in presenting a petition from Aylesbury, in favour of Catholic Emancipation, observed, that it was very respectably signed; and that no signature was to it but that of a voter. The noble lord then contrasted the manner in which this petition was signed with that in which a petition of an opposite nature was got up; and observed, that it was not hawked from door to door, nor were any unfair practices resorted to to procure signatures. The noble lord then described the manner in which the other petition was sent about, and added, that he did not believe the feelings of his constituents were such as had been described, with respect to this question. However, on this as on every other public question, he would act as he had ever acted, without reference to the opinions of his constituents, and do that which his conscience told him was his duty. That his constituents did not find fault with him on that ground, he had reason to believe; but if they did, the remedy was in their own hands, for he would not hold the trust they had reposed in him, longer than they should please to give him their confidence.

said, that the feelings of the freeholders of Aylesbury were decidedly against concession to the Catholics: for out of four hundred resident in the town, upwards of three hundred had signed the petition to that effect.

thought the opinions of the freeholders were pretty nearly balanced on the question.

presented a petition from Maldon, in favour of the Catholic claims. He said, he was authorized to state, that it contained the genuine feelings of those who had signed it. No influence of any sort had been used to obtain signatures. He might say, that the friends of the measure before the House, in the county of Essex, had abstained from making any exertions in favour of it. Petitions in abundance they might have had; but they were content to leave the measure in the hands of the government. They were satisfied with the measure itself, and knew that the government was strong enough to carry it into a law. It had been argued by a gallant admiral, one of the members of the county, that the number of petitions he had presented were evidence of the sense of the county of Essex being against concession. But this was a fallacy. Those who were opposed to the measure naturally sent their petitions to the House; but those who were in favour of it were satisfied with the course taken by government, and had no occasion to send petitions.

said, there could be no doubt that the opinion of the great body of the county was against concession.

corroborated this statement.

believed, that the feeling of the majority of the county, whether for concession or not, was, that the measures now before the House should be left to the uninterrupted sense of the legislature. This was the feeling, not only of the higher and more intelligent portion of the county, but of the yeomanry and trading classes. He had two petitions from the county to present in favour of it, and he regretted that he had even these two, and that the parties did not leave the matter to the legislature. He would not enter into the question, but merely observe, that having sat in that House nearly forty years, he had never given a vote with greater pleasure than that which he should give that night in favour of the measure before the House, which he firmly believed would have the effect of effacing from our Statute-book those penal laws which were a disgrace to them. So far from this measure endangering our Protestant establishments, he firmly believed, that no measure that ever passed, since the expulsion of James the 2nd, had tended to give them greater stability.

expressed his regret, that he had not been in the House when his noble colleague presented the petition from Aylesbury. He was sure that that petition had not been confined to the hundred of Aylesbury. There were not forty Aylesbury names to it. What the feeling of that neighbourhood was, might be ascertained from the fact, that he had presented a petition from Aylesbury, signed by six hundred and eighty householders.

presented a petition against Catholic emancipation, from the Protestant Dissenters of London and its vicinity. It had been rendered necessary by a petition which had been presented on a former evening, and which purported to speak the sentiments of a majority of the Protestant Dissenters of London. The petition which he had to present was signed by ninety-four dissenting ministers, of whom nearly all presided over large congregations. He mentioned this to prove that the majority of the Dissenters were not in favour of Catholic emancipation.

, in answer to the observations which had just been made by the noble lord, begged leave to say, that there was a regular assembly of the Protestant Dissenting ministers of London and its vicinity, which had long been recognized as the representative of the Dissenting ministers of various denominations in the neighbourhood of the metropolis. He meant to say distinctly, that the peti tion which he had presented, emanated from a regular assembly of such ministers, convened in the ordinary way; that such assembly was the representative, not merely of the sentiments of the Unitarians, but of the Independents, the Presbyterians, and the Baptists, and that it was a recognized body of very long standing. There might be persons calling themselves Dissenting ministers in London, of whom he had never heard; but he affirmed, beyond all fear of contradiction, that the assembly of Dissenting ministers was recognized as a public body, and that these petitioners might have joined them if they pleased. They had not done so; and therefore he had a right to consider the petition which he had presented as the act of the Protestant Dissenting ministers of London.

said, he had heard with great surprise, and not without some indignation, an assertion which had been repeatedly made in that House, that the great mass of Protestant Dissenters were favourable to Catholic emancipation. Now, as to the Dissenters, he would say, that all sects of them, except the Unitarians, were opposed to this measure for breaking in upon the constitution of 1688. Yes, Jews, Quakers, Baptists, and Methodists, were unanimous in opposing further concession: and he had that morning received a letter from a Protestant Dissenting minister, who was one of his constituents, couched in the strongest terms against these claims. The secret of the society of which the hon. member for Norwich had spoken, and of which he believed him to be the head, was this—that Unitarian influence had of late years obtained the upper hand there. The other Dissenters were in such a predicament, that they were afraid of the influence of that mischievous and not Christian sect [Cries of "hear," and "no, no"]. That mischievous and unchristian sect had obtained, by their activity and their arts, a dominance in that society, which he trusted it would not long maintain. They had got possession of those charitable funds, which prevented those from asserting their rights who, under other circumstances, would not be slow in asserting them.

presented a petition from one hundred and forty-seven thousand Irish Protestants, against any further concessions to the Roman Catholics. Among the petitioners were to be found many members of the resident peerage, magistracy, and gentry of Ireland, the mass of its Protestant yeomanry; and last, though not least, the mass of the honest and independent Protestant population. The hon. member, after eulogizing the petitioners as some of the wisest, best, and most independent men in Ireland, proceeded to inform the House, that it was their calm, deliberate, and conscientious opinion, that the evils of Ireland would not be removed, and the dangers which threatened it would not be averted, by yielding to the demands of the Catholics. The petitioners looked forward with dread to the passing of the measure recently introduced into parliament. If carried, it would be received with a spirit of insolent triumph by the Catholics, to which he was certain the Protestants of Ireland would not submit. It would lead to feuds, disturbances, and collisions, which would end in the emigration from Ireland, of the best and most industrious part of its population. For these reasons, as the measure would paralyze the strongest arm of England, the petitioners prayed the House not to grant to the Catholics the political privileges which they had formerly asked as a boon, but which they had recently presumed to demand as a right.

denied, that this petition ought to be considered as representing the sentiments of the Protestants of Ireland. As a proof of the validity of this denial, he referred to the declared opinions of the great landed interest, and to the fact, that on the late division against the Catholic question, out of the hundred Irish members, only sixteen voted on the adverse side, and of these sixteen, seven were members of close corporations. He also contended, that the Protestants were as much aggrieved as the Catholics, in being the objects of an odious and impolitic ascendancy. He gloried in this measure, because it would give to England a united, not a divided people, and wrest from bigotry the strong hold of intolerance, which was fatal to the internal peace of the country.

denied, that this petition spoke the sentiments of the Protestants of Ireland, and referred to its signatures as a demonstration of that fact. He showed that these petitioners depended solely upon the power of England to maintain their ascendancy, and they, did not disguise their determination to do so, at the risk of a civil war. He contrasted this petition with the Protestant declaration in favour of civil and religious liberty, and asked any man who looked at both to decide upon their comparative respectability.

acquiesced entirely in all that had been said regarding the loyalty of the Protestants of Ireland; but he begged leave to convey, in a very few words, his simple and emphatic protest against this petition, with one hundred and forty-seven thousand names being considered the petition of his majesty's Protestant subjects in Ireland against the measures now in progress. He was not prepared to tell the hon. and learned member for Dublin who were or were not opposed to the proposed bill; of his own knowledge he could state nothing upon that point; but he was in possession of information, that the petition was coeval with the foundation of the Brunswick Clubs, and that it emanated from those societies. By the courtesy of the hon. and learned member, he had been favoured with a view of the contents of the petition, and it struck him, that its terms confirmed the information he had received. The wording, in fact, was consistent with the origin, and it was especially directed against a Society which, in the teeth of the argument of the hon. and learned member, he must say had ceased to exist—he alluded to the Roman Catholic Association. It certainly was not an inference to be drawn from the petition, that those who had put their names to it were opposed, as a body, to the measures of government, to the declaration from the Throne, and to the advice given by the king's responsible ministers. He was the more inclined to believe that no such inference could be fairly drawn, from the knowledge of a circumstance which had reached him that morning. In one of the Catholic provinces—Limerick—a petition had been proposed at a numerous meeting of the Brunswick Club: that petition was directed against the measures of government; but it so happened, that some of the most influential members of the Club, whose names need only be mentioned to obtain for them immediate respect from every body acquainted with that part of Ireland, refused to sign the petition, alleging, that they had originally met to form a Brunswick Club for self- defence, under the peculiar circumstances of the country; but that, under present circumstances, they were not prepared to resist the measures of government. Their object was, to protect themselves against the encroachment of the Catholic Association, which no longer had any existence. Into the merits or demerits of that society, he was not prepared to enter; but in what he had said, he begged to be understood as not wishing to impeach the characters or motives of those who had signed the petition about to be brought up, any more than he was desirous of impeaching the motives of the hon. and learned member, which he was sure were as pure as possible. Without presuming to dictate, he might perhaps be allowed to say, that it did happen to be his opinion, that sometimes too subtle a distinction had been taken between those who undersigned and those who understood petitions. He had only risen to protest against taking the petition as that of the Protestants of Ireland generally, against the measure now in agitation.

said, he had a number of petitions to present against further concessions to the Roman Catholics, from different parts of England and Scotland. They were petitions which, not to speak disparagingly of other documents of a similar nature, were not cast in a common mould, but expressed the unbiassed feelings of the people on this important subject. The hon. member proceeded to enumerate the petitions, and amongst others mentioned that one was from the clergy of the archdeaconry of Bath, and had attached to it the signatures of fifty-seven clergymen; another came from the Presbytery of Linlithgow, and expressed an opinion, that the first inroad on the constitution would be attempted by means of an attack on the Established Church of Ireland; and added, that though the petitioners were Presbyterians, they considered it their duty to support that Church as the bulwark of constitutional Protestantism. Another petition was from the Senate of Ayr, agreed to by a large majority of its members, who had the care of the religious instruction of five hundred thousand persons. After repeating a long list of petitions from Scotland, the hon. gentleman declared it to be his opinion, that a vast majority of the people of Scotland was decidedly opposed to further concessions to the Catholics. Among the English petitions was one from Knaresborough, which complained of the people of this country being taxed for the support of the Popish seminary at Maynooth.

said, he would not admit that the majority of the people of Scotland and England were opposed to the measure brought forward by ministers. He believed that the great mass of the people did not wish to interfere one way or the other, but left it to parliament to exercise its discretion on the subject. He held rather cheap some of the petitions that had been presented with respect to this question. He himself could obtain petitions on the subject from half a dozen neighbouring villages, and whichever way he pleased.

thought the hon. member for Oxford went too far when he declared his belief, that the opinion of the majority of the people of Scotland was against the Roman Catholics. He recommended to the hon. member's attention the account of a meeting which had lately taken place at Edinburgh, at which nearly every person, distinguished for intellectual acquirements, wealth, rank, and respectability, was favourable to the removal of Catholic disabilities. He likewise recommended to the hon. member's attention the speech delivered by Dr. Chalmers—a speech containing as excellent a specimen of wisdom and eloquence as he had ever read. In it the reverend speaker stated his opinion, that there were great numbers of contents and likewise of not-contents upon this question; but he added his decided conviction, that the great body of the people were perfectly quiescent with regard to it, and did not apprehend any danger to our existing institutions from the measures now in progress. So much for the sentiments of the people of Scotland; in reference to which he should take Dr. Chalmers's opinion in preference to that of his hon. friend, the member for Oxford. As little could he believe that the majority of the Protestant Dissenters in this country were opposed to the Roman Catholics. He admitted that here, as well as in Scotland, there existed a difference of opinion on the subject; but he felt satisfied, that the majority of intelligent persons among the English Dissenters were in favour of concession. He had lately presented a petition from a body of Dissenting ministers, that bore out this view of the case. The hon. member had alluded to the propriety of making no further grants for the support of the Roman Catholic College of Maynooth; and he was not much inclined to disagree in opinion with his hon. friend. upon that point. If a strong opinion were to be expressed by the people of this country, that it was not right to make a provision for the maintenance of that seminary, he, for one, would feel disposed to yield to it.

said, he held in his hand a petition from some of the inhabitants of Liverpool in favour of the Roman Catholic claims. He had every reason to believe that this was the first petition which had been presented to the House from that great and opulent town. When he said, however, that the petition came from a great and opulent town, he should also observe that it was not numerously signed: it, in fact, bore the signatures of seventeen persons only; but those persons were all of that class which, it must be admitted, were most competent and best able to form a correct and proper judgment of the good or evil which might result from the proposed measures of government respecting the Roman Catholics. They were seventeen out of about forty, which constituted the number of the officiating ministers attached to the Established Church in Liverpool and its immediate neighbourhood. They stated, that they were fully aware of the benefits which had arisen to the country from a Protestant government; but added, that, on looking at the present state of Ireland, they were clearly of opinion, that some alteration in the laws imposing civil disabilities on the Roman Catholics would be advisable; and they then expressed their satisfaction, that, under the oath prescribed in the proposed bill, there would be a full security to the Established Church. He admitted that there were many persons in Liverpool who were decidedly opposed to any thing like emancipation; but, at the same time, he thought the larger portion were quite content to leave the measure to the wisdom of parliament. The inhabitants of Liverpool were undoubtedly better able than any other place in the kingdom to judge of what would be beneficial to the Irish people, and he was happy to state that the greater portion of the inhabitants entirely concurred in the measures now brought forward by ministers. He begged it to be understood, therefore, that, if no petition had been before presented from Liverpool in favour of the claims, it was not because they were indifferent to it, but because they placed entire reliance in the wisdom of parliament.

