Letters Of Edmund Burke A Selection Edited With An Introduction

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Worlds Classics

CCXXXVIl

LETTERS OF EDMUND BURKE
A SELECTION

LETTERS

OF

EDMUND BURKE

A Selection

Edited, with an Introduction

BY

HAROLD J. LASKI

OF THE LONDON SCHOOL OF ECONOMICS AND
POLITICAL SCIENCE

HUMPHREY MILFOKD
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW COPENHAGEN

NEW YORK TORONTO MELBOURNE CAPETOWN

BOMBAY CALCUTTA MADRAS SHANGHAI

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

PAGE

xiii

1744-7

LETTERS :

[The grouping is intended to mark both the chronological

gaps and the years of special interest.]

To Richard Shackleton . . 9 Jan. 1744 1

To the same .... 1 Nov. 1744 4

To the same .... 25 Jan. 1745 6

To the same .... 3 Feb. 1746 8

To the same .... 26 Apr. [1746] 10

To the same .... 12 July 1746 11

To the same . . . .21 Mar. 1746-7 12

To Richard Shackleton
To the same

To Richard Shackleton

1751-2

1757

31 Aug. 1751
28 Sept. 1752

1763

To William Gerard Hamilton
To the same
To John Hely Hutchinson .

1765-8

To J. Monck Mason
To Henry Mood .
To the Marquis of Rockingham
To the same

15
16

10 Aug. 1757 20

Mar. [1763] 22

[1763] 25

[1763] 28

1765 31

18 May 1765 34

21 Aug. 1766 38

1 Aug. 1767 40

CONTENTS

To the Marquis of Rockingham

To Richard Shackleton

To the Marquis of Rockingham

1769

To the Marquis of Rockingham
To the same
To the same
To the same
To the same
To the same
To the same
To the same

1770

To Richard Shackleton
To the Marquis of Rockingham
To the same
To Arthur Young

1771

To Charles Townshend
To the Bishop of Chester
To Charles Townshend
To [the Bishop of Chester]

1772

To William Dowdeswell
To the same

To the Marquis of Rockingham
To the Duke of Richmond .
To the Marquis of Rockingham
To the same
To a Prussian Gentleman

PAGE

18 Aug. 1767 44

1 May 1768 46

18 July 1768 48

2 July 51

9 July 54

30 July 59

Sept. 61, 65

9 Oct. 67

29 Oct.
6 Nov.

15 Aug.

8 Sept.

23 Sept.

21 Oct.

71

75

79
81

17 Oct. 91

9 Nov. 92

24 Nov. 94

1771 95

27 Oct. 136

7 Nov. 140

11 Nov. 146

17 Nov. 149

19 Nov. 157

23 Nov. 158

1772 162

CONTENTS ix

1773 PAGE

To the Marquis of Rockingham . 10 Jan. 165, 174

To Richard Burke, Jun., and T. King . Feb. 176

1774

To the Marquis of Rockingham . . 2 Feb. 178

To the Duke of Richmond . . . Sept. 180
To the Marquis of Rockingham . , 16 Sept. 183

To the same 5 Dec. 189

1775

To James Barry .... 15 Jan. 192

To William Burgh .... 9 Feb. 194

To the Marquis of Rockingham . . 4 Aug. 196

To Arthur Lee 22 Aug. 198

To the Marquis of Rockingham . . 23 Aug. 199

To the Duke of Richmond ... 26 Sept. 206

To the Marquis of Rockingham . . 17 Oct. 209

1776

To Richard Champion . ... . Mar. 210

To John Bourke 11 July 211

1777-9

To a Member of the Bell Club, Bristol 31 Oct. 1777 213

To Richard Champion ... 14 Apr. 1778 217

To John Noble .... 24 Apr. 1778 219

To Richard Shackleton . . 25 May 1779 221

To Dr. John Curry ... 14 Aug. 1779 225

1780

To Richard Shackleton . . . 6 May 227

To the same June 229

To the Lord Chief Justice of the Common

Pleas 15 June 231

To Joseph Harford .... 27 Sept. 234

CONTENTS

1781-2

1785

1787-90

To Sir Thomas Eumbold
To William Burke

To Philip Francis

To Henry Dondas
To Charles James Fox .
To William Windham .
To Monsieur Dupont .
To Philip Francis
To Captain Mercer
To William Windham .

1791

To the Hon. John Trevor
To the Chevalier de la Bintinnaye
To the Chevalier de Eivarol .
To Eichard Burke, Jun.
To the Queen of France
To Eichard Burke, Jun.

1792

To Eichard Burke, Jun.

To William Weddell .

To Eichard Burke, Jun.

To the same

To Lord Grenville

To William Burke

To Eichard Burke, Jun.

To the Comte de Mercy
To Eichard Burke, Jun.
To Emperor Woodf ord
To Eev. Dr. Hussey .

1793-5

PAGE

23 Mar. 1781 240

24 April 1782 244

10-23 Dec. 246

25 Mar. 1787 252
[Nov. 1788] 255

24 Jan. 1789 257

. Oct. 1789 266

20 Feb. 1790 279

26 Feb. 1790 284

21 Dec. 1790 290

Jan. 291

Mar. 294

1 June 298

16 Aug. 304

. 314

. 26 Sept. 317

26 Jan.
31 Jan.

Mar.
23 Mar.
18 Aug.

Sept.
9 Sept.

323
325
342
345
347
353
359

Aug. 1793 361

10 Jan. 1794 371

13 Jan. 1794 372

18 May 1795 377

CONTENTS

1796

To Dr. Laurence 18 Nov. 383

To the same 25 Dec. 388

To the same 28 Dec. 390

To Thomas Keogh .... 17 Nov. 391

To Rev. Dr. Hussey .... Dec. 395

1797

To Dr. Laurence . . . . 10-12 Feb. 410

To the same 12 May 414

To Arthur Young .... 23 May 423

INDEX . .... 425

INTRODUCTION

THIS volume is merely a selection from the published
correspondence of Edmund Burke ; and it is mainly
intended to illustrate the ample selection of his writings
and speeches already printed in this series. For this
purpose it has been necessary somewhat rigidly to
exclude all correspondence of a personal or literary
character. A few early letters have been printed to
illustrate a Burke who could, at least in some degree,
unbend ; and some verses have been allowed to appear,
not because they do not endanger Burke's reputation,
but because they amply demonstrate that even he was
once young. But, for the most part, it is upon his
favourite topics of Ireland, America, and the French
Revolution that these letters dwell.

It is important to emphasize how comparatively small
a selection of what might be printed this volume is.
The official edition of Burke's correspondence occupies
four large octavo volumes ; l and it is itself a collection
based upon the somewhat curious principle that what
letters had by any chance appeared elsewhere in print
should find no place there. The result is that Burke's
correspondence is, even in its printed form, scattered
among a large number of volumes. In 1827 there was
printed a collection of his letters to his friend Dr. French
Laurence, the lawyer ; 2 a further large number will

1 Correspondence of the Right Honourable Edmund
Burke . . . Edited by Earl Fitzwilliam and Sir Richard
Bourke, K.C.B. 4 vols. London, 1844.

2 The Epistolary Correspondence of the Eight Hon.
Edmund Burke and Dr. French Laurence. London, 1827.

xiv INTRODUCTION

be found in the quasi-official life by Sir James Prior.
A pamphlet on Canning's attitude to the Catholic
claims 1 prints some of Burke's correspondence with
his son upon this subject. Other letters may be found
in the lives of Lord Charlemont 2 and of the first Earl
of Minto. 3 This, it may be added, is only a portion of
the printed sources ; and it does not include the
manuscript material. Letters of Burke must appear
in the archives of some of the leading Whig families
of the time the Saviles, the Fitzwilliams, and the
Portlands. We have few of his letters to Fox, practically
none to Sheridan ; and letters from him, not printed,
have been offered for sale in booksellers' catalogues in
recent years. An ample edition of his correspondence
would be a great historical service.

For it would illustrate upon a massive scale what can
be only partially revealed by this selection. It would
prove, if proof be needed, the consistency of his princi-
ples no less than the amazing accuracy of his insight.
It would reveal how instant was his generosity and how
abiding was Ms affection. Faults, indeed. Burke had ;
and his correspondence is hardly less suggestive there
than in relation to his virtues. No one can read through
Ms private letters without a sense that he was overawed
by rank not seldom to the detriment of Ms judgement.
Particularly when he writes to emigres of high birth, he
seems to be composing on his knees. Obviously, too,
he was a man of emotions so profound that, where they

1 E. Therry, Letter to Rt. Hon. Q Vanning, 1826.

a Hardy (P.), Memoirs of the M, of the Earl of Charle-
mont, 1810.

* Countess of Minto, Life and Letters of first Lord Minto
1731-1806, 1874.

INTRODUCTION xv

were deeply touched, the rationalism that appears so
striking in his analysis of the American Revolution
deserts him completely. A good case, indeed, might be
made out for the thesis that what there is of liberalism
in Burke derives rather from the impulse of compassion
than from any logical sense of right. The conservative
is obvious all through the correspondence ; perhaps
nowhere more completely than in his almost entire
inability to detect the implications of economic dis-
harmony. Neither in the letters nor in the treatises is
there any such insight into the consequences of th
property-relation as distinguished Harrington at the
end of one revolution or Madison at the close of another.
Burke, as this correspondence amply illustrates,
accepted without question the implications of the
system within which he worked ; and it was for its
repair rather than for its reconstruction that he was
chiefly concerned.

Books on Burke are relatively few in number when
the great part he played is borne in mind, Macaulay
once thought of writing upon him, but could not do
justice to his subject * if I am to be under the necessity
of counting lines and pages '.* The classical discussion
is in the two volumes of Lord Morley, of which the
first, a purely critical study, is by all odds the best
treatment he has received. 2 There are some sound
remarks upon him in the second volume of Sir Leslie
Stephen's great History of English Thought in the

1 Correspondence of Macvey Napier, p. 466,

2 Bwke . Q Cntical Study (1867) now out of print and
scarce ; BurJce (English Men of Letters Series, 1888). It
is greatly to be hoped that the first essay will soon be
available to students.

xvi INTRODUCTION

Eighteenth Century ; and Professor John MacCunn has
written a very useful summary of his teaching. 1 Nor
should the brilliant essays of the late Mr. E. J. Payne 2
be neglected. Intended only as introductions to a select
edition of his works, they display learning and critical
acumen in a high degree. The fullest biographical
treatment is still that of Sir James Prior; 3 but it is
marred by an excessive partiality for its subject and by
a grotesque ill-arrangement.

HAROLD J. LASKL

London School of Economics and Political Science.

1 TJie Political Philosophy of Burke (London, 1908).

2 Burke's Select Works, edited by E J. Payne. 3 vols.
(Oxford. 1904). Por a very different treatment cf. my
Political Thought pom Locke to Bentham (London, 1920),
Chapter VI. See also the interesting sketch in H. N.
Brailsford, Shelley, Godwin, and their Circle (London,
1914), Chapter I.

3 Memoir of the Life and Character of the Right Hon.
Edmund Burke. Third and enlarged edition (London,
1839).

MB. EDMTTND BURKE, TO RICHARD

Dublin. January 9, 1744.
DEAB DICK,

You find me as good as my promise in sending some
more of my rhymes to trouble you ; and what I said
to you in former favour, that I am like the rest of my
brother pettifoggers, you find now to be true. What
I send you here is a day of my life, after the manner
I usually spend it. I have put it in verse for two
reasons ; the chief and principal of which is to engage
you to answer it in like manner ; and the other is
that the subject being in itself dry and barren, and, of
course, no pleasant reading, I have laid out what
ornaments I could spare on it, in the small time I have
to do any thing for your amusement. Thus far by way
of proem or preface ; proceed we now to the matter in
hand and to begin :

Soon as Aurora from the blushing skies
Bids the great ruler of the day to rise,
No longer balmy sleep my limbs detains ;
I hate its bondage and detest its chains.
Fly 1 Morpheus, fly ! and leave the foul embrace ;
Let nobler thoughts supply thy loathsome place ;
Let every dream each fancied joy give way
To the more solid comforts of the day.
See, through the lucid substance of yon glass,
Sol's radiant beams enlighten as they pass ;
Dispel each gloomy thought, each care control,
And calm the rising tumults of the soul.
See, how its rays do every thought refine,
And fire the soul to raptures half divine.
Led and inspired by such a guide, I stray

1 The son of Burke' s old schoolmaster, Abraham
Shackleton.

237 B

2 EDMUND BURKE [174=4

Through fragrant gardens and the pride of May.
Sweet month ! but oh ' what daring muse can give
Words worthy thee, and words so like to live !
While each harmonious warbler of the sky
Sends up its grateful notes to thank the high,
The mighty Ruler of the world below,
Parent of all, from whom our blessings flow.

Teach me, lark ' with thee to greatly rise,
T' exalt my soul and hit it to the skies ;
To make each worldly joy as mean appear,
Unworthy care, when heavenly joys are near.

But oh ! my friend, the muse has swelled her song,
From business has detained you quite too long.
Avails my morn's description aught to you,
Who morn and even in perfection view ?
And now the sun, with a more piercing ray,
Advises me I must no longer stay.
All dull, with mournful heavy steps I go ;
The unwilling town receives me entering slow.
Returning home, I nature's wants appease ;
Then, to the college fate your friend conveys.
But here the muse nor can, nor will, declare,
What is my work, and what my studies there
('Tis not her theme : she still delights to sing
The gently rising mount and bubbling spring I )
But oft amid the shady parks I rove,
Plunged in the deep recesses of the grove.
While, oh ! embroiled beneath the trees I lie,
Fann'd by the gales you voluntary fly,
Oh ! would some kinder genius me convey
To those fair banks where Griece's 2 waters stray,
Where the tall firs o'ershade his crystal floods,
Or hide me in the thickest gloom of woods ;
To bear me hence, far from the city's noise,
And give me all I ask, the country's joys.
Now Sol's bright beams grown fainter as he goes,
Invite the whole creation to repose ;
Each bird gives o'er its note, the thrush alone

1 Helicon and Parnassus.

2 A river that runs near Ballitore.

1744] TO RICHARD SHACKXETON

Fills the cool grove when all the rest are gone.
Harmonious bird ! daring till night to stay,
And glean the last remainder of the day.
The slowly moving hours bring on at last
The pleasing time, (how tedious was the past 1)
Which shews me Herbert ; he, since thou art gone,
My sole companion, 'midst the throngs of town.
By the foul river's side we take our way,
Where Liffey rolls her dead dogs to the sea ;
Arrived, at length, at our appointed stand,
By waves enclosed, the margin of the land,
Where once the sea with a triumphing roar,
RolTd his huge billows to a distant shore.
There swkm the dolphins, hid in waves unseen,
Where frisking lambs now crop the verdant green.
Secured by mounds of everlasting stone,
It stands for ever safe, unoverthrown.

Neptune, indignant thus to be confined,
Swells in the waves and bellows in the wind ;
Raising in heaps his ponderous wat'ry store,
Hangs like a mountain o'er the trembling shore.
Now ! now he bursts, and with a hideous sound,
That shakes the strong foundation of the ground ;
Dreadful, with complicated terrors falls,
Discharging vengeance on the hated walls 2 .
The walls, secured by well compacted stone,
Repel the monarch with a hollow groan.
'Tis here we sit, while in joint prospect rise,
The ocean, ships, and city, to our eyes.
Enchanting sight ! when beauteous Sol half way
Merges his radiant body in the sea ;
And just withdrawing from our mortal sight,
Lengthens the quivering shadow of his light.
But now inspired by what exalted muse,
What lofty song, what numbers shall I choose ?

1 Two lines, nearly obliterated in the original, are here
omitted.

* The north wall.

4 EDMUND BURKE [1744

Or how adapt my verses to the theme,

Great as the subject, equal and the same ?

Or how describe the horrors of the deep,

Lulled into peace, and loftiest waves asleep ?

Not e'en a breath moves o'er the bjoundless flood,

So calm, so peaceful, and so still it stood '

The sun withdrawn, and the clear night o'erspread

In all its starry glories above our head ;

While moon, pale empress, shines with borrowed light,

Mils the alternate throne and rules the night ;

And other worlds, descrying earth afar,

Cry, ' See, how little looks yon twinkling star 1 '

It is not mine the glorious view to sing,

These mighty wonders of the Almighty King ;

But let my soul, in still amazement lost,

From thought to thought, and maze to maze, be tost.

The advent'rous task a muse like yours requires,

That warms your pen, and fills your breast with fires.

Thus far the muse has, in a feeble lay,
Show'd how I spend the various hours of day :
The story placed in order by the sun,
Shows where my labours ended, where begun.

E. B.

MB. EDMUND BUBKE, TO RICHAED SHACKLETON
Arran Quay, November 1, 1744.

MY dear Zelim's kind epistle had not been so long
unanswered by his Mirza, but for the hurry of business
which has constantly attended me^since I received it,
so that the post slipped over unknown to me. But we
don't stand on forms and ceremonies, like other cor-
respondents. We know that it is not forgetfulness nor
neglect of one another that can make a gap in our inter-
course. The joy of receiving a letter wipes away the
impatience of waiting for it. It is so with me, and I dare
say with you too. I am in a rhyming humour ; and
I believe I can express my sentiments to you better in
verse than prose, on that head ; and so take the best
I can make in the time.

1744] TO RICHARD SHACKLETON 5

As when some cloud in the ethereal way
Darkens the sun, and robs us of the day ;
Its hated shadow grief projects around,
And spreads a gloomy horror on the ground ;
With universal cry all nature mourns,
No joys can taste until her light returns.
But when to humble prayers indulgent heaven
A blast to clear the troubled skies has given ;
Each bar removed, with a redoubled blaze
The golden sun pours forth his glorious rays ;
With dazzling beams the wide horizon shines,
Brighter than India covers in her mines ;
Mankind confesses joy with new delight,
Drown'd in the glorious ocean of the light.
So souls made one by friendship's sacred band,
Possession must by absence understand :
The joys are doubled which we miss awhile ;
Lost treasures found with greater lustre smile.

I must, my dear Zelim, beg pardon for having taken
up so much time with trifles, and promise that in the
rest of my letter I shall treat of something of more
importance ; and first to answer yours. I am of your
opinion, that those poor souls who never had the
happiness of hearing that saving name, shall in no
wise be damned. But, as you know, my dear Zelim,
there are several degrees of felicity a lower one, which
the mercy of God will suffer them to enjoy ; but not any
thing to be compared to that of those who have lived
and died in Christ. This is sincerely my belief of those ;
but I assure you that I don't think near so favourably
of those sectaries you mentioned ; many of them
breaking, as they themselves confess, for matters of
indifference, and no way concerned in the only affair
that is necessary, viz. our salvation ; and what a great
crime schism is, you can't be ignorant. This, and the
reasons in my last, and if you consider what will occur
to yourself, together with several texts, will bring you
to my way of thinking in that point. Let us endeavour
to live according to the rules of the Gospel, and He that

5 EDMUND BURKE [1744

prescribed them, I hope, will consider our endeavours to
please Him, and assist us in our designs. This, my
friend, is your advice, and how hard is it for me to
follow it 1 I am in the enemy's country the townsman
is beset on every side. It is here difficult to sit down
fco think seriously. Oh ! how happy are you who live
in the country ! I assure you, my friend, that without
the superior grace of God, I will find it very difficult to
be commonly virtuous. I don't like that part of your
Letter wherein you say, * you had the testimony of
welldoing in your breast.' Whenever such notions
rise again, endeavour to suppress them. It is one
of the subtlest stratagems the enemy of mankind uses
to delude us, that, by lulling us into a false peace, his
conquest may be the easier. We should always be in
no other than the state of a penitent, because the most
righteous of us is no better than a sinner. Pray read
the parable of the pharisee and the publican who prayed
in the temple. You see that I tell you what I think
amiss in yours why don't you use the same freedom
with mine ? Do, I beg you, because we shall be both of
us improved by it. I have a great deal to say ; but as
this is a holiday, and I am going to the college, to
evening prayers, I must write no more, but defer it till
another time. I was going to say something of natural
philosophy, something of which I now read ; and as you
have lately been studying astronomy, I beg of you to
communicate to me some of your observations, by
which we may mutually improve. -n -p ^

MR. EDOTND BURKE, TO RICHARD SHACKLETON
Dublin, January 25, 1745.

I RECEIVED your favour, the product of ill-humour ;
yet will I endeavour to answer it the best I can, though
every thing around conspires to excite in me a contrary
disposition: the melancholy gloom of the day, the
whistling winds, and the hoarse rumbling of the swollen
Liffey, with the flood which, even where I write, lays
close siege to our whole street, not Dermittms 1 anv to

1745] TO RICHARD SHACKLETCXN 7

go in or out to supply us with the necessaries of life ;
yet the joy of conversing with my friend can dispel
the cloudiness of the day, lull the winds, and stop the
rapid passage of the flood. How happy was the time
when we could mutually interchange our thoughts,
and pour the friendly sentiments of our hearts, without
obstruction, from our lips, unindebted to the pen, and
unimpeded by the post !

No one, perhaps, has seen such a flood here as we
have now. The quay wall, which before our door is
I believe about x feet high, is scarce discernible,
seemingly only as a mark 2 to show us where the bank
once bounded the Liffey. Our cellars are drowned,
not as before, for that was but a trifle to this ; for now
the water comes up to the first floor of the house,
threatening us every minute with rising a great deal
higher, the consequence of which would infallibly be
the fall of the house ; and, to add to our misfortune,
the inhabitants of the other quay, secured by their
situation, deride the poor prisoners; while, from our
doors and windows, we watch the rise and fall of the
waters as carefully as the Egyptians do the Nile* but
for different reasons. It gives me pleasure to see
nature in those great, though terrible scenes. It fills
the mind with grand ideas, and turns the soul in upon
herself. This, together with the sedentary life I lead,
forced some reflections on me which, perhaps, otherwise
would not have occurred. I considered how little man
is, yet, in his own mind, how great ! He is lord and
master of all things, yet scarce can command anything.
He is given a freedom of his wiH ; but wherefore ? Was
it but to torment and perplex him the more ? How
little avails this freedom, if the objects he is to act
upon be not as much disposed to obey as he to command !
What well-laid, and what better-executed scheme of his
is there, but what a small change of nature is sufficient
to defeat and entirely abolish ? If but one element

1 The number is torn out by the seal.
a The words e a mark ', in this sentence, are an inser-
tion ; the paper having been torn here also by the seal.

8 EDMUND BURKE [1745

happens to encroach a little on the other, what con-
fusion may it not create in his affairs ! what havoc !
what destruction ! The servant destined to his use
confines, menaces, and frequently destroys this mighty,
this feeble lord. I have a mind to go abroad to-day my
business and my pleasures require it ; but the river has
overflown its banks, and I can't stir without apparent
danger of my life. What, then, shall I do ? Shall I
rage, fret, and accuse Providence of injustice ? No ;
let me rather lament that I do not what is always right ;
what depends not on the fortuitous changes of this"
world, nor the blind sport of fortune, but remains
unalterably fixed in the mind ; untouched, though this
shattered globe should fall in pieces, and bury us. in the
ruins. Though I do lead a virtuous life, let it show me
how low I am, and of myself how weak ; how far from
an independent being ; given as a sheep into the hands
of the great Shepherd of all, on whom let us cast all our
cares, for He careth for us.

My friend will excuse this long, and, perhaps, im-
pertinent discourse, because I always like that the letter
should contain the thoughts that, at that time, employ
me. If you don't like this method, advertise me of it,
and I shall mend.

ME. EDMTJND BURKE, TO RICHABD SHACKLETON

February 3, 1746.
DEAR DICK,

I received both your favours ; and answered, in a
former letter, your question concerning examinations.
Be assured that whatever sensations you had at parting
were fully answered by mine. However, I can't call
what I then felt, and do in part feel now, directly grief ;
it was rather a kind of melting tenderness tinged with
sorrow, which took me wholly up, while I was alone, in
thinking on the company I had so lately left ; a con-
templation too delightful to let me taste anything like
grief. And why should we grieve 1 We had made the
best use of the time we were together, and omitted

1746] TO BJCHABD SHACKLETON 9

nothing in our power to make it entertaining and
improving. And now we must break off, because the
necessity of our affairs requires it ; and we still live in
hope to see and converse with one another again, on the
same footing. Our parting, if I may make such a com-
parison, is like the sensation a good man feels at the
hour of his death. He is conscious that he has used his
time to the best advantage, and now must, through the
condition of human nature, depart. He feels, indeed,
a little sorrow at quitting his friends, but it is very much
allayed by considering he shall see them all again. You
need not fear our friend Faulkner? at least, yet awhile.
Your mentioning him makes me think what motives
men have in general for esteeming indifferent things
not from their real value, but from the names that
overawe their j udgement . Had any one now overlooked
our letters, they should find five hundred faults, and
think, may be, one part entirely ridiculous. But let
us once get a reputation by our writings, or otherwise,
they shall immediately become most valuable pieces,
and all the faults be construed into beauties. Pope
says, all the advantage arising from the reputation of
wit, is the privilege of saying foolish things unnoticed ;
and it really is so, as to letters, or anything committed
to writing. But I don't think it holds good with respect
to conversation ; for I have observed, that where a man
gets a reputation for being a little witty, all shun, fear,
and hate him, and carp at and canvass his most trifling
words or actions. You must forgive me, if this letter
be heavy and dull. You know the writer is known by
his writing. Many things conspire to make me so ;
for I have been within all day, read, wrote, and ate my
dinner, which last generally most effectually damps my
spirits for a while. Now I mention my writing, I have
done some part of my poem, even so far as the invoca-
tion, which is this : how like you it ?

Ye beauteous nymphs who haunt the dusky wood,
Which hangs recumbent o'er the crystal flood,
Or risen from water, as the water fair,
'Mong the cleft rocks divide your amber hair ;
B 2

10 EDMUND BUBKE [1746

Oft, as delighted with my rural lay,
Earnest you listened all the summer's day,
Nor thought it long ; with favour hear my vow,
And with your kind assistance help me now.
And you, whose midnight dance in mystic round,
With a green circle marks the flow'ry ground,
Oh 1 aid my voice, that I may wake once more
The slumbering echo on the Mulla's shore.
Thou chief of floods, Blackwater, hoary sire !
With all thy beauties all my breast inspire,
To trace the winding channel of thy course,
And find the hidden wonders of thy source.

ME. EDMUND BUBKE, TO KICHABB SHACKLETOH
April 26, for fear I should forget 1745. 1
DEAK DICK,

I received your English manuscript, in answer to my
Arabian, which I hope you have since been able to
decipher. I protest, when I wrote it, I thought that
though it was not as good, yet it was as legible a hand
as any in the world. You see how blind we are to our
own imperfections. I shall, however, try to mend it,
and give you no just cause of complaint ^for the future.

This Pretender, who gave us so mutsh disturbance
for some time past, is at length, with his adherents,
entirely defeated, and himself (as some say) taken
prisoner. This is the most material, or rather, the only
news here. "Tis strange to see how the minds of the
people are in a few days changed. The very men who,
but a while ago, while they were alarmed by Ms progress
so heartilycursed and hated those unfortunate creatures,
are now all pity, and wish it could be terminated with-
out bloodshed. I am sure I share in the general com-
passion. 'Tis, indeed, melancholy to consider the
state of those unhappy gentlemen who engaged in this

1 It is so dated in the original MS, letter; yet it is
certain the date of the year should be 1746. The Pre-
tender did not land in Scotland until July, 1745, and the
battle of CuUoden was fought on the 16th April, 1746.

1746] TO RICHARD SHACKLETON II

affair (as for the rest they lose but their lives), who have
thrown away their lives and fortunes, and destroyed
their families for ever, in what, I believe, they thought
a just cause. My friend, you put a wrong construction
on what I called indolence in my letter. It was no more
than a simple sloth which, indeed, hindered me from
doing much good, but threw me into no ill action that
I know of, extraordinary. Neither do I think I keep
bad company. I am, however, much obliged to you
for your good advice, and if you could, without trouble,
I should be glad you'd continue it. Advice never
comes so acceptably, nor is it like to do so much good,
as from one who has our interest at heart, and which
proceeds from a desire of improving, not reproaching
us I hope I am such.

Yours,

E. BURKE.

MR. EDMUND BURKE, TO RICHARD SHAOKLBTON

Dublin, July 12, 1746.
DEAR DICK,

You may excuse, indeed, my long silence, if you
know the cause of it, since nothing but the most
dangerous illness my mother ever had, could prevent
my writing to remove the^ distrust you seem to have
expressed, in a late letter, of my friendship. In all my
life, I never found so heavy 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 ; and really I was so
low and %eak myself for some time after, that I could
not sit down to write ; but now ? as the cause is re-
moved, and my mother (thank God !) on the mending
hand, I shall be no longer silent. I can't, however,
pretend to say you shall hear often from me, till you see
me, which will be about the end of next week, when
your name-sake, 1 whom you will once more take into
1 Richard Burke, younger brother of Edmund.

12 EDMUND BURKE '[1746

your protection, may answer your questions viva voce.
Now I am upon that subject, I am surprised at what
Mr. Bayley reported about my father's quarrelling with
yours. I always heard him, at all times, when he had
occasion to mention him, do it with all the regard and
gratitude that so great care and merit deserved ; and
furthermore, I can say, that he intended to send him
back at the expiration of his quarter, as my mother told
your aunt ; and the only cause of his removal for that
time was to divert my mother, as she was beginning
to relapse into her old disorder, and not for any mis-
understanding. I am glad Sisson's company was
agreeable to you. I wish you may every day meet
friends as pleasing ; for really, after all, whatever
motives it may be founded on, ' Nil ego praetulerim
jucundo sanus amico,' as has been said a thousand times
before. I have got a good many new acquaintances, and
some odd too, whose characters may divert us when we
meet. e Quicquid agunt homines, votum, timor, ira,
voluptas, gaudia, discursus, nostrae sunt delicae.' 1
I spend three hours almost every day in the public
library, where there is a fine collection of books the
best way in the world of killing thought. As for other
studies, I am deep in metaphysics and poetry. I have
read some history. I am endeavouring to get a little
into the accounts of this, our own poor country. I'll
hear from you next post, how you spend your time, and
what.'s your present study. I have done now, and am
with compliments,

Yours, &c.
E. BURKE.

MB. EDMUND BURKE, TO RICHARD SHACKLETON
Ormond Quay, March 21, 1746-7.

YOUR last favour which I received, gave me the
greatest pleasure ; in which you mention your sending
me another, which 1 received not. In this you say,

1 This passage of Juvenal, which Burke has altered by

1746-7] TO KICHAKD SHACKLETON 13

you answered my queries : I beg you will answer them
in your next. I think you take no bad method to
fix the substance of your letter in my memory ; by
making some parts of it so dark, as to oblige me to read
it over three or four times ; and in this too, you do
me a piece of service, for possibly, were it quite clear,
I might pass over it without due consideration ; and
by that means lose abundance of pleasure and advantage
that I might gain from a more attentive perusal. Such
as, to mention one I don't yet very well understand ;
' it was imported hither from the country of Job,
alias, the land of Uz.' To mention more would be to
show my own stupidity : though I have now come to
the understanding of all the rest. You ask me if I
read ? I deferred answering this question, till I could
say I did ; which I can almost do, for this day I have
shook off idleness and begun to buckle to. I wish
I could have said this to you, with truth, a month
ago. It would have been of great advantage to me.
My time was otherwise employed. Poetry, Sir, nothing
but poetry, could go down with me ; though I have
read more than, wrote. So you see I am far gone in
the poetical madness, which I can hardly master, as
indeed, all my studies have rather proceeded from
sallies of passion, than from the preference of sound
reason ; and like the nature of all other natural appe-
tites, have been very violent for a season, and very
soon" cooled, and quite absorbed in the succeeding.
I have often thought it a humorous consideration to
observe, and sum up, all the madness of this kind
I have fallen into, this two years past. First I was
greatly taken with natural philosophy ; which, while
I should have given my mind to logic, employ6d me
incessantly. This I call my furor mathematicu.s. But
this worked off, as soon as I began to read it in the
college ; as men, by repletion, cast off their stomachs
all they have eaten. Then I turned back to logic and

substituting nostrae sunt deliciae, for nostri est farrago
l%idti, is in the 1st Satire, v. 86.

U EDMUND BURKE [1746-7

metaphysics. Here I remained a good while, and with
much pleasure, and this was my furor logicus ; a disease
very common in the days of ignorance, and very un-
common in these enlightened times. Next succeeded
the furor historicus, which also had its day, but is now
no more ; being entirely absorbed in ike furor poeticus,
which (as skilful physicians assure me), is as difficultly
cured as a disease very nearly akin to it ; namely, the
itch. Nay, the Hippocrates of poets says so expressly :
e tenet insanabile multos scribendi cacosthes.' [Lib. i.

r T Dr. pa. 12.] Bat doctors differ, and I don't despair
cure. Now, to what you shall read ; which shall
be, non juveni naris oltesae, but curvatae. I must
confess I would recommend Sallust, rather than Tully's
epistles ; which I think are not so extremely valuable.
Besides, Sallust is indisputably one of the best historians
among the Romans ; both for the purity of his language,
and elegance of his style. He has, I think, a fine, easy,
and diversified narrative, mixed with reflections, moral
and political, neither very trite and obvious, nor out
of the way and abstract ; which is, I think, the true
beauty of historical observation. Neither should I pass
by his beautiful painting of characters. In short, he
is an author that, on all accounts, I would recommend
to you. As for Terence and Plautus, what I fancy you
will chiefly get by them, as to the language, is some
insight into the common manner of speech used by the
Romans. One excels in the justness of his pieces, the
other in the humour. I think a play in each will be
sufficient. I would recommend to you Tully's orations,
excellent indeed. You will pardon, if I have been
too dogmatical ; but remember that what I say is
always with this restriction; that it is submitted to
your better judgement. Dunkin's Boeotia is, I think,
to be reckoned among the bad pieces ; and is, in my
opinion, the worst thing I ever saw of his.

1751] TO RICHAKD SHACKLETON 15

ME. EDMUND BURKE, TO RICHABD SHACKLETON

Monmouth, August 31, 1751. l
DEAR SHACKLETON,

If having very little to say was sufficient excuse
for my silence, I fear I should continue it much longer.
The truth is, I have been so long an invalid and a
traveller (a sort of people to whom great allowances
must be made), that I was always either too weak,
or too much hurried, to set about anything. But
though I omitted to write, I have not forgot how
much, on every account, I am indebted to your friend-
ship. I don't think it necessary, when a man writes
to his friend, that he should make his letter a gazette
for news ; or puzzle himself for something deep and
philosophical ; or is obliged, under penalties and pains,
to be witty. It is enough, in my opinion, to give our
friend some proof that we still keep him in our memory,
and receive the same from him ; and I assure you
I think, in this plain intercourse of honest sentiments,
there is more satisfaction and more merit too, than in
any affected compliments, let them be ever so fine,
which none can admire, but those who don ? t know
how they are produced, and on what occasions.

I hope your little family is well; I believe you
are so good a husband and father, as to talk of it
with pleasure, and that you think me so much your
friend as to hear it with satisfaction ; though I am
no father, nor ever was, except of some metaphorical
children, which were extremely short-lived, and whilst
they lived (as you know) too scandalous to be owned.
I hope my present studies may be attended with more
success ; at least, I have this comfort ; that though
a middling poet cannot be endured, there is some quarter

1 Burke entered his name at the Middle Temple in
April, 1747, and appears to have gone to London to keep
law terms in 1750. During the time required for this
purpose, he passed the vacations and any intervals of
leisure, in travelling about England, generally in company
with his friend and distant relative, Mr. William Burke.

16 EDMUND BURKE [1751

for a middling lawyer. I read as much as I can (which
is, however, but a little), and am but just beginning to
know something of what I am about ; which, till very
lately, I did not. This study causes no difficulty to
those who already understand it, and to those who
never will understand it ; and for all between those
extremes, God knows they have a hard task of it.
So much is certain, though the success is precarious ;
bui; that we must leave to Providence. I am now at
Momnouth, where I live very satisfactorily, am well,
and know, by experience of the contrary, what a
blessing that is. I wish you may not labour too
much for your constitution ; which now, at least,
you are obliged to take care of. My most sincere
respects to your father, mother, spouse, aunt, and
sister ; and believe me your very affectionate friend
and servant,

EDM. BTOKE.

Direct to me at Mr. Hipkis's, Ironmonger, in Mon-
mouth ; my service to Hobbs : Dennis has acquainted
me of his good intentions towards me.

MB. EDMXTKD BURKE, TO RccHARb SHACKLETON

Turlaine* September 28, 1752.
MY I>EAB FBIENB,

I have several letters to write this day, and must
begin every one of them with an apology for not
having written before. I think I have greater occasion
to apologize to you than to any one, because I love
you better, and have used you much worse ; but
I know that though my fault should require a great
deal to be said, your good nature will dispense with it.
You will believe I could not forget you j and if you
do, my business is done, for that is all, in short, I can
say in my defence. I have now before me your letter,
which I received about this time last year, in Mon-
mouth. I now sit down to answer it at Turlaine, in
Wilts. You have compared me, for my rambling

1752] TO RICHARD SHACKLBTON 17

disposition, to the sun. As the simile was about the
sun, it was probably a compliment ; if so, I thank you
for it, If it was rather a reproof, why, I thank you
too ; it may possibly do me more good. But, sin-
cerely, I can't help finding a likeness myself, for they
say the sun sends down much the same influences
whenever he comes into the same signs. Now I am
influenced to shake off my laziness and write* to you
at the same time of the year, and from the same west
country, I wrote my last in. 'Tis true, I am not
directly at the same place ; but you know, to those
who are at a vast distance, things may be a great way
asunder, and yet seem near. But not to run this
allusion quite out of breath, since I had your letter,
I have often shifted the scene. I spent part of the
winter, that is the terni-time, in London, and part in
Croydon, in Surrey. About the beginning of summer,
finding myself attacked with my old complaints,
I went once more to Bristol, and found the same
benefit. I thank God for it, and wish I had grace to
take, in its full extent, your very friendly and rational
advice. I don't know whether I said much to you of
our adventures at Monmouth ; they would almost
compose a novel, and that of a more curious and
entertaining kind, than some of those we are enter-
tained with from the press. I assure you, we found
discourse for that town and the adjacent country
whilst we stayed there, and even when we left it.
Whilst we stayed, they amused themselves with
guessing the reason that would induce us to come
amongst them ; and when we left them, they were
no less employed to discover why we went away
without effecting those purposes they planned for us.
The most innocent scheme they guessed was that of
fortune-hunting; and when they saw us quit the
town without wives, then the lower sort sagaciously
judged us spies to the French king. You will wonder
that persons of no great figure should cause so much
talk ; but in a town very little frequented by strangers,
with very little business to employ their bodies, and

18 EDMUND BURKE [1752

less speculation to take up their minds, the least thing
sets them in motion, and supplies matter for their
chat. What is much more odd is, that here, my
companion 1 and I puzzle them as much as we did
at Monmouth ; for this is a place of very great trade
in making of fine cloths, in which they employ a vast
number of hands. The first conjecture which they
made was that we were authors, for they could not
fancy how any other sort of people could spend so
much of their time at books ; but finding that we
received from time to time a good many letters, they
conclude us merchants ; and so, from inference to
inference, they at last began to apprehend that we
were spies, from Spain, on their trade. Our littb
curiosity, perhaps, cleared us of that imputation ;
but still the whole appears very mysterious, and our
good old woman cries, ' I believe that you be gentle-
toen, but I ask no questions ; ' and then praises herself
for her great caution and secrecy. What makes the
thing still better, about the same time we came hither
arrived a little parson, equally a stranger ; but he
spent a good part of his hours in shooting and other
country amusements got drunk at night, got drunk
in the morning, and became intimate with everybody
in the village. He surprised nobody : no questions
were asked about him, because he lived like the rest
of the world : but that two men should come into a
strange country, and partake of none of the country
diversions, seek no acquaintance, and live entirely
recluse, is something so inexplicable as to puzzle the
wisest heads, even that of the parish clerk himself.
We are, however, as satisfactorily fixed as we can
wish. We live in a pretty large house, which we have
almost to ourselves. Our landlady has been once
a rich woman, but happening to go down in the world
on the accession of the Hanover family to the throne,
she attributes all her misfortunes to that event. It
is the pleasantest thing in the world to hear the good
folks' opinion of state affairs. In short, they are
1 Mr. William Burke.

1752] TO RICHAKD SHACKLETON 19

hearty Jacobites ; that is, a sort of people, whose
politics consist in wishing that right may take place ;
and their religion, in heartily hating Presbyterians.
Our family consist of the old gentlewoman, an old
woman, her sister, and a young fellow, her son, who
is a great scholard, and knows what is what, and
therefore much esteemed by some of the neighbouring
squires, I have troubled you, perhaps, with too many
trifling particulars, but they may possibly give you
a better idea of our people than a more laboured
description. As for this country, though the soil is
generally poor in our part of it, it is extremely pleasant,
sweetly diversified with hills and woods intermixed
with villages. We have one point of view from which
we can reckon six steeples. The country is very
populous, and it is the only one I ever saw where
children are really an advantage to their parents, for
I have seen little girls of six or seven years old at the
wheel, and I am told that they can earn three shillings
and sixpence a week each, which is more than their
keeping can amount to, though I hear them say that
trade is decaying amongst them, and that formerly
they had greatsr prices. I had a letter from Dennis
some time since. He mentions nothing of his affairs,
but seemed angry with me for my long silence. I wrote
Mm an answer to excuse myself. I wish him very
well, and would gladly know how the world goes with
him. As for you, I suppose you have long since been
a second time a father. I wish most sincerely all
manner of happiness, both to the children and the
father and mother. Pray rainember me in the best
manner to her that I have last mentioned. Assure
your father and mother that I have the most grateful
and affectionate remembrance of them, and give my
hearty services to all friends. Believe me, with great
sincerity, Dear Dick,

Your friend and servant,
EDM. BURKE.

20 EDMUND BUKKE [1757

MB. EDMUND BTJBKE, TO RICHAED SHACKLETON

Batter sea, August 10, 1757.
DEAR SHACKLETOST,

If you will not pardon my long silence without an
apology, I am satisfied that no apology I can make
will induce you to pardon it. I have broken all rules ;
I have neglected all decorums ; everything, except
that I have never forgot a friend whose good head
and heart have made me esteem and love him ; and
whose services to me have caused obligations that are
never to be broken. What appearance there may have
been of neglect* arose from my manner of life :
chequered with various designs ; sometimes in London,
sometimes in remote parts of the country ; sometimes
in France, and shortly, please Ood, to be in America. 1
During that time, however, of my silence, my inquiries
about you have been warm and frequent, and I had
the pleasure (you will, I hope, believe it a sincere one)
of hearing that you are not deficient in success in the
world, nor in domestic satisfaction. I do not know of
any djsappointment that vexed me so much, as having
missed seeing you when you were in London. Your
letter came to Mr. Burke's, in Sergeant's Inn, while
I was in the country, and they did not forward it
to me, expecting me in town every day. But when
I arrived and found your letter, I found, at the same
time, that you were returned to Ireland. Oppor-
tunities of that kind happen so seldom, and are of
such value, that it is very mortifying to miss them.
This letter is accompanied by a little performance of

1 Burke was not called to the bar ; nor does it appear on
what account he declined the profession for which he was
intended, and for the practice of which he had, to a certain
degree, prepared himself. He thought of removing to
America, two or three years previous to the date of this
letter to Shackleton; but gave up the project at that
period, on its being objected to by Ms father. It is said
he was offered some considerable employment in the
state of 3STew York.

1757] TO KICHARD SHACKLETON 21

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. Will you accept it as
a sort of offering in atonement for my former delinquen-
cies ? x If I would not have you think that I have
forgot you, so neither would I have your father, to-
whom I am under obligations that I neither can nor
wish to shake off. I am really concerned for the
welfare of you all, and for the credit of the school
where I received the education that, if I am anything,
has made me so. I hear with great satisfaction the
account of Kearney's being chosen a fellow in our
college. My brother Dick is now with me, and joins
me very sincerely in the sentiments I have for you,
your father, and your mother ; and, shall I add, for
Mrs. Shackleton ? for I will not suppose myself a
stranger to one who is so nearly related to you. I am
now a married man myself ; and therefore claim some
respect from the married fraternity. 2 At least, for
your own sake, you will not pretend to consider me
as the worse man. I do not know whether it ever
falls in your way to see Dr. Sleigh : he was not at
school in my time, but I knew him in London, and
I have known few more ingenious and valuable men.
You see, my dear Shackleton, that I write you a
rambling letter, without any connexion, just as the
matters come into my head ; but whatever I write,
or in whatever way, believe me it is dictated by the
sincerest regard to you, from him who is your truly
affectionate and obliged friend,

EDM. BUBKE.

1 The work to which Burke here alludes, is Ms Philoso-
phical Inquiry into the Ongin of our Ideas of the Sublime
and Beautify}, first published -in 1756. His Vindication of
Natural Society appeared in the same year.

2 Early in this year (1757), Burke married Miss Jane
Mary Nugent, daughter of Dr. Christopher Nugent, an
eminent physician then residing at Bath.

22 EDMUND BURKE [1763

EDMUND BTJBKE, ESQ., TO THE BIGHT HON. WILLIAM
GEBABD HAMILTON

March, 1763.
DEAB SIB,

I am now on the point of acquiring, through your
friendship, an establishment, 1 which I am sensible is
as much above my merits as, in any other channel, it
may be above my reasonable expectations. I should
think myself inexcusable in receiving this pension, and
loading your interest with so heavy a charge, without
apprizing you of those conditions on which, alone,
I am able to take it ; because, when I have taken it,
I ought no longer to consider myself as possessed of
my former freedom and independence.

I have often wished to explain myself fully to you
on this point. It is against my general notions to
trust to writing, where it is in one's power to confer
otherwise. But neither do you hear, nor do I speak,
on this subject, with the same ease with which we
converse on others. This is but natural ; and I have
therefore chosen this method, as less liable to mis-
understanding and dispute ; and hope you will be so
indulgent, as to hear me with coolness and attention.

You may recollect, 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. I informed you
of this, and you acquiesced in it. You are now so
generous ^and it is but strict justice to allow, that
upon all occasions you have been so), to offer to free
me from this burden. But, in fact, though I am
extremely desirous of deferring the accomplishment,
I have no notion of entirely suppressing that work ;

1 The establishment to which Burke here alludes, was
a pension of 300 per annum, from the Irish Treasury ;
granted in this year by Lord Halifax, then lord lieutenant
of Ireland, upon the application of his Excellency's secre-
tary, Hamilton, and through the influence of Colonel
Cunninghame and the Primate Stone.

1763] TO WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON 23

and this upon two principles, not solely confined to
that work, but which extend much farther, and indeed
to the plan of my whole life.

Whatever advantages I have acquired, and even
that advantage which I must reckon as the greatest
and most pleasing of them, have been owing to some
small degree of literary reputation. It will be hard
to persuade me that any further services which your
kindness may propose for me, or any in which my
friends may wish to co-operate with you, will not be
greatly facilitated by doing something to cultivate
and keep alive the same reputation. I am fully
sensible, that this reputation may be at least as much
hazarded, as forwarded by new publications. But
because a certain oblivion is the consequence, to writers
of my inferior class, of an entire neglect of publication,
I consider it such a risk as sometimes must be run.
For this purpose, some short time, at convenient
intervals, and especially at the dead time of the year,
will be requisite to study and consult proper books.
These times, as you very well know, cannot be easily
defined ; nor indeed is it necessary they should. The
matter may be very easily settled by a good under-
standing between ourselves ; and by a discreet liberty,
which I think you would not wish to restrain, nor
I to abuse. I am not so unreasonable, nor absurd
enough, to think I have any title to so considerable
a share in your interest as I have had, and hope still to
have, without any or but an insignificant return on
my side ; especially as I am conscious that my best
and most continued endeavours are of no very great
value. I know that your business ought, on all
occasions, to have the preference ; to be the first and
the last, and, indeed, in all respects, the main concern.
All I contend for is, that I may not be considered as
absolutely excluded from all ftther thoughts, in their
proper time and due subordination ; the fixing the
times for them, to be left entirely to yourself.

I do not remember that, hitherto, any pursuit has
been stopped, or any plan left defective, through my

24 EDMUND BUEKE [1763

inattention, or through my attention to other matters ;
and I protest to God, I have applied to whatever you
have thought proper to set me, with a vigour and
alacrity, and even an eagerness, that I never felt in
any affair of my own whatsoever. If you have not
observed this* you have not, I think, observed with
your usual sagacity. But if you have observed it, and
attributed it to an interested design, which will cease
when its end is in any degree answered, my mind
bears me witness that you do not do me justice.
I act almost always from my present impulse, and
with little scheme or design ; and perhaps, generally,
with too little. If you think what I have proposed
unreasonable, my request is that you will, which you
may very easily do, get my Lord Halifax to postpone
the pension, and afterwards to drop it. We shall go
on as before, until some other more satisfactory
matter occurs. For I should ill brook an accusation,
either direct or implied, that I had through your
friendship acquired a considerable establishment, and
afterwards neglected to make any fair return in my
power. The thought of this has given me great pain ;
and I would not be easy without coming to some
explanation upon it. In the light I consider things,
it can create no great difficulty ; but it may possibly,
to you, appear otherwise. Let this be how it will,
I can never forget the obligations the very many and
great obligations which I have already had to "you ;
and which, in any situation, will always give you
a right to call on me for anything within my compass.
If I do not often acknowledge my sense of them, it is
because I know you are not very fond of professions,
nor am I very clever at making them. You will take
in good part this liberty; which, sincerely, is not
made for the purpose of exercising my pen imper-
tinently. Two words from you would settle the point,
one way or another.

I am y with the utmost truth, ever yours,
EDM. BURKE.

1763] TO WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON 25

BURKE, ESQ., TO THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM

GERARD HAMILTON*
DEAR SIR,

Your letter, which I received about four o'clock
yesterday, seemed not to have been written with an
intention of being answered. However, on considering
the matter this morning, I thought it respectful to
you, and, in a manner, necessary to myself, to say
something to those heavy charges which you have
made against me in our last conversations ; and which
with a polite acrimony in the expression, you have
thought proper to repeat in your letter.

I should, indeed, be extremely unhappy, if I felt
any consciousness at all of that unkindness, of which
you have so lively a sense. In the six years during
which I have had the honour of being connected with
you, I do not know that I have given you one just
occasion of complaint ; and if all things have not
succeeded every way to your wishes, I may appeal to
your own equity and candour, whether the failure was
owing to any thing wrong in my advice, or inattention
in my conduct ; I can honestly affirm, and your heart
will not contradict me, that in all cases I preferred
your interest to my own, I made you, and not myself,
the first object in every deliberation. I studied your
advancement, your fortune, and your reputation in
everything, with zeal and earnestness ; and sometimes
with an anxiety, which has made many of my hours
miserable. Nobody could be more ready, than I was,
to acknowledge the obligations I had to y~ou ; and if
I thought, as in some instances I did, and do still
think, I had cause of dissatisfaction, I never expressed
it to others, or made yourself uneasy about them,
I acted, in every respect, with a fidelity which, I trust,
cannot be impeached. If there be any part of my
conduct in life, upon which I can look with entire
satisfaction, it is my behaviour with regard to you.

So far as to the past : with regard to the present,

1 Letter tandatedin the original, but obviously of this time.

26 EDMUND BUEKE [1763

what is that unkindness and misbehaviour of which
you complain ? My heart is full of friendship to
you ; and is there a single point which the best and
most intelligent men have fixed, as a proof of friendship
and gratitude, in which I have been deficient, or in
which I threaten a failure ? What you blame is only
this ; that I will not consent to bind myself to you,
for no less a term than my whole life, in a sort of
domestic situation, for a consideration to be taken out
of your private fortune ; that is, to circumscribe my
hopes, to give up even the possibility of liberty, and
absolutely to annihilate myself for ever, I beseech
you, is the demand, or the refusal, the act of unkind-
ness ? If ever such a test of friendship was proposed, in
any instance, to any man living, I admit that my con-
duct has been unkind ; and, if you please, ungrateful.
If I had accepted your kind offers, and afterwards
refused to abide by the condition you annex to them,
you then would have had a good right to tax me with
unkindness. But what have I done, at the end of
a very long, however I confess unprofitable, service,
but to prefer my own liberty to the offers of advantage
you are pleased to make me ; and, at the same time,
to tender you the continuance of those services (upon
which, partiality alone induces you to set any value)
in the most disinterested manner, as far as I can do
it, consistent with that freedom to which, for a long
time, I have determined to sacrifice every considera-
tion; and wMch I never gave you the slightest
assurance tjhat I had any intention to surrender ;
whatever my private resolves may have been in case
an event had happened, which (so far as concerns
myself) I rejoice never to have taken place ? You are
kind enough to say, that you looked upon my friend-
ship as valuable; but hint that it has not been
lasting. I really do not know when, and by what
act, I broke it off. I should be wicked and mad to do
it ; unless you call that a lasting friendship, which all
mankind would call a settled servitude, and which no
ingenuity can distinguish from it. Once more, put

1763] TO WILLIAM GERAKD HAMILTON 27

yourself in my situation, and judge for me. If I have
spoken too strongly, you 'will be so good as to pardon
a man on his defence, in one of the nicest questions to
a mind that has any feeling. I meant to speak fully,
not to offend. I am not used to defend my conduct ;
nor do I intend, for the future, to fall into so bad
a habit. I have been warmed to it by the imputation
you threw on me ; as if I deserted you on account
solely of your want of success. On this, however,
I shall say nothing, because perhaps I should grow
still warmer ; and I would not drop one loose word
which might mark the least disrespect, and hurt
a friendship which has been, and I flatter myself
will be, a satisfaction and an honour to me. I beseech
you that you will judge of me with a little impartiality
and temper. I hope I have said nothing in our last
interview which could urge you to the passion you
speak of. If anything fell which was strong in the
expression, I believe it was from you, and not from me,
and it is right that I should bear more than I then
heard. I said nothing, but what I took the liberty
of mentioning to you a year ago, in Dublin : I gave
you no reason to think I had made any change in my
resolution. We, notwithstanding, have ever since,
until within these few days, proceeded as usual.
Permit me to do so again. No man living can have
a higher veneration than I have, for your abilities ;
or can set a higher value on your friendship, as a great
private satisfaction, and a very honourable distinction.
I am much obliged to you for the favour you intend
me, in sending to me in three or four days (if you do
not send sooner) ; when you have had time to con-
sider this matter coolly, I will again call at your door,
and hope to be admitted ; I beg it, and entreat it.
At the same time do justice to the single motive which
I have for desiring this favour, and desiring it in this
manner. I have not wrote all this tiresome matter,
in hopes of bringing on an altercation in writing, which
you are so good to me as to decline personally ; and
which, in either way, I am most solicitous to shun.

28 EDMUND BURKE [1763

What I say is, on reviewing it, little more than I have
laid before you in another manner. It certainly
requires no answer. I ask pardon for my prolixity,
which my anxiety to stand well in your opinion has
caused.

I am, with great truth,
Your most affectionate and most obliged
humble Servant,

EDM. BTJRKE.

EDMUND BTTRKE, ESQ., TO JOHN HELY

HuTCHISrSON, ESQ. 1

DEAR SIB,

It is so necessary for me to apologize for my long
silence, and I am so unable to satisfy even my own
ideas with any apology I can make, that I have twenty
times begun to write, and as often desisted from my
undertaking. The truth is, a certain awkwardness,
arising from some late events, has added a good deal
to my difficulties on this occasion. To write upon mere
matters of indifference, when the very turning of my
thoughts towards you filled my mind with those that
were very interesting, would have given my letter an
air of coldness and constraint very foreign from my
natural manner, and very unlike the style in which
I should always wish to converse with you. On the
other hand, if my letter were to go impressed with the
genuine feeling of my heart when it was full of resent-
ment and of resentment which had for its most
just object one with whom I suppose you live in
confidence and friendship, it might have had an
appearance of disrespect ; an appearance as contrary
to the real sense I have of the honour you do me by
your friendship, as any air of reserve would be to that
openness and candour, which, I suppose, first recom-
mended me to your regard, and which, I am sure, can

1 Subsequently provost of Trinity College, Dublin, and
a privy-councillor in Ireland. The letter is not dated, but
is evidently of this period.

1763] TO JOHN HELY HUTCHINSON 29

alone make me worthy the continuance of it. On
some deliberation, I think the safer course is to speak
my mind freely; for, as Mr. Hamilton's calumnies
(circulated by agents worthy of him) made it necessary
for me to open myself to others, it might seem some
sort of distrust of your equity, or my own innocence,
if I held back from you, who know both the parties,
and do not want sagacity to look into their true
characters. I do not expect that you should honour
me with an answer to this part of my letter, because
a neutrality is all I can in reason expect ; and, on
this subject, I am perhaps less reasonable than I wish
to be thought upon others ; nothing less than whole
approbation being sufficient to content me, and I can
construe silence into what I please.

You are already apprized, by what Mr. H. has
himself caused to be reported, that he has attempted
to make a property a piece of household goods of
me, an attempt, in my poor opinion, as contrary to
discretion as it is to justice ; for he would fain have
had a slave,, which, as it is a being of no dignity, so it
can be of very little real utility to its owner ; and he
refused to have a f aithf ul friend, which is a creature
of some rank, and (in whatever subject) no trivial or
useless acquisition. But in this he is to be excused ;
for with as sharp and apprehensive parts, in many
respects, as any man living, he never in reality did
comprehend, even in theory, what friendship or affec-
tion was ; being, as far as I was capable of observing,
totally destitute of either friendship or enmity, but
rather inclined to respect those who treat him ill. In
spite of some knowledge and feeling of this part of his
character, but actuated by a sense of what is owing to
close connexion (upon whatsoever principles it might
have been entered into), how faithful, how attached,
and how zealous I have been to him you were yourself,
in part, a witness ; and though you could be so only
in part, yet this was enough, I flatter myself, to let
you see that I deserved to be considered in another
manner than as one of Mr. H.'s cattle, or as a piece of

30 EDMUND BUBKE [1763

his household stuff. Six of the best years of my life
he took me from every pursuit of literary reputation,
or of improvement of my fortune. In that time he
made Ms own fortune (a very great one), and he has
also taken to himself the very little one which / had
made. In all this time, you may easily conceive how
much I felt at seeing myself left behind by almost all
my contemporaries. There never was a season more
favourable for any man who chose to enter into the
career of public life ; and I think I am not guilty of
ostentation, in supposing my own moral character,
and my industry, my friends and connexions, when
Mr, H. first sought my acquaintance, were not at all
inferior to those of several whose fortune is, at this
day, upon a very different footing from mine.

I suppose that, by this, my friend Mr. Ridge Jbas
informed you of the nature of the agreement which
originally subsisted between that gentleman and me.
He has, I suppose, let you into the manner in which
it was fulfilled upon Mr. Hamilton's side how that
gentleman shifted and shuffled with me, in order to
keep me 'in a state of perpetual dependence; never
made me an offer of indemnity for all his breaches of
promise, nor even an apology, until he imagined it was
probable that others were inclined to show me more
attention than he did ; and then, having presumed to
put a test to me which no man, not born in Africa, ever
thought of taking, on my refusal, broke off all con-
nexion with me in the most insolent manner He,
indeed, entered into two several negotiations after-
wards ; but both poisoned, in their first principles, by
the same spirit of injustice with which he set out, in his
dealing towards me. I, therefore, could never give
way to Ms proposals. The whole ended by Ms possess-
ing himself of that small reward for my services,
which, I since find, he had a very small share in pro-
curing for me. Alter, or, indeed, rather during his
negotiations, he endeavoured to stain my character
and injure my future fortune by every calumny his
malice could suggest. This is the sum of my con-

1763] TO JOHN HBLY HUTCHINSON 31

nexion with Mr. Hamilton. However, I am much
obliged to Mm for having forcibly driven me from that
imprisonment with him, from which, otherwise, I might
never have had spirit enough to have delivered myself.
This I thought it necessary to say to you, on the
subject of a man with whom you still live in friendship,
and with whom I have had, unfortunately, so close
a connexion. You cannot think that, in using this
freedom, I mean to deviate in the slightest degree
from the real respect I ever entertained for your
character, or from the gratitude I ought to feel for
your obliging behaviour to me whilst I was in Ireland.
Nobody has spoken, at all times, and in all companies,
with more justice to the importance you may be of
to any government, from your talents and your
experience in business ; and though, from my situation
in life, my opinion must be of very- little consequence
to your interest, it will speak for the fairness of my
intentions with regard to you.

EDMUND BTTEKE, ESQ., TO J. MONCK MASON, Esq. 1

1765.
MY DEAR MASON,

I am hardly able to tell you how much satisfaction
I had in your letter. Your approbation of my conduct
makes me believe much the better of both you and
of myself and, I assure you, that that approbation
came to me very seasonably. Such proofs of a warm,
sincere, and disinterested friendship, were not wholly
unnecessary to my support, at a time when I experi-
enced such bitter effects of the perfidy and ingratitude
of other much longer and much, closer connexions.
The way in which you take up my affairs, binds me to
you in a manner I cannot express ; for, to tell you
the truth, I never can (knowing, as I do, the principles
upon which I always endeavour to act) submit to any
sort of compromise of my character ; and I shall never,
therefore, look upon those who, after hearing the

1 Ancestor of the Earls of Rathdowne, and at this time
in the barrack office in Dublin.

32 EDMUND BURKE [1765

whole story, do not think me perfectly in the right,
and do not consider Hamilton as an infamous scoundrel,
to be in the smallest degree my friends, or even to be
persons for whom I am bound to have the slightest
esteem, as fair or just estimators of the characters and
conduct of men. Situated as I am, and feeling as
I do, I should be just as well pleased that they totally
condemned me, as that they should say that there
were faults on both sides, or that it was a disputable
case, as I hear is (I cannot forbear saying) the affected
language of some persons. Having let you into this,
perhaps, weak part of my character, I must let you
into another, which is, I confess, full as weak, and
more blameable ; that is, some degree of mortification,
which I cannot avoid feeling, at the letters I receive,
almost daily, and from several bands, from Dublin,
giving me an account of a violent outcry of ingratitude
which is there raised against me. If the absurdity of
an accusation were a sufficient antidote against the
poison of it, this would, I suppose, be the most innocent
charge in the world ; but if its absurdity weakens the
force of it to the conviction of others, it adds to my
feeling of it, when I reflect that there is any person,
who Has ever seen my face, that can listen to such
a calumny. H,'s emissaries do more for him than he
has ever attempted to do for himself. He charges me
with receiving that pension during the king's pleasure
(in getting me which he had the least share of four
who were engaged in it), not as a favour, but as the
consideration of a bargain and sale of my liberty and
existence. It cannot be at once a voluntary benefit
claiming gratitude, and a mercenary consideration
exacting service. They may, if they are contented to
speak a consistent falsehood, accuse me of breach of
faith ; but they can never say, without nonsense, as
well as injustice, that I am ungrateful, until they can
prove that some favour was intended to me. In regard
to tlxeir own understanding, they will be so gracious
as to drop one or the other of the charges. In modesty
they ought to drop both of them ; unless serving their

1765] TO J. MONCK MASON 33

friend -with six of the best years of my life, whilst he
acquired at their expense a ministerial fortune ; and
then, after giving him my labour, giving him also
a pension of 300 a year : unless these be thought as
great faults to him, as perhaps they were toward the
pubhc ; and unless- those delicate friends of his do not
think their late grateful, sincere, disinterested secretary
has got enough on their establishment. You cannot
avoid remarking, my dear Mason, and I hope not
without some indignation, the unparalleled singularity
of my situation. Was ever a man, before me, expected
to enter into formal, direct, undisguised slavery ?
Did ever man before him confess an attempt to decoy
a man into such an illegal contract, not to say anything
of the impudence of regularly pleading it ? If such an
attempt be wicked and unlawful (and I am sure no
one ever doubted it), I have only to confess his charge,
and to admit myself his dupe, to make him pass, on
his own showing, for the most consummate villain
that ever lived. The only difference between us is,
not whether he is not a rogue, for he not only admits
but pleads the facts that demonstrate him to be so,
but only whether I was such a fool as to sell myself
absolutely, for a consideration which, so far from being
adequate, if any such could be adequate, is not even
so much as certain. Not to value myself as a gentle-
man, a freeman, a man of education, and one pre-
tending to literature, is there any situation in life so
low, or even so criminal, that can subject a man to the
possibility of such an engagement ? Would you dare
attempt to bind your footman to such terms ? Will
the law suffer a felon, sent to the plantations, to bind
himself for his life, and to renounce all possibility
either of elevation or quiet ? And am I to defend
myself for not doing what no man is suffered to do,
and what it would be criminal in any man to submit
to ? You will excuse me for this heat, which, wiU, in
spite of one, attend and injure a just cause ; whilst
common judgements look upon coolness as a proof of
innocence, though it never fails to go along with guilt

237

34 EDMUND BURKE [1765

and ability. But this is the real state of the affair.
Hamilton, indeed, I hear has the impudence to pretend
that my leaving him and going to Mr. T. is the cause
of our rupture. This is, I assure you, an abominable
falsehood. I never had more than a very slight
acquaintance with Mr. T. till long after our rupture.
O'Hara, through whom a part of the negotiation
passed, will let you see that our rupture had no sort
of relation to him. But Ridge will explain this point
to you at large. You will show this as much as you
like to any of our common friends., meaning that
Hamilton should know in what a manner I speak of
him on all occasions.

You are, my dear Mason, by your Bedford con-
nexion, involved in the support of Lord W.'s 1 Govern-
ment (and I could heartily wish that your task were
less difficult) ; with an unsupported and beggared
Lord Lieutenant, attended with officers, to do business
at a doubtful time, the best of them with middling
ability, and no experience. My Lord Lieutenant
himself is a genteel man, and of excellent natural
sense, as is universally said. I wish it may turn out
for your advantage, and that the barrack-board may
be, not a bench, but a step of the stairs. You know,
I suppose, that Hamilton endeavoured by his con-
nexion with the Thynnes, to intrude into that family ;
and wanted to stipulate, for a month or six weeks'
service, to get for a cousin of his a deanery; but
I imagine they hear on all hands , . . 2

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO HENRY FLOOD, ESQ.

May 18, 1765.
MY DEAE FLOOD,

I thank you for your very kind and most obliging
letter. You are a person whose good offices are not
snares, and to whom one may venture to be obliged,

1 Lord Weymouth; appointed lord lieutenant of
Ireland in May 1765.

2 The draft from which this is taken is incomplete.

3 Mr. Henry Mood, at this time a member of the Irish

1765] TO HENRY FLOOD 35

without danger to Ms honour. As I depend upon your
sincerity, so I shall 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,
with a proper attention to yourself, a point which
I shall always very tenderly consider in any applica-
tions I make to my friends.

It is very true that there is an eternal rupture
between me and Hamilton, which was, on my side,
neither sought nor provoked. For though his conduct
in public affairs has been for a long time directly
contrary to my opinion, very reproachful to himself,
and extremely disgustful to me ; and though, in
private, he has not justly fulfilled one of his engage-
ments to me, yet I was so uneasy and awkward at
coming to a breach, where I had once a close and
intimate friendship, that I continued with a kind of
desperate fidelity 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 on myself to use to any man.
The occasion of our difference was not any act what-
soever on my part ; it was entirely upon his ; by a
voluntary, but most insolent and intolerable demand,
amounting to no less than a claim of servitude during
the whole course of my life, without leaving to me, at
any time, a power either of getting forward witli
honour, or of retiring with tranquillity. This was
really and truly the substance of his demand upon me,
to which I need not tell you that 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 negotiation with me, in
which he showed as much of meanness in his proposals.

House of Commons, and subsequently one of the vice-
treasurers of Ireland, and a privy-councillor in both, king-
doms. He sat in the English House of Commons from
1783 to his death in 1791.

36 EDMUND BURKE [1765

as he had done of arrogance in his demands ; but as
all those proposals were vitiated by the taint of that
servitude -with which they were all mixed, his negotia-
tion came to nothing. He grounded those monstrous
claims (such as never were before heard of in this
country) on that pension which he had procured for
me tKrough 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 goodness of the Primate, in a great degree, and
though, if it had come from Hamilton's pocket,
instead of being derived from the 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 even a memorial of such
a person about me, I offered to transfer it to his
attorney, in trust for him. This offer he thought
proper to accept. I beg pardon, my dear Mood, for
troubling you so long, on a subject which ought not
to employ a moment of your thoughts, and never shall
again employ a moment of mine.

To your inquiry concerning some propositions in
a certain assembly, of a nature injurious to Ireland,
since your departure, I know none of that kind,
except one made by a Mr. Shiffner, to lessen the
number of ports of entry in Britain and Ireland
allowed for the trade of wool and woollen-yarn of the
growth of the latter country. This attempt was
grounded on the decrease of the import of those commo-
dities from Ireland, which they rashly attributed to
the greater facility of the illicit transport of wool from
Ireland to France, by the indulgence of a number of
ports. This idea, founded in an ignorance of the
nature of the Irish trade, had weight with some
persons ; but the decreased import of Irish wool and
yarn being accounted for upon true and rational
principles, in a short memorial delivered to Mr. Towns-
hend, he saw at once into it with his usual sagacity,

1765] TO HENRY FLOOD 37

and he has silenced this complaint, at least for this
session. Nothing else was done or meant., that I could
discover, though I have not been inattentive ; and
I am not without good hopes, that the menaces in
the beginning of the session will end as they began,
only in idle and imprudent words. At least, there is
a strong probability that new men will come in, and,
not improbably, with new ideas. At ijiis very instant
the causes productive of such a change are strongly at
work. The Kegency Bill has shown such want of
concert and want of capacity in the ministers, such
an inattention to the honour of the Crown, if not such
a design against it such imposition and surprise upon
the king, and such a misrepresentation of the disposi-
tion of Parliament to the Sovereign, that there is no
doubt there is a fixed resolution to get rid of them all
(unless, perhaps, of Grenville), but principally of the
Duke of Bedford. So that you will have much more
reason to be surprised to find the ministry standing
by the end of next week, than to hear of their entire
removal. Nothing but an intractable temper in your
friend Pitt, can prevent a most admirable and lasting
system from being put together ; and this crisis will
show whether pride or patriotism be predominant in
his character ; for you may be assured, that he has it
now in his power to come into the service of his
country, upon any plan of politics he may choose to
dictate, with great and honourable terms to himself
and to every friend he has in the world ; and with
such a stretch of power, as will be equal to everything
but absolute despotism, over the king and kingdom.
A few days will show whether he will take this part,
or that of continuing on his back at Hayes, talking
fustian, excluded from all ministerial, and incapable
of all parliamentary service ; for his gout is worse than
ever, but his pride may disable him more than his
gout. These matters so fill our imaginations here,
that with our mob of six or seven thousand weavers,
who pursue the ministry, and do not leave them quiet
or safety in their houses, we have little to think of

38 EDMUND BURKE [1765

other things. However, I will send you the new
edition of Swift's posthumous works. I doubt you
can hardly read this hand ; but it is very late.
Mrs. Burke has been ill, and recovers but slowly. t She
desires her respects to you and Lady Frances. Julia is
much obliged to you : Will. Burke always remembers
you with affection ; and so does,
My dear Flood,

Your most affectionate, humble servant,

E. BTJRKE.

Pray remember me to Langrishe, and to Leland and
Bowden. Dr. Nugent desires his compliments to you
in the strongest manner. He has conceived a very
high esteem for you.

EDMUND BUEKE, ESQ., TO THE MAEQTJIS OF
* ROCKINGHAM 1

Dublin, August 21, 1766.

MY DEAE LOED,

I have let slip a post since my arrival in Dublin,
without paying my respects to you on your arrival
at Wentworth. I am ashamed of the appearance of
a neglect so contrary to my duty, and (I hope you
will believe) to my sentiments. The truth is, I wished
to learn a little of the "bon-ton of this place, relative to
the late and present administration, before I troubled
you with a letter. This great town is, indeed, at
present, only a great desert ; but amongst those who
remain, there is but one opinion with regard to your
lordship. They are loud in declaring that no minister
ever went through employment, or retired out of it,
with so much true honour and reputation. About the
new system, there is much doubt and uneasiness.
There is still a little twilight of popularity remaining

1 Charles, second Marquis of Rockingham, who came into
office at the head of the Treasury, in 1765, and appointed
Bnrke his private secretary.

1766] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 39

round the great peer, 1 but it fades away every moment ;
and the people here, who, in general, only reflect back
the impressions of London, are growing quite out of
humour with him. We have odd accounts from thence,
of which it is not very easy to find the solution. I begin
almost to fear, that your lordship left town a little too
early. I think your friends must, since then, have
wanted your advice on more than one occasion. Am
I to attribute the resignation of Saunders to his having
received some new instance of disregard from the great
disposer ? I thought it was a settled point, that none
should go out without the concurrence of the party.
But gentlemen, who are really such, do not easily
submit their feelings to their politics. After this,
can Keppel, or any of the rest, stay in ? And is
Lord Egmont's resignation the effect also of temper ? a
That event, I own, surprises me. It looks as if Mr. Pitt
would find that the offer of privy-seal of Scotland was
by no means sufficient for Lord Bute. 3 Nothing but
weakness appears in the whole fabric of his ministry ;
yet I do not see what strength the party is likely to
derive from thence. His necessities and Ms anger
may drive him into the arms of the Bedfords ; for,
I confess, I think he is gone too far to think of returning
to the good ground which he originally declined to
stand upon. I saw in the Chronicle an account of the
address ; 4 and, I confess, I have seldom in my life
been more thoroughly mortified. It was not very long ;
it was really simple, neat, and elegant. The abstracting

1 The Earl of Chatham.

2 Lord Egmgnt, who came in with the Marquis of
Rockingham, as First Lord of the Admiralty, does not
appear to have quitted office until the 16th Sept. 1766,

3 The privy-seal of Scotland was given to the Right Hon.
James Stuart Mackenzie, brother to Lord Bute, on the
30th of August, 1766.

4 Mr. Burke probably alludes to an address presented
to the Marquis of Rockingham on the 6th of August in
this year, by a deputation from the merchants of London,
trading to the West Indies and North .America.

40 EDMUND BUEKE [1766

(which, by the way, was not very well done), did great
mischief to it. I do not like your lordship's method of
putting your popularity into your cabinet, like a curious
medal. It is current coin, or it is nothing. I am really
vexed ; as I think, properly managed, it would have
led the other towns. May I flatter myself, that when-
ever your lordship has a leisure moment, I may be
favoured with your remembrance and your directions ?
You would not do me justice, if you thought any person
attached to your interest, your honour, or your satis-
faction, with a warmer zeal than,

My lord,
Your most obedient, and ever obliged,

humble servant,

E. BUBKE,

I beg your lordship will present my humble respects,
with those of Mrs. Burke, to Lady Eockingham.
I hope the air of Wentworth has re-established her
health. I just hear that they are negotiating with
Yorke ; l I fear for him,

EDMUND BTJEKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQTJIS OF
EOCKINGHAM

Parson's Green. August 1, 1767.

MY DEAR LOBD,

I hope you have by this time got over a little of
your Yorkshire bustle, after escaping so much to your
credit from the bustle of Westminster. 2 Your lordship's
conduct has certainly been very honourable to yourself,
and very pleasing to your friends. If we may judge

1 The Hon. Charles Yorke, second st>n* of Lord Chan-
cellor Hardwieke.

2 Mr, Burke here alludes to overtures for a union of
parties, by the junction of the Marquis of Eockingham
and the Duke of Bedford, with the Chatham and Grafton
administration. The negotiations were broken off by
Lord RocMngham's refusal to take office, unless with his
whole party, and the appointment of a leader in the
House of Commons.

1767] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 41

from appearances, the consequences which have
attended it are not very displeasing to your enemies.
His majesty never was in better spirits. He has got
a ministry weak and dependent ; and, what is better,
willing to continue so. They all think they have very
handsomely discharged any engagements of honour
they might have had to your lordship ; and, to say
the truth, seem not very miserable at being rid of you,
They are certainly determined to hold with the present
garrison, and to make the best agreement they can
amongst themselves ; for this purpose they are
negotiating something with Charles Townshead. 1
Lord Bute is seldom a day out of town : I cannot
find whether he confers directly and personally with
the ministry, but am told he does, I saw General
Conway 2 a day or two after you left us. I never knew
him talk in a more alert, firm, and decided tone. There
was not the slighest trace of his usual diffidence and
hesitation. He lamented your lordship's mistake in
not coming into administration at this juncture. But,
I declare, his conversation did, to me, more thoroughly
justify your non-acceptance, than anything I had
heard, either from yourself or others, on that subject,
as it laid open more clearly the ideas upon which they
went in treating with you. Their plan, in short, was,
that your lordship, with a few only of the chief of your
friends, should take offices ; and that the rest should
wait those vacancies which death, and occasional
arrangements, might make in a course of time. He
dwelt much upon the advantages which had attended
this method of proceeding, when Mr. Pitt acceded to
the old administration in 1757. Though I felfc in-
dignation enough at this comparison of times and
persons, I could hardly help laughing at the notion
of providing for a party, upon a system which supposed
the long and steady continuance of the same admirristra-

1 The Bight Hon. Charles Townshend, at this time
Chancellor of the Exchequer. He died in September of
this year.

2 Henry Seymour Conway, brother of Lord Hertford.

C 3

42 EDMUND BURKE [1767

tion. I told him that your lordship's opinion of the
duty of a leader of party was to take more care of his
Mends than of himself ; and that the world greatly
mistook you if they imagined that you would come in
otherwise than in corps ; and that after you had thought
your own whole bottom too narrow, you would con-
descend to build your administration on a foundation
still narrower ; and give up (for that it would be) many
of your own people, in order to establish your irrecon-
cilable enemies in those situations which had formerly
enabled, and would again enable them to distress,
probably to destroy you. That, beyond this, he was
not less fond of a "system of extermination than you
were. I said a great deal, and with as much freedom
as consisted with carrying on the discourse in good
humour, of the power and dispositions of the Bute
party, the use they had made of their power in your
time, and the formidable increase and full establish-
ment of that power, which must be the necessary
consequence of the part which our former friends in
office seemed just now inclined to take. This discourse
had no sort of effect. The Bute influence had lost all
its terrors. An apprehension of Grenville's x coming
in, was the ostensible objection to every thing. Much
moderation towards the king's friends, and many
apologies for every part of their conduct. In the end
he said (I think, directly, but I am sure in effect),
that as long as the Duke of Graf ton 2 thought it for
Ms honour to stay in, he could not resign. I have
troubled you with this conversation, as it seemed to
me very fully to indicate the true spirit of the ministry.
I am quite satisfied that if ever the court had any real

1 The Bight Hon. George Grenville, brother of Earl
Temple, and First Lord of the Treasury from April 1763
to July 1765, when he gave way to the Marquis of
Rockingliam. He died in 1770.

2 Augustus Henry, third Duke of Grafton, then First
Lord of the Treasury, which office His Grace held until
1770. He was Privy Seal in the Rockingham administra-
tion of 1782.

1767] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 43

intention that your lordship should come in, it was
merely to office, and not to administration ; to lower
your character, and entirely to disunite the party.
This you have escaped. All of the party who are
capable of judging, and supplied with materials for it,
will rejoice in your escape ; but there are some who
feel anxious and uneasy, as if an opportunity of getting
into power had missed upon mere points of delicacy.
Lord Edgecumbe wrote lately to Lord Besborough :
the Princess Amelia is down with him. He is frightened
out of his wits : all his information comes from that
quarter. Does not your lordship think, that a word
from you to set the matter to rights, as to the rupture
of both negotiations, might be useful with regard to
him f He is wofully impatient. You see, my lord,
that by giving you so free an account of my conversa-
tion with Conway, this letter is only for yourself.
Lord John Cavendish 1 might, indeed, have given you
the whole of it, as well as of his own ; but I apprehend
that he will have an opportunity of conveying this to
your lordship, before he can see you. Be so good as
to present my humble respects to my Lady Rocking-
ham; and believe me, with the truest esteem and
attachment,

My dear lord, ever yours,
E.

Hopkins has the green cloth, Lowndes's brother the
excise, and Bradshaw is secretary to the treasury.
Wedderburne 2 is gone the north circuit : he told me
he would wait on your lordship at Wentworth.

1 Lord John Cavendish came into office as a Junior
Lord of the Treasury with the Boekingham administra-
tion, in 1765, and went out with his party in the following
year. He came again into place with Lord Roeldngham,
in 1782, when he was appointed Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer, which post he also filled in the coalition ministry.

2 Afterwards Earl of Rosslyn, and Lord High Chancellor
of England.

EDMUND BURKE [1767

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
ROCKOTGHAM

Parson's Green, August 18, 1767.
MY DEAR LORD,

I was just on the point of writing when I received
your letter by Lord Albemarle. I am glad he was
with you at Wentworth, and that you had an oppor-
tunity of confirming him in the sentiments which so
handsomely arose in his own breast, on the first
representation of the late business. Upon my word,
everything I see of that family, increases my opinion
(originally no small one) of their honour, spirit, and
steadiness. I found the admiral 1 at Goodwood, and
came to town with him. He is very right, and the
more laudably so, as he is not without a strong feeling
of the inconveniences attending a protracted opposition
from the craving demands of friends and dependents,
who will very little enter into the motives to a conduct
which stands between them and all their wants and
expectations. He had a good deal of talk with the
Duke of Richmond, and I had some. I saw in him
many signs of uneasiness, but none of wavering. His
grace cannot be persuaded of the propriety of not
accepting the late offers, or, at least, of not having
gone further than you did, so as to put all the ministers
in the wrong, by driving them to avow more of a closet
system, than they would willingly profess to the world.
There was great good opinion (amounting to veneration)
of your lordship, much satisfaction in the principles of
the party, but still a leaning to Conway, and a dislike
to the Grenvilles, which operate powerfully towards
the doctrine of acceptance. He fears that the corps
which will neither unite .with the other squadrons in
opposition, nor accept the offers made by administra-
tion, must, in the nature of things, be dissolved very
speedily, and perhaps not very reputably, as being,

1 The Hon. Augustus Keppel, brother to George, third
Earl of Albemarle.

1767] TO THE MARQUIS OP BOCKINGHAM 45

to appearance, destitute of anything like a certain
object. I combated tMs opinion in the best manner
I could. The duke said nothing to me of the part he
should take in the next session. I did not, indeed, at
ail lead the conversation that way, thinking the ground
delicate, and that, in matters of this sort, men are
more safely trusted to the natural operation of things,
as they strike their own minds, than to any engage-
ments. Keppel went farther, and to him he was more
explicit. He seemed greatly at a loss for what you
meant to pursue ; but was extremely willing to take
a warm and vigorous part with your lordship, in case
you could come to settle some distinct plan of political
and parliamentary conduct. Keppel has no doubt of
him ; I have as little hesitation about his honour, but
he has an anxious, busy mind. Work must be cut
out for him, or he will not be satisfied easily. If this
be done, I am persuaded he will be faithful and resolute ;
and I am sure he is an essential part of the strength of
your body. The admiral joins in my opinion of the
necessity of your lordship's writing to him, once or
twice, during the recess : some attentions of this sort
will be expedient to continue Mm in affection to the
cause, and to counterbalance the influence of Lord
Holland, always the king's friend, and of General
Conway, newly adopted into that corps, and probably
with all the zeal of a new convert. It is no reflection
on his grace to suppose that, in some way or other,
these influences so natural, and in some respects so
little blameable, should have their weight.

I beg pardon, for having run on so long upon thi&
topic. When I know Mr. Dowdeswell's L time, I will
obey your lordship's commands without delay. Of
the Grenvilles I hear nothing. In spite of themselves,

1 The Bight Hon. William Dowdeswell, Member of
Parliament for Worcestershire, a Privy Counsellor, and
Chancellor of the Exchequer during tlie Rockingham
administration of 1765-6. He was afterwards considered
the leader of the Kockingham party in the House of
Commons.

46 EDMUND BURKE [1767

they are compelled for a while to be quiet, and to
play no tricks. Conway is gone fairly to the devil.
Lord Frederick Campbell is secretary to the lord
lieutenant. This is Conway's job. Conway is also to
have Lord Townshend's ordnance ; but for the present,
I hear, declines the salary, I hear too, that Pynsent
is to be sold ; but I don't know who the purchaser is.
The Duke of Newcastle grumbles as usual. There is
one point in which I incline to join with him, that of
elections. Surely, if there be, as there are, monied men
in the party, they ought not to let the venal boroughs
get engaged in the manner they are likely to be. Adieu,
my dear lord ; you will be so good as to forgive this
tedious letter, to present my humble respects to my
Lady Rockingham, and to believe me, with the greatest
esteem and affection, ever your lordship's most obliged,,
and most obedient humble servant,

E. BURKE.

Lord Chesterfield has been ill, and dangerously so ;
but I am told is recovering. If he should die this time,
the county of Buckingham would become suddenly
vacant. Lord Verney, on this idea, desires to know
what your wishes on this subject would be, and in
what way his interest (always at the service of the
cause) may be useful.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO RICHARD SHACKLETON
Gregories, near Beaconsfield, May> 1, 1768.

My DEAR SHACKLETON,

I thank you heartily for your letter, and even for
the reproaches which it contains." They are, when of
that kind, vary sure, and not the most unpleasing,
indications of a real affection. Indeed, my neglect of
writing is by no means justifiable, and does not stand
well in my own opinion ; but I am sorry to say it,
I }iave never been quite correct and finished in my
style of life ; and I fear I never shall. However, if
J keep the principal parts tolerably right, I shall,

1768] TO RICHARD SHACKLETON 47

I hope, meet pardon, if not something more, from
such friends as it is the great blessing of my life to
have had, in every stage of it. As to the neglects of
one who is but too much my brother, I have nothing
to say for him. He may write himself, if he pleases ;
and he has nothing to prevent him but too much
idleness, which I have observed fills up a man's time
much more completely, and leaves Mm less his own
master, than any sort of employment whatsoever.

I am much obliged to Mr. Beauchamp for his kind
opinion of me, and to your partial representations as
the cause of it. I am willing to do my best to forward
Dr. Dunkin's subscription. You may easily believe
that your wishing well to it, will be sufficient to engage
my endeavours (as far as they can go) without any
further inducement. But Dunkin deserved some rank
among the poets of our time and country ; and I agree
with you in thinking his son an ingenious and worthy
man. I cannot, I fear, do a great deal. I am always
ready to subscribe myself, and, perhaps, in general,
too ready to put forward subscriptions, which weakens
my interest when I want to use it on some extra-
ordinary occasions. I don't say this as in the least
declining the business you recommended, for I will
certainly do all I can.

I know your kindness makes you wish, now and
then, to hear of my situation. As to myself, I am,
by the very singular kindness of some friends, in a way
very agreeable to me. Again elected on the same
interest, 1 1 have made a push, with all I could collect
of my own, and the aid of my friends, to cast a little
root in this country. I have purchased a house, with
an estate of about six hundred acres of land, in
Buckinghamshire, twenty-four miles from London,
where I now am. 2 It is a place exceedingly pleasant ;

1 In the Parliament which met on the 10th May, 1768,
Mr. Burke was again returned for Wendover, through the
interest of Lord Verney.

2 This place, called Gregories in the more ancient deeds,
and Gregories or Butler's Court in some of later date,

48 EDMUND BURKE [1768

and I propose (God willing) to become a farmer in
good earnest. You, who are classical, will not be
displeased to hear that it was formerly the seat of
Waller the poet, whose house, or part of it, makes at
present the farm-house within an hundred yards of
me. When yon take a journey to England, you are
obliged, by tenure, to come and pay due homage to
the capital seat of your once favourite poet,

I am glad to find my venerable old friend, your
father, still preserves his health, and the even tenor
of his mind. At her age, no friend could have hoped
for your mother anything but the Euthanasia ; and
in such circumstances, it must have been a great
comfort to you that she had it so perfectly.

Mrs. Burke preserves an affectionate and grateful
memory of Mrs. Shackleton's kindness to her when
she was in Ireland, and joins us all in the heartiest
salutations to you both.

Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me

most sincerely yours,

E. BTJBKE.

EDMUND BTJKKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQTJIS OF
EOCKIKGHAM

Gregories, July 18, 1768.
MY BEAK LORD,

I intended to have written by the Duke of Portland,
who was so kind as to spend a part of a day with us,
but I am afraid I shall not be able to avail myself of
the opportunity. Some company came upon me after
his grace's departure, who have taken up my time, so
that I fear he will be set out for the north, before I can
send this to him. Indeed, I have little worth your
hearing to communicate. Such accounts as I picked
up when I was last in town, will rather serve as an
excuse for my troubling your lordship, than at all
contribute to your information concerning the present

continued from this time in the family of Burke, until the
death of his widow, in 1812.

1768] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 49

posture of things. Lord Shelburne still continues in
administration, though as adverse and as much disliked
as ever. The minister for Turin is not yet declared.
I hear it said, and I believe with truth, that his majesty
declined having anything to do with the decision of
this business, but recommended them to settle it
among themselves, as well as they could. This does
not seem to be much out of character ; nor is it,
I think, the most favourable symptom in the world
to the power of the Duke of Grafton, who continues,
as I hear, his old complaints of his situation, and his
genuine desire of holding it as long as he can. At the
same time, Lord Shelburne gets loose too. I know
that Lord Camden, who adhered to him in these late
divisions, has given him up, and gone over to the
Duke of Grafton. The Bedf ords are horridly frightened
at all this, for fear of seeing the table they had so well
covered, and at which they sat down with so good an
appetite, kicked down in the scuffle. They advised
that things should not be brought to extremities. They
find things not ripe, at present, for bringing in Grenville;
and that any capital remove just now, would only
betray their weakness in the closet and in the nation.
Will. Burke met Dr. Hay : they had a great deal of
very serious conversation, not to say earnest and eager,
on the part of the doctor. I mention it, rather to show
the disposition of that faction, and the tone of their
politics, than because I am sure it was meant as an
opening to any future negotiation. Hay expressed
a great desire of seeing you in government, upon
proper terms, with the Bedfords; lamented the
exclusive and prescriptive spirit of your party, which
he feared would make such a union difficult; and
said, that if it were not your own fault, it would be
extremely easy to form a strong and permanent system.
George Grenville was mentioned as a very proper
matter of consideration, but he did not insist over
much on that point ; did not know why it should be
an indispensable condition that your lordship should
be at the head of the treasury ; and why some other

50 EDMUND BURKE [1768

great situation, with a fair proportion of power, might
not answer the purpose as well ; that if Grenville was
particularly exceptionable, another middle person
might have the treasury : who was that middle
person ? They had him in their eye, but would not
name him before they knew that the general proposition
would be accepted. He spoke of the ministry as
a strange incoherent composition, that certainly would
not stand. This he considered as a matter beyond
dispute. On W. Burke's relating this conversation to
me, I fancy their middle man to be the same they had
in their thoughts this time twelvemonth Lord Gower, 1
for they spoke much the same language, however ill
the epithet of middleman agreed with their idea.
But on talking with Fitzherbert, on a certain rap of
the knuckles which the Butes had given to the Bedfords,
he said he wondered at it, because he knew that their
style was to talk very civilly of the Butes, and even
to go so far as to name the Duke of Northumberland 2
as a proper person for the treasury, in case of the Duke
of Graftbn going out. This -seems, if true, to let in
a little light upon Hay's system. Will. Burke told
him, that he did not conceive what man they could
name so worthy as your lordship, of the joint confidence
of parties, who had never been known to deceive any
party or any individual, or who to conduct government
better, from the confidence which the whole mercantile
interest had in you ; besides the large and respectable
following of individuals. The junction they seemed
to wish, he said, had been in their own power last year,
but that they were too hungry to accept it ; that it
would, among others, have brought them this advan-
tage, it would have acquired them a little character.
The truth is, the Bedfords will never act any part,
either fair or amicable, with your lordship or your

1 One of the Duke of Bedford's party, who had joined
the Chatham and Grafton administration in the last year,
1767; being appointed president of the council, which
office he still held.

2 Hugh, first Duke of Northumberland.

1768] TO THE MAKQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 51

friends, until they see you in a situation to give the
law to them ; and all attempts towards it, before
that time, will be not only useless but dangerous.
I have plagued you a good deal with political chat,
which you have, so far as it is authentic, probably
received already in a much better manner.

We have had incessant rains. My clover is got in,
in a tolerable manner, but at a heavy expense. About
fourteen or fifteen acres of natural grass are down
already, under a deluge of rain. The farmers here
apprehend a poor harvest, as the corn has suffered
a good deal whilst in the flower. I have just got an
account from my friend in Ireland, that the bull will
be exceedingly acceptable. At the same time that
I return my thanks for him, I must entreat your
lordship to order him to be sent to Mr. Felix Doran,
a merchant and a friend at Liverpool, who will transmit
him to Dublin.

Your lordship will be so good as to present my
respects to Lady Rockingham ; and to believe me,
with the most sincere attachment,

My dear lord,

Your most affectionate and obedient
humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
ROCKIKGHAM

Gregories, Sunday night, half after 10,

My 2, 1769.
MY DEAR LORD,

I am beyond expression obliged to your lordship for
your very full, very satisfactory, and very friendly
letter, which I found at home on my return from my
evening walk. I wish, indeed, that so great a pleasure
to me had been purchased at the expense of less fatigue
to yourself, for I know and feel what an irksome task
the writing of long letters is ; and there was nothing

52 EDMUND BURKE [1769

I was so much surprised at, in the late Duke of
Newcastle, as that immense and almost incredible ease,
with which he was able to dispatch such an infinite
number of letters. That employment seemed to be
a sort of recreation to Mm. I am glad that your
lordship's recreation at Harrowden was of another
kind. I am sure it must be extremely serviceable, as
well as delightful to you, to have enjoyed that interval
of ease between the hurry of London and the hurry of
Yorkshire ; and it was extremely well thought on, to
cut this moment of perfect tranquillity out of your
busy hfe. I really think such moments ought to be
caught and improved as often as possible.

