rose for the purpose of moving an humble Address to his royal highness the Prince Regent for the gracious Speech which had been just read. If it had fallen to his lot, to have, with a similar object, on any ordinary opening of parliament, presented himself to the attention of the House, it would have been his first duty, conscious as he was of his own inability to the task, to implore the indulgence of the House. If then under no very extraordinary circumstances he should have felt most anxious to have that indulgence extended to him, how much more solicitous must he be to acquire it, in the situation in which he then stood—a situation which he would fain believe was attended with so many considerations of delicacy and difficulty as in a degree warranted his claim for a double portion of its candour and allowance. The mere mention of the Speech which had just been read, must of itself recall to their recollection, the state of public events—a state calculated to excite in that House and in the country at large, every principle and feeling of sympathy and interest. It was a state which led to a necessity, in providing for which the most able and sagacious were inevitably liable to error and mistake. Some credit was therefore due to the vigilance of that parliament, which had in such an emergency acted with admitted wisdom—some tribute to the superintendence of those who directed its course of proceeding. Most gladly would he if he could with propriety pass over the first topic to which the Speech of the Prince Regent adverted—he meant the calamity of the King's indisposition. He would have preferred to have left that topic to the impressions which the interesting language and sentiments of that speech were sure to excite, because he was well aware that there was not in the House or in the country an individual that would not duly appreciate them. But on such an afflicting occurrence—afflicting to his royal highness the Prince of Wales—sincerely and deeply lamented by every class of the community—silence became impossible; it forced upon one's thoughts whatever were the endeavours to elude it. If in Portugal the country had to boast even more brilliant successes than had attended the brilliant progress of the late campaign; if in America it had to boast an efficient ally incited to hostility by the tyrannic aggressions of France, still it would be impossible to flee from the great calamity which, in the affliction of the sovereign had befallen his people.—Such promising and advantageous occurrences, such desirable and decisive events, instead of affording relief to the general affliction, would more fully reveal and illustrate the magnitude of the public calamity, by shewing to the world the just extent of that distress which must necessarily be the consequence of the present heavy affliction of the common father of his people, under whose government such auspicious results to the happiness and liberty of the world, had taken place.

In an emergency of this description, he could not, he would confess, avoid entertaining a confident hope, that they had now arrived at that period, when gentlemen on every side of the House would be sensible of the necessity of giving support to the government, and thereby carrying into effect the wish, that must be common to them all, of providing effectually for the public safety under circumstances of no ordinary pressure and perplexity. In calling upon the House, then, to afford its cheerful and cordial support to the government in a moment of such peculiar difficulty, he felt that he was making no common place call for unanimity. He thought, therefore, he could congratulate himself and the House on having arrived at that period when all differences would be forgotten—aperiod which would be, he should hope, the commencement of peace amongst them, the date of the cessation of hostilities, the signal for the union of all parties, when one side of the House would offer its talent and its spirit and the other carry an oblivion of all disputes into one common exertion for the service of the country. Indeed he almost made sure of unanimity, when he reflected on the arguments of those who contended that, to a government with such radical weakness, as that of a Regent must naturally be, the full powers of the crown were necessary—arguments which, in his judgment, were most conscientiously delivered, though erroneously applied, but which, when remembered, it was impossible that those who advanced them, could refuse to that government their confidence and assent. With these recollections, he had good reasons to conclude that there was an end to party hostility—that all men would, as they were bound, labour in conjunction for the public interest.

The great object of both sides of the House should now be, as the Regency was established, to come forward with all their powers and abilities to support the Regent's government and to promote the service of their country. Whatever of suspense, whatever of difficulty, there may be in the situation of the kingdom, the wisdom of parliament was strenuously called on by the Speech to examine and provide for. But the appeal contained in that Speech did not alone recommend it to their earnest consideration. There was something which called still more for it—which rendered it of still higher importance—"it was a plain accurate picture of Great Britain." And in the hopes it expressed of the wisdom and conduct to be pursued by parliament it best expounded their duties. His duty, in his judgment, he could best discharge, by glancing generally at the details which it comprehended.

