ment, on that astonishing and most dangerous
case ; that our ministers, in the fair succession of
them which we have had, of all parties and
opinions, should daily hear this relation, without
even inquiring into the grounds of it, and believe
it, without guarding against it by any provision, or
without making a single remonstrance on these
acts of treacherous hostility, either by our minister
in France, or to their minister in London, is sure
not only altogether unaccountable, but so very
criminal, that they may justly expect to answer by
their heads for their negligence.
But if such a plot and rebellion had no real
existence, that all the king's Roman Catholic
6 It is clear from this expression that, though Sir Richard
Aston's letter had been written in 1762, this fragment, rela-
ting to the same subject, could not have been composed till
about 1768 or 69.
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 43
subjects throughout Ireland should have been
calumniated, persecuted, and variously harassed
in the most piteous manner on this account ; that
numbers of them should have been ruined in
their fortunes, imprisoned, tried, and many even
capitally executed for it ; is surely a procedure
altogether as unaccountable, and in those who
administer our affairs, in my humble opinion, full
as criminal.
If the former case be true, what must we think
of the wisdom and policy of this country, who
could suffer such foreign war in its bowels, without
resenting or even taking notice of it, to the power
which has raised it? If the latter, what must
we think of its humanity and justice ? Either
there was such a rebellion, or there was not. If
there was, why is not the nation's quiet secured,
and its independence asserted ? If not, why have
we endeavoured to raise and justify rebellion,
by driving an innocent people to madness and
despair? and, by every inducement, inviting the
attempts of rival powers, by proclaiming to the
world that we have a party within us which is
so affectionate to their cause, so active in their
favour ; and by our conduct endeavouring to
verify our charges, and to drive our subjects to be
our enemies, whether they will or not ?
Surely, surely, this is a serious matter ; and, in
every light, deeply interesting to this country. I
44 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
think so, for one ; and as I have had means and
desire of informing myself to the bottom, I will
set down what I know upon that matter.
In the year 1760, J. Fant, a Protestant and an
attorney-at-law, lived on the borders of the county
of Cork ; a fair practitioner, a good-natured man,
and was well-enough liked by his acquaintance
of all denominations, whilst his understanding
remained entire. But, becoming disordered in
his senses, the man grew visionary, restless, and
unquiet ; entered into a number of disputes and
quarrels with his neighbours, and particularly
with Mr. Oliver, member of parliament for Kil-
mallock. His frenzy increasing daily, he under-
took journeys to Dublin, where he accused this
Mr. Oliver of several treasonable practices, and
particularly of having brought the Pretender, in
woman's clothes, and surrounded with a number
of papists, publicly to a horse-race. To this he
added a complaint of several oppressions of his
upon the poor inhabitants of Kilmallock. It
was a strange and absurd story. If every other
appearance had not indicated the madness of this
poor man, the family of Mr. Oliver made the
former charge utterly ridiculous ; and the humanity
of his disposition rendered the latter extremely
improbable. However, as government had nothing
to do with the affair, he and his accusation were
dismissed from the castle, with a due neglect.
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 45
Immediately on the arrival of the Earl of Halifax,
he renewed these charges, and complained of this
neglect. His new complaint was treated like all
his former; he returned to his county enraged
and disappointed ; and resolving to do, for him-
self, that justice which he in vain looked for from
government, he assembled at night many of
the meaner people of Kilmallock, and having
warmed them with liquor, he harangued on the
grievances which the poor in general suffered from
the oppression of the rich ; and telling them that
their town-common had been illegally inclosed,
and that they had a right, by law, to level the
walls by which they were shut out from it, they
very readily engaged under the authority of a
lawyer, and that night completely demolished all
the fences which inclosed their reputed common.
Whether this man, or the people of this town,
were guilty of further excesses, I know not ; never
having had a distinct account of his trial.
This, and no other beginning, had these dis-
turbances, which afterwards spread over a great
part of the adjacent county, and which have
been industriously represented of so treasonable a
nature.
46 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
EDMUND BURKE, ESQ. TO THE RIGHT HOX. WILLIAM
GERARD HAMILTON.
