The Works of the Rev. Sydney Smith: Including His Contributions to the ...

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I6r

THE WORKS

or

THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH.

VOLUME II.

tOKDOVI
pmlHTSD BT 8POTCTBWOODB AND 00.
SBW-STBXBY SQCABB.

THE WORKS

OP

THE KEV. SYDNEY SMITH

IirCI<T7DIKO HI8 00NTBIBTTTI0N8 TO THX XDIKBUBaK RXVIXW.

IN TWO VOLS.

VOLUME THE SECOND.

LONDON
UOSQMAN, BBOWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, AND ROBERTS.

1859

CONTENTS

or

THE SECOND VOLUME

AKTICLBS OBIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE '^EDmBTJAGH REVIEW.'

PBBSECuTiiro Bishops

BoTAKT Bat ....

Game Laws .....

CsuEL Tbbatmevt of UimuED Prisokbbs .

Amesica .....

MSMOIBS OE Caftain Boce .

Sbntham ok Fallacies

Wateetok .....

Geaitbt .....

HAMiLT0ir*8 Method of teachiito LAFGUAem

COUEBEL EOH PBISOITEBS

Catholics .....

teEB Pltmlbt*b Lettebb .

The Jxtdob that smites coktbaet to the Law .* a Sebmoe

The Lawyhb that tempted Christ : a Sebmoh

Page
1

. 12

. 25

. 82

. 42

. 62

. 69

. 74

. 84

. 92

. 106

. 120

. 135

. 184

. 190

SPEECHES.

Speech at a Mebtikq op the CuiBaT op Cleyblakd . . .197

Speech oh the Catholic Claims . . . . . .201

Speech at the Taunton Bepobm Meeting . . . . .207

Speech at Taunton at a Meeting to celebrate thb Accession op King

William IV. . . . . . . .212

Speech at Taunton in 1831 on the Bjbpobm Bill not being passed . 214

Speech bbspecting the Bjbpobm Bill . . . .215

A Letteb to the Elbctobs upon the Catholic Question .
A Sbbmon on the Bulbs op Chbistian Chabity
Sbbmon on thb Duties of the Queen

228
242
249

VI

CONTENTS.

Page

A Pbaybb . . . . . . . . .254

FiBST Letter to AscsDEACoif Sikgletoit . . . .236

Second ditto . . . . . . . .275

Thisd ditto . . . . . . . . .287

Letteb to Lobd John Bussell . . . . . .297

Letteb ov the Gsabactbb 07 Sib Jaueb Mackintosh . . . S02

The Ballot . . , . . . . . . .805

Letteb to Hb. Hobneb . . . . . . . S19

Lettebs on Railways :—

" Locking in " on RailMrays . . . . . . .821

" Locking in" on BAQways . . . . . . .323

Burning alive on Railroads . . . . . . .825

Lettebs on Akebican Debts :~

The Humble Petition of the Biev. Sydney Smith to the House of Congress at

Washington . . . . . • . .826

Letter L ......... 827

Letter U. . . . . . . • . . SCO

MODEBN ChANOEB . . . . . . . .832

A Pbaoment on the Ibibh Roman Catholic Ghubch . . .833

Indes

343

ARTICLES

OUOIVjILLT rUZlMBKD IV

THE EDINBURGH REVIEW.

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.
(E. Review, 1822.)

1. An Appealto the Legislature andPublic;
or.fhe Legality of the Eighty-Seven Ques-
tions proposed by Dr. Herbert Marsh, the
Bish^ qf Peterborough, to Candidates
for Holy Orders, and for Licences, ioith-
in that Diocese, considered. 2nd Edition.
London, Seeley, 1821.

2. A Speech, delivered in theHotiseofLords^
on Friday, June 7, 1822, by Herbert, Lord
Bishop qf Peterborough, on the Presen-
tation qf a Petition agairut his Exami-
nation Questions; with Explanatory
Notes, a Supplement, and a Copy qf the
Qtiestions, London, Bivington, 1822.

8. The Wrongs of the Clergy cf the Diocese
of Peterborough stated and iUustrated.
By the Bev. T. S. Grimshawe, M.A.,
B«ctor of Burton, Northamptonshire;
and Yicar of Biddenham, Bedfordshire.
London, Seeley, 1822.

4. Episcopal Innovation; or, the Test qf
Modem Orthodoxy, in EightySeven
Questions, impost, as Articles qf Faith,
upon Candidates for Licences and for
Holy Orders, in the Diocese qf Peter-
borough ; wiOi a Distinct Answer to each
Question, and General Btfflections rela-
tive to their lUegal Structure and Per-
nicious Tendency. London, Seeley, 1820.

6. Official Correspondence between the
Bight Reverend Herbert, Lord Bishop qf
Peterborough, and the Rev. John Green,
respecting his Nomination, to the Curacy
<if Blatherwycke, in the Diocese qf Peter-
borough, and County qf Northampton :
Also, between His Grace Charles, Lord
Archbishop cf Canterbury, and the Bev.
Henry William Neville, M.A., Bector qf
Blathertoycke, and qf Cottesmore in the
County qfButland. 1821.

It is a great point in anj qaestion to
clear away encnmbrances, and to make
Vol. II.

a naked circle abont the object in dis-
pute, so that there may be a clear view
of it on every side. In pursuance of
this disencumbering process, we shall
first acquit the Bishop of all wrong
intentions. He has a very bad opinion
of the practical effects of high Cal-
vinlstic doctrines upon the common
people; and he thinks it his duty to
exclude those clergymen who profess
them from his diocese. There is no
moral wrong in this. He has accord-
ingly devised no fewer than eighty-seven
interrogatories, by which he thinks he
can detect the smallest taint of Calvin-
ism that may lurk in the creed of the
candidate; and in this also, whatever
we may think of his reasoning, we sup-
pose his purpose to be blameless. He
believes, finally, that he has legally the
power so to interrogate and exclude;
and in this, perhaps, he is not mis-
taken. His intentions, then, are good,
and his conduct, perhaps, not amenable
to the law. All this we admit in his
favour: but against him we must
maintain, that his conduct upon the
points in dispute has been singularly
injudicious, extremely harsh, and, in
its effects (though not in its intentions),
very oppressive and vexatious to the
Clergy.

We have no sort of intention to avail
ourselves of an anonymous publication
to say unkind, uncivil, or disrespectful
things to a man of rank, learning, and
character — we hope to be guilty of no
such impropriety; but we cannot be-
lieve we are doing wrong in ranging
ourselves on the weaker side, in thQ

B

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

cause of propriety and justice. The
Mitre protects its wearer from indig-
nity] but it does not secure impunity.

It is a strong presumption that a
man is wrong, when all his friends,
whose habits naturally lead them to
coincide with him, think him wrong.
If a man were to indulge in taking
medicine till the apothecary, the drug-
gist, and the physician, all called upon
him to abandon his philocathartic
propensities — if he were to gratify his
convivial habits till the landlord de-
murred, and the waiter shook his head
— we should naturally imagine that
advice so wholly disinterested was not
given before it was wanted, and that it
merited some little attention and re-
spect. Now, though the Bench of
Bishops certainly love power, &r\^ love
the Church, as well as the Bishop of
Peterborough, yet not one defended
him — not one Tose to say, "I have
done, or I would do, the same thing."
It was impossible to be present at the
last debate on this question, without
perceiving that his Lordship stood alone
— and this in a very gregarious pro-
fession, that habitually combines and
butts against an opponent with a very
extended front. If a lawyer is wounded,
the rest of the profession pursue him,
and put him to death. If a church-
man is hbrt, the others gather round
for his protection, stamp with their feet,
push with their horns, and demolish
the dissenter who did the mischief.

The Bishop has at least done a very
unusual thing in his Eighty-seven Ques-
tions. The two Archbishops, and we
believe every other Bishop, and all the
Irish hierarchy, admit curates into their
dioceses without any such precautions.
The necessity of such severe and scru-
pulous inquisition, in short, has been
apparent to nobody but the Bishop of
Peterborough ; and the authorities by
which he seeks to justify it are any-
thing but satisfactory. His Xiordship
states, that forty years ago he was
himself examined by written interro-
gatories, and that he is not the onfy
Bishop who has done it; but he men-
tions no names ; and it was hardly
worth while to state such extremely
slight precedents for so strong a devia-

tion from the common practice of the
Church.

The Bishop who rejects a curate
upon the Eighty-seven Questions is
necessarily and inevitably opposed to
the Bishop who ordained him. The
Bishop of Gloucester ordains a young
man of twenty-three years of age, not
thinking it necessary to put to him
these interrogatories, or putting them,
perhaps, and approving of answers
diametrically opposite to those that are
required by the Bishop of Peter-
borough. The young clergyman then
comes to the last-mentioned Bishop ;
and the Bishop, after putting him to the
Question^ says, "You are unfit for a
clergyman,** — though, ten days before,
the Bishop of Gloucester has made
him one! It is bad enough for ladies
to pull caps, but still worse fof.Bishops
to pull mitres. Nothing can be more
mischievous or indecent than such
scenes; and no man of common pru-
dence, or knowledge of the world, but
must see that they ought immediately
to be put a stop to. If a man is a
captain in the army in one part of
England, he is a captain in alL The
general who commands north of the
Tweed does not say, You shall never
appear in my district, or exercise the
functions of an officer, if you do not
answer eighty-seven questions on the
art of war, according to my notions.
The same officer who commands a ship
of the line in the Mediterranean, is
considered as equal to the same office
in the North Seas. The sixth com-
mandment is suspended, by one medi-
cal diploma, from the north of England
to the south. But, by this new system
of interrogation, a man may be ad-
mitted into orders at Barnet, rejected
at Stevenage, readmitted at Brogden,
kicked out as a Calvinist at Witham
Common, and hailed as an ardent
Armenian on his arrival at York.

It matters nothing to say that sacred
things must not be compared with pro-
fane. In their importance, we allow,
they cannot; but in their order and
discipline they may be so far compared
as to say, that the discrepancy and con-
tention which woald be disgraceful and
pernicious in worldly affain, thoold,

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

8

in common prudence be ayoided in the
affairs of religion. Mr. Greenoagh has
made a map. of England, according to
its geological varieties; — blue for the
chalk, green for the claj, red for the
sand, and so forth. Under this system
of Bishop Marsh, we must petition for
the assistance of the geologist in the
fabrication of an ecclesiastical map.
All the Arminian districts mast be
purple. Green for one theological ex-
tremity — sky-blue for another — as
many colours as there are Bishops —
as many shades of these colours as
there are Archdeacons — a tailor's pat-
tern card ^ the picture of vanity,
fashion, and caprice.

The Bishop seems surprised at the
resistance he meets with; and yet, to
what purpose has he read ecclesiastical
history, "if he expect to meet with any-
thing but the most determined opposi-
tion? Does he think that every sturdy
supralapsarian bullock whom he tries
to sacrifice to the Genius of Orthodoxy,
will not kick, and push, and toss; that
he will not, if he can, shake the axe
from his neck, and hurl his mitred
butcher into the air? His Lordship has
undertaken a task of which he little
knows the labour or the end. We
know these men fully as well as the
Bishop; he has not a chance of success
against them. If one motion in Par-
liament will not do, they will have
twenty. They will ravage, roar, and
msh, till the very chaplains, and the
Masters and Misses Peterborough re-
quest his Lordship to desist He is
raising up a storm in the English Chnrch
of which he has not the slightest con-
ception ; and which will end, as it ought
to end, in his Lordship*s disgrace and
defeat.

The longer we live, the more we are
convinced of the justice of the old
saying, that an ounce of mother wit is
toorih a pound of clergy; that discre-
tion, gentle manners, common sense,
and good nature, are, in men of
high ecclesiastical station, of far greater
importance than the greatest skill in
discriminating between sublapsarian
and supralapsarian doctrines. Bishop
Marsh should remember, that all men
wearing the mitre work by character, I

as well as doctrine; that a tender re-
gard to men's rights and feelings^ a
desire to avoid sacred squabbles, a fond*
ness for quiet, and an ardent wish to
make everybody happy, would be of far
more valae to the Church of England
than all his learning and vigilance of
inquisition. The Irish Tithes will pro*
bably fall next session of Parliament;
the common people are regularly re-
ceding from the Chnrch of England
— ^baptizing, burying, and confirming
for themselves. Under such circum-
stances, what would the worst enemy of
the English Church require? — a bitter,
bustling, theological Bishop, accused
by his clergy of tyranny and oppres-
sion — the cause of daily petitions and
daily debates in the House of Commons
— the idoneous vehicle of abuse against
the Establishment — a stalking-horse to
bad men for the introduction of revo-
lutionary opinions, mischievous ridicule,
and irreligious feelings. Such will be
the advantages which Bishop Marsh
will secure -for the English Establish-
ment in the ensuing session. It is in-
conceivable how such a prelate shakes
all the upper works of the Church, and
ripens it for dissolution and decay. Six
such Bishops, multiplied by eighty-
seven, and working with five hundred
and twenty-two questions, would fetch
everything to the ground in less than
six months. But what if it pleased
Divine Providence to afflict every pre-
late with the spirit of putting eighty-
seven queries, and the two Archbishops
with the spirit of putting twice as many,
and the Bishop of Sodor and Man'
with the spirit of putting only forty-
three queries? — there would then be a
grand total of two thousand three
hundred and thirty-five interrogations
Oying about the English Church ; and
sorely vexed would the land be with
Question and Answer.

We will suppose this learned Prelate,
without meanness or undue regard to
his world^ interests, to feel that fair
desire of rising in his profession, which
any man, in any profession, may feel
without disgrace. Does he forget that
his character in the ministerial circles
will soon become that of a violent im-
practicable man — whom it is impos-

B 2

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

Bible to place in the highest situations —
who has been trusted with too much
fih^adj, and must be trasted with no
more? Ministers have something else
to do with their time, and with the time
of Parliament, than to waste them in de-
bating squabbles between Bishops and
their Clergy. They naturally wish, and,
on the whole, reasonably expect, that
everything should go on silently and
quietly in the Church. They have no
objection to a learned Bishop; but they
' deprecate one atom more of learning
than is compatible with moderation,
good sense, and the soundest discre-
tion. It must be the grossest igno-
rance of the world to suppose that the
Cabinet has any pleasure in watching
Calvinists.

The Bishop not only puts the ques-
tions, bat he actually assigns the limits
within which they are to be answered.
Spaces are left in the paper of interro-
gations, to which limits the answer is
to be confined ; — ^two inches to origi-
nal sin : an inch and a half to justifica-
tion ; three quarters to predestination ;
and to free will only a qoarter of an
inch. But if his Lordship gives Uiem
an inch, they will take an ell. His
Lordship is himself a theological writer,
and by no means remarkable for his
conciseness. To deny space to his bro-
ther theologians, who are writing on
the most difficult subjects, not from
choice, but necessity; not for fame,
but for bread ; and to award rejection
as the penalty of prolixity, does appear
to us no slight deviation from Chris-
tian gentleness. The tyranny of call-
ing for such short answers is very
strikingly pointed out in a letter from
Mr. Thurtell to the Bishop of Peter-
borough; the style of which pleads,
we think, very powerfully in favour of
the writer.

" Beccles, BuffdOc, August 23^, 182L

« My Lord.

" I ought, in the first place, to apologise
for. delaying so long to answer your Lord-
ship's letter : hut the difficulty in which I
was involved, by receiving another copy of
your Lordship's Questions, with positive
directions to give short answers, may be
sufficient to account for that delay.

" It is my sincere desire to meet your Lord-

shijj's wishes, and to obey your Lordship's
diroctions in every particular ; and I would
therefore immediately have returned an-
swers, without «dlj * restrictions or modifi-
cations,' to the Questions which your Lord-
ship has thought fit to send me, if, in so
doing, I could have discharged the obliga-
tions of my conscience, by showing what
my opinions really are. But it appears to
me, that the Questions proposed to me by
your Lordship are so constructed as to elicit
only two sets of opinions; and that, by
answering them in so concise a manner, I
should be representing myself to your Lord-
ship as one who believes in either of two
particular creeds, to neither of which I do
realljf subscribe. For instance, to answer
Question L chap. ii. in the manner your
Lordship desires, I am reduced to the alter-
native of declaring, either that ' mankind
are a mass of mere corruption,' which ex-
presses more than I intend, or of leaving
room for the inference, that they are only
partiaUy ixampty which is opposed to the
plainest declarations of the Homilies ; such
as these, ' Man is altogether spotted and
defiled' (Hom. on Nat.), ' without a epark
of goodness in him ' (Serm. on Mis. of Man,
Ac).

" Again, by answering the Questions com-
prised in the chapter on ' Free Will,' accord-
ing to your Lordship's directions, I am
compelled to acknowledge, either that man
has such a share in the work of his own
salvation as to exclude the sole agency of
God, or that he has no share whatever ;
when the Homilies for Rogation Week and
Whitsunday positively declare, that God is
the * only Worker,* or, in other words, s(de
Agent ; and at the same time assign to man
a certain share in the work of his own sal-
vation. In short, I could, with your Lord-
ship's permission, point out twenty Ques-
tions, involving doctrines of the utmost
importance, which I am unable to answer,
so as to convey my real sentiments, without
more room for explanation than the printed
sheet affords.

** In this view of the subject, therefore,
and in the most deliberate exercise of my
judgment, I deem it indispensable to my
acting with that candour and truth with
which it is my wish and duty to act, and
with which I cannot but believe your Lord-
ship desires I should act, to state my opi-
nions in that language which expresses
them most fUlly, plainly, and unreservedly.
This I have endeavoured to do in the an-
swers now in the possession of your Lord-
ship. If any further explanation be re*
quired, I am most willing to give it, even
to a minuteness of opinion beyond what the
Articles require. At the same time, I would

PERSECUTING BISHQPS.

humbly and reepectftilly appeal to your
Lordship's candour, whetJter U If not hard
to demand my decided opinion upon points
which have been the themes of volumes;
upon which the most pious and learned
men of the Church have conscientious
differed ; and upon whu^ the Artides, in
the judgment qf Bishop Burnet, have pro-
nounced no definite sentence. To those
Articles, my Lord, I hare already subscribed;
andl Mn willing again to subscribe to every
one of them, ' in its literal and grammatical
sense,' according to His Majesty's declara-
tion prefixed to them.

**1 hope, therefore, in consideration of
the above statement, that your Lordship
will not compel me, by the condseness of
my answers, to assent to doctrines which I
do not believe, or to expose myself to infers
enoes which do not fairly and legitimately
follow from my opinions.

" I am, my Lord, &c. Ac."

We are not much acquainted with
the practices of courts of justice ; but^
if we remember right, when a man is
going to be hanged, the judge lets him
make his defence in his owli way,
without complaining of its length. We
should think a Christian Bishop might
be equally indulgent to a man who is
going to be ruined. The answers are
required to be clear, concise, and cor-
rect — short, plain, and positive. In
other words, a poor curate, extremely
agitated at the idea of losing his live-
lihood, is required to write with bre-
vity and perspicuity on the following
subjects : — Bedemption by Jesus Christ
— Original Sin — Free Will — Justifica-
tion - Justification in reference to its
Causes — Justification in reference to
the time when it takes place — Ever-
lasting Salvation — Predestination —
Begeneration on the New Birth — Re-
novation, and the Holy Trinity. As
a specimen of these questions, the an-
swer to which is required to be so brief
and clear, we shall insert the following
quotation : —

" Section II,—CfJustificationt in nferenee
to its cause,

** "L Dora not the eleventh Article de-
clare, tbat we are 'justified by
Faith ofOy?'

** 2. Does not the expression ' Palth only '
derive additional strength from the
negative expression in the same

Article ' and not for our own
works?* ,

** 8. Does not therefore the eleventh Ar-
ticle exclude good works fh>m all
share in the office of Justifyii^?
Or can we so construe the term
' Paith' in that Article, as to mkke
it include good works ?

** 4 Do not the twelfth and thirteenth
Articles fkirther exclude themi, the
one by asserting that good works
/o22(Hoc|/V0r Justification, the other
by maintaining that they cannot
precede it?

" 5. Can that which nerer precedes an
effect be reckoned among the causes
of that effect?

" 6. Can we then, consistently with our
Articles, reckon the performance of
good works among the causes of
Justification, whatever qualifying
epithet be used with the term
cause 7 **

We entirely deny that the Calvinis-
tical Clergy are bad members of their
profession. We maintain that as many
instances of good, serious, and pious
men— of persons zealously interesting
themselves in the temporal and spiri-
tual welfare of their parishioners, are
to be found among them, as among the
clergy who put an opposite interpreta-
tion on the Articles. The Articles of
Religion are older than Arminianism,
eo nomine. The early Reformers '
leant to Calvinism ; and would, to a
man, have answered the Bishop*s ques-
tions in a way which would have
induced him to refuse them ordination
and curacies ; and those who drew up
the Thirty-nine Articles, if they had
not prudently avoided all precise in-
terpretation of their Creed on free will,
necessity, absolute decrees, original sin,
reprobation, and election, would have,
in all probability, given an interpreta-
tion of them like that which the Bishop
considers as a disqualification for Holy
Orders. Laud's Lambeth Articles were
illegal, mischievous, and are generally
condemned. The Irish Clergy in 1 64 1
drew up one hundred and four articles
as the creed of their Church ; and these
are Calvinistic and not Arminian.
They were approved and signed by
Usher, and never abjured by him;
though dropt as a test or qualification.
Usher was promoted (even in the days

B 3

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

of Arminianism) to bishoprics and
archbishoprics — ^so little did a Calvi-
nistic interpretation of the Articles in
a man*8 own breast, or even an avowal
of Calvinism beyond what was required
bj the Articles, operate even then as a
disqualification for the cure of souls,
or any other office in the Church.
Throughout Charles II. and William
IIL's time, the best men and greatest
names of the Church not only allowed
latitude in interpreting the Articles,
but thought it would be wise to di-
minish their number, and render them
more lax than they are ; and be it ob-
served that these, latitudinarians leant
to Arminianism rather than to high
Calvinism; and thought, consequently,
that the Articles, if objectionable at all,
were exposed to the censure of being
** too Calvinistic," rather than too Ar-
minian. How preposterous, therefore,
to twist them, and the subscription to
them required by law, by the machinery
of a long string of explanatory ques-
tions, into a barrier against Calvinists,
and to give the Arminians a monopoly
in the Church I

Archbishop Wake, in 1716, after
consulting all the Bishops then attend-
ing Parliament, thought it incumbent on
, him •* to employ the authority which the
ecclesiastical laws then in force, and the
custom and laws of the realm vested in
him" in taking care that ^no unworthy
person might hereafter be admitted into
the sacred Ministry of the Church; " and
he drew up twelve recommendations to
the Bishops of England, in which he
earnestly exhorts them not to ordain
persons of bad conduct or character, or
incompetent learning ; but he does not
require from the candidates for Holy
Orders or preferment any explanation
whatever of the Articles which they
had signed.

The Correspondence of the same
eminent Prelate with Professor Tur-
retin in 1718, and with Mr. Le Clerc
and the Pastors and Professors of Ge-
neva in 1719, printed in London, 1782,
recommends union among Protestants,
and the omission of controverted points
in Confessions of Faith, as a means of
obtaining that union ; and a constant
reference to the practice of the Church

of England is made, in elucidation of
the charity and wisdom of such policy.
Speaking of men who act upon a con-
trary principle he says, O quantum
potuit insana tpiKavria !

These passages, we think, are con-
clusive evidence of the practice of the
Church till 1719. For Wake was not
only at the time Archbishop of Canter-
bury, but both in his circular recom-
mendations to the Bishops of England,
and in his correspondence with foreign
Churches, was acting in the capacity of
metropolitan of the Anglican Church.
He, a man of prudence and learning,
publicly boasts to Protestant Europe,
that his Church does not exact, and that
he de facto has never avowed, and never
will, his opinions on those very points
upon which Bishop Marsh obliges every
poor curate to be explicit, upon pain
of expulsion from the Church.

It is clear, then, the practice was to
extract subscription, and nothing else,
as the test of orthodoxy — to that Wake
is an evidence. As far as he is autho-
rity on a point of opinion, it is his con-
viction that this practice was whole-
some, wise, and intended to preserve
peace in the Church ; that it would bo
wrong at least, if not illegal, to do
otherwise ; and that the observance of
this forbearance is the only method
of preventing schism. The Bishop of
Peterborough, however, is of a different
opinion ; he is so thoroughly convinced
of the pernicious effects of Calvinistic
doctrines, that he does what no other
Bishop does, or ever did do, for their
exclusion. This may be either wise or
injudicious, but it is at least zealous
and bold ; it is to encounter rebuke,
and opposition, from a sense of duty.
It is impossible to deny this merit to
his Lordship. And we have no doubt,
that, in pursuance of the same theolo-
gical gallantry, he is preparing a set
of interrogatories for those clergymen
who are presented to benefices in his
diocese. The patron will have his
action of Quare impedit, it is true ; and
the judge and jury will decide whether
the Bishop has the right of interro-
gation at all; and whether Calvinistical
answers to his interrogatories disqualify
any man from holding preferment in

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

the Chnrch of England. If either
of these points are given against the
Bishop of Peterborough, he is in honour
and conscience bound to give up his
examination of curates. If CalTinistic
ministers are, in the estimation of the
Bishops, so dangerous as cbrates, they
are, of course, much more dangerous
as rectors and vicars. He has as much
right to examine one as the other.
Why, then, does he pass over the
greater danger, and guard against the
less ? Why does he not show his zeal
when he would run some risk, and
where the excluded person (if excluded
unjustly) could appeal to the laws of
his country? If his conduct be just
and right, has he anything to fear from
that appeal ? What should we say of
a police officer, who acted in all cases
of petty larceny, where no opposition
was made, and let off all persons guilty
of felony who threatened to knock him
down ? If the Bishop value his own
character, he is bound to do Lss, — or
to do more. God send his choice may
be right! The law, as it stands at
present, certainly affords very unequal
protection to rector and to curate ; but
if the Bishop will not act so as to im-
prove the law, the law must be so
changed as to improve the Bishop ; an
action of Quare impedit must be given
to the curate also — and then the fury
of interrogation will be calmed.

We are aware that the Bishop of
Peterborough, in his speech, disclaims
the object of excluding the Calvin ists
by this system of interrogation. We
shall take no other notice of his dis-
avowal than expressing our sincere re-
gret that he ever made it; but the ques-
tion is not at all altered by the inten-
tion of the interrogator. Whether he
aim at the Calvinists only, or includes
them with other heterodox respondents
— ^the fact is, they are included in the
proscription, and excluded from the
Church, the practical effect of the prac-
tice being that men are driven out of
the Chnrch who have as much right
to exercise the duties of clergymen
as the Bishop himself. If heterodox
opinions are the great objects of the
Bishop's apprehensions, he has his Eccle-
siastical Courts, where regular process

may bring the offender to punishment,
and from whence there is an appeal to
higher courts. This would be the fair
thing to do. The curate and the
Bishop would be brought into the light
of day, and subjected to the wholesome
restraint of public opinion.

His Lordship boasts that he has ex-
cluded only two curates. So the Em-
peror of Hayti boasted that he had
only cut off two persons' head^ for dis-
agreeable behaviour at his table. In spite
of the paucity of the visiters executed,
the example operated as a considerable
impediment to conversation ; and the
intensity of the punishment was found
to be a full compensation for its rarity.
How many persons have been deprived
of curacies which they might have en-
joyed but for the tenonr of these inter-
rogatories? How many respectable
clergymen have been deprived of the
assistance of curates connected with
them by blood, friendship, or doctrine,
and compelled to choose persons for no
other qualification than that they could
pass through the eye of the Bishop's
needle ? Violent measures are not to
be judged of merely by the number of
times they have been resorted to, but by
the terror, misery, and restraint which
the severity is likely to have produced.

We never met with any style so en-
tirely clear of all redundant and vicious
ornament as that which the ecclesias-
tical Lord of Peterborough has adopted
towards his clergy. It, in fact, may 1)e
all reduced to these few words — " Be-
verend Sir, I shall do what I please.
Peterborough."— Even in the House of
Xiords, he speaks what we must call
very plain language. Among other
things, he says that the allegations of
the petitions are false* Now, as e^ery
Bishop is, besides his other qualities, a
gentleman ; and as the word false is
used only by laymen who mean to
hazard their lives by the expression ; and
as it cannot be supposed that foul lan-
guage is ever used because it can be
used with personal impunity, his Lord-
ship must therefore be intended to
mean not false, but mistaken — ^not a
wilful deviation from truth, but an
accidental and unintended departure
from it.

^4

8

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

His Lordship talks of the drudgery
of wading through ten pages of an-
swers to his eighty-seven questions.
Who has occasioned this drudgery,
but the person who means to be so
much more active, useful, and impor-
tant, than all other Bishops, by pro-
posing questions which nobody has
thought to be necessary but himself?
But to be intolerably strict and harsh
to a poor curate, who is trying to earn
a morsel of hard bread, and then to
complain of the drudgery of reading

' his answers, is much like knocking a
man down with a bludgeon, and then
abusing him for splashing you with his
blood, and pestering yon with his
groans. It is quite monstrous, that a
man who inflicts eighty -seven new
questions in Theology upon his fellow-
creatures, should talk of the drudgery
of reading their answers.

A Curate — there is something which
excites compassion in the very name
of a Curate ! I ! How any man of
Purple, Palaces, and Preferment, can

* let himself loose against this poor
working man of God, we are at a loss
to conceive, — a learned man in an
hovel, with sermons and saucepans,
lexicons and bacon, Hebrew books and
ragged children — good and patient —
a comforter and a preacher — the first
and purest pauper in the hamlet, and
yet showing, that, in the midst of his
worldly misery, he has the heart of a
gentleman, and the spirit of a Chris-
tian, and the kindness of a pastor ;
and this man, though he has exercised
the duties of a clergyman for twenty
years — though he has most ample tes-
tiihonies of conduct from clergymen
as respectable as any Bishop — though
an Archbishop add his name to the
list of witnesses, is not good enough
for Bishop Marsh ; but is pushed out
in the street, with his wife and children,
and his little furniture, to surrender his
honour, his faith, his conscience, and
his learning— or to starve !

An obvious objection to these inno-
vations is, that there can be no end to
them. If eighty-three questions are as-
sumed to be necessary by one Bishop,
eight hundred may be considered as the
minimum of interrogation by another.

When once the ancient faith-marks of
the Church are lost sight of and
despised, any misled theologian may
launch out on the boundless sea of
polemical vexation.

The Bishop of Peterborough is po-
sitive, that the Arminian interpretation
of the Articles is the right interpreta-
tion, and that Calvinists should be
excluded from it ; but the country
gentlemen who are to hear these mat-
ters debated in the Lower House, are
to remember, that other Bishops have
written upon these points before the
Bishop of Peterborough, and have
arrived at conclusions diametrically
opposite. When curates are excluded
because their answers are Calvinis-
tical, a careless layman might imagine
that this interpretation of the Articles
had never been heard of before in the
Church — that it was a gross and pal-
pable perversion of their sense, which
had been scouted by all writers on
Church matters, from the day the
Articles were promulgated, to this hour
— that such an unheard-of monster as
a Calvinistical Curate had never leapt
over the pale before, and been detected
browsing in the sacred pastures.

The following is the testimony of
Bishop Sherlock : —

" * The Church has left a latitude of sense
to prevent schisms and breaches upon
eveiy different opinion. It is evident the
Church of England has so done in some
Articles, which are most liable to the hot-
test disputes; which yet are penned with
that temper as to be willii^^ subscribed
by men of different apprehensions in those
matters.'" — (SheblocIl** D^enoe qf
SHUingfle^s Unreasonableness qfSeparc^
Hon.)

Bishop Cleaver, describing the diffi-
culties attending so great an under-
taking as the formation of a national
creed, observes : —

^' These difficulties, however, do not
seem to have disoouraged the great leaders
in this work from forming a design as wise
as it was liberal, that of flnmiiig a confes-
sion, which in the enumeration and method
of its several articles, should meet the ap-
probation, and engage the consent of the
whole reformed world.

** ' If upon trial it was found that a com-
prehension so extenalTe oould not be re*

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

dnoed to practice, still as large a compre-
hension as could be contrived, within the
narrower limits of the kingdom, became, for
the same reasons which first suggested the
idea, at once an object of prudence and
duty in the formation and government of
the English Church.'

** After dwelling on the means necessary
to accomplish this object, the Bishop pro-
ceeds to remark : —* Such evidently appears
to have been the origin, and such the actual
complexion of the confession comprised in
the Articles of our Church ; the true eoope
and design qf which wiU not, I conceive, be
eorreeUy apprehended in any other view
than that cf one drawn up and adSutted
with an intention to comprehend the assent
€f dU, rather than to exclude that qf any
who concurred in the necessity qf a r^or-
motion,

** ' The means of comprehensicm intended
were, not any general ambiguity or equivo-
cation of terms, bui a prudent forbearance
in cM parties not to insist on theftUl extent
qf their opinions in matters not essential
or fundamental ; and in all cases to waive, I
as much as possible, tenets which might di-
vide, where they wish tounite,' ** (Bemarks
on the Design and Formation of the Articles
of the Church of England, by William,
Lord Bishop of Bangor, 1802.— pp. 28—25.)

We will finish with Bishop Horsley.

** It has been the foshion of late to talk
about Arminianism as the system of the
Church of England, and of Calvinism as
something opposite to it, to which the
Church is hostile. That I may not be mis-
understood in what I have stated, or may
have occasion further to say upon this
subject, I must here declare, that I use the
words Arminianism and Calvinism in that
restricted sense in which they are now
generally taken, to denote the doctrinal
part of each system, as unconnected with
the principles either of Arminians or
Gblvinists, upon Church discipline and
Church government. This being premised,
I assert, what I often have before asserted,
and by God's grace I will persist in the
assertion to my dying day, that so fiEur is it
from the truth that the Church of Eng-
land is decidedly Arminian, and hostile to
Calvinism, that the truth is this, that upon
the principal poitUs in dispute between the
Arminians and the CaUnnists—upon all
the points qf doctrine characteristic qf
the two sects, the Church (^England main-
tains an absolute neutrality; her Articles
erpUcitly assert nothingbuiwhatis believed
both by Arminians and by CaUnnists.
The Calviniste indeed hold some opinions
relative to the same points* which the

Church of England has not gone the length
of asserting in hor Articles; but neither
has she gone the length of explicitly contra-
dicting those opinions; insomuch, that
there is naUiing to hinder the Arminian
and the highest supralapsarian Calvinist
from walking together in the Church qf
Bngland and Inland as friends and bro^
thers, if they both approve the discipline qf
the Church, and both are willing to submit
to it. Her discipline has been approved ; it
has been submitted to ; it has been in former
times most ably and zealously defended by
the highest supralapsarian Calvinists. Such
was the great Usher ; such was Whitgift ;
such were many more, burning and shining
lights of our Church in her early days (when
first she shook off the Papal tyranny), long
since gone to the resting-place of the spirits
ofthe ju9t."— (£i«Aop HossLXY'tf Charges,
p. 218.— pp. 25, 26.)

So that these unhappy Curates are
tamed out of their bread for an expo-
sition of the Articles which such men
as Sherlock, Cleaver, and Horsley
think maj be fairly given of their
meaning. We do not quote their au-
thority, to show that the right inter-
pretation is decided, but that it is
doubtful — that there is a balance of
authorities — that the opinion which
Bishop Marsh has punished with po-
verty and degradation, has been con-
sidered to be legitimate by men at
least as wise and learned as himself.
In fact, it is to us perfectly clear, that
the Articles were originally framed to
prevent the very practices which Bishop
Marsh has used for their protection ^-
they were purposely so worded, that
Arminians and Calvinists could sign
them without blame. They were in-
tended to combine both these descrip-
tions of Protestants, and were meant
principally for a bulwark against the
Catholics.

"Thus," says Bishop Burnet, "was the
doctrine of the Church cast into a short and
plain form; in which they took care both
to establish the positive articles of religion
and tocut off the errors formerly introduced
in the time of Popery, or of late broached
by the Anabaptists and enthusiasts of
Germany ; avoiding the niceties qf schooU
men, or theperemptoriness qf the writers qf
controversy; leaving, in matters that are
more justly controvertible, a liberty to di*
vines to follow their private opinions with'
out thereby disturbing the peace qf the

IQ PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

CAtewA.** — (History of the Eeformation, i opinions upon other people.

~ * " ^■^'~ ^ was purposely left indefinite,

make finite and exclusive.

Book L part u. p. 168, folio edition.)
The next authority is that of Fuller.

•* In the Convocation now sitting, wherein
Alexander Nowel, Dean of St. Paul's, was
Prolocutor, the nine-and-thirty Articles
were composed. Por the main they agree
with those set forth in the reign of King
Edward the Sixth, though in some particu-
lars allowing more hberty to dissenting
judgments. For instance, in this King's
Articles it is said, that it is to he believed
that Christ went down to hell (to preach
to the spirits there) ; which hist clause is
left out in these Articles, and men left to a
latitude concerning the cause, time, and
manner of his descent.

« Hence some have unjustly taxed the
composers for too much favour extended in
their large expressions, clean through the
contexture of these Articles, which should
have tied men's consciences up closer, in
more strict and particularislngpropositions,
which indeed proceeded from their com-
mendable moderation. Children's clothes
ought to be made of the biggest, because
afterwards their bodies, will grew up to
their garments. Thus the Articles of this
English Pretestant Chureh, in the infancy
thereof, they thought good to draw up in
general terms, foreseeing that posterity
would grow up to fill the same : I mean
these holy men did prudently predisoover,
that differences in judgments would un-
avoidably happen hi the Chureh, and were
loath to unchurch any, and drive them off
from an eeeUHasticalcommwnion^for 8uc\
petty differences, which made them pen the
Articles in comprehensive words, to take
in aU who, differing in the branches, meet
in the root of the same religion,

** Indeed most of them had formerly been
sufferers themselves, and cannot be said, in
compihng these Articles, (an acceptable
service, no doubt,) to offer to God what cost
them nothing, some having paid imprison-
ment, others exile, all losses in their es-
tates, for this their experimental knowledge
in religion, which made them the more mer-
ciful and tender in stating those points,
seeing such who themselves have been most
Ijatient in bearing, will be most pitiful in
burdening the consciences of others."— (See
PuLLES's Church History, book ix. p. 72,
folio edit.)

But this generous and pacific spirit
gives no room for the display of zeal
and theological learning. The gate of
admission has been left too widely
open. I may as well be without
power at all, if I cannot force my

What
I must
Ques-
tions of contention and difierence must
be laid before the servants of the
Church, and nothing like neutrality in
theological metaphysics allowed to the
ministers of the Gospel. / came not
to bring peacCf &c.

The Bishop, however, seems to be
quite satisfied with himself, when be
states, that he has a right to do what he
has done — just as if a man's character
with his fellow-creatures depended
upon legal rights alone, and not upon
a discreet exercise of those rights. A
man may persevere in doing' what he
has a right to do, till the Chancellor-
shuts him up in Bedlam, or till the mob
pelt him as he passes. It must be
presumed, that all men whom the law
has invested with rights, Nature has
invested with common sense to use
those rights. For these reasons, chil-
dren have no rights till they have
gained some common sense, and old
men have no rights after they lose
their common sense. All men are at
all 'times accountable to their fellow-
creatures for the discreet exercise of
every right they possess.

Prelates are fond of talking of my
see, my clergy, my diocese, as if these
things belonged to them, as thei|; pigs
and dogs belonged to them. They
forget that the clergy, the diocese, and
the Bishops themselves, Bll exist only
for the public good ; that the public
are a third, and principal party in the
whole concern. It is not simply the tor-
menting Bishop versus the tormented
Curate, but the public against the system
of tormenting; as tending to bring scan-
dal upon religion and religious men.
By the late alteration in the laws, the
labourers in the vineyard are given up
to the power of the inspectors of the
vineyard. If he have the meanness
and malice to do so, an inspector may
worry and plague to death any la-
bourer against whom he may have
conceived an antipathy. As often as
such cases are detected, we believe they
will meet, in either House of Parlia-
ment, with the severest reprehension.
The noblemen and gentlemen of £ng-

PERSECUTING BISHOPS.

11

Jand will never allow their parish
clergj to be treated with craeltj, in-
justice, and caprice, by men who were
parish clergymen themselves yester-
day; and who were trusted with power
for very different purposes. .

The Bishop of Peterborough com-
plains of the insolence of the answers
made to him. This is certainly not
true of Mr. Grimsbawe, Mr. Neville,
or of the author of the Appeal. They
have answered his Lordship with great
force, great manliness, but with perfect
respect. Does the Bishop expect that
humble men, as learned as himself, are
to be driven from their houses and
homes by his new theology, and then
to send him letters of thanks for the
kicks and cuffs he has bestowed upon
them? Men of very small incomes.

be it known to his Lordship, have very
often very acute feelings ; and a Curate
trod on feels a pang as great as when
a Bishop is refuted.

We shall now give a specimen of
some answers, which, we believe, would
exclude a curate from the diocese of
Peterborough, and contrast these an-
swers with the 'Articles of the Church
to which they refer. The 9th Article
of the Church of England is upon
Original Sin. Upon this point his
Lordship puts the following question :—

" Did the fall of Adam produce such an
effect on his posterity, that mankind be-
came thereby a mass of mere corruption,
or of absolute and entire depravity? Or
is the effect only such, that we are very /ar
ffons firom original righteousness, and of
our own nature inclined to evil P "

ExclucUing Answer.
*'The fall of Adam pro-
duced such an effect on hUi
posterity, that mankind be-
came thereby a mass of mere
corruption, or of absolute and
entire depravity.'

**

The Ninth AHicle,
** Original sin standeth not in the foUowii^ of Adam
(as the Pelagians do vainly talk) ; but it is the ftuilt or
OOTTuption of the nature of every man, that naturally is
engendered of the offspring of Adam, whereby man is
very far gone from original righteousness, and is of his
own nature inclined to evil, so that the flesh lusteth
always contrary to the spirit; and therefore, in every
person bom into the world, it deserveth Gtod's wrath and
damnation.*'

The 9th Question, Cap. Srd, on Prep
Will, is as follows : — " Is it not contrary

to Scripture to say, that man has no
share in the work of his salvation?"

Excluding Anewer.
" It is quite agreeable to
Scripture to say, that man
has no share in the work of
his own salvation."

Tenth Article,
" The condition of man after the Ml of Adam is such,
that he cannot turn and prepare himself, by his own
natund strength and good works, to faith, and calling
upon Qod. Wherefore, we have no power to do good
works pleasant and aooeptable to God, without the
grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we may have
a good will, and working with us when we have that
goodwiU."

On Redemption, his Lordship has
the following question, Cap. 1st, Ques-

tion Ist: — "Did Christ die for all men,
or did he die only for a chosen few?"

Excluding Anewer.
** Christ did not die for aU
men, but only for a chosen
few."

Part qf Article Seventh.
" Predestination to life is the everlasting purpose of
God, whereby (before the foundations of the world were
laid) he hath constantly decreed by his counsel, secret
to us, to deliver from curse and damnation those whom
he hath chosen in Christ out of mankind, and to bring
them 1^ Christ unto everlasting salvation, as vessels
made to honour."

Now, whether these answers are
right or wrong, we do not presume to
decide ; but we cannot help saying,
there appears to be some little colour

in the language of the Articles for the
errors of the respondent. It does not
appear at first sight to be such a devia-
tion from the plain, literal, and gram-

12

BOTANY BAY.

matical sense of the Articles, as to
merit rapid and ignominious ejectment
from the bosom of the Charch.

Now we have done with the Bishop.
We give him all he fisks as to his legal
right ; and onlj contend, that he is
acting a very indiscreet and injudicious
part — fatal to his quiet — fatal to his
reputation as a man of sense — blamed
bj Ministers — blamed by all the Bench
of Bishops — vexations to the Clergy,
and highly injurious to the Church.
We mean no personal disrespect to the
Bishop ; we are as ignorant of him aJB
of his victims. We should have been
heartily glad if the debate in Parlia-
ment had put an end to these blamable
excesses ; and our only object, in med-
dling with the question, is to restrain
the arm of Power within the limits of
moderation and justice — one of the
great objects which first led to the
establishment of this Journal, and
which, we hope, will always continue
to' characterise its efforts.

BOTANY BAY.
(E. Review, 1823.)

1. Letter to Earl Bathurtt. By the Honour-
able H. Grey Bennet, M.P.

2. Seportqfthe Commiwioner qf Inquiry
into the State qf the Colony qfNew South
Wales, Ordered by the House cf Com^
mons to be printed, 19th June, 1822.

Mb. Bioob's Report is somewhat long,
and a little clumsy; but it is altogether
the production of an honest, sensible,
and respectable man, who lias done his
duty to the public, and justified the ex-
pense of his mission to the fifth or
pickpocket quarter of the globe.

What manner of man is Governor
Macquarrie ? — Is all that Mr. Bennet
says of him in the House of Commons
true? These are the questions which
Lord Bathurst sent Mr. Bigge, and
very properly sent him, 28,000 miles to
answer. The answer is, that Governor
Macquarrie is not a dishonest man, nor
a jobber j but arbitrary, in many things
scandalously negligent, very often
wrong-headed, and, upon the whole,
very deficient in that good sense and

vigorous understanding, which his new
and arduous situation so manifestly
requires.

Ornamental architecture in Botany
Bay! How it could enter into the
head of any human being to adorn
public buildings at the Bay, or to aim
at any other architectural purpose but
the exclusion of wind and rain, we are
utterly at a loss to conceive. Such an
expense is not only lamentable for the
waste of property it makes in the par-
ticular instance, but because it destro3r8
that guarantee of sound sense which
the Government at home must require
in those who preside over distant
colonies. A man who thinks of pillars
and pilasters, when half the colony are
wet through for want of any covering
at all, cannot be a wise or prudent
person. He seems to be ignorant, that
the prevention of rheumatism in all
young colonies is a much more impor-
tant object than the gratification of
taste, or the display of skilL

"I suggested to Governor Macquarrie
the expediency of stopping all work then in
progress that was merely of an ornamental
nature, and of postponing its execution
till other more important buildings were
finished. With this view it was, that I re-
commended to the Governor to stop the
progress of a large church, the foundation
of which had been laid previous to my
arrival, and which, by the estimate of Mr.
Greenway the architect, would have re-
quired six years to complete. By a change
that I recommended, and which the Go-
vernor adopted, in the destination of the
new Court-house at Sydney, the accommo*
dation of a new charch is probably by this
time secured. As I conceived that consi-
derable advantage had been gained by in-
ducing Governor Macquarrie to suspend
the progress of the larger church, I did not
deem it necessary to make any pointed ob-
jection to the addition of these ornamental
parts of the smaller one ; though I regretted
to observe in this instance, as well as in
those of the new stables at Sydney, the
turnpike gate-house and the new fountain
there, ss well as in the repairs of an old
church at Paramatta, how much more the
embellishment of these places had been
considered by the Governor than the real
and pressing wants of the colony. The
buildings that I had recommended to his
early attention tn Sydney were, a new
gaol, a Bohool-house, and a market-house.

BOTANY BAT.

18

The defects of the first of these buildings
will be moire luurticularly pointed out when
I oome to describe the buildings that have
been erected in New South Wales. It is
sufficient for me now to observe, that they
were striking, and of a nature not to be
remedied by additions or repairs. The other
two were in a state of absolute ruin ; they
were also of undeniable importance and
necessity. Having lefb Sydney in the month
of November, 1820, with these impressions,
and with a belief that the suggestions I had
made to GovOTnor Macquarrie respecting
them had been partly acted upon, and
would continue to be so during my absence
in Yan Diemen's Land, it was not without
much surprise and regret that I learnt,
during my residence in that settlement,
the resumption of the work at the large
church in Sydney, and the steady continua-
tion of the others that I had objected to,
especially the Governor's stables at Sydn^.
I felt the greater surprise in receiving the
information respecting this last-mentioned
structure, during my absence in Yan Die-
men's Land, as the Governor himself had,
upon many occasions, expressed to me his
own regret at having ever sanctioned it,
and his consciousness of its extravagant
dimensions and ostentatious character.'*—
(Report, pp. 61, 52.)

One of the great difficulties in
Botany Bay is to find proper employ-
ment for the great mass of convicts
who are sent out. Governor Mac-
quarrie selects all the best artisans, of
every description, for the use of GoTem-
ment; and puts the poets, attomies,
and politicians ap to auction. The
evil consequences of this are manifold.
In the first place, from possessing so
many of the best artificers, the Governor
is necessarily, turned into a builder j
and immense drafts are drawn upon
the Treasury at home, for buildings
better adapted for Regent Street than
the Bay. In the next place, the poor
settler finding that the convict attorney
is very awkward at cutting timber, or
catching kangaroos, soon returns him
upon the hands of Government in a
much worse plight than that in which
he was received. Not only are gover-
nors thus debauched into useless and
expensive builders, hut the colonists
who are scheming and planning with
all the activity of new settlers, cannot
find workmen to execute their designs.

What two ideas are more inseparable

than Beer and Britannia? — what event
more awfully important to an English
colony, than the erection of its first
brewhonse? — and yet it required, in
Van Diemen's Land, the greatest soli-
citation to the Government, and all the
infiuence of Mr. Bigge, to get it efiected.
The Government, having obtained pos-
session of the best workmen, keep
them ; their manumission is much
more infrequent than that of the use-
less and unprofitable Convicts ; in other
words, one man is punished for his
skill, and another rewarded for his in-
utility. Guilty of being a locksmith
— guilty of stonemasonry, or brick-
making; — these are the second verdicts
brought in, in New South Wales; and
upon them is regulated the duration or
mitigation of punishment awarded in
the mother-country. At the very
period when the Governor assured
Lord Bathnrst, in his despatches, that
he kept and employed so numerous a
gang of workmen, only because the
inhabitants could not employ them,
Mr. Bigge informs us, that their ser-
vices would have been most acceptable
to the colonists. Most of the settlers,
at the time of Mr. Blgge*s arrival, from
repeated refusals and disappointments,
had been so convinced of the impossi-
bility of obtaining workmen, that they
had ceased to make application to the
Grovernor. Is it to be believed that a
governor, placed over a land of con-
victs, and capable of guarding his
limbs from any sudden collision with
odometrous stones, or vertical posts of
direction, should make no distinction
between the simple convict' and tbo
double and treble convict — the man of
three juries, who has three times ap-
peared at the Bailey, trilarcenous —
three times driven over the seaS?

" t think it necessary to notice the want
of attention that has prevailed, until a very
late period, at Sydney, to the circumstances
of those convicts who have been trans-
ported a second and a third time. Although
the knowledge of these fiicts is transmitted
in the huUc Hsts, or acquired without dif-
ficulty during the passage, it never has
occurred to Governor Macquarrie or to the
superintendent of convicts, to make any
difference in the condition of these men,
not even to disappoint the views they may

T4

BOTANY BAY.

be supposed to have indulged by the success
of a criminal enterprise in England, and
by transferring the fruits of it to New
South Wales.

" To accomplish this veiy simple but im-
portant object, nothing more was necessary
than to consign these men to any situation
rather than that which their friends had
selected for them, and distinctly to declare
in the presence of their comrades at the
first muster on their arrival, that no con-
sideration or favour would be shown to
those who had violated the law a second
time, and that the mitigation of their
sentences must be indefiultely postponed."
—(Beport, p. 19.)

We were not a little amused at
Governor Macquarrie's laureate — a
regular Mr. Southey — who, upon the
king's birth-day, sings the praises of
Governor Macquarrie.* The case of
this votary of Apollo and Mercury was
a case for life ; the offence a menacing
epistle, or, as low people call it, a
threatening letter. He bins been par-
doned, however,^- bursting his shackles,
liiie Orpheus of old, with song and
metre, and is well spoken of by Mr.
Bigge, but no specimen of his poetry
giveiL One of the best and most en-
lightened men in the settlement appears
to be Mr. Marsden, a clergyman at
Paramatta. Mr. Bennet represents
him as a gentleman of great feeling,
whose life is embittered by the scenes
of horror and vice it is his lot to wit-
ness at Paramatta. Indeed he says of
himself, that in consequence of these
things, ** he does not enjoy one happy
moment from the beginning to the
end of the week I*' T\\\s letter, at
the time, produced a very consider-
able sensation in this country. The
idea of a man of refinement and feeling
wearing away his life in the midst of
scenes of crime and debauchery to
which he can apply no corrective, is
certainly a very melancholy and af-
fecting picture ; but there is no story,
however elegant and eloquent, which
does not require, for the purposes of
justice, to be tnnied to the other side,
and viewed in reverse. The Rev. Mr.
Marsden (says Mr. Bigge), being him'
self accustomed to traffic in spirits^ must
necessarily feel displeased at having so

• Ffd0 Beport, p. 14S.

many public houses licensed in the
neighbourhood. — (p. 14.)

" As to Mr. Marsden's troubles of mind "
(says the Governor) "and pathetic display
of sensibility and humanity, they must be
so deeply seated, and so ftr removed finom
the surfkoe, as to escape all possible obser-
vation. His habits are those of a man for
ever engaged in some active, animi^«ed
pursuit. No man* travels more firom town
to town, or firom house to house. His
deportment is at all times that of a person
the most gay and h^py. When I was
honoured with his society, he was by fiur
the most cheerful person I met in the
colony. Where his hours of sorrow were
spent it is hard to divine; for the variety of
his pursuits, both in his own concerns, and
in those of others, is so extensive, in tatm."
ing, grazing, manufactories, transactions^
that with his clerical duties, he seems, to
use a common phrase, to have his hands
full of work. Aiid the particular subject
to which he imputes this extreme depres-
sion of mind, is, besidra, one for which few
people here will give him much credit.'*—
{Maequarri^e Letter to Lord Sidmouth,
p. 18.)

There is certainly a wide difference
between a man of so much feeling, that
he has not a moment's happiness from
the beginning to the end of the week,
and a little merry bustling clergyman,
largely concerned in the sale of rum,
and brisk at a bargain for barley. Mr.
Bigge*s evidence, however, is very
much in favour of Mr. Marsden. He
seems to think him a man of highly
respectable character and superior un-
derstanding, and that he has been dis-
missed from the magistracy by Go-
vernor Macqnarrie, in a very rash, nn-
justifiable,and even tyrannical manner;
and in these opinions, we must say, the
facts seem to bear out the Beport of
the Commissioner.

Colonel Macquajrrie not only dis-
misses honest and irreproachable men
in a country where their existence is
scarce, and their services inestimable,
bnt he advances convicts to the situa-
tion and dignity of magistrates. Mr.
Bennet lays great stress upon this, and
makes it one of his strongest charges
against the Governor ; and the Com-
missioner also takes part against it.
But we confess we have great doubts
on the subject ; and are by no means

BOTANY BAY.

15

satisfied that the system of the Go-
remor was not, upon the whole, the
wisest and hest adapted to the situation
of the colony. Men are governed by
words ; and under the infamous term
convict, are comprehended crimes of
the most different degrees and species
of guilt. One man is transported for
stealing three hams and a pot of sau-
sages ; and in the next berth to him
on board the transport is a young sor-
geon, who has been engaged in the
mutiny at the Nore ; the third man is
for extorting money ; the foarth was
in a respectable situation of life at the
time of the Irish Bebellion, and was so
ill read in history as to imagine that
Ireland had been ill-treated by England,
and so bad a reasoner as to suppose,
that nine Catholics ought not to pay
tithes to one Protestant. Then comes
a man who set his house on fire, to
cheat the Phoenix Office ; and, lastly,
that most glaring of all human yillains,
a poacher, driyen from Europe, wife
and child, by thirty lords of manors, at
the Quarter Sessions, for killing a par-
tridge. Now, all these are crimes no
doubt — particularly the last; but they
are surely crimes of very different de-
grees of intensity to which different
degrees of contempt and horror are
attached — and from which those who
haye committed them may, by subse-
quent morality, emancipate themselves,
with different degrees of difficulty, and
with more or less of success. A warrant
granted by a reformed bacon-stealer
would be absurd; but there is hardly
any reason why a foolish hot-brained
young blockhead, who chose to favour
the mutineers at the Nore when he was
sixteen years of age, may not make a
very loyal subject, and a very respect-
able and respected magistrate, when
he is forty years of age, and has cast
his Jacobine teeth, and fallen into the
' practical jobbing and loyal baseness
which so commonly developes itself
about that period of life. Therefore,
to say that a man must be placed in
no situation of trust or elevation, as a
magistrate, merely because he is a
convict, is to govern mankind with a
dictionary, and to surrender sense
and usefulness to sound. Take the

following case, for instance, from Mr.
Bigge: —

"The next penon, ttom the same class,
that was so distinguished by Governor Mao-
quarrie, was the Re^r. Mr. Fulton. He
was transported by the sentence of a court-
martial in Ireland, during fhe RebelUon;
and on his arrival in New South Wales,
in the year 1800, was sent to Norfolk Island
lo officiate as chaplain. He returned to
New South Wales in the year 180i, and
performed the duties of chaplain at l^dney
and Paramatta.

*' In the divisions that prevailed in the
colony previous to the arrest of Governor
Bligh, Mr. Fulton took no part; but, hap-
pening to form one of his funily when the
person of the Governor was menaced with
violence, he courageously opposed himself
to the military party that entered the
house, and gave an example of courage and
devotion to the authority of Governor
Bligh. which, if partaken either by the
officer or his few adherents, would have
spared him the humiliation of a personal
arrest, and rescued his authority f^m the
disgrace of open and violent suspension.*'
— (■B0|H>rf,pp.8S,84)

The particular nature of the place
too must be remembered. It is seldom,
we suspect, that absolute dunces go to
the Bay, but commonly men of active
minds, and considerable talents in their
various lines — who have not learnt,
indeed, the art of self-discipline and
control, but who are sent to learn it in
the bitter school of adversity. And
when this medicine produces its proper
effect — when sufficient time has been
given to show a thorough change in
character and disposition — a young
colony really cannot afford to dispense
with the services of any person of
superior talents. Activity, resolution,
and acuteness, are of such immense im-
portance in the hard circumstances
of a new State, that they must be
eagerly caught at, and employed as
soon as they are discovered. Though
all may not be quite so unobjectionable
as could be wished —

*' Res dura^ et regni novitas me talia oogunt
Moliri"—

as Colonel Macquarrie probably quoted
to Mr. Commissioner Bigge. As for
the conduct of those extra-moralists,
who come to settle in a land of crime.

16

BOTANY BAY.

and refuse to associate with a convict
legally pardoned, however light his
original . offence, however perfect his
subsequent conduct — we have no tole-
ration for such folljr and foppery. To
sit down to dinner with men who have
not been tried for their lives b a luxury
which cannot be enjoyed in such a
country. It is entirely out of the
question ; and persons so dainty, and
so truly admirable, had better settle at
Clapbam Common than at Botany Bay.
Our trade in Australasia is to turn
scoundrels iuto honest men. If you
come among us, and bring with you
a good character, and will lend us your
society, as a stimulus and reward
to men recovering from degradation,
you will confer the greatest possible
benefit upon the colony ; but if you
turn up your nose at repentance, in-
sult those unhappy people with your
character, and fiercely stand up as a
moral bully, and a virtuous bragga-
docio, it would have been far better
for us if Providence had directed you
to any other part of the globe than
to Botany Bay — which was colonised,
not to gratify the insolence of Phari-
sees, but to heal the contrite spirit of
repentant sinners. Mr. Marsden, who
has no happiness from six o*clock
Monday morning, till the same hour
the week following, will not meet par-
doned convicts in society. We have
no doubt Mr. Marsden is a very re-
spectable clergyman ; but is there not
something very different from this in
the Gospel ? The most resolute and
inflexible persons in the rejection of
pardoned convicts were some of the
marching regiments stationed at Botany
Bay — men, of course, who had uni-
formly shunned, in the Old World, the
society of gamesters, prostitutes, drunk-
ards, and blasphemers — who had ruined
no tailors, corrupted no wives, and had
entitled themselves, by a long course
of solemnity and decorum, to indulge
in all the insolence of purity and
virtue.

In this point, then, of restoring con-
victs to society, we side, as far as the
principle goes, with the Governor ;
but we are far from undertaking to say
that his application ofthe principle has

been on all occasions pmdent and judi-
cious. Upon the absurdity of his con-
duct m attempting to force the society
of the pardoned convicts upon the un-
detected part of the colony, there can
be no doubt These are points upon
which everybody must be allowed to
judge for themselves. The greatest
monarchs in Europe cannot control
opinion upon those points — sovereigns
far exceeding Colonel Lachlan Mac-
quarrie, in the antiquity of their dy-
nasty, and the extent, wealth, and im-
portance of their empire.

" It was in vain to assemble them " (the
pardoned convicts), " even on public occa-
sions, at Government House, or to point
them out to the especial notice and favour
of strangers, or to favour them with par-
ticular marks of his own attention upon
these occasions, if they still continued to be
shunned or disregarded by the rest of the
company. . '

''With the exoeption of the Beverend,
Mr. Fulton, and, on some occasions, of Mr.
Bedf ern,. I never observed that the other
persons of this class participated in the
general attentions of the company; and the
evidence of Mr. Judge>Advocate Wylde and
Major Bell both prove the embarrassment
in which they were left on occasions that
came within their notice.

'* Nor has the distinction that has been
conferred upon them by Governor Mac-
quarrie produced any effect in subduing the
prejudices or objections of the class of f^ee
inhabitants to associate with them. One in-
stance only has oocurred,in which the wifeof
a respectable individual, and a magistrate,
has been visited by the wives of the officers
of the garrison, and by a few of the married
ladies of the colony. It is an instance that
reflects equal credit upon the individual
herself, as upon the feelings and motives
of those by whom she has been so noticed :
but the circumstances of her case were very
peculiar, and those that led to her intro-
duction to society were very much of a
personal kind. It has generally been
thought, that such instances would have
been more numerous if Governor Mao-
quarrie had allowed every person to have
followed the dictates of their own judgment
upon a subject, on which, of all others, men
are least disposed to be dictated to, and
most disposed to judge for themselves.

''Although the emancipated convicts,
whom he has selected fh>m their class, are
persons who generally bear a good character
in New South Wales, yet that opinion of

BOTANY BAT.

17

them is by no means uniTeraal. Those,
however, who entertained, a good opinion of
them would have proved it by their notice,
as Mr. M'Arthnr has been in the habit of
doing, I7 the kind and marked notice that
he took of Mr. Fitzgerald; and those who
entertained a different opinion would not
have contracted an aversion to the principle
of their introduction, from being obliged
to witness what they considered to be an
indiscreet and erroneous application ot it."
—(Report, p. 160.)

We do not think Mr. Bigge exactly
seizes the sense of Colonel Macquarrie*s
phrase, when the Colonel speaks of
restoring men to the rank of society
they have lost. Men may either be
classed by wealth and education, or by
character. All honest men, whether
counts or cobblers, are of the same
rank, if classed by moral distinctions.
It is a common phrase to say that such
a man can no longer be ranked among
honest men ; that he has been degraded
from the class of respectable persons ;
and, therefore, by restoring a convict
to Uie rank he has lost, the Governor
may Tery fairly be supposed to mean
the moral rank. In discussing the
question of granting offices of trust to
convicts, the impcrtance of the Scele-
rati must not be overlooked. Their
numbers are very considerable. They
have one eighth of all the granted land
in the colony ; and there are among
them individuals of very large- fortune.
Mr. Bedfern has 2600 acres, Mr. Lord
4365 acres, and Mr. Samuel Terry
19,000 acres. As this man's history
is a specimen of the mud and dirt out
of which great families often arise, let
the Terry Filiiy the future warriors,
legislators, and nobility of the Bay,
learn from what, and whom, they sprang.

*' The first of these individuals, Samuel
Terry, was transported to the colony when
yomig. He was placed in a gang of stone-
masons at Paramatta, and assisted in the
bmlding of the gaoL Mr. Marsden states,
that during this period he was brought be-
fore him for neglect of duty, and punished;
but, by his industry in other ways, he was
eoablol to set up a small retail shop, in
which he continued till the expiration of
his term of service. He then repaired to
SydiK^, where he extended his business,
and, by marriage, increased his capital He
for many yean kept a public house and
Vol. n.

retail shop, to which the smaller settlers
resorted from the country, and where, after
intoxicating themselves with spirits, they
signed obligations and powers of attorney
to confess judgment, which were always
kept ready for execution. By these means,
and by an active use of the common arti
of over-reaching Ignorant and worthless
men, Samuel Terry has been able to aocu-
mu]ateaconsiderablecapital,andaquantity
of land in New South Wales, inferior only
to that which is held by Mr. D*Arcy Went-
worth. He ceased, at the late regulations
introduced by the magistrates at Sydney,
in Februaiy, 1820, to sell sphituous liquors,
and he is now become one of the principal
speculators in the purchase of investments
at Sydney, and lately established a water-
mill in the swampy plains between that
town and Botany Bay, which did not
succeed. Out of the 19,000 acres of land
held by Samuel Terry, 140 only are stated
to be cleared ; but he possesses 1460 head of
homed cattle, and 3800 Bh&ep**— {Report,
p. 141.)

Upon the subject of the New South
Wales Bank, Mr. Bigge observes, —

*'Upon the first of these occasions, it
became an object both with Governor Mac-
quarrie and Mr. Judge-Advocace Wylde,
who took an active part in the establish-
ment of the bank, to unite in its fiftvour the
support and contributious of the individuals
of all classes of the colony. Govomoc
Macquarrie felt assured, that, without such
co-operation, the bank could not be es-
tablished; for he was convinced that the
emancipated convicts were the most
opulent members of the community. A
committee was formed for the pivpose of
drawing up the rules and regulations of
the establishment, in which are to be found
the names of George Howe, the printer of
the Sydney Gazette, who was also a retail
dealer; Mr. Simon Lord, and Mr. Edward
Eager, all emancipated convicts, and the
last only conditionally.

** Governor Macquarrie had always under-
stood, and strongly wished, that in asking
for the co-operation of all classes of the
community in the formation of the bank, a
share in its direction and management
should also be communicated to them."—
{Report, p. 150.)

In the discussion of this question,
we became acquainted with a piece of
military etiquette, of which we were
previously ignorant. An officer, invited
to dinner by the Gorernor, cannot re-
fuse, unless in case of sickness. This
is the most complete tyranny we ever

C

18

BOTANY BAT.

heard of. If the officer comes oat to
his duty at the proper minnte, with his
proper number of buttons an^ epau-
lettes, what matters it to the Governor
or any body else, where he dines ?
He may as well be ordered what to eat,
as where to dine — be confined to the
upper or under side of the meat — be
denied gravy, or refused melted butter.
But there is no end to the small tyranny
and puerile vexations of a military life.

The mode of employing convicts
upon their arrival appears to us very
objectionable. If a man is skilful
as a mechanic, he is added to the Gro-
Yemment gangs ; and in proportion
to his skill and diligence, his chance
of manumission, or of remission of
labour, is lessened. If he is not skilful,
or not skilful in any trade wanted by
Government, he is applied for by some
settler, to whom he pays from 5«. to
10«. a week; and is then left at liberty
to go where, and work for whomsoever,
he pleases. In the same manner, a
convict who is rich is applied for, and
obtains his weekly liberty and idleness
by the purchased permission of the
person to whom he is consigned.

The greatest possible inattention or
ignorance appears to have prevailed in
manumitting convicts for labour — and
for such labour! not for cleansing
Augean stables, or draining Pontine
marshes, or damming out out a vast
length of the Adriatic, but for working
five weeks with a single horse and cart
in making the road to Bathurst Plains.
Was such labour worth five pounds ?
And is it to be understood, that liberty
is to be restored to any man who will do
five pounds' worth of work in Austrd-
asia? Is this comment upon transpor-
tation to be circulated in the cells of
Kewgate, or in the haunts of those per-
sons who are doomed to inhabit them?

u

■ Another principle by which Governor
Hacquarrie has been guided in bestowing
pardons and indulgences, is that of con-
sidoring them as rewards for any particular
labour or enterprise. It was upon this
principle, that the men who were employed
in working upon the Bathurst Boed, in the
year 1816, and those who oontribnted to
that operation hy the loan of their own
carts and horses, or of those that they
procured, obtained pardons, emandpatious,

and tickets of leave. To 89 men who were
employed as labourers in this work, three
fi*ee pardons were given, one ticket of leave,
and 35 emancipations; and two of them
only had held tickets of leave before they
commenced their labour. Seven convicts
received emancipations for supplying horses
and carts for the caariage of provisions and .
stores as the party was proceeding ; six out
of this number having previously held
tickets of leave.

"Eight other convicts (four of whom
held tickets of leave) received emancipa-
tions for assisting with carts, and one horse
to each, in the transport of provisions and
baggage for the use of Governor M acquanie
and his suite, on their journey from the
river Nepean to Bathurst, in the year
181ft; a service that did not extend b^ond
the period of five weeks, and was attended
with no risk, and very little exertion.

** Between the months of January, 1818,
and June, 1818, nine convicts, of whom six
held ticket of leave, obtained emancipation
for sending carts and horses to convey pro*
visions and baggage from Paramatta to
Bathurst, for the use of Mr. Oxley, the
surveyor-general, in his two expeditions
into the interior of the country. And in the
same period, 23 convict labourers and me-
chanics obtained emancipations for labour
and service performed at Bathurst.

** The nature of the services performed
by these convicts, and the manner in which
some of them were recommended, excited
much surprise in the colony, as well as
great suspicion of the purity of the chan-
nels through which the recommendations
passed."— (226!por«, pp. 122, 123.)

If we are to judge from the number
of jobs detected by Mr. Bigge, Botany
Bay seems very likely to do justice to
the mother- country from whence it
sprang. Mr. Redfem, surgeon, seems
to use the public rhubarb for his pri-
vate practice. Mr. Hutchinson, super-
intendent, makes a very comfortable
thing of the assignment of convicts.
Major Druit was found selling their
own cabbages to Government in a very
profitable manner; and many comfort-
able little practices of this nature are
noticed by Mr. Bigge.

Among other sources of profit, the
superintendent of convicts was the
banker ; two occupations which seem
to be eminently compatible with each
other, inasmuch as they afford to the
superintendent the opportunity of
evincing his impartiality, and loading

BOTANY BAY.

19

with equal labour every convict, with,
out reference to their banking ac-
counts, to the profit they afford, or the
trouble they create. It appears, how-
ever (very strangely), from the Report,
that the money of convicts was not
always recovered with the same readi^
ness it was received.

Mr. Richard Fitzgerald, in Septem-
ber, 1819, was comptroller of provi-
sions in Emu Plains, storekeeper at
Windsor, and superintendent of Go-
vernment works at the same place.
He was also a proprietor of land and
stock in the neighbourhood, and kept
a public house in Windsor, of which
an emancipated Jew was the ostensible
manager, upon whom Fitzgerald gave
orders for goods and spirits in payment
for labour on the public works. . These
two places are fifteen miles distant
from each other, and convicts are to be
watched and managed at both. It
eannot be imagined that the convicts
are slow in observing or following
these laudable examples ; and their
conduct will add another instance of
the vigilance of Macquanie's govern-
ment.

"The stores and matenals used in the
different buildings at Sydney are kept in a
magaasine in the lumher yard, and are dis-
tributed according to the written requisi-
tions of the different overseers that are
made during the day, and that are ad-
dressed to the storekeeper in the lumber
yard. They are conveyed twm thenoe to
the buildings by the convict mechanics;
and no account of the expenditure or em-
ployment of the stores is kept by the over-
seers, or rendered to the storekeeper. It
was only in the early part .of the year 1820
that an account was opened by him of the
different materials used in each work or
building; andin7ebruary,1821«thi8aooount
wasoonsiderBblyin arrear. The temptation,
therefore, that is afforded to the oonvict
mechanics who work in the lumber yard,
in secreting tools, stores, and implements,
and to those who work at the different
buildings, is very great, and the loss to
OoTomment is considerable. The tools,
mo!reoTer, have not latterly been mustered
as they used to be once a month, except
where one of the convicts is removed fh)m
Sydney to another station."— (f^por^, pp.
86,37.) •

If it were right to build fine houses

in a new colony, common sense seems
to point out a control upon the expen-
diture, with such a description of work-
men. What must become of that
country where the buildings are use-
less, the Governor not wise, the public
the paymaster, the accounts not in ex-
istence, and all the artisans thieves ?

A horrid practice prevailed, of the
convicts accepting a sum of money
from the captain, in their voyage out,
in lieu of their regular ration of provi-
sions. This ought to be restrained by
the severest penalties.

