unprincipled league for power, at the expense of consistency; and a few much respected members of the old Whig party, whose accusations were less precise, but who seemed to dislike it only because persons once their antagonists formed a branch of it; an objection to which every coalition must be equally liable. The answer to all these attacks is plain and simple. The inconsistency would have been in men continuing the conflict when they were no longer divided in their sentiments; the unnatural conduct would have been for men to attack their natural allies and join their natural enemies; the disregard of principle would have been shown by those who sacrificed their public duty to personal views, and regardless of their pledged opinions, sought the gratification of personal feelings, not the less personal, nor the more amiable, because they were those of hatred, jealousy, or vexation.

But suppose we come down to a more humble level in the argument, and listen to the suggestion, why did the Whigs join Mr Canning, when, by holding out, they must have occasioned a total change? We are far from being satisfied that such a change was preferable to the united Ministry; we are sure the union was more acceptable to the country as well as to the court; but we answer the question as it is put, and after the manner of our nation, we answer it by propounding another— What was to hinder Mr Canning from joining his former colleagues, and submitting to fill a second place, a submission which the Whigs would then have forced him to? If he found himself disappointed in the estimate he had formed of his new allies; if he found that all their regard for their common principles could not overcome their selfish lust of power, or mitigate their equally selfish hatred of him, had he not a right to distrust them, and to prefer any government which perpetuated their exclusion? Then, suppose he had been driven out of office, was there no chance of his rejoining his former colleagues, and no possibility of this union effecting at court the downfall of a party, which had showed so little moderation as to gain no credit with the Sovereign, and so little regard for its long professed principles, as to lose all respect in the country? As for the only other event that can be stated, it may be spoken of, but it surely cannot be conceived possible; we allude to the Whigs joining those ministers who had resigned, and uniting with them in opposing their liberal colleagues. We at once pronounce so prodigious an inconsistency impossible. It would have been abandoning all their principles either to storm the government, or spite a former opponent, whose recent conduct upon all great questions of policy they had loudly applauded.

It was as impossible for them to think of such a course, as it now would be for those most eminent and respected individuals, whose alienation from the government we join the whole country in deploring, to unite themselves with men, whom they differ from upon every question of public policy, and to seek with them the overthrow of a Ministry, all whose principles they profess.

In the remarks which we have made, nothing, we trust, has escaped us, tending to evince the least disrespect for the principles of party, so essential to the existence of a free government. Those attachments arising from similarity of principle, are in truth the very ground-work of our argument. They have in all good times, and among the best men, been held pure and patriotic bonds of union; honourable to the individuals, profitable to the commonwealth. Nevertheless, it is impossible to deny, that in proportion as the body of the people become more enlightened, and take a more constant interest in the management of their own affairs, such combinations becoming less necessary, lose somewhat of the public favour; and we believe that at no period of our history, did, what is called 'Party,' enjoy less popularity and exert less influence with the bulk of the community. It may indeed be affirmed with safety, that the efforts and the personal weight of individuals, have, of late years, done far more to keep alive the power and authority of Parties, than the influence of party has done for the protection of their particular members. A new casting also of political sects has taken place; the distinctions, and almost the names, of Loyalist and Jacobin, Whig and Tory, Court and Country Faction, are fast wearing away. Two great divisions of the community will, in all likelihood, soon be far more generally known; the Liberal and the Illiberal, who will divide, but we may be sure most unequally, the suffrages of the Nation.

Nor is it in name only that this arrangement will be new; the people will be differently distributed; the coalition, which has been gradually forming among the public men whose personal respect and mutual confidence has brought about so fortunate a union, extends to the community at large. Some of the older questions, by which Whig and Tory were wont to be divided, retain all their importance; but, upon these, the Liberal party, of whatever denomination, are well agreed. Indeed, it used to be a saying of Mr Wilberforce, when he regarded the importance of those questions, compared with the ones they still differed about, that he would not answer to the name of Tory; conveying thereby, as that great man is wont, a lesson of his mild wisdom with the relish of attractive and harmless

wit. The only consequence with respect to doctrines which such a junction can produce, is likely to be beneficial both to the State and to the progress of sound opinion. Extremes will be avoided; alterations in our system will be gradual; and the only risk which the existence, or the measures of a Liberal Government could run, will be avoided,-that of a reaction against them,— when it is distinctly perceived by all men, that we are governed by individuals, whose great parts are under the control of sound discretion, and whose conduct is, in all things, tempered with the moderation of practical wisdom.*

