begun in 1786. In 1788 there were 14,327 dwelling-houses in
Dublin, and 110,000 inhabitants. Two hundred and twenty peers and three
hundred commoners had separate residences. Dublin was fashionable, and
Dublin prospered.[584]

I have already said that corruption soon did its fatal work. It
sanctioned, nay, it compelled, the persecution of the majority of the
nation for their religious creed; and with this persecution the last
flame of national prosperity expired, and the persecutors and the
persecuted shared alike in the common ruin. In 1792 Lord Edward
FitzGerald denounced the conduct of the House in these ever-memorable
words: "I do think, sir, that the Lord Lieutenant and the majority of
this House are the worst subjects the King has;" and when a storm arose,
the more violent from consciousness that his words were but too true,
for all retraction he would only say:

"I am accused of having said that I think the Lord Lieutenant and the
majority of this House are the worst subjects the King has. I said so;
'tis true; and I am sorry for it."

On the 1st of January, 1801, a new imperial standard was exhibited on
London Tower, and on the Castles of Dublin and Edinburgh. It was formed
of the three crosses of St. George, St. Patrick, and St. Andrew, and is
popularly known as the Union Jack. The _fleur de lis_ and the word
France were omitted from royal prerogatives and titles; and a
proclamation was issued appointing the words _Dei Gratia, Britaniarum
Rex, Fidei Defensor_. The _Dublin Gazette_ of July, 1800, contained the
significant announcement of the creation of sixteen new peerages. The
same publication for the last week of the year contained a fresh list of
twenty-six others. Forty-two creations in six months were rather an
extensive stretch of prerogative; and we cannot be surprised if the
majority of the nation had more respect for the great untitled, whose
ancestry were known, and were quite above accepting the miserable bribe
of a modern peerage.

Strangely enough, from the very day on which the Union was proclaimed,
the Catholic question became a ministerial difficulty. Pitt's
administration failed on this very point, although it had seemed
invincible a few weeks before. The obstinacy of the King, which, indeed,
almost amounted to a monomania, was the principal cause. He made it a
personal matter, declared it the "most jacobinical thing he had ever
heard of;" and he informed the world at large that he would c