rence, who flourished not long after Dante, the antiquity of the woollen manufacture in Ireland. It is recorded of some of our countrymen, that the severe blow which that manufacture sustained, somewhat more than a century ago, was owing to their boast of its extent and prosperous condition. Had Lord Charlemont lived in those days, he would have defended its privileges with no less ardour as a senator, than in the present he traced its history with the ingenuity

of a learned academician."

The Marquess of Buckingham, (for merly Lord Temple,) now succeeded a second time to the Irish viceroyalty, which was vacated by the death of the Duke of Rutland. His administration moved on with a tolerable degree of smoothness, until the discussion of the regency question, which was caused by the illness of the king. Here, the evil of two jarring legislatures again strikingly presented itself, and, had it not pleased Providence to restore his majesty to health, the consequences might have been very fatal. The English parliament maintained the right of the two houses of assembly to choose a regent; the Irish, the duty of nominating to that office the heir apparent to the throne. The English parliament elected the Prince of Wales with conditions; the Irish called upon him to assume the functions of royalty, in all the plenitude in which they were exercised before disease had impaired the intellect of the king. Could any propositions be more directly at variance? And could any differences be inore important? And this second conflict with the English parliament occurred only six years after the assertion of our independence!

Lord Charlemont again took the wrong side, his nationality prevailing against his reason. He was the mover, in the House of Lords, of the resolution requesting the Prince of Wales to take upon him the office of regent. This resolution the Lord Lieutenant refused to transmit. And Lord Charlemont, then, accompanied a deputation to England, who were authorised to wait upon his royal highness, and present the address in person. This they did. It was graciously received. But the matter terminated there; as recovery of the king rendered it unnecessary to proceed in this perilous business any farther.

Now it was that Lord Charlemont's political conduct began to cause some alarm to the best friends of social

order. The indiscretion of the Irish parliament, respecting the regency, led to many dismissals from office; and this, again, caused an accession of strength to the opposition, which it had not known before, and from which, on the part of the government, considerable embarrassment might be apprehended. The conduct of Lord Buckingham was fully justified by the provocation which he received, (for parliament had passed a vote of censure upon him for his refusal to forward the address;) and those who were made to feel the weight of his displeasure, for what they couceived to be a strictly constitutional exercise of their parliamentary privileges, must naturally have felt very strong resentment. It was when these feelings were rankling in the minds of himself and his friends, that Lord Charlemont promoted the establishment of the Whig Club, a society which comprised most of the eminent persons with whom he was in the habit of acting in public life, and which served to give that energy and concentration to their exertions, which rendered them not only formidable to their antagonists in parliament, but dangerous at that particular crisis, to the peace of the empire. For never was there a time when a strong government was more imperatively required to quell the insubordi nation and the disaffection which now began to be ripe in many parts of Ireland. Of this, Lord Charlemont could not be persuaded, nor was it to be expected that he should. And we only do him common justice when we say, that had he been fully aware of the dangerous spirit which it was the tendency of the measures which he promoted to excite and to cherish, these measures would never have had, from him, the countenance with which they were regarded. But where he only saw the workings of constitutional principle, others could discern the heavings of secret treason. And well was it for the country that those whose views were juster, and whose foresight was clearer, were at that time placed in stations of authority, which enabled them to exercise such a vigilant guardianship over the public weal, that the machinations of the disaffected were defeated. We shall take occasion, in a future number, to present to the reader a full-length portrait of Lord Clare, who now filled the important office of Irish Lord Chancellor, and, without whose energy and determina

tion, it is our firm belief, that the rebellion, the seeds of which now began to appear, and which afterwards blazed out with so much fury, would have terminated in the separation of Great Britain and Ireland.

"As to the politics of Ireland," says Burke, writing to Lord Charlemont at this period, (1789,) "as I see nothing in them very pleasant, I do not wish to revive in your mind what your best philosophy is required to make tolerable. Enjoy your mansion, and your amiable and excellent family. These are comfortable sanctuaries, when more extensive views of society are gloomy, unpleasant,

or unsafe."

As the French revolution progress ed, so the designs of the disaffected in Ireland became more and more apparent; and although the policy of Lord Charlemont was not calculated to counteract them, it is needless to say that, with the principles of that dangerous faction, he never sympa thised. Almost to the latest period of his life, he continued an enemy to Catholic emancipation. We have Lord Plunkett's authority for saying, that in the end, he parted with what he called his prejudice upon that subject; but had he lived to witness the experiment that has since been made, he would, perhaps, account his first his most enlightened conviction. He thus writes to Dr. Halliday with reference to that subject :"Thank you for your letter;-thank you for the explicit, manly, and friendly manner in which you avow and explain your sentiments; a manner worthy of my friend, and for which I must thank you, notwithstanding the painful situation into which your letter, kind as it is, has cast me. Not to be able perfectly to agree with you, must at all times give me pain; but the sensation is aggravated tenfold by my finding myself utterly incapable of explaining, as I could wish, the reasons of my disagreement. I cannot entirely adopt your opinions, nor coincide with your reasoning, and yet the wretched state of my nerves absolutely precludes my entering into the argument, or endeavouring to justify myself where I differ.'

As the best part of this letter was confidential, it would be improper to publish it altogether; I shall only insert such extracts from it as cannot be considered as strictly so, and do credit to the head and heart of the noble writer.

The difference of sentiment between him and his friend, seemed to be chiefly with regard to some claims of the Catholics, which it was expected would be brought forward in the session of parliament then fast approaching.