What is it that can be urged for
Governor Macquarrie, after the follow-
ing picture of the Hospital at Para-
matta ? It not only justifies his recall,
but seems to require (if there are means
of reaching such neglect) his severe
punishment.

" The women, who had become most pro-
fligate and hardened by habit, were asso-
ciated in their daily tasks with those who
hadverylately arrived, to whom the customs
and practices of the colony were yet un-
known, and who might have escaped the
consequences of such pernicious lessons, if
a little care, and a small portion of expense,
had been spared in providing them with a
separate apartment during the hours of
labour. As a place of employment, the
flictory at Paramatta was not only very
defective, but very prejudiciid. The in-
sufficient accommodation that it afforded to
those females who might be well disposed,
presented an early incitement, if not an
excuse for, their resorting to indiscriminate
prostitution ; and on the evening of their
. arrival at Paramatta, those who were not de-
ploring their state of abandonment and dis-
tress, were traversing the streets in search
of the guilty means of fdture support. The
state in which the place itself was kept,
and the state of disgusting filth in which I
found it, both on an early visit lifter my
arrival, and on one preceding my departure;
the disordered, unruly, and licentious ap-
pearance of the women, manifested the
little degree of control in which the female
convicts were kept, and the little attention
that was paid to anything beyond the mere
performance of a certain portion of labour.**
•—{Report^ p. 70.)

It might naturally be supposed, that
any man sent across the globe with a
good salary, for the express purpose of
governing, and, if possible, of reforming
convicts, would have preferred the
' 2

20 BOTANY BAT.

morals of his convicts to the accommo- 1 public liberty, without knowing or
dation of his horses. Let Mr. Bigge, taring how it is preserved, to attack
a very discreet and moderate man, be every person who.complams of abuses,

heard upon these points.

** Having observed, in Governor Mao-
quarrie's answer to Mr. Marsden, that he
justified the delay that occurred, and was
still to take place, in the construction of a
proper place of reception for the female
convicts, by the want of any specific in-
structions from your Lordship to under-
take such a building, and which he states
that he solicited at any early period of his
government, and considered indispensable,
I felt it to be my duty to call to the recol-
lection of Governor Macquarrie, that be
had undertaken several buildings of much
less urgent necessity than the foctory at
Paramatta^ without waiting for any such
indispensable authority ; and I now find
that the construction of it was announced
by him to your Lordship in the year 1817,
as then in his contonplation, without mak-
ing any specific allusion to the evils which
the want of it had so long occasioned ; that
the contract for building it was announced
to the public on the 21st of May, 1818* and
that your Lordship's approval of it was not
signified until the 24th August, 1818, and
could not have reached Governor Mac-
quarrie's hands until nearly a year after
the work had been undertaken. It appears,
therefore, that if want of authority bad
been the sole cause of the delay in building
the flEtctory at Paramatta^ that cause would
not only have operated in the month of
March, 1818, but it would have continued
to operate until the want of authority had
been formally supplied. Governor Mac-
quarrie, however, must be conscious, that
after he had stated to Mr. Marsden in the
year 1816, and with an appearance of r^ret,
that the want of authority prevented him
from undertaking the construction of a
building of such undeniable necessity and
importance as the factory at Paramatta, he
had undertaken several buildings. Which,
though useftd in themselves, were of less
comparative importance; and had com-
mencedt in the month of August, 1817, ^£
laiboriou8 and expensive constrttcUon if his
own stables at Sydney, to which I have
already cUluded, without any previous com-
munication to your Lordship, and in direct
opposition to an instruction that must have
then reached him, and that forcibly warned
him of the oonsequenoes.*'— (£e!i>oW; p. 71.)

It is the fashion very much among
the Tories of the House of Commons,
and all those who love the effects of

and to accuse him of gross exaggeration.
No sooner is the name of any public thief,
or of any tormentor, or oppressor, men-
tioned in that Honourable House, than
out bursts the sphrit of jobbing eulo-
gium, and there is not a virtue under
heaven which is not ascribed to the delin-
quent in question, and vouched for by
the most irrefragable testimony. If Mr.
Bennet or Sir Francis Burdett had at-
tacked them, and they had now been
living, how many honourable members
would have vouched for the honesty of
Dudley and Empson, the gentleness of
Jeffries, or the genius of Blackmore ?
What human virtue did not Aris and
the governor of Ilchester jail possess ?
Who was not ready to come forward to
vouch for the attentive humanity of
Grovemor Macquarrie? What scorn
and wit would it have produced from
the Treasury Bench, if Mr. Bennet had
stated the snperior advantages of the
horses oVer the convicts ? — and all the
horrors and immoralities, the filth and
wretchedness, of the female prison of
Paramatta ? Such a case, proved as
this now is, beyond the power of con-
tradiction, ought to convince the most
hardy and profligate scoffers, that there
is really a great deal of occasional
neglect and oppression in the conduct
of public servants ; and that, in spite
of all the official praise, which is ever
ready for the perpetrators of crime,
there is a great deal of real malversa-
tion which should be dragged to the
light of day, by the exertions of bold
and virtuous men. If we had found,
from the Report of Mr. Bigge, that the
charges of Mr. Bennet were without
any, or without adequate foundation,
it would have given us great pleasure
to have vindicated the Governor ; but
Mr. Bennet has proved his indictment.
It is impossible to read the foregoing
quotation, and not to perceive that the
conduct and proceedings of Governor
Macquarrie imperiously required the
exposure they have received ; and that
it would have been much to the credit
of Government if he had been removed
long ago from a situation which, but

BOTANY BAT.

21

for the exertions of Mr. Bennet, we
belieTe he would have held to this
day.

The sick, from Mr. Bigge's Report,
appear to have fared as hadly as the
sinful. Good water was scarce, proper
persons to wait upon the patients could
not he obtained ; and so numerous
were the complaints from this quarter,
that the Governor makes an order for
the exclusion qf all hospital grievances
and complaints, except on one day in
the month — dropsy swelling, however,
fever burning, and ague shaking, in
the meantime, without waiting for the
arrangements of Governor Macquarrie,
or consulting the mollia tempora fandi.

In permitting individuals to distil
their own grain, the Government of
Botany Bay appears to us to be quite
right. It is impossible, in such a colony,
to prevent unlawful distillation to a
considerable extent; and it is as well to
raise upon spirits (as something must
be taxed) that slight duty which ren-
ders the contraband trade not worth
following. Distillation, too, always
insures a magazine against famine, by
which New South Wales has more than
once been severely visited. It opens a
market for grain where markets are
very distant, and where redundance and
famine seem very often to succeed each
other. The cheapness of Spirits to such
working people as know how to use
them with moderation, is a great bless-
ing ; and we doubt whether that mode-
ration, after the first burst of ebriety, is
not just as likely to be learnt in plenty
as in scarcity.

We were a little surprised at the
scanty limits allowed to convicts for
sleeping on board the transports. Mr.
Bigge (of whose sense and humanity
we really have not the sHghtest doubt)
states eighteen inches to be quite suffi-
cient — twice the length of a small
sheet of letter paper. The printer's
devil, who carries our works to the
press, informs us that the allowance to
the demons of the type is double fools-
cap length, or twenty-four inches. The
great city upholsterers generally con.
sider six feet as barely sufficient for a
person rising in business, and assisting
occasionally at official banquets.

Mrs. Fry*s* system is well spoken of
by Mr. Bigge ; and its useful effect in
pi*omoting order and decency among
floating convicts fully admitted.

In a voyage to Botany Bay by Mr.
Read, he states that, while the convict
vessel lay at author, about to sail, a
boat from shore reached the ship, and
irom it stepped a clerk of the Bank
of England. The convicts felicitated
themselves upon the acquisition of so
gentlemanlike a compan ion ; but it soon
turned out that the visitant had no in-
tention of making so long a voyage.
Finding that they were not to have the
pleasure of his company, the convicts
very naturally thought of picking his
pockets; the necessity of which profes-
sional measure was prevented by a
speedy distribution of their contents.
Forth from his bill-case this votary of
PiutusdrewhisnitidNewlands ; all the
forgers and utterers were mustered on
deck ; and to each of them was well and
truly paid into his hand a five pound
note ; less acceptable, perhaps, than
if privately removed from the person,
but still joyfully received. This was
well intended on the part of the Direc-
tors : but the consequences it is scarcely
necessary to enumerate ; a large stock
of rum was immediately laid in from
the circumambient slop- boats; and the
materials of constant intoxication se-
cured for the rest of the voyage.

The following account of pastoral
convicts is striking and picturesque : —

* We are sorry It should have been ima-
guied, flrom some of our late observations
on prison discipline, that we meant to dis-
piarage the exertions of Mrs. Fry. Por
prisoners before trial, it is perfect; but
where imprisonment is intended for punish-
ment, ana not for detention, it requires, as
we have endeavoured to show, a very dif-
ferent system. The Prison Society (an
excellent, honourable, and most useful in-
stitution of some of the best men in Eng-
land) have certainly, in their first Numbers,
f^en into the common mistake, of suppos-
ing that the reformation of the culprit, and
not the prevention of the crime, was the
main object of imprisonment: and have, in
consequence, taken some fal^ views of the
method of treating prisoners— the exposi-
tion of which, after the usual manner of
flesh and blood, makes them a little angry.
But, in objects of so h^h a nature, what
matters who is right P — the only question is,
TFAo* is right?

C 3

22

BOTANY BAY.

4(-

'I observed that a great many of the
convicts in Van Diemen's Land wore jackets
and trousers of the kangaroo skin, and some-
times caps of the same material, which they
obtain from the stock-keepers who are em-
ployed in the interior of the country. The
labour of several of them differs, in this
respect, from that of the convicts in New
South Wales, and is rather pastoral than
agricultural. Permission having been given,
for the last five years, to the settlers to
avaU themselves of the ranges of open plains
and valleys that lie on either side of the
road leading from Austin's Ferry to Laun-
oeston, a distance of 120 miles, their fiocks
and herds have been committed to the
careof convict shepherds and stock-keepers,
who are sent to these cattle ranges, distant
sometimes 30 or 40 miles from their masters'
estates.

"The boundaries of these tracts are de-
scribed in the tickets of occupation by
which th^ are held, and which are made
renewable every year, on payment of a fee
to the lieutenant-Qovernor's clerk. One
or more convicts are stationed on them, to
attend to the flocks and cattle, and are sup-
plied with wheat, tea, and sugar, at the
monthly visits of the owner. They are al-
lowed the use of a musket and a few
cartridges to defend themselves against the
natives; and they have also dogs, with
which they hunt the kangaroos, whose flesh
they eat, and dispose of their skins to per-
sons passing from Hobart Town to Laun-
ceston, in exchange for tea and sugar.
They thus obtain a plentiftU supply of food,
and sometimes succeed in cultivating a few
vegetables. Their habitations are made of
turf, and thatched ; as the bark of the dwarf
eucalyptus, or gum-trees of the plains, and
the interior, in Van Diemen's Land, is not
of sufficient expanse to form covering or
shelter."— (jBcpor^, pp. 107. 108.)

A London thief, clothed in kanga-
roo's skins, lodged under the bark of the
dwarf eucalyptus, and keeping sheep,
fourteen thousand miles from Picca-
dilly, with a crook bent into the shape
of a picklock, is not an uninteresting
picture; and an engraving of it might
have a very salutary effect — provided
no engraving were made of his convict
master, to whom the sheep belong.

The Maroon Indians were hunted
by dogs — the fugitive convicts are re-
covered by the natives.

"The native blacks that inhabit the
neighbourhood of Port Hunter and Port
Stephens have become very active in re-

taking the ftigitive convicts. Th^ aocom-
puiy the soldiers who are sent, in pursuit ;
and, by the extraordinary strength of sight
they possess, improved by their daily ex-
ercise of it in pursuit of kangaroos uid
opossums, they can trace to a great dis-
tance, with wonderful accuracy, the im-
pressions of the human foot. Nor are they
afraid of meeting the ftigitive convicts in
the woods, when sent in their pmrsuit,
without the soldiers ; by their skill in throw-
ing their long and pointed wooden darts,
they wound and disable them, strip them
of their clothes, and bring them back as
prisoners, by uiJuiown roads and paths, to
the Coal River.

" They are rewarded for these enterprises
by presents of maize and blankets; and,
notwithstanding the apprehensions of re-
venge from the convicts whom they bring
back, they continue to live in Newcastle
and its neighbouroood; but are observed
to prefer the society of the soldiers to that
of the convicts.**— (iZcpor^, p. 117.)

Of the convicts in New South Wales,
Mr. Bigge found about eight or nine
in a hundred to be persons of respect-
able character and conduct, though the
evidence respecting them is not quite
satisfactory. Bnt the most striking
and consolatory passage in the whole
Report is the following : —

** The marriages of the native-b<nii youths
with female convicts are very rare; a cir-
cumstance that is attribulable to the ge-
neral disinclination to early marriage that
is observable amongst them, and partly to
the abandoned and dissolute habits of the
female convicts ; but chiefly to a sense of
pride in the native-bom youths, approach-
ing to contempt for the vices and depravity
of the convicts, even when manifested in
the persons of their own parehts.'*— (£e-
port, p. 105.)

Everything is to be expected from
these feelings. They convey to the
mother-country the first proof that the
foundations of a mightj empire are
laid.

We were somewhat surprised to find
Governor Macquarrie contending with
Mr. Bigge, that it was no part of his,
the Governor's duty to select and sepa-
rate the useless from the useful convicts,
or to determine, except in particular
cases, to whom they are to be assigned.
In other words, he wishes to effect the
customary separation of salary and
duty — the grand principle which ap<«

BOTANY RAT.

23

pears to pervade all human institutiong,
aad to be the most invincible of all
human abases. Not only are Church,
King, and State, allured by this princi-
ple of vicarious labour, but the pot-boy
has a lower pot-boy, who for a small
portion of the. small gains of his prin-
cipal, arranges, with inexhaustible sedu-
lity, the subdivided portions of drink,
and intensely perspiring, disperses, in
bright pewter, the frothy elements of joy.

There is a very awkward story ot a
severe flogging inflicted upon three free-
men by Governor Macquarrie, without
complaint to, or intervention of, any
magistrate; a fact not denied by the
Governor, and for which no adequate
apology, nor anything approaching to
an adequate apology, is offered. These
Asiatic and satrapical proceediogs,how-
ever, we have reason to think, are ex-
ceedingly disrelished by London juries.
The profits of having been unjustly
flogged at Botany Bay (Scarlett for the
plaintifi^) is good property, and would
fetch a very considerable sum at the
Auction Mart. The Governor, in many
instances, appears to have confounded
diversity of opinion upon particular
measures, with systematic opposition to
his Government, and to have treated
as disaffected persons those whom, in
favourite measures, he could not per-
suade by his arguments, nor influence
by his example, and on points where
every man has a right to judge for
himself, and where authority has no
legitimate right to interfere, much less
to dictate.

To the charges confirmed by the
statement of Mr.^ Bigge, Mr. Bennet
adds, from the evidence collected by the
Jail Committee, that the fees in the
Governor's Court, collected by the
authority of the Grovemor, are most
exorbitant and oppressive ; and that
illegal taxes are collected under the sole
authority of the Governor. It has been
made, by colonial regulations, a capital
offence to steal the wild cattle; and in
1816, three persons were convicted of
stealing a wUd huW^ the property of our
Sovereign Lord the King, Now, our
Sovereign Xx}rd the King (whatever be
his other merits or demerits) is certainly
a very good-natured man, and would

be the first to lament that an unhappy
convict was sentenced to death for kill-
ing one of his wild bulls on the other side
of the world. The cases of Mr. Moore
and of William Stewart, as quoted by
Mr. Bennet, are very strong. If they are
answerable, they should be answered.
The concluding letter to Mr. Stewart is,
to us, the most decisive proof of the un-
fitness of Colonel Macquarrie for the
situation in which he was placed. The
Ministry at home, after the authenticity
of the letter was proved, should have
seized upon the first decent pretext of re-
calling the Governor, of thanking him in
the name of his Sovereign for his valu-
able services (not omitting his care of
the wild bulls), and of dismissing him
to half-pay — and insignificance.

As to the Trial by Jury, we cannot
agree with Mr. Bennet, that it would be
right to introduce it at present, for
reasons we have given in a previous
Article, and which we see no reason for
altering. The time of course will come
when it would be in the highest degree
unjust and absurd, to refuse to that set-
tlement the benefit of popular institu-
tions. But they are too young, too few,
and too deficient for such civilised ma-
chinery at present *' I cannot come .
to serve upon the jury — the waters of
the Hawksbury are out, and I have a
mile to swim — the kangaroos will
break into my com — the convicts have
robbed me — my little boy has been
bitten by an omithorynchus paradoxus
— I have sent a man fifty miles with a
sack of fiour to buy a pair of breeches
for the assizes, and he is not returned.'*
These are the excuses which, in new
colonies, always prevent Trial by Jury;
and make it desirable, for the first
half century of their existence, that they
should live under the simplicity and
convenience of despotism — such modi-
fied despotism (we mean) as a British
House of Commons (always containing
men as bold and honest as the member
for Shrewsbury) will permit in the
governore of their distant colonies.

Such are the opinions formed of the
conduct of Governor Macquarrie by
Mr. Bigge. N ot the slightest insinua-
tion is made against the integrity of
his character. Though almost every-

4

84

BOTANY BAT.

body else has a job, we do not perceive
that any is imputed to this gentleman ;
bat he is negligent, expensive, arbitrary,
ignorant, and clearly deficient in abili>
ties for the task committed to his charge.
It is our decided opinion, therefore,
that Mr. Bennet has rendered a valn-
able service to the public, in attacking
and exposing his conduct. As a gen-
tleman and an honest man, there is not
the smallest charge against the Gover-
nor; but a gentleman, and a very honest
man, may very easily ruin a very fine
colony. The colony itself, disencum-
bered of Colonel Lachlan Macquarrie,
will probably become avery fine empire ;
but we can scarcely believe it is of any
present utility as a place of punishment.
The history of emancipated convicts,
who have made a great deal of money
by their industry and their speculations,
necessarily reaches this country, and
prevents men who are goaded by want,
and hovering between vice and virtue,
from looking upon it as a place of suf-
fering — perhaps leads them to consider
it as the land of hope and refuge, to
them unattainable, except by the com-
mission of crime. Ai)d so they lift up
their heads at the Bar, hoping to be
transported, —

'^Stabont orantes primi transmittere
cursum,
Tendebantque manus, rlp» ulterioris
amore."

It is not possible, in the present state
of the law, that these enticing histories
of convict prosperity should be pre-
vented, by one uniform system of
severity exercised in New South Wales,
upon all transported persons. Such
different degrees of guilt are included
under the term of convict, that it would
yiolate every feeling of humanity, and
every principle of justice, to deal out
one measure of punishment to all. We
strongly suspect that this is the root
of the evil. We want new grada-
tions of guilt to be established by law
— new names for those gradations —
and a different measure of good and
evil treatment attached to those de-
nominations. In this manner, the
mere convict, the rogue and convict, and
the incorrigible convict, would expect,

upon their landing, to be treated with
very different degrees of severity. The
first might be merely detained in New
South Wales without labour or coer-
cion; the second compelled, at allevents,
to work out two-thirds of his time,
without the possibility of remission;
and the third be destined at once for
the Coal River.* If these consequences
steadily followed these gradations of
conviction, they would soon be under-
stood by the felonious world at home.
At present, the prosperity of the best
convicts is considered to be attainable
by all ; and transportation to another
hemisphere is looked upon as the
renovation of fallen fortunes, and the
passport to wealth and power.

Another circumstance, which de-
stroys all idea of punishment in trans-
portation to New South Wales, is the
enormous expense which that settlement
would occasion if it really were made a
place of punishment. A little wicked
tailor arrives, of no use to the architec-
tural projects of the Governor. He is
turned over to a settler, who leases this
sartorial Borgia his liberty for five
shillings per week, and allows him to
steal and snip, what, when, and where
he can. The excuse for all this mock-
ery of law and justice is, that the
expense of his maintenance is saved to
the Government at home. But the
expense is not saved to the country at
large. The nefarious needleman writes
home, that he is as comfortable as a
finger in a thimble ! that though a frac-
tion only of humanity, he has several
wives, and is filled every day with rum
and kangaroo. This, of course, is not
lost upon the shopboard; and, for the
saving of fifteen pence per day, the
foundation of many criminal tailors is
laid. What is true of tailors, is true of
tinkers and all other trades. The
chances of escape from labour, and of
manumission in the Bay, we may de-
pend upon it, are accurately reported,
and perfectly understood, in the flash-
houses of St. Giles; and while Earl
Bathurst is full of jokes and joy, pub-
lic morals are thus, sapped to their
foundation.

* This practice is now resorted to.

GAME LAWS.

25

GAME liAWS.
(E. Rbvibw, 1823.)

A Letter to the Chairman qf the Committee
qf the House qf Commons^ on the Game
Lotos. By the Hon. and Bev. WUliain
Herbert. Eid«^way. 1823.

About the time of the publication of
this little pamphlet of Mr. Herbert, a
Ck>mmittee of the Hoase of Commons
pablished a Report on the Game Laws,
containing a great deal of very carious
information respecting the sale of game,
an epitome of which we shall now lay
before our readers. The country hig-
glers who collect poultry, gather up
the game from the depots of the
poachers, and transmit it in the same
manner as poultry, and in the same
packages, to the London poulterers,
hy whom it is distributed to the public;
and this traiSic is carried on (as far as
game is concerned) even from the dis-
tance of {Scotland. The same business
is carried on by the porters of stage
coaches ; and a great deal of game is
sold clandestinely by lords of manors,
or by gamekeepers, without the know-
ledge of lords of manors; and princi-
pally, as the evidence states, from
Norfolk and Suffolk, the great schools
of steel traps and spring guns. The
supply of game, too, is proved to be
quite as regular as the supply of
poultry ; the number of hares and
partridges supplied rather exceeds that
of pheasants ; but any description of
game may be had to any amount.
Here is a part of the evidence.

"Can you at ai^ time procure any
qiiantil7 of game ? I have no doubt of it. —
If you were to receive almost an unlimited
order, coidd you execute it? Tes; I would
supply the whole city of London, any fixed
day once a week, all the year through, so
that every individual inhabitant should
have game for his table.— Do you think you
could procure a thousand pheasants ? Tes ;
I would be bound to produce ten thousand
a week.— You would be bound to provide
every fiimily in London with a dish of
game P Tes ; a partridge, or a pheasant, or
a hare, or a grouse, or something or other.
— How would you set about doing it P I
Should, of course, request the persons with
whom I am in the habit of dealing, to use
their influence to bring me what they could
by a certain day; I should speak to the

dealers and the mail-guards, and coachmen,
to produce aquantity ; and I should send to
my own connections in one or two manon
where I have the privilege of selling for
those gentlemen; and should send to Scot-
land to say, that every week the largest
quantity they could produce was to be sent.
Being but a petty salesman, I sell a veiy
small quantity; but I have had about 4000
head direct from one man.— Can you state
the quantity of game which has been sent
to you during the yearP No : I may say,
perhaps, 10,000 head; mine is a limited
trade; I speak comparatively to that of
others ; I only supply private fiunilies."—
(Beportt P- 20.)

Poachers who go out at night cannot,
of course, like regular tradesmen, pro-
portion the supply to the demand, but
having once made a contract, they kill
all they can ; and hence it happens
that the game market is sometimes
very much overstocked, and great
quantities of game either thrown away,
or disposed of by Irish hawkers to the
common people at very inferior prices.

'* Does it ever happen to you to be obtiged
to dispose of poullnryat the same low prices
you are obliged to dispose of gameP It
depends upon the weather; often when
there is a considerable quantity on hand,
and, owing to the weather, it will not keep
till the following day, I am obliged to take
any price that is offered ; but we can always
turn either poultry or game into some price
or other; and if it was not for the Irish
hawkers, hundreds and hundreds of heads
of game would be spoiled and thrown away.
It is out of the power of any person to con-
ceive for one moment the quantity of game
that is hawked in the streets. I have had
opportuni^ more than other persons of
knowing this ; for I have sold, I may say,
more game than any other person in the
city; and we serve hawkers indiscrimi-
nately, persons who come and purchase
probably six fowls or turkeys and geese, and
th^ will buy heads of game with them." —
(Report, p. 22.)

Live birds are sent up as well as
dead ; eggs as well as birds. The
price of pheasants' eggs last year was
Ss. per dozen ; of partridges* eggs, 2s.
The price of hares was from Ss. to
5s. 6d. ; of partridges, from Is. 6d. to
2s, Gd. ; of pheasants, from 5s. to
5s. 6dL each, and sometimes as low as
Is. 6d,

"What have you given for game this

26

GAME LAWS.

year? It is very low indeed; I am nek of
it ; I do not think I shall ever deal again.
"We have got game this seaflon as low as
half-a-crown a brace (birds), and pheasants
as low as 7«. a brace. It is so plentiful,
there has been no end to spoiling it this
season. It is so plentiful, it is of no use. In
war tone it was worth having; then they
fetched 7<. and Bs, a brace." — {JSeportt
p. 88.)

All the poulterers, too, even the
most respectable, state, that it is abso-
lutely necessary they should carry on
this illegal traffic in the present state
of the game laws ; because their regu-
lar customers for poultry would infal-
libly leave any poulterer's shop from
whence they could not be supplied
with game.

" I have no doubt that it is the general
wish at present of the trade not to deal in
the article ; but they are all, of course, com-
pelled from their connections. If they can>
not get game from one person they can from
another.

'* Do you believe that poulterers are not
to be found who would take out licenoet,
and would deal with those very persons,
for the purposes of obtaining a greater profit
than they would have de^ngas you would
do P I think the poulterers in general are
a respectable set of men, and would not
countenance such a thing ; they feel now
that they are driven into a corner;, that
there may be men who would countenance
irregular proceedings, I have no doubt.—
Would it be their interest to do so, consider-
ing the penalty? No, I think not. The
poulterers are perfectly well aware that
they are committing a breach of the law at
present.— Do you suppose that those per-
sons, respectable as they are, who are now
committing a breach of the law, would not
equally commit that breach if the law were
altered? No, certainly not ; at present it
is so connected with their business that
they cannot help it.— You said just now,
that they were cbriven into a corner ; what
did you mean by that? We are obliged to
add and abet those men who commit those
depredations, because of the constant de-
mand for game, ftx>m different customers
whom we supply with poultry.— Could you
carry on your business as a poulterer, if you
refused to supply game? By no means;
because some of the first people in the
land requure it ofme,**'-{BepoH, p. 16.)

When that worthy Errorist, Mr.
Bankes, brought in his bill of addi-
tional severities against poachers, there

was no man of sense and reflection
who did not anticipate the following
consequences of the measure:—

"Do you find that less game has {»een
sold in consequence of the bill rendering it
penal to sell game? Upon my word, it did
not make the slightest difference in the
world. — Not Immediately after it waa
made? No; I do not think it made the
slightest difference. — It did not make the
slightest sensation? No; I never sold a
bird less.— Was not there a resolution of
the poulterers not to sell game? I was
secretary to that committee.— What was
the consequence of that resolution? A
great deal of ill blood in the trade. One
gentleman who just left the room did not
come in to my ideas. I never had a head
of game in my house ; all my neighbours
sold it ; and as we had people on the watch*
who were ready to watch it into the houses,
it came to this, we were prepared to bring
our actions against certain individuals,
after sittii^, perhaps, ftx)m three to four
months, every week, which we did at the
Crown uid Anchor in the Strand ; but we
did not proceed with our actions, to prevent
ill blood in the trade. We regularly met,
and, as we conceived at the time, formed a
committee of the most respectable of the
trade. I was secretary of that committee.
The game was sold in the city, in the
vicini^ of the Royal Exchange, cheaper
than ever was known, because the people
at our end of the town were afraid. I, as a
point of honour, never had it in my house.
I never had a head of game in my house
that season.— What was the consequence?
I lost my trade, and gave offence to gentle-
men: a nobleman's steward, or butler, or
cook, treated it as contumely ; ' Good Qod !
what is the use of your runnii^ your head
against the wall?'— You were obliged to
begin the trade again ? Yes, and sold more
than ever.*'— (.Bepor^, p. 18.)

These consequences are confirmed
by the evidence of every person before
the Committee.

All the evidence is very strong as
to the fact, that dealing in game is not
discreditable ; that there are a great
number of respectable persons, and,
among the rest, the first poulterers in
London, who buy game knowing it to
have been illegally procured, but who
would never dream of purchasing any
other article procured by diiihonesty.

"Are there not, to your knowledge, a
great many people in this town who deal in

GAME LAWS.

27

game, by buying or seUing it, that would
not on any account buy or sell stolen pro-
perty? Oertunly; there are many capital
tradesmen, poulterers, who deal in game,
that would have nothing to do with stolen
propwt^; and yet I do not think there is a
poulterer's shop in London, where they
oould not get game, if they wanted it.— Do
you think any discredit attaches to any
man in this town for buying or selling
game? I think none at all; and I do not
think that the men to whom I have just
referred would have anything to do with
stolen goods.— Would it not, in the opinion
of the inhabitants of London, be considered
a veiy different thing dealing in stolen
game or stolen poultiyP Certainly.— The
one would be considered disgraceful, and
the other not P Certainly ; they think no-
thing of dcalii^ in gune; and the farmers
in the country will not give information ;
they will have a hare or two of the very
men who work for them ; and they are
afraid to give information.*' — (Report,
p.SL)

The evidence of Daniel Bishop, one
of the Bow Street officers, who has
been a good deal employed in the ap-
prehension of poachers, is curious and
important, as it shows the enormous
extent of the evil, and the ferocious
spirit which the game laws engender
in the common people. " The poach-
ers," he says, ** came sixteen miles. The
whole of the village from which they
were taken were poachers ; the consta-
ble of the village, and the shoemaker,
and other inhabitants of the village. I
fetched one man twenty- two miles.There
was the son of a respectable gardener ;
one of these was a sawyer, and another
a baker, who kept a good shop there.
If the village had been alarmed, we
should have had some mischief ; but
we were all prepared with fire-arms.
If poachers have a spite with the game-
keeper, that would induce them to go
out in nnmbers to resist him. This
party I speak of bad something in
their hats to distinguish them. They
take a delight in setting-to with the
gamekeepers ; and talk' it over after-
wards how they served so and so.
They fought with the butt-ends of
their guns at Lord Howe's ; they beat
the gamekeepers shockingly." — "Does
it occur to you (Bishop is asked) to
have had more applications, and to

have detected more person* this season
than in any former one ? Yes ; I
think within four months there have
been twenty-one transported that I
have been at the taking of, and throngh
one roan taming evidence in each case,
and without that they could not have
been identified ; liie gamekeepers
could not, or would not, identify them.
The poachers go to the public-house
and spend their money ; if they have
a good night's work, they will go and
get drunk with the money. The gangs
are connected together at diflferent
public-houses, just like a club at a
public-house ; they are all sworn
together. If the keeper took one of
them, they would go and attack him
for so doing."

Air. Stafford, chief-clerk of Bow
Street, says, ** AH the ofiences against
the game laws which are. of an atro-
cious description I think arc generally
reported to the public office in Bow
Street, more especially in cases where
the keepers have either been killed, or
dangerously wounded, and the as-
sistance of an officer firom Bow Street
is required. The applications have
been much more numerous of late
years* than they were formerly. Some
of them have been cases of mulrder ;
but I do not think many have amounted
to murder. There are many instances
in which keepers have been very ill-
treated — they have been wonnded,
skulls have been fractured, and bones
broken ; and they have been shot at.
A man takes a hare, or a pheasant,
with a very difierent feeling from that
with which he would take a pigeon or
a fowl out of a farm-yard. The
number of pecsons that assemble to-
gether is more for the purpose of
protecting themselves against those
that may apprehend them, than from
any idea that they are actually com-

* It is only of late years that men have
been transported for shooting at night.
There are instances of men who have been
transported at the Sessions for night poach-
ing, who made no resistance at all when
taken; but then their characters as old
poachers weighed against them— characters
estimated probably by the very lords of
manors who had lost their game. This dis-
graoefiil law is the occasion of all the mur-
ders committed for game.

28

GAME LAWS.

mitting depredation upon the property
of another person ; thej do not con-
sider it as property. I think there is a
sense of morality and a distinction of
crime existing in the men's minds,
although they are mistaken about it:
Men feel that if they go in a grbat
body together, to break into a house,
or to rob a person, or to steal his
poultry, or his sheep, they are commit-
ting a crime against that man's pro-
perty ; but I think with respect to the
game, they do not feel that they are
doing anything which is wrong : but
think they have committed no crime
when they have done the thing, and
their only anxiety is to escape de-
tection." In addition, Mr. Stafford
states that he remembers not one single
conviction under Mr, JSankes's Act
against buying game ; and not one con-
viction for buying or selling game
within the last year has been made at
Bow Street.

The inferences from these facts are
exactly as we predicted, and as every
man of common sense must have pre-
dicted — ^that to prevent the sale of
game is absolutely impossible. If game
be plentiful, and cannot be obtained at
any lawful market, an illicit trade will
be established, which it is utterly im-
possible to prevent by any increased
severity of the laws. There never
was a more striking illustration of the
necessity of attending to public opinion
in all penal enactments. Mr. Bankes
(a perfect representative of all the or-
dinary notions about forcing mankind
by pains and penalties) took the floor.
To buy a partridge (though still con-
sidered as inferior to murder) was
visited with the very heaviest infliction
of the law ; and yet, though game is
sold as openly in Ix)ndon as apples
and oranges, though three years have
elapsed since this legislative mistake,
the officers of the police can hardly
recollect a single instance where the
information has been laid, or the
penalty levied ; and why ? because
every man's feelings and every man's
understanding tell him, that it is a
most absurd and ridiculous tyranny to
prevent one man, who has more game
than he wants, from exchanging it

with another man, who has more
money than he wants — because m&gis-'
trates will not (if they can avoid it)
inflict such absurd penafties— because
even common informers know enough
of the honest indignation of mankind,
and are too well aware of the coldness
of pump and pond, to act under the
bill of the Lycurgus of Corfe Castle.

The plan now proposed is, to un-
dersell the poacher, which may be
successful or unsuccessful ; but the
threat is, if you attempt this plan there
will be no game — and if there is no
game there will be no country gentle-
men. We deny every part of this
enthymeme — the last proposition as
well as the first. We really cannot
believe that all our rural mansions
would be deserted, although no game
was to be found in their neighbour-
hood. Some come into the country
for health, some for quiet, for agricul-
ture, for economy, from attachment to
family estates, from love of retirement,
from the necessity of keeping up pro-
vincial interests, and from a vast
variety of causes. Partridges and
pheasants, though they form nine-
tenths of human motives, still leave a
small residue, which may be classed
under some other head. Neither are
a great proportion of those whom the
love of shooting brings into the country
of the smallest value or importance to
the country. A Colonel of the Guards,
the second son just entered at Oxford,
three diners out from Piccadilly —
Major Rock, Lord John, Lord Charles,
the Colonel of the regiment quartered
at the neighbouring town, two Irish
Peers, and a German Baron ; — if all
this honourable company proceed with
fustian jackets, dog-whistles, and che-
mical inventions, to a solemn destruc-
tion of pheasants, how is the country
benefited by their presence? or how
would earth, air, or sea, be injured by
their annihilation ? There are certainly
many valuable men brought into the
country by a love of shooting, who,
coming there for that purpose, are
useful for many better purposes ; but
a vast multitude of shooters are of no
more service to the country than the
ramrod which condenses the charge, or

GAME LAWS.

29

the barrel which contains it We do
not deny that the annihilation of the
game laws would thin the aristocratical
popalation of the country ; but it
would not thin that population so much
as is contended ; and the loss of many
of the persons so banished would be a
good rather than a misfortune. At
all events, we cannot at all comprehend
the policy of alluring the better classes
of society into the country, by the
temptation of petty tyranny and in-
justice, or of monopoly in sports. How
absurd it would be to offer to the
higher orders the exclusive use of
peaches, nectarines, and apricots, as
the premium of rustication — to put
vast quantities of men into prison as
apricot eaters, apricot buyers, and
apricot sellers — to appoint a regular
day for beginning to eat,' and another
for leaving off — to have a lord of the
manor for green gages — and to rage
with a penalty of five pounds against
the unqualified eater of the gage 1 And
yet the privilege of shooting a set of
wild poultry is stated to be the bonus
for the residence of country gentlemen.
As far as this immense advantage can
be obtained without the sacrifice of
justice and reason, well and good —
but we would not oppress any order
of society, or violate right and wrong,
to obtain any population of squires,
however dense. It is the grossest of
all absurdities to say the present state
of the law is absurd and unjust, but it
must not be altered, because the altera-
tion would drive gentlemen out of the
country ! If gentlemen cannot breathe
fresh air without injustice, let them
putrefy in Cranborne Alley. Make
jast laws, and let squires live and die
where they please.

The evidence collected in the House
of Commons respecting the Game Laws
is so striking and so decisive against
the gentlemen of the trigger, that their
only resource is to represent it as not
worthy of belief. But why not worthy
of belief ? It is not stated what part
of it is incredible. Is it the plenty
of game in London for sale? the
infrequency of convictions ? the occa-
sional but frequent excess of supply
above demand in an article supplied by

stealing ; or its destruction when the
sale is not without risk, and the price
extremely low? or the readiness of
grandees to turn the excess of their
game into fish or poultry ? . All these
circumstances appear to us so natural
and so likely, that we should, without
any evidence, have had Uttle doubt of
their existence. There are a few
absurdities in the evidence of one of
the poulterers ; but, with this excep-
tion, we see no reason whatever for
impugning the credibility and exact-
ness of the mass of testimony prepared
by the Committee.

It is utterly impossible to teach the
common people to respect property in
animals bred the possessor knows not
where — ^which he cannot recognise by
any mark, which may leave him the
next moment, which are kept-, not for
his profit, but for his amusement.
Opinion never will be in favour of such
property : if the animus furandi exists,
the propensity will be gratified by
poaching. It is in vain to increase the
severity of the protecting laws. They
make the case weaker instead of
stronger : and are more resisted and
worse executed, exactly in proportion
as they are contrary to public opinion :
—the case of the game laws is a memo-
rable lesson upon the philosophy of
legislation. If a certain degree of
punishment does not cure the offence,
it is supposed by the Bankes' School,
that there is nothing to be done but
to multiply this punishment by two,
and then again and again, till the
object is accomplished. The efficient
maximum of punishment, however, is
not what the Legislature chooses to
enact, hut what the great mass of man'
kind think the maximum ought to be.
The moment the punishment passes
this Rubicon, it becomes less and less,
instead of greater and greater. Juries
and Magistrates will not commit —
informers* are afraid of public indig-

* There is a remarkable instance of this
in the new Turnpike Act. The penalty for
taking more than the legal number of out-
side passengers is ten pounds per head, if
the coachman is in part or wholly the owner.
This \rill rarely be levied ; because it is too
much. A penalty of 1002. would produce
perfect impunity. The mMimnm of prao-

30

GAME LAWS.

nation — ^poachers will not sobitfit to be
sent to Botany Bay without a battle —
blood is shed for pheasants — the public
attention is called to this preposterous
state of the law — and even ministers
(whom nothing pesters so much as the
interests of humanity) are at last com-
pelled to come forward and do what is
right. Apply this to the game laws.
It was before penal to sell game :
within these few years it has been
made penal to buy it. From the
scandalous cruelty of the law, night
poachers are transported for scTen
years. And yet, never was so much
game sold, or such a spirit of ferocious
resistance excited to the laws. One
fourth of all the commitments in Great
Britain are for offences against the
game laws. There is a general feeling
that some alteration must take place —
a feeling not only among Reviewers,
who never see nor eat game, but
among the double-barrelled, shot-
belted members of the House of Com-
mons, who are either alarmed or
disgusted by the vice and misery which
their cruel laws and childish passion
for amusement are spreading among
the lower orders of mankind.

It is said, ** In spite of all the game
sold, there is game enough left ; let
the laws therefore remain as they are i*^
and so it was said formerly, ** There is
SDgar enough ; let the slave trade
remain as it is.*' But at what expense
of human happiness is this quantity of
game or of sugar, and this state of
poacher law and slave law to remain 1
The first object of a good government
is not that rich men should have their
pleasures in perfection, but that all
orders of men should be good and
happy ; and if crowded covies and
chuckling cock-pheasants are only to
be procured by encouraging the com-
mon people in vice, and leading them
into cruel and disproportionate punish-
ment, it is the duty of the Government
to restrain the cruelties which the
country members, in reward for their

tical severity would have been about five

I)oundB. Any magistrate would cheerfully
evy this sum ; while doubling it will pro-
duce reluctance in the Judge, resistance in
the culprit, and unwiUingness iu the in-
. former.

assiduous loyalty, have been allowed to
introduce into the game laws.

The plan of the new bill (long since
anticipated, in all its provisions, by the
acute author of the pamphlet before
us), is, that the public at large should
be supplied by persons licensed by
magistrates, and that all qualified per-
sons should be permitted to sell their
game to these licensed distributors ; and
there seems a fair chance that such a
plan would succeed. The questions are,
Would sufficient game come into the
hands of the licensed salesman ?
Would the licensed salesman confine
himself to the purchase of ganie from
qualified persons ? Would buyers of
game purchase elsewhere than from the
licensed salesmen ? Would the poacher
be undersold by the honest dealer?
Would game remain in the same
plenty as before ? It is understood
that the game laws are to remain as
they are ; with this only dificrence,
that the qualified man can sell to the
licensed man, and the licentiate to the
public.

It seems probable to us, that vast
quantities of game would, after a
little time, find their way into the hands
of licensed poulterers. Great people
are very often half eaten up by their
establishments. The quantity of game
killed in a lai^e shooting party is very
great: to eat it is impossible, and to
dispose of it in presents very trouble-
some. The preservation of game is
very expensive ; and, when it could be
bought, it would be no more a com-
pliment to send it as a present than it
would be to send geese and fowls. If
game were sold, very large shooting
establishments might be made to pay^
their own expenses. The shame is
made by the law ; there is a disgrace
in being detected and fined. If that
barrier were removed, superfluous
partridges would go to the poulterers
as readily as superfluous venison does
to the venison butcher — or as a gentle-
man sells the corn and mutton off his
farm which he cannot consume. For
these reasons, we do -not doubt that
the shops of licensed poulterers would
be full of game in the season ; and this
part of the argument, we think, the arch-

GAME LAW&

31

enemj, Sir John Shelley, himself would
concede to ns.

The next question is, From whence
would they procore it ? A licence for
selling game, granted by conntry
magistrates, would, from their jealousy
upon these subjects, be granted only
to persons of some respectability and
property. The purchase of game from
unqualified persons would, of course,
be guarded against by very heavy
penalties, both personal and pecuniary ;
and these penalties would be inflicted,
because opinion would go with them.
** Here is a respectable tradesman,** it
would be said, " who might have bought
as much game as he pleased in a lawful
manner, but who, in order to increase
his profits by buying it a little cheaper,
has encouraged a poacher to steal it"
Public opinion, therefore, would cer-
tainly be in favour of a very strong
punishment ; and a licensed vendor of
game, who exposed himself to these
risks, would expose himself to the loss
of liberty, property, character, and
licence. The persons interested to put
a stop to such a practice, would not be
the paid agents •f Government, as in'
cases of smuggling ; but aH the gentle-
men of the country, the customers of
theftradesmen for fish, poultry, or what-
ever else he dealt in, would have an
interest in putting down the practice.
In all probability, the practice would
become disreputable, like the purchase
of stolen poultry ; and this would be
a stronger barrier than the strongest
laws. There would, of course, be some
exceptions to this statement A few
shabby people would, for the chance of
gaining sixpence, incur the risk of ruin
and disgrace; but it is probable that
the general practice would be othe rwise.

For the same reasons, the consumers
of game would rather give a little more
for it to a licensed poulterer, than
expose themselves to severe penalties by
purchasing from poachers. The great
mass of London consumers are sup-
plied now, not from shabby people, in
whom they can have no confidence —
not from hawkers and porters, but
from respectable tradesmen, in whose
probity they have the most perfect
confidence Men will brave the law

for pheasants, but not for sixpence or
a shilling; and the law itself is much
more difficult to be braved, when it
allows pheasants to be bought at some
price, th^n when it endeavours to
render them utterly inaccessible to
wealth. All the licensed salesmen,
too, would have a direct interest in
stopping the contraband trade of game.
They would lose no character in doing
SO; their informations would be
reasonable and respectable.

If all this be true, the poacher would
have to compete with a great mass of
game fairly and honestly poured into
the market. He would be selling with
a rope about his neck, to a person who
bought with a rope about his neck ; his
description of customers would be much
the same as the bustomers for stolen
poultry, and his profits would be very
materially abridged. At present, the
poacher is in the same situation as the
smuggler would be, if rum and brandy
could not be purchased of any fair
trader. The great check to the profits
of the smuggler are, that, if you want
his commodities, and will pay a higher
price, you may have them elsewhere
without the risk of disgrace. But forbid
the purchase of these luxuries at any
price. Shut up the shop of the brandy
merchant, and you render the trade of
the smuggler of incalculable value.
The object of the intended bill is, to
raise up precisely the same competition
to the trade of the poacher, by giving
the public an opportunity of buying
lawfully and honestly the tempting
articles in which he now deals exclu-
sively. Such an improvement would
not, perhaps, altogether annihilate his
trade ; but it would, in all probability,
act as a very material check upon it

The predominant argument against
all this is, that the existing prohibition
against buying game, though partially
violated, does deter many persons
from coming into the market ; that if
this prohibition were removed, the
demand for game would be increased,
the legal supply would be insufficient,
and the residue would, and mast be,
supplied by the poacher, whose trade
would, for these reasons, be as lucrative
and fiourishing as before. But it is

32

CRUEL TREATMENT OF

only a few jears since the purchase of
}raine has been made illegal ; and the
market does not appear to have been
at all narrowed by the prohibition ; not
one head of game the less has been
sold by the poulterers ; and scarcely
one single conviction has taken place
imder that law. How, then, would the
removal of the prohibition, and the
alteration of the law, extend the market,
and increase the demand, when the
enactment of the prohibition has had
no effect in narrowing it? But if the
demand increases, why not the legal
supply also ? Game is increased upon
an estate by feeding them in winter, by
making some abatement to the tenants
for guarding against depredations, by
a large apparatus of game-keepers and
spies — in short by expense. But if
this pleasure of shooting, so natural to
country gentlemen, be inade to pay its
own expenses, by sending superfluous
game to market, more men, it is rea-
sonable to suppose, will thus preserve
and augment their game. The love
of pleasure and amusement will pro-
duce in the owners of game that desire
to multiply game, which the love of
gain does in the farmer to multiply
poultry. Many gentlemen of small
fortune will remember, that they can-
not enjoy to any extent this pleasure
without this resource; that the legal
sale of game will discountenance
poaching ; and they will open an ac-
count with the poulterer, not to get
richer, but to^ enjoy a great pleasure
without an expense, in which, upon
other terms, they could not honourably
and conscientiously indulge. If coun-
try gentlemen of moderate fortune will
do this (and we think after a little time
they will do it), game may be multi-
plied and legally supplied to any ex-
tent. Another keeper, and another
bean-stack, will produce their pro-
portional supply of pheasants. The
only reason why the great lord has
more game per acre than the little
squire, is, that he spends more money
per acre to preserve it.

For these reasons, we think the
experiment of legalising the sale of
game ought to be tried. The game
laws have been carried to a pitch of

oppression which is a disgrace to the
country. The prisons are half 'filled
with peasants shut up for the irregular
slaughter of rabbits and birds — a
sufficient reason for kilUng a weasel,
but not for imprisoning a man. Some-
thing should be done ; it is disgraceful
to a Grovemment to stand by, and see
such enormous evils without . inter-
ference. It is true, they are not con-
nected with the struggles of party :
but still, the happiness of the common
people, whatever gentleqien may say,
ought everv now and then to be con-
sidered.

CRUEL TREATMENT fOP UN-
TRIED PRISONERS.
(E. Review, 1824.)

1. A Letter to the Sight HonowrabUBobert
Peel, one qf His Mc^jesty's Principal Se-
cretariea qf State, ^e. dte. dbc. on Prison
Idtbour. By John Headlam, M Jl, Chair-
man of the Quarter SessionB for the North
Riding of the Goonly of York. London,

. Hatchard and Son. 182S.

2. Information and Observations, respect-
ing the proposed Improvements at York
Castle, Printed by Order of the Com*
mittee of Magistrates, September, 182S.

It has been the practice all over Eng-
land, for these last fifty years*, not to
compel prisoners to work before guilt
was proved. Within these last three
or four years, however, the magistrates
of the North Riding of Yorkshire, con-
sidering it improper to support any
idle person at the county expense, have
resolved, that prisoners committed to the
House of Correction for trial, and re-
quiring county support, should work
for their livelihood ; and no sooner was
the tread-mill brought into fashion, than
that machine was adopted in the North
Riding as the species of labour by which
such prisoners were to earn their main-
tenance. If these magistrates did not
consider themselves empowered to bur-
den the county rates for the support
of prisoners before trial, who would not
contribute to support themselves, it does
not appear, from the publication of the
Reverend Chairman of the Sessions,

* Headlam, p. 8.

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

that anj opinions of Counsel were taken
as to the legality of so patting prisoners
to work, or of refosiog them mainten-
ance if they choose to be idle ; but the
magistrates themselves decided that
such was the law of the land. Thirty
miles off, however, the law of the land
was differently interpreted ; and in the
Castle of York large snms were annu-
ally expended in the maintenance of
idle prisoners before trial, and paid by
the different Ridings, without remons-
trance or resistance.*

Such was the state of affairs in the
county of York before the enactment
of the recent prison bill After that
period, enlargements and alterations
were necessary in the county jail ; and
it was necessary also for these arrange-
ments, that the magistrates should know
whether or not they were authorised to
maintain such prisoners at the expense
of the county, as, being accounted able
and unwilling to work, still claimed
the county allowance. To questions
proposed upoil these points to three
barristers the following answers were
returned: —

" 2nd]y, I am of opinion, that the magis-
trates are empowexed, and are compelled
to maintain, at the expense of the county,
such prisoners h^ore trial as are able to
work, unable to maintain themselves, and
not willing to work; and that they have
not the power of compelling such prisoners
to work, either at the tr^-mill, or any
other species of labour.

" J. GmUTBT.

** Littcoln't Inn Fidda^ 2nd September,
1823."

" I think the magistrates are empowered,
under the tenth section (explained hy the
37th and 38th) to maintain prisoners before
trial, who are able to work, unable to main-
tain themselves by their own means, or by
employment which they themselves can
procure, and not willing to work ; and I
think also, that the words * shskll be law-
ful,' in that section, do not leave them a

* We mention the case of the North Si-
ding, to convince our readers that the prac-
tice of condemning prisoners to work before
trial has existed in some parts of England ;
for in questions like this we have always
found it more difficult to prove the exist-
ence of the facts, than to prove that they
were mischievous and unjust,

Vol IL

33

discretion on the subject, but are compul-
sory. Such prisoners can only be employed
in prison labour with their own cotuent;
and it cannot be intended that the Justices
may force such consent by withholding
from them the necessaries of life, if thQr4o
not give it. Even those who are convicted
cannot be employed at the tread-mill, which
I consider as a species of severe labour.

" J. Pjlbee.
" September Wi, 1823."

" 2nd]y, As to the point of compelling pri-
soners confined on criminal charges, and
receiving relief from the magistrates, to
reasonable labour; to that of the tread-
mill, for instance, in which, when properly
conducted, there is nothing severe or un-
reasonable ; had the question arisen prior
to the late Act, I should with confidence
have said, I thought the magistrates had a
compulsory power in this respect. Those
who cannot hve without relief in a jail,
carmot live without labour out of it. Labour
then is their avocation. Nothing is so in-
jurious to the morals and habits of the pri-
soner as the indolence prevalent in prisons ;
nothing so injurious to good order in the
prison. The analogy between this and
other cases of public support is exceed-
ingly strong ; one may almost consider it
a general principle that those who live at
the charge of the community shall, as tax
as they are able, give the community a
compensation through their labour. But
the question does not depend 'on mere ab-
stract reasoning. The stat. 19 Ch. 2. c. 4.
sect. 1. entitled, ui * Act for Belief of poor
Prisoners, and setting them on work,'
speaks of persons committed for felony and
other misdemeanours to the common jail
who many times perish h^ore trial; and
then proceeds as to setting poor prisoners
on work. Then stat. 31 G. 3. c. 46. sect. 13.
orders money to be raised for such prison-
ers of every description, as, being confined
within the said jails, or other places of con^
finement, are not able to work. A late stat.
(52 G. 8. 0. 160.) orders parish relief to such
debtors on mesne process in jails, notcounty
jails, as are not able to support themselves ;
but says nothing of finding or compelling
work. Could it be doubted, that if the
Justices were to provide work, and the
prisoner refused it, such debtors might,
like any other parish paupers, be refUsed
the relief mentioned by the statute? In
aJl the above cases, the authority to insist
on the prisoner's labour, as the condition
and consideration of relief granted him, is,
I think, either expressed or necessarily
implied : and, thus viewing the subject, I
think it was in the newer of magistrate^

D

i

34

prior to the late statute, to compel pri-
flonen, nibaisting in all or in part onpubhc
relief, to work at the tread-mill. The ob-
jection commonly made ia, that prisoners,
prior to trial, are to be accounted innocent,
and to be detained, merely that they m^
be secured for trial; to this the answer is
obnous, that the labour is neither meant
as a punishment, or a disgrace, but simply
as a compensation for the relief, at their
own request, afforded them. Under the
present statute, I, however, have no doubt
that poor prisoners are entitled to public
support, and that there can be no compul-
sory labour prior to triaL The two statutes
adverted to (19 Ch. 2. c. 4. and 81 G. 8.) are.
as &r as this subject is concerned, expressly
repealed. The Legislature then had in
contemplation the existing power of magis-
trates to order labour before trial, and
having it in contemplation, repeals it ; sub-
stituting (sect. 88.) a power of setting to
labour onhf sentenced pereons. The 13th
rule, too. (p. 777.) speaks of labour as con-
nected with convicted prisoners, and sect.
87. speaks in general terms of persons com-
mitted for trial, as labouring with their own
'consent. In opposition to these clauses, I
think it impossible to speak of implied
power, or power founded on general reason-
ing or analogy. Sostrong,however,apethe
arguments in favour of a more extended
authority in Justices of the Peace, that it
is scarcely to be doubted, that Parliament,
on a calm revision of the subject, would be
willing to restore, in a more distinct man-
ner than it has hitherto been enacted, a
general discretion on the subject. Were
this done, there is one observation I will
venture to make, which is, that should
some unfortunate association of ideas ren-
der the tread-mill a matter of ignominy to
common feelings, an enlightened magis-
tracy would scarcely compel an untried
prisoner to a species of labour which would
disgrace him in his own mind, and in that
of the public. ^

" S. W. NiOOLL.

** York, August mh, 1328.**

In consequence, we believe, of these
opinions, the North Riding magistrates,
on the 13th of October (the new bill
commencing on the Ist of September),
passed the following resolution : —
*'Tbat persons committed for trial, who
are able to work, and have the means
of employment offered them by the
visiting magistrates, by which they may
earn their support, but who obstinately
refuse to work, shall be allowed bread
and water only.**

CfiUEL TREATMENT OF

By this resolution they admit, of
course, that the counsel are right in
their interpretation of the present law;
and that magistrates are forced to
maintain prisoners before trial who do
not choose to work. The magistrates
say, howeyer, by their resolution, that
the food shall be of the plainest and
humblest kind, bread and water; mean-
ing, of course, that snch prisoners
should have a sufficient quantity of
bread and water, or otherwise the eva-
sion of the law would be in the highest
degree mean and reprehensible. But
it is impossible to suppose any sach
thing to be intended by gentlemen so
highly respectable. Their intention is
not that idle persons before trial shall
starve, but that they shall have barely
enough of the plainest food for the
support of life and health.

Mr. Headlam has written a pamphlet
to show that the old law was very
reasonable and proper ; that it is quite
right that prisoners before trial, who
are able to support themselves, but un-
willing to work, should be compelled
to work, and at the tread-mill, or that
all support should be refused them.
We are entirely of an opposite opinion :
and maintain that ^ it is neither legal
nor expedient to compel prisoners be-
fore trial to work at the tread-mill, or
at any species of labour, and that those
who refuse to work should be supported
upon a plain healthy diet. We impute
no sort of blame to the magistrates of
the North Riding, or to Mr. Headlam,
their Chairman. We have no doubt
but that they thought their measures
the wisest and the best for correcting
evil, and that they adopted them in
pursuance of what they thought to be
their duty. Nor do we enter into any
discussion with Mr. Headlam, as Chair-
man of a Quarter Sessions, but as the
writer of a pamphlet. It is only in
his capacity of author that we have
anything to do with him. In answer-*
ing the arguments of Mr. Headlam, we
shall notice at the same time, a few
other observations commonly resorted
to in defence of a system which we be*-
lieve to be extremely pernicious, and
pregnant with the worst consequences ;
and so thinking, we contend against it.

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

«

and in support of the law as it now
stands.

We will not dispute with Mr. Head-
lam, whether his exposition of the old
law he right or wrong ; because time
cannot be more unprofitably employed
than in hearing gentlemen wbd are not
lawyers discuss points of law. We
dare to say Mr. Headlam knows as
much of the laws of his country as
magistrates in general do ; but he will
pardon us for believing, that for the
moderate sum of three guineas a much
better opinion of what the law is now,
or was then, can be purchased, than it
is in the power of Mr. Headlam or of
anj county magistrate, to give for
nothing — CuUibet in arte sua creden--
dum est It is concerning the expe-
diencj of such laws, and upon that
point alone, that we are at issue with
Mr. Headlam ; and do not let this gen-
tleman suppose it to be any answer to
our remarks to state what is done in
the prison in which he is concerned,
now the law is altered. The question
is, whether he is right or wrong in his
resisoning upon what the law ought to be ;
we wish to hold out such reasoning to
public notice, and think it important
it should berefnted — doubly important
when it comes from an author, the
leader of the Quorum, who may say
with the pious JSneas,—

■ Quasque ipse miserrima vidi.

Et quorum pars magna fui.

If, in this discussion, we are forced to
insist upon the plainest and most ele-
mentary truths, the faalt is not with
us, but with those who forget them ;
and who refuse to be any longer re-
strained by those principles which have
hitherto been held to be as clear as they
are important to hnman happiness.
• To begin, then, with the nominative
case and the verb — we must remind
those advocates for the treadmill, a
parte ante (for with the, millers a parte,
poet we have no quarrel), that it is one
of the oldest maxims of common sense,
common humanity, and common law,
to consider every man as innocent till
he is proved to be guilty ; and not only
to consider him to be innocent, but to
treat him as if he were so ; to exercise

85
upon his case not merely a barren
speculation, but one whidi produces
practical effects, and which secures to
a prisoner the treatment of an honest,
unpunished man. Now, to compel pri-
soners before trial to work at the tread*
mill, as the condition of their support,
must, in a great number of instances,
operate as a very severe punishment.
A prisoner may be a tailor, a watch-
maker, a bookbinder, a printer, totally
nnaccQstomed to any such species of
labour. Such a man may be cast into
jail at the end of August"*^, and not
tried till the March following; is it no
punishment to such a man to walk up
hill like a turnspit dog, in an infamous
machine, for six months ? and yet there
are genUemen who suppose that the
conmion people do not consider this
as punishment ! — that the gayest and
most joyous of human beings is a
treader, untried by a jnxy of his coun-
trymen, in the fifth month of lifting up
the leg, and striving against the law of
gravity, supported by the glorious in-
formation which he receives from the
turnkey, that he has all the time been
grinding flour on the other side of the
wall ! If this sort of exercise, neces-
sarily painful to sedentary persons, is
agreeable to persons accustomed to
labour, then make it volantary — give
the prisoners their choice— give more
money and more diet to those who can
and will labour at the tread-mill, if
the tread-mill (now so dear to magis-
trates) is a proper punishment for
untried prisoners. The position we are
contending against is, that alf poor
prisoners who are able to work should
be put to work upon the tread-mill,
the inevitable consequence of which
practice is, a repetition of gross injus-
tice by the infliction of undeserved
punishment ; for punishment, and se-
vere punishment, to such persons as we
have enumerated, we must consider it
to be.

* Mr. Headlam^ as we understand him,
would extend this labour to all poor pri-
soners before trial, in jails which are deli-
vered twice a year at the Assizes, as well as
to Houses of Correction delivered four
times a year at the Sessions ; i.0. not extend
the labour, but refuse all support to those
who refuse the labour — a distinction, but
not a difference.

D 2

A

S6

But punishments are not merely to
be estimated by pain to the limbs, but
by the feelings of the mind. Gentle-
men punishers are sometimes apt to
forget that the conmion people have
any mental feelings at all, and think,
if body and belly are attended to, that
.persons under a certain income have
.no right to likes and dislikes. The
labour of the tread-mill is irksome,
doll, monotonous, and disgusting to
the last degree. A man does not see
his work, does not know what he is
doing, what progress he is making ;
there is no room for art, contrivance,
ingenuity, and superior skill — all which
are the cheering circumstances of hu-
roan labour. The husbandman sees
the field gradually subdued by the
plough ; the smith beats the rude mass
of iron by degrees into its meditated
shape, and gives it a meditated utility ;
the tailor accommodates his parallelo-
gram of cloth to the lumps and bumps
of the human body, and, holding it up,
exclaims, ** This will contain the lower
moiety of a human being/' Bat the
treader does nothing but tread ; he sees
no change of objects, admires no new
relation of parts, imparts no new quali-
ties to matter, and gives to it no new
arrangements and positions ; or, if he
does, he sees and knows it not, but is
turned at once from a rational being,
by a justice of peace, into a primum
mobile, and put upon a level with a rush
of water or a puff of steam. It is im-
possible to get gentlemen to attend to
the distinction between raw and roasted
prisoners, without which all discussion
on prisoners is perfectly ridiculous.
Nothing can be more excellent than
this kind of labour for persons to whom
you mean to make labour as irksome
as possible ; but for this very reason,
it is the labour to which an untried
prisoner ought not to be put.

It is extremely uncandid to say that
a man is obstinately and incorrigibly
idle, because he wiU not submit to such
tiresome and detestable labour as that
of the tread-mill. It is an old feeling
among Englishmen that there is a
difference between tried and untried
persons, between accused and
victed

CBUEL TREATMENT OP

were in fashion before this new magis-
trate's plaything was inrented ; and
we are convinced that many indus-
trious persons, feeling that they have
not had their trial, and disgusted with
the nature of the labour, would refuse
to work at the tread-mill, who would
not be averse to join in any commoa
and fair occupation. Mr. Headlam
says, that labour may be a privilege as
well as a punishment So nuiy taking
physic be a privilege, in cases where it
ifl asked for as a diaritable relief, but
not if it is stuffed down a man's throat
whether he say yea or nay. Certainly
labour is not necessarily a punishment ;
nobody has said it is so ; but Mr.
Headlam's labour is a punishment,
because it is irksome, infamous, un-
asked for, and undeserved. This gen-
tleman however observes, that com-
mitted persons have cffended the laws;
and the sentiment expressed in these
words is the true key to his pamphlet
and his system — a perpetual tendency
to confound the convicted and the
accused.

con-

"With respect to those sentenced to
labour as a punishment, I apprehend there
is no di£ferenoe of opinion. All are agreed
that it is a great defect in any prison where
such convicts are unemployed. But as to
all other prisoners, whether debtors, per-
sons committed for trial, or convicts not
sentenced to hard labour, if they have no
means of subsisting themselves, and must,
if dischai^d, either laboiur for their liveli-
hood or apply for parochial relief; it seems
unf&ir to society at lai^, and especiidly to
those who maintain themselves by honest
industry, that those who, by offending the
laeot, have subjected themselves to imprp-
sonment, should be lodged, and clothed, and
fed^jrithout being called upon for the same
exertions which others have to use to obtain
such advantages."— (fltftuUam, pp. 28, 24.)

Now nothing can be more unfair
than to say that such men have of-
fended the laws. That is the very
question to be tried, whether they have
offended the laws or not ? It is merely
because this little circumstance is taken
for granted, that we have any quarrel
at all with Mr. Headlam and his schooL

" I can make," says Mr. Headlam, " every

delicate consideration for the rare case of a

persons. These old opinions 1 person perfectly innooent being committed

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

37

to jail on suapieioii of crime. Snch person
is deservedly an object of oompaasion, for
having fallen under circumstances which
subject him to be charged witii crime, and,
consequently, to be deprived of his liberty:
but if he has been in the habit of labouring
for his bread before his commitment, there
does not appear to be any addition to his
misfortune in being called upon to work
for his subsistence in prison."— {Seadlam,
p. 24.)

And yet Mr. Headlam describes this
▼ery pnnishment, which does not add
to the misfortunes of an innocent man,
to be generally disagreeable, to he duU,
irksotne, to excite a strong disliket to be a
duQ, monotonous labour^ to be a contriv-
ance which connects the idea of diseont'
fort with a jail (p. 36.). So that Mr.
Headlam looks upon it to be no in-
crease of an innocent man's misfor-
tunes, to be constantly employed npon
a dull, irksome, monotonous laboar,
which excites a strong dislike, and
connects the idea of discomfort with a
jaiL We cannot stop, or stoop to con-
sider, whether beating hemp is more or
less dignified than working in a mill.
The simple rule is this,— whatever
felons do> men not yet proved to be
felons should not be compelled to do.
It is of no use to look into laws become
obsolete by alteration of manners. For
these fifty years past, and before the
invention of tread-mills, untried men
were not put npon felons' work ; but
with the miU came in the mischief.
Mr. Headlam asks, How can men be
employed upon the ancient trades in
a prison ? — certainly they cannot ; but
are human occupations so few, and is
the ingenuity of magistrates and jailers
so limited, that no occupations can be
found for innocent men, but those which
are shameful and odious ? Does Mr.
Headlam really believe, that grown up
and baptized persons are to be satisfied
with such arguments, or repelled by
snch difficulties.

It is some compensation to an ac-
quitted person, that the labour be has
gone through unjustly in jail has taught
him some trade, given him an insight
into some species of labour in which he
may hereafter improve himself; but
Mr. Headlam's prisoner, after a verdict
of acquittal, has learnt no other art

than that of walking up hiU ; he has
nothing to rememl^r or recompense
him but three months of undeserved
ftnd unprofitable torment* The verdict
of the Jury has pronounced him steady
in his morals ; Uie conduct of the Jus-
tices has made him stiff in his joints.

But it is next contended by some
persons, that the poor prisoner is not
compelled to work, because he has the
alternative of starving if he refuses to
work. Ton take up a poor man upon
suspicion, deprive him of all his usual
methods of getting his livelihood, and
then giving him the first view of the
tread-mill, he of the Quorum thus ad-
dresses him: — ** My amiable friend,
we use no compulsion with untried
prisoners. Yon are free as air till
yon are found guilty ; only it is my
duty to inform yon, as you have no
money of your own, that the disposi-
tion to eat and drink which you have
allowed you sometimes feel, and upon
which I do not mean to cast any degree
of censure, cannot possibly be gratified
bnt by constant grinding in this ma«
chine. It has its inconveniences, I
admit ; but balance them against the
total want of meat and drink^ and de«
cide for yourself. You are perfectly
at liberty to make your choice, and I
by no means wish to influence your
judgment." Bat Mr. Nicoll has a
curious remedy for all this miserable
tyranny; he says it is not meant as a
pnnishment. But if I am conscious that
I never have committed the offehce,
certain that I have never been found
guilty of it, and find myself tost into
Uie middle of an infernal machine, by
the folly of those who do not know
how to use the power intrusted to
them, is it any consolation to me to be
told, that it is not intended as a punish-*
ment,that it is a lucubration of Justices,
a new theory of prison-discipline, a va-
luable county experiment going on at
the expense of my arms, legs, back,
feelings, character, and rights? We
must tie those prsBgustant punishers
down by one questioui Do you mean
to inflict any degree of punishment
upon persons merely for being sas-
pected ? — or at least any other degree
of punishment than that without which

D 3

38

CRUBL TREATMENT OF

criminal justice cannot exist, detention?
If 70a do, why let anyone ont upon
baU ? For the question between us is
not, bow suspected persons are to be
treated, and whether or not they are to
be punished ; but how suspected poor
persons are to be treated, who want
county support in prison. If to be
suspected is deserving of punishment,
then no man ought to be let ont upon
bail, but every one should be kept
grinding from accusation to trial ; and
so ought all prisoners to be treated for
offences not bailable, and who do not
want the county allowance. And yet no
grinding philosopher contends, that all
suspected persons should be put in the
mill — but only those who are too poor
to find bail, or buy proTisions.

If there are, according to the doc>
trines of the millers, to be two punish-
ments, the first for being suspected of
committing the offence, and the second
for committing it, there should be two
trials as well as two punishments. Is
the man really suspected, or do his
accusers only pretend to inspect him ?
Are the suspecting of better character
than the suspected ? Is it a light sus-
picion which may be atoned for by
grinding a peck a day ? Is it a bushel
case ? or is it one deeply criminal,
which requires the flour to be ground
fine enough for French rolls ? But we
must put an end to such absurdities.

It is very untruly stated, that a pri-
soner, before trial, not compelled to
work, and kept upon a plain diet,
merely sufficient to maintain him in
health, is better off than he was pre-
vious to his accusation ; and it is asked,
with a triumphant leer, whether the
situation of any man ought to be im-
proved, merely because he has become
an object of suspicion to his fellow-
creatures ? This happy and fortunate
man, however, is separated from his
wife and family ; his liberty is taken
away ; he is confined within four walls;
he has'the refiection that his family are
existing upon a precarious parish sup-
port, that his little trade and property
are wasting, that his character has
become infamous, that he has incurred
ruin by the malice of others, or by his
own crimes, that in a few weeks he b

to forfeit his life, or be banished from
everything he loves upon earth. This
is the improved situation, and the re-
dundant happiness which requires the
penal circumvolutions of the Justice's
mill to cut off so unjust .a balance of
gratification, and bring him a little
nearer to what he was before impri-
sonment and accusation. It would be
just as reasonable to say, that an idle
man in a fever is better off than a
healthy man who is well and earns his
bread. He may be better off if you
look to the idleness alone, though that
is doubtful; but is he better off if all
the aches, agonies, disturbances, deli-
riums, and the nearness to death, tcre
added to the lot ?

Mr. Headlam's panacea for all pri-
soners before trial, is the tread-mill:
we beg bis pardon — for all poor pri-
soners; but a man who is about to be
tried for his life, often wants all lua
leisure time to reflect upon his defence.
The exertions of every man within the
walls of a prison are necessarily crip-
pled and impaired. What can a pri-
soner answer who is taken hot and
reeking from the tread-mill, and asked
what he has to say in bis defence?
his answer naturally is — ''I have been
grinding com instead of thinking of
my defence, and have never been al-
lowed the proper leisure to think of
protecting my character and my life.**
This is a very strong feature of cruelty
and tyranny in the mill We ought to
be sure that every man ^has had the
fullest leisure to prepare for his de-
fence, that his mind and body have
not been harassed by vexatious and
compulsory employment The publio
purchase, at a great price, legal ac-
curacy, and legal talent, to accuse a
man who has not, perhaps, one shilling
to spend upon his defence. It is atro-
cious cruelty not to leave him full
leisure to write his scarcely legible
letters to his witnesses, and to use all
the melancholy and feeble means which
suspected poverty can employ for its
defence against the long and heavy
arm of power.

A prisoner, upon the system recom-
mended by Mr. Headlam, is committed,
perhaps at the end of August, and

UNTRIED PRISONERS.

