THE 
 
 TjEadees of public opinion 
 
 IX 
 
 lEELAND : 
 
 SWIFT- riOOD -G RATTAN-O'CONNELL 
 
 BT 
 
 WILLIAJI EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY, M.A. 
 
 * The brc«th of Liberty, like the uord of tho holy man, will not 
 die with the prophet, but will survive him.'— Geattas. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 
 54 9 k 55 1 BROADWAY. 
 
 18:0. 
 
TV? 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 JONATHAN SWIFT . . , .1 
 
 HENRY FLOOD G3 
 
 HENRY GRATTAN .,.-.. 104 
 
 DANIFJj O'CONNELL ... , . 223 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In eepublishing the following sketches, which first 
 appeared anonymously many years ago, I am yielding 
 in part to the request of many friends in Ireland and 
 elsewhere who have been good enough to regret the dif- 
 ficulty of procuring them ; and in part also to a feeling 
 tliat at the present moment their appearance might not 
 be wholly useless or inopportune. At a time when the 
 Kepeal movement which was suspended by the famine 
 is manifestly reviving; when the establishment of reli- 
 gious equality has removed the old lines of party con- 
 troversy, and prepared tlie way for new combinations ; 
 wlien security of tenure, increased material prosperity, 
 the spread of education, and the approaching triumph 
 of tlie ballot, have given a new weight and indepen- 
 dence to tlic masses of the people ; and when, at tbe 
 same time, a disloyalty in some respects of a more 
 malignant type than tliat of any former period has 
 widely permeated their ranks, it is surely not unadvis- 
 able to recall the leading fticts of the great struggle of 
 Irish nationality. The present of a nation can only 
 bo explained by its past ; and in dealing with strong 
 sentiments of disloyalty and discontenjt, it is of the 
 
Viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 utmost importance to trace the historical causes to 
 which they may be due. 
 
 There are no errors in politics more common or 
 more fatal than the political pedantry which esti- 
 mates institutions exclusively by their abstract merits, 
 without any regard to tlie special circumstances, 
 wishes, or cliaracters of the nations for which they 
 are intended, and the political materialism which 
 refuses to recognise any of what are called senti- 
 mental grievances. Political institutions are essen- 
 tially organic things, and tiieir success depends, not 
 merely on their intrinsic excellence, but also on the 
 degree in which they harmonise >vith the traditions 
 and convictions, and take root in the affections of the 
 people. Every statesman wlio is worthy of the name 
 will carefully calculate the effect of his measures upon 
 opinion, will esteem the creation of a strong, healthy, 
 and loyal public spirit one of the highest objects of 
 legislation, and will look upon the diseases of public 
 opinion as among the greatest evils of the State. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no government in the world which 
 succeeds more admirably in the functions of eliciting, 
 sustaining, and directing public opinion than that of 
 England. It does not, it is true, escape its full share 
 of hostile criticism, and, indeed, rather signally illus- 
 trates the saying of Bacon, tliat 'the best governments 
 arc always subject to be like the finest crystals, in 
 wliich every icicle and grain is seen which in a fouler 
 stone is never perceived ;' but whatever charges may 
 be brouglit against the balance of its powers, or against 
 its legislative efficiency, few men "will question its 
 eminent success as an organ of public opinion. In 
 England an "even disproportionate amount of the 
 
INTRODUCTION. ix 
 
 national talent takes the direction of politics. The 
 pulse of an energetic national life is felt in every quarter 
 of the land. The debates of Parliament are followed 
 with a warm, constant, and intelligent interest by all 
 sections of tlie community. It draws all classes within 
 the circle of political interests, and is the centre of a 
 strong and steady patriotism equally removed from llie 
 apathy of many continental nations in time of calm, 
 and from their feverish and spasmodic energy in time 
 of excitement. Its decisions, if not instantly accepted, 
 never fail to have a profound and a calming influence on 
 the public mind. It is the safety-valve of the nation. 
 The discontents, the suspicious, the peccant humours 
 that agitate the people find there their vent, their reso- 
 lution, and their end. 
 
 It is impossible, I think, not to be struck by the 
 contrast which in this respect Ireland presents to Eng- 
 land. If the one country furnishes us with an admir- 
 able example of the action of a liealthy public opinion, 
 tlie other supplies us with the most unequivocal signs 
 of its disease. The Imperial Parliament exercises for 
 Ireland legislative functions, but it is almost powerless 
 upon opinion — it allays no discontent, and attracts no 
 affection. Political talent, whicli for many years was 
 at least as abundant among Irishmen as in any equally 
 numerous section of the people, has been steadily de- 
 clining ; and the marked decadence in this respect 
 among the representatives of the nation reflects but 
 too truly the absence of public spirit in their consti- 
 tuents. The upper classes liave lost their sympatliy 
 with and their moral ascendency over their tenants^ 
 and are thrown for the most part into a policy of mere 
 obstruction. Tlie genuine national enthusiasm never 
 
X IKTRODUCTION. 
 
 flows in the channel of imperial politics. With great 
 multitudes sectarian considerations have entirely super- 
 seded national ones, and tlieir representatives are ac- 
 customed systematically to subordinate all party and 
 all political questions to ecclesiastical interests ; and 
 while calling tliemselves Liberals, they make it the main 
 object of their home politics to separate the different 
 classes of their fellow-countrymen during the period of 
 their education, and the main object of their foreign 
 policy to support the temporal power of the Pope. 
 With another and a still larger class the prevailing 
 feeling seems to be an indifference to all Parliamentary 
 proceedings ; an utter scepticism about constitutional 
 means of realising their ends ; a blind, persistent hatred 
 of Eugland. Every cause is taken up with an enthu- 
 siasm exactly proportioned to the degree in which it is 
 supposed to be injurious to English interests. An 
 amount of energy and enthusiasm which if rightly 
 directed would suffice for the political regeneration of 
 Ireland is wasted in the most insane projects of dis- 
 loyalty ; while the diversion of so mucli public feeling 
 from Parliamentary politics leaves the Parliamentary 
 arena more and more open to corruption, to place- 
 hunting, and to imposture. 
 
 This picture is in itself a very melancholy one, but 
 there are other circumstances which greatly heighten 
 the effect. In a very ignorant or a very wretched 
 population it is natural that there should be much 
 vague, unreasoning discontent ; but the Irish people 
 are at present neither wretched nor ignorant. Their 
 economical condition before the famine was indeed such 
 that it might well have made reasonable men despair. 
 With the land divided into almost microscopic farms, 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 with a population multiplying rapidly to the extreme 
 limits of subsistence, accustomed to the very lowest 
 standard of comfort, and marrying earlier than in any 
 other northern country in Europe, it was idle to look 
 for habits of independence or self-reliance, or for the 
 culture which follows in the train of leisure and com- 
 fort. But all this has been changed. A fearful famine 
 and the long-continued strain of emigration have re- 
 duced the nation from eight millions to less than five, 
 and have effected, at the price of almost intolerable 
 suffering, a complete economical revolution. The popu- 
 lation is now in no degree in excess of the means 
 of subsistence. The rise of v/ages and prices has 
 diffused comfort through all classes. The greater 
 part of Ireland has been changing from arable into 
 pasture land, for which it is pre-eminently fitted; and 
 this most important transformation, which almost con- 
 vulsed English society in the sixteenth century, and 
 elicited the bitterest lamentations from Bacon and 
 More, has been of late years effected in 'Ireland upon 
 a still larger scale without producing any considerable 
 sufferin<T^. It is following in the train of a natural 
 movement of emigration, springing no longer from dis- 
 tress or from landlord tyranny, but partly from a healthy 
 spirit of industrial ambition impelling young men 
 to the great fields of enterprise in the new world with 
 which they are no longer unacquainted, and partly 
 from a feeling of natural affection drawing the older 
 members of a family to the distant homes which their 
 children have established. Probably no country in 
 Europe has advanced so rapidly as Ireland within the 
 last ten years, and the tone of general cheerfulness, 
 the improvement of the houses, the dress, and the 
 
Xn IKTUODUCTION. 
 
 genernl condition of tlie people must have struck 
 every observer. Ireland is no doubt still very poor if 
 compared "^vith England, or even with Scotland ; but 
 its poverty consists much more in the absence of great 
 wealth than in the presence of great misery. It has 
 been recently stated that while paupers are in England 
 as one to twenty, and in Scotland as one to twenty- 
 three of the population, in Ireland they are only as one 
 to seventy-four.* At the same time industrial habits 
 have been rapidly spreading. The custom of early 
 marriages, which lay at the root of the economical 
 evils of Ireland, has, according to recent statistics, been 
 seriously checked ; and the standard of comfort is far 
 liigher and the spirit of industrial progress far more 
 active than in any previous portion of the century. If 
 industrial improvement, if the rapid increase of mate- 
 rial comforts among the poor, could allay political dis- 
 content, Ireland should never have been so loyal as at 
 present. 
 
 Kor can it be said that ignorance is at the root of 
 the discontent. The Irish peojile have always, even in 
 the darkest period of the penal laws, been greedy for 
 knowledge, and few races show more quickness in ac- 
 quiring it. The admirable system of national educa- 
 tion established in tlie present century is beginning to 
 bear abundant fruit, and among the younger genera- 
 tion at least, the level of knowledge is quite as high as 
 in England. Indeed, one of the most alarming features 
 of Irish disloyalty is its close and evident connection 
 with education. It is sustained by a cheap literature, 
 written often with no mean literary skill, which pene- 
 trates into every village, gives the people their first 
 
 ' See ' Ffiwcett on rauperism,' p. 27. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XUl 
 
 political impressions, forms and directs tbeir enthu- 
 siasm, and seems likely in the long leisure of the 
 pastoral life to exercise an increasing power. Close ob- 
 servers of the Irish character will liardly have failed to 
 notice the great change wliich since the famine has 
 passed over the amusements of the people. The old love 
 of boisterous out-of-door sports has almost disappeared, 
 and tliose who would have once sought their pleasures 
 in the market or the fair now gatlier in groups iu the 
 public-house, wliere one of their number reads out a 
 Fenian newspaper. WJiittever else this change may 
 portend, it is certainly of no good omen for the future 
 loyalty of the people. 
 
 It was long customary in England to underrate this 
 disaffection by ascribing it to very transitory causes. 
 The quarter of a century that followed the Union was 
 maiked by almost perpetual disturbance, but this it 
 was said was merely the natural ground-swell of agita- 
 tion which follow^ed a great reform. It was then the 
 popular theory that it w\is the work of O'Connell, who 
 was described during many years as tlie one obstacle to 
 the peace of Ireland, and whose death was made the 
 subject of no little congratulation, as though Irish dis- 
 content had perished with its organ. It was as if, the 
 .Eolian liarp being shattered, men WTotc an epitaph 
 u|x>n the wind. Experience has abundantly proved 
 the folly of such theories. Measured by mere chrono- 
 logy, a little more than seventy years have passed since 
 the Union ; but famine and emigration have com- 
 pressed into those years the work of centuries. The 
 character, feelings, and conditions of the people have 
 been profoundly altered. A long course of remedial 
 legislation has been carried, and during many years tlio 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 national party lias been without a leader and v?itliout 
 a stimulus. Yet, so far from subsiding^, disloyalty 
 in Ireland is probably as extensive, and is certainly 
 as malignant, as at the death of O'Connell, and in 
 many respects the public opinion of the country has 
 palpably deteriorated. O'Connell taught an attach- 
 ment to the connection, a loyalty to the Crown, a 
 respect for the rights of property, a consistency of 
 Liberalism, which we look for in vain among his suc- 
 cessors ; and that faith in moral force and constitu- 
 tional agitation which he made it one of his greatest 
 objects to instil into the people has almost vanished 
 with the failure of his agitation. 
 
 The causes of this deep-seated disaffection I have en- 
 deavoured in some degree to investigate in the following 
 essays. To the merely dramatic historian the history 
 of Ireland will probably appear less attractive than that 
 of most other countries, for it is somewhat doticient in 
 great characters and in splendid episodes ; but to a 
 philosophic student of history it presents an interest of 
 the very highest order. In no other history can we 
 trace more clearly the chain of causes and effects, the 
 influence of past legislation, not only upon tlie mate- 
 rial condition, but also u-pon the character of a nation. 
 In no other history esjoecially can we investigate more 
 fully the evil consequences which must ensue from dis- 
 regarding that sentiment of nationality which, whether 
 it be wise or foolish, whether it be desirable or the re- 
 verse, is at least one of the stron^^est and most endurinii: 
 of human passions. This, as I conceive, lies at the root 
 of Irish discontent. It is a question of nationality as 
 truly as in Hungary or in Poland. Special grievances 
 or anomalies may aggravate, but do not cause it, and 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 they become formidciLle only in as far as tliey are con- 
 nected with it. Wlmt discontent was felt against the 
 Protestant Established Church was felt chiefly because 
 it was regarded as an English garrison sustaining an 
 anti-national system ; and the agrarian difficulty never 
 assumed its full intensity till by the Repeal agitation 
 the landlords had been politically alienated from the 
 people. 
 
 The evils of the existing disloyalty are profoundly 
 felt in both nations. Nature and a long and inex- 
 tricable union of interests have made it imperatively 
 necessary for tlie two countries to continue under the 
 same rule. No reasonable man who considers their 
 relative positions can believe that England would ever 
 voluntaiily relinquish the government of Ireland, or 
 that Ireland could ever establish her independence in 
 opposition to England, unless the English navy were 
 utterly shattered. Even in tlie event of the dissolution 
 of the Empire, Irish separation could only be achieved 
 at the expense of a civil war, which would probably re- 
 sult in the massacre of a vast section of the Irisli 
 people, woidd drive from the countiy much of its 
 intelligence and most of its capital, and would inevi- 
 tably and immediately reduce it to a condition of tlie 
 mo.=t abject misery. Nor would any class suffer more 
 than the class by which revolutions arc usually made. 
 For poor men of energy and talent, the magnificent 
 field of Indian and colonial administration, which is now 
 thrown open to competition, ofifers a career of ambition 
 incomparably surpass] 
 other European natio: 
 fully availed themseh 
 is but a small one, it 
 
XVi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 among men ; for while Irish emigration is leavening 
 the New World, Irish administrators under the British 
 Crown are organising in no small degree the empires 
 or the republics of the future. All this noble career 
 for talent and enterprise would be destroyed by sepa- 
 ration ; every element of Irish greatness would dwindle 
 or perish ; the energies of the people, confined to the 
 narrow circle of a small and isolated State, would be 
 wasted in petty quarrels, sink into inanity, or degenerate 
 into anarchical passions. 
 
 These would be the consequences of the separation 
 of Ireland from the British Empire. That such a se- 
 verance is almost impossible^may be readily admitted ; 
 but still, in a great European convulsion, Ireland 
 might be a serious danger to England. Even in time 
 of peace its discontent necessitates a heavy military 
 expenditure, and the emigration from its shores is 
 multiplying enemies to England through the New 
 World. In foreign policy it is a manifest source both 
 of weakness and discredit. For many years English 
 Liberals have made it a main principle of tlieir foreign 
 policy to advocate the settlement of all disputes 
 between rulers and their subjects in accordance with 
 the desires of the latter ; and the fact that in a 
 portion of their own country the existing form of 
 government is notoriously opposed to the wishes of 
 the people supplies their adversaries with an obvious 
 answ^er. In home politics, the presence in Parliament 
 of a certain number of members who are alienated 
 frn^ '^ -"'' ■-''^f^vocfc nf +he Empire, and actuated 
 
 li that of the constitution, 
 quires additional gravity 
 md to equilibrium. It 
 
INTRODUCTION. XVll 
 
 lowers the tone of Liberalism, leads to unnatural coali- 
 tions and surprises, and is a constant temptation to 
 rival leaders to purchase this support by unworthy con- 
 cessions. Apart from the possible horrors of rebellion, 
 the mere existence of a widespread disloyalty restricts 
 the flow of capital which is essential to the full de- 
 velopment of Irish resources ; and the direction of 
 so large an amount of the enthusiasm of the country 
 in opposition to tlie law, and the diversion of much 
 more into sectarian channels, vitiates and debases all 
 political life. At the same time a constant fever of 
 political agitation is sustained. For a long time it 
 was the custom to send to Ireland officials who were 
 utterly inexperienced, or who, on account of their 
 characters, would have been tolerated nowhere else. 
 This system, which O'Connell compared to that of 
 country barbers making their apprentices take their 
 first lessons in sliaving upon a beggar, and which in 
 the last century elicited a very striking protest from 
 Lord Northington,' can hardly be said to continue, but 
 an equally mischievous one remains. The Irish diffi- 
 culty has an irresistible attraction to party leaders who 
 desire to raise some question that may embarrass or 
 displace a ]\Iinistry — to theorists who have crotchets to 
 display or political experiments to try — to revolution- 
 ists who wish to set in motion some subversive policy 
 which they think may eventually be extended to 
 
 * Wlicn appointed Lord-Lieutenant in 1783, he wrote to Fox: *I 
 must confess tliat it is a very wrong measure of English rr'^'^nt 
 
 to make ^lis country their first step in politics, as it -^ tr Jc i , 
 
 and I am sure men of abilities, knowledge, bus* -fi<^ "- I'i'^-e 
 
 ought to be employed here, both in the capacity ...... -;_.Ifutt, / ^ ' -;'nd 
 
 Secretar}', rot gentlemen taken wild f.^m "'' ...^'s . ''^^^'^ *'^f>f 
 debut in public life.' — Lord Ihtssclls Life '' • .-''' ^' " ': « 
 
XVIU IKIEODUCTION. 
 
 England. Writers who have never even crofsed tlie 
 Channel, and who are totally unacquainted with the 
 practical working of Irish institutions and with the cha- 
 racter of the people, dogmatise on the subject with the 
 utmost confidence, and throw in fresh brands of discord 
 at every period of crisis. i\Iore perhaps than anything 
 else, the country needs repose, but, in addition to its 
 o^\^l elements of anarchy, a torrent of irritating extra- 
 neous influences is constantly agitating it. 
 
 The three great requisites of good government for 
 Ireland are that it should be strong, that it should be 
 just, and that it should be national. It should be 
 strong as opposed to that miserable system which resists 
 every measure of popular demand as long as the country 
 is quiet, and then concedes it witliout qualification as 
 the prize of disloyalty and crime, and wliich has made 
 it a settled maxim among Irishmen that the favours ot 
 the Government are bestowed upon every class in direct 
 proportion to the dangers that arc apprehended from it. 
 It should be just as opposed to that system which at one 
 time leans wholly to Catholics or to tenants, and at 
 another time wOiolly to Protestants or to landlords, 
 which will suffer an illegal procession in one province 
 that would be rigidly re essed in another, and which 
 subordinates all questions of patronage or principle, and 
 even in some instances the very execution of the laws, 
 to the exigencies of party politics. By such systems 
 the respect for law has been fatally w^eakened, and their 
 imprisonment is the first condition of political health, 
 in addtion to this, it appears to me to J)e per- 
 fectly evident from the existing state of public opinion 
 in. Ireland, that no Government w^ill ever command the 
 real affection and h^'alty of the people w^hich is not in 
 
IXTRODUCTIOX. XIX 
 
 some degree national, administered in a great measure 
 by Irishmen and through Irish institutions. If the 
 present discontent is ever to be checked, if the ruling 
 power is ever to carry with it the moral weight which 
 is essential to its success, it can only be by calling into 
 being a strong local political feeling, directed by men 
 who have the responsilnlity of property, who are 
 attached to the connection, and who at the same time 
 possess the confidence of the Irish people. As in 
 Hungary, as in Poland, as in Belgium, national insti- 
 tutions alone will obtain the confidence of the nation, 
 and any system of policy which fails to recognise 
 this craving of the national sentiment will fail also to 
 strike a chord of true gratitude. It may palliate, but it 
 cannot cure. It may deal with local symptoms, but it 
 cannot remove the chronic disease. To call into active 
 political life the upper class of Irishmen, and to enlarge 
 the sphere of their political power — to give, in a word, 
 to Ireland the greatest amount of self-government that 
 is compatible with the unity and the security of the 
 Empire — should be the aim of every statesman. 
 
 To do this is, unfortunately, extremely difficult. 
 At present the very materials and essential conditions 
 of self-government are in a great degree wanting. 
 There was a time when the attachment of the oc- 
 cupiers of the soil to their landlords was probably as 
 warm in Ireland as in any other country, but a lon^^ 
 series of causes, which I have endeavoured 
 tlie following pages, have greatly diminisl 
 the schism of classes, and the wild noti< 
 subject of landed property which have of 
 been diffused, constitute a serious dan 
 motives of interest that connect Ireland wit 
 
XX INTllODUCTION. 
 
 are sufficient to secure the co-operation of the two 
 countries as long as Irish opinion is directed by pro- 
 perty and intelligence, but they arc not likely to weigh 
 with unprincipled adventurers, or with ig-norant and 
 unreasoning disloyalty. At the same time, sectarian 
 feeling runs so high in politics that it is probable that 
 one of the first acts of an Irish Parliament would now 
 be to build up a wall of separation between Protestants 
 and Catholics by the destruction of united education. 
 Under such circumstances a sudden change of system is 
 probably to be deprecated, and it is only by slow, cau- 
 tious, and gradual steps that self-government can be in 
 some degree restored. By steadily opposing the ten- 
 dency to centralisation, which has produced so many 
 evils in Ireland, by transferring private business from 
 the overworked Parliament of the Empire to cheaper 
 and- perhaps more competent local tribunals, by gradu- 
 ally enlarging the sphere of local government, and by 
 encouraging and bringing into activity the political 
 talent of the country, a sound public opinion may be 
 slowly formed. Local government in Ireland, in as 
 far as it exists, presents on the whole a very remarkable 
 and very satisfactory contrast to the political condition 
 of the country. The public institutions arc probably 
 "te as well managed as those of England, or indeed 
 of any other countr3^ The magistracy, the police, and 
 the -Dr.or-law administration are eminently efficient, and 
 the Co nparatively small amount of pauperism is partly 
 le good management of the latter. One of 
 signs of the deplorable local government in 
 has been tlie epidemic of small-pox which has 
 he general neglect of the law about vaccina- 
 in Ireland no such epidemic has raged, and 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. XXi 
 
 the fact is ascribed cliiefly to the much better enforce- 
 ment of the law. One of the most important recent 
 movements in the direction of prison reform has 
 been due to the success of the reformatory system 
 which has been established in Ireland. Undetected 
 agrarian crime, the untrustwortliiness of juries in cases 
 on which public feeling is strongly excited, the scan- 
 dalous tone of a certain section of the press, and the 
 frequency of religious or political riots still disgrace 
 the country ; but the first and last of these evils have 
 been restricted within very narrow territorial limits ; 
 the second miglit be greatly mitigated by the intro- 
 duction of the Scotch jury system, under which unani- 
 mity is not necessary for a verdict ; and the general 
 average both of serious crime and of vice is lower than 
 in England. It would be a gross injustice to the country 
 to infer that its political condition reflects accurately 
 its social condition, or that the relations of landlords 
 and tenants are habitually hostile. If the people are 
 deficient in self-reliance, they are at least eminently 
 susceptible to discipline, their natural instincts are 
 aristocratic, and they are very faithful to their leaders. 
 If it be true that the desire for some measure of self- 
 government is not likely to be extinguished or dimi- 
 nished in Ireland, it is evident that many influen 
 are in operation which must tend towards its realisa- 
 tion. Of the two great Irish measures which have bee- 
 passed within the last few years, it will probably beji-ou' 
 that the one disestablishing the Protestant Church ' 
 have effects little contemplated by the bulk of its 
 porters. The question was always mainly an E- 
 one. Since the tithes were commuted into a la 
 paid exclusively by the landlords, the great 
 
XXil INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the Irish people have cared very little on the subject. 
 The Protestant clergy were usually popular and useful ; 
 ^Yith tlie exception of priests and converts, few people 
 in Ireland grudged them their endowments ; and if it 
 had not been for English party interests, and for the 
 radicalism of British Dissent, they might long have 
 continued. If, indeed, tlie Church funds had been 
 divided between the rival sects, the conc^iliatory effect 
 of the measure might have been very great. The 
 partial payment of the priests — which a long series of 
 eminent statesmen of different parties, from Pitt to 
 Lord Kussell, have concurred in recommending — would 
 Iiavc attached the most influential class in Ireland 
 indissolubly to tlie throne, would have appreciably 
 raised their social position, and, by relieving the 
 poorer Catholics of their most oppressive burdens, 
 would have been felt with gratitude in every house- 
 hold. If the independence of the priesthood had been 
 fully guaranteed, the Irish objections to such a mea- 
 sure would probably have been surmounted ; but 
 English, and especially Scotch, public opinion made it 
 impossible. The Radicals, who desired tlie abolition 
 of the Irish Establishment mainly as a step to the 
 abolition of the Engli:^]i one — the Puritans, whose 
 hatred of Catholicism was even stronger than their 
 hatred of Establishments — interposed their veto, and 
 the Church Bill was carried in a form which was of 
 '•^tle or no practical benefit to the Catholics, who 
 ^ accordingly received it with general indifference, 
 its effect upon the Protestants has been extremely 
 t. They have been cut loose from their old 
 ngs. The object the defence of which was a 
 nd of their policy has disappeared, and tliey are 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXlll 
 
 certainly more disposed than at any period since the 
 Union to throw tliemselves into the general current of 
 Irish sentiment. At the same time, tlie representative 
 bodies in which the Irish gentry are learning to 
 assemble to deliberate upon their Church affairs are 
 forming habits which may bo extended to politics. In 
 spite of frequent and menacing reactions, it is probable 
 that sectarian animosity will diminish in Ireland. The 
 general intellectual tendencies of the age are certainly 
 hostile to it. AVith the increase of wealth and know- 
 ledge there must in time grow up among the Catholics 
 an indeijendent lay public opinion, and the tendency 
 of their politics will cease to be purely sacerdotal. 
 The establishment of perfect religious equality and 
 the settlement of the question of the temporal power 
 of the Pope have removed grave causes of irritation, 
 and united education, if it be steadily maintained and 
 honestly carried out, will at length assuage the bitter- 
 ness of sects and perhaps secure for Ireland the inesti- 
 mable benefit of real union. The division of classes 
 is at present perhaps a graver danger than the di- 
 vision of sects. But the Land Bill of Mr. Glad- 
 stone cannot fail in time to do much to cure it. If 
 it be possible in a society like our own to create 
 a yeoman class intervening between landlords and 
 tenants, the facilitiec now given to tenants to purchase 
 tlieir tenancies will create it ; and if, as is probable, it 
 is economically impossible that such a class sho'-^ ^ 
 now exist to any considerable extent, the tenant 
 have at least been given an unexampled secu j^' 
 they have been rooted to the soil, and tlieir inte^^ s 
 have been more than ever identilied with those. *' 
 tlieir landlords. The division between rich and pooi 
 
XXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 irf also rapidly ce^ising' to coincide with that between 
 Protestant and Catholic, and thus the old lines of 
 demarcation are being- gradually effaced. A consider- 
 able time must elapse before the full effect of these 
 changes is felt, but sooner or later they must exercise 
 a profound influence on opinion ; and if they do not 
 extinguish the desire of the people for national institu- 
 tions, they will greatly increase the probability of their 
 obtaining them. 
 
THE 
 
 LEADERS OF PUBLIC OPINION 
 
 IN 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 JONATHAN SWIFT, 
 
 Jonathan Swift was born in Dublin in the year 1667. 
 His father (who had died a few months before) had 
 been steward of the King's Inn Society. His mother 
 was an English lady of a Leicestershire family, remark- 
 able for the strictness of her religious views, and for 
 the energy and activity of her character. At the early 
 age of six, Swift was sent to a school at Kilkenny, 
 where he remained till he was fourteen, when he en- 
 tered the University of Dublin. His position there 
 was exceedingly painful, and lie remembered it with 
 bitterness to the end of his life. His sole means of 
 subsistence were the remittances of his uncle Godwin ; 
 and those remittances, owing to the poverty — or, as 
 Swift believed, the miserly disposition — of his uncle, 
 were doled out in the most niggardly manner. He 
 found it impossible to maintain the position of a gen- 
 tleman. He was precluded from all the luxuries, and 
 could with difficulty procure the necessaries of li^ 
 
2 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 Notwithstanding tlie extreme frugality with which ho 
 manasred his slender resources, he was on one occasion 
 left absolutely destitute, and was relieved only by the 
 unexpected arrival of a present from a cousin, who was 
 a merchant at Lisbon. The conduct of a young man 
 imder such circumstances often furnishes no obscure 
 intimation of the prevailing character of his after-life. 
 Goldsmith, when struggling with extreme poverty, at 
 the University, lived in the most reckless enjoyment, 
 spending what money he had with profuse generosity, 
 disregarding as far as possible the studies of his course, 
 and only employing his fine talents in writing street- 
 ballads, which he sold to supply his more pressing 
 wants. Johnson, in a similar position, grew morose, 
 and turbulent, and domineering. He defied the dis- 
 cipline, but availed himself fully of the intellectual 
 advantages of, college, and astonished and delighted 
 his tutors by the extent and the accuracy of his in- 
 formation. 
 
 Swift, like Johnson, was completely soured by adver- 
 sity, and, like Goldsmith, he treated the academic 
 studies with supreme contempt. He systematically 
 violated all college rules — absenting himself from 
 night-roll, chapel, and lectures, haunting public* 
 houses, and in every way defying discipline. He 
 considered mathematics, logic, and metaphysics use- 
 less, and accordingly positively refused to study them. 
 Dr. Sheridan (who was a good mathematician) tells us 
 that in after-life he had attained some proficiency 
 in the first of these subjects, but the hatred and 
 contempt he entertained for it never diminished. His 
 ignorance of logic was so great that at his degree ex- 
 amination he could not even frame a syllogism, and 
 accordingly was unable to pass the examination, and 
 only obtained his degree ' by special favour' — a fact 
 
ins LIFE AT THE UNIVEKSITY. 6 
 
 which is still remembered with pleasure by the under- 
 graduates who are examined beneath his portrait. Yet, 
 even at this time, his genius was not undeveloped or 
 unemployed. He studied history, he wrote odes, and, 
 above all, he composed his ' Tale of a Tub.' The first 
 draft of this wonderful book he showed to his college 
 friend Warren when he was only nineteen, but he 
 afterwards amplified and revised it considerably, and 
 its publication did not take place till 1704. He also 
 acquired at this time those pedestrian habits which 
 continued through life, and exercised so great an influ- 
 ence upon his mind. He traversed on foot a consider- 
 able portion of England and Ireland, mingling with 
 the very lowest classes, and sleeping at the lowest 
 public-houses. The traces of this liabit may be seen on 
 almost every page of his writings. To this period of 
 his life we probably owe the taste for coarse, vulgar 
 illustrations, by which his noblest works are disfigured, 
 as well as much of that minute observation, that keen 
 and accurate knowledge of men, whicli is one of their 
 greatest charms. To the end of his life he delighted 
 in mixing with men of the lowest classes, and no great 
 writer ever understood better tlio art of adapting his 
 style to their tastes and understandings. To the same 
 period of his life we may trace the careful and penu- 
 rious habits which in his old age developed into an 
 intense avarice. 
 
 Upon leaving the University, the first gleam of 
 prosperity, though at first liardly of happiness, shone 
 upon his path. His mother was related to the wife 
 of Sir W. Temple, and this circumstance procured for 
 him the position of amanuensis at ISIoor Park, which he 
 held for several years. 
 
 Sir W. Temple was at this time near the close of liis 
 oareer. He enjoyed the reputation of a considerable 
 
4 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 statesman and of a very great diplomatist, and Lis 
 character was in truth much more suited for nego- 
 tiation than f«>r tlic rougher forms of statesmanship. 
 With great abilities and much kindness of heart, he 
 was too languid, unambitious, and epicurean to attain 
 the highest place in English politics ; and his bland, 
 patronising courtesy, his refined and somewhat fasti- 
 dious taste, as well as his instinctive shrinking from 
 turmoil, controversy, and violence, denoted a man 
 who was more fitted to shine in a court than in a par- 
 liament. He described in one of his Essays ' coolness 
 of temper and blood, and consequently of desires,' as 
 ' the great principle of virtue,' and his disposition 
 almost realised his ideal. He had, however, a consi- 
 derable knowledge of men and books, and a sound and 
 moderate judgment in politics; and his life, if it was 
 distinguished by no splendid virtues, and characterised 
 })y a little selfishness and a little cowardice, w^as at 
 least singularly pure in an age when political purity 
 was very rare. He had surrounded himself in his old 
 age with beautiful gardens, and olijects of art and 
 refinement ; and he dallied in a feeble way with litera- 
 ture, writing in admirably pure, graceful, and melo- 
 dious English, somewhat vapid essays on politics and 
 gardens, on Chinese literature and the Evil of Extremes. 
 With a character of tliis kind Swift could have little 
 sympathy. For good or for evil, intensity was always 
 one of liis leading characteristics. It was shown alike 
 in his friendships and his enmities, in his ambitions 
 and his regrets. Though not susceptible to the com- 
 mon passion of love, a liquid fire seemed coursing 
 through his veins. That ' SDCva indignatio ' which he 
 recorded in his epitaph, the fierce ambition, the in- 
 domitable pride, tlie intense hatred of WTong, which 
 he invariably displayed, must have often made him 
 
ins ORDINATION. 5 
 
 strangely at variance with liis courtly patron. His 
 position was extremely galling, for he was at first only 
 treated as a kind of upper servant. He was shy and 
 awkward, and felt, as he afterwards confessed, keenly 
 a word of disapprobation from Temple. His college 
 habits doubtless gave an additional roughness to his 
 manners ; and the ill health, which had already begun 
 to prey upon him, an additional acerbity to his temper. 
 However, as time advanced, his position at Moor 
 Park improved. He devoted himself most assiduously 
 to study for several years, and thus compensated for 
 his idleness at the University. His favourite subjects 
 appear to have been the classics and French litera- 
 ture ; and he read them with the energy of enthusiasm. 
 In 1692 he took his degree of Master of Arts at Oxford, 
 for which University he ever after entertained feelings 
 of grateful regard. He also rose rapidly in Sir W. 
 Temple's estimation, and hoped, through his influence, 
 soon to obtain an independent position. He believed, 
 however (whether justly or unjustly we need not too 
 curiously enquire), that Temple's patronage was very 
 languid, and he at last left Moor Park in anger, and 
 proceeded to Ireland to be ordained. He there found, 
 to his inexpressible dismay, that a letter of recom- 
 mendation from Temple was an indispensable preli- 
 minary to ordination. For months he shrank from the 
 humiliation of asking the letter, but at last he wrote 
 for and received it. He was ordained, and almost im- 
 mediately after he obtained a small preferment at a 
 place called Kilroot, in the diocese of Connor. Temple, 
 however, in the meantime, had found that Swift's pre- 
 sence* was absolutely necessary to his enjoyment. The 
 extreme amiability of his disposition prevented him 
 from retaining any feelings of bitterness, and he made 
 overtures which soon drew the young clergyman from a 
 
6 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 retirement that \sas as unsuited to his happiness as to 
 his genius. Swift returned to England, and lived with 
 Temple till the death of the latter, which took place 
 four years after. During this time he was treated not 
 as a dependent, hut as a friend. He was admitted into 
 his patron's confidence ; his genius was fully recog- 
 nised ; and the bias of his mind determined for life. 
 Living with an old statesman of great experience, 
 sagacious judgment, and varied knowledge, it was 
 natural that his attention should be chiefly turned to 
 politics. His first pamphlet — the ' Dissentions of the 
 Nobles and Commons of Athens' — was publislied some- 
 what later in the Whig interest. It was extremely 
 successful, and was generally attributed to Bishop 
 Burnet. He had several opportunities of seeing the 
 King, and some of tlie leading statesmen of the day, 
 who visited Moor Park — of gauging their intellects, 
 and correcting his theories by their experience. 
 
 On one occasion he was deputed by Temple to en- 
 deavour to persuade tlie King to consent to triennial 
 parliaments — a mission in which he did not succeed. 
 lEe also attended largely to literature. He assisted 
 Temple in revising his works, and he defended him 
 against tlie well-known assaults of Bentley. Temple 
 had rashly committed himself to the authenticity of 
 some spurious letters attributed to Phalaris, and had 
 launched into a eulogium of these letters in par- 
 ticular, and generally of ancient as opposed to modern 
 literature. The dispute had been warmly taken up 
 by Boyle and Atterbury on one side, and by Bentley 
 on the other. The scholarship of Bentley proved 
 over.vhclming, and his opponents were at last driven 
 from the field ; but Swift, avoiding judiciously all 
 direct argumentative collision with so formidable an 
 opponent, produced his 'Battle of the Books,' which 
 
ESTHER JOHNSON. 7 
 
 was then and is now unrivalled in its kind. But it 
 was not merely the gratification of political or literary- 
 ambition that made the last portion of Swift's residence 
 at Moor Park so attractive. That strange romance 
 which tinged all his later years had begim, and his 
 life was already indissolubly connected with that of 
 "Esther Johnson, 
 
 ^ Esther Johnso n, s o well k nown bythe name of 
 Stella, was_the^e£uted_daughter of the steward_pf_ Sir 
 W. Temple, but many persons maintained that Temple 
 himself was her father, and they imagined they could 
 detect the parentage in her features. The peculiar 
 position she seems to have occupied at Moor Park, 
 and the large legacy left her by Temple, go far to 
 corroborate the supposition. At the time we speak of 
 she was in tlic very zenith of her charms. Her 
 figure, which in after-3'cars lost much of its grac<^ 
 and symmetry, was then faultless in its proportions, 
 and her biographers dilate with rapture on the intel- 
 lectual beauty of her pale but not pensive countenance, 
 shadowed by magnificent raven hair, and illumined 
 by dark, lustrous, and trembling eyes. Her tempera- 
 ment was singularly serene, patient, and unimpas- 
 sioned, admirably suited for social life, and for sustained 
 friendship, but a little too cold for real love, and she 
 appears to have acquiesced for many years, -svithout 
 repining, in a kind of connection which few women 
 would have tolerated. But great as were her personal 
 charms, her intellectual gifts were far more remark- 
 able, and she seems to have lived more from the head 
 than from the heart. She had read much and in 
 many fields, and her wit made her the delight of every 
 society in which she moved. Swift said that in what- 
 ever company she appeared it seemed to be invariably 
 admitted that she had said the best thing of the 
 
8 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 evening, and though the witticisms he has preserved 
 exhibit quite as much coarseness as point, her principal 
 extant poem — that to Swift on his birthday in 1721 — 
 fully sustains her reputation.' 
 
 I do not intend in the present sketch to enter at 
 length into an examination of the controversy about 
 the nature of the connection that subsisted for so 
 many years between Swift and Esther Johnson. Such 
 matters are perhaps given a rather disproportionate 
 place in the lives of men of genius ; and, at all events, 
 the object of this work is to deal with the political 
 aspects of his career. There appears, however, to be 
 no real doubt that that connection was always purely 
 platonic. They lived in Ireland in different houses, 
 except during the illnesses of Swift. Stella presided 
 at the table of Swift when he received company. Their 
 correspondence was of the most affectionate character, 
 and Stella has acquired an immortality of fame tlirough 
 the poetry of her friend. At the same time, that 
 poetry, though indicating the affection of a warm 
 friend, is wholly unlike that of a lover, and it is 
 curious to observe how constantly Swift decries her 
 personal beauty, and directs liis most graceful compli- 
 ments to her other qualities. 
 
 But, Stella, say what evil tongue 
 Reports that you're no longer young ; 
 Tliat Time sits with liis scythe to mow 
 "Where erst sat Cupid with his bow ; 
 That half your locks are turned to grey. 
 I'll ne'er believe a word they say ! 
 'Tis true — but let it not be known — 
 My eyes are somewhat dimmish grown ; 
 For Nature, always in the right, 
 To your defects adapts my sight; 
 
 * There is one other short poem, * Lines to Jealousy,' ascribed to hcr» 
 
GOES TO IRELAND. V 
 
 And wrinkles undistingiiished pass, 
 For I'm ashamed to use a glass ; 
 And till I see them -with these eyes, 
 "Whoever sa3-s you have them, lies. 
 Ko length of time can make you quit 
 Honour and virtue, sense and vit : 
 Thus you may still bo young to me, 
 "While I can better hear than see. 
 Oh ne'er may Tortune show her spito 
 To make me deaf and mend my sight! 
 
 Upon the death of Temple, Swift was oDce more 
 thrown upon tlie world, but his prospects were ex- 
 ceedingly favourable. Temple (who during his long, 
 painful illness, had found Swift unwearied in his atten- 
 tion) had taken every means of ensuring his future 
 prosperity. He left him a pecuniary legacy, together 
 with the charge and profit of publishing his post- 
 liumous works, and he liad procui'ed for him from 
 Iving William a promise of a prebend either at Canter- 
 bury or AVindsor. 
 
 Temple's posthumous w^orks were rapidly published 
 and dedicated to the King, who, however, took no 
 notice of the dedication, of his old servant's request, 
 or of his own promise. Shortly afterwards. Swift ob- 
 tained the position of secretary to tlie Earl of Berkeley, 
 who had been appointed one of the Lords Justices in 
 Ireland ; but a person named Bushe succeeded in per- 
 suading the Earl that the office should not be held by 
 a clergyman, and in obtaining it for himself. Another 
 disappointment followed. He was almost appointed to 
 the deanery of Down, but the appointment was stayed 
 by tlie interposition of Archbishop King, who objected 
 to his extreme youth. Lord Berkeley, as if to com- 
 pensate for these disappointments, then gave him the 
 living of Laracor and Kathbeggan. He remained for 
 6ome time at Laracor in tlie discharge of his clerical 
 
10 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 duties ; and Stella, accompanied by a Mrs. Dingle, a 
 lady of a very negative character, came over and 
 resided near him. Before long, however, he was called 
 from his country living to partake in the great political 
 struggles of the day. 
 
 In 1710 the Primate of Ireland sent him to London 
 to endeavour to procure a remission of the payment to 
 tlie Crown by the Irish clergy of the first fruits and the 
 twentieth parts. He succeeded in his mission, and 
 he, at the same time, found himself dra^m into the 
 vortex of politics. 
 
 The Whig ministry, under Somers and Godolphin, 
 had just fallen. Harley and St. John, the leaders of 
 the Tories, had succeeded them, but their position was 
 exceedingly precarious. The feelings of the people 
 were ag-ainst them. The chief political writers of the 
 day assailed them with unsparing severity; and the 
 Queen had, on at least one occasion, slighted them in 
 the most undisguised manner. The age, as ]Macaulay 
 observes, was essentially an age of essays. The press 
 was yet undeveloped, the speeches of Parliament were 
 unreported, but yet a strong intellectual energy per- 
 vaded the nation. Under these circumstances the 
 writers of pamphlets, or of short political essays, like 
 the ' Examiner,' were the real rulers of England. In 
 the composition of these essays Swift was unrivalled, 
 except by Addison, and scarcely equalled by him. 
 
 The "Whigs naturally supposed that he would devote 
 his talents to their service, but they soon found that 
 they "svere mistaken. Swift treated them \\dth marked 
 coldness. He refused, at Lord Halifax's, to drink the 
 ' resmTection' of the Whigs, unless it were accompanied 
 by their reformation ; and he at length openly joined 
 himself to the Tories. The reasons he assigned for 
 tliis change were very simple. He had originally been 
 
niS CHANGE OF POLITICS. 11 
 
 a Wliig because he justified the Revolution, which 
 rould only be defended on Whig principles. On the 
 otlier hand, as a clergyman and a High Churchman, 
 he considered the exclusion of Dissenters from State 
 offices essential to the security of the Church, and he 
 therefore alxindoned the Whigs, who had constituted 
 themselves the champions and representatives of the 
 Dissenting interest. At the same time he more than 
 once avowed, with that curious frankness for which 
 he was remarkable, that personal motives contributed 
 to his change. Grodolphin had treated him with great 
 coldness ; he had been neglected and disappointed by 
 (lie i>arty; he considered that no personal obligation 
 bound him to the falling fortunes of the Whigs ; and 
 he met with warm encouragement from Harley and St. 
 John, the leaders of the Tories. He was very poor, 
 very able, and very ambitious, and his interests and 
 liis sympathies tended in the same direction. 
 
 This change, as might liave been expected, has 
 exposed Swift to bitter attacks from most AVhig 
 and from some Tory writers — attacks that have been 
 the more natural because Tory principles have found 
 no abler defender, and Whig statesmen no more 
 rancorous assailant, than this former Whig. But 
 although in this as in most periods of his life Swift 
 acted through mixed motives, I do not think that an 
 impartial judge will pronounce any very severe sentence 
 upon it. It was almost inevitable that a young man 
 brought up in the house of Sir W. Temple should 
 begin his career as a Whig. It was almost equally 
 certain that a High Church clergyman would ultimately 
 gravitate to the Tories. Swift, though he disliked 
 William, never appears to have questioned the neces- 
 sity of the Revolution, and in this respect he con- 
 tinued a Whig. Nor was he ever imr^'""^"" """'' "" '' 
 
12 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 Tory friends, in negotiations with the Pretender. But 
 in the reign of Anne, and especially after the prosecu- 
 tion of Sacheverell had shattered the ministry of Godol- 
 phin, the great question dividing the two parties was 
 not the question of dynasty, but the question of tests. 
 It was much more a contest between the Church and 
 Dissent than between the adherents of rival claimants 
 to the throne. Tlie ambiguous position and divided 
 feelings of the Queen had suspended the conflict of 
 the devolution, and the injudicious prosecution of 
 Sacheverell had aroused a spirit which entirely altered 
 the relative positions of parties. The whole body of 
 the Dissenters, and all who desired the repeal of the 
 tests, supported the Whigs. Tlie great majority of 
 the Anglican clergy, and all the classes that were 
 moved by the cry of ' Church in danger,' rallied round 
 the Tories. It may appear strange that an intellect 
 at once so powerful and so irreverent as that of Swift 
 should have been wedded to High Church notions, but 
 the fact is undoubted, and it is an entire misrepro 
 sentation to describe these sentiments as lightly or 
 hastily assumed. The ' Tale of a Tub,' which was 
 sketched in college, and published in 1704, shows all 
 the Church principles and all the antipathy to Dis- 
 senters which he subsequently evinced. The same 
 High Church principles appeared in a poem, which he 
 wrote when with Sir W. Temple, in praise of Sancroft, 
 in which he deplored the condition of the Church, ' led 
 blindfold by the State.' In 1708 he published his 
 ' Sentiments of a Church of England Man,' in which 
 he describes himself as wavering between the parties, 
 and aiming at neutrality, on the one liand justifying 
 the Ee volution, on the other deploring the prevailing 
 sentiments about the Church. In a letter on the 
 sacramental test, which appeared a few months later. 
 
POLITICAL LITERATURE. 13 
 
 he took a still stronger part ao-ainst the Dissenters, 
 and to this letter he ascribes the first coolness of his 
 Whig friends. lie said on one occasion that he could 
 not understand a clergyman not being a High Church- 
 man ; and in every stage of his career he wrote steadily, 
 persistently, and powerfully in favour of tests. In 
 changing liis side in politics he deserted men who had 
 neglected and ill-treated liim, but it would be difficult 
 to show that he abandoned a single principle of secular 
 politics, while he undoubtedly took the line in Church 
 politics which his earliest writings had foreshadowed. 
 No one, indeed, can compare his feeble essaj on ' The 
 Dissentions of the Nobles and Commons in Athens,' 
 which is his one Whig pamphlet, with his later 
 writings in defence of the Tories, without perceiving 
 in which direction his mind naturally inclined. No 
 doubt his junction with the Tories in 1710 was emi- 
 nently to his advantage, but it should not be forgotten 
 tliat in his later years he defended tests and disqualifica- 
 tions quite as jealously in Ireland at the very time when 
 he was endeavouring to unite all Irishmen in their 
 national cause. Sucli a bigotry is far from admirable, 
 but it may at least claim the merit of sincerity. 
 
 The principal writers at this time on the Whig 
 side were Addison, Steele, Burnet, Congreve, and 
 Ivowe, who were opposed by Atterbury, St. John, and 
 Prior. Addison retired from the arena a few weeks 
 before Swift entered it, and the latter was left without 
 a rival. In many of the qualities of effective politi<!al 
 writing he has never been surpassed. Without the 
 grace and delicacy of Addison, without the rich ima- 
 ginative eloquence or the profound philosophic in- 
 sight of Burke, he was a far greater master of that 
 tfcrse, homely, and nervous logic which appeals most 
 powerfully to the English mind, and no writer has 
 
14 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 ever excelled him in tlie vivid force of bis illustrations, 
 in trenchant, original, and inventive wit, or in con- 
 centrated malignity of invective or satire. With all 
 the intellectual and most of the moral qualities of the 
 most terrible of partisans he combined many of the 
 gifts of a consummate statesman — a marvellous power 
 of captivating those with whom he came in contact, 
 great skill in reading characters and managing men, 
 a rapid, decisive judgment in emergencies ; an eminently 
 practical mind, seizing with a happy tact the common- 
 sense view of every question he treated, and almost 
 absolutely free from the usual defects of mere literary 
 politicians. But for his profession he might have 
 risen to the very highest posts of English states- 
 manship, and in spite of his profession, and without 
 any of the advantages of rank or office, he was for 
 some time one of the most influential men in England. 
 He stemmed the tide of political literature, which had 
 been flowing strongly against his party, and the ad- 
 mirable force of his popular reasoning, as well as the 
 fierce virulence of his attacks, placed him at once 
 in the first position in the fray. The Tory party, 
 assailed by almost overwhelming combinations from 
 without, and distracted by the most serious divisions 
 within, was sustained and defended by him. Its 
 leaders were divided by interest, by temperament, 
 and, in some degree, even by policy; but Swift's 
 genius gained an ascendency over their minds, and 
 his persuasions long averted the impending collision. 
 Its extreme members had formed themselves into a 
 separate body, and were clamouring for the expulsion 
 of all Whigs from office ; but Swift's Letter of Advice 
 to the ' October Club ' effected the dissolution of that 
 body, and tlic threatened schism was prevented. The 
 nation, dazzled by the genius of Marlborough, and 
 
niS FRIENDSHIPS. 15 
 
 fired by the enthusiasm of a protracted war, was 
 fiercely opposed to a party whose policy was peace, 
 but Swift's ' Examiners ' gradually modified this op- 
 position, and his ' Conduct of the Allies ' for a time 
 completely quelled it. The success of this pamphlet 
 has scarcely a parallel in history. It seems to have 
 for a time almost reversed the current of public opin- 
 ion, and to have enabled the 3Iinisters to conclude 
 the Peace of Utrecht. Notwithstanding his coarseness 
 and capricious violence, and an occasional eccentricity 
 of manner which indicated not obscurely the seeds of 
 insanity, the brilliancy of his matchless conversation 
 made him the delight of every society, and his sayings 
 became the proverbs of every coftee-house. Among 
 his friends were men of all parties, of all creeds, and 
 of all characters. In the course of a few years he was 
 on most intimate terms with Addison and Steele, with 
 Halifax, Congreve, Prior, Pope, Arbuthnot, and Peter- 
 borough, with Harley and St. John, and most of tho 
 other leaders of the da}-. In spite of the gloomy 
 misanthropy of his temperament, and the savage reck- 
 lessness with which he too often employed his powers 
 of sarcasm, he was capable of splendid generosity, 
 and of the truest and most constant friendship. Few 
 men have ever obtained a deeper or more lasting- 
 affection, and we may well jjlace the testimony of the 
 illustrious men who knew him best in opposition to 
 the literary judgments of posterity. 'Dear Friend,' 
 wrote Arbuthnot in after-years, 'the last sentence of 
 your letter plunged a dagger in my heart. Never 
 repeat those sad but tender words, that you will try 
 to forget me. For my part, I can never forget you- 
 at least till I discover, which is impossible, another 
 friend whose conversation could procure me the plea- 
 sure I havo found in yours.' Addison termed him 
 
16 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 ' the most agreeable companion, the truest friend, tlie 
 greatest genius of his age.' Pope after a friendship 
 of twenty-three years wrote of him to Lord Orrery, 
 ' My sincere love of that valuable, indeed incomparable^ 
 man, will accompany him through life, and pursue his 
 memory were I to live a hundred lives, as many of 
 his works will live, which are absolutely original, un- 
 equalled, unexampled. His humanity, his charity, his 
 condescension, his candour, are equal to his wit, and 
 require as good and true a taste to be equally valued.' 
 Undoubtedly, in the first instance, many of these 
 friendships arose from gratitude. Literature had not 
 yet arrived at the period when it could dispense with 
 patrons, and one of the legitimate goals to which every 
 literary man aspired was a place under the State. This 
 naturally drew the chief writers around Swift, and the 
 manner in which he at this time employed his influ- 
 ence is one of the most pleasing features of his career. 
 There is scarcely a man of genius of the age who 
 was not indebted to him. Even his political oppo- 
 nents, even men who liad written violently against liis 
 party, obtained places by his influence. Berkeley was 
 drawn by him from the retirement of college, recom- 
 mended more than once to the leading Tories, and 
 placed upon tlie highway of promotion. Congreve was 
 secured at his request in the place which the Whigs 
 had given him. Parnell, Steele, Gay, Eowe, Phillips, 
 and Diaper received places or other favours by his soli- 
 citation. He said himself, with a justifiable pride, that 
 he had provided for more than fifty people, not one of 
 whom was a relation. His influence in society as well 
 as with the Grovernment was ceaselessly employed in 
 favour of literature. He founded the ' Scriblerus Club,' 
 in which many of the chief writers of tlie day joined ; 
 he exerted himself most er.rnestly in bringing Pope 
 
HIS LIFE IN LONDON. 17 
 
 forward, and obtaining subscriptions for liis translation 
 of Homer. He pressed upon the attention of tlie Go- 
 vemment a plan (which is now, however, admitted to 
 have been an unwise one) for watching over the purity 
 of the language, and he on every occasion insisted on 
 marked deference being paid to literary men. He 
 himself took an exceedingly high, and indeed arrogant, 
 tone with Harley and St. John ; and when the former 
 sent him a sum of money as a compensation for his 
 services, he was so offended that their friendship was 
 well-nigh broken for ever. That this tone was not, as 
 has sometimes been alleged, the vulgar insolence of an 
 upstart, is sufficiently proved by the deep attachment 
 manifested towards him by both Harley and St. John 
 long after their political connection had terminated. 
 
 During all this time Swift kept up a continual cor- 
 respondence with Stella, in the shape of a Journal, 
 recording with the utmost minuteness the events of 
 every day. We have the clearest possible evidence 
 that this Journal was not intended for any other eyes 
 than those of Stella and Mrs. Dingle. It is filled with 
 terms of the most childish endearment, with execrable 
 puns, with passages written with his eyes shut, with 
 extempore verses, and extempore proverbs ; with the 
 records of every passing caprice, of every hope, fear, 
 and petty annoyance ; and is evidently a complete 
 transcript of his mind. In that Journal we can trace 
 clearly the eminence to which he rose, and also the 
 shadows that overcast his mind. One of the principal 
 of these was the gradual decline of his friendship with 
 Addison. Addison's habitual coldness had, at first, 
 completely yielded to the charms of Swift's conversa- 
 tion, and notwithstanding the great dissimilarity of 
 their characters, they lived on the most intimate 
 terms. But Swift was a strong Tory, and Addisoii was 
 
18 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 a strong Wbig; and Addison was almost identified 
 with Steele, who was still more violent in his politics, 
 and who, tliough he had received favours from Swift, 
 had made a violent personal attack npon his bene- 
 factor,* and had elicited an equally violent reply : and 
 these things tended to the dissolution of the friend- 
 ship. There was never an open breach, but their inter- 
 course lost its old cordiality, and the glow of affection 
 that had once characterised it passed away never to 
 return. ' I went to Mr. Addison's,' wrote Swift in his 
 Journal, ' and dined with him at his lodgings. I had 
 not seen him these three weeks ; we are grown common 
 acquaintance, yet what have I not done for his friend 
 Steele ! Mr. llarlcy reproached me the last time I saw 
 him, that, to please me, he would be reconciled to 
 Steele, and had promised and appointed to see him, 
 and tliat Steele never came. Harrison, whom IMr. Ad- 
 dison recommended to me, I have introduced to the 
 Secretary of State, who has promised me to take care 
 of him ; and I have represented Addison himself so to 
 the jMinistry, that they think and talk in his favour, 
 though they hated liim before. AVell, lie is now in my 
 debt — there is an end ; and I never had the least 
 obligation to him — and there is another end.' 
 
 Another source of annoyance to Swift was the diffi- 
 culty with which he obtained Church preferment. He 
 knew that his political position was necessarily exceed- 
 ingly transient ; he had no resources except his living, 
 and he was extremely ambitious. By his influence at 
 least one bishopric and innumerable other places had 
 been given away, and yet he was unable to obtain for 
 liimself any preferment that would place him above the 
 vicissitudes of politics. The reason of this was, that 
 t\e Queen had conceived an intense antipathy to him. 
 
 ' In a pamphlet called ' The Crisis.' 
 
mS ALLEGED SCErilCISM. 19 
 
 Sharpc, the Archbishop of York, had shown her liis 
 ' T.ile of a Tub,' and had represented him as an absolute 
 freethinker ; the Duchess of Somerset, whose influence 
 at court was very great, and wliom he had bitterly 
 and coarsely satirised, employed herself with untiring 
 hatred in opposing his promotion ; and the impres- 
 sion they made on the mind of Anne was such that 
 all the remonstrances of the Ministers and all the 
 entreaties of Lady Masham were unable to over- 
 come it. 
 
 The charge of scepticism lias been frequently re- 
 iterated in the present day, and it must be acknow- 
 ledged that it is not wholly without plausibility. 
 Although the object of the ' Tale of a Tub ' was un- 
 doubtedly to defend the Church of England, and to 
 ridicule its opponents, it would be difficult to find in 
 the whole compass of literature any production more 
 utterly unrestrained by considerations of reverence or 
 decorum. Nothing in Voltaire is more grossly pro- 
 fane than the passages in Swift about the Koman 
 Catholic doctrine concerning the Sacrament, and the 
 Calvinistic doctrine concerning inspiration. And al- 
 though the ' Tale of a Tub ' is an extreme example, 
 the same spirit pervades many of his other perform- 
 ances. His wit was perfectly unbridled. His unri- 
 valled power of ludicrous combination seldom failed to 
 get the better of his prudence ; and he found it im- 
 possible to resist a jest. It must bo added that no 
 writer of the time indulged more habitually in coarse, 
 revolting, and indecent imagery ; that he delighted in 
 a strain of ribald abuse peculiarly unbecoming in 
 a clergyman ; that he lived in an atmosphere deeply 
 impregnated with scepticism ; and that he frequently 
 expressed a strong dislike for his profession. In one 
 of his poems he describes himself as 
 
20 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 A clcrg3Tnan of special noto 
 For shunning those of his ovrn coat. 
 Which made liis brethren of the gown 
 Take care betimes to run him down. 
 
 In aBothcr poem he says : 
 
 A genius in a rerorend gown 
 Will always keep its owner down ; 
 'Tis an unnatural conjunction, 
 And spoils the credit of the function. 
 
 And as, of old, mathematicians 
 Were by the vulgar thought magicians, 
 So academic dull ale-drinkers 
 Pronounce all men of wit free-thinkers. 
 
 At tlic same time, while it must be admitted that 
 Swift was far from being a model clergyman, it is, I 
 conceive, a complete misapprehension to regard him as 
 an infidel. He was admirably described by St. John 
 as ' a hypocrite reversed.' He disguised as far as pos- 
 sible his religion and his affections, and took a morbid 
 pleasure in parading the harsher features of his uature. 
 If we bear tliis in mind, the facts of his life seem en- 
 tirely incompatible with the hypothesis of habitual 
 concealed unbelief. I do not allude merely to tlic 
 scrupulousness with which he discharged his functions 
 as a clergyman, to his increasing his duties by reading 
 prayers on Wednesdays and Fridays at Laracor, and 
 daily at St. Patrick's, to liis administering tlie Sacra- 
 ment every week, and paying the most unremitting 
 attention to his choir, and to all other matters con- 
 nected with his deanery. What I would insist on 
 especially are the many instances of concealed religion 
 that were discovered by his friends. Delany had been 
 weeks in his house before he found out that he had 
 family prayers every morning ^dth his servants. In 
 Loncon he rose early to attend public worship at an 
 
ins ALLEGED SCEPTICISM. 21 
 
 hour when he might escape the notice of his friends 
 Though he "was never a rich man he is said to hav6 
 systematically allotted a third of his income to the 
 poor ; and he continued his unostentatious charity 
 when his extreme misanthropy and his extreme avarice 
 must have rendered it peculiarly trying. He was 
 observed in his later years, when it was found neces- 
 sary to w^atch him, piu-suing his private devotions with 
 the most undeviating regularity; and some of his 
 letters, written under circumstances of agonising sorrow, 
 contain religious expressions of the most touching 
 character. 
 
 That he would have been a sceptic if he had not 
 been a clergyman is very probable ; but this is no dis- 
 paragement to his sincerity. It is impossible for any 
 man to throw himself into a profession without the 
 habits, associations, and interests of that profession 
 giving a very real, though perhaps unconscious, bias to 
 his judgment. Few persons can have mixed much with 
 the world without meeting men who are wholly inca- 
 pable of the hypocrisy of professing what they do not 
 believe, but of whom at the same time it may be safely 
 affirmed that their opinions would have been very dif- 
 ferent if their judgment had not been in some degree 
 refracted and their natural tendencies checked by pro- 
 fessional interests and habits. Swift always flung him- 
 self more fully than he allowed into his clerical pro- 
 fession ; and, as I have already observed, the advocacy 
 of the High Church theory of government was the con- 
 stant labour of his life. He employed his own peculiar 
 talent of ridicule continually against the adversaries 
 of his creed, and at least brought the preponderance 
 of wit to the side of orthodoxy ; and he never forgot 
 ecclesiastical interests when he was in power. He 
 obtained for the Irish clergy the coveted boon of the 
 
22 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 remission of the first fruits. The building of fifty new 
 churches in London, under tlie ministry of Harley, 
 was one of his suggestions. His ' Proposal for the Ad- 
 vancement of Religion,' his admirable letter to a young 
 clergyman on the qualities that are requisite in his 
 profession, the singularly beautiful prayers which he 
 wrote for the use of Stella when she was dying, are all 
 worthy of a higli place in religious literature ; and 
 although, as he said himself, his sermons were too like 
 pamphlets, they are full of good sense and sound piety 
 admirably and decorously expressed. Of the most po- 
 litical of them — that ' On Doing Good ' — Burke has said 
 that it ' contains perhaps the best motives to patriotism 
 that were ever delivered within so small a compass.' 
 
 It must be added that the coarseness for which Swift 
 has been so often and so justly censured is not the 
 coarseness of vice. He accumulates images of a kind 
 that most men would have sedulously avoided, but 
 there is nothing sensual in his writings ; he never 
 awakens an impure curiosity, or invests guilt with a 
 meretricious charm. His writings in this respect arc 
 wholly different from those of Byron, or Sterne, or of 
 French novelists ; and it may be safely affirmed that 
 no one has ever been allured to vicious com-ses by 
 reading them. He is often very repulsive and very 
 indecent, but his faults in this respect are rather those 
 of taste than of morals. 
 
 It was not till the year 1713 that Swift's friends 
 succeeded in obtaining for him the Deanery of St. 
 Patrick's. The appointment was regarded bot]i by him 
 and by them as being far below wliat he might have 
 expected, for its pecuniary value was not great, and 
 it implied separation from all his friends, and residence 
 in a country which was then considered the most im- 
 en viable abode for a man of genius. He immediately 
 
chahacter of oxfohd. 23 
 
 went over to Ireland, intending to remain there for 
 some time, but 'was in a few days recalled by his poli- 
 tical friends. An open breach had broken out between 
 the Ministers, and the G-overnment seemed on the verge 
 of dissolution. It would be difficult, indeed, to con- 
 ceive two men less capable of co-operating with cordi- 
 ality than Harley and St. John, or, to give them the 
 titles they had by this time acquired, than Oxford and 
 Bolingbroke. 
 
 Oxford was a man of very moderate abilities and of 
 very unfortunate manners. Frigid, reserved, and 
 formal, he was not popular with any but his most in- 
 timate friends, and his fatal habit of procrastination 
 paralysed the energies of the Government. He con- 
 cealed, liowever, beneath a cold exterior an affectionate 
 nature ; his private life w\as unusually pure ; he showed 
 at different periods of his career an admirable forti- 
 tude under adversity and a rare moderation in pro- 
 sperity ; and he was one of tlie most liberal and 
 enlightened patrons of literature who have ever di- 
 rected the government of England. Without any of 
 the brilliancy of an orator, or any of the prescience of 
 a great statesman, he maintained, without much diffi- 
 culty, his position at the head of his party, for he 
 possessed many of the qualities that win confidence in 
 England, and especially among the country gentry and 
 clergy, who constitute the strength of the Tory party. 
 A good private character, moderate views, industry, 
 and business habits weighed more with these classes 
 than the splendid abilities of Bolingbroke, and a 
 certain affectation of mystery, which he often a?sumed, 
 in some degree enhanced his reputation for wisdom. 
 
 His colleague, and at last competitor, was one of the 
 most brilliant and one of the most untrustworthy 
 statesmen who have ever appeared in English public 
 
24 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 life. The son of a worthless and dissipated character 
 who had fallen in a duel, St. John had been early 
 tllro^vn upon the world, surrounded by all the asso- 
 ciations of vice, and endowed by nature with gifts 
 almost as splendid as have ever been united in a single 
 man. With a person of singular beauty, and with a 
 rare charm of manner, he possessed passions so fervid 
 that neither fame nor pleasure could satiate them, and 
 a genius that was equally adapted to sway a senate 
 and to captivate a heart. He plunged with reckless 
 impetuosity into the life of dissipation that opened 
 before him, and, in an age of libertines, was conspi- 
 cuous as a libertine. Yet even then he found time 
 to amass stores of varied learning and to lay the 
 foundation of those studious habits which were the 
 consolation and the glory of his later years.^ As an 
 orator he was, by the confession of all his contempo- 
 raries, incomparably the foremost of his day, and his 
 writings, thougli now but little read, are among the 
 
 ' In ono of the most beautiful of his later Essays he gives us the 
 following sketch of his habits : 
 
 ' Not ouly a love of study and a desire of knowledge must have grown 
 up with us, but such an industrious application likewise as requires tlie 
 whole vigour of the mind to bo exerted in the pursuit of truth through 
 long trains of ideas, and all those dark recesses where man, not God, 
 has hid it. This love and this desire I have felt all my life, and I am 
 not quite a stranger to this industry and application. There has been 
 something always ready to whisper in my ear whilst I ran the course of 
 pleasure and of business, — 
 
 " Solve senescentem mature sanus cquum." 
 
 But my genius, unlike the demon of Socrates, whispered so softly, that 
 very often I heard him not in the hurry of those passions by which I was 
 transported. Some calmer moments there were : in tliem I hiearkened 
 to liim. Reflection had often its turn, and the love of study and the 
 desire of knowledge never quite abandoned me. I am not, therefore, 
 entirely unprepared for the life I will lead, and it is not without reason 
 that I promise myself more satisfjiction in the latter part of it than I 
 ever knew in the former.' — True Use of liciiremcnt and Study. 
 
CnAllACTEIl OF BOLINGBHOKE. 25 
 
 most perfect models of English prose. Of the reputa- 
 tion he enjoyed with the best judges of his own gene- 
 ration and of that which immediately followed, it is 
 sufficient to say that the elder Pitt expressed a wish 
 for the recovery of one speech of Bolingbroke rather 
 than any lost work of antiquity ; that Chesterfield pro- 
 nounced his written style ecjual to that of Cicero, and 
 declared that he would rather his son could attain it 
 than tliat he should master all tlie learning of the 
 universities ; that Pope made his pliilosophy the basis 
 of the noblest philosophical poem in the language. 
 Yet notwithstanding his brilliant and varied talents, 
 iiotwithsta,nding a great tenacity of purpose, which he 
 displayed chiefly in the latter part of his career, the 
 life of Bolingbroke was in a great degree a failure. 
 In some respects he was singularly unfortunate. The 
 sudden death of the Queen, and, at a later period, the 
 death of the Prince of Wales, baffled his calculations 
 in two of the most critical periods of his life. The 
 indecision and procrastination of Oxford paralysed his 
 energies in one portion of his career, and the bigoted 
 folly of the Pretender consigned him to inactivity in 
 another. But the chief cause of his failure was his own 
 character. It was the restless spirit of intrigue which 
 led him to plot against his colleague, and to enter into 
 relations with the Pretender. It was the notorious 
 dissipation of his private Iif(i and the laxity of his 
 opinions, which deprived him of the confidence of his 
 own party and of that of the great majority of the 
 English people. 
 
 A rupture between two such statesmen was inevi- 
 table. Bolingbroke occupied a position subordinate 
 to Oxford in the Ministry ; he had been only created 
 a Viscount when Oxford was created an Earl. His 
 ambition had been perpetually trammelled by Oxford's 
 8 
 
26 JONATHAN SWIFT 
 
 procrastination, and his consciousness of superior genius 
 irritated by Oxford's haughtiness ; and the consequence 
 of all this was, that he conceived a strong dislike to 
 his colleague, which at length deepened into an intense 
 hatred. It is no slight proof of Swift's force of clia- 
 racter that he could control two such men, or of the 
 charm of his society that he could retain the affection 
 of both. Personally, he seems to have been especially 
 attached to Oxford ; while politically he was inclined 
 to agree with Bolingbroke, that a more energetic line 
 of policy was the only means by which the Tory party 
 could be saved. 
 
 In truth, the position of the Government became 
 every week more desperate. The storm of popular 
 indignation, which had been lulled for a time by ' Tlio 
 Conduct of the Allies,' broke out afresh with tenfold 
 vio'our on the conclusion of the Peace of Utrecht. The 
 
 o 
 
 long duration of the war, the numerous Powers engaged 
 in it, and the many complications that had arisen in 
 its progress, rendered the task of the JNIinisters so 
 peculiarly difficult that it would have been easy to 
 have attacked any peace framed under such circum- 
 stances, however consummate the wisdom with which 
 its provisions had been framed. The Peace of I[trecht 
 left England incontestably the first Power of Europe, 
 arrested an expenditure which had been adding rapidly 
 to the national debt, and began one of the most 
 prosperous periods of English history. But, on the 
 other hand, it was undoubtedly negotiated more througli 
 party than through national motives ; it terminated 
 a long series of splendid victories, and while it saved 
 France from almost complete destruction, it failed 
 to obtain the object for which the war had been 
 begiui. The cro>vii of Spain remained upon the head 
 of Philip, and the Catalonians, who had risen to arms 
 
THE PEACE OF UTKECnT. 27 
 
 relying upon English support, were left without any 
 protection for their local liberties. Any peace which 
 terminated a war of such continual and brilliant suc- 
 cess would have been unpopular, and, although the 
 Peace of Utrecht was certainly advantageous to tlie 
 country, some of tlie objections to it were real and 
 serious, while its free-trade clauses raised a fierce storm 
 of ignorant or selfish anger among the mercantile 
 classes. Besides this, the Church enthusiasm, which, 
 after the prosecution of Saclieverell, had borne tlie 
 Tories to power, had begun to subside. Tlie question 
 of dynasty was still uncertain. The leading Tory 
 Ministers were justly suspected of intriguing with the 
 Pretender. They were botli, tliough on different grounds 
 and with different classes, unpopular, and they were 
 profoundly disunited at the very time when their union 
 was most necessary. 
 
 Swift, on his arrival from Ireland, induced them to 
 co-operate once more, and he also wrote a defence 
 of the Peace of Utrecht. Having accomplished this, 
 he returned to his deanery, leaving his pamphlet in 
 the hands of the ]\Iinisters ; but they, being unable 
 to agree about the light in which some transactions 
 connected with the j^cace were to be represented, 
 withheld the publication, and shortly after quarrelled 
 as^ain. Swift a^rain came to England, but this time 
 his interposition proved unavailing. He then retired 
 from the political scene, and occupied himself in 
 jireparing a public Pemonstrance addressed to the 
 ^Ministers, blaming the want of harmony in their coun- 
 cils, and the indecision and procrastination manifest 
 in their actions. Before, however, this Pemonstrance 
 was published, the news arrived that Bolingbroke, 
 by the assistance of Lady ^lasham, had effected the 
 disgrace of Oxford, and had obtained the chief place 
 
28 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 in the Ministry. Swift received a letter from Lady 
 Masham (who liad always been his warm friend), 
 couched in the most affectionate terms, imploring 
 ]iim to continue to uphold the Ministry by his counsel 
 and by liis pen, and enclosing an order upon tho 
 Treasury for lOOOL for the necessary expenses of in 
 duction into his deanery, which Oxford had promised, 
 but, with his usual procrastination, had delayed. He 
 received at the same time a letter from Oxford, re- 
 questing his presence in the country, where, as the 
 fallen statesman wrote with a touching pathos, he was 
 going ' alone.' Swift did not hesitate for a moment 
 between the claims of friendship and the allurements 
 of ambition ; he determined to accompany Oxford. 
 
 Events were now succeeding each other with startling 
 rapidity. Eolingbroke had been only four days Prime 
 Minister wlien the Tory party learned with consterna- 
 tion the death of the Queen, and the consequent down- 
 fall of their ascendency. Walpole, who succeeded to 
 the chief power, determined to institute a series of 
 prosecutions for treason against his predecessors. Bo- 
 lingbrokc fled from England, and was condemned while 
 absent. Ormond was impeached. Oxford was thrown 
 into the Tower, where he remained for nearly two 
 years, but was at last tried and acquitted. Swift re- 
 tired to Ireland. A few vague rumours prevailed of 
 his liaving been concerned in Jacobite intrigues, but 
 they never took any consistency, or seem to have 
 deserved any attention. ' Dean Swift,' wrote Arbutli- 
 not at this time, ' keeps up his noble spirit, and, though 
 like a man knocked down, you may behold him still 
 with a stern countenance, and aimino' a blow at his 
 adversaries.' The misfortimes of liis friends, however, 
 and especially the imprisonment of Oxford, profoundly 
 affected him, and he even wrote to the fallen states- 
 
TAMESSA. 29 
 
 man, asking permission to accompany him to prison. 
 He was also at this time, more than once, openly 
 insulted by some Whigs in Dublin, and he had at 
 first serious difficulties with tlie minor clergy of his 
 deanery. 
 
