thought, with reference to the important subject which was to engage the attention of the House that day, that it would have been better to have postponed the second reading of this Bill. He would very shortly state his reasons for opposing it. Nothing was more painful than to resist the claims of a meritorious individual; yet, on reflection, he was more and more convinced, and confirmed in the opinion of Mr. Pitt, which had been acted upon since, that to listen to demands like the present, would be to encourage unfounded claims. The question was, whether Mr. Palmer had not, by his misconduct in carrying on a secret correspondence, forfeited his rights; and, in that view of the case, whether 3,000l. a year was not as great a compensation, as he could reasonably look to for its services?

thought that the honour of the House, and therefore, the honour of the country, was involved in the present ques- tion. The right hon. gentleman who now opposed the Bill as well as several other gentlemen of that side of the House, had consented to go into committee, and had consented therein to the present Bill. No claim ever came before the public with juster pretensions; though, from technical reasons it was not easy to gain any advantage from going to law. The right hon. gentleman talked of compassion: he could only say, that had it been a case between individuals, the remedy would have been easy; but there was no remedy but the justice of parliament against a minister of the crown.

said, the hon. baronet had rightly called the business a bargain, but it was not such a one as he stated it to be. Mr. Palmer undertook to perform certain duties, and to further the plan which he had himself introduced: on the contrary he had acted in such a manner as to make it necessary to turn him out. Mr. Pitt, who was a party to the original agreement, had felt it his duty to resist the claims of Mr. Palmer; not that there was any objection raised to a reasonable compensation, but because he was of opinion, that if the agreement was relied upon, which agreement had been infringed, nothing was due to Mr. Palmer of right.

hoped that the Bill would be postponed till another day.

understood it had been agreed that the discussion should take place that day, and on that understanding he had given notice to the supporters of the Bill.

contended, that there never was a case less entitled to public favour than the present. Mr. Palmer had finally accepted of office on condition of performing the duties of it. The emoluments of that office were to be his only remuneration; and even supposing that he had been improperly removed from that office, the utmost he could ask, or was entitled to, was, that he should be paid the emoluments of that office during the time he had been deprived of it.

said his hon. and learned friend talked as if the agreement in question had never been before the House, whereas, on the contrary, it had repeatedly been decided in favour of Mr. Palmer by great majorities. The most considerable law opinions of the day, too, had been in favour of the claim: when he mentioned those of lord Erskine, of the present chief justice of the court of Common Pleas, and of Mr. Adam, the House would agree that the claim of right was supported by no inconsiderable names.

thought the House was called on to support its own vote.

was of the same opinion.

begged gentlemen to recollect that the House had come to different votes on this subject. He had no objection, however, if Mr. Palmer had not been already sufficiently rewarded, that he should still receive a reasonable compensation. But he objected to the present claim, which was urged as a matter of right.

said, he should take the sense of the House on the measure in some future stage of the Bill.

begged that the sense of the House might be taken now.

said, not only the sense of the House, but of the country was with the present claim. The sense of the House was all around the hon. gentleman at this moment.

The Bill was then read a second time without a division, and ordered to be committed to-morrow.

rose and said:—Mr. Speaker; when you consider the extent and magnitude of the subject which I have undertaken this day to press upon the attention of the House, with the hope, that through their decision I may succeed in recommending it to the serious attention of the executive government;—when you recollect the various discussions which this subject has undergone, as well within these walls as in other places;—when you reflect on the anxiety which it keeps alive in one part of the United Kingdom,—an anxiety of which I am sorry to say, we have in the course of this very day received some strong and painful indications;^*—you may perhaps be led to apprehend that I shall find myself, obliged to trespass on your patience for a considerable length of time. In this apprehension, however, I hope the House will be disappointed; for, however wide the compass, and however complicated the details of this great question may be, yet the statement which I think it necessary to make of it, for the purpose of my present motion, rests on a few plain and simple principles.

^* The Resolutions passed at the aggregate meeting of the Roman Catholics, in Dublin, on Thursday June the 18th, which were received in London on the morning of Mr. Canning's motion.

If, Sir, I stood up here this day in the character of a partisan of those whose claims are involved in our decision, I confess I should feel myself under no small difficulty and embarrassment. The intelligence this day received from Ireland, which is probably within the knowledge of most gentlemen who hear me, might well perplex an advocate of the Catholics, and might not unnaturally be expected to disincline the House from listening to him with favour.

But in the view which I have always taken and continue to take of this subject, and which I am sanguine enough to hope that I may induce the House to take of it, the recent proceeding of the Catholic meeting in Dublin, appears to me only as one symptom of that habitual irritation of the public mind in Ireland, which is produced by the unsettled state of this question; and as one additional motive for recommending the immediate consideration of it in the only quarters, and in the only mode, by which it can be brought to a final and satisfactory adjustment.

The information of this day, therefore, so far from deterring me from the discussion, will only make me more anxious to treat it in such a manner, as may preclude all invidious topics, and all inflammatory language. It is not as in a struggle of conflicting parties, that I would ask the House to interfere. It is to a great state question that I wish to direct their attention: a question, enveloped indeed with many difficulties, and those difficulties certainly not diminished by the circumstances to which I have alluded; but neither ought such circumstances to weigh in any sober mind, as reasons for rejecting he motion which I have to offer to them; much rather should they induce us to lose no time in looking seriously and dispassionately at a question, which in my conscience I believe, must be settled, if we wish to give peace to the United Kingdom.

Not only would I endeavour to steer clear of every thing that has reference to the temporary irritation of the moment, but most gladly would I persuade the House, if possible, to lay out of its recollection all former debates and differences on this subject. If we could bring ourselves to consider this subject as if it were now presented to us for the first time,—to look at it with a fresh eye,—such a view, I really think, might be obtained of it, as would lead, unless I flatter myself unreasonably, to a pretty general acquiescence in the motion which I shall have the honour of proposing.

The principles, Sir, on which I rest that motion, and upon which the whole of this great question appears to me to rest, are these:

First, without subjecting myself to the suspicion of adopting any of those wild theories of abstract right, of rights of man, and rights of citizens, which have been afloat in the world for the last twenty years, I may assume as a general rule, that citizens of the same state, subjects living under the same government, are entitled, primê facie, to equal political rights and privileges. This, Sir, I say, is the general rule. Exceptions undoubtedly there are; but upon those who maintain the exceptions, lies the onus probandi—the showing that they are necessary, and therefore just. I am far from asserting at this moment, that necessary, and therefore just exceptions may not have existed,—I am not even asserting that they may not still exist, in the case of the Roman Catholics. I am only assuming the general rule to be that which I have stated; and throwing the burthen of the argument in favour of the exceptions, where in truth and in right reason it ought to lie.

The next principle which I assume is this—That it is at all times desirable to create and to maintain the strictest union, the most perfect identity of interest and of feeling among all the members of the same community. If this be desirable at all times, and in all countries, it will hardly be disputed that it must be more especially so to the British empire, in the present state of the war, and of the world;—when the greatest combination of hostile force of which ancient or modern history affords an example, is arrayed against us under a mighty conqueror, before whom state after state, and kingdom after kingdom, are falling in prostrate subjection; and who considers the subjugation of continental Europe only as the preface, and the means of our destruction. To this as a general rule it will not be contended, that there is in principle any exception;—it will not be contended that it can ever be wise and salutary to divide and dissipate instead of uniting the force, the faculties, and the affections of the people; to afford just grounds for dissension and discontent; to leave open some flaw or crevice in the solid body of the state, through which the machinations of the enemy may insinuate principles of disunion. But I am aware that it may be objected, that such an union, though desirable, is impracticable; that there are causes of complaint inevitable and irremovable, and differences which though they ought not to be fomented, yet cannot be healed. This may be so: but here again if the general principle be admitted, the burthen of proof is left with those who maintain that in a particular case it cannot be reduced into practice.

The third general principle, and that on which I most confidently anticipate an undivided coincidence of opinion, is—That where there exists, in any community, a great permanent cause of political discontent which agitates the minds of men, and has agitated them for many years past; and when experience has shown that, so far from having any tendency to subside and settle itself by mutual forbearance and accommodation, the contest only grows more fierce the longer it is protracted; mingles with all the disquietudes, and allies itself with all the real or imaginary grievances of the country; it becomes the duty of the supreme power of the state, whether residing in one or in many, whether king, or senate, or parliament, to take a question of such a nature into its own consideration; to make up its own mind upon it, and finally to determine in what mode it may be most advantageously set at rest. To this general rule, I am not aware of any exception; for I am not aware of any possible circumstances in which it must not be infinitely more dangerous to leave such a question unconsidered and uncontrolled, than to attempt the settlement of it; and I am not prepared to hear that the settlement of any question, however difficult and complicated, lies out of the province or beyond the competency of the collective wisdom and authority of the state.

These, Sir, are the principles which I take the liberty to assume as the foundation of the motion which I am about to submit to the House. But I am aware, that in examining any proposition, the object or tendency of which is to introduce change of any description in the constitutions of human society, there are two general considerations, clashing very much with each other, which naturally present themselves to every reflecting mind. The one, the most extensive, perhaps the most popular, is the dread of innovation:—the other, the expediency of timely reformation or concession. In reconciling these opposite and conflicting principles, and in assigning to each its due weight in human affairs, consists almost the whole art of practical policy.

They, Sir, who argue against any further concession to the Catholics on the ground of a dread of innovation, undertake a task of greater difficulty than, so far as I can judge from any discussion which I have yet heard upon this subject, they seem themselves to be aware. For this argument naturally implies the previous existence of some regular, fixed, and intelligible state of things, formed with deliberate wisdom, or perfected by frequent revision, and established by longs consent or beneficial experience; some system sealed and sanctioned by the acquiescence of successive generations. To innovate upon such a state of things, would indeed bespeak a culpable degree of rashness, and must throw upon the presumptuous innovator the duty of a most difficult justification. But, looking at the code of laws under which the Catholics have lived, and at the remains of that code under which they still live; I should be glad to ask those who stand upon long established usage,—who protest against being led astray from the ancient ways,—who will not launch into untried experiments,—I should be glad to ask them, at what period of our history they conceive that system upon which they are so fearful of encroaching, to have flourished in full perfection I ask what was its origin? On what design was it framed?—When did it receive the finishing hand; and become incorporated into the institutions of the country, an integral part of a blameless and perfect constitution?—Will they look back for this perfection to that period, when the corruptions and disorders of the Church first provoked that just enquiry and indignation, and gave rise to those discussions which convulsed Europe, which split the Christian world into contending sects, and ended in the establishment of the Reformation?—Great and manifold as are the blessings which the whole civilized world, and this nation in particular, have derived from the transactions of that time; indebted as we are to them for the substitution of a pure and perfect form of worship, in the place of a system of faith defiled with innumerable corruptions, and encumbered with superstitious usages; yet, can any one be so blind to fact as to contend, that the blessings which have been thus derived to us ought to recommend to our respect and imitation, the violences which accompanied their origin? It is the prerogative of providence to bring good out of evil. The lust and tyranny, the rapine and prodigality, of Henry 8, were instruments in the hand of heaven for bringing about the Reformation.—But are we therefore to look to the reign of Henry 8, for specimens of civil legislation?—A reign in which the conscience of the subject was made to conform, under bloody penalties, to every varying caprice of the judgment or passion of the sovereign,—in which, according to the historians of that period, "those who were for the Pope were hanged, and those against the Pope were burned?"—The same parliament, which, by the sanguinary law of the six articles, enabled the defender of the faith and head of the Church to exercise these indiscriminate and impartial severities in matter of religion, did not scruple to bow quite as low in matter of temporal policy; and surrendered into the monarch's hands the liberties of his people by giving to his proclamation the authority of law. It is not surely to such a reign, or to statutes passed by such parliaments, that we can be taught to refer for a pure specimen of British legislation, applicable to the times in which we live.

During the succeeding reign, these laws were repealed or suspended, and the Reformation was silently making progress and gaining strength. The horrible but cheries of queen Mary, while they curdle the blood, and make the soul sick in the contemplation of them, dispose us to look with an eye of peculiar favour upon her successor Elizabeth; and to fancy that the reign of that great and admirable princess was illustrated by the complete enjoyment of civil freedom, as well as by glory abroad and prosperity at home. Undoubtedly, the government of Elizabeth was conducted with a wisdom and success that covered the British empire with glory and prosperity. But it is surely not to that reign that the opponents of all change will refer us, as to the time at which the system which they wish to uphold was in a state that should have been preserved inviolate. In the latter years of that reign, a spirit of persecution arose, for which even her warmest admirers think it necessary to apologise. Bishop Burnet himself, in his History of the Reformation, quotes the testimony of Walsingham to this effect:—not denying the severities to which Elizabeth had recourse; but justifying them as necessary to the security of her crown, against the plots and conspiracies of the Pope and his adherents. Where is now the popish conspiracy against which the crown has to guard? Or are the enemies of innovation desirous only of adhering to queen Elizabeth's severities, but careless of her justification?

It is not to the reign of James 1, when the gunpowder treason naturally excited a horror of Papists, and forbade any relaxation of the laws in force against them,—it is not to the turbulent and unfortunate times of Charles 1, that we shall be taught to look back for a model for any part of our legislative system. If the troubles of Charles the first's time are to be connected with religious tenets, assuredly the Roman Catholic religion is not that to which we have to attribute the overthrow of the monarchy and of the Established Church. During the Protectorate, a regular system, not of coercion and penal law, not of confiscation merely, but of extirpation, was acted upon towards the Catholics of Ireland. In the reign of Charles 2, we find the establishment of the test, and the exclusion of the Roman Catholics of this country from parliament;—transactions, however, which must be coupled in our recollection with the special grounds of jealousy and alarm, which dictated and justified such precautions.

But the Revolution is the period to which we are desired to refer most particularly, as well for the laws against Roman Catholics as for the spirit in which they were framed, and in which we ought to maintain them. It is undoubtedly true that great restraints were at that period imposed upon the Catholics both in England and Ireland, as the consequence—and a just and legitimate consequence—of the intimate connection of the Catholic religion, at that time, with political doctrines hostile to the civil and religious establishments of this country, and with the interests of an exiled and abdicated sovereign. But neither would the policy of those times be necessarily just, when the connexion between the religious and political doctrines no longer subsisted; nor is it true that the penal and disabling statutes which were passed in Ireland immediately after the Revolution,—statutes which gleaned the refuse of the sword of the conqueror, and which are fairly to be considered rather as means of enforcing and ensuring the obedience of a conquered country, than as sound legislative enactments for the government of a kingdom in loyalty and peace,—it is not true, I say, that these statutes did in fact constitute the whole, or near the whole, of that code of penal laws, which we are called upon to preserve as the legacy of our forefathers, as the testament of our civil freedom. That code was not completed until a much later period. We must come down through the reigns of Anne, and of the two first princes of the House of Hanover, before we find the system brought to perfection.

The House will therefore observe, that it was not till the middle of the last century that this system of laws was really matured. In latter times the character of the enactments became less sanguinary, though hardly less severe. Under the furious and fanatical government of Cromwell, the active principle was that of absolute extermination. At the Revolution, a civil war and a contested crown naturally led to confiscations and proscriptions. Subsequently to the Revolution, and up to the period at which the last penal law was passed, the principle upon which the system has proceeded, has been calculated to stunt the growth, to destroy the moral energies, and to cramp the industry of the Irish Catholic population; to keep the mass of the people of Ireland, for such they may be called, in poverty and ignorance, for the purpose of ensuring their submission. That such a plan of policy should have been acted upon, nay avowed, by statesmen of splendid abilities and comprehensive minds, by ministers who served this their country with zeal and honour, and whose names are held in veneration among us, may be matter of curious and indignant speculation to the philosophical inquirer: but I think we want other arguments than a mere appeal to great names, to reconcile us to the adhering to such a system, or to induce us to regret that it has been abandoned.

Let us look at the state of the Catholic in the year 1760, at the accession of his present Majesty, when the system in Ireland had received the finishing hand, and before any remedial or alleviating measures had been applied to it. We find him cut off from all the relations of social life:—find the law interfering between the parent and child,—between the hus- band and the wife;—stimulating the wife to treachery against her husband—and the son to disobedience towards his parent;—establishing a line of separation in the nuptial bed, and offering an undivided inheritance as the tempting prize for filial disobedience. I am sure that no man will now venture to say, that this is a state in which, consistently with the spirit of British legislation, any class of his Majesty's subjects ought to be placed: yet this is the state to which those who admire the penal code in its perfection must refer: and it is to this state that we should return, if we were to reject as innovation, every amelioration that has been made in that code since the period of its maturity.

But it belongs to this system, in a degree beyond other systems of unnatural violence, that no sooner had it arrived at its maturity, than it began to decay. Other systems have had a period during which they grew, a period during which they flourished, and in which they flourished for some time before their vigour began to decline: but in this, ripeness and decay were nearly coincident. After the greater part of two centuries had been spent in bringing it to maturity, this code existed in perfection only about fourteen years. From the beginning of his present Majesty's reign, to the year 1774, when the first relaxing statute was enacted, is the short period during which it was at once complete and stationary. That therefore is the period at which those must look who would admire it in all the fulness of its glory. Every step taken in respect to it since 1774, has been in the spirit, so much deprecated, of irreverent innovation.

