While the parties were thus struggling in France, and there seemed a chance of an entire change of feeling, the English ministry, very seriously anxious for peace, again opened negotiations. The Preliminaries of Léoben had in fact removed what should have been the sole difficulty; it was ridiculous that England should continue to hold out on the subject of the Low Countries when Austria had herself entered into a private treaty to abandon them. A passport was therefore demanded, and, somewhat unfortunately, Lord Malmesbury was again fixed upon as the negotiator. He went to Lisle, presented his plan of a treaty, and had every reason to believe that all was going well. England consented to restore all her conquests with the exception of the Isle of Trinidad, the Cape of Good Hope, and Ceylon. But this was at the very moment when the quarrel was at its height in Paris; intent upon its own affairs, the Directory suffered the negotiations to drag on, and when at length the republican party won their victory on the 18th Fructidor, the negotiations were suddenly broken off on the old ground that Malmesbury had not got full authority. The real reason is obvious,—the party in power, who relied on the army, knew that the power of the army was immensely increased by a state of war.

The termination of the negotiations was at once followed by a vigorous continuation of the war. Lord Malmesbury had been but a few weeks in England when the Dutch fleet found itself ready at length to sail from the Texel. But the delay—caused by the weather, the absence of Hoche, and the factions of Paris—had almost deprived it of its terrors. Even when the greater part of his fleet had been in mutiny in the Thames, Duncan had maintained the appearance of a blockade; keeping his two faithful ships within sight of the land, he had kept up so regular a succession of signals, as though sending his orders to a fleet outside, that the Dutch never found out that there were only two ships watching them. When at length they sailed Duncan's fleet outnumbered theirs by one ship. He had withdrawn for an instant to Yarmouth roads to refit, but apprised in time, he was enabled to fall upon the Dutch fleet before it had left the coast of Holland. He contrived, although the enemy was in close order, to come between them and the shore, and after a close combat, which recalled the old days of the rivalry between England and Holland, by four o'clock on the 11th of October he had succeeded in capturing the flagship of Admiral Winter, together with seven other ships of the line, two 56-gun ships, and two frigates. The bold manœuvre of passing between the enemy and the shore was a source of some danger, as the fleets drifted close inland during the action, but Duncan skilfully saved both his own fleet and his prizes. The action was watched by crowds from the Dutch shore. This battle put an end to the danger of immediate invasion, though it seems to have inspired the French with a determination to carry on that invasion on a larger scale in the following year, when great preparations were made under the personal superintendence of Bonaparte.

The breach of negotiations at Lisle was followed on the 17th of October by the completion of the Peace of Campo Formio, which had been begun by the Preliminaries of Léoben. This peace secured to France the possession of Belgium, the left bank of the Rhine, and the Ionian Isles, and acknowledged the establishment of the Cisalpine Republic, consisting of the provinces conquered in Italy from the Austrians, the Pope, and Venice; while Austria received in exchange Venice itself and its eastern provinces, Friuli, Istria, and Dalmatia. France thus lay not only triumphant in Europe, but with the Rhine for its frontier, and for outposts four republics pledged to uphold its revolutionary ideas. But in acquiring this position the rights of peoples had been trampled upon, Switzerland had been appended to France, the occupation of Rome had seemed to give colour to the assertion that the Revolution was atheistical, and the whole turn of events was such as to justify, even to necessitate, subsequent European interference.

The peculiar manner in which Ireland has been conquered, peopled, and managed, renders questions regarding this country most intricate and difficult. There is seldom a single interest to be traced which is not crossed by numerous side winds, which render the development of political questions crooked and complicated. The Roman Catholic interest, the Protestant interest, the old Irish interest, the Anglo-Irish interest, the interest of the English ascendancy, the claims of the Presbyterians as contrasted with the National Church, are constantly crossing and recrossing. At no time was this complication so great or this difficulty so insoluble as in the years which followed the breaking out of the French Revolution.

