political and literary circles of London. In men like Burke and Sheridan, Ireland has paid back to England her old hereditary debt, for the many illustrious scions which have been planted and thriven in her soil. We shall be called on to exert much nice discretion in touching on the great field of European politics, in which Irish statesmen and warriors have borne not merely a forward, but a foremost part. Men whose minds have given a stamp to the age, have sprung from Irish blood, and in despite of her isolation, have secured to their country her place among the nations of modern Europe. Among the most prominent consequences which this circumstance must have upon the method which we have hitherto adopted, there is one of which it may be expedient that the reader should be apprised. Instead of pursuing the strictly chronological order, which has hitherto been our main principle of arrangement, it will be in some measure necessary to group our persons according to the place and general character of their lives. By this means we shall evidently avoid the necessity of prolix repetitions of the same series of historical incidents. The period of British and Irish history which especially requires this precaution, is one singularly distinguished by the magnitude and rapid accumulation of the events which both the divisions thus suggested would comprise. The marked events of Irish history in the latter end of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth centuries, called forth a rich and brilliant display of character and talent. The history of England is, in a different way, no less distinguished for characters and events of the very first magnitude. According to that arrangement, we shall be enabled to follow out a distinct outline of the history of this country, under the lives of Charlemont, Flood, Grattan, and a few more names less fortunately connected with their country's records; while the memoirs of Burke and Castlereagh are successively connected with the most momentous events which are contained in the records of modern history -perhaps, indeed, (for the importance of these events is not yet fully ascertained,) in the records of time.

The period one of transition.—To trace with tolerable precision the vast changes of which the development begins to become perceptible, from the commencement of the period now to occupy our attention, would require a volume to itself. We shall avail ourselves of the many occasions which must present to illustrate a subject of such deep and pregnant interest: but it is here our chief purpose to offer a more general and elementary sketch than the object of the succeeding narratives will permit, of those great political processes which will be more or less involved in the entire tone of the subsequent memoirs, and which will, at some future period, be generally understood to constitute the characteristic interest of the history of the present century. The period from which we are next to borrow our character and colouring, is pre-eminently a period of transition. This is the principle by which all the future details of these volumes will be governed, and which, whether much or little expressed, will be a prime element involved throughout. The reader cannot have it too distinctly in view. For this reason it must, in this preliminary statement, be our chief object to offer some needful expositions, which might here.

after be felt to embarrass the narrative, or break the interest of those details in which they may be most required.

The most cursory reader of newspapers, if he has even a superficial acquaintance with the state of his own times, is aware, generally, of the magnitude of the events-the rapidity of the practical discoveries in science, and improvements in art-the changes in manners-the increase of wealth-the diffusion of knowledge-and the democratic tendency which has shown itself in political opinions and events. These broad features are such as to have escaped not even the intelligent peasant's attention. And it may be also as distinctly recognised, that the progress of these changes has been in the main marked by a very obvious acceleration, which, though subject to apparent occasional retardations, has yet considerable marks of uniformity, when amidst the complication of the moving scene, the eye begins to detect and trace the currents and forces of human tendency.

Of this, the elementary principle is one of extreme simplicity, and by no means such as to demand any ingenuity to detect. We cannot here, for obvious reasons, go far into elementary investigation, and must be satisfied with that degree of expansion which may be sufficient to lead intelligibly to our intended applications. It would, assuredly, much advantage every portion of our future task, could we, within the requisite bounds, convey clear and well-defined notions upon those moral, intellectual, and physical wants and powers, by means of which the first rude elements of civilization, when once committed to their agency, are nurtured and developed; the law by which this development gains progress; the means by which it is variously modified, interrupted, and transferred; the laws of its retardations and accelerations, and those by which it is preserved. Such is the rough outline of the theory, to some broken portions of which we must now for a moment beg the thoughtful attention of the reader. From the very beginning of time, a gradual accumulation of the elements of civilization can be vaguely traced, with still increasing distinctness. It has, however, been always subject to the action of external forces, so violent as not only to retard its progress, but to alter its place and direction: this is the main lesson of ancient history. Civilization appears to have advanced by long stages—to have received apparent checks-to have changed its climate, and reappeared wearing some new features, and with some new elements of progress. Looked upon without regard to partial or local interruptions, it will appear to have travelled from climate to climate, gathering from each some varied element; and from age to age, uniformly accumulating breadth and depth. In the descent of ages, and amid the revolutions of dynasties and empires, the knowledge and experience of each great period of time has been transmitted, to be augmented and improved in the following. Two general causes have given to the progress thus described its character of acceleration: first, and chiefly, the increase which every part of progress is likely to derive from the increase of all the rest. This, as a general principle, demands no great reflection to perceive, though in detail it would be too difficult and complex to be followed, unless in a book devoted to the subject: it is the vast science of which political economy

