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breath animated his countrymen "vho were passing the river. As he lay bleeding in the arms of four soldiers, he collected strength to exclaim repeatedly in his own language, “ A la gloire, mes enfans! a la gloire !" “ To glory; my boys! to glory!” The rapidity of the Irish horse, the flight of the Danes, and the disorder of the French, spread a general alarm, and the want of cavalry struck the minds even of the peasants, who were but spectators of the battle, so forcibly, that a general cry of“ Horse ! horse !” was suddenly raised, was mistaken for an order to “ halt,” surprised and confounded the centre, was conveyed to the right wing, and for a while retarded their pursuit. In this moment of disorder, Duke Schomberg, who had waited to support his friends on any dangerous emergency, rushed through the river, and placing himself at the head of the Huguenot forces, who were now deprived of their leader, pointed to some French regiments in their front, and cried, “ Allons, messieurs, voila vos persecuteurs.” “ Come on, gentlemen, there are your persecutors." These were his last words. The Irish horse who had broken the French protestants, wheeled through Old-bridge, in order to join their main body, but were cut down by the Dutch and Eniskilleners. About sixteen of their squadron escaped, and returning furiously from the slaughter of their companions, were mistaken by the Huguenots for some of their own friends, and suffered to pass. They wounded Schomberg in the head, and were hurrying him forward, when his own men fired and slew him. About the same time, Walker of London-Derry, whose passion for military glory had hurried him unnecessarily into this engagement, received a wound in his belly, and instantly expired.
After an uninterrupted firing of an hour, the disorder on both sides occasioned some respite. The centre of the English army began to recover from their confusion. The Irish retreated towards Donore, where James stood during the engagement, surrounded by his guards, and here, drawing up in good order, once more advanced. William had now crossed the river at the head of Dutch, Danish, and English cavalry, through a dangerous and difficult pass, where his horse floundering in the mud, obliged him to dismount, and accept the assistance of his attendants. And now, when the enemy had advanced almost within musquet-shot of his infantry, he was seen with his sword drawn, animating his squadrons, and preparing to fall on their flank. They halted, and again retreated to Donore. But herè, facing about vigorously, they charged with such success, that the English cavalry, though led on by their king, was forced from their ground. William, with a collection of thought which accompanies true courage, rode up to the Enniskilleners, and asked, “ What they would do for him ?" Their officer informed them who he was; they advanced with him, and received the enemy's fire. But, as he wheeled to the left, they followed by mistake; yet, while William led up some Dutch troops, they perceived their error, and returned bravely to the charge. The battle was now maintained on each side with equal ardour, and with variety of fortune. The king, who mingled in the hottest part of the engagement, was constantly exposed to danger.
One of his own troopers, mistaking him for an enemy, presented a pistol to his head; William calmly put it by, “What," said he, “do not you know your friends !” The presence of such a prince gave double vigour to his soldiers. The Irish infantry were finally repulsed. Hamilton made one desperate effort to turn the fortune of the day, at the head of his horse. Their shock was furious, but neither orderly nor steady. They were routed, and their general conveyed a prisoner to William. The king asked him whether the Irish would fight more. “Upon my honour,” said Hamilton, “ I « believe they will ; for they have yet a good body of horse." William surveyed the man who had betrayed him in his transactions with Tyrconnel, and in a sullen and contemptuous tone exclaimed, “ Honour! your honour!”
Nor was this asseveration of Hamilton well grounded. The right wing of William's army had, by this time, forced their way through difficult grounds, and pursued the enemy close to Duleek. Lauzun rode up to James, who still continued at Donore, advising him to retreat immediately, as he was in danger of being surrounded. He marched to Duleek at the head of Sarsefield's regiment; his army followed, and poured through the pass, not without some annoyance from a party of English dragoons, which they might easily have cut to pieces, had they not been solely intent on flying. When they reached the open ground, they drew up, and cannonaded their pur
Their officers ordered all things for a retreat, which they made in such order as was commended by their enemies. Their löss in this engagement was computed at fifteen hundred; that of William's army scarcely amounted to one third of this number.
Here was a final period of James's Irish royalty. He arrived at Dublin in great disorder, and damped the joy of his friends, who, at the intelligence of William's death, every moment expected to receive him in triumph. He assembled the popish magistrates and council of the city; he told them, that in England his army had deserted him; in Ireland they had fled in the hour of danger, nor could be persuaded to rally, though their loss was inconsiderable; both he and they must therefore shift for themselves. It had been deliberated whether, in case of such a misfortune, Dublin should not be set on fire; but on their allegiance he charged them to commit no such barbarous outrage, which must reflect dishonour on him, and irritate the conqueror. He was obliged, he said, to yield to force, but would never cease to labour for their deliverance ; too much blood had been already shed, and Providence seemed to declare against him; he, therefore, advised them to set their prisoners at liberty, and submit to the Prince of Orange, who was merciful.
The reflection on the courage of his Irish troops was ungracious, and provoked their officers to retort it on the king. They contended, that in the whole of the engagement, their men, though not animated by a princely leader, had taken no inglorious part. They observed, that while William shared the danger of his army, encouraging them by his presence, by his voice, by his example, James
stood, at secure distance, a quiet spectator of the contest for his crown and dignity. “ Exchange kings," said they, and we will once more fight the battle.” Their indignation was increased when they saw the prince who inveighed against Irish cowardice fly precipitately to Waterford, breaking down the bridges to prevent a pursuit, and instantly embark for France,
Tua sim, tua dicar oportet:
N the reign of Charles II. when licentiousness was at its height in
Britain, a private yeoman of the guards refused the mistress of a prince. The lady, who was dissatisfied with her noble lover, had fixed her eyes upon this man, and thought she had no more to do than speak her pleasure. He got out of her way; he refused to understand her; and when she pressed him farther, he answered, I am married.
