niary interests? To assert the affirmative of all this is the only consistent way of maintaining this paradox; his enemies are compelled to defend one absurdity by twenty-Again, to look at it on lower grounds, was Burke so little acquainted with human nature and the history of political factions, as not to know that if he did break with his party for any other reason but that of supposed duty, (in other words, because necessitated to do so,) the abuse and malignity with which he would be assailed, would be a costly price. to pay for the wages of apostacy? But further still, he had no pension-no favour-nothing but some empty compliments, (which he might have obtained more cheaply from his own party,) till 1795, six years after the publication of his "Reflections."-Would any man make a voluntary and most shameless sacrifice of character, and of interest too, upon such contingencies? Would he not have managed the whole business, since he is supposed to have managed the most important part of it, in the spirit of trade, and have asked, " what will you pay down for my apostacy? I must have the thirty pieces of silver told out to me." But the matter does not end here; so far from supporting the measures of the minister, whatever they might be, Burke differed from him almost as much as his own party did, and expressed that difference of sentiment as boldly. He went indeed as far beyond government in opposition to the Revolution, as Mr. Fox's party fell short of it. He was constantly goading on the ministry to a more vigorous and systematic prosecution of the war, and assailing them with the utmost severity, because they did not follow his advice. Was this the part of a hireling advocate, a fawning sycophant, who knows full well " the times and seasons,” and who will always find the measures of patrons to be measures of wisdom. Lastly, his very extravagances and violence, the tremendous extent to which he carried his opinions, the prompt and decisive manner in which he renounced party and friendship whenever he thought they stood in the way of his projects, the ill-judged, almost ferocious vehemence with which he often expressed himself, and the agony of terror in which he passed the latter years of his life, are all so many attestations to his sincerity. They might, if his adversaries so please, indicate the infirmities of his judgment, but could never be any other than evidence of his sincerity. Such extravagances are not symptoms of a cool, calculating, interested craftiness. Posterity may feel doubt as to whether his terrors were justified; but as to whether he really felt them, they will have none. A charge so outrageous as that now under consideration, could only have been inspired by the eagerness of political animosity, and must seem ridiculous to any who shall be in a situation to look at it soberly and calmly.

The

It remains to offer a few observations on Burke's principal writings. The earliest production which finds a place in his works, is his "Vindication of Natural Society." It was written at the early age of twenty-six, and its history is not a little

curious.

The posthumous works of Lord Bolingbroke, commonly though falsely called philosophical, had just been published. These works are distinguished in an almost equal degree for feebleness of thought and beauty of diction; for a superficial and flippant philosophy, but clothed in all the harmonies and graces of language. Still they are not without some use; it is convenient for the young writer to be furnished not only with specimens in which all the elements of eloquence are united, but with some in which each is found to the exclusion of the rest. Such specimens facilitate, at all events, the analysis of that most complex thing,-beautiful composition. Now while there are very many works, which exhibit powerful thought, dissociated from the beauties of style, there are comparatively few, which possess great excellence of style without correspondent excellences of a higher kind. This, however, is afforded us in the " Philosophical Works of Bolingbroke." They may be considered as affording an example of the abstract perfection of style; by them we may judge what are the powers of language as separated from sentiment, and in what proportions elegance, and harmony, and rhythm, contribute to the production of real eloquence.

Viewed in any other light, they are below contempt. Their aim is to render religion ridiculous by an exaggerated view of its abuses.

Burke had heard Bolingbroke's style pronounced inimitable. Emulous of rivalling the fame of this great master of language, and, at the same time, anxious to administer an antidote to his mischievous speculations, he wrote the ironical piece now under consideration. Adopting the very course of argument which Bolingbroke had pursued with reference to religion, he argues that as civil society has been the occasion of such great miseries to mankind, it would be well to return to a state of savage nature. Like Bolingbroke, he of course dwells exclusively on the evils of civil government; in other words, he confines himself to one side of the question.