In glancing at the topics touched upon in the Speech, he saw no necessity for going at any considerable length into the consideration of them, because those parts which were connected with any difficulty, would hereafter undergo a full and satisfactory investigation. By the capture of the islands of Bourbon and Amboyna, the colonial resources of the enemy had been still further crippled. Though the House was in the habit of repeatedly hearing of the success of the expeditions fitted out against the enemies colonies, still he trusted, that the achievements he had just mentioned, particularly the capture of Bourbon, would not be considered as a matter of inconsiderable importance. They could not be now expected to boast of very great captures from the enemy, after the numberless successes which had been already in the course of the war obtained by the British arms—and which, in fact, had left them little more to conquer. But if little of colonial territory was left to France in the former periods of the war, the period had now arrived when that power was completely deprived of the little that remained. The defeat of the enemy, in his invasion of Sicily, which island he had most presumptuously and arrogantly asserted his ability and intention to conquer, was effected under circumstances truly honourable to the British troops; and, when the House considered the great superiority of the enemy on that occasion, and the celerity with which their attempt was rendered abortive, they might rely with firmness, if the so much boasted invasion of this country should ever be attempted, that a similar result would follow. When he looked to the bravery of the troops, and the skill and heroism of their commanders, he thought they were well worthy of receiving the thanks of parliament. A degree of bravery and energy had been displayed in repulsing the French on that memorable occasion, which would point out to them the folly and temerity of hereafter approaching the shores of Great Britain.

When he looked to Spain and the Peninsula, whatever may be the opinions of many members either as to the policy or the conduct of our military operations, there, he still believed that there was no person disinclined to go the length of stating, that hitherto at least the designs of the enemy had been frustrated. Whether they were contented with the progress of the British arms.—whether they believed that opportunities of greater prospects, and leading to more successful results if they had been improved, had presented themselves, still those who even thought so, could not hesitate to admit the French Government was disappointed. But in considering the objects attempted to be gained, in that country by France it would be well to contrast the footing on which she stood at present, with the promises which she had held out. All these promises had been falsified:—all her hopes had been destroyed—all her threats had been rendered abortive! From the press of the Moniteur—from the mouth of Buonaparte—enslaved Europe had been told, that, on the approach of the French armies, not an Englishman would be suffered to remain on the Peninsula. The Government of this country had pursued a different mode—they made no such boast. Every sober and rational man in Great Britain supposed that it would be a long-protracted struggle—that it must necessarily be a warfare of long continuance—a warfare of slow progress and tedious and complicated operations. The threats of the French government so far from having been realised recoiled upon their own author. The British troops, which were to have been driven from the Peninsula, still triumphantly maintained themselves there. And when he contemplated the increased strength of the British army at present there—the gallantry with which they had uniformly behaved, and the successes thay had gained—he could see nothing that should lead the House or the country to entertain any doubt as to the successful termination of their hitherto victorious career. If then the British Army had not only sustained its character, but established its superioity over the enemy;—if on the heights of Busaco another proud confirmation of the invincibility of British prowess had been witnessed;—if the spirit, infused by British example, and regulated by British discipline, among the native legions of Portugal, afforded another pledge for well-grounded hope;—if in the character of the Commander of our forces, Lord Wellington, the world now saw the developement of all those qualities, which constituted the claim to military talents of the highest order;—if it observed the brave nations of the Peninsula, after the defection of almost all their aristocracy, after the desertion of some and the cowardice of others of their military leaders, with their legislature besieged, still maintaining the struggle for independence—surely that was a cause which Great Britain was bound to support, and whilst Spain and Portugal performed their duties, not to be deterred from affording every possible co-operation and assistance. Lord Wellington, he, was proud to assert, had eminently displayed, throughout his campaign in the Peninsula, those qualities for which he had been before celebrated; and developed, also, every military qualification, his possession of which had been before doubted. To the talents of Lord Wellington, therefore he thought the country was greatly indebted.—But for his consummate skill, the eagles of Buonaparte would have been long since placed on the towers of Lisbon. He was the more anxious to say thus much on this subject, when he considered the delicacy of the situation of the hon. member (Mr. R. Wellesley, who was to follow him in the debate.) Portugal, then, offered every hope, and surely Spain was not the subject of despair—Spain, which had made such noble efforts when her treasure was absolutely in the hands of her enemy, and her legislature even at this moment blockaded by his armies. This hope, cheering as was the prospect it held out to all, ought to be a subject of congratulation, not only to the country but to the administration: it justified their views and their measures, and rescued them from a serious weight of responsibility.