There is one thing, however, which tends to throw a certain light upon the conduct of the Government of England during these years of difficulty. Pitt and his more intimate friends had already firmly decided in their own minds that one cure only was possible for Irish evils—a close and complete legislative union with England. The action of the Whig Government in 1782 had been ostensibly in exactly the opposite direction; the triumph of Grattan and the volunteers had been won when legislative disunion was granted, and what we should now speak of as Home Rule established. The party which triumphed on that occasion was not the Irish party, or the Catholic party, but the Protestant aristocracy. The anti-national character and exclusive nature of the party in power was shown by the rejection of all Pitt's efforts at parliamentary reform. The independent Irish Parliament was indeed full of able speakers; men who carried the art of rhetoric and of clothing little thought in magnificent language to the highest pitch. But it is not unfair to take as a sample of the practical excellence of the management of what we may speak of as the Home Rulers, the condition of the Foundling Hospital in Dublin. It was a noble institution; about £16,000 a year was spent on it; 120 noblemen and wealthy gentry were on its committee; yet after just ten years of Irish management, a committee of inquiry reported that out of upwards of 2000 infants yearly consigned to its care, the average that survived was 130. They were sent up in scores, in open baskets, from distant parts of Ireland, and arrived crushed and half lifeless, to be tossed aside, without care or inquiry, into the kennel. Twenty-one committee-men formed a quorum, yet never once, except when places were to be given away, had that quorum met, and for years the treasurer, to whom the management had been confided, had been absolutely bedridden. All that can be alleged in excuse for the bad management, of which this is a sample, is that the Constitution of 1782 had not been thoroughly tried. Deprived by law of its power in the Irish Parliament, yet conscious of the impossibility of allowing the country to act as if completely independent, the Government had had recourse to indirect influence for establishing its power. While the franchise and the representation, all official places and all professions, except the medical profession, were exclusively confined to the Protestants, who were also the possessors of nineteen-twentieths of the soil, Government had found it possible by bribery, direct or indirect, to command a constant majority in Parliament of those who were eager to uphold the English connection and the Protestant ascendancy. But the very fact of its thus acting had placed a considerable portion of the Protestant population in opposition to Government.

Among the Protestants themselves there were formed two great parties, who may be called roughly Whigs and Tories; on the one side those placemen and pensioners who supported the English Government, and on the other those aristocratic families and connections (probably by no means purer or higher-minded than their opponents) who wished, as the Whig aristocracy had wished in England, to be masters of the Government, and to rule Ireland almost as a separate nation. Of these great connections the typical men were, of the Tories, the family of the Beresfords, led by the ability of Fitzgibbon the Chancellor, and of the Whigs, the family of the Ponsonbys, led by the genius of Grattan. Around the Opposition party there naturally collected those men who were really reformers at heart, and the Opposition was thus enabled to use cries and watchwords which were not only specious and plausible, but which really touched the great evils of the country. The first of these evils was the preposterous amount of Government influence; and the obvious way in which that influence might be reached was by a reform of Parliament, for nothing could be more abominable than the arrangement by which members were elected. It was worse even than in England; by far the larger number of seats were either private or Government property, and nominees were appointed under distinct conditions, and their votes secured by distinct and well-understood bargains; every man's price and every man's expectation were actually entered like a list of merchandise in the Government books. A second point was the fact, that not only all political power, but till the year 1793 almost all social position was denied to the Roman Catholics. On the first of these points the opponents of Government were agreed; they were perfectly willing, for the sake of injuring Government, to press constantly for a large reform bill. On the second point there was a far greater difference of opinion. Grattan, though himself a Protestant and a friend to the Protestant ascendancy, was great enough to urge constantly the relief of his Catholic fellow-countrymen; but the great majority of his friends, however much they might from time to time for political purposes uphold the Catholic claims, were in fact thoroughly opposed to anything which would injure their own Protestant ascendancy. There was thus a sort of show of union between the Protestant nationalists and the Catholics, but at heart disunion and dislike.