 But a far more serious blow was in store for him — 
 a blow that not only destroyed liis peace for a season, 
 but left an indelible stigma on his character. When in 
 London, he had formed a friendship Avith INIiss Van- 
 homrigh (better kno^vn by the name of Vanessa), a 
 young lady of fortune very remarkable for her abilities, 
 though not for her personal beauty. He seems to have 
 been much captivated by licr engaging manners and by 
 her brilliant talents ; he constantly visited her house, 
 and assisted and directed her in her studies. The pos- 
 sibility of her becoming seriously attached to him ap- 
 pears never for a moment to have flashed through his 
 mind. He had a dangerous fondness for acting the 
 part of monitor or instructor to young ladies of intelli- 
 gence and grace. He was himself extremely little 
 susceptible to the amatory passion, and, being at this 
 time between forty and fifty, he never seems to liave 
 suspected that he could inspire it. He had long been 
 accustomed to a purely intellectual intercourse with 
 Stella, and had probably forgotten how seldom such 
 intercourse retains its first cliaracter, and how closely 
 admiration is allied to passion. It was seldom, indeed, 
 that his commanding features — his eye, which Poj^e 
 described as ' azure as the heavens' — and the charm of 
 his manner and of his wit, failed to exercise a powerful 
 influence on those around him. That spell which had 
 caused Lady ]Mashara to burst- into tears when an- 
 no\mcing the failure of liis ambition; which had 
 controlled Oxford and Bolingbroke in the midst of their 
 dissensions ; which had attached to him so many men 
 
30 JONATHAN S^'IFT. 
 
 of genius by a tie that neither his coarseness nor ill- 
 temper nor misfortunes could break, acted with a fear- 
 ful power on his young and enthusiastic pupil. She 
 loved him with all the fervour of an impassioned 
 nature, and an almost adoring reverence blended with 
 and enhanced her affection. The distraction she mani- 
 fested in her studies betrayed her emotions, and she 
 was compelled to confess her love. 
 
 Up to this point the conduct of Swift can hardly be 
 taxed with any graver fault than imprudence, but it 
 now became profoundly culpable. It is evident that 
 he had been much attracted by Vanessa, and the im- 
 pression she made is curiously sho^^^l by the increasing 
 coldness of his Journal to Stella from the early part of 
 1712, when his acquaintance with her rival began. On 
 the declaration of Vanessa he was filled, as he assures 
 us, with 'shame, disappointment, grief, surprise;' but 
 he shrank with a fatal indecision from the plain and 
 lionourable course of decisively severing the connec- 
 tion. He was unwilling to break loose from a com- 
 panionship he had found so pleasant. He was flattered, 
 as well as surprised, at the passion he had inspired. 
 He miscalculated and misunderstood the force of an 
 affection he had never felt, and having always made a 
 mystery of his connection with Stella, he was probably 
 imwilling to divulge it. A shameful system of tem- 
 porising was thus begun, which lasted for no less than 
 eleven years. He appears to have attempted, without 
 giving up the connection, to discourage the advances of 
 his pupil, and he probably wrote the poem of ' Cade- 
 nus and Vanessa ' with that end, though the compli- 
 ments he paid to her charms must have done much 
 to counteract the effect of his professions of insensibi- 
 lity. \Vhen he went to Ireland to Ins deanery, Vanessa 
 — availing herself of tlic excuse tliat she had projoerty 
 
VANESSA. 31 
 
 ill that countiy — insisted, in spite of Swill's rcmon- 
 Btrance, in following him. He cautioned her more 
 than once, and with apparent sincerity, on the impru- 
 dence of the step she was taking-, but still the friend- 
 ship was not broken. In the meantime the jealousy 
 of Stella wae aroused. It appears to liave preyed upon 
 her health, and it inspired her with a beautiful little 
 poem, which is still preserved. Her prior claim w^as 
 indisputable, and there is very strong evidence that in 
 order to satisfy her a marriage was privately celebrated 
 in 1716. Vanessa continued writing passionate, sup- 
 plicating letters to Swift, imploring him to marry her. 
 He wrote in reply, sometimes with a coldness of which 
 she bitterly complained. He sometimes assumed an 
 air of repulsion in the interviews he still occasionally 
 had with her. He endeavoured to divert her mind bv 
 surrounding her with society, and he openly counte- 
 nanced a suitor who was seeking her hand ; but he 
 never plainly undeceived her, and the strange and some- 
 what unnatural passion she liad conceived for a man of 
 more tlian fifty continued unwavering and unabated. 
 The death of her sister, leaving her alone in the world, 
 contributed to intensify it. She retired to Celbridge, 
 a secluded country place which she possessed, and there 
 continued to nourish the flame. In letter after letter 
 of feverish impatience she endeavoured to move him, 
 and at length, irritated by his delay, she wTote to 
 Stella. Stella gave the letter i-o the Dean, who re- 
 ceived it with a paroxysm of passion. He rode to 
 Celbridge, entered the room where Vanessa was sitting, 
 and, darting at lier a look of concentrated anger, flung 
 down tlie letter at her feet and departed without utter- 
 ing a word. She saw at once that her fate was sealed. 
 She languished away, and in a few weeks died. Before 
 her death she revoked the will she had made in favour 
 
32 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 of Swift, and ordered the publication of ' Cadenus and 
 Vanessa,' tlie poem in which he had immortalised licr 
 love. Swift fled to the country, and remained for two 
 months buried in the most absolute seclusion. 
 
 I turn with pleasure from this shameful and melan- 
 choly episode to the general tenor of Swift's life in 
 Ireland. The dissensions which had at first existed in 
 his deanery were speedily composed, and he carried on 
 his clerical duties with unremitting energy. He lived 
 in a somewhat parsimonious manner, lodging with a 
 clergyman, but keeping open house twice a week at 
 the deanery. He soon drew around him many ac- 
 quaintances and a few friends, tlie principal of whom 
 were Delany, who was one of the fellows of Trinity 
 College, and a schoolmaster named Sheridan, the 
 father of his biographer. Slieridan was in many ways 
 a remarkable character. He was the head of a family 
 which has continued for more than a century to be 
 prolific in genius, having produced a great actor and a 
 great poetess, as well as one of the very greatest of 
 modern orators. He was in many respects a perfect 
 type of the Irish character; recklessly improvident, 
 with boundless good-nature and the most boisterous 
 spirits ; full of wit, of fire, and of a certain kind of 
 genius. He ruined his prospects of promotion by 
 preaching from pure forgetfiilness from the text ' Suf- 
 ficient unto the day is the evil thereof on the anni- 
 versary of the accession of the House of Hanover; and 
 all through his life he mismanaged his interests and 
 talents. He carried on a continual warfare with Swift 
 in the shape of puns, charades, satirical poems, and 
 practical jokes ; and there is something very winning 
 in the boyish and careless delight with which Swift 
 threw himself into these contests. We owe to them 
 many of his best comic poems, and many of the most 
 
CONDITION OF IRELAND. 33 
 
 amusing anecdotes of his life. It was not to be ex- 
 pected, however, tliat he could withdraw his attention 
 from political aflfiiirs, and he soon entered upon that 
 political career which has given him his place in the 
 history of Ireland. 
 
 The position of Ireland was at this time one of the 
 most deplorable that can be conceived. The irrecon- 
 cileable enmity subsisting between the two sections * 
 of tlie people had issued in the ruin of both parties. 
 The Roman Catholics had been completely prostrated 
 by the battle of the Boyne and by the surrender of 
 Limerick. Tliey had stipulated indeed for religious 
 liberty, but tlie treaty of Limerick was soon shame- 
 lessly violated, and it found no avengers. Sarsfield 
 and his brave companions had abandoned a country 
 where defeat left no opening for their talents, and 
 liad joined the Irish Brigade which liad been formed 
 in the service of France. They carried with them 
 something of the religious fervour of the old Cove- 
 nanters, combined with the military enthusiasm so 
 characteristic of Ireland, and they repaid tlio hos- 
 pitality of the French by an unflinching and devoted 
 zeal. In the campaign of Savoy, on the walls of 
 Cremona, on tlie plains of Almanza and of Landen, 
 their courage shone conspicuously. Even at Ramilies 
 and at Blenheim they gained lam-els amid tlie disasters 
 of their friends, while at Fontenoy their charge shat- 
 tered the victorious column of the English, and is said 
 to have wrung from the English monarch the exclama- 
 tion, ' Cursed be the laws that deprive me of such 
 subjects !' But while the Irish Komau Catholics abroad 
 found free scope for their ambition in the service of 
 
 > The two religions ranrk the lines of the antagonism, but do not 
 seem to have Leen the cause of it. Tho war was one of races, antl not of 
 creeds. 
 
34 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 France, those "who remained at home had simk into a 
 condition of utter degradation. All Catholic energy 
 and talent had emigrated to foi-eign lands, and penal 
 laws cf atrocious severity crushed the Catholics who 
 remained. The Protestants were regarded as an 
 English colony ; any feeling of independence that 
 appeared among them was sedulously repressed, and 
 their interests were habitually sacrificed to those of 
 England. The Irish Parliament was little more than a 
 court for registering Englisli decrees, for it had no 
 power of passmg, or even^ discussing, an y Bil l which 
 had not been_p'eyiously approved and certified under 
 the Great Seal of England. Irisjimen were_sjstemati- 
 callv_excl uded from the most lucrative places. The 
 Viceroys were usually absent for three-fourthsof their 
 terms of office. A thir d of the rent s of the country 
 was said to be expended in England, and an abject 
 poverty prevailed. But perhaps the most deplorable 
 characteristic of the time was the complete absence of 
 all public feeling, of all hope, of all healthy interest 
 in political affairs. The Irish nation had as yet knoA\Ti 
 no weapon but the sword. It was broken, and they 
 sank into the apathy of despair. 
 
 The co mmerci al and ind us trial c o ndition of the 
 c ountry was, if possible, more de plorabl e than its 
 political conditi on, and was the result of a series of 
 E ngli sh measu res w liich for deliberate and selfis h 
 tyranny c ould hardly be surpassed. iJ ntil the feign 
 of Charles If. the Irish shared the commercial pri- 
 vileges of the English ; but as the island had not 
 been really conquered till the reign of Elizabeth, and 
 as its people were till then scarcely removed from bar- 
 barism, the progress w^as necessarily slow. In the early 
 Stuart reigns, however, comparative repose and good 
 government were followed by a sudden rush of pro- 
 
COMMERCIAL DISABILITIES. 35 
 
 Bperity. The land was chiefly pasture, for which it was 
 admirably adapted ; the export of live cattle to Eng- 
 land was carried on upon a large scale, and it became 
 a chief source of Irish wealth. The English land- 
 owners, however, took the alarm. They complained 
 that Irish rivalry in the cattle market was reducing 
 English rents ; and accordingly, by an Act which__was 
 first j)assed in 1663, and was made perp etual^ in 1 6J663 
 t he importation of c attle i nto Engl and wa s forbidde n. 
 
 The effect of a measure of this kind, levelled at tl)e 
 principal article of the commerce of the nation, was 
 necessarily most disastrous. The profound modifica- 
 tion which itjntroduced into the course of Irish in- 
 dustry is sufficiently shown by the estimate of Sir W. 
 Petty, who declares tliat before this statiite three- 
 fourths of the trade of Ireland was with England, but 
 not o ne-fou rtiroTiTsince that time. In the v ery y ear 
 when this Bill was jpassed another measure was taken 
 110 t_less fatal to the interests of the countiy. Injthc 
 fi rst Navigat ion Act, Ireland was placed on th e sam e 
 terms as Enaland : but in the Act as amended in 
 1663 she was omitted, and was thus_deprived of the 
 w hole colonial trade . With the exception of a very 
 few specified articles, no European merchandise could 
 be imported into the British colonies except directly 
 from England, in ships built in England, and manned 
 chiefly by English sailors. No articles, with a few 
 exceptions, could be brought from tlie colonies to 
 Europe without being first unladen in England. In 
 16.70 this ex clusion of IreLmd was confirmed, and in 
 16^6 it was re ndered more st ringen t, forjt was enacted 
 that no^oo^ds of any sort could _beJmported directly 
 from the colonies to "Ire land. It will be remembered 
 that at this time the chief Ikitisli colonies were those 
 of America, and that Ireland, by licr geographical 
 
30 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 position, was naturally of all countries most fitted fur 
 the American trade. 
 
 As far, then, as the colonial trade was concerned, 
 Ireland at this time gained nothing Avhatever by her 
 connection with England. To other countries, how- 
 ever, her ports were still open, and in time of peace 
 her foreign commerce was unrestricted, "^^^en for- 
 bidden to export their cattle_to_Englandj t he Irish 
 turned their land chiefljintosheep-walks, and proceeded 
 energetically to manufact ure the wool. Some faint 
 traces of this manufacture may be detected from an 
 early period, and Lord Strafford, when governing Ire- 
 land, had mentioned it with a characteristic comment. 
 Speaking of the Irish he says, ' There was little or no 
 manufactures amongst them, but some small beginnings 
 towards a clothing trade, Avh ich I ha d, and so should 
 still dis courag e a ll I could, unl ess other wi^ directed 
 by his Majesty and their Lordships. ... It might be 
 feared they would beat us out of the trade itself by 
 underselling us, which they were well able to do.' 
 With the exception, however, of an abortive effort by 
 this Governor, the Irish wool manufacture was in no 
 degree impeded, and was indeed mentioned with special 
 favour in many Acts of Parliament; and it was in 
 a great degree on the faitli of this long-continued 
 legislative sanction tliat it was so greatly expanded. 
 The poverty of Ireland, the low state of the civilisa- 
 tion of a large proportion of its inhabitants, the effects 
 of the civil Avars which had so recently convulsed it, and 
 the exclusion of its products from the English colonies, 
 were doubtless great obstacles to manufactiuing en- 
 terprise ; but, onjthe other hand, Irish wool v /as very 
 good, living was_cheaper and taxes were lighte r than 
 in England, a spirit of real industriaLenerS)^ began to 
 pervade the country, and a considerable number of 
 
COMMERCIAL DISABILITIES. 37 
 
 English manufiictiircrs came over to colonise it. There 
 appeared for a time every probability that the Irish 
 would become an industrial nation, and had manufac- 
 tures arisen, their whole social, political, and economical 
 condition would have been changed. But English 
 jealousy again in^terpojcd. By an Act of crushiiigjmd 
 unprecedented severity;, which was introduced in 1698 
 a nd carried i n 169 9, the export of the^Insh^ woollen 
 manufactures, not only to England, but also to all 
 o tlier count ries, was absolutely forbidden. 
 
 The effects of this Ine asu re A vere te rribl e almost 
 beyond c oncept ion. The mai n industry^^f_ tlie country 
 was at a blow completely and irretrievably annihilate d^ 
 A vast population was thrown into a condition of utter 
 destitution. Several thousands of manufacturers left 
 the country, and carried their skill and enterprise to 
 Germany, France, and Spain. The western and southern 
 districts of Ireland are said to have been nearly de- 
 populated. Emigration to America began on a large 
 scale, and the blow was so severe that long after, 
 a kind of chronic famine prevailed. In 1707 the Irish 
 Government was unable to pay its military establish- 
 ments, and the national resources were so small that a 
 debt of less than 100,000?. caused the gravest anxiety. 
 Fortunately for tlie country, it was found impossible 
 to guard the ports, and a vast smuggling export of 
 wool to France was carried on, in wliich all classes 
 participated, and wliicli somewhat alleviated the dis- 
 tress, but contributed powerfully, with other influences, 
 to educate the people in a contempt for law. In- 
 dustrial enterprise and confidence^ were utterly jje- 
 strojed. By a simple act of authority, at a time when 
 the Irish Parliament was not sittinj;, the English 
 I*arliament had suppressed tlie chief form of Irish com- 
 merce, solely and avowedly because it had so succeeded 
 
38 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 as to appear a formidable competitor; and there was 
 no reason why a similar step should not he taken 
 whenever any other Irish manufacture began to flourish. 
 'I am sorry to find,' wrote an author in 1729, 'so 
 universal a despondency amongst us in respect to 
 trade. Men of all degrees ^ive up the thought of 
 improving our commerce, and conclude that the restric- 
 tions under which we are laid are so insurmountable 
 that any attempt on that head would be vain and 
 fruitless.' ' Mol^neux was impelled, chiefly by these 
 restrictions, to_ raise the banner of Irish legislati ve in- 
 dependence, ' Ireland,' wrote Swift, ' is tlie only king- 
 dom I ever heard or read of, either in ancient or 
 modern stor}^, which was denied the liberty of exporting 
 their native commodities and manufactures wherever 
 tliey pleased, except to countries at war with their 
 own prince or State. Yet this privilege, by the su- 
 periority of mere power, is refused us in the most 
 momentous parts of commerce ; besides an Act of 
 Navigation, to which we never assented, pinned down 
 upon us, and rigorously executed.' I t ma y be_, a dded, 
 t hat Daveua nt, who was at this time tlie_chicfJEngHsh 
 writer on economical matters, warmly ap proved the 
 restriction on Irish wool. 
 
 There is one consideration, however, -which should 
 not be omitted in estimating the English policy at 
 tliis period. The inte ntion of Parliam ent towards 
 Ireland was not purely malevolent, and the address to 
 William in 1G98 prayed him to take measures ' for th e 
 d iscourag ing the woollen and_cn couragin g the line n 
 manufa ctures in Irel and,' to wliich, it was added, ' we 
 fihall always be ready to give our utmost assistance.' 
 The reply of the King echoed the address. ' I shall do 
 
 ' An Essay on tlic Trade of Ireland by the auUior of • Seasonable 
 Remarks' (1729). 
 
COMMERCIAL POLICY OF ENGLAND. 39 
 
 all,' lie said, ' that in me lies to discourage the woollen 
 trade iu Ireland, and encourage the linen manufacture 
 and promote the trade of England.' The professed 
 intention of the Legislature was t o form a kind o f 
 c ompa ct, leaving the woollen trade in the poss ession 
 of England, and the linen trade in that o f Ireland . 
 
 Upon this compact there are several comments^o bo 
 made. In the first place it is very obvious to remark 
 that the fact of a nation having created by its industry 
 two forms of manufacture is no possible reason for sup- 
 pressing one of them ; and, as a matter of fact, both 
 liad been encouraged by many previous Acts. No one 
 would contend that because the cotton and iron ma- 
 nufixctures are both flourishing in England, the de- 
 struction of one of them would be other than a fearful 
 calamity. In truth , however, t here was no kind_of 
 e quality between the trade that^Avas permitted,__and 
 that which was suppre ssed, and no real re ciprocity in 
 tli e dealings of t lie t wo natio ns. The woollen trade 
 was tlie chief form of Irish industiy. The linen manu- 
 facture was as yet so restricted tliat in 1700 its ex- 
 ports only amounted to a little more than 14,000^. 
 The Englisli utterly suppressed the Irish woollen 
 manufacture in order to reserve that manufacture to 
 themselves ; but tlie English and Scotch continued as 
 usual their manufacture of linen. In 1G99, when tlie 
 Irish woollen trade was annihilated, no measure what- 
 ever was taken for the benefit of the Irish linen 
 manufacture; and it was not until 1705 that, at the 
 urgent petition of the Irish Parliament, the Irish were 
 allowed to export their white and brown linens, and 
 these only, to the English colonies, but they were not 
 permitted to bring any colonial produce in their re- 
 turn. This concession, whicli placed one single branch 
 of the linen trade, as far as export to the plantations 
 
40 JONATHAN STVIFT. 
 
 was concerned, in the position which all Irish goods 
 occupied to the close of the Protectorate, was for many 
 years the sole compensation which England made for 
 the disastrous measure of 1699 ; and^Hs a s ignifican t 
 fact t hat it was intencled_simply for tlie benefit of_the 
 Protestants. The linen trade had been founded, or at 
 least greatly extended, by French Protestant refugees, 
 and had taken root chiefly in the Protestant portion of 
 the island, and tlie preamble of the Bill for its relief, 
 after reciting the restrictive Act of 1663, proceeds: 
 ' Forasmuch as t he Protestant inter est of Ireland ought 
 to be supported by giving the utmo st encouragement 
 to The linen manufactures of t hat ki ngdom, with dj_ie 
 regard to her Majesty's good. Protestant subjects of her 
 said_kingdomj be it enacted,' &c. At a later period, it 
 is true, England was more liberal to this trade. From 
 1743 bounties were given for its encouragement, whicli, 
 tliough never amounting in a single year to much more 
 tlian 13,000?., and usually falling below that amount, 
 were a sig-n of some solicitude for its interests ; but^_tiU_ 
 n ear the end of the century E ngla nd r eserved for herself 
 a practical monopoly of one branch even of this favoured^ 
 trade. All dy ed o r cheq uered Irish linens were excluded 
 from the colonies till^l777, and_wcre subject toji^dut^ 
 amounting to prohibition if imported~t o England.^ 
 
 No one, I think, can folfow this subject without per- 
 ceiving how much liglit it throws upon the later his- 
 imj of Ireland, and upon the character of its people. 
 The successful prosecution of manufacturing industry 
 depends not merely on the accumiTlation of capital and 
 on natural advantages, but also and quite as much upon 
 the industrial habits of the people, and these are slowly 
 formed by many generations of uninterrupted labour. 
 In England the principal forms of manufacture can be 
 ' See Ilutcliinsou's ' Commercial Restraints of Ireli'.nd.' 
 
PRIMATE BOULTER. 41 
 
 (raced back in an un]»roken history to the time of the 
 Tudors. In_Ireland almost every leading indust ry was 
 c hecke d or a.nnihilated by la w, an d the linen, which 
 was the_only exception, has been successfu lly d c- 
 veloj^ed. The same policy that was pursued with re- 
 ference to Irish cattle and Irish wool was long after- 
 wards shown in other fields. Thus, to omit many 
 minor and partial restrictions, Ireland was prevented 
 by express enactments or by prohibitory^'duties from 
 exp orting _eitbcr_beeror malt to England, from im- 
 porting ho£sJ*n3mjinj_countryJ)ut England, from ex- 
 porting gl ass (o f whi ch she h a d begu n to manufacture 
 th e coarser kinds) to any country whatev er, from im - 
 p orting it from ^-anz country b u t England. 
 
 These last measures, however, belong to a period 
 later than that of Swift. During the time of his Irish 
 career, the management of affairs in Ireland was cliiefly 
 in the hands of Arch Hsliop E oulter, who occupied the 
 see of Armagh from 1724 to 1738, and whose corre- 
 spondence throws much curious and valuable liglitupon 
 the condition of the country. Boulter was an honest 
 but narrow man, extremely cliaritable to the poor, and 
 liberal to the extent of warmly advocating the endow- 
 ment of the Presbyterian clergy ; but he was a strenuous 
 supporter of the penal code, and the main object of 
 his policy was to prevent the rise of an Irish party. 
 His letters are chiefly on questions of money and pa- 
 tronage, and it is curious to observe how entirely all 
 religious motives appear to have been absent from his 
 mind in his innumerable recommendations for Church 
 dignities. Personal claims, and above all the fitness of 
 the candidate to carry out the English policy, seem to 
 have been in these cases the only elements considered. 
 His un iform policy was to diydde^the Irish Cathol ics an d 
 the Irish Protestants, to crush the former by disabling 
 
42 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 laws, to destroy the independence of tlie latter by con- 
 ferring the rnost lucrative and influential posts upon 
 Englishmen, and thus to make all Irish interests 
 stiictly subservient to those of England. The continual 
 burden of his letters is the necessity of sending over 
 Englishmen, to fill all important Irish posts. 'The 
 only way to keep things quiet here,' he writes, ' and 
 make them easy to the Ministry, is by filling the great 
 places with natives of England.' He complains bit- 
 terly that only nine of the twenty-two Irish bishops 
 were Englishmen, and urges the Ministers ' gradually 
 to get as many English on the bench here as can 
 decently be sent hither.' On the death of the Chan- 
 cellor, writing to the Duke of Newcastle, he speaks of 
 'the imeasiness we are under at the report that a 
 native of this place is like to be made Lord Chancellor.' 
 ' I must request of your Grace,' he adds, ' that you would 
 use your influence to have none but Englishmen put 
 into the great places here for the future.' When a 
 vacancy in the see of Dublin was likely to occur, he 
 writes : 'I am entirely of opinion that the new Arch- 
 >)ishop ought to be an Englishman either already on 
 the bench here or in England. As for a native of this 
 country, I can hardly doubt that, whatever his beha- 
 viour has been and his promises may be, when he is 
 once in that station he will put himself at the head of 
 the Irish interest in the Church at least, and he will 
 naturally carry with him the college and most of the 
 clergy here.' 
 
 It is not surprising that a policy of this kind should 
 have created sonie opposition among the Irish Pro- 
 testants, and many traces of dissatisfaction may be found 
 in the letters of Primate Boulter. The Protestants, 
 however, were too few and too dependent upon English 
 support, the Catholics were too prostrate, and public 
 
MOLYNEUX. 43 
 
 opinion was too feeble and too divided to be very 
 formidable, and nacasures of the grossest tyi'anny were 
 carried without resistance, and almost without protest. 
 There had been, however, one remarkable exception. 
 In 1698, when the measure for destroying the Irish 
 wool trade was under deliberation, Molyneux— one of 
 the members of Trinity College, an eminent man of 
 science, and the ' ingenious friend ' mentioned by Locke 
 in his essay — had published his famous ' Case of Ire- 
 land,' in which he asserted the full and sole competence 
 of the Iicrsh Parliament to legislate for Ireland. He 
 maintained that the Parliament of Ireland had naturally 
 and anciently all the prerogatives in Ireland which the 
 Engilsh Parliament possessed in England, and that the 
 subservience to which it had been reduced was merely 
 due to actTof usurpation. His arguments were chiefly 
 historical, and were those which were afterwards main- 
 tained by Flood and Grattan, and which eventually 
 triumphed in 1782. The position and ability of the 
 writer, and the extreme malevolence with which, in 
 commercial matters, English authority was at this time 
 employed, attracted to the Avork a large measure of 
 attention, and it was written in the most moderate, 
 decorous, and respectful language. The Government, 
 however, took the alarm; by order of the English 
 Parliament, it was burnt by tlie common hangman, and 
 the spirit it aroused speedily subsided. 
 
 Such was the condition of Irish politics and Irish 
 opinion when Swift c;,me over to his deanery. _ It is 
 not difficult to understand how intolerable it must 
 liave been to a man of his character and of his ante- 
 cedents. Accustomed during several years to exercise 
 a commanding influence upon the policy of the empire, 
 endowed beyond all living men with that kind of 
 literary talent which is most fitted to arouse and direct 
 
44 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 a great popular movement, and at the same time 
 embittered by disappointment and defeat, it would 
 have been strange if he had remained a passive spectator 
 of the scandalous and yet petty tyranny about him. 
 He had every personal and party motive to stimulate 
 him ; lie was capable of a very deep and genuine 
 patriotism ; and a burning hatred of injustice and op- 
 pression was the form which his virtue most naturally 
 assumed. 
 
 To this hatred, however, there was one melancholy 
 exception. He was always an ecclesiastic and a High 
 Churchman, imbued with the intolerance of his order. 
 For th e Catholics, as^ich, he did_simply nothing. 
 Neither in England when he was guiding the jMinistry, 
 nor in Ireland when he was leading the nation, did he 
 make any e ffort to prevent the infraction of the Treaty 
 of Limerick. He strenuously advocated the Test Act, 
 which excluded the Dissenters from office; and one of 
 his arguments in its favour was, that if it were repealed, 
 even the Catholics, by parity of reasoning, might claim 
 to be enfranchised. Tlie very existence of the Catholic 
 w orship in Ireland he hoped would some day be 
 destroyedby ItLW. His language on this subject- is 
 explicit and emphatic. ' Tlie Popish priests are all 
 registered, and without permission (which I hoj^je will 
 not be granted) they can have no successors, so that 
 the Protestant clergy will iind it perhaps no difficult 
 matter to bring great numbers over to the Church.' 
 
 He first turned his attention to the state of Irisli 
 manufactures. He published anonymousl}^, in 1720", 
 an admirable pamphlet on the subject, in which he 
 urged the people to meet the restrictions which had 
 been imposed on their trade by abstaining from im- 
 portation, using exclusively Irish products, and burning 
 everything that came from England — ' except the coaL' 
 
THE DRAriEIl'S LETTERS. "^5 
 
 He described tlie recent English policy in an ingenious 
 passage under the guise of the fable of ' Pallas and 
 Arachne.' 'Tlie goddess had heard of one Arachne, 
 ii young virgin vcVy famous for spinning and weaving. 
 They both met upon a trial of skill; and Pallas, 
 finding herself almost equalled in her own art, stung 
 with rage and envy, knocked her rival down, turned her 
 into a spider, enjoining her to spin and weave for ever 
 out of her own bowels, and in a very narrow compass.' 
 He concluded with an earnest appeal to the landlords 
 to liglitcn the rents, which were crushing so many 
 of thdr tenants. The pamphlet attracted very great 
 attention, but was immediately prosecuted, and Chief 
 Justice Whiteshed displayed the grossest partisanship 
 in endeavouring to intimidate the jury into giving a 
 verdict against H, but the printer ultimately remained 
 unpunished, and a shower of lampoons assailed the 
 
 judge. 
 
 The next productions of Swift were his famous 
 'Drapier's Letters.' Ireland had been for some time 
 suffering from the want of a sufficiently large copper 
 coinage! Walpole determined to remedy this want, 
 and accordingly gave a person named Wood a patent 
 for coining ^08,000?. in halfpence. The halfpence 
 were unquestionably wanted, and there is no real 
 ground for believing that they were inferior to the rest 
 of the copper coinage of the country ; but there were 
 other reasons why the project was both dangerous and 
 insulting. Though the measure was one profoundly 
 affecting Ir_ish interests, it wasjaken by the Ministers 
 withourconsulting the Lord Lieutenant or IrisliJPrivy 
 Council, or the Parliament, or anyone in the country. 
 It'Vas another aud_ a ^si:gnal_^ropf that Ireland had 
 boen reduced to complete subservience to England^and 
 thtLpatent was granted to a private individual by the 
 
46 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 influence of the Duchess of Kendal, the mistress of 
 the King-, and on the stipulation that she should 
 receive a large share of the profits. 
 
 It is impossible to justify morally the course which 
 Swift took in this matter, but it may be greatly 
 palliated, especially when we remember that he lived 
 in the age of Bolingbroke and "Walpole, when the 
 standard of political morality was far lower than at 
 present. The dignity and independence of the country 
 had been grossly outraged, and an infamous job had 
 been perpetrated, but it would have been hopeless to 
 raise an opposition simply on constitutional grounds. 
 Tlie Catholics were utterly crushed. A large pro- 
 portion of the Protestants were far too ignorant to 
 care for any mere constitutional question. Public 
 opinion was faint, dispirited, and divided, and tlie 
 ]iabit of servitude had passed into all classes. The 
 English party, occupying the most important posts, 
 disposing of great emoluments, and controlling the 
 courts of justice, were anxious to suppress every symp- 
 tom of opposition. The fate of tlie treatise of Moly- 
 neux, and of his own tract on Irish ^lanufactures, 
 was a sufficient warning, and it was plain tliat tlie 
 contemplated measure could only be resisted by a 
 strong national enthusiasm. A report that the coins 
 were below their nominal value had spread througli 
 tlie country, and was adopted by Parliament and em- 
 bodied in the resolutions of both Houses. Of tliis 
 report Swift availed himself. AVriting in the character 
 of a tradesman, and adopting with consummate skill 
 a style of popular argument consonant to his assumed 
 character, he commenced a series of letters in which he 
 asserted with the utmost assurance that all who took the 
 new coin would lose nearly elevenpence in a shilling, or, 
 as he afterwards maintained with a great parade of ac- 
 
THE dhapier's lettehs. 47 
 
 curacy, that tbirty-six of them would purchase a quart 
 of twopenny ale. He appealed alternately to every sec- 
 tion of the community, pointing out how their special 
 interests would be affected by its introduction, con- 
 cluding with the beggars, who were assured that the 
 coin selected for adulteration had been halfpence, in 
 order that they too might be ruined. The most 
 terrific panic was soon created. The Ministry en- 
 deavoured to allay it by a formal examination of the 
 coin at the Mint, and by a report issued by Sir I. 
 Newton ; but the time for such a measure had passed. 
 Swift combated the report in an exceedingly in- 
 genious letter, and the distrust of the people was far 
 too deep to be assuaged. 
 
 By this means the needful agitation was produced, 
 and it remained only to turn it into the national 
 channel. This was done by the famous Fourth Letter. 
 Swift began by deploring tlie general weakness and 
 subserviency of the people. ' Having,' he said, ' already 
 written three letters upon so disagreeable a subject as 
 Mr. Wood and his halfpence, I conceived my task was 
 at an end. But I find that cordials must be frequently 
 applied to weak constitutions, political as well as 
 natural. 'A people long used to hardships lose by 
 degrees the very notions of liberty ; they look upon 
 themselves as creatures of mercy, and that all imposi- 
 tions laid on them by a strong hand are, in the pliraso 
 of the report, legal and obligatory.' He defined clearly 
 and boldly the limits of the prerogative of the Crown, 
 maintaining that while the Sovereign had an undoubted 
 right to issue coin he could not compel the people to 
 receive it ; and he proceeded to assert the independence 
 of Ireland, and tne essential nullity of jthose measures 
 which" had not received the sanction of the__Irish 
 Le'^'islature. He avowed his entire adherence J^he 
 
48 JONATEAN SWIFT. 
 
 doctrine of Moljneux ; he^ declared liis allegianco to 
 the King, not as King of England^ but as__King of 
 Ireland ; and he asserted that Ireland was rightfull}^ 
 free nation, which implied that it had tlie power of 
 self-legislation ; for ' government without the consent 
 of the governed is the very definition qfslnA'ery.' This 
 letter was sustained by other pamphlets, and by ballads 
 which were sung through the streets, and it brought 
 the agitation to the highest pitch. All parties com- 
 bined in resistance to the obnoxious patent and in a 
 determination to support the constitutional doctrine. 
 The Chancellor Middleton denounced the coin ; the 
 Lords Justices refused to issue an order for its circu- 
 lation ; both Houses of Parliament passed addresses 
 against it ; the grand jury of Dublin and the coimtry 
 gentry at most of the quarter sessions condemned it. 
 ' I find,' wrote Primage Boulter, ' by my own nnd others' 
 enquiry, that the people of every religion, country, and 
 party here are alike set against Wood's lialfpence, and 
 that their agreement in this has had a very unhappy 
 influence on the state of this nation, by bringing on 
 intimacies between Papists and Jacobites and the 
 Whigs.' Government was exceedingly alarmed. Wal- 
 pole had already recalled the Duke of GrafCon, whom 
 he described as ' a fair-weather pilot, that did not 
 know how to act wlien the first storm arose ; ' but Lord 
 Carteret, who succeeded him as Lord Lieutenant, was 
 equally unable to quell the agitation. A reward of 
 300Z. was offered in vain for the discovery of the author 
 of the Fourth Letter. A prosecution was instituted 
 against the printer ; but the grand jiuy refused to find 
 the bill, and persisted in their refusal, notwithstanding 
 tlie violent and indecorous conduct of Chief Justice 
 Whiteshed. The feeling of the people grew daily 
 stronger, and at last Walpole was compelled to yield 
 and witlulraw the Datent. 
 
ins STYLE. 49 
 
 Such were the circumstances of this memorable 
 contest — a contest which has been deservedly placed in 
 the foremost ranks in the annals of Ireland. There is 
 no more momentous epoch in the history of a nation than 
 that in which the voice of the people has first spoken, 
 and spoken with success. It marks the transition from 
 an age of semi-barbarism to an age of civilisation — 
 from the government of force to the government of 
 opinion. Before this time rebellion was the natm*al 
 issue of every patriotic efifort in Ireland. Since then 
 rebellion has been an anachronism and a mistake. 
 The age of Desmond and of O'Neil had passed. The 
 age of Grattan and of O'Connell had begun. 
 
 Swift was admirably calculated to be the leader of 
 public opinion in Ireland, from his complete freedom 
 from tlie characteristic defects of the Irish tempera- 
 ment. His writings ^xhibit no tendency to exaggera- 
 tion or bombast ; no fallacious images or far-fetched 
 analogies ; no tumid phravses in which the expression 
 hangs loosely and inacciurately around the meaning. 
 His style is always clear, keen, nervous, and exact. 
 He delights in the most homely Saxon, in the simplest 
 and most unadorned sentences. His arguments are so 
 plain that the weakest mind can grasp them, yet so 
 logical that it is seldom possible to evade their force. 
 Even his fictions exhibit everywhere his antipathy to 
 vagueness and mystery. As Emerson observes, ' He 
 describes his characters as if for the police-court.' It 
 has been often remarked that his very wit is a species 
 of argument. He starts from one ludicrous conception, 
 such as the existence of minute men, or the suitability 
 of children for food, and he proceeds to examine that 
 conception in every aspect ; to follow it out to all its 
 consequences ; and to derive from it, systematically and 
 consistently, a train of the most grotesque incidents. He 
 4 
 
50 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 seeks to reduce everything to its most practical form, 
 and to its simplest expression, and sometimes affects 
 not even to understand inflated language. It is 
 curious to observe an Irishman, when addressing the 
 Irish people, laying hold of a careless expression attri- 
 buted to Walpole — that he would pour the coin down 
 the throats of the nation — and arguing gravely that 
 the difficulties of such a course would be insuperable. 
 This shrewd, practical, unimpassioned tone was espe- 
 cially needed in Ireland. To employ Swift's own image, 
 it was a medicine well suited to correct the weaknesses 
 of the national character. 
 
 After the ' Drapier's Letters,' Swift published several 
 minor pieces on Irish affairs, but most of them are 
 very inconsiderable. The principal is his ' Short View 
 of the State of Ireland,' published in 1727, in which 
 he enumerated fourteen causes of a nation's prosperity, 
 and showed in how many of these Ireland was deficient. 
 He also brought forward the condition of the country 
 indirectly, in his amusing proposal for employing 
 children for food — a proposal which a French writer is 
 said to have taken literally, and to have gravely ad- 
 duced as a proof of the wretched condition of the 
 Irish. His influence with the people, after the ' Dra- 
 pier's Letters,' was unbounded. "Walpole once spoke 
 of having him arrested, and was asked whctlier he had 
 ten thousand men to spare, for they would be needed 
 for the enterprise. When Serjeant Bettcsworth, an 
 eminent lawyer whom Swift had fiercely satirised, 
 threatened him with personal violence, the people vo- 
 luntarily formed a guard for his protection. Wlicn 
 Primate Boulter accused him of exciting the people, 
 lie retorted, with scarcely an exaggeration, ' If I were 
 only to lift my finger, you would be torn to pieces.' 
 We have a curious proof of tlie extent of his reputation 
 
nis ropuLAniTT. 51 
 
 in a letter written by Voltaire, then a very young man, 
 requesting him to procure subscriptions in Ireland for 
 the 'Henriade' — a request with whicli Swift complied, 
 though he had always refused to publish his own works 
 by subscription. 
 
 There are few things in the Irish history pf_the last 
 century more touching than the constancy with_which 
 the p eople clung to their old^leader, even at a time 
 wlien his^faculties_had_wholly decayed ; and , notw ith- 
 stand ing 2 iis cree d, his profession; and his intolerance, 
 tlie name of Swift^was for many generations th e mo st 
 universally popidar in^,Irelaiid» He first taught the 
 Irish people to rely upon themselves. He led them 
 to victory at a time when long oppression and the 
 expatriation of all the energy of the country had 
 deprived them of every hope. He gave a voice to 
 their mute sufferings, and traced the lines of their 
 future progress. The cause of free trade and the ca use 
 of legislative independence never again passed out of 
 t he mind s of Irishmen, and tli e non -importation ag^rec- 
 ment of 1779, and the legislative emancipation of 
 1782, wer e the develop ment o f liis policy. The street 
 ballads whicli he delighted in writing, the homely, 
 transparent nature of all his pamphlets, and the pe- 
 culiar vein of rich humour wliich pervaded them, 
 extended his influence to tlie very lowest class. It 
 is related of him that lie once gave a guinea to a 
 maid-servant to buy a new gown, with the characteristic 
 injunction that it should be of Irish stuff. When ho 
 afterwards reproached her with not liaving complied 
 with his injunction, she brought him his own volumes, 
 which she had purchased, saying they were the best 
 ' Irish stuff' she knew. 
 
 But, in spite of all this popularity, Ireland never 
 ceased to ])e a land of exile to him ; and he more than 
 
52 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 once tried to obtain some English preferment instead 
 of liis deanery. With tliis object, on the death of 
 Greorge I., he made an assiduous court to Mrs. Howard, 
 the mistress of the new Sovereign, but soon found that 
 she possessed no real power. The presence of Pope 
 and Bolingbroke, whom he most truly loved, as well 
 as the wider sphere of ambition it furnished, drew his 
 affections to England, and a number of causes made 
 Ireland peculiarly painful to him. He was engaged 
 towards the close of his life in a multitude of eccle- 
 siastical disputes, into the details of which it is not 
 necessary to enter. He strenuously opposed Bills for 
 commuting the tithes of flax and hemp, for preventing 
 the settlement of landed property on the Church or on 
 public charities, for enlarging the power of the bishops 
 in granting leases, and for relieving pasture land from 
 the payment of tithes: and the first three Bills were 
 ultimately rejected. He was also on very bad terms 
 with the bishops, who were always strong Whigs, and 
 who represented the Church and State policy to Avhich 
 he was most opposed. His judgment of them he ex- 
 pressed with his usual emphasis. ' Excellent and moral 
 men had been selected upon every occasion of vacancy. 
 But it unfortunately has uniformly happened that as 
 tliese worthy divines crossed Hounslow Heath on their 
 road to Ireland, to take possession of their bishoprics, 
 they have been regularly robbed and miu'dercd by the 
 liighwaymen frequenting that common, who seize upon 
 their robes and patents, come over to Ireland, and are 
 consecrated bishops in their stead.' 
 
 In 1726 he paid a visit to England, after an absence 
 of twelve years. He was introduced to Walpole, who 
 received him with marked civility, and whom he en- 
 deavoured to interest, both directly and through the 
 " -m of Peterborouah, in Irish affairs. He also 
 
DEATH OF STELLA. 53 
 
 revisited his old friends Pope and Bolingbroke, but was 
 soon recalled by the news that Stella was dying. He 
 retui-ned in haste, scarcely expecting to find her alive. 
 < I have been long weary,' lie wrote, ' of the world, and 
 shall, for my small remainder of years, be weary of 
 life, having for ever lost that conversation which could 
 alone make it tolerable.' Stella, however, lingered till 
 1728. The close of her life was in keeping with the 
 rest, involved in circumstances of mystery and obscu- 
 rity ; and an anecdote is related concerning it which, 
 if it be accepted, would leave a very deep stain on the 
 memory of Swift. The younger Sheridan states, on 
 the authority of his father, tliat a few days before her 
 death, Stella, in the presence of Sheridan, adjured 
 Swift to acknowledge tlie marriage that had previously 
 taken place between them, to save her reputation from 
 posthumous slander, and to grant her the consolation 
 of dying his admitted wife. He adds that Swift made 
 no reply, but walked silently out of the room, and 
 never saw her again during tlie few days that she lived, 
 that she was thrown by his behaviour into unspeakable 
 agonies of disappointment, inveighed bitterly against 
 his cruelty, and then sent for a lawyer and bequeathed 
 her property, in the presence of Sheridan, to chari- 
 table purposes. But high as is the authority for this 
 anecdote, there are serious reasons for questioning 
 its accuracy. The book in which it appeared was only 
 published fifty years after the time, and its author was 
 a boy when his father died. It appears from the extant 
 will that it was drawn up, not a ' few days,' but a full 
 month before the death of the testator, and at a time 
 when she was so far from regarding herself as on the 
 point of death that she described herself as in ' toler- 
 able health of body,' left a legacy to one of her 
 servants if he should be alive and in her service at 
 
54 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 the time of her death, and another to the poor of the 
 parish in which she may happen to die. It is certain 
 that the disposition of her property was no sudden 
 resolution, and it is equally certain that it was not 
 made contrary to the wishes of Swift, for a letter by 
 him exists which was written a year earlier, in which 
 lie expresses a strong desire that she could be induced 
 to make her will, and states her intentions about lier 
 property in tlie exact words which she subsequently 
 employed. On money matters, as we have seen, Swift 
 was very disinterested, and it is not surprising that he 
 who had refused to marry Vanessa notwithstanding her 
 large fortune, should have advised Stella to bequeath 
 her property in charity. The tei'ms of agonising sorrow 
 and intense affection in whicli he at tliis time wrote 
 about her, and tlie entire absence of any known reason 
 why he should not liave avowed the marriage had she 
 desired it, make tlie alleged act of harshness very im- 
 probable ; and it may be added that the will contains a 
 bequest to Swift of a box of papers, and of a bond for 
 thirty pounds. The bulk of her property she beqeathed, 
 as Swift two years before had intimated, to Stecvens 
 Hospital, after the death of her mother and sister, to 
 revert to her nearest relative in case of the disesta- 
 blishment of the Protestant Church in Ireland. It is 
 remarkable that Swift provided for the same contin- 
 gency in the case of some tithes which he purchased 
 when at Laracor, and left to his descendants. Her 
 body, in accordance with the desire expressed in her 
 will, was buried in St. Patrick's Cathedral. 
 
 In addition to the anecdote I have mentioned, there 
 is another related about the last hours of Stella which 
 is not very consistent with the former one. JSIrs. 
 Whitewa}'", the niece of Swift, informed one of his 
 relations tliat Stella was carried shortly before her 
 
mS CONNECTION WITH STELLA. 55 
 
 death to the deanery, and being very feeble was laid 
 upon a l>ed, while Swift sat by the side, holding her 
 hand and addressing her in the most afifectionate terms. 
 Mrs. White way, out of delicacy, and being unwilling 
 to overhear their conversation, withdrew into another 
 room, but she could not help hearing two broken 
 sentences. Swift said in an audible tone, ' Well, my 
 dear, if you wish it, it shall be owned;' to which Stella 
 answered, with a sigh, ' It is too late ; ' and it is as- 
 sumed that these words referred to the marriage. On 
 the whole, there is no decisive evidence that Stella 
 ever complained in her later years of her relations with 
 Swift, or that she suffered from any unhappiness after 
 the death of Miss Vanhomrigh, nor does Swift ever 
 appear during her lifetime to have been accused of 
 harshness to her. The common belief that her death 
 was caused or hastened by unrequited love appears 
 entirely destitute of foundation, and is itself almost 
 absurd. When Stella died she was forty-seven and 
 Swift was sixty-one, and their connection had been 
 unbruken for many years. 
 
 It is difficult or impossible to unravel the motives 
 which may liave induced Swift to prefer a Platonic 
 marriage to that of ordinary men, but some of them, 
 at least, lie on the surface. He was at first nervously 
 afraid of producing a family upon narrow means ; he 
 had in all things a strong bias towards singularity; 
 and he appears to have been absolutely insensible to 
 the passion of love, while he was extremely susceptible 
 to tlie charms of friendship. These reasons may have 
 at first led to the connection, and the force of habit 
 and the failing health both of himself and of Stella, 
 may have made him unwilling, when he grew richer, to 
 change his habits of life. It is probable, too, as Sir 
 W. Scott 1ms sugg(^sted, that some physical cause con- 
 
56 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 tributed to his decision. He rarely saw Stella except 
 in presence of a third person, and carefully avoided all 
 occasion of scandal; but she did the honours of his 
 table, though only in the capacity of a guest, on his 
 days of public reception. Her somewhat cold tempe- 
 rament and eminently decorous manners appear to 
 have fallen in well with the arrangement, and there is 
 no evidence of any scandal having been aroused. There 
 is little doubt that she was married to Swift twelve 
 years before her death, but she retained the name of 
 Johnson to the last, and it is still engraven iipon her 
 tomb.* 
 
 But whatever may have been the relation subsisting 
 between Stella and Swift, it is plain that when she 
 died the death-knell of his happiness had struck. ' For 
 my part,' he wrote to one of his friends just before the 
 event took place, 'as I value life very little, so the 
 poor casual remains of it after sucli a loss, would be a 
 burden that I most heartily beg God Almighty to 
 enable me to bear; and I think tliere is not a greater 
 folly than that of entering into too strict and parti- 
 cular a friendship, with the loss of which a man mnst 
 be absolutely miserable, but especially at an age when 
 it is too late to engage in a new friendship.' That 
 morbid melancholy to which he had ever been subject 
 assumed a darker hue and a more unremitting sway as 
 the shadows began to lengthen npon his path. It 
 had appeared very vividly in ' Gulliver's Travels,* 
 which were published as early as 1726, and which, 
 perhaps, of all his works, exhibits mojit frequently his 
 idiosyncrasies and his sentiments. We find his old 
 hatred of mathematics displayed in the history of 
 
 * The Stella mystery has been discussed by all the biographers of 
 Swift, but I must cspc-cially acknowledge my obligations to the singularly 
 interesting volume of Dr. Wilde on ' The Last Davs of Swift.* 
 
niS MELANCnOLY. 57 
 
 Laputa; his devotion to his disgraced friends, in the 
 attempt to cast ridicule on the evidence on whicli 
 Attcrbury was condemned ; his antipathy to Sir Isaac 
 Newton, whose habitual absence of mind is said to have 
 suggested the flappers ; as well as allusions to Sir R. 
 Walpole, to the doubtful policy of the Prince of Wales, 
 to the antipathy Queen Anne had conceived against 
 him on account of the indecorous manner in which he 
 had defended the Churcli, and to a number of otlier 
 political events of liis time. We find, above all, his 
 deep-seated contempt for mankind in his picture of tlie 
 Yahoos. His view of human nature perhaps differs 
 little from that professed by a large religious school in 
 the present day, but with Swift it was no figure of 
 speech, no mere pulpit dogma, but a deeply realised 
 fact. Living in one of the most hollow, heartless, and 
 sceptical ages that England liad ever known, embittered 
 by disappointment and ill-health, and separated by 
 death or bv his position from all wliora he most deeply 
 loved, he learnt to look witli a contempt which is 
 often displayed in 'Gulliver' upon the contests in 
 which so much of liis life had been expended, and his 
 naturally stern, gloomy, and foreboding nature dark- 
 ened into an intense misanthropy. lie cast a retro- 
 spect over his life, and his deliberate opinion seems to 
 ])a\e been "that man was hopcdessly corrupt, that the 
 evil p_rcponderatcs over_the_g<X)d, and that life itself 
 i7a curse. He appears to irave adopted, as far as this 
 world is concerned, the sentiment of his friend Boling- 
 broke, that there is so much trou ble in entering it, and 
 sojnuchlnTeaving it, that it is scarcely wortli while 
 being_here_at all. 
 
 'Age had begun to press heavily upon him, and age 
 he had ever regarded as the greatest of human ills. 
 In lus picture of the ' Immortals ' he had painted its 
 
58 JONATHAN SWIFT. 
 
 fittc'iKhmt evils as they liiid i:ever been painted before. 
 He had ridiculed tlie reverence paid to the old, as 
 resembling that whicli the vulgar pay to comets, for 
 their beards and their pretensions to foretell tlie future. 
 lie had predicted that, like the blasted tree, he would 
 liimself die first at the top. Those whom he had 
 valued the most had almost all preceded him to tlie 
 tomb. Oxford, Arbuthnot, Peterborough, Gay, Lady 
 jNIasham, and Kowe, had one by one dropped off. Of 
 all that brilliant company who had surrounded him in 
 the days of his power, Pope and Bolingbroke alone 
 remained ; and Pope was sinking under continued ill- 
 ness, and Bolingbroke was drawing his last breath in 
 the more congenial atmosphere of France. Sheridan 
 had gone with broken fortunes to a school at Cavan ; 
 Stella had left no successor. His niece, Mrs. AVhite- 
 way, vratched over him with unwearied kindness, but 
 she could not supply the place of those who had gone. 
 He looked forward to death without terror and with- 
 out pain, but his mind quailed at the prospect of the 
 dotage and the decrepitude that precedes it. He had 
 seen the greatest general and the greatest lawyer of 
 his day sink into a second childhood, and he felt that 
 the fate of Marlborough and of Somers would at last 
 be his o^vn. A large mirror once fell to the ground in 
 the room where he was standing. A friend observed 
 how nearly it had killed him. ' Would to God,' he 
 exclaimed, 'that it had!' His mind at length gave 
 way. His flashes of wit became fewer and fewer, and 
 he gradually sank into a condition approaching imbeci- 
 lity, while at the same time his passions became wholly 
 ungovernable. He constantly broke into paroxysms of 
 the wildest fury, into outbursts that were scarcely <li-:- 
 tinguishable from insanity. Avarice, the common vice 
 of the old, came upon him with a fearful power. He 
 had lost his friends, his talents, and his health, nr.d lie 
 
HIS DEATH. 59 
 
 cluDg with desperate tenacity to money, the only thing 
 that i-emained. He shrank from all hospitality, from 
 all luxuries, from every expense that it was possible to 
 avoid. Yet even at this time he refused a considerable 
 sum which w^as offered him to renew a lease on terms 
 that would be disadvantageous to his successors. 
 
 At length the evil day arrived. A tumour, accom- 
 panied by the most excruciating pain, arose over one 
 of his eyes. For a month he never gained a moment 
 of repose. For a week he was with difficulty restrained 
 by force from tearing out liis eye. The agony was too 
 great for human endurance. It subsided at last, but 
 his mind had wholly ebbed away. It was not mad- 
 ness ; it was absolute idiocy that ensued. He remained 
 passive in the hands of his attendants without speak- 
 ing, or moving, or betraying the slightest emotion. 
 Once, indeed, when some one spoke of the illumina- 
 tions by which the people were celebrating the anniver- 
 sary of his birthday, lie muttered, ' It is all folly ; they 
 had better leave it alone.' Occasionally he endea- 
 voured to rouse himself from liis torpor, but could not 
 liud words to form a sentence, and with a deep sigh he 
 relapsed into his former condition. It was not till 
 he had continued in this state for two years that lie 
 exchanged the sleep of idiocy for the sleep of death. 
 
 He died in 1747, and was buried near the grave of 
 fStella, in his own cathedral, where the following very 
 cliaracteristic epitaph, wTittea by liimself, marks his 
 grave : 
 
 inC DF.POSITUM EST CORPUS 
 
 JONATHAN SWIFP, S. T. P. 
 
 HUJCS ECCLESI.i: CATHEDRALS 
 
 DECAKI. 
 
 Vm S^VA INDIGNATIO 
 
 COK ILTEniUS LACEnAEJK NEQUIT. 
 
 A Br VIATOR, 
 
 ET IMITARE SI POTERIS, 
 
 bTUEXUfM }'i;o VJRII.I LIBERTATIS VINDICATOREM. 
 
60 JONATHAN STHFT. 
 
 His property he left to build a madhouse. It would 
 seem as though he were guided in his determination 
 by an anticipation of his own fate. He himself assigned 
 another reason. He says in his poem on his own 
 death : 
 
 He left the little wealth he h;id 
 To build a house for fools and Tiiad, 
 To show by one Siiliric touch 
 No nation needed It so much. 
 
 The reputation of Swift has suffered from a variety 
 of causes. Politically, he was the founder of an Irish 
 movement which English writers treat, for the most 
 part, with ridicule and contempt, and perhaps the 
 greatest writer of an English party wliich has steadily 
 been declining. He had also, like so many great men, 
 the misfortune of reckoning among his acquaintances 
 one of those vain and meddling fools who try to win a 
 literary reputation by chronicling the weaknesses of 
 great men. The ' Recollections of Lord Orrery ' have 
 furnished materials for much posthumous detraction ; 
 and the extreme coarseness of tlio writings of Swift, 
 as well as the many repulsive and unamiable features of 
 his cliaracter, have given great scope for the censures 
 of the party writer or of the popular moralist. 
 
 In truth, the nature of Swift was one of those whicl? 
 neither seek nor obtain the sympathy of ordinary men. 
 Through his whole life his mind was positively dis- 
 eased, and circumstances singularly galling to a great 
 genius and a sensitive nature combined to aggravate 
 his malad3% Educated in poverty and neglect, passing 
 then under tJie yoke of an imcongenial patron and of 
 an unsuitable profession, condemned during his best 
 years to offices that were little more than menial, con- 
 signed after a brief period of triumph to life-long exile 
 in a torpid country, separated from all his friends and 
 
niS CHARACTER AND GENIUS. 61 
 
 baflled in all his projects, he learned to realise the 
 bitterness of great powers with no adequate sphere 
 for their display— of a great genius passed in every 
 walk of worldly ambition by inferior men. His cha- 
 racter was softened and improved by prosperity, but 
 it became acrid and virulent in adversity. Hating 
 hypocrisy, he often threw himself into tlie opposite 
 extreme, and concealed his virtues as other men 
 their vices. Possessing powers of satire perhaps as 
 terrible as have ever been granted to a human being, 
 he employed them sometimes in lashing impostors 
 like Partridge, or arrogant law7ers like Bettesworth, 
 but very often in unworthy personal or political quar- 
 rels. He flung himself unreservedly into party war- 
 fare, and was often exceedingly unscrupulous about 
 the means he employed ; and there is at least one deep 
 stain on his private character ; but he ^vas capable of a 
 very genuine patriotism, of an intense hatred of injus- 
 tice, of splendid acts of generosity, of a most ardent 
 and constant friendship, and it may be truly said tliat 
 it was those who knew him best who admired him 
 most. He was also absolutely free from those literary 
 jealousies which were so common among his contempo- 
 raries, and from the levity and shallowness of tliought 
 and character that were so characteristic of liis time. 
 
 Of the intellectual grandeur of his career it is need- 
 less to speak. The chief sustainer of an English 
 Ministry, the most powerful advocate of the Peace of 
 Utrecht, the creator of public opinion in Ireland, lie 
 has graven his name indelibly in English history, and 
 his WTitings, of their own kind, are unique in English 
 literature. It has been the misfortune of Pope to 
 produce a number of imitators, who made his versifica- 
 tion so hackneyed that they produced a reaction against 
 his poetry in which it is often most unduly underrated. 
 
62 JONATHAN S"WIFT. 
 
 Addison, tliough always read with pleasure, has lost 
 much of his old supremacy. A deeper criticism, a more 
 nervous and stimulating school of political writers 
 liave made much that he wrote appear feeble and 
 superficial, and even in his own style it would be 
 possible to produce passages in the writings of Grold- 
 smith and Lamb that might be compared without 
 disadvantage with the best papers of tlie 'Spectator.' 
 But the position of Swift is unaltered. ' Gulliver ' 
 and the ' Tale of a Tub ' remain isolated productions, 
 unrivalled, unimitated, and inimitable. 
 
HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 The efforts of Swift had created a public opinion in 
 Ireland, but had not provided for its continuance. A 
 splendid example had been given, pnd the principles 
 of liberty had been triumphantly asserted, but there 
 was no permanent organ to retain and transmit the 
 national sentiment. The Irish Parliament, which 
 seemed specially intended for this purpose, liad never 
 been regarded with favour by Swift. He had satirised 
 it bitterly as the Legion Club — 
 
 Not a Lowshot from tlie college, 
 
 Ualf the world from sense auJ knowledge ; 
 
 and its constitution was so defective, and its corruption 
 so gTcat, that satire could scarcely exaggerate its faults. 
 To lire this body with a patriotic enthusiasm, to place 
 it at the head of the national movement, and to make 
 it in a measure the reflex of the national will, was re- 
 served for tlie subject of the present sketch. 
 
 Henry Flood was the son of the Chief Justice of the 
 King's Bench in Ireland. He entered Trinity College 
 as a Fellow- Commoner, but terminated his career, as 
 is still sometimes done, at Oxford. While at the Uni- 
 versity he applied himself with much energy to the 
 classics, and especially to those studies which are ad- 
 vantageous to an orator in forming a pure and elevated 
 style. For tliis purpose lie h^arnt considerable portions 
 of Cicero by heart. He wrote out Demosthenes and 
 -Fschines on the Crown, two books of the 'Paradise 
 Lost,' a translation of two books of Homer, and 
 
64 ITENRY FLOOD. 
 
 the finest passages from every play of Shakespeare. 
 Like most persons who combine great ambition with 
 great powers of expression, he devoted himself much 
 to poetry ; liis principal production being an ' Ode to 
 Fame,' which w^as much admired at the time, and is 
 written in the formal, florid style that was then popular. 
 He was also passionately addicted to private tlieatricals, 
 which were very fashionable, and whicli contributed 
 not a little to form his style of elocution. 
 
 The portraits drawn by his contemporaries are ex- 
 ceedingly attractive. They represent him as genial, 
 frank, and open ; endow^ed with the most brilliant con- 
 versational powers, and the happiest manner, ' the most 
 easy and best-tempered man in the world, as well as 
 the most sensible.' ^ His figure was exceedingly grace- 
 ful, and his countenance, though afterwards soured and 
 distorted by disease, was originally of corresponding 
 beauty. He was of a remarkably social disposition, 
 delighting in witty society and in field-sports, and 
 readily conciliating the affection of all classes. Lord 
 Mountmorres, who knew him chiefly in his later years, 
 and w^as inclined to judge him with severity, describes 
 him as a preeminently truthful man, and exceedingly 
 averse to flattery. By his marriage he had obtained a 
 large fortune, and was therefore enabled to devote 
 himself exclusively to the service of the countr3% 
 When we add to this, that he was a man of great 
 eloquence, indomitable courage, and singularly acute 
 judgment, it will be seen that he possessed almost 
 every requisite for a great public leader. 
 
 He entered Parliament in 1759 as member for 
 Kilkenny, being then in his 27th year, and took his 
 seat on the benches of tlie Opposition. 
 
 I have said that tlio Irisli Parliament was at tliis 
 
 Gratt.iu. 
 
COERUPTION OF THE TARLIAMENT. G5 
 
 time subservient and corrupt, and a few facts will show 
 clearly the extent of the evil. The Roman Catholics, 
 who were the vast majority of the population, were , 
 excluded from all representation, both direct and in- \ 
 direct. They could not sit in Parliament, and they / 
 could not vote for Protestant mem})ers. The borough 
 system, which had been chiefly the work of the Stuarts 
 — no less than forty boroughs liaving been created by 
 James I. alone — had been developed to such an extent 
 tliat out of the 300 members who composed the Par- 
 liament, 216 were returned f(jr boroughs or manors. 
 Of these borough members, 200 were elected by 100 
 individuals, and nearly 50 by 10. According to a 
 secret report drawn up by the Irisli Government for 
 Pitt in 1784, Lord Shannon at that time returned no 
 less than IG members, the Ponsonby family 14, Lord 
 Hillsl)orough 9, and the Duke of Leinster 7. An 
 enormous pension list, and tlie entire patronage of the 
 Government, were systematically and steadily employed 
 in corruption, and this was carried to such an extent 
 tliat in 1784, besides 44 placemen, the House of 
 Commons contained 8G members wlio represented con- 
 stituencies which were let out to tlie Government in 
 consideration of titles, offices, or pensions. Peerages 
 were the especial reward of borough-owners who re- 
 turned subservient members, and in this way botli 
 Houses were simultaneously corrupted : 53 peers arc 
 said to have nominated 123 members of the Lower 
 House.' Among the Irish nobility, absenteeism was 
 so common that Swift assures us that in his time the 
 bishops usually constituted nearly half of the working 
 members of the House of Lords ; ^ and the ecclesiastical, 
 
 ' See Grattin's Life; Ma scy's 'History of England;' Lord Clon- 
 curr}-'s ' Recollf^ciions.' 
 
 2 Swift's AVorks (ScoU's cd.), vol. viji. p. 365. 
 
66 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 like all other appointments, were made chiefly through 
 political motives. At the same time, the House of 
 Commons was almost entirely free from popular control, 
 for, unless dissolved by the will of the Sovereign, it 
 lasted for the whole reign. The Parliament of 
 George II. in this manner continued for no less than 
 thirty-three years. 
 
 Any degree of independence that was shown by a 
 body of tliis kind must have been due chiefly to a 
 conflict between the selfish interests to which it was 
 subject. Collisions between the landlords and the 
 ecclesiastical authorities on the sulyect of tithes, and 
 between tlie great Irish nobles and the Government 
 on tlie subject of patronage, began the independent 
 spirit which the Irish Parliament ultimately showed, 
 and it also, like all legislative bodies, had a natural 
 tendency to extend the sphere of its authority. By a 
 law called Poyning's Law, passed under Henry VII., 
 it had been provided that the Irish Parliament should 
 not bo summoned till the Acts it was called upon to 
 pass had been approved under the Great Seal of 
 England, that Parliament could neither originate 
 nor amend any Acts, and that its sole power was that 
 of rejecting the measures thus submitted to it. Gra- 
 dually, however, these restrictions were relaxed. Par- 
 liament regained in a gTcat measure the right of 
 originating Bills, and it claimed, though for a long 
 time unsuccessfully, the right of complete control over 
 the national purse. Its constitutional position before 
 1782 was a matter of constant dispute between its 
 members and the English authorities, but the prevail- 
 ing practice is thus described by Lord Mountmorres : 
 Before a Parliament is summoned, he tells us, ' it is 
 necessary that the Lord-Lieutenant and Council should 
 send over an important Bill as the reason for summoning 
 
CONSTITUTION OF THE TAIILIAMEKT. 67 
 
 that assembly. This always created violent disputes, 
 and it was constantly rejected, as a money Bill which 
 originated in the Council was contrary to a known 
 maxim, that the Commons hold the purse of the nation. 
 . . . Preparations for laws, or heads of Bills, as they 
 are called, originated indifferently in either House. 
 After two readings and a committal, they were sent by 
 the Council to England, and were submitted usually by 
 the English Privy Council to the Attorney and Solicitor 
 General, and from them they were returned to the 
 Council of Ireland, from which they were sent to the 
 Commons if they originated there (if not, to the Lords), 
 where they went through three stages, and :he Lord- 
 Lieutenant gave the royal assent in the same form 
 which is observed in Great Britain. In all these stages 
 in England and Ireland, it is to be remembered that 
 any Bill was liable to be rejected, amended, or altered; 
 bat tliat wlien they had passed the Great Seal of 
 England, no alteration could be made by the Irish 
 Parliament.' * Tlie ultimate form therefore which 
 every Irish measure assumed was determined by the 
 authorities in England, who had the power either of 
 altering or rejecting the Bills of the Irish Parliament, 
 and this latter body, thougli it miglit reject the Bill 
 which was returned to it from England in an amended 
 form, had no power to alter it. 
 
 The speaking in the Parliament, as might be ex- 
 pected, v>-as in general very bad. Parliamentar}^ elo- 
 quence usually implies a certain amount of patriotic 
 enthusiasm, and can scarcely exist when the over- 
 whelming majority are governed by corrupt motives. 
 An eminent lawyer named Malone,'^ who obtained the 
 position of Chancellor of tlie Exchequer, is said to 
 
 ' Lord Mountmorrrs's ' History of the Irish Parliaraent,' vol. i. p, 59. 
 * Father of the •Bcll-kuf)\rn editor of Shakespeare. 
 
68 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 liave been a great master of judicial eloquence ; and 
 Grattan, who, in Lis pamphlet in answer to Lord Clare, 
 has devoted a fine paragraph to him, relates that Lord 
 George Sackville was accustomed to mention him with 
 Chatham and jNIansfield as one of the three greatest 
 men he had ever known, but with this exception it 
 appears that before Flood, Ireland had produced no 
 orator of eminence. 
 
 Such was the condition of tlie Parliament when 
 Flood entered upon his career, and made his maiden 
 speech against Primate Stone, who had succeeded to 
 much of the political influence which Boulter had pre- 
 viously possessed, and was the recognised head of the 
 English party. The eloquence and position of the 
 young member soon made liim the leader of the party 
 which desired to abridge tlie corrupt influence of 
 Government, and to establish tlie independence of 
 Parliament. 
 
 His eloquence, as far as we can judge from tlie 
 description of contemi3oraries and from the fragments 
 that remain, was not quite equal to that of some later 
 Irish orators. He was too sententious and too laboured. 
 He had, at least in his later years, but little fire and 
 imagination ; his taste was by no means pure; and his 
 lanouaire, thouo-h full of force and meanin^', was often 
 tinged with pedantry. He appears, however, to have 
 been one of the very greatest of Parliamentary 
 reasoners. To those who are acquainted wath the 
 speeches of Grattan, and know the wonderful force 
 with which that orator condensed an argument into an 
 epigram, and disencumbered it of all superfluous 
 matter, it will be sufficient to say that Flood was in- 
 variably considered the more convincing reasoner of 
 the two. He was a great master of grave sarcasm, of 
 invective, of weighty, judicial statement, and of reply; 
 
LUCAS. 69 
 
 and he brought to every question a wide range of con- 
 stitutional knowledge, and a keen and prescient, though 
 somewhat sceptical, judgment. He is also said to have 
 surpassed all his contemporaries in the irritating and 
 embarrassing tactics of an Opposition leader. There 
 was an air of solemn dignity in his manner which 
 added much to the eflfect of his gTeater sjiceches, but 
 did not suit trivial subjects. Grattan said of him, 
 tliat ' on a small subject lie was miserable. Put a 
 distaff into his hand, and, like Hercules, he made sad 
 work of it ; but' give him a thunderbolt, and he had 
 the arm of a Jove.' The only speaker who was at all 
 able to cope with him in the earlier part of his career 
 was Hely Hutchinson, the Provost of Trinity College,' 
 wlio was superior to him in light sarcasm and raillery, 
 but inferior in all beside. 
 
 His indefatigable exertions soon produced their 
 fruit. Public opinion began to show itself outside the 
 walls of Parliament, and a powerful Opposition was 
 organised within. The chief objects he proposed to 
 himself were the shortening of the duration of Parlia- 
 ment, the reduction of the pension list, the creation of 
 a constitutional militia, and the establishment of the 
 principles of Molyneux. In pursuing the first of these 
 objects, he found a powerful auxiliary in Charles Lucas, 
 a very remarkable man who then occupied a prominent 
 position in Irish politics. Lucas had been originally a 
 Dublin apothecary. He was a man of little education 
 and no property, but of a strong, shrewd, coarse in- 
 tellect, great courage, and indefatigable perseverance. 
 In 1741 he had detected and exposed some encroach- 
 ments that had been made upon the charters of Irish 
 
 ' Author of a most admirablo work on the ' Commercial Disabilitips 
 of Ireland,' from which I have derived much assistaLPo in that portion 
 of my suLjoct. 
 
70 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 corporate towns, and from that time lie devoted himself 
 continually to politics. He asserted the independence 
 of Ireland so unequivocally, and he denoimced the cor- 
 ruption of Parliament in so pointed and personal a 
 manner, that the grand jury of Dublin at last ordered 
 his addresses to be burnt, and the Parliament, in 1749, 
 proclaimed him an enemy to the country, and issued a 
 warrant for his apprehension- He fled to England, 
 where he became a physician and practised with some 
 success, and he wrote in exile an appeal to the people 
 of both countries, as well as a treatise on Bath waters. 
 A noli prosequi at last enabled liim to return, and his 
 popularity was so great that he was elected member 
 for Dublin. He had lost the use of his limbs, and his 
 speeches — which were chiefly remarkable for tlieir 
 violent vituperation — were all delivered sitting. Ho 
 denoimced the pensioners and the Government witli 
 imsparing bitterness, but there was no one against 
 whom his sarcasm was more envenomed than against 
 his own colleague. Tliat colleague was the Eecorder 
 of Dublin, the fatlier of Henry Grattan. Lucas brought 
 forward a Septennial Bill, but it never became law. 
 He assisted Flood in Parliament by his speeches, but 
 exercised a far greater influence outside Parliament by 
 articles in the ' Freeman's Journal,' which he had ori- 
 ginated, and which was the foimdation of the Irish 
 Liberal j^ress. He died in 1771.^ 
 
 For about ten years the patriotic party in the Irish 
 Parliament carried on a desultory warfare on the ques- 
 tions I have enumerated. Their influence was shown in 
 the creation of a strong and growing public feeling 
 outside Parliament, and of a small but able Opposition 
 within its walls ; but though they often embarrassed 
 
 ' His pamplilcts and acKlrcsscs have been collected : tliej' form one 
 thick and tedious vol u mo. 
 
LORD TOWNSHEND's ADMINISTRATION. Vl 
 
 a Minister and sometimes carried a division, their 
 measures were always ultimately rejected either by 
 Parliament or the Vrivj Council. In 1767, however, a 
 great and unforeseen change took place in their pros- 
 pects, in consequence of the appointment of Lord 
 Townshend as Lord-Lieutenant, and of the new line of 
 policy which he resolved to pursue. 
 
 Lord Townshend was brother of the more famous 
 Charles Townshend, whose brilliant but disastrous 
 career closed almost immediately after this appoint- 
 ment. A soldier of some distinction, with considerable 
 talents and popular and convivial manners, he entered 
 upon his administration under very promising circum- 
 stances. His first speech favoured the project of 
 making the judges irremovable ; and a Bill to. that 
 effect was accordingly carried through Parliament, but 
 it was returned from England so altered that it was 
 rejected ; and this important reform, which had been 
 obtained in England at the Revolution, was not ex- 
 tended to Ireland till 1782. But the unpopulai-ity 
 which resulted from this failure was more than com- 
 pensated in the following year by the enthusiasm pro- 
 duced by the concession of one of the strongest wishes 
 of the Irish people. The limitation of the duration of 
 Parliament was justly regarded as the first condition 
 of all constitutional progress, and it was a question 
 upon which a violent agitation had been aroused. The 
 members of Parliament, as was very natural, disliked 
 the change, but they did not venture to resist the 
 popular outcry ; they felt secure that if they passed 
 the Bill it would be aftcr^vards rejected in England; 
 and they were not averse to obtaining in this 
 manner some popularity with their constituents. 
 This little comedy was played three times, but. in 17G8 
 the English Cabinet resolved to yield. The violent 
 
72 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 commotion that liad arisen in Ireland, the unpopularity 
 produced by the defeat of the Judg-es Bill, anger at the 
 proceedings of the Irish aristocracy, and perhaps a 
 desire of strengthening the hands of Lord Townshend 
 for the policy lie was about to pursue, were their pro- 
 bable motives. The Bill as it passed through Parlia- 
 ment was a septennial one, but was changed in England 
 into an octennial one, and in that form became law. 
 The policy of Flood and Lucas had so far triumphed, 
 and the Parliament became in some real sense an 
 organ of the popular will. 
 