The imitation was perfect, both in style and argument; so much so, that Mallett, to whom had been assigned the infamy of ushering the progeny of Lord Bolingbroke's shame into the world, thought it right to go to Dodsley's and disclaim Burke's piece. The argument, indeed, is carried on so gravely and with such an appearance of sincerity, that many persons have read it without the slightest suspicion that it was concealed irony. The composition conclusively shows Burke's early and complete mastery over language. As his style naturally possessed much of the character of Lord Bolingbroke's, it may be doubted, after all, whether he found it so difficult to imitate the mere composition of his Lordship, as to invest it with the requisite mediocrity of thought; to expel from his own style the nervous and vigorous argument which generally pervades it, and make it utter those inania grandia which fill the pages of his model.

The" Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful," was produced, it has been already observed, at the early age of twenty-seven. With this fact before us, it cannot surely appear wonderful that the treatise in question by no means contains a complete analysis of that most subtle and perplexing subject to which it relates. There were, however, other reasons besides the mere youth of the writer, which would account for the comparative inferiority of this piece. Those reasons have already been slightly glanced at in the attempt to discriminate the peculiarities of Burke's intellect. It was then remarked that his powers of observation were far superior to his powers of abstract reasoning or of close analysis. It was remarked, moreover, that the treatise now under consideration affords striking evidence of the correctness of this representation. It contains, especially in the II. and III. Parts, a very wide and comprehensive induction of the various objects, the presentation of which to the mind will give rise to the emotions of the sublime and beautiful. The greater part of these sections (as a collection of independent facts) evince great powers of observation. But the moment he attempts to found on these separate facts a general theory, or to trace throughout the whole of them some common properties in which emotions of the sublime and beautiful may be supposed to originate, or to analyze these emotions themselves into their primary elements, he is sure to fall into egregious errors, errors some of which are so glaring that even his youth hardly furnishes a sufficient apology. Thus (just to mention an instance or two) we find him attributing to certain colours and smells and tastes, apart from association, the power of awakening the ideas of the sublime! Again, having determined not only that the terrible enters into the composition of every emotion of the sublime, (which would be far from strictly true,) but that "whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime," he is led into a great many extravagances and much fanciful reasoning for the support of this hypothesis. Thus, after affirming (and rightly) that objects distinguished by the vastness of their dimensions are sublime, and having, as we have said, resolved that the terrible is always conjoined with the sublime, he accounts for the sublimity of vast objects in the following strange manner: That as the terrible is always connected with pain: and as the great number of rays which large objects emit, by crowding into the eye together, produce a

degree of tension on the membrane of the retina, " approaching nearly to the nature of what causes pain, this must produce an idea of the sublime!" A more unphilosophical theory in every respect can hardly be imagined. Upon precisely the same ground he endeavours to show how darkness is often the cause of the sublime. The foundation of the sublime, says he, is terror: where there is terror there must be pain: when left in darkness we strain our eyes with a painful effort in the endeavour to pierce it. This painful sensation is the cause of the sublimity of intense darkness! But, indeed, the whole theory (of which these are but particular instances) by which he attempts to show that all sublimity originates in the terrible, and ultimately in pain, is exceedingly absurd. Perhaps, however, the greatest extravagancies are to be found in the 5th and 6th Sections of Part IV., in which (perplexed with the fact that the sublime is often accompanied with strong delight) he endeavours to show "how pain can be a cause of delight!" His theory is purely mechanical; he argues, that as a moderate exercise of the muscles (though destructive of ease) is conducive to happiness and health, so the slight degree of pain given by strong stimulus ́ ́ to the "finer organs" by which the soul holds intercourse with the body, may be productive of delight!-We might in the same manner point out many other paradoxes in this treatise, if it were necessary. But what have been already specified, are surely sufficient. We have already acknowledged, that the youth of the writer should be a sufficient protection against the severity of criticism.

Probably many would be disposed to think, that had he devoted his maturer days instead of his youth, to abstract science, he would have excelled in it. It is very possible that this may be true; yet we cannot help thinking that it is eminently improbable. This very treatise in our opinion affords abundant proof, that from the very first his powers of observation—his aptitude for extensive inductions of facts—were possessed in far greater perfection than his talents for analysis or abstract reasoning, and would always have controlled his other intellectual tastes and habits.