I am very glad to find that something is to be done
in Yorkshire relative to the late determination. 1 I am
quite pleased with your lordship's plan for the in-
structions in every particular, provided instructions
(or thanks, which are tantamount but more respectful,)
should be the mode proposed. But I confess I am,
when the objects are well chosen, rather more fond
of the method of petition, because it carries more the
air of uniformity and concurrence ; and, being more
out of the common road, and yet, I apprehend,
constitutional enough, it will be more striking and
more suitable to the magnitude of the occasion. There
is a further reason which weighs with me even more
than the former. I observe, that the court cares very
little what becomes of the people in ministerial situa-
tions, whether they are odious or not, or whether they
get through their business easily and gracefully, or
struggle .with the most embarrassing and scandalous
difficulties. What they suffer makes no impression ;
but I observe them to be much alarmed with whatever
is brought directly into the king's presence. Nothing
can tend more to bring the whole system into disrepute
and disgust with him, than to see with his own eyes
and hear with his own ears the effect it has upon the

1 The rejection of Wilkes, and return of Luttrell, for
Middlesex, by the House of Commons,

1769] TO THE MAEQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 53

people. His feeling in this manner the ill consequences
of the system will, I am persuaded, be the only means
of bringing on that only change which can do good,
I mean the change of the whole scheme of -weak,
divided, and dependent administrations. However,
I beg pardon if I have urged this too much. The
grand point, to be sure, is a strong and natural expres-
sion of dislike to our elections for Middlesex. I -would
just submit, whether giving thanks (so far as regards
this question) for what is passed, be sufficient ; but
that something of a request with regard to redress and
prevention, in so interesting and important a point of
public liberty, should be strongly pressed. I am sure
I am far from thinking your lordship's expressions on
this subject to be too warm. The address ought to
be firm and full of vigour ; and I rather think that
the thanks for the nullum tempus, both the first and
the last, were rather too short and general. I am no
great friend, in general, of long-winded performances ;
but certainly the very length of these things greatly
aids the impression in several instances. The Surrey
address is solely confined to the Middlesex election,
which is certainly the best of two extremes. I call
this an extreme, because, certainly, our voting the
civil list debt 1 without account, besides other pro-
ceedings, merit a very large share of censure, and
might, at least, be involved in general terms. I forgot
to mention a thing that just struck me, relative to
that hint of general warrants. Your lordship sees
that it will require some delicacy to keep up that
very right idea of your lordship's, c that they should
recollect to what party they are obliged for that
determination,' without seeming to put a studied
affront on G. G., with whom an appearance of union
at this time, and on this measure, may be very
necessary.

I had yesterday, on my return from town, a note
1 A sum exceeding 500,000 was granted to pay off a
debt on the civil list, without due inquiry or the production
of papers.

54 EDMUND BURKE [1769

from the Duke of Richmond. It was to tell me that he
proposed to dine with me on his way from Park-place.
I was unluckily in London, and so missed of him.

Sir W. Meredith's pamphlet is out, and, I believe,
liked ; but I know very little of what is said and done.
My brother has got a present of an anonymous fowl
from the West Indies. It is not ugly, and may be
curious ; he has sent it to Grosvenor Square, and
takes the liberty of requesting Lady Rockingham's
acceptance of it.

I am afraid of detaining your servant longer. If
anything should occur, I may trouble your lordship
with it another time.

Surely your lordship's sentiments about Sir George
Colebrooke are as proper as possible ; and I beg you
will not think I presumed to press upon you things of
that nature, when I knew your hands to be previously
so very full. I ought to ask a thousand pardons for
troubling you in any way about them ; but they
would have been apt to attribute my refusal to apply
to ill-nature, or a worse motive, if worse there be.
A thousand thanks for what you have done, which
was more by a great deal than I could in reason have
expected. Adieu, my dear lord, and do me the justice
to believe me, with the truest and heartiest affection,
Your lordship's ever obliged and obedient
humble servant,

EDM. BTJBKE.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQTJIS OF
ROCKDTGHAM

Gvegories, Sunday, July 9, 1769.
MY DEAB LORD,

I was on the point of sitting down to trouble your
lordship with a word or two more, on the subject of
your last letter, when I heard from Will. Burke that
he had seen Lord Chatham pass by, on his return from
St. James's, and that he had certainly been in the
closet. He did not continue there above twenty

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF EOOKINGHAM 55

minutes, ID is not yet known whether he was sent for,
or went of his own mere motion. If he was sent for,
the shortness of the conference seems to indicate that
nothing at all has been settled. If he was not sent for,
it was only humbly to lay a reprimand at the feet of
his most gracious master, and to talk some significant,
pompous, creeping, explanatory, ambiguous matter, in
the true Chathamic style, and that's all. If, indeed,
a change is thought on, I make no doubt but they will
aim at the choice of him, as the puller-down of the
old, and the architect of the new fabric. If so, the
building will not, I suspect, be executed in a very
workmanlike manner, and can hardly be such as your
lordship will choose to be lodged in, though you should
be invited to the state apartment in it ; which, how-
ever, will not be the event, whether the arrangement
is made agreeably to the inclination of Lord Chatham,
or of those who employ him. The plan of the court
(coinciding sufficiently with his dispositions, but totally
adverse to your principles and wishes ), would be to
keep the gross of the present ministry as the body of
the place, and to .buttress it up with the Grenvilles and
the Shelburne people. This arrangement would partly
resist, and partly dissipate the present storm. It
would give them a degree of present strength, much
wanting in this ugly crisis of their affairs, and which,
it would be admitted, is considerable, without subject-
ing them to the effects of that plan of connexion which
is the greatest of all possible terrors to the Bute faction.
Whatever they may do, or threaten at court, I should
fancy your lordship's conduct will not be affected by
it one way or the other. If I have any guess, from
public appearance or private information, it is steadily
adverse (as far as there is steadiness in any of its
dispositions) to your lordship, to your friends, and to
your principles. Your strength is of another kind, and,
I trust, a better. 'The sole method of operating upon
them, because they have no other standard of respect,
is by fear. They will never give your lordship credit
for your moderation. Your doing but little, will be

56 EDMUND BUKKE [1769

attributed to your not being in a situation to do more.
With regard to your own friends, a certain delicacy of
management (which is one of the things in which you
excel) is certainly very proper, and much in the tenor
of your whole conduct ; but so far as the court is
concerned, the most effectual method seems to be far
the best, and I could wish your lordship to choose such
time, place, and manner for carrying through the
business concerning the right of election, as will have
most of a sober and well-conducted energy in it,
without the smallest regard to their opinions or their
representations. Far from shunning the appearance of
a lead in this business, it would be every way better,
that they thought the whole manoeuvre as much owing
to your lordship's weight in your county, and to your
activity in exerting it, as to the general sense and
inclination of the people, merely left to themselves. It is
the true terror of those who take the lead in the scheme
of private influence, to find that the people have their
leaders too, in whom they repose a perfect confidence.
I had lately a short letter from the Duke of Eich-
mond. As the disposition to do something relative to
the right of election seems to spread and grow warmer
every day, he desires to know from me what your
inclinations were with regard to this point. I informed
his grace of the substance of your lordship's letter, in
the shortest manner I was able ; that you were far
from adverse to some proceeding, but that you wished
it on a plan more limited than that of the Middlesex
and London, and confined nearly, if not entirely, to that
single interesting point, that you seemed to prefer the
method of instruction to that of petition (at least in
your own county), but that you had said nothing of
a definitive resolution upon that subject in your letter
to me. As to the rest, 1 wrote pretty nearly in sub-
stance the same to his grace that I had done to your
lordship. Might I presume to sugge'st, that just at this
time he may possibly expect to hear from your lordship,
by the first safe conveyance. If the letter be given to
his porter, it will be sent by th,e coach to Goodwood.

1769] TO THE MAEQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 57

I saw a person who may be supposed to talk pretty
much the language of the Butes, when I was in town
last Wednesday. The ministers are extremely alarmed
at the late proceedings in London and Surrey ; and
not less so at the late advices from America. In this
staggering situation, I imagine, they would derive great
comfort, and some support, by finding a slur cast upon
the mode of petitioning. They have great terror from
the circumstance of bringing the discontents of the
people directly home to the king. From instructions
they have but little apprehension ; they are a good
deal worn out, and as such are hardly fit to be em-
ployed on a business, new, unprecedented, and nation-
ally alarming ; and they know besides, I suppose, from
experience, that nothing much affects at ... but what
is directly seen and heard ; and, in truth, this is the
case of most weak and inexperienced people. It is
from the fears of the adversary that sometimes one
must take a direction for the operations against him.
I beg pardon for opening this affair again to your
lordship, especially as you have friends near you,
among whom it will be discussed to your satisfaction
in every particular. Your lordship has seen the
Buckinghamshire advertisement. Lord Verney opened
the matter to the grand jury by telling them that
several respectable gentlemen and freeholders had
applied to him to propose a meeting on the judgement
in favour of Colonel Luttrell, that he had declined
taking it upon him, as member for the county, but
that in that capacity he was very willing to attend the
meeting, and to act in conformity to their determina-
tion. There was some, though but a feeble, opposition
to the meeting. When it came to the question, eleven
were for it, only three against. One was neuter. The
sheriff refused to advertise, on which they agreed to do
it without him. The meeting is put off until, I think,
the twelfth of September or thereabouts. This measure
of delay I attribute to the politics of Stowe. 1 The

1 The seat of Richard, second Earl Temple, elder
brother of Mr, George Grenville. Grenville, who was

58 EDMUND BURKE [1769

reason, assigned- is that the freeholders should be able
to get their harvest in, and come in greater numbers,
and with less inconvenience to the meeting. But the
former, I imagine, to be the true reason, unless, perhaps,
they may be willing to see what course is taken in
Yorkshire before they begin to move.

I got a letter, since I began this, from Charles
Townshend (Tommy's brother). He says that Pitt
seemed to be in remarkable good humour, on coming
out of the closet. I hear, too, that Lord Hertford,
whose eldest hope has been for a long time talking
opposition language in all companies, has been at
Stowe. If this be true, it is probably settled for
a family system, which, in my opinion, precludes all
possibility of a good event. Had the first offer gone
elsewhere, they might have fallen into a plan of yours,
with credit to themselves, and possibly with advantage
to the public. This could not be the event, either in
point of reputation or safety, if under the direction of
Lord Chatham, and the lead of the Grenvilles, your
lordship and your friends were to make a part of an
arrangement. The court alone can profit by any move-
ments of Lord Chatham, and he is always their resource,
when they are run hard. I never attempt to write any-
thing like news to your lordship that, when it is done,
I do not begin to think myself very foolish, considering
my own distant situation, and the lingering method
of conveyance. You have all this, undoubtedly, more
fully and authentically from others, as well as much
earlier. However, I take my chance, and am with the
greatest respect and affection,

My dear lord,

Your ever obedient and obliged
humble servant,
EDM. BURKE.

Prime Minister in 1763, was brother-in-law to Lord
Chatham, by the latter's marriage with Lady Hester
Grenville.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 59

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQTJIS OF
ROCKINGHAM

Beaconsfield, July 30, 1769.
MY DEAR LORD,

I have had a letter from Mr. Dowdeswell, in which
he spoke of being here, or meeting me at some third
place, in a few days. He has written something which
he wished me to see before its publication. I dare say
it will be able and useful. Dr. Blackstone has answered
Sir W. Meredith's pamphlet. I have not yet seen it ;
but it is more hot and bitter, by far, than able and
satisfactory, according to the accounts I have had. The
spirit of petitioning extends and strengthens. Cornwall,
Wilts, and Worcester, have appointed meetings. The
ministry move heaven and earth to prevent the pro-
gress of this spirit, and in some places they have
succeeded. Rigby got it under in Essex. I am told he
has made the same efforts, with the same effect, in
Norfolk ; and he is now gone, with his friend, the
provost, to oppose it in Northampton, though that is
a county in winch I should but little suspect & spirit
of that kind, so that his work will probably be easy.
I assure your lordship by everything that I can find,
that both friends and foes look with very anxious eyes
towards Yorkshire. The one very eagerly expecting,
the other heartily dreading, some motion of yours.
I hear the language of the courtiers is, that your
lordship has put a stop to the design of petitioning in
your county, and they have commended you for it;
but I trust you will not long suffer the disgrace of their
praises. Charles Fox called to see me, and I gathered
a good deal of the tone they hold from him. He talks
of the Bedfords in his old strain of dislike ; but the
ministry is much more united by the union of the other
parties ; things grow more distinct ; the ministry "be-
comes more formed ; and the necessity of firmness and
perseverance is every day more evident. I do believe
that the Duke of Grafton has got new and stronger
assurances than ever of support, and that the court is

60 EDMUND BUBKE [1769

fully determined to abide by the plan of the last session.
If the humour of petitioning should become anything
like general, they must, notwithstanding all their pre-
tended support, union, and firmness, abandon the field
with disgrace. They will not dare at least to take any
step toward punishing those who have been active in
that obnoxious measure. But it is their intention, and
it will be in their power, in case the petitioners should
be comparatively few, to make an example of terror to
all future attempts of expressing the sense of the
people, in any other way than by the votes of the House
of Commons. I never looked upon this method of
petition to the Crown as a thing eligible, but as a matter
of urgent and disagreeable necessity. The course of
thanking the members for their votes expresses, indeed,
a dissatisfaction in the procedure of the House of
Commons ; but it expresses also a submission to it ;
but if we mean to get redress, we must strengthen the
hands of the minority within doors, by the accession of
the public opinion, strongly declared to the court,
which is the source of the whole mischief. I cannot,
for my life, see what can be done very effectual, as long
as this parliament and this ministry subsist. I was
surprised not to see so much as the thanks of your
grand jury to your members in the newspaper. I should
have sent it, but that I was not sure, by your not
having published it yourselves, that you had not some
reason for keeping it back. I should have thought the
very purpose of these things to be the most extensive
publication.

As to what I was doing myself, 1 1 find it more difficult
to bring it to the present state of things, than to produce
something altogether new. Various matters have so
dissipated me, as to hinder me from a vigorous pursuit
of this object. I had some nation of casting it into the
form of a letter, addressed to a person who had long
been in parliament, and is now retired with all his old

1 This refers to the Thoughts on the Cause of the Present
Discontents.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 61

principles and regards still fresh and alive ; I mean
old Mr. White. 1 I -wish to know whether your lordship
likes this ? Whether you do, or do not, you will take
no notice of my design. Before I conclude 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 lay at Beaconsfield, was well and cheerful,
and walked up and down stairs at the inn without
help. I long very much to wait upon your lordship ;
but until I have given Dowdeswell a meeting, it will
be impossible. I have a fine turtle, at least I am told
so. I believe it better to send it to York, to meet your
lordship at the races, than to have it directed to Went-
worth. Present my humble duty to Lady Rockingham ;
her ladyship may now renew her coquetries with
Lord Chatham. The equipage that he now drives is
quite gay and youthful, and they may begin, as
formerly, a negotiation about carriages and horses.
With the greatest affection and attachment,

My dear lord,

Your ever obedient and obliged
humble servant,
EDM. BTJBKE,

EDMUND BTJBKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQUIS OF
ROCKINGHAM

Gregories, September, 1769.
MY DEAB LOUD, .

While I wait with some degree of earnestness for the
longer letter you proposed to honour me with, permit
me to thank you for the short one. It gave me as
much satisfaction as I have received from almost any
circumstance in my life. I do assure your lordship,
that the supposed inaction of Yorkshire was a matter

1 Probably John White, M.P. for Retf ord.

62 EDMUND BURKE [1769

of greater pleasure to enemies, and of despair to friends
of every sort, than can be well expressed. The well-
wishers of the cause now begin to brighten up and to
entertain livelier hopes. I send you, enclosed, a letter
which I had a little time ago from Whately. 1 He is
now with me. On conversation with him, I find it to
be true, which indeed I partly suspected, that a long
day was fixed for the Buckinghamshire petition, in
order to observe what steps were taken in other places ;
and to press the business or to relax in the pursuit,
according to the spirit in which it should be prosecuted
elsewhere, especially within the region of your lord-
ship's influence. But upon seeing the Yorkshire ad-
vertisement, they have prepared a number of handbills
to be circulated at and after the races, and are re-
solved, at the same time, not to omit private applica-
tions for attendance. They are confident of a numerous
and respectable meeting ; though my opinion is, that
they have been rather too late and too languid, con-
sidering that there are in this county strong and active
interests against us. I have seen the draft of the
petition. 3? or the substance it is very well ; nothing
very poignant in the expression, but nothing faulty that
I could find. Some points, besides the great object
of the petition, are hinted at ; but there is nothing
more than a hint, properly and judiciously enough put,
as I apprehend. They have not yet quite settled the
plan of the procedure. There is to be a meeting for
that purpose to-morrow at the races ; but the present
idea is, that Mr. Hampden should move the petition,
and that, if it should be carried, the Members of
Parliament for the county, and resident in it, should
present it to the king. Other gentlemen they did not
choose to apply to on this occasion, for fear of creating
a jealousy by a preference of one to another. I thought
that, by all means, some gentlemen not in Parliament
should be added, lest it should look solely like a man-
oeuvre of politicians, and not the genuine sense of the

1 Probably Thomas Whately, the well-known writer
on landscape gardening.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 63

county. It is a loss of which I am very sensible, that
the distance makes it impossible for me to have your
lordship's advice upon every step of my conduct, but
I shall act as nearly upon your general ideas as I can.
I perceive that Lord Temple and Mr. Grenville seem
prodigiously desirous of my paying them a visit. With
regard to the former, I have promised it, in case of my
going to Biddlesden, and did not decline it with regard
to the latter, but promised nothing. I think they wish
to mark in some very public manner, that they are on
no ill terms with your lordship ; and I expect, in con-
formity to that plan, a good deal of attention from
Lord Temple at the meeting. I shall avoid going too
far, not knowing how all this may end ; and, indeed,
because I do not find that your lordship has at all
settled how far you intend coalition with them. On
this hand, I would not choose a very shy and cold
behaviour, for fear of defeating any part of the end for
which we met at the Thatched House, or showing any-
thing of disunion, or mutual dislike, in the presence of
the common enemy. This kind of behaviour requires
a delicacy of management, for which I do not feel
myself well qualified, having ever liked a decided
situation of friendship or enmity ; but that is not
always in my choice. I mentioned to Whately, in
confidence, the doubts which prevailed among your
lordship's friends, concerning the object to what the
petition ought to be directed ; that some of them were
of opinion that the application should be made to the
House of Commons, and not to the Crown. He told
me that Mr. Grenville had originally entertained doubts
pretty nearly of the same nature ; but that he is now
entirely in favour of a petition to the Crown, because
that measure being free from any objection merely
constitutional, and happening to be that which was
first adopted, it would break the unity and firmness of
that chain of proceeding in the several counties and
towns (upon the preservation of which the whole
efficiency of this measure may very probably depend),
if we were to vary from the original mode of address ;

64 EDMUND BURKE [1769

that variation, with the departure also from the
latitude of the original plan, amounting to no less than
a condemnation of the whole measure, as far as it has
been hitherto pursued. I confess myself entirely of the
same opinion. It must be of infinite importance, that
the whole stream of the petitions should, as much ^as
possible, run one way. In an affair of this sort, it will,
besides, be necessary to be as simple as we can. Every
new controversy will embarrass us ; and in the meet-
ings which may and ought to follow that of Yorkshire,
if that county takes a road of its own, there will be two
questions ; one on the merits, the other on the mode.
They will have two patterns to follow ; and the disputes
which may arise on the preference of these modes,
cannot fail of creating difficulties, which may frustrate
the ^hole design. There is another point, too, which
a little affects me. If a petition is prepared to Parlia-
ment, it supposes that the other petitions, directly or
obliquely calling for a dissolution of Parliament, ought
to have an effect ; and/ after all, what reason is there
to believe that the same Parliament which has so
haughtily rejected the petition from Middlesex, will
listen to one from any other county ? If a petition to
the Crown be voted, so far you proceed in concert with
other places ; and it is no inconsistency to add, if that
should be thought proper, petitions also to the Houses of
Lords and Commons. I find that the people here
expect that the other counties in which your lordship's
friends have a powerful interest, should follow your
pattern with speed and vigour. Lancashire is by no
means wholly in the hands of Lord Strange, 1 so as to
prevent the exertion of a strong spirit there, as well as
in Liverpool and Lancaster ,* to say nothing of what
may be done in the city of York, Nottinghamshire,
Derbyshire, Cumberland, Westmoreland, &c., &c. It
grows very late, and I must set off for the little meeting
at the races early to-morrow. Whately is gone. Your
lordship will excuse the blots, the paper, the inaccura-
cies of every kind. I am just this moment ill-furnished
1 The eldest son of Edward, eleventh Earl of Derby.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM 65

with materials or time for writ-ing. I shall be -more
explicit on my return. In the meantime I am, with the
most real affection and attachment,

My dear lord,
Your ever obliged and obedient

humble servant,
EDM. BURKE.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF

B.OCEZNGKAM

Gregories, September, 1769.
MY DEAB LORD,

Our meeting was held yesterday ; the ostensible
particulars of which Lord Temple took care to transmit
immediately to the newspaper. I shall not, therefore,
trouble your lordship with them here. Very little pains
were taken to form a striking appearance on the day ;
however, it proved beyond expectation. Aubrey x was
the only person who seemed to have acted rightly ; he
came into the town on horseback at the head of sixy-
five freeholders. However, when we got into the town
hall it was quite full ; there were not fewer, I imagine,
than four hundred, many of them substantial people,
who came forward to the work with a good countenance
and an alacrity equal to that of the third regiment of
guards. 2 Everything had been done to traverse us ;
the terrors of the House of Commons were held over
many, and the word was : * The king will despise your
petitions, and then what will you do ? Will you go
into rebellion ? * &c,, &c. The Tories in general stayed
away. O'Brien, 3 in his speech, let fly at the Earl
of Bute, and was rather for giving a more Whiggish

1 Subsequently Sir John Aubrey, at one time Memlber of
Parliament for Wallingf ord.

2 Alluding to the employment of the military in
St. George's Fields, in the spring of the preceding year.

3 Probably Murrough O'Brien, Esq., afterwards Earl
of Inchiquin ; created in 1800, Marquis of Thomond. He
died in 1808.

237

60 EDMUND BURKE [1769

complexion to the meeting, than would be quite pru-
dent in a county where the others were so strong, and
in which some of them voted with us, though they did
not choose to appear on this occasion. But on the
whole he did very well. No Grenville, except George's
eldest son, 1 a very sensible boy, and as well disposed to
a little faction as any of his family. We were told we
should have had Harry Grenville, 2 but Lord Temple
found out that he was no freeholder in the county.
His lordship, after dinner, made an apology for
George's absence, declaring that he highly approved
the principles of the meeting, but thought he should be
able to defend it with the greater weight if he were not
present at it. This was awkward, and awkwardly
delivered. At the dinner it was thought necessary that
the gentlemen should not dine all together ; accord-
ingly, Lord Temple stayed at one house, and Lord
Verney and some more of us went to the other. In
order to preserve a harmony in our toasts, they sent
them to us from the house we had left, where they had
been devised. An attempt was made to insinuate
a great deal of Grenvilleism into the meeting. However,
something was done a little to balance it ; and a toast
that had been sent down in an improper mode, about
Yorkshire, was dressed by Aubrey and O'Brisn in
somewhat a better manner. What think you of the
three united brothers ? 3 The freeholders dined, as we
did all, at a market-ordinary, for which we paid our
shillings. Afterwards wine was given at the expense
of Lord V. and Lord T . The first part was neces-
sary, because the freeholders had been informed that
there was to be no treating : and they were to be
induced to come by the moderation of the expense.
The other was proper to conclude the day cheerfully,
and it had a very good effect. I take it the signature

1 George, afterwards tHrd Earl Temple, and first
Marquis of Buckingham.

a A brother of Lord Temple.

8 Lord Chatham, and his brothers by marriage, Lord
Temple and Mr. George Grenville.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 67

will be general. Above three hundred signed upon the
spat. We have not, I believe, two thousand m the

county. . . .

Believe ine, with the sincerest and most cordial
attachment, rny dear lord,

Your ever obedient and obliged
humble servant;

EDM. BITBKE.

EDMUND BTJBKE, ESQ., TO THE MAKQUIS OE
ROCKIFGHAM

Gregories, October 9, 1769.

MY DEAR LOKD,

Tommy Townshend called here on his return from
a tour to the westward. We had a good deal of in-
different with some political conversation. He talked,
as all the world does, of the union of the parties in
opposition as a thing very happy and very certain.
I threw out a good many doubts of the possibility of
a cordial or safe union for us under the direction of the
brothers, or of their ever consenting to act with us
under any other direction. Each of them had ambition
and pretensions enough when they were separate ;
united, their aims would certainly not be less, and their
demands would be higher and more plausible. He did
not see these difficulties in so strong a light as I did.
I hinted that the brothers, having proclaimed their
resolution to act together to the whole world, and in
the strongest terms (to say nothing of the other two),
we had not the least knowledge of the dispositions of
Lord Chatham, or of what he would have pass for his
dispositions, with regard to your lordship and your
connexion, and that past experience had informed
us of nothing but his enmity to your whole system of
men and opinions. He has had some conversation with
Lord Chatham, but seemed very reserved in delivering
au opinion on his sentiments, if, in reality, he has had
an opportunity of forming any. Lord Chatham, he

68 EDMUND BUBKE [1769

said, took every opportunity of speaking in the highest
terms of Sir Chas. Saunders and Admiral Keppel, not
only as great men in their profession, but as persons
of the greatest honour and integrity. The frequent
mention which was made of them, persuaded Towns-
hend that he wished them to take some opportunity
of paying him a visit, as it were to congratulate him on
the restoration of his health ; and that he desired it,
with a view of opening himself to them with more
fullness and confidence in relation to your party.
Townshend being a mutual friend, and having been
formerly an internuncio between you, I consider what
he said to him as an oblique message* He desired me
to communicate these conversations with Lord Chat-
ham ; I said I would to your lordship, but not to
Keppel and Saunders ; but told him that the better
way for him would be to call upon you himself, and to
talk over the matter, when your lordship should return
from Newmarket. Very possibly you have already seen
him, and have heard more than I relate. I take Towns-
hend to be a very honest and safe man, and yet, consider-
ing Ms connexion with Lord Chatham, perhaps I opened
to him my own political creed with too little reserve ;
however, I told him that they were only my private
sentiments, unauthorized by your lordship or any of
the principal persons in your connexion; indeed, they
were perhaps more than it would be prudent for any
person of weight to deliver to any other than very
confidential people just at this moment; and yet
I foresee that it will be necessary to declare something
like them strongly and openly. But at this minute
your lordship has, undoubtedly, a very delicate game
to play, in which you cannot disavow this supposed
union without giving great advantages to the common
enemy ; or admit too much of it, without the risk of
putting yourself in the power of your allies, on the one
hand, or giving them a pretence to charge you with
breach of faith, on the other. I beg to put your lordship
in mind of little Stuart, in his pursuit of the secretary-
ship to the arts and commerce. When I showed his

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKMGHAM 69

letter to Sir George Savile., 1 at Doncaster, I had no
answer. I hope he is not engaged. The Quarmes are
members. If your lordship should desire me to come
to London, I have nothing to prevent it. I am, with
the greatest truth, my dear lord,

Your ever obliged and obedient
humble servant,
EDM. BUBKE.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQUIS or

BUCKINGHAM

1769.

MY BEAB LOED,

I send you a good part of what I have been medi-
tating about the system of the court, and which you
were so earnest to see carried into execution. 2 I thought
it better to let you see what was finished, rather than
to postpone it until the whole was completed. The
design appears distinctly enough, from what has been
done. If you and your friends approve of it, you will
be so good to send it back, with your observations, as
soon as possible, that it may go to the press ; when
I have got through the concluding part, you shall have
that also, and on its return, it shall follow the rest.

It will be a matter very proper for the consideration
of your lordship and your friends, whether a thing
of this nature should appear at all. It is, in the first
place, a formal attack upon that object which has been
nearest and dearest to the court since the beginning
of the reign ; and of course, if this thing should be
supposed to express your sentiments, must put you
on terms irreconcilably bad with the court and every
one of its adherents. I foresee, at the same time, that
the other bodies who compose the opposition, will
desire c not to be comprehended in these declarations ',

1 Member for Yorkshire, and a distinguished supporter
of the Rockingharn party.

2 The pamphlet published in the next year under the
title of Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discontents.

70 EDMUND BURKE [1769

as G t G. said, upon such an occasion, two years
ago, so that you irritate, past forgiveness, the court
party, and you do not conciliate all the opposi-
tion. Besides, I axn very far from confident, that the
doctrines avowed in this piece (though as clear to me
as first principles) will be considered as well founded,
or that they will be at all popular. If so, we lose upon
every side.

As to myself, I am indifferent about the event.
Only, for my credit, (as I fear from some particular
opinions, and from this extensive previous communica-
tion, I shall be considered as the author,) I wish, that
if our friends approve the design, I may have some
tolerable support in Parliament, from ths innumerable
attacks it will bring upon me. If this be successful
with the public, I shall have enough of odium ; I could
wish it a little divided, if the sentiments should belong
to others as well as to myself ; for it is upon this
presumption, and with this view only, that I mean to
publish. In order that it should be truly the common
cause, make it at your meeting what you please. Let
me know what ought to be left out, what softened,
and what strengthened. On reading it to Will, and
Dick, they thought some things a little too ludicrous.
I thought much otherwise, for I could rather wish
that more had occurred to me (as more would, had
my spirits been high), for I know how ill a -long detail
of politics, not animated by a direct controversy,
wants every kind of help to make it tolerable.

The whole is, in a manner, new cast, something
to the prejudice of the order, which, if I can, I will
rectify, though I fear this will be difficult. The former
scheme would no ways answer, and I wish I had
entirely thrown it aside, as it has embarrassed me
a good deal. The whole attack on Pitt's conduct must
be omitted, or we shall draw the cry of the world upon
as, as if we meant directly to quarrel with all mankind.

My brother x is ordered to Grenada, though his 3eg

1 Mr, Richard Burke.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 71

is not yet in a condition, as his surgeons tell Mm, and
as he feels, to conflict with that climate. If he goes,
he goes I fear to death ; if he stays, he loses Ms place,
with the mortifying circumstance of accommodating
an enemy. This is not pleasant to me.

You will present my compliments to your company,
with whom, though absent, I am present in spirit ;
I am, to them and to your lordship, what ever I ought
to be, most sincerely and affectionately your attached
and obedient humble servant,

EDM, BURKE,

I forgot to mention an application to me from a Mr,
Tyson on the part of a Mr. Mackinnon, a gentleman
of Antigua, of considerable fortune, who lives at
Southampton. He has some notion of attacking the
members there, and has sent this Mr. Tyson to declare
his attachment to your lordship's interests in politics.
As I must understand his intention, I told Mm (hat
your lordship's friends had resolved, as a general
maxim, on not promising an election support, in a par-
liamentary character, to any person directly or in-
directly ; this, as strong as I could. I have since been
desired to know what your lordship's answer is. May
I venture, from you, to repeat what I told him, as
a general principle of the party ?

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS or
ROCKINGHAM

Gregories, Sunday, October 29, 1769.

MY DEAR LOED,

I am infinitely obliged to your lordship for your long
and satisfactory letter, which I concealed or com-
municated in the manner I thought most agreeable
to your wishes, I found Lord Albemarle had not
received the copy your lordship intended for him;
I therefore showed him mine, and let Mason make
a copy of it for Keppel and Saunders, when tl*ey
should come to town. I showed it, besides, to Lord J.

72 EDMUND BURKE [1769

Cavendish and Lord Frederick. They all concurred very
nearly in sentiment with your lordship, upon every
particular. There was some doubt, whether our two
friends ought not to pay the visit which, it seems, is
desired, in order to hear at least what style he 1 uses,
and what sentiments he would be believed to entef tain ;
but they will do nothing without your desire. For nay
own part, the more I think of it, the more perfectly
I am convinced that we ought to take no sort of notice
of him, but to proceed exactly as if no such man
existed in the world. For though, according to Lord
Camden's phrase, Lord Chatham has had a wonderful
resurrection to health, his resurrection to credit and
consequence, and to the power of doing mischief
(without which last his resurrection will be incomplete),
must be owing to your lordship and your friends.
It ought never to be forgotten, how much the late
Duke of Newcastle hurt himself, in his interest very
often, in his reputation almost always, by his itch of
negotiation. If Lord C. has anything to communicate
to these gentlemen, he may send for them. This union
of the three brothers will distract the country as much
in future as their dissensions did formerly. I quite
agree with your lordship, that Grenville is the most
temperate and manageable of the three ; but he is no
longer George Grenville, a disengaged individual, but
one of the triumvirate, to whom, by the way, he brings
all the following that they possess. Nothing can be
said of him, but what can be said, with equal truth,
of the other two, from whom, I really believe, he will
never disconnect himself. All these considerations
make me wish, as ardently as your lordship's partiality
can do, that my little scheme was in a way of being
speedily completed. I see, I feel, the necessity of
justifying to our friends and to the world, the refusal,
which is inevitable, of what will be thought very-
advantageous offers. This can only be done by
showing the ground upon which the party stands, and
how different its constitution, as well as the persons
1 Lord Chatham.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 7

who compose it, are from the Bedfords, and Grenvilles,
and other knots, who are combined for no public
purpose, but only as a means of furthering, with joint
strength, their private and individual advantage. I am
afraid I shall never compass this design to my mind.
Hitherto I have been so variously distracted, that
I have made but little progress, indeed none ; but
to-day I began to set to work a little seriously. But,
in order to produce something which, by being timely,
may be useful, I must beg to be excused from going to
Yorkshire in the next month. This would break me
to pieces, and I think I may do more service here.
Perhaps I may be able to send something for your
consideration at that meeting.

Your lordship's conversation with the king's friend
was curious. I can be at no loss for the person. I am
told he talks very loud opposition ; but let him, or the
rest of his corps, talk what language they will, it will,
translated into plain English, signify nothing but
a, repetition of the old system ; nor can it be thought
that by sending for Lord Chatham, they mean any-
thing else than to patch a shred or two, of one or more
of the other parties, upon the old Bute garment, since
their last piecing is worn out. If they had been
dissatisfied with the last botching of Lord Chatham,
they would not have thought again of the same work-
man. Perhaps, for that reason (if anything of the
kind is worth a second thought), it might be as well
not to suggest anything of our dislike of that person
to any one of the sacred band : as their opinion of our
disunion will rather fortify the court In its resolution
of employing him in the formation of another of their
expedient administrations. Indeed, as far as I can
guess at their designs, by the discourses of last winter,
or the beginning of summer (for lately I have heard
nothing), they had no one point at heart but the
perpetual exclusion of your lordship, and your whole
system. Therefore, any look towards courts or
courtiers, their liking or their displeasure, can be no
plan for us. I am infinitely pleased with the resolution
D 3

74 EDMUND BURKE [1769

in Derbyshire ; not so much for the addition of the
voice of that county, but as its silence would, and
indeed did, look like a renunciation of the conduct held
in other places. I have no kind of doubt of a sufficient
majority in Lancashire against all the interest and all
the efforts of Lord Strange. The difficulty will be in
the calling of the meeting : but I should think that
half a dozen principal gentlemen would be sufficient ;
and the trading and manufacturing towns would do
the rest. Besides, I take it for granted, that our
friends, Sir IT. Standish and Sir Peter Lyster, would
exert themselves. I see, by the paper, that something
is likely to be stirred in Lincolnshire. Your lordship,
no doubt, recollects how necessary the co-operation of
Lord Scarborough and Lord Monson will be, to the
success of a petition there. Nothing, as yet, of Notting-
ham ; Cumberland likewise sleeps. Is it not most
certain, that the latter county might be easily brought
into a petition on the Duke of Portland's giving it his
countenance ?

Since I began this letter, which was two or three
days ago, I have done something, not wholly to dis-
please myself, in the beginning of the pamphlet. It
was necessary to change it wholly from the manner
in which you saw it ; and I think the change has not
been for the worse. Unluckily, I am broke off from it
for about a week. Lord Verney seems a little hurt
that I have not been to see him. I shall go to him
to-morrow, and stay till Saturday. While I am there,
I propose to pay a visit at Stowe. Not coming directly
from Yorkshire, it will have no appearance of a political
advance : and not shunning the visit, will not look
as if a hostile air was meant to be preserved, if the
conversation should veer, as it must, towards politics.
This is the line I intend to preserve to the best of my
power. There has been much talk of the chancellor l ;
his opinions, dispositions, going out, or staying in ;
but for my part, I look upon it all in the usual strain,
of distressing the ministers into some bargain advan-
1 Lord Camden.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 75

tageous to him ; or in the style of Lord Chatham's
politics 9 to keep hovering in air, over all parties, and
to souse down where the prey may prove best. It is
thought Wilmot * will be chosen to succeed him, if they
cannot make up matters among themselves ; and
I think they have it in their power to make it worth
his while to accept. I long to hear how they go on in
Ireland, and imagine I shall soon have a good account :
if I should learn anything satisfactory, your lordship
shall have it in a short time, Stuart will, I hope,
succeed in his little pursuit. He has been a great
attender on that society ; but if he had never set his
foot within their doors, he has but too much abilities
for their paltry business. I heard, accidentally,
a report which gave me much concern, of your lordship
being ill, and confined to your bed ; but being informed
it was nothing more than a boil, and knowing what
good effects such eruptions have on your health, I was
at length rather pleased. I beg leave to present my
respects to Lady Rockmgham. Believe me, my dear
lord, with the greatest truth and affection,

Your ever obedient and obliged humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

I have just received George Grenville's speech, which
I send to your lordship. It is not yet published.

EDMUND BUBKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
ROCKHSTGHAM

Beaconsfield, November 6, 1769.
MY DEAR LORD,

Will. Burke and I spent the best part of last week
with Lord Verney, and in a manner much to our
satisfaction. We paid a morning visit to Stowe, where
we found Lord Temple alone. We passed about three
hours in the gardens. I was prepared to find them
grand and extensive, but insipid ; however, it turned

1 Sir John Eardley Wilmot, Chief Justice of the Common

Pleas.

76 EDMUND BURKE [1769

out otherwise. I thought many parts very interesting,
and the whole as well managed as one could expect,
from grounds which had been improved upon two very
different ideas ; and where the revolution of taste had
signalized itself upon the same objects. Be they what
they may, it was impossible that the gardens or
gardening should engross us entirely during our walk.
We had a great deal of political conversation. He
was in good humour, and his manner was fair and open.
Without seeming offended, the turn of his discourse
indicated at times that he had heard of your lordship,
and your friends, expressing a disrelish to their junto,
though he did not speak out upon it so clearly, as to
make me quite satisfied that this was his meaning,
He said that as we had got to see one another, and to
act together, he hoped there would be no retrospect,
no charge, and no recrimination. That we had done
each other a thousand acts of unkindness ; let us make
amends by a thousand acts of friendship. He was of
opinion that, let what would happen, the great point
for us, and the country, would be, to get rid of the
present administration, which could only be effected
by the appearance of union and confidence. He said,
and he repeated it, that, to be sure, there was no
treaty, expressed or implied, to bind the parties in
honour to one another, or to any measure, except the
establishment of the rights of the freeholders. In
everything else, we were both free : c we were both
free to play the fool as much as we pleased, mark that.'
He said these last words with a good deal of emphasis.
Lord Chatham, he told us, was exceedingly animated
against the Ministry. He was uneasy that the meeting
of Parliament was postponed ; lest a fit of the gout
should intervene, though no moderate fit should keep
Mm from the House of Peers on the first day of the
session. His opinion is, that the affair of the Middlesex
election should be taken up in that house, as well as
the House of Commons. I can draw no certain infer-
ence from the last part of our discourse with Lord
Temple, as it was rather in a matter of general specula-

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 77

tion, than the business of the day. We talked of the
court system, and their scheme of having dependent
administrations. I spoke of this as the reigning evil ;
and particularly mentioned the favourite idea, of
a king's making a separate party for himself. He said
this latter did not seem so bad a thing, if Lord Bute
had not spoiled it. I said I thought it was mischievous.,
whether Lord Bute had a hand in it or not, and equally
so. He contented himself with repeating his observa-
tion, as I did by repeating mine, and we said no more
upon this subject. On the whole, I was glad to find
that we understood one another thoroughly, on the
nature and extent of our coalition ; which once being
mutually explained, will not render it necessary to say
anything upon it publicly, so as to give an advantage
against us to the common enemy. I forgot to mention
anything to your lordship on the revolution in the
India House. Indeed, I do not wonder that I should,
the misfortunes which my friends have met with there,
make it a subject on which I do not like to turn my
thoughts. Sullivan has gone over to the court. When
I was told this, I said to my informer, as I do to your
lordship, that I could not blame him. His consequence
in the India House is much more material to him than
his rank in Parliament ; and as the whole opposition,
in a manner, disclaimed and persecuted Mm, what tie
bound him from disclaiming them, and looking for
support wherever he could find it ? How he has
arranged with Lord Shelburne, with whom he was
generally supposed in connexion, I know not ; but
nobody else had any claim upon him. Neither Lord
Olive's conduct in the Grenville administration, nor the
attachment he has chosen since, put him one bit higher
with me ; indeed, he has not so much to be said in his
favour. As to Sir George Colebrooke, he is just what
I always thought him. He has shown himself even
an enemy to poor Thibot Bourke ; but in the present
circumstances, his conduct is natural to people of his
constitution, and we must submit to it. I turn rather
to a better subject, which this brings to my mind.

78 EDMUND BURKE [1769

It is Dempster's conduct on the occasion. He thought,
as I do, about Sullivan's coalition. He told him that
it should make no difference in his line in the India
House ; that there he would as firmly stand by him,
as he would continue to oppose his new friends in
Parliament ; that his political connexion was with
your lordship only, and would always be so, but that
if Mr. Sullivan should find that course of conduct
prejudicial to his interests in Leadenhall Street, that
he woulct, at an hour's notice, disqualify for the
directorship. This was what I expected from Dempster,
in an affair like this ; not to sacrifice one duty to
another, but to keep both if possible, if not, to put it
out of his power to violate the principal.

When I got home I returned to my business, which
I did not quite neglect whilst 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 appear to me
self-evident propositions, the conduct and pretences
of people oblige one formally to prove ; and this seems
to me, and to others, a dull and needless labour.
However, a good deal of it will be soon ready, and you
may dispose of it as you please. It will, I am afraid,
be long. On my coming home I found, by woful
experience, that one of the news-printers has got
a country-house at Beaconsfield. The old man that
milks my cows and the old dairy-maid had married,
and he has made a flaming paragraph of it. I suppose
I shall be the subject of news enough, if this be the
case. But I have sent a formal message, to beg
myself off in the particular of my family here. I do
not hear a word of news worth your notice. The
speech I enclosed to you in my last 1 is to be the subject
of some animadversions from Wilkes. This, I am told,
is a half-secret. I am sorry, just now, that he should
abuse him ; for if it be well done, the ministry will
triumph ; if ill, Wilkes will lower himself, which will
please them no less ; besides, it may be thought that
1 A printed speech of Mr. George Grenville.

1769] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 79

he is encouraged by me, or some of your lordship's
friends. Will, takes this to town, whither he goes to
correct the sheets of Dowdeswell's pamphlet. I have,
I believe, tired you ; and so shall take my leave, by
assuring you that I am, with the most cordial attach-

ment ' My dear lord,

Your ever obliged and obedient
humble servant,
EDM. BTJRKE.

I hope the Lord Cavendishes have taken care to
secure a full meeting at Derby. It will be very
awkward if they should have neglected this essential
step. Dowdeswell has desired me to go to Yorkshire
with him on the 13th. I foresee, that if I do, this
business of mine will come to nothing, so I think I must
decline it, for I really think something of the sort
wanting ; besides, we are to present the petition on
Friday se'nnight. Your lordship will be so good as to
present Mrs. Burke's and my respects to Lady Rock-
ingham.

EDMUND BTJRKE, ESQ., TO RICHARD SHACKLETON

August 15, 1770,
MY DEAR SHACKLETON,

My wife has had a very long illness ; it was a slow
fever, with frequent appearances of amendment and
frequent relapses. She was confined to her bed for
above two months, and reduced in strength and in
flesh beyond anything that can be imagined. But,
I thank God, she is now up again, in good spirits, and
getting forward in strength as fast as can be expected
from the miserable lowness into which she was fallen.
As to poor Richard, he is, I hope, by this safe in
Grenada. His health was not very good, and the
strength of his broken leg by no means thoroughly
restored at his departure. But he was to look for no
favour or indulgence from our present rulers, who even
attempted to take his employment from him ; but in

80 EDMUND BURKE [1770

this lesser, as in many greater instances of their
malignity, they defeated their own purpose by the
bungling method of the execution ; and from shame,
they found themselves obliged to restore him to his
office, but under strict orders for departure, notwith-
standing the testimony of the king's surgeon concerning
the state of his leg. I think we may hear from him
about the end of this month or early in the next.
He goes into a bad climate, among worthless and
disagreeable people ; but I hope the goodness of
Providence, in his favour, is not yet exhausted. How-
ever he may partake of my own inattention in writing,
I do assure you he never failed to remember you with
the sincerest affection. I am glad that you find some
entertainment in the * Thoughts '. They have had,
in general (I flatter myself), the approbation of the
most thinking part of the people, and the courtiers
admit that the hostility has not been illiberal. The
party which is most displeased, is a rotten subdivision
of a faction amongst ourselves, who have done us
infinite mischief by the violence, rashness, and often
wickedness of their measures. I mean the Bill-of-
Rights people ; 1 but who have thought proper at
length to do us, I hope, a service, by declaring open
war upon all our connexion. Mrs. Macaulay's per-
formance was what I expected ; there are, however,
none of that set who can do better ; the Amazon is the
greatest champion among them. Mrs. Shackleton is
very stout in daring to encounter her ; but she would
find herself unequal, for no heroine in Billingsgate can
go beyond the patriotic scolding of our republican
virago. You see I have been afraid to answer her.
As to our affairs, they remain as they have been ; the
people, in general, dissatisfied ; the Government feeble,
hated, and insulted : but a dread of pushing things to
a dangerous extreme, wlu'le we are seeking for a remedy
1 The society styled Supporters of the Bill of Rights '
was established in February, 1769, by Wilkes, Sergeant
Glynn, Alderman Sawbridge, and other persons, for the
most part connected with the city of London.

1770] TO RICHARD SHACKLETON 81

to distempers which all confess, brings many to the
support, and most to a sort of ill-humoured acquies-
cence, in the present court scheme of administration.
As to our friends, we continue our old ground ; a good
harmony subsists, at least in appearance, between the
capital members of opposition. Lord Chatham behaved
handsomely in rejecting the idea of a triennial Parlia-
ment, which the jury of London, at the instigation of
the Bill-of-Rights men, thought proper to fasten upon
him in order to slur us, and to get some name of
consequence to patronize their madness. I suppose
you have seen his answer in the papers. Indeed, the
idea of short parliaments is, I confess, plausible
enough ; so is the idea of an election by ballot ; but
I believe neither will stand their ground when entered
into minutely, and with a reference to actually existing
circumstances. If no remedy can be found in the
dispositions of capital people, in the temper, spirit
(and docility too) of the lower, and in the thorough
union of both, nothing can be done by any alterations
in forms. Indeed, all that wise men even aim at is to
keep things from coming to the worst. Those who
expect perfect reformations, either deceive or are
deceived miserably. Adieu, dear Shackleton. Re-
member Mrs. Burke, and all of us, with much regard to
your wife and your father ; and believe me,

Most faithfully yours,

EDM. BUEKE.

EDMUND BTTBKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQTJIS OF
ROCKINGHAM

Gregories, September 8, 1770.

MY DEAR LOBD,

Yesterday Mr. Bullock was elected, without opposi-
tion, for Wendover. Mr. Collins left the place early
that morning without standing the poll ; after having
made fruitless efforts for some days before. By this
feeble attempt, I hope the borough is more and
more confirmed to Lord Verney ; and a few common

82 EDMUND BURKE [1770

arrangements will, I trust, be sufficient to keep it so.
I wish your lordship joy of another friend in Parlia-
ment. The event of this election has removed no small
burden from my mind.

I have been informed by the St. James's Chronicle,
that the gentlemen of Yorkshire are determined upon
a meeting. The advertisement is signed respectably.
The circumstance of the sheriff's refusal to concur,
seems rather fortunate. It gives an opportunity to
show how strongly the sense of the weightiest people
of the county inclined against the court doctrine of
election and reprobation. I make no doubt that your
plan will be judiciously settled, and spiritedly pursued.
If no step at all had been taken during the summer, I
should be apprehensive that such a stagnation would
have been little less than fatal to the cause. The
people were very much and very generally touched
with the question on Middlesex. They feel upon this,
but upon no other ground of our opposition. We never
have had, and we never shall have, a matter every way
so well calculated to engage them, and if the spirit
which was excited upon this occasion were suffered to
flatten and evaporate, you would find it difficult to
collect it again, when you might have the greatest
occasion for it. Opposition is upon narrow and delicate
ground, especially that part of opposition which acts
with your lordship ; you and your friends having
exceedingly contracted the field of operation upon
principles of delicacy, which will in the end be found
wise, as well as honourable. However, the scantiness
of the ground makes it the more necessary to cultivate
it with vigour and diligence, else the rule of exiguum
colito will neither be good farming, nor good politics.

I do not take the liberty of throwing out these hints,
from any opinion that it is necessary to use extra-
ordinary means to keep the spirit alive in Yorkshire,
but from a strong conviction of the propriety at least
of extending it to other places, and among other
interests, who have hitherto acted with you in this
point. People will be apt to attribute a want of com-

1770] TO THE MARQUIS OF EOCKINGHAM 83

raunication to one of these two causes ; either that
the business was undertaken in Yorkshire, and carried
contrary to your lordship's wishes, or that your confi-
dence is entirely alienated from your political con-
federates. The former, I take it for granted, cannot
be true, and if it were, cannot in policy be assigned as
the ground of your reserve. The latter, when you
have no complaint to make of the other parts of opposi-
tion, might be considered as a style of proceeding less
fair than has been usual with your lordship, and would
give them the more colourable pretence of complaint,
as it is known that the first proposal for a coalition in
this business came from your lordship through Mr.
Dowdeswell ; and however you might be supposed free
to show what reserve or confidence you pleased upon
other matters, they would think that they had little
less than an actual right to expect communication in
all steps relative to the Middlesex decision. If it
should be thought proper that other parts should follow
the example of Yorkshire, this communication would
become the more necessary, that time and means
might be furnished for proper dispositions. If your
lordship should think it right to let the matter rest
upon the Yorkshire proceeding, people may be desirous
of knowing the grounds upon which it went so far, and
yet was to be carried no further. I am informed that
the idea entertained in Yorkshire is, that of an instrac-
ti 8 0n to the county members. To me it appears that
every objection which lay to that method last year
exists, with at least equal power, in the present. I say
this on a supposition that I have a right idea of the
plan of the instructions. A motion to be made in
Parliament for censuring those who advised the king
not to listen to complaints against that identical
Parliament itself ! What arguments could be used in
support of such a motion ? It really appears to me
with a very unparliamentary air. If indeed the
members should be instructed to move a Bill for
rescinding that obnoxious judgement, and providing
in future for the right of election, and if such a Bill

84 EDMUND BURKE [1770

should not be carried, to decline a further attendance
on Parliament, this would have a more practicable
aspect, in the former part of it, and some appearance
of spirit and energy in the latter. The other plan could
only appear intended for the purpose of a day's angry
debate, and that, in my humble opinion, but upon
very indifferent ground. I have gone further than I
intended in a matter, in which I am but indirectly
concerned, and of which I am but an indifferent judge ;
but your lordship has often, with great goodness, borne
the imprudent officiousness of my zeal. Just as I had
written thus far, your lordship's messenger brought me
your very obliging letter, which gave me some insight
into matters on which I was a good deal in the dark.
If it were a certain thing, that a concurrence would be
had among gentlemen to retire from Parliament, and
to take the sense of their counties upon the subject of
that rash ministerial boasting (which your lordship
very judiciously takes it for granted would be used),
to be sure, your plan would revive, much more effec-
tually than that of your friends in Yorkshire, the
spirit which, for some time past, seems to have been
decaying in every part of the kingdom. But the doubt
is, whether the precedent languor would not have
communicated itself from the county to the Parlia-
ment, and to every member of it ; I mean to those
county members, or to most of those, who act in your
system. Possibly what is done in Yorkshire may, when
objected to as a partial movement, be still a method oi
bringing things about in a manner agreeable to your
lordship's original ideas.

Lord Temple was not at the races Lady Temple
had been taken ill in Dorsetshire. I did not go to these
races. I saw Aubrey, who very civilly came to us at
our election at Wendover. He told me that Lord
Temple rather thought a meeting unadvisable ; but
that he would take a hearty part in promoting one,
provided Lord Verney and we were of a different
opinion. I wished Aubrey to inform Lord Temple,
that in a business of so much delicacy, and where such

1770] TO THE MAEQUIS OF EOCKINGHAM 85

a variety of interests were concerned, no step ought
to be taken from complaisance to anybody, but from
a full and unanimous sense of the prudence and expe-
diency of the measure. Lord Verney agreed to this.,
though he is much for stirring something. I just saw
Charles Lowndes at the same place, who likewise came
with the same kmd intentions. He is a right man, and,
I make no doubt, much yours.

I have seen but few people this summer. Among
those few, were some of the courtiers. The court is
fully resolved to adhere to its present system. ; but
that if, contrary to their expectation, it should be found
impossible to go on with the present instruments, they
wiU send to Lord Chatham, not to your lordship or the
Grenvilles. They are well acquainted with the differ-
ence between the Bill of Rights and your lordship's
friends, and they are very insolently rejoiced at it.
They respect and fear that wretched knot beyond any-
thing you can readily imagine, and far more than any
part, or than all the other parts of the opposition. The
reason is plain : there is a vast resemblance of character
between them. They feel that, if they had equal spirit
and industry, they would, in the same situation, act
the very same part. It is their idea of a perfect opposi-
tion. Will. Burke has seen Lord John Cavendish in
town. His lordship is of opinion that some further
explanation of the common sentiments of the party
would be advisable. Perhaps it may; but I must
talk a great deal to you, as well as to him, before I
attempt it. It is a business of great delicacy of
infinite delicacy. It is not here a matter of account
and calculation not of a custom-house, and treasury,
and counting-house ; but a talk of liberty and popu-
larity, in which nonsense will always double-distance
the utmost speed of experience and reason. How well
these villains deserve the gallows for their playing the
court-game against us at this season i I had a short
note from the Duke of Manchester ; Lord Mayor wishes
to see me. I take it for granted, it is to know whether
you would have anything done in the city. I must beg

86 EDMUND BURKE [1770

some immediate advice from your lordship. The great
difficulty will be, to prevent the traitors from bringing
in speculative questions to supplant our business.
I wish, for the moment, what I never wished before
that I was a freeman of London.

I will write to Dowdeswell ; and, if possible, I will
be with your lordship at the time you mention. Will.
Burke has seen Mtzherbert, who teHs him that Parlia-
ment will not meet in November. Charles Fox thinks
it will. Which is- the best authority ? I am sorry to
hear of the very variable state of Lady Rockingham's
health. I hope the settled autumn which seems coming
on will be of service to her. Mrs. Burke is coming on
tolerably in strength, considering the length and heavi-
ness of her disorder.

I forgot to mention that Lord Chatham has been
three days at George Grenville's. He went through
Wendover, on his return, the day of election. Be so
good as to present Mrs. Burke's, and my humble duty,
to Lady Rockingham. Believe me to be, with the
greatest truth and attachment, my dear lord,

Your lordship's most affectionate and obliged

humble servant,
* EDM. BITKKE.

EDMUND BUBKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUES OF
ROCKINGHAM

Beaconsfield, September 23, 1770.
MY DEAB LORD,

I despair of being able to wait upon you this summer
in Yorkshire. I believe that, just now, the attempt
would be to little purpose. I take it for granted that
you will be* at Newmarket very shortly. If, in the
interval between the meetings, your lordship should
come to town, or should wish me to go to Newmarket,
or to meet you at your house in Northamptonshire, the
ride to the furthest of these places is not very long. I
propose to set out on a tour which will carry me towards
Mr. Dowdeswell's. If your lordship would have a con-

1770] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGEAM 87

cihabuhtm, he would, I dare say, be ready to make one
at your place of appointment. I saw the lord mayor
a day or two ago. He seemed strongly convinced of
the necessity of doing something to remove the ill
impressions which were made by the unfortunate
candour of one ill-timed speech. He is certainly a man
of strong principle and of good natural sense, but his
experience in the world is but moderate. There was a
fine opportunity lost (the finest in the world) of taking
the city out of the worst hands in the world, and of
putting it into good ones. I "suppose the Duke of
Manchester has given you a full account of our first
conversation, so that I shall only trouble your lordship
with the substance of the last. He had not seen Lord
Chatham ; but he is determined to speak to Mm before
he calls any meeting of the common council or the
livery. This is certainly right ; and I think he is equally
right in the style in which he proposes to speak upon
the subject. Though he has not seen Lord Chatham,
he could easily guess by a conversation he had had with
Sawbridge, how Lord C. is disposed. His lordship is
earnest that something should be undertaken, but not
until the proceedings m Yorkshire are known. It
agrees with our idea of taking up the two points of the
right of election, and the bringing evil counsellors to
justice ; but would have something added concerning
verdicts and juries. This is, I dare say, by far the
most favourite point with Lord Chatham ; partly from
political views, and partly from his personal animosity
to Lord Mansfield. But as the gratification of this
animosity and the compassing of those political
purposes, are much more his affair than your lordship's,
I did all in my power to possess our friend with the
absolute necessity of declining to engage in any matter
of law, however specious, until we should have an
opportunity of consulting those of the profession who
act with your lordship. I said that the matter was of
so much weight, and those gentlemen of that conse-
quence and character, that it would neither be dignified
in the party, nor respectful to your law Mends, to

88 EDMUND BURKE [1770

engage rashly, and without consultation, in points of
such delicacy ; especially as it was the characteristic
of your lordship and your friends, never to take up
anything as a grievance when you did not mean in
good earnest to have it reformed. He came into these
ideas very fully. With regard to the instruction, he
says, that he finds it objected to as a feeble and languid
measure, preposterously succeeding others of infinitely
greater vigour. To be sure, this is one of the obvious
evil effects of the violence and precipitation, to call
them by no worse names, of some of our late allies, who
destroyed the series of all regular operation by begin-
ning with the extremes. However, so the fact is ;
languor following this violence will be as irregular and
as ill-timed as the violence itself, and would be, to all
appearance, as injudicious, with less excuse from
fervency of spirit. The solution which he proposed was,
to add to the first instruction concerning the right of
election, a desire that in case the House should perse-
vere in refusing to satisfy the electors upon that subject,
their members might discontinue their attendance in
Parliament. Not knowing your lordship's intentions,
I did not undertake to propose that measure ; at the
same time, as it coincided entirely with my invariable
opinion, confirmed by everything that happens, I could
by no means think of opposing it. I suppose your
lordship has heard that the * Society of the Bill of
Rights ' is hastening to its dissolution : sit iUi terra levis*
I say nothing, because I hear nothing certain of the
cause of their violent warlike preparations. 1 In the
midst of all this tempest the ministers, I am told, seem
much at their ease ; they are much out of town, and
everything goes on in a vast hurry without any method
or arrangement. Why they have taken these steps, I
know not ; but I am strongly of opinion, that they do
not portend a war, at least, unless the report be true,
that a French squadron has sailed into the Axchipelago.
I have lately read a good part, not the whole, of a
1 Occasioned by the dispute with Spain, on the subject
of Falkland's Islands.

1770] TO THE MARQUIS OF EOCKINGHAM 89

pamphlet on the late verdicts. It is called * a Letter
to Almon '. They give it to Lord Camden. If it be
his, I think his rancour far outran his judgement.
Though there are good hits in it, and some part, as I
imagine, very sound doctrine, he would certainly have
answered his purpose much better if he had shown less
malevolence and personal enmity in the cause. Has
your lordship yet seen it ? I wait with impatience the
result of the Yorkshire meeting. I hope my Lady
Buckingham's health is restored, and that your lord-
ship's continues. All here are well, thank God 1 With
great truth and attachment, I am, my dear lord,
Your ever obedient and obliged friend and
humble servant,

EBM. BUHKE.

EDMUND BTTBKE, ESQ., TO ABTHUB YOTTNG, Esq. 1

Beaeonafidd, October 21, 1770.
SIB,

I am sure you will have the goodness to excuse the
trouble I am going to give you ; and to which your
knowledge and your communicative character must
necessarily make you subject.

When I had the pleasure of seeing you last year, 1
told you that I had sown about an acre of carrots for
a trial. My soil is gravelly-loam, tolerably deep, but,
in some places, a little stiff. As the seed was sown late,
the ground not very well prepared, and the year in
general, I am told, not favourable to that vegetable,
my crop was but indifferent. So far with regard to the
husbandry of that article : with regard to the eco-
nomy, the success was worse. I attempted to fatten
two middle-sized bacon-hogs with carrots ; after
having been two months, or near the matter, in the
sty, I found, that as they were young, they had grown
pretty considerably, but continued as lean as when I
put them up. I was obliged to have recourse to barley-
meal, and in a short time they became as fat as I could
1 The celebrated agriculturist.

90 EDMUND BURKE [1770

wish, though, to all appearance, no way helped by the
previous use of carrots.

He is but a poor husbandman, who is discouraged
by one year's ill-success, where he acts upon good
authority or pursues a rational principle. Last spring,
I sowed two acres with the same seed. The ground
had received a year's fallow, one good trench-ploughing,
and two or three turnings, in the common way ; it was
dunged early in the winter, so that the earth was
pretty well pulverized, and the dung thoroughly rotted
and mixed, by the spring. In the summer they were
twice hand-hoed, I fear not suniciently, but the crop
is very large, and the carrots, though not so sightly as
the sand carrots, full as rich in colour, or, indeed,
rather higher and finer ; a most aromatic smell, firm,
and admirably tasted. I have sent two wagon-loads
to London, for which I had six pounds, fifteen. The
back-carriage of coal-ashes has paid my charges. I
take it that the crop is, notwithstanding the many and
heavy expenses attending it, better than a crop of
wheat, according to the usual product of this part of
the country. So far I am satisfied. Now comes the
domestic use. Somewhat more than a fortnight ago,
I put up two porkers of the Kensington breed. They
have not made the smallest progress on the boiled
carrots, with which they have been fed very plentifully.
Last year, the bailiff attributed the failure to the carrots
having been over-boiled ; this year they have been
boiled less ; hitherto the event has been the same. The
price of barley and peas is this year so high, that I
should wish to persevere, if there was the least chance
for succeeding; as I have a very great quantity of
carrots, and the London market will take off only those
which have a handsome appearance. Now, Sir, let
me beg that you will be so obliging as to point out
what degree of boiling the carrots ought to have, or
where you may suspect that my error lies. The year
is so far advanced, that I scarce dare to beg the favour
of seeing you here. I have had a very uneasy summer,
from a long illness of Mrs. Burke, or I should have

1770] TO AETHUB YOUNG 91

endeavoured at that honour before. Once more I
request your pardon for this trouble ; and am, with
great truth and esteem, Sir,

Your most obliged and obedient humble servant,

EDM. BTJBKE.

I am to tell you, that whilst I failed in fattening by
carrots, I have this year killed one fine porker of 20 Ib.
the quarter, and two of sixteen each. From barley-
meal, each fattened perfectly, in little more than
three weeks.

EDMUND BUBKE, ESQ., TO CHARLES TOWNSHEKD, ESQ.

October 17, 1771.
DEAR Sm,

I am much obliged to you for the kind part you have
taken, on the report of our friend Mtzherbert's con-
versation about the author of Junius. You have done
it in a' manner that is just to me, and delicate to both
of us. I am indeed extremely ready to believe, that
he has had no share in circulating an opinion so very
injurious to me, as that I am capable of treating the
character of my friends, and even my own character,
with levity, in order to be able to attack that of others
with the less suspicion. When I have anything to
object to persons in power, they know very well, that
I use no sort of managements towards them, except
those which every honest man owes to Ms own dignity.
If I thought it necessary to bring the same charges
against them into a more public discussion than that
of the House of Commons, I should use exactly the
same freedom, making myself, in the same manner,
liable to all the consequences. You observe very
rightly, that no fair man can believe me to be the
author of Junius. Such a supposition might tend,
indeed, to raise the estimation of my powers of writing
above their just value. Not one of my friends does,
upon that flattering principle, give me for the writer ;
and when my enemies endeavour to fix Junius upon
me, it is not for the sake of giving me the credit of an

92 EDMUND BURKE [1771

able performance. My friends I have satisfied ; my
enemies shall never have any direct satisfaction from
me. The Ministry, I am told, are convinced of my
having written Junius, on the authority of a miserable
bookseller's preface, which I have read since I saw you,
in which there are not three lines of common truth or
sense, and which defames me, if possible, with more
falsehood and malignity, than the libellers whom they
pay for that worthy purpose. This argument of theirs
only serves to show how much their malice is superior
to their discernment. For some years, and almost
daily, they have been abusing me in the public papers ;
and (among other pretences for their scurrility) as
being the author of the letters in question. I have
never once condescended to take the least notice of
their invectives, or publicly to deny the fact upon which
some of them were grounded. At the same time, to
you, or to any of my friends, I have been as ready as
I ought to be, in disclaiming in the most precise terms,
writings, that are as superior perhaps to my talents,
as they are most certainly different in many essential
points from my regards and my principles. I am, with
the greatest truth and affection,

My dear Sir,
Your most obedient and humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

I only wait my brother's arrival to pay my visit to
Frognall.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE BISHOP OF
CHESTER 1

Mudyer Street, November 9, 1771.
MY: BEAR LORD,

You will have the goodness to excuse this second
trouble, on the disagreeable subject of our last Thurs-
day's conversation. The discourse naturally spread
out into great extent and variety, with regard both to

1 Dr. William Markham, afterwards Archbishop of York.

1771] TO THE BISHOP OF CHESTER 93

things and persons. This may tend to embarrass the
single point I had in view, and the single light in which
I desire it may be considered. I spoke of the many
stories I had heard ; but as it is possible that their
authority may be disputed, I give no great attention to
them, and rather request that no sort of mention may
be made of them. If your lordship should choose to
speak to Lord Mansfield, I wish you would inform him,
that though I perfectly despise the attempt of the
court writers to fix upon me performances to which
I am a stranger, as a colour for the infamous abuse
they throw upon me so systematically ; yet, that I
do find myself extremely hurt in perceiving that his
lordship has not thought proper to discountenance the
blending a vindication of his character with the most
scurrilous attacks upon mine ; and that he has per-
mitted the first regular defence that I have ever seen
made for him to be addressed to me, without the least
proof, presumption, or ground, for the slightest suspicion
that I had any share whatsoever in that controversy.

I am not such a child as to suffer myself to be per-
suaded that the writers of these papers are not in the
pay of the Treasury ; I cannot conceive it possible
that Lord Mansfield can be ignorant of the existence
of such papers. I cannot believe that he does not know
they are written in a style injurious to me. The public
does certainly think that, being written by persons
apparently zealous for his honour, they are not dis-
agreeable to him. There is no man who can doubt that
the slightest intimation from his lordship, that such
a mode of defence was displeasing to him, would long
since have put a stop to the impudent licence of the
instruments of administration.

It may be magnanimity in Lord Mansfield to despise
attacks made upon himself ; but I cannot conceive
it essential to that character for Ms lordship to suffer his
vindication to be converted into a vehicle of scandal upon
a person who has hitherto been, at least, not his enemy.

I beg to be understood, that I do not speak as being
in the least affected by the general hostility of the

94 EDMUND BURKE [1771

writers of these papers, or their employers, which I
hope I have in some degree merited, and which I wish
them to continue, as some sort of proof that I have
not been inactive in the performance of my duty.
I am, with the, &c.,

EDM. BURKE.

EDMUND BUBKE, ESQ., TO CHAELES TOWNSHEND, ESQ.

November 24:, 1771.
DEAE SIR,

I received your letter at the proper time, but delayed
my answer to it until I had twice consulted my pillow.
Surely, my situation is a little vexatious, and not a
little singular. I am, it seems, called upon to disown
the libels in which I am myself satirized as well as
others. If I give no denial, things are fixed upon me
which are not, on many accounts, very honourable to
me. If I deny, it seems to be giving satisfaction to
those to whom I owe none and intend none. In this
perplexity all I can do is, to satisfy you, and to leave
you to satisfy those whom you think worthy of being
informed, I have, I dare say, to nine-tenths of my
acquaintance, denied my being the author of Junius,
or having any knowledge of the author, as often as the
thing was mentioned, whether in jest or earnest, in
style of disapprobation or of compliment. Perhaps
I may have omitted to do so to you, in any formal
manner, as not supposing you to have any suspicion of
me. I now give you my word and honour that I am
not the author of Junius, and that I know not the
author of that paper, and I do authorize you to say
so. This will, I suppose, be enough, without showing
my letter, which might have the air of being written
for the satisfaction of other persons than I mean
to give it to. I wish the satisfaction of fair or friendly
men ; it would be vain to look to others. Most heartily
I thank you for your friendly attention, and your good
news ; and am, with great truth and affection, &c,

EDM. BURKE.

1771] TO 95

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO 1

1771.
MY LOBD,

When your lordship is pleased so severely to censure
almost every part of my conduct and character,
I should be without all comfort if my conscience did
not as clearly acquit, as you have decisively condemned
nie.

I assure you, I wish to stand well in your opinion,
and do not 7 even now, easily reconcile myself to the
loss of it. I will, therefore, my lord, first endeavour
to clear myself of 'that great and prolific fault, the
source of so many others, with which your lordship
charges me, the * not bearing to receive instruction
from, my friends, and not being able, to distinguish
admonition from reproach, '.

My lord, when your lordship informs me (using
what you tell me is the s language of the world ', and
adopting that supposed language, )* that such arrogance
in a man of my condition is intolerable } ; your phrase
does, to my poor understanding, imply some contempt
of my condition, and a very iS opinion of my temper
and character ; and, therefore, might pass with a man
professing no better than mere human feelings, as
reviling rather than advice. I say nothing of the term
of * ridiculous folly } , and that suppressed epithet which
is so very easily supplied, and can be supplied by none
but a very offensive term.

These, my lord, and some other expressions, together
with a general sweeping censure of my whole conduct,

1 This paper, (the draft of which is corrected in
Mr. Burke's own handwriting,) is in the form of a letter,
which, judging from internal evidence, was doubtless
addressed to Dr. William Markham, then Bishop of
Chester, and afterwards Archbishop of York. It appears
to be in answer to a letter of remonstrance from the
bishop on Burke's public conduct, couched in no measured
language, as the quotations given in the reply sufficiently
prove.

96 EDMUND BURKE [1771

might well make me consider your lordship's letter as
designed to mortify, not to instruct me. The former
effect, whether you intended it or not, it did most
perfectly accomplish.

You think I ought to show myself more of a philo-
sopher in bearing such treatment. It is certain I have
endeavoured, all my life, to train my understanding
and my temper in the studies and habits of philosophy.
In some few things, I fancy I am grown almost a stoic ;
but your lordship's unkindness has attacked me on
a side on which I was absolutely unguarded, and I bear
it like a girl.

If I do not act a proper part in life, it is not, as
your lordship is resolved to suppose, for want of
sufficient admonition. If my enemies had been silent
(your lordship knows they are not), there are those
of another description near me, who behold my faults
with all the anxious sensibility of real affection. They
are not more disinterested friends and sanguine
advocates, than they are strict and faithful monitors,
that keep watch on every action of my life. Such are
those very persons whose warmth your lordship sup-
poses to scare away truth from approaching me. Let
those who see them and me together, judge between
your lordship and them. But passing them by, when-
ever your lordship did me the honour of your advice,
if I was not always prudent enough to profit of it,
be so good as to recollect what expression of heat
from me attended the occasion, or what distant and
unfriendly coldness followed it. Till the moment of
your letter, do you remember a single angry word
that ever passed between us ?

Your lordship has fixed a period for your ceasing to
exercise that part of the office of friend which consists
in counsel. Pardon me, my lord, your goodness has
been much more extensive than you imagine it. I
could put you in mind of another obliging interposition
of your advice, a good while after that period, and on
a point, too, of public conduct ; I mean the advice you
gave me in relation to the payment of the civil-list

1771] TO 97

debts. It is true, I was of an opinion different from
that of your lordship,* and acted upon my own ; but
you must know that, very soon after (as soon, indeed,
as I could see you), we were apparently, as we ought
to have been, on the very best terms that can be
imagined.

Your lordship, looking about for my faults with
more solicitude than I deserve to be honoured with,
rests in particular upon my having been formerly
6 hurt at your advice, to bring down the aim of my
ambition to a lower level, and not to look at an office ',
to which, it seems, at one time I had aspired. I don't
recollect the conversation ; very possibly your lordship
did give me some such advice. Presently I will speak
to the matter of it ; but you will think, I dare say, on
comparing facts and circumstances, that I could hardly
have been seriously angry with you on that occasion ;
for if I was not angry with those who gave me neither
that office nor any other office, but if, on the contrary,
I have adhered to them with the most zealous and
affectionate steadiness, in all their fortunes, is it to
be conceived that I could show any real resentment
to your lordship my close and confidential friend
only for advising me not to look upon only one of
those objects, none of which I could f obtain from my
ministerial friends ? No my lord ; the thing is
impossible ; your memory must have failed you.
But if your lordship would persuade any body that
my feelings on that occasion could bear a resemblance
to those which tear my heart to pieces on this here
are your two letters ; and if this were your usual
style of admonition, will mankind be astonished if
I always felt it on the naked nerve, and with the
quickest and sorest sensibility ? But it was not j
it was far from it. You never said such things, and
I never had feelings, in any sort, like my present.
Yet even now, with such letters on my table, am
I irritated to any improper rudeness, or do I go an
inch beyond the immediate matter of my grievance ?

I know not what is contained in private cabinets,

237

98 EDMUND BURKE [1771

but I have never seen published in any collection, in
any age, one resembling those which I have received
from your lordship, except one which was written as
a letter of consolation from Sir Francis Bacon to Lord
Chief Justice Coke, upon the latter's falling under the
displeasure of the court. This consolatory epistle does
almost come up to the asperity of your lordship's late
letters to me.

So far as to my impatience of admonition : now,
as to the conversation relative to Lord Mansfield.
I must beg you, my lord, not to suppose me capable
of that 'jejune, puerile, inconclusive, disjointed reason-
ing ' you attribute to me. Be so obliging as to dis-
tinguish in my conversation with you at Kew-green,
the two most different things in the world ; the reports
which I related as the first causes of my uneasiness,
from the matter I wished you to touch in your discourse
with Lord M. as what appeared to me irrefragable
presumption, equal to proof, that his lordship did not
discourage these attacks upon me. It is very true,
that your lordship did not think I had any ground to
be displeased with Lord M., and you did frequently
divert the argument from the presumption I mentioned
as my ground for complaint, to the town-talk which
I related to you^ merely as matter of conversation. On
that account, and on that only, and to prevent that
confusion of distinct matters into which (whatever
I could do) I saw you inclined to run, I wrote your
lordship the letter you mention, and which you do not
condemn.

But, under favour, what I asserted of your lordship's
not having shown any disapprobation whatsoever of
the style and temper of my message, which afterwards
raised such a storm, is strictly true. Your lordship
does not dispute this fact ; it made the whole of my
assertion, and your letter demonstrates the truth of it.
As to the particular communication or message, I really
think it more agreeable to the statement given in my
last letter, than to that mode in which your lordship
recollects it ; but this being a matter of memory, your

1771] TO 99

lordship is at liberty to take it even in your own way.
Let it stand in the broad glare of light into which you
have put it, and I can hardly think that Lord M. himself
(the very party concerned) could hold it so shocking an
offence, that, considering myself (though at a very
respectful distance) his friend, I thought it not right
in him to suffer me to be abused in a manner beyond
all example, as the author of libels upon him, when
I was sure he might have prevented it ; and that he
ought not to be surprised if I acted no longer in that
character. My situation was ridiculously vexatious ;
publicly abused on one side for the civil things I did
say of him, and on the other, tore to pieces for attacks
which I never made upon him.

I hope I am not mistaken ; but I would not put
to the account of civility to Lord Mansfield anything
that ought not fairly to be entered to that article. In
my parliamentary vote, I never have consulted any-
thing but the intrinsic merits of the measure itself,
or its extrinsic tendency to do good or evil upon the
whole. For this, he is no ways obliged to me, but I
have more than once gone beyond the necessity of my
argument to speak as handsome things of him, as the
extent of my very limited powers would allow. My
kinsman, Mr. William Burke, has done the same.

If Lord Mansfield (I do not know that he is) be
exalted on one side, in such transcendent stateliness
as utterly to disregard my civilities, I hope his dignity
is evenly and equitably balanced; and that on the
other side, he could not violently resent the threat
(as your lordship calls it) of discontinuing those
civilities on which he sets so slight a value. This is
but the equality essential to a great character. But
if he be as wise a man as I think him, and such a lover
of fame as he declares himself to be, he will not agree
with your lordship in imagining the public testimony
of an honest man, (not of the less value if that man
should take totally a different line of politics), to be so
' very contemptible in the possession, or so very
ridiculous in the loss ' ; nor will he consider it as

100 EDMUND BURKE [1771

so ' horribly unnatural ' in any man who thinks that
his voluntary and disinterested civilities have been
met with injurious returns, if he, in his anger, should
1 threaten to withhold them * in future. Few persons
are altogether so stately, and I trust your lordship is
mistaken in your opinion of Lord Mansfield.

But supposing that my message (as your lordship
calls it) were as ill-conceived and improper as you
state it, you were under no necessity of delivering that
message. You did not deliver it ; you were not obliged
to deliver any message at all. The whole passed in
private conversation between us two. How could this
justify that torrent of reproach with which, on cold
deliberation, you have chosen to overwhelm mymanners ,
disposition, principles, connexions, friendships, and
relations ; the whole tenor of the pubHc and private
conversation of my life ? Was this necessary, my lord ?
Most men, in my situation, would think it an oppor-
tunity eagerly taken, but not very happily chosen, of
breaking by a quarrel a long friendship, which, if the
contrariety of our sentiments made it no longer agree-
able, in wisdom ought to be rather gently and gradually
unravelled, than to be so very rudely and unartificially
rent asunder. This, you know, was the advice of one
of our great masters in the science of life and morals,
upon occasions of this unhappy nature.

I have done, for ever, with this business. In what-
ever light it appears to your lordship, most people
would think it a trifling error at the worst. But your
second letter has opened a much higher order, and
a much greater number and variety of charges against
me. These are, indeed, so very grave and so very
numerous, that you have given me a right to be a little
burdensome and tedious to you in my answer to them.
That answer ought to be full and satisfactory : first,
because I had already frequently vindicated myself
on several of these subjects. You remember the
accusation perfectly, but by some accident very
sinister to me, you absolutely forget the defence. I
think it, therefore, necessary to place it distinctly and

1771] TO 101

permanently before you ; in order that a memory, in
this one instance a little imperfect, may not be the
means of misleading the best judgement in the world.

In the next place, I would not, for any consideration,
that my son should happen to meet such horrid offences
charged on me, and on his nearest relations, by my
seventeen years' friend ( by the very person who
answered for him at the font ) without letting Mm
know that I was able to say something in our defence.
I would not have him come into life, oppressed by my
imputed faults from my reputed friends ; that the
innocent child may know, as I trust the world will
know and acknowledge, that he has not crept into
it from a c hole of adders ', to which your lordship
(I leave you to'feel with what ^humanity and justice)
has thought proper to compare "his father's house.

My lord, I may have very little to leave him but the
character, the friends, I would add (if I did not fear
your lordship's charge of arrogance) the example of
his father. It is most essential to him that these
should not be rendered vile, cheap, or odious, in the
opinion of mankind. In order to do him this indis-
pensable justice in order to leave this little inheritance
clear and unencumbered to him, I will consider your
lordship's heavy accusation under the three heads into
which it seems to be divided.

First my conduct in conjunction with my political
connexions ; secondly certain matters which your
lordship charges to my particular account ; and lastly
the various crimes which your lordship has collected
from the private conversations of my nearest friends
and relations. To all these I shall answer fully, dis-
tinctly, and, I trust, satisfactorily.

Your lordship, assuming the persons of others whose
opinions you do not condemn, considers the measures
of my party, ' in which I have been so forward to take
a lead, as running the extreme line of wickedness '. This
is what your lordship states as the description of our
measures ; and as to our morals, you describe us (still
stating the opinion of others, of which you express no

102 EDMUND BURKE [1771

disapprobation), ' as persons who first used their
sovereign basely, and then sought their justification
in slandering his character.' Heavy charges, both on
persons and actions !

My lord, if by accident you believe that such charges,
on such men as compose our party, are groundless
pray, why could you not imagine with equal justice,
aided by a little of not unbecoming partiality, that my
particular part in those actions, reported from the same
bad authority, was not more blameable than that of
the rest of our party ? But if your lordship (as you
seem to do) rather inclines to give credit to these
imputations, then, rny lord, I do freely and cheerfully
take my share in the measures. I take it with such
numbers and such persons, both of our own and other
bodies, that I am as well defended as respectable
authority and lawful example can make me. Your
lordship ought to pity me, under the influence of so
plausible and irresistible a seduction.

But, my lord, I do not secure a presumption in my
favour, merely in the number and weight of the present
opposition. If we have c run the extreme line of
wickedness ', there are but few now in his majesty's
service who have not pushed us very hard in the race.
Some have gone over one part, some another ; some
almost over all the course, along with us. I can recollect
but a very few who can escape much better than I can,
unless error is to be rectified by inconsistency of
character.

Whenever your lordship, or anybody else, shall
distinctly specify any one of those measures, be it
what it may, I will engage to call out some person
now high in his majesty's service and favour, to whom
I will commit the cause, who must either disgrace
himself or fully vindicate our proceedings. If you do
not harshly censure this ministerial advocate, permit
me to say, that your lordship's jastice must necessarily
suffer us to escape. It is not, I am sure, the fortune
and situation, but the actions of men. which become
the subjects of your indignation. I am really afraid

1771] TO 103

to join in your lordship's censure of our conduct, lest
I should lean too heavily on some respectable persons
in authority, and thus again become taxed with 'ill-
treating some of the highest people in the kingdom '.

You do not think I am going into the business of
six years this is infinite. No ; I shall go upon
general but very satisfactory grounds. If the measures
we have carried into legislative acts be so extremely
wicked, why does not the court, with the power of the
nation in their hands, redress the mischief by repealing
our acts and regulations ? If the measures we have
proposed and lost were so wicked, we were wicked only
in the intention, we have failed in the act. If the
nation likes our proceedings, it enjoys the benefit of
them. Posterity must judge of their intrinsic value,
and of the prudence, the reach of thought, the decorum,
consistency, moderation, and justice, with which they
were conceived and conducted, from the beginning to
the end.

Upon the merit of the ministerial conduct, that
of the opposition must finally stand or fall. The
matter of some part of it is not left to the representa-
tions of those that your lordship lives with. I must
suppose you have not read the grounds upon which
the opposition to some of the capital measures of
administration have been justified ; works which ought
to be perused by every one, before he peremptorily
attributes * the extreme line of wickedness ' to the
conduct of large bodies of men.

As to ' my forwardness in taking the lead in the
measures of the party ', I am not sure that I perfectly
understand the nature of the charge. I am no leader,
my lord, nor do I ever answer for the conduct of any
one but myself. If your meaning be that I commonly
make the motions, or am forward in laying the grounds
for opposition, your lordship is certainly misinformed,
I generally speak in justification of the vote I am to
give, very late in the debate. But if, by forioardness
and lead, you mean nothing more than that I do, with
all my heatt, all my soul, and all my strength, support

104 EDMUND BURKE [1771

the measures I believe to be right, the fact is un-
doubtedly true. But before the fact itself, or the
earnestness with which it is pursued, be clearly
censurable, the measures must be proved to be wrong,
or to be unimportant. My lord, it is not my interest
in my own case, nor my disposition in any case, to
receive the assertions of my enemies as competent proof
of either ; and as yet I have heard nothing else.

After stating by an aposiopesis, the force of which
mode of speech no one better understands than your
lordship, that our party has ' run the extreme line of
wickedness ' in the same mode you speak of them as
having e used the king basely, and then seeking their
justification in slandering his character '.

My lord in one thing you do me great justice.
You say that my opinion differs very widely from
yours upon this subject. It does indeed ; it differs
as widely as the remotest extremes can differ. To
speak fully to the point is difficult ; to be wholly silent,
impossible. The charge is heavy, and it is as general
as it is heinous. Like the former, on the measures of
the party, it points to no one circumstance of action,
time, or place, which can particularize it. No defence
can, therefore, be made, but by opposing to it the
denial of both the propositions of which the charge is
compounded ; and by showing, as far as general
presumptions can go, the utter improbability of the
existence of any truth in either of them. Indeed,
my lord, you have been cruelly abused and imposed
upon. I am sure I shall think myself happy, if the
subject of my defence, however it may fail for myself,
may be obliquely and accidentally the means of un-
deceiving you, in a mistaken opinion of the best
characters in the kingdom.

Before I say a word further, I must observe that
your lordship is the very first from whom I ever knew
that such a charge was made. I never heard it in any
conversation ; I never read it in any of the numerous
publications on the part of the court. I have always
heard Lord R-ockingham and his friends censured for

1771] TO 105

a behaviour, rather too reserved and managed for the
purposes of opposition. But I make no doubt that
such discourses as you mention are held. They are held
very improperly. They are held with more mischief
to the persons, in whose favour they seem to be uttered,
than even to those whom they intend to injure.

Will you permit me to speak on this business with
a frankness suitable to its importance. Indeed, my
lord, his majesty's servants have, in my humble
opinion, made too free with the sacred name of their
master, both in their apologies for themselves, and in
their accusations of others. I wish the gentlemen of
the court to consider seriously how well they consult
an honour in which we have all of us so great an interest,
and in which they have so peculiar and religious a trust,
when they can affirm that Lord Rockingham and his
friends have treated the king basely.

By the tenor of the sentence, I must conclude that
this charge of base treatment is fixed at the time when
Lord Rockingham and his friends had the honour to
serve the crown. Your lordship will recollect that
Lord Rockingham was called into the closet a full
year after his removal from office, and pressed to
resume it with large offers for himself and for his
friends, and even with powers still more extensive.
Do these perons, so affectedly zealous, reflect in what
manner they consult the personal glory of their
sovereign, when they represent him as showing such
favour to, and putting such confidence in, those who
were capable of treating him with baseness ? Do they,
in such a charge, consult the future connexion that
ought ever to exist between the glory and the possible
interest of their master, in case the convenience of
his service should, once more, induce him to call any
of those eminent persons, who are charged with having
treated him basely, into employment ? But if they
choose, on a supposition of the validity of the charge,
to suppose that such an arrangement is impossible, is
it then altogether for the king's advantage to persuade
such and so large bodies of men, that they are pro-
B 3

106 EDMUND BURKE [1771

scribed, and, as it were, disinherited by the common
protector and father of all his subjects ?

Besides, let me say, that though on every account
the character of the sovereign ought to be preserved in-
violate, and that, too, with the utmost care and tender-
ness, yet there are other characters to be preserved
also ; characters in which, though the subject has not an
equal, he has yet a very considerable interest. Your
lordship will hardly think it altogether prudent (I will
go no further, for I dare not return a word of the hard
language I received), wantonly to toss great names in
people's faces, in order to put them out of countenance,
and to oblige them either from shame to abandon their
defence, or from warmth to say things which may be
misinterpreted into a criminal disrespect. The former
is hardly fair in argument, nor is the latter in morals,
though it often may be meant innocently, as in this
case I am ready to believe. It has the air of insidiously
drawing men upon dangerous ground, in order to
entrap them on it ; and this, if I were in your lord-
ship's place, and armed with your authority from
station and knowledge, I would certainly say to those
who have the levity to hold such discourses.

I would also submit to your lordship's consideration,
whether it be right to set the people upon too many
inquiries into these matters, that trench so nearly upon
anecdote ? Certainly, my lord, the last thing the'people
of England will suspect in Lord Buckingham and his
great friends, is anything whatsoever of baseness, either
done or suffered. They will inquire whence and how
this surprising charge has arisen ; and possibly, in the
course of such an inquiry, their censure may fall not
lightly upon those who are capable of abusing either
their ears, or the ears of their sovereign, with such
a gross charge upon the best subjects that he has.

Any prince might glory in having such subjects.
He might well rejoice in finding that the persons who
have always been the truest to the succession of his
family, are most distinguished among his people for
their unspotted honour and integrity, for their dis-

1771] TO 107

interested love of their country, and for every virtue,
public and private. No wise king of Great Britain
would think it for his credit to let it go abroad that he
considered himself, or was considered by others, as
personally at variance with a Lord Bockingham, a
Duke of Richmond, a Duke of Portland, an Earl of

D , the families of the Cavendishes, with a Savile,

a Dowdeswell, and a very long train of names, who
are the ornaments of his country in peace, and to
some of whom he owes some of the greatest glories of
his own, and his predecessor's reign, in all the various
services of the late war. The public will not lightly
believe, that the close connexions of the late Duke of
Newcastle and the late Duke of Cumberland, have been
capable of using basely a king of the Brunswick
line.

As little will any one credit the other part of the
charge, that they sought their justification in traducing
his majesty's character. Till this day they have never
heard of this charge of base treatment, and, therefore,
most certainly never could be put to this justification*
But if you mean that they use it in defence of their
measures in opposition, surely you cannot imagine that
they are so miserably put t6 it for argument, as to have
no other way of defending themselves but by traducing
any character whatsoever. If they are alleged to have
used such justification in parliamentary debate, the
time and occasion ought to be marked. If in writing
the piece ought to be shown, and ought with some
probability to be carried home to them. If in con-
versation the informer ought to appear, and make
good the matter he relates. In no other way than, one
of these three, can these persons have committed the
offence your lordship mentions to be charged upon
them.

Avoiding all offensive terms, or any kind of recrimina-
tion on their accusers, I simply say they deny the truth
of the charge, and I trust nobody can bring a shadow
of proof for it. I am sorry that amongst your lord-
ship's numerous friends, you could find no one man

108 EDMUND BURKE [1771

under personal obligations to the leader of that respect-
able party, who might long since have removed those
impressions from your lordship's mind, and rendered
my poor defence unnecessary.

I have said all I mean to say in vindication of my
having gloried in my political connexions, and in the
part I have taken along with them. My principles,
indeed the principles of common sense, lead me to act
in corps. Accident first threw me into this party.
When I was again at liberty, knowledge and reflection
induced me to re-enter it ; principle and experience
have confirmed me in it. Your lordship will find
it difficult to show where a man, who wished to act
systematically in public business, could have arranged
himself more reputably. By arranging myself with
them, I trust I have given some sort of security to the
public for my good behaviour. That versatility, those
sudden evolutions, which have something derogated
from the credit of all public professions, are things not
so easy in large bodies, as when men act alone, or in
light squadrons. A man's virtue is best secured by
shame, and best improved by emulation in the society
of virtuous men. Most of my public proceedings have
been in the strictest concurrence with that party ; and
to your lordship's candour and mature consideration,
I hope I may safely leave both the party and its
proceedings.

I now pass to the separate account you have opened
with myself, for matters of my own private conduct.
Here, my lord, you accuse me of maltreating the
greatest men in the kingdom ; you particularize, &c. ?
&c., and you seem to think that I have not sufficiently
' distinguished myself from useless declaimers who are
valued only for bear-garden talents ' ; and that I have
given the world an c impression of me, as a man capable
of things dangerous and desperate '.

This is the pecuhurn of blame, which your lordship
has portioned out to me, and separated from the
common stock. Pardon me, if I think you have your
accounts of me from men of little moderation ; indeed,

1771] TO 109

from a kind and class of enemies, far below the
common generosity of that adverse character. Has
your lordship then found me, in the innumerable con-
versations that we have had together for many years
(which I now remember with a melancholy pleasure), a
' useless declaimer ' and distinguished by ' bear-garden '
talents ? If your lordship has not found this in my
conversation, (you will not affirm that you have,) why
will you so easily give credit to those, who assert that
I am of another character wherever you do not happen
to see me ?

My lord, I have written some trifles. They are,
indeed, full of imperfections, but they are not altogether
* useless declamations ' ; nor have they, I think, a
great deal of the scurrilities of the ' bear-garden '.
Some of them are written, too, on a subject of public
controversy. But there I am safe enough. What a
man writes, defendfe or accuses itself ; what he speaks,
is but too much at the mercy of narrators, and I have
fallen amongst the very worst of that odious band.

Hypocrisy is no cheap vice ; nor can our natural
temper be masked for many years together. I have
not Hved, my lord, at any period of my life, nor do I
live 1 at present, in societies where the talents your
lordship alludes to are in any sort of request. I live,
and have lived, in liberal and humanized company ;
who, as they could never endure such a character,
would be infinitely surprised at this imputation upon
a person whom, at least, they tolerate.

As to some little occasional sallies out of serious
business, which you have been ready to commend in
other men, and which, when not ill-executed, have been
commended by all ancient and modern critics, I am
sure they are not without their use in popular debates.
For my own part in them, I can only say, that if I could
receive any comfort under your lordship's displeasure,
I have the consolation not to be equally ill-thought of
by everybody. You know, I am sure, a person of rank, 1
long removed from public business in which he had
1 The Earl of Chesterfield.

