om you can place confidence for their _future
temperate_ and persevering proceeding, that you will then, with a
_cool_ and _steady dignity_, take your leave." So ended the attempt of
this man of genius and sensibility to guide an Irish faction in the
paths of public tranquillity. He had forgotten that clamour was their
livelihood, and grievance their stock in trade. In the simplicity of a
noble spirit, he had eloquently implored quacks to take their degrees
and follow practice, and solemnly advised travelling showmen not to
disturb the public ear by the braying of their cracked trumpets, and
he succeeded accordingly. Great as he unquestionably was, he could not
make bricks without straw; and after wondering at the perversity of
fortune, and lavishing his indignant soul on a hundred splendid
perplexities touching the nature of politicians in general, and of
Irish politicians in particular, he gave up Ireland as a problem too
profound for his analysis, and to be postponed till the discovery of
the philosopher's stone.

Richard remained in Ireland for a few months, until he saw the Romish
petition thrown out in the House of Commons by an immense majority. He
then returned to London, and with the rather forward air of an
accredited minister, applied for an interview with the ministry. He
was answered by a prompt note from Dundas, sarcastically informing him
that there was a viceroy in Ireland, whom his Majesty's government had
sent there for the purpose of transacting public business; that they
considered him a very proper person for the purpose, and that, in
consequence, they saw no positive necessity for managing Irish affairs
through any other. "If," says this quiet rebuff, "any of his Majesty's
Catholic subjects have any request or representation which they wish
to lay before his Majesty, they cannot be at a loss for the means of
doing so, in a manner _much_ more _proper_ and AUTHENTIC, than through
the channel of private conversation. Having stated this to you, I
shall forbear _making any observations on the contents_ of your
letter."

On the 2d of August, 1794, his favourite son died, and Burke received
the blow with the feelings of one, who regarded the hand of destiny as
uplifted against him. His excessive sensibility was agonized by an
event melancholy in its nature to all, but which a wise man will
regard as the will of the Great Disposer, and a religious man will
believe to be a chastisement in mercy.

Burke