Meanwhile, whatever effect upon the Protestant population Home Rule may have had, it had not in the slightest degree alleviated the position of the Irish peasants. Their landlords were still Englishmen, Protestants, conquerors, and harsh landlords. The Church of England still demanded its tithes. The aristocracy and gentry had neglected their duties till, as has been well said, they forgot they had duties to perform; they were hopelessly corrupt, both morally and politically. The independence which the peasantry were taught by the inflated language used in Parliament to believe they had already acquired seemed to them a bitter deception; and their belief in the villany of the rulers who had tricked them, and in the complete slavery and hardship of their own position as Roman Catholics, was envenomed by the expressions which the Opposition allowed itself to use in its assaults on Government. They were thus ripe for rebellion. Indeed, for many years they had been filling Ireland with outrages. All sorts of combinations had been made against rent-collectors and tithe-proctors. In Munster arose the Society of the White Boys and the followers of Captain Right. Combinations were also directed against the farmers of taxes, who most shamelessly abused their position. Absenteeism was the curse of Ireland. While the middleman of the absentee landlord racked the wretched cotter for his rent, the middleman of the absentee parson racked him for his tithes. They were in the habit of taking their payments in interest-bearing bonds, and when the wretched peasant was unable to meet those bonds, he became practically the slave of the tithe farmer, who compelled him to do his farm work for him as the price of his forbearance to put the law in execution.

The executive machinery of the Government in Ireland was not strong enough to keep order. The outrages of the Catholics had frequently to be met by the voluntary efforts of their enemies, which soon degenerated into counter-outrages. Thus there arose in Munster a constant cruel war between the two religions. In the north of Ireland it was worse, for the hatred between the religions was there more pronounced. In dread of outrages similar to those of the south, the Protestants began, in the roughest and most illegal manner, to deprive the Catholics of arms, which indeed they had no right to carry; and the Catholics were driven to form themselves into lawless societies under the name of Defenders, in opposition to which there arose, about the year 1790, the organization of the Orange Lodges; and there, too, a cruel civil war began to be waged.

While Ireland was in this miserable condition, while the liberty which the wretched peasantry had been promised had entirely disappeared, while the upper classes of all parties seemed in the last degree degraded, and the ascendancy of the useless and tyrannical Church fixed for ever, the great news of the French Revolution came. Even in more sober England men's hearts were stirred within them at the promise of the emancipation of the human race; among the suffering passionate Irish, with their impulsive and sanguine dispositions, the effect was far greater. But the class who were at first chiefly influenced by it were not the Roman Catholics—although, no doubt, for them too it seemed to promise at least a share in the franchise,—but the Northern Presbyterians and Dissenters, republican from their origin, and, from the very nature of their religious creed, equally oppressed with the Catholics by a proud and dominant Church, and more keenly alive to that abominable system of government which touched the Protestant more nearly than the Catholic, because he alone had any share in it. Ulster, and especially the town of Belfast, were the great centres of the republican and Jacobin feelings, together with Dublin, where, as was natural, the more lively, ambitious, and freethinking elements of society were chiefly to be found.

There were thus to be somehow handled and managed by Government a strong, vicious, reckless, constitutional opposition, in connection with a few men honestly desiring the legislative independence of Ireland, and, as a necessary step, thorough parliamentary reform;—secondly, a great body of Catholics, of which the higher and more respectable part desired the gradual alleviation of their position, and joined with the Opposition, not from dislike to the English connection, but because the supporters of Government influence seemed inclined to refuse every demand; and of which the lower part, in wild misery and excitement, was waging a lawless war both in the north and south;—and thirdly, a very considerable body of men, dissenters of the North, and freethinkers of Dublin, who, touched by the influence of the French Revolution, desired an entire overthrow of the Government, and were willing to throw themselves into the arms of France for the destruction of the English connection.

It is plain that of these sections two were chiefly dangerous—the Roman Catholic peasant, who hated the Protestant, and the republican Protestant, who hated the Government and hated the Catholic also. While these were separate it might be possible to play off one against the other. In this the few reckless men who desired a complete change of Government saw the cause of their weakness. The most prominent of these was Wolfe Tone, a young barrister, the son of a Dublin coachmaker, who for personal reasons as he openly confessed—because certain suggestions of his had not been well received in England—was the determined enemy of everything English. Nominally a Protestant, really a freethinker, to him, and to several others like him, religious disputes appeared merely ridiculous; and the brilliant idea seized him of uniting those two sections of people which were really dangerous to England—the Northern Republican and the National Roman Catholic—and of thus forming the great Society of the United Irishmen. It was plain that great difficulties must arise in realizing such a scheme. Much as the Protestants of Ulster hated England, they undoubtedly hated Catholics more; much as the Catholics hated England, undoubtedly they hated Protestants more. Still, it might be the policy of both parties to bury for a time their great hatred, and to make common cause on that point which they had in common. Wolfe Tone and his republican friends, entirely careless of religion, formed an excellent connecting link. It was with this view that he betook himself to Belfast, to take advantage of a great celebration to be held there in honour of the anniversary of the destruction of the Bastille, and there established his Society, as he seems already to have done in part in Dublin. Its ostensible views as put forward in the programme were, that the weight of English influence was so great as to require the cordial union of the people of Ireland to maintain liberty, that the only constitutional way of opposing that influence was reform of Parliament, and that no reform was practicable which did not include Irishmen of every religious persuasion. Tone hoped, by thus setting prominently forward the advantages which each party was desirous of gaining, to win the adhesion of both.