110 EDMUND BUEKE [1771

much distinguished himself, and who was equally
distinguished for the elegance of his manners and the
well-bred felicity of his wit, has a great deal more than
once repeated, without any very harsh censure, some
of the trifles which less grave occasions have drawn
from me in the house. He has even condescended to
say most obliging things to myself upon the subject.
That person, I assure your lordship, is not so poor in
the resources of real politeness, as to be driven to supply
his deficiencies out of the fund of ill-placed flattery.
He is no way connected with me, in party or otherwise.
He is too considerable to be one of my admirers ; and
all I shall say is, he did not find in any of my little
pleasantries, the relish of that celebrated academy
from which your lordship is pleased to derive them.

The attacks I have made are specified to be on
Mr. Grenville, Mr. Rigby, Sir William Bagot, 1 and
Lord Barrington. 2 You could lengthen, you say, the
catalogue ; certainly you could ; for I have had
rather more altercations than are mentioned in this
list, and your lordship as certainly supposes me the
aggressor in all of them. As to the first, I only desire,
in common justice to me, and even to Mr. Grenville,
that his court friends will not be too superfluously kind
to his memory ; that they will not resent any injuries
done to him, for which he had no resentment himself.
Perhaps your lordship does not know, that I had the
honour of being on the best terms with Mr. Grenville,
which continued uninterrupted to his death ; that he
gave to my kinsman, William Burke, and to me, a
pressing invitation to his house in the country , that
in his house in town, upon a business too which most
people would think delicate, we had a long conversa-
tion, wherein, without any dereliction of principle on
either side, we settled the matter to mutual satisfaction ;
and that he afterwards was so obliging as to enter upon

1 Sir William Bagot, Member of Parliament for Stafford-
shire, afterwards Lord Bagot.

2 William Wildman, Viscount Barrington, at this time
Secretary, at- war .

1771] TO 111

a very curious and interesting conversation, relative
to many of the most essential particulars of his ministry
and life. His brother, Lord Temple, is known to cherish
the most affectionate reverence for his memory. I have
the pleasure to assure your lordship, that I am at this
instant in intimacy and on terms of friendship with
Lord Temple, who most assuredly would not do me
that honour, if he thought my difference in opinion
with him, or his brother, had ever carried me to lengths
unjustifiable among gentlemen.

As to my supposed attack on Mr. Rigby, your lord-
ship is then of opinion that, of course, I must have been
the aggressor, and that it is impossible the known
urbanity of Mr. Rigby's style of debating could have
given just offence. I am at your lordship's mercy on
the subject, and no disculpation can avail me ; only
I am to do justice to the very handsome behaviour of
your friend, Mr. Rice, on that occasion.

Sir William Bagot, my lord, made two several
wanton and utterly unprovoked attacks upon me ;
I did nothing more than repel them ; the first time
with great good humour, at neither time with ill-
temper or ill-manners. On the latter occasion, Lord
John Cavendish, a man not more remarkable for his
firmness than his great moderation, interrupting my
defence, declared if I had not spoken on the first
occasion, he would have done it* himself, and have
taken nearly the same ground. Sir William Bagot
seemed sensible that he had gone too far ; he made
some apology for it. I could name a line of witnesses
to you on this business, above all suspicion of partiality
to me, who know I was not the aggressor in the begin-
ning of the dispute, nor the most bitter in the prosecu-
tion of it ; and whether, on the whole, I did any dis-
credit, on so unexpected a provocation, to my own
character or to good manners, the House, who heard
me with every mark of approbation, must judge. Since
that time I have often met Sir William Bagot on various
business, and neither of us appeared to have any
remembrance of the altercation. But my offence, it

112 EDMUND BURKE [1771

seems, is perfectly recorded elsewhere, along with the
rest of my indelible transgressions.

You are kind enough to tell me, as the end of the list,
of my execrations of Mr. Yorke during his last illness.
I wish, my lord, you had not put my patience and
prudence to so sore a trial. But they will endure even
that test. No man honoured Mr. Yorke, living and
dead, more than myself. I hold his memory in a
reverence that is almost superstitious. I know; him to
have possessed a wonderful erudition in all kinds. I
knew him to be a person of the purest principles and
morals, and of a strict and punctilious sense of honour,
and that he was one who felt for fame with but too
fatal a sensibility. Let me add, that I have myself a
large part in his loss : he was much my friend. I say
so, because I should count it impious to distrust the
frequent professions of regard which I had from him.
When your lordship gives me leave to know, that you
hold me utterly incapable of the base act you charge
upon me, I will tell you what it was that gave rise to
that most malicious of all calumnies. Till then, I
must content myself with assuring you, that the story,
as you have heard it, is absolutely false.

Now, my lord, at the black tail of this black catalogue
of accusations, let me stir up the principle of candour,
which all this slander has, for a moment, smothered in
you, and ask you seriously, whether you believe that,
in coming into the House of Commons, I entered like
a wolf into a fold of lambs ' ; and with ferocious and
savage fury, ' snapped now at one, now at another ' of
those meek and passive creatures, without mercy, fear,
or shame ? t .

Does not your lordship think it possible that, in such
a place, where such matters are agitated as will call out
all of the wild beast that lurks in human nature, there
are other animals with fangs and claws besides me ?
Does your lordship think it absolutely incredible, that
attempts might be made to putt me down, and that I
may have been necessitated to make some strong efforts
to keep myself up ? Do you seriously think that the

1771] TO 113

understandings of your narrators are better disciplined
in the duties and decorums of public life than mine ?
Do you imagine that they are not equally liable to
passions similar to mine, which may mislead them in
the representation, possibly in the conception of my
conduct ? Have they not interests far more consider-
able than mine, which may as naturally bias them from
the straight line of their duty ? You were e overborne ',
you say, when you did me the very great honour of
becoming my advocate, ' by the number of charges
against me.' I am sorry that you threw up your brief
so early, and that I lost, on such an insufficient ground,
all the advantage of your lordship's goodness and
ability ; because it is evidently not the number, but
the truth of the charges, that ought to prevail in any
equal tribunal. If it should be otherwise, nothing will
save me, either now or in future ; for you may be very-
sure that, as many as my actions are, just so many will
be the charges of my enemies. Did your lordship ever
hear of a man, acting in public, who was free from
them ? If I were, with all expressions of tenderness,
friendship, and compassion, to write down but one-half
of the language of their enemies, concerning any given
public persons whom you know and esteem, I am very
much afraid, if I sent it to you, your lordship would
think it little else than a libel ; if I sent it to any of
themselves, you would think it a gross insult.

Suppose that one of the best friends they have, were
to make such a collection, for the instruction and
entertainment of Lord Chatham or Lord Mansfield,
the Duke of Grafton or of Lord North. They are
greater men than I ; they have the advantage of
their dignity. Worse things have been said of them.
Your lordship does not think that the eminence of
their station ought to make the hearing of truth less
necessary to them, or make it less proper for them to
hear it with temper. In what light would you consider
such a communication to these persons : even though
it were made lest they should happen not to be apprised
of the tone of their enemies, or be unacquainted with

114 EDMUND BURKE [1771

the language of an uniform series of five years 5 daily
newspapers ?

I know well enough what my enemies say : I know
too what my conscience answers to their malice. My
public conduct, co -extensive with my largest relation,
must be my glory or my shame. Has your lordship
found one single part of it to be praiseworthy ?

If I act in party, you more than insinuate that the
party runs the extreme line of wickedness ; if I act
alone, then I have some wickedness of supererogation
beyond that line ; some eccentric crimes to answer for.
In every altercation I am the aggressor ; my debate is
declamation ; my railing, the bear-garden ; in my
motions, I show myself capable of things dangerous
and desperate ; the daily conversations of my friends
and relations, are guilty of all the malignity of treason ;
my house, by the deductions of no exceptionable logic,
easily taken for ML hole of adders.

My lord, all this and more-, are your sentiments of
me, I trust expressed in anger, and in the vehemence
of a mistaken zeal ; from which no talents, nor situa-
tion, will always exempt even men of piety and virtue.
If, indeed, you censure many material parts of my little
public system, I do not wonder that you condemn the
whole.

My principles are all settled and arranged, and
indeed, at my time of life, and after so much reading
and reflexion, I should be ashamed to be caught at
hesitation and doubt, when I ought to be in the midst
of action, not as I have seen some to be, as Milton says,
* unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek.' However,
this necessary use of the principles I have will not make
me shut my ears to others which, as yet, I have not,
only I wish to act upon some that are rational.

' I ill-treat the first men in the kingdom.' If you
show me that in no case this may be my duty, I will
confess I am in the wrong. I am a respecter of autho-
rity ; but, my lord, I execute my share of an important
magistracy ; and I conceive that it may happen to be
part of my office to accuse, and even very ill-treat, the

1771] TO 115

first men in the kingdom. Would your lordship have
me so treat clerks in office, who transcribe letters, or
sergeants of the guard, who execute orders ?

4 I attacked Lord Barrington : ' I did so ; and,
let me add, I attacked Lord Weymouth as much as
him ; and I attacked Lord Hillsborough as much as
either, though on another ground. But I did this in
a regular, sober, constitutional manner. However,
I bear your censure the better, as I am absolutely
satisfied that, to this minute, you neither know a single
ground on which I made the attack, nor the temper with
which I conducted myself, in any of the proceedings
upon which you charge me. I never made more than
two motions. As to that on St. George's Fields, I did
in effect repeat it ; and I never slept so happily as after
I had discharged myself of that accusation. I now
give over the pursuit, not as blameable, but hopeless.
It was, indeed, very nearly what your lordship calls it,
a proceeding ' dangerous and desperate ' ; desperate
as to hope of success, dangerous, as it has been a
means of forfeiting your good opinion. To its object
it proved very innoxious ; it has not diminished a
shilling of Lord Barrington's salary. But if it had
succeeded, I have no doubt that very salutary effects
to the public would have followed from it.

I acted to the best of my judgement. It would be
hard to find a bad motive for my conduct in this
particular. I am a man of none but civil talents, such
as they are ; and I can have no views from a state of
disorder and confusion ; no, not more even than your
lordship.

Your lordship tells me * it is not what pretensions
I may have, but what the world will choose to allow
me.' What pretensions, my lord, am I making to
anything that the world has to allow or to refuse ?
I make no pretensions, my lord, but those which, with
God's blessing, no power can take from me ; those of
doing my duty agreeably to my own ideas, within the
laws of the land, and the rules and orders of the body
to which I belong ; and I will do that duty with such

116 EDMUND BURKE [1771

vigour, or such remission, as I may think will best
answer the purpose of my trust. If by pretensions you
mean places, I solicit none, and I really think I never
shall; though I would very gladly serve the Crown,
and be of use to my own family, if I could do it with
honour.

Your lordship, whose mean opinion of me I lament,
but cannot avoid, formerly thought it (as you now tell
me) insanity in me to look to an employment then
vacant. This matter of mad ambition give me leave
to explain.

Lord Rockinghaxn, as you observe, and as I knew,
was on the point of being turned out of office. I had
observed, what I might do without great sagacity, that
the having filled any considerable place, did raise the
credit and authority of men much higher than any
other circumstance whatever. Looking for what has
happened, a long minority, I thought the name of
such an employment might be of some use, for (as
your lordship may, if you please, guess) I never meant
to keep it. However mad this idea may have been, it
only floated on my mind. I talked to a friend or two,
and beat the thing backward and forward in conversa-
tion. The ministry was changed a very few days after.
It was no formed project : I never so much as spoke
to Lord Rockingham upon it; this he knows, and
there is the whole of my madness.

Your lordship at that time, you say, advised me
to make ' a seat at the Board of Trade my object '.
I dare say you did, though I confess I forget the
conversation. It is undoubtedly a very honourable
employment, and much above my deserts ; if the
parallel was only between that office and those deserts .
That place was, however, not my object ; among other
reasons for one that was very obvious, that there was
then no vacancy. The employment, to which I wished
the nomination, was open.

Your lordship thought, and still seems to think me
insane, in wishing that employment upon another idea ;
because I had then only been private secretary to

1771] TO 117

a minister. This oblique insinuation I might leave
where I found it, if I did not think that your lordship
grounded your opinion on very mistaken principles,
whatever the merit of the particular matter then in
question might have been. I must, therefore, beg
leave again humbly to express my sentiments, though
they should again be treated as the effect of frenzy.

I did not ground my pretensions on any supposed
rank of private secretary. This employment I knew,
as well as anybody did, formed no pretension ; because
it was no known office, nor bears any rank whatsoever
in the State. But I conceived then, and still do so,
that the rule of preferment in the offices of this kingdom,
is not MEBE official gradation. The rank in office is to
be rated by the rank which men hold in Parliament, and
by that only. This rank, though not exactly definable,
is very easily understood ; and the name and thing
have been much in the mouths of all public men. If
the rule of official rank were any other, the consequence,
according to my ideas, would obviously tend to the
utter relinquishment of any but the most slavish and
passive conduct, in all those who ever look to the
service of the State. Indeed, it would be fatal to the
State itself.

On your lordship's standard I must have very low
hopes, or none at all. I have no more official pretensions
now than I had the first hour of my election. I there-
fore, my lord, refuse to admit your lordship's rule, and
I am authorized not only by reason but by practice.
Many have made their first step as high as that you
allude to, and much higher, and all from parliamentary,
not official ground. I do not name them, for fear of
your lordship's censure of arrogance in the comparison.
But, my lord, other gentlemen held actually that very
office afterwards which I wished for only in designation ;
who, though I very highly respect them, I will not
believe stood higher on parliamentary ground than
I did.

I think, my lord, very poorly of Ned Burke or his
pretensions ; but, by the blessing of God, the just

118 EDMUND BURKE [1771

claims of active members of Parliament shall never be
lowered in the estimation of mankind by my personal
or official insignificance. The dignity of the House
shall not be sunk by my coming into it. At the same
time, my lord, I shall keep free from presumption. If
ever things should stand in such a situation as to entitle
me to look to office, it is my friends who must discover
the place I hold in Parliament, I never shall explain it.
Rank is not my object for my own sake, I assure you ;
for if ever I were to ask for employment (as I shall not),
vanity would not be my guide in my requests. Some
service to my own honest interests, and to those of
others, would be my rule. For I protest most solemnly
that, in my eye, situated as I am, and thinking as I do
of the intrinsic dignity of an active but independent
member of Parliament, I should look upon the highest
office the subject could aspire to, as an object rather of
humiliation than of pride. It would very much arrange
me in point of convenience ; it would 'do nothing for
me in point of honour.

To purge away all further symptoms of insanity, in
not admitting your lordship's rule of official gradation,
permit me to say, that even at the time you allude to,
I was not very young, but as much a man as I am now,
and as fit for any kind of business. I was as little
inclined to the course of changing about with every
wind, without regard to men or things ; and when you
combine these two circumstances, of time of life and
some aim at uniformity of conduct, the madness would
be in acting upon the ground taken from official grada-
tion, and not from parliamentary rank ,* even if such
ground had been thought of in this country, or that
rule had been laid down for any man in it except myself.
My friends know whether I have harassed them with
requests, or whether my pretensions ever deranged
their business, or disturbed their quiet. Till they
complain, every one else, methinks, may well be silent.

I could say a great deal on the ground of men's
pretensions in this country, but there is more than
enough for both of us. Your lordship has compelled

1771] TO 119

me to speak more than I wish, upon places and employ-
ments. It is a subject not often in my thoughts, nor
likely to be greatly my concern, even though your
lordship has removed the terrors of the proscription
which hung over me, by securing me an asylum in my
native insignificance. This humble cottage, which is
not to be shaken even pulsante Caesarea manrt, I take
refuge in most joyfully. Your lordship is so conde-
scending, to offer to enter it along with me, but I beg
you to go no further than the door ; it is, indeed, a
sort of lodging as unsuitable to your dignity as to your
abilities.

Your lordship tells me that my ideas of that pro-
scription had arisen only from my imagination having
outrun my judgement. I have no such races between
my imagination and my judgement, as your lordship,
who speaks the language of my enemies"like a native,
is pleased to suppose. They have no king's plate before
them to animate the contention. They are a pair of
slow and orderly beasts of very little figure, but fit
enough to draw together, and, I trust, to pull them-
selves and their poor master out of all the mire into
which our enemies have endeavoured to plunge us.
It was neither my arrogance, nor my irregular imagina-
tion, that induced me to think as I did. Your lordship
told me c that I might put it out of tJie 'power of any
possible administration to serve me '. Who is there
but the king, who can restrain the powers of any
possible administration ? And when you assured me
that ' this was most certainty true ', I did believe you
said it upon some good authority ; I did not say whose
authority it was. It was, my lord, my ignorance of
courts, not my arrogance, that made me put this plain
interpretation upon plain words. Por, knowing those
of high place only by hearsay, I have read, that mon-
archs in former days had sometimes been, by advisers
very unlike themselves, induced to turn the tremendous
majesty of their resentments on objects as low and
unworthy as myself. Your lordship wiH, therefore,
pardon this error, in which there was nothing worse

120 EDMUND BURKE [1771

than, what is inevitable to a man of iny condition,
a want of knowledge of the great world. "This probable
proscription thai; I had so much dreaded, I am now, it
seems, only to understand as your lordship's own con-
jecture, arising from the favourable light under which
you have been, for some time, accustomed to behold
my conduct. As to e your having no pain in doing ill-
natured things ', I knew and felt a man of the very
reverse character ; but in your lordship's letters, I
know nothing of my old friend but the handwriting,
which I know but too well.

After giving the testimony of my enemies, as grounds
of charge against me, your lordship comes to their
assistance, towards the close of your letter, with a little
of your own ; and this too for a purpose, which, even
after all I had read, did not a little astonish me. It
was in justification of the libellers for having fixed on
me as the author of Junius, from a resemblance whieh
your lordship supposes my house bears to e an hole of
adders *. My lord, I am sorry to find that these writers
have so able an advocate, which, though they stand
in need of, I have not at all the charity to wish them.
But since these worthy gentlemen are under your
lordship's protection, I say not one word against them,
except that, in this instance, they did not reason logi-
cally, nor draw their conclusions in any good form.
For, passing that most obliging simile of ' the adders'
hole ' as not in strict argument, I did not c furnish the
premises ' your lordship supposes ; and if I had, the
conclusion of these gentlemen was irregular. IPor,
supposing all your lordship says was not very greatly
mistaken, how does it follow from the discourses of
my friends, that I am the author of Junius, as these
worthy persons peremptorily assert ? Let me advance
a step further, and suppose that the discourses which
your lordship charges on my friends were not theirs,
but my own ; it must be proved that no other persons
have held similar discourses, before the singular propo-
sition of the conclusion could be valid against me.
Hardly as your lordship thinks of us, you will scarcely

1771] TO 121

assert that we have a monopoly of such discourse.
Indeed, there is no putting this argument in any way
in which it will do ; and I must still think as I did
before, that these gentlemen or their employers did not
act in a manner altogether justifiable in drawing such
a conclusion, from any premises with which your letter
supposes them to have been furnished. Nothing but
your good nature, which is always in existence, but,
unfortunately for me, transferred to my worst enemies,
could make you entertain a better opinion of that sort
of logic.

My lord, this part of your letter is indeed very
serious. The crimes are high, the accuser of great
authority, and the persons accused my nearest and
dearest friends. You would think me, I am sure, the
basest of friends, the worst of brothers, and the most
unworthy and unnatural of all men, if I took in very
good part, and as an act of kindness, your lordship's
charges against them.

My lord, Mr. William Burke, the first you set to the
bar, has had the closest and longest friendship for me ;
and has pursued it with such nobleness in all respects,
as has no example in these times, and would have
dignified the best periods of history. Whenever I was
in question, he has been not only ready, but earnest
even, to annihilate himself ; and he has not been only
earnest but fortunate, in his endeavours in my favour.
Looking back to the course of my life, I remember
no one considerable benefit in the whole of it, which I
did not, mediately or immediately, derive from him.
To him I owe my connexion with Lord Rockingham.
To him I am indebted for my seat in Parliament. To
him it is I must refer all the happiness and all the
advantages I received from a long acquaintance with
your lordship. For me he gave up a respectable
employment of a thousand pounds a year, with other
very fair pretensions. He gave up an employment
which he filled with pleasure to himself, with great
honour to himself, and with great satisfaction to Ms
principal in office. Indeed, he both held and quitted

122 EDMUND BURKE [1771

it with such a well-arranged discharge of all his duties,
that a strict friendship subsists between him and the
principal he left, from that moment even to this, amidst
all the rage and confusion of parties. But he resigned
it to give an example and an encouragement to me,
not to grow fearful and languid in the course to which
he had always advised me. To encourage me, he gave
his own interest the first stab : Paete, non dolet. This,
my lord, was true friendship ; and if I act an honourable
part in life, the first of all benefits, it is in great measure
due to him. He loved your lordship too, and would
have died for you, I am thoroughly persuaded he
would. He had the most ardent affection for you, and
the most unbounded confidence in you. If there was
any difference in his regard for you and me, it is, that
there were certain disparities which made him look up
to you with greater reverence. Such a friendship can
grow in none but a soil favourable to, and producing
every kind of virtue ; and, accordingly, he has nothing
like a fault about him, that does not arise from the
luxuriance of some generous quality: Do not c dis-
inherit your son ' for anything Will. Burke is capable
of doing. I look with pleasure and with the most
auspicious hopes, and with, I am sure, very unaffected
good wishes, on your growing family. But if I was
their father, my prayer in their favour would be for
half his virtues. I would ask for no more, because I
would wish a good man to be happy and prosperous
in the world,

' My lord, I owe this honest testimony, all I can return,
for a friendship of which I can never make myself
deserving. As to him, my lord, I am not capable of
telling you in what manner he felt your charges. He
answers nothing to them ; he only bids me tell you,
that never being able to suppose himself in a situation
of serious controversy with your lordship, much less as
the culprit in a criminal accusation for a matter of state,
brought by you upon his private conversation, he knows
not what to say. He is at your mercy. He really
cannot put his pen to paper on this subject, though he

1771] TO 123

has two or three times attempted it. Permit me, my
lord, on this very serious head, to lay before your
lordship a very few matters for your consideration.
I feel myself as averse to stating this matter to your
lordship, in a style of controversy, as my friend is
incapable of it. Will your lordship, then, have the
goodness to consider that the conversations of your
friend, to which your lordship gives, in your passion,
such very hard names, have passed entirely between
you and him, that they have passed m the freedom of
friendship, in the openness of the most unreserved
confidence. Is it true, that no one was witness to
anything capable of such a construction, out of the
inmost recesses of your own family ? Does your lord-
ship recollect, that there was any stranger present in
any mixed company, either at your house or elsewhere,
who heard any such conversation ? Now, my lord, if
there be no such witness out of your own family
(te consule], might it hot be rather the entire confidence
that Mr. Burke reposed in your honour, than any
indiscretion, which had induced him to enter with you
into topics in themselves delicate and extremely
capable of misconstruction ? I never will believe the
loosest flow of the heart, in all its temporary feelings,
to be indiscreet in conversation with you.

My lord, there is another consideration which I
would beg leave to submit to you upon these supposed
culpable conversations. I believe, if you call to mind
times and circumstances, you will find that there could
scarce have passed any private political conversation
between Will. Burke and your lordship for near three
years. A very hard statute was made concerning
words, in the reign of King Pharles the Second ; but
hard as it was, it limited the prosecution to be within
. . . ; 1 otherwise, the statute would not have been
hard but intolerable, and the reason is extremely clear.
Words are fugitive ; and the lapse of a little time may

1 This blank in the manuscript is, of itself, almost a
proof that the letter never was sent.

124 EDMUND BURKE [1771

cancel such a variety of explanatory circumstances in
the mind of the party accused, as extremely to enfeeble,
perhaps entirely to destroy a very full defence. Besides,
the memory of the informers may be full as fallacious
as that of the party charged. If he has not set down
the words, their true spirit may well have escaped Mm ;
if he has, it furnishes a very just presumption that he
has stored up this invidious matter for so long a time,
not for the purposes of justice, but of malice. Your
lordship will tell me that you are not now making
a charge in a court of justice. Very true ; but permit
me to say, that the equity and reason of these rules
ought to be carried into all personal reproaches and
revilings for supposed similar offences so long passed.
When any person has not, at the time, expressed any
disapprobation of these discourses, every principle of
justice precludes him, and ought to stop his mouth
for ever. Your lordship does, in effect, admit that you
heard without any marks of disapprobation, discourses
.to which your lordship now gives appellations that,
for your own sake, I cannot bear to repeat. You say
that a ' dislike of altercation and a respect to your
profession,' hindered you from expressing your senti-
ments at the time. May I presume to differ in this
point, and to think that it was so far from being
contrary to the duties and decencies of your sacred
profession, that nothing was more strictly within both,
than to give grave and sober counsel upon such occa-
sions, to those with whom you condescended to live.
If the immediate moment was too sudden, or the
parties appeared too warm, advice upon the next day
would have been prudent from a wise man, proper
from a fnend, charitable from a divine, full as much
so (pardon the weakness of my judgement) as to keep
charges of this kind in your own bosom for upwards of
two years, and then to produce those charges for the
first time, in the spirit and language of the bitterest
reproach, not against the speaker of the words, but
against a third person (myself), in order to aggravate
accusations against me, which you have carried on

1771] TO 125

with much earnestness, though without any provoca-
tion, real or pretended.

My lord, there was no reason drawn from profession
or temper, (I beg leave to say,) for your silence and
your forbearance at that time, that does not, as
strongly at least, subsist against your reproaches and
your warmth at this. If you thought these conversa-
tions unadvised, it was a reason for advice ; if you
thought they argued depravity, it was a reason for
rupture. Far from it. After, long after, any period
you can assign for such supposed conversation, much
intercourse has passed between Will. Burke and your
lordship ; and I do not remember that you have
treated our common friend, at any time of our long
acquaintance, with warmer demonstrations of affection;
some of which, when you please, I will point out to
your lordship's recollection. I therefore am obliged to
conclude, that your lordship's memory has not done
its office quite perfectly on this occasion ; and that the
discourses which passed so long ago, were of a different
nature from what you consider them in the moment of
your present zeal and warmth.

As to my brother, I am bound to do him justice at-
the very least. He is too near to me to make it decent
for me to speak what I think of him, and which others-
would say with more propriety and with equal pleasure*
I assure you, my lord, his majesty has not those who
serve him in the highest, as he does in the lowest
capacity, who are better affected to his government,
or more capable of doing it honour or service. My
lord, he heard with great astonishment, and some
feeling, your lordship's criminal accusations, so heavy
in the matter and unmanaged in the epithets. He
would immediately have answered for himself, but
I interposed, and took it into hands very equal to it,
for it stands in no need of skill or ability. First, my
lord, I must observe, as in the case of my kinsman,
so in that of my brother, not one of the persons who
make the charges upon me, do allege his conversations
as the cause. This is your lordship's own, peculiar

126 EDMUND BUKKE [1771

and appropriate. My lord, please to recollect, in the
next place, that no late discourses of his could possibly
give offence, or furnish ground for the late presumption
against me ; for the justification of which presumption
your lordship has referred to those supposed discourses
of his. He is but just returned to the kingdom, after
an absence of two years. He was actually not returned
to England at the time when this hue and cry of the
court was raised against me. So far as to the late
presumed public conversations ; in which, my lord,
it is simply, not improbable, but absolutely im-
possible he should have been the cause and ground of
recent accusations against me.

But if your lordship supposes that the impropriety
and publicity of conversations in former days, has
made such an impression as to produce this effect at
such a distance of time, be so good as to recollect the
extreme improbability of the charge. A great part of
the time he spent in England was, from a melancholy
accident, passed in his bed or chair ; some time he
spent in Ireland. My lord, his acquaintance beyond
my closest connexions is very limited. Who of those
makes this charge upon him ? Who is it that charges
him, except your lordship ? You, indeed, proceed
against him in a manner, in which I do not so readily
recognize your lordship's natural and usual generosity.
You bring a charge upon him which, in your way of
making it, it is impossible, in case of the most perfect
innocence, that he should be able to refute. The charge
(dropping the handsome epithet) is not for indecorum,
or indiscretion, but for falsehood. The only defence.,
therefore (if the fact of the words were once admitted),
would be to plead that the words were true. My lord,
will you seriously say, that you would suffer him to
allege any sort of proofs of the truth of such an assertion
as you suppose ? Would you not consider the very
attempt to be a new offence ; would you not consider
it as an offence ten times heavier than the first ?
Recollect that the informations for libels have lately
been purged of the word false. This, if legally, was.

1771] TO 127

very properly done ; as the lawyers have been in
a practice of not giving evidence to the falsehood, or
admitting disculpatory testimony to the truth. I con-
fess I should carefully imitate this proceeding of the
lawyers, in my intercourse with mankind ; and would
think it very unjust and improper in me, to accuse
any man with a departure from veracity, where Ms
attempt to prove the truth would be more dangerous
to him than his admitting the falsehood with which he
stood charged. But, my lord, my brother puts himself
on his defence, and does totally deny the fact. Who,
out of your own family, was present at any such
discourse, at any time ? My brother never had the
honour of being often in your lordship's company;
when he was, he stood in some awe, though in no sort
of fear of you. He has had very few political discourses
with you, and never anything resembling a political
dispute, but one. This was on your lordship's ending
a conversation, of which I was (as I am now) the
unhappy subject, with declaring that * party operated
to eradicate every virtue out of the heart of man ',
On that occasion he grew into some warmth, and
retorted on other factions some of the charges your
lordship had made upon me. This, my lord, he never
mentioned to me, until his necessary justification drew
it from him. He proceeded to justify the propriety of
oppositions by the principles of the revolution, in which
he said they were founded. So far from blaming that
glorious event, or its sound principles he assumed
them as the very ground of his argument. He asserts
that he never had any other discourse with your lord-
ship about the revolution. Consider, my lord, how
easy it is, for a passionate recollection of a passionate
debate, to confound matters strangely. Suppose, my
lord, I was to say that the revolution could not be
supported, if some lesser modes of opposition could not
be also justified. My lord, I do say it, but I say it
upon paper. This, in conversations of years' standing,
the hearer might forget to have been an hypothetical
proposition. The little piddling monosyllable 'if

128 EDMUND BURKE [1771

might slip out of the memory, and the thing stand in
all the glare of a criminal offence ; so dangerous itis to
mention such things without their necessary adjuncts,
the time, the occasion, the posture of the debate, the
purpose of the speaker; so dangerous, after a long
time past, to mention them at all, in a style of accusa-
tion or reproach.

Supposing some impropriety in my brother's lan-
guage, with regard to the persons in power ; I must
beg leave to observe, that being uttered only to your-
self, very vulgar generosity would as easily pardon the
natural warmth of a brother, as I do from my soul,
and most unaffectedly, forgive the reflection on me
which gave occasion to that warmth in him. At any
rate, this imprudence never went beyond the very
inside of your own family. Both my friends, however,
do insist upon it, that such discourses as your lordship
supposes, may not be confounded with strong censures
upon what are sometimes, though with great impro-
priety, called the king's measures. However, it is the
only comfort they have, if your lordship persists in the
charge, that you charge them with nothing in which
by your lordship's own account, they are not involved
with the very best of men, and best affected subjects
his majesty can boast of.

With regard to these discourses of my brother and
my friend, you say you 4 have done all you could ;
you did not publish them.' I am always fond of doing
justice to your lordship's actions ; you did very rightly
and wisely. If your lordship takes the word ' pub-
lishing ' in the vulgar sBnse, for making generally
known, be pleased to reflect, if your lordship's idea be
founded, that they themselves held these discourses,
and very publicly, in other places (as you infer by an
argument a fortiori from their private conversation in
your house) ; then, my lord, your publication of what
they said to you, would be the most idle and super-
fluous piece of zeal in the world. They have saved you
*the invidious and unpleasant task of revealing private
conversation. If your lordship means by * publication *

1771] TO 129

(as the lawyers sometimes do) any communication, and
would apply it, as a discovery, to persons in power,
it would be a proceeding, I am sure, wholly shocking
to the nobleness of your nature, to make any charge
where, by the circumstances, it is impossible to oppose
to it any kind of defence. But if you meant by pub-
lication, a denunciation as a matter criminal, your
lordship must have, while our laws stand in vigour,
quite other sort of matter and other sort of proof,
I assure you, than I think you could possibly bring
on the occasion.

Whilst I do justice to the rectitude of your conduct,
I cannot acknowledge it as anything of favour, kind-
ness, or friendship ; and, therefore, only wish you
had not said ' you had done all you could ', for you
could do nothing else in common sense and common
justice.

Almost every word in the last page but one of your
letter, carries a sting with it. You charge my friends
with ...

This is all full of various, odd, and complicated
charges and insinuations, but all conveying matter of
invidious, and, to us, most dangerous reflection, easily
understood In the gross, though hard enough to be
developed into the particulars. However, my lord, my
desire of giving complete satisfaction to your lordship
and to justice, induces me to bring it into distinctness
as well as I am able.

By the discourses which your lordship holds to be so
obnoxious and imprudent, I must suppose your lord-
ship must mean, that my friends have, at some time
or other, thrown out some very severe strictures on
the memory of those princes who have so long since
demised. I am compelled, whether I will or no, to
think this the gist of the accusation, because some
gentlemen who have been considered, I know not how
justly, as professed and very public advocates and
1 The draft is here defective.

130 EDMUND BURKE [1771

admirers of that illustrious family, have had no sort of
reason to think their persons to be obnoxious, or their
discourses to be imprudent. Nay, some who were so
attached to that family, as to hold close connexions
with such as pretended, however falsely, to belong
to it, have had no reason to repent of this their close
connexion and enthusiastic attachment, I will not say,
my lord, that my friends may not, in argument, where
they thought things swayed too much to that side, have
spoken rather disrespectfully (but they thought safely)
of a king one hundred years dead ; and others have
heard them do it. People will say many things in
argument, and when they are provoked by what they
think extravagant notions of their adversaries. Nay,
it is not uncommon, when men are got into debates,
to take now one side, now another, of a question, as
the momentary humour of the man and the occasion
called for, with all the latitude that the antiquated
freedom and ease of English conversation among
friends did, in former days, encourage and excuse ;
and, indeed, in speaking to your lordship, they thought
themselves, I dare say, equally safe, whether they
commended or blamed any part, or all, of that indivi-
dual family. As to me, my lord, on whom the light
thrown on my friends is brought to reflect with
undiminished lustre, I assure you that I, have always
spoken and thought on that subject, with all that
perfect calmness which belongs to it. My passions
are not to be roused, either on the side of partiality,
or on that of hatred, by those who lie in their cold lead,
quiet and innoxious, in the chapel of Henry, or the
churches of Windsor Castle or La Trappe. Quorum
Flaminia tegitur cinis atque Latina. My opinion of the
truth or falsehood of facts related in history, is formed
on the common rules of criticism ; my opinion of
characters, on those rules and the common principles
of morality. I have no side in these matters, as your
lordship has a little invidiously put it; but I will
always speak what I think, without caring one farthing
what is the Ion ton upon the subject, either at court

1771] TO 131

or in coffee-houses, until all honest freedom of dis-
quisition, and all manly liberty of speech, shall, by
legal or other power, be conclusively put an end to.
Good reasons may exist for such a restraint, and
perhaps we are at the eve of it ; but until the time
does actually arrive, I shall cherish and cultivate in
myself and those I love, a decent freedom of speech in
public, all freedom of speech among confidential friends,
where other principles than those of decorum are the
lawgivers. To this freedom, your lordship's friends the
ancients (in a language you understand much better
than I do) gave an honourable name, and classed it
among the virtues. But whether a virtue, or only an
enjoyment, I assure your lordship that neither courts
nor town halls, with all they could give of gold boxes
or pensions, would indemnify me for the want of aa
hour's use of it. You tell me that these historical
discussions ' are usually held the tests of principles '.
Possibly they may. I, however, do not apprehend
that I am responsible for the opinions of the vulgar,
till I adopt them. My lord, I have not learned my
public principles in any such wild, unsystematic, and
preposterous a mode. I have taken them from quite
other sources than those of Mr. Carte or M. Rapirx de
Thoyras, My principles enable me to form my judge-
ment upon, men and actions in history, just as they do
in common life, and are not formed out of events and
characters, either present or past. History is a pre-
ceptor of prudence, not of principles. The principles
of true politics are those of morality enlarged ; and
I neither now do, nor ever will, admit of any other.

But when your lordship speaks of tests of public
principles, there is one which you have not mentioned,
but which, let me say, is far above them all; the
actions and conduct of men. Let mine, and those of
my friends, speak for our public principles. If the
last six years are not enough, let us be on our trial for
six more. That, indeed, is in the hands of Providence,
not in ours. But I trust that He who has made honest
fame a lawful object of prayer and pursuit, and the

132 EDMUND BUBKE [1771

possession of it to stand second in the order of his
blessings, will give us means and will to live down all
charges and aspersions. The principles that guide us in
public and in private, as they are not of our devising,
but moulded into the nature and essence of things, will
endure with the sun and moon, long, very, long after
Whig and Tory, Stuart and Brunswick, and all such
miserable bubbles and playthings of the hour, are
vanished from existence and from memory. My
friends and myself may sink into errors, and even into
considerable faults ; but I trust that th,ese principles
will buoy us up again, so that we shall have something
to set against our imperfections, and stand with the
world, at least, not as the worst men or the worst
citizens of our day.

My lord, in charging us with indiscretion, together
with the word c Stuarts ' you have coupled the revolu-
tion. If I were to guess at a charge of indiscretion
from the credit and fortunes of men, I should on this
occasion suppose we had spoken too favourably of
that event. But do you mean the contrary, and,
under this and the foregoing words, seriously intend
to insinuate a charge of Jacobitism ? Then, be it so.
I am afraid that our enemies, who do not allow us
common virtues, will hardly agree with you in giving
us the credit of so amazing and supernatural a fidelity ;
that, at the expense of fame and fortune, and every-
thing dear to man, we should choose to be attached
to a person when he is deserted by the whole world
and by himself, when he has not (as I am told,) so
much as a single Scotch, English, or Irish footman
about him. Truly, we never were so wonderfully
dazzled with the splendour of actual royalty, as to be
captivated with what is not even the shadow of it,
nor ever was so in my time* If you mean that not our
attachments but our principles are of that sort,
favourable to arbitrary power, truly, in our present
connexions, we have brought those principles to the
very worst imaginable market ; when the very best,
in common opinion, was directly open before us. We

1771] TO 133

have built our Chalcedon, with, the chosen part of the
universe full in our prospect. But, my lord, I must
again attribute these reflections to an over- warmth in
your temper, or an error in your memory, or to both.
My brother, my friend, and myself, never have for
a moment thought other of the revolution, than as of
an act, just, necessary, and honourable to this nation,
whose liberty and prosperity it has ensured to this
time, and will for ages, if its true principles be well
adhered to. Your lordship is more indulgent than we
wish. I cannot admit that men have a liberty of
taking, seriously and dogmatically, what side they
please in this question. I do not mean in this, or in
anything, to abridge any man's private liberty ; but
I am sure, that man is not safely placed in any weighty
public trust in this kingdom, who thinks of the revolu-
tion in any other manner than that which I have
mentioned.

This is no matter of historical criticism, it is a moral
conclusion, on an undisputed fact. A man who con-
demns the revolution, has no longer any obnoxious
persons to hang his principles on, and, therefore, he
and they may be made but too convenient to the
executive powers of the time ; but, for this reason,
he is much more dangerous than formerly to the
constitution and liberties of his country. Let me add
further, that a man who praises the fact of the revolu-
tion, and abandons its principles, substituting the
instrumental persons and establishments consequential
to that event, in the place of its ends, is as bad as the
former. To me, indeed, he seems to be infinitely
worse, as he can have no sound moral principles of any
kind, nor be a fit servant for honest government in any
mode whatever. The one has lost his attachment,
the last has deserted his principles ; and the last is,
by far, the most culpable and the most dangerous.
These are, and always were, my sentiments and
expressions on the revolution, drawn from principles
of public law and natural justice, well spun and firmly
wove together, not patched out of parti-coloured rags,

134 EDMUND BUBKE [1771

picked from the filthy dunghills of old women's super-
stitions and children's credulity, not from Fuller's
warming-pan, or Oates's plot, Ferguson's manifesto,
or Manwaring's massacre, no, nor from the paltry
memoirs of that age, which I would as soon take for its
history, as I would take the authority of The Whis-
perer 1 for the events of this reign, or that of the
pensioners of the present court for the character of
Bang George the Second.

I say nothing of Will. Burke's early habits, you
know them. If I were to mention those of my brother,
bis education, not so learned as yours, had been
however, at least as much, in the utmost severity of
Whig- principles ; but I say nothing of that infused
education which is as nothing. We came both of us
pretty early into our own hands, and our principles
are of our own putting together. Those who do not
like them, will have nothing to do with any of us.
I thought, however, that we had, in the main, the
same principles with those of your lordship, and that
this similarity in the great lines was one of the grounds
of your former kindness.

I have spoken fully to the first part of the series of
charges, on the principles of my friends, which are mine
also. You mention at the end of the roll of obnoxious
tenets, which my friends were so indiscreet as to utter
in your company, in former times, the Irish rebellion,
by which I suppose you mean the great rebellion of
1641. I all along suspected that your lordship had
mistaken my discourses with you, for those of my
friends. This convinces me of it. Will. Burke, or my
brother, most certainly never have spoken to you on
the subject. They know little or nothing of the Irish
history. They have never thought on it at all. I have
studied it with more care than is common. I have
spoken to you on the subject, I dare say, twenty times.
This mustard-bowl is my thunder. * Me Me adsum
qui feci: nihil ille nee ausus nee potuit.' Indeed,
I have my opinion on that part of history, which I have
1 A scurrilous publication of the day.

1771] TO 135

often delivered to you, to every one I have conversed
with, on the subject, and which I mean still to deliver,
whenever the occasion calls for it, which is that the
Irish rebellion of 1641 was not only (as our silly things
called ' histories ' call it) not utterly unprovoked, but
that no history I have ever read, furnishes an instance
of any that was so provoked ; and that in almost all
parts of it, it has been extremely and most absurdly
misrepresented.

I assure you I am not single in that opinion. Several
now living think so. The late Mr. Yorke thought so,
and expressed himself so in debate in the House of
Commons, on the nullum tempus Bill, as well as to
myself in conversation. I really thought our history
of Ireland so terribly defective, that I did, and with
success, urge a very learned and ingenious friend 1 of
yours and mine, in the university of Dublin, to under-
take it. I dare say he will do it ably and faithfully ;
but if he thinks that anything unfavourable to his
principles will be deduced from telling the truth, or
cares for vulgar malignity on that occasion, he is much
more below the task than I can prevail on myself to
think him. As to my principles on this subject, I must
leave them to your mercy. I have told you what
I know to be true in fact. If I were to reason on that
event, and to affirm it justifiable, you might say
I showed myself a friend to rebellion. If I blamed it,
you might say I was attached to the doctrines of
passive obedience. This is an ugly dilemma. I don't
remember to have said either the one or the other ;
but if people must make a conclusion concerning my
character from what I did do, and shall say, on this
subject, all that in charity and decency they ought to
conclude is, that I am no lover of oppression, nor
believer in malignant fables ; what they will conclude,
is their affair, not mine. This was necessary to bring
this charge, and, indeed, all the others, from my,
friends to the true object, myself.
1 Dr. Leland.

136 EDMUND BURKE [1772

EDMUND BTJKKE, ESQ., TO WM. DOWDESWELL, ESQ.
Beaconsfield, October 21, 1772.

MY BEAU DOWDESWELL,

Since I received your letter, I have done all in my
power to arrange myself for a journey to Pull Court.
I find it impossible. I must therefore content myself
with giving you a short, and, I fear, a very imperfect
sketch of the state of affairs, so far as it has come to my
knowledge. I took it for granted, that you had seen
Lord Rockingham in his progress northwards, or
I certainly would have written to you long "before this.
I know Lord Rockingham expected to meet you at
Harrowden . By the turn of your letter I mus t presume
that he was disappointed.

The East India business is the principal cause of
calling Parliament together before Christmas. Whether
foreign politics furnish any additional reasons for this
early meeting, I know not. Things both at home and
abroad are in a critical situation. The East India
Company, without any diminution, even with a consider-
able increase of their trade, are not solvent. They owe
eight hundred thousand pounds to the bank. In the
present state of credit this money is wanted ; and
the directors of this latter company would be very
clamorous and troublesome, if they were not quieted
by a persuasion that Government would do something
to enable the East India Company to discharge this
enormous debt, which is double the amount of the
ordinary annual transaction between the two com-
panies. In the last direction, when Mr. Purling was
in the chair, the court accepted drafts from their
servants in India that exceed a million. These drafts
were, in their quantity, beyond all reason; and in
their mode and principle, were in direct opposition to the
orders which had been repeatedly given to the presi-
dencies abroad. The drafts were chiefly for expenses
incurred for building and fortifications. They ought
most undoubtedly not to have been accepted, if the

1772] TO WILLIAM DOWDESWELL 137

court of directors, or at least those in the department
of treasury, had done their duty. Colebrooke values
himself upon his freedom from any share in this
unjustifiable acceptance, the chief cause of the difficulty
that now embarrasses the company. The tea-agree-
ment is now at its winding up, and has added some
hundreds of thousands to the debt. It was certainly
a most improvident bargain. The directors have had
three schemes in contemplation. One, to increase their
capital : a second, to borrow a million upon bonds :
the third, that Government this year, instead of the
discharge of other debts, would pay off 1,200,000, of
what it owes to the company. This last scheme, some
of them think, with time given for the tea-composition,
and a reduction of about four per cent, dividend, would
enable the company to go on until a reform of their
affairs abroad can be effected by means of the super-
vision, or by some other method. This seems to be
the scheme most approved by the chairs. Others, with
more resolution, and to all appearance with more sense,
propose to reduce their dividend to six per cent., and
thus to exonerate themselves at one stroke of the charge
of four hundred thousand pounds, into which they had
been tricked"i>y the court. Then they would stand
upon equal terms with administration ; and as their
whole chance of getting anything would depend upon
relieving the company, the company might prescribe,
instead of receiving, the terms of the agreement. Take
what course they will, the difficulties wBl be very great.
You will ask what the Treasury has been doing all tjiis
time. While Lord North was in the country, his
correspondence with the company was amicable, and
in the style of mutual accommodation. But soon after
his arrival in town, his manner was extremely altered.
He promised an answer to the propositions of the court
of directors in a week. Three weeks are elapsed, and
there is no answer. Papers are daily ordered by the
Treasury from the India House j and by their nature,
they seem to be materials provided for an attack upon
the company. In the meantime, the language of the
F 3

138 EDMUND BURKE [1772

court-runners is to the last degree hostile to that body.
I am told Lord Mansfield declares publicly, that the
company is unequal to the magnitude of its circum-
stances ; that the Crown ought to resume the powers
of peace and war granted to them, and reduce the
company to a mere trading corporation. Next to the
grand object of the destruction of Wilkes, the leading
object in the politics of the court is, to seize upon the
East India patronage of offices. In this hopeful scheme
they will be joined, in a manner, by the whole nation.
Their grand difficulty is in the object itself, not in
getting Parliament to concur in any act of violence. To
the attainment of their end, mere despotic violence is
not sufficient, or they would have attained it long ago.
How Lord North will appear before the House, after
suffering five years to elapse, without doing anything to
enable the company to keep its agreement with Govern-
ment, if they were deficient in power, or to compel
them if they were fraudulent, or to release them if they
were not in circumstances, I cannot guess ; other than
that he is conscious he appears before a tribunal .where
he is always to be acquitted, and the rest of the world
always to be condemned.

I hear of nothing else with which the Ministry mean
to entertain their friends at the meeting. Lord Rocking-
ham wrote lately to Keppel. He seemed strongly
disposed to think, that to the Ministry and their friends
the business ought to be left, and that we ought to be
in no haste to go to the meeting. The Duke of Rich-
mond is of that opinion ; and, indeed, as far as my
poor sentiments go, I concur with them most heartily.
I am tired of hearing, as an answer to all argument,
6 You want our places.' The determined majority
within doors, which, supporting no minister, is blindly
devoted to the court, the treachery of our allies in
opposition, and the unsystematic conduct of many of
our friends, otherwise excellent and sensible men,
makes the situation of active persons on our side of the
question very humiliating and vexatious. Abroad,
things are not a jot better. The people have fallen into

1772] TO WILLIAM DOWDESWELL 139

a total indifference to any matters of public concern.
I do not suppose that there was ever anything like
this stupor in any period of our history. In this
condition there is no dignity in carrying on a teasing
and vexatious sort of debate, without any other effect
than pelting ministers now and then, and keeping
honest gentlemen from their dinners, while we make
trifling and ineffectual divisions in the House, and the
nation quietly acquiesces in those measures which we
agitate with so much eagerness. When opposition has
not some sort of correspondence with the feelings of the
people at large, it only looks like personal discontent.
This is the case at present ; and it is very absurd in us,
who sacrifice everything to character, to give ourselves
much trouble when our efforts are no longer seconded
by the public sense ; and when all our labour tends
only to lower that character for which we have con-
tended. If anything can rouse the people to a sense of
their situation, it is your absenting yourselves from
business. To attend the House on great questions
without saying anything upon them, may not always
be easy, nor even safe. It may admit disagreeable
constructions. Absence from those questions will
scarcely admit of more than one construction, and that
the true one. This mode of absence will have a better
effect than a secession, (the time for which is past,)
because, as you are not bound to anything, you may
resume your attendance whenever the situation of
things shall make an attendance advisable. Every-
thing will, however, depend in this, as in all things,
upon concert. The more I consider our circumstances,
and the nature of the business which the House is to be
engaged in, the fonder I grow of Lord Bockingham's
measure, which appears to me politic, sober, and
manly ; but, observe, that I am not apt to be long
fond of anything which you do not thoroughly approve.
We have not often differed hitherto, and I will take care
that we shall differ as little in time to come. Think of
this business, communicate with Lord Rockinghara
upon it. and let there be a settled parole for our friends

140 EDMUND BU&KE [1772

by the middle of next month. You know, that if you
and Lord Buckingham should, on consultation, adopt
a plan of more activity, why, I am ready, and will
certainly follow wherever you lead me. Our principles
are the same, and it is of little consequence in what
manner we conduct the campaign, when we are morally
sure of being defeated. All we can do is to save our
honour.

Pray let me hear from you, provided you cannot let
me see you pretty soon. You will now think of quitting
the country. I hope you do not forget that this place
is not five miles from your road. Will. Burke gives you
many thanks for your obliging invitation, but bids me
tell you that nothing, except its being necessary to make
you Chancellor of the Exchequer, could prevail on him
to take such a journey on horseback. Adieu f and
believe me with the greatest sincerity and affection,
dear Dowdeswell,

Your most faithful friend, and obedient ervant,

EDM. BTJBKE.

EDMUND BTJBKE, ESQ., TO WILLIAM DOWDESWELL, ESQ.
Broad Sanctuary, November 7, 1772.

MY DEAR Sm,

I received your packet here, in town, where some
business called me a few days ago. and where it still
detains me. Your servant waits at Beaconsfield for my
answer ; I could not dispatch him a moment earlier.
Sir G. Savile is in town ; I took your paper to him last
night. His nephew, Lord Lumley, was just preparing
to set out for France, and we were not able to read over
what you sent with any attention until this morning
about eleven o'clock ; other matters unavoidably
engaged me for the remainder of the day ; so that it is
near nine in the evening before I am able to sit down
to thank you for your ample and satisfactory communi-
cation of your sentiments, on the very delicate situation
in which we stand, and the very important and difficult
business we have before us. You do not write on the

1772] TO WILLIAM DOWDESWELL 141

subject like one who has not been used for some time
to consider it ; at least, your fallow adds to your
fertility ; for I am of Sir G. Savile's mind, who thinks
your paper one of the ablest discussions of a public
matter that he has ever read. I have not time to give
you the detail of our conversation ; in many points he
concurs heartily with you. In India politics, you know
he has opinions of his own, and in consequence declines
taking any active part in that business.

I see as we proceed in the discussion of the nice and
complex matter that makes the subject of your paper,
that it will be absolutely impracticable to arrive at any
fixed determination without a personal interview. At
this time of the year, it cannot be either at Pull Court
or at Wentworth. Harrowden is more central, and
there Lord Rockingham might, without material
inconvenience to any of them, collect the greatest part
of his confidential friends. Whether you meet there,
or not, it is clearly necessary that you should be both in
town, in order to give weight to the final resolution you
shall take, and to procure a general and timely com-
munication to all your friends. Pressed as I am in time,
forgive a hasty observation or two, on the subject of
your letter. I have no leisure to send you anything
regular or digested. In the main, I have the satis-
faction of going along with you, in most of your reason-
ings . t I believe that a great deal of the difference in
opinion concerning the plan of non-attendance in this
session, which prevails among Lord Kockingham's
friends, has arisen from our not exactly understanding
one another on the extent of the measure, and the
motives for proposing it. It is not suggested from
choice. It is upon the idea that nothing can be
attempted in Parliament, with any hope of success ;
and that the people without doors are cold and uncon-
cerned in the contest which is carried on between us
and the ministers. If either of these fail in fact, the
measure is taken up on mistaken principles. If both
considerations are founded, then it is to be shown what
else it is that promises better

142 EDMUND BURKE [1772

Without all question, if this absence should appear
the result of a supine indolence and neglect of duty,
it must have the worst effect imaginable upon our
character. If it cannot be made expressive of the
strongest and most indignant feeling and resentment,
of the whole train of conduct adopted by the majority
of the two Houses, it were better to continue our
tiresome attendance, our fruitless debates, and our
feeble divisions for six years to come, in the manner
we have dragged through them for the six years that
are past. But I have not yet been able to persuade
myself, that your absence from Parliament at the
opening of the next session can pass by without making
a strong impression on the public. Your character for
diligence will not permit your absence to be thought
the effect of inactivity ; your known integrity would
render every imputation of corruption ridiculous ; and
your number, weight, and consequence, would neces-
sarily incite an inquiry into your reasons for a proce-
dure so contrary to the usual tenor of your conduct.
The Ministry and their partisans may be depended
upon for an attack on you ; and this attack calling for
an explanation, you will lay your reasons before the
public with more grace, and probably with better
effect than if they appeared previous to the step you
had taken. It is always imprudent to suffer the previous
public agitation of any measure that you are resolved
to pursue : better take it first, and pledge your people
for its subsequent justification. This is my idea of the
spirit of the non-attendance proposed by Lord Rocking-
ham and the Duke of Richmond. I concurred in it most
heartily: not without a sense of the inconveniences
which may attend it, but considering it as the only
thing which remained for us to do. We have tried
everything else.

With regard to the extent of the plan, I never under-
stood it to amount to a total secession ; and in this
particular I think I have the happiness of approaching
very near to some of your ideas. The absence, I
thought, would be proper on their speech and address,

1772] TO WILLIAM DOWDESWELL 143

and upon those points which are generally considered
as the measures of Government/ and to which we are
morally certain that the House is mortgaged to the
court. The attendance upon other points will mark
the distinction we mean to keep in view the more
strongly.

There is another point which you rather agitate
(I imagine) than directly propose ; that of an absolute
secession, and upon some definite measure. In this
matter I have some difficulties. I do not look upon
such a secession, upon any proposition now probably
in view, to be at all practicable, because it supposes
the existence of that very spirit which we want, and
which, by the proposed step, we wish to excite. Our
people who now hesitate upon a limited plan of absence,
will never be brought to hear of an absolute retreat.
Such a secession leaves us without a power of returning
with any sort of decency, let opportunities invite, or
circumstances demand it, never so strongly. I should,
besides, very much doubt whether any merely political
question, such as the convention in Sir Robert Walpole's
time, or the compromise about Falkland's Islands
which happened in our own, (even supposing them the
worst in their kind,) no, nor hardly any prodigal grant
to the Crown, can justify a secession from Parliament ;
and though we should take that occasion to review
former matters of grievance, and to make the whole an
accumulated charge on the majority, certainly nothing
in that mass would be much attended to, but that
which was the immediate occasion of the breach ; and
in spite of anything we could do to the contrary, the
whole would be tried upon that single issue. Nothing
can to my ideas ,make that formal, general, instan-
taneous secession proper, but some direct act which
shakes a fundamental part of the constitution ; and
that, too, immediately and visibly. Such an act has
been done, but we have very unfortunately, I think,
let pass the time for making any effectual use of it.
The mode proposed seems wefl suited to that profession
of despair, which does not arise from the resentment

L44 EDMUND BUKKE [1772

of a single act, but of a series of conduct of a dangerous
and unconstitutional tendency. It does not seem to
me to be attended with the mischievous futility of
a middle measure. It has strength sufficient for its
magnitude. Everything which I say, in favour of this
partial secession, is upon the presumption that the
concurrence in it will be general. If this should not be
the case, I very readily admit, nothing worse can be
thought of. I join with you, too, in the absolute
necessity of Lord Bockingham's being in town, if his
health will at all admit it. I do not forget the disarray
and confusion we were in upon the business of the
Jury Bill.

You seem to think that foreign affairs make a princi-
pal part of the reasons of the court for calling us
together before Christmas. As a speculation on the
state of those affairs, you seem to be well-grounded in
that supposition ; but I can find nothing, in the dis-
course of those who disperse the court- word before the
opening of the session, to support it. I doubt much
whether they are yet come to anything like a resolution
on that subject.

With regard to the East India difficulties, they most
certainly enter largely into our business. When I
thought of the reduction of dividend, as a means for
their immediate relief, I considered it not as a com-
pulsory measure by authority of Parliament, but as
an act of their own ; necessary, as I conceived, for
disengaging them from the Ministry, and treating upon
terms something more approaching to equality. But
you have entirely satisfied me, that if the courtiers
have a deeper and more regular design, thaa at this
instant they profess, upon the company, the fall of
stock will infinitely facilitate their project ; and that
this reduction of dividend will have such an effect
upon ,the stock is indisputable. On the whole, I can
scarcely conceive a more delicate part than we have
to act in this business. By an unhappy and rare
conjunction of circumstances, the designs of the court
coincide exactly with the frenzy of the people. The

1772] TO WILLIAM DOWDESWELL 145

greater number of those who form an opposition,
naturally take the colour of their opinions from the
latter ; so that the management of your Mends
becomes a matter of, at least, as much difficulty as
the opposition to the enemy. You remark very rightly
on the conduct of all parties in the East India Company
upon the question of last year's committee, and on
their behaviour in that committee. I agree with you,
that without their own vigorous and unanimous efforts
in their own cause, our endeavours will be of no service.
In their present situation, nothing is more certain than
that they will make no such efforts. They are divided
into the most rancorous factions None of them mean,
(I am persuaded, ) to make a direct sacrifice of the trust
they have, in so large a part, of the rights as well as
the properties of the subjects ; but their mutual blind
passions and resentments will make them do it without
intending it ; and the strong distress of their affairs
has so frightened the body of the proprietors for their
present and future dividends, that they are the less
attentive to the preservation of their privileges of
a higher order. They have no leader of ability, fore-
sight, and honesty sufficient to state to them, in their
general courts, the real politics of their situation.
Sir G. Colebrooke is not in our hands, nor has he ever
consulted with Lord Rockingham or any of his friends,
upon one step which he has taken, or 'which he is to take.
You have heard that he offered me the first place in
a supervisorship of three, with great concurrence of the
whole body of direction. I did not think it then right
to accept the offer ; yet after such a mark of confidence,
you might imagine that nothing, at least of parlia-
mentary use, would be kept from me ; but the fact is,
that he has acquainted me with nothing. He is shy
and reserved; and while he has complied with the
requisitions of the Treasury, at least as extensively as
he ought, he has not communicated a single paper to
me. It is true he did not refuse to send me copies of
such papers as I should desire ; but he showed so little
willingness in the business, that I have not yet thought

146 EDMUND BUHKE [1772

fit to trouble him, I "will see him before you come
to town, and will collect either from him or from
some others, such matter as may lead us better into
the detail of their affairs. Without such instruc-
tion, without better support from the company,
and without a total change in the sentiments of
almost all our friends, the absence from Parliament,
which I think proper for the whole, will be absolutely
necessary with regard to us. It is impossible for me to
enter at large with you into all the matters you have
discussed in your very masterly paper. You have my
full powers to, decide for me as you please. When I see
you, which I hope and request may be as soon as you
can, I may learn more facts. I would say a great deal
more, but I am hourly called away by the business
that brought me to town. Pray urge Lord Kockingham
to come to town ; all depends upon it. I send you
back your observations, with a note or two of Sir G.
Savile's upon them. I have no copy of your paper, and
lest yourself should have none, I send it back to you ;
but would very much wish to have a copy sent to me
for the Duke of Richmond's use, and the satisfaction of
some other friends. To conclude, let me again and
again entreat that we may not be left at the opening of
the session without a leader, or the least idea of a plan
of conduct. The time gives you very little leisure for
deliberation.

I am, my dear sir,

Ever faithfully yours,

EDM. BUEKE.

EDMUND BUEKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
ROCKINGHAM

Broad Sanctuary, November 11, 1772.

MY DEAB LOED,

By this time you have received the whole of Mr.
Dowdeswell's thoughts and correspondence, on the sub-
ject of your lordship's proposition. I confess, on the

1772] TO THE MAEQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 147

very first suggestion, I entered into it with great good
hking : but one condition always attended my appro-
bation ; that is, the unanimous, cheerful, and zealous
concurrence of all your lordship's Mends. If the plan
were by them unanimously adopted, manfully avowed,
and resolutely adhered to, I do not entertain the
slightest doubt that it would come up to the most
sanguine expectations. But I find so little concurrence,
that it seems to me the last degree of imprudence, in
such a diversity of opinion, to hazard a measure, the
whole effect of which depends upon unanimity. I
thought it a mark of confidence that was proper, to show
your lordship's letter to Lord G. Germain. He argued
much, and truly not without cogency upon the subject.
He looked upon a concurrence even of your lordship's
particular friends, in any plan of non-attendance, as
a thing absolutely impracticable. He did not think
that we are strong enough, either in numbers or popu-
larity ; or that there is enough of discontent among
the people without doors to give the measure any sort
of effect. He apprehends that we might rather run the
risk of being forgotten by the public, than of exciting
in them the spirit that we wish to raise. Besides that,
there are so many other persons in opposition, not only
unconnected, but extremely adverse, who would not
fail to take advantage of our secession (however
qualified) to succeed to our situations, and to accuse
us of having meanly relinquished them, that we can
never propose it with any hope either of credit or
advantage. He was very sure, that neither of the
Townshends, the father or the son, would enter into it ;
as contrary to the opinions of both, and to all the
feelings of the younger and more active of the two.
I told him that your lordship (as he might, indeed, see
by your letter) entertained the idea only as a matter
to be considered. The fact is, Mr. DowdeswelTs idea
of absence does not go to above a fortnight. Sir G.
Savile is very doubtful ; Sir Charles Saunders and
Lord F. Cavendish disapprove. Your lordship's
northern friends are generally adverse, and none of

148 EDMUND BURKE [1772

them earnest for it ; so that the proposition, as far as
the sense of your lordship's friends can be collected, is,
upon the whole, disliked. Lord George Germain seems
rather to approve of our course during the last session,
where we lay by until fair opportunity of opposition
offered ; but that our attendance, though inactive,
ought to be regular, in order to show that, though we
may be silent, we are nevertheless vigilant. I am
persuaded that we cannot follow any plan of this kind
in the approaching session. They will, because they
must, lay something immediately before us, and we
must immediately take our part in it. But nothing
can be done without your lordship's early appearance
in town, ten days at least before the meeting. This
wish and opinion of mine is always in subordination to
the care of your lordship's health, which is, and ought
to be, our first consideration.

The ministers, I believe, have nothing very precisely
determined with relation to Indian affairs. *I am told,
and I do not think it wholly improbable from many
circumstances, that Lord North was against our meet-
ing before Christmas, but that Lord Mansfield urged
on the early summons. Notwithstanding Lord North's
procrastinating disposition, he must do something with
regard to the company's insolvency. He must, I think,
accept of one, or other, of their propositions. Mr.
Dowdeswell inclines to the scheme of the company's
receiving the debt from Government, as the most eligible
measure, and is, by all means, for keeping up the
dividend. His reasons ar^ certainly cogent, but, as yet,
we have the matter very imperfectly before us.

I saw a letter to Sir Charles Saunders from Sir Charles
Knowles. He speaks of the conclusion of peace between
Turkey and Eussia as almost certain, and this will
probably draw with it some sort of pacification of
Poland, and may thereby ensure the continuance of
peace in the rest of Europe, for some time longer.
I cannot find that foreign affairs are intended to form
any part of our business at the meeting. If your lord-
ship gives me notice when you will be at Harrowden,

1772] TO THE MARQUIS OP BOCKOTGHAM 149

I shall be glad to wait upon you there, but, indeed, I had
much rather meet you in London. I am, with my best
respects to Lady Rockingham,

My dear lord, ever your lordship's most

obliged and obedient Humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

I hear that Charles Fox's speedy coming into the
Treasury is expected. This event would not, I hope,
prove sinister to a very just claim ; 1 and would
prevent much oppression to individuals, and, I am
quite certain, a very considerable loss .to the public.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE DUKE OP
RICHMOND

November 17, 1772.
MY DEAR LORD,

I am much obliged to your grace for your very kind
letter of the 15th, which I received by the machine.
Whatever others might have imagined, I never thought
your grace too tenacious of your opinions. If you had
rather leaned to that extreme, I should not have
esteemed you the less for it. I have seen so many
wof ul examples of the effect of levity, both that winch
arises from temper and that which is owing to interest,
that a small degree of obstinacy is a quality not very
odious in my eyes, whether it be complexional, or from
principle. When a man makes great sacrifices to Ids
honest opinion, it is no wonder that he should grow
fond of it. I am sure that nothing can hinder -public
spirit from being very suspicious, except great con-
sistency. Those who do not much admire the security
itself, nor perhaps the virtue it secures, will represent
it as a mask, and perhaps the virtue as an obstinate
and intractable disposition. Those who think in that
manner of your grace, form that opinion on your
steady attachment to your principles. They know
nothing of your compliance and practicability^ in

1 A claim, of Richard Burke's to some land in Grenada.

150 EDMUND BURKE [1772

carrying on business among your friends, I can bear
witness that it has always been full as much as was
necessary towards keeping a great system well com-
pacted together in all its parts. I have known some
good effects of that practicability. I agree, too, that
there have been instances where we may now have
reason to wish you had less facility. After all, every
political question that I have ever known, has had so
much of the pro and con in it, that nothing but the
success could decide which proposition ought to have
been adopted. People in a constant minority can have
no success, and therefore, have not even that uncertain
way of solving any problem of political conduct.
I believe we have had more divisions among ourselves
than we ought to have had, and have made many
mistakes in our conduct, both as a body and as indivi-
duals. Comparing our proceedings with any abstract
standard, we have been very faulty and imperfect ;
but if you try yourselves by a comparison with any
other existing body of men, I believe you will find
a more decent, regular, consistent, and prudent series
of proceeding among yourselves, than among any of
them, or all of them put together. Have you in any
place where you have had an interest undone your-
selves so completely, as a certain party which was lately
in possession of the corporation of London ? a set of
gentlemen who cannot plead innocence and simplicity
as an excuse for their innumerable blunders. In the
House of Lords, have the chiefs of you ever framed
such injudicious motions, paid so little attention to
your mutual honour, or contrived to reconcile your
proceedings at one time to your declarations at
another, with so little finesse and dexterity as some
persons of very high name in this country ? You have
not, like them, while they were miserably distracted
among themselves, formed a thousand childish and
mischievous plots, to break to pieces the only people
who could possibly serve them, and in whom, if they
had common sense, they would, for their own sakes,
have placed great confidence, as well as have endea-

1772] TO THE DUKE OF RICHMOND 151

voured to acquire the like from them, by every method
of fair and conciliatory conduct. If you turn from
them to the factions that make what is called adminis-
tration, surely you are guiltless of that tissue of
absurdities by which Government, that by mere abuses
can hardly fee more than odious, has been rendered
the most contemptible thing in the world. Look at
home, one has much to complain of. Look abroad,
one has ten times more. So that on the whole, I am
inclined to think that the faults in your body are no
more than the ordinary frailties of human nature ;
some of them, too, inseparably attached to the cause
of all your strength and reputation. You are, in
general, somewhat languid, scrupulous, and unsys-
tematic ; But men of high birth and great property are
rarely as enterprising as others, and for reasons that are
very natural. Men of integrity are curious, sometimes
too curious, in the choice of means ; and great bodies
can seldom be brought to system and discipline, except
by instruments that, while you are out of Government,
you have not in your power. However, with all these
faults, it is better you should be rich, and honest, and
numerous, than needy and profligate, and composed
of a few desperate politicians ; though they have
advantages in their own way, which you must always
want. It is with such reflections I compose and com-
fort myself, in the occasional dejections and vexations
that I am subject to like other men, and which your
grace has seen but too much of ; and they will in my
cool moments always put me at ease, and reconcile me
to everything you do, as long as I can act in public,
whether I agree in opinion with the rest of you, or not,
As to your grace's situation in the party and in the
world, it would be the greatest injustice to Lord
Buckingham, not to say that he sees and feels his
obligations to you in their full extent, and has often
spoke, as he ought, of the unparalleled part you have
acted. His nearest and oldest friends are, much in the
same degree, your own. There can be but one opinion
on your conduct and abilities. With regard to others,

152 EDMUND BURKE , [1772

your grace is very sensible that you have not made
your court to the world, by forming yourself to a flatter-
ing exterior ; but you put me in mind of Mr. Wilkes's
observation when he makes love, that he will engage
in such a pursuit against the handsomest fellow in
England, and only desires a month's start of his rival
on account of his face. Your month is past ; and if
your grace does not, every one else does remark, how
much you grow on the public, by the exertion of real
talent and substantial virtue. You know you have
already some fruits of them, and you will gather in
such fruits every day, until your barns are full as they
can hold. One thing, and but one, I see against it,
which is, that your grace dissipates your mind into
too great a variety of minute pursuits, all of which,
from the natural vehemence of your temper, you
follow with almost equal passion. It is wise, indeed,
considering the many positive vexations, and the
innumerable bitter disappointments of pleasure in the
world, to have as many resources of satisfaction as
possible within one's power. Whenever we concentre
the mind on one sole object, that object and life itself
must go together. But though it is right to have
reserves of employment, still some one object must be
kept principal ; greatly and eminently so ; and the
other masses and figures must preserve their due sub-
ordination, to make out the grand composition of an
important life. Upon these sound principles, which
your grace would require in some of those arts that
you protect, your public business, with, all its dis-
couragements and mortifications, ought to be so much
the principal figure with you, that the rest, in com-
parison of it, should be next to nothing ; and even in
that principal figure of public life, it will be necessary
to avoid the exquisiteness of an over-attention to
small parts ; and to over-precision, and to a spirit of
detail, which acute understandings, and which, without
great care, all precise reasoners are apt to get into ;
and which gives, in some degree, a sort of hardness,
and what you connoisseurs call the dry manner, to

1772] TO THE DUKE OF RICHMOND 153

all our actions. Your grace has abundant reason not
to be discouraged from the great exhibition that I wish
to see you chiefly intent upon. In the course of public
business, by degrees, your grace develops your true
character. You would be in a bad condition, if, with
the doors shut after the manner of the French, but
on the principle of the English constitution, you were
to be tried only by your peers. But this is not so ;
business, by degrees, brings various kinds and descrip-
tions of men into contact with you ; and they all go
off with the best impressions, and communicate them
to the world. Why have I rambled thus far ? Why,
truly, because it became an amusement to my mind ;
and that I see your grace wants some amusement too.
But is the indulgence of a loquacious vein any amuse-
ment ? I will try by going on further. I agree with
your grace, that our condition is very bad. It is
certainly so. It can be concealed, neither from friends
nor enemies. The time for secession is past, and no
other such opportunity is in prospect. It would have
done, I am persuaded ; but none of our friends are
to blame for this rejection of that idea. On the first
proposal, Lord Temple, Lord Lyttelton, and Lord
Oamden showed such invincible repugnance to it, that
in your then situation it could not be thought of ;
and it was impossible at that time to take a separate
walk from them. With regard to the transaction of
1767, I do recollect that I, as well as others, did, in
some particulars, differ from your grace's opinion.
I think you will do me the justice to believe, that it
was not out of any particular regard to Bedford House.
Indeed, independently of my former observations,
I saw clearly, during the supper at Lord Buckingham's,
the most unamiable dispositions ; a behaviour in some
of them that was scarcely polite ; and a reserve, which
wine, circulated briskly until the sunbeams drove us
from it, was not able to dispel, though these people
are not indeed candid, but naturally very loose and
careless talkers. Bat I thought I saw too, that the
whole treaty, on the part of the Duke of Grafton and

154 EDMUND BURKE [1772

Lord Camden, and much more another, was merely
an imposition both on you and on Oonway; princi-
pally meant to bring the latter to act the part he did
afterwards ; and I can scarcely forbear being still of
opinion, they never meant to bring you in, except on
terms that, when they became explicit, you could
neither have accepted nor rejected, without great
detriment and disgrace to you. I conclude this, not
only from the closet disavowal in the middle of your
proceedings, but from a conversation with General
Conway, a few days after all was broke off, in which
he very frankly told me, that the intention never was
to bring in the whole even of your body, but about
half a dozen (I think) of the principal people ; and to
let you make way for the rest as opportunities should
offer. Constituted as the remaining part of the
Ministry was, this was a novel plan of power which
would enable you to serve your cause. Your grace,
I dare say, recollects that we did all, in effect and
substance, at last accede to your grace's opinion ;
when, after a long consultation, protracted to near two
o'clock in the morning, and after frequent messages
backward and forward, your grace at length carried
the ultimatum to General Conway, and never received
an answer from that day to this. On the whole, I saw
so little real intention towards you at that time, either
in the Duke of Grafton, or Lord Camden, or General
Conway, or in the first mover, that I cannot, without
great difficulty, attribute our present condition to our
rejection of the proposals of th,e court ; for, in effect,
if they had been such as your grace thought them, the
treaty never could have broken off on account of
Bedford House, which had broken with you, and that
in a manner equally insolent and scandalous, before
that business concluded. Your grace remembers well
the character of the Duke of Newcastle, who always
treated with his enemies, in beginning by putting
himself into their power, and by offering more than
they would think of asking ; and whose jealousy, little
short of frenzy, of Lord Bockingham, about objects

1772] TO THE DUKE OF RICHMOND loo

which he neither would nor could have held, drove him
headlong into any snare his adversaries laid for Mm.
Lord Albemarle, too, had his attention to the Duke of
Bedford ; but I must say with as great, as just sus-
picions of him and his, as with attachment to you,
on the total. Yet it was very necessary to look to
both these persons ; and they, at least one of them,
and the most material, required nothing more than
an empty compliment ; and this the court knew, or
might have known, as well as we did. But whether
I am mistaken or not, the thing being passed, it only
gives pain to attribute our misfortunes to our faults,
where circumstances will not suffer our repentance
to amend them. Bad they are indeed ! but where
things are desperate with regard to power, they are
not always in a situation the most unfavourable to
character. Decorum, firmness, consistency, courage,
patient, manly perseverance, these are the virtues of
despair. They are worth something, surely; and none
has profited so much of that situation as your grace, nor
could you have shown of what materials you are made
in any other. Persons in your station of life ought to
have long views. You people of great families and
hereditary trusts and fortunes, are not like such as
I am, who, whatever we may be, by the rapidity of our
growth, and even by the fruit we bear, and flatter
ourselves that, while we creep on the ground, we belly
into melons that are exquisite for size and flavour,
yet still are but annual plants, that perish with oui
season, and leave no sort of traces behind us. You,
if you are what you ought to be, are in my eye the
great oaks that shade a country, and perpetuate youi
benefits from generation to generation. The imme-
diate power of a Duke of Richmond, or a Marquis of
Rockingham, is not so much of moment ; but if their
conduct and example hand down their principles to
their successors, then their houses become the public
repositories and offices of record for the constitution ;
not like the Tower, or Rolls-chapel, where it is searched
for and sometimes in vain, in rotten parchments under

156 EDMUND BURKE [1772

dripping and perishing walls, but in full vigour, and
acting with vital energy and power, in the character
of the leading men and natural interests of the country.
It has been remarked that there were two eminent
families at Rome, that for several ages were distin-
guished uniformly by opposite characters and prin-
ciples, the Claudian and Valerian. The former were high
and haughty, but public-spirited, firm, and active, and
attached to the aristocracy. The latter were popular
in their tempers, manners, and principles. So far the
remark : but I add that any one, who looks attentively
to their history, will see that the balance of that famous
constitution was kept up for some ages, by the personal
characters, dispositions, and traditionary politics of
certain families, as much as by anything in the laws
and orders of the State; so that I do not look upon
your time or lives lost, if, in this sliding away from the
genuine spirit of the country, certain parties, if possible,
if not the heads of certain families, should make it
their business, by the whole course of their lives,
principally by their example, to mould into the very
vital stamina of their descendants, those principles
which ought to be transmitted pure and unmixed to
posterity. Neither Lord Rockingham nor your grace
have children : however, you do not want successors
of your blood ; nor, I trust, heirs of your qualities and
your virtues, and of the power which sooner or later
will be derived from them. This I say to comfort
myself, and possibly your grace, in the present melan-
choly view of our affairs. * Although the field is lost
all is not lost, 5 to give you a line of your Milton, who
has somewhat reconciled you to poetry, and he is
an able advocate. For the rest, I can only tell your
grace, that . . . *

1 Here the draft breaks off.

1772] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 157

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
BUCKINGHAM

Broad Sanctuary, Thursday, Nov. 19, 1772.

MY DEAR LORD,

I cannot attribute the opening of my letter to mere
curiosity, except it were the interested curiosity of
some base politician. I should think the villain might
be traced, and in some way or other, the principal or
the instrumental delinquent punished. A few days
before I had received your lordship's by Mr. Thesiger,
I wrote pretty largely by the same conveyance, on the
subject of my conversation at Pall Mall, and on the
opinions of such other friends as I could collect.
They were, on the whole, adverse to the idea I sug-
gested to them. As I have stated this matter o much
at large, and as your lordship has received Mr. Dowdes-
welPs long and able letter, it is not necessary to say
more by this unconfidential conveyance.

I am somewhat anxious about your lordship's pre-
sence at the meeting. This wish is always in sub-
ordination to the demands of your health. But as
I hope you have not lately gone backward, I incline
to flatter myself, that a journey hither would do you
more good than harm. It would free us from a great
awkwardness of situation. If this meets your lordsiup
at Wentworth, it will be rather late for my purpose,
which I might indeed have considered, when I sat down
to write. If however, unluckily, I have not blundered
so much as I hope I have, I have just to mention to your
lordship that the East India Company had yesterday
received a message from the Treasury, the report of
whose contents immediately sunk the stock, I was
told, seven per cent. : *as the message, which desired
to know what plans for their relief the company had
to lay before Parliament, conveyed in the end very
strongly, an implication that they would not be per-
mitted to make any dividend. This is all the news

158 EDMUND BURKE [1772

I hear. My respectful compliments to Lady Rocking-
ham ; and believe me, with the greatest truth and
affection,

My dear lord,

Your lordship's most obedient, and
obliged humble servant,
EDM. BTIRKE.

EDMUND BTJRKE, ESQ., TO THE MAEQUIS OF
ROCKINGHAM

Beaconsfidd, Monday , November 23, 1772.

MY DEAB LOBD,

I came hither this day, in order to settle some little
affairs, having been rather disagreeably detained in
town for about a fortnight. A few hours after my
arrival your lordship's messenger brought me your
most obliging letter of the 20th. I am pleased that you
have taken your final resolution of spending your
holidays at Wentworth. As ' the session approaches,
I see the probability of a full attendance of your friends
almost vanish. Mr. Dowdeswell will not be in town at
the meeting. I think it rather likely that the Duke of
Richmond will continue in the country. On the whole,
I am satisfied that your presence in London, with
danger to your health, would hurt us all much more,
both in our f eelings and our interests, than a temporary
absence which may tend to give us a longer, a more
effectual, and a more satisfactory use of your counsel
and assistance. We will do the best we can, that is,
we will do as little as we can. For, in truth, what is
there left for us to do ? In the present state of the
popular opinions, of the designs of the court, of the
distractions of the company, what can one or two
effect, utterly unsupported, if not directly thwarted,
by nine-tenths of those who upon common occasions
are the only friends we have to rely upon ? This is our
state, and we must submit to it.

Your lordship sees I confine my present consideration

1772] TO THE MARQUIS OF BOCKINGHAM 159

entirely to the affairs of the East India Company,
because I am persuaded that, for the present, Ministry
does not mean to bring any other before us. Sir
George Colebrooke has at last lent me, for a day or
two, copies of the papers which have been demanded
by the Treasury. I have looked them over as carefully
as the time would admit. I am more convinced than
ever of the very flourishing state of their affairs, and
that their present embarrassment is not from a defect
of substance, but merely from a difficulty with regard
to cash. Into this difficulty they never could have
fallen by the mismanagements of their servants abroad ;
though these have been, I make no doubt, very con-
siderable and very culpable. It is the rapine of Parlia-
ment, covered under the name of two agreements ; one
for revenues in India, wliich never have existed, as
a matter of profit, to either of the claimants ; another
for a speculation upon teas, which had no foundation,
and which it is downright extortion in the Government
to exact, that has given theirs and public credit such
a shock. In all the conversations I have had both
with Colebrooke and with a person of very opposite
character and designs (Mr. Gregory), I have no kind
of doubt with myself that a million might and ought to
be borrowed, and that there will then be sufficient fund
for payment of interest at five per cent., leaving also
an ample provision for sinking the principal, provided
Parliament can prevail upon itself to give up a claim,
which, while it has an existence, will never suffer the
company or the nation to enjoy a moment's quiet or
security. If this loan were authorized by Parliament,
and the senseless claims abandoned, the proprietors
could, with great safety to their capital, divide twelve
and a half per cent., and continue to do so, while events
suffer their trade to continue in its present situation.
It is true, I was originally of another opinion ; but
a view of the papers, which have been demanded for
purposes wholly adverse to the company, and the
most serious consideration of the affair, have made
me alter my sentiments. If I do not misapprehend

160 EDMUND BURKE [1772

Mr. DowdeswelL, who first gave my mind this turn, he
does not object to the reduction of dividend, as suppos-
ing it a coercive measure of Government, but as a step
dangerous to the rights of the company, though taken
by themselves ; for by this measure the stock, already
very low, will fall to the ground; and Government,
under pretence of a composition or purchase, may with
the greatest facility, and without any appearance of
arbitrary power, take into their own hands the charter,
and, with it, all the rights and possessions of the com-
pany. It was the high dividend and high price of stock
in 1767, that rescued the company out of their clutches.
I would not have your lordship mistake me so far,
as to think I would represent the keeping up the
dividend at twelve and a half per cent., as a measure
that, in the present disposition of Ministry, I conceive
to be at all practicable. I only speak of it as what
I seriously think appears, on the face of the papers,
to be the only means of supporting public credit on
a proper foundation; and of keeping the company
out of the hands of any court projector, who may think
of decorating the crown with the collected spoils of the
East. The proprietors, however, who see no other way
of getting rid of the encumbrance of the 400,000, are, I
think, in general prepared to acquiesce in the reduction
to six per cent. The court, I believe, have for the
present given up all sort of hope of receiving that sum ;
and, therefore, have rejected the first, and I really
think the only propositions, that can be made for the
relief of the company in the present exigency. They
are so far from meaning, therefore, to keep up a forced
dividend, either to themselves or to the proprietors, by
improper borrowing, that I am apprehensive they have
fallen into the very opposite extreme. They seem
resolved to admit of no dividend whatsoever. Lord
North sent a Treasury letter to the court of directors,
calling on them to lay before him their ideas of a method
of relief, and concluded with desiring to know * upon
what foundation they intended to declare any divi-
dend '. ^ This message came during some sales ; and the

1772] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 161

purport of it having been spread about, I hear caused
a fall of seven per cent, in the price of stock. If this
wicked project should be carried into execution, it is
easy to see that there is an end of the company ; and
a beginning of such a scene of frauds, impositions, and
treasury jobbing of all sorts, both here and in India,
as will soon destroy all the little honesty and public
spirit we have left.

I am not governed in my present opinions by any
idea of our being tied down to a servile adherence to
the maxims which we supported in 1767 ; since it is
obvious, that, when we have no interest one way or
other in the point, we might be allowed, without any
suspicion of deserting our principles, to alter an
opinion upon six years' experience, if six years' experi-
ence had given us reason to change it. But the fact is,
that we never denied, on the contrary, we always
urged it to be the province and duty of Parliament to
superintend the affairs of this company, as well as
every other matter of public concern ; but we con-
sidered it as a very different business to enter a house
in order to regulate it, from breaking in in order to
rob it. We considered it as the duty of Parliament to
see that the company did not abuse its charter privi-
leges, or misgovern its Asiatic possessions ; but we
thought it abominable to declare their dividends in the
House of Commons, and to seize their revenues into
the hands of the Crown. These, I am sure, were our
opinions then, and I see no sort of reason for altering
them since that time.

On foreign politics, I shall not trouble your lordship,
until I hear something more of facts. I do not hear
that they intend to engage us that way, at least not
directly, on the meeting. Nor does the reduction
of the seamen to 20,000, nor the ministerial attempts
on the company, look like an intention of making
war.

I am infinitely obliged to Lady Rockingham for her
ladyship's intention of honouring me with a letter.
Nobody can be more sensible of her ladyship's goodness

237 a

162 EDMUND BURKE [1772

and condescension, or more willing to obey her com-
mands.

I will detain your messenger no longer ; I have,
indeed, little to say, but what I never say but with the
greatest truth, that I am,

My dear lord,

Your affectionate and obliged humble servant,

EDM. BUBKE.

On casting my eye over what I have written, I find
I have expressed myself equivocally in one part. It
might seem as if Sir George Colebrooke and Mr.
Gregory had approved my ideas of borrowing, dividend,
&c. This I do not know. I only mean to say that after
conversing with them abundantly on the subject of
the papers, &c., I am exceedingly confirmed in my
opinion of what would be best to do, if I had in my
choice what ought to be done.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO A PRUSSIAN
GENTLEMAN

1772.
SIR,

Permit me to return you my most sincere thanks for
the honour of your very obliging letter. Nothing can
be more polite than the offer of your correspondence,
and nothing more acceptable than your specimen of it.

I hope you will not look on the long delay of my
acknowledgements, as a proof that I want the fullest
sense of the great favour I have received. I owed
you the best considered and the best informed judge-
ment I could make, on the question which you proposed.
The answer might affect your property, which you will
give me leave to regard as a matter far from indifferent
to me. After all, I am obliged to own to you, that the
more I have inquired, and the more I have reflected,
the less capable I find myself of giving you any advice
on which I can venture to confide. I have never had
any concern in the funds of the East India Company,
nor have taken any part whatsoever in its affairs,

1772] TO A PRUSSIAN GENTLEMAN 163

except when they came before me in the course of
parliamentary proceedings. Of late years, the inter-
vention of the claims and powers of Government, the
magnitude of the possessions in the East, which have
involved the concerns of the company with the con-
tentions of parties at home, and with the mass of the
politics of Asia and Europe, together with many other
particulars, have rendered all reasonings upon that
stock a matter of more intricacy and delicacy, than
whilst the company was restrained within the limits
of a moderate commerce. However, one advantage
has arisen from the magnitude of this object, and the
discussions which have grown from its importance,
that almost everything relative to it is become very
public. The proceedings in Parliament and in the
India House, have given as many lights to the foreign
stockholders as to the inhabitants of this kingdom.
Many persons on the Continent, as well as here, are
more capable of giving you good information than
I am ; I dare not risk an opinion. I am persuaded
you will have the goodness to excuse a caution, which
has its rise from my extreme tenderness towards your
interest.

With regard to general politics, you judge very
properly that we are more removed from them than
you are, who live in the centre of the political circle.
However, though situated in the circumference, we
have our share of concern and curiosity. I am happy
to receive that information which I have no right to
expect, and no ability to requite. My situation is very
obscure and private, and I have scarce anything to do,
but with the minute detail of our own internal economy.
To this I confine myself entirely. As to the grand
machine, I admire its effects, without being often able
to comprehend its operations, or to discover its springs.
I look on these events as historical. .The distance of
place, and absence from management, operate as
remoteness of time. I am obliged to you for your
account of his Prussian majesty's military arrange-
ments. I make no doubt that a prince so wise and

164 EDMUND BURKE [1772

politic will improve his new acquisitions (for I am
not to call them conquests) to the best advantage for
his power and greatness. I agree no less with your
observation, that it was extremely fortunate the three
great allied Powers were able to find a fourth whieh
was utterly unable to resist any one of them, and
much less all united. If this circumstance had not
concurred with their earnest inclinations to preserve
the public tranquillity, they might have been obliged
to find a discharge for the superfluous strength of
their plethoric habits in the destruction of the finest
countries in Europe.

One great branch of the alliance has not been quite
so fortunate. Russia seems to me still to retain,
though under European forms and names, too much
of the Asiatic spirit in its government and manners
to be long well poised and secure within itself ; and
without that advantage, nothing I apprehend can be
done in a long struggle. Turkey is not prey, at least,
for those whose motions are sometimes indeed preci-
pitate, but seldom alert. The nature of the Turkish
frontier provinces, an immense foss-ditch (if I may so
call it) of desert, is a defence made indeed, in a great
measure, at the expense of mankind, but still, it is
a great defence ; and the applicability, if not the
extent, of the Turkish resources are much greater
than those of the northern enemy. It is not now likely
that my paradoxical wish should be answered, or that
I should live to see the Turkish barbarism civilized
by the Russian. I don't wish well to the former
Power. Any people but the Turks, so seated as they
are, would have been cultivated in three hundred
years ; but they grow more gross in the very native
soil of civility and refinement. I was sorry for the
late misfortunes of the Russians ; but I did not so
well know how much of it they owed to their own
obstinacy. Misfortunes are natural and inevitable to
those who refuse to take advantage of the King of
Prussia's lights and talents. You say that he was
their Cassandra : if so, these people are inexcusable

1772] TO A PRUSSIAN GENTLEMAN 165

indeed ; surely nothing could be less remote than his
predictions from the ravings of virgin simplicity. They
were oracles directly from the very tripod of Apollo.
The rest of mankind do more justice to the heroic
intellect, as well as to the other great qualities of the
king your master.

Pray, dear sir, what is next ? These Powers will
continue armed. Their arms must have employment.
Poland was but a breakfast, and there are not many
Polands to be found. Where will they dine ? After
all our love of tranquillity, and all expedients to
preserve it, alas, poor Peace !

EDMUND BUBBLE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
BOCKINGHAM

Broad Sanctuary, January 10, 1773.

MY DEAB LOUD,

My last was written a little before our concluding
debate in the House of Commons, upon the India
Supervision Bill. The smallness of our minority did
not alarm me, though it was in reality rather lower
than I imagined it would be. Other things happened
on that day which surprised me a good deal more,
and furnished occasion for much more unpleasant
reflections. The slender appearance of friends might
be well enough attributed to the season, and to the
want of discipline arising from the nature of a minority,
and the absence of our leader. The part which
Lord George Germain took on that occasion did us
great mischief at the time, and has been no small
matter of triumph to the enemy ever since. My
Lord Chancellor l thought proper to cast it in the
Duke of Richmond's teeth, in the House of Lords.
Indeed, the smallness of our division, and the impossi-
bility of bringing our best friends to the support of
our measures, were in a manner the sole arguments
used in the House of Lords in favour of the ministerial
bill.

1 Earl Bathurst.

166 EDMUND BURKE [1773

Your lordship will, I dare say, think we did right in
dividing, notwithstanding the probable smallness of
the numbers. It was right to put the gentlemen who
chose to think with ministry, into the division along
with them. It was necessary to show to them and
to others, that this kind of conduct in some friends,
cannot abate out confidence in the rectitude of our
principles. It is not right that reason should be
governed by whim or pique, let it be the pique or
the whim of whoever it may. To divide showed
a weakness in numbers ; to shrink from the division,
would have shown weakness of mind and indecision
of character, which is, or ought to be, of ten times
worse consequence to us. In truth the battle for
power is over ; nothing now remains but to preserve
consistency and dignity. Lord George Germain told
me he hoped we would not divide. ' I was very sorry
that we should ever differ in opinion from his lordship,
but we must look to ourselves in the first place. These
had ever been our sentiments, and no human con-
sideration should hinder me (for one) from dividing
the House.' I need not say that I had not taken
this resolution without concurring with Lord John
Cavendish and Dowdeswell, whose opinions were
sufficient for me.

I am apt to think that, notwithstanding the extra-
ordinary line which Lord George has taken, he has no
connexions with the Ministry, nor is any negotiation
likely to be opened between them. In talking over
this disagreeable circumstance, it has been attributed
to several causes. None of them are inconsistent with
the others, and all of them, I believe, are in some
degree real. Strange as it may appear, with regard
to a man of his time of life, and his habits of business,
he feels himself flattered by having been nominated
to the select committee. He is entertained beyond
measure with the anecdotes he learns there ; and this
amusement and importance give him a strong leaning
towards those who promote inquiries productive of
such agreeable effects. The Duke of Richmond thinks,

1773] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 167

and I believe his grace is in the right, that Lord George
is not quite satisfied m not having the lead of your
lordship's friends in the House of Commons, and is
therefore not displeased with any opportunity of
throwing difficulties in the way of those measures
which he does not direct. I am not sure that, along
with all these, a certain natural and a certain pro-
fessional leaning to strong acts of power, and to a high
authority in the Crown, have not their full operation
on his conduct, and give him a bias towards the court
in all that they attempt against the independence of
the company. Besides, I find that, whether from
some remains of old Grenvillian connexion, or from
whatever other cause, Lord Clive has obtained a con-
siderable ascendant over him, and Lord Clive has acted
such a part as might be expected from his character.

