sation which he was so anxious to break, as the last hope of preventing the conclusion of peace, he stole out of the town to join O'Neile at Maryborough. The council sent messengers to invite him back, and with an offer which it is difficult to regard as sincere, they proposed to break off the treaty and invest Dublin, if he would send them £20,000; while they must have been aware that he was bankrupt in resources long since, and had already gone to the extent of his credit by large and frequent loans. But it is also evident that his conjunction with Owen O'Neile was the most mischievous proceeding that at the moment could well be conceived, and must have excited their utmost apprehension. The nuncio, with the pertinacity of his character replied, "that the generals of the Leinster and Munster armies should be displaced; that the Ulster army should be regularly paid, and assigned good quarters; that the clergy and their adherents in Munster should have satisfaction given them as to the civil government; that all governors and military officers should take an oath, neither to move, do, or agree to any thing that might be deemed to their prejudice, without leave from the clergy; and that the council should swear they would not suffer any peace to be made, but such an one as agreed with the instructions given to the agents sent to Rome." On receiving this message, the council saw the inutility of temporizing further, and signed a confirmation of the cessation to be observed until the conclusion of the treaty of peace. The nuncio had recourse to his usual methods, and when his declaration against their proceedings were taken down, and the prelates themselves resisted his menaces and entreaties, he brought together the titulars of Ross, Cork, and Down, who still adhered to him, and launched an excommunication against all persons, and an interdict against the towns which should receive the cessation. The council appealed from his censures, and were joined by two archbishops, twelve bishops, and all the secular clergy in their dioceses. They were even supported by the whole orders of Jesuits and Carmelites, and considerable numbers of other orders in the province. On the former occasion already related, he had been as zealously joined by the clergy of his persuasion, as he was now firmly and unanimously resisted; these persons, zealous for the interests of their order but clear-sighted and humane, had begun to see the folly of their blind and hot-headed leader, the hopelessness of the cause, and the mischief of its further present prosecution. These defections might have made a wiser and cooler headed man sensible that he had gone too far; but the nuncio was little accessible to the warning of circumstances, and insensible to all considerations but those of ambition, pride, and resentment which engrossed his heart. The difficulties of his position were daily increasing-his coffer was empty, the Spanish agent was suing him for 100,000 crowns taken by his ship from a Spanish vessel in the Bay of Biscay, under the pretext of its being English property, instead of which it was sent by the Spanish court for the payment of the army in Flanders. The leaders also of troops in the interest of the confederates had provided against excommunication, by the precaution of collecting those who were indifferent about it. Under these circumstances, O'Neile retired into Connaught, and thence to Ulster, to collect his men, and recruit their numbers. He had been abandoned by Sir Phelim, by lords Iveagh, and Alexander Macdonell, and now turned out of his way to attack them in Birr which they garrisoned. But general Preston marched against him, on which he raised the siege and retired. The nuncio meanwhile, endeavoured to effect in Connaught those purposes which had so entirely failed in the provinces of Munster and Leinster. Here too he was doomed to be signally disappointed; for, though joined everywhere by the populace, who were (as they ever are) actuated by the love of change and of tumult, the clergy manifested no disposition to enter into his views. He summoned them to a meeting in Galway, but a prohibition from the council was enough to prevent a compli ance; he was openly opposed by the titular bishop of Tuam, and the marquess of Clanricarde, after remonstrating with him on the vanity and wickedness of the headlong course he pursued, regularly besieged him in Galway, where he had as usual made a strong but low party among those on whom his misrepresentations could impose; but thus besieged, the Galway citizens soon came to a just understanding of this vain man, and consented to renounce him and proclaim the cessation. The nuncio thus foiled by Clanricarde, met also with a fresh proof of the contempt into which he was fallen among the confederacy; his Galway declaration, to which he had in vain solicited the consent of the clergy, was condemned as "wicked, malicious, and traitorous, repugnant to all laws, human and divine, and tending to the utter subversion of government both in church and state." At the same time, they publicly proclaimed Owen O'Neile a traitor, and set a price on his head. Notwithstanding these unfavourable changes, Owen O'Neile was still as strong as ever, nor could the nuncio be altogether deprived of hope, while supported by so powerful an adherent. Making a truce with Jones and the Scots, for the purpose of saving