But the Catholics themselves were not a wholly united body. Unable to find any more legitimate means of making themselves heard, they had, since 1782, intrusted their interests to a central committee at Dublin, consisting of some of the most important nobility and gentry of their party, as well as of others of a more violent stamp. The temper of the English Government was such, that fairly friendly relations subsisted between it and the Bishops and more educated part of the Catholics. Pitt was himself a friend to the Catholic claims in England. Many of the restrictions had been already removed from the Catholics in England and in Scotland, and neither Pitt nor the chief members of his Cabinet thought it impossible that the emancipation of the Irish should proceed by the same steps as in England. This feeling was rendered much stronger by the French Revolution. It seemed impossible that the dogmatic and highly organized Roman Church should become the champion of disorder and atheism, and Pitt hoped by attaching them to himself to find in them a support against the spread of the revolutionary principles which were his great dread. The Catholics thus became an object of contention to the extreme parties; on the one side the Nationalists and United Irishmen sought to win them by holding out hopes of regaining their supremacy by reform of Parliament, and of a consequent alienation from English policy which might well involve a complete change in the Act of Settlement, and the restoration of much property to its old Roman Catholic owners; and on the other side the English Government attempted to outbid its rivals, and to attach the Catholics more closely to the English interests, by granting them immediately a large measure of relief. As was natural, this auction terminated in a split among the Catholics themselves. In 1791 a portion of the Committee sent up very reasonable demands in a petition, signed by upwards of sixty names. These petitioners represented the moderate and better part of the Catholics, who would have been willing to accept the legitimate offers of the English Government; but the majority, inspired by the revolutionary feelings of the time, and eagerly desirous for the complete restoration of their position, refused to acknowledge the petition as their own, and drove the sixty signatories from the Committee. They then proceeded to play directly into the hands of Wolfe Tone, entering into close connection with the revolutionary society at Belfast, which they no doubt intended to use as a cat's-paw only, until they should attain that complete Catholic ascendancy, which could scarcely fail to result from a thorough Reform Bill if connected with the removal of religious disabilities.

It may excite surprise that the Government did not, in the presence of the very obvious danger which had arisen, and when the country was full of disturbance, act vigorously in support of the Protestant ascendancy, or at least confine itself to giving such measures of relief as would have satisfied the seceders of the Catholic committee. The Lord Lieutenant, and those who had charge of the government in Ireland, perpetually urged upon the English Cabinet the necessity of supporting the English, declaring that the real contest would ultimately be between the Irish nationalists and the English settlers. But Pitt could not give up his idea that relief to the Catholics was necessary. He suffered Richard Burke, a foolish young man, to act apparently in his name, and to hold out hopes to the more advanced Catholic party. The Cabinet, indeed, subsequently denied having given him any authority, but as undoubtedly Pitt had given him a letter of introduction to the Secretary, it was very hard to prove this disclaimer. Consequently, in the session of 1792, both the Belfast republicans and the Catholic committee sent up petitions to Parliament of a very strong description. They were both rejected, and in their place a measure was introduced by Sir Hercules Langrishe, apparently with the consent of Government, admitting Catholics to the profession of the law, removing restrictions on their education, and repealing the Inter-marriage Act. It was only with considerable difficulty, and by Government influence, that this Bill was passed through the House, for the Protestant feeling in Parliament was very strong. Langrishe's measure was no doubt a righteous one; but it is a question whether at the moment concession to the Catholics was wise, especially when it was purchased by unpopularity among the Protestants. It seems probable, however, that both now and in his subsequent action, Pitt was influenced by a detestation of the iniquitous means by which Ireland was governed. He did not care much about shocking his majority of pensioners, or weakening English ascendancy, being fully determined that before long that ascendancy should give place to a wider and less provincial scheme of Government, produced by a complete union.

