not to be worth any quitrent, "and therefore remains desolate and uninhabited, but are a receptacle for thieves, robbers, and tories, to the great detriment of the country, and delay of her majesty's revenue." On these considerations, a power is similarly given to the lord-lieutenant, &c., as before, to grant those lands to protestants, for reasonable rents, and such terms of years as they might see fit. Still more to the purpose declared in the preamble, is the first clause of the next following chapter of the act, which confirms every estate vested in pursuance of the acts of settlement and explanation, in the last reign, to be held free from all liabilities and exceptions contained in the provisions of that act, and in future barring all claimants who had not hitherto brought their actions, by the full and final extinction of their pretended rights.*

An advantage of at least equal importance to the trade of this kingdom was the act for recovery of small debts, &c., attributable entirely to the judicious advice of Sir Richard Cox. He also obtained an act of the English parliament, allowing the exportation of Irish linen direct to the colonies.

The effect of his visit to England was to make the character and distinguished abilities of Cox more thoroughly known and appreciated; and Mr Methuen, the Irish chancellor, having been sent ambassador to Portugal, Cox was raised to that high office.

In 1705, Sir Richard was appointed lord-justice, together with lord Cutts, the duke of Ormonde being at the time lord-lieutenant. The jacobite principles of this nobleman were fully understood, and there was entertained among the members of the Irish administration an anxious wish for his removal. The reader is aware that on both sides of the water there was at this time a powerful though latent collision of the two great artagonist parties on the subject of the succession. It was universally felt that the queen and court party were secretly favourable to the Pretender, and that all the great leaders of the court party kept up a private correspondence with that unfortunate family. Among these, some, as Marlborough, Harley, &c., were simply desirous to keep themselves well with either side, and had a sincere desire to preserve the act of settlement as limited by the act of succession. Others, among whom St John with the duke of Ormonde were the chief, were more sincere in their political zeal for the exile. The jacobites were of course preferred to place and power; and during this reign there was a general disposition of the administrative arrangements for the purposes of that party. This was carried to as great a height as the strong and universal sense of the British public admitted, so that there is abundant proof that the most of the court measures and appointments were dictated by James, or by his authorized agents in London. Ireland was, as ever, the rallying point of expectation; the devoted tenacity of the popular affections, the influence of the Roman See, the over-mastery of the thoroughly diffused agency of the regular clergy, and the general, and indeed natural, bias of a prevailing creed, which by its very institution was political, and which a stringent control imbittered; all these considerations, of which the

Ir. Statutes, 2 Anne Reg. c. ix.

most prominent had already made Ireland the stage of a desolating conflict, now made it the scene of an important byplay of party. Under these circumstances, it is not improbable that there were several strong currents of public feeling against the person and conduct of the duke of Ormonde. In spite of the popularity of his very name and title, it was in effect difficult for him long to continue in favour with any. Compelled by circumstances to pursue a line of conduct which deprived him of the regard of the Irish party, his real temper and private views were too well known to be trusted by the English. The British cabinet, reluctantly hurried along by the strong zeal of the whig party, which then occupied the position and politics of the modern conservative, the measures of the administration were for the most part in conformity with the great protestant feeling in England, and the duke was directed to "prevent the growth of popery." To this effect he had pledged himself, and he kept his promise. From the state of feeling already described as secretly governing the administration of affairs, we should be inclined to infer that numerous under-currents of fear, suspicion, doubt, and intrigue, of which we have before us no direct evidence, then strongly agitated the minds of political men, and led to demonstrations not now precisely to be explained. The duke was, we doubt not, at the time sincere in his profession of political faith, though after-circumstances show that his mind was working round to the strong bias of the court. If the inference should yet be premature, still the anti-Jacobite zeal of the English people, and of the protestant party in Ireland, exasperated by a just suspicion of the court party, was not easily satisfied. The distinction of whig and tory became at this time prevalent in Ireland, and with it, it is probable, that the violent party feelings connected with it were also imported from which our inference derives additional probability. Whatever were the duke's opinions, he must have at the time begun to be an object of jealous observation. And if it be said that the decision of his conduct was sufficient to exempt him from doubt, yet it is to be observed that for this he had the less credit with the whig party, as he was known to have, from carelessness and facility of character, so entangled himself in the discharge of his public trusts, as to be much in the power of the leaders of that party. Whatever were the causes, after the duke's recall to England, the feeling of the council against his continuing to hold the vice-regal office, began to show itself strongly. Lord Cutts, with Sir Richard Cox, were on this occasion appointed lords-justices. Cutts died, and an effort was made by some of the Irish council to persuade Sir Richard to issue writs to the council to elect a governor; by this means hoping that the duke might be superseded tacitly. To render this proposal more persuasive, it is asserted that it was suggested to Sir Richard that he would be the person on whom the choice of the council would fall. He was too experienced and sagacious to be circumvented by such an artifice, and repelled the temptation. An old statute of Henry VIII. was proposed as the authority for this proposal: Sir Richard explained that this statute was but a provision for the absence of the chief magistrate of the kingdom. The councillors urged, and Sir Richard consulted his learned brethren, the judges and law officers of the crown, who coincided in his view, to which, thus confirmed, he

