consideration by those opposed to him, or perhaps with so much partiality by those whom he led in the House of Commons, arising as well from imquestioned talents as strong attachment to his person, which few other political leaders have had the good fortune to secure, or to secure in the same degree. It will nevertheless be difficult to point out where Burke's 491 LIFE OF BUEKE. 1797. presumed inferiority lay. In information, in wisdom upon all great occasions, and in variety of talents to secure them a favourable reception from his hearers, he had no equal ; in readiness and vigour no superior ; and he was accused of being frequent and fertile to a fault. After all it may be doubted wliether this great reputed dexterity in debate, be any just criterion of the highest order of intellect, or whether the style which commonly accom- panies it is of the highest style of oratory— that style which is not merely effective in the British Senate, but com- mands the admiration of all men of all countries as the per- fection of the art. Judged by this standard Mr. Fox comes much short of Burke. A good debater, although a character almost wholly English, there being scarcely any such as we understand it among the ancients, and little resembling him in the rest of Europe at the present day, is more of a me- chanic perhaps than he is willing to acknowledge. His range is commonly narrowed, his aim bounded by local or temporary circumstances, which though calculated to meet some minor interest or emergency, often become obstacles to wide expansion of mind. He may be said to move within the narrowest circle, to work in a species of political tread- mill. His art has been attained as in the cases of Eox, Pitt and others — and it is but fair to calculate may be again acquired — at an age when other and much higher faculties remain still unfolded. A good debater therefore may be in great measure made. The power of a great and commanding orator in the highest acceptation of the term must, like that of the poet, be chiefly born with him.* The oratorical style of Burke appears not only of a high order, but it possesses the first characteristic of genius — originality. We have nothing that is very similar, and little * Since tlie first publication of this work the opinion of a great g-enius seems to corroborate that of the present writer. Lord Byron has observed, that no parliamentary speaker of our own day g'ave him the idea of a great orator. Grattan, lie said, was near to it. Fox he only regarded as a debater, and between such a character and a great orator there is no more resemblance, he adds, than between an improvisatore, or a versifier, and a great poet. Lord Chathum and Burke Were, in his opinion, the only English orators 'wlioupproaehed perfection.— If the contest for superiority lies between these two great men, it will b« fflo difficult matter to decide to whom the preference will b* given. 1797. HIS STYLE OF ELOQUENCE. 495 perhaps of equal character in our language, thougli of its nature and power, vigour and variety, novelty of thought and that intellectual brilliancy which flashes atliwart every subject and transmutes all it meets with into auxiliaries to the main pui'pose, an inadequate idea can be conveyed by description, and no specimen can do it justice. When Johnson was asked whether Burke resembled Tullius Cicero ? " No, Sir," was the reply, " be resembles Edmund Burke." Taken as a whole however, his manner partakes of the grandeur of the eloquent Jloman, with more of richness, of variety of knowledge, of masculine energy, and altogether displays greater reach of mind ; yet with less of chastity, of elaborate elegance, or of that methodical arrangement we have perhaps no right to expect in speeches which unlike those of the great ancient, were not polished into perfection before they were spoken. In detached passages he sometimes assumes an air of severity, and of that simpler dignity which belongs to Demosthenes, to whom, as an orator, he himself gave the preference.* His eloquence will be found less remarkable for the pre- dominance of any one faculty of mind, than for that distin- guishing feature, a combination of them all. This peculiarity has so much confused the judgment of many, and not mean critics, as to give rise to contradictory opinions. Some represent him as addressing the passions and imagination more than the understanding ; others of overwhelming his subject by pom'ing in argument more than enough. Some will have it that he deals in that bold, flowing, loose, yet * A writer, already quoted, says of liim — " Equal to tliat g-reat nv.in (Cicero) in dialectic, in imag'ery, in ccciisiiniul splendour, and in jreuera; information; — excelling' him in political wisdom, and the application o~ history and philosophy to politics he yields to liim in pathos, in g-race, ir tetste, and even in that which was not the forte of Cicero, discretion. * * • • * What particularly distinguishes him from the Greek and Roman orators, and from his contemporary rivals, were the countless lessons oi civil and moral wisdom by which he diguitied his compositions, and both enforced and illustrated his arguments ; his sudden transitions from the grand to the gay, fi-om sublimity to pleasantry, from the refined and recondite to the ordinary and obvious ; and his frequent admixture oi coarse and low expressions even in his most splendid passages. The elfec of those was sometimes great, but they deformed and disgusted. ' The Venus of Phidias,' Wilkes used to say, * was so lovely, that the Atheniani called her the Venus of Roses. Lovely, too, speaking g'enerally, is tl t Venus of Burk« ; but she sometimes is the Venus of whisky,' " 496 LIFE or BTJEK5, 17D7. powerful style whicli they term licentious ; others s.'iy he is often abrupt and severe. Some consider he is too fond of wit, ornament, and lighter matter ; others see him too metaphysical and refined, and too much above the intellec- tual level of the assembly he addressed, though that assem- bly was the House of Commons. Such seems to have been in some measure the opinion of Goldsmith, who describes him as being doomed, in allusion to the fatigue and privations of debate, — " To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor." Some again have honestly confessed, that after much meditation they can make nothing at all of him — that his qualities contradict each other, and that his powers and his mode of wielding them are equally indescribable. All these opinions cannot be true. The confusion perhaps arises from each viewing him in the light which strikes most forcibly at the moment ; from not attending so much to the conjoined eflect of the whole of his argument as to single parts, each of which is so striking in itself as to