and superstitious kings; and some inhabitants of these monasteries have, in their account of them, related what they knew concerning the events of those times. But Mr. Hume has observed, respecting them, "that they lived remote from public affairs, considered the civil transactions subordinate to the ecclesiastical; and besides, partaking of the ignorance and barbarity which were then universal, were strongly infected with credulity, with the love of wonder, and with a propensity to imposture." To repeat instances of this ignorance is unnecessary at present. Nor can we repose confidence in the relations of men, who were devoted to a power, whose repeated encroachments were the cause of frequent disturbances; men, who have done every thing they could to defame those who had sense and courage sufficient to withstand their innovations, whilst they praise in the most extravagant terms all those who were the instruments of papal tyranny; men, who to bigotry and superstition, united ignorance and credulity. Thus, we find these monks abusing the un

fortunate Edwey, whilst his brother, Edgar, who supported them is extolled as a pious and virtuous man, as well as a great king, though they themselves record actions inconsistent with the former part of the character. This subject has lately been brought into notice by the work of Lingard, who, in a more guarded manner than his predecessors on the same side, has laboured to establish the misconduct of Edwey, and to vindicate the interference of the clergy. But it is time to stop. Whether the subject be ever renewed or not, the chief object is at tained, to show that the early history of our country is so obscure and uncertain, that little that is recorded can be relied on; that the modern com pilers, deriving their information from the same authority, widely differ among themselves, and that our details, whenever entered upon, can be regarded as little, if at all, better than romances. Yet men who reject Christianity for its deficiency of evidence, do not hesitate to receive these vague accounts, as entitled to credit.

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I am not of the class of mawkish sentimentalists, who would bury in oblivion every recollection of such events these ; and would breathe not the name" even of the principal traitor.On the contrary, if punishment of crime be intended rather to warn others, than to visit with vengeance the guilty individual, how can such warning be more effectually given, than by recalling public attention to historical events, not growing out of accident, but generated in the same systematic disaffection to English connexion and English law, for so many centuries prevalent in Ireland, and at this day not less prevalent than ever? But, if a warning of this nature may be salutary to the governed, occasions may occur, where even governors may, if they will, reap benefit from it. And in this view, the case of Emmet's insurrection is of peculiar weight. The project* of a wild enthusiast to seize, in a time of tranquillity, with the aid of a few hundred undisciplined and illarmed ruffians, the castle of Dublin, the seat of His Majesty's government, situate in the heart of a great city, this would seem so preposterous as only to excite a smile. But yet, if it be true,

that his Majesty's government was so circumstanced on the 23d of July, 1803, that in ten minutes it might have been surprised even in its head-quarters, its guard overpowered, its principal members massacred or imprisoned, its arsenals and its treasury seized, its functions usurped, and all its powers wielded (for a time at least) by an able and successful desperado, supported by four-fifths of the population-if all this was even possible, under a Tory government and a Pitt administration, and not five years after the rebellion of 1798, and with a strong garrison, and three thousand loyal and disciplined yeomanry within sound of its alarmbell-if this were barely possible then, who shall say that the lesson may not be studied with advantage by the present government of Ireland, and at the present day? I do not indeed expect that advice offered through your pages, will be received with complacency, but facts will speak for themselves; and if they be doubted, as coming through the medium of a Conservative Journal, inquiry may at least be excited, and that will be enough.

Now, as to facts; my own recollection agrees in general with your narrative. For it is a matter of no essential importance that your narrator is (I believe) mistaken in saying, that the mangled body of the lamented Lord Chief Justice was brought into the castle. He was removed, while yet alive, from the scene of murder, to a watch-house, situate hard by in Vicar's street, as the nearest public place.And it was here stretched on the bare boards, and in the very agonies of death, that in controuling the natural

There is, however, a fact of much higher consequence, as it bears on the charge impliedly conveyed by the narrative, that Mr. Marsden treated with too much slight, the information offered by Mr. Clarke. It is but justice to lay before the public all the circumstances that occurred between those gentlemen, as stated by Mr. Clarke himself in his evidence upon oath.

I quote from Mr. Ridgeway's report of the trial of Thomas Donnelly and others; Exshaw, 1803.

Mr. Clarke, it appears, was called upon as a witness, on the trials of two of his men, who were taken in arms on the night of the 23d. He was called on their behalf to say what he could in their favour as to character; and, after having borne testimony highly creditable to his own character and feelings, the following cross-examination by Mr. Attorney-General took place.