adhered, to the no small vexation of those who had endeavoured to urge him on the opposite course.

In April, 1707, the duke of Ormonde was removed, and the earl of Pembroke was appointed in his room. There seems, at the moment, to have been a strong doubt among Sir Richard's friends as to the consequences of the change as regarded himself. But on the following June, he found himself under the necessity of resigning the seals to the lord-lieutenant, who took them with an assurance that he would not have received them but with the design of adequate compensation. Sir Richard was aware of the active enmity to which both his recent conduct and his known politics had exposed him, and he felt that he must not expect to pass free from its effects; but with the natural firmness of his manly character, he resolved to face his enemies, and trust to the integrity of his entire conduct and character. His country affairs had been for some time calling for his presence, and he had been preparing to leave town; but, considering the construction which political animosity is always prepared to fasten on the most indifferent actions, he resolved to stand his ground, and brave the inquiry which he knew his enemies would soon set on foot. On this point he was not kept in suspense: numerous accusations were brought againt him; all of which he answered so fully and ably, as they followed each other, that the malevolence of his accusers was confounded, and their perseverance wearied.

On the death of queen Anne, Sir Richard retired from public life. In April, 1733, he was seized with an apoplectic attack, of which he died in the following month, at the age of eighty-three. He was endowed with many personal advantages, and many great qualifications for the professional career in which he rose to eminence, as well as for literature, such as it was in Ireland in his day. His historical work is well known, and has been largely used in the former parts of this work. His zeal, as a Protestant writer, is such as to render him liable to the charge of partiality; but he cannot be fairly charged with misrepresentation; and they who would make the charge, would do well to weigh his statements taken with their foundation in fact and general consistency, compared with the unmeasured and angry statements of the writers who may be regarded as his antagonists. His zeal is to be accounted for creditably, by the actual state of Ireland through his long life; and if we make many abatements on the score of fear and error, still, to estimate mens' conduct justly, we have no right to demand superhuman penetration, that looks beyond the present proba bilities and appearances, and measures opposition by the philosophical standard of a political canon, which, in the middle of the 19th century has not yet been ascertained.

Ir.

GEORGE FARQUHAR.

BORN, A.D. 1678.-DIED, A.D. 1707.

FARQUHAR was the son of a clergyman, and was born in Londonderry in 1678. He is said to have manifested early proofs of dramatic genius. He entered in the university of Dublin, in 1694; and, for some time, showed both industry and talent, but soon fell into a course of dissipation. The result was a total relaxation in his studies, and, if the account which has been given of his expulsion from college be true, he must have, for some time at least, fallen very low into the depraved levities, to which the young are liable when too soon set free from parental control. His class had been given an exercise on a sacred subject, which Farquhar having neglected until he was called upon in the hall, or perhaps in his tutor's apartment; he then proposed to acquit himself by an extemporaneous exercise. The proposal was allowed, and he wrote or uttered a jest at the same time so wretched, indecent, and blasphemous, that we cannot here make even an allusion to its monstrous purport. We are, indeed, inclined to disbelieve a story of such silliness and depravity; but, if it really occurred, it would serve to exemplify a mind so far gone from every sense of respect and decency, as for a time at least to have forgotten their existence in others; for it is said that Farquhar was disappointed at the failure of a witticism which could only have been tolerated in the last stages of drunkenness, to elicit the approbation of sober and religious men.

