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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."

The "Reflections" provoked innumerable replies. The most celebrated of these were the "Vindicia Gallica" of Sir James Macintosh, by far the ablest of them all. Tom Paine responded in "The Rights of Man."

The gentleman to whom the "Reflections" were addressed having written a short letter in answer, Mr. Burke was induced to publish his "Letter to a Member of the National Assembly," in which he enforces and illustrates the arguments contained in the "Reflections." Soon after followed a pamphlet, entitled "Hints for a Memorial to M. de Montmorin." It had for object the mediation of the British government between the French monarch and his people. The negociation contemplated the concession of a free constitution to the French.

A complete alienation between Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke was now at hand, in consequence of their difference of opinion on the French Revolution. This unhappy dispute gradually progressed in the warmth of public debate. Their final quarrel took place in the House of Commons, on the 28th December, 1791. On that memorable occasion, Mr. Burke's horror of the French Revolution led him into an act of egregious bad taste. After mentioning that he understood that 3000 daggers had been ordered from Birmingham, he drew one from under his coat, and exclaiming, "This is what you are to gain by an

alliance with France; this is your fraternisation," he threw it on the floor. At the close of his speech, addressing himself to Mr. Fox, he exclaimed, "My right honourable friend no more." No sooner had he said this, than he darted across the House and seated himself by the side of Mr. Pitt, on the ministerial benches. Burke, however right in political principle, is certainly to be blamed for this violence and for his subsequent persevering, and, for him, unusual animosity against his former friend.

To justify his opinions, Mr. Burke, in 1791, published his " Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs;" and soon after he put forth a paper, under the title of "Thoughts on French Affairs." The principles it designed to enforce, are these, that no internal cause would produce a counter-revolution in France; that the system would strengthen the longer it continued; and that so long as it existed, it would be the interest of France to disturb and distract all foreign governments.

He once more also exerted himself on behalf of the Irish Catholics, against the severity of the penal laws. On this occasion he wrote the first letter to Sir Hercules Langrishe. The Bill soon after introduced into the Irish parliament, conferred upon the Catholics the privileges of practising law, intermarrying with protestants, together with several other important advantages, in connection with education and commerce; and, at length, the elective franchise.

In the midst of parliamentary duties, Mr. Burke did not forget France for an instant. It absorbed his time and his thoughts. In November he drew up "Heads for Consideration on the Present State of Affairs," purposing to excite war, and to show that

no country in Europe could successfully battle with France unaided by England. He exhibited great diligence in obtaining information of the state of France. He even sent his son to the French princes, staying at Coblentz. On his return, he brought over M. Cazales, a member of the National Assembly, distinguished as the opponent of Mirabeau. By his son's efforts he also opened a correspondence with some of the ministers of Austria and Prussia.

In November, 1793, Mr. Burke published another piece on his exhaustless theme, French affairs. It was entitled, "Remarks on the Policy of the Allies." It attributed the disasters of the war to want of combination and energy on the part of the allies, to mutual jealousies, to cowardice in some, and secret love of revolutionary principles in others. He also wrote a preface to a Mr. William Bourke's Translation of Brissot's Address to his Constituents, which contains a brilliant and masterly sketch of the Brissotin and Robespierre faction. In the house, Mr. Burke scarcely spoke at all till quite towards the close of the session.

The parliament, the last in which he sat, broke up in July, 1794. Soon after, the Duke of Portland's party joined the ministry, a step which was strongly urged by Mr. Burke, and mainly effected by his mediation.

The darkest hour of Mr. Burke's life drew nigh; a calamity awaited him which did more to paralyze his energies and to hasten his death than all the agitating conflicts and labours of his past life put together. This was the death of that only and beloved son, from whom he had hoped so much; to whom he looked as

the stay and solace of his declining age, and as the heir not only of his fame, but of a fame still brighter than his own. Young Burke possessed much to justify parental affection. He had talents excellent in themselves, and assiduously cultivated. His knowledge was extensive, for his studies were directed, and his mind formed, under his father, a man himself of boundless information-a man whose most casual conversation was rich with instruction-a man, too, who believed that almost everything might be accomplished by industry, and who was the mortal enemy to those great allies of ignorance,-sloth and dissipation! To this the son added amiability of disposition and devotedness to his parents. These real accomplishments, and real excellences, the father's ardent imagination had decked out in celestial colours and ideal graces, and on this picture of imaginary perfection his fancy had been accustomed to delight for years. No wonder that he watched with intense anxiety the opening of this fair flower, or that he felt with overwhelming anguish the rude stroke that laid its young beauty in the dust.

It appears that exactly when the fatal symptoms of his son's last illness disclosed themselves, Mr. Burke had relinquished to him his seat for Malton, and had even procured for him the appointment of secretary to Lord Fitzwilliam, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. Dazzled by the bright scenes which his hopes had conjured up, he could not see, what every one else perceived plainly enough, that the days of his son were numbered. Of this he was totally unconscious, and no one dared to tell him. Dr. Brocklesby, the physician of the family, declared from his long knowledge of the intensity of Burke's

affection, that any such disclosure would probably be fatal, and brief as was the term of the son's existence would render that of the father still shorter.

Young Burke was removed to Cromwell House, near Brompton, for the sake of the country air. The unhappy father, who still never thought of danger, selected for him this residence near town, that he might be ready to depart for Ireland at a moment's notice, as soon as his health permitted. Here, however, all the symptoms rapidly grew worse, and the physician, no longer able to disguise the truth, disclosed the horrors of the case just a week before its fatal termination. From this moment, Burke abandoned himself to the desperation of sorrow; "his was a grief which would not be comforted."

Young Burke passed the night before his dissolution in much pain and restlessness. Early in the morning, he heard the voice of sorrow in the adjoining apartment, where his parents had spent a night of yet deeper wretchedness. Anxious to alleviate their affliction, he resolved, if possible, to delude them, by an affectionate deceit, into the belief that he was stronger than he really was. Rising with some difficulty, he requested to be supported to the door of the apartment in which his father and mother were sitting. There he dismissed his attendants, and, making a last effort, walked twice or thrice across the room. But his parents were not to be deceived, and they looked on in silent agony, Finding his efforts to console them vain, "Speak to me, my dear father," said he, "speak to me of religion, speak to me of morality, speak to me of indifferent matters, for I derive much satisfaction

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