On what grounds have those several steps been taken? What is the justification of the parliaments of George 3, for having undone, piece by piece, the measures of his royal predecessors? What but this? That in every stage of our preceding history, not religious tenets, but political disaffection, was the cause of the severities against the Catholics; that the penal code was not intended to exclude the believers in transubstantiation, as a sect; but to repress, or disarm, or punish them as traitors or rebels. Such, as I have already said, was the defence which the apologists of Elizabeth thought necessary for the rigour of the latter years of her reign; such is the language of every penal statute since the Revolution; in none of which do we find the imputations against the religious creed of the Papists, dissociated from the charge of treason, or treasonable design. The preambles to these statutes recite, not that the Catholics are bigots, but that they are disloyal subjects. On this alone, the best constitutional writers, lawyers, and others, whose opinions are the most entitled to our reverence, have undertaken the defence of these harsh, though at some time, necessary laws. See how Mr. Justice Blackstone describes the nature and effect of the penal statutes against the Catholics:—"This is a short summary (says he) of the laws against the Papists, under three several classes of persons professing the Popish religion; Popish recusants, convict, and Popish priests; of which the president Montesquieu observes, that they are so rigorous, though not professedly of the sanguinary kind that they do all the hurt that can possibly be done in cold blood. But in answer to this, it may be observed, (what foreigners, who only judge from our statute book, are not fully apprised of,) that these laws are seldom exerted to their utmost rigour, and, indeed if they were, it would be very difficult to excuse them; for they are rather to be accounted for from their history, and the urgency of the times that produced them, than to be approved (upon a cool review), as a standing system of law."

The learned writer proceeds with some historical allusions to the events which, gave birth, successively, to the different parts of the penal code affecting Catholics, and then goes on to say—

"But if a time should ever arrive, and perhaps it is not very distant, when all fears of a Pretender shall have vanished, and the power and influence of the Pope shall become feeble, ridiculous and despicable," (Who but must think that the learned judge anticipated the moment in which I am now speaking?)—"not only in England, but in every kingdom of Europe; it probably would not then be amiss to review and soften these rigorous edicts, at least till the civil principles of the Roman Catholics called again upon the legislature to renew them; for it ought not to be left in the breast of every merciless bigot, to drag down the vengeance of these occasional laws upon inoffensive, though mistaken subjects, in opposition to the lenient inclinations of the civil magistrate, and to the destruction of every principle of toleration and religious liberty."

What, Sir, is the fair inference from these sentiments? That not the religious tenets of the Catholics, but their political opinions and attachments, operating upon their civil conduct, were the grounds of the penal statutes against them:—That not their religious differences from the Church of England, but their connection with foreign powers, and with interests politically hostile to the state, constituted the justification of the enactment of that code, and furnished the only apology that could be equitably urged for its continuance.

We have then to ask, if this be so, whether the relaxations which have actually taken place, in the latter part of the reign of his present Majesty, have been made in a spirit of just indulgence and political wisdom?—a proposition which, be it remembered, the clamourers against innovation are bound to controvert with all their might.

With a view to the solution of this question, it will be curious to trace the history of the relaxing statutes, and to as certain how far they have proceeded in conformity to the principle thus laid down by Mr. Justice Blackstone. A short examination of their preambles will be sufficient to show that the legislature uniformly had that principle in their contemplation; that they uniformly looked at the religious tenets of the Catholics, but as the signs and symbols of their political opinions. The first relaxation was by the Irish act of 1774, the preamble of which is as follows:

"Whereas many of his Majesty's subjects in this kingdom are desirous to testify their loyalty and allegiance to his Majesty, and their abhorrence of certain doctrines imputed to them, and to remove jealousies which hereby have for a length of time subsisted between them and others of his Majesty's loyal subjects, but upon account of their religious tenets are by the laws now in being prevented from giving public assurances of such allegiance, and of their real principles, and good will, and affection towards their fellow subjects," &c. &c. It then proceeds to describe that test, the taking which is to entitle the Catholics to be considered as good subjects.

Four years afterwards, in the year 1778, another relaxing statute sets out with the following declaration, as to the conduct of the Catholics:

"Whereas from their uniform peaceable behaviour for a long series of years, it appears reasonable and expedient to relax the same;" (the laws of Anne), "and it must tend not only to the cultivation and improvement of this kingdom, but to the prosperity and strength of all his Majesty's dominions, that his subjects of all denominations should enjoy the blessings of a free constitution, and should be bound to each other by mutual interest and mutual affection," &c. c.

Is not this a distinct legislative recognition of the capacity of a Catholic to become a good subject to a Protestant state, as well as of the principle, which I am desirous this day to recommend to the House, of identifying the allegiance, the interests, and the affections of both classes of his Majesty's subjects? Is not this a clear and indisputable acknowledgement on the part of the legislature, that such common interest and mutual affection are necessary, or mainly conducive at least, to the prosperity and strength of his Majesty's dominions?

Pursuing the same course, in four years after we find another statute, the preamble of which, referring to the statute of 1774, runs in these words:—"Whereas all such of his Majesty's subjects in this kingdom, of whatever persuasion, as have heretofore taken and subscribed, or shall hereafter take and subscribe, the oath of allegiance and declaration prescribed by an act passed in the 13th and 14th year of his present Majesty's reign, entitled an act to enable his Majesty's subjects, of whatever persuasion, to testify their allegiance to him, ought to be considered as good and loyal subjects to his Majesty, his crown, and government;" &c.

Here we have that quality and character assigned to the Catholics, the quality and character of "good and loyal subjects," which alone can be wanting to entitle men to participate in that free constitution which his Majesty's Protestant subjects enjoy; and the absence of which has been imputed, and is imputed still, by the few who still maintain the argument, as the single, but unchangeable ground of disability and exclusion.

The most recent of the relaxing statutes, is that well-known one of 1793, the preamble of which declares that—

"Various acts of parliament have been passed, imposing on his Majesty's subjects professing the Popish or Roman Catholic religion, many restraints and disabilities to which other subjects of this realm are not liable, and that from the peaceable and loyal demeanor of his Majesty's Popish or Roman Catholic subjects, it is fit that such restraints and disabilities shall be discontinued."

Upon this I need make no further comment, than that the principle plainly laid down, is notoriously not followed out by corresponding enactments; that many disabilities do still continue; and that the question which parliament has now to determine, is not whether these disabilities were originally right, but whether having been pronounced in principle wrong, the time is yet come when it is safe wholly to "discontinue" them. I beg not to be understood as intending to imply that more could properly have been done than was done in 1793: I merely mean to say, that the principle then laid down was wider than the practical consequences which were then drawn from it; that near twenty years have since elapsed; and that the question is therefore now not upon the principle itself (which was then settled), but upon the extension of its operation.

Again then I ask those who rail against innovation, who warn us against departing from the established usage, who tell us that we ought to adhere to the wisdom of our ancestors, who dread that we are now, as if for the first time, in danger of breaking in upon a wise and perfect system: when and where, and for how long that system existed in perfection? What is the prescriptive veneration, what the authority of usage and of opinion, due to a code of laws, which after a growth of near two centuries, remained only for 14 years in a state of maturity, and has been for half a century sinking into gradual decay? To what point of time, I again ask them, do they mean to refer, when they exhort us to adhere to the wisdom of our ancestors, and to avoid innovating upon the system which our ancestors had framed?

Let it not be supposed, however, that I mean to disparage our ancestors for the failure of their experiments in legislation upon this subject. Most true it is, that the government of Popish Ireland has been to this Protestant country a problem of infinite difficulty. It is true that the most enlightened statesmen have found—or thought—it impossible to apply to that country the same principles of rule upon which the legislation of this country has been conducted; and it must be confessed that the impediments which stood in their way, have been of no ordinary magnitude. It must be confessed that they had no pre- cedent to guide them; and if in the absence of such experience, nothing less than the extermination of the Catholic population of Ireland was considered at one time as consistent with the safety of the state, if afterwards it was attempted to grind down that population by statute; the harshness of such expedients must be attributed partly to the necessities, and partly to the temper, of the times in which they were tried. But it is not less true that both these expedients utterly failed. We may surely have become wise from the example of our ancestors, and may adopt or pursue a better course of experiments, after the trial and failure of theirs, without being supposed to cast blame upon them. We ought to make full allowance for the different genius of different ages. I leave to philosophers the problem, whether the human race upon the whole degenerates or improves; but this at least must be admitted to be a fact, whatever be its bearing, that in modern days a spirit of mildness and lenity has pervaded and influenced legislation, unknown to times more remote. An hon. and learned gent., who the other night brought under the consideration of the House, a subject of much commercial and national importance, I mean the Orders in Council, in his eloquent and able speech upon that occasion, introduced a remark which is not inapplicable to my present argument. He said, that in the treaty of Utrecht, on many other accounts the subject of violent condemnation, (more violent indeed than I think it really deserved), there was this blot, which was sufficient to damn it to all posterity,—that the chief commercial advantage which it secured to this country, was the Assiento contract, or a participation of the African slave trade. There cannot be a circumstance which more strikingly marks the progress of opinion, and the improvement of the human mind, within the space of one century. The reign of queen Anne has been justly styled the Augustan age of England. Nobody can impute to the statesmen of that period a deficiency in knowledge of the science of legislation. Nobody can deny that there were moral writers, at that time, eminently qualified to correct and purify the feelings, as well as the taste of their countrymen; to mark with the nicest discrimination, the boundaries of right and wrong; to be the guides of their own age, and the instructors of posterity. Yet at that time not a voice was lifted against the immorality, injustice, and inhumanity of the slave trade. Let any man suppose the possible case of a minister in the present day, standing up in parliament, with a treaty in his hand, similar to that of Utrecht, securing to Great Britain a regulated monopoly of the African slave trade, and on that, and no other ground, claiming the approbation and congratulations of parliament. Let him imagine how such a proposition would be this day received, even though supported by an appeal to the practice of our ancestors:—and thence let him be convinced of this plain fact, that, whether for better or for worse, the genius of the times is different; and that we may be permitted to legislate on some subjects in a different spirit.

The question, therefore, is not, whether we shall maintain the system which exists, for no system exists whole and unbroken; it is not (at least I hope it is not)—whether we shall recur to a system which formerly existed, but which we have partially abandoned:—it is, whether, having abandoned that system as altogether inefficient in politics, and unjustifiable in morals, we ought to be now contented with negative advantage, or whether we should not rather endeavour to give effectual operation and fair play to those other principles of which we have recognized the superior justness, and those other measures we have begun to adopt, but not thoroughly pursued.

We read, Sir, in the history of ancient Rome, that when one of the armies of the republic had fallen into the power of the enemy, and was surrounded by the Samnites at the Caudine Forks, the victorious general, desirous to make the most of the advantage which he had obtained, dispatched a message to his father, a senator celebrated for his wisdom, to counsel him as to the most expedient mode of disposing of his captives.—"Dismiss them un-ransomed and unmolested;" was the answer of the aged senator. This was a strain of generosity too high for the comprehension of the son. He re-dispatched his messenger to consult his oracle again. The answer then was: "Exterminate them to the last man." This advice was so unlike the former, that it excited a suspicion that the old man's intellects were deranged:—he was brought to the camp to explain the discordancy of his counsel.—"By my first advice," said he, "which was the best, I recommended to you to insure the everlasting gratitude of a powerful people;—by my second, which was the worst pointed out to you the policy of getting rid of a dangerous enemy. There is no third way. Tertium nullum consilium."—When asked, what if a middle course should be taken,—what if they should be dismissed unhurt, but if at the same time harsh laws should be imposed upon them as a conquered enemy? "Ista quidem sententia," said the old man," ea est, quæ neque amicos parat neque inimicos tollit." The son, however, unhappily for his country, thought himself wiser than his father;—the middle course was adopted;—he neither liberated the Romans, nor exterminated then; he passed their necks under the yoke, and sent them home.

Sir, in respect to Ireland, the severe, the exterminating counsel has been tried—and it has been found inefficient for its own purposes. We have adopted the principle of the more generous counsel; shall we halt in the pursuit of it, or try it fairly to its end?

I would have recommended the latter policy, even while Ireland was a separate kingdom. How much more safe as well as more desirable must it be, now, when she is inseparably united with this country!—The Protestants of Ireland were heretofore but as a garrison in the midst of a subdued country, obliged for their own safety to keep down the people among whom they were stationed. United now with the mass of the Protestants of England, they form part of the great majority of the inhabitants of the whole empire, instead of being a small minority in a detached fortress surrounded by overwhelming numbers. Formerly justice and prudence might point different ways; at present surely they are united, with the union of the kingdoms.

I imagine, that it will not be denied that such complete identification of Catholic and Protestant interests is desirable; it will be only contended that it is impossible. It is impossible, because, we are told, there is in the genius of the religious profession of the Catholics something which can never be reconciled to the government of a Protestant state?—there is in it a perfect faithlessness of principle towards other religious persuasions: a spirit of encroachment never at rest; a bigotry and spirit of persecution, which, if once let loose by indulgence, would make us speedily wish to retrace our steps, and to recall even the boons, which have already been lavished upon the Catholics.—I am no advocate or panegyrist of the Roman Catholic religion: but let these charges be tried by comparison with the history of the two last centuries. If the Catholic religion be of so encroaching a disposition, and so formidable in its encroachments, how happens it that it has lost one third of Europe, not one inch of which it has ever been able to regain?—The spirit of persecution may not be extinct. Nor is there any question, I trust, of arming it with power. But the proof of the continued existence of that spirit in the modern Catholic Church,—that proof at least which has been most frequently adduced in, the debates of this House,—is not, I think, so clear as it has been supposed to be. "Hæreticos persequar et expugnabo,"—is said to be still the doctrine of their Church, and to be incorporated in the solemn oath of their episcopal ordination. God forbid that I should say a word im palliation of so detestable a clause, if it be really to be construed literally, or as practically influencing their conduct. But they deny that sense, they disclaim and abjure it. They profess their entire abhorrence of it, and give it up to the execration of mankind.—Yes, but it is said, we ought to distrust their abjuration.—Let us be quite sure that such an example of distrust might not go farther than we might desire. In the oath taken by king William and queen Mary on becoming king and queen of Scotland, is the following clause, "We swear to root out all heretics and enemies to the true worship of God, that shall be convicted, by the true kirk of God, of the aforesaid crimes, out of our lands and empire of Scotland, &c." Are we ready to admit that William and Mary were pledged by this oath literally to exterminate all heretics with the sword?—Such an imputation, we know, would be most unjust. Yet it might be countenanced by citations from ancient Scottish acts of parliament, and from commentators upon the Scottish law,—in one of whom (Stewart of Purdevan), we find it asserted that "the severity of the laws against Papists will be further justified, if we consider that by the law of God idolaters were put to death; and agreeable thereto, Popish idolaters are to be punished with death—by the 104th Act of the 7th parliament of James 6th." How would such a passage be hailed, if quoted from the decrees of Lateran or Constance!—King William, however, we are told, remonstrated against the obligation to be imposed upon him by this clause of the oath. The commissioners quieted his conscience by leaving the words to his own construction. With this explanation he took the oath in his own sense of it, which meant we know not exactly what; but certainly no such thing as the words appear to imply. I do not urge this as a justification of the doctrine of the Popish Church: God forbid!—but, if we claim to ourselves the liberty of construing our own doctrines, it is perhaps somewhat hard to refuse the same privilege to others. It is hard to say, that when king William swore to "root out" heretics in Scotland, he was to be taken metaphorically: but, that when the Catholics swore 'persequiet expugnare' heretics in Ireland, they were to be taken as actually and literally entertaining that precise intention. It is hard to say, that king William did not mean any thing like extermination, but that the Catholics even at this time of day are prepared with the sword and the torch to spread their tenets through the world. It is farther to be observed, that though the oath taken by king William was never repealed till the union of the two crowns; that of the Catholics, so far at least as relates to the Irish Roman Catholic bishops, was repealed by the Pope in 1791.

But what trust can be reposed by a Protestant government in Roman Catholic subjects, considering that it is one acknowledged principle of their religion "never to keep faith with heretics?" The answer to this question is to be found in the whole series of relaxing statutes in their favour; in the oaths which these statutes prescribe to be taken by the Catholics. Oaths to be taken by men whom it is said no oaths can bind! oaths tendered to persons whose profession and creed is perjury! oaths of allegiance to a Protestant government exacted from those who are previously sworn to overturn it! It must be admitted that our practice is not very consistent with our theory: and if our theory be true, if the oath of a Catholic is really no security,—it is vain to deny that we ought at once to repeal all the statutes that have passed in favour of the Catholics. This is the vice or the force, be it which it may, of the whole of the reasoning drawn from the unalterable nature of the Roman Catholic religion. It is generally, and I believe truly understood, that a right hon. and learned gentleman whom I do not now see in the House, (Dr. Duigenan), was the framer of the last oath imposed upon the Irish Catholics; that of 1793. He, in common with those who contend that by the tenets of the Catholic Church oaths with Protestants are not binding upon Catholics, so far forgot the clear and inevitable consequence of this assumption, if true, as to exert his utmost industry and ingenuity in drawing up such a test as must, in his opinion, be binding on the most fugitive and volatile conscience. Surely all this labour was misapplied. Surely it was futile to forge chains of this sort for minds incapable of being restrained by any obligation. If such be the minds of the Catholics, where is the chance of their refusing, and what is the use of their taking any oath that could be tendered for their acceptance? I am afraid, Sir, that you must either give up your past policy to maintain your argument; or that, till human wit can devise some other bond for the consciences of men, you must be contented to rest on that very principle of good faith attested and confirmed by those very sanctions, the obligation of which upon the Catholics you are so forward to deny.

