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ject, and the entire command and knowledge displayed of it, or to the novel aspect in which he presented questions already so thoroughly discussed and familiar—this statement may be pronounced to be unparalleled in its power and effect, unsurpassed as a masterpiece of commanding oratory. Its effect on Burke himself was, on one occasion, to deprive him of the power of articulation, while some of the terrible details caused others to faint. This extraordinary trial was not concluded for nearly ten years, during which Burke's energy never failed or flagged, commencing his closing speech on the 28th May, 1794, which occupied nine days, and on 23d April, 1796, Hastings was acquitted by a large majority of the peers. Upon the conduct and motives of Burke in this prosecution there has always been, and will be, a diversity of opinion. While, on the one hand, personal causes for animosity are suggested, which the extreme severity and almost savageness of Burke's language and demeanour would seem to confirm—on the other hand, the well-known purity of his life, the kindliness of his nature, and his hatred to all corruption and oppression, as well as the profound interest which he had for years taken in the affairs of India, justify us in doubting that this one act was at variance in principle from the whole course of his life, and constrain us to believe that he was compelled to this painful undertaking by a sense of duty that overpowered all feeling of danger. During these proceedings Burke took part in most of the public questions of the time. In 1786 he visited Ireland, and in the following year was elected a member of the Royal Irish academy. The regency question, consequent on the illness of the king, which occurred the following year, occupied a great portion of Burke's attention, and the principal part of the opposition was thrown upon him by the illness of Fox. The progress of revolutionary feeling in France had now developed itself so plainly, that it was impossible for one of Burke's constitutional principles and political wisdom to remain longer silent. An occasion soon forced him to speak out. In his debate on the army estimates in February, 1790, Fox pronounced an eulogium on the revolt of the French guards. This sentiment was met by a storm of reprobation from the house; and on the renewal of the debate, Burke deprecated such opinions being advanced on the authority of so great a name, and delivered those immortal sentiments which excited the admiration of all who heard him, and enlisted the sympathies of the whole nation; declaring that he "would quit his best friends and join his most avowed enemies, to oppose the least influence of such a spirit in England." This declaration was received with loud applause, in which Pitt joined. Fox replied with moderation, and Burke was disposed to accept his concessions. Unfortunately the petulance of Sheridan made a breach inevitable, by charging Burke with "deserting from the camp, with assaulting the principles of freedom, and defending despotism." Burke now separated from his former colleagues, and produced the memorable "Reflections on the Revolution of France," a work which has had no equal in knowledge, eloquence, or insight into the tortuous spirit of party; in that "foreseeing and vigorous conception of the revolutionary career, which makes the whole amount to the most magnificent political prophecy ever given to the world." Within the year 19,000 copies were sold in England, and 13,000 in France. This work produced an effect such as no other political essay ever had, whether for extent or for permanent importance. It arrested the violent progress of the revolutionary spirit in England, and gave the first and most decisive check to the disorganizing influences which were rapidly spreading through Europe. Honour and commendation poured in upon him from every quarter. The university of Dublin conferred on him the degree of doctor of laws; the graduates of Oxford presented him with an address, through Mr. Windham; the bishop of Aix, and the expatriated French clergy, acknowledged their obligations in the most ardent language; while in England the whole body of established literature was loud in his praise. The views propounded tended, too, to introduce a schism in the whig party, and to endanger the prospects of Mr. Fox, and thus it led to the final breach between these two great men. Upon the debate on the Quebec bill on the 6th of May, 1791, Burke, in reply to a speech of Fox, declared that "their friendship was at an end." This statement touched Fox to the heart, and when he rose to reply the tears streamed from his eyes, and his emotion prevented him for some time from addressing the house. Burke now formally withdrew from the whigs, and stood alone, for he did not join the opposition party. Thus excluded from any effective line of parliamentary conduct, he occupied himself in political writing. He drew up a paper entitled "Thoughts on French Affairs," which he offered to the consideration of government, but which was not published till after his death. About this time the Roman catholic party in Ireland solicited him to support their claims in parliament, to which he assented, and his efforts in their behalf were attended with considerable success. He also took part in several questions which were then agitating the country, and drew up his "Heads for Consideration on the Present State of Affairs."

Burke was now anxious to retire from parliamentary life, and had made arrangements for his son, then thirty-five years of age, succeeding him in the representation of Malton. One of his undertakings remained incomplete, and for this only he postponed his retirement: judgment had not yet been given in the case of Warren Hastings. On the 25th of June, 1794, Burke appeared for the last time in the house of commons, to receive their thanks for the faithful discharge of the duties reposed in him, and shortly after accepted the Chiltern Hundreds. But the heaviest affliction of his life was now impending. He had already secured a bright opening for his son, as secretary to Lord Fitzwilliam, then about to go to Ireland as viceroy; but consumption had already showed itself in this promising and most amiable young man, and its rapid progress could not be stayed. He died on the 2nd of August, a few days after his election for Malton. From the effects of this blow Burke never recovered; and he might be said to be visibly approaching the grave from the moment of his son's death. He was, to use his own words, "a desolate old man." "I am alone," he writes to a friend; "I have none to meet my enemies in the gate: desolate at home, stripped of my boast, my hope, my consolation, my helper, my counsellor, and my pride." Burke was to have been promoted to a peerage—such an honour would have been now valueless, almost a mockery. When the violence of the shock had somewhat abated, Burke betook himself once more to the resources of his former life, and from time to time published several letters and papers on the great political events of the time. In the scarcity of corn in 1795-96, Burke erected a mill, and retailed corn at a reduced price, at great private sacrifice. In 1795 pensions to the amount of £3700 a year were granted to him by the government, at the express desire of the king. This act of gratitude, so well deserved, did not escape party censure. The duke of Bedford and Lord Lauderdale attacked in parliament the retired veteran, but were crushed by an able and manly reply from Lord Grenville, and their demolition completed by Burke himself in his "Letter to a noble Lord." To the last day of his life Burke devoted himself to public good, and to acts of private and extensive charities. Though exhausted in body, his mind lost none of its vigour or clearness; and the last production of his pen, "Thoughts on a Regicide Peace," gives proofs that he had still the same masterly and powerful intellect. But he was now rapidly sinking. On Friday the 7th of July, 1797, being conscious of his approaching end, he set himself to review the conduct of his past life, vindicating his intentions, regretting any petulance of manner or severity of rebuke which might have given pain; leaving it as an earnest assurance that he never designed to give offence. He then gave himself entirely to the consolations of religion. The following morning, feeling weariness, he expressed a wish to be carried into another room; and as Mr. Nagle and some of the servants were bearing him in their arms, he faintly said—"God bless you," and died. It was proposed by Mr. Fox that he should be honoured by a public funeral, and interred in Westminster abbey; but by his own desire, expressed in his will, he was buried in Beaconsfield church, without pomp or expense, beside the remains of his beloved son. He was in his sixty-eighth year.

The respect and admiration which was awarded to this great man by his contemporaries has been fully affirmed by posterity. One who knew him well, calls him "the prodigy of nature and acquisition. He read everything, he saw everything, he foresaw everything." His biographer. Dr. Croly, gives us this forcible and elegant estimate:—"The rank of Burke as a writer of consummate eloquence had been decided from the beginning of his career; the progress of the Revolution placed him in equal eminence as a statesman, and every year since has added to his renown as a prophet. With the most palpable powers for reaching the loftiest heights of speculation, he is the least abstract of all speculators. With the poetic fancy which so