The story reached the king, with all its circumstances; but they who expected an extravagant laugh upon the occasion were disappointed. He sent for the person; he found him a gentleman, though reduced to that mean station; and, “ Odds fish, man,” says he,
though I am not honest enough to be virtuous myself, I value those " that are.” He gave him an appointment, and respected him for life.
We say this is an age of less debauchery; I wish it would afford an instance of modesty so well rewarded. The reader smiles at a man's modesty; the word did not escape me; it was a trap to catch that guilty smile which, if I had the art and eloquence to write what I feel truly, I would convert into a blush, before its dimple smoothed upon the cheek. Why is not modesty as laudable in our sex as the other? It is a virtue surely; and the more to be valued because it is un
Wherefore should the faith of marriage be ridiculous ? We
gave it as our choice, and we established it by all that is most sacred in the church. He who violates that oath has neither constancy of mind nor honour; and the fop that ridicules it, mocks religion.
I am afraid we are more abandoned than the age which we call most licentious, and add one crime, hypocrisy. Who regards now the dignity of virtue, or the authority of heaven? Who has a sense for the delicacy of marriage, or who tastes the true delights of it? There are a few, or it would have been vain to name the opposite
folly ; for admonition would have had small power, unless with some examples. These will be displeased, perhaps, to be called forth into the world's eye, for virtue is naturally reserved in a world of vice; but they must pardon me the slight confusion, and suffer a momentary blush without offence, since it is for the good of thousands.
I am afraid debauchery accompanies those arts which they say civilize a people; but if it be so in this instance, however strange it may sound, we had better yet have remained savage. The extreme parts of our united Scotland, whose people we despise for their frugality (another virtue which good company have made ashamed to shew itself), are honest in this article to a wonder; and in the Swedes dominions, towards the Pole, there is no name for adultery. They thought it an offence man could not commit against man, and have 20 word to express it in their language. The unpolished Lapland peasant, with these thoughts, is, as a human creature, much more respectable than the gay Briton, whose heart is stained with vices, and estranged from natural affection; and he is happier. The perfect confidence mutually reposed between him and the honest partner of his breast, entails a satisfaction even on the lowest poverty ; it gilds the humble hearth, and lights the cabin ; their homely meal is a sacrifice of thanks, and every breath of smoke rises in incense. If hand be laid upon the hand, it is sure affection; and if some infant plays about their knees, they look upon him, and on one another, with a delight that greatness seldom knows, because it feels distrust; each sees the other's features in the growing face, and the paternal love strengthens the marriage union.
This is their course of life; and see the difference which it raises in their conduct! With us, the husband falls in war; the widow mourns ten days, and then to cards. With them, if the poor fisher slips out of his boat, the wife cries, heaven will protect my children, and she follows him. She does not judge amiss ; her family becomes the common care, and while the wives of others blame, they also envy her.
This is savage wedlock; this the behaviour of the poor. Greatness should blush and imitate. Perhaps there has been no time in which a violation of the marriage oath was so common as at present. I am concerned that I must say the women hold it light; but to palliate, in some degree, a crime which nothing can excuse, it must be owned the husbands lead the way, and give the provocation.
There is a baseness in abandoning an honourable wife for the common prostitute, which custom cannot at all justify; and they add insult to the perfidy who do it openly. Can any man suppose a woman of delicacy can receive him to her chaste arms from a common creature ? It poisons conjugal affection. --Or that she can respect him as she did, who treats her with a manifest contempt? Beside the sacred character of virtue, there is something due to the place of a wife; and this is an indignity, if she has spirit, never to be forgiven; the breach is, at the best, but covered, not made up; and true happiness is afterwards impossible.
The happiness of marriage must depend on love, and this is much more delicate than common friendship; the merit, the claim to it, is not to have offended; for to be truly forgiven is impossible. They may be content with one another who have had this cause of disagreement, and friends, by intercession, or necessity of circumstances, may keep them together ; but content and living in one house do not amount to marriage. He who has given offence this way may do it again; there is reason to believe he who never did it never will; and there is no true confidence but that which springs from having no sin on remembrance.
I know this doctrine of a husband's chastiiy will sound strangely in the present age, for truth must do so to the ear of error, but it is not less true. Men are familiarized to it by example, and induced by public invitation. There is scarce a family where the prostitution is not committed, or a newspaper which does not invite men to it, under all the false allurements of a vitiated sense, and promises of false security. Gentlemen, come on,” this is their common language, “ beauty was made for you, and variety is pleasure! What do you
want? Of what are you afraid ? The prostitute advertises her
beauty in a copy of verses, and the green lamp in the passage “ offers you security ; nay, if you neglect this, the doctor, in the “ next paragraph, promises a speedy cure, and your wife shall not “ know it:” Vain and ridiculous man! If you suppose the advantages are all your own; read farther, convenient lodgings are offered to your wife; or if your daughter boggles at consequences, she reads where she may lie-in privately.
The government should interfere in this. It may be that some path to the poor folly should be open; but posts should not be set at every corner to direct men to it. Half the ill they commit is forced upon them; and, perhaps, the wildest young man of the present age 3 would have made an honourable member of the state, if those who lived upon his vices had not led him into them.
These open invitations should not be permitted. We are a Christian if we are a free people; and that restraint which is not withheld in one place, should no more be omitted in another. If a man, for bread, prints an indecent word about the state, he is arraigned ; and the spunge, liberty of the press, shrinks as it is squeezed by the hard hand of justice. "Why should those laws which hold government sacred, pay less regard to religion ? Or why should not our rulers shew as much respect to the morals as the allegiance of the people.