What was the consequence?  The whole kingdom of Ireland was instantly in a flame.  Threatened by foreigners, and, as they thought, insulted by England, they resolved at once to resist the power of France and to cast off yours.  As for us, we were able neither to protect nor to restrain them.  Forty thousand men were raised and disciplined without commission from the crown.  Two illegal armies were seen with banners displayed at the same time and in the same country.  No executive magistrate, no judicature, in Ireland, would acknowledge the legality of the army which bore the king’s commission; and no law, or appearance of law, authorized the army commissioned by itself.  In this unexampled state of things, which the least error, the least trespass on the right or left, would have hurried down the precipice into an abyss of blood and confusion, the people of Ireland demand a freedom of trade with arms in their hands.  They interdict all commerce between the two nations.  They deny all new supply in the House of Commons, although in time of war.  They stint the trust of the old revenue, given for two years to all the king’s predecessors, to six months.  The British Parliament, in a former session, frightened into a limited concession by the menaces of Ireland, frightened out of it by the menaces of England, was now frightened back again, and made an universal surrender of all that had been thought the peculiar, reserved, uncommunicable rights of England:  the exclusive commerce of America, of Africa, of the West Indies,—­all the enumerations of the Acts of Navigation,—­all the manufactures,—­iron, glass, even the last pledge of jealousy and pride, the interest hid in the secret of our hearts, the inveterate prejudice moulded into the constitution of our frame, even the sacred fleece itself, all went together.  No reserve, no exception; no debate, no discussion.  A sudden light broke in upon us all.  It broke in, not through well-contrived and well-disposed windows, but through flaws and breaches,—­through the yawning chasms of our ruin.  We were taught wisdom by humiliation.  No town in England presumed to have a prejudice, or dared to mutter a petition.  What was worse, the whole Parliament of England, which retained authority for nothing but surrenders, was despoiled of every shadow of its superintendence.  It was, without any qualification, denied in theory, as it had been trampled upon in practice.  This scene of shame and disgrace has, in a manner, whilst I am speaking, ended by the perpetual establishment of a military power in the dominions of this crown, without consent of the British legislature,[48] contrary to the policy of the Constitution, contrary to the Declaration of Right; and by this your liberties are swept away along with your supreme authority,—­and both, linked together from the beginning, have, I am afraid, both together perished forever.