appear a principal in the cause in which it is embodied only as an auxiliary. Examine any single oration he has published. Take that on American Taxation for instance, the first though perhaps not the best that he gave the world ; and the pervading feeling in the mind of the reader after perusal, is a conviction of sound straight-forward sense, enlargement of mind, ingenious yet solid and honest views, moderation of tone, and acute discriminating wisdom in the speaker. Let him omit if he wall, the graphic sketches of character should these be deemed extraneous or meretricious, and there is little to ofliend even fastidious taste. We fi.nd nothing which can be considered flowery — anaccusation sometimes laid to hischarge by confusion of language — for there is little approach to such quality in any of his speeches or writings ; nothing merely amusing or ornamental; nothing which a plain understanding may not comprehend ; nothing which merely solicits the imagination for a figure without that figure strikes hard and home in some form or other upon the argument. But there is a total of vigour and effect on the question at issue, as on any other that much engaged his attention, which no other modern orator imparts, and which the records of Parliament teach us 710 other has yet imparted. The great aim as to manner in this as in aU his productions is strength — to make a deep if not indelible impression. If you do not agree with, he 1797. STYLE OF HIS ELOQUENCE. 497 is determine/l you shall not -forget him ; so that his expres- sions often elmg tenaciously to memory. To this he occasionally sacrifices the minor considerations of elegance or beauty of phrase. He approaches a contest not with two or three, but with that variety of qualities which may be compared to an armory of weapons ; and the skill with which they were used and the diflBculty experienced b}^ able oppo- nents in meeting him fully on every point of attack, made liim at all times a formidable assailant in Parliament — a kind of Briareus among political disputants. To arrive at this result his mind possessed a peculiarly discursive faculty. Lil^e a bird of prey upon the wing, it was ever on the watch for something on which to levy tribute. Tew things therefore whether great or little, whether of nature or of art, whether belonging to earth or to a higher region, escape him. He darts upon them without materially impeding his course, or has the rarer art in most of his deviations, to carry his subject along with him. He seldom stops to select. He grasps at much which a severer judgment would reject ; but whatever is seized he has the art beyond any other man of putting to use ; and his pro- gress often reminds us of a torrent, sweeping rock and tree and earth along with it, yet acquiring additional power even from the heterogeneous nature of its accumulations. In these generally speaking, there is little of common-place ; or wiien a common idea is used, it is dressed in so novel a garb that we sometimes do not immediately recognize an old acquaintance. His conceptions without violent straining, are almost always original. We meet with things in him which are to be found in no other quarter, which are wliolly unexpected in themselves, and which perhaps scarcely any one ever before imagined, or at least thought of adapting to such purposes as he had in view. He has drilled more extra- ordinary and bold avixiliaries to the art of persuasion than any other orator ancient or modern ; and while their novel office creates surprise, we are at some loss to discover how they got into tlieir new situations or by what dexterity they are made to play so conspicuous a part. At times he seems on the verge of extravagance ; not indeed that species of it which excites laughter or contempt but rather astonishment. Along this dangerous precipice, dangerous in many respects to an ambitious orator or writer, 2 K ids LIFE OF BURKE. 1797, he treads in perfect security. Other and even eminent men, in attempting to pursue his track, have not been always able to preserve a secure footing, chiefly because they mistake the severe boldness of his occasionally figurative for a flowery manner, than which no two things can be more opposite. The former appears to be the offspring of stronger, the latter in general, of looser and weaker intellectual powers. Nothing is more peculiar to his impassioned style than this difficulty of imitation. To be convinced that such is the case, let any one take a page or two of our English classics, Addison or John- son for instance, with the design of hitting off their chief characteristics, and he may probably make the resemblance respectable. Let him attempt the manner of Burke, and he will almost certainly fail ; he will either overdo or underdo it. Even Sheridan with all his genius, who had his eye upon this great model in the early part of his career and in several speeches on the impeachment, soon found out that the en- deavour was nearly hopeless and therefore gave it up.* It * After the first edition of this work was published, Moore's Life of Sheridan appeared, and incidentally corroborates or follows nearly every one of the views which the present writer has taken of Burke iu the points in which he differed from, or excelled, his contemporaries. — Thus it is said — " His (Sheridan's) attempts, indeed, at the florid, or fig-urative style, whether in his speeches or his writings, were seldom very successful. That luxuriance of fancy which in Burke was natural and indigenous, was in him rather a forced and exotic growth, it is a remarkable proof of tiie difference between them, that while, in the memorandum of speeches left behind by Burke, we find that the points of argument or business were those which he prepared, trusting to the ever-ready wardrobe of his fancy for their adornment, — in Mr. Sheridan's notes it is chiefly the decorative passages that are worked up beforehand to their full polish ; v/hile on the resources of his good sense, ingenuity, and temper, he seems to have relied for the management of his reasonings and facts. Hence naturally it arises, that the images of Burke being called up on the instant, like spirits, to perform the bidding of his argument, minister to it throughout with an almost co-ordinate agency ; while the ticjurative fancies of Sheridan, already prepared for the occasion, and brought forth to adorn, not assist the business of the discourse, resemble rather those sprites which the magicians used to keep enclosed in phials, to be produced for a momentary enchantment, and then shut up again. " In truth, the similes and illustrations of Burke form such an intimate, and often essential part of his reasoning, that if the whole strength of the Samson does not lie in those luxuriant locks, it would at least be con- siderably diminished by their loss, whereas, in the speech of Mr. Sheridan (on the Begum charge) there is hardly one of the rhetorical ornameuts I 1797. STYLE OF HIS ELOQITEirCB. 