39

brought to trial the March following ;
and, after all, the bill is either thrown
oat by the grand jury, or the prisoner
is fall/ acquitted; and it has been
found, we belieye, by actual returns,
that, of committed prisoners, about a
half are actually acquitted, or their ac-
cusations dismissed by the grand jury.
This may be very true, say the adro-
cates of this system, but we know that
many men who are acquitted are guilty.
They escape through some mistaken
lenity of the law, or some corruption
of evidence ; and as they have not
had their deserved punishment after
trial, we are not sorry they had it
before. The English law says, better
many guilty escape, than that one in-
nocent man perish; but the humane
notions of the mill are bottomed upon
the principle, that all had better be
punished lest any escape. They evince
a total mistrust in the jurisprudence of
the country, and say the results of trial
are so uncertain, that it is better to
punish all the prisoners before they
come into Court Mr. Headlam forgets
that general rules are not beneficial in
each individual instance, but beneficial
upon the whole; that they are preserved
becaase they do much more good than
harm, though in some particular in-
stances they do more harm than good ;
yet no respectable man violates them
on that account, but holds them sacred
for the great balance of advantage they
confer upon mankind. It is one of the
greatest crimes, for instance, to take
away the life of a man; yet there are
many men whose death wotdd be a
good to society, rather than an evil
Every good man respects the property
of others; yet to take from a worthless
miser, and to give it to a virtuous man
in distress, would be an advantage.
Sensible men are never staggered when
they see the exception. They know the
importance of the rule, and protect it
most eagerly at the very moment when
it is doing more harm than good. The
plain rule of justice is, that no man
should be punished till he is found
guilty; but because Mr. Headlam oc-
casionally sees a bad man acquitted
under this rale, and sent out un-
punished upon the world, he forgets

all the general good and safety of the
principle is debauched by the excep-
tion, and applauds and advocates a
system of prison discipline which ren-
ders injustice certain, in order to pre-
vent it from being occasional.

The meaning of all preliminary im-
prisonment is, that the accused person
should be forthcoming at the time of
trial. It was never intended as a
punishment Bail is a far better in-
vention than imprisonment, in cases
where the heavy punishment of the
offence would not induce the accused
person to run away from any bail
Now, let us see the enormous differ-
ence this new style of punishment
makes between two men, whose only
difference is, that one is poor and the
other rich. A and B are accused of
some bailable offence. A has no bail
to offer, and no money to support
himself in prison, and takes, therefore,
his four or five months in the tread-
mill. B gives bail, appears at his triaU
and both are sentenced to two months*
imprisonment. In this case, the one
suffers three times as much as the other
for the same offence : but suppose A
is acquitted and B found guilty, —
the innocent man has then laboured
in the tread-mill five months bec-ause
he was poor, and the guilty man labours
two months because he was rich. We
are aware that there must be, even
without the tread-mill, a great and an
inevitable difference between men (in
pari delicto), some of whom can give
bail, and some not ; but that difference
becomes infinitely more bitter and ob-
jectionable, in proportion as detention
before trial assumes the character of
severe and degrading punishment

If motion in the tread-mill was other-
wise as fascinating as millers describe
it to be, still the mere degradation of
the punishment is enough to revolt
every feeling of an iintried person. It is
a punishment consecrated to convicted
felons — and it has every character that
such punishment ought to have. An
untried person feels at once, in getting
into the mill, that he is put to the labour
of the guilty ; that a mode of employ-
ment has been selected for him, which
renders him infamous before a single

D 4

40

CRUEL TRBATifENT OF

fact or argument has been advanced
to establish his guilt. If men are put
into the tread-mill before trial, it is
literally of no sort of consequence
whether they are acquitted or not.
Acquittal does not shelter them from
punishment, for they have already been
punished. It does not screen them
from infamy, for they have already
been treated as if they were infamous ;
and the association of the tread-miU
and crimes is not to be got over. This
machine flings all the power of Juries
into the hands of the magistrates, and
makes every simple commitment more
terrible than a conviction ; for, in a
conviction, the magistrate considers
whether the offence has been committed
or not ; and does not send the prisoner
to jail unless he think him guilty ; but
in a simple commitment, a man is not
sent to jail because the magistrate is
convinced of his guilt, but because he
thinks a fair question may be made to
a Jury whether the accused person is
guilty or not. Still, however, the con-
victed and the suspected both go to the
same mill ; and he who is there upon
the doubt, grinds as much flour as the
other whose guilt is established by a
full examination of conflicting evidence.
Where is the necessity for such a vio-
lation of common sense andx^ommon
justice ? Nobody asks for the idle pri-
soner before trial more than^a very
plain and moderate diet. Offer him,
if you please, some labour which is less
irksome, and less infamous than the
tread-mill, — bribe him by improved
diet, and a share of the earnings ; there
will not be three men out of an hun-
dred who would refuse such an invita-
tion, and spurn at such an improvement
of their condition. A little humane
attention and persuasion, among men
who ought, upon every principle of jus-
tice, to be considered as innocent, we
should have thought much more con-
sonant to English justice, and to the
feelings of English magistrates, than
the Rack and Wheel of Cubitt.*

* It is singular enough, that we use these
observations in reviewing the pamphlet
and system of a gentleman remmable for
the urbanity of Ms manners, and the mild-
ness and humanity of his disposition*

Prison discipline is an object of con-
siderable importance ; but the common
rights of mankind, and the common
principles of justice, and humanity,
and liberty, are of greater consequence
even than prison discipline. Right and
wrong, innocence and guilt, must not
be confounded, that a prison-fancying
Justice may bring his friend into the
prison and say, " Look what a spectacle
of order, silence, and decorum we have
established here ! no idleness, all grind-
ing ! — we produce a penny roll every
second, — our prison is supposed to be
the best regulated prison in England, —
Cubitt is making us a new wheel of
forty-felon power, — look how white
the flour is, all done by untried pri-
soners — as innocent as lambs !** If
prison discipline be to supersede every
other consideration, why are penniless
prisoners alone to be put into the mill
before trial ? If idleness in jails is so
pernicious, why not put all prisoners in
the tread-miil, the rich as well as those
who are unable to support themselves ?
Why are the debtors left out? If
fixed principles are to be given up,
and prisons turned into a plaything for
magistrates, nothing can be more un*
picturesque than to see one half of the
prisoners looking on, talking, gaping,
and idling, while their poorer brethren
are grinding for dinners •and suppers.

It is a very weak argument to talk
of the prisoners earning their support,
and the expense to a county of main-
taining prisoners before trial,— as if
any rational man could ever expect to
gain a farthing by an expensive mil),
where felons are the moving power,
and justices the superintendents, or
as if such a trade must not neces-
sarily be carried on at a great loss. If
it were just and proper that prisoners,
before trial, should be condemned to
the mill, it wonld be of no consequence
whether the county gained or lost by
the trade. But the injustice of the
practice can never be defended by its
economy ; and the fact is that it in«
creases expenditure, while it violates
principle. We are aware, that by
leaving out repairs, alterations, and
first costs, and a number of little par-
ticulars, a very neat accoant, signed by

UNTRIED PRISOKEltS.

41

a jailer, may be made up, which shall
make the mill a miraculons combina-
tion of mercantile speculation and
moral improvement ; but we are too
old for all this. We accase nobody of
intentional misrepresentation. This is
quite out of the question with persons
so highly respectable; but men are con-
stantly misled by the spirit of system,
and egregiously deceive themseives —
even very good and sensible men.

Mr. Headlam compares the case of a
prisoner before trial, claiming support,,
to that of a pauper claiming relief from
his parish* But it seems to us that no
two cases can be more dissimihir. The
prisoner was no pauper before yon
took him up, and deprived him of his
customers, tools, and market It is by
your act and deed that he is fallen into
a state of pauperism ; and nothing can
be more preposterous, than first to
make a man a pauper, and then to
punish him for being so. It is true,
that the apprehension and detention of
the prisoner were necessary for the
purposes of criminal justice; but the
consequences arising &om this neces-
sary act cannot yet be imputed to the
prisoner. He has brought it upon him-
self, it will be urged ; but that remains
to be seen, and will not be known till
he is tried; and till it is known you
have no right to take it for granted,
and to punish him as if it were proved.

There seems to be in the minds of
some gentlemen a notion, that when
once a person is in prison, it is o^ little
consequence how he is treated after-
wards. The tyranny which prevailed,
of putting a person in a particular dress
before tnal, now abolished by act of
Parliament, was justified by this train
of reasoning: — The man has been
rendered infamous by imprisonment.
He cannot be rendered more so, dress
him as you will. His character is not
rendered worse by the tread-mill, than
it 18 by being sent to the place where
the tread-mill is at work. The sub-
stance of this way of thinking is, that
when a fellow-creature is in the frying-
pan, there is no harm in pushing him
into the fire ; that a little more misery
—a little more infamy — a few more
links, are of no sort of consequence in

a prison-life. If this monstrous style
of reasoning extended to hospitals as
well as prisons, there would be no harm
in breaking the small bone of a man*s
leg, because the large one was fractured,
or in peppering with small shot a per-
son who was wounded with a cannon*
balL The principle is, because a man
is very wretched, there is no harm in
making him a little more so. The
steady answer to all this is, that a man
is imprisoned before trial, sol^ for the
purpose of securing his appearance at
his trial ; and that no punishment nor
privation, not clearly and candidly
necessary for that purpose, should be
inflicted upon him. I keep you in
prison, because criminal justice would
be defeated by your flight, if I did not ;
but criminal justice can go on very well
without degrading you to hard and
infamous labour, or denying you any
reasonable gratification. For these
reasons, the first of those acts is just,
the rest are mere tyranny.

Mr. NicoU, in his opinion, tells us,
that he has no doubt Parliament would
amend the bill, if the omission were
stated to them. We, on the contrary,
have no manner of doubt that Parlia-
ment would treat such a petition with
the contempt it deserved. Mr. Peel is
much too enlightened and sensible to
give any countenance to such a great
and glaring error. In this case, — and
we wish it were a more frequent one
— the wisdom comes from within, and
the error firom without the walls of
Parliament

A prisoner before trial who can sup«
port himself, ought to be allowed every
fair and rational enjoyment which he
can purchase, not incompatible with
prison discipline. He should be allowed
to buy ale or wijie in moderation, — to
use tobacco, or anything else he can
pay for, within the above-mentioned
limits. If he cannot support himself,
and declines work, then he should be
supported upon a very plain, but still
a plentiful diet (something better, we
think, than bread and water) ; and all
prisoners before trial should be allowed
to work. By a liberal share of earnings
(or rather by rewards, for there would
be no earnings), and also by an im*

42

AMEBICA.

proYed diet, and in ibe hands of humane
magistrates*, there would soon appear
to be no necessity for appealing to the
tread-mill till trial was over.

This tread-mill, after trial, is cer-
tainly a very excellent method of
punibhment, as far as we are yet ac-
qaainted with its effects. We think,
at present, however, it is a little abused ;
and hereafter it is our intention to ex-
press our 'opinion upon the limits to
which it ^ught to be confined. Upon
this point, however, we do not much
differ from Mr. Headlam ; although in
his remarks on the treatment of pri-
soners before trial, we think he has
made a very serious mistake, and has
attempted (without knowing what he
was doing, and meaning, we are per-
suaded, nothing but what was honest
and just), to pluck up one of the
ancient landmarks of human justice.!

* All magistrates should remember, that
notlung ia more easy to a person entrusted
with power than to convince himself it is
his duty to treat his fellow-oreatures with
severity and rigour,— and then to persuade
himself that he is doing it very reluctantly,
and contrary to his real feeling.

t We hope this article will conciliate our
old friend Hr. Eoscoe; who is very angry
vritluus for some of our former lucubrations
on prison discipline,— and, above alL be-
cause we are not grave enough for nim.
The difference ia thus stated : — Six ducks
are stolen. Hr. Boscoe would commit the
man to prison for six weeks, perhaps,—
reason with him, argue with him, give him
tracts, send clergymen to him, work him
gently at some useftil trade, and try to turn
him from the habit of stalling poultry.
WewovHd keep him hard at work twelve
hours every day at the tread-mill, teed him
only BO as not to impair his hnlth, and
then give him as much of Hr. Boacoe's ejs-
tem as was compatible with our own; and
we think our method would diminish the
number of duck-stealers more efTectually
than that of the historian of Leo X. The
primary duck-stealer would, we think, be
as effectualhr deterred from repeating the
offence by the tenror of our imprisonment,
as 1^ the excellence of Hr. Boacoe's educa-
tion—and, what is of infinitely greater
consequence, innumerable duck-stealers
woula be prevented. Because punislmient
does not annihilate crime, it is foUy to say
it does not lessen it. It did not stop the
murder of Hrs. Bonatly ; but how many
Hrs. Donattys has it ke)jt alive 1 When we
recommend severity, we recommend, of
course, that d^nree of severity which will
not excite compassion for the suflierer, and
lessen the horror of the crime. This is why
we do not recommend torture and amputa-
tion of limba. When a man has been

AMERICA. (E. Beyiew, 1824.)

1. Travelt throuffh Part qf the United
State* and Canada, in 1818 and 1819. Sy
John H. Duncan, AJB. Glasgow. 1828.

2. LetterB from North AmerieOt written
during a Tour in the United Stmtee and
Canada. By Adam Hodgson. London.

1824

8. An . JSErottrsum trough the United
Statet and Canada, during the Tears
1822-8. By an English (xentleman; Lon-

* don. 1824.

There is a set of miserable persons in
England, who are dreadfully afraid of
America and everything American —
whose great delight is to see that
country ridiculed and vilified — and
who appear to imagine that all the
abuses which exist in this country ac-
quire additional vigour and chance of
duration from every book of travels
which pours forth its venom and false-
hood on the United States. We shall
from time to time call the attention of
the public to this subject, not from any
party spirit, but because we love trutb*
and praise excellence wherever we find
it ; and because we think the example
of America will in many instances tend

proved to have committed a crime, it is
expedient that society should make use of
that man for the diminution of crime: he
belongs to them for that purpose. Our
primary duty, in such a case, is so to treat
the culprit that many other persons may be
rendered better, or prevented from being
worse, by dread of the same treatment;
and, making this the principal obiect, to
combine with it as much as possible the
improvement of the individual. The ruffian
who killed Mr. Humford was hung within
forty-eight hours. Upon Hr. Boeooe's
principles, this was wrong ; for it certainly
was not the way to reclaim the man : — We
say on the contrary, the object was to do
anything with the man which would render
murders less frequent, and that the conver-
sion of the man was a mere trifle compared
to this. His death probably prevented the
necessity of reclaiming a dozen murderers.
That death will not, indeed, prevent all
murders in that county; but many who
have seen it, and many who have heard of
it, will swallow their revenge trcin the
dread of being hanged. Hr. Bosooe is very
severe upon our style : but poor dear Hr.
Boscoe should remember that men have
different tastes and different methods of

Soing to work. We feel these matters as
eepiy as he does. But why so cross upon
this or any other subject f

AMERICA.

to open the ejes ef Englishmen to their
trae interests.

The Economy of America is a great
and important object for our imitation.
The salary of Mr. Bagot, our late Am-
bassador, was, we believe, rather higher
than that of the President of the United
States. The Vice-President receives
rather less than the second Clerk of the
House of Commons ; and all salaries,
civil and military, are upon the same
scale; and yet no country is better
served than America! Mr. Hume has
at last persuaded the Englbh people
to look a little into their accounts, and
to see how sadly they are plundered.
But we ought to suspend our contempt
for America, and consider whether we
have not a very momentous lesson to
learn from this wise and cautious people
on the subject of economy.

^ A lesson on the importance of Reli-
gions Toleration, we are determined,
it would seem, not to learn, — either
from America, or from any other
quarter of the globe. The high sheriff
of New York, last year, was a Jew. It
was with the utmost difficulty thart a
bill was carried this year to allow the
first duke of England to carry a gold
stick before the King — because he was
a Catholic I — and yet we think our-
selves entitled to indulge in impertinent
sneers at America, — as if civilisation
did not depend more upon making
wise laws for the promotion of human
happiness, than in having good inns,
and post-horses, and civil waiters.
The circumstances of the Dissenters'
Marriage Bill are such as would excite
the contempt of a Chictaw or Cherokee,
if he could be brought to understand
them. A certain class of Dissenters
beg they may not be compelled Jo say
that they marry in the name of the
Trinity, because they do not believe in
the Trinity. Never mind, say the cor-
ruptionists, you must go on saying
you marry in the name of the Trinity
whether you believe in it or not. We
know that such a protestation from
you will be false: but, unless you make
it, your wives shall be concubines, and
your children illegitimate. Is it pos-
sible to conceive a greater or more
useless tyranny than this?

49

I " la the reUgiouB freedom which America
enj<^ I see a more unquestioned supe-
riority. In Britain we enjoy toleration,
but here they enjoy hberty. If Gtovernment
has a right to grant toleration to any par-
ticular set of religious opinions, it has also
a right to take it away ; and such a right
with regard toopinions exclusively religious
I would deny in all cases, because totally
inconsistent with the nature of religion, in
the proper meaning of the word« and equally
irreconcilable with dvil liberty, rightly so
called. God has given to each of us his
inspired word, and a rational mind to
which that word is addressed. He has also
made known to us, that each for himself
must answer at his tribunal for his prin-
ciples and conduct What maii, then, or
body of men, has a right to tell me, • You
do not think aright on religious subjects,
but we will tolerate your error?* The
answer is a most obvious one. ' Who gave
you authority to dictate?— or what exclu-
sive claim have you to infallibility ? ' If my
sentiments do not lead me into conduct
inconsistent with the welfiare of my fellow-
creatures, the question as to their accuracy
or fallacy is one between God and my own
consdenoe; and, though a fair sulgect for
ailment, is none for compulsion.

"The Inquisition undertook to regulate
astronomical science, and kings and par-
liaments have with equal propriety pre-
sumed to l^slate upon questions of
theology. The world has outgrown the
former, and it will one day be ashamed
that it has been so long of outgrowing the
latter. The founders of the American
republic saw the absurdity of employing
the attorney-general to refiite deism and
infidelity, or of attempting to influence
opinion on abstract subjects by penal en-
actment ; they saw also the injustice of
taxing the whole to support the religious
opinions of the few, and have set an exam-
ple which older governments will one day
or other be compelled to follow.

" In America the question is not, * What
is his creed?— but, What is his conduct?
Jews have all the privil^es of Christians ;
Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Indepen-
dents, meet on common ground. No
religious test is reqiured to quality for
public office, except in some cases a mere
verbal assent to the truth of the Christian
religion; and, in every court throughout
the country, it is optional whether you give
your affirmation or your oath."— (2>imcan'«
2Vawto, Vol II. pp. 828—330.)

In fact, it is hardly possible for any
nation to show a greater superiority
over another than the Americans, in this

44

particular, have done over this country.
They have fairly and completely, and
probably for ever, extinguished that
spirit of religious persecution which has
been the employment and the curse
of mankind for four or five centuries,
— not only that persecution which
imprisons and scourges for religious
opinions, but the tyranny of incapaci-
tation, which, by disqualifying from
civil offices, and cutting a man off from
the lawful objects of ambition, endea-
vours to strangle religious freedom in
silence, and to enjoy all the advantages,
without the blood, and noise, and fire
of persecution* What passes in the
mind of one mean blockhead is the
general history of all persecution.
**This man pretends to know better
than me — ^I cannot subdue him by ar-
'gument ; but I will take care he shall
never be mayor or alderman of the
town in which he lives ; I will never
consent to the repeal of the Test Act
or to Catholic Emancipation; I will
teach the fellow to differ from me in
religious opinions!" So says the Epis-
copalian to the Catholic — and so the
Catholic says to the Protestant. But
the wisdom of America keeps them all
down — ^secures to them all their just
rights — gives to each of them their
separate pews, and bells, and steeples
— ^makes them all aldermen in their
turns — and quietly extinguishes the
faggots which each is preparing for the
combustion of the other. Nor is this
indifference to religious subjects in the
American people, but pure civilisation
—a thorough comprehension of what
is best calculated to secure the public
happiness and peace — and a determi-
nation that this happiness and peace
shall not be violated by the insolence
of any human being, in the garb, and
under the sanction, of religion. In this
particular, the Americans are at the
head of all the nations of the world :
and at the same time they are, espe-
cially in the Eastern and Midland
States, 80 far from being indifferent on
subjects of religion, that they may be
most justly characterised as a very
religious people . but they are devout
without being unjust (the great problem
in religion); a higher proof of civilisa-

amcrica;

tion than painted tea-ctips, water proof
leather, or broad cloth at two guineas a
yard*

America is exempted, by its very
newness as a nation, from many of the
evils of the old governments of Europe.
It has no mischievous remains of
feudal institutions, and no violations of
political economy sanctioned by time,
and older than the age of reason. If
a man find a partridge upon his ground
eating his com, in any part of Ken-»
tucky or Indiana, he may kill it, even
if his father be not a Doctor of Divi-
nity. The Americans do not exclude
their own citizens from any branch of
commerce which they leave open to all
the rest of the world.

"One of them said, that he was well
acquainted with a British subject, residing
at Newark, Upper Canada, who annually
smuggled flrom 600 to 1000 chests of tea
into that province firom the United States.
He mentioned the name of this man, who
he said was growing very rich in conse-
quence } and he stated the manner in which
the fraud was managed. Now» as all the
tea ought to be brought from England, it
is of course very expensive; and therefore
the Canadian tea dealers, after buying one
or two chests at Montreal or elsewhere,
which have the Custom-house mark upon
them, fill them up ever afterwards with tea
brought from the United States. It is cal-
culated that near 10,000 chests are annually
consumed in the Canadas, of which not
more than 2000 or 8000 come from Europe.
Indeed, when I had myself entered Canada,
I was told that of every fifteen pounds of
tea sold there thirteen were smuggled. The
profit upon smutting this article is ftvm
60 to 100 per cent., and, with an extensive
and wild frontier like Canada, cannot be
prevented. Indeed it every year increases,
and is brought to a more perfect system.
But I suppose that the English Govern-
ment, whidh is the perfection of wisdom,
will never allow the Canadian merchants to
trade direct to China, in order that (from
pure charity) the whole profit of the tea
trade may be given up to the United
SUdeA/*— (Excursion, pp. 384^ 896.)

" You will readily conceive, that it is with
no small mortification that I hear these
American merchants talk of sending their
ships to London and Liverpool, to take in
goods or specie, with which to purchase
tea for the supply of European ports almost
within sight of our own shores. They often
taunt me, by asking me what our govern*

AMERICA.

45

jnent can possibly mean by prohibiting us
from engaging in a profitable trade, which
is open to them and to all the world? or
where can be onr boasted liberties, while
we tamely snbmit to the infiraction of our
natural rights, to supply a monopoly as
absurd as it is imjust, and to honour the
caprice of a company who exclude their
fellow-subjects firom a branch of commerce
which th^ do not pursue themselves, but
leave to the enterprise of foreigners, or
commercial rivals? On such occasions I
can only reply, that both our government
and people are growing wiser ; and that if
the charter of the East India Company be
renewed, when it n«ct expires, I will allow
them to infer, that the people of England
have little influence in the administration
of thehr own aflJEdrs.**— (J7od^»on'« Letters,
Vol. IL pp. 128, 129.)

Thoagh America is a confederation
of republics, they are ia many cases
much more amalgamated than the
yarloos parts of Great Britain. If a
citizen of the United States can make
a shoe, he is at liberty to make a shoe
anywhere between Lake Ontario and
New Orleans, — he may sole on the
Mississippi, — ^heel on the Missouri, —
measure Mr. Birkbeck on the little
Wabash, or take (which our best poli-
ticians do not find an easy matter) the
length of Mr. Mnnro*s foot on the baoks
of the Potowmae. But woe to the cob-
bler, who, having made Hessian boots
for the iddermen of Newcastle, should
venture to invest with these coriaceous
integuments the leg of a liege subject
at York. A yellow ant in a nest of
red ants — a butcher's dog in a fox
kennel^a mouse in a bee-hive, — all
feel the effects of untimely intrusion ;
— but far preferable their fate to that
of the misguided artisan, who, misled
by sixpenny histories of England, and
conceiving his country to have been
united at the Heptarchy, goes forth
from his native town to stitch freely
within the sea-girt limits of Albion.
Him the mayor, him the alderman,
him' the recorder, him the quarter ses-
sions would worry. Him the justices
before trial would long to get into the
tread-mill*; and would much lament

* This puts us in mind of our friend Mr.
Headlam, who, we hear, has written an
answer to our Observations on the Tread-
mill before Trial. It would have been a

that, hj a recent act, they eonld not do
so, even with the intruding tradesman's
consent; but the moment he was tried,
they would push him in with redoubled
energy, and leave him to tread himself
into a conviction of the barbarous in-
stitutions of his corporation*divided
country.

Too much praise cannot be given to
the Americans for their great attention
to the subject of Education. All the
public lands are surveyed according to
the direction of Congress. ^ They are
divided into townships of* six miles
square, by lines running with the car-
dinal points, and consequently crossing
each other at right angles. Every
township is divided into 86 sections,
each a mile square, and containing 640
acres. One section in each township
is reserved, and given in perpetuity for
the benefit of common schools. In
addition to this the states of Tennessee
and Ohio have received grants for the
support of colleges and academies.
The appropriation generally in the new
States for seminaries of the higher
orders, amount to one fifth of those for

very easy thing for us to have hung Mr.
Headlam up as a spectacle to the united
Kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ire-
land, the princi^ility of Wales, and the
town of Berwick-on-Tweed ; but we have
no wish to make a worthy and resnectable
man appear ridiculous. For these reasons
we have not even looked at his pamphlet,
and we decline entering into a controversy
upon a point, where -among men of sense
and humanity (who had not heated them-
selves in the dispute), there cannot possibly
be anv difference of opinion. All members
of both Houses of Parliament were unani-
mous in their condemnation of the odious
and nonsensical practice of working prison-
ers in the tread-mill before trial. It had
not one single advocate. Mr. Headlam and
the msgistrates of the North Biding^ in
their eagerness to save a relic of their prison
system, forgot themselves so far as to
petition to be intrusted with the ])ower of
putting prisoners to work before trial, witfh
their own consent— the answer of the Legis-
lature was, ** We will not trust you/*— the
severest practical rebuke ever received by
any public body. We will leave it to others
to determine wnether it was deserved. We
have no doubt the great body of magistrates
meant well. They must have meant well-
but they have been sadly misled, and have
thrown odium on the subordinate adminis-
tration of justice, which it is far from
deserving on other occasions, in their hands.
This strange piece of nonsense is, however,
now well eu.6Jdd.—£equie8cat in pace ! *

46

AMERICA.

common schools. It appears from Sej*
ben's Statistical Annals, that the laud,
in the states and territories on the east
side of the Mississippi, in which appro-
priations have been made, amounts to
237,300 acres ; and according to the
ratio aboTe mentioned, the aggregate
on the east side of the Mississippi is
7,900,000. The same system of appro-
priation applied to the west, will make,
for schools and colleges, 6,600,000; and
the total appropriation for literary pur-
poses, in tjie new states and territories,
14,500,000 acres, which, at two dollars
per acre, would be 29,000,000 dollars.
These facts are very properly quoted
by Mr. Hodgson ; and it is impossible
to speak to6 highly of their yalne and
importance. They quite put into the
back-ground everything which has
been done in the Old World for the
improvement of the lower orders, and
confer deservedly upon the Americans
the character of a wise, a reflecting, and
a virtuous people.

It is rather surprising that such a
people, spreading rapidly over so vast
a portion of the earth, and cultivating
all the liberal and useful arts so suc-
cessfully, should be so extremely sen-
sitive and touch V as the Americans are
said to be. We really thought at one
time they would have fitted out an
armament against the Edinburgh and
Quarterly Reviews, and burnt down
Mr. Murray's and Mr. Constable's
shops, as we did the American Capitol.
We, however, remember no other anti-
American crime of which we were
guilty, than a preference of Sfaakspeare
and Milton over' Joel Barlow and
Timothy Dwight. That opinion we
must still take the liberty of retaining.
There is nothing in Dwight comparable
to the finest passages of Paradise Lost,
nor is Mr. Barlow ever humorous or
pathetic, as the great Bard of the Eng-
lish stage is humorous and pathetic
We have always been strenuous* advo-

* AruAeat women, whether in or out of
breeches, will of course ima^ne that we are
the enemies of the institutions of our
country^ because we are the admirers of the
institutions of America: but circumstenoes
di£fer. American institutions are too new,
English institutions are ready made to our
hands. If we were to build the house

cates for, and admirers of, America—
not taking our ideas from the over-
weening vanity of the weaker part of
the Americans themselves, but from
what we have observed of their real
energy and wisdom. It is very natural
that we Scotch, who live in a little
shabby scraggy comer of a remote
island, with a climate which cannot
ripen an apple, should be jealous of the
aggressive pleasantry of more favoured
people ; but that Americans, who have
done so much for themselves, and re-
ceived so much from nature, should be
flung into such convulsions by English
Reviews and Magazines, is really a sad
specimen of Columbian juvenility. We
hardly dare to quote the following ac-
count of an American rout, for fear of
having our motives misrepresented, —
and strongly suspect that there are but
few Americans who could be brought
to admit that a Philadelphia or Boston
concern of this nature is not quite equal
to the most brilliant assemblies of
London or Paris.

C(

A tea party is a serious thii% in this
ooimtry; and some of those at which I
have been present in New York and else-
where, have been on a very large scale. In
the modem houses the two principal apart-
ments are on the first floor, and communi-
cate by large folding-doors, which on gala
days throw wide their ample portals, con-
verting the two apartments into one. At
the largest party which I have seen, there
were about thirty youngs ladies present, and
more than as many gentlemen. Every
aotk, chair, and footstool were occupied by
the ladies, and little enough room some at
them appeared to have after all. The gen-
tlemen were obliged to be content with
walking i^> and down, talking now with
one lady, now with another. Tea was
brought in by a couple of blacks, carrying
large trays, one covered with cups, the
other with cake. Slowly making the round«
and retiring at intervals for additional sup-
plies, the ladies were gpradually gone over;

afresh, we might perhaps avail ooraelves of
the improvements of a new plan; but we
have no sort of wish to pull down an excel-
lent house, .strong, warm, and (»mfortable,
because, upon second trial, we might be
able to alter and amend it,— a principle
which would perpetuate demolition and
construction. Our plan, where circum-
stances -are tolerable, is to sit down and
enjoy ourselves.

AMERICA.

47

uid ftfter ranch patience Hie gentiemen
b^an to enjoy the heverage * which cheers
but not inebriates ; ' still walking about, or
leaning against the wall, with the cup and
saucer in their hand.

. "As soon as the first course was over, the
hospitable trajys again entered, bearing a
chaos of preserves— peaches, pine4q>ple8,
ginger, oranges, citrons, pear^ && in tempt-
ing display. A few of the young gentlemen
now accompanied the resolution of the
trays, and sedulously attended to the plea-
sure of the ladies. The party was so
numerous that the period between the
commenconent and the termination of the
round was sufficient to justify a new solici-
tation; and so the ceremony continued,
with Tery little intermission, during the
whole CTening. Wine succeeded the pre-
senres, and dried fhiit followed the wine ;
which, in its turn, was supported by sand-
wiches in the name of supper, and a forlorn
Itoipe of confectionary and frost work. I
pitied the poor blacks who, like Tantalus,
had such a proftision of dainties the whole
evening at their finger ends, without the
IXMsibility of partaking of them. A little
music and dancing gave variety to the
scene; whi<di to some of us was a source of
considerable satisfiiction; for when a num-
ber of ladies were on the floor, those who
cared not for the dance had the pleasure of
getting a seat. About eleven o'clock I did
myself the honour of escorting a lady home,
and was well pleased to have an excuse for
escaping.*'— (i>»nca»'* Travels, VoL IL
pp. 279, 280.)

The coaches must be given up ; so
must the roads, and so must the inns.
Thej are of course what these accom-
modations are in all new countries;
and much like what English great-
grandfathers talk about as existing in
Uiis country at the first period of their
recollection. The great inconvenience
of American inns, however, in the eyes
of an Englishman, is one which more
sociable travellers must feel less acutely
— ^we mean the impossibility of being
alone, of having a room separate from
the rest of the company. There is
nothing which an Englishman enjoys
more than the pleasure of sulkiness,
— of not being forced to hear a word
from anybody which may occasion to
him the necessity of replying. It is
not so much that Mr. Bull disdains to
talk, as that Mr. Bull has nothing to
say. His forefathers have been out of

spirits for six or seven hundred years,
and seeing nothing but fog and vapour,
he is out of spirits too; and when there
is no selling or buying, or no business
to settle, he prefers being alone and
looking at the fire. If any gentleman
were in distress, he would willingly
lend a helping hand ; but he thinks it
no part of neighbourhood to talk to a
person because he happens to be near
him. In short, with many excellent
qualities, it must be acknowledged that
the English are the most disagreeable
of all the nations of Europe, — more
surly and morose, with less disposition
to please, to exert themselves for the
^ood of society, to make small sacri-
fices, and to put themselves out of their
way. They are content with Magna
Charter and Trial by Jury; and think
they are not bound to excel the rest of
the world in small behaviour, if they are
superior to them in g^at institutions.

We are terribly afraid that some
Americans spit upon the floor, even
when that floor is covered by good
carpets. Now all claims to civilisation
are suspended till this secretion is
otherwise disposed of. No English
gentleman has spit upon the floor since
the Heptarchy.

The curiosity for which the Ameri-
cans are so much laughed at, is not
only venial, but laudable. Where men
live in woods and forests, as is the case,
of course, in remote American settle-
ments, it is the duty of every man to
gratify the inhabitants by telling them
his name, place, age, office, virtues,
crimes, children, fortune, and remai'ks:
and with fellow-travellers it seems to
be almost a matter of necessity to do
so. When men ride together for 300 or
400 mil^ through wo^s and prairies,
it is of the greatest importance that
they should be able to guess at subjects
most agreeable to each other, and to
multiply their common topics. With-
out knowing who your companion is,
it is difficult to know both what to say
and what to avoid. You may talk of
honour and virtue to an attorney, or
contend with a Virginian planter that
men of a fair colour have no right to
buy and sell men of a dusky colour.
The following is a lively description of

48

the rights of ii)tent>gation, as mider-
stood and practised in America.

" As for the InquisiUvettets of the Ameri-
cans, I do not think it has been at ail
exaggerated.— They certainly are, as they
profess to be, a very inquiring people ; and
if we may sometimes be disposed to dispute
the claims of their love qf knowing to the
character of a liberal cariosity, we must at
least admit that they make a most liberal
use of every means in their power to gratify
it. I have seldom, however, had any diffi-
culty in repressing their home questions, if
I wished it, and without ofTending them;
but I more frequently amused myself by
putting them on the rack, civilty, and ap-
parently unconsciously, eluded their inqui-
ries for a time, and then awakening their
gratitude by such a discovery of myself as
I might choose to make. Sometimes a man
would place himself at my side in the wil-
derness, and ride for a mile or two without
the smallest communication between us,
except a slight nod of the head. He would
then, perhaps, make some grave remark on
the weather, and if I assented, in a mono-
syllable, he would stick to my side for
another mile or two, when he would com-
mence his attack. ' I reckon, stranger, you
do not belong to these partsf— *No, sir;
I am not a native of Alabama.'— ' I guess
you are fh)m the north ? *— * No, Sir ; I am
not from the north.' — ' I guess you found
the roads mighty muddy, and the creeks
swimming. Ton are come a long way, I
guess?*— *No, not so very tar; we lutve
travelled a few hundred miles since we
turned our faces westward.' — * I guess you

have seen Mr. -, or General f *

(mentioning the names of some well-known
individuals in the Middle and Southern
States, who were to serve as guide-posts to
detect our route) ; but ' I have not the plea-
sure of knowing any of them,' or, * I have
the pleasure of knowing all,' equally de-
feated his purpose, but not his hopes. ' I
reckon, stranger, you have had a good crop
of cotton this year?' — 'I am told, sir, the
crops have been imusuaUy abundant in
GaroUna and Georgia.'—' You grow tobacco,
then, I guess?' (toti^ick me to Yirginia).
— ' No ; I do not grow tobacco.' Here a
modest inquirer would give up in despair,
and trust to the chapter of accidents to
develope my name and history ; but I gene*
rally rewarded his modesty, and excit^
his gratitude, by telling him I would tor-
ment him no longer.
**The courage of a thorough-bred Yankee *

• In America, the term Yankee is applied
to the natives of New England only, and is
geuerally used with an air of pleasantry.

AMEBICA.

would rise with his difficulties ; and after a
decent interval, he would resume : ' I hope
no offence, sir ; but you know we Yankees
lose nothing for want of asking. I guess,
stranger, you are from the old country P *—
* Well, my firiend, you have guessed right at
last, and I am sure you deserve something
for your perseverance : and now I suppose
it will save us both trouble if I proceed to
the second part of the story, and tell you
where I am going. I am going to New
Orleans.' This is really no exaggerated
picture: dialogues, not indeed in these very
words, but to thU ttffeett occurred continu-
ally, uid some of them more minute and
extended than I can venture upon in a
letter. I ought, however, to say, that many
questions lose inuch of their familiarity
when travelling in the wilderness. 'Where
are you from ? ' and, ' Whither are yon
bound? ' do not appear impertinent inter-
rogations at sea; and often in the western
wilds I found myself making inquiries
which I should have thought very f^ree and
easy at liomA.**—{Sodsfton*s Letten, VbL IL
pp. 82—86.)

In all new and distant settlements
the forms of law must, of coarse, be
very limited. No justice's warrant is
current in the Dismal Swamp; consta-
bles are exceedingly puzzled in the
neighboorhood of the Mississippi; and
there is no tread-mill, either before or
after trial, on the Little Wabash.
The consequence of this is, that the
settlers take the law into their own
hands, and give notice to a justice-
proof delinquent to quit the territory.
If this notice is disobeyed, they as-
semble and whip the culprit, and this
failing, on the second visit, they cut off
his ears. In short. Captain Rock has
his descendants in America. Mankind
cannot live together without some ap-
proximation to justice ; and if the
actual government will not govern
well, or cannot govern weU, is too
wicked or too weak to do so — then
men prefer Rock to anarchy. The
following is the best account we have
seen of this system of irregular justice.

"After leaving Garlyle, I took the Shaw-
nee town road that branches off to the
S.E., and passed the Walnutt Hills, and
Moore's Prairie. These two places had a
year or two before been infested by a noto-
rious gang of robbers and forgers, who had
fixed themselves in these wild parts in
order to avoid justice. As the country

AMERICA.

became more settlecl, these desperadoes
became more and more troublesome, llie
inhabitants therefore took that method of
getting rid of them that had been adopted
not many years ago in Hopkinson and
Henderson counties, Kentucky* and which
is absolutely necessary in new aqd thinly
settled districts, where it is almost impos-
sible to punish a criminal according to legal
forms.

**(>& such occasions, therefore, all the
quiet and industrious men of a district
form themselves into companies, under the
name of ' Regulators.' They appoint offi-
cers, put themselves under their orders,
and bind themselves to assist and stand by
each other. The first step they then take
is to send notice to any notorious vaga-
bonds, desiring them to quit the State in a
certain number of dajrs, under the penalty
of receiving a domiciliiEKry visit. Should the
person who receives the notice refuse to
comply, they suddenly assemble, and when
unexpected, go in the night time to the
rogue's house, take him out, tie him to a
tree, and give him a severe whipping, every
one of the party striking him a certain
number of times.

"This discipline is generally sufficient to
drive off the culprit; but should he con-
tinue obstinate, and refuse to avail himself
of another warning, the Emulators pay him'
a second visit, inflict a still severer whip-
ping, vrith.the addition probably of cutting
off both his ears. No culprit has ever been
known to rranain after a second visit. For
instance, an old man, the fistther of afiamUy,
all of whom he educated as robbers, fixed
himaelf at Moore's Prairie, and committed
numerous thefts, &c. &c. He was hardy
enough to remain after the first visit, when
both he and his. sons received a whipping.
At the second visit the Begulators punished
him very sevemly, and cut off his ears.
This drove him off, together with his whole
gang; and travellers can now pass in per-
fect HKfety where it was once dangerous to
travel alone.

"There is also a company of Begulators
near Yincennes, who have broken up a
notorious gang of coiners and thieves who
had fixed themselves near that place.
These rascals, before they were driven off,
had parties settled at different distances in
the woods, and thus held communication
and passed horses and stolen goods from
one to another; firom the Ohio to Lake Erie,
and from thence into Canada or the New
England States. Thus it was next to im-
possible to detect the robbers, or to recover
the stolen property.

** This practice of Beffidating seems very
strange to an European. I have talked
Vol. U.

49

with some of the chief men of the Begula-
tors, who all lamented the necessity of such
a system. They veiy sensibly remarked,
that when the country became more thickly
settled, there would no longer be any
necessity tar such proceedings, and that
they should all be delighted at being able
to obtain justice tn a more formal manner.
I forgot to mention that the rascals pun-
ished have sometimes prosecuted the Begu-
lators for an assault. The juries, however,
knowing the bad character of the prosecu-
tors, would give but trifling damages,
which, divided among so many, amounted
to next to nothing for eadi individual^"—
{Exeurtion, pp. 28»— 23«.)

This same traveller mentions his
having met at table three or four Ame-
rican ex-kings — presidents who had
served their time, and had retired into
private life; he observes also upon the
effect of a democratical government ia
preventing mobs. Mobs are created
by opposition to the wishes of the
people ;— but when the wishes of the
people are consulted so completely as
they are consulted in America— all
motives for the agency of mobs are
done away.

** It is, indeed, entirely a government of
opinion. Whatever the people wish is done.
If they want any alteration of laws, tariffs,
&o., they inform their representatives, and
if there be a majority that wish it, the
alteration is made at once. In most Euro-
pean countries there is a portion of the
population denominated the mob, who, not
being acquainted with real liberty, give
themselves up to occasional flts of licen-
tiousness. But in the United States there
is no mobt for every man feels himself free.
At the time of Burr's conspiracy, Mr. Jef-
ferson said, that there was little to be
apprehended firom it, as every man felt
himself a part of the general sovereignty.
The event proved the truth of this asser-
tion; and Burr, who in any other country
would have been hanged, drawn, and quar-
tered, is at present leading an obscure life
in the city of New York, despised by every
oiie.**—(£!xcurHon, p. 70.)

It is a real blessing for America to
be exempted from that vast bnrthen of
taxes, the consequences of a long series
of foolish just and necessary wars,
carried on to please kings and queens,
or ihe waiting-maids and waiting-lords
or gentlemen who have always go-
verned kings and queens in the Old

50

X

World. The Americans owe tiiis good
to the niewness of their government ;
and though there are few classical
associations or historical recollections
in the United States, this barrenness is
well purchased bj the absence of all
the feudal nonsense, inveterate abuses,
and profligate debts of an old country.

*'Tlie good effects of a firee government
are visible throughout the whole country.
There are no tithes, no poor-rates, no ex-
cise, no heavy intenial taxes, no oommercial
monopolies. An American can make can-
dles if he have tallow, can distil brandy if
he have grapes or peaches, and can make
beer if he. have malt and hope, without
asking leave of any one, and much less with
any fear of incurring punishment. How
would a Ikrmer's wife there be astonished,
if told that it was contrary to law for her
to make soap out of the potass obtained on
the fkrm, and of the grease she herself had
saved! When an American has made these
articles, he may build his little vessel, and
take them without hlnderanoe to any part
of the world ; for there is no rich company
of merchants that can say to him, *You
shall not trade to India ; and you shall not
buy a pound of tea of the Chinese ; as, by
so doing, you would infringe upon our privi-
leges.' In consequence of this fireedom, all
the seas are covered with their vessels, and
the people at home are active and indepen-
dent. I never saw a beggar in any part of
the United States ; nor was I ever asked for
charity but once— and that was by an Inah-
man."— (.Erewrftoii, pp. 70, 71.)

America is so differently situated
from the old governments of Europe,
that the United States afford no poli-
tical precedents that are exactly- appU-
cable to our old governments. There
is no idle and discontented population.
When they have peopled themselves
np to the Mississippi, they cross to the
Missouri, and will go on till they are
stopped by the Western Ocean; and
then, when there are a nnmber of
persons who have nothing to do, and
nothing to gain, no hope for lawful
industry and great interest in pro-
moting changes, we may consider tiieir
situation as somewhat similar to oar
own, and their example as touching us
more nearly. The changes in the con-
stitution of the particular States seem
to be very frequent, very radical, and
to us very alarming;— they seem, how-

AMERICA.

ever, to be thought very little of in that
country, and to be very little heard of
In Europe. Mr. Duncan, in the fol-
lowing passage, speaks of them with
European feelings.

"The other great obstacle to the pros-
perity of the American nation, universal
suflhige*, will not exhibit the fUU extent of
its evil tendency for a long time to come;
and it is possible that ere that time some
antidote may be disooverA, to prevent or
alleviate the mischief which we might
naturally expect from it. It does, however,
seem ominous of evil, that so little ceremony
is at present used with the constitutions of
the various States. The people of Connec-
ticut, not contented with having prospered
abundantly under their old system, have
lately assembled a convention, composed of
del^ates from all parts of the country, in
which the former order of things has been
condemned entirely, and a oompletdy new
constitution manufactured ; which, among
other things, provides for the same process
being again gone through as soon as the
prqfanum tmlffus takes it into its head to '
desire it.t A sorry legagr the British Con-
stitution would be to us, if it were at the
mercy of a meeting of delegates, to be smn-
moned i^henever a mqority of the people
took a fiancy for a new one; and I am afhtid
that if the*Americans continue to cherish a
fondness for such repairs, the Highland-
man's pistol with its new stock, lock, and
barrel, will bear a close resemblance to
what is ultimately produced.*'— (DwncoM**
TraveU, YoL II. pp. 835, 336.)

In the Excursion there is a list of
the American navy, which, in conjunc-
tion with the navy of France, wiU one
day or another, we fear, settle the
Catholic question in a way not quite
agreeable to the Earl of Liverpool for
the time being, nor very creditable to
the wisdom of those ancestors of whom
we hear, and from whom we suffer so
much. The regulations of the Ame-
rican navy seem to be admirable. The
States are making great exertions to
increase this navy ; and since the cap-
ture of so many English ships, it has

* In the greater number of the States,
every white person, 21 years of age, who has
paid taxes lor one year, is a voter; in
others, some additional qualifications are
required, but they are not such as materi-
ally to limit the privilege.

f The people of the State of New York
have subsequently taken a similar fancy to
clout the cauidtxm. (1822.)

AMERICA.

51

become the faToorite science of the
people at large. Their flotillas on the
lakes completelj defeated ours daring
the last war.

Fanaticismof every description seems
to rage and flourish in America, which
has no Establishment, in about the same
degree which it does here under the
nose of an Established Church ; — they
have their projects and prophetesses,
their preaching encampments, female
preachers, and every variety of noise,
foUy, and nonsense, like ourselves.
Among the most singular of these
fanatics, are the Harmonites. Bapp,
their founder, was a dissenter from the
Lutheran Church, and therefore, of
course, the Lutheran clergy of Stut-
gard (near to which he lived) began to
put Mr. Kapp in white sheets, to prove
him guilty of theft, parricide, treason,
and all the usual cpmes of which men
dissenting from established churches
are so often guilty, — and delicate hints
were given respecting faggots ! Stat-
gard abounds with underwood and
clergy ; and — away went Mr. Bapp to
the United States, and, with a great
multitude of followers, settled about
twenty-four miles from our country-
man Mr. Birkbeck. His people have
here built a large town, and planted a
vineyard, where they make very agree-
able wine. They carry on also a very
extensive system of husbandry, and
are the masters of many flocks and
herds. They have a distillery, brewery,
tannery, make hats, shoes, cotton and
woollen cloth, and everything neces-
sary to the comfort of life. Every one
belongs to some particular trade. But
in bad weather, when there is danger
of losmg their crops, Bapp blows a
horn, and calls them all together.
Over every trade there is a head man,
who receives the money, and gives a
receipt, signed by Bapp, to whom all
the money collected is transmitted.
When any of these workmen wants a
hat or a coat, Bapp signs him an order
for the garment, for which he goes to
the store, and is fitted. They have one
large store where these manufactures
are deposited. This store is much
resorted to by the neighbourhood, on
accoant of the goodness and cheapness

of the articles. They have built an ex-
cellent house for their founder, Bapp,
— as it might have been predicted they
would have done. The Harmonites
profess equality, community of goods,
and celibacy, for the men and women
(let Mr. Malthus hear this) live sepa-
rately, and are not allowed the slightest
intercourse. In order to keep up their
numbers, they have once or twice sent
over for a supply of Germans, as they
admit no Americans, of any intercourse
with whom they are very jealous. The
Harmonites dress and live plainly. It
is a part of their creed that they should
do so. Bapp, however, and the head
men have no such particular creed for
themselves; and indulge in wine, beer,
grocery, and other irreligious diet.
Bapp is both governor and priest, —
preaches to them in church, and directs
all their proceedings in their working
hours. In short, Bapp seems to have
made use of the religions propensities
of mankind, to persuade one or two
thousand fools to dedicate their lives
to his service ; and if they do not get
tired, and fling their prophet into a
horse-pond, they will in all probability
disperse as soon as he dies.

Unitarians are increasing very fast
in the United States, not being kept
down by charges from bishops and
archdeacons, their natural enemies.

The author of the Excursion remarks
upon the total absence of all games
in America. No cricket, foot-ball, nor
leap-frog — all seems solid and profit-
able.

** One thing that I could not help remark-
ing with regard to the Americans in general,
is the total want of all those games and
sports that obtained for our oountiy the
appellation of ' Merry England.' Although
children usually transmit stories and sports
firom one generation to another, and al-
though many of our nursery games and .
tales are supposed to have been imported
into England in the vessels of Hengist and
Horsa^ yet our brethren in the United
States seem entirely to have forgotten the
childish amusements of our oommcm ances-
tors. In America I never saw even the
schoolboys playing at any game whatsoever.
Cricket, foot-ball, quoits, &c. i^pear to be
utterly unknown ; and I believe that if an
American were to see grown-up men playing
at cricket, he would express as much as-

B 2

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN EOCK.

52

tonishment an the Italians did when some
Englishmen played at this finest of all
games in the Casina at Florence. Indeed,
that joyous spirit which, in our country,
animates not only childhood, but also ma-
turer age, can rarely or never be seen
among the inhabitants of the United
Btate8."~(.Er<n«r9um, pp. 602, 603.)

These are a few of the leading and
prominent circamstances respe<!ting
America, mentioned in the various
works before us : of which works we
can recommend the Letters of Mr.
Hodgson, and the Excursion into
Canada, as sensible, agreeable books,
written in a very fair spirit

America seems, on the whole, to be
a conntry possessing vast advantages,
and little inconveniences ; they have
a cheap government, and bad roads ;
they pay no tithes, and have stage
coaches without springs. They have
no poor-laws, and no monopolies —
but their inns are inconvenient, and

more than we do, or more despise the
pitiful propensity which exists among
Grovernment runners to vent their small
spite at their character ; but on the
subject of slavery, the conduct of
America is, and has been, most repre-
hensible. It.is impossible to speak of
it with too much indignation and con-
tempt ; but for it we should look for-
ward with unqualified pleasure to such
a land of freedom, and such a magni-
ficent spectacle of human happiness.

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN BOCK.
(E. Review, 1824.)

Memoirs qf Captain Bock, the celebrated
Irish Chieftain; with sopie Account qf
Me Ancestors, Written by Himself.
Fourth Edition. 12mo. London. 1824.

This agreeable and vritty book is
Dui uieir luiiB ttio lu^^uuvcuioiiu, «•"*« ■ generally suppo
travellers are teased with questions, ten by Mr. Thomas Moore, a gentle-
They have no collections in the fine man of small stature, but full of gemus,
arts 5; but they have no Lord Chan-
cellor, and they can go to law with-
out absolute ruin. They cannot make
Latin verses, but they expend immense
sums in the education of the poor. In
all this the balance is prodigiously in
their favour : but then comes the great
disgrace and danger of America — the
existence of slavery, which, if not
timously corrected, will one day entail
(and ought to entail) a bloody servile
war upon the Americans — which will
separate America into slave States and
States disclaiming slavery, and which
remains at present as the foulest blot
in the moral character of that people.
A high-spirited nation, who cannot
endure the slightest act of foreign ag-
gression, and who revolt at the very
ibhadow of domestic tyranny, beat with

and a steady fiiend of all that is honour-
able and just. He has here borrowed
the name of a celebrated Irish leader,
to typify that spirit of violence and
insurrection which is necessarily gene-
rated by systematic oppression, and
rudely avenges its crimes ; and the
picture he has drawn of its prevalence
in that unhappy country is at once
piteous and frightful. Its effect in
exciting our horror and indignation is
in the long run increased, we think, —
though at first it may seem counter-
acted, by the tone of levity, and even
jocularity, under which he has chosen
to veil the deep sarcasm and substan-
tial terrors of his story. We smile at
first, and are amusisd— and wonder, as
we proceed, that the humorous nar-

.iiauuw ui uvi^^^v. v-""/» — '^ati^e s^°^^^ P^^^'"''® conviction and

cart-whips, and bind with chains, and pity-shame, abhorrence, and despair!

murder for the merest trifles, wretched
human beings, who are of a more
dusky colour than themselves ; and
have recently admitted in their Union
a new State, with the express per-
mission of ingrafting this atrocious
wickedness into their constitution !
No one can admire the simple wisdom
and manly firmness of the Americans

England seems to have treated Ire-
land much in the same way as Mrs.
Brownrigg treated her apprentice —
for which Mrs. Brownrigg is hanged
in the first volume of the Newgate
Calendar. Upon the whole, we think
the apprentice is better off than the
Irishman : as Mrs. Brownrigg merely
starves and beats her, without any

attempt to prohibit her from going to
any shop, or praying at any church,
her apprentice might select ; and once
or twice, if we rememb^ rightly,
Brownrigg appears to have felt some
compassion. Not so Old England,
who indulges rather in a steady base-
ness, uniform brutality, and unrelent-
ing oppression.

Let us select from this entertaining
little book a short history of dear Ire-
land, such as even some profligate idle
member of the House of Commons,
voting as his master bids him, may
perchance throw his eye upon, and
reflect for a moment upon the iniquity
to which he lends his support.

For some centuries after the reign
of Henry II. the Iri^h were Idlled like
game, by persons qualified or unqu2^
lified. Whether dogs were used does
not appear quite certain, though it is
probable they were, spaniels as well as
pointers ; and that, after a regular
point by Basto, well backed by Ponto
and Caesar, Mr. 0*Donnel or Mr.
O'Leary bolted from the thicket, and
were bagged by the English sports-
man. With Henry IL came in tithes,
to which, in all probability, about one
million of lives may have been sacri-
ficed in Ireland. In the reign of
Edward L the Irish who were settled
near the English requested that the
benefit of the English laws might be
extended to them ; but the remon-
strance of the barons with the hesi-
tating king was in substance this : —
"You have made us a present of these
wild gentlemen, and we particularly
request that no measures may be
adopted to check us in that full range
of tyranny and oppression in which we
consider the value of such gift to con-
sist Ton might as well give us sheep,
and prevent us from shearing the wool,
or roasting the meat.** This reasoning
prevailed, and the Irish were kept to
their barbarism, and the barOns pre-
served their live stock.

"Bead 'Orange fMstion' (says Captain
Rock) here, and you have the wisdom of
cor rulers, at the end of near six centuries,
in statu quo, — The grand periodic year of
the stoics, at the close of which everything
was to begin again, and the same events to

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

53

be all reacted in the same order, is, on a
miniature scale, represented in the history
of the English Government tn Ireland —
eveiy succeeding century being but a new
revolution of the same follies, the same
crimes, and the same turbulence that dis-
graced the former. But *Vive rennemi!'
say I: whoever may suffer by such meap
sures, Captain Rock, at least, will prosper.
"And such was the result at the period
of which I am speaking. The rejection of a
petition, so humble and so reasonable, was
followed, as a matter of course, by one of
those diuring rebellions into which the
revenge of an insulted people naturally
breaks forth. The M'Car^, the O'Briens,
and all the other Macs and 0*8, who have
been kept on the alert hy similar causes
ever since, flew to arms under the command
of a chieftain of my family ; and, as the
proffered handle of the sword had been
rejected, made their inexorable masters at
least feel its «t^d."— (pp. 23—26.) •

Fifty years afterwards the same
request was renewed and refused. Up
again rose Mac and O, — a just and
necessary war ensued ; and e^ter the
usual murders, the usual chains were re-
placed upon the Irishiy. All Irishmen
were excluded from every species of
ofiice. It was high treason to marry
with the Irish blood, and highly penal
to receive the Irish into religious
houses. War was waged also against
their Thomas Moores, Samuel Rogerses,
and Walter Scotts, who went about
the country harping and singing against
English oppression. No such turbulent
guests were to be received. The plan
of making them poets-laureate, or con-
verting them to loyalty by pensions
of lOOZ. per annum, had not then
been thought of. They debarred the
Irish even from the pleasure of run-
ning away, and fixed them to the soil
like negroes.

** I have thus selected," says the historian
of Rock, " cursorily and at random, a few
features of the reigns preceding the B^or»
mation, in order to show what good use
was made of those three or four hundred
years in attaching the Irish people to their
English governors; and by what a gentle
course of alteratives thqr were prepared for
the inoculation of a new religion, which
was now about to be attempted upon them
by the same skilful and firiendly hands.

** Henry the Seventh appears to have
been the first monarch to whom it occurred

S 3

54

that matters were not managed exactly as
they ought in this part of his dominions;
and we find him— with a simplicity which
is still fresh and youthful among our rulers
—expressing his surprise that * his subjects
of this land should be so prone to faction
and rebellion, and that so little advantage
had been hitherto derived from the acqui-
sitions of his predecessors, notwithstanding
the fruitftdness and natiual advantages of
Ireland.'— Surprising, indeed, that a policy,
such as we have been describing, should not
have converted the whole country into a
perfect Atlantis of happiness — should not
have made it like the imaginary island of
Sir Thomas More, where ' tota insula velut
una familia est I '— most stubborn, truly,
and ungrateful, nmst that people be. upon
whom, up to the very hour in which I
write, such a long and unvarying course of
penal laws, confiscations, and Insurrection
Acts has been tried, without making them
in the least degree in love with their rulers.
*' Heloise tells her tutor Abelard, that the
correction which he inflicted upon her only
served toincrease theardour of her afTection
for him; but bayonets and hemp are no
such 'amoris stimuU,'—OD» more charac-
teristic anecdote of those times, and I have
done. At the battle of Knocktow, in the
reign of Heniy V II., when that remarkable
man, the Earl of S^Idare, assisted by the
great O'Neal and other Irish chiefs, gained
a victory over Clanricard of Connaught,
most important to the English Government,
Lord Gormanstown, after the battle, in the
first insolence of success, said, turning to
the Earl of Kildare, ' We have now slaugh-
tered our enemies, but, to complete the
good deed, we must proceed yet further,
and— cut the throats of those Irish of our
own party t ' * Who can wonder that the
Bock family were active in those times ? "
—(pp. sa-^.)

• Henry VIII. persisted in all these
outrages, and aggravated them by in-
sulting the prejudices of the people.
England is almost the only country in
the world (even at present) where there
is not some favourite religious spot,
wherjB absurd lies, little bits of cloth,
feathers, rusty nails, splinters, and
other invaluable relics, are treasured
np, and in defence of which the whole
population are willing to turn out and
perish as one man. Such was the
shrine of St. Kieran, the whole trea-
sures of which the satellites of that

* Leland gives this anecdote on the
authority of an Englishman.

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

corpulent tyrant turned out into the
street, pill^ed the sacred church of
Clonmacnoise, scattered the holy non-
sense of the priests to the winds,
and burnt the real and venerable cro-
sier of St. Patrick, fresh from the
silversmith's shop, and formed of the
most costly materials. Modern princes
change the uniform of regiments :
Henry changed the religion of king-
doms, and was determined that the
belief of the Irish should undergo a
radical and Protestant conversion.
With what success this attempt was
made, the present state of Ireland is
sufficient evidence.

"Be not dismayed," said Elizabeth,
on hearing that O'Neal meditated some
designs against her government ; ** tell
my friends, if he arise, it will turn to
their advantage — there will he estates
for those who want** Soon after this
prophetic speech, Munster was de-
stroyed by famine and the sword, and
near 600,000 acres forfeited to the
Crown, and distributed among En-
glishmen. Sir Walter Raleigh (the
virtuous and good) butchered the
garrison of Limerick in cold blood,
after Lord Deputy Gray had selected
700 to be hanged. There were, during
the reign of Elizabeth, three invasions
of Ireland by the Spaniards, produced
principally by the absurd measures of
this princess, for the reformation of its
religion. The Catholic clergy, in con-
sequence of these measures, abandoned
their cures, the churches fell to ruin,
and the people were left without any
means of instruction. Add to these
circumstances the murder of M*Mahon,
the imprisonment of M*Toole* and
O'Dogherty, and Ae kidnapping of
O'Donnel — all truly Anglo-Hibernian
proceedings. The execution of the
laws was rendered detestable and in-
tolerable hy the queen's officers of jus-

* There are not a few of the best and most
humane Englishmen of the present day,
who, when under the influence of faar or
anger, would think it no great crime to put
to death people whose names be^n with O
or Mac. The violent death of Smith, Green,
or Thomson, would throw the neighbour-
hood into convulsions, and the rMrular
forms would be adhered to — but little
would be really thought of the death of
anybody called aDogherty or OTCoole.

MEMOIBS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

56

tice. The spirit raised by these trans-
aetions, besides innumerable smaller
insurrections, gave rise to the great
wars of Desmond and Hugh O'l^eal ;
which, after tbejr had worn out the
ablest generals, discomfited the choicest
troops, exhausted the treasure, and em-
barrassed the operations of Elizabeth,
were terminated bj the destruction of
these two ancient families, and by the
confiscation of more than half the ter-
ritorial surface of the island. The two
last years of O'Neal's wars cost Eliza-
beth 140,000t per annum, though the
whole revenue of England at that pe-
riod fell considerably short of 500,Q00iL
Essex, after the destruction of Norris,
led into Ireland an army of above
20,000 men, which was totally baffled
and destroyed by Tyrone within two
years of their landing. Such was the
importance of Irish rebellions two cen-
turies before the time in which we
live. Sir G. Carew attempted to assas-
sinate the Lugan Earl — Mountjoy
compelled the Irish rebels to massacre
each other. In the course of a few
months, 3000 men were starved to
death in Tyrone. Sir Arthur Chiches-
ter, Sir Richard Manson, and other
commanders, saw three children feed-
ing on the flesh of their dead mother.
Such were the golden days of good
Queen Bess !

By the rebellions of Dogherty in the
reign of James I. six northern coun-
ties were confiscated, amounting to
500,000 acres. In the same manner,
64,000 acres were confiscated in Ath-
lone. The whole of his confiscations
amount to nearly a million acres ; and
if Leland means plantation acres, they
constitute a twelfth of the whole king-
dom according to Newenham, and a
tenth according to Sir W. Petty. The
most shocking and scandalous action
in the reign of James, was his attack
upon the whole property of the pro-
vince of Connaught, which he would
have effected, 5 he had not been
bought ofi^ by a sum greater than he
hoped to g^in by his iniquity, besides
the luxury of confiscation. The Irish,
during the reign of James I., suffered
under the double evils of a licentious
soldiery, and a religions persecution. [

Charles I. took a bribe of 120,000^
from his Irish subjects, to grant them
what in those days were called Gractt^
but in these days would be denomi-
nated the Elements of Justice. The
money was paid, but the graces
were never granted. One of these
graces is curious enough : ** That the
clergy were not to be permitted to
keep henceforward any private pri-
sons of their own, but delinquents
were to be committed to the public
jails.*' The idea of a rector, with his
own private jail full of dissenters, is
the most ludicrous piece of tyranny
we ever heard of. The troops in the
beginning of Charles's reign were sup-
ported by the weekly fines levied upon
the Catholics for non-attendance upon
established worship. The Archbishop
of Dublin went himself, at the head of
a file of musketeers, to disperse a
Catholic congregation in Dublin —
which object he effected, after a con-
siderable skirmish with the priests.
"The favourite object*' (says Dr.
Iceland, a Protestant clergyman, and
dignitary of the Irish church) " of the
Irish Government and the English
Parliament, was the utter extermituUion
of all the Catholic inhabitants of Ire-
land." The great rebellion took place
in this reign, and Ireland was one
scene of blood and cruelty and confis-
cation.

Cromwell began his career in Ire-
land by massacring for five days the
garrison of Drogheda, to whom quar-
ter had been promised* Two millions
and a half of acres were confiscated.
Whole towns were put up in lots, and
sold. The Catholics were banished
from three-fourths of the kinp^dom,
and confined to Connaught. After a
certain day, every Catholic found out
of Connaught was to be punished with
death. Fleetwood complains peevishly
** that the people do not transport rea-
dffy,** — but adds, ** t( is dovbdess a
work in which the Lord will appear"
Ten thousand Irish were sent as re-
cruits to the Spianish army.

"Such was CromwtXFs way of settling
the aflkirs of Ireland--and if a nation is to
be ruined, this method is, perhaps, as good
as any. It is, at lesst^ morehumone than the

B 4

56

MEMOIRS OP CAPTAIN ROCK.

slow lingering process of exclusion, disap-
pointment, and degradation, lyy w)iich their
hearts are woni out under mora specious
forms of tiyranny ; and that talent of des-
patch which Molitoe attributes to one of
bis physicians, is no ordinaiy merit in a
practitioner like Cromwell:— 'Cost un
bomme exp^tif, qui aime ik d6pteher ses
malades ; et quand on a ik mourir, oela se
ftit avec lui le plus yite du monde.' A oer-
tain militaiy ]>uke, who complains that
Ireland is but half-conquered, would, no
doubt, upon an emergency, tiy bis band in
the same line of practice, and, like that
' stem hero,' MirmUlo, in the Dispensary,

'While others meanly take whole months
to slay, •

Despatch the grateftil patient in a day I '

''Among other amiable enactments against
the Catholics at this period, the price of five
pounds was set on the head of a Bomish
priest-— being exactly the same sum offered
by the same l^slators for the head of a
wolf. The Athenians, we are told, encou-
raged the destruction of wolves by a similar
reward (five draclunas) ; but it does not
appear that these heathens bought up the
beads of priests at the same rate— such zeal
in the cause of religion being reserved for
times of Christianity and Protestantism.*'—
(pp. 97—99.)

Nothing can show more strongly the
light in which the Irish were held by
Cromwell, than the correspondence
with Henry Cromwell, respecting the
peopling of Jamaica from Ireland.
Secretary Thurloe sends to Henry, the
Lord Depaty in Ireland, to inform
him, that *' a stock of Irish girls, and
Irish young men, are wanting for the
peopling of Jamaica.'* The answer of
Henry Cromwell is as follows: — " Con-
cerning the supply of young men, al-
though we must nse force in taking
them up, yet it being so miteh for their
own good, and likely to be of so great
advantage to the public, it is not the
least doubted but that you may have
such a number of them as you may
think fit to make use of on this ac-
count.

** I shall not need repeat anything
respecting the girls, not doubting to
answer your expectations to the full in
that; and I think it might be of like
advantage to your affairs there, and
ours here, if you should think fit to
send 1500 or 22000 boys to the place

above mentioned. We can weU spare
them; and who knows but that it may
be the means of making them English-
men, I mean rather Christians? As
for the girls, I suppose you will make
provisions of clothes, and other accom-
modations for them." Upon this,
Thurloe informs Henry Cromwell that
the council have roted 4000 ghrU, and
€u many hoyty to g^ to Jamaica.

Every Catholic priest found in Ire-
land was hanged, and five pounds paid
to the informer.

'* About the years 1652 and 1653,"
says Colonel Lawrence, in his Interests
of Ireland, ** the plague and famine
had so swept away whole counties,
that a man might travel twenty or
thirty miles and not see « living crea-
ture, either man or beast, or bird,
they being all dead, or had quitted
those desolate places. Oar soldiers
would tell storied of the places where
they saw smoke — it was so rare to see
either smoke by day, or fire or candle
by night.*' In this manner did the
Irish live and die under Cromwell, snf-
fering by the sword, famine, pestilence,
and persecution, beholding the confis-
cation of a kingdom and the banish-
ment of a race. *' So that there perish-
ed " (says Sir W. Petty) « in the year
1641, 650^000 human beings whose
blood somebody must atone for to God
and the King I r*

In the reign of Charles IL, by the
Act of Settlement, four millions and
a half of acres were for ever taken
from the Irish. ** This country," says
the Earl of Essex, Lord Lieutenant
in 1675, "has been perpetually rent
and torn, since his Majesty's restoration.
I can compare it to nothing better than
the flinging the reward on the death of
a deer among the pack of hounds —
where every one pulls and tears where
he can for himself." All wool gtown
in Ireland was, by Act of Parliament,
compelled to be sold to England; and
Irish cattle were excluded from Eng-
land. The English, however, were
pleased to accept 30,000 head of cattle,
sent as a gift from Ireland to the
sufierers in the great fire! — and the
first day of the ^ssions, after this act
of munificence, the Parliament passed

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK.

57

fresh acts of exclusion against the pro-
ductions of that countrjr.

" Among the many anomalous situations
in which the Irish have been placed, by
those ' marriage vows» false as dicers' oaths,'
which bind their country to England, the
* dilemma in which they found themaelyes at
the devolution was not the least perplexing
or crueL* If they were loyal to the King
de jure, they were hanged by the King de
facto; and if they escaped with life firom
the King de facto, it was but to be plun-
dered and proscribed by the King de jure
afterwards.

'Hao gener atque eoeer coeant meroede
suorum.'— YiKGiL.

'In a manner so summaiy, prompt, and
high-mettled,
Twixt father and son-in-law matters were
settled.'

"In fiact, most of the outlawries in Ire-
land were for treason committed the very
day on which the Prince and Princess of
Orange accepted the crown in the Banquet-
ing-house ; though the news of this event
could not possibly have reached the other
side of the Channel on the same day, and
the Lord-Lieutenant of King James, with
an anny to enforce obedience, was at that
time in actual i>06ses8ion of the govern*
moit,— so little was common sense con-
sulted, or the mere decency of forms
observed, by that rapacious spirit, which
nothing less than the confiscation of the
whole island could satisiy ;'and which hav-
ing, in the reign of James I. and at the
Bestoration, despoiled the natives of no less
than ten million six hundred and thirty-six
thousand eight himdred and thirty-seven
acres, now added to its plunder one million
sixty thousand seven hundred and ninety-
two acres more, being the amount, altoge-
ther (according to Lord Clare's calculation),
of the whole superficial contents of the
island I

** Thus, not only had all Ireland suffered
confiscation in the course of tins century,
but no inconsiderable portion of it had been

* "Among the persons most puzzled and
perplexed by the two opposite Koyal claims
on their alliance, were the clergymen of
tin Established Church ; who having first
prayed for King James, as their lawful
sovereign, as soon as William was pro-
claimea tool: to praying tor him; but again,
on the success of the Jitcobite forces in the
north, very prudently pra;^ed for King
James once more, tUl nie arrival of Schom-
berg, when, as far as his quarters reached,
they returned to praying for King William
andn."

twice and even thrice confiscated. Well
might Lord Clare say, ' that the situation
of the Irish nation, at the Bevolution,
stands unparalleled in the history of the
inhabited world.' "— (pp. 111—113.)

By the Articles of Limerick, the
Irish were promised the free exercise
of their religion ; but from that period
till the year 1788, every year produced
some fresh penalty against that religion
— some liberty was abridged, some
right impaired, or some suffering in-
creased. By acts in King William's
reign, they were prevented from being
solicitors. No Catholic was allowed to
marry a Protestant ; and any Catholic
who sent a son to Catholic countries
for education was to forfeit all his
lands. In the reign of Queen Anne,
any son of a Catholic who chose to
turn Protestant got possession of the .
father's estate. No Papist was allowed
to purchase freehold property, or to
take a lease for more than thirty years.
If a Protestant dies intestate, the estate
is to go to the next Protestant heir,
though all to the tenth generation
should be Catholic. In the same
manner, if a Catholic dies intestate,
his estate is to go to the next Protes«
tant No Papist is to dwell in Lime-
rick or Galway. No Papist to take
an annuity for life. The widow of a
Papist turning Protestant to have a
portion of the chattels of deceased,
in spite of any will. Every Papist
teaching schools to be presented as a
regular Popish convict. Prices of
catching Catholic priests from 509. to
10/., according to rank. Papists are
to answer all questions respecting other
Papists, or to be committed to jail for
twelve months. No trust to be under-
taken for Papists. No Papists to be
on Grand Juries. Some notion may
be formed of the spirit of those times,
from an order of the House of Com-
mons, '*that the Sergeant-at-Arms
should take into custody all Papists that
should presume to come into the gal"
lery ! ** ( Commons' Joumalj vol. iii. fol.
976.) During this reign, the English
Parliament legislated as absolutely for
Ireland as they do now for Rutland-
shire — an evil not to be complained
of, if they had done it as justly. lo

58

MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN BOCK.

the reign of George L, the horses of
Papists were seized for the militia, and
rode hy Protestants ; towards which
the Catholics paid doable, and were
compelled to find Protestant substi-
tutes. They were prohibited from
voting at vestries, or being high or
petty constables. An act of the En-
glish Parliament in this reign opens
SB follows : — *' Whereas attempts have
been lately made to shake off the sub-
jection of Ireland to the Imperial
Crown of these realms, be it enacted/'
&c. &c- In the reign of Greorge II.
four-sixths of the population were cut
off from the right of voting at elections,
by the necessity under which thej were
placed of taking the oath of supre-
macy. Barristers and solicitors marry-
ing Catholics are exposed to all the
penalties of Catholics. Persons robbed
by privateers during a war with a
Catholic State, are to be indemnified
by a levy on the Catholic inhabitants
of the neighbourhood. All marriages
between Catholics and Protestants are
annulled. All Popish priests celebra-
ting them are to be hanged. ** This
system " (says Arthur Young) ** has
no other tendency than that of driving
out of the kingdom all the personcd
wealth of the Catholics, and extin-
guishing their industry within it ! and
tiie face of the country, every object
which presents itself to travellers, tells
him how effectually this has been
done.** — (YbMn^** Tour in Ireland,
Vol. IL p. 48.)

