The knowledge of Burke was of the most profound, various, and extensive
kind; and his excellence in almost every species of prose composition
conducted him to an eminent rank among writers. Moreover, his fame
as an orator and statesman is not inferior to that of any man who
ever appeared upon the theatre of political affairs; and he is justly
entitled to the credit of having formed and sustained his vast
reputation by genius, energy, and resolution. His own fearless pen
has recorded, for the edification of posterity, that he possessed not
one of the qualities, nor cultivated one of the arts, that recommend
aspiring intellect to the favor of the powerful; he was not made for a
minion or a tool; and he did not follow the trade of winning the hearts
by imposing on the understandings of the people. At every step in his
life he was traversed and opposed; and at every turnpike he was obliged
to show his passport, and prove a title to the honor of serving his
country. The memory of such a person surely merits a larger share of
popular attention than it has hitherto received.
[Illustration: BURKE READING TO HIS MOTHER.]
According to biographers, the family of Burke, which was ennobled
in several of its branches, could boast of ancient lineage and a
respectable position. His grandfather is stated to have been proprietor
of a considerable estate, which was inherited and disposed of by the
illustrious individual who made the name familiar to England and
Europe. This fine old Irish gentleman resided near Limerick; but his
son, having been educated to the profession of the law, carried on a
very large business as an attorney in the city of Dublin. There, on
the 1st of January, 1730, Edmund Burke entered upon his checkered and
extraordinary existence; yet hardly any event could have appeared more
improbable than that the child then born on Arran Quay should, as years
rolled on, become “the philosopher of one era, and the prophet of the
next.”
From the circumstances of his birth Burke was not subjected to the
disadvantage of a deficient education, nor to that of being destined
for pursuits uncongenial to the bent of his mind. His academic course
was, indeed, such as qualified him for the career he was appointed to
run. Being of a delicate frame he was not sent to school at the usual
early age, but taught to read by his mother, a woman of cultivated
intellect. Ere long, country air being thought necessary for his
health, he was removed from the Irish capital to the house of some
relations at Castletown Roche; and there he was placed, for initiation
into Latin, at the village seminary. In this situation he pursued his
studies with juvenile enthusiasm for several years, and then went
home for a brief period, during which he was under pedagogic rule.
Perhaps, however, a residence under the paternal roof was not found
excessively favorable to the mental development, and he was entered at
a classical academy in the county of Kildare, kept by a worthy member
of the Society of Friends, for whom, in the midst of all his subsequent
triumphs, he retained a sincere and grateful respect. On one occasion,
during a parliamentary debate, Burke, with becoming feeling, alluded to
this old teacher as “an honor to his sect;” and, assuredly, it is no
slight compliment to be spoken of in such terms by the greatest man of
an age.
Meantime the youthful pupil applied himself to his books with much
ardor and exemplary industry. He cared not to display his powers, but
stored his mind with that multifarious learning which, in many an
hour of oratorical conflict, furnished him with fine thoughts, lofty
sentiments, and noble imagery. His superiority among the boys at the
establishment appears to have been duly recognized, and was pleasingly
exhibited in cases of emergency. Once, when the assizes were held at
Carlow, he proved his natural versatility in a very amusing way. The
master had, with laudable good-humor, allowed his scholars to have a
holiday, on condition that the more advanced among them should write,
in Latin verse, a description of the procession, and the impressions
which the scene left on their minds. Burke executed the prescribed
task with ability and fullness, and was, no doubt, congratulating
himself on having acquitted himself with credit, when he was earnestly
entreated to prepare a second account of the pageant for a less
gifted class-fellow. Trusting to be supplied by his petitioner with
some slight hints for guidance in this delicate and charitable effort
at versification, the future fashioner of statesmen questioned his
comrade in regard to what part of the ceremony had struck him as most
remarkable.
“Sure,” replied the Hibernian urchin, scratching his head, “I noticed
nothing particular, but a fat piper in a brown coat.”
Dexterously availing himself of the idea thus stupidly suggested,
Burke, in a short time, produced a humorous doggerel rhyme, commencing
with
“Piper erat fattus, qui brownum tegmen habebat.”