said, that his right hon. colleague had mistaken the purport of the petition. So far from being favourable to the claims, it was directly the reverse. The hon. member had, no doubt, been misled by the circumstances which attended the getting up of the petition; and he would explain why another petition had not been presented, which was got up at the same time. The petition now presented was signed at a meeting of thirty-three clergymen belonging to Liverpool and the immediate neighbourhood, and of these, thirteen objected to a petition altogether. These thirteen were subsequently joined by three others before the petition was sent off. The thirteen who first objected were of opinion, that an additional oath should be administered to the Catholics before they were admitted to power; as they had no reliance on that prescribed in the proposed bill. His right hon. colleague had said, that there would be no other petition presented from Liverpool. The truth was, that a petition, signed much more numerously than that now presented, had actually been got up, but was not presented to the House, because it was thought, after the manner in which the proposed measure had been received, that any further petitions in that quarter would be useless. His constituents, however, had addressed a letter to him, expressing a wish that the petition should be laid before the House of Lords, and he had accordingly given it to lord Eldon for that purpose. With respect to the general opinion of the inhabitants of Liverpool, he believed, if the whole of the town were canvassed, at least two-thirds of the population would be found to entertain feelings hostile to the proposed bill.

moved the order of the day, for the second reading of the Roman Catholic Relief Bill.

rose, and observed, that as he had not delivered his sentiments upon the question of concession to the Catholics, either in the course of the former discussions, or upon the presentation of a peti- tion, he should take leave to offer a very few words upon the motion now before the House. It was not his intention to adopt the course pursued by some professional gentlemen, members of that House, who were in the habit of reverting to the constitution, as it existed in the year 1688. It was not, in his opinion, what had taken place in 1688 that they were called upon to consider. They were now in the year 1829; and they were called upon to determine what, under the altered circumstances of the period, was to be done with regard to Ireland. The question, in his opinion, lay within a very narrow compass. They were called upon to do one of two things—to restore peace to Ireland by wise and temperate conciliation, or to put down all resistance and remonstrance by the power of the sword. He apprehended, that there would be little difficulty in deciding which course it would be politic to adopt; for he apprehended there were few prepared to contend, that to answer remonstrance by the arm of the military power, was consistent with the spirit of the constitution. Few, indeed, who recollected the rebellion of Ireland, and those scenes at which human nature shuddered, would wish to renew them, or to see the Protestant armed against the Catholic, and a foreign army called in to increase their animosities, and prolong their dissentions. Whenever he had permitted himself to consider this question, it had always occurred to him, that concession to the Catholics never could be made with advantage, except as an act of the government; and that, however large the majority by which it might be extorted from the government, there would still remain a something calculated to excite disunion and create discontent. He had heard a good deal of securities connected with this question. To him the securities contained in the bill appeared to be quite sufficient; but, if they were not considered satisfactory to the other party, he should like to hear from the opponents of emancipation what were the securities they considered necessary.—Referring to the question of oaths, he had always considered that, in this country, there was great virtue in an oath; and he never could be brought to believe that the honourable, high-minded, and liberally-educated Catholic gentleman could bring himself to approach the table of the House and take an oath, the conditions of which he did not mean to fulfil, as truly and as strictly as any Protestant in the kingdom. If there were any persons who imagined that there was less security in the oath of a Catholic than of a Protestant, he could tell them, they were not so well acquainted as he was with the principles of those highly-educated and upright Catholic families, from whom representatives might be taken. He thought, too, that a great additional security to the Protestants would be derived from the return to Ireland of those noblemen and gentlemen who had abandoned their properties in the day of dissention, but who would now be induced to return and use their best efforts to perfect that system of harmony and reconciliation recommended by the government, while the Catholics themselves would see the necessity of uniting their efforts for the protection of those rights and privileges with which they were now to be invested. The hon. gentleman concluded by expressing a hope, that however honourable members might feel it their duty to oppose this measure at present, they would, when it had passed into a law, abandon the spirit of resistance, and labour to promote that kindly feeling among the Protestants which must secure a correspondent feeling of gratitude in the breasts of the Catholics.

said, he would take that opportunity to state very shortly the reasons which induced him to oppose the further progress of this bill; and he was the more desirous of doing so, because he had been unfortunately deprived of the opportunity of stating his opinions, in the course of the former discussions, by indisposition. If he was a man likely to be influenced by personal considerations in the discharge of his public duties, nothing could be more easy for him than to follow that course which had been once charged against him as an offence, and to give a silent vote upon this question as a record of his sentiments. He felt, however, that there was a duty paramount to every other consideration, and in the performance of that duty, and in the fulfilment of the trust reposed in him by his constituents, he now presumed, humble as he was, to offer a few observations. Without dwelling upon the difficulties in which he, in common with a number of the members of that House, was placed, with reference to the conduct of the members of his majesty's government, whose principles they had always supported, he could only say, if he might be permitted to allude to himself, an humble individual, that he had always laboured to do that which was right, and to act up to those principles which he professed; and under that feeling, and continuing in that course, he felt it impossible to accede to the measure now proposed by his majesty's government, merely because they had thought proper to change their opinions upon the subject of the state of Ireland. Looking purely to the fact, that they had changed their opinions, he did not see, as a consequence, that he was called upon to assent to what they now proposed. If he had heard any good reasons advanced for the change which was contemplated in the constitution of the country, he, from the respect he felt for the members of that government, and from the confidence he reposed in them, should have been among the first to view their proceedings in the most favourable light; but he confessed, that he had not heard any thing from the right hon. Secretary, or from others, which did not seem rather calculated to evade a reason, than to afford an apology for the alteration of their opinions. There might be secret reasons for the conduct of the government, and he had no doubt there were such; but he, who was not in the secret, could not see any thing in those reasons which were stated to authorise this important concession to the Catholics. He repeated, that he had confidence in the right hon. gentleman and his majesty's government, but that confidence was not great enough to induce him to part with the constitution.

He would now proceed to examine those reasons which the right hon. gentleman had detailed to the House, as having operated upon his mind to produce a change of opinions,—opinions which, be it remembered, the right hon. gentleman declared he had not abandoned, which he professed to hold unchanged, but which he thought it necessary to modify, under the new and peculiar circumstance in which he professed to be placed. The reasons which the right hon. gentleman alleged for the change of his opinions were three—the state of Ireland, the position in which he was placed with reference to the House of Commons, and the disunion which existed in the cabinet. These appeared to him, one and all, to be unsatisfactory. With reference to the state of Ireland, that was nothing new. He repeated, that Ireland was no more disturbed now than it had been at any former period. He had attended to all that the right hon. gentleman had advanced upon that subject, and he was prepared to prove, that the state of Ireland had been much more disturbed upon many other occasions, than it had been during the past or present year. He was prepared to prove, that the right hon. gentleman had admitted, that discontent and that disturbance, at the very moment he resisted all concession to the Catholics; and if he resisted all concession, amidst all the discontent and disturbance which existed formerly, he must be prepared to prove a much greater degree of discontent and disturbance than he had already done, before he could justify the concessions to the Catholics which he now proposed. Ten years ago the pressure of necessity was much greater; and, according to the right hon. gentleman's reading, the danger was therefore much greater than at present. Without going further, he might refer to the expressions contained in a speech of a noble lord Plunkett, then Attorney-general for Ireland, who, in the year 1822, in prosecuting the unfortunate actors in some of the lawless transactions which then took place in Ireland, drew a picture of the state of society much more highly-coloured than any they had heard from the right hon. gentleman, and declared, that the Catholics of Ireland were united in a body for the suppression of the government. Was there any thing in the state of Ireland now which justified such a description; or had they heard any statements equal to those which were made in the year 1825, when the government called upon the parliament to pass that act for the suppression of the Association, which had expired last year? He contended, therefore, that the right hon. gentleman had totally failed in an attempt to make out a justification for the abandonment of his principles by any reference to the state of Ireland.

The next reason which the right hon. gentleman had advanced, was drawn from the state of the House of Commons. That state, however, of opposition to the views of the right hon. gentleman upon the subject of the Catholic question, had been known to him for some time past; but did the right hon. gentleman mean to say, because the parties in the House of Com mons were so nicely balanced, that that was to be made a reason for the abandonment of his principles; or did he mean to contend, that the party which succeeded in defending itself had not gained its point? If the right hon. gentleman had looked at the matter fairly, he would have found, that the division of last year was not so decidedly against him, as that of some former years; and the arguments he drew from that reason were therefore as insufficient as those which related to the state of Ireland. He believed, indeed, that if the hundred and sixty who formed the minority a few evenings ago, had been supported, as it ought to have been, by his majesty's government, the right hon. gentleman would have found himself in a majority upon that question in the present session. The right hon. gentleman complained that he has not been supported by those who voted with him upon this question. Now, he did not expect such a charge on the part of the right hon. gentleman. It was new to him to hear it imputed as an offence in a member of that House, that he sat silent during any discussion which took place in it. He well remembered the discussions which had taken place upon various occasions, and he equally well remembered the time when the right hon. gentleman retired from office, and Mr. Canning became minister. Was it, then, when Mr. Canning came into office, that the right hon. gentleman complained of being deserted? He repeated, he recollected that time well, and he could take upon himself to say, that no minister ever retired from office with so powerful, and so respectable, a body of supporters. Nothing, therefore, certainly excited greater surprise in his mind, than to hear the right hon. gentleman reproach those supporters with having failed in the performance of their duty. The right hon. gentleman, however, said, that even then he was satisfied something must be done to conciliate Ireland. If, then, he was satisfied with the necessity of conciliation, and if he was thus abandoned by his supporters, why did he not consent to lend his assistance to Mr. Canning, for the accomplishment of that object? Mr. Canning was then all-powerful in parliament, and had been the honest and consistent advocate of the Catholics, during the whole of his political life; and the state of Ireland would at that time have afforded the right hon. gentleman a sufficient apology for adopting such a course. The right hon. gentleman, however, did not think proper to lend his assistance to Mr. Canning in 1827. He did not even think it right to make that concession last year, although he must have been sensible, that Mr. Canning could, above all men, have bestowed the boon of emancipation upon the Catholics with the best grace and with the greatest effect; and that they would have received with gratitude that concession from his government, which from the present government, they regarded as the result of policy and necessity. The charge of the right hon. gentleman, of want of support by his friends, he repeated, indeed surprised him. He should apologize for obtruding his personal feelings on that charge; but he still must say, that it was little expected by him. It was seldom that a member of that House had to apologize for his silence; yet, if he had thought that any thing he could have offered in support of the right hon. gentleman's former line of policy would have lent him the least aid, he would not now be charged with not having spoken; as the right hon. gentleman could not but know. The right hon. gentleman had no right to taunt him and his other hitherto steadfast supporters with having given a silent vote; for he well knew he could command their most strenuous services.

The right hon. gentleman had also remarked on the meeting which had been held in the county which he had the honour of representing, on the subject of concession to the Catholics. There was something ungracious in the right hon. gentleman's allusion; for, in holding that meeting, those who called it thought they were giving the right hon. gentleman their best support. As the representative of that large county he stood in that House; and he would inform the right hon. gentleman, that when himself and his constituents in Kent thought it right to express their opinions on any question affecting the constitution, or their rights, they would take leave to act as they pleased, without consulting the right hon. gentleman.

The next reason advanced by the right hon. gentleman for changing his conduct was the evils consequent upon a divided cabinet. On examination, that, like the preceding reasons, would be found to have neither force nor novelty. Was the present cabinet more divided on the Catholic question, than any other of which the right hon. gentleman had been a member? On the contrary, was it not much less so? If the noble duke at the head of it had pursued an opposite course to that which he had adopted, was there a doubt that there would be no disunion on the subject? To be sure, a right hon. and gallant member of that cabinet (sir G. Murray) had stated, that though he had never expressed his opinion, nor voted in favour of the measure, he was always a supporter of it. He had no doubt that such was the right hon. and gallant secretary's honest opinion; but it was not too much to say, that as he had not expressed it, and as he always believed that the measure would only be successful when brought forward by the government, he would not create a disunion in the cabinet by his single opposition, if the noble duke had determined on refusing concession. The present constituents of the cabinet being considered, the argument of a divided administration on the Catholic question fell to the ground. The case was different when the right hon. members for Liverpool and Inverness-shire, and the noble member for the University of Cambridge (Mr. Huskisson, Mr. C. Grant, and Lord Palmerston) formed part of the administration. Then, indeed, the argument might have some weight; but when, through some unfortunate mistake, they retired from office, and the noble duke had filled their places with men selected by himself, he thought the argument of a divided cabinet was at an end. Those grounds, then, he thought, did not justify the charge of the right hon. gentleman; and, without pretending to say whether consistent with the course pursued by hon. members, in his mind did not touch the question. He repeated, he had heard no new reason to induce ministers to act as they had done, however consistent their present conduct might be with the opinions their opponents had maintained, and the right hon. gentleman had contended against. Upon this point, he could not help referring to statements made on a former occasion. It was asserted by the hon. and learned member for Winchelsea, not then present, that the question was strictly political, and not at all a religious one. He was not surprised at that declaration, as coming from that hon. and learned member; for it was consistent with the opinions he had al ways advocated in that House; but, the case was very different when the declaration was considered to be made by the right hon. Home Secretary.

That right hon. gentleman had, as he and other hon. members had, contended, that the question was altogether a religious one; for that if there were nothing in the doctrine of the Roman Catholics incompatible with their admission to political power, there certainly was no thing in their conduct as subjects. The objection was to the religious tenets, not to the political conduct, of the Catholics. Their admission to the civil advantages of the constitution was founded on the incompatibility of their religious opinions with the safety of that constitution. That was the line of argument hitherto maintained by the right hon. gentleman. Indeed, not many months ago, in 1828, the right hon. gentleman had laid down explicitly, as the ground of his hostility to concession—"Can I leave out of the account," said the right hon. gentleman, in the very last session of parliament, "the pernicious tenets of the Roman Catholics, fraught as they are with evil to the institutions of civil society?" But now the question was altogether political with the right hon. gentleman. He, however, begged leave to tell him, that with a large body of the people of this country, the question was exclusively religious. In making that declaration, he did not mean to argue that the Pope was anti-Christ, nor to enter into the lists with the hon. and learned member for Winchelsea, as to the question being wholly political, or partly religious; all he meant to state was, that a large body of the people of England considered it to be an exclusively religious question. That they had some grounds for considering it so, he thought there would be little difficulty in showing. What did Dr. Doyle say? Speaking of the Catholic church, he says, "these are the considerations which attach us to the Catholic church, without the authority of which it would be impossible to prevent a variety of opinions amongst different persons, and the several classes of men—without that authority, it would be impossible to keep men together in one large and extensive religious communion. What was there to guide and restrain the opinions and feelings of the ignorant and stupid of mankind, but the authority of the church?—what was there to prevent us from fal ling into heresies and schisms, but that authority?—what was there to prevent us from relapsing into those paths of error from which Christ has rescued us, but that authority?—what was it that kept us up to this day in Ireland free from those frantic opinions and wild vagaries on the subject of religion, with which the other parts of this empire are inundated, and which have split the people there into numberless sects, but the authority and coercion of the Catholic church?" These were the opinions of Dr. Doyle. That prelate wanted but the civil power of the state, to attempt to coerce the Protestant people of these countries into a servile submission to the doctrines and tenets of the Church of Rome. Where were the securities which they would give them against such spiritual interference and domination? for surely it was not to be maintained, that the paltry securities afforded by the present bill were sufficient for such a purpose. He would repeat, what he had said, that there was nothing in the private character or conduct of the Roman Catholics, which would prevent him from admitting them to political power: he warred not with the men, but with their principles. He objected not to their character, but to their religion. He firmly believed that the Roman Catholic religion and the Protestant religion could not coexist together upon an equal footing. He was firmly convinced that "of these two religions"—to use the words which had been employed by the right hon. secretary himself on a former occasion—"one or other must have the ascendancy." These were the very words of the right hon. gentleman himself on a former occasion, when he opposed those measures of which he was now the advocate.