Such is the history of Ireland — for
we are now at our own times; and the
only remaining question is» whether
the system of improvement and con-
ciliation begun in the reign of Greorge
IIL shall be pursued, and the remain-
ing incapacities of the Catholics re-
moved, or all these concessions be made
insignificant by an adherence to that
spirit of proscription which they pro-
fessed to abolish ? Looking to the
sense and reason of the thing, and to
the ordinary working of humanity and
justice, when assisted, as they are here,
by self-iuterest and worldly policy, it
might seem absurd to doubt of the
result. But looking to the facts and
the persons by whidi We are now sur-

rounded, we are constrained to say,
that we greatly fear that these incapa-
cities never will be removed, till they
are removed by fear? What else, in-
deed, can we expect when we see them
opposed by such enlightened men as
Mr. Peel — faintly assisted by men of
such admirable genius as Mr. Canning,

— when Royal Dukes consider it as a
compliment to the memory of thehr
father to continue this miserable system
of bigotry and exclusion, — when men
act ignominiously and contemptibly on
this question, who do so on no other
question, — when almost the only per*
sons zealously opposed to this general
baseness and fatuity are a few Whigs
and Reviewers, or here and there a
virtuous poet like Mr. Moore ? We
repeat again, that the measure never
will be effected but by fear. In the
midst of one of our just and necessary
wars, the Irish Catholics will compel
this country to grant them a great deal
more than they at present require, or
even contempUte. We re^et most
severely the protraction of the disease,

— and the danger of the remedy; —
but in this way it is that human affairs
are carried on !

We are sorry we have nothing for
which to praise Administration on the
subject of the Catholic question — but,
it is but justice to say» that they have
been very zealous and active in detect-
ing fiscal abuses in Ireland, in improv-
ing mercantile regulations, and in
detecting Irish jobs. The commission
on which Mr. Wallace presided has
been of the greatest possible utility,
and does infinite credit to the Govern-
ment The name of Mr. Wallace, in
any commission, has now become a
pledge to the public that there is a real
intention to investigate and correct
abuse. He stands in the singular -pre-
dicament of being equally trusted by
the rulers and the ruled. It is a new
era in GK>vernment, when such men
are called into action ; and, if there
were not proclaimed and fatal limits to
that ministerial liberality —which, so
far as it goes, we welcome without a
grudge, and praise without a sneer —
we might yet hope that, for the sake
of mere consistency, they might bo

BENTHAiyrS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

5»

led to falsify our forebodings. Bat
alas ! there are motives more imme-
diate, and therefore irresistible ; and
the time is not yet come, when it will
be believed easier to govern Ireiand bv
the love of the many than by the
power of the few — when the paltry
and dangerons machinery of bigoted
faction and prostituted patronage may
be dispensed with, and the vessel of
the state be propelled by the natural
current of popular interests and the
breath of popular applause. In the
meantime, we cannot resist the temp«
tation of gracing our conclusion with
the following beautiful passage, in
which the anthor alludes to the hopes
that were raised at another great era
of partial concession and liberality —
that of the revolution of 1782, — when,
also, benefits were conferred which
proved abortiye, because they were
incomplete — and balm poured into
the wound, where the envenomed shaft
was yet left to rankle.

"And here/' says the gallant Captain
Bock,— "as the free confession of weak-
nesses constitutes the chief charm and use
of biography— I will candidly own that the
dawn of prosperity and concord, whidi I
now saw breaking over the fortunes of my
country, so dazzled and deceived my youth-
Ail eyes, and so unsettled every hereditary
notion of what I owed to my name and
fiunily, that — shall I confess it?— I even
hailed with pleasure the prospects of peace
and freedom that seemed opening around
me ; nay, was ready, in the boyish enthusi-
asm of the moment, to sacrifice all my own
pexsonal interests in all ftiture riots and
rebellions, to the one bright, seducing ob-
ject of my country's liberty and repose.

"When I contemplated such a man as
the venerable Cfaarlemont, whose nobility
was to the people like a fort over a valley-
elevated above them solely for their defence ;
who introduced the polish of the courtier
into the camp of the ft-eeman, and served
his countiy with all that pure, Platonic
devotion, which a true knight in the time
of chivalry profTered to his mistress ;— when
I Ustened to the eloquence of Grattan, the
very music of Preedom — her first, fresh
matin song, after a long night of slavery,
degradation, and sorrow ;— when I saw the
bright offerings which he brought to the
shrine of his oountiy,— wisdom, genius,
courage, and patience, invigorated and em-
bellished by ail those social and domestic

virtues, without which the loftiest talenta
stand isolated in the moral waste around
them, like the piUan of Palmyra towering
in a wilderness I— when I refiected on all
this, it not only disheartened me for the
mission of discord which I had undertaken,
but made me secretly hope that it might be
rendered unneoessary; and that a oountiy,
which could produce such men and achiere
such a revolution, might yet — in spite of
the joint efforts of the Qovemment and
my fitmily — take her rank in the sode of
nations, and be fiappy I

" My fitther, however, who saw the mo-
mentary daazle by which I was affected,
soon draw me out of this fl^lse light of hope
in which I lay basking, and set the truth
before me in a way but too convincing and
ominoua. ' Be not deceived, boy,' he would
say, 'by the lUlacious appearances before
you. Eminently great and good as is the
man to whom Lreland owes tins short era
of glory, our work, believe me, wiU last
longer than his. We have a power on our
side that '*wiU not wiliingty let us die;"
and, long after Grattan shall have disap-
peared from earth,— like that arrow shot
into the clouds by Aloestes — effecting
nothing, but leaving a long train of light
behind him, the fiimily of the Rocks will
continue to fiourish in all their native
glory, upheld by the ever-watchftd care of
the Legislature, and fostered hy that
" nnrsingmother of Liberty," the Chundh' "

BENTHAM ON FALLACIES.
(E. Beyibw, 1825.)

Ths Book of FaUaeies: from Unftnishtd
PaperstfJeremf BetUham, By a Friend.
London. J. and H. L. Hunt. 1824.

There are a vast number of absurd
and mischievous fallacies, which pass
readily in the world for sense and
virtue, while in truth they tend only
to fortify error and encourage crime*
Mr. Bentham has enumerated the
most conspicuous of these in the book
before us.

Whether it be necessary there should
be a middleman between the cultivator
and the possessor, learned economists
have doubted; but neither gods, men,
nor booksellers, can doubt the neces-
sity of a middleman between Mr.
Bentham and the public. Mr. Ben-
tham is long ; Mr. Bentham is occa-

60

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

sionally involved and obscure; Mr.
Bentbam invents new and alarming
expressions ; Mr. Bentbam loves divi-
sion and sub- division — and be loves
metbod itself, more tban its conse-
quences. Tbose only, tberefore, wbo
know bis originality, bis knowledge,
bis vigour, and bis boldness, will recur
to tbe works tbemselves. Tbe great
mass of readers will not pnrcbase im-
provement at so dear a rate ; but will
cboose ratber to become acquainted
witb Mr. Bentbam tbrough tbe me-
dium of Reviews — after that eminent
pbilosopber ba»been washed, trimmed,
shaved, and forced into clean linen.
One great use of a Review, indeed, is
to make men wise in ten pages; wbo
bave no appetite for a hundred pages ;
to condense nourishment, to work with
pulp and essence, and to guard the
stomach from idle burden and unmean-
ing bulk. For half a page, sometimes
for a whole page, Mr. Bentbam \hntes
with a power which few can equal ;
and by selecting and omitting, an ad-
mirable style may be formed from the
text. Using this liberty, we shall en-
deavour to give an account of Mr.
Bentham's doctrines, for tbe most part
in his own words. Wherever any ex-
pression is particularly happy, let it
be considered to be Mr. Bentham's : —
the dnlness we take to ourselves.

Our Wise Ancestors— the Wisdom of
our Ancestors — the Wisdom of Ages —
venerable Antiquity — Wisdom of Old
Times. — This mischievous and absurd
fallacy springs from the grossest per-
version of tbe meaning of words. Ex-
perience is certainly tbe mother of
wisdom, and the old have, of course,
a greater experience tban the young ;
but the question is, who are the old?
and wbo are the young? Of indivi-
duals living at the same period, the
oldest has, of course, the greatest ex-
perience ; but among generations of
men the reverse of this is true. Those
wbo come first (our ancestors) are the
young people, and have the least ex-
perience. We have added to their
experience tbe experience of many
centuries ; and, therefore, as far as
experience goes, are wiser, and more
capable of forming on opinion than

they were. The real feeling should bei
not, can we be so presumptuous as to
put our opinions in opposition to those
of our ancestors ? but can such young,
ignorant, and inexperienced persons,
as our ancestors necessarily were, be
expected to bave understood a sub-
ject as well as tbose who bave seen so
much more, lived so much longer, and
enjoyed the experience of so m^ny
centuries ? All this cant, then, about
our ancestors is merely an abuse of
words, by transferring phrases true of
contemporary men to succeeding ages.
Whereas (as we bave before observed)
of living men tbe oldest has, ccBteris
paribus, the most experience ; of gene-
rations, the oldest has, cateris paribus,
the least experience. Our ancestors,
up to the Conquest, were children in
arms ; chubby boys in tbe time of
Edward I.; striplings under Eliza-
beth ;• men in the reign of Queen
Anne ; and toe only are the white-
bearded, silver-headed ancients, who
have treasured up, and are prepared to
profit by, all the experience which hu-
man life can supply. We are not dis-
puting with our ancestors the palm of
talent, in which they may or may not
be our superiors, but the palm of ex-
perience, in which it is utterly im-
possible they can be our superiors.
And yet, whenever the Chancellor
comes forward to protect some abase,
or to oppose some plan which has
the increase of human happiness for
its object, his first appeal is always to
the wisdom of our ancestors ; and he
himself, and many noble lords wbo
vote with him, are, to this hour,
persuaded that all alterations and
amendments on their devices are an un-
blushing controversy between youth-
ful temerity and mature experience !—
and so, in truth, they are, — only that
much -loved magistrate mistakes tbe
young for tbe old, and tbe old for the
young — and is guilty of that very
sin against experience which he attri-
butes to tbe lovers of innovation.

We cannot, of coarse, be supposed
to maintain that our ancestors wanted
wisdom, or that they were necessarily
mistaken in their institutions, because
their means of information were more

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

61

limited than ours. But we do confi-
dently maintain that when we find it
expedient to change anything which
oar ancestors have enacted, we . are
the experienced persons, and not they.
The quantity of talent is always vary-
ing in any great nation. To say that
we are more or less able than onr an-
cestors, is an assertion that requires to
be explained. All the able men of all
ages, who have ever lived in England,
probably possessed, if taken altogether,
more intellect than all the able men now
in England can boast of. But if autho-
rity must be resorted to rather than
reason, the question is. What was the
wisdom of that single age which enacted
the law, compared with the wisdom of
the age which proposes to alter it ? What
are the eminent men of one and the
other period ? If you say that our
ancestors were wiser than us, mention
your date and year. If the splendour
of names is equal, are the circum-
stances the same ? If the circum-
stances are the same, we have a supe-
riority of experience, of which the
difference between the two periods is
the measure. It is necessary to insist
upon this ; for upon sacks of wool,
and on benches forensic, sit grave
men, and agricolous persons' in the
Commons, crying out ** Ancestors,
Ancestors I kodie turn I Saxons,
Danes, save us ! Fiddlefrig, help us !
Howel, Ethelwolf, protect us ! " — Any
cover for nonsense — any veil for
trash — any pretext for repelling the
innovations of conscience and of duty !

" So long as they keep to vague generali-
ties—so long as the two objects of compari-
son are each of them taken in the lump —
wise ancestors in one lump, ignorant and
foolish mob of modem times in the other—
the weakness of the ftdlacy may escape
detection. But let them assign for the
period of 8ui)erior wisdom any determinate
period whatsoever, not only will the ground-
lessness of the notion be apparent (class
being compared with class in that period
and the present one), but, unless the ante-
cedent period be comparatively speaking a
very modem one, so wide will be the dispa-
rity, and to such an amount in fitvour of
modem times, that, in comparison of the
lowest class of the people in modem times,
(always supposing them proficients in the

art of reading, and their ^proScieney em-
ployed in the reading of newspapers,) the
very highest and best informed cls«s of
these wise ancestors will turn out to be
grossly ignorant.

'* lUce, for example, any year in the reign
of Henry the Eighth, from 160d to 154A. At
that time the House of Lords would pro-
bably have been in poaseesion of by ftr the
larger proportion of what little instruction
the age afforded : in the House of Lords,
among the iBity, it might even then be a
question whether, without exception, their
lordships were all of them able so much as
to read. But even supposing them all in
the ftiUest possession of that useftd art,
political science being the science in ques-
tion, what instruction on the subject could
they meet with at that time of day?

** On no one branch of legislation was any
book extant firom which, with regard to the
drcumstanoes of the then present times,
any useful instruction could be derived:
distributive law, penal law, international
law, political economy, so tar from existing
as sciences, had scarcely obtained a name :
in all those departments, under the head of
quid faciendum, a mere blank : the whole
literature of the age consisted of a meagre
chronicle or two, containing short memo-
randums of the usual occurrences of war
and peace, battles, sieges, executions, revels,
deaths, births, processions, cei^emonies, and
other external events ; but with scarce a
speech or an Incident that could enter into
the composition of any such work as a his-
tory of the human mind— with scarce an
attempt at investigation into causes, cha-
racters, or the state of the people at large.
Even when at last, little by little, a scrap or
two of political instruction came to be
obtainable, the proportion of error and
mischievous doctrine mixed up with it was
so great, that whether a bhmk unfilled
might not have been less prejudicial than a
blank thus filled, may reasonably be matter
of doubt.

** If we come down to the reign of James
the Eirst, we shall find that Solomon of his
time, eminently eloquent as well as learned,
not only among crowned but among un-
crowned heads, marking out for prohibition
and punishment the practices of devils and
witches, and without any the slightest
objection on the part of the great characters
of that day in their high situations, con-
signing men to death and torment for the
misfortune of not being so well acquainted
as he was with the composition of the (Sod-
head.

*' Under the name of Exorcism the Ca-
tholic htuigy contains a form of procedure
I for driving out devils r-even with the help

62

BENTHAirS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

of thii inrtnunent, the opentioD oamiot be
perfonned with the desired suooees, but hy
an operator qualifled by holy orders for the
working of this as well as so many other
wonders. In our days, and in our country,
the same object is attained, and b^ond
comparison more efTectually, by so cheap an
instrument as a common newspaper : berf%>re
this taUsman, not only devils, but ghosts,
vampires, witches, and all their kindred
tribes, are driven out of the land, never to
return again 1 The touch of holy water is
not so intolerable to them as the bare smell
of printers' ink."— (pp. 74—77.)

Fallacy of irrevocable Laws. *- A
law, says Mr. Bentham (no matter to
what effect), is proposed to a legisla-
tive assembly, who are called npon to
reject it, upon the single ground, that
by those who in some former period
exercised the same powei, a regular
tion was made, having for its object to
preclude for ever, or to the end of an
unexpired period, all succeeding legis*
lators from enacting a law to any sach
effect as that now proposed.

Now it appears quite evident that,
at every, period of time, every Legisla-
ture must be endowed with all those
powers which the exigency of the times
may require : and any attempt to in-
fringe on this power is inadmissible
and absurd. The sovereign power, at
any one period, can only form a blind
guess at the measures which may be
necessary for any future period : but
by this principle of immutable laws,
the government is transferred from
those who are necessarily the best
judges of what they want, to others
who can know little or nothing about
the matter. The thirteenth century
decides for the fourteenth. The four-
teenth makes laws for the fifteenth.
The fifteenth hermetically seals up the
sixteenth, which tyrannises over the
seventeenth, which again tells the
eighteenth how it is to act, under
circumstances which cannot be fore-
seen, and how it is to conduct itself
in exigencies which no human wit can
anticipate.

" Men who have a century more of expe-
rience to ground their Judgments on, sur-
render their intellect to men who had a
oentuiy less experience, and wbo, unless
that deficiency orastitutes a daim, have no

claim to preferenoe. If the prior generation
were, in respect of inteUectual qualification,
eveae so much superiw to the subsequent
generation— if it understood so much better
than the subsequent generation itself the
interest of that subsequent generation—
could it have been in an equal degree
anxious to promote that interest, and con-
sequently equally attentive to those facts
with which, though in order to form a
judgment it oi^ht to have been, it is im-
possible that it should have been aoquunt-
ed f In a word, will its love for that subse-
quent generation be quite so great as that
same generation's love for itself?

" Not even hens, after a moment's delibe-
rate reflection, wiU the assertion be in the
affirmative. And yet it is their prodigious
anxiety for the welftre of their posterity
that produces the propensity of these sages
to tie up the hands of this same posterity
for evermore — to act as guardians to its
perpetual and* incurable weakness, and
take its conduct for ever out of its own
hands.

** If it be right that the conduct; of the
19th oentuiy should be determined not by
its own judgment, but by that of the 18th,
it will be equally right that the conduct of
the 20th century should be deto^mined, not
by its own judgment, but by that of the
19th. And if the same principle were still
pursued, what at length would be the con-
sequence?— that in process of time the
practice of legislation would be at an end.
The conduct and fate of all men would be
determined by those who neither knew nor
cared anything about the matter ; and the
aggregate body of the Living would remain
for ever in subjection to an inexorable
tyranny, exercised, as it were, by the aggre-
gate body of the Dead."— (pp. 84-86.)

The despotism, as Mr. Bentham
well observes, of Nero or Caligula,
would be more tolerable than an trre-
vocable law. l*he despot, through fear
or favour, or in a lucid interval, might
relent ; but how are the Parliament,
who made the Scotch Union, for ex-
ample, to be awakened from that dust
in which they repose — the jobber and
the patriot, the speaker and the door-
keeper, the silent voters and the men of
rich allusions — Cannings and cultiva-
tors. Barings and beggars — making
irrevocable laws for men who toss
their remains about with spades, and
use the relics of these legislators, to
give breadth to broccoli, and to aid
the vernal eruption of asparagus ?

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

63

If tbe law be good, it will sapport
itself; if bad, it should not be sup-
ported bj the irrevocable theory, which
is never resorted to but as the veil of
abases. All living men must possess
the sapreme power over their own
happiness at every particular period.
To suppose that there is anything
which a whole nation cannot do,
which they deem to be essential to
their happiness, and that they cannot
do it, because another generation, long
ago dead and gone, said it mast not
be done, is mere nonsense. While you
are captain of the vessel, do what you
please ; bat the moment you quit the
ship, I become as omnipotent as you.
You may leave me as much advice as
you please, but you cannot leave me
commands; though, in fact, this is the
only meaning which can be applied
to what are called irrevocable laws.
It appeared to the Legislature for the
time being to be of immense import-
ance to make such and such ^ law.
Great good was gained or great evil
avoided by enacting it. Pause before
you alter an institution which has
been deemed to be of so much im-
portance. This is prudence and com-
mon sense ; the rest is the exaggera-
tion of fools, or the artifice of knaves,
who eat up fools. What endless non-
sense has been talked of our naviga-
tion laws ! What wealth has been
sacrificed to either before they were
repealed I How impossible it appeared
to Noodledom to repeal them ! They
were considered of the irrevocable class
— a kind of law over which the dead
only were omnipotent, and the living
had no power. Frost, it is trae, can-
not be put off by act of Parliament,
nor can Spring bie accelerated by any
majority of both Houses. It is, how-
ever, quite a mistake to suppose that
any alteration of any of the Articles
of Union is as much out of the jaris-
diction of Parliament as these me-
teorological changes. In every year,
and every day of Siat year, L'ving men
have a right to make their own laws,
and manage their own affairs ; to break
through the tyranny of the ante-spi-
rants — the people who breathed be-
fore them, and to do what they please

for themselves. Sach supreme power
cannot indeed be well exercised by
the people at large ; it must be exer-
cised therefore by the delegates, or
Parliament, whom the people choose ;
and such Parliament, disregarding the
superstitious reverence for irrevocable
laws, can have no other criterion of
wrong and right than that of public
utility.

When a law is considered as immu-
table; and the immutable law happens
at the same time to be too foolish
and mischievous to be endured, instead
of being repealed, it is clandestinely
evaded, or openly violated ; and thus
the aathority of all law is weakened.

Where a- nation has been ances-
torially bound by foolish and impro-
vident treaties, ample notice must be
given of their termination. Where
the state has made ill-advised grants,
or rash bargains with individuals, it is
necessary to grant pfoper compensa-
tion. The most di£5cult case, certainly,
is that of the union of nations, where a
smaller number of the weaker nation
is admitted into the larger senate of
the greater nation, and will be over-*
powered if the question come to a
vote ; but the lesser nation must run
this risk : it is not probable that any
violation of articles will take place till
they are absolutely called for by ex-
treme necessity. Bht let the danger
be what it may, no danger is so great,
no supposition so foolish, as to con-
sider any human law as irrevocable.
The shifting attitude of haman affairs
would often render such a condition
an intolerable evil to all parties. The
absurd jealousy of our countrymen at
the Union secured heritable jurisdic-
tion to the owners; nine and thirty years
afterwards they were abolished in the
very teeth of the Act of . Union, and
to the evident promotion of the public
good. '

Continuity of a Law hy Oath. —
The Sovereign of England at his
Coronation takes an oath to maintain
the laws of God, the true profession of
the Gospel, and the Protestant religion
as established by law, and to preserve
to the Bishopt and Clergy of this
realm the rights and privileges which by

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FAU^ACIESu

64

law appertain to them, and to presenre
invioliae the doctrine, discipline, wor-
ship, and government of the Chorch.
It has heen snggested that by this
oath the ELing stands precluded from
granting those indulgences to the Irish
Catholics which are incladed in the
bill for their emancipation. The true
meaning of these provisions is, of
course, to be decided, if doubtfnl, bj
the same legislative authority which
enacted them. But a different notion it
seems is now afloat The King for
the time being (we are putting an
imaginary case) diinks as an indivi-*
dual, that he is not maintaining the
doctrine, discipline, and rights of the
Church of England, if ho grant any
extension of civil rights to those who
are not members of that Church, that
he is violating his oath by so doing.
This oath, then, according to this rea-
soning, la the great palladium of the
Church. As long as it remains invio-
late the Church is safe. How then ca»
any monarch who has taken it ever
consent to repeal it ? How can he,
consistently with his oath for the pre-
servation of the privileges of the
Church, contribute his part to throw
down so strong a bulwark as he deems
Uiis oath to be ? The oath, then, can-
not be altered. It must remain under
all circumstances of society the same.
The King, who has taken it, is bound
to continue it, and to refuse his sanction
to any bill for its future alteration ;
because it prevents him, and he must
needs think, will prevent others, from
granting dangerous immunities to the
enemies of the Church.

Here, then, is an irrevocable law — a
piece of absurd tyranny exercised by
the rulers of Queen Anne's time upon
the government of 1825 — a certain
art of potting and preserving a king-
dom, in one shape, attitude and flavour
-» and in this way it is thtit an institu-
tion appears like old Ladies' Sweet-
meats and made Wines — Apricot
Jam, 1822— Currant Wine, 1819 -—
Court of Chancery, 1427 — Penal Laws
against Catholics, 1676. The differ-
ence is, that the Ancient Woman is a
better judge of mou]^y commodities
than the Uberal part of his Majesty's

Ministers. The potting lady goes snif-
fing about, and admitting light and
air to prevent the progress of decay ;
while to him of the Woolsack, all
seems doubly dear in proportion as it
is antiquated, worthless, and unusable.
It ought not to be in the power of the
Sovereign to tie up his own hands,
much less the hands of his successors.
If the Sovereign is to oppose his
own opinion to that of the two other
branches of the Legislature, and him-
self to decide what he considers to
be for the benefit of the Protestant
Church, and what not, a king who has
spent his whole life in the frivolous
occupation of a court, may, by perver-
sion of understanding, conceive mea-
sures most salutary to the Church to
be most pernicious ; and persevering
obstidately in his own error, may frtis-
trate the wisdom of his Parliament,
and perpetuate the most inconceivable
folly ! If Henry YHI. had argued in
this Ihanner, we should have had no
Reformation. If Greorge IIL had
always argued in this manner, the
Catholic Code would never have been
relaxed. And thus, a king, however
incapable of forming an opinion upon
serious subjects, has nothing to do but
to pronounce the word Conscience, and
the whole power of the country is at
his feet.

Can there be greater absurdity than
to say that a man is acting con-
trary to his conscience who surrenders
his opinion upon any subject to those
who must understand the subject bet-
ter than himself ? I think my ward
has a claim to the estate ; but the best
lawyers tell me he has none. I think my
son capable of undergoing the fatigues
of a military life ; but the best physi-
cians say he is much too weak. My
Parliament say this measure will do
the Church no harm ; but I think it
very pemieious to the Church. Am I
acting contrary to my conscience be-
cause I apply much higher intellectual
powers than my own to the investiga-
tion and protection of these high in-
terests ?

"Aooording to the form in which it is
conceived, any such engaisement is in effect

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

65

either a check or a licence :— a licence under
the appearance of a check, and for that
veiy reason but the more efficiently opera-
tive.

** Chains to the man in powOT? Yes:— but
only such as he figures with on the sta^ :
to the spectators as imi)Osing, to himself as
light as possible. Modelled by the wearer
to suit his own purposes, they serve to
rattle^ but not to restrain.

''Suppose a King of Great Britun and
Ireland to have expressed his fixed deter-
mination, in the event of any proposed law
being tendered to him for his assent, to
refuse such assent, and this not on the per-
suasion that the law would not be ' for the
utility of the subjects,* but that by his
coronation oath he stands precluded fh>m
so doing: — the course proper to be taken
loj parliament, the course pointed out by
principle and precedent, would be, a vote of
abdication : — a vote declaring the king to
have abdicated his royal authority, and
that, as in case of death or incurable men-
tal dearangement, now is the time for the
person next in succession to take his place.
" In the celebrated case in which a vote
to this effect was actually passed, the decla-
ration of abdication was in lawyers' language
-a fiction — in plain truth a falsehood — and
that fialsehood a mockeiy ; not a particle of
his power was it the wish of James to
abdicate, to part with ; but to increase it to
a maximum was the manifest object of all
his efforts. But in the case here supposed,
with respect to a part, and that a principal
part, of the royal authority, the will and
purpose to abdicate is actually declared:
and this, being such a' port, without which
the remainder cannot, * to the utility of the
subjects,' be exercised, the remainder must
of necessity be, on their part, and for their
sake, added."— (pp. UO, lU.)

Self- Trumpeter^a FaUaci/, — Mr. Ben-
tham explains the self>trumpeter*8 fal-
lacy as follows : —

** There are certain men in office who, in
discharge of their functions, arrogate to
themselves a d^ree of probity, which is to
exclude all imputations and all inquiry.
Their assertions are to be deemed equiva-
lent to proof; their virtues are guarantees
for the £uthM discharge of their duties;
and the most implicit confidence is to be
reposed in them on all occasions. If you
expose any abuse, propose any reform, call
for securities, inquiry, or. measures to pro-
mote publicity, they set up a cry of surprise,
amounting almost to indignation, as if their
int^rity were questioned, or their honour
wounded, ^ith all this, they dexterously

mix up intimations, that the most exalted
patriotism, honour, and perhaps religion,
are the only sources of all their actions."—
(p. 120.)

Of course every man will try what
he can effect by these means; but (as
Mr. Bentham observes) if there be any
one maxim in politics more certain
than another, it is that no possible
degree of virtue in the governor can
render it expedient for the governed
to dispense with good laws and good
institutions. Madame de Stael (to
her disgrace) said to the Emperor of
Russia, ** Sire, your character is a con-
stitution for your country, and your
conscience its guarantee." His reply
was, " Qnand cela serait, je ne serais
j * nu*un accident heureux ;*' and
tn... .. w think one of the truest and moRt
brilliant replies ever made by monarch.

Laudatory Personalities. — ** The object
of laudatory personalities is to effect the
rejection of a measure on account of the
alleged good character of those who oppose
it: and the argument advanced is, 'The
measiure is rendered unnecessary by the
virtues of those who are in power— their
opposition is a sufficient authority for the
rejection of the measure. The measure
proposed implies a distrust of the members
of His Majesty's Government ; but so great
is their integrity, so complete their disin-
terestedness, so uniformly do they prefer
the public advantage to their own, that
such a measure is altogether unnecessary.
Their disapproval is sufficient to warrant
an opposition ; precautions can only be re-
quisite where danger is apprehended : here,
the high character of the individuals in
question is a sufficient guarantee against
any ground of alarm.* "— (pp. 123, 124.)

The panegyric goes on increasing
with the dignity of the lauded person.
All are honourable and delightful men.
The person who opens the door of the
office is a person of approved fidelity ;
the junior clerk is a model of assiduity ;
all the clerks are models — seven years*
models, eight years' models, nine years'
models and upwards. The first clerk
is a paragon — and ministers the very
perfection of probity and intelligence ;
and as for the highest magistrate of
the state, no adulation is equal to de-
scribe the extent of his various merits I
It is too condescending perhaps to

F

66

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

refate such folly as this. But we woald
just observe, that if the propriety of the
measure in question be established by
direct arguments, these must be at
least as conclusive against the charac-
ter of those who oppose it, as their
character can be against the measure.
The effect of such an argument is, to
give men of good or -reputed good dia-
racter the power of putting a negative
on any question — not agreeable to their
inclinations.

**In every public trust, the legislator
should, for the purpose of prevention, sup*
pose the trustee disposed to break the trust
in every imaginable way in which it would
be possible for him to reap, from the breach
of it, any personal advantage. This is the
principle on which public institutions
ought to be formed ; and when it is applied
to all men indiscriminately, it is injurious
to none. The practical inference is, to
oppose to such possible (and what will
always be probable) breaches of trust, every
bar that can be opposed, consistently with
the power requisite for the efficient and due
dischai^e of the trust. Indeed, these argu*
ments, drawn from the supposed virtues of
men in power, are opposed to the first
principles on which all laws proceed.

** Such aU^ations of individual virtue are
never supported by specific proof, are scarce
ever susceptible of specific disproof; and
spedflc disproof, if ofl'ered, oould not be
admitted in eithw House of Parliament.
If attempted elsewhere, the punishment
woul fall, not on the unworthy trustee, but
on him by whom the unworthiness had been
proved."— (pp. 125. 126.)

Fallacies of pretended danger, — Im-
putation of bad design -— • of bad cha-
racter — of bad motives -^ of inconsis-
tency — of suspicious connections.

The object of this class of fallacies is
to draw aside attention from the mea-
sure to the man, and this in such a
manner, that, for some real or supposed
defect in the author of the measure, a
corresponding defect shall be imputed
to the measure itself. Thus, ^the
author of the measure entertains a bad
design ; therefore the measure is bad.
Bis character is bad, therefore the
measure is bad ; his motive is bad, I
will vote against the measure. On
former occasions this same person who
proposed the measure was its enemy,
therefore the measure is bad. He is on

a footing of intimacy with this or that
dangerous man, or has been seen in
his company, or is suspected of en-
tertaining some of his opinions, there-
fore the measure is bad. He bears a
name that at a former period was
borne by a set of men now no more,
by whom bad principles were enter-
tained — therefore the measure is bad !**
Now, if the measure be really inex-
pedient, why not at once show it to be
so ? If the measure be good, is it bad
because a bad man is its author ? If
bad, is it good because a good man
has produced it ? What are these
arguments, but to say to the assem-
bly who are to be the judges of any
measure, that their imbecility is too
great to allow them to judge of the
measure by its own merits, and that
they must have recourse to distant and
feebler probabilities for that purpose ?

" In proportion to the degree of efficiency
with which a man suffers these instruments
of deception to operate upon his mind he
enables b%d men to exercise over him a sort
of power, the thought of which ought to
cover him with shame. Allow this argu-
ment the effect of a conclusive one, you put
it into the power of any man to draw you
at pleasure firom the support of every
measure, which in your own eyes is good,
to force you to give your support to any and
every measure which in your own eyes is
bad. Is it good? — the ImuI man embraces
it, and, by the supposition, you reject it. Is
it bad?— he vituperates it, and that suffices
for driving you into its embrace. Tou split
upon the rocks, because he has avoided
them ; you miss the harbour, because he
has steered into it ! Give yourself up to
any such blind antipathy, you are no less in
the powor of your adversaries, than if, by a
oorrespondently irrational sympathy and
obsequiousness, you put yourself into the
power of your friends.*'— (pp. 182, 183.)

" Besides, nothing but laborious applica-
tion, and a clear and comprehensive intel-
lect, can enable a man, on any given subject,
to employ sucoesafully relevant arguments
drawn ft^m the subject itself. To employ
personalities, neither labour nor intellect is
required. In this sort of contest, the most
idle and the most ignorant are quite on a
par with, if not superior to, the most indus-
trious and the most highly-gifted indivi-
duals. Nothing OMi be more convenient for
those who would speak without the trouble
of thinking. The same ideas are brought

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

67

.forward orer and over again, and all that ia
required is to ^ary the torn of expression.
Close and relevwit ai^Tunents have very
little hold on the passions, and serve rather
to quell than to inflame them; while in
personalities there is always something
stimulant, whether on the part of him who
praises or him who blames. Praise forms a
Innd of connection between the party prais-
ing and the party praised, and vituperation
gives an air of courage and independence to
the parly who bhimea.

** Ignorance and indolence, firiendship and
enmity, concurring and conflicting interest,
servility and independence, all conspire to
give personalities the asccnidatu^ they so
unhappify maintain. The more we lie
under the influence of our own passions,
the mare we rely on others being affected
in a similar degree. A man who can repel
these injuries with dignity, may often con-
vert them into triumph : ' Strike me, but
faear,' says he, and the ftiry of lus antagonist
redonncto to his own discomfiture/*— (pp.
141, 142.)

JVo Innovation! — To say that all new
things are bad, is to say that all old
things were bad in their commence-
ment : for of all the old things ever
seen or heard of, there is not one
that was not once new. Whatever is
now establishment was once innova-
tion* The first inventor of pews and
parish clerks, was no doubt considered
as a Jacobin in his day. Judges,
juries, criers of the court, are all the
inventions of ardent spirits, who filled
the world with alarm, and were consi-
dered as the great precursors of ruin
and dissolution. Ko inoculation, no
turnpikes, no reading, no writing, no
Popery I The fool sayeth in his heart,
and crieth with his mouth, *'I will have
nothing new ! "

Falhcy of Distrust /— •* What's at
the fioftom?'*'— This fallacy begins with
a virtual admission of the propriety of
the measnre considered in itself, and
thus demonstrates its own futility, and
cuts up from under itself the ground
which it endeavours to make. A mea-
sure is to be rejected for something
that, by bare possibility, may be found
amiss in some other measure ! This is
Ticarious reprobation ; upon this prin-
ciple Herod instituted his massacre.
It is the argument of a driveller to
other drivellers, who says. We are not

able to decide upon the evil when it
arises — our only safe way is to act upon
the general apprehension of evil.

Official Malefactor's Screen, — •* At-
tack us — you attack Government**

If this notion is acceded to, every
one who derives at present any advan-
tage from misrule has it in fee-simple ;
and all abuses, present and future,
are without remedy. So long as there
is anything amiss in conducting the bu-
siness of Government, so long as it can
be made better, there can be no other
mode of bringing it nearer to perfec
tion than the indication of such im-
perfections as at the time being exist.

"But so fkr is it from being true that a
man's aversion or contempt for the hands
by which the powers of Government, or
even for the system under which they are
exercised, is a proof of his aversion or con-
tempt towards Government itself, that,
even in proportion to the strength of that
aversion or contempt, it is a proof of the
opposite affection. What, in consequence of
such contempt or aversion, he wishes for, is,
not that there be no hands at all to exer-
cise these powers, but that the hands may
be better regulated r-uot that those powers
should not be exerdsed at aU, but that they
should be better exercised;— not that in the
exercise of them, no rules at all should be
pursued, but that the rules by which they
are exercised should be a better set of rules.

*• All government is a trust ; every branch
of government is a trust ; and immemorially
acknowledged so to be : it is only by the
magnitude of the scale that public differ
from private trusts. I complain of the con-
duct of a person in the character of guar-
dian, as domestic guardian, having the care
of a minor or insane person. In so doing,
do I say that guardianship is a bad institu-
tion P Does it enter into the head of any
one to suspect me of so doing ? I complain
of an individual in the character of a com-
merdal agent, or assignee of the effects of
an insolvent. In so doing, do I say that
commercial agency is a bad thing P that the
practice of vesting in the hands of trustees
or aflsignees the effects of an insolvent, for
the purpose of their being divided among
his creditors, is a bad practice ? Does, any
such conceit ever enter into the head of
man, as that of suspecting me of so doing? "
—(pp. 162, 163.)

There are no complaints against go-
vernment in Turkey — no motions in
Parliament, no Morning Chronicles,

F 2

C8

BENTHAl^rS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

and no Edinburgh Reviews: yet of
all coantries in the world, it is tliat in
which revolts and revolations are the
most frequent.

It is so far from true, that no good
government can exist consistently with
SQch disclosure, that no good govern-
ment can exist without it. It is quite
obvious, to all who are capable of re-
flection, that by no other means than
by lowering the governors in the esti-
mation of the people, can there be hope
or chance of beneficial change. To
infer from this wise endeavour to les-
sen the existing rulers in the estima-
tion of the people, a wish of dissolving
the government, is either artifice or
error. The physician who intention-
ally weakens the patient hj bleed-
ing him has no intention he should
perish.

The greater the quantity of respect
a man receives, independently of good
conduct, the less good is his behaviour
hkely to be. It is the interest, there-
fore, of the public, in the <:ase of each,
to see that the respect paid to him
should, as completely as possible, de-
pend upon the goodness of his beha-
viour in the execution of his trust.
But it is, on the contrary, the interest
of the trustee, that the respect, the
money, or any other advantage he re-
ceives in virtue of his ofiice, should be
as great, as secure, and as independent
of conduct as possible. Soldiei-s ex-
pect to be shot at; public men must
expect to be attacked, and sometimes
unjustly. It keeps up the habit of con-
sidering their conduct as exposed to
scrutiny; on the part of the people at
large, it keeps alive the expectation of
witnessing such attacks, and the habit
of looking out for them. The friends
and supporters of government have al-
ways greater facility in keeping and
raising it up, than its adversaries have
for lowering it.

Accitsaiion-8carer*8 Device, — ^** Infa-
my must attach somewhere,**

This fallacy consists in representing
the character of a calumniator as ne-
cessarily and justly attaching upon him
who, having made a charge of miscon-
duct against any persons possessed of
political power or influence, fails of

producing evidence sufficient for their
conviction.

" If taken as a general propoeition, apply-
ing to all public accusations, nothing can
be more mischievous as well as fallacious.
Supposing the charge unfounded, the deli-
very of it may have been accompanied with
nuUa ftdei (consciousness of its injustice),
with iemeriiif only, or it may have been per-
fectly blameless. It is in the first case alone
that infamy can with propriety attach upon
him who brings it forward. Achai^ really
groundless may have been honestly believed
to be well founded, i. e, believed with asori
of provisional credence, sufficient for the
purpose of engaging a man to do his part
towards the lE>ringiDg about an investiga-
tion, but without sufficient reasons. But a
charge may be perfectly groundless without
attaching the smallest particle of blame
upon him who brings it forward. Suppose
him to have heard from one or more, pre-
senting themselves to him in the chancter
of percipient witnesses, a story, which eithnr
in totOt or i)erhaps onJy in circumstanceef
though in drcumstances of the most mate-
rial importance, should prove fUse and
mendacioua— how is the person who hears
this, and acts accordingly, to blame f . What
sagacity can enable a man previously to
legal investigation, a man who has no power
that can enable 1dm to insure correctness
or completeness on the part of this extra*
judicial testimony, to guard against deoep«
tion in such a case? **— (pp. 185, 188.)

Fallacy of False Consolation, —
** What is the matter with you f — What
would you have f Look at the people
there, and there ; tldnk how much better
off you are than they are. Your pros-,-
perity and liberty are objects of their
envy; your institutions models of their
imitation,^*

It is not the desire to look to tho
bright side that is blamed : but when
a particular suffering, produced by an
assigned canse, has been pointed out,
the object of many apologists is to turn
the eyes of inquirers and judges into
any other quarter in preference. If a
man*s tenants were to come with a
general encomium on the prosperity of
the country, instead of a specified sum,
would it be accepted ? In a court of
justice, in an action for damages, did
ever any such device occur as that of
pleading assets in the hands of a third
person ? There is, in tact, no country
so poor and so wretched in every

l^ENTHA^rS BOOK OF FALLACIES.

69

element of prosperity, in which matter
for this argument might not be foand.
Were the prosperity of the country
tenfold as great as at present, the ab-
surdity of the argument would not in
the least degree be lessened. Why
should the smallest evil be endured,
which can be cured, because others
suffer patiently under greater evils ?
Shoald the smallest improyement at-
tainable be neglected, because others
remain contented in a state of still
greater inferiority ?

* Seriously and pointedly in the character
of a bar to any measure of relief, no, nor to
the most trivial improvement, can it ever
be employed. Suppose a bill brought in for
converting an impassable road anywhere
Into a passable one, would any man stand
up to oppose it who could find nothing bet-
ter to ui^ against it than the multitude
and goodness of the roads we have already ?
iNTo : when in the character of a serious bar
to the measure in hand, be that measure
what it may, an argument so palpably in-
applicable is employed, it can only be for the
purpose of creating a diversion ,— of turn-
ing aside the minds of men flrom the subject
really in hand, to a picture, which by its
beauty, it is hoped, may engrost the atten-
tion of the assembly, and make them forget
fbr the moment for what purpose they came
there."— (pp. 198, 197.)

The Qjttietist, or no Complaint.— *' K new
law or measure being proposed in the cha-
racter of a remedy for some incontestable
abuse or evil, an objection is frequently
started to the following effect :— ' The mea-
sure is unnecessary. Nobody complains of
disorder in that shape, in which it is the
aim of your measure to propose a remedy
to it. But even when no cause of complaint
has been found to exist, especially und^
governments which admit of complaints,
men have in general not been slow to com-
plain; much less where any just cause of
complaint has existed.' The argument
amounts to this :— Nobody complains, there-
tcfre nobody suffers. It amounts to a veto
on all measures of precaution or prevention,
and goes to establish a maxim in legislation
directly opposed to the most ordinary pru-
dence of common life;— it enjoins us to
build no parapets to a bridge till the num-
ber of accidents has raised an universal
clamour.**- (pp. 190, 191.)

ProcrastintUor'a Argument. — " Wait
a little, this is not the time"

This is the common argument of
men, who, being in reality hostile to a

measure, are ashamed or afraid of ap-
pearing to be so. To-day is the pica
— eternal exclusion commonly the ob-
ject It is the same sort of quirk as a
plea of abatement in law — which is
never employed but on the side of a
dishonest defendant, whose hope it is
to obtain an ultimate triumph by over-
whelming his adversary with despair,
impoverishment, and lassitude. Which
is the properest day to do good ? which
is the properest day to remove a nuis-
ance ? "we answer, the very first day a
man can be found to propose the re-
moval of it ; and whoever opposes the
removal of it on that day will (if ho
dare) oppose it on every other. There
is in the minds of many feeble friends
to virtue and improvement, an imagi-
nary period for the removal of evils,
which it would certainly be worth while
to wait for, if there was the smallest
chance of its ever arriving — a period
of unexampled peace and prosperity,
when a patriotic king and an enligh-
tened mob united their ardent efforts
for the amelioration of human affairs ;
when the oppressor is as delighted to
give up the oppression, as the oppressed
is to be liberated from it ; when the diffi •
culty and the unpopulaiity would be
to continue the evil, not to abolish it I
These are the periods when fair-weather
philosophers are willing to venture out,
and hazard a little for the general good.
But the history of human nature is so
contrary to all this, that almost all im-
provements are made after the bitterest
resistance, and in the midst of tumults
and civil violence — the worst period at
which they can be made, compared to
which any period is eligible, and should
be seized hold of by the friends of sa-
lutary reform.

SnaiVs Pace argument.—** One thing at
a time ! Not too fast ! Slow and sure /—
Importance of the business — extreme diffi-
culty of the business— danger of innovation
—need of caution and circumspection— im-
possibility of foreseeing all consequences —
danger of precipitation— everything should
be gradual — one thing at a time— this is not
the time— great occupation at present-
wait for more leisure— people well satisfied
—no petitions presented— no complaints
heard- no such mischief has yet taken place
•—stay till it has taken place 1— Such is the

V 3

70

BENTHAM'8 BOOK OF FALLACIES.

prattle which the magpie in office, who, un*
derstanding nothing, yet understands that
he must have something to say on every
subject, shouts out among his auditors as
a suocedaneum to thought.'*— (pp. 203, 204)

Vague Generalities, — ^Vague gene-
ralities comprehend a nnmeroos class
of fallacies resorted to by those who,
in preference to the determinate ex-
pressions which they might use, adopt
others more vague and indeterminate.

Take, for instance, the terms, govern-
ment, laws, morals, religion. Every-
body will admit that there are in the
world bad governments, bad laws, bad
morals, and bad religions. The bare
circumstance, therefore, of being enga-
ged in exposing the defects of govern-
ment, law, morals, and religion, does
not of itself afford the slightest pre-
sumption that a writer is engaged in
anything blamable. If his attack be
only directed against that which is bad
in each, his efforts may be productive
of good to any extent. This essential
distinction, however, the defender of
abuses uniformly takes care to keep out
of sight ; and boldly imputes to his
antagonists an intention to subvert all
government, law, morals, and religion.
Propose anything with a view to the
improvement of the existing practice,
in relation to law, government, and re-
ligion, he will treat you with an oration
upon the necessity and utility of law,
government, and religion. Among the
several cloudy appellatives which have
been commonly employed as cloaks for
misgovernment, there is none more con-
spicuous in this atmosphere of illusion
than the word order. As often as any
measure is brought forward which has
for its object to lessen the sacritice made
hy the many to the few, social order is
the phrase commonly opposed to its
progress.

'* By a de&lcation made from any part of
the mass of factitious delay, vexation, and
expense, out of which, and in proportion to
which, lawyers* profit is made to flow— by
any defalcation made from the mass of need-
less and worse than useless emolument to
office, with or without service or pretence
of service— by any addition endeavoured to
be made to the quantity, or improvement
in the quality of service rendered, or time
bestowed in service rendered in return for

such emolument— l^ every endeavour that
has for its object the persuading the people
to place th^ fiite at the disposal of any
other agents than those in whose hands
breach of trust is certain, due ftilfilment of
it morally and physically impossible— Mciof
order is said to be endangered, and threat-
ened to be destroyed.**— (p. 234.)

In the same way Establishment is a
word in use to protect the bad parts of
establishments, by charging those who
wish to remove or alter them, with a
wish to subvert all good establishments.

Mischievous fallacies also circulate
from the convertible use of what Mr.
K is pleased to call dyslogistic and eu-
logistic terms. Thus a vast concern is
expressed for the liberty of the press^
and the utmost abhorrence for its licen"
tiousnessi but then, by the licentious-
ness of the press is meant every dis-
closure by which any abuse is brought
to light and exposed to shame — by the
liberty of the press is meant only publi-
cations from which no such inconveni-
ence is to be apprehended; and the-
fallacy consists in employing the sham
approbation of liberty as a mask for
the real opposition to all free discussion.
To write a pamphlet so ill that nobody
will read it ; to animadvert in terms so
weak and insipid upon great evils, tbat^
no disgust is excited at the vice, and no
apprehension in the evil doer, is a fair
use of the liberty of the press, and is
not only pardoned by the friends of
government, but draws from them the
most fervent eulogium. The licenti-
ousness of the press consists in doing
the thing boldly and well, in striking
terror into the guilty, and in rousing
the attention of the public to the de-
fence of their highest interests. This
is the licentiousness of the press held
in the greatest horror by timid and cor-
rupt men, and punished by semiani-
mous semicadaverous judges, with a
captivity of many years. In the same
manner the dyslogistic and eulogistic
fallacies are used in the case of reform.

"Between all abuses whatsoever, there
exists that connection— between all persons
who see each of them, any one abuse in
which an advantage results to himself, there
exists, in point of interest, that close and
sufficiently understood connection, of which
intimation has been given already. To no

BENTHAM^S BOOK OF FALLACIES-

71

one abuse can correction be administered
without endiftDgeriDg the existence of every
other.

*' If, then, with this inward determination
not to suffer, so far as depends upon himself,
the adoption of any reform which he is able
to prevent, it should seem to him necessary
or advisable to put on for a cover, the pro-
fession or appearance of a desire to oontri*
bute to such reform— in pursuance of the
device or fallacy here in question, he will
represent that which goes by the name of
reform as distinguishable into two species ;
one of them a fit subject for approbation,
the other for disapprobation. That which
he thus professes to have marked for ap-
pirobation, he will aooordin^» for the ez-
pression of such approbation, characterise
by some adjunct of the eiUoffistic cast, such
as moderate, for example, or tempenute, or
practical, or practicable^

** To the other of these nominally distinct
■pecieB, he will, at the same time, attach
some adjunct of the dpslogiatie cast, such
as violent, intemperate» extravagant, out-
rageous, theoretioal» 8peou]afeive» and so
forth.

" Thus, then, in profession and to appear-
ance, there are in his conception of the
matter two distinct and opposite species of
reform, to one of which his approl»tion, to
the other his disapprobation, is attached*
But the species to which his approbation is
attached is an emptif species-^^ species in
which no individual is, or is intended to be,
contained.

** The species to which his disapprobation
is attached is, on the contrary, a crowded
species, a receptacle in which the whole
contents of the genti9—ot the genus Beform
are intended to be included."— (pp. 277,278.)

Anti-rational Fallaciea. — ^When rea-
son is in opposition to a man's interests,
his study will naturally be to render the
faculty itself, and whatever issues from
it, an object of hatred and contempt.
The sarcasm and other figures of speech
employed on the occasion are directed
not merely against reason, but against
thought, as if there were something in
the faculty of thought that rendered
the exercise of it incompatible with
useful and successful practice. Some-
times a plan, which would not suit the
official person's interest, is without more
ado prohounced a«pecT(2a^/t;e one ; and,
by this observation, all need of rational
and deliberate discussion is considered
to be superseded. The first effort of
the corruptionist is to fix the epithet

Speculative upon any scheme which he
thinks may cherish the spirit of reform*
The depression is hailed with the great-
est delight by bad and feeble men, and
repeated with the most unwearied en^'
ergy } and to the word Speculative, by
way of reinforcement, are added theo'
redcaL, visionary, chimerical, romantic,
Utopian,

"Sometimes a distinction is taken, and
thereup<m a concession made. The plan is
good in theorw, but it would be bad in
praeiiee, i e. its being good in theoiy does
not hinder its being bad in practice.

*' Sometimes, as if in consequeuce of a
fiurther progress made in the art of irratiom
ality, the plan is pronounced to be ^oo good
to be practicable ; and its being so good as
it is, is thus represented as the very cause
of its being bad in practice.

" In short, such is the perfection at which
this art is at length arrived, that the very
circumstance of a plan's being susceptible
of the appellation of a plan^ has been
gravely stated as a drcumstance sufficient
to warrant its being rejected : rejected, if
not with hatred, at any rate with a sort of
accompaniment, which, to the million, is
commonly felt still more galling— with con*
tempt."— (p. 296.)

There is a propensity to push theory
too far ; but what is the jiist inference?
not that theoretical propositions (t. e*
all propositions of any considerable
comprehension or extent) should, from
such their extent, be considered to be
false in toto, but only that, in the par^*
ticular case, inquiry should be made
whether^ supposing the proposition to
be in the character of a rule generally
true, an exception ought to be taken
out of it. It might also be imagined
that there was something wicked or
unwise in the exercise of thought; for
everybody feels a necessity for disclaim<»
ing it. ** I am not given to speculation,
I am no friend to theories." Can a man
disclaim theory, can he disclaim spe*
culation, without disclaiming thought ?

The description of persons by whom
this fallacy is chiefly employed are those
who, regarding a plan as adverse to
their interests, and not finding it on
the ground of general utility exposed
to any preponderant objection, have
recourse to this objection in the cha-
racter of an instrument of contempt,
in the view of preventing those from

V 4

72

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

looking into it who might haye been
. otherwise disposed. It is by the fear of
seeing it practised that thej are drawn
to speak of it as impracticaUe. ''Upon
tlie face of it (exclainis some feeble or
pensioned gentleman), it carries that
• air of plausibility, that, if 70a were
not upon your goard, might engage
70a to bestow more or less of attention
upon it ; bnt were 70a to take the trou-
ble, 70a would find that (as it is with
all these plans which promise so much)
practicabilit7 would at last be wanting
to it. To save 7onrself from this trouble,
the wisest course 7on can take is to
put the plan aside, and to think no
more about the matter." This is al-
wa78 accompanied with a peculiar grin
of triumph.

The whole of these fallacies ma7 be
gathered together in 'a little oration,
which we will denominate the

Noodle's Oration,

**What would our ancestors sa7 to
this. Sir? How does this measure
tall7 with their institutions? How
docs it agree with their experience?
Are we to put the wisdom of 7esterda7
In competition with the wisdom of cen-
turies ? {Hear^ hear /) Is beardless
7outh to show no respect for the deci-
sions of mature age ? (Loud cries of
hear ! hear /) If this measure be right,
would it have escaped the wisdom of
those Saxon progenitors to whom we
are indebted for so man7 of our best
political institutions ? Would the Dane
have passed it over ? Would the Nor-
man have rejected it ? Would such a
notable discover7 have been reserved
for these modern and degenerate times ?
Besides, Sir, if the. measure itself is
good, I ask the honourable gentleman
if this is the time for carrying it into
execution — whether, in fact, a more
unfortunate period could have been
selected than that which he has chosen ?
If this were an ordinar7 measure, I
should not oppose it with so much ve-
hemence ; but. Sir, it calls in question
the wisdom of an irrevocable law — of
a law passed at the memorable period
of the lievolution. What right have
we. Sir, to break down this firm column,
on which the great men of that day

stamped a character of etemit7 ? Are
not all authorities against this measure
— Pitt, Fox, Cicero, and the Attome7
and Solicitor General ? The proposi-
tion is new. Sir ; it is the first time it
was ever heard in this House. I am
not prepared. Sir — this House is not
prepared, to receive it. The measure
implies a distrust of his Majest7's go-
vernment; their disapproval is sufiS-
cient to warrant opposition. Precaution
onl7 is requisite where danger is ap-
prehended. Here the high character
of the individuals in question is a suffi-
cient guarantee against an7 ground of
alarm. Give not, then, your sanction
to this measure ; for, whatever be its
character, if yon do give your sanction
to it, the same man by whom this is
proposed, will propose to you others to
which it will be impossible to give your
consent. I care Vjery little. Sir, for the
ostensible measure ; but what is there
behind? What are the honourable
gentleman's future schemes? If we
pass this bill, what fresh concessions
may he not require? What further
degradation is be planning for \\\s
country? Talk of evil and incon-
venience. Sir ! look to other countries
— study other aggregations and socie-
ties of men, and then see whether the
laws of this country demand a remedy
or deserve a panegyric. Was the ho-
nourable gentleman (let me ask him)
always of this way of thinking ? Do
I not remember when he was the ad-
vocate in this House of very opposite
opinions? I not only quarrel with his
present sentiments. Sir, but I declare
very frankly, I do not like the party
with which he acts. If his own mo-
tives were as pure as possible, they
cannot but suffer contamination from
those with whom he is politically asso-
ciated. This measure may be a boon
to the constitution ; but I will accept
no favour to the constitution from such
hands. (JLoud cries of hear I hear /) I
profess myself. Sir, an honest and up-
right member of the British Parlia-
ment, and I am not afraid to profess
myself an enenfy to all change and all
innovation. I am satisfied with things
as they are ; and it will be my pride
and pleasure to hand down this coan-

BENTHAM'S BOOK OF FALLACIES.

r3

try to mj children as I received it from
those who preceded me. The honour-
able gentleman pretends to jastifj the
scveritj with which he has attacked the
noble Lord who presides in the Conrt
of Chancery ; but I say such attacks
are pregnant with mischief to Govern-
ment itself. Oppose Ministers, you
oppose' Government : disgrace Minis-
ters, yon disgrace Government : bring
Ministers into contempt, you bring Go-
vernment into contempt ; and anarchy
and civil war are the consequences.
Besides, Sir, the measure is unneces-
sary. Nobody complains of disorder
in that shape in which it is the aim of
yonr measure to propose a remedy to
it. The business is one of the greatest
importance ; there is need of the great-
est caution and circumspection. Do
not let us be precipitate. Sir. It is im-
possible to foresee all consequences.
Everything should be gradual : the ex-
ample of a neighbouring nation should
fill us with alarm ! The honourable
gentleman has taxed me with illibe-
rality, Sir. I deny the charge. I
hate innovation ; but I love improve-
ment. I am an enemy to the corrup-
tion of Government ; but I defend its
influence. I dread Reform; but I
dread it only when it is intemperate.
I consider the liberty of the Press as
the great Palladium of the Constitu-
tion ; but, at the same time, I hold
the licentiousness of the Press in the
greatest abhorrence. Nobody is mora
conscious than I am of the splendid
abilities of the honourable mover ; but
I tell him at once his scheme is too
good to be practicable. It savours of
Utopia. It looks well in theory; but
it won't do in practice. It will not
do, I repeat. Sir, in practice ; and so
the advocates of the measure will find,
if unfortunately it should find its way
through Parliament. {Cheers.) The
source of that corruption to which the
honourable member alludes, is in the
minds of the people: so rank and ex-
tensive is that corruption, that no poli-
tical reform can have any effect in re-
moving it Instead of reforming others
— instead of reforming the State, the
Constitution, and everything that is

most excellent, let. each man refoiin shape of insmcerity.

himself ! let him look at home ; he
will find there enongh to do, without
looking abroad, and aiming at what
is out of his power. {Loud Cheers.)
And now, Sir, as it is frequently the
custom in this House to end with a
quotation, and as the gentleman who
preceded me in the debate has antici-
pated me in my favourite quotation of
* The strong pull and the long puli,* —
I shall end with the memorable words
of the assembled Barons — * Nolumus
leges Anglia mutari.* "

*' Upon the whole, the following are the
characters which appertain in common to
all the several arguments here distinguished
by the name of fallacies : —

" 1. Whatsoever be the measure in hand,
they are, with rehition to it, irrelevant.

"2. They are all of them such, that the
application of these irrelevant arguments
affords a presumption either of the weak-
ness or total absence of relevant arguments
on the side on which they are employed.

'*S. To any good purpose they are all of
them unnecessary.

** 4. They are all of them not only capable
of being applied, but actually in the habit
of bemg applied, and with advantage, to
bad purposes; viz. to the obstruction and
defeat of all such measures as have for their
object the removal of the abuses or other
imperfections still discernible in the frame
and practice of the government.

** ft. By means of their irrelevancy, they all
of them consume and misapply time, there-
by obstructing the course and retarding the
progress of all necessary and useful business.
*'6. By that irritative quality which, in
virtue of their irrelevancy, with the impro-
bity or weakness of which it is indicative,
they possess, all of them, in a degree more
or less considerable, but in a more parti-
cular d^ree such of them as consist in per-
sonalities, they are productive of ill-humour,
which in some instances has been produc-
tive of bloodshed, and is continually pro-
ductive, as above, of waste of time and
hindrance of business.

** 7. On the part of those who, whether in
spoken or written discourses, give utterance
to them, they are indicative either of impro-
bity or intellectual weakness, or of a con-
tempt for the understanding of those on
whose minds they are destined to operate.
"8. On the part of those on whom they
operate, they are indicative of intellectual
weakness ; and on the part of those in and
by whom they are pretended to operate
they are indicative of improbity, viz. in the

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

'* The practical conclusion is, that in pro-
portion as the acceptance, and thence the
utterance, of them can be prevented, the un-
derstanding of the public will be Strength-
ened, the morals of the public will be puri-
fied, and the practice of gOYemment im-
proved."— (pp. 360, 860.)

WATERTON. (E. Review, 1826.)

Wanderinffs *n South America, the North'
West of the United States, and the An-
tiOes, in the Years 1812, 1816, 1820, and
1824 ; with original Instructions for the
perfect Preservation of Sirds, d:c, for
Cabinets qf Natural History, By Charles
TVaterton, Esq. London. Mawman. 4ito.
1825.

Mr. Waterton is a Roman Catholic
gentleman of Yorkshire, of good for-
tune, who, instead of passing his life
at balls and assemblies, has preferred
living with Indians and monkies in the
forests of Guiana. He appears in early
life to have been seized with an un*
conquerable aversion to Ficcadillj,
and to that train of meteorological
questions and answers which forms the
great staple of polite English conver-
sation. From a dislike to the regular
form of a journal, he throws his travels
into detached pieces, which he, rather
affectedly, calls '* Wanderings ** — and
of which we shall proceed to give some
account.

His first Wandering was in the year
1812, through the wilds ofDemerara
and Essequibo — a part of cidevant
Dutch Guiana, in South Americai
The sun exhausted him by day, the
mosquitoes bit him by night ; but on
went Mr. Charles Waterton I

The first thing which strikes us in
this extraordinary chronicle, is the
genuine zeal and inexhaustible delight
with which all the barbarous countries
he visits are described. He seems to
love the forests, the tigers, and the
apes ; — to be rejoiced that he is the
only man there ; that he has left his
species far away, and is at last in the
midst of his blessed baboons I He
writes with a considerable degree of
force and vigour ; and contrives to
infuse into his reader that admiration
of the great works and undisturbed
scenes of Nature which animates his

style, and has influenced his life and
practice. There is something, too,
to be highly respected and praised in
the conduct of a country gentleman,
who, instead of exhausting life in the
chasO) has dedicated a considerable
portion of it to the pursuit of know-
ledge. There are so many tempta-
tions to complete idleness in the life of
a cotintry gentleman, so many exam-
ples of it, and so much loss to the
community from it, that every excep-
tion from the practice is deserving of
great praise. Some country gentlemen
must remain to do the business of their
counties ; but, in general, there are
many more than are wanted ; and,
generally speaking, also, they are a
class who should be stimulated to
greater exertions. Sir Joseph Banks,
a squire of large fortune in Lincoln-
shire, might have given up his exist-
ence to double-barrelled guns and
persecution of poachers ; — and all the
benefits derived from his wealth, in-
dustry, and personal exertion in the
cause of science, would have been lost
to the community.

Mr. Waterton complains that the
trees of Guiana ara not more than six
yards in circumference — a magnitude
in trees which it is not easy for a
Scotch imagination to reach. Among
these, pre-eminent in height rises the
mora — upon whose top branches, when
naked by age, or dried by accident,
is perched the toucan, too high for the
gun of the fowler ; around this are,
the green heart, famous for hardness ;
the tough hackea ; the ducalabaly,
surpassing mahogany ; the ebony and
letter-wood, exceeding the most beau-
tiful woods of the Old Worid ; the
locust-tree, yielding copal ; and the
hayawa and olou trees, furnishing
sweet-smelling resin. Upon the top
of the mora grows the fig-tree. The
bush-rope joins tree and tree, so as to
render the forest impervious, as de-
scending from on high, it takes root
as soon as its extremity touches the
ground, and appears like shrouds and
stays supporting the mainmast of a
line-of-battle ship.

Demerara yields to no country in the
world in her birds. The mud is flam*

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

75

ing with the scarlet, curlew. At sun-
set, the pelicans return from the sea to
the courada trees. Among the flowers
are the humming-birds. The colum-
bine, gallinaceous, and pesserine tribes
people the fruit-trees. At the close
of the day, the vampires, or winged
bats, suck the blood of the traveller,
and cool him bv the flap of their
wings. Nor has Nature forgotten to
amuse herself here in the composition
of snakes : — the camoudi has been
killed from thirtj to forty feet long ;
he does not act bj venom, but bv size
and convolution. The Spaniards affirm
that he grows to the length of eighty
feet, and that he will swallow a bull ;
bat Spaniards love the superlative.
There is a whipsnake, of a beautiful
green. The Labairi snake, of a dirty
brown, who kills you in a few minutes.
Every lovely colour under heaven is
lavished upon the conna-chouchi, the
most venomous of reptiles, and known
by the name of the bush'tntister, Man
and beast, says Mr. Waterton, fly be-
fore Mm, and allow him to pursue an
undisputed path.

We consider the following descrip-
tion of the various sounds in these wild
regions, as yery striking, and done with
Teiy considerable powers of style»

"He whose eye can distinguish the vari*
OQB beauties of uncultivated nature, and
whose ear is not shut to the wild sounds in
the woods, will be delighted in passing up
the river Bemerara. Every now and then,
the maam or tinamou sends forth one long
And phiutive whistle from the depth of the
forest, and then stops ; whilst the yelping
of the toucan, and the shrill voice of the
bird called pi-pi-yo, is heard during the in-
tervaL The campanero never fiuls to attract
the attention of the passenger : at a distance
of nearly thiee miles you may hear this
saow-wUte bird tolling every four or five
minutesjlike the distant convent belL From
six to nine in the morning, the forests re-
sound with the mingled cries and strains of
the feathered race ; after this they gradu-
ally die away. From eleven to three all nar>
tore is hushed as in a midnight silence,
tad scarce a note is heard, saving that of
the campanero and the pi-pi-yo; it is then
that, oppressed by the solar heat, the birds
retire to the thickest shade, and wait for
the ref^hing cool of evening.

"At sundown the vampires, bats, and

goatsuckers, dart flrom their lonely retreat,
and skim along the trees on the river's bank.
The different kuds of fh)gs almost stun the
ear with their hoarse and hollow sounding
croaking, while the owls and goatsuckers
lament and mourn all night long.

"About two hours before daybreak you
will hear the red monkey moaning as though
in deep distress ; tiie houtou, a solitaiy bird,
and only found in the thickest recesses of
the fwest, distinctly articulates, ' houtou,
houtou,' in % low and plaintive tone, an
hour before sunrise; the maam whistles
about the same hour; the hannaquoi, pa*
taca, uid marondi announce his near
approach to the eastern horison, and the
parrots and paroquets oonflrm his arrival
tbere."->(pp. 18—16.)

Our good Quixote of Demerara Is
a little too fond of apostrophising: —
** Traveller ! dost thou think ? Rea-
der) dost thou imagine ? " Mr. Water-
ton should remember, that the whole
merit of these violent deviations from
common style depends upon their ra-
rity ) and that nothing does, for ten
pages together, but the indicative mood.
This fault gives an air of affectation to
the writing of Mr. Waterton, which we
believe to be foreign from his charac-
ter and nature. We do not wbh to
deprive him of these indulgences alto-
gether ; but merely to put him upon an
allowance^ and upon such an allowance
as will give to these figures of speech
the advantage of surprise and relief.

This gentleman's delight and exul-
tation always appear to increase as he
loses sight of European inventions, and
comes to something purely Indian.
Speaking of an Indian tribe, he says, —

" They had only one gun, and it appeared
rusty and neglected; but their poisoned
weapons were in fine order. Their blow-
pipes hung from the roof of the hut, care-
tvjlj suspended by a silk grass cord; and
on taking a nearer view of them, no dust
seemed to have collected there, nor had the
spider spun the smallest web on them;
which showed that they wore in constant
use. The quivers were close by them, with
the jaw-bone of the fish pirai tied by a string
to their brim, and a small wicker-basket
of wild cotton, which hung down to the
centre : they were nearly ftill of poisoned
arrows. It was with difficulty these Indians
could be persuaded to part with any of the
Wourali poison, though a good price was
offered for it : they gave us to understand

'6

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

that it was powder and shot to them, and
very difBicult to be procured.'*— (pp. 34, 86.)

A wicker-basket of wild cotton, full
of poisoned arrows for shooting iish !
This is Indian with a vengeance. We
fairly admit, that in the contemplation
of sach utensils, every trait of civi-
lised life is completely and effectaally
banished.

One of the strange and fanciful ob-
jects of Mr. Waterton's journey was,
to obtain & better knowledge of the
composition and nature of the Won-
rail poison, the ingredient with which
the Indians poison their arrows. In
the wilds of Esseqnibo, far away from
any European settlements, there is a
tribe of Indians, known by the name
of Macoushi, The Wouraii poison is
nsed by all the South American savages
betwixt the Amazon and the Oroo-
noque ; but the Macoushi Indians
manufacture it with the greatest skill,
and of the greatest strength. A vine
grows in* the forest, called Wouraii;
and from this vine, together with a
good deal of nonsense and absurdity,
the poison is prepared. When a native
of Macoushi goes in quest of feathered
game, he seldom carries his bow and
arrows. It is the blow-pipe he then
uses. The reed grows to an amazing
length, as the part the Indians use is
from 10 to 11 feet long, and no taper-
ing can be perceived, one end being as
thick as another; nor is tliere the slight-
est appearance of a knot or joint. The
end which is applied to the month is
tied round with a small silk grass cord.
The arrow is from 9 to 10 inches long;
it is made out of the leaf of a palm-
tree, and pointed as sharp as a needle :
about an inch of the pointed end is
poisoned; the other end is burnt to
make it still harder; and wild cotton is
put round it for an inch and a half.
The quiver holds from .OOO to 600
arrows, is from 12 to 14 inches long,
and in shape like a dice-box. With a
quiver of these poisoned aiTows over
his shoulder, and his blow-pipe in his
hand, the Indian stalks into the forest
in quest of his feathered game.

"These generally sit high up inthetaU
and tufted trees, but still are not out of the
Indian's reach; for his blow-pipe, at its

greatest elevation, will send an arrow three
hundred feet. Silent as midnight he steals
under them, and so cautiously does he tread
the ground, that the fallen leaves rustle not
beneath his feet. His ears are open to the
least sound, while his eye, keen as that of
the lynx, is employed in finding out the
game in the thickest shade. Often he imi-
tates thdr cry, and decoys them from tree
to tree, till they are within range of his
tube. Then, taking a poisOned arrow fkrom
his quiver, he puts it in the blow-pipe, and
collects his breath for the fatal puff.

*' About two feet firom the end through
which he blows, there are fastened two
teeth of the acouri, and these serve him for
a sight. Silent and swift the arrow flies,
and seldom fails to pierce the object at
which it is sent. Sometimes the wounded
bird remains in the same tree where it was
shot, but in three minutes falls down at the
Indian's feet. Should he take wing, his
flight is of short duration, and the Indian,
following in the direction he has gone, is
sure to find him dead.

".It is natural to ima^ne that, when a
slight wound oidy is infiicted, the game
will make its escape. Far otherwise; the
Wouraii poison instantaneously mixes with
blood or water, so that if you wet your
finger, and dash it along the poisoned
arrow in the quickest manner possible, you
are sure to carry off some of the poison.

" Though three minutes generally elapse
before the convulsions come on in the
wounded bird, still a stupor evidently takes
place sooner, and this stupor manifests
itself by an apparent imwillingness in the
bird to move. This was veiy visible in a
dying fowL"— (pp. 60—62.)

The flesh of the giame is not in the •
slightest degree injured by the poison ;
nor does it appear to be corrupted
sooner than that killed by the gun or
knife. For the larger animals, an
arrow with a poisoned spike is used.