"For heaven's sake, let us not amuse ourselves with dangerous experiments. In one of Lucian's Dialogues, the wily Proteus desires Menelaus, who doubted the reality of that fire into which he was about to transform himself, to try the effect, by taking him by the hand: to which the shrewd Spartan laconically replies, “Οὐκ ἀσφαλῆς ἡ Πεῖρα @ Προτεῦ. Μα

Already had the Whig Club, which, by his encouragement at least, he had contributed to establish in Belfast, began to take the hue of treason. He thus writes, in 1796, to the same respected individual, and gives way to an indignation never before exhibited by him, when he found that the body, for whose good reputation he was so solicitous, had rejected a declaration recommended by him, in which a profession was made of attachment to the constitution.

"Dublin, September 12th, 1796. "What! Do the good people of your town consider it as a matter of very little moment, to be confounded in the mass of those whose principles they must detest? Is the present situation of this country, and more especially of your neighbourhood, such as to render an avowal of amity to the constitution, a matter of very little moment? As for the arguments, if such they may be called, made use of by those who wished to refuse their signature, they are really too futile to deserve an answer. That the spirit of discontent has struck its roots deep indeed, I am alas! well aware. But is it merely a spirit of discontent? I also am discontented; yet that shall not prevent me from endeavouring to save my country from destruction. the spirit that has gone abroad, is, I fear, of a far worse nature, and proceeds from the machinations of a set of wretches, who wish for confusion, because by that alone they can hope to thrive. They wish for a restoration of Chaos, not from the hope, though that would be sufficiently foolish, that a better world might be created out of it, but, because they suppose that in the confusion of elements, the lightest must necessarily float at the top. The divine Milton, certainly no courtier, has well, and beautifully, pointed out the close connection which exists

But

between Chaos and the author of all evil, where Satan addresses the powers and spirits of the nethermost abyss, in words not ill-adapted to a modern anarchist.

Direct my course;

Directed no mean recompense it brings
To your behoof, if I that region lost,
All usurpation thence expelled, reduce
To her original darkness, and your sway,
Which is my present journey, and once more
Erect the standard there of ancient night.'

To whom the old Anarch answers, with the utmost kindness, and bids him Go, and speed.' Havoc and spoil, and ruin are my gain.' There was a time when my opinion might have had some little weight at Belfast, but those halcyon days are fled. My only consolation is, that I am no way changed, whatever they may be who formerly honoured me with their esteem."

But the floodgates of democracy had now been pulled up, and it was not in Lord Charlemont's power to close them. The secret association of United Irishmen was rapidly spreading through the country. While the friends of the people, as they were called, in parliament, were denouncing ministers, for not yielding to the "pressure from without," by granting reform in parliament, and other measures of a like tendency, Wolfe Tone, M.Neven, Emmet, and their associates, were secretly laughing at their folly, and

determined to rest satisfied with nothing short of the overthrow of the monarchy and the church, and the establishment of an independent republic in Ireland. But we shall reserve what we have to say on this subject for our notice of Lord Clare, who was, indeed, at this period a terror to evil-doers, and who was afterwards acknowledged, (by one of the rebel leaders, in his examination before the secret committee,) to have shaped his measures for the suppression of rebellion with almost as much skill as if he had had an intimate knowledge of all the hidden designs of the traitors.

Lord Charlemont's health was now very much broken, and his anxiety now respecting the state of the country did not contribute to improve it. The arrest of the committees in Belfast, and the seizure of their papers, put government into possession of much valuable information, and caused many, who were either hostile or neutral, to give a cordial approbation to the vigorous measures of administration. The following extract from a letter to

Dr. Halliday, bears date, June 9th, 1797:

"Dublin, June 9th, 1797.

"Deplorable indeed, is the account you give, and your experience of my sentiments will enable you readily to judge, how sensible I feel the misfortune of a town, which, with all its errors, must ever be dear to me; neither does my having long foreseen, and fruitlessly warned your fellow citizens against what has happened, tend in any great degree to lessen my concern, since, perhaps, they are the most unhappy, and consequently the most to be pitied, who suffer from their own faults or follies; and far be from me that indifference, or sometimes even with pleahardness of heart, which can view with sure, the sufferings of a friend, merely because he brought them on himself.To avert these evils, you well know what pains I have taken. My advice has, indeed, been lavished on both parties, with equally ill success; but how could I expect that it would influence those with whom I was wholly unconnected, when it had produced little or no effect upon my friends? Would to heaven it had been otherwise; but spurred on by destiny, we seem on all hands to run a rapid course towards a frightful precipice. But it is criminal to despair of our country. I will then endeavour yet to hope. My conscience at least is clear, and with a clear conscience, utter despondency can scarcely exist. Every thing in my power

has been done. I have recommended conciliation, I have recommended concession, and, though my advice, however strongly urged, has proved ineffectual, still I have disburthened my mind; neifluctuation of these unsteady times, my ther is it utterly impossible that, in the opinion may yet prevail."

Of the dreadful scene which shortly after took place, it is not our intention to

speak at present. A more fitting opportunity for so doing will be presented in some of our future numbers. But he must have been but a shortsighted statesman, who could not now see the perils to which the country must be exposed, if the boasted constitution of 1782 continued to constitute the basis of its government, and who was not fully persuaded that the integrity of the empire could only be guaranteed by a legislative union.

It is not, however, surprising, that the fathers of that constitution should still continue to regard it with a partial fondness, and that every attempt to extinguish their national legislature should be strongly and indiguantly re