humouredly, in allusion to the repetitions of this fact, "if our friend Mund should die in any of these hazardous exploits, you and I would write his life and panegyric together; and your chapter of it should be entitled thus, Burke in a bag.'

These two remarkable men were perhaps the only persons of their age, who in acquirements or in original powers of mind could be compared with each other; they had been at first fellowlabourers in the literary vineyard; they had each ultimately risen to the highest eminence in different spheres; they preserved at all times sincere esteem for each other; and were rivals only in gaining the admiration of their country. From the first, Burke seems to have possessed a strong ambition of rising in public life far above the range accessible to mere literature, or even to a profession, though that profession was the law. Johnson's views had never extended beyond simple independence and literary fame. The one desired to govern men, the other to become the monarch of their books; the one dived deeply into their political rights, the other into the matter of next importance among all nations-their authors, language, and letters. As a curious physical coincidence, it may be remarked, that both were near-sighted.

A strong cast of originality, yet with few points of resemblance, distinguish not only their thoughts, but almost their modes of thinking, and each has had the merit of founding a style of his own, which it is difficult to imitate. Johnson, seemingly born a logician, impresses truth on the mind with a scholastic, methodical, though commonly irresistible effect. More careless of arrangement, yet with not less power, Burke assumes a more popular manner, giving to his views more ingenuity, more novelty, and on the whole, more variety. The reasoning of the former is marshalled with the exactness of a heraldic procession, or the rank and file of an army, one in the rear of the other according to their importance or power of producing effect. The latter, disregarding such precise discipline, makes up in the incessant and unexpected nature of his assaults, what he wants in more formal array; we can anticipate Johnson's mode of attack, but not Burke's, for, careless of the order of battle of the schools, he charges at once front, flanks, and rear; and his unwearied perseverance in returning to the combat on every accessible point, pretty commonly insures him the victory. The former argued like an academical teacher; the latter like what he was and what nature had intended him for-an orator. The labours of the former were addressed to the closet; of the latter, most frequently to a popular assembly; and each chose the mode best calculated for his purpose.

Both were remarkable for subtlety and vigour of reasoning whenever the occasion required them. In copiousness and

variety of language, adapted to every subject and to every capacity, Burke is generally admitted to possess the advantage; in style he has less stiffness, less mannerism, less seeming labour, and scarcely any affectation; in perspicuity they are both admirable. Johnson had on the whole more erudition; Burke, inexhaustible powers of imagination. Johnson possessed a pungent, caustic wit; Burke, a more playful, sarcastic humour; in the exercise of which both were occasionally coarse enough. Johnson, had his original pursuits inclined that way, would have made no ordinary politician; Burke was confessedly a master in the science; in the philosophy of it he is the first in the English language, or perhaps in any other; and in the practice of it, during the long period of his public career, was second to none. Added to these were his splendid oratorical powers, to which Johnson had no pretension. With a latent hankering after abstractions, the one in logical, the other in metaphysical subtleties, both had the good sense utterly to discard them when treating of the practical business of men.

They were distinguished for possessing a very large share of general knowledge, accurate views of life, for social and conversational powers instructive in no common degree--and in the instance of Johnson never excelled. They understood the heart of man and his springs of action perfectly, from their constant intercourse with every class of society. Conscientious and moral in private life, both were zealous in guarding from danger the established religion of their country; and in the case of Burke, with the utmost liberality to every class of dissenters. Johnson's censures and aversions, even on trifling occasions, were sometimes marked by rudeness and ferocity; Burke, with more amenity of manners and regard to the forms of society, rarely permitted his natural ardour of feeling to hurry him into coarseness in private life; and on public occasions only where great interests were at stake, and where delicacy was neither necessary nor deserved.

Viewed in every light, both were men of vast powers of mind, such as are rarely seen, from whom no species of learning was hidden, and to whom scarcely any natural gift had been denied ; who had grasped at all knowledge with avaricious eagerness, and had proved themselves not less able to acquire than qualified to use this intellectual wealth. None were more liberal in communicating it to others, without that affectation of superiority, in Burke at least, which renders the acquisitions of pedants oppressive, and their intercourse repulsive. Whether learning, life, manners, politics, books or men was the subjectwhether wisdom was to be taught at once by precept and example, or recreation promoted by amusing and instructive conversation-they were all to be enjoyed in the evening societies of these celebrated friends.

A dissolution of parliament occurring in autumn, and a disagreement with Lord Verney rendering his return for Wendover unlikely, the Marquis of Rockingham offered Mr. Burke his interest in Malton, whither he proceeded and was elected.

While expressing his acknowledgments for this favour, and on the point of sitting down to dinner, a deputation from the merchants of Bristol, who had travelled rapidly to London, and from London to Yorkshire, in search of him, arrived to propose his becoming a candidate for their city, or rather to ask him to accede to his nomination, which had been already made by the leading men there. This, to one who had shown less regard to popularity than prudence demanded, was an unexpected honour. The tender, however, was too handsome to be refused; it was an offering solely to his public merits and commercial knowledge, and the favour was enhanced by the promise of being returned free of expense, an essential consideration to a man of his confined fortune.