"Thus armed with deadly poison, and
hungry as the hyaena, he ranges through
the forest in quest of the wild beasts' track.
No hound can act a surer part. Without
clothes to fetter him, or shoes to bind his
feet, he observes the footsteps of the game^
where an European eye could not discern
the smallest vestige. He pursues it through
all its turns and windings, with astonishing
perseverance, and success generally crowns
his efforts. The animal, after receiving the
pqisoned arrow, seldom retrtets two hun-
dred paces before it drops.

" In passing over land from the Essequibo
to the Demerara» we fell in with a heard of

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

wild hogs. Though encumbered with bag-
gage, and fttigued with a hard day's walk,
an Indian got his bow ready, and let fly a
poisoned arrow at one of them. It entered
the cheek-bone, and broke off. The wild
hog was found quite dead about one hun-
dred and seventy paces from the place
where he had been shot. He afforded us
an excellent and wholesome supper." —
(p. 66.)

Being a Woitrali poison fancier, Mr.
Waterton has recorded several instan-
ces of the power of his favourite drug.
A sloth poisoned by it went gently to
sleep, and died ! a large ox, weighing
one thousand pounds, was shot with
three arrows; the poison took effect in
4 minutes, and in 25 minutes he was
dead. The death seems to be very
gentle, and resembles more a quiet
apoplexy, brought on by hearing a
long story, than any other kind of
death. If an Indian happen to be
wounded with one of these arrows, he
considers it as certain death. We have
reason to congratulate ourselves that
our method of terminating disputes in
by sword and pistol, and not by these
medicated pins ; which, we presume,
will become the weapons of gentlemen in
the New Republics of South America.

The second Journey of Mr. Water-
ton, in the year 1816, was to Fernam-
buco, in the southern hemisphere, on
the coast of Brazil; and from thence
he proceeds to Cayenne. His plan
was, to have ascended the Amazon
from Para, and got into the Rio Negro,
and from thence to have returned to-
wards the source of the Essequibo, in
order to examine the Crystal Moun-
tains, and to look once more for Lake
Parima, or the White Sea ; but on
arriving at Cayenne, he found that to
beat up the Amazon would be long and
tedious: he left Cayenne, therefore, in
an Anaerican ship for Paramaribo,
went throngh the interior to Coryntin,
stopped a few days at New Amster-
dam, and proceeded to Dcmerara.

"Leave behind you (he says to the tra-
veller) your high-seasoned dishes, your
wines, and your delicacies ; carry nothing
but what is necessary for your own comfort,
and the object in view, and depend upon
the ddll of an Indian, or your own, for fish

77

and game. A sheet, about twelve feet long,
ten wide, painted, and with loop-holes on
each side, will be of great service : in a few
minutes you can suspend it betwixt two
trees in the shape of a roof. Under this, in
your hammock, you may defy the pelting
shower, and sleep heedless of the dews of
night. A hat, a shirt, and a light pair of
trowsers, will be all the raiment you re-
quire. Custom will soon teach you to tread
lightly and barefbot on the Uttle inequalities
of the ground, and show you how to pass
on, unwounded, amid the mantling briiurs."
—(pp. 112; 113.)

Snakes are certainly an annoyance;
but the snake, though high spirited, is
not quarrelsome; he considers his fangs
to be given for defence, and not for
annoyance, and never inflicts a wound
but to defend existence. If you tread
upon him, ho puts you to death for
your clumsiness, merely because he
does not understand what your clum-
siness means ; and certainly a snake,
who feels fourteen or fifteen stone
stamping upon his tail, has little time
for reflection, and may be allowed to
be poisonous and peevish. American
tigers generally run away — from which
several respectable gentlemen in Par-
liament inferred, in the American war,
that American soldiers would run away
also !

The description of the birds is very
animated and interesting ; but how far
does the gentle reader imagine the
campanero may be heard, whose size
is that of a jay ? Perhaps 300 yards.
Poor innocent, ignorant reader ! un-
conscious of what Nature has done in
the forests of Cayenne, and measuring
the force of tropical intonation by the
sounds of a Scotch duck I The cam-
panero may be heard three miles I —
this single little bird being more power-
ful than the belfry of a cathedral, ring-
ing for a new dean — just appointed on
account of shabby politics, small un-
derstanding, and good family!

" The fifth species is the celebrated cam-
panero of the Spaniards, called dara by the
Indians, and bell-bird by the English. He
is about the size of the jay. His plumage
is white as snow. On his forehead rises a
spiral tube nearly three inches long. It is
jet black, dotted all over with small white
feathers. It has a communication with the

78

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

p&]sto» and when filled with &ir, looks like
a spire ; when empty it becomes pendulous.
His note is loud and clear, like the sound
of a bell, and may he heard at the distonoe
of three miles. In the midst of these exten-
sive wildfl, generally on the dried top of an
aged mora, almost out of gun reach, you
will see the campanero. No aonnd or song
from any of the winged inhabitants of the
forest, not even the clearly pronounced
• Whip-poor-Will,* flpom the goatsucker,
cause such astonishment as the toll of the
campanero.

"With many of the feathered race he
pays the common tribute of a morning and
an evening song ; and even when the meri*
dian sun has shut in silence the mouths of
almost the whole of animated nature, the
camiMknero still cheers the forest. You
hear his toll, and then a pause for a minute,
then another toll, and then a pause again,
and then a toll, and again a pause."— (pp.
117, 118.)

It is impossible to contradict a gen-
tleman who has been in the forests of
Cayenne ; bat we are determined, as
soon as a campanero is brought to
England, to make him toll in a public
place, and have the distance measured.
The toucan has an enormous bill,
makes a noise like a puppy dog, and
lays his eggs in hollow trees ? How
astonishing are the freaks and fancies
of Nature ! To what parpose, we
say, is a bird placed in the woods of
Cayenne, with a bill a yard long,
making a noise like a pnppy dog, and
laying eggs in hollow trees? The
toucans, to be sure, might retort, to
what purpose were gentlemen in Bond
street created ? To what purpose
were certain foolish prating Members
of Parliament created ?— pestering the
House of Commons with their igno-
rance and folly, and impeding the busi-
ness of the country ? There is no end
of such questions. So we will not
enter into the metaphysics of the tou-
can. The houtou ranks high in beauty ;
his whole body is green, his wings and
tail blue, his crown is of black and
blue ; he makes no nest, but rears his
young in the sand.

'* The caasique, in size, is larger than the
starling; he courts the society of man, but
disdains to live by his labours. When
Nature calls for support, he repairs to the
neighbouring forest, and there partakes of

the store of fruits and seeds, which she has
produced in abundance for her aSrial tribes.
When his repast is over, he returns to
man, and pays the little tribute which he
owes Um for his iirotection ; he takes his
station on a tree, close to his houoe ; and
there, for hours together, pours forth a
succmsion of imitative notes. His own
song is sweet, but very short. If a toucan
be yelping in the neighbourhood, he drops
it, and imitates him. Then he will amuse
his protector with the cries of the difTerent
species of the woodpecker ; and when the
sheep bleat, he will distinctly answer them.
Then cornea his own song again, and if a
puppy dog or a guinea fowl interrupt him,
he takes them off admirably, and by his
different gestures during the time, you
would conclude that he enjoys the sport.

"The cassique is gregarious, and imitates
any sound he hears with such eacactness,
that he goes by no other name than that of
mocking-bird amongst the colonists.** —
(pp. 127, 128.)

There is no end to the extraordinaiy
noises of the forest of Cayenne. The
woodpecker, in striking against the
tree with his bill, makes a sound so
loud, that Mr. Waterton says it re-
minds you more of a wood-cutter than
a bird. While lying in your hammock,
you hear the goatsucker lamenting like
one in deep distress — a stranger would
take it for a Weir murdered by ThurtelL

" Suppose yourself in hopeless sorrow,,
begin with a high loud note, and pronounce^
' ha, ha, ha^ ha, ha* ha* ha^* each note lower
and lower, till the last is scarcely heard,
pausing a moment or two betwixt every
note, and you will have some idea of the
moaning of the largest goatsucker in Deme-
rank"— (p. 141.)

One species of the goatsucker cries,
** Who are you ? who are yon ?" An-
other exclaims, "Work away, work
away." A third, "Willy, come go,
Willy, come go.** A fourth, " Whip-
poor-Will, Whip-poor-Will.** It is
very flattering to us that they should
all speak English ! — though we cannot
much commend the elegance of their
selections. The Indians never destroy
these birds, believing them to be the
servants of Jumbo, the African devil.

Great travellers are very fond of
triumphing over civilised life; and Mr.
Waterton does not omit the opportu-
nity of remarking, that nobody ever

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

79

ttopt hilt) in the forests of Cayenne to
ask him for his licence, or to inquire if
he had a hundred a year, or to take
away his gan, or to dispute the limits
of a manor, or to threaten him with a
tropical justice of the peace. We hope,
however, that in this point we are on
the eve of improvement, Mr, Peel,
who is a man of high character and
principles, may depend upon it that
the time is come for his interference,
and that it will be a loss of reputation
to him not to interfere. If any one
else can and will carry an alteration
through Parliament, there is no occa«
sion that the hand of Government
should appear; but some hand must
appear. The common people are be-
coming ferocious, and the perdricide
criminals are more numerous than the
violators of all the branches of the
Decalogue,

"The king of the vultures is very hand-
some, and seems to be the only bird which
cbums r^;^! honours from a surrounding
tribe. It is a fiict bt^ond aU dispute, that
when the scent of carrion has drawn toge-
ther hundreds of the common vultures, they
all rethre from the carcass as soon as the
long of the vultures malkes his appearance.
When his majesty has satisfied the cravings
of his royal stomach with the choicest bits
from the most stinking and corrupted parts,
he generally retires to a neighbouring tree,
SDd then the common vultures return in
crowds to gobble down his leavings. The
Indians, as well as the whites, have ob-
Berved this ; for vrhen one of them, who has
learned a little English, sees the king, and
wishes you to have a proper notion of the
bird, he says, ' There is the governor of the
carrion crows.*

" Now, the Indians have never heard of a
personage in Demerara higher than that of
Sovemor; and the colonists, through a
common mistake, call the vultures carrion
<!row8. Hence the Indian, in order to ex-
press the dominion of this bird over the
common vultures, tells you he is governor
of the carrion crows. The Spaniards have
•too observed it, for through all the Spanish
Hatn he is called Bey de Zamuros, king of
the vultures."— (p. 14A.)

This, we think, explains satisfacto-
rily the origin of kingly government.
As men have " learnt from the dog the
physic of the field," they may probably
have learnt from the vulture those high

lessons of policy upon which, in En-
rope, we suppose the whole happiness
of society, and the very existence of
the human race, to depend.

Just before his third journey, Mr.
Waterton takes leave of Sir Joseph
Banks, and speaks of him with affec-
tionate regret, ** I saw," (says Mr. W. )
'* with sorrow, that death was going to
rob us of him. We talked of stufiing
quadrupeds ; I agreed that the lips and
nose ought to be cut off, and stuffed
with wax." This is the way great
naturalists take an eternal farewell of
each other ! Upon stufiing animals,
however, we have a word to say. Mr.
Waterton has placed at the head of
his book, the picture of what he is
pleased to consider a nondescript spe-
cies of monkey. In this exhibition our
author is surely abusing his stuffing
talents, and laughing at the public It
is clearly the head of a Master in
Chancery — whom we have often seen
backing in the House of Commons
after he has delivered his message.
It is foolish thus to trifie with science
and natural history. Mr. Waterton
gives an interesting account of the
sloth, an animal of which he appears
to be fond, and whose habits he has
studied with peculiar attention.

^ "Some years ago I kept a sloth in my
room for several months. I often took him
out of the house and placed him upon the
ground, in order to have an opportunity of
observing his motions. If the ground were
rough, he would pull himself forwards by
means of his fore legs, at a pret^ good
pace i and he invariably shaped his course
towards the nearest tree. But if I put him
upon a smooth and well-trodden part of the
road, he appeared to be in trouble and dis-
tress : his favourite abode was the back of
a chair ; and after getting all his legs in a
line upon the topmost part of it, he would
hang there for hours together, and often,
with a low and inward cry, would seem to
invite me to take notice of him."— (p. 164.)

The sloth, in its wild state, spends
its life in trees, and never leaves them
but from force or accident. The eagle
to the sky, the mole to the ground, the
sloth to the tree ; but what is most
extraordinary, he lives not ttpon the
branches, but under them. He moves
suspended, rests suspended, sleeps sus-

80

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

pended, and passes his life in suspense —
like a young clergyman distantly re-
lated to a bishop. Strings of ants
may be observed, says our good travel-
ler, a mile long, each carrying in its
mouth a green leaf the size of a six-
pence ! be does not say whether this is
a loyal procession, like Oak-apple Day,
or for what purpose these leaves are
carried ; but it appears, while they are
carrying the leaves, the three soits of
ant-bears are busy in eating them. The
habits of the largest of these three ani-
mals are curious, and tO us new. We
recommend the account to the attention
of the reader.

*'He is chiefly found in the inmost re-
cesses of the forest, and seems partial to
the low and swampy parts near creeks
where the Troely tree grows. There he
goes up and down in quest of ants, of which
there is never the least scarcity; so that he
soon obtains a sufflcient supply of food,
with very Uttle trouble. He cannot travel
fost; man is superior to him in speed.
Without swiftness to enable him to escape
from his enemies, without teeth, the pos-
session of which would assist him in self-
defence, and without the power of burrow-
ing in the ground, by which he might
conceal himself fh>m his pursuers, he still
is capable of ranging through these wilds
in perfect safety ; nor does he fear the flital
pressure of the serpent's fold, or the teeth
of the famished jaguar. Nature has formed
his fore legs wonderfully thick, and strong,
and muscular, and armed his feet with
three tremendous sharp and crooked claws.
Whenever he seizes an animal with these
formidable weapons, he hugs it close to his
body, and keeps it there till it dies through
pressure, or through want of food. Nor
does the ant-bear, in the meantime, sufTer
much from loss of aliment, as it is a well-
known fact that he can go longer without
food than perhaps any other animal, except
the land tortoise. His skin is of a texture
that perfectly resists the4)ite of a dog ; his
hinder parts are protected by thick and
shaggy hair, while his immense tail is large
enough to cover his whole body.

" The Indians have a great dread of com-
ing in contact with the ant-bear ; and after
disabling him in the chase, never think of
approaching him till he be quite dead."—
(pp. 171. 172.)

The vampire measures about 26
inches from wing to wing. There are
two species, large and small. The large

suck men, and the smaller birds. Mr.
W. saw some fowls which had been
sucked the night before, and they were
scarcely able to walk.

"Some years ago I went to the river
Paumaron with a Scotch gentleman, l^
name Tarbet. We hung our hammocks in
the thatched loft of a planter's house. Next
morning I heard this gentleman muttering
in his hammock, and now and then letting
fall an imprecation or two, just about the
time he ought to have been saying his
morning prayers. ' What is the matter.
Sir ? ' said I, softly ; 'is anything amiss f ' —
' What's the matter ? ' answered he, surlily ;
' why the vampires have been sucking me
to death.' As soon as there was light
enough, I went to his hammock, and saw it
much stained with blood. ' There,' said he,
thrusting his foot out of the hammock,
'see how these infernal imps have been
drawing my life's blood.' On examining
his foot, I found the vampire hyd tapped
his great toe : there was a wound somewhat
less than that made by a leech; the blood
was still oozing from it; I conjectured he
might have lost from ten to twelve ounces
of blood. Whilst examining it, I think I
put him into a worse humour by remarking
that an European surgeon would not have
been so generous as to have blooded him
without making a chai^. He looked up in
my face, but did not say a word: I saw he
was of opinion that I had better have
spared this piece of ill-timed levity." —
(pp. 176, 177.)

The story which follows this account
is vulgar, unworthy of Mr. Waierton,
and should have been omitted.

Every animal has his enemies. The
land tortoise has two enemies — ^man,
and the boa constrictor. The natural
defence of the tortoise is to draw him-
self up in his shell» and to remain
quiet. In this state, the tiger, however
famished, can do nothing with him, for
the shell is too strong for the stroke of
his paw. Man, however, takes him
home and roasts him — and the boa
constrictor swallows him whole, shell
and all, and consumes him slowly in
the interior, as the Court of Chancery
does a great estate.

The danger seems to be much less
with snakes and wild beasts, if you
conduct yourself like a gentleman, and
are not abruptly intrusive. If you will
pass on gently, you may walk unhurt
within a yard of the Labairi snake.

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA-

81

who would pnt joa to death if you
r&shed upon him. The ta^uan knocks
you down with a blow of his paw, if
suddenly interrupted, but will run away,
if yon will give him time to do so. In
short, most animals look upon man as a
yery ugly castomer ; and, unless sorely
pressed for food, or from fear of their
own safety, are not fond of attacking
him. Mr. Waterton, though much given
to sentiment, roadeaLabairi snakebite
itself, but no bad consequences ensued
— nor would any bad consequences
ensue, if a court>martial were to order
a shiful soldier to give himself a thou-
sand lashes. It is barely possible that
the snake had some faint idea whom
and what he was biting.

Insects fire the curse of tropical cli-
.mates. The bete rouge lays the foun-
dation of a tremendous ulcer. In a
moment yon are covered with ticks.
Chigoes bury themselves in your flesh,
and hatch a large colony of young
chigoes in a few hours. They will not
live together, but every chigoe sets up
A separate ulcer, and has his own pri-
vate portion of pus. Flies get entry
into your mouth, into your eyes, into
your nose ; you eat flies, drink flics,
and breathe flies. Lizards, cockroaches,
and snakes, get into the bed ; ants eat
up the books ; scorpions sting you on
the foot. Everything bites, stings, or
bruises; every second of your exist-
ence yon are wounded by some piece
of animal life that nobody has ever
seen before, except Swammerdam and
Meriam. An insect with eleven legs
is swimming in your teacup, a nonde-
script with nine wings is struggling in
the small beer, or a caterpillar with
several dozen eyes in his belly is
hastening over the bread and butter!
All nature is alive, and seems to be
gathering all her entomological hosts
to eat you up, as you are standing, out
of your coat, waistcoat, and breeches.
Such are the tropics. All this recon-
ciles us to our dews, fogs, vapours, and
drizzle — to our apothecaries rushing
about with gargles and tinctures — to
our old, British, constitutional coughs,
sore throats, and swelled faces.

We come now to the counterpart of
St. George and the Dragon. Every

VouIL

one knows that the large snake of tro-
pical climates throws himself upon his
prey, twists the folds of his body round
the victim, presses him to death, and
then eats him. Mr. Waterton wanted
a large snake for the sake of his skin ;
and it occurred to him, that the suc-
cess of this sort of combat depended
upon who began first, and that if ho
could contrive to fling himself upon
the snake, he was just as likely to send
the snake to ihe British Museum, as
the snake, if allowed the advantage of
prior occupation, was to eat him up.
The opportunities which Yorkshire
squires have of combating with the
boa constrictor are so few, that Mr.
Waterton must be allowed to tell his
own story in his own manner.

" We went slowly on in silence, without
moving our arms or heads, in order to pro-
vent all alarm as much as possible, lest the
snake should glide off, or attack us in self-
defence. I carried the lance perpendicu-
larly before me, with the point about a foot
from the ground. The snake had net
moved ; and on getting up to him, I struck
him with the lance on the near side, just be-
hind the neck, and pinned himtotheground.
That moment the n<^nro n&fi to me seized
the lanoe and held it firm in its place, while
I dashed head foremost into the den to
grapple with the snake, and to get hold of
his tail before he could do any misohief.

** On pinning him to the ground with the
limce, he gave a tremendous loud hiss, and
the little d(^ ran away, howling as he went.
We had a sharp flray in the den, the rotten
sticks llyii^ on all sides, and each party
struggling for superiority. I called out to
the second negro to throw himself upon
me, as I found I was not heavy enough.
He did so, and the additional weight was of
great service. I had now got firm hold of
his tail ; and after a violent struggle or two,
he gave in, finding himself overpowered.
This was the moment to secure him. So,
while the first negro continued to hold the
lance firm to the ground, and the Qther was
helping me, I contrived to unloose my
braces, and with them tied up the snake's
mouth,

** The snake, now finding himself in an
unpleasant situation, tried to better him-
self, and set resolutely to work, but we
overpowered him. We contrived to make
him twist himself round the shaft of the
lance, and then prepared to convey him out
of the forest. I stood at his head, and held
it firm under my arm, one negro supported

G

^2

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

the belly, and the other the tail. In this
order we b^an to move slowly towards
homo, and reached it after resting ten
times ; for the snake was too heavy for us
to support him without stopping to recruit
our strength. As we proceeded onwards
with him, he fought hard for ft-eedom, but
it was all in vain."~(pp. 202—201.)

One of these combats we should have
thought sufficient for glory, and for the
interests of the British Museum. But
Hercules killed two snakes, and Mr.
Waterton would not be coutent with
less.

"There was a path where timber had
formerly been dnm^ed along. Here I ob-
served a young coulacanara, ten feet long,
slowly moving onwards ; I saw he was not
thidk enough to break my arm, in case he
got twisted round it. There was not a mo-
ment to be lost. I laid hold of his tail with
the left hand, one knee being on the ground ;
with the right I took off my hat, and held
it as you would hold a shield for defence.

" The snake instantly turned, and came
on at me, with his head about a yard fW»m
the ground, as if to ask me what business
I had to take liberties with his taiL I let
him come, hissing and open-mouthed,
within two feet of my fskce, and then, with
all the force I was master of, I drove my
list, shielded by my hat, fUll in his jaws.
He was stunned and confounded by the
blow, and ere he could recover himself, I
had seized his throat with both hands, in
such a position that he could not bite me ;
I then allowed him to coil himself round
my body, and marched off with him as my
lawful prize. He pressed me hard, bat not
alarmingly sa**— (pp. 206, 207.)

When the body of the large snake
began to smell, the vultui-es imme-
diately arrived. The king of the vul-
tures first gorged himself, and then
retired to a large tree while ^his sub-
jects consumed the remainder. It does
not appear that there was any favour-
itism. When the king was full, all the
mob vultures ate alike ; neither could
Mr. Waterton perceive that there was
any division into Catholic and Protes-
tant vultures, or that the majority of
the flock thought it essentially vultur-
ish to exclude one third of their num-
bers from the blood and entrails. The
vulture, it is remarkable, never eats
live animals. He seems to abhor every-
thing which has not the relish of pu-

trescence and flavour of. death. The
following is a characteristic specimen
of the little inconveniences to which
travellers are liable, who sleep on the
feather-beds of tlie forest To see a
rat in a room in Europe insures a night
of horror. Everything is by compa-
rison.

" About midnight, as I was lying awaket
and in great pain, I heard the Indians say,
'Massa^ massa, you no hear tig^?' I lis-
tened attentively, and heard the softly
sounding tread of his feet as he approached
us. The moon had gone down ; but every
now and theu we could get a glance of him
by the light of our fire : he was the jaguar,
for I could see the spots on his body. Had
I wished to have fired at him, I was not
able to take a sure aim, for I was in such
pain that I could not turn myself in my
hammock. The Indian would have fired,
but I would not allow him to do so, as I
wanted to see a Uttle more of our new
visitor; for it is not every day or night
that the traveller is favoured with an un-
disturbed sight of the jaguar in his own
forest.

" Whenever the fire got low, the ja^niar
came a little nearer, and when the Indian
renewed it, he retired abruptly ; sometimes
he would oome within twenty yards, and
then we had a view of him, sitting on his
hind legs Uke a dog; sometimes he moved
slowly to and firo, and at other times we
could hear him mend his pace, as if impa-
tient. At last the Indian, not relishing the
idea of having such company in the neigh-
bourhood, could contain himself no longer,
and set up a most tremendous yell. The
jaguar bounded off like a race-horse, and
returned no more ; it appeared by the print
of his feet the next morning, that He was a
full-grown jaguar"— (pp. 212, 213.)

We have seen Mr. Waterton fling
himself upon a snake ; we shall now
mount him upon a crocodile, under-
taking that this shall be the laist of his
feats exhibited to the reader. He bad
baited for a cayman or crocodile, the
hook was swallowed, and the object
was to pull the animal up and to se-
cure him. ** If you pull him up,** say
(he Indians, ** as soon as he sees you on
the brink of the river, he will run at
you and destroy you.'* " Never mind,"
says our traveller, ** pull away, and
leave the rest to me.*' And accord-
ingly he places himself upon the shore,
with the mast of the canoe in his hand.

WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

83

ready to force it down the throat of the
crocodile, as soon as he makes his
appearance.

" By the time the cayman was within two
yards of me, I saw he was in a state of fear
and perturtaafcion ; I instantly dropped the
mast, sprang np, and jumped on his badL.
taming half round as I vaulted, so that I
gained my seat with my face in a right
position. I immediately seized his fore
legs, and, by main force, twisted them on
his back ; thus they served me for a bridle.

** He now seemed to have recovered from
his surprise, and probably fiincying himself
in hostile company, he began to plunge fu-
riously, and lashed the sand with his long
and powerftil tail. I was out of reach of
the strokes of it, by being near his head. He
continued to plunge and strike, and made
my seat very uncomfortable. It must have
been a fine sight for an unoccupied spec-
tator.

** The people roared out in triumph, and
were so Vociferous, that it was some time
before they heard me tell them to pull me
and my beast of burden fturther in land. I
was apprehensive the rope might break,
and then there would have been every
chance of going down to the regions under
water with the cayman. That would have
been more perilous than Arion's marine
morning ride : —

' Belphini insidms, vada cserula sulcat
Arion.*

""The people now dragged us above forty
yards on the sand : it was the first and last
time I was ever on a cayman's back. Should
it be asked, how I managed to keep my seat,
I would answer— I hunted some years with
Lord Darlington's foxhounds."— (pp. 231,
SSL)

The Yorkshire gentlemen have long
been famous for their equestrian skill ;
bat Mr. Waterton is the first among
them of whom it could be said that he
has a fine hand upon a crocodile.
T^is accursed animal, so ridden by
Mr. Waterton, is the scourge and
terror of all the large rivers in South
America near the lane. Their bold^
ness is such* that a cayman has some-
times come out of the Oroonoque, at
Angostura, near the public walks
where the people were assembled,
seized a full-grown man, as big as Sir
William Curtis after dinner, and hur-
ried him into the bed of the river for
his food. The governor of Angustura
witnessed this circnmstance himselC

Our Eboracic traveller had now been
nearl^r eleven months in the desert,
and not in vain. Shall we express our
doubts, or shall we confidently state at
once the immense wealth he had ac-
quired ? — a prodigious variety of in-
sects, two hundred and thirty birds,
ten land-tortoises, five armadillas, two
large serpents, a sloth, an ant-bear,
and a cayman. At Liverpool, the
Custom-house officers, men ignorant
of Linnaeus, got hold of his collection,
detained it six weeks, and, in spite of
remonstrances to the Treasury, he was
forced to paj very high duties. This
is really perfectly absurd ; that a man
of science cannot bring a pickled
armadilla, for a collection of natural
history, without paying a tax for jt.
This surely must have happened in the
dark days of Nicolas. We cannot
doubt but that such paltry exactions
have been swept away by the manly
and liberal policy of Robinson and
Husklsson. That a great people should
compel an individual to make them a
payment before he can be permitted to
land a stuffed snake upon their shores,
is, of all the paltry Custom-house rob-
beries we ever heard of, the most mean
and contemptible — but Major renmi^
ordo nascitur.

The fourth journey of Mr. Waterton
is to the United States. It is pleasantly
written ; but our author does not ap-
pear as much at home among men as
among beasts. Shooting, stuffing, and
pursuing are his occupations. He is
lost in places where there are no
bushes, snakes, nor Indians — but he
is full of good and amiable feeling
wherever he goes. We cannot avoid
introducing the following passage : —

"The steam-boat firom Quebec to Mon-
treal had above five hundred Irish emi-
grants on board. They were going 'they .
hardly knew whither,' far away from dear
Ireland. It made one's heart ache to see
them all huddled together, without any ex-
pectation of ever revisiting their native soil.
We feared that the sorrow of leaving home
for ever, the miserable accommodations on
board the ship which had brought them
away, and the tossing of the angry ocean, in
a long and dreary voyage, would have ren-
dered them callous to good behaviour. But
it was quite otherwise. They conducted

Q 2

SA

GRANBT.

themselves with great propriety. Every
i^xnerican on board seemed to feel for them.
And then, *they were so full of wretched-
ness. Need and oppression stared within
their eyes. Upon their backs bung ragged
misery. The world was not their fHend.'
'Poor dear Ireland,* exclaimed an aged fe»
male, as I was talking to her, ' I shall never
see it any more I ' "^(pp. 259, 260.)

And thus it is in every region of the
earth I There is no country where an
Englishman can set his foot, that he
does not meet these miserable victims
of English cruelty and oppression —
banished from their country by the
stupidity, bigotry, and meanness of the
English people, who trample on their
liberty and conscience, because each
man is afraid, in another reign, of
being out of favour, and losing his
share in the spoil.

We are always glad to see America
praised (slavery excepted). And yet
there is still, we fear, a party in this
country, who are glad to pay their
court to the timid and the feeble, by
sneering at this great spectacle of
human happiness. We never think of
it without considering it as a great
lesson to the people of England, to
look into their own a^airs, to watch
and suspect their rulers, and not to be
defrauded of happiness and money by
pompous names, and false pretences.

"Our western brother is. in possession of
a country replete with everything that can
contribute to the happiness and comfort of
mankind. His code of laws, purified by ex-
perience and opmmon ^nse, has fully an-
swered the expectations of the public. By
acting up to the true spirit of this code, he
has reaped immense advantages from it.
His advancement,' as a nation, has been
rapid beyond all calculation ; and, young as
he is, it may be remarked, without any im-
"propriety, that he is now actually reading a
salutary lesson to the rest of the civilised
world."— (p. 278.)

Now, what shall ve say, after all, of
•Mr. Waterton ? That he has spent a
•great part of his life in wandering in
the wild scenes he describes, and that
he describes them with entertaining
zeal and real feeling. His stories draw
largely sometimes on our faith ; but a
man who lives in the woods of Cayenne
must do many odd things, and see

many odd things — things utterly un-
known to the dwellers in Hackney and
Highgate. We do not want to rein
up Mr, Waterton too tightly — becjinso
we are convinced he goes best with his
bead free. But a little less of apo-
strophe, and some faint suspicion of his
own powers of humour, would im-
prove this gentleman's style. As it i9,
he has a considerable talent at describ-
ing. He abounds with good feeling;
and has written a very entertaining
book, which hurries the reader out of
his European parlour, into the heart of
tropical forests, and gives, over the
rules and the cultivation of the civil-
ised parts of the earth, a momentary
superiority to the freedom of the sav-
age, and the wild beauties of Nature.^
We honestly recommend the book to
our readers : it is well worth the
perusal.

GRANBY. (E. Rijview, 1826.)

Oranby, A Novel in Three Velumea, Lon-
don. Colbum. 1826.

T^ERB is nothing more amusing jn
the spectacles of the present day, than
to see the Sir John's and Sir Thomas's
of the House of Commons struck
aghast by the useful science and wise
novelties of Mr. Huskisson and the
Chancellor of the Exchequer^ Trea-
son, Disaffection, Atheism, Republic-
anism, and Socinianism — the great
guns'in the Noodle's pai'k of artillery
— they cannot bring to bear upon
these gentlemen. Even to charge with
a regiment of ancestors is not quite so
efficacious as it used to be ; and all
that remains, therefore, is to r^il
against Peter M^Culloch and Political
Economy \ In the meantime, day
after day, down goes one piece of
nonsense or another. The most ap-
proved trash, and the most trusty
clamours, are found to be utterly
powerless. Twopenny taunts and
trumpery truisms have lost their des-
tructive omnipotence ; and the ex-
hausted common-placemen, and the
afflicted fool, moan over the ashes of
Imbecility, and strew flowers on. the

GRANBY.

85

TTrn of Ignorance ! General Elliot
found the London tailors in a state
of mutiny, and, he raised from them
a regiment of light cavalry, which
distinguished itself in a very striking
manner at the battle of Minden. In
humble imitation of this example, we
shall avail ourselves of the present
political disaffection and unsatisfac-
tory idleness of many men of rank
and consequence, to request their at-
tention to the Novel of Granby —
written, as we have heard, by a young
gentleman of the name of Lister*,
and from which we have derived a
considerable deal of pleasure and en-
tcrtainment

The main question as to a novel is
— did it amuse ? were you surprised
at dinner coming so soon ? did you
mistake eleven for ten, and twelve for
eleven ? were you too late to dress ?
and did you sit up beyond the usual
hour ? If a novel produces these
effects, it is good j if it does not — >-
story, language, love, scandal itself
cannot save it. It is only meant to
please; and it must do that, or it does
nothing. Now Granby seems to us to
answer this test extremely well ; it
produces unpunctuality, makes the
reader too late for dinner, impatient
of contradiction, and inattentive, —
even if a bishop is making an obser-
vation, or a gentleman, lately from the
Pyramids, or the tipper Cataracts, is let
loose upon the drawing-room. The ob-
jection, indeed, to these compositions,
when they are well done« is, that it is
impossible to do anything, or perform
any human duty, while we are engaged
in them. Who can read Mr. Hallam*s
Middle Ages, or extract the root of an
impossible quantity, or draw up a bond,
when he is in the middle of Mr. Tre-
beck and Lady Charlotte Duncan ?
How can the boy*8 lesson be heard,
about the Jove-nourished Achilles, or
his six miserable verses upon Dido be
corrected, when Henry Granby and
^Ir. Courtenay are both making love
to Miss Jermyn ? Common life palls
in the middle of these artificial scenes.

* This is the gentleman who now keeps
the keys of Life and Death, the Jaoitor of
thelYorld.

All is emotion when the book is open
— ^all dull, flat, and feeble When it is shut.

Granby, a young man of no profies-
sion, living with an old uncle in the
country, falls in love with Miss JermyU)
and Miss Jermyn with him; but Sif
Thomas and Lady Jermyn, as the
young gentleman is not rich, having
discovered, by long living in the world
and patient observation of its ways,
that young people are commonly Mai*
thus-proof and have children, and that
young and old must eat, very naturally
do what they can to discourage the
union. The young people, however^
both go to town — meet at balls —
flutter, blush, look and cannot speak —
speak and cannot look) — suspect, mis*
interpret, ate sad and mad, peevish
and jealous^ fond and foolish ; but the
passion, after all) seems less near to
its accomplishment at the end of the
season than the beginning. The uncle
of Granby, however, dies, and leaves
to his nephew a statement accompanied
with the requisite proofs — that Mr.
Tyrrel, the supposed son of Lord Mal-
ton, is illegitimate, and that he. Gran-'
by, is the heir to Lord Malton's fortune.
The second volume is now far ad van*
ced, and it is time for Lord Malton to
die. Accordingly Mr. Lister very ju-
diciously despatches him ; Granby in*
berits the estate — his Virtues (for what
shows off virtue like land ?) are dis*
covered by the Jermyns — and they
marry in the last act.

Upon this slender story, the author
has succeeded in making a very agree*>
able and interesting novel ; and he has
succeeded) we think, chiefly by the
very easy and natural picture of man-
ners, as they really exist among the
upper classes t by the description of
new characters judiciously drawn and
faithfully preserved ; and by the in-
troduction of many striking and welU
managed incidents ; and we are parti*
cularly struck throughout the whole
with the discretion and good sense of
the author. He is never nimiousf
there is nothing in excess ; there is
a good deal of fancy and a great deal
of spirit at work, btit a directing and
superintending judgment rarely quits
him.

o 3

86

GRANBY.

We would instance, as a proof of
his tact and talent, the visit at Lord
Daventrj's, and the description of
characters of which the party is com-
posed. There are absolutely no events ;
nobody runs away, goes mad, or dies.
There is little of love, or of hatred ;
no great passion comes into play ; but
nothing can be further removed from
dulness and insipidity. Who has ever
lived in the world without often meet-
ing the Miss ClifU>ns ?

" The Miss Cliftons were good-humoured
girls ; not handsome, but of pleasing man-
ners, and sufEldently clever to keep up the
ball of conversation very agreeably for an
occasional half hour. They were alwa(y8 au
eourant du jour, and knew and saw the
first of everything— were in the earliest con-
fidence of many a bride elect, and could fro*
quently tell that a marriage was ' off' long
after it had been announced as ' on the tapis'
in the morning papers— always knew some-
thing of the new opera, or the new Scotch
novel, before anybody else did— were the
first who made fi^^, or acted charades —
contrived to have private views of most ex-
hibitions, and were supposed to have led
the fashionable throng to the Caledonian
Chapel, Cross Street, Hatton Garden. Their
employments were like those of most other
girls : they sang, played, drew, rode, read
occasionally, spoiled much muslin, manu-
factured purses, hflndscareens, and reticules
for a repository, and transcribed a consider-
able quantity of music out of large fair print
into diminutive manuscript.

" Miss Clifton was clever and accomplish-
ed; rather cold, but very conversible; col-
lected seals, fhtnks, and anecdotes of the
day; and was a great retailer of the latter.
Anne was odd and entertaining ; was a for-
midable quizzer, and no mean caricaturist;
liked fun in most shapes ; Mid next to mak-
ing people laugh, had rather they stared at
what she said. Maria was the echo of the
other two : vouched for all Miss Clifton's
anecdotes, and led the laugh at Anne's re-
pfui«C8. They wer6 plain, and th^ knew
it ; and cared less about it than young ladies
usually do. Their plainness, however, would
have been less striking, but for that hard,
pale, parboiled town look,— that stamp of
fashion, with which late hours and hot
rooms generally endow the female face."—
(pp. 103--105.)

Having introduced our reader to the
Miss Cliftons, we must make him ac-
quainted with Mr. Trebeck, oiie of
those universally appearing gentlemen

and tremendous 'table tyrants, by
whom London society is so frequently
governed : —

" Mr. Trebeck had great powers of enter-
tainment, and a keen and lively turn for
satire ; and could talk down his superiors,
whether in rank or talent, with v&ry im-
posing oonfldenceu He saw the advantages
of being formidable, and observed with de-
rision how those whose malignity he pam-
pered with ridicule of others, vainly thought
to purchase by subserviency exemption for
themselves. He had sounded the gullibility
of the world; knew the precise current
value of pretension ; and soon found him-
self the acknowledged umpire, the last ap-
peal, of many contented followers.

" He seldom committed himself by pnuse
or recommendation, but rather left his ex-
ample and adoption to work its way. As for
censure, he had both ample and witty stOre ;
but here too he often husbanded his re-
marks, and where it was needless or dan-
gerous to define a fiEMilt, could check
admiration by an incredulous smile, and de-
press pretensions of a season's standing by
the raisii^ of an eyebrow. He had a quick
perception of the foibles of others, and a
keen relish for banteringand exposing them.
No keeper of a menagerie could better show
off a monkey than he could an 'original.'
He could ingeniously cause the unconscious
subject to place his own absurdities in the
best point of view, and would cloak his d»>
rision under the blandest cajolery. Imita-
tors he loved much; but to baffle them—
more. He loved to turn upon the luckless
adopters of his last folly, and see them pre-
cipitately back out of the scrape into which
he himself had led them.

" In the art of cutting he shone unrivalled;
he knew the 'when,' the 'where,' and the
'how.* Without affecting useless short-
sightedness, he could assume that calm but
wandering gaze, which veers, as if uncon-
sciously, round the proscribed individual ;
neither fixing, nor to be fixed ; not looking
on vacBMcy, nor on any one object ; neither
occupied nor abstracted ; a look which per^
haps excuses you ^ the person cut, and, at
any rate, prevents him fh>m aocostii^ you.
Originality was his idol. He wished to as-
tonish, even if he did not amuse ; and had
rather say » silly thing than a common-
place one. He was led by this sometimes
even to approach the verge of rudeness and
vulgarity; but he had considerable tact, and
a happy hardihood, which generally carried
him through the difficulties into which his
fearless love of originality brought him.
Indeed, he well knew that what would, in
the present condition of hi^ reputation, be

GRANBT.

87

scouted in anybody else, would pass current
with the world in him. Sudi was the for-
fomed and redoubtable Mr. Trebeck."—
(pp. 109—112.)

This sketch we think exceedingly
clever. But we are not sure that its
merit is fully sustained by the actual
presentment of its subject* He makes
his debut at dinner very characteristi-
cally, by gliding in quietly after it is
half over ; but in the dialogue which
follows with Miss Jerniyn, he seems to
us a little too resolutely witty, and
somewhat affectedly odd — though the
whole scene is executed with spirit and
talent.

" The Duk^ had been discoursing on cook-
ery, when Mr. Trebeck turned to her, and
asked in a low tone if she had ever met the
Duke before—* I assure you/ said he, * that
upon that subject he is well worth attend-
ing to. He is supposed to possess more
true science than any amateur of his day.
"By the by, what is the dish before you P It
looks well, and I see you are eating some of
it. Let me recommend it to him upon your
authority ; I dw^ not upon my own.* — * Then
pray do not use mine.'— * Yes I will, with
your permission ; 111 tell him you thought,
by what dropped from him in conversation,
that it would exactly suit the genius of his
taste. Shi^l IP Yes.— Duke,' (raising his
voice a little, and speaking across the table,)
— * Oh, no ; how can you P *—* Why not P—
Ihike,' (with a glance at Caroline,) 'will
you allow me to take wine with youP*— * I
thought,' said she, relieved from, her trepi-
dation, and laughing slightly, 'you would
never say anything so very strange.' — * You
have too good an opinion of me ; I blush
for my unworthiness. But confess, that iu
fiftct you were rather alarmed at the idea of
being held up to such a critic as the reoom-
mender of a bad dish.' — * Oh no, I was not
thinking of that; but I hardly know the
Duke; and it would have seemed so odd;
and perhaps he might have thought that I
had really told you to say something of that
kind.*—* Of course he would ; but you must
not suppose that he would have been at all
surprised at it. I'm afraid you are not
aware of the full extent of your privileges,
and are not conscious how many things
young ladies can, and may, and will do.*—
' Indeed I am not — perhaps you will instruct
me.' — 'Ah, I never do that for anybody. I
like to see young ladies instruct themselves.
It is better for them, and much more amus-
ing to me. But, however, for once I will
venture to tell you, that a very competent

knowledge of the duties of women may,
with proper attention, be picked up in a
ball room.'— * Then I hope,' said she, laugh-
ing, ' you will attribute my deficiency to my
little experience of balls. I have only been
at two.'— 'Only two I and one of them I
suppose a race ball. Then you have not yet
experienced any of the pleasures of a Lon-
don season P Never had the dear delight of
seeing and being seen, in a well of tall peo-
ple at a rout, or passed a pleasant hour at
a ball upon a staircase P I envy you. Yon
have much to enjoy.'— * You do not mean
that I really have P *— * Yes—really. But let
me give you a caution or two. Never dance
with any man without first knowing his
character and condition, on the word of
two credible chaperons. At balls, too, con-
sider what you come for— tadance, of course,
and not to converse; therefore, never talk
yourself, nor encourage it in others.*—* I'm
afraid I can only answer for myself.'—* Why,
if foolish, well-meaning people will choose
to be entertaining, I question if you have
the power of fh>wning them down in a very
forbidding manner ; but 1 would give them
no countenance nevertheless.*— ' Your ad-
vice seems a little ironicaL'- * Oh, you may
either follow it or reverse it— that is its
chief beauty. It is equally good taken either
way.' After a slight pause he continued —
* I hope you do not sing, or play, or draw, or
do anything that everybody else does.'—* I
am obliged to confess that I do a little -
very little— in each,*— * I understand your
'*very little;" I'm afraid you are accom-
plished.'-' You need have no fear of that.
But why are you an enemy to all aocomi
plishmentsP'— *AllaccompUshments? Nay,
surely, you do not think me an enemy to
all P What can you possibly take me for P '
— * I do not know,' said she, laughing slight-
ly.— 'Yes, I see you do not know exactly
what to make of me— and you are not with-
out yom* apprehensions. I can perceive
that, though you try to conceal them.— But
never mind. I am a safe person to sit near
—sometimes. I am to-day. This is one of
my lucid intervals. I'm much better, thanks
to my keeper. There he is, on the other side
of the table —the tall man in black,' (point-
ing out Mr. Bennet,) 'a highly respectable
kind of person. I came with him here for
cliange of air. How do you think I look at
present P '—Caroline could not answer him
for laughing.—* Nay,* siud he, ' it is cruel to
laugh on such a subject. It is very hard
that you should do that, and misrepresent
my meaning too.*— 'Well then,* said Caro-
line, resuming a respectable portion of gra-
vity, * that I may not be guilty of that again,
what accomplishments do you allow to be
tolerable P*-^' Let me see,* sud he, with a

G 4

s%

GRANBT.

look of consideration; 'yon may play a
'wallz with one hand, and dance as little as
you think convenient. You may draw cari-
catures of your intimate friends. You may
not sing a note of Rossini ; nor sketch gate-
posts and donkeys after nature. You may
sit to a harp, but you need not play it. You
must not paint miniatures nor copy Swiss
costumes. But you may manufacture any-
thing—from a cap down to ft pair of shoes
— always remembering that the less useful
your work the better. Can you remember
all this?*— '1 do not know,' said she, 'it
comprehends so much; and I am rather
puzzled between the "mays" and "must
nets." However, it seems, according to your
code, that very little is to be required of
-me; for you have not mentioned anything
that I positively must do.*— *Ah, well, I can
reduce all to a veiy small compass. You
must be an archeress in the summer, and a
skater in the winter, and play well at billi-
ards all the year; and if you do these ex-
tremely well, my admiration will have no
bounds.*—' I believe I must forfeit all claim
to your admiration then, for unfortunately
I am not so giffced.* — 'Then you must place
it to the account of your other gifts.*—
* Certainly— when it comes.*—* Oh I it is
sure to come, as you well know : but, never-
theless, 1 like that incredulous look ex-
tremely.*— He then turned away, thinking
probably that he had paid her the compli-
ment of sufficient attention, and began a
conversation with the Duchess, which was
carried on in such a well-regulated under*
tone, as to be perfectly inaudible to any but
themselves.**— (pp. 92—99.)

The bustling importance of Sir
ThomaB Jermyn, the fat Duke, and
his right-hand man the blunt toad-
eater, Mr. Charlecote, a loud noisy
t-portsman, and Lady Jermyn's worldly
prudence, are all displayed and man-
aged with considerable skill and great
l^ower of amusing. One little sin
against good taste our author some-
times commits — an error from which
Sir Walter Scott is not exempt. We
mean the humour of giving character-
istic names to persons and places ; for
instance, Sir Thomas Jermyn is Mem-
ber of Parliament for the town of
Rottcnborough. This very easy and
appellative jocularity seems to us, we
confess, to savour a little of vulgarity;
and is therefore quite as unworthy of
Mr. Lister, as Dr. Dryasdust is of Sir
Walter Scott. The plainest names
which can be found (Smith, Thomson,

Johnson, and Simson, always excepted),
are the best for novels. Lord Chester-
ton we have often met with ; and suf-
fered a good deal from his Lordship :
a heavy, pompous, meddling peer,
occupying a great share of the con-
versation — saying things in ten words
which required only two, and evidently
convinced that he is making a great
impression ; a large man, with a large
head, and very lauded nianner; know-
ing enough to torment his fellow-
creatures, not to instruct them — the
ridicnle of young ladies, and tlie
natural bntt and target of wit. It
is easy to talk of carnivorous animals
and beasts of prey ; but does such a
man, who lays waste a whole party
of civilised beings by prosing, reflect
npon the joys he spoils, and the misery
he creates in the course of his life ? *
and that any one who listens to him
through politeness, would prefer tooth-
ache or earache to his conversation ?
Does he consider the extreme uneasi-
ness which ensues, when the company
have discovered a man to be an ex-
tremely absurd person, at the same
time that it is absolutely impossible to
convey, by words or manner, the most
distant suspicion of the discovery ?
And then, who punishes this bore ?
What sessions and what assizes for
him ? What bill is found against
him ? Who indicts him ? When the
judges have gone their vernal and
antumnal rounds — the sheep-stealer
disappears — the swindler gets ready
for the Bay — the solid parts of the
murderer are preserved in anatomical
collections. But, after twenty years
of crime, the bore is •discoVered in the
same house, in the same attitude, eat-
ing the same soup — unpunished, un-
tried, undissected — no scaffold, no
skeleton — no mob of gentlemen and
ladies to gape over his last dying speech
and confession.

The scene of quizzing the country
neighbours is well imagined, and not
ill executed ; though there are many
more fortunate passages in the book.
The elderly widows of the metropolis
beg, through us, to return their thanks
to Mr. Lister for the following agree-
able portrait of Mrs. Dormer.

GRANBT.

8d

** It would be difficult to find a more pleas-
ing example than Mrs. Dormer, of that much
libelled class of elderly ladies of the world,
who are presumed to be happy only at the
card table; to grow iu bitterness as th^y
advance in years, and to haunt, like restless
ghosts, those busy circles which they no
longer either enliven or adorn. Such there
may be ; but of these she was not oue. She
was the frequenter of society, but not its
slave. She had great natural benevolence
of disposition ; a friendly vivacity of man-
ners, which endeared her to the young, and
a steady good sense, which commanded the
respect of her contemporaries ; and many,
who did not agree with her on particular
points, were willing to allow that there was
a good deal of reason in Mrs. Dormer's pre-
jvdices. She was, perhaps, a little blind to
the faults of her friends ; a defect of which
the world could not cure her ; but she was
very kind to their virtues. She was fond of
youi^ people, and had an unimpaired gaiety
about her, which seemed to exi)8nd in the
contact with them ; and she was anxious to
promote, for their sake, even those amuse-
ments for which she had lost all taste her-
self. She was — but after all, she will be
best described by n^atives. She was not a
match-maker, or mischief-maker; nor did
«he plume herself upon her charity, in im-
plicitly believing only just half of what the
vorld says. She was no retailer of scanda-
lous ' an dUs* She did not combat wrinkles
with rouge ; nor did she labour to render
years less respected by a miserable affecta-
tion of girlish fashions. She did not stickle
for the inviolable exclusiveness of certain
sects; nor was she aftaid of being known
to visit a friend in an unfashionable quarter
of the town. She was no worshipper of
mere rank. She did not patronise oddities;
nor sanction those who delight in braving
the rules of common decency. She did not
evince her sense of propriety, by shaking
lumds with the recent defendant in aCrim.
(^on. cause ;^ nor exhale her devotion in
Sonday routs."-~(pp. 248, 244.)

Mrs. Clot worthy, we are afraid, will
not be quite so well pleased with the
description of her rout. Mrs. Clot-
worthy is one of those ladies who have
ices, fiddlers, and fine rooms, but no
fine friends. But fine friends may
always be had, where there are ices,
fiddlers, and fine rooms : and so, with
ten or a dozen stars and an Oonalaska
chief, and followed by all vicious and
salient London, Mrs. Clotwortby takes
the field.

"The poor woman seemed half dead with
fatigue alreftdy ; and we cuinot venture to
say whether the prospect of five hours
more of this high-wrought enjoyment tend-
ed much to brace her to the task. It was a
brilliant sight, and an interesting one, if it
could have been viewed firom some fair van-
tage ground, with ample space, in coolness
and in quiet. Eank, beauty, and splendour,
were richly blended; The gay attire; the
glittering jewels; the more resplendent
features they adorned, and too frequently
the rouged cheek of the sexagenarian : the
vigilant chaperon; the f^ but hmguid
form which she conducted; weU curled
heads, well propped with starch; well
whiskered guardsmen I and here and there
fat good-humoured elderly gentlemen, with
stars upon their coats ;— all these united in
one close medley— a curious piece of living
mosaic. Most of them came to see and be
seen; some of the most youthfid professedly
to dance ; yet how could they ? at any rate
they tried.— They stood, if they could, with
their vis-Arvis facing them,— and sidled
across— and back again and made one step,
— or two if there was room, to the right or
left, and joined hands and set— perhaps,
and turned their partners, or dispensed
with it if necessary— and so on to the end
of ' La Finale ;' and then comes a waltz for
the few who choose it— and then another
squeezy quadrille— and so on— and on, till
the weary many 'leave ample room and
verge enough* for the persevering few to
figure in with greater freedom.

"But then they talk; oh! ay I true we
must not forget the charms of conversation.
And what passes between nine-tenths of
them I Bemarks on the heat of the room ;
the state of the crowd; the impossibility of
dancing, and the propriety nevertheless of
attempting it ; that on last Wednesday was
a bad Almack's, and on Thursday a worse
Opera; that the new ballet is supposed to
be good; mutual inquiries how they like
Pasta, or Catalan!, or whoever the syren of
the day may be ; whether they have been
at Lady A.'s, and whether they are going to
Mrs. B.'s ; whether they think Miss Such-a-
one handsome; and what is the name of
the gentleman talking to her; whether
Bossini's music makes the best quadrilles,
and whether GoUinet's band are the best to
play them. There are many who pay in
better coin ; but the small change is much
of this description."— (Vol. L pp. 249—261.)

We consider the following descrip-
tion of London, as.it appears to a
person walking home after a rout, at
four or five o'clock in the morning, to
be as poetical as anything written on

do

GBANBT.

the forests of Guiana, or the falls of
Niagara: —

"Granby followed them with bis eyes;
and now, too fall of happiness to be acces-
sible to any feelings of jealousy or repining,
after a short reverie of the purest 8a4;isfac-
tion, he left the ball, and sallied out into
the fresh cool air of a summer morning —
suddenly passing from the red glare of lamp-
light, to the clear sober brightness of return-
ing day. He walked cheerfully onward, re-
freshed and exhilarated by the air of morn-
ing, and interested with the scene around
him. It was broad day-light, and he view-
ed the tdwn under an aspect in which it is
alike presented to the late retiring votary
of pleasure, and to the early rising sons of
business. He stopped on the pavement ot
Oxford Street, to contemplate the effect.
The whole extent of that long vista, un-
clouded by the mid-day smoke, was dis-
tinctly visible to his eye at once. The
houses shrunk to half their span, while the
few visible spires of the adjacent churches
seemed to rise less distant than before,
gaily tipped with early sunshine, and much
diminished in apparent size, but heightened
in distinctness and in beauty. Had it not
been for the cool grey tint which slightly
mingled with every object, the brightness
was almost that of noon. But the life, the
bustle, the busy din, the flowing tide of
human existence, were all wanting to com-
plete the similitude. All was hushed and
silent ; and this mighty receptacle of human
beings, which a few short hours would wake
into active energy and motion, seemed like
a city of the dead.

*' There was little to break this solemn
illusion. Around were the monuments of
human exertion, but the hands which form-
ed them were no longer there. Few, if any,
were the symptoms of life. No sounds
were heard but the heavy creaking of a
solitary waggon ; the twittering of an occa-
sional sparrow; the monotonous tone of
the drowsy watchman; and the distant
rattle of the retiring carriage, fading on
the ear till it melted into silence; and -the
eye that searched for living objects fell on
nothing but the grim great-coated guardian
of the night, muffled up into an appearance
of doubtfid character between bear and
man, and scarcely distinguishable, by the
colour of his dress, from the brown flags
along which he sauntered."— (pp. 297—299.)

One of the most prominent charac-
ters of the book, and the best drawn,
is that of Tyrrel, son of Lord Malton,
a noble blackleg, a titled gamester, and
a profound plotting villain — a man,

in comparison of whom nine-tenths of
the persons hung in Newgate are pure
and perfect The profound dissimu-
lation and wicked artifices of this
diabolical person are painted with
great energy and power of description.
The party at whist made to take in
Granby is very good, and that part
of the story where Granby compels
Tyrrel to refnnd what he has won of
Courtcnay is of first-rate dramatic ex-
cellence; and if any one wishes for a
short and convincing proof of the
powers of the writer of this novel —
to that scene we refer him. It shall
be the taster of the cheese, and we are
.convinced it will sell the whole article.
We.are so much struck with it that we
advise the author to consider seriously
whether he could not write a good play.
It is many years since a good play has
been written. It is about time, judg^
ing from the common economy of
nature, that a good dramatic writer
should appear. We promise Mr. Lister
sincerely, that the Edinburgh Review
shall rapidly undeceive him if he mis-
take his talents : and that his delusion
shall not last beyond the first tragedy
or comedy.

The picture at the exhibition is ex-
tremely well managed, and all the
various love-tricks of attempting to
appear indifferent, are, as well as we
can remember, from the life. But
it is thirty or forty years since we
have been in love.

The horror of an affectionate and
dexterous mamma is a handsome young
man without money ; and the follow-
ing lecture deserves to be committed
to memory by all managing mothers,
and repeated at proper intervals to the
female progeny.

" * True, my love, but understand me. I
don't wish you positively to avoid him. I
would hot go away, for instance, if I saw
him coming, or even turn my hecid that I
might not see him as he passed. That
would be too broad and marked. People
might notice it. It would look particular^
We should never do anything that looks
particiUar. No, I would answer him
civilly and composedly whenever he spoke
to me, and then 'j^ubs on, just as you might
in the case of anybody else. But I leave all
this to your own tact and discretion, of

GBANBT.

91

which nohody hasiCGfre for her age. I am
sure you can enter into all these niceties,
and that my observations will not be lost
upon you. And now, my love, let me men-
tion another thing. Yoa must get over
that little embarrassment which I see you
show whenever you meet him. It was very
natural and excusable the first time, con-
sidering our long acquaintance with him
and the General : but we must make our
conduct conform to circumstances ; so try
to get the better of this Ijttle flutter: it
does not look well, and might be observed.
There is no quality more valuable in a
young person than self-possession. So you
must keep down these blushes,' said she,
patting her on the cheek, 'or 1 believe I
must rouge you: — though it would be a
thousand pities, with the pretty natural
colour you have. But you must remember
what I have been saying. Be more com-
posed in your behaviour. Try to adopt the
manner which I do. It may be difficult ;
but you see I contrive it, and I have known
Mr. Granby a great deal longer than you
have, Caroline.' * '— (pp. 21, 22.)

These principles are of the highest
practical importance in an age when
the art of marrying daughters is
carried to the highest piteh of excel-
lence, when lovd must be made to the
young men of fortune, not only by the
young lady, who must appear to be
dying for him, but by the father,
mother, aunts, cousins, tutor, game-
keeper, and stable boy — assisted by
the parson of the parish, and the
churchwardens. If any of these fail.
Dives pouts, and the match is off.

The merit of this writer is, that he
catches delicate portraits which a less
skilful artist would pass over, from
not thinking: the features sufficiently
marked. We are struck, however,
with the resemblance, and are pleased
with the conquest of difficulties — we
remember to have seen such faces,
and are sensible that they form an
agreeable variety to the expression of
more marked and decided character.
Nobody, for instance, can deny that he
is acquainted with Miss Darrell.

"HIh Barrell was not strictly a beauty.
She had not, as was frequently observed by
her female friends, and unwillingly ad-
mitted by her male admirers, a single truly
Rood feature in her face. But who could
quarrel with the tout ensemble? who but
must be dazzled with the graceful animar

tion with which those features wete lighted
up P Let critics hesitate to pronounce her
beautiftil ; at any rate they must allow her
to be fSAScinating. Place her a perfect
stranger in a crowded assembly, and she
would first attract his eye ; correcter beau-
ties would pass unnoticed, and his first
attention would be riveted by her. She
was all brilliancy and eflSect ; but it were
hard to say she studied it ; so little did her
spontaneous, airy graces convey the im-
pression of premeditated practice. She
was a sparkling tissue of little affectations,
which, however, appeared so interwoven
with herself, that their seeming artlessness
disarmed one's censure. Strip them away,
and you destroyed at once the brilliant
being that so much attracted you ; and it
thus became difficult to condemn what you
felt unable, and, indeed, unwilling, to re-
move. Tfith positive affectation, malevo-
lence itself could rarely charge her; and
prudish censure seldom exceeded the
guarded limits of a diy remark, that Miss
Darrell had 'a good deal of mamier.'

** £clat she sought, and gained. Indeed,
she was both formed to gain it, and dis-
posed to desire it. But she required an
extensive sphere. A ball-rnom was her true
arena: for she waltzed *a raoir* and could
talk enchantingly about nothing. She wan
devoted to fashion, and all its ficklenesses,
and went to the extreme whenever she
could do so consistently with grace. But
she aspired to be a leader as well as a fol-
lower ; seldom, if ever, adopted a mode that
was unbecoming to herself, and dressed to
suit the genius of her face."— (pp. 28, 29.)

Tremendous is the power of a no-
velist ! If four or five men are in a
room, and show a disposition to break
the peace, no human magistrate (not
even Mr. Justice Bayley) could do more
than bind them over to keep the peace,
and commit them if they refused. But
the writer of the novel stands with a
pen in his hand, and can run any of
them through the body — can knock
down any one individual, and keep
the others upon their legs ; or, like the
last scene in the first tragedy written
by a young man of genius, can put
them all to death. Now, an author
possessing such extraordinary privi-
leges, should not have allowed Mr.
Tyrrel to strike Granby. This is ill
managed ; particularly as Granby does
not return the blow, or turn him out
of the house. Nobody should suffer
his hero to have a black eye, or Ui be

92

pnlled by the nose. The Iliad would
never have come down to these times
if Agamemnon had f^Wen Achilles a
box on the ear. We should have
trembled for the JEneid if any Tyrian
nobleman had kicked the pious ^neas,
in the 4th book, ^neas may have
deserved it; but he could not have
founded the Roman Empire after so
distressing an accident

HAMFLTON'S METHOD OF

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

(E. Review, 1826.)

1. The Oospel qfSt. Johnt in Latin, tuU^fOed
to the HamUUmian System, by an Analy-
tical and Jnterlineary Translation. Ex-
ecuted under the immediate Direction of
James Hamilton. London. 1824

2. The Oospel qf St John, adapted to the
Jlamiltonian System, by an Analytical
and Interlineary Translation from the
Italian, with fuU Instructions for its
use, even by those who are wholly igno-
rant cf the Language, For the Use of
Schools. By James Hamilton, Author of
the Hamiltonian System. London. 1825.

We have nothing whatever to do with
Mr. Hamilton personally. He may be
the wisest or the weakest of men ;
most dexterous or most unsuccessful in
the exhibition of his system $ modest
and proper, or prurient and prepos-
terous in its commendation ; — by none
of these considerations is his system
itself affected.

The proprietor of Ching*s Lozenges
must necessarily have recourse to a
newspaper to rescue from oblivion the
merit of his vermifuge medicines. In
the same manner, the Amboyna tooth-
powder must depend upon the Herald
and the Morning Post Unfortunately,
the system of Mr. Hamilton has been
introduced, to the world by the same
means, and has exposed itself to those
Fuspicions which hover over splendid
discoveries' of genius detailed in the
daily papers, and sold in sealed boxes
at an infinite diversity of prices — but
with a perpetual inclusion of the
stamp, and with an equitable discount
for undelayed payment.

It may have been necessary for Mr.

HAMILTON'S METHOD OF

Hamilton to have had recourse to
these means of making known his dis-
coveries ; since he may not have had
friends whose names and authority
miglit have attracted the notice of the
public ) but it is a misfortune to
which ^is system has been subjected,
and a difficulty which it has still to
overcome. There is also a singular
and somewhat ludicrous condition of
giving warranted lessons; by which is
^meant, we presume, that the money is
to be returned if the progress is not
made. We should be curious to know
how poor Mr. Hamilton would protect
himself from some swindling scholars,
who, having really learnt all that the
master professed to teach, should coun-
terfeit the grossest ignorance of the
Gospel of St. John, and refuse to
construe a single verse, or to pay a
farthing.

Whether Mr. Hamilton's translations
are good or bad is not the question.
The point to determine is, whether
very close interlineal translations are
helps in learning a language ? not
whether Mr. Hamilton has executed
these translations faithfully and judi-
ciously. Whether Mr. Hamilton is or
is not the inventor of the system
which bears his name, and what his
claims to originality may be, are also
questions of very second-rate import-
ance ; but they merit a few obser-
vations. That man is not the disco •
verer of any art who first says the
thing ; but he who says it so long,
and so loud, and so clearly, that he
compels mankind to hear him — the
man who is so deeply impressed with
the importance of the discovery, that
he will take no denial : but, at the
risk of fortune and fame, pushes
through all opposition, and is deter-
mined that what he thinks he has
discovered shall not perish for want
of a fair trial. Other persons had
noticed the effect of coal gas in pro-
ducing light ; but Winsor worried the
town with bad English for three win-
ters before he could attract any serious
attention to his views. Many persons
broke stone before Macadam ; but
Macadam felt the discovery more
strongly, stated it more clearly, per-

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

severed in it with greater tenacity, —
wielded his hammer, in short, with
greater force then other men, and
finally succeeded in bringing his plan
into general use.

Literal translations are not only not
used m our public schools, but are ge-
nerally discountenanced in them. A
literal translation, or any translation
of a school-boot;, is a contraband
article in English schools, which a
schoolmaster would instantly seize, as
a Custom-house officer would a barrel
of gin. Mr. Hamilton, on the other
hand, maintains, by books and lectures,
that all boys ought to be allowed to
work with literal translations, and that
it is by far the best method of learning
a language. If Mr. Hamilton's system
is just, it is sad trifling to deny his
claim to originality, by stating that
Mr. Locke has said the same thing, or
that others have said the same thing,
a century earlier than Hamilton.
They have all said it so feebly, that
their observations have passed sub
silentio ; and if Mr. Hamilton succeeds
in being heard and followed, to him
be the glory — because from hinj
have proceeded the utility and the
advantage.

The works upon this subject on this
plan published before the time of Mr.
Hamilton are, Montanus's edition of
the Bible, with Pignini's interlineary
Latm version ; Lubin's New Testa-
ment, having the Greek interlined with
lAtin and German ; Abbe L*01ivet's
Pensees de Ciceron; and a French
work by the Abbe Radonvilliers, Paris,
1768 — and Locke upon Education.

One of the first principles of Mr.
Hamilton is, to introduce very strict
literal interlinear translations, as aids
to lexicons and dictionaries, and to
make so much use of them as that the
dictionary or lexicon will be for a long
time little required. We will suppose
the language to be the Italian, and the
hook selected to be the Gospel of St.
John. Of this Gospel Mr. Hamilton
has published a key, of which the
following is an extract: —

nj^Nel prindpio era il Verbo, e
Xn the beginning was the Word, atid

93

11 Verbo era appresso Die, e il Verbo
the Word ioae near to God, and the Word
era Die.
ioas Ood,
««2. Qucal^o era nel principio appresso
Thit ioas in the beginning near to
Dio.
God,
€t^ Per mezzo di lui tutte le cose Airon
* By means qfhim all the things were
fatte; e senza di lui nulla fU fatto
made: and without of himnothingwasmado
di ciO, che b stata fiitto.
qfthat, of which is been made.
<f^ la lui era la vita^ e la vita
In him was the life, and the life
era la luce d^li«omini:
was the light cf the men :
Mg^ E la luoesplende tra le tene-
' And the light shines among the dark-
bre, e le tenebre hanno non ammessa
nesSt and tJte darknesses Jmvs not admitted
la.
Tier,
t*Q^ Vi fti un uomo mandate da Dio
There was a man sent by God
che nomava si Giovanni
wJia did name himself John.
*.y^ Questi venne qual testimone, affin
This came like as witness in order
di rendere testimonianza alia luce, onde
of to render testimony to the light, whence
per mezzo di lui tutti credessero."
by mean qfhim all might believe,**

In this way Mr, Hamilton contends
(and appears to us to contend justly),
that the language may be acquired
with much greater ease and despatch
than by the ancient method of begin-
ning with grammar and proceeding
with the dictionary. We will presume,
at present, that the only object is to
read, not to write or speak, Italian ;
and that the pupil instructs himself
from the Key, without a master, and is
not taught in a class. We wish to
compare the plan of finding the Eng-
lish word in such a literal translation to
that of finding it in dictionaries — and
the method of ending with grammar,
or of taking the grammar at an
advanced period of knowledge in the
language, rather than at the beginning.
Every one will admit that ofall the dis-
gusting labours of life, the labour of
lexicon and dictionary is the most
intolerable. Nor is there a greater ob-
ject of compassion than a fine boy, full
of animal spirits, set down in a bright

94

HAMILTON'S METHOD OP

gunny day, with a heap of unknown
words before him to be turned into
English, before supper, by the help of
a ponderous dictionary alone. The
object in -looking into a dictionary can
only be to exchange an unknown
sound for one that is known. Now it
seems indisputable, that the sooner this
exchange is made the better. The
greater the number of such exchanges
which can be made in a given time,
the greater is the progress, the more
abundant the copia verborum obtained
by the scholar. Would it not be of
advantage if the diotionary at once
opened at the required page, and if a
self-moving index at once pointed to
the requisite word ? Is any advantage
gained to the world by the time em-
ployed first in finding the letter P, and
then in finding the three guiding let-
ters FBI? This appears to ns to be
pure loss of time, justifiable only if it
be inevitable : and even after this is
done, what an infinite multitude of
difficulties are heaped at once upon the
wretched beginner ! Instead of being
reserved for his greater skill and matu-
rity in the language, he must employ
himself in discovering in which of many
senses which his dictionary presents
the word is to be used ; in consider-
ing the case of the substantive, and
the syntaxical arrangement in which
it is to be placed, and the relation it
bears to other words. The loss of time
in the merely mechanical part of the
old plan is immense. We doubt very
much, if an average boy, between ten
and fourteen, will look out or find more
than sixty words in an hour ; we say
nothing, at present, of the time em*
ployed in thinking of the meaning of
each word when he has found it, but
of the mere naked discovery of the
word in the lexicon or dictionary. It
must be remembered, we say an
average boy — not what Master Evans,
the show-boy, can do ; nor what
Master Macarthy, the boy who is
whipt every day can do ; but some boy
between Macsuthy and Evans : and
not what this medium boy can do
while his mastigophorous superior is
frowning oyer him, but what he ac-
tually does when left in the midst of

noisy boys, and with a recollAtion that
by sending to the neighbouring shop,
he can obtain any quantity of unripe
gooseberries upon credit. Now, if this
statement be true, and if there are
10,000 words in the Gospel of St. John,
here are 160 hours employed in the
mere digital process of turning over
leaves ! But in much less time than
this, any boy of average quickness
might learn, by the Hamiltonian
method, to construe the whole four
Gospels, with the greatest accuracy
and the most scrupulous correctness.
The interlineal translation, of course,
spares the trouble and time of this me-
chanical labour. Immediately under
the Italito word is placed the English
word. The unknown sound therefore
is instantly exchanged for one that is
known. The labour here spared is of
the most irksome nature, and it is
spared at a time of life the most averse
to such labour ; and so painful is this
labour to many boys, that it forms an
insuperable obstacle to their progress:
they prefer to be flogged, or to be sent
to sea. It is useless to say of any
medicine that it is valuable, if it is so
nauseous that the patient flings it
away. You must give me, not the
best medicine you have in your shop,
but the best you can get me to take.

We have hitherto been occupied
with finding the word ; we will now
suppose, after running a dirty finger
down many columns, and after many
sighs and groans, that the word is
found. We presume the little fellow
working in the true orthodox manner,
without any translation : he is in pur-
suit of the Greek word BoAAv, and
after a long chase, seizes it, as greedily
as a bailiff possesses himself of a fuga-
cious captain. But, alas I the vanity of
human wishes ! —the neyer-sufficiently-
to-be-pitied stripling has scarcely con-
gratulated himself upon his success,
when he finds BoAAo) to contain the
following meanings in Hederick's
Lexicon : — 1. Jacio ; 2. Jaculor ; 3.
Ferio ; 4. Figo ; 5. Saucio ; 6. At-
tingo ; 7. Projicio ; 8. Emit-to ; 9.
Prof undo ; 10. Pono ; 11. Immitto ;
12. Trado; 13. Committo ; 14. Condo ;
15. .^difico ; 16. Veiso ; 17. Electa

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

95

Suppose the little rogue, not quite at
home in the Latin tongue, to be desi-
roos of affixing English significations
to these yarious words, he has then,
at the moderate rate of six meanings
to eveiy Latin word, one hundred and
two meanings to the word BaAAw ! or,
if he is content with the Latin, he has
then only seventeen.*

Words, in their origin, have a na-
tural or primary sense. The acci-
dental associations of the people who
use it, afterwards give to that word a
great number of secondary meanings.
In some words the primary meaning
is very common, and the secondary
meaning very rare. In other instances
it is just the reverse ; and in very
many the particular secondary mean-
ing is ppinted out by some proposition
which accompanies it, or some case by
which it is accompanied. Bat an ac-
curate translation points these things
oat gradually as its proceeds. The
common and most probable meanings
of the word BizXAw, or of any other
yord, are, in the Hamiltonian method,
insensibly but surely fixed on the
mind, which, by the lexicon method,
must be done by a tentative process,
frequently ending in gross error, no-
ticed with peevishness, punished with
severity, consuming a great deal of
time, and for the most part only cor-
rected, after all, by the accurate viud voce
translation of the master — or, in other
words, by the Hamiltonian method.