In the late debate on this important question, we were told by the right hon. doctor, (whose absence on the present occasion I deplore), that the Catholics ought to be quiet and contented; that they should make themselves satisfied with their condition in Ireland, by looking abroad and comparing their own lot with that of the people of the rest of Europe: by which they would see how much happier they are, or may be, under the limited franchise of which they are possessed, than the inhabitants of other countries, of whatever religious persuasions, are under their respective governments. Now, Sir, I have two objections to this advice. In the first place, I should not like to teach the Catholics to look abroad, if I could: secondly, I could not, if I would, prevent them from looking at home, and comparing and contrasting their situation with that of their fellow-subjects. It is natural that they should do this: and it is better that they should do it, rather than get a habit of indulging in any foreign speculations. Their feelings, their views, and their wishes should be bounded by the country which gave them birth, and the government under which they live. But, granting that they do look abroad, what do they see there to reconcile them to their own peculiar fate? If they look at the enemy, they will see all nations and tongues, and creeds, united under the same banner against us and our allies. If they look at those allies, at the emperor of Russia, for instance, (whom I may, perhaps, venture to class under that description, as in heart and principle he must be with us,) they will see the emperor of Russia marching to meet the congregated forces of his enemy, at the head of an army composed of different religions, and surrounded by ministers representing that diversity of creeds, by a Schismatic arch-chancellor, a Roman Catholic secretary, and a Protestant general. If they look at another great power of Europe, Austria, and if they advert to the circumstances of the late war in which she was engaged with France, they will recollect that in 1809, Buonaparté issued a proclamation to the Hungarians, inviting them to throw off the Austrian yoke, and offering them, amongst other things, the free exercise of their several forms of worship. To the Hungarians, however, this was no temptation; for in Hungary, a Roman Catholic establishment co-existing with a Greek hierarchy, amidst a Protestant population, does not prevent all the offices of the state, civil and military, from being open to the ambition of individuals of every class and religion. But the Catholics may perhaps be invited to direct their attention to Spain. In Spain, I am sorry to say, they may find in a recent public act something to countenance, though not to justify, the state of degradation in which they are kept at home: an act which, like some others of narrow and illiberal policy, has disappointed the hopes entertained by the friends of religious liberty, has in my opinion disgraced the Cortes from which it emanated. But in what country has this occurrence taken place? In a country notoriously the most bigoted in Europe, and the most blind in religious prejudices. Has this act been approved by us? We know how freely the conduct of Spain in other respects has been discussed in this country. Our government, we know, has, with all the freedom allowable to an ally, advised the rulers of Spain, in other particulars, to correct and enlarge their system of policy,—to ameliorate, for instance, the condition of their colonies, to place their commercial policy on true and sound principles. No doubt we have protested also against their late declaration of intolerance. In truth, Sir, we are pretty lavish in advice to others: and it may be lamented, perhaps, that we have not kept some of our counsel to guide our own policy at home. Perhaps Spain, when we have been recommending to her the practice of liberality and toleration, might have retorted upon us, not wholly without justice, and asked whether Ireland, adult and mature Ireland—Ireland, now a co-ordinate part of the United Kingdom, ought still to be governed on those principles, or on the remnant of those principles, which were applied, justly perhaps, in former times, to the population of a conquered state, or to an insignificant and rebellious colony.

Of the cruelties exercised against the first reformers by the ancient Church, then struggling for the maintenance of its authority, history speaks with just horror and indignation: but can any man now entertain a serious apprehension that it is necessary to be on our guard against their recurrence? Good God! Sir, what should we say if the early violences of the Reformation itself were to be arrayed against Protestants as a lasting and inexpiable reproach? if the outrages and extravagances of the Anabaptists of Munster,—the tyrannical caprices of Henry 8,—the severities of the latter part of the reign of Elizabeth,—the burning of Servetus by Calvin at Geneva,—the coarse and sacrilegious fury of John Knox and his followers, in Scotland,—nay, and the oath taken by king William himself,—were to be alleged as evidence that the several descriptions of reformed religion are necessarily and eternally of a violent and sanguinary character? We should object to such an inference as absurd and unjustifiable; and may not the Catholics of the present day protest in like manner against conclusions being drawn against them, from the crimes and cruelties, the perfidies and atrocities of those who held the same faith two hundred years ago?

I have been shocked at seeing exposed to sale, in the shop-windows of this metropolis, an address to the worst passions of the vulgar, entitled, "An awful Warning, or the Massacre of St. Bartholomew." Who the writer is I know not. It is not right to attribute bad motives to any man, but I am at a loss to conceive a good one for such a publication as this which I hold in my hand. Why publish such a narrative at the present moment? What purpose, what legitimate feeling can it be intended to gratify? What have the public now to do with Charles the Ninth and admiral Coligny? By what sentiment can any one feel himself called upon at this time of day to narrate that the Guises sprinkled themselves with the blood of their unfortunate victim, and that the duke d'Angouleme viewed his butchered corpse with emotions of delight? Why represent these horrid scenes to the eyes of the populace? What good can it do to recall the memory of them? If the torch of religious animosity could be re-kindled at the present moment, what would the effect be but to risk the safety of the British empire? This mischievous publication is illustrated by plates, to heighten the horrors of the narrative. In one is exhibited the assassination of Coligny, in another the duke d'Angouleme dipping his handkerchief in his blood. Does not this mode of illustration clearly show to what description of readers the publication is peculiarly addressed? upon what class of understandings it is intended to operate?

But neither are there wanting other indications of the same purpose; among these is the dedication. It is dedicated to the memory of that eminent and virtuous man whose loss in this House we are still deploring, and who, had he been alive, warm as he was in his resistance to the question now before the House, would as suredly have disdained and discountenanced such a mode of resisting it. The dedication is as follows:—"Sacred to the memory of the right hon. Spencer Perceval, prime minister of these realms, whose relative situation in respect of the established religion of the United Kingdom, was similar to that of De Coligny in France."—What does this mean? How was Mr. Perceval's situation with respect to the established religion of this kingdom, similar to that of De Coligny with respect to the established religion of France? So much for the accuracy of the fact. This circumstance is one which also clearly shows for what scale of intellect this writer calculated his publication. On human beings capable of investigation and discussion, he knew that he should make no impression; he therefore directed his efforts to infuriate the mob—not, I hope, in this day to be infuriated by such unhallowed means. The dedication proceeds, after this comparison between the situation of Mr. Perceval and that of the admiral De Coligny, to say that Mr. Perceval "fell like him a martyr, to his duty to his king, to his country, and to his God." History we know is sufficiently liable to misrepresentation and perversion; but so shameless an attempt as this, within one short month after the transaction to which it refers, I should think is not to be found in the records of historical falsification.

If, Sir, with a deep sense of a dispensation so awful and afflicting as that with which we have recently been visited, it may yet be permitted to us to render thanks to providence for having intermixed some qualification of mercy in its wrath; that gratitude is justly due, when we image to our minds the mischiefs that might have been occasioned, had the desperate wretch who committed this detested deed been either a Catholic or an Irishman. It is very possible that he might have been either, or both, and yet not have been influenced by any motive of religious fanaticism. But I appeal to the common sense of the House, whether, if, by accident, the assassin of Mr. Perceval had been born in the sister island, if by accident he had been a Roman Catholic (as in the paragraph I have just read to them is not asserted indeed, but with jesuitical ambiguity is more than insinuated); whether, I say, the same blind zeal which is manifested in this publication, would not in all probability have availed itself of that circumstance to stir up a furious and fanatical spirit, which might have laid both countries in blood?

Sir, when I first gave notice of the motion which I have this day brought forward, many weeks ago, it was my expectation that I should have to contend with my late lamented friend, as my most formidable antagonist upon it. I really wished for the opportunity of such a contest; I wished to see the side of the question which he espoused, arrayed in its most striking colours; I wished to hear all that could have been said upon it, and from him I should have heard it all; I wished for this contest for the sake of thorough discussion, and of arriving at the truth: but I anticipated it, God knows, with no feelings of hostility; I should have come to it with sentiments the very reverse of personal animosity; I should have argued the question with him in no other spirit, and with no other feelings, than

"If a brother, should a brother dare"

to the proof and exercise of arms. I know not who is to buckle on his armour, and to wield his weapons against me on this day. Would to God that he were here to wield them with his own hand! Would to God that the cause had the ad- vantage of his abilities, so that we had the advantage and delight of his presence! "Tuque tuis armis, nos te poteremur, Achille!"

Before I dismiss the publication to which I have alluded, I wish to notice a passage which appears to me conclusive as to the real object of the writer. It is the concluding paragraph of the work, and is couched in the following words: "A slight examination of the principal contemporary and other historians, will readily prove that the massacre must ever remain a blot in the annals of France and of Rome; may it also operate as an awful warning,—as the warning of St. Bartholomew, nay, even of heaven itself, to Protestants of this and every age, to convince posterity, but more especially the supine, we cannot say blind, of 1812, of the great truth, that Papists keep no faith with Protestants."

Can any man doubt what this means? or at least what feelings it tends to excite, what purposes it is calculated to encourage? This, Sir, is not the first time that the history of the massacre of St. Bartholomew has been so employed, in modern times. The author of this work might imagine that he was performing his duty to his country, by awakening the attention of the Protestant Church to the dangers with which, in his opinion, it was threatened. But example is not in his favour. In the early periods of the French revolution, a representation of the massacre of St. Bartholomew was brought on the theatre of Paris. Was that done with the view of mitigating the violent spirit of the Catholic church, of extinguishing religious animosities, of healing the grievances, or of reconciling the differences which distracted the country? Hear what Mr. Burke says upon this subject: "Your citizens of Paris," said Mr. Burke in his Letter to a Member of the National Assembly, "your citizens of Paris formerly had lent themselves as the ready instruments to slaughter the followers of Calvin at the infamous massacre of St. Bartholomew. What should we say to those who could think of retaliating on the Parisians of this day, the abominations and horrors of that time? It was but the other day that they caused this very massacre to be acted on the stage. They introduced the cardinal of Lorraine in his robes of function ordering general slaughter. Was this spectacle intended to make the Parisians abhor persecution and loath the effusion of blood? No! it was to teach them to persecute!" I will not say, that such must be the intentions of any man who represents such scenes as these at the present moment, and forces the record of such transactions upon the public eye. I will not say, such must be his deliberate intentions: but I must say, that the mistaken zeal and perverse ingenuity which such a publication displays, naturally subject him to observations such as these of Mr. Burke.

Sir, out of the contents of this work, which I have brought under your notice, no less than out of the intelligence which has this day arrived from Ireland, I collect additional motives for taking into consideration the situation of the Catholics, and for discussing their claims with that temper which their importance demands.

The mention of the name of Mr. Burke, and of that of my late right hon. friend, naturally suggest the consideration of the authorities by which the view that I take of the great question now before us, has been supported or opposed. No man can deem more highly than I do of the sagacity, the integrity, the force of my late right hon. friend's understanding; of the purity of his mind, the charity of his temper, and the unaffected piety by which he was so eminently distinguished. But, considering this, as I must always do, as a great state question, I hope I may be excused if I cannot put his authority in competition with the united authorities of so many great men who have preceded him; with the authority not of Mr. Burke alone, who, on this as well as on other subjects, outran with a prophetic celerity the progress of the public sentiment; and had arrived many years ago at that opinion in which I believe it may be said that the generality of the public are now agreed; not only of Mr. Fox, whose general love of liberty and whose ardent and hardy and uncompromising spirit naturally inclined him to extend to the widest range the limits of freedom and toleration; not only, I say, with the authorities of these great men—men who, being of a warm and sanguine temperament, might be subjected to the accusation of adopting too eagerly every proposition which tended towards the liberty of mankind: but to these are to be added the name of Mr. Windham, whose mind was cast in a different mould, whose disposition, so far from being rash and sanguine, inclined him rather to view every approach to an enlargement of popular privilege with jea- lousy, and to suspect all general propositions of fallacy and danger.—I must add also the great and venerable name of Mr. Pitt, whose generous philanthropy,—whose attachment to civil and religious liberty were as warm and sincere as those of any man that ever lived, but in whom those feelings were tempered and disciplined by early habits of business and long practical experience, which had taught him to examine specious theories with distrust, and to build his plans for the public good on sure and solid foundations. If then the question were to rest upon authority, I could have no apprehension as to the decision.

But to return to the argument;—it is the misfortune of all those topics, which are derived from the bloody history of earlier times, and from the alleged unchangeable nature of the Popish religion,—that if good for any thing, they are good for too much. They are good against what has already been done, as well as against that which it is proposed to do. The practical question now before us is, not what are the existing dangers from concessions already made? but whether or not those dangers will be increased, whether they may not even be removed, by further concessions? If I could be made to think that by taking one more step we should destroy our Protestant institutions, and establish in their stead a Roman Catholic hierarchy and a Roman Catholic ascendancy in Church and State, most undoubtedly I would stop where we are: but I maintain that this is the very point where the necessity of proof lies heaviest on those who contend against further concession. It is for them to show,—not the advantage and security which might have been derived from the continuance of the total disqualification of the Catholics;—not the absolute incompatibility of any concessions to the Catholics with the safety of the Protestant establishment; what they have to show is this, that the concessions already granted, are at once safe for the Protestant establishment, and calculated to satisfy the cravings which they are unquestionably calculated to excite in the Catholic mind; but, that a single step beyond the point at which we stand, is danger and destruction; that it is safe to fill the ranks of your army with Catholic soldiers and Catholic subalterns, but that a Catholic major-general would bring confusion upon your arms;—that the four courts of Dublin may swarm with Popish lawyers in stuff gowns, and law and justice flourish by their labours, but that if one of them had a gown of silk, he would infallibly overturn the whole frame of your legal constitution. They who are for retracing our steps, and recalling what we have, according to them, improvidently granted, are consistent and intelligible. But the present controversy lies between those who would go on with me, and those who see no danger in what we have given but yet would give no more. This is the point upon which illustration is required; this is the hinge on which the dispute turns. To this I hope that those who are this day to oppose my motion, will have the goodness to address themselves; for it is here that their argument labours, and wants a helping hand.

You say, you will not give to the Catholics political power; I say, you have given them political power: how wisely, I will not enquire—but you have given them the elective franchise. If the option were now to be argued, it would not be difficult (in my opinion) to show that the introduction of twenty or thirty Catholic gentlemen in this House would by no means operate such powerful political effects, as the letting loose to two or three hundred thousand of the Catholic population of Ireland the right of electing members of parliament. I do not mean to say, that I therefore impeach the wisdom of the decision which, in 1793, gave the preference to the one mode of concession over the other. I can easily understand the apprehension which might exist in a limited and local parliament, lest the Protestants should in time have been outnumbered by the admission of Catholic representatives. But, speaking of the parliament of the united empire as it is now constituted, I have little hesitation in saying, that the admission to seats among us of twenty or thirty Catholic gentlemen would be less dangerous, (if indeed the term dangerous be applicable to the subject, which I do not believe it to be,) than the boon, which has been already granted of the elective franchise to the large body of the Catholics.

What then is it that you have done towards reconciling the Protestants and Catholics? Resolving to introduce the Catholics partially at least into the bosom of the constitution, whom among them have you chosen to associate in the first instance with, yourselves? Those of them who were peculiarly distinguished for rank, for property, for talents?—those who, from their station and their character, are naturally looked up to as leaders of the body?—those with whom you are in the habit of mixing in every other place, and whose admission into this House, you would therefore hardly perceive?—those who, from their property and their rank, have a decided interest in the conservation of the present frame and system of society?—No such thing. All these you have rejected; and still continue to reject: while, on the principle of universal suffrage, or something very like it, you have admitted to a participation in the constitution—to political power—the great mass of the Catholic population, without distinction or selection. You adopt the peasantry, and reject the gentry.

With this choice, the next danger which is stated, appears to be somewhat inconsistent. The Catholic priesthood possess a great and alarming influence over the Catholic peasantry. True: and when had not a priesthood great influence over the mass of the people? And ought they not to have it, and more especially over a rude and uncultivated people? But what is it that has augmented this influence of the Catholic priests, if it be augmented, beyond its due proportion? What but their poverty, and still more in former times the persecution which they have undergone? In proportion as these causes are removed, the effects cease. The influence of the priests will always continue, and it is to be wished that it always should continue, adequate to the performance of their spiritual duties. Its salutary effects will not cease; but the obedience of their flocks will be divested by degrees of that blind and slavish principle from which so much danger is apprehended.