In such a struggle Spain must no doubt have suffered severely; but there was as little doubt that France had also suffered deeply. If indeed be was asked, in what campaign since the revolutionary war, the enemy had lost most, he should point to the present. Perhaps it would not be in his power to offer the distinct and precise documents for his assertion; but still from general reasoning and particular dates, it would be found that France had poured into Spain by the Pyrenees no less than 650,000 men; that the present amount of the French armies in the Peninsula did not exceed 200,000 men;—and that in Spain the residue had found their graves. Was he asked where, he could not tell—the nature of the silent and desultory war there carried on, afforded the best explanation, and he was happy to find that the dispatches received as late as yesterday gave still further illustrations of its success.—To this species of warfare the nature of that country was peculiarly suited;—a country of which it had been said, that it was in possession of the French by day, and of the Spaniards by night. Not only, however, had Spain been benefited by our interference in her cause—not only had our own character and country been elevated and assisted—but all Europe, all the world perhaps, participated in its advantages. From what he now saw going on in the north of Europe, he had little hesitation in saying, that had it not been for Spain, the powers which were now debating the policy of France might have been suffering in her thraldom. Petersburgh itself, so far from being the extremity would have been the centre of French dominion.

With respect to our relations with America, he had only to hope that a wise and independent nation would view with indignation that spirit which France had evinced against the admitted laws of civilized states—that with that power originated the aggression's of which she complained—and that therefore every consideration of mutual interest would incline America to amicable accommodations, as it led him to hope that the discussions now pending would lead to an amicable termination. He doubted not that every mode, consistent with the honour of the nation, would be essayed to restore harmony between the two countries. But this he would say, that whether the Berlin and Milan decrees were rescinded by France, or were permitted to operate fully—still the feeling which her conduct must ultimately excite in America would be, that whatever her determination was, it did not arise from a principle of friendship; the vacillations of France must betray a doubt of her sincerity; and that doubt would awaken feelings of indignation in America, which would clearly inform her of the interested views by which France was actuated.

In turning to the internal condition of the country, he would call on the House with confidence to express their satisfaction at the growing improvement and prosperity of the empire If the contemplation of that prosperity was more pleasing at one time than at another, it must be particularly so at the present period, when, from the circumstances of the war, the country had but little to expect from an intercourse with foreign nations, and when all the exertions of France were directed against the commerce of Great Britain. In such a conjuncture, it was no small consolation, that they had distinct proofs of her growing prosperity—that they were still possessed of the means of preventing the French Emperor from succeeding in his ambitious attempt to form an universal dynasty.—The view, therefore, of our commercial and financial concerns was, as represented by the Speech, with only one exception, particularly prosperous. Such a circumstance, at all times consolatory, was now, when the war had taken a new turn, especially so. In such a contest as we were engaged, some instances of partial failure, even in our maritime exertions, where we were most successful, must be looked for. But these were natural, and we must be prepared for them: we must not, at all events, allow them to cloud the prospect of our generally pros- perous situation: we must not suffer them to destroy all confidence in the promise which futurity afforded us. The chances of our failure were few, the proofs of our success many and manifest; and it was now, not only our own interest, or the interest of our allies, but the interest of Europe, nay, of the world itself, for which we were contending. It was important to our relations with the enemy, with our allies, and with the world, that Great Britain should place a full and just confidence in her own strength and resources. She should take that imposing attitude, which would convey to the present age and impress upon posterity, that however perilous the season, Great Britain possessed within herself the seeds of perpetual renovation. No doubt parliament would consider itself bound by every tie of duty and interest to support such a contest as that in which the country was engaged. He now came to the last feature of the Speech—the resumption of the sceptre by his Majesty, under the care of Providence. Such a calamity as had befallen the sovereign proved at least one thing which must be cheering and consolatory to his heart; he meant, the filial duty and patriotism of his heir apparent. Perhaps at that very moment his parental mind was receiving from his son himself the confirmation of his affection; an affection which contributed to the happiness of the one, and constituted the glory of the other. It would be also his enviable lot to learn the sincere ardour of every other branch of his family; and united to that, every proof of the devotion and esteem of his larger family, the people he had so long and so mildly governed. The hon. gent. then concluded by moving,