The recurrence to a translation is
treated in our schools as a species of
imbecilitj and meanness ; just as if
there was any other dignity here than
utility, any other object in learning

* In addition to the other needless diffi-
culties and miseries entailed upon children
vho are learning languages, their Greek
lexicons give a lAtin instead of an English
translation ; and a boy of twelve or thirteen
years of age, whose attainments in Latin
ue of course but moderate, is expected to
make it the vehicle of knowledge for other
languages. This is setting the short-sighted
and Uearneyed to lead the blind ; and is one
of those afflicting pieces of absurdity which
escape animadversion, because they are,
Jpd have long been, of daily occurrence.
Mr. Jones has published an English and
Greek Lexieon, which we recommend to
tne notice of all persons engaged in educa-
tion, and not aacramented against all im-
i>rovementi

languages, than to turn something yoa
do not understand, into something yoa
do understand, and as if that was not
the best method which effected this ob-
ject in the shortest and simplest manner.
Hear upon this point the judicious
Locke : — " But if such e man cannot be
got, who speaks good Latin, and being
able to instruct your son in all these
parts of knowledge, will undertake it
by this method ; the next best is to
have him taught as near this way as
may be^which is by taking some easy
and pleasant book, such as .^sop's
Fables, and writing the English trans-
lation (made as literal as it can be) in
one line, and the Latin words which
answer each of them just over it in
another. These let him read every day
over and over again, till he perfectly un-
derstands the Latin ; and then go on
to another fable, till he be also perfect
in that, not omitting what he is already
perfect in, but sometimes reviewing
that, to keep it in his memory ; and
when, he comes to write, let thebe be
set him for copies, which, with the
exercise of his hand, will also advance
him in Latin. This being a more im-
perfect way than by talking Latin unto
him, the formation of the verbs first,
and afterwards the declensions of the
nouns and pronouns perfectly learned
by heart, may facilitate his acquaint-
ance with the genius and manner of
the Latin tongue, which varies the sig-
nification of verbs and nouns not as
the modern languages do, by particles
prefixed, but by changing the last
syllables. More than this of grammar
I think he need not have till he can
read himself * Sanctii Minerva* — with
Scioppius and Perigonius's notes." —
(^Locke on Educaiiortf p. 74. folio.)

Another recommendation which we
have not mentioned in the Hamiltonian
system is, that it can be combined, and
is constantly combined, with the sys-
tem of Lancaster.. The Key is pro-
bably suflScient for those who have no
access to classes and schools : but in ^
Hamiltonian school during the lesson,
it is not left to the option of the child
to trust to the Key alone. The mas-
ter stands in the middle, translates
accurately and literally the whole verse.

96

HAMILTON'S METHOD OF

and then ask tbe boys the English
of -separate words, or challenges them
to join the words together, as he has
done. A perpetual attention and acti-
vity is thus kept up. The master, or a
scholar (turned into a temporary Lan-
oasterian master), acts as a living lexi-
con ; and, if the thing is well done, as a
lively and animating lexicon. How is
it possible to compare this with the soli-
tary wretchedness of a poor lad of the
desk and lexicon, suffocated with the
nonsense of grammarians, overwhelmed
with every species of difficalty dispro-
portionate to his age, and driven by
despair to peg-top, or marbles ?

" Taking these principles as a basis, the
teacher forms his class of eiglU, ten, twenty,
or one hundred, — the number is of little
moment, it being as easy to teach a greater
as a smaller one, — and brings than at once
to the language itself, by reciting, with a
loud articulate voice, the first verse thus : —
In in, principio in b^inning, Verbum
Word, erat was, et and, Verbum Word, erat
was, apud at, J)euin God, et and, Verbum
Word, erat was, Deus God. Having recited
the verse once or twice himself, it is then
recited precisely in the same manner by
any person of the class whom he may judge
most capable; the person copying his man-
ner and intonations as much as possible. —
When the verse has been thus recited, by
six or eiffht persons of the class, the teacher
recites the 2nd verse in the same manner,
which is recited as the former by any mem-
bers of the class ; and thus continues mitil
he has recited trova ten to twelve verses,
which usually constitute the first lesson of
one hour. — In three lessons, the first Chap-
ter may be thus readily translated, the
teacher gradually diminishing the number
of repetitions of the same verse till the
fourth lesson, when each member of the
class translates his verse in turn ftt>m the
mouth of the teacher; from which period
ffty, sixty, or even seventy, verses may be
translated in the time of a lesson, or one
hour. At the seventh lesson, it is invariably
found that the class can translate without
the assistance of the teacher farther than
for occasional correction, and for those
words which they may not have met in the
preceding chapters. But, to accomplish
this, it is absolutely necessary that every
member of the class know every word of all
the preceding lessons : which is however an
easy task, the words being always taught
him in class, and the pupil besides being
able to refer to the key whenever he is at a
-loss— the key being translated in the very

words which the teacher has used in the
class, from which, as before remarked, he
must never deviate.— In ten lessons, it will
be found that the class can readily trans-
late the whole of the Gospel of St. John,
which is called the first section of the
course. — Should any delay, ftrom any cause,
prevent them, it is in my classes always for
account of teacher, who gives the extra
lesson or lessons always gratis.— It cannot
be too deeply impressed on the mind of the
pupil that a perfect knowledge qf every
word of his first section is most important
to the ease and comfort of his ftiture pro-
gress.— At the end of ten lessons, or first
section, the custom of my Establishments
is to give the pupil the Epitome HistoruB
Sacra, which is provided with a key in the
same manner.— It was first used in our
classes for the first and second sections ; we
now teach it in one section of ten lessons,
which we find easier than to teach it in two
sections before the pupil has read the Tes-
tament.— When he has read the Epitomo,
it will be then time to give him the theory
of the verbs and other words which change
their terminatioua-^He has abeady ac-
quired a good practical knowledge of these
things ; the theory becomes then very easy.
—A grammar containing the declensions
and conjugations, and printed specially for
my classes, is then put into the pupil's
hands (not to be got by heart,— nothing is
ever got by rote on this system), but that he
may comprehend more readily his teacher,
who lectures on grammar generally, but
especially on the verbs. From this time^
that is, fh>m the beginning of the third
section, the pupil studies the theory and
construction of the langiuge as well as its
practice. For this purpose he reads the
ancient authors, banning with Caesar,
which, together with the Selecta e Prqfanis,
fills usefully the third and fourth sections.
When these with the preceding books are
well known, the pupil will find little diffi-
culty in reading the authors usually read
in schools. The fifth and sixth sections
consist of Virgil and Horace, enough of
which is read to enable the pupil to read
them with facility, and to give him correct
ideas of Prosody and Versification. Five or
six months, with mutual attention on the
part of pupil and teacher, will be found
sufficient to acquire a knowledge of this
language, which hitherto has rar^y been
the result of as many years."

We have before said, that the Hamil-
tonian*8 system must not depend upon
Mr. Hamilton's method of carry^ing it
into execution ; for instance, he banishes
from his schools the effects of emu-

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

97

lation. The boys do not take each
other's places. This, we think, is a^
sad absurdity. A cook might as well
resolve to make bread without fermen-
tation, as a pedagogue to carf'y on a
school without emulation. It must be
a sad doughy lump without this vivi-
fying principle. Why are boys to be
shut out from a class of feelings to
which society owes so much, and upon
which their conduct in future life must
(if they are worth anything) be so
closely constructed ? Poet A writes
verses to outshine poet B. Philoso-
pher C sets up roasting Titanium, and
boiling Chroi^ium, that he may be
thought more of than philosopher D.
Mr. Jackson strives to ont-pain( Sir
Thomas ; Sir Thomas Lethbridge to
overspeak Mr. Canning ; and so so-
ciety gains good chemists, poets, paint-
ers, speakers, and orators ; and why aire
not boys to be emulous as well as
men?

If a boy were in Paris, would he
learn the language better by shutting
himself up to read French books with
a dictionary, or by conversing freely
with all whom he met ? and what
is conversation but an Hamiltonian
school? Every man you meet is a
living lexicon and grammar — who is
perpetually changing your English
into French, and perpetually instruct-
ing yon, in spite of yourself, in the
terminations of Erench substantives
and verbs. The analogy is still closer,
if you converse with persons of whom
you can ask questions, and who will
he at the trouble of correcting you.
What madness would it be to run away
from these pleasing facilities, as too
dangerously easy — to stop your ears,
to double-lock the door, and to look
out chickeits ; taking a walk ; and fine
vfeather, in Bayer's Dictionary — and
then by the help of Chambaud*s Gram-
mar, to construct a sentence which
should signify, ** Come to my house^
o»d eat some chickens, if it is fine I "
But there is in England almost a love
of difiBculty and needless labour. We
ve so resolute and industrious in
rauing up impediments which ought
to be overcome, that there is a sort of
SQspicion against the removal of these
YoL.IL

impediments, and a notion that the
advantage is not fairly come by with-
out the previous toil. If the English
were in a paradise of spontaneous
productions, they would continue to
dig and plough, though they were
never a peach nor a pine-apple the
better for it.

A principal point to attend to in the
Hamiltonian system, is the prodigious
number of words and phrases which
pass through the boy's mind, compared
with those which are presented to him
by the old plan. As a talkative boy
learns French sooner in France than a
silent boy, so a translator of books
learns sooner to construe, the more he
translates. An Hamiltonian makes, in
six or seven lessons, three or four
hundred times as many exchanges of
English for French or Latin, as a
grammar schoolboy can do ; and if he
lose 50 per cent, of all he hears, his
progress is still, beyond all possibility
of comparison, more rapid.

As for pronunciation of living lan-
guages, we see no reason why that
consideration should be introduced in
this place. We are decidedly of
opinion, that all living languages
are best learnt in the country where
they are spoken, or by living with
those who come from that country ;
but if that cannot be, Mr. Hamilton's
method is better than the grammar
and dictionary method. Cateris pari-
bus, Mr. Hamilton's method, as far as
French is concerned, would be better
in the hands of a Frenchman, and his
Italian method in the hands of an
Italian ; but all this has notliing to do
with the system.

" Have I read through Lilly ? — ^have
I learnt by heart that most atrocious
monument of absurdity, the West-
minster Grammar ? — have I been
whipt for the substantives ? — whipt
for the verbs ? — and whipt for and
with the interjections ? — have I picked
the sense slowly, and word by word,
out of Hederick ?V- And shall my son
Daniel be exempt from all this
misery ? — Shall a little unknown
peraon in Cecil Street, Strand, No. 25.,
pretend to tell me that all this is un-
necessary ? — Was it possible that I

H

98

HAMILTON'S METHOD OP

might have been spared all this? —
The whole system is nonsense, and the
man an impostor. If there had been
any truth in it, it must have occurred
to some one else before this period."-^
This is a very common style of obser-
vation upon Mr. Hamilton's system,
and by no means an nncommon wish
of the mouldering and decaying part
of mankird, that the next generation
should not enjoy any advantages from
which they themselves have been pre-
cluded. — '*Ay,ayfif8 ali mighty well
— but 1 went through this my self ^ and I
am determined my children shall do the
same." We are convinced that a great
deal of opposition to improvement
proceeds upon this principle. Crabbe
might make a good picture of an iin-
benevolent old man, slowly retiring
from this sublunary scene, and lament-
ing that the coming race of men
would be less bnmp^ Xm the roads,
better lighted in the streets, and less
tormented with grammars and lexicons,
•than in the preceding age. A great
deal of compliment to the wisdom of
ancestors, and a great degree of alarm
at the dreadful spirit of innovation, are
soluble into mere jealousy and envy.

But what is to become of a boy who
has no difficulties to grapple with?
How enervated will that understand-
ing be, to which everything is made
so clear, plain, and easy I — no hills to
walk up, no chasms to step over ;
everything graduated, soft, and smooth.
^ All this, however, is an objection to
the multiplication table, to Napier's
bones, and to every invention for the
abridgment of human labour. There
is no dread of any lack of difficulties.
Abridge intellectual labour by any
process yon please -^ multiply mecha-
nical powers to any extent — ihere will
be sufficient, and infinitely more than
sufficient, of laborious occupation for
the mind and body of man. Why is
the boy to be idle ? — By and by comes
the book without a key ; by and by
comes the lexicon, ^hey do come at
last — though at a better period. But
if they did not come — if they were use*
less, if language could be attained with«
out them -^ would any human being
wish to retain difficulties for their own

sake which led to nothing useful, and
by the annihilation of which our facul-
ties were left to be exercised by difficul-
ties which do lead to something useful
— by mathematics, natural philosophy,
and every branch of useful knowledge ?
Can any be so anserous as to suppose,
that the faculties of young men cannot
be exercised, and their industry and
activity called into proper action,
because Mr. Hamilton teaches, in three
or four years, what has (in a more
vicious system) demanded seven or
eight ? Besides, even in the Hamil-
tonian method it is very easy for one
boy to outstrip another. Why may not
a clever and ambitious boy employ
three hours upon his key by himself^
while another boy has only employed
one? There is plenty of corn to
thrash, and of chaff to be winnowed
away, in Mr. Hamilton's system ; the
difference is, that every blow tells,
because it is properly directed. In the
old way half their force was lost in air.
There is a mighty foolish apophthegm
of pr. Bell's*, that it is not what is
done for a boy that is of importance,
but what a boy does for himself. This
is just as wise as to say, that it i^
not the breeches which are made for a
boy that can cover bis nakedness, but
(he breeches he makes for himself.
All this entirely depends upon a com-
parison of the time saved, by showing
the boy how to do a thing, rather than
by leaving him to do it for himself.
Ltet the object be, for example, to make
a pair of shoes. The boy will effect
this object much better if you show
him how to make the shoes, than if you
merely give him wax, thread, and
leather, and leave him to find out all
the ingenious abridgments of labour
which have been discovered by expe-
rience. The object is to turn Latin
into English. The scholar will do it
much better and sooner if the word is
found for him, than if he finds it —
much better and sooner if you point
out the effect of the terminations, and
the nature of the syntax, than if you
leave him to detect them for himselt

* A very foolish old gentleman, seised on
eagerly bjthe Church of Englaud to defraud
Liuicaster of his disooveiy»

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

99

The thing » at last done hy t/te pupil
himself — for he reads the language —
which was the thing to be done. AH
the help he has received has only
enabled him to make a more economic
cal use of his time, and to gain his end
sooner. Never be afraid of wanting
difficulties for your pupil ; if means are
rendered more easy, more will be ex-
pected. The animal will be compelled
or induced to do all that he can do.
Macadam has made the roads better.
l)r. Bell would have predicted that the
horses would get loo fat : but the actual
result is, that they are compelled to go
ten miles an hour instead of eigbL

** For teaching children, this, too, I
think is to be observed, that, in most
cases, where they stick, they are not to
be farther puzzled, by putting them
upon finding it out themselves ; as by
asking sueh questions as these ; viz. —
which is the nominative case in the
sentence they are to construe ? or de>
manding what 'aofero' signifies, to
lead them to the knowledge what
^abfltnlere* signifies, &c., when they
cannot readily tell. This wastes time
only, in disturbing them ; for whilst
they are learning, and apply themselves
with attention, they are to be kept in
good humour, and everything made
easy to them, and as pleasant as
possible. Therefore, wherever they
are at a stand, and are willing to go
forwards, help them presently over
the difficulty, without any rebuke or
chiding ; remembering that^ where
harsher ways, are taken, they are the
effect only of pride and peevishness
in the teacher, who expects children
should instantly be masters of as much
S8 he knows; whereas he should rather
consider, that bis business is to settle
in them habits^ not angrily to inculcate
Tvles!"^(LocAe on Edueation, p. 74.)

' Suppose liie first five books of Hero-
dotus to be acquired by a key^ or literal
translation afi;er the method of Hamil-
ton, so that the pupil could construe
them with the greatest accuracy ; —
tve do not pretend, because the pupil
could construe this book, that he could
construe any other book equally easy;
we merely say, that the pupil has ac-
quired, by these means, a certain copia

verborum,taid a certain practical know-
ledge of grammar, which must materi-
ally diminish the difficulty of reading
the next book ; that his difficulties
diminish in a compound ratio with
every fresh book he reads with a key
— till at last he reads any common
book, without a key — and that he
attains this last point of perfection in a
time incomparably less, and with diffi-
culties incomparably smaller, than in
the old method.

There are a certain number of French
bookSy which when a boy can construe
accurately, he may be said, for all pur-
poses of reading, to be master of the
French language. No matter how he
has attained this power of construing
the books. If yon try him thoroughly,
and are persuaded he is perfectly
master of the books — then he posses-
ses the power in question — he under-
stands the language. Let these books,
for the sake of the question, be Teler
machus, the History of Louis XIV.
the Henriade, the Flays of Racine,
and the Revolutions of Vertot. We
would have Hamiltonian keys to all-
these books, and the Lancasterian
method of instruction. We believe
these books would be mastered in one
sixth part of the time, by these means,
that they would be by the old method,
of looking out the words in the diction-
ary, and then coming to say the lesson
to the master ; and we believe that
the boys, long before they came to the
end of this series of books, would be
able to do without their keys — to fling
away their cork jackets, and to swim
alone. But boys who learn a language
in four or five months, it is said, are
apt to forget it again. Why, then,
does not a young person, who has been
five or six months in Faris, forget his
French four or five years afterwards ?
It has been obtained without any of
that labour, which the objectors to tho
Hamiltonian system deem to be so
essential to memory. It has been
obtained in the midst of tea and bread
and butter, and yet is in a great mea-
sure retained for a whole life- In the^
same manner the pupils of this new
school use a colloquial living dictionary,^
and, from every principle of youthful

H 2

100 HAMILTON'S

emulation, contend with «ach other in :
catching the interpretation, and in
applying to the lesson before them.

•*lf you wish boys to remember any
language, make the acquisition of it
Tery tedious and disgusting." This
seems to be an odd rule ; but if it be
good for language, it must he good
also for every species of knowledge —
music, mathematics, navigation, archi-
tecture. In all these sciences aversion
should be the parent of memory —
impediment the canise of perfection.
If difficulty is the sauce of memory,
the boy who learns with the gre&test
difficulty will remember with the
greatest tenacity; — in other words,
the acquisitions of a dunce will be
greater and knore important than those
of a clever boy. Where is the love of
difficulty to end ? Why not leave a
boy to compose his own dictionary and
grammar ? It is not what is done for
a boy, but what he does for himself,
that is of any importance. Are there
difficulties enough in the old method
of acquiring languages ? Would it be
l>etter if the difficulties were doubled,
And thirty years g:iven to languages,
instead of fifteen ? All these argu-
ments presume the difficulty to be got
over, and then the memory to be im-
proved. But what if the difficulty is
shrunk from ? What if it put an end
to power instead of increasing it ; and
extinguish, instead of exciting, appli-
cation ? And when these effects are
produced, you not only preclude all'
hopes of learning, or language, but
you put an end for ever to adl literary
habits, and to all improvements from
study. The boy who is lexicon-struck
in early youth looks upon all books
afterwards with horror, and goes over
to the blockheads. Every boy would
be pleased with books, and pleased
with school, and be glad to forward
the views of his parents, and obtain
the praise of his master, if he found it
possible to make tolerably easy pro-
gress; but (he is driven to absolute
despair by gerunds, and wishes himself
dead ! Progress is pleasure->-activity
is pleasure. It is impossiUe for a boy
BOt to make progress, and not to be
active, in the Hamiltonian method ;

METHOD OF

and this pleasing state of mind we
contend to be more favourable to
memoiy, than the languid jaded spirit
which much commerce with lexicons
never fails to produce.

Translations are objected to in
schools justly enoagh, when they are
paraphrases and not translations. It
is impossible, irom a paraphrase ^ or
very loose translation, to make any
useful 'progress — they retard rather
than accelerate a knowledge of the
language to be i|cquired, and are the
principal causes' of the discredit into
which translations have been brought,
as instruments of education.

InliMidum B^fina jubes renovare dolorem,
Begina, jubes renovare dolorem infimdum.

Ohl Q^eeu^ thou orderett to renew gri^
not to be epokeni)/.

Oh 1 Queen, in pursuance of your com*
mands, I enter upon the narrative of mis-
fortunes almost too great for utterance.

The first of these translations leads
us directly to the explication of a
foreign language, as the latter insures
a perfect ignorance of it.

It is difficult enough to introduce
any useful novelty in education with-
out enhancing its perils by needless
and untenable paiadox. Mr. Hamilton
has made an assertion in his Preface
to the Key of the Italian Gospel, which
has no kind of foundation in fact, and
which has afforded a conspicuous mark
for the aim of his antagonists.

'* I have said that each word is translated
by its one sole imdeviating meaning, as-
suming as an incontrovertible principle in
all languages that, with very few exceptions,
each word has one meaning only, and can
usually be rendered correctly into another
by one word only, which one word should
serve for its repregentative at all times and
on all occasions.'*

Now, it is probable that each word
had one meaning only in its origin ;
but metaphor and association are so
busy with human speech, that the same
word comes to- sdrve in a vast variety
of senses, and continues to do so long
after the metaphors and associations
which called it into this state of activity
are buried in oblivion. Why may not
jttbeo be translated order as well as

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

101

i!<nnmand, or dphrem rendered grief as
well as sorrow? Mr. Hamilton has
expressed himself loosely ; but he
perhaps means no more than to say,
that in school translations, the meta-
physical meaning should never be
adopted, when the word can be ren-
dered by its primary signification.
We shall allow him, however, to detail
his own method of making the trans-
lation in qaestion.

"Translationa on the Hamiltonian sy9-
tern, according to which this book is trans-
lated, must not be confounded with trans-
lations made according to Locke, Clarke,
Sterling, or even according to Dumarsaifi,
Premont, and a number of other French-
men, who have made what have been and
are yet sometimes called literal and inter-
lineal translations. The latter are, indeed,
interlineal, but no literal translation had
ever appeared, in any language before thoSe
called Hamiltonian, that is, before my
Gospel of St. John from the French, the
Greek, and Ijatin Gospds published in
Ix>ndon, and L'Hommond*s Epitome of the
Historia Sacra. These and these only were
And are truly literal ; that is to say, that
every word is rendered in English by a
corresponding part of speech; that the
grammatical analysis of the phrase is never
departed firom ; that the case of every noun,
pronoun, acycctive, or particle, and the
mood, teniae, and parson of every verb, are
accurately pointed out by appropriate and
unchanging signs, so that a grammarian not
understanding one word of Italian, would,
on reading any part of the translation here
given, be instantly able to parse it. In the
translations above alluded to, an attempt is
made to preserve the correctness of the
language into which the different works
are translated, but the wish to conciliate
this correctness with a literal translation
has only produced a barbarous and uncouth
idiom, while it has in every case deceived
the unlearned pupil by a translation alto-
gether &lse and incorrect. Such transla-
tions may, indeed, give an idea of what is
contained In the book translated, but they
will not assist, or at least very little, in
enabling the pupil to mtike out the exact
meaning of each word, which is the prin-
cipal object of Hamiltonian translations.
The reader will understand this better by
an illustration : A gentleman has lately
given a translation of Juvenal according to
the plan of the above mentioned authors,
beginning with the words semper e^o, which
he joins and translates, * shall I always be '
•^ if his intention were to teach Latin

words, he might as well have said, 'shall I
always eat beef-steaks?' — True, there is
nothing about beef-steaks in semper ego,
but neither is there about ' shall be : * the
whole translation is on the same plan, that
ia to say, that there is not one line of it
correct,— ; I had almost said one word, on
which the -pupil can rely, as the exact
equivalent in English of the Latin word
above it.— Not so the translation here
given.

"As the object of the author has been
that the pupil should know every word as
well as he knows it himself, he has uni-
formly given it the one sole, precise, mean-
ing which it has in our language, sacrificing
everywhere the beauty, the idiom, and the
correctness of the English lai^uage to the
original, in order to show the perfect idiom,
phraseology, and picture of that original as
in a glass. So far is this carried, that where
the English language can express the pre-
cise meanii^ of the Italian phrase only by
a barbarism, this barbarism is employed
without scruple — - as thus : — ' e le tenebre
non rhanno ammessa.' — Here the word
ten^tre being plural, if you translate it
darkness, you not oaiy give a false transla-
tion of the word its^, which is used by
the Italians in the plural nimiber, but,
what is much more important, you lead the
pupil into an error about its government, it
being the nominative case to fuinno, which
is the third person plural ; it is theref(nre
translated not darkness but darknesses."

To make these keys perfect, we
rather think there shouild be a free
translation added to the literal one.
Not a paraphrase, but only so free as
to avoid any awkward or barbarous
expression. The comparison between
the free and the literal translation
would immediately show to young
people the peculiarities of the language
in which they were engaged.

Literal translation or key — Oh!
Queen, ihou orderest to renew grief not
to be spoken of

Free, — **0h ! Queen, thou orderest
me to renew my grief, too great for
utterance."

The want of this accompanying free
translation is not felt in keys of the
Scriptures, because, in fact, the Eng*
lish Bible is a free translation, great
part of which the scholar remembers.
But in a work entirely unknown, of
which a key was given, as full of awk*
ward -and barbarous expressions as a

H 3

IQS

HAMILTON'S METHOD OF

key certainly onght to be, a scholar
might be sometimes pazzled to arrive
at the real sense. We say as full of
awkward and barbarous expressions as
it ought to be« because we thoroughly
approve of Mr. Hamilton's plan, ot
always sacrificing English and ele-
gance to sense, when they cannot be
united in the key. We are r^cther sorry
Mr. Hamilton's first essay has been in
a translation of the Scriptures, be-
cause every child is so familiar with
them, that it may be difiicult to deter-
mine whether the apparent progress is
ancient recollection or recent attain-
ment ; and because the Scriptures are
so full of Hebraisms and Syriacisms,
and the language so different from that
of Greek authors, that it does not
secure a knowledge of the language
equivalent to the time employed upon it.
The keys hitherto published by Mr.
Hamilton are the Greek, Latin, French,
Italian, and German keys to the Gos-
pel of St. John, Perrin's Fables, Latin
Historia Sacra, Latin, French, and
Italian Grammar and Stndia Metrica.
One of the difficulties under which the
system is labouring, is a want of more
Keys. Some of the best Greek and
Koman classics should be immediately
published, with Keys, and by yery good
scholars. We shall now lay before
our readers an extract from one of
the public papers respecting the pro-
gress made in the Hamiltonian schools.

Extract from the Morning Chronicle qf
Wednesday, NovemberlQth, 1825.— **Haniil-
Umian System. — We yesterday were present
at an examination of cTight lada who have
been under Mr. Hamilton since some time
in the month of May last, with a view to
ascertain the efficacy of his system in com-
municating a knowledge of languages.
These eight lads, all of them between the
ages of twelve and fourteen, are the children
of poor people, who, when they were first
placed under l&r. Hamilton, possessed no
other instruction than common reading
and writing. They were obtained trom a
common country school, through the inter-
position of a Member of Parliament, who
takes an active part in promoting charity
schools throughout the country; and the
choice was determined by the consent of
the parents, and not by the cleverness of
the boys.

"Thi^y have been employed in learning

Latin, French, and latterly Italian; and
yesterday they were examined by several
distinguished individuals, among whom
we recognised John Smith, Esq. M.P. ;
G. Smith, Esq. M.P.; Mr. J. Mill, the
historiui of British India ; Major Camac ;
Major Thompson ; Mr. Cowell, Ac. &c
They first read different portions of the
Gospel of St. John in Latin, and Caesar's
Ck)mmentaries, selected hy the visitors.
The translation was executed with an
ease which it would be in vain to expect
in any of the Ix^ who attend our com-
mon schools, even in their third or fourth
year; and proved, that the principle
of exciting the attention of boys to the
utmost, during the process by which the
meaning of the words is fixed in their me-
mory, had given them a great familiarity
with so much of the language as is con-
tained in the books above alluded ta Their
knowledge of the parts of speech was re-
spectable, but not so remarkable ; as the
Hamiltonian system follows the natural
mode of acquiring language, and only em-
ploys the boys in analysing, when they have
already attained a certain familiarity with
any language.

'* The same experiments were repeated in
Prench and Italian with the same sucoeas,
and, upon the whole, we cannot but think
the success has been complete. It is im-
possible to conceive a more impartial mode
of putting any system to the test, than to
make such an experiment on the children
of our peasantry.'*

Into the truth of this statement we
have personally inquired, and it seems
to as to have fallen short of the facts
from the laudable fear of overstating
them. The lads selected for the ex-,
periment were parish boys of the most
ordinary description, reading English
worse than Cumberland curates, and
totally ignorant of the rudiments of
any other language. They were pur-
posely selected for the experiment by
a gentleman who defrayed its expense,
and who had the strongest desire to
put strictly to the test the efiicacy of
the Hamiltonian system. The experi-
ment was begun the middle of May,
1825, and concluded on the day of
November in the same year mentioned
in the extract, exactly six months
after. The Latin books set before
them were the Gospel of St. John,
and parts of Csssar's Commentaries.
Some Italian book or books (what we

TEACHING LANGUAGEa

103

know not), and a selection of French
histories. The visitors put the boys
on where they pleased, and the trans-
lation was (as the reporter says)
executed with an ease which it would
be Tain to expect in any of the boys
who attend our common schools, eveu
in their third or fourth year.*

From experiments and observations
which have fallen under our own
notice, we do not scruple to make the
following assertions. If there were
keys to the four Gospels, as there is to
that of St. John, any boy or girl of
thirteen years of age, and of moderate
capacity, studying four hours a day,
and beginning with an utter ignorance
even of the Greek character, would
learn to construe the four Gospels with
the most perfect and scrupulous accu-
racy in six weeks. Some children, utterly
ignorant of French or Italian, would
Icam to construe the four Gospels in
either of these languages in three
weeks ; the Latin in four weeks, the
German, in five weeks. We believe
they would do it in a class ; but, not
to ran any risks, we will presume a
master to attend upon one student
alone for these periods. We assign a
niaster principally because the appli-
cation of a solitary boy at that age
coald not be depended upon ; but if
the sedulity of the child were certain,
he would do it nearly as well alone.
A fpreater time is allowed for German
and Greek, on account of the novelty
of the character. A person of mature
habits, eager and energetic in his pur-
suits, and reading seven. or eight hours
per day, might, though utterly ignorant
of a letter of Greek, learn to construe
the four Gospels, with the most punc-
tilious accuracy, in three weeks, by
the Key alone. These assertions we
make, not of the Gospels alone, but of
any tolerably easy book of the same
extent We mean to be very accurate ;
hut suppose we are. wrong — add 10,
20, 30 per cent, to the time — an

* We have left with the bookseller the
names of two gentlemen who have verified
this account to us, and who were present
at the experiment. Their names will at
onoe put an end to all scepticism as to the
fact. Two more candid and enlightened
judges could not be fomid.

average boy of thirteen, in an averaj;e
school, cannot construe the four Gas-
pels in two years from the time of his
beginning the language.

All persons would be glad to read a
foreign language, but all persons do
not want the same scrupulous and
comprehensive knowledge of grammar
which a great Latin scholar possesses.
Many persons may, and do, derive
great pleasure and instruction from
French, German, and Italian books,
who can neither speak nor write these
languages — who know that certain
terminations, when they see them,
signify present or past time, but who,
if they wished to signify present or
past time, could not recall these ter-
minations. For many purposes and
objects, therefore, very little grammar
is wanting.

The Hamiltonian method begins
with what all persons want — a faci^
lity of construing, and leaves every
scholar to become afterwards as pro-
found in grammar as he (or those who
educate him) may choose ; whereas
the old method aims at making all
more profound grammarians than three
fourths wish to be, or than nineteen
twentieths can be. One of the enor-
mous follies of the enormously foolish
education in England is, that all young
men — dukes, foxhunters, and mer*-
chnnts — are educated as if they were
to keep a school, and serve a curacy ;
while scarcely an hour in the Hamil-
tonian education is lost for any variety
of life. A grocer may learn enough
of Latin to taste the sweets of Virgil \
a cavalry officer may read and under-
.stand Homer, without knowing that
trifxi comes from tu with a smooth
breathing, and that it is formed by an
improper reduplication* In the mean-
time, there is nothing in that education
which prevents a scholar from knowing
(if he wishes to know) what Greek com-
pounds draw back their accents. He
may trace verbs in ifu from polysyllables
in Im, or derive endless glory from mark-
ing down derivatives in wrw, changing
the c of their primitives into iota.

Thus, in the Hamiltonian method,
a good deal of grammar necessarily
impresses itself upon the mind (cAe*

ii 4

104

HAMILTON'S METHOD OlP

min fawmt)^ as it does in the verna-
cular tongue* without any rule at all,
and merely by habit. How is it pos-
sible to read many Latin Keys, for
instance, without remarking, willingly
or unwillingly, that the first persons of
verbs end in o, the second in «, the
third \u.t9 — that the same adjective
ends in us or a, accordingly as the
connected substantive is masculine or
feminine, and other such gross and
common rules? An Englishman who
means to say, / will go to London, does
not say, / could go to London, He
never read a word of grammar in his
life ; but he has learnt by habit, that
the word go signifies to proceed or set
forth, and by the same habit he learns
that future intentions are expressed by
/ will; and by the same habit the
Hamiltonian pupil, reading over and
comprehending twenty times more
words and phrases than the pupil of
the ancient system, insensibly but in-
fallibly fixes upon his mind many
rules of grammar* We are far from
meaning to say, that the grammar thus
acquired will be sufficiently accurate
for a first-rate Latin and Greek scholar ;
but there is no reason why a young
person arriving at this distinction, and
educated in the Hamiltonian system,
may not carry the study of grammar
to any degree of minuteness and ac-
curacy. The only difference is, that
he begins grammar as a study, after
he has made a considerable progress in
the language, and not before — • a very
important feature in the Hamiltonian
system, and a very great improvement
in the education of children.

The imperfections of the old system
proceed in a great measure from a
bad and improvident accumulation of
difficulties, which must all perhaps,
though in a ^ess degree, at one time or
another be encountered, but which
may be, and in the Hamiltonian
system are, much more wisely dis-
tributed. A boy who sits down to
Greek with lexicon and grammar, has
to master an unknown character of
an unknown language — to look out
words in a lexicon, in the use of which
he is inexpert — to guess, by many
trials, in which of the numerous senses

detailed in the lexicon he is to use
the word — to attend to the inflexions
of cases and tense — to become ac-
quainted with the syntax of the lan-
guage — and to become acquainted
with these inflexions and this syntax
from books written in foreign langu-
ages, and fuU of the most absurd and
barbarous terms, and this at the ten-
derest age, when the mind is utterly
unfit to grapple with any great diffi-
culty ; and the boy, who revolts at all
this folly and absurdity, is set down
for a donee, and must go into a march-
ing regiment, or on board a man of
war I The Hamiltonian pupil has his
word looked out for him, its proper
sense ascertained, the case of the sub-
stantive, the inflexions of the verb
pointed out, and the syntaxical ar-
rangement placed before his eyes.
Where, then, is he to encounter these
difficulties ? Does he hope to escape
them entirely ? Certainly not, if it
be his purpose to . become a great
scholar ; but he will enter upon them
when the character is familiar to his
eye — when a great number of Greek
words are familiar to his eye and ear
— when he has practically mastered a
great deal of grammar — when the
terminations of verbs convey to him
different modifications of time, the ter-
minations of substantives different
varieties of circumstance — when the
rules of grammar, In short, are a con-
firmation of previous observation, not
an irksome multitude of directions,
heaped up without any opportunity of
immediate application.

The real way of learning a dead
language, is to imitate, as much as
possible, the method in which a living
language is naturally learnt. When
do we ever find a well-educated Eng-
lishman or Frenchman embarrassed by
an ignorance of the granmiar of their
respective languages ? They first
learn it practically and unerringly ;
and then, if they choose to look back
and smile at the idea of having pro-
ceeded by a number of rules without
knowing one of them by heart, or
being conscious that they had any
rule at all, this is a philosophical
amusement : but who ever thinks of

TEACHING LANGUAGES.

105

•learning the grammar of their own
tongue before they are very good
^mmarians ? Let ns hear what Mr.
Locke says apon this subject : — "If
grammar onght to be taught at any
time, it must be to one that can speak
the language ah'eady; how else can
he be taught the grammar of it ?
This at least is evident, from the
practice of the wise and learned
nations amongst the ancients. They
made it a part of education to culti-
vate their own, not foreign languages.
The Greeks counted all other nations
barbarous, and had a contempt for
their languages. And though the Greek
learning grew in credit amongst the
Bomans towards the end of their
commonwealth, yet it was the Koman
tongne that was made the study of
their youth : their own language they
were to make use of, and therefore it
was their own language they were in-
structed and exercised in.

**But, more particularly, to deter-
mine the proper season for grammar,
1 do not see how it can reasonably be
made any one's study, but as an in-
troduction to rhetoric. When it is
thought time to put any one upon the
care of polishing his* tongne, and of
speaking better than the illiterate, then
is the time for him to be instructed in
the rules of grammar, and not before.
For grammar being to teach men not
to speak, but to speak correctly, and ac-
cording to the exact rules of the tongue,
which is one part of elegancy, there is
little use of the one to him that has no
need of the other. Where rhetoric is
not necessary, grammar maybe spared.
I know not why any one should waste
his time, and beat his head about the
Iiatin grammar, who does not intend
to be a critic or make speeches, and
write despatches in it. When any one
finds in himself a necessity or dispo-
sition to study any foreign language to
the .bottom, and to be nicely exact in
the knowledge of it, it will be time
enough to take a grammatical survey
of it. If his use of it be only to
understand some books writ in it,
without a critical knowledge of the
tongue itself, reading alone, as I have
said, will attain that end, without

charging the mind with the multiplied
rules and intricacies of grammar.'' —
(Jjocke on Educatiorif p. 78. folio.)

In the Eton Grammar, the following
very plain and elementary information
is conveyed to young gentlemen utterly
ignorant of every syUable of the lan-
guage : —

** Nomina anomala qute contrahuntur
sunt, 'OAoirot^, qu8B contrahuntur iu om-
nibus, ut Yooc YOv$, &0. 'OAiyoiro^, qu» in
paucioribus casibus contrahuntur, ut sub-
stantiva Barytonia in vp. Imparyllatna in
ovp,'* &C. &c

From the Westminster Grammar we
make the following extract — and some
thousand rules, conveyed in poetry of
equal merit, must be fixed upon the
mind of the youthful Grecian, before he
advances into the interior of the lan-^
guage : --

**» finis thematis finis utriusque fiituri est
Post liquidam in primo, vel in uuoquoque
. secundo,

w circujnfleKum est. Ante w finale cha-
racter
Ezplicitus <rc primi est implicitusque

futuri
w itaque in quo <r quasi plezum est solitn
in <«!>."
WesttiUnater Greek Grammar, 1814*

Such are the easy initiations of our
present methods of teaching. The
Hamiltonian system, on the other
hand, 1. teaches an unknown tongue
by the closest interlinear translation,
instead of leaving a boy to explore
his way by the lexicon or dictionary.
2. It postpones the study of grammar
till a considerable progress has been
made in the language, and a great de-
gree of practical grammar has been
acquired. 3. It substitutes the cheer-
fulness and competition of the Lancas^
terian system for the dull solitude of
the dictionary. By these means, a
boy finds be is making a progress, and
learning something from the very be-
ginning. He is not overwhelmed with
the first appearance of insuperable
difiiculties ; he receives some little
pay from the first moment of his ap-
prenticeship, and is not compelled to
wait for remuneration till he is. out of
his time. The student having acquired
I the great art of understanding the

106

COUNSEL ]?0R PRISONERS.

sense of what is written in another
tongue, may go into the study of the
language as deeply and as extensively
as he pleases. The old system aims at
beginning with a depth and accuracy
which many men never will want,
which disgusts many from arriving
even at moderate attainments, and is
a less easy, and not more certain road
to a profound skill in languages, than
if attention to grammar had been de-
ferred to a later period.

In fine, we are strongly persuaded,
that the time being given, this system
will make better scholars ; and the
degree of scholarship being given, a
much shorter time will be needed. If
there be any truth in this, it will make
Mr. Hamilton one of the most useful
men of his age ; for if there be any-
tliing which fills reflecting men with
melancholy and regret, it is the waste
of mortal time, parental money, and
puerile happiness, in the present method
of pursuing Latin And Greek.

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERa
(E. Review, 1826.)

Stockton on the Practice qf not aUotving
Counsel for PrUoneTB acetued qfFekmy,
8vo. London. 1826.

On the sixth of April, 1 824, Mr. George
Lamb (a gentleman who is always the
advocate of whatever is honest and
liberal) presented the following peti-
tion from several jurymen in the habit
of serving on juries at the Old Bailey: —

"That your petitioners, fully sensible of
the invaluable privilege of Jury trials, and
desirous of seeing them as complete as hu-
man institutions will admit, feel it their
duty to draw the attention of the House to
the restrictions imposed on the prisoner's
counsel, which, they humbly conceive, have
strong claims to a legislative remedy. With
every disposition to decide justly, the peti-
tioners have found, by experience, in the
course of their attendances as jurymen in
the Old Bailey, that the opening statements
for the prosecution too frequently leave an
impression more unfavourable to the pri-
soner at the bar, than the evidence of itself
could have produced; and it has always
sounded harsh to the petitioners to hear it
announced from the bench, that the coun-
sel, to whom the priuouer has committed

his defence, cannot be permitted to address
the jury in his behalf, nor reply to the
charges which have, or have not, been sub-
stantiated by the witnesses. The peti-
tioners have felt their situation peculiarly
painful and embarrassing when the pri-
soner's faculties, perhaps surprised by such
an intimation, are too much absorbed, in
the difficulties of his unhappy circumstan-
ces to admit of an effort towards bis own
justification, against the statements of the
prosecutor's counsel, often unintentionally
aggravated through zeal or misconception;
and it is purely with a view to the attain-
ment of impartial justice, that the peti-
tioners humbly submit to the serious con-
sideration of the House the expediency of
allowing every accused person the ftill be-
nefit of counsel, as in cases of misdemean-
our, and according to the practice of the
civil courts."

With the opinions so sensibly and
properly expressed by these jnrynaen,
we most cordially agree. We have
before touched incidentally on this sub-
ject ; but shall now give to it a more
direct and fuller examination. We
look upon it as a very great blot in
our over-praised criminal code ; and
no effort of oui*s shall be wanting, from
time to time» for its removal

We have now the benefit of discuss-
ing these subjects under the govern-
ment of a Hume Secretary of State,
whom we may (we believe) fairly call
a wise, honeflt, and high-principled
man — as he appears to us, without
wishing for innovation, or having any
itch for it, not to be afraid of innova-
tion*, when it is gradual and well con-
sidered. He is, indeed, almost the only
person we remember in his station, who
has not considered sound sense to
consist in the rejection of every im-
provement, and loyalty to be proved by
the defence of ever}' accidental, imper-
fect, or superannuated institution.

If this petition of jurymen be a real
bond fide petition, not the result of soli-

* We must always except the Catholic
question. Mr. Peers opinions on this sub-
ject (giving him credit for sincerity) have
alwavs been a subject of real surprise to
us. It must surely be some mistake between
the Ri^ht Honourable Gentleman and his
chaplam 1 They have been travelling toge-
ther, and some of the parson's notions have
been put up in Mr. Peel's head by mistake.
We yet hope he will return them to their
rightful owner.

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

107

citation — and we have no reason to
doubt it — it is a warning which the
Legislature cannot neglect, if it mean
to avoid the disgrace of seeing the
lower and middle orders of mankind
making laws for themselves, which the
Goyemment is at length compelled to
adopt as measures of their own. The
Judges and the Parliament would have
gone on to this day, hanging, by whole-
sale, for the forgeries of bank notes, if
juries had not become weary of the
continual butchery, and resolved to
acquit. The proper execution of laws
must always depend, in great measure,
upon public opinion ; and it is un-
doubtedly most discreditable to any
men intrusted with power, when the
governed turn round upon their gover-
nors, and say, ** Your laws are so cruel,
or 80 foolish, we can not, and will not,
act upon them."

The particular improvement, of al-
lowing counsel to those who are accused
of felony, is so far from being uo neces-
sary, from any extraordinary indul-
gence shown to English prisoners, that
we really cannot help suspecting, that
not a year elapses in which many inno-
cent persons are not found guilty.
How is it possible, indeed, that it can
be otherwise ? There are seventy or
eighty persons to be tried for various
offences at the Assizes, who have lain
in prison for some months ; and fifty
of whom, perhaps, are of the lowest
order of the people, without friends in
any better condition than themselves,
and without one single penny to em-
ploy in their defenee. How are. they
to obtain witnesses ? No attorney can
l)e employed — no subpoena can be
taken out ; the witnesses are fifty miles
off, perhaps — totally uninstmcted —
living from hand to mouth — utterly
unable to give up their daily occupa-
tion, to pay for their journey, or for
their support when arrived at the town
of trial — and, if they could get there,
not knowing where to go, or what to
da It is impossible but that a human
being, in such a helpless situation,
must be found guilty ; for as he can-
not give evidence for himself, and has
not a penny to fetcii those who can
give it for him, any story told against

him must be taken for true (however
false) ; since it is impossible for the
poor wretch to contradict it. A brother
or a sister may come — and support
every suffering and privation them-
selves in coming ; but the prisoner
cannot often have such claims upon
the persons who have witnessed the
transaction, nor any other claims but
those which an unjustly accused per-
son has upon those whose testimony
can exculpate him — and who probably
must starve themselves and their fami-
lies to do it. It is true, a case of life
and Aeaxh will rouse the poorest per-
sons, every now and then, to extraor-
dinary exertions, and they may tramp
through mud and dirt to the Assize
town to save a life — though even this
effort is precarious enough : but impri-
sonment, hard labour, or transportation,
appeal less forcibly than death — and
would often appeal for evidence in vain,
to the feeble and limited resources of
extreme poverty. It is not that a great
proportion of those accused are not
guilty — but that some are not — and are
utterly without means of establishing
their innocence. We do not believe
they are often accused from wilful and
corrupt perjury ; but the prosecutor is
himself mistaken— the crime has been
committed; and in his thirst for ven-
geance, he has got hold of the wrong
man. The wheat was stolen out of
the barn ; and, amidst many other col-
lateral circumstances, the witnesses
(paid and brought up by a wealthy
prosecutor, who is repaid by the coun-
ty) swear that they saw a man, very
like the prisoner, with a sack of corn
upon his shoulder, at an early hour of
the morning, going from the barn in
the direction of the prisoner's cottage !
Here is one link, and a very material
link, of a long chain of circumstantial
evidence. Judge and jury must give
it weight, till it is contradicted. In
fact, the prisoner did not steal the
corn; he was, to be sure, out of his
cottage at the same hour— and that
also is proved — but travelling in a
totally different direction — and was
seen to be so travelling by a stage
coachman passing by, and by a market
gardener. An attorney with money iu.

108

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

liifl pocket, whom every moment of
such employ made richer by six-and-
eightpence, would have had the two
witnesses ready, and at rack and man-
ger, from the first day of the assize ;
and the innocence of the prisoner
would have been established: but by
what possible means is the destitute
ignorant wretch himself to find or to
produce such witnesses? or how can
the most humane jury, and the most
acute judge, refuse to consider him as
guilty, till his witnesses are produced?
We have not the slightest disposition
to exaggerate, and on the contrary,
should be extremely pleased to be con-
vinced that our apprehensions were
unfounded : but we have often felt ex-
treme pain at the hopeless and unpro-
tected state of prisoners;, and we can-
not find any answer to our suspicions,
or discover any means by which this
perversion of justide, under the present
stt^te of the law, can be prevented from
taking place. Against the prisoner
are arrayed all the resources of an
angry prosecutor, who has certainly
(let who will be the culprit) suffered a
serious injury. He has his hand, too,
in the public purse; for he prosecutes
at the expense of the county. He can-
not even relent; for the magistrate has
bound him over to indict. His wit-
nesses cannot fail him; for they are
all bound over by the same magistrate
to give evidence. He is out of prison,
too, and can exert himself.

The prisoner, on the other hand,
comes into Court, squalid and de-
pressed from long confinenient — ut-
terly unable to tell his own story for
want of words and want of confidence,
and as unable to produce evidence
for want of money. His fate ac-
cordingly is obvious;— and tha,t there
are many innocent men punished every
year, for crimes they have not com-
mitted, appears to us to be extremely
probable. It is indeed, scarcely pos-
sible it should be otherwise; and, as if
to prove the fact, every now and then,
a case of this kind is detected. Some
circumstances come to light between
sentence and execution ; immense
exertions are made by humane men;
time is gained, and the innocence of

the condemned person completely esta*
blished< iln Elizabeth Caning*8 case,
two women were capitally convicted,
ordered for execution — and at last
found innocent, and respited. Such,
too, was the case of the men who
were sentenced, ten years ago, for the
robbery of Lord Cowper's steward.
"I have myself (says Mr. Scarlett)
of tern, seen persons I thought innocent
convicted, and the guilty escape, for
want of some acute and intelligent
counsel to show the bearings of the
different circumstances on the conduct
and situation of the prisoner." — {House
of Commons Debates, April 25th, 1 826.)
We are delighted to see, in this last,
debate, both Mr. Brougham and Mr.
Scarlett profess themselves friendly to
Mr.. Lamb's motion.

Bat in how many cases has the in-
justice proceeded without any suspi-
cion being excited? and even if we
could reckon upon men being watch-
ful in capital cases, where life is con*
cerned, we are afraid it is in such cases
alone that they ever besiege the Secre-
tary of State, and compel his atten-
tion. We never remember any such
interference to save a man unjustly
condemned- to the hulks or the tread-
mill; and yet tliere are certainly more
condemnations of these minor punish-
ments than to the gallows: but then it
is all one ^- who knows or cares about
it? If Harrison or Johnson has been
condemned, after regular trial by juiy,
to six months' tread-mill, because
Harrison and Johnson were without
a penny to procure evidence — who
knows or cares about Harrison or
Johnson ?^ how can they make them-
selves heard? or in what way can
they obtain redress? It worries rich
and comfortable people to hear the
humanity of our penal laws called in
question. There is a talk of a society
for employing discharged prisoners:
might not something be effected by a
society instituted for the purpose of
providing to poor prisoners, a proper
defence, and a due attendance of wit-
nesses? But we must hasten on from
this disgraceful neglect of poor pri-
soners, to the particular subject of com*
plaint we have proposed to ourselves*

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

109

The proposition is, That the pri-
soner accused of fdony ougJit to have
the same power of selecting counsel to
speak for him as he has in cases of
6'eason and misdemeanour^ and as de-
fendant have in cUl civU actions.

Nothing can be done in any discus-
sion upon any point of law in Eng-
land, without quoting Mr. Justice
Blackstone. Mr. Justice Blackstone,
we believe, generally wrote his Com-
mentaries late in the evening, with a
bottle of wine before him ; and little
did bethink, as each sentence fell from
the glass and pen, of the immense in-
fluence it might hereafter exercise
upon the laws and usages of his conn-
try. "It is," says this favourite
writer, ** not at all of a piece with the
rest of the humane treatment of pri-
soners by the English law ^ for upon
what face of reason can that assist-
ance be denied to save the life of a
man, which yeti is allowed him in pro-
secutions for every petty trespass?"
Nor, indeed, strictly speaking, is it a
part of our ancient law; for the Mir-
ror, having observed the necessity of
counsel in civil suits, who know how
to forward and defend the cause by the
rules of law and customs of the realm,
immediately subjoin?, ** and more ne-
cessary are they for defence upon in-
dictment and appeals of felony, than
upon any other venial crimes.*' To
the authority of Blackstone may be
added that of Sir John Hall,infiollis's
case; of Sir Robert Atkyns, in Lord
Knssell's case ; and of Sir Bartholomew
Shower, in the arguments for a New
Bill of Rights, in 1682. ♦* In the name
of God," says this judge, ** what harm
can accrue to the public in general, or
to any man in particular, that, in cases
of State-treason, counsel should not be
allowed to the accused? What rule
of justice is there to warrant its de-
nial, when, in a civil case of a half-
penny cake, he may plead either by
himself or by his advocate? That the
Court is counsel for the prisoner can
be no effectual reason ; for so they are
for each party, that right maybe done."
--{Somers^ Tracts, vol. ii. p. 668.) In
the trial of Thomas Rosewell, a dis-
lenting clergyman, for high treason, in

1684, Judge Jeffries^ in summing up,
confessed to the jury, " that he thought
it a hard cade, that a man should have
counsel to defend himself for a two-
penny trespass, and his witnesses be
examined upon oath; but if he stole,
committed murder or felony, nay, high
treason, where life, estate, honour, and
all were concerned, that he should
neither have counsel, nor have his
witnesses examined upon oath." —
(JSowelts State Trialsy vol. x. p. 207.)
There have been two capital errors
in the criminal codes of feudal Europe,
from which a great variety of mistake
&nd injustice have proceeded : the one,
a disposition to confound accusation
Avith guilt ; the other, to mistake a de-
fence of prisoners accused by the
Crown, for disloyalty and disaffection
to the Crown ; and from these errors
our own code has been slowly and
gradually recovering, by all those
straggles and exertions which it
always costs to remove foUy sanctioned
hy antiquity. In the early periods of
our history, the accused person could
call no evidence :— then for a long
time, his evidence against the King
could not be examined upon oath ;
consequently, he might as well have
produced none, as all the evidence
against him was upon oath. Till the
reign of Anne, no one accused of
felony could produce witnesses upon
Oath ; and the old practice was vindi-
cated, in opposition to the new one,
introduced under the statute of that
day, on the grounds of humanity and
tenderness to the prisoner ! because,
as his witnesses were not restricted by
an oath, they were at liberty to indulge
in simple falsehood as much as they
pleased ; — so argued the blessed de-
fenders of nonsense in those days.
Then it was ruled to be indecent and
improper that counsel should be em-
ployed against the Crown ; and, there-
fore, the prisoner accused of treason
could have no counsel. In like manner,
a party accused of felony could have
no counsel to assist him in the trial.
Counsel might indeed stay in the court,
but apart from the prisoner, with whom
they could have no communication.
They were not allowed to put any

no

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

question, or to suggest any doubtful
point of law ; but if the prisoner
(likely to be a weak unlettered man)
could himself suggest any doubt in
matter of law, the Court determined
first if the question of law should be
entertained, and then assigned counsel
to argue it. In those times, too, the
jury were punishable if they gave a
false verdict against the King, but were
not punishable if they gave a false
verdict against the prisoner. The pre-
amble of the Act of 1696 runs thus :
— ** Whereas it is expedient that per-
sons charged with high treason should
make a full and snfiBcient defence.**
Might it not be altered to persons
charged with any species or degree of
crime f All these errors have given
way to the force of truth, and to the
power of common sense and common
humanity — the Attorney and Solicitor
General, for the time being, always
protesting against each alteration, and
regularly and officially prophesying the
utter destruction of the whole jurispru-
dence of Great Britain. There is no
man nOw alive perhaps, so utterly
foolish, as to propose, that prisoners
should be prevented from producing
evidence upon oath, and being heard
by their counsel in cases of high trea-
son ; and yet it cost a struggle for seven
sessions to get this measure through
the two houses of Parliament. But
mankind are much like the children
they beget — they always make wry
faces at what is to do them good ; and
it is necessary sometimes to hold tlie
nose, and force the medicine down the
throat. They enjoy the health and
vigour consequent upon the medicine ;
but cuff the doctor, and sputter at his
stuff !

A most absurd argument was ad-
vanced in the honourable House, that
the practice of employing counsel
would be such an expense to the pri-
soner I — just as if anything was so
expensive as being hanged ! What a
fine topic for the ordinary ! ** You are
going" (says that exquisite divine) **to
be hanged to-morrow, it is true, but
consider what a sum you have saved !
Mr. Scarlett or' Mr. Brougham might
certainly have presented arguments to

the jury, which would have insar^d
your acquittal ; but do you forget that
gentlemen of their eminence must be
recompensed by large fees, and that,
if your life had been saved, you would
actually have been out of pocket above
20/.? You will now die with the
consciousness of having obeyed the
dictates of a wise economy ; and with
a grateful reverence for the laws of
your country, which prevents you from
running into such unbounded expense
-*-so let us now go to prayers."

It is ludicrous enough to recollect,
when the employment of counsel is
objected to on account of the expense
to the prisoner, that the same merciful
law, which, to save the prisoner'ti
money, has denied him counsel, and
produced his conviction, seizes upon
all his savings the moment he is con-
victed.

Of all false and foolish dieta^ the
most trite and the most absurd is that
which asserts that the Judge is coun-
sel for the prisoner. We do not hesi-
tate to say that this is merely an
unmeaning phrase, invented to defend
a pernicious abuse. The Judge cannot
be counsel for the prisoner, ought not to
be counsel for the prisoner, never is
counsel for the prisoner. To force an
ignorant man into a court of justice,
and to tell him that the Judge is his
counsel, appears to us quite as foolish
as to set a hungry man down to his
meals, and to tell him that the table
was his dinner. In the first place, a
counsel should always have private and
previous communication with the pri-
soner, which the Judge, of coarse,
cannot have. The prisoner reveals to
his .counsel how far he is guilty, or he
is not ; states to him all the circum-
stances of his case — and might often
enable his advocate, if his advocate
were allowed to speak, to explain a
long string of circumstantial evidence
in a manner favourable to the inno-
cence of his client. Of all these ad-
vantages, the Judge, if he bad every
disposition to befriend the prisoner, is
of course deprived. Something occurs
to a prisoner in the course of the cause ;
he suggests it in a whisper to his coini-
sel, doubtful if it is a wise point to

COUNSEL FOB PBISOKERa

111

urge or not His counsel thinks it of
importance, and would urge it, if his
mouth were not shut. Can a prisoner
have this secret communication with a
Judge, and take his advice, whether or
not he, the Judge, shall mention it to
the jury ? The counsel has (after all
the evidence has been given) a bad
opinion of his client's case ; but he
suppresses that opinion ; and it is duty
to do so. He is not to decide ; that is
the province of the jury ; and in spite
of his own opinion, his client may be
innocent. He is brought there (or
would be brought there if the privilege
of speech were allowed) for the ex-
press purpf)S6 of saying all that could
be said on one side of the question.
He is a weight in one scale, and some
one else holds the balance. This is the
way in which truth is elicited in civil,
and would be in criminal oases. But
does the Judge ever assume the appear-
ance of believing a prisoner to be in-
nocent whom he thinks to be guilty ?
If the prisoner advances inconclusive
or weak arguments, does not the Judge
say they are weak and inconclusive,
and does he not often sum up against
his own client ? How then is he coun-
sel for the prisoner ? If the counsel
for the prisoner were to see a strong
point, which the counsel for the prose-
cution had missed,, would he supply
the deficiency of his antagonist, and
nrge what had been neglected to be
nrged? But is it not the imperious
duty of the Judge to do so ? How
then can these two functionaries stand
in the same relation to the prisoner ?
In fact, the only meaning of the phrase
is this, that the Judge will not suffer
any undue advantage to be taken of
the ignorance and helplessness of the
prisoner — that he wiU point out any
evidence or circumstance in his favour
^and see that equal justice is done to
both parties. But in this sense he is
as mnch the counsel of the prosecutor
>8 of the prisoner. This is all the Judge
can do, or even^retends to do ; but he
can have no previous communication
with the prisoner — he can have no
confidentifid communication in court
with the prisoner before he sums up ;
he cannot fling the whole weight of his

nndersCanding inta the opposite scale
against the counsel for the prosecution,
and produce that collision of faculties,
which, in all other cases but those of
felony, is supposed to be the happiest
method of arriving at truth. Baron
Garrow, in his charge to the grand
jury at Exeter, on the 16th of August,
1824, thus expressed his opinion of a
Judge being counsel for the prisoner:
— **It has been said, and truly said,
that in criminal courts, Judges were
counsel for the prisoners. So undoubt-
edly they were, as far as they could to
prevent undue prejudice, to guard
against improper influence being ex-
cited against prisoners ; but it was
impossible for them to go further than
this ; for they could not suggest the
course of detience prisoners ought to
pursue s for Judges only saw the depo-
sitions so short a time before the ac-
cused appeared at the bar of their
country, that it was quite impossible
for them to act fully in that capacity.*'
The learned Baron might have added,
that it would be more correct to call
the Judge counsel for the prosecution ;
for his only previous instructions were
the depositions for the prosecution,
from which, in the absence of counsel,
he examined the evidence against the
prisoner. On the prisoner's behalf he
had no instructions at all.

Can anything, then, be more fla-
grantly and scandalously unjust, than,
in a long case of circumstantial evi-
dence, to refuse to a prisoner the benefit
of counsel ? A foot-mark, a word, a
sound, a tool dropped, all gave birth
to the most ingenious inferences ; and
the counsel for the prosecution is so far
from being blamable for entering into
all these things, that they are all essen-
tial to the detection of guilt, and they
are all links of a long and intricate
chain : but if a close examination into,
and a logical statement of, all these
circumstances be necessary for the es-
tablishment of guilt, is not the same
closeness of reasoning, and the same
logical statement necessary for the es-
tablishment of innocence ? If justice
cannot be done to ■ society without the
intervention of a practised and inge-
nious mind, who may connect all these

112

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

links together, and make them clear to
the apprehension of a jary, can justice
be done to the prisoner, unless similar
practice and similar ingenuity are em-
ployed to detect the flaws of the chain,
and to point out the disconnection of
the circumstances ?

Is there any one gentleman in the
House of Commons, who, in yielding
his vote to this paltry and perilous fal-
lacy of the Judge being counsel for the
prisoner, does not feel, that, were he
himself a criminal, he would prefer
almost any counsel at the bar, to the
tender mercies of the Judge ? How
strange that any man who could make
his election would eagerly and dili-
gently surrender this exquisite privi-
lege, and addict himself to the perilous
practice of giving fees to counsel !
Nor let us forget, in considering Judges
as counsel for the prisoner, that there
have been such men as Chief Justice
Jeffries, Mr. Justice Page, and Mr.
Justice Aly bone, and that, in bad times,
such men may reappear. . ** If you do
not allow me counsel, my Lords (says
Lord Lovat), it is impossible for me to
make any defence, by reason of my in-
firmity. I do not see, I do not hear. I
come up to the bar at the hazard of my
life. I have fainted several times ; I
have been up so early, ever since four
o'clock this morning. I therefore ask
for assistance ; and if you do not allow
me counsel, or such aid as is necessary,
it will be impossible for me to make
any defence at alL" Though Lord
Lovat's guilt was evident, yet the man-
agers of the impeachment felt so
strongly the injustice which w&s done,
that, by the hands of Sir W. Young,
the chief manager, a bill was brought
into Parliament to allow counsel to
persons impeached by that House,
which was not previously the case ; so
that the evil is already done away with,
in a great measure, to persons of rank.*
it so happens in legislation, when a
gentleman suffers, public attention is
awakened to the evil of laws. Every
man who makes laws says, ** This may
be my case :'* but it requires the re-
peated efforts of humane men, or, as
Mr. North calls them dilettanti philo-
sophers, to awaken the attention of

law-makers to evils from which they
are themselves exempt. We do not
say this to make the leaders of man-
kind unpopular, but to rouse their ear-
nest attention in cases where the poor
only are concerned, and where neither
good nor evil can happen to themselves.

A great stress is laid upon the mod-
eration of the*opening counsel ; that
is, he does not conjure the farmers in
the jury-box, by the love which they
bear to their children — he does not
declaim upon blood-guiltiness — he does
not describe the death of Abel by Cain,
the first murderer — he does not de-
scribe scattered brains, ghastly wounds,
pale features, and hair clotted with gore
— he does not do a thousand things,
which are not in English taste, and
which it would be very foolish and
very vulgar to do. We readily allow-
all this. But yet, if it be a canse of
importance, it is essentially necessary
to our counsellor's reputation that this
man should be hung! And accord-
ingly, with a very calm voice, and
composed manner, and with many ex-
pressions of candour, he sets himself
to comment astutely upon the circam-
stances. Distant events are immedi-
ately connected ; meaning is given to
insignificant facts ; new motives are
ascribed -to innocent actions ; farmer
gives way after farmer in the jury-box ;
and a rope of eloquence is woven
round the prisoner's neck I Every one
is delighted with the talents of the
advocate $ and, because there has been
no noise, no violent action, and no
consequent perspiration, he is praised
for his candour and forbearance, and
the lenity of our laws is the theme of
universal approbation. In the mean-
time, the speech-maker and the pri-
soner know better.

We should be glad to know of any
one nation in the world, taxed by kings,
or even imagined by poets (except the
English), who have refused to prisoners
the benefit of coansel| Why is the
voice of humanity heard everywhere
else, and disregarded here ? In Scot-
land, the accused have not only coun-
sel to speak for them, but a copy of the
indictment, and a list of the witnesses.
In France, in the NeUierlfuids, in the

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

113

whole of Europe, counsel are allotted
as a matter of course. Everywhere
else but here, accnaation is considered
as unfavourable to the exercise of ho-
man faculties. It is admitted to be
that crisis in which, above all others,
aa unhappy man wants the aid of
eloquence, wisdom, and coolness. In
France, the Napoleon Code has pro-
vided not only that counsel should be
allowed to the prisoner, but that, as
with us in Scotland, his counsel should
have the last word.

It is a most affecting moment in a
court of justice when the evidence has
all been heard, and the Judge asks the
prisoner what he has to say in his de-
fence. The prisoner, who baa ( by great
exertions, perhaps of his friends) saved
up money enough to procure counsel,
says to the Judge, ** that he leaves his
defence to his counsel. " We have often
blushed for English humanity to hear
the reply. ** Your counsel cannot speak
for you, you must speak for yourself ;"*
and this is the reply given to a poor
girl of eighteen — to a foreigner — to
a deaf man — ^to a stammerer — to the
sick— to the feeble — to the old — to
the most abject and ignorant of human
beings I It is a reply, we must say, at
which common sense and common
feeling revolt: — for it is full of brutal
cruelty, and of base inattention of
those who make laws, to the happiness
of those for whom laws were made.
We wonder that any juryman can con-
vict under such a shocking violation of
all natural justice. The iron age of
Clovis and Clottaire can produce no
more atrocious violation of every good
feeling, and every good principle. Can
a sick man find strength and nerves to
speak before a large assembly ? — can
an ignorant man find words ? — can a
low man find confidence ? Is not be
afraid of becoming an object of ridi-
cule ? — can he believe that hisexjM'es-
sions will be understood ? How often
liave we seen a poor wretch, struggling
against the agonies of his spirit^ and
the rudeness of his conceptions^ and
his awe of better-dressed men and
better-taught men, and the shame which
the accusation has brought upon his
head, and the sight of his parents and

Vol. IL •

children gazing at him in the Court,
for the last time, perhaps, and after a
long absence ! The mariner sinking
in the wave does not want a helping
hand more than does this poor wretch.
But help is denied to all t Age cannot
have it,, nor ignorance, nor the modesty
of women I One hard uncharitable rule
silences the defenders of the wretched,
in the worst of human evils ; and at
the bitterest of human moments, mercy
is blotted out from the ways of men I

Suppose a crime to have been com-
mitted under the influence of insanity ;
is the insane man, now convalescent^
to plead his own insanity? — to offer
arguments to show that he must have
been mad ? — and, by the glimmerings
of his returning reason, to prove that
at a former period that same reason was
utterly extinct ? These are the cruel
situations into which Judges and
Courts of Justice are thrown by the
present state of the law.

There is a Judge now upon the
Bench, who never took away the life
of a fellow-creature without shutting
himself up alone, and giving the most
profound attention to every circum-
stance of the case ! and this solema
act he always premises with his owa
beautiful prayer to Grod, that he will
enlighten him with his Divine Spirit in
the exercise of this terrible privilege I
Now, would it not be an immense
satisfaction to this feeling and honour-
able magistrate, to be sure that every
witness on the side of the prisoner had
been heard, and that every argument
which could be urged in his favour
had been brought forward, by a man
whose duty it was to see only on one
side of the question, and whose interest
and reputation were thoroughly em-
barked in this partial exertion ? If a
Judge fail to get at the truth, after these
instruments of investigation are usedv
his failure must be attributed to the
limited powers of man — not to the
want of good inclination, or wise in-
stitutions. We are surprised that such
a measure does not come into Parlia-
ment, with the strong recommendation
of the Judges. It is surely better te
be a day longer on the circuit, than te
murder rapidly in ermine.

1

114

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

it is argned, that, among the varioas
pleas for mercy that are offered, no
prisoner has ever urged to the Secre-
tary of State the disadvantage of hav-
ing no coansel to plead for him ; hut
a prisoner who dislikes to undergo his
sentence natnrali j addresses to those
who can reverse it snch arguments only
as will produce, in the opinion of the
referee, a pleasing effect. He does
not therefore find fault with the es-
tablished system of jurispradence, but
brings forward facts and argtiments to
prove his own innocence. Besides,
how few people there are who can
elevate themselves from the acquies-
cence in what is, to the ^consideration
of what ought to bet <uid if they could
do so, the way to get rid of a punish-
ment is not (as we have just observed)
to say, ** You have no right to punish
me in this manner/* but to say, ** I am
innocent of the offence." The frau-
dulent baker at Constantinople, who is
about to be baked to death in his own
oven, does not complain of the severity
of baking bakers, but promises to use
more flour and less fraud.

Whence comes it (we should like to
ask Sir John Singleton Copley, who \
seems to dread so much the conflicts
of talent in criminal cases) that a
method of getting at truth which is
found so serviceable in -civil cases
should be so much objected to in
"criminal cases ? Would you have all
this wrangling and bickering, it is
asked, and contentious eloquence,
when the life of a man is concerned ?
Why not, as well as when his property
is concerned ? It is either a good
means of doing justice, or it is not,
that two understandings should be put
in opposition to each other, and that ;
a third should decide between them.
Does this open evecy view which can
4>ear upon the question ? Does it in
the most effectual manner watch the
Judge, detect perjuiy, and sift evi-
dence ? If not, why is it snfiered to
disgrace our civil institutions ? If it
effect all these objects, why is it not
incorporated into our criminal law ?
Of what importance is a little disgust
at professional tricks, if the solid ad-
vantage gained be a neansr approxi-

mation to truth ? Can anything be
more preposterous than this preference
of taste to justice, and of solemnity ta
truth f What an eulogium of a trial
to say, ** I am by no means satisfied
that the Jury were right in finding the
prisoner guilty ; but everything was
carried on with the utmost decorum !
The verdict was wrong ; but there was
the most perfect propriety and order
in the proceedings. The man will be
un&irly hanged ; bat all was genteel ! "
If solemnity is what is principally
wanted in a court of justice, we had
better study the manners of the old
Spanish Inquisition ; but if battles
with the Judge, and battles among the
counsel, are the best method, as they
certainly are, of getting at the truth,
better tolerate this philosophical Bil-
lingsgate, than persevere, because the
life of a man is at stake, in solemn
and polished injustice.

Wliy should it not be just as wise
and equitable to leave the defendant
without counsel in civil cases — and
to tell him that the Judge was his
counsel ? And if the reply is to pro-
duce such injurious effects as are anti-
cipated upon the minds of the Jury
in criminal cases, why not in civil
cases also ? In twenty-eight cases
out of thirty, the verdict in civil cases
is correct ; in the two remaining cases,
the error may proceed from other
causes than the right of reply ; and
yet the right of reply has existed in
all. In a vast majority of cases, the
verdict is for the plaintiff, not because
there is a right of reply, but because
he who has it in his power to decide
whether he will go to law or not, and
resolves to expose himself to the ex-
pense and trouble of a lawsuit, has
probably a good foundation for his
claim. Nobody, of course, can intend
to say that the majority of verdicts in
favour of plaintifis are against justice,
and merely attributable to the advan-
tage of a last speech. If this were the
case, the sooner advocates are turned
out of court the better — and then
the improvement of both civil and
criminal law would be an abolition of
all speeches ; for those who dread the
effBct of the last word upon the fate of

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

115

the prisoner mast remember that there
is at present always a last speech
against the prisoner ; for, as the ooan-
sel for the prosecution cannot be re-
plied to, his is the last speech.