the families of his soldiers in the north and west, he was thus enabled to march into Leinster; there he hoped to regain the ascendance which had been wrested from his grasp, and to subdue or crush the council of Kilkenny. It was his design to surprise Kilkenny, and a conspiracy was formed in that city, to betray it on his appearance, but the letters between the parties were intercepted. Thus disappointed, Owen satisfied his resentment by wasting the lands of lord Mountgarret, and being invited into Thomond, he took the castle of Nenagh, and surprised Banagher. From this he besieged Athy, but the appearance of Preston forced him to retire. The places he had taken were recovered by the earl of Inchiquin, and having encamped at a pass in Ballaghnon, (" since called Owen Roe's pass"),* to cut off the provisions from Inchiquin's camp; the two armies lay for a fortnight in sight of each other, and Owen narrowly escaped a defeat, on which he stole away in the night and left an empty camp to his enemies. We have in this memoir hitherto endeavoured to follow the course of the events mainly affecting the fortunes of Owen O'Neile, and of the nuncio Rinuncini, with whom he was throughout connected, considering that thus we should take the most appropriate occasion to * Carte. The offer a more distinct account of a person so conspicuous for the part he acted in this eventful juncture. The union between these two remarkable persons, was now approaching its close. The marquess of Ormonde at last returned once more to Ireland, to urge forward the treaty for peace, and it was concluded on January 17th, 1649. death of the king was followed by the proclamation of his son, through all the towns in Ireland; and Rinuncini, who had exhausted all his resources and all his arts, and still lingered hoping against hope, and though defeated still returning to the vain trial—at last began in these decisive events to perceive the inutility of a further struggle against the strong current, and resolved to depart until he should be enabled to enter the field with fresh resources and increased authority. Leaving his last instructions to Owen O'Neile to be firm and faithful, and to hold out for the pope till his return, he embarked in his own ship in Galway, and on the 2d March landed in Normandy. The history of O'Neile may now be briefly pursued to its termination. Only desirous to preserve the armed posture on which all his prospects were dependent, and ready to join with all parties whose views tended to war, and might sustain his military importance, he formed an alliance with Jones the general of the independents; and by this step, contrived to preserve his affairs for some time, and to maintain a large body of men at the expense of the parliamentary general. In this position he was courted by both parties, and in turn listened and consented to each. Owen continued for some time to co-operate with the parliamentary generals; but after having performed considerable services in the north, he soon discovered that he was held in contempt by his new allies, who purchased his assistance from necessity alone. In consideration of 2000 cows, he raised the siege of Londonderry, where Coote, who held that city for the parliament, was besieged.* The alliance between these leaders and their Irish mercenary was explicitly censured by the parliament, which refused to confirm the articles of their treaty with him. He was compelled to retire, and soon after received proposals from the marquess of Ormonde, to declare for the king; he consented, and soon after came to an agreement to act with that nobleman against his late ungrateful patrons. So early as February 20th, 1649, letters of credence had been signed by him, by the bishop of Clogher, and by general Farrel, empowering F. Nugent, a capuchin, to assure the king of his submission upon the condition of their being included in the act of oblivion, of enjoying liberty of conscience, and of O'Neile's commanding an army under his majesty's authority, provided for in the same manner as the rest of his majesty's forces, and being advanced to the dignity of an earl.t So far he was at length seemingly in view of the main object of all his labours. In the mean time, his engagement with the parliamentary leaders had taken place; and it was not till the affront here mentioned, exposed the vanity of all expectations from the independents, that be returned to a party which his natural sagacity must have perceived to be the weaker. On the 12th October, he signed articles with Ormonde, by which he engaged to bring an army to his assistance His death saved him from a sad and rapid reverse, and in all probability from a disgraceful end. From the parliamentary leaders who were so soon to change the current of events, he could not even expect the poor compromise of being allowed to live. His character seems to have been vastly overrated by his countrymen : nor have we been enabled to find ground for unqualified praise even on this least questionable pretension, that of military talent. He was assuredly discreet and sagacious; and if he was not free from the excitement of the vindictive passions, they did not at least carry him so far as in any instance to lose sight of interest or safety. Of any of the higher principles of action, which govern and dignify the deeds of great men, he was utterly devoid; a consistent and steady