Much as I esteem Lord George Germain in some
things, and admire him in many things, I must say,
he has not taken the measure of all the party with
his usual ability, if it be any part of Ms plan to have
the lead of us in the House of Commons. The object
he looks for seems to me quite impracticable, even
though Mr. Dowdeswell did not exist. I am sure
while he does exist, we cannot find a leader whom
a man of honour and of judgement would so soon
choose to follow. In argument Lord George is apt
to take a sort of undecided, equivocal, narrow ground,
that evades the substantial merits of the question,
and puts the whole upon some temporary, local,
accidental, or personal consideration. I know that
this method is much admired by some people as very
parliamentary. Indeed, in some circumstances, it is
right. When the objects of opposition are frivolous,
it is advisable not to lay down principles which might
embarrass upon a future occasion. But perhaps, in
such cases, it were full as advisable not to oppose
at all. Where a variety of different sentiments are
to be reconciled in one vote, such a mode of proceeding
has, I also admit, its use. But then one ought to
know that those whom we wish to please do themselves

168 EDMUND BURKE [1773

wish to be pleased; or else we lose more by not
standing by our own principle, than we gam by our
partial and seeming conformity to theirs. I am clear
that my latter parliamentary experience has been all
upon that side. This oblique method, taken as a
general way of proceeding, is so alien to the senti-
ments of some, and so repugnant to the natural temper
and cast of their minds, that I suspect no authority of
a, leader could ever oblige them to take their fixed post
upon such ground. Whatever it may do within the
House, it makes no figure at all without doors, and
has no other effect than to persuade the people that
the opposition acts without any sort of principle.
The questions which have been agitated during this
reign, are almost all of them hading points, on which
it is very necessary that men should have a decided
opinion, and that their opinion should be known.
If I were to choose an example of the ill effects of
this method of stating the grounds of an opposition,
I would go no further than to the very last debate.
I speak upon a supposition that the intentions were
lair and simple. When the motion was made for
leave to bring in the bill, he spoke against it. But he
chose to make his opposition upon the supposed
resolution of the directors not to send out the com-
mission. He not only founded himself upon this
hollow and insufficient bottom (bad as principle, though
proper as subsidiary), but he did it to the entire
exclusion of any other ; for he declared, at the same
time, that if he were not persuaded such was the
intention of the company, nobody should be more
forward in restraining the commission than himself.
In this manner he chose to admit the principle of the
bill, and left it to accidents, or indeed rather to
the discretion of the Ministry, to guide his conduct
in the succeeding steps of its progress.

Accordingly, they got one of their instruments in
the India House, at the moment when the petition
against this very bill was in agitation, to move a sus-
pension of the commission, which motion, as most

1773] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 169

insidious and most unseasonable, was put by with
a previous question. It is true that Lord G. was
under no necessity of voting for the bill afterwards,
as their putting a previous question was no proof that
commission would be sent out, and as no man believed
that the commissioners would venture themselves from,
home, in the present disposition of Parliament, without
ministerial authority. However, the narrowness of
his ground did put him into difficulties. He supported
the bill on the third reading, which he had opposed
on the first suggestion. Now what sort of figure should
those of us, who thought this bill radically wrong,
make upon such ground chosen by our leader ? un-
pleasant to desert him, undoubtedly much worse to
desert our conscience and principles. These are
dilemmas to which this narrow politic ground will
always expose an opposition. One can scarcely put
one foot firm on it, and if you lose your balance never
so little, you tumble down a precipice on the one side
or the other.

I find I have got a great way on this subject. But
no persons except those who were present can rightly
conceive the mischief which has happened to us by
the kind of part Lord G. G. thought proper to take ;
not only on account of the methods, but on account
of the extraordinary degree of warmth and vehemence
with which he pursued them. I need not say with
what shouts of applause his speech was received by
the majority. Such success attending such conduct
cannot fail to encourage fom to a perseverance in it,
as well as others to an imitation of it. Besides, it does
so damp and dishearten all that act with us, that
though no man can be more sensible than I am of the
great advantage you derive from the wealthy con-
nexion, which, if he has not brought, he at least tends
to keep with your lordship, and of the weight you have
from his personal ability in Parliament, yet I do
venture to say, that three such days in the House of
Commons would more than overbalance all these
advantages, and even much greater ; and that if no
G3

170 EDMUND BURKE [1773

method can be found of convincing Ms lordship that
this mode of acting is infinitely prejudicial to the
interest which he honours with Ms apparent support,
it would be far better the world understood you had
no connexion, and that he went directly and avowedly
to the Ministry.

I saw no friend of ours in the majority but old
Tommy Townshend. 1 His son stayed away. These
are men of, I believe, the very nicest principles of
honour, and of very good understandings, I can readily
allow ; for the difficulties into which they have been
led in tMs business, wMle they thought they were
following Lord Chatham, under the direction of the
court guides, into whose management he had put
those friends of his and your lordsMp's, who suffered
their public principles to" be turned into a blind con-
fidence in Mm. It is better that they should leave us
now and then, than degrade themselves by anytMng
like inconsistency, even where they took up their
opinions on a very slight consideration, or rather
wholly on the authority of others. In that view
I look upon Tommy Townshend's staying away rather
in the light of a civility to Ms friends than otherwise.
But still, not being at all willing, nor indeed wholly
able to blame Mm, I cannot but lament that every
now and then he is disposed to a great deference to
the opinions of those who are at most but allies to
that body which I am sure he loves by far the best.
Latterly he became a great admirer of George Grenvijle.
Since then, Lord George Germain has more weight with
Mm than anybody else. It is somewhat singular and
a little vexatious, that when your lordsMp was so
strongly disposed to the idea of our absenting ourselves
from Parliament, those upon whose authority that
proposition was overruled (at least they had a very
considerable share in promoting the attendance), should
be the very persons who, when we are met in conformity
to their opinions, make no other use of that opportunity

1 The Hon. Thomas Townshend, father of Mr. Thomas
Townshend, who was created Lord Sydney in 1783.

1773] TO THE MARQUIS OP BOCKINGHAM 171

than to show the distractions that prevail among us,
and to give all possible support to those ministerial
measures which they must have foreseen would be
proposed, and which they knew, by our former conduct,
we were bound to oppose. It was a prospect of this
that made me give so heartily into the idea started
by the Duke of Richmond last summer, of our absenting
ourselves from the House. I am sure it were much
better keep away, than to come to the House with
no other purpose than to dispute among ourselves,
divert the Ministry, and divide twenty-eight. It is
certain that the East India affairs will be the perpetual
business of Parliament ; and unless we can be made
to form some sort of system upon that subject, and
come to see the necessity either of understanding
the matter, every man for himself, or of taking the
authority of some among ourselves whose understand-
ings and conduct make them deserving of trust, we are
strengthening the hands of our adversaries every day
we take our places in Parliament.

As to the people abroad, I told your lordship in
my last, that I found Ihem far better disposed than
I originally expected. I am sure they would in general
go with an opposition to the proceedings of the court.
They might be easily brought to perceive what is in
reality the fact, that they mean to screen and not to
punish offenders ; that they mean not to reform abuses,
but to take away franchises ; and that they only
attack the company, in order to transfer their wealth
and their influence to the court. I mentioned to your
lordship, that I had taken some pains upon this subject.
I saw and spoke to several ; possibly I might have
done service to the cause, but I did none to myself.
This method of going hither and thither, and agitating
things personally, when it is not done in chief, lowers
the estimation of whoever is engaged in such trans-
actions, especially as they judge in the House of
Commons, that a man's intentions are pure, in pro-
portion to his languor in endeavouring to carry them
into execution. However, thus much I have learned

172 EDMUND BURKE [1773

to a great certainty, that the people will not be more
wanting to us upon this, than upon any other business
if we are not wanting to ourselves.

Your lordship's presence, I trust, will bring things
again into order. Nobody but yourself can do it.
We fall into confusion the moment you turn your
back ; and though you have the happiness of many
friends of very great ability and industry, and of
unshakable fidelity to the cause, nobody but yourself
has the means of rightly managing the different
characters, and reconciling the difficult interests, that
make up the corps of opposition. God forbid that
even this should be compassed at the expense of your
health ; but that I hope is restored, and I flatter
myself we shall feel the good effects of it.

The Duke of Richmond did wonderfully well in the
House of Lords. Somebody observed that he was
a host of debaters in himself, I heard him on the
last day's debate, as strangers were admitted along
with the council. I was told that the Duke of Portland
spoke extremely well on presenting the petition. If
his grace gave his excellent understanding a direction
that way, I am sure he would make a public speaker
of very great weight and authority. I could wish
your lordship would converse a little with Sir G. Savile
on these subjects. We know his motives for staying
away. Those who heard his disclaimer of the select
committee, may also remember them. This is very
true, but still to the majority his absence will seem
a condemnation of our conduct ; and of what weight
that apparent tacit condemnation is, every one may
discern, who knows how much the strength of our
cause has arisen from its having his support, I have
said nothing to him on this subject ; I was not entitled
to that freedom, and it would indeed be giving him
uneasiness to no effect ; and that I would not willingly
do, even though some moderate good effect should
follow it.

If your lordship's friends are not pretty generally
got together early, and properly talked to, permit me,

1773] TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM 173

my lord, with the earnestness that our good cause
Infuses into me, to repeat again, that nothing but
disgrace can attend our half -digested and half -enforced
operations. When I receive your lordship's commands
I shall attend ; when I hear things are in a right train,
I shall attend with pleasure.

In the meantime I profit of this little cessation of
business, to apply to the education of my son, and
to the means of his doing something for himself in
the world. I shall have nothing else to leave Mm ;
and your lordship, and all those I wish to please,
would censure me, if I were wholly negligent in this
point. The boy deserves well of me, for he is not
idle, and he has a good disposition. He is lately
entered a student of Christ Church in Oxford ; and
answered, on the examination, to the satisfaction of
those who examined him. I think he is full young
for the University ; and the Bishop of Chester has
been so good as to indulge him with a year's leave of
absence. It is a good time to form his tongue to
foreign languages, I feel, almost every day of my
life, the inconvenience of wanting them. So I propose
to take him with me to Blois. Mr. Hampden speaks
well of that place for pleasantness, cheapness, and
total freedom from the resort of English. My friend
Mr. King l continuing his uncommon regards towards
us both, will be with him. I am advised to go by
Paris. Whenever I know your lordship's wishes,
I slhall be with you in a few days. I don't intend to
remain a week in Paris, as I go out. On my return
I shall stay there until your lordship informs me that
something is put into train at home.

This is Thursday ; I mean to set out on Sunday
morning. I came to town to-day, and called at
Dowdeswell's. He is out of town ; but I hear he
will return to-morrow, and then I shall have an
opportunity of talking with him. Your lordship "will

1 The Reverend Thomas Kong, brother of Dr. Walker
King, afterwards Bishop of Rochester.

174 EDMUND BURKE [1773

be so kind as to present my most dutiful compliments
to Lady Bockingham. I am ever, with the truest
affection and attachment,

My dear lord,

Ever your lordship's most obliged friend
and humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

Broad Sanctuary, January 10, 1773.

I THINK of writing a short note from Calais to
Mr. Bentinck. Since I finished the above I received
your lordship's most welcome letter, and am extremely
obliged to you for it. It is true that the line of defence
settled by the counsel was turned in the manner your
lordship has mentioned. If they had omitted it, they
would have suffered equally. No abuses stated. The
reason of expense assigned in the preamble would have
had great strength, for small abuses will not justify
expensive arrangements. If the abuses were proved
to be great, then they were above their measure. This
I say from a sense of the temper of the House ; for
I had no share in concerting their plan, further than
that on hearing they meant to examine evidence,
I was in hopes that they might embarrass the Ministry
in point of time. The line to which your lordship
thinks they ought to have stuck entirely was strongly
marked by them, but it received the same disadvan-
tageous turn. Several of the minority gave the
company's having contested the right and propriety
of parliamentary interference, as the reason for their
vote for the bill. When anybody is doomed to destruc-
tion, all the arguments he alleges for his safety become
new grounds for cutting him off. It was well observed
by the counsel, that in the year 1767, when the court,
by a law of its own, limited its dividend, and therefore
prayed that an Act of Parliament should not pass for
that purpose, it was retorted on them that the Act
did no more than confirm what they had done themselves.

1773] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 175

Now he found the chief reason urged for passing the
bill was, that they declined themselves to restrain their
supervision, so that whether they declined, or did not
decline the use of their franchises, the reason was
equally cogent for taking them away. Just in that
impertinent, sophistical manner did they argue then
and now ; everything is a reason to people for doing
what they choose to do. I think it not unlikely that
Mr. Dowdeswell will tell you of a visit he has had from
Cornewall, 1 after a long absence. The Shelburnes
seem to repent of having done nothing in this business,
and appear rather disposed to come round. My clear
opinion is, that however I may like, as I do, some
individuals in that body, the corps, as a corps, is
naught ; and that no time or occasion can probably
occur, in which, in the way of consultation or com-
munication, it would be right to have anything to do
with them. My great uneasiness is about our own
corps, which appears to me in great danger of dis-
solution. Nothing can prevent it in my opinion, but
the speedy and careful application of your lordship's
own peculiar, persuasive, and conciliatory manner, in
talking over public business, and leading them into
a proper line of conduct. I know they flatter them-
selves that it is on this only occasion that they shall
differ. But what occasion is there, that in its nature
can occur so often, continue so long, or lead into
consequences so completely ruinous to public interest
and public virtue ? Is not this the great object of
the court ? If they carry their point in this, of what
advantage is any future contest ? Besides, the very
habit of confiding in the plans of their old enemies,
is dangerous to the existence of a party in opposi-
tion. Never had people less reason for such confi-
dence, than we have in this Ministry, and in this very
business.

Our friends, too, think they do very handsomely,
when they say they will oppose the design of seizing

1 Charles Wolfran Comewall, a Lord of the Treasury
under Lord North from March 1774 to September 1780.

176 EDMUND BURKE [1773

on the company's patronage, when that design is
openly avowed by the court. It never will be avowed
in its extent, and the plan never will (for a plain reason,
that it never can,) be executed at one stroke. The
business will be done covertly and piecemeal, and our
friends will help it forward in the detail, and thus
completely finish it, in hopes of some time or other
opposing it in the gross.

I see I run over and over the same ideas. Your
lordship will be so good to excuse this extreme, and,
I rather hope, unusual prolixity. I think your presence
much wanted, and early, in order to take a review of
the troops before the opening of the next campaign,
that, if you should not find them in readiness for action,
you would persuade them to remain quietly in their
quarters.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO ME. RICHARD BURKE
AND MR. T. KING

Paris, February, 1773.
MY DEAR CHILDREN,

While I wait with some impatience to hear of your
health, and your satisfaction in your new settlement, 1
I just write to give you the pleasure of knowing that
we got to Paris late at night, Tuesday, but well as we
could wish, without any troublesome accident what-
soever. I can write but little now, but I make amends,
by sending you two letters from your mamma.
I received others from Mr. Burke and my brother,
but though they relate to you, and are full of such
expressions of kindness to you both as would be very
agreeable to you, yet as they contain some matters for
my direction, in some particulars here, I must keep
them. I write from Mr. Panchaud's, who will send
Mr. King a bill for twenty-five louis next Friday,
which is the soonest that it can be remitted to you ;
for the rest I shall settle in a few days : I may stay

1 They were then living in Auxerre.

1773] TO B. BURKE AND T. KING 177

at Paris ten days or a fortnight longer. So don't,
neglect, one or the other of you, to write to me con-
stantly. My good friends, while I do most earnestly
recommend you to take care of your health and safety.
as things most precious to us, I would not have that
care degenerate into an effeminate and over-curious
attention, which is always disgraceful to a man's self,
and often troublesome to others. So you know my
meaning, when I wish you again and again to take
care of yourselves for our sake. So, when I wish you
to avoid superfluous expenses, as giving the mind
loose and bad habits, be aware that I wish you to
avoid everything that is mean, sordid, illiberal, and
uncharitable, which is much the worst extreme. Do
not spare yourselves nor me in this point. As you
are now a little setting up for yourselves, suffer me
to give you a little direction about the article of giving.
When others of decent condition are giving along with
you, never give more than they do ; it is rather an
affront to them, than a service to those that desire
your little bounty. Whatever else you do, do it
separately. But always preserve a habit of giving
(but still with discretion), however little, as a habit
not to be lost. When I speak of this, the funds of
neither of you are large, and perhaps never may
become so. So that the first thing is justice. Whatever
one gives, ought to be from what one would otherwise
spend, not from what he would otherwise pay. To
spend little and give much, is the highest glory a man
can aspire to. As to studies, I do not wish you, til!
you have conquered a little the difficulties of the
French, to apply to anything else but that and Greek.
More would distract and hurt, so don't trouble your-
selves with geometry and logic, until you hear from
me on the subject. Beading, and much reading, is
good ; but the power of diversifying the matter
infinitely in your own mind, and of applying it to
every occasion that arises, is far better, &o don't
suppress the vivida vis. May God grant you -every
blessing. Bemember Him first, and last, and midst.

178 EDMUND BURKE [1773

Keep yourselves constantly in His presence. Again
and again, God bless you.

Your ever affectionate father,

EDM. BURKE.

My most hearty respects to the family you are with,
to Abbe Vaulker, and the very worthy and ingenious
gentlemen who are so worthy of his friendship, to the
Count D'Esper, and all friends. Adieu !

BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS or
ROCKINGHAM

Tuesday night, February 2, 1774.

MY DEAE LORD,

I have just received your lordship's letter. It is
half an hour after ten ; so that if I say much, I shall,
I fear, be too late for the fly. I rejoice most heartily
at your coming to town, and at Lady Rockingham's
happy recovery. I wish your lordship had brought
your share of health with you ; but I flatter myself
that the journey and the change will rather do you
service. I wish your lordship would not take things
too anxiously. If the Duke of Richmond were to
succeed in the India House, it would be a matter of
great triumph. But if he has failed, or even if he
should fail finally, we ought not to be surprised at it ;
as the whole power of Government has been employed
to gain that body, which the whole power of Parliament
has been employed to new-model for that purpose.
But I really do not think it absolutely impossible that
they may yet be able to save something from the talons
of despotism. Your lordship will find all your friends,
though not active, yet all at their posts ; in good
humour with one another ; in no bad spirits ; firmly
attached to their principles and to your lordship. As
to others, I hope they begin to know to whom it is they
owe their present situation. I mean all such (few
indeed) as choose not to play the same part of division
and subdivision themselves.

1774] TO THE MAfiQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM 179

As to Lord Buckinghamshire, 1 I always thought
America was his object, and that he would begin with
a motion for papers. Whether he got them, or what
was said on the part of administration, I know not.
It was the Duke of Richmond's, Mr. DowdeswelTs, and
Lord Fitzwilliam's, as well as Lord J. Cavendish's
sentiment, that your lordship's friends in the House of
Peers ought to absent themselves, and not to coun-
tenance the interested petulance of those paltry
discontented people, who, without embracing your
principles, or giving you any sort of support, think to
make use of your weight to give consequence to every
occasional spirit of opposition they think proper to
make, in order to put the Ministry in mind that they
are to be bought by private contract, as unconnected
individuals. When you mean opposition, you are able
to take it up on your own grounds, and at your own
time. I cannot think they can bring on any question
this week.

Your lordship remarks very rightly on the supineness
of the public. Any remarkable highway robbery at
Hounslow Heath would make more conversation than
all the disturbances of America.

There were five-and-thirty at council on the petition
to remove Governor Hutchinson. 2 Dunning, 3 counsel
for the province, denied that there was any cause
instituted. That the petition charged no crime, and
made no accusation. It applied to the wisdom of the
Crown, and did not make a demand for justice. It was
with the king to grant or to refuse. They had no
impeachment to make, and no evidence to produce.
It was well and ably put. Lee seconded ; Wedderburn
replied in a very well-performed invective against the
assembly, and all the town meetings of New England ;
justifying the governor, and laying on most heavily,

1 The Earl of Buckinghamshire was appointed Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland in November 1776.

2 Dr. Franklin presented a petition from Massachusetts
praying for the removal of the governor.

3 Afterwards Lord Ashburton.

180 EDMUND BURKE [1774

indeed beyond all bounds and measure, on Dr. Franklin.
I am told the Doctor is to be dismissed from whatever
employments he holds under the Crown. There is
nothing else stirring.
I am, with the utmost affection and attachment,

My dear lord,

Your lordship's most obedient and
humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE DUKE or RICHMOND

September, 1774.
MY DEAR LOUD,

I am this moment honoured with your grace's letter
of the 26th instant. With your usual indulgence and
condescension to my weakness, you are so good as not
to blame me for an application in favour of my friend.
I must confess that, where I have had such an object
in view, I have not usually made any scruple to violate,
in some degree, the strict letter and summum jus of
decorum and propriety. By this conduct I am con-
scious that I have made some enemies ; but I have
the satisfaction of feeling, at the same time, that
enemies so made are almost the only ones I have in
the world. It would undoubtedly be great folly to
expect, and great presumption to recommend to others,
a conduct which is not, perhaps, exactly justifiable to
prudence in myself. But in the present case, I really
think, on all accounts, my enemies may be excused
Indeed, I am so anxious to stand well with your grace,
that you will permit me, though you do not require it,
to lay before you the reasons why I did not at first
perceive the impropriety of my application to your
grace upon this occasion. I was utterly ignorant,
I assure you, that your grace had lived in any habits
of intimacy with Lord Temple, or that you were related
to him in any near degree of consanguinity. With
regard to affecting his family interest, I was equally
ignorant that he had a family interest in the county of

1774] TO THE DUKE OF RICHMOND 181

Buckingham, which none of his name has ever yet
represented, and where, indeed, the Grenvilles are
comparatively strangers. 1 Lord Verney is now member
for the county, and so far in possession. His family
have, for many centuries, had an ample property, and
no small consideration in it ; and this consideration
has, on Lord Verney's part, been very well merited, as
I believe no man in England, without the exception of
another, has been so indulgent, humane, and moderate
a landlord, on an estate of considerable extent, or a
greater protector to all the poor within his reach. So
that, I apprehend, it is Lord Verney's personal and
family interest which are attacked by Lord Temple,
and not Lord Temple's that is attacked by Lord Verney.
As they are near neighbours, hitherto they have lived
in great appearance of mutual friendship ; and I am
persuaded that if Lord Verney had attached himself to
the same party with Lord Temple, to which he did not
" altogether want invitation, he would now have neither
the least uncertainty, nor a shilling expense, in his
election.

With regard to the other impropriety of the applica-
tion, that Lord Verney is not known to your grace, it is
undoubtedly a great misfortune to him, as well as to
all others in the same circumstances, that he is not
honoured with your acquaintance. But, as by this
means your grace is a stranger to him, I take the liberty
to state to you what he had done to entitle him to some
sort of slight countenance in his election (for I did not
presume to ask for more), from that party of which
your grace is a capital ornament and principal support.
He has told in Parliament, including himself, for four
members ; Mr. W. Burke, Mr. Bullock, and myself, are
three of them, who, as well as Lord V., for the last nine
years, have been diligent attenders, and have never
given a vote against your interest. All these elections
were carried off without any sort of trouble to the

1 This is a mistake, as the antiquity of the GrenvUles in
Buckinghamshire is very great indeed.

82 EDMUND BURKE [1774

party. He was likewise at an enormous expense to get
a fifth member, and would have got him too, if justice
had been done at the trial in the House of Commons ;
so that it is not through his want of exertion that you
had not five. If his modesty has been such, that with
his zealous attempts to do service he is not so much as
known in the party, it is one of the natural effects of
that unhappy virtue. With regard to my having taken
upon me to do what Lord Verney did not risk himself,
your grace will attribute my presumption to a cause as
natural as the former, your extraordinary and un-
merited indulgence, a thing which makes us some-
times forget ourselves ; and, perhaps in some degree,
to a thorough consciousness that, on my part, I have
been at all hours, and without any sort of reserve, at
your grace's devotion ; but this last is such a very
trifle, and has been so much overpaid in acceptance,
that it can hardly be reckoned among my excuses for
the attempt.

I wish you may not be tired with the length of my
apology, I am beyond measure fearful of offending
your grace, and I had rather, in these cases, be acquitted
than pardoned.

It would give me very unfeigned concern, for the
sake of the public, that your grace could seriously think
or talk of being sick of politics. Let me say that you
have tolerable corroborants for the stomach. It is not
for want of bitters that it is so weak. But in serious
earnest you have less reason for this despondency than
most men. Your constitution of mind is such that you
must have a pursuit ; and in that which you have
chosen, you have obtained a very splendid reputation,
which is no slight object to every generous spirit. You
have exerted very great abilities in a very excellent
cause, and with very noble associates. You have not
disappointed your friends, nor have they disappointed
you ; and if, on casting up the account, you find your
power in the state not equal to your services to the
public, you have, notwithstanding, a high rank in your
country, which kings cannot take from vou, and a

1774] TO THE DUKE OP RICHMOND 183

fortune fully equal to your station, though not (it
would be hard to find one) to the personal dignity of
your mind. My (Tear lord, the whole mass of this taken
together, is not to be called unhappiness, nor ought it
to drive you from the public service. Private life has
sorrows of its own, for which public employment is not
the worst of medicines, and you may have in other
things as much vexation without the same splendour.
Your birth will not suffer you to be private. It
requires as much struggle and violence to put yourself
into private life, as to put me into public. Pardon
a slight comparison, but it is as hard to sink a cork, as
to buoy up a lump of lead.

I heard a few days ago from poor Dowdeswell ; he
is going abroad for his health. I heartily pray that he
may find it. He is a man invaluable.

The paragraph with which you conclude your letter
gives me great comfort, that I have not forfeited your
favour and kindness. They have been hitherto no
small part of my honour and satisfaction, and will
always be so, while your grace takes me for what, with
all my failings, I very truly am,

Your grace's most faithful and
obedient servant,

EDM. BTOKB.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF

BOCKTNGHAM

Beaconsfield, September 16, 1774.
MY DEAR LORD,

I received this morning your lordship's very Mad
letter of the 13th. I should certainly have prevented
you by one of mine, if anything pleasant, interesting,
or curious, had justified me in giving you that trouble,
among so many occupations in which I could not assist,
and so many anxieties which I could not relieve. I felt
for your lordship's situation whilst Sir G. Savile's idea
of retirement continued. I was aware of his intention
before he left home. Undoubtedly his putting it in

184 EDMUND BURKE [1774

execution would have broken up everything; and
coming along with DowdeswelFs unfortunate illness,
would have left no hope of re-establishing your lord-
ship's political affairs, or those of the public, which are
so intimately connected with them. As to Mr. Dowdes-
well, I am really not very sanguine in my expectation
of his recovery. It seems that a change of climate is
his only chance. When that is the case, and the
disorder an obstinate cough, I think the chance a very
poor one. He has broken a blood-vessel already ; and
the sea, which he must cross of necessity, endangers
a repetition of the same misfortune, in case he should
be ill in his stomach, and obliged to strain the organs
of his throat and palate. It seems it was with great
reluctance that he submitted to the thoughts of this
voyage. However, I understand from a letter which
I had from Sir William Codrington yesterday, that he
has at length agreed to it. Possibly, if the cough be
only symptomatic, and the effect of a latent distemper
of another kind, the great change made by the sea air,
motion, and way of life, may work a cure, especially
upon him, who never yet has been on that element.
I most ardently wish it may. His loss would be irre-
parable, not only in business, of which he was the life
and soul, but in society, as one of the worthiest,
steadiest, and best-tempered men that ever lived.

You see by the papers that the Duke of Northumber-
land is likely to have some trouble in Westminster, if
he puts up Lord Thomas Clinton ; whether the popular
party propose me or not. 1 Lord Mahon has entered the
lists. By the illiberal tone of his advertisement, it is
easy to perceive from what school he issues. It is
surprising how little that set of people manage the
personal honour and credit of their connexions. I do
not find that he has the least encouragement from the

1 It seems that Mr. Churchill, and other friends of
Mr. Burke, had suggested to him the probability of his
being returned for Westminster, and that Wilkes, who
was then, at the height- of his popularity, had promised
him the popular support.

1774] TO THE MARQUIS OE BOCKINGHAM 185

leaders of the independent interest in Westminster.
On my part, I am not excessively sanguine about that
election ; but it would not be right to lose any matter
that may be in it, by any neglects of my own. I propose,
therefore, to be in town on Tuesday, and to talk over
the business with those who are active in. it, and first
suggested it to me. I am fortunate in one respect, that
the Duke of Portland is in town. I shall communicate
with him as I go on. I have scarcely been from, home
an hour since I saw your lordship; except at the
assizes of Buckingham, where I was obliged to go on
a troublesome matter of litigation, which is now over ;
and at the races of Aylesbury, where I did not go, you
may be assured, for the sport. It was thought that
the pulse of the county would be felt there. There
certainly Lord Temple was ; but I do not think he
found the appearance of things very encouraging. It
was thought singular, that if he was resolved Ms
nephew should stand, he took no care to exhibit him to
the county, either at the assizes or at the races. He
was, however, carrying on in every quarter a private
canvass for him ; and he still talks of starting him,
but has taken no steps, that I can learn, to call any
meeting. I thought at the races that he would have
dropped it, Aubrey has abandoned his scheme. His
inconsiderate attempt, without doing the least good to
himself, has done Lord Verney this mischief, that it
seemed to open the ground and to habituate the county
to the idea of a contest. I thought the Lowndes and
the Tories seemed to give Lord Temple no sort of
encouragement. What may come of it, I know not.
I am convinced that Lord Temple's chief hope and
principal encouragement is from the Duke of Grafton
and the Government interest.

I agree with your lordship entirely ; the American
and foreign affairs will not come to any crisis, sufficient
to rouse the public from its present stupefaction, during
the course of the next session. I have my doubts
whether those at least of America, will do it for some
years to come. I don't know whether the London

186 EDMUND BURKE [1774

papers have taken in the Pennsylvania instructions to
their representatives. Lest they should not, I send
your lordship the Philadelphia paper which contains
them. It is evident from the spirit of these instructions,
as well as by the measure of a congress, and consequent
embassy, that the affair will draw out into great length.
If it does, I look upon it as next to impossible, that the
present temper and unanimity of America can be kept
up ; popular remedies must be quick and sharp, or
they are very ineffectual. The people there can only
work on ministry through the people here, and the
people here will be little affected by the sight of
half a dozen gentlemen from America, dangling at the
levees of Lord Dartmouth and Lord North, or nego-
tiating with Mr. Pownall. If they had chosen the
non-importation measure as the leading card, they
would have put themselves on a par with us ; and we
should be in as much haste to negotiate ourselves out
of our commercial, as they out of their constitutional
difficulties. But in the present temper of the nation,
and with the character of the present administration,
the disorder and discontent of all America, and the
more remote future mischiefs which may arise from
those causes, operate as little as the division of Poland.
The insensibility of the merchants of London is of a
degree and kind scarcely to be conceived. Even those
who are most likely to be overwhelmed by any real
American confusion are amongst the most supine. The
character of the Ministry either produces, or perfectly
coincides with the disposition of the public. The
security of the latter 1 does, I know, arise from an
opinion of the volatile and transient nature of popular
discontents ; and they have the recent and comfortable
experience, that those discontents which prevailed at
home, and prevailed with no small violence, had
evaporated of themselves without any exertion whatso-
ever on the part of Government. I confess I should
not, in their situation, and with such great national
objects at stake, repose myself with great tranquillity

1 That is. theMinistrv.

1774] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 187

either on this speculation or this experience. But they
have no opinion of the vindictive justice of the nation.
The worst that can happen is the loss of employment.,
and that evil is to be postponed to the last hour. In
the meantime they have three great securities : the
actual possession of power, chapter of accidents, and
the Earl of Chatham. This last is the sacra an$iora,
Foreign politics do not embarrass them. The northern
Powers are too remote, and France is certainly disposed
to be pacific. Choiseul is not yet, ostensibly at least,
in power, and some doubt whether he ever will. Things
there are in the utmost confusion.

I did not stop in the above, although I am come to
town in the middle of a sentence. On my arrival I found
that Lord Mahon valued himself much on the support
of Wilkes. The Duke of Newcastle, too, paid a visit
to the Duke of Portland, and told his grace that he
had refused the Duke of Northumberland's solicitation
to put up Lord Thomas Clinton, and that he looked
on my Lord Mahon a very proper person to be sup-
ported. Lord Mahon is to be married to Lord Chat-
ham's daughter ; and the Duke of Portland thought
he could plainly perceive, by the style of the conversa-
tion, that this worthy friend of Lord Chatham thinks
the ministerial tenement rather tottering, and that he
wishes to house again under his old roof. On this
information, I thought it right to send Dr. Morris to
discover how far Mr. Wilkes continued firm to his en-

fagements. It was not prudent to see him myself, until
should be previously apprised of his sentiments and
dispositions. But my friend found the great patriot's
memory as treacherous as everything else about him.
For a long time he seemed totally to forget all that
had passed. When he did recollect the transaction,
the first idea of which had originated from himself, he
then said he had heard that Mr. Burke had given it up,
and that he would not be supported by his friends if he
persevered ; for that Lord Mountmorris had told him
that he (Lord M.) was to have the Portland and
Devonshire interest. He observed that Lord Mahon

188 EDMUND BURKE [1774

was a very proper candidate ; he had promised just
what they required of their candidates ; that he was
to be married to Lord Chatham's daughter, and a
Spanish nobleman had left him fifty thousand pounds.
This last circumstance seemed to have much weight
with him. He confessed that Lord Mahon had been
with Jjtim seven or eight times. In short, it appeared
to my friend as clearly almost as if he had been eye-
witness of the whole transaction that he had touched
Lord Mahon's money, and that he is desirous of ex-
torting more, by stirring up a multitude of candidates.
Although he said in my presence, that it would be an
act of insanity to attempt shaking Lord Percy, his note
was quite changed ; he did not know why they should
not try for both members. Let Mr. Burke advertise ;
though after the excellent advertisement of Lord
Mahon's any other must appear meagre. This was his
expression. In short, that affair is over. I don't know
why I trouble your lordship with so many particulars
of so paltry a business. I should have troubled myself
very little with it, if it had not appeared to me a sort
of act of duty, to endeavour all I could to settle my
own parliamentary arrangements, if possible, without
burthen to any friend.

The state of Lord Verney's affairs, both parlia-
mentary and private, make it necessary for me either
to quit public life, or find some other avenue to Parlia-
ment than his interest. His private circumstances are
very indifferent. He has been disappointed in one or
two expectations of considerable relief, which he has
lately had reason to entertain ; and I am far from the
least disposition, indeed, I am infinitely far from having
any sort of reason, to complain of the step which he is
going to take. He will, indeed he must, have those to
stand for Wendover (now his only borough of three in
which he had formerly an interest) who can bear the
charge which that borough is to him. The first people
in character in this kingdom, unpressed in their affairs,
do it ; and even expect some acknowledgement of
obligation for the preference. We have reason to

1774] TO THE MARQUIS OF KOCKINGHAM 189

lament the necessity which drives him to abandon the
distinguished course of disinterestedness and friendship
that has hitherto actuated him, and to take the common
road. There are very few who have brought men into
Parliament without expense, and that too repeatedly.,
who were not any way of their kindred, or capable of
serving their interest in their counties. Lord Verney
has brought three private friends into his borough, for
two Parliaments, without a shilling of advantage to
himself, or the least hope of any aid from them in the
support of his county election, Mr. Bullock * is indeed
accidentally of some use ; we are of none at all. So
that we have infinite reason to be grateful for the
voluntary acts of friendship which are passed ; none
at all to murmur at the effects of the present urgent
necessity. I hope we shall be thus grateful for the
little time we have to live, and the little means we
shall probably ever have of showing our feeling of the
friendship we have experienced.

EBMTJND BTJBKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OP
ROOKINGHAM

Beaconsfield, December 5, 1774,
MY DEAR LORD,

I think you will have the goodness to excuse this
intrusion into the leisure of your recess. The season
for action is drawing pretty near ; if action should be
the idea entertained, upon consultation among your
lordship's friends. If it be not thought proper at this
time, I confess I cannot foresee a time that will be proper
for it. For these two last sessions, indeed for the three
last, the public seemed to be so perfectly careless and
supine, with regard to its most essential interests, that
much exertion on our part, would rather have indicated
a restlessness of spirit than a manly zeal. I concurred
entirely in the reasonableness of our remaining quiet,
and taking no further part in business, than what

1 Joseph Bullock, Esq., Mr. Burke's colleague in the
representation of Wendover.

190 EDMUND BURKE [1774

served to mark our dissent from the measures which
have been unfortunately in fashion. It was all that
we could then do. Even at this time, I do not see all
that spirit against Ministry, which I should have
expected to rise among the people on the disappoint-
ment of every hope that had been held out to them.
However, it seems to be rising, and perhaps nearly as
much and as fast, as a spirit wholly unmanaged can
rise. Whatever progress it may make by its own nature,
we know, by abundant experience, that unless it is
tempered, directed, and kept up, it never can operate
to any purpose. If care be not taken of this, the
present set may make an advantage, even of the
mischiefs and confusion they have caused by their
own blundering conduct. For, if no other persons,
and no other regular system, are held out to the
people at large, as objects of their confidence in time
of distress, they must of necessity resort to the Ministry.
By neglecting to show ourselves at this crisis, we may
play into the adversary's hand the advantageous game
which we have obtained, by the uniformity of our con-
duct, and the superiority of our general plan of politics.
If your lordship should see things in this light, you
will of course perceive, too, the necessity of proceeding
regularly, and with your whole force ; and that this
great affair of America is to be taken up as a business.
I remember that when your lordship collected your
strength upon some capital objects, such as the nuttum
tempus bill, and that for elections, your way was to
choose out six or seven friends, and to get each of
them to secure the attendance of those whom they
touched the most nearly. Perhaps you will think
that something of this kind ought to be done, in the
present instance. To act with any sort of effect, the
principal of your friends ought to be called to town
a full week before the meeting. Lord John 1 ought
not to be suffered to plead any sort of excuse. He
ought to be allowed a certain decent and reasonable
portion of fox-hunting to put him into wind for the
1 Lord John Cavendish.

1774] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 191

parliamentary race lie is to run ; but anything more
is intolerable. I really do not wish that his place of
locum tenens may be long ; but whilst our affairs con-
tinue as they do, from poor Dowdeswell's unhappy
state of health, he must show a degree of regular
attendance on business, without which nothing that
we can do will be either effectual or reputable ; and it
is not only Ministry that will prevail over us, but we
shall be a prey to the detached bodies, and even
detached individuals that compose our most hetero-
geneous, unsystematic, and self-destructive opposition.
His grace of Richmond ought surely to be as early in
town as any ; but he will not, if your lordship does
not press it strongly. Other lords attending early, will
have a good effect. A great deal of the temper of the
people without doors, will depend upon the figure you
make in the two Houses.

One^ cannot help feeling for the unhappy situation
in which we stand from our own divisions. Lord
Chatham shows a disposition to come near you, but
with those reserves which he never fails to have as
long as he thinks that the closet door stands ajar to
receive him. The least peep into that closet intoxicates
him, and will to the end of his life. However, as he is,
and must be, looked to, by those that are within a,nd
those that are without, it would not be amiss to find
out how he proposes to act, and if possible to fall in
with him ; and to take the same line in Parliament,
though you may never conie to an understanding with
him in other politics. This I am sure of, that as long
as you make no approaches to him, but show yourself
always approachable % him, you stand in the fairest
way to gain his esteem, and to secure yourself against
his manoeuvres.

With regard to the Ministry, it would be of the
greatest service if we could have some timely know-
ledge of the proposition, or at least of the spirit of the
proposition, which they intend to make at the meeting.
It would conduce greatly to our acting with some
regularity, if we knew who the Ministry were. It is

192 EDMUND BURKE [1774

always of use to know the ground one acts upon.
I have great reason to suspect that Jenkinson 1 governs
everything ; but it would be right to know this a
little more clearly. All this your lordship sees is
on a supposition of an active campaign. If otherwise,
the thing is not worth the trouble. I see I have been
long, and, I begin to fear, tedious and troublesome.
I will not add to the impropriety by long apologies.
Your lordship will be so good to present the best
compliments of myself and all here to my Lady Rock-
ingham, and to believe me ever,

My dear lord,

Your lordship's most faithful and affectionate

humble servant,
EDM. BURKE.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO JAMES BARRY, ESQ.
Broad Sanctuary, Sunday, January 15, 1775.

MB. BURKE presents his compliments to Mr. Barry,
and is extremely obliged to him for the honour he has
done him, in his early communication of his most
ingenious performance on painting ; from several parts
of which he has received no small pleasure and instruc-
tion. There are, throughout the whole, many fine
thoughts and observations, very well conceived, and
very powerfully and elegantly expressed. They would,
however, have appeared with still greater advantage,
if Mr, Barry had attended to the methodical distribution
of his subject, and to the rules of composition, with
the same care with which he has studied and finished
several of the particular members of his work.

According to the natural order, it is evident, that
what is now the 13th chapter, ought to follow imme-
diately after the 8th, and the 9th to succeed to what
is now the 18th. The subject of religion, which is
resumed in the 19th chapter, ought more naturally to

1 Charles Jenkinson, afterwards created Earl of Liver-
pool.

1775] TO JAMES BARRY 193

follow, or to make a part of the 9th, where indeed it is
far better (indeed perfectly well) handled ; and where,
in Mr. Burke' s poor opinion, as much is said upon
the subject as it could reasonably bear. The matter
in that last chapter is not quite so well digested, nor
quite so temperately handled, as in the former ; and,
Mr. Burke fears, will not give satisfaction which the
public will receive from the rest.

There are a few parts which Mr. Burke could not
have understood, if he had not been previously ac-
quainted, by some gentlemen to whom Mr. Barry had
explained them, that they are allusions to certain
matters agitated among artists, and satires upon some
of them. With regard to the justice or injustice of
these strictures, (of which there are several,) Mr. Burke
can form no opinion ; as he has little or no knowledge
of the art, he can be no judge of the emulations and
disputes of its professors. These parts may therefore,
for aught he knows, be very grateful, and possibly
useful, to the several parties which subsist (if any do
subsist) among themselves ; but he apprehends they
will not be equally pleasing to the world at large, which
desires to be rather entertained by their works, than
troubled with their contentions. Whatever merit there
may be in these reflections, the style of that part
which most abounds with them, is by no means so lively,
elegant, clear, or liberal, as the rest.

Mr. Burke hopes for Mr. Barry's obliging and friendly
indulgence, for his apology for the liberty he has
taken, in laying before him what seemed to him less
perfect in a work which in general he admires, and is
persuaded the world will admire very highly. Mr. Barry
knows that objections, even from the meanest judges,
may sometimes be of use to the best writers ; and
certainly, such little criticisms may be of service on
future occasions, if Mr. Barry should continue to oblige
the public with further publications on this or any other
subject, (as there are few to which he is not very equal,)
and should turn his talents from the practice, to the
theory and controverted questions of this pleasing art.

237

194 EDMUND BURKE [1775

BUBKB, ESQ., TO WILLIAM BUBOS, Esq. 1

Westminster, February 9, 1775.
DEAR Sra,

I beg you will not think that my delay in returning
you the proof sheet of your most ingenious and most
obliging (dedication, could proceed from a want of the
liveliest sensibility to the great honour you have done
me. I now return the proof with my sineerest and most
grateful acknowledgements.

Some topics are touched in that dedication, on
which I could wish to explain myself to you. I should
have been glad to do it through Mr. Mason ; but to
my great loss, on this and many other accounts, he
left town suddenly. Indeed, at that time and ever
since, the pressure of American business on one hand,
and a petition against my election on the other, left
me not a single minute at my disposal, and I have now
little leisure enough to explain myself clearly on some
points in that dedication, which I either misunderstand,
or they go upon a misapprehension of some part of
my public conduct ; for which reason, I wish, if I
might presume to interfere, that they may be a little
altered.

It is certain that I have, to the best of my power,
supported the establishment of the Church, upon
grounds and principles which I am happy to find
countenanced by your approbation. This you have
been told ; but you have not heard that I supported
also the petition of the Dissenters, for a larger toleration
than they enjoy at present under the letter of the Act
of King William. In fact, my opinion in favour of
toleration goes far beyond the limits of that Act, which
was no more than a provision for certain sets of men,
under certain circumstances, and by no means what
is commonly called 'an Act of Toleration 5 . I am
greatly deceived, if my opinions on this subject are not

1 William Burgh, of York, author of A Scriptural
Confutation (1775) of Theophilus Lindsey's Apology (1754).

1775] TO WILLIAM BURGH 195

consistent with the strictest and the best supported
Church establishment. I cannot consider our Dis-
senters, of almost any kind, as schismatics ; whatever
some of their leaders might originally have been in the
eye of Him, who alone knows whether they acted
under the direction of such a conscience as they had,
or at the instigation of pride and passion. There are
many things amongst most of them, which I rather
dislike than dare to condemn. My ideas of toleration
go far beyond even theirs. I would give a full civil
protection, in which I include an immunity from all
disturbance of their public religious worship, and a
power of teaching in schools as well as temples, to Jews,
Mohammedans, and even Pagans ; especially if they
are already possessed of those advantages by long and
prescriptive usage, which is as sacred in this exercise
of rights, as in any other. Much more am I inclined
to tolerate those whom I look upon as our brethren.
I mean all those who profess our common hope, extend-
ing to all the reformed and unreformed Churches, both
at home and abroad ; in none of whom. I find anything
capitally amiss, but their mutual hatred of each other.
I can never think any man a heretic, or schismatic, by
education. It must be, as I conceive, by an act, in
which his own choice (influenced by blameable passions)
is more concerned than it can be by his early prejudices,
and his being aggregated to bodies, for whom men
naturally form a great degree of reverence and affection.
This is my opinion, and my conduct has been conform-
able to it. Another age will see it more general ; and
I think that this general affection to religion will never
introduce indifference, but will rather increase real
zeal, Christian fervour, 'and pious emulation; that it
will make a common cause against Epicurism, and
everything that corrupts the mind and renders it un-
worthy of its family. But toleration does not exclude
national preference, either as to mode of opinions, and
all the lawful and honest means which may be used
for the support of that preference.
I should be happy to converse with you, and such, as

196 EDMUND BURKE [1775

you, on these subjects, and to unlearn my mistaken
opinions, if such they should be ; for, however erroneous,
I believe there is no evil ingredient in them. In looking
over that dedication, if you should agree with me, that
there are some expressions that carry with them an
idea of my pushing my ideas of church establishment
further than I do, you will naturally soften or change
them accordingly. I do not know very well how to
excuse the great liberty I take, in troubling you with
observations, where I ought to speak only my obliga-
tions, Be assured, that I feel myself extremely honoured
by your good opinion, and shall be made very happy
by your friendship.

I am, with the greatest esteem, &c.

EDMUND BUBKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQUIS OF

ROCKINGHAM

Broad Sanctuary, August 4, 1775.
MY DEAB LOBD,

Just as I am preparing to return into the country,
I find that Mr. Thesiger is setting out for Yorkshire.
I did not know, until this instant, that he had not
been gone long since. I have not time at present to
write to your lordship on the subject of your letter,
and the other most material occurrences which have
happened since I received it, so amply as I wish. I have
been very far from well for some weeks past ; but I am,
thank God, perfectly recovered. Indeed, my head and
heart are as full of all kinds of anxious thoughts as they
can possibly hold. For some time I had sunk into
a kind of calm and tranquil despair, that had a sort of
appearance of contentment. But, indeed, we are
called to rouse ourselves, each in his post, by a sound
of a trumpet almost as loud as that which must awaken
the dead. I find it very current that Parliament will
meet in October. I should not be at all surprised if it
were even sooner. If a proposition comes from the
Congress, and a proposition certainly will come, they
cannot avoid calling Parliament, whether they receive,

1775] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 197

reject, or hang it up by treaty. Admiral Shuldham
told me that he is not* to sail from Cork until the
end of September, or very little before it. I really
think they may want a sanction from Parliament
before they strip that kingdom of the troops, which an
express law has provided should be in it. From this
they cannot possibly replace them, and if they should
send Hanoverians to take their place, for this too they
must apply for our necessary, but sure approbation.
At any rate, I am convinced the meeting will be early,
and your lordship's arrangements 'will of necessity be
early also. I have spoken on this subject very largely
to Lord John, who will be so good as to communicate
my thoughts to your lordship. York races will be
a place and occasion very fit for the review of the
county, and for the trial, and, what is more important,
the direction of their dispositions. We have been
seduced, by various false representations and groundless
promises., into a war. There is no sort of prospect or
possibility of its coming to any good end, by the pursuit
of a continued train of hostility. The only deliberation
is, whether honest men will make one last effort to
give peace to their country. Something of this sort
ought to be infused into men's minds, as preparatory
to further measures. No time, in my humble opinion,
ought to be lost for putting them into this train. For
if Parliament meets early, it will commit itself instantly,
and then the disease is without remedy for ever.
Nothing can equal the ease, composure, and even

faiety of the great disposer 1 of all in this lower orb.
t is too much, if not real, for the most perfect king-
craft. I shall soon trouble your lordship more largely.
We beg our best compliments to Lady Rockingham.
I am, with the most affectionate attachment,

My dear lord,

Your lordship's ever faithful and obedient
humble servant,

EDM. BXJBKE.

1 The king.

198 EDMUND BURKE [1775

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO AETHUB LEE, ESQ.

Beaconsfield, August 22, 1775.
SIB,

I am honoured with your letter of the 21st, Informing
me of the time on which you propose to wait on Lord
Dartmouth, with the petition of the American Congress.

I should be very happy to attend you on that
occasion, if I were in the slightest degree authorized
to do so by the colony which I represent. I have been
chosen agent by the General Assembly of New York.
That Assembly has actually refused to send deputies
to the Congress ; so that, if I were to present a petition,
in the character of their agent, I should act, not only
without, but contrary to the authority of my con-
stituents ; and whilst I act for them, it is impossible
for me, in any transaction with the boards or ministers,
to divest myself occasionally of that character.

This, and this only, is my reason for not waiting
upon you. I do approve exceedingly of all dutiful
applications from the gentlemen of the Congress to His
Majesty. I am convinced that nothing is further from
their desires than to separate themselves from their
allegiance to him, or from their subordinate connexion
with their mother country. I believe that they wish
for an end to these unhappy troubles, in which, while
all are in confusion, they must be the first and greatest
sufferers. It were greatly to be desired that ministers
could meet their pacific dispositions with a correspon-
dent temper. I ardently wish you success in your
laudable undertaking for the restoration of peace, and
the reconciliation of our fellow subjects with their
sovereign.

I have the honour to be, sir,
Your most obedient and humble servant,
EDM. BUBKE.

1775] TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM 199

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE MARQUIS OF
ROCKHTGHAM

August 23, 1775.
MY DEAR LORD,

When I was last in town, I wrote a short letter by
Mr. Thesiger. But I opened all I had in my thoughts
so fully to Lord John Cavendish, who was then setting
out for the north, that I do not know whether it be
necessary to trouble your lordship any further upon
the unhappy subject of that letter and conversation.
However, if I did not write something on that subject,
I should be incapable of writing at all. It has, I confess,
taken entire possession of my mind.

We are, at length, actually involved in that war
which your lordship, to your infinite honour, has made
so many efforts to keep at a distance. It has come
upon us in a manner more disagreeable and unpromising
than the most gloomy prognostic had ever foretold it.
Your lordship's observation on the general temper of
the nation at this crisis, is certainly just. If any
indication is to be taken from external appearances,
the king is entirely satisfied with the present state of
his Government. His spirits at his levees, at the play,
everywhere, seem to be remarkably good. His minis-
ters, too, are perfectly at their ease. Most of them are
amusing themselves in the country, while England is
disfurnished of its forces in the face of armed Europe,
and Gibraltar and Minorca are delivered over to the
custody of foreigners. They are at their ease relative
to the only point which could give them anxiety, they
are assured of their places.

As to the good people of England, they seem to
partake every day, more and more, of the character
of that administration which they have been induced
to tolerate. I am satisfied, that within a few years,
there has been a great change in the national character.
We seem no longer that eager, inquisitive, jealous, fiery
people, which we have been formerly, and which we
have been a very short time ago. The people look

200 EDMUM) BURKE [1775

back, without pleasure or indignation ; and forward,
without hope or fear. No man commends the measures
which have been pursued, or expects any good from
those which are in preparation ; but it is a cold, languid
opinion, like what men discover in affairs that do not
concern them. It excites to no passion ; it prompts to
no action.

In all this state of things I find my observation and
intelligence perfectly agree with your lordship's. In
one point, indeed, I have the misfortune to differ.
I do not think that weeks, or even months, or years,
will bring the monarch, the ministers, or the people, to
feeling. To bring the people to a feeling, such a f eeling,
I mean, as tends to amendment, or alteration of system,
there must be plan and management. All direction of
public humour and opinion must originate in a few.
Perhaps a good deal of that humour and opinion must
be owing to such direction. Events supply materials ;
times furnish dispositions ; but conduct alone can
bring them to bear to any useful purpose. I never yet
knew an instance of any general temper in the nation,
that might not have been tolerably well traced to some
particular persons. If things are left to themselves, it
is my clear opinion that a nation may slide down fair
and softly from the highest point of grandeur and
prosperity to the lowest state of imbecility and mean-
ness, without any one's marking a particular period
in this declension, without asking a question about it,
or in the least speculating on any of the innumerable
acts which have stolen in this silent and insensible
revolution. Every event so prepares the subsequent,
that, when it arrives, it produces no surprise, nor any
extraordinary alarm. I am certain that if pains, great
and immediate pains, are not taken to prevent it, such
must be the fate of this country. We look to the
merchants in vain they are gone from us, and from
themselves. They consider America as lost, and they
look to Administration for an indemnity. Hopes are
accordingly held out to them that some equivalent for
their debts will be provided In the meantime, the

1775] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 201

leading men among them are kept full fed with con-
tracts, and remittances, and jobs of all descriptions ;
and they are indefatigable in their endeavours to keep
the others quiet, -with the prospect of their share in
those emoluments, of which they see their advisers
already so amply in possession. They all, or the
greatest number of them, begin to snuff the cadaverous
haut gout of lucrative war. War, indeed, is become
a sort of substitute for commerce. The freighting
business never was so lively, on account of the pro-
digious taking up for transport service. Great orders
for provisions and stores of all kinds, new clothing for
the troops, and the intended six thousand Canadians,
puts life into the woollen manufacture ; and a number
of men of war, ordered to be equipped, has given a
pretence for such a quantity of nails and other iron
work, as to keep the midland parts tolerably quiet.
All this, with the incredible* increase of the northern
market since the peace between Russia and the Porte,
keeps up the spirits of the mercantile world, and induces
them to consider the American War, not so much their
calamity, as their resource in an inevitable distress.
This is the state of most, not of all the merchants.

All this, however, would not be of so much conse-
quence. The great evil and danger will be the full and
decided engagement of Parliament in this war. Then
we shall be thoroughly dipped, and then there will be
no way of getting out, but by disgracing England, or
enslaving America. In that state, Ministry has a lease
of power, as long as the war continues. The hinge
between war and peace is, indeed, a dangerous juncture
to ministers ; but a determined state of the one or the
other, is a pretty safe position. When their cause,
however absurdly, is made the cause of the nation, the
popular cry will be with them. The style will be, that
their hands must be strengthened by an unreserved
confidence. When that cry is once raised, and raised
it infallibly will be, if not prevented, the puny voice of
reason wifl not be heard. As sure as we have now an
existence, if the meeting of Parliament should catch
H3

202 EDMUND BURKE [1775

your lordship and your friends in an unprepared state,
nothing but disgrace and ruin can attend the cause you
are at the head of. Parliament will plunge over head
and ears. They will vote the war with every supply of
domestic and foreign force. They will pass an Act of
Attainder ; they will lay their hands upon the press.
The ministers will even procure addresses from those
very merchants, who, last session, harassed them with
petitions ; and then, what is left for us, but to spin
out of our bowels, under the frowns of the court and the
hisses of the people, the little slender thread of a peevish
and captious opposition, unworthy of our cause and
ourselves, and without credit, concurrence, or popu-
larity in the nation 1

I hope I am as little awed out of my senses by the
fear of vulgar opinion, as most of my acquaintance.
I think, on a fair occasion, I could look it in the face ;
but speaking of the prudential consideration, we know
that all opposition is absolutely crippled, if it can
obtain no kind of support without doors. If this should
be found impracticable, I must revert to my old
opinion, that much the most effectual, and much the
most honourable course is, without the obligation of
a formal secession, to absent ourselves from Parliament.
My experience is worth nothing, if it has not made it
as clear to me as the sun, that, in affairs like these,
a feeble opposition is the greatest service which can be
done to Mnistry ; and surely, if there be a state of
decided disgrace, it is to add to the power of your
enemies by every step you take to distress them.

I am confident that your lordship considers my
importunity with your usual goodness. You will not
attribute my earnestness to any improper cause.
I shall, therefore, make no apology for urging, again
and again, how necessary it is for your lordship and
your great Mends, most seriously to take under
immediate deliberation, what you are to do in this
crisis. Nothing like it has happened in your political
life. I protest to God, I think that your reputation,
your duty, and the duty and honour of us all, who

1775] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKINGHAM 203

profess your sentiments, from the highest to the lowest
of us, demand at this time one honest, hearty effort, in
order to avert the heavy calamities that are impending;
to keep our hands from blood, and, if possible, to keep
the poor, giddy, thoughtless people of our country from
plunging headlong into this impious war. If the attempt
is necessary, it is honourable. You will, at least, have
the comfort that nothing has been left undone, on your
part, to prevent the worst mischief that can befall the
public. Then, and not before, you may shake the dust
from your feet, and leave the people and their leaders
to their own conduct and fortune.

I see, indeed, many, many difficulties in the way ;
but we have known as great, or greater, give way to
a regular series of judicious and active exertions. This
is no time for taking public business in their course and
order, and only as a part in the scheme of life, which
comes and goes at its proper periods and is mixed in
with occupations and amusements. It calls for the
whole of the best of us ; and everything else, however
just or even laudable at another time, ought to give
way to this great, urgent, instant concern. Indeed, my
dear lord, you are called upon in a very peculiar manner.
America is yours. You have saved it once, and you
may very possibly save it again. The people of that
country are worth preserving; and preserving, if
possible, to England. I believe your lordship remem-
bers that last year or the year before, I am not sure
which, you fixed your quarters for awhile in London,
and sent circular letters to your friends, who were
concerned in the business on which you came to town.
It was on occasion of the Irish absentee-tax. Your
friends met, and the attempt was defeated. It may be
worth your lordship's consideration, whether you ought
not, as soon as possible, to draw your principal friends
together. It may be then examined, whether a larger
meeting might not be expedient, to see whether some
plan could not be thought of for doing something in the
counties and towns. The October meeting at New-
market will be too late in the year, and then the

204 EDMUND BURKE [1775

business of the meeting would take up too much time
from the other.

It might be objected to doing anything in this
immature condition of the public temper, that the
interests of your lordship's friends might suffer in
making an attempt, which might be vigorously and
rather generally opposed and counterworked. On
ordinary occasions this might be a matter of very
serious consideration. The risk ought to be propor-
tioned to the object ; but this is no ordinary occasion.
In the first place. I lay it down that the present state
of opposition is so bad, that the worst judged and most
untimely exertions would only vary the mode of its
utter dissolution. Such a state of things justifies every
hazard. But, supposing our condition better, what is
an interest cultivated for, but its aptness for public
purposes ? And for what public purpose do gentlemen
wait, that will be more worthy of the use of all the
interests they have ? I should certainly consider the
affair as desperate, if your success in such an effort
depended on anything like a unanimous concurrence
in the nation. But in times of trouble this is impossible.
In such times it is not necessary. A minority cannot
make or carry on a war ; but a minority, well composed
and acting steadily, may clog a war in such a manner,
as to make it not very easy to proceed. When you once
begin to show yourselves, many will be animated to
join you, who are now faint and uncertain. Your
adversaries will raise the spirit of your friends ; and the
very contest will excite that concern and curiosity in
the nation, the want of which is now the worst part
of the public distemper*

Lord John has given your lordship an account of the
scheme we talked over, for reviving the importance of
the city of London, by separating the sound from the
rotten contract-hunting part of the mercantile interest,
uniting it with the corporation, and joining both to your
lordship. There are now some facilities attending such
a, design. Lord Chatham is, in a manner, out of the
question ; and the court have lost, in him, a sure

1775] TO THE MARQUIS OF ROCKIWHAM 205

instrument of division in every public contest. Baker
was chiefly relied on for our main part in this work.
He was walling to do his part ; but, lo 1 he is called
away to another part ; and if he is not yet married to
Miss Conyers, he will in a very few days. This puts us
back. Nothing I believe can be done in it, till the Duke
of Portland comes to town ; and then we shall have
a centre to turn upon. Hand, of Leeds, and some other
friends, might feel the pulse of the people of Leeds, and
the adjacent country. Jack Lee would not let his
assistance be wanting on such an occasion, and in such
a cause ; but if Sir George Savile could be persuaded
to come forward . . .

I must instantly set off for Bristol. ^ The enclosed
will let your lordship see the necessity of it. The horrid
expense of these expeditions would keep me at home ;
but that city is going headlong to the dust, through the
manoeuvres of the court., and of the Tory party ; but
principally through the absurd and paltry behaviour
of my foolish colleague. I shall be there on the 28th for
the assizes ; as appearing to go on a particular occasion,
may give me an excuse for not continuing long in that
quarter.

I have seen J. D. and Penn. The former, I believe,
has suffered himself to be made a tool ; your lordship
will soon see him. The latter is steady for America.
His account of the determined spirit and resolution of
the people there, agrees with that which we have
generally received. He brings a very decent and manly
petition from the Congress. It mentions no specific
conditions, but, in general, it is for peace. Lord
Chatham is the idol, as usual. I find by Penn that, in
America, they have scarce any idea of the state of men
and parties here, nor who are their friends or foes. To
this he attributes much of their nonsense about the
Declaratory Act.

Just as I finished this sentence, the paper gives an
account (to which I cannot help giving some credit)
that a great battle is fought near Boston, to the

206 EDMUND BURKE [1775

disadvantage of the unhappy Americans. Though this
would add much to the difficulties of our present con-
duct, it makes no change in the necessity of doing
something effectual before the meeting of Parliament.
Your lordship will have the goodness to present,
&c.. &c.

EDM. BUBKE.

BTJEKE, ESQ., TO THE DUKE OP
RICHMOND

September 26, 1775.
MY DEAB LORD,

I should hardly take the liberty of troubling your
grace at this time, if I were not most thoroughly
persuaded that there is a very particular call of honour
and conscience on all those of your grace's situation,
and of your sentiments, to do something towards
preventing the ruin of your country, which, if I am
not quite visionary, is approaching with the greatest
rapidity. There is a short interval between this and
the meeting of Parliament. Much may depend upon
the use which shall be made of it.

I am perfectly sensible of the greatness of the
difficulties, and the weakness and fewness of the helps,
in every public affair which you can undertake. I am
sensible, too, of the shocking indifference and neutrality
of a great part of the nation. But a speculative despair
is unpardonable, where it is our duty to act. I cannot
think the people at large wholly to blame ; or, if they
were, it is to no purpose to blame them. For God's
sake, my dear lord, endeavour to mend them. I must
beg leave to put you in mind, without meaning, I am
sure, to censure the body of our friends, much less the
most active among them, but I must put you in-mind,
that no regular or sustained endeavours of any kind
have been used to dispose the people to a better sense
of their condition. Any election must be lost, any
family interest in a county would melt away, if greater
pains, infinitely greater, were not employed to carry on

1775] TO THE DUKE OF RICHMOND 207

and support them, than have ever been employed in
this end and object of all elections, and in this most
important interest of the nation and of every individual
in it. The people are not answerable for their present
supine acquiescence ; indeed they are not. God and
nature never made them to think or to act without
guidance and direction. They have obeyed the only
impulse they have received. "When they resist such
endeavours as ought to be used by those, who by their
rank and fortune in the country, by the goodness of
their characters, and their experience in their affairs,
are their natural leaders, then it will be time enough
to despair, and to let their blood lie upon their own
heads. I must again beg your grace not to think that,
in excusing the people, I mean to blame our friends.
Very far from it. Our inactivity has arisen solely from
a natural and most pardonable error, (an error, however, )
that it was enough to attend diligently, and to be active
in Parliament.

But you will say, Why all this ? why now ? why
to me ? I will tell you. It is, that your grace can do
more than anybody else at all times ; at this time
nobody but your grace can do what I apprehend to be
for the most essential service to the public.

Ireland is always a part of some importance in the
general system ; but Ireland never was in the situation
of real honour, and real consequence, in which she now
stands. She has the balance of the empire, and, perhaps,
its fate for ever in her hands. If the Parliament which
is shortly to meet there should interpose a friendly
mediation, should send a pathetic address to the king,
and a letter to both Houses of Parliament here, it is
impossible that they should not succeed. If they
should only add to this, a suspension of extraordinary
grants and supplies, for troops employed out of the
kingdom, in effect, employed against their own
clearest rights and privileges, they would preserve the
whole empire from a ruinous war, and with a saving,
rather than expense, prevent this infatuated country
from establishing a plan which tends to its own ruin, by

208 EDMUND BURKE [1775

enslaving all its dependencies. Ministry would not like
to have a contest with the whole empire upon their
hands at once. I have not the most enthusiastic
opinion of the dignity of thinking which prevails in
Ireland ; but if pains are taken, they cannot be so
unnatural as to refuse one kind word towards peace ;
or not to suspend m this crisis, for a few moments, the
rage and lust of granting ; not to delay, at least, the
exhausting of their own purses, for the purpose of
destroying their own liberties. Your grace, closely
connected with the first peer and the first commoner
of that kingdom, and who may have as much influence
as you please upon both, can do this business effectually.
Ponsonby is in opposition. If these three unite heartily,
-(why should they not^J-^they will carry a point
which will send them with infinite popularity to the
approaching general election. Here the Cavendishes
may be greatly useful ; and they are in all respects the
men most natural, and in all respects the best adapted,
to co-operate with your grace's endeavours. This is
truly a great point ; and far, very far, from being
desperate in proper hands. I wish most earnestly to
see your grace in London. Surely no time ought to be
lost. I thought it necessary to attend to my little
department. I paid a visit to Bristol. The Tories and
courtiers are powerful there, but not omnipotent. The
corporation is their principal strength ; but hitherto
they have been defeated in their attempts to obtain an
address from thence. Our Mends were dejected, "but
not alienated. By putting things into a little train, we
are in a better posture and in more heart. If the enemy
should succeed in the corporation, the town at large
will show better dispositions. We do not despair, and
we will work even when we do. A little committee is
appointed there, to correspond and carry on business
with method and regularity.

Some steps are taking towards doing the same thing
in London. Baker has done his duty as he ought. With
assistance, countenance, and counsel, we may be
useful ; not otherwise.

1775] TO THE DUKE OF RICHMOND 209

I beg pardon for this long and unmanaged letter.
I am on thorns. I cannot, at my ease, see Bussian
barbarism let loose to waste the most beautiful object
that ever appeared upon this globe. Adieu, my dear
lord ; you want nothing but to be sensible of afi your _
importance.

I am, with the greatest truth,

My dear lord,

Your grace's ever obedient and affectionate
humble servant,

EDM. BTTRKE.

EDMUND BUEKE, ESQ., TO THE MABQTJIS OF
BOCKIJSTGHAM

* October 17, 1775.

MY DEAR LOBD,

I was engaged all yesterday evening, or I had
intended to cafl at Grosvenor Square. This morning
I must look over several African papers. This is the
cause of my troubling your lordship in this manner.

Lord Chatham's coming out is always a critical thing
to your lordship. But even if he should not attack, as
it is possible he may not, would it be right for your
lordship, in a great American affair, to let him and his
partisans have the whole field to themselves ? If he
is tender of you, you will naturally be tender of him.
But a gentle hint of a wish, that Parliament should lay
the foundation rather than the Crown ; and that as
taxation was the great ground of the quarrel, the
co-operation of the House of Gammons, if not the
origination there, would be a necessary part of a good
plan ; and that the Crown would want both authority
and credit without some previous resolution of that
House ; (that proposition, Lord John's, had been
made and rejected ;) these would be, I think, proper
hints to add to what your lordship had been thinMng of.
But if the thing is even tolerably right, your lordship
might express your wish to concur in it.

Ever most faithfully your lordship's servant,

EDM. BUEKE.

210 EDMUND BURKE [1776

EDMUND BTJUKE, ESQ., TO RICHABD CHAMPION, ESQ.

March, 1776.
MY DEAB CHAMPION,

I do not know which was best in the intention, the
zeal of our worthy friend for a good public cause, or
yours for a friend whom you love for the natural reason
of having obliged Mm. 1 I ought not, perhaps, to put
a public and private cause upon a par ; but there is
so much belonging to goodness in the latter, that it
compensates for the superior dignity in the former ;
and whatever besides is wanting to make the scale
even, is thrown in by a man's partiality to himself.
Be that as it may, pray, my dear Champion, do not let
these little disputes go^beyond the heat of the moment,
or leave any sort of soreness behind them. If we do,
we play the game of that unhappy set of men whose
business is, and ever has been, to divide the men whose
cause they pretended to be engaged in. It is to this
point all their speeches, writings, and intrigues of all
sorts, tend. They have been hitherto, in some sort,
disappointed ; disappoint them completely. This I
beg may be the case, I should be unhappy and^ morti-
fied beyond measure, if a difference of opinion on
a point, after all, of mere speculation, should produce
the least coolness between those who for every public
and every private reason, should live in the warmest
friendship, and who are mutually deserving it from
each other, and from everybody else. What is all this
matter? Those who wished to quiet America by
concession, thought it best to make that concession at
the least possible diminution of the reputation and
authority of this country. This was the prhtciple of

1 This letter refers to an amicable altercation, carried
perhaps to the very verge of a quarrel, between Mr. Cham-
pion and a Bristol friend of Burke's, who blamed him for
having supported the Act declaring the right of Great
Britain to legislate for her colonies in all cases whatsoever,
wMch was passed during the administration of Lord
Rockingham at the same time as the repeal of the Stamp
Act.

1776] TO RICHARD CHAMPION 211

those who acted in a responsible situation for that
measure, in 1766. Li this possibly they were wrong.
Others thought they ought rather to have convicted
their country of robbery, and to have given up the
object, not as a liberal donation, but as a restitution of
stolen goods. They thought that there were speculative
bounds, with regard to legislative power, on which they
could maintain one part whilst they abandoned others.
They thought it dangerous to trust themselves with
indefinite powers. They had reason; because they
made such use of them, in a twelvemonth after they
had denied their legal existence, as to bring on the
present unhappy consequences. 3Sfow, if any friend
of ours thinks, from the theory and practice of these
gentlemen, that their hands ought to have been tied
from doing mischief , I am sure I am more inclined to
praise Ms zeal, than to blame his error, if he be in a mis-
take. We are on the right side ; it becomes us to be
reasonable. Let Dr. Price rail at the Declaratory Act
of 1766. His friends have so abused it, that it is but
too natural. Let him rail at this declaration, as those
rail at free-will, who have sinned in consequence of it.
Once for all, my dear friend, be again without a shadow,
a relish, a smutch, a tinge, anything, the slightest that
can be imagined, of anger, at the honest opinion of one
of the worthiest men in the world. All comes from the
best cause in the world. Adieu, my dear friend ; salute
your worthy family in the name of all here.

Your ever affectionate friend, and
humble servant,
EDM. BUEKE.

EDMTOB BTJBKE, ESQ., TO JOHN BOURKE, ESQ.*
Beaconsfidd, Thursday, July 11, 1776.
MY BEAU JOHN,

I do assure you that I do not want any of that
uncritical friendliness and partiality which you ascribe
to me, to induce me very much to lie and admire what

1 A merchant in the city of London, whose family,

212 EDMUND BURKE [1776

I have read in the Gazetteer this morning. The subject
is very well handled ; the language remarkably neat and
pure ; and I am sure the principles are honest and
constitutional. I do not perhaps go all the length of
thinking Mr. Wilkes's promise quite a nullity. It is,
I admit, never wise, perhaps not often justifiable, to
make such engagements ; and cases may certainly be
put where the merit will lie in breaking them. But, if
they are made, they ought to be kept ; and the maker
ought to have looked into the propriety of making, and
the possibility of keeping them, when he made such
declarations. Such professors ought to be held tight
to their promises, if it answered no other end than to
make them cautious in deceiving the people. When,
in the issue, it may prove that some part of the deceit
falls upon themselves, it is proper to give them no
sort of dispensation, and to allow them no kind of
evasion. Our friend is perhaps too young to remember
the origin of all this professing, promising, and testing ;
but he would laugh if he knew, that the woli is now
howling in the snare which he had originally laid for
honest men. This traitor raised an outcry among that
mob who have now surrendered him over to his
and their enemies, against all the honest part of the
opposition, because they would not join him and his
associates, in disclaiming the fair objects of ambition
or accommodation, whenever private honour or public
principles admitted of them. We were put out of the
question as patriots, stripped of all support from the
multitude, and the alternative wildly and wickedly
put between those who disclaimed all employments,
and the mere creatures of the court. They would hear
of nobody else. So that nothing has happened, but
what they have chosen and prepared. Whenever they
fail, the court must profit. I remember that the Shel-
burne faction acted just in the same manner ; until,
having overloaded the stomachs of their adherents,
they were vomited up with loathing and disgust. It was
descended from the same Norman stock as that of
Edmund Burke, had settled in the county of Mayo.

1776] TO JOHN BOURKE 213

but a few months after Lord Shelburne had told me,
gratis, (for nothing led to it,) that the people (always
meaning the common people of London) were never in
the wrong, that he and all his friends were driven with
scorn out of that city. However, I admit, with our
worthy friend, that the baseness and corruptness of
Mr. Oliver and the livery, is not much the less for the
villany of him whom they have abandoned the first
moment he could hope to derive, from their protection,
ease and comfort for his age. Let me wish my young
friend, at his entrance into life, to draw a useful lesson
from the unprincipled behaviour of a corrupt and
licentious people : that is, never to sacrifice his prin-
ciples to the hope of obtaining their affections ; to
regard and wish them well, as a part of his fellow
creatures, whom his best instincts and his highest duties
lead him to love and serve, but to put as little trust in
them as in princes. For what inward resource has he,
when turned out of courts or hissed out of town halls,
who has made their opinions the only standard of
what is* right, and their favour the sole means of Ms
happiness ? I have heard as yet nothing about our
future engagement. Possibly the servant I have sent
to Lord Buckingham may arrive before the post goes
out. He is arrived, and I have no answer. Lord
Buckingham was not in town.

I am, with the best regards of all here,

Dear Bourke,
Ever affectionately yours,

EDM. BURKE.

Our love to the occasionalist, but not server of
occasions.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO A MEMBER 01 THE
BELL CLUB, BEISTOL

Beaconsfidd, October 31, 1777.
DEAR SIR,

You will be so good as to present my best and most
affectionate compliments to our friends and fellow
members of the Bell Club, and assure them of my real

2M BDMDKD BURKE [1777

coacern that my affairs* and the advanced and un-
certain season of the year, will not permit me to make
one among them, in their good-natured and cheerful
enjoyment of our annual festival.

The fourth of November can never return without
giving me a pleasing sense of the high honour I received,
on that day. It renews in my memory the obligations
which I have to so many worthy friends ; and what
is better, it revives and refreshes in my mind those
principles to which I originally was indebted for their
favour. I wish that on all sides we may never forget
them. A season somewhat cloudy may try our patience
and perseverance for a time ; but I trust that a time
will come, when we may act with a little more success,
because with a little more assistance from several of
our countrymen ; from whom, by mistakes and mis-
conceptions of our meaning, we have been divided ;
and when a bitter experience has taught to several
those lessons of prudence and moderation which they
would not submit to learn from reason and foresight.

But whether the disposition of the conductors or
abettors of the present measures shall alter or not,
I trust that you will always find me upon the same
ground ; a well-wisher to the peace of my country, and
a steady friend to the liberties of all parts of it, accord-
ing to the best notions which so limited a capacity as
mine, is capable of forming on this great subject. I will
continue, to the best of my judgement, to act as I have
done ; and I have no doubt that I shall meet my
friends in Parliament, animated with their ancient
sentiments, and ready to take such a part of vigilant
observation, or vigorous action, as the time and cir-
cumstances shall require from honest experienced men,
who govern their principles by the truth of things, and
direct their conduct by their opportunities* Our task
is difficult ; we shall certainly do our best. But you
ought not solely to rely on us ; for be assured, that it
is not either the Members of Parliament, or the men in
any other public capacity, that have made or kept
a people sale and free, if they were wanting to them-

1777] TO A MEMBER OF THE BELL CLUB 215

selves. If members are honest, they deserve, and I am
sure they will want support ; if they are corrupt, they
merit, and I am sure they ought to have blame and
reprehension. We are like other men, who all want to
be moved by praise or shame ; by reward and punish-
ment. We must be encouraged by our constituents,
and we must be kept in awe of them, or we never shall
do our duty as we ought. Believe me, it is a great
truth, that there never was, for any long time, a cor-
rupt representative of a virtuous people ; or a mean,
sluggish, careless people that ever had a good govern-
ment of any form. If it be true in any degree, that the
governors form the people, I am certain it is as true
that the people in their turn impart their character to
their rulers. Such as you are, sooner or later, must
Parliament be. I therefore wish that you, at least,
would not suffer yourselves to be amused by the style,
now grown so common, of railing at the corruption of
Members of Parliament. This kind of general invective
has no kind of effect that I know of, but to make you
think ill of that very institution, which, do what you
will, you must religiously preserve, or you must give
over all thoughts of being a free people. An opinion
of the indiscriminate corruption of the House of
Commons will, at length, induce a disgust of parlia-
ments. They are the corrupters themselves, who
circulate this general charge of corruption. Jt is they
that have an interest in confounding all distinctions,
and involving the whole in one general charge. They
hope to corrupt private life by the example of the
public ; and having produced a despair, from a supposed
general failure of principles, they hope that they may
persuade you, that since it is impossible to do any good,
you may as well have your share in the profits of
doing ill.

Where there are towards six hundred persons, with
much temptation and common frailty, many will un-
doubtedly be moved from the line of duty. But I have
told you before, and I am not afraid to repeat it, that
there are many more amongst us who are free from

216 EDMUND BURKE [1777

all sorts of corruption, and of a more excellent public
spirit, than could well be expected. Since there is this
difference, it is the business of the constituents to
distinguish what it is the policy of some to confound.
When you find men that you ought to trust, you must
give them support ; else it is not them that you desert,
but yourselves that you betray. Nor is it at all difficult
to make this distinction. The way to do it is quite
plain and simple. It is to be attentive to the conduct
of men, and to judge of them by their actions, and by
nothing else.

It is true that many of our brethren, from their
habits of life, and their not being on the actual scene
of business, are not capable of forming an opinion upon
every several question of law or politics, or, of course,
of determining on a man's conduct with relation to
such questions. But every man in the club, and every
man in the same situation in the kingdom, is perfectly
capable, as capable as if he were a Minister of State or
a Chief Justice, of determining whether public men
look most to their own interest or to yours ; or whether
they act a uniform, clear, manly part in their station :
whether the main drift of their counsels, for any series
of years, be wise or foolish, or whether things go well
or ill in their hands.

You will, therefore, not listen to those who tell you
that these matters are above you, and ought to be left
entirely to those into whose hands the king has put
them. The public interest is more your business than
theirs ; and it is from want of spirit, and not from
want of ability, that you can become wholly unfit to
argue or to judge upon it. For in this very thing lies
the difference between freemen and those that are not
free. In a free country every man thinks he has
a concern in all public matters ; that he has a right to
form and a right to deliver an opinion upon them.
Tl*ey sift, examine, and discuss them. They are curious,
eager, attentive, and jealous ; and by making such
matters the daily subjects of their thoughts and dis-
coveries, vast numbers contract a very tolerable

1777] TO A MJtCMJhJJEK OF THE BELL CLUB 217

knowledge of them, and some a very considerable one.
And this it is that fills free countries with men of
ability in all stations. Whereas, in other countries,
none but men whose office calls them to it having much,
care or thought about public affairs, and not danng to
try the force of their opinions with one another, ability
of this sort is extremely rare in any station of life. In
free countries there is often found more real public
wisdom and sagacity m shops and manufactories, than
in the cabinets of princes in countries where none dares
to have an opinion until he comes into them. Your
whole importance, therefore, depends upon a constant
discreet use of your own reason ; otherwise you and
your country sink to nothing. If upon any particular
occasion you should be roused, you will not know what
to do. Your fire will be a fire in straw, fitter to waste
and consume yourselves, than to warm or enliven
anything else. You will be only a giddy mob, upon
whom no sort of reliance is to be had. You may
disturb your country, but you never can reform your
Government. In other nations they have for some
time indulged themselves in a larger use of this manly
liberty than formerly they dared.

EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO RICHABD CHAMPION, ESQ.
Tuesday night, April 14, 1778.

MY DEAB CHAMPION,

I find that the people of Bristol are about as wise
as I expected they would turn out ; that is, as wise as
their neighbours are likely to be on this occasion,
neither more nor less. These things are mere trifles,
and known to be such by those from Ireland, who seek,
and by the ministers here, who consent to them. But
they are merely to satisfy the minds of the people there ;
to show a good disposition in this country ; and to
prevent the spreading of universal discontent and
disaffection. If the people of Bristol choose to show

218 EDMUKD BURKE [1778

their ill- will to a business which I conceive they will
not be able to prevent, they may make enemies without
gratifying their passions ; but I shall be very sorry
for if. Their showing good humour and an open,
enlarged, and communicative disposition on this
occasion would have done them infinite honour, and
would, in the end, have turned out extremely to their
local advantage, as well as to the general benefit. But
these things are hid from their eyes. If, in the dis-
cussion of the resolutions which I sent, any tolerable
number of merchants in any branch ; or, failing them,
any number of inhabitants, would send a counter
petition, it might help to save their credit in some
degree. I am astonished at .... How have I offended
him ? I thought I had done the contrary ; and as to
the rest of my friends, I rather fancied they would so
much have entered into my views, as rather to have
co-operated with me than thwarted me in a matter, in
which I must be at least as good a judge as they,
though they know the conduct of their particular
affairs better than I do. I cannot wish Bristol ill ;
and what have I to do with Ireland, further than as it
regards the advantage of the whole ? But I shall go
on my own way, and they will find the error of theirs
in the long run. . . .

We were beat about the lighthouse. Our cause was
most just ,- but Treasury and Admiralty appeared
against us, and we could not stand it. It is rare for
Lord North to show himself on a private bill ; but he
stayed it out last night. That night, however, he had
been shamefully defeated on the bill brought in by
Sir Philip Olerke, to drive his jobbers and contractors
out of the House. Surely, never minister was, in all
ways, more exposed.

Salute from me and Jane Mrs. Champion and yours
most affectionately.

Yours most sincerely,

EDM. BUBKE.

1778] TO JOHN NOBLE 219

EDMUND BXJRKE, ESQ., TO JOHN NOBLE, ESQ.

Beaconsfidd, Aprit 24, 1778.
MY DEAB Sin,

It would always be my wish to devote every leisure
hour to my friends at Bristol. When I am not em-
ployed in their business, I should be happy in the
enjoyment of their company. But, for various reasons,
this is not a moment in which I can indulge myself in
that gratification. I feel myself something weakened,
and extremely fatigued, by the attendance in the most
laborious session I remember, since 1768. I want a little
rest much more than the hurry of two journeys, which
are to carry me to and from debates and altercations.
I would, however, very willingly, give up my rest and
sacrifice my private affairs, but I fear that a visit from
me at this time, and in the present temper of the city
of Bristol, would do much more harm than good. The
letter I send to Merchants' Hall this night, together
with my former on the same subject, and that which
I wrote to you a few days ago, contain the whole of
what I have to say upon the Irish resolutions. You
will consider them with more deliberation when you
are not heated by personal discussion. You are, indeed,
as capable in every respect of forming a correct judge-
ment on this matter as any man in the world ; but
I am afraid you have been surprised, and surprised by
those who do not wish you as well as I do. I find that
the part I have taken is not very agreeable to you ;
and it is not in the moment of displeasure that one's
arguments are likely to be most convincing.

You tell me that you are unanimous in this affair.
Unanimity is so good a thing, that if it were purchased
only at my expense, I should very heartily congratulate
you on it. I did, indeed, expect you to be unanimous,
but upon principles very different ; upon the principles
which, in this, as well as in some other affairs, have led
us to be unanimous in Parliament. I mean a general
and hearty desire to bind up the wounds of our country,

220 EDMUND BURKE [1778

and to provide all that we possibly can towards re-
moving, or, at least, mitigating, the evils which our
late proceedings have brought upon the nation.
I thought that they whose mistaken zeal had forwarded
those measures, would have been forward also to make
amends for, the calamities which their haste and
warmth had produced, by the hearty adoption of
a better system ; and that those who had always
disliked the plan which had been fatally pursued,
would have cheerfully lent their assistance in alleviating
the mischiefs which they had always foreseen and
deprecated. Unfortunately, the patrons of the first
scheme have prevailed in Bristol and some other
places, and their opposers are converted to their
opinions, even by the ill success which has attended
them, I confess I cannot see this sort of unanimity
with any degree of satisfaction. You are so good as to
say that you wish to see me Member for Bristol at the
next general election. I most sincerely thank you, and
beg leave to add this friendly wish to the innumerable
obligations which I have to you already. To represent
Bristol is a capital object of my pride at present ;
indeed, I have nothing external on which I can value
myself, but that honourable situation. If I should live
to the next general election, and if being a Member of
Parliament at that time should be desirable to me,
I intend to offer myself again to your approbation. But
far from wishing to throw the memory of the present
business into the shade, I propose to put it forward to
you, and to plead my conduct on this occasion, as
matter of merit, on which to ground my pretensions to
your future favour. I do not wish to represent Bristol,
or to represent any place, but upon terms that shall be
honourable to the chosen and to the choosers. I do
not desire to sit in Parliament for any other end than
that of promoting the common happiness of all those
who are, in any degree, subjected to our legislative
authority ; and of binding together, in one common
tie of civil interest and constitutional freedom, every
denomination of men amongst us. When God has given

1778] TO JOHN NOBLE 221

any men hands, and any other men shall be found
impious or mistaken enough to say that they shall not
work, my voice shall not be with those men. The
principles I have stated to you I take to be Whig
principles ; if they are not I am no Whig. I most
heartily disclaim that, or any other, denomination,
incompatible with such sentiments.

What interest, my dear sir, have my friends in
Bristol, that I should expose myself by a dereliction
of every opinion and principle that I have held since
I first set my foot in Parliament ? My voice could not
carry the question. The opposition to it on my part,
and perhaps even on yours, will probably be vain;
and the only effect which can result from it will be, the
taking away some part of the grace and goodwill which
must make the chief value of such trifling concessions.

I have written my letter to the Hall, to my consti-
tuents of all denominations. 1 This, and my former,
I have written to my own particular Mends ; and I wish
these letters, if you please, to be read at the Bush, and
the Bell Club.

I am, with the sincerest regard, my dear sir,

Your affectionate and obedient
humble servant,

EDM. BUBKE.

EDMUND BITRKE, ESQ., TO RICHARD SHACEXETON

May 26, 1779.
MY DEAB FRIEND,

I do most heartily congratulate you on your enjoy-
ment of the greatest good fortune which can attend
our time of life. I mean a retreat from care and toil,
with the view of a child entering into active life, with
a fair prospect, in his turn, of enjoying the same repose,
and in the same place. If I had less interest than I

1 Burke's letter to the Master of the Hall, of the 23rd
of April in this year, is given in the * World's Classics '
edition of Bui Ice's Writings and Speeches, Vol. II, p, 289.

222 EDMUND BURKE [1779

really have in this situation of your affairs, merely as
a situation, it could not fail to give me pleasure. May
you grow more and more pleased with the satisfaction
which you so well deserve, both you and your excellent
wife ! Give, in my name, all sorts of felicitation to the
third Shackleton, who, I have no doubt, will fill his
place as well as the two first, and better he cannot.
That young gentleman has been always a very great
favourite of mine, on account of his excellent good
parts, and the openness and liberality of nature that
I observed in him. These dispositions will ensure much
happiness to you and to himself, and will enable him
to supply many virtuous and useful citizens to his
country. I hope he will help to fill up the succession
of the world, in its progress to better things, public,
and private, than we have the fortune to see at this
moment. Your solicitude about my son is very kind
and flattering to us both. It does not become me to
say all I think of him. My partiality may naturally
influence my judgement in such a case. But to you,
I may perhaps be allowed to express myself, as I think
and as I feel, on any subject. I thank God, he much
more than answers my hopes of him, I do not know
how I could wish him to be in any particular what-
soever, other than what be is. He has been, for some
time, in the Inns of Court ; and intends himself for that
profession which is so leading in this country, and
which has this peculiar advantage, that even a failure
in it stands almost as a sort of qualification for other
things. Whether he will ever desire, or ever have it in
his choice, to engage further in public affairs, is more
than I am able to foresee. If he should, I am sure
that your kind admonitions will have their full effect,
upon a constitution of mind very well disposed to
receive every lesson of virtue. What you say about
his engaging in parties may be right, for anything
I know to the contrary. The nature, composition,
objects, and quality of the parties which may exist in
his time, or in the form of commonwealth he may live
to see, are not easy to be guessed at. It must be

1779] TO RICHARD SHACKLETON 223

wholly left to himself, and must depend upon the
future state of things, and the situation in which he
is found relatively to them. c Humana qua parte locatus
es in re ', is the best rule, both in morals and in prudence ;
and the progressive sagacity that keeps company with
times and occasions, and decides upon things in their
existing position, is that alone which can give true
propriety, grace, and effect to a man's conduct. It
is very hard to anticipate the occasion, and to live
by a rule more general. As to parties, there is much
discussion about them in political morality ; but,
whatever their merits may be, they have always existed,
and always will ; and, as far as my own observation
has gone, I have observed but three kinds of men that
have kept out of them : Those who profess nothing
but a pursuit of their own interest, and who avow
their resolution of attaching themselves to the present
possession of power, in whose-ever hands it is, or however
it may be used ; The other sort are ambitious men, of
light or no principles, who, in their turns, make use of
all parties, and therefore avoid entering into what may
be construed an engagement with any. Such was, in
a great measure, the late Earl of Chatham, who expected
a very blind submission of men to him, without con-
sidering himself as having any reciprocal obligation to
them. It is true that he very often rewarded such
submission in a very splendid manner, but with very
little marks of respect or regard to the objects of his
favour ; and as he put confidence in no man, he had
very few feelings of resentment against those who the
most bitterly opposed or most basely betrayed him :
The third sort is hardly worth mentioning, being com-
posed only of four or five country gentlemen of little
efficiency in public business. It is but a few days
ago, that a very wise and a very good man (the Duke of
Portland) said to me, in a conversation on this subject,
that he never knew any man disclaim party, who was
not of a party that he was ashamed of. But thus much
I allow, that men ought to be circumspect, and cautious
of entering into this species of poEtical relation ; because

224 EDMUND BURKE [1779

it cannot easily be broken without loss of reputation,
nor (many times) persevered in without giving up
much of that practicability which the variable nature
of affairs may require, as well as of that regard to
a man's own personal consideration, which (in a due
subordination to public good) a man may very fairly
aim at. All acting in corps tends to reduce the con-
sideration of an individual who is of any distinguished
value. As to myself, and the part I have taken in my
time, I apprehend there was very little choice. Things
soon fell into two very distinct systems. The principle
upon which this empire was to be governed made
a discrimination of the most marked nature. I cannot
think that I have been in the wrong so far as the public
was concerned ; and as to my own annihilation by it,
with regard to all the objects of man in public life,
it is of too small importance to spend many words upon
it. In the course I have taken, I have met, and do daily
meet, so many vexations, that I may with truth assure
you, that my situation is anything rather than enviable,
though it is my happiness to act with those that are far
the best that probably ever were engaged in the public
service of this country at any time. So little satisfaction
have I, that I should not hesitate a moment to retire
from public business, if I were not in some doubt of the
right a man has, that goes a certain length in those
things ; and if it were not from an observation, that
there are often obscure vexations and contests in the
most private life, which may as effectually destroy
a man's peace, as anything which may happen in public
contentions. Adieu, my dear friend ; enjoy your
natural and deserved happiness ; renew mine, and my
wife's best wishes to Mrs. Shackleton and the young
pair. Both Richards join most cordially in them,
I am always, my dear Shackleton.

Yours, affectionately and faithfully,
EDM. BURKE.