 The Lord-Lieutenant, however, who was the object of 
 an enthusiastic ovation in 1768, was destined to be- 
 come one of the most unpopular who have ever ruled in 
 Ireland, and to give an unprecedented impulse to the 
 national spirit. It had been the custom of his prede- 
 cessors to reside very little in Ireland, and the manage- 
 ment of Parliament was chiefly in the hands of four or 
 five gi-eat borough-owners, who undertook to carry on 
 the business of the Grovernment in consideration of 
 obtaining a monopoly of its patronage. This system 
 Lord Townshend resolved to destroy. If his object had 
 been simply to diminish overgrown aristocratic power, 
 to check corruption, or to make Parliament in some 
 degree popular, it would have been laudable, but the 
 real end of liis policy appears to have been of a dif- 
 ferent nature. The great Irish families were gTasping, 
 rapacious, and corrupt ; but they also constituted in 
 some measure an independent Irish party, and Lord 
 Townshend wished in consequence to break their 
 power, and to make Parliament directly and exclu- 
 sively subservient to Government influence. With 
 this object, the whole patronage of the Grovernment 
 was employed, and corruption carried to an extent to 
 which even the Irish Parliament was unaccustomed. 
 
LOUD TOWXSnEND's ADMINISTRATION. 73 
 
 The constitutional dependency of the Parliament was 
 strenuously asserted, while the great aristocratic 
 families were thrown into alliance with the party of 
 Flood and of the patriots. 
 
 The struggle began upon the question of a money 
 Bill. A large proportion of the Irish members had 
 always, as I have said, aimed at obtaining for their 
 House a complete control of the national purse, and 
 the practice of originating or altering money Bills in 
 England had always been resented. It was contended 
 by some, on very doubtful grounds, that this practice 
 was illegal ; by others that, even if strictly legal, it 
 was incompatible with all real national independence, 
 and tliat Parliament should resist it by the exercise of 
 its undoubted right of rejecting any money Bill which 
 did not originate with itself. A money Bill originated 
 by the Privy Council in 1769 was rejected by the first 
 octennial Parliament on the ground that it did ' not 
 take its rise in that House,' while at the same time 
 the House, to prove its loyalty, voted large supplies to 
 the Crown. The Lord-Lieutenant delivered, in the form 
 of a speech, an angry protest, which he caused to bo 
 inserted in the Journals of the House of Lords ; and 
 he prorogued the Parliament, though pressing business 
 was on hand. For fourteen months it was not again 
 summoned. In the meantime places were lavishly 
 multiplied. It was afterwards a confession or a boast 
 of Lord Clare that not less than half a million of 
 money was spent in obtaining a majority. With such 
 a constitution as that of the Irish Parliament, such 
 efforts were always in some degree successful. When 
 the House met in 1771, the customary congratulatory 
 addresses to the Lord-Lieutenant were duly carried, 
 though not without great diflBculty and after a powerful 
 opposition from Flood in the Commons and from 
 5 
 
74 irENRY FLOOD. 
 
 Charlemont in the Lords ; but when another altered 
 money Bill was introduced, it was rejected on the 
 motion of Flood witliout a division. The Commis- 
 sioners of Eevenue, who Avere not allowed to sit in tlie 
 Ensflish House of Commons, had seats in that of Ire- 
 land, and Lord Townshend, with a view to increasing 
 his Parliamentary influence, resolved to increase their 
 number from seven to twelve. Flood denounced the 
 proposed measure, and on his motion the Parliament 
 passed a resolution asserting the sufficiency of seven. 
 In accordance with another resolution, the opinion of 
 the House was formally laid before the Lord-Lieu- 
 tenant, who carried out his intention in defiance of 
 Parliament. Every nerve was strained on both sides. 
 A direct vote of censure against those who had advised 
 this increase was then brought forward, and was car- 
 ried by the casting vote of the Speaker. Lord Towns- 
 hend succumbed to the storm. He was speedily 
 recalled, but before he left Ireland, he succeeded in 
 obtaining a vote of thanks from Parliament.* 
 
 During the course of this contest a series of political 
 papers appeared in Dublin, under the title of ' Barata- 
 riana,' which produced an extraordinary sensation, and 
 are not even now quite forgotten. They consisted of a 
 history of Barataria, being a sketch of Lord Towns- 
 liend's administration, with fictitious names ; of a series 
 
 * A curious and favourable light is thrown upon the administration 
 of Lord Townshend by some letters of Lord Camden, published in 
 Campbell's ' Lives of the Chancellors,' vol. vi. pp. 386-3S9. It appears 
 that the Chancellor and the chiefs of the three law courts in Ireland had 
 been always English ; that the Irish acquired the King's Bench, and 
 that in the Viceroyalty preceding that of Lord Townshend an Irish 
 Chief Baron was for the first time made. Flood had made a rehomcnt 
 attack upon the plan of sending over judges from England, and Lord 
 Townshend was extremely anxious to make an Irishman Lord Chan- 
 cellor, but the English Cabinet (guided, as it w^ould appear, chiefly by 
 the advice of Lord Camden and Lord Northington) refused to consent. 
 
CHANGE OF MINISTRY. 75 
 
 of letters modelled after Junius ; and of tl)ree or four 
 satirical poems. The history and the poems were by 
 Sir Hercules Langrishe, the dedication and the letters 
 signed ' Posthumus ' and ' Pertinax ' by Grattan, and 
 those signed ' Syndercombe ' by Flood. Flood's letters 
 are powerful and well-reasoned, but, like his speeches, 
 too laboured in style, and they certainly give no coun- 
 tenance to the notion started at one time that he was 
 the author of the Letters of Junius. 
 
 Flood liad now attained to a position that had as yet 
 been unparalleled in Ireland. He had shown that pure 
 patriotism and great abilities could find scope in the 
 Irish Parliament. He had proved himself beyond all 
 comparison the greatest orator that his country had as 
 yet produced, and also a consummate master of Parlia- 
 mentary tactics. In the midst of a corruption, venality, 
 and su])serviency wliich could scarcely be exaggerated, 
 lie had created a party before which Ministers had 
 begun to quail — a party whicli had wrung from Eng- 
 land a concession of inestimable value, which had in- 
 oculated tlie people with tlic spirit of liberty and of 
 self-reliance, and which promised to expand with the 
 development of public opinion till it had broken every 
 fetter and Iiad recovered every riglit. Xo rival had as 
 yet risen to detract from liis fame, and no suspicion 
 rested upon his conduct. Tlie tide now began to turn. 
 We have henceforth to describe the rapid decadence 
 of his power. \Ve have to follow him descending from 
 his proud position, eclipsed by a more splendid genius, 
 soiu-ed b}^ disappointment, and clouded by suspicion, 
 and sinking, after one brilliant flash of departing glorv, 
 into a position of comparative insignificance. 
 
 Tlie Administration of Lord Harcourt succeeded 
 that of Lord Townshend. It was conducted on more 
 liberal principles, and Flood at first supported it as an 
 
76 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 independent member, and at length consented to ac- 
 cept the office of Vice-Treasurer. Of all the steps of 
 liis career tliis has been the most censured, and it is 
 only with great diffidence that I venture to discuss 
 his motives. The materials in print for forming an 
 opinion on this portion of Irish history are so extremely 
 scanty, and they consist in so large a degree of parti- 
 san speeches, letters, and biograpliies, that an historian 
 must always feel painfully conscious that the true 
 springs and motives of the proceedings he describes 
 may lie beyond his knowledge, and that an accurate 
 account of the secret negotiations of the Viceregal 
 G-overnment with the leading statesmen might give a 
 wholly different complexion to his narrative. The 
 reasons, however, which Flood alleged for joining tlic 
 Government are on record, and, besides contemporary 
 letters and conversations that were preserved, we possess 
 his own very elaborate vindication in a speech which he 
 delivered in 1783 in reply to the invective of Grattan. 
 These reasons seem to me amply sufficient to exculpate 
 liim from the cliarge of corruption. Flood had never 
 been a factious or systematic opponent of Govern- 
 ments, and his persistent hostility to that of Lord 
 Townshend only dated from the prorogation. He 
 desired, it is true, to make the Irish Legislature as 
 independent as that of England, and it was an intel- 
 ligible policy to stand apart from every Government 
 which refused to make the concession ; but such a policy 
 then appeared absolutely suicidal. The constitution 
 of Parliament and the character of its members made 
 it seem utterly impossible tliat a measure of indepen- 
 dence could be carried in the teeth of the Government, 
 and if it were carried there was not the faintest pro- 
 bability of such a movement outside the walls as would 
 compel the Englisli Parliament to yield to it. It was 
 
BEASONS FOR TAKIN'G OFFICE. 77 
 
 not possible for Flood or for any man to predict the 
 wonderful impulse that was given to the national cause 
 by the American war and by the arms of the volunteers. 
 His success during Lord Townshend's Administration 
 was chiefly due to the accidental alliance of some 
 of the most selfish members of the aristocracy with his 
 party, and even then two votes of tlianks to the Lord- 
 Lieutenant were carried in spite of his opposition. 
 When the irritation which Lord Townshend had caused 
 had been allayed by the appointment of a new Viceroy, 
 the party of Flood began at once to dwindle, and it 
 appeared evident that under the existing constitution 
 of Parliament that party could not reasonably hope to 
 do more than modify the course of events. Under 
 these circumstances Flood contended that the true 
 policy of patriots was to act with the Government, and 
 endeavour to make its measures diverge in the direction 
 of public utility. A patriot in office would be obliged 
 to waive the discussion of some measures which he 
 desired, but he could do more for the popular cause 
 tlian if he were leading a hopeless minority. Flood 
 liimself was so indisputably the first man in Parliament 
 that he reasonably held that he could greatly influence 
 the Government, and Lord Harcourt was an honourable 
 and liberal man, and he came to supersede the Viceroy 
 whom Flood had most bitterly opposed. At such a 
 time, and estimating the strengtli of parties when 
 Ireland was in its normal condition. Flood concluded 
 that the discussion of the independence of Parliament 
 miglit be advantageously postponed, if its postpone- 
 ment were purchased by some minor concessions on 
 the part of the Government. By becoming Vice- 
 Treasurer he opened to Irishmen an office from which 
 they had been hitherto excluded, he silenced the cry 
 of faction which had been raised a^^rainst him, and he 
 
78 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 proved the compatibility of national principles with 
 perfect attachment to the Crown. Ministers had shown 
 themselves willing to make considerable concessions in 
 the direction of economy in order to obtain his support. 
 Some prospect had been held out of a relaxation of the 
 commercial restrictions. They had distinctly autho- 
 rised him to propose an absentee-tax, to which he, like 
 many Irish Liberals, attached a great importance ; and 
 he was not without hopes of being able still further to 
 modify their policy. These reasons, enforced by the 
 persuasive powers of Sir John Blacquiere, determined 
 him, as he said, to accept office, and there appears to 
 me to be no valid reason for questioning his account. 
 It may be added that the faults of his character never 
 were those of corruption. A certain avarice of fame, 
 a nervous solicitude about opinion, made him often 
 jealous of competitors, fretful and uncertain as a col- 
 league, anxious to identify himself with all great 
 measures, and prone to exaggerate his sJiare in their 
 success ; but in no otlicr part of his life was he open to 
 a suspicion of being governed by love of money ; nor 
 Vxas he in this respect much tempted, for he possessed 
 a large private fortune, and lind no children. 
 
 Lord Cliarlcmont protested strongly against this 
 resolution of Flood, and there can be no doubt that it 
 f.rrined the fatal turning-point of his life. For nearly 
 seveu years he remained in office, and during that 
 period lie was obliged to keep resolute silence on those 
 great constitutional questions which in former years he 
 had ceaselessly expounded. His character was no longer 
 above suspicion, and tlie confidence of the people — the 
 chief element of his power — had passed away. The 
 popular mind always detects readily a change of opi* 
 nions or of polic}^, but seldom cares to analyse the 
 motives that may liave produced it. The absentee- tax 
 
DEFENCELESS STATE OF IRELAND. 79 
 
 was strongly opposed by the groat Whig noblemen in 
 England, and the Government at length abandoned it. 
 The commercial relaxations that he expected were 
 pertinaciously withheld. A two years' embargo was 
 imposed upon Ireland, in consequence of the American 
 war ; and in this unpopular measure he was compelled 
 to acquiesce. Like very many politicians of his time, 
 lie seems to have regarded the subjugation of America 
 as of vital importance to the empire. 'Destruction,* 
 he once predicted in a characteristic sentence, ' will 
 come upon the British empire like the coldness of 
 death. It will creep upon it from the extreme parts.' 
 Four thousand Irish troops were sent to fight against 
 tlie Americans. The inducement was, that the pay 
 would be saved to Ireland ; the objections were, that 
 it left Ireland without the stijnilated number of troops, 
 nnd in a measure defenceles.s, and that this extra- 
 ordinary exertion seemed to imply an extraordinary 
 amount of zeal against a cause which most Liberals 
 regarded as that of justice and of freedom. Flood 
 defended the measure, and designated the troops as 
 'armed negotiators.' It was to this unfortunate ex- 
 pression that Grattan alluded when he described him, 
 in his famous invective, as standing ' with a metaphor 
 in his mouth and a bribe in his pocket, a champion 
 against the rights of America — the only hoj^ of Ire- 
 land, and the only refuge of tlie liberties of mankind.' 
 
 But results such as no one had predicted soon sprang 
 from this measure. The Mayor of Belfast called upon 
 the Government to place a garrison in that town to 
 pro'tect it against the French, and w^as informed that 
 half a troop of dismounted cavalry and half a troop of 
 invalids were all that could be spared to defend the 
 commercial capital of Ireland. 
 
 Then arose one of those movements of enthusiasm 
 
»0 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 that occur two or three times in the history of a nation. 
 The cry to arms passed through the land, and was 
 speedily responded to by all parties and by all creeds. 
 Beginning among the Protestants of the north, the 
 movement soon spread, though in a less degree, to 
 other parts of the island, and the war of religions and of 
 castes, that had so long divided the people, vanished 
 as a dream. The inertness produced by centuries of 
 oppression was speedily forgotten, and replaced by tlie 
 consciousness of recovered strength. From Howth to 
 Connemara, from the Giant's Causeway to Cape Clear, 
 the spirit of enthusiasm had passed, and the creation of • 
 an army had begun. The military authorities who could 
 not defend the country could not refuse to arm those who 
 had arisen to supply their place. Though the popula- 
 tion of Ireland was little more than half of what it is at 
 present, G0,000 men soon assembled, disciplined and 
 appointed as a regular army, iired by the strongest 
 enthusiasm, and moving as a single man. Tliey ros<;; 
 to defend their country alike from the invasion of a 
 foreign army and from the encroachments of an alien 
 Legislature. Faithful to the connection between the 
 two islands, they determined that that connection 
 should rest upon mutual respect and upon essential 
 equality. In the words of one of their own resolutions, 
 ' they knew their duty to their Sovereign, and they 
 were loyal ; they knew their duty to themselves, and 
 they were resolved to be free.' They were guided by 
 the chastened wisdom, the unquestioned patriotism, 
 the ready tact of Charlemont. Conspicuous among 
 their colonels was Flood, not uninjured in his repu- 
 tation by his ministerial career, yet still reverent from 
 the memory of his past achievements and the splendour 
 of his yet unfading intellect ; and there, too, was he 
 before whose genius all other Irishmen had begim to 
 
THE YOLUNTEERS. 81 
 
 pale — the putriot of unsullied purity— tlic statesman 
 who could fire a nation by his enthusiasm and restrain 
 it by his wisdom— the orator whose burning sentences 
 became the very proverbs of freedom— the gifted, the 
 high-minded Henry Grattan. 
 
 It was a moment of supreme danger for the empire. 
 The energies of England were taxed to the utmost by 
 the war, and there could be no reasonable doubt that 
 the Volunteers, supported by the people, could have 
 wrested Ireland from her grasp. A nation unhabituated 
 to freedom, and maddened by centuries of oppression, 
 had suddenly acquired this overwhelming power. Could 
 its leaders restrain it within the limits of moderation? 
 Or, if it was in their power, was it in their will ? 
 
 The voice of the Volunteers soon spoke, in no 
 equivocal terms, on Irish politics. They resolved that 
 ' Citizens, by learning the use of arms, forfeit none of 
 their civil rights ;' and they formed themselves into a 
 regular Convention, with delegates and organisation, 
 for the purpose of discussing the condition of the 
 country. Their denunciations of the commercial and 
 legislative restrictions grew louder and louder; and 
 two cannons were shown labelled with the inscription 
 ' Free Trade or this I ' 
 
 In Parliament Grattan and Kussey Burgh made 
 themselves the interpreters of the prevailing feeling. 
 The latter, in a speech which was long remembered as 
 a masterpiece of eloquence, described the condition of 
 the country, and called upon the ^Ministers to avert 
 war by timely and ample concessions. ' Talk not to 
 me,' he exclaimed, 'of peace; it is not peace, but 
 smothered war. England has sown her laws in dragons' 
 teeth, and they have sprung up in armed men.' The 
 restrictions on trade were made the special objects of 
 attack. I have described in the last chapter the 
 
82 HENRY VLCOD. 
 
 manner in which — with tlie exception of the linen 
 trade — almost every branch of Irish commerce and 
 manufactm-e was crippled or ruined by law, and very 
 few measures of relief had been carried during the 
 first three quarters of the eighteenth century. Some 
 additional encouragement had indeed been given to 
 Irish linen. Several temporary Acts were passod per- 
 mitting Irish cattle, salted provisions, and tallow to 
 enter Enjrland, and in 1765 Ireland w^as allowed to 
 receive iron and timber direct from the colonies, but 
 the more important disabilities remained unchanged. 
 In 1775, however, a strong movement for free trade 
 arose in Ireland, which fully triumphed under the in- 
 fluence of tlie Volunteers in 1779. In the first of 
 these years Irish vessels were admitted to the fisheries 
 of Newfoundland and Greenland. In 1778 several 
 small relaxations w^ere made in tJie prohibitory law's 
 whicli excluded Ireland from the colonial trade. In 
 the beginning of 1779 an attempt w^as made to allay 
 the Irish cry for the repeal of all commercial dis- 
 abilities by granting new bounties to linen and to 
 hemp, and by permitting the cultivation of tobacco in 
 Ireland. The time, however, for such compromise had 
 passed, and on both sides of the Channel public feeling 
 ran dangerously high. The English manufacturers, 
 and especially the towns of Manchester and Glasgow, 
 were bitterly opposed to any measure of free trade, and 
 their opposition hampered the very liberal tendencies 
 of Lord North. The Irish were in arms, and they 
 demanded nothing less than to be placed on the same 
 footing with the English. Numerous meetings were 
 held, and resolutions adopted, pledging the people 
 neither to import or consume any articles of Englisli 
 manufacture till the commercial restrictions were re- 
 moved ; and v»hen Parliament met in October 1779, 
 
REMOYED FROM THE MINISTRY. 83 
 
 Burgh moved, as an amendment to the address from 
 the throne, a petition fur ' an extension of trade/ 
 Flood, who was still a Minist/cr, rose and suggested 
 that the expression ' free trade ' should be employed, 
 and spoke in favour of the amendment, which was 
 carried. The House went in a body to present their 
 petition to the Lord-Lieutenant, and the Volunteers 
 lined the road and presented arms to them as they 
 passed. The due emphasis was thus supplied to their 
 request, and Lord North soon after brought forward in 
 England a series of measures which removed the chief 
 grievanties that were complained of. The Acts pro- 
 hibiting the Irish from exporting their woollen and 
 glass manufactures were repealed, and the colonial 
 trade was tliro\vn open to Ireland. 
 
 The events that have been described rendered the 
 position of Flood as Minister still more irksome than 
 it liad been, and at last he took the step which it was 
 plainly his duty to have tak(m before — threw up Iiis 
 office and rejoined his old friends. The Ministers 
 marked their displeasure at his conduct by dismissing 
 iiim from the Council ; and he never regained his 
 former position among the Liberals in Parliament. 
 He found that his long services liad been forgotten 
 during his long silence, that the genius of Grattan had 
 obtained a complete ascendency in Parliament, and 
 that the questions lie had for so many years discussed 
 were taken out of his hands. He felt the change 
 very acutely, and it exercised a perceptible influence 
 upon his temper. In 1779 Yelverton brought forward 
 a Bill for the repeal of Poyning's Law ; and Flood, 
 while supporting the measure, complained bitterly that 
 ' after a service of twenty years in the study of this 
 particular question' he had been superseded. He added: 
 'The honourable gentleman is erecting a temple of 
 
84 HENRT FLOOD. 
 
 liberty. I hope that at least I shall be allowed a 
 niche in the fane.' Yelverton retorted by reminding 
 tliem that by the civil law ' if a man shonld separate 
 from his wife, desert, and abandon her for seven yeai-s, 
 another might then take her and give her his protec- 
 tion.' 
 
 I pass over the events that immediately followed 
 the discussions of the Volunteers, and the ultimate 
 triumph of Irisli independence, as belonging more 
 especially to the life of Grattan. Tlie next prominent 
 transaction in which Flood appears w^as the fatal con- 
 troversy on tlie subject of Simple Kcpeal. How far in 
 tliis matter he was actuated by personal motives, and 
 how far by pure patriotism, it is impossible to deter- 
 mine. This much may be said in his favour— that he 
 supported every step of his policy by specious if not 
 by conclusive arguments, and that he carried witli him 
 a very large section of the intellect of the country. 
 The broad question on which he differed from Grattan 
 was the advisability of continuing the Volunteer Con- 
 vention. Grattan washed Ireland to subside into its 
 normal condition as soon as the independence of the 
 Parliament had been declared ; he felt the danger and 
 the irregularity of having the representatives of an 
 armed force organised like an independent Parliament, 
 and overawing all other authority in the land. He 
 considered that Parliamentary reforms should emanate 
 from Parliament alone, and should be the result of no 
 coercion, except that of public opinion. Flood, on the 
 other hand, perceived that Ireland was in a j^osition, 
 with reference to England, such as she might never 
 occupy again ; he believed tliat by continuing the 
 Convention a little longer, guarantees of Irish in- 
 dependence Diight be obtained which it would be 
 impossible afterwards to overthrow; and that Parlia- 
 
SIMPLE REPEAL. 85 
 
 ment in'gLt be so reformed as to be made completely 
 subject to public opinion, and therefore completel}^ 
 above the danger of miniaterial intrigue. He fore- 
 saw what Grattan at that time does not appear to 
 have foreseen, that the English Ministers would never 
 cordially accept the new position of Ireland ; that 
 they would avail themselves of every extraordinary 
 circumstance, of every means of corruption in their 
 power, to strangle the independence of Parliament ; 
 and tliat the borough system gave them a fatal facility 
 for the accomplishment of their purpose. 
 
 The Simple Repeal controversy may be thus shortly 
 stated : English statesmen maintained, and Irish Libe- 
 rals, from IMolyneux to Grattan, denied, that the effect 
 of Poyning's Law was to make the Irish Parliament 
 entirely subservient to English control.^ Tlie Parlia- 
 ment of England fixed the sense by a declaratory Act, 
 asserting the dependence of that of Ireland, and it was 
 on these two enactments that its authority in Ireland 
 rested. In 1782 tlie Irish Parliament asserted its own. 
 independence, and the English Parliament repealed 
 its declaratory Act. The question at issue was whetlier 
 this was sufficient, or whether an express renunciation 
 should be exacted from England. 
 
 Grattan argued that the principle of dependence 
 was embodied in the declaratory Act, and therefore 
 that its repeal was a resignation of the pretended right ; 
 that when a man of honour affirms that he possesses a 
 
 ' The following; is Bacon's account of its origin and nature : 
 ' Poyning, the better to m.-iko compensation of tlie mcH^reness of his 
 forvices in the wars };y acts of peace, called a Parliament, when was 
 made that memorable Act which at this day is called Poyning's Law, 
 whereby all the statutes of England were made to bo of force in Ireland, 
 for before they were not; neither are any now in force in Ireland which 
 were made since that time, which was the eighteenth year of the King.' 
 —History of llcnry VII. 
 
80 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 certain power, and afterwards solemnly retracts hla 
 declaration, it is equivalent to a distinct disavowal, 
 and that the same laws of honour apply to nations and 
 to individuals ; that to require an express renunciation 
 from England would be to exhibit a distrustful and 
 an overbearing spirit, and would keep alive the ill- 
 feeling between the two countries which it was most 
 important to allay ; that it would also stultify the Irish 
 Liberals, for it would imply that England actually 
 possessed the right she was called upon to renounce. 
 
 To these reasonings it was replied tliat the decla- 
 ratory law did not make a right, and that therefore its 
 repeal could not unmake it ; that though Irish Liberals 
 maintained that England had never possessed the right 
 in question, tlie English Parliament had asserted its 
 authority", and tliat the repeal of the declaratory Act 
 was not necessarily anything more than the Avithdrawal 
 of that assertion as a matter of expediency for the 
 present; that an express renunciation would be a 
 charter of Irish liberties such as no legal quibble 
 could evade; and that if England had no desire to 
 re-assert her claim, she could have no objection to 
 make it. It was added that the history of English 
 dealings with Ireland showed plainly how necessary it 
 was to leave no loophole or possibility of encroacliment. 
 It was a peculiarity of the Irish question that the in- 
 dependence of the Irisli Parliament was bitterly opposed 
 in England, on different grounds, by the most opposite 
 parties. The high prerogative party objected to it as 
 a measure of political emancipation. The trading 
 classes, who constituted the chief strength of the Whig 
 party, were equally opposed to it through their jealousy 
 of Irish trade. 
 
 In addition to these general considerations, several 
 
SIMPLE REPEAL. 87 
 
 circumstances had occurred in England which greatly 
 disturbed the public mind. Lord Abingdon, in the 
 English House of Lords, had drawn a distinction 
 between a right to internal and a right to external 
 legislation, and had argued that, while England had 
 relinquished the former, she liad retained the latter. 
 An English law with reference to the importation of 
 sugar from St. Domingo had been drawn up in terms 
 that seemed applicable to Ireland, and Lord Mansfield 
 had decided an old Irish law case. 
 
 The Simple Repeal question was not started by 
 Flood, but it gained its importance chiefly from his 
 adhesion to the party who were yet unsatisfied. He 
 brought forward their arguments w^th his usual force, 
 and concluded his speccli with an appeal of great 
 solemnity, which bears every mark of earnest feel- 
 ing. 'AVere the voice,' he said, 'with which I now 
 utter this, the last effort of expiring nature ; were the 
 accent which conveys it to you the breath that was to 
 waft me to that grave to which we all tend, and to 
 which my footsteps rapidly accelerate, I w^ould go on, 
 I would make my exit by a loud demand for your 
 rights: and I call upon tlie God of truth and liberty, 
 who has so often favoured you, and who has of late 
 looked down upon you with such a peculiar grace and 
 glory of protection, to continue to you His inspirings, 
 to crown you with the spirit of His completion, and to 
 assist you against the errors of those that are honest, 
 as well as against tlie machinations of those that are 
 not.' iMost of the Volunteers, headed by the lawyer 
 corps, whose opinion on such a question naturally car- 
 ried great weight, supported Flood, and the popularity 
 of Grrattan in the coimtry waned as rapidly as it had 
 risen. It became customary to say that nothing had 
 
88 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 really been gained until the formal renunciation had 
 been made ; and at last Fox brought forward in Eng- 
 land the required renunciatory Act. 
 
 It was in tlie course of this controversy that the 
 fanions collision between Flood and Grrattan took 
 phu-e. It had been for some time evident to close ob- 
 servers that it must come sooner or later. For severni 
 years the friendship between these two great men had 
 been growing colder and colder, and giving way to 
 feelings of hostility. Flood felt keenly the manner in 
 which he had been superseded as leader of tlie Liberals. 
 He could not reconcile himself to occupying a second 
 place to a man so much younger than himself, after 
 liaving been for so long a period the most conspicuous 
 cliaracter in the country. The particular subject of 
 the independence of Parliament he had brought for- 
 ward again and again w^hen Grattan was a mere boy, 
 and it seemed hard that another should reap the glory 
 of his long and thankless labour. He had sat in Par- 
 liament for sixteen years before G rattan had entered 
 it. He had borne the brunt of the battle at a time 
 when the prospects of the cause seemed hopeless ; and 
 if less brilliant than his rival he was deemed by most 
 men fully his equal in solid capacity, and greatly his 
 superior in experience. Grattan, on the otlier hand, 
 regarded Flood's adhesion to the Harcourt Administra- 
 tion as an act of apostac}^, and his agitation of Simple 
 Pepcal as a struggle for a personal triumph at the ex- 
 pense of the interests of the country. He dreaded the 
 permanence of the Volunteer Convention, the increase 
 of the ill-feeling existing between the tw^o countries, 
 and a needless and dangerous agitation of the public 
 mind. Ill healtli aud the position he had so long 
 held had given Flood a somewhat authoritative and 
 petulant tone, wliich contrasted remarkably with his 
 
COLLISION WITH GIIATTAN. 89 
 
 urbanity in private life ; and Grattan, on his side, was 
 embittered by the sudden decay of his popularity, and 
 by several sliglit and not very successful conflicts witli 
 his rival. 
 
 Under these circumstances it needed but little to 
 produce an explosion, and that little was supplied by 
 a singularly discourteous and unfair allusion to Flood's 
 illness which escaped from Grattan in the heat of the 
 debate. Flood rose indignantly, and, after a few words 
 of preface, launched into a fierce diatribe against his 
 opponent. His task was a difficult one, for few men 
 presented a more unassailable character. Invective, 
 however, of the most outrageous description, was the 
 custom of the time, and invective between good and 
 great men is necessarily unjust. He dwelt with bitter 
 emphasis on the grant the Parliament had made to 
 Grattan. He described him as ' that mendicant patriot 
 who was bought by his country, and sold that coimtry 
 for prompt payment ;' and he dilated with the keenest 
 sarcasm upon the decline of liis popularity. He con- 
 cluded, in a somewhat exultant tone : ' Permit me to 
 say tliat if the honourable gentleman often provokes 
 such contests as this, he will have but little to boast of 
 at the end of the session.' Grattan, however, was not 
 unprepared. He had long foreseen the collision, and 
 had embodied all his angry feelings in one elaborate 
 speech. Employing the common artifice of an ima- 
 ginary character, he painted the whole career of his 
 opponent in the blackest colours, condensed in a few 
 masterly sentences all the charges that had ever been 
 brought against him, and sat down, having delivered 
 an invective which, for concentrated and crushing 
 power, is almost or altogether unrivalled in modern 
 oratory. 
 
 Thus terminated the friendship between two men 
 
DO HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 who had done more than any who were then living for 
 their country, who had known eacli other for twenty 
 years, and whose lives are imperishably associated in 
 lii story. Flood afterwards presided at a meeting of 
 the Volunteers, wliere a resolution complimentary to 
 Grattan was passed ; Grattan, in his pamphlet on the 
 Union, and more than once in private conversation, 
 gave noble testimony to tlie greatness of Flood ; but 
 they were never reconciled again, and their cordial 
 co-operation, which was of such inestimable import- 
 ance to the country, was henceforth almost an impos- 
 sibility. 
 
 The dissension between the Parliament and the 
 Volunteers had now become very marked, and it was 
 evident that there existed among the latter a party 
 who desired open war with England. It is curious that 
 tlieir leader should have been by birth an Englishman, 
 and by position a bishop. The Earl of Bristol and 
 Bishop of Derry was son of that Lord ITervey who was 
 long remembered only as the object of the fiercest of 
 all tlie satires of Pope, but who within the last few 
 years has been revealed in altogether a new light, by 
 the publication of those masterly memoirs in which he 
 had described the court and much of the State policy 
 of George II. The character of the Bishop has been 
 very differently painted, but its chief ingredients are 
 sufficiently evident, whatever controversy there may be 
 about the proportions in which they were mixed. He 
 appears to have been a man of respectable learning 
 and of real talent, sincerely attached to liis adopted 
 country, and on questions of religious disqualifica- 
 tion greatly in advance of most of his contempo- 
 raries ; but he was at the same time utterly destitute 
 of the distinctive virtues of a clergyman, and he 
 was one of the most dangerous politicians of his time. 
 
THE BISIlOr OF DERRY. 91 
 
 Vuin, impetuous, and delighting in display, -with an 
 insatiable appetite for popularity, and utterly reck- 
 less about the consequences of his acts, he exhibited, 
 though, an English peer and an Irish bishop, all the 
 characteristics of the mcst irresponsible adventurer. 
 Under other circumstances he might have been capable 
 of the policy of an Alberoni. In Ireland, for a short 
 time, he rode upon tlie crest of the wave ; and if he 
 L-ad obtained the control he aspired to over the Volun- 
 teer movement, he would probably have headed a civil 
 war. But though a man of clear, prompt judgment, 
 of indisputable courage, and of considerable popular 
 talents, he had neither the caution of a great rebel 
 nor the settled principles of a great statesman. His 
 habits were extremely convivial ; he talked with reck- 
 less fully to his friends, and even to British officers, of 
 ll\e appeal to arms which he meditated ; and he exhi- 
 bited a passion for ostentation which led men seriously 
 to question his sanity. 'He appeared always,' says 
 Harrington, ' dressed with peculiar care and neatness, 
 generally entirely in pui'ple, and he wore diamond knee 
 and shoe buckles ; but what I most observed was, that 
 he wore white gloves with gold fringe round the wrists, 
 and large gold tassels hangiug from them.' The osten- 
 tation he manifested in his dress he displayed in 
 every part of liis public life. A troop of horse, com- 
 manded by his nephew, used to accompany him when 
 lie went out, and to mount guard at his door. On 
 one occasion he drove in royal state to a great meet- 
 ing which was held at the Ivotundo, escorted by a 
 body of the Volunteers, who sounded their trumpets 
 ;us they passed the Parliameut-hoiise, much to the asto- 
 nishment of the assembled members. 
 
 Fortunately, however, the influence of the Bishop 
 with the Volunteers, though very great, was not 
 
92 UENRT FLOOD. 
 
 absolute. He desired to become tlicir president, but, 
 though he had many partisans, Lord Charlemont was 
 elected to the place ; and in the Convention itself 
 the practised oratory of Flood gave him a com- 
 plete ascendency. At the same time, it is not sur- 
 prising that the proceedings of the Volunteers should 
 have created much alarm in many minds, and that 
 stronjr wishes should be felt for tlie dissolution of the 
 Convention. But for this measure Flood was not 
 prepared. He maintained that two great dangers had 
 menaced tlie independence of Parliament, that it 
 might be evaded by a legal quibble, ond that it 
 might be betrayed by the corruption of its members. 
 By obtaining from England a distinct renunciation of 
 all supremacy, he had provided effectually against the 
 first of these dangers. By reforming the Parliament, 
 he sought to guard against the latter. But, in order 
 that a Reform Bill should be broucrlit forward with 
 
 CD 
 
 any chance of success, he believed it to be essential 
 that it should be supported by all the tlireatening 
 weight of the Volunteer Convention. Had he suc- 
 ceeded in carrying the reform he meditated, he would 
 liave placed the independence of Ireland on the broad 
 basis of tlie people's will, he would have fortified and 
 completed the glorious work tliat he had himself begun, 
 and he would have averted a series of calamities wliicli 
 have not even yet spent their force. We should then 
 never have known the long niglit of corruption that 
 overcast the splendour of Irish liberty. The blood of 
 1798 might never have flowed. The Legislative Union 
 would never have been consummated, or, if there had 
 been a Union, it woidd have been effected by the will 
 of the people, and not by the treachery of their repre- 
 sentatives, and it would have been remembered only 
 with gratitude or Vv^ith content. 
 
THE VOLUNTEER REFORM RILL. 93 
 
 The Reform Bill was drawn up by Flood, and was 
 first submitted to the Volunteer Convention for their 
 sanction. In one respect it was glaringly defective. 
 It proposed to extend tlie franchise largely, but it gave 
 no political power to the Catholics. On this point 
 both Flood and Charlemont were strenuously opposed 
 to Grattan ; and when, in 1782, a measure had been 
 brought forward to enable the Catholics to purchase 
 estates. Flood strongly supported an amendment ex- 
 cepting all borough rights by which members might 
 be returned to Parliament. With this grave exception, 
 the raeasur(>»was a comprehensive one, and would have 
 effectually cured the great evils of the Legislature. It 
 proposed to open the close boroughs by giving votes to 
 all Protestant forty-shilling freeholders, and to lease- 
 holders of thirty-one years, of w^hich fifteen were un- 
 expired. It provided that in the case of decayed 
 boroughs the franchise should be extended to the 
 adjoining parishes ; that pensioners who held their 
 pensions during pleasure should be excluded from 
 Parliament ; that those who accepted a pension for life 
 or a Government place should vacate their seats ; that 
 each member should take on oath that he had not 
 been guilty of bribery at his election ; and that the 
 duration of Parliament should be limited to three 
 years. 
 
 It was in truth a night of momentous import 
 the countr}^ wlien Flood brought forward in Par' 
 the Volunteer Reform Bill, and the crowded benches 
 and the anxious faces that surrounded him showed how 
 fully the magnitude of the struggle was appreciated. 
 The elation of recovered popularity and the proud con- 
 sciousness of the grandeur of his position, dispelled the 
 clouds that had so long hung over his mind, and im- 
 parted a glow to his elo(|uen(;e worthy of his brightest 
 
94 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 days. He had too much tact even to mention the 
 Volunteers in his opening speech ; but the uniform he 
 wore, the fire of his eye, and the almost regal majesty 
 of his tone and of his gesture reminded all who heard 
 him of the source of his inspiration. He was opposed 
 by Yelverton, the Attorney- General. Yelverton was 
 at all times a powerful speaker, but on this night ho 
 seems to have made liis greatest effort. He called 
 upon the House to reject the Bill without even ex- 
 amining its intrinsic merits, as coming from tlie emis- 
 saries of an armed body ; he denounced it as an insult 
 and a menace, as a manifest infringement .of the privi- 
 leges of Parliament ; and he appealed to all parties to 
 rally round the liberties of their country, so lately 
 rescued from English domination, and now threatened 
 by a military council. Flood, in liis reply, rested — 
 perhaps rather disingenuously — on liis not having 
 spoken of the Volunteers. He had not mentioned 
 tlicm, but if they were attacked he was prepared to 
 support them ; and then he digressed, with the adroit- 
 ness of a practised debater, into their defence. He 
 reminded his hearers how much tliey owed to that 
 body ; how the Volunteers had emancipated their trade 
 and struck off their chains ; how absurd, how ungrate- 
 ful it would be to assail their deliverers as enemies, 
 and to brand them as hostile to liberty. Yet it was 
 not for the Volunteers that he asked reform ; he would 
 rather place the question on its own merits. 'We 
 come to you,' he said, ' as members of this House ; in 
 that capacity we present you with a Reform Bill. 
 Will you receive it from us ? ' 
 
 He was, however, but feebly supported and strongly 
 opposed. Many members dreaded reform on personal 
 grounds, and were doubtless glad of a plausible pretext 
 for opposing it; others believed that the Convention 
 
DANGER OF THE CONTENTION. 95 
 
 was the most pressing danger. Lord Cliarlemont, the 
 leader of the Volunteers, who, though not a member, 
 had a great influence in the Lower House, was timid, 
 vacillating, and perplexed. The Grovernment exerted 
 all its influence against Flood, and a majority, actuated 
 by various motives, rejected the Bill. The numbers 
 were 158 to 49, and it is said that more than halt 
 the majority were placemen. A resolution to the 
 effect that the dignity of the House required as- 
 serting, whicli was tantamount to a censure of the 
 Volunteers, was then moved and carried. Grrattan 
 voted with Flood on the reform question, and against 
 him on the subsequent resolution. Lord Charlemont 
 adjourned the Convention sine die, and its members 
 separated with an alacrity and a submission that fur- 
 nished the most eloquent refutation of the charges of 
 their opponents. 
 
 The conduct of Flood in this transaction has given 
 rise to much controversy, and it is difficult to pro- 
 nounce very decidedly upon it. There can be no 
 question that the existence of an assembly consisting 
 of the representatives of a powerful mililaiy force, 
 convened for the purpose of discussing political ques- 
 tions, was extremely menacing, both to the Parliament 
 and the connection. If the Bishop of Derry had ob- 
 tained the presidency, matters would probably have 
 been pushed to a rebellion. This period was perhaps 
 the only one in Irish history when the connection 
 between the two countries might have been easily 
 dissolved, and wlien the dissolution would not have 
 involved Ireland in anarchy or civil war. In the 
 prostrate condition to which England ha^ been re- 
 duced, she could scarcely have resisted an organised 
 army, which rose at last to more than 100,000 soldiers, 
 which was commanded by the men of most property 
 
9G HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 and influence in the country, and was supported by tho 
 entlmsiasm of the nation. Such an or^^^anisation was 
 fjir more powerful than that which had just wrested 
 the colonies from her grasp. Had the severance been 
 effected, Ireland possessed a greater amount of legis- 
 lative talent than at any former period, and lier newly 
 emancipated Parliament only needed a reform to 
 become a most efficient organ of national representa- 
 tion. There was then no serious conflict of classes, 
 and the Catholic question, tliough it caused division 
 among politicians, was at this time no source of danger 
 to the country. The Catholics had neither education, 
 leaders, nor ambition. They were perfectly peaceful, 
 and indeed quiescent, and the process of emancipation 
 would probably have been carried out silently and 
 tranquilly. The most obnoxious of the penal laws had 
 already been repealed. The Volunteers had passed a 
 resolution approving of that repeal. The rising school 
 of politicians were in favour of granting political 
 power to the Catholics, and the cause had no more un- 
 hesitating supporter than the Bishop of Deny. 
 
 This was the course which the Volunteer movement 
 
 would probably have taken if the influence of the 
 
 Bishop had prevailed. Flood, however, does not appear 
 
 to have had any desire to produce rebellion,^ and he 
 
 was no friend of Catholic emancipation. His object 
 
 \s to overawe the Parliament by the menace of 
 
 ilitary force, in order to induce it to reform itself. 
 
 is sufficiently manifest that such an attempt was 
 
 ^^tremely dangerous and unconstitutional, but it was 
 
 a desperate remedy applied to a desperate disease. It 
 
 * See, however, on the other side, a curious traditionary anecdote 
 related by O'Connell, on the authority of B;irtholome\r Hoare, a friend 
 of Flood, and preserred in O'Neil Daunt's 'Ireland and her Agitators/ 
 pp. 4, 5. 
 
rOLlTICAL ATTITUDE OF TIEE VOLUNTEERS. 97 
 
 was a matter of life or death to the Irish Constitution 
 that the system of corruption and rotten boroughs 
 which gave the Castle a sure and overwhelming majority 
 should be ended, and, as a great majority of the 
 members had a personal interest in its permanence, 
 some degree of intimidation was absolutely necessary. 
 Even the Reform Bill of 1832 would never have been 
 passed if the country had been tranquil. There was, 
 no doubt, a considerable difference between the display 
 of force to carry free trade and legislative indepen- 
 dence in accordance with the wishes of Parliament, 
 and the display of a similar force to overawe the Par- 
 liament ; but if the liberties of Ireland were to be 
 permanent, the reform was absolutely necessary, and at 
 this time it could in no other way have been effected. 
 Had Charlemont, Grattan, and Flood been cordially 
 united, it would probably have been forced through 
 Parliament, and the Constitution of 1782 would have 
 been established. Whether, h(3wever, the Volunteers, 
 flushed with a new conquest, would have consented to 
 disband, may reasonably be doubted. Fox, in a very 
 earnest letter, urging the Irish Government to resist 
 the Volunteer demand to the uttermost, said : 'The 
 question is not whether this or that measure shall take 
 place, but whether the Constitution of Ireland, which 
 Irish patriots are so proud of having established, shall 
 exist, or whether the Government shall be as purely 
 military as ever it was under tJic Proetorian bands.' 
 Tlie defensive utility of the Volunteers had terminated 
 w^ith the peace ; and their desire of encroaching on the 
 political sphere had grown. I venture, however, to 
 tliink tliat tlie probabilities were, on the whole, in 
 favour of the peaceful dispersion of the force wlien its 
 work was accomplished. The French Revolution, 
 which has given so violent and democratic a tendency 
 6 
 
98 HENRY FLOOD. 
 
 to most popular movemeuts, had not yet taken place. 
 The Volunteers, as I have said, were guided by the 
 rank and property of the country, and these were 
 amply represented in the Convention. Above all, the 
 moderation of the assembly in selecting Charlemont 
 for its head, and in dispersing peacefully after its 
 defeat, may be taken as a sufficient evidence of the 
 patriotism of its members. 
 
 All the leading men, however, were somewhat below 
 the occasion. Grattan was not a member of the Con- 
 vention. He would not co-operate with Flood, and he 
 utterly disapproved of the continuance of the Conven- 
 tion, and of all attempts to overawe the Legislature. 
 Charlemont remained at the head of the Volunteers 
 chiefly in order to moderate them, and his opinion on 
 the question at issue was, in reality, little different 
 from that of Grattan. The Bishop of Derry was vio- 
 lent, vain, and foolish. Flood was but too open to the 
 imputation of having stirred up the question of simple 
 repeal through envj at the triumph of Grattan, and of 
 aggrandising the power of the Convention, in which 
 he was almost supreme, through jealousy of Parliament, 
 in which his influence had diminished. In under- 
 taking an enterprise of so perilous and unconstitutional 
 a character, it ought at least to have been made certain 
 that the voice of the people was with the Volunteers ; 
 but no step whatever appears to have been taken to 
 obtain petitions or demonstrations, and at the very 
 time when Flood was pushing the country to the verge 
 of a civil war, he was damping the enthusiasm of the 
 Catholics by carefully excluding them from his scheme 
 of reform. 
 
 The effects of this episode upon the country were 
 very injurious. Violent riots broke out in Dublin, 
 and the mob forced its way into the Parliament House. 
 
I. AST YEARS OF THE BISHOP OF DEIiRT. 99 
 
 The Parliament Lad shown some spirit in refusing 
 even to entertain a Bill emanating from a military 
 force, but, as it refused with equal pertinacity to yield 
 to subsequent Reform Bills which were brought forward 
 without military assistance, and with the support of 
 petitions from twenty-six counties, it neither received 
 nor (kscrved credit. The Volunteer Convention dis- 
 solved itself; but the Volunteers themselves, with 
 diminished importance, and under the guidance of 
 inferior men, continued for many years in a divided 
 and broken state, and the United Irishmen rose out of 
 their embers. 
 
 The bishop who had occupied so prominent a place 
 in the movement afterwards retired, on the plea of ill- 
 health, to Italy, where he liv(;d for many years a wild 
 and scandalous- life, retaining the emoluments but 
 utterly neglecting the duties of his bishopric, scoffing 
 openly at religion, and adopting without disguise the 
 lax moral habits of Neapolitan society. His wealth, 
 his good-nature, his munificent patronage of art,^ and 
 his brilliant social qualities made him very popular, 
 and in his old age he was a lover of Lady Hamilton, 
 to whom lie was accustomed to write in a strain of 
 most unepiscopal fervour. He fell into tlie hands of 
 the Frencli in 1799, and was imprisoned at Milan for 
 eighteen months. He died near Rome in ISOS.'* 
 
 The career of Flood in tiie Irish Parliament wns 
 
 ' We have an amusing illustration of liis art tasto in an engraving of 
 one of the most indecent of tlic pictures of Albano, ' Act.'con Discovering 
 I)i:inaan<l her Nymphs just Emerging from the Ilath/ vliieh is dedicaled 
 to 'tlie Karl of Bristol and Lord l^ishop of Derry;' underneath are tho 
 Inshop's arms surmount<.-d by the mitre, and a little below the mitre iii 
 the bishop's motto — ' Je no I'oublierai jamais.' 
 
 ■ ' There is much curious information about the hitter years of this 
 eccentric bishop in the 'Memoirs of Lady Hamilton,' and in those of the 
 Comtcsse do Liclitcnau. 
 
100 HENKY FLOOD. 
 
 now rapidly drawing to a close. In the following year 
 lie made another effort to induce the Parliament to 
 reform its constitution ; but, as he was doubtless well 
 aware, such an attempt, when opposed by the Grovern- 
 ment and unsupported by the Volunteers, was at that 
 time almost hopeless. The Reform Bill, notwith- 
 standing the petitions in its favour, was rejected and 
 Flood shortly after put into execution a design that he 
 had conceived many years before, of entering the Par- 
 liament of England. His failure there is well known. 
 His habits had been already formed for an Irish 
 audience, and, as Grattan said of him, ' he was an oak 
 of the forest too great and too old to be transplanted 
 at fifty.' He was also guilty of much imprudence. 
 Desiring to act in the most independent manner, he 
 proclaimed openly that he would not identify himself 
 with cither of the great parties in Parliament. He 
 tlius prejudiced both sides of the House against him, 
 and deprived himself of that support which is of such 
 great consequence to a debater. He spoke first on the 
 India Bill, which ultimately led to the downfall of the 
 Coalition Ministry. It was a subject about which he 
 knew very little ; but he rose, as a practised speaker 
 often docs, to make a few remarks in a conversational 
 tone, to detect some flaw in a preceding speaker's 
 argument, or to throw light upon some particular 
 section of the subject, without intending to make an 
 elaborate speech, or to review the entire question. 
 Immediately from the lobbies and the coffee-room the 
 members came crowding in, anxious to hear a speaker 
 of whom such great expectations were entertained. 
 He seems to have thought that it would be disrespect- 
 ful to those members to sit down at once, so he con- 
 tinued extempore, and soon showed his little knowledge 
 of the subject. Wlien he concluded, there was a 
 
niS ENGLISH CAREER. 101 
 
 universal feeling of disappointment. A member 
 named Courtenay rose, and completed his discomfiture 
 by a most virulent and satirical attack, which the rules 
 of the House prevented him from answering. It is 
 liardly necessary to say that Courtenay was an Irishman. 
 He confessed afterwards to Lord Eyron that he had 
 been actuated by a personal motive.^ 
 
 After this failure. Flood scarcely ever spoke again. 
 Once, however, in 1790, his genius shone out witli 
 something: of its old brilliancv in brinn:inor forward a 
 Keform Bill. His proposition was that 100 members, 
 chosen by county household suffrage, should be added 
 to the House ; and the speech in which he defended it 
 was much admired by all parties. Burke said that lie 
 had retrieved his reputation. Fox declared that his 
 proposition was the best that liad been proposed, and 
 Pitt based his opposition to it almost exclusively upon 
 the distm-bed state of public affairs. It is to be hoped 
 tliat these praises in some degree soothed his mind, 
 which must have been bitterly mortified by his previous 
 disappointment. In his reply upon this question, 
 when answering some charge that had been brought 
 against him, he alluded in a very touching manner to 
 the isolation of his position. ' I appeal to you,' he 
 said, ' whether my conduct has been tliat of an advo- 
 cate or an agitator ; whether I have often trespassed 
 upon your attention ; whether ever, except on a ques- 
 tion of importance ; and whether I then wearied you 
 with ostentation or prolixity. I am as independent 
 
 ' Wraxall, spcakinj; of Flood's failure, says: 'The slow, measured, 
 and sententious style of enunciation wliich characterised his eloquence, 
 however calculated to cxcito admiration it might be in the senate of the 
 Bister kingdom, appeared to English ears cold, stiff, and deficient in 
 some of the best recommendations to attention.' This passage is very 
 curious, as showing how little the present popular conception of Irish 
 elorjucnce prevailed in the last century. 
 
102 IIENRT FLOOD. 
 
 in fortune and nature as the honourable member him- 
 self. I have no fear but that of doing wrong, nor have 
 I a hope on the subject but that of doing some service 
 before I die. The accident of my situation has not 
 made me a partisan ; and I never lamented that situa- 
 tion till now that I find myself as unprotected as I 
 fear the people of England will be on this occasion.' 
 After this he only made one other speech —on the French 
 treaty — of any importance. He is said in his last years 
 to have retired much from society, and his temper 
 l)ecamc gloomy and morose. He died in 1791. 
 
 When he felt death approaching he requested his 
 attendant to leave the room, and he drew his last 
 breath alone. Faithful to the end to the interests of 
 liis country, he left a large property to the Dublin 
 University, cliiefly for the encouragement of the study 
 of Irish, and for the purchase of Irish manuscripts. 
 
 There is something inexpressibly melancholy in the 
 life of tliis man. From his earliest youth his ambition 
 seems to liave been to identify himself with the freedom 
 of his country. But though he attained to a position 
 wliich, before him, had been unknown in Ireland ; 
 tliough the unanimous verdict of his contemporaries 
 pronounced Ijim to be one of the greatest intellects 
 that ever adorned the Irish Parliament ; and, thougli 
 tliere is not a single act of his life which may not be 
 construed in a sense perfectly in harmony with honour 
 and witJi patriotism, yet his career presents one long 
 series of disappointments and reverses. At an age 
 when most statesmen are in the zenith of their influence 
 lie sank into political impotence. The party he had 
 formed discarded him as its leader. The reputation 
 he so dearly prized was clouded and assailed ; the prin- 
 ciples he had soami germinated and fructified indeed, 
 but otiicrs reaped tlieir fruit, and lie is iiov^ scarcely 
 
DECLINE OF UIS RErUTATION. 103 
 
 remembered except as the object of a powerful invec- 
 tive in Ireland, and as an example of a deplorable 
 failure in England. A few pages of oratory, which 
 probably at best only represent the substance of his 
 speeches, a few youthful poems, a few laboured letters, 
 and a biography so meagre and so unsatisfactory that it 
 scarcely gives us any insight into his character, are all 
 that remain of Henry Flood. The period in which he 
 lived, a jealous and uncertain temper, and two or three 
 lamentable mistakes of judgment, were fatal to his 
 reputation ; and he laboured for a people who have 
 usually been peculiarly indifferent to the reputation of 
 their great men. We may say of him as Grattan said of 
 Kirwan : ' The curse of Swift was upon him, to have 
 been born an Irishman and a man of genius, and to 
 have used his talents for his country's good.' 
 
HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 A PAPER was found in Swift's desk after his death, con- 
 taining a list of his friends, classified as grateful, ungrate- 
 ful, and indifferent. In this list tlie name of Grattan 
 occurs three times, and each time it is marked as grate- 
 ful. The family was one of some weight in the country, 
 and the father of the subject of the present sketch was 
 Recorder and Member for Dublin. As I Iiave already 
 had occasion to observe, Dr. Lucas was his colleague 
 and his opponent, and a bitter animosity, both personal 
 and political, subsisted between them. The Recorder 
 seems to have been a man of a violent and overbearing 
 temper, firmly wedded to liis own opinions, and ex- 
 ceedingly intolerant of contradiction. He was greatly 
 exasperated with his son for adopting Liberal politics, 
 and he carried his resentment so far as to mark his 
 displeasure in his will. Henry Grattan was born in 
 the year 1746. From his earliest youth he manifested 
 tlie activity of his intellect, and the force and energy 
 of his character. Some foolish nursery tales having 
 produced in his mind those superstitious fears that are 
 so common among children, he determined, when a 
 mere boy, to emancipate himself from their control, 
 and was accustomed to go at midnight into a church- 
 yard near his father's house, where he remained till 
 every qualm of terror had subsided. At the University 
 he distinguished himself greatly, and acquired a 
 passion for the classics, and especially for the great 
 orators of antiquity, that never deserted him through 
 life. Long before he obtained a scat in Parliament ho 
 
STUDIES ORATORY. 105 
 
 had begun to cultivate eloquence. His especial models 
 were Bolingbroke and Junius, and his metliod was 
 constant recitation. He learnt by heart certain pas- 
 sages of his speeches, and continually revolved tliern 
 in his mind till he had elirainated all those almost 
 imperceptible prolixities that exist in nearly every 
 written composition. By this method he brought his 
 sentences to a degree of nervousness and of condensa- 
 tion that is scarcely paralleled in oratory. Several 
 anecdotes are told of the difficulties into which his 
 passion for recitation brought him. On one occa- 
 sion his landlady in England requested his friends to 
 remove that mad young gentleman who was always 
 talking to himself, or addressing an imaginary person 
 called iMr. Speaker. On anotJier, when apostrophising 
 a gibbet in Windsor Forest, he was interrupted by a 
 tap on tlie slioulder, and a curious enquiry as to how 
 he liad got down. His letters written at this time 
 show that he was subject to violent fits of despond- 
 cnc}'', and they betray also a morbidness that is singu- 
 larly unlike his character in after-years. 
 
 Shortly after leaving the University he was called to 
 tlic Bar, and resided for some time in tlie Temple, wliero 
 lie probably occupied himself much more in tlie study 
 of oratory than of law. He had obtained access to 
 tlie House of Lords, and had come completely under 
 the spell of Lord Chatham's eloquence. He wrote an 
 elaborate character of Chatham, which was inserted in 
 'Baratariana;' and in a letter written some years later 
 lie gives a long and very minute description of his 
 style of speaking. The following extract will be read 
 with 2:)leasure, as forming a very vivid description of 
 the most eflective of British orators: 'He was very 
 great, but very odd ; he spoke in a style of conversa- 
 tion ; not, however, what I expected. It was not a 
 
iOG HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 speecli, for he never came with a prepared liaraiigue. 
 His style was not regular oratory, like Cicero or Demos- 
 thenes, but it was very fine and very elevated, and 
 above the ordinary subjects of discourse. . . . Lord 
 JNIansfield, perhaps, would have argued the case better ; 
 Charles Townshend would have made a better speech ; 
 but there was in Lord Chatham a grandeur and a 
 manner which neither had, and which was peculiar to 
 liim. AVhat Cicero says in his "Claris Oratoribus" 
 exactly applies : " Formoo dignitas, corporis motus, 
 plenus ct artis et venustatis, vocis et suavitas et mag- 
 nitudo." His gesture was always graceful. He was an 
 incomparable actor ; had it not been so he would have 
 appeared ridiculous. His address to the tapestry and 
 to Lord Effingham's memory required an incomparable 
 actor, and he was that actor. Jlis tones were remark- 
 ably pleasing. I recollect his pronouncing one word 
 — effete — in a soft, charming accent. His son could 
 not have pronounced it better. He was often called 
 to order. On one occasion he said, " I hope some 
 dreadful calamity will befall the country that will 
 open the eyes of the King ; '' and then he introduced 
 the allusion to the figure drawing the curtains of 
 Priam, and gave the quotation. He was called to order. 
 He stopjDed and said, "What I have spoken I liave spoken 
 conditionally, but now I retract the condition. I speak 
 absolutely, and I do hope that some signal calamity 
 will befall the country;" and he repeated what lie had 
 said. He then fired and oratorised, and grew extremely 
 eloquent. Ministers, seeing what a difficult character 
 they had to deal with, thought it best to let him pro- 
 ceed. On one occasion, addressing Lord Mansfield, lie 
 said, " Who are the evil advisers of his jNIajesty? Is 
 it you? is it you? is it you?" (pointing to the Minis- 
 ters, luitil he came near Lord Mansfield). Tliere were 
 
DESCRIPTION OF CnATHAM. 107 
 
 several lords round him, and Lord Chatham said, " My 
 Lords, please to take your seats." When they had sat 
 down, he pointed to Lord Mansfield and said, "Is it 
 you ? Methinks Felix trembles." It required a great 
 actor to do this. Done by any one else it would have 
 been miserable ^y]len he came to the argumen- 
 tative part of his speech, he lowered his tone so as to 
 be scarcely audible ; and he did not lay so much stress 
 on those parts as on the great bursts of genius and tlie 
 sublime passages. He had studied action, and his 
 gesture was graceful, and had a most powerful effect. 
 His speeches required good acting, and he gave it to 
 tlicra. Their impression was great. His manner was 
 dramatic. In this it was said that he was too much of 
 a mountebank, but, if so, it was a great mountebank. 
 Perhaps he was not so good a debater as his son, but he 
 was a much better orator, a better scholar, and a far 
 greater man. Great subjects, great empires, great 
 characters, effulgent ideas, and classical illustrations, 
 formed tlie material of his speeches.' 
 
 It is curious that Grattan, who was so sensible to the 
 advantages of a graceful delivery in others, should 
 have been alwavs remarkable for the extreme singfu- 
 larity and awkwardness of his own, Byron, who other- 
 wise admired his speaking exceedingly, called it a 
 ' harlequin manner.' ^ O'Connell said that he nearly 
 swept the ground with his gestures, and the motion of 
 his arms has been compared to the rolling of a ship in 
 a heavy swell. 
 
 While the genius of Chatham had stimulated the 
 ambition of Grattan to the highest degree, the friend- 
 ship of Flood was directing his enthusiasm in the 
 
 • This ^as in prose. In his poetry lie described Grattan as 
 
 • "With all that Demosthenes wanted endowed, 
 And his rival or victor in all he possessed.' 
 
 7he Irish Avatar. 
 
108 HENRY GHATTAN. 
 
 channel of Irish politics. These two men, afterwards 
 such bitter rivals, were at first intimate friends ; and 
 the experience and the counsel of Flood had un- 
 doubtedly great influence in moulding the character 
 of Grattan. They declaimed together, they acted 
 together in private theatricals, they wrote togetlier in 
 ' Baratariana,' and they discussed together the prospects 
 of their party. 
 
 In 1775 Lord Charlemont brouglit Grattan into 
 Parliament. The circumstances \vere, in some respects, 
 very favourable for the display of liis genius, for the 
 patriotic party had lost its leader, and there was no one 
 to assert its principles with effect. Grattan cannot 
 with any justice be accused of having supplanted 
 Flood. lie simply occupied the position which wag 
 vacant, and which liis extraordinary eloquence natu- 
 rally gave him. Whatever opinion miglit be enter- 
 tained among his hearers of the w^isdom of his political 
 views, or of his judgment, tliere could be no question 
 that he was from the very commencement of his 
 career by far the greatest orator of the day. Wlien, 
 therefore, the party found themselves deserted by 
 their old leader, tliey naturally rallied around tlic 
 one man whose alnlities were sufficient to supply liis 
 place. 
 
 The eloquence of Grattan, in his best days, was in 
 some respects perhaps the finest that has been heard 
 in either country since the time of Chatham. Con- 
 sidered simply as a debater, he was certainly inferior 
 to both Fox and Pitt, and perhaps to Sheridan ; but 
 lie combined two of the very highest qualities of a great 
 orator to a degree that was almost unexampled. No 
 British orator except Chatham had an equal power of 
 firing an educated audience -with an intense enthu- 
 siasm, or of animating and inspiring a nation. No 
 
HIS ELOQUENCE. 109 
 
 British orator except Burke had an equal power of 
 sowino^ his speeches with profound aphorisms and 
 associating transient questions with eternal truths. His 
 thoughts naturally crystallised into epigrams ; his 
 arguments were condensed with such admirable force 
 and clearness that they assumed almost the appear- 
 ance of axioms ; and they were often interspersed with 
 sentences of concentrated poetic beauty, which flashed 
 upon the audience with all the force of sudden inspir- 
 ation, and which were long remembered and repeated. 
 Some of his best speeches combined much of the value 
 of philosophical dissertations with ail the charm of the 
 most brilliant declamation. I know, indeed, none in 
 modern times, except those of Burke, from which the 
 student of politics can derive so many profound and 
 valuable maxims of political wisdom, and none which 
 are more useful to those who seek to master that art of 
 condensed energy of expression in which he almost 
 equalled Tacitus. His eloquence had nothing of the 
 harmonious and unembarrassed flow of Pitt or of 
 Plunket ; and he had no advantages of person and no 
 grace and dignity of gesture; butliis strange, writhing 
 contortions, and the great apparent effort lie often dis- 
 played, added an effect of surprise to the sudden gleams 
 of luminous argument — to tlie severe and concentrated 
 declamation — to the terseness of statement and tJie 
 exf[uisite felicities of expression with which he adorned 
 every discussion. O'Connell, comparing him to Pitt, 
 said that he wanted the sustained dignity of tliat 
 speaker, but that Pitt's speeclies were always speedily 
 forgotten, while G rattan was constantly saying things 
 that were remembered. I [is speeches show no wit and 
 no skill in the lighter forms of sarcasm ; but he was 
 almost unrivalled in crushing invective, in delinea- 
 tions of character, and in brief, keen arguments. In 
 
110 HENIIT G RATTAN. 
 
 carrying on a train of sustained reasoning he was not so 
 happy. Flood is said to have been liis superior ; and 
 none of liis speeches in this respect are comparable to 
 tliat c»f Fox on the Westminster scrutiny. 
 
 The extraordinary excellence of his speaking con- 
 sisted much more in its wonderful positive merits than 
 in its purity or freedom from defects. There was no 
 conscious atfectation in liis nature, but he had an 
 intense mannerism, which appeared equally in his 
 speaking and in his private life — in almost everything 
 he said or wrote. He rarely said simple things in 
 a simple way; and the quaint peculiarities of his 
 diction appeared as strongly in his conversation and 
 in his unstudied replies as in his elaborate orations. 
 His compositions were almost always overloaded wdth 
 epigram and antithesis, and his metaphors were often 
 forced, sometimes confused and inaccurate, and occa- 
 sionally even absurd. But with all these defects very 
 few speakers of any age or country have equalled him 
 in originality, in fire, and in persuasive force. In one 
 respect he would probably have had more influence in 
 our day than in his own, for the reporter's pen would 
 have concealed most of his defects and magnified most 
 of his merits. The political orator now speaks less to 
 those who are assembled within the walls of Parliament 
 than to the public outside. The charm of manner, the 
 music of the modulated tone, have lost their old supre- 
 macy, while the power of condensed and vivid expression 
 has acquired an increased value. He who can furnish t he 
 watchwords of party, the epigrams of debate, will now 
 exercise the greatest and most abiding influence. A 
 Imndred pens Avill reproduce his words, nnd they will 
 l.)e repeated as proverbs when the most ])rilliant dis- 
 plaj^s of difTusive rhetoric are forgotten. 
 
 Much of the great influence of the speaking of 
 
MAINTAINS THE INDEPENDENCE OF TAIILIAMENT. Ill 
 
 G rattan was undoubtedly due to moral causes. There 
 was a certain transparent simplicity and rectitude of 
 purpose, a manifest disinterestedness, a fervid enthu- 
 siasm of patriotism in his character, which added 
 greatly to the effect of his eloquence, and gave him an 
 ascendency that was exercised by none of his contem- 
 poraries in Ireland. In purely intellectual endowments 
 he was probably equalled by Plunket ; but Plunket 
 never exercised even a perceptible influence upon 
 public opinion, while Grattan in a gi'eat degree formed 
 the character of the nation. From the very begmnmg 
 of his career his eloquence became the great vivifying 
 principle in. the patriotic party, and every question 
 received a new impulse from liis advocacy. 
 
 I liave already enumerated the principal objects of 
 the party with which Grattan was connected. He 
 assisted Burgh and Flood in carrying the free-trade 
 question to a triumphant issue, lie endeavoured, 
 thouo-h unsuccessfully, to place the Irish army under 
 the control of the Parliament ; and, above all, he 
 o-ave an unprecedented impulse to the great cause of 
 parliamentary independence. In April 1780 he moved 
 ' that no person on earth, save the King, Lords, and 
 Commons of Ireland, lias a right to make laws for 
 Irelmd ' This motion he introduced with a speech ot 
 splendid eloquence, and the effect produced by it was 
 very oreat. Flood, however, perceived that it was 
 somewliat premature and would have been defeated, 
 and at his suggestion it was withdrawn. This debate 
 liad a considerable effect in eliciting the feelings of 
 the people, and the sentiments of the Parliament are 
 sufficiently shown by the letters of Lord Buckntngham 
 ^•ho was then Viceroy, to tlie Government m England. 
 'It is with the utmost concern,' he wrote, ' I must ac- 
 quaint your lordship that although so many gentlemen 
 
112 nEXRT GRATTAN. 
 
 expressed their concern that the subject had been in- 
 troduced, the sense of the House against the obliga- 
 tion of any statutes of the Parliament of Great Britain 
 within this kingdom is represented to me to have been 
 almost unanimous.' Shortly after this debate the 
 Volunteer Convention assembled at Dungannon to 
 throw their influence into the scale. Grattan, in 
 co-operation with Flood and Charlemont, drew up a 
 series of resolutions, which were adopted unanimously, 
 asserting the Irish independence ; and Grattan, alone, 
 drew up another resolution expressing the gratification 
 with which the Volunteers had witnessed the relaxation 
 of tlie penal code. It is scarcely possible to exaggerate 
 the importance of this last resolution. It marked the 
 solemn union between the two gTeat sections of Irish- 
 men for the purpose of obtaining the recognition of 
 tlieir country's rights. It showed that the old policy 
 of governing Ireland by the division of her sects had 
 failed ; and tliat if the independence of Parliament 
 were to be withheld, it must bo withheld in opposition 
 to a nation united and in arms. 
 
 The Government at length yielded. Tlie Duke of 
 Portland was sent over as Lord-Lieutenant, with per- 
 mission to concede the required boon. At the last 
 moment an etfort was made to procure a delay, but 
 Grattan refused to grant it ; and on the IGtli of April 
 1782, amid an outburst of almost un^iaralleled enthu- 
 siasm, the declaration of independence was brought 
 forward. On that day a large body of the Volunteers 
 were drawn up, in front of the old Parliament House of 
 Ireland. Far as the 03^0 could stretch the morning 
 eun glanced upon their weapons and upon their flags ; 
 and it was through their parted ranks that Grattan 
 passed to move the emancipation of his country. Never 
 had a great orator a nobler or a more j^leasiug task. It 
 
DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 113 
 
 was to proclaim that the strife of six centuries had 
 terminated ; that the cause for which so much blood 
 had been shed, and so much genius expended in vain, 
 had at last triumphed ; and that a new era had 
 dawned upon Ireland. Doubtless on that day many 
 minds reverted to the long night of oppression and 
 crime through which Ireland had struggled towards 
 that conception which had been as the pillar of fire on 
 her path. But now at last the promised land seemed 
 reached. The dream of Swift and of Molyneux was 
 realised. The blessings of independence were recon- 
 ciled with the blessings of connection ; and in an 
 emancipated Parliament the patriot saw the guarantee 
 of the future prosperity of his country and the Shekinal) 
 of liberty in tlie land. It was impossible indeed not 
 to perceive that tliere was still much to be done — 
 disqualifications to be removed, anomalies to be recti- 
 fied, corruption to be overcome ; but Grattan at least 
 firmly believed that Ireland possessed the vital force 
 necessary for all this, that tlie progress of a healtliy 
 public opinion would regenerate and reform the Irish 
 Parliament as it regenerated and reformed the I*ar- 
 liament of England ; and that every year the sense 
 of independence would quicken the sympathy between 
 the people and their representatives. It was indeed 
 a noble triumph, and the orator was worthy of tlie 
 cause. In a few glowing sentences he painted the 
 dreary struggle that had passed, the magnitude of 
 the victory that had been achieved, and the grandeur 
 of the prospects that were unfolding. 'I am now,* 
 he exclaimed, ' to address a free people. Ages hav(i 
 passed away, and this is the first moment in whicli 
 you could be distinguished by that appellation. I have 
 spoken on the subject of your liberty so often that I 
 have nothing to add, and have only to admire by what 
 
114 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 heaven-directed steps you have proceeded until the 
 whole faculty of the nation is braced up to the act of 
 her own deliverance. I found Ireland on her knees ; I 
 watched over her w^ith a paternal solicitude ; I have 
 traced lier progress from injuries to arms, and from arms 
 to liberty. Spirit of Swift, spirit of IMolyneux, your 
 genius has prevailed I Ireland is now a nation. In 
 that character I hail her, and, bowing in her august 
 presence, I say esto perpetua /' 
 
 The concession was made, on the whole, with no un- 
 grudging hand, and in a few years most of the badges 
 of subserviency whicli the Irish Protestants had worn 
 w^re discarded. Between 1778 and 1782 the com- 
 mercial restrictions were almost all abolished ; the 
 judges were made immovable ; the duration of Parlia- 
 ment w^as limited ; the army was placed in subordi- 
 nation to the Parliament; the appellate jurisdiction 
 of the House of Lords, which had been destroyed in 
 1719, was restored, and the independence of the Irish 
 Legislature was recognised. Immediately after the con- 
 cession of independence a day of thanksgiving was 
 appointed to consecrate the triumph, and a vote for 
 the support of twenty thousand sailors for the English 
 navy was agreed upon. This last was almost the first 
 measure of the emancipated Parliament. In this, as 
 in every other period of his career, Grattan was anxious 
 to show in the most unequivocal manner the sympathy 
 of Ireland with England, and the compatibility of an 
 ardent love of independence with a devoted attachment 
 to the connection. He said himself, ' I am desirous 
 above all things, next to the liberty of the country, not 
 to accustom the Irish mind to an alien or suspicious 
 habit with regard to Great Britain.' 
 
 Wliile the gi-eatest Irishmen in Ireland were thus 
 working out the freedom of their country, the greatest 
 
COKTROYERSY WITH FLOOD. 115 
 
 Irislimnii in England wrote to encourage them and to 
 exprcs liis approval of the work. 'I am convinced, 
 wrote ]5urke to Lord Charlemont, Uhat no reluctant 
 tie can be a strong one, and that a natural, cheerful 
 alliance, will be a far more secure link of connection 
 Mian any principle of subordination borne with grudg- 
 in- and discontent.' The Whig party, who were for a 
 brLf period in power, appear to have concmTed m 
 this view; and Fox, in one of his speeches m 1/97, 
 expressed it very unequivocally. 'I would have the 
 Irish crovcrnment,' he said, ' regulated by Irish notions 
 pnd Irish prejudices, and I am convinced tliat the 
 more she is under Irish government the more she will 
 ],c bound to English interests.' » 
 
 The Parliament at this time determined to mark its 
 recoo-nition of the services of Grattan by a grant of 
 100 W. Grattan, however, refused to receive so 
 laro^ a sum, and was witli some difficulty induced to 
 •iccvpt luilf. This grant enabled him to devote himself 
 rvclu.ivelv t3 the service of the country without 
 i>ractisin.-at the Bar, to which he had been called. 
 
