directly as he intended, of great and lasting benefits to a hundred and fifty millions of people.

In addition to these labors, and during their greatest urgency, Mr. Burke was drawn into a new conflict with Mr. Pitt, of the most exciting nature. The King became deranged in October, 1788, and the "Regency Question" instantly arose to agitate and divide the empire. The Opposition took the ground that the Prince of Wales had the inherent right, as heir of the crown, to act as regent during his father's loss of reason. Mr. Pitt denied this right, affirming that it lay with Parlia ment alone to provide for such an exigency-that they might commit the custody of the King's person and the administration of the government to other hands, if they saw fit; and might impose whatever restrictions they thought proper on the authority of the Prince of Wales, if they declared him regent. The subject more naturally belongs to the measures of Mr. Fox, and will be dwelt upon hereafter in the sketch of his life. It is necessary in this place only to say, that Mr. Burke took up the question, which was debated nearly two months, with more than his ordinary zeal and strength of feeling. He thought the Prince of Wales was treated with harshness and injustice. He maintained his cause with consummate ability; and it is now known that he drew up the celebrated letter on the subject, addressed by the Prince to Mr. Pitt, which has been so much admired, not only as a fine specimen of English composition, but as showing "the true, transmigrating power of genius, which enabled him thus to pass his spirit into the station of royalty, and to assume the calm dignity, both of style and feeling, that became it."

It has been already remarked that the first period of Mr. Burke's political life was the happiest. He was on the ascendent scale of influence and usefulness. His faculties were fresh; his hopes were high; and whenever he rose to speak, he was cheered by the consciousness of being listened to with interest and respect. But after the defeat of Mr. Fox's East India Bill, all was changed. In common with Mr. Fox, he was loaded with unpopularity; and, being retired in his habits, he never attempted, like his great leader, to cast off the odium thus incurred by a familiar intercourse with his political opponents. On the contrary, he was often drawn into personal altercations with Mr. Pitt, in which he lost his temper, and thus became doubly exposed to that cutting sarcasm or withering contempt with which the young minister knew how, better than any man of his age, to overwhelm an antagonist. A course of systematic insult was likewise adopted by certain members of the House, for the purpose of putting him down. "Muzzling the lion" was the term applied to such treatment of the greatest genius of the age. When he arose to speak, he was usually assailed with coughing, ironical cheers, affected laughter, and other tokens of dislike. Such things, of course, he could not ordinarily notice; though he did, in one instance, stop to remark, that " he could teach a pack of hounds to yelp with more melody and equal comprehension." George Selwyn used to tell a story with much effect, of a country member who exclaimed, as Mr. Burke rose to speak with a paper in his hand, "I hope the gentleman does not mean to read that large bundle of papers, and bore us with a speech into the bargain!" Mr. Burke was so much overcome, or rather suffocated with rage, that he was incapable of utterance, and rushed at once out of the House. "Never before," said Selwyn, "did I see the fable realized, of a lion put to flight by the braying of an ass.' Such treatment soured his mind; and as he advanced in years, he was sometimes betrayed into violent fits of passion before the House, which were a source of grief to his friends, and of increased insult from his enemies. Under all these discouragements, however," Nitor in adversum" was still his motto. His public labors were such as no other man of the age could have performed. Besides his attendance on the House, he had nearly all the burden of carrying forward Mr. Hastings' impeachment; involving charges more

complicated in their nature, and embracing a wider range of proof, than had ever been submitted to an English tribunal. Seven years were spent in this drudgery; and it shows the unconquerable spirit of Mr. Burke, that he never once faltered, but brought his impeachment to a close with a dignity becoming his own character and the greatness of the interests involved.