But, it is not the influence of the clergy alone, that is an object of apprehension. The great body of Irish Catholics are, it is said, in the hands of agitators, who wish to keep their discontents alive; who care not for the professed object of Catholic desire, but look to ulterior purposes of mischief—to separation and revolution. If this be so, we can only defeat the evil intentions of such men in two ways: either by correcting their disposition, or by taking away their means. The former is beyond human power. Let us avail ourselves of the latter. Let us remove those circumstances which, operating upon the feelings of the Catholics, render them fit instruments in the hands of agitators, for the promotion of such dangerous designs. I am inclined to believe, that there are those who have ulterior views and objects. Of those who are the most clamorous for coucession, there are some, I do believe, who would be most disappointed if that concession were granted. And next to the gratification which I should feel in tranquillizing a loyal and high-minded people, by the introduction of that equality of rights, without which there can be no reciprocal liking and confidence,—is that of disappointing the guilty hopes of those who delight not in tranquillity and concord, but in grievances and remonstrance; who use their sincere and warm-hearted countrymen as screens to their own ambitious purposes; and who consider a state of turbulence and discontent, as best suited to the ends which they have in view. That state it may be their wish to prolong, but so much the rather is it our interest and our duty to terminate it as speedily as possible.

But, what are the securities to be taken against the dangers of further concession? (for be it always remembered, that the question is further concession; it is not the introduction of a new principle, but the following up of one already established.) It has been lately stated in another place, that when the Catholics are called upon to show their securities, their answer is, "Show us your dangers;" and this has been complained of, as a saucy way of begging the question. Sir, it is a fair answer. I do not mean that it is absolutely and abstractedly an answer to the question proposed: but I say, it is a fair answer on the part of the Catholics. The Catholics see no danger; they deny the existence of any danger; and they therefore are the last persons who can be expected to devise securities. It is certainly the duty of the Catholic to submit to any provisions that the legislature may think necessary for that purpose: but it is not his business, nor can he be competent to suggest those securities himself. How can he provide against dangers of which he is not aware? How is he to fit that which he has no means of measuring?—It is the province of the legislature to say to the Catholic; "These are the dangers which we apprehend; and these the securities which we deem to be requisite for guarding against them." Let the boon be accompanied with the condition that is to make it safe to the given: and I feel con- fident, notwithstanding the delusion and irritation of the moment, that the Catholic will joyfully accept, and thankfully acknowledge it.

What may be the plan of securities to be annexed to concession, this is not the time to discuss. I know that we have to guard not against real dangers only, but against the imagination of dangers that may not exist. Of this imagination much, I hope and believe, is to be done away by previous discussion. I hope also that discussion may soften the temper of the Catholics, and prepare them to receive as they ought whatever may be tendered to them. But I am sure that to bring forward any specific plan at this moment, would be only to throw it wide for misapprehension and misrepresentation; for the fears of the timid, and the cavils of the disaffected; to be held up to obloquy and suspicion by those, whose object is not settlement but continued irritation. It is not at a moment of violence and clamour, that the voice of reason can be heard. But such violence and clamour, however they may disgust or dishearten us; however much they may increase the difficulties of the discussion, by increasing or creating distrust and indignation among the people of this country; or, however much they may damp one's hopes of an arrangement of mutual satisfaction and concord,—yet ought they not for a moment to interrupt the sober and straight-forward course of parliament.

Parliament would not legislate wisely, if it suffered itself to be swayed by clamour either way, by appeals to their fear on the one hand, or to their pride on the other. Nothing can be more erroneous for a government than to erect a disputed question into a point of honour. This may be necessary to the character of individuals, but it would be mischievous in administering the affairs of a great state. It is to the indulgence, during the American war, of such feelings as those which I now deprecate, that the disastrous result of that contest may in great measure be attributed. How much wiser would it have been in the parliament of that day, if they had not permitted any thing like pique and ill-humour to mix in their proceedings; if they had not treated the speeches of a few obnoxious individuals in America, or the clamours of a few popular meetings, as the deliberate voice of regular defiance, or grounded upon them acts of premature and decisive severity!

Let us be cautious how we permit the sayings and writings of unauthorised individuals, or the exaggerated declarations of tumultuous assemblies, to generate a feeling of impatience in this House, and to turn us from the grave consideration of a subject, involving the welfare and happiness of the kingdom. A few angry demagogues may declare, that they will bear of no arrangement,—will consent to no securities. And there are not wanting those on this side of the water, who will be glad to lay hold of this declaration, as a clear and authentic exposition of the general and deliberate feeling of the Catholics; and as a sufficient ground for putting an end, at once, to every attempt at considering a question, the result of which they say must be hopeless. I agree with neither the one nor the other of these parties. I cannot think the existence, if it were proved, of an irritated, and unruly, and unreasonable spirit on the part of the Catholics a sufficient ground for our leaving this question loose, to float upon the breath of popular opinion, and to be mixed with every ebullition of public discontent. Neither can I do the Catholics, on the other hand, so much injustice as to believe that they entertain and avow the design of disobedience to the law. Whatever is done in their favour, will be done by the enactment of parliament. By the same act which confers the boon, will be imposed the corresponding obligation, whatever it may be. To accept the one, and reject the other, will not be in the power of the Catholics. Be assured they will not attempt it. Be assured they have no such serious intention. They will accept your benefit; and they will obey your law. Listen therefore with dignified coolness and indulgence, equally unmoved either by anger or by fear, to the language of temporary disappointment and vexation: but do not set down the ungoverned effusions of the tongue, as the settled purpose of the heart.

At all events let us put ourselves in the right. If this question is unhappily to be a source of eternal disquiet to these nations, let it not be through our fault. Let us do our part to settle it in a manner conformable at once to justice and to policy: and if, after all our endeavours, such a settlement cannot be made, on their heads be the blame, who shall reject the good work, and disappoint the good intentions of the legislature! But I hope for better things.

A refusal by the Catholics to come into such arrangements as the fears, even of the liberal, of the wise, and of the just among their Protestant-fellow-subjects might require, would put them decidedly in the wrong. The very arguments that are now most strong in their behalf, would in that case be turned against themselves. The examples of other countries would then be used, not to show how much is un-necessarily withholden from the Catholics here, but to shew how unreasonable they are in their exactions. If in the great empire of Russia we see Catholics in office, if we see there a Catholic Church, and even an acknowledged Catholic episcopacy;—be it remembered, that this establishment exists without any dependance upon the Pope, except in matters of a merely spiritual nature. Even in France we see the Gallican Church secured at this moment, by the late Concordat, from undue subjection to the papal power. Consider then, how impossible it is that the Pope, under the present circumstances of Europe, even if restored to his dignity and independence, should recover his ancient authority, be looked to with that awe, or possess that influence in other countries which he formerly enjoyed.—Consider how much the progress of public opinion has mitigated the violence of religious dissentions.—Surely these are favourable circumstances for enabling us to unite with concession to the Catholics the indispensable condition of security to the Protestant Church; and it will be hard indeed, if in proportion as the obstacles diminish on the side of those who are to grant, they shall rise up and multiply on the side of those who solicit concession. I hope better things.

But, Sir, upon this part of the subject, I am unwilling to detain the House. It has already been ably and amply discussed in former debates, particularly by an hon. baronet (sir J. C. Hippisley,) from whose speeches and publications on these topics, I confess I have derived no small share of whatever information I have upon them. This only, I beg the House to believe, that it certainly is not from any doubt as to the practicability of framing adequate arrangements for combining the security of our Protestant establishments with the concession of what remains to be conceded to the Catholics, that I abstain from any detail at the present moment. I think it in the present instance sufficient for the House of Commons to declare their determination to take the whole question into their consideration early in the next session of parliament; defining only the great object we have thereby in view, namely, conciliation; and leaving the measure to be deliberated upon in the interval between the sessions, in order that it may be so modified, when it comes to be proposed next year, as to secure the attainment of all the objects which we have in contemplation. I have in my own mind, a tolerably clear conception of what, as it appears to my, might be the fit course to be taken, but my conception may be just or incorrect. It is a work, upon which the wisdom of parliament and the prudence of government must be exercised.

Sir, in framing the specific motion which I am about to submit to the House, I have followed and endeavoured to unite two precedents: the first, a precedent of the most auspicious nature—that of the message brought down to the House by Mr. Fox, in 1782, which led to the "final adjustment," as it was called, that gave to Ireland her political constitution: the other, no less auspicious—the Resolution of the year 1806, which produced the ultimate settlement of the so long agitated question of the slave trade. For eighteen years had my hon. friend (Mr. Wilberforce,) the able and indefatigable advocate for the abolition of the slave trade, laboured to his own immortal honour, but in vain. In 1806 Mr. Fox, then a minister, moved a Resolution that the House of Commons would early in the next session of parliament take the subject into consideration. This Resolution was agreed to; it was communicated to the House of Lords; and early in the next session of parliament, (although a dissolution had intervened), a Bill founded on that Resolution was brought in, and happily carried almost without opposition. I indulge a sanguine and earnest hope the motion with which I shall conclude, will be equally fortunate with the precedents on which it is framed.

It is true, as I have said, that when Mr. Fox moved the Resolution to which I have alluded, he was in power; and it was therefore to be inferred that the executive government of that day were through him made a party to the decision of the House of Commons. To supply in the present case that advantage, it will be necessary that, if my Resolution should be successful, (as I trust it will), it should be laid before the throne; in order that the executive government may be formally apprised of the intention of the House, and prepared to co-operate for its due execution. Upon the two precedents then which I have quoted, of which the one gave to Ireland her political constitution, and the other removed from the character of this country the foulest blot with which it was ever stained,—I have framed a Resolution which I now offer to the House—a Resolution which, if carried, will be equally conducive to the happiness, to the honour, and to the mutual good-will of Great Britain and Ireland.—I conjure the House to consider that if they do not take this question into their own hands, it will not be, it cannot be set at rest. Even if it were not altogether vain to suppose that it can be put aside, and kept quiet till we have more leisure upon our hands,—nay if it could be put out of sight or out of memory by a wish—still I should not hesitate (although others perhaps might) to bring a proposition which I am convinced is just and beneficial, under consideration. But to imagine that a question of this sort, affecting the interests and feelings of so large a population, can remain unagitated,—is to indulge a visionary hope, a hope unauthorised either by the particular circumstances of the case, or by the general course of human conduct. The difference is simply this:—if we leave it to be discussed out of doors, we know to what tongues and to what pens we commit the discussion; we know in what tone and with what temper it will be treated; we abdicate the functions of parliament and of government, and incur a deep and awful responsibility for consequences which it is better to imagine than to describe. On the other hand, the deliberate consideration of the question by this and the other House of Parliament, may lead—I trust will lead—to a result satisfactory to all parties interested in it, a result which will command their acquiescence, and tranquillize their agitation. The interference of parliament may be often wisely withholden in cases where the ferment of the people arises from temporary causes, and is therefore likely to subside of its own accord: but where the causes are permanent and deep seated, the time of interfering and the mode are the only points admitting of doubt. I trust the moment is not past at which our interference may be effectual; but, most sincerely do I think, that it ought not to be much longer delayed. We have already decided that no practical step is to be taken in this House this session. The knowledge of our intention to enter upon the subject early in the next, will, I hope, have the effect of procuring an interval of quiet and confidence: and, I trust, that interval may be well employed.

I conclude then, Sir, with moving:

"That this House will, early in the next session of parliament, take into its most serious consideration the state of the laws affecting his Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects in Great Britain and Ireland: with a view to such a final and conciliatory adjustment, as may be conducive to the peace and strength of the United Kingdom; to the stability of the Protestant establishment; and to the general satisfaction and concord of all classes of his Majesty's subjects."

One word, Sir, before you read the motion from the chair, on a point which I should be sorry to have left unexplained. I have not in the course of my argument adverted specifically to the condition of the Roman Catholics of England, as distinct from that of the Roman Catholics of Ireland. Their situation is, however, in many respects different; and the difference is greatly to the disadvantage of the English Catholics; while their exemplary conduct and distinguished loyalty entitle them to the most kind, partial consideration. But, they have themselves waved, this year, any separate application to parliament; they have been contented to abide the result of a general consideration of the question: and it is hardly necessary to say, that they must in justice be comprehended in any general measure of relief which parliament may hereafter think fit to sanction.

, considering the importance of this great question, could not give a silent vote upon it. He had always thought it his duty to support it to the best of his ability, whenever brought forward in parliament, except when submitted to the House by a noble lord (Morpeth), the member for Cumberland, in his motion on the general state of Ireland. He thought that motion ill timed, though he agreed with the noble lord in the justness and propriety of the principles which he supported; and considered him well entitled to the thanks of the Irish nation. He was then of opinion, that the question ought not to have been agitated till the Catholic petitions were presented to parliament; and to the Prince Regent, after the remo- val of the restrictions, in the hope that emancipation would be granted as a boon rather than as a legislative measure. It was expected that the first act of the Prince, after the removal of those restrictions, would be the concession of the Catholic claims. It was expected that he would then call able and liberal men, friends of the Catholics, to his councils; but the just hopes and expectations of the Catholics were disappointed. He deprecated, however, the imputations that were cast on the Prince, for the purpose of lessening him in public opinion. He was persuaded his Royal Highness had always been a friend to Ireland at the bottom of his heart; but his mind had been blinded and poisoned by evil counsellors, who were totally ignorant of the state of Ireland, and incapable of giving any proper advice respecting that country. The Catholics were a faithful and loyal people; and had been conspicuous in their attachment to the House of Hanover. During the rebellions of 1715 and 1745, the Irish Catholics remained tranquil. Although the object of that rebellion was to place a Popish monarch on the throne, the Catholics of Ireland remained steady in attachment to their Protestant king, and not a drop of blood from the veins of an Irish nobleman bedewed the scaffold. The rebellion of 1798 had been begun by the Irish Presbyterians; and the Catholics had only joined in it, when earl Fitzwilliam was recalled, and earl Camden sent in his stead, and all hopes of emancipation were at that time destroyed. The cup of hope was dashed from their parched and eager lips, and from that hour oppression and tyranny had been the order of the day in Ireland. The plan of the rebellion to which he had just alluded was so excellently laid, that it must have succeeded, had it not been for the death of a Protestant nobleman, whom they all knew; and but for which event Ireland would have been independent of this country. The disturbance in 1803 had been raised by two Protestant gentlemen, Emmet and Russel, who were executed for it. Why then were the Catholics so persecuted? In the other House of Parliament they fortunately had the support of an illustrious duke (Sussex), who made the best speech in their favour that ever he heard on the subject. The state of Ireland must, therefore, be known to the Prince Regent; and no doubt his Royal Highness would have granted their claims, had not his mind been poisoned by his ministers, who wanted to retain the monopoly of the Church and State, which they had enjoyed for these last twenty-five years, and by which some who came paupers into office, now lived in affluence and ease. How long would the people of England endure such criminal conduct? The earl of Liverpool had adopted the intolerant maxim, that the Catholic claims ought never to be conceded; so that this was merely a struggle between the people of Ireland, and the minister. He begged the House not to be the hirelings of those ministers, who deserved to be impeached for poisoning the Prince's mind with regard to the Irish Catholics. If he were able to impeach them he would do it; and if any one would move to impeach them his motion should not want a seconder. The House was not called upon to legislate for dark and barbarous ages, but for those who had spilled their best blood in our service: and what return would this country meet with, if we refused them their civil and religious liberties, and denied them their constitutional claims? Was this the reward of the army and navy of Ireland? Sooner or later they would bitterly complain of such cruel and barbarous treatment, which was enough to root up their very souls, and freeze their blood. For upwards of 650 years had this been our conduct towards Ireland; and as the House valued the happiness of the country, he called upon them to a stand that night; for gentlemen might believe him, when he told them that the ministers, when they found the people too much in earnest to be resisted, would leave the House in the lurch,—objects for scorn to "point his slow unmoving finger at." Was there not a point beyond which forbearance was a crime? and was there not a line of hardship, beyond which human nature was incapable of enduring? By a census lately taken, the population of Ireland was found to consist of upwards of 6,200,000 souls; and of these above 1,000,000 were between the ages of 17 and 40, fully capable of carrying arms, and the most hardy fellows on the face of the globe. With that force Ireland could overwhelm in the dust her feeble oppressors. He trusted the House would one and all vote for his amendment; and then this question would be for ever set at rest, and there would be everlasting peace between the two countries. He desired them to remember the words of the most illustrious statesman that ever sat within their walls, the late earl of Chatham, in 1766, when the province of Massachusetts was accused of rebellion, as Ireland was now—"I rejoice in the American resistance; and if she falls, she will fall like the strong man, embracing the pillars of the state, and pulling down the constitution with her." The obnoxious laws were repealed, and the state was contented: they were again resorted to, and America was lost. So it would be as to Ireland, unless the present obnoxious, weak, and odious ministers were changed. Who that contemplated the picture of the beneficial effects which the emancipation of the Catholics would confer, not only upon the comfort and security of Ireland, but upon its morality; and contemplated the growth of its freedom, industry, and ingenuity, and the whole train of advantages, national and individual which the measure would ensure, but must ardently wish for its consummation? The country held out its arms to embrace us: it invited us to its bosom—the invitation would not be repeated. He thanked God he had at all times opposed the present ministers; and if he had a son, he would swear him to the same enmity, like the father of Hannibal. He concluded by saying, that the word 'early' in his amendment, meant on Thursday next, whereas the right hon. gentleman's 'early' meant next session. The amendment was "that the House should take the Catholic claims into their early and immediate consideration, and go into a committee upon them on Thursday next," when the call of the House was fixed.