The effect of the measure at first was, however, certainly not salutary. Signs of concession on the part of the Government, and the foolish conduct of Richard Burke, excited the Catholics of the United Irish party to raise still higher claims, and to attempt to insist upon them by overawing the Government. Determined that there should be no mistake as to the real wishes of their party, the committee contrived to summon a general convention of Catholics in Dublin, each parish sending up its representatives. This Parliament met in what was called the Back Lane, under the presidency of Edward Burne, a well-known Catholic merchant of extreme views. The members drew up a petition, demanding the franchise for the Catholics, and sent it direct to England, attempting thus to overrule their own Irish Government. At the same time, Tone and Napper Tandy, the leader of the Dublin malcontents, attempted to arm their threatening counter-parliament with military power, by raising, in imitation of the old volunteers, a body whom they called the National Guards. The vigour of Fitzgibbon nipped this plan in the bud. He issued a proclamation against the assembling of men in arms, and as though to prove how much a little vigour would effect, and how easily the movement might at that time have been suppressed, the muster which should have taken place the following day was attended by three men only, of whom Napper Tandy was one. But the petition of the Convention had been well received in England; the Government there persisted in overriding the wishes of the Lord Lieutenant, and with every appearance of having yielded to pressure, in 1793, Major Hobart, the Chief Secretary, in accordance with instructions from Catholic Relief Bill passed. 1793. London, introduced, and by Government influence forced down the throat of an unwilling House of Commons, a second Catholic Relief Bill, admitting Catholics to the grand juries, magistracy, and, finally, to the franchise, at the same time repealing the Act which prohibited the bearing of arms. The Government had now gone as far as it intended to go. It had apparently made its concessions with a bad grace, and to the wrong people. As Lawrence Parsons, a singularly sensible member of the Irish Parliament, pointed out, the Bill gave the franchise, but still refused to the Catholics the right of sitting in Parliament. As the franchise was very low, it virtually threw the power into the hands of the lower Catholics, while excluding the Catholic gentry from their legitimate influence. It was, however, in vain that he urged the admission of the Catholics to Parliament, and the raising of the franchise. The United Irishmen were able to say, that as long as they could vote for Protestants alone the franchise was of little use; and further, that even had they been able to elect Catholics, the Government influence was too strong to make the change of any avail.

It was then nominally with the cry of reform of Parliament that they continued their agitation. And as the late concessions had been apparently granted under a system of threats, the same system of intimidation was pursued. Riots and outrages again broke out in all parts of Ireland. The Defenders again became active. House after house of the Protestants was robbed. Murders of all sorts were committed. In this year alone there were 180 houses attacked in Munster; while the success of the Convention had been such that the experiment was to be repeated at Athlone. Fitzgibbon indeed postponed the immediate danger by securing the passage of the Convention Bill, which forbade the assembling of such illegal meetings; and in other respects the hands of the executive were for the time so much strengthened, that although much outrage continued, and discontent was smouldering throughout the country, and the emissaries of the United Irishmen scarcely veiled their revolutionary intentions, their hopes sunk low, and Tone was himself thinking of joining the Government side. He even had an interview with the Chief Secretary, and there was some thought of giving him employment abroad. But just about this time, in 1794, the United Irishmen, losing hope of carrying out their revolution singlehanded, began to think of summoning the assistance of France. It was in this year that one Jackson went as an emissary to France with undoubtedly traitorous designs. One of his comrades, as so often happens in Irish treasons, turned informer; Jackson was apprehended, and took poison, and died in the dock as the sentence was being pronounced on him.