Q. "Did you, Mr. Clarke, meet with any accident that night?"

A. "I did-I was fired at upon Arran quay, when I was returning from the castle of Dublin, between nine and ten o'clock-it was a very little after nine-I was waylaid at the corner of a lane leading up to Smithfield, by three or four men armed with blunderbusses, One of them stept forward, and cried out, where have you been, informing and fired. My horse had turned obliquely to him, and I received the shot in the shoulder. The blunderbuss, being heavily loaded, burst, and thirteen slugs were lodged in me my horse galloped off, and they fired two blunderbusses more after me. A ball passed by my shoulder and another hit my hat-one shot struck me across the nose, which bled very much. I returned to the castle, gave information of what happened, and remained there that night."

Q. Had you been at the castle, upon the subject in the course of that day before?"

A. "I had; and the day before, and the day before that."

Q.Mention the communication which you had with Mr. Marsden on Saturday."

A. "On Saturday, I was confirmed

more in my opinion of the certainty of the rising, than I was on Friday; but I had notice of it on Thursday, and on that day I gave notice of it at the castle. But upon Friday I was less certain than upon Thursday, but said I would make every enquiry. On Saturday morning, I got more certain and sure that every thing base and barbarous would go forward. I came into town immediately-I got two or three expresses on my way, particularly from a loyal house in this town, and from a Roman Catholic priest, that there would be a rising. I told Mr. Marsden of this, and begged he would take proper steps to prevent it. He said to me, "You have changed your mind very suddenly." I said "I had so," but Î gave him the reasons for it. He seemed satisfied, and asked me when I would leave town. He intended, I believe, to have me examined by the Privy Council, I said I would wait at my warehouse in town at Mr. O'Brien's, and he said he would send for me. He did not send, and I went to the castle at four o'clock. On Friday, Mr. Marsden had desired me to call the next morning; and as I came into town, I observed groupes of men consulting and whispering together about Newtown Clarke and Palmerstown, and avoiding me when they saw me, in the manner they appeared previous to the last rebellion,'

Q. "Did you ask at the castle for any military aid?” A. "I did."

Q. "Was a military aid sent accordingly?"

A. "There was."

Q. "Then I collect from you, Mr. Clarke, that any information you gave was received with attention at the castle, and when assistance was required, it was granted to you."

A. Most certainly. I always experienced the greatest attention and civility, and Mr. Marsden, always, in my opinion, wished to do every thing in his power to prepare for the event

and I was sorry to see reflections upon him in an English Paper; I am satisfied he did not deserve them."

Mr. Attorney-General.—“ My Lord,

I am glad this opportunity has occurred to refute the slanders which have been published either by ignorance or malice. Mr. Clarke, you have done yourself great honour, and your country real service."

Your readers will think it right that the whole case made on the part of the government should be before them :— and I am certain that nobody will impute to your narrator any designed suppression of facts, in not stating what, very probably, he was not apprized of. But what opinion will be formed of the vigilance of the government is another question. It is to be lamented, that Mr Marsden did not act upon Mr. Clarke's first information, and at least, order some arms and ammunition from the Magazine. A few tumbrils rolling through the streets, with their escort, might indeed have alarmed the timid, but would have put the brave on the alert, and above all, would have shewn the conspirators that they were discovered ;-would have broken their spirit, and destroyed their confidence; and thus the catastrophe might have been averted. Then, again; why was not the Privy Council assembled on the morning of Saturday, as Mr. Marsden appears to have intended ?There was ample time still for every necessary preparation.*

And of the reality of the traiterous design, there could scarcely then exist any doubt, for it was not only from Captain Wilcox and Mr. Clarke that intelligence was conveyed to the castle, during that day. Stewart King, Esq. (a Master in Chancery, and who shortly before had become Captain Commandant of the Lawyers' corps (infantry) on the resignation of the beloved William Saurin) had early that morning received credible information of the meditated insurrection. Mr. King was a man of great energy and decision of character in and previous to 1798, as adjutant to the Lawyers' corps, he had

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displayed considerable military talent, and was looked up to and confided in, not merely by his own corps, but by all the loyal yeomen in and about Dublin. He was a person likely to receive good information, and not likely to be deceived in it-and in this instance he was not deceived. What his reception at the castle was I will not say, having no certain knowledge of it. The utmost he could effect, however, was, a sort of permission to have his drums in readiness, and to beat to arms in case of necessity, with an intimation, however, (as I understood from him) that if he caused a groundless alarm, the peril was his.