adoption of every friendship and every party which manifested the power and will to promote his own personal ends, was the virtue of his life- -a virtue, only to be so named in a very enlarged acceptation of the term, as it implies nothing either honourable or good. Of the sincerity of his religious professions we cannot form any estimate, and must presume them sincere, though his religion had no power to elevate his conduct, he was not less disinterested or less beneficent in the ends for which he acted, or the means by which he sought them, than his spiritual patron and confederate, the Abbe Rinuncini. If his first appearance upon the scene of Irish affairs, his character appears to some advantage, this advantage is due to contrast with those who were less unprincipled, but more rude, barbarous, and violent than himself. The habits of a gentleman, and the manners contracted in foreign camps and courts, are, unhappily, not inconsistent with selfishness, cruelty, and vice; but they materially smooth the outward front and gestures of those deep and indelible faults of human character. The knowledge of good and evil, the fear of opinion, and the necessity of being first inured to any decided course of evil, all tend to repress superfluous outrage and retard the career of crime. Knowledge, fortunately indeed, though its power is little to "mend the heart," has yet a strong power to repress those evil impulses of which it can unfold the consequences and point out the disgrace; yet such considerations apply only with much qualification to the actors of the time actually under review; and when by chance our pen betrays us into such distinctions, we soon must recollect that we are wandering from our purpose. upon O'Neile did not live to fulfil his part of the articles last mentioned. In the beginning of December. he died at Cloghater castle, in the county of Cavan. Patrick, Ninth Lord Dunsany. BORN A. D. 1588-DIED A. D. 1668. We have already mentioned the conduct of the Roman catholic noblemen of the pale, and the rash and unfair treatment by which they were forced into rebellion. Among these, none other held a more respectable place than the noble lord whose name precedes this article. We however notice him here, not for any high prominence, either in his individual character, or for his achievements in peace or war, but as he merits commemoration for his humane and manly conduct during a time, and under circumstances of unparalleled emergency and distress. We also take the occasion which a brief and summary notice will afford, to insert a paper of his writing which may assist in elucidating and authenticating to the reader's satisfaction, some observations we have made, and more we shall hereafter have occasion to make on the conduct of the government in that period which must occupy our attention through this volume. The reader is already acquainted with the history of this ancient family. The ninth lord Dunsany was born in 1588. He had not completed his ninth year, when, according to Lodge, his father died. We do not, of course, profess to comprehend the rule by which Mr Lodge has made the computation. But as he places the father's death in 1603, we should observe, that by the common method of reckoning, the young lord must have attained his fifteenth year. His mother was murdered on the 9th March, 1609. A female servant was executed for the murder; but some time after, a man who was condemned for some other felony, confessed himself to have been her murderer. This lord Dunsany was present at the parliament in 1613 He was rated at one hundred pounds to the subsidy granted to the king in 1615. In 1617, he surrendered his estates, and obtained a new title by grant from the king, and a few years after obtained considerable additions to his estate in the King's and Queen's counties, and in Westmeath, in consideration of lands surrendered to lord Lambert in the north. His lordship bore an active part in the parliamentary proceedings of 1634. We now approach the period in which he comes under historic notice. On the breaking out of the rebellion of 1641, he promptly presented himself before the lords-justices, and offered his assistance for the suppression of the rebellion. The offer was not accepted. The lordsjustices commanded him to go home, as they at that time did every other lord who was under the same circumstances, a Roman catholic, or not of their own immediate party. Lord Dunsany returned home for the protection of his family, and manned his castle-which soon became the refuge of the hunted and persecuted protestants-and even for the miserable and insufficient soldiery which was kept up in the county of Meath. Having made Dunsany castle a place of strength and security, he repaired with his family to his house at Castlecor, which he also strengthened in like manner for a general sanctuary for the persecuted and defenceless. While resident at this place, many occurrences put his courage, firmness, and humanity to the proof, and as they have been registered among the depositions of witnesses on their oath in courts of justice, may be regarded as permanent testimonials of his worth. During the siege of Drogheda, the Irish besiegers were highly discontented with the protection given by his lordship to the persons and property of the English; so much so that the people began to say that he kept a hornet's nest of Eng |