Suddenly the hopes of the Irish party received an unexpected impulse. In the year 1794 the Duke of Portland and the Whigs joined the Cabinet. Their point of union was the war only, in other respects they clung to their old traditions. Portland, their chief, had been Prime Minister when the Act for legislative equality had been passed; and when, under pressure from this section of his party, Pitt consented to send Lord Fitzwilliam, the heir of Lord Rockingham, to Ireland as Viceroy, there seemed a great probability that a complete change of policy was intended. Such indeed was the view of Grattan, who had had a personal interview with Pitt, and such no doubt was Fitzwilliam's own view. Such in part was Pitt's view also, but he was half-hearted in the matter. He was displeased at having to yield anything to the new members of his Cabinet, and though desiring that the Catholic claims should be granted, he was so pledged to repression that he scarcely thought the present a desirable time for that measure; while his fidelity to personal friends, and his strong view of personal claims, made him determined that none of the existing officers or placemen should be removed. Besides this, the only statesman of great ability among the Irish, and the only one who possessed Pitt's ear, was Fitzgibbon the Chancellor, a bigoted upholder of Protestant ascendancy. It was then with very different views that Fitzwilliam and Pitt regarded the new appointment. How great this difference was seems to be absolutely proved by a reference to Grenville's letters. In fact, the way in which Pitt yielded can only be explained by his intending ultimately to produce the Union. Fitzwilliam's arrival was hailed with enthusiasm by the Irish, and acting upon his own view of his commission, which he believed that Pitt shared, he proceeded rapidly to introduce reforms. Fitzgibbon, it was clearly understood, he was not to touch; but the Attorney and the Solicitor-General, Wolfe and Toler, he removed, and replaced them by the far better known lawyers, Ponsonby and Curran. A great outcry was raised at this, but it was slight when compared with the opposition evoked when the Viceroy proceeded to lay his hands on Mr. Beresford, Commissioner of the Revenue. He was the head of one of those great families who obtained their influence by managing the country for the Government interest, without any claim on the score of talent. So great was his influence that a quarter of the places in Ireland were said to be his gift, though he himself occupied only the unimportant situation of Commissioner of the Revenue. Every underling and jobber in the country felt his position endangered, but it wanted more influence than theirs to remove Fitzwilliam. His discomfiture was completed by his own rash rapidity of action. A Bill was planned with the co-operation of Grattan for the immediate granting of the Catholic claims. Fitzgibbon at once took advantage of this, and well acquainted with the obstinacy and over-scrupulousness of the King's character, found means to have it suggested to him that to admit Roman Catholics to Parliament was a breach of his Coronation Oath. The suggestion fell on willing ears; from that time onward it became a fixed idea in the royal mind, from which no effort could remove it.

This piece of Irish history has been, and will ever be, the subject of the fiercest controversy. It is only by remembering that on one side the accumulated wrath of a half-savage and badly governed country was making itself terribly visible for an object which cannot be condemned, yet by means which were utterly odious; and that on the other side the instinct of self-defence, the stern necessity of upholding their rule at all hazards, fear of the ever-threatening horrors of a triumphant and savage foe, and revenge for the personal miseries already inflicted upon them, were driving men to cruel though perhaps necessary actions, that this period can be read in at all a judicial and unpartisan spirit.

With regard to the savage cruelty of the Irish, it can only be said, as affording some excuse for their conduct, that they had suffered much, that they had much to complain of. With regard to the real danger and lengthened organization of the conspiracy there is abundant proof, and was then abundant proof in the hands of the Irish Government, for as usual all the secret committees were full of traitors. With regard to the conduct of the Government—which, whatever may be said of it, did not drive the people to rebellion, for they had long settled upon that—it may be fairly asked what other means than severity could possibly have been used. Lord Camden deserves the greatest credit for his moderation, and for the care with which, through two years and upwards, he avoided bringing on an open outbreak. The only real question appears to be whether severity used much earlier might not have altogether frustrated the rebellion. The reason why this severity was not used is to be found in the conduct of the Whigs in England, and in the views of Pitt and the Liberal part of his Government, who sat apart from the scene and could not be brought completely to comprehend the danger.