"That an humble Address be presented to his royal highness the Prince Regent, to thank his Royal Highness for the gracious speech which he has directed to be delivered by the Lords Commissioners:

"To assure his Royal Highness, that we deeply lament, in common with all his Majesty's subjects, the great national calamity, so peculiarly afflicting to the personal and filial feelings of his Royal Highness, which has been the occasion of imposing upon his Royal Highness the duty of exercising, in his Majesty's name, the royal authority of this kingdom:

"To offer our humble acknowledgments to his Royal Highness, for the con- fidence with which he is graciously pleased to rely on the wisdom and zeal of parliament for assistance and support to meet the great difficulties which his Royal Highness feels to belong to the important trust reposed in him; and to assure his Royal Highness that our utmost endeavours shall be exerted to justify that confidence, and to give all the assistance, which this House is capable of affording, to his exertions for directing the powers with which his Royal Highness is invested, to the advancement of the prosperity, welfare, and security of his Majesty's dominions:

"To express to his Royal Highness our sincere condolence for the loss which his Majesty, his Royal Highness, and the Royal Family have sustained, by the death of her late royal highness the Princess Amelia:

"Humbly, to state our participation in the satisfaction expressed by his Royal Highness, that fresh opportunities have been afforded, during the last campaign, for distinguishing the valour and skill of his Majesty's forces both by sea and land:

"To express the pleasure which we derive from considering that the colonial dependencies of the enemy have been still further reduced by the capture of the islands of Bourbon and Amboyna; and that the attack upon the island of Sicily, which was announced by the enemy to the world with a presumptuous anticipation of success, has been repulsed by the persevering exertions and valour of his Majesty's land and sea forces; and that the judicious arrangements adopted by the officers commanding on that station derived material support from the zeal and ardour which were manifested during this contest by the inhabitants of Sicily, and from the co-operation of the naval means which were directed by his Sicilian Majesty to this object:

"Humbly to express our hearty satisfaction in learning that, in Portugal and at Cadiz, the defence of which constituted the principal objects of his Majesty's exertions in the last campaign, the designs of the enemy have been hitherto frustrated; that the consummate skill, prudence, and perseverance of lieutenant-general lord viscount Wellington, and the discipline and determined bravery of the officers and men under his command, have been conspicuously displayed throughout the whole of the campaign; and that the effect of those distinguished qualities, in inspiring confidence and energy into the troops of his Majesty's allies, has been happily evinced by their general good conduct, and particularly by the brilliant part which they bore in the repulse of the enemy at Buzaco; and to assure his Royal Highness of our readiness to consider of the means for enabling him to continue the most effectual assistance to the brave nations of the peninsula, in the support of a contest, which they manifest a determination to maintain with unabated perseverance; and to state our entire concurrence with his Royal Highness in feeling that the best interests of the British empire must be deeply affected in the issue of this contest, on which the liberties and independence of the Spanish and Portuguese nations entirely depend:

"Humbly to return our acknowledgments to his Royal Highness for informing us that discussions are now depending between this country and the United States of America, and to assure his Royal Highness that we humbly and sincerely join him in wishing that he may be enabled to bring these discussions to an amicable termination, consistent with the honour of his Majesty's crown, and the maritime rights and interests of the United Kingdom:

"To thank his Royal Highness for having directed the estimates of the current year to be laid before us, and to state how much we rejoice to learn that, although the difficulties under which the commerce of this kingdom has laboured have in some degree affected a part of his Majesty's revenue, particularly in Ireland, yet that the revenue of Great Britain in the last year, although unaided by any new taxation, has been greater than was ever known in any preceding year; and to assure his Royal Highness that he may confidently rely on the zeal and loyalty of this House to afford his Majesty adequate supplies for the support of the great contest in which he is necessarily engaged:

"Humbly to convey to his Royal Highness our perfect conviction of the anxiety with which his Royal Highness wishes to be enabled to restore, unimpaired, into the hands of his Majesty the government of this kingdom; and most respectfully to assure his Royal Highness, that, with the deepest gratitude for the sentiments which he has been pleased to express, and the most perfect confidence in the wisdom and efficacy with which he will administer the Royal Authority during the continuance of his Majesty's indisposition, we most devoutly join with his Royal Highness in praying that the Almighty may be pleased in his mercy, to accelerate the termination of a calamity so deeply lamented by the whole nation, and so peculiarly afflicting to his Royal Highness himself."

rose, and, in a maiden speech, seconded the Address. He fully concurred in all the statements and sentiments which his honourable friend who preceeded him, had so ably set forth: in none, however, did he more cordially coincide, than in the just claim to the confidence which the House and the country were called upon to repose in the eminent virtues and accomplishments of his royal highness the Prince of Wales. From that Speech which his Royal Highness had given his commands to be read to parliament, from the principles which it laid down, and from the hopes which the profession of such principles so fairly inspired, the House would draw an auspicious omen, not only of his immediate government, but of his future reign (hear! hear.) They would also doubtless do justice to those sentiments of filial reverence and affection in which the Prince Regent, with such perfect propriety of feeling, has regretted the afflicting cause which imposed such duties on himself; and to the fervent hope that by the speedy restoration of his Majesty's health, the necessity which imposed those duties would be removed. Such was his sense of the principles and the conduct of his Royal Highness, and he was sure that this expression of his individual feelings was but the echo of the public voice (hear! hear!) In the speech of his Royal Highness, the necessity of persevering in our exertions against France, was forcibly inculcated. It was a necessity self-evident, to be traced in the acts, decrees and whole conduct of the emperor of France. He waged war not for any of the common purposes of war,—not to receive satisfaction for supposed injuries,—not to recover territory to which any presumed right was set forth,—not to induce his antagonists to accede to any equitable terms of accommodation that might have been refused: No; his hostility was directed at our existence: the aim of his inveterate hatred and unintermitting machinations was to subvert and undermine all our establishments;—and therefore when he considered the motives by which that ruler was impelled, and applied those motives to the impediments by which France was every day endeavouring to obstruct the commercial intercourse of this country and of the world; it was not because its ruler wished to cripple commerce in this country, or to ultimately acquire it for the nations of the continent subject to his sway, but, because it was his policy to put down, if possible, the spirit of freedom which sprung from and was nurtured by commercial intercourse—that spirit which the history of this kingdom proved to be most encouraged by commercial intercourse and greatness—a greatness which at one time raised the Hanseatic towns to a level with some of the most important powers of the continent, and the extinction and absence of which have now depressed them to the lowest department of France. Whilst these were the objects of our enemy, he could not understand upon what ground, without first repressing the power, and abating the pretensions of France, any man could entertain a rational hope of any durable peace with such a power.—Those who were inclined to take a fair unprejudiced view of the contest in the Peninsula must see many considerations in the fortitude and perseverance with which both Spaniards and Portuguese maintained it, many considerations which sternly recommended a firm perseverance in that wise policy which this country had acted upon since the commencement of that generous and glorious struggle. The reverses sustained by the Spaniards had neither damped their ardour, nor relaxed their exertions. When the French army over-ran Andalousia almost to the gates of Cadiz, and when the most sanguine well-wishers of the Spanish cause began to despair, their hopes were suddenly revived,—the duke of Albuquerque saved Cadiz, and the French were repulsed.—Buonaparté had essayed all the arts of his policy—gentleness and severity were used in their turn, and equally without effect. Nothing could unbend the resolution or crush the spirit of the Spanish people. If such were the effects of that magnanimous zeal which first prompted that gallant nation indignantly to spurn the yoke of a foreign despot, what might not be expected from her future efforts, now that she had the best incentive to exert, and the most gratifying recompence, to reward them, namely a constitution according to law. (hear! hear!) The Cortes has been assembled and possessed the confidence of the nation. Thus was the spirit of freedom now embodied in a representative government, and directed by deliberate wisdom; nor could the attitude which the great council of the Spanish nation now presented, fail to remind him of the ancient Roman senate, who sat in the calmness and majesty of national deliberation, while the enemy were at the very gates of Rome. The enthusiastic patriotism of the Spaniards was every where in activity. The most valuable maritime provinces of Spain, Murcia, Gallicia, and Valencia, were, with their own population, able to keep in awe the regular armies of France; whilst the interior of the country, and even the palace of the usurper, at Madrid, has not been safe from the incursion and attack of its various bodies of partizans.