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It was past ten o'clock at night, and I was sitting with my family in my drawing-room in street, when my wife called my attention to an unusual sound in the direction of Merrion Square. Listening attentively, I recognized the highly exciting “beat to arms," and exclaiming that they were "our drums" I was in a very few minutes clad, armed and accoutred; and repairing to our appointed alarm-post in Merrion Square, I soon joined a number of my brethren, whom the same cause had brought together; many yeomen of other corps, and many unattached individuals assembled with us. were marched for some time through the city in various directions, but at length were ordered into the castle, and our column halted in the upper castle-yard. It must have been then near twelve; the attempt had failed, as it afterwards proved, and the mischief was done. But, frequently, during the night, a shot or two in the western direction would rouse our attention; and in the total ignorance of all that had happened, and the confidence that our Captain had not brought us out for nothing, we remained for some hours in a state of anxious suspense.

An excellent brother lawyer and brother soldier of mine, poor V., in

speaking of the days and nights that we had been in arms together in the rebellion of 1798, used to say, with his own peculiar emphasis-" for my part I never passed my time more happily or pleasantly than during the rage of that cruel, savage, and unnatural rebellion." Now, let no agitator of the present day, in the plenitude of his virtuous indignation, exclaim at the illiberality and ill-nature which would affix such epithets to the deeds of the suffering patriots of 1798. My friend V. was neither illiberal nor ill-natured. His character was quite the contrary. But, feeling as he did, in common with every Irish Gentleman, deep pity for the delusions which had been so successfully practised upon our poor ignorant and excitable peasantry; he felt also that even for their own sakes, strong measures had become necessary; measures in the execution of which every Irish yeoman took his assigned part, not as a matter of pleasure, but of positive duty and stern necessity. No, what my friend meant to convey by his droll antithesis was, what, in our corps at least, was unquestionable. Well acquainted, in general, with each other, and necessarily thrown together for the greater part of each day, amongst us, the hours that were not employed abroad in the duties of patrol or sentry, were passed in our guard-room in very joyous conviviality: any approach to excess, indeed, the strictness of our discipline prohibited; but when a party returned from duty with a prospect of an hour or two of respite-and when they proceeded to spread their suppermeal, and the havresack yielded its its bread and cheese or ham and chicken and the flask poured forth its moderate allowance, sufficient to "cheer but not inebriate," then there was an unrestrained flow of good humour and hilarity, and the laugh and the joke went round, and the adventures of the last patrol the houses that had been searched, and the scenes that had been disclosed, and all the achievements of the night related, each by the hero of his tale, afforded sources of neverfailing merriment. The repast ended, some, stretched on a camp-bed reposed; or to some a book, or quiet conversation served to pass the time, till the all-stirring call of the door-sentry"turn out the guard!" caused a general

move, and then in a moment hastened forth the whole party. falling into their ranks with the steadiness of practised soldiers, to undergo the inspection of the field officer of the night, or to be told off for the next routine of duty: meantime a party who had been just relieved, would return, and the same jocund meal with all its accompaniments, again filled the room with mirth and jollity. Yes, at the peril of the wrath even of the Arch-Agitator himself, and at the risque of exciting all the sensibilities of him of the Irish Heart," I do declare, with my friend V., that I never passed my time more pleasantly. And it is a matter of joy to me to reflect that, without having ever purposely avoided my turn in any duty, it never fell to my lot to be called to discharge any of a painful nature.

Once, indeed, in the rebellion of 1798, I was for a few hours in momentary expectation of serious encounter. It was on a fine warm night in the beginning of June; my party was stationed at one of the canal bridges; and the men who were not on actual duty were, as usual, scattered about in groups, near the guard-house, under the trees or on the grass, indulging in their accustomed pleasantries, when suddenly was heard to come dashing up the road, a mounted officer, his horse covered with foam. The guard of course had been turned out, on his approach being notified by our outsentries. He communicated briefly with our commanding officer Lieutenant B. and then rode at the same rapid pace towards the next station. On his departure, B. gave us to understand that we must be on the alert, for that positive information had been received by Government, that the rebels intended to descend from the mountains and make an attack, that night, on the canal bridges as the principal passes into town, or perhaps to effect a junction with their friends on the northern side. We were formed into a column of sections in the centre of the bridge, a position which we were ordered to maintain; and were put once or twice through the evolution of "street firing," as being probably that to which we should have occasion to resort. Thus we remained until day-light; and opposite to us, and in full view, were the mountains, which we knew were then