has been said by a critic with whom it is a pleasure for
once in a way to agree, that he knew how the whole world lived.

"It was Burke's peculiarity and his glory to apply the
imagination of a poet of the first order to the facts and
business of life.... Burke's imagination led him to look over the
whole land: the legislator devising new laws, the judge
expounding and enforcing old ones, the merchant despatching all
his goods and extending his credit, the banker advancing the
money of his customers upon the credit of the merchant, the
frugal man slowly accumulating the store which is to support him
in old age, the ancient institutions of Church and University
with their seemly provisions for sound learning and true
religion, the parson in his pulpit, the poet pondering his
rhymes, the farmer eyeing his crops, the painter covering his
canvases, the player educating the feelings. Burke saw all this
with the fancy of a poet, and dwelt on it with the eye of a
lover."

Now all this, which is true of Burke, is true of the very first
literary artists--of Shakespeare and Balzac. All this, and more--for
they not only see all this immense activity of life, but the emotions
that animate each of the myriad actors.

Suppose them to treat of commerce: they see not only the goods and
money changing hands, but the ambitions, dangers, fears, delights, the
fierce adventures by desert and seas, the slow toil at home, upon
which the foundations of commerce are set. Like the Gods,

"They see the ferry
On the broad, clay-laden
Lone Chorasmian stream;--thereon,
With snort and strain,
Two horses, strongly swimming, tow
The ferry-boat, with woven ropes
To either bow
Firm-harness'd by the mane; a chief,
With shout and shaken spear,
Stands at the prow, and guides them; but astern
The cowering merchants, in long robes,
Sit pale beside their wealth...."

Like the Gods, they see all this; but, unlike the Gods, they must feel
also:--

"They see the merchants
On the Oxus stream;--_but care
Must visit first them too, and make them pale_.
Whether, through whirling sand,
A cloud of desert robber-horse have burst
Upon their caravan; or greedy kings,
In the wall'd cities the way passes through,
Crush'd them with tolls; or fever-airs,
On some great river's marge,