In thus reaching forward to the end of Mr. Hastings' trial, we have already entered on the third period of Mr. Burke's political life. As America was the leading object of interest in the first, and India in the second of these great divisions of his public labors, FRANCE and its portentous revolution occupied the third stage of his eventful career, and called forth, at the close of life, the most brilliant efforts of his genius. It is a striking fact, that Mr. Burke was the only man in England who regarded the French Revolution of 1789, from its very commencement, with jealousy and alarm. Most of the nation hailed it with delight, and Mr. Pitt, no less than Mr. Fox, was carried away for a time in the general current of sympathy and admiration. But Mr. Burke, in writing to a friend only two months after the assembling of the States-General, expressed his fears of the result in the following terms: "Though I thought I saw something like this in progress for several years, it has something in it paradoxical and mysterious. The spirit it is impossible not to admire; but the Parisian ferocity has broken out in a shocking manner. It is true this may be no more than a sudden explosion; if so, no indication can be taken from it. But if it should be character rather than accident, the people are not fit for liberty." A few months confirmed his worst apprehensions. The levity, rashness, and presumption which had so long characterized the French nation, gained a complete ascendency. The better class of men who shared in the early movement were at first set aside, and soon after driven away or murdered. The States-General, breaking up the original balance of the Constitution, resolved the three chambers into one, under the name of the National Assembly; and the Third Estate, or Commons, became not only the sole legislative, but the sole governing power of the country. The galleries of that assembly were filled with a Parisian mob, which dictated to the representatives of the people the measures to be adopted. The sway of a ferocious populace became unrestrained. The King and Queen were dragged in triumph from Versailles to Paris, where they were virtually held as prisoners from the first, in fearful expectation of the fate which ultimately befell them. All this took place within little more than three months!10

It may be said, however, that the Revolution was at last productive of important benefits to France; and some persons seem for this reason to have a vague impres

10 The States-General resolved themselves into the National Assembly on the 17th of June, and the King and Queen were taken from Versailles to Paris on the 6th of October, 1789.

The following extracts from the diary and correspondence of Mr. Gouverneur Morris, the American minister at Paris during the early stages of the Revolution, show that his views of the French people at this time coincided with those of Mr. Burke. "There is one fatal principle which pervades all ranks. It is, a perfect indifference to the violation of engagements. Inconstancy is so mingled in the blood, marrow, and very essence of this people, that, when a man of high rank and importance laughs to-day at what he seriously asserted yesterday, it is considered the natural order of things."-Sparks' Life of Morris, vol. ii., p. 68. It is not, therefore, wonderful, that Mr. Morris had no faith in the Revolution. He told Lafayette, in reference to the leaders of it, "Their views respecting this nation are totally inconsistent with the materials of which it is composed, and the worst thing which could possibly happen would be to grant their wishes." Lafayette acknowledged the fact. "He tells me he is sensible that his party are mad, and tells them so."—Vol. i., 314. At a later period, speaking of Lafayette as commander of the National Guards, he says, “La fayette has marched [to Versailles] by compulsion, guarded by his own troops, who suspect and threaten him. Dreadful situation! Obliged to do what he abhors, or suffer an ignominious death, with the certainty that the sacrifice of his life will not prevent the mischief."-Vol. i., 327. Mr. Morris seems to have anticipated from the first, what happened at no very distant period, that Lafayette would be obliged to flee from France, to escape the dagger of the assassin.

sion that Mr. Burke did wrong in opposing it. There is no doubt that this utter disruption of society was the means of removing great and manifold abuses, just as the fire of London burned out the corruptions of centuries in the heart of that city. But no one hesitates, on this account, to condemn the spirit of the incendiary. It should also be remembered, that these benefits were not the natural or direct results of the rash spirit of innovation opposed by Mr. Burke. On the contrary, they were never experienced until the nation had fled for protection against that spirit, to one of the sternest forms of despotism. Nor can any one prove that the benefits in question could be purchased only at this terrible expense. Lafayette, at least, always maintained the contrary; and the writer has reason to know that, in recommending Mignet's History of the Revolution to a friend as worthy of confidence, he made a distinct exception on this point, censuring in the strongest terms a kind of fatalism which runs through the pages of that historian, who seems to have regarded the whole series of crimes and miseries which marked that frightful convulsion, as the only possible means of doing away the evils of the old régime. But, even if this were so, who, at that early period, was to discover such a fact? And who is authorized, at the present day, to speak slightingly of Mr. Burke as rash and wanting in sagacity, because, while his predictions were so many of them fulfilled to the very letter, an overruling Providence brought good out of evil, in a way which no human forecast could anticipate? It should be remembered, too, that Mr. Burke never looked on the Revolution as an isolated fact, a mere struggle for power or for a new form of government, involving the interests of the French people alone. Considered in this light, he would have left it to take its course; he would never probably have written a syllable on the subject. But an event of this kind could not fail to affect the whole system of European politics, as a fire, breaking out in the heart of a forest, endangers the habitations of all who dwell on its borders. Whatever he said and wrote respecting France was, therefore, primarily intended for England. "Urit proximus Ucalegon," was his own account of his reasons for coming forward. "Whenever our neighbor's house is on fire, it can not be amiss for the engines to play a little Better be despised for too anxious apprehensions, than ruined by too confident a security." There were many in Great Britain who not only justified the early excesses of the Revolution, and exulted when they saw the King and Queen of France led to prison by a mob, but significantly pointed to a repetition of similar scenes upon English ground. Dr. Price, in a sermon before the Constitutional Society, said, in respect to the King of France, "led in triumph, and surrendering himself to his subjects,' I am thankful that I have lived to see this period. I could almost say, 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.'' When clergymen went so far, men of the world very naturally went farther. Societies were soon formed in London and the other large towns of the kingdom, "with the avowed purpose of obtaining political reformation by other means than those which the Constitution pointed out as legitimate.""" Some of them maintained a correspondence with the Jacobin clubs of Paris; and, at a somewhat later period, five thousand persons belonging to the united societies of London, Manchester, and other places, held the following language, in a public address to the French National Assembly: "We are of opinion that it is the duty of every true Briton to assist, to the utmost of our power, the defenders of the rights of man, and to swear inviolable friendship to a nation which proceeds on the plan you have adopted. Frenchmen, you are already free, and Britons are preparing to become so."12 It was under these circumstances, and

