the herd of obscure writers, who, from the first outbreak of French violence, had virulently aspersed the Church and King of England. It was among the ignorant, jealous, and envenomed brood, lingering on the confines of Christianity and infidelity, that the atrocities of the French Revolution found their most pertinacious defenders. The great body of the British people had rejected and loathed it, from the moment when it began to be stained with blood. But the new illuminate only loved it the more; identified themselves with its progress at every fresh iniquity; clung to every sanguinary rag that fluttered round its frame; and boasting themselves the elect of religion and freedom, proclaimed day and night the praises of a tyranny that denounced the immortality of the soul, that worshipped a drunken profligate from the streets, and that realized its doctrines of equality, by plundering all alike, and sending the plundered to the promiscuous scaffold.

CHAPTER XIII.

Debate on the Army Estimates-Burke's Schism with Fox-and with Sheridan-Publication of the celebrated "Reflections"— Public honours to its Writer-Visit of Paine to England-Pitt's Views of the Revolution.

THE debate on the Army Estimates, (5th and 9th February, 1790,) gave the first decided evidence of the fallen spirit which had entered into the councils of Opposition. In the debate of the 5th, Fox, after a long panegyric on the glories of subversion, had the hardihood to pronounce a direct eulogium on the revolt of the French Guards. He was met by the natural result—a storm of reprobation from the insulted feelings of the House. In the debate of the 9th, Burke spoke, first adverting to the danger of such opinions coming from the authority of such a name. Then entering at large into the question of Democracy, he delivered those immortal sentiments which were to be the sounding of a trumpet to all the generous sympathies of England. While the House was suspended in admiration of the magnificent enthusiasm with which he imagined the grandeur and security of a Revolution founded, like that of 1688, on the true rights of human nature; he suddenly turned to its vio

lent contrast in the tumults and crimes of French liberty. He declared that he had never loved despotism in any land; he had not loved it the more for its being in France. But there was a despotism more dreadful than ever was wielded by the monarch of any civilized people; and "that was the despotism of a plundering, ferocious, bloody, tyrannical democracy, democracy without a single virtue of republicanism to redeem its crimes. This was so far from being worthy of imitation, as had been said by his honourable friend, that it was worthy of all abhorrence; that he would spend his last breath, the last drop of his blood, 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 by the great majority of the House. Pitt himself was among the loudest in its praise. He said, that "former differences could not preclude him from giving his highest admiration, and expressing his strongest feelings of gratitude and reverence for the speaker of those sentiments; sentiments which would be received with the greatest esteem by his country, and which would give down his name to posterity with the most distinguished respect and honour."

In this memorable debate, from which is to be dated the final schism of the Whigs, Fox half redeemed his original error by the temperance with which he bore his rebuke. The question had evidently come to the point of individual feelings, and his reply chiefly adverted to the position which Burke had individually

taken. His speech was almost a panegyric. He declared," that he had ever entertained the highest veneration for the judgment of his honourable friend; by whom he had been instructed more than by all other men and books together; by whom he had been taught to love our Constitution; from whom he had acquired nearly all his political knowledge, all, certainly, which was most essential, and which he most valued. His speech on that day, some arguments and observations excepted, was one of the wisest and most brilliant flights of oratory ever delivered in that House; still, with all those admissions, his opinions on the general subject continued the same." Burke accepted of those civilities in a few polite expressions; and it has been the opinion of writers on this period, that all might have been reconciled once more, but for the petulance of Sheridan. But this opinion seems to be grounded rather on the habits of private life than of party. The open quarrels of public men are indications less of personal resentment than of divided views. It was im.. possible that Burke and Fox, after this full announcement of their opinions, could ever cordially agree in their parliamentary course. The separation was already complete. Sheridan's haste and heat only hurried the overt act. He had fancied, or real, motives for hostility. His ambition was thwarted by the high respect paid to Burke by all the graver and more influential heads of the party. The habits, too, of a man like Burke, virtuous and dignified, were silent reproaches to the loose morals, notorious profusion, and Bb

VOL. I.

negligent principles of Sheridan. On this occasion he used his strongest epithets to fan the sunken fires of debate, charged Burke with “deserting from the camp, with assaulting the principles of freedom itself; with defending despotism; and with loving to obtrude himself as the libeller of liberty abroad." Burke rose, less irritated than indignant, and loftily expressed his distaste for "language which ought to have been spared, were it only as a sacrifice to the ghost of departed friendship; though the language itself was not new to him, it was but a repetition of what was to be perpetually heard at the reforming clubs and societies with which the honourable gentleman had lately become entangled, and for whose plaudits he had chosen to sacrifice his friends, though he might in time find that the value of such praise was not worth the price at which it was purchased. Henceforward, they were separated in politics for ever."

The schism with Sheridan was, of course, beyond all cure. But the obvious consequences of public dissension to the interests of the party so forcibly struck the minds of its principal members, that active means were tried to reconcile two individuals of such importance; and among those was a meeting at Burlington House, at which the Duke of Portland, Fox, Burke, and others of consideration, were present. The discussion continued from ten at night until three in the morning, with a remarkable display of ability on both sides, and closed, as might have been predicted, without satisfying either. The verdict, however, was so