There is certainly this difference
between a civil and a criminal case—
that in one a new trial can be gp^nted,
in the other not. Bat jon most first
make up jonr mind whether this system
of contentions investigation by opposite
advocates is or is not the best method
of getting at truth : if it be, the more
irremediable the decision, the more
powerful and perfect shonld be the
means of deciding; and then it would
be a less oppression if the civil de-
fendant were deprived of counsel than
the criminal prisoner. When an error
has been committed, the advantage is
greater to the latter of these persons
than to the former; — ^the criminal is
not tried again, but paid9ned ; while
the civil defendant must run the chance
of another Jury.

If the efiect of reply, and the con-
tention of counsel, have all these bane-
ful consequences in felony, why not
also in misdemeanour and high trea-
wm ? Half the cases at Sessions are
cases of misdemeanour, where counsel
are employed and half-informed Jus-
tices preside instead of learned Judges.
There are no complaints of the unfair-
ness of verdicts, though there are every
now and then of the severity of punish-
ments. Now, if the reasoning of Mr.
Iamb's opponents were true, the- dis-
tnrbing force of the prisoner's counsel
must fling everything into confusion.
The Court for misdemeanours must be
a scene of riot and perplexity; and
the detection and punishment of crime
mnst be utterly impossible: and yet in
the very teeth of these objections, such
courts of justice are just as orderly in
one set of offences as the other ; and
the conviction of a guilty person just
as certain and as easy.

The prosecutor (if this system were
altered) would have the choice of
counsel; so he has now — with this
difference, that, at present, his counsel
cannot be answered nor opposed. It
would be better in all cases, if two men
of exactly equal talent could be opposed

to each other; but as this is impossiblot
the system must be taken with its in-
convenience; but there can be no
inequality between counsel so great as
that between any counsel and the pri-
soner pleading for himself. **It has
been lately my lot," says Mr. Denman,
'*to try two prisoners who were deaf and
dumb,«nd who could only be made to
understand what was passing by the
signs of their friends. The cases were
clear and simple ; but if they had been
circumstantial cases, in what a situation
would the Judge and Jury be placed,
when the prisoner could have no coun-
sel to plead for him ! " — (Debater of the
House of Commons^ April 25, 1826.)

The folly of being counsel for your-
self is 80 notorious in civil cases, that
it has grown into a proverb. But the
cruelty of the law compels a man, in
criminal cases, to be guilty of a much
greater act of folly, and to trust his life
to an advocate, who, by the common
sense of mankind, is pronounced to be
inadequate to defend the possession of
an acre of land.

In all cases it must be supposed,
that reasonably convenient instruments
are selected to effect the purpose in
view. A Judge may be commonly
presumed to understand his profession,
and a Jury to have a fan* allowance of
common sense; but the objectors to the
improvement we recommend appear to
make no such suppositions. Counsel
are always to make flashy addresses to
the passions. Juries are to be so much
struck with them, that they are always
to acquit or to condenm, contrary to
justice ; and Judges are always to be so
biassed, that they are to fling them-
selves rashly into the opposite scale
against the prisoner. Many cases of
ndisdemeanour consign a man to in-
famy, and cast a blot upon his posterity.
Judges and Juries must feel these cases
as strongly as any cases of felony; and
yet, in spite of this, and in spite of the
free permission of counsel to speak,
they preserve their judgment, and
command their feelings surprisingly.
Gknerally speaking, we believe none of
these eviiswouldtaJEe place. Trumpery
declamation would be considered as
discreditable to the counsel, and would

I 2

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

;116

be disregarded hj the Jury. The Judge
and Jury (as in civil cases) would gain
the habit of looking to the facts, select-
ing the arguments, and coming to rea-
sonable conclusions. It is so in all
other countries — and it would be so in
this. But the vigilance of the Judge
is to relax, if there is counsel for the
prisoner. Is, then, the relaxed vigil-
ance of the Judges complained of, in
hi|rh treason, in misdemeanour, or in
civil cases ? This appears to us really
to shut up the debate, and to preclude
reply. Why is the practice so good in
all other cases, and so pernicious in
felony alone? This question has never
received eyen the shadow of an answer.
There is no one objection against the
allowance of counsel to prisoners in
felony,- which does not apply to them
in all cases. If the vigilance of Judges
depend upon this injustice to the pri-
soner, then, the greater injustice to the
prisoner, the more vigilance; and so
the true method of perfecting the
' Bench would be, to deny the prisoner
the power of calling witnesses, and to
increase as much as possible the dis-
parity between the accuser and the
accused* We hope men are selected
for the Judges of Israel whose vigil-
ance depends upon better and higher
principles.

There are three methods of arranging
a trial, as to the mode of employing
counsel — that both parties should have
counsel, or neither — or only one. The
first method is the best ; the second is
preferable to the last ; and the last, which
is our present system, is the worst pos-
sible. K counsel were denied to either
of the parties, if it be necessary that
any system of jurisprudence should be
disgraced by such an act of injustice,
they should rather be denied to the
prosecutor than to the prisoner.

But the most singular caprice of the
law is, that counsel are permitted in
very high crimes, and in very small
crimes, and denied in crimes of a sort
of medium description. In high treason,
where you mean to murder I^rd Liver-
pool, and to levy war against the
people, and to blow up the two Houses
of Parliament, all the lawyers of

dry, and the Jury deaf. Lord Eldon,
when at the bar, has been heard for
nine hours on such subjects. If, in-
stead of producing the destruction of
five thousand people, you are indicted
for the murder of one person, here
human faculties, from the diminution
of guilt, are supposed to be so dear
and so unclouded, that the prisoner is
quite adequate to make his own de-
fence, and no counsel are allowed.
Take it then upon that principle, and
let the rule, and the reason of it, pass
as sufficient. But if, instead of mur-
dering the man, you have only libelled
him, then, for some reason or another,
though utterly unknown to us, the
original imbecility of faculties in ac-
cused persotis is respected, and counsel
are allowed. Was ever such nonsense
defended by public men in grave as-
semblies ? The prosecutor, too, (as
Mr. Horace Twiss justly observes,) can
either allow or disallow counsel, by
selecting his form of prosecution ; — r
as where a mob had assembled to re-
peal, by riot and force, some unpopular
statute, and certain persons had con-
tinued in that assembly for more thaa
an hour after proclamation to disperse.
That might be treated as levying war
against the King, and then the prisoner
would be entitled to receive (as Lord
George Gordon did receive) the benefit
of counsel. It might also be treated
as a seditious rite ; then it would be a
misdemeanour, and counsel would still
be allowed. But if government had
a mind to destroy the prisoner effectu-
ally, they have only to abstain froQ
the charge of treason, and to introduce
into the indictment the aggravatioiv
that the prisoner had continued with the
mob for an hour after proclamation to
disperse ; this is a felony, the prisoner's
life is in jeopardy, and counsel are
effectually excluded. It produces, in
many other cases disconnected with
treason, the most scandalous injusr
tice. A receiver of stolen goods, who
employs a young girl to rob her master,
may be tried for the misdemeanour ;
the young girl taken afterwards would
be tried for the felony. The receiver
would be punishable only with fine^
.Westminster Hall may tialk, themselves I imprisonment, or whipping, and h«

COUNSEL FOR PRISONERS.

117

coald have counsel to defend hinL
The girl indicted for felonj, and liable
to death, would enjoy no such advan-
tage.

In the comparison between felony
and treason there are certainly some
argaments why counsel should be al-
lowed in felony rather than in treason.
Persons accused of treason are gene-
rally persons of education and rank,
accustomed to assemblies, and to
public speaking, while men accused
of felony are commonly of the lowest
of the people. If it be true, that
Judges in cases of high treason are
more liable to be influenced by the
Crown, and to lean against the prisoner,
this cannot apply to cases of misde-
meanour, or to the defendants in civil
cases ; but if it be necessary, that
Judges should be watched in political
cases, how often are cases of felony
connected with political disaffection I
Every Judge, too, has his idiosyncrasies,
vhich require to be watched. Some
hate Dissenters — some mobs ; some
have one weakness, some another;
and the ultimate truth is, that no court
of justice is safe, unless there is some
one present whose occupation and in-
terest it is to watch the safety of the
prisoner. Till then, no man of right
teeUng can be easy at the administra-
tion of justice, and the punishment of
death.

Two men are accused of one offence;
the one dexterous, bold, subtle, gifted
with speech, and remarkable for pre*
sence of mind ; the other timid, hesi-
tating, and confused — is there any
reason why the chances of these two
men for acquittal should be, as they
are, so very different ? Inequalities
there will be in the means of defence
under the best system, but there is no
occasion tho law should make these
greater than they are left by chance or
nature.

But (it is asked) what practical in-
justice is done — what practical evil is
there in the present system? The
^reat object of all law is, that the guilty
should be punished, and that the inno-
cent should be acquitted. A very
great majority of prisoners, we admit,
are guilty — and so dearly guilty,

that we believe they would be found
guilty under any system ; but among
the number of those who are tried,
some are innocent, and the chance of
establishing their innocence is very
much diminished by the privation of
counsel In the course of twenty or
thirty years, among the whole mass of
English prisoners, we believe many are
found guilty who are innocent, and
who would not have been found guilty,
if an able and intelligent man had
watched over their interest, and repre-
sented their case. If this happen only
to two or three every year, it is quite
a sufficient reason why the law should
be altered. That such cases exist we
firmly believe ; and this is the practi-
cal evil — perceptible to men of sense
and reflection ; but not likely to be-
come the subject of general petition.
To ask why there are not petitions —
why the evil is not more noticed, is
mere parliamentary froth and minis-
terial juggling. Gentlemen are rarely
hung. If they were so, there would
be petitions without end for counsel.
The creatures exposed to the cruelties
and injustice of the law are dumb
creatures, who feel the evil without
being able to express their feeling.
Besides, the question is not, whether
the evil is found out, but whether the
evil exist. Whoever thinks it is an
evil, should vote against it, whether
the sufferer from the injustice discover
it to be an injustice, or whether he
suffer in ignorant silence. When the
bill was enacted, which allowed coun-
sel for treason, there was not a petition
from one end of England to the other.
Can there be a more shocking answer
from the Ministerial Bench, than to
say. For real evil we care nothing —
only for detected evil ? We will set
about curing any wrong which affects
our popularity and power : but as to
any other evil, we wait till the people
find it out ; and, in the meantime,
commit such evils to the care of Mr.
George Lamb, and of Sir James Mack-
intosh. We are sure so good a man
as Mr. Peel can never feel in this
manner.

Howard devoted himself to his-
country. It was a noble example.-

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118

COUNSEL FOR PRISONER&

Let two gentlemen on the Ministerial
side of the House (we only ask for
two) commit some crimes, which will
render their execution a matter of
painful necessity. Let them feel, and
report to the House, all the injustice
and inconvenience of having neither a
copy of the indictment, nor a list of
witnesses, nor counsel to defend them.
We will venture to say, that the evi-
dence of two such persons would do
more for the improvement of the crim-
inal law, than all the orations of Mr.
Lamb, or the lucubrations of Beccaria.
Such evidence would save time, and
bring the question to an issue. It is a
great duty, and ought to be fulfilled —
and in ancient Rome, would have been
fulfilled.

The opponents always forget that
Mr. Lamb's plan is not to compel
prisoners to have counsel, but to allow
them to have counsel, if they choose
to do so. Depend upon it, as Dr.
Johnson says, when a man is going to
be hanged, his faculties are wonder-
fully concentrated. If it b^ really
true, as the defenders of Mumpsimus
observe, that the Judge is the best
counsel for the prisoner, the prisoner
will soon learn to employ him, especi-
ally as his Lordship works without
fees. All that we want is an option
given to the prisoner — that a man, left
to adopt his own means of defence in
every trifling civil right, may have the
same power of selecting his own auxi-
liaries for higher interests.

But nothing can be more unjust than
to speak of Judges, as if they were of
one standard, and one heart and head
pattern. The great majority of Judges,
we have no doubt, are upright and
pure ; but some have been selected for
flexible politics — some are passionate
— some are in a hurry — some are
violent churchmen — some resemble
ancient females — some have the gout
— some are eighty years old — some
are blind, deaf, and have lost the power
of smelling. All one to the unhappy
prisoner — he has no choice.

It is impossiUe to put so gross an
insult upon Judges, Jurymen, Grand
Jurymen, or any person connected with
the administration of justice, as to sup-

pose that the longer time to be tfik6U up
by the speeches of counsel constitutes
the grand bar to the proposed altera-
tion. If three hours would acquit a
man, and he is hanged because he is
only allowed two hours for his defence,
the poor man is as much murdered as
if his throat had been cut before he came
into Court If twelve Judges cannot
do the most perfect justice, other twelve
must be appointed. Strange adminis-
tration of criminal law, to adhere ob-
stinately to an inadequate number of
Judges, and to refuse any improvement
which is incompatible with this arbi-
trary and capricious enactment. Nei-
ther is it quite certain that the proposed
alteration would create a greater de-
mand upon the time of the Court At
present the coimsel makes a defence by
long cross-examinations, and exami-
nations in chief of the witnesses, and
the Judge allows a greater latitude
than he would do, if the counsel of the
prisoner were permitted to speak. The
counsel by these oblique methods, and
by stating false points of law for the
express purpose of introducing facts,
endeavours to obviate the injustice of
the law, and takes up more time by
this oblique, than he would do by a
direct defence. But the best answer
to this objection of time (which, if true,
is no objection at all) is, that as many
misdemeanours as felonies are tried in
a given time, though counsel are al-
lowed in the former, and not in the
latter case.

One excuse for the absence of coun-
sel is, that the evidence upon which the
prisoner is convicted is always so clear,
that the counsel cannot gainsay it
This is mere absurdity, l^ere is not,
and cannot be, any such rule. Many
a man has been hung upon a string of
circumstantial evidence, which not only
very ingenious men, but very candid
and judicious men, might criticise and
call in question. If no one were found
guilty but upon such evidence as would
not admit of a doubt half the crimes
in the world would be unpunished.
This dictum, by which the presetit
practice has often been defended, was
adopted by Lord Chancellor Notting-
ham. To the lot of this Chancellor,

COUNSEL FOR TRISONERS.

lid

however, it fell to pnss sentence of
death upon Lord Stafford, whom (as
Mr. Denman justly observes) no coart
of justice, not even the House of Lords
(constituted as it was in those days),
eould have put to death, if he had had
counsel to defend him.

To improve the criminal law of
England, and to make it really deser-
^i{g of the incessant enloginm which
i«.^tf fished upon it, we would assimilate
trials for felony to trials for high trea«
son. The prisoner should not only
have counsel, buf a copy of the indict-
ment and a list of the witnesses, many
days antecedent to the trial. It is in
the highest degree unjust that I should
not see and study the description of
the crime with which I am charged, if
the most scrupulous exactness be re-
quired in that instrument which charges
me with crime. If the place tohere^ the
time when, and the manner how, and
the persons by whom, must all be spe-
cified with the most perfect accuracy,
if any deviation from this accuracy is
fatal, the prisoner, or his legal advisers,
should have a full opportunity of
judging whether the scruples of the
law have been attended to in the for-
mation of the indictment ; and they
ought not to be confined to the hasty
and imperfect consideration which can
be given to an indictment exhibited for
the first time in Court. Neither is it
possible for the prisoner to repel accu-
sation till he knows who is to be
brought against him. He may see
suddenly, stuck up in the witness's
box, a man who has been writing him
lett^^ to extort money from the Sireat
of evidence he could produce. The
character of such a witness would be
destroyed in a moment, if the letters
were produced ; and the letters would
have been produced, of course, if the
prisoner had imagined such a person
would have been brought forward by
the prosecutor. It is utterly impossible
for a prisoner to know in what way
he may be assailed, and against what
species of attacks he is to guard. Con-
versations may be brought against him
which he has forgotten, and to which
he could (upon notice) have given
another colour and complexion. Ac-

tions are made to bear upon his case,
which (if he had known they would
have been referred to) might have been
explained in the most satisfactory man-
ner. All these modes of attack are
pointed out by the list of witnesses
transmitted to the prisoner, and he has
time to prepare his answer, as it is
perfectly just he should have. This is
justice, when a prisoner has ample
means of compelling the attendance
of his witnesses ; when his written ac-
cusation is put into his hand, and he
has time to study it — when he knows
in what manner his guilt is to be
proved, and when he has a man of
practised understanding to state his
facts, and prefer his arguments. Then '
criminal justice may march on boldly.
The Judge has no stain of blood on his
ermine ; and the phras€s which En-
glish people are so fond of lavishing
upon the humanity of their laws will
have a real foundation. At present
this part of the law is a mere relic of
the barbarous injustice by which accu-
sation in the early part of our juris-
prudence was always confounded with
guilt. The greater part of these abuses
have been brushed away, as this cannot
fail soon to be. In the meantime it
is defended (as every other abuse has
been defended) by men who think it
their duty to defend everything which
», and to dread everything which is
not We are told that the Judge does
what he does not do, and ought not to
do. The most pernicious effects are
anticipated in trials of felony, from
that which is found to produce the
most perfect justice in civil causes, and
in cases of treason and misdemeanour :
we are called upon to continue a prac-
tice without example in any other
country, and are required by lawyers
to consider that custom as humane,
which every one who is not a lawyer
pronounces to be most cniel and un •
just — and which has not been brought
forward to general notice, only because
its bad effects are confined to the last
and lowest of mankind.*

* All this nonsense is now put an end to.
Counsel is allowed to the prisoner, and they
are permitted to speak in his defenoe.

1 4

I2d

•CATHOLIC QUESTION.

CATHOLICS. (E. Review, 1827.)

- 1, A Plain Statement in eupport qf the
■ Political Claims qftJie Beman Catholice J
in a Letter to the Ben. Sir George Lee^
Bart. By Lord Nugent, Member of Par-
liament for Aylesbuiy. London. Hook-
ham. 1826.
2. A Letter to Vieeount MiUon, M.P. By
One of hia Constituents. London. Bidg-
iray. 1827.
8. Charge by the Archbiehop qf CasheL
Dublin. Milliken.

If a poor man were to accept a gn>inca
npon the condition that he spoke all
the evil he could of another whom be
believed to be innocent, and whose
imprisonment he knew he should pro-
long, and whose privations he knew
he shonld increase by his false testi-
mony, would liot the person so hired
be one of the worst and basest of human
beings ? And would not his guilt be
aggravated, if, up to the moment of
receiving his aceldama, he had spoken
in terms of high praise of the per-
son whom he subsequently accused ?
Would not the latter feature of the
case prove him to be as much without
shame as the foriAer evinced him to be
without principle ? Would the guilt
be less, if the person so hired were a
man of education ? Would it be less,
if he were above want ? Would it be
less, if the profession and occupation
of his life were to decide men's rights,
or to teach them morals and religion ?
Would it be less by the splendour of
the bribe? Does a bribe of 3000/lleave
a man innocent, whom a bribe of 3U/.
would cover with infamy ? You are
of a mature period of Ufe, when the
opinions of an honest man ought to be,
. and are fixed. On Monday you were
a barrister or a conntry clergyman, a
serious and temperate friend to reli-
gions liberty and Catholic . emancipa-
tion. In a few weeks from this time
you are a bishop, or a dean, or a judge
— publishing and speaking charges
and sermons against the poor Catho-
lics, and explaining away this sale of
your soul by every species of falsehood,
shabbiness, and equivocation. You
may caiTy a bit of ermine on your
shoulder, or hide the lower moiety of

the body in a silken petticoat — and
men may call you Mr. Dean, or My
Lord ; but yon have sold your honour
and your conscience for money ; and,
though better paid, you are as base as
the witness who stands ajt the door of
the judgment-hall, to swear whatever
the suborner will p ' '-^t-n his month,
and to receive whate«
his pockeL*

When soldiers exercise, u..
a goodly portly person out of the ranks,
upon whom all eyes are directed, and
whose signs and motions, in the per-^
formance of the manual exercise, all
the soldiers follow. The Germans, we
believe, call him a Flugehnan, We pro-
pose Lord Nugent as a political flugel-
man ; — he is always consistent, plain,
and honest, steadily and straightly
pursuing his object without hope or
tiear, under the influence of good feel-
ings and high principle. The Hoase
of Commons does not contain within
its walls a more honest, upright man. ■

We seize upon the opportunity which
this able pamphlet of his Lordship's
affords us, to renew our attention to
the Catholic question. There is little
new to be said ; but we must not be
silent, or, in these days of baseness
and tergiversation, we shall be sup--
posed to have deserted our friend the
Pope ; and they will say of us, fVos-
tant venales apud Lambeth et WhitehcM.
God forbid it should ever be said of us
with justice — it is pleasant to loll and
roll, and to accumulate — to be a pur-
pie and fine linen man, and to be called
by some of those nicknames which frail
and ephemeral beings are so fond of
accumulating upon each other ; — but
the best thing of all is to live like-
honest men, and to add something to
the cause of liberality, justice, and
truth.

The Letter to Lord Milton is very
well and very pleasantly written. We
are delighted with the liberality and
candour of the Archbishop of Qashel.

• It is very far frova. our intention to sajr
that all who were for the Catholics, and are
now against them, have made this ohauge
from base motives; it is equally fSu* from
our intention not to say that many men of
both professions liave subjected themselves
to this shocking imputation.

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

121

The charge is in the highest degree
creditable to him. He mast lay his
acconnt for the farious hatred of bigots,
and the incessant gnawing of rats.

There are many men who (tho-
Toaghly aware that the Catholic ques-
tion mast be tdtimately carried) delay
their acqaiescence till the last moment,
and wait till the moment of peril and
civil war before they yield. That this
moment is not quite so remote as was
sapposed a twelvemonth since, the
events now passing in the world seem
to afford the strongest proof. The
trath is, that the disaffected state of
Ireland is a standing premium for war
with every cabinet in Europe which
has the most distant intention of quar-
relling with this country for any other
cause. ^ If we are to go to wary hH us
do 80 when the discontents of Ireland
are at their greatest height, before any
spirit of concession has been shown bp
ike British Cabinet^ Does any man
imagine that so plain and obvious a
principle has not been repeatedly urged
on the French Cabinet ? — that the eyes
of the Americans are shut upon the
state of Ireland— and that that great
and ambitious Republic will not, in
case of war, aim a deadly blow at this
most sensitive part of the British em-
pire ? We should really say, that
England has fully as niuch to fear
from Irish fraternisation with America
as with France. The language is the
same ; the Americans have preceded
them in the struggle ; the number of
emigrant and rebel Irish is very great
in America; and all parties are sure
of perfect toleration under the protec-
tion of America. We are astonished
at the madness and folly of English-
men, who do not perceive that both
France and America are only waiting
for a convenient opportunity to go to
war with this country ; and that one
of the first blows aimed at our inde-
pendence would bo the invasion of
Ireland.

We shoald like to argne this matter
with a regular Tory Lord, whose mem-
bers vote steadily against the Catholic
qaestion. "I wonder that mere fear
floes not miike yoa give up the Catho-
Hc question ! Do you mean to put

this fine place in danger — the yenison
—the pictures — the pheasants — the cel-
lars — the hot-house and the grapery ?
Should you like to see six or seyen ^
thousand French or Americans landed
in Ireland, and aided by a universal
insurrection of the Catholics ? Is it
worth your while to run the risk of
their success ? What evil from (he
possible encroachment of Catholics, by
civil exertions, can equal the danger of
such a position as this ? How can a
man of your carriaores, and horses, and
hounds, think of putting your high
fortune in such a predicament, and
crying out, like a schoolboy or a chap-
lain, *0h, we shall beat them ! we
shall put the rascals down I' No Po*
pery, I admit to your Lordship, is a
very convenient cry at an election, and
has answered your end ; but do not
push the matter too far : to bring on
a civil war, for No Popery, is a very
foolish proceeding in a man who hais
two courses and a remove \ As you
value your side-board of plate, your
broad riband, your pier glasses — if
obsequious domestics and large rooms
are dear to you — if you love ease and
flattery, titles and coats of arms — if
the labour of the French cook, the
dedication of the expecting poet, can
more you — if you hope for a long life
of side-dishes — if you are not insen-
sible to the periodical arrival of the
turtle fleets — emancipate the Catho-
lics! Do it for your ease, do it for
your indolence, do it for your safety —
emancipate and eat, emancipate and
drink — emancipate, and preserve the
rent-roll and the family estate I *'

The most common excuse of the
Great Shahby is, that the Catholics are
their own enemies — that the violence
of Mr. O'Connell and Mr. Shiel have
ruined their cause — that, but for these
boisterous courses, the qaestion would
have been carried before this time.
The answer to this nonsense and base-
ness is, that the very reverse is the fact.
The mild and the long-suffering may
sufi^er for ever in this world. If the
Catholics had stood with their hands
before them simpering at the Earls of
Liverpool and the Lords Bathurst of
the moment, they would not have been

122

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

emancipated till the jear of our Lord
four thousand. . As long as the patient
will suffer, the cruel will kick. No trea-
• son — no rebellion — but as much stub-
bornness and stoutness as the law per-
mits — a thorough intimation that you
know what is your due, and that you
are determined to have it if you can
lawfdbf get it. This is the conduct we
recommend to the Irish. If they go on
withholding, and forbearing, and hesi-
tating whether this is the time for the
discussion or that is the time, they will
be laughed at for another century as
fools — and kicked for another century
as slaves. ** I must have my bill paid
(says the sturdy and irritated trades-
man) ; your master has put me off
twenty times under different pretences.
I know he is at home, and I will not
quit the premises till I get the money."
Many a tradesman gets paid in this
manner, who would soon smirk and
smile himself into the Gazette, if he
trusted to the promises of the great.

Can anything be so utterly childish
and foolish as to talk of the bad taste
of the Catholic leaders ? — as if, in a
question of conferring on, or withhold-
ing important civil rights from seven
millions of human beings, anything
could arrest the attention of a wise man
but the good or evil consequences of so
great a measure. Suppose Mr. S. does
smell slightly of tobacco — admit Mr.
L. to be occasionally stimulated by
rum and water — allow that Mr. F. was
unfeeling in speaking of the Duke of
York — what has all this nonsense to do
with the extinction of religious hatred
and the pacification of Ireland? Give it
if it is right, refuse it if it is wrong. How
it is asked, or how it is given or refused,
are less than the dust of the balance.
. What is the real reason why a good
honest Twy, living at ease on his
possessions, is an enemy to Catholic
Emancipation ? He admits the Catho-
lic of his own rank to be a gentleman,
and not a bad subject — and about
theological disputes an excellent Tory
never troubles his head. Of what im-
portance is it to him whether an Irish
Catholic or an Irish Protestant is a
Judge in the King's Bench at Dub-
lin ? None I but / am afraid for the

Church of Ireland^ says our alarmist.
Why do you care so much for the
Church of Ireland, a country you
never live in? — Answer ^~ I do not
care so much for the Church of Ireland,
\f I woe sure the Church of JEngkutd
would not be destroyed.^^And is it for
the Church of England alone that you
fear ? — Answer — Not quite to thoL
But I am afraid we should all be hst,
that everything would be overturned^
and that I should lose wy rank and my
estate. Here then, we say, is a long
series of dangers, which (if there wera
any chance of their ever taking place)
would require half a century for their
development; and the danger of losing
Ireland by insurrection and invasion,
which may happen in six months, is ut*
terly overlooked, and forgotten. And if
a foreign influence should ever be fairly
established in Ireland, how many hours
would the Irish Church, how many
months would the English Church,
live after such an event I How much
is any English title worth after such
an event — any English family >- any
English estate ? We are astonished
that the. brains of rich Englishmen do
not fall down into their bellies in
talking of the Catholic question — that
they do not reason through the cardia
and the pylorus-^ that all the organs
of digestion do not become intellectuaL
The descendants of the proudest noble*
men in England may become beggars
in a foreign land from this disgraceful
nonsense of the Catholic question — fit
only for the ancient females of a nuur-
ket town.

What alarms us in the state of
England is the uncertain basis on
which its prosperity is placed — and the
prodigious mass of hatred which the
English government continues, by its
obstinate bigotry, to accumulate — eight
hundred and forty millions sterling of
debt. The revenue depending upon
the demand for the shoes, stockings,
and breeches of Europe — and seven
roillioBs of Catholics in a state of the
greatest fury and exasperation. We
persecute as if we did not owe a shil-
ling — we spend as if we had no dis-
affection. This, by possibility, may go
on ; but it is dangerous walking — the

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

123

ehance is, ther6 will be a fall No wise
man should take such a course. All
probabilities are against it. We are
astonished that Lord Hertford and
Lord Lowther, shrewd and calculating
Tories, do not see that it is nine to one
against such a game.

It is not only the event of war
we fear in the militarj struggle with
Ireland ; but the expense of war, and
the expenses of the Knglish govern-
ment, are paving the way for future
revolntions. The world never jet saw
so extravagant a government as the
Government of England. Not only is
economy not practised — but it is des-
pised; and the idea of it connected with
disaffection. Jacobinism, and Joseph
Hume. Every rock in the ocean where
a cormorant can perch is occupied by
our troops — has a governor, deputy-
governor, storekeeper, and deputy-
storekeeper — and will soon have an
archdeacon and a bishop. Military
colleges, with thirty-four professors,
educating seventeen ensigns per an-
num, being half an ensign for each
professor, with every species of non-
sense, athletic, sartorial, and plumige-
rons. A just and necessary war costs
this country about one hundred pounds
a minute ; whipcord fifteen thousand
pounds ; red tape seven thousand
pounds ; lace for drummers and fifers,
nineteen thousand pounds ; a pension
to one man who has broken his head
at the Pole ; to another who has shat-
tered his leg at the Equator ; subsidies
to Persia; secret service-money to
Thibet ; an annuity to Lady Henry
Somebody and her seven daughters —
the husband being shot at some place
w^here we never ought to have had any
soldiers at all ; and the elder brother
returning four members to Parliament.
Such a scene of extravagance, corrup-
tion, and expense as must paralyse the
industry, and mar the fortunes, of the
most industrious, spirited people that
ever existed.

Few men consider the historical view
which will be taken of present events.
The bubbles of last year ; the fishing
for half-crowns in Vigo Bay ; the Milk
Muffin and Crumpet Companies ; the
Apple, Pear, and Plum Associations ;

the National Gooseberry and Currant
Company ; will all be remembered as
instances of that partial madness to
which society is occasionally exposed.
What will be said of all the intolerable
trash which is issued forth at public
meetings of No Popery ? The follies
of one century are scarcely credible
in that which succeeds it. A grand-
mamma of 1827 is as wise as a very
wise man of 1727. If the world lasts
till 1927, the grandmammas of that
period will be far wiser than the tip-
top No Popery men of this day. That
this childish nonsense will have got
out of the drawing-room, there can be
no doubt. It will most probably have
passed through the steward's room,
and butler's pantry, into the kitchen.
This is the case with ghosts. They no
longer loll on couches and sip tea ;
but are down on their knees scrubbing
with the scullion — or stand sweating,
and basting with the cook. Mrs.
Abigail turns up her nose at them,
and the housekeeper declares for flesh
and blood, and will have notie of their
company.

It is delicious to the persecution-
fanciers to reflect that no general bill
has passed in favour of the Protestant
Dissenters. They are still disqualified
from holding any office — and are only
protected from prosecution by an an-
nual indemnity act. So that the sword
of Damocles still hangs over them —
not suspended indeed by a thread, but
by a cart-rope — still it hangs there an
insult, if not an injury, and prevents the
painful idea from presenting itself to
the mind of perfect toleration, and pure
justice. There is the larva of tyranny,
and the skeleton of malice. Now
this is all we presume to ask for the
Catholics — admission to Parliament,
exclusion from every possible office by
law, an annual indemnity for the breach
of law. . This is surely much more
agreeable to feebleness, to littleness,
and to narrowness, than to say, the
Catholics are as free, and as eligible,
as ourselves.

The most intolerable circumstance
of the Catholic dispute is, the conduct
of the Dissenters. Any man may dis-
sent from the Church of England, and

124

CATHOLIC

preach against it. hj paying sixpence.
Almost every tradesman in a market
town is a preacher. It most absolutely
be ride-and-tie with them ; the butcher
must hear the baker in the morning,
and the baker listen to the batcher in
the afternoon, or there would be no
congregation. We hare often specu-
lated upon the peculiar trade of the
preacher from his style of action,
bome have a tying-up or parcel-pack-
ing action; some strike strongly against
the anvil of the pulpit ; some screw,
some bore, some act as if they were
managing a needle. The occupation
of the preceding week can seldom be
mistaken. In the country, three or
lour thousand Ranters are sometimes
encamped, supplicating in religions
platoons, or roaring psalms out of
waggons. Now all this freedom is
very proper ; because, though it is
abused, yet in truth there is no other
principle in religious matters, than to
let men alone as long as they keep the
peace. Yet we should imagine this un-
bounded licence of Dissenters should
teach them a little charity towards the
Catholics, and a little respect for their
religions freedom. But the picture of
sects is this — there are twenty fettered
men in a gaol, and every one is em-
ployed in loosening his own fetters
with one hand, and riveting those of
his neighbour with the other.

«<'

'If then/ saiys a minister of our own
Church, the Beverend John Fisher, rector of
Wavenden, in this county, in a sermon pub-
lished some years ago, and entitled *The
IJtilitiy of the Church Establishment, and
its Safety consistent with Beligious Free-
dom'— * If, then, the Protestant religion
could have originally worked its way in this
country against numbers, prejudices, bigo-
try, and interest ; if, in times of its InfiBint^,
the power of the prince could not prevail
against it ; surely, when confirmed by age,
and rooted in the affections of the people—
when invested with authority, and in tall
enjoyment of wealth and power — when che-
rished by a Sovereign who holds his very
throne by this sacred tenure, and whose
conscientious attachment to it well war-
rants the title of Defender of the Faith—
surely any attack U()on it must be con-
temptible, any alarm of danger must be
laiagmaTy.' "— {Lord yugeiWt Letter, p.l8.)

QUESTION.

To go into a committee upon the
state of the Catholic Law is to recon-
sider, as Lord Nugent justly observes,
passages in our domestic history, which
bear date abont 270 years ago. Now,
what hnman plan, device, or invention,
270 years old, does not require recon-
sideration ? If a man dressed as he
dressed 270 years ago, the pug-dogs
in the streets would tear him to pieces.
If he lived in the houses of 270 years
ago, unrevised and uncorrected, he
would die of rheumatism in a week.
If he listened to the sermons of 270
years ago, he would perish with sad-
ness and fatigue $ and when a man
cannot make a coat or a cheese, for
50 years together, without making
them better, can it be said that laws
made in those days of ignorance, and
framed in the fnry of religions hatred,
need no revision, and are capable of
no amendment ?

We have not the smallest partiality
for the Catholic religion ; quite the
contrary. That it should exist at all
— that all Catholics are ndt converted
to the Protestant reli;;ion — we considei*
to be a serious evil ; bat there they are,
with their spirit as strong, and their
opinions as decided, as your own. The
Protestant part of the Cabinet have
quite given up all idea of putting them
to death ; what remains to be done ?
We all admit the evil \ the object is to
make it as little as possible. One
method commonly resorted to, we are
Bure, does not lessen, but increase the
evil ; and that is, to falsify history,
and deny plain and obvious facts, to
the injury of the Catholics. No true
friend to the Protestant religion and
to the Church of England will ever
have recourse to such disingenuouQ
arts as these.

'* Our histories have n6t, I believe, stated
what is untrue of Queen Mary, nor, per-
haps, have they very much exaggerated
what is true of her ; but our arguers, whose
only talk is of Smithfleld, are generally
very imcandid in what they conceal. It
would appear to be little known, that the
statutes which enabled Mary to burn those
who had conformed to the Church of her
father and brother, were Protestant sta-
tuteH, declaring the common law against
heresy, and framed by her fatiam Heoiy

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

the Eighth, and oonfirmed and acted npon
"by Order of Ck>uncil of her brother Edward
the Sixth, enabling that mild and temperate
young sovereign to bum divers misbelievers,
by sentence of commissioners (little better,
says Neale, than a Protestant Inquisition)
appointed to 'examine and search after aU
Anabaptists, Heretics, or contemners of the
Book of Common Prayer/ It would appear
to be seldom considered, that her seal might
very possibly have been warmed by the dr-
cuiTDStanoe of both her chaplains having
been imprisoned for their religion, and her-
self arbitrarily detained, and her safety
threatened, during the short but persecut-
ing reign of her brother. The sad evidences
of the violence of those days are by no
means confined to her acts. The fSngots of
persecution were not Idndled by Papists
only, nor did they cease to blaze when the
power of using them as instruments of
conversion ceased to be in Popish hands.
Cranmer himself, in his dreadfid death,
met with but equal measure for the flames
to which he had doomed several who denied
the apiritual supremacy of Henry the
Eighth : to which he had doomed also a
Dutch Arian, in Edward the Sixth's reign ;
and to which, with great pains and diffi-
culty, he had i)ersuaded that prince to doom
another miserable enthusiast, Joan Bocher,
for some metaphysical notions of her own
on the divine inoamation. ' So that on both
aides * (says Ijord Herbert of Cherbury) ' it
grew a bloody time.* Calvin burned 8er^
vetoB at Geneva for 'discoursing concern-
ing the Trinity, contrary to the sense of the
whole chureh; and thereupon set forth a
book wherein he giveth an account of his
doctrine, and of whatever else had passed
in this aflUr, and teaoheth that the sword
may be lawfully employed against heretics.'
Tet Calvin was no Papist. John Knox ex-
tolled in his writii^^ as 'the godly fiict .of
James MelvH,' the savage murder by which
Ctodinal Beaton was made to expiate his
many and cruel persecutions ; a murder to
which, by the great popular eloquence of
Knox, his fellow-labourers In the vineyard
of reformation, Lesly and Melvil, had been
excited ; and yet John Knox, and Lesly, and
MeMl, were no Papists. Henry the Eighth,
whose one virtue was impartiality in these
matters (if an impartial and evenly-ba-
lan<^ persecution of aU sects be a virtue),
beheaded a chancellor and a bishop^ b^
cause, having admitted his civil supremacy,
they doubted his spirituaL Of the latter
of them Loid Herbert says, ' The pope, who
aospected not, perchance, that the bishop's
end was so near, had, for more testimony of
his fftvour to him as disaffection to our king,
■eat himftoydinaVs hat ; but unseasonably,

125

his head being oft* He beheaded the Coun-
tess of Salisbury, because at upwards of
eighty years old she wrote a letter to Car-
dinal Pole, her own son ; and he burned
Barton, the ' Holy Maid of Kent,' for a pro-
phecy of his death. He burned four Ana
baptists in one day for opposing the doctrine
of infemt baptism ; and he burned Lambert
and Anne Asoue, and Belerican, and Las-
sells, and Adams, on another day, for oppos-
ing that of transubstantiation ; with many
others of lesser note, who reftised to sub-
scribe to his Six Bloody Articles, as they
were called, or whose opinions fell short of
his, or exceeded them, or who abided by
opinions after he had abandoned them ; and
all this after the Reformation. And yet
Henry the Eighth was the sovereign who
first delivered us from the yoke of Rome.

" In later times, thousands of Protestant
Dissenters of the four great sects were
made to languish in loathsome prisons, and
hundreds to perish miserably, during the
reign of Charles the Second, under a Pro-
testant High Church Gk>vemment, who
then first applied, in tiie prayer for the
Parliament, the epithets of ' most religious
and gracious' to a sovereign whom they
knew to be profligate and unprincipled be-
yond example, and had reason to suspect to
be a concealed Papist.

** Later stiD, Arehbishop Sharp was sacri-
flced by the murderous enthusiasm of oer^
tain Scotch Covenanters, who yet appear to
have sinoorely believed themselves inspired
by Heaven to this act of cold-blooded bar-
barous assassination.

"On subjects like these, silence on all
sides, and a mutual interohange of repent-
ance, forgiveness, and oblivion, is wisdom.
But to quote grievances on one side only, i«
not honestly,**— {Lord Nugwts Letter, pp.
a^270

Sir Bichard Bimie can only attend
to the complaints of individuals ; but
no cases of swindling are brought
before him so atrocious as the violation
of the Treaty of Limerick, and the
disappointment of those hopes, and
the frustration of that arrangement ;
which hopes and which arrangements
were held out as one of the great argu-
ments for the Union. The chapter of
Knglish Fraud comes next to the chap-
ter of English Cruelty, in the history
of Ireland — and both are equally
disgraceful.

Nothing can be more striking than
the conduct of the parent Legislature
to the Legislature of the West Indian

126

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

Islands. '*We cannot leave yon to
yourselves upon these points" (says
the English Government) ; " the wealth
of the planter, and the commercial
prosperity of the islands, are not the
only points to be looked to. We must
look to the general rights of humanity,
and see that they are not outraged in
the case of the poor slave. It is im-
possible we can be satisfied till we
know that he is placed in a state of pro-
gress and amelioration." How beau-
tiful is all this ! and how wise, and
how humane and affecting are our
efforts throughout Europe to put an
end to the Slave Trade I Wherever
three or four negotiators are gathered
together, a British diplomate appears
among them, with some article of
kindness and pity for the poor negro.
All is mercy and compassion, except
when wretched Ireland is concerned.
The saint who swoons at the lashes of
the Indian slave is the encourager of
No Popery Meetings, and the hard,
bigoted, domineering tyrant of Ire-
laud.

See the folly of delaying to settle a
question which, in the end, must be
settled, and, ere long, to the advantage
of the Catholics. How the price rises
by delay ! This argument is extremely
well put by Lord Nngent

"I should observe that two ooeasions
have ahready been lost of granting these
claims, coupled with what were called se-
curities, such as never can return. Inl808|
the late Duke of Norfolk and Lord Gren-
ville, in the one House, and Mr. Ponsonby
and Mr. Grattan in the other, were autho-
rised by the Irish CathoUo body to propose
a negative to be vested in the Crown upon
the appointment of their bishops. Mr. Pear^
oeval, the Chanoellor, and the Spiritual
Bench, did not see the impoiianoe of this
opportuniliy. It was r^eeted; the Irish
were driven to despair; and in the same
tomb with the question of 1808 lies for ever
buried the Veto. The same was the fiite
with what were called the ' wings ' attached
to Sir Francis Burdetf s bill of last year.
I voted for them, not for the nke certainly
of extending the patronage of the Crown
over a new body of clergy, nor yet for the
sake of diminishing the popular diaracter
of elections in Ireland, but because Mr.
CConnell, and because some of the Protes-
tant Irienda of the measure who knew Ire-

land the best, reoommended them ; and be-
cause I believed, fh>m the language of some
who supported it only on these conditions,
that they offered the fehirest chance for the
measure being carried. I voted for them as
the price of Catholic emancipation, for
which I can scarcely contemplate any Irish
price that I would not pi^. With the same
object, I would vote for them again ; but I
shall never again have the opportunity.
For these also, if they were thought of any
value as securities, the events of this year
in Ireland have shown you that you have
lost for ever. And the necessity of the great
measure becomes every day more urgent
and unavoidable"— (Xord Nugent » Letter,
pp. 71. 72.)

Can any man living say that Ireland
is not in a much more dangerous state
than it was before the Catholic Con-
vention began to exist ? — ^that the in-
flammatory state of that country is
not becoming worse and worse ? —
that those men whom we call dema-
gogues and incendiaries have not
produced a very considerable and
alarming effect upon the Irish popula-
tion ? Where is this to end ? But
the fool liiteth up his voice in the
coffee-house, and sayeth, **We shall
give them a hearty thrashing : let them
rise — the sooner the better — we will
soon put them down again." The fool
sayeth this in the coffee-house, and the
greater fool praiseth him. But does
Lord Stowel say this ? does Mr. Peel
say this f does the Marquis of Hert-
ford say this ? do sensible, calm, and
reflecting men like these, not admit
the extreme danger of combatting
against invasion and disaffection, and
this with our forces spread in actire
hostility over the whole face of the
globe? Can they feel this vulgar,
hectoring certainty of success, and
stupidly imagine that a thing cannot
be because it has never yet been ? — .
because we have hitherto maintained
our tyranny in Ireland against all
Europe, that we are always to main-
tain it ? And then, what if the strug-
gle does at last end in our favour ? is
die loss of English lives and of En-
glish money not to be taken into
account ? Is this the way in which a
nation overwhelmed with debt, and
trembling whether its 'looms and

CATHOLIC QUESTIOK.

ploughs will not be over-inatched bj
the looms and plonghs of the rest of
Europe — is this the waj in which such
a coantry is to husband its resources ?
Is the best blood of the land to be
flang awaj in a war of hassocks and
surplices ? Are cities to be summoned
for the Thirty-nine Articles, and men to
be led on to the charge by professors of
divinity? The expense of keeping such
a country must be added to all other
enonnoos expenses. What is really
possessed of a country so subdued?
four or five yards round a sentry-box,
and no more. And in twenty years'
time it is all to do over again — another
war — another rebellion, and another
enormous and ruinously expensive
contest, with the same dreadful uncer-
tainty of the issue! It is forgotten,
too, that a new feature has arisen in
the history of this country. In all
former insurrections in Ireland no
democratic party existed in England.
The efforts of Government were left
free and unimpeded. But suppose a
stoppage in your manufactures coinci-
dent with a rising of the Irish Catholics,
when every soldier is employed in the
lacred duty of Papist-hunting. Can
any man contemplate such a state of
things without horror ? Can any man
say that he is taken by surprise for such
a combination ? Can any man say
that any danger' to Church or State
is comparable to this ? But for the
prompt interference of the military in
the early part of 1826, three or four
hundred thousand starring manufac-
turers would have carried ruin and
destruction over the north of England,
and over Scotland. These dangers are
inseparable from an advanced state of
manufactures — but they need not the
addition of other and greater perils
which need not exist in any country
too wise and too enlightened for per-
secution.

Where is the weak point in these
plain arguments ? Is it the remoteness
of *the chance of foreign war ? Alas !
tre have been at war 85 minutes out
of every hoar since the Peace Of
Utrecht The state of war seems more
natural to man than the state of peace ;
and if we turn from general proba-

127

bilities to the state of Europe — Greece
to be liberated — Turkey to be destroyed
— Portugal and Spain to be made free
— ^the wounded vanity of the French,
the increasing arroganoe of the Ame-
neaps, and our own philopolemical
folly, are endless scenes of war. We
believe it is at all times a better specu-
lation to make ploughshares into
swords than swords into ploughshares.
If war is certain, we believe insurrec-
tion to be quite as certain. We cannot
believe but that the French or the
Americans would, in case of war. make
a serious attempt upon Ireland, and
that all Ireland would rush, tail fore-
most, into insurrection.

A new source of disquietude and war
has lately risen in Ireland. Our saints,
or evangelical people, or serious people,
or by whatever other name they are to
be designated, have taken the field in
Ireland against the Pope, and are con-
verting in the large way. Three or
four Irish Catholic prelates take a
post-chaise and curse the converters
and the converted. A battle royal
ensnes with shillelas : the policeman
comes in, and, reckless of Lambeth or
the Vatican, makes no distinction
between what is perpendicular and
what is hostile, but knocks down every-
body and everything which is upright ;
and so the fend ends for the day. We
have no doubt but that these efforts
will tend to bring things to a crisis
much sooner between the parties than
the disgraceful conduct of the Cabinet
alone would do.

"It is a charge not imputed by the laws
of England nor by the oaths which exclude
the Catholics : for those oaths impute only
spiritual errors. But it is imputed, which
is more to the purpose, by those persons
who approve of the excluding oaths, and
wish them retained. But, to the whole of
this imputation, even if no other instance
oould be adduced, as ftnr as a strong and re>
markable example can prove the negative
of an assumption which there is not a sin-
gle example to support—the full, and suffi-
cient, and inoontestable answer is Canada.
Canada^ which, until you can destroy the
memory of i^ that now remains to you of
your sovereignty on the North American
Coatinent, is an answer practical, memor-
able, difficult to be accounted tor, but Mao-

128

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

ing as the sun itself in sight of the whole
world, to the whole charge of divided alle-
giance. At your conquest of Canada, you
found it Boman Catholic; you had to
choose for her a constitution in Church
and State. You were wise enough not to
thwart public opinion. Tour own conduct
towards Presbyterianism in Scotland was
an example for imitation; your own con-
duct towards Catholicism in Ireland was tk
beacon for avoidance ; and in Canada you
established and endowed the religion of the
people. Canada was your only Boman Ca-
tholic colony. Tour other colonies rerolt-
ed ; they called on a Catholic power to sup-
port them, and th^ achieyed their inde-
pendence. Catholic Canada, with what;
Lord Liverpool would call her half-allegi-
ance, alone stood by you. She fought by
your side against the interference of Catho-
lic France. To reward and encourage her
loyalty, you endowed in Canada bishops to
say mass, and to ordain others to aa^ mass,
whom, at that rery time, your laws would
have hanged for saying mass in England;
and Canada is still yours, in spite of Catho-
lic France, in spite of her spiritual obedi-
ence to the Pope, in spite of Lord Liver-
pool's ai^^ment, and in spite of the inde-
pendence ^of all the states that surround
her. This is the only trial you have made.
Where you allow to the Boman Catholics
their rel^on undisturbed^ it has proved
itself to be compatible with the most fSftith-
f ul allegiance. It is only where you have
placed allegiance and religion before them
as a dilemma, that they hav£ preferred (as
who will say they ought not ?) their religion
to their allegiance. How then stands the
imputation? IMsproved by history, dis-
inroved in all states where both religions
co-exist, and in both hemispheres, and as*
sorted in an exposition by Lord Liverpool,
solemnly and repeatedly abjuf ed by all Ca-
tholics, of the discipline of tJieir church.*'—
{Lord Nugwfs Letter, pp. 86, 36.)

Can any man who has gained per-
missioii to take off his strait-waistcoat,
and been out of Bedlam three weeks,
believe that the Catholic question will
be set to rest by the conversion of the
Irish Catholics to the Protestant reli-
gion ? The best chance of conversion
will be gained by taking care that the
point of honour is not against con-
version,

" We may, I think, collect from what we
know of the ordinary feelings of men, that
by admitting all to a community of political
benefits, we should remove a material im-

pediment that now presents itrelf to the
advances of proselytism to our established
mode of worship; particularly assuming,
as we do, that it is the purest, and that the
disfranchised mode is supported only by
superstition and priestcraft. By external
pressure and restraint, things are compact-
ed as well in the moral as in the physical
world. Where a sect is at spiritual variance
with the Established Church, it only re-
quires an abridgment of civil privileges to
render it at once a political faction. Its
members become instantly pledged, some
from enthusiasm, some from resentment,
and many fttmi honourable shame, to cleave
with desperate fondness to the suffering
fortunes of an hereditary religion. Is this
hunum nature, or is it not P Is it a natural
or an unnatural feeling for the representa-
tive of an ancient Boman Catholic fkmily,
even if in his heart he rejected the contro-
verted tenets of his early faith, to scorn an
open conformity to ours, so long as such
conformity brings with it the irremovable
suspicion that faith and conscience may
have bowed to the base hope of temporal
advantage ? Every man must feel and act
for himself : but, in my opinion, a good man
might be put to difficulty to determuie
whether more harm is not done by the ex-
ample of one changing his religion to his
worldly advantage, than good, by his openly
professing conformity frY>m what we think
error to what we think truth.** — {Lord
Nugenff» Letter, pp. 6^ 65.)

" We will not be bullied out of the
Catholic question.** This is a very
common text, and requires some com-
ment. If you mean that the sense of
personal dagner shall never prevent
you from doing what you think right
— this is a worthy and proper feeling,
but no such motive is suspected, and
no such question is at issue. Nobody
doubts but that any English gentleman
would be ready to join his No Popery
corps, and to do his duty to the com-
munity, if the Government required
it I but the question is. Is it worth
while in the Government to require it ?
Is it for the general advantage that
such a war should be carried on for
such an object ? It is a question not
of personal valour, but of political
expediency. Decide seriously if it be
worth the price of civil war to exclude,
the Catholics, and act accordingly ;
taking it for granted that you possess,
and that everybody supposes you to

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

129

possess, the Tulgar attribute of personal
courage ; but do not draw your sword
like a fool, from the unfounded appre-
hension of being called a coward.

We hav^ great hopes of the Duke
of Clarence. Whatever else he may
be, he is not a bigot — not a person
who thinks it necessary to show respect
to his royal father, by prolonging the
miseries and incapacities of six mil-
lions of people. If he ascend the
throne of these realms, he must stand
the fire of a few weeks* tlamour and un-
popularity. If the measure be passed
by the end of May, we can promise
his Royal Highness it will utterly be
forgotten before the end of June. Of
all human nonsense, it is surely the
greatest to talk of respect to the late
king — respect to the memory of the
Dake of York — by not voting for the
Catholic question. Bad enough to
born widows when the husband dies —
bad enough to bum horses, dogs, but-
lers, footmen, and coachmen, on the
funeral pile of a Scythian warrior —
but to offer up the happiness of seven
millions of people to the memory of
the dead, is certainly the most insane
sepulchral oblation of which history
makes mention. The best compliment,
to these deceased princes, is to remem-
ber their real good qualities, and to
forget (as soon as we can forget it)
that these good qualities were tarnished
by limited and mistaken views of re-
ligious liberty. •

Persecuting gentlemen forget the
expense of persecution ; whereas, of
all luxuries, it is the most expensive.
The Banters do not cost us a farthing,
because they are not disqualified by
ranting. The Methodists and Unita-
rians are gratis. The Irish Catholics,
supposing every alternate yeai* to be
war, as it has been for the last century,
will cost us, within these next twenty
years, forty millions of money. There
are 20,000 soldiers there in time of
peace ; in war, including the militia,
their numbers will be doubled — and
there must be a very formidable fleet
in addition. Now, when the tax paper
comes round, and we are to make a
return of the greatest number of hor-
ecSf buggies, ponies, dogs, cats, buU-

VoL.IL

finches, and canary birds, &c., and to
be taxed accordingly, let us remember
how well and wisely our money has
been spent, and not repine that we
have piurchased, by severe taxation,
the high and exalted pleasures of in-
tolerance and persecution.

It is mere unsupported, and unsup-
portable nonsense, to talk of the ex-
clusive disposition of the Catholics to
persecute. The Protestants have mur-
dered, and tortured, and laid waste as
much as the Catholics. Each party,
as it gained the upper hand, tried
death as the remedy for heresy — both
parties have tried it in vain.

A distinction is set up between civil
rights and political power, and applied
against the Catholics : the real differ-
ence between these two words is, that
civil comes from a Latin word, and
political from a Greek one ; but if
there be any difference in their mean-
ing, the Catholics do not ask for poli-
tical power, but for eh'gibilitj/ to poli-
tical power. The Catholics have never
prayed, or dreamt of prajring, that so
many of the Judges and King's Coun-
sel should necessarily be Catholics ;
but that no law should exist which
prevented them from becoming so, if
a Protestant King chose to make them
so. Eligibility to political power is a
civil privilege, of which we have no
more right to deprive any man than
of any other civil privilege. The
good of the State may require that
all civil rights may be taken from
Catholics ; but to say that eligibility
to political power is not a civil right,
and that to take it away without grave
cause, would not be a gross act of
injustice, is mere declamation. Be-
sides, what is called political power,
and what are called civil rights, are
given or withholden, without the least
reference to any principle, but by mere
caprice. A right of voting is given —
thid is political power ; eligibility to
the office of Alderman or Bank Di-
rector is refused — this is a civil right :
the distinction is perpetually violated,
just as it has suited the state of parties
for the moment. And here a word or
two on the manner of handling the
question. Because some offices might

130

be filled with Catholics, all woald be:
this is one topic. A second is, be-
cause there might be inconvenience
from a Catholtc King or Chancellor,
that, therefore, there would be incon-
venience from Catholic Judges or
Sergeants. In talking of establish-
ments, they always take care to blend
the Iiish and English establishments^
and never to say which is meant,
though the circumstances of both
are as different as possible. It is
always presumed, that sects holding
opinions contrary to the Establish-
ment, are hostile to the Establishment;
meaning by the word hostile, that they
are combined, or ready 'to combine,
for its destruction* It is contended,
that the Catholics would not be satis-
fied by these concessions; meaning,
thereby, that many would not be so —
but forgetting to add, that n^ny would
be quite satisfied — all more satisfied,
and less likely to run into rebellion.
It is urged that the mass of Catho-
lics are indifferent to the question ;
whereas (never mind the cause) there
is not a Catholic plough-boy, at this
moment, who is not ready to risk his
life for it, nor a Protestant stable-boy,
who does not give himself airs of supe-
riority over any papistical cleaner of
horses, who is scrubbing with him
under the same roof.

The Irish were quiet under the
severe code of Queen Anne — so
the half-murdered man left on the
ground bleeding by thieves is quiet;
and he only moans, and cries for' help
as he recovers. There was a method
which would have made the Irish still
more quiet, and effectually have put
an end to all further solicitation
respecting the Catholic question. It
was adopted in the case of the wolves.

They are forming societies in Ire-
land for the encouragement of emi-
gration, and striving, and successfully
striving, to push their redundant po-
pulation into Great Britain. Our
business is to pacify Ireland — to
give confidence to capitalists — and
to keep their people where they are.
On the day the Catholic question was
passed, all property in Ireland would
rise 20 per cent.

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

Protestants admit that there are
sectaries sitting in Parliament, who
differ from the Church of England
as much as the Catholics; but it is for-
gotten that, according to the doctrine of
the Church of England, th^ Unitarians
are considered as condemned to eternal
punishment in another world — and
that many such have seats in Parlia-
ment. And can anything be more
preposterous (as far as doctrine has
any influence in these matters) than
that men, whom we believe to be
singled out as bbjects of God's eternal
vengeance, should have a seat in our
national councils ; and that Catholics,
whom we believe may be saved, should
not?

The only argument which has any
appearance of weighty is the question
of divided allegiance; and, generally
speaking, we should say it is the argu-
ment which produces the greatest effect
in the country at large. England, in
this respect, is in the same state, at
least, as the whole of Catholic Europe.
Is not the allegiance of every French, 4
every Spanish, and every Italian Ca^
tholic (who is not a Roman) divided ?
His king is in Paris, or Madrid, or
Naples, while his high-priest is at
Borne. We speak of it as an anomaly
in politics; whereas, it is the state, and
condition of almost the whole of Europe.
The danger of this divided allegiance,
they admit, is nothing as long as it is
confined to purely spiritual concerns;
but it may extend itself to temporal
matters, and so endanger the safety of
the State. This danger, however, is
greater in a Catholic than in a Protes-
tant country; not only on account of
the greater majority upon whom it
might act ; but because there are ob-
jects in a Catholic country much more
desirable, and attainable, than in a
country like England, where Popery
docs not exist, or Ireland, where it is
humbled, and impoverished. Take,
for instance, the freedom of the Gal-
ilean Church. What eternal disputes
did this object give birth to! What a
temptation to the Pope to infringe in
rich Catholic countries! How is it
possible his Holiness can keep his
hands from picking and stealing ? It

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

mast not be imagined that Catholicism
has been any defence against the hos-
tility and aggression of the Pope: he
has cursed and excommunicated every
Catholic State in Europe, in their turns.
Let that eminent IVotestant, Lord
Bathnrst, state any one instance where,
for the last century, the Pope has in-
terfered with the temporal concerns of
Great Britain^ We can mention, and
his Lordship will remember, innumer-
able instances where he might have
done so, if such were the modern habit
and policy of the Court of Bome.
Bat the fact is, there is no Court of
Eome, and no Pope. There is a wax-
work Pope, and a wax-work Court of
Rome. But Popes of flesh and blood
have long since disappeared ; and in
the same way, those great giants of
the city exist no more, but their trucu-
lent images are at Guildhall We
doubt if there is in the treasury of the
Pope, change for a guinea — we are
sure there is not in his armoury one
gun which will go off. We believe, if
he attempted to bless anybody whom
Br. Doyle cursed, or to curse anybody
vhom Dr. Doyle blessed, that his
blessings and curses would be as
powerless as his artillery. Dr. Doyle*
is the Pope of Ireland; and the ablest
ecclesiastic of that country will always
he its Pope — and that Lord Bathurst
ought to know — ^most likely does know.
But what a waste of life and time, to
combat such arguments! Can my
Lord Bathurst be ignorant? — can any
man, who has the slightest knowledge
of Ireland, be ignorant, that the port-
manteau which sets out every quarter
for Borne, and returns from it, is a heap
of ecclesiastical matters, which have no
more to do with the safety of the
country, than they have to do with the
safety of the moon — and which, but
for the respect to individual feelings,

* " Of this I can with great truth assure
you; and my testimony, if not entitled to
jespect, should not be utterly disregardecC
that Papal influence will never induce the
Catholics of this country either to continue
tranquil, or to be disturbed, either to aid
or to oppose the Government ; and that
your Lordship can contribute much more
than the Pope to secure their allegiance, or
to render them disaffected.**— (i>r. JDoyWs
■Uiter to Lord Liverpool, p. 115.)

131

might all be published at Charing
Cross ? Mrs. Flanagan, intimidated
by stomach complaints, wants a dis-
pensation for eating flesh. Cornelius
Oh Bowel has intermarried by accident
with his grandmother; and, finding
that she is really his grandmother, his
conscience is uneasy. Mr. Mac Todey^
the priest, is discovered to be married,
and to have two sons. Castor and
Pollux Mac Todey, Three or four
schooIs-fuU of little boys have been
cursed for going to hear a Methodist
preacher. Bargains for shirts and toe-
nails of deceased saints — surplices and
trencher-caps blessed by the Pope.
These are the fruits of double allegi-
ance-^ the objects of our incredible
fear, and the cause of our incredible
folly. There is not a syllable which
goes to or comes from the Court of
Bome, which, by a judiciousexpenditure
of sixpence by the year, would not be
open to the examination of every
Member of the Cabinet. Those who
use such arguments know the answer
to them as well as we do« The real
evil they dread is the destruction of
the Church of Ireland, and through
that, of the Church of England. To
which we reply, that such danger must
proceed from the regular proceedings
of Parliament, or be effected by insur-
rection and febellion. The Catholicsi,
restored to eivil functions, would, wc
believe, be more likely to cling to the
Church than to Dissenters. If not,
both Catholics and Dissenters must be
utterly powerless against the over-
whelming English interest and feel-
ings in the House. Men are less
inclined to run into rebellion, in pro-
portion as they have less to complain
of$ and, of all other dangers, the
greatest to the Irish and English
Church establishments, and to the
Protestant faith throughout Europe,
is to leave Ireland in its present state
of discontent,

If the intention is to wait to the last,
before concession is made, till the
French or Americans have landed,
and the Holy standard has been un-
furled, we ought to be sure of the
terms which can be obtained at su.'h
a crisis. This game was played in

K 2

132

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

America. Commissioners were sent
in one year to offer and to press what
would have been most thankfully re-
ceived the year before; bat they were
always too late. The rapid conces-
sions of England were outstripped by
the more rapid exactions of the colo-
nies; and the commissioners returned
with the melancholy history, that they
had humbled themselves before the
rebels in vain. If you ever mean to
concede at all, do it when every con-
cession will be received as a favour.
To wait till you are forced to treaty is
as mean in principle as it is dangerous
in effect.

Then, how many thousand Prolcstant
Dissenters are there who pay a double
allegiance to the King, and to the head
of their Church, who is not the King ?
Is not Mr. William Smith, member for
Norwich, the head of the Unitarian
Church ? Is not Mr. Wilberforce the
head of the Clapham Church ? Are
there not twenty preachers at Leeds,
who re(2:ulate all the proceedings of
the Methodists? The gentlemen we
have mentioned are eminent, and most
excellent men ; but if anything at all
is to be apprehended from this divided
allegiance, we should be infinitely more
afraid of some Jacobinical fanatic at
the head of Protestant votaries — some
man of such character as Lord George
Gordon — than we should of all the
efforts of the Pope.

As so much evil is supposed to pro-
ceed from not obeying the King as
head of the Church, it might be sup-
posed to be a very active office — that
the King was perpetually interfering
with the affairs of the Church — and
that orders were in a course of emana-
tion from the Throne, which regulated
the fervour, and arranged the devotion of
all the members of the Church of Eng-
land. But we really do not know what
orders are ever given by the King to
the Church, except the appointment of
a fast-day once in three or four years;
— nor can we conceive (for appoint-
ment to Bishoprics is out of the ques-
tion) what duties there would be to
perform, if this allegiance were paid,
instead of being withholden. Supre-
macy appears to us to be a mere name,

without exercise of power — and alle-
giance to be a duty, without any per-
formance annexed. If any one will
say what ought to be done which is
not done, on account of this divided
allegiance, we shall better understand
the magnitude of the eviL Till then,
we shall consider it as a lucky Protes-
tant phrase, good to look at, like the
mottos and ornaments dn cake, but not
fit to be eaten.

Nothing can be more unfair than to
expect, in an ancient church like that
of the Catholics, the same uniformity
as in churches which have not existed
for more than two or three centuries.
The coats and waistcoats of the reign
of Henry VIII. bear some resemblance
to the same garments of the present
day; but, as yon recede, you get to the
skins of wild beasts, or the fleeces of
sheep, for the garments of savages.
In the same way it is extremely difficult
for a church, which has to do with the
counsels of barbarous ages, not to be
detected in some discrepancy of opinion ;
while in younger churches, everything
is fair and fresh, and of modem dato
and figure ; and it is not the custom
among theologians to own their church,
in the wrong. " No religion can stand,
if men, without regard to their God,
and with regard only to controversy,
shall rake out of the rubbish of antiquity
the obsolete and quaint follies of the
sectarians, and affront the majesty of
the Almighty with the impudent cata-
logue of their devices ; and it is a
strong argument against the prescrip-
tive system, that it helps to continue
this shocking contest Theologian
against theologian, polemic against
polemic, until the two madmen defame
their common parent, and expose their
common relijrion." — {GrattarCs Speech
on the Catholic Question, 1805.)

A good-natured and well-conditioned
person has pleasure in keeping and dis-
tributing anything that is good. If he
detects anything with superior flavour,
he presses and invites, and is not easy
till others participate ; — and so it is
with political and religious freedom.
It is a pleasure to possess it, and a
pleasure to communicate it to others.
There is something shocking in the

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

greedy, growling, guzzling monopoly
of such a blessing.

France is no longer a nation of
atheists; and therefore, a great caase
of offence to the Irish Boman Catholic
clergy is removed. Navigation by
steam renders all shores more acces-
sible. The union among Catholics is
consolidated ; all the dangers of Ire-
land are redoubled ; everything seems
tending to an event fatal to England —
fatal (whatever Catholics may foolishly
imagine) to Ireland — and which will
sabject them both to the dominion of
France.

Formerly a poor man might be re-
moved from a parish if there was the
slightest danger of his becoming charge-
able; a hole in his coat or breeches
excited suspicion. The churchwardens
said, " He has cost us nothing, but he
nay cost us something ; and we must
not live even in the apprehension of
evil.*' «A11 this is changed ; and the
law now says, "Wait till you are hurt ;
time enough to meet the evil when it
comes; you have no right to do a
certain evil to others, to prevent an
uncertain evil to yourselves." The
Catholics, however, are told that what
they do ask is objected to, from the fear
of what they may ask ; that they must
do without that which is reasonable^
for fear they should ask what is un-
reasonable. " I would give you a
penny (says the miser to the beggar),
if I was quite sure you would not ask
me for half a crown."

"Nothing, I am told, is now so common
on the Continent as to hear our Irish po-
licy discussed. Till of late the extent of
the disabilities was but little understood,
and less r^gaa*ded, partly because, having
less liberty themselves, foreigners could not
appreciate the deprivations, and partly be-
cause the pre-eminence qf England was not
so decided as to draw the eyes of the world
on all parts of our system. It was scarcely
credited that England, that knight-errant
abroad, should play the exclusionist at
home ; that everywhere else she should de-
clam against oppression, but contemplate
it without emotion at her doors. That her
armies should march, and her orators phi-
lippise, and her poets sing against conti-
nental tyranny, and yet that laws should
Kmain extant, and principles be operative

133

within our gates, which are a bitter satire
on our philanthropy, and a melancholy ne-
gation of our professions. Our sentiments
have been so lofty, our deportment to fo-
reigners so haugh^, we have set up such
liberty and such morals, that no one could
suppose that we were hypocrites. Still less
could it be foreseen that as a great mora,
list, called Joseph Surface, kept a 'Little
MiUiner' behind the screen, we too should
be found out at length in taking the diver-
sion of private tyranny after the most
approved models for that amusement."—
{Letter to Lord Milton, pp. 50, 51.)

We sincerely hope — we firmly be-
lieve — it never will happen ; but if it
were to happen, why cannot England
be just as happy with Ireland being
Catholic, as it is with Scotland being
Presbyterian ? Has not the Church
of England lived side by side with the
Kirk, without crossing or jostling, for
these last hiindred years ? Have the
Presbyterian members entered into any
conspiracy for mincing Bishoprics and
Deaneries into Synods and Presby-
teries? And is not the Church of
England tenfold more rich and more
strong than when the separation took
place ? But however this may be, the
real danger, even to the Church of
Ireland, as we have before often re-
marked, is the refusal of Catholic
Emancipation.

It would seem, from the frenzy of
many worthy Protestants, whenever
the name of Catholic is mentioned,
that the greatest possible diversity of
religious opinions existed between the
Catholic and the Protestant — that they
were as different as fish and flesh — as
alkali and acid — as cow and cart-
horse; whereas it is quite clear, that
there are many Protestant sects whose
difference from each other is much
more marked, both in church discipline
and in tenets of faith, than that of
Protestants and Catholics. We main-
tain that Lambeth, in thes& two points,
is quite as near to the Vatican as it is
to the Kirk — if not much nearer.

Instead of lamenting the power of
the priests over the lower orders of the
Irish, we ought to congratulate our-
selves that any influence can effect or
control them. Is the tiger less for-
midable in the forest than when he has

K 3

134

been caught and taught to obeja voice,
and tremble at a hand ? But we over-
rate the power of the priest, if we
suppose that the upper orders are to
encounter all the dangers of treason
and rebellion, to confer the revenues of
the Protestant Church upon their
Catholic clergy. If the influence of
the Catholic clergy upon men of rank
and education is so unbounded, why
cannot the French and Italian clergy
recover their possessions, or acquire an
equivalent for them ? They are starving
in the full enjoyment of an influence
which places (as we think) all the
wealth and power of the country at
their feet — an influence which, in our
opinion, overpowers avarice, fear, am-
bition, and is the master of every passion
which brings on change and movement
in the Protestant world.

We conclude with a few words of
advice to the different opponents of the
Catholic question.

To the No-Popery Fool

You are made use of by men who
laugh at you, and despise you for your
folly and ignorance; and who, the
moment it suits their purpose, will
consent to emancipation of the Catho-
lics, and leave you to roar and bellow
No Popery I to Vacancy and the Moon.

CATHOLIC QUESTION.

To the No-Popery Rogue.
A shameful and scandalous game,
to sport with the serious interests of
the country, in order to gain some in-
crease of public power !

To the Holiest No-Popery People.
We respect you very sincerely — but
are astonished at your existence.

To the Base.

Sweet children of turpitude, beware !
the old anti-popery people are fa^t
perishing away. Take heed that you
are not surprised by an emancipating
king, or an emancipating administra-
tion. Leave a locus pcenitentice I —
prepare a place for retreat — get ready
your equivocations and denials. The
dreadful day may yet come, -when
liberality may lead to place and power.
We understand these matters here. It
is safest to be moderately base — to be
flexible in shame, and to be ^vrays
ready for what is generous, good, and
just, when anything is to be gained by
virtue.

To the Catholics.

Wait Do not add to your miseries
by a mad and desperate rebellion.
Persevere in civil exertions, and con-
cede all you can concede. All great
alterations in human affairs are pro-
duced by compromise.

NOTE.

Mr. Stdket Smith selected from the
Edinburgh Be view those articles he
had written, — with the exception of
twelve.

These were probably omitted, be-
cause their subjects are already treated
of in the extracted Articles, or, because
they applied only to the period in which
they were written*

As Mr. Sydney Smith made the se-
lection, it is therefore respected and
continued; but lest any intention of
disowning these omissions should be

inferred, their numbers are subjoin-
ed.*

After the year 1827, the Lord Chan-
cellor Lyndhurst, disregarding political
differences between himself and his
friend, presented Mr. Sydney Smith to
the Canonry of Bristol Cathedral. As
a Dignitary of the Church he then
ceased to write anonymously.