1779] TO DR. JOHN CURRY 225

EDMTJKD BURKE, ESQ., TO I>B* JOHN CUBBY

August M, 1779.
MY BEAB SIR,

I have this instant received your letter of the 6th
of this month. It demands an immediate answer,
as it may prevent a business, which is not quite rightly
understood, from proceeding any farther. I am satisfied
that you, and the gentlemen concerned, are perfectly
incapable of meaning any offence to me, and therefore,
so far from taking any, I consider the thing as very
kindly imagined, and am obliged to you for your
intentions. But it is impossible for me, with any agree-
ment to my sense of propriety, to accept any sort of
compensation for services which I may endeavour to
do upon a public account. If the bill you allude to
should come before you receive this, I must return it
by post to the gentleman who transmits it, I have
attempted to be useful on many occasions, and to
various descriptions of men, and all I wish in return
is, that if I have been so fortunate as to do them any
service, they will endeavour to improve it to the best
advantage to themselves. My endeavours in the Irish
business, in which I was, indeed, very active and very
earnest, both in public and in private, were wholly
guided by an uniform principle, which is interwoven
in my nature* and which has hitherto regulated, and
I hope will continue to regulate, my conduct, I mean
an utter abhorrence of all kinds of public injustice and
oppression ; the worst species of which are those,
which being converted into maxims of state, and
blending themselves with law and jurisprudence,
corrupt the very fountains of all equity, and subvert
all the purposes of government. From those principles,
I have ever had a particular detestation to the penal
system of Ireland, and I am yet very far from satisfied
with what has been done towards correcting it, which
I consider as no more than a good beginning^ I am
convinced that if some people had acted with the
wisdom that became their station, and the fairness

237 I

226 EDMUOT) BURKE [1779

which, even from them, I expected, in a matter which
it was so much their interest to forward, things would
have proceeded rapidly towards a reformation, and
that too with great good humour, and concurrence
of all sorts of people. But, as matters have been
carried, serious difficulties have arisen, and will continue,
as I am afraid you will find. I hope and trust you will
do your part towards removing them. The gentlemen
of your persuasion will go on to recommend your
attachment to the government you live under, but not
in a factious manner, nor by invidious comparisons
with other people which will not be borne. It is a
liberty which, I hope, you will have the goodness to
excuse, if I recommend to you, that, while you do
all you can to approve yourselves dutiful subjects to
the Crown, you da not fall into that species of servility,
and of blind party rage, with which new attachments
to power are commonly cultivated. In your situation,
I would be so far a friend to the court, as not to give
occasion to every friend to the constitution to become
an enemy to me and my cause. To the great liberality
and enlarged sentiments of those who are the furthest
in the world from you in religious tenets, and the
furthest from acting with the party which, it is thought,
the greater part of the Boman Catholics are disposed
to espouse, it is that you owe the whole, or very nearly
the whole, of what has been done both here and in
Ireland. I, who know more of the secret history, as
well as the public, of this business, than falls to the share
of many, can faithfully assure you of the truth of this.
The same dignity of mind which induced them to favour
those with whom they did not agree, will keep them
from demanding, as a test of gratitude from the
Catholics, such an adherence as would alienate that
power, without whose concurrence, or at least acqui-
escence, nothing can be done for you. All that I wish
is, that you would not return hostility for benefits
received; but that you would, in general, keep your-
selves quiet, as those ought to do, who, not being yet
admitted to the commonwealth, will naturally find it

1779] TO DR. JOHN CURRY 227

the best course to interfere as little as possible with
the parties that divide the state. I do not say this as
if anything were done, by the generality of your
persuasion in Ireland, which gives occasion for this
caution; but there are a few whose conduct and
discourses furnish a ground for it amongst us, or I am.
greatly misinformed.

I am glad that you have thought of collecting some
little fund for public purposes. But if I were to
venture to suggest anything relative fco its application,
I think you had better employ that, and whatever else
can be got together for so good a purpose, to give some
aid to places of education for your own youth at home,
which is, indeed, much wanted. I mean, when the
legislature comes to be so much in its senses, as to feel
that there is no good reason for condemning a million
and a half of people to ignorance, according to act of
parliament. This will be a better use of your money,
than to bestow it in gratuities to any persons in
England ; for those who will receive such rewards very
rarely do any services to deserve them. Therefore,
I recommend it to you, to look very carefully about
you, before you make any such use of your money.
I do not mean by this, that professional men are not
to be considered for professional services ; or that,
amongst yourselves, you are not to distribute to
each other, such helps as may enable you the better
to pursue your very just and honest objects.

EDMUND BTJRKE, ESQ., TO RICHARD SHACKLETON
Charles Street, May 6, 1780,

MY DEAR

The challenge in your letter is accepted, and I shall
be happy to give you a meeting about that season
which you find it so difficult to give a name to. I am
in doubt whether this letter can meet you before your
leaving Ballitore : I hope it may not. I hope too,
that if you can come, I may be able to have a day or
two at leisure for you. I never remember to have been

228 EDMUND BURKE [1780

so completely overpowered and oppressed by business ;
and that of various, and some of it of a very disagreeable
nature. Our life is indeed a warfare. I keep up my
spirits as well as I can, and whilst I am in action they
are well kept up ; but my moments of rest are not
always moments of quiet. I do not know anything
which would tend to make me forget all the disagreeable
things which pass, so much as a few calm moments with
you at Beconsfield, if I could get them ; and though
I should be happy in seeing any friend of yours, I think
we should be rather more at home with yourself ; but
that shall be according to your pleasure. When you
were here last, we were chained to the town. How
that will be at your next coming, I know not ; for
there is nothing with us altogether right. But you
will see my son, who is a new accession to our society,
and not the worst part of it.

By the way, I forget, as indeed I forget many
things which I ought to remember, the pretty poem
you sent me about Ballitore. It has that in it which
I always consider as a mark of genius ; the turning
to account the images and objects that one is familiar
and conversant with, and not running at all into
repetition or over-improvement (if that were possible)
of the images which have struck others, in other places
and times. This latter shows that people have little
fire of their own, though they may be capable of kindling
at the fire of others ; and it does not mark them as good
observers, though it may as retentive readers. What
true and pretty pastoral images has Goldsmith in his
Deserted tillage i They beat all ; Pope, and Phillips,
and Spenser, too, in my opinion ; that is, in the
pastoral, for I go no farther. Our own manners afford
food enough for poetry, if we knew how to dress it.
God Almighty bless you and yours. Remember me
cordially to Mrs. Shackleton, your daughter, and the
young gentleman that succeeds and revives old
Abraham.

Ever yours,

EDM. BUBKE.

1780] TO RICHARD SHAOKLETON 229

BUEKE, ESQ., TO RICHAED SHACEZETOIT

Tuesday night, June 1780.

MY DEAH SHACKLETO^,

I feel as I ought for your friendly solicitude about
me and this family. Yesterday our furniture was
entirely replaced, and my wife, for the first time since
the beginning of this strange tumult* lay at home.
During that week of havoc and destruction, we were
under the roof of my worthy and valuable friend,
General Burgoyne, who did everything that could be
done to make her situation comfortable to her. You
will hear with satisfaction that she went through the
whole with no small degree of fortitude. On Monday
se'nnight, about nine o'clock, I received undoubted
intelligence, that, immediately after the destruction
of Savile House, mine was to suffer the same fate.
I instantly came home ; (for Mrs. Burke and I were
both abroad when we received this intelligence ;) and
I removed such papers as I thought of most importance.
In about an hour after, sixteen soldiers, without my
knowledge or desire, took possession of the house.
Government had, it seems, been apprised of the design,
at the time when they were informed of the same
ill-intention with regard to houses of so much more
consideration than my little tenement ; and they
obligingly afforded me this protection, by means of
which, under God, I think the house was saved. The
next day I had my books and furniture removed, and
the guard dismissed. I thought, in the then scarcity
of troops, they might be better employed than in look-
ing after my paltry remains. 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
unruly than very ill-disposed. I even found friends

!30 EDMUND BURKE [1780

md well-wishers among the blue cockades. My
:riends had come to me to persuade me to go out of
town ; representing (from their kindness to me) the
langer to be much greater than it was. But I thought
that, if my liberty was once gone, and that I could
not walk the streets of the town with tranquillity,
[ was in no condition to perform the duties for which
[ ought alone to wish for life. I therefore resolved they
should see that, for one, I was neither to be forced nor
intimidated from the straight line of what was right ;
and I returned, on foot, quite through the multitude to
the House, which was covered by a strong body of horse
and foot. I spoke my sentiments in such a way, that
I do not think I have ever on any occasion seemed to
affect the House more forcibly. However, such was
the confusion, that they could not be kept from coming
to a resolution which I thought unbecoming and
pusillanimous ; which was, that we snould take that
flagitious petition, which came from that base gang
called c the protestant association, 5 into our serious
consideration. I am now glad that we did so ; for if
we had refused it, the subsequent ravages would have
been charged upon our obstinacy. For four nights
I kept watch at Lord Roekingharn's, or Sir George
Savile's, whose houses were garrisoned by a strong
body of soldiers, together with numbers of true friends
of the first rank, who were willing to share their danger.
Savile House, Rockingham House, Devonshire House,
to be turned into garrisons ! tempora ! We have all
served the country for several years, some of us for
near thirty, with fidelity, labour, and affection ; and
we are obliged to put ourselves under military pro-
tection for our houses and our persons. The bell rings,
and I have filled my time and paper with a mere account
of this house ; but it is what you will first inquire about,
though of the least concern to others. God bless you ;
remember me to your worthy host. We can hardly
think of leaving town ; there is much to be done to
repair the ruins of our country and its reputation ; as
well as to console the number of families ruined by

1780] TO RICHARD SHACKLETON 231

wickedness, masking itself under the colour of religious
zeal. Adieu, my dear friend ; our best regards to your
daughter.

Yours ever,

EDM. BTIBKE,

EDMUND BUBKE, ESQ., TO THE LOED CHIEF JUSTICE
OF THE COMMON PLEAS *

Charles Street, June 15, 1780.
My LOED,

Before I say anything on business, permit me to
congratulate you on your office and your honours.
I hope you will auspicate both, by your firmness in
the course of real government ; and that instead of
bringing the littleness of parliamentary politics into
a court of justice, you will bring the squareness, the
manliness, and the decision of a judicial place into the
house of parliament, into which you are just entering.
U1 tufortwiam. If you do this, no difference of senti-
ment or of connexion shall hinder me from rejoicing in
your elevation. If I know anything of myself, I have
taken my part in political connexions and political
quarrels, for the purpose of advancing justice and the
dominion of reason ; and I hope I shall never prefer
the means, or any feelings growing out of the use of
those means, to the great substantial end itself.

I send you a copy of the resolutions I had sketched.
You will do what you please with them. If parliament
were possessed of its natural authority, the resolutions
might be as short as those of Queen Anne's reign, from
whence the idea was taken ; but I conceive at the
present time it would be necessary to make them a
little more argumentative ; but you will best judge
which of them it is best to reject or to receive j or
whether they plight not be consolidated into one.
I imagine this last will not be easy. You see that the

1 Lord Loughborough.

232 EDMUND BURKE , [1780

policy of wording the first of them is, to let the dis-
senters perceive that all toleration is on the same
bottom. The scheme of the rest is, to mark the
security of the church, and the danger to which this
protestant fury may expose their brethren abroad.

Forgive me, in repeating to you, that government
must speedily come to a decision, and must make that
decision known to all those who support it. From
a great part of the popular side in a popular question,
that decision cannot possibly be expected. But it will
certainly confirm several that are wavering, both on
your side and on ours ; and will put a stop to those
loose ideas which are wandering about to find an
owner* The idea of reviving departed penalties on
Roman Catholics, to reward the rebellion, and other
atrocious crimes of their adversaries, I hold to be
unnatural ; and when it comes to be tried, will be
found impracticable. But the House (or Houses)
ought, in my opinion, to get the start of any proposition
of that kind, by the clear unequivocal nature of their
declaratory resolutions. Until this step is firmly
taken, the House will continue under the impression
of fear. the most unwise, the most unjust, and the
most cruel of all counsellors.

In order to clear the way for government in this
business, it will (I dare say you wiD agree with me) be
absolutely necessary for the Roman Catholics to appear
before parliament with a moderate and firm petition,
asserting the rights derived to them from their innoxious
behaviour ; and from the solemn stipulation of the
state, when the late oath of fidelity and the qualification
oath were given to them, as weU as to contradict (as
I am persuaded they may do with great safety) the
calumnies which are the origin of this unheard-of,
unprovoked persecution. To have our table loaded
with petitions to do wrong to any one subject, without
any application on his part to be screened from it and
protected in Ms rights, is a situation of things so
unusual and so unnatural, implying so much guilt or
so much folly, that it cannot fail of producing the very

1780] TO THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE 233

worst effects. It is that way of skulking, to which,
under the idea of a prudent caution, the Roman
Catholics have been advised at other times, that has
tended in a very great degree to bring that odium upon
them, which men, who conceal their faces and are
supposed to entertain secret and concealed dogmas,
are always sure to excite ; men, who hold no other
opinions than what were a while ago held by the whole
world, and which are now held by great nations, and
not only not concealed as mysteries, but publicly
avowed, are treated as if they were a new and obscure
sect of fanatics, who entertained principles which they
did not avow, and were growing thereby into a con-
spiracy dangerous to all government. I have long had
an opportunity of observing the mischief of this
ridiculous wisdom of theirs ; or rather, which is infused
info them by those who advise them, not for their
benefit, but for the ease and convenience of the advisers.
But in the present case, government is strongly
interested that it should not seem to protect those
who do not appear fit to be protected ; who fly as
much from the sobriety of parliament as from the fury
of the populace, and who desert and abandon even
their own innocence. I can answer for it, that such
petitions could not fail of a good effect. What think
you of their being advised to petition for what ?
for penalty, imprisonment, and confiscation !

I have seen a publication from Usher, 1 which tends
to throw the load of public indignation, which was
falling upon his gang, on persons obscure or untraceable.
Be assured, my lord, that this can do no good what-
soever. The credit of that association, which is the
true origin of the mischief, can never stand along with
the wise and just law that we have passed two years
ago. That he, who burned the books of his society,
should be suffered to appear as a verbal evidence, to
exculpate those to whom they belonged, I believe
you will not think so proper. Instead of doing this,
in my humble opinion, the names of those who signed
1 He was secretary to the Protestant Association.
13

234 EDMUND BUKKE [1780

the infamous petition which disgraces our table, 1
should be classed alphabetically, which would serve as
a clue for finding their habitations and connexions, and
thereby discover their practices. By separating the
parchment, and putting three or four clerks to it, it
may be done in a few hours. I beg pardon for troubling
your lordship at a time when you have probably but
little leisure ; I shall not add to it by making many
apologies.

I am. with great regard and esteem,

My lord,

Your lordship's most obedient and
humble servant,

EDM. BUEKE.

If you please, I will send you the sketch of what
I thought a proper petition.

EDMUND BUEKE, ESQ., TO JOSEPH HAEFOED, ESQ.
(Sheriff of Bristol.)

Beconsfield, September 27, 1780.
MY DEAE SIB,

The fatigues of the election are over ; and I con-
gratulate you on your return to quiet. I congratulate
you, too, on the order, vigour, and spirit of decision,
that shortened your work, and rendered the election
itself less tedious to the city, and less vexatious and
expensive to the parties than it would have been but
for your exertions. Give my best compliments on
this occasion to your colleagues.

As to the event of the election, it has been just
what it ought to "be^ It was the natural result of the
conduct of all parties, and it may have a tendency to

1 The petition from * the Protestant Association ',
presented by Lord George Gordon on the 3rd of June,
accompanied by an immense body of the rioters.

2 Sir Henry Lippincott and Mr. Brickdale were returned.
Mr. Gruger was beaten by a large majority. Mr, Burke
declined.

1780] TO JOSEPH HARFORD 235

reform the conduct of some of them. The Tories have
not acquired a great deal of glory by the victory they
have obtained, and by the use they have made of
their strength. On the other hand, I am perfectly
convinced, that the defeat both of Mr. Cruger and
myself was a thing proper and necessary. If I had
not been defeated, the Whigs never could be taught
the necessity of vigour, activity, vigilance, and fore-
sight. If Mr. Cruger had not been defeated, his friends
could not have had the chance, they now have of being
cured of presumption, and weak, crooked politics.
Both parties could never have been taught the necessity
of cordial union, the mischief of gentlemen neglecting
to cultivate an interest among the common people,
and the madness of the common people's dream, that
they could be anything without the aid of better
fortunes and better heads than their own. None of
us could be practically taught these essential truths
but by the aid of a defeat.

One great advantage towards our converting our
loss into profit is, that we have lost neither temper
nor credit by it. At present, all our prospects depend
upon the use we make of these circumstances. Our
numbers, though respectable, are not large ; but then,
all the flesh we have is sound, and firm, and fit for
action ; and it is my earnest wish that no accession,
however flattering, may be admitted, if it tends more
to swell our bulk than to augment our force. If it
be, you will-find it a weight to carry, not strength to
carry away anything else.

One thing, my dear friend, your manly sense will
guard you against, the admitting any visionary
politicians amongst us. We are sufficiently secured
(by our exclusion from the court,) ..from the mercenary
of that tribe. But the bane of the Whigs has been
the admission among them of the corps of schemers,
who, in reality and at bottom, mean little more than
to indulge themselves with speculations ; but who
do us infinite mischief by persuading many sober and
well-meaning people that we have designs inconsistent

236 EDMUND BURKE [1780

with the constitution left us by our forefathers. You
know how many are startled with the idea of innova-
tion. Would to God it were in our power to keep
things where they are in point of form, provided we
were able to improve them m point of substance. The
machine itself is well enough to answer any good
purpose, provided the materials were sound. But
what signifies the arrangement of rottenness ?

It is our business to take care that we who are
electors, or corporate magistrates, or freeholders, or
Members of Parliament, or peers (or whatever we
may be,) that we hold good principles, and that we
steadily oppose all bad principles and bad men. If
the nation at large has disposition enough for this
end, its form of government is, in my opinion, fully
sufficient for it ; but if the general disposition be
against a virtuous and manly line of public conduct,
there is no form into which it can be thrown that 'will
improve its nature or add to its energy. I know that
many gentlemen, in other parts of the kingdom, think
it practicable to make the remedy of our public dis-
orders attend on an alteration in our actual constitution :
and to bring about the former, as a consequence of
the latter. But I believe that no people, who could
think of deferring the redress of such grievances as
ours, and the animadversion on such palpable mis-
conduct as there has been lately in our affairs, until
the material alterations in the constitution which they
propose can be brought about, will ever do any mighty
matter, even if they should find themselves able to
carry them.

As to myself, I am come to no resolution relative
to my making one in the consultation of these matters.
I believe that, without much intrigue, I might contrive
to come into parliament through some door or other.
But when I consider, on one hand, the power and
prostitution of the faction which has long domineered,
and does still domineer in this country ; and, on the
other, the strange distraction, not only in interests,
but in views and plans of conduct, that prevails

1780] TO JOSEPH HARFORD 237

among those who oppose that faction, I do something
more than hesitate about the wisdom and propriety
of my making one in this general scene of confusion.
I will say nothing about that tail which draggles in
the dirt, and which every party in every state must
carry about it. That can only flirt a little of the
mud in our faces now and then ; it is no great matter :
but some of our capital men entertain thoughts so
very different from mine, that if I come into parliament,
I must either fly in the face of the clearest lights of
my own understanding, and the firmest conviction of
my own conscience, or I must oppose those for whom
I have the highest value. The Duke of Richmond
has voluntarily proposed to open the elections of
England to an those, without exception, who have
the qualification of being eighteen years old ; and has
swept away at one stroke all the privileges of free-
holders, cities, and boroughs, throughout the kingdom ;
and sends every member of parliament, every year,
to the judgement and discretion of such electors.
Sir George Savile has consented to adopt the scheme of
more frequent elections, as a remedy for disorders which,
in my opinion, have a great part of their root in
elections themselves ; and while the Duke of Richmond
proposes to annihilate the freeholders, Sir George Savile
consents to a plan for a vast increase of their power, by
choice of a hundred new knights of the shire. Which
of these am I to adhere to ? Or shall I put myself
into the graceful situation of opposing both 2 If I am
asked who the Duke of Richmond and Sir George Savile
are, and what is my own inward opinion of them, I must
fairly say, that I look upon them to be the first men
of their age and their country, that I do not know
men of more parts or more honour. Of the latter, you
remember what I said, in the Guildhall ; and I cannot
retract a word of it.

In this situation, with regard to those whom
I esteem the most, how shall I act with those for
whom I have no esteem at all ? Such there are ;
not only in the ministry, but in the opposition.

238 EDMUND BURKE [1780

There is, indeed, the Marquis of Rockingham, and
there are some more, with whom I do not think
I differ materially ; but I am quite certain that,
though they make our greatest number, yefc it is
a number by no means sufficient, with any effect,
to oppose the court, with the little or no aid we
have from the people. These are my thoughts, or
rather a very small part of the inducements which
make me content, I had almost said desirous, of
continuing where the larger part of our city was of
opinion I ought to continue.

On recollection, I have perhaps gone further than
I intended, on the subject of my difference with my
friends ; and since I have troubled you with so long
a letter, I ought to take the benefit of your present
patience, and explain myself a little.

As to the shortening of the duration of parliaments,
I confess I see no cause to change, or to modify, my
opinion on that subject. The reason remains the
same. The desires of the people go along with the
reason of the thing. I do not know anything more
practically unpopular. It is true that many people
are fond of talking on short parliaments, as a subject
of ingenuity; and they will come to resolutions on
the point, if any one wishes that they should. But
when they come to the touchstone, to the election
itself, they vomit up all these notions. You have,
I dare say, remarked that (except in one place only)
not one candidate has ventured in an advertisement, or
in a declaration from the hustings, to say one syllable
on the subject of short parliaments, nor has any one
elector thought proper to propose a test, or to give an
instruction, or even the slightest recommendation of
such a measure. You know how every one in Bristol
feels on that matter ; and I have reason to be persuaded
that they do not at all differ from the majority of the
kingdom,

As to some remedy to the present state of the
representation, I do by no means object to it. But
it is an affair of great difficulty, and to be touched

1780] TO JOSEPH HARFORD 239

with great delicacy, and by a hand of great power.
I do not hesitate to say, it cannot be done. By power,
I mean the executive power of the kingdom. It is
(according to my ideas of such a reformation) a thing
in which the executive government is more concerned
(in all matters of detail it is much concerned) than it
is in short parliaments ; and I know that, in business
of this sort, if administration does not concur, they
are able to defeat the scheme, even though it should
be carried by a majority in parliament, and not only
to defeat it, but to render it in a short time odious
and contemptible. The people show no disposition to
exert themselves for putting power into the hands of
those from whom they expect the performance of
tasks that require a great deal of strength, and that
too, a strength regular, systematic, and progressive.
If they can find none to trust, there is an end of this,
and of all questions of reformation.

Before I finished the first sheet of this, I received
your letter, and I thank you heartily for it. I am
extremely pleased with the turn that things have
taken in Somersetshire, and that solely on account
of Coxe ; for, as to Mr. Trevelyan, I am not quite
certain about his disposition. I find too, with at least
as much satisfaction, that you and our friends agree
with me about the constitution of our club, and the
spirit in which it ought to proceed. Hereafter, and
when we have fully cut off treachery, all our measures
ought to be healing ; no revenge, and no reproach.

You see in what a way Westminster was carried.
There is in that city a sort of Whigs perfectly resembling
the corrupt part of ours, and who would have done
just as much mischief, if they had been under any head.
Fortunately they were not ; and, therefore, instead of
being detrimental to the cause, their activity rendered
them very useful.

Give my most affectionate compliments to all our
friends. I hope to hear that Noble is quite well again.
He deserves to be so on all accounts. Remember me
and my brother (whom I left in town behind me) to

240 EDMUND BURKE [1781

Mrs. Harford and the young ladies, and to Mrs. Hill.
When you write to Warrington, do not forget me there.
Believe me always, and with unalterable regard,

My dear sir,

Your most faithful and obedient
humble servant,

EBM. BUBKE.

BUBKE, ESQ., TO SIB THOMAS
BUMBOLD, BABT.

Charles Street, Friday, March 23, 1781.
SIB,

I am honoured with your letter and the inclosures
which I received on my return very late on Wednesday
night. My attendance on the Bengal Committee and
at the House has not left me sufficient leisure to thank
you for your communication until this instant. Even
now, I doubt, I shall not have time to explain myself
so clearly and fully as I could wish to do, on the
important matter you have done me the honour to
lay before me.

The high opinion which, in common with the rest
of the world, I entertain of Sir Hector Monro, gives,
in my mind, very great weight to his testimony in
your favour. The regard too, which I have long since
felt for yourself, would naturally incline me to wish
that everything in your conduct, during your govern-
ment, may be found perfectly honourable to you.
I am sensible that the state into which the country,
where you presided, has been brought by a long train
of ill-policy, has made all your proceedings there very
delicate and critical ; and I am as much disposed, as
any man can be, to allow for several errors that are
almost unavoidable in that very difficult and embar-
rassed situation.

Not to engage rashly in wars with the powers of
the country, is, in my eyes, an eminent degree of merit
in an East India governor ; and I am sincerely
persuaded, that your keeping out of them was an act

1781] TO SIR THOMAS KUMBOLD 241

purely voluntary. I feel, as a member of this com-
munity, and as a member of the community of mankind
at large, your merit in discountenancing, as I under-
stand you have done, the present ruinous Mahratta
war ; and I shall ever acknowledge it as a public
service. In condemning the perverse policy which led
to that war, and which, before, had given rise to the
still less justifiable war against the Rohillas, I do not
speak from the smallest degree of prejudice or personal
animosity against the respectable person x (for such,
in many respects, he undoubtedly is,) who was so
unhappy as to be the author of both these measures.
I rather gave him my little voice as long as I thought
it justifiable to afford him the smallest degree of
support* I was always an admirer of his talents, and
the farthest in the world from being engaged in a faction
against him. I assure you, sir, with great truth, that
I am also very far from a connexion with any personal
enemies of yours, if such you have ; and that, in
general, I am one of the latest and most reluctant in
imputing blame to gentlemen who serve their country
in distant and arduous situations.

But since your letter not only permits, but, in
a manner, calls upon me to deliver my opinion to
you upon affairs of no trivial consequence, you will
naturally excuse the liberty I shall take of laying
open to you with plainness and sincerity, my thoughts
on some late proceedings at Madras.

I have invariably considered the plan of amassing
a great body of power in the hands of one of the
potentates of the country of India, by the destruction
of all the original governments about him, as very
ill-conceived in the design, very pernicious during the
execution, and perfectly ruinous in the consequences*
This from the beginning appeared to me very clear
in the theory, and every step towards the practice has
more and more confirmed me in that persuasion.

I consider it also as very ill policy to set up a power
of our own creating, and intrinsically dependent, in
1 Warren Hastings.

242 EDMUND BURKE [1781

a state of fictitious independency ; and not only of
independency, but superiority: that wars might be
carried on, and great depredations committed in his
name, which, in the real acting parties, could scarcely
escape the strictest animadversion.

Looking, as I did, upon every new pretension, and
every new subject of discussion, as a means of new
abuse of all kinds, I could not help viewing all en-
couragement to an attempt for unsettling the succession
of the ruling families in India in their lawful heirs,
a succession recognized and settled by treaties and
solemn acts, as a measure of a very pernicious
tendency : first, to the people, who would be infinitely
exhausted by the support of a party, and a force to
support this subversion of the regular order of succes-
sion ; and, next, to the family itself, which, sooner or
later, must be extinguished by its dissensions.

Having these and other motives, all originating from
the same principles, deeply and firmly rooted in my
mind, you will easily see that it cannot arise from the
smallest desire of finding fault with any acts in which
you have had a share, that I have hesitated about the
propriety of a great variety of things lately done or
permitted at Madras, as continuing and enforcing the
plan of mistaken policy so long predominant there,
and aggravating all the unhappy effects of it.

I am unable to regard the acquisition of territory
to the company as matter of merit, until I find that,
in some one instance, the condition of the inhabitants
has been improved by the revolution, or that the
affairs of this kingdom have derived some benefit
from it. For, unfortunately, in proportion to our
acquisitions, both in Bengal and in the Deccan, we
find the country infinitely injured ; and the treasures
and revenues, both of the company and the subordinate
powers, wasted and decayed.

The acquisition, therefore, of the Gentoo Circar,
seemed to me exactly like the rest of our late acquisi-
tions* I thought neither better nor worse of it, than
our acquisition of the country of the Rohillas, or the

1781] TO SIR THOMAS RUMBOLD 243

revenues of Oude. But when I found that this territory
was no sooner acquired, than it was delivered over to
the barbarians, and that the whole of that unfortunate
people were (as so many others had been) farmed out
as cattle, to the second son of the Nabob of Arcot, it
seemed to me very evident, that, as long as such an
arrangement was tolerated, the natives were put out
of the reach of the protection of this kingdom. In
that light I could not consider the whole of that
transaction, without great doubt concerning the
propriety of it in every point of view.

The farming the Jaghire lands to the Nabob, or
rather, in substance and effect, to the same second
son, a person (to speak the best of him) of very
doubtful fidelity to this nation, appeared to me
a measure of the same tendency. The original short
tenure was undoubtedly too much ; and the resumption,
and not the enlarging it, would be the plain dictate of
humanity and good policy. By these measures, and
by others of the same nature and operation, we have
not a foot of land, through an immense region, which
we can properly call our own ; or in which we possess
the ordinary means of protecting the people, or
redressing their grievances, if ever we should become
wise enough to intend it.

Whatever other measures have been pursued in the
spirit of these, or which tend, by the oppression of the
native princes or people, to aggravate that evil of
usury natural to the country, but which is infinitely
extended and increased by uncertain demands and
unsettled claims, all these appear to me equally
exceptionable.

My proceedings in the India House relative to
Mr. Benfield, will explain to you in what manner
I think myself obliged to consider them. How far
gentlemen acting in India- are excusable on account
of the false systems, or variable systems, which have
been prevalent at home, for the mistakes of tho^e
employed abroad, I am unable to determine. No man
will be more inclined to allow for them than I shall ;

244 EDMUND BUKKE [1781

and I never will readily hear of laying on one man,
that blame which ought to Me on many, if really there
should be found any matter of blame at all.

I am more engaged than I can well describe to you,
with various kinds of business. But whenever we
have both a moment's leisure, I shall be happy to
converse with you on this business or any other;
though, to speak after my manner, I do not choose,
privately, to discuss matters with gentlemen, with
whom I may find myself obliged afterwards to differ
in public. It might give me advantages, which it
would be impossiWe not to profit of, in some way or
other, to their prejudice ; and that, whether I would
or not. To know any man's story that you cannot
agree with, is not pleasant.

I have the honour to be, sir,
Your most obedient and humble servant,
EDM. BURKE.

EIGHT HOK. EDMUND BUBKE, TO WILLIAM
BURKE, ESQ.

(At Madras)

April 24, 1782.

MY DEAR MY EVER DEAR PRIEND,

Why were you not here to enjoy and to partake in
this great, and I trust for the country, happy change ?
Be assured, that in the Indian arrangements, wMch
I believe will take place, you will not be forgotten, at
least I hope not. King gives you a list. I have kissed
hands, and gone through all ceremonies. The office is
to be 4,000 certain. Young Kichard is the deputy,
with a salary of 500. The office to be reformed
according to the bill. There is enough of emoluments.
In decency it could not be more. Something consider-
able is also to be secured for the life of young Richard,
to be a security for him and his mother. My brother
is deep on the western circuit, where he has got full
as much credit in one or two causes, as he could, or

1782] TO WILLIAM BURKE 245

any man could get. It has been followed with, no
proportionable profit. He has now before him the
option of the secretaryship of the treasury, with
precedence in the office. Many people think the figure
he has made in his profession, in one cause in the
King's Bench, in one upon the circuit, and in one
in a committee of the House of Commons, in which
he threw out John Macpherson, ought to oblige Mm
to pursue that line, to which, if he accepts the secretary-
ship, he can never return, in case of a change that may
deprive him of his office. He is not in town, no more
than the other Richard, who is in the remotest part
of the north. All my friends are absent at a moment
so important. Oh ' my dearest, oldest, best friend,
you are far off indeed I May God, of Ms infinite mercy,
preserve you ' Your enemies, your cruel and un-
provoked persecutors, are on the ground, suffering
the punishment, not of their villainy towards you, but
of their other crimes, which are innumerable. . . .
Resolutions will pass, after the holidays, to secure the
Rajah of Tanjore, and to limit the Nabob. Much
good will happen. Indeed, my dear friend, your
honest and humane labours have not been useless.
I shall think of Mr. Ross. I will write at large the
moment I have leisure. My best love to Staunton,
Boyd, and Dunkin. May God of Ms infinite mercy
return you to us, happy and prosperous, and above
all, speedily. Lord Shelburne has the correspondence
with the India princes. The company itself is properly
under the treasury. I should like that secretary Fox
had the correspondence. . . .

My dearest friend, we proceed as we began, in our
endeavours to reform the state. A contractors' bill
has passed the House of Commons. A bill for taking
away the votes of revenue officers has made a con-
siderable progress, and will also pass our House. The
great lines of my bill came down recommended by
a message from the Crown. I moved, as you will see,
the address* We proceed in the same prosperous
course in the India reformation. I told you before.

246 EDMUND BURKE [1782

that the Lord Advocate 1 continued in the same happy
train of thinking which your early impressions formed
him to. His speeches, as well as his resolutions relative
to Tanjore and the oppressions and usurpations of the
nabob, were such as if your own honest heart had
dictated them. He has not yet brought out the whole,
but he will bring forward such on Monday next, as
will free that unfortunate prince and harassed country
from the wicked usurpation of Mr. Hastings. Our
select committee has reported; and last night the
committee of the whole House has agreed to the
resolutions which General Smith, our chairman, moved
against Sullivan, Impey, and Hastings. We have
already had Sullivan two days under interrogatories
about the appointment of John Macpherson to the
supreme council. After shuffling and prevaricating,
he has at length taken refuge in refusing to give
answers which may tend to criminate himself. The
resolutions against Rumbold will be moved on Monday
next.

(The copy breaks off here.) ,

THE RIGHT HON. EDMTOD BTTEKE, TO PHTLIP
FBAJSTCIS, ESQ.

Beaconsfield, December 10, 1785.

I SHALL be happy to see you and Mr. Pox here any
day this week ; the sooner the better. I shall now
say a few words on the business part of our corre-
spondence. I entertained not the least doubt that
Mr. Fox would take his part in the Bengal question, 2
which must be brought on. He is certainly right :
we ought to be very careful not to charge what we

1 Henry Dundas, afterwards Viscount Melville.

2 The exhibition of articles of impeachment against
Warren Hastings; the first step towards which was
taken by Mr. Burke in the House of Commons, on the
17th of February, 1786, on a motion for papers, which
was carried.

1785] TO PHILIP FRANCIS 247

are unable to prove. I only think it odd, after all
that has passed, how he or anybody can make any
doubt of our exactness in this particular. If we
understand by proof, the establishment of fact by
evidence, agreeably to the nature of the transaction
and the principles of jurisprudence, I think we can be
under no difficulty. Most of the facts upon which we
proceed, are confessed ; some of them are boasted of.
The labour will be on the criminality of the facts ;
where proof, as I apprehend, will not be contested.
Guilt resides in the intention. But as we are before
a tribunal which, having conceived a favourable opinion
of Hastings, (or, what is of more moment, very favour-
able wishes for him,) they will not judge of his intentions
by the acts, but they will qualify his acts by the
presumed intentions. It is on this preposterous mode
of judging that he has built all the apologies for his
conduct which I have seen. Excuses, which in any
criminal court would be considered with pity, as the
straws at which poor wretches drowning will catch,
and which are such as no prosecutor thinks it worth
his while to reply to, will be admitted, in such a House
of Commons as ours, as a solid defence. Mere im-
pudence, which in all other cases would be thought
infinitely to aggravate guilt, will with us be considered
as the tone of innocence and conscious virtue. These
are difficulties not arising from the nature of our case,
but the circumstances of the time ; they are of a sort
that no care in the formation or execution of our plan
can possibly remove. And in my opinion, after making
these difficulties, to show that we are aware of them,
they ought to make no part of our consideration. We
know that we bring before a bribed tribunal a pre- judged
cause. In that situation, all that we have to do is,
to make a case strong in proof and in importance,
and to draw inferences from it, justifiable in Iogi6,
policy, and criminal justice. As to all the rest, it
is vain and idle.

Perhaps my plan may not be the best for drawing
in the greatest concurrence upon the vote, and making

248 EDMUND BURKE [1785

what is called a respectable minority. I should admit,
if there were a prospect of such a minority as is nearly
tantamount to a majority, and, in a second trial, is,
in a manner, sure to produce one, the plan ought to
have numbers in view as a principal consideration.
With such a prospect before you, it is very often
necessary to take away something from the force of
your charge, in order to secure its effect. In the
course of a long administration such as that of Mr. Hast-
ings, which has been co-existent with several adminis-
trations at home, it has happened that some are
involved with him in one sort of business, who stand
clear in others, in which again a different description
may feel themselves (or friends, who are as them-
selves,) directly or indirectly affected ; to say nothing
of the private favours which such multitudes have
received, (which makes, at once, Mr. Hastings' crime
and his indemnity,) and in which every party, without
distinction, is engaged, in one or other of its members.
Parties themselves have been so perfectly jumbled
and confounded, that it is morally impossible to find
any combination of them who can march with the
whole body in orderly array upon the expedition
before us. With other prospects than ours, I know
that we ought to exert all our dexterity in our selection,
and not to aim a shot at the hunted deer, except where
you are sure not to hit any other. This necessity
I have experienced and submitted to (as in common
sense I ought) in many instances. But all the reasons
for such a conduct failing here, I find myself not in
the least inclined to abandon any one solid ground of
charge which I have taken up in any report, speech,
or public proceeding whatsoever, or which I find
strongly marked in the records which I have by me.
My reason is this : A parliamentary criminal pro-
ceeding is not, in its nature, within the ordinary resort
of the law. Even in a temper less favourable to Indian
delinquency than what is now generally prevalent, the
people at large would not consider one or two acts,
however striking, perhaps not three or four, as sufficient

1785] TO PHILIP FRANCIS 249

to call forth the reserved justice of the state. I confess,
I partake myself so far of that coarse, vulgar equity,
that if I found the general tenor of a man's conduct
unexceptionable, I should hardly think the extreme
remedies fit to be resorted to, on account of some
wrong actions during many years' continuance in an
arduous command. Of this I am certain, that a general
evil intention, manifested through a long series and
a great variety of acts, ought to have much greater
weight with a public political tribunal, than such
detached and unrelated offences into which common
human infirmity has often betrayed the most splendid
characters in history. Such a series of offences, mani-
festing a corrupt, habitual evil intention, may be
produced ; and nothing but a series of such facts
can furnish, in my opinion, a satisfactory proof of it.

In that case, I am little disposed to weaken my
cause, in order to strengthen the importance of an
adequate support. Shall we abandon the substance
of our charge, (which is in the multitude and the
perseverance in offences,) to fall in with Lord Titius
or Mr. Caius, when Lord Titius or Mr. Caius are unable
to give us substantial aid in the few mutilated par-
ticulars they leave us to proceed upon ? Our friend,
you say, is to consult many. He who is to please
many in a business which in the first instance he
makes his own, may be in the right to do so, though
this perhaps is doubtful. But any man, whose only
object is to acquit himself properly, ought to abstain
from that general consultation, as from a poison.
Speaking for myself, my business is not to consider
what will convict Mr. Hastings, (a thing we all know
to be impracticable,) but what will acquit and justify
myself to those few persons, and to those distant
times, which may take a concern in these affairs
and in the actors in them. Those who may think
otherwise, may have (I ought to say, undoubtedly
have,) intentions as good as mine, and a judgement
much superior for the regulation of their own particular
conduct. It might not become a man, situated like

250 EDMUND BUBKE [1785

Mr. Fox, to moye without a considerable retinue.
He is in the right not to appear weak, if possible,
because the opinion of strength leads to further
strength; and without that strength, the manly
scheme of politics in which he is engaged can never
become prevalent. In a party light, and as a question
to draw numbers, whatever modification we may
bestow upon our motion, a worse cannot be chosen
out of the whole bundle of political measures. It is,
therefore, my opinion that the wisest course for
Mr. Fox to pursue is, not to consider it as such. But
as my intention is known and declared, and as I never
stated it to be conceived in concert with any one, he
will naturally support the question, as concurrent with
his own opinion, and with his own principles, and not
as a point he means to exert strength to carry ; for
this the known state of the country will be his justifi-
cation. Mr. Fox, with regard to himself, has nothing
at all to embarrass him in his business ; but, as he
means to call in the aid of other opinions, it is impossible
for us to blend ourselves with them. They will not
digest several very important matters, which you and
I may think essential. They who could wish that
nothing at all were done, will wish to have as little
done as can be. Do not we know that one or two,
otherwise cordially with us, are of the very party with
Mr. Hastings, and have publicly made Ms panegyric,
and would not suffer even a remedial act, which was
supposed to be grounded in some of its provisions on
his misconduct ? Do not we know that others, who
were so far deluded by those who every way betrayed
them, as in effect to renew the trust given to Mr. Hast-
ings, after they had accumulated materials for his
prosecution, will certainly advise a revision of those
matters which they have been at least induced to
tolerate ? If, therefore, we do not resolve (I mean,
if you and I dually do not resolve,) to consult only
the cause, and not the support, I pledge myself to
you that we shall neither have cause nor support.
Whereas, if the matter is planned and settled without

1785] TO PHILIP FRANCIS 251

them, only taking care that they are well instructed,
there are many things which they could never permit
in consultation, which in debate they must support, or
disgrace themselves for ever,

December 23, 1785.

I have sent you the first scene o the first act,
the Rohilla war. You will make it what it ought to
be. You will see my view in the manner of drawing
the articles ; that is, not only to state the fact, but
to assign the criminality, to fix the species of that
criminality, to mark its consequences, to anticipate
the defence, and to select such circumstances as lead
to presumptions of private corrupt views. By following
this method, our resolution (or articles of impeachment,
as they may turn out,) will convey a tolerably clear
historical state of the delinquencies, attending rather
to the connexion of things than the order of time.
They will, on this plan, likewise mark out the enormity
of the offence, and point to those particulars which
may interest the feelings of men, if any they have left ;
but without something of that kind I know nothing
can be done.

Do you want the blue quarto t If you do, I will
send it to you without delay, for I shall have no
occasion for it. I believe most of the particulars are
in the reports of the committee of secrecy. I never
read a transaction which contained such a number
and variety of misdemeanours. It is a fistulous sore
which runs into a hundred sinuosities. I am sure
there are more than I have stated ; but you are to
judge whether there be enough of them marked, as
you are of all the rest.

EDM.

252 EDMUND BURKE [1787

THE BIGHT HON. EDMUND BUHKE TO THE EIGHT
HOST. HEKBY DOTDAS

Gerard Street, March 25, 1787.
SIR,

I have the honour of transmitting to you the copies
of Mr. Anderson's and Mr. Middleton's letters to the
Court of Directors. Along with them I send you a copy
of my own letter to the chairman, in consequence of
this communication. You perceive the manner in
which Anderson fights off ; as to Hastings and the rest,
probably their answers are not yet received ; but when
they come, they will, I presume, be of the same evasive
nature with that of Anderson.

The business of the impeachment grows hourly to be
more and more critical to the House of Commons, and
to all the parties in it. Two things will be necessary,
a strong case and a full attendance. As to the former,
it will not be to the interest of justice, or any of those
concerned in our common cause, that, upon our nice
distinctions, any point strong in criminality and in
proof should be given up. It is upon this principle
that the charges must be drawn ; and if, upon submit-
ting them to common lawyers and civilians, the best we
can procure, it should be found that the impeachment
can be maintained on those points, I am sure that not
one vote in the House of Commons will be gained by
narrowing ground, whilst we should appear with a more
feeble and unimpressive cause than that which we are
entitled to on the original merits.

In order to bring about the great primary object of
a strong cause, the substance of the charge should be
either left to my own discretion, or, what I should like
much better, that we should find some way of pre-
viously settling the plan of conduct. It is but too
obvious, that a few words snatched behind the speaker's
chair, can never put things on a clear and decisive
footing. Public consultations on our legs in the House,
must be still more inoperative. This way of proceeding,

1787] TO HENRY DUNDAS 253

In our present situation, is neither right nor safe ; and
I, therefore, am obliged to call on you for a full hour's
uninterrupted conversation upon what is already done,
and what yet remains to do. The aspect of the House
of Commons is enough to satisfy me that very good
reasons may exist in your mind, why our conferences
on this subject should not be very frequent nor very
public. The time and place, therefore, you will settle
according to your own conveniency ; as to me, I have
no managements. If no arrangement can be made
with mutual concert, we shall be more distracted by
occasional agreement than by uniform difference. In
a situation like ours, a temporary confidence of
business and accommodation is necessary to people
otherwise adverse, who happen to coincide in some
one important point. Without such communication
I shall certainly proceed with firmness and consistency,
as far as my own judgement can serve for a guide ;
but I wish to clear myself of all part of the blame which
might hereafter be imputed to my pursuing a course
which any untoward event might denominate impru-
dent and unadvised.

As to the material point of numbers, means are
using on our side to call in as many as the lax discipline
of oppositions can secure. With regard to your side,
you will excuse the liberty I take, in suggesting that
the idea of wholly separating the man from the
minister, if carried substantially into effect, cannot fail
of being infinitely mischievous ; however, the internal
circumstances of administration may make some
appearance of that Mnd, and for some time expedient,
but it ought not to continue over long, or be at all
over done ; for if Mr. Pitt does not speedily himself
understand, and give others to understand, that Ms
personal reputation is committed in this business, as
manifestly it is, I am far from being able to answer
for the ultimate success, when I consider the constitu-
tion of the late minorities, combined with the political
description of the aJbsentees. But I think it, in a
manner, impossible that all this should not be felt by

254 EDMUND BURKE [1787

you and by Mr. Pitt. I shall, therefore, only take
leave to add, that if ever there was a common national
cause totally separated from party, it is this. A body
of men in close connexion of common guilt, and com-
mon apprehension of danger, with a strong and just
confidence of future power if they escape, with a degree
of wealth and influence which, perhaps, even yourself
have not calculated at anything like its just rate, is
not forming, but actually formed, in this country;
that this body is under Mr. Hastings as an Indian
leader, and will have very soon, if it has not already,
an English political leader too. This body, if they
should now obtain a triumph, will be too strong for
your ministry, or for any ministry. I go further, and
assert without the least shadow of hesitation, that it
will turn out too strong for any description of merely
natural interest that exists, or, on any probable specu-
lation, can exist in our times. Nothing can rescue the
country out of their hands, but our vigorous use of the
present fortunate moment, which, if once lost, is never
to be recovered, for breaking up this corrupt com-
bination, by effectually crushing the leader and princi-
pal members of the corps. The triumph of that faction
will not be over us, who are not the keepers of the
parliamentary force, but over you ; and it is not you
who will govern them, but they who will tyrannize
over you, and over the nation along with you. You
have vindictive people to deal with, and you have gone
too far to be forgiven. I do not know whether, setting
aside the justice and honour of the nation, deeply in-
volved in this business, you will think the political
hints I have given you to be of importance. You who
hold power, and are likely to hold it, are much more
concerned in that question than I am, or can be.
I have the honour to be, *

&c. ? &c.

1788] TO CHARLES JAMES FOX 255

EIGHT HON. EDMUND BTJBKE TO THE EIGHT HON.
CHARLES JAMES Fox

[The latter end of November, 1788. 1 ]
MY DEAR Fox>

If I have not been to see you before this time, it
was not owing to my not having missed you in your
absence, or my not having much rejoiced in your
return. But I know that you are indifferent to every-
thing in friendship but the substance ; and all pro-
ceedings of ceremony have for many years been out of
the question between you and me. When you wish to
see me, say as much to my son, or my brother, and
I shall be in town in a few hours after I hear from
them. I mean to continue here until you call on me ;
and I find myself perfectly easy, from the implicit
confidence that I have in you and the Duke, and the
certainty I am in, that you two will do the best for
the general advantage of the cause, and for your own
and our common reputation. In that state of mind
I feel no desire whatsoever of interfering, especially as
too great an infusion of various and heterogeneous
opinions may embarrass that decision, which it seems
to me so necessary that you should come to, and for
which I do not think a great deal of time is allowed
you. Perhaps it is not your interest that this state of
things should continue long, even supposing that the
exigencies of government would suffer it to remain
on its present footing. But I speak without book.
I remember a story of Fitzpatrick in his American
campaign, that he used to say to the officers who were
in the same tent before they were up, that the only
meals they had to- consider how they were to procure
for that day, were breakfast, dinner, and supper. I am
worse off, for there are five meals necessary, and I do

1 Mr. Fox was in Italy when he was informed of the
king's illness, and the probable necessity for the appoint-
ment of a Begency. He immediately set off on his return
to England.

256 EDMUND BURKE [1788

/

not know at present how to feel secure of one of them,
the king, the prince, the lords, the commons, and
the people. As to the first, the physicians, whose
report is to settle the state, and who are now, therefore,
the men in power, what answer they will give to
interrogatories, as to the nature and probable duration
of the king's complaint, the probability of cure, the
danger of relapse upon apparent recovery, and the
like, I am utterly a stranger to all this. But it is not
right vou should be long so, for much will hinge on it.
It is fit that you should be thoroughly acquainted with
their answers, which can be only had by a previous
, examination. The ministers have probably taken
these opinions. The prince, in a matter so interesting
to himself, politically, personally, and now as the head
of the royal family, has full as good a right to these
opinions as these gentlemen can pretend to ; and
nothing can make it improper for Mm to have them
taken before such persons of weight and consequence
in the country as he may choose to call in. I think it
will be a crude business, that their first examination
should be at the bar of the House of Lords, or House of
Commons. Examined they must be before we can take
any step, whether we can confide this examination
to a committee of both houses, or whether we ought,
or not, to have a committee of actual inspection, is
for you to consider. The great point is, in my opinion,
not to let the ministers take the lead in the settlement.
They are men, undoubtedly, in legal situations of trust,
to perform such functions as can be performed in office
without resort to the Crown; but the king's confi-
dential servants they certainly are not : and not only
the rights of other members are on a par with theirs,
but all ideas of decorum, and pre-audience, on the
subject of the king, are out of the question. I mention
this to you, not as supposing that you and the rest of
our friends are not aware of it, but from my having
observed, when I was in town, that the ministers were
talked of as if things were in their ordinary course ;
and, our language guiding and not following our ideas

1788] TO CHARLES JAMES FOX 25?

on this occasion, it was supposed that both the com-
munication of the state of the king's health, and the
propositions in consequence of it, were to be expected
from them. This is an inter-regnum ; and the suffering
of the office people to be considered as persons to whose
wisdom the Government is to look for its future form,
may be neither quite reputable or altogether advan-
tageous to you. Might it not be better for the prince,
at once to assure himself, to communicate the king's
melancholy state by a message to the two Houses, and
to desire their counsel and support in such an exi-
gency ? It would put him forward with advantage in
the eyes of the people ; it would teach them to look
on him with respect, as a person possessed of the spirit
of command ; and it would, I am persuaded, stifle an
hundred cabals, both in parliament and elsewhere, in
their very cradle, which would, if they were cherished
by his apparent remissness and indecision, produce to
Mm a vexatious and disgraceful regency and reign.
But I am going farther than I intended. God bless
you. There is a good deal to be done for your security
and credit, supposing the prince's dispositions to you
to be all they are represented ; and that I believe them
to be. Your business formerly was only to take care
of your own honour. I hope you have now another
trust. It is a great deal that the proscription is taken
off ; but, at the same time, the effects of twenty-eight
years of systematic endeavours to destroy you, cannot
be done away with ease. You are to act a great, and
though not a discouraging, a difficult part ; and in
a scene which is wholly new. If you cannot succeed
in it, the thing is desperate. Adieu !

Yours ever,
EDM. BUBKE.

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BUBKE TO WILLIAM
WnsTDHAM, ESQ.

BmconsfieLd, January 24, 1789.
I STAYED at Brooks' on Tuesday night, in hopes of
seeing you, until after twelve. I had a good deal of

237

258 EDMUND BURKE [1789

discourse with Pelham, 1 who gave me leave to flatter
myself that you and he might dine with me, and pass
a night here, between this and Monday. We have
means of feeding you, though without our cook, but
the dairy-maid is not a bad hand at a pinch ; and we
have just killed a sheep, which, though large and fat,
is. I believe, full six years old, and very fine meat.
I have already, I think, received some small benefit to
my health by coming into the country ; but this view
to health, though far from unnecessary to me, was not
the chief cause of my. present retreat. I began to find
that I had grown rather too anxious ; and had begun
to discover to myself and to others a solicitude relative
to the present state of affairs, which, though their
strange condition might well warrant it in others, is
certainly less suitable to my time of life, an which all
emotions are less allowed ; and to which, most cer-
tainly, all human concerns ought in reason to become
more indifferent, than to those who have work to do,
and a good deal of day, and of inexhausted strength
to do it in. I sincerely wish to withdraw myself from
this scene for good and all ; but, unluckily, the India
business binds me in point of honour; and, whilst
I am waiting for that, comes across another of a kind
totally different from any that has hitherto been seen
in this country, and which has been attended with
consequences very different from those which ought to
have been expected in this country, or in any country,
from such an event. It is true I had been taught by
some late proceedings, and by the character of the
person principally concerned, to look for something
extraordinary. With a strong sense of this, my
opinion was that the prince ought to have done what
has been said it was his right to do ; and which might
have been as safely done as was unsafely said. He
ought himself to have gone down to the House of Lords,
and to them by himself, and to the House of Commons
by message* to have communicated the king's condition,
1 Probably the Hon. Thomas Pelham, afterwards Earl
of Ghiehester.

1789] TO WILLIAM WINDHAM 259

and to have desired the advice and assistance of the
two Houses. His friends would then have been the
'proposers, and his enemies the opposers, which would
have been a great advantage. The proceedings in
council ought also to have originated from him ;
whereas we admitted the official ministers as the king's
confidential servants, when he had no confidence to
give. The plans originated from them. We satisfied
ourselves with the place of objectors and opposers,
a weak post always ; and we went out with the spirit
(if it may be so called) of inferiority, and of a mere
common opposition, with the Prince of Wales, Begent
in designation, and future King, at our head ; he
unable to support us, and we unable to support Mm.
Though I went to town strongly impressed with this
idea, which I stated to Fox, when I saw him in his
bed, and to others, it met so ill a reception from all to
whom I mentioned it, and it seemed then a matter of
course, that the men who remained in place, (as Pitt
and the chancellor did,) without character or efficiency
in law, were under an exclusive obligation to take the
lead ; and some were of opinion that they ought to be
called upon and stimulated to the production of their
plans, I was really overborne with this, I may say,
almost universal, conceit ; so much so, that I gave
over pressing my own, and wrote to my brother then
here, that I found it necessary to give it up, and even
to change it ; and on this he wrote me a strong re-
monstrance. Afterwards I was little consulted. This
error of ours (if such it was) is fundamental, and
perhaps the cause of all our subsequent disasters.
I don't trouble you with these remarks as complaining
of what was done, or as laying too much weight on my
first opinions. In truth, things have turned out so
contrary to all my rational speculation in several
instances, that I dare not be very positive in what
appears to me most advisable, nor am I at all disposed
very severely to censure the proceedings most adverse
to my own ideas. I throw out these things to you, and
wish to put you in possession of my thoughts, that, if

260 EDMUND BURKE [1789

they meet with a reception in your mind, you may
urge them in time and place with a force which, for
many reasons, (perhaps some of personal fault, or
defect, or excess in myself, but most certainly from
a sort of habit of having what I suggest go for nothing, )
I can no more hope for. I look back to anything that
has been done or omitted, for no other purpose than
to guide our proeeedings in future. In the first place
I observe, that though there have been a very few
consultations upon particular measures, there have
been none at all de summa rerum. It has never been
discussed, whether, all things taken together, in our
present situation, it would not be the best or least
evil course, for the public and the prince, and possibly,
in the end, for the party, that the prince should
surrender himself to his enemies and ours. Of one
thing I am quite certain, that if the two Houses,
animated by a number of addresses to the prince and
of instructions to the members, should be bold enough
to reserve all their pretended principles, (as in case of
such addresses and instructions they certainly will do,)
and demand of the prince-regent to keep in these
ministers, I believe it will be found very difficult, if
not absolutely impossible, to resist such a requisition.
It has always hitherto been thought wise, rather, to
foresee such an extremity, and to act in the foresight,
than to submit to it when it happens ; to make peace
whilst there is some faint appearance of choice left
on the subject, has hitherto been the policy. If that
surrender should be thought necessary, then it will be
for the consideration of our friends, how to do it in the
manner most honourable to themselves, and the best
fitted to make an impression on the public ; and this,
I think, would best be done in the way of a ^strong,
well-reasoned memorial on the subject, advising the
prince, for the sake of the public tranquillity, and to
prevent further outrages on the constitution, to yield
to the present exigence, thanking him for the justice
he was willing to do to the king's subjects, and for his
equity in delaying so long to yield to so wicked a

1789] TO WILLIAM WIKDHAM 261

proscription as that projected. This, in my poor
judgement, ought to be signed by all the lords and
commoners amongst us, and possibly by other notables
in the country ; and then, without a formal secession,
to absent ourselves from Parliament until favourable
circumstances should call us to it. I am far from
being certain that this method (this of yielding,) would
not be the best, considering who the prince is, and
who, and of what stuff, we are. But if we choose the
other way, which is, at all events, to fight it out
against a majority in the two Houses, and a very great,
bold, and active party without doors, making, for aught
I know, the majority of the nation, then I am sure we
ought to prepare ourselves for such a combat in a
different manner, and to act in it with a very different
spirit from anything which has ever yet appeared
amongst us. In the first place we ought to change
that tone of calm reasoning which certainly does not
belong to great and affecting interests, and which has
no effect, but to chill and discourage those upon whose
active exertions we must depend much more than on
their cold judgement. Our style of argument, so very
different from that by which Lord North was run down,
has another ill-effect. I know it increases the boldness
of some of those who are thus bold, less from the
courage of their original temperament than from the
air of inferiority, debasement, and dejection, raider
which we have appeared for some years past. In
daring everything they see they risk nothing. Far
from apprehending any mischief from our future just
resentment, they are not troubled with any degree of
present disgrace, or even with a hard word, or a
reflection on their character, two or three trifling
instances excepted. I suppose a more excellent speech
than Fox's last has never been delivered in any House
of Parliament ; full of weighty argument, eloquently
enforced, and richly, though soberly, decorated. But
we must all be sensible that it was a speech which
might be spoken upon an important difference between
the best friends, and where the parties had the very

262 EDMUND BUKKE [1789

best opinion of each other's general intentions for the
public good. Mr. Pitt commended, as he had reason
to do, the singular moderation of a speech Mr. Fox
had made before, with an oblique reflection on those
who had debated in another manner. If a foreseen
coalition with Mr. Pitt should make this style of debate
advisable for Mr. Fox, the word ought to be given to
others, who may bring much mischief on themselves,
when such a coalition shall be made, for having spoken
of Mr. Pitt's conduct as highly corrupt, factious, and
criminal ; and, in the meantime, they may be con-
sidered as hot and intemperate zealots of a party, with
the main springs of whose politics they are not ac-
quainted, so far as to the general style of debate.
I will trouble you, on this point, with a word on the
use he may make of the degree of strength we possess
in both Houses : We are a minority ; but then we
are a very large minority; and I never knew an
instance in which such numbers did not keep a majority
in considerable awe. This was the case in a parliament
of recognized authority. But, in the present case, it
is universally admitted that the acts of the two Houses
are not legal, but to be legalized hereafter, and that
our proceedings are not founded upon anything but
necessity. The submission, therefore, of the smaller
number to the greater, is a mere voluntary act, and not
an acquiescence in a legal decision. I see no sort of
reason to hinder us from protesting on the journals ;
or if they prevent us from that, from publishing
strong manifestoes signed with our names. Our con-
duct cannot be more irregular than theirs. If it is
objected, that this principle might lead us a great deal
farther, I confess it ; but then, their principle would
lead them farther too ; and they have, in fact, gone
to ten times worse and more serious lengths against
the substance and the solid maxims of our Government,
than we can be suspected of going, who, should we
take the steps I suggest, only trespass against form
and decorum. But whilst they neither attend to form
or to substance, and we are -the slaves of form, it is

1789] TO WILLIAM WINDHAM 263

self-evident that we do not engage upon equal terms.
I do not dwell upon this point so much for the sake of
this measure, (which I wish rather we did not think
forbidden than that I pressingly recommend,) but for
another and more serious reason. When I consider
the change of Mr. Pitt's language, I am convinced that
an intention is entertained of addressing the prince to
keep him in power. To the last day's debate, he
constantly spoke of himself as virtually out of place,
and of Mr. Fox as minister in certain designation.
That day he totally changed his note. His friend
Mr. Rolle had arrived with his address from Devonshire.
Are any on our part to advise the prince not to comply
with that address ? Or are we to consider ourselves
as bound by the faith which Mr. Sheridan has held on
the part of the prince, that he will comply with the
requisition of the House of Commons ? To what to
attribute the two voluntary declarations made by
Sheridan on that subject, especially the last. I am
wholly at a loss. If the prince has authorized him to
speak in this manner, all that I have said or have to say,
on this side of the alternative, is vain and useless. We
must submit, and there is an end of it. Even without
this declaration, the difficulty in opposing such an
address, though from an House framed on principles
directly contradictory to these addresses, would be
very great. I should contend as much as any one,
perhaps more, for the constitutional propriety of the
king's submitting, in every part of his executive
Government, to the advice of Parliament. Bat this,
like every other principle, can bear a practical super-
structure of only a certain weight. If the two Houses,
without any sort of reason, merely from faction and
caprice, should attempt to arrogate to themselves,
under the name of advice, the whole power and
authority of the Crown, the monarchy would be a
useless incumbrance on the country, if it were not able
to make a stand against such attempts. If, then, such
a sband is to be made, my opinion is, first, that the
way ought to be prepared for it, by a previous strong

264 EDMUND BURKE [1789

remonstrance to the House of Commons from West-
minster, against their whole proceedings. I am told
we may depend upon Westminster. If we may, then
I think it, from its vicinity, and the habitation in it of
so many people from all parts of the kingdom (which
make it a sort of general representative of the whole),
of more importance than any other whatsoever, if
properly used, and if the means are taken, which were
taken, on the accession of the present royal family, by
the Duke of Newcastle and others, to keep up and
direct a spirit capable of seconding their petitions and
addresses. I am not, in general, very fond of these
things ; but on occasions they must be used, and
I hope they are not among the artes perditae. They
have the monied interest ; let us use the interest of
those whose property is their freedom. Other places
will probably follow ; but, so far as I can discern, no
attempt has yet been made to do more than merely to
prevent the corporations, or people, from appearing
against us, Bristol excepted, where my brother and
his friends in the corporation attempted more, but did
not succeed. I should recommend that the same
should be attempted where it might be more likely to
succeed ; but what I contend for in all these attempts
is, that we should not at all hold ourselves on the
defensive ; a part which, in such affairs as these, has
never failed to bring ruin on those who have chosen to
occupy it. The people, to be animated, must seem to
have some motive to action ; and accusation has more
to engage their attention than apology, which always
implies at least a possibility of guilt ; it is something
abject at best. In order to prevent where we can do
no better, or to act where we can act, I am clear that
none but a corps of observation ought to attend
Parliament. We ought to give over all thoughts of
division ; and the members who have any interest
ought to be sent down to their several districts. It
was the present Mng and the present ministers who have
made, and who continue, this parliament out of doors.
It is now fixed, and it is for us to take our advantage

1789] TO WILLIAM WINDHAM 265

of the actual state of the country, which is to the best
of their power employed against us ; at least, until we
shall be furnished with the means of establishing the
constitutional bodies of the kingdom in the degree of
sober independence, and decent respect, which they
ought to enjoy. Whilst these and other obvious
measures are going on abroad, the great security for
their success, or the great remedy for their failure, is
in the conduct of the prince himself. On that more
depends than on all the rest. All his actions, and all
his declarations, ought to be regular, and the conse-
quences of a plan ; and if he refuses to comply with
the addresses, he ought, once for all, to give them an
answer, which should be as much reasoned as his
situation will admit, and which will serve for a mani-
festo. All his written proceedings must be so many
manifestoes ; for he will not be in government by
being appointed regent, but only in a situation to
contend for it. Dead, cold, formal pieces, containing
no sentiment to interest the feelings, and no animated
argument to go to the understanding, may serve well
enough when power is secure and able to stand on its
own foundations ; but in this precarious show of
government, a party must be made, and it must be
made as parties are formed in other cases. There is
not one rule, principle, or maxim, of a settled govern-
ment that would be useful to us, that of general good
conduct excepted. That which I should chiefly rely
upon, in all these manifestoes, is a sentiment of dignity
and independence, and an indifference to the object
unless it can be held on those terms. If this, indeed, be
no 5 supported by a degree of courage, either natural or
infused, and a real resolution rather to forfeit every-
thing than his own honour, and the safety of those
embarked with him in the same bottom, to be sure,
such a style of speaking would be unsuitable and
mischievous j but if the conduct and declarations are
of a piece, I think they can hardly fail of success in the
end ; I say in the end, for we deceive ourselves woefully
if we are not at the very opening of a dreadful struggle.

266 EDMUND BURKE [1789

All these and everything else, however, depend upon
that ; which if nobody has spirit and integrity enough
to inculcate into the prince, he is, and we are, ruined.
He must marry into one of the sovereign houses of
Europe. Till then he will be liable to every suspicion,
and to daily insult. He will not be considered as one
of the corps of princes, nor aggregated to that body,
which people here, more even than in other countries,
are made to look at with respect. There must be
a queen for the women, or a person to represent one,
else this queen will have them all. I say this inde-
pendently of the suggestion concerning Mrs. Fitz-
herbert, which I know to have great weight, and
much the greatest in the extremities of the kingdom.
No king in Europe, who is not married, or has not
been so : no prince appears settled, unless he puts
himself into the situation of the father of a family.

I began this with a notion that I could bring all
I had to say into a few short heads ; but I have been
drawn into a length that I did not expect. One thing
or other has taken me off ; so that I must deliver
myself the letter which I thought was to bring you
hither. Perhaps what I have thrown down is of little
moment ; at any rate it is in safe hands, it is in the
hands of one who will pardon and will conceal my
weakness. Adieu,

And believe me ever, bincerely and

affectionately, yours,
EDM. BUBKE.

THE RIGHT HOK. EDMUND BURKE TO MONS.
DUPONT

October, 1789.
DIAB SIB,

We are extremely happy in your giving us leave to
promise ourselves a renewal of the pleasure we formerly
had in your company at Beaconsfield and in London.
It was too lively to be speedily forgotten on our part ;
and we are highly flattered to find that you keep so
exactly in your memory all the particulars of the few

1789] TO MONS. DUPONT 267

attentions which you were so good to accept from us
during your stay in England. We indulge ourselves in
the hope that you will be able to execute what you
intend in ^our favour ; and that we shall be more
fortunate in the coming spring, than we were in the
last.

You have reason to imagine that I have not been
as early as I ought,, in acquainting you with my
thankful acceptance of the correspondence you have
been pleased to offer. Do not think me insensible to
the honour you have done me. I confess I did hesitate
for a time, on a doubt, whether it would be prudent to
yield to my earnest desire of such a correspondence.

Your frank and ingenuous manner of writing would
be ill answered by a cold, dry, and guarded reserve on
my part. It would, indeed, be adverse to my habits
and my nature, to make use of that sort of caution in
my intercourse with any friend. Besides, as you are
pleased to think that your splendid flame of liberty
was first Hghted up at my faint and glimmering taper,
I thought you had a right to call upon me for my
undisguised sentiments on whatever related to that
subject. On the other hand, I was not without appre-
hension, that in this free mode of intercourse I might
say something, not only disagreeable to your formed
opinions upon points on which, of all others, we are
most impatient of contradiction, but not pleasing to
the power which should happen to be prevalent at the
time of your receiving my letter. I was well aware
that, in seasons of jealousy, suspicion is vigilant and
active ; that it is not extremely scrupulous in its means
of inquiry ; not perfectly equitable in its judgements ;
and not altogether deliberate in its resolutions. In the
ill-connected arid inconclusive logic of the passions,
whatever may appear blameable is easily transferred
from the guilty writer to the innocent receiver. It is an
awkward as well as unpleasant accident ; but it is one
that has sometimes happened. A man may be made
a martyr to tenets the most opposite to his own. At
length a friend of mine, lately come from Paris,

268 EDMUND BURKE [1789

informed me that heats are beginning to abate, and
that intercourse is thought to be more safe. This has
given me some courage ; and the reflection that the
sentiments of a person of no more consideration than
I am, either abroad or at home, could be of little
consequence to the success of any cause or any party,
has at length decided me to accept of the honour you
are willing to confer upon me.

You may easily believe, that I have had ^ my eyes
turned, with great curiosity, to the astonishing scene
now displayed in France. 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 which I must be very imper-
fectly acquainted. Things, indeed, have already hap-
pened so much beyond the scope of all speculation,
that persons of infinitely more sagacity than I am,
ought to be ashamed of anything like confidence in
their 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 information, 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. I beg you,
once for all, to apply this corrective of the diffidence
I have, on my own judgement, to whatever I may
happen to say with more positiveness than suits my
knowledge and situation. If I should seem anywhere
to express myself in the language of disapprobation, be
so good as to consider it as no more than the expression
of doubt.

You hope, sir, that I think the French deserving of
liberty. I 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 birthright of our species. We

1789] TO MONS. DUPONT 269

cannot forfeit our right to it, but by what forfeits our
title to the privileges of our kind. I mean the abuse, or
oblivion, of our rational faculties, and a ferocious
indocility which makes us prompt to wrong and
violence, destroys our social nature, and transforms us
into lomething little better than the description of
wild beasts. To men so degraded, a state of strong
constraint is a sort of necessary substitute for freedom ;
since, bad as it is s 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 free-
dom from your intercourse with me. Permit me then
to continue our conversation, and to tell you what the
freedom is that I love, and that to which I think all
men entitled. This is the more necessary, because, of
all the loose terms in the world, liberty is the most
indefinite. It is not solitary, unconnected, individual,
selfish liberty, as if every man was to regulate the
whole of his conduct by his own will. The liberty
I mean is social freedom. It is that state of things in
which liberty is secured by the equality of restraint.
A constitution of things in which the liberty of no one
man, and no body of men, and no number of men, can
find means to trespass on the liberty of any person, or
any description of persons, in the society. This kind
of liberty is, indeed, but another name for justice ;
ascertained by wise laws, and secured by well-con-
structed institutions. I am sure that liberty, so
incorporated, and in a manner identified with justice,
must be infinitely dear to every one who is capable of
conceiving what it is. But whenever a separation is
made between liberty and justice, neither is, in my
opinion, safe, I do not believe that men ever did
submit, certain I am that they never ought to have
submitted, to the arbitrary pleasure of one man ; but,
under circumstances in which the arbitrary pleasure
of many persons in the community pressed with an
intolerable hardship upon the just and eqnal rights of
their fellows, such a choice might be made, as among

270 EDMUND BURKE [1789

evils. The moment will is set above reason and justice,
in any community, a great question may arise in sober
minds, in what part or portion of the community that
dangerous dominion of will may be the least mis-
chievously placed.

If I think all men who cultivate justice, entitled to
liberty, and, when joined in states, entitled to a con-
stitution framed to perpetuate and secure it, you may
be assured, sir, that I think your countrymen eminently
worthy of a blessing which is peculiarly adapted to
noble, generous, and humane natures. Such I found
the French, when, more than fifteen years ago, I had
the happiness, though but for too short a time, of
visiting your country ; and I trust their character is
not altered since that period.

I have nothing to check my wishes towards the
establishment of a solid and rational scheme of liberty
in France. On the subject of the relative power of
nations, I may have my prejudices ; but I envy internal
freedom, security, and good order, to none. When,
therefore, I shalT learn that, in France, the citizen, by
whatever description he is qualified, is in a perfect
state of legal security, with regard to his life, to his
property, to the uncontrolled disposal of his person,
to the free use of his industry and his faculties :
When I hear that he is protected in the beneficial
enjoyment of the estates to which, by the course of
settled law, he was born, or is provided with a fair
compensation for them ; that he is maintained in the
full fruition of the advantages belonging to the state
and condition of life in which he had lawfully engaged
himself, or is supplied with a substantial, equitable,
equivalent : When I am assured that a simple citizen
may decently express his sentiments upon public
affairs, without hazard to his kf e or safety, even though
against a predominant and fashionable opinion : When
I know all this of France, I shall be as well pleased as
every one must be, who has not forgot the general
communion of mankind, nor lost his natural sympathy,
in local and accidental connexions.

1789] TO MONS. DUPONT 271

If a constitution is settled in France upon those
principles, and calculated for those ends, I believe
there is no man in this country whose heart and voice
would not go along with you. I am sure it will give
ine, for one, a heartfelt pleasure when I hear that,
in France, the greafc public assemblies, the natural
securities for individual freedom, are perfectly free
themselves ; when there can be no suspicion that they
are under the coercion of a military power of any
description ; when it may be truly said, that no armed
force can be seen, which is not caned into existence by
their creative voice, and which must not instantly
disappear at their dissolving word ; when sach assem-
blies, after being freely chosen, shall proceed with the
weight of magistracy, and not with the arts of candi-
dates; when they do not find themselves under the
necessity of feeding one part of the community at the
grievous charge of other parts, as necessitous as those
who are so fed ; when they are not obliged (in order
to flatter those who have their lives in their disposal)
to tolerate acts of doubtful influence on commerce and
on agriculture ; and for the sake of a precarious relief,
under temporary scarcity, to sow (if I ma y be allowed
the expression) the seeds of lasting want ; when they
are not compelled daily to stimulate an irregular and
juvenile imagination for supplies, which they are not
in a condition firmly to demand ; when they are not
obliged to diet the state from hand to mouth, upon the
casual alms of choice, fancy, vanity, or caprice, oa
which plan the value of the object to the public which
receives, often bears no sort of proportion to the loss
of the individual who gives ; when they are not neces-
sitated to call for contributions to be estimated on the
conscience of the contributor, by which the most per-
nicious sorts of exemptions and immunities may be
established, by which virtue is taxed and vice privi-
leged, and honour and public spirit are obliged to bear
the burdens of craft, selfishness, and avarice ; when
they shall not be driven to be the instruments of the
violence of others from a sense of their own weakness,

272 EDMUND BUBKE [1789

and from a want of authority to assess equal and
proportioned charges upon all, they are not compelled
to lay a strong hand upon the possessions of a part ;
when, under the exigencies of the state, (aggravated,
if not caused, by the imbecility of their own govern-
ment, and of all government,) they are not obliged to
resort to confiscation to supply the defect of taxation,
and thereby to hold out a pernicious example, to teach
the different descriptions of the community to prey
upon one another ; when they abstain religiously from
all general and extra-judicial declarations concerning
the property of the subject ; when they look with
horror upon all arbitrary decisions in their legislative
capacity, striking at prescriptive right, long undisturbed
possession, opposing an uninterrupted stream of regular
judicial determinations, by which sort of decisions they
are conscious no man's possession could be safe, and
individual property, to the very idea, would be extin-
guished ; when I see your great sovereign bodies, your
now supreme power, in this condition of deliberative
freedom, and guided by these or similar principles in
acting and forbearing, I shall be happy to behold in
assemblies whose name is venerable to my under-
standing and dear to my heart, an authority, a dignity,
a moderation, which, in all countries and governments,
ought ever to accompany the collected reason and
representative majesty of the commonwealth.

I shall rejoice no less in seeing a judicial power
established in Prance, correspondent to such a legis-
lature as I have presumed to hint at, and worthy to
second it in its endeavours to secure the freedom and
property of the subject. When your courts of justice
shall obtain an ascertained condition, before they are
made to decide on the condition of other men ; when
they shall not be called upon to take cognizance of
public offences, whilst they themselves are considered
only to exist as a tolerated abuse ; when, under doubts
of the legality of their rules of decision, their forms and
modes of proceeding, and even of the validity of that
system of authority to which they owe their existence ;

1789] TO MONS. DUPONT 273

when, amidst circumstances of suspense, fear, and
humiliation, they shall not be put to judge on the
lives, liberties, properties, or estimation of their fellow-
citizens ; when they are not called upon to put any
man to his trial upon undefined crimes of state, not
ascertained by any previous rule, statute, or course of
precedent ; when victims shall not be snatched from
the fury of the people, to be brought before a tribunal,
itself subject to the effects of the same fury, and
where the acquittal of the parties accused, might only
place the judge in the situation of the criminal ; when
I see tribunals placed in this state of independence
of everything but law. and with a clear law for
their direction, as a true lover of equal justice,
(under the shadow of which alone true liberty can
live,) I shall rejoice in seeing such a happy order
established in France, as much as I do in my conscious-
ness that an order of the same kind, or one not very
remote from it, has long been settled, and I hope on
a firm foundation, in England. I am not so narrow-
minded as to be unable to conceive that the same
object may be attained in many ways, and perhaps in
ways very different from those which we have followed
in this country. If this real practical liberty, with
a government powerful to protect, impotent to evade
it, be established, or is in a fair train of being es-
tablished in the democracy, or rather collection of
democracies, which seem to be chosen for the future
frame of society in France, it is not my having long
enjoyed a sober share of freedom, under a qualified
monarchy, thai shall render me incapable of admiring
and praising your system of republics. I should
rejoice, even though England should hereafter be
reckoned only as one among the happy nations, and
should no longer retain her proud distinction, her
monopoly of fame for a practical constitution, in which
the grand secret had been found, of reconciling a
government of real energy for all foreign and all
domestic purposes, with the most perfect security to the
liberty and safety of individuals. The government,

274 EDMUND BURKE [1789

whatever its name or form may be, that shall be
found substantially and practically to unite these
advantages, will most merit the applause of all dis-
cerning men.

But if (for in my present want of information I must
only speak hypothetically, ) neither your great assem-
blies, nor your judicatures, nor your municipalities, act,
and forbear to act, in the particulars, upon the prin-
ciples, and in the spirit that I have stated, I must
delay my congratulations on your acquisition of
liberty. You may have made a revolution, but not
a reformation. You may have subverted monarchy,
but not recovered freedom.

You see, sir, that I have merely confined myself in
my few observations on what has been done and is
doing in lYance, to the topics of the liberty, property,
and safety of the subjects. I have not said much on
the influence of the present measures upon your coun-
try, as a state. It is not my business, as a citizen of the
world ; and it is unnecessary to take up much time
about it, as it is sufficiently visible.

You are now to live in a new order of things, under
a plan of government of which no man can speak from
experience. Your talents, your public spirit, and your
fortune, give you fair pretensions to a considerable
share in it. Your settlement may be at hand ; but
that it is still at some distance, is more likely. The
French may be yet to go through more transmigrations.
They may pass, as one of our poets says, 'through
many varieties of untried being 5 , before their state
obtains its final form. In that progress through chaos
and darkness, you will find it necessary (at all times
it is more or less so) to fix rules to keep your life and
conduct in some steady course. You have theories
enough concerning the rights of men ; it may not be
amiss to add a small degree of attention to their nature
and disposition. It is with man in the concrete ; it
is with common human life, and human actions, you
are to be concerned. I have taken so many liberties
with you, that I am almost got the length of venturing

789] TO MONS. DUPONT 275

to suggest something which may appear in the as-
suming tone of advice. You will, however, be so good
as to receive my very few hints with your usual indul-
gence, though some of them, I confess, are not in the
taste of this enlightened^ age ; and, indeed, are no
better than the late ripe fruit of mere experience.
Never wholly separate in your mind the merits of any
political question, from the men who are concerned in
it. You will be told, that if a measure is good, what
have you to do with the character and views of those
who bring it forward. But designing men never
separate their plans from their interests ; and, if you
assist them in their schemes, you will find the pre-
tended good, in the end, thrown aside or perverted,
and the interested object alone compassed, and that,
perhaps, through your means. The power of bad men
is no indifferent thing.

At this moment you may not perceive the full
sense of this rule; but you will recollect it when
the cases are before you ; you will then see and
find its use. It will often keep your virtue from
becoming a tool of the ambition and ill designs of
others. Let me add what I think has some connexion
with the rule I mentioned, that you ought not to
be so fond of any political object, as not to think the
means of compassing it a serious consideration. No
man is less disposed than I am to put you under the
tuition of a petty pedantic scruple, in the manage-
ment of arduous affairs. All I recommend is, that
whenever the sacrifice of any subordinate point of
morality, or of honour, or even of common liberal
sentiment and feeling is called for, one ought to be
tolerably sure that the object is worth it. Nothing is
good, but in proportion and with reference. There
are several who give an air of consequence to very-
petty designs and actions, by the crimes through
which they make their way to their objects. What-
ever is obtained smoothly and by easy means, appears
of no value in their eyes. But when violent measures
are in agitation, one ought to be pretty clear that

276 EDMUND BURKE [1789

there are no others to which we can resort, and that
a predilection from character to such methods is not
the true cause of their being proposed. The state was
reformed by Sylla and by Caesar ; but the Cornelian
law and the Julian law were not worth the proscrip-
tion. The pride of the Roman nobility deserved a
check ; but I cannot, for that reason, admire the con-
duct of Cinna, and Marius, and Saturninus,

I admit that evils may be so very great and urgent,
that other evils are to be submitted to for the mere
4 hope of their removal. A war, for instance, may be
necessary, and we know what are the rights of war ;
but before we use those rights, we ought to be clearly
in the state which alone can justify them ; and not,
in the very fold of peace and security, by a bloody
sophistry, to act towards any persons at once as
citizens "and as enemies, and, without the necessary
formalities and evident distinctive lines of war, to
exercise upon our countrymen the most dreadful of all
hostilities. Strong party contentions, and a very
violent opposition to our desires and opinions, are not
war, nor can justify any one of its operations.

One form of government may be better than another,
and this difference may be worth a struggle. I think
so. I do not mean to treat any of those forms which
are often the contrivances of deep human wisdom
(not the rights of men, as some people, in my opinion,
not very wisely, talk of them) with slight or dis-
respect ; nor do I mean to level them.

A positively vicious and abusive government ought
to be changed, and, if necessary, by violence, if it
cannot be (as sometimes it is the case) reformed.
But when the question is concerning the more or the
less perfection in the organization of a government,
the allowance to means is not of so much latitude.
There is, by the essential fundamental constitution of
things, a radical infirmity in all human contrivances ;
and the weakness is often so attached to the very
perfection of our political mechanism, that some
defect in it, something that stops short of its prin-

1789] TO MONS. DUPOKT 277

ciple, something that controls, that mitigates, that
moderates it, becomes a necessary corrective to the
evils that the theoretic perfection would produce.
I am pretty sure it often is so ; and this truth may be
exemplified abundantly.

It is true that every defect is not of course such
a corrective as I state j but supposing it is not, an
imperfect good is still a good. The defect may be
tolerable, and may be removed at some future time.
In that case, prudence (in all things a virtue, in
politics, the first of virtues,) will lead us rather to
acquiesce in some qualified plan, that does not come
up to the full perfection of the abstract idea, than to
push for the more perfect, which cannot be attained
without tearing to pieces the whole contexture of the
commonwealth, and creating a heart-ache in a thousand
worthy bosoms. In that case, combining the means and
end, the less perfect is the more desirable. The
means to any end being first in order, are immediate
in their good or their evil; they are always, in a
manner, certainties. The end is doubly problematical ;
first, whether it is to be attained ; then, whether,
supposing it attained, we obtain the true object we
sought for.

But allow it in any degree probable, that theoretic
and practical perfection may differ, that an object
pure and absolute may not be so good as one lowered,
mixed, and qualified; then, what we abate in our
demand, in favour of moderation and justice, and
tenderness to individuals, would be neither more nor
less than a real improvement which a wise legislator
would make, if he had no collateral motive what-
soever, and only looked, in the formation of Ms scheme,
to its own independent ends and purposes. Would it
then be right to make way, through temerity and
crime, to a form of things which, when obtained,
evident reason, perhaps imperious necessity, would
compel us to alter, with the disgrace of inconsistency
in our conduct, and of want of foresight in our designs t

Believe me, sir, in all changes in the state, modera-

278 EDMUND BURKE [1789

tion is a virtue, not only amiable but powerful. It
is a disposing, arranging, conciliating, cementing
virtue. In the formation of new constitutions, it is
in its province. Great powers reside in those who can
make great changes. Their own moderation is their
only check ; and if this virtue is not paramount in
their minds, their acts will taste more of their power
than of their wisdom, or their benevolence. Whatever
they do will be in extremes ; it will be crude, harsh,
precipitate. It will be submitted to with grudging
and reluctance. Revenge will be smothered and
hoarded, and the duration of schemes marked in that
temper, will be as precarious as their establishment
was odious. This virtue of moderation (which times
and situations will clearly distinguish from the counter-
feits of pusillanimity and indecision) is the virtue only
of superior minds. It requires a deep courage, and
full of reflection, to be temperate when the voice
of multitudes (the specious mimic of fame and reputa-
tion) passes judgement against you. The impetuous
desire of an unthinking public will endure no course,
but what conducts to splendid and perilous extremes.
Then, to dare to be fearful, when all about you are
full of presumption and confidence, and when those
who are bold at the hazard of others would punish
your caution and disaffection, is to show a mind
prepared for its trial; it discovers, in the midst of
general levity, a self -possessing and collected charac*-
ter, which, sooner or later, bids fair to attract every
thing to it, as to a centre. If, however, the tempest
should prove to be so very violent, that it would make
public prudence itself unseasonable, and, therefore,
little less than madness for the individual and the
public too ; perhaps a young man could not do
better than to retreat for a while into study, to
leave the field to those whose duty or inclination, or
the necessities of their condition, have put them in
possession of it, and wait for the settlement of such
a commonwealth as an honest man may act in "with
satisfaction and credit. This he can never do when

1789] TO MONS. DUPONT 279

those who counsel the public, or the prince, are under
terror, let the authority under which they are made
to speak other than the dictates of their conscience,
be never so imposing in its name and attributes.

This moderation is no enemy to zeal and enthusiasm.
There is room enough for them ; for the restraint is
no more than the restraint of principle, and the
restraint of reason.

I have been led further than I intended ; but
every day's account shows more and more, in my
opinion, the ill-consequence of keeping good prin-
ciples, and good general views, within no bounds.
Pardon the liberty I have taken; though it seems
somewhat singular that I, whose opinions have so
little weight in my own country, where I have some
share in a public trust, should write as if it were
possible they should affect one man with regard to
affairs in which I have no concern. But, for the
present, my time is my own, and to tire your patience
is the only injury I can do you.

I am. &c.

EDM. BURKE.

BIGHT Hox. EDMUND BURKE TO PHILIP FRANCIS, ESQ.

Gerard Street, Fefa uarij 20, 1790.
MY DEAR SIR,

I sat up rather late at Carlton House, and on my
return hither, I found your letter on my table. I have
not slept since. You will, therefore, excuse me if you
find anything confused, or otherwise expressed than
I could wish, in speaking upon a matter which interests
you from your regard to me. There are some things
in your letter for which I must thank you ; there are
others which I must answer; some things bear the
mark of friendly admonition; others bear some
resemblance to the tone of accusation.

You are the only friend I have who will dare to
give me advice ; I must, therefore, have something

280 EDMUND BURKE [1790

terrible in me, which intimidates all others who know
me from giving me the only unequivocal mark of their
regard. Whatever this rough and menacing manner
may be, I must search myself upon it ; and when
I discover it, old as I am, I must endeavour to correct
it. I flattered myself, however, that you at least
would not have thought my other friends justified
in withholding from me their services of this kind.
You certainly do not always convey to me your
opinions with the greatest tenderness and manage-
ment ; and yet I do not recollect, since I first had the
pleasure of your acquaintance, that there has been
a heat or a coolness of a single day's duration, on my
side, during that whole time. I believe your memory
cannot present to you an instance of it. I ill deserve
friends, if I throw them away on account of the candour
and simplicity of their good nature. In particular you
know, that you have in some instances favoured me
with your instructions relative to things I was preparing
for the public. If I did not in every instance agree
with you, I think you had, on the whole, sufficient
proofs of nay docility, to make you believe that
I received your corrections, not only without offence,
but with no small degree of gratitude.

Your remarks upon the first two sheets of my Paris
letter, relate to the composition and the matter. The
composition, you say. is loose, and I am quite sure of
it: I never intended it should be otherwise. For,
purporting to be, what in truth it originally was,
a letter to a friend, I had no idea of digesting it in
a systematic order. The style is open to correction,
and wants it. My natural style of writing is somewhat
careless, and I should be happy in receiving your
advice towards making it as little vicious as such
a style is capable of being made. The general character
and colour of a style, which grows out of the writer's
peculiar turn of mind and habit of expressing his
thoughts, must be attended to in all corrections. It
is not the insertion of a piece of stuff, though of
a better kind, which is at all times an improvement.

1790] TO PHILIP FRANCIS 281

Your main objections are, however, of a much
deeper nature, and go to the political opinions and
moral sentiments of the piece ; in which I find, though
with no sort of surprise, having often talked with you
on the subject, that we differ only in everything.
You sa.y, * the mischief you are going to do yonrseH,
is to my apprehension palpable ; I snuff it in the wind,
and my taste sickens at it.' This anticipated stench,
that turns your stomach at such a distance, must be
nauseous indeed. You seem to think I shall incur
great (and not wholly undeserved) infamy, by this
publication. This makes it a matter of some delicacy
to me, to suppress what I have written ; for I must
admit in my own feelings, and in that of those "who
have seen the piece, that my sentiments and opinions
deserve the infamy with which they are threatened.
If they do not, I know nothing more than that I oppose
the prejudices and inclinations of many people. This
I was well aware of from the beginning ; and it was
in order to oppose those inclinations and prejudices,
that I proposed to publish my letter. I really am
perfectly astonished how you could dream, with my
paper in your hand, that I found no other cause than
the beauty of the queen of Prance (now, I suppose,
pretty much faded) for disapproving the conduct which
has been held towards her, and for expressing my own
particular feelings. I am not to order the natural
sympathies of my own heart, and of every honest
breast, to wait until all the jokes of all the anecdotes
of the coffee-houses of Paris, and of the dissenting
meeting-houses of London, are scoured of all the
slander of those who calumniate persons, that, after-
wards, they may murder them with impunity. I know
nothing of your story of Messalina. Am I obliged to
prove juridically the virtues of all those I shall see
suffering every kind of wrong, and contumely, and
risk of life, before I endeavour to interest others in
their sufferings, and before I endeavour to excite
horror against midnight assassins at back-stairs, and
their more wicked abettors in pulpits ? What ! Are

282 EDMUND BURKE [1790

not high rank, great splendour of descent, great
personal elegance and outward accomplishments,
ingredients of moment in forming the interest we
take in the misfortunes of men ? The minds of those
who do not feel thus, are not even systematically
right. ' What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
that he should weep for her ? * Why, because she
was Hecuba, the Queen of Troy, the wife of Priam,
and suffered, in the close of life, a thousand calamities I
I felt too for Hecuba, when T read the fine tragedy of
Euripides upon her story ; and I never inquired into
the anecdotes of the court or city of Troy, before
I gave way to the sentiments which the author wished
to inspire ; nor do I remember that he ever said
one word of her virtue. It is for those who applaud
or palliate assassination, regicide, and base insult to
women of illustrious place, to prove the crimes (in 1
sufferings) which they allege, to justify their own.
But if they have proved fornication on any such
woman, taking the manners of the world, and the
manners of France, I shall never put it in a parallel
with assassination ! No : I have no such inverted
scale of faults, in my heart or my head.

You find it perfectly ridiculous, and unfit for me
in particular, to take these things as my ingredients
of commiseration. Pray why is it absurd in me to
think, that the chivalrous spirit which dictated
a veneration for women of condition and of beauty,
without any consideration whatever of enjoying them,
was the great source of those manners which have
been the pride and ornament of Europe for so many
ages ? And am I not to lament that I have lived to
see those manners extinguished in so shocking a manner,
by means of speculations of finance, and the false
science of a sordid and degenerate philosophy ? I tell
you again, that the recollection of the manner in
which I saw the Queen of France, in the year 1774,
and the contrast between that brilliancy, splendour,

1 The manuscript of this letter is not the original, and
probably there has been some error in copying these words.

1790] TO PHILIP FRANCIS 283

and beauty, with, the prostrate homage of a nation to
her, and the abominable scene of 1789, which I was
describing, did draw tears from me and wetted my
paper. These tears came again into my eyes, almost
as often as I looked at the description ; they may
again. You do not believe this fact, nor that these
are my real feelings ; but that the whole is affected,
or, as you express it, downright foppery. My friend,
I tell you it is truth ; and that it is true, and will be
truth, when you and I are no more ; and will exist
as long as men with their natural feelings shall exist.
I shall say no more on this foppery of mine. Oh !
by the way, you ask me how long I have been an
admirer of German ladies ? Always the same. Present
me the idea of such massacres about any German lady
here, and such attempts to assassinate her, and such
a triumphant procession from Windsor to the Old
Jewry, and I assure you, I shall be quite as full of
natural concern and just indignation.

As to the other points, they deserve serious con-
sideration, and they shall have it. I certainly cannot
profit quite so much by your assistance, as if we agreed.
In that case, every correction would be forwarding
the design. We should work with one common view.
But it is impossible that any man can correct a work
according to its true spirit, who is opposed to its object,
or can help the expression of what he thinks should
not be expressed at all.

I should agree with you about the vileness of the
controversy with such miscreants as the ' Revolution
Society, 5 and the 4 National Assembly ; * and I know
very well that they, as well as their allies, the Indian
delinquents, will clarken the air with their arrows.
But I do not yet think they have the advowson of
reputation. I shall try that point. My dear sir, you
think of nothing but controversies ; * I challenge into
the field of battle, and retire defeated, &c.' If their
having the last word be a defeat, they most assuredly
will defeat me. But I intend no controversy with
Dr. Price, or Lord Shelburne, or any other of their

284 EDMUND BURKE [1790

set. I mean to set in full view the danger from their
wicked principles and their black hearts. I intend
to state the true principles of our constitution ^ in
church and state, upon grounds opposite to theirs.
If any one be the better for the example made of them,
and for this exposition, well and good. I mean to do
my best to expose them to the hatred, ridicule, and
contempt of the whole world ; as I always shall
expose such calumniators, hypocrites, sowers of
sedition, and approvers of murder and all its triumphs.
When I have done that, they ^ may have the field to
themselves ; and I care very little how they triumph
over me, since I hope they will not be able to draw
me at their heels, and carry my head in triumph on
their poles.

