phrase of her enemies, really existed in the hearts of the people, the doom of the British empire would have been forever sealed. Unable to cope with danger from abroad, the power of England would have been broken by the effects of opposition at home. But a nobler spirit animated the bosoms of the people of Ireland, when they prepared to meet the coming danger. The sturdy peasantry of the land were formed into organized bodies, and military discipline to some extent introduced into their ranks. This organization rapidly extended itself to the whole population of Ireland, and altho' the ministry saw with guilty consciences the array of armed men that a short time before they had deprived of the use of arms, they were forced to submit to the requirements of a stern necessity, and endeavor by false and specious promises to cajole again into a state of submission, the spirit of a people once more conscious of their power.

There was much at this time in the feeling which governed the Irish people, calculated to make the ministers of England uneasy. In former days we have seen, that one of the most favorite modes of effectually subjugating Ireland, was to create dissatisfaction and distrust among the people themselves. Now, however, the high and the low, the rich and the poor, were united. The most distinguished men in Ireland, Catholic and Protestant, were at the heads of these organized bodies, and their influence and character, if brought to act on the masses who were under their command, would create and embody a feeling that was much to be dreaded. These fears were, to a great extent, realized. These associations, when organized, naturally turned their attention to their own condition. And no where can there be found principles more just and legal, than those which were adopted by many of these bodies, indicating their sense of what their condition was,-their conviction of what it should be. No resort, however, was had to arms,—no use made of the power they possessed,-no advantage taken of the comparatively helpless condition in which England then lay exposed.

The convention at Dungannon was to Ireland, what Runny-Meade had been to England. It was there that those resolutions were adopted which express the principles upon which the relations of Ireland towards England were based. The position assumed was of the last degree of peril to England. Had one false movement been made on her part,

in that occan, of which she was the boasted mistress, the sun of England had set for ever. Never, perhaps, had a people, in some respects, a finer representation than the people of Ireland then had. Grattan, a name dear to every lover of freedom, a child of nature, on whom genius had lavished with prodigality her choicest gifts, was then in the zenith of his fame and power; and never did the tongue of mortal man plead more eloquently for justice to the land of his birth, than did this most gifted orator. While, inferior only in fervid and gorgeous eloquence to his rival, with a judgment clear, patriotism unseduced, and argument, the cogency of which was seldom heard but to convince, did Flood, at once the Ajax and Ulysses of this great cause, support the fortunes of his country. Around these were gathered a host of others, who, from these distinguished men, as the high priests in the holy ceremonies they were performing, caught up the inspiration of the theme, and re-echoed the lofty sentiments which still warm the hearts of the people of Ireland.

But the appetite for lawless rule in Ireland had not been sated. Another expedient was now resorted to, to enslave her people, an expedient which, we regret to say, has seldom been tried without success. Intimidation was now out of the question. Fear was no longer useful, for force was beyond their power. A people who could not be subdued by force, were to be overcome by persuasion. Pretending a hollow sympathy for their wrongs, all means were now employed to strip them of their power by amalgamating the governments of Ireland and England. Less than half a century had elapsed, since the Irish people had themselves applied for the passage of such a law. They were then poor, helpless, unprotected. But England was then in the full meridian of her greatness, and the humble application of the Irish people was rejected with contempt.

The times, however, had changed. Ireland was now powerful, England weakened, and compelled to strengthen herself in any mode. If the prayer of Ireland in 1753 had been heard, there would have been no contest in 1782. But the measures that would then have been deemed blessings, were now to be regarded as not worthy of consideration. The tone and temper of the people of Ireland called for decided action on the part of the British crown. They had stated their principles, they had declared the independence of

their country, they had submitted their opinions to the crown of England,-what was to be the response?

Machiavel himself could not have proceeded in the now tangled web of British domestic policy, with more art than did the ministers of England on this occasion, and never did an infamous success so triumphantly crown the labors of those who were the chief managers. In 1782, the king of England delivered his message to the British Parliament, in which he informs that body, "That mistrusts and jealousies had arisen in Ireland, and that it was highly necessary to take the same into immediate consideration, in order to a final adjustment !" The Duke of Portland was the agent of the crown then selected for the management of Irish affairs, and was despatched to meet the Irish Parliament with this treacherous message. The minister arrived in Dublin but a short time before the meeting of Parliament. All means were resorted to, to avert, or at least postpone, the threatened blow. Appeals for delay were refused by the Irish patriots, who had now resolved to achieve the independence of their country, or be themselves the first offerings to that new-born freedom, to whose support they were sworn.