But he had now to point the attention of the House to that part of the Peninsula where the efforts of the British arms were more particularly exerted. And when the detail of our operations in Portugal was to be considered, it would be necessary to review them with relation to those of France; and to the menaces and promises in which the enemy had at different times so vainly and vauntingly indulged. The House must recollect that, according to the proclamations of the French generals, the French army was to have expelled the British force from Portugal, and to be in possession of Lisbon before the present time; such were their promises and predictions. How have they been fulfilled? In the month of July last, Marshal Massena crossed the Coa; yet on the 26th January, he was still fifty leagues from Lisbon. The march from the Coa to the lines in front of Lisbon, which was merely to have paraded the imperial eagles through the country, took up from the month of July to October. On his arrival, did he attack these lines; did he fulfil any of his promises or threats? Were the British army forced to retreat? did he drive them into the sea? No: in place of realizing any of his idle menaces; instead of any bold attempt to redeem his pledge, he availed himself of a midnight retreat, closely followed, however, by that army which he was to have expelled, and which has since blocked him up for the space of two months in his new fortified position at Santarem. It might perhaps be considered as indelicate in him to expatiate on the merits of the commander in chief (lord Wellington) under whose auspices these operations had been so ably conducted, whose conduct and character as an officer and a relative must ever be with him an object of affection and admiration. But surely it would not be deemed an exaggeration of paneygeric to say, that lord Wellington had at least conducted the campaign without any disgrace to the British arms, or any disadvantage to the cause in which they were employed. That he had kept in check in a kingdom small in geographical extent, and little abundant in resources, a French force for a longer period of time than had been enough for other armies of the enemy to overthrow some of the greatest military powers of the continent. (Hear! hear!) That whenever he has been engaged he has uniformly defeated hisenemy—that whilst the army which he has the honour to command reposes in him its unlimited confidence, the enemy with whom he has to contend illustrate by their caution the conviction they entertain of his talents and character. The true merits of military genius are best appreciated by those whose province it will be to review the events of these times for the instruction of posterity, and he (Mr. W.) had no apprehension but that history would confirm the decision of lord Wellington's contemporaries. (Hear, hear!)

The House would no doubt attentively consider that part of the Speech of his Royal Highness which so truly stated it to be the interest of this country to persevere in assisting the Spanish cause. Now that the balance of power, so long the object of political controversy and military strife, was destroyed by the overwhelming despotism of France, was it not of the greatest importance to Great Britain to secure some counterpoise to that enormous power and influence possessed by France on the continent? and what more effectual counterpoise were we now likely to obtain, than the alliance of a people closely bordering upon France, and animated by the most deadly hate towards their oppressors, while to this country they were bound by principle and prejudice; by the recollection of ancient treaties; and by the experience of recent benefits.

As to America, there was every probability of a speedy adjustment of our differences with that country, without a relinquishment of that maritime pre-eminence which it would be criminal to surrender, and which consequently would never be made the price of that adjustment.—If there was nothing in the aspect of our foreign affairs to excite despondency or despair, neither was there in that of our domestic situation. If there had been some failures from mercantile speculation, these were scarcely more than were incidental to the spirit and enterprise of British commerce: and when the House would recollect the heavy calamities of 1796 and 1797, and yet how rapidly public credit rose, and public opulence recovered from the misfortune of the time, they would feel the fullest confidence, that the late failures would not be felt by the commercial interest of England. Let the British merchant learn to bear the calamities which pressed upon him, when he saw how much more heavily they pressed upon the enemy; when he saw the restrictions on commerce producing not only an ill-will, but a resistance, which in no long time might force the abolition of the anti-commercial decrees.