There was another point of view in which this question had been argued, and he would say unfairly argued, by the supporters of concession. In the course of this discussion they had been told, that if they were not satisfied with the course which had been adopted by his majesty's government, it lay with them, the opponents of this measure, to tell them what they ought to do? Why should they be called on to tell his majesty's government what they ought to do? If the government were wrong, did they require a monitor to advise them, on a question of such vital importance to the state? and if they were right, why did they call for suggestions from any side, or any quarter? It was rather a new state of things, that with regard to the Catholic question, the executive government should call for such an opinion from them. He was not at all aware that it was incumbent on them, the opponents of the measure, to answer such a question. He would beg to remind the House, that the right hon. secretary and his colleagues, who put such a question to them, had come down to the House with a measure already prepared for them—they had come down to that House which was said to be a deliberative assembly, and had told them, that the measure which they had prepared for the purpose must be accepted, or that the country would be plunged into a state of civil war. If it were actually proved, that the country was in such a situation as had been described by the right hon. gentleman, they, the opponents of this bill, could only answer the right hon. gentleman's question in one way; but before they returned him that answer, it would be necessary for him to afford a little more proof as to the actual state of the country. For his part, he believed there was no more chance of a rebellion in Ireland at the present moment, than there had been for several years past. They were now asked, what ought the government to do? If that question had been put six months back, they would have been then in a different situation: they would have been more competent now to return an answer, and it was only fair that so much time should have been given them for deliberation and reflection. If the government had not taken the country by surprise, they would now have a proper answer to their question; and he would tell the right hon. gentleman, that under such circumstances he should probably have been disposed to go a great deal further than many of those gentlemen around him, and should very likely have been disposed to withhold nothing from the Roman Catholics but seats in parliament. He was perfectly well aware, that such an arrangement would never satisfy the advocates of the Roman Catholic question, nor the Roman Catholics themselves. He was perfectly well aware, that agitation would still be kept up—that they would still continue to hear of division and disunion, and that there would be still, to use the language of the right hon. secretary, a Catholic question in Ireland [hear, hear]. Would any one say, that if the present measure were carried, there would not still be a Catholic question in Ireland? He conceived that the right hon. gentleman had taken a wrong course for putting an end to the Catholic question in Ireland; and he would add, that the right hon. gentleman, in the course which he had adopted, had taken the House and the country by surprise. That fact was beyond dispute, and he was sure that any gentleman on that side of the House, who would place his hand on his heart, would be obliged to declare, that the measure which had been brought forward by the right hon. gentleman was a great deal better than any that the Catholics could by possibility have expected, and a great deal worse than the Protestants had ever been led to anticipate.

There was another subject upon which he wished to offer a word. Much had been said respecting the Coronation Oath. He would not now pronounce an opinion on that subject. All he would say was, that there was a strong opinion prevalent out of doors, that the Coronation Oath stood directly in the way of the head of the government giving his consent to the passing of this measure. That opinion was materially strengthened, in the minds of the people of this country, in consequence of the opinion which had been expressed by his late majesty on the matter, and the decided and unequivocal terms, in which that opinion was declared. How that question would now be decided, he would not take upon himself to say; but he could not avoid remarking, that there was a time when that question weighed strongly upon the minds of many members in that and the other House of parliament. But he would ask them for a moment to consider the painful situation in which the Protestant monarch of this country might be placed by the removal of those barriers which stood in the way of the acquisition of political power by the Roman Catholics. He for one had considered that point deeply: it had weighed strongly on his mind; and he only wished that it had weighed strongly on the minds of his majesty's ministers. He would say for himself, that if they were to have a Protestant monarch in future, God forbid that he should be surrounded by Catholic councillors! True it was, that the lord chancellor of England must still be a Pro testant, and no doubt the Protestant church would continue to enjoy safety and protection at the hands of lord Lyndhurst, the present chancellor. But then the first minister of the Crown might be a Catholic. There was, to be sure, some mighty contrivance, by which a commission was to be established, in order to prevent the premier minister of the Crown from disposing improperly of the church patronage, and under that act, at all events, the minister of the Crown would be enabled to give them somewhat more information than they now possessed as to the disposal of that patronage.

There were other parts of the bill upon which he felt disposed to dwell, were it not that he had already detained the House too long. He felt, in common with a large portion of his countrymen, the great importance of the measure now under consideration, and he must confess that he was not able to view that measure without great dismay and consternation. If, however, it should pass into a law, there was no man who more anxiously desired than he did, that it might accomplish all the good which was anticipated from it by its votaries and advocates. But as he firmly believed that it would never effect such good, he should give to it his most decided opposition. Much had been said here and elsewhere as to the prospects of parties and a dissolution of parliament; but though he differed with the right hon. gentleman on this question, he still felt that he might again be placed in the situation which he always occupied in that House, and it was not therefore likely that he should be disposed to give utterance to any opinion against ministers which was the mere ebullition of temporary violence or feeling. At the same time he was compelled to say, that in consequence of the course which had been recently adopted by the right hon. gentleman and his colleagues, a feeling of great distrust had been created, as to the conduct and motives of public men. The right hon. Secretary might endeavour to explain the consistency of that portion of his conduct which he would take the liberty to say, appeared to him to be utterly inconsistent and at variance with his former political life: that explanation might be attempted by the right hon. gentleman, but that confidence which had been hitherto accorded to public men had received a blow from which it never would recover—"Nusquam tuta fides." A general, feeling of distrust pervaded the minds of all men on this subject. The character and reputation of public men were of the highest importance to the state; and it was therefore to be regretted that in consequence of the course which had been recently adopted, public men would be henceforward viewed with a jealous and suspicious eye by the nation at large.—He had stated the grounds upon which he opposed the present measure: he opposed it because he did not think it pregnant with those advantages which its advocates anticipated from it. If it should pass, he for one would do all in his power towards accomplishing those effects which the promoters expected it to produce; but as he did not think that any good effects were likely to flow from this measure, he felt it his duty to give it his decided opposition.

said, that he stood up under circumstances so peculiarly similar to those of his right hon. friend beside him, to address the House, that he trusted that his hon. friend who had just sat down would pardon him while he entered into a somewhat detailed reply to the speech of that hon. member. He did not rise to complain of the course which his hon. friend had thought proper to pursue on this subject. He was firmly persuaded that his hon. friend had been actuated by the most conscientious conviction of the propriety of the course which he had adopted. In return, he would only ask of his hon. friend to allow to him and his right hon. colleagues, the same sincerity of opinion, in adopting the course which they were at present pursuing, and to give to them the same measure of justice which they were ready to accord to himself, in reference to the line of conduct which he had now adopted. He should regret much that the measure which ministers had felt it their duty to introduce into that House should induce his hon. friend to withdraw his confidence from them; and he should regret still more if it were the occasion of giving rise to a feeling of distrust in the conduct of all public men. They could console themselves, however, by the reflection, that they had been solely influenced in the introduction of this bill, by conscientious motives, arising from the exigency of the measure, and the necessity of adopting the course recommended from the throne; and they could further console themselves by the reflection, that the period was not far distant when the advantages of the course which they were now pursuing would be so apparent, that even the hon. member himself, actuated by that sincere desire which he had always displayed to promote the interests of the country, would be the first to retract the opinion which he now expressed regarding the course adopted by the government, and to congratulate the House and the country upon the peace and tranquillity which it had produced.

His hon. friend, the member for Kent, had fallen very much into the error which had been exhibited on the part of many hon. gentlemen who had preceded him on that side of the question. The hon. member did not deny that there was something in the circumstances of the country at present of peculiar danger: he admitted that this was a period of great difficulty to the state, and to the government; but, like the other gentlemen who had preceded him, he forbore to point out the course which he would recommend for adoption at the present crisis. His hon. friend had attempted to defend himself against this imputation, and had stated his reasons for not complying with that expectation; but he was convinced that those who had heard the arguments which his hon. friend had brought forward, must have perceived that they were utterly inconclusive, as far as regarded the subject matter of the present discussion. The hon. gentleman had asked, whether it was not the duty of the government to come down to parliament with a measure for its adoption, instead of asking for advice as to what course they ought to pursue. He would just beg leave, in reply, to put it to the hon. member, whether the course adopted by the government in this instance had been similar to that line of proceeding of which he complained? On the contrary, they recognized dangers, from the existence of which they had arrived at the determination that now was the period when, for the safety of the empire at large, the Catholic question ought to be settled. They had now arrived at a decided opinion on this point, which was the more entitled to credit, as it was at complete variance with the opinions which they had formerly entertained on this question. They had brought forward the present measure, feeling that it was necessary for the security and tranquillity of the country; and when his hon. friend opposed this measure, he would say to him, that if he admitted the dangerous circumstances in which the country now stood, and if he refused to assent to the measure now under the consideration of parliament, he should be prepared to advise the adoption of some other course, more perfect and better adapted for meeting the exigencies of the existing crisis. It was upon that principle that they had called upon that hon. gentleman to state his opinion on the subject; but the hon. member had fallen into the error which had been committed by so many of those who had gone before him; he totally overlooked that point, and addressed himself to matters of comparatively minor importance, while the whole strength of his argument, if it possessed any, went to prove, that the course which had been pursued by government, if not the most perfect or unobjectionable, was at least one for which it would be difficult to find an adequate substitute.

His hon. friend had stated, in the course of his speech, that the question now before the House was not a political but a religious question. Now, in all the arguments which he (the chancellor of the Exchequer) had, on different occasions, addressed to the House on the subject, he had never maintained that this was a religious question. He had always stated, in the discussions on this question, that it was for the House to consider how far the character of the Roman Catholic religion was such as to render Roman Catholics admissible to political privileges. He had uniformly argued, that there were considerable difficulties in the existing state of things, and that it was possible that those difficulties might arrive at such a pitch as to leave them no alternative. Hitherto he had always asserted, that they had but to make their choice between two evils; and, on former occasions when this question was discussed, he considered the complete exclusion of the Catholics a lesser evil than their admission to political power. If on the present occasion he took a different view of the subject from that which he then took of it, the considerations which had induced him to do so would be found completely to justify the line of conduct he had adopted, in company with his right hon. friend near him, in bringing forward the measure now before the House. He should not enter on a detail of the politi cal evils which had impressed on his mind the absolute necessity of that measure; nor should he destroy the effect of the able and eloquent speech of his right hon. friend, by attempting to describe, after him, the evil consequences arising from a nicely-balanced parliament, and a divided government; but he could not avoid offering some remarks upon some of the objections which had been raised by the hon. member for Kent, against the arguments that had been adduced by his right hon. friend on that occasion. That hon. member said, that he saw nothing in the state of Ireland, at the present moment, different from what had been observed there for many preceding years—that there had been no great increase of crime, or outrage, or of those general combinations which so frequently displayed themselves amongst the peasantry of that country. The hon. member cited the period of 1822, and had referred to a speech of the then Attorney-general, lord Plunkett, to prove his assertion. But, did his hon. friend recollect the occasion on which that speech was delivered? The Attorney-general had prosecuted certain individuals who had been guilty of a great offence. They had combined, under the sanction of an illegal oath, for the purpose of destroying Protestant property, and sacrificing Protestant life; and his right hon. and learned friend, who was then Attorney-general for Ireland, represented the evils of such an abominable institution, and called upon the jury, before whom the prisoners were tried, with all those powers which so peculiarly belonged to him, to visit them with that condign punishment which was so justly due to their crimes. That limited evil, he believed, no longer existed; but it had been succeeded by other and greater evils in the political state of Ireland. The hon. member for Kent said, that no change had taken place in the circumstances of Ireland. It was perfectly true that crimes and outrage did not so generally prevail in that country now; but was the hon. member ignorant of the increased exasperation of party feelings and party prejudices in that country?—was he aware of the fact, that in Ireland, at the present moment, the whole frame of society was disturbed by the political differences of contending parties—that each man was arrayed in hostility against the other, and that it required the interposition of a military force to preserve the peace and tranquillity of that country? He could assure his hon. friend, that the present state of Ireland was far different from that which it presented at the period to which he had directed the notice of the House, and that it was such as to demand the serious attention of the administration of the country; not merely for the purpose of punishing those who might have offended against the laws, but if possible of removing the causes which had led to such a state of things. Even admitting, with the hon. member for Kent, that there was nothing new in the state of Ireland, did that hon. member think that there was no danger in an evil which was continually increasing? Did he see no increase of the danger in the continued progress of the disease during a series of years? Did he perceive no additional danger in the prospects that presented themselves from the progression of that disorder until it had reached every individual in the country, and had well nigh broken up the very foundations upon which society rested? If the hon. member would admit that, in the progress of the disorder, there might be cause for additional alarm, he imagined he would also admit that the evil had at length reached to such a pitch as to require the most serious attention of the government, and imperiously to call for the application of some remedy.