March, 1763.
DEAR SIR,
I am now on the point of acquiring, through your
friendship, an establishment 7 , which I am sensible
The establishment to which Burke here alludes, was a
pension of 300 per annum, from the Irish Treasury ; granted
in this year hy Lord Halifax, then lord lieutenant of Ireland,
upon the application of his Excellency's secretary, Hamilton,
and through the influence of Colonel Cunninghame and the
primate Stone. In those days such pensions were by no
means unusual, and were held, without imputation or blame,
by persons of station and character. Burke had been about
two years with secretary Hamilton in Ireland, when this pen-
sion was granted ; and he had during that time been actively
and, no doubt, usefully employed in the service of govern-
ment, though without any ostensible office or any salary. His
connexion with Hamilton, as has been mentioned in a former
note, had been of earlier date, beginning in 1759; and in
applying for the pension, Hamilton probably had reference to
the services which Burke had rendered him, prior to his
appointment as chief secretary in Ireland. Burke certainly
had all those services in his mind, when he wrote to Hamil-
ton, that the establishment would, through any other channel
than his, have been unexpected. But to Hamilton he had
given full value, and had a clear claim upon him for services
performed. That Hamilton had been accustomed to draw
largely upon his " friend and companion in his studies," (in
which words Burke describes the nature of their connexion,)
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 47
is as much above my merits as, in any other
channel, it may be above my reasonable expecta-
tions. I should think myself inexcusable in re-
ceiving this pension, and loading your interest
with so heavy a charge, without apprizing you of
those conditions on which, alone, I am able to
take it ; because, when I have taken it, I ought no
longer to consider myself as possessed of my former
freedom and independence.
I have often wished to explain myself fully to
is as evident from this letter, as that Burke wished to guard
against such unreasonable demands for the future. He there-
fore expressly stipulates for the use of his own time for
literary pursuits, and, without such reservation, declines
receiving the pension. An answer to this letter is not found
amongst Burke's papers. Probably Hamilton never gave one
in writing ; but it seems clear, by Burke's accepting the pen-
sion, that Hamilton acceded to the terms ; though, as will be
seen, he afterwards sought to violate them, and to appropriate
the whole of Burke's life to his service. Burke having ex-
postulated with him in vain, at length resigned the pension
into Hamilton's hands, through the medium of that gentle-
man's attorney, in April, 1765, having held it just two years ;
and from thence broke off all communication with him.
It is probable that the literary work to which Burke
alludes, as having in hand when he first attached himself
to Hamilton, was " An Essay towards an Abridgment of
English History," of which the commencement appears in the
tenth volume of the works. It was never finished. Burke
was also, at that time, engaged to write for Dodsley's Annual
Register.
48 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
you on this point. It is against my general no-
tions to trust to writing, where it is in one's
power to confer otherwise. But neither do you
hear, nor do I speak, on this subject, with the
same ease with which we converse on others.
This is but natural ; and I have therefore chosen
this method, as less liable to misunderstanding and
dispute ; and hope you will be so indulgent, as to
hear me with coolness and attention.
You may recollect, when you did me the honour
to take me as a companion in your studies, you
found me with the little work we spoke of last
Tuesday, as a sort of rent-charge on my thoughts.
I informed you of this, and you acquiesced in it.
You are now so generous, (and it is but strict
justice to allow, that upon all occasions you have
been so,) to offer to free me from this burthen.
But, in fact, though I am extremely desirous of
deferring the accomplishment, I have no notion
of entirely suppressing that work ; and this upon
two principles, not solely confined to that work,
but which extend much farther, and indeed to the
plan of my whole life.
Whatever advantages I have acquired, and even
that advantage which I must reckon as the great-
est and most pleasing of them, have been owing
to some small degree of literary reputation. It
will be hard to persuade me that any further ser-
vices which your kindness may propose for me, or
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 49
any in which my friends may wish to co-operate
with you, will not be greatly facilitated by doing
something to cultivate and keep alive the same
reputation. I am fully sensible, that this reputa-
tion may be at least as much hazarded, as for-
warded, by new publications. But because a cer-
tain oblivion is the consequence, to writers of my
inferior class, of an entire neglect of publication,
I consider it such a risk as sometimes must be
run. For this purpose, some short time, at con-
venient intervals, and especially at the dead time
of the year, will be requisite to study and consult
proper books. These times, as you very well
know, cannot be easily defined ; nor indeed is it
necessary they should. The matter may be very
easily settled by a good understanding between
ourselves ; and by a discreet liberty, which I think
you would not wish to restrain, nor I to abuse.