seconded the amendment.

did not intend to trouble the House at any great length, but was anxious to explain the vote he should give. He concurred in all the general principles of the right hon. gentleman, who was the author of the present motion; and lamented the intelligence which had been received that morning, of the resolutions of the aggregate meeting of the Catholics of Ireland, not as they regarded himself, but in as much as they animadverted upon several parts of the government in Ireland, with which he had the honour of being connected; and in the measures of which he concurred, under the sanction of the approbation of the House, and, he believed, of the country. It was his duty to abstain from considerations of a private nature; and putting out of the case the resolutions of the meeting alluded to, however numerous and respectable, to view the question in merely a political light, and to take that part in it, which he, in his conscience, should believe would benefit the Catholics. He had hitherto never taken any part in the debate on the Catholic claims, excepting when upon one occasion he was called upon to justify certain measures, he had then said a few words upon the general question; and he was in the recollection of the House, whether he did not state, that he was one who never had thought that the door should be shut against the Catholics, but that the concessions were not then safe, from the tone and temper which that sect had assumed. Perhaps their tone and temper might be equally, if not more harsh now; and the late meeting might have been as respectable and numerous as that of any former occasion, and more unanimous. On former occasions it might have been only the tone and temper of the Catholic committee, and thence propagated through Ireland; while, on this occasion, it might be the tone and temper of an aggregate meeting. He stated this against himself in candour and fairness; but still circumstances had changed, which, in his view of the question, made all these considerations of little weight against the present concession of the Catholic claims. Then, we did not know the opinion of the throne upon this question: now we had it authentically declared, that very high authorities had declared an opinion in favour of the Catholic claims—had pronounced it desirable to construct an administration upon the principle of taking these claims into its consideration, with a view to conciliation. It appeared also that all the great statesmen now living coincided in opinion, that some steps should be taken towards a final and conciliatory adjustment of the Catholic claims. Notwithstanding all the predictions, that the people of England would rise if the claims of the Catholics were favoured, he was happy to find that no such agitation had arisen; and he never thought it would. A considerable alteration had taken place in the public mind upon this subject; and in Ireland the concession was the universal wish of the Protestants. He had opportunities of knowing this in his official capacity; and so changed were they in their opinions, that he had received numerous letters, entreating him to persuade his late right hon. friend to take up the question with some definitive view towards a conciliatory adjustment of it. He always thought the time to consider this measure would come, and he was now for giving the Catholics every possible degree of privilege and liberty, consistent with the security of the Church and State. The only difficulty seemed to be to fix the quantum of the grant. There was no difficulty in making the grant, with all necessary guards. The whole might be granted, if it could be done with security. He agreed with a right hon. gentleman (Mr. Tierney), who said, on a former discussion of this question, that unless this measure were a cabinet one, it could not be a legislative one; and that if the concessions were made piece meal, they could not be made at all; and a circumstance had happened in Ireland, which afforded the strongest reason not to postpone the measure. The perversions of the subject in that country proved, that if the discussion were not confined to this House, it would effect the greatest mischiefs out of doors. His firm opinion was, (and that was his particular reason for agreeing with the right hon. gentleman's motion), that all the thinking people of the two countries expected that the government, (be they who they might,) should use all their energy, wisdom, information, and industry, to ascertain the bearing of all the Catholic laws, which could be repealed, and on what grounds they ought to be so repealed. Then the country would be satisfied to abide by the decision of the cabinet; and should the two Houses of Parliament agree, it would doubtless become, by next session, a cabinet measure. He had abstained from such discussion while he was an official man, whose duty it was to see the laws obeyed; and he should have preserved equal silence now, if he did not consider himself as having retired from his situation, which he now merely held at the convenience of the present government, in order to finish some business which he had begun, and consequently he had no duty which prevented the free declaration of these his opinions.

said, although he could not concur either in the motion of his right hon. friend who had opened the debate, or in the amendment which had been proposed by the hon. gentleman who followed him, still he thought it was not necessary to enter into any detail of the grounds and principles on which his opinions were formed, as he, in common with others, who felt as he did, had taken various opportunities of stating them in that place. If this question had not been the subject of protracted discussion, he, for one, would have been more ready to agree to the proposition of his right hon. friend because, in that case, there might be some hope that the Roman Catholics would have confined their claims within those bounds, to which the House now knew they would not confine them; and they also might have expected, that those safeguards and securities, which the situation of the country demanded, would have been offered. But, after what had passed, could it be concealed from the Roman Catholics—could it be concealed from the Protestants—could it be concealed from the Dissenters—could it be concealed from the country at large—nay, did not his right hon. friend himself assert the fact, that no system of conciliation would be effectual, without an equal right to a share of power with his Protestant fellow subject were granted to the Roman Catholic? How could he concur in this motion, with the hope of setting the question at rest, unless, in the course of a few short months, when the pledge contained in it was to be redeemed, he could meet the claims of the Catholics, ready to place them on a full footing with their Protestant brethren, in respect to political power?—How, otherwise, could he be able to entertain that discussion, which the motion went to adjourn, with the smallest hope that it would then be finally and conclusively terminated, giving stability to the empire, and introducing general concord and satisfaction amongst all classes of subjects? He had no hope that the conduct of the Catholics would be such as to cause a change in his sentiments—and, hang none, he would not, by supporting the motion, be instrumental in holding out a delusion. He hoped the time would come, when the Roman Catholics would emancipate themselves from a foreign spiritual domination—then, he conceived every disability ought and would be done away, and he would be most willing to assist in carrying the necessary measures into effect. But, while the Pope exerted an influence over the bishops—while the bishops exerted an influence over the priesthood—and while the priesthood, in their turn, exerted an influence over the great body of the people, he did not think it safe to grant the required immunities. The power possessed by the Pope, did not, as some gentlemen had contended, extend only to mere speculative principles. The rights of marriage, of legitimacy, and a variety of others were affected by it. And that power was supported by excommunication, in which the civil rights of every individual subjected to it were involved. So long as the Roman Catholic had not freed himself from that foreign and hostile authority, the Protestant religion in Ireland, in the event of conceding to him that which he demanded, could not be safe—nor, looking at the subject in an extended view, could the Protestant establishment in this country. He meant only to enter his protest against the motion; but from what he knew, not of the feelings of individuals in that House, but of the sentiments of the great bulk and mass of the people of this country, he was convinced, that the Resolution of his right hon. friend would not answer the intended purpose. It would not create unanimity—it would not answer the feelings entertained by one side or the other; on the contrary, it would occasion great discord. Whatever other persons might think on the subject, he felt it his duty to oppose the motion.

said, he had always hitherto opposed the opinions of the right hon. gent. who had just spoken, and he saw no reason for varying from his usual practice on the present occasion. The right hon. gent. had observed, that, when the Roman Catholics had emancipated themselves from their spiritual connection with the Pope, he would then willingly concur in their civil emancipation; that is, when they had become good Protestants, when they were no longer affected by the laws enacted against them in your statute-book, at that period their disabilities might safely be done away. Having often voted for the total repeal of those disabilities, he was ready to go the full length of the right hon. gentleman's motion. And, on the other hand, if such should be the prevailing sense of the House, he would willingly concur in the amendment of his gallant friend. The laws which supported the Protestant establishment, passed long before those statutes of exclusion; and, by repealing the latter, the former would not be affected; but if it were the general opinion, that, to decide properly on the subject, a digest of those laws was required, and that a regular plan should be formed, he felt no objection to coincide in the proposition; and he was sure his gallant friend would not press his amendment, if he thought it likely to operate unfavourably to the great cause. The danger which seemed to be apprehended, arose from the supposed influence of the Pope over the Catholic priesthood, and their influence over the laity. These points were undoubtedly interesting, but, in this country, people were extremely ignorant on them. Now, the truth was, that the authority of the Pope in Ireland went to no one practical point whatever. His power no more affected the Roman Catholics, than the power of monition, possessed by the clergy of the Established Church, did the Protestants of this country. But if it were allowed that the priesthood did enjoy a great power, it ought to be shewn that they could exercise it to an evil purpose. He knew the sentiments and feelings of the great body of the Catholics, and he was convinced, that, if their clergy attempted to exercise their authority for any political purpose, the very effort would degrade their character, and lessen their power. He was one of those who did not wish to interfere with the power of the clergy; and he thought that the interference of the state with the church to which he belonged had not been attended with any benefit to religion. He was convinced that any interference of the temporal power of the state with the clergy, served only to alienate them from the government. The only security which ever had been distinctly mentioned, was a Veto to be vested in the crown. He took the liberty, at the time it was proposed, of stating the impracticability of effecting that measure. The Catholics did resist it, and he was glad they did. He hoped they would always resist any measure which went to alter the fundamental principles of their Church. While he deprecated the delay of the enquiry to another session, if it could be avoided, he also thought, that placing the detail and arrangement in the hands of the present government was full of suspicion and apprehension, and would probably occasion the failure of the whole business. Looking to their ignorance of the situation of Ireland, and of the interests of the Catholic body, it was wholly impossible that they could, in the next session, bring forward a measure which would conciliate and relieve the Catholics; on the contrary, he believed they would create fresh difficulties. The tran- quillity of the Roman Catholic body at present, arose from the growing disposition manifested by the people of this country, speedily to concede their claims; but, if a different feeling were manifested, he should immediately expect the worst consequences. He did not say this in the way of menace, but to call the attention of the government more forcibly to the subject. Not only should they be anxious as to the matter of their arrangement, but also as to the temper in which it was drawn up and offered. While he said this, he also thought the concession should be made by an administration possessing the confidence of the people; but here it must be allowed, it would come from rather a suspicious quarter. A right hon. gentleman (Mr. Pole) in speaking of the recent resolutions agreed to at an aggregate meeting of the Roman Catholics, had stated, that they were false in their facts. If he alluded, as he supposed he did, when he spoke of some of the assertions as being hostile to himself, to that part in which the Catholics speak of "the arrogant invasion of the undoubted right of petitioning, and the acrimony of illegal state prosecutions;" if he alluded to these expressions, he (Mr. Fitzgerald) for one, must observe, that, on these points he went the whole length with the Catholic body. He considered them not as intemperate expressions, but as the decisive and deliberate sentiments of the great Catholic body—the nobility and gentry, as well as of the commercial interest. He contemplated that decision as most important. The Catholics said, "We can proffer no security for your establishments. The laws sustain your establishments and your Church, the Catholics have interfered with neither, not even at the moment that you disclaimed them.—How then can you imagine they will act contrary to the general interest of the state, when they are admitted to participate in the benefits of the constitution?" The Catholic asked for political freedom, he asked for it in a bold tone, and he (Mr. Fitzgerald) was glad of it. He required it for no sinister end. He called on you to give him freedom, that he might the more effectively fight your battles. He wanted not to attack the Church; if he did, those liberties which he required would give him no farther power, for that purpose, than he enjoyed at present. Let them have their rights, and the concession would be attended with the dissolution of that combi- nation, which, while the Catholics remained in a state of thraldom, threatened disunion to the empire.

said, no person could be more ready to allow freedom of worship to every sect than he was. But there were points of great importance on which they had to decide. He knew that the greatness, glory, and happiness of this country arose from putting down a certain religion—and it was worthy of consideration, whether the members of that religion should be admitted to greater civil rights than the body of Dissenters were. This question was to the constitution, what the title-deeds of his estate were to him.—Now, if a person came to ask from him certain privileges on his estate, it would be but fair that he should previously insist on some security, that the enjoyment of those privileges should not vitiate his title-deeds. And if a generous Irishman wanted immunities, he ought also to give sufficient safeguards. He was glad the question was to be put off till next session: it would afford an opportunity for both parties to meet for their mutual advantage. No man respected the Irish more than himself—they were a noble, generous, manly race of people, and congenial with his own feelings, for they loved women and wine as much as he did.—They were a fine people; had a high spirit and as good taste as spirit: there were however matters of false faith in their creed which no credibility could swallow. If their prelates could make the Roman Catholics believe things which were unbelievable, he would say to them, "As you believe so much, you may be brought to believe more—you may be brought to believe that which would be dangerous to the constitution." Therefore, he considered securities were necessary, to prevent any evil which might arise from concession.

said, the Roman Catholics demanded only those title-deeds which were their right, and not privileges upon the estate of any other person. He knew not what securities were wanted. What had been given up was no more than had already been abandoned by all other empires. The Roman Catholics wished to obey those laws which were equally binding on all the members of the community—and ought not to be called upon for a greater security for the preservation of the constitution, than had been demanded from other classes of the community. His right hon. friend (Mr. M. Fitzgerald) had put the question on its true basis. A great mass of the people, under existing circumstances, were bound together, by proscription, not in defence of the constitution, but, to a certain degree, against it.—Take away that proscription, give them an equal interest in the constitution, and they will be melted down in the great mass of the community. The honourable gentleman did not seem to know, when he spoke of Dissenters, that, though there were test laws here, there were none in Ireland. It was found necessary, at a former period, to repeal them. What securities were asked from that sect, when they were relieved from those laws in 1784? None. And what danger had resulted from the measure? Did the Dissenters of the North of Ireland become disaffected in consequence? By no means. The right honourable gentleman (Mr. Ryder) had asked, "is it possible to conceal from the country, that nothing can lead to a favourable issue with the Roman Catholics, unless full emancipation be granted to them?" He did not wish nor mean to conceal it. He did believe, and he always so expressed it, that nothing effectual could be done without it. And what the right hon. gentleman had said, in his brilliant opening speech, was perfectly true—that the onus probandi rested on those who considered restrictions necessary; and, if guards and securities were wanted, it was for them to shew their propriety. The right hon. gentleman (Mr. Ryder) had said, "he trusted such a change would take place amongst the Roman Catholics, as would emancipate them from spiritual bondage—but he could not indulge in such a hope."—Now, if by that change he meant the abandonment of that which constituted a part of the Catholic faith, he agreed with him that such emancipation was at a very great distance, And why did he think so? Because he was sure the Catholics of Ireland would not speedily become Protestants, which was the true meaning of the expression.—If such a circumstance did take place, then they needed not the right hon. gentleman's assistance, for they had only to march directly into the House, if elected. And, if they now pleased to stay out of the House, what actuated them? A sacred regard for those principles and tenets which they conscientiously believed to be right. The right hon. gentleman (Mr. Canning) had alluded to an abominable publication, and he was happy to behold the burst of indignation with which it was received. But this was not a solitary instance. Every time the question was brought forward, statements were sent abroad, which had been refuted for ages. The history of the inquisition, and various other pamphlets, calculated for all classes of the community, were put in circulation. But, however high the situation of those might be who resorted to those arts, they could not adopt measures more fatal to the peace of the British empire. If by such means the cry of "No Popery!" was again raised, it would be answered from Ireland by a cry of "No Union!" by a cry of "Separation!"

was of opinion, that as ministers had thought proper to give way to the discontents of some 100,000 manufacturers, in conceding the Orders in Council, they would be inconsistent if they did not yield to the still greater discontents of four millions of people. They were more strongly bound to concessions in the one case than in the other. Ministers, besides, had been accustomed to concession of late, in such a variety of instances, that they must now of necessity give way. It was a true principle, that if men found themselves deserted by their leaders, they would desert their leaders in their turn. He trusted, that as ministers had not made a stand when, as it appeared to him, the best interests of the country were concerned, in supporting the Orders in Council, they would not now make a stand, when the best interests of the country required concession.