To the Irish Government the state of the country was well known. It was known that Wolfe Tone had gone abroad, nominally to America, but with the intention of visiting France, with the full approbation of the United Committee at Belfast. It was known that in 1795 the plans of an insurrection had been almost perfected, and that to meet that insurrection there were in Ireland scarcely any English troops, about 10,000 invalids and fencibles, and a militia half of whom were among the conspirators. It was also known that assassinations and the swearing-in of conspirators were of constant occurrence. It is not surprising that in the year 1796 it was found necessary to pass an Indemnity Act to cover acts for the preservation of peace which broke the letter of the law done by the army and magistrates, or that a Bill should have been passed against assassination, or that an Insurrection Act, which allowed suspected districts to be declared beyond the law, and to be placed in military occupation and deprived of arms, should have been carried. The danger became still more threatening when it was known that Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the brother of Lord Leitrim, and Arthur O'Connor, the friend of all the Whigs in England, had gone abroad, had seen General Hoche in Switzerland, and arranged with him for a French invasion. At this time a trustworthy informant told the Government that there were 200,000 men ready officered, that there were pikes and muskets for 150,000, and that the militia were almost to a man members of the United Irish Society. It was then that it became absolutely necessary for security to raise a trustworthy force. This force, principally consisting of Protestants, who volunteered immediately to the number of 37,000, was the yeomanry. It did not, however, consist entirely of Protestants; and Camden, in spite of the pressure laid upon him by Parliament and by all who surrounded him, refused to recognize the Orange Lodges, which would at once have given him the power he wanted. As it was, the establishment of the yeomanry certainly saved Ireland, and yet it is here probably that the great error of the Government showed itself. English soldiers, if possible, alone should have been used. The traditional hatred between the religions was too fierce to allow the subjugation of the Catholics to be left in the hands of the Protestant yeomen.

The invasion which Hoche had planned, in accordance with the wishes of Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Wolfe Tone, was a very formidable one; nor, had it succeeded in landing, could it probably have been otherwise than successful. Fortunately the energy of the Government had just then struck a most damaging blow at the Arrest of the revolutionary committee. insurrectionary movement. Among the other illegal actions of the army of the North, which had been under the command of Luttrell, Lord Carhampton, had been the sudden apprehension of the whole revolutionary committee in Belfast. Neilson, Ore, Russell, and the two Sims, had been lodged in Dublin Castle. It was to allow of such arrests as these that almost at the same time the Habeas Corpus was suspended; for the Government was in the awkward position of knowing the treasonable practices which were going on, and of knowing the authors of them, but of yet being unable to produce proofs, as the information had been received under the seal of secrecy. The importance of this apprehension was much increased by the very complete organization of the United Society. A series of little societies, none of which exceeded eighteen, were linked together, and formed a complete hierarchy through baronial committees, district committees, provincial directories, up to a grand executive directory of five, elected secretly, and known to none but the provincial secretaries, who examined the votes. The military organization was almost as complete. The sudden destruction of the executive committee, whom nobody knew, in fact cut the head of the organization entirely away; till what had happened had been discovered, and a fresh committee elected, there was no power to issue any orders. It is probably to this that is to be traced, not only the apathy, but the apparent goodwill of the people of the South at the time of the French invasion.

The period during which the French expedition, thirty-eight ships of all sorts, was lying in Bantry Bay was one of extreme danger. The strange inactivity of the English navy would have allowed the French to complete their plans at perfect leisure. Fortunately Hoche himself had been separated from the expedition on its passage, and Grouchy, the second in command, shrank from the responsibility of leading without his superior's commands. A hurricane swept the bay, preventing landing, and the ships returned uselessly to Brest. But the apathy of the people was of very short duration. The evident possibility of assistance from France raised their temper. The disturbances General Lake's success in Ulster. in the North were speedily renewed; murder followed murder; Orange retributions followed in their turn, and at last, in March 1797, General Lake was ordered to disarm the conspirators of Ulster. He issued a proclamation ordering all persons to bring in their arms and surrender them, threatening to use force if they were refused. Well informed by his spies, Lake captured 50,000 muskets, 72 cannon, and 70,000 pikes, often, it must be confessed, with cruel severity on the part of the yeomanry, who were his agents. Frequently, but it is believed only when certain information had already been obtained of the existence of arms, flogging and picketing (that is, putting their feet upon sharp stakes) wrung from the wretched peasants the knowledge of their place of concealment. Such conduct, though cruel, had it been exercised throughout Ireland would probably have prevented the worst of the insurrection.

