that these sentiments are at direct variance with those expressed by a very able writer when treating of the private character of Mr. Fox, who says, 'take the word honour in whatever accept. ance it can be applied, it will, from the narrowest scrutiny that can possibly be gone into Mr. Fox's life, be found, that he never, even in the remotest degree, violated the strictest laws of honour.' We pledge ourselves, in the course of this work, that in his relations with the Prince of Wales we will disprove that statement in many important particulars, and under circumstances which can throw no palliative hue over the conduct which he pursued.

The person who was supposed at this time to hold a second place in the friendship of the Prince of Wales as a political man, was Mr. Burke. Of the character of this great orator we are not to judge from the maxims of his later years, but from the principles which he asserted up to the period when he was distinguished by the friendship of his Royal Highness. Brought into public notice by the munificence of the Marquess of Rockingham, and attached to the Whig party both by sentiment and gratitude, the splendour of his eloquence, and his various literary attainments, had raised him to a high rank both in the political and literary world. The conduct of Mr. Burke, in his declining years, casts a shade over his character; but we are disposed rather to view this luminary as he shone in the political hemisphere at the meridian of his glory, than in his declension, when the evening and the lowering tempests of night obscured and deformed his setting rays.

Mr. Burke was, on many accounts, one of the most remarkable men of his times. He was what few of our modern statesmen have been-the architect of his own preferment, without ever having had occasion to blush for the means which brought him forward to public notice. Born with a vast and comprehensive genius, which he cultivated with the most assiduous industry, he rose to eminence by his own talents; and the patronage that was conferred on him reflected as much honour on the discernment of his Royal Highness as his own abilities reflected credit on himself. It is not easy to pronounce the eulogy of such a man; not because we find it difficult. to separate those parts of his public conduct which we disap

prove from those which we admire—and, indeed, we may say, as proceeding from such a mind as Mr. Burke's, which we reverence, but because so many great qualities were united in Mr. Burke's composition, that it is next to impossible to give a rough sketch of the combined effect of the whole.

In one particular, however, we will do that justice to the character of Mr. Burke, which it so preeminently deserves, by declaring that he neither encouraged nor fostered the libertine dispositions of the illustrious individual who honoured him with his friendship and esteem. In many instances he attempted to dissuade him from pursuing a career which must ultimately end in disgrace and ruin, and to which it was evident that he was led on by the example of his profligate companions, reckless, as it would appear, of the consequences resulting to the injury of his character as a prince and a man. Circumstanced, however, as Mr. Burke was, and in conformity with the principle of noscitur a sociis, it was impossible for him to escape coming in for a share of the general obloquy which was at this time attached to the associates of the Prince, who were regarded, in the majority, as a set of men with bankrupt fortunes, who administered to his wanton appetites merely for the purpose of their own aggrandizement.

Looking, however, at Mr. Burke merely as a public man, and as one of the most distinguished leaders of the House of Commons, we can affirm of him, without the least fear of contradiction, that the universality of his knowledge and erudition, the powers of his imagination, the rapidity of his eloquence, the perfection of his language, and the various objects to which those endowments were applied, all conspired to make him one of the most prominent and conspicuous characters of his time. It may perhaps be considered by some as a misfortune in the world that the extraordinary genius of this man, whose private studies might have so greatly delighted and instructed it, should have been thrown into the tumult of public life, and absorbed in the vortex of politics. But let us take a passing glance at the various and astonishing qualities of his oratorical powers, before we too rashly condemn the destiny which conducted Mr. Burke to the triumphs of the senate-house.

The argumentative powers of Mr. Burke were of the highest order; his sources of knowledge were universal and inexhaustible; his memory was comprehensive and faithful, while his mind teemed with the most luxuriant imagery, clothed in the most elegant language, and strengthened by the most applicable and brilliant expressions. It has been admitted, even by those who have most rigidly examined his pretensions to fame, that the splendour of his eloquence has seldom been excelled by the most accomplished orators or even poets of any age or country. From the depths of science, from the labours of art, the long track of history, the flights of poetry, the passing moment,' as well as that which is gone for ever, he collected, or rather commanded the most apt, varied, and beautiful imagery to support and decorate his elocution; and such was the extent of his powers and the facility with which he could muster up his forces, that in the very tumult of his eloquence, they presented themselves to his mind, to aid, to strengthen, and to carry the cause he supported. The harmony of his periods, and the accuracy of his expressions, even in his most unpremeditated speeches, were among the least of the oratorical distinctions of this wonderful man. In the most rapid of his flights, when the torrent of his eloquence could scarcely keep pace with his thoughts, and the hearer with difficulty attend him in his course, he never failed to seize the most choice and felicitous expressions that are to be found in the treasury of our language. His mind was an emporium of knowledge, and the communication of his stores was elegant, graceful, and attractive. In the House of Commons, his details were interesting, important, and correct—his arguments forcible, replete with information, and never supported by designed misrepresentation to answer the purposes of debate. His knowledge of parliamentary business was so vast and multifarious, that every matter brought into discussion, whether politics, jurisprudence, finance, commerce, manufactures, or internal police, with all their divisions, subdivisions, and ramifications, were treated by him in such a manner, as to induce those who heard him to imagine that he had dedicated his life to the investigation of that particular subject. In conclusion of this brief sketch of this extraordinary man, it would be in

justice to pass over his occasional displays of the most pure morals, or to omit the acknowledgment that his speeches seldom failed to possess a strong tincture of the most amiable philosophy.

Sheridan, the wit, the poet, the dramatist, and the orator, but the drunkard, the gamester, and the rake, was also the personal friend of the Prince of Wales. To the talents of Sheridan as an orator, the tributes of admiration and applause have been as numerous as they have been just. Of one of his celebrated speeches, made before the Lords, on the impeachment of Governor Hastings, in June, 1788, Mr. Burke thus exclaimed: He has this day surprised the thousands who hung with rapture on his accents, by such an array of talents, such an exhibition of capacity, such a display of powers, as are unparalleled in the annals of oratory; a display that reflected the highest honour upon himself-lustre upon letters-renown upon Parliament-glory upon the country. Of all species of rhetoric, of every kind of eloquence that has been witnessed or recorded, either in ancient or modern times; whatever the acuteness of the bar, the dignity of the senate, the solidity of the judgment-seat, and the sacred morality of the pulpit, have hitherto furnished, nothing has equalled what we have this day heard in Westminster Hall. No holy seer of religion, no sage, no statesman, no orator, no man of any literary description whatever, has come up, in the one instance, to the pure sentiments of morality; or in the other, to that variety of knowledge, force of imagination, propriety and vivacity of allusion, beauty and elegance of diction, strength and copiousness of style, pathos and sublimity of conception, to which we have this day listened with ardour and admiration. From poetry up to eloquence, there is not a species of composition of which a complete and perfect specimen might not, from that single speech, be culled and collected.' And yet Sheridan as a moralist was as defective in principle as he was incorrect in practice. Sheridan, poor, deserted, diseased, and wretched, expired in loneliness and misery; and so died, not purely, as has been alleged, a martyr to his love of liberty, but rather to his vices and licentiousness. An acquaintance, therefore, with Sheridan, whilst it could not fail of improving the judgment,