, expressed himself in favour of the motion. He should have been better pleased, however, as the subject was to be postponed, if the Resolution had been couched in these terms—"That the House will, early in the next session, resolve itself into a committee, to take into consideration the laws affecting his Majesty's Roman Catholic subjects of England and Ireland, for the purpose and with a view of granting the prayer of their petition." This would be speaking in strong terms the opinion of those who might be supposed unwilling to concede. Any thing short of a declaration of this kind, that the prayer of the petition should be granted, would not give tranquillity to Ireland. Some bodies in this country might be inimical to this proceeding—for instance, the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge; but if those persons remained unconverted to the principle, was that any sufficient reason for not passing an act of emancipation?

declared his intention to move an amendment which should negative both resolutions. (Cries of Move, move) He really had hoped for a greater share of indulgence from the hon. gentleman opposite but being disappointed, he must take such as he could get. In the feelings which prevailed in the House that night, he saw an additional proof of the great loss which the country had sustained in the death of a right hon. gentleman now no more, and which he above all men deplored. He deplored the loss of that vigorous and determined spirit, which had exercised such a powerful influence; and when he looked on the right hon. gentlemen who sat below him, he saw nothing but a string of concessions, which gave hopes to the discontented, and not that vigorous spirit of resistance which was necessary to oppose those who wished to overturn every thing stable in the country. He should, however, feel it his duty to take the sense of the House on the present question, though he confessed he had but little hope of success. His reasons for opposing the motion were, because the Catholics demanded unconditional emancipation; they would be satisfied with nothing short of it, and he was not prepared to go that length. They wanted an equality of privileges: For that wish he did not blame them, nor should he oppose them, unless he thought it would be attended with infinite danger. But if the Catholic claims were granted, must not the House go still farther and repeal the test laws? (Hear, hear!) Why, then, gentlemen opposite admitted this; but was parliament prepared to go that length? Were they, then, to pass this measure on the broad basis of universal rights,—he had almost said the rights of man, which had led to the destruction of all privileges in France, and had ultimately ended in that despotism under which it laboured? Were the Catholic claims granted, the test laws would be next abolished; then would follow the corporation laws; and last of all, the laws of suffrage. It required more strength to keep the door half open, than close shut. If the principles of innovation were once given way to, we should see the scenes renewed which had been witnessed in the French Revolution.

rose, to give such information to the House, in respect to the practical influence of the Pope, which he con- ceived would enable the House to form a more correct judgment, on the question of securities, than it seemed to have as yet formed. He observed, that every member who attempted to explain the danger to be guarded against, was so utterly ignorant of the real practical extent of that influence, that he still hoped the clamour for securities would be dropped—he even had hopes the right hon. gentleman, a late Secretary of State, who had spoken, would give up his present opinion; for nothing could be more utterly unfounded, than every assertion he had made concerning this influence. He had held it out as affecting marriage, and all property that was regulated by marriage; also the legitimacy of children, and also all the temporal concerns of the Catholics. That he was wholly in error, he could prove by a document be held in his hand, of the highest ecclesiastical and legal authority. He had procured it as a statement, shewing in what consisted the whole practical influence of the Pope. There were but three points alone on which he could exercise any authority,—1st, in respect to marriage;—but not by any means in the way asserted by the right hon. gentleman. It says, "All the bishops of Ireland have faculties for dispensing, at their discretion, from the prohibitions of the degrees of marriage, as near as the degree of first cousin included. But if the extraordinary case should occur, of an uncle desiring to marry his nephew's widow, or a nephew desiring to marry his uncle's widow, the bishops have no power to dispense in such case, and the power is reserved for the Pope alone. There has been for the last 60 years no instance of any such dispensation." This is the whole of the authority possessed by the Pope in regard to marriage; so far, therefore, as the right hon. gentleman's argument for securities rests upon this part of his influence, he must acknowledge it is altogether untenable. The next point on which the Pope may exercise an authority is, "in deciding upon appeals from the Catholic clergy, in case of disputes among themselves upon questions of duty, precedence, &c. This is quite a forum domesticum, and can never concern the state. The Pope is not looked upon otherwise than as a dernier resort in such cases. The first step is in the bishop's court—next in order of appeal is that of the archbishop, or metropolitan; next, the primate, or four archbishops; lastly, the Pope. He proceeds by directing a commission to three Irish prelates to take evidence and report the facts proved. Upon this report he founds his decision. The cases under this head have been very few, and are now fallen into disuse." The last, and only remaining point on which the Pope possesses any authority, is in respect to the appointment of bishops, but this is entirely nominal; for, in fact, and practice, the Irish bishops fill up every vacancy. When a see is vacant, the bishops of the province having consulted with their clergy, recommend a proper person. They then install him, and next consecrate him. These proceedings having taken place, he is virtually a bishop, though not instituted by the Pope, the final step to the business. He acts immediately as a bishop, is considered as filling up the vacancy, and can do every ecclesiastical act, except giving orders of confirmation. It frequently happens that the Pope does not give institution for two or three years after the appointment by the bishops. That this appointment is virtually a domestic one, is proved by the experience of many years. The Pope has never interfered with the choice of the Irish bishops, since the time of the Pretender, except in one instance, and then by the advice of the Irish government. But the result would have been better for the tranquillity of Ireland, if they had left the matter with the bishops; for the person recommended by government, by his conduct in 1798, formed a most striking contrast to the zeal and loyalty displayed by all the rest of the Irish Catholic bishops at that unhappy period. From this statement, the authority of which, he would venture to say no one could dispute, it was evident that the most unfounded notion prevailed of the real practical influence of the Pope; it was clear that the cry for securities was one which was generated by utter ignorance of the subject; that no danger could come from this influence, and therefore that no security was wanting. The right hon. member begged the House to remember, that the political interference of the Pope had not been known on the continent for the se two centuries—that long before the Revolution it had ceased in this country—that during the rebellions of 1715 and 1745, no trace could be found among the papers of the Pretender, or of his friends, of a single Catholic being in anywise concerned. This influence had been very accurately described by the late Dr. Sturges, a very warm opponent of Catholic concession. He had said of it—"Stat nominis umbra." Mr. Fox, in 1805, speaking of it, said, "The fear of it was absurd—the alarm about it was not to be accounted for on any rational principle—it was, in fact, what Blackstone foretold it would be, feeble, ridiculous and despicable." But it was to be remembered by the House, that none of the advocates for securities pretended that any immediate danger would accompany the concession to the Catholics; their argument was, the influence of the Pope may become subservient to a foreign influence, the influence of the enemy, and thus be made an instrument to turn the Catholic clergy from their allegiance. But then it may be said, why provide the security now? Why act on this apprehension of danger, and not wait till the danger is established? Is this apprehension of an evil a sufficient cause to justify the postponement of the conciliation of the Catholics, of concentrating all the power of the country under the present circumstances of the times Certainly not. True policy would dictate the concession without qualification, there being no difficulty whatever created thereby to the adoption of any legislative measure which might become necessary by the existence of the apprehended danger. Let the effects of such a concession be examined. What would it do in regard to the passing of such a measure? It could not form a bar to it. Though ten times fifteen Catholic gentlemen should become members of this House—though half that number of peers might sit in the other House—they could not prevent parliament from adopting any securities which the actual existence of the danger to the establishments should render necessary. On the contrary, they would themselves he the first to support such a Bill. No one can be the least acquainted with lord Fingall, who would probably have a seat in the other House, and not feel satisfied that if circumstances should hereafter take place to render it fit to guard the established religion with new securities, he would most readily promote and support them. He, and those of his religion, would no further interfere than barely to secure their own religion, with an equal and becoming attention to their own rights and interests. The House, he trusted, would, on more mature deliberation, see this supposed danger, and think of these securities in a very different light. If it would calmly examine the extent of security that already exists, the past conduct of the Irish bishops—their oaths of allegiance—their public resolutions—and take into its consideration the nature of the security which the concession itself would create—he felt no doubt that when the next session arrived, and a specific measure was to be adopted, all the present clamour which now prevailed would subside, and that there would be a general feeling to grant to the Catholics their unqualified and unconditional emancipation, and thus secure for ever their most ardent affections, and their most invaluable co-operation in promoting the security and honour of the empire.

said, he would vote for the Resolution of his right hon. friend, but further he would not pledge himself to go one single step. He was extremely sorry to find that the Roman Catholics of Ireland had in a recent instance, that had already been alluded to, acted in a manner which he could not but pronounce rash and intemperate, and this he felt the more sensibly, as, from his own experience of the conduct of the Roman Catholics of England he was convinced there was no set of men more ready or more willing to act in support of the interests of their country where their services were required. He hoped the course suggested by his right hon. friend would be attended with the desired effect, and that all those causes of difference which had hitherto existed would be completely removed. In expressing these sentiments, however, he begged he might be distinctly understood, as wishing, that while the House was studying the best mode of conciliation, they would pay a due regard to those securities, which must be admitted by every thinking individual as indispensably necessary, as well to the safety of the constitution, as to the interests of the Catholics themselves.

said, that as he had formerly expressed his opinions on the present important question as fully as he could wish, and as nothing had since occurred which operated any change in those opinions, he should not now trouble the House with many observations. After what he had heard, however, this night, he fund it impossible to give a silent vote; and he, therefore, should briefly state the grounds which induced him to concur with his right hon. friend (Mr. Ryder), in giving a sincere negative to the Resolution. He confessed, that if it could be made appear to him, that the ex- tension of political power to the Catholics was consistent with the safety of our constitution, and the security of our establishments, he should have no objection to concession; but then the safety he alluded to was of such immense importance that in the very first instance, before one step was advanced, it should be made clear that no danger could attend it. With such an impression, it was not strange that the proposition should find an enemy in him; and, indeed, gentlemen would do well to consider whether they did not pledge themselves to the principle of concession by adopting this specious resolution. It was argued that this resolution was necessary: how it was so he could not understand. Was it not in the power of any member to compel the House to consider the question whenever he pleased? It was not, therefore, necessary to bind the House to its consideration: and something else besides the mere consideration of the subject was in the view of the right hon. mover and his supporters. He was afraid that the object was to delude the House into ulterior measures, by pledging it to concession. It was said that there were plans somewhere for securing our establishments; but why were they never disclosed? If concession was to be made, where were the guards to be set up in support of our constitution, and our domestic tranquillity? Some persons, indeed, on the other side, spoke of unconditional concession; but they for one instant could not have considered the frightful consequences which would follow from such a measure. He conceived that at least parliament was pledged by the articles of Union to support the Irish Protestant Church; but the gentlemen he alluded to might perhaps construe this pledge into a support of the Protestant Church in the United Kingdom. But suppose they did not; it was, notwithstanding, in case of unlimited and unfettered concession, not absurd to imagine the existence of a Catholic monarch in Ireland. For his part, he should not advance one step until those plans for the security of our establishments were disclosed, which were said to be in existence. But it was, perhaps, intended to conceal those plans, (knowing that they would be unsatisfactory to both parties) and to take both by surprise. If they were to be satisfactory, why not mention them at once? If an individual were asked to walk blindfolded to the edge of a precipice, would it be unreason- able in him to require the removal of the bandage before he stirred a step? If the present attempt at delusion should be successful, then the House walked blindly to the precipice,—it had no security against danger. Some gentlemen imagined, that for the sake of tranquillity they ought to agree to the present Resolution; but after the intelligence which had arrived that very day from Ireland, he thought that such a hope could not be entertained. If the question was to be no longer a government one,—if the government should no longer keep it under its protection, it became individuals to be more vigilant for the safety of the constitution; he beseeched the House therefore, not to lend themselves to a delusion, the consequences of which they might have to deplore. He considered that it was not fair, even to Catholics themselves, to adopt this resolution; because it was raising hopes which would in all probability be followed by disappointment and discontent. He should conclude, however, with protesting against the calumny which was attempted to be fixed upon the parliament and upon himself, that they would not agree to concession, if sufficient security should be offered for the integrity of the constitution.

began by observing, that, of the various opinions which had been expressed on this great question, on which scarcely any two gentlemen appeared precisely to agree, he felt himself inclined most nearly to coincide with his hon. friend the member for Newcastle (Mr. Bootle). He had hitherto abstained from taking a part in debates in which so great a number of gentlemen, particularly from the other part of the United Kingdom, usually thought it necessary to come forward; but he felt that upon that night he could not give a silent vote, without exposing himself to be much misunderstood. He could not vote in favour of the question, without appearing to have changed the opinion which he formerly held on the subject, or without being supposed to agree in those propositions of unlimited concession to the claims of the Catholics, which appeared to be the prevailing sentiment of the supporters of the motion. On the other hand, he could not vote against a motion the purport of which was merely to bring the representations of the Catholics under the consideration of parliament in the ensuing session, without countenancing the idea of a permanent exclusion from all improvement of their relative situation. He could agree in neither of those ideas. He should vote in support of the motion, because he thought, and had long thought, that their situation ought to be most seriously considered, and in some respects improved. But he thought it necessary to explain, that the concessions which he should recommend, were confined to comparatively narrow limits, and he could not hope that they would be satisfactory to the zealous supporters of the Catholic cause.

He thought that the relative situation of the Catholics of Great Britain and Ireland had, since the Union, been very awkward and anomalous. An Irish Catholic had not in England the same privileges as in Ireland, and the English Catholics, a most respectable and meritorious body of men, had not the same privileges as the Irish. He thought them unquestionably entitled to be put upon the same footing, and thinking so, it was impossible for him to vote against the question. He thought too, that the Catholics, who so largely contributed to the naval and military service of the country, were entitled to a larger share than they now possessed of the honours and advantages of those professions; and he wished to look carefully, and with the most conciliating disposition, though at present with no very decided opinion, into the civil privileges which might safely be granted to them. But among these, he did not mean to include the great question of legislative power. He thought it became parliament most anxiously to deliberate, and cautiously to advance, in a career which might be full of danger, and in which there was no possibility of retreat.

Before he entered on this part of the question, he should, however, wish to touch upon the charge of vacillation brought against his Majesty's servants by the hon. gentleman behind him (Mr. M. Montague). There were only three instances in which any appearances of change of councils could be observed; that of the postponement of part of the intended barracks; that of the salary of his Royal Highness's private secretary; and the great question of the Orders in Council.

As to the barracks, he had already explained, on a former occasion, that the postponement proceeded from no change of opinion, but from a desire in the present Board of Treasury to enquire into the plan, and make themselves masters of the subject, before they formed a decided opinion.

With regard to the second instance, respecting colonel M'Mahon, as well as to that of the barracks, he could appeal to the House, whether the erection of a barrack, or the salary of a private secretary, could be considered as any criterion of the general policy of a government. In the case of colonel M'Mahon, it was undoubtedly a spontaneous act of liberality on the part of the Prince Regent, to take upon his private income a charge, which, though not considerable, was, as far as it went, an increase of the general civil list establishment.

The question of the Orders in Council was indeed of primary importance; but it should be recollected, that, in this instance, the great concession was made by his lamented friend the late Chancellor of the Exchequer, when he consented to the appointment of a committee. He could not but be aware, when he entered upon an enquiry into the subject, of the nature of the evidence which might be produced, and of the effect which that evidence might have upon the opinion of the House. It was indeed true that strong reasons of policy might be urged against the revocation of the Orders in Council; but circumstances of great distress had been pointed out, and their connection with the existence of the Orders in Council sufficiently established. It was Obvious, therefore, that, on the one side, there was an immediate and pressing evil, on the other, a danger, which, however formidable in some very respectable opinions, was remote and contingent, and might, by possible changes of circumstances, be avoided. In chusing this side of the alternative, he could not feel that his Majesty's ministers indicated any general change of policy, or any disposition to condemn the measures which they had formerly pursued.

But to return to the immediate question before the House; he thought the admission of the Catholics into the body of the legislature so great a departure from the principles and practice of the constitution, as settled at the Revolution, that it should not be conceded without the greatest deliberation. The whole frame of our constitution, as then fixed, was Protestant; the crown was irrevocably entailed upon the Protestant line; and the Protestant sovereignty was supported by a Protestant parliament, and a Protestant magistracy. But time, which imperceptibly produced the greatest changes, might so alter the relative feelings and connections of the Protestants and Catholics of this country, as to prepare them for a removal of all religious distinctions. He thought this time, however, by no means yet arrived; he doubted whether the minds of the Protestants even of Ireland were prepared for such a change. He felt convinced that those of Great Britain were not yet in such a state; and he dreaded lest a premature attempt to remove all religious animosities might only serve to increase them. He was desirous also to hear a distinct explanation of those securities for the Protestant religion, which had been so often talked of, but never defined.