429 is quite true as Burke himself more tlian once experienced, that even his excellencies proved, or were represented to be, defects, and that the very number of his talents served as a handle to impair the effect he expected to produce. There is a large class of auditors to be found in the House of Commons as elsewhere, who think that an argument to be good must be dull, that wit in the course of it is misapplied, and that a flash of genius or flight of imagination becomes a species of death to the process of reasoning — an idea to which even Mr. Pitt, with characteristic dexterity was fond of giving coun- tenance, when he had nothing better at hand to offer to the forcible, keen, and various powers of a gifted adversary. We may admit that while performing the frequent duty of an Opposition leader — the necessity of making an eloquent speech out of little or nothing — he sometimes on lighter that might not be detached without in any degree injuring the force of the general statement. " Another consequence of this difference between them is observable in their respective modes of transition from what may be called business of a speech to its more generalized and rhetorical parts. When Sheridan rises his elevation is not sufficiently prepared ; he starts abruptly and at once from the level of his statement, and sinks down into it again with the same suddenness. But Burke, whose imagination never allows even business to subside into mere prose, sustains a pitch throughout which accustoms the mind to wonder, and while it prepares us to accompany him in his boldest flights, makes us, even when he walks, still feel that he has wings : — ' Meme quatul roiseau marclie,on sent qtCil a desailes, " It is surely a most unjust disparai^-ement of the eloquence of Burke, to apply to it any time of his life, the epithet ' flowery' — a designation only applicable to that ordinary ambition of style, whose chief display by necessity consists ofornament without thought, and pomp without subsUince. A succession of images, clothed in simple transparent language, even when, as in Burke, they ' crowd upon the aching sense' too dazzlingly, should never be confounded with that mere verbp.l opulence of style, which mistakes the glare of words for the glitter of ideas, and like the Helen of the sculptor Lysippus, makes finery supply the place of beauty." More recently, it would appear from Lord John Russell's " Memorials of Fox" that an idea had latterly gained ground among the Whig party of Burke having endeavoured to imitate Sheridan. For this opinion we find no good foundation. There is nothing in Burke to warrant it — nothing as we Bee in Sheridan's biographer to countenance it— nothing in their habits, tastes, and capacities, and latterly in their kno\vii dislikes, to render such an event at all probable. Had there been any obvious approach to it during the Impeachment, the assailants of Burke who spared hiui m nothing, would have made ample use of the fact to annoy him. 500 LIFE OF BFRKE. 179y. matters at least, delighted to play with his subject ; to wanton m the luxuriance of fancy, wit, and sarcasm ; to dallv ana amuse himself as well as others on the dull road it was so often necessary to travel by giving a species of jubilee to the animal spirits. But his power over the main question was as visible on these as on more serious occasions ; often was it termed the " wantonness of eloquence," and arose in fact from the consciousness of mental power. He reminds us of a horse- soldier in an engagement, exercising preliminary sabre-flou- rishes over the head of an enemy on foot previous to putting him to death. It would be hazardous to pronounce these or any other of his deviations misplaced, for some of the most skilful passages in oratory are those w^hich occasionally glance from the immediate point to fix our attention on what is to follow. Homer is said to nod, and Burke may occasion- ally trifle, but both are probably the eftects of design. Pew subjects admit of continued excitement of mind for a length of time : and few audiences relish for three or four hours to- gether what is called a continued chain of reasoning. Eests are as useful and necessary in a long speech as in a long journey, and their judicious intermixture, as they occasion the least fatigue, are likely to impart the greater pleasure. " To have attained a relish for his (Mr. Burke's) charms," says Dr. Parr, " is greatly to have advanced in literature." Certain peculiarities in his eloquence, as vividness of ima- gination, vehemence, force of invective, and that almost morbid sensitiveness of feeling which is sometimes of use to an orator to make his hearers feel, belong as much perhaps to his country as to the individual. Several of the more distinguished speakers of Ireland exhibit tliese peculiarities in the few specimens still preserved of their more animated contentions. English Parliamentary oratory so far as it is preserved, has little of this character. But specimens of older date are few and imperfect, so that little exists previous to the commencement of the late reign which gives a tolerable idea of the speeches, or style of speaking, of the greater names in our political annals. Even tlie supposed early eftusions of Lord Chatham are known to derive their chief merit from the pen of Dr. Johnson, who nrote his and the other speeches given to us as parliamentary debates, sometimes from meagre hints, or from merely Imcwing which side of the argument tlie speakers had taken. 1797. STYLE OF HIS ELOQUENCE. 