I am not so unreasonable, nor absurd enough, to
O *
think I have any title to so considerable a share
in your interest as I have had, and hope still to
have, without any or but an insignificant return
on my side ; especially as I am conscious that my
best and most continued endeavours are of no
very great value. I know that your business
ought, on all occasions, to have the preference ;
to be the first and the last, and, indeed, in all
respects, the main concern. All I contend for is,
that I may not be considered as absolutely ex-
VOL. I. E
50 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
eluded from all other thoughts, in their proper time
and due subordination ; the fixing the times for
them, to be left entirely to yourself.
I do not remember that, hitherto, any pursuit
has been stopped, or any plan left defective,
through my inattention, or through my attention
to other matters; and I protest to God, I have
applied to whatever you have thought proper to
set me, with a vigour and alacrity, and even an
eagerness, that I never felt in any affair of my
own whatsoever. If you have not observed this,
you have not, I think, observed with your usual
sagacity. But if you have observed it, and attri-
buted it to an interested design, which will cease
when its end is in any degree answered, my mind
bears me witness that you do not do me justice.
I act almost always from my present impulse, and
with little scheme or design ; and perhaps, gene-
rally, with too little. If you think what I have
proposed unreasonable, my request is that you
will, which you may very easily do, get my Lord
Halifax to postpone the pension, and afterwards
to drop it. We shall go on as before, until some
other more satisfactory matter occurs. For I should
ill brook an accusation, either direct or implied,
that I had through your friendship acquired a con-
siderable establishment, and afterwards neglected
to make any fair return in my power. The
thought of this has given me great pain ; and I
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 51
would not be easy without coming to some expla-
nation upon it. In the light I consider things,
it can create no great difficulty ; but it may pos-
sibly, to you, appear otherwise. Let this be how
it will, I can never forget the obligations the
very many and great obligations which I have
already had to you ; and which, in any situation,
will always give you a right to call on me for
any thing within my compass. If I do not often
acknowledge my sense of them, it is because I
know you are not very fond of professions, nor am
I very clever at making them. You will take in
good part this liberty; which, sincerely, is not
made for the purpose of exercising my pen im-
pertinently. Two words from you would settle
the point, one way or another.
I am, with the utmost truth, ever yours,
EDM. BURKE.
EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO RICHARD SHACKLETON.
Queen Anne Street, Cavendish Square,
April, 1763.
DEAR SHACKLETON,
I am yery unfeignedly glad to hear from you, and
much obliged to you, and your wife, for your kind
remembrance. As to your cloak, I do not care
how much of you it covers, provided I can see as
E 2
52 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
much of the face of my old friend, as his lank
testimonial hair (which needs the vanity of a
velvet cap to keep it out of his eyes) will permit.
You rejoice me very much with the prospect of
your coming to London this summer; but I should
be as well satisfied you stayed at home, if you will
not spend an hour with me at our court-end of
the town ; where you will find as much honesty,
and almost as much sincerity, as any where in the
city ; except in Grace-church street. Be assured,
I should think myself mad, if I took offence at
your religious discourses; they are full of real
piety. I love that you should speak that of which
your mind is full. If I cannot agree with you in
a point or two, we agree perfectly in twenty
others ; and a difference of opinion, and a quarrel,
between you and me, have never been the same
thing. I congratulate you sincerely on the addi-
tion to your family; and heartily thank you for
the friendly concern you take about the welfare of
mine. I have had no addition to it.
My wife insists that you let us know, as near
the time as possible, on what day you imagine
you may be in London ; and desires her affection-
ate regards to you and Mrs. Shackleton. Adieu !
dear Shackleton. Remember me to your father
and mother ; and believe me, to you and yours, a
most real and sincere friend,
EDM. BURKE.