I have been interrupted, and have said enough.
Adieu ' believe me always sensible of your friendship ;
though it is impossible that a greater difference caji
exist on earth, than, unfortunately for me, there is
on those subjects, between your sentiments and mine.

EDM. BUBKE.

BIGHT HON. EDMUND BUBKE TO CAPTAIN MEECEE

London, February 26, 1790.
DEAR Sra,

The speedy answer I return to your letter, I hope
will convince you of the high value I set upon the
regard you are so good to express for me, and the
obliging trouble which you take to inform my judge-
ment upon matters in which we are all very deeply
concerned. I think perfectly well of your heart and
your principles, and of the strength of your natural
understanding, which, according to your opportunities,
you have not been wanting in pains to improve. If
you are mistaken, it is perhaps owing to the impression
almost inevitably made, by the various careless con-
versations which we are engaged in through life ;
conversations in which those who propagate^ their
doctrines have not been called upon for much refl.ee-

1790] TO CAPTAIN MERCER 285

tion concerning their end and tendency ; and when
those who imperceptibly imbibe them are not required,
by a particular duty, very closely to examine them, or
to act from the impressions they received. I am
obliged to act, and am, therefore, bound to call my
principles and sentiments to a strict account. As far
as my share of a public trust goes, I am in trust
religiously to maintain the rights and properties of all
descriptions of people in the possessions which they
legally hold, and in the rule by which alone they can
be secure in any possession. I do not find myself at
liberty, either as a man or as a trustee for men, to
take a vested property from one man and give it to
another, because I think that the portion of one is
too great, and that of another too small. From my
first juvenile rudiments of speculative study, to the
grey hairs of my present experience, I have never
learned anything else. I can never be taught anything
else by reason ; and when/orce comes, I shall consider
whether I am to submit to it, or how I am to resist it.
This I am very sure of, that an early guard against
the manifest tendency of a contrary doctrine, is the
only way by which those who love order can be pre-
pared to resist such force.

The calling men by the names of c pampered and
luxurious prelates ' is, in you, no more than a mark
of your dislike to intemperance and idle expense.
But in others it is used for other purposes ; it is often
used to extinguish the sense of justice in our minds,
and the natural feelings of humanity in our bosoms.
In them, such abusive language is used to mitigate the
cruel effects of reducing men of opulent condition, and
their innumerable dependents, to the last distress.
If I were to adopt the plan of a spoliatory reforma-
tion, I should probably employ it ; but it would
aggravate, instead of extenuating guilt, in overturning
the sacred principles of property.

Sir, I say that church and state, and human society
too, (for which church and state are made,) are sub-
verted by such doctrines, joined to such practices, as

286 EDMUND BURKE [1790

leave no foundation for property in long possessions.
My dear Captain Mercer, it is not my calling the use
you make of your plate, in your house either of
dwelling or of prayer, ; pageantry and hypocrisy,'
that can justify me in taking from you your property,
and your liberty to use your own property according
to your own ideas of ornament. When you find me
attempting to break into your house to take your
plate under any pretence whatsoever, but most of
all, under pretence of purity of religion and Christian
charity, shoot me for a robber and an hypocrite, as
in that case I shall certainly be. The true Christian
religion never taught me any such practices ; nor did
the religion of my nature, nor any religion, nor any law.
Let those who have never abstained from a full
meal, and as much wine as they could swallow, for
a single day of their whole lives, satirize c luxurious
and pampered prelates ' if they will. Let them abuse
such prelates, and such lords, and such c squires \
provided it be only to correct their vices. I care not
much about the language of this moral satire, if they
go no further than satire. But there are occasions
when the language of Palstaff, reproaching the
Londoners whom he robbed in their way to Canterbury,
with their gorbellies and city-luxury, is not so
becoming. It is not calling the landed estates, pos-
sessed by old prescriptive rights, * the accumulations
of ignorance and superstition,' that can support me in
shaking that grand title which supersedes every other
title, and which all my studies of general jurisprudence
have taught me to consider as one principal cause of
the formation of states ; I mean the ascertaining and
securing of prescription. * But these are donations
made in ages of ignorance and superstition.' Be it
so ; it proves that they were made long ago ; and
this is prescription, and this gives right and title. It
is possible that many estates about you were obtained
by arms ; a thing almost as bad as superstition, and
not much short of ignorance ; but it is old violence ;
and that which might be wrong in the beginning, is

1790] TO CAPTAIN MERCER 287

consecrated by time and becomes lawful. This may
be superstition in me. and ignorance ; but I had rather
remain in ignorance and superstition, than be en-
lightened and purified out of the first principles of law
and natural justice.

I never will suffer you, if I can help it, to be deprived
of the well-earned fruits of your industry, because
others may want your fortune more than you do, and
may have laboured, and do now labour, in vain to
acquire even a subsistence. Neither, on the contrary,
if success had less smiled upon your endeavour^ and
you had come home insolvent, would I take from any
6 pampered and luxurious lord * in your neighbourhood,
one acre of his land, or one spoon from Ms sideboard,
to compensate your losses ; though incurred, as they
would have been incurred, in the course of a well-
spent, virtuous, and industrious life. God is the
distributor of his own blessings. I will not impiously
attempt to usurp his throne, but will keep, according
to the subordinate place and trust in which he has
stationed me, the order of property which I find
established in my country. No guiltless man has
ever been, nor, I trust, ever will be, able to say with
truth, that he has been obliged to retrench a dish at
his table, for any reformations of mine.

You. pay me the compliment to suppose me a foe
to tyranny and oppression ; and you are, therefore,
surprised at the sentiments I have lately delivered in
parliament. I am that determined foe to tyranny,
or I greatly deceive myself in my character, and am
an idiot in my conduct. It is because I am such a
foe, and mean to continue so, that I abominate the
example of Prance for this country. I know that
tyranny seldom attacks the poor, never in the first
instance. They are not its proper prey. It falls upon
the wealthy and the great, whom, by rendering them
objects of envy, and otherwise obnoxious to the
multitude, they the more easily destroy; and when
they are destroyed, that multitude which was led to
that ill work by the arts of bad men, is itself undone

288 EDMUND BURKE [1790

for ever. I hate tyranny, at least I think so ; but
I hate it most of all where most are concerned in
it. The tyranny of a multitude is but a multiplied
tyranny. If, as society is constituted in these large
countries of France and England, full of unequal
property, I must make my choice (which God avert)
between the despotism of a single person, or of the
many, my election is made : For, in the forty years
of my observation, as much injustice and tyranny
has been practised in a few months by a French
democracy, as by all the arbitrary monarchs in
Europe. I speak of public, glaring acts of tyranny.
I say nothing of the common effects of old abusive
governments, because I do not know that as bad may
not be found from the new. This democracy begins
very ill ; and I feel no security that what has been
rapacious and bloody in its commencement, in its
final settlement will be mild and protecting. They
cannot, indeed, in future rob so much, because they
have left little that can be taken. I go to the full
length of my principle. I should think the government
of the deposed King of France, or of the late King of
Prussia, or the present Emperor, or the present
Czarina, none of them, perhaps, perfectly good, to
be far better than the government of twenty-four
millions of men all as good as you, (and I do not know
anybody better) supposing that those twenty-four
millions would be subject, as infallibly they would,
to the same unrestrained, though virtuous impulses ;
because, it is plain, you would think everything
justified by your warm good intentions ,- you would
heat one another by your common zeal ; counsel and
advice would be lost on you,- you would not listen
to temperate individuals ; and you would be infinitely
less capable of moderation than the most heady of
those princes.

What have I to do with France, but as the common
interest of humanity, and its example to this country
engages me ? I kaow France, by observation and
inquiry, pretty tolerably for a stranger; and I am

1790] TO CAPTAIN MERCER 280

not a man to fall in love with the faults or follies of
the old or new government. You reason as if I were
running a parallel between its former abusive govern-
ment and the present tyranny. What had all this to
do with the opinions I delivered in parliament, which
run a parallel between the liberty they might have
had, and this frantic delusion ? This is the way by
which you blind and deceive yourself, and beat the
air in your argument with me. Why do you instruct
me on a state of case which has no existence ? You
know how to reason very well. What most of the
newspapers make me say, I know not, nor do I much
care. I don't, however, think they have thus stated
me. There is a very fair abstract of my speech printed
in a little pamphlet, which I would send you if it were
worth putting you to the expense.

To discuss the affairs of France and its revolution,
would require a volume, perhaps many volumes.
Your general reflections about revolutions may be
right or wrong; they conclude nothing, I don't
find myself disposed to controvert them, for I do
not think they apply to the present affairs; nay,
I am sure they do not. I conceive you have got very
imperfect accounts of these transactions. I believe
I am much more exactly informed concerning them.

I am sorry, indeed, to find that our opinions do
differ essentially, fundamentally, and are at the
utmost possible distance from each other, if I under-
stand you or myself clearly on this subject. Your
freedom is far from displeasing to me, I love it; for I
always wish to know the full of what is in the mind of
the friend I converse with. I give you mine as freely,
and I hope I shall offend you as little as you do me.

I shall have no objection to your showing my letter
to as many as you please. I have no secrets with
regard to the public. I have never shrunk from
obloquy, and I have never courted popular applause.
If I have ever met with any share of it non rapui
sed recepL No difference of opinion, however, shall
hinder me from cultivating your friendship, whilst

237 L

290 EDMUND BUKKE [1790

yon permit me to do so. I have not wrote this to
discuss these matters in a prolonged controversy.
I wish we may never say more of them ; but to
comply with your commands, which ever shall have
due weight with me.

I am,

Most respectfully and affectionately yours,
EDM. BUBKE.

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BUBKE TO WILLIAM

WINDHAM, ESQ.

Duke Street, St. James's, December 21, 1790.
MY DEAB SIB,

The valuable present which I received from the
resident graduates in the University of Oxford,
becomes doubly acceptable by passing through your
hands. 1 Gentlemen so eminent in science, erudition,
and virtue, and who possess the uncommon art of
doing kind things in the kindest manner, would
naturally choose a person qualified like themselves,
to convey their favours and distinctions to those
whom they are inclined to honour.

Be pleased to assure those learned gentlemen,
that I am beyond measure happy, in finding my
well-meant endeavours well received by them; and
I think my satisfaction does not arise from motives
merely selfish; because their declared approbation
must be of the greatest importance in giving an
effect (which, without that sanction, might well be
wanting) to an humble attempt in favour of the cause
of freedom, virtue, and order united. This cause it
is our common wish and our common interest to
maintain ; and it can hardly be maintained without
securing, on a solid foundation, and preserving in an
uncorrupted purity the noble establishments which
the wisdom of our Ancestors have formed for giving
permanence to those blessings which they have left us
as our best inheritance.

1 An address of congratulation upon the attitude he
had taken to the French Revolution.

1790] TO WILLIAM WINDHAM 291

Express to these worthy gentlemen the consolation
and support which I feel from their approbation, at
a moment when I am, in declining age, strength, and
faculties, in my last effort of the long, long struggle
which, with you, and so many other excellent persons,
I have made to shake off the most dangerous and
most malignant distemper by which the constitution
of Great Britain was ever attacked, and under which
it must sink, if a most marked distinction is not made
between the persons who serve us well or ill in the
administration of our power abroad; or if eastern
despotism, peculation, venality, oppression, inhu-
manity, and cruelty, can find countenance in this
country, to the disgrace of a nation which glories in
legal liberty, and to the shame of that religion, which,
being founded upon a suffering under tyranny and
injustice, both from the great and from the people,
in a peculiar manner engages all its professors, and
all its teachers, to discountenance such tempers and
practices, and even to wage, under the standard of
the Captain of our Salvation, a war without quarter
upon all cruelty and oppression, wherever they appear,
in whatever shape, and in whatever descriptions of men.

I have the honour to be, with the most perfect
respect and affection,

My dear sir,

Your most faithful and obliged
humble servant,

EDM. BURKE.

THE BIGHT HON. EDMUND BUEKB TO THE HON.
JOHN TEEVOB, Esq. 1

January, 1791.
MY DEAE SIB,

I am exceedingly nattered in finding that any

thing which I have done could contribute to yours

and Mrs. Trevor's entertainment during part of

the time that the service of your country abroad

1 The British Minister at Turin.

292 EDMUND BURKE [1791

deprives it of so much of its ornament and satis-
faction at home. The pamphlet which has been
so happy as to engage something of yours and
Mrs. Trevor's attention, has not been ill-received
here. This gives me no small satisfaction, because
it shows that the major part of our countrymen
do not find their sentiments misrepresented, when
I state them as no admirers of the late prosperous,
though most unnatural and perfidious, rebellion in
France ; or of the degrading tyranny which has been
since established in that unfortunate country, under
the name of constitution.

I thank you for your goodness in sending me
Mr. Lally Tolendal's book. It is a very eloquent
performance, and might possibly be of great use,
if one could guess what would be serviceable in the
present state of things. The people of that country
are ill of so anomalous, and, in every respect, so new
a distemper, that no one can possibly prognosticate
anything concerning its crisis, or its indications of
cure. Whether the drastic purges, or the mild aperi-
tives are the most promising, I cannot possibly say.
To tell you the truth, I have no opinion at all of internal
remedies in their case. To quit the metaphor,
I cannot persuade myself that anything whatsoever
can be effected without a great force from abroad.
The predominant faction is the strongest, as I con-
ceive, without comparison. They are armed. Their
enemies are disarmed and dispersed. The army seems
hardly fit for any good purpose. But the grand point
against all interior attempts is, that the faction are
in possession. Unless it be taken by surprise, as the
late French monarchy was, it is not easy, by con-
spiracy, or insurrection, to overturn any government.
A republican government, or rather a body of repub-
lican governments, cannot be taken by a coup de
main, or put an end to by the seizure of one person.
They have the king in custody, and can make him
say and do just what they please. The people, too,
have the name of the king on their side. All the

1791] TO THE HON. JOHN TREYOK 293

royal authority which exists, operates against tlie
partizans of the monarchy.

One might as well have expected a counter-revolu-
tion in Holland, in Liege, or in the Netherlands, by
a change of mind in the people, without a great foreign
force, as in France. Full as much in my opinion.
Nothing else but a foreign force can or will do. In
this design, too, Great Britain and Prussia must at
least acquiesce. Nor is it a small military force that
can do the business. It is a serious design, and must
be done with combined strength. Nor must that
strength be under any ordinary conduct. It will
require as much political management as military
skill in the commanders.

France is weak indeed, divided, and deranged ;
but God knows, when the things came to be tried,
whether the invaders would not find that this enter-
prise was not to support a party, but to conquer
a kingdom. I perhaps have the misfortune to differ
with you in one point ; and when I do, you may be
sure I cannot be very positive in my opinion, ' My
difference is about the time of making the attempt.
Every hour any system of government continues, be
that system what it will, the more it obtains consis-
tency, and the better it will be able to provide for its
own support ; and the less the people, who always
look to settlement of one kind or other, will be dis-
posed to any enterprises for overturning it. If the
powers who may be disposed to think, as I most
seriously do, that no monarchy, limited or unlimited,
nor any of the old republics, can possibly be safe as
long as this strange, nameless, wild enthusiastic thing
is established in the centre of Europe, may^ not be
in readiness to act in concert and with all their forces,
if this be the case,' to be sure nothing is to be
attempted but the preluding war of paper. For my
part, I am entirely in the dark about the designs and
means of the powers of Europe in this respect. How-
ever, this I am quite sure of, al the other policy is
childish play in comparison.

294 EDMUND BURKE [1791

I have a very high opinion of Mons. de Calonne.
His book, upon the whole, must do great service.
I wish, indeed, that he had hinted less about arrange-
ments to be made in consequence of success. He
speaks as if commissaries had been appointed to settle
these differences. But I conceive things are very far
from such a state. The matters he proposes will
never be understood by the seduced common people ;
and, as to the leaders, he must think much better of
their moderation than I do, if he thinks that any-
thing but their present dominion will serve them.
Theoretic plans of constitution have been the bane of
France ; and I am satisfied that nothing can possibly
do it any real service, but to establish it upon all its
ancient bases. Till that is done, one man's speculation
will appear as good as another's. Those who think
the king and two houses can be the government of
Erance, mistake, I am afraid, the true internal consti-
tution of our government, which is not what it appears
on paper. But I have tired you enough already, and
will not enter into an explanation on this head.

EDM. BURKE.

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUHD BURKE TO THE
CHEVALIER DE LA BI^TTESTNAYE 1

Duke, Street, March, 1791.
DEAR SIR,

I had the honour to receive your most friendly
and obliging letter from Brussels. You greatly over-
rate the value of the very few attentions which I had
the means of showing you, whilst you remained in
London. I do most sincerely lament the sad occasion
that produced our acquaintance. In so great a public

The Chevalier de la Bintinnaye was a relation of Cice,
Bishop of Auxer^e, with whom the Burkes, father and son,
formed an intimate acquaintance when in Prance in
1773

1791] TO CHEVALIER DE LA BINTINNAYE 295

disaster, however, I feel this consolation, that I had
an opportunity of seeing undeserved affliction home
with a manly constancy, and that the same courage
which produced your honourable wounds, and sus-
tained you under them, has enabled you to support
your reverse of fortune with dignity, which becomes
those who suffer in the cause of honour and virtue.
I should be happy to send you a copy of the letter
which I wrote to a person of distinction in Paris, in.
answer to one from him. 1 But as I had my doubts
whether what I wrote in the present temper of the
times, and the present posture of affairs, might be
useful in the publication, I left the matter to the
gentleman's own discretion, promising not to disperse
any copies without his leave. This, I hope, my dear
sir, win plead my excuse to you. I did hear that
a translation of that letter was preparing at Paris.
If this be the case, you will see it very soon. It will,
I am afraid, afford you no very great satisfaction.
Some part of the letter was to exculpate myself (or
rather perhaps to apologize) from some faults which
the gentleman found in my pamphlet. The rest was
to show, from the actual state of Prance, (as well as
I was able to enter into its condition,) the utter
impossibility of a counter-revolution from any internal
cause. You know, sir, that no party can act without
a resolute, vigorous, zealous, and enterprising chief.
The chief of every monarchical party must be the
monarch himself ; at least, he must lend himself
readily to the spirit and energy of others. You have
a well-intentioned and virtuous prince ; but minds
Jike his, bred with no other view than to a safe and
languid domination, are not made for breaking their
prisons, terrifying their enemies, and animating their
friends. Besides, in a wife and children, he has given
hostages to his enemies. If the king can do nothing

1 This is probably the letter to a member of the National
Assembly, published in the fourth volume of Brake's works,
" World's Classics" edition.

296 EDMUND BURKE [1791

in his situation, the wonder is not great. It is muck
greater, on all appearance, that not one man is to be
found in the numerous nobility of France, who, to
great military talents, adds any sort of lead, con-
sideration, or following, in the country or in the
army. To strengthen itself, the monarchy had
weakened every other force. To unite the nation to
itself, it had dissolved all other ties. When the chain
which held the people to the prince was once broken,
the whole frame of the commonwealth was found in
a state of disconnexion. There was neither force nor
union anywhere, to sustain the monarchy, or the
nobility, or the church. As to great and commanding
talents, they are the gift of Providence in some way
unknown to us. They rise where they are least
expected. They fail when everything seems disposed
to produce them, or at least to call them forth. Your
sole hope seems to me to rest in the disposition of the
neighbouring powers, and in their ability to yield you
assistance. I can conjecture nothing with certainty
of this, in either of the points. But at present I see
nothing that in the smallest degree looks that way.
In the meantime the usurpation gathers strength
by continuance, and credit by success. People will
look to power, and join, or, at least, accommodate
themselves to it. I confess I am astonished at the
blindness of the states of Europe, who are contending
with each other about points of trivial importance,
and on old worn-out principles and topics of policy,
when the very existence of all of them is menaced by
a new evil, which none of the ancient maxims are of
the least importance in dissipating. But in all these
things, we must acknowledge and revere, in silence,
a superior hand. In the spirit of this submission I,
however, am so far from blaming every sort of
endeavour, that I much lament the remissness of the
gentlemen of France. Their adversaries have seized
upon all the newspapers which circulate within this
kingdom, and which from hence are dispersed all over
Europe. That they are masters of the presses of

1791] TO CHEVALIER BE LA BINTINNAYE 297

Paris, is a thing of course. But surely, the oppressed
party might amongst them maintain a person here,
to whom they might transmit a true state of affairs.
The emissaries of the usurpation here, are exceedingly
active in propagating stories which tend to alienate
the minds of people of this country from the suffering
cause. Not one French refugee has intelligence or
spirit enough to contradict them. I have done all
which the common duties of humanity can claim from
one who has not the honour of being a subject of
France. I have duties and occupations at home,
public and private, which will not suffer me to continue
longer with my thoughts abroad. But if any gentle-
man from France would undertake such a task, with
proper materials for it, he should have my best advice.
The expense of such a person stationed here would
not be great ; and surely, reduced as the noblesse of
France not expatriated are, enough remains to them
to do this and more. If their avarice, or their dissipa-
tion, will afford nothing to their honour or their safety,
their case is additionally deplorable.

My wife and my son always preserve the most
respectful and affectionate remembrance of you, of
the bishop, and of Mademoiselle de Cice. I have
had a letter from the Vicomte, with a very satisfactory
memorial. I have given him an answer, and have
taken the liberty of putting further questions to him.

I have the honour to be, with the most cordial and
respectful attachment,

Dear sir,

Your most faithful and obedient
humble servant,
EDM. BUKKE.

I have written at large to the Vicomte de Cice,
and directed my letter to Jersey. I hear that he is
now at Brussels ; I hope he has got my letter. Pray
present my most humble respects to him.

L3

298 EDMUOT) BURKE [1791

THE BIGHT Hoi*. EDMTTKD BURKE TO THE CHEVALIER

DE RlVAROL 1

June 1, 1791.
SIR,

I am much, obliged to you for your very polite and
flattering attention to me, and the piece which you
are pleased to regard with so much indulgence. It is
an endeavour very well intended, but I am conscious,
very inadequate to the great interest of this kingdom,
and of mankind, which it proposes to assert.

I have seen, though too late to profit by them,
your brother's admirable annals, which may rank
with those of Tacitus. If there is, indeed, a strong
coincidence in our way of thinking, I ought to be
very proud of that circumstance. If I had seen his
performance before I had written on the same sub-
ject, I should rather have chosen to enrich my pamphlet
with quotations from thence, than have ventured to
express the thoughts in which we agreed, in worse
words of my own. I thank you, too, for the elegant
poem which you have done me the honour to transmit
to me with your letter. So far as I am capable of
forming any judgement upon French poetry, the
verses are spirited and well-turned, and the author
possesses the art of interesting the passions, which is
the triumph of that kind of eloquence. I wish, without
disguising my real sentiments, I could go as far in
my approbation of the general tendency of one of
these pieces, and of the policy of such publications
at such a time as this. Porgive me, sir, if I take the
liberty of suggesting to your superior judgement, as
well as to that of the Emperor's advisers, that it is
not very easy to suppress (by the methods lately used)
what you call the monkish fury, without exciting fury
of another kind ; a sort of fury which will perhaps
be found more untractable than the other, and which
may be carried to much greater lengths. In such a

1 The distinguished counter-revolutionist.

1791] TO THE CHEVALIER BE BIVABOL 299

dilemma, it would not misbecome a great statesman
seriously to consider what he has in charge to support,
and the country, which it is Ms duty to preserve in
peace and prosperity. That fury which arises in the
minds of men, on being stripped of their goods and
turned out of their houses by acts of power, and our
sympathy with them under such wrongs, are feelings
implanted in us by our Creator, to be (under the
direction of His laws) the means of our preservation.
Such fury and such sympathy are things very different
from men's imaginary political systems concerning
governments. They arise out of instinctive principles
of self-defence, and are executive powers under the
legislation of nature, enforcing its first laws. These
principles, prince and commonwealth (whatever they
may think their rights) cannot always attack with
perfect impunity. If princes wiE, in cold blood, and
from mistaken ideas of policy, excite the passions of
the multitude against particular descriptions of men,
whether they be priests or nobility, in order to avail
themselves of the assistance of that multitude in their
enterprises against those classes, let them recollect
that they call in the aid of an ally more dangerous to
themselves than those whom they are desirous of
oppressing.

The Netherlands have been but newly recovered
to the Emperor. He owes that recovery to a con-
currence of very extraordinary circumstances, and
he has made great sacrifices to his object. Is it really
his interest to have it understood that he means to
repeat the very proceedings which have excited all
the late troubles in his territories ? Can it be true that
he means to draw up the very same flood-gates which
have let loose the deluge that has overwhelmed the
great monarchy in his neighbourhood ? Does he
think, if he means to encourage the spirit which
prevails in France, that it will be exerted in his favour,
or to answer Ms purposes ? Whilst he is destroying
prejudices, which (under good management) may
become the surest support of his government, is he

300 EDMUND BURKE [1791

not afraid that the discussion may go further than
he wishes ? If he excites men to inquire too scrupu-
lously into the foundation of all old opinion, may he
not have reason to apprehend that several will see as
little use in monarchs as in monks ? The question is
not whether they will argue logically or not, but
whether the turn of mind, which leads to such dis-
cussions, may not become as fatal to the former as
the latter. He may trust in the fine army he has
assembled, but fine armies have been seduced from
their allegiance, and the seducers are not far from
him. He may fortify his frontier, but fortresses have
been betrayed by their garrisons, and garrisons over-
powered by burghers. Those of the democratical
faction 1 , in the Netherlands, have always an armed
ally more conveniently situated to assist them, than
the Emperor is conveniently situated to assist himself.
Would not prudence rather direct him, I say, to fortify
himself in the heart of his people, by repairing, rather
than by destroying, those dykes and barriers which
prejudice might raise in his favour, and which cost
nothing to his treasury either in the construction or
the reparation ?

It were better to forget, once for all, the encyclopedic
and the whole body of economists, and to revert to
those old rules and principles which have hitherto
made princes great, and nations happy. Let not
a prince circumstanced like him, weakly fall in love
either with monks or nobles, still less let Mm violently
hate them. In his Netherlands, he possesses the most
populous, the best cultivated, and the most nourishing
country in Europe ; a country from which, at this
day, and even in England, we are to learn the perfect
practice of the best of arts, that of agriculture. If
he has a people like the Flemings, industrious, frugal,
easy, obedient, what is it to Mm whether they are
fond of monks, or love ringing of bells, and lighting
of candles, or not ? A wise prince, as I hope the
Emperor is, will study the genius of Ms people. He
will indulge them in their humours, he will preserve

1791} TO THE CHEVALIER DE BIVABOL 301

them in their privileges, he will act upon the circum-
stances of Ms states as he finds them, and whilst thus
acting upon the practical principles of a practical
policy, he is the happy prince of a happy people.
He will not care what the Condorcet and the Raynal,
and the whole flight of the magpies and jays of
philosophy, may fancy and chatter concerning his
conduct and character.

Well it is for the Emperor, that the late rebellion
of the Netherlands was a rebellion against innovation.
When, therefore, he returned to the possession of his
estates, (an event which no man wished more sin-
cerely than I did,) he found none of the ancient land-
marks removed. He found everything, except the
natural effects of a transient storm, exactly as it was
on the day of the revolt. Would the king of France,
supposing his restoration probable, find his kingdom
in the same condition ? Oh no, sir 1 Many long, long
labours would be required to restore that country to
any sort of good order. Why ? because their rebellion
is the direct contrary to that of Manders. It is a
revolt of innovation ; and thereby, the very elements of
society have been confounded and dissipated. Small
politicians will certainly recommend to Mm to nourish
a democratical party, in order to curb the aristocratic
and the clerical. In general, all policy founded on
discord is perilous to the prince and fatal to the
country. The support of the permanent orders in
their places, and the reconciling them all to his govern-
ment, will be Ms best security, either for governing
quietly in Ms own person, or for leaving any sure
succession to Ms posterity. Corporations, wMch have
a perpetual succession, and hereditary noblesse, who
themselves exist by succession, are the true guardians
of monarcMcal succession. On such orders and
institutions alone an hereditary monarchy can stand.
What they call Democratie RoydLe in Eranee, is
laughed at by the very authors as an absurd cMmera.
Where all things are elective, you may call a king
hereditary, but he is for the present a cipher; and

302 EDMUND BURKE [1791

the succession is not supported by any analogy in the
state, nor combined with any sentiments whatsoever
existing in the minds of the people. It is a solitary,
unsupported, anomalous thing.

The story you tell of the Chartreux in the time of
Charles the Fifth, may be true for anything I know
to the contrary. But what inference can be drawn
from it ? Why should it be necessary to influence
the people, at such a time as this, to rob the Chartreux
who had no hand in that murder ? Were the Char-
treux, that I have seen at Paris, employed in com-
mitting or meditating murders ? Are they so at
La Trappe, or at the Grande Chartreuse, or anywhere
else ? Inferences will be made from such a story ;
I don't mean logical, but practical inferences, which
will harden the hearts of men in this age of spoil, not
only against them, but against a considerable portion
of the human race. Some of these monks, in a sudden
transport of fury, murdered somebody in the time of
Charles the Fifth. What then ? I am certain that
not only in the time of Charles the Kfth, but now and
at all times, and in all countries, and in the bosom of
the dearest relations of life, the most dreadful
tragedies have been, and are daily acted. Is it right
to bring forth these examples to make us abhor these
relations ?

You observe that a sequestration from the con-
nexions of society, makes the heart cold and unfeeling.
I believe it may have that tendency, though this is
more than I find to be fact, from the result of my
observations and inquiries. But in the theory, it
seems probable. However, as the greatest crimes do
not arise so much from a want of feeling for others,
as from an over-sensibility for ourselves, and an over-
indulgence to our own desires, very sequestered people,
(such as the Chartreux,) as they are less touched with
the sympathies which soften the manners, are less
engaged in the passions whch agitate the mind. The
best virtues can hardly be found among them ; but
crimes must be more rare in that form of society, than

1791] TO THE CHEVALIER DE RIVABOL 303

in the active world. If I were to trust to my observa-
tion and give a verdict on it, I must depose tliat, in
my experience, I have found that those who were
most indulgent to themselves were (in the mass) less
kind to others, than those who have lived a lif e nearer
to self-denial. I go farther. In my experience I have
observed, that a luxurious softness of manners
hardens the heart, at least as much as an overdone
abstinence. I question much whether moral policy
will justify us in an endeavour to interest the heart
in favour of immoral, irregular, and illegal actions, on
account of particular touching circumstances that may
happen to attend the commission or the punishment of
them. I know poets are apt enough to choose such
subjects, in order to excite the high relish arising from
the mixed sensations which will arise in that anxious
embarrassment of the mind, whenever it finds itself
in a locality where vices and virtues meet near their
confines, where

Mire sagaces f alleret hospites

Discrimen obscurum.

I think, of late, that the Parisian philosophers have
done upon meditated system, what the poets are
naturally led to by a desire of nattering the passions.
To you, as a poet, this is to be allowed. To philo-
sophers, one cannot be so indulgent. For, perhaps,
ladies ought not to love too well, like the Phsedras
and Myrrhas of old, or the ancient or modern Eloises.
They had better not pursue their lovers into convents
of Carthusians, nor follow them in disguise to camps
and slaughter-houses. But I have observed that the
philosophers, in order to insinuate their polluted
atheism into young minds, systematically flatter all
their passions, natural and unnatural. They explode,
or render odious or contemptible, that class of virtues
which restrain the appetite. These are at least nine
out of ten of the virtues. In the place of all this,
they substitute a virtue which they call humanity or
benevolence. By these means their morality has no

304 EDMUND BURKE [1791

idea in it of restraint, or indeed of a distinct settled
principle of any kind. When their disciples are thus
left free, and guided only by present feeling, they
are no longer to be depended upon for good or evil.
The men who, to-day, snatch the worst criminals
from justice, will murder the most innocent persons
to-morrow.

EDM. BURKE.

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BUKKE TO RICHARD
BURKE, JUN., ESQ.

August 16, 1791.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,

Your mother and I had a satisfaction which none
but a son like you could enter into, upon our finding
on our return to town last night your letter from
Brussels. I had no doubt your reception would be
what at first it was, on your family account, and what
afterwards it was, on your own.

I shall perfectly keep secret all that you have
told me, from all manner of persons. I ought to be
cautious of seeking the ministers upon this business,
because they have made no advances whatsoever to
me on the subject ; no, not so much as to thank me
for my pamphlet. It is plain to me, that whatsoever
the reason may be, they make use of the greatest
reserve upon the subject, and that the diplomatic
people hear nothing from them, with regard to it, that
is not very ambiguous. I am really afraid to converse
with them, and my fears extend to you. I think,
indeed, your situation to be as delicate as one's
imagination can represent anything. You have no
confidence here, and no authority of any sort, except
to communicate what you hear, with the assurance of
some general good wishes towards the cause you
adhere to. If those you correspond with here did
enter heartily into your scheme of politics, your com-
munications might enable them to forward what
you mutually propose. If, on the contrary, their

1791] TO RICHARD BURKE, JOT. 305

politics should take a different turn, in giving intelli-
gence to them, you are unknowingly acting as a spy
upon those whom your whole soul is set upon serving.
This would be a situation of all others the most hornd ;
that of betraying by being betrayed. It is not that
I altogether distrust the dispositions of this adminis-
tration ; but the consequences of acting under those
whose designs are uncertain, or who, in reality, may
not be masters of their own designs, to my eyes, and
will to yours, appear so perilous, that too many pre-
cautions cannot be used in your communications in
anything which relates to this court, either with the
leaders of the French royalists or with this ministry.
It is dangerous for you fully to trust those by whom
you are not fully trusted ; and, whilst you give to
the worthy persecuted persons you converse with in
all sincerity, your advice, to the best of the faculties
God has dispensed to you, you will take care how you
excite in their minds any hopes, which neither you
nor I have any probable prospect to see realized.
My apprehensions are somewhat roused by a discourse
I have had related to me from the Russian ambassador.
He says (supposing my author right) that his court is
perfectly well-disposed to the King of France, but
that the King of Prussia's disposition, and those of
his ministers, both at Berlin and at foreign courts, is
very equivocal, to say the best of it : That he prevents
the conclusion of the peace, and the relief intended by
other powers, and that our court does not sway that
of Prussia, but the contrary, whatever appearances
may be : That Mr* Pitt is secretly in the democratic
interest, or, at least, wishes it to exist, in order to
make it, in some way or other, subservient to his
designs ; and that for that end, he keeps up the
present armament, when the apparent objects for
which he armed no longer exist : That M. de Calonne
lately made a very indiscreet visit here ; and, without
Mr. Pitt's having given him any other encouragement
than that of civil language, and of very general
assurances, he laid himself perfectly open to Mm, and

306 EDMUND BUKKE [1791

communicated to him every part of the measures
taken or proposed, on the part of the exiled princes,
and on that of the powers who were willing to engage
in their favour : That Mr. Pitt has kept Hugh Elliot
from his court, where his presence might at this season
be of the greatest moment ; that he is a declared
democrat (this I know to be true), and has been sent
confidentially to Paris, where he has conversed with
Barnave, &c. &c. &c.

I allow, in this account, for something that may
be overcharged from the ill-humour of the Bussian
minister at this time ; still, however, it tallies too
much with appearances to be entirely overlooked.
There is a little, busy, meddling man, little heard of
till lately, a Mr. Ewart, who has married, I am told,
a Prussian. He had found the means of ingratiating
himself with the late minister, Hertsberg, by verbal
and practical flatteries ; and is likely to do the same
with his successor. He is said to avail himself, with
each of the courts, of his influence with the others ;
and by his mutually playing their games, or rather
Ms own, to obtain ribbons, pensions, titles, and other
rewards, according to the fashion of this diplomatic
season. I 'have reason to believe, that the fear of the
French faction here begins to wear out of the minds
of ministers ; and, as it does, they grow more in-
different about its prevalence elsewhere. Perhaps
they are not sorry for its progress in other parts, as it
may tend to keep other powers in fear for their own
safety, and mutually embroiled with each other.
This is, indeed, a very vulgar and very false policy ;
but its vulgarity gives it an easy reception. I have
been long persuaded, that those in power here,
instead of governing their ministers at foreign courts,
are entirely swayed by them. That corps has no one
point of manly policy in their whole system ; they
are a corps of intriguers, who, sooner or later, will
turn our offices into an academy of cabal and con-
fusion. The single point upon which all our policy in
this business turns, is, whether, if the French can

1791] TO RICHARD BURKE,*JUK 307

establish their scheme, so as to give it any kind of
firmness and duration, we can rationally expect to
preserve our constitution and domestic tranquillity
for any considerable length of time ? Our minds are
made up on this question ; theirs seem to be governed
by the humours of the people here, and their com-
plexion at every period, and are, therefore, constantly
varying. This gives, occasionally, a great advantage
to those who make the Russian objects not, what they
ought to be, secondary to this great scheme of European
policy, that of preserving things in their actual
condition, but 'principal. The King of Prussia
certainly has objects, of which he will not readily lose
sight. I do not suspect that our court will directly
go to war with any power whatsoever, to enable him
to accomplish his designs ; but what I apprehend is,
that they will think, that by keeping themselves in
a state of ambiguous neutrality, neither distinctly
encouraging, nor directly declaring against the activity
of other powers, they may be able to give the law to
those sovereigns, when they are so implicated in this
business as to find it impossible to retreat ; and thus
to compass the King of Prussia's objects, without
formally involving themselves in a war. I am not
without a suspicion of something of this sort ; I cannot
conceive for what other purpose the armament is
kept up. It cannot influence the Russian treaty, or
the congress of Sistova ; because it is plain that this
year it cannot go into the Baltic, and where else is it
to act ? It certainly is not meant to assist the powers
who are allied for the support of the monarchies and
republics of Europe, against the system of universal
sedition professed in France. I cannot believe that
it is designed against them. I can, therefore, divine
no other reason for its being kept in force, but in
order to watch events ; and to act even in favour of
the French usurpation, if collateral objects might be
compassed by it. Yet when I consider the known
disposition of the king and the prince, the clear
interest of the monarchy, the joy expressed by the

308 EDMUND BURKE [1791

ministers, in common with that of all honest men, at
the King of France's escape, and their confusion and
consternation on his being apprehended, I can hardly
persuade myself, that, for a town or two to be obtained
by the King of Prussia, they will hazard the very being
of every state of Europe, our own included. However,
I am sure that the whole of the appearances are so
uncertain, that from a regard to your honour, and the
fidelity you will wish to preserve to the great trust
that is reposed in you, until some authentic declaration
is made of an amicable neutrality, or till you hear
from me, you will be cautious what you communicate
to office here ; and that you will, indeed, communicate
nothing without the, previous consent of the parties
interested; professing your opinion of the possibility
of this court not being cordially with them. All this,
however, must be subject to your discretion in some
degree. Your caution is not to defeat the object
which you had in your journey, and which you have
so near your heart ; which I earnestly pray you may
keep near to it, as long as events shall render such an
attachment consistent with the state of the world.
This league is for the preservation of that state of
things in Europe, to which we owe all that we are,
and which furnished just grounds of expectation for
further and safe improvement. The foundation of
this league is just and honest. But if it must go, we
must not struggle with the order of Providence, nor
contrive our matters so ill, that, as Cicero says, whilst
we are struggling to be in the republic of Plato, we
may find ourselves in no republic at all.

I perfectly agree with you, that the manifesto ought
to accompany the act, or at least to precede it but
a little. Perhaps some movements ought to precede
the manifesto, such as that of the King of Sweden
to Ms minister, which I think to be exceedingly well
done, and to be not at all ill-timed. The manifesto
certainly ought, as you observe, to turn much more
upon the benefit of the people ; on good order, religion,
morality, security, and property, than upon the rights

1791] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUN. 309

of sovereigns. Previous to it, or along with it, ought
to be published, strong collections of cases and facts
of the cruelties, persecutions, and desolations produced
by this revolution, in a popular style ; which, for
being simple and popular, will not be the less eloquent
and impressive. In stating the treatment of the
ecclesiastics who have suffered most, as many par-
ticulars of their indigence, by reduction, slack or
non-payment, or the like, ought to be brought forth.
Particulars make impressions. This may be cooked
up a hundred different ways. Imprisonments under
the new, ought to be compared with those under the
old regimen, &c. &c. For a plan of the manifesto,
quere ? Whether it might not be necessary to begin
by stating that the fundamental constitution of
France was a monarchy ; (and that the country had
been powerful and prosperous under it ;) that France
had been always taken and understood as a monarchy ;
and that, with its monarchy, all the treaties now
existing were formed ; that these treaties (especially
those which stipulated close friendship) imply at
least the choice of a guarantee to the monarchy, and
security to the monarch, against foreign force or
domestic rebellion. Strongly to state the rebellion,
its nature ; provoked by no oppression, no grievance
supported, no offender protected ; full of treachery, as
applying the powers derived from the crown to its
destruction; and when called to strengthen his
government, perfidiously subverting it ; an entire
usurpation ; that certain orders and ranks were in
the essence of the French constitution, and highly
beneficial to the nation ; that a certain established
religion, with certain legal possessions, were the
old common law of France ; a judicature arising
from the authority of the throne, also of immemorial
usage, of great benefit ; all these subverted : Then,
the grievances under the new constitution; the dis-
appearance of money, from the insecurity of property ;
the fraudulent and insolvent scheme of a paper
currency : Then, all .the grievances of the new regi-

310 EDMUND BURKE [1791

men : An assurance that they mean nothing against
the true ancient rights, liberties, and privileges of the
people, or anything which the public wisdom, acting
without restraint, may contrive for their further
benefit : That it is for that very purpose the restoration
of the king and monarchy is desired. Remember
always, that the tyranny of the present usurping
government be principally insisted on.

I told you that the ministers had taken no notice
of my book. It was then true. But this day I have
had the enclosed civil note from Dundas. The success
of this last pamphlet is great indeed. 1 Every one
tells me that it is thought much better than the
former. 2 I have no objection to their thinking so ;
but it is not my opinion. It may, however, be more
useful. 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 Pox.
As to me, they leave me to myself ; they see that
I can do myself justice. Dodsley is preparing a third
edition ; the second I have corrected.

Since I wrote the two first sheets I have seen
Mr. Dundas, and have received a most complete and
satisfactory assurance of the neutrality, at least
amicable, of this court. To say the truth, I asked
him his opinion directly, and without management.
But he set me quite at my ease, not only with regard
to himself, but to every sub-division of the ministry,
who all agreed, and very heartily, in this point. He
went further, and said that the King of Prussia was
not only well-disposed, but hearty, in the same cause.
A letter which Adey 3 received from St. Leger spoke
such language on the subject as prepared me for this
very good account. I doubt, on the whole, whether
the Emperor is more in earnest than he. All thought
of an increase of territory on the side of Poland, for

1 Appealjrom the New to the Old Whigs.

2 Reflections on the Revolution in France.

3 Stephen Thurston Adey, afterwards Member of Par-
liament for Higham Ferrers.

1791] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUN. 311

the present at least, is completely given up ; , and it
is thought that he and the Emperor are come to
a perfectly good understanding with each other.
You see our armament is laid up. The king is himself
(and I confess, considering everything, it is highly
generous, and wise, too, in him) most earnest in favour
of this cause of sovereigns. He is constantly asking
whether the King of France will be firm, and reject
the constitution. In short, everything external is as
favourable to these unhappy persecuted people 1 as
possible ; but through weakness, irresolution, and the
spirit of intrigue, they betray themselves their own
garrison. The enclosed letter, from our Paris corre-
spondent, will show you where the danger lies. That
most unfortunate woman 2 is not to be cured of the
spirit of court intrigue, even by a prison ; and it is
certain that all miserable people, whose spirits are
become abject by calamities and insults, grow out of
humour with their friends ; and, as the mind must
be fed with some sort of hope, begin to repose theirs in
their enemies. All low politicians aim at working
with their adversaries, by which means they give them
strength, and become their prey. She is not to be
cured of the politics of Brienne ; and as all people
of honour are fled, she is wholly in the hands of those
who profess to save her from the last evils in her
situation, and by overcharging her danger, get her to
put herself into the hands of those who will engage to
free her at the price of abandoning those of whose
success she is jealous. On the 25th they are to propose
this constitution of theirs to the king. They have
already relaxed his chains, and they mean to put him
(nominally, to be sure) at complete liberty. They
have reconciled him to La Fayette. People do not
doubt but that he will accept. I sketched a few hints
to be sent to her by the Duke of Dorset. He thinks
he can get a perfectly safe hand.

After all, if this unfortunate pair should put the

1 The King and Queen of France.

2 The Queen of France.

312 EDMUND BURKE [1791

last hand to their disgrace and degradation, the
honest and spirited part of the French nation, who
must then act in trust for the whole, know very well
that the monarchy of France is not in the disposal
of any one of its kings ; and that he cannot, even
by his freest consent, destroy Ms throne, his nobility,
his church, his tribunals, his corporations, Ms orders,
and the general tenure of property among his sub-
jects : That he has no assembly competent to repre-
sent the nation : That this assembly is a manifest
usurpation, and had obtained its power by frauds,
violences, and crimes: That their constitution, to
which they will pretend the free consent of the king,
had been before presented to him, part by part, in
detail ; that he had consented to them ; that, after-
wards, he had declared that consent to have been
extorted by terror ; and that, at the time, he had
been a prisoner. Has he been less so since that
declaration ? And can it be presumed that he
approves, in the whole, that thing which, after having
approved in the parts, he has afterwards disowned in
the whole and all the parts ? This last act, instead of
being a proof of his liberty, is a tenfold proof of his
slavery. And even if he were really and truly at
liberty, yet Ms mind having been completely broken
by repeated previous insults, and now under terrors
by the strength of a faction still calling for his life
through a trial, and Ms cMld having been actually
taken from Mm, and held as an hostage, no act of
Ms can or ought to be considered as that of a king of
France ; separated from Ms family, from all the
princes of Ms blood, Ms noblesse, and the magistrates
of Ms parliaments, the natural friends and constitu-
tional guardians of the rights of the crown. I tMnk
they 1 ought, after such a step, not to lose a moment,
but to protest against the act, as under constraint,
and as invalid in itself, if free. To renew their alle-
giance to Mm, their declaration of fidelity to the
fundamental laws, and to the nation, properly under-
1 The French princes.

1791] TO RICHABD BURKE, JUN. SIS

stood and constitutionally represented; to call the
scattered members of the parliament together; to
assume the regency ; to call upon those allied in blood,
interest, and friendship, with the crown of France, to
assist them ; and to act without the least regard to
what he may seem to have done. This is my fixed
opinion ; and they ought not to be frightened with the
voice of those people who, between weakness of nerves
and want of fixed principles of morals and politics,
betray every cause that they have in hand. How
come these fierce republicans, even the very firebrands
of the Jacobins, all at once to pretend this affection
to royalty, but in order to betray it more effectually
through the means of the stuffed skin of a monarch ?

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 reception. He told me
that he did not think anything could be added to
what I had first written ; but he saw he was mistaken,
that there was very much added, and new, and
important, and, what was most material, what could
not be answered. He then asked me whether I had
seen that scheme of absurdity, the French constitu-
tion, and what I thought of it. I told him I had seen
all the flowers separately, and did not like them
better now that I had seen them tied up in one
bouquet ; I told him that the absurdity of this usurpa-
tion would do its own business, if not prevented by
the weakness of one man. After the levee, he asked
Dundas who he thought was the one man I meant,
whether it was the king ? He said he believed it was,
as it was most certainly. I had afterwards a conversa-
tion with Dundas at his office. ....

I send this through some hand that he provides.
I think it better to send you a paequet of all our
letters than to detail their contents. I dine to-morrow
at Dundas's with Mr. Pitt and Sir David Dalrymple.

The taking away the Dauphin ought to be much

314 EDMUND BURKE [1791

insisted on ; the giving him into the hands of the
known enemies of the Crown as guardians ; the
choosing as preceptor, Condorcet, the most furious
of the heads of the Jacobin club, and a known enemy
and despiser of the Christian religion, to educate
the most Christian king; the very same turbulent
and seditious libeller whom, without naming, they
have alluded to as such in all their debates, and have
accordingly suspended the effect of their ballot. Their
disposition, however, has not been the less shown,
because their quarrel prevented the execution of their
intentions. By the way, though not connected with
this, when the king's consent is talked of, of what
importance is it, when his negative is taken away
wholly, and only amounts to a time for deliberation,
whether he assents or not, to any law whatsoever ?

The question is higher still in this case : Whether
they have a right to suppose the king as in a moment
of election, and to offer him the crown on just what
terms they please ? This is to suppose the crown
elective, to all intents and purposes. Take this, or
you are not to reign 1 ......

The following memorandum was found amongst Burke' s
papers, indorsed as follows by himself.

Sketch of a letter to the late Queen of France, to
be sent through the Comte de Merci Argenteau. But
he pretended that it would make too large a pacquet
for him to risk. He only sent two or three of the last
lines, if he sent any. I suspect he did not enter very
warmly into my sentiments ; indeed, I am sure he did
not.

E. B.

Circumstances require that my words should be
few; my sentiments demand that they should be
faithful ; they cannot be ceremonious.

1 The passages omitted in this letter relate to private
affairs.

1791] TO THE QUEEN OF FRANCE 315

Since the commencement of these troubles, you
had a part to act which has fixed the eyes of the
world upon you. You have suffered much affliction,
but you have obtained great glory. Your conduct at
this great crisis "will determine whether the glory is
to continue and the affliction to cease, or whether
affliction and shame together are to attend on your
life and your memory, as long as both shall last.
Your place, your dangers, your interest, your fame,
the great objects of your fears and hopes, will
not suffer your conduct to be governed by little
politics.

It cannot be supposed for an instant, that you can
think of recommending any settlement whatsoever,
which must dishonour, proscribe, and banish all the
king's friends, and those of the monarchy and the
church ; and to place the whole power of the kingdom
in the hands of their known enemies, who have never
omitted any indignity or insult to your person, or
your fame, and have made several attempts on your
life.

For God's sake, have nothing to do with traitors.
Those men who have been the authors of your common
ruin, can never be seriously disposed to restore the
nation, the king, yourself, or your children. If they
had the inclination, their power has not solidity, con-
sistency, or means of permanence sufficient, to enable
them to keep any engagements they may seem to
make with you. Their whole power is to hurt you ;
to serve you they have none.

If the king accepts their pretended constitution,
you are both of you undone for ever. The greatest
powers in Europe are hastening to your rescue. They
all desire it. You can never think this a time for
surrendering yourself to traitors, along with the rights
of all the sovereigns aDied to you, and whose cause is
involved in yours.

You will be told by intriguing people, that your
own personal influence and consideration will be
swallowed up in that of the faithful princes and

316 EDMUND BURKE [1791

nobility who have abandoned their country in the
royal cause, and who now risk all that remains of their
fortunes and their hopes for your relief . No, madam !
Faithful souls do not know what it is to be insolent
and overbearing. These are the qualities of the
persons who rule at present. The loyal French will
consider your patience and fortitude as an ample
contingent contributed to the general cause ; and
your claim to influence will not be only as the queen,
but as the deliverer of France.

But if (which God forbid) your majesty should be
persuaded by mischievous caballers to do anything
which may confirm and fix the power of traitors,
they will not use it in favour of your majesty, of the
king, or of your royal offspring which they have torn
out of your bosom. No 1 The king will have no
real authority whatsoever; and what shadow of it
may be allotted to his name, will be employed for
their own purposes, by those men who have given it,
and who, when they please, may resume it. But
those faithful subjects who wish to restore the king,
not to nominal, but to real power, know very well that,
when they have succeeded in their design, their very
success must make them dependent upon him.

The intriguers will tell your majesty that all men
are alike, and that the Barnaves, the Lameths, the
Chapeliers, and the La Fayettes, are as good as any
other, if they can be made serviceable to you. This
is a most fatal error. All men are not courtiers or
chicaners ; or, if it were true that we are all evil, the
interests of some men are more connected with yours
than that of others.

Madam, all is in your hands. The moment you
begin to negotiate with the traitors, you lose your
greatest strength, which is wholly in patience, firm-
ness, silence, and refusal. You cannot take an active
measure which does not lead to destruction.

Madam, warm zeal will sometimes be an excuse
for presumptuous intrusion. This paper goes to
your majesty from a foreigner, but from one who has

1791] TO THE QUEEN OF FRANCE 317

given the only proof in his power of his sincere admira-
tion of your virtues, and of his hearty devotion to
your interests.

Note in Burke* s handwriting :

[N.B. This is the rough draft. Some alterations
were made ; none affecting the subject.]

THE RIGHT HOST. EDMUND BURKE TO RICHARD
BURKE, JUNIOR, ESQ.
September 26, 1791, Monday morning.

I WRITE to you from a consideration of the possi-
bility that you have changed your mind, and are still
at Coblentz.

An expression in the short note I received from
Monsieur de Calonne makes me imagine that you are
on your journey hither ; though I was in hopes, from
what you had written by Nagle, that you would not
move until you should hear from us, and had left
our judgement to operate on that measure ; we still,
either your uncle or myself, wrote to you, letter after
letter, to desire you to stay at Coblentz, until we
should see your presence to be more useful here than
there. You might be sure, that though my hopes
were not very lively, my endeavours would be con-
tinual. As soon as I got your letter, without losing
a moment's time, I went to Mr. Dundas. Disappointed
in my expectation of meeting him at Wimbledon,
last Sunday morning, (se'nnight) I stayed in town
till Tuesday, when I saw him. We had some" dis-
course, the result of which you have in a short letter
from, him, and a long one which, with several papers
and letters, I sent by his packet. That letter informed
you of the state of things to that moment. He
recommended me to write the whole of the conversa-
tion I had with him, to Lord GrenviUe, then at Wey-
mouth. It was Lord G.'s department ; and I had
reason to think the disposition of all the ministers
pretty equally favourable to the cause, as far as they
would go. It was something Jo know that they had
never given the pretended answer to the Emperor's

318 EDMUND BURKE [1791

declaration. You will see presently, out of "what
materials that pretended answer was made. On my
return to the country, I wrote to Lord Grenville. He
received the letter on his way to town ; and imme-
diately on his arrival here, wrote to me in a very
obliging manner, that he would be glad that I should
talk over the matter with him and Mr. Pitt; that
they dined without company, and would be glad to
see me. I came to town that day, saw them, and dined
with them. Our discourse continued until eleven
o'clock. We talked the whole matter over very
calmly, and it was discussed, on my part, as fully as
my faculties gave me leave to do. I found that there
was no moving them from their idea of a neutrality ;
therefore, I did not labour this point. My view was
to get over ^radically the difficulty which they made
with regard to the solicitation of any other powers,
which was contained in the declaration of Mr. Aust,
(first clerk in Lord Grenville's office,) to the Chevalier
de la Bintinnaye, made by Lord G.'s directions before
his return to town ; and which was, if I recollect right,
contained in the king's letter to Monsieur, of which
a copy was communicated to the chevalier. As to
anything to be done with regard to a solicitation of
the Emperor, I soon found it fruitless to attempt it.
Their ill opinion of his intentions seems immovable.
They are convinced that he is resolved not to give
the princes, at any time, any assistance whatsoever.
I therefore thought, (what I had rolled in my mind
before,) that the true place of application would be
to the King of Prussia, who I am convinced is infinitely
more in earnest than the Emperor. He has been led
to take his part at the solicitation of the Emperor.
He has declared himself a joint party with him. He
has thrown off all appearance of neutrality, and put
himself ill with the new power rising in France, at his
original requisition ; and he has a right to call upon
the Emperor not to leave him in the lurch on account
of difficulties thrown in, his way by this court, which
have no existence. I proposed that they should,

1791] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUN. 319

without appearing directly in it, send some person of
confidence to Berlin, to suggest this to the King of
Prussia, without going through the official channel ;
and for the execution of this plan, I proposed you,
excluding the idea of any salary, gratuity, "reward, or
office whatsoever, or the promise or hope of such
a thing. To this I had no answer. Our discussions
were too extensive to admit my writing them to you ;
I wish rather to give you the result of them ; and to
tell you the temper in which I found and left the two
ministers. They are certainly right as to their general
inclinations ; perfectly so, I have not a shadow of
doubt ; but at the same time, they are cold and dead
as to any attempt whatsoever to give them effect.
Two causes seem to have produced in them this cold-
ness : the first, that they seem to be quite out of all
apprehensions of any effect from the French revolution
on this kingdom, either at present, or at any time to
come : the next, their rooted opinion of the settled
systematic ill disposition of the Emperor. As to the
first, you know my fixed opinion ; and I did not fail
to lay the grounds upon which I formed it before them :
as to the last, I referred it to their consideration,
whether the conduct of the Emperor was not rather
owing to some complexional inconstancy, and to the
little occasional intrigues with the Louvre, than to
any fixed, premeditated scheme of treachery. I am
sure this is a fair hypothesis ; and it is what I believe
to be true. They entertained an opinion, in which,
whilst they condemned the Emperor for pretending
it, (not thinking it his true motive for delay,) they
concurred at bottom with him; that is, that the
present is not the fit time for acting ; that a bank-
ruptcy, which appears inevitable, would ruin the
assembly in the opinion of the stockholders and of the
Parisians, and would create much discontent and
confusion through the kingdom. I entered very fully
into the effect of such a bankruptcy, particularly in
the present state of the French funds ; that I ex-
pected no good from it, if it were even to happen

320 EDMUND BUEKE [1791

at any assignable period ; that to make the invasion
synchronize with that bankruptcy, might not be so
easy ; that now they had Europe in a situation in
which it never stood before, and might never be
again ; a general peace among the powers, and a
general good disposition to support the common cause
of order and government. I found too, that they
thought the Netherlands in such a situation, that it
would not be safe for the Emperor to withdraw his
army from them. I confess I never hear this without
astonishment. I thought the danger to consist in his
keeping so great an army inactive in that situation.
I used your arguments, and many more that occurred
to me ; and on the whole discussion, I do not think
a topic escaped me. They were patient and good-
humoured ; and to myself, personally, I thought far
from unfavourable. Every now and then I seemed
to make an impression on them, and that not slightly ;
but the next morning, when the Chevalier de la Bin-
tinnaye had his audience of Lord Grenville, in which
he was well received, the general answer was just that
which had been before given by Mr. Aust, without any
variation whatsoever. In the conversation, Lord
Grenville denied positively that he had put anything
like a condition on the Emperor, or any limitation
whatsoever. That all he said was a mere opinion,
stated in discourse with the imperial minister : c that
in the actual state of the Netherlands, it might not
be expedient, for the general tranquillity, to leave
them without troops.' This, merely as the expression
of a sentiment, without any -sort of stipulation, ex-
pressed or implied. The Emperor is plainly at liberty,
and his delay does not lie at our door. As to the
Comte de Mercy, they told me that they had not had
a single word of political conversation with him ;
that they did not shun it, but they left him to begin
it ; which, as he never did, they, on their part, said
nothing. It was from me that they first learned that
he attributed the Emperor's inaction (which he stated
as a resolution) to the ambiguous conduct and

1791] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUK 321

language of our court. In none of their conversations
about the Low-Country troops, did they, that I can
find, say anything of the number to be kept there.
They left him to himself. They declared a neutrality,
I believe, as clearly and definitely, to the imperial
minister, as they have done to the agent of the Bourbon
princes. I am sorry it is so very literally a neutrality ;
but such as it is, their having so completely disarmed, is
a proof worth ten thousand declarations, that they do
not mean to give any assistance, directly or indirectly,
to this French system ; even if the imperial court
could think our court unadvised enough to give its
hand to the establishment of a fanatical democracy
just at its door. The truth is, I am afraid, that the
Emperor and some of his ministers, though they do
not approve (as they cannot approve) of the destruction
of the monarchy, are infinitely pleased with the
robbery of the church property, and the humiliation of
the gentry ; and that, in that lust of philosophical
spoliation and equalization, he forgets that he cuts
down the supports of monarchy, and, indeed, destroys
those principles of property, order, and regularity,
for which alone any rational man can wish monarchy
to exist. But the difference among the race who have
got the present education, is only, whether the same
robbery is to be committed by the despotism of an
individual, or that of a multitude ; and, therefore,
that the Emperor has made the parade of a threatening,
and of a threatening only, that this vile assembly
may be induced to treat, to secure some affluence and
liberty to the king and queen, leaving the church
robbed, and the nobility beggared and degraded.
This is what we fear. It is what we ought to do our
best to prevent, and to engage the Emperor in a system
of politics more conformable to the true interests,
rights, and duties, of sovereigns. I have read the
declaration of the Bourbon princes. You have, if
you are still at Coblentz, by this, a very rude sketch
of a bill of rights, which ought to be agreed to in
a general meeting of princes, nobles, and magistrates

237 M

322 EDMUND BURKE [1791

I think it well penned, and in many points very right
and proper. But the ton is not just what one would
wish in all points. In some things it is dangerously
defective. They ought to promise distinctly and
without ambiguity, that they mean, when the
monarchy, as the essential basis, shall be restored, to
secure with it a free constitution ; and that for this
purpose they will cause, at a meeting of the states,
freely chosen, according to the ancient legal order, to
vote by order, all Lettres de Cachet, and other means
of arbitrary imprisonment, to be abolished. That
all taxation shall be by the said states, conjointly
with the king. That responsibility shall be estab-
lished, and the public revenue put out of the power of
abuse and malversation ; a canonical synod of the
Gallican church to reform all abuses ; and (as
unfortunately the king has lost all reputation) they
should pledge themselves, with their lives and for-
tunes, to support, along with their king, those con-
ditions and that wise order, which can alone support
a free and vigorous government. Without such
a declaration, or to that effect, they can hope no
converts. For my part, for one, though I make no
doubt of preferring the ancient course, or almost any
other, to this vile chimera, and sick man's dream of
government, yet I could not actively, or with a good
heart and clear conscience, go to the re-establishment
of a monarchical despotism in the place of this system
of anarchy. I should think myself obliged to with-
draw myself wholly from such a competition, and
give repose to my age, as I should wish you to give
other employment to your youth. I wish you to stay
where you are ; the Bintinnayes work well. They
are steady, sensible, and have business-like heads,
and are indefatigable. They are well received. They
are preparing another memorial. We shall not be
negligent ; no stone will be left unturned. You may
be infinitely more useful where you are ; you have
more resources and more activity than I have ; but
I have more authority here, and that turns the balance.
But do as you please ; I shall think it for the best.

1792] TO EICHAED BURKE, JUN. 323

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE TO RICHARD
BURKE, JUNIOR, ESQ.

January 26, 1792.
MY DEAREST RICHARD,

Though we should be happy in hearing from you
often, yet when we know that you are well, the first
object of our wish is accomplished. We should hear
from you if you had anything pleasant to tell. Though
we have nothing from you, we hear on all hands that
the Castle has omitted nothing to break that line of
policy which government has pursued as opportunity
offered from the beginning of the present reign :
that, I mean, of wearing out the vestiges of conquest,
and settling all descriptions of people on the bottom
of one protecting and constitutional system. But by
what I learn, the Castle has another system, and
considers the outlawry (or what at least I look on
as such) of the great mass of the people as an unalter-
able maxim in the government of Ireland. If I con-
sidered only the interest of that mass of the people,
I should be indifferent about their loss of their just,
rational, and wise object of pursuit during this session.
They will have it, because the nature of things will
do it. What vexes me is, that it will not be done in
the best, the most gracious, the most conciliatory, and
the most politic mode. In the present state of
Europe, in which the state of these kingdoms is
included, it is of infinite moment that matters of grace
should emanate from the old sovereign authority.
The harmony of the two kingdoms requires that the
king's government should not stand chargeable with
anything prescriptive or oppressive, or which, leans
with a weight of odium and prejudice on any quiet
description of his subjects. Above all, it requires
that no harsh measure should seem the result of any
unalterable principle of his government; for that
would be to leave the people no hope from that
quarter, from which alone I should wish them to hope
everything. But I shall not trouble you or myself
further with what neither you nor I can help.

324 EDMUND BURKE [1792

Cazal&s goes off shortly. His spirits have been
greatly sunk ; I do not wonder at it. The madness,
the wickedness, the malice, and the folly, of the
greatest part of Germany, is not to be expressed.
The Duke of Wurtemburg takes the lead in Suabia
against the persecuted nobility of Prance, who are
hunted from place to place like so many wild boars.
The Bintinnayes are well, but in the same state of
dejection as Cazal&s.

I wish that in the unpleasant view of public affairs,
we were compensated by anything cheerful with
regard to our narrower circle. Thank God ! with
regard to this house, all is well, or perhaps better than
you left it. Your mother, your uncle, and all of us, in
the best health. Our poor friend Sir Joshua declines
daily. For some time past he has kept his bed. His
legs, and all his body, swell extremely; yet his
physicians are by no means sure that the case is
dropsical. I have been twice called to town by very
alarming letters from poor Miss Palmer, who feared
that the worst was more nearly at hand than it was.
I returned from my second journey yesterday. He
was somewhat better when I left town, and this
morning we had an account of the event of the day
after I had left him. He still continued in appearance
to mend. The swelling had abated. He takes great
doses of laudanum. At times he has pain ; but for the
most part he is tolerably easy. Nothing can equal the
tranquillity with which he views his end. He con-
gratulates himself on it as a happy conclusion of
a happy life. He spoke of you in a style which was
affecting. I don't believe there are any persons he
valued more sincerely than you and your mother.
Surely it is well returned by you both. Mary and the
captain salute you, and the friends they know in
Dublin. Your mother's affectionate blessing. May
God always protect you 1

Ever, ever, my dearest Richard,

Your affectionate father,
EDM. BURKE,

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 325

THE BIGHT HON. EDMUND BTJEKE TO WILLIAM
WEDDELL, 1 ESQ.

Beaconsfield. January 31, 1792,

Late at night.
MY DEAR SIR,

ISTot less than twenty times, I verily believe, have
I taken up my pen to write to you something which
was suggested to me by your most friendly and
obliging letter. But because I had too much to say,
I have said nothing at all. Your letter, indeed, did
not absolutely require an answer. My best thanks
were certainly your due ; but I hoped that the same
partial goodness which dictated your letter, would
presume that I entertained becoming and natural
sentiments on your conduct towards me under the
dereliction of so many of my old acquaintance. To
thank you was all that I was called upon to do ; and,
for not doing this, I stand in need of some apology.
But, as, along with your friendly expressions of
personal kindness, some topics were touched upon that
made an impression on my mind, so many thoughts
crowded upon me, both with relation to the party by
which I had been disclaimed, and with relation to the
country with which my ties cannot be dissolved,
that I feared, if I should touch upon them, I should
be drawn on to write, not a long letter, but a tedious
dissertation. 'Whilst I was on the Terrace of
Windsor, I little thought of what was going on at
York.' Most certainly I did not. As to the reception
of Mr. Fox, with aft the circumstances of honour
according to their several modes, by the Corporation
and the people of York, if this had been done to efface
the impressions which had been made upon many by
the conduct of several persons in that city and county
in the year 1784, I should have been exceedingly

1 Member of Parliament for Malton.

326 EDMUND BURKE [1792

pleased. 1 I should have found but one thing to
regret, which was, that their returning sentiments
of approbation did not extend further. I should have
thought, if that had been the object of those demon-
strations of their attachment to Mr. Pox, it would not
have been amiss if they had shown some marks of
respect, at the same time, to yourself, to Lord John
Cavendish, and to Mr. Foljambe. The assertion of
the principles, at that time common to us all, and the
circumstances of the county and city at that crisis,
would have given a more local propriety to expressions
of sorrow, with regard to mistakes into which their
province had fallen, in common with a large part
of the nation in other quarters. But they were not
guilty of any omission at all ; because they had
nothing less in their view than the transactions of
1784. Instead of looking to that period, the memory
of which had not been obliterated by a very long
prescription, they forgot what passed before their
own eyes not above seven years from that time, and
flew back to the history of what had happened an
hundred years before. But they were not such mere
antiquarians as they seemed to be. In their unpre-
cedented compliment to Mr. Fox for governing his
conduct by the true principles of the revolution, they
plainly alluded to a transaction not quite an hundred
years old. He is the first private man to whom such
a compliment, I am persuaded, has ever been made.
It must have a reference to something done or said
relative to the principles of the revolution ; and if
I were dull enough to mistake what that doing and
saying was, I should be the only man in England who
did no.t perfectly enter into it. When I combined all
the circumstances, though I wish Mr. Fox all other
modes of honour, I cannot say that I was not con-
cerned at this event. It was not just at York (where
I was with Lord Eockingham at those very races
twenty-six years before, and there first had any
1 Mr. Burke refers to the presentation of the freedom of
the city of York to Mr. Fox.

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 327

acquaintance in that county,) that I apprehended, in
the praises of another, I should have found an oblique
censure, and the first vote against me amongst the
judges to whom I had addressed my appeal. That,
too, must go with the rest.

In that piece, 1 I have quite satisfied my own
conscience ; and I have done what I thought due to
my own reputation, so far as the puBlic is concerned.
Now let me say a word to you, on what would not have
been so proper to say to the public, as it regards the
particular interests of the party, and my conduct
towards them and their leader, Mr. Fox.

As to the party which has thought proper to
proscribe me on account of a book which I published
on the idea, that the principles of a new, republican,
frenchified Whiggism, were gaining ground in this
country, I cannot say it was written solely with a view
to the service of that party. I hope its views were
more general. But I am perfectly sure this was one
of the objects in my contemplation ; and I am hardly
less sure, that (bating the insufficiency of the execu-
tion) it was well calculated for that purpose ; and that
it had actually produced that effect upon the minds of
all those at whose sentiments it is not disrespectful
to guess. Possibly it produced that effect without
that exception. Mr. Montagu knows, many know,
what a softening towards our party it produced in the
thoughts and opinions of many men in many places.
It presented to them sentiments of liberty which
were not at war with order, virtue, religion, and good
government ; and though, for reasons which I have
cause to rejoice that I listened to, I disclaimed myself
as the organ of any party, it was the general opinion
that I had not wandered very widely from the senti-
ments of those with whom I was known to be so
closely connected. It was indeed then, and it is
much more so now, absolutely necessary to separate
those who cultivate a rational and sober liberty upon

1 * An Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs,* pub-
lished in 1791

328 EDMUND BURKE [1792

the plan of our existing constitution, from those who
think they have no liberty, if it does not comprehend
a right in them of making to themselves new constitu-
tions at their pleasure.

The party with which I acted had, by the malevolent
and unthinking, been reproached, and by the wise and
good always esteemed and confided in, as an aristo-
cratic party. Such I always understood it to be, in
the true sense of the word. I understood it to be
a party, in its composition and in its principles, con-
nected with the solid, permanent, long-possessed
property of the country ; a party which, by a temper
derived from that species of property, and affording
a security to it, was attached to the ancient tried
usages of the kingdom ; a party, therefore, essentially
constructed upon a ground-plot of stability and
independence; a party, therefore, equally removed
from servile court compliances, and from popular
levity, presumption, and precipitation.

Such was the general opinion of the substance and
original stamina of that party. For one, I was fully
persuaded that the spirit, genius, and character of
that party ought to be adopted, and, for a long time,
I thought was adopted, by all the new men who in
the course of time should be aggregated to that body ;
whether any of these new men should be a person
possessed of a large fortune of his own creating ; or
whether the new man should be (though of a family
long decorated with the honours and distinctions of
the state,) only a younger brother, who had an
importance to acquire by his industry and his talents ;
or whether the new man should be (as was my case,)
wholly new in the country, and aimed to illustrate
himself and his family by the services he might have
the fortune to render to the public. All these descrip-
tions of new men, and more, if more there are, I con-
ceived, without any formal engagement, by the very
constitution of the party, to be bound with all the
activity and energy of minds animated and awakened
by great hopes and views, to support those aristo-

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 329

cratic principles, and the aristocratic interests con-
nected with them, as essential to the real benefit of
the body of the people, to which all names of pa*rty,
all ranks and orders in the state, and even government
itself, ought to be entirely subordinate. These
principles and interests, I conceived, were to give the
bias to all their proceedings. Adhering to these
principles, the aspiring minds that exalt and vivify
a party, could not be held in too much honour and
consideration : departing from them, they lose more
than they can gain. They lose the advantages which
they might derive from such a party, and they cannot
make it fit for the purposes for which they desire to
employ it. Such a party, pushed forward by a blind
impulse, may for some time proceed without an exact
knowledge of the point to which it is going. It may
be deluded ; and, by being deluded, it may be dis-
credited and hurt ; but it is too unwieldy, both from
its numbers and from its property, to perform the
services expected from a corps of light horse.

Against the existence of any such description of
men as our party is in a great measure composed of,
against the existence of any mode of government on
such a basis, we have seen, a serious and systematic
attack attended with the most complete success, in
another country, but in a country at our very door.
It is an attack made against the thing and against
the name. If I were to produce an example of some-
thing diametrically opposite to the composition, to
the spirit, to the temper, to the character, and to all
the maxims of our old and unregenerated party,
something fitted to illustrate it by the strongest
opposition, I would produce what has been done in
France. I would except nothing. I would bring
forward the principles ; I would bring forward the
means ; I would bring forward the ultimate object.
They who cry up the French revolution, cry down the
party which you and I had so long the honour and
satisfaction to belong to. e But that party was formed
on a system of liberty. 1 Without question it was ;
M3

330 EDMUND BUKKE [1792

and God forbid that you and I should ever belong to
any party that was not built upon that foundation.
But this French dirt-pie, this its hateful contrast, is
founded upon slavery ; and a slavery which is not the
less slavery, because it operates in an inverted order.
It is a slavery the more shameful, the more humiliating,
the more galling, upon that account, to every liberal
and ingenuous mind. It is, on that account, ten
thousand times the more destructive to the peace,
the prosperity, and the welfare, in every instance, of
that undone and degraded country in which it prevails,
My party principles, as well as my general politics
and my natural sentiments, must lead me to detest
the French revolution, in the act, in the spirit, in the
consequences, and most of all, in the example. I saw
the sycophants of a court, who had, by engrossing to
themselves the favours of the sovereign, added to his
distress and to the odium of his government, take
advantage of that distress and odium to subvert his
authority and imprison his person ; and passing, by
a natural progression, from flatterers to traitors, con-
vert their ingratitude into a claim to patriotism, and
become active agents in the ruin of that order, from
their belonging to which they had derived all the
opulence and power of their families. Under the
auspices of these base wretches, I had seen a senseless
populace employed totally to annihilate the ancient
government of their country, under which it had
grown, in extent, compactness, population, and
riches, to a greatness even formidable ; a government
which discovered the vigour of its principle, even in
the many vices and errors, both of its own and its
people's, which were not of force enough to hinder it
from producing those effects. They began its destruc-
tion by subverting, under pretext of rights of man,
the foundations of civil society itself. They trampled
upon the religion of their country, and upon all
religion ; they systematically gave the rein to every
crime and every vice. They destroyed the trade and
manufactures of their country. They rooted up its

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 331

finances. They caused the greatest accumulation of
coin, probably ever collected amongst any people,
totally to disappear as by magic ; and they filled up
the void by a fraudulent, compulsory paper-currency,
and a coinage of the bells from their churches. They
possessed the fairest and the most flourishing colonies
which any nation had perhaps ever planted. These
they rendered a scene of carnage and desolation, that
would excite compassion and remorse in any hearts
but theirs. They possessed a vast body of nobility
and gentry, amongst the first in the world for splendour,
and the very first for disinterested services to their
country; in which I include the most disinterested
and incorrupt judicature (even by the confession of
its enemies) that ever was. These they persecuted,
they hunted down like wild beasts ; they expelled
them from their families and their houses, and dispersed
them into every country in Europe ; obliging them
either to pine in fear and misery at home, or to escape
into want and exile in foreign lands ; nay, (they went
so far in the wantonness of their insolence,) abrogated
their very name and their titular descriptions, as
something horrible and offensive to the ears of mankind.

The means by which all this was done leaves an
example in Europe never to be effaced, and which
no thinking man, I imagine, can present to his mind
without consternation ; that is, the bribing of an
immense body of soldiers, taken from the lowest of
the people, to an universal revolt against their officers,
who were the whole body of the country gentlemen,
and the landed interest of the nation, to set them-
selves up as a kind of democratic military, governed
and directed by their own clubs and committees ! "

When I saw all this mingled scene of crime, of vice,
of disorder, of folly, and of madness, received by very
many here, not with the horror and disgust which it
ought to have produced, but with rapture and exulta-
tion, as some almost supernatural benefit showered
down upon the race of mankind ,* and when I saw that
arrangements were publicly made for communicating

332 EDMUND BURKE [1792

to these islands their full share of these blessings,
I thought myself bound to stand out, and by every
means in my power to distinguish the ideas of a sober
and virtuous liberty, (such as I thought our party had
ever cultivated,) from that profligate, immoral,
impious, and rebellious licence, which, through the
medium of every sort of disorder and calamity, con-
ducts to some kind or other of tyrannic domination.

At first I had no idea that this base contagion had
gained any considerable ground in the party. Those
who were the first and most active in spreading it,
were their mortal and declared enemies ; I mean the
leading dissenters. They had long shown themselves
wholly adverse to, and unalliable with, the party.
They had shown it, as you know, signally, in 1784.
At the time of the Regency, (which, when Price's
sermon appeared, 1 was still green and raw,) they had
seized the opportunity of divisions amongst the great,
to bring forward their democratic notions ; and the
object against which they chiefly directed their
seditious doctrines, and the passions of the vulgar,
was your party ; and I confess they were in the right
in their choice ; for they knew very well, that, as
long as you were true to your principles, no consider-
able innovations could be made in the country , and
that this independent embodied aristocracy would
form an impenetrable fence against all their attempts
to break into the constitution. When I came to town,
though I had heard of Dr. Price's sermon, I had not
read it. I dined the day of my arrival with our friend
Dr. Walker King ; and there, in a large and mixed
company, partly composed of dissenters, one of that
description, a most worthy man, of learning, sense,
and ingenuity, one of the oldest and best friends I had
in the world, and no way indisposed to us, lamented
that the dissenters never could be reconciled to us, or
confide in us, or hear of our being possessed of the

1 This Sermon was preached on the 4th November,
1789, at the Old Jewry Meeting House to the Society for
commemorating the Involution in Great Britain

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 333

f3vernrnent of the country, as long as we were led by
ox ; this was far from his own opinion ; but lie
declared that it was very general in that body, who
regarded him, and spoke of him on all occasions, in
a manner that one would not speak of some better
sort of highwaymen. Of the rest of the party they
had a good opinion ; but thought them weak men,
and dupes, and the mere instruments of the person
of whom they had conceived such unfounded ideas.
I was warmed ; and continued, with vehemence,
in a conversation which lasted some hours, to do
justice to Mr. Fox ; and in as ample and strenuous
a manner as I thought the duties of friendship, and
a matter that touched the public interest, required.
It is unnecessary to enter into further details on the
subject. I went home, and, late as it was, before
I went to bed, I read Dr. Price's sermon ; and in that
very sermon (in which were all the shocking sentiments
and seditious principles which I have endeavoured to
expose) the leading feature was a personal invective
against Mr. Fox, very much in the style and manner
(a trifle, indeed, less coarse,) in which my worthy
friend had represented the general conversation of
the dissenters, when Mr. Fox was the subject.

It was, I think, but a day or two after that conver-
sation and reading, that I met Mr. Sheridan at Lord
North's. He was just come to town ; and, of himself,
he spoke with great resentment of the dissenters for
their treatment of Mr. Fox in other parts of the
kingdom ; which from him I learned was as bad,
particularly at Birmingham, as in London. Concerning
the French revolution not a word passed betweerf us.
I felt as Mr. Sheridan did, and it does not rest on my
single assertion. It is known to others, that some part
of the asperity with which 1 expressed myself against
these gentlemen, arose from my resentment for their
incurable and, as I thought, treacherous animosity to
Mr. Fox ; particularly when I knew that, during the
whole of the preceding summer, they were soliciting
his friendship and connexion. However, they knew

334 EDMUND BURKE [1792

Mr. Fox better than I did. The several shots they
fired to bring him to, produced their effect. I take it
for granted that public principles, connected with
magnanimity of sentiment, made him equally regard-
less of their enmity and of my friendship ; regardless
of my friendship, who was weak enough to adopt his
cause with a warmth which his wisdom and temper
condemned.

What lyhad thrown down on the first reading of
Price's J^claration and Correspondence with France,
was only in a few notes, (though intended for publica-
tion,) when Mr, Pox, to my great astonishment and
sorrow, chose for his theme of panegyric on the
French revolution, the behaviour of the French
Guards. I said what occurred to me on that occasion. 1
The day ended with sentiments not very widely divided,
and with unbroken friendship. I do not think that at
any period of my life I have given stronger proofs of
my attachment to that gentleman and to his party,
than I had done after that explanation, during the
whole of that session and the next, both within and
without doors.

In the meantime the opinions, principles, and
practices, which I thought so very mischievous, were
gaining ground, particularly in our party. The festival
of the fourteenth of July was celebrated with great
splendour for the first time. 2 There Mr. Sheridan
made a strong declaration of his sentiments, which
was printed. All that could be got together of the
party were convened at the Shakespeare the night
before ; that, as the expression was, they might go in
force to that anniversary. Applications were made
to some of the Prince of Wales's people, that it might
appear to have Ms royal highness 's countenance.
These things, and many more, convinced me, that the
best service which could be done to the party, and to

1 Mr. Burke probably refers to the debate on the
9th February, 1790.

2 A dinner at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand, on
the 14th July, 1790, Earl Stanhope in the chair.

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 335

the prince, was to strike a strong blow at those opinions
and practices which were carrying on for their common
destruction.

As to the prince, I thought him deeply concerned
that the ideas of an elective crown should not prevail.
He had experienced, and you had all of you folly
experienced, the peril of these doctrines on the ques-
tion of the Regency. You know that I endeavoured,
as well as I could, to supply the absence of Mr. Fox
during that great controversy. You cannot forget
that I supported the prince's title to the regency upon
the principle of his hereditary right to the crown ;
and I endeavoured to explode the false notions,
drawn from what had been stated as the revolution
maxims, by much the same arguments which I after-
wards used in my printed reflections. I endeavoured
to show, that the hereditary succession could not be
supported, whilst a person who had the chief interest
in it was, during a virtual interregnum, excluded from
the government ; and that the direct tendency of the
measure, as well as the grounds upon which it was
argued, went to make the crown itself elective, con-
trary (as I contended) to the fundamental settlement
made after the revolution. I meant to do service to
the prince when I took this ground on the regency;
I meant to do him service when I took the same
ground in my publication.

Here the conduct of the party towards themselves,
towards the prince, and (if with these names I could
mix myself,) towards me, has been such as to have no
parallel. The prince has been persuaded not only to
look with all possible coldness on myself, but to lose
no opportunity of publicly declaring his disapprobation
of a book written to prove that the crown, to which
(I hope) he is to succeed, is not elective. For this
I am in disgrace at Carlton House. The prince, I am
told, has expressed his displeasure that I have not
mentioned in that book his right to the regency;
I never was so astonished as when I heard this. In
the first place, the persons against whom I maintained

336 EDMUND BUEKE * [1792

that controversy had said nothing at all upon the
subject of the regency. They went much deeper.
I was weak enough to think that the succession to the
crown was a matter of other importance to his royal
highness than his right to the regency. At a time when
the king was in perfect health, and no question existing
of arrangements to be made, on a supposition of his
falling into his former, or any other grievous malady,
it would have been an imprudence of the first magni-
tude, and such as would have hurt the prince most
essentially, if it were to be supposed he had given me
the smallest encouragement to have wantonly brought
on that most critical discussion. Not one of the
friends whom his royal highness c delighteth to
honour ', have thought proper to say one word upon
the subject, in parliament or out of parliament. But
the silence which in them is respectful and prudent,
in me is disaffection. I shall say no more on this matter.
The prince must have been strangely deceived. He
is much more personally concerned, in all questions
of succession, than the king, who is in possession.
Yet his Majesty has received, with every mark of
a gracious protection, my intended service to his
family. The prince has been made to believe it to be
some sort of injury to himself. Those, the most in
his favour and confidence, are avowed admirers of
the French democracy. Even his attorney and his
solicitor -general, 1 who, by their legal knowledge and
their eloquence as advocates, ought to be the pillars
of his succession, are enthusiasts, public and declared,
for the French revolution and its principles. These,
my dear sir, are strange symptoms about a future
court ; and they make no small part of that fear of
impending mischief to this constitution, which grows
upon me every hour. A Prince of Wales with demo-
cratic law-servants, with democratic political friends,
with democratic personal favourites ! If this be not
ominous to the crown, I know not what is.

1 Mr. Erskiae, afterwards Lord Chancellor, and Mn
JPiggott, afterwards Attorney-General.

'1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 337

As to the party and its interests, in endeavouring
to support the legal hereditary succession of the
Prince of Wales, I consider their power as included in
the assertion of his right. I could not say positively
how soon the ideas they entertained might have
recommended them to the*favoor of the reigning king.
I did not, however, conceive that, whatever their
notions might be, the probability of their being called
to the helm, was quite so great under his present
Majesty as under a successor ; and that, therefore,
the maintenance of the right of that successor, against
those who at once attacked the settlement of the
crown, and were the known, declared enemies of the
party, was. in a political light, the greatest service
I could do to that party, and more particularly to
Mr. Fox ; infinitely more so than to the Duke of
Portland, or Lord FitzwilJiam ; because, for many
reasons, I am satisfied, that these two noble persons
are not so ill at St. James's as he is ; and that they
(or one of them at least) are not near so well at
Carlton House as Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan.

According to the common principles of vulgar
politics, this would be thought a service, not ill-
intended, and aimed at its mark with tolerable
discretion and judgement. For this, the gentlemen
have thought proper to render me obnoxious to the
party, odious to the prince, (from whose future pre-
rogative alone my family can hope for anything,)
and at least suspected by the body of my country.
That is, they have endeavoured completely and
fundamentally 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 friendship,
his fortunes, or his reputation.

But I thought there was another, and a more
important point in view, in which, what I had done
for the public might eminently serve the party, and
in concerns of infinitely more importance to those
who compose the major part of the body, than any
share of power they might obtain. I considered the

338 EDMUND BUKKE [1792

party as the particular mark of that anarcMcal fac-
tion ; and that the principle of the French revolution
which they preached up, would have them for its first
and most grateful victims. It is against them, as
a part of an aristocracy, that the nefarious principles
of that grovelling rebellion and tyranny strike ; and
not at monarchy, further than as it is supposed to be
built upon an aristocratic basis. They, who would
cheat the nobility and gentry of this nation to their
ruin, talk of that monster of turpitude as ^nothing
but the subversion of monarchy. Far from it. The
French pride themselves on the idea, however absurd,
that theirs is a democracie royale. The name of the
monarchy, and of the hereditary monarchy too, they
preserve in France ; and they feed the person whom
they call * king ', with such a revenue, given to mere
luxury and extravagance totally separated from all
provision for the state, as I believe no people ever
before dreamed of granting for such purposes. But
against the nobility and gentry they have waged
inexpiable war. There are, at this day, no fewer than
ten thousand heads of respectable families driven out
of France ; and those who remain at home, remain in
depression, penury, and continued alarm for their
lives. You and I know thai) (in order, as I conceive,
still to bund and delude the gentlemen of England,)
the French faction here pretended that the persecution
of the gentlemen of France could not last ; that at
the next election they would recover the consideration
which belonged to them, and that we should see that
country represented by its best blood, and by all its
considerable property. They knew at the time that
they were setting forward an imposture. The present
assembly, the first born, the child of the strength of
their constitution, demonstrates the value of their
prediction. At the very instant in which they were
making it, they knew, or they knew nothing, that the
two hundred and fifty clubs which govern that country
had settled their lists. They must have known that
the gentlemen of France were not degraded and

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 339

branded in order to exalt them to greater consequence
than ever they possessed. Such they would have
had, if they were to compose the whole, or even the
major part, of an assembly which rules, in everything
legislative and executive, without any sort of balance
or control. No such thing; the assembly has not
fifty men in it (I believe I am at the outside of the
number) who are possessed of an hundred pounds
a year, in any description of property whatsoever.
About six individuals of enormous wealth, and thereby
sworn enemies to the prejudice which affixes a dignity
to virtuous well-born poverty, are in the number of
the fifty. The rest are, what might be supposed, men
whose names never were before heard of beyond their
market-town. About four hundred of the seven are
country practitioners of the law ; several of them the
stewards and men of business who managed the
affairs of gentlemen, bishops, or convents ; who, for
their merits towards their former employers, are now
made the disposers of their lives and fortunes. The
rest no one can give an account of, except of those
who have passed to this temple of honour, through the
temple of virtue called the house of correction. When
the king asked the president who the gentlemen were
who attended him with a message, the president
answered, that he did not know one of them even by
name. The gentlemen of this faction here, I am well
aware, attribute this to the perverseness of the gentle-
men themselves, who would not offer themselves as
candidates. That they did not offer themselves is
very true ; because they knew that they could appear
at the primary assemblies only to be insulted, at best ;
perhaps even murdered, as some of them have been ;
and many more have been threatened with assassina-
tion. What are we to think of a constitution, as
a pattern, from which the whole gentry of a country,
instead of courting a share in it with eagerness and
assiduity, fly as from a place of infection ? But the
gentlemen of France are all base, vicious, servile, &e.
&c. &c. Pray, let not the gentlemen of England be

340 EDMUND BURKE [1792

flattered to their destruction, by railing at their
neighbours. They are as good as we are, to the full.
If they were thus base and corrupt in their sentiments,
there is nothing they would not submit to in order
to have their share in this scramble for wealth and
power. But they have declined it, from sentiments of
honour and virtue, and the purest patriotism. One
turns with pity and indignation from the view of what
they suffer for those sentiments ; and, I must confess,
my animosity is doubled against those amongst us,
who, in that situation, can rail at persons who bear
such things with fortitude, even supposing that they
suffered for principles in which they were mistaken.
But neither you, nor I, nor any fair man, can believe,
that a whole nation is free from honour and real
principle ; or that if these things exist in it, they are
not to be found in the men the best born, and the
best bred, and in those possessed of rank which raises
them in their own esteem, and in the esteem of others,
and possessed of hereditary settlement in the same

Slace, which secures, with an hereditary wealth, an
ereditary inspection. That these should be all
scoundrels, and that the virtue, honour, and public
spirit of a nation should be only found in its attorneys,
pettifoggers, stewards of manors, discarded officers
of police, shop-boys, clerks of counting-houses, and
rustics from the plough, is a paradox, not of false
ingenuity, but of envy and malignity. It is an error,
not of the head, but of the heart. The whole man is
turned upside down before such an inversion of all
natural sentiment and all natural reason can take
place. I do not wish to you, no, nor to those who
applaud such scenes, angry as I am with them, masters
of that description.

Visible as it was to the world, that not the despotism
of a prince, but the condition of a gentleman, was
the grand object of attack; I thought I should do
service to a party of gentlemen, to caution the public
against giving countenance to a project, calculated for
the rain of such a party.

1792] TO WILLIAM WEDDELL 341

When such an attempt was not excused, even as
well-intended, there was but one way of accounting
for the conduct of gentlemen towards me ; it is, that
from my hands they are resolved not to accept any
service. Be it so. They are rid of an incumbrance ;
and I retire to repose of body and mind, with a repose
of conscience too ; perfect, with regard to the party
and the public, however I may feel myself, as I do,
faulty and deficient in other respects. The only con-
cern I feel is, that I am obliged to continue an hour
longer in parliament. Whilst I am there, except in
some deep constitutional question, I shall take no part.
Lord Fitzwilliam and the Duke of Portland shall not
be seen voting one way in the House of Lords whilst
I vote another in the House of Commons ; and any
vote of mine, by which I may add even my mite of
contribution towards supporting the system or ad-
vancing the power of the new French whigs, I never
will give. That corruption has cast deep roots in
that party, and they vegetate in it (however dis-
credited amongst the people in general) every day
with greater and greater force. The particular gentle-
men who are seized with that malady (such I must
consider it), have, to my thinking, so completely
changed their minds, that one knows no longer what
to depend upon, or upon what ground we stand.
Some of them (besides the two leaders) are, indeed, so
high in character, and of such great abilities, that
their mistake, if such it be, must make a most mis-
chievous impression. I know they say, that they do
not want to introduce these things here, &c. &c.,
but this is a poor business, while they propagate all
the abstract principles, and exalt to the stars the
realization of them at our door. They are sublime
metaphysicians ; and the horrible consequences pro-
duced by their speculations affect them not at all,
They only ask ^whether the proposition be true ?-
Whether it produces good or evil, is no part of their
concern. This long letter, my dear friend, is for you j
but so for you, as* that you may show it to such of our

342 EDMUND BURKE [1792

friends who, though they cannot in prudence support,
will not in justice condemn me.

My dear sir,

Most faithfully, your most obliged and
obedient humble servant,
EDM. BTJRKE.

THE RIGHT HON. EDMTJHD BURKE TO RICH A TO
BURKE, JUN., ESQ.

Beaconsfidd, March, 1792.
MY DEAREST RICHARD.

