The history of Ireland affords a melancholy, but most instructive lesson, pre-eminent as that unhappy country has been, at once for natural and political advantages, and for misery, turbulence, and crime.  A Government, to command the obedience of the people by its firmness, and their confidence by a marked consideration for their feelings and welfare; a gentry, united with them as their leaders, protectors, and friends; and a Church, winning them to a purer faith by the unobtrusive display of benefits and excellences:  all these blessings might have been its own.  But by fatal mismanagement, the gentry, those of them who remained, were viewed as the garrison of a conquered country by the multitude, who were taught to feel themselves a degraded caste.  The Church became identified in their minds with all that they most complained of; and the faith for which they suffered was doubly endeared to them.  Thus the instruments for their deliverance confirmed their thraldom, and what should have won affection aggravated their enmity.

If there were a mistake beyond all this, it was that of expecting peace from concessions extorted by violence, and calculated only to give increased power to the enemies of existing institutions.  Lord Exmouth held a very decided opinion upon this point, and foresaw that strong coercive measures would become necessary in consequence.  He well knew how feeble would be the restraint imposed by any conditions contemplated by the advocates of change; and in allusion to the remark of the Duke of Northumberland, who had expressed a belief that he would think differently, when he saw the securities which would accompany the concessions—­“Securities!” he said, “it is all nonsense!  I never yet could see them, and I never shall.”  He justly anticipated, that as long as anything remained to be extorted, new demands would be founded upon every new concession.  “How would you like,” he said to one of his officers, “to see Roman Catholic chaplains on board our ships of war?” While the question was in progress, he wrote with prophetic truth—­“The times are awful, when the choice of two evils only is left, a threatened rebellion, or the surrender of our constitution, by the admission of Catholics into Parliament and all offices.  I think even this will not satisfy Ireland.  Ascendancy is their object.  You may postpone, and by loss of character parry the evil for a short space; but not long, depend upon it.  You and I may not see it, but our children will, and be obliged to meet the struggle man to man, which we may now shirk.  By God alone can we be saved from such consequences; may He shed his power and grace upon us as a nation!”