on our own.

11 Wade's British History, p. 551.

12 It is stated in the London Christian Observer for 1807, which was edited at that time by Zachary Macaulay, Esq., father of the celebrated historian, "there seems to be but little doubt of the formation of a plan to raise an insurrection in London about the close of 1792 or the beginning

of 1793."

while such a spirit was beginning to prevail in the country, that Mr. Burke came forward to guard the people of England against the infection of principles which tended to such results. Whatever may have been his errors at a later period, who will question whether he was right in warning his countrymen against every thing that could engender a spirit of insurrection? Without deciding whether the liberties of the people can ever be established on the Continent of Europe except by open rebellion, all will agree that nothing could be more disastrous to the cause of free principles than any attempts at reform in England by violence and bloodshed. The Revolution of 1688 has opened a new era on this subject. The progress of the English in throwing off the abuses which still belong to their political system, will take place hereafter in a series of peaceful revolutions, like that of Parliamentary Reform in 1832. The right of petition among such a people has more force than the bayonet. When they are once united in a good cause, neither the crown nor the peerage can stand before them.

The first reference to the French Revolution on the floor of the House of Commons was made by Mr. Fox in a debate on the army estimates, February 5th, 1790. He spoke of it in terms of eulogy and of high expectation, applauding especially the defec tion of the French soldiery from their officers and government. "It is now known throughout all Europe," he said, "that a man, by becoming a soldier, does not cease to be a citizen." These last remarks were certainly unfortunate. Unqualified as they were, they might naturally be understood to recommend a similar course to British soldiers in the event of civil commotions. It was still more unfortunate that, when Colonel Phipps, who followed, reminded him of this, stating the entire difference be tween the situation of things in England and France, and pointing, as a better example, to the conduct of the English troops during the London riots of 1780, "who patiently submitted to insult, and, in defiance of provocation, maintained the laws of the realm, acting under the authority of the civil power," Mr. Fox did not instantly avail himself of the opportunity to explain his remarks, and guard them against such an application. On the contrary, he remained silent! In justice to Mr. Burke, this fact ought to be kept in view as we approach the period of his separation from Mr. Fox. The leader of the Whig party, if he expected the continued support of his adherents, was bound to free them from all imputations on a subject like this. Four days after, when the question came up again, Mr. Burke felt bound to express his feelings at large, in view of Mr. Fox's remarks. In the course of his speech, he said,

The

"Since the House was prorogued in the summer, much work has been done in France. French have shown themselves the greatest architects of ruin that have hitherto existed in the world. In that very short space of time they have completely pulled down to the ground their monarchy, their Church, their nobility, their law, their revenue, their army, their navy, their commerce, their arts, and their manufactures. They have done their business for us as rivals in a way which twenty Ramillies and Blenheims could never have done.

"In the last age we were in danger of being entangled by the example of France in a net of relentless despotism. That no longer exists. Our present danger arises from the example of a people whose character knows no medium. It is, with regard to government, a danger from anarchy a danger of being led, through admiration of successful fraud and violence, to imitation of the excesses of an irrational, unprincipled, proscribing, confiscating, plundering, ferocious, bloody, and tyrannical democracy. On the side of religion, the danger of their example is no longer in intolerance, but atheism-a foul, unnatural vice, foe to all the dignity and consolation of mankind, which seems in France, for a long time, to have been embodied into a faction, accredited and almost avowed. These are our present dangers from France.