A thousand thanks for your letter to your uncle,
which we mean to send this night to him on the
circuit. I hope you have got the long letter and
packet I wrote last. I shall not say much now, as
I write chiefly to put you in mind of what perhaps
you had forgot, that is, tliat you have a chaise lying
useless to you and us at Holyhead; and that, if
you mean to take any little trips in Ireland, surely
in common sense you ought to send for it. An applica-
tion to any of the captains will make them attend to
it carefully. Hastings' business going off to the
return of the judges. We are here ; we came down
yesterday. Miss Palmer, Mr. Gwatkin, and Mrs. Gwat-
kin, are just this minute arrived. I begin to think
that these women look better already; they are to
stay here for some time. Everything turned out
fortunately for poor Sir Joshua, from the moment of
his birth to the hour I saw him laid in the earth.
Never was a funeral of ceremony attended with so
much sincere concern of all sorts of people. The day
was favourable ; the order not broken or interrupted
in the smallest degree. Your uncle, who was back in
the procession, was struck almost motionless at his
entering at the great west door. The body was just
then entering the choir, and the orgaa began to open,
and the long black train before him produced an
astonishing effect on his sensibility, on considering
how dear to Mm the object of that melancholy pomp

1792] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUN. 343

had been. Everything, I think, was just as our
deceased friend would, if living, have wished it to be ;
for he was, as you know, not altogether indifferent to
this kind of observances. He gave, indeed, a direction
that no expenses should be employed ; but his desire
to be buried at St. Paul's justified what we have done ;
and all circumstances demanded it. I don't think
the whole charge will come up to six hundred pound.
The academy bore their own share of the expense.
We do not know his circumstances exactly, because
we have not been able to estimate the immense col-
lection of pictures, drawings, and prints. They stood
him in more than twenty thousand pound. Taking
things at the very worst, I do not think Miss Palmer
can have less, when all legacies are discharged, than
thirty thousand pound. It was owing, I believe, to
his being obliged to take to his bed sooner than he
expected, that poor Sir Joshua neglected even to
name his nephews, the Palmers. This is the only
unlucky thing. They are deeply hurt, and I do not
much wonder at it.

It is plain that it is Hastings' plan to continue the
trial until peers, commoners, and spectators, run away
from it. Law 1 was three days in opening, but he
spent more hours in those three days, than I had done
in my four. Plumer 2 has spent three days in opening
the Benares charge, and he has not got so far as
Hastings' proposition to go up to Benares. He has
already spent more hours than Fox and Grey did in
going through the whole. If he proceeds on the same
plan, and gives length in proportion to matter, I think
he ought to take at least six days more. It is impos-
sible to bring it to an end this session. In my opinion,
they make very little way indeed ; though the doc-
trine, that no agreement barred against the rights of
sovereignty, seemed to have made the impression
intended by the counsel; but that cannot last loag
before a discussion of the point.

My mind is much bent on you and on your business.

1 Lord Ellenborough. a Afterwards Solicitor-General.

344 EDMUND BURKE [1792

You see by my letter how much. I approve your plans.
I take it for granted you have received it. I shall
write to you more fully by a proper opportunity. If
your clients relax for a moment, they are gone. Let
the storm of addresses blow over. Let fury and
treachery do their work. Reason and justice will
prevail. Do they think, unfortunate and insane
tyrants as they are, that slavery will be rendered more
tolerable by adding contumely to it ? Since the
beginning of time, so outrageous a proceeding as that
on the petition l has not been heard of. This shows
that the petition ought to have been made reasoned
and pathetic, that the treatment of it might have
been rendered more striking. However, the Catholics
were perfectly in the right to present one of some sort
or other. They had been undone, past redemption,
if they had suffered themselves to be intimidated
from an application. The debate was wholly with
them. Grattan's incomparable speech, I think, ought
to make a little separate pamphlet. The debate ought
to be put into the newspapers here. There is now
sufficient vacancy for it. I have just read Jones's
letter on this subject. I wish some things had been
omitted, but it is as spirited and manly a performance
as I think I have seen. The appearance of it, too, at
this time is seasonable. Byrnes's Dublin publication
of my letter to Sir Hercules Langrishe was so blundering
as to vex me. He makes me say, and that at a critical
point, the direct reverse of my sense. Debret brought
it to me very luckily before he printed it, and I cor-
rected the worst parts. I see, in his second edition,
he too has chosen to amend it into a blunder ; but it
is a blunder of not much importance. He printed
a large edition of two thousand ; what is next I know
not. I hear it is well spoken of by the opposition here.
I think you quite right in all your schemes. What is
that unfortunate man Lord Kenmare doing ? He
is worthily represented by Sir Boyle Roche. To
make that ridiculous creature a peer, he sells three
1 The petition of the Roman Catholic committee.

1792] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUN. 345

millions of Ms countrymen and brethren. Greater
mischiefs happen often from folly, meanness, and
vanity, than from the greater sins of avarice and
ambition. All here salute you most cordially, and to
God I commend you ; wishing my best love to all
friends in Dublin. Is the provost returned, and how
are you there ? I suppose Lord Charlemont is cold to
you. How is the Duke of Leinster ?

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BUHKE TO RICHAED
BTTRZE, JTJN., ESQ.

March 23, 1792.
MY DEAREST RICHARD,

We have received yours of the 17th, your baptismal
day ; which, according to laudable custom, you,
I suppose, rebaptize in wine. Your mother observed,
that it is the on3y one which you have dated.

The treachery of your old schoolfellow is something
beyond the practice even of Irish secretaries, so
recorded by Mr. Grattan. I can easily conceive that
he who could betray, could overcharge. Indeed,
a plain lie is better than such treason. You certainly
are in the right not to suffer an incurable alienation
between the Catholics and Dissenters. If the latter
do, bona fide, resolve to relieve their country from this
mass of absurd servitude, for so much they have
merit, whatever their ulterior views may be. There
are few things I wish more, (as I have said in the
letters I have sketched to you,) than that the estab-
lished churches should be continued on a firm founda-
tion in both kingdoms. When I say few, I mean to
be exact; for some things, assuredly, I have much
nearer my heart, namely, the emancipation of that
great body of my original countrymen, whom a
jackanapes in lawn sleeves calls fools and knaves.
I can never persuade myself that anything in our
thirty-nine articles, which differs from their articles,
is worth making three millions of people slaves, to
secure its teaching at the public expense ; and I think

346 EDMUND BURKE [1792

lie must be a strange man, a strange Christian, and
a strange Engkshman, who would not rather see
Ireland a free, flourishing, happy Catholic country,
though not one Protestant existed in it, than an
enslaved, beggared, insulted, degraded Catholic
country, as it is, with some Protestants here and
there scattered through it, for the purpose, not of
instructing the people, but of rendering them miser-
able. This I say, supposing that any security were
derived from that abominable system. A religion
that has for one of its dogmas the servitude of all
mankind that do not belong to it, is a vile heresy ;
and this I think one of the worst heresies of that
Protestant sect called Mahometamsm.

It is a monstrous thing that the Catholics should
be obliged to abjure a supposed claim to the property
of others. Never was so absurd a charge made on
men. I think they are in the right to abjure that
claim ; but they ought not to do it without a strong
declaration of their indignation at its being, without
the smallest foundation, imputed to them.

I return to the Dissenters. I am happy that you
find those of Ireland not disaffected to this constitution
in state; as to the Church, it is enough for its
security, if they are not inflamed with a furious zeal
for its destruction, and are content to let it stand as
an institution of state for the satisfaction of some part
of the people, but as a business in which they have no
concern, as they and the Catholics most certainly
have none. By the way, don't you think that, in the
representation to the king, this business ought to be
taken up in this way ? I will send you a few dry
heads, and you may see whether they accord with
your ideas.

As to myself, my resolution about the part I should
take, relative to the Dissenters, has been very wavering.
I cannot a second time go to the question of the test,
and not vote. This kind of thing cannot be repeated ;
but I really did wish to take some other opportunity
to state their manifest designs and their condiict.

1792] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUN. 347

This affair of Birmingham, which frightened them at
first, now fortifies them. They come forth as perse-
cuted men. They all, as fast as they can meet, take
up Priestley, and avowedly set him up as their head.
They are preparing to renew the 14th of July. At
Manchester they have advertised their thanks to
Mr. Thomas Paine for Ms second work, more in-
famous, if possible, than the first. They keep up
their French correspondence as before. In short-, the
Unitarian Society, from whence all these things origi-
nate, are as zealous as their brethren at Constanti-
nople ; and, if care is not taken, I should think it
very probable that you may live to see Christianity
as effectually extirpated out of this country as it is
out of France. I think I shall not meddle in these
affairs at all. If I do, I shall certainly separate the
sober and well-meaning, conscientious Dissenters,
from the new French faction. Your mother has
a cold, but otherwise, thank God, is well. Have you
got my last long miscellaneous letter ? Always say
what you have got ; or, if you are busy, desire Therry,
or somebody else, to do it. Let everything be
enclosed to Adey, whether from yourself or others.
My last went, by your direction, to Mr. Lawless, and
had only R. B., Esq., on the cover.

RIGHT Ho3sr. EDMUND BURKE TO LORD GEENVILLE
Beaeonsfidd, August 18, 1792.

I DO not know whether I can perfectly justify
myself in venturing to trouble your lordship, in. my
imperfect state of knowledge, with any suggestions
of mine. But I trust, that however weak you may
find my notions, you will believe that they are formed
with general good intentions, and that they are laid
before you with all possible respect to yourself and to
your colleagues, and with real good wishes for what-
ever may contribute to your reputation in the conduct
of the king's business.

The late shocking, though long expected, event at

348 EDMUND BURKE [1792

Paris, has rendered, in my opinion, every step that
shall be taken -with regard to Prance, at this con-
juncture, extremely delicate.

The part of a neutral power is, in itself, delicate ;
but particularly so in a case in which it is impossible
to suppose that, in this neutrality, there should not
be some lurking wish in favour of one of the parties
in the contest. The conduct of such a power will be
looked up to with hope and fear during the contention.
Everything which such a power says or does, will be
construed by an application to the circumstances.

The present circumstances are an attack upon the
King of France's palace ; the murder of all who were
found in it ; the imprisonment of the king ; his sus-
pension, stated by the faction itself as a deposition ;
acts of violence which have obliged the majority of
the national assembly to absent themselves from their
functions ; add to these, the intention, not in the
least ambiguous, of bringing the king and queen to
a trial ; the resolution expressed by many of putting
them to death, with or without that formality. The
effect of these things, from their very nature, and
from the nature of men, as well as from the principle
on which they are done, at a time when theories are
rashly formed, and readily pass from speculation into
practice, and when ill examples, at afl times apt to
infect, are so unusually contagious, it is unnecessary
for me to state to one of your lordship's sagacity and
penetration.

This last revolution, whatever name it may assume,
at present bears no one character of a national act.
It is the act only 'of some desperate persons, inhabi-
tants of one city only, instigating and hiring at an
enormous expense the lowest of the people, to destroy
the monarch and* the monarchy, with whatever else
is respectable in society. Not one officer of the
national guards of Paris," which officers are composed
of nothing higher than good tradesmen, has appeared
in this business. It is not yet adopted throughout
France by any one class of people. No regular govern-

1792] TO LORD GEENVILLE 349

ment of any country has yet an object with which they
can decently treat in France, or to which they can
rationally make any official declaration whatsoever.

In such a state of things, to address the present
heads of the insurrection, put by them into the
nominal administrative departments of state office,
is to give a direct sanction to their authority on the
part of the court of Great Britain. To this time, the
King of France's name has appeared to every public
act and instrument ; and all office transactions to
our court, and to every other foreign court, have
appeared in their usual form. If we pleased, it was
in our power to shut our eyes to everything else ; but
this is now no longer possible. I should, therefore,
beg leave to submit it to consideration, whether to
recognize the leaders in the late murderous insurrec-
tion, as the actual governors of France, is not, at best,
a little premature. Perhaps it may be a doubt, as
a matter of sound policy, whether more would not be
lost by this hasty recognition on the side of the great,
settled, and acknowledged powers, than we can hope
to gain by pressing to pay our court to this, at best,
unformed and embryo potentate. I take it for granted,
that it will not be easy for Lord Gower x to continue
in his present situation. If it were even thought for
the dignity of this crown, no man of honour and
spirit would submit to it. It is a sacrifice too great
to be made, of all generous and noble feeling. I should
humbly propose it for consideration, whether, on his
retreat, great reserve ought not to be used with regard
to any declaration. If any person standing in the
place of a minis ber should apply to him for an explana-
tion, he ought, in my poor opinion, to be absolutely
silent. But if that should not be, thought the best
course, he might say that he had had leave to return
on his private affairs. The King of Spain has no
minister at Paris, yet his neutrality has hitherto been
complete. The neutrality of this court has already

1 At this time Ambassador at Paris from the court of
London.

350 EDMUND BUBKB [1792

been more than once declared. At this moment, any
over-prompt and affected new declaration on that
subject, made to the persons who have lately vaulted
into the seat of government, after committing so many
atrocious acts and threatening more, would have all
the force and effect of a declaration in their favour.
Although it should be covered with moHifying expres-
sions with regard to the king's personal safety, (which
will be considered as nothing but a sacrifice to decorum
and ceremony, and as mere words of course,) it will
appear to the Jacobin faction as a direct recommenda-
tion to their meditated act of regicide ; knowing, as the
world does, their dispositions, their menaces, their
preparations, and the whole train of the existing
circumstances. In that case, to say, * I hope you mean
no ill, and I recommend it to you to do no ill, but do
what you please, you have nothing to fear from me,'
would be plainly to call upon them to proceed to any
lengths their wickedness might carry them.

It is a great doubt with me, whether a declaration
to this new power, a creature almost literally of
yesterday, and a creature of treasonable and mur-
derous riot of the lowest people in one city, is not
a substantial breach of the neutrality promised to
the power to whom originally the neutrality was
assured, on the interposition of foreign powers ;
namely, to the most Christian king. To take the first
opportunity, with the most extraordinary haste, to
remove all fears from the minds of his assassins, is
tantamount to taking a part against him. Much
I fear, that though nothing could be more remote from
the intention of this court, yet if such a declaration
were made, and if the act of atrocity apprehended
should actually take place, we shall be considered as
ready accomplices in it, and a sort of accessories before
the fact ; particularly when no declaration on the part
of our court has been called for by the new power, and
that, as yet, they have no minister at this court.
If the step of the recall of our minister (supposing
such a step in contemplation) should produce any

1792] TO LORD GRENVILLE 351

fears in them, I see no use in removing those fears.
On our part, the navy of France is not so formidable
that I think we have any just ground of apprehension
that she will make war upon us. It is not the enmity,
but the friendship of France that is truly terrible.
Her intercourse, her example, the spread of her
doctrines, are the most dreadful of her arms.

I do not see what a nation loses in reputation or
in safety, by keeping its conduct in its own power.
I think such a state of freedom in the use of a moral
and political reserve in such unheard-of circumstances,
can be well justified to any sovereign abroad, or to
any person or party at home. I perceive that much
pains are taken by the Jacobins of England to propa-
gate a notion, that one state has not a right to inter-
fere according to its discretion in the interior affairs of
another. This strange notion can only be supported
by a confusion of ideas, and by not distinguishing
the case of rebellion and sedition in a neighbouring
country, and taking a part in the divisions of a
country when they do prevail, and are actually formed.
In the first case there is undoubtedly more difficulty
than in the second, in which there is clearly no difficulty
at all. To interfere in such dissensions requires great
prudence and circumspection, and a serious attention
to justice, and to the policy of one's own country, as
well as to that of Europe. But an abstract principle
of public law, forbidding such interference, is not
supported by the reason of that law, nor by the
authorities on the subject, nor by the practice of this
kingdom, nor by that of any civilized nation in the
world. This nation owes its laws and liberties, His
Majesty owes the throne on which he sits, ta the
contrary principle. The several treaties of guarantee
to the Protestant succession more than once reclaimed,
affirm the principle' of interference, which in a manner
forms the basis of the public law in Europe. A more
mischievous idea cannot exist, than that any degree
of wickedness, violence, and oppression, may prevail
in a country, that the most abominable, murderous.

352 EDMUND BURKE [1792

and exterminating rebellions may rage in it, or the
most atrocious and bloody tyranny may domineer,
and that no neighbouring power can take cognizance
of either, or afford succour to the miserable sufferers.

I trust your lordship will have the goodness to
excuse the freedom taken by an old Member of Par-
liament. The habits of the House of Commons teach
a liberty, perhaps improper, with regard to office.
But be assured, there is nothing in mine that has the
smallest mixture of hostility; and it will, I trust,
appear that my motives are candid and friendly, if
ever this affair should come into discussion in the
House of Commons, and I should feel myself called on
to deliver my opinions. If I were, as formerly I have
been, in systematic opposition, (most assuredly I am
not so now,) I had much rather, according to my
practice in more instances than one, respectfully to
state a doubt to ministers whilst a measure is depend-
ing, than to reproach them afterwards with its conse-
quences in my place. What I write will, I hope, at
worst, be thought the intrusion of an importunate
friend. I am thoroughly convinced that the faction
of the English Jacobins, though a little under a cloud
for the present, is neither destroyed nor disheartened.
The fire is still alive under the ashes. Every encourage-
ment, direct or indirect, given to their brethren in
France, stirs and animates the embers. So sure as
we have an existence, if these things should go on in
Erance, as go on they may, so sure it is, that in the
ripeness of their time, the same tragedies will be acted
in England. Carra, and Condorcet, and Santerre, and
Manuel, and Petion, and their brethren the Priestleys,
the Coopers, and the Watts the deputies of the body
of the dissenters and others at Manchester, who
embraced Carra in the midst of the Jacobin club ;
the revolution-society that received P6tion in London ;
the whole race of the affiliated, who are numerous and
powerful, whose principles, dispositions, and wishes
are the very same, are as closely connected as ever ;
and they do not fail to mark and to use everything

1792] TO LOEB GBENVILLE 353

that shows a remissness, or any equivocal appearance
in government, to their advantage. I conceive that
the Duke of Brunswick is as much fighting the battle
of the Crown of England, as the Duke of Cumberland
did at Culloden. I conceive that any unnecessary
declarations on our part will be to him, and to those
who are disposed to put a bound to the empire of
anarchy and assassination, a signal discouragement.
The cause of my dread, and perhaps over- officious
anxiety, at this time, has arisen from what (you will
have the goodness to pardon me) I thought rather too
much readiness to declare on other occasions. Perhaps
I talk of a thing not at all in contemplation. If no
thoughts of the kind have been entertained, your
lordship will be pleased to consider this as waste
paper. It is, at any rate, but as a hint to. yourself,
and requires no answer.

I have the honour to be, &c. &c.,
EDM. BUBKE.

EXTRACT OF A LETTEB IBOM THE

RIGHT HON. EDMUND BUBKE TO MB. WILLIAM BURKE

rsr INDIA

September, 1792.

. . . This is the politics of the little, neighbourhood.
I will now say a word to the politics of the great
neighbourhood. Last winter produced extraordinary
phenomena. In my opinion, as long as the desperate
system which prevails in Prance can maintain itself,
we shall always find some eruption or other here.
The fire is constantly at work; it sometimes blazes
out. It is sometimes smothered, or rather covered,
by the ashes ; but there it is, and there it will be.
The whole edifice of ancient Europe is shaken by the
earthquake caused by the fire. One part of the
building only is level with the ground; but all is
impaired very considerably. For my part, I think
that even in the efforts made by princes to re-establish

237

354 EDMUND BURKE [1792

the ancient order of things, signs of great weakness,
and even of those causes which they are leagued to
prevent, are very discernible. But the complete
security of many people here, I hold to be amongst
the most alarming of the symptoms of our present
distemper. Last winter they were roused from this
security, but only to fall into it again. The remedies
they used left the distemper where it was, but it has
increased the security, which is the most dangerous
effect of it. The association for parliamentary reform,
which is composed of amateurs of the French revolu-
tion, and certainly had the spirit of that revolution
for its vital principle, and, in most of the members,
for its ultimate object, gave a very great and serious
alarm, not most or first to the ministers, (though to
them a good deal too,) but to the older and weighty
party of the opposition, who saw, upon that occasion,
the necessity of strengthening the hands of govern-
ment. They came to an understanding, and thence
into a degree of concert with administration. Many
things were proposed, but both parties seemed to
agree but in one (and, indeed, no more was much
pressed) ; that is, in the address of the two Houses,
to be supported by mutual concurrence of the principal
of both parties. Pox was put into great straits. The
young, and vigorous, and enterprising of his party
had led in that .business. The weighty, grave, impor-
tant, the men of settled character and influence, were
strongly against it. In this situation you may believe
he found himself embarrassed and mortified. Though
he had done all in his power to excite the spirit from
whence that association had its rise, the measure did
not originate from his advice, nor was it carried on
from any active encouragement of his. However,
when the affair came to the test, he showed which
division in the party he thought it the most for his
purpose, or the most agreeable to his inclination, to
adhere to. He fell foul on the address, though he well
knew that it did in effect begin from the Duke of
Portland, and that the draft had been laid before

1792] TO WILLIAM BURKE 355

Mm, and settled in a manner agreeable to Ms ideas.
All this, however, produced no rupture between the
duke and Mm, though on his part great vexation.
All this agreement concerning the safety of the funda-
mental part of the Constitution, naturally produced
approximation towards each other, of ^the ministry,
and one part of the leaders of opposition. A sort of
negotiation between Lord Loughborough and Dundas
was commenced with the approbation of the Duke of
Portland, for a comprehension of parties, and putting
the administration on a broader and, as they think,
a safer bottom. The ministers say, that they think
they are full strong enough for the support of their
own power and situation, and that they are not the
less strong for getting rid of the Chancellor 1 ; but they
confess they are not strong enough for the public
purposes of administration, and for the steps which
the exigencies of the time may require. These
exigencies can be only the changes brought about
in Europe by the situation of France ; but I do not
find that these are any part of the object in view by
either of the parties, which makes me (who conceive,
and indeed am quite sure, that all other politics are
absorbed and drawn into that one gulf,) very indif-
ferent about the final result of this negotiation ;
I B&y final result, because, though it seems as if it were
broken off, I do not think it is so, conclusively. The
difficulty, in fact, is the arrangement of Fox, and that
difficulty is greatly increased by the strange conduct
held by the Duke of Portland, who, in proposing the
arrangement to Fox, never made the political prin-
ciple upon which that arrangement was to be made,
any part, much less the fundamental part, of the
negotiation. In truth, I do not see how the duke
should think of coming into office, or desiring his
friends to do so, unless there was something in the
circumstances of the moment sufficiently urgent to
justify a departure from systematic opposition. This
could be nothing but the necessity of strengthening the
1 Lord Thurlow.

356 EDMUND BURKE [1792

monarchy against the principles of French repub-
licanism ; but Fox, upon whom the duke turned the
whole negotiation, without the least reference to any
political principle, saw plainly that he could not be
arranged in a manner suitable to the rank in which
undoubtedly he stands. To abandon all the young
and energetic part of the party, and the whole body
of the dissenters, upon whom he has lately built his
principal hopes, is what would be difficult for him to
do. He, therefore, made a point of what he knew
Lord Loughborough would not dare even to mention
to Pitt, that Mr. Pitt's abdication of the Treasury
should be a sine qua non in the negotiation ; and he
prevailed on the Duke of Portland on his part to
make an abdication of his pretensions to that situa-
tion, to neutralize the office that generally goes with
that of first minister ; that is, to put it into the hands
of the Marquis of Bath (Lord Weymouth), or the Duke
of Leeds. This would, in effect, completely set aside
the Duke of Portland for ever, and put up the
Treasury in hands avowedly holding it only in interim
and ineffectually, to be fought for as a prize by court
intrigue or parliamentary conflict between him and
Pitt. Into this trap the duke has given. Fox will
not arrange on other terms, and the duke does not
think it advisable to arrange without Fox. You see,
that if Pitt did choose to give up his post, of which he
is in possession, to game for the chance of it after-
wards, how much this arrangement, made to produce
peace and settlement, must lead to eternal confusion ;
you see plainly enough. I do not know anything
more likely, in the present crisis of politics, to ruin
the tranquillity, and, with it, to endanger the safety
of the kingdom. As to Pitt, I believe the idea can be
no secret to him. But nothing was proposed by Lord
Loughborough the negotiator, but to place him
generally in a Cabinet office. Pitt did not directly
put a negative on it, but said the idea was new to
him; that he felt the importance of Fox's abilities
in the support of government ; that he had no sort

1792] TO WILLIAM BURKE 357

of personal animosity to him, but rather, personally,
good will and good liking ; but that, from the part
he had taken through the whole session, and par-
ticularly on the proclamation, he did not see how he
could be recommended to the king's confidence, at
least without some further explanations. The minis-
ters, after this, made no attempt to renew the
negotiation. You see that the duke is more and more
in Fox's power, indeed, is now delivered over to
him, bound hand and foot ; and must be so, until he
puts his conduct upon some distinct principle, on
which an issue between them may be fairly joined.
You may easily conceive that this negotiation, totally
destitute of all foundation in political principle, was
not, at least in the mode and terms, of my advising.
I saw the mischief of any arrangement which should
make Fox desperate, and put him, in the most
desperate manner, at the head of the worst, designing
men, as well as the duke or any one else could do.
But my advice was, that, as a foundation of the whole,
the political principle must be settled as the preli-
minary; namely, a total hostility to the French
system at home and abroad ' ; that this ought to be
put as a test to Fox, on which, if he gave security by
declaration and conduct, he would be, if so, separated
from the factions, and lose their confidence ; and then,
whether he came in or not, the duke would preserve
consistency, character, and dignity, by adhering to
him, and making his power an object in all his
manoeuvres, whether of opposition or negotiation. If
he refused this test, grounded on the sole motive of
a coalition of parties, he would leave the Duke of
Portland and Lord Fitzwilliam, and all the sound
part of their friends, at liberty to take such steps as
they pleased for the public benefit ; and thus, by an
increase of reputation, they would gain more in the
nation than they lost in a faction that does not belong
to them ; and though, without question, that faction
would continue to fight, with Fox and Sheridan at
their head, yet, when it was clearly known what they

358 EDMUND BURKE [1792

fought for, and on what they divided with their old
friends, they would fight at every kind of disadvan-
tage ; but things have taken another turn. The
Duke of Portland does not dare to propose a test to
Fox, and Lord Loughborough did not dare to propose
an abdication of the Treasury to Pitt. The thing that
encourages Pox to take the steps, and to make the
demands he does, is a persuasion he cannot part with,
that is, that the king is grown quite weary of Pitt ;
that he is intolerable to His Majesty, and that, in that
humour, he has no objection at all to him, Fox.
I have no doubt that he is confirmed in those senti-
ments by the ex-Chancellor ; but I am sure that they
both either deceive themselves wholly, or, at least,
greatly exaggerate the grounds of their hope.

So far as to this. To your Indian interests I have
little to say. I rejoice in the conclusion of the war.
I rejoice in the glory which Lord Cornwallis has
acquired in the war, and in its termination ; I wish
only that you had some share in the advantage of it,
which you do not hint at, and I believe is not the
ease. Lord Guildford, and I believe with ground, is
reported to be the successor of Lord Cornwallis.
I believe he may have it if he pleases. You may be
sure, if that should prove as it is supposed, you will
not be neglected. What do you say to the Duke of
Portland's being Chancellor to the University of
Oxford ? It was not originally proposed by ministers,
but it was countenanced by them. Character had the
chief operation. He is vastly pleased. The Duke of
Beaufort was the other candidate, but he has given
up his pretensions. The Duke of Portland was offered
the blue ribbon, but he has declined it. He is vastly
pleased with the other. . . .

1792] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUK 359

RIGHT HOIST. EDMUND BTTEKE TO RICHABD

BURKE, Jro., ESQ.
Beaconsfield, Sunday, September 9, 1792.

MY D'EABEST RlOHAED,

The horrid scenes which succeed each other with
such dreadful rapidity, hardly leave one ease enough
of heart or clearness of head to put down anything,
even of our own affairs, on paper to you with any
tolerable coherence. However, amidst these horrors,
and after reading the abominable palliation of these
horrors in our abominable newspaper, as my morning's
treat, I am first to bless God that I have not the
greatest of all possible domestic afflictions to add to
the effects of those public calamities on our minds.
Your mother, I bless God, grows stronger and strenger.

Your uncle proposes to meet us at Bath. Thence
he will go to Weymouth. The Duke of Portland is
well of his accident, which had near been fatal. We
f thank you heartily for your early letter from Dublin,
which we received yesterday morning. Thank Godt
for your good passage. We were a little uneasy from
the steady prevalence of winds in the westerly quarter,
which were besides, at times, very boisterous. I have
no doubt that the Herculean faction, whose manoeuvres
you speak of, will find the grand juries as ready an
organ of their politics as they did the House of
Commons. The Catholics complain of the oppression
of these grand juries. The grand juries declare they
wish to continue the power of oppression ; who
doubts them ? As to you, my dear Richard, be
assured, that in private conversations, in an affair of
this difficulty and extent, you can do nothing.
Reserve and coolness, and unwillingness to begin or
continue discourses on this subject, and not too great
a quickness to hear, will give the enemy a better
opinion of your discretion, and make them respect
you the more. Besides, by leaving them to them-
selves, they will be less heated with controversy, and
disposed to think more dispassionately upon the

360 EDMUND BURKE [1792

subject. Your mind you will open to your confidential
friends in the committee, there it is necessary ; and
that restraint which is prudence with enemies, is
treachery with friends. What degree of temperate
and steady firmness you may find amongst them,
I know not. But everything will depend upon that
combination, that is, the combination of perse-
verance with coolness, and great choice in measures.
You cannot too often inculcate to your chief friends,
that this affair is of such a nature, that it cannot
possibly be the work of a single day, or of a single act.
The web has been too long weaving to be unravelled
in an instant. No evils, but much good would happen,
if it were so unravelled. But that is hardly to be
expected without some event which we cannot pro-
duce, and would not produce if we could ; such as
the American war and its issue, which brought on
ideas of Irish independence, and these again the
necessity of conciliating the Catholics. This hastened
their relief to the point in which it stands by many
years. The petition to the king I hold an essential
preliminary; for any further application to Par-
liament, (whither, to be sure, you must come at last,)
until the mind of Government and the public in both
kingdoms is better prepared than now it is, is to throw
away prematurely your last resource. It is a jest to
apply to the House of Commons. It would only
subject the people to a renewal of the former outrages,
and harden the enemy in his oppressive temper and
principle. As to the rest, for God's sake, when you
see any of the Castle people, oppose a little prudent
dissimulation to their fraud. There is no danger that
you will carry it too far. As to your own friends, you
will soon see how they are disposed to the petition,
and to a series of connected measures. A fire, and
away, will never do. But whatever their dispositions
may be, do not you press anything upon them beyond
their power of bearing it ; and above all, do not form
any sort of rash resolution, let their behaviour be
what it will. Nothing but temper can keep them or

1792] TO RICHARD BURKE, JUN. 361

you together, or conduct this long business to a
desirable end. Don't think this advice to come from
an opinion you are likely to fail in this point. Your
temper and self-command, thank God, are much
better than mine are, or ever have been. I say
nothing of the affairs of France, though they are never
a moment absent from my mind. Oh God ! They do
not suffer anything else to occupy it. What scenes 1
And what "will be the end of them ? All agree that
they have not, probably, murdered fewer than seven
thousand in this last massacre. As for that admirable
and heroic clergy, who had devoted themselves to the
fury of their robbers ; that order begins to fly hither
in great numbers every day. The Bishop of St. Pol
supports them to a miracle by his exertions. A general
subscription is become necessary, and I flatter myself
it will do. I have put down but twenty ; but Metca]f ,
who was here, generously put his name down for
a hundred ; Col. Ironside for fifty ; Lord IncMquin
twenty ; and our good parsonage, five guineas. So
the bishop has got, by his visit here, nearly two
hundred. We have already about five hundred and
sixty mouths to maintain. It is plain that the aban-
doned gang in France put their whole trust in the
pledge in their hands, and draw out for murder a cer-
tain number of victims proportioned to the advances
of the Duke of Brunswick ; and here, the infernal
faction applaud their policy. We are going to set off
with the promise of a reasonable April day. God bless
and preserve you now and ever !

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BXTBKE TO THE COMTE
DE MERCY

August, 1793.
SIB,

I am infinitely obliged to your Excellency for your
generous intentions with regard to my young relation,
Nagle. Whenever he comes to possess enough of the
French or German languages to be fit to be presented
to your Excellency, he will solicit that honour, if his

362 EDMUND BURKE [1793

military destination should permit him to profit of
your condescension and goodness. General Count
Dalton has been so very kind as to give him his first
commission in his own regiment. I hope that, in
course of time, your Excellency's powerful protection,
and his own good behaviour, in endeavouring to merit
the enviable distinction, will ensurrhis future advance-
ment. It is a thing about which I am anxious, as
I am much deceived if he is not a good lad.

I shall always recoUect, with the highest satis-
faction, the morning which you did me the honour to
spend at my house ; and if it has given anything like
a favourable impression of me and my intentions to
one of your Excellency's judgement, experience, and
knowledge of men and affairs, I shall remember it
with as much pride as gratitude. If anything in my
conversation has merited your regard, I think it must
be the openness and freedom with which I commonly
express my sentiments. You are too wise a man not
to know that such freedom is not without its use ;
and that by encouraging it, men of true ability are
enabled to profit by hints thrown out by under-
standings much inferior to their own, and which they
who first produce them are, by themselves, unable to
turn to the best account. I am sure there is one
circumstance which will induce your Excellency to
forgive the freedom that I used formerly, or that
I may now use ; it is the perfect deference with which
everything I suggest is submitted to your judgement.

I flatter myself, too, that you are pleased with my
zeal in this cause. I certainly look upon it to be the
cause of humanity itself. I perfectly concur with you
in fchat opinion, provided I understand, as I trust
I do, the true object of the war. I do not exclude
from amongst the just objects of such a confederacy
as the present, the ordinary securities which nations
must take against their mutual ambition, let their
internal constitutions be of what nature they will.
Bat the present evil of our time, though in a great
measure an evil of ambition, is not jxne of common

1793] TO THE COMTE DE MERCY 363

political ambition, but in many respects entirely
different. It is not the cause of nation as against
nation ; but, as you will observe, the cause of mankind
against those who have projected the subversion of
that order of things, under which our part of the world
has so long flourished, and indeed, been in a pro-
gressive state of improvement ; the limits of which, if
it had not been thus rudely stopped, it would not
have been easy for the imagination to fix. If I con-
ceive rightly of the spirit of the present combination,
it is not at war with France, but with Jacobinism.
They cannot think it right, that a second kingdom
should be struck out of the system of Europe, either
by destroying its independence, or by suffering it to
have such a form in its independence, as to keep it,
as a perpetual fund of revolutions, in the veiy centre
of Europe, in that region which alone touches almost
every other, and must influence, even where she does
not come in contact. As long as Jacobinism subsists
there, in any form, or under any modification, ii is
not, in my opinion, the gaining a fortified place or
two, more or less, or the annexing to the dominion
of the allied powers this or that territorial district,
that can save Europe, or any of its members. We are
at war with a principle, and with an example, which
there is no shutting out by fortresses, or excluding by
territorial limits. No lines of demarcation can bound
the Jacobin empire. It must be extirpated in the
place of its origin, or it will not be confined to that
place. In the whole circle of military arrangements
and of political expedients, I fear that there cannot
be found any sort of merely defensive plan of the least
force, against the effect of the example which, has
been given in Prance. That example has shown, for
the first time in the history of the world, that it is
very possible to subvert the whole frame and order
of the best constructed states, by corrapting the
common people with the spoil of the superior classes.
It is by that instrument that the French orators have
accomplished their purpose, to the ruin of France ;

364 EDMUND BUEKE [1793

and it is by that instrument that, if they can establish
themselves in France, (however broken or curtailed
by themselves or others,) sooner or later, they will
subvert every government in Europe. The effect of
erroneous doctrines may be soon done away ; but the
example of successful pillage is of a nature more
permanent, more applicable to use, and a thing which
speaks more forcibly to the interests and passions of
the corrupt and unthinking part of mankind, than a
thousand theories. Nothing can weaken the lesson
contained in that example, but to make as strong an
example on the other side. The leaders in France
must be made to feel, in order that all the rest there,
and in other countries, may be made to see that such
spoil is no stare possession. It will be proper to let
the leaders of such factions know that when they
shake the property of others, they can never convert
their spoil into property in their own favour ; either
m the specific object of their robbery, or in any repre-
sentative which they may choose to give ifc. The
people at large, in all countries, ought to be made
sensible, that the symbols of public robbery never
can have the sanction and the currency that belong
exclusively to the symbols of public faith. If any
government should be settled in France, upon any
other idea than that of the faithful restitution of all
property of all descriptions, and that of the rigorous
and exemplary punishment of the principal authors
and contrivers of its ruin, I am convinced to a cer-
tainty, that property, and along with property,
government, must fall in every other state in Europe,
in the same manner in which they have both fallen
in France. I am convinced that twenty years would
be too long a period to fix for such an event, under
the operation of such causes as are now at work. As
to France itself, no form of government which human
wit can contrive, or human force compel, can have
a longer duration there than those miserable tottering
constitutions, which have been erected on false
foundations, for those four years past have had ;

1793] TO THE COMTE DE MEECY 365

because the new, or the restoration of the old govern-
ment, will be deprived of that solid foundation which
connects property with the safety of the state. If
the old proprietors (of whatever name) be not restored,
an immense mass of possession will be thrown into
hands who have been enriched by the subversion of
the monarchy, and who never can be trusted for its
support. Nothing, I am persuaded, can be done, with
the smallest (prospect of permanence, but by com-
pletely counteracting all those crude systems with
which mankind have been surfeited ; and by putting
everything, without exception, as nearly as possible,
upon its former basis. When this, (the short and
simple method,) for which we have no need to have
recourse to abstruse philosophy or intricate politics,
is done, we may then talk with safety upon some
practical principles of reforming what may be amiss ;
with the comfortable assurance to honest, who are
the only wise men, that if they should not be able to
make any reformation whatsoever in the ancient order
of things, the worst abuses which ever attended it
would be ten thousand times better for the people than
all the boasted reforms in the scheme of innovation.

It is very fortunate for those who may have the
happiness of contributing to the settlement of Irance,
(in which your Excellency may have a share, which
I envy you), that the fraudulent currency founded
upon this robbery has, of itself, sunk so very low, as
to leave but one, ^and that a very short step, ^ to its
utter annihilation." The utter destruction of assignats,
and the restoration of order in Europe, are one and
the same thing. A reasonable public credit, and
some retribution to those who have suffered by its
destruction, may be hoped for, when this immense
mass of fraud and violence, which has usurped its
place, is totally destroyed, so as not to leave the
slightest trace of its ever having existed.

It is the contempt of property, and the setting up
against its principle certain pretended advantages
of the State, (which, by the way, exists only for its

366 EDMUND BURKE [1793

conservation,) that has led to all the other evils which
have ruined France, and brought all Europe into the
most imminent danger. The beginning of the whole
mischief was a false idea that there is a difference in
property, according to the description of the persons
who held it under the laws ; and that the despoiling
a minister of religion, is not the same robbery with the
pillage of other men. They who, through weakness,
gave way to the ill-designs of bad men in that confisca-
tion, were not long before they practically found their
error. The spoil of the royal domain soon followed the
seizure of the estates of the church. The appanages
of the king's brothers immediately came on the heels
of the usurpation of the royal domain ; the property
of the nobility survived but a short time the appanages
of the princes of the blood-royal. At length the
moneyed and the movable property tumbled on the
ruin of the immovable property; and at this day,
no magazine, from the warehouses of the East India
Company to the grocer's and the baker's shop, pos-
sesses the smallest degree of safety. I am perfectly
persuaded that there does not exist 'the smallest
chance, under the most favourable issue of military
operations, of restoring monarchy, order, law, and
religion, in France, but by doing justice, under wise
regulations, to those ecclesiastics who have been
robbed of their estates by the most wicked and the
most foolish of all men ; by those who took the lead
in the constituent assembly.

In this opinion, give me leave to assure your
Excellency, I am far from single. It is the decided
sense of all thinking men, who are well-affected to the
cause of order in this country. The necessity of
providing for such ecclesiastics as are in the British
dominions, has often led the conversation to that
subject. We have had opportunities of knowing and
considering them in all points of view ; and if their
re-establishment were not a valid claim of justice, yet
their personal merits, and the rules of sound policy,
would strongly recommend it. We did not believe,

1793] TO THE COMTE DE MERCY 367

before we had an opportunity of seeing it realized
before our eyes, that, in such a multitude of men, so
much real virtue had existed in the world. We are
convinced, that a number of persons so disposed,
and so qualified as they are, if restored to their
country, their property, and the influence which
property in good hands carries with it, would be
a necessary supplement to the use of arms ; and
that under a wise administration, they might do great
things indeed for restoring France to the civilized
world. Without this help, such a deplorable havoc
is made in the minds of men (both sexes) in France,
still more than in the external order of things, and the
evil is so great and spreading, that a remedy is
impossible on any other terms.

Perhaps to a mind formed like that of your
Excellency to give a preference to that kind of policy
which is most connected with generosity, honour, and
justice, the opinions of people in England ought to
have some weight ; partly, that we cannot be supposed
influenced in this point by the spirit of sect; and
partly, because we may be supposed to have made
a sort of equitable purchase of a right to a voice
m their affairs. The maintenance of these worthy
and meritorious persons, scanty as it is for each
individual, has already cost us upwards of seventy
thousand pounds sterling. Unfortunately, this kind
of resource cannot continue long. Surely it is as
reasonable that they should be maintained from their
own property, as from yours, or from our English
charity.

It is with a real satisfaction, and which highly
enhances the pleasure we feel from the glory of your
arms, that you have gone before me in the restitution
of some kinds of property in Cond6 and Valenciennes.
If Providence should so far favour the allied arms,
that the whole of the French Netherlands should^ be
reduced, the restitution of all kinds of ecclesiastical
estates would form a very essential resource for many
that are upon your and upon our hands.

368 EDMUND BURKE [1793

Since I have taken the liberty of troubling you so
far, you win excuse me if, once for all, I trespass
a little longer on your generous indulgence. There is
matter essential enough to justify a good deal of
discourse. I shall, however, touch only on a very
few heads, which I leave entirely to your Excellency's
more mature consideration.

It is a thing singular in our age, and, I believe,
without example in any, that in so large and important
a part of Europe as France, no person, and no body
politic whatsoever, is recognized in the character of
its lawful government, or as representing that govern-
ment. It is not necessary to point out to one of your
sagacity, the fatal consequences of this state of things,
and its effect upon the reputation of the great powers
engaged in this war. These powers appear, with
regard to Prance, in no other way than in the light of
an enemy to the nation universally ; and not, as when
they made the declaration of last summer, as the
enemy only of a pernicious faction tyrannizing in
that country ; a light in which no belligerent power
ever did appear, if he could possibly avoid it. Indeed,
not to recognize the government in the legal successor
to the monarchy, is virtually to acknowledge the usurpa-
tion, and to justify the murder, or, what is worse than
the murder, the deposition and pretended trial of the
king. I am afraid, too, that it is a [principal cause of
the dreadful treatment of the now king, and particu-
larly that of the queen, whose situation, grief, horror,
and indignation, leave me no power of describing;
nor is it necessary to any one, much less to you.
Several of the most sensible and dispassionate observers
are astonished at this procedure. They are astonished
at the situation of the brothers of the late king, two
mild and benevolent princes, and worthy of a better
destiny. They feel the same as to the nobility of
France, who have comported themselves so as to merit
the esteem and respect of all honourable and feeling
minds. It is wonderful that, amongst such a vast
multitude of gentlemen as we have seen here, some of

1793] TO THE COMTE DE MERCY 369

them, too, very young, and who have not had time
to have their principles confirmed, not one of them,
notwithstanding the pressure of very argent circum-
stances, has been known to do a' single low and
unworthy action. These, as far as we know, are
treated, some with more, some with less attention.
The persons are more considered than the cause ; none
are taken up as our natural allies, and as sufferers in
a cause which we have in common. They are treated
just as fugitives or exiles m an ordinary local and
domestic dispute, in which there is no general concern.
This, in my opinion, both with regard to the princes,
and the crown party in France, is a dangerous mistake.
The late king fell, because the rebels thought that in
him they should be able to extinguish the monarchy,
as they conceived that the regards of other powers
were personal only, and not political. To say the
truth, appearances seem too much to favour that
opinion. They are, therefore, encouraged to take
every step, which their malice, baseness, and wicked
policy can suggest, with the queen, and those precious
parts of the royal family which are in their hands.
As to those abroad, they conceive that no interest is
taken in them ; and that the sole objects of any sort
of care are those whom they may treat as they please.
They would cease to heap indignities on those per-
sonages, and hourly to threaten them with death, if
they saw that the monarchy was treated as existing
in all, who, by the laws and by proximity of blood, had
an interest in it. The monarchy must exist somewhere
in act and representation ; but the throne cannot be
represented by a prison. Its virtue and operation
must be where it can act and appear, if not with
suitable dignity, at least with freedom. Monsieur is,
by the reason and necessity of the case, (stronger than
all law,) regent of that kingdom. If I were to speak
my wishes, and what would perhaps be best, if France
were any way settled, the queen would be regent.
What is there to prevent it, if that event, which
cannot be brought about but by the great powers,

370 EDMUND BURKE [1793

(I mean the settlement of France,) should take place ?
In the meantime, the monarchy, as well as the
monarch, ought not to be reputed to be imprisoned in
the Conciergerie, and all the states of the kingdom to
suffer a total eclipse.

It is to the Emperor that the world looks for pro-
tection of the cause of all government, in the protection
of the monarchy of France. His personal virtues,
Ms rank in Europe, his relation to the queen-dowager
and the young king, make him the fittest to authorize
this arrangement provisionally. "No person can now,
or hereafter, hope to be regent, or anything else,
against his will. The French monarchy, if it ever can
be restored, languishing, feeble, and tottering, with
an infant king, and a convalescent royalty, will, for
a long time, be rather an object of protection than of
jealousy, in any of its magistracies, to the Emperor,
or to any foreign power.

Excuse, sir, this long letter. My mind has for some
time suffered too much anxiety and agitation to
enable me properly to compress and digest my thoughts.
I cannot see the dignity of a great kingdom, and,
with its dignity, all its virtue, imprisoned or exiled,
without great pain. I cannot help making their case
my own, and that of my friends who adhere to the
same cause ; and whilst I feel my share in the common
gratitude of Europe to His Imperial Majesty, to his
ministers and his generals, for the security which, for
the time, we enjoy like the rest of mankind, I look
for the most of future service to the same quarter
from whence we have received most for the time past.

Be pleased, sir, to do me the honour to accept
my assurances of the most respectful attachment,
and believe me,

Sir, your Excellency's most obedient
and faithful humble servant,
EDM. BURKE.

1794] TO RICHARD BURKE, JW. 371

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BUBKE TO RIOHAED
BTJKKE, JTJN., ESQ.

January 10, 1794.
MY DEAREST RICHARD,

In this calamitous time, I cannot tell what ought
to be credited or not. Everything the least credible,
and the least desirable, bids the fairest to be true.
If you should see King, ask him whether the Royalists
are, or are not, now in force at Noirmontier ? Or, if
if he does not know, whether they have ever sent
a cutter to try ? Because if they are not all there,
succours may be sent them in provision, ammunition,
&c. by that way, as by any other. Is it wholly
impossible that Grandelos may have been sent with
false intelligence, as to the strength of the enemy at
Cancale, 1 &c. ? Have they consulted the Bishop of
St. Pol, or any other Breton, with regard to any other
place more to the westward of St. Malo, in that
province ? But they are not in earnest. By accident
have you seen Serent ?

As to our home politics, I can very easily believe,
on putting all things together, that Fox, with much
blame of the war, its principle, and its conduct, may
agree to another kind of support of it than he has
hitherto given, and more approaching to the system
of the Duke of Portland and Lord Rtzwilliam. He
may be even disposed to a coalition. He sees that the
body of his party is melting away very fast ; and that,
in a little time, nothing will remain to him but a
handful of violent people. I take it for granted he
will come to the moderates, and by thus reuniting the
party, put himself into a condition to negotiate with
advantage, or to oppose with more credit and effect.
Who the mountain are which he is to quit, I cannot
conceive. I considered him as the mountain, and the
others as only hillocks, or rather, mice, that he had
been brought to bed of. He never will break with
Sheridan; but I can easily believe that Sheridan

1 On the northern coast of Bretagne, near St, Malo.

372 EDMUND BURKE [1794

and all the rest are sickened by the cutting off their
friend Egalite, Brissot, and the company of their
patriotic Mends and correspondents. They have no
longer any link by which they can connect themselves
with France ; they will of course endeavour to piece
up their own broken connexions in England. If they
can do this, their first end will be obtained, and they
will take the chances of things for further connexions.
It is through the Duke of Portland they will work
directly, and not through me. I am perfectly per-
suaded, that the last thing in the world which Fox
will do, is to endeavour to reconcile himself to me.
If he should, I confess I should feel myself in a very
awkward situation. But I do not apprehend any
such thing.

Your uncle has had two very good nights. Your
mother is reasonably well, I bless God. May He
ever bless and protect you. Adieu 1 Adieu '

BIGHT Hox. EDMUND BTJRKE' TO EMPEROR
WOODFORD, ESQ.

January 13, 1794.
MY DEAR SIR,

I do not know exactly in what light I am to con-
sider the extent of a letter which you have shown me.
I do not even know that Mr. Fox wishes it to be
communicated to me as a paper containing his ideas.
Indeed, it is not very material whether he does or no,
for it says very little. It is short, dry, general,
reserved ; and from these causes, I think, rather
obscure. It is, however, far from my disposition to
repel anything which might even remotely lead to
an agreement, especially with a man of Mr. Fox's
great importance, at a time which, God knows,
would make the concurrence of abilities, and an
authority of infinitely less consequence than his, an
object to be sought with the utmost earnestness.

Supposing the paper, then, to come from some
person who is well acquainted with Mr. Fox's present

1794] TO EMPEROR WOODFORD 373

opinions and resolutions, I, who have no reserves,
make no scruple at all in telling you how it appears
to me.

I see nothing very distinct in it, except that
Mr. Fox has not altered his original opinions with
regard to the impolicy of the war. I am extremely
sorry to find that he has not, because these opinions
must necessarily have a great and decisive influence
on the plan on which he will support it, as well as upon
the terms on which he will be willing to put an end to
it. An unjust and impolitic war never can be pursued
like a war which we believe to be founded in justice
and reason. Almost any peace appears to us to be
good, which cuts short the duration of an impolitic
war.

Besides, I must fairly say, that if a more mature
consideration of the train of events, and his own
solid judgement operating on that series of things,
leave his mind exactly where it was with regard to the
cause and principles of this war, (though I sincerely
wish it may appear to Mm otherwise,) I confess I do
not see any essential difference in the state of things
in France at present, from what it was at the end of
last session, when he made a formal motion for peace.

The great difficulty will be upon points, I fear,
too important not to produce discussions ; that is,
what is the object of the war on the part of the enemy,
and on our own ? And on what grounds are terms of
peace to be proposed ?

If I understand it, this paper states two cases ;
one immediate, the other more remote. The first
case is the present, in which the writer supposes that
no person can make peace. I presume he means, in
the actual state in which administration stands in
France or in England, or in both. In this case he
supposes that war, and the preparations of war,
ought to go on.

Upon this I take the liberty to observe, that the
state of administration is as transient as a glance of
the eye ; and that a change in them, either here or

374 EDMUND BURKE [1794

there, would in an instant annihilate this case, and
put us, on the supposition here stated, in a condition
to treat for peace with the Jacobins.

The other is a case in which the determination is
more strong and clear ; and on its supposed existence
Mr. Fox, or the writer of this paper, concludes, * that
the war is to be supported with vigour.' But then
this case is somewhat remote, and somewhat con-
tingent. It depends upon two hypotheses : the
first, that conditions of peace, such as described in
that paper, are not accepted ; and the second, that
France shall not be in a negotiable condition.

As to the first hypothesis, if I understand the
matter rightly, it supposes the rejection of the terms
that our court shall offer ' with security, honour, and
safety, to the constitution of this country.' Now what
terms these are which we ought to offer, I cannot so
much as guess. Nothing is specified ; but it appears
that some such are to be proposed, as a preliminary
condition to any engagement on the part of the
person for whom the paper speaks, for his c carrying
on the war with vigour '.

Besides, I must observe, that the case in this paper
is stated, as if there were no political relations but
such as exist between us and France. No notice is
taken of our allies, a material part of the considera-
tion. Perhaps it is included in the word s honour 5 , but
this is too lax to enable me to form any judgement.

The other hypothesis, upon which the war ought
s to be carried on with vigour ', though last put, must
be preliminary to the other ; that is, that France
shall not be 4 in a negotiable condition '. It is not
said, nor even hinted, what state of things in France
may be said to put her in a condition negotiable, or
not negotiable. On this point there may be a very
great variety of opinions. We know that such a
variety does exist ; and that some people seem to
be persuaded that France is in a negotiable state at
this very hour.

I am not at all in their sentiments. On the contrary,

1794] TO EMPEROR WOODFORD 375

I am very sure that France is not now at all in a nego-
tiable condition. But I go further. I am satisfied
there is not any reason to think that she "will be,
within a time to be calculated, in such a condition ;
and, therefore, I am humbly of opinion, that now, and
for a good while to come, and without any preliminary
suppositions, the war ought to be carried on with aU
possible vigour.

I am very far from wishing to put myself in the
cautious defensive attitude of an adversary, with
Mr. Fox. It is not without great pain that I differ
from him at all. I therefore make no difficulty in
telling him very frankly, when, and under such
circumstances, I shall think France in a negotiable
condition, and when not.

When I see a fundamental change in its whole
system, by the extinction of Jacobin clubs, by the
re-establishment of religion, and the restitution of
property on its old foundations, and when I see
a government, whatever it may be, founded upon
that property, and regulated by it, I shall then think
France in a negotiable condition.

Till then, I am of opinion, that no peace can be
made with the fanatics of that country, under any
name, or any shape they may assume, which will be
safe, or which will not be, indeed, more effectually and
permanently ruinous to us than any war.

I cannot persuade myself that this war bears any
the least resemblance (other than that 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.

I do not know whether it be inferable directly
from the paper, but I think it may indirectly be
concluded from it, that if an administration could be
formed in France, (though on Jacobin principles and
with a Jacobin establishment,) which showed signs of

376 EDMUND BURKE [1794

permanence and stability, we ought to enter into
amity, possibly into an alliance, with that power.
For my part, the more permanent the Jacobin system
promises to be, the more I shall be alarmed at it ;
convinced as I am, and ever have been, that if that
system is not destroyed in France, it will infallibly
destroy the present order of things from one end of
Europe to the other. We are, as I think, fighting for
our all. In that conflict, when things are desperate,
to be sure we must submit. But thus submitting, I am
certain that a King of England will be no more than
Cogidunus or Kong Prasutagus or any other of the
Reguli, who held under the Romans in this country,
or than a Nabob of Arcot, or a Soubah of Oude, under
the East India Company ; and as to the people,
property would not be, in England, really worth five
years' purchase.

The conversations of your friend turned, it seems,
a great deal on arrangements. On things of this
nature, as I have seldom been consulted, I give no
other than a general opinion, which is, that I most
ardently wish and pray for a coalition of parties ; but
I wish, too, that a very full understanding of views
and maxims should precede that coalition, lest, under
an appearance of quieting the dissensions of the
kingdom, we should see an administration formed,
which would be torn to pieces within itself whilst it
continued, and would very speedily break up with
resentments kindled into tenfold fury, to the infinite
aggravation of the public calamities, and the utter
ruin of the kingdom.

It is late, and I cannot send you this by to-night's
post ; but you will have it on Wednesday.

I am, with the most sincere affection,

My dear sir,

Your most faithful and obedient humble servant,

EDM. BUBKE,

1795] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 377

THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BUEKE TO
REV. DE. HTJSSEY

Beaconsfield, Hay 18, 1795.
MY DEAE SIE,

I don't know exactly why I am so unwilling to
write by the post. I have little to say that might
not be known to the world ; at the same time, there
is something unpleasant in talking the confidential
language of friendship in the public theatre. It is
still worse to put it into the power of any one to make
unfaithful representations of it, or to make it the
subject of malicious comments. I thank you for your
letter ; it is full of that good sense and good temper,
as well as of that fortitude, which are natural to you.
Since persons of so much greater authority than I am,
and of so much better judgement, are of opinion you
ought to stay, it was clearly right for you to remain
at all risks. Indeed, if it could be done with tolerable
safety, I wished you to watch over the cradle of those
seminaries, on which the future weal or woe of Ireland
essentially depends. For you, I dread the revolu-
tionary tribunal of Drogheda. For the country, if
some proper mode of education is not adopted, I
tremble for the spread of atheism amongst the
Catholics. I do not like the style of the meeting 1 in
Francis Street. The tone was wholly Jacobinical.
In Parliament, the language of your friends (one only
excepted,) was what it ought to be. But that one
speech, though full of fire and animation, was not
warmed with the fire of heaven. I am sorry for it.
I have seen that gentleman but once. He is certainly
a man of parts ; but one who has dealt too much in
the philosophy of France. Justice, prudence, tender-
ness, moderation, and Christian charity, ought to
become the measures of tolerance ; and not a cold
apathy, or indeed, rather a savage hatred, to all

1 The assembly of the Roman Catholics held April 0th,
1795. in Francis Street chapel.

378 EDMUND BURKE [1795

religion, and an avowed contempt of all those points
on which we differ, and on those about which we
agree. If what was said in Francis Street was in the
first heat, it might be excused. They were given to
understand that a change of administration, short
only of a revolution in violence, was made, only on
account of a disposition in a Lord-Lieutenant to
favour Catholics. Many provoking circumstances
attended the business ; not the least of them was,
that they saw themselves delivered over to their
enemies, on no other apparent ground of merit than
that they were such. All this is very true ; but under
every provocation they ought not to be irritated by
their enemies out of their principles, and out of their
senses. The language of the day went plainly to a
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 thing, however, is impossible. Those
who should attempt that improbability would be
undone.^ If ever the arms, which, indirectly, these
orators seem to menace, were to be taken up, surely
the threat of such a measure is not wise, as it could
add nothing to their strength, but would give every
possible advantage to their enemies. It is a foolish
language, adopted from the United Irishmen, that
their grievances originate from England. The direct
contrary. It is an ascendancy which some of their
own factions have obtained here, that has hurt the
Catholics with this Government. It is not as an
English Government that ministers act in that manner,
but as assisting a party in Ireland. When they talk
of dissolving themselves as a Catholic body, and
mixing their grievances with those of their country,
all I have to say is, that they lose their own importance
as a body by this amalgamation ; and they sink real
matters of complaint in those which are factious and
imaginary. For, in the name of God, what grievance
has Ireland, as Ireland, to complain of with regard to
Great Britain ; unless the protection of the most

1795] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 379

powerful country upon earth, giving all her privi-
leges, without exception, in common to Ireland, and
reserving to herself only the painful pre-eminence of
ten-fold burdens, be a matter of complaint. The
subject, as a subject, is as free in Ireland as he is 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 manu-
facture of Ireland is not only not prohibited, not only
not 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 with more advantage
than she could have it from any nation upon earth.
I say nothing of the immense advantage she derives
from the use of the English capital. In what country
upon earth is it, that a quantity of linens, the moment
they are lodged in the warehouse, and before the sale,
would entitle the Irish merchant or manufacturer to
draw bills on the terms, and at the time, in which this
is done by the warehouseman on London ? Ireland,
therefore, as Ireland, whether it be taken civilly,
constitutionally, or commercially, suffers no grievance.
The Catholics, as Catholics, do; and what can be
got by joining their real complaint to a complaint
which is fictitious, but to make the whole pass for
fiction and groundless pretence ? I am not a man
for construing with too much rigour the expressions of
men under a sense of ill-usage. I know that much is
to be given to passion ; and I hope I am more dis-
posed to accuse the person who provokes another to.
anger, than the person who gives way to natural
feelings in hot language. If this be all, it is no great
matter; but, if anger only brings out a plan that
was before meditated, and laid up in the mind, the
thing is more serious. The tenor of the speeches in
IPrancis Street, attacking the idea of an incorporating
union between the two kingdoms, expressed principles

380 EDMUND BURKE [1795

that went the full length of a separation, and of a
dissolution of that union, which arises from their
"being under the same crown. That Ireland would, in
that case, come to make a figure amongst the nations,
is an idea which has more of the ambition of individuals
in it, than of a sober regard to the happiness of a whole
people. But if a people were to sacrifice solid quiet to
empty glory, as on some occasions they have done ;
under the circumstances of Ireland, she, most assuredly,
never would obtain that independent glory, but
would certainly lose all her tranquillity, afl. her pros-
perity, and even that degree of lustre which she has,
by the very free and very honourable connexion she
enjoys with* a nation the most splendid and the most
powerful upon earth. Ireland, constitutionally, is
independent ; politically, she never can be so. It is
a struggle against nature. She must be protected,
and there is no protection to be found for her, but
either from lYance or England. Prance, even if
(under any form she may assume) she were disposed
to give the same liberal and honourable protection to
Ireland, has not the means of either serving or hurting
her, that are in the hands of Great Britain. She might
make Ireland (supposing that kind of independence
could be maintained, which for a year I am certain
it could not) a dreadful thorn in the side of this king-
dom ; but Ireland would dearly buy that malignant
and infernal satisfaction, by a dependence upon
a power, either despotic, as formerly, or anarchical,
as at present. We see, well enough, the kind of liberty
which she either enjoys herself, or is willing to bestow
on others. This I say with regard to the scheme of
those who call themselves United Irishmen; that is
to say, of those who, without any regard to religion,
club all kinds of discontents together, in order to
produce all kinds of disorders. But to speak to
Catholics, as such, it is plain that whatever security
they enjoy for their religion, as well as for the many
solid advantages which, even under the present restric-
tions, they are entitled to, depends wholly upon their

1795] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 381

connexion with this kingdom. France is an enemy to
all religion ; but eminently, and with a peculiar
malignity, an enemy to the Catholic religion, which
they mean, if they can, to extirpate throughout the
globe. It is something perverse, and even unnatural,
for Catholics to hear even the sound of a connexion
with France ; unless, under the colour and pretext of
a religious description, they should, as some have done
in this country, form themselves into a mischievous
political faction. Catholics, as things now stand, have
all the splendid abilities, and much of the independent
property in Parliament in their favour, and every
Protestant (I believe with very few exceptions) who is
really a Christian. Should they alienate these men
from their cause, their choice is amongst those, who,
indeed, may have ability, but not wisdom or temper
in proportion ; and whose very ability is not equal,
either in strength or exercise, to that which they lose.
They will have to choose men of desperate property,
or of no property ; a.nd men of no religious, and no
moral principle. Without a Protestant connexion of
some kind or other, they cannot go on ; and here are
the two sorts of descriptions of Protestants between
whom they have an option to make. In this state of
things, their situation, I allow, is difficult and delicate.
If the better part lies by, in a sullen silence, they still
cannot hinder the more factious part both from
speaking and from writing; and the sentiments of
those who are silent will be judged by the effusions of
the people, who do not wish to conceal thoughts that
the sober part of mankind will not approve. On the
other hand, if the better and more temperate part
come forward to disclaim the others, they instantly
make a breach in their own party, of which a malignant
enemy will take advantage to crush them all. They
will praise the sober part, but they will grant them
nothing they shall desire ; ' nay, they will make use
of their submission as a proof that sober men are
perfectly satisfied in remaining prostrate under their
oppressive hands. These, are dreadful dilemmas ; and

382 EDMUND BURKE [1795

they are such as ever will arise, when men in power
are possessed with a crafty malignant disposition,
without any real wisdom or enlarged policy.

However, as, in every case of difficulty, there is
a better way of proceeding and a worse, and that some
medium may be found between an abject and, for
that reason, an imprudent submission, and a contu-
macious, absurd resistance, what I would humbly
suggest is, that on occasion of the declamations in the
newspaper, they should make, not an apology, (for
that is dishonourable and dangerous,) but a strong
charge on their enemies for defamation ; disclaiming
the tenets, practices, and designs, impudently attri-
buted to them, and asserting, in cool, modest, and
determined language, their resolution to assert the
privileges to which, as.good citizens and good subjects,
they hold themselves entitled, without being intimi-
dated or wearied out by the opposition of the monopo-
lists of the kingdom. In this, there will be nothing
mean or servile, or which can carry any appearance of
the effect of fear ; but the contrary. At the same time,
it will remove the prejudices which, on this side of the
water as well as on yours, are propagated against you
with so much systematic pains. I think the com-
' mittee would do well to do something of this kind in
their own name. I trust those men of great ability
in that committee, who incline to think that the
Catholics ought to melt down their cause into the
general mass of uncertain discontents and unascer-
tained principles, will, I hope, for the sake of agreeing
with those whom, I am sure, they love and respect
among their own brethren, as well as for the sake of
the kingdom at large, waive that idea (which I do not
deny to be greatly provoked) of dissolving the Catholic
body before the objects of its union are obtained, and
turning the objects of their relief into a national
quarrel. This, I am satisfied, on recollection, they
will think not irrational. The course taken by the
enemy often becomes a fair rule of action. You see,
by the whole turn of the dejbate against them, that

1795] TO BEV. DR. HUSSEY 383

their adversaries endeavoured to give this colour to
the contest, and to make it hinge on this principle.
The same policy cannot be good for you and your
enemies. Sir George Shee, who is so good to take this,
waits, or I should say more on this point. I should
say something too of the colleges. I long much to
hear how you go on. I have, however, said too much.
If Grattan, by whom I wish the Catholics to be wholly
advised, thinks differently from me, I wish the whole
unsaid. You see, Lord Fitzwilliam sticks nobly to
his text, and neither abandons his cause or his friends,
though he has few indeed to support him. When you
can, pray let me hear from you. Mrs. Burke and
myself, in this lonely and disconsolate house, never
cease to think of you as we ought to do. I send some
prints to Dublin; but, as your house is not there,
I reserve a memorial of my dear Richard for your
return.

I am ever, my dear Sir,

Faithfully, and affectionately,

Your miserable friend,
EDM. BTJRKB.

To DB. LAURENCE
Friday Night, 10 o'clock, November 18, 1796.

MY BEAR LAURENCE,

I have been out of sorts for several days past, but
have not been so much weakened by that circumstance
as I might have feared. I don't desire long letters
from you, but, I confess, I wish a line now and then,
I mean very near Uterally, a line. The present state
of things, both here and in Ireland, as well as abroad,
seems to me to grow every moment more critical.
In Ireland it is plain they have thrown off all sort of
political management, and even the decorous appear-
ance of it. They had for their commander-in-chief
Cuninghame, a person utterly unacquainted with military
affairs beyond what was necessary for a quartermaster-

384 EDMUND BURKE [1796

general in a peaceable country He had never seen
war, hardly in any image, but he was a man of a>
moderate and humane disposition, and one, from whom
no acts of atrocity were to be apprehended. In order
to remove him from the command of the army, they
have made him a peer. This was a step to the appoint-
ment of Luttrell, to the full as little experienced in any
real military service as Cuninghame but younger and of
far different dispositions. In case of an actual invasion,
they could not expect anything whatsoever from his
military skill or talents. The only proof they had of
either has been in his desperate promptitude, without
either civil, criminal, or martial law, to seize upon
poor ploughmen in their cottages, and to send them
bound where he thought fit. By what he is capable
of and by what he is incapable, they show in what
manner it is they mean to provide for the military
defence and for the civil tranquillity and happiness
of Ireland. They have fomented a spirit of discord
upon principle in that unhappy country. They have
set the Protestants, in the only part of the country
in which the Protestants have any degree of strength,
to massacre the Catholics. The consequence will be
this, if it is not the case already, that instead of
dividing these two factions, the Catholics, finding
themselves outlawed by their Government, which has
not c>nly employed the arm of abused authority against
them, but the violence of lawless insurrection, will use
the only means that is left for their protection in a
league with those persons who have been encouraged
to fall upon them, and who are as well disposed to
rebel against all government, as to persecute their
unoffending fellow citizens. The Parliament, en-
couraged by the Lord-Lieutenant's Secretary, has
refused so much as to inquire into these troubles.
The only appearance of any inquiry which has been,
is that put into the hands of a person, I mean the
Attorney-General, one of the avowed enemies and
persecutors of the suffering people, and in the closest
connexion with them. I see that the affections of the

1796] TO DK. LAUBENCE 385

people are not so much as looked to, as any one of
the resources for the defence of Ireland against the
invasion which the enemy will make upon that
country, if they have force enough to do it consistently
with their other views ; but, I confess, that from the
least reflexion I am able to make in the intervals of
pain and sorrow, I do not think that the invasion of
either of these countries is a primary object in their
present plan of policy their views seem to me to
be directed elsewhere, and their object is, to disable
this country from any effectual resistance to them,
by alarming us with fears for our domestic safety.
They have gained their ends completely. The arrange-
ments, which we have made and are making in both
kingdoms for that safety, provide for it in the worst
possible manner, whilst they effectually disable us
from opposing the enemy upon his larger and real
plan of attack We oppose to his false attack the
whole of our real strength. I have long doubted of the
use of a militia, constituted as our miStia is ; because
I do not like in time of war any permanent body of
regular troops in so considerable a number as perhaps
to equal the whole of our other force, when it is only
applicable to one and that but a very uncertain part
of the demands of general service. Whether I am
right or wrong may be a question with persons better
informed than I am, but it has been my opinion at
least these twenty years. If I did not declare it in
Parliament, it was because the prejudice was too
strong to be prudently resisted ; but when danger
comes, strong piejudices will be found weak resources.
Whatever the merits of militia may be, I am sure
that no prudent persons with whom I have ever con-
versed have been of opinion that it ought to be extended
beyond the old number. Other ideas however have pre-
vailed. The infant resources of Ireland have been ex-
hausted by establishing a militia there, upon the feeble
plan of the militia here, and with consequences much
more justly to be apprehended from an abuse of that
institution. Whether with regard to the economical
237

386 EDMUND BURKE [1796

and civil effects on the military, they have now in
both kingdoms added immensely to that erroneous
establishment, if erroneous it is, and have thereby
doubled the weakness instead of augmenting the
strength of these kingdoms. I believe it will be found,
that in both countries there is, by personal service or
by public charge, the burden of an army forming or
formed of at least fourscore thousand men utterly
unapplicable to the general service of the country,
or to the conservation of what I shall ever think as
much for its being as self defence itself, I mean the
safety and liberty of Europe. The very idea of active
defence, the only sure defence, which consists in offen-
sive operations against your enemy, seems wholly to
be abandoned.

I know it will be said that these corps do not bring
upon the nation the burden of half pay This is true
but in part, and in my opinion, if war should continue,
it will become less and less of an object. At any rate
it will be found as economy a very poor resource to
make out such a saving by the limitation of effect
and service.

I do not mean to say that such little aids to the
police as by an occasional use of a yeoman cavalry,
which is in the nature Marechaussee, is much to be
condemned. If the service is not much, the charge
is not ruinous, and our military arm is not crippled.
In my opinion, the expense of these arrangements
would furnish such a subsidy to Russia, as would
enable that power to act with such a body of troops
against the common enemy, as to do more for our
real defence than from any home arrangements that
we can make. I have said enough upon this subject,
though by no means all that is in my mind ; but if
you agree with me in principle, your own thoughts
will more than supply my omissions.

I have suffered great uneasiness from another
scheme, the tendency of which evidently is (though
I am of opinion nothing is less intended) totally to
disgust the people with the continuance of this war

1796] TO DR. LAURENCE 387

I mean that part of the people upon whose soundness
and spirit the very being of civil society at this time
depends, that is, that part of the people who live
with a degree of decency .upon an income not likely
to improve. They are the part of the community
which are naturally attached to stability and to the
resistance of innovation, but are not qualified to
afford pecuniary resources to the State. They may
serve to furnish a contingent in the way of taxes
which is to be supplied as their income accrues, or
as their economy finds supply, but they have no
hoards, and if you apply to them for a forced loan,
you drive them into the toils of the usurers, who
win disable them from paying what they are already
charged to the support of the State. Sure it were
better to borrow directly at a high interest, that is
at the interest of the public necessities, and to lay
upon those men their share of it, than to take this
perplexed circuitous course, which, in the end, will
weaken public credit by destroying most of the private
credit of the kingdom.

I was going further, when my friendly Amanuensis
reminded me that it is near 10 o'clock; I am afraid

1 have tired you, though I tire myself somewhat less
by dictating a sheet than by writing twenty lines.
However, one is more wordy when one dictates.
I intended if I had time, to tell you that Keogh is
come to London, and to wish to have yours and
Lord Fitzwtlliam's, as well as Mr. Windham's thoughts
upon the subject of his journey, when I know better
of what nature it may be. He shows a very great
desire of seeing me and conversing with me upon the
subject of Ireland. I have fought it off by giving Mm
very true reasons, that is to say, my feeble state of
health, and the contempt that is entertained for nay
opinions, especially in what relates to Ireland. He
tells me he has not been with any minister. He is
a man that on the whole I think ought not to be
slighted, though he is but too much disposed to
Jacobin principles and connexions in his own nature,

388 EDMUND BURKE [1796

and is a Catholic only in name not but that whole
body, contrary to its nature, has been driven by art
and policy into Jacobinism, in order to form a pretext
to multiply the jobs and to increase the power of that
foolish and profligate junto to which Ireland is
delivered over as a farm. I shall let you know further
about Keogh when I hear from him ; and I shall send
to Lord Fitzwilliam his letters to me, as well as a copy
of my answer to him I shall send you another copy
Good night.

Yours ever,

EDMUND BURKE.

TO THE SAME

Beaconsfield, December 25, 1796.

MY DEAB LAURENCE,

I agree with you, that the footing upon which the
Ministers had put their negotiation, involves them in
difficulties with regard not only to the Opposition, but
to themselves and their sole ally, and to the sole ally
which they had hopes of acquiring, as well as to the
miserable inhabitants of the islands who had incor-
porated themselves upon our faith into the British
Empire; and who never henceforward can strike
a blow with heart either in their own favour, or that
of our feeble and perfidious Government. Surely, this
business will give you a fair opportunity of coming
forward. You cannot appear with more lustre or at
a better season, for explaining the silent vote you
have given, as well as in asserting the principles which
might seem to be rendered doubtful by that vote.
I suppose Lord Fitzwilliam will come up in consequence
of the Duke of Bedford's motion, if not upon the
message. Pray send me word by the coach whether
it went down yesterday, and if it did not, when it is
to be looked for. It is a very extraordinary thing,
that merely because Lord Malmesbury, in execution of
his wretched and contemptible office, proposed to

1796] TO DR. LAURENCE 389

keep two places that we had taken, and not from
Prance, that he should be turned ofi at eight and forty
hours notice. Good God, what were the humiliations
which the President de la Rouillie and the Marquis
de Toacy suffered in Holland, in comparison of this.
They never were sent away at all ; on the contrary,
though their offers were not received, they were
invited in the most pressing manner to stay. I fear
the nation is not equal to this trial, and that having
been once kicked, they may think they may as well
be kicked on to the end of the chapter. 'Rome,
thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods 1 ' and Lord
Malmesbury will be found, at least I greatly fear it,
a true representative of the people of England. Adieu,
and many happy returns of the season. We are sorry
not to have had you at our turkey and roast beef.
Alas ! the times have been, when you would have
found a more full and cheerful family, but I was
unworthy of it, and have lost it by my own fault.
Learn from me never to trifle with such blessings as
God may give you. I forgot to speak to you about
Mackintosh's supposed conversion. I suspect by "his
letter, that it does not extend beyond the interior
politics of this island, but that, with regard to France
and many other countries, he remains as frank a
Jacobin as ever. This conversion is none at all;
but we must nurse up these nothings, and think these
negative advantages as we can have them. Such as
he is, I shall not be displeased if you bring him down ;
bad as he may be, he has not yet declared war along
with his poor friend Wild against the Pope.

Ever, ever yours,

E. B.

The accounts from poor Woodford seem to be a
little better. This weather is sadly against a case and
cure like his.

390 EDMUND BURKE [1796

TO THE SAME

Beaconsfield, December 28, 1796.

MY DEAB LAURENCE,

The declaration, though it has not astonished me,
has not given me great defection of spirits. There is
a sort of staggering and irresolution in the cowardice
of others, but there is a sort of unconquerable firmness,
a kind of boldness, in the pusillanimity of Mr. Pitt.
His Inadness is of the moping kind, but it is not the
less frenzy for being fixed in lowness and dejection.
He is actually taking every means to divest this country
of any alliance or possibility of alliance, and he is
determined that no spirit shall arise within this
country, not knowing what course that spirit might
take. I do not know whether I ought to be glad or
not, of Lord Fitzwilliam's coming to town. I think
it is impossible to attack Pitt for want of sincerity
in this negotiation ; though for wisdom it cannot be
defended. I do not wonder that they endeavour to
struggle for a port in the East Indies, and for a half-way
house at the Cape, for unless they had made Holland
truly independent and fixed her in attachment to us,
these places would be virtually given to the French,
and we could not maintain ourselves in the West
Indies, out of which at some time or other they mean
to drive us. When I say I do not wonder at it, I am
so far from approving it that my soul abhors it, but
I much more abhor their fatal system, out of the per-
plexities of which nothing can disengage them, but
their totally abandoning it. I am glad that the
business is put off to Friday, because your cold may
then become better. This thaw favours your recovery.
A cough is not to be trifled with, especially in a full
habit like yours. Unless a physician had dissuaded it,
I wished you had been blooded, I wish you to take
advice : that bleeding may yet be useful.

Mrs. Burke and myself, though neither of us passed

1796] TO DR. LAURENCE 391

a good night, are not worse to-day. God bless you.
The times are bad when experience does nothing
towards the correction of error.

Yours ever,

E.B.

FROM ME. BmaKE TO THOMAS KEOGH, ESQ.,
N" COFFEE-HOUSE

Beaconsfidd, November 17, 1796.
SIR,

I am so much out of the world, that I am not
surprised every one should be ignorant of, as he is
uninterested in, the state of my health, my habits of
life, or anything else that belongs to me.

Your obliging letter of the 20th of July was delivered
to me at Bath, to which place I was driven by urgent
necessity, as my only chance of preserving a life
which did not then promise a month's duration.
I was directed to suspend all application to business,
even to the writing of a common letter; as it was
thought that I had suffered by some such application,
and by the attendant anxiety, before and about that
time. I returned from Bath not well, but much
recovered from the state in which I had been ; and
I continued in the same condition of convalescence for
a month or six weeks longer. Soon after I began
gradually to decline, and at this moment I do not
find myself very materially better or stronger than
when I was sent to Bath.

I am obliged to you for the offer which you made
in that letter, of conveying anything from me to
Ireland; but I really thought you had known that
I have no kind of correspondence or communication
with that country, and that for a good while I had
not taken any part whatsoever in its affairs. I believe
you must have observed when last I had the honour
of seeing you in London, how little any opinions of
mine are likely to prevail with persons in power here,
even with those with whom I had formerly a long and

392 EDMUND BUKKE [1796

intimate connexion. I never see any of His Majesty's
Ministers, except one gentleman, who, from mere
compassion, has paid me some visits in this my retreat,
and has endeavoured by his generous sympathy to
soothe my pains and my sorrows : but that gentleman
has no concern in Irish affairs, nor is, I believe, con-
sulted about them. I cannot conceive how you or
anybody can think that any sentiments of mine are
called for, or even admitted, when it is notorious, that
there is nothing at home, or abroad, in war, or in
peace, that I have the good fortune to be at all pleased
with. I ought to presume that they who have a great
public trust, who are of distinguished abilities, and
who are in the vigour of their life, behold things in
a juster point of view than I am able to see them,
however my self-partiality may make me too tenacious
of my own opinion. I am in no degree of confidence
with the great leader either of Ministry or Opposition.
In a -general way, I am but too well acquainted with
the distracted state of Ireland, and with the designs
of the public enemy pointed at that kingdom. I have
my own thoughts upon the causes of those evils.
You do me justice in saying in your letter of July,
that I am a true Irishman. Considering as I do
England as my country, of long habit, of obligation,
and of establishment, and that my primary duties
are hers, I cannot conceive how a man can be a genuine
Englishman, without being at the same time a true
Irishman, though fortune should have made his
birth on this side the water. I think the same senti-
ments ought to be reciprocal on the part of Ireland,
and if possible with much stronger reason. Ireland
cannot be separated one moment from England,
without losing every source of her present prosperity,
and even hope of her future. I am very much afflicted,
deeply and bitterly afflicted, to see that a very small
faction in Ireland should arrogate it to itself to be
the whole of that great kingdom ; I am more afflicted
in seeing that a very minute part of that small faction
should be able to persuade any person here, that on

1796] TO THOMAS KEOGH 393

the support of their power the connexion of the two
kingdoms essentially depends. This strange error, if
persevered in (as I am afraid it will), must accomplish
the ruin of both countries. At the same time I must
as bitterly regret, that any persons who suffer by the
predominance of that corrupt fragment of a faction,
should totally mistake the cause of their evils, as well
as their remedy ; if a remedy can be at 7 all looked
for ; which I confess I am not sanguine enough to
"expect in any event, or from the exertions of any
person ; and least of all from exertions of mine, even
if I had either health or prospect of life commensurate
to so difficult an undertaking. I say, I do regret, that
the conduct of those who suffer should give any
advantage to those who are resolved to tyrannize.
I do believe that this conduct has served only as
a pretext for aggravating the calamities of that party,
which though superior in number, is from many
circumstances much inferior in force.

I believe there are very few cases which will justify
a revolt against the established government of a.
country, let its constitution be what it will ; and
even though its abuses should be great and provoking ;
but I am sure there is no case in which it is justifiable,
either to conscience or to prudence, to menace resistance
when there is no means of effecting it, nor perhaps in
the major part any disposition. You know the state
of that country better than I can pretend to do, but
I could wish, if there was any use in retrospect, that
those menaces had been forborne ; because they have
caused a real alarm in some weak though well inten-
tioned minds ; and because they furnish the bold
and crafty with pretences for exciting a prosecution
of a much more fierce and terrible nature than I ever
remember, even when the country was under a system
of laws, apparently less favourable to its tranquillity
and good government, at the same time that sober
exertion has lessened in the exact proportion in which
flashy menaces increased. Pusillanimity (as often it
does) has succeeded to rage and fury. Against all
03

394 EDMUND BURKE [1796

reason, experience, and observation, many persons in
Ireland have taken it into their heads, that the
influence of the Government here has been the cause
of the misdemeanour of persons in power in that
country, and that they are suffering under the yoke
of a British domination. I must speak the truth
I must say, that all the evils of Ireland originate
within itself ; that it is the boundless credit which is
given to an Irish Cabal, that produces whatever^
mischiefs both countries may feel in their relation.
England has hardly anything to do with Irish Govern-
ment. I heartily wish it were otherwise ; but the
body of the people of England, even the most active
politicians, take little or no concern in the affairs of
Ireland. They are, therefore, by the Minister of this
country, who fears upon that account no responsibility
here, and who shuns all responsibility in Ireland,
abandoned to the direction of those who are actually
in possession of its internal government : this has
been the case more eminently for these five or six
last years ; and it is a system, if it deserves that
name, not likely to be altered.

I conceive that the last disturbances, and those
the most important, and which have the deepest
root, do not originate, nor have they their greatest
strength, among the Catholics : but there is, and
ever has been, a strong republican Protestant faction
in Ireland, which has persecuted the Catholics as long
as persecution would answer their purpose, and now
the same faction would dupe them to become accom-
plices in effectuating the same purposes ; and thus
either by tyranny or seduction would accomplish their
ruin. It was with grief I saw last year with the
Catholic Delegates a gentleman, who was not of their
religion, or united to them in any avowable bond of
a public interest, acting as their secretary, in their
most confidential concerns. I afterwards found, that
this gentleman's name was implicated in a corre-
spondence with certain Protestant conspirators and
traitors, who are acting in direct connexion with the

1796] TO THOMAS KEOGH 395

enemies of all government and religion. He might be
innocent ; and I am very sure that those who
employed and trusted him, were perfectly ignorarit of
his treasonable correspondences and designs, if such
he had; but as he has thought proper to quit the
king's dominions about the time of the investigation
of that conspiracy, unpleasant inferences may have
been drawn from it. I never saw him but once, which
was in your company, and at that time knew nothing
of his connexions, character, or dispositions.

I am never likely to be called upon for my advice
in this, or in any business ; and after having once
almost forcibly obtruded myself into it, and having
found no sort of good effect from my uncalled-for
interference, I shall certainly, though I should have
better health than I can flatter myself with, never
again thrust myself into those intricate affairs.
Persons of much greater abilities, rank, and conse-
quence than I am, and who had been called by their
situation to those affairs, have been totally over-
whelmed by the domineering party in Ireland, and
have been disgraced and ruined ; as far as indepen-
dence, honour, and virtue can be ruined and disgraced.
However, if your leisure permits you to pay a visit
to this melancholy infirmary, I shall certainly receive
any information with which you are pleased to furnish
me ; but merely as news, and what may serve to feed
the little interest I take in this world. You will
excuse my having used the hand of a confidential
friend in this letter, for indeed I suffer much by
stooping to write.

I have the honour to be, &e.
EDMWD BTTEKE.

THE EIGHT HON. EDMUND BITBKE TO EBV. DE.
HTJSSEY

December, 1796,
MY DEAB SDR,

This morning I received your letter of the 30th of
November from Maynooth. I dictate my answer

396 EDMUND BURKE [1796

from my couch, on which I am obliged to lie for
a good part of the day. I cannot conceal from you,
much less can I conceal from myself, that in all
probability I am not long for this world. Indeed,
things are in such a situation, independently of the
domestic wound, that I never could have less reason
for regret in quitting the world than at this moment ;
and my end will be, by several, as little regretted.

I have no difficulty at all in communicating to
you, or, if it were any use, to mankind at large, my
sentiments and feelings on the dismal state of things
in Ireland ; but I find it difficult indeed to give you
the advice you are pleased to ask, as to your own
conduct in your very critical situation.

You state, what has long been but too obvious,
that it seems the unfortunate pokey of the hour, to
put to the far largest portion of the king's subjects in
Ireland the desperate alternative, between a thankless
acquiescence under grievous oppression, or a refuge in
Jacobinism, with aU. its horrors and all its crimes.
You prefer the former dismal part of the choice.
There is no doubt but that you would have reason, if
the election of one of these evils was at all a security
against the other. But they are things very alliable,
and as closely connected as cause and effect. That
Jacobinism which is speculative in its origin, and
which arises from wantonness and fullness of bread,
may possibly be kept under by firmness and prudence.
The very levity of character which produces it, may
extinguish it. But Jacobinism which arises from
penury and irritation, from scorned loyalty and
rejected allegiance, has much deeper roots. They
take their nourishment from the bottom of human
nature, and the unalterable constitution of things, and
not from humour and caprice, or the opinions of the
day about privileges and liberties. These roots will
be shot into the depths of hell, and will at last raise
up their proud tops to heaven itself. This radical evil
may baffle the attempts of heads much wiser than
those are, who, in the petulance and riot of their

1796] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 397

drunken power, are neither ashamed nor afraid to
insult and provoke those whom it is their duty, and
ought to be their glory, to cherish and protect.

So then, the little wise men of the west, with every
hazard of this evil, are resolved to persevere in the
manly and well-timed resolution of a war against
Popery. In the principle, and in all the proceedings,
it is perfectly suited to their character. They begin
this last series of their offensive operations, by laying
traps for the consciences of poor foot-soldiers. They
call these wretches to their church, (empty of a
volunteer congregation,) not by the bell, but by the
whip. This ecclesiastic military discipline is happily
taken up, in order to form an army of well-scourged
Papists into a firm phalanx for the support of tlie
Protestant religion. I wish them joy of this their
valuable discovery in theology, politics, and the art
military. Fashion governs the world, and it is the
fashion in the great French Empire of pure and perfect
Protestantism, as well as in the little busy meddling
province of servile imitators, that apes at a humble
distance the tone of its capital, to make a crusade
against you poor Catholics. But whatever may be
thought in Ireland of its share of a war against the
Pope in that out-lying part of Europe, the zealous
Protestant, Bonaparte, has given his late holiness
far more deadly blows, in the centre of his own power,
and in the nearest seats of Ms influence, than the
Irish directory can arrogate to itself within its own
jurisdiction, from the utmost efforts of its political
and military skill. I have my doubts (they may
perhaps arise from my ignorance) whether the glories
of the night expeditions, in surprising the cabin
fortresses in Louth and Meath, or whether the
slaughter and expulsion of the Catholic weavers by
another set of zealots in Armagh, or even the proud
trophies of the late potato field 1 in that county, are

1 Burke alludes to popular disturbances in Louth
and Meath, and the very questionable means taken by

398 EDMUND BURKE [1796

quite to be compared with the Protestant "victories on
the plains of Lombardy, or to the possession of the
flat of Bologna, or to the approaching sack of B/ome,
where, even now, the Protestant commissaries give
the law. In all this business, Great Britain, to us
merely secular politicians, makes no great figure, but
let the glory of Great Britain shift for itself as it may.
All is well, provided Popery is crushed.

This war against Popery furnishes me with a ^ clue
that leads me out of a maze of perplexed politics,
which, without it, I could not in the least understand.
I now can account for the whole. Lord Malmesbury
is sent to prostrate the dignity of the English monarchy
at Paris, that an Irish, Popish common soldier may be
whipped in, to give an appearance of habitation, to
a deserted Protestant church in Ireland: Thus we
balance the account ; defeat and dishonour abroad ;
oppression at home. We sneak to the regicides, but
we boldly trample on our poor fellow-citizens. But
all is for the Protestant cause.

The same ruling principle explains the rest. We
have abdicated the crown of Corsica, which had been
newly soldered to the crown of Great Britain and to
the crown of Ireland, lest the British diadem should
look too like the Pope's triple crown. We have run
away from the people of Corsica, and abandoned them
without capitulation of any kind in favour of those of
them, who might be our friends ; but then it was for
their having capitulated with us for Popery, as a part
of their Constitution. We made amends for our sins
by our repentance, and for our apostasy from
Protestantism, by a breach of faith with Popery.
We have fled, overspread with dirt and ashes, but
with hardly enough of sackcloth to cover our naked-
ness. We recollected that this island (together with
its yews and its other salubrious productions) had

the Irish Government to suppress them ; to the attacks
on the Catholics in Armagh by Orangemen ; and probably
to the c Battle of the Diamond ' in that county, in Sept.
1795,

1796] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 399

given birth to the illustrious champion of the Protes-
tant world, Bonaparte. It was, therefore, not fit (to
use the favourite French expression) that the cradle of
this religious hero should be polluted by the feet of
the British renegade slaves, who had stipulated to
support Popery in that island, whilst his friends and
fellow-missionaries are so gloriously employed in
extirpating it in another. Our policy is growing every
day into more and more consistency. We have showed
our broad back to the Mediterranean ; we have aban-
doned too the very hope of an alliance in Italy ; we
have relinquished the Levant to the Jacobins ; we
have considered our trade as nothing ; our policy and
our honour went along with it. But all these objects
were well sacrificed to remove the very suspicion of
giving any assistance to that abomination the Pope,
in his insolent attempts to resist a truly Protestant
power resolved to humble the papal tiara, and to
prevent his pardons and dispensations from being
any longer the standing terror of the wise and virtuous
directory of Ireland ; who cannot sit down with any
tolerable comfort to an innocent little job, whilst his
bulls are thundering through the world. I ought to
suppose that the arrival of General Hoche is eagerly
expected in Ireland ; for he, too, is a most zealous
Protestant, and he has given proof of it, by the studied
cruelties and insults by which he put to death the old
Bishop of Dol, whom (but from the mortal fear I am
in lest the suspicion of Popery should attach upon me)
I should call a glorious martyr, and should class him
amongst the most venerable prelates that have
appeared in this century. It is to be feared, however,
that the zealots will be disappointed in their pious
hopes, by the season of the year, and the bad condition
of the Jacobin navy ; which may keep him this winter
from giving his brother Protestants his kind assistance
in accomplishing with you, what the other Mend of
the cause, BonapaYte, is doing in Italy; and what
the masters of these two pious men, the Protestant
Directory of France have so thoroughly accomplished

400 EDMUND BURKE [1796

in that, the most Popish, but unluckily, whilst Popish,
the most cultivated, the most populous, and the most
flourishing of all countries, the Austrian Netherlands.

When I consider the narrowness of the views, and
the total want of human wisdom displayed in our
western crusade against Popery, it is impossible to
speak of it but with every mark of contempt and
scorn. Yet one cannot help shuddering with horror
when one contemplates the terrible consequences that
are frequently the results of craft united with folly,
placed in an unnatural elevation. Such ever will be
the issue of things, when the mean vices attempt to
mimic the grand passions. Great men will never do
great mischief but for some great end. For this, they
must be in a state of inflammation, and, in a manner,
out of themselves. Among the nobler animals, whose
blood is hot, the bite is never poisonous, except when
the creature is mad ; but in the cold-blooded reptile
race, whose poison is exalted by the chemistry of their
icy complexion, their venom is the result of their
health, and of the perfection of their nature. Woe to
the country in which such snakes, whose primum
mobile, is their belly, obtain wings, and from serpents
become dragons. It is not that these people want
natural talents, and even a good cultivation ; on the
contrary, they are the sharpest and most sagacious of
mankind in the things to which they apply. But
having wasted their faculties upon base and unworthy
objects, in anything of a higher order, they are far
below the common rate of two-legged animals.