The hon. gentleman said, he had now to thank the House for the kind attention with which they had favoured him; nor would he trespass longer in their patience than while he added, that the character of the prince Regent, the complexion of the times, and the spirit of that House seemed to justify him calling for an unanimous vote in favour of the address which he had the honour of seconding.

said, that in all that had been said by the hon. gent. who moved the Address, and in all that had been said, with so much eloquence, by the hon. gent. who seconded that address, relative to the character and conduct of his royal highness the Prince Regent, so far did he cordially agree with them. There was no tribute of applause too high, in his opinion, to mark the conduct of the Prince in so trying a situation; and he thought it was the bounden duty of that House, to give to his Royal Highness the most effectual and efficient support in discharging the duties of his painful situation. Whenever the servants of the crown should submit to that House measures of which he should think it his duty to approve, to all such measures he would be most happy to give his cordial assent; but if; on the other hand, any question should occur in which he should feel himself bound to oppose the mode of carrying on the Regent's government, he should give that opposition with the deepest pain and regret. He did not rise then for the purpose of making any formal opposition to the Address; so far from it, there were many parts of it, respecting which he entirely concurred with what had fallen from the hon. gentlemen who preceeded him; neither did he wish to draw forth a debate upon any of the points on which he differed from those gentlemen; but of those points in which he concurred with them there was none in which he more cordially agreed than in that respecting our relations with America. He received, with the warmest satisfaction, the declaration of the disposition of ministers to conciliate the United States of America.—With respect to the affairs of Spain and Portugal, he should say but little, anxious at the same time that that little should not be misunderstood: it was simply, that the Speech appeared to him to imply an entire approbation of the conduct of our affairs in the Peninsula, which unqualified approbation he was by no means then prepared to give; but neither was he disposed to express his decided disapprobation. He waited for fuller information before he could give so decided an opinion as the Speech seemed to him to call for. It was his anxious wish to avoid saying any thing that could be painful to those present, still less to those who could not hear his statement; but it was necessary for all persons to disengage their minds of every prejudice on this subject. It could not be denied that there were many hopes fondly indulged in at the commencement of that struggle, which had not since been realized; but this he should not now go into. The gentleman who went before him had evinced a disposition to avoid all subjects that could lead to distention. He applauded the example they had set, and should now follow it, abstaining from all further observations, except that of asserting his right of excepting himself from any general conclusion which might be drawn of his entire approbation of the management of our affairs in the Peninsula, and declaring that he was, notwithstanding his not then opposing the Address, free to observe upon them at any future period of the session.

said, that it was not his intention to take up much of the time of the House; but there were one or two topics on which he would slightly touch, before he sat down. He was ready to give the Prince Regent credit for the best intentions; but it was to be greatly lamented, that he was placed in such a si- tuation as his present one. At the end of three months debate and discussion, the country was left without the constitution of England. He could have wished, that the Prince had not accepted his present situation. His not meeting the House on this day, was a proof of his dissatisfaction at the conditions upon which he held the Regency. After raising one phantom, we had raised another, and called it a Regent; we had made a governor without entrusting to him the power of government.—He must further observe, with a view to reprobate a practice which had crept in only within these few years, and that was, not acquainting the members of the House generally with the substance of the Speech, before they were called on for their votes upon it. As the practise was now, they were called on suddenly to give their votes on the whole mass of the Address, containing, as it did, topics of the most various and highest importance. No good reason could be assigned for this deviation from the ancient mode. It was not his intention to proceed at that moment, under such circumstances, to consider the Address. He should feel it his duty to move for an adjournment until to-morrow, for the express purpose of taking time to consider the subject. He would not, however, press the motion, if it did not appear to meet the approbation of the House. The not meeting the Regent to day, was to him an evident proof of his dissatisfaction with the ministry who had been forced upon him. The Regent would not appear in public with them. He would not be seen by the House in company with them. This resembled the ludicrous scene in the play, where Falstaff musters his recruits, and finds upon inspecting them that they are such ragamuffins, such a pitiful scarecrow set, that he would never march through Coventry at the head of them. The hon. baronet then said, that he was called on for his vote without having had time for consideration; and concluded by moving, That the House should adjourn until to-morrow.