501 Statesmen then contended as if their eloquence was born tc die with the debate of the day ; to become extinguished and forgotten even on the spot which gave it birtli ; leaving to posterity no memorial of their noblest stand against an unconstitutional measure or Minister, but a record of tlie rejection of one, or dismissal from office of the other. It is also true what Burke somewhere observes, that debates a century ago were comparative parish-vestry discussions to what they afterwards became. This change according to the general belief of contemporaries, was in a considerable degree owing to himself. He is considered, by the enlarged views, the detailed expositions of policy, the intermixture of per- manent truths bearing upon temporary facts, and the general lustre and air of wisdom which he was among the first to introduce at large into Parliamentaiy discxission, greatly to liave exalted the character of Parliament itself; and by the display of his own characteristics, to have excited the emula- tion of others. No comparison at least can be drawn between the tone and value of Parliamentary eloquence previous to his appearance there, and since. He struggled likewise long and zealously ere the next great step in the improvement of parliamentary eloquence was obtained, namely, the publica- tion of the debates. This event gave it at once excellence, permanence, and usefulness. As an accuser, his power was terrific. Once under the influence of excited feelings, and possessed of a vocabulary unequalled for force and comprehensiveness, he exhausts the whole compass of the English language in fierceness of in- vective and. bitterness of censure. Even Junius, with all the advantages of indiscriminate personality, private scandal, and the mask under which he fought, which last left him free in the use of terms of censure, has not exceeded liim in severity, while he falls infinitely short in reach of thought, connnand of language, energy of expression, and variety of reproach. Junius is more pungent in accusation, Burke more power- ful; Junius imparts the idea of keenness, Burke that of overpowering force ; Junius of possessing powers to a certain degree circumscribed, Burke of a magnitude nearly bound- less ; Junius assaults his victim with a razor, Burke with :i sledge-hammer ; and repeats his blows so often and in so many difterent modes, that few can again recognize the carcase he has once taken it in hand to mangle. 502 LIFE OF BUEKE. 179J Mucli of this wrathful spirit arose from what he thought tyranny or crime, where great public offences or supposed culprits were in question, and when he conceived it neces- sary to summon up every faculty he possessed, not merely to overpower but to destroy them. In reply to the attack of the Duke of Bedford, though he curbs much of his natural vehemence from the provocation being personal, there is great vigour, with something of a lofty contempt of his op- ponent. But no record of the exertions of one man in vehemence of censure or variety of reproach, in labour or in talents, eqixal those against the French Eevolution and Mr. Hastings. In the latter case his speeches were heard with an awe approaching to terror ; and though their severity has been censured, the best apologies, which perhaps can now be offered, were volunteered at the moment by two political adversaries, Mr. Pitt and Mr. Wilberforce.* Yet it must be remembered that he frequently denied having used the more offensive expressions and phrases put into his mouth by the idle or designing rumours of the day. It may like- wise be believed that acerbity was sharpened by the con- viction of all his vast labours on this subject being in vain. He early felt that the countenance of the Court, the luke- warmness of Ministry, the numbers and influence of men whom Hastings had enriched or favoured, and the quibbles or technicalities of the law of evidence, would render con- viction even of the accused agents, such as Sir Elijah Impey, nearly impossible. In addition to former passages stating this belief, the following appears in a pi'ivate letter to Shackleton, inviting him to come to him after a busy day, May 9th, 1788 : * The latter, in an animated address, said, he did not wonder at the mind of Mr. Burke being warmed, and his feelings excited, by the nature of the supposed crimes of the accused ; for he was aware of the trans- actions in India before almost any one else ; he had been brooding over them for years ; and it was natural for him to see their enormity in a magnified point of view. Mr. Pitt (9th May, 1787,) " admitted that he was once of opinion that the language of those who chiefly promoted the present proceeding was too full of acerbity, and much too passionate and exaggerated ; but when he found what the nature of the crimes was, and how strong the presumption that the allegations were true, he confessed that he could not expect that gentlemen, when reciting what they thought actions of treachery, actions of violence and oppression, and demanding an investigation into those actions, should speak a language different from that which would naturally arise from the contemplation of such actions." i 797. AS AK 02AT0E. 503 — " We have au Indian law fox to hunt, but he will earth in strong ministerial and professional party ground, and we shall not be able to dig him out." In the moi"e mechanical part of oratory — delivery, hia manner was less graceful than powerful, his enunciation dis- tinct and unchecked by any embarrassment, his periods flowing and harmonious, his language always forcible, some- times choice, sometimes when strongly excited acrimonious or sarcastic ; his epithets numerous, occasionally coarse ; and to the last he retained much of the Irish accent, which in general opinion marred the power of his eloquence. At times his gesticulation was violent, his tone harsh, and an habitual, undulating motion of the head, alluded to in the lines quoted from Simkin's Letters, had the appearance of indicating something of a self-confident or intractable spirit. He seemed disposed, to casual observers, to wish to command fully as much as to persuade the auditors of the opposite benches, and the effect proved occasionally disadvantageous to his views. Lord Chatham has been called a fci'eat actor, and therefore excelled him in delivery. The writer of the notice of him already quoted (p. 170), thus says of his mind and manner in 1777 : — -" This sketch we present to our readers as a very imperfect attempt to delineate the uncommon parliamentary abilities of this great political genius. We cannot, however, dismiss this side of the picture without o'bserving that his abilities are accom- panied with a very extraordinary instance of an union of talents scarcely compatible ; for it is difficult to decide whether he speaks or writes better, or whether he deliberates with greater judgment, or plans and directs with greater aptitude, sagacity, or foresight. On the other hand, Mr. Burke is excursive, injudicious, and pedantic. His wit sometimes degenerates into buffoonery and ill-nature ; his oratory into bombast and fustian. His voice is not, at the best, one of the most harmonious ; he frequently neglects to manage it, and in the warmth of debate often becomes so hoarse, as to render his accents dissonant and nearly unin- telligible. He has neither a very expressive nor animated countenance, nor does he seem, any more than Phil. Stan- hope, to have courted the graces with any degree of success in point of attitude, or the use he uiakes of his hands, head, feet, and arms. On the whole, in spite of his fliglits through 7he regions of imagery, his frequent deviations, his dwelling 504 LIFE OF i3UEKE. 1797, upon trifles, \vith several otlier defects thici sown