One of the chief peculiarities of men who are distinguished by their talents for abstract reasoning, is the precision and exactness with which they define and employ their terms. Burke, on the other hand, is often strangely loose, even in the employment of technicalities of his own invention. Thus, having selected (by a most violent perversion of language) the word "delight" as distinguished from "positive pleasure," and as implying merely the "removal or moderation of pain," and having then told us that he intends always to employ the word in this sense, he is found within a few pages using it twice interchangeably with pleasure, to designate positive pleasure! * We may also remark that the "Enquiry" is distinguished in many parts by a vagueness and looseness of language quite incompatible with precision of thought, and utterly inconsistent with the severity of philosophy. Thus we are told in one place, that that degree of pain requisite to produce the sublime is a "sort of delightful horror, a sort of tranquillity tinged with terror." More obscure language than this, it is not easy to imagine.-It is but just, however, to Mr. Burke to mention that, in his maturer years, none laughed more heartily than himself at the philosophical paradoxes of his youth.t

The "Observations on a late Publication, entitled The Present State of the Nation," were written in reply to a pamphlet published by Mr. Grenville, or under his auspices, the design of which evidently was to alarm the nation by an exaggerated representation of its difficulties, (difficulties mainly owing, by the way, to the acts of his own administration, more especially to the passing of the Stamp Act,) to propitiate the public favour in behalf of his own and to disparage the Rockingham party. Burke's reply, which was most triumphant, has been already characterized in a previous part of this Essay. The style is unusually severe and simple.

* Part I. Sect. 14.

+ This fact is mentioned in Payne Knights' " Analytical Enquiry into the Principles of Taste."

L

His next great piece was composed in 1770, and entitled "Thoughts on the Present Discontents." This pamphlet is distinguished by greater severity of taste than any other of Burke's publications, if we except the "Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful;" while at the same time it abounds in passages which for force and elegance will scarcely suffer by comparison with any part of the "Reflections." But it has far higher merits than those of style. It is full of just and accurate views of the genius of the British constitution; and exposes, with amazing power and sarcasm, (though, perhaps, here and there he is guilty of some degree of exaggeration,) the corruptions and intrigues of an age of profligate politics; an age when private management and cabal behind the throne threatened silently to undermine all the principles of the constitution, and to leave the nation little better than the name and theory of freedom. He shows that such a system, if successful, would be far more dangerous than the attempts at open despotism in the preceding century. He boldly contends that the influence of the people should compel the parliament to be independent, and even affirms that" Until a confidence in government is re-established, the people ought to be excited to a more strict and detailed attention to the conduct of their representatives. Standards for judging more systematically upon their conduct ought to be settled in the meetings of counties and corporations. Frequent and correct lists of the voters in all important questions ought to be procured."

It is singular after this, that Burke should have been such a determined enemy to Parliamentary Reform. One would have thought that he must have seen, that the only effectual remedy for those evils which he had so ably exposed, was a measure which should dissolve that ancient and long-consolidated system of corruption and intrigue of which the country had such bitter cause to complain. In the same pamphlet, he enters on an elaborate defence of party connexions, showing that whatever evils might attend them, they furnished more than a counterbalance of advantages; and that an adherence to party on great general principles was quite consistent with a manly and open dissent on subordinate points of policy.

The pieces on the American war consist of the speeches on " American Taxation," on "Conciliation with America," and his "Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol." They all evince the same minuteness and compass of information on the subject; the same profound political wisdom; the same almost prophetic knowledge of the consequences of the fatal policy adopted by the ministry. The first was chiefly designed to show the inexpediency of any attempt at taxation, to expose the dubious and hesitating conduct which had been adopted, and to urge the policy of immediately repealing every impost. The second contains a plan for conciliation. Its chief features are a total abandonment of taxation, and a generous confidence in the local assemblies to furnish, in any cases of extreme emergency, their just proportion of revenue to the mother country. The Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol, expresses the same great general principles, and something more. It is observable, that by this time Burke was willing not only to maintain the inexpediency of taxing America, but to abandon the right of doing so. At the commencement of the dispute he had carefully avoided this question, affirming that its decision was by no means necessary to a practical adjustment of every real difficulty. The reasons of this his change of opinion are such as might naturally be expected from the whole character of Burke's system of policy. He had hitherto abstained from the discussion of this topic, because he thought that less than the abandonment of the abstract right of taxation would satisfy America. He now saw, however, that the disputes between the two nations had gradually brought it into full discussion, and that its decision could no longer be delayed.

