impartiality, with which he acted, clamors thickened round him on all sides; and not only his administration was rendered uneasy to him, but the course of his Majesty's affairs also met with serious interruption.

One of the first objects to which his Grace applied himself, was the purging of the army by disbanding the disaffected. As it was a service which admitted no delay, the Exchequer being empty, he paid their arrears out of his own pocket. He, likewise, patronised several very important and lasting national improvements; particularly with respect to the growth of flax, and the manufacture of linen.

The republican party in England, who were said to meditate a new Commonwealth, or at least some limitation of the regal authority, flattered themselves with the assistance of these forces, and with the concurrence of the presbyterians, whom the Act of Uniformity had converted into mal-contents. As many of the Irish also were, by the Court of Claims, to be repossessed of their estates, the soldiers-adventurers, fearful of being thrust out of their new grants, loudly clamored against the designs of government; and some of the more furious, resolving to keep by the sword what by the sword they had acquired, readily engaged with the disaffected.

An insurrection was intended, a conspiracy formed, and a private Committee* appointed; but the whole affair was betrayed to the Duke. Notwithstanding this intelligence, however, Ormond owed his preservation to his own vigilance. The day fixed for

* Blood, who subsequently stole the crown from the jeweloffice in the Tower, was one of the rebel Committee.

surprising the castle was the tenth of March, of which he received notice. But the conspirators afterward changed it to the fifth: of this, his informer was ignorant; and nothing but his Grace's caution, of which the traitors had some information, prevented the attempt from being made.

His attachment to the Earl of Clarendon having involved him in the odium which pursued that illustrious statesman, notwithstanding the purity of his conduct, he was by the machinations of the Duke of Buckingham deprived of his government in 1669. During the same year, however, he was elected Chancellor of the University of Oxford.

In 1670, his unalterable zeal for his Majesty's service induced him to protect the Irish Remonstrants. These were the Catholics, who opposed the violences of the Pope's nuncio; but the Anti-remonstrants prevailing by the support of the thenceforward English ministry, the Duke became an object of general hatred among the Irish Papists.

About the same time, a desperate design was formed against him by Colonel Blood, whom he had imprisoned in Ireland on account of his former plot. This desperado, being now in London, determined to seize his person, on his return from a city-entertainment; and in the prosecution of this purpose, the Duke was dragged out of his coach in St. James' Street and placed behind the son of his enterprising foe on horseback, either to be executed at Tyburn, or (as others state) to be conveyed out of the kingdom, and compelled to sign certain papers relative to an estate forfeited by Blood. They had already conveyed him beyond Devonshire House in Piccadilly, when by his struggles he threw both the man

and himself from the horse, and fortunately procuring assistance effected his release from the assassins. Blood, however, for certain reasons having been taken into favour, the King, though indignant at the attempt, requested the Duke to forgive it: to which he replied, If his Majesty could pardon him for having attempted to steal the crown, he himself might easily overlook the assault upon his life.'

For the seven succeeding years, Ormond was neither in favour with the court, nor employed by it: but, in 1677, he was surprised by a message announcing the King's intention to pay him a visit. The Duke of York, having reason to apprehend that the Cabal,' or court-party, intended to substitute the Duke of Monmouth as successor to Essex in the Lord Lieutenancy, with a view of frustrating their project had recommended Ormond to his royal brother, as the person most likely to conciliate general confidence. The loyal statesman acquiesced in the proposal; and on his arrival adopted vigorous measures for disarming the Papists, and maintaining public tranquillity: upon which, his Sovereign declared with an oath, that so long as he lived, he should never be put out of that government."

He had the misfortune soon afterward of losing his eldest son, the Earl of Ossory,* a distinguished

*To the memory of this accomplished young man a beautiful tribute is paid by Dryden, in his Absalom and Achitophel,' where he characterises the Duke of Ormond as

*

• Barzillai, crown'd with honour and with years.
Long since, the rising rebels he withstood
In regions waste, beyond the Jordan's flood:
Unfortunately brave to buoy the state,
But sinking underneath his master's fate;

young man, with whom he lived on terms of the most affectionate confidence. It was greatly his wish

In exile with his godlike prince he mourn'd:
For him he suffer'd, and with him return'd.
The court he practised, not the courtier's art:
Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart;
Which well the noblest objects knew to choose-
The fighting warrior, and recording muse.
His bed could once a fruitful issue boast:
Now more than half a father's name is lost;
His eldest hope with every grace adorn'd,
By me (so heaven will have it) always mourn'd
And always honour'd, snatch'd in manhood's prime
By' unequal fates and providence's crime:
Yet not before the goal of honour won,

All parts fulfill'd of subject and of son;
Swift was the race, but short the time to run.
Oh! narrow circle, but of power divine;
Scanted in space, but perfect in thy line!

}

By sea, by land, thy matchless worth was known;

Arms thy delight, and war was all thy own.

Thy force infused the fainting Tyrians [Dutch] propp'd,
And haughty Pharaoh [France] found his fortune stopp'd.
Oh ancient honour! oh unconquer'd hand,

Whom foes unpunish'd never could withstand!

But Israel [England] was unworthy of his name:
Short is the date of all immoderate fame.

It looks as heaven our ruin had design'd,

And durst not trust thy fortune and thy mind.'

Upon the death of Lord Ossory in 1680, the Lord Chamberlain wrote to his father, then at Kilkenny, to state the circumstances of it, and the particular requests of the deceased; to which the Duke returned the following reply:

Kilkenny, August 9, 1680.

Though I had much more fear than hope of my son Ossory's recovery from yours of the 27th of the last month, and did all I could to prepare myself for what yours of the 31st brought me; yet I find I was mistaken in myself, and that I want that composure I ought to have. The breach that the death of such a

to have called a parliament in Ireland, in order to settle affairs; but to this his Majesty would not give his consent. On a more limited scale of improve

son has made in my family, with all the consequences of it, come into my thoughts as fast as grief will allow them entrance. I consider my own age, and my grandson's youth, and how unfit we are to contend with public and domestic difficulties: but God having let me see the vanity and sinfulness of any confidence and reliance upon that son, will I trust, upon a hearty submission to his blessed will, extend his protection to those he has left behind him. I have now in this world no business of my own belonging to the world, but to provide for his widow and fatherless children. All I have and shall have is, and, I trust in God, will be theirs and I wish, for their sakes, I had been a better manager than I have been. My son's kindness to his wife, and care of her, increases my value of him and my sorrow for him; and I am glad he expressed it so frequently, when he thought of that hour which is come upon us. But there was no other need of it, than the manifestation of his good-nature; for I am ready to do for her, whatever she or her friends can wish, knowing that who are her friends must be her children's. What is to be done in relation to the payments of debts, and rewards of servants, I must have more time and more settled thoughts to resolve upon; only, in general, my intention is to fulfil all his desires, as far as they can be reasonably executed. The body I wish may remain in a decent repository, till I am able to think of removing it where I purpose to lie myself. I am not able to judge of the advantage of his son's appearing so early; but if the Bishop has delayed the sending him on your last summons till he hears from me, as by a letter from him I find his intention was, I desire he may be left there till I am in a case to offer your Lordship my sense concerning the disposing of him for the time to come. And, if the youth be with you, I wish he may be sent back as I should soon as you have produced him where you think fit. now own all your kindnesses to my son, which have been so long, so constant, and so useful to him to the last, and I am confident your love will transfer to those he hath left. Think but how I loved, and valued him; think me grateful, and then you will make some estimate of my sense of your concernment for him, &c.'