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 53
I am heartily glad of the good account you gave
me of my friend Dennis ; and of my still holding
a place in his affections. Dick desires to be
remembered to his friends at Ballitore.
EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO RICHARD SHACKLETON.
Queen Anne Street, July 17, 1764.
MY DEAR SHACKLETON,
Many thanks to you for your kind letter; and
pray give as many, in our name, to your father for
his friendly visits ; which, though not near so fre-
quent as we wished, were yet more so than we
could have expected, considering the distance of
his situation, and the shortness of the time he had
to spend amongst us. In the act of kindness he
did not follow your example. Pray, do you follow
his ; and remember that if you come to this side
of the water, we have a fair claim to some part of
your time. You will find every one in this house
extremely glad to see you. Poor Dick, indeed, is
probably not for some years to expect that satis-
faction. He sets off at the beginning of next
week for the Grenadas 7 ; thank God, in good
7 Mr. Richard Burke obtained, at this time, an appointment
in the Customs, in the Island of Grenada, which he held for
some years.
54 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
health and spirits ; which are all but little enough
to battle with a bad climate, in a bad season. But
it must be submitted to. Providence never in-
tended, to much the greater part, an entire life
of ease and quiet. A peaceable, honourable, and
affluent decline of life, must be purchased by a
laborious or hazardous youth; and every day I
think, more and more, that it is well worth the
purchase. Poverty and age sort very ill together ;
and a course of struggling is miserable indeed,
when strength is decayed and hope gone. Turpe
senex miles. These thoughts are our comfort on a
separation, which, you will easily believe, is affect-
ing enough to us.
Dick desires to know how your spectacles an-
swer. If they are too deep, or not concave enough,
return them with your observation on the defect,
and you shall have others. The grand test of
their fitting you is your power of reading with
them at a distance. Jenny and all here (for all
this house knows you personally or by character)
are sincerely yours, and desire to be remembered
to Mrs. Shackleton, to whose friendship we have
many obligations, and for whose character we
have a real esteem.
Adieu ! Believe me most affectionately yours,
EDM. BURKE.
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 55
THE RIGHT HON. WM. G. HAMILTON, TO EDMUND
ESQ. 8
Sunday, half-past Twelve.
BURKE, ESQ. 8
DEAR SIR,
My servant has this moment informed me of your
kindness in calling upon me, for which I consider
myself as extremely obliged to you. I am per-
suaded you will do me the justice to believe, when
I assure you most sincerely and upon my honour,
that my wishing (independent of very particular
business) to decline the pleasure of seeing you
this morning, is founded upon reasons which,
though extremely mortifying to myself, are in no
way disrespectful to you. The lively sense I
entertain of your unkindness, and the very hum-
ble one I entertain of my own command of temper,
make me unwilling to hazard even a possibility
that any thing may pass between us, which would
endanger a friendship I have, for many reasons,
looked upon as so very valuable, and particularly
because I concluded it would be so very lasting.
I am apt to believe, that the disagreement be-
tween us is already sufficiently difficult, and I
should be sorry to make it impossible to be recon-
8 This, and the two following letters, were written, no
doubt, early in February, 1765.
56 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
ciled. Whenever any thing occurs, on which I
may wish to have the pleasure of conversing with
you, I shall so far presume upon the indulgence
you are pleased to allow me, as to take the liberty
of troubling you.
I am, dear Sir,
Your most obedient and faithful
humble Servant,
WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON.
EDMUND BURKE, ESQ., TO THE RIGHT HON.
WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON.
DEAR SIR,
Your letter, which I received about four o'clock
yesterday, seemed not to have been written with
an intention of being answered. However, on
considering the matter this morning, I thought
it respectful to you, and, in a manner, necessary
to myself, to say something to those heavy charges
which you have made against me in our last con-
versations ; and which, with a polite acrimony in
the expression, you have thought proper to repeat
in your letter.