through his harangues, he is indubitably by much the most powerfal and best informed speaker on either side of the House of Commons." His speeches, however instructive or full of ingenious matter, were sometimes like those of Fox, too long ; both sinning from that fulness of mind, which having once begun to disburden itself, knew not when to leave oif. Three hours from each being no unusual effort, left little for any one else on the same side to say. Some discontent was thence occa- sionally engendered among several of the older, as well as a few of the younger and more aspiring members, at being thus thrown into the shade ; yet Burke and Fox made it their boast to bring forward rising talent. One of the former class, Mr. Anstruther, is said to have complained, after the disunion of 1791, of Mr. Burke being more of a monopolist in that way than was agreeable, though he ad- mitted him to be " undoubtedly the best informed man in either house of Parliament, the most eloquent man, and i'requently the wittiest man." The three great orators of the age sinned in this way nearly alike. A modern writer of merit says, " Both orators (Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt) were verbose, the former by his repetitions, the latter by his am- plifications." To this may be added, that Mr. Burke's fault was fulness — a profusion of illustrative matter — mostly ori- ginal, commonly powerful, always various — but even variety will not at all times compensate for length. Such a defect arising from an affluent mind we are disposed to think more venial than that of either of his contemporaries in repeti- tions or amplijications. There are moments indeed when the best speakers, especially when out of power, cannot obtain an attentive hearing from hungry and impatient auditors. A debater must often wait for the mollissima tempora fandi ; and the great subject of this sketch in this respect, him- self particularly commends Charles Townshend's skill as " hitting the house between wind and water." From occasional disinclination in Mr. Pitt's friends to hear Burke after that gentleman became first minister, and of the same feeling on his own side after the disunion with Fox, party spirit has exaggerated this temporary distaste into a story that he was rarely heard with pleasure. Even a witticism has been coined for the purpose — that he was known as the '■'Dinner-bell." Such representations overshoot their mark, 1797. AS AN ORATOR. 506 anil shew simply a hostile or depreciatory spirit. "Were the account true we shoiald be compelled to look upon the annals of the proceedings of the House of Commons as little better than fables. For from his first session to his last, from the time the Duke of Grafton in 1760 wished him to join the ]\Iinistry as " the readiest man on all points in the House," to the confession just given of an opponent in 1792, we find there quite a different representation of facts. His speeches likewise we suppose, may still speak for themselves. And if friends and foes, without exception, during that long period admit that they have no equal— that he possessed boundless powers of argument, knowledge, imagination, and wit, what are we to conclude of the taste or judgment of those who tell us they cared not for either, and did not, or would not listen to him ? Are we to take the confession as an estimate of their capacity to judge, or a proof of their fairness ? Should such men ever have been permitted to be members of a House which they served only to lower and to encumber ? The truth is, the term in question is of recent origin, and comes from the remnants of the adherents of Mr. Fox, who have never forgiven, and as long as one of the race survives never will forgive, the insignificance to which the party was reduced by the secession of Burke. But they should not be allowed with impunity to wage eternal war against his fame.* • It would have been unnecessary to notice the phrase here, had it not been transferred to a recent and valuable history, that of Lord Mahon. While just to Burke in other respects, his Lordship has been betrayed, no doubt inadvertently, into giving place as a historical truth to what ori- ginated loosely as an after-dinner piece of wit. In allusion to this subject, an intimate friend recently communicated the following anecdote : — " I was in the habit of dining frequently in Gower Street with the late Mr. Anthony Blake, afterwards Chief Remembrancer and a Privy Councillor in Ireland. On one occasion I met there Lord Wellesley, previous to his being Irish Viceroy, Lord Nugent, and several others. The conversation turned upon Mr. Burke. Lord Nugent, after some remarks in a flippant strain, inquired whether he was not tiresome in his speeches ; in fact, was he not considered the dinner-bell of the House .' Lord Welle.-ley looked at him expressively, then drawing himself up and leaning back in his chair, replied in an emphatic manner as if to convey a rebuke, ' Certainly never by me, my Lord. I always listened to him with the highest sratiticatiou and so I believe did most others who wished to be instructed on what was passing around us.' Afterwards, adverting to the prosecution of Hastings, Lord Wellesley said ' Had the question gone to judgment on the first thre* charges, he must have been convicted. There was no doubt of his culpa* Sility. Law's (Lord Ellenoorough's) management, saved hiru.' " 506 LITE OF BURKE. 1797. A description of the manner, power, and dress of Burke in the House, by the Duke de Levis, is interesting as coming from a foreigner of distinction. The occasion was a debate on the French Revolution : — " The man whom I had the greatest desire to hear was the celebrated Mr. Burke, author of the ' Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful,' and often himself sublime. At length he rose, but in beholding him I could scarcely recover from my surprise. I had so frequently heard his eloquence compared to that of Demosthenes and Cicero, that my ima- gination associating him with those great names had repre- sented him in a noble and imposing garb. I certainly did not expect to find him in the British Parliament dressed in the ancient toga ; nor was I prepared to see him in a tight brown coat, which seemed to impede every movement, and, above all, the little bob-wig, with curls. * * * In the mean time, he moved into the middle of the House, contrary to the usual practice, for the members speak standing and uncovered, not leaving their places. But Mr. Burke with the most natural air imaginable, with seeming humility, and with folded arms, began his speech in so low a tone of voice that I could scarcely hear him. Soon after however be- coming animated by degrees, he described religion attacked, the bonds of subordination broken, civil society threatened to its foundations ; and in order to shew that England could depend only upon herself, he pictured in glowing colours the political state of Europe ; the spirit of ambition and folly wliich pervaded the greater part of her governments; the culpable apathy of some, the w^eakness of all. When in the course of this grand sketch he mentioned Spain, that im- mense monarchy which appeared to have fallen into a total lethargy, ' AVhat can we expect,' said he ' from her ?