How far they might appear to him sufficient, and to what degree the remaining disabilities might be safely removed, must materially depend upon the disposition and conduct of the Catholics themselves; and it rested with them particularly to accelerate or to defeat the accomplishment of their own wishes. But it was not only in the situation and feelings of the United Kingdom that he saw many reasons for deliberation and caution, but in the event had lately taken place, and were still in progress in other parts of the world. Great changes had of late occurred with respect to the Roman Catholic religion itself, and no one could pretend to foresee what, in a few years, might be its state. The head of that religion was now the first bishop in the French empire, and Rome had been declared its second city. The person indeed who was at present the nominal head of that Church, was a prisoner, and debarred from the exercise of all spiritual functions; and this circumstance could not but have a strong influence upon a Church, in which so much depended on the personal influence and authority of the Pope. It had a tendency to divide the Church of Rome into a variety of separate national establishments. But this state might not continue; it depended on the life of a feeble old man, whose misfortunes he pitied, and whose constancy he admired, but who might soon be the victim of the infirmities of nature, or of the rigour of despotism; and all we can now know of his successor is, that he must be the nominee of Buonaparté. Under such a successor, the spiritual authority of the Church might be revived and exerted with full effect, in conjunction with the policy and ambition of the temporal sovereignty of the emperor. There were other circumstances equally observable in the present state of the Roman Catholic Church. The two great bulwarks of its power had been the wealth and importance of the hierarchy, and the number, activity, and riches of the monastic orders. Both of those bulwarks were now demolished; in almost all the countries of Europe the revolutions of the state, or the necessities of the government, had swept away the ecclesiastical property, and reduced the clergy to a moderate and even penurious stipendiary allowance. The monastic orders had been almost every where suppressed, and their members dispersed as wretched exiles through the world, or engaged in secular and even military employments. It was impossible that such a change of circumstances could fail materially to influence the sentiments and feelings of the Catholic population. In what manner this influence would operate, he thought experience had not yet decided, and that it would be dangerous to act upon mere conjecture. But another change was taking place, which he could not view without the highest approbation and the most sanguine hope; he meant, that the Bible was now received by many Catholics in their respective languages, and that in Ireland particularly, this happy change was rapidly extending. Whatever truth there might be in the charge so often brought against the members of the Romish Church, of holding certain dangerous and detestable opinions, which was a subject upon which he was unwilling to enter, they could not be, attributed to men who acknowledged the Bible as the rule of their faith and conduct. He thought the prevalence of such sentiments, and the improvement of education and instruction which were so rapidly extending, the best preparation, and the strongest ground for hereafter claiming civil rights and immunities. But he wished to give this preparation time to produce its effect. He wished, before he decided, to see the Roman Catholic religion such as it may be in a settled state of things, whenever, that settled state may arrive, and that parliament would not hastily determine upon what it might repent of, but never could recal.

hoped it would never be a point of honour with any government to persevere in measures after they were convinced of their impropriety. Political expediency was not at all times the same; what at one time might be considered consistent with sound policy, would at another be completely impolitic. Thus it was with respect to the Roman Catholics. What changes had not taken place in the question itself, as well as in the minds of the House, since it was last agitated! These were, however, circumstances which ought not to render the question more difficult to be met, as the House was not called upon to argue upon principles which were applicable to other times and to other views. If the proposition before the House was simply to vote for the resolution of the right hon. gentleman (Mr. Canning), with a view to future discussion, he was ready to admit that the course was perfectly unobjectionable; but if the House was to be pledged to any concession, he agreed with his right hon. friend (Mr. Ryder) that it would be extremely wise to resist such a proposition in limine. Not that he had any disposition to oppose concession, after a full and fair investigation of the terms upon which concession could be granted, but because he was averse to giving any pledge, until the safety and welfare of the constitution and the Protestant Church was fully ascertained. Securities of the most liberal nature ought to be demanded; and he would not be satisfied unless the Catholics would consent that the same religious power should be granted to the king of Great Britain, as in other countries was allowed to other potentates. Above all, he should be sorry to see the toleration acts, those great bulwarks of the constitution, removed, or even assailed. In all events, however, enquiry was necessary, and the mutual advantages to be derived by the two countries from a concord of sentiment, was most evident. With these feelings, he should vote for the resolution before the House.

declared, that he had to express his entire concurrence in what had been said of the present ministers, respecting their disposition to conciliate the Catholics. He would not say that they were inconsistent, because, as had been observed by the hon. gentleman who preceded him, time did much in the working of great political changes, and was indeed always to be considered a principal ingredient in the contest of opinions. He well knew how completely what at one time might appear most chimerical, might at another he considered as not only possible but politic; and he had seen instances where the most honourable and conscientious men,—and men, too, of the best understandings,—had changed their opinions on important state questions: changed them of course from a more full consideration of the circumstances attending such questions, of the temper of the people to whom they applied, and of the general exigencies of the times. If the ministers of the crown upon the present occasion had changed their opinions, he was not disposed to call it a victory obtained over them by their antagonists, but a triumph of ministers over themselves. As to the amendment of an hon. general, he hoped that upon it the House would not be driven to divide. He certainly wished extremely for an immediate committee, if the House were willing to go into it; but the House was not willing, and therefore, though he did not differ from the spirit of the amendment, he hoped it would not be pressed. With regard to the original motion, one sentence would characterise it:—it was a motion of concord,—it was a motion for a determination to consider the claims of the Catholics with a view to conciliatory adjustment,—it was a motion to adopt the consideration of what was to be done for the Catholics, while at the same time it professed to conciliate without danger. On what ground could such a motion be objected to? Could its opposers say, that they objected on account of the petitions that had been presented?—Petitions so numerously signed, and in language so respectful. Could they object to a conciliatory adjustment? Could they oppose going into a consideration which promised to put their Church out of danger? To him it appeared, that as the resolution was pre-eminently one of concord, the adopting it would be voting themselves one people—aye, voting themselves one people; and the Catholics also would receive the resolution in the same spirit. They would receive it as a declaration of love, of cordiality, of affection. Such a resolution must work a material change in the minds of the Irish. It would hold out their question to them in colours of probable success, arising from a number of circumstances, all of which had not taken place when it was last under consideration. But now that they had taken place, the best way to consider their effect was as the decree of common sense, which time would undoubtedly sanctify and establish. One of the circumstances alluded to was, the repeated discussion of the question in parliament; another a recent melancholy event. A third, the decision in a most illustrious quarter on the subject. A fourth, the great numbers, though a minority, on a former occasion, when those claims were discussed. There were other circumstances which he need not enumerate, but all tended to indicate a wish on the part of the people of England, to shake hands honestly and warmly with the people of Ireland; and all tended also to justify the change of opinion in those who might have thought concession hitherto impracticable. He was the more convinced that men could vote without inconsistency for this resolution, when he remembered that he, in the Irish parliament divided with 25 in one session on the Catholic question, and that in the very next he made one of the whole House voting in the affirmative for that question. Would any one have upbraided the Irish parliament for inconsistency on that occasion? Would it not rather be said, that what might have been temerity in one session, became wisdom in the other? The advanced guard explores the ground, and makes an unsuccessful experiment in arms. It retires, and the rear-guard saves it. But when it succeeds, then the rearguard advances and gains the victory. He would now suppose the resolution carried, and then certainly parliament would have the responsibility of the introduction of this question, and would also, should it fail, have the responsibility of its failure. He would therefore advise the government, if they should have any communication with the Catholics, not to demand any securities but what were necessary and just. He would advise the government rather to take the part of aiding than of thwarting,—rather to go on, than to look back to past disputes,—rather to go half way, than to stand upon high points with an unaccommodating and unconciliatory demeanour. On the other hand, he would advise the Catholics not to oppose any frivolous objections to the just arrangements that might be deemed necessary. It had been his intention, in the beginning of next session, to move for leave to bring in a Bill for the repeal of the penal laws. He was, however, so convinced that it would come better from the executive, that he would much rather give it up to ministers. If any of his Majesty's ministers should take it up, he would be happy to second the proposition, and give it every support in his power.

complimented the right hon. gent. who had just sat down on his talents and exertions; and still more on the generous tone of his speech. It was for them that night to discharge their duty by stating the grounds upon which they voted; that they might hereafter come to the discussion of the subject with as little misunderstanding on any part of it as possible. For himself he had to say, that if he were not to concur in the motion of the right hon. gent. his conduct would be an abandonment of those principles which he had always avowed, and by which he had always been regulated. Feeling, as he always had felt, the necessity of endeavouring to admit, the Catholics into the constitution, when the difficulties which had opposed that measure were lessened or removed, when the temper of the Catholics, and the circumstances of the times would, in his opinion, justify its being attempted to be done, if no one else had taken up the subject, he himself would have felt it his duty to bring it forward. The obstacles which had formerly stood in its way were such, that in his opinion, to discuss the subject could only have had the effect of injuriously agitating the mind. Those obstacles, to which he particularly alluded, existed no longer. The unfortunate situation of the King, and after the time which had elapsed, there was, at present between parliament and the executive power no objection to the measure. Parliament was now left to exercise its wisdom upon the question, unrestrained by those considerations of respect and delicacy, which he confessed had formerly operated most powerfully on his mind. He agreed also with the right hon. gentleman, that what had taken place in the course of the session, evinced a disposition, on the part of parliament, to enter into a consideration of the subject, which did not appear before; and this went to prove, that the time was come, when it was almost impossible for any government to pause on the propriety of taking it into consideration. He wished to be understood, that he only expressed his own individual sentiments, as the other members of the cabinet had done theirs; and, he trusted, the line he took, on the present occasion, would be found consistent with what he had frequently stated, that though from the circumstances of the times, he was obliged at those times to resist it, he was still friendly to the measure. Before the Union he had had it in his mind that the progress of circumstances would have a tendency to introduce the Catholics into the constitution, even if Ireland had re- mained a separate country, and this had been with him one inducement to press the Union, which he trusted would prove a measure of conciliation and mutual advantage. He then noticed that anomaly in the constitution which was presented by the situation of the English Catholics, whose conduct had been so unexceptionable, that it had never subjected them even to the least charge of imprudence, yet they were not only labouring under all the disabilities complained of by the Catholics of Ireland, but they were exposed to penal laws, the operation of which was such, that the humanity of the times would not suffer them to be enforced. When he looked on this, he had always felt that the constitution could not rest securely till some alteration was effected. This struck him the more forcibly, when he considered that in Scotland a Catholic might fill the highest offices in the state, while his situation was such as he had described in England. Feeling that the constitution could not remain in this state, he had contemplated the Union as that which might accelerate the means of effecting a change, and it was now for them to make the best use of the situations in which they were placed. He had, however, never looked forward to a concession of the Catholic claims as a measure that could be either wise or politic, unless it were accompanied with safeguards, which would sufficiently guarantee the safety of the constitution. With respect to the securities necessary to be given, he had never anticipated any that went to impose any thing at variance with the principles of the Catholic religion; he had never wished for any concessions that would degrade or dishonour Catholics, or that were not as proper to be conceded by them as to be received by the Protestants. He had desired no securities which the Catholics had not recognized in other countries, as compatible with the principles of their religion. He had wished to follow the example of our Catholic ancestors, in the measures they took for guarding against the effects of foreign influence. As to what had been said of the Pope, he would say that, however feeble he might be in the hands of the tyrant of France, he would be formidable in England, and still more so in Ireland. It had been said, that the Pope had not nominated an Irish Catholic bishop for a considerable number of years. He doubted the correctness of this statement, but if it were correct, it was to be remembered that he might nominate every Irish bishop. The see of Rome, as at present existing, and likely to exist, might give Buonaparté an opportunity of giving the Papal dignity to cardinal Fesch. What influence might he not gain by such means in Ireland? He could not be more aware of the danger on this head than the right hon. gentleman (Mr. Grattan) himself, as he had on a former occasion, when he brought forward the question on the Catholic claims, stated it to be essential to the security of the empire, that we should be properly guarded against the effects of foreign influence in Ireland. He did not say that the existence of foreign influence should exclude them from the constitution, but this be said, that when they were admitted to the constitution, they ought to unite with us in protecting it against all foreign enemies. He wished them to subscribe to nothing to which they had not already subscribed in other countries. In Spain, as had been stated in the valuable publications of an hon. baronet, whose accuracy and historical knowledge could be depended upon, (sir J. C. Hippisley) though the most bigoted country in Europe, it had been thought necessary to guard against the influence of the Pope in the affairs of the state. He thought with respect to the Catholics in Ireland, that there ought to exist no connection which was not avowed and notorious. He wished what passed between them to be public, to guard against the suspicion of any secret foreign influence; but he had never thought of requiring securities which the Catholics had not given in other countries to guard against a foreign secret influence, which might be abused. He had no objection to vote for the motion in its largest sense, and no objection to the Catholics being admitted to the fullest participation in the constitution, provided the requisite securities were given. The benefits which would result from their being admitted into the constitution would consist in the Catholics feeling themselves placed on a footing of equality with their Protestant brethren, and the Protestants feeling that the Catholics would no longer be dangerous to themselves. If some concession were not made, the question must be expected to come before them year after year, till the Protestants and Catholics were settled on a footing of political equality. He had no hesitation in warmly concurring with the Resolution, and with the proposition for a final adjustment of the Catholic claims. He only desired that adequate regulations might be made, and this done, he was willing to concede all they asked. He had no objection to the second resolution of the right hon. gentleman, which went to lay the resolution then under consideration before the Prince Regent, if it went no further; but if it was meant to advise the crown to direct ministers to bring forward a measure in conformity with the wish of that resolution, he could not agree to it. It would be a hard task to impose upon a government, to frame a measure according to the ideas of an individual, under such circumstances as those under which in the present instance they would be called upon to frame one. He did not mean that government would not take the subject into their consideration, but to frame a measure like that proposed, under, circumstances like the present, he did not conceive was a fair duty to impose upon any government. He knew of no disposition in any quarter of the administration to make Catholic concession a cabinet question. Every one took that part which his own judgment dictated. He should be glad if things were in such a state that it could be so taken up; but where there was such a variety of opinions upon the subject, he did not think government would be likely to carry it so far as an individual. All he could say was, that holding those opinions which be had entertained ever since the Union, which were on record, and which he had never had any disposition or occasion to change, he was most anxious in his individual capacity to exert himself, in or out of parliament, in any way that might give the Catholics that which they claimed, provided the measure could be accompanied by those securities which the Protestants had a right to expect. Such a measure would be most beneficial in establishing the authority of the government of Ireland; and although the Catholic interest would still act together as all Dissenters did, and as it was in nature for them to do; yet he thought it better that they should act within the constitution than out of it.—Upon the whole, the question was not free from constitutional danger, and though it might be difficult to devise adequate securities, still, in the present state of the Catholic mind, and in the present state of papal power, it would be well to look at the difficulties which opposed themselves to the measure, get over them if they could, and if they could not, at least approach so near the difficulties as to be able to state in parliament where the measure 'hitched,' and that ascertained, if the obstacle were insurmountable, it would be seen that parliament had done what they could, and then he should hope, with that knowledge the public would be satisfied, and the question set at rest. Having thus explained his sentiments, he had only to say, that the reason he had not done so before, was, that difficulties were in the way, which in his opinion, rendered the agitation of the subject improper; those difficulties removed, he was as anxious for an enquiry into the claims of the Catholics as any one.

said, that if he rightly understood the noble lord, after twelve years, during which his opinions had been in complete abeyance, or conflicting with themselves, he had now returned to the sentiments he professed at the period of the Union.—What he had been urging for the last quarter of an hour none would dispute, and none but the noble lord would have thought it necessary to state. From the speech just delivered, he augured very ill of the final success of the cause, since whatever impression circumstances might have made upon the House, it was quite clear that no impression had been made upon the government.—He objected to the amendment of the gallant general, only because it would not be carried, and whatever injury it might do the cause, he felt compelled to say that he should vote for the original motion, because it pledged parliament upon the subject of the Catholic claims. By this declaration he might deter many gentlemen from supporting the resolution by their votes, but frankness and common honesty demanded it. But how did the matter stand with regard to the ministers of the country, as they termed themselves? The resolution now proposed was to be passed by the parliament, was to be approved by the highest authority in the kingdom, and yet these ministers confessed themselves so weak, imbecile, and inefficient, that they were unable and unwilling to carry into effect that which as the government they were bound to accomplish. Such were the ministers that at this crisis were placed at the head of affairs! He believed the noble lord sincere, when he stated that he wished the measure to be carried; but he saw no reason to think that the noble lord would endeavour to influence, others, or would risk his own situation for the sake of attaining it. He had, it was true, spoken as usual on both sides of the question, but had concluded by supporting the resolution. His new coadjutor had confessed that the time for concession was arrived—yet the government was to do nothing! All men in the kingdom, except the ministers, had made up their minds upon the subject. What was the cause of this dissent? Why were not the Catholic claims to be made a government question? The noble lord had supplied the clue to guide men out of his labyrinth, when he declared that the truth was, that no government could be formed in these times hostile to concession. An honourable friend of his had stated, that time would produce most wonderful changes. It was true that the lapse of years might do something, but the alteration that had been produced in the cabinet by the lapse of a single month was wonderful indeed!—Under such dissentions who, upon this subject, were to be the advisers of the Regent? Or were his ministers to offer their discordant councils seriatim? The last month had been a most memorable period; nothing but changes: ministers had altered their minds on every question. The barracks at Liverpool, Bristol, and Mary-le-bone, formerly declared to be essential to the security of the state, had been abandoned. Colonel M'Mahon was to be paid out of the privy purse, though only a few weeks before, Mr. Perceval had declared, seconded by all his satellites (who ceased to shine when his fire was withdrawn), that it was unconstitutional anti improper. The Orders in Council, those measures which had been declared necessary to the very existence of Great Britain as an independent state, were now to be rescinded as matters of trifling import; and last of all, the Catholic claims were to be conceded, though not a month ago the very same men who now so warmly advocated them, had resisted them with efforts that appeared almost beyond the powers of human nature. Such was the government with whom the Catholics were to communicate, without a hope of a final and happy termination of the existing difficulties. With respect to the established religion it required no securities, such as those alluded to. The constitution was in no danger from those who having a share in it were interested in its continuance, and the best pledge he could expect from a Catholic was the acceptance of office. A noble viscount in another place (lord Sidmouth) was the only member of the administration who had frankly declared that the Catholics had nothing to expect. With regard to the result of the present system of policy, he observed, that the only effect would be, to make the people of Ireland rebel, their bishops preach, and the aggregate meeting debate. He wished that the resolution this night to be adopted, should be conveyed to the throne, but he was first desirous that the sentiments of persons in another place should be ascertained: the change of opinion might not there be quite so general: noble personages might yet doubt, and the chancellor might still have some relicts of that conscience of which he had been boasting during the last ten years. There too securities might be required, lest the Irish bishops should hold treasonable correspondence with a foreign power, although he could not imagine why an Irish bishop should not in such a case be dealt with like an English bishop, who would lose his head for such a crime. He trusted that before the ensuing session, the noble lord would endeavour so to train his colleagues as to induce them to adopt some one opinion, and not to stray about as their fancies might dictate, if indeed the design in letting loose the question, were not merely that a certain set of men might remain in office, knowing, that otherwise they would be excluded. He would assert without hesitation, that there never was a more foul traitor to the best interests of his country, than the man who held a place under such conditions, and no punishment could be too severe for him.—He applied the term to no individual: he trusted there was not one who deserved it, but this the noble lord and his friends would be best able to decide.

said, the object of the motion was to pledge parliament, and not the government; for which reason the latter ought not to be called upon for their opinion on the subject. He had received no new lights during the discussion, nor had heard any thing which in the least altered his opinion. He had no hope or expectation that this measure could be of any benefit to the Catholics. The general opinion was, that security ought to be taken. Lord Grenville's letter shewed he thought that necessary to guard against foreign influence. Mr. Pitt's proposition was, first, that there should be an ample security for the religion of the country; next, that the matter in itself should be agreeable to the people of this country. It would, therefore, be necessary to ask in what that security was to consist. Mr. Pitt and lord Grenville never made up their minds as to what the proposition might be; and it was unfair to throw, at this moment, the odium of this uncertainty on government. It was deluding the House to bring forward a proposition like the present. They did not know what it was intended to propose; and unless some plan could be laid down on which both parties were likely to come to an agreement, to agitate the subject was worse than useless.

observed, that having so recently delivered his sentiments, at considerable length, on the general question, he had no other motive for rising at so late an hour of the night, but in obedience to the calls which had been made upon him, accompanied with expressions entitled to an acknowledgment, which if withheld, he should, perhaps, be considered as insensible to the value of them.