The narrative of this strange account relates that, in consequence he was expelled, tanquam pestilentia hujus societatis, from the university. The walks of professional life, which are the general aim of academic study, were thus closed against him, and he took refuge upon the stage for which he had in the meantime contracted a strong taste. He had formed an intimacy with Wilks, a well-known English actor, at the time engaged in Dublin, and by his interposition obtained an engagement. His debut was favourable, and he continued for a short time on the stage, until he had the ill fortune to wound a brother actor very severely in playing a part in Dryden's play of the Indian emperor. The accident was occasioned by his having inadvertently neglected to change his sword for a foil, in a scene in which he was to kill his antagonist. He was so much shocked that he resolved at once to abandon the stage as an actor.

His friend Wilks was at the time engaged by Rich to play in London. Farquhar accompanied him—and there is reason to presume, that he must have previously made up his mind to try his fortune and genius as a dramatic writer. He had also the good fortune to become acquainted with the earl of Orrery, who gave him a lieutenancy in his regiment.

In 1698, he brought out his comedy of "Love in a Bottle," which was acted with applause. In 1700, he produced his "Trip to the Jubilee," and obtained well-merited popularity by the character of Sir Harry Wildair. This celebrated comedy had a run of fifty-three

nights, and gained a reputation for Wilks in the principal character not inferior to that of the author. The same year Farquhar paid a visit to Holland, where he obtained the notice due to his celebrity. Among the incidents of this visit, he mentions an entertainment given by the earl of Westmoreland, at which king William was a guest.

By the influence of Farquhar, that well-known actress, Mrs Oldfield, was first introduced to the London boards in her sixteenth year. Her success was promoted by a drama brought out in 1701 by her protector, in which she obtained very distinguished applause. This was the year of Dryden's death-and Farquhar gives a description of his funeral in one of his letters. The following year he published his letters, essays, and poems, which are replete with all the peculiar qualities of his mind. Among these letters there is one in which he gives to his mistress, Mrs Oldfield, a very characteristic description of himself. "My outside is neither better nor worse than Creator made it; and the piece being drawn by so great an artist, 'twere presumption to say there were many strokes amiss. I have a body qualified to answer all the ends of its creation, and that's sufficient. As to the mind, which, in most men, wears as many changes as their body, so in me 'tis generally dressed in black. In short, my constitution is very splenetic, and my amours, both which I endeavour to hide lest the former should offend others, and the latter incommode myself; and my mind is so vigilant in restraining these two failings, that I am taken for an easy-natured man by my own sex, and an ill-natured clown by yours. I have little estate but what lies under the circumference of my hat; and should I by misfortune lose my head, I should not be worth a groat. But I ought to thank Providence that I can, by three hours' study, live one and twenty, with satisfaction to myself, and contribute to the maintenance of more families than some who have thousands a year."

In 1702, "the Inconstant" appeared with less than his usual success: this is accounted for by the circumstance of a change in the public taste in favour of the Italian opera. The same year he became the dupe of a female adventurer, who took a violent fancy to him, and determined to obtain him for a husband by an unprincipled stratagem, which, perhaps, loses much of its disgusting character when viewed in reference to the lax morals of the period, and the depraved lessons of the stage, in which Farquhar had his ample share. Knowing that he was not to be won without money, the female of whom we speak caused reports of her ample fortune to be circulated in every quarter which best suited her design. And, in the same way, it was conveyed to the vain poet's ear, that she had become desperately in love with him. Farquhar, who was utterly devoid of discretion, at once fell into the snare: the double bait was more than vanity and poverty could withstand. He married his fair ensnarer, and was, of course, undeceived not very satisfactorily-such a practical exemplification of his art he must have considered as bordering too nearly upon the tragic. But it was among the lessons of his pen, and in the habitual contemplation of his mind more nearly allied to the wit of the comic author, than to the baseness of the actual reality. Farquhar too, was not one to brood over an injury, or to reflect very seriously on any