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WALTER HUSSEY BURGH

CAME into parliament under the auspices of James, Duke of Leinster, and immediately joined the opposition then formed against the administration of Lord Townshend.

His speeches when he first entered the house of commons, were very brilliant, very figurative, and far more remarkable for that elegant poetic taste, which had highly distinguished him when a member of the university, than any logical illustration or depth of argument; every session however, took away somewhat of that unnecessary and exuberant splendour.

His eloquence (says one of his contemporaries) was by no means gaudy, tumid, nor approaching to that species of oratory, which the Roman critics denominated Asiatic; but it was always decorated as the occasion required: it was often compressed, and pointed; it was sustained by great ingenuity, great rapidity of intellect, luminous and piercing satire ; in refinement, abundant, in simplicity, sterile. The classical allusions of this orator, for he was most truly one, were so apposite, they followed each other in such bright, and varied succession, and, at times, spread such an unexpected and triumphant blaze around his subject, that all persons, who were in the least tinged with literature, could never be tired of listening to him.

He accepted the office of prime serjeant during the early part of Lord Buckinghamshire's administration; but the experience of one session convinced him, that his sentiments and those of the English and Irish cabinets, on the great questions relative to the independence of Ireland, would never assimilate. He soon grew weary of his situation; when his return to the standard of opposition was marked by all ranks of people, and especially his own. profession, as a day of splendid triumph. Numerous were the congratulations which he received on this sacrifice of

official emolument, to the duty which he owed to his country. That country he loved even to enthusiasm. He moved the question of a free trade for Ireland, as the only measure that could then rescue this kingdom from total decay. The resolution was concise, energetic, and successful. He supported Mr. Grattan in all the motions which finally laid prostrate the dominion of the British parliament over Ireland., When he did so, he was not unacquainted with the vindictive disposition of the English cabinet of that day, towards all who dared to maintain such propositions. One night, when he sat down after a most able, argumentative speech in favour of the just rights of Ireland, he turned to Mr. Grattan, "I have now," said he, nor do I repent' it, sealed the door against my own preferment; and I have made the fortune of the man opposite to me," naming a particular person who sat on the treasury bench.

He loved fame, he enjoyed the blaze of his own reputation, and the most unclouded moments of his life were not those when his exertions at the bar, or in the house of commons, failed to receive their accustomed and ample tribute of admiration; that, indeed, but rarely happened; he felt it at particular moments, during his connection with the Buckinghamshire administration; nor did the general applause which he received counterbalance his temporary chagrin.

He died at a time of life when his faculties, always prompt and discriminating, approximated, as it should seem, to their fullest perfection. On the bench, where he sat more than one year, he had sometimes lost sight of that wise precept which Lord Bacon lays down for the conduct of a judge towards an advocate at the bar. "You should not affect the opinion of poignancy and expedi tion, by an impatient, and catching hearing of the coun sellors at the bar*." He seemed to be sensible of his

* Lord Bacon's speech to Judge Hutton, on being made a judge of the

Common Pleas.

deviation from this; to be convinced that security in our own opinions, like too great security in any thing, "is mortal's chiefest enemy," and that, in our daily converse with the world, we meet with others who are far wiser than ourselves, even on those points where we fondly imagine our own wisdom to be the most authenti. cated. His honest desire not to feed contention, but bring it to as speedy a determination as could reasonably be wished, deserves great praise.

"He did not," says Mr. Flood, alluding to him in one of his speeches," live to be ennobled, but he was ennobled by nature."

EDMUND BURKE.

THE early history of this great man is unusually meagre; even the place of his birth has been disputed. According to some of his biographers, he was born at Dublin; according to others, in a little town in the county of Cork. The date of his birth, however, is more certain-1st January, 1730. His father was an attorney of considerable practice; and, beside the results of his practice, had an estate of 1501. or 2007. a year. He married into the ancient family of the Nagles. Edmund was his second son; and, at a very early age was sent to Balytore school, a seminary in the north of Ireland, well known for having furnished the bar and the pulpit of that country with many distinguished men—a fact the more worthy of note, because the school has, for near a century, been under the direction of Quakers, whose oratory is not generally esteemed the best model of imitation for young men of any profession, with the exception, perhaps, of those who are intended for certain walks of the drama.

Here young Burke is said to have distinguished himself" by an ardent attachment to study, a prompt command of words, and a good taste." He proved the power of his memory by the facility with which he became a capper of verses, and the precocity of his invention by

writing a play, of which little is remembered, but " that Alfred was the principal character, and that the piece contained many sublime sentiments on liberty."

We lament the loss of this school-boy effusion; it is important to mark the gradations by which genius mounts. If the first essays of great men could always be known, we should often find their ascent to have been more gradual than is usually imagined. Many a young aspirant, who is dismayed at the height which others have attained, would be cheered and stimulated if he could ascertain what they had accomplished at his age, and the indolent and confident would be reminded that no superiority of talent can supply the necessity of early and regular exertion.

Burke regarded his preceptor, Mr. Shackelton, with feelings which did honour to both. For nearly forty-years that he went annually to Ireland, he invariably travelled many miles to pay him a visit; nor did he confine his friendship to old Mr. Shackelton, his son enjoyed it also, with whom he was in habits of constant correspondence.

From school, Burke went to Trinity College, Dublin; but here, according to his contemporary, Goldsmith, he did not distinguish himself. It may excite surprise, that the motives which placed him at the head of his school, did not operate to raise him at the university; but let the progress of the human mind be carefully observed, and the inquirer will soon find that the springs of action are very different in the child and the adult. The child performs his task from love of imitation, hope of reward, and fear of punishment; as the intellect strengthens, he begins to love learning for itself, or for the distinction which he hopes to gain by the exertion of original powers; that which was before a means becomes an end, and his former hopes and fears, and wishes, pass away and are forgotten.

We are far from asserting that such a change obtains in every mind, and still farther from maintaining that it always happens at a particular age. We only suggest this new birth as unfavourable to a very ardent affection

for college exercises, because the natural and unavoidable distinction between man and man, will always tend to produce variety of object. Artificial motives will alone produce exact conformity of movement; and where these have not only faded from the view, but are supplied with others which have a contrary effect, it must cease to be matter of surprise, that men, whose originality in after-life instructs and delights future ages, should be so often outstripped in youth by competitors, whose names will only be known to posterity from their association with those whom they conquered.

How far our theory is correct we shall leave to the decision of our readers; the facts on which it is built are numerous and incontrovertible; and, if Burke be still thought to deserve censure for coolness with regard to university honours, let it be at least remembered that, among the companions of his disgrace, must be counted Johnson, Swift, Gibbon, Dryden, and even Milton himself.

At an early period of his life, Burke is said to have planned a confutation of the metaphysical theories of Berkeley and Hume-a task which he never executed. Indeed, according to some of his biographers, his ideas flowed with too great a rapidity to enable him to give that patient attention to minute distinction, without which it is in vain to attempt a confutation of these astute and subtle reasoners. We find it sufficiently difficult to decide upon the merits of what he has done; and, therefore, feel no inclination to institute an inquiry into the possibility of his genius.

In the year 1749 we find young Burke employed upon a subject more analogous to his future pursuits. At that period, Mr. Lucas, a political apothecary, wrote papers against government, and acquired by them as much popularity in Dublin as Mr. Wilkes afterwards obtained by his North Briton in London. Burke employed against Lucas the Reductio ad absurdum; he imitated his style