But the hon. member contended, that this was a religious question, and he quoted from the speech of his right hon. friend beside him, the statement, that one or other, the Catholic or the Protestant religion, must have the ascendancy. On that point, he entirely concurred with his right hon. friend; and he would say, that that was his justification for the course which he had adopted in reference to this question. He would unhesitatingly assert, that the measure which had been recommended from the Throne to parliament, had mainly for its object to make the Protestant religion the ascendant. It had been his fortune to have been intimately connected with the established church in Ireland. He had been an observer for some years of the actual circumstances in which that church was placed; and all those circumstances had strongly impressed on his mind how necessary the proposed change was for that church and religion at the present moment. The state of parties was such in that country, that some change was absolutely necessary. If his hon. friend, the member for Kent, were aware of the position in which the established church of that country at present stood in regard to the Roman Catholic population, he would at once admit, that some great measure like this was necessary, even for that establishment itself. The Church of Ireland occupied a peculiar situation. It was the religion of the minority of the people; the great majority of the people professing a different faith. Up to rather a recent period, harmony and good-will prevailed amongst the professors of those different creeds. But there had lately arisen in that country a combination, which extended itself throughout every class of the Catholic community, with an organization unexampled in other countries, or amongst other political societies, and whose principal hostility was directed against the established church. The support of that church mainly depended on the purity of its doctrines, as evinced in the character and conduct of its professors; also on the good-will and affections of those from whose religious opinions it dissented; and it depended further upon the uniform and steady support of parliament, and of the Protestant government of the country. He had the pleasure of knowing a great number of the clergy belonging to that church, who resided in Ireland. When he first went to Ireland, he could truly state, that the clergy of that church, though placed in a position of considerable difficulty, had succeeded, in a great degree, in conciliating the respect of the Catholics of that country. In many instances he had observed that a friendly and kindly intercourse existed between the Protestant rector of the parish and his Catholic congregation—that the Catholics exhibited towards him the greatest respect—and that they were ready, frequently, to defer to his opinion. It would give him sincere gratification if he were enabled to say, that such a happy state of things still continued. But, by whatever means it had been brought about, they must acknowledge, that an important alteration had taken place in the feelings and opinions of the Catholic population in Ireland, in reference to the established church; and it was certain, that their prejudices and their hostility had been actively excited against that establishment. The change which had taken place between Catholics and Protestants was obvious to every one; and it was only necessary, in proof of what he asserted, to draw the attention of the House to the productions which emanated from the daily press, on the subject of the church and its revenues, to refer to the laborious efforts which were made to excite a hostile disposition against that church amongst the Catholic population, and to the effects which a continual agitation, carried on upon such a system, produced upon the minds of the Catholic people of Ireland. His attention had been directed to this subject for some time back; and allusions were made to the altered state of feeling amongst the Catholic population, in various letters which had reached him from different parts of Ireland, all complaining, that the Protestant clergy were not now viewed with the same respect by the people as heretofore—that the people regularly combined against the payment of the church dues, and that there existed no hope whatever of securing their affections for the future. Was not that a situation in which it was at least unfortunate for the country to be placed? It was to remedy such an unhappy state of things, that his majesty's government had adopted the course which they were now pursuing. They conceived that the present measure was calculated to smooth down the asperities of party violence, to diminish the irritation, and in a great degree to remove the prejudices of the people, that they could be thus brought again to treat the ministers of the Protestant church with that respect and attention to which their character and virtues so eminently entitled them; and that it was only under such circumstances, that that church could be employed as an important engine in the moral improvement of that people. He took the established church of Ireland to be the means of the moral improvement of the people of that country: he viewed it as the happy source from which would flow those streams that would fertilize and enrich the land. That church had for many years great difficulties to contend against: it had had to contend against the hatred which a difference from its doctrines was calculated to generate, and to counteract those prejudices and that ill-will, which was excited against its professors and ministers. In the petitions which were presented to that House, frequent complaints were made of the situation in which that church was at present placed. He would call the attention of the House to a petition from a Protestant clergyman, which had been presented a few nights ago to the House, in which it was stated, that the Catholic population of Ireland were united against the Protestant establishment and the Protestant clergy; and that such combination had been most systematically acted upon recently, under the pretence of seeking for civil and religious liberty. A petition to a similar effect had been presented from the Protestant clergy of the city of Dublin. It was obvious that such evils arose from the present state of things. It was true that these and other petitioners prayed for the interposition of the legislature to afford them some more effectual protection than was afforded under the existing state of things. Upon that point he differed from them, and was firmly convinced, that the measure now before parliament was the one best calculated to afford them the protection which they required. It should be recollected, that the Protestant church in Ireland mainly depended on the contributions of a Catholic population. Several laws had been passed to render the collection of the church-rates perfect, and to prevent their evasion: but, latterly, against the collection of those rates there had been formed a combination, not of one or two persons in a parish, but of the whole population. He would read a letter from a Protestant clergyman of an extensive parish in Ireland, which would put the House in possession of some curious facts on this subject. The right hon. gentleman here read an extract of a letter from the Protestant rector of a parish in Ireland, descriptive of the difficulties which were at present experienced in the collection of the church-rates. The writer stated, that the greatest difficulty existed in collecting those rates; that they could only be collected by taking proceedings at law; and that when the subject was brought before the magistrates at petty sessions, they availed themselves of every means which the act afforded them, to decree against the church; that there was no way to procure those rates but by an expensive litigation; that the expense of the repairs of the parish church, which had been made within the last three years, had not as yet been defrayed; and that the salaries of the clerk and sexton remained unpaid. When such was the state of things, was it not absolutely necessary to introduce some remedy? The indisposition to pay the church-rates arose, not, as the hon. member for Kent might imagine, from a mere spirit of hostility to the established church. That indisposition was produced by the divisions which existed between Protestants and Catholics in Ireland—divisions which the present measure was calculated to remove, and thus the established church of Ireland would at length be placed upon a solid and secure basis. When the state of the community, as it had so long previously existed, was such as he had described, did it not supply a reason for adopting another course—a course which would probably have the effect of harmonizing the public mind?

But, he would ask, did not the church of Ireland suffer also from other causes operating in that distracted country? Did not the church of Ireland suffer deeply from the divisions which prevailed in that island? He was sure, from the observations which he had heard in that House, that the church of Ireland was placed in a situation in which that church ought not to stand, and from which it would be rescued by this measure. He hoped, by the removal of that cause which had so long occasioned disunion and ill-feeling, to reduce men to that moderate temper which would make them willing to listen to the dictates of reason and justice; and he was sure, that, in proportion to their improvement in this respect, they would be ready to give to the clergy a greater degree of support and consideration. He was one of those who looked upon this measure without apprehension. He conceived that it would open the way to feelings of general reform and improvement. These were the effects that he trusted would follow from the labours in which the legislature were at present engaged. They were called on to decide, whether they would bear the present system any longer, or adopt another; even though it might seem to be connected with some remote, possible, and contingent dangers? For his own part, he thought the wiser course would be to adopt that which his majesty had recommended to parliament. That course, it appeared to him, was the best for vindicating the character and the honour of government—that course, in his opinion, was the best calculated for supporting the Protestant Church of Ireland and of this country— that course was the most likely, as it seemed to him, to keep up the predominance of the Protestant religion. The circumstances in which he was placed rendered it incumbent on him to state what his sentiments were; and the impression on his mind was, that the state of the established church required a change of measures, with reference to this great question, that would beget confidence and disarm hostility.

said, he was anxious, at that early period, to state his opinions with respect to the proposed measure. He like many other honourable members, who were determined, so far as in them lay, to support the existing institutions of the country, was desirous to vindicate himself for the part he had taken. There might be some who thought that the opponents of this measure would be overpowered by the struggle which was about to take place; but, whatever obloquy might be heaped on the comparative few whose sentiments he espoused, still he would be found zealously acting with them,—still he would be found content to take his share of the obloquy that might be cast upon them. He repeated, that he was ready to take his full share of that obloquy, knowing that he should be amply repaid by the good-will which was manifested in the general voice of the country. He did not wish at that moment to put himself too forward in debating this question: he knew that it was now introduced to the House, under auspices very different from those which attended it on any former occasion. Those who opposed the measure of his majesty's government, could not conceal from themselves, that the body who were favourable to concession had, in one great name, a tower of strength—a name which he would be the last man to attempt to deteriorate, or of which he would say any thing save that which was honourable: they possessed that tower of strength, which it was impossible to move or to assail, except by the means of supplication and prayer; but, armed with these weapons, those who objected to this measure had still time to approach the throne, where he was sure they would meet with affectionate consideration and paternal kindness. While touching on this topic, he begged leave to say a word as to the manner in which petitions were received and treated in that House, He recollected an hon. friend of his, on the opposite side of the House, whose character he greatly admired, to have observed, that the extraordinary number of petitions which crowded their table ought to have ensured for them at least an ordinary degree of reception. Now, he was of opinion, that the greatness of the number of petitions laid before the House, ought to have procured for them a more than ordinary degree of reception. He regretted very much, that, when petitions were presented, that sort of scrutiny, which he had so often observed during the discussion of this question, had been resorted to. It might well have been spared on such an occasion. He had examined, with the most scrupulous care, the sentiments which he held on this deeply important question; because, when he found that those for whose opinion he formerly entertained, and did still entertain, a very profound respect—when he found that they had seen occasion, notwithstanding their previous feelings, to alter their opinion, it appeared to him like something almost approaching to presumption to differ from them. He had therefore, most scrupulously weighed his opinions, and he must honestly say, that he could perceive no fallacy in them—he could not perceive that they were, in any respect, founded in error. He had listened attentively to all the gentlemen who had addressed the House on this subject; and he must say, that he had listened with some surprise to the right hon. gentleman who had just delivered his sentiments but he had heard nothing of sufficient weight to induce him to alter his opinion. He had heard the admirable speech which the right hon. Secretary of State for the Home Department had delivered: he had followed, with lively interest, all the arguments with which the right hon. Secretary's strong and vigorous mind supplied him, to account for his having altered a course that he had so long pursued, and to embrace a change which, in many respects, must have been most painful to him; but he confessed, that none of the arguments which the right hon. Secretary had advanced satisfied his understanding.—He might here be permitted to advert to some of those circumstances with respect to the present state of Ireland which his right hon. friend had put forward as the grounds on which his change of opinion rested. He knew that the situation of Ireland was much to be de plored; but he did not understand his right honourable friend to say that Ireland was in a worse state than it had formerly been; he did not understand his right honourable friend to assert that it was in a state of aggravated danger, as compared with other years. His right hon. friend admitted, that the evils of Ireland were not evils without remedy. He said, that remedies might be supplied;—but only remedies of a temporary nature. Now his view of the matter was, that the present measure was only a remedy of a temporary nature. There would still be grievances to complain of, after the passing of this measure, if grievance were supposed to consist in distinctions, and above all, if grievance were identified with ascendancy. His right hon. friend said, that this was a bill for supporting the Protestant ascendancy—that the main point that reconciled his mind to the measure was, that it was a bill to benefit the Protestant ascendancy, Now, he could not look at it in that light. He could not fairly consider it as a bill for securing the Protestant ascendancy: but, looking to the pretensions of the Roman Catholics, they might view it as a measure that would assist that body in obtaining the ascendancy. They did not, indeed, at once give up all their rights to the Roman Catholics, but, by agreeing to this bill, they afforded them the first stepping-stone for acquiring every thing they wished for. That this bill would put an end to the complaints of those who were anxious to gain every thing that could be obtained, he did not believe; and, on that ground, he viewed it as merely a temporary measure. The question, then, was, whether any temporary good that might be effected by it was worth so great a sacrifice? He was decidedly of opinion that it was not.—He now wished to make one or two remarks with reference to the observations of the chancellor of the Exchequer, as applicable to the existing state of the church establishment in Ireland. He confessed that he heard the statement of the right hon. gentleman with a considerable degree of surprise. He set out with informing the House of the peculiar situation in which the church establishment was placed; and he expatiated on the very great difficulties that it had to contend with—the whole of which statement he believed to be indisputable. The right hon. gentleman then informed them, that in consequence of this untoward state of things, the church establishment in Ireland depended on the constant aid and assistance of government. Why, then, let gentlemen suppose a Roman Catholic at the head of the government. What would then be the consequence? Did the right hon. gentleman view the question in that light? He believed that those who proposed this measure did not bring it forward without mature consideration. He believed they had found the best remedy that could be found for the difficulty which they wished to remove; but still it was not such a remedy as he could approve of. To meet any objection, they had devised this remedy—that when the prime minister, happened to be a Roman Catholic, all power connected with the established church should be rested in the hands of commissioners. But who was to appoint the commissioners? Why the prime minister. It was to be sure, declared by this bill to be a misdemeanor of a very high degree for the prime minister to give advice with reference to the disposal of church property; but there was nothing to prevent him from naming those who might give advice; so that, in fact, there was no effectual bar to prevent him from disposing of church patronage. He might here, if it were necessary, define to the House what were the prerogatives and privileges of a prime minister; but that was unnecessary, because a reference to late years would sufficiently show the powers, prerogatives, and privileges of a prime minister; and they could not have forgotten how much in the year 1827 those powers and prerogatives were debated. It was sufficient to say, that there was a degree of influence connected with the situation of prime minister—of which he himself might be ignorant—which led individuals to do as they conceived would please him. Sunshine could not be divested from the sun, neither could that influence of which he had spoken be removed from a prime minister; and if he were known, by report, to have particular opinions, whether he usually spoke of those opinions or not, his power was sufficiently great to induce individuals to endeavour to win his approbation, by flattering, supporting, and carrying into effect those opinions. There were many difficulties connected with this question that were not removed by the provisions of this bill. He was satisfied that if better securities could be found, they would have been found; for he believed the minds of those who formed the measures were strongly directed to that point. He, however, was of opinion, that the bill contained no security adequate to meet those fears and apprehensions which were entertained by conscientious persons. He was aware that a trifling security was devised for the protection of the Irish church. The Irish Roman Catholic ecclesiastics had, in a very assuming and insulting manner, arrogated to themselves the titles belonging to the dignitaries of the Protestant church in Ireland; and a clause to prevent that assumption was introduced in this bill. But the objection he had to that clause was, that he did not wish to purchase any security of that kind at the price of a violation of the constitution; and why?—because they had already got a security on this head, by law—a security accompanied by infinitely higher penalties than were now given. An hon. member might tell him, that the act of 1781 or 1782 was not now in force; and perhaps he could not argue so well, with respect to Irish statutes, as the hon. member. But, he had looked at the statutes to which he had referred with great care, and he thought that the provision of the acts of 1781 and 1782 bore him out in his statement. It was there set forth—"Provided always, that no protection in this act contained shall extend, or shall be construed to extend, to any Popish ecclesiastic who shall assume or take any title whatever, or who shall proceed with any insignia to any public place of worship whatever; but that all the enactments relative to such proceedings, which are at present in being, shall remain in force against such Popish ecclesiastics as aforesaid." Under this provision the Popish ecclesiastics were liable to punishment. Then came the act of 1793; and the question was, whether the act which he had recited was repealed by the act of 1793? It certainly was not repealed in express terms; and it was to be inquired how far, by implication, it might be supposed to have been repealed. But, looking to the recital of the act of 1793, he could not conclude that, it was meant to repeal this provision. The 33rd of George 3rd, cap. 92, recited, "That whereas various acts of parliament have been passed, imposing on his majesty's subjects professing the Popish or Roman Catholic religion, certain disabilities to which other subjects of this realm are not liable," &c. Now, if any hon. member could show him that Protestants were not precluded from assuming, unless regularly elected, the title of "bishops"—if it could be proved to him, that a Protestant was not punishable for such an act, then he would admit that there was a repeal of the law. But here disabilities to which other subjects of this realm were not liable, were clearly spoken of; and the assumption, without right, of an ecclesiastical title, was no more allowed to a Protestant than to a Roman Catholic; therefore he concluded the statute of 1781-2 was not repealed. But, the enacting clause of the act of 1793 only went to put Protestants and Papists on a certain degree of equality, by allowing the latter to vote at elections. It admitted them to do that, but it did not permit them to take the titles of bishops and deans. If his hon. and learned friend, the solicitor-general for Ireland, held a different opinion, he must bow to it; but, in his opinion, the act of 1793 did not affect the security given by the act of 1781-2. They all knew that the Roman Catholic ecclesiastics had, for a long time, gone under the titles of archbishops and bishops; but still he believed, that, up to the present hour, the act from which he had quoted was in force. He conceived that his right hon. friend, the chancellor of the Exchequer, had reasoned badly, when he assigned the complaints of the Protestant ecclesiastics of Ireland as a reason for granting concession. It appeared, according to his right hon. friend, that there was a growing determination not to pay tithes, and a growing disposition to show no regard or respect to the clergy; and these circumstances were adduced as proofs of the necessity of granting these claims. Now, he could not see that circumstances like these should, of all others, force them to proceed to acts of legislation of a very critical character. His right hon. friend, the Secretary for the Home Department, had dwelt on two topics, which deserved, as he stated, very particular consideration in deciding on this question. He had examined them, but he could not bring his mind to the same conclusion as his right hon. friend had done. His right hon. friend had, systematically, for some time back, alluded to the discrepancy between that and the other House of parliament, with respect to this subject, and urged it as a reason for agreeing to this measure. Now, it should be observed, that the majority in that Houser with respect to the Catholic question, was very small and fluctuating. It was the result of all inquiry applied to this subject, that the opinions of the House of Commons were very nearly balanced. But, was that the case with respect to the other House? Were opinions there nearly balanced? No such thing. Last year there was a majority of forty-four voices against the Catholic claims. This being the case, was it reasonable to suppose, that the body which had always shown a considerable majority against concession when that House could only boast of a trifling majority in favour of it, would now give way? And, even admitting that there was a decided majority in the House of Commons, was that a reason for supposing that the discrepancy would no longer exist, and that the House of Commons must prevail? Such an assumption did not appear to him to be, in the smallest degree, conclusive. Under all the circumstances he had stated, he must object to this bill. He feared that he must ask leave of his hon. and learned friend, the solicitor-general for Ireland, to introduce the subject he was now about to notice; because he knew that his hon. and learned friend, did not like to hear any mention made of the constitution of 1688. But he should not be doing his duty, if he did not strengthen his argument by a reference to what had passed at that great epoch. He would, in words much better than his own, state, by reading an extract from the declaration of the prince of Orange, what appeared to him to be the intention and meaning of those who established the constitution of 1688, and who at that period took into consideration this very question of securities. He alluded to the first declaration of the prince of Orange, published when he landed, and which formed the foundation of the Bill of Rights. He was aware that his right hon. friend admitted that the alterations now proposed were an innovation on the constitution, as fixed at that time, but others thought differently, and he particularly solicited their attention to the following extract:—"It is likewise certain," said the Declaration of the prince of Orange, "that there have been at divers and sundry times several laws enacted for the preservation of those rights and liberties, and of the Protestant religion; and, among other securities, it has been enacted, that all persons whatsoever that are advanced to any ecclesiastical dignity, or to hear office in either university, as likewise all others that should be put in any employment, civil or military, should declare that they were not Papists, but were of the Protestant religion, and that, by their taking the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy, and Test: yet these evil counsellors, have in effect, annulled and abolished all those laws, both with relation to ecclesiastical and civil employments." Again—"They have also followed the same methods with relation to civil affairs; for they have procured orders to examine all lords-lieutenants, deputy-lieutenants, sheriffs, justices of the peace, and also all others that were in any public employment, if they would concur with the king in the repeal of the Test and the Penal laws; and all such whose consciences did not suffer them to comply with their designs were turned out [loud laughter], and others were put in their places [laughter], who they believed would be more compliant to them in their designs of defeating the intent and execution of those laws which had been made with so much care and caution for the security of the Protestant religion." The Declaration having recited various other evils proceeded thus:—"So we now think fit to declare, that this our expedition is intended for no other design, but to have a free and lawful parliament assembled as soon as it is possible. And that the members of parliament being thus lawfully chosen, they shall meet and sit in full freedom, that so the two Houses may concur in the preparing of such laws as they, upon full and free debate, shall judge necessary and convenient, both for the confirming and executing the law concerning the Test, and such other laws as are necessary for the security and maintenance of the Protestant religion." And gentlemen would find the following words, referring to that great Declaration, in the Bill of Rights—"To which demand of our rights, we are particularly encouraged by the Declaration of his highness the prince of Orange, as being the only means for obtaining a full redress and remedy therein." He had said, that he should offer these extracts as something more valuable than could be expected from himself; and certainly those passages were worthy of serious attention. The Declaration showed, that the principles contained in it were not lightly taken up. Whether wrong or right, those who promulgated and supported them attached to them a very high degree of value. These measures were well considered and dis cussed, and ought not to be carelessly dispensed with. Two years after, these very penal laws were, by the very same government, and by the very same king, extended to Ireland. The act of the 2nd of William and Mary made the Test Act applicable to that country; and if hon. members would take the trouble of looking to different acts, in the very same reign, they would find a constant recognition of those laws which they were now called on to abrogate. After, the very great indulgence he had experienced from the House, he felt that he should not be justified in trespassing further upon their time. He hoped that he had not expressed himself with unbecoming warmth upon the subject. Strongly he had certainly expressed himself, for he felt strongly upon the question; and every sort of opposition which he could fairly and honourably make to the measure he would make.