Obtaining the ready assent of his Malton friends to this change of destination, he set off at six o'clock in the evening of Tuesday, and travelling night and day, arrived about halfpast two on Thursday, the thirteenth of October, and the sixth day of the poll, a distance then of about 350 miles. He drove instantly to the house of the Mayor, but not finding him at home, proceeded to the Guildhall, where, ascending the hustings, and saluting the electors, sheriffs, and the other candidates, he reposed for a few minutes, being utterly exhausted by fatigue and want of sleep, and then addressed the citizens in a speech which met with great and general approbation.

After a contest protracted to the last moment, he was returned on the third of November. In a powerful address of thanks, delivered on the occasion, he exhibited what many thought too rigid a degree of independence on being pressed as to whether he meant to vote in Parliament according to his own opinion, or to the wishes of his constituents. The question at such a moment was vexatious enough, for a negative might imply on his part something like ingratitude; but being above all evasion or temporizing, he respectfully, though firmly, claimed the privilege at all times of following the dictates of his own conscience. His reasons, among the more reflecting class of politicians, have set the question for ever at rest; no one has thought it necessary to add to them, or prudent to answer them; though he complained at the moment of want of time and preparation for the discussion. "I am sorry I cannot conclude without saying a word on a topic touched upon by my worthy colleague. I wish that topic had been passed by, at a time when I have so little leisure to discuss it. But since he has thought proper to throw it out, I owe you a clear explanation of my poor sentiments on that subject.

"He tells you that the topic of instructions has occasioned much altercation and uneasiness in this city;' and he expresses himself, if I understand him rightly, in favour of the coercive authority of such instructions.

"Certainly, gentlemen, it ought to be the happiness and glory of a representative, to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion high respect; their business unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions to theirs; and above all, ever and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your representative owes you not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.

"My worthy colleague says, his will ought to be subservient to yours. If that be all, the thing is innocent. If government were a matter of will upon any side, yours without question ought to be superior. But government and legislation are matters of reason and judgment, and not of inclination; and what sort of reason is that in which the determination precedes the discussion; in which one set of men deliberate and another decide; and where those who form the conclusion are perhaps three hundred miles distant from those who hear the arguments?

"To deliver an opinion is the right of all men; that of constituents is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a representative ought always to rejoice to hear; and which he ought always most seriously to consider. But authoritative instructions; mandates issued which the member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to argue for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgment and conscience; these are things utterly unknown to the laws of this land, and which arise from a fundamental mistake of the whole order and tenour of our constitution.

"Parliament is not a congress of ambassadors from different states and with hostile interests; which interests each must maintain as an agent and advocate against other agents and advocates; but Parliament is a deliberative assembly of one nation with one interest, that of the whole; where not local purposes, not local prejudices, ought to guide, but the general good, resulting from the general reason of the whole. You choose a member indeed; but when you have chosen him, he is not member of Bristol, but he is a member of Parliament. If the local constituent should have an interest, or should form a hasty opinion, evidently opposite

to the real good of the rest of the community, the member for that place ought to be as far as any other from any endeavour to give it effect."

On another occasion (1780), he told them-"I did not obey your instructions: No. I conformed to the instructions of truth and nature, and maintained your interest, against your opinions, with a constancy that became me. A representative worthy of you ought to be a person of stability. I am to look indeed to your opinions; but to such opinions as you and I must look to five years hence. I was not to look at the flash of the day. I knew that you chose me, in my place, along with others, to be a pillar of the state, and not a weather-cock on the top of the edifice, exalted for my levity and versatility, and of no use but to indicate the shiftings of every popular gale.'

These speeches being circulated through the country, an unusual thing with election speeches of that day, met with general applause.

A ludicrous anecdote is recorded of his brother candidate, Mr. Cruger, a merchant chiefly concerned in the American trade, who, at the conclusion of one of Mr. Burke's eloquent harangues, finding nothing to add, or perhaps as he thought to add with effect, exclaimed earnestly in the language of the counting-house, " I say ditto to Mr. Burke-I say ditto to Mr. Burke." With such an example before him, however, he must have improved materially in the art of delivering his sentiments in public, for in the succeeding session he spoke on American business several times with sufficient spirit.

CHAPTER VI.

Parliamentary Business.-Speech on American Conciliation.-Anecdotes of Drs, Franklin, Priestley, and Mr. Hartley.-Round Robin on Goldsmith's Epitaph.Epitaph on Mr. Dowdeswell.- Use of a good Speech in Parliament.-Letters to the Sheriffs and two gentlemen of Bristol.-To Lord Charlemont, Barry, Mr. Francis, Mr. Fox, Dr. Robertson-Speeches on the Address and Employment of the Indians.-Statue proposed in Dublin.-Admiral Keppel.-Letter to Sir William Jones.

It was the common lot of Mr. Burke, during much of his political life, to see fulfilled in the recess the predictions he had made during the preceding session. So was it with the scheme for shutting up the port of Boston, which more than realized his worst anticipations, by giving birth to that concentration of the most turbulent spirits of the colonies into a congress, where almost at their first meeting, and wholly unknown to their constituents, was laid the plan of total separation from the mothercountry.