— mighty indeed, but unwieldy — vast in bulk, but inert in spirit — a whale stranded upon the sea-shore of Europe.' Tlie whole house was silent ; all eyes were upon him, and this silence was interrupted only by the loud cries of Hear ! hear ! a kind of accompaniment which the friends of the speaking Member adopt in order to direct attention to the most brilliant pas- sages of his speech. But these cheerings were superfluous on the present occasion ; every mind was fixed ; the senti- ments he expressed spread themselves with rapidity ; every one shared his emotion, whether he represented the ministers 1797. DESCRIBED BY THE DUKE DE lETIS. 507 of religion proscribed, inhumanly persecuted and banished, imploring the Almighty in a foreign laud to forgive their ungrateful country ; or when he depicted in the most afiect- ing manner the misfortunes of the Eoyal Family and the humiliation of the daughter of the Csesars. Every eye was bathed in tears at the recital of these sad calamities sup- ported with such heroic fortitude. Mr. Burke then, by an easy transition, passed on to the exposition of those absurd attempts of inexperienced men to establish a chimerical liberty ; nor did he spare the petulant vanity of upstarts in their pretended love for equality. The truth of these striking and animated pictures made the whole House pass in an instant from the tenderest emotions of feeling to bursts oi laughter ; never was the electric power of eloquence more imperiously felt ; this extraordinary man seemed to raise and quell the passions of his auditors with as much ease and as rapidly as a skilful musician passes into the various modulations of his harpsichord. I have witnessed many, too many political assemblages and striking scenes where eloquence performed a noble part, but the whole of them appear insipid when compared with this amazing effort."* * Tastes proverbially differ. Having therefore thus heard a foreigner upon the manner of Burke, let us attend to an orator of our own country on the same subject. The anecdote appears in a memorandum to the Life of Dr. E. D. Clarke, the traveller : — " Monday, July 5, 1819. — While we were waiting at Trinity Lodge for the deputation from the S>enate to conduct the Chancellor, 1 had a con- versation with Lord Erskine upon the qualifications of Burke as an orator. Lord Erskine said that his defect was episode. 'A public speaker,' said he, ' should never be episodical — it is a very great mistake. 1 hold it to be a rule respecting public speaking, which ought never to be violated, that the speaker should not introduce into his oratory insular brilliant passages — they always tend to call off the minds of his iiearers, and to make them wander from what ought to be the main business of his speech. If he wish to introduce brilliant passages, they should run along the line of his subject matter, and never quit it. Burke's episodes were highly beauti- ful — ] know nothing wore beautiful, but they were his defects in speaking.* Then he introduced one of his most beautiful episodes, taken from a speech on the American war ; and repeated by heart the whole of that part of the speech in which he introduces the quotation 'Acta I'arentum,' &c. ■ All this,' said he, *is very beautiful, but it ought to be avoided. Now I will give you another specimen from his speeches on the same war in which his oratory \s perfect — where the most common, familiar, and even low technical expressions are made to blend themselves with the hnist passages : and where having fun yossession of the minds of his hearers, he 508 LIFE OF BUBKE. 1797. Some difference of manner maybe observed in his speecbea and writings ; the former having a more rapid, vehement, freedom of style, throwng off shorter and less finished though not less spirited sketches. There is likewise more aim at effect, the sentences shorter and more epigrammatic, and the treatment of the subjects more condensed. A belief never lets them go from him for an instant.' Then he repeated all that speech. " Lord Erskine also told me that Burke's manner was sometimes bad — ' it was like that of an Irish chairman.' ' Once,' said he, ' 1 was so tired of hearing him in a debate upon the India bill, that not liking he should see me leave the House of Commons while he was speaking, I crept along under the benches and got out, and went to the Isle of Wight. After- wards that very speech of his was published, and I found it to be so ex- tremely beautiful that I actually tvore it into pieces by reading it.' " Burke's orations, though certainly not more perfect than any other human productions, his Lordship had three years before at Edinburgh pronounced to be immortal and inimitable ; and in his own oratory had occasionally attempted to imitate their style ; but having like Sheridan, failed in the design, had like him also soon given it up ; besides, he has himself told us, that "he had transcribed with his own hand all the most admirable passages in the writings and speeches of this most extraordinsry man." The remarks on episode (though these were not original, out borrowed from a contemporary critical journal) may, or may not be true. They prove nothing, such things depend upon times, circumstances, and situations, to which general rules do not apply. Some of the finest things to be met with in oratory are in their nature episodical. Whether Burke's episodes be improperly introduced is a question to be decided by taste and consideration of circumstances rather than by an abstract critical dogma. In the speech on American taxation, for instance, the characters drawn of Charles Townshend, George Grenville, and Lord Chatham, may by a few readers be deemed too much in the nature of episode ; yet inde- pendent of beauty, they are not without much of that very test of pro- priety which Lord Erskine expressly specifies, namely, running along the line of his subject. So of deviations in other speeches from the direct line of march of his argument. The observation of his Lordship as to Burke's manner being like that of ' an Irish chairman' is extravagant, and the account ai creeping along under the benches likewise an obvious exaggeration, for the act was not practicable. Tlie whole conversation bears traces of that loose manner to which he was prone, but to which no weight can be attached. Burke, on the floor of the House of Commons was, as has been already said in this work, sometimes unduly positive — sometimes with an air, though only an air, of dictation in his mode of address — but vulgarity was as wholly foreign to his manner, either in public or private, as to his mind.