Though his rare faculties were proudly appreciated by the learned
Quaker, who foretold they would ultimately conduct their possessor
to fame and fortune, it is worthy of remark that Burke’s gay, witty,
and vivacious brother, Richard, was generally regarded as the more
brilliantly endowed of the active attorney’s sons. The keen and
anxious eye of their father, however, perceived the superior wisdom
and energy that, even at that date, animated the glowing breast of the
youth who was to stand forward as the terror of Indian oppressors, the
champion of injured ladies, and the marvel of Christendom. Indeed,
sparks of the peculiar sympathy for the poor and desolate, which
breathes through his political discourses, already began to flash
forth with promising brightness and warmth. A humble cottager having
been compelled to pull down his little tenement at the mandate of an
imperious road-surveyor, the young spirit of Burke, who indignantly
witnessed the operation, broke out with vehement scorn, and he
emphatically declared that, if ever he had authority in the realm, no
man should, with impunity, so treat the obscure and defenseless. The
boy is father to the man, and in after years, when his renown was at
its height, he said that his object was not more to save the high from
the blights and spoliations of envy and rapacity, than the lowly from
the iron hand of oppression and the insolent spurn of contempt.
In the spring of 1744 Burke was entered as a pensioner at Trinity
College, Dublin. Two years later he was elected a scholar of the house.
To obtain the latter distinction a candidate had to go through a
successful examination in the classics, before the provost and senior
fellows, after which he was entitled to a small annuity, a vote for
the representatives of the University, and free chambers and commons
for a certain period. But it does not appear that Burke generally
sought opportunities of proving the might of that genius which he must
have felt to be in him. On the contrary, he silently hoarded up that
universal information, which, in other days and in very different
circumstances, he exhibited in forms so grand and magnificent. Thus,
when the proper time arrived, he was able to speak or converse with
eloquence and correctness on almost any subject that presented itself.
He gave much attention to rhetoric, and improved his mind by perpetual
and sagacious reflection. While at college his habits were quiet, his
character unpretending, and his conduct marked by regularity.
Burke had, long before leaving the University, been enrolled as a
student of law at the Middle Temple, but he was in no particular
haste to keep his terms. It is even related that, while studying with
zeal and earnestness at home to improve his capacity and extend his
learning, he was induced to apply for the Logic chair at Glasgow, but
too late to gain his object. At length, seeing no fair field for the
exercise of his talents in the land of his birth, he resolved to betake
himself to London, trusting to achieve for himself, by ability and
industry, a position of honor and independence. He had already devoted
much time to accomplish himself in composition, and written several
essays to counteract the doctrines of a democratic Irish apothecary,
whose daring lucubrations had won their author considerable local
fame. Thus were exercised the rare strength and invincible courage in
political controversy which afterward enabled him to trample many a
potent and well-appointed adversary in the dust. It might have been
that his success in this contest inspired him with the desire of
signalizing his singular prowess in a wider field. At all events he
repaired to the English metropolis.
His journey thither was not undertaken without feelings of sadness;
and his eyes often filled with tears, as, after crossing the Channel,
he was rolled through a country ornamented with pleasant mansions,
neat cottages, and villages, whose cheerful and industrious appearance
he could not help contrasting with the poverty of his native isle.
Agriculture, he says, was his favorite science, and would have been his
chosen pursuit if Providence had blessed his youth with acres. He was,
therefore, highly interested in, and pleased with, its progress in the
country he was now adopting.
At the time of his arrival in London, Burke was by no means unfitted,
by knowledge or experience, to struggle with advantage. His classical
and philosophical acquirements were enormous, and he had no slight
conception of life and society. He was an eager observer of mankind,
and had seen enough of the gay and fashionable while hanging on in
Dublin to acquit himself with propriety in any company to which his
marvelous conversational powers might procure him access. His stories
and anecdotes were characterized by interest and variety. They did
not lose any thing in effect by the look and manner with which they
were set off, nor by the slight Irish accent, which to the last was
perceptible, especially in his colloquial displays. Thus accomplished,
he commenced his career of intellectual triumph by contributing
to periodicals; thereby sharpening his wits and increasing his
intelligence. The character of Englishmen immediately commanded his
respect, and, celebrated as his birth-place ever has been for its
display of female beauty, the graces of Englishwomen excited his
enthusiastic admiration. He complained, indeed, that there was less
regard paid to men of letters than he had been led to imagine, and
that genius was in small danger of being enervated by the patronage
of power. But he probably felt that his must in the end bear him
upward, in spite of every obstacle: so he strove against discontent,
and adhered steadfastly to habits of temperance, keeping his glorious
intellect unobscured by the cloud which is certain to follow
dissipation. The buildings in the wonderful city of which he was now an
inhabitant, struck him as being very fine; and in good time, attracted,
probably, by the descriptions of Addison, he visited the edifices of
Westminster. He was deeply impressed with awe and veneration for the
sacredness and solemnity of the place, and thought that sound and
useful lessons might be learned from the monuments. Indeed, it is not
difficult to conceive what fine thoughts and high imaginings must
have crossed the mind and irradiated the brain of Burke, as, for the
first time, he wandered through the venerable Abbey, and perambulated
that historic Hall, which, in later days, was the scene of the most
surpassing effort of his genius.