said, he ought not, perhaps, to have offered himself to the House, when others who had so much better claims upon their attention had not yet spoken; but at the present moment, when the fate of this mighty empire was—if he might be allowed the expression—poised upon this question—when those fetters which had so long restrained the energies and crippled the resources of Ireland were about to be burst asunder, and when the people of Ireland were about to vindicate themselves from the charge of incapacity to receive moral improvement and civil liberty—at a crisis like this, he felt that he should be wanting to himself, unworthy of the position in which he stood, and unworthy of the name he bore, if he could contemplate the possibility of assisting at the sealing of the destinies of his country by a silent vote, or suffer this opportunity, which he hoped would be the last, to escape him, without giving expression to those conscientious feelings in which he had been cradled, and which it was his boast, his pride, his glory to entertain. After the endless, and unhappily for a long time fruitless, tide of eloquence, with which the greatest orators had attempted to swell the channels of public opinion—after that splendid galaxy of talent which had exhausted its powers on this subject—when the views of those enlightened statesmen who were now no more had at length been admitted to be sound and just, and expedient—and when the labours of such men were now about to be "with surpassing glory crowned," little could be effected by an humble individual like himself, unless, indeed, it was to attempt to moderate the triumph of the one side, and the too great bitterness of the other, which were both of them calculated to mar the beneficial consequences which must, under any circumstances, result from this measure—he stood there the humble representative of the most Protestant county of Ireland, Ulster. He would not descant upon the blessings they enjoyed. They were happy—they were opulent—they were rich; there was nothing to drive them from their fire-sides—they were grateful, moreover, for these blessings, and they wished that Providence would continue to them the perpetual enjoyment of them. If he were asked—"For what reason is it that you are—that that portion of Ireland is—particularly marked out for those enjoyments; and that you boast yourselves to be, as it were, a peculiar people?"—he answered, the reason was this, they had no restrictive laws—they were oppressed by no restraints; no disabilities had cast a withering blight across their path, and they had learnt from youth to age this lesson—that they were free to do every thing the laws did not prohibit. If, moreover, he were asked, "Are you willing to exchange these certain enjoyments—will you consent to barter this state of happiness for an ideal change?" his answer would be equally brief. It was an old saying, that a man grew rich in proportion as his neighbours thrived; and prosperous, happy, opulent as they were, they had not yet arrived at that degree of happiness which could only be attained under liberally-constituted laws. Besides—and this part of the argument had considerable weight in his mind—could it be supposed that this state of exclusive prosperity would last for ever? Could they fortify themselves, if he might be allowed to say so, in the citadel of their self-contained resources, so strongly, as to be able to turn a deaf ear to the complaints of their fellow subjects, and deny to them the enjoyment of those privileges, in the free extension of which national union and concord, and therefore national strength, existed? It was well worth while to consider if this were practicable; but it was better worth while to consider if it were wise. He confessed that he was totally at a loss to conceive why the Catholics were not equally deserving with themselves of privileges. They were men like ourselves, animated by the same desires, and possessed of the same feelings and faculties as we were. Would it be said, that they were differently constituted from us?—that they were less patient, less enduring, or less gifted with active virtues than we were? If not, how then had they deserved the sentence of banishment which we had pronounced upon them? How had we acquired the right to pronounce that sentence? Or, which was more to the purpose, if we had the right, and if they deserved the sentence, could we be sure that the sentence could be any longer enforced?—It had been asserted that night—and he confessed he was inclined to agree in the assertion, that this was a political and not a religious question. He spoke under correction, but certainly he had never been able of himself to discover any reason for considering the question as a religious one; and certainly those hon. gentlemen who contended, that such was the character of the question, had not made out the position in any of their speeches which he had happened to hear. He did not pretend to profound knowledge of polemical divinity; but if he did possess such knowledge, he should not come there to rake up and rekindle the ashes of polemical discussions, or raise what he might call the ghosts of arguments which ought to have been long since forgotten, or which if remembered, ought at least not to have been revived in that House, and much less when such a question as this was before them. They had not met there to dispute respecting the tenets of the Roman Catholic church; they were not met for the purpose of entering into discussions upon the intolerance, the bigotry, or the superstition of the Roman Catholic church. These questions had been long since set at rest. Many years had elapsed since they had repudiated the tenets of the Roman Catholic religion, and attached themselves to the venerated, the beloved, the cherished doctrines of the Protestant church. They were not met to talk of the dominion of the Pope, to protest against the supremacy of the Vatican, or to detail the benefits which would result from the suppression of the order of the Jesuits. They were met there to discuss a great national question—to decide whether they should increase their national strength and political power—whether, by grafting the long-lost but now newly retrieved energies of Ireland upon the tree of our constitution, they would encourage a generous nation to become our rivals in advancing the interests and the power of the empire, both at home and abroad. If it was conversion that they wanted, they would have ten times more conversion when they had removed these galling and degrading restraints. If they would have strength, it would be increased ten thousand fold, by converting slaves into freemen. If they looked for confidence, it would spring from these perishing statutes. If they wished for happiness, let them remove the causes of misery [hear, hear]. It had been said, that the Protestant church required certain securities—that certain props and pillars were absolutely necessary for the support of that establishment, and there were safeguards and securities, without which its permanence could not be secured. He spoke with all humility, but, at the same time, with all sincerity, when he said, that the church needed no such securities as her over-anxious and injudicious friends declared that she required. The Protestant church was supported by the purity of her doctrines, by the character of her ministers, and by that bright and holy spirit of universal charity which distinguished her; but if the church could not stand upon her own merits, upon the character of her ministers, and upon the purity of her doctrines, then surely she was not worthy of that exclusive station which had been assigned to her. If, on the other hand, the church stood upon the solid rock of true religion, it needed not those disgraceful and disgusting securities which could only be purchased at the expense of the liberties of millions.—He would not enter into the wide range of discussion which a political view of this question opened. If he were to adduce the great authorities which he could bring forward in support of his argument, his task would be endless. There was one part of it, however, to which he must allude. Unless it were denied that Ireland was the weak point of our country, and that the discord and discontent prevalent among the people of that country had been at once the scourge of each succeeding government, and the source of hope to every foreign foe, it must be admitted that to see tranquillity and content restored to the shores of Ireland would remove one of the greatest difficulties of internal government, while it offered a new barrier to the enemies of our countries. It was reserved for that powerful arm which had sustained this country in a struggle as dangerous as it was appalling—which had wielded the powers of this vast empire—which had burst asunder the bonds with which Napoleon had encircled Europe, and which had raised the highest stone of the pinnacle of England's fame—it was reserved for that powerful arm to add strength and security at home, to the country whose supremacy he had asserted and established abroad. When it was proposed to unite two nations together in the bonds of amity and peace—to ratify and perfect an union which had been hitherto imperfect and unratified—to remove the causes of rancour and heartburning, and to convert national dissension into national strength; who, he would ask, would venture to oppose the good work? The pen of history would be a scourge to them, and, conscientious as their opinions might be, they were not for that the less pernicious. On the other hand, reward and fame would be the portion of those by whom this measure had been brought forward. Their present recompense would be a nation's thanks, and their memory would be famous in after ages. In this country they had nobly earned the approbation of the good, the wise, and just; and when they turned their eyes towards Ireland, they would find that they had won there the affections of a warm-hearted and grateful people.

rose, and addressed the House, for the first time, as follows:^*—

Mr. Speaker;—I rise to address this House, labouring under feelings, which would on any occasion be most embarrassing, but which are now painfully heightened by a sense of the unequalled importance of the subject under discussion, as well as by the extraordinary circumstances with which it is connected. A consideration of these, together with others peculiar to myself, may, I apprehend, incapacitate me from addressing you at all. I must, however, attempt it. The cause which demands, and at this moment, all the efforts of the true friends of the existing constitution, shall have mine, however humble, and at whatever sacrifice. I am willing, therefore, to expose myself in its service, though feelings for which the House will give me credit in first venturing to address it—feelings of proper diffidence, as well as pride, equally prompt me to be silent. I add my humble vote to that faithful band who have resigned the countenance of those whom they have hitherto respected so deeply, and to whom they have adhered so steadfastly; who have surrendered, in the language of many, all pretensions to a share of common sense or of general information; who submit to be branded as a lessening class of intolerants and bigots, from which the ministers themselves have just happily escaped; and, what is still more painful to generous minds, who are ranked amongst those that are as devoid of true liberality and benevolence, as they are of reason and intelligence. Short as has been the time in which I have had the honour of a seat in this House, I have been here long enough to perceive the spirit by which a part of it, and, unhappily, too large a one, is actuated. The spirit of Popery, when dominant—(I beg pardon for any thing so obsolete and illiberal as an allusion to history)—dragged the objects of its resentment to the stake;—that spirit still survives;—its advocates at this moment would willingly inflict on its conscientious opponents a martyrdom still more grievous to generous minds, in aiming at the moral and intellectual character and attainments of those whom they mark out as their victims. All these things, however, move us not. In a cause like that of the Protestant Constitution of England, now placed, for the first time since its existence, in a situation of imminent peril, an humble part in its triumph would indeed give me a share of that immeasurable joy which its rescue would diffuse throughout the nation; but to be numbered as one of those who, faithful to the end, made a last, though ineffectual, struggle in its defence, will afford a melancholy satisfaction, which I would not exchange for all the pride, and power, and honours, which may await a contrary course.