 I need'not revert at length to the question of Simple 
 Repeal, which I have already so fully considered. The 
 aro-uments on each side of that controversy must be 
 admitted to have been very nicely balanced, and the 
 authorities were also very evenly divided. Grattan 
 reckoned among the supporters of his view Charlemont, 
 Fox, the Irish chief justices and chief baron, and 
 several other Irish legal authorities. He had, however, 
 injured his cause greatly by bringing forward a resolu- 
 tion declaring that all who asserted that England had 
 authority over Ireland were enemies to the country— a 
 resolution which was wholly indefensible, which Flood 
 most triumphantly assailed, and which, after a short 
 
 ' Quoted by Lord J. Russell in 1S37. Sec Ann. Reg. 1S37, p. 31. 
 
116 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 discussion, was witlidrawn. He was also, as it appears 
 to me, guilty of a grave error in not urging at this 
 time more vehemently the question of Parliamentary 
 Reform. After their famous conflict, the two rivals 
 co-operated successfully in opposing some commercial 
 arrangements known as Orde's Propositions, which 
 were brought forward in 1785, and which, by denying 
 the Irish Parliament the right of initiation on com- 
 mercial matters, trenched upon the independence of 
 Ireland. 
 
 In December 1783 Pitt's Ministry began. It appears, 
 from one of the letters of Pitt, that at the beginning 
 of his career he contemplated reforming the Irish as 
 well as the English Parliament ; but in this, as in 
 nearly every portion of liis policy, he speedily apostatised 
 to the views of the Tory party, who had brought him 
 into power, and resisted every remedial measure which 
 was likely to prove in the least embarrassing or danger- 
 ous to his Ministry. During many years of the Ministry 
 of Pitt which preceded the Union, the Irish adminis- 
 tration almost uniformly opposed every effort to reform 
 tlie Parliament. One of the greatest causes of com- 
 plaint was the Pension List. The enormity of the 
 grievance is sufficiently shown by the fact that the 
 money spent in pensions in Ireland was not merely 
 relatively, but absolutely, greater than was expended 
 for that purpose in England ; that the pension list 
 trebled in the first thirty years of George III. ; and 
 that in 1793 it amounted to no less than 124,000/. 
 liepeated efforts were made to reduce tliis list, which 
 was so detrimental to the disordered finances of the 
 country, and so fatal to the purity of Parliament. 
 Grattan brought forward the subject in 1785 and in 
 1791, but on both occasions Government threw their 
 influence into the opposite scale, and he was ccfeated. 
 
imsn ECCLESIASTICAL HISTOHT. 117 
 
 In 1789 Grattan disagreed with Titt's Ministry on the 
 Kegency question, and maintained with Fox that the 
 madness of the King was to be regarded as tantamount 
 to his death, and that while it lasted his son rightfully 
 possessed the full powers of royalty. The Irish Parlia- 
 ment adopted this View, and there was some danger of 
 a serious collision with England, when the recovery of 
 the Kin<r solved the difficulty. But the great question 
 which at this time agitated the public mind was the 
 position of the Eoman Catholics— a question which 
 has long been the most fertile cause of dissension and 
 controversy in Ireland. , . - • i 
 
 There are few more curious pages in ecclesiastical 
 history than that which records the various phases of 
 (.niristianity in Ireland. Its first introduction is lost 
 in the obscurity of antiquity, but we find it existing, 
 thouo-h in a very feeble condition, in the middle of the 
 fifth°century, when Palladius and St. Patrick came 
 over to re-animate it. Palladius was sent from Rome 
 by Pope Celestine ; his mission was wholly unsuc- 
 cessful, and he very soon left Ireland. From what 
 quarter St. Patrick derived his authority is a question 
 which is still fiercely debated between the members of 
 the rival creeds. It seems plain that under his auspices 
 Christianity spread over the entire island ; that the 
 Cluirch continued for several centuries in a flourishing 
 condition : that it existed very independently of Rome ; 
 and that in the famous Easter controversy it warmly 
 upheld the Oriental opinion. , r 4-1, 
 
 The Irish monasteries soon became famed for the 
 piety and the learning that emanated from them, and 
 many pilgrims from many lands sought instruction 
 within their walls. Amongst others, Oswald, the son 
 of the King of Northumbria, was educated and con- 
 vorted to Christianity by the Irish monks ; and, when 
 
118 IIENLY CrwVTTxVN. 
 
 he came to the throne, he invited his old preceptors to 
 plant a mission in his dominions, and established the 
 monastery of Lindisfarne. It was the rare fortune of 
 the monks of Lindisfarne to have three successive 
 priors who were so stainless in their character, so 
 winning in their manners, and so gentle in their 
 controversies, that they prepossessed all who knew 
 them in behalf of their religion, and extorted expres- 
 sions of the warmest admiration even from an historian * 
 who was an opponent of tlieir views. Their zeal was 
 equal to their gentleness, and their success to their 
 deserts, and by their means the light of Christianity 
 was spread over nearly the whole of the north of 
 England. At last, however, they came into collision 
 with the Roman party on the Easter question ; and 
 the genius and the energy of AVilfrid, the Eoman 
 champion, having gained the victory, they returned to 
 their own country. In Ireland the Pope obtained a 
 certain influence amid the civil wars that distracted the 
 land, but his authority was never generally recognised 
 till the English invasion. The English King, having 
 obtained letters from two successive Pontiffs conferring 
 Ireland upon him, on account of its separation from the 
 See of Kome, and on condition of tlie payment of Peter's 
 pence, convened a council at Cashel, which formally im- 
 posed the Roman yoke on the nation from which Eng- 
 land had received a Christianity separate from Rome. 
 
 If we overleap the next few centuries, we find that 
 at the time of the Reformation Ireland was the only 
 northern country in which the reformed tenets never 
 made way. The explanation of this phenomenon is 
 beyond all question to be found in the policy of Eng- 
 land. The Irish regarded Protestantism as identified 
 with a nation which was the object of their deepest 
 
 » Ledo. 
 
rOLICT OF CROiT^ELL. 119 
 
 abhorrence. Elizabeth, who was its great representa- 
 tive, had spread desolation and disaster over the greater 
 part of their land. She had shown herself anxious to 
 propagate the Reformed faith, but still more anxious 
 to eradicate the nationality of Ireland. To effect the 
 former object she enjoined that the Anglican service 
 should everywhere be celebrated ; to effect> the latter 
 she forbade its being celebrated in the Irish tongue. 
 Where the people could not understand English, it was 
 gravely ordered that the service might be translated 
 into Latin. The consequence was what might have 
 been anticipated. The people continued in their old 
 faith, and England was tluis the means of consolidating 
 and perpetuating that religion which has ever proved 
 the most insuperable obstacle to her policy. 
 
 The next great representative of Protestantism in 
 England was Cromwell, whose Irish policy is well 
 known. An illustrious living writer has discovered a 
 transcendent, and even religious, grandeur in the mas- 
 sacres of Drogheda and of Wexford, but it must be 
 admitted that they were not calculated to prepossess 
 the Irish mind in favour of Protestantism. We may 
 observe, too, that the Puritans acted throughout as 
 religionists. Every soldier was an ardent theologian, 
 and never more so than when, with a text from Joshua 
 in his mouth, he was hewing the misbeliever to the 
 ground. The war of races and the recollection of the 
 Irish massacre seem to have all given w^ay to the fierce 
 hatred of the Man of Sin, that had steeled every heart 
 and whetted every sword. Had Cromwell's policy been 
 persisted in for a few generations, Catholicism in 
 Ireland might have perished in blood ; but, as it was, 
 it only deepened the chasm between the two religions, 
 and inspired the Eoman Catholics with a still more 
 intense hatred of the dominant creed. 
 
120 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 The last great Protestant ruler of England was Wil- 
 liam III., who is identified in Ireland with the humi- 
 liation of the Boyne, with the destruction of Irish 
 trade, and with the broken treaty of Limerick. The 
 ceaseless exertions of the extreme Protestant party 
 have made him more odious in the eyes of the people 
 than he deserves to be ; for he was personally far more 
 tolerant than the great majority of his contemporaries, 
 and the penal code was chiefly enacted under his suc- 
 cessors. It required, indeed, four or five reigns to 
 elaborate a system so ingeniously contrived to de- 
 moralise, to degrade, and to impoverish the people of 
 Ireland. By tliis code the Koman Catholics were abso- 
 lutely excluded from the Parliament, from the magis- 
 tracy, from the corporations, from the bench, and from 
 the bar. They could not vote at parliamentary elec- 
 tions or at vestries. They could not act as constables, 
 or sheriffs, or jurymen, or serve in the army or navy, 
 or become solicitors, or even hold the positions of 
 gamekeeper or watchman. Schools were established 
 to bring up their children as Protestants ; and if they 
 refused to avail themselves of these, they were deli- 
 berately consigned to hopeless ignorance, being ex- 
 cluded from tlie University, and debarred, under crush- 
 ing penalties, from acting as schoolmasters, as ushers, 
 or as private tutors, or from sending their cliildren 
 abroad to obtain the instruction they were refused at 
 home. They could not marry Protestants ; and if such 
 a marriage w^ere celebrated it was annulled by law, and 
 the priest who officiated might be hung. They could 
 not buy land, or inherit or receive it as a gift from 
 Protestants, or hold life annuities, or leases for more 
 than thirty-one years, or any lease on such terms that 
 the profits of the land exceeded one-third of the rent. 
 If any Catholic leaseholder by his industry so increased 
 
THE TENAL LAWS. 121 
 
 Ins profits that they exceeded this proportion, and did 
 not immediately make a corresponding increase in his 
 payments, any Protestant who gave the information 
 could enter into possession of liis farm. If any Catholic 
 liad secretly purchased either his old forfeited estate, 
 or any other land, any Protestant who informed against 
 him might hecome the proprietor. The few Catholic 
 landholders w^ho remained were deprived of the right 
 which all other classes possessed of bequeathing their 
 lands as tliey pleased. If tlieir sons continued Catho- 
 lics, it was divided equally between them. If, how- 
 ever, the eldest son consented to apostatise, tlie estate 
 was settled upon him, the father from that hour be- 
 came only a life tenant, and lost all power of selling, 
 mortgaging, or otherw^ise disposing of it. If the wife 
 of a Catholic abandoned the religion of her husband, 
 she w^as immediately free from his control, and the 
 Chancellor was empowered to assign to lier a certain 
 proportion of her husband's property. If any child, 
 however young, professed itself a Protestant, it was 
 at once taken from the father's care, and the Chan- 
 cellor could oblige the father to declare upon oath the 
 value of his property, both real and personal, and could 
 assign for the present maintenance and future portion 
 of the converted child such proportion of that pro- 
 perty as the court miglit decree. No Catholic could be 
 guardian either to his own children or to those of 
 another person : and therefore a Catholic who died 
 while his children were minors had the bitterness of 
 reflecting upon his death-bed that they must pass into 
 the care of Protestants. An annuity of from twenty 
 to forty pounds was provided as a bribe for every 
 I^riest who would become a Protestant. To convert 
 a Protestant to Catholicism was a capital offence. 
 In every walk of life the Catholic was pursued by 
 7 
 
122 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 persecution or restriction. Except in the linen trade, 
 be could not have more than two apprentices. He 
 could not possess a horse of the value of more than five 
 pounds, and any Protestant, on giving him five pounds, 
 could take his horse. He was compelled to pay double 
 to the militia. He was forbidden, except imder parti- 
 cular conditions, to live in Galway or Limerick. In 
 case of war with a Catholic power, the Catholics were 
 obliged to reimburse the damage done by the enemy's 
 privateers. Tlie Legislature, it is true, did not venture 
 absolutely to suppress their worship, but it existed 
 only by a doubtful connivance, — stigmatised as if it 
 were a species of licensed prostitution, and subject to 
 conditions which, if they had been enforced, would 
 have rendered its continuance impossible. An old law 
 which prohibited it, and another which enjoined atten- 
 dance at the Anglican worship, remained unrepealed, 
 and might at any time be revived; and the former 
 was, in fact, enforced during the Scotch rebellion of 
 1715. The parish priests, who alone were allowed to 
 officiate, were compelled to be registered, and were 
 forbidden to keep curates, or to officiate anywhere ex- 
 cept in their own parishes. The chapels might not 
 have bells or steeples. No crosses might be publicly 
 erected. Pilgrimages to the holy wells were forbidden. 
 Not only all monks and friars, but also all Catholic arch- 
 bishops, bishops, deacons, and other dignitaries, were 
 ordered by a certain day to leave the country; and if 
 after that date they were found in Ireland they were 
 liable to be first imprisoned and then banished ; and 
 if after that banishment they returned to discharge 
 their duty in their dioceses, they were liable to the 
 punishment of death. To facilitate the discovery of 
 offences against the code, two justices of the peace 
 might at any time compel any Catholic of eighteen 
 
THE TENAL LAWS. 123 
 
 years of age to declare when and where lie last heard 
 mass, what persons were present, and who officiated ; 
 and if he refused to give evidence they might imprison 
 him for twelve months, or until he paid a fine of 
 twenty pounds. Anyone who harboured ecclesiastics 
 from beyond the seas was subject to fines which for 
 the third offence amounted to the confiscation of all 
 his goods. A graduated scale of rewards was offered 
 for the discovery of Catholic bishops, priests, and 
 schoolmasters ; and a resolution of the House of Com- 
 mons pronounced ' the prosecuting and informing 
 against Papists' 'an honourable service to the Govern- 
 ment.' 
 
 Such were tlie principal articles of this famous code 
 — a code which Burke tridy described as ' w^cll digested 
 and well disposed in 'all its parts; a machine of wise 
 and elaborate contrivance, and as well fitted for the 
 oppression, impoverishment, and degradation of a 
 p eople , and tlK3^ebasement in them of human nature 
 itself, as ever proceeded from the perverted ingenuity 
 of man.' It was framed by a small minority of the 
 nation for the oppression of tlic majority who remained 
 faithful to tlie religion of their fathers. It w^as framed 
 by men who boasted that their creed rested upon pri- 
 vate judgment, and whose descendants are never weary 
 of declaiming upon tlie intolerance of Popery ; and it 
 was directed, in many of its provisions, against men; 
 religious observances; and w^as in all its parts so strictly 
 a code of religious persecution, that any Catholic 
 might be exempted from its operation by simply for- 
 saking his religion. It was framed and enforced, 
 although by the Treaty of Limerick the Catholics had 
 been guaranteed such privileges in the exercise of their 
 religion as they enjoyed in the reign of Charles II.. 
 although the Sovereign at the same time promised, 118 
 
124 IIENEY G RATTAN. 
 
 soon as liis affairs ^Yould permit, ' to summon a Parlia- 
 ment in this kingdom, and to endeavour to procure 
 the said Roman Catholics such further security in that 
 particular iis may preserve them from any disturbance 
 on account of their religion,' although not a single 
 overt act of treason "was proved against them, and 
 although they remained passive spectators of two rebel- 
 lions which menaced the very existence of the Protes- 
 tant dynasty in England. 
 
 It is impossible for any Irish Protestant, whose mind 
 is not wholly perverted by religious bigotry, to look 
 back w^ithout shame and indignation to the penal code. 
 The annals of persecution contain many more sangui- 
 nary pages. They contain no instance of a series of 
 laws more deliberately and ingeniously framed to debase 
 their victims, to bribe them in every stage of their 
 life to abandon their convictions, and to sow dissension 
 and distrust within the family circle. That the Irish 
 Parliament, in tlie last years of William, and in the 
 reigns of his two successors, was one of the most perse- 
 outino: lei2:islative assemblies that liavc ever sat, cannot 
 reasonably be questioned. Put, witliout descending to 
 tlie moral sopliistry wliich some writers have employed 
 in endeavouring to palliate these laws, tliere is some- 
 thing that may be truly said for tlie Irish Protestants. 
 The laws wliich had been passed in England and by 
 the English Parliament imder "William, for the oppres- 
 sion of Catliolics, were on the whole even more stringent 
 than those w^hich were subsequently passed in Ireland, 
 and some of the worst Irish Acts w^ere simply tran- 
 scripts of English laws. Tlic beginning of the Irish 
 penal code was a law passed in 1691 by the English 
 Parliament for excluding all Catholics from the Irish 
 one. The Irish Protestants sometimes surpassed in 
 bigotry the wishes of the English Cabinet, but yet a 
 
THE PENAL LAWS. 125 
 
 long succession of Lord-Lieutenants, speaking as the 
 representatives of the English Government, urged 
 increased severity against the ' common enemy,' and 
 among these Governors we find such men as Carteret 
 and Chesterfield. The spirit in which Ireland was 
 systematically governed in the early part of the 
 eighteenth century was well illustrated by the speech 
 of the Lords Justices to the Parliament in 1715, in 
 which they said, ' AVe must recommend to you, in the 
 present conjuncture, such unanimity in your resolu- 
 tions as may once more put an end to all other dis- 
 tinctions in Ireland than that of Protestant and Papist.' 
 The time when the Irish Parliament was most persecu- 
 ting, and the Irish Protestants were most fanatical, was 
 the time when the first was absolutely subservient to 
 foreign control, and when the latter considered them- 
 selves merely as a garrison in an enemy's country. No 
 sooner had a national spirit arisen among the Protes- 
 tants than the spirit of sectarianism declined. The 
 penal laws were never for any considerable time en- 
 forced in their full severity, and some parts of them 
 — especially those restricting the Catholic worship, 
 banishing bishops and friars, and prohibiting Catholic 
 schools — became in the latter and the greater part of 
 their existence a mere dead letter. JNIuch property 
 that would otherwise have passed to Protestants was 
 retained in Catliolic hands by legal fictions and by the 
 assistance or with the connivance of Protestants, and 
 the emancipated Parliament of Ireland carried the 
 policy of religious liberty much farther than the 
 Parliament of England. 
 
 The economical and moral efifects of the penal laws 
 were, however, profoundly disastrous. The productive 
 energies of the nation were fatally diminished. Almost 
 all Catholics of energy and talent who refused to 
 
12G HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 abandon their faith emigrated to foreign lands. The 
 relation of classes was permanently vitiated ; for almost 
 all the proprietary of the country belonged to one 
 religion, while the great majority of their tenants were 
 of another. The Catholics, excluded from almost every 
 possibility of eminence, deprived of their natural 
 leaders, and consigned by the J^egislature to utter 
 iofnorance. soon sank into the condition of broken and 
 dispirited helots. A total absence of industrial virtues, 
 a cowering and abject deference to authority, a reck- 
 lessness about the future, a love of secret illegal com- 
 binations, became general among them. Above all, 
 they learnt to regard law as merely tlie expression of 
 force, and its moral weight was utterly destroyed. For 
 the greater part of a century the main object of the 
 Legislature was to extirpate a religion by the encourngc- 
 mcnt of some of the worst and the punishment of some 
 of the best qualities of our nature. Its rewards were 
 reserved for the informer, for the hypocrite, for the 
 imdutiful son, or for the faithless wife. Its penalties 
 were directed against religious constancy and the 
 honest discharge of ecclesiastical duty. 
 
 It would, indeed, be scarcely possible to conceive a 
 more infamous system of legal tyranny than that which 
 in the middle of the eighteentli century crushed every 
 class and almost every interest in Ireland. The Par- 
 liament had been deprived of every vestige of inde- 
 pendence. The English House of Lords, by an act of 
 what appears to have been pure usurpation, had in 
 1719 assumed to itself the right of final judicature i; 
 Irish cases, and deprived the Irisli House of Lords of 
 all judicial powers. The English Chancellor, Lord 
 Macclesfield, had laid down the doctrine that 'the 
 English Courts of Justice have a superintendent power 
 over those of Ireland,' and are able to reverse their 
 
D]:rKE.SSION OF ALL CLASSES. 127 
 
 sentences. The Irish judges might at any time he 
 removed. IManufacturiug and commercial industry had 
 been deliberately crushed for the benefit of English 
 manufacturers, and the couatry was reduced to such a 
 state of poverty that in 1779 the Goverament was 
 compelled to borrow 50,0001. from England and 
 20,O00L from a private individual, to pay its troops. 
 At the same time a gigantic and ever-increasing pension 
 list was drawn from the scanty resources of the nation, 
 and was expended partly in corrupting its representa- 
 tives and partly in rewarding Englishmen or foreigners. 
 The mistresses of George I., the Queen Dowager of 
 Prussia, sister of George II., the Sardinian ambassador 
 who negotiated the Peace of Paris, were all on tlic 
 Irish pension lists. The most honourable and most 
 lucrative positions in Ireland were chiefly held by 
 Englishmen. The Lord-Lieutenant, the Chief Secre- 
 tary, and most of the other foremost political officers, 
 were always Englishmen. ;i^During the whole of the 
 eighteenth century there was not a single instance of 
 an Irishman holding the office of Archbishop of 
 Armagli ; and of tlie eighteen Archbishops of Dublin 
 and Cashel, ten were Englishmen, as were also nearly 
 all the chancellors and a large proportion of the 
 bishops and judges. And, while even the favoured 
 minority of the Irish people were thus systematically 
 depressed, the great majori ty were deprived of all poli- 
 tical privileges, excluded from almost all means of 
 acquiring v/eatJi, reduced by law into a pariah clas?, 
 and exposed to demoralising influences which even to 
 the present day have left their traces upon the national 
 character. -^ 
 
 There can be no question that in the higher ranks 
 of Catholics the penal laws produced a large amount of 
 formal apostacy. The desire of tlie Catholic landloid 
 
128 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 to keep his property in bis family was often strongei 
 than his religious feeling, and among professional men 
 very little scruple appears to have been felt. In a 
 remarkable letter to the Duke of Newcastle, written in 
 the early part of 1727, Primate Boulter complains 
 that ' the practice of the law from the top to the 
 bottom is at present mostly in the hands of new con- 
 verts, who give no farther security on this account than 
 producing a certificate of their having received the 
 Sacrament in the Church of England or Ireland, which 
 several of those who were Papists obtain on the road 
 hither, and demand to be admitted hamster in virtue 
 of it at their arrival ; and several of them have Popish 
 wives, and mass said in tlieir houses, and breed up 
 their children Papists. Things are at present so bad 
 with us that if about six should be removed from the 
 tlie Bar to the Bench here, there will not be a barrister 
 of note left that is not a convert.' In order to check 
 this state of things, a number of enactments were made 
 to compel converts to educate their children as Protes- 
 tants, and to subject those who refused and those who 
 married Papist wives to the same disabilities as if they 
 had not professed themselves Protestants. But the 
 movement of conversion to Protestantism was only in 
 the upper classes ; and it is a singTilarly curious fact 
 that at the worst period of tlie penal laws poor Protes- 
 tants were continually lapsing into Catholicism, while 
 the poor Catholics remained steadfast in tneir faith. 
 Primate Boulter, to check the movement, founded the 
 charter schools, which were intended to be the only 
 means of educating the Irish poor, and which were 
 essentially proselytising. ' I can assure you,' he writes 
 to the Bishop of London, 'the Papists are here so 
 numerous that it highly concerns us in point of in- 
 terest, as well as out of concern for the salvation of 
 
THE TENAL LATVS. 129 
 
 tliose poor <:reatures wlio are our fellow-subjects, to try 
 all possible means to bring them and tlieirs over to 
 the knowledge of the true religion ; and one of the 
 most likely methods we can think of is, if possible, 
 instructing and converting the young generation ; for 
 instead of converting those that are adult, we are daily 
 losing several of our meaner people, who go off to 
 
 Popery The ignorance and obstinacy of the 
 
 adult Papists is such th.at there is not much hope of 
 converting them.' 
 
 The history of the penal laws should, indeed, furnish 
 a lasting warning to persecutors of all religions. 
 Artliur Young asserts that the numerical proportion of 
 the Eoman Catholics in Ireland w^as not even dimi- 
 nished, if anything the reverse ; and that it w^as ad- 
 mitted, by those who asserted the contrary, that it would 
 take 4,000 years, according to the then rate of pro- 
 gress, to convert them. It was stated in Parliament 
 tliat only 4,055 had conformed in 71 y(?ars under the 
 system ; and what little the religion may have lost in 
 number it gained in intensity. The poorer classes in 
 Ireland emerged from tlieir long ordeal, penetrated 
 with an attachment to their religion almost unpa- 
 ralleled in Europe. With the exception of the inha- 
 bitants of Bavaria and the Tyrol, there is, perhaps, 
 no nation in Europe whose character has been so 
 completely moulded and permeated by it, or in which 
 sceptical doubts are more completely unknown. 
 
 Tlie code perished at last by its own atrocity. It 
 became after a time so out of harmony with the pre- 
 vailing tone of Iri.sh opinion that it ceased to bo 
 enforced, and tlie Irish Protestants took the initiative 
 in obtaining its mitigation. In 1768 a J3ill for this 
 purpose passed without a division in the Irish Parlia- 
 ment, but was lost in England. In 1774, 1778, 1782, 
 
130 IIENRT Cr.ATTAN. 
 
 and 1792, several Relief Bills became lav/. By these 
 Acts the Roman Catholics were admitted to most of 
 the privileges of their fellow-suhjects, except to poli- 
 tical power. Tliey still laboured imder three great 
 disqualifications : they could not possess the elective 
 franchise, they could not sit in Parliament, and they 
 could not nse to the higlier positions in the legal or 
 the military professions. Public opinion had begun 
 to show itself in their favour.^ As I have already 
 noticed, tlie Volunteers, who were at first exclusively 
 Protestants, and who were recruited chiefly in the 
 North, soon admitted Catholics into their ranks, and 
 would probably have gone further but for the in- 
 fluence of Charlemont and Flood. Burke espoused 
 tlieir cause warmly, wrote a petition for them, exerted 
 all his eloquence in their beiialf, and sent over his son 
 to assist them. But the man to whom they owed 
 the most was imdoubtedly Henry G rattan. He was 
 almost tlie onl}^ Irishman of note in Ireland who 
 at tliat time ceaselessly advocated their imqualified 
 
 ' All acute observer, Avri ting in 1770, thus discribcd the religious 
 .-■tiitc of Ireland : ' The rif^our of Pupisli bigotry is softening very fiist, 
 tin- rrotcstants are losing all biUcr remembrance of tliose evils -wliich 
 llieir ancestors suffered, and the two sects arc insensibly gliding into 
 the same common interests. The Protestants, through apprehensions 
 from the superior numbers of the Catholics, -svere eager to secure them- 
 selves in tlio powerful protcc;ion of an Englisli Minister, and to gain 
 this wore ready to comply witli his most exorbitant demands; the 
 Catholics were alike willing to embarrass the Protestants as their 
 natural foes ; but awakening from this delusion, they begin to condemn 
 lluir past follies, reflect with shame on having so long pLiycd the game 
 ().f an artful enemy, and arc convinc(d that witliout unjinimity tliey 
 never can obtain such consideration as may entitle thim to demand, 
 with any prospect of success, iho just and common rights of mankind. 
 Peligious bigotry is losing its force everywhere. Commercial and 
 not religious interests are tlie objects of almost every nation in Europe.' 
 — Pnfocc to the cdiiio?i (f Muli/ncux's ' Case of Ireland,' which appeared 
 in 1770. 
 
ADYOCATES EMANCIPATION. 
 
 131 
 
 emancipation. Flood, Charlemont, and Lucas had a 
 different theory. They foresaw that the admission of 
 the Koman Catholics to political equality would sooner 
 or later prove incompatible with the establishment of 
 the Church of the minority ; they were not prepared 
 to surrender that establishment, and they therefore 
 maintained that while the Koman Catholics sliould be 
 admitted to perfect toleration, they should not be 
 admitted to political power. This distinction Grattan 
 refused to i-ecognise. He argued that to exclude the 
 great bulk of the people from Parliament on account 
 of their religion was to inflict upon them a positive 
 injury, and to deprive them of all security for their toler- 
 ation. ' Civil and religious liberty,' he said in one of 
 liis speeches, ' depends on political power; the commu- 
 nity that has no share directly or indirectly in political 
 power has no security for its political libeity.' He 
 supported the establishment warmly and consistently,* 
 but he made a vigorous effort, in 1788, to substitute 
 some other mode of payment for the tithes, which were 
 cliiefly taken from the Koman Catholics. He believed 
 also, Hke most eminent men of his generation, that 
 the difference between the two religions was much 
 exaggerated; that it was continually lessening, and 
 tbar^he process of assimilation would be greatly ac- 
 celerated by the removal of tlie religious disabilities. 
 His speeches are full of intimations of this opinion. 
 'Bigotry may survive persecution, but it can never 
 
 > In a letter to tlio Lord Mavur and Shfriffs of Dublin, on June 1, 
 179-> he s;.id : « I lovctlie Jlomau Catholic ; I am ii friend to his liberty, 
 but it is only inasmuch as his liberty is entirely consistent ^vlth your 
 a'^cendenov. and an addition to the strength and freedom of the Tro- 
 trstant commnwiy: -Miscellaneous IVorks, p. 282. An Irish Protestant 
 in the lust century could perhaps hardly ^^Titc or think otherwise, and 
 it by no means follo^s-s that if ho l.Tcd now his opinion i^ould bo the 
 
 same. 
 
132 HENRY ghatta??. 
 
 survive toleration.' ' What Lutlicr did for iis, philo- 
 sophy has done in some degree for the Roman Catholics, 
 and their religion has undergone a silent reformation ; 
 and both divisions of Christianity^ unless they have 
 lost their understanding, must have lost their ani- 
 mosity, tliough they have retained their distinctions.' 
 ^It is the error of sects to value themselves more upon 
 their differences than upon their religion.' 
 
 Among the Eoman Catholics themselves, for a con- 
 siderable time, scarcely any political life had existed. 
 About the middle of the century, it is true, three 
 Catholic writers, named O'Connor, Wyse, and Curry, 
 made laudable efforts to arouse them ; but their spirits 
 were completely cowed by long oppression, and the 
 restrictions on education had prevented tlie develop- 
 ment of their intellect. At last, however, Father 
 O'Leary, a writer of real genius, rose among them. It 
 is impossible to read his works without regretting that an 
 eloquence of such extraordinary brilliancy was not ex- 
 erted more frequently, and on works of greater magni- 
 tude. His principal performances are a series of masterly 
 letters to "Wesley, who had written against the removal 
 of tlic penal laws ; an address to the Roman Catholics, 
 inculcating loyalty during the Rebellion of 1745 ; and 
 a short treatise on the Socinian controversy. In 
 England he is scarcely known except by his happy 
 retort to a Protestant bishop, to whose picture of the 
 horrors of purgatory he replied, ' Your lordship might 
 go fiirther and fare worse ; ' but his name is still 
 popular in Ireland, and his writings are well worthy of 
 perusal, if it were only for tlie great beauty of their 
 style. He was in his day beyond all comparison the 
 most brilliant ^Vl•iter in Ireland ; and had lie moved 
 in a wider sphere, and written on subjects of more 
 endunng value, he might have taken a place among 
 
HEUEF BILL OF 1793. 1"'^ 
 
 the great masters of Englisli prose. He was admitted 
 a member of a convivial society called the ' Monks of 
 the Screw,' which was presided over by Cm-ran, and 
 which included all tlie first men in the country. It is 
 a slight but significant fact, that when on one occasion 
 he went to the Volunteer Convention, the Volunteer 
 guard turned out and presented arms to this Catholic 
 priest. He attained a position in Ireland which no 
 member of his order had held for more than a century ; 
 Ills writings were widely read, and Grattan panegyrised 
 liim in Parliament. The concluding sentence of that 
 j.anegyric is curiously characteristic of the speaker, 
 of hi7 subject, and of the theological temperature of 
 their time. ' If I did not know him,' lie said, ' to be 
 a Christian clergyman, I sliould suppose him by his 
 writings to be a philosopher of the Augustan age.' 
 
 With this exception, the Catholics seem to havc^ 
 made scarcely any exertion to improve tlieir conditit.n 
 until 1792 and 1793, when they formed a convention, 
 under a leader named Keo-li, fur the purpose of ])re- 
 paring petitions to tlie King and to the Parliament. 
 
 Grattan conducted their cause with great tnct. lb- 
 refused to make it a party (piestion, and by this refusal 
 obtained tlie assistance of Sir Hercules Langrishe, wIk) 
 was one of the ablest of his political opponents, and 
 left it always opcm to the jNIinisters to adopt his view.-. 
 At last, in 1793, a Pelief Bill, admitting the Koman 
 Catholics to the elective franchise, was introduced by 
 the Government, and, after a warm debate, was earned. 
 In the course of the discussion Grattan made tlie tol- 
 lowing statement of the case: 'The situation of the 
 Roman Catholics is reducible to four propositions. 
 They are three-fourths of your people paying tlieir 
 proportion of near 2,000,000/. of taxes, without any 
 bhare in the representation or expenditure ; they pay 
 
134 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 your Church establishment without any retribution ; 
 they discharge the active and laborious offices of life, 
 manufacture, husbandry, and commerce, without tliose 
 franchises which are annexed to the fruits of industry ; 
 and they replenish your armies and navies without 
 commission, rank, or reward. Under these circum- 
 stances, and under the further recommendation of total 
 and entire political separation from any foreign prince 
 or pretender, they desire to be admitted to the franchise 
 of the constitution.' AVhile supporting the Grovern- 
 mcnt Act, Grattan complained greatly of its imper- 
 fection. The admission of the Roman Catholics tc 
 Parliament was its necessary complement, and by one 
 bold measure the Ministers might have set the ques- 
 tion at rest for ever. The measure of 1793 conferred 
 political power on the uneducated masses, while it re- 
 tained the disqualification of the educated few. Had 
 emancipation at this time been conceded, the great 
 Catholic landlords, being brought forward prominently 
 in tlie parliamentary arena, would have become the 
 natural leaders of their co-religionists, and the Irish 
 Catholic landlords have always been as K^yal, as mode- 
 rate, and as enliglitened as the Protestant ones. Put 
 the penal laws having reduced this class to the smallest 
 dimensions, and Tory obstinacy having deprived them 
 of the means of acquiring their legitimate political 
 influence, it is not surprising that the formation of 
 Catholic opinion should have ultimately devolved upon 
 agitators and priests. A Bill for completing the relief 
 was at this time actually brought forward, but was 
 defeated by Government influence. 
 
 The Relief Bill of "93 naturally suggests a considera- 
 tion of the question so often agitated in Ireland, 
 whether tlie Union was really a benefit to the Roman 
 Catholic cause. It has been argued that Catholic 
 
EFFECT OF THE UNION ON E^IANCIPATION. 135 
 
 emancipation was an impossibility as long as the Irish 
 Parliament lasted ; for in a country where the great 
 majority were Roman Catholics, it would be folly to 
 expect the members of the dominant creed to surrender 
 a monopoly on which their ascendency depended. The 
 argimients against this view are, I believe, overwhelm- 
 ing. The injustice of the disqualification was far more 
 strikinof before the Union than after it. In the on(^ 
 case the Roman Catholics were excluded from the 
 Parliament of a nation of which they were the great 
 majority ; in the other they were excluded from the 
 Parliament of an empire in which they were a small 
 minority. Grattan, Plunket, Curran, Burrowes, and 
 Ponsonby were the great supporters of Catholic eman- 
 cipation, and the great opponents of the Union. Clare 
 and Duigenan were the two great opponents of eman- 
 cipation, and the great supporters of the Union. ALa 
 time when scarcel y an y public opmipn existed in 
 Ireland, when the Roman Catholics were nearly 
 quiescent, and when the leaning of Government was 
 generally illiberal, the Irish J^testants atoitted 
 thek^-llow-subjects to the magist racy, to the ju ry- 
 box, and to th^ franc hise. By this last measure they 
 gave them an amount of political power wliich neces- 
 sarily implied complete emancipation. Even if no 
 leader of genius had risen in the Roman Catholic 
 ranks, and if no spirit of entliusiasm had animated 
 tlieir councils, the influence possessed by a body who 
 formed three-fourths of the population, who were 
 rapidly rising in wealth, and who could send their re- 
 presentatives to Parliament, would have been sufficient 
 to ensure their triumph.* If the Irish Legislature had 
 
 ' This was the opinion expressed by Fox in one of his letters soon 
 after the recall of Lcrd Fit-zwilliam : ' As to the Catliolic Bill, it is not 
 only right in principle, but, aftrr all that was given to the Catholics 
 
136 HENRT G RATTAN. 
 
 continued, it would have been found impossible to 
 resist tlie demand for reform ; and every reform, by 
 diminishing the overgrown power of a few Protestant 
 landholders, would have increased that of the Roman 
 Catholics. The concession accorded in 1793 was, in 
 fact, far greater and more important than that accorded 
 in 1829, and it placed the Roman Catholics, in a great 
 measure, above the mercy of Protestants. But this 
 was not all. The sympathies of the Protestants were 
 being rapidly enlisted in their behalf. The generation 
 to wliich Charlemont and Flood belonged had passed 
 away, and all the leading intellects of the country, 
 almost all the Opposition, and several conspicuous 
 members of the Government, were warmly in favour 
 of emancipation. The rancour which at present exists 
 between the members of the two creeds appears then 
 to Imve been almost unknown, and the real obstacle to 
 emancipation was not tlie feelings of the people,^ but 
 the policy of the Government. The Bar may be con- 
 sidered on most subjects a very fair exponent of the 
 educated opinion of the nation ; and AVolfe Tone ob- 
 served, in 1792, tliat it was almost unanimous in favour 
 of the Catholics ; and it is not without importance, as 
 showing the tendencies of the rising generation, that a 
 
 two years ng^o, it seems little short of madness (and at such a time as 
 tliis) to dispute about the Vlty little that reuiuins to be given thera. To 
 suppose it possible that now tliey are electors they Avill long submit to 
 be ineligible, appears to me to be absurd beyond measure ; but common 
 sense SL-cins to be totally lost out of the councils of tliis devoted countiT.' 
 — Lnrd IiKSSiiPs Life of Fox, vol. iii. p. 73. 
 
 • Tlie testimony of Lorvl Sheffield (who was adverse to the proposi- 
 tion of giving votes to the Catholics) to the feelings of the Irish Prot.s- 
 tants is very remarkable. He says, in a work published in 17So: 
 'Tlici riglit of being elected would surt-ly follow tlieir being eligible; 
 but, at all events, the power would be in tlie electors. It is curious to 
 observe one-fifth or perhaps one-sixth of a nation in possession of the 
 power and property of the country, eager to communicate that power to 
 tlie remaining four-fifths, which would in effect entirely transfer it frou) 
 t]\>\\\-r]\-Qs.''- ■ Ohsrrva,'io7is on the 'Ihuh <f Irdand, ]). 372. 
 
gotehnment orrosiiiON to emancipation. 137 
 
 large body of tlie students of DuLlin University in 
 1795 presented an address to Grattan, thanking liim 
 for his labours in the cause. The Eoman Catholics 
 were rapidly gaining the public opinion of Ireland, 
 when the Union arrayed against them another public 
 opinion -which was deeply prejudiced against their 
 faith, and almost entirely removed from their influence. 
 Compare the twenty years before the Union with the 
 twenty years that followed it, and the change is suffi- 
 ciently manifest. There can scarcely be a question 
 that if Lord Fitzwilliara had remained in office the 
 Irish Parliament would readily have given emancipa- 
 tion. In the United Parliament for many years it was 
 obstinately rejected, and if Q' Connell had neve r arisen 
 i t would pro bably never have be en granted unq ijalifiecl 
 by the veto. I n 1828, when the (piestion was brought 
 forward in Parliament, Gl out of 93 Irish members, 
 45 out of Gl Irish county members, voted in its favour. 
 Year after ye»ar Gr atta n and P lunke t br ought forw a_rd 
 the case of their fellow-countrymen wit h an eloo[iieuce 
 a nd a pe rsever ance worthy o f their j^rcat cause ; but 
 year after, year they w^cr e defeated. It was not till th e 
 greatjtribune had arisen, t ill he had moulded his c o- 
 rel igionists into "one compact and threateninij: mas s , 
 aiurjiad_J:)joughtthe^ Gentry j^^^^ _thejverge of iiimiii- 
 tioii^ that the tardy boon was conceded. Eloquence 
 and argument j^roved alike unavailing when unac- 
 companied by menace, and Catholic emancipation w^as 
 conTessedly granted because to withhold it would be to 
 produce a rebellion. 
 
 The refusal of the Government to complete tlie 
 enfranchisement of the lioman Catholics had a great 
 influence in stimulating disloyalty in the country, but 
 most especially among the Protestants. The convic- 
 tion that the removal of all religious disabilities was 
 essential to the welfare aud to the security of tho 
 
138 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 independence of Ireland, was rapidly gaining ground. 
 In 1782, as we have already seen, tlie representatives 
 of 143 corps of Volunteers passed a resolution, with but 
 two dissentient voices, expressing their approval of the 
 naitigation of the penal code. In 1792 a petition for 
 emancipation, signed by 600 Protestant householders 
 of Belfast, was presented to the Parliament. In 1791 
 the club of United Irishmen had been formed, to advo- 
 cate the Catholic claims. This club consisted originally 
 chiefly of Protestants, who were under no obligation to 
 secrecy, and who were merely pledged ' to promote a 
 union of friendship between Irishmen of every religious 
 persuasion, and to forward a full, fair, and adequate 
 representation of all tlie people in Parliament.' It 
 was presided over by Hamilton Rowan, a Protestant 
 gentleman of large fortune, and a most amiable and 
 chivalrous character ; and it was at first of a perfectly 
 loyal character. Grattan was not in any way con- 
 nected with it ; but, like all the Liberals of the time, 
 he was labouring for the attainment of its two great 
 objects — Catholic emancipation and Parliamentary 
 reform. The latter subject he brought forward, in 
 conjunction with Ponsonby, in 1793. He stated in his 
 speech tluit less than ninety, individuals returned a 
 majority of the Parliament ; but he was imable to pass 
 his Bill. There appears indeed to be Httle questio n 
 tliat during the later years of the Ministry of Pitt it 
 was the linn resolution of the Government not only to 
 resist the attempts to purify the Parliament, but also 
 steadily and deliberately to inci;x?ase its corruption. 
 Fitzgibbon, afterwards Lord Clare, was the chief agent 
 in attaining this end. His avowed political maxim 
 was that ' the only security for national concurrence 
 is a permanent and commanding influence of the 
 English Executive, or ratlicr English Cabinet, in the 
 councils of Ireland ; ' and for many years before the 
 
NEAV FOUMS OF CORRLTTION. 139 
 
 Union Uie GovernmeRt was continually multiplying 
 places, in order to increase that influence. Grattan 
 described the country as placed ' in a sort of interval 
 l)etween the cessation of a system of oppression and 
 the formation of a system of corruption;' and he 
 scarcely exaggerated the proceedings of the Irish rulers 
 when he described them as ' a set of men possessing 
 themselves of civil, military, and ecclesiastical autho- 
 rity, and using it with a fixed and malignant intention 
 to corrupt the morals, in order to undermine the 
 freedom, of the people.' Iu^l787 a PeacePreservation 
 Bill cancelled the whole magjstracy ; and, in addition 
 to^nan3^other appointments, gave a salaried and 
 judicial position to thirty-two barristers. In 1789 no 
 less than sixte en p_eers we rc_creat ed or p_r gmote d, and 
 the pe nsimillist was increased by ISjQpoL a year. 
 Ponsonby, at this time, declared that there wercJJO 
 pl acemen in the House of Commons, and that one- 
 eiohtF~of the re vcnue_ of the country was di\dded 
 b'Swecn_mcmbcrs of Parliament. Five more Treasury 
 places wcre_created in 1 793. The disfranchisement of 
 revenue officers had been carried in England with 
 general approval and with excellent effect ; but the 
 repeated efforts of Grattan to carry it in Ireland were 
 invariably defeated by the Government, and the utmost 
 that the patriots could procure was the permanent 
 reduction of the pension list to 80,000L a year, a Bill 
 by which those who accepted office were unable to sit 
 in Parliament without re-election, and a little more 
 direct Parliamentary control over the pension list.^ 
 
 Under these circumstances, it is not surprising that 
 the many elements of disloyalty and of turbulence 
 which smouldered in the coimtry should have acquired 
 
 » I have taken most of tlicse facts from G rattan's Life, by his sou, 
 yyV/Hh is probably the best history of Ireland at the period under con- 
 eideration. 
 
140 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 new strength. Wlioevcr desires to understand the 
 manner in which they were deveh^ped sliould study 
 the clear and evidently trutliful memoir on the rise 
 and aims of the United Irislimen, which was drawn up 
 by their three leaders, O'Connor, Eramett, and Mac- 
 nevin, when State prisoners.^ The society, they tell us, 
 was at first simply and frankly loyal, aiming solely at 
 Parliamentary reform and Catholic emancipation, and 
 valuing the latter cliicfly as a condition or an element 
 of the former. But, even in 1791, ' it was clearly per- 
 ceived tliat tlie chief support of the borough influence 
 in Ireland was tlie weii>:lit of Enoiish influence.' About 
 1795 the persistent and successful opposition of the 
 Government t^ reforai made the United Irishnien Jbr 
 the first time di sloyal. ' They began to be convinced 
 that it would bo as easy to obtain a revolution as a 
 reform, so obstinately was the latter resisted ; and, as 
 tliis conviction impressed itself on their minds, they 
 were inclined, not to give up the struggle, but to 
 extend their views. . . . Still,' they add, 'the whole 
 body, we are convinced, would have rejoiced to stop 
 sliort at reform.' They tried to avail themselves of 
 Frencli assistance, because ' they perceived that their 
 strength was not, and was not likely to become, equal 
 to wresting from the English and the borough interests 
 in Ireland even a reform.' They decided ultimately 
 upon making separation rather than reform their ideal, 
 because ' foreign assistance could only be hoped for in 
 proportion as the o])ject to which it would be applied 
 was important to tlie party giving it. A reform in the 
 Irish Parliament was no object to the French ; a sepa- 
 ration of Ireland from England was a mighty one 
 indeed.' 
 
 In addition to these considerations, we must re- 
 member that the moral influence of the French Revo- 
 
 ' ' Castk-i-i'Mgli Cu;Tfi;puiKlcnc'',' Vol. i. 
 
THE UNITED IRISHMEN. 141 
 
 lution liad begun to operate upon the country. It is 
 difficult for us, among whom the principles it enun- 
 ciated are now regarded as mere truisms, to realise 
 the transports of enthusiasm and the paroxysms of 
 terror with which that revolution was regarded by 
 friends and foes. The dramatic grandeur of its cir- 
 cumstances ; the expansive character it exhibited ; the 
 startling boldness of its doctrines and its aspirations ; 
 the eloquence, and heroism, and self-devotion, that 
 mingled with and half redeemed its horrors, had all 
 tended to awaken an almost delirious enthusiasm in 
 Europe. Even in England, though the long-established 
 free institutions and the strong aversion to everything 
 French might have been deemed a sufficient barrier, 
 the Government tliought it necessary to put in motion 
 all the long-disused engines of coercion to repress tlie 
 new opinions. But in Ireland, where the ground-swell 
 of agitation produced by the movement tliat had ter- 
 minated in 1782 had not yet subsided, where the 
 memory of the Volunteers was still fresh in every 
 mind, where tlie traditions of past oppression and the 
 spectacle of present abuses were alienating the people 
 from England, while an affinity of character and an 
 old del)t of gratitude were drawing them to France, it 
 is not surprising that tlie devolution should have 
 produced a deep and a lasting effect. As I have said, 
 its adliercnts in Ireland were at first chiefly Protes- 
 tants. What little republicanism existed in Jreland was 
 m ainly a mong the Presbyterians of Ulster. AVexford 
 was the only county where the rebellion was distinc- 
 tively Ro man Catlioljc, and even there Bagenal Harvey, 
 it^Jeader, wasji Protestant. G rattan and the Govern- 
 ment both perceived the coming storm. The latter, in 
 1793, brought forward a j^ill making those conven- 
 tions which had hitherto proved the most powerful 
 or^Jana of public opinion illegal. G rattan, Curran, 
 
142 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 and Ponsonby -warmly opposed the motion, but with- 
 out success ; and that Convention Act, which after- 
 wards proved one of the greatest obstacles in O'ConnelFs 
 course, became law\ Grattan, on the other hand, urged 
 the Government to grant those reforms by which alone 
 rebellion could be p.verted, and the people to abstain 
 from that violence which would imperil the existence 
 of their constitution. 
 
 Ponsonbv's Reform Bill was brouo^ht forward aijain, 
 though without success, in 1794, and Grattan took the 
 occasion to give a distinct outline of his policy. Kc 
 de^ed ' that Ireland should improve her constitution, 
 correct its abuses, and assimilate it as much as possible 
 to that of Great Britain ; that whenever Administra- 
 tions should attempt to act unconstitutionally, but, 
 above all, whenever they should tamper with the inde- 
 pendence of Parliament, they should be checked by all 
 means that the constitution justifies ; but that these 
 measures and this general plan should be pursued by 
 Ireland with a fixed, steady, and unalterable resolution 
 to stand or fall witli Great Britain. Whenever Great 
 Britain, therefore, should be clearly involved in war, 
 Ireland should grant her a decided and unequivocal 
 support, except that war should be carried on against 
 her own liberty.' 
 
 At last it seemed as though better councils had pre- 
 vailed. A large section of the Whigs, in consequence 
 of the French Ivevolution, had deserted Fox, and had 
 united themselves with Pitt, w^ho, in order to ingratiate 
 himself with his new allies, consented, after very con- 
 sideral)lc hesitation, to recall Lord Westmoreland, and 
 to send over Lord Fitzwilliam as Lord-Lieutenant. 
 Lord Fitzwilliam w'as one of the most imjiortant per- 
 sonages in the Whig party, an intimate friend of 
 Grattan, and a warm and avowed supporter of Catholic 
 
LORD FITZWILLIAM. 143 
 
 cnianciimtion. Sucli an appoinlmcnt at such a moment 
 could only be construed in Ireland in one way. 
 Catholic emancipation was the pressing question of the 
 hour. Pitt had early expressed himself in its favour. 
 At a time when it was known to be in agitation he re- 
 called a Viceroy who was opposed to it, and sent over 
 one who was known to be its ardent friend. Lord 
 Fitzwilliam was directed, indeed, not to bring it for- 
 ward ; but he had no instructions to oppose it, and was 
 left, as he afterwards declared, a full discretion to 
 deal with the question, if brought forward, as might 
 seem to him advisable, l^tt hnnself asked an inter- j 
 view w i th G r attan , and staled to him the intended 
 policy of the Government in a remarkable sentence, 
 which was afterwards published by Grattan's son, on 
 the autliority of his father, and which there is no 
 reason whatever for thinking inaccurately reported. 
 Their intention was ^ not to bri£g forward emanci- 
 tion as a Government, ])ut if Go vernment were pressed, 
 to yield to it.' 
 
 Under these circumstances it appeared obvious that, 
 if the dispositions of the Irish people and Parliament 
 were favourable to emancipation, there was no obstacle 
 to encounter. Lord Fitzwilliam landed in Ireland in 
 December 1794, and was at once received with a most 
 significant enthusiasm of loyalty. Petitions in unpre- 
 cedented numbers poured in from the Catholics, asking 
 for emancipation ; and the great majority of tlie Pro- 
 testants were unquestionably strongly in favour of it. 
 Lord Fitzwilliam was afterwards able to represent to 
 the King ' the universal approbation with which the 
 emancipation of the Catholics was received on the part 
 of his Protestant subjects ;' * and in his letter to Lord 
 Carlisle, after his recall, he described the state of 
 
 ' See his letter to Grattan in Grattau's Life, by his son. 
 
144 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 feeling in IreLmd in terms wbicli need no comment. 
 It was a time, lie wrote, ' when the jealousy and 
 alarm which certainly at the first period pervaded the 
 minds of the Protestant body exist no longer — when 
 not one Protestant corporation, scarcely an individual, 
 has come forward to deprecate and oppose the indul- 
 gence claimed by the higher order of Catholics — when 
 even some of those who were most alarmed in 1793, 
 and were then the most violent opposers, declare the 
 indulgences now asked to be only the necessary conse- 
 quences of those granted at that time, and positively 
 essential to secure the well-being of the two countries.'' 
 Lord Fitzwilliam, in answering the addresses that were 
 presented to him, used language which clearly inti- 
 mated his sympathy with their cause ; and such lan- 
 guage, coming at such a time from the representative 
 of the Sovereign, very naturally removed all doubts 
 from the minds of tlie Catholics. In Parliament the 
 almost universal feeling of the country was fully re- 
 flected. As on the occasion of Irish emancipation in 
 1782, extraordinary supplies were voted in testimony 
 of the loyalty of the nation. Grattan, though without 
 an official position, became virtually the leader of the 
 Government ; and the French party appeared to have 
 almost disappeared. Grattan obtained leave to bring 
 in an Emancipation Bill, with but three dissentient 
 voices ; and that Bill had been drawn up by him in 
 concert with Lord Fitzwilliam and the Cabinet. It 
 was understood that a Reform Bill would follow ; and 
 one of the most important leaders of the LTnited Irish- 
 men afterwards said that in that case their quarrel 
 with Enoland would have been at an en :\ The wdiolo 
 Catholic population were strung to the highest pitch 
 of excitement. The Protestants were, for the most 
 part, enthusiastically loyal ; and the revolutionary 
 
nECALL OF LORD FITZWILLIAM. 115 
 
 Spirit had almost subsided, "when Pitt suddenly and 
 peremptorily recalled Lord Fitzwilliara, and made the 
 rebellion which followed inevitable. 
 
 The precise motives of tli is recall, which plung^ed 
 Ireland into the agonies of civil war and threw back 
 the Catholic ([ucstion for thirty-four years, have been 
 a matter of much controversy. Lord Fitzwilliam, in 
 going to Ireland, thought it necessary to exercise his 
 authority as chief governor by dismissing certain offi- 
 cials who were directly opposed to the policy he in- 
 tended to pursue ; and among these were two men of 
 great influence : Cooke, the Secretary of War — who, a 
 few years later, was put forward as the first advocate of 
 tlie Union — and Beresford, a Commissioner of Revenue, 
 who was at the licad of one of the most powerful and 
 most grasping families in Ireland. These measures 
 were mitigated as much as possible ; for Cooke was 
 compensated by a pension of 1,200^. a year, and 
 Beresford retained the whole of his official revenue ; 
 but J^ercsford, notwithstanding, went immediately to 
 London ; and lie was supported in his complaints by 
 tlic Chancellor, Lord Fitzgibbon, who was the favourite 
 ]Minister of Pitt, and at tlie same time the bitterest 
 enomy of the Catholics. To this influence the recall 
 of Lord Fitzwilliam was ascribed, but though a reason, 
 it was probably not the only one. It is scarcely pro- 
 Ijable tliat the dismissal of a subordinate Minister was 
 the sole cause of a measure which plainly threatened 
 the gravest and most disastrous consequences to the 
 empire. The truth seems to be that Pitt was extremely 
 jealous of his Whig colleagues, and afraid of their ob- 
 taining a predominant influence in the Cabinet. The 
 King had declared his strong opposition to emancipa- 
 tion. Tlie Minister woidd have found sovf^^.'^^^ — ' 
 with his Tory friends ; and, n i ' ' 
 8 
 
146 HENRY G I? ATT AN. 
 
 wliicli he then was it i? almost certain that he could 
 liave carried the measure, he would have weakened 
 and divided his party, and given the Whig element 
 in his councils a considerable ascendency. He only 
 sent over Lord Fitzwilliam with reluctance, and he 
 probably hesitated and vacillated about the extent 
 to wliich he was prepared to go. Personally he pro- 
 f< ssed extremely liberal views about the Catholics, and 
 he must have been quite aware of the danger of refusing 
 their demands ; but a careful examination will show that 
 at every period of his career he sacrificed or subordinated 
 political principles to party ends. But, besides these 
 reasons, it is probable that he was already looking for- 
 ward to the Union. The steady object of his later 
 Irish policy was to corrupt and to degrade, in order 
 that he ultimately might destroy, the Legislature of 
 the country. Had Parliament been made a mirror ot* 
 the national will — had the Catholics been brought 
 within tlie pale of the constitution — his policy would 
 have been defeated. Thus it was that a Minister who 
 professed himself a warm friend of Catholic emancipa- 
 tion did more than any other English statesman to 
 adjourn the solution of the question ; that a Minister 
 w'ho began his career as the eloquent champion of 
 Parliamentary reform resisted steadily every attempt 
 to reform the most corrupt borough system in Europe ; 
 that a Minister whose political purity has been the 
 theme of so many eulogists, was guilty in Ireland of a 
 corruption before which the worst acts of Newcastle 
 and Walpole dwindle into insignificance. The pro- 
 minent part which Fitzgibbon and Cooke took in this 
 transaction strengthens the probability that the con- 
 templated Union had some influence over the decision 
 of Pitt ; and it is at least certain that the recall of 
 T ^ ""fitzwilliam arrested a policy which would have 
 
RECALL OF LORD FITZWILLIAM. 147 
 
 made it at that time impossible. By raising the hopes 
 of the Catholics almost to certainty, and then dashing 
 them to the ground ; by taking tliis step at the very 
 moment when the inflammatory spirit engendered by 
 the Eevolution had begun to spread among the people , 
 Pitt sowed in Ireland tlie seeds of discord and blood- 
 shed, of religious animosities, and social disorgani- 
 sation, which paralysed the energies of the country 
 and rendered possible the success of his machinations. 
 The rebellion of 1798, with all the accumulated mi- 
 series it entailed, was the direct and predicted conse- 
 quence of his policy. Lord Fitzwilliam had solemnly 
 warned the Government that to disappoint tlie hopes of 
 the Catholics ' would be to raise a flame in the country 
 that nothing but the force of arms could keep down.' 
 liord Charlemont, tliougli on principle opposed to the 
 Catholic claims, declared that the recall of Lord Fitz- 
 william would be ruinous to Ireland, and foretold that 
 by the following Christmas the people might be in the 
 1 lands of the United Irishmen. The feelings of the 
 nation were manifested with an intensity that had not 
 been displayed since 1782. The shops of Dublin were 
 closed ; votes of confidence in the disgraced Lord- 
 Lieutenant were passed unanimously by both Houses 
 of Parliament, by most of the corporations in tlie 
 kingdom, and by innumerable county meetings. His 
 carriage was dra^vn to the water's edge by an enthu- 
 siastic crowd, while a violent riot marked the public 
 entry of his successor. The belief in the possibility of 
 obtaining reform by constitutional means speedily 
 waned. A sullen, menacing disloyalty overspread the 
 land, 'creeping,' in the words of Grattan, 'like the 
 mist at the heels of the countryman.' 
 
 It was natural, and indeed inevitable, that it should 
 be so. A large amount of discontent and agitation 
 
148 IIENKY GRATTAN. 
 
 had previously existed, and it would bave been veiy 
 straDge bad it been otherwise. The past history of 
 the country was not of a nature to make a contented 
 people. The great armed movement of the A^olunteers 
 was stili vivid in the memories of men, and the exclu- 
 sion of three-fourths of the nation from the higlicst 
 privileges of the constitution, the profoundly corrupt 
 condition of Parliament, and the systematic misappli- 
 cation of official patronage, were most legitimate causes 
 of discontent. Still the disloyalty was probably less 
 than at the present moment, and it might most easily 
 have been allayed. Had the Government thought 
 fit to adopt the policy of Grattan — had they deter- 
 mined ' to combat the wild spirit of democratic liberty 
 by tlie regulated spirit of organised liberty, sucli as 
 may be found in a limited monarchy with a free Par- 
 liament,' there can be little doubt tliat tliey would 
 liave succeeded. The landlords, the Parliament, the 
 overwhelming majority of the Episcopalian Protestants, 
 tlie Constitutional Liberals who followed Grattan and 
 Cliarlemont, were intensely loyal. The priests in Ire- 
 land, as clsewliere, looked with horror upon the Re- 
 volution, and upon the doctrines tliat inspired it. The 
 mass of the Catholics were, no doubt, considerably and 
 most naturally discontented, but their leaning was 
 strongly towards authority, and the contagion of the 
 disloyal spirit that was agitating the Presbyterians of 
 the north did not seriously affect them till tlie recall 
 of Lord Fitzwilliam. On this point we have the 
 evidence of the most competent of witnesses : the three 
 leaders of the L^nited Irishmen, whose memoir I have 
 before cited. ' Wliatever progress this united system 
 had made among the Presbyterians of the north,' they 
 say, ' it had, as we apprehend, made but little way 
 amongst Catholics tliroughout the kingdom, until after 
 
RECALL OF LORD FITZTWILLIAM. 149 
 
 the recall of Lord Fitz^villiara.' The conduct of the 
 people in 1782, and their conduct on the arrival of 
 Lord Fitzwilliam, attested sufficiently how easily all 
 classes might have been rallied round the throne, and 
 though some agitators would always have remained, they 
 would have been reduced to impotence, if not to silence, 
 by Catholic emancipation and a moderate measure of 
 Parliamentary reform. Considering the past history 
 of the country, and the inflammatory elements that 
 were abroad in Europe, Ireland in 1795 was singularly 
 easy to govern, had it been governed honestly and by 
 honest men. But it was not in human nature that 
 the loyalty of the Catholics should survive the ad- 
 ministration of Lord Fitzwilliam. Their hopes had 
 been raised to the highest point; the language and 
 demeanour of the representative of the Sovereign had 
 Ijeen equivalent to a pledge that they would be relieved 
 of their disqualifications ; they could point with pride 
 to their perfect loyalty for the space of a hundred years, 
 in spite of the penal laws, of the rebellions of 1715 and 
 of 1745, and of the revolt of the colonies; they had 
 won to their cause the immense majority of their Pro- 
 testant fellow-countrymen, and had advanced to the 
 very threshold of the constitution, when the English 
 ^Minister interposed to blight their prospects, and exerted 
 all the influence of the Government against them. 
 
 It has been suggested, by a distinguished modern 
 apologist for Pitt, that it would perhaps have l)een 
 impossible to carry the measure through the Irish 
 Parliament ; or that, at least, it could only have been 
 carried after a prolonged and violent conflict, that 
 would have shaken the nation to the centre. The fact 
 that the House almost unanimously gave permission 
 for the Bill to be brought in does not, it is truly said, 
 necessarily imply that it would have passed it in its 
 
150 IIENKT GEATTAN. 
 
 more advanced stages ; and when, soon after, the 
 Government opposed the Bill, it was rejected by a 
 large majority. The answer to this theory is very 
 short. No Irish writer or speaker of the time ques- 
 tioned, as far as I am aware, the power of the Govern- 
 ment to carry the Bill. The weight which the Ad- 
 ministration possessed through the borough influence 
 in the Irish Parliament was almost absolute. In a 
 few cases a strong popular feeling was able to defeat 
 it, but in no case had the Government any serious 
 difficulty when the popular sentiment was on their 
 side. That the general feeling of the people was in 
 favour of emancipation is perfectly unquestionable. 
 Tliat the Parliament would readily have yielded to 
 that feeling is decisively proved by its conduct in 
 1793. The Bill carried in that year, which conferred 
 the elective franchise on the Catholics, was, as I have 
 said, far more important than a Bill for allowing 
 them to sit in Parliament, for it transferred a far 
 larger amount of real political power, and rendered 
 the Parliamentary disqualification utterly untenable. 
 The Bill of 1793 was carried without difficulty through 
 Parliament, and there is not a shadow of a reason for 
 believing that it would have been more difficult to 
 carry the Emancipation Bill of 1795. In the emphatic 
 words of Lord Fitzwilliam, the disqualifications that 
 were retained in the Act of 1793 'gave satisfaction to 
 none, and caused discontent to many. The Protestants 
 reo-arded these exceptions with total indifference. The 
 Catholics looked on them as signs of suspicion and 
 degradation.' ^ There may, perhaps, he some difficulty 
 in deciding on whose head the blame of the failure of 
 Lord Fitzwilliam's viceroyalty should rest ; but it is 
 at least very clear that the real obstacle to Catholic 
 
 ' Pi-u^'sf ill Vac Uuv.^q of Lci-ils. 
 
RETIRES FROM TARLIAMEM. 151 
 
 emancipation was not in Ireland, but in England , 
 Few facts in Irish history are^ more certain than that 
 the Iris h Parlia ment would have carried emancipat ion 
 if Lord Fitzwilliam ha J remained in power, and tiat 
 the^recall ofjthat noblernan w\as one of the chief causes 
 of the rebellion of 1798. Lord Fitzwilliam, on his 
 return, demanded in the House of Lords explanations 
 of the motive of his recall, and was supported by the 
 Duke of Norfolk, but his demand was refused. He 
 entered a protest against this refusal, in which he 
 stated that he found Catholic emancipation to be 
 ' ardently desired by the Koman Catholics, to be asked 
 for by very many Protestants, and to be cheerfully 
 acquiesced in by nearly all.' 
 
 After this event the days of the Irish Parliament 
 were but few and evil. Three or four times Grattan 
 brought forward the Catholic and the lieform ques- 
 tions, but the Grovernment continually refused to yield, 
 and the revolutionary tide surged higher and higher. 
 At last, on the eve of the rebellion, he gave up 
 his seat in Parliament, and retired into privat-e life. 
 He had found it wholly impossible to cope with the 
 Government during that period of panic. He could 
 not sympathise with the party who were appealing to 
 arms, nor yet w^ith those who had driven them to dis- 
 loyalty. He was guided, too, in a great measure, by 
 the example of Fox, who, when he found his party 
 hopelessly reduced, had retired from the debates ; but, 
 vmlike Fox, he resigned his seat when he abstained 
 from parliamentary business. 
 
 If it were not for the wretched condition of the 
 country, it would have cost him comparatively little to 
 retire from active life ; for he possessed all the re- 
 sources of happiness that are furnished by a highly cul- 
 tivated intellect, by tlic most amiable of dispositions, 
 
152 HEXRY GR ATTAIN. 
 
 and the attachment of innumerable friends. All 
 accounts concur in representing }iim in private life 
 as the simplest and most winning of mortals. The 
 transparent purity of his life and character, a most 
 fascinating mixture of vehemence and benevolence, a 
 certain guilelessness of appearance, and a certain un- 
 conscious oddity, both of diction and gesture, gave a 
 peculiar charm and pungency to his conversation. 
 Like his speeches, it was tesselated with epigram and 
 antithesis, full of strokes of a delicate, original, and 
 laconic humour, of curiously minute and vivid delinea- 
 tions of character, of striking anecdotes, admirably 
 though quaintly told. He liad seen and observed 
 much, and he possessed a rare insight into character 
 and a great originality botli of thought and of expres- 
 sion. He delighted in music and poetry, and his love 
 of nature amaimted to a passion, and continued un- 
 abated during every portion of his life. In one of the 
 letters of Horner tliere is a charming description of 
 the enthusiasm with which, when an old miui, he left 
 London to visit a county which was famous for its 
 nightingales, in order that he might enjoy the luxury 
 of their song. There was about him so much gTcatness 
 and so much goodness, that lie rarely failed to vfin the 
 love and the veneration of tliose who came in contact 
 with him, but also so mucli oddity that he usually 
 provoked a smile. With much mild dignity of manner 
 and great energy of intellect, he combined an almost 
 childish simplicity and freslmess of character. No 
 schoolboy enjoyed with a keener zest a day's holiday in 
 the country ; and Curran, who delighted in mimicking 
 his singularities, described him conducting a controversy 
 about the respective merits of two pumps, with an 
 intensity of earnestness and a measured gravity worthy 
 of a great political contest. It is a tine saying of 
 
CURHAN. 153 
 
 Coleridge tliat in men of genius tlie matured judgment 
 of the man is c(imbined witli the delicacy of feeling 
 and the susceptibility of impressions of tlie child, and 
 it needs but little acquaintance with literary biogi-aphy 
 to perceive that these last elements almost invariably 
 enter into the composition of really great men. It 
 is scarcely less true of the temple of genius than of 
 tlie temple of Christianity, tliat he who wo\ild enter 
 in must become as a little child. 
 
 It does not fall within the province of the present 
 work to paint the rebellion of 1798. Public opinion 
 liad but little scope during a period of military law 
 and of mob violence, and the historians of the two 
 countries may well let the curtain fall over a scene 
 tliat was equally disgraceful to both. The_rnan who 
 a t that time occupied the first position i n the publi c 
 mind was, beyond all questjon, Curran . Seldom has 
 Ireland produced a patriot of riioi-e brilliant and 
 varied talents ; and although there were grave defects 
 in his private character, his public life was singu- 
 larly luiblemished, and there are few of his con- 
 temporaries who inspire a feeling so much akin to 
 alfcetiun. Rising from a position of the deepest 
 humility, he early attracted public attention as a poet 
 of no mean promise — a wit of almost the highest 
 order — and an orator who might compare with the 
 greatest of his countrymen. If his speeches, like 
 those of most lawyers, are somewhat lax and inaccu- 
 rate in their style ; if they do not exhibit great depth 
 of thought or great force c»f reasoning, they are charac- 
 terised at least by a musical flow that delights even in 
 an imperfect and uncorrected report, and by a pov/er 
 of pathos, of imagination, and of humour that was 
 equalled by none of his contemporaries. A member 
 of a profession where all ])romotion depended on the 
 
154 TIENKY GIIATTAN. 
 
 Grovernmeut, and was then <;ivcn from political mo- 
 tives, he was never guilty of abandoning a principle or 
 swerving from a public duty. He exhibited the most 
 chivalrous courage in one of the worst periods of 
 judicial intimidation, and the most perfect disin- 
 terestedness in one of the worst periods of judicial 
 corruption. At the very beginning of his career he 
 signalised himself by volunteering to defend an old 
 priest who had been maltreated by a Protestant noble- 
 man, and whose cause no other member of the Bar -was 
 willing to adopt. Lord Clare drove him from the 
 Court of Chancery by continual evidences of dislike. 
 Lord Carleton hinted to him that he might lose his 
 silk gown for his defence of the United Irishman 
 Neilson. During one of his speeches he was interrupted 
 by the clash of the arms of an angry soldiery, and 
 more than once he had to dread those political duels 
 by which dullness so often revenged itself upon genius. 
 In his famous speech for Hamilton Eowan he could 
 adopt almost without alteration the exordium of Cicero's 
 defence of Milo, but, unlike Cicero, the attempts at 
 intimidation that he described only served to stimulate 
 his eloquence. And yet this man, before whose sarcasm 
 and invective corrupt judges and perjured witnesses so 
 often trembled ; this man, on whose burning eloquence 
 crowded and sometimes hostile courts hung breathless 
 with admiration till the shadows of evening had long- 
 closed in, vfiis in private life the most affable, the 
 most gentle, the most unassuming of friends. The 
 briefless barrister, the young man making his first 
 essays of ambition, the bashful, the needy, and the 
 disappointed, ever found in him the easiest of com- 
 panions, and acknowledged with delight that his social 
 qualities were as fascinating as his eloquence. 
 
 Like his great contemporary Erskine, he never ob- 
 
CURFvAN. 155 
 
 tained in Parliament a position corresponding to that 
 which he held at the Bar ; but his Parliamentary career, 
 if not very brilliant, was at least eminently consistent 
 and disinterested. He made his maiden speech in 
 favour of Flood's Eeform Bill, and he took part in 
 almost every subsequent effort to purify the Parlia- 
 ment, to emancipate the Catholics, to reduce the pen- 
 sions, to ameliorate the criminal code, and to prevent 
 the introduction of military law. He laboured with 
 especial earnestness, though without success, to assimi- 
 late the law of treason in Ireland to that of England, 
 by whicli two witnesses were necessary for a capital 
 conviction ; and if he had succeeded he would have 
 prevented some of the most scandaloiLs scenes that dis- 
 graced tlie subsequent prosecutions. In all the great 
 trials of '98 he was the counsel for the prisoners, and 
 his eloquence proved fully equal to the occasion. His 
 iinest effort is his defence of Hamilton Kowan, which 
 lias been styled by the first of our oratorical critics * 
 the most eloquent s|x?ech ever delivered at the Bar, but 
 which is said to owe a great deal of its pre-eminence 
 to tlie fact tliat it was better reported than his other 
 speeches. It was on tliat occasion tliat he broke into 
 his eloquent and well-known justification of the prin- 
 ciple of ' universal emancij^ation,' wliich had been 
 asserted by the United Irishmen, and denounced by 
 the Crown officers as treasonable. ' I speak in the 
 spirit of the British law, which makes liberty commen- 
 surate with and inseparable from the British soil ; 
 which proclaims even to the stranger and the sojourner, 
 tlie moment he sets Ids foot on Britisli earth, that the 
 ground on wliich he treads is holy and consecrated by 
 the genius of universal emancipation. No matter in I 
 wliat language his doom may have been pronounced — 
 
 ' Lord Eroiifrliani, in his defence of Runt. 
 
156 HENET GIIATTA5. 
 
 no matter what complexion, incompatible with frcodon?, 
 an African or an Indian smi may have burnt upon him 
 — no matter in what disastrous battle liis liberty may 
 have been cloven down — no matter with what solemni- 
 ties he may have been devoted upon the altar of slavery 
 — the hrst moment he touches the sacred soil of Bri- 
 tain the altar and the god sink together in the dust ; 
 his soul walks abroad in its own majesty ; liis body 
 swells beyond the measure of his chains that burst 
 from around him, and lie stands redeemed, regenerated, 
 and disenthralled by the irresistible genius of \miversal 
 emancipation.' 
 