• Vol. i. No. S.; VoL iL No. 4; VoL in.
Nos. 12. and 7.; Vol. xii. No. 6.; Vol. xvi.
No. 7. ; Vol. xvii. No. 4. ; Vol. xxilL No. «. •
Vol. xzxiv. Nos. 6. and 8.; Vol. xxxvii. No.
2. ; and Vol. xl. No. 2.

LETTERS

ON THB SUBJECT Or

THE CATH L I C S

TO

MY BROTHER ABRAHAM

WHO LIVES IN THE COUNTET.

BY PETER PLYMLEY.

LETTER I.

Dear Abraham,
A WORTHIER and better man than
yoarself does not exist ; but I have
always told you from the time of our
bojrfaood, that you were a bit of a
goose. Your parochial affairs are gov-
erned with exemplary order and regu-
larity; you are as powerful in the
Testry as Mr. Perceval is in the House
of Commons, — and, I must say, with
much more reason; nor do I know
any church where the faces and smock-
frocks of the congregation are so clean,
or their eyes so unifbrmly directed to
the preacher. There is another point,
upon which I will do yon ample jus-
tice ; and that is, that the eyes so di<
rected towards you are wide open ; for
tbe rustic has, in general, good prin-
ciples, though he cannot control his an-
imal habits ; and, however loud he may
snore, his face is perpetually turned
toward the fountain of orthodoxy.

Having done you this act of justice,
I shall proceed, according to our an-
cient intimacy and familiarity, to
explain to you my opinions about the
Catholics, and to reply to yours.

In the first place, my sweet Abra-
ham, the Pope is not landed — nor
are there any curates sent out after
him — nor has he been hid at St. Al-
ban's by the Dowager Lady Spencer
— nor dined privately at Holland
House — ^nor been seen near Dropmore.
If these fears exist (which I do not
believe), they exist only in the mind
of the Chancellor of the Exchequer ;
they emanate from his zeal for the
Protestant interest ; and, though they
reflect the highest honour upon the
delicate irritability of his faith, must
certainly be considered as more am-
biguous proofs of the sanity and vigour
of his understanding. By this time,
however, the best informed clergy in
the neighbourhood of the metropolis
are convinced that the rumour is with-
out foundation : and, though the Pope
is probably hovering about our coast
in a fishing smack, it is most likely he
will fall a prey to the vigilance of our
cruisers ; and it is certain he has not
yet polluted the Protestantism of our
soiL

Exactly in the same manner, the
story of the wooden gods seized at
Charing Cross, by an order from the

K 4

1-

136

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTER&

Foreign Office, turns ont to be without
the shadow of a foundation : instead
of the angels and archangels, men-
tioned by the informer, nothing was
discovered but a wooden image of
Lord Mulgrave, going down to Chat-
ham, as a head-piece for the Spanker
gun-vessel: it was an exact resem-
blance of his Lordship in his military
uniform ; and therefore as little like a
god as can well be imagined.

Having set your fears at rest, as to
the extent of the conspiracy formed
against the Protestant religion, I will
now come to the argument itself.

You say these men interpret the
Scriptures in an unorthodox manner,
and that they eat their God. — Very
likely. All this may seem very im-
portant to you, who live fourteen miles
from a market town, and, from long
residence upon your living, are become
a kind of holy vegetable ; and, in a
theological sense, it is highly impor-
tant. But I want soldiers and sailors
for the state ; I want to make a greater
use than I now can do of a poor coun-
try full of men ; I want to render the
military service popular among the
Irish ; to check the power of France j
to make every possible exertion for the
safety of Europe, which in twenty
years* time will be nothing but a mass
of French slaves : and then you, and
ten other such boobies as you, call out
— ** For God*s sake, do not think of
raising cavalry and infantry in Ireland !
.... They interpret the Epistle to
Timothy in a different manner from
what we do ! . ... They eat a bit of
wafer every Sunday, which they call
their God !"....! wish to my soul
they would eat you, and such reasoners
as yjou are. What! when Turk, Jew,
Heretic, Infidel, Catholic, Protestant,
are all combined against this country ;
when men of every religious persua-
sion, and no religious persuasion ; when
the population of half the globe is up
in arms against us ; are we to stand
examining our generals and armies as
a bishop examines a candidate for holy
orders ? and to suffer no one to bleed
for England who does not agree with
you about the 2nd of Timothy ? You
talk about Catholics ! If you and your

brotherhood have been able to persuade
the country into a continuation of this
grossest of all absurdities, you have
ten times the power which the Catholic
clergy ever had in their best days.
Louis XIY., when he revoked the
Edict of Nantes, never thought of pre-
venting the Protestants from fighting
his battles ; and gained accordingly
some of his most splendid victories by
the talents of his Protestant generals.
No power in Europe, but yourselves,
has ever thought for these hundred
years past, of asking whether a bayonet
is Catholic, or Presbyterian, or Lu-
theran; but whether it is sharp and
well-tempered. A bigot delights in
public ridicule ; for he begins to think
he is a martyr. I can promise you the
fuU enjoyment of this pleasure, from
one extremity of Europe to the other.

I am as disgusted with the nonsense
of the Boman Catholic religion as you
can be : and no man who talks such
nonsense shall ever tithe the product
of the earth, nor meddle with the ec-
clesiastical establishment in any shape;
— but what have I to do with the
speculative nonsense of his theology,
when the object is to elect the mayor
of a county town, or to appoint a
colonel of a marching regiment ? Will
a man discharge the solemn imperti-
nences of the one office with less zeal,
or shrink from the blood v boldness of
the other with greater timidity, because
the blockhead believes in all the Catho-
lic nonsense of the real presence ? I
am sorry there should be such impious
folly in the world, but I should be ten
times a greater fool than he is, if I
refused, in consequence of his folly, to
lead him out against the enemies of
the state. Your whole argument is
wrong : the state has nothing whatever
to do with theological errors which do
not violate the conunon rules of moral-
ity, and militate against the fair power
of the ruler; it leaves all these errors
to you, and to such as you. You have
every tenth porker in your parish for
refuting them ; and take care that you
are vigilant, and logical in the task.

I love the Church as well as you do ;
but you totally mistake the nature of
an establishment, when you contend

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

137

that it ought to be connected with the
military and civil career of every indi-
vidual in the state. It is qaite right
that there should be one clergyman to
every parish interpreting the Scriptures
after a particular manner, ruled by a
regular hierarchy, and paid with a rich
proportion of haycocks and wheat-
sheafs. When I have laid this foun-
dation for a rational religion in the
8tate— when I have placed ten thousand
well educated men in different parts of
the kingdom to preach it up, and com-
peljed everybody to pay them, whether
they hear tiiem or not — I have taken
such measures as I know must always
procure an immense majority in favour
of the Established Church ; but I can
go no farther. I cannot set up a civil
inquisition, and say to one, you shall
not be a butcher, because you are not
orthodox ; and prohibit another from
brewing, and a third from administer-
ing the law, and a fourth from defend-
ing the country. If common justice
did not prohibit me from such a
conduct, common sense would. The
advantage to be gained by quitting
the heresy would make it shameful to
abandon it; and men who had once
left the Church would continue in such
a state of alienation from a point of
honour, and transmit that spirit to the
latest posterity. This is just the effect
your disqualifying laws have produced.
They have fed Dr. Rees, and Dr. Kip-
pis ; crowded the congregation of the
Old Jewry to suffocation ; and enabled
every sublapsarian, and superlapsarian,
and semi-pelagian clergyman, to build
himself a neat brick chapel, and live
with some distant resemblance to the
state of a gentleman.

You say the King's coronation oath
will not allow him to consent to any
relaxation of the Catholic laws. — Why
not relax the Catholic laws as well as
the laws against Protestant dissenters?
If one is contrary to his oath, the other
most be so too ; for the spirit of the
oath is, to defend the Church establish-
ment, which the Quaker and the Pres-
byterian differ from as much or more
than the Catholic ; and yet his Majesty
has repealed the Corporation and Test
Act in Ireland, and done more for the

Catholics of both kingdoms than had
been done for them since the Reforma-
tion. In 1778, the ministers said
nothing about the royal conscience ;
in 1793* no conscience; in 1804 no
conscience ; the common feeling of
humanity and justice then seem to
have had their fullest influence upon
the advisers of the Crown : but in
1807 — a year, I suppose, eminently
fruitful in moral and religious scruples
(as some years are fruitful in apples,
some in hops) — it is contended by the
well-paid John Bowles, and -by Mr.
Perceval (who tried to be well paid),
that that is now perjury which we had
hitherto called policy and benevolence!
Religious liberty has never made
such a stride as under the reign of his
present Majesty ; nor is there any
instance in the annals of our history,
where so many infamous and damna-
ble laws have been repealed as those
against the Catholics which have been
put an end to by him : and then, at
the close of this useful policy, his
advisers discover that the very mea*
sures of concession and indulgence,
or (to use my own language) the mea-
sures of justice, which he has been
pursuing through the whole of his
reign, are contrary to the oath he takes
at its commencement! That oath binds
his Majesty not to consent to any mea-
sure contrary to the' interest of the
Established Church : but who is to
judge of the tendency of each par-
ticular measure ? Not the King alone :
it can never be the intention pf this
law that the Eling, who listens to the
advice of his Parliament upon a road
bill, should reject it upon the most
important of all measures. Whatever
be his own private judgment of the
tendency of any ecclesiastical bill, he
complies most strictly with his oath,
if he is guided in that particular point
by the advice of his Parliament, who
may be presumed to understand its
tendency better than the King, or any
other individual. You say, if Parlia-
ment had been unanimous in their

* These feelings of humanity and justice
were at some periods a little quickened by
the representations of 40,000 armed volun-
teers.

138

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

opiDion of the absolate necessity for
Lord Howick*8 bill, and the King had
thought it pernicious, he would have
been perjured if he had not rejected
it. I saj, on the contrary, his Majesty
would have acted in the most consci-
entious manner, and have complied
most scrupulously with his oath, if he
had sacrificed his own opinion to the
opinion of the great council of the
nation ; because the probability was
that such opinion was better than his
own : and upon the same principle, in
common life, you give up your opinion
to your physician, your lawyer, and
your builder.

You admit this bill did not compel
the King to elect Catholic officers, but
only gave him the option of doing so
if he pleased ; but you add, that the
King was right in not trusting such
dangerous power to himself or his
successors. Now you are either to
suppose that the King for the time
being has a zeal for the Catholic es-
tablishment, or that he has not If he
has not, where is the danger of giving
such an option ? If you suppose that
he may be influenced by such an admi-
ration of the Catholic religion, why did
his present Majesty, in the year 1804,
consent to that bill which empowered
the Crown to station ten thousand
Catholic soldiers in any part of the
Idngdom, and placed them absolutely
at the disposal of the Crown ? If the
King of England for the time being is
a good Protestant, there can be no
danger in making the Catholic eligible
to anything : if he is not, no power
can possibly be so dangerous as that
conveyed by the bill last quoted ; to
which, in point of peril, Lord Howick's
bill is a mere joke. But the real fact
is, one bill opened a door to his Ma-
jesty's advisers for trick, jobbing, and
intrigue ; the other did not.

Brides, what folly to talk to me of
an oath, which, under all possible cir-
cumstances, is to prevent the relaxation
of the Catholic laws I for such a solemn
appeal to God sets all conditions and
contingencies at defiance. Suppose
Bonaparte was to retrieve the only
very great blunder he has made, and
were to succeed, after repeated trials,

in making an impression upon Ireland,
do you think we should hear anything
of the impediment of a coronation
oath? or would the spirit of this coun-
try tolerate for an hour such ministers,
and such unheard-of nonsense, if the
most distant prospect existed of con-
ciliating the Catholics by every sx)ecie8
even of the most abject concession ?
And yet, if your argument is good for
anything, the coronation oath ought
to reject, at such a moment, every ten-
dency to conciliation, and to bind Ire-
land for ever to the crown of France.

I found in your letter the usual
remarks about fire, fagot, and bloody
Mary. Are you aware, my dear Priest,
that there were as many persons put
to death for religious opmions under
the mild Elizabeth as under the bloody
Mary? The reign of the former was,
to be sure, ten times as long, but I only
mention the fact, merely to show you
that something depends upon the age
in which men live, as well as on their
religious opinions. Three hundred
years ago,lnen burnt and hanged each
other for these opinions. Time has
softened Catholic as well as Protestant :
they both required it ; though each
perceives only his own improvement,
and is blind to that of the other. We
are all the creatures of circumstances.
I know not a kinder and better man
than yourself ; but you (if you had
lived in those times) would certainly
have roasted your Catholic : and I
promise you, if the first exciter of this
religious mob had been as powerful
then as he is now, you would soon
have been elevated to the mitre. I do
not go to the length of saying that the
world has suffered as much from Pro-
testant as from Catholic persecution ;
far from it : but you should remember
the Catholics had all the power, when
the idea first started up in the world
that there could be two modes of faith;
and that it was much more natural
they should attempt to crush this di-
versity of opinion by g^eat and cruel
efibrts, than that the Protestants should
rage against those who differed from
them, when the very basis of their
system was conlplete freedom in all
spiritual matters.

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERS.

139

I cannot extend my letter any far-
ther at present, bnt jou shall soon bear
from me again. Yoa tell me I am a
party man. I hope I shall always be
80,ivhen I see my country in the hands
of a pert London joker and a second-
rate kwyer. Of the first, no other
good is known than that he makes
pretty Latin yerses ; the second seems
to me to have the head of a coun-
try parson, and the tongue of an Old
Bailey lawyer.

If I could see good measures pur-
sued, I care not a farthing who is in
power; but I have a passionate love
for common justice, and for common
sense, and I abhor and despise every
man who builds up his political fortune
upon their ruin.

God bless you, reverend Abraham,
and defend you from the Pope, and
all of ns fix)m that administration who
seek power by opposing a measure
which Burke, Pitt, and Fox all con-
sidered as absolutely necessary to the
existence of the country.

LETTER n.

Bear Abraham,

The Catholic not respect an oath !
why not ? What upon earth has kept
him out of Parliament, or excluded
him from all the offices whence he is
excluded, but his respect for oaths?
There is no law which prohibits a
Catholic to sit in Parliament There
could be no such law ; because it is
impossible to find out what passes in
the interior of any man's mind. Sup-
pose it were in contemplation to ex-
clude all men from certain offices who
contended for the legality of taking
tithes : the only mode of discovering
that fervid love of decimation which I
know you to possess would be to tender
yon an oath against that damnable
doctrine, that it is lawful for a spiritual
man to take, abstract, appropriate,
subduct, or lead away the tenth calf,
sheep, lamb, ox, pigeon, duck, &c.
&c. &c, and every other animal that
ever existed, which of course the law-
yers would take care to enumerate.
Now this oath I am sure you would

rather die than take ; and so the Catho-
lic is excluded from Parliament because
he will not swear that he disbelieves the
leading doctrines of his religion I The
Catholic asks you to abolish some
oaths which oppress him ; your answer
is, that he does not respect oaths. Then
why subject him to the test of oaths ?
The oaths keep him out of Parliament;
why, then, he respects them. Turn
which way you will, either your laws
are nugatory, or the Catholic is bound
by religious obligations as you are:
but no eel in the well-sanded fist of a
cook-maid, upon the eve of being
skinned, ever twisted and writhed as
an orthodox parson does when he is
compelled by the gripe of reason to
admit anything in favour of a Dis-
senter.

I will not dispute with yon whether
the Pope be or be not the Scarlet Lady
of Babylon. I hope it is not so; be-
cause I am afraid it will induce his
Majesty's Chancellor of the Exchequer
to introduce several severe bills against
popery, if that is the case; and though
he will have the decency to appoint a
previous committee of inquiry as to
the fact, the committee will be garbled
and the report inflammatory. Leaving
this to be settled as he pleases to settle
it, I wish to inform you, that previously
to the bill last passed in favour of the
Catholics, at the suggestion of Mr. Pitt,
and for his satisfaction, the opinions
of six of the most celebrated of
the foreign Catholic universities were
taken as to the right of the Pope to
interfere in the temporal concerns of
any country. The answer cannot pos-
sibly leave the shadow of a doubt, even
in the mind of Baron Maseres; and
Dr. Rennel would be compelled to
admit it, if three Bishops lay dead at
the very moment the question were
put to him. To this answer might be
added also the solemn declaration
and signature of all the Catholics in
Great Britain.

I should perfectly agree with you,
if the Catholics admitted such a dan-
gerous dispensing power in the hands
of the Pope ; but they all deny it, and
laugh at it, and are ready to abjure it
in the most decided manner you can

140

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERS.

devise. They obey the Pope as the
spiritual head of their church ; but are
you really so foolish as to be imposed
upon by mere names ? — What matters
it the seven thousandth part of a far-
thing who is the spiritual head of any
church ? Is not Mr. Wilberforce at
the head of the church of Clapham ?
Is not Dr. Letsom at the head of the
Quaker church ? Is not the General
Assembly at the head of the church of
Scotland? How is the government dis-
turbed by these many-headed churches?
or in what way is the power of the
Crown augmented by this almost no-
minal dignity?

The King appoints a fast day once
a year, and lie makes the Bishops : and
if the government would take half the
pains to keep the Catholics out of the
arms of France that it does to widen
Temple Bar, or improve Snow Hill,
the King would get into his hands the
appointments of the titular Bishops of
Ireland. — ^Both Mr. C *s sisters en-
joy pensions more than sufScient to
place the two greatest dignitaries of
the Irish Catholic Church entirely at
the disposal of the Crown. — ^Every-
body who knows Ireland knows per-
fectly well, that nothing would be
easier, with the expenditure of a little
money, than to preserve enough of the
ostensible appointment in the hands of
the Pope to satisfy the scruples of the
Catholics, while the real nomination
remained with the Crown. But, as I
have before said, the moment the very
name of Ireland is mentioned, the
English seem to bid adieu to conunon
feeling, common prudence, and common
sense, and to act with the barbarity of
tyrants, and the fatuity of idiots.

Whatever your opinion may be of
the follies of the Roman Catholic re-
ligion, remember they are the follies
of four millions of human beings, in-
creasing rapidly in numbers, wealth,
and intelligence, who, if firmly united
with this country, would set at defiance
the power of France, and if once
wrested from iheir alliance with Eng-
land, would in three years render its
eiustence as an independent nation
absolutely impossible. -You speak of
danger to the Establishment : I request

to know when the Establishment was
ever so much in danger as when Hoche
was in Bantry Bay, and whether all the
books of BoiBSuet, or the arts of the
Jesuits, were half so terrible? Mr.
Perceval and his parsons forgot all
thisj in their horror lest twelve or four-
teen old women may be converted to
holy water, and Catholic nonsense.
They never see that, while they are
saving these venerable ladies from per-
dition, Ireland may be lost, England
broken down, and the Protestant
Church, with all its deans, preben-
daries, Percevals and Rennels, be swept
into the vortex of oblivion.

Do not, I beseech you, ever mention
to me again the name of Dr. Duigenan.
I have been in every comer of Ireland,
and have studied its present strength
and condition with no common labour.
Be assured Ireland does not contain at
this moment less than five millions of
people. There were returned in the
year 1791 to the hearth tax 701,000
houses, and there is no kind of question
that there were about 50,000 houses
omitted in that return. Taking, how-
ever, only the number returned for the
tax, and allowing the average of six to
a house (a very small average for a
potato-fed people), this brings the popu-
lation to 4,200,000 people in the year
1791: and it can be shown from the
clearest evidence (and Mr. Newenham
in his book shows it), that Ireland for
the last fifty years has increased in its
population at the rate of 50,000 or
60,000 per annum ; which leaves the
present population of Ireland at about
five millions, after every possible de-
duction for existing drcumatances^ just
and necessary wars, monstrous and «n-
natnral rebellions^ and all other sources
of human destruction. Of this popu-
lation, two out of ten are Protestants ;
and the half of the Protestant popula-
tion are Dissenters, and as inimiad to
the Church as the Catholics themselves.
In this state of things, thumbscrews
and whipping — admirable engines of
policy, as they must be considered to
be — will not ultimately avail. The
Catholics will hang over you ; they
will watch for the moment, and compel
you hereafter to give them ten times as

PETER PLTMLETS LETTERS.

141

mach, against jonr will, as they would
now be contented with, if it were
voluntarily surrendered. Remember
what happened in the American war ;
when Ireland compelled you to give
her eTerything she asked, and to re-
noance, in the most explicit manner,
your claim of sovereignty over her.
God Almighty grant the folly of these
present men may not bring on such
another crisis of public affairs!

What are your dangers which
threaten the Establishment ? — Reduce
this declamation to a point, and let us
understand what you mean. The most
ample allowance does not calculate
that there would be more than twenty
members who were Roman Catholics
in one house, and ten in the other, if
the Catholic emancipation were carried
into effect. Do you mean that these
thirty members would bring in a bill
to take away the tithes from the Pro-
testant, and to pay them to the Catholic
clergy ? Do you mean that a Catholic
general would march his army into
the House of Commons and purge it
of Mr. Perceval and Dr. Duigenan ?
or, that the theological writers would
become all of a sndden more acute
and more learned, if the present civil
incapacities were removed ? Do you
fear for your tithes, or your doctrines,
or your person, or the English Consti-
tution ? Every fear, taken separately,
is so glaringly absurd, that no man has
the folly or the boldness to slate it.
Every one conceals his ignorance, or
his baseness, in a stupid general panic,
which, when Called on, he is utterly
incapable of explaining. "Whatever
you think of the Catholics, there they
are — you cannot get rid of them ; your
alternative is, to give them a lawful
place for stating their grievances, or an
unlawful one : if you do not admit
them to the House of Commons, they
will hold their parliament in Potato-
place, Dublin, and be ten times as
violent and inflammatory as they would
^ in Westminster. Nothing would
give me such an idea of securitv, as to
see twenty or thirty Catholic gentlemen
in Parliament, looked upon by all the
Catholics as the fair and proper organ
of their party. I should have thought

it the height of good fortune that such
a wish existed on their part, and the
very essence of madness and ignorance
to reject it Can you murder the
Catholics? — Can you neglect them?
They are too numerous for both these
expedients. What remains to done is
obvious to every human being — but to
that man who, instead of being a Me-
thodist preacher, is, for the curse of us
and our children, and for the ruin of
Troy, and the misery of good old
Priam and his sons, become a legislator
and a politician.

A distinction, I perceive, is taken,
by one of the most feeble noblemen in
Great Britain, between persecution and
the deprivation of political power ;
whereas there is no more distinction
between these two things than there is
between him who makesthe distinction
and a booby. If I strip off the relic-
covered jacket of a Catholic, and give
him twenty stripes .... I persecute :
if I say, Everybody in the town where
you l)ve shall be a candidate for lucra-
tive and honourable offices but you,
who are a Catholic .... I do not
persecute ! — What barbarous nonsense
is this ! as if degradation was not as
great an evil 'as bodily pain, or as
severe poverty: as if I could not be as
great a tyrant by saying. You shall
not enjoy — as by saying. You shall
suffer. The English, I believe, are as
truly religious as any nation in Europe;
I know no greater blessing: but it
carries with it this evil in its train —
that any villain who will bawl out
" The Church is in danger t " may get
a place and a good pension ; and that
any administration who will do the
same thing may bring a set of men
into power who, at a moment of sta-
tionary and passive piety, would be
hooted by the very boys in the streets.
But it is not all religion ; it is, in great
part, the narrow and exclusive spirit
which delights to keep the common
blessings of sun, and air, and freedom,
from other human beings. ** Your re-
ligion has always been degraded ; you
are in the dust, and I will take care
you never rise again. I should enjoy
less the possession of an earthly good,
by every additional person to whom it

142

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTER&

was extended.'* You may not be aware
of it yourself, most reverend Abraham,
but you deny their freedom to the
Catholics upon the same principle that
Sarah your wife refuses to give the
receipt for a ham or a gooseberry
dumpling : she values her receipts, not
because they secure to her a certain
flavour, but because they remind her
that her neighbours want it : — a feeling
laughable in a priestess, shameful in a
priest; venial when it withholds the
blessings of a ham, tyrannical and
execrable when it narrows the boon of
reli^ous freedom.

You spend a great deal of ink about
the character of the present prime
minister. Grant you all that you
write — I say, I fear he will ruin Ireland,
and pursue a line of policy destructive
to the true interest of his country: and
then you tell me, he is faithful to Mrs.
Perceval, and kind to the Master Per-
cevals! These are, undoubtedly, the
first qualifications to be looked to in a
time of the most serious public danger;
but somehow or another (if public and
private virtues must always be incom-
patible), I should prefer that he des-
troyed the domestic happiness of Wood
or Cockell, owed for the veal of the
preceding year, whipped his boys, and
saved his country.

The late administration did not do
right; they did not build their measures
upon the solid basis of facts. They
should have caused several Catholics
to have been dissected after death by
surgeons of either religion, and the re-
port to have been published with ac-
companying plates. If the viscera, and
other organs of life, had been found to
be the same as in Protestant bodies; if
the provisions of nerves, arteries, cere-
brum, and cerebellum, had been the
same as we are provided with, or as
the Dissenters are now known to
possess; then, indeed, they might have
met Mr. Perceval upon a proud emi-
nence, and convinced the country at
large of the strong probability that the
Catholics are really human creatures,
endowed with the feelings of men, and
entitled to all their rights. But instead
of this wise and prudent measure, Lord
Howick, with his usual precipitation,

brings forward a bill in their favour,
without offering the slightest proof to
the country that they were anything
more than horses and oxen. The per-
son who shows the lama at the corner
of Piccadilly has the precaution to
write up — Allowed by Sir Joseph Banks
to be a real qmuiruped: so his Lordship
might have said — AUowed by the Bench
of ^ishops to be reed human creatures

I could write you twenty letters

upon this subject ; but I am tired, and
so I suppose are you. Our friendship
is now of forty years' standing: yon
know me to be a truly religious man ;
but I shudder to see religion treated
like a cockade, or a pint of beer, and
made the instrument of a party. I love
the King, but I love the people as well
as the King ; and if I am sorry to see
his old age molested, I am much more
sorry to see four millions of Catholics
baffled in Uieur just expectations. If I
love Lord Grenville and Lord Howick,
it is because they love their country :
if I abhor ♦♦***♦, it is because I
know there is but one man among them
who is not laughing at the enormous
folly and credulity of the country, and
that he is an ignorant and mischievous
bigot. As for the light and frivolous
jester of whom it is your misfortune to
think so highly— learn, my dear Abra-
ham, that this political Eilligrew, just
before the breaking-up of the last ad-
ministration, was in actual treaty with
them for a place; and if they had
survived twenty-four hours longer, he
would have been now declaiming
against the cry of No Popery! instead
of inflaming it. — With this practical
comment on the baseness of human
nature, I bid you adieu !

LETTER IIL

All that I have so often told yon,
Mr. Abraham Plymley, is now come
to pass. The Scythians, in whom you
and the neighbouring country gentle-
men placed such confidence, are smit-
ten hip and thigh; their Benningsen
put to open shame ; their magazines of
train oil intercepted — and we are wak-
ing from our disgraceful drunkenness

PETER PLYMLEyS LETTERS.

143

to all the horrors of Mr. Perceval and
Mr. Canning. . . . We shall now see
if a nation is to be saved by school-boy
jokes and doggerel rhymes, by affront-
ing petulance, and by the tones and
gesticulations of Mr. Pitt. Bat these
are not all the auxiliaries on which we
have to depend ; to these his colleague
will add the strictest attention to the
smaller parts of ecclesiastical govern-
ment—to hassocks, to psalters, and to
surplices ; in the last agonies of Eng-
land, he will bring in a bill to regulate
Easter-offerings ; and he will adjust
the stipends of curates * when the flag
of France is unfurled on the hills of
Kent. Whatever can be done by very
mistaken notions of the piety of a
Christian, and by very wretched imita-
tion of the eloquence of Mr. Pitt, will
be done by these two gentlemen. After
all, if they both really were what they
both either wish to be or wish to be
thought; if the one were an enlighten-
ed Christian, who drew from the Gospel
the toleration, the charity, and the
sweetness which it contains ; and if
the other really possessed any portion
of the great understanding of his Nisus
who guarded him from the weapons of
the Whigs ; I should still doubt if they
could save us. But I am sure we are
not to be saved by religious hatred and
bjreligious trifling ; by any psalmody,
however sweet ; or by any /persecution,
however shai'p : I am certain the sounds
of Mr. Pitt's voice, and the measure of
his tones, and the movement of his
arms, wiU do nothing for us; when
these tones, and movements, and voice
bring us always declamation without
sense or knowledge, and ridicule with-
out good humour or conciliation. Oh,
Mr. Plymley, Mr. Plymley I this never
will do. Mrs. Abraham Plymley, my
sister, will be led away captive by an
amorous Gaul; and Joel Plymley,
your first-bom, will be a French drum-
mer.

" Out of sight, out of mind," seems
to be a proverb which applies to ene-
mies as well as friends. Because the

* The Eeverend the Chancellor of the
Exchequer has, since this was written,
found time in the heat of the session to
write a book on the Stipends of Curates.

French army was no longer seen from
the cliffs of Dover ; because the sound
of cannon was no longer heard by the
debauched London bather's on the
Sussex coast; because the Morning
Post no longer fixed the invasion some-
times for Monday, sometimes for Tues-
day, sometimes (positively for the last
time of invading) on Saturday; be-
cause all these causes of terror were
suspended, you conceived the power of
Bonaparte to be at an end, and were
setting off" for Paris, with Lord Hawkes-
bury the conqueror. — This is pre-
cisely the method in which the English
have acted during the whole of the
revolutionary war. If Austria or Prus-
sia armed, doctors of divinity immedi-
ately printed those passages out of
Habakkuk in which the destruction of
the Usurper by General Mack and the
Duke of Brunswick is so clearly pre-
dicted. If Bonaparte halted, there
was a mutiny, or a dysentery. If any
one of his generals was eaten up by
the light troops of Russia, and picked
(as their manner is) to the bone, the
sanguine spirit of this country dis-
played itself in all its glory. What
scenes of infamy did the Society for
the Suppression of Vice lay open to
our astonished eyes I tradesmen's
daughters dancing ; pots of beer car-
ried out between the first and second
lesson ; and dark and distant rumours
of indecent prints. Clouds of Mr.
Canning's cousins arrived by the wag-
gon ; aU the contractors left their cards
with Mr. Rose ; and every plunderer
of the public crawled out of his hole,
like slugs, and grubs, and worms, after
a shower of rain.

If my voice could have been heard
at the late changes, I should have said,
*' Gently ; patience ; stop a little ; the
time is not yet come ; the mud of
Poland will harden, and the bowels of
the French grenadiers will recover
their tone. When honesty, good sense,
and liberality have extricated you out
of your present embarrassment, then
dismiss them as a matter of course ;
but you cannot spare them just now.
Don't be in too great a hurry, or there
will be no monarch to flatter and no
country to pillage. Only submit for a

144

PETER PLT1ILE7S LETTER&

little time to be respected abroad ; over-
look the painful absence of the tax-
gatherer for a few years; bear np nobly
under the increase of freedom and of-
liberal policy for a little time, and I
promise you, at the expiration of that
period, yon shall be plundered, insulted,
disgraced, and restrained to your heart's
content. Do not imagine I have any
intention of putting servility and cant-
ing hypocrisy permanently out of place,
or of filling up with courage and sense
those ofSces which naturally devolve
upon decorous imbecility and flexible
cunning: give us only a little time to
keep off the hussars of France, and
then the jobbers and jesters shidl re-
turn to their birthright, and public
virtue be called by its own name of
fanaticisnu" * Such is the advice I
would have offered to my infatuated
countrymen ; bat it rained veiy hard
in November, Brother Abraham, and
the bowels of our enemies were loos-
ened, and we put our trust in white
fluxes and wet mud ; and there is no-
thing now to oppose to the conqueror of
the world but a small table wit, and
the sallow Surveyor of the Meltings.

You ask me, if I think it possible
for this country to survive the recent
misfortunes of Europe? — I answer you,
without the slightest degree of hesita-
tion : that if Bonaparte lives, and a
great deal is not immediately done for
the conciliation of the Catholics, it does
seem to me absolutely impossible but
that we must perish ; and take this with
you, that we shall perish without ex-
citing the slightest feeling of present
or future compassion, but fall amidst
the hootings and revilings of Europe,
as a nation of blockheads, Methodists,
and old women. If there were any

* This is Mr. Canning's term for the de-
tection of public abuses; a term invented
by him, and adopted by that simious para*
site who is always grmiiin^ at his heels.
Nature descends down to mflnite small-
ness. Mr. Canning has his parasites ; and
if you take a large buzzing blue-bottle fly,
and look at it in a microscope, you may see
20 or 30 little Ugly insects crawling about
it, which doubtless think their fl^ to be the
bluest, grandest, merriest, most important
animal in the universe, and are convinced
the world woiild be at an end if it ceased to
buzz.

great sceneiy, and heroic feelings, any
blaze of ancient Tirtne, any exalted
death, any termination of England that
would be ever remembered, ever hon-
oured in that western world, whsre
liberty is now retiring, conquest would
be more tolerable, and ruin more sweet;
but it is doubly miserable to become
slaves abroad, because we would be
tyrants at home; to persecute, when
we are contending against persecution;
and to perish, because we have raised
up worse enemies within, from our own
bigotry, than we are exposed to with-
out, from the unprincipled ambition of
France. It is, indeed, a most silly and
affecting spectacle to rage at such a
moment against our own kindred and
our own blood ; to tell them they can-
not be honourable in war, because thej
are conscientious in religion; to stipu-
late (at the very moment when we
should buy their hearts and swords at
any price) that they must hold up the
right hand in prayer, and not the left;
and adore one common God, by tam-
ing to the east rather than to the west.

What is it the Catholics ask of you?
Do not exclude us from the honours
and emoluments of the state, because
we worship God in one way, and you
worship him in another. In a period
of the deepest peac^ and the fattest
prosperity, this would be a fair request:
it should be granted, if Lord Hawkes-
bury had reached Paris, if Mr. Can-
ning's interpreter had threatened the
Senate in an opening Speech, or Mr.
Perceval explained to them the im-
provements he meant to introduce into
the Catholic religion ; but to deny the
Irish this justice now, in the present
state of Europe, and in the summer
months, just as the season for destroy-
ing kingdoms is coming on, is (beloved
Abraham), whatever you may think of
it, little short of positive insanity.

Here is a frigate attacked by a corsair
of immense strength and size, rigging
cut, masts in danger of coming by the
board, four foot water in the hold, men
dropping off very fast; in this dreadful
situation how do you think the Captain
acts (whose name shall be Perceval) ?
He calls all hands upon deck; talks to
them of King, country, glory, sweet-

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

145

hearts, gin, French prison, wooden
shoes, Old England, and hearts of oak :
they give three cheers, rush to their
gans, and, after a tremendous conflict,
succeed in beating oflf the enemy. Not
a syllable of all this: this is not the
manner in which the honourable Com-
mander goes to work: the first thing
he does is to secure 20 or 30 of his
prime sailors who happen to be Catho-
lics, to clap them in irons, and set over
them a guard of as many Protestants;
having taken this admiriU)le method of
defending himself against his infidel
opponents, he goes upon deck, reminds
the sailors, in a very bitter harangue,
that they are. of dificrent religions;
exhorts the Episcopal gunner not to
trust to the Presbyterian quarter-
master ; issues positive orders that the
Catholics should be fired at upon the
first appearance of discontent; rushes
through blood and brains, examining
his men in the Catechism and 39
Articles, and positively forbids every
one to sponge or ram who has not
taken the Sacrament according to the
Church of England. Was it right to
take out a captain made of excellent
British stufi^, and to put in such a man
a^this ? Is not he more like a parson,
or a talking lawyer, than a thorough-
bred seaman ? And built as she is of
heart of oak, and admirably maifhed,
is it possible with such a captain, to
save this ship from going to the
bottom ?

You have an argument, I perceive,
in common with many others, against
the Catholics, that their demands com-
plied with would only lead to further
exactions, and that it is better to resist
them now, before anything is conceded,
than hereafter, when it is found that all
concessions are in vain. I wish the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, who uses
this reasoning to exclude others from
their just rights, had tried its efficacy,
not by his understanding, but by (what
are full of much better things) his
pockets. Suppose the person to whom
he applied for the Meltings had with-
stood every plea of wife and fourteen
children, no business, and good charac-
ter, and refused him this paltry little
office, because he might hereafter at-
VoL. IL

tempt to get hold of the revenues of
the Duchy of Lancaster for life; would
not Mr. Perceval have contended
eagerly against the injustice of refusing
moderate requests, because immoderate
ones may hereafter be made ? Would
he not have said (and said truly).
Leave such exorbitant attempts as
these to the general indignation of the
Commons, who will take care to defeat
them when they do occur ; but do not
refuse me the Irons and the Meltings
now, because I may totally lose sight
of all moderation 'hereafter? Leave
hereafter to the spirit and the wisdom
of hereafter ; and do not be niggardly
now, from the apprehension that men
as wise as you should be profuse in
times to come.

You forget. Brother Abraham, that
it is a vast art (where quarrels cannot
be avoided) to turn the public opinion
in your favour and to the prejudice of
your enemy ; a vast privilege to feel
that you are in the right, and to make
him feel that he is in the wrong: a
privilege which makes you more than
a man, and your antagonist less; and
often secures victory, by convincing
him who contends, that he must submit
to injustice if he submits to defeat.
Open every rank in the army and the
navy to the Catholic ; let him purchase
at the same price as the Protestant (if
either Catholic or Protestant can pur-
chase such refined pleasures) the pri-
vilege of hearing Lord Castlereagh
speak for three hours; keep his clergy
from starving, soften some of the most
odious powers of the tjthing-man, and
you will for ever lay this formidable
question to rest But if I am wrong,
and you must quarrel at last, quarrel
upon just rather than unjust grounds;
divide the Catholic, and unite the Pro-
testant ; be just, and your own exertions
will be more formidable and their ex-
ertions less formidable; be just, and
you will take away from their party
all the best and wisest understand-
ings of both persuasions, and knit them
firmly to your own cause. " Thrice is
he armed who has his quarrel just;"
and ten times as much may he be taxed.
In the beginning of any war, however
destitute of common sense, every mob

L

146

PETER PLYMLEY^ LETTEB&

will roar, and ererj Lord of the Bed-
chamber address ; bnt if you are en-
gaged in a war that is to last for jears^
and to require important sacrifices, take
care to make the justice of your case
80 clear and so obrious, that it cannot
be mistaken by the most illiterate
country gentleman who rides the earth.
Nothing, in fact, can be so grossly ab-
surd as the argument which says, I will
deny justice to you now, because I
suspect future injustice from you. At
this rate, you may. lock a man up in
your stable, and refuse to let him out,
because you suspect that he has an
intention, at some future period, of
robbing your hen-roost. You may
horsewhip him at Lady-day, because
you believe he will affront you at Mid-
summer. You may commit a greater
evU, to guard against a less which is
merely contingent, and may never hap-
pen. You may do what you have done
a century ago in Ireland, made the
Catholics worse than Helots, because
you suspected that they might hereafter
aspire to be more than fellow-citizens;
rendering their sufferings certain from
your jealousy, while yours were only
doubtful from their ambition; an am-
bition sure to be excited by the very
measures which were taken to pre-
vent it.

The physical strength of the Catholics
will not be greater because you give
them a share of political power. You
may by these means turn rel)els into
friends; but I do not see how you make
rebels more formidable. If they taste
of the honey of lawful power, they will
love the hive from whence they procure
it ; if they will struggle with us like
men in the same state for civil influence,
we are safe. All that I dread is, the
physical strengh of four millions of men
combined with an invading French
army. If you are to quarrel at last
with this enormous population, still
put it off as long as you can ; you must
gain, and cannot lose, by the delay.
The state of Europe cannot be worse ;
the conviction which the Catholics en-
tertain of your tyranny and injustice
cannot be more alarming, nor the
opinions of your own people more
divided. Time, which produces such

eflect upon brass and marble, may in-
spi^ one Minister with modesty, and
another with compassion; erery cir-
cumstance may be better ; some certainly
will be so, none can be worse; and,
after aU, the evil may never happen.

You have got hold, I perceive, of all
the vulgar English stories respecting
the hereditary transmission of forfeited
property, and seriously believe that
every Catholic beggar wears the ter-
riers of his father's land next his skin,
and is only waiting for better times
to cut the throat of the Protestant
possessor, and get drunk in the hall of
his ancestors. There is one irresistible
answer to this mistake, and that is, that
the forfeited lands are purchased in-
discriminately by Catholic and Ptt>-
testant, and that the Catholic purchaser
never objects to such a title. Now the
land (so purchased by a Catholic) is
either his own family estate, or It is
not If it is, you suppose him so de-
sirous of coming into possession, that
he resorts to the double method of re-
bellion and purchase; if it is not his
own family estate of which he becomes
the purchaser, you suppose him first to
purchase, then to rebel, in order to
defeat the purchase. These things
may happen in Ireland; but it is totally
impossible they can happen anywhere
else. In fact, what land can any man
of any sect purchase in Ireland, but
forfeited property? In all other op-
pressed countries which I have ever
heard of, the rapacity of the conqueror
was bounded by the territorial limits
in which the objects of his avarice were
contained ; but Ireland has been actu-
ally confiscated twice over, as a cat is
twice killed by a wicked parish hoy,

I admit there is a vast luxury in
selecting a particular set of Christians,
and in wonting them as a boy worries
a puppy dog ; it is an amusement in
which all the young English are brought
up from their earliest days. I like the
idea of saying to men who use a dif-
ferent hassock from me, that till they
change their hassock, they shall never
be Colonels, Aldermen, or Parliament-
men. While I am gratifying my per-
sonal insolence respecting religious
forms, I fondle myself into an idea

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERS.

147

that I am religions, and that I am
doing my duty in the most exemplary
(as I certainly am in the most easy)
way. But then, my good Abraham,
this sport, admirable as it is, is become,
with respect to the Catholics, a little
dangerous; and if we are not extremely
careful in taking the amusement, we
shall tumble into the holy water, and
be drowned. As it seems necessary
to your idea of an established Church
to have somebody to worry and tor-
ment, suppose we were to select for
this purpose William Wilberforce, Esq.,
and the patent Christians of Clapham.
We shall by this expedient enjoy the
same opportunity for cruelty and in-
justice, without being exposed to the
same risks: we will compel them to
abjure vital clergymen by a puj)lic test,
to deny that the said William Wilber-
force has any power of working miracles,
touching for barrenness or any other
infirmity, or that he is endowed with
any preternatural gift whatever. We
will swear them to the doctrine of good
works, compel them to preach common
sense, and to hear it ; to frequent
Bishops, Deans, and other high Church-
men; and to appear (once in the quarter
at the least) at some melodrame. opera,
pantomime, or other light scenical re-
presentation; in short, we will gratify
the" love of insolence and power: we
will enjoy the old orthodox sport of
witnessing the impotent anger of men
compelled to submit to civil degrada-
tion, or to sacrifice their notions of
truth to ours. And all this we may
do without the slightest risk, because
their numbers are (as yet) not very
considerable. Cruelty and injustice
must, of course, exist: but why con-
nect them with danger? Why torture
a bull- dog, when you can get a frog or
a rabbit ? I am sure my proposal will
meet with the most universal approba-
tion. Do not be apprehensive of any
opposition from ministers. If it is a
case of hatred, we are sure that one
man will defend it by the Gospel : if it
abridges human freedom, we know that
another will find precedents for it in
the Revolution.

In the name of Heaven, what are we
to gain by suffering L'cland to be rode

by that faction which now predominates
over it ? Why are we to endanger our
own Church and State, not for 500,000
Episcopalians, but for ten or twelve
great Orange families, who have been
sucking the blood of that country for
these hundred years last past ? and the
folly of the Orangemen* in playing this
game themselves, is almost as absurd
as ours in playing it for them. They
ought to have the sense to see that
their business now is to keep quietly
the lauds and beeves of which the
fathers of the Catholics were robbed in
days of yore; they must give to their
descendants the sop of political power:
by contending with them for names,
they will lose realities, and be com-
pelled to beg their potatoes in a foreign
land, abhorred equally by the English,
who have witnessed their oppression,
and by the Catholic Irish, who have
smarted under them.

LETTER rV.

Then comes Mr. Isaac Hawkins Brown
(the gentleman who danced f so badly
at the Court of Naples,) and asks if it
is not an anomaly to educate men in
another religion than your own ? It
certainly is our duty to get rid of error,
and above all of religious error ; but
this is not to be done per saltum, or the
measure will miscarry, like the Queen.
It may be very easy to dance away the
royal embryo of a great kingdom ; but.
Mr. Hawkins Brown must look before
he leaps, when his object is to crush an

• This remark begins to be sensibly felt
in Ireland. The Protestants in Ireland are
fast coming over to the Catholic cause.

t In the third year of his present Majesty,
and in the 30th of his own age, Mr. Isaac
Hawkins Brown, then upon his travels,
danced One evening at the Court of Naples.
His dr^s was a volcano silk with lava but-
tons. Whether (as the Neapolitan wits
said) he had studied dancing under St.
Vitus, or whether David, dancing in a linen
vest, was his model, is not known; but Mr.
Brown danced Mdth such inconceivable
alacrity and vigour, that he threw the
Queen of Napl^ into convulsions of laugh-
ter, which terminated in a miscarriage, and
changed the dynasty of the Neapolitan
throne.

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148

PETER PLYMLErS LETTERa

opposite sect in religion ; false steps aid
the one effect, as much as they are
fatal to the other: it will require not
only the lapse of Mr. Hawkins Brown,
but the lapse of centaries, before the
absurdities of the Catholic religion are
laughed at as much as they deserve to
be^ but surely, in the meantime, the
Catholic religion is better than none;
four millions of Catholics are better
than four millions of wild beasts; two
hundred priests educated by our own
government are better than the same
number educated by the man who
means to destroy ns.

The whole sum now appropriated by
Government to the religious education
of four millions of Christians is 13,000il ;
a sum about one hundred times as large
being appropriated in the same country
to about one eighth part of this number
of Protestants. When it was proposed
to raise this grant from 8,000^ to
13,000/., its present amount, this sum
was objected to by that most iidulgent
of Christians, Mr. Spencer Perceval, as
enormous ; he himself having secured
for his own eating and drinking, and
the eating and drinking of the Master
and Miss Percevals, the reversionary
sum of 21,000/. a year of the public
money, and having just failed in a
desperate and rapacious attempt to
secure to himself for life the revenues
of the Duchy of Lancaster: and the
best of it is, that this Minister, after
abusing his predecessors for their im-
pious bounty to the Catholics, has
found himself compelled, from the
apprehension of immediate danger, to
grant the sum in question; thus dis-
solving his pearl • in vinegar, and
destroying all the value of the gift by
the virulence and reluctance with which
it was granted.

I hear from some persons in Parlia-
ment, and from others in the sixpenny
societies for debate, a great deal about
unalterable laws passed at the Revolu-
tion. When I hear any man talk of
an unalterable law, the only effect it
produces upon me is to convince me

• Perfectly ready at the same time to fol-
low the other half of Cleopatra's example,
aud to swallow the solution himself.

that he is an unalterable fool. A law
passed when there was Germany, Spain,
Russia, Sweden, Holland, Portugal,
and Turkey ; when there was a dis-
puted succession: when four or five
hundred acres were won and lost after
ten years' hard fighting ; when armies
were commanded by the sons of kings,
and campaigns passed in an inter-
change of civil letters and ripe fruit;
-and for these laws, when the whole
state of the world is completely changed,
we are now, according to my Lord
Hawkesbury, to hold ourselves ready
to perish. It is no mean misfortune,
in times like these, to be forced to saj
anything about such men as Lord
Hawkesbury, and to be reminded that
we are governed by them ; but as I am
driven to it, I must take the liberty of
observing, that the wisdom and liber-
ality of my Lord Hawkesbury are of
that complexion which always shrinks
from the present exercise of these
virtues, by praising the splendid ex-
amples of them in ages past If he
had lived at such periods, he would
have opposed the Revolution by prais-
ing the Reformation, and the Refor*
mation by speaking handsomely of the
Crusades. He gratifies his natural
antipathy to great and courageous
measures, by playing off the wisdom
and courage which have ceased to
influence human affairs against that
wisdom and courage which living men
would employ for present happiness.
Besides, it happens unfortunately for
the Warden of the Cinque Ports, that
to the principal incapacities under
which the Irish suffer, they were sub-
jected after that great and glorious
Revolution, to which we are indebted
for so many blessings, and his Lord-
ship for the termination of so many
periods. The Catholics were not ex-
cluded from the Irish House of Com-
mons, or military commands, before
the drd and 4th of William and Mary,
and the 1st and 2nd of Queen Anne.

If the great mass of the people,
environed as they are on every side
with Jenkinsons, Percevals, Melvilles,
and other perils, were to pray for
divine illumination and aid, what more
could Providence in its mercy do than

PETER J^LYMLErS LETTERS.

149

send tliem the example of Scotland ?
For what a length of years was it
attempted to compel the Scotch to
change their religion : horse, foot,
artillery, and armed Prebendaries, were
sent out after the Presbyterian parsons
and their congregations. The Perce-
Tals of those days called for blood:
this call is never made in vain, and
blood was shed ; but to the astonish-
ment and horror of the Percevals of
those days, they could not introduce
the Book of Common Prayer, nor
prevent that metaphysical people from
going to heaven their true way, instead
of our true way. With a little oatmeal
for food, and a little sulphur for friction,
allaying cutaneous irritation with the
one hand, and holding his Calvinistical
creed in the .other, Sawney ran away
to his flinty hills, sung his psalm out of
tune his own way, and listened to his
sermon of two hours long, amid the
rough and imposing melancholy of the
tallest thistles. But Sawney brought
up his unbreeched offspring in a cor-
dial hatred of his oppressors ; and
Scotland was as much a part of the
weakness of England then, as Ireland
is at this moment. The true and the
only remedy was applied ; the Scotch
were suffered to worship God after
tbeir own tiresome manner, without
pain, penalty, and privation. No
lightning descended from heaven; the
country was not ruined ; the world is
not yet come to an end; the dignitaries,
who foretold all these consequences,
are utterly forgotten, and Scotland has
ever since been an increasing source
of strength to Great Britain. In the
six hundredth year of our empire over
Ireland, we are making laws to trans-
port a man, if he is found out of his
house after eight o'clock at night.
That this is necessary, I know too
well ; but tell me why it is necessary?
It is not necessary in Greece, where
the Turks are masters.

Are you aware that there is at this
moment a universal clamour through-
out the whole of Ireland against the
Union ? It is now one month since I
returned from that country; I have
never seen so extraordinary, so alarm-
ing, and 8& rapid a change in the

sentiments of any people. Those who
disliked the Union before are quite
furious against it now; those who
doubted doubt no more: those who
were friendly to it have exchanged
that friendship for the most rooted
aversion : in the midst of all this (which
is by far the most alarming symptom),
there is the strongest disposition on
the part of the Northern Dissenters to
unite with the Catholics, irritated bv
the faithless injustice with which they
have been treated. If this combination
does take place (mark what I say to
you), you will have meetings all over
Ireland for the cry of No Union ; that
cry will spread like wild-fire, and blaze
over every opposition; and if this bo
the case, there is no use in mincing the
matter, Ireland is gone, and the death-
blow of England is struck ; and this
event may happen instantly — before
Mr. Canning and Mr. Hookham Frere
have turned Lord Howick's last speech
into doggerel rhyme; before " the near
and dear relations'* have received
another quarter of their pension, or
Mr. Perceval conducted the Curates*
Salary Bill safely to a third reading. —
If the mind of the English people,
cursed as they now are with that mad-
ness of religious dissension which has
been breathed into them for the pur-
poses of private ambition, can be
alarmed by any remembrances, and
warned by any events, they should
never forget how nearly Ireland was
lost to this country during the Ameri-
can war; that it was saved merely by
the jealousy of the Protestant Irish
towards the Catholics, then a much
more insignificant and powerless body
than they now are. The Catholic and
the Dissenter have since combined to-
gether against you. Last war, the
winds, those ancient and unsubsidised
allies of England, the winds, upon
which English ministers depend as
much for saving kingdoms as washer-
women do for drying clothes ; the
winds stood your friends: the French
could only get into Ireland in small
numbers, and the rebels were defeated.
Since then, all the remaining kingdoms
of Europe have been destroyed ; and
the Irish see that their national indeh

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150

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

pendence is gone, without having
received any single one of those
advantages which they were taught
to expect from the sacrifice. All good
things were to flow from the Union;
they have none of them gained any-
thing. Every man*s pride is wounded
by it ; no man's interest is promoted.
In the seventh year of that Union,
four million Catholics, lured by all kind^
of promises to yield up the separate
dignity and sovereignty of their country,
are forced to squabble with such a man
as Mr. Spencer Perceval for five
thousand pounds with which to edu-
cate their children in their own> mode
of worship; he, the same Mr. Spencer,
having secured to his own Protestant
self a reversionary portion of the pub-
lic money amounting to four times that
sum. A senior Proctor of the Uni-
versity of Oxford, the head of a house,
or the examining Chaplain to a Bishop,
may believe these things can last: but
every man of the world, whose under-
standing has been exercised in the
business of life, must see (and see with
a breaking heart) that they will soon
come to a fearful termination.

Our conduct to Ireland, during the
whole of this war, has been that of a
man who subscribes to hospitals, weeps
at charity sermons, carries out broth
and blankets to beggars, and then
comes home and beats his wife and
children. We had compassion for the
victims of all other oppression and in-
justice, except our own. If Switzerland
was threatened, away went a Treasury
Clerk with a hundred thousand pounds
for Switzerland; large bags of money
were kept constantly under sailing
orders; upon the slightest demonstra-
tion towards Naples, down went Sir
William Hamilton upon his knees, and
begged for the love of St. Januarius
they would help us off with a little
money; all the arts of Machiavel were
resorted to, to persuade Europe to
borrow ; troops were sent off in all
directions to save the Catholic and
Protestant world ; the Pope himself
was guarded by a regiment of English
dragoons; if the Grand Lama had been
at hand, he would have had another;
every Catholic Clergyman who had

the good fortune to be neither English
nor Irish, was immediately provided
with lodging, soap, crucifix, missal,
chapel-beads, relics, and holy water; if
Turks had landed, Turks would have
received an order from the Treasury
for coffee, opium, korans, and seraglios.
In the midst of all this fury of saving
and defending, this crusade for con-
science and Christianity, there was a
universal agreement among all de-
scriptions of people to continue every
species of internal persecution; to deny
at home every just right that had been
denied before; to pummel poor Dr.
Abraham Rees and his Dissenters ;
and to treat the unhappy Catholics of
Ireland as if their tongues were mate,
their heels cloven, their nature brutal,
and designedly subjected by Providence
to their Orange masters.

How would my admirable brother,
the Rev. Abraham Plymley, like to be
marched to a Catholic chapel, to be
sprinkled with the sanctified contents
of a pump, to hear a number of false
quantities in the Latin tongue, and to
see a number of persons occupied in
making right angles upon the breast
and forehead ? And if all this would
give you so much pain, what right
have you to march Catholic soldiers to
a place of worship, where there is no
aspersion, no rectangular gestures, and
where they understand every word they
hear, having first, in order to get him
to enlist, made a solemn promise to the
contrary ? Can you wonder, after
this, that the Catholic priest stops the
recruiting in Ireland, as he is now
doing to a most alarming degree ?

The late question, concerning mili-
tary rank did not individually affect
the lowest persons of the Catholic per-
suasion; but do you imagine they do
not sympathise with the honour and dis-
grace of their superiors ? Do you think
that satisfaction and dissatisfaction do
not travel down from Lord Fingal to
the most potatoless Catholic in Ireland,
and that the glory or shame of the sect
is not felt by many more than these
conditions personally and corporeally
affect ? Do you suppose that the de-
tection of Sir H. M. and the disap-
pointment of Mr. Perceval in the matter

PETER PLYMLEt'S LETTElia

151

of the Duchy of !Lancaster, did not
affect every dabbler in public property ?
Depend upon it these things were felt
through all the gradations of small
plunderers, down to him who filches a
pound of tobacco from the King's
warehouses; while, on the contrary,
the acquittal of any noble and ofScial
thief would not fail to diffuse the most
heartfelt satisfaction over the larcenous
and burglarious world. Observe, I do
not say because the lower Catholics
are affected by what . concerns their
superiors, that they are not affected by
what concerns themselves. There is
no disguising the horrid truth; tJiere
nust he some relaxation with respect to
tithe: this is the cruel and heart-rending
price which must be paid for national
preservation. I feel how little exist-
ence will be worth having, if any
alteration, however slight, is made in
the property of Irish rectors; I am
conscious how much such changes
must affect the daily and hourly com-
forts of every Englishman; I shall feel
too happy if they leave Europe un-
touched, and are not ultimately fatal
to the destinies of America; but I am
madly bent upon keeping foreign
enemies out of the British empire, and
my limited understanding presents me
with no other means of effecting my
object

You talk of waiting till another reign
before any alteration is made ; a pro-
posal full of good sense and good
nature, if the measure in question were
to pull down St. James's Palace, or to
alter Kew Gardens. Will Bonaparte
agree to put off" his intrigues, and his
invasion of Ireland ? If so, I will over-
look the question of justice, and finding
the danger suspended, agree to the
delay. I sincerely hope this reign may
last many years, yet the delay of a
single session of Parliament may be
fatal ; but if another year elapse with-
out some serious concession made to
the Catholics, I believe, before Ood,
that all future pledges and concessions
will be made in vain. I do not think
that peace will do you any good under
such circumstances : if Bonaparte give
you a respite, it will only be to get
ready the gallows on which he means

to hang you. The Catholic and the
Dissenter can unite in peace as well as
war. If they do, the gallows is ready ;
and your executioner, in spite of the
most solemn promises, will turn you off
the next hour.

With every disposition to please
(where to please within fair and ra-
tional limits is a high duly), it is im-
possible for public men to be long
silent about the Catholics ; pressing
evils are not got rid of, because they
are not talked of. A man may com-
mand his family to say nothing more
about the stone, and surgical opera-
tions: but the ponderous malice still
lies upon the nerve, and gets so big,
that the patient breaks his own law of
silence, clamours for the knife, and
expires under its late operation. Be-
lieve me, you talk folly, when you
talk of suppressing the Catholic ques-
tion. I wish to God the case admitted
of such a remedy: bad as it is, it does
not admit of it. If the wants of the
Catholics are not heard in the manly
tones of Lord Grenville, or the servile
drawl of Lord Castlereagh, they will
be heard ere long in the madness of
mobs, and the conflicts of armed men.

I observe, it is now universally the
fashion to speak of the first personage
in the state as the great obstacle to the
measure. In the first place, I am not
bound to believe such rumours because
I hear them; and. in the next place, I
object to such language, as unconsti-
tutionaL Whoever retains his situa-
tion in the ministry, while the incapa-
cities of the Catholics remain, is the
advocate for those incapacities ; and
to him, and to him only, am I to look
for refponsibility. But waive this
question of the Catholics, and put a
general case: — How is a minister of
this country to act when the conscien-
tious scruples of his Sovereign prevent
the execution of a measure deemed by
him absolutely necessary to the safety
of the country? His conduct is quite
clear — ^he should resign. But what is
his successor to do? — Resign. But
is the King to be left without ministers,
and is he in this manner to be com-
pelled to act against his own con-
science? Before I answer this, pray

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152

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

tell me in my turn, what better defence
is there against the machinations of a
'wicked, or the errors of a weak, Mon-
arch, than the impossibility of finding
a minister who will lend himself to vice
and folly? Every English Monarch,
in such a predicament, wonld sacrifice
his opinions and views to sach a clear
expression of the public will ; and it is
one method in which the Constitution
aims at bringing about such a sacrifice.
You may say, if you please, the ruler
of a state is forced to give up his object,
when the natural love of place and
power will tempt no one to assist him
in its attainment. This may be force;
but it is force without injury, and
therefore without blame. I am not to
be beat ont of these obvious reasonings,
and ancient constitutional provisions,
by the term conscience. There is no
fantasy, however wild, that a man may
not persuade himself that he cherishes
from motives of conscience ; eternal
war against impious France, or re-
bellious America, or Catholic Spain,
may in times to come be scruples of
conscience. One English Monarch
may, from scruples of conscience, wish
to abolish every trait of religious per-
secution ; another Monarch may deem
it his absolute and indispensable duty
to make a slight provision' for Dissen-
ters out of the revenues of the Church
of England. So that you see, Brother
Abraham, there are cases where it
would be the duty of the best and most
loyal subjects to oppose the conscien-
tious scruples of their Sovereign, still
taking care that their actions were
constitutional, and their modes respect-
ful. Then you come upon me with
personal questions, and say that no
such dangers are to be apprehended
now under our present gracious Sove-
reign, of whose good qualities we must
b3 all so well convinced. All these
sorts of discussions I beg leave to de-
cline ; what I have said upon consti-
tutional topics, I mean of course for
general, not for particular application.
i agree with you in all the good yo\i
have said of the powers that be, and I
avail myself of the opportunity of
pointing out general dangers to the
Constitution, at a moment when we

are so completely exempted firom their
present influence. I cannot finish this
letter without expressing my surprise
and pleasure at your abuse of the ser-
vile addresses poured in upon the
Throne ; nor can I conceive a greater
disgust to a Monarch, with a true
English heart, than to see such a ques-
tion as that of Catholic Emancipation
argued, not with a reference to its
justice or importance, but universally
considered to be of no further conse-
quence than as it afiects his own pri-
vate feelings. That these sentiments
should be mine, is not wondeiful ; but
how they came to be yours, does, I
confess, fill me with surprise. Are you
moved by the arrival of the Irish Brig-
ade at Antwerp, and the amorous vio-
lence which awaits Mrs. Plymley ?

LETTER V.

Dear Abraham,
I NEVER met a parson in my life, who
did not consider the Corporation and
Test Acts as the great bulwarks of the
Church ; and yet it is now just sixty-
four years since bills of indemnity to
destroy their penal efi^ects, or, in other
words, to repeal them, have been passed
annatUly as a matter of course.

Heu vaium ignariB mentes.

These bulwarks, without which no
clergyman thinks he could sleep with
his accustomed soundness, have ac-
tually not been in existence since any
man now living has taken holy orders.
Every year the Indemnity Act pardons
past breaches of these two laws, and
prevents any fi*e8h actions of informers
from coming to a conclusion before the
period for the next indemnity "bill ar-
rives; so that these penalties, by which
alone the Church remains in existence,
have not had pne moment's operatioa
for sixty-four years. You will say the
legislature, during the whole of this
period, has reserved to itself the dis-
cretion of suspending, or not suspend-
ing. But had not the legislature the
right of re-enacting, if it was necessary?
And now when yon have kept the vA
over these people (with the most scan-

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTEIiS.

153

daloas abase of all principle) for sixty-
four years, and not found it necessary
to strike once, is not that the best of all
reasons why the rod should be laid
aside? You talk to me 6f a very
valuable hedge running across your
fields which you would not part with
on any account. I go down, expecting
to find a limit impervious to cattle, and
highly useful for the preservation of
property; but, to my utter astonish-
ment, I find that the hedge was cut
down half a century ago, and that
every year the shoots are clipped the
mpment they appear above ground : it
appears, upon further inquiry, that the
hedge never ought to have existed at
all ; that it originated in the malice of
antiquated quarrels, and was cut down
because it subjected you to vast incon-
venience, and broke up your inter-
course with a country absolutely neces-
sary to your existence. If the remains
of this hedge serve only to keep up an
irritation in your neighbours, and to
remind them of the fends of former
times, good nature and good sense
teach you that you ought to grub it up,
and cast it into the oven. This is the
exact state of these two laws ; and yet
it is made a great argument against
concession to the Catholics, that it in-
volves their repeal; which is to say,
Do not make me relinquish a folly
that will lead to my ruin ; because, if
you do, I must give up other follies ten
times greater than this.

I confess, with all our bulwarks and
hedges, it mortifies me to the very
quick, to contrast with our matchless
stupidity, and inimitable folly, the con-
duct of Bonaparte upon the subject of
religious persecution. At the moment
when we are tearing the crucifixes
from the necks of the Catholics, and
washing pious mud from the foreheads
of the Hindoos ; at that moment this
man is assembling the very Jews at
Paris, and endeavouring to give them
stability and importance. I shall never
be reconciled to mending shoes in
America ; but I see it must be my lot,
and I will then take a dreadful revenge
upon Mr. Perceval, if I catch him
preaching within ten miles of me. I
cannot for the soul of me conceive

whence this man has gained his notions
of Christianity : he has the most evan-
gelical charity for errors in arithmetic,
and the most inveterate malice against
errors in conscience. While he rages
against those whom in the true spirit
of the Grospel he ought to indulge,
he forgets the only instance of seve-
rity which that Gk)spel contains, and
leaves the jobbers, and contractors,
and money-changers at their seats,
without a single stripe.

You cannot imagine, you say, that
England will ever be ruined and con-
quered ; and for no other reason that 1
can find, but because it seems so very
odd it should be ruined and conquered.
Alas ! so reasoned, in their time, the
Austrian, Russian, and Prussian Plym-
leys. But the English are brave : so
were all these nations. You might
get together a hundred thousand men
individually brave ; but without gene-
rals capable of commanding such a
machine, it would be as useless as
a first-rate man of war manned by
Oxford clergymen, or Parisian shop-
keepers. 1 do not say this to the dis-
paragement of English ofiicers : they
have had no means of acquiring ex-
perience ; but I do say it to create
alarm ; for we do not appear to me to
be half alarmed enough, or to enter-
tain that sense of our danger which
leads to the most obvious means of
self-defence. As for the spirit of the
peasantry in making a gallant defence
behind hedge-rows, and through plate-
racks and hen-coops, highly as I think
of their bravery, I do not know any
nation in Europe so likely to be struck
with the panic as the English ; and this
from their total imacquaintance with
the science of war. Old wheat and
beans blazing for twenty miles round ;
cart mares shot ; sows of Lord Somer-
ville's breed running wild over the
country ; the minister of the parish
wounded sorely in his hinder parts ;
Mrs. Plymley in fits ; all these scenes
of war an Austrian or a Russian has
seen three or four times over ; but it is
now three centuries since an English
pig has fallen in a fair battle upon
English ground, or a farm-house been
I rifled, or a clergyman's wife been sub-

154

PETER PLYilLErS LETTER&

jectcd to any other proposals of love
than the connnhial endearments of her
sleek and orthodox mate. The old
edition of Plutarch's Lires, which lies
in the corner of yoor parlour window,
has contrihated to work yon up to the
most romantic expectations of our Ro-
man beharioor. Yon are persuaded
that Lord Amhmt will defend Kew
Bridge like Codes ; that some maid of
honour will break away from her cap-
tivity, and swim over the Thames;
that the Duke of York will bum his
capitulating hand ; and little Mr.
Sturges Bourne * give forty years* pur-
chase for Monlsbiam Hall,* while the
French are encamped upon it. I hope
we shall witness ail this, if the French
do come ; but in the meantime I am
so enchanted with the ordinary English
behaviour of these invaluable persons,
that I earnestly pray no opportunity
may be given them for Roman valour,
and for those very un-Roman pensions
which they would all, of course, take
especial care to claim in consequence.
But whatever was our conduct, if every
ploughman was as great a hero as he
who was called from his oxen to save
Rome from her enemies, I should still
say, that at such a crisis yon want the
affections of all your subjects, in both
islands : there is no spirit which you
must alienate, no heart you must avert,
every man must feel he has a country,
-and that there is an urgent and pressing
cause why he should expose himself to
death.

The effects of penal laws, in matters
of religion, are never confined to those
limits in which the legislature intended
they should be placed : it is not only
that I am excluded from certain offices
and dignities because I am a Catholic,
but the exclusion carries with it a cer-
tain stigma, which degrades me in the
eyes of the monopolising sect, and the
very name of my religion becomes
odious. These effects are so very strik-
ing in England, that I solemnly believe
blue and red baboons to be more popu>

* There is nothing more objectionable in
Plymley's Letters than the abuse of Mr.
Sturges Bourne, who is an honourable, able,
and excellent person ; but such are the
malevolent effects of party sphit.

lar here than Catholics and Presbj-
terians ; they are more understood, and.
there is a greater disposition to do
something for them. When a country
squire hears of an ape, his first feeling
is to give it nuts and apples ; when he
hears of a Dissenter, his immediate
impulse is to commit it to the county
jail, to shave its head, to alter its cus-
tomary food, and to have it privately
whipped. This is no caricature, but
an accurate picture of national feelings,
as they degrade and endanger us at
this very moment. The Irish Catholic
gentleman would bear his legal disa-
bilities with greater temper, if these
were all he had to bear — if they did
not enable every Protestant cheese-
monger and tide-waiter to treat him
with contempt He is branded on the
forehead with a red-hot iron, and
treated like a spiritual felon, because,
in the highest of all considerations he
is led by the noblest of all guides, his
own disinterested conscience. .

Why are nonsense and cruelty a bit
the better because they are enacted ?
If Providence, which gives wine and
oil, had blessed us with that tolerant
spirit which makes the countenance
more pleasant and the heart more glad
than these can do ; if our Statute book
had never been defiled with such in-
famous laws, the sepulchral Spencer
Perceval would have been hauled
through the dirtiest horse-pond in
Hampstead, had he ventured to pro-
pose them. But now persecution is
good, because it exists ; eveiy law
which originated in ignorance and
malice, and gratifies the passions from
whence it sprang, we call the wisdom
of our ancestors : when such laws are
repealed, they will be cruelty and mad-
ness ; till they are repealed, they are
policy and caution.

I was somewhat amused with the
imputation brought against the Catho-
lics by the University of Oxford, that
they are enemies to liberty. I immedi-
ately turned to my History of England,
and marked as an historical error that
passage in which it is recorded that,
in the reign of Queen Anne, the fa-
mous decree of the University of Ox-
ford, respecting passive obedience, was

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

155

ordered, by the Hoase of Lords, to be
barnt by the hands of the common
hangman, as contrary to the liberty of
the subject, and the law of the land.
Nevertheless, I wish, whatever be the
modesty of those who impute, that the
impatation was a little more tme, the
Catholic cause would not be quite so
desperate with the present Adminis-
tration. I fear, however, that the
hatred to liberty in these poor devoted
wretches may ere long appear more
doubtful than it is at present to the
Vice-Chancellor and his Clergy, in-

, flamed, as they doubtless are, with
classical examples of republican virtue,
and panting, as they always have been,
to reduce the power of the Crown
within narrower and safer limits. What
mistaken zeal, to attempt to connect
one religion with freedom and another
with slavery ! Who laid the founda-
tions of English liberty ? What was
the mixed religion of Switzerland?
What has the Protestant religion done
for liberty in Denmark, in Sweden,
throughout the North of Germany,
and in Prussia ? The purest religion
in the world, in my humble opinion, is
the religion of the Church of England:
for its preservation (so far as it is exer-
cised without intruding upon the liber-
ties of others) I am ready at this mo-
ment to venture my present life, and
but through that religion I have no
hopes of any other ; yet I am not forced
to be silly because I am pious; nor
will I ever join in eulogiums on my

, faith, which every man of common
reading and common sense can so
easily refute.

You have either done too much for
the Catholics (worthy Abraham), or
too little ; if you had intended to refuse
them politicfd power, you should have
refused them civil rights. After you
had enabled them to acquire property,
after you had conceded to them ^1
that you did concede in '78 and '93,
the rest is wholly out of your pow^er:
you may choose whether you will give
the rest in an honourable or a disgrace-
ful mode, but it is utterly out of your
power to withhold it.

In the last year, land to the amount
of eight hundred thousand pounds was

purchased by the Catholics in Ireland.
Do you think it possible to be- Perceval,
and be Canning, and be-Castlereagh,
such a body of men as this out of their
common rights, and their common
sense ? Mr. George Canning may
laugh and joke at the idea of Protes-
tant bailiffs ravishing Catholic ladies,
under the 9th clause of the Sunset Bill;
but if some better remedy be not ap-
plied to the distractions of Ireland
than the jocularity of Mr. Canning,
they will soon put an end to his pen-
sion, and to the pension of those **near
and dear relatives," for whose eating,
drinking, washing, and clothing, every
man in the United Kingdoms now pays
his two-pence or three-pence a year.
You may call these observations coarse,
if you please ; but I have no idea that
the Sophias and Carolines of any man
breathing are to eat national veal, to
drink public tea, to wear Treasury
ribands