^* From the original edition, printed for John Murray, Albemarle Street.

Bear with me, Sir, in thus expressing my feelings: they are those of the vast mass of the British people;—not a besotted, ignorant, bigotted people, as some describe their countrymen to be; but an intelligent, a well-principled, and a religious people—the people of England;—men, who intellectually, are as competent to entertain this question as those who attempt to stultify them; and who, morally speaking., are far better qualified to decide upon it than those who malign them, inasmuch as they bring to it the lights of common-sense;—[a laugh]—and, what has lately become a far rarer quality, now also laughed at by many—disinterested principle, and, above all, religious feeling; and who, moreover, are far more removed from bitterness and intolerance in discussing it than those who are perpetually accusing them of being so actuated. It is these views and feelings, Sir, which I would rather present to this House, than weary it with any long and laboured arguments on the general question. But, before I attempt to do either, let me attend for a moment to what is made the apology for this fearful inroad on the constitution; namely, the condition of Ireland. This, Sir, I have heard stated again and again, as the sole reason for the meditated change; and it has been asked this night, and in a tone of triumph, what other remedy can be proposed? I deny, Sir, that the proposition is a remedy;—I deny that the reason is substantial. Protestant ascendancy the source of the disorders of Ireland! Why, Sir, any man who knows any thing of the history of that unhappy country—and I speak in the hearing of many who will correct me if I err;—must be well aware that the state of things now sought to be remedied, and the turbulence and the misery which it occasions, existed in a still greater degree, and produced far more lamentable consequences before the Reformation, when consequently there was only one religion in the country, than at present. Need I go over its history, reign by reign, in proof of this? No; the fact is too notorious to admit contradiction. Again, if it should be said, that the causes of discontent are now changed, I still deny the assertion; and, in so doing, I appeal to the authority of a late right hon. Secretary for Ireland, one who, though no longer in his majesty's government, is friendly to the measure now before us; who, in a speech delivered in this House, and afterwards deliberately given to the public, said, immediately after a recent and sanguinary disturbance there, that "all the commotions which, for the last sixty years, have tormented and desolated Ireland, have sprung"—from what? From Protestantism? from Protestant ascendancy? No;—"immediately from local oppression."

Sir, the mischief regarding Ireland is this: Ireland, as it respects its connexion with England, was a conquered country;—that was her misfortune; but it has been our crime that she has continued to be treated as such. Her lands have been wrested from the inhabitants, and given away from time to time to strangers, on condition that they should reside in the country, and plant and support the Protestant religion, and they have deserted both—absentees, who, owning much of the surface of the island, cruelly desert the people by whom they live, and persecute and oppress them by proxy; but who, many of them think to make atonement for their turpitude by a few cheap votes and declarations, sincere or otherwise, in favour of Catholic Emancipation. Of all the delusions which have been so much descanted upon on the opposite side of the House, can any equal this? They consign a population to poverty and idleness, where, to the disgrace of humanity, civilization, and Christianity, there is no provision whatever for the wretched victims of poverty. Into this subject I am prepared to go whenever it shall gain the attention of this House. In the meantime I assert, and will repeat again and again, that the miseries of Ireland, and even its turbulence, do not spring from its Protestant Constitution. Why, it is only a few years ago, since the manufacturing and labouring classes of this country wanted employment and bread, and demagogues told them to seek relief in Parliamentary Reform. In Ireland there is equal distress, and agitators tell the people, that what they want is Catholic Emancipation. These assertions are untrue. The people in both instances, I repeat, wanted employment and bread; and, wrought upon by designing men, they fiercely attributed their distresses to causes, the removal of which, it is my honest conviction, would only perpetuate them. The difference has been that, in one instance, you put the agitators down even with blood-shedding; in the other, you have connived at, if not secretly supported, them. But, Sir, I see in Catholic Emancipation nothing whatever proposed in favour of the mass of the Irish community—that brave, that generous, that long-suffering race, who have been alike the dupes of the mere politicians in both countries. On the contrary, I observe a proposition, unblushingly made, to rob the cottage of its long-exercised privilege, in order to add new splendor to the Catholic coronet; and this, forsooth, is to calm the country at present, and ensure its future tranquillity! It would do irreparable mischief if it were to effect this. That country never will, never ought to be calm, till the blessings of civilization and the rights of humanity are extended and secured to the lowest ranks of its society. What are you to do with Ireland? Legislate on her behalf, in the spirit of philanthropy; take with you to the task the lights of wisdom and experience;—develop her immense internal resources—hitherto unexplored, and almost untouched;—introduce in behalf of her distressed population a moderated system of poor-laws, the machinery of which the very attempt would create;—diffuse, in spite of priestly domination, the benefits of Christian tuition;—employ the starving people, who are and must be fed, but whose labours you now lose, and whose characters you destroy by consigning them to involuntary idleness and mendicancy;—and finally, while you legislate about and against the poor, dare to touch the culpable and heartless rich, the deserters and enemies of their country; and if they are dead to other and worthier motives, compel them by pecuniary mulcts to repay some of their duties to that society to which they owe their all; duties which they are disposed to pay by words only. Let them thus afford labour and food to a population never adequately employed, always suffering from want, and pushed to the utmost verge of human endurance. These, Sir, are the means, obvious and practicable, though ridiculed by theoretic folly, and resisted by inveterate selfishness, which would, and in no long time, regenerate Ireland, and repay the wrongs of many generations. But, Sir, Ireland—degraded, deserted, oppressed, pillaged—is turbulent; and you listen to the selfish recommendations of her agitators. You seek not to know, or, knowing, you wilfully neglect, her real distresses. If you can calm the agitated surface of society there, you heed not that fathomless depth of misery, sorrow, and distress, whose troubled waves may still heave and swell unseen and disregarded. And this forsooth is patriotism! Ireland asks of you a fish, and you give her a serpent; she sues for employment, for bread—you proffer her Catholic Emancipation. This, Sir, I presume, is construed to be the "taking into our consideration the whole situation of Ireland."

Turning, then, at present from the subject of Ireland, where the sacrifice of Protestantism would be a curse instead of a remedy, let us see what is the nature of the proposition, and what would be its effects, as it regards the empire at large. It amounts, Sir, to this—an inroad on the constitution of the country, and a preparatory movement towards its final destruction. Were the claims in question matter of justice, I would concede them and abide all consequences, abhorring, as I do, the principle of mere expediency, as well in politics, as in morals;—sciences which I regret to say, are rarely identified. But as, amongst all the advocates of the Catholics, no man worth attending to has attempted to argue a conventional and conditional, into an abstract and inherent right; so I shall not detain the House by offering a word in answer to those who would present the question in such a form. All the rights the constitution creates are conditional; if this imply disabilities and exclusions, the constitution of England is founded upon them. But they are such as are imposed for the general good, and they have hitherto promoted and secured it. The meditated alteration militates against the letter, and destroys the spirit, of that constitution. It demands qualifications, or, if you please, imposes disabilities, of a two-fold nature, on all whom it calls to serve the public in the legislative or judicial functions, or allows to be qualified for that service. And, first, it demands a pecuniary qualification; and that, not for the purpose of stigmatising poverty—no! this our Protestant ancestors made it their business to solace and relieve, establishing amongst their most cherished institutions a system of national and universal charity. But still, from the freeholders of England, who elect—from the members of parliament who are elected—from the legislature who make our laws—from our magistrates who administer them, and even from our juries who finally arbitrate concerning their application—it demands a pecuniary qualification; and it does so, as I conceive, on very intelligible grounds; because it appeared expedient to identify the autho rides of the country with its permanent interests; and again, and more emphatically, because the possession of property was deemed the most general, though certainly not the infallible, evidence of that information and knowledge which are so essential to the due discharge of those important functions which exist only for the benefit of all. It is thus our constitution seeks to embody, not the ignorance and passions, but the wisdom and intelligence of the community. Political radicals seek to do away with this pecuniary qualification; and for reasons which will acquire ten-fold force if the measure before us is suffered to pass. For, Sir, the constitution of England assumes a still more sacred character in demanding, secondly, and hitherto, with far greater certainty and scrupulosity, a moral qualification from all who make or administer, in the higher functions of the state, the laws of this realm. It has not only made Christianity part and parcel of the law of the land, but it has constituted its pure and reformed profession an essential ingredient in the established government; and as long as I am permitted to think that principles are the springs of practice—that Christianity is better than infidelity—that its purest and most liberal form is preferable to its most bigoted and corrupt one—so long,—in spite of the liberalism of the day, which is only another term for that spirit which strikes at the root of Christianity, aye, and in a neighbouring country soon hewed down the tree,—I presume to think it has done so most wisely. I am aware, Sir, of the hackneyed assertion first put forth by Mr. Paine, that we have nothing to do with religion as a matter between man and his God, and I subscribe to it. But that we have nothing to do with religion as between man and man, I utterly deny. To do otherwise would be to disclaim the doctrines of the Scriptures, the dictates of common sense, the experience of the Christian world, the utility of any religion whatsoever. If, Sir, the profession of Christianity in its purest form be the best guarantee for the faithful discharge of the private and social duties, it is much more so in respect to those high and important functions on which the character and happiness of millions depend; and was thus our ancestors judged and acted in founding and establishing our constitution. Nor was it with a view merely to secure to the country the full advantage of Protestantism the best and most efficient form of Christianity upon earth; but to exclude Popery—undoubtedly the worst—that they thus decided; identifying the latter, as they had abundant reason to do, with cruelty, tyranny, and arbitrary power; believing it to be detrimental to the interest and morals of the community, and having had full experience as to its tendency greatly to weaken, if not to withdraw, that allegiance which is due to the sovereign power of this Protestant empire. But the moral qualification, now termed "disabilities," is, it seems, to be sacrificed. And yet lawyers and statesmen without number, tell us this is in perfect accordance with the spirit of the constitution. I have already said, that our political radicals seek to do away with the pecuniary qualification; our religious radicals, for such they are, whatever they denominate themselves, wish to destroy the moral one. They allege that the superior light and information which have dawned upon the Romish faith have changed its character, and made it a fitting alliance for a Protestant king and parliament. But has not the same amelioration been asserted, and far more truly, regarding the unrepresented part of the British community? and yet they were dispersed and put down; their agitators were never listened to; on the contrary, they were forcibly apprehended, tried, and punished. The Popish agitators, however, were tolerated in infinitely more seditious practices, if not actually encouraged, by those who had the power to put them down, in order, as many think, thereby to make out a case for putting down the constitution. But, Sir, the very principle that our ancestors thus happily established, and which has produced such inestimable benefits to this hitherto prosperous country, is now, it seems, to be annihilated—all our securities are to be destroyed, "at one fell swoop!"

The time is come, we are told, when the question must be adjusted. Sir, the adjustment of a disputed question generally terminates in some mutual concessions, some reciprocal advantages: but here the "reciprocity is clearly all on one side." Will the authors of the measure point out the equivalents actually given in the bill before the House? There are none, unless their promises and professions may be regarded as such, which some of us have learnt now to estimate at their just value. The Protestant faith surren- ders everything—receives nothing. Even the securities, so much talked of, vanish at last into mere shadows. The measure, we are told, is satisfactory; but to whom? To the most zealous and devoted of the adherents of the Popish cause, in all the pride of its growing demands and insatiable pretensions: and it is moreover accepted as the certain presage of better things to come. But securities! The lord-lieutenancy, an office of pageantry, is, it seems, to be continued Protestant. But what Protestant cares an lot a about that, surrounded as the individual holding it will certainly be by Popish advisers. The office of lord chancellor is similarly reserved; but a Roman Catholic may be first lord of the Treasury, exercising, therefore, far greater patronage. The place of the king, as a learned lord expresses it, must, it appears, still remain Protestant; but some bigoted devotee of Rome may conquer his way to the royal presence, be his prime minister, and become "viceroy over him." But, Sir, this last reservation, I confess, heightens the objection I have to the measure into abhorrence and disgust. What! Sir, after having established by a solemn act the doctrine, that conscience ought to be left free and unrestrained—that disabilities, of the nature sought to be removed, inflict a disgrace upon the feelings of those whom they affect intolerable to good and generous minds—worse than persecution, nay, than death itself—how do you apply it? Why, Sir, you propose to sear this brand high upon the forehead, deep into the heart of your prince,—and to render the scar more visible, the insult more poignant—by making him the solitary individual whose hereditary rank must be so held and transmitted. Freedom of conscience to all subjects, but none to your king! Throw open wide the portals of the legislasture that a duke of Norfolk may take his seat in your senate, but hurl from his loftier seat there, the throne of this realm, a duke of Lancaster, if he exercise the same privilege—if he presume to have a conscience! Hitherto, Sir, the British constitution is uniform, fair, equal: it demands the same moral qualification, as I have already observed, from us all. The liberal school have long complained that these essential securities imply slavery; and the ministers, who have adopted their political creed, nevertheless, are content, nay propose, that the king should be the only proclaimed slave in his dominions. But if the bill should pass, which God avert! if no other and fitter individual should stand up in favour of the then insulted feelings of his sovereign, I will. Whether the exception is introduced to blind the eyes of some, under the guise of a security, or however intended, I will propose, that, amidst this general emancipation, the king shall not be bound—that in the very acmé of liberal legislation the king shall not receive a marked insult—that his future religious profession shall be delivered from the taint of this solitary dictation—that his conscience shall be free. I will move, Sir, an amendment omitting that clause. It may be said that the monarch will still have a choice. Certainly. And have those, in whose favour you are about to throw down the ramparts of the constitution—have they at present less?