I should, indeed, be extremely unhappy, if I
felt any consciousness at all of that unkindness,
of which you have so lively a sense. In the six
years during which I have had the honour of being
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 57
connected with you, I do not know that I have
given you one just occasion of complaint ; and if
all things have not succeeded every way to your
wishes, I may appeal to your own equity and
candour, whether the failure was owing to any
thing wrong in my advice, or inattention in my
conduct ; I can honestly affirm, and your heart
will not contradict me, that in all cases I preferred
your interest to my own. I made you, and not
myself, the first object in every deliberation. I
studied your advancement, your fortune, and your
reputation in every thing, with zeal and earnest-
ness ; and sometimes with an anxiety, which has
made many of my hours miserable. Nobody
could be more ready, than I was, to acknowledge
the obligations I had to you ; and if I thought, as
in some instances I did, and do still think, I had
cause of dissatisfaction, I never expressed it to
others, or made yourself uneasy about them. I
acted, in every respect, with a fidelity which, I
trust, cannot be impeached. If there be any part
of my conduct in life, upon which I can look with
entire satisfaction, it is my behaviour with regard
to you.
So far as to the past : with regard to the pre-
sent, what is that unkindness and misbehaviour of
which you complain ? My heart is full of friend-
ship to you ; and is there a single point which the
best and most intelligent men have fixed, as a
58 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
proof of friendship and gratitude, in which I have
been deficient, or in which I threaten a failure ?
What you blame is only this ; that I will not con-
sent to bind myself to you, for no less a term
than my whole life, in a sort of domestic situation,
for a consideration to be taken out of your private
fortune ; that is, to circumscribe my hopes, to
give up even the possibility of liberty, and abso-
lutely to annihilate myself for ever. I beseech
you, is the demand, or the refusal, the act of
unkindness ? If ever such a test of friendship
was proposed, in any instance, to any man living,
I admit that my conduct has been unkind; and,
if you please, ungrateful.
If I had accepted your kind offers, and after-
wards refused to abide by the condition you annex
to them, you then would have had a good right to
tax me with unkindness. But what have I done,
at the end of a very long, however I confess
unprofitable, service, but to prefer my own liberty
to the offers of advantage you are pleased to
make me ; and, at the same time, to tender you
the continuance of those services (upon which,
partiality alone induces you to set any value) in
the most disinterested manner, as far as I can
do it, consistent with that freedom to which, for
a long time, I have determined to sacrifice every
consideration; and which I never gave you the
slightest assurance that I had any intention to
RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE. 59
surrender ; whatever my private resolves may
have been in case an event had happened, which
(so far as concerns myself) I rejoice never to have
taken place? You are kind enough to say, that
you looked upon my friendship as valuable ; but
hint that it has not been lasting. I really do not
know when, and by what act, I broke it off. I
should be wicked and mad to do it ; unless you
call that a lasting friendship, which all mankind
would call a settled servitude, and which no
ingenuity can distinguish from it. Once more, put
yourself in my situation, and judge for me. If I
have spoken too strongly, you will be so good to
pardon a mau on his defence, in one of the nicest
questions to a mind that has any feeling. I
meant to speak fully, not to offend. I am not
used to defend my conduct ; nor do I intend, for
the future, to fall into so bad a habit. I have
been warmed to it by the imputation you threw
on me ; as if I deserted you on account solely of
your want of success. On this, however, I shall
say nothing, because perhaps I should grow still
wanner ; and I would not drop one loose word
which might mark the least disrespect, and hurt
a friendship which has been, and I flatter myself
will be, a satisfaction and an honour to me. I
beseech you that you will judge of me with a little
impartiality and temper. I hope I have said
60 CORRESPONDENCE OF THE
nothing in our last interview which could urge
you to the passion you speak of. If any thing
fell which was strong in the expression, I believe
it was from you, and not from me, and it is right
that I should bear more than I then heard. I said
nothing, but what I took the liberty of mention-
ing to you a year ago, in Dublin : I gave you no
reason to think I had made any change in my
resolution. We, notwithstanding, have ever since,
until within these few days, proceeded as usual.
Permit me to do so again. No man living can
have a higher veneration than I have, for your
abilities ; or can set a higher value on your friend-