But the Government was hampered in Ireland by a very small, but very eloquent and noisy, opposition in Parliament, and in England by the whole of the Whig opposition in and out of Parliament, constantly crying out against any severity, or any use of other than the civil power; and by the Cabinet itself, which continued half-hearted, disliked severity, looking forward ultimately to a complete change of system, and desired, even by great concessions, to put off an outbreak till that change could be effected. But it was in fact impossible. The very existence of these champions for their cause, the secession from Parliament of Grattan and his friends, who declared that their voices were now useless, the supposition that the English Cabinet would not tolerate any extreme measures, the certainty that France was still thinking of assisting them, the opportunity for that assistance afforded by the mutiny at the Nore, in which traces of Irish influence are not wanting, drove the leaders to more and more extreme steps. Still more was their confidence raised by the ill-judged conduct of Sir Ralph Abercromby, who was appointed to succeed Carhampton as commander-in-chief. He was the friend of Lord Moira. An ardent Whig, and full of English Liberal views, and used to regular English soldiery, he was disgusted both at the stringent measures and disorderly conduct of the yeomanry he was called upon to command, and shocked its feelings by declaring that their state of disorganization was such as to make them a terror to none but themselves. He even declined to carry on in the South that work which Lake had done in the North, and to disarm Munster. Again General Lake was called to undertake the unpleasant duty. It was no doubt carried out there, in the midst of an almost purely Roman Catholic population, with even more severity, more religious intolerance, and more cruelty, than in the North. It must be observed, however, that at the worst these cruelties could have lasted but a month, for after Lake had held his command about that time the insurrection broke out. When it did break out the Government was partially prepared for it, for treachery at last put the whole secret of the conspiracy into their hands. A certain Mr. Reynolds, a man of small property, had joined the United Irishmen, but frightened at the extent of their schemes, gave information that the Leinster delegates would meet in March at the house of Oliver Bond, one of their chief associates. The whole committee was there seized, together with letters and papers of the utmost importance. Many arrests of leaders followed, but Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the chief military leader of the conspiracy, contrived to escape.

The 23rd of May had been appointed for a general rising. Two days before that date Fitzgerald was arrested, after a desperate resistance. With a dagger he killed one of his assailants, Captain Ryan, and severely wounded Captain Swan; nor was he secured till Major Sirr, the town mayor, shot him through the shoulder. He lingered a few days and then died. Two other leaders, of the name of Sheares, were also arrested, and papers of a most bloodthirsty nature found about them. In spite of the loss of their leaders, the insurrection broke out on the appointed day. It was to have opened with the capture of Dublin. This attempt completely failed; but on all the roads round the city the mail coaches were destroyed, so as to isolate the capital; and at Naas, Kilcullen, Rathfarnham, and Prosperous, and in other places in the county of Kildare, the military were attacked. At Prosperous the barracks were burnt, and nearly all the soldiers killed. In most other directions a brief moment of success, marked by actions of wild savagery, was all that was accomplished. From Kildare the insurrection turned upon Carlow. But there timely arrangements were made, and 600 of the rebels perished, while not a single soldier was hurt. The success of the soldiery was marked by even worse cruelty than that of the rebels; twenty-eight suspected yeomen were shot in cold blood in the neighbourhood of Dunlaven; and after the defeat at Carlow, Gordon says: "Executions commenced, as elsewhere in this calamitous period, and about 200 in a short time were hanged or shot according to martial law; among the rest Sir Edward Crosby, a loyal gentleman, who unfortunately professed Liberal opinions." But it was where least expected that the rebellion was most formidable. In Kildare the rebels never gained much head; but in Wexford, which was regarded as free from disaffection, a regular war arose. The rebels here mastered the town of Wexford, where they found a gentleman of property, Mr. Bagenal Harvey, to whom they gave the command. But their real leader was a priest named Murphy. They succeeded in overrunning the country, but were at last checked by General Johnson before the town of New Ross. He pursued them to Enniscorthy, and on the 21st of June General Lake succeeded in utterly routing the rebels, and taking their camp on Vinegar Hill. This was practically a deathblow to the rebellion, though many of its horrors continued in isolated districts.