But, Sir, this measure does not merely affect the feelings and the character—it touches the title of the king? Reverse the attainder upon popery, and the natural consequences are obvious. Proclaim the equal right and eligibility of all religions to all offices of State amongst us, ye emancipators, and remind us of those millions of subjects who demand the declaration and concession, and allude to the scores of millions who back their demand elsewhere, and, the moment the king shall sign a bill to that effect, in what position will you have placed him! While the constitution of the country stands as our revered and not hitherto rivalled ancestors framed it and transmitted it down to us, namely, strictly Protestant, excluding from power (and from power only) the devoted adherents of a cruel, tyrannous, and superstitious Church, nothing can be more clear, consistent, and indisputable than the royal title;—take away that Protestant character, nothing less so. The privileges of Protestantism as hitherto maintained, constitute the royal title-deeds of his august family, that which became the actual transfer of the estate which he holds in parliament and in the country; and in what attitude do his legal and constitutional advisers place themselves who recommend their surrender? No surrender? Who dares urge him to sign an instrument to that effect? It was this very ascendancy, now a by-word of abuse, and which I observe Mr. O'Connell exults in saying is gone for ever—it was this very ascendancy, I say, which first introduced into these realms the illustrious and patriotic line which now governs us;—which still forms at once the pillar and foundation of the Throne;—which combines its title with the very elements of our constitution;—which identifies it with our liberties;—which consecrates it with the sanctities of our religion;—in a word, which proclaims, by the unanimous suffrages of all our institutions as well as in all our hearts, George 4th as the rightful king of the first Protestant empire upon earth. It is true that the act of Settlement is yet, I believe, to remain;—an act which was with difficulty passed, and passed at last, I think, by a majority of I only; by a parliament exclusively Protestant; but it will be, of course, more zealously supported, both as to its letter and spirit, by one partly Papist.

But, Sir, I am averse, for my own part, as a matter of taste as well as of principle, from resting the royal title, which has hitherto been placed upon the broad foundation of national principle, and supported by all the analogies of the constitution, upon a mere act of parliament, or rather upon a reservation in that act—upon "inky blots and rotten parchment bonds,"—instead of the firm basis of our Protestant constitution. I am therefore persuaded, that, whatever becomes of the legal, the proposed measure touches the moral, title of the king. I feel confident, circumstanced as the succession is in reference to other heirs, whose claims the celebrated Mr. Butler has so plainly traced, that he whom the bill would chiefly affect would feel his generous heart wounded by the situation in which he would then find himself placed, in reference to rights that must morally revive, however weakly they might be maintained and enforced. For these reasons I will, as an humble individual, resist the present measure to the last. I am aware that it is said, that there is no danger where the population is, generally speaking, Protestant. I diffide in this assurance, inasmuch as I am certain that this House no longer attends to the voice of the people on this important point; but, danger or not, Sir, I am adverse from insulting a high-minded and generous prince, by practically showing him that the principle which seated him on the throne is unjustifiable, and no longer worthy of preservation;—worthy of remembrance only as an obsolete and ridiculous piece of past bigotry; though we will condescend, nevertheless, to support him now he is there. I protest, Sir, against this change. Instead of resting the title of the sovereign upon the universal spirit of the constitution, and folding his royal robe round the throne and the altar, you propose to hang it on the peg of a solitary legal exception or two—insulting in themselves, and dangerous in their consequences.

Such, Sir, is the nature of your principal securities; the right hon. Secretary has indeed said, that the petitions poured into this House, numerous and respectable beyond all former example since there was a House to receive them, afford the best security on this occasion. But he has heard his new friends, night after night, scrutinize those petitions as emanating from poverty, folly, ignorance, and bigotry. Liberal conduct! Where, then, will be this security, when this national feeling shall have been successfully insulted, damped, cried down; when it shall. therefore expire in disgust at the manner in which it has been disregarded, deserted and betrayed?

Other reasons, powerful as I think in themselves, and most important in reference to their results, press for utterance. But I will not trespass on the patience of the House by adducing them. I would rather recall to its memory those which have been delivered by the right hon. Secretary of State, accompanied by the consequences with which he so often and so ably connected them—delivered, I say, from his place, which he still keeps, I regret to add, much more tenaciously than his principles. Those arguments, however, have not lost their weight in the country, and he has now the hard task of answering them, of answering—himself. No talents inferior to his own, I speak it sincerely, would be competent to such a task. He can, however, like Hudibras, "Confute, change sides, and still confute." And his new friends assure him that this is the true, dignified, consistent, and patriotic course.

But, if I wave any further arguments on this important subject, I will nevertheless make a solitary remark upon the extraordinary nature of those reasonings which are urged in defence and support of the present fatal measure. As those arguments evidently spring from the most opposite views and motives, so are they of the most contradictory kind. Yet still they are all allowed to carry weight, though if they were pressed from one and the same quarter, they would plainly balance and negative each other. It is thus that, in this most extraordinary argument, contradiction itself is allowed to cumulate the demonstration. Thus, one party asserts, and is heard and believed, that Popery has lost its power,—that it has become quite nerveless, despicable, and inert, and may therefore, be trusted. Another, on the contrary, says, that its adherents are now so formidable in numbers, and so overwhelming in power, that its claims must be yielded. And these assertions also have full credit. One maintains that the spirit of Popery is changed and ameliorated; another, and one far more likely to understand the subject, for it is composed of its adherents, that it is unchanged and unchangeable. One, that the conduct of its professors is so excellent, peaceable, and loyal, that they merit to be admitted into power; another, that they are so united, turbulent, and factious, that it is unsafe to keep them out, and both these opinions also are gospel. One assures us that the admission of Popery into the citadel of the constitution will strengthen the Established Church; another (and it is far stronger than it chooses to avow itself at present), hopes that such admission will lead to that union with other bodies unfriendly to it, which will effect its final downfal. One would think, I say, that arguments so opposite would neutralize each other. But, no! so long as they are urged from different mouths, they are all held irrefragable. In this general attack, the arrows may be shot from different, and indeed opposite quarters; but while they are all aimed at one central mark—Protestantism,—they are the more certain to take effect and bring down their victim, the more varied the positions from whence they are discharged. Into these contradictory arguments, I say, I shall not enter at present; one, however, distinct from them all, and most degrading to the character of the country and the feelings of Englishmen, I shall just allude to. It is this; that England ought to take her lessons of liberality from the surrounding nations. In none of those countries, I not only assert, but am prepared to prove, is liberty so well understood or so largely exercised, as in this happy country; and yet England, the birth-place of freedom, its assertor, its defender, and its avenger,—the model of all the free institutions upon earth,—and where as abundant a degree of liberty is experienced as is at all consistent with its perpetuity,—I say England is by these gentlemen sent abroad on a sort of Ulyssean tour to learn the rudiments and imbibe the spirit of freedom; a political mendicant, to pick up the crumbs of liberality which fall from the tables where tyranny and superstition have been feasting for generations. But I will not dwell on this degrading consideration, but proceed to observe, that if we object to this change in the constitution of our country in itself, we resist it yet more strenuously in consideration of its certain consequences; consequences which are already but ill disguised by not a few of those who zealously support this measure. That the real liberties of the people will be put in jeopardy, I feel confident; that the United Church of England and Ireland will be placed in peril the moment this bill is passed is quite certain; as has been proved over and over again, by the very men who now support the proposition; it will and must lead to those measures, as sure as consequences result from causes, which will complete its fall. This individual Act may, indeed, recognise its rights; what may the next do, when you have reinforced the ranks of legislation by a number of its implacable and conscientious enemies? The real object of attack, Sir, as has been often asserted here, is the Establishment, or rather its privileges and immunities. The war is commenced, and it is commenced in this place. The first parallel is nearly completed,—it may point diagonally,—another will be marked out in an opposite direction, till the whole will be completed,—meantime the object of attack will be neared, till the gates of the constitution will be assailed, the breach effected, and its ancient ramparts levelled with the dust; and the final triumph will be over the most tolerant, the most learned, and the most efficient religious establishment that any country has ever yet been blessed with. And, Sir, can any man flatter himself, that even when this is destroyed, the long and uninterrupted reign of quietness and peace promised to us by our political soothsayers is to ensue? No! When this victim has been hunted down, the same pack, which are now upon her haunches, will scent fresh game, and the cry against our remaining institutions will be renewed with redoubled vigour, till nothing be left worth either attack or defence, (if indeed anything will, after this fatal measure is carried),—till all be liberalized. I see, indeed, an oath is to be administered which verbally forbids Roman Catholics who take it from overturning the Establishment; but they must be more or less than men to be enabled to keep such an oath. Totally inefficient as a security, it is immoral in its nature; it establishes a war between words and principles, between oaths and conscience; and which will finally prevail, needs no explanation.

When a number of Roman Catholics, then, shall have become seated in this House, that they shall not feel disposed to lessen the influence of, and finally to destroy a Church which they conscientiously abhor, is absurd. That they should not make common cause for similar purpose with other parties, inspired by similar views and feelings, is impossible; and though I have heard honourable members inveigh strongly against the supposition, the sure operation of adequate motives will bring about this union, and will direct its energies and its efforts against the common object of its hostility—the Establishment. Much, indeed, has been said about the weakness of such a party in point of numbers; but a party acting invariably in unison on this point will, as has been well urged, ultimately carry it, and with it, all others of vital importance. They will form the nucleus of a growing party, to whom the measures of the Crown must always be rendered palatable, and who, consequently, will so far dictate the future policy of the country. Such has been the case in past times; the most important events that have ever occurred in our history have been carried by far smaller majorities than these could form, acting together, and, consequently, holding the balance between the other different parties in the state;—need I instance the Revolution and the Act of Settlement,—deliverances which, if they could have been accomplished at all, could have been secured only by wading to the liberties of England through seas of blood, had not Popery been expelled from the legislature of the country.

But some apologies are made, some reasons given, for these portentous changes, which I shall briefly notice. And, first, it is said the time is come when this question ought to he adjusted. This the time! Of all the times in which this measure has been proposed this is undeniably the worst, because it is the latest. On many former occasions, Sir, when the present Ministers opposed this measure, the concession would have been accepted as a boon; it will be now sullenly taken as the recovery of a just but long-disputed debt; one insultingly withheld and at last reluctantly discharged. Then it would have dissolved millions into gratitude, and made a deep, if not a lasting, impression on their hearts; now it is regarded as an extorted right, conceded as a choice of evils, and will be estimated accordingly. It will, I know, be accepted; but it will derive its chief value from being the certain means of forcing fresh concessions, all of which might now be named, and none of them, I am persuaded, will be long withheld, notwithstanding the new pledges of those who have so nobly redeemed their old ones. I say, Sir, the present is the worst of all the times in which the measure has been hitherto proposed for passing this Bill of Relief, as it is called. If it be a measure just in itself, and safe in its consequences, it ought to have been granted from the first; and, I repeat, ministers are deeply responsible for not conceding sooner, if they meant to surrender at all.

Aye, but we are now told that there was previously a divided cabinet on this particular measure, and that it could not, therefore, be carried. Here, however, the reply is still plainer and more forcible. Never was there so superficial an excuse put forth. Divided cabinet!—Who were they that caused the division in the preceding cabinet but those who now complain of it, and who, as it appears, will suffer none to serve their king or country, but such as approve their altered plans, and change at the word of command! And is it for the present ministers to talk to us about the government being previously divided upon this question as the only obstacle to its adjustment; those who, less than two short years ago, were so strictly and conscientiously devoted to the cause for which I now humbly contend, as to refuse to serve with one even favourable to emancipation, and who, therefore, deserted the king in a body, painful as it no doubt was to them, rather than do so. But, Sir, are all the long and laboured explanations by which this fact is attempted to be concealed or evaded worth a straw? Long-winded orations,—"passages, which lead to nothing," can never set this matter in an honest light before the people of England. They can comprehend it as little as the question of emancipation, on which they are declared to be so ignorant and besotted. They were, however, beguiled by these explanations. I was one of them. I thought the conduct of the noble and right hon. individuals concerned a sacrifice to principle and consistency;—what it was, it is not now worth while to inquire, since it was any thing rather than that. It is now too late to rectify the error; all that remains is to regret most deeply, that, faithfully following those who have so secretly, suddenly, and unceremoniously deserted us, we were taught to regard a highly-gifted individual, unhappily now no more, as one who ought not to serve his king and country as the head of the government, because he was favourable to the measure now so indecently forced upon the country. I do heartily repent of my share in the too successful attempt of hunting down so noble a victim;—a man whom England and the world could not fail to recognise as the ornament of his age; whose eloquence was, in these days at least unrivalled; the energies of whose capacious mind, stored with knowledge and elevated by genius, were devoted to the service of his country. As to the qualities of his generous heart, let those speak to them who felt the warmth of his friendship, which, I believe, could only be equalled by its stability. Had I had the honour of a seat in this House at that time, and could I have anticipated present events, I should have conscientiously opposed him on this vital question it is true; but with feelings very different from those with which I now approach it. This was the man with whom the present ministers could not act—and for a reason which vitiates their present doings. Coupling, therefore, that transaction with the one now before us, if the annals of our country furnish so disgraceful a page, I have very imperfectly consulted them. But peace to his memory! My humble tribute is paid when it can be no longer heard or regarded—when it is drowned by the voice of interested adulation poured only into the ears of the living. He fell; but his character is rescued—it rises and triumphs over that of his surviving what shall I call them? Let their own consciences supply the hiatus.