 The rebellion of '98 was at. last suppresseclj a nd tlto 
 Ministers determined to avail themselves of the_oppaa:r 
 tunity to annihilate the Irish Parliament . The notion 
 of a Union had been more than once propounded in 
 both countries. Cromwell had summoned Irish mem- 
 bers to the Parliament in AVestminster. jMany eminent 
 writers had advocated a Union — amon^: others. Sir W. 
 Petty, Dean Tucker, and Adam >Smith ; and about the 
 time of the Union with Scotland strong efforts were made 
 by Irish politicians to effect it. In 1703 there was a 
 certain movement in this sense; and in 1709 the Irisli 
 House of Lords — though apjmrently without the con- 
 currence of the House of Commons — petitioned Lord 
 AVharton, the Lord-Lieutenant, to use his good offices to 
 procure for Ireland a Union like that between England 
 and Scotland.* The reply of the Lord-Lieutenant, how- 
 ever, was exceedingly discouraging ; and from this time 
 the question seems to have slej^t till 1759, when a report 
 w^as current that such a measure was contcmj^lated ; 
 and so unpopular was the project, that the Dublin mob 
 seized a number of tlie members, and made them swear 
 that they would vote against it. In 178G we hnd 
 
 ' See Lord Mount morrcs' ' Historical Dissertation on tl:c Irish P;ir- 
 liament,' p. 47- 
 
rnEPARATIONS FOR THE UNION. 157 
 
 Cbarlemoiit writing to Flood : ' Tlic English pupcra 
 have latL4y been infested witli the idea of a Union, but 
 except from them I know nothing of it ; neither can I 
 suppose it possible that such a notion can have entered 
 into the heads of our present Administration. When 
 we had no constitution the idea was scarcely admis- 
 sible ; what, then, must it be now?' AVilberforce, on 
 one occasion, observed tliat it w^ould be a good mea- 
 sure, but impractica ble, for the people would never 
 consent. Dr. Johnson said to an Irish gentleman, ' Do 
 not unite wi th us ; we would unite with you only to rob 
 vou. ' The Lord-Lieutenant was Lord Cornwallis, in 
 whose published correspondence we can trace very 
 clearly the progress of the design ; but the principal 
 agent of the Government in corrupting the Legislature 
 was the Chief Secretary, Lord Castlcreagh. In the 
 Xos'cmber of 1798 we lind the following curious notice 
 of this appointment in one of Lord Cornwallis's letters 
 to the Duke of Portland : ' Lord Castlereagh's appoint- 
 ment gave me great satisfaction; and although I admit 
 the propriety of the general rule, yet, as lie is so very 
 unlike an Irishman, I think he has a great claim to an 
 exception in his favour.' In the same montli we fmd 
 Lord Cabtlereagh writing to Mr. AVickham : ' Tlie 
 principal provincial newspapers have been secured, and 
 every attention will be paid to (lie press generally.' 
 The public were prepared by a pamphlet in favour of 
 a Union written by the Secretary Cooke, which elicited 
 a multitude of ansvvers, tlie ablest being those of Bushe 
 and Jebb. Paniell and Fitzgerald, who refused to 
 acquiesce in the designs of the Government, were dis- 
 missed from office; and in 1799, after what v;as con- 
 sidered a s\ifficicnt distribution of bribes and promises,^ 
 the measure was introduced. 
 
 ' Tlie following notice in the Cornwallis Letters concerning Arch- 
 bishop Agar is amusingly cliarartci-istic. It is in a letter from Lord 
 
158 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 The period was in many respects very favourable to 
 the attempt. In the House of Lords tliere was no 
 serious opposition to be apprehended. Peerages in Ire- 
 hmd had long been granted almost exclusively witli a 
 view to ensire ministerial influence, and Pitt had sur- 
 passed all his predecessors in the lavish audacity of liis 
 creations. The bishops, who were absurdly numerous 
 in proportion to their flocks, were, with two exceptions, 
 docile and obsequious ; and by ennobling most borough- 
 owners who consented to send servile members to the 
 House of Commons, the Minister was able, wuth an 
 economy of corruption, to degrade two Houses. On all 
 ordinary questions he could secure a majority in the 
 
 Cornwallis to the Duke of Portlaiitl, in July 1707: 'It "was privately 
 iiiiimatt'd to me that the sentiments of the Archbishop of Ca.shel Avero 
 less unfriendly to tho Union than they had been, on Avhich I took an 
 opportunity of conversing with his Grace on the subject, and, after dis- 
 cussing some preliminary topics respecting the representation of the 
 i'<[>iritual Lords, and the probable vacanct/ of the sec of Dublin, ho 
 ^Icclared h's great unwillingness at all times to op])Osc tho measures of 
 tho Government, and especially on a point in which his Majesty's feel- 
 ings were so much interested, to whom he professed the highest sense 
 of gratitude, and concluded by a cordial declaration of friendship.' Dr. 
 Agar was made a viscount in 1800, Archbishop of Dublin in 1801, and 
 l-'arl of Normanton a few years later. lie tried very hanl to obtain the 
 Primacy of Ireland, but the Government refused to relax their rule that 
 no Irishman should hold that place. However, Lord Cornwallis writes: 
 * His Grace had my promise when we came to an agreement respecting 
 the Union that ho should have a seat in the llouse of Lords for lifo' 
 ('Cornwallis Correspondence,' iii. pp. 160-209). Archbishop Agar was 
 also remarkable fur the zeal with which he advocated sanguinary mea- 
 sures of repression during the rebellion of 1708 (Grattan's Life, a-oI. iv. 
 p. 390); for the large fortune whieh he made by letting the Cliurch lands 
 on terms beneficial to his own famil}^ (' Cas'lereagli Correspondence,' 
 vol. ii. p. 71) ; and for having allowed the fine old chui-ch at Cashel to full 
 into ruins, and l)uilt in its place a cathedral in the worst modern taste, 
 which he ordered to be represented on his tomb (Stanley's ' AVestminster 
 Abbey,' p. 3l»4). There is an extremely eulogistic inscription to hia 
 nicmory in "Westminster Abbey, and a fine bas-relief representing the 
 angels bearing tlie mitre to the saintly prelate. 
 
ARGUMENTS FOR A UNION. 159 
 
 Lower House, and he had been for many years increas- 
 ing the number of placemen. In quiet times a storm 
 of popular indignation would have made a Uoion im- 
 possible, but at the time when the measure was brought 
 forward the country was prostrate and paralysed after 
 the great rebellion. Resistance was impossible, and 
 there was much to predispose men to a Union. The 
 civil war which the policy of Pitt had produced den-c- 
 ncrated in Wexford, and in part of the south, into a 
 merciless struggle of races and creeds, disgraced on 
 both sides by t])e most atrocious cruelties. The Pro- 
 testants passed into that condition of terrified ferocity 
 to which ruling races are always liable when they find 
 themselves a small minority in the midst of a fierce 
 rebellion. / ' Tlie minds of the people,' wrote Lord 
 Cornwallis, after the suppression of tlie revolt, 'are 
 now in such a state that nothing but blood will satisfy 
 them.' ' Even at my table, where you will suppose I 
 do all I can to prevent it, the conversation always 
 turns on hanging, shooting, burning, and so forth ; and 
 if a priest has been put to death the greatest joy is 
 expressed by the whole comj)any.' The Catholics were 
 ef[ually sanguinary. A prominent rebel, who was exe- 
 cuted on Vinegar Hill, and whose confession is pre- 
 served in the ' Castlereagh Correspondence,' gives a 
 graphic account of tlieir proceedings : * Every man that 
 was a Protestant was called an Orangeman ; and every 
 one was to be killed, from the poorest man in the 
 country. Before the rebellion I never heard there was 
 any hatred between Catholics and Protestants; they 
 always lived peaceably together. I always found the 
 l*rotestants better masters and more indulgent land- 
 lords than my own religion. During the rebellion 
 I never saw any one interfere to prevent murder but 
 one liyrne, who saved a man.' 
 
IGO HENRY GHATTAN. 
 
 Under these circumstances it would not have been 
 surprising if the Protestants, terrified at the fierce ele- 
 ments that were surging around them, should have 
 welcomed any political combination that, by identify- 
 ing them more completely with a powerful Protestant 
 nation, miglit increase their strength ; or if the Catho- 
 lics should have accepted with equal delight a measure 
 that withdrew them from the immediate tyranny of 
 their enraged fellow-countrymen. But beside these 
 considerations, political inducements of a more special 
 kind were persistently and adroitly employed. One of 
 the strongest wishes of the Irish Catholics was natu- 
 rally to be freed from tlieir political disqualifications. 
 One of the most serious objections in the eyes of the 
 Irish Protestants to Catholic emancipation was that it 
 might prove fatal to the permanence and security of 
 the Established Church in Ireland. The Ministers and 
 the ministerial writers argued that a Union would lead 
 to the immediate consummation of the vrislies of tlie 
 Catholics, and tliat it Avould at tlie same time place 
 tlie Establishment beyond all possibility of danger. 
 Catliolic emancipation, as we have alread}^ seen, had 
 l)cen looked upon very favourably by the Irish Protes- 
 tants ; but Pitt having suffered Lord Fitzwilliam to 
 amuse the Irisli people by tlie prospect, had blighted 
 tlieir hopes by recalling him, and thus produced the 
 rebellion. Irish opinion had greatly deteriorated under 
 the influence of the events that followed, and sectarian 
 animosity was much stronger in 1799 than in 1795; 
 but still the passing of the measure depended upon 
 the attitude of the Government. With their assistance 
 it was Qixsy. In the face of their opposition, and with 
 an unreformed Parliament, it was impossible. Being 
 thus the practical arbiters of the question, they deter- 
 mined to employ it as a means of compelling the 
 
NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE CATHOLICS. 161 
 
 Catholics to support tlie Union. Pitt himself—whose 
 political speculations were almost always large and 
 liberal— wished to give Catholic emancipation with the 
 Union, and would certainly liave done so if he could 
 have accomplislied the object without in any degree 
 diminishing or endangering his political ascendency. 
 His great aim, however, was not to emancipate the 
 Catholics, but to make them believe that lie was going 
 to do so, and thus to bribe them to support the 
 Union. The enterprise was a difficult one, for Lord 
 Clare and some of the other chief advocates of the 
 Union were very hostile to the Catholics ; and the 
 Minister desired to enlist in his support all the anti- 
 Catholic elements in the country. The plan, therefore, 
 of coupling the Union with favours to the Catholics 
 Avas abando'lied ; although Pitt wrote to Lord Cornwallis 
 in November 1798, that i\Ir. Elliot— who was one of 
 his cliief authorities on Irish matters— thought that a 
 Union, accompanied by Catholic emancipation, ought 
 to be, and might easily be, accomplished ; and although 
 Pitt himself noticed at the same time that all the Irish 
 he had seen were in favour of 'a provision for the 
 Catholic clergy, and of some arrangement respecting 
 tithes.' ^ Another co\irse of proceeding was resolved 
 upon. The leading Catholics were to be privately 
 assured that though Government would oppose eman- 
 cipation as long as the Irish Parliament existed, they 
 desired to carry it if the Union was effected. In 
 the autumn of 1799 Cornwallis directed Castlereagh 
 to infonn the English Government that the Union 
 could not be carried if the Catholics were in active 
 opposition, and that their attitude on the question 
 depended mainly upon their hopes of emancipation. 
 He added that friends of the Government had already 
 
 Stanhope's ' Life of Pitt,' v. 1 iii. p. ICl. 
 
162 IlENTvY GRATTAN. 
 
 produced a favourable impression by exciting those 
 hopes, and he desired to know how far he might pursue 
 that course. A Cabinet Imving been hastily summoned, 
 Castlereagh informed him, as the result, that the Minis- 
 ters who composed it were unanimously in favour of the 
 principle of emancipation ; that they apprehended con- 
 siderable repugnance to the measure in many quarters, 
 and particularly in the highest ; that they declined 
 to give an express promise, partly because it would 
 embarrass them in their negotiations with the Pro- 
 testants, and partly because it was not right that such 
 claims should be made a matter of mere bargain ; but 
 that, as far as the sentiments of the Cabinet were 
 concerned, the Lord-Lieutenant was fully authorised to 
 solicit the Catholic support.' This pretended unani- 
 mity, in fact, did not exist, for when the question 
 was formally brought forward in the Cabinet in 1801, 
 it appeared that no less than five of its members were 
 opposed to emancipation ; ^ but of this the Catholic 
 leaders could know nothing. They were probably 
 aware that the King was hostile to emancipation, but 
 they could not know that both in 1795 and 1798 he 
 had distinctly declared that his objections to it were in- 
 superable,' and that tlie overtures made to them were 
 made with a perfect knowledge of his sentiments, with- 
 out any attempt to learn how far they might be modi- 
 lied,'' or any determination to exert the full ministerial 
 
 ' ' Corn wall is Papers,' vol. iii. p. 32G. 
 
 2 Stanhopc'tJ 'Life of Pitt,' vol. iii. p. 273. 
 
 ' Sec tlio very romarkaMc papr drawn up liy the King in 179o, in 
 Canipbeirs 'Lives of the Clianci'llors,* vol. viii. pp. 173-17o; and his 
 letter to Pitt in 1798, in Stanhope's ' Life of Pitt.' iii. Append, xvi. 
 
 * It is charitable to suppose that Pitt really hoped to carry emancipa- 
 tion by forcing the hand of the King after the Union was carried. 
 Mr. Adolphus. who had much private information of the proceedings at 
 cjurt, sjy.s:^/Tho assurance was given to the Irish C'athulics Avitiiout 
 
THE CnURCII ESTABLISHMENT. 163 
 
 power in their favour. They only knew that the chief 
 Irish representatives of one of the strongest govern- 
 ments that ever existed in England represented the 
 Cabinet as unanimously in favour of emancipation, 
 and on that ground solicited their support. Govern- 
 ment influence alone had defeated emancipation in 
 1795. They were told that the Government objection 
 to it would be obviated by a Union, and they inferred 
 that by carrying the Union they were carrying their 
 cause. The great object was to hold out hopes suf- 
 ficient to secure Catholic support or neutrality witliout 
 committing the Government to a distinct pledge ; and 
 this end was most dexterously accomplished. A few 
 sentences written by Lord Castlereagh in 1799 explain 
 the calculation that was made. ' The Catholics,' lie says, 
 ' if offered equality without a Union, will probably prefer 
 it to equality with a Union ; for in the latter case they 
 must ever be content with inferiority, in the former 
 t]iey would probably by degrees gain ascendency. . . . 
 Were the Catholic question to be now carried, the great 
 argument for a Union would be lost, at least as far as 
 tJie Catholics are concerned ; it seems, therefore, more 
 important than ever for Government to resist its adoj>- 
 tion, on the ground that without a Union it must be 
 destructive ; ^vith it, tliat it may be safe.' ' 
 
 While this powerful inducement was offered to the 
 Catholics, another and almost equally strong one was 
 offered to the Protestants. Both Flood and Charle- 
 mont, as I liave already stated, had objected to Catholic 
 emancipation on the ground that it would lead to the 
 
 tlie King's privity, and with a full knowledge of his sentiments Tipon iho 
 suliject, in the hope that his Majesty, ufter tho Union iiad taken place, 
 seeing that Catholic emancipation was indispensable, would agree, huw- 
 evtT reluctantly, to that measure.' — Ilision/ of Fv gland, vol. vi. 
 
 ' ' Castlereagh Correspondence,' vol. ii. p. 1 ](). There are other pas* 
 ^agee to the same effect in the Corrcspondeuce. 
 
164 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 diseslablisbmcnt and disondowment of tlic Established 
 Church, and tlio advocates of Catholic emancipation 
 Iiad always rejected the prophecy witli indignation. 
 By the Union it was maintained that tlie Church would 
 be placed in absolute security, and tliis security was 
 one of the special grounds upon wliich the Protestants 
 were urged to support it. It was of two kinds. The 
 Act of Union was looked upon as a treaty by which 
 the Irish Parliament consented on certain conditions 
 to surrender its separate existence, and one article of 
 that Act, inserted by the desire of Arclibishop Agar, 
 stipulated for the preservation of the Establishment as 
 ' an essential and fundamental part of tlie Union.' 
 Besides this, the Church being placed under the pro- 
 tection of a Legislature w^hicli was likely at all times 
 to remain mainly Protestant, it was imagined that no 
 serious danger could menace it. The stress laid upon 
 these considerations by tlie Government advocates of 
 the Union was very great. 'With the Union,' WTote 
 the Secretary Cooke, ' Ireland would be in a natural 
 situation ; for, all the Protestants of the empire being 
 united, she Avoidd liave the proportion of fourteen to 
 three in favour of her Establishment, whereas at present 
 tliere is a proportion of three to one against it.' ' So 
 long as the separation shall continue,' said Castlercagh, 
 ' the Cluircli of Ireland w^ill ever be liable to be im- 
 peached upon local grounds. Nor will it be able to 
 maintain itself eflfectually against tlie argument of 
 physical force. But when once completely incorpo- 
 rated with the Church of England, it will be placed 
 upon such a strong and natural foundation as to be 
 above all apprehensions and alarms.' 
 
 It is a curious enquiry how far public opinion was 
 influenced by these considerations. The last which I 
 have mentioned appears t » have had extremely little 
 
ATTITUDE OF TROTESTANTS AND CATHOLIC.^. 165 
 
 effect. Clare, Daigenan, and tlie bishops, it is true, 
 were ardent advocates of the Union, but it appears 
 tolerably certain that no considerable section of Pro- 
 testants of any class outside Parliament concurred in 
 their view. Tlie Orangemen were decidedly hostile, 
 and tlie utmost that could be obtained of them was 
 tliat they would not act in their corporate capacity in 
 opposition to it. The Established Church has played an 
 important part in the history of the Union, but it was 
 at a much later period. The conviction that repeal 
 would be followed by disestablishment was one of the 
 reasons that arrayed tlie great majority of the Protes- 
 tants in hostility to O'Connell, and the connection 
 between the two measures was clearly recognised. 
 When Lord John Russell in 1835 was endeavouring to 
 apply a very small part of the Irish Church revenues 
 to secular purposes, INIr. Gladstone, in a speech of con- 
 summate eloquence, denounced the policy of the Whig 
 leader, and predicted the consequences that might 
 flow from it. ' The noble Lord invited them to invade 
 the i^roperty of the Church in Ireland. He (Mr. Glad- 
 stone) considered that they had abundant reasons for 
 maintaining that Church, and if it should be removed 
 he believed that they would not be long able to resist 
 the repeal of the L^nion.'' 
 
 With reference to the Catholics, however, the case 
 is somewhat different. Those of Dublin, indeed, took 
 an active and emphatic part against the Union, and 
 the great majority of them throughout the country 
 were probably either hostile or indifferent to it.* There 
 was, however, imquestionably a real and considerable 
 
 • Iliinsrirvl, Trd ser. vol. xxvii. p. 513. 
 
 - Sec tlio complaint of Lord Cornwallis (Jan. 31, 1800), that the 
 Catliolics wore 'joining tlio sfandanl of opix)sition.' — Cimxwallis Corre* 
 $pondincc. 
 
166 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 Catholic party in its favour, guided with remarkable 
 skill and energy by Troy, the Archbisliop of Dublin, com- 
 prising, among other prelates, tlie Archbishops of Tuam 
 and of Cashel,* and favoured by an important section 
 of the Catholic aristocracy. Corry, the Chancellor of 
 the Exchequer, the most violent opponent of Grattan 
 in the Union debates, won his seat at Newry through 
 the unanimous support of the Catholic voters.* Con- 
 sidered in the light of subsequent history, it is a 
 curious fact tliat the Union was least unpopular in the 
 Province of Munster and in the towns of Cork and 
 Sligo, and that some of the Catholic priests were 
 among the most active agents in procuring signatures 
 to addresses in its favour.^ 
 
 It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that the whole un- 
 bribed intellect of Ireland was opposed to it. Almost 
 the only man of considerable talent in the jMinisterial 
 ranks was Fitzgibbon, who held the office of Lord Chan- 
 cellor, and had obtained the Earldom of Clare. He was a 
 ready and powerful debater, and a man of great per- 
 sonal courage and force of character, but he never ap- 
 pears to have been suspected even by his friends of any 
 patriotic feelings, his intellect was narrow and in- 
 tolerant, and his temper ungovernably violent. He had 
 been at one time considered a Liberal, and owed his 
 promotion in a great degree to Grattan, whom he 
 afterwards attacked with the utmost virulence. Like 
 many Irishmen of a later time, he had the habit of 
 constantly depreciating and vilifying his country — ' our 
 damnable country,' as he described it in a letter to 
 Lord Castlereagh — and he w^as a bitter enemy of the 
 Catholics. He was remarkable for an arrogance of 
 
 ' See the ' Castlcrcngli CoiTospoinlencc,' vol. ii, pp. 344-313. 
 
 2 Ibid. p. 1G8. 
 
 » Ibid. pp. ?6, 328, 318, 349, 400. 
 
FITZGIEBON. 
 
 167 
 
 tone, which in debate is said sometimes to have almost 
 verged upon insanity, and for the reckless manner in 
 whi'ch he displayed his personal antipathies upon the 
 Bench ; and he scandalised the Irish Parliament by the 
 perfect frankness with which he justified a policy of 
 corruption, and the English House of Lords by his 
 apology for the use of torture against the rebels of 
 1798^ Probably no Irishman of his generation was so 
 hated, and when he died the popular delight broke 
 out (as it afterwards did in England at the death of 
 Castlereagh) in a kind of hideous carnival around his 
 coffin. He was, however, quite capable of generous 
 actions, and showed on one or two occasions real 
 humanity towards State prisoners in 1798 ; and his rare 
 skill in stating a case, and his indomitable courage in 
 meeting opposition, made him extremely useful to the 
 INIinistry. For many years he was almost absolute in 
 the House of Lords, and after Lord Castlereagh he con- 
 tributed most to passing the Union. It is, however, 
 curiously illustrative of the tortuous skill with which 
 the Administration of Pitt was conducted, that Clare, 
 when apparently the very leader of the Ministerial 
 party, was kept in complete ignorance of the secret 
 overtures that were made to the Catholic prelates, 
 and of the intentions of the Minister to make the 
 Union the prelude to emancipation.^ 
 
 The Irish Bar was at this time peculiarly rich in 
 
 1 Lord nolland says: 'Lord Ilobart aftcnvards assured mo tliat 
 both ho and Lord Clare had boon deceived by Mr. Pitt, and that ho 
 ^.ould have voted against the Union had he suspected at the time that 
 it xvas connected ^.ith any project of extending the concessions alrra-ly 
 made to tlic Irish Catholics. The present Lord Clare s report of ns 
 father's views of the vhole matter tallies .vith this account of the 
 transaction.'-3/-c;«ofrs of the Whig Tarty, vol. i. p. 162. Sec too, on 
 the indignation of Lord Clare at what he called the ' deception that was 
 practised on him, tho ' Castlereagh Correspondence, vol. iv. pp. 47, 50. 
 
1G8 HENRY C RATTAN. 
 
 talent, and one of the first objects of tlie Government 
 was to corrupt it. To a certain extent the lawyers had 
 undoubtedly a professional interest in keeping the 
 Parliament in Dublin, but, on the other hand, all pro- 
 motions were in the hands of the Government, and 
 every power which the Government possessed was 
 unscrupulously strained. It was certain, beyond all 
 reasonable doubt, that the overwhelming majority of 
 the people of Ireland were opposed to the destruction 
 of their national Parliament, but it was necessary to 
 create some semblance of popular opinion on the other 
 side, and accordingly Castlereagh began his campaign 
 by drawing 5,000L from the secret service fund, 
 and expended tlie greater part of it in bribing young 
 lawyers to write pamphlets in favour of a Union. The 
 vehement part which the Chancellor took in advocating 
 the Union had naturally an influence upon the Bar. 
 All officials who held any office under Government 
 were rigorously expelled if they would not support it, 
 while, on the other hand, crowds of unprincipled and 
 incompetent men were promoted to higli legal honours 
 for defending it. The immobility of the judges having 
 been conceded shortly after the emancipation of Par- 
 liament, and the penal laws having been for the most 
 part abrogated, there was every reason to believe that 
 by a just and upright policy the antipathy to law which 
 had become so deeply ingrained in the Irish character 
 might have been gradually removed. The judicial pro- 
 motions that followed the Union directly and powerfully 
 strengthened it. Lawless men are not likely to learn 
 to reverence tlie law when it is administered by officials 
 whose positions are notoriously the reward of their 
 political profligacy. 
 
 The conduct of the Irish lawyers at this time was on 
 ^e whole eminently noble. In spite of the lavish 
 
DENUNCIATIONS OF TUB TNION. 169 
 
 corruption of the Ministers, tlie great body remained 
 firm to the anti-Ministerial side, and both in public 
 meetings and in Parliament they were the most ardent 
 opponents of the Union, 'Sot does there appear in 
 this respect to have been any considerable difiference 
 between Whigs and Tories, or between Protestants and 
 Catholics. When the measure was first propounded 
 a great meeting was held under the presidency of 
 Saurin, one of the ablest of the Tory lawyers, and was 
 attended by all the leading lawyers of all sides, and 
 at this meeting a resolution condemning the proposed 
 Union was carried by 1G6 to 32. At the end of 1803 
 there were only five members of the minority who had 
 not received appointments from Government, In Par- 
 liament the speeches of Plunket and of some of his 
 legal colleagues were masterpieces of powerful reason- 
 ing, and should be studied by all who desire to know 
 the liglit in wliich the measure appeared to some of 
 tlie njost disciplined intellects in the community. It 
 would, indeed, be scarcely possible to find in the whole 
 compass of Parliamentary eloquence speeches breathing 
 a more intense bitterness. ' I will make bold to say,' 
 said Plunket, ' that licentious and impious France, in 
 all the unrestrained excess which anarchy and atheism 
 liave given birth to, has not committed a more insi- 
 dious act against her enemy than is now attempted by 
 the professed champion of the cause of civilised Europe 
 against her friend and ally in the time of her calamity 
 and distress — at the moment when our country is filled 
 with British troops — when the loyal men of Ireland 
 are fatigued and exhausted by their efforts to subdue 
 the Ivebellion — efforts in which they had succeeded 
 before those troops arrived — whilst the Habeas Corpus 
 Act is suspended — wliilst trials by court-martial are 
 carrying on in many parts of tlie liingdom — whilst the 
 9 
 
170 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 people are taught to think they have no right to meet 
 or deliberate, and whilst the great body of them are 
 so palsied by tlieir fears or worn down by their ex- 
 ertions that even this vital question is scarcely able 
 to rouse them from their lethargy — at a moment when 
 we are distracted by domestic dissensions — dissensions 
 artfully kept alive as the pretext of our present sub- 
 jugation and the instrument of our future thraldom.' 
 'For centuries,' said Bushe, 'the British Parliament 
 and nation kept you down, shackled your commerce 
 and paralysed your exertions, despised your characters 
 and ridiculed your pretensions to any privileges, com- 
 mercial or constitutional. She has never conceded a 
 point to you which she could avoid, nor granted a 
 favour whicli was not reluctantly distilled. They have 
 been all wrung from her like drops of blood, and you 
 are not in possession of a single blessing (except those 
 which you derived from God) that has not been either 
 purchased or extorted by the virtue of your own Par- 
 liament from the illiberality of England.' The lan- 
 guage of Saurin was still stronger. ' If a legislative 
 Union,' he said, ' should be so forced upon this country 
 against the will of its inhabitants it would be a nullity, 
 and resistance to it would be a struggle against usurp- 
 ation, and not a resistance against law. You may 
 make it binding as a law, but you cannot make it 
 obligatory on conscience. It will b3 obeyed as long as 
 England is strong, but resistance to it will be in the 
 abstract a duty, and the exhibition of that resistance 
 will be a mere question of prudence.' ' When I take 
 into account,' said Burrowes, ' the hostile feelings gene- 
 rated by this foul attempt, by bribery, by treason, and 
 by force, to plunder a nation of its liberties in'the hour 
 of its distress, I do not hesitate to pronounce that 
 every sentiment of affection for Great Britain will 
 
MEASURES OF EEFOIIM. 171 
 
 perish if this measure pass, and that, instead of uniting 
 the nations, it will be tlic commencement of an era of 
 inextinguishable animosity.' 
 
 The combined exertions of almost all the men of 
 talent and of almost all the men of pure patriotism 
 in the Parliament were successful in 1799. Tho 
 Government Bill was defeated by 109 to 104, and the 
 illumination of Dublin attested the feeling of the 
 people. Tlie national party did all that was in their 
 power to secure their triumph, for they foresaw clearly 
 that tlie struggle would be renewed. Ponsonby brought 
 forward a resolution pledging tlie House to resist every 
 future measure involving the principle it had con- 
 demned, but he was compelled eventually to withdraw 
 it. ]Mr. Dobus, a lawyer of some talents and the purest 
 patriotism, but whose influence was impaired by an 
 extraordinary monomania on the subject of prophecy,' 
 brought forward a series of measures for the purpose 
 of tranquillising the country, comprising Reform, Catho- 
 lic Emancipation, and the payment of the priests ; but 
 the Government was again successful, and the shadov/ 
 of the coming year fell darkly on every patriotic mind. 
 
 These gloomy forebodings were soon verified. After a 
 series of measures of corruption which I shall presently 
 
 ' lie bflievcd that Armagh is Armageddon. Tfcc Irish, it appears, 
 of Amiagh is Armaceuddou ; c and ^ aro interchangeable letters, and 
 thus, l»y contraction, we fchould have Armageddon. Armacead«lou 
 means the hill of the prophet; and some 'eminent Hebrew scholar' 
 considered that Armageddon meant much the same. Mr. Dobbs alt^o 
 considered that the ' vrhite linen* in the Apocalypse alluded to the linen 
 trade in Ireland, the sea of glass to its insular position, the harps borne 
 by tho angels to its national arms, and that the Giant's Causeway 
 ■was the Stone of Daniel. Ho wrote two books, ' A Short View of 
 Prophecy' and 'A Universal History,' both in letters to his son. Un- 
 like most persons who indulge in tliosc eccentric opinions, ho was as 
 liberal as he was patriotic, and was selecte<l by Grattan to carry the 
 resolutions in favour of the repeal of tho penal laws to the Volunteers 
 at Dungannon. 
 
172 HENRY GIJATTAN. 
 
 describe, the Union was again introduced, and this 
 time "with success. Grattan Avas suffering from a severe 
 illness. His strength was completely prostrated, and 
 he was not in a lit condition for the most moderate 
 exertion, far less for a great political contest. In 
 his country's extremity, however, it was not fitting 
 that he should be absent from her councils, and he 
 accordingly procured his election for Wicklow, and 
 entered the House during the debate. He wore the 
 uniform of the Volunteers. He was so feeble that he 
 could only walk with the assistance of two friends, and 
 his head hung drooping upon his chest, but an \m- 
 wonted fire sparkled in his eye, and the flush of deep 
 emotion mantled his cheek. There was a moment's 
 pause, an electric thrill passed through the House, and 
 then a long wild cheer burst from the galleries. Shortly 
 afterwards he rose to speak, but his strength failed 
 him, and he obtained leave to address the House sitting. 
 Then was witnessed that spectacle, among the grandest 
 in the whole range of mental phenomena, of mind 
 asserting its supremacy over matter — of the power of 
 enthusiasm and the power of genius nerving a feeble 
 and an emaciated framxC. As the fire of oratory kindled 
 — as the angel of enthusiasm touched those pallid lips 
 with the living coal — as the old scenes crowded on the 
 speaker's mind, and the old plaudits broke upon his 
 ear, it seemed as though the force of disease was neu- 
 tralised, and the buoyancy of youth restored. His voice 
 gained a deeper power, his action a more commanding 
 energy, his eloquence an ever-increasing brilliancy. 
 For more than two hours he poured forth a stream of 
 epigram, of argument, and of appeal. He traversed 
 almost the whole of that complex question — he grappled 
 with the various arguments of expediency the Ministers 
 had urged ; but he placed the issue on the highest of 
 
THE UNION. 173 
 
 grounds. ' The thing lie proposes to buy is what can- 
 not be sold — liberty.' AVhen he at last concluded, it 
 must have been felt by all his friends that if the Irish 
 Parliament could have been saved by eloquence it 
 would have been saved by him. He had been for ^ome 
 time vehemently denounced in Parliament, and Corry 
 now attempted to crush him by a violent attack. 
 Grattan, however, treated his adversary with contemp- 
 tuous silence till the assault had been three times 
 repeated, when he terminated the contest by a very 
 brief but most crushing invective, and a duel, in which 
 Corry was wounded, was the result. 
 
 It was soon evident, however, that no eloquence and 
 no arguments could save the constitution of Ireland. 
 In division after division Grattan was defeated, and he 
 saw with an ineffable anguish the edifice which he had 
 done so much to construct sinking into inevitable dis- 
 solution. Night after night the contest was vainly 
 prolonged with a feverish and impassioned earnestness. 
 Yet, even at that period, hope was not quite ex- 
 tinguished in his party. They saw that a Union 
 was inevitable, but some, at least, looked beyond it. 
 ' I know,' said Goold, ' that the ^Ministers must suc- 
 ceed ; yet I will not go away with an aching heart, 
 because I know that the liberties of the people must 
 ultimately triumph. The people must at present 
 submit, because they cannot resist 120,000 armed 
 men ; but the period will occur when, as in 1782, 
 England may be weak, and Ireland sufficiently strong 
 to recover her lost liberties.' Nor were the last words 
 of Grattan devoid of hope : ' The constitution,' he 
 exclaimed, ' may for a time be lost, but the character 
 of the people cannot be lost. The Ministers of the 
 Crown may perhaps at length find out that it is not so 
 easy to put down for ever au ancient and respectable 
 
174 HENRY GKATTAN. 
 
 nation by abilities, however great, or by corruption, 
 however irresistible. Liberty may repair her golden 
 beams, and with redoubled lieat animate the country. 
 The cry of loyalty will not long continue against the 
 principles of liberty. Loyalty is a noble, a judicious, 
 and a capacious principle, but in tliese countries 
 loyalty distinct from liberty is corruption, not loyalty. 
 The cry of the connection will not in the end avail 
 against the principles of liberty. Connection is a wise 
 and a profound policy, but connection witliout an Irish 
 Parliament is connection without its own principle, 
 without analogy of condition, without the pride of 
 lionour that should attend it — is innovation, is peril, 
 is subjugation — not connection. . . . Identification is 
 a solid and imperial maxim, necessary for tlie preserva- 
 tion of freedom, necessary for that of empire ; bub 
 without union of hearts, with a sej^arate Government 
 and without a separate Parliament, identification is 
 extinction, is dishonour, is conquest — not identifica- 
 tion. Yet I do not give up my country. I see her in 
 ;i swoon, but she is not dead. Though in her tomb 
 slie lies helpless and motionless, still there is on her 
 lips a spirit of life, and on her cheek a glow of beauty : 
 
 Thou :irt not conquered : Lcauty's cnsijj^n yet 
 Is crimson in thy lips and in thy chocks, 
 And death's pale flag is not advanced tliere. 
 
 While a plank of the vessel stands together, I will not 
 leave her. Let the courtier present his flimsy sail, 
 and carry the liglit bark of his faith with every new 
 breath of wind ; I will remain anchored here with 
 fidelity to the fortunes of my coimtry, faithful to her 
 freedom, faithful to her fall.' These w^re the last 
 words of Grattan in the Irish Parliament. 
 
 In England, Sheridan resisted the measure at every 
 step of its i^rogress with j^ersevering earnestness. He 
 
THE UNION. 175 
 
 moved that its consideration should be delayed till the 
 sentiments of the people of Ireland had been ascer- 
 tained, but his motion ^vas defeated by 30 to 206. ' I 
 would have fought for tliat Irish Parliament,' he after- 
 wards exclaimed to Grattan — * ay, iip to the knees in 
 blood ! ' Among the speakers on the measure in tlie 
 House of Lords was Lord Byron, who described it as 
 the ' union of the shark with its prey.' All opposition, 
 however, was fruitless, and the Bill received the royal 
 assent on August 1. 
 
 It has been argued, with much force, and in perfect 
 accordance with the doctrines of the great political 
 writers of the seventeenth century, that the Irisli 
 Parliament was constitutionally incompetent to pass 
 the Union. It was the trustee, not the possessor, of 
 the legislative power. It was appointed to legislate, 
 not to transfer legislation — to serve the people for 
 eight years, not to hand over the people to another 
 Legislature. The Act was in principle the same as if 
 the Sovereign of England were to transfer her autho- 
 rity to the sovereign of another nation. It transcended 
 the capacities of Parliament, and was therefore consti- 
 tutionally a usurpation. ' The Legislature,' in the words 
 of Locke, ' neither must nor can transfer the power of 
 making laws to anybody else, or place it anywhere but 
 where the people have.' 
 
 The only qualification which is to be made to tliis 
 doctrine is a very obvious one. Parliament is the 
 trustee of the nation, but the nation may enlarge its 
 powers, and give it tlie right to destroy itself. The 
 essential condition of the constitutional validity of 
 an act by which the national representatives destroy 
 the national representation is that the policy of that 
 act should have been submitted to the decision of 
 the. constituents. In our own day, no considerable 
 
176 IZENKY GRATTAN. 
 
 innovation in politics, no matcriiil modificition in tTie 
 representative system, could be effected wifhout uucli 
 a-n appeal, and it is one of tlie most impo^-faiit func- 
 tions of a ^yell-organised House of Lords that it 
 delays contemplated changes until it has boon made. 
 But the Union, whicli swept away a Parliaiuent thatl 
 had existed for centuries, and had recently been cman- \ 
 cipated by the enthusiasm of the entire nation, was " 
 carried without a dissolution, without any reference to 
 the voice of the people. It is a memorable fact, indi- 
 cating the power of the Tory reaction whicli followed 
 the French Kevolution, that v/hen Irish T/Iberals and 
 English Whig statesmen urged that a qTiestion of this 
 kind ought to be brought before the nation by a disso- 
 lution, their doctrine was again and again denounced 
 by Pitt as tlie most palpable and most flagrant 
 Jacobinism. The Government not only showed no 
 desire to consult the wishes of the people, but it even 
 strenuously laboured to separate the representatives 
 from their influence. ' It seems,' wrote the Duke of 
 Portland to Lord Castlereagh in 1799, 'as if the cry of 
 Dublin l)ad carried away many gentlemen whose 
 interests in all respects must be benefited by a 
 Union ; and I have seen with some surprise, as well 
 as with real concern, a deference expressed for the 
 opinion of constituents which I conceive to have been 
 as unnecessary as it is entirely imconstitutional.' * 
 ' The clamour out of doors,' wrote Lord Cornwallis in 
 the same year, ' is chiefly to be apprehended as fur- 
 nishing the members -within with a plausible pretext 
 for acting in conformity to their own private feelings.' * 
 If the people, however, were not to influence their 
 rej^resentatives, there was another kind of influence 
 
 ' ■* Castlereagh Correspondence,' toI. ii. p. 1-iG. 
 - ' Coru-ftallis Correspomk-nce,' Jan. 1799. 
 
THE UNION. 177 
 
 about which do scruples were entcrtaiucd. It is, I 
 believe, a simple and unexaggerated statement of the 
 truth, that in the entire history of representative 
 government tliere is no instance of corruption having 
 been applied on so large a scale, and with so audacious 
 an effrontery, as by the Ministers in Ireland. The 
 trustees of the patronage of the nation, their one 
 object was, by the abuse of their trust, to bribe the 
 representatives to sacrifice their constituents. The 
 constitution of Pailiament, in which more than one- 
 third of the seats were nomination boroughs, and a 
 large proportion of these boroughs in four or five 
 hands, gave them fatal facilities, and a long course of 
 adverse influences had made the political classes in 
 Ireland profoundly corrupt. Lord Cornwallis, the 
 Lord-Lieutenant — a brave, frank, and humane soldier, 
 who was sincerely anxious to benefit the empire, and 
 who retained his honourable instincts while discharging 
 a most dishonourable office — felt acutely the task tliat 
 was confided to him, and in one of his letters applied 
 to himself with remarkable candour the lines of Swift : 
 
 From liell ii viceroy devil ascends, 
 llis budget -vrith corruption crammed, 
 The contributions of the damned, 
 "Whicli with nn?paring hand he strows 
 Through courts and Senate as he goes. 
 
 ' The political jobbery of this country,' he writes, 
 ' gets the better of me. ... I trust that I sliall live 
 to get out of this most cursed of all situations, and 
 most repugnant to my feelings. How I long to kick 
 those whom my public duty obliges me to court ! ' 
 ' jNIy occupation is now of tlie most unpleasant nature, 
 negotiating and jobbing with the most corrupt people 
 imder heaven. I despise and hate myself every hour 
 for engaging in such dirty work, and am supported 
 
178 HENRY GII\TTAN. 
 
 oiily by the reflection that witliout an Union tlie 
 Bvitiirli empire must be dissolved.' * 
 
 Castlercagh, liowever, who was the more immediate 
 agent in corrupting, appears to have performed liis 
 task with a perfect equanimity ; and Pitt, the great 
 contriver and organiser of the whole, preserved 
 lln-oughout that tone of lofty piety, and serene, self- 
 comj)lacent virtue, which he knew so well how to 
 assume. All the resources of ecclesiastical, judicial, 
 county, and other patronage were strained to the 
 utmost to find places for those w^ho would support the 
 Union, or to provide for their families and friends ; 
 and when these did not suffice, sinecures, pensions, 
 sums from the secret service money, were lavishly em- 
 ployed. A direct, minute system of corruption was 
 applied to every individual w^hose constancy was not 
 regarded as unassailable. But it was soon found that 
 all tliis would fail unless measures of a more sweeping 
 kind were taken. The majority of the landlord class, 
 in whose hands the county representation remained, 
 w^ere strongly opposed to the Union ; and Castlereagh 
 in 1799 complained bitterly of 'the warmth of the 
 country gentlemen, who spoke in great numbers and 
 with much energy against the question ; ' ^ but the 
 county seats w^erc immensely outnumbered by the 
 boroughs, and to purchase these was soon found to bo 
 necessary. Adopting a plan which he had recom- 
 mended in 1785 in England, Pitt determined to 
 recognise the patronage of a borough as a form of 
 property, and, in the event of tlie abolition of the 
 Irish Parliament, to compensate the patrons at the 
 rate of 7,500^. a seat. A million and a quarter was 
 expended cliiefly in this manner, and the selfish in- 
 
 ' Cornwallis Correspondence,' vol. iii. pp. 101, 102. 
 - ' C.ibtlereagh Corrcspoiidein-c,' vol. ii. p. 143. 
 
THE UNION. 179 
 
 terests of the most influential classes in Ireland passed 
 to tlie side of the Union, while further compensation 
 was given to other politicians whose interests it was 
 believed would be injuriously afiTccted by the measure. 
 
 Tlie precedent of 1800 was afterwards remembered 
 when the English nomination boroughs were abolished 
 in 1832 ; but all parties indignantly repudiated the 
 notion of recognising such a principle in England. 
 Another mode of corruption scarcely less efficacious 
 was employed to influence the wealthier Irish gentry. 
 Peerages to this class are always a peculiar object of 
 ambition, and they had long been given in Ireland 
 with a lavishness which materially degraded the posi- 
 tion. In England, the simultaneous creation of twelve 
 peers by Harley had been regarded as a scandalous and 
 imprecedented straining of the prerogative; but no 
 sooner had the Union been carried than Lord Corn- 
 wallis sent to England the names of sixteen persons, to 
 whom he had expressly promised Irish peerages as 
 rewards for their support of the Union. But these 
 ])romotions were but a small part of what was found 
 necessary ; twenty-two Irisli peers were created, five 
 peers received English peerages, and twenty peers 
 i-eceivcd higher titles. 
 
 It was a boast of Lord Castlercagli that, wliatevcsr 
 might be the case with the majority of the Irish 
 l)eople, the preponderance of landed property was un- 
 questionably on the side of the supj-jorters of the 
 Union. In making this calculation, lie took into 
 account the Irish peers, who were chiefly subservient 
 to the Government ; the bishops, who were very 
 wealthy, and who, with two exceptions, voted for the 
 Union ; and the great English noblemen who possessed 
 estates in Ireland: but he also maintained that the 
 balance of property in the Commons, though not in 
 
180 IIENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 the same degree, was on the same sideJ Considering 
 the part that was taken by the county members, this 
 last calculation seems very questionable, but, if it be 
 true, it is not difficult to explain it. The Ministers, 
 by money or by dignities, had bought almost all the 
 great borough-owners, as well as a large proportion of 
 the members, and they thus made their success certain. 
 One difficulty, however, still remained. It was found 
 that several of the borough members were not prepared 
 to vote for the Union, although their patrons had been 
 bought. The most obvious way of meeting this diffi- 
 culty would have been to have dissolved Parliament, 
 but such a step would have given the free constituencies 
 an opportunity of testifying their abhorrence of the 
 measure. A simpler method was accordingly adopted. 
 A place Bill, intended to guard the purity of Parlia- 
 ment against the corruption of Ministers, by compelling 
 all who accepted office to vacate their seats, had been 
 recently passed, and the Ministers ingeniously availed 
 themselves of tliis to consummate the triumph of cor- 
 ruption. According to the code of honour which then 
 prevailed both in England and Ireland, the members 
 of nomination boroughs who were unwilling to vote as 
 their patrons directed considered themselves bound to 
 accept nominal offices, and thus vacate their seats, 
 which were at once tilled by staunch Unionists, in 
 some instances by English and Scotch men vv'holly un- 
 connected with Ireland. 
 
 By these means the majority was formed which sold • 
 the constitution of Ireland. Lord Cornwallis, in a \ 
 private letter, described its cliaractcr with perfect ' 
 frankness. ' The nearer the great event approaches,' ; 
 he wrote, 'the more are the needy and interested 
 senators alarmed at the effects it may possibly have on 
 
 * ' Cornwallis Correspoadeuco,' vol. iii. p. 221. 
 
THE UNION. 181 
 
 their interests and the provision for tlitir families, and 
 I believe that half of our majority would be at heart as 
 much delighted as any of our opponents if the measure 
 could be defeated.' ^ G rattan, who had unusual oppor- 
 tunities of judging, afterwards expressed his opinion 
 that, of the members who voted for the Union, only 
 seven were imbribed.* 
 
 While these events were taking place, the nation, as 
 I have said, was prostrated and exhausted by the 
 Rebellion. A fierce animosity divided the Catholics 
 and Protestants ; the country was full of English 
 troops ; and the reign of martial law, as well as the 
 reaction of exaggerated loyalty that always follows 
 insurrection, made men more than commonly timid 
 in opposing tlie Government. A considerable pro- 
 portion of the Catholic priests had been successfully 
 bribed by the hope of payment, commutation of 
 tithes, and emancipation. Their flocks, through fear, 
 influence, or resentment, were chiefly passive, and the 
 wealthiest Protestant i^roprietors had been purchased 
 by peerages or places. But, notwithstanding all this, 
 i- twenty-eight countiet^, twenty of tliem being unani- 
 mous, pL'titioned against the Union ; and the petitions 
 against it are said to have liad more than 700,000 
 signatures, while those in its favour had only 7,000.^ 
 Of the Irish Parliament itself, Mr. Grey, in the English 
 Jfouse of Commons, gave the following analysis: 
 'There are 300 members in all, and 120 of these 
 strenuously opposed the measure, among whom were 
 two-thirds of tlie county members, the representatives 
 of the city of Dublin, and almost all the towns which 
 it is proposed shall send members to the linperial 
 Parliament: 1G2 voted in favour of the Union; of 
 
 • ' Corn'svallis Correspondence,' vol. iii. p. 228. 
 ' Grattan's Life, vol. v. p. 113. ' Ibid. p. 51. 
 
182 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 these, 116 Tvcre placemen. Some of them were 
 English generals on the staff, witliout a foot of ground 
 in Ireland, and completely dependent upon Govern- 
 ment.' ' In the case of Ireland, as truly as in the case 
 of Poland, a national constitution was destroyed by a 
 foreign Power, contrary to the wishes of the people. In 
 the one case, the deed was a crime of violence ; in the 
 other, it was a crime of treachery and corruption. In 
 both cases a legacy of enduring bitterness was the result. 
 There are, indeed, few things more discreditable to 
 English political literature than the tone of palliation, 
 or even of eulogy, that is usually adopted towards the 
 autliors of this transaction. Scarcely any element or 
 aggravation of political immorality was wanting, and 
 the term honour, if it be applied to such men as 
 Castlereagli or Pitt, ceases to have any real meaning 
 in politics. Whatever may be thought of the abstract 
 merits of the arrangement, the Union, as it was car- 
 ried, was a crime of the deepest turpitude— a crime 
 which, by imposing, with every circumstance of in- 
 famy, a new form of government on a reluctant and 
 protesting nation, has vitiated the whole course of Irish 
 opinion. The loyalty of a nation is chiefly due to the 
 associations formed by tlie events of its history, but 
 these in Ireland liave tended with a melancholy uni- 
 formity in the opposite direction. I have already 
 observed how the three greatest English rulers, Eliza- 
 beth, Cromwell, and William III., are associated in 
 Ireland with memories of disaster and humiliation, 
 and how the prostration of English power in America 
 produced tJie Irish declaration of independence. Flood 
 desired to employ the Volunteer movement to coerce 
 the Parliament and Grovernment into a reform, ])ut 
 the policy of Grattan and Cliarlemont prevailed. Tlic 
 
 » llansarJ, vol. xxxv. y. GO (.Ajt.! 'J!, 1 SOO^. 
 
THE UNION. 183 
 
 Volunteers, witli a signal loyalty, disbanded, and left 
 the question of reform to the constitutional forces 
 of the nation. The result was that the prediction of 
 Flood was fully verified ; tJie corruption of Parliament 
 was carefully maintained and aggravated, and it was 
 ultimately made the means of destroying tlie consti- 
 tution. The danger that menaced England from 
 France in 1793 produced the concession of the suffrage 
 to the Catholics. The weakness of Ireland after tlie 
 Rebellion was made an opportunity of depriving her of 
 lier Legislature. Tlie prospect of emancipation and of 
 the commutation of tithes was held out to the Ca- 
 tholics, and they, for the most part, abstained in con- 
 sequence from actively opposing the Union, but when 
 the measure had been carried Pitt sacrificed them 
 with little more than a show of reluctance to the 
 King. Eventually, however, the Catholics were eman- 
 cipated and the tithes commuted, but tlie first mea- 
 sure Avas due to an agitation which brought the 
 country to the verge of civil war, and tlie second was 
 the reward of almost universal rebellion against the 
 law. Thus, generation after generation, by a slow, 
 steady, and fatal j^rocess, the nation has been educated 
 into disloyalty, taught to look with distrust upon con- 
 stitutional means of obtaining its ends, and accustomed 
 to regard outrage and violence as the invariable preludes 
 of concession. 
 
 That the Parliament which was svrept away in 1800, 
 and the political classes it represented, were exceedingly 
 corrupt cannot reasonably be questioned. Almost all 
 the honest patriots of the country were, I believe, on 
 the side of the Opposition, and there were men among 
 them who would have done honour to any legislative 
 assembly ; but it is a mere delusion to regard the op- 
 ponents of the Union as exclusively or mainly actuated 
 
184 HENRY GBATTAK. 
 
 by pure patriotism. Selfish local and personal motives 
 contributed largely to their opposition, and they also 
 attempted to carry their ends by corruption. When, 
 however, the undoubted venality of tlie Parliament ia 
 urged as an apology for the Union, an Irish -writer 
 may be permitted to remind his readers to whom that 
 venality is to be ascribed — who resisted every serious 
 effort of reform. The corruption of the Legislature had 
 been made a main function of the Government, and it 
 was successfully accomplished. If, however, the spec- 
 tacle presented by the majority in that Legislature in 
 1800 was eminently despicable, it should not be for 
 gotten that there is no other instance in history of 
 such extensive corruption being applied to a legislative 
 body ; that in the first year, when the Union was 
 brought forward. Parliament was proof against tempt- 
 ation ; that the measure was ultimately carried by 
 introducing into the nomination boroughs new mem- 
 bers, in some instances wholly unconnected with Ire- 
 land ; and that, defective as the constitution of 
 Parliament undoubtedly was, it is extremely question- 
 able whether the Union could have been carried had 
 there been a dissolution. It must be added, too, that 
 the corruption of the House of Commons was not so 
 great as to prevent it on important occasions from 
 yielding to the wishes of the people. The Irish House 
 of Lords was a perfectly subservient body ; the Irish 
 House of Commons never was. In the early part of the 
 eighteenth century the refractory element in it wj'.s 
 chieily due to the extreme dislike of the Irish land- 
 lords to tithes, while the English interest was for a 
 long space of time directed by the Primates of the 
 Church. Archbishop Boulter complains bitterly of the 
 opposition he had on this ground to encounter, and of 
 the desire of the Parliament on every occasion to 
 
CHARACTER OF THE IRISH rARLIAME>T. 18 J 
 
 injure the Church.* At a lat-er period the Octennial 
 Bill was forced bj public opinion on a very reluctant 
 Parliament, and Parlianaent fully reflected tlie national 
 enthusiasm in 1782. In Ireland, as in England, a cer- 
 tain proportion of tlie borough-owners were patriotic, 
 and several of them came forward prominently in sup- 
 port of the Reform Bill of Flood.'* Parliamentary re- 
 form in Ireland would undoubtedly have been very 
 difficult, but, liad the Parliament continued, it would 
 at last have been effected, as in England, by the in- 
 fluence of the Government, aided by the defection of 
 some of tlie borough-owners, and supported by an over- 
 whelming pressure of public opinion. The Irish Parlia- 
 ment, tliough very corrupt if compared with the British 
 Parliament at the end of the last century, and of course 
 still more w^th that of our own day, was probably not 
 much more corrupt, and was certainly much more tole- 
 rant, than that which sat in London in the early years 
 of the eighteenth century. It was guided habitually 
 by sordid motives, but it not un frequently rose above 
 them ; and this is about as much as can be said for 
 not a few of the Parliaments of England. No one has 
 stigmatised the Irish Legislature in more vehement 
 terms than Lord Macaulay, but he could hardly apply 
 to it stronger terms of condemnation than he applied 
 to the Engli'ih Parliament of Walpole, ' who governed 
 by corruption, because in his time it was impossible to 
 govern otherwise.' ' A lai-ge proportion of the mem- 
 bers,' we are told, 'had absolutely no motive to support 
 any Administration except their own interest, in the 
 lowest sense of the word. Under these circumstances, 
 the country could be governed only by corruption. . . . 
 We might as well accuse the poor Ivowland farmers, 
 
 > See Bonltors Lcttprs, vd. ii. pp. 151, 217, 231-236. 
 ' Grattau's Life, vol. iii. p. 123. 
 
186 IIEKKY GRATTAN. 
 
 who paid blackmail to Ixob Eoy, of corraptin<^ the 
 virtue of the Highlanders, as accuse Sir R. Walpole of 
 corrupting the virtue of Parliament.' 
 
 But, in truth, tlie clouds of entlmsiasm or obloquy 
 which during the Repeal contest gathered so thickly 
 around this portion of Irish history, make it even now 
 difficult for cither English or Irish writers to pronounce 
 with perfect impartiality on the merits of the old Par- 
 liament of Ireland. The time may come when the histo- 
 rians of other nations may review its history, and I can- 
 not but think that, while they will find much to blame, 
 they will find in its later years at least something to ad- 
 mire. In estimating the character of a Legislature, we 
 •sliould consider the period of its existence, the difficul- 
 ties with which it had to contend, and tlie temptations 
 to which it was exposed ; and if these things be taken 
 into account, the Irish I*arliament will not be wholly 
 condemned. Seldom has even the Imperial Parliament 
 exhibited a constellation of genius more brilliant, more 
 varied, and more pure than that which is suggested by 
 tlie names of Grattan and Flood, of Curran, Plunket, 
 Hutchinson, and Burrowes. Tliat a Legislature so defec- 
 tive in its constitution should have continued to exist 
 is indeed wonderful, but it is far more wonderful that 
 it should have achieved what it did — that it should 
 have asserted its own independence — that it should 
 Iiave riven the chains that fettered its trade — that it 
 should have removed the most serious disabilities 
 under which the mass of the people laboured — that it 
 should have voluntarily given up the monopoly of 
 power it possessed, as representing the Protestants 
 alone. With every inducement to religious bigotry, 
 it carried the policy of toleration in many respects 
 much farther than the Parliament of England. With 
 every inducement to disloyalty, it was steadily faithful 
 
CHAltACTEU OF THE IHIS1I tahliament. 187 
 
 to the connection. And its rcimUvti>,n has ^f'-'^f^^V 
 its fidelity, for the bitter invectives of t>>« United 
 Iri-^hman Wolfe Tone have been reproduc.il by English 
 writers as if they were the most impartial description 
 
 of its merits.' ,,. . ^ r 
 
 'I ar-ue not,' said Giattan, 'like the Minister, from 
 the misconduct of one Parliament against the being of 
 Parliament itself. I value that Parliainentary consti- 
 tution by the average of its benefits, and I affirm that 
 the blessings procured by the Irish Parliament in the 
 Ust twenty years are greater than the blessings afforded 
 l,y British Parliaments to Ireland for the last century; 
 Greater even than the mischiefs inflicted on Ireland by 
 British Parliaments; greater than all the blessings pro- 
 cured by these Parliaments for their own country 
 within that period. Within that time the Legislature 
 of England lost an empire, and the Legislature of 
 Ireland recovered a constitution.' , „ ,. 
 
 Nor should it be omitted that the Irish Parliament 
 was on the whole a vigilant and intelligent guardian of 
 the material interests of the country. During the greater 
 part of the century, indeed, it had little power except 
 that of protesting against laws crushing Irish commerce ; 
 but what little it could do it appears to have done. Its 
 Journals show a minute attention to industrial ques- 
 tions, to the improvement of means of communication 
 to the execution of public works. One of the most 
 important events in English industrial history m the 
 eio-hteentli century was the creation of a system of 
 inland navigation by means of canals with locks-an 
 
 . Tims c n., Maeaul.y, in his v.ry fine speech ■ on the state of IrehmJ' 
 having F»u/J a n,nUi,ade of fierce epithets on the ^^^;^;^:Z 
 
 t reptnfe n>ay be, for I o,.l,j repeat the language of Wolfe lone. 
 
188 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 improvement which is due to the genius of tlie engineer 
 Brindley, and to the enterprise of tlie Duke of Bridge- 
 water. The first canal of any magnitude in England 
 was that betw^een Worsley and Manchester, w^hich was 
 opened in 1761. The experiment was practically a. 
 new one, for, with one very inconsiderable exception, 
 there was no other canal in England. But the Irish 
 Parliament appears to have immediately perceived the 
 importance of the enterprise, and the energy and ala- 
 crity with whicli it undertook to provide Ireland with 
 a complete system of internal navigation is beyond all 
 praise. In 1761 it voted a sum of 13,500/. to the cor- 
 porations of several inland navigations, and made 
 special grants for a canal from Dublin to the Shannon, 
 and for improving tlie navigation of the Shannon, Bar- 
 row, and Boyne. Two years later works of the most 
 extensive kind appear to have been undertaken. 
 Among the votes of the Irish House of Commons in 
 1763 we find grants for the construction of a canal 
 between Dublin and the Shannon ; for a canal from 
 Newry to Lough Ncagh ; for a canal connecting Loch 
 S willy and Loch Foyle ; for a canal which, togetlicr 
 with improvements on the river Lagan, w^as intended 
 to complete the navigation between Loch Neagh and 
 the sea at Belfast ; and for four other inland naviga- 
 tions by canals.^ In the last years of the Irish Parlia- 
 ment, or at all events from the concession of free trade 
 in 1779 to the Kebellion of 1798, the material progress 
 of Ireland was rapid and uninterrupted. In ten years, 
 from 1782, the exports more than trebled.^ Lord Shef- 
 field, who wrote upon Irish commerce in 1785, said, 
 ' At present, perhaps, the improvement of Ireland is as 
 rapid as any country ever experienced ; ' and Lord 
 
 ' jVIucphcrson's ' Anntils of ComniPrcc,' vol. iii. pp. 349-3S3. 
 2 Sec Grdttan'd P^pccoli, M.iy IS, IS 10. 
 
DANGERS OF A SEPATIATE LEGISLATURE. 189 
 
 Clare, in a pamphlet which appeared in 1798, made a 
 similar assertion with much greater emphasis. Speak- 
 in- of the period that had elapsed since 1782, he said, 
 ' There is not a nation in the habitable globe which 
 has advanced in cultivation and commerce, in agricul- 
 ture and manufactures, with the same rapidity in the 
 
 same period.' 
 
 The danf^ers to the connection wliich have been sup- 
 posed to spHng from the existence of the Irish Parlia- 
 ment have been chiefly illustrated by the Eebellion 
 of 1798 and by the dissension on the Regency ques- 
 tion. The former may be very rapidly disposed of; 
 for to identify it in any degree with the indepen- 
 dence of Parliament is to manifest a complete igno- 
 rance of the facts of the case. The Rebellion of '98 
 was produced by exceptional causes-by the excite- 
 ment consequent upon the French Revolution, acting 
 upon the excitement consequent on the recall of Lord 
 Fitzwilliam. It was not represented by any party m 
 Parliament. Grattan, who was the leader of the Irish 
 Whios, was so bitterly opposed to everything trench 
 that he completely separated himself on French ques- 
 tions from Fox and the English Whigs, with whom he 
 P-enerally acted, and who looked with favour on the 
 Revolution. He once went so far as to speak of 
 ' eternal friendship with France' as one of the 'curses 
 to which Ireland would be doomed if emancipation were 
 withheld. On the other hand, perhaps, no one ever 
 hated the Parliament more than the United Irishmen. 
 The people rebelled, not because there was an organ of 
 public opinion in the land, but because that organ, 
 while unreformed, did not sufficiently represent the 
 national feeling. It was the energetic exertion of the 
 Parliament that repressed the Rebellion before the 
 arrival of the English troops ; and had it not been tor 
 
190 HENKT G RATTAN. 
 
 its prompt and decisive action, it is difficult to say 
 how far the movement might have spread. 
 
 The difference which arose between the English and 
 Irish Parliaments concerning the Regency was un- 
 doubtedly a very serious embarrassment ; but its con- 
 stitutional importance has, I think, been greatly exag- 
 gerated. It was admitted on all sides that the Sove- 
 reign possessed the same plenitude of power in Ireland 
 as in England, but the question which arose when he 
 had been incapacitated by insanity was absolutely 
 novel and unprecedented. It had been foreseen by no 
 statesman, and nothing in past English liistory was of 
 any real assistance in solving it. The English Parlia- 
 ment decided that the authority of providing for the 
 discharge of tlie functions of royalty reverted to Par- 
 liament, which had a right to impose what restrictions 
 it pleased upon the Regent. The Irish Parliament, 
 adopting, it may be observed, the more modest view of 
 the functions of Parliament — a view which has recently 
 been defended by the high authority of Lord Campbell 
 — maintained that in an hereditary monarchy tho 
 eldest son of the Sovereign has the same absolute 
 right to his father's place during the incapacity, as lie 
 would have after the death, of the latter. The ditfer- 
 cnce was no doubt perplexing, and for a time danger- 
 ous ; but it was extremely easy to guard against the 
 possibility of its recurrence by a special law providing 
 that whoever exercised the power of Regent de facto 
 in England should exercise a similar power de jure in 
 Ireland. A corresponding legal maxim was already 
 recognised in the case of the Sovereign ; tlicre would 
 have been no real difficulty in extending it to the case 
 of the Regent, and a resolution to that effect was actu- 
 ally brought forward by the anti-Union party. 
 
 If, however, we consider the question in a more 
 
DANGERS OF A SEPARATE LEGISLATURE. 191 
 
 general point of view, it must be admitted that a col- 
 lision between two independent Legislatures was by no 
 means an unlikely event ; and it is impossible to doubt 
 that in that case the connection miglit be seriously 
 endangered. The peril from this source was real and 
 grave ; and it appears to me plain that for tliis, as for 
 other reasons, the system of 1782 must eventually have 
 been modified. At the same time the danger has been 
 overrated ; and were it otherwise, a premature Union 
 unaccompanied by emancipation was not-the proper way 
 of averting it. A very similar danger exists in the Bri- 
 tish constitution itself, for if a difference arose between 
 its three constituent elements, in which each obsti- 
 nately refused to yield. Government might be brought 
 to a dead lock, or the nation to a revolution or a v>-ar 
 of classes. The complexity of the constitution is re- 
 tained, not because such a catastrophe is impossible, 
 but because it is believed that the advantages prepon- 
 derate over the disadvantages — because, although imder 
 certain circumstances that complexity might create 
 discord and revolution, it is on the whole admirably 
 calculated to prevent or allay them. The blended 
 force of interest and patriotism inspire the Sovereign, 
 the aristocracy, and the Commons with the spirit of 
 compromise, which is essential to their co-operation. 
 It is not true that independent Legislatures cannot bo 
 so constituted or their limits of action so defined that 
 Ihey should work in harmony. The Colonial Legisla- 
 tures in the British empire are a striking proof to the 
 contrary, and the federal principle which has existed 
 for ages in the only flourishing European Republic, and 
 which has contributed so largely to the wellbeing of 
 the great Kepublic of the West, has of late years been 
 advancing with considerable strides through monarch- 
 ical Europe. At any period of the eighteenth century 
 
192 IIENllY GIJATTAN. 
 
 England might easily have bound the Irisli Legislature 
 to herself by ties of interest of overwhelming force; for 
 by the concession of free trade, and by throwing open to 
 Irishmen the great careers of colonial administration, 
 she could have made the connection a matter of vital 
 importance to Ireland. That it is possible for reckless 
 or ignorant agitators to disregard such considerations of 
 national interest is but too true ; but it is hardly pos- 
 sible that they could fail to exercise a restraining in- 
 fluence upon a Parliament, or a public opinion, which 
 was guided by the property and the intelligence of 
 the country. 
 
 But in truth the harmonious co-operation of Ireland 
 wdth England depends much less upon the framework 
 of the institutions of the former country than upon 
 the dispositions of its people and upon the classes who 
 guide its political life. With a warm and loyal attach- 
 ment to the connection pervading tlie nation, the 
 largest amount of self-government might be safely 
 conceded, and the most defective political arrange- 
 ments might prove innocuous. This is the true cement 
 of nations, and no change, however plausible in theory, 
 can be really advantageous which contributes to dimi- 
 nish it. Theorists may argue that it would be better 
 for Ireland to become in eveiy respect a mere province 
 of England ; they may contend that a union of Legis- 
 latures, accompanied by a corresponding fusion of 
 characters and identification of hopes, interests, and 
 desires, would strengthen the empire, but as a matter 
 of fact this was not what was effected in 1800. The 
 measure of Pitt centralised, but it did not unite, or 
 rather by uniting the Legislatures it divided the 
 nations. In a country where the sentiment of nation- 
 ality was as intense as. in any part of Europe, it de- 
 stroyed the national Legislature contrary to the 
 
THE UNION. 193 
 
 manifest wish of the people, and by means so corrupt, ( 
 treacherous, and shameful tliat they are never likely to \ 
 be forgotten. In a countiy wliere, owing to the religious 
 differences, it was peculiarly necessary that a vigorous 
 lay public opinion should be fostered to dilute or 
 restrain the sectarian spirit, it suppressed the centre 
 and organ of political life, directed the energies of the 
 community into the cliannels of sectarianism, drove its 
 humours inwards,^ and thus began a perversion of public 
 opinion which has almost destroyed the elements of 
 political progress. In a country where the people have 
 always been singularly destitute of self-reliance, and 
 at the same time eminently faithful to their leaders, it 
 withdrew the guidance of affairs from the hands of 
 the resident gentry, and, by breaking their power, pre- 
 pared the ascendency of the demagogue or the rebel. 
 In two plain ways it was dangerous to the connection • 
 it incalculably increased the aggregate disloyalty of 
 the people, and it destroyed the political supremacy of 
 the class that is most attached to the connection. The 
 Irish Parliament, with all its faults, was an eminently 
 loyal body. The Irish people through the eighteenth 
 century, in spite of great provocations, were on the 
 whole a loyal people till the recall of Lord Fitzwilliam, 
 and even then a few very moderate measures of reform 
 might have reclaimed them. Burke, in his ' Letters 
 on a Regicide Peace,' when reviewing the elements 
 of strength on which England could confide in her 
 struggle with revolutionary France, placed in the very 
 first rank the co-operation of Ireland. At the present 
 day it is to be feared that most impartial men would 
 
 • ' To give moderate liberty for griefs and discontentments to evapo- 
 rate ... is a safe way ; for he that turneth the humours back, and 
 niaketh llio M-ound bleed inwards, endangcrcth malign ulcers and per- 
 nicious impo&tliumations ' — Bacon, On Scdiiiuns. 
 
 10 
 
194 irENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 re^^^ard Ireland in the event of a great European war 
 rather as a source of weakness than of strength. More 
 than seventy years have passed since the boasted mea- 
 sure of Pitt, and it is unfortunately incontestable that 
 the lower orders in Ireland are as hostile to the system 
 of government under which they live as the Hungarian 
 people have ever been to Austrian or the Roman people 
 to Papal rule ; that Irish disloyalty is multiplying 
 enemies of England wherever the English tongue is 
 spoken ; and that the national sentiment runs so strongly 
 that multitudes of Irish Catholics look back w^ith deep 
 affection to the Irish Parliament, although no Catholic 
 could sit within its walls, and although it was only 
 during the last seven years of its independent existence 
 til at Catholics could vote for its members. Among the 
 opponents of the Union were many of the most loyal 
 as well as nearly all the ablest men in Ireland ; and 
 Lord Charlemont, who died shortly before the measure 
 was consummated, summed up the feelings of many in 
 the emphatic sentence witli which he protested against. 
 it. ' It would more than any other measure,' he said, 
 'contribute to the separation of two coimtries, the 
 perpetual connection of w^hich is one of the warmest 
 wishes of my heart.' 
 
 In fact the Union of 1800 was not only a great 
 crime, but was also, like most crimes, a great blunder. 
 The manner in which it w^as carried w^as not only 
 morally scandalous ; it also entirely vitiated it as -a 
 work of statesmanship. No great political measure 
 can be rationally judged merely upon its abstract 
 merits, and without considering the character and the 
 wishes of the people for whom it is intended. It is 
 now idle to discuss what might have been the effect of 
 a Union if it had been carried before 1782, when 
 the Parliament was still imemancipated ; if it had been 
 
THE UNION. 
 
 195 
 
 the result of a spontaneous movement of public opi- 
 nion ; if it had been accompanied by the emancipation 
 of the Catholics. Carried as it was prematurely, in 
 defiance of the national sentiment of the people and 
 of the protests of the unbribed talent of the country, 
 it has deranged the whole course of political develop- 
 ment, driven a large proportion of the people into 
 sullen disloyalty, and almost destroyed healthy public 
 opinion. In comparing the abundance of political 
 talent in Ireland during the last century with the 
 striking absence of it at present, something no doubt 
 may be attributed to the absence of protection for lite- 
 rary property in Ireland in the former period, which 
 may have directed an unusual proportion of the 
 national talent to politics, and something to the Colo- 
 nial and Indian careers which have of late years been 
 thrown open to competition ; but when alb due allow- 
 ance has been made for these, the contrast is sufficiently 
 impressive. Few impartial men can doubt that the 
 tone of political life and the standard of political talent 
 liave been lowered, while sectarian animosity has been 
 greatly increased, and the extent to which Fenian 
 principles have permeated the people is a melancholy 
 comment upon the prophecies that tlie Union would 
 put an end to disloyalty in Ireland. 
 
 While, however, the Irish policy of Pitt appears to 
 me to be both morally and politically deserving of 
 almost unmitigated condenmation, I cannot agree with 
 those who believe that the arrangement of 1782 could 
 have been permanent. The Irish Parliament would 
 doubtless have been in time reformed, but it would 
 have soon found its situation intolerable. Imperial 
 policy must necessarily have been settled by the 
 Imperial Parliament in which Ireland had no voice ; 
 and, unlike Canada or Australia, Ireland is profoundly 
 
lyU HENRY (in ATT AN. 
 
 iffected by every cliange of Imperial policy. Connec- 
 tion with England was of overwhelming importance 
 :o the lesser country, while the tie uniting them w^ould 
 lave been found degi-ading by one nation and incon- 
 ^^enient to the other. Under such circumstances ji 
 Union of some kind was inevitable. It was simply a 
 question of time, and it must some day have been 
 iemanded by Irish opinion. At the same time it would 
 lot, I think, have been such a Union as that of 1800. 
 riie conditions of Irish and English politics are so 
 3xtremely different, and the reasons for preserving in 
 Freland a local centre of political life are so pow^erful, 
 tliat it is probable a federal Union would have been 
 preferred. Under such a system the. Irish Parliament 
 would liave continued to exist, but would have been 
 restricted to purely local subjects, while an Imperial 
 Parliament, in which Irish representatives sat, would 
 have directed the policy of the empire. 
 
 It remains only to add a few words upon the manner 
 in which the Ministers observed their pledges to the 
 Catliolics. After the deadly injury which had been 
 done tliem by the recall of Lord Fitzwilliam, it might 
 have been supposed that a statesman of common up- 
 rightness would have been peculiarly anxious that they 
 should have no furtlier ground of complaint. Lord 
 Cornwallis and Lord Castlereagh, as the representatives 
 of the Grovernment, had purchased the support of the 
 leading Catholic prelates by a distinct intimation that 
 in their opinion the Union would be a prelude to eman- 
 cipation. Without giving any express promise whicli 
 could impede the Union negotiations, they had excited 
 their hopes by assuring them that the Ministers were 
 sincerely and unanimously in favour of the principle of 
 Emancipation, and on the faith of that assurance they 
 had solicited and obtained a most important service. 
 
TUE CATHOLIC QUESTION. 197 
 
 The great body of the Catholics had been induced to ^ 
 remain passive ; and if tlie Catholics had been in active 
 opposition, the Union, in the opinion of Lord Castle-J 
 reagh, could not have been carried. Whatever might be 
 the exact terms of the intimation made to the Catholic 
 leaders, no statesman with a high sense of honour could 
 question that the Cabinet were bound to do the very 
 utmost in their power to carry emancipation. It was an 
 obligation of honour of the plainest kind, and it was 
 also^'a matter of policy of the most vital importance. 
 The Union, carried as it was, outraged every patriotic 
 and national sentiment in the country ; and if it was 
 not to be a source of the most perennial bitterness, it 
 was absolutely necessary that it should be accompanied 
 or speedily followed by some great national boon, 
 which might at least make some class of Irishmen look 
 back on it with satisfaction. The Scotch Union had 
 thrown open to Scotchmen the whole trade with the 
 English Colonies in America, from which they had 
 before been excluded, but this trade had been thrown 
 open to Irishmen in 1779. Free trade between England 
 and Ireland was indeed established by the Union ; but 
 this advantage, though a very important one, was not 
 sufficiently great or sufficiently calculated to strike the 
 imagination to counteract its evil effects. Catholic 
 emancipation alone could have the required effect, and 
 on the conduct of the ISIinisters at this momentous 
 juncture it depended whether the Catholics were to be 
 permanently loyal. Duped and injured as they had 
 been in 1795, their loyalty was not likely to bear the 
 strain of a second disappointment. 
 