— Of Lord Erskine's own manner Lord Byron sarcastically observed, that " it tvas true he nad never heard him at the bar, but after hearing him in ths House he had no further wish to hear him any where." 1797. ME. fox's idea or a good speech. 509 prevailed for a short time in the early part of his career of their being written previous to delivery — an impression arising from admitted superiority over those of his contemporaries ; but further observation evinced this was not the case. He meditated deeply, and was sometimes heard to express his thoughts aloud. On new or important questions he com- mitted some of the chief heads of his argument to paper, but for the language in which it was conveyed, the colouring, illustration, and the whole artillery of that forcible diction and figurative boldness in which he has not merely no equa^ but no competitor for equality, he trusted to a well-stored mind, a retentive memory, and a readiness which from con- stant discipline in the school of debate, never failed him. Of his published speeches we have the authority of Gibbon who heard them, as well as of still more intimate friends, for the truth of the fact that they received little embellislnneut in passing through the press. It is well known indeed that the fragmentspreserved of several of them were written down after and not before delivery, assisted by the notes and recollec- tion of ditferent Members, his friends, and not unfrcquently of the public reporters. Some of his happiest sallies were the inspiration of the moment. A dictum of Mr. Fox has been current, which if truly stated must be considered either peculiar criticism, or showing a strong leaning to his own style of oratory wliicli was cer- tainly deficient in the point he is made to undervalue. It is represented that when a speech was praised in his presence, he usually inquired whether it read well ? and if answered in the afiirmative, replied ' then it was a bad speech.' No satisfactory reason perhaps can be assigned for this singular and questionable opinion, which if countenanced by a shadow of truth in a few instances in our own day, is at variance with the whole experience of the ancient, and much of the greater part of the modern world. Were it correct we must presume — and the belief requires some courage to avow — that the speeches of Demosthenes and Cicero were had speeches. The origin of such critical heterodoxy if it were ever serioixsly entertained, was perhaps some slight feeling of discontent in the mind of that eminent man, at the daily in- creasing celebrity of Burke's speeches, while his own 'Con- taining fewer of t'le same materials for immortality ;hat characterised those of his friend and master, were leas known 510 LIFE OF BURKE. 1794 or quoted, and might even retrograde in public opinion, as has really occurred, when no longer supported by personal popularity or party attachments. A writer of some consideration,* seems to insinuate that the speeches actually delivered in Parliament differed from those that issued from the press. This, if we may credit contemporary testimony is an error, unintentional no doubt though not unexpected from a zealous Foxite, who must always be excused where the credit of his principal is in question ; and he admits that there is nothing in Fox or Pitt, or indeed in any other orator up to Cicero, to be compared in any degree with the speeches of Burke. If there be in reality as he implies any difference between the speeches uttered and the speeches printed, it must be remembered that Burke published no speech after that on the Kabob of Arcot's debts in 1785, excepting a short abstract of that on the army estimates in 1790. He is therefore not respon- sible for any variations there may be in the reports given of them from what he actually delivered. Up to the period in question or nearly so, Gibbon who pursued opposite politics, had to listen to him night after night assailing not only the Ministry generally, but more especially the very office (that of a Lord of Trade) which he held, and who therefore it may be presumed looked pretty sharply to what he said, gives as we have seen in a previous page a contrary testimony. He is therefore directly opposed to the writer in question ; and of his superior means of judging, from being a Member of the House and a constant attendant upon it, there can be no dispute. There are likewise various scattered references in periodical works of that period, and in fragmentary notices of the debates in other quarters, which convey the impres- sion of verbal emendations only, not novelty of matter, being introduced; and to that privilege all orators are fairly entitled. HIS WRITINGS. To the thirst for oratorical renown and consequent weight in Parliament, Burke added the desire of acquiring power and celebrity by his pen. Fame even in the Senate must be stamped by the approval of the press. Avaricious thus of excel* • Mr. Charles Butler — Reminiscences, p. 166. 1797. HIS WEITINOS. 511 lence, he grasped at superiority in both modes of distinction, desirous to show the world that though in a series of two thousand years one of them had been found suihcient for the faculties of any one man, he at least possessed ability to write with, if possible, still more power than he could speak. Of this description of eminence he judged, and judged truly, that no superior party influence, no mere personal attach- ments, no jealousy, no misrepresentation either by Whig or Tory, no weight of purse, no family connexion however high, could deprive him ; for the world at large is an impartial and competent tribunal. Yet as men commonly deny the union of excellencies in any one person, the moment he was pronounced the greatest writer of the age — a verdict which few of his adversaries withheld — attempts were made to question, what was never questioned before, his power in the House of Commons. Dr. Parr thus alludes to it when speaking of him : " There is an unwillingness in the world to admit that the same mau has excelled in various piirsuits ; yet Burke's compositions, diversified as they are in their nature, though each excelling in its kind, who does not read with instruction and delight?" When this was written the French Eevolution had not taken place, and half his strength remained still unknown. That event drew it forth with new and irresistible eftect. He had to contend with much of the political