ating a panic may be traced in the Irish
insurrection, in the curious memoirs of James the Second. A forged
proclamation of the Prince of Orange was set forth by one Speke, and a
rumour spread that the Irish troops were killing and burning in all
parts of the kingdom! A magic-like panic instantly ran through the
people, so that in one quarter of the town of Drogheda they imagined
that the other was filled with blood and ruin. During this panic
pregnant women miscarried, aged persons died with terror, while the
truth was, that the Irish themselves were disarmed and dispersed, in
utter want of a meal or a lodging!

In the unhappy times of our civil wars under Charles the First, the
newspapers and the private letters afford specimens of this political
contrivance of false reports of every species. No extravagance of
invention to spread a terror against a party was too gross, and the city
of London was one day alarmed that the royalists were occupied by a plan
of blowing up the river Thames, by an immense quantity of powder
warehoused at the river-side; and that there existed an organised though
invisible brotherhood of many thousands with _consecrated knives_; and
those who hesitated to give credit to such rumours were branded as
malignants, who took not the danger of the parliament to heart. Forged
conspiracies and reports of great but distant victories were inventions
to keep up the spirit of a party, but oftener prognosticated some
intended change in the government. When they were desirous of augmenting
the army, or introducing new garrisons, or using an extreme measure with
the city, or the royalists, there was always a new conspiracy set
afloat; or when any great affair was to be carried in parliament,
letters of great victories were published to dishearten the opposition,
and infuse additional boldness in their own party. If the report lasted
only a few days, it obtained its purpose, and verified the observation
of Catharine de' Medici. Those politicians who raise such false reports
obtain their end: like the architect who, in building an arch, supports
it with circular props and pieces of timber, or any temporary rubbish,
till he closes the arch; and when it can support itself, he throws away
the props! There is no class of political lying which can want for
illustration if we consult the records of our civil wars; there we may
trace the whole art in all the nice management of its shades, its
qualities, and its more