 It seemed at first as though tbe Government would 
 do everything that could be expected. In the first 
 King's Speech after the Union, the Sovereign was 
 made to describe it as the happiest event of his reign ; 
 
198 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 * being* persuaded,' as the Speech continued, ' that 
 nothing could so effectually contribute to extend to 
 my Irish subjects the full participation of the blessings 
 derived from the British constitution.' It is not very 
 clear what meaning these expressions conveyed to the 
 Sovereign who used them ; but the Catholic leaders 
 naturally read them in the light of the negotiations 
 that had taken place, and as naturally interpreted 
 them as a promise of emancipation. They assumed 
 that the Catholics, who constituted three-quarters of 
 the Irish people, were included under the denomina- 
 tion of ' Irish subjects,' and that the right of sitting in 
 Parliament was one of the blessings of the constitu- 
 tion. It soon, however, appeared that the King was 
 vehemently opposed to emancipation ; and the Chan- 
 cellor, Lord Loughborough, through selfish, and tlie 
 Primates of England and Ireland through ecclesiastical 
 motives, inflamed his opposition. While his Ministers 
 were bribing the Catliolics to acquiesce in the Union 
 by holding out to them the hope tliat it would secure 
 their emancipation, the King was basing his policy on 
 a directly opposite calculation. ' ]My inclination to 
 the Union with Ireland,' he wrote in February 1801, 
 ' was chiefly founded on a trust that the uniting of the 
 Established Churches of the two kingdoms would for 
 ever shut the door to any further measures with respect 
 to the Eoman Catholics.' The language w^hich had 
 been held to the Catholics, and in reliance on which 
 they had in general abstained from opposing the Union, 
 had been held without the knowledge of the King, and 
 without the smallest attempt having been made to learn 
 how far his antipathy might be surmounted. This was 
 in itself sufficiently culpable ; but after all that had been 
 said and done, it is at least plain that Pitt was under 
 the strongest moral obligation to do tlio utmost in liis 
 
THE CATHOLIC QUESTION. 199 
 
 power to cany the measure. The King talked of 
 abdicating if it were passed ; but even that alternative 
 should have been faced, thougli it should not be for- 
 gotten that the King was accustomed to use such 
 threats whenever he urgently desired to carry his point, 
 and that his language about the recognition of the 
 independence of America, and about th'e admission of 
 Fox into his Cabinet, was quite as strong as his lan- 
 guage about Catholic emancipation. It was an im- 
 perious obligation of national honour — it was a matter 
 of vital importance to the future prosperity of tlie 
 empire — that the Catholics should at this time have 
 been emancipated, and there is no reasonable doubt 
 that Pitt could have carried the measure had he deter- 
 mined it. 
 
 He did, it is true, resign office when the King re- 
 fused to consent to it ; but there has seldom been a 
 resignation which deserves less credit. The step was 
 evidently taken solely because it was impossible that 
 he could have acted otherwise with any decorum or 
 without a palpable loss of character, and because Lord 
 Grenville and some of his other colleagues had a 
 strong and honourabfe sense of their duty to the 
 Catholics. It is, however, quite plain that Pitt, 
 having obtained the service he required from the 
 Catholics, felt no real interest in their emancipation ; 
 that he was resolved to incur for their sakcs no diffi- 
 culty he could possibly avoid, and was ready, on the 
 first decent pretext, to sacrifice them. He had no 
 personal objection to Catholic emancipation; and ou 
 this, as on most other subjects, his views were large 
 and liberal ; but on this, as on most other questions, he 
 showed himself thoroughly selfish and dishonest, pre- 
 pared to saerificc any principle or any class rather than 
 imi^eril his power or weaken or divide his followers. 
 
200 HENRT GEATTAN. 
 
 He resigned office into the Lands of Addington, whom 
 he regarded as a mere creature of his own, and from 
 whom he imagined he might at any time resume 
 it. He resigned it at a moment which was peculiarly 
 convenient to him, because it had become necessary to 
 negotiate with Napoleon, and the antecedents of Pitt 
 rendered such a negotiation more difficult and humili- 
 ating for him than for any other English statesman.* 
 He resigned it with his usual ostentatious display of 
 public principle, because the King would not consent 
 to Catholic emancipation; but when the transfer of 
 office had been effected, and when tlie agitation pro- 
 duced by the transaction threw the King into one of 
 his many attacks of temporaiy insanity, Pitt imme- 
 diately availed himself of tlie opportunity to extricate 
 liimself from a political embarrassment by fmally 
 abandoning the Catholics. That his position, in con- 
 sequence of the King's attack, w^as a delicate one, 
 may be readily admitted; but there was a question 
 of honour and a question of national policy wdiich 
 should have overridden all other considerations ; and 
 he would have deserved more credit for his delicacy 
 if it had not coincided so perfectly with his in- 
 terest, and if it had not involved him in what may 
 be not unfairly called a gross breach of faith with 
 :he Catholics. And, in fact, tlie utmost the most 
 
 ^ I have no doubt that the Catholic question was the real as ■well as 
 Uie ostensible cause of the resignation, but the consideration in the text 
 fas an obvious one, and it greatly mitigated the sacrifice. Dundas said 
 t>f Addington, • If these new Ministers ttay in and make peace, it will 
 only smooth matters the more for us aftenvards ;' and Lord Malmcsburj , 
 who records this saying in his Diary, mentions the impression that * Pitt 
 19 inclined to lot this Ministry remain in office long enough to make 
 peace, and then turn them out.' — See Campbell's ' Chancellors,' viii. 
 pp. 190, 191 ; and a remarkable letter by Dean Milman in Lewis's 
 •Administrations of Great Britain,' p. 270. 
 
THE CATHOLIC QUESTION. 201 
 
 sensitive delicacy required was that he should have 
 abstained at the'time of the King's illness from press- 
 incr the question. But this was not the course which 
 he adopted. Ostensibly through attachment to the 
 cause of Catholic emancipation, he resigned his office 
 into the hands of a violent anti-Catholic states- 
 man, who, as we now know, assumed it at his express 
 desire. Only three weeks later, when the King had 
 recovered, when Addington had formed his INIinistry 
 without difficulty, and when all was proceeding 
 smoothly, he volunteered the announcement to the 
 King that he would never during the King's life bring 
 forw'ard the Catliolic question ; and he desired by this 
 means, if the King or Addington would take the first 
 step, to return to power. This was the end of the 
 'unalterable sense of public duty' which had led 
 him, as he declared three weeks before, to resign office 
 because he was not allowed to bring in the Catholic 
 question witli his Majesty's ' full concurrence, and 
 with tlie whole weight of Government.' This was 
 tlie end of all the hopes by which Castlereagh had 
 lulled to sleep the Catholic opposition to the Union. 
 Addington, it is true, refused to be treated as a mere 
 puppe?, and to resign the dignity he had just been 
 entreated to assume; but the treachery of Pitt was 
 only postponed. He soon became Minister again, and 
 he resumed the reins of power on the understanding 
 that he would not only not bring in Catholic emanci- 
 pation during the King's lifetime, but that he would 
 also not suffer it to be carried. As for the payment 
 of the priests, wliich was another important part of the 
 Union scheme, he never appears to liave taken any 
 real trouble on tlie subject. 
 
 In the meantime, great apprehension was felt about 
 the attitude of t]ie Irish Catholics. Except during the 
 
202 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 brief interval of tranquillity which followed the peace 
 of Amiens, England was engaged in the most desperate 
 struggle wdth France, and Catholic disloyalty appeared 
 proportionately terrible. Immediately upon the re- 
 signation of Pitt, and the installation of a new and 
 anti-Catholic ^Ministry, the Lord-Lieutenant, Lord 
 Cornwallis, drew up a paper, ^vhich he privately cir- 
 culated among the Catholic leaders, in which he 
 earnestly exhorted them to patience under their dis- 
 appointment, warned them against Jacobinical asso- 
 ciations, and expatiated upon the great advantage 
 their cause had gained in so many eminent statesmen 
 being pledged not to take office wdthout carrying it. 
 This paper was unofficial, but, emanating as it did 
 from the Lord-Lieutenant, it had naturally great 
 w^eight. It proved how^ever to be but one more added 
 to the many deceptions tlie Irisli Catholics experienced. 
 Lord Cornwallis, who immediately after resigned his 
 office, subsequently admitted that he had no authority 
 for the statement tliat the retiring Ministers were 
 pledged to abstain from office till they could carry 
 Catholic emancipation. He had merely drawn an 
 inference — though it must be admitted a very natural 
 inference — from the situation. Whatever may liavc 
 been the opinion of others, he at least believed that 
 the communications he liad made to the Catholic 
 leaders amounted to a moral pledge. When Pitt, three 
 wTcks after liis resignation, offered to abandon the 
 Catholics, lie made none of his colleagues liis con- 
 fidants except Dundas, who was notorious among 
 politicians for his lax sense of liouour; but on liis 
 return to office, the attitude he resolved to assume 
 towards them became manifest. They acted witJi the 
 most signal moderation. Tliey would at this time 
 have gladly accepted emancipation accompanied by 
 
THE CATHOLIC QUESTION. 203 
 
 those safeguards which a few years later they so scorn- 
 fully rejected. They abstained, not only from all 
 disloyal associations, but even from all political agita- 
 tion that miglit embarrass the Government ; and it 
 vvas only in 1805 that their leaders brought over to 
 London a jxitition for emancipation, whicli tliey asked 
 Pitt, who was then in power, to present and to sup- 
 port. He not only refused to do so, but even declared 
 that he would oppose it ; and, after a brilliant debate, 
 the Catholics were defeated by an overwhelming 
 majority through his influence. Can it be wondered 
 that O'Connell found them apt scholars wlien he taught 
 them to exchange a policy of moderation for one of 
 violent agitation ? 
 
 Grattan, in one of liis speeches, described a portion 
 of the English policy towards Ireland with character- 
 istic energy, as one 'than which you would hardly- 
 find a worse if you went to hell for your principles, and/ 
 to Bedlam for your discretion.' I shall content myself 
 with saying that we sliould liave heard few eulogies of 
 the honourable character of the Irish policy of Pitt if 
 l^nglish writers were not accustomed to judge Irisli 
 politics by a standard of lionour very different from 
 tliat which they would apply to English ones. How 
 liis desertion of the Catholics was regarded by the most 
 upright of his opponents is abundantly shown in the 
 private letters of Fox and of Grey ; and the subse- 
 quent career of O'Connell is a sufficient comment upon 
 the wisdom of his proceedings. It has been main- 
 tained, however, by some writers, who would probably 
 have admitted that in these negotiations the part 
 played by Pitt was very culpable, that the original 
 scheme of the Union was at least an extraordinary in- 
 stance of political genius. Lord IMacaulay, who has 
 probably done more than any other writer to accredit 
 
204 IIEKRY GRATTAN. 
 
 tliis opinion, Las described the project of comLining 
 in a single measure the legislative Union of the two 
 countries, the emancipation of the Catholics, and the 
 payment of their priests, as ' a scheme of policy so 
 grand and so simple, so righteous and so humane, that it 
 would alone entitle him to a high place among states- 
 men.' I venture to think that this judgment is en- 
 tirely erroneous. The project of a Union, and the 
 project of settling the Catholic question by admitting 
 Catholics to Parliament, and by paying their priests, 
 were no novelties. They had for years been common- 
 place subjects of discussion in political circles ; and 
 one of the standard arguments against emancipating 
 the Catholics had been that it would be dangerous to 
 give them such power in a local Parliament. The ex- 
 pediency of combining the two projects was perfectly 
 obvious. The idea was so self-evident that it must 
 have been suggested at a hundred dinner-tables, and it 
 is hardly conceivable that it should not have occurred 
 to any statesman who approved of both measures, and 
 who was seeking to make tlie first popular in Ireland. 
 The Union was emphatically one of that class of mea- 
 sures in which the scope for statesmanship lies not in 
 the conception but in the execution. Had Pitt carried 
 it Vvithout offending the national sentiment — had he 
 enabled the majority of the Irish people to look back 
 on it with affection or with pride — had he made it the 
 means of allaying discontent or promoting loyalty — 
 he would indeed have achieved a feat of consummate 
 statesmanship. But in all these respects he utterly 
 failed. There was, it is true, no small amount of dex- 
 terity of a somewhat vidpine order displayed in carry- 
 ins: the Bill : but no measure ever show^ed less of that 
 enlightened and far-seeing statesmanship which respects 
 the prejudices and conciliates the aflcctions of a nation. 
 
ENTERS THE ENGLISH PARLIAMENT. 205 
 
 Rnd thus eradicates the seeds of disaffection and dis- 
 content. 
 
 When the Union was passed, Grattan for a time re- 
 tired from politics. His health had been for some 
 time unsatisfactory, and his spirits were greatly de- 
 pressed by a defeat which he regarded as the destruc- 
 tion of the liberties of his country. Hq saw in it the 
 overthrow of the entire labour of his life, and it un- 
 folded to his piercing eye a long vista of agitation, of 
 disloyalty, and disaster. For some time he could not 
 bear to hear it discussed in conversation ; his eyes often 
 lilled with tears when speaking of it, and even many 
 years afterwards he occasionally broke into paroxysms 
 of indignation on the subject, that contrasted strangely 
 with hfs usual gentleness.^ The people, who had been 
 paralysed by the late Rebellion, remained in a state of 
 stupefied and sullen quiescence. Emmett's rebellion, 
 Avhich took place in 1803, cannot be regarded as in any 
 degree the consequence of the Union. It was but the 
 List wave of the Rebellion of 1798, and originated in 
 tlic overheated brain of an amiable and gifted, but 
 most unpractical, enthusiast. One great cause, how- 
 ever, still remained, and to the service of Catholics 
 Grattan resolved to devote liis remaining years. He 
 entered the Britisli Parliament in 1805, and took his 
 seat modestly on one of tlie back benches ; but Fox, 
 exclaiming ' This is no place for the Irish Demosthenes !' 
 drew him forward, and placed him near himself. Great 
 
 > He believed that the Union, jimong other effects, would have that of 
 preatly lowering the character of the Irish representatives, and he ex- 
 pr.-ssed his opinion with his usual odd emphatic exaggeration. '\ou 
 have swept away our constitution,' ho once said to some English 
 gcntUrnen ; ' von have destroyed our rnrliament, hut we shall have our 
 revenge W will send into the ranks of //our Parliament, and into the 
 very lieart of your constitution, a hundred of the greatest scoundrels m 
 the kingdom ! ' 
 
206 IIENKY G RATTAN. 
 
 doubts were felt about his success. The difference of the 
 tone and habits of the two Parliaments, the advanced 
 ao-e of Grattan, the recent failure of Flood, and the 
 cause Grattan had assigned for that failure,^ suggested 
 weighty reason for fear. Much anxiety, therefore, and 
 much curiosity, were felt when he rose to speak on that 
 memomble night when the Catholic question was re- 
 opened. For a moment, it is said, the strangeness of 
 his gestures, and the apparent difficulty of his enun- 
 ciation, served to confirm those fears ; but it was but 
 for a moment, ^fter almost the first passage he was 
 listened to with an intense and ever-increasing admi- 
 ration, and when he sat down it was felt that he had 
 more than justified his reputation. It was, indeed, one 
 of the very greatest speeches he ever delivered. It 
 would be difficult to point out any other that displayed 
 a more wonderful combination of powerful reasoning, 
 epigram, imagination, and declamation. Pitt, who 
 made the first motion of applause, exclaimed, 'Burke 
 told me that Grattan was a wonderful man for a popular 
 audience, and I see that he was right.' Fox, in a pri- 
 vate letter to Trotter, said, ' I am sure it will give you 
 pleasure to liear that Grattan's success in the House of 
 Commons was complete, and acknowledged even by 
 those who had entertained great hopes of his failure/ 
 The ' Annual Register ' called the speech ' one of the 
 most brilliant and eloquent ever pronounced within 
 the walls of Parliament.' It was in the course of this 
 speech that, in adverting to the first Catholic Relief 
 Bill, he digressed into an eulogium of the Irish Parlia- 
 ment ; and, speaking of the services he had rendered 
 to its freedom, uttered that sentence so famous for its 
 
 * ' lie was an oak of the foi-est too old and too great tu be trans;plaiitod 
 nt fifty; 
 
heligiods opisioxs of the cocntkt. 207 
 
 louohing and concentrated beauty : ' I watched by its 
 cradle, I followed its hearse.' 
 
 The Union, by making the public opinion of Eng 
 land the arbiter of the Catholic question, had entirely 
 altered its conditions; and, as I have already endea- 
 voured to show, had considerably increased its difficul- 
 ties. Public opinion had .also about this period taken 
 a direction strongly adverse to emancipation. The 
 Tory reaction which followed the Revolution was still 
 in full force, and a religious movement had been for 
 some time fermenting in England, which had m a 
 oreat measure dispelled the indifference on doctrinal 
 questions that had long been prevalent, and had greatly 
 intensified the Protestant feeling among the peop e. 
 
 It will be sufBciently evident to anyone who follows 
 the history of the two Churches that their separation 
 had reached its extreme limit when the Puritans were 
 dominant in England and Bossuet was ruling public 
 opinion in France. The Puritans represented 1 rotes- 
 tantism in its most exaggerated and undiluted form; 
 while Bossuet, who exercised a greaU^r influence over 
 the lay mind than perhaps any theologian since Calvin, 
 was maintaining the tenets of his Church with the most 
 unfln-ing zeal. He was indeed so far from adopting 
 •uiv extreme or Ultramontane opinions that he even en- 
 tered into a correspondence ^«th Leibnitz on the possi- 
 bilitvof a compromise; but he asserted most empha- 
 tically the great distinctive principle of authority; he 
 defined the points of diUerence with such a rigid accu- 
 racy that no evasion was possible ; and he laid a gi-eatei 
 stress upon dogmas as distinguished from morals tlmn 
 nerhaps'any other popular writer of his Church. After 
 this period, for about a century, the two systems seemed 
 rapidly approximating. If we compare the sermons of 
 MassiUon with th.se of Bossuet we see the change m 
 
B08 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 its commencement ; if we compare the sermons of Blair 
 or of Kirwan with those of the early Anglican divines, 
 we see it in its completion. Dogma had formerly 
 almost superseded practical teaching, but it now in its 
 turn gave way. The Christian preacher became at last 
 simply an expounder of morals. A well-regulated dis- 
 position, a virtuous life, and an active benevolence, 
 were represented as almost a summary of Christianity. 
 The Bible was regarded as a repository of noble maxims 
 and of instructive examples. The triumph of religion 
 would be merely tlie perfection of order, the apotheosis 
 and the completion of government. This tendency may 
 be in part ascribed to the natural reaction and fatigue 
 that followed the fierce controversies of the preceding 
 century ; and it was also in a great measure due to the 
 prevalence of scepticism in both Churches. In England 
 sceptical opinions had been maintained openly by Bo- 
 lingbroke, and Gibbon, and Hume ; and if the whole 
 light literature at tlie close of the last century was not 
 Voltairian in its spirit, it was probably owing in a 
 great measure to the extraordinary influence of Dr. 
 Johnson. In France no such restraint existed. Voltaire 
 and Ivousseau towered far above tlieir contemporaries, 
 and never disguised their sentiments. The sarcasms of 
 Voltaire turned the whole stream of ridicule and wit 
 against the Church ; while the burning eloquence, the 
 impassioned earnestness, and the intense realising 
 powers of Eousseau, fell witli terrific effect on its tot- 
 tering system. Tlie University of Paris issued an 
 answer to the ' Vicar of Savoy,' but it is now almost 
 forgotten. All the real talent of the country seemed 
 ranged against the established faith, and its defenders 
 were compelled to adopt an apologetical and an evasive 
 tone. It was quite true that all infants who died un- 
 baptised were excluded from heaven, but then hell was 
 
MOVEMENTS OF TnEOLOGY. 209 
 
 an indefinite expression, and comprised a variety of 
 conditions, and St. Augustine was not prepared to say 
 that it would be better for those children had they 
 never been born. Purgatory was undoubtedly a Ca- 
 tholic doctrine, but it was not necessarily the place of 
 torment by fire which was portrayed in the pictures in 
 every church. Though the priests had at one time 
 celebrated almost every royal marriage in Spain by an 
 auto-da-fe, and though a Pope had struck medals in 
 commemoration of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
 yet the spirit of Torquemada and of Catherine de' Me- 
 dicis might be safely reprehended by the orthodox. 
 The doctrine of invincible ignorance was brought pro- 
 minently forward. The doctrine of infallibility was 
 interpreted in its broadest sense, and the attribute was 
 applied not to an individual, but to the whole Churcli. 
 Above all, the purity of the moral teaching of Chris- 
 tianity was asserted and displayed, while its special 
 doctrines were allowed to fall into the background. In 
 this manner the two religions began rapidly to as- 
 similate, when the tide again tm*ned, and a violent 
 revulsion set in. In Roman Catholic countries Ultra- 
 montanism once more became dominant after the Ive- 
 volution, but it purchased its triumph dearly. Tlic 
 priests taught the most extreme Eoman Catholic doc- 
 trines, while the educated laity remained disciples of 
 Montaigne, if not of Voltaire. In England the Me- 
 thodists had begun their labours ; and, after many 
 years of comparatively unnoticed preaching among the 
 poor, their principles began to leaven the higher ranks, 
 and to embody themselves in the great Evangelical 
 party. 
 
 The Ultramontane and tlie Evangelical movements 
 completely altered the attitude of the two religions 
 botli towards scepticism and towards each other. 
 
210 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 Voltaire had maintained in France that the doctrines 
 of the Church were contrary to reason and to the moral 
 sense ; and Ultramontanism answered that these were 
 absolutely incompetent to judge them. Bolingbroke 
 had argued in England that the moral teaching ot 
 Christianity existed in the works of the pagan philo- 
 sophers ; and the Evangelical replied that a moral 
 system had no efficacy as a means of salvation, and was 
 only enforced in the New Testament as a secondary 
 and subordinate object. The two sections of Chris- 
 tianity had been approximating, on the ground of 
 common duties ; and the Evangelical taught that man 
 could not perform duties acceptably, and that the 
 whole scope and purport of Christianity was to teach a 
 doctrine wliich the Church of Eome refused to admit. 
 Against this Church, then, as tlie most powerful, the 
 most subtle, and the most specious opponent of trutli, 
 all the energies of the Evangelicals were directed. 
 They traced its lineaments in every intimHtion of 
 coming apostacy contained in tlie prophetic writings. 
 They recognised it as the horn of Daniel ' speaking 
 proud things ' — as the mystic Babylon, red with the 
 blood of the saints — as the jMan of Sin, who Avas to be 
 revealed when the Roman empire was removed — as 
 the spirit of Antichrist, that was to seduce and to 
 triumph in the latter days. They revived the histo- 
 ries of bygone persecutions that transcended the worst 
 efiforts of paganism, and laboured with the same un- 
 tiring assiduity in the pulpit and on the hustings, in 
 the religious tale and the newspaper article, to repress 
 and to crush the Church they feared. 
 
 The Evano-elical movement was somev;hat slow in 
 spreading to Ireland, and during the greater part of 
 the viditecntli century tlie Irish Protestant clergy 
 
PROTESTANT TOLERANCE. 211 
 
 were in general far from bigots. The theological tem- 
 perature, as I have said, was very moderate, and the 
 habit, which the penal laws produced, of ostensibly 
 passing from one religion to the other in order to join 
 a profession or preserve a property, contributed to 
 lower it. In 1745, it is true, under the fear of an 
 impending invasion, a kind of panic of intolerance 
 passed through the clergy, and they were mischievously 
 active in denouncing the Catholics, but for the most 
 part they were very harmless men, who discharged social 
 and philanthropic functions of unquestionable utility, 
 meddled little with dogmatic theology, and seldom 
 interfered with their Catholic neighbours. The tithe 
 riots of the eighteenth century had little or no con- 
 nection with religious animosity, and the Protestant 
 landlords were almost as hostile to the tithes as their 
 tenants. In 1725, when the penal laws were at their 
 height, a Protestant clergyman named Syngc, in a 
 very remarkable sermon preached before the Irish 
 House of Commons, and published by its order, urged 
 the duty of granting perfect toleration to the Catholics. 
 Ten years later the illustrious Bishop Berkeley, in his 
 ' Querist,' advocated their admission into Dublin Uni- 
 ve'rsity, and their exemption from the obligation of 
 attending chapel or divinity lectures— a policy which 
 was carri'^ed out in Ireland near the end of the century. 
 The fVimous Bishop of Derry was one of the most 
 imcompromising supporters of the Catholic claims. 
 He was, no doubt, too violent and eccentric to be taken 
 us a fair specimen of his order, but the great Relief Bill 
 of 1793, ^^liic^ S^^'^ ^^^^ Catholics the suffrage, was 
 wumlv supported by several bishops, and acquiesced 
 in bv\he majority of the clergy; and it produced 
 UMlhin-- of that frantic intolerance whicl), both among 
 
212 HENRY GRATTAN. 
 
 the English and Irish clergy, was aroused by the much 
 less important measure of 1829.* Dublin University 
 has always been looked upon as a stronghold of Irish 
 Protestanism, but it was by many years the first univer- 
 sity in the kingdom to throw open its degrees to 
 Catholics, and even in the years that followed the Union 
 it was represented by Plunket, at a time when that 
 great orator was leading the Catholic cause. 
 
 It would be, I conceive, a mistake to attribute the 
 tolerance of the Irish Protestants towards the close of 
 the eighteen til century to the prevalence of conscious 
 scepticism. Avowed and reasoned free thought has 
 never been very common in Ireland,^ and the Irish 
 literature towards the end of the last century and the 
 beginning of tlie present is full of the usual denun- 
 ciations of scepticism, and the usual depreciation of 
 
 ' A contemporary Irish liistorian tlius describes tho attitude of the 
 clergy on this occasion : '"What a picture of liberality and moderation 
 did tho conduct of the Established clergy of Ireland exhibit during tlio 
 recent application for Catliolie emancipation ! Many pious and learned 
 prelates exerted their eloquence in Parliament in support of Catho- 
 licity ; and the entire body of the Protestant clergy, in tlieir conduct on 
 this occasion, have fully affirmed themselves the disciples of tlie meek, 
 mild, and gentle Author of Christianity.' — MnUalcCs Irish Affairs (1705), 
 vol. ii. p. 260. 
 
 = Primate Boulter complained bitterly of 'the growtli of atheism, 
 profanity, and immorality' in Ireland, but it seems to liave sliown itself 
 rhiefly in resistance to tithes. Tuland vas an Irishman, but lived in 
 England, and when he went to Ireland ho was denounced from the 
 pulpit, and such an outcry was raised that it became dangerous to speak 
 to him, and ho could hardly procure tho necessaries of life. He appears 
 liowever to have been guilty of much imprudence in prop;igating his 
 views. Parliament ordered his ' Christianity not Mysteriuus ' to be 
 burnt, and the author to be arrested, and he only escaped by precipitate 
 flight. Molyneux has described the transaction in letters to Locke, 
 and South wrote in great glee to tho Archbishop of Dublin: 'Your 
 Parliament presently sent him packing, and without the help of a faggot 
 Boon made the kingdom too hot for him.' — Disrac'is Calainitks of 
 Authors, vol. ii. p. lo3. 
 
rnOTESTANT TOLERANCE. 213 
 
 sceptical writers.' At the same time tlie t3^pe of pre- 
 vailinjr Protestantism, like tliat of the prevailing 
 Catholicism, was singularly colourless and undogmatic. 
 I have already quoted some sentences from the speeches 
 of Grattan, describing the gradual assimilation of the 
 two creeds, and I may add that no one appears to have 
 been scandalised by the somewhat startling summary 
 of ecclesiastical history which the same speaker threw 
 out in one of his greatest orations : ' The only Divine 
 institution we know of — the Christian religion — did so 
 corrupt as to have become an abomination, and was 
 rescued by Act of Parliament.' In an age when 
 sectarian virulence has obtained a gi'eat empire over 
 the minds of men, it seldom fails to reflect itself in the 
 hallucinations of speculators in unfulfilled prophecy ; 
 but, as we have already seen, Mr. Dobbs, who was the 
 most enthusiastic Irish labourer in this field, was a 
 warm advocate of tlie Catholic claims. By far the 
 most eminent man in the Protestant Church at the 
 end of the last cent\iry was Dean Kirwan, who, if 
 estimated by the power he exercised over the feelings 
 of his auditors, by the beneficence he evoked, and by 
 the judgments of his contemporaries, at a time when 
 the standard of eloquence was extremely high, must be 
 placed as a pulpit orator almost on a level with White- 
 field. This very remarkable man had been originally 
 a Catholic, and one of the reasons he alleged for joining 
 tlic Established Church was, that he should thus obtain 
 more extensive opportunities of doing good. He rigidly 
 
 ^ E.g. ' The writings of Ilumo anrl Gibbon, which have been directly 
 or inilin^tly levelled against the Christian religion, have long sinco 
 punk into merited oblivion.' — MuUala's View of Irish Affairs from the 
 Jtcvolution (1795), vol. ii. p. 280. ' Surely ix Voltaire, a Kousscau, or a 
 Gibbon were as inferior to Colin Maclaurin in mental power as they 
 were in bo<lily strength to Hercules or Sampson.'— TP^/an's Historjf of 
 Ute Effects of Religion (1S02), p. 421. 
 
214 HENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 abstained in all liis sermons from every topic relating 
 to the differences between the two Churches, making it, 
 as he said, his main object 'to banish religious pre- 
 judices, to diffuse through society the great blessings 
 of peace, order, and mutual affection, and to represent 
 Christianity as a practical institution of religion de- 
 signed to regulate the dispositions and improve the 
 characters of men ; ' and he at last devoted his talents 
 entirely to pleading the cause of charitable institutions. 
 
 A society could not have been very bigoted when it 
 most popular preacher adopted such a tone. Kirw\nn 
 though a man of spotless reputation and splendid genius, 
 never obtained any more lucrative preferment than a 
 deanery of 400^ a year, and was able to leave no fortune 
 to his children ; but something of his spirit was shown 
 among his more fortunate brethren. Law, the Bishop 
 of Elphin, was accustomed to distribute among his 
 Catholic parisliioners the best books of their own authors, 
 saying that, as ho could not make tliem good Protes- 
 tants, he at least wished them to be good IJoman 
 Catholics. 
 
 I have dwelt at some length upon these facts, for 
 th(^y are not much known in England, and they have a 
 considerable importance in thehistory of public opinion 
 in Ireland. And, indeed, the amount of intolerance 
 tliat formerly existed in both religions has been not a 
 little exaggerated; for atrocities wliich were really due 
 to an liostility of races have been ascribed to the 
 conflict of their religions. The Irish have not generally 
 been an intolerant or persecuting people. The early 
 history of the introduction of Christianity into Ireland, 
 though not, as has been said, absolutely bloodless,^ was 
 at least imusually pacific, and it was an old reproach 
 against Irishmen, that tlieir country, which had pro- 
 ' There is a discussion en tl.is . oint in Todd's 'Life of St. Patrick.' 
 
HETIYAL OF SECTARIANISM. 215 
 
 diiced innumera]>le saints, had produced no martyr. 
 Dui'ing the atrocious persecutions of Mary, the English 
 Protestants were perfectly unmolested in Ireland. The 
 massacre of Protestants in 1642 was so little due to 
 religious causes that the only Englishman of eminence 
 who was treated by the rebels with reverence and 
 care was Bisliop Bedell, who was one of the most 
 energetic Protestants of his age, and the first Irish 
 bishop who attempted to proselytise among the Ca- 
 tholics. The Irish people have always been more 
 superstitious than the English, and perhaps than the 
 Scotcli, but their superstitions liave usually taken a 
 milder form. Many liundreds of unhappy women 
 have perished on the cliarge of witchcraft lx)th in 
 England and Scotland since tlie Reformation, but I 
 am not aware of the witch mania having ever raged 
 in Ireland to a degree at all comparable to that in 
 England under James I. and the Puritans, and in Scot- 
 land during a great part of the seventeenth century.' 
 Whatever animosity the penal laws produced had in 
 a great measure subsided towards the end of the 
 eighteenth century, and it would be difficult to find in 
 any country more moderate or liberal members of their 
 respective faiths than Kirwan, the greatest preacher 
 among the Irish Protestants, and O'Leary, the greatest 
 writer among the Irish Catholics. 
 
 The elements of religious animosity, however, though 
 they were almost dormant, existed in abundance, and 
 several causes concurred, with the rise of the Evangelical 
 
 ' A famoiis Irish uitch case — that of Dame Alice Kytelor, in 1324 — 
 lias been reprinted by the Camden Society, and a few \inimportant 
 later ones are given by Glanvil in his ' Sadducismus Triumphatus. 
 Hutchinson, "Wright, and Madden appear to liavo found no other Irish 
 cases. It is much to be wished that some Irish arclueologioal sociiify 
 would investigate more fully than (as far as I am aware) lias yet boon 
 done th.e historv of Irisli witchcraft. 
 
216 HENHY GllATTAN. 
 
 movement, in resuscitating them. The many outbursts 
 of lawless violence that convulsed the country froni 
 the middle of the century had been for a long time 
 entirely unconnected with religion. Rack-rents, the 
 fiscal pressure of tithes, the invasions of common land 
 by the landlords, tlie law which compelled workmen to 
 devote a certain amount of unpaid labour to repairing 
 the county roads, were the causes or pretexts of the 
 appearance of the \Vliiteboys, the Oakboys, and the 
 Hearts of Steel. In 1785, however, a new type of 
 disturbance began. Protestants in the county Armagh, 
 and afterwards in other districts, began to form bands 
 under the name of Peep-of-Day Boys, and to attack 
 and persecute the Catholics, wlio then formed societies 
 called ' Defenders,' which were at first a kind of 
 irregular police, and soon after became bands of de- 
 predators. The Relief Bill of 1793, conferring votes 
 upon the Catholicr., produced some slight economical 
 disturbance ; for landlords, who had especially favoured 
 Protestant tenants on account of the political influence 
 they could give, now freely admitted the competition 
 of Catholics. It was not, however, till the furious 
 passions aroused by tlie recall of Lord Fitzwilliam had 
 broken .out that religious animosity became intense. 
 In 1795 the Orangemen came into existence, and 
 signalised themselves by spreading riot over a great 
 part of the north of Ireland. The battle of the 
 Diamond, in which they defeated a large body of 
 Catholics, and in which forty-eight men were killed, 
 took place in the December of this year, and, being 
 sedulously commemorated by the Orangemen, it pro- 
 duced an intense and an enduring animosity. Many 
 Catholics were compelled to emigrate from the county 
 Armagh, and take refuge in Connaught. As the 
 Rebellion became imminent, the violence of sectarian 
 
DR. DUIGENAN. 217 
 
 feeling lose to the highest point, and all who tried 
 to allay it were looked upon with suspicion. The 
 name of Grattan was struck off the Privy Council, and 
 the Dublin University authorities removed his picture 
 from their hall, and replaced it by that of Clare. 
 When the Eebellion actually broke out, it aroused 
 all the worst and fiercest passions of the nation. Wesley 
 had before this turned aside from his religious labours 
 to write against the removal of the penal laws. In tho 
 Irish Grovernment, Lord Clare was fiercely anti-Catholic, 
 and similar sentiments were energetically maintained 
 in the Irish and aftei-wards in the English House of 
 Commons by the notorious Dr. Duigenan. 
 
 This very singular personage is said to liave been 
 himself originally a Roman Catholic. He was a man 
 of low extraction, but of some talents, and had been a 
 Fellow of Trinity College, where he wrote a book 
 against the provost, Hely Hutchinson. He obtained a 
 seat in the Irish House of Commons, and laboured 
 witliout success to procure the cessation of the May- 
 nooth gmnt which had been made during the ad- 
 ministration of Lord Fitzwilliam. He was one of the 
 warmest supporters of the Union, and in the English 
 Parliament the most vituperative and indefatigable 
 opponent of the Catholic claims. He adopted that 
 method which is still employed by some politicians, of 
 exhuming all the immoral sentiments of the school- 
 men, the Jesuit casuists, and the mediaeval councils, 
 and parading them continually before the Parliament 
 and before the country.^ Against this system Grattan 
 energetically protested. ' No religion,' he said in one 
 
 » It is ciirious that he -vras married to a Roman Catholic ; he pro- 
 posed to ber and -was refused when young, but was accepted many years 
 after, when she -was a ■widow. In spite, however, or perhaps in conse- 
 quence of matrimony, his antipathy to the Church of Rome continuo4 
 unabated to the end. 
 
 11 
 
218 UENRT G RATTAN. 
 
 of his speeches, ' can stand if men, without regard to 
 their God, and with regard only to controversy, shall 
 rake out of the rubbish of antiquity the obsolete and 
 quaint follies of the sectarians, and affront the majesty 
 of the Almighty with the impudent catalogue of their 
 devices ; and it is a strong argument against the pro- 
 scriptive system that it helps to continue this shocking 
 contest ; theologian against theologian, polemic against 
 polemic, until the two madmen defame their common 
 parent, and expose their common religion.' 
 
 Every year the state of feeling in Ireland became 
 worse. As is always the case, the destruction of national 
 feeling gave an increased bitterness to sectarian con 
 troversy, and turned almost all the energies of the 
 country into that channel. The Eoman Catholics, 
 who had formerly been almost passive, began to agitate 
 vehemently, and to complain bitterly that Pitt opposed 
 their emancipation, tliough he had formerly professed 
 himself favourable to it. The Evangelical movement 
 in Ireland had chiefly assumed an aggressive character, 
 and the effects of the Eebellion of '98 had not yet 
 subsided. A few years after the Union there were no 
 less than five distinct parties agitating actively: the 
 French party, who cherished the traditions of '98 ; 
 the armed Orangemen, who were pillaging in the 
 county Armagh ; the more pacific Tories, who were 
 arguing against emancipation ; the moderate Liberals, 
 who followed Grattan, and comprised a large sec- 
 tion of the Protestants, and almost all the higher 
 orders of Eoman Catholics ; and the clerical and de- 
 mocratic party, which was beginning to rise under tlie 
 inspiration of O'Connell. AN^hen we add to this that 
 the English public was becoming thoroughly per- 
 meated by the Evangelical movement, the difficulty of 
 Grattan's position becomes very apparent. 
 
THE VETO. 219 
 
 He determined to keep liimself entirely independent. 
 He refused office in Fox's Ministry, which came in in 
 1806, and he refused to accept 4000^. which the Roman 
 Catliolics subscribed in the same year to defray the 
 expenses of his election for Dublin. He kept up a 
 correspondence with every section of the Constitutional 
 Liberals, but he would not place himself in the hands 
 of any. In 1807 he incurred much unpopularity by 
 supporting the Government Coercion Bill, which he 
 believed to be necessary on account of the disorganised 
 condition of the country.* In 1808 he entered into 
 the Veto question. This proposition, which at one time 
 created so much agitation, was an attempt to produce 
 a compromise ; the English Parliament consenting to 
 emancipate the Catholics, on the condition that a 
 power of veto was reserved to the English Sovereign 
 in the election of Catholic bishops. The proposal was 
 then much discussed and warmly accepted by the whole 
 body of Koman Catholics of England, by the upper 
 order of tliose of Ireland, and by Grattan himself. The 
 Court of Eome was very conciliatory, and the Irish 
 bishops in 1808, by tlie agency of Dr. jNIilncr, declared 
 tlieir willingness to accept it; but they soon yielded 
 to the popular outcry and to the influence of O'Connell, 
 and under the leadership of the same prelate vehemently 
 opposed it. This produced a complete schism between 
 the gentry and the clergy, and undoubtedly retarded 
 the triumph of the cause. In 1813 a Bill, accom- 
 panied by the veto and some minor securities, actually 
 passed a second reading, and was finally rejected by 
 a majority of only four, but the bishops aftei-wards 
 
 ' lie said lie hoped to secure to Ireland a ' revprsionary interest in the 
 constitvition.' lie adopted a similar course in 1814. The perfect courage 
 witli which Grattan always risked his popularity for what ho thought 
 the interest of his country is one of the finest traits of his character. 
 
220 nENRY G RATTAN. 
 
 denounced it. In the following year the Catholic Board, 
 at the suggestion of O'Connell, called upon Grattan 
 to place himself under their direction, and upon his 
 refusal took their petition out of liis hands, and 
 entrusted it to Sir Henry Parnell. 
 
 It was touching to see the old statesman thus super 
 seded in the cause he had served so long, yet rising 
 without one word of complaint, of recrimination, or of 
 bitterness, to support his younger colleague. The 
 more moderate party still made him their representa- 
 tive, and nothing in his whole career is more admirable 
 tlian the good taste and the self-abnegation which 
 he manifested throughout. He made it a rule, as 
 he said, ' never to defend himself at the expense 
 of his country,' and he displayed the same zeal 
 and the same eloquence as when his popularity was 
 greatest. The ill-feeling was at one time so strong 
 that, after his election for Dublin in 1818, he was 
 nssaulted by a mob in the streets. All parties were 
 heartily ashamed of the act, and the Roman Catholics 
 and the Orangemen reciprocally charged each other 
 with the guilt.* Notwithstanding this ebullition, there 
 can be little doubt that he rose higher and higher in 
 the estimation of the educated of all parties, and that 
 the moderation and the exquisite tact he manifested 
 exercised a most powerful influence upon Parliament. 
 O'Connell adopted an entirely different course ; but, as 
 we shall see, O'Connell's object was, in all probability, 
 a different one ; and even when opposing Grattan, he 
 extolled his patriotism in the highest rerms. A living 
 historian has noticed, on the authority of Sir R. Peel, 
 a curious indication of the veneration with which 
 
 ' Grattan himself, when asked by some English friends about tho 
 cause of the riot, answered: 'It was religion — it was religion— and 
 religion broke my head.' 
 
nis DEATH. 221 
 
 Grattan was at this time regarded The members who 
 had sat Avith him in the Irish House of Commons were 
 accustomed in the English House always to address 
 him with a ' Sir,' as they would the Speaker, and tliis 
 custom was followed by liOrd Castlereagh at a time 
 when he was the leader of the House.* 
 
 To the Catholic question Grattan devoted the en- 
 tire energies of his latter years. AVith the exception 
 of one very brilliant and very successful speech in 
 favour of immediate war with France, in 1815, he 
 never spoke at length on any other subject. In 1819 
 he was defeated by a majority of only two ; and in 
 1820 he went over to London, to bring the subject 
 forward again, when the illness under which he had 
 for some time been labouring assumed a more violent 
 and deadly character. He lingered for a few days, 
 retaining to the last his full consciousness and interest 
 in public affiiirs. Those who gathered around his 
 death-bed observed with emotion how fondly and how 
 constantly his mind revertt^d to that Legislature whicli 
 he had served so faithfully and had loved so well. It 
 seemed as though the forms of its guiding spirits rose 
 more vividly on his mind as the hour approached when 
 lie was to join them in another world ; and, among the 
 last words he is recorded to have uttered, we find a 
 warm and touching eulogium of his great rival. Flood, 
 and many glowing recollections of his fellow-labourers 
 in Ireland. He passed away tranquilly and happily on 
 June G, 1820. He died, as a patriot might wish to 
 die, crowned with honours and with years, with the 
 love of friends and the admiration of opponents, leaving 
 a nation to deplore his loss and not an enemy to obscure 
 his fame. 
 
 It is at the tombs of great men that succeeding 
 ' Lord Muhon's ' History of England.' 
 
222 IIENRT G RATTAN. 
 
 generutioiis kiudle the lamp of patriotism ; and it 
 miglit have been supposed that he whose life was 
 fraught witli so many weighty lessons, and whose 
 memory possesses so deep a charm, would have rested 
 at last in his own land and among his own people. 
 Another, and, as it would seem to some, a nobler lot, 
 was reserved for Grattan. A request was made to his 
 friends that his remains might rest in Westminster 
 Abbey, and that request was complied witli. He lies 
 near the tombs of Pitt and Fox. The place is an 
 honourable one, but it was the only honour that was 
 bestowed on liim. Not a bust, not an epitaph marks 
 tlie spot where the greatest of Irish orators sleeps ; but 
 one stately form seems to bend in triumph over that 
 unnoticed grave. It is the statue of Castlercagh, ' the 
 statesman of the leo:islative Union ' 
 
DANIEL O'CONNELL, 
 
 While the Union was under discussion in the Irish 
 Parliament no class of persons exerted themselves more 
 energetically in opposing it than the Dublin lawyers. 
 Among the meetings they held for this purpose there 
 was one which assumed a peculiar significance from its 
 being composed entirely of Roman Catholics. Tliey 
 assembled to protest against the assertion that the 
 Roman Catliolics, as a body, were favourable to the 
 measure ; to express their opinion that it would exer- 
 cise an injurious influence upon the struggle for eman- 
 cipation; and to declare tliat were it otherwise they 
 did not desire to purchase that boon at the expense of 
 the independence of tlie nation. Military law was 
 tlien reigning, and a body of troops, under Major Sirr, 
 were present at the Exchange to watch the proceedings. 
 It was under these rather trying circumstances that a 
 young lawyer, ' trembling,' as he afterwards said, ' at 
 tlie sound of his own voice,' rose to make his maiden 
 Bpeech. He delivered a short address against the Union, 
 which, if it contained no very original or striking 
 views, had at least the merit of exhibiting the common 
 arguments in the clearest and most convincing light ; 
 and he shortly after hurried to a newspaper-office to 
 deposit a copy for publication. This young lawyer was 
 Daniel O'Connell, the great Irish agitator. I confess 
 that it is not without some hesitation that I approach 
 tliis part of my subject, for the difficulty of painting the 
 character of O'Connell with fairness and impartiality 
 
224 DANIEL O'COKNELL. 
 
 can hardly be exaggerated. ' Never, perhaps,' as has 
 been said, ' was there a man at once so hated and so 
 loved ; ' and it may be doubted whetlier any public 
 man of his time was tlie object of so much extravagant 
 praise and blame. On the whole, however, the latter 
 greatly preponderates. For many years the entire press 
 of England, and a large section of that of Ireland, was 
 ceaselessly employed in denouncing him. All parties 
 in England v/ere combined against him, and in Parlia- 
 ment he had to Ix^ar alone the assaults of statesmen 
 and of orators of the most varied opinions. By the 
 more violent Irish Protestants he v;as regarded with 
 feelings of mingled hatred and terror that almost 
 amounted to a superstition : and the failure of the 
 last great struggle of his life, as well as tlic disastrous 
 condition of the country at the time of liis death, has 
 been very injurious to his reputation. 
 
 Daniel O'Connell was born in the county of Kerry, in 
 the year 1775. His family was one which had for a 
 long time occupied a prominent position among the 
 Catholics of the county, which was much noted for its 
 national feeling, and, it must be added, greatly addicted 
 to smuggling. It was in after-years remarked as a 
 curious coincidence tliat its crest bore the proud motto 
 ' Oculus O'Connell Salus Hiberniie.' During his boy- 
 hood the penal laws were still unrepealed, though much 
 relaxed in their stringency, and the poorer Poman 
 Catholics had sunk into that state of degradation which 
 compulsory ignorance necessarily produces, Avhile the 
 richer drew their opinions, with their education, from 
 France. O'Connell spent a year at St. Omer, where 
 the principal predicted that he would afterwards dis- 
 tinguish himself, and he then remained for a few 
 months at the- English College of Douay. The Pevo- 
 lution had at this time shattered the French Church 
 
ENTERS INTO POLITICS. 225 
 
 and crown, and the minds of all men were violently 
 agitated in its favour or against it. O'Connell's 
 sympathies were strongly opposed to the movement. 
 Like the members of most Irish families that had 
 adhered to tlieir religion during the penal laws, he was 
 deeply attached to it, politically and tlirough feelings 
 of honour, if not from higher motives. Besides this, 
 the associations of his college were necessarily clerical; 
 and some of the revolutionary soldiers, in passing 
 througli Douay, had heaped many insults on the 
 students. On his retura to Ireland he found that the 
 contagion of the Eevolution had already spread, and 
 in tlie year '98, wlien he was called to the Bar, rebel- 
 lion was raging over the country. He became a 
 member of a yeomanry corps which the lawyers had 
 formed, and was at that time, as he afterwards con- 
 fessed, * almost a Tory.' Though he retained to the 
 last his antipathy to rebellion, his opinions in other 
 respects were soon altered by the scandalous scenes of 
 the State trials, by the spectacle of the condition of 
 his co-religionists, and above all by the circumstance^ 
 attending the Union. 
 
 The Eoman Catholics had made some inconsiderable 
 eflforts to influence public opinion by a society for the 
 purpose of preparing petitions for Parliament, and of 
 tliis society he early became a member. His extraordi- 
 nary eloquence, his fertility of resources, his eagacity 
 in reading characters and in discerning opportunities, 
 his boimdless and ever daring ambition, soon made him 
 the life of tliis society, and outweighed all the advan- 
 tages of rank and old services that were sometimes 
 opposed to his views. There is much reason to believe 
 that almost from the commencement of his career lie 
 formed one vast scheme of policy which he pursued 
 tbrcugk life with little deviation, and, it must be 
 
226 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 added, with little scruple. This scheme was to create 
 and lead a public spirit among the Eoman Catholics ; 
 to wrest emancipation by this means from the Govern- 
 ment; to perpetuate the agitation created for that 
 purpose till the Irish rarliament liad been restored ; 
 to disendow the Established Church ; and thus to open 
 in Ireland a new era, with a separate and independent 
 Parliament and perfect religious equality. It would 
 be difficult to conceive a scheme of policy exhibiting 
 more daring than this. The Roman Catholics had 
 liithcrto shown themselves absolutely incompetent to 
 take any decisive part in politics. They were not, it 
 is true, quite as prostrate as they had been when Swift 
 so contemptuously described them as being ' altogether 
 as inconsiderable as the women and cliildren, .... 
 without leaders, without discipline, without natural 
 courage, little better than hewers of wood and drawers 
 of water, and out of all capacity of doing any mischief 
 if they were ever so well inclined ;' but yet the iron 
 of the penal laws had entered into their souls, and 
 they had always thrown themselves helplessly on Pro- 
 testant leaders. Grattan, it is true, w^as now in tlie 
 decline of life, but Plunket, who was still in the 
 zenith of his great powers, was ready to succeed him. 
 If the Poman Catholics could be braced up to inde- 
 pendent exertion the noblemen and men of property in 
 their ranks would be their natiu'al leaders, and, at all 
 events, a young lawyer, dependent on his talents and 
 excluded from Parliament and from the higher ranks 
 of his profession, would seem utterly unfitted for such 
 a position. O'Connell, however, perceived that it was 
 possible to bring the whole mass of the peojile into 
 the struggle, and to give them an almost unexampled 
 momentum and unanimity by applying to politics a 
 great power that lay dormant in Ireland — the power of 
 
TEE CATnOLIC TRIESTnOOD. 227 
 
 the Catholic priesthood. To make the priests the 
 rulers of the country, and himself the ruler of the 
 priests, was his first great object. 
 
 Few things are more striking to those who compare 
 the present condition of Ireland with her past than 
 the rapidity with which the power of the priests has 
 augmented during the present century. Formerly they 
 were much loved by their flocks but much despised by 
 the Protestants, and they were contented with keeping 
 alive the spiritual feeling of their people without 
 taking any conspicuous part in politics. Once or 
 twice, indeed, the bishops came forward to disclaim 
 certain doctrines that were attributed to their Church, 
 and were advanced as an argument against emancipa- 
 tion. Once or twice they held meetings to further the 
 movement by expressing their willingness to concede 
 something to procure the boon. If they had taken a 
 certain part in favour of the Union, it was at the 
 desire of the Ministei-s, and the position of O'Leary 
 was solely due to the extreme beauty of his style. 
 
 Strange as it may now appear, the j^riests seem to 
 have been at one time most reluctant to enter into the 
 political arena, and the whole agitation was frequently 
 in danger of perishing from very languor. There was 
 a party supported by Keogh, the leader in '93, who 
 recommended what was called ' a dignified silence ' — in 
 other words, a complete abstinence from petitioning 
 and agitation. With this party O'Connell successfully 
 grappled. His advice on every occasion was, ' Agitate, 
 agitate, agitate I ' and Keogh was so irritated by tlie 
 defeat that he retired from the society. But the 
 greatest of the early triumplis of O'Connell was on the 
 V^eto question. It is evident that if the proposed com- 
 promise were made, the policy he had laid out for himself 
 would be completely frustrated. A public spirit would 
 
228 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 not he formed amon<>' the Roman Catholics hy a pro- 
 traeted strugi^lc. Emancipation ■would he a boon that 
 was conceded, not a triumph that v."as won ; and tlic 
 episcopacy would he in a measure dependent upon the 
 Crown. In the course of the contest almost every 
 element of power seemed against him. The bishops, 
 both in 1799 and in 1808, had declared themselves in 
 favour of the veto. The English lioman Catholics led 
 by INIr. Butler, the upper order of those of Ireland led 
 by Lord Fingall, and the Protestant Liberals led by 
 Grattan, warmly supported it. Shell, who was tho- 
 roughly identified with the democratic party, and whose 
 wonderful rhetorical powers gave him an extraor- 
 dinary influence, wrote and spoke in. favour of com- 
 ])romise ; and, to crown all, ]Monsignor Quarantotti, 
 who in a great mcasiu'e managed affairs at Rome during 
 11)0 captivity of Pius VII., exhorted the bishops to 
 accept it. Over all these obstacles O'Connell triumphed, 
 lie succeeded in persuading or forcing the bisliops 
 into violent opposition to the scheme, and in throwing 
 them on the support of the people. Dr. Milner wrote 
 against the veto, and was accordingly censured by the 
 English Roman Catholics ; but O'Connell induced those 
 of Ireland to support him. Grattan refused to place 
 liiniself in tlie hands of the Catholic committee, and 
 the jietition was immediately taken out of his hands. 
 Lord Fingall, Sir E. liellew, and a few other leading 
 Catholics, would not yield, and were obliged to form a 
 separate society, which soon sank into insignificance. 
 Shell was answered by O'Connell, and the answer was 
 accepted by the people as conclusive ; and, finally, the 
 rescript of Quarantotti was disobeyed by the bishops 
 and disavowed by the Pope. The results of the con- 
 troversy were probably by no means beneficial to the 
 country, but they at least served in an eminent degree 
 
EARLY REPEAL MOVEMENTS. 229 
 
 the purposes of the agitator. The clergy were brought 
 actiTely into politics. The lower orders were stirred 
 to the very depths, and O'Connell was triumphant over 
 all rivals. 
 
 In the course of this controversy it was frequently 
 urged that O'Connell's policy retarded emancipation. 
 This objection he met with characteristic frankness. 
 He avowed himself repeatedly to be an agitator with 
 an 'ulterior object,' and declared that that object was 
 the repeal of the Union. ' Desiring, as I do, the repeal 
 of the Union,' he said in one of his speeches, in 1813, 
 ' I rejoice to see how our enemies promote that great 
 object. Yes, they promote its inevitable success by 
 their very hostility to Ireland. They delay the liberties 
 of the Catholics, but they compensate us most amply 
 because they advance the restoration of Ireland. By 
 leaving one cause of agitation, they have created, and 
 they will embody and give shape and form to, a public 
 mind and a public spirit.' In 1811, at a political 
 dinner, he spoke to the toast of Eepeal, which had 
 been given at his suggestion, and he repeatedly re- 
 verted to the subject. Nothing can be more untrue 
 than to represent the Ixcpeal agitation as a mere after- 
 thouglit designed to sustain liis flagging popularity. 
 Xor can it be said tliat tlie project was first started by 
 liim. The deep indignation that tlie Union had produced 
 in Ireland was fermenting among all classes, and assum- 
 ing the form, sometimes of j* Ju'cncli party, sometimes of 
 a social war, and sometimes of a constitutional agitation. 
 The Kepeal agitation directed, but did not create, the 
 national feeling. It merely gave it a distinct form, a 
 steady action, and a constitutional character. In 1810 
 a very remarkable movement in tliis direction took place 
 in Dublin. The grand jury passed a resolution declar- 
 ing that ' the Union had produced an accumulation 
 
230 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 of distress; and that, instead of cementing, they 
 feared that if not repealed it might endanger the con- 
 nection between the sister countries.' In the same year 
 a meeting communicated on the subject with Grattan, 
 who was member for the city. Grrattan replied that a 
 Ecpeal agitation could only be successful if supported 
 by the people ; that if that support were given, he 
 would be ready to advocate the movement ; and that 
 he considered such a course perfectly consonant with 
 devoted attachment to the connection.* Lord Clon- 
 curry relates that he was a member of a deputation 
 which on another occasion waited on Grattan, and tliat 
 Grattan said to them, ' Gentlemen, the best advice I 
 can give my fellow-citizens upon every occasion is to 
 keep knocking at the Union.' 
 
 The prominent position O'Connell had assumed in 
 politics naturally exercised a fiivourable influence upon 
 his professional career, so that he became by far the 
 most popular counsel in Ireland, and was invariably 
 employed in all those cases which involved political 
 
 ' G rattan's letter is so remarkable that I give it in full. It will Lo 
 funnd in his Life, by his son : 
 
 ' Gentlempn, — I had the honour to receive an address, presented by 
 your committee, and expressive of their uishes that I should present 
 certain petitions and support the repeal of an Act entitled the " Act of 
 Union," and j-our committee adds, that it speaks with the authority of 
 my constituents, the freemen and freeholders of the City of Dublin. I 
 beg to assure your committee, and through them my much beloved and 
 much respected constituents, that I shall accede to their proposition. 
 I shall present their petitions and support the repeal of the Act of 
 Union with a decided attachment to our connection with Great Britain, 
 and to that harmony between the two countries, without which the 
 connection cannot last. I do net impair either, as I apprehend, when 
 I assure you that I shall support the repeal of the Act of Union. You 
 will please to observe that a proposition of that sort in Parliament, to 
 bo either prudent or possible, must wait until it should be called for 
 and backed by the nation. When proposed, I shall then, as at all 
 otlier times I hope I shall, prove myself an Irishman, and that Irishman 
 whose fir.'t and last passion was his native country.' 
 
SUCCESS AT THE BAR. 231 
 
 or religious considerations. There have been a few 
 lawyers of deeper knowledge, and even of more power- 
 ful eloquence, though he ranked extremely high in 
 both respects ; but never, perhaps, was there a man 
 more admirably calculated to excel at the Irish Bar. 
 His unrivalled knowledge of the Irish character ; his 
 sagacity in detecting the weaknesses of the judges, 
 jurymen, and witnesses ; the wonderful dexterity with 
 which he could avail himself of any legal quibble or 
 ambiguity; and the unblushing audacity with which he 
 could confront any opponent, enabled him quickly to 
 distance all competitors. It is difficult for those who 
 are habituated only to the law-courts of England to 
 conceive the vast difference in this respect between the 
 two countries. The diflference of the characters of the 
 two nations is nowhere more apparent, and, besides 
 tliis, the proceedings of the Irish law-courts have ever 
 been deeply tinged witli religious and political con- 
 siderations. In appointments of judges and of law- 
 officers the first question asked by the public seems 
 to be their religion, tlie second their politics, the 
 last tlieir legal knowledge ; and the scandal of mere 
 party judges has been both more frequent and more 
 recent in Ireland than in England. Besides this, 
 an unusual proportion of tlie leading politicians of 
 Ireland have been practising barristers, and the temp- 
 tation of making a trial on a question of tithes, or 
 tenant-right, or libel, an occasion for a brilliant display, 
 was irresistible both to the politician and to the orator. 
 As trials of this nature were continually occurring, and 
 as their exclusion from the inner bar and from the 
 bench gave the Koman Catholics a tenfold virulence, 
 the scenes which took place at the Four Courts during 
 the earlier part of the century may be more easily 
 conceived than described. O'Connell always defended 
 
232 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 the excessive violence of his language, both at the Bar 
 and on the platform, on the ground of tlie peculiar 
 position of the Roman Catholics. He said tliat he had 
 found his co-religionists as broken in spirit as they 
 were in fortune ; that tliey had adopted the tone of 
 the weakest mendicants ; that they seemed ever fearful 
 of wearying the dominant caste by their importunit}', 
 and that they were utterly unmindful of their power 
 and of their rignts. His most difficult task was to 
 persuade them of their strength, and to teach them 
 to regard themselves as the equals of their fellow- 
 countrymen. The easiest way of breaking the spell 
 was to adopt a defiant and an overbearing tone. The 
 spectacle of a Eoman Catholic fearlessly assailing the 
 hii!:hest in the land with the fiercest invective and tlie 
 most unceremonious ridicule, was eminently calculated 
 to invigorate a cowering people. A tone of extreme 
 violence was the best corrective for a spirit of extreme 
 servility. 
 
 Tliere is undoubtedly some truth in these considera- 
 tions, and they extenuate not a little the language 
 of O'Connell ; but they are certainly far from justi- 
 fying it, either morally or politically. The ceaseless 
 torrent of the coarsest abuse which at every period 
 of his life, and in every sphere in which he moved, he 
 poured upon all opponents ; the rapidity with which he 
 passed, on a very small provocation, from a tone of the 
 most hyperbolical praise to language that was worthy 
 of Billingsgate ; and the virulence with which he 
 !ittacked some of the most illustrious characters in the 
 country, prejudiced all moderate men against him. It 
 was said of him that his mind consisted of two com- 
 partments — the one inliabited by the purest angels, and 
 the other by the vilest demons — and that the occupation 
 of his life was to transfer his friends from the one to 
 
niS TIOLENT LANGUAGE. 233 
 
 the other. A man who did not hesitate to describe the 
 I)uke of \A'ellington as ' a stunted corporal,' and who 
 applied to other opponents such terms as ' a mighty 
 big liar,' or 'a lineal descendant of the impenitent 
 thief,' or 'a titled buffoon,' or 'a contumelious cur,' 
 or ' a pig,' or ' a scorpion,' or 'an indescribable wretch,' 
 placed himself beyond the pale of courtesy. The abuse 
 he at one period of his life poured upon the Whigs 
 embarrassed him during all the later part of his careei-, 
 and he drew down upon himself the formal reprimand 
 of the House of Commons by accusing the Tory mem- 
 bers on election committees of 'foul perjury.' Such 
 language could hardly fail to lower the character of 
 the movement, and it especially weakened his position 
 when he became a member of Parliament. That tone 
 of gentlemanly moderation, that well-bred, pungent 
 raillery which is so characteristic of the English Par- 
 liament, and has been brouglit to the greatest perfec- 
 tion by Lord Palmerston, has oft^n proved a more 
 efficient weapon of debate than the most splendid 
 eloquence or the most trenchant wit. It draws a magic 
 circle around the speaker, which only similar weapons 
 can penetrate, and it seldom fails to secure the atten- 
 tion and the respect of the public. 
 
 Tlie greatest speeches of 0"Connell at the Bar were 
 in defence of Magee, the editor of the ' Evening Post,' 
 who had libelled the Buke of Kichmond. They consist 
 chiefly of an invective against Saurin, the Attorney- 
 General, as the representative of tlie Orange party, and 
 were so violent that the publication of one of them 
 was pronounced to be an aggravation of the original 
 libel. In point of eloquence, however, they rank very 
 high ; but they are almost exclusively political, for the 
 case of his client was a hopeless one. The principal 
 success of O'Connell at the Ear was, perhaps, not in 
 
234 DANIEL O CONNELL. 
 
 oratory, but in cross-examining. He had paid special 
 attention to this department, which naturally fell, in a 
 great measure, to the Koman Catholic lawyers at a 
 time when they were excluded from the inner bar ; and 
 he brought it to a degree of perfection almost unpa- 
 ralleled in Ireland. His wonderful insight into cha- 
 racter, and tact in managing different temperaments, 
 enabled him to unravel the intricacies of deceit witli 
 a rapidity and a certainty that seemed miraculous, and 
 liis biographies are full of almost incredible illustra- 
 tions of his skill. ^ 
 
 It would be tedious to follow into minute detail the 
 difficulties and the mistakes tliat obstructed the Catho- 
 lic movement, and were finally overcome by the energy 
 or the tact of O'Connell. For some time the gravest 
 fears were entertained that the Pope would pronounce 
 in favour of the veto. A strong party at Eome, headed 
 by Cardinal Gonsalvi, was known to advocate it, and 
 tlie deputy of the Irish bishops adopted so importunate 
 a tone that he was peremptorily dismissed, and pro- 
 nounced by his Holiness to be 'intolerable.' Innu- 
 merable dissensions dislocated the movement, and 
 demanded all the efforts of O'Connell to appease them. 
 ^^'hen the Roman Catholic gentry had seceded, a mul- 
 titude of those eccentric characters w^ho are ever ready 
 to embark in agitation from the mere spirit of adven- 
 ture assumed a dangerous prominence, and it was 
 found necessary to adopt a most despotic tone to repress 
 them. The hopes that were entertained of the Prince 
 of Wales produced a great deal of gross and vulgar 
 flattery, and in 1812, when the change in his senti- 
 ments became known, some most injudicious resolutions, 
 ascribing it to 'the fatal witchery of an unworthy 
 
 * See eapocially Mr. O'Xeil Paunt's very interesting ' Personal He- 
 collections of Couuell.' 
 
AGITATION FOR EMANCirATION. 235 
 
 secret influence.' When he visited Ireland after his 
 coronation, the unbounded sycophancy of some of the 
 Orangemen on one side, and of O'Connell on the other, 
 went far to justify the somewhat strange saying of Swift, 
 that ' loyalty is the foible of the Irish.' Lord Byron, 
 who took a strong interest in tlie Catholic cause, which 
 he defended in the House of Lords, was justly indig- 
 nant, and branded the conduct of O'Connell with great 
 severity in the ' Irish Avatar.' 
 
 In 1815 O'Connell fought a duel with a gentleman 
 named D'Esterre, which was attended by some very 
 painful circumstances, and gave rise to much subse- 
 quent discussion. It arose out of the epithet ' beggarly' 
 which O'Connell had applied to the corporation of 
 Dublin. D'Esterrc was killed at the first shot. In the 
 same year Mr, Peel had challenged O'Connell, on 
 account of some violent expressions he had employed. 
 O'Connell, however, was very opportunely arrested at 
 his wife's information, and bound over to keep the 
 
 peace. 
 
 Several times the movement was menaced by Govern- 
 ment proclamations and prosecutions. Its great diffi- 
 culty was to bring the public opinion of the whole 
 body of the Roman Catholics actively and habitually 
 into the question. The skill and activity of O'Connell 
 in arousing tli'^ people were beyond all praise, and 
 the consciousness of the presence of a great leader be- 
 jran to spread through the whole mass of the ignorant, 
 dispirited, and dependent Catholics. All preceding 
 movements since the Revolution (except the passing 
 excitement about Wood's halfpence) had been chiefly 
 amon<^ the Protestants or among the higher order of 
 the Catholics. The mass of the people had taken no 
 veal interest in politics, had felt no real pain at their 
 disabilities, and were politically the willing slaves 
 
fi36 
 
 of their landlords. For the first time, under • the 
 influence of O'Connell, the great swell of a really de- 
 mocratic movement was felt. The simplest way of 
 concentratinfjj the new enthusiasm would have been by 
 a system of delegates, but this had been rendered ille- 
 gal by tlie Convention Act. On the other hand, the 
 right of petitioning was one of the fundamental privi- 
 leges of the constitution. By availing himself of this 
 right O'Connell contrived, with the dexterity of a prac- 
 tised lawyer, to violate continually the spirit of the 
 Convention Act, while keeping within the letter of the 
 law. Proclamation after proclamation was launched 
 against his society, but by conti.'iually changing its 
 name and its form he generally succeeded in evading 
 the prosecutions of the Grovernment. 
 
 These early societies, liowever, all sink into insigni- 
 ficance compared with that great Catholic Association 
 which was formed in 1824. The avowed objects of this 
 society were to promote religious education, to ascer- 
 tain the numerical strength of the different religions, 
 and to answer the charges against the Roman Catholics 
 embodied in the hostile petitions. It also recoininended 
 petitions (unconnected with the society) from every 
 parisli, and aggregate meetings in every county. The 
 real object was to form a gigantic system of organisa- 
 tion, ramifying over the entire country, and directed in 
 every parish by the priests, for the purpose of peti- 
 tioning and in every other way agitating in favour of 
 emancipation. The Catholic Rent was instituted at 
 this time, and it formed at once a powerful instrument 
 of cohesion and a faithful barometer of the popular 
 feeling. It is curious that at the first two meetings 
 O'Connell w^-is unable to obtain the attendance of ten 
 members to form a quorum. On the third day the 
 same difficully .-it first 'occurred, but O'Connell at length 
 
snriL. 237 
 
 induced two Mayiiootli students who were passing to 
 make up the requisite number, and the introduction of 
 this clerical element set the machine in motion. Very 
 Boon, however, the importance of the new society 
 became manifest. Almost tlie whole priesthood of 
 Ireland were actively engaged in its service, and it 
 threatened to overawe every other authority in the 
 land. In the elections of 1826 sacerdotal influence 
 was profoundly felt ; and the defeat of the Beresfords 
 in the Catholic county of Waterford, in which, in spite 
 of their violent anti-Catholicism, they had for genera- 
 tions been supreme, foreshadowed clearly the coming 
 change. Tlie people were organised with unprece- 
 dented rapidity, and O'Connell and Shell traversed the 
 country in all directions to address them. 
 
 Though both were marvellously successful in swaying 
 and in fascinating the multitude, it would be difficult 
 to conceive a greater contrast tlian was presented by 
 their styles. 
 
 Richard Lalor Shell forms one of the many exam- 
 ples of splendid oratorical powers clogged by insu- 
 perable natural defects. His person was diminutive, 
 and wholly devoid of dignity ; his voice shrill, harsh, 
 and often rising into a positive shriek ; his action, 
 tliough indicative of an intense earnestness, violent 
 without gracefulness, and eccentric even to absurdity. 
 He had distinguished himself as a poet and a dramatist ; 
 and it was, perhaps, in consequence of the habits he 
 acquired in those fields that his speeches, though 
 extremely beautiful as compositions, were always a 
 little overcharged with ornament, and a little too care- 
 fully elaborated. They seem exactly to fulfil Burke's 
 description of perfect oratory, ' half poetry, half prose ;' 
 yet we feel that their ornaments, however beautiful in 
 themselves, offend by tlieir profusion. Two very high 
 
238 DANIEL 0'C0N>^ELL. 
 
 excellences he possessed to a pre-eminent degree — the 
 power of combining extreme preparation with the 
 greatest passion, and of blending argument with decla- 
 mation. There are very few speakers from whom it 
 would be possible to cite so many passages with all the 
 sustained rhythm and flow of declamation, yet consist- 
 ing wholly of condensed arguments. He was a great 
 master of irony, and, unlike O'Connell, could adapt it 
 either to a vulgar or to a refined audience. He had 
 but little readiness, and almost always prepared the 
 language as well as the substance of his speeches ; but 
 lie seems to have carefully followed the example of 
 Cicero in studying the case of his opponents as fully as 
 his own, and was thus enabled to anticipate with great 
 accuracy the course of the debate. He was more cal- 
 culated to please than to move, and to dazzle than to 
 convince. 
 
 In almost every respect O'Connell differed from Sheil. 
 Had he been a man of second-rate talent, he would 
 have imitated some of the great orators who adorned 
 the Irish Parliament ; he would have studied epigram 
 like Grattan, or irony like Plunket, or polished decla- 
 mation like Curran. Ho seems, however, to have early 
 felt that neither the character of his mind nor the 
 career he had chosen were propitious for these forms of 
 eloquence, while he was eminently fitted to excel in 
 other ways. He possessed a voice of almost unexampled 
 perfection. Eising with an easy and melodious swell, 
 it filled the largest building and triumphed over the 
 wildest tumult, while at the same time it conveyed 
 every inflection of feeling with the most delicate flexi- 
 bility. It was equally suited for impassioned appeal, 
 for graphic narration, and for sweeping the finer chords 
 of pathos and of sensibility. He had studied carefully 
 that consummate mastcj- of elocution William Pitt, 
 
HIS ELOQUENCE. 239 
 
 and ho had acquired an almost equal skill. No one 
 knew better how to pass from impetuous denunciation 
 to a tone of subdued but thrilling tenderness. No one 
 quoted poetry with greater feeling and eflfect ; no one 
 had more completely mastered the art of adapting his 
 voice to his audience, and of terminating a long 
 sentence without effort and without feebleness. His 
 action was so easy, natural, and suited to his subject, 
 that it almost escaped the notice of the observer. His 
 language was clear, nervous, and fluent, but often in- 
 correct, and scarcely ever polished. Having but little 
 of the pride of a rhetorician, he subordinated strictly 
 all other considerations to the end he was seeking to 
 achieve, and readily sacrificed every grace of style 
 in order to produce an immediate effect. 'A great 
 speech,' he used to say, is a very fine thing ; but, after 
 all, the verdict is the thing.' As Shell complained, 
 ' he often threw out a brood of sturdy young ideas 
 upon the world without a rag to cover them.' He had 
 no dread of vulgar expressions, coarse humour, or un- 
 dignified illustrations ; but at the same time he seldom 
 failed to make a visible impression ; for, in addition to 
 the intrinsic power of his eloquence, he possessed in 
 the highest degi'ee the tact which detects the weak- 
 nesses and prejudices of his audience and the skill 
 which adapts itself to their moods. His readiness in 
 reply was boundless, his arguments were stated with 
 masterly force, and his narrative was always lucid 
 and vivid. If he endeavoured to become eloquent by 
 preparation, he grew turgid and bombastic ; if he relied 
 exclusively on the feelings of the moment, he of^en 
 rose to a strain of masculine beauty that was all the 
 more forcible from its being evidently un prepared. 
 His bursts of passion displayed that freshness and 
 genuine character that art can so seldom counterfeit. 
 