*The affairs of the Peninsula are perhaps the topic most likely to bring on a conflict between the Ministry and its opponents. Of the latter, one class, the Ex-Ministers, can hardly, without the most reckless inconsistency, object to a policy in which themselves joined their deceased colleague; the other, and we grieve to say, one or two of them are among the foremost names in the history of later times, can only object to the tardiness of English interference, which (we fully admit) would have been effectual some years back, and we believe would have been applied, had Mr Canning not been new in office. No man (we may really say no two men), in either House, can blame the interference of last December, whatever be the event. The course of our observations in the text did not lead us to discuss particular questions of policy, otherwise this must have claimed especial consideration. We greatly dread the design of the Portuguese expedition being too far pursued. Men in this Government are so apt to think only of Parliamentary effect, that we earnestly wish our Ministers may look to the principle of their conduct alone, and disregard the utmost clamour which the most inauspicious results can raise against them. It should never be forgotten, that the Interference was justified by one only consideration; we armed to keep foreign armies from overthrowing the Portuguese Constitution. On no other ground can we for an instant defend the armament. But if the people of Portugal, left to themselves, declare against that Constitution; if they overturn it, or break in upon it, or submit to a tyrant, and aid him in his attempts to enslave them, or quietly yield to these attempts-the British army is not there to take either part, and its interposition would be a violation of all duty, and in defiance of all the principles of the armament itself. In truth, such an interference would justify France and Spain in fitting out an expedition against ours. We are there, be it ever remembered, not to support any form of Government, but only to defend the country against foreign aggression.

ART. VII.-The History of Ireland. By JOHN O'DRISCOL. In two volumes 8vo. pp. 815. London, 1827.

A

GOOD History of Ireland is still a desideratum in our literature; and would not only be interesting, we think, but invaluable. There are accessible materials in abundance for such a history; and the task of arranging them really seems no less inviting than important. It abounds with striking events, and with strange revolutions and turns of fortunebrought on, sometimes by the agency of enterprising men,but more frequently by the silent progress of time, unwatched and unsuspected, alike by those who were to suffer, and those who were to gain by the result. In this respect, as well as in many others, it is as full of instruction as of interest, and to the people of this country especially, and of this age, it holds out lessons far more precious, far more forcible, and far more immediately applicable, than all that is elsewhere recorded in the annals of mankind. It is the very greatness of this interest, however, and the dread and encouragement of these applications, that have hitherto defaced and even falsified the record that have made impartiality almost hopeless, and led alternately to the suppression and the exaggeration of suffering and atrocities too monstrous, it might appear, in themselves, to be either exaggerated or disguised. Party rancour and religious animosity have hitherto contrived to convert what should have been their antidote into their aliment,-and, by the simple expedient of giving only one side of the picture, have pretty generally succeeded in making the history of past enormities, not a warning against, but an incitement to, their repetition. In telling the story of these lamentable dissensions, each party has enhanced the guilt of the adversary, and withheld all notice of their own;-and seems to have had it far more at heart to irritate and defy each other, than to leave even a partial memorial of the truth. That truth is, no doubt, for the most part, at once revolting and pitiable;-not easily, at first, to be credited, and to the last difficult to be told with calmness. Yet it is thus only that it can be told with advantage-and so told, it is pregnant with admonitions and suggestions, as precious in their tenor, as irresistible in their evidence, when once fairly received.

Unquestionably, in the main, England has been the oppressor, and Ireland the victim-not always a guiltless victim,—and it may be, often an offender; but even when the guilt may have been nearly balanced, the weight of suffering has always fallen on the weakest. This comparative weakness, indeed, was the

first cause of Ireland's misery-the second, her long separation. She had been too long a weak neighbour, to be easily admitted to the rights of an equal ally. Pretensions which the growing strength and intelligence of the one country began to feel intolerable, were sanctioned in the eyes of the other by long usage and prescription;-and injustice, which never could have been first inflicted when it was first complained of, was yet persisted in, because it had been long submitted to with but little complaint. No misgovernment is ever so bad as provincial misgovernment-and no provincial misgovernment, it would seem, as that of a free people,-whether arising from a jealous reluctance to extend that proud distinction to a race of inferiors, or from that inherent love of absolute power, which gives all rulers a tendency to be despotic, and seeks, when restrained at home, for vent and indemnification abroad.

The actual outline of the story is as clear as it is painful. Its most remarkable and most disgusting feature is, that while Religion has been made the pretext of its most sanguinary and atrocious contentions, it has been, from first to last, but a cover for the basest cupidity, and the meanest and most unprincipled ambition. The history which concerns the present times, need not be traced farther back than the days of Henry VIII. and Queen Mary. Up to that period, the petty and tyrannical Parliaments of the Pale had, indeed, pretty uniformly insulted and despised the great chiefs among whom the bulk of the island was divided-but they had also feared them, and let them alone. At that era, however, the growing strength and population of England inspired it with a bolder ambition, and the rage of proselytism which followed the Reformation, gave it both occasion and excuse. The passions which led naturally enough to hostilities, in such circumstances, were industriously fostered by the coldblooded selfishness of those who were to profit by the result. Insurrections were now regularly followed by forfeiture; and there were by this time men and enterprise enough in England to meditate the occupancy of the vast domains from which the rebel chieftains were thus to be driven. From this period, accordingly, to that of the Restoration, the bloodiest and most atrocious in her unhappy annals, the history of Ireland may be summarily described as that of a series of sanguinary wars, fomented for the purposes of Confiscation. After the Restoration, and down till the Revolution, this was succeeded by a contest equally unprincipled and mercenary, between the settlers under Cromwell and the old or middle occupants whom they had displaced. By the final success of King William, a strong military government was once more imposed on this unhappy land, under which its spirit scem