is but a chapter. The second is more evident still: with the advance of knowledge and all the arts of life, the proportion of the more wealthy and informed classes has a tendency to increase; and, with this increase, many causes of progress become increased or developed. Thus, as the aristocratic principle in early stages has gradually gained ground upon the despotic,—the democratic, in its turn, has gained upon both. But let us for a moment pause; we are upon perilous ground. There never, perhaps, was a period in which it is more imperatively a duty to be guarded in the statement of such general principles, than at the present, when the maxims of political science have acquired a certain degree of popular currency. In a free statement of the principle of human progress, it is not to be concealed that we necessarily state also the elementary principle of democracy, the principle of which has been glaringly mis-stated by a large class of popular writers and orators. The democrat and the revolutionary journalist have placed it on grounds not only false, but pernicious; such, indeed, as to give it a dangerous tendency, which it does not otherwise possess. The "rights of man," the "will of the people," and all such other phrases, as they have been commonly applied, involve the utter denial of all rights, and the dissolution of society; they who use such language, either mean something else which it does not express, or use the words merely as the trumpet-notes of sedition.

The

The principle is strictly this, that the effect of social progress is a growing tendency to equalization. This is, however, a merely theoretic result, to which, according to strict science, there would be a perpetual approach, as to an infinitely distant point-the perfection of the social state-of this the moral impossibility can easily be proved. social system is radically founded on two distinct first principles; first, on positive institution, in the consideration of which we are here unconcerned; and secondly, on the natural inequalities of mankind-inequality of physical strength-of intellectual powers-of moral temper-so that, if the crowd were supposed to start fairly from the most perfect level, very few years could pass without a despotism or aristocracy, and a system of coercive institutions, adapted more or less to the rude first stages of national existence. The result of all human progress is, as we have stated, a modified equalization, and a remote approach towards a state which cannot have existence without a radical alteration in human nature. Such a vision, indeed, appertains to those visionaries who have raved about the perfectibility of man, and urged the dissolution of society. And we must here, by the way, observe, that if a certain class of some English historians and biographers who have recently been eloquent in praising the philosophy of Jacobinism -spoken of the "enlightened science" of the national convention, and called the radical demolition of the social state in France "a great progress of regeneration,”—had any precise notion of the science thus rashly named, they would have at once perceived the utter absurdity of the clever and eloquent visionaries, whose frantic ravings so widely misled the intellect of nations, in despite of those practical results which contradicted them so soon and so entirely.

The real progressive equalization of which it here concerns us to speak clearly and distinctly, is no enforced or revolutionary demolition

of orders and privileges. It is the visibly spontaneous result of those ameliorations arising from commerce and knowledge, as they become diffused; by means of which the inferior ranks grow richer and wiser, and in virtue of which, the increase of wealth and the expansion of national mind have continued to broaden from and the proto age, age ductive and inventive powers of the entire mass to increase. Hence the acceleration to which we adverted, and which we consider to be the peculiar characteristic of modern times.

There is, however, another essential principle in which these considerations are largely involved. So far as we have gone, the revolutionary character of the period before us remains untouched; we have undertaken to view it as a period of transition. At first sight it might

seem to be the inference from all that we have stated that those abrupt stages in the progress of nations, which are termed revolutions, are uncontemplated in the general law of progress. The contrary is, however, the truth; and hence the real necessity for the wide compass of our remarks. There is an antagonistic principle essential to the existence of society. If rightly considered, those great constitutional structures of law and civil government, which are essential to civilized society, are not, and never have been, (we think never can be,) of the same elastic and progressive character as those causes which we have previously pointed out. They may be more or less elastic in their texture; but, simply considered, are the principle of stability, opposed to, and governing the principles of change. The one partakes of the spontaneous characters of nature; the other of art. One is independent of human design, and advances unobserved; the other, though overruled by many causes, is originated in the wisdom or folly of statesmen and councils. But the law of civil institutions is here to be noted for its stationary character. It stands still, and sets bounds to the growing structure of society. The uncalculated expansion of moral and intellectual forces and