While earning a livelihood by literary labor, the income of the
brilliant aspirant was no doubt small; but his industry was unceasing.
He produced essays on various literary and political subjects for
weekly and daily publications, and he studied with singular diligence.
He usually read with a pen in his hand to make notes, extracts, and
reflections. His apprehension was peculiarly quick, and his memory
retentive; and he could thus travel with rapidity over a wide field.
But it is impossible to work incessantly without impairing the health.
A somewhat severe illness caused him to resort, for medical advice,
to Dr. Nugent, a physician of skill and talent, who, considering that
proper care and attention were more likely to prove beneficial than any
medicine administered in the dust and solitude of the Temple, kindly
invited the invalid to take up his quarters for a time under his roof.
Burke wisely accepted the hospitality thus offered.
During the restoration of his patient to health and vigor, the Doctor
found in his daughter an efficacious assistant; Burke found in her an
amiable and agreeable companion, who soon made an impression on his
heart. In such circumstances, even “the greatest philosopher in action
the world ever saw” acted like other mortals; he told his enamored
tale, and they were forthwith united. This step was most fortunate;
the lady proved herself eminently worthy of his affection; and when
years had brought trouble and anxiety in their train, her husband often
declared, that all his racking cares departed whenever he crossed the
threshold of his own house.
Burke had now a double motive to exertion. Animated by that love of
fame――
“Which the clear spirit doth raise
To scorn delights, and live laborious days.”
and at the same time by that sense of duty which is not the least
laudable incitement to mental energy, he applied himself to the
production of some work that might establish his name; and accordingly
his “Vindication of Natural Society,” in which the writer covertly,
and with admirable effect, imitated the style and principles of
Bolingbroke, made its appearance. The treatise exhibited much
historical knowledge, versatility of genius, and sagacity of mind; but
it failed to meet with the success or notice which its ingenious irony
might have been expected to secure. It was published in the year 1756,
and soon followed by his “Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful,” which so
much pleased and delighted the author’s father, that a remittance of a
hundred pounds was the consequence.
From this auspicious period Burke’s celebrity and importance may be
dated; and his reputation speedily secured him a worthy position among
men of letters and eminence. Sir Joshua Reynolds sought his society;
and at the hospitable mansion of the immortal painter he formed the
acquaintance of Dr. Johnson, who declared his new friend to be the
greatest man living. “Take up whatever topic you will,” he was in the
habit of saying, “Burke is ready to meet you. If he were to go into a
stable and talk to the ostlers for a short time, they would venerate
him as the wisest of human beings. No person of sense ever met him
under a gateway to avoid a shower who did not go away convinced that he
was the first man in England.”
In the year 1764 Reynolds proposed the formation of a club, which
met at the Turk’s Head, and soon comprehended several of the most
distinguished literary and political characters of whom Great Britain
boasted. It long flourished without a name, but was at length
recognized as the Literary Club. One of the nine original members was
Oliver Goldsmith, who had been a college contemporary of Burke, and
afterward gone to study medicine in Edinburgh. He had since traveled
over much of the Continent, holding learned disputations at the
different Universities that came in his way, where success entitled
him to a dinner, a night’s lodging, and a small sum of money. He had
now thrown himself into the republic of letters, and much amused the
brilliant circle at the Turk’s Head by his strange eccentricities and
ludicrous blunders.
At their meetings Burke was found fully a match for Johnson; and it was
observed, that he was almost the only man living from whom the huge
sage would bear contradiction. The subject of Bengal was sometimes
under discussion; and Burke, even at that period, showed an extent and
accuracy of information in regard to it rarely to be met with.