The speech on "Economical Reform," the design of which was pretty fully stated in a former page, is only excluded from ranking with the very best of Mr. Burke's productions, from the comparative narrowness and transient interest of the subject. In every thing else, it is equalled by few of his productions and is inferior to none. If, indeed, we

wished for a piece which should precisely embody, in small compass, all Burke's reigning peculiarities of intellect, we should fix here. The cautious character of his policy is evinced by the strictly practical character of all the changes he proposes and the respect he pays to those existing interests which he managed in some way or other to reconcile with them. In the minuteness of the details into which he enters, and on which he founds his reasoning, and the great principles which he elicits from them, he displays in a peculiar manner the comprehensiveness of his intellect, equally adapted as it was to the vast and the minute; while his imagination has managed to inform the driest and most barren parts of the subject with all the attractions of poetry. Under his genius, even the details of finance are clothed in grace and beauty; under the inspiring breath of his fancy, even the "wilderness rejoices, and the desert blossoms as the rose." We have already cited passages from this speech which fully illustrate these remarks.

The spirit which pervades this speech may probably be thought by many too cautious, and the reforms proposed in it too limited; but there can hardly be a doubt, that the general principles it unfolds are those of the profoundest political wisdom. It deserves, in this respect, to be the manual and text-book of every reformer.

The speech addressed to the "Electors of Bristol," in defence of his public conduct, is not only a consummate proof of Burke's wondrous powers, but one of the noblest exhibitions of honesty and integrity on record. If his history had furnished us only with this solitary proof of his independence of mind, it ought to have been a sufficient protection against the virulent charges of the most unblushing apostacy, brought against him in the latter part of his life. Nothing less than a total revolution of his whole moral nature, (of which there is not the slightest proof,) could have rendered it possible for the man who acted the part he acted at Bristol, to truckle and shuffle, either for office or for popularity. But this speech of Burke's is valuable for far higher purposes than those of illustrating his own character. While vindicating his own public conduct, he as usual deduces principles of universal application, from the peculiar circumstances before him; and enters into a most just and philosophical exposition of the mutual relations between a representative and his constituents.

The writings on India are the most voluminous of all his works. The speeches on Mr. Fox's India Bill, and on the Nabob of Arcot's debts, were published by himself. Both display the most extensive and familiar knowledge of the complicated affairs of our Eastern Empire. The speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts, especially, cannot be read without obtaining no inconsiderable knowledge of Hindostan generally, and of its then condition. It is full of those graphic sketches--those felicitous descriptions, to which reference has been made, and of which some specimens have been selected in a previous part of this Essay. It is in fact one of the most surprising achievements of genius, that he should be able to excite our interest and our sympathies so keenly on a subject, connected with scenes. and events so remote, and with customs, usages, and manners so utterly strange to us. Nothing but the highest powers of selection and combination could have brought matter so extensive into so small a compass, or arranged details so complicated in an order so lucid and perspicuous. None but Burke himself could have redeemed such a subject from inextricable perplexities and confusion.

The two remaining pieces on Indian affairs contained in these volumes (it has been already intimated that the speeches on the Hastings trial are not included) are the "Articles of Charge," and three Parliamentary Reports-two " on the Affairs of India," and the third" from a Committee appointed to Inspect the Lords' Journals in Relation to their Proceedings on the Trial of Warren Hastings." They are all remarkable documents, and almost equally eloquent, though in totally different ways. The "Articles" are a full and voluminous digest of the charges against Warren Hastings, expressed in the most energetic language. Some parts of this production are, indeed, far too violent, considering