*This elementary truth is of some importance to those who would wish to investigate the foundations and primary laws of civil society. We do not recollect to have seen it explained as we think its importance deserves. The forces which preserve a system of polity, and those which advance national progress, are, in some respects, antagonistic forces. The latter we have fully stated above; the other consists in a combination of powers. There are some of them, as, for instance, opinion, common to both; others, as laws, institutions, and the administrative and deliberative powers which reside in councils, senates, and individuals, when taken together, and viewed in strict reference to the principle here stated, constitute the conservative, and, at the same time, the retarding power. The mutual opposition of these principles is an inherent necessity in the state of man, and not as the demagogue would imply, an evil to be removed by violence. It holds a line which, however shifted, must continue somewhere to be found, till man becomes both all-wise and all-just. The principle here stated, though it carries with it some appearance of refining, yet when clearly announced, is almost, if not entirely, axiomatic. If the reader should desire to look very closely into the elementary constitution of this antagonism, it depends on several causes; first, the fact that political foresight can see but doubtfully, and but a little way-the wisest man can no more regulate the remote progress of events, than he can add a cubit to his stature; and as it often happens that ultimate progress is to be attained by immediate and general evils, the little that human wisdom can see must operate rather to the discouragement, than the promotion of changes. Secondly, the mere fact that the advances of human progress are spontaneous, indefinite, and not, for the most part, such as to indicate any very obvious course of legislative

requisitions-the wide increase of wants and refinements—the altered form and symmetry of the frame of things-goes on for ages, accumulating strength and pressure, until, at last, some moment must of necessity arrive, when there is a balance of the two great antagonistic forces; and at such a point, for reasons obvious enough, they may long continue in equilibrium, which would be fearful, but that, like some fatal affections of the heart, it offers no perceptible symptoms, till some seemingly slight incident gives the fatal impulse, which is no more to be checked than the avalanche when it has left its point of suspension. Some imagined accident, itself in reality a result of the disease, gives the fatal signal, and the ancient shell begins to sever into flaws, or bursts asunder with portentous ruin, and frees the pent elements of human progress, with the ruin, perhaps, of a generation of mankindfor we should not pass on without observing, that of revolution the immediate event is uncertain; it has always fearful oscillations, and though beneficial when viewed with reference to ages and the advance of mankind, to the place of its origin, it is at best a cure through the means of disease-the operation may bring life or death. But to return.

These are but general facts, our special duty will be to point their application to the period before us. The best illustrations of this will arise in the memoirs of eminent individuals, whose names are inseparable from the political, literary, and social history of their times. few very cursory outlines must be enough in this place.

A

Outline of events.-As the application of these general principles is the main object of this illustration, we shall be here content to notice the great characteristic events of this period no further than this purpose may require. More detailed notices of the same events must form a principal portion of our subsequent labours. To appreciate distinctly either the great constitutional changes, or the moral, social, and intellectual advances, on which we design to dwell more fully, it may be useful to many of our readers to have in mind some such general sketch of the great causal events as we shall now very briefly offer. In looking back to trace the beginnings of that great revolution, of which the whole history of modern times is but an account, it is vain to inquire for the first event; the most penetrating sagacity

expediency, while the repeal or enactment of a law is necessarily encumbered with forms, discussions, oppositions, and all the accumulation of prepossession and ignorance, which must retard the decisions of every deliberative body. Lastly, there is, both in individuals, as well as in corporate institutions, an inseparable tenacity of power. Without this, it is evident that no power could exist. It is the essential vitality of a system. That life, which, though it may be but a step to a better state, cannot be yielded without a struggle, because the transition is through the gates of death. Man, we know, is destined to rise again from the empire of the grave; but when a nation is sick to death, there is no consolatory assurance but in the physician, who can retard the menaced disruption of the vital powers, and by firm resistance govern and guide to sane issues those spontaneous efforts, which, when they set in, cannot be repressed, and may not with certainty be overruled. The powers which advance the world, without the counteraction of these powers which retard, are the same which would terminate in the destruction of States. It is not by its wisdom, but by its wants, that public will operates for good; it is a blind force, but it is one of the forces of nature. After all, the resisting power is but another. Both are essential; the extremes to which both are ever tending are the evils to be feared.