Burke had already projected and brought into operation the “Annual
Register,” which was for years carried on under his sagacious
inspection; though political matters soon occupied so much of his
attention that he had little leisure for literary pursuits not strictly
connected with affairs of state: but his introduction to public life
was gradual. In the year 1759 he became acquainted with _Singlespeech_
Hamilton, son of a Scottish advocate who had come to England at the
Union. This mysterious individual had, a short while previously, made
the solitary but successful oratorical effort from which his nickname
was derived, in a debate long remembered as one of the greatest in
which the parliamentary personages of that generation had partaken.
In 1761 he went to Ireland as Secretary to the Lord-lieutenant, and
Burke accompanied him as a friend and adviser. For his services on this
occasion the latter was granted a pension of £300 a year, which he
sacrificed, after enjoying it for eighteen months, on his rupture with
Hamilton.
Soon after making this sacrifice, which did not prevent him tendering
his aid and drawing his purse to forward the interests of his whimsical
countryman, Barry the painter, Burke had the gratification of playing a
part in the political world. On the dismissal of George Grenville from
the head of affairs, Lord Rockingham, chief of the Whig magnates, was
intrusted with the duty of forming an administration. That nobleman,
having been filled with admiration of Burke’s occasional papers in the
“Public Advertiser,” was led to desire the acquaintance of the writer,
who speedily became his private secretary, and member of parliament for
Wendover. He was, not, however, “swaddled, rocked, and dandled into a
legislator.” He set himself studiously to comprehend official forms and
parliamentary proceedings, used every means to accomplish himself in
voice and action――with that view even frequenting the theatre to derive
hints and instruction from the tones, looks, and gestures of Garrick.
Both by solitary study and debating at a society, he prepared himself
to take an active part in the business of the House of Commons. He made
his first speech on the bill for repealing the American Stamp Act, with
an eloquence which excited the admiration of all present, and evoked
the valuable praise of the great Earl of Chatham. Sir John Hawkins
expressed his amazement at the extraordinary eminence to which Burke
had suddenly ascended; upon which Dr. Johnson said,
“Sir, there is nothing marvelous in it; we who know Burke feel sure
that he will be one of the first men in the country.”
On the fall of the Rockingham ministry, to which his genius had
imparted some degree of dignity, Burke wrote and circulated a plain and
simple defense of its measures. He soon after made an ironical reply
to his own pamphlet in the form of a letter, signed “Whittington,” and
professing to be the production of a tallow-chandler, who aspired to
the office of lord-mayor. In this epistle a severe attack was made on
the cabinet which Lord Chatham had just put together.
By this time Burke, from his intimacy with patrician senators, was
known and appreciated in the world of fashion, where his talents
and acquirements qualified him to shine, in spite of those social
demarcations whose lines are not always justly drawn. He was an
especial favorite, and won golden opinions in the “blue-stocking”
circles; and he was wisely careful not to mortify the vanity nor incur
the wrath of learned ladies, by pointing out their errors or exposing
their fallacies. His position in Parliament was soon ascertained and
ere long recognized. On the very day when he broke ground in the House
of Commons, the first Pitt addressed it for the last time, and men were
in doubt which of them was the more splendid speaker. Ere two years had
elapsed, Burke had established his oratorical supremacy.
About this period a tract of Grenville’s exhibited so much ill-nature
that the Rockingham party felt the necessity of retaliating.
Accordingly, Burke published his “Observations on the Present State of
the Nation.” The popular error that a man of genius can not deal with
practical matters as successfully as those who are less richly endowed
by nature, was the consolation of mediocrity very much earlier than the
days of Burke, and from him it now met with a signal refutation. He
executed his task with complete triumph on every point of consequence,
and proved his mastery over the dry, minute, financial, and statistical
details, which were supposed to form the stronghold and peculiar
province of his sharp but narrow-minded adversary.
Burke had, ere this, purchased a pleasant villa near Beaconsfield, in
Buckinghamshire, where he could enjoy rural privacy and rest his eye on
lawns, woods, meadows, and corn-fields. Attached to his residence was
land worth about six hundred a-year, of which he retained the greater
part in his own occupation, that he might indulge in the satisfaction
of farming. Without adopting any expensive system, he proved himself
one of the most successful agriculturists in the county. When living
in town he had various articles of produce carted up with his own
stout nags, which were employed one day to draw his carriage, and on
the next to plow the soil. As a country gentleman he exerted himself
to the utmost to ameliorate the condition of the peasantry among whom
he lived; he was daily earning their blessings by the schemes he
devised for their benefit. He planned various institutions for enabling
mechanics and laborers to save something from their wages against the
season of sickness, and his hand was ever open as day to the poor or
distressed. Thus he won and enjoyed the respect and admiration of the
neighborhood. To his numerous guests his hospitality was overflowing.
