liverer of the English, obliged to give up to their selfishness, and national hatred of the Irish, the treaty of Limerick, can it be imagined, that a subdued monarch, captive, in the hands of his irritated and triumphant subjects, could stickle for private engagements, made with a people odious to them; whom, at any rate, they were resolved to crush? Equally, or more absurd, to refer to concessions, which the king might make hereafter. The king's restoration could reasonably be expected but by the sword, or accommodation. If by the former, of which there was not the slightest probability, he would become an absolute monarch; and what use he might make of unlimited power, they might conjecture, from his having plundered the Irish, for many years, by his tyrannic inquisition into pretended defective titles. If the latter, the Irish must be given up to their sworn enemies. No private engagements would be acknowledged; no public treaties held binding.

The defeat of the confederates was not owing to the spiritual weapons of the clergy, but to the carnal weapons of their enemies. The assaults on religion, persons and property, produced the confederation; the pretended peace produced the rupture, for which it was intended, and which purpose alone it could serve, at that time, and in that form. A peace, which was made contrary to instructions; which surrendered every article, for the recovery and security of which the confederation was formed; and which they were bound by the solemu oath of association not to relin

quish; and which to abandon, independent of said oath, would be mean and dastardly, unless excused by the extreme of necessity. A peace, which none but a proud conqueror, or impudent impostor, could present; and which, in their circumstances, none of the Irish could hail, except those settlers, whose souls were fettered and manacled by the panic alarm of claims on forfeited lands, and dead to every feeling of honour, religion and patriotism. A peace, as insecure as it was degrading, shameful and treasonable; against the country, without a guarantee for the performance of the wretched contract. Granted, then, that the said imposition had been generally submitted to, by the confederates; what mighty benefits would accrue to the king and country therefrom? would it liberate the king from the Scots, and place him on the throne? It was then too late to think of such romantic exploits. Their forces, were they even not divided, were not adequate to the conquest of England and Scotland; and they had not shipping, to convey or defend them on their passage. Neither France or Spain gave any countenance to favour such a bold attempt; on the contrary, they held correspondence with the rebel parliament. Would it secure the inhabitants in their religious or civil liberty? The former was absolutely given up; and persecution was sanctioned, as toleration was not so much as mentioned in a public treaty, between the persecuted and the persecutor. For the latter, there was no satisfactory voucher. The king could not sign it; and, if he could, his signature

was no pledge, as observed before. He could disavow one treaty, as he did another. He could violate his word; as he did more than once his oath. And how could the confederates expect, that one would fulfill his engagement with them, who broke their solemn engagements, by assenting to so ruinous and vile a measure? Further, the king's signature would be nothing, without the approbation of parliament; a body sworn to extirpation of popery and Irishmen. Where the youcher then? Ormond. What! The puritanic betrayer of his trust; the constant defaulter in all his dealings with the Irish; the partizan and creature of the covenanters. Their sanguinary and perfidious instrument; slaughtering and plundering his countrymen, with whom he never treated but to deceive; never kept a treaty, but during convenience: the obstinate foe of the cessation, and of real, solid peace, until the period was elapsed when they might naturally benefit king and country; and who, at length, filled up the measure of his treasons, by delivering up the executive power, together with his majesty's castles, troops, stores, and the capital of the kingdom, to the mortal enemies of the king, and of the Irish. What would any treaty avail, with a remorseless tyrant, and arrant imposter; who, while publicly mocking the confederates with feigned negotiation, was privately contracting with the rebel covenanters of Ulster, and other parts, to fall on them; and was, during his sham parleying, committing waste and havoc in different parts of the country; to prove to his

real masters, the Westminster rebels, that negotiation gave the Irish no respite from the calamities of war? Had that peace been generally submitted to, and he, and bis treasonable packed junta, misnamed Irish parliament, been authorized to levy taxes and troops, it was not difficult to divine for whose service. The English parliament was surrounded by a horde of greedy expectants, raised by the rebellion and revolution, thirsting for Irish blood and forfeitures, like hungry wolves. These must be satisfied, and a revolutionary interest established, through confiscations and new plantations. Ormond's appetite was as keen as any of theirs, for the spoils of his countrymen; as the sequel proved, in the pains he took to recommend his interests to the English parliament, and to earn the sollicited remuneration, by strenuously co-operating with their plans. His reward did not fall short of his services to them, or their promise to him; which was punctually awarded by the son of Charles; who acted as if he accepted the crown on such a compact, as passed between the Roman triumvirate, to proscribe his zealous partizans, and perfect all the engagements of the regicide faction, by rewarding their creatures with the forfeitures of the oppressed loyalists. The marquis became duke of Ormond, count palatine of Tipperary, with full jurisdiction and royalties in that county; had all his debts discharged, and large accessions to his ample patrimony; and, to make this bonne bouche the more relishing, his character was screened from public detestation,

by attributing these royal grants not to the real source, his services to the enemies of king and country, but as the meet of pretended loyalty, and services to both. Had the viceroy even been a good man, loyal subject, and true patriot, the treaty was inadmissable; as being unjust, insecure and injurious. It was unjust; because it sacrificed the religious interests of the nation, and the temporal interests of a great and meritorious part, to the imaginary safety of the leading settlers. It was insecure, as aforesaid; destitute of pledge or guarantee of any kind. The word of a viceroy, though of the strictest honour, was no guarantee for a transaction, that involved the dearest interests of posterity; because his performance of articles could not extend beyond his stay in office, from which he might be removed by death; and would, assuredly, by an order from England, if detected in favouring the Irish, or administring partial justice.

What, then, were the bad consequences, proceeding from the conduct of the nuncio and the Irish clergy? Was it the ruin of the king? Those, who opposed the treaty, as dishonourable, injurious and unstable, warmly recommended the sending of reinforcements to the king, independently of any treaty. But, indeed, the period was clapsed, when the confederates might interfere for the king with effect. For, after the forces were stationed on the coast, ready to embark, and delayed only by want of shipping to carry them across, a few ships at length arriving, the king, whether from humanity, policy, or both, forbad