I have nothing more to say just now upon the
<3irectory in Ireland, which, indeed, is alone worth
any mention at all. As to the half-dozen (or half-
score as it may be) of gentlemen, who, under various
names of authority, are sent from hence to be the
subordinate agents of that low order of beings, I con-
sider them as wholly out of the question. Their
virtues or their vices ; their ability* or their weakness ;
are matters of no sort of consideration. You feel the
thing very rightly. All the evils of Ireland originate

1796] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 401

within itself. That unwise body, the United Irishmen,
have had the folly to represent those evils as owing to
this country, when, in truth, its chief guilt is in its
total neglect, its utter oblivion, its shameful indif-
ference, and its entire ignorance of Ireland, and of
everything that relates to it, and not in any oppressive
disposition towards that unknown region. No such
disposition exists. English government has farmed
out Ireland, without the reservation of a peppper-corn
rent, in power or influence, public or individual, to the
little narrow faction that domineers there. Through
that alone they see, feel, hear, or understand, anything
relative to that kingdom. Nor do they any way inter-
fere, that I know of, except in giving their countenance,
and the sanction of their names, to whatever is done
by that junto,

Ireland has derived some advantage from its inde-
pendence on the Parliament of this kingdom, or
rather, it did derive advantage from the arrangements
that were made at the time of the establishment of
that independence. But human blessings are mixed,
and I cannot but think, that even these great blessings
were bought dearly enough, when along with the
weight of the authority, they have totally lost all
benefit from the superintendence of the British Par-
liament. Our pride of England is succeeded by fear.
It is little less than a breach of order, even to mention
Ireland in the House of Commons of Great Britain.
If the people of Ireland were to be flayed alive by the
predominant faction, it would be the most critical of
all attempts, so much as to discuss the subject in any
public assembly upon this side of the water. If such
a faction should hereafter happen, by its folly or its
iniquity, or both, to promote disturbances in Ireland,
the force paid by this kingdom (supposing our own
insufficient) would infallibly be employed to redress
them. This would be right enough, and indeed our
duty, if our public councils at the same time possessed
and employed the means of inquiring into the merits
of that cause, in which their blood and treasure were

402 EDMUND BURKE [1796

to be laid out. By a strange inversion of the order
of things, not only the largest part of the natives of
Ireland are thus annihilated, but the Parliament of
Great Britain itself is rendered no better than an
instrument in the hands of an Irish faction, This is
ascendancy with a witness ! In what all this will
end, it is not impossible to conjecture ; though the
exact time of the accomplishment cannot be fixed with
the same certainty as you may calculate an eclipse.

As to your particular conduct, it has undoubtedly
been that of a good and faithful subject, and of a man
of integrity and honour. You went to Ireland this
last time, as ^ou did the first time, at the express
desire of the English minister of that department,
and at the request of the Lord-lieutenant himself.
You were fully aware of the difficulties that would
attend your mission ; and I was equally sensible of
them. Yet you consented, and,. I advised, that you
should obey the voice of what we considered an indis-
pensable duty. We regarded, as the great evil of the
time, the growth of Jacobinism, and we were very
well assured, that, from a variety of causes, no part
of these countries was more favourable to the growth
and progress of that evil than our unfortunate country.
I considered it as a tolerably good omen, that Govern-
ment would do nothing further to foment and promote
the Jacobin malady, that they called upon you,
a strenuous and steady royalist, an enlightened and
exemplary clergyman, a man of birth and respectable
connexions in the country, a man well-informed and
conversant in state affairs, and in the general politics
of the several courts of Europe, and intimately and
personally habituated in some of those courts. I re-
gretted indeed that the ministry had declined to
make any sort of use of the reiterated informations
you had given them of the designs of their enemies,
and had taken no notice of the noble and disinterested
offers which, through me, were made, for employing
you to save Italy and Spain to the British alliance.
But this being past, and Spain and Italy lost, I was

1796] TO REV. DK. HUSSEY 403

in hopes that they were resolved to put themselves in
the right at home, by calling upon you ; that they
would leave, on their part, no cause or pretext for
Jacobinism, except in the seditious disposition of
individuals ; but I now see that, instead of profiting
by your advice and services, they will not so much as
take the least notice of your written representations,
or permit you to have access to them, on the part of
those whom it was your business to reconcile to
Government, as well as to conciliate Government
towards them. Having rejected your services, as a
friend of Government, and in some sort in its employ-
ment, they will not even permit to you the natural
expression of those sentiments, which every man of
sense and honesty must feel, and which every plain
and sincere man must speak, upon this vile plan of
abusing military discipline, and perverting it into an
instrument of religious persecution. You remember
with what indignation I heard of the scourging of the
soldier at Carrick for adhering to his religions opinions.
It was at the time when Lord PitzwMam went to
take possession of a short-lived Government in Ireland
breves et infaustos populi Hiberni.

He could not live long in power, because he was
a true patriot, a true friend of both countries, a
steady resister of Jacobinism in every part of the world.
On this occasion he was not of my opinion. He thought,
indeed, that the sufferer ought to be relieved and
discharged, and I think he was so ; but, as to punish-
ment to be inflicted on the offenders, he thought more
lenient measures, comprehended in a general plan to
prevent such evils in future, would be the better
course. My judgement, such as it was, had been that
punishment ought to attach, so far as the laws per-
mitted, upon every evil action of subordinate power,
as it arose. That such acts ought at least to be marked
with the displeasure of Government, because general
remedies are uncertain in their operation when
obtained ; but that it is a matter of general uncer-
tainty whether they can be obtained at all. For

4:04 EDMUND BURKE [1796

a time, Ms appeared to be the better opinion. Even
after he was cruelly torn from the embraces of the
people of Ireland, when the militia and other troops
were encamped (if I recollect right) at Loughlinstown,
you yourself, with the knowledge and acquiescence
of Government, publicly performed your function to
the Catholics then in service. I believe, too, that all
the Irish, who had composed the foreign corps taken
into British pay, had their regular chaplains. But
we see that things are returning fast to their old
corrupted channels. There they will continue to flow.

If any material evil had been stated to have arisen
from this liberty, that is, if sedition, mutiny, dis-
obedience of any kind to command, had been taught in
their chapels, there might have been a reason for, not
only forcing the soldiers into churches where better
doctrines were taught, but for punishing the teachers
of disobedience and sedition. But I have never heard
of any such complaint. It is a part, therefore, of the
systematic ill-treatment of Catholics. This system
never will be abandoned, as long as it brings advantage
to those who adopt it. If the country enjoys a momen-
tary quiet, it is pleaded as an argument in favour of
the good effect of wholesome rigours. If, on the
contrary, the country grows more discontented, and
if riots and disorders multiply, new arguments are
furnished for giving a vigorous support to the authority
of the directory, on account of the rebellious disposition
of the people. So long, therefore, as disorders in the
country become pretexts for adding to the power and
emolument of a junto, means will be found to keep one
part of it, or other, in a perpetual state of confusion
and disorder. This is the old traditionary policy of
that sort of men. The discontents which, under them,
break out amongst the people, become the tenure by
which they hold their situation.

I do not deny that, in these contests, the people,
however oppressed, are frequently much to blame ;
whether provoked to their excesses or not, undoubtedly
the law ought to look to nothing but the offence, and

1796] TO REV. DR. HUSSBY 405

punish it. The redress of grievances is not less neces-
sary than the punishment of disorders, but it is of
another resort. In punishing, however, the law ought
to be the only rule. If it is not of sufficient force,
a force consistent with its general principles ought to
be added to it. The first duty of a state is to provide
for its own conservation. Until that point is secured,
it can preserve and protect nothing else. But, if
possible, it has greater interest in acting according to
strict law than even the subject himself. For, if the
people see that the law is violated to crush them, they
will certainly despise the law. They, or their party,
will be easily led to violate it, whenever they can, by
all the means in their power. Except in cases of
direct war, whenever Government abandons law, it
proclaims anarchy. I am well aware (if I cared one
farthing, for the few days I have to live, whether the
vain breath of men bio w hot or cold about me,) that
they who censure any oppressive proceeding of Govern-
ment are exciting the people to sedition and revolt.
If there be any oppression, it is very true ; or if there
be nothing more than the lapses, which will happen
to human infirmity at all times, and in the exercise
of all power, such complaints would be wicked indeed.
These lapses are exceptions implied; an allowance
for which is a part of the understood covenant, by
which power is delegated by fallible men to other men
that are not infallible ; but, whenever a hostile spirit
on the part of Government is shown, the question
assumes another form. This is no casual error, no
lapse, no sudden surprise ; nor is it a question of civil
or political liberty. What contemptible stuff it is
to say, that a man who is lashed to church against Ms
conscience, would not discover that the whip is painful,
or that he had a conscience to be violated, unless
I told him so ! Would not a penitent offender, con-
fessing his offence, and expiating it by his blood, when
denied the consolation of religion at his last moments,
feel it as no injury to himself ; or that the rest of the
world would feel so horrible and impious an oppression

406 EDMUND BUEKE [1796

with no indignation, unless I happened to say it ought
to be reckoned amongst the most barbarous acts of
our barbarous time ? Would the people consider the
being taken out of their beds and transported from
their family and friends, to be an equitable, and
legal, and charitable proceeding, unless I should say
that it was a violation of justice and a dissolution,
pro tanto, of the very compact of human society ?
If a House of Parliament, whose essence it is to be the
guardian of the laws, and a sympathetic protector of
the rights of the people, and eminently so of the most
defenceless, should not only countenance, but applaud
this very violation of all law, and refuse even to
examine into the grounds of the necessity, upon the
allegation of which the law was so violated, would
this be taken for a tender solicitude for the welfare
of the poor, and a true proof of the representative
capacity of the House of Qommons, unless I should
happen to say (what I do say) that the House had not
done its duty, either in preserving the sacred rules of
law, or in justifying the woeful and humiliating
privilege of necessity ? They may indemnify and
reward others. They might contrive, if I was within
their grasp, to punish me, or, if they thought it worth
their while, to stigmatize me by their censures ; but
who will indemnify them for the disgrace of such an
act ? who will save them from the censures of pos-
terity ? What act of oblivion will cover them from
the wakeful memory, from the notices and issues of
the grand remembrancer the God within ? Would
it pass with the people, who suffer from the abuse of
lawful power, when at the same time they suffer from
the use of lawless violence of factions amongst them-
selves, that Government had done its duty, and acted
leniently in not animadverting on one of those acts
of violence, if I did not tell them that the lenity with
which Government passes by the crimes and oppres-
sions of a favourite faction, was itself an act of the
most atrocious cruelty ? If a Parliament should hear
a declamation, attributing the sufferings of those who

1796] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 407

are destroyed by these riotous proceedings to their
misconduct, and then to make them self-felonious,
and should in effect refuse an inquiry into the fact,
is no inference to be drawn from thence, unless I tell
men in high places that these proceedings, taken
together, form, not only an encouragement to the
abuse of power, but to riot, sedition, and a rebellious
spirit, which, sooner or later, will turn upon those
that encourage it ?

I say little of the business of the potato field,
because I am not acquainted with the particulars.
If any persons were found in arms against the Mng,
whether in a field of potatoes, or of flax, or of turnips,
they ought to be attacked by a military power, and
brought to condign punishment by course of law. If
the county in which the rebellion was raised was not
in a temper fit for the execution of justice, a law ought
to be made, such as was made with regard to Scotland,
in the suppression of the rebellion of forty-five, to try
the delinquents. There would be no difficulty in con-
victing men who were found 'flagrante delicto \ But
I hear nothing of all this. No law, no trial, no punish-
ment commensurate to rebellion, nor of a known
proportion to any lesser delinquency, nor any dis-
crimination of the more or the less guilty. Shall you
and I find fault with the proceedings of France, and
be totally indifferent to the proceedings of directories
at home ? You and I hate Jacobinism as we hate the
gates of hell. Why ? Because it is a system of
oppression. What can make us in love with oppression
because the syllables 'Jacobin* are not put before
the ' ism ', when the very same things are done under
the * ism ' preceded by any other name in the directory
of Ireland ?

I have told you, at a great length for a letter,
very shortly for the subject and for my feelings on
it, my sentiments of the scene in which you have been
called to act. On being consulted, you advised the
sufferers to quiet and submission ; and, giving Govern-
ment full credit for an attention to its duties, you held

408 EDMUND BUEKE [1796

out, as an Inducement to that submission, some sort
of hope of redress. You tried what your reasons and
your credit would do to effect it. In consequence of
this piece of service to Government, you have been
excluded from all communication with the Castle ;
and perhaps you may thank yourself that you are not
in Newgate. You have done a little more than, in your
circumstances, I should have done. You are, indeed,
very excusable from your motives ; but it is very
dangerous to hold out to an irritated people any
hopes that we are not pretty sure of being able to
realize. The doctrine of passive obedience, as a
doctrine, it is unquestionably right to teach, but to go
beyond that, is a sort of deceit ; and the people who
are provoked by their oppressors, do not readily
forgive their friends, if, whilst the first persecute, the
other appear to deceive them. These friends lose all
power of being serviceable, to that government in
whose favour they have taken an ill-considered step ;
therefore, my opinion is, that, until the Castle shall
show a greater disposition to listen to its true friends
than hitherto it has done, it would not be right in you
any further to obtrude your services. In the mean-
time, upon any new application from the Catholics,
you ought to let them know, simply and candidly,
how you stand.

The Duke of Portland sent you to Ireland, from
a situation in this country of advantage and comfort
to yourself, and no small utility to others. You
explained to him, in the clearest manner, the conduct
you were resolved to hold. I do not know that your
writing to him will be of the smallest advantage.
I rather think not : yet I am far from sure that you do
not owe to him and yourself, to represent to his Grace
the matters which in substance you have stated to me.

If anything else should occur to me, I shall, as you
ask it, communicate my thoughts to you. In the mean-
time, I shall be happy to hear from you as often as
you find it convenient. You never can neglect the
great object of which you are so justly fond ; and let

1796] TO REV. DR. HUSSEY 409

rae beg of you not to let slip out of your mind the
idea of the auxiliary studies and acquirements which
I recommended to you, to add to the merely profes-
sional pursuits of your young clergy ; and, above all,
I hope that you will use the whole of your influence
among the Catholics, to persuade them to a greater
indifference about the political objects which at present
they have in view. It is not but that I am aware of
their importance, or that I wish them to be aban-
doned ; but that they would follow opportunities,
and not attempt to force anything. I doubt whether
the privileges they now seek, or have lately sought,
are compassable. The struggle would, I am afraid,
only lead to those very disorders which are made pre-
texts for further oppression of the oppressed. I wish
the leading people amongst them would give the most
systematic attention, to prevent frequent communica-
tion with their adversaries. There are a part of them
proud, insulting, capricious, and tyrannical. These,
of course, will keep at a distance. There are others
of a seditious temper, who would make them at first
the instruments, and in the end the victims, of their
factious temper and purposes. Those that steer
a middle course are truly respectable, but they are
very few. Your friends ought to avoid all imitation
of the vices of their proud lords. To many of these
they are themselves sufficiently disposed. I should
therefore recommend to the middle ranks of that
description, in which I include not only all merchants,
but all farmers and tradesmen, that they would
change as much as possible those expensive modes of
living, and that dissipation, to which our countrymen
in general are so much addicted. It does not at all
become men in a state of persecution. They ought to
conform themselves to the circumstances of a people,
whom Government is resolved not to consider as upon
a par with their fellow-subjects. Favour, they will
have none. They must aim at other resources ; and*
to make themselves independent in fad, before they
aim at a nominal independence. Depend upon it ?

410 EDMUND BURKE [1796

that, with half the privileges of the others, joined to
a different system of manners, they would grow to
a degree of importance, to which, without it, no
privileges could raise them, much less any intrigues or
factious practices. I know very well that such^ a
discipline, among so numerous a people, is not easily
introduced, but I am sure it is not impossible. If
I had youth and strength, I would go myself over to
Ireland to work on that plan ; so certain I am that the
well-being of all descriptions in the kingdom, as well
as of themselves, depends upon a reformation amongst
the Catholics. 'The work will be new, and slow in its
operation, but it is certain in its effect. There is
nothing which will not yield to perseverance and
method. Adieu ! my dear sir. You have full liberty
to show this letter to all those (and they are but very
few) who may be disposed to think well of my opinions.
I did not care, so far as regards myself, whether it
were read on the 'Change ; but with regard to you,
more reserve may be proper ; but of that, you will
be the best judge.

To DE. LAURENCE

Bath, February 10, 1797.
MY DEAR LAURENCE,

I have been very weak for some days past, and so
giddy that I am hardly able to walk across the room.
At the first coming on of this bad symptom I was not
able to do so much so that I am not without hopes
that it may go off, though, take me on the whole,
I am without all comparison worse than when I came
hither, but yet the violent flatus's have not been quite
so troublesome to me since the complaint in my head
is come on. They have taken the town, and are now
attacking the citadel But enough of this. The
affair of Mrs. Hastings has something in it that might
move a third Cato to a horse-laugh, though the
means, I am afraid, by which she and her paramour
have made that and all the sums which they have got

1797] TO DB. LAURENCE 411

by their own dishonesty, or lost by the dishonesty
ot others or the confusion of the times, [might cause]
the laughing Democritus to weep as much as Ms
opponent : but let whoever laugh or weep, nothing
plaintive will make Mr. Pitt or Mr Dundas blush
for having rewarded the criminal whom they prose-
cuted, and sent me and nineteen Members of Parlia-
ment to prosecute, for every mode of peculation and
oppression, with a greater sum of money than ever
yet was paid to any one British subject, except the
Duke of Marlbro', for the most acknowledged public
services, and not to him if you take Blenheim, which
was an expense and not a charge, out of the account.
All this and ten times more will not hinder them
from adding the Peerage, to make up the insuniciency,
of his pecuniary rewards. My illness, which came the
more heavily and suddenly upon me by this flagitious
act, whilst I was preparing a representation upon, it,
has hindered me, as you know, from doing justice
to that act, to Mr. Hastings, to myself, to the House
of Lords, to the House of Commons, and to the
unhappy people of India, on that subject. It has
made me leave the letters that I was writing to my
Lord Chancellor and Mr. Dundas, as well as my
petition to the House of Commons, unfinished. But
you remember, likewise, that when I came hither at
the beginning of last summer, I repeated to you
that dying request which I now reiterate, That if at
any time, without the danger of ruin to yourself, or
over-distracting you from your professional and
parliamentary duties, you can place in a short point
of view, and support by the documents in print and
writing which exist with me, or with Mr. Troward, or
yourself, the general merits of this transaction, you
will erect a cenotaph most grateful to my shade, and
will clear my memory from that load, which the East
India Company, King, Lords, and Commons, and in
a manner the whole British Nation, (God forgive
them,) have been pleased to lay as a monument upon
my ashes. I am as conscious as any person can be of

412 EDMUND BURKE [1797

the little value of the good or evil opinion of mankind
to the part of me that shall remain, but I believe it is
of some moment not to leave the fame of an evil
example, of the expenditure of fourteen years labour,
and of not less (taking the expense of the suit, and the
costs paid to Mr. Hastings, and the parliamentary
charges) than near 300,000. This is a terrible
example, and it is not acquittance at all to a public
man, who, with all the means of undeceiving himself
if he was wrong, has thus with such incredible pains
both of himself and others, persevered in the persecu-
tion of innocence and merit. It is, I say, no excuse at
all to urge in his apology, that he has had enthusiastic
good intentions. In reality, you know that I am no
enthusiast, but [according] to the powers that God
has given me, a sober and reflecting man. I have
not even the other very bad excuse, of acting from
personal resentment, or from the sense of private
injury never having received any ; nor can I plead
ignorance, no man ever having taken more pains to
be informed. Therefore I say, Remember.

Parliament is shortly to resume the broken thread
of its business if what it is doing deserves that name.
I feel the same anxiety for your success as if what has
been the best part of me was in your place, and
engaged as he would have been in the same work, and
I presume to take the same liberty with you that 1
would have done with him. The plan you have
formed, like all the plans of such comprehensive
minds as yours, is vast, but it will require all the skill
of a mind as judicious and selecting as yours, to bring
it within the compass of the apprehensions and dis-
positions of those upon whom it is to operate. There
would be difficulty in giving to it its just extent in the
very opening, if you could count even upon one person
able and willing to support you ; but as you will be
attacked by one side of the House with all its force,
reluctantly heard and totally abandoned by the other,
if you are permitted any reply at all, a thing which
under similar circumstances has been refused to me, it

1797] TO DR. LAURENCE 413

will not be heard by the exhausted attention of that
House, which is hardly to be kept alive, except to
what concerns the factious interests of the two
discordant chiefs, who with different personal views,
but on the same political principles, divide and
distract the nation. But all this I must leave to your
judgement, which, with less parliamentary experience,
has infinitely more natural power than mine ever
had, when it was at the best. This, only, I shall beg
leave to suggest, that if it should be impossible (as
perhaps it may be) to bring your opening speech
within any narrow compass, such as two hours, or
thereabouts, that you will make your reply as sharp,
and pointed at the personal attacks that I am sure
will be made upon you, as you can; and that you
will content yourself with reasserting the substance
of the facts, declaring your readiness to enter into them
if ever you are furnished with the means. I have no
doubt that in the course of the debate, or in this
session, you will find opportunities to bring forth
what your discretion may reserve on the present
occasion for a future one, when you may be at more
liberty. Though I am sensible enough of the difficulty
of finding a place in debate for any of those who are
not arranged in the line of battle, abreast or ahead, in.
support of the one or the other of the great admirals.
My dear friend, you will have the goodness to excuse
the interposition of an exhausted and sickly judgement
like mine, at its best, infirm, with a mind like yours,
the most robust that ever was made, and in the vigour
of its faculties ; but allowance is made for the anxious
solicitude of those, whom sex, age, or debility exclude
from a share in those combats in which they take
a deep concern.

Yours ever,

EDMUND BURKE.

February 12.

PS. My health continues as it was when I began
this letter. I have read Erskine's pamphlet, which

414 EDMUND BURKE [1797

is better done than I expected to find it. But it is
little more than a digest of the old matter, and a pro-
posal to remove all our evils by a universal popular
representation at home, by giving to France at once
all that we have thought proper to offer, on suppo-
sition of concession, and all that she has chosen to
demand without any regard to our concession, together
with a cordial connexion with her and a total alienation
from other powers, as a pledge of future peace. This,
together with bringing Mr. Fox into power, forms the
whole of the pamphlet. This would certainly make
short work of the treaty. This pamphlet does not
make your motion the less necessary, and without
a reference to it you may keep it in your eye.
Mrs. Burke, thank God, is better of her cold : She
salutes you.

To DB. LATJBENCE

Bath, May 12, 1797.
MY DEAR LATJBEN-CE,

The times are so deplorable, that I do not know
how to write about them. Indeed I can hardly bear
to think of them. In the selection of these mischiefs,
those, which have the most recently oppressed, and
overpowered, rather than exercised the shattered
remains of my understanding, are those of the Navy,
and those of Ireland. As to the first, I shall say
nothing, except this, that you must remember from
the moment the true genius of this French Revolution
began to dawn upon my mind, I comprehended what
it would be in its meridian ; and that I have often
said, that I should dread more from one or two mari-
time provinces in France, in which the spirit and
principles of that revolution were established, than
from the old French Monarchy possessed of all that its
ambition ever aspired to obtain ; that we should
begin to be infected in the first nidus and hot-bed of
their infection, the subordinate parts of our mihtary
force, and that I should not be surprised at seeing
a French convoyed by a British Navy to an attack

1797] TO DE. LAURENCE 415

upon this kingdom. I think you must remember the
thing, and the phrase. I trust in God that these
mutineers may not as yet have imbrued their hands
deeply in blood. If they have, we must expect the
worst that can happen. Alas 1 for the mischiefs that
are done by the newspapers,, and by the imbecility of
the Ministers, who neither refuse or modify any con-
cession, nor execute with promptitude the resolutions
they take through fear ; but are hesitating and
backward, even in their measures of retreat and flight :
in truth they know nothing of the manoeuvre either in
advance or retreat.

The other affair, hardly less perplexing, nor much
1 ess instantly urging, is that of Ireland.

Mr. Baldwin was here, and he spoke something,
though indistinctly and confusedly, of a strong desire

that he supposed the 1 to have for a reconciliation

with 2 . Whether this is mere loose talk, such as

I have uniformly heard from the day of the fatal
rupture, is more than I know. My answer was, that
while the cause of this calamitous rupture was yet in
its operation, I had done everything which a man like
me could do, to prevent it, and its effects, but that
now the question was not what should reconcile the

x to 2 , but what would reconcile Ireland to

England. This was very near the whole of our con-
versation. You know he does not see very far, nor
combine very much. I have had a hint from another
quarter, not indeed very direct, to know whether it
was my opinion that a concession to the Irish Catho-
lics, would quiet that country. To this I have given,
no answer, because at this moment I am utterly in-
capable of giving any, the least distinct. Three months
ago, perhaps even two months ago, I can say with
confidence, notwithstanding the hand from which it
would be offered, it would have prevented the dis-
contents from running into one mass ; even if the
compliance had been decently evaded, and future
hopes held out, I think these mischiefs would not
1 Duke of Portland. 2 Lord Mtzwilliam.

416 EDMUND BURKE [1797

have happened; but instead of this, every measure
has been used that could possibly tend to irritation.
The rejection of the Memorial was abrupt, final,
and without any temperament whatsoever. The
speeches in the House of Lords on Ireland were in the
same strain ; and in the House of Commons, the
Ministers put forward a wretched brawler, one Duigenan
of your profession, to attack Mr. Fox, though they
knew, that as a British Member of Parliament, he was
by them invulnerable ; but their great object was,
to get him to rail at the whole body of Catholics and
Dissenters in Ireland in the most foul and unmeasured
language. This brought on, as they might well have
expected from Mr. Grattan, one of the most animated
philippics which he ever yet delivered, against their
Government and Parliament.

It was a speech the best calculated that could be
conceived further to inflame the irritation which the
Castle-brawler's long harangue must necessarily have
produced. As to Mr. Fox, he had all the honour of
the day, because the invective against him was stupid,
and from a man of no authority or weight whatsoever ;
and the panegyric which was opposed to it, was full
of eloquence, and from a great name. The Attorney-
General in wishing the motion withdrawn, as I under-
stand, did by no means discountenance the principle
upon which it was made, nor disown the attack, which
was made, in a manner, upon the whole people of
Ireland. The Solicitor-General went the full length
of supporting it. Instead of endeavouring to widen
the narrow bottom upon which they stand, they make
it their policy to render it every day more narrow.
In the Parliament of Great Britain, Lord Grenville's
speech turned the loyalty of the Catholics against them-
selves. He argued from that zeal and loyajty they
manifested, their want of a sense of any grievance.
This speech, though probably well intended, was the
most indiscreet and mischievous of the whole. People
do not like to be put into practical dilemmas. If
the people are turbulent and riotous, nothing is to

1797] TO DR. LAURENCE 417

be done for them on account of their evil dispositions.
If they are obedient and loyal, nothing is to be done
for them, because their being quiet and contented is
a proof that they feel no grievance. I know that this
declaration has had its natural effect, and that in
several places the Catholics think themselves called
upon to deny the inference made by Ministers from
their good conduct. It seems to them a great insult
to convert their resolution to support the king's
Government into an approbation of the conduct of
those who make it the foundation of their credit and
authority that they are the enemies of their description.

I send you two extracts of letters, for Lord Mtz-
william's and your information, from intelligent and
well-informed people in Cork; and one of them from
a gentleman of much consideration and influence in
that place. These will let you see the effect of that
conduct which tends to unite all descriptions of persons
in the South, in the same spirit .of discontent, and in the
same bonds of sedition with those of the North. As
far as I can find, no part of the army in Ireland is yet
tainted with the general spirit ; but under a general
discontent it is impossible it should long continue sound ;
and even if it did, it is as impossible that such a country
can be ruled by a military government, even if there were
no enemy abroad fco take advantage of that miserable
state of things.

Now suffer me to throw down to you my thoughts
of what might be expected under the existing cir-
cumstances, from the mere grant of an Act of Parlia-
ment for a total emancipation. This measure I hold
to be a fundamental part in any plan for quieting that
country and reconciling it to this ; but you are well
aware, that this measure, like every other measure of
the kind, must depend on the manner in which it is
done, the persons who do it, and the sME and judge-
ment with yMch the whole is conducted. And first,
my clear opinion is, that as long as the present junto
continue to govern Ireland, such a measure into which
they must manifestly appear to be reluctantly driven,

237 p

4:18 EDMUND BUKKE [1797

never can produce the effects proposed by it, because
it is impossible to persuade the people that as long as
they govern, they will not have both the power and
inclination totally to frustrate the effect of this
new arrangement, as they have done that of all the
former.

Indeed it will appear astonishing that these men
should be kept in the sole monopoly of all power,
upon the sole merit of their resistance to the Catholic
claims, as inconsistent with the connexion of the two
kingdoms ; and yet at the same time to see those
claims admitted, and the pretended principle of the
connexion of the two countries abandoned, to preserve
to the same persons the same monopoly. By this it
would appear that the subject is either to be relieved
or not ; and the union of the two kingdoms abandoned,
or maintained, just as it may answer the purposes of
a faction of three or four individuals. But if that
junto was thrown out to-morrow along with their
measure, Government has proceeded in such a manner,
and committed so many in violent declarations on
this subject, that a complete emancipation would
no longer pass with its former facility, and a strong
ferment would be excited in the Church party, who
though but few in numbers, have in their hands most
of the ultimate and superior property of the kingdom.
These difficulties appear to me to be great. Certain
it is, that if they were removed, the leaders of the
opposition must be taken into their places, and become
the object of confidence to an English Government.
They are to a man pledged for some alteration in the
constitution of Parliament. If they made no such
alteration, they would lose the weight which they
have, and which is necessary to quiet the country.
If on the other hand they were to attempt a change
upon any of the plans of moderation which I hear
they have adopted, they would be as far from satis-
fying the demands of the extravagant people, whom
they mean to comply with, as they would be in pre-
serving the actual constitution which was fabricated

1797] . TO DB. LAUEENCE 419

in 1614. The second infallible consequence would be,
that if a revolution of this kind (for it would be a
revolution) were accomplished in Ireland, though the
grounds are a little different yet the principle is so
much the same, that it would* be impossible long to
resist an alteration of the same Mnd on this side of
the water ; and I never have doubted since I came to
the years of discretion, nor ever can doubt, that such
changes in this kingdom would be preliminary steps
to our utter ruin ; but if I considered them as such at
all times, what must they appear to me at a moment
like the present ? I see no way of settling these
kingdoms but by a great change in the superior
Government here. If the present Administration is
removed, it is manifest to me, that the Duke of
Bedford, and Lord Guilford, and the Duke of North-
umberland, and Lord Lansdowne, all, or most of them,
under the direction of Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Fox, will
be the sole option ; that if ,they took in the Duke
of Portland, they must take him in, at best, in the
state of utter insignificance in which unfortunately
he now stands. That they would gladly take in my
Lord ITitzwiUiam I have no question ; but, I am sure ?
he would have no support, and never would be suffered
to play any principal part, as long as he holds the
maxims, and is animated by the sentiments for which,
as a statesman, we value Mm. He certainly would
be best in Ireland, but I am very far from being sure
that his connexions there would look up to him with
the same simple and undivided affection which they
formerly did; and I am equally uncertain whether
he would leave behind him a ministry, which in the
mass would be better disposed to his support, than
those who had formerly betrayed him. Besides,
I cannot look without horror, upon his being conjoined
(and possibly found in a new reign in such a con-
junction) with a Ministry who have spared no pains to
prove their indifference at least, to the local honour
and interest of their country, or to the general liberty
of Europe. And indeed, who have wished to leave

420 EDMUND BURKE [1797

no doubt upon any mind, that it is their ambition to
act in this country as a subordinate department to
the Directory of the French Republic. I see no ray of
hope but in some sort of coalition between the heads
of the factions who now distract us, formed upon
a sense of the public danger. Bufc unfortunately their
animosity towards each other grows with the danger.
I confess that if no such coalition is made, and yet
that a change should take place, I see in the present
Ministry and its partisans an opposition far more
formidable than that which we have at present ;
and that after a while at least, their principles and
their modes of proceeding will not be found very
different from those of the present Opposition. I must
add, since I am opening my mind so much at large,
that when I look at the state of the civil list in Great
Britain, which I have reason to know and feel to be
full two years in debt to most of the departments,
I see no means of carrying on government upon
anything like a broad bottom, even officially ; to say
nothing of the necessary accommodation to those
expectants who will look to come forward with advan-
tage, or to retire without marks of disgrace ; and
both parties have emulously concurred in cutting off
all those extraneous means of accommodation, which
might supply the deficiency of the civil list resources.
In Ireland things are yet worse. They have seized
upon all the means of government, in order to accom-
modate one family, and its dependencies ; and they
have so squandered away every resource, under the
pretence of providing a home defence, that not only
is Ireland unable to form a system of comprehension,
but England will soon find itself unable to supply
that kingdom with the means of its ordinary existence.
To whatever point of the compass I turn my eyes,
I see nothing but difficulty and disaster. You will
naturally say, Why therefore do you reason in a state
of despair ? I do it, that Lord Fitewilliam and yourself
may see my melancholy reveries in this deplorable state
of things. The very consideration of the difficulties

1797] TO DR. LAURENCE 421

which strike me, may suggest to better heads than
mine, the means of overcoming them.

I do not know whether you have seen Hussey's
Pastoral Letter. It is written with eloquence and
energy, and with perhaps too little management
towards the unfortunate system which rules in Ireland
at present ; but it is the product of a manly mind,
strongly impressed with the trust committed to Ms
hands for supporting that religion, in the administra-
tion of which he has a very responsible place, and
which he considers as in the commencement of a new
persecution. It is therefore no wonder that he recom-
mends an adherence to it under all circumstances,
which many people animated by a contrary party
zeal may not approve : but men must act according
to their situation, and for one I am of opinion that it
were better to have a strong party zeal, provided it is
bottomed in our common principles, than anything
resembling infidelity, which last we know, by woful
experience, is as capable of religious persecution as
any sectarian spirit can possibly be.

I received your letter of yesterday. Nothing can
equal the precipitation of Ministers, in acceding to
the demands of the first mutiny. Nothing but want of
foresight can be alleged in favour of the formalizing
delay to effectuate the purposes of the grant which
had been extorted from their fears. But this will
ever be the case of those who act from no principle but
fear. The moment that is over, they fall into a supine
security. I agree with you, that no folly ever equalled
their attempt to beg off discussion upon this subject.
They ought to have known that it would have no
other effect than what it had, which was to provoke
and inflame the discussion they so childishly sought to
avoid ; but the whole is the result of that meanness
of spirit which has brought on all our misfortunes, and
rendered all our resources fruitless.

Delicacy alone has been the sole cause of my silence
to Mr. Windham, with relation to the affairs of Ire-
land ; otherwise he is entitled to, and he possesses

422 EDMUND BURKE [1797

my most unreserved confidence. I have therefore no
sort of difficulty in wishing him to know my thoughts
upon that subject. They will not be very encouraging
to him, because I am greatly afraid that the pre-
posterous method [of] beginning with force and ending
with concession, may defeat the effect of both. If
things had been m their natural course, I should
certainly have agreed with him. No concession on
the part of Government ought ever to be made without
such a demonstration of force, as might ensure it
against contempt. It will always be a matter of
great moment in whose hands the force to be applied
in domestic disturbances is placed. Never, no, never
shall I be persuaded that any force can appear other-
wise than as odious, and more odious than dreaded,
when it is known to be under the direction of Lord
Carhampton. I will not enter into all the particulars,
but among the many mischievous measures lately
adopted, his nomination to the office of commander-in-
chief led to by far the worst consequences.

When I am opening my mind to you, I must add,
that as long as a shallow, hot-headed puppy, proud
and presumptuous, and ill behaved, like Mr. Cooke, has
the chief or any credit at the Castle, or with Ministry
here, I can expect no sort of good from anything that
can be done in Parliament. When we talk of giving
way to Mr. Grattan and the Ponsonbys, I suppose it
is meant that they should be taken into the Irish
Ministry ; else to give them a triumph, and at the
same time to leave them in a state of discontent and
dissatisfaction, if we consider the interest of Govern-
ment as Government, is to act against the most
obvious dictates of common sense. Adieu. I may
truly say with Addison's Cato, I am weary of con-
jecture/ I will not add with him, that * this must end
them '. But they must soon be ended by the Master
of the drama, to whose will, pray with me, that we
may be aU, in all things, submissive. Don't forget
to send me the Report of the House of Commons, and
that of the House of Lords, if you can get it ; though

1797] TO DR. LAURENCE 423

I do not know why I am anxious about it, because as
a nation our fate seems decided, and we perish with
all the material means of strength that ever nation
has possessed, by a poverty and imbecility of mind
which has no example I am sure, and could have no
excuse even in the weakest. Adieu, adieu.
Yours ever,

E. B.

RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE TO ARTHUR YOUNG, ESQ.

Bath, May 23, 1797.
My DEAB SIR,

I am on the point of leaving Bath, having no further
hope of benefit from these waters ; and as soon as
I get home, (if I should live to get home,) if I should
find the papers transmitted me by your board, I shall
send them faithfully to you, though, to say the truth,
I do not think them of very great importance. My
constant opinion was, and is, that all matters relative
to labour ought to be left to the conventions of the
parties ; that the great danger is, in governments
intermeddling too much. What I should have taken
the liberty of addressing to you, had I had the strength
to go through it, would be to illustrate or enforce that
principle. I am extremely sorry that any one in the
House of Commons should be found so ignorant and
unadvised, as to wish to revive the senseless, bar-
barous, and, in fact, wicked regulations made against
the free-trade in matter of provision, which the good
sense of late Parliaments had removed. I am the
more concerned at the measure, as I was myself the
person who moved the repeal of the absurd code of
statutes against the most useful of all trades, under
the invidious names of forestalling and regrating.
But, however, I console myself on this point by con-
sidering that it is not the only breach by which bar-
barism is entering upon us. It is, indeed, but a poor
consolation, and one taken merely from the balance of

424 EDMUND BURKE [1797

misfortunes. You have titles enough of your own,
to pass your name to posterity, and I am pleased that
you have yet spirit enough to hope that there will be
such a thing as a civilized posterity to attend to things
of this kind. I have the honour to be, with very high
respect and esteem,

Dear sir, your most obedient

and very humble servant,
EDM. BUBKE.

INDEX

[An inclusive number has sometimes been given, for the
sake of brevity, where the subject occurs frequently in
those pages, but not necessarily on every page.]

Albemarle, Lord (1724-72),

44, 71, 155.
America, 20, 57, 179, 185-

6, 190, 196-206, 360,
Aubrey, Sir J., 65, 84, 185.
Austria, Emperor of, 299,

301, 310-11, 317-21, 370.

Bagot, Sir W., 110-11.
Barnave, 306, 316.
Barrington, Lord (1717-

93), 110-11, 115.
Barry, To James, 192.
Bath, 359, 391. 423.
Bath, Marquis of (1734-96),

356.
Bathurst, Earl (1714-94),

165.
6 Bedfords, the ', 49, 50, 59,

73, 153-4.
Bedford (fourth Duke of)

(1710-77), 37, 39, 40, 50,

155.

(fifth Duke of), 338, 419.
Bell Club, Bristol, 213, 221.
Bentinck, Mr., 174.
Bill of Rights, 80-8.
Bintinnaye, Chev. de, 294,

318-24. .

Blackstone, Sir W., 59.
Bonaparte, 397-9.
Bourbon princes, 312, 321,

369.

Bourke, J., 211.

Thibet, 77.
Bradshaw, 43.
Brissot, 372.

Bristol, 17, 205-21, 234,

264.
Brunswick, Duke of, 353,

361.
Buckinghamshire petition,

57, 62.

Lord (1723-93), 179.
Bullock, Joseph, 81, 181,

189.

Burgh, W., 194.

Burgoyne, General, 229.

BURKE, EBMTOSTD, early
letters and verses, 1-21 :
breach with Gerard
Hamilton, 22-35 ; letters
to Lord Rockingham,
38-209; his farming, 51,
89 ; letters to Bishop
(afterwards Archbishop)
Markham, 92-135; on
American affairs, 179,
185-206, 360,- on Irish
affairs, 203-7, 225-7, 344-
6, 359-60, 377-421; on
Roman Catholic disabili-
ties, 225-34, 345-7, 359-
60, 377-84, 394r-421 ; on
Indian affairs (Warren
Hastings), 240-54, 343,

426

INDEX

353-8, 410-12; on the
Regency, 255-66, 332-
7 ; on French, affairs,
266-339, 347-53, 359-76,
414-15 ; on Jacobinism,
French and English,
313-14, 350-2, 363, 374-
6, 387-8, 396-407 ; fail-
ing health, 383, 390-6,
410-13, 423; writings,
109; On the Sublime and
Beautiful, 21 ; Vindica-
tion of Natural Society,
21 n. ; Thoughts on the Pre-
sent Discontents, 60, 69,
80 ; Two Letters to Gentle-
men in the City of Bristol
(1778), 221; Letter to
a Member of the National
Assembly (1791), 295;
An Appeal from the New
to the Old Whigs (1791),
310, 327 ; Reflections on the
Revolution in France, 310.

Jane Mary (wife), 21, 38,
40, 48, 79, 81, 86, 90, 218,
224, 229, 304, 324, 345,
372, 383, 390, 414.

Richard (brother), 11,
21, 54, 70, 79, 125-8, 134,
149 n., 176, 224, 244r-5,
264, 342, 359, 372.

Richard (son), 173, 224,
244-5; letters to, 176,
304, 317-24, 342-7, 359,
371, 383.

William (relative), 15 n.,
18, 38, 49, 54, 70, 75,
79, 85, 99, 110, 121-8,
134, 140, 181 ; letters to,
244, 353.

Bute, Lord (1713-92), 39-
42, 57, 65, 77.

Calonne, 294, 305, 317.
Camden, Lord (1713-93),

49j 72-4, 89, 153-4.
Campbell, Lord F. (1729-

1816), 46.
Carhampton, Earl of: see

Luttrell.
Cavendish, Lord F. (1729-

1803), 72, 79, 107, 147,

208.
Lord John (1732-96), 43,

72, 79, 85, 107, 111, 166,

179, 190, 197-9, 204,

20&-9, 326
Cazales, 324.
Champion (R.), letters to,

210, 217.

Charles Edward, 10.
Chatham, William Pitt,

Earl (from 1766) of,

37,41, 54-8, 61, 66-76,

81, 85-7, 113, 170, 187-8,

191, 204, 209, 223.
Chesterfield, Lord, 46, 109.
Churchill, Mr., 184 n.
Cic<, de, 294, 297.
Clergy, French, 322, 361.
Clerke, Sir P., 218.
Clinton, Lord T., 184, 187.
Clive, Lord, 77, 167.
Codrington, Sir W., 184.
Colebrooke, Sir G., 54, 77,

137, 145, 159, 162.
Condorcet, 301, 314, 352.
Conway, Henry Seymour,

41-6, 154.

ComewaU, C. W., 175.
Cornwallis, Lord (173&-

1805), 358.
Cruger, Mr., 234-5.
Cumberland, Duke of, 107,

353.
Curry, Dr. J., 225.

INDEX

427

D., J., 205.

Dalrymple, Sir D.. 313.

Dalton, Count, 362.

Dartmouth, Lord (1731-
1801), 186, 198.

Dauphin, the, 312-13.

Dissenters, 195, 346, 352,
416.

Dorset, third Duke of, 311.

Dowdeswell, William, 45,
59, 61, 79, 83, 86, 107,
146-8, 158-60, 166-7,
173-5, 179, 183-4, 191;
letters to, 136-46.

Duigenan, Patrick, 416.

Dundas,Henry(afterwards,
1802, Viscount Melville),
246, 310-17, 355, 411;
letter to, 252.

Dupont, Monsieur, 266.

East India Company : see

Indian Affairs.
Egmont, Lord (1711-70),39.
Ellenborough, Lord, 343.
Elliott, Hugh, 306.
Erskine, Thomas, Baron,

336, 413-14.
Ewart, Mr., 306.

Fitzherbert, Mrs., 266.

(? Sir William), 50, 86,
91.

Fitzwilliam, Earl (1748-
1833), 179, 337, 341, 357,
371, 383-90, 403, 415-20.

Mood, Henry, 34.

Fox, Charles James, 59, 86,
149, 245-6, 250, 259-63,
325-7, 333-7, 343, 354-8,
371-5, 414-19 ; letter to,
255.

Franchise, Extension of the.
237.

Francis, Sir Philip, 246, 279.
Franklin, Benjamin, 179-80.
Frederick the Great, see

Prussia, King of.
French affairs, 266-339,

347-53, 359-76, 414-15.

clergy, 322, 361.

refugees, 361.

George III, 37, 107, 197-9,
255-7, 264, 313, 336, 347.

George IV : see Prince of
Wales.

Germain, Lord G. (Vis-
count Sackville, 1716-
85), 147-8, 165-7, 169-70.

Gordon Riots, 229-34.

Gower (Leveson-), Lord
(1758-1833), 50, 349.

Grafton, Duke of (1735-
1811), 40, 42, 49-50, 59,
113, 153-4, 185.

Grattan, Henry, 344-5, 416,
422.

Gregories, 47 n.

Gregory, Mr., 159, 162.

Grenvilles, the (see below;
also Lord Temple), 37, 45,
55, 58, 66, 73, 85, 167, 181.

Grenville, Hon. G. (1712-
70), 42, 49, 53, 57, 63,66-
7, 70, 72, 75. 78, 86, 110,
170.

Henry, 66.

William Wyndham,
Baron (1759-1834), 317-
20, 416 ; letter to, 347.

Grey, Charles, second Earl

(1764-1845), 343.
Guilford, Lord (1757-1802),

358, 419.

Halifax, Lord (1716-71),
22, 24, 36.

428

INDEX

Hamilton, William Gerard,

22-36.

Hampden, Mr., 62, 173.
Harford, Joseph, 234.
Hastings, Warren, 241.

246-50, 254, 342-3, 410-"-

11.
Hay, Dr. (? Sir George Hay,

1715-78), 49-50.
Hertford, Lord (1719-94),

41, 58.
Hillsborough, Lord (1718-

93), 115.

Holland, Lord (1705-74), 45.
Hussey, Rev. Dr. Thomas

(Bishop of Waterford),

377, 395, 421.
Hutchinson, J. Hely, 28.

Impey, Elijah, 246.
Inchiquin, Lord (7-1808),

65-6, 36L
Indian afairs, 78, 136,

144-5, 157-71, 178, 240-

54, 342-3, 358, 376, 410-

11.
Irish affairs, 203, 207-8,

225-7, 323, 344-6, 359-

60, 377-421.

Jacobinism, Trench and
English, 313, 350-2, 363,
374-6, 387, 396-9, 402-3,
407.

Jenkinson, C. (afterwards
Lord Liverpool) (1727-
1808), 192.

Junius, Letters of, 91-4, 120.

Keogh, Thomas, 387-8, 391.
Keppel, Hon. Augustus, 39,

44-5, 68, 71, 138.
King, Eev. T., 173, 176,

244, 371.

Knowles, Admiral Sir C.,
148.

La Fayette, 311, 316.

Lameth, 316.

Langnshe, Sir Hercules, 38,

344.
Lansdowne, Lord : see Shel-

burne.
Laurence, French, 383-91,

410-23.

Lee, Arthur, 198.
London election (1769-70),

56-7, 85-6.

Loughborough, Lord (after-
wards Earl of Bosslyn)

(1733-1805), 231, 355-8.
Louis XVI, 307-8, 311,

348-9. 369.
Lowndes, Charles, 43, 85,

185.
Luttrell, Henry Lawes (Earl

of Carhampton, 1787),

52, 57, 384, 422.
Lyttelton, Lord (1709-73),

153. t

Macaulay, Mrs., 80.

Mackintosh, Sir James, 389.

Mahon, Lord (afterwards
Earl Stanhope) (1753-
1816), 184-8.

Malmesbury, Lord (1746-
1820), 388-9.

Manchester, fourth Puke
of, 85-7.

Mansfield, first Earl of
(1705-93), 87, 93, 98-
100, 113, 138, 148.

Marie Antoinette, 282, 311,
314, 369.

Markham, Bishop (after-
wards Archbishop), 92,
95-136, 173.

INDEX

429

Mason, Mr., 71 ? 194.
Mason, J. Monck, 31.
Mercer, Capt., 284.
Merci Argenteau, Comte de,

314, 320, 361.
Meredith, Sir W., 54, 59.
Middlesex election (1768-9),

52-3, 56, 64, 77, 82-3.
Montagu, ? Frederick (1733-

1800), 327.
Mountmorres, Lord (1746?-

1797), 187.

Nagle, 317, 361.

Naval affairs, 414^-15, 421.

Newcastle, first Duke of

(1693-1768), 46, 72, 107,

154, 264.

second Duke (1720-94),
187.

Noble, John, 219, 239.

Non-attendance (Parlia-
mentary tactics), 142,
179, 202.

North, Lord (1732-92), 113,
137-8, 148, 160, 186, 218,
261, 333.

Northumberland, first Duke
of (1715-86), 50, 184, 187.

second Duke (1742-
1817), 419.

O'Brien : see Inchiquin.
Oxford University, 290,
358.

Paine, Tom, 347.
Parliamentary reform, 237.
Pelham, Hon. T. (1728-

1805), 258.
Penn, 205.
Petion, 352.
Pitt, William (1759-1806),

253-4, 259, 262-3, 305-6

313, 318, 356-8, 390, 411.
Poland, 148, 165, 186, 310.
Ponsonby, George (1755-

1817), lord chancellor of

Ireland, 422.
Ponsonby, W. B. , first Baron

(1744-1806), 208, 422.
Portland, third Duke of

(1738-1809), 48, 74, 107,

172, 185-7, 205, 223, 337,

341, 354-9, 371-2, 408,

415, 419.

Pownall, Thomas, 186,
Price, Richard, 211, 283,

332-4,

Priestley, Joseph, 352,
Prince of Wales (afterwards

George IV), 257-60, 265-

6, 334r-7.

Prussia, King of (Frederick
II), 163-5, 288.
(Frederick William II),

305-8, 310, 31&-19.
Prussian Gentleman, letter

to a, 162.

Raynal, Abbe, 301.

Regency, the, 37, 255-66,
332-7.

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 324,
342-3.

Rice, George, 111.

Richmond, third Duke of
(1735-1806), 44, 54, 56,
107, 138, 142, 146, 158,
16^-7, 171-2, 178-80,
191, 237 ; letters to, 149,
180, 206.

Rigby, Richard, 59, 110-11.

Rivarol, Chev. de, 298.

Rockingham, second Mar-
quis of (1730-82), 104-7,

430

INDEX

116, 121, 136-46, 151,
154-6,213,230,238,326;
letters to, 38-89, 146,
157-92, 196, 199, 209.

Roman Catholics, 226, 232-
4, 344-7, 359-60, 377-88,
394-400, 404, 409, 416-
17.

Rumbold, Sir T., 240, 246.

Russia, 148, 164, 201, 288,
305-7.

St. George's Fields, 65, 115.
Saunders, Sir C., 68, 71,

147-8.
Savile, Sir G-. (1726-84),

69, 107, 140, 146-7, 172,

183, 205, 230, 237.
Sawbridge, John, 80, 87.
Secession from the Whigs

considered, 139, 143.
Shackleton, Richard, letters

to, 1-21, 46, 79, 22r,

227-30.
Shelburne, second Earl of

(first Marquis of Lans-

downe, 1784)( 1737-1805),

49, 55, 77, 175, 213, 245,

283, 419.
Sheridan, R. B., 263, 333-4,

337, 371, 419.
Stamp Act, 210.
Sullivan, 77-8, 246.

Surrey address (1769), 53,

57.
Sweden, King of (Gusta-

vus HI), 308.

Temple, Earl (1711-79), 57,
63-6, 72, 75-8, 84, 111,
153, 180-1, 185.

Thesiger,Mr., 157, 196, 199.

Thurlow, first Baron (1731-
1806), 355.

Tolendal, Laliy, 292.
Toleration, religious, 194-6.
Townshend, Charles (1725-
67), 36, 41.

Charles (1728-1810), 58,
91, 94.

Lord (George, 4th Vis-
count and 1st Marquis)
(1740-1807), 46.

Thomas (1733-1800),
67-8, 147, 170.

Thomas (' old Tommy ',
1701-80), 147, 170.

Trade, 36, 201, 423.
Trevelyan, Mr., 239.
Trevor, Hon. J., 291.
Turkey, 148, 164, 201.

Verney, Lord (? 1712-91),
46-7, 57, 66, 74-5, 78, 81,
84, 181-9.

Weddell, W., 325.
Wedderburn, A. (1733-

1805), 43, 179.
Wendover, 81, 84, 188.
Weymouth, Lord (1734-96),

34, 115, 356.

Whately, Thomas, 62, 64.
Wild, John, 389.
Wilkes, John, 52, 78-80,

138, 152, 184, 187, 212.
Wmdham, W. (1750-1810),

257, 290, 387, 421.
Woodford, Emperor, 372,

389.
Wurtemburg, Duke of, 324.

Yorke, Hon. C., 40, 112,

135.
Yorkshire, 52, 62, 74, 82-3,

87-9.
Young, Arthur, 89, 423.

PRINTED IN ENGLAND

AT THE OXFORD UN1VEESITY PRESS

BY FREDERICK HALL

A LIST OF THE

WORLD'S
CLASSICS

Oxford University Press

THE WORLD'S CLASSICS

A SERIES in constant progress, containing nearly
jf\five hundred volumes, and offering in a size
adapted for the pocket, and at a low price, the most
famous works in the English language, with more
than a few translations. Many of the volumes con-
tain introductions by the best modern writers,

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fied as below:

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Autobiography Literary Criticism

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Drama Politics, Political Theory,
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grouped separately) Short Stories

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WORLD'S CLASSICS

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TWO VOLUMES IN ONE

BORROW. Lavengro and Romany Rye.
MAUDE (AYLMER). Life of Tolstoy.

TOLSTOY. Anna Karenina. Translated by Louise

and Aylmer Maude.
TROLLOPE. Can You Forgive Her?

The Duke's Children.

Last Chronicle of Barset.

Orley Farm.

Phineas Finn.

Phineas Redux.

The Prime Minister.

Ralph the Heir.

The Small House at Alllngton.

THREE VOLUMES IN ONE

DANTE. The Divine Comedy. Italian text and

translation by M. B. Anderson.
ENGLISH SHORT STORIES (Nineteenth and Twentieth

Centuries).

RABELAIS (FRANCOIS). Gargantua and PantagrueL
TOLSTOY. War and Peace. Revised translation by

Louise and Aylmer Maude.

4 * THE WORLD'S CLASSICS '

COMPLETE LIST OF THE SERIES

Tf Anthologies

A BOOK OF AMERICAN VERSE. Selected and edited by A. C. Ward
(4^8).

A BOOK OF NARRATIVE VERSE. Compiled by V. H, Collins. Intro-
duction by Edmund Blunden (350).

A BOOK OF SCOTTISH VERSE. Compiled by R. L. Mackie (417).

AMERICAN CRITICISM. Representative Literary Essays. Chosen
by Norman Foerster (354).

ENGLISH ESSAYS, chosen and arranged by W, Peacock (32);

ENGLISH ESSAYS, 1600-1900, chosen by S. V. Makower and B. H,
Blackzvell (172).

ENGLISH ESSAYS, MODERN. Two Series. Selected by fl. S.
Mtlford(28c, 406).

ENGLISH PROSE from MANDEVILLE to RUSKIN, chosen and arranged
by W. Peacock (45).

ENGLISH PROSE, chosen and arranged by W Peacock in 5 volumes :

I, WYCLIFFE to CLARENDON J II, MILTON to GRAY; III, WAL-
POLE tO LAMB J IV, LANDOR tO HOLMES ; V, MRS. GASKELL to
HENRY JAMES (219-23).

ENGLISH PROSE, Narrative, Descriptive, Dramatic (MALORY to
STEVENSON), compiled by H. A. Treble (204).

ENGLISH SHORT STORIES (Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries),
selected by H. S. Milford. Three Series (193, 228, 315).

ENGLISH SONGS AND BALLADS, compiled by T. W. H. Crosland.
New edition, with the text revised, and additional poems (13).

ENGLISH VERSE. Edited by W. Peacock. I, Early Lyrics to SHAKE-
SPEARE (308); II, CAMPION to the Ballads (309); III, DRYDEN

tO WORDSWORTH (310); IV, SCOTT to ELIZABETH BROWNING
(.311); V, LONGFELLOW tO RUPERT BROOKE (312).

A MISCELLANY OF TRACTS AND PAMPHLETS. Sixteenth to Nine

teenth Centuries. Edited by A. C. Ward (304).
PALGRAVE'S GOLDENTREASURY, with 188 pages of additional poems

from LANDOR tO BLUNDEN (l33)-

READING AT RANDOM. A ' World's Classics * Anthology. Edited
by Ben Ray Redman (410).

^[ Autobiography

AKSAKOFF(SERGHEI). Trans, by J. D. Duff. A Russian Gentleman
(241). Years of Childhood (242). A Russian Schoolboy (261)*

CELLINI (BENVENUTO) (300).

DE QUINCEY (THOMAS), Confessions of an Opium-Eater (23);

FRANKLIN (BENJAMIN). The Autobiography, edited from his
original manuscript by John Sigeloto (250).

GIBBON (EDWARD). Autobiography. Introduction by J.
(139).

AUTOBIOGRAPHY. BIOGRAPHY. THE 'CLASSICS* 5

HAYDON (BENJAMIN ROBERT). The Autobiography. Introduc-

tion and Epilogue by Edmund Blunden (314).
HUNT (LEIGH). Autobiography. Intro. Edmund Blunden (329).
MILL (JOHN STUART). Autobiography. Introduction by Harold jf.

Laiki (262).
TOLSTOY. A Confession, and What I believe. Translated by

Aylmer Maude (239).
TROLLOPE (ANTHONY). Autobiography. Introduction by

Michael Sadleir (23 9)^

^f Biography

CARLYLE. The Life of John Sterling. Introduction by W. Hate

White (' Mark Ruthetford ') (144).
CRABBE, LIFB OP. By his Son. Introduction by B. M. Forster

(404).
DOBSON (AUSTIN). Four Frenchwomen: Charlotte Corday,

Madame Roland. Princess de Lamballe, Madame de Genks

EMERSON. Representative Men. (With English Traits) (30).
FRANCIS OF ASSISI (ST.). The Little Flowers ; and The Life of

Brother Giles. Translated into English verse by James Rhoades

(265).

GASKELL (MRS.). The Life of Charlotte Bronte (214).-
HOUGHTON (LORD). Life of Keats (364).
JOHNSON (SAMUEL). Lives of the Poets. 2 vols. (83, 84).
MAUDE (AYLMER). Life of Tolstoy. 2 vols. (383, 384).
SCOTT (Sm WALTER). Lives of the Novelists. Introduction by

Austin Dobson (94) .
STANHOPE (LORD). Conversations with Wellington. Introduc-

tion by Philip Guedalla (470).
TREVELYAN (Sm G. O.). Life of Macaulay. With a new Intro-

duction by G. M. Trevelyan. 2 vols. (401, 402).
WALTON (!ZAAK). Lives of Donne, Wotton, Hooker, Herbert,

Sanderson. Introduction by George Samtsbury (303).

\ The * Classics \ Greek and Roman

AESCHYLUS. The Seven Plays. Translated into English Verse by

Lewis Campbell (117).
ARISTOPHANES. The Acharnians, Knights, Birds, and Frogs.

Translated byjf. Hookham Frere. Intro. W. W. Merry (134).
HOMER. Translated by Pope. Iliad (18). Odyssey (36).
SOPHOCLES. The Seven Plays. Translated into English Verse by

Lewis Campbell ( 1 1 6).
VIRGIL, The Aeneid, Georgics, and Eclogues. Translated by

John Dry den (37).
- The Aeneid, Georgics, and Eclogues. Translated by

James Rhoades (227),

6 * THE WORLD'S CLASSICS *

If Drama

BROWNING (ROBERT). Poems and Plays, 1833-42 (58).

CONGREVE (WILLIAM). Complete Works, 2 vols. Introduction by
Bonamy Dobrte. I, The Comedies. II, The Mourning Bride,
with Letters, Poems, and Miscellanies (276, 277).

EIGHTEENTH CENTURY COMEDY. FARQUHAR'S Beaux' Stratagem,
STEELE'S Conscious Lovers, GAY'S Beggar's Opera, FIELDING'S
Tom Thumb, GOLDSMITH'S She Stoops to Conquer (292).

EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, LESSER COMEDIES OF THE. Edited by
Allardyce NicoU The five comedies are ARTHUR MURPHY'S The
Way to keep him, GEORGE COLMAN'S The Jealous Wife, MRS.
INCHBALD'S Everyone has his Fault, THOMAS MORTON'S Speed
the Plough, and FREDERICK REYNOLDS'S The Dramatist (321).

ELIZABETHAN TRAGEDIES. Edited by A. K. Mcllwraith. Con-
tains SACKVILLE and NORTON'S Gorboduc; MARLOWE'S Dr.
Faustus ; Arden of Feversham; KYD'S Spanish Tragedy; HEY-
WOOD'S Woman Killed with Kindness (452).

FIVE ELIZABETHAN COMEDIES. Edited by A.K.McIlwraith. Con-
tains GREENE'S Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, PEELE'S The Old
Wives' Tale, LYLY'S Campaspe, DEKKER'S Shoemaker's Holiday,
and the anonymous Merry Devil of Edmonton (422).

FIVE PRE-SHAKESPEAREAN COMEDIES. Edited by F. S. Boas. Con-
tains MED WALL'S Fulgens and Lucrece, HEYWOOD'S The Four PP.,
UDALL'S Ralph Roister Doister,the anonymous Gammer Gurton's
Needle, and GASCOIGNE'S Supposes (418).

GOETHE. Faust, Parts I and II (380).

IBSEN, HENRIK. Peer Gynt. Trans, with an Introduction by
R. Elks Roberts (446).

MARLOWE. Plays. (478).

MARLOWE'S Dr. Faustus (with GOETHE'S Faust, Part I) (135).

RESTORATION TRAGEDIES. DRYDEN'S All for Love, OTWAY'S Venice
Preserved, SOUTHERNE'S Oroonoko, ROWE'S Fair Penitent, and
ADDISON'S Cato. Introduction by Bonamy Dobrie (313).

SHAKESPEARE. Plays and Poems. 9 vols. Comedies. 3 vols*
(100, 101, 102). Histories and Poems, 3 vols. (103, 104, 105),
Tragedies. 3 vols. (106, 107, 108).

SHAKESPEARE, Six Plays by Contemporaries of. DEKKER, The
Shoemaker's Holiday ; WEBSTER, The White Devil ; BEAU-
MONT and FLETCHER, The Knight of the Burning Pestle, and
Philaster ; WEBSTER, The Duchess of Malfi ; MASSINGER, A
New Way to pay Old Debts. Edited by C. B. Wheeler (199).

SHERIDAN. Plays. Introduction by Josep h Knight (79).

TOLSTOY. The Plays. Tr. by Louise and Aylmer Maude (243).

^[ Essays and Belles Lettres

BACON. The Essays, Civil and Moral (24).
CAKLYLE. On Heroes and Hero- Worship (62). Past and Present.
Introduction by G. K. Chesterton (153). Sartor Resartus (19).

ESSAYS AND BELLES LETTRES 7

DOBSON (AUSTIN). At Prior Park, &c. (259). Eighteenth- Century

Vignettes. Three Series (245-7). Four Frenchwomen (248).

Old Kensington Palace, &c.(258). A Paladin of Philanthropy, &c.

(256). Rosalba's Journal, &c. (260). Side- Walk Studies (257).
EMERSON. English Traits, and Representative Men (30). Essays (6),
ENGLISH CRITICAL ESSAYS. 3 volumes : I, Sixteenth to Eighteenth

Centimes; II, Nineteenth Century; III, Twentieth Century

(240, 206, 405).
ENGLISH ESSAYS, chosen and arranged by W. Peacock (32).

(A BOOK OF), 1600-1900 (172).

MODERN. Two Series. Selected by H. S. Milford(2%o, 406).

ENGLISH PROSE. MANDEVILLE to RUSKIN. Chosen by W. Peacock

(45). Also a selection in 5 volumes by the same editor: I, WY-

CLIFFEtO CLARENDON (219); II, MILTON tO GRAY (220); III, WAL-
POLE to LAMB (22 I ) J IV, LANDORtO HOLMES(222) J V, MRS. GASKELL
tO HENRY JAMES (223).

ENGLISH PROSE. Narrative, Descriptive, and Dramatic (204).

FROUDEQ. A.). Short Studies on Great Subjects. Series I (269).

HAZLITT (WILLIAM). Characters of Shakespeare's Plays (205).
The English Comic Writers (124). Sketches and Essays.
Essays on Men and Manners (15). Table-Talk (5). The Spirit
of the Age (57). Wmterslow (25).

HOLMES (OLIVER WENDELL). The Autocrat of the Breakfast-
Table (61). The Poet at the Breakfast-Table (95). The Pro-
fessor at the Breakfast-Table (89).

HORNE (R. H.). A New Spirit of the Age (127).

HUNT (LEIGH). Essays and Sketches (i 15).

IRVING (WASHINGTON). The Sketch Book (173).

LAMB. Essays of Elia, and The Last Essays of Elia (2).

LANDOR. Imaginary Conversations. Selected (196).

LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. The Maxims. Trans, by F. G. Stevens
(482).

MILTON. Selected Prose (293).

MONTAIGNE'S ESSAYS. Flono's translation. 3 vols. (65* 70, 77).

REYNOLDS (Sm JOSHUA). The Discourses, &c. (149).

RUSKIN. *A Joy for Ever*, and The Two Paths. Illustrated
(147). Sesame and Likes, and Ethics of the Dust (145). Time
and Tide, and The Crown of Wild Olive ( 146). Unto this Last,
and Munera Pulvens (148).

RUTHERFORD (MARK). Pages from a Journal (358).

SERMONS, SELECTED ENGLISH, from LATIMER to R. w. DALE (464).

SMITH (ALEXANDER). Dreamthorp, &c. (200).

SMOLLETT. Travels through France and Italy (90).

STERNE (LAURENCE). A Sentimental Journey (333).

STEVENSON (R. L.) Virginibus Puerisque; Across the Plains (296).

TOLSTOY. Translated by A, Maude. Recollections and Essays
(459). *What is Art?* and Essays on Art (331).

TRACTS AND PAMPHLETS, from JOHN KNOX to H. o. WELLS (304).

8 THE WORLD'S CLASSICS '

WALTON and COTTON. The Compleat Angler (430).
WHITE (GILBERT). The Natural History of Selborne (22).
WHITMAN. Specimen Days in America (371).

^[ Fiction (For SHORT STORIES see separate heading)

AINSWORTH (W. HARRISON). The Tower of London (162).
AUSTEN QANE). Emrna (129). Pride and Prejudice (335). Mans-
field Park (345). Northanger Abbey (355). Persuasion (356),

Sense and Sensibility (389).
BLACKMORE (R. D.). Lorna Doone (171).
BORROW (GEORGE). Lavengro (66). The Romany Rye (73);
BRONTE (ANNE). Agnes Grey (141). Tenant of Wildfell Hall (67).
BRONTE (CHARLOTTE). Jane Eyre (i). Shirley (14). Villette (47).

The Professor, and the Poems of the Brontes (78).
BRONTE (EMILY). Wuthenng Heights (10).
BUNYAN. The Pilgrim's Pi ogress (12). Mr. Badman (338).
BUTLER (SAMUEL). The Way of all Flesh (438).
CERVANTES. Don Quixote. 2 volumes (130, 131).
COBBOLD (Rsv. RICHARD). Margaret Catchpole (119).
COLLINS (WILKIE), The Moonstone. Introduction by T. S

Ehot (316). The Woman in White (226).
COOPER (J. FENIMORE). The Last of the Mohicans (163).
DEFOE. Robinson Crusoe. Part I (17).
DICKENS. Barnaby Rudge (286). Christmas Books (3 07). Edwin

Drood (263). Great Expectations (128). Hard Times (264).

Old Curiosity Shop (270). Oliver Twist (8), Pickwick Papers.

2 volumes (120, 121). Tale of Two Cities (38).
DISRAELI (BENJAMIN). Comngsby (381). Sybil (291).
DOUGLAS (G.). The House with the Green Shutters. Intro, by

W. Somerset Maugham (466).
ELIOT (GEORGE). Adam Bede (63). Felix Holt (179). The Mill

on the Floss (31). Romola (178). Scenes of Clerical Life (155).

Silas Marner, &c. (80).

FIELDING. Jonathan Wild (382). Joseph Andrews (334).
GALT QOHN). The Entail (177).
GASKELL (MRS.). Cousin Phillis, and Other Tales, &c. (168).

Cranford, The Cage at Cranford, and The Moorland Cottage

(i loj. Lizzie Leigh, The Grey Woman, and Other Tales, Sec.

(175). Mary Barton (86). North and South (154). Right at

Last, and Other Tales, &c. (203). Round the Sofa (190).

Ruth (88). Sylvia's Lovers (156). Wives and Daughters (157).
GOLDSMITH. The Vicar of Wakefield (4).
HARRIS QOEL CHANDLER). Uncle Remus (361).
HAWTHORNE. House of the Seven Gables (273); The Scarlet

Letter (26). Tales (319).
HOLME (CONSTANCE). Beautiful End (431). Crump Folk going

Home (419). He-who-came? (440). The Lonely Plough (390).

The Old Road from Spam (400). The Splendid Fairing (416).

The Things which Belong (425). The Trumpet in the

Dust (409). The Wisdom of the Simple, &c. (453).

FICTION 9

KINGSLEY (HENRY). Geoffry Hamlyn (271). Ravenshoe (267).
Austin Elliot (407).

LA MOTTE FOUQUE. Undine, Sintrain, &c. (408).

LESAGE. Gil Bias. 2 vols. (151, 152).

MACKENZIE (COMPTON). Guy and Pauline. With new Introduc-
tion by the Author (461).

MARRYAT. Mr. Midshipman Easy (i 60). Jacob Faithful (439).

MELVILLE (HERMAN). Moby Dick (225). Typee(274). Omoo
(275). White Jacket (253).

MORIER (J. J.). Hajji Baba (238). Hajji Baba in England (285).

PEACOCK (T. L.). Headlong Hall ; and Nightmare Abbey (339).
Misfortunes of Elphin; and Crotchet Castle (244).

RABELAIS. Gargantua and Pantagruel. 3 volumes (411-13).

SCOTT. Ivanhoe (29).

SMOLLETT. Roderick Random (353). Humphry Clinker (290);

STERNE. Sentimental Journey (333). Tristram Shandy (40).

STEVENSON (R. L.)* Kidnapped ; and Catriona (297). The Master
of Ballantrae (441). Treasure Island (295).

STURGIS (HOWARD). Belchamber (429).

SWIFT. Gulliver's Travels (20),

SWINNERTON (FRANK). NoctUItie (460

TAYLOR (MEADOWS). Confessions of a Thug (207);

THACKERAY. Henry Esmond (28).

TOLSTOY. Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude* Anna
Karenina. 2 volumes (210, 211). Childhood, Boyhood, and
Youth (352). The Cossacks, &c. (208). Ivan Ilych, and Hadji
Murad (432). The Kreutzer Sonata, &c. (266). Resurrection,
trans, by L. Maude (209). Twenty-three Tales (72). War and
Peace. 3 volumes (233-5).

TROLLOPE. American Senator (391). Ayala's Angel (342). Bar-
chester Towers (268). The BeltonEstate(25i). Canyouforgive

(357)- Framley Parsonage (305). The Kellys and the O'Kellys
(341). Lady Anna (443). Last Chronicle of Barset. 2 vols.
(398, 399). Miss Mackenzie (278). Orley Farm. 2 vols. (423,
424). Phineas Finn. 2 vols. (447, 448). Phineas Redux.
2 vols. (450, 451). The Prime Minister. 2 vols. (454, 455)*
Rachel Ray (279). Ralph the Heir. 2 vols. (475, 476). Sir
Harry Hotspur (336). The Small House at Allington. a vols.
(472,473). Tales of all Countries (397). The Three Clerks
(140). The Vicar of Bullhampton (272). The Warden (217).
The Way we Live now. 2 vols. (484, 485).

WALPOLE (HUGH). Prelude to Adventure (465).

WATTS-DUNTON (THEODORE). Aylwin (52).

WHARTON (EDITH). The House of Mirth (437)-

io * THE WORLD'S CLASSICS '

^f History

BARROW (SiR JOHN). The Mutiny of the Bounty (195).
BUCKLE. The History of Civilization. 3 volumes (41, 48, 53).
CARLYLE. The French Revolution. Introduction by C. JR. L.

Fletcher. 2 volumes (125, 126).

FROUDE (J. A.). Short Studies on Great Subjects. Series I (269).
GIBBON. Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. With Maps.

7 volumes (35, 44, 51, 55, 64, 69, 74).
IRVING (WASHINGTON). Conquest of Granada (150).
MACAULAY. History of England. 5 volumes (366-70).
MOTLEY. Rise of the Dutch Republic. 3 volumes (96, 97, 98).
PRESCOTT (W. H.). The Conquest of Mexico, avols. (197,198).

^Letters

BURKE. Letters. Selected, with Introduction, by H.J. Laski (237).
CHESTERFIELD. Letters. Selected, with an Introduction, by

Phyllis M. Jones (347).

CONGREVE. Letters, in Volume II. See under Drama (277).
COWPER. Letters. Selected, with Intro., by E. V. Lucas (138).
DUFFERIN (LORD). Letters from High Latitudes. Illustrated (15 8).
GRAY (THOMAS). Letters. Selected by John Beresford (283).
JOHNSON (SAMUEL). Letters. Selected, with Introduction, by

R. W. Chapman (282),
SOUTHEY. S elected Letters (169).
WHITE (GILBERT). The Natural History of Selborne (22).

^Literary Criticism

AMERICAN CRITICISM. Representative Literary Essays. Chosen
by Norman Foerster (354).

COLERIDGE (S.T.) Lectures on Shakespeare (363).

ENGLISH CRITICAL ESSAYS. Selected and edited by Edmund D.
Jones. 2 volumes: I, Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries (240);
II, Nineteenth Century (206).

HAZLITT (WILLIAM). Characters of Shakespeare's Plays. Intro-
duction by Sir A. T. Quiller-Couch (205). Lectures on the
English Comic Writers. Introduction by JR. Bnmley Johnson
(124). Lectures on the English Poets (255). The Spirit of the
Age. (Essays on his contemporaries) (57).

HORNE (R. H.). A New Spirit of the Age (127).

JOHNSON (SAMUEL). Lives of the Poets. 2 volumes (83, 84).

MORE (PAUL ELMER), Selected Shelbume Essays (434).

SAINTE-BEUVE. Causeries du Lundi. (In English.) Two Series
(372-3). J

SHAKESPEARE CRITICISM. (HEMINGE and CONDELL to CARLYLE.)
Selected and introduced by D. Nichol Smith (212).

SHAKESPEARE CRITICISM (1919-1935). Selected and introduced
by Anne Bradby (436).

SCIENCE AND POETRY zr

If Philosophy and Science

(For POLITICAL THEORY and RELIGION see separate headings)
AOTELIUS (MARCUS). Thoughts. Translated by Johnjackson( 60).
BACON. The Advancement of Learning, and the New Atlantis.

Introduction by Professor Case (93). Essays (24).
CARLYLE. Sartor Resartus (19).
DARWIN. The Origin of Species. With a new preface by Major

Leonard Darwin (i i).
REYNOLDS (SIR JOSHUA). Discourses, &c. Introduction by ADo5-

son (149).

TOLSTOY. What then must we do ? Trans, by A. Maude (281).
WHITE (GILBERT). The Natural History of Selborne (22).

^Poetry

ARNOLD (MATTHEW). Poems, 1849-67 (85).

BLAKE (WILLIAM). Selected Poems (324).

BRONTE SISTERS, THE. The Professor, by CHARLOTTE BRONTE", and
Poems by CHARLOTTE, EMILY, and ANNE BRONTE (78).

BROWNING (ROBERT). Poems and Plays, 1833-42 (58). Poems,
1842-64 (137).

BURNS (ROBERT). Poems (34). Complete and in large type.

BYRON. Poems. A Selection (180).

CHAUCER, The Works of . 3 volumes: 1(42); II (56); III, con-
taining the whole of the Canterbury Tales (76).

COLERIDGE. Poems. Introduction by Sir A. T. Quitter-Couch (99).

CONGREVE (WILLIAM). Complete works in 2 volumes. Intro-
ductions by Bonamy Dobrie. I, The Comedies (276); II, The
Mourning 'Bride, Poems, Miscellanies and Letters (277).

DANTE. Italian text and English verse-translation by Melville B.

Anderson, on facing pages, with notes. 3 vols. (392-4).
Translation only, with notes, in one volume (395).

DOBSON (AUSTIN). Selected Poems (249).

ENGLISH SONGS AND BALLADS. Compiled by T. W* H. Crosland.
New edition, with revised text and additional poems, 1927 (13).

ENGLISH VERSE. Vols. I-V: Early Lyrics to SHAKESPEARE; CAM-
PION to the Ballads; DRYDEN to WORDSWORTH; SCOTT to E. B.
BROWNING ; LONGFELLOW to RUPERT BROOKE. Edited by William
Peacock (308-312).

FRANCIS OF Assist (ST.). The Little Flowers of St. Francis.
Translated into English Verse by James Rhoades (265).

GOETHE. Faust, Parts I and II. Translated by Bayard Taylor.
Intro, by Marshall Montgomery and notes by Douglas Yaa(38o).

GOLDEN TREASURY, THE. With additional Poems (133).

GOLDSMITH. Poems. Introduction by Austin Dobson (123)*

GRAY. Poems. Introduction by Leonard Whibley (474).

HERRICK (ROBERT). Poems (16).

13 ' THE WORLD'S CLASSICS '

HOMER. Translated by Pope. Iliad (i 8). Odyssey (36).
HOOD. Poems. Introduction by Walter J err old ( 8 7).
IBSEN. Peer Gynt. Translated by R. Ellis Roberts (446).
KEATS. Poems (7).
KEBLE. The Christian Year ( 1 8 1 ).
LONGFELLOW. Hiawatha, Miles Standish, &c. (174);
MACAULAY, Lays of Ancient Rome ; Ivry ; The Armada (27).
MARLOWE. Dr. Faustus (with GOETHE'S Faust, Part I, trans.
J. An$ter\ Introduction by Sir A. W. Ward (135). Plays

(478).

MILTON. The English Poems (182).
MORRIS (WILLIAM). The Defence of Guenevere, Life and Death

of Jason, and other Poems (183).
NARRATIVE VERSE, A BOOK OF. Compiled by V, H. Collins*

With an Introduction by Edmund Blunden (350),
PALGRAVE. The Golden Treasury. With additional Poems (i 33).
ROSSETTI (CHRISTINA). Goblin Market, &c. (184).
SCOTT (SiR WALTER). Selected Poems (186).
SCOTTISH VERSE, A BOOK OF, Compiled by R. L. Mackie (417).
SHAKESPEARE. Plays and Poems. Preface by A. C, Swinburne.

Introductions by Edward Dowden. 9 volumes. Comedies. 3

volumes (100, 101, 102). Histories and Poems, 3 volumes

(103, 104, 105). Tragedies. 3 volumes (106, 107, 108).
SHELLEY. Poems. A Selection (187).
SWINBURNE (A. C.). Selected Poems (481).
TENNYSON. Selected Poems. Intro, by Sir Herbert Warren (3).
VIRGIL. The Aeneid, Georgics, and Eclogues. Translated by

Dry den (37). Translated by James Rhoades (227).
WELLS (CHARLES). Joseph and his Brethren. A Dramatic Poem.

Intro, by A. C. Swinburne, and Note by T. Watts-Dunton( 143).
WHITMAN. A Selection. Introduction by E.de Selincourt (218).
WHITTIER. Poems: A Selection (i 88).
WORDSWORTH. Poems: A Selection (189).

^Politics, Political Economy, Political Theory

BAGEHOT (WALTER). The English Constitution. With an Intro-
duction by the Earl of Balfour (330).

BUCKLE. The History of Civilization. 3 volumes (41, 48, 53).

BURKE (EDMUND). Letters. Selected, with an Introduction, by
Harold jf. Laski (237). Works. 6 volumes. I: A Vindica-
tion of Natural Society; The Sublime and Beautiful &c. (71).
II: The Present Discontents; and Speeches and Letters on
America (81). Ill : Speeches on India, &c. (i 1 1). IV: Writings
on France, 1790-1 (112). V: Writings on Ireland, &c,( 113). VI:
A Letter to a Noble Lord ; and Letters on a Regicide Peace (114).

ENGLISH SPEECHES, from BURKE to GLADSTONE. Selected and
edited by E. R. Jones (191).

MACAULAY. Speeches. Selected by G. M. Young (433).

MACHIAVELLI. The Prince (43).

POLITICS, RELIGION, ETC. 13

MAINE (SiR HENRY). Ancient Law (362).
MILL (JOHN STUART). On Liberty, Representative Government,

and the Subjection of Women (170).

MILTON (JOHN). Selected Prose. Intro. Malcolm W. Wallace (-393 )j
RUSKIN. 'A Joy for Ever ', and The Two Paths. Illustrated (147).

Time and Tide, and The Crown of Wild Olive (146). Unto

this Last, and Munera Pulveris (148).

SMITH (ADAM). The Wealth of Nations, 2 volumes (54, 59).
SPEECHES AND DOCUMENTS ON BRITISH COLONIAL POLICY (1763-

1917). Ed. A. B. Keith. 2 volumes (215, 216).
SPEECHES AND DOCUMENTS ON THE BRITISH DOMINIONS, 1918-31.

Selected, with Introduction, by A. B. Keith (403).
SPEECHES AND DOCUMENTS ON INDIAN POLICY (1756-1921)*

Edited, with Introduction, by A. B. Keith (231, 232).
SPEECHES AND DOCUMENTS ON INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS (1918-

37). Edited by A. B. Keith. 2 vols. (457, 458).
SPEECHES ON BRITISH FOREIGN POLICY (1738-1914) (201),
SPEECHES ON THE CONSTITUTION. Selected by C. 3. Emden.

2 vols. (479, 480).

TOLSTOY. What then must we do ? (281);
TRACTS AND PAMPHLETS, A Miscellany of. Sixteenth to Nine-
teenth Centuries. Edited by A. C. Ward (304).

\ Religion

THE OLD TESTAMENT. Revised Version. 4 vols. (385-8).'

APOCRYPHA, THE, in the Revised Version (294).

THE FOUR GOSPELS, AND THE ACTS OP THE APOSTLES. Authorized

Version (344).
THE NEW TESTAMENT. Authorized Version (471). Revised

Version (346).

A KEMPIS (THOMAS). Of the Imitation of Christ (49);
AURELIUS (MARCUS). Translated by John Jackson (6o)j
SOME SAYINGS OF THE BUDDHA. Edited by F. L. Woodward (483).
BUNYAN. The Pilgrim's Progress (12), Mr. Badman (33$).
CONFUCIUS. The Analects. Trans, by W.E.SoothilL Introduction

by Lady Hoste (442).

KORAN, THE. Translated by E. H. Palmer (328).
SERMONS, Selected English. Intro. Rt . Rev. Hensley Henson (464).
TOLSTOY. Translated by Aylmer Maude* A Confession, and

What I believe (229). On Life, and Essays on Religion (426).

The Kingdom of God, and Peace Essays (445).

If Short Stories

AFRICA, STORIES OF. Chosen by E. C. Parnwell (359);
AUSTRIAN SHORT STORIES. Translated by Marie Busch (337)*
CRIME AND DETECTION. Two Series (301, 351). Stones by H. c.

BAILEY, ERNEST BRAMAH, G. K. CHESTERTON, SIR A. CONAN DOYLB,
R. AUSTIN FREEMAN, W. W. JACOBS, EDEN PHILPOTTS, * SAPPER*,

DOROTHY SAYERS, and others.

14 ' THE WORLD'S CLASSICS'

CZECH TALES, SELECTED. Translated by Mans Busch and Otto

DICKENS. Christmas Books (307).

ENGLISH SHORT STORIES. Four Series. Selected by H. S.

Milford (193, 228, 315, 477).
FRENCH SHORT STORIES. Eighteenth to Twentieth Centuries.

Selected and translated by K. Rebillon Lambley (396).
GASKELL (MRS.). .Introductions by Clement Shorter. Cousin

Phillis, and Other Tales (168). Lizzie Leigh, The Grey

Woman, and Other Tales, &c. (175). Right at Last, and Other

Tales, &c. (203). Round the Sofa (190).
GERMAN SHORT STORIES. Translated by E, N. Bennett (415).
GERMAN SHORT STORIES (MODERN). Translated by H. Steinhauer

and Helen Jessiman (456).
GHOSTS AND MARVELS and MORE GHOSTS AND MARVELS. Two

Selections of Uncanny Tales made by V. H. Colhns. Intro-

duction by Montague R. James in Series I (284, 323).
HARTE (BRET). Short Stories (318).
HAWTHORNE (NATHANIEL). Tales (3 19).
HOLME (CONSTANCE). The Wisdom of the Simple, &c. (453).
IRVING (WASHINGTON). Tales (320).
PERSIAN (FROM THE). The Three Dervishes, and Other Stones.

Translated from MSS. in the Bodleian by Reuben Levy (254).
POE (EDGAR ALLAN). Tales of Mystery and Imagination (21).
POLISH TALES BY MODERN AUTHORS. Translated by Else C. M.

Benecke and Marie Busch (230).

RUSSIAN SHORT STORIES. Translated by A. E. Chamot (287).
SCOTT, Short Stories. With an Introduction by Lord David

Cecil (414).
SPANISH SHORT STORIES. Sixteenth Century. In contemporary

translations, revised, with Introduction, by 3*. B. Trend (326).
TOLSTOY. Nine Stories (1855-63) (420). Twenty-three Tales,

Translated by Louise and Aylmer Maude (72).
TROLLOPE. Tales of all Countries (397).

U Travel and Topography

BORROW (GEORGE). The Bible m Spam (75). Wild Wales (224).

Lavengro (66). The Romany Rye (73).
DUFFERIN (LORD). Letters from High Latitudes (158).
MELVILLE (HERMAN). Typee (294). Omoo (275).
MORIER (J. J.). Hajji Baba of Ispahan. Introduction by C. PF fc

Stewart, and a Map (238).
SMOLLETT (TOBIAS). Travels through France and Italy m 1765.

Introduction (Ixii pages) by Thomas Seccombe (90).
STERNE (LAURENCE). A Sentimental Journey ( 333).

INDEX OF AUTHORS, ETC.

Addison, 6.
Aeschylus, 5.
Africa, Stories of, 13.
Ainsworth (W. Harrison), 8.
A Kempis (Thomas), 13.
Aksakoff (Serghei), 4.
Amencan Criticism, 4, 10.
American Verse, 4.
Ancient Law, 13.
Apocrypha The (R. V.), 13,
Aristophanes, 5.
Arnold (Matthew), n.
Aurelms (Marcus), n, 13.
Austen (Jane), 8,
Austrian Short Stories, 13.

Bacon (Francis), n
Bagehot (Walter) 12.
Barrow (Sir John), 10.
Beaumont and Fletcher ; 6.
Blackmore (R. D.), 8.
Blake (William), n.
Borrow (George), 3, 14.
British Colonial Policy, 13.

Foreign Policy, 13.
Bronte" bisters, 8 n.
Browning (Robert), 6, n.
Buckle (T. H.), 10, 12
Buddha, Sayings of the, 13,
Bunyan (John), 8.
Burke, 12.
Bums (Robert), n.
Butler, 8.
Byron (Lord), u.

Carlyle (Thomas), 5, 6, 10.
Cellini (Benvenuto), 4.
Cervantes, 8,
Chaucer, u.
Chesterfield, 10.
Cobbold (Richard), 8.
Coleridge (S, T.), 10, lit
Collins (Wilkie), 8.
Colman, 6.
Confucius, 13.
Congreve (William), 6, n*
Cooper (J. Femrnore), 8.
Cowper (William), 10.
Crabbe, 5.

Crime and Detection, 13.
Critical Essays, 3, 7 io
Czech Tales, 14.

Dante, 3, n.

Darwin (Charles'), n.

Defoe (Daniel), 8.

Dekker, 6.

De Quincey (Thomas), 4.

Dickens (Charles), 8, 14.

Disraeli (Benjamin), 8.
Dobson (Austin), 5, 7, n.
Don Quixote, 8.
Douglas (George), 8.
Dryden, 5, 6.
Duffenn (Lord), 10, 14.

Eighteenth-Century Comedies,
Eliot (George), 8.
Elizabethan Comedies, 6.
Elizabethan Tragedies, 6.
Emerson (R. W.), 7.
English Critical Essays, 7, ro
English Essays, 3, 4.
English Prose, 4.
English Sermons, 7.
English Short Stones, 3,4, 14.
English Songs and Ballads, 4, n.
English Speeches, 13.
English Verse, 4, n.

Farquhar, 6,
Fielding (Henry), 6, 8.
Four Gospels, 13.
Francis (St.), 5, II.
Franklin (Benjamin), 4.
French Short Stones 14*
Froude (J. A.), 7-

Gait (John), 8.
Gaskell (Mrs.), 5, 8, 14.
Gay, 6.

German Short Stories, 14.
Ghosts and Marvels, 14.
Gibbon (Edward), 4, 10.
Gil Bias, 9.
Goethe, 6, n, 12.
Goldsmith (Oliver), 6, 8, n.
Gray (Thomas), 10, n.

Harris (J. C.), 8.
Harte (Bret), 14.
Hawthorne (Nathaniel), 8, 14,
Haydon CB. R.), >
HazUtt (William j,s, 7, 10.
Herrick (Koberr), u.
Holme (Constance), 8, 14.
Holmes (Oliver Wendell), 7,
Homer, 5, 12.
Hood (Thomas), la.
Home (R. H.) 7-
Houghton (Lord), 5*
Hunt (Leigh), 5, 7.

Ibsen (Henrik), 6, 12.
Inchbald (Mrs.), 6.
Ingoldsby Legends, n.
International Affairs, 13,
Irving (Washington), 7, 10, 14.

INDEX OF AUTHORS, ETC.

Johnson (Samuel), 5, 10.

Keats, 12.
Keble (John), 12.
Keith (A. B.), 13-
Kingsley (Henry), 9,
Koran, The, 13.

Lamb (Charles), 7.
La Motte Fouque, 9.
Landor (W. S.}, 7,
La Rochefoucauld, 7.
Lesage, 9.
Longfellow (H. W.), 12.

Macaulay (T. B.), 5, ro, 12.

Machiavelh, iz-
Mackenzie (Compton), g.
Maine, Sir Henry, 13-
Marcus Aurehus, n, 13.
Marlowe (Christopher), 6, 12.
Marryat (Captain), 9.
Massmger, 6.
Maude (Aylmer), 3,5.
Memhold (J- W.), g.
Melville (Herman), 9, 14,
Mill (John Stuart), 5, 13,
Milton (John), 7, 13.
Montaigne, 7.
More (Paul Elmer), 10.
Morier (J. J.), 9, 14,
Morris ( W.), 12.
Morton, 6.
Motley (J . I*.), lo.
Murphy, 6.

Narrative Verse, 4, 12,

New Testament, 13, '

Old Testament, 13.
Otway, 6.

Palgrave (F. T.), 4-
Pamphlets and Tracts, 4. 7.
Peacock (T. L.), 9.
Peacock (W.), 4.
Persian (From the), 14.
Poe (Edgar Allan), 14.
Polish Tales, 14.
Prescott (W, H.), 10.
Pre-Shakespearean Comedies, 6.

Rabelais, 3, 9.
Reading at Random, 4.
Redman (B. R.), 4.
Restoration 1 ragedies, 6.
Reynolds (Frederick) , 6,

Reynolds (Sir Joshua), 7.
Rossetti (Christina,), 12.
Howe, 6.

Ruskm (John), 7, 13.
Russian Short Stories, 14,
Rutherford (Mark), 7.
Sainte-Beuve, 10.
Scott (Sir W.), 5, 9, *3 14-
Scottish Verse. 4. 12.
Sermons (English), 7, 13,
Shakespeare, 6, 12.
Shakespeare Criticism, 10.
Shakespeare's Predecessors and

Contemporaries, 6.
Shelley, 12,
Sheridan (R. B.), 6.
Smith (Adam), 13.
Smith (Alexander), 7-
Smollett (T.), 7, 9, *4
Sophocles, 5.
Southerne, 6.
Southey (Robert), 10.
Spanish Short Stones, 14.
Stanhope (Lord), 5.
Steele, 6.

Sterne (Laurence), 7, 9, 14.
Stevenson (R. L.), 7, $
Sturgis, 9.
Swift (Jonathan), 9.
Swinburne, 12.
Swinnerton (Frank), 9.

Taylor (Meadows), 9.
Tennyson (Lord), 12.
Thackeray (W. M.), 9.
Three Dervishes, The, 14.
Tolstoy, 3,5,6,7,9,11, 13, 14.
Tracts and Pamphlets, 4, 7.
Trevelyan, 5.
Trollope (Anthony), 3, 5 9, *4

Virgil, 5, la-
Walpole (Hugh), 9.
Walton Clzaat), 5. 8.
Watts-Dunton (Theodore), 9,
Webster, 6

Wellington (Duke of), 5.
Wells ( Charles J, 12.
Wells (H. G.), 4-
Wharton (Edith), 9.
White (Gilbert), 8, 10.
Whitman (Walt), 8, l.
Whittier (J. G.), 12.
Wordsworth (William), 22,

August 1940

further Volumes are in preparation.

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

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