"But the very worst part of the example set is, in the late assumption of citizenship by the army, and the whole of the arrangement of their military. I am sorry that my right honorable friend has dropped even a word expressive of exultation on that circumstance. I attribute this opinion of Mr. Fox entirely to his own zeal for the best of all causes-liberty. It is with pain inexpressible I am obliged to have even a shadow of a difference with my friend, whose authority would be always great with me and with all thinking people. My confidence in Mr. Fox is such and so ample as to be almost implicit. I am not ashamed to avow that degree of docility, for, when the choice is well made, it strengthens instead of oppressing our intellect. He who calls in the aid of an equal understanding doubles his own. He who profits of a superior understanding, raises

his power to a level with the height of the superior understanding he unites with. I have found the benefit of such a junction, and would not lightly depart from it. I wish almost on all occasions my sentiments were understood to be conveyed in Mr. Fox's words, and wish, among the greatest benefits I can wish the country, an eminent share of power to that right honorable gentleman, because I know that to his great and masterly understanding he has joined the greatest possible degree of that natural moderation which is the best corrective of power. He is of the most artless, candid, open, and benevolent disposition; disinterested in the extreme; of a temper mild and placable even to a fault, without one drop of gall in his whole constitution. The House must perceive, from my coming forward to mark an expression or two of my best friend, how anxious I am to keep the distemper of France from the least countenance in England, where some wicked persons have shown a strong disposition to recommend an imitation of the French spirit of reform.

"I am so strongly opposed to any the least tendency toward the means of introducing a democracy like theirs, as well as to the end itself, that, much as it would afflict me if such a thing could be attempted, and that any friend of mine should concur in such measures, I would abandon my best friends and join with my worst enemies to oppose either the means or the end."

1113

Mr. Fox replied in kind and respectful language, but he did not explain or modify his expressions respecting the soldiery (referred to by Mr. Burke) in those full and explicit terms which the occasion seemed to require. He certainly looked for no reforms in England, except through the regular channels provided by the Constitution. He ought, therefore, to have accepted the distinction suggested by Colonel Phipps, and declared at once, that whatever might be proper in France, the English soldiery ought not to turn upon their officers, or resist the civil magistrate. Such a declaration would have been useful in the excited state of the public mind at that period, and it seems to have been absolutely demanded by the shape which the question had assumed. Instead of this, he simply said, "He never would lend himself to support any cabal or scheme formed in order to introduce any dangerous innovation into our excellent Constitution"-language which was at least rather indefinite; and declared as to the soldiery, that "when he described himself as exulting over the success of some of the late attempts in France, he certainly meant to pay a just tribute of applause to those who, feelingly alive to a sense of the oppressions under which their countrymen had groaned, disobeyed the despotic commands of their leaders, and gallantly espoused the cause of their fellow-citizens, in a struggle for the acquisition of that liberty, the sweets of which we all enjoyed." He said, also, that while he lamented the scenes of bloodshed and cruelty among the French, he thought these excesses should be "spoken of with some degree of compassion ;" and that he be lieved their present state, unsettled as it was, to be preferable to their former condition." Such views were so entirely different from those of Mr. Burke, that it was already apparent they could not act much longer in concert.

66

Mr. Sheridan now came forward to widen the breach. His remarks are given very differently by different reporters. One of them represents him as charging Mr. Burke with "deserting from the camp; with assaulting the principles of freedom itself; with defending despotism; with loving to obtrude himself as the libeler of liberty, and the enemy of men laboring for the noblest objects of mankind." His language, as afterward given in the Parliamentary History, is less harsh; but, whatever may have beon his exact expressions, they were such as induced Mr. Burke to rise at once, and declare, in calm but indignant terms, that "such language ought to have been spared, were it only as a sacrifice to the ghost of departed friendship. The language itself was not new to him; it was but a repetition of what was to be perpetually heard at the reforming clubs and societies with which the honorable gentleman had lately become entangled, and for whose plaudits he had chosen to sacrifice his friends, though he might in time find that the value of such praise was not worth the price at which it was purchased. Henceforward they were separated in politics forever."

13 Parliamentary History, vol. xxviii., p. 356.

14 Moore ascribes this to jealousy, a fault never before charged on Burke. Sheridan's habits were bad, and this made it easy for Burke to give him up.