hould be lurking within our lines as a spy." "On the vhole," says Lord Holland, "if greatness consists in compreension of mind and fertility of genius, rather than in wisdom of design and judgment in action-and if by goodness we nean rectitude of intention, and disinterestedness of conduct, ather than justice, affection, or moderation-Burke may pass for a great and good man. His chief defect was an imperious and uncontrollable temper. This disfigured his manners, clouded his judgment, and sometimes corrupted his heart; yet none could sacrifice more to public honour and private friendship. Examine his motives, he might pass for a patriot; look to his opinions, and with all his powers, he was almost a bigot." In the Edinburgh Review, 1830, we find this estimate: "Mr. Burke assuredly possessed an understanding admirably fitted for the investigation of truth,-an understanding stronger than that of any statesman, active or speculative, of the eighteenth century,-stronger than anything except his own fierce and ungovernable sensibility. Hence, he generally chose his side like a fanatic, and defended it like a philosopher. His conduct, in the most important events of his life -at the time of the impeachment of Hastings, for example, and at the time of the French Revolution-seems to have been prompted by those feelings and motives, which Mr. Coleridge has so happily described: Stormy pity, and the cherish'd lure Hindostan, with its vast cities, its gorgeous pagodas, its infinite swarms of dusky population, its long-descended dynasties, its stately etiquette, excited in a mind so capacious, so imaginative, and so susceptible, the utmost interest! The peculiarities of the costume, of the manners, and of the laws, * Coleridge said of Burke: "He possessed and had sedulously sharpened that eye which sees all things, actions, and events, in relation to the laws which determine their existence and circumscribe their possibility. He referred habitually to principles-he was a scientific statesman." the very mystery which hung over the language and origin of the people, seized his imagination. To plead in Westminster Hall, in the name of the English people, at the bar of the English nobles, for great nations and Kings separated from him by half the world, seemed to him the height of human glory. "Again, it is not difficult to perceive that his hostility to the French Revolution principally arose from the vexation which he felt at having all his old political associations disturbed, at seeing the well-known boundary-marks of states obliterated, and the names and distinctions with which the history of Europe had been filled for ages, swept away. He felt like an antiquary whose shield had been scoured, or a connoisseur who found his Titian retouched. But, however he came by an opinion, he had no sooner got it, than he did his best to make out a legitimate title to it. His reason, like a spirit in the service of an enchanter, though spell-bound, was still mighty. It did whatever work its passion and imagination might impose. But it did that work, however arduous, with marvellous dexterity and vigour. His course was not determined by argument; but he could defend the wildest course by arguments more plausible, than those by which common men support opinions which they have adopted after the fullest deliberation. Reason has scarcely ever displayed, even in those well-constituted minds of which she occupies the throne, so much power and energy as in the lowest offices of that imperial servitude." One of the latest and best tributes to the great orator appeared in the Times journal of the 9th of April, 1852: "The intellectual prowess of Edmund Burke is the admiration of the world. Since Bacon quitted life, England had not possessed so marvellous a son. Philosophy dwelt in his soul, and raised him to the dignity of a prophet. Gorgeous eloquence was his natural inheritance, practical wisdom his chief accomplishment, while all the intellectual graces were *Edinburgh Review, 1830. his hourly companions. Politics, when he dealt with them, assumed a grandeur which they had never known before, for he raised them above the exigencies of his own fleeting lay, to apply them to the instruction and the wants of future ages. It has been justly remarked that the contemporaries of Burke, great and illustrious men, bravely fought and nobly conquered: but they were content with the victory of the hour. Burke, too, achieved his conquest for the day; but did not rest satisfied until he had won from the conflict wisdom, intelligence, and lofty principle for all time to come. Fox was the creation of his age. Burke is not the statesman of a period or of a place, but the enduring teacher of the universal family-the abiding light of the civilized world. When Fox spoke, says Chateaubriand, it was in vain that the stranger tried to resist the impression made upon him. He turned aside and wept.' We read the speeches of Fox at this not very distant day, and marvel at their declared effect, for our tears do not flow from the perusal, our blood is not warmed by the syllables. Still more are we astonished to learn that the pregnant and singularly profound language of Burke fell too frequently upon stony ears, and that the rising of the orator was often a signal for the flight of his audience. Yet the double wonderment is easy of explanation. That which will render Shakspeare familiar to our hearths, while a hearth can be kindled in England, will also secure the immortality of Edmund Burke. There was nothing local, nothing temporary, nothing circumscribed in his magnificent utterances. His appeals were not to the prejudices of his contemtemporaries or to the ever-changing sentiments of the time. He marched with a sublime movement ever in advance of the multitude. Every generation can point to its popular chief, and there are few epochs which do not boast of their Fox. In what political age shall we look for a statesman in all respects so illustrious as Burke ?" APPENDIX. LORD CHATHAM'S PROPHECY. THE following spirited poem, published in June, 1776, an placed in the mouth of Lord Chatham, embodies the antic pation of the result of the struggle for American Independence, then at its greatest height: When boasting Gage was hurried o'er Your plumed corps, though Percy cheers, Yet Albion's heroes bite the plain, Some tuneful bard, who pants for fame, For Spartan valour here renown'd, Heroic Warren fell! Erewhile a Howe indignant rose, A coward's orders to perform, *Lord Howe. Though darkness all the horizon shroud, Yet Franklin, versed in Nature's laws, Around him Sydneys, Hampdens throng; Can Roman zeal inspire; The Amphictyon council, hand in hand, Can fleets or troops such spirits tame, Midst the snow-storm† yon hero‡ shines, He falls, the soldier, patriot sage! Brighten the chain, the wampum tie, An allusion to the words of the "Address of the twelve United inces to the Inhabitants of Great Britain :" "We can retire beyond reach of your navy, and without any sensible diminution of the ssaries of life, enjoy a luxury, which from that period you will want e luxury of being free." : The account of the attack on Quebec, published by the Congress, "When everything was prepared, the General waited the opporty of a snow-storm to carry his design into execution-being obliged ke a circuit, the signal for the attack was given, and the garrison ned before he reached the place; however, pressing on, he forced irst barrier, and was just opening the attempt on the second, when as unfortunately killed." General Montgomery, who was slain in the attack on Quebec, |