He neither affected style nor studied display, but regaled them with
substantial fare, and delighted them with cheerful and entertaining
conversation. Among his visitors he counted Dr. Johnson, for whose
talents and virtues he always expressed a sincere esteem, and by whose
death-bed his voice faltered with grief and emotion.
As one of the freeholders of Bucks, Burke drew up a petition concerning
the Middlesex election, which was approved of by a county meeting, and
presented by him to Parliament. He likewise set forth his views and
opinions of the political affairs of the day, in a treatise entitled
“Thoughts on the Present Discontents,” wherein he advocated the
claims of the great Whig connection to the government of the empire.
In the House of Commons he maintained their interests with unrivaled
eloquence; he led their ranks, in opposition to Lord North, during the
American War; and he was justly regarded as by far the most formidable
assailant whom that minister had to encounter in the arena of debate.
His magnificent speech on American taxation was considered one of the
most extraordinary on record; but his fanciful flights and profound
reasoning were often too little adapted to the taste of his audience
to be relished or followed; and his contemporaries became careless of
attending to orations which, nevertheless, will last as long as the
English language. His own friends, who crept stealthily away to avoid
listening to his rich effusions, were, on their publication, surprised
at the delight experienced in perusing them. Such was their treatment
of an orator who spoke for posterity.
A dissolution occurring in 1774, Burke was, without his knowledge, put
in nomination as a candidate for the representation of Bristol. He
had just been elected for Malton, in Yorkshire, when the intelligence
of this unsought distinction arrived; and straightway he proceeded
to the ancient city. There his eloquence was exerted with such force
that it penetrated even the heads of the wealthy traders in rum and
sugar, who, after a protracted contest, placed him at the top of the
poll. An amusing anecdote is related of his colleague in the canvass――a
colonial merchant. After one of the mighty orator’s most glowing
addresses to the inhabitants, the worthy individual feeling himself
quite overpowered by the torrent, instead of attempting to explain his
views to the audience as expected, exclaimed with grave but excited
earnestness, “I say _ditto_ to Mr. Burke! I say _ditto_ to Mr. Burke!”
It happened, however, that when the next general election took place,
Burke had rendered himself so unpopular to the constituency by his
support of the Catholic claims and of the Irish Trade Acts, that he
judged it prudent to decline a contest; and he again took shelter in
the borough of Malton, which he represented during the remainder of his
parliamentary career.
The party, which Burke had all but created by his intellect and
determination, had, meantime, been reinforced by an ally of rare
prowess and extraordinary capacity. Charles James Fox, a younger son
of that Lord Holland who had sprung into political life under the
auspices of Sir Robert Walpole, and been ennobled for services rendered
to Lord Bute, had entered the House before he was of legal age. For
a while Fox held a subordinate appointment in the Government of Lord
North, but was dismissed from it on account of some refractory votes.
He then, in spite of his unfortunate gaming propensities, made himself
one of the most accomplished debaters ever heard, by speaking every
night but one during five sessions. He became the pupil of Burke, from
whom he frankly avowed having learned more than from all other men and
authors. Gradually he superseded his master in the leadership, and
their united efforts forced Lord North from power.
The Marquis of Rockingham now returned to his former position, and
Burke received the appointment of Paymaster-general, then one of the
most lucrative in the state, and was admitted into the privy council.
But, in defiance of all fairness and gratitude, he was excluded
from the cabinet. The death of Lord Rockingham, in 1782, terminated
his party’s tenure of office; and Lord Shelburne being called on to
undertake the duties of government, intrusted the lead of the Lower
House to Pitt, then little more than twenty-three years of age. Upon
this was formed the celebrated Fox and North coalition which speedily
drove Lord Shelburne into retirement, though his youthful colleague
had struggled with signal skill, dauntless courage, and commanding
eloquence to baffle the efforts of the terrible foes ranged in fierce
opposition. The Duke of Portland then became nominal premier; Fox and
his ancient enemy, Lord North, were the principal secretaries of state;
and Burke calmly went back to the Pay-office. But Pitt succeeded in
defeating their East India Bill, and returned to power in the capacity
of prime minister.