He could not but express his surprise, that,—hearing such repeated demands for H "securities," and so much anxiety expressed, by so many speakers in the course of the debate, to have those securities distinctly stated,—no reference had been made except by the noble viscount on the treasury bench, to the regulations he had so often noticed in former debates, and which he conceived had been pretty generally understood, if not generally approved. Those regulations, in conjunction with the ordinary civil test of allegiance, were adequate, in his opinion, to satisfy every rational claim and security for the establishment, and, as such, had been repeatedly stated by himself in that House. With reference to the high authorities on which they were founded:—they had been sanctioned by the wisdom and policy of almost every other state in Europe, with more or less qualification, and were sedulously interposed as barriers against the encroachments of the see of Rome, to which recourse must occasionally be had in every state where the religion of Rome was either dominant or merely tolerated; were there wanting instances of the existence of such encroachments even at a very recent period. In the estimation of many, there was but little apprehension to be entertained in the present state of the world:—a provident legislature, nevertheless, would not dispense with the enactment of such provisions as might eventually meet the evil, whenever it might present itself, however small the probability might be of its recurrence; and, especially, as such provisions might go far to allay the fears of those who could not otherwise reconcile themselves to an assent to further concessions. The legislature could have no difficulty in framing such provisions;—they were to be found in the municipal code of almost every Catholic, as well as Protestant state,—and, indeed, those states, wherein the Catholic religion was dominant, were best qualified to estimate the danger to be provided against. It was not the Catholic subject against whom the barrier was to be raised in defence of the establishment; but it was against an exterior power possessing great influence on the human mind, which, if exerted as at former periods, might be highly injurious to, if not ultimately subversive of, the liberties of the Catholic and Protestant alike: and in this persuasion both Catholic and Protestant states had alike sought security in legislation.

On every occasion in which he had taken a part in the discussion of the general question, sir J. H. said, that although his endeavours had been chiefly directed to repel the influence of popular prejudices connected with it, yet at no time had he been the advocate of an unqualified abrogation of the existing statutes which bear upon the subject, many of which were framed by our Catholic ancestors. It had been held that the abrogation should be accompanied with due regulations, which the Catholic as well as the Protestant would equally regard as salutary barriers against the possible encroachment of a foreign jurisdiction. It was too late, at such an hour, to enter upon the discussion of those securities; but he would beg to call the recollection of the House to those documents he had frequently referred to, in the course of former debates, which were annexed to those publications to which the noble viscount on the treasury-bench had done him the honour to advert. He had considered it as an imperious duty to contribute, as much as was in his power, to tranquillize those apprehensions which were but too general, by an extended circulation of those documents without the walls of this House; and, indeed, he had great authority in support of his own opinion, that such was the most advisable course to adopt, in the view of ultimately subduing the influence of popular prejudices; prejudices, nevertheless, which we are in some measure bound to respect, being for the most part rooted in a veneration and affection for our religious and civil institutions. While the apprehensions of the Catholic subject might be set at rest in a conviction that no violence was intended to be offered to his religion, inasmuch as Catholic states were themselves the most forward to establish such barriers against encroachment;—the Protestant would discover that the proposed regulations afforded effectual safe-guards to the constitution itself. They were not crude or fanciful provisions, but such as had been matured by the experience of ages, and practicable without offence. It was true that they had been originally framed when the power of the pontiffs was truly formidable, and top often injuriously exerted; but they were still continued as existing regulations, and even re-enacted with additional restrictions at a very recent period, in a government which was supposed to be most blindly devoted to the religion of Rome. He spoke particularly of Spain, which had also been noticed by the noble viscount, in reference to the edict which sir J. H. had on a former occasion stated in the House. The policy of Napoleon too might serve as an example—fas'et ab hoste doceri,' is sometimes a wholesome adage.—With the Pope a prisoner within his state, he legislates with provident caution against the encroachments by the interdiction of all missives, bulls, briefs, &c. without a regulated examination.—If such had been the policy of Catholic states, and of such recent practice,—it surely becomes a duty imposed upon those of a different communion, not to be less vigilant. Russia, in this respect, followed closely in the steps of those Catholic states;—the see of Rome has not remonstrated on the excess of her caution, but recognised her concessions in favour of her numerous Catholic subjects, with every demonstration of respect and gratitude.

But if arguments drawn from the examples of foreign states were not sufficient to evince, that something more than shadows were to be encountered, sir J. H. said he should call to his aid the candid avowal of a dignitary of the Roman Catholic communion,—a subject of his Majesty, who himself had been a close and intelligent observer of the facts upon which he grounded his opinions. In a detailed correspondence in which he had zealously defended the doctrines of his. Church from the injurious imputation of hostility even to civil allegiance in a Protestant state, his candour admitted, at the same time, that there existed abuses, almost systematic, which a prudent policy should be on the alert to discover and repress:—but to use his own words, "But whilst I say and advance all this as a stedfast Roman Catholic, not ill versed in all doctrinal points of this Church, I am, from a long-acquired experience, bold to say, that I am far from being prejudiced, or so sold to Rome, as not to allow that it behoves every national Church, or even State, to guard against certain encroachments, cabals, and intrigues of Rome and of her Curia, whose finesse and the most refined policy are ever in practice."—To evince the modern existence of such encroachments, sir J. H. said he should refer to another authority,—that of another dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church, a metropolitan of a province in Ireland some time since deceased,—the archbishop thus expressed his discontent:—"I was surprised to hear of an alien bishop coming into my province, which was a treatment I did not expect from the sacred congregation, who gave me no notice thereof. If cardinal Antonelli had remained in his station, I would have taken the liberty of letting him know my mind very candidly."—In these short extracts, sir J. H. observed, from authorities which are irrefragable, the precept of one writer is illustrated in an example given by the other. The authorities are not of an antiquated date—they are both of the same year—so recent as the year 1794, and the originals of both the documents were in his possession. The act of intrusion, although probably of little moment in itself, yet afforded sufficient evidence of that usurpation of authority, which might eventually be directed to a mischievous purpose, and tend at least to unsettle and disquiet the minds of those Catholics, who regard with a less resisting spirit than others, the efforts of the papal power when exerted beyond its legitimate sphere of action. It is enough for the present argument to discover, that the intrusion did in fact excite serious discontent in the mind of the venerable prelate upon whose ecclesiastical jurisdiction the intrusion was made.

In the face of such pointed authorities, with the practice of almost every state in Europe—of the Catholic, as well as the reformed communion, in favour of regulation, with the admission of the four metropolitan, and six senior Roman Catholic prelates of Ireland in the year 1799; to the principle of which no subsequent resolution has ever been opposed; with such admissions at home, and such anthorities abroad, shall regulation, in the same spirit and to the same end, be now resisted, as a wanton and untenable attack upon the feelings and principles of our Catholic fellow subjects? Much as he had ever been an advocate of their application to parliament, because in his judgment it was founded in equitable claims, and because the concession would be strictly warranted by a sound and liberal policy, he had been uniform in his declarations, from the first moment when he took any part in the discussion of the question, that he could never assent to the measure, unaccompanied with those securities which had been sanctioned by the wisdom and experience of ages.—When the time shall have arrived for that deliberate consideration to which parliament was now called upon to pledge itself, he should then think it his duty to be prepared to enter upon those details of regulation, conformable to his own view of the subject, and be ready to substantiate the high authorities which sanction them.—He therefore most cheerfully supported the motion before the House, as it avowed for its object,—"such a final and conciliatory adjustment, as may be conducive to the peace of the United Kingdom, to the stability of the Protestant establishment, and to the general satisfaction and concord of all classes of his Majesty's subjects."

said, he understood the question was not to be considered as a cabinet question. Nothing could be more absurd than a cabinet professing to have no opinion on such an important subject. Three ministers had given their sentiments: those of the noble lord certainly were the most wise, and he congratulated him on it.—He had been told that security was to be given by the Catholics; he would ask, whether it was to the noble lord or to his two colleagues? He rose how-ever for the purpose of asserting, that he was one of those that did not ask for any security, for he considered the best security would be gained by granting them full emancipation—He approved of the motion so ably brought forward by the right hon. gentleman, because he thought, if agreed to, it would be a step gained in favour of the Catholic cause; but farther than this he did not wish to encourage an expectation; for, if asked his opinion with respect to the manner in which government would act upon it, he would be disposed to say, that they would not act at all, and that the task to form a measure for carrying into effect the resolution of parliament would devolve again, as it had hitherto done, upon his right hon. friend near him (Mr. Grattan) who had devoted his life to the welfare and interests of so large a portion of his fellow subjects. It would be an arduous undertaking; for there was one circumstance in the discussion of this question which he should notice.—Among all the persons whom he had heard speak on the subject, he observed, there was no union or identity of opinion.—Those who were for it, proposed various and different degrees of concession; while those who were against it, proposed various sorts of securities. Some of the latter indeed, insisted upon terms as severe as were ever demanded of Roman Catholics, in any other country, at any period. Now, he would wish these gentlemen to consider the times and circumstances under which the Catholic Claims were preferred; for from the description of people who demanded such securities, he must beg leave to differ. He would assure his right hon. friend however, that as far as his (Mr. Ponsonby's) humble powers went, he should never want a zealous assistant; nor would the friends around him be less anxious to lend their aid.

was certain, if the right honourable gentleman (Mr. Tierney) had not lost votes by his speech, he had at least offended many who were disposed to vote with him. If gentlemen on his side of the House could abandon their principles to preserve their places, he could only say, they should not have his vote. Concurring in the motion of the right hon. gentleman, he must disclaim the principles by which that motion had been supported. So far from there being no person connected with the government who had expressed his support of the motion, the noble lord had declared that he not only should not interpose difficulties in the way of the measure; but had even pledged himself to the entertaining of it with favour when it should be brought forward next session. The present motion had been hailed on the other side as an auspicious omen. He (Mr. F.) viewed it in the same light, and trusted it would lead to the safety of the country and the happiness of the people.

explained, that no member of the government, as a member of the government, had given any pledge in favour of the measure.

said, notwithstanding the speech of the right honourable gentleman opposite was more calculated to deter from the support of the motion than even the speeches of those who objected to it, still he should not be prevented from voting for the motion, his object being that the subject should be taken into early consideration next session. The repeal, however, must in his opinion not be unconditional, but must be guarded by pledges.

, when he saw by the resolutions of the aggregate meeting, that the Catholics would not be pleased to grant pledges, could not consent to vote for the motion. He must first see the Protestant religion secured.

was of opinion, that his right honourable friend (Mr. Tierney) had successfully exposed not only the imbecility, but the insincerity of ministers. He was astonished that any man could be diverted, by the Declarations of an angry meeting at Dublin, from giving due weight to the forcible, and, he should think, irresistible arguments of the right honourable gentleman who had so ably and eloquently brought forward the present motion, considering that it was in the power of parliament to accompany the measure, when it should ultimately be granted, with such pledges as they should chuse. Since the death of Mr. Perceval, he could not help remarking that ministers had yielded every point of their former policy. The minor points they might have yielded to the wishes of the people; but the major points they had conceded, not in the spirit of magnanimity but of pusillanimity; they were beaten by the people and parliament, but his right hon. friend (Mr. Grattan) had paid them much too high a compliment when he imagined that they had gained a victory over themselves. The noble lord said, he was for the resolution moved by the right honourable gentleman, but as a minister, that he would not act in such a manner as to give effect to it. The Chancellor of the Exchequer was of a similar mind. Then came a right honourable gentleman (Bathurst), who it was understood was to be in the cabinet, and he had declared that he should vote against the resolution. What an uneasy summer must these men have together? For he hoped the right honourable gentleman would follow up his resolution by moving that it he presented to the Prince; and he thought it impossible, after a question of such importance was submitted to the Prince Regent by parliament, that his ministers should not advise him to adopt the recommendation. He should not detain the House from the triumph of this day. On the head of his right honourable friend (Mr. Grattan) must rest and accumulate all the glory and honours of the victory. By the right honourable gentleman (Mr. Canning), had the immediate stand been made; but to his right honourable friend must attach the ultimate glory.

thought the House could not but accede to the present Resolution. The security that should be given to the Protestant Church was all that remained to be determined; and that was an after consideration.

said he rose with no disposition to avail himself of the privilege of a reply; but he was aware something would be expected from him, if not in answer to those who had opposed his motion, at least in the way of acknowledgment to those who had supported it: and first, his acknowledgments were due to him who had first raised his powerful voice in his own country, in behalf of his oppressed countrymen, and had, since the parliament was removed to England, illustrated the cause he supported by some of the finest specimens of eloquence which had ever been heard in that House. To the hand of that right hon. person should he willingly resign what remained of this contest. If he had been happy enough to succeed in removing something which stood in the way of success, he was amply recompensed by the gratification of his own feelings. But he confessed that although he would gladly see the completion of the work left to the hands of the right hon. gentleman; he would be still more gratified to find it taken up by the executive government, as it would be in their power to conduct it to the most favourable termination. He agreed that there were various ways in which administrations might have been formed more calculated to do good than the present. He thought that there might have been administrations, which, along with this question, could have carried questions essential to the existence of the government, and which could even have re- conciled the public to submit with more resignation to the exigencies of the times. Administrations which might have assured us of the means of peace, and of the sustainment of war! But still he hailed the prospect of the vote of this night as the first step towards better times, and he augured this not alone from the support which his motion had received, but from the feebleness of the arguments against it. The noble lord had entertained the proposition before the House in the most candid and liberal manner; but a right hon. gentleman had been pleased to term it crude and undigested. How was it so? Was the principle of it obscure? He hoped and trusted it was not. What had the House been at for the last three years? They had frequently discussed the subject, and had always greatly differed. To reconcile those differences, or to draw them within a narrow compass, would be highly desirable. The present Resolution was not meant to overturn the Protestant establishment, but to strengthen it by admitting to a participation of the principles of the constitution, all those who had hitherto been excluded from it. If the right hon. gentleman supposed, that he (Mr. Canning), had any views which he had not explained, let him expose them. He hoped, however, the House would take the motion as it stood, and not be led astray by such arguments as had been adduced by the right hon. gentleman.—If the House only carried the question so far as to declare they would take it into consideration next session, it would be impossible the executive government should be out of that question. It might as well be contended, that in speaking of the duke of Marlborough it could be forgotten that he was a general; as to say, that the only recess in which this Resolution could not be known was his Majesty's cabinet. From various reasons it was not his intention to follow up the present Resolution, if it should be carried, in the way he had originally proposed, namely, by presenting the same to the Prince Regent; but it was his intention, in the first instance, to move that the Resolution be communicated to the House of Lords, and their concurrence requested to it. If they should be so fortunate as to obtain the concurrence of the other House to their Resolution, then they could go up to the Prince Regent with redoubled certainty of success. This, indeed, compared with what they had hitherto experienced, would be a contrast highly to be desired. Such must be considered as a bond of cordiality, peace, harmony, mutual good will, and corresponding happiness.

General Mathew's Amendment to Mr. Canning's motion was negatived without a division.

The House then divided on the original Resolution—