One thing, Sir, I cannot but deeply regret, as the inevitable consequence of these strange changes, however they may terminate, namely, the degradation of the character of public men in the estimation of the people of England. Nothing can equal the astonishment with which these tergiversations have been regarded, but the disgust they have occasioned; nay, even where they have been hailed as accessions of strength, they have nevertheless been accompanied by feelings of secret contempt. Much has been said as to the question having been so long before the people of England as to render delay unnecessary. Had it been a much shorter time before the consideration of the present ministers when they rejected it? So sudden, total, and unanimous a change in a matter so long considered, seems not a little singular and suspicious. These simultaneous conversions are really disgusting,—they argue not so much a change of principle, as a total want of principle. I have nothing to do with the motives of men;—their actions however are open to animadversion; and I think I speak the language of plain English honesty when I say, that no power, however formidable,—no promises, however alluring,—no rewards, however great,—should tempt me to such a course. Were I to accept a proffered robe of nobility under any such inducements, I would take a hint from the church whose interests I should then have to espouse, and wear, in the way of penance, a shirt of hair next my recreant skin for the remainder of my life. There is, I admit, such a thing as a conscientious conversion, and I honour it. It is, however, of very rare occurrence, where opinions have been previously well weighed, and long and perseveringly maintained. But there is, Sir, a much more common thing—apostasy! And can the people of England forbear to suspect this to be the case, when they view, with dismay, these infectious conversions, and behold all ranks of men face about as at the word of command? They will, I am persuaded, look no more to the summits of society for their guides on these sacred matters,—to the gilded weather-cocks who may face to-day the pole-star of truth and consistency, and turn their backs upon it tomorrow. No! they will now learn to res pect themselves—to know and to feel that true, consistent, conscientious principle, is not to be looked for at the summit, but in the solid base of the social structure, which stands unshaken and unmoved, and keeps its just front facing all the cardinal virtues of existence. Such, taking their principles, as all true Protestants do, from a translated Bible, are not very likely to be shaken; they are immoveable amidst those infectious political conversions, which are the scandal of the age and the disgrace of the country. As an instance how deeply these political tergiversations have offended the honest principles of the people, and shaken their confidence in public men, I will just mention what occurred to me during my recent contested election. I solicited one, whose principles I learned were precisely the same as my own, and especially on this vital point. My surprise was great when he peremptorily refused me his vote, and with some heat. He declared, indeed, his warm devotion to the Protestant interest, which I assumed as a fair ground for his support, and I expressed my principles accordingly, and my determination to adhere to them. But he cut me short. "I have done," said he, "with the pledges, or principles, or promises of public men: they have apostatized—so will you. I will give no vote. David said in his haste—I say deliberately—'all men are liars.'"

But, Sir, it is these sudden conversions, apostasies,—call them what you will,—which have made up this so much boasted majority, influenced by every variety of motive, and formed of the most discordant materials. The new accessions to ministers may perhaps, however, ultimately embarrass them; otherwise those coalitions must ensue which; notwithstanding their luminous apologists, Englishmen instinctively abhor; and they feel rightly in so doing. Meanwhile nothing can be more ludicrous than the figure some cut in this political melee. "Misery," says Shakespeare, "makes men acquainted with strange bed-fellows,"—so does political delinquency. Who, for instance, would have thought the hon. member for Somersetshire and his late "talented" and astute opponent, Mr. Henry Hunt, would have been so soon yoke-fellows in the glorious cause of Catholic emancipation! and so of the rest. They, however, do agree; and I may add, in the words of Sheridan's critic, "when they, do agree, their unanimity is wonderful!"

But I will make no further individual allusions; the leaders in this wheeling phalanx I have no doubt are honourable men—so are they all, "all honourable men." One thing I am, however, bound to admit,—those who have long, consistently, and conscientiously supported this question, however mistakingly as I judge, them I cannot but respect;—the triumph at this moment is all their own. They have evidently been the leaders, and far in advance, in this march of intellect;—they it is who have taught the late converts, like one of Molière's characters, their political vowels at forty. I arraign neither the principles, nor the consistency of the opposition; it is to the new, sudden, and simultaneous converts that I allude, who, moreover, have the warmth of all new converts, and their hatred of all those who remain unchanged. Their zeal, indeed, is of so agitating and intense a nature, that, like the ingredients of a boiling cauldron, it is perpetually overflowing, and scalding all within its reach.

I am perhaps presenting principles and feelings rather than arguments to this House. I meant, I promised so to do when I was sent hither, and I have kept, and mean to keep my word. I know how dear this sacred, this deserted cause, is to the hearts and to the understandings of Englishmen. The principle may be indeed weak in this House, but abroad it marches in more than all its wonted might, headed, in spite of the aspersions of its enemies, by the intelligence, the religion, the loyalty, of the country; and if the honest zeal, and even the cherished prejudices of the people swell its train, thank God for the accession. Nay, Sir, if poverty, whose intermeddling with this question we have again heard insultingly rebuked this night, adds its affecting suffrages to the cause of religion and of God, I glory in its alliance. Poverty "nothing to do with this religious question!"—it has as much to do with it as have any of us who are deliberating concerning it; it has more; its religion is its all! But, Sir, it is an united, it is an universal cause! Here, Sir, that cause may be, like those wasting tapers, melting away; there it burns inextinguishably. It lives abroad, though this House may be now preparing its grave! To their representatives the people of England committed their dearest birthright, the Protestant constitution. They have not deserted it, whoever have. If it must perish, then, I call God to witness, that the people are guiltless! Their voices are heard, in their numerous and earnest petitions, calling aloud, as it were, for water, to wash their hands from the stain of all participation in this foul transaction! If it is to expire, I say, let it be on this spot,—the place of its birth,—the scene of its long triumphs;—betrayed, deserted, in the house of its pretended friends, who, while they smile, are still preparing to smite;—let it here, while it receives blow after blow from those who have hitherto been its associates and supporters, fold itself up in its mantle, and, hiding its sorrow and disgrace, fall when it feels the last vital stab at its heart from the hand of one whom it had armed in its defence, and advanced to its highest honours.

Sir, I am misconstrued if my last expressions imply any thing but regret in reference to the illustrious individual to whom I have alluded. None ever admired, none still admire the hero of his country more than I do. My heart partook of his first glories, and my humble adherence accompanied him in every subsequent period of his career, even when those who have now begun to adulate him heaped upon him the coarsest insults. To triumph over him, were it in my power, would inflict upon my feelings a pang which could only be exceeded by the downfall of the constitution of a country, whose fame he has so gloriously augmented, and whose greatness, if not existence, he has so nobly achieved. But, Sir, the name of that constitution again raises my mind far above all personal considerations, and I will wave them.—I will detain the House but a few moments longer, but I cannot help adding, that, of all the circumstances attending this momentous measure nothing has so strongly roused the resentment of the people, especially of that large and loyal part of them who have hitherto supported government, as the studied concealment, not to say intentional misleading, with which it has been attended throughout. This may be, and doubtless is, the proper policy when a general has to manœuvre upon an army of enemies; when, however, a great measure has to be carried with the concurrence of the friends of their country, it strikes me that openness, candour, and confidence will always be found the better and more creditable policy.

But the last, and most important consideration I shall present to this House, affects its competency to entertain this question. This House, I say, has no right to proceed in this work of counter-revolution—[disapprobation] no right, I say, to proceed without consulting the people. Send back, then, the question to them, and ourselves with it, and allow them to decide. In preceding elections (the results of which have been most fallaciously appealed to by the right hon. Secretary) it has, as by common consent, been kept from their particular consideration, since to have mentioned it, would have been stigmatized the "No-Popery" cry; and, moreover they confided, in this particular, in the express declarations of his majesty's government, and determined their choice, therefore, by other grounds of political or local preference. The Protestant constitution, now endangered, was first established in a convention, called for that special purpose; and without as full an appeal, and without equal formality, the people have no right to be robbed of it. I am fully aware of the legal fiction that parliament is omnipotent, but it is, nevertheless, a fiction. The parliament is neither called for the purpose, nor competent to the task, of altering the original framework of the constitution. Supposing, for instance, this House, in conjunction with the other branches of the legislature, were to enact that our seats should be perpetual, and not only for life, but hereditary—where is the man that will assert, that we have a right or a power given to us so to legislate? Suppose we were to agree to abolish the representative system altogether, or to take away trial by jury: I repeat the question,—Where is the man that dares assert that the power of parliament extends thus far? Where are the patriots, who are the lawyers, that challenge for us this right? But as to the Protestant character of the constitution, it is certain that our powers to change this in any degree are still more clearly and intentionally limited. We take no oaths, make no declarations, not to abrogate trial by jury, none not to alter, suspend or destroy the representative system. But we do take oaths, we do make declarations, not to allow Popery an entrance into the legislature. My oath—[a laugh] I hear a laugh! That laugh at the very mention of an oath is the just interpretation of the value of the security which the advocates of the measure now propose. My oath, too plain to be misinterpreted, has also been taken too lately to be forgotten, however that of others may be. Under these circumstances, neither the established constitution of the country, nor the oaths and declarations taken by us, permit us to assume the right which is now so eagerly sought to be exercised, namely, the right of throwing open the doors of this House to the admission of popery, to the scandal, disgrace, and danger, of the Protestant establishment in church and state. Sir, we have no lawful power for doing this; the people of England sent us not hither for any such purpose; they interdicted us by solemn oaths and declarations from daring to attempt such a course. I am persuaded they will resent it deeply and permanently if we proceed. Let the House, then, beware! Sir, I have but a word more—I should be sorry if it went abroad that I am hostile to the Roman Catholics. I respect the talents, I revere the virtues, I honour the courage, of my Roman Catholic fellow-subjects; and I would not injure the humblest individual amongst them, but still I will protect the character of the Protestant Constitution. Such, Sir, are my feelings, and I am sure they are those of its stedfast and conscientious advocates.

next addressed the Chair; but such was the state of the House during the whole of his speech, that scarcely a connected sentence of it could be collected in the gallery. We understood the hon. member to argue in support of the motion, and to contend, that the penal laws were in existence before the Revolution of 1688, and that their establishment formed no part of the constitution as it was then declared; that the only addition to the constitution then made was, that the king must be Protestant; and that the measure now before the House did not, in any degree, touch or alter that arrangement.

followed, but owing to the same circumstance, he could not be heard. All that we could collect of his remarks was, that the country was taken by surprise in the proposition of a measure which tended to subvert the constitution. He regretted that it obliged so many to oppose a government, which they would otherwise wish to support. The hon, member save, however, his sup port to the second measure for the disfranchisement of the Irish forty-shilling freeholders.

said, that as, at that late hour, it could not be expected to bring the debate to a close that night, he would move that it be adjourned to-tomorrow.

said, he did not rise to offer any opposition to the motion of adjournment, but he thought it would be satisfactory if they could come to some understanding as to the time when the debate should recommence. Four hours and a half had been consumed that evening in presenting and discussing petitions; and, though he had no wish to restrict the presentation of petitions, yet, without such restriction, it would be desirable to fix some hour for the commencement of the debate. He thought that six o'clock at the latest might be fixed; and he was sure it would give more satisfaction to those who were disposed to take part in the debate, if a time were fixed.

thought, that the question ought to be adjourned for a week [Cries of "Oh, oh," and of "Hear, hear"]. He repeated, that a week could not be considered too long; for really it was too much that the time for presenting the petitions of the people should be cut short.

could not but suggest to the hon. baronet, that if he thought it desirable that the debate should not be resumed at so early an hour,—it was then only twenty minutes past twelve, and the House was not in the habit of adjourning questions at that early hour,—so that if he wished to have a longer time for presenting petitions to-morrow, he might proceed now. Or he would suggest another mode of getting rid of the difficulty. It was not yet very late, and he was sure the House would continue to sit and receive those petitions which the hon. baronet might have to present.

said, he was quite certain that those who wished to have the question discussed would not think six or seven hours were too many to be allowed for it. It was too much, after the time that had been spent in receiving and discussing petitions, to say that the petitions of the people were not attended to. He knew the attempts that were made to stimulate the people on that ground; but he also knew that such attempts would fail. If hon. members wished to have this question discussed, they would not object that a time should be fixed when the discussion should commence.

said, that, as far as he was concerned, he had no objection to the course proposed. He would be in his place at six o'clock, and would be desirous that the discussion should be renewed at that hour.

thought that it would be the better course, if the House were determined to adjourn the debate, to adopts the amendment; for if it were fixed for an hour or two from that time, or after one or two other speakers should have addressed the House, many would not be disposed to listen, and many would go. It would, in his opinion, be better either to go on to the end of the debate, or adjourn at once.

asked, whether the hon. member for the University of Oxford would say, whether he would assent to the understanding that the debate should be renewed at the hour mentioned?

did not know what right the noble lord had to put a question to him in that way. He would tell the noble lord that such a course was unjustifiable. He would not state what he might be disposed to do to-morrow, or whether he could, in the conscientious discharge of his duty, accede to the time mentioned.

rose to order. He could not see that the warmth of the hon. baronet was at all justified by the circumstance which had called it forth. The hon member for Dorset had moved an adjournment, and it was suggested that a time should be fixed for the renewal of the debate. Now, it was well known to persons of more experience in the House than the hon. baronet, that it was a common practice, and for the convenience of all parties, that there should be an understanding as to the time when the discussion should be renewed. If such an understanding was not come to, why it was not too late to go on. The hon. baronet said, he would adopt that course which his conscience should dictate, but it might not be very convenient to leave the question to his conscience, or to what he might think his sense of duty.

said, it was in the power of the House to come to any determination which might be most for its own conveni- ence, and no member had a right to resist that arrangement. If the House decided upon a particular hour for renewing the debate, no member had a right to object to that hour when once fixed.

hoped the debate would be concluded in perfect good humour. If it were now adjourned, it was to be hoped that those members who had petitions would present them at an early hour.

The debate was then adjourned till tomorrow.