and by far the greater part of the literary strength of the country, at least that portion of it which was seen most frequently in the press, and found not a single second of even moderate talents to assist him. Tet he overpowered all adversaries. His arm was indeed so vigorous as to give countenance to the general opinion that no allies* were necessary to one who was in • An anecdote of one of the smaller sort exhibits another instance of Mr. Burke's characteristic kindness. Serjeant Goold, of the Irish bar, then a briefless barrister, excited by admiration of the " Reflections on the Re- volution in France," and lately returned from Paris where he had witnessed the practical effects of the new system of liberty, wrote a reply to a few of Burke's assailants. At this time he was wholly unknown to the latter. Sometime afterward he received in Dublin a letter from him, stating that he had not forgotten his obliging pamphlet, and begged leave to return the favour by giving him an introduction that might be serviceable to his interests. Earl Fitzwilliam,the new Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, being to spend a few days at Beaconstield before his departure, if he would coma •ver and join the party, he might find the excursion neither unpleasaDi 612 LIFE OF r>URKE. 1797 himself an army ; for aid would be more likely to enfeeble than to support him. The advice given by an acute writer was in consequence literally followed : — In resistless prose, Leave Burke alone to thunder on our foes.' Pursuits of Literature. It was therefore with great propriety in allusion to his power over public opinion even some years previous to the Prench Revolution, that Boswell, wlio knew him so well, in a pamphlet published in 1785, applied to him the words of Vii'gil — Regum sequabat opes aniniis. It was early remarked among his characteristics that to a perseverance not to be overcome, to great original genius, and to extraordinary acquirements, he joined in the discus- sion of a subject unusual comprehensiveness of outline with minute accuracy of detail. What he says of Alfred the Great, in the Essay on English History (p. 297, Svo. edit.) may with strict truth be applied to himself — " In a word, he comprehended in the greatness of his mind the whole of government and all its parts at once ; and what is most difficult to human frailty, was at the same time sublime and minute." The reader of his works will be frequently led to appropriate this remark to him who made it, by observing his eagerness to embrace the Avhole of a subject; to leave no part iinsifted ; to place the matter in every variety of light, and to apply every possible illustration. He is rarely content without turning it back and front, inside and out, upside and down, so that no point likely to afford aid to the investigation of truth shall pass unexamined. This, which is one of the first merits of a disputant, was also his natural disposition. He cannot bear apparently to blink or narrow a question even when doing so may be supposed favourable to his views ; but sometimes gives the first hint of a difficulty in order to show his sknl in over- nor unprofitable. Mr. Goold, as he told the story, after some difficulty in raising the necessary sum for the journey, came, but too late. The society of such a man however well compensated the trouble ; and he returned to Dublin with such letters of introduction as would have had weight with the noble Eirl but fur his recall from that government. 1797. HIS WEITIIfGS. 513 coming it. It is contrary to the nature ot the man to be pent up within a small compass. He must have room. He is not to be hampered by common-place trammels. He can no more be thrust up into the straitened corner of a subject — a trick which the practised reasoner plays off on the more inexperienced —than you can squeeze an elephant into the den of a lion. The cast of his frame is too ponderous, his perceptions too acute to submit to be caught in a trap which is commonly set to hamper the unwary. He seldom takes a topic in hand without so far exhausting it that we find little interest, and frequently very little profit, in follow- ing any one else in the same track of argument. One of his chief excellencies is in being an original and profound thinker. He continually strikes out sometliing which is either new, or new in the connexion in which it stands, and thus contrives to throw together more nume- rous and important political truths, intermixed with great variety of moral observation drawn from acquaintance with the world, than any other writer on public affairs.* The same profundity of thought which qualifies him to make so many discoveries in his progress, enables him also to dis- pel a variety of errors. He traces a proposition to its source, and from its source through all its ramifications, so that if there be fallacy in any part he is pretty sure to detect it. Axioms and opinions relative to our domestic politics which were scarcely ever before doubted, are no sooner touched by his pen than they seem unsound or questionable. Several which might be mentioned he has wholly overthrown. The desire thoroughly to clear the way before him, to afford the fullest information, to leave nothing iniexplaiued or unanswered, has given rise to the charge of being dift'use. Diffuseness however implies something of weakness and verbosity ; and he must be a hardy critic who shall venture to declare that these are in any degree characteristic of hia * The remark made to me by an intellipvnt forei^iuT, domiciled in Elng'land and well read in Eni^-lish authors may be a near approach to truth as I have heard it from others — " Wlienever I am at a loss, Sir. on any public subject bearing on the interests or welfare of mankind, I begin to turn over the volumes of Mr. Burke. I may not find it to-day, or to-morrow, or next day, but eventually I light upon what I want, or some- thing closely connected with it so as to give the required inforuintion ; .TD FLY LEAVES. Vol. III. TRANSLATIONS into Eng^lish and Latin. VoL IV. THEOCRITUS, in English Verse. Original Editions. 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WEBSTER'S BRIEF INTERNATIONAL DICTIONARY. With Soo Illustrations. Demy Zvo., 35. A Pronouncing Dictionary of the English Language, Abridged from Webster's International Dictionary. With a Treatise on Pronunciation, List of Prefixes and Suffixes, Rules for Spelling, a Pronouncing Vocabulary of Proper Names in History, Geography and Mythology, and Tables of English and Indian Money, Weights, and Measures. London : GEORGE BELL & SONS, York Street, Covent Garden. MAY 1995 DATE DUE UU bUUmth(^' HtblUPJf'L LIBHPI AA 001 314 623 DA506 B9P75 1891 Prior, James, 1790?-1869 A life of Edmund Burke ^^-•^■:' -t