240 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 The listener seemed almost to follow the workings of 
 liis mind — to perceive him liewing liis thoughts into 
 rhetoric with a negligent but colossal grandeur ; with 
 the chisel, not of a Canova, but of a Michael Angelo. 
 Were we to analyse the pleasure we derive from the 
 speeches of a brilliant orator, we should probably find 
 that one great source is this constant perception of an 
 ever-recurring difficulty skilfully overcome. \N'ith some 
 speakers appropriate language flows forth in such a 
 rapid and unbroken stream that the charm of art is 
 lost by its very perfection. With others the difficulties of 
 expression are so painfully exhibited or so imperfectly 
 overcome that we listen with feelings of apprehension 
 and of pity. But when the happy medium is attained — 
 when the idea that is to be conveyed is present for a 
 moment to the listener's thought before it is moulded 
 into the stately period — the music of each balanced 
 sentence acquires an additional charm from our per- 
 ception of the labour that produced it. In addressing 
 the populace the great talents of O'Connell shone forth 
 with their full resplendency. Such an audience alone 
 is susceptible of the intense feelings the orator seeks 
 to convey, and over such an audience O'Connell exer- 
 cised an unbounded influence. Tens of thousands 
 hung entranced upon his accents, melted into tears or 
 convulsed with laughter — fired with the most impas- 
 sioned and indignant enthusiasm, yet so restrained 
 that not an act of riot or of lawlessness, not a scene of 
 drunkenness or of disorder, resulted from those vast 
 assemblies. His genius was more wonderful in con- 
 trolling than in exciting, and there was no chord of 
 feeling that he could not strike with power. Other 
 orators studied rhetoric — O'Connell studied man. 
 
 If we compare the two speakers, I should say that 
 before an uneducated audience O'Connell was wholly 
 
rnOGRESS OF THE ASSOCIATION. 241 
 
 unrivalled, while before an educated audience Sheil 
 was most fitted to please and O'Connell to convince. 
 Both were powerful reasoners, but the arguments of 
 O'Connell stood in bold and clear relief, while the 
 attention was somewhat diverted from those of Sheil 
 by the ornaments and mannerism that accompanied 
 them. Both possessed great powers of ridicule, but in 
 O'Connell it assumed the form of coarse but genuine 
 humour, and in Sheil of refined and pungent wit. By 
 too great preparation Shell's speeches displayed some- 
 times an excess of brilliancy. By elaborate preparation 
 O'Connell occasionally fell into bombast. O'Connell was 
 much the greater debater, Sheil was much the greater 
 master of composition. O'Connell possessed the more 
 vigorous intellect, and Sheil the more correct taste. 
 
 The success of the Catholic Association became 
 every week more striking. The rent rose with an 
 extraordinary rapidity. Tiie meetings in every county 
 grew more and more enthusiastic, the triumph of 
 priestly influence more and more certain. The Grovern- 
 ment made a feeble and abortive effort to arrest the 
 storm by threatening both O'Connell and Sheil with 
 prosecution for certain passages in their speeches. 
 Tlie sentence cited from O'Connell was one in which 
 he expressed a hope that ' if Ireland were driven 
 mad by persecution a new Bolivar miglit arise,' but 
 the employment of this language was not clearly esta- 
 blished, and the Bill was thrown out. The speech 
 which was to have drawn a prosecution upon Sheil was 
 a kind of dissertation upon ' Wolfe Tone's Memoirs 
 of which Canning afterwards said that it might ha^ 
 been delivered in Parliament without even eliciting 
 call to order. The Attorney-General was Plunke 
 who by this act completed the destruction of h 
 influence in Ireland. Sheil asked him, as a sing 
 12 
 
242 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 favour, to conduct the prosecution in person. Had 
 he done so, Sheil intended to cite the passages from 
 Plunket's speeches on the Union, which at least equalled 
 in violence any that the Repealers ever delivered. The 
 dissolution of the Government prevented the intended 
 prosecution. 
 
 One very serious consequence of the resistance to the 
 demand for emancipation was the strengthening of the 
 sympathy between Ireland and France. The French 
 education of many of the Irish priests, and the pro- 
 minent position of France among Eoman Catholic 
 nations, had naturally elicited and sustained it. The 
 sagacity of O'Connell readily perceived what a powerful 
 auxiliary foreign opinion would be to his cause ; and 
 by sending the resolutions of the association to Catholic 
 Governments, by translations of the debates, and by a 
 series of French letters written by Sheil, the feeling 
 was constantly fanned. Many Irishmen have believed 
 that the existence of this sympathy is an evil. I 
 confess I can hardly think so. Irishmen should never 
 forget how, in the hour of their deepest distress, when 
 their energies were paralysed by a persecuting code, 
 and their land was wasted by confiscation and war, 
 France opened her ranks to receive them, and afforded 
 them the opportunities of honour and distinction they 
 were denied at home. Gratitude to the French nation 
 is a sentiment in which both Irish Catholics and Irish 
 Protestants may cordially concur. The first will ever 
 look back with pride to the achievements of the Irish 
 brigade, which threw a ray of light over the gloomiest 
 period of their depression. The second should not 
 wholly forget that to the enterprise of French refugees 
 is due a large part of the manufactures which consti- 
 tute a main element of their prosperity. Nor is it 
 possible for any patriotic Irishman to contrast without 
 
FRENCH STMrATHIES. 243 
 
 .•motion the tone which has been adopted towards his 
 country by some of the most eminent writers of France 
 with the studied depreciation of the Irish character by 
 some of the most popular authors and by a large 
 section of the press of England. The character of a 
 nation is its most precious possession, and it is to such 
 writers as Montalembert and Gustave de Beaumont 
 that it is mainly due that Ireland has still many 
 sympathisers on the Continent. 
 
 But in addition to these considerations there are 
 others of much weight that may be alleged. One 
 of the most important intellectual advantages of 
 Catliolicism is, that the constant international commu- 
 nication it produces corrects insular modes of thought, 
 and it has been of no small benefit to Irishmen that 
 th 'V liave never been altogether without some tincture 
 of I''i< ncli culture. In the worst period of the last 
 century tliis was secured by the French education of 
 the priests ; and, in spite of geographical position 
 and of penal laws, a certain current of continental 
 ideas lias always been perceptible among the people. 
 Tlie spirit of French Catholicism long gave a larger 
 and more liberal character to Irish Catliolicism, and in 
 French literature Irish writers have found the supreme 
 models of a type of excellence which is peculiarly 
 congruous to the national mind. There have sometimes 
 oecn political dangers arising from the sympathy be- 
 tween the nations ; but on the whole it has, I believe, 
 produced far more good than evil. 
 
 The formation of the Wellington Ministry seemed 
 effectually to crush the present hopes of the Catholics, 
 for the stubborn resolution of its leader was as well 
 known as his Tory opinions. Yet this Ministry was 
 destined to terminate the contest by establishing 
 the principle of religious equality. The first great 
 
244 DANIEL OCONNELL. 
 
 concession was won by Lord J. Russell, wbo, by obtain- 
 ing the repeal of the Corporation and Test Acts, secured 
 the admission of Dissenters to the full privileges of 
 the constitution. The Tory theory that the State 
 having an established religion, the members of that re- 
 ligion had aright Ko d position of political ascendency, 
 was thus for the first time rejected, and with it fell 
 the most popular argument against Catholic emanci- 
 pation. O'Connell and the Ctholics warmly sup- 
 ported the Dissenters in their struggle for emanci- 
 pation, but the 'No Popery' feeling among the latter 
 was so strong that they never reciprocated the assist- 
 ance. Even at a time when they were themselves 
 suffering from disabling laws, they were in general 
 liostile to Catholic emancipation. 
 
 About this time a new project of compromise was 
 much discussed, both in Parliament and by the public, 
 which shows clearly how greatly the prospects of the 
 cause had improved. This project was, that the eman- 
 cipation should be accompanied by the payment of the 
 clergy by the State, and by the disfranchisement of 
 the 405. freeholders. It seems to have been very 
 generally felt that while emancipation could not be 
 long delayed, some measure should be taken to prevent 
 the Poman Catholic body from being virtually inde- 
 pendent of the Crown. It was felt that a body which 
 was connected by interests, by sympathies and alle- 
 giance, with a foreign Court, might become very 
 dangerous in Parliament. To pay the Roman Catholic 
 clergy would be to unite them by a strong tie to 
 England, and to place them in a measure imder the 
 control of the Government. It would also, in all 
 probability, set at rest the long-vexed question of 
 the Established Church. Pitt had contemplated the 
 measure, and it found many very able advocates in 
 
THE CLARE ELECTION. 245 
 
 England. O'Connell at iirst tbougbt that the clergy 
 should demand this arrangement ; but, on their vehe- 
 ment opposition, ho renounced the idea. In 1837 
 }ie had a warm controversy on the subject with Mr. 
 Smith O'Brien, who advocated pajmient. Each was 
 probably right, according to his own point of view. 
 ]Mr. O'Brien looked mainly to the interests of his 
 country — O'Connell to the interests of his Church. 
 To pay the priests would have been, in a great measure, 
 to pacify Ireland, but they would have been less 
 powerful than when resting exclusively on the people, 
 and they have always cared much more for power than 
 for money. 
 
 On the accession of the AVellington Ministry to 
 power the Catholic Association passed a resolution to 
 the effect that they would oppose with their whole 
 energy any Irish member who consented to accept 
 office under it. When the Test and Corporation Acts 
 were repealed, Lord John Russell advised the with- 
 drawal of this resolution, and O'Connell, who, at that 
 time, usually acted as moderator, was inclined to 
 comply. Fortunately, however, his opinion was over- 
 ruled. An opportunity for carrying the resolution 
 into effect soon occurred. Mr. Fitzgerald, the member 
 for Clare, accepted the office of President of the Board 
 of Trade, and was consequently obliged to go to his 
 constituents for re-election. An attempt was made 
 to induce a Major Macnamara to oppose him, but it 
 failed at the last moment, and then O'Connell adopted 
 the bold resolution of standing himself. The excite- 
 ment at this announcement rose at once to fever 
 height. It extended over every part of Ireland, and 
 penetrated every class of society. Tlie whole mass of 
 the Roman Catholics prepared to support him, and 
 the vast system of organisation which he had framed 
 
246 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 acted effectually in every direction. He went down 
 to the field of battle, accompanied by Shell, by the 
 well-kno\\Ti controversialist Father INIaguire, and by 
 Steele and O'Grorman Mahon, two very ardent but 
 eccentric Repealers, who proposed and seconded him. 
 ]\Ir. Steele began operations by offering to fight a 
 duel with any landlord who was aggrieved at the 
 interference with his tenants — a characteristic but 
 judicious proceeding, which greatly simplified the con- 
 test. O'Connell, Shell, and Father Maguire flew over 
 the country, haranguing the people. The priests ad- 
 dressed the parishioners with impassioned zeal from 
 the altar ; they called on them, as they valued their 
 immortal souls, as they would avoid the doom of the 
 apostate and the renegade, to stand firm to the banner 
 of their faith. Robed in the sacred vestments, and 
 bearing aloft the image of God, they passed from 
 rank to rank, stimulating the apathetic, encouraging 
 the fainthearted, and imprecating curses on the re- 
 creant. They breathed the martyr-spirit into their 
 people, and persuaded them that their cause was as 
 sacred as that of the early Christians. They opposed 
 the spell of religion to the spell of feudalism — the 
 traditions of the chapel to the traditions of the 
 hall. 
 
 The landlords, on the other hand, were equally 
 resolute. They were indignant at a body of men wlio 
 had no connection with the county presuming to 
 dictate to their tenants. They protested vehemently 
 against th& introduction of spiritual influence into a 
 political election, and against the ingratitude manl- 
 Tested towards a tried and upright member. Mr. Fitz- 
 gerald had always been a supporter of the Catholic 
 cause. He was an accomplished speaker, a man of 
 unquestioned integrity, and of most fasclnatiug and 
 
TEE CLARE ELECTION. 247 
 
 polishofi manners. His father who was at this time 
 lyinr, on his death-bed — had been one of those members 
 of the Irish Parliament who had resisted all the offers 
 and all the persuasions of the IMinistry, and had 
 recorded their votes against the Union. The land- 
 lords were to a man in his favour. Sir Edward 
 O'Brien, the father of Mr. Smith O'Brien, and the 
 leading landlord, proposed ]iim, and almost all the 
 men of weight and reputation in the county sur- 
 rounded him on the hustings. Nor did he prove un- 
 worthy of the contest. His speech was a model of 
 good taste, of popular reasoning, and of touching 
 appeal. He recounted his services and the services of 
 liis father ; and, as he touched with delicate pathos on 
 this latter subject, his voice faltered and his coun- 
 tenance betrayed so genuine an emotion that a kindred 
 feeling passed through all his hearers, and he closed 
 his speech amidst almost unanimous applause. The 
 effect was, however, soon counteracted by O'Connell, 
 wlio exerted himself to the utmost on the occasion, 
 and withheld no invective and no sarcasm that could 
 subserve his cause. After two or three days' polling 
 the victory was decided, and Mr. Fitzgerald withdrew 
 from the contest. 
 
 Ireland was now on the very verge of revolution. 
 The 'fthole mass of the people ]iad been organised like 
 a regular army, and taught to act with the most 
 perfect unanimity. Adopting a suggestion of Shell, 
 they were accustomed to assenible in every part of 
 the country on the same day, and scarcely an adult 
 Catholic abstained from the movement. In 1828 it 
 was computed that in a single day two thousand meet- 
 ings were held. In the same year Lord Anglesey had 
 written to Sir Eobert Peel, stating that the priests 
 were working most effectually on the Catholics of the 
 
H8 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 army, that it was reported that many of these were 
 ill-disposed, and that it was important to remove the 
 depots of recruits, and supj^Iy their place by Euglisi' 
 or Scotch men. Tlie contagion of the movement liad 
 thoroughly infected the wliole population. If conces- 
 sion had not been made, almost e^'e^y Catholic county 
 would have followed the example of Clare ; and the 
 Ministers, feeling further resistance to be hopeless, 
 brought in the Emancipation Bill, confessedly because 
 to withhold it would be to kindle a rebellion that 
 would extend over the length and breadth of the 
 land. 
 
 It was thus that this great \ictory was won by the 
 genius of a single man, who had entered on the con- 
 test without any advantage of rank, or Avealth, or 
 influence, who had maintained it from no prouder 
 eminence than the platform of the demagogue, and 
 who terminated it without the effusion of a single 
 drop of blood. All the eloquence of Grattan and of 
 Plunket, all the influence of Pitt and of Canning, had 
 proved ineffectual. Toryism had evoked the spirit of 
 relicfious intolerance. The pulpits of England resounded 
 witli denunciations ; the Evangelical movement had 
 roused the fierce passions of Puritanism; yet every 
 obstacle succumbed before the energy of this untitled 
 lawyer. The most eminent advocates of emancipation 
 had almost all fallen away from and disavowed him. 
 He had devised the organisation that gave such weight 
 to public opinion ; he had created the enthusiasm that 
 inspired it ; he had applied to political affairs the 
 priestly influence that consecrated it. With the ex- 
 ception of Sheil, no man of commanding talent shared 
 his labours, and Sheil was conspicuous only as a rhe- 
 torician. He gained this victory not by stimulating 
 the courage or increasing the number of the advocates 
 
THE IRISH LANDLORDS. 249 
 
 of the measure in Parliament, but by creating another 
 system of government in Ireland, wliich overawed all 
 his opponents. He gained it at a time when his 
 bitterest enemies held the reins of power, and when 
 they were guided by tlie most successful statesman of 
 his generation, and by one of the most stubborn wills 
 that ever directed the atfairs of tho nation. If he 
 had never arisen, emancipation would doubtless, have 
 been at length conceded, but it would have been con- 
 ceded as a boon granted by a superior to an inferior 
 class, and it would have been accompanied and quali- 
 fied ])y the veto. It was the glory of O'Connell that 
 his Church entered into the constitution triumphant 
 and unshackled — an object of fear and not of contempt 
 — a power that could visibly affect the policy of the 
 empire. 
 
 The Relief Bill of 1829 marks a great social revolu- 
 tion in Ireland — the substitution of the priests for the 
 landlords as tlic leaders of the people. For a long 
 time a kind of feudal system liad existed, under which 
 the people were drawn in the closest manner to the 
 landlords. In estimating the character of this latter 
 class we must, I think, make very large allowance for 
 the singularly unfavourable circumstances under which 
 they had long been placed. The Irish Parliament was 
 goveraed chiefly by corruption, and as the landlords 
 controlled most of the votes, and as the county dignities 
 to which they aspired were all in the gift of the 
 Government, they were, beyond all other classes, ex- 
 posed to temptation. They were also subject to much 
 "ihe same kind of demoralising process as that which 
 in slave countries invariably degrades the slave-owner. 
 Tlie estate of tho Protestant landowner had in very 
 many cases been torn by violence from its former 
 possessors. He held it by tlu; tenure and in tlie spirit 
 
250 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 of a conqueror. His tenants were of a conquered race, 
 of a despised religion, speaking another language, de- 
 nuded of all political rights, sunk in abject ignorance 
 and poverty, and with no leader under whom they 
 could rally. Surrounded with helots depending abso- 
 lutely on his will, it was not surprising that he con- 
 tracted the vices of a despot. Arthur Young concludes 
 a viv\d description of the relation between the classes 
 by the assertion that ' a landlord in Ireland can scarcely 
 invent an order which a servant, or labourer, or cot- 
 tier dares to refuse to execute ; ' and the total absence of 
 independence on the part of the lower orders, and the 
 general tolerance of brutal violence on the part of the 
 higher orders, struck most Englishmen in Ireland. 
 Besides this, the penal laws which gave the Avhole 
 estate of the Catholic to any son who w^ould consent to 
 abjure his religion, seemed ingeniously contrived to 
 secure a perpetual influx of unprincipled men into the 
 landlord class ; while the vast smuggling trade which 
 necessarily followed the arbitrary and ruinous pro- 
 hibition of the export of wool, conspired wuth other 
 causes to make the landlords, like all other Irishmen, 
 hostile to the law. The glimpses wliich are given 
 incidentally of their mode of life by Swift, Berkeley, 
 Chesterfield, and Dobbs, and at a later period by Arthur 
 Young, are in many respects exceedingly unfavourable. 
 The point of honour in Ireland has always been rather 
 in favour of improvidence than of economy. In dress 
 and living a scale of reckless expenditiue w^as common, 
 which impelled the landlords to rackrents and invasions 
 of the common land, and these in their turn produced 
 the agrarian troubles of the ' ^^'hiteboys ' and ' Hearts 
 of Steel.' Hard drinking was carried to a much greater 
 extent than in England, and both Berkeley and Chester- 
 field have noticed the extraordinary consumption of 
 
TITB imSlI LANDLORDS. 251 
 
 French wines, even in families of very moderate means. 
 The character of the whole hmded interest is always 
 profoundly influenced by that of its natural leaders, 
 the aristocracy and the magistracy; but in Ireland 
 peerages were systematically conferred as a means of 
 corruption, and the appointments to the magistracy 
 were so essentially political that even in the present 
 century landlords have been refused the dignity because 
 they were favourable to Catholic emancipation.' A 
 spirit of reckless place-hunting and jobbing was very 
 prevalent, and combined curiously with that extreme 
 lawlessness which wvas the characteristic of every section 
 of Irish society. Duelling was almost universal, and 
 it was carried largely into politics, and even into the 
 administration of justice; for a magistrate who gave a 
 decision in favour of a tenant against his landlord was 
 liable to be called out, and by the same process land- 
 lords are said to have defended their own tenants 
 against prosecution. No Irish jury, Arthur Young 
 assures us, would in duelling cases find a verdict 
 against the homicide. It was a common boast that 
 there were whole districts in which the King's writ 
 wiis inoperative. In the early part of the eighteenth 
 century 'hell-fire clubs,' which were scenes of gross 
 vice, existed in Dublin, and the crime of forcible ab- 
 duction was, through nearly the whole of the eighteenth 
 century, probably more common in Ireland than in 
 any other European country, and it prevailed both 
 among the gentry and among the peasants. ^ It is 
 worthy of notice that Aiihur Young observed in the 
 
 ' Tlie reader may find some rcry curious facts about the appointments 
 of Irish magistrates in the early part of this century in O'Flanagan's 
 ' Lives of the Irish Chancellors ' (Life of Lord Manners) ; Lord Clon- 
 curry's ' Personal Recollections ; ' and Bulwcr's ' Life of Lord Palmcr- 
 Bton,' vol. i. p. 337. 
 
252 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 former, as much as in the latter, a strong disposition 
 to screen criminals from justice. 
 
 These are the shades of the picture, and they are 
 sufficiently dark. On the other hand, as the eighteenth 
 century advanced, the character of the higher classes 
 imj^roved. Drinking and duelling, though still very 
 general, had appreciably diminished. The demoralising 
 influence of the penal laws was mitigated. The gentry 
 were gradually rooted to the soil, and a strong national 
 feeling having arisen, they ceased to look upon them- 
 selves as aliens or conquerors. The Irish character i;^ 
 naturally intensely aristocratic ; and when gross oppres- 
 sion was not perpetrated, the Irish landlords were, 1 
 imagine, on the whole very popular, and the rude, 
 good-humoured despotism which they wielded wai- 
 cordially accepted. Their extravagance, their lavisb 
 hospitality, their reckless courage, their keen sportinc^ 
 tastes, won the hearts of their people, and tlie feudal 
 sentiment that the landlord should command the votes 
 of his tenants was universal and unquestioned. Tlic 
 measure of 1793, conferring votes on the Catholics, 
 though it is said to liave weakened the zeal of some oi 
 the advocates of Parliament ar}^ reform, left this feeling- 
 unchanged. Xor were the Irish gentry without quali- 
 ties of a high order. The love of witty society ; the pas- 
 sion for the drama and especially for private thea- 
 tricals, which was very general in Ireland through the 
 eighteenth century ; and, above all, the great school 
 of Parliamentary eloquence in Dublin, indicated and 
 fostered tastes very different from those of mere 
 illiterate country squires. The noble efflorescence of 
 political and oratorical genius among Irishmen in the 
 last quarter of the century, the perfect calm with 
 which great measures for the relief of the Catholics 
 which would have been impossible in En;^land were 
 
THE IRISH LANDLORDS. 253 
 
 received in Ireland ; above all, the manner in -which 
 the Volunteer movement was organised, directed, and 
 controlled, are decisive proofs that the upper classes 
 possessed many high and commanding (pialities, and 
 enjoyed in a very large measure the confidence of their 
 inferiors. They were probably less uncultivated, and 
 they were certainly much less bigoted, than the corre- 
 sponding class in England, and as long as they consented 
 to be frankly Irish, their people readily followed them. 
 Occasional instances of deliberate tyranny and much 
 sudden violence undoubtedly took place ; but it should 
 be remembered that during the whole of the eighteenth 
 century the greater part of Ireland was let at very long 
 leases, and that the margin between the profits of tlie 
 tenant and the rent of the landlord was so great that 
 the former almost invariably sublet his tenancy at an 
 increased rent. The distress of the people was mucli 
 more due to this system of middlemen, and to their own 
 ignorance and improvidence, than to landlord tyranny; 
 and the faults of the upper classes, in dealing with 
 their tenants, were rather those of laxity and im- 
 prudence than of harshness. The absence of any legal 
 provision for the poor produced great misery, and had 
 a bad economical effect in removing one of the great 
 inducements to the gentry to check pauperism ; but, 
 on the other hand, it fostered a very unusual spirit 
 of private charity through the country. Absenteeism 
 ■vvas much complained of; but this probably sprang 
 more from the great tracts of confiscated land which 
 had been given to great English proprietors, than from 
 the systematic absence of the natives. The presiince 
 of a Parliament secured a brilliant society in Dublin; 
 ;ind in the country travellers represent the roads as 
 rather better than in England, and tlie country seats 
 as numerous and imposing. Tlic absence of rival 
 
254 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 authority and of religious intolerance, and the character 
 of the people, made the social system work better than 
 might have been expected. Good-nature is, perhaps, 
 the most characteristic Irish virtue ; and if it is not 
 one of the highest, it is at least one of the most useful 
 qualities that a nation can possess. It will soften the 
 burden of the most oppressive laws and of the most 
 a))ject poverty, and the only evil before which it is 
 powerless is sectarian zeal. O'Connell evoked that 
 zeal, and the bond between landlord and tenant was 
 broken. 'I have polled all the gentry, and all the 
 501. freeholders,' wrote Mr. Fitzgerald to Sir P. Peel, 
 when giving an account of his defeat — ' the gentry to a 
 man.' The attitude which the landlord class after- 
 wards assumed during the agitation for Kepeal com- 
 pleted the change, and they have never regained 
 their old position. 
 
 It must be added that another important train of 
 causes was operating in the same direction. The eco- 
 n.imical condition of Ireland had long been j^rofoundly 
 diseased. The effect of the confiscations, and of the 
 penal laws, had been that almost all the land belonged 
 t) Protestants, while the tenants were chiefly Catholics. 
 Tiie effect of the restrictions on trade had been that 
 manufacturing industry was almost unknown, and tlic 
 whole impoverished population was thrown for subsist- 
 ence upon the soil. At the same time the English 
 hmd laws, which are chiefly intended to impede the 
 free circulation and the division of land, were in force 
 in the country in which, beyond all others, such circu- 
 lation is desirable. One of the most important objects 
 of a wise legislation is to soften the antagonism between 
 hmdlord and tenant by interweaving their interests, by 
 facilitating the creation of a small yeoman class who 
 break the social disparity, and by providing outlets for 
 
ECONOMICAL CONDITION OF IRELAND. 255 
 
 the surplus agricultural population. In Ireland none 
 of these mitigations existed ; and the difference of reli- 
 gion, and the memory of ancient violence, aggravated 
 to the utmost the hostility. The tithes, levied for the 
 most part on the poor Catholics for the support of the 
 Church of the landlords, were another element of dissen- 
 sion. All the materials of the most dangerous social 
 war thus existed, though the personal popularity of the 
 landlords, and the prostrate condition of the Catholics, 
 for a time postponed the evil. The habits of disorder, 
 and the secret organisations which had aMsen in the 
 middle of the eighteenth century, continued to smoulder 
 among the people, and in the great distress that fol- 
 lowed the sudden fall of prices which accompanied the 
 peace, they broke out afresh. The land, as I have 
 said, in the closing years of the eighteenth century, 
 was chiefly let at moderate rents on long leases. The 
 tenant usually sublet his tenancy, and on the great rise 
 of prices resulting from the war, the sub-tenant usually 
 took a similar course, and the same process continued 
 till there were often four or five persons between the 
 landlord and the cultivator of the soil. The peasants, 
 accustomed to the lowest standard of comfort, and 
 e couraged by their priests to many early, multiplied 
 recklessly. The land was divided into infinitesimal 
 farms, and all classes seemed to assume that war prices 
 would be perpetual. Many landlords, bound by their 
 leases, were unable to interfere with the process of 
 division, while others acquiesced in it through laxity 
 of temper or dread of unpopidarity ; and others encou- 
 raged it, as tlie multiplication of 40s. freeholders in- 
 creased the number of voters wliom they could control. 
 In such a condition of affairs, the fall in the value of 
 agricultural produce after the peace proved a crushing 
 calamity. Large sections of the people were on tlie verge 
 
2o() DANIEL O CORNELL. 
 
 of starvation, and among all agricultural labourers 
 there was a distress and a feeling of oppression wbicli 
 alienated tbem from their landlords, and predisposed 
 them to follow new leaders. 
 
 When introducing the Eoman Catholics to Parlia- 
 ment, the Ministers brought forward two or three mea- 
 sures with the object of diminishing their power, the 
 only one of any real value being the disfranchisement 
 of the 405. freeholders. This measure greatly lessened 
 the proportion of the Roman Catholic electors. It 
 struck off a number of voters who were far too ignorant 
 to form independent opinions, and it in some degree 
 checked the fatal tendency to subdivision of lands. It 
 would have been well if the Ministers had stopped 
 here ; but, with an infatuation that seems scarcely cre- 
 dible, they proceeded in this most critical moment to 
 adopt a policy which had the effect of irritating the 
 Koman Catholics to the utmost, without in any degree 
 diminishing their power, and of completely preventing 
 the pacific effects that concession might naturally have 
 had. Their first act was to refuse to admit O'Connell 
 into Parliament without re-election, on the ground 
 that the Emancipation Act had passed since his elec- 
 tion. It was felt that this refusal was purely political, 
 and designed to mark their reprobation of liis career. 
 It was, of course, utterly impotent, for O'Connell was 
 at once re-elected ; but it was accepted by the whole 
 people as an insult and a defiance. O'Connell himself 
 was extremely irritated, aiid to the end of his life his 
 antipathy to Sir Robert Peel was of the bitterest and 
 most personal character. He said of him that ' liis 
 smile was like the silver plate on a coffin.' There was, 
 perhaps, no single measure that did so mucli to foster 
 the feeling of discontent in Ireland as this paltry and 
 irrational proceeding. 
 
CATEOLIC EMANCIPATION. 257 
 
 It was succeeded by another indication of the same 
 spirit. By the Emancipation Act the higher positions 
 in the Bar were thrown open, as well as the Parlia- 
 ment. A distribution of silk gowns naturally followed ; 
 and, while several lloman Catholic barristers obtained 
 this distinction, O'Connell, who occupied the very fore- 
 most position, was passed over. Among those who 
 were promoted was Shell, who had co-operated with 
 him through the whole struggle. It now, too, became 
 manifest that the Tories were determined to render the 
 Emancipation Act as nugatory as was possible, by never 
 promoting a Roman Catholic to the bench. For some 
 time imder their rule the exclusion was absolute. The 
 Eelief Bill was also accompanied by a temporary Act 
 suppressing the Catholic Association, and enabling the 
 Lord-Lieutenant, during the space of ratJier more than 
 a year, to suppress arbitrarily, by proclamation, any 
 association or assembly he miglit deem dangerous. 
 A measure of this kind suspended every vestige of 
 political liberty, and left the people as discontented 
 as ever. O'Connell declared that justice to Ireland 
 was not to be obtained from an English Parliament, 
 and the tide of popular feeling set in with irresisti- 
 ble force towards Repeal. Of all possible measures, 
 Catholic emancipation might, if judiciously carried, 
 luive been most efficacious in allaying agitation, and 
 making Ireland permanently loyal. Had it been 
 carried in 1795 — as it undoubtedly would have been if 
 Pitt had not recalled Lord Fitzwilliam — the country 
 would have been spared the Rebellion of 1798, and all 
 classes might have rallied cordially round the Irish 
 Parliament. Had it been carried at, or immediately 
 after, the Union — as it would have been if Pitt had 
 not again betrayed the cause — it might have assuaged 
 the bitterness which that measure caused, and produced 
 
258 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 a cordial amalgamation of the two nations. It was 
 delayed until sectarian feeling on both sides, and in 
 both countries, had acquired an enduring intensity, 
 and it was at last conceded in a manner that produced 
 no gratitude, and was the strongest incentive to further 
 agitation. In estimating the political character of 
 Sir R. Peel, it must never be forgotten that on the 
 most momentous question of his time he was for many 
 years the obstinate opponent of a measure which is 
 now almost universally admitted to liave been not only 
 just, but inevitable ; that his policy having driven Ire- 
 land to the verge of civil war, he yielded the boon he 
 had refused simply to a menace of force ; and that he 
 accompanied the concession by a display of petty and 
 impotent spite which deprived it of half its utility and 
 of all its grace. 
 
 The exasperation of O'Connell at these measures was 
 extreme. He denounced the Ministry of Wellington 
 and Peel with reckless violence, endeavoured in 1830 
 to embarrass it by a mischievous letter recommending 
 a run upon gold, revived the Catholic Association 
 under new names and forms, and energetically agitated 
 for the repeal of the Union. The proclamations of the 
 Lord-Lieutenant, however, suppressed these associa- 
 tions, and when he attempted to hold public meetings 
 he was compelled to yield to a prosecution ; the upper 
 classes strongly discouraged the new agitation, and the 
 Ministry of Wellington soon tottered to its fall. In 
 the beginning of 1831 he accordingly desisted from agi- 
 tation, ostensibly in order to test the effect of emanci- 
 pation upon the policy of the Imperial Parliament. The 
 Reform question was at this time rising to its height. 
 O'Connell advocated the most extreme Radical views, 
 and, in 1830, brought in a Bill for universal suffrage, 
 triennin^ Parliaments, and the ballot. He wrote a 
 
miSII DISTURBANCES. 
 
 259 
 
 series of letters on the question. He brought the whole 
 force of his influence to act upon it, and his followers 
 contributed largely to the triumph of the measure of 
 1832— a fact which was remembered with great bitter- 
 ness when the Reformed Parliament began its career 
 by an extremely stringent Coercion Bill for Ireland. 
 
 The social condition of Ireland was, indeed, at tliis 
 time most deplorable. Agrarian murders and tithe 
 riots, the burning of houses and the mutilation of 
 cattle, were of almost daily occurrence. Secret socie- 
 ties ramified over the country, and in a considerable 
 part of Leinster absolute anarchy was reigning. The 
 bonds that united society were broken, law was utterly 
 discredited, and class warfare and religious animosity 
 were supreme. 
 
 To a certain extent O'Connell was undoubtedly re- 
 sponsible for these crimes. He had first awakened the 
 Catholics out of their torpor, made them sensible of 
 their wrongs, and taught them to look to themselves 
 for the remedy. He liad begun a fierce political 
 agitation whicli propagated itself in various forms 
 through all classes of the community. He had broken 
 down'^the reverence for rank, set class against class, 
 lashed an excitable people to frenzy by the most in- 
 flammatory language, distinctly encouraged them to 
 refuse the payment of tithes, and palliated, or more 
 tlian palliated, all the violence to which that refusal 
 led. On the other hand, he \miformly denounced 
 secret societies with unqualified severity, and repre- 
 sented them as the most fatal obstacles to his policy. 
 ' He who commits a crime adds strength to the enemy,' 
 was one of liis favourite mottos, and he had few 
 greater difficulties to encounter than the Coercion Bills 
 which these lawless outbursts provoked. It should also 
 not be forgotten, in considering the connection between 
 
260 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 political agitation and crimes of violence, tliafc the 
 latter almost disappeared in Ireland during the Eepeal 
 movement, when the former was at its height. 
 
 Whatever opinion, however, may be formed about the 
 manner in whicli the blame of these outrages should 
 be distributed, they are in themselves at least suffi- 
 ciently explicable. A people, poor, ignorant, and 
 extremely excitable, had been urged into a furious and 
 most successful agitation. A fierce w^ar of classes and 
 a fierce religious animosity were raging, and at the 
 same time the w^hole administration of justice and tlie 
 whole local government were in tlie hands of men in 
 whom the great majority of the population could have 
 no confidence. In 1833 — four years after Catholic 
 emancipation — there was not in Ireland a single Catholic 
 judge or stipendiary magistrate. All the liigh sheriffs 
 with one exception, the ovenvhelming majority of tlio 
 unpaid magistrates and of the grand jurors, the five 
 inspectors-general, and the thirty-two sub-inspectors of 
 police, were Protestant. The chief towns were in the 
 hands of narrow, corrupt, and, for the most part, 
 intensely bigoted corporations. Even in a Whig 
 Grovernment, not a single Irisliman liad a scat in 
 the Cabinet, and the Irish Secretary was ]\Ir. Stan- 
 ley, wliose imperious manners and imbridled temper 
 had made him intensely hated. For many years 
 promotion had been steadily withheld from those who 
 advocated Catholic emancipation, and the majority of 
 the people thus found their bitterest enemies in the 
 foremost places. Their minds were now turned eagerly 
 towards I^epeal, and they were told by the English 
 Minister that the constitutional expression of their 
 desire would be perfectly useless, and that ' the people 
 of England would resist it to tlie death.' At the same 
 time, it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that the 
 
TITHES. 261 
 
 British constitution had no existence in Ireland. Sir 
 R. Peel, in one of his speeches in 1829, made an ad- 
 mission which is an instructive comment on the 
 common eulogies of the pacifying "wisdom of the Irish 
 policy of Pitt. He stated that in scarcely one year 
 since the Union was Ireland governed by ordinary law.* 
 The Habeas Corpus Act, which is perhaps the most 
 important part of the British constitution, was sus- 
 pended in Ireland in 1800, from 1802 till 1805, from 
 1807 till 1810, in 1814, from 1822 till 1824.2 There 
 was no public provision for the poor. There was no 
 system of national education except the Sectarian 
 Kildare Street Society. Above all, while the Catholic 
 priests received no payment from Government, the 
 poorest Catholic cottager was compelled to pay some- 
 thing to support the hostile and aggressive Church of 
 the rich minority. There are few methods of le\'ying 
 money which have been in general more unpopular 
 tlian tithes, this impost being, as Paley observed, 'not 
 only a tax on industiy, but the industry that feeds 
 mankind,' and of course the natural objections to it 
 were immeasurably intensified when it was levied from 
 a half-starving peasantry, who derived no religious 
 benefit from the ministrations of those they were com- 
 pelled to pay. A second rent, raised from the most 
 impoverished classes of the community in favour of 
 men who contributed nothing to production, and in 
 order that they might oppose the religious convictions 
 of those who paid them, was a grievance so monstrous, 
 so palpable, and so imiversally felt, that it could not fail, 
 when the Catholics acquired some measure of self- 
 confidence, to produce a general conflagration. In the 
 
 ' See Doiibleday s ' Life of Sir R. Peel,' vol. i. pp. 482, -183. 
 « Sir E. May's ' Constitutional History,' vol. ii. p. 270. 
 
262 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 eighteenth century the Whiteboys had been chiefly 
 organised in opposition to the tithes, and the landlords 
 were said sometimes to have instigated them. A 
 resolution of the House of Commons in 1735, which 
 was converted into a regular law just before the Union, 
 relieved pasture in a great measure of tithes, thus 
 throwing the burden chiefly on the cottier class ; and 
 there were some curious inequalities which Grrattan 
 exposed and denounced in the burdens imposed on the 
 different counties. The clergy, by their profession and 
 habits, were of course very unfitted to collect the tithes, 
 and the extreme minuteness of Irish tenancies added 
 greatly to the difficulty. Shortly before the tithes in 
 Ireland were commuted it was stated officially that in 
 a single parish in Carlow the sum owed by 222 de- 
 faulters was one farthing each, and that a very large 
 proportion of the defaulters throughout the country 
 were for sums not exceeding one shilling. Under 
 these circumstances, tlic clergy very naturally farmed 
 out their interest to tithe -proctors, who often exercised 
 their rights with extreme harshness, and became more 
 hated than any other class in the country. Grattan 
 had vainly laboured to liave tithes commuted, and 
 much ecclesiastical superstition was sho^^^l in defend- 
 ing a system which, on gTOunds of expediency and 
 grounds of equity, was utterly untenable. At last a 
 general conspiracy to refuse payment spread over 
 Ireland, and every kind of outrage was directed both 
 against those who collected and those who paid them. 
 The law was utterly paralysed. The clergy, deprived 
 of their lawful income, were thrown into the deepest 
 distress. Government came to their assistance by 
 advancing G0,000^. in 1832 for the clergy who had 
 been luiable to collect their tithes in the preceding 
 year, and it imdertook to collect the unpaid tithes of 
 
COERCION BILL. 263 
 
 1831. The attempt was a signal failure. The arrears 
 for that year were 104,000L, and of that sum, after 
 fierce conflicts and much bloodshed, the Government 
 recovered 12,000^. at a cost of 15,000L Scarcely any- 
 one ventured to defy the popular will by paying the 
 tithes. It was with difficulty that the ordinary legal 
 process of distraint was executed; and when in obe- 
 dience to the law the cattle or crops of the defaulter 
 were put up to auction no one dared to buy them. 
 A lawless combination, sustained by the consciousness 
 of a real grievance, completely triumphed, and the 
 presence of a Protestant clergyman was often sufficient 
 to demoralise an entire district. 
 
 As I am not writing a history of Ireland, I shall only 
 advert very briefly to the important measures by which 
 the reformed Parliament endeavoured to check these 
 evils. The first measure, as I have said, was a coercive 
 Bill surpassing in stringency any to which Ireland had 
 yet been made subject, and directed not only against 
 crime, but also against political agitation. Among 
 other provisions, it replaced the ordinary tribunals in 
 the proclaimed districts by martial law ; and it took 
 away over the whole of Ireland all liberty of political 
 meeting and discussion. That some measure of severe 
 coercion was necessary is incontestable ; for it was com- 
 puted that in 1832 there were more than 9,000 crimes 
 perpetrated in Ireland connected witli the disturbed 
 state of the country, and among them nearly 200 cases 
 of homicide. At the same time martial law, which was 
 equivalent to a total suspension of the constitution, was 
 a measure of extraordinary though perhaps not exces- 
 sive severity, and appeared especially so in Ireland, 
 where the atrocities perpetrated under that law in 1798 
 were still remembered. Tlie part, however, of the Coer- 
 cion Bill which excited the most intense and most 
 
264 
 
 natural animosity was that which was directed against 
 political action. The repeal of the Union, whether it 
 was wise or the reverse, was an object at which it was 
 perfectly constitutional to aim. Parliament had an un- 
 doubted right to effect it, and therefore the people had 
 an equally undoubted right to petition for it. If it had 
 been constitutional before 1800 to advocate a union, 
 it was equally constitutional after 1800 to advocate its 
 repeal. Agrarian and tithe outrages were chiefly reign- 
 ing in one of the four provinces ; but by the Coercion 
 Bill of Mr. Stanley no political meeting could be held 
 in any part of Ireland without tlie express permission 
 of the Lord-Lieutenant; Tlie King's speech, which fore- 
 shadowed the measure^ like two preceding ones, con- 
 tained a paragraph directed against O'Connell and his 
 agitation, and the Coercion Bill appeared especially ob- 
 noxious, as coming from a Whig Ministry in a reformed 
 Parliament, immediately after the Eeform Bill wliich 
 O'Connell had contributed not a little to carry. 
 
 It is scarcely possible, without possessing the de- 
 tailed evidence wliich is at the disposal of a govern- 
 ment, to pronounce with confidence upon whether the 
 state of the country required or justified these clauses. 
 It is not, however, surprising that they exasperated 
 O'Connell to the highest degree ; and at no period of 
 his career was his language more violent than during 
 the JNIinistry of Lord G-rey. It was at this time that he 
 talked of the ' base, bloody, and brutal Whigs,' and 
 described them as men ' with brains of lead and hearts 
 of stone and fangs of iron.* He and Mr. Stanley 
 hated one another \vith the most intense hatred ; and 
 Parliamentary oratory contains very few instances of 
 fiercer and more powerful invective than they ex- 
 changed. Sir Robert Peel and the Tories strongly sup- 
 ported the Coercion Bill, and the House was generally 
 
IRISH cnuRCii. 265 
 
 bitterly hostile to 0' Conn ell ; but the extraordinary 
 vigour and eloquence of his opposition had at length 
 their reward. The Coercion Bill was carried in 1833, 
 but a strong feeling against its political clauses was 
 aroused among Liberals ; and when it was intended 
 to renew them in the following year, there was a dis- 
 sension in the Cabinet, of which O'Connell was in- 
 formed, and which he disclosed in the House. The 
 result was that tlie Coercion Bill was only re-enacted 
 in a modified form and without the political clauses. 
 Lord Grey retired from office, and Lord Melbourne 
 became the head of a Ministry of which O'Connell was 
 the chief support. 
 
 The measures, however, which were carried by the 
 reformed Parliament were not simply coercive ; they 
 were also in a very large measure remedial. The 
 subject which, if not the most important, was at least 
 the most eagerly discussed, was the Irish Church ; and 
 tliore was none upon which O'Connell felt more keenly. 
 Himself a fervent Catholic, the main object of his 
 policy was to raise the Catholics out of the condition 
 of a proscribed and degraded caste ; and there is much 
 reason for believing that he would have given up the 
 notion of Repeal if he could liave otherwise secured 
 tliis equality. With the exception of his advocacy of 
 Kepeal, no part of his Irish policy injured him so 
 much in the eyes of the Englisli people as the opinions 
 he hazarded about the Church; but, judged by the 
 light of the events of our own day, they will be pro- 
 nounced very reasonable and very moderate. He never 
 appears to have advocated the witlulrawal of all re- 
 venue from the Protestants, nor did he desire any 
 fiuihcr assistance than glebes to be given to the 
 priests. The details of his proposal were more than 
 once varied, but the main object was to put an end to 
 13 
 
266 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 the grievance of tithes. The Church lands lie was 
 willing to leave wholly or in a very great degree with 
 their present possessors, and tliey would furnish a reve- 
 nue which with very moderate assistance from volimtary 
 sources would be amply sufficient for the real wants 
 of the Protestants. The tithe fund before all things 
 was to cease to be a tribute paid to the Protestant 
 Church. About its disposition there was much differ- 
 ence of opinion. Probably the most popular solution 
 would have been the simple cessation of the tithe 
 payment, and this would have been a benefit both to 
 the landlords and tenants ; but other schemes, such as 
 applying the fund to secular instruction or to build- 
 ing new charitable institutions, were advocated ; and 
 O'Connell appears finally to have settled upon the pre- 
 cise disposition which many years after his death was 
 adopted by INIr. Gladstone. ' ]\Iy plan,' he said, in a 
 letter to Mr. Sliarman Crawford in September 1834, 
 ' is to apply the fund in the various counties of Ire- 
 land to relieve the occupiers of land from grand jury 
 cess, .... to defray all the expenses of dispensaries, 
 infirmaries, hospitals, and asylums, and to multiply the 
 number of these institutions until they become quite 
 sufficient for the wants of tlie sick.' 
 
 In this, however, as on many other points, O'Connell 
 was considerably in advance of his age. With the 
 exception of a few Radicals, no class in England would 
 have tolerated such a measure. A growing school at 
 Oxford and in the country looked upon all interference 
 with Church revenues as sacrilege, and the famous 
 work of Mr. Gladstone embodied and widely diffused 
 what may be called the transcendental arguments in 
 favour of establisliments. Sir R. Peel admitted that 
 the State had a right to change and regulate the dis- 
 tribution of Church revenues, but he denied that it 
 
iRisn ciiuRcn. 267 
 
 hail any right to divert them from Church purposes ; 
 and, in the case of the Irisli Cliurch, he maintained on 
 the ground of the Act of Union, that disendowment 
 would be a distinct breach of faith. That Act, he 
 said, ' differs in this respect from an ordinary law, that 
 it was a national compact, involving* the conditions on 
 which the Protestant Parliament of Ireland resigned 
 its independent existence. In that compact express 
 provision is made which, if anything can have, has an 
 obligation more binding than that of ordinary law. 
 .... A riglit was reserved in that Act with respect 
 to tlie removal of the civil disabilities of the Catho- 
 lics, but no right was reserved to the United Parliament 
 to deal with the property of the Church of Ireland.' 
 
 The Tory party, therefore, whether they adopted 
 the extreme views of the new Oxford school or the 
 more moderate views of Sir Robert Peel, wore united 
 in resisting any diminution of the revenues of the 
 Cliuvch ; and they could enlist in their cause the two 
 cries of ' So Popery ' and ' the Church in danger,' which 
 were probably tho most powerful in England. The 
 Whigs were not equally united. A small but very 
 able section asfreed with Sir Robert Peel that the 
 power of Parliament extended only to the redistri- 
 bution, but not to the alienation of ecclesiastical 
 revenues. The main body, liowever, including Lord 
 Grey, Lord Althorp, and Lord John Russell, maintained 
 that Parliament had a right, when the wants of the 
 Protestants were adequately supplied, to apply the 
 surplus revenues of the Church to purjDoses of edu- 
 cation or of charity that would be beneficial to the 
 whole community. The first attempt to carry out this 
 policy was in the Ministry of Lord Grey, when a clause 
 was introduced in the ' Church Temporalities Act,' to 
 give Parliament th.e disposal of a surplus resulting 
 
268 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 from the grant of perpetual leases of Church lands ; 
 but this clause, which was very restricted in its opera- 
 tion, was abandoned in committee as likely to en- 
 danger the success of the Bill. The subject was once 
 or twice renewed during the same JMinistry, and the 
 opinion of the Government clearly pronounced, but 
 notliing decided was done till Sir Robert Peel came 
 into office. He was governing with a minority of the 
 House, and his Ministry was obviously ephemeral. He 
 brought in a measure for commuting Irish tithes in 1835, 
 when Lord John Russell moved as an amendment the 
 famous Appropriation Clause, affirming that any surplus 
 revenues of the Irish Church not required for the reli- 
 gious wants of the Protestants should be applied to 
 tlie moral and religious education of the people at 
 large, and that no measure concerning tithes would be 
 satisfactory which did not embody this principle. The 
 resolution was carried. Sir R. Peel retired from office, 
 and Lord Melbourne became Prime INIinister. 
 
 If it be considered as a mere party move, there has 
 seldom been a more disastrous mistake than that of 
 the \Vhigs in bringing forw^ard this Appropriation 
 Clause, and in selecting it as the question on which to 
 overthrow the first feeble Ministry of Sir R. Peel. 
 At the same time, there never was a more loyal or 
 moderate attempt to remedy a great injustice. By 
 the confession of all parties, the existing condition of 
 the Church was scandalous in the extreme, the number 
 and emoluments of the bishops ^vere absurdly out of 
 proportion to the numbers of their flocks, and there 
 were 151 instances of parishes containing not a single 
 Protestant. Few persons will now deny that the 
 Church revenues might have been justly diminished, or 
 that an application of a portion of them to the benefit 
 of the whole community would have strengthened the 
 
CirURCII REFORMS. 269 
 
 position of the Church. Tlie Ministry of Lord Mel- 
 bourne, however, soon found the task they had under- 
 taken beyond their powers. Lord J. Russell, as 
 Minister, duly brought in the clause as a portion of 
 tlie Bill for commuting tithes, but although it was 
 carried through the House of Commons it was only by 
 a small majority, and a majority of the English mem- 
 bers were against the Government. Mr. Stanley, the 
 most brilliant orator, and Sir J. Graham, who was one 
 of the ablest administrators of the Whijrs, with a few 
 others, had seceded from the party on this question as 
 early as 1834, and were strenuously opposed to the 
 Government. O'Connell ridiculed the small number 
 of the secessionists, quoting with great effect the lines 
 of Canning — 
 
 Adown thy dale, romantic Ashbourne, glides 
 The Derby Dilly -with just six insides. 
 
 But the ability and the political weight then with- 
 drawn from the Whigs were never adequately re- 
 placed. The violence of O'Connell, who supported 
 the Appropriation Clause with passionate zeal, pro- 
 duced a strong Conservative reaction in England. The 
 King was known to be opposed to the policy of his 
 ^Ministers, and the House of Lords by large majorities 
 rejected the clause. In the meantime the tithes ques- 
 tion continued in abeyance, and it was plain that until 
 it was settled there could be no real peace in Ireland. 
 There were not wanting those who urged the Ministers, 
 as the sole means of carrying their Bill, to avail 
 tliemselves of the fierce Radical spirit wliicli was abroad, 
 and which demanded the subversion of the House of 
 Lords or its organic change. Happily, however, those 
 who tlien guided the policy of England were deeply 
 and fervently attached to the constitution. Had they 
 persevered, a violent revolutionary spirit might have 
 
270 DANIEL OCO^'NELL. 
 
 arisen ; and, by abandoning the Appropriation Clause 
 in 1838, they probably saved the country from an irre- 
 trievable disaster at the cost of a ruinous I'^aitj humi- 
 liation. 
 
 But although this measure failed, two important 
 Church reforms were carried. By ' the Church Tem- 
 poralities Act of 1833,' the revenues of the Church 
 were redistributed and its most excessive abuses cor- 
 rected. Two archbishoprics and eight bishoprics, as 
 well as a number of minor dignitaries, were abolished. 
 Considerable reductions were made in the revenues of 
 the other bishoprics, and provision was made out of 
 the surplus thus obtained for augmenting small livings 
 and building glebes and churches. The Establishment 
 was thus made more defensible than before. If it con- 
 tinued to be an anomaly it ceased to be a scandal ; its 
 offices were no longer pampered sinecures, and its digni- 
 ties at last bore a fair proportion to the number of its 
 worshippers. In one respect the Bill was a benefit to 
 the Catholics, for the Church cess, which had been 
 levied chiefly from Catholics and dispensed by Protes- 
 tant vestries, was replaced by a tax upon the clergy for 
 the repair of churches. The unceremonious way in 
 which superfluous bishoprics were abolished gave great 
 offence in some quarters in England, and was one of 
 the proximate causes of the Tractarian movement. 
 A still more important reform was after long delay 
 and many vicissitudes at last effected in 1838, with the 
 concurrence of both of the great parties in Parliament. 
 I mean the substitution of a land tax for the old 
 system of tithes. By this substitution the burden was 
 removed from the peasants, who were nearly all Eoman 
 Catholics, and imposed on the landlords, who were 
 nearly all Protestants. Twenty-five per cent, was taken 
 off the clerical income derived from tit lies in con- 
 
TITHES coMrosiTioN. 271 
 
 eideration of tlie certainty, facility, and inexpensivc- 
 ness of its collection under the new system. 
 
 This measure was violently opposed by O'Connell, 
 who desired to see the tithes either simply abolished 
 or diverted from Church purposes, a course which would 
 undoubtedly have been the most popular in Ireland. 
 It was contended by the political economists that the 
 change would give no real relief to the tenant, as the 
 burden that was transferred to the landlord would be 
 met by a corresponding increase of rent. But this, 
 like all similar doctrines of political economy, is true 
 only in as far as land is dealt with simply and rigidly 
 on commercial principles, and in Ireland as a matter 
 of fact it l\as never generally been let at the extreme 
 competitive price. Of this fact the great place which 
 tlie middlemen occupy in Irish agrarian history is a 
 decisive proof. The Irish landlords readily assumed 
 the burden in consideration of the land tax being 
 applied to the support of their own Church, and the 
 rents were not, I believe, in general raised. It 
 is worthy, too, of notice, that when the Established 
 Clmrch w^as recently disendowed, no voice outside of 
 the landlord class was raised in favour of simply 
 abolishing the land tax, although that tax was said to 
 liave been in reality paid by the occupying class, and 
 although it is probable that the majority of that 
 class, if they had been consulted in 1835, would have 
 voted for the abolition of tithes. 
 
 The tithes composition measure had the disadvan- 
 taire of beinjr conceded, like most Irish measures, to 
 violence, and it has not proved a final arrangement. 
 Subject to these qualifications, however, it deserves 
 the highest praise. Few laws have ever been so 
 completely successful in cmdicating a great source 
 of crime and allaying dangerous agitiition. The 
 
272 DANIEL OCONXELL. 
 
 Protestant clergy, constituting a class of country gentry 
 where such a class was peculiarly needed, and dis- 
 charging many charitable and civilising functions to- 
 wards the Catholic population, have, when they have 
 abstained from active proselytising, been in general 
 eminently popular, and the signal devotion which 
 they manifested amid the horrors of the famine ob- 
 tained for them a large measure of well-earned grati- 
 tude. During the last twenty-five years, in the worst 
 periods of Irish crime, and in the worst localities, they 
 have invariably been unmolested and unmenaced. With 
 the exceptions of the priests and of converts, no class 
 of Irishmen has been very bitterly opposed to them, 
 and probably few great measures have excited less 
 genuine enthusiasm in Ireland than the English mea- 
 sure for disendowing them. 
 
 In addition to these measures, others of great import- 
 ance were taken. Tlie system of national education, 
 like all the branches of Irish administration, had been 
 for a long time grossly unjust towards the Catholics. 
 The Charter schools of Primate Boulter were distinctly 
 proselytising, and some of the most iniquitous of the 
 penal laws were those which forbade Catholics from 
 engaging in the work of education. The 'Kildarc 
 Street Society,' which received an endowment from 
 Government, and directcnl national education from 
 1812 to 1831, was not proselytising, but its manage- 
 ment fell into the hands of the Evangelical part}^, 
 which was rapidly rising in Ireland, and a rule was 
 adopted, making the reading of the Bil)lc without 
 note or comment compulsory in its scliools. Such a 
 rule was in direct contradiction to the teaching of the 
 Catholic Church, and it naturally created very general 
 discontent. In 1831, however, and 1832, a system of 
 national education was founded in Ireland, which 
 
NATIONAL EDUCATION. 273 
 
 continues, though seriously modified, to the present day. 
 It was chiefly devised by Lord Anglesey, Mr. Plunket, 
 Mr. Stanley, Mr. Blake, and Lord Cloncurry, and was 
 intended to give the whole mass of the people a united 
 secular education, while it offered facilities for separate 
 religious education. A large proportion, however, of 
 the Protestant clergy discovered that there were sundry 
 passages in the Old Testament and in the Ordination 
 Service which made it criminal for them to take part 
 in any system of education in which they were not 
 allowed to teach all their pupils the Bible, and they 
 accordingly set up a rival system, which still exists, 
 and they thus threw the national education to a great 
 extent into the hands of the priests. These latter, 
 however, gradually became more and more Ultramon- 
 tane ; it became one of their great ends to prevent the 
 members of the two religions associating, and to im- 
 pregnate all teaching on purely secular subjects with 
 tlieir distinctive ecclesiastical tenets ; and they accord- 
 ingly grew very hostile to the Kational Board. The 
 original system was much tampered with to meet their 
 Avishes. The Church Education schools, in which the 
 Bible is taught to everyone, are still unassisted by the 
 Government, but endowments have been freely given to 
 sectarian convent schools managed by monks or nuns. 
 But these unjust, because une(i^ual, departures from the 
 original design have not saved the national system 
 from the unanimous condemnation of the Catholic 
 hierarchy. On the whole, tliat system has conferred 
 upon the rising generation of Irishmen tlie inestimable 
 blessing of a sound secular education; it has contri- 
 buted in some degree to allay the animosity of sects ; 
 and it would, I believe, be difficult to cite a single 
 instance of a Catholic who has become a Protestant, 
 
274 DANIEL OCONNELL. 
 
 or a Protestant Avho has become a Catholic, under its 
 influence. 
 
 The liberal educational policy of the Whigs was 
 fully adopted and extended by the Tory Government 
 of Sir E. Peel. The College of Maynooth, intended 
 for the education of the Irish priests, is one of the few 
 existing institutions which owe their origin to that 
 Irish Parliament which is so often represented as the 
 hotbed of bigotry. It was founded during the vice- 
 royalty of Lord Fitzwilliam, when the French war 
 excluded Irishmen from France, and when the dread 
 of an influx of French ideas was very strong, and it 
 was a great boon to tlie Catholics, who previously pos- 
 sessed no means of educating their own clergy in their 
 own land. Sir E. Peel in 1845, besides granting 
 .30,000/. for building and improvements, nearly tripled 
 the annual grant, and gave it a character of per- 
 manence by cliarging it on the consolidated fund. 
 lie in the same yeav established the three Queen's 
 Colleges, in which a perfectly unsectarian education 
 was provided — an advantage of which, in spite of many 
 priestly anathemas, the Catholics have largely availed 
 themselves. 
 
 Two other measures completed the work of reform. 
 Although Ireland was one of the poorest countries in 
 Europe — although a very large proportion of its popula- 
 tion were continually on the verge of starvation — no 
 legal provision existed for the destitute until 1838, 
 when the Irish Poor-law was enacted. Althou^rh the 
 corporations had been legally thrown open to Catholics 
 in 1793, their constitution was so close that the admis- 
 sion was practically illusory, and the principal cities 
 of an essentially Catholic country were almost exclu- 
 sively governed by Protestants. For forty-seven years 
 after the Catholics had been made eligible not one was 
 
REFORM OF TOE CORPORATIONS. 275 
 
 elected into the corporation of Dublin. To remedy 
 this gross injustice, the Government of Lord Melbourne, 
 having carried a measure reforming tlie English cor- 
 porations, brought forward in 1835 a similar measure 
 for Ireland, but it was ardently opposed by Sir Robert 
 Peel, and rejected by the House of Lords. The Tory 
 party was naturally alarmed at the transfer of power 
 that would be effected, and O'Connell had injudiciously 
 predicted that the corporations would be ^ normal 
 schools of agitation.' The House of Lords was willing 
 to abolish the close corporations, but refused to appoint 
 new bodies, and proposed to destroy all municipal 
 government in Ireland, and to substitute for the mu- 
 nicipal authorities functionaries appointed by the 
 Crown. The contest between the two Houses was 
 as obstinate as about the Appropriation Clause, and it 
 continued till 1840, when it was ended by a compro- 
 n-iise. The Bill was passed, but only in a curtailed 
 and mutilated form, and lifty-eight corporations werr 
 abolished. O'Connell soon afterwards became Lord 
 Mayor of Dublin — a triumph which occasioned among 
 liis followers much vulgar and paltry glorification, but 
 which was really under the circumstances of some 
 importance — and a petition in favour of Repeal was 
 voted by a large majority of the corporation. 
 
 All these measures were the consequence of the new 
 political importance which the Catholics had acquired, 
 and of the pressure which they exerted upon public 
 opinion under the influence of O'Connell. Consider- 
 able however as they were, they by no means satisfied 
 the great agitator, who would be content with nothing 
 short of a complete destruction of the edifice of 
 ascendency, and who had strong special objections to 
 two of the measures I have enumerated. As the 
 mouthpiece of the priests, he denounced the Queen's 
 
276 
 
 Colleges as ' godless colleges,' borrowing the phrase 
 and adopting the argument of Sir R. luglis, a leader 
 of the most extreme type of Tory. His objections to 
 the poor-laws were of a different kind. He maintained 
 with great force of argument the most rigid and most 
 impopular doctrines of the economists concerning the 
 evils of guaranteeing relief to able-bodied paupers, and 
 he also argued that a legal provision for the poor 
 would check the spontaneous charity for which the 
 lower classes in Ireland were remarkable, and that the 
 workhouses would prove dangerous to female purity. 
 Tlie extent and intensity of Irish poverty he had no 
 disposition to underrate, but the remedies he proposed 
 were of a different kind. He flung the whole weight 
 of his influence into the temperance movement, and he 
 urged upon the Grovernmcnt the propriety of abolishing 
 titlies, imposing a tax upon absentees, and giving 
 assistance to emigration, which he justly looked upon 
 as the only remedy that was adequate to the disease. 
 Sir 11. Peel, on the other hand, maintained that the 
 lung sea voyage would always stand in the way of its 
 adoption to any considerable extent.' 
 
 AVliile maintaining these views on Irish politics, he 
 adopted on imperial questions the programme of the 
 most extreme Kadicals, advocating manhood suffrage, 
 vote by ballot, short Parliaments, and the substitution 
 of an elective for an hereditary Upper House. This 
 was i^erhaps the gravest error of his career, and the 
 extravagance of his opinions, and the incendiary and 
 vituperative language with which he defended them, 
 alienated from him the great majority of educated 
 men, and made his alliance witli the Whigs a source 
 of weakness to his friends. Nor does he, I conceive, in 
 
 ' ' AnTuiJil Eogistcr,' 1837, p. 70. At the lime of llio fjimino, how- 
 evcr, Peel recommcndt*! Government aid to cmigr.-ition. 
 
HIS DEMOCRACY. 277 
 
 this part of his career, deserve much credit for sincerity. 
 The levelling disposition, the envious hatred of supe- 
 riority and rank, which characterises the genuine 
 English Radical, was wholly foreign to his nature, and 
 is indeed rarely found among Irishmen. His loyalty 
 to the Sovereign was very warm, and not unfrequently 
 showed itself in language of almost Oriental servility. 
 His democratic crusade was probably simply an inci- 
 dent of his Irish policy. An Irishman and a Catholic 
 above all things, passionately attached to his country 
 and his creed, he attacked with but little scruple any 
 institution whiclrstood in their way. To make numbers 
 rather than wealth the source of political power would 
 be to increase the relative importance of Ireland in the 
 Empire, and of the Catholics in Ireland. In judging his 
 conduct, we must remember that his policy was chiefly 
 opposed by the aristocratic part of the State, that the 
 House of Lords had steadily and persistently defeated 
 or mutilated every attempt to raise the Catholics into 
 equality with the Protestants, that the bitterest in- 
 vectives were continually directed against him within 
 its walls, and tliat it appeared idle to expect that Irish 
 tithes could ever be abolished with its consent. Lord 
 Lyndhurst pronounced tlie Irish to be ' aliens in race, 
 in country, and religion.' O'Connell retorted by fierce 
 denunciations of an hereditary caste overriding for 
 selfish purposes the decisions of the representatives of 
 the people. The Tory party desired to restrict the 
 franchise in Ireland ; they had already abolished the 
 forty-shilling freeholders, and Lord Stanley long 
 afterwards ^ attempted to carry the same policy still 
 farther by imposing a system of registration so cum- 
 brous and so troublesome that, if it had not been 
 defeated by the Whigs, it would have virtually dis- 
 
 ' III 18 !0. 
 
278 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 francbised multitudes. O'Connell met this policy by 
 maintainiug the natural right of every man to a vote. 
 His opponents in England appealed without the 
 smallest scruple, and witli eminent success, to the 
 anti-Papal and anti-Irish feeling which was so strong 
 in the lower strata of the English population. He 
 retaliated by placing himself at the head of the wild 
 movement for radical reform, and he carried his pro- 
 pagandism, not only into the great towns of the north 
 of England, but also into Calvinistic Scotland. The 
 party was at this time singularly deficient in eloquence, 
 and Hume, who was its most influential member, wae 
 perhaps the most tangled and inarticulate speaker who 
 ever succeeded as a leader in England. ' Ho would 
 speak better,' O'Connell once said, ' if he finished one 
 sentence before he beg-an the next but one after.' 
 O'Connell, trusting to his marvellous powers of popular 
 oratory, defied religious prc^'udices and national anti- 
 pathy, and rarely failed to win a momentary triumph ; 
 but his language was not suited to a cultivated English 
 taste, and the revolutionary opinions he advocated, and 
 the coarse personal abuse in which lie continually 
 indulged, justly lowered his influence with all sober 
 persons. 
 
 The part wliich he played in imperial politics was, 
 however, far from contemptible. Perhaps the three 
 most important Parliamentary measures of the present 
 century are the emancipation of the Catholics, the 
 Keform Bill of 1832, and the establishment of free 
 trade in corn. The first was chiefly due to O'Connell. 
 In one of the most important divisions in the first 
 Parliament of William IV. his followers turned the 
 balance in favour of the second. He was an early and 
 a strenuous advocate of the third. Unlike those petty 
 traitors who, while professing to follow in his steps. 
 
niS CAREER IN PARLIAMENT. 
 
 279 
 
 have associated the cause of Irish nationality with the 
 defence of negro slavery in America, of foreign mili- 
 taiy occupation in Italy, of Imperialism in France, and 
 of assassination at home, he was steadily Liberal in 
 every part of his policy. Parliamentary reform, free 
 trade, the emancipation of negros, the abolition of 
 lio<^^in- in the army, the wrongs of Poland, the repeal 
 of The taxes on knowledge, were among the causes he 
 most ardently defended. Exercising an absolute autho- 
 rity over a large body of members, and availing himselt 
 with gi-eat skill of the divisions of parties, he was 
 always a great power in the House of Commons, though 
 he never succeeded in altogether catching its tone. 
 
 In debate he had to contend with almost overwhelm- 
 m<r obstacles. All parties wore in general combined 
 ao-ainst him, and all the great English speakers were 
 his opponents. On Irish questions he had the immense 
 disadvantage of speaking amid the derisive clamour of 
 liis audience, while his adversaries were cheered to tlie 
 echo. The great majority of English and Scotcli 
 members regarded him with the strongest personal 
 and political antipathy, and, with the exception of 
 Si,eil-who, though a very brilliant rhetorician, was 
 scarcely a great debater-no Irish member was able to 
 give him any considerable assistance. Almost all the 
 eminent men he had to encounter had entered Parlia- 
 ment very young, and had attained their skill in 
 debate and their knowledge of their audience by a 
 Parliamentary education of many years. Connell 
 came into the House of Commons at fifty-four; and a 
 ife spent in practising at the Irish Bar, or haranguing 
 an Irish populace, was an exceedingly bad preparation 
 for a Parliamentary career. But, notwithstanding all 
 these disadvantages, his success as a debater was very 
 great His boundless readiness, his power of terse, 
 
280 
 
 nervous, Demosthenic reasoning, his thorough mastei^ 
 of the subject he treated, the skill with which he con- 
 densed and pointed his case, and the rich flow of his 
 humorous or pathetic eloquence, placed him at once 
 in the foremost rank. At the same time, his speeches 
 were extremely unequal. It would be easy to point 
 out many that were masterpieces of masculine power, 
 but yet they were continually defaced by coarseness 
 and scurrility, by recklessness of assertion, and by ex- 
 travagant violence. In a discussion on agricultural 
 distress he scandalised all honest men by proposing as 
 the sole adequate remedy a compulsory reduction of 
 the national debt. He never obtained credit for a 
 high sense of honour, and he was lamentably de- 
 ficientc, in self-respect. The tact which he always 
 manifested in" dealing with the populace sometimes 
 deserted him signally in an assembly of gentlemen, 
 and, although none of his contemporaries could argue 
 a particular question with a more commanding power, 
 the general effect of his speaking upon the educated 
 classes in England was certainly far from favourable. 
 As a rhetorician he was surpassed by Sheil and 
 Macaulay, but as a debater he was perhaps only 
 equalled by jNIr. Stanley, who, though probably greatly 
 his inferior in general intellectual capacity, brought to 
 the contest a far purer taste and a still fiercer temper, 
 as well as a w^onderful command of graceful and vigo- 
 rous English, and an almost unrivalled dexterity in 
 dialectic encounter. 
 
 The debates on jNIr. Stanley's Coercion Bill were 
 perhaps the most splendid examples of his Parlia- 
 mentary powers. Assisted only by occasional speeches 
 by Sheil, he had to bear the brunt of all the eloquence 
 of Macaulay, Stanley, and Peel, together with numbers 
 of minor orators, while Lord Brougham was inveighing 
 
surroRTS lord Melbourne. 281 
 
 a<::ainst him in the other House. Notwithstanding: 
 these powerful odds, it seems to have been very gene- 
 rally admitted that in eloquence and in force he at 
 least held his position throughout. O'Connell de- 
 scribed the measure as a Bill directed against a single 
 individual — himself. The interruptions he met with 
 were sufficient to disconcert any less practised orator. 
 On one occasion his voice was completely drowned for 
 some time by an explosion of this inarticulate elo- 
 quence. When it had a little subsided, he exclaimed 
 with characteristic impetuosity that he was not going 
 to be put down ' by beastly bellowings;' upon which a 
 member rose, and gravely observed that the epithet 
 ' beastly ' was out of order when applied to the excla- 
 mations of members of the House. O'Connell pro- 
 fessed his willingness to retract the obnoxious ex- 
 pression, but added some apologetical remark to the 
 effect that he had never heard of any bellowings that 
 were not beastly. The Speaker decided that tlie 
 epithet was contrary to order, but not more so than 
 the ejaculations that elicited it. 
 
 His position towards English parties during a great 
 part of his career Avas one of neutrality. The Tories 
 he naturally detested, as the avowed enemies of Catholic 
 emancipation and of reform ; the AVhigs he at one 
 time defined as ' Tories out of place ; ' and there 
 was no Ministry to which he was more hostile than 
 that which originated the Coercion Bill. When, how- 
 ever, Lord Melbourne camo into power, O'Connell 
 gave his ]\Iinistry the whole weight of his support. 
 His opponents Lord Grey and Mr. Stanley were no 
 longer in the [Ministry. The political clauses of the 
 Coercion Bill had been abandoned. The Melbourne 
 party had for the first time had the courage, by the 
 appropriation clause, to attempt the application of 
 
282 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 some small parts of the Irish Cliurch property to 
 purposes of general utility, and the Irish Administra- 
 tration of Lord Mulgrave, Lord Morpeth, and Mr. 
 Drummond was eminently liberal and just. The 
 Melbourne ^linistry exliibited the rare spectacle of a 
 Grovernment opposed by the majority of the English 
 members in the House of Commons, and by the great 
 majority of the House of Lords, and at the same time 
 impopular witli the country, but kept in power by the 
 votes of the Irish members. O'Connell supported it very 
 loyally, and although in his position there was perhaps 
 no great merit in not being a place-hunter, it is w^orthy 
 of notice how cheerfully he acquiesced in his exclusion 
 from a Ministry of which he was for some time the 
 mainstay. On questions of persons and offices the 
 JNIinisters found him uniformly moderate and con- 
 ciliatory, and in this respect his attitude formed a 
 marked contrast to that of Lord Brougham. In 1838 
 lie refused one of the higliest legal positions in Ireland 
 — that of Chief Baron. The Repeal cry at this time 
 was suffered to sink, and in Ireland as in England 
 O'Connell steadily and powerfully supported the Mi- 
 nistry. 
 
 There can, however, be no question that his support 
 was ultimately a source of weakness. O'Connell was 
 the especial bugbear of the English people — as he him- 
 self said, ' the best-abused man alive.' As the typical 
 Irishman, Catholic, and Repealer, he aroused against 
 himself the fiercest national and religious prejudices of 
 larofe classes of En2:lishmen, while others were scan- 
 dalised by his violent agitation for democratic reform, 
 by his advocacy of free trade in com, and by the 
 coarse, reckless, and vituperative language in which he 
 continually indulged. The downfall of the Melbourne 
 j\Iinistry and the complete triumph of Sir R. Peel were 
 
HIS UNrorULAEITY IN ENGLAND. 283 
 
 due to many causes which it is not within the object of 
 the present work to investigate, but among them the 
 almost universal dislike of O'Connell in England, and 
 the undoubted fact that the Ministry subsisted mainly 
 by his support, were prominent. The appropriation 
 clause led to a great party humiliation, because it 
 was plainly repugnant to the wishes of the great 
 majority of the English people, and the anti-Popery 
 and anti-Irish feelings were chief elements of the 
 strong popular sentiment against the Government. It 
 would have been impossible to give O'Connell a place 
 in it without shattering it, and there was no taunt 
 against Ministers more applauded than their alleged 
 subserviency to the agitator. The House of Commons 
 seldom rang with more enthusiastic plaudits than when 
 Mr. Stanley, in one of his attacks upon the Govern- 
 ment, quoted these lines from Shakespeare : 
 
 lint shall it be that yovL, that sot the crown 
 
 Upon tlie head of this forgetful man, 
 
 And, for his sake, -wear the detested blot 
 
 Of murd'rous subornation — shall it be 
 
 That you a world of curses undergo, 
 
 IJeing the agents, or base second mOans, 
 
 The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather ? 
 