Burke on this set out on his crusade against the abuses and tyranny,
which had long occupied his thoughts. Fourteen years previously the
affairs of India had become a subject of Parliamentary deliberation and
national interest; and Burke had proceeded to investigate the matter
with restless energy. The East India Directors had proposed to send him
out at the head of a commission for the reformation of abuses, with
discretionary powers. He declined the offer, but applied himself with
persevering industry to acquire a thorough knowledge of the question.
The time had now arrived when it was to be turned to account; and
forthwith commenced the long and fierce contest, in the course of which
he shook the old oak roof of Westminster Hall with his denunciations of
the great Eastern culprit.
Warren Hastings, originally sent out to India as a poor orphan, whom
his guardian was glad to be rid of, landed in 1785 on the free soil of
Britain, after having maintained and extended the English empire in the
East, administered its affairs with singular capacity, and gathered
a large fortune for himself. Burke believed him to be sullied with
various crimes, and within a week of his triumphant arrival gave notice
of a motion seriously affecting his character as a ruler. With fiery
zeal, relentless animosity, and unflagging industry, he commenced and
carried on the assault, till, in February 1788, the memorable trial
began in Westminster Hall, which was gorgeously fitted up for the
occasion. On the third day Burke addressed the court, and his opening
speech occupied four sittings. The passion and energy of the orator
were worked up to a pitch which overbore, for a time, the conviction
of those who entertained friendly feelings for the accused. With all
the ardor of his great soul, with all the powers of his splendid
imagination, and with all the might of his marvelous intellect, he
denounced in the loftiest language the misconduct with which Hastings
stood charged. Ladies shrieked and fainted; men muttered and execrated
the dark deeds his rich mind and brilliant fancy portrayed with all the
eloquence of the highest genius; and even the feelings of the criminal
were so carried away by the resistless flood, that he almost believed
himself guilty. The effect, however, was evanescent; the ceremony
proceeded languidly; and years after it was brought to a termination by
the acquittal of the Governor-general. Meantime, on the breaking out
of the French Revolution, Burke, indignant at the removal of ancient
landmarks, took a most gloomy view of its tendency, and was thus
separated in opinion from his former associates, who did not hesitate
to express their satisfaction at the event, and their admiration of the
principles that had produced it. A party rupture was the consequence;
and in 1791, during a Canadian debate, Burke, who had previously
declared that he and Sheridan had parted forever, solemnly renounced
all political and private friendship with Fox. “My separation,” he
stated, “is a principle, and not a passion. I hold it my sacred duty
to confirm what I have said and written by this sacrifice. And to
what purpose would be the reunion of a moment? Henceforth I can have
no delight with him, nor he with me.” Even when on his death-bed, he
adhered sternly and steadfastly to this resolution, and declined an
interview with his old friend and pupil. He had already published his
“Reflections on the French Revolution,” which soon overshadowed and
agitated Europe. Dublin University conferred on him the degree of
LL.D. for the wondrous power with which he had pleaded for established
governments; and Oxford communicated to him an address of thanks.
Though long exposed to multitudinous annoyances, and irritated by
inferior men, his intellect had not suffered in the slightest degree.
Doubtless, his counsels in regard to Continental affairs were somewhat
fierce, arbitrary, and impracticable, as was not unnatural at a time
when blood was flowing like water. But his genius and knowledge were
still gloriously conspicuous; and this crowning effort of his powers as
a writer was more than equal in strength, ability, and imagination to
the splendid achievements of his earlier and more vigorous years.
In 1795 a pension was bestowed upon him for his long and faithful
services to the State. This, although the slightest reward which a
grateful monarch could have bestowed on his most gifted subject for
labors on which Englishmen, to the latest generations, will look back
with pride, as they profit by his burning sentences and words of
wisdom, brought upon him most rancorous attacks. He was still mourning
the loss of his only son, a youth of great promise; but, nevertheless,
produced an answer characterized by his tried ability and scornful
sarcasm. But no defense was necessary; and he who had sacrificed his
repose, pleasures, and satisfactions to what he considered his duty
to the country, and who had ever, without fear, favor, or affection,
obeyed the dictates of conscience and the promptings of patriotism,
need have cared little for the puny assailants who now crawled forth
with their ragged mops to bespatter the wide and broad mirror that
reflected his unrivaled greatness to an admiring world.
At length, in 1797, his bodily health began, rapidly to decline, though
his mental faculties continued unimpaired to the last. On the 8th of
July in that year he expired, after a brief struggle, and was buried in
Beaconsfield church, where a plain mural tablet has been erected to his
immortal memory.