ting in the individuality of his own private character, and possessing no peculiar title, privilege, or authority, to issue mandates or monitions. It would sound oddly enough with one of the prefaces appertaining to plurality, We, by the grace of God, J. O'Driscoll of Lisnabrinny, Esq. &c. &c. do declare so and so.

Antithesis is his favourite figure, and it is in numerous instances a very simple one, merely setting one part of a sentence at variance with the other; other faults there are, confused ideas, giddy and unwarranted assertions, misrepresented facts, and false conclusions. Few pages are exempt from one or more of these imputations, and some exhibit an unlucky combination of them all. The reader who has not seen the work, may judge from the following specimens: "It was," says Mr O'Driscoll, ex Cathedra de Lisnabrinny, “our purpose to make the people of England acquainted with their fellow-subjects in Ireland," (taking it for granted, I presume, that, to obtain this knowledge, they would all have recourse to his 30s. pamphlet, an event highly advantageous to the author at least,)" and the people of the latter country with" -(the people of England, one would naturally suppose, in order to make the acquaintance mutual; but no, that would be descending to common modes of speech, it is to make them acquainted with the only people with whom nobody but our sagacious author would suppose them unacquainted, viz.) "each other!" Well, what is the next part of his purpose?" to exhibit a sketch of Ireland, rapid, irregular, but faithful; a view of what it was, what it is, and what it might be; to suggest, to urge changes which have become indispensable, and at the same time to expel, if it were possible, the fierce demon of radical change from its abode in the tormented bosom of the populace. We need great improvements in Ireland, but we have had enough of revolutions in that" (anglice this)" tortured country."

Old Æsop gave us a mountain producing a mouse; here we have a mouse producing a mountain, viz. a hasty and irregular sketch, purporting to give a faithful view of what Ireland was in days of yore, a perplexed and puzzling skein to unravel; what she is now, a subject on which neither historians nor politicians are quite ac

cordant; and what she might be, a matter of still more difficulty and doubt among sages and speculators! The next part of the author's undertaking seems as superfluous as the preceding was hopeless; for changes which are become indispensable, cannot well be unknown, and therefore do not require his urgency, being, according to him, things which must take place. The succeeding sentence is so expressed as to make his readers believe, that the dæmon of radical change is to be expelled by his book from the bosom of the tortured populace, a description of persons little given to reading, and of whom very few indeed are able to purchase thirty shillings worth of admonition. In his aversion to revolutions, every honest and intelligent reader will heartily concur, as well as in acknowledging that we are in need of great improvements, among which I should be glad to see the style and temper of political composition included. Improvements and changes, however, are not synonimous.

But, if the next paragraph is to be credited, (the information given in which is entitled to the full praise of novelty, having never, I believe, been contemplated by any preceding writer,) our author's pains, for the far greater part at least, might have been spared, inasmuch as he has discovered a much more certain guide than human wisdom, viz. instinct. There is, he tells us, "a kind of instinctive feeling which belongs to our species, intimating when great changes are at hand. It is something of that kind by which the lower animals foreknow the changes of the weather, and are warned to provide for their safety!"

This doctrine, as I have already observed, is new, and not the least ingenious among our author's singular opinions, though, to most readers, it will probably appear paradoxical. Animals, not possessed of reason, are endowed with that faculty called instinct, which a wise Providence has rendered subservient to their uses, and sufficient for their welfare. Now, as experience and observation have shewed our author that there are among the creatures professing rationality, and particularly among those who call themselves political reformers, a very considerable number of persons exhibiting little or no symptoms of the reasoning faculty, he has kindly provided

they who discover least ability, and are least successful in the management of their own private and personal concerns, are the fittest to direct those of the public.

To this new doctrine of human instinct, there is one little objection, that though it shews with sufficient certainty approaching changes, it does not, as in the case of lower animals, necessarily enable the foreknowers to provide for their safety, which, according to the old school of philosophy, was the sole purpose intended by the wisdom of the Almighty Giver of instincts. In the beginning of the reign of Louis XVI. French instinct pointed clearly enough to a great approaching change, but it seems to have been sadly deficient in warning the people to provide for their safety. It does therefore appear to be by no means impossible, that those of our countrymen who are most agitated by this instinctive prophetical furor, may happen to meet a change not only contrary to their expectations, but injurious to their safety. In the French National Assembly, were men full as wise, and, I believe, almost as noisy and tumultuous, as those of the Dublin Convention, and they succeeded both in effecting a change, and in putting themselves at the head of it, but the subsequent part of the example is not very encouraging. However, those who act from instinct, are, of course, exempt from any impressions that can be made by precedent, reasoning, prudence, or reflection.

them with a substitute in that which has proved so excellent a guide to other irrational animals, instinct. This certainly serves to account for what otherwise would seem wholly unaccountable, the ravings of certain persons composing political clubs or conventions, in Dublin and other places. Many think them to be only mistaken and puzzle-headed agitators, abusing their reason, and over-rating their talents; but it now appears that reason and talents have no concern in the matter, and that they act under the mere impulse of an instinct foreboding the probability of bad weather in the political horizon, as sea-birds usually scream most on the approach of a storm. Mr O'Driscoll's error consists in improper exemplification. Had he applied his doctrine to those said agitators, it would have been easily admitted; but he has unfortunately selected his proofs from classes least likely to forebode state changes, or feel disturbance from political foresight, viz. "the barefooted peasant on the mountain, the citizen employed at his trade, the professional man, the country gentleman, and the farmer; all these," he says, "are agreed that changes are necessary. On this point there is perfect unanimity." That certain changes would be acceptable to most of these, I am willing to admit, but I strenuously deny the circumstance of perfect unanimity. The barefooted peasant on the mountain feels little interest in any change save the change of weather, or the change of pasturage for his flock or herd. The citizen would change a bad trade into a good one, and a good one into a better, if he could. The country gentleman, and the farmer, agree perfectly in the contemplation of one change, viz. a change in the prices of corn, and other provisions; but they differ widely in another, the gentleman wishing to change low rents into high, and the farmer wishing to change high rents into low. Professional men, by whom are meant, I suppose, lawyers, physicians, and attorneys, when they are fortunate enough to have good business, are seldom fools enough to wish for a change. When this is not the case, some of them are apt to try their fortune in another way, and so change themselves into patriots, politicians, orators, and pamphlet writers; for it is become a sort of axiom in modern politics, that

Mr O'Driscoll has made curious discoveries he makes Voltaire a predestinarian, and Cromwell a saint. That brilliant writer, he says, speaking of the former," thought that Ireland was foredoomed to slavery, but he was mistaken." Now, this seems a very unlucky observation for one whose faithful Sketch of Ireland represents her as having been in a state of slavery not only for ages prior to the brilliant writer's time, but down even to the present day. What she may be hereafter, one prophet knows just as well as the other. Within three lines of his refutation of Voltaire, he has these words: "Never were there more turbulent or reluctant slaves than the Irish." This is at least an admission of the fact. As to reluctance and turbulence, I am inclined to think them general characteristics of slavery in all countries. In

one respect, certainly, no slaves were ever tamer than the Irish, that is, in their blind submission to a despotic church. This, however, is, in a great measure, ascribable to the gross ignorance of the people, and the vigilant bigotry of the priest; a change in both of which is indeed a "C consummation devoutly to be wished."

Cromwell's saintship, I believe Mr O'Driscoll will find in no calendar but his own. The religion of that curious compound of hypocrisy and enthusiasm was, if I mistake not, that of the sect called Independent Dissenters. Whether sects of this description still produce religious saints, I do not know, but they are sail to be sufficiently fertile in political sinners. I hope they and their various coadjutors may not verify the old proverb, of too many cooks. Perhaps they may reply to me with a proverb of still greater age and respectability-that "in the multitude of counsellors there is safety." The retort would certainly be in their favour, did we not know that the word counsellors, in ancient days, signifi.d wise men.

Mr O'Driscoll apologizes for inaccuracy of language by the hurry of publication, being anxious to put out his book, lest the interest which passing events had collected upon Irish affairs, might have been dissipated and lost," before its appearance. Passing affairs must have been of a trivial nature indeed, if their impression was so very transitory as to refuse to wait one little month for an Irish pamphlet. Surely he who looked to the return of tranquillity in so short a space, could not have been very seriously impressed with the horrors of misgovernment. The feverish symptoms which were likely to abate before the political quack had time to compound his nostrum, could not have been very dangerous. But he needed not to have felt such alarm. The Dublin agitators are not of a character to be easily tranquillized, and Captain Rock is a sturdy belligerent. It is a very questionable matter, whether either the former or the latter would abate one iota of their turbulence, even although Mr O'Driscoll's pamphlet were to be read every week by one, and to the other, and all his salutàry and sagacious recommendations adopted into the bar gain. A later appearance would have VOL. XIV.

been favourable to the prophetic character of his work, as it would have made him suppress the paragraphs predictive of the terrible consequences to be apprehended from France's interference with the affairs of Spain. Great politicians, like Mr O'Driscoll, are apt to confine the name of "the people," to the opposers of established authority; and when they hear of a few discontented spirits in a country, it is the people rising in the cause of freedom against their tyrannical oppressors. That rulers will sometimes oppress, and that oppression ought to be resisted, I am very far from denying; but that factions should be encouraged to overthrow established authorities, I can never admit. There are few countries as yet prepared for what we call a free government, and a premature introduction of one in them, would do more harm than good. The French, we see, have been received in the Peninsula as friends; and a great majority of the people are decisively in favour of the old system, which time, it is to be hoped, will improve, but which, at present, it would be madness to change. Poor Wilson is now probably of the same opinion. What a pity that so much heroism has been "dissipated and lost!"

Mr O'Driscoll begins his work with a general view of Ireland, from which it is difficult to collect anything precise, significant, or satisfactory. Had he been content to express his thoughts in plain language, though his statements and opinions might be controvertible, they could hardly be misunderstood. Affectation of fine writing has disfigured what was just, amplified what was injudicious, made errors more glaring, and thrown an air of ridicule and absurdity over the whole. A plain writer, comparing these islands, would be satisfied to tell us, that Ireland was still far behind her more favoured and fortunate sister, in arts, in industry, in opulence, and in renown. How is this expressed in the sesquipedalia verba of Mr O'Driscoll?" While Great Britain sits in the brightness of the glorious age which she has almost created, Ireland is still in the dimness of antiquity!" In the former sentence, we have clear and definite ideas of British superiority, and the things in which it consists. In the latter we have nothing specific, nothing precise, 3 Y

nothing satisfactory tnania verba. But this is not the worst; what we do understand of it, is not true. Ireland is not in the dimness of antiquity, and Mr O'Driscoll himself shall be brought to prove it. The national character of Ireland, he tells us, is best represented by its women; and, with patriotic gallantry, he prefers them to the English and the French, for all the qualities that can adorn the sex. They could hardly reach such excellence in the dimness of antiquity. In vol. ii. p. 224, he thus speaks :-"The question is not now, Will you instruct the people? But will you give a safe direction to that instruction which they have received, and are receiving? The people can no longer be deceived upon any subject," (he might have excepted miracles and prophecies,)" too much light has gone down to the lowest depths of society." If this be the case, Ireland cannot be said to be in the dimness of antiquity. It is true, the learned gentleman here seems to forget what he insists upon in other places, and what forms the only valuable part of his books, the extreme ignorance of the common people, and the best means of removing it by the establishment of proper schools. But what of that? It is only one out of ten thousand inconsistencies and contradictions, things too trifling to stand in the way of a brilliant period, or a favourite position. So the present point can be established, no matter at what expense; common sense and simple truth are easy sacrifices. In another place, we have an eulogium passed on the metropolis of Ireland. We should be glad, he says, (and no doubt such authority will be attended to,) to see it established as a settled habit of the Crown, that the King should frequently, and at stated times, hold his court in Dublin." (The crown, it seems, is to settle when and where the King shall wear it.) "The city of Dublin is worthy of the royal presence." With such a city, the second in the British empire, with such cities as Cork, Belfast, Waterford, Limerick, and others of inferior note, to say nothing of her nobility, clergy, and landed gentry, methinks it is a little too much to say that Ireland is still in the dimness of antiquity. Her best antiquity possessed no city equal to the worst of them. It is, however, but fair to give Mr

O'Driscoll an oportunity of explaining what he means by this dimness of antiquity, and the extract will give such readers as have not seen his work a fair specimen of the elevation of his style, and the felicity of his illustrations.

"She (Ireland) has had her shining spirits, not few nor inconsiderable (shining spirits seldom are); but they have been unable to dispel the darkness of an antiquity, which is without pomp, or beauty, or chivalry; not elevated, not dignified, not polished; preserving only the fierce passions, the feuds, and the barbarism of ancient times, without the generous attachments of clanship, without the oftentimes noble fidelity and high honour of feudal obligations. The lumber, and the dross, and the deadly weapons of antiquity (qu. what are they?) are scattered over the land; but whatever was brilliant or beautiful (surely he should have excepted the women) is gone for ever! We walk as upon a stage, where (Anglice, whence or from which) the pageant has been withdrawn, and the lights extinguished, and some coarse and vulgar mateterials strown in the darkness, suggest an indistinct idea of what might have been performed."

What Mr Pope observes of some writers, who

"From vulgar rules with brave disorder part,"

may be justly applied to the passage here quoted. I would gladly learn the substantive intended for the first relative," which," whether it is an antiquity, or the darkness of an antiquity. If the former, as the grammatical construction of the sentence seems to intimate, then we have the word antiquity used in a new sense, and made to signify the present time. If darkness be the substantive, it was hardly necessary to tell us that darkness was without pomp, or beauty, or chivalry, &c. &c. For my own part, I cannot bring myself to feel any regret for the loss of clanship, however generous, or of feudal obligations, however noble their fidelity, and high their honour, deeming them symptoms of barbarism at best, and worse than even the darkness of our present antiquity. His theatrical illustration does any thing but throw light upon the subject. When a man is in darkness, it makes no difference whether the materials strewn