The 16th day of April, 1782, was a day most important to Ireland. Her last trial was then to be made. The accumulated wrongs of seven hundred years were to be redressed, or an eternal bondage rivetted upon her people. The excitement throughout the whole country was intense: there was no feeling save that which was now absorbed in the issue that day to be decided. At the opening of Parliament, the address of the king was laid before that body, and one of the adherents of the crown moved the usual and unmeaning addresses which these messages generally call forth. But the voice that should that day herald, in its boldest tones, the advent of freedom to his country, was still silent. In that vast body, crowded with eager spectators, scarce a breath was drawn to disturb the silence that reigned over all. It was the silence of the dead. It was well so. They were, indeed, yet dead. The voice had not yet gone forth, that should wake them from their long sleep,-re-animate their souls, and make the manacles they wore, new instruments of music in praise of freedom. At length Mr. Grattan slowly rose from his seat, and after "the most luminous, brilliant and effective oration ever delivered in the Irish Parliament," * Barrington.

announced, in reply to the address from the throne, the principles which alone could satisfy the people of Ireland. After the usual form, these principles are thus expressed: "That thus encouraged by his royal interposition, we shall beg leave, with all duty and submission, to lay before his majesty the causes of our discontents and jealousies; to assure his majesty that his subjects of Ireland are a free people,-that the crown of Ireland is an imperial crown, inseparably connected with the crown of Great Britain, on which connection the interests and happiness of both nations essentially depend, but that the kingdom of Ireland is a distinct kingdom, with a Parliament of her own, the sole legislature thereof,-that there is no body of men competent to make laws to bind the nation, but the king, lords and commons of Ireland,-nor any Parliament which hath any authority or power of any sort whatever in this country, save only the Parliament of Ireland,―to assure his majesty, that we humbly conceive that in this right the very essence of our liberty exists,-a right which we, on the part of the people of Ireland, do claim as their birthright, and which we cannot yield but with our lives." *

This was the Declaration of the Independence of Ireland. For centuries had every kind of misrule been exhibited toward that land, and though trodden down, the spirit of independence was not altogether extinguished; though hunted and chased by the myrmidons of British power, it lived in the old monuments of former days. It spoke from the halls of Tara. It was associated with the recollection of the battle fields throughout the land, and warmed the bruised heart of the patriot, who sought in the wild scenery of the mountains, or the placid stillness of her lakes, a relief from the agony of those thoughts, which a sense of his degraded position excited. The resolutions of Mr. Grattan demanded immediate consideration. No equivocation, no double-dealing, could now avail. The question was one of freedom or bondage, of life or death. The volunteers stood, with arms in their hands, ready and perhaps anxious for the contest. No escape was left for the minister. Irrevocably fixed was the determination of all. If the king of England really desired to have a "final adjustment" of the difficulties in Ireland, now was the time.

However bitter was the dose thus administered, the necessity of the case obliged the Duke of Portland to conceal his annoyance, and submit to the terms which were thus extorted. The Irish Parliament was true to itself. The speech

of Mr. Grattan had awakened feelings that had long remained dormant. The result of this celebrated meeting of the Irish Parliament, we will give in the language of one of the most devoted of her sons:

"All further debate ceased. The speaker put the question on Mr. Grattan's amendment: a unanimous Aye burst from every quarter of the house. He repeated the question,—the applauses were redoubled. A moment of tumultuous exultation followed, and after centuries of oppression, Ireland at length declared herself an independent nation." *

The Irish patriots who then felt elated at the prospect which the future seemed to promise, knew not how pregnant with mischief to them was that future. Little did they surmise, that "the seeds of the Irish Union were sown by the same event which had procured her independence."

After the first burst of gladness had escaped from the bosoms of all classes, the people of Ireland were brought to consider what was the guaranty for the continuance of the privileges to which they had been restored. It was true that the statute of George I., providing for the right of England to legislate for Ireland, had been repealed, but was that sufficient? The two eminent statesmen of Ireland, Mr. Grattan and Mr. Flood, unfortunately differed on this point; and that difference unhappily fomented by foes, and kept alive by their own ardent tempers, separated them at a time when it was all important they should have been united. It was well said that the enactment of the statute of George, had affirmed the existence of certain rights in the British crown over Ireland, the repeal of that law only acknowledged the absence of any necessity for the present assertion of these rights. But the right to legislate at all, was not relinquished by the repeal. The next year a new law, similar in its operation, might be re-enacted, and thus a triumph, now considered final, be then regarded as a cruel mockery of hope. Short, indeed, was the time for action, before the conduct of the British ministers gave evidence of how well founded was this suspicion. Although the Duke of Portland had admitted in the plainest terms, in his address at the prorogation of the Irish Parliament, the principles of Mr. Grattan's resolutions as the permanent basis on which the government of Ireland was to rest, yet Mr. Fox, with his characteristic candor, in a few words, not long after plainly intimated that * Barrington.