 Oh ! pardon me that I descend so low 
 
 To show the line and the predicament, 
 
 Wherein vou range under this subtle king. 
 
 Shall it, for shame, be fjpoken in tliese days, 
 
 Or fill up chronicles in time to come, 
 
 That men of your nobility and power 
 
 Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf, 
 
 As both of you — God pardon it ! — liare done? 
 
 And shall it, in more shame, be further spoken, 
 That you are fuohd, discarded, and shook off 
 By liim for whom these shames ye underwent? 
 
 With purely political classes the Repeal policy of 
 O'Connell was the chief cause of his unpopularity. 
 
284 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 English politicians of all classes were united against it, 
 and the almost unanimous denunciation of the scheme 
 by all sections of the English press has so discredited 
 it in England that it is somewhat difficult to do justice 
 to its supporters. In the opinion of the present writer 
 Eepeal in the form in which it was advocated by 
 O'Connell would have been equally injurious to Ireland 
 and to the empire ; but there was more to be said for 
 the agitators than is commonly admitted. It should 
 be remembered that O'Connell was old enough to 
 recollect that Irish Parliament which he desired to 
 restore ; that that Parliament, with all its faults, 
 contained a greater amount of genius and patriotism 
 than has ever, either before or since, been engaged in 
 the administration of Irish affairs ; and that, whatever 
 may have been the opinion of English statesmen, the 
 unbribed talent of Ireland was almost unanimous 
 against the Union. Canning had wittily compared the 
 project of restoring the Irish Parliament to a project 
 for restoring the Heptarchy, but an Irish politician who 
 knew that the Parliament had existed only thirty years 
 before, that many of its members remained, and that 
 all the local ties and associations it liad formed wore 
 still full of life, might be pardoned for thinking the 
 comparison more ingenious than just. It should be re- 
 membered too, in estimating the sincerity of O'Connell, 
 that he had made his maiden speech against tlie Union ; 
 that he liad declared in that speech that, so far from 
 desiring to purchase emancipation by the Union, he 
 would rather the whole penal code should be re-enacted 
 than that the Union should be passed ; that he had 
 reverted again and again to the subject before emanci- 
 pation had been carried ; and that in his dissatisfaction 
 with the TJnion and its results lie probably reflected the 
 judgment, or at least the feeling, of some five-sixths of 
 
niS AGITATIONS. 285 
 
 Hie people of Ireland. He advocated Repeal partly, no 
 doubt, on the broad ground of nationality, but much 
 more frequently on account of most definite grievances. 
 He repeatedly urged as liis main reason that he could 
 not obtain 'justice to- Ireland' from the Parliament 
 in Westminster, and by this phrase he appears to have 
 meant a condition of government in which, in the eyes 
 of the State, an Irish Catholic should be placed on a 
 level of perfect equality with an English or an Irish 
 Protestant. This aim has been of late years fully 
 attained, but the very magnitude of the measures wliich 
 Parliament has thought necessary to its accomplish- 
 ment is a justification of the complaints of O'Connell. 
 It was impossible that emancipation, conceded in the 
 manner it was, sliould liavo been accepted by the 
 Catholics as sufficient, and before the measure had 
 been carried O'Connell, in evidence before Parliament, 
 had frankly said ' that unless it was done heartily and 
 cordially it would only give tliem an additional power, 
 and leave them the stimulant for exerting it.' An 
 attempt had been made to deprive Ireland of all 
 municipal freedom, and directly or indirectly to dis- 
 franchise the great body of the Catholics. The Tory 
 party had so disposed of Government appointments 
 as virtually to continue the system of disqualifica- 
 tion, and when the Melbourne Ministry endeavoured 
 to act with equality between the two religions, and in 
 some small degree to modify the position of the Pro- 
 testant establishment, it was destroyed chiefly on this 
 very ground, and by tlie force of the anti-Irish and 
 anti-Catholic feeling in the country the Tory Mi- 
 nister was replaced in power. It was then, and then 
 only, that O'Connell threw himself heart and soul into 
 the struggle for Repeal. 
 
 That he was by nature an agitator cannot be denied; 
 
286 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 and, wliile lie was extremely ambitious, he was at no 
 time very high-minded or very scrupulous. One of 
 the most remarkable features of his character was the 
 steady and laborious perseverance with which through 
 years of difficulty and discouragement he could sub- 
 ordinate all his many-sided activity to a single am- 
 bitious aim. In 1798, when still a young and unknown 
 lawyer, he went through a very dangerous illness, and 
 it is related of him that when he believed himself to 
 be dying he was heard repeating those fine lines in 
 ' Douglas : ' 
 
 Unknown I die. No tongue shall speak of nie : 
 Some noble spirits, judging by themselves, 
 May yet conjecture what I might have proved, 
 And think life only wanting to my fame. 
 
 He was not one of those men who could ever, like 
 Washington, have been content, when he had con- 
 ferred one great blessing upon his countrymen, to 
 retire in the full enjoyment of his faculties from tlje 
 arena. He loved power and popularity too much. His 
 energy was inexhaustible. He delighted in being con- 
 tinually in the mouths of men, and in exercising that 
 power of swaying great crowds which is at once one 
 of the most intoxicating and one of the most dan- 
 gerous of human gifts. But when all tliis is admitted 
 it remains true that lie was much less the creator than 
 the director of the Repeal agitation, and that during 
 a great part of his career he acted rather the part of 
 a moderator than of an incendiary. He allayed agita- 
 tion during the short administration of Canning. He 
 acquiesced with scarcely a show of reluctance in the 
 necessary disfranchisement of tlie 405. freeholders. If 
 his conduct after tlie Relief Bill was very violent, the 
 measures that accompanied it, the fierce spirit which 
 a protracted stru5i_<.;le liad aroused, and the danger of 
 
HEl'EAL. 287 
 
 allowing such agitators as Feargus O'Connor to direct 
 the storm, do much to palliate his violence. During 
 the whole of the Melbourne administration he kept 
 the question of Kepeal in abeyance, and distinctly said 
 that he would abandon the notion if the English 
 Parliament would do justice to Ireland, In the second 
 Ministry of Peel, it is true, he threw away the scabbard 
 and threw all his energies into the struggle for Repeal ; 
 but even in 1843, in the very zenith of the move- 
 ment, he wrote a letter giving a decided prefer- 
 ence to the much more moderate scheme of a federal 
 Union, under which the Irisli Parliament should be 
 restricted to local affairs, while an Imperial Parliament 
 should manage imperial ones. The wishes of the 
 people and tlie policy of the Tories in a great measure 
 forced him into agitation, and lie abandoned fede- 
 ralism simply because he found it almost universally 
 unpopular. 
 
 These facts are sufficient to show that O'Connell was 
 not the selfish and reckless incendiary he is sometimes 
 considered. At the same time, in spite of considerable 
 hesitation and timidity in action, lie was ever at heart 
 a fervent Repealer. Endowed to an extraordinary 
 degree with that ' retrospective imagination ' which is 
 so characteristic of his countrymen, the recollection of 
 the Irish Parliament had been the earliest romance of 
 his life. His ambition had been first kindled by those 
 orators who shed a glow of such immortal eloquence 
 over its fall. In him as in many Irishmen the shame- 
 ful story of the Union awoke passions of the bitterest 
 and most enduring resentment, and the possibility 
 of forming an organisation that would restore the 
 Parliament had been present to his mind through all 
 the vicissitudes of his career. 
 
 Did O'Connell believe in tlie possibility of obtaining 
 
288 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 Repeal by agitation? To answer this question, as 
 Gustave de Beaumont observes, but a little knowledge 
 of human nature is required. We all know that the 
 tendency of our minds is to underrate the difficulties 
 of attaining any object of ambition in proportion to 
 the duration and tlie enthusiasm of our desire. The 
 lawyer after a few hours' study of a doubtful case will 
 frequently become entirely identified with it, will 
 persuade himself that its arguments are irresistibly 
 c6<^cnt, and look forward with the utmost confidence 
 to its trivimph. How much more easily may the poli- 
 tician become overconfident in a cause which has been 
 the dream of liis life, and underestimate the obstacles 
 in his path ! It is impossible to read tlie published 
 conversations of O'Connell without feeling that he was 
 naturally of a most sanguine temperament. It is im- 
 possible to follow his career without perceiving that it 
 was eminently calculated to foster such a temperament. 
 He had entered into politics upon an untrodden path, 
 W'ith no precedent to guide him, with no encourage- 
 ment to cheer him, with no experience to sustain him. 
 The most illustrious of his fellow-countrymen had pre- 
 dicted his failure. He had seen public opinion among 
 his co-religionists so faint as scarcely to be perceptible 
 t) the rulers. He had made it so terrible that the 
 resolution of Wellington and the ability of Peel quailed 
 beneath it. He had seen the society of his creation 
 unable to secure the attendance of ten members at its 
 meetings, and he had made it the ruler of Ireland. He 
 had seen the Eoman Catholic clergy equally submis- 
 sive and powerless, and by their instrumentality lie 
 had wielded the passions of the nation. Looking back 
 to such a triumph as that of 1829, encouraged by the 
 sympathy and admiration of the leading nations of 
 Europe, and idolised by the immense majority in his 
 
POSSIBLE SUCCESS OF REPEAL. 289 
 
 own, was it surprising that he should have entered with 
 confidence and witli cheerfulness upon the struggle? 
 His first object was to convince the people that their 
 efforts would be successful ; and in convincing them 
 he strengthened his own conviction. The occupation 
 of his life for many years was to throw the Repeal 
 arguments into the most fascinating and imposing 
 light ; and in doing so his own belief in his cause rose 
 to fanaticism. It is related of him that he suggested, 
 that but one line should be graven upon his tomb — 
 ' He died a Repealer.' 
 
 And was }iis hope so absolutely unreasonable ? Was 
 it impossible — was it even very improbable — that the 
 Irish Parliament might have been restored ? O'Con- 
 nell perceived clearly that the tendency of affairs in 
 Europe was towards the recognition of the principle 
 that a nation's will is the one legitimate rule of its 
 government. All rational men acknowledged that the 
 Union was imposed on Ireland by corrupt means, 
 contrary to tlie wisli of one generation. O'Connell was 
 prepared to show, by the protest of tlie vast majority 
 of the people, that it was retained without the acqui- 
 escence of the next. He had allied himself with the 
 parties that were rising surely and rapidly to power in 
 England — with the democracy, whose gradual progress 
 is effacing the most venerable landmarks of the con- 
 stitution — with the Freetraders, whose approaching 
 triumph he had hailed and exulted in from afar. He 
 had perceived the possibility of forming a powerful 
 party in Parliament, which would be free to co-operate 
 with all English parties without coalescing with any, 
 and might thus turn the balance of factions, and decide 
 the fate of Ministries. He saw, too, that while England 
 in a time of peace might resist tlie expressed will of 
 the Irish nation, its policy would be necessarily 
 
290 
 
 modified in time of war ; and he predicted tliat should 
 there be a collision with France while the nation was 
 organised as in '43, Repeal would be the immediate 
 and the inevitable consequence. In a word, he believed 
 that under a constitutional government the will of 
 four-fifths of a nation, if peacefully, perseveringly, and 
 energetically expressed, must sooner or later be tri- 
 umphant. If a war had broken out during the agita- 
 tion — if the life of O'Connell had been prolonged ten 
 years longer — if any worthy successor had assumed his 
 mantle — if a fearful famine had not broken the spirit 
 of the people — who can say that the agitation would 
 not have been successful ? Such a contest, however, 
 was too great to be compressed into the closing years 
 of a laborious life. 
 
 But then we are met with the ready answer — the 
 Repeal rent was the object of the Repeal agitation. 
 For years this rent was the ceaseless subject of the 
 ridicule of the writers of the British press, and place- 
 men of every order declaimed in choicest periods on 
 the iniquity of receiving money for political services. 
 All this affected indignation appears to me, I confess, 
 singularly ridiculous. To suj^pose that a vast move- 
 ment, extending over nearly the whole surface of 
 Ireland, sending its agents to every county and to 
 every parish, exercising its influence upon every elec- 
 tion, collecting statistics, redressing wrongs, preparing 
 petitions, and actively propagating its opinions, could 
 be created and maintained without a regular tribute, 
 is palpably absurd. The Repeal rent was necessar}'' 
 for the maintenance of the organisation, and it was 
 also the most imposing manifestation of its power. 
 No equally efficacious means has ever been adopted 
 of giving cohesion to a great political movement, of 
 securing the sustained and intelligent co-operation of 
 
THE REPEAL RENT. 291 
 
 the people, of exliibitiag beyond all question the 
 extent and the intensity of tlie public feeling, and of 
 proving its progressive character. To make O'Connell 
 the recipient of the rent was the only means of making 
 it thoroughly popular, and of preventing those disputes 
 and recriminations that would have been so injurious 
 to the cause. O'Connell was the idol of the nation. 
 He had relinquished for its service a lucrative prac- 
 tice at the Bar; he had surrendered all hopes of 
 promotion to the Bench, to which he would otherwise 
 have undoubtedly attained, and where he might have 
 spent his closing years in affluence and in dignified 
 ease. His sacrifices, his position, and his genius ren- 
 dered the tribute in the eyes of his supporters a fitting 
 reward for his services, and a fitting testimonial of their 
 affection. How faithfully it was expended his death 
 sufficiently proved. Though he had been one of the 
 most popular lawyers in Ireland when he practised at 
 the Bar, and though he had inherited a considerable 
 property from his uncle in 1825, he died broken in 
 fortune as in spirits. Out of the princely revenue he 
 had commanded he scarcely secured a competency for 
 liis children. He had received it from the people's 
 love — he spent it in the people's cause. 
 
 To these considerations two answers are given. It 
 is said that O'Connell lived in the most luxurious 
 manner, keeping open house, and exercising the most 
 unbounded hospitality, and tliat he also employed a 
 large portion of the tribute in bringing his relations 
 into Parliament. AVith reference to tlic first charge, 
 it might be sufficient to say tliat a man whose life was 
 spent for the most part in Herculean public labours 
 might well be pardoned if, in the rare hours of relaxa- 
 tion, he employed every possible means of stimulating 
 and invigorating a mind jaded by excess of toil. But 
 
292 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 there is a fuller answer than this. O'Connell was the 
 leader of a great agitation, lie had formed a system 
 of government which he designed to exhibit as eclipsing 
 the recognised government of Ireland. He was the 
 centre of a vast movement which radiated over three 
 provinces. For a man occupying such a position, 
 keeping up intimate relations with so many politicians, 
 and directing such various operations, great hospitality 
 was absolutely necessary. No one ascribes the hospi- 
 tality of the JPrime ISIinister, or of any other political 
 leader, to a spirit of self-indulgence. It is simply the 
 necessity of their position. And with reference to the 
 elevation of his relatives to Parliament, while there 
 can be no doubt that it was gratifying to his feelings, 
 it is by no means clear that it was injurious to his 
 cause. His grand object, as a Parliamentary leader, 
 compared witli wliich every other became insignificant, 
 was to inspire his party with perfect unanimity. In 
 no conceivable way could he more fully effect that 
 object than by bringing into Parliament men who 
 were personally attached to himself. His followers 
 were in general not very eminent or very high-minded 
 men, but it would be difficult to show any instance in 
 which, by procuring the election of a relative, he ex- 
 cluded a man of real ability. 
 
 Tlie career of O'Connell, during the Repeal move- 
 ment, divides itself into two distinct parts — his Parlia- 
 mentary life and his agitation in Ireland. He readily 
 perceived that to bring the Kepeal question at once 
 into Parliament would be extremely unwise. Parlia- 
 ment is, in the first instance, always almost unanimous 
 in opposing any radical change. It is only when the 
 public opinion has been thoroughly gained, when the 
 evils of resistance arc shown to be greater than those 
 which can flow from covicr ssion, and when tlie question 
 
KEPEAL AGITATION. 293 
 
 has assumed an overwhelming magnitude, that the 
 Parliamentary tide turns. Its change is then often 
 "both sudden and complete. O'Connell, perceiving 
 this, determined to abstain from discussing the subject 
 in Parliament, and resisted very resolutely the taunts 
 by which the English meiabc^rs endeavoured to urge 
 him to a division ; but a ; arty in Ireland, represented 
 by Fcargus O'Connor an'l the 'Freeman's Journal,' 
 argued so vehemently for a Parliamentary discussion 
 that in 1834 he was at length compelled to yield, 
 Tlio result, as might have been easily anticipated, was 
 an utter failure. Only one English member voted for 
 Ivopcal, and the majority against it amounted to nearly 
 500. The division discouraged him greatly, and 
 2:)erhaps somewhat damped the ardour of the move- 
 ment. 
 
 The real importance however of the Repeal move- 
 ment was shown outside the walls of Parliament, and 
 after the substitution of >Sir K. Peel for Lord Melbourne 
 as Prime Minister. Sir R. Peel, though one of the 
 least fanatical, had been one of the most formidable 
 adversaries of the Catholic claims. When Secretary 
 for Ireland, his eulogies of the Orangemen and his 
 exclusive promotion of anti-Catholics had earned for 
 him the nickname of ' Orange Peel,' and he and 
 O'Connell always regarded one anotlier with intense 
 enmity, both personal and political. He now declared 
 tliat there was ' no influence, no power, no authority 
 wliich the prerogative of the Crown and the existing* 
 laws gave the Government, that should not be ex- 
 ercised for the purpose of maintaining the Union.' 
 The Chancellor Sugden dismissed from the magis- 
 tracy O'Connell and some other conspicuous Re- 
 pealers, and it was clearly understood that no one 
 who held the obnoxious opinions had the slightest 
 
294 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 chance of obtaining any office from the Grovern- 
 ment or any recognition of his talents at the Bar. 
 Some young lawyers of promise selected this time for 
 joining the movement, and the people, whose con- 
 fidence in their leader was boundless, accepted the 
 defiance with joyful alacrity. Ireland was indeed now 
 fully prepared for the contest. There was no hesita- 
 tion, no eclecticism manifest in any party. The lines 
 of demarcation were clearly drawn. Those vacillating 
 and equivocal characters wlio were compared by 
 O'Connell to the monsters in the ' Arabian Nights ' 
 with green backs and orange tails had nearly all dis- 
 appeared. The organisation of the Kcpealcrs had been 
 elaborated almost to perfection, and had attained its 
 fidl dimensions. The Kepeal Society consisted of three 
 classes — the volunteers Avho subscribed or collected 
 10^. a year, the members wlio subscribed 1/., the asso- 
 ciates -who subscribed Is. The rents were collected by 
 the instrumentality of the clergy. The unity of the 
 organisation was maintained by Repeal wardens, under 
 the direction of O'Connell, who presided over assigned 
 districts. The exertions of the society were directed 
 to the extension of Kepeal influence at the elections, 
 to the preparation of petitions, and to the assemblage 
 of monster meetings. 
 
 O'Connell, after a time, devoted himself almost 
 exclusively to the agitation in Ireland, and in 1843, 
 the year of the monster meetings, he abstained alto- 
 gether from Parliamentary duties. During this year 
 he occupied perhaps the pinnacle of his glory. There 
 are three great instances on record of politicians, dis- 
 couraged by overwhelming majorities, seceding from 
 Parliament. G rattan gave up his seat and became 
 utterly powerless in the country. Fox retired from 
 the debate, though retaining his seat, and he too 
 
MONSTER MEETINGS. 295 
 
 became for a time little more than a cipher. O'Con- 
 nell followed the example of Fox, but he drew with 
 iiim the attention of Europe. In no previous portion 
 of his career, not even when he had gained eman- 
 cipation from the humbled Ministry of Wellington, 
 did he attract greater attention or admiration. Who- 
 ever turns over the magazines or newspapers of the 
 period will easily perceive how grandly his figure 
 dominated in politicks, how completely be had dispelled 
 the indifference that had so long prevailed on Irish 
 questions, how clearly his agitation stands forth as the 
 great fact of the time. 
 
 It would be difficult, indeed, to conceive a more 
 imposing demonstration of public opinion than was 
 furnished by those vast assemblies wliich were held 
 in every Catholic county, and attended by almost 
 every adult male. They usually took place upon 
 Sunday morning, in the open air, upon some hillside.^ At 
 daybreak the mighty throng might be seen, broken into 
 detached groups and kneeling on the greensward around 
 their priests, while the incense rose from a hundred 
 rude altars, and the solemn music of the Mass floated 
 upon the gale, and seemed to impart a consecration to 
 the cause. 0*Connell stood upon a platform, surrounded 
 by the ecclesiastical dignitaries and by the more dis- 
 tinguished of his followers. Before him that immense 
 assembly was ranged without disorder, or tumult, or 
 difficulty ; organised witli the most perfect skill, and 
 inspired with the most unanimous enthusiasm. There 
 is, perhaps, no more impressive spectacle than such an 
 assembly, pervaded by such a spirit, and moving under 
 the control of a single mind. The silence that pre- 
 vailed through its whole extent during some portiong 
 of his address; the concordant cheer bursting from 
 tens of thousands of voices ; the rapid transitions of 
 
296 
 
 feeling as the great magician struck alternately each 
 chord of passion, and as tlie power of sympathy, acting 
 and reacting by the well-known law, intensified the 
 prevailing feeling, were sufficient to carry away the 
 most callous, and to influence the most prejudiced ; 
 ^he critic, in the contagious enthusiasm, almost forgot 
 liis art, and men of very calm and disciplined intel- 
 lects experienced emotions the most stately eloquence 
 of the senate had failed to produce.^ 
 
 Tlie greatest of all tliese meetings, perhaps the 
 grandest display of the kind that has ever taken place, 
 was held around the Hill of Tarah. According to very 
 moderate computations, about a quarter of a million 
 were assembled there to attest their sympatliy with the 
 movement. The spot was well cliosen for the purpose. 
 Tarah of the Kings, tlie seat of the ancient royalty of 
 tj-eland, lias ever been regarded by tlie Iri:>h people with 
 
 ' The fullowing is Bulwer's description of the scene : 
 
 Once to my sight the giant tlius was given, 
 
 "Walled by wide air and roofed by boundless houren : 
 
 l^eneath his feet the human ocean lay, 
 
 And wave on "wave flowed into space away. 
 
 I\[etliought no clarion could have sent its sound 
 
 Ken to the centre of the hosts aronnd ; 
 
 And, as I thought, rose the sonorous swell. 
 
 As from some church-tower swings the silvorj- bell 
 
 Aloft and clear from airy tide to tide 
 
 It glided easy, as a bird may glide. 
 
 To the last verge of that vast audience sent, 
 
 It played with each wild passion as it went : 
 
 Now stirred the uproar — now the murmurs stilled. 
 
 And sobs or laughter answered as it willed. 
 
 Tlien did I know what spells of infinite choice 
 
 To rouse or lull has the sweet human voice. 
 
 Thon did I learn to seize the sudden clue 
 
 To the gmnd troublous life antique — to ricw 
 
 Under the rock-stand of Demosthenes 
 
 Unstable Athens lieave her noisy seas. — St. Sicj)hcHS. 
 
MONSTER MEETINGS. 297 
 
 sometLing of a superstitious awe. The vague legends 
 that cluster around it, the poetry that has consecrated 
 its past, and the massive relics of its ancient greatness 
 that have been from time to time discovered, have 
 invested it witli an ineffable and a most fascinat- 
 ing grandeur. It was on this spot that O'Connell, 
 standing by the stone where the Kings of Ireland 
 were once crowned, sketched the coming glories of 
 his country. Beneath him, like a mighty sea, extended 
 the throng of listeners. They were so numerous that 
 thousands were unable to catch the faintest echo 
 of the voice they loved so well ; yet all remained 
 passive, tranquil, and decorous. In no instance did 
 these meetings degenerate into mobs. They were 
 assembled, and tliey were dispersed, without disorder 
 or tumult ; tliey were disgraced by no drunkenness, by 
 no crime, by no excess. "When the Government, in 
 the State trials, applied the most searching scrutiny, 
 they could discover nothing worse than tliat on one 
 occasion the retiring crowd trampled down the stall of 
 an old woman who sold gingerbread. 
 
 This absence of disorder was partly owing to the 
 influence of O'Connell, and partly to that of Father 
 ]\ratliew. The extraordinary career of that wonderful 
 man was at tliis time at its height, and Teetotalism 
 was nearly as popular as Repeal. The two movements 
 mutually assisted one another, and advanced together. 
 TJie splendid success of Father Mathew was probably 
 owing in a great measure to the fact that O'Connell 
 had strung the minds of the people to a pitch of 
 almost heroic enthusiasm ; and, on the other hand, 
 O'Connell declared that he would never have ventured 
 to hold the monster meetings were it not that he liad 
 the Teetotallers ' for his policemen.' Tliere was scarcely 
 a Catholic county where these meetings were not held, 
 
298 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 and those who attended them have been reckoned 
 by millions. 
 
 In the same year a very remarkable evidence was 
 furnished of the extent to which the Eepeal opinions 
 were held by the intellect of the country in the creation 
 of tlie ' Nation ' newspaper. I know few more melan- 
 choly spectacies — no more mournful illustration of the 
 declension of the national party in Ireland than is 
 furnished by the contrast between the present of that 
 paper and its past. What it is now it is needless to 
 say. AVhat it was when Gavan Duffey edited it — when 
 Davis, Macarthy, and all their brilliant companions 
 contributed to it, and when its columns maintained 
 W'ith unqualified zeal the cause of liberty and nationality 
 in every land, Irishmen can never forget. 
 
 And over all this vast movement O'Connell at this 
 time reigned supreme. There was no rival to his 
 supremac}' — there was no restriction to his authority. 
 He played wdth the fierce enthusiasm he had aroused 
 with the negligent ease of a master ; he gOA'crned the 
 complicated organisation he had created with a sagacity 
 that never failed. He had made himself the focus of 
 the attention of other lands, and the centre around 
 which the rising intellect of his OAvn revolved. He had 
 transformed the whole social system of Ireland ; almost 
 reversed the relative positions of Protestants and Eoman 
 Catholics ; remodelled by liis influence the representa- 
 tive, the ecclesiastical, the educational institutions, 
 and created a public opinion that surpassed the wildest 
 dreams of his predecessors. Can w^e wonder at tlie 
 proud exultation with which he exclaimed, ' Grrattan 
 sat by tlie cradle of his country, and followed her 
 hearse: it was left for me to sound the resurrection 
 trumpet, and to sliow that she was not dead, but 
 ^^leepiug ' ? 
 
NOT A MERE DEMAGOGUE. 299 
 
 Among the popular methods of depreciating the 
 intellect of O'Connell, one of the principal has been to 
 represent him simply as a member of a very numerous 
 and a very much despised class, who are known by i^e 
 name of demagogues. Now, if by a demagogue is 
 understood a man who is merely an adept in mob- 
 oratory, whose life is spent in pandering to the passions 
 of the populace, in following and in interpreting their 
 follies, and in advocating the extreme opinions they 
 delight in, it is quite true that such a character is a 
 contemptible one, but equally true that it does not 
 apply to O'Connell. The truth is, that the position of 
 O'Connell, so far from being a common one, is abso- 
 lutely unique in history. There have been many 
 greater men, but there is no one with whom he com- 
 ivdves disadvantageously, for he stands alone in his 
 .s])here. AVe may search in vain through the records 
 of the jDast for any man who, without the effusion of a 
 drop of blood, or the advantages of office or rank, 
 succeeded in governing a people so absolutely and so 
 long, and in creating so entirely the elements of his 
 power. A king without rebellion, with his tribute, 
 Jiis government, and his deputies, he at once evaded 
 the meshes of the law and restrained the passions of 
 the people. He possessed to the highest degree tlie 
 eloquence and the adroitness of a demagogue, but lie 
 possessed also all the sagacity of a statesman and not 
 a little of the independence of a patriot. He yielded 
 frequently to the wishes of the people and to the 
 passions around him, but on points which he deemed 
 important he was quite capable of resisting them. 
 He believed the poor-laws to bo erroneous in their 
 principle and demoralising in tlieir action, and he 
 opposed them on the most unpopular grounds, 
 though Dr. Doyle, the ablest and most popular of 
 
300 DANIEL co??^^:LL. 
 
 the Eoman Catholic prelates, had come forward io 
 advocate them. He rejected without hesitation the 
 proffered alliance of the Chartists, though Englishmen 
 of almost every other class were inveighing against 
 him. He was extremely anxious to obtain the sympathy 
 and support of American public opinion, but he did 
 not liesitate mortally to offend a large section of the 
 American people by the zeal with which he threw 
 himself into the cause of negro emancipation, and by 
 his fiery denunciations of slavery. He strongly cen- 
 sured the existing system of insecure tenancies, and 
 anticipated very accurately the Bill which has recently 
 passed, saying, on one occasion, that ' nothing will do 
 but giving some kind of fixity of tenure to the occupier, 
 and especially an absolute right of recompense for all 
 substantial improvements.' But, although he often 
 used very violent and very unjustifiable language 
 towards individual landlords, he never encouraged 
 those socialistic notions about land which since his 
 death have been so prevalent; and he never forgave 
 Arthur O'Connor for having, as he lieard, a plan for 
 the ecpial division of land.* He regarded strikes as one 
 of the curses of the country, and in 1838, when they 
 were very prevalent in Ireland, and were supported by 
 numbers of his followers, he was among the most pro- 
 minent of those who denounced them. On this occa- 
 sion he seriously imperilled his influence. He was 
 scan^ely able to obtain a hearing at a meeting he 
 attended. He was liooted through the streets of 
 Dublin, but he never shrank from warning the people 
 against those combinations, and lie succeeded for a time 
 in putting them down in Ireland. 
 
 ' See O'Neil D.uint's ' rorson:il rv( callections of OTonnoll,' vol. i, 
 p. 60; vol. ii. p. 232. 
 
niS LOVE OF PEACE. 301 
 
 But the noblest instance of Lis moderation is fur- 
 nished by his constant denunciations of rebellion. An 
 orator who sought only for popularity in addressing so 
 bellicose a people as the Irish would have dwelt con- 
 stantly on the verge of treason, and have continually 
 dilated upon the glories of the battle-field. O'Con- 
 ncll, on the other hand, uniformly warned the people 
 against appealing to arms. He exhausted all his elo- 
 quence in contrasting the advantages of constitutional 
 agitation with the horrors of war, and exhibited at all 
 times, both in public and in private conversations, an 
 almost Quaker detestation of force. Perhaps no higher 
 tribute has ever been paid him than that of JMr. Mit- 
 chell, who declared that, next to the British Govern- 
 ment, he regarded O'Connell as the greatest enemy of 
 Ireland ; for it was altogether owing to his eloquence 
 and to his priucijDles that the Irish people could not be 
 induced to follow the revolutionary movement of 1848. 
 Ho infused into them a touching faith in the power 
 of peaceful agitation, which unhappily did not survive 
 liis defeat. He proclaimed himself the first apostle 
 of that sect whose first doctrine was, that no political 
 cliange was worth shedding a drop of blood, and tliat 
 all miglit be attained by moral force ; and he con- 
 fidently looked forward to the time when the might of 
 public opinion would prove invariably triumphant in 
 political struggles. As one of the poets of tlie move- 
 ment wrote : 
 
 "Wlion the Lonl created tlie earth and the sc;v, 
 
 The stiirs, and the glorious sun, 
 The Godhead {-polcy and the universe -woke, 
 
 And tlio mighty work Mas done ! 
 Let a word be Hung from the orator's tongue. 
 
 Or a drop from the fearless pen, 
 And the cliains accurst asunder burst 
 
 That fettered the minds of men. 
 
302 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 Oil! these are the arms with -vvhich we fight, 
 
 The swords in which we truf>t, 
 Which no tyrant hand shall dare to brand, 
 
 AVhich time cannot stain or rust. 
 When these we bore we triumphed before, 
 
 AVith these we'll triumph again, 
 And the world shall saj no power can stay 
 
 The voice or the fearless pen.' 
 
 The system of gigantic, organised agitation for poli- 
 tical ends which he devised was a discovery in politics, 
 and the example was speedily followed in England, and 
 tended very powerfully to discredit the conspiracies 
 and riots to which the imrepresented classes had long 
 been prone. The Corn-Law League, which obtained 
 for England the blessing of free trade, was in a great 
 degree an imitation of the Catholic Association of 
 O'Connell. 
 
 That the outrageous language he sometimes em- 
 ployed, his habitual use of the term Saxon instead of 
 Englishman, and his frequent recurrence to tlie worst 
 episodes of the past history of Ireland contributed 
 much to separate the two nations is undoubted ; but it 
 must be added that, wliile his influence lasted, there 
 was none of that malignant type of disloyalty which 
 has since then been so common. The people were 
 anti-English because of the Union or the Protestant 
 ascendency, but they always retained a kind of re- 
 versionary loyalty, and looked forward, when their 
 grievances were redressed, to a cordial union with 
 England. It must be added, too, that O'Connell 
 always drew a broad line of distinction between the 
 
 * Macarthy. Contrast the lines of the Young Ireland poet Davis : 
 
 The tribune's tongue or poet's pen 
 
 May sow the seed in prostrate men, 
 But 'tis the soldier's sword alone 
 
 Can rcao the harvest when 'tis grown. 
 
niS RELIGIOUS TOLEBANCE. 303 
 
 Sovereign and her ^Ministers, and there was probably 
 no period of his agitation in which the Queen would 
 not have been received with enthusiasm in Ireland. 
 If the measures wliich he adopted were often very 
 culpable, the great end of liis politics ^vill now be very 
 generally admitted to liave been good. His advocacy 
 of universal suffrage, liis crusade against the House of 
 Lords, his ferocious denunciations of the upper classes 
 of his fellow-countrymen, perhaps even his agitation 
 for Repeal, were all means to an end— that end being 
 the elevation of the Catliolics from a pariah class into 
 a position of equality with the Protestants. That 
 policy has since been fully carried out. No one will 
 now defend tlie old system of tithes, and few will 
 (piestion that the Appropriation Clause was just. 
 The Churcli policy, which was thought so extravagant 
 in 1833, has been carried out in 1869 with a severity 
 which O'Connell never advocated, and the security of 
 tenure which O'Connell claimed for the Irish tenant 
 has been amply provided by the Land Bill of 1870. 
 
 Xor can O'Connell be justly regarded as the mere 
 tool of the clergy. It is true that he first brouglit 
 them into the political arena and governed by their 
 means, but he was invariably the director of their 
 policy. He refused emphatically to submit to be 
 dictated to by his spiritual advisers. ' We are Roman 
 Catholics,' lie once said, ' but not servants of Rome;' 
 and he fully echoed the words of his secretary, ' As 
 much theology as you please from Rome, but no poli- 
 tics.' Though he was passionately attached to his 
 ovm religion,''and on most subjects very little apt to 
 restrain his invective, it would be difficult or im- 
 possible to find a single instance in which he used 
 offensive language against Protestants as such. Though 
 perpetually confronted witli the grossest Puritan 
 
304 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 bigotry, he exhibited himself a steady and large- 
 minded tolerance for every form of religious belief, 
 that raised him immeasurably above his Protestant 
 adversaries. ' In plain truth,' he said, in language 
 which there is every reason to believe expressed his 
 deepest conviction, 'every religion is good — every 
 religion is true to him who in his due caution and 
 conscience believes it. There is but one bad religion, 
 that of a man who professes a faith which he does not 
 believe ; but the good religion may be, and often is, 
 corru2)ted by the wretched and wicked prejudices 
 which admit a difference of opinion as a cause of 
 hatred.' He continually laboured in the spirit of 
 G rattan and O'Lcary to allay the religious discord of 
 his countrymen, accepted cordially every overture 
 made to him by Protestants, advocated the cause of 
 religious liberty in every quarter, and alone, of all 
 prominent Pomaii Catholics, succeeded in making 
 himself through his whole life the champion of the 
 Church, and at the same time a consistent leader of 
 the most advanced Liberal party. It is this aspect 
 of his career which seems to have most struck Conti- 
 nental writers, and to have made him ' a representative 
 man ' in liis Church. 
 
 The struirj>le a^j^ainst the Church of Pome in the 
 present day is not strictly theological. Its real 
 adversary is no longer the Protestant divine, nor. are 
 tlie weapons of the controversy those of dogmatic 
 polemics. A new method and severity of historical 
 criticism, by sapping the authority of the Church, and 
 a series of momentous scientific discoveries, Iw 
 familiarising men with nnti-theological conceptions of 
 the nature and government of the universe, are gra- 
 dually loosening its hold upon the minds of men, 
 while at the same time its power is immeasurably 
 
I!IS SERVICES TO CATHOLICISM. 305 
 
 diminished by a great political change. The theo- 
 logical doctrine of the Divine right of kings was the 
 basis of the government of Catholic Europe, but since 
 the French Kevolution this theological basis has been 
 generally repudiated, the whole sphere of politics is 
 fast passing beyond the empire of tlie Church, the 
 government of a great part of Europe rests upon 
 principles wliich she cannot approve, and the sym- 
 pathies of tlie people are in habitual opposition to 
 those of the priests. The great Liberal party that 
 ramifies over nearly the whole of Europe, and advances 
 side by side with education and social progress, is in 
 open or disguised antagonism to tlie Church, and, as 
 its triumph becomes every year more certain, the 
 priestly power is waning rapidly in lands where the 
 doctrines oC Protestantism are unknown. It was the 
 work of O'Connell to make tho Liberal party, in 
 Ireland at least, synonymous with the Catholic party. 
 Ey drawing clearly the distinction between rebellion 
 which the Church condemns, and agitation which it 
 does not condemn ; by advocating in Parliament the 
 cause of every oppressed nationality ; by claiming 
 religious equality for the Dissenters as well as for his 
 co-religionists ; by allying himself with the most 
 advanced democrats ; and, above all, by making his 
 cause essentially national, he succeeded in becoming 
 at once the greatest Catholic and one of the greatest 
 Liberals of his age. Three or four of the most gifted 
 intellects of France were engaged at the same time, 
 though w^ith very indifferent success, in advocating 
 this alliance, and they regarded O'Connell as their 
 great model and representative. On this ground three 
 of the most eloquent men on the Continent — Mont- 
 alembert, Ventura, and Lacordaire — have made him the 
 subject of the most splendid eulogy. The attempt to 
 
306 DANIEL O CORNELL. 
 
 make the Catholic priesthood the represeatatives of 
 sincere Liberalism has, as might have been expected, 
 proved ultimately hopeless ; but if O'Connell did not 
 ally his cause permanently with Liberalism abroad, he 
 at least succeeded in identifying it with Nationalism at 
 home. He contrived to place the Protestant clergy in 
 direct opposition to the sympathies of the people, to 
 neutralise all the good effect of the Liberalism of 
 Grattan or Curran, and thus to raise a formidable 
 rampart around his Church. Eeligious doctrines with 
 great masses of men depend very little for their ac- 
 ceptance on the unbiassed judgment of the intellect, 
 and very much Tipon the sympatliy and the esteem 
 inspired by their teachers, and a Church wliich has 
 sold the birthright will never obtain the blessing. 
 Tlie Irish Protestant Church, accepting the position of 
 an English garrison in an enemy's country, supporting 
 for the most part a policy of restriction and disquali- 
 fication, and opposing tlie national aspirations of the 
 l^eople, has occupied a position very similar to that of 
 the Papacy in Italy, while in Ireland, as in Poland 
 and in Spain, Catholicism has derived an incalculable 
 force from being the sjrmbol of national feeling. It is 
 probable, liowever, that this situation will gradually 
 be modified. Recent measures of disestablishment 
 and disendowment, by depriving the Protestant 
 Church of all tlie privileges it derived from the State, 
 have destroyed its invidious and exceptional position, 
 and removed a chief obstacle to an Irish policy on the 
 part of its members, while among the Catholic priests 
 Ultramontanism is becoming more and more ascendant, 
 and their policy is, in consequence, more and more 
 evidently subservient to foreign dictation. 
 
 With the great qualities of O'Connell there were 
 mingled great defects, which I have not attempted to 
 
niS DEFECTS. 307 
 
 conceal, and which are of a kind peculiarly repulsive 
 to a refined and lofty nature. His character was 
 essentially that of a Celtic peasant. Thou^ifh he was 
 the representative of an old family, and though he had 
 received a good education in France, he exhibited to 
 a singular degree the characteristic faults of an 
 uneducated man — coarseness, scurrility, cunning, a 
 power of passing on the slightest occasion from the 
 extreme of flattery to the extreme of abuse, a looseness 
 of statement whicli is not altogether explained by the 
 natural exaggeration of the Celtic mind. Of the 
 faults of taste into which he could fall, and the 
 manner in which he could expose himself to ridicule, 
 it is sufficient to say that in 1838 he published a letter 
 describing himself as having, during a sleepless night, 
 cried bitterly in bed because Lord J. liussell had 
 refused to adopt the ballot. The dedication to the 
 Queen of his memoir on the past atrocities of English 
 Grovernments in Ireland is written in a strain of 
 bombast that w^ould disgrace the pen of the editor of 
 a country newspaper ; and there are many things in his 
 other wTitings and in his speeches which are equally 
 puerile. As was almost inevitable from his mode of 
 life, his faults grew upon him with age. Perpetually 
 speaking before crowds of uneducated men, and per- 
 petually breathing the atmosphere of the most vulgar 
 flattery, his intellect and character were alike lowered. 
 It is indeed a grave, though a common error, to judge 
 speeches addressed to an uneducated audience by the 
 canons of a refined taste ; for a great orator will always 
 adapt his style to his audience, and will know that 
 coarse humour, or florid imagery, or claptrap declama- 
 tion may affect some classes more than all the elo- 
 quence of Demosthenes ; but when all due allowance is 
 made for this, it remains true that the language of 
 
308 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 O'Connell lowered the tone of public opinion in Ireland, 
 and the character of the nation" in the eyes of the 
 world. He represented, played upon, and strengthened 
 some of the worst defects of the Irish nature, and 
 there was very little tliat w\is either manly or dignified 
 in his later oratory. At the same time, his violence 
 was sometimes almost ungovernable. He often com- 
 plained with justice of landlord intimidation as applied 
 to voters, but it would be difficult or impossible to 
 find instances of more scandalous intimidation than 
 was practised by his followers at his instigation in 
 1835;* and the language he habitually employed 
 towards his opponents gave a bitterness to political 
 controversy in Ireland which it had never before 
 attained. One of the most liopeful circumstances in 
 the present condition of the country is that the gene- 
 ration is fast passing away w^hich rose to manhood 
 during his agitation. Few generations of Irishmen 
 have exhibited so little real genius. None lias been so 
 profoundly divided by sectarian and party hatred. 
 
 The result of his career w^as in another way pro- 
 foundly injurious to the country. The main object 
 of the legislative Union had been to withdraw the 
 Government of Ireland from the hands of the Irish 
 gentry, and one of its most important results was to 
 diminish their influence as tlie political leaders of the 
 people. By a singular fatality, the great advocate of 
 Eepeal continued this policy, and thus did more than 
 anyone else to make the Union a necessity. From the 
 beo:innin<]: of his career, when he crushed the influence 
 of the leading Irish lay Catholics on the question of 
 the Veto, to the end of his struggle for Eepeal, he 
 was continually employed in breaking or weakening 
 
 ' See tlie 'Annual Kcgittcr,' IS-Jo, p. 15. 
 
DITISION OF CLASSES HE rROPUCED. 309 
 
 the landed classes, in dispelling the feudal reverence 
 of the people, and in making the priests tlieir political 
 leaders. In the case of individual landlords, indeed, 
 he often showed himself anxious to conciliate, and even 
 fulsome in his adulation,* but he destroyed the sym- 
 pathy between the people and their natural leaders ; 
 and he threw the former into the hands of men who 
 have subordinated all national to ecclesiastical con- 
 siderations, or into the hands of reckless, ignorant, and 
 dishonest adventurers. If the people and the possessors 
 of property in Ireland were now cordially united they 
 could obtain any measure of self-government they 
 desired, and the Ultramontane policy dictated by the 
 priesthood, and the wild socialistic follies of Fenianism, 
 are tbe chief obstacles to its attainment. No truths 
 can be more obvious than that a cordial union between 
 Ii-ishmen of all creeds is the first condition of political 
 progress in Ireland, and that a demand for any measure 
 of Telf-govcrnment must rest upon the doctrine that 
 tlie public opinion of a country should determine the 
 form of its government ; but one section of the popular 
 leaders in Ireland are now straining every nerve to 
 break down the system of united education, which is 
 the best hope for the future of their country, and to 
 incline the foreign policy of the empire to the side of 
 everything that is anti-Liberal on the Continent, while 
 another section are advocating doctrines subversive of 
 those fundamental rights of property which it is a main 
 end of all government to secure, and a policy of 
 rebellion which, if it could be realised, could be 
 realised only at the expense of a massacre of their 
 
 The reader may find some curious instances of this in Lord Clon- 
 [•y's 'Personal Rccollectic 
 lonnell that * you may cat 
 -with a hogshead of vinegar.' 
 
 curry-s ' Personal Recollections.' It was a very characteristic saying of 
 O'Connell that • yon may catcli inorc fli.s witli a spoonful of honey than 
 
310 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 fellow-countrynicn. If at the present moment the an- 
 tagonism of classes and creeds is stronger in Ireland 
 than in any other country in Europe — if there is no 
 part of the empire in which genuine, modest, and 
 manly talent is so little appreciated by constituencies, 
 
 - and in which the demagogue and the adventurer can 
 find so favourable a field — this is to be mainly attri- 
 buted to the policy of Pitt, and to the agitation of 
 
 4-0'Connell. By grave faults on both sides the natural 
 ties that united classes have been broken, and until 
 they are in some degree formed anew there is never 
 likely to be a consistent and successful national policy 
 in Ireland. 
 
 I have dwelt at considerable length upon the faults 
 and merits of O'Connell, for the position I would 
 venture to assign him is much higher tlian that which 
 is usually conceded him in England, and there are 
 few men who are estimated more differently in England 
 and on the Continent. It is impossible to judge Jus 
 position without taking into account the place he 
 occupied with reference to the progressive party in his 
 Church, and the depreciatory tone adopted by his 
 many enemies has naturally made a deep impression 
 on the public mind. There is also a constant tendency 
 — especially among intellectual people — to underrate 
 those wliose genius is employed chiefly in action, 
 especially when tlie low^er orders are subjects of that 
 action. 
 
 If I wcj'e asked to point out a personage in history 
 who in intellectual and moral temperament bore a 
 striking resemblance to O'Connell, I should select one 
 who differed from him in principles as widely as any 
 that could be named, and wlio has played a far greater 
 and far nobler part in the affairs of men — I mean 
 Martin Luther. There is something in the very 
 
COMPARED WITH LUTHER. 311 
 
 appearance of these men exhibiting the same nature— 
 a nature of indomitable strength, genial rather than 
 refined, massive and precious, but somewhat coarse- 
 grained. In each, character and intellect so happily 
 harmonised that it were hard to say how much their 
 success was due to force of will, and how much to 
 force of mind. In each was the same instinctive tact 
 in governing great masses of men, the same calculated 
 audacity, the same intuitive perception of opportunities, 
 the same art in inspiring and in retaining confidence. 
 Each displayed an eloquence of the most popular 
 character, nervous, pointed, but incorrect; thrilling 
 and.fascinating, by the glow of feeling that pervaded 
 it; repelling and irritating, by the coarseness, the 
 vituperation, the vulgarity into which it degenerated. 
 Each was associated with men of purer intellectuality 
 and more heroic enthusiasm, yet each, if measured by 
 his achievements, towers above all his associates. Neither 
 can be judged fairly by a microscopic and a detailed 
 criticism. "^It is easy to detect acts that cannot be 
 justified, language that can scarcely be palliated, in- 
 consistencies that it is difticult to explain. But, though 
 their opponents will never be at a loss for subject- 
 matter for their attacks, though their admirers will 
 always find much that they must deeply deplore, and 
 though the sentimentalist will turn with disgust from 
 men in whose temperaments the gi'osser elements so 
 largely mingled, yet the stamp of true genius is upon 
 botli, and the aureole that marks those who have 
 laboured faithfully for mankind will ever circle their 
 memories. The magnitude and the unity of their 
 lives become only visible when distance has enabled 
 the eye to discover their full proportions, and when 
 experience has shown how miserable were the efforts of 
 their successors to wield their sceptres. Nay, in the 
 
312 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 very inequalities of their tempers there is much to 
 attract sympathy. Luther, hurling- his unmeasured 
 invective against some royal opponent, and then pour- 
 ing out a strain of the gentlest tenderness over his 
 child — O'Connell, listening with calm complacency to 
 the crowd of orators who * were advertising ' him by 
 their denunciations, yet galled to the quick by the 
 sarcasm of an old friend — present a resemblance as 
 pleasing as it is striking. Both were men of powerful 
 intellects and of warm liearts, and both, with great 
 though unequal faults, laboured with a firm faith to 
 realise objects which they believed to be good.^ 
 
 The Government was extremely alarmed at the 
 success of the monster meetings, and they at length 
 determined by a bold measure to crush the agitation. 
 A meeting had been advertised for Sunday, October 3, 
 1843, to be held at Clontarf. It would ]iave been pro- 
 bably one of the very greatest of the series, for Clon- 
 tarf is in the immediate vicinity of Dublin. The 
 meeting had been announced about a fortnight before. 
 The Government took no notice of it till the afternoon 
 of tlie 2nd, when the roads were thronged with the 
 excited populace, who had come from a distance to 
 attend it, and a proclamation was then issued forbidding- 
 it. It is said that the cannon of ' the Pigeon-house ' 
 were actually turned upon Clontarf. The natural con- 
 sequence of this proceeding of the Grovernment of Sir 
 11. Peel would have been a breach of the peace and 
 a massacre more sanguinary than that of Manchester, 
 and this would almost certainly have taken place but 
 
 * ' Oh for a great man,' said Coleridge, ' but one really great man, 
 who could feel the weight and the power of a principle, and unflinch- 
 ingly put it into act ! See how triumphant in debate and action 
 O'Connell is. Why ? Because he asserts a broad principle, and acts 
 up to, rests all his body on ir, and has faith in it.' — Tuble Talk, 
 
HIS TRIAL. 313 
 
 for the extraordinary promptitude of O'Connell. He 
 at once despatched messengers in all directions to 
 apprise the people, and by exerting all his wonderful 
 influence induced them peaceably to disperse. 
 
 The Government prosecution followed close on the 
 proclamation. It was a charge of conspiracy, or, in 
 other words, of the employment of seditious language, 
 against O'Connell, his son, and five of his principal 
 followers. The trial was extremely protracted ; but its 
 monotony was relieved by much brilliant oratory, ])y a 
 great deal of very curious cross-examination, and by 
 an amusing episode occasioned by the Attorney-General, 
 who sent a challenge to one of the opposing counsel, 
 which that gentleman submitted to the Bench. Tho 
 two most eloquent speeches delivered were beyond all 
 (piestion those of Shell and Mr. Whiteside. A great 
 luimber of charges have l)een brought against this trial 
 which have elicited much controversy. It is sufficient to 
 state tlie facts that are admitted. An error, which at 
 least one Irish judge believed not to have been unin- 
 tentional, was made in the panel of the jury, and by 
 til is error more than twenty Catholics were excluded 
 irv)]n tlie juror list. Of the Catholics whose names 
 v^^ere called all were objected to by the Government 
 prosecutor, and accordingly there was not a single 
 Koman Catholic on the jury which tried the greatest 
 Catholic of his age in the metropolis of an essenti- 
 ally Catholic coinitry, and at a time when sectarian 
 animosity was at its height. A.fter a charge from the 
 Chief Justice which JMacaulay afterwards compared to 
 the displays of judicial partisanship in the State trials 
 of Charles II., O'Connell was found guilty, and con- 
 demned to two years' imprisonment, together with 
 a fine — a sentence apainst which he appealed to the 
 Jjords. 
 
314 DANIEL O'CONNELL, 
 
 Some months elapsed before the appeal could be 
 heard, and during the earlier part of that time O'Connell 
 was in great, thougli, as it proved, needless alarm, lest 
 the people should have broken into open rebellion. 
 He despatched from prison the most emphatic addresses, 
 exhorting them to tranquillit}^ and he soon found that 
 they were quite willing to respond to his appeal. Their 
 reception of tlie Government prosecution was very 
 striking. Tliey remained perfectly tranquil ; but the 
 rent, which in the fourteen weeks before the trial had 
 been 6,G79/., rose in the fourteen weeks that followed 
 it to 25,712/. In the first week it was nearly 2,G00/. 
 
 At the beginning of tlic trial, Mr. Smith- OlBrien 
 oave for the first time his formal adliesion to the 
 movement, and, during the imprisonment of O'Connell, 
 the leadership of the party devolved upon him. 
 Though very deficient, both in oratorical abilities and 
 in judgment, he o])tained great weight with the peo]>le 
 from the charm that ever liangs around a chivalrous 
 and polished gentleman, and frc>m tlie transparent 
 j)in"it3^ of a patriotism on which suspicion has never 
 rested; and he was also a skilful and a ready writci. 
 Of the wisdom lie displayed in one unhappy episode of 
 liis career there are not likely to be two opinions, but 
 it should not be forgotten that it was the ceaseless 
 labour of his life to inculcate the importance of self- 
 reliance, to dissociate the national cause from th.e 
 claptrap and the bombast ])y which it was so frequently 
 disfigured, and to teach the people that Liberal poli- 
 tics are only truly adopted when they are applied 
 v;ithout respect of persons and without fear of conse- 
 quences. It was thus that he laboured during the 
 lifetime of O'Connell to check the place-hunting and 
 the boasting that disgraced the Repeal cause, and that 
 near the close of his life he calmly and fearlessly 
 
IIEYERSAL OF HIS SENTENCE. 315 
 
 risked all tlic popularity which years of suffering had 
 gained him, by opposing those who sought to identify 
 Irish Liberalism with Italian despotism, and to draw 
 down upon their country the horrors of a French 
 invasion. Few politicians have sacrificed more to 
 what they believed to be right, and the invariable 
 inte"-rity of his motives has more tban redeemed the 
 errors of his judgment. 
 
 The appeal to the House of Lords was heard in 
 September 1844. On occasions of this kind, when the 
 House sits to review the decisions of the law courts, 
 it is customary to leave the matter entirely in the 
 liands of the Law Lords, and the permanent mainte- 
 nance of the judicial authority of tlie House obviously 
 depends upon the observance of this custom ; but there 
 have been instances in which ]>ay Lords have taken part 
 in the decision.* O'Connell had always been the bitter 
 enemy of the House of Lords. He had inveighed 
 against it in the grossest terms. He had given many 
 of its members cause for the deepest personal animosity. 
 When the appeal was to be heard, a number of Lay 
 Lords came down to the House to vote against him. 
 The five Law Lords, who were present, first delivered 
 their opinions- two of them confirming the sentence 
 of the Irish court, three of them condemning it. Lord 
 Denman, in the c(»urse of liis judgment, stigmatised 
 the proceedings in Ireland in the strongest language. 
 When the Law Lords had delivered their judgment, 
 Lord Wharncliffe rose and appealed to the other 
 members of the House not to permit their personal 
 .'.r r^wlitical feelings to influence a judicial sentence. 
 The appeal struck the right chord. The high and 
 honourable feeling that has almost always characterised 
 the House of Lords reasserted its sway. Every Lay 
 
 • E.g. in tho famous Douglass caso in 17G9. 
 
316 
 
 Lord left the House, and their bitterest living enemy 
 was freed by their forbearance. 
 
 The news of the reversal of the sentence was re- 
 ceived in Ireland with a bur.st of tlie most enthusiastic 
 acclamations — bonfires blazed over the country — 
 O'Connell passed through the streets of Dublin in a 
 triumphal procession. A perfect delirium of excite- 
 ment prevailed among his followers ; yet, notwith- 
 standing these ebullitions, the spell of his power was 
 in a great measure broken. It Avas said that the 
 months of imprisonment he had undergone had shat- 
 tered his liealth and impaired his energies. For the 
 first time for many years, serious dissensions arose 
 among liis followers. The Young Ireland party exer- 
 cised considerable influence, and appeared to exercise 
 far more from the great talent it displayed. The 
 ' Nation ' newspaper espoused its cause. It possessed 
 also one very brilliant orator, Thomas Francis 3Ieagher, 
 a young man whose eloquence w^as beyond comparison 
 superior to that of any other rising speaker in the 
 country, and wlio, had he been placed in circumstances 
 favourable to tlie development of his talent, might 
 perhaps have at length taken his place among the 
 great orators of Ireland. The Young Irclanders, like 
 the leaders in the Kebellion of 1798, were chiefly 
 Protestants — very young, and very enthusiastic men.^ 
 They differed in the first place from O'Connell on the 
 question whether Eepealers should accept ofiices or 
 promotion from tlie Government. They argued that 
 those who had done so had invariably abandoned the 
 cause — that a place-hunting spirit had crept into the 
 society — that the sordid and corrupt clement it pro- 
 duced was actually very great, and the discredit and 
 suspicion it attracted much greater. ^ On the other 
 hand, O'Connell maintained that some concessions were 
 
THE YOUNG IRELANDERS. 317 
 
 accessary to the mainleuance of the movement in its 
 full extent — that the possession of place was the pos- 
 session of power, and that it would be peculiarly in- 
 consistent in Repealers to lefnse it, because one of 
 their great grievances had always been that the 
 Government uniformly confined its bounties to ttieir 
 opponents. But the great characteristic of the Young 
 Ireland party was its advocacy of rebellion. It was 
 far more independent of the priests than O'Connell, 
 and was little swayed by theological censures, and its 
 sympathies were more with 1798 than with 1782. It 
 was thus (to take but one instance from many) that 
 :\Ieagher declared in one of his speeches, ' There arc 
 but two plans for our consideration — the one within 
 the law, the other without the law. Let us take the 
 latter. I will then ask you. Is an insurrection practi- 
 cable? Prove to me that it is, and I for one will vote 
 for it this very night. You know well, my friends, 
 that I am not one of those tame moralists who say that 
 liberty is not worth a drop of blood. INlcn who sub- 
 scribe to such a maxim are fit for out-of-door relief, 
 and for notliing better. Against this miserable maxim 
 the noblest virtue that has saved and sanctified hu- 
 manity appears in judgment. From the blue waters 
 of the Bay of Salamis— from the valley over which the 
 sun stood still and lit the Israelites to victory— from 
 tlie cathedral in which the sword of Poland has been 
 bheathed in the shroud of Kosciusko— from the convent 
 of St. Isidore, where the fiery hand that rent the 
 ensign of St. George upon the plains of Ulster has 
 crumbled into dust— from the sands of the desert, 
 where the wild genius of the Algerine so long has 
 scared the eagle of the Pyrenees— from the ducal 
 palace in this kingdom, where the memory of the 
 gallant Geraldine enhances more than royal favour 
 
318 PANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 the nobility of Lis race — from the solitary grave within 
 this mute city which a dying request has left without 
 an epitaph — oh ! from every spot where heroism has 
 had a sacrifice or a triumph, a voice breaks in upon 
 the cringing crowd that cherishes this maxim, crying- 
 out, Away with it ! away with it ! ' 
 
 It will be remembered that the maxim thus de- 
 nounced was one which O'Connell lost no opportunity 
 of extolling. 
 
 The influence of the Young Irelanders w^as more 
 apparent than real, for when the appeal to arms was 
 actually made it proved absolutely impotent against 
 the principles with which O'Connell had leavened the 
 people, lliis dissension, however, greatly injured tlie 
 Eepeal cause. One of those reactions of despondency 
 to wdiich all popular movements are liable began, and 
 the disputes about the Federal scheme in 1844 still 
 further weakened the popular enthusiasm. 
 
 These disputes preyed greatly on O'Connell's mind, 
 and the period that followed his release presents a 
 confused and chaotic picture, very unlike tliat of 
 former years. His health suddenly gave w^ay. Cease- 
 less labour and excessive care had broken a constitution 
 that was naturally of Herculean strength. His voice, 
 which had once pealed with such thrilling power over 
 assembled thousands, sank into an almost inaudible 
 whisper. His hopes, which had once been so buoyant 
 that they rose above all obstacles, began now to fail. 
 Famine came w^ith fearful rapidity upon the land, and 
 O'Connell foresaw the evil, while he could not avert it. 
 The chill of death w^as upon him — the certainty of 
 failure wrung his soul witli an agony the more bitter 
 because of the sanguine hope that had preceded it. 
 An unutterable, unmitigated gloom sank upon liis 
 mind, and withered and destroyed his energies. Weak 
 
GOES TO ITALY. 319 
 
 and prostratvj iu Iiealth and hoi^e, he attended for the 
 last time that Legislature which he had so triumphantly 
 entered. In a speech of simple and touching eloquence, 
 entirely fr.^e from every tinge of his ancient violence, 
 lie showed the fearful magnitude of the calamity im- 
 pending over the country,, suggested his remedies, and 
 with a solemn and heartfelt pathos implored the gene- 
 rous aid of Parliament. But his voice was so faint that 
 but few could catch his words. The fearful change 
 impressed all who saw liim.^ Old rancour and party 
 spirit were forgotten at the spectacle of so gi'eat a 
 sorrow. He was listened to with an almost reverential 
 silence, and followed by many evidences of pity and of 
 respect. Statesmen of all parties testified their sym- 
 pathy by their enquiries. The Queen, with a graceful 
 kindness that should never be forgotten, sent to ask 
 after the dying agitator. Another visit he received in 
 those last dark days which he must have valued still 
 more — three of the Oxford converts to Kome came to 
 assure him that it was his career that had first directed 
 their attention to the theology of his Church. 
 
 IJeligion was indeed now tlie only solace of his mind. 
 In his youth he had been dissipated and immoral ; but> 
 a change had passed over him, it is said, about the' 
 time of his duel. with d'Esterre, and his attachment to 
 his religion was sincere and fervent. His physicians 
 having ordered him abroad, he resolved to draw his 
 last breath near the tombs of the Apostles in that great 
 city which is the metropolis of his Church. The deep 
 melancholy which the consciousness of the famine im- 
 pending over his countiy produced attended him on 
 that dreary journey. ' He seemed,' said one who 
 vidted him in France, ' to be a continued prey to sad 
 
 ' See the very touching description in Disraeli's 'Life of Lord J. 
 Bcntiack.* 
 
320 DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 reflections. His face had grown thin, and his look 
 proclaimed an inexpressible sadness : the head hung 
 upon the breast, and the entire person of the invalid, 
 formerly so imposing, \vas greatly weighed dowai.* 
 His strength failed him when he arrived at Genoa, and 
 in that city he expired on May 15, 1847. 
 
 He bequeathed his body to Ireland and his heart to 
 the Eternal City. The former rests in the cemetery 
 of Glasnevin, in the vicinity of Dublin ; the latter near 
 the tomb of Lascaris, in the church of St. Agatha, at 
 Ivome. 
 
 Tliere is something almost awful in so dark a close 
 of so brilliant a career. The more I dwell upon the 
 subject, the more I am convinced of the splendour and 
 originality of the genius and of the sterling character 
 of the patriotism of O'Connell, in spite of the calumnies 
 that surround his memory, andj:he many and grievous 
 faults tliat obscured his life. ' But when to the great 
 services he rendered to his country we oppose the 
 sectarian and class warfare that res\iltcd from his 
 policy, the fearful elements of discord he evoked, and 
 which he alone could in some degree control, it may 
 be questioned whether his life was a blessing or a curse 
 to Ireland. 
 
 THE END. 
 
** An hiterestmg, a Truthful, a-nd a Wholesome Book.'' 
 
 London Athen^um. 
 
 WILKES, SHERIDAN, FOX. 
 
 The Opposition under Geoi^ge the Third. 
 
 Ly W. F. RAE. 
 8vo. Cloth Price, $2.00. 
 
 ** A book whicli embraces vigorous sketches of three famous men 
 like John Wilkes, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and Charles James Fox, 
 is truly worth having. The author is in evident sympathy with all three 
 of his subjects, and yet does not in either case betray an undue partial- 
 ity. Although in no instance condoning the private vices and personal 
 shortcomings of the characters he has to deal with, he does not allow 
 their faults to influence his estimate of the virtues, the talents, and the 
 public services, which entitle each of these celebrated men to the admi- 
 ration and gratitude of their country. " — Chicago Tribune. 
 
 " The volume is interesting to Americans particularly, as it speaks 
 of men who represented largely English sentiments during our struggle 
 for independence ; and the opposition of Fox to war in this country, as 
 represented in these pages, shows out clearly the love of liberty which 
 iFilled the minds of this man and his worthy colleagues Wilkes and Sheri- 
 dan at that time." — Albany Express. 
 
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 and laudable endeavor, will want to see this work." — Boston Common- 
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 ful to him for an interesting, a truthful, and a wholesome book." — 
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THE GREVILLE MEMOIRS. 
 
 COMPLETE IN TWO VOLS. 
 
 A JOURNAL OF THE REIGNS OF 
 
 King &8orge lY. & King William lY. 
 
 Cy the Late CIIAS. C. F. GREVILLE, Esq., 
 Clerk of the Council to those Sovereigns. 
 
 Edited by Henry Reeve, Registrar of the Privy Council. 
 
 12mo. PRICE, $4.00. 
 
 This edition contains the co?nplcte text as published in the three volumes 
 of the English edition. 
 
 " The sen.^ation created by tlie^e Memoirs, on their first appcnrance, was not out of 
 proportlun to iheir real interest. Tlicy relate to a period of our history second only in 
 importance to the Revolution of 1688; tliey portray manners which have now disap- 
 peared from society, yet have disappeared so recently that middle-aged men can recol- 
 lect them; and they concern the conduct of very eminent persons, of whom some are 
 still living, while of others the memory is so fresh that they still seem almost to be con- 
 temporaneous." — T/ie A caJony. 
 
 *' Such Memoirs as these are the most interesting contributions to history that can 
 be made, and the most vahi.ible as well. The man deserves gratitude from his pos- 
 terity who, being placed in the midst of e\ents that have any importance, and of people 
 who bear anj considerable part in them, sits down day by day and makes a record of 
 his observations." — Buffalo Courier. 
 
 "The Greville Memoirs, already in a third edition in London, in little more than 
 two months, have b:en republished by D. Appleton & Co., New York. The three 
 loosely-printed English volumes are here given in two, withuut the slightest abridg- 
 ment, and the price, which is nine dollars across the water, here is only four. It 
 is not too much to say that this work, though not so ambitious in its style as Horace 
 Walp^le's well-known 'Correspondence,' is much more interesting. In a word, these 
 Greville Memoirs sipply valuable mateiials not al-ne for political, but also for social 
 history during the time they cover. They are additionally attractive from the large 
 quantity of racy anecdotes which they contain." — Philadelphia Press. 
 
 " These are a few among many illustrations of the pleasant, gossipy information con- 
 veyed in these Memoirs, whose great charm is the free ar.d straightforward manner in 
 which the writer chronicles his Impressions of men and events." — Boston Daily Globe. 
 
 " As will be seen, these volumes are of remarkable interest, and fully justify the en^ 
 comiums that heralded their appearance in this country. They will attract a large cir- 
 cle of readers here, who will find in their gossipy pages an almost inexhaustible fund 0/ 
 instruction and amusement." — Boston Saturday Ez'eniiig Gazette. 
 
 "Since the publication of Horace Walpole's Letters, no book of greater historical 
 interest has seen the Hjjht than the Greville Memoirs. It throws a curious, and, wc 
 may almost say, a terrible light on the conduct and character of the public men in Kng- 
 land under the reigns of George lY. and William IV. Its descriptions of those kings 
 and their kinsfolk are never likely to be forgotten." — -V. Y. Times. 
 
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THE LIFE OF 
 
 HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS 
 
 THE PRINCE CONSORT. 
 
 By THEODORE MARTIN. 
 
 JFii/t Portraits and Views. Volume the First, ximo. Cloth. Price, $3.00. 
 
 "The book, indeed, Is more comprehensive than its title imphes. Puiportine to 
 tdl the life of the Prince Consort, it includes a scarcely less minute biography— whu* 
 may be regarded as almost an autobiography— of the Queen herself; and, when it is 
 complete, it will probably present a more minute history of the domestic life of a aueen 
 »nd her ' master ' (the term is Her Majesty's) than has ever before appeared, —i'rom 
 ike Athenaum. ,., ,, , , 
 
 " Mr Martin has accomplished his task with a success which could scarcely have 
 been anticipated. His biography of Prince Albert would be valuable and instrucUve 
 «ven if it were addressed to remote and indifferent readers who had no special interest 
 in the English court or in the royal family. Prince Albert's actual celebrity is insepa- 
 lably associated with the high position which he occupied, but his claim to permanent 
 icpuution depends on the moral and intellectual qualities which were smgular y 
 adapted to the circumstances of his career. In any rank of life he would probably 
 have attained distinction; but his prudence, his self-denial, and his apbtude for acquir- 
 ing practical knowledge, could scarcely have found a more suitable field of exercise 
 than in his peculiar situation as the acknowledged head of a constituuonal monarchy. 
 From the Saturday Review. ^ vu., 
 
 " The author writes with dignity and grace, he values his subject, and treats brni 
 with a certain courtly reverence, yet never once sinks into the panegyrist, andwhile 
 apparently most frank-so frank, that the reticent English people may feel the mtimacy 
 dI his domestic narrarives almost painful— he is never once betrayed into a momentary 
 indiscretion. The almost idyllic beauty of the relation between the Pnpce Consort 
 and the Queen comes out as fully as in all previous histories of that relation— and we 
 have now had three— as does also a good deal of evidence as to the Queen's ovvn 
 character, hitherto always kept down, and, as it were, self effaced in pubhcaliona 
 written or sanctioned by herself."— /^r,7W the London Spectator. , «• . 
 
 " Of the abilities which have been claimed for the Pnnce Consort, this work affords 
 us small means of judsing. But of his wisdom, strong sense of duty, and great dignity 
 and purity of character, the volume furnishes ample evidence. In this way it will be 
 of ser%ice to any one who reads \\^"—From tJie New York Evem»f Post. ^ 
 
 " There is a striking contrast between this volume and the OreviUe Memoirs, wnicti 
 rcl.nte to a perii->d in English history immediately preceding Prince Albert's mamage 
 with Queen Victoria Radical changes were effected in court-life by Victoria s acccs- 
 Bion to the throne. ... In the work before us, which is the unfolding of a model home- 
 life, a life in fact unrivaled in the abodes of modem royalty, there is nothing but what 
 thepurcst mind can read with real pleasure and profit. ..,./- r v 1 • 
 
 " Mr Martin draws a most exquisite portraiture of the mamed life of the royal pair, 
 which seems to have been as neariy perfect as any thing human can be. The volume 
 closes shortly after the Revolution of 1848, at Paris, when Louis Philippe and his hap- 
 less queen were fleeing to Engbnd in search of an .nsylum from the fearful forebodings 
 which overhung their pathway. It was a trj-ing ume for England, but^ says Mr. Mar- 
 tin with true dramatic effect m the closing passages of his book :' When the storm 
 burst, it found him prepared. In rising to meet the difficulties of the hour, the prince 
 found the best support in the cheerful courage of the queen, who on the 4lh of 
 April of that same year wrote to King Leopold : * I never was calmer and quieter a 
 less nervous. Great events make me calm ; it is only tnfles that imtate my nerves. 
 Thus ends the first volume of one of the most important biographies of the present 
 time. The second volume will follow as soon as its preparauon can be effected. - 
 /■r^m the Hat t/o7-d Evening Post. 
 
 D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y, 
 
Memoirs of General William T. Skrman, 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 Covipleic in two volumes. Small Zvo, i,oo pages each. Price in blue cloth, $5.50; 
 sheep, $7.00; half turkey, ^Z.^o; full turkey, $12.00. 
 
 From the Richmond IVhig. 
 " He writes well. His style is terse, pointed, and incisive. He expresses his opin- 
 ions of men and things witli independence and freedom." 
 
 From iJte Boston Post. 
 "The book written by General Sherman is as striking a record of military experi- 
 ence as the modern world has ever read. It is rare that a gre.Tt commander is a good 
 writer, the same hand not often being gifted with the capacity to hold the sword and 
 the pen with equal skill." 
 
 From the Springfield Union. 
 "General Sherman's st^'Ie becomes picturesque and vivid in treating of the march 
 to the sea, which, indeed, has been seized upon by all our writers as the most romantic 
 passage of the war." 
 
 From the Philadelphia Daily Telegraph. 
 "With a few exceptions, the book is remarkably temperate, and it is an eminently 
 readable and most interesting narrative of a brilliant military career." 
 
 From the Saturday Evening Gazette. 
 "We recognize him as one of the brilliant soldiers of bis cm, nnd ns a mnn to whom 
 his country is veiy la'-gcly indebted for what he now informs us was the conception, as 
 well as the carrying out, of one of the master-strokes of the war." 
 
 From the X. V. Herald. 
 "Sherman shows that he can wield the pen as well as the sword. His style is as 
 much his own as that of Ca;sar or Napoleon. It is a winning style. We see a gifted 
 man telling his life in a plain, artless fashion, but wiih trenchant rhetoric." 
 
 From the Tribune. 
 
 "Of the events of the Civil War, in which he has won his illustrious fame, he has 
 given a singularly lucid and instructive description ; his strictures on military affairs 
 are judicious and weighty; but to many readers his portraitures of sgenes and inci- 
 dents of less wide-spread publicity, revealing by side-glances the tr.-»its of a powerful 
 and, in some sense, a unique personal character, will prove the most interesting por- 
 tions of the work." 
 
 From the iV. J '. Times. 
 
 "These memoirs are by far the most interesting and important contribution yet 
 made to the military' history of the rebellion by any of the leading actors in the great 
 struggle. The personal historj' of so marked a man must always possess extraordinary 
 interest. When it is related by the man himself, and in that peculiarly mcy style 
 which General Sherman's letters and speeches have made familiar to the public, it not 
 only becomes absorbing but fascinating." 
 
 From the ETcning Post. 
 " General Sherman has told his story with the most entire unreserve, and the story 
 Is one which Americans will be proud to read. We cannot help a feeling of satisfac- 
 tion in being of the same race and the same country with such a man. We have here 
 the picture of a person resolute yet cautious, bold yet prudent, confident yet modest 
 — a man of action to his finger-ends, yet withal somediing of a poet; we see all through 
 the book the evidences of a chivalrous mind and of an intellect of singular force and 
 precision." 
 
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