agreed with the mover and seconder of the Address, that there were many points in it on which the House might fairly be called on for an unanimous vote; but there were also some on which most mature consideration would be proper and necessary. From the manner in which the speech had been brought before them, no time was allowed for examining ifs topics, and upon the Address, there- fore, he could not give the only vote he ever wished to give, a conscientious vote, on such short consideration. As to the parts of the Speech which related to Sicily and Portugal, he had no hesitation in saying, that it was on the part of the French the most lagging war which they had carried on since 1805; that terrible year, when despair first seized upon Europe. Their late progress had been slow, but what was the reason? In the four first years after the calamitous period of 1805 they had subverted the four great empires of the continent. It was this that made their conquests now few and slow. They had made but few conquests in the last campaign; but it was because so much less was left to conquer. He concluded, by expressing an earnest wish, that as the ensuing session was not likely to be spent in inquiries into the causes of any great national disaster, as there was not any domestic question likely to occupy their feelings and attention in the manner in which they had so lately been occupied, the House would set themselves seriously work and diligently attend to the concerns of the country: but that above all they would see the necessity of pursuing a system of the strictest economy. He trusted that the estimates would be laid upon the table as soon as possible, and that the fullest and fairest opportunity would be given for weighing and considering every item of them. All parties, in and out of that House were unanimous as to the necessity of economy in the public expenditure; and he trusted, that the best means would be resorted to without delay, for the purpose of effecting an object so desirable.

, without any intention of entering at length into the topics contained in the Address, wished to observe, that neither the Address, nor the speeches of the honourable mover and seconder, had given an accurate statement of the situation of the country. The state of Ireland had been totally omitted. He had hoped that now at least the ministers would have relaxed the system of silence on the subject of Ireland, which they had maintained ever since they came into office. They were quite callous; their senses appeared perfectly benumbed; they did not appear at all to be aware of the state of that country. But if ever there was a subject which deserved the utmost anxiety and attention, night and day, it was the condition of Ireland at this moment. He could not consider that subject without a deep sense of the dangers in that quarter, without a degree of alarm which he could hardly find words to express. Yet nothing had been said on this momentous topic! He thought, that as a mark of common respect to the people of that country, the affairs of Ireland ought not to have been passed without notice.

expressed his strongest dissent with regard to that part of the Address which referred to the transactions in the Peninsula; but most heartily concurred in what had been said respecting the Prince Regent. He entertained the highest veneration for his person, his principles, and his conduct, and above all for his constitutional knowledge and opinions.

The question was then put upon the Address, which was agreed to.

replied, that he had no such intention.

then gave notice that he should take an early opportunity of bringing the matter under the consideration of the House; and added that he felt it right, under the present circumstances, to give this early notice of his intention.

rose merely to ask a question Upon a subject which he found stated in the public prints. He should not take upon him to say, that his information was correct; but if not he would be in the correction of a right. hon gent. (Mr. Canning) wham he had seen in his place that night. The subject, upon which he wished to be informed, was, as to the case of an individual, a foreigner, who, if he was correctly informed, had been confined for now nearly two years in Cold Bath-Field's prison, in solitary confinement, and debarred of the use of pen, ink, paper, and books. The circumstances of his imprisonment were these:—This man, a Portuguese officer, by name Colville, had in the year 1809, while Lord George Stuart was cruizing off Cuxhaven, been invited on board his lordship's vessel to dinner, and after dinner was arrested by virtue of a secretary of state's warrant, signed George Canning. The man was sent prisoner to Heligoland, where he was confined in a dungeon for a fortnight, and afterwards brought to England, and committed to Cold-Bath-Fields Prison, where he had since been confined under the circumstances which he had already stated. He wished therefore to know whether the case of this individual was such as he had represented it, and what were the grounds for the treatment he had received?

, not knowing to whom the question of the hon. baronet was addressed, yet, as it referred to a transaction, in which an officer of the profession connected with his department was concerned, he felt it necessary to say, that so far as he was himself concerned, he knew nothing of the matter; he could, however, assure the hon. baronet, that inquiry should be made into the transaction.

observed, that as the hon. baronet had alluded personally to a right hon. gent. and stated himself to be under his correction, it would have been quite as well if the hon. baronet, when that right hon. gent. had quitted his place, had deferred his question till he should be again in his place.

had no wish to press the question in this instance. Having seen the right hon. gent. in his place, he had supposed he might still be in the House. He should take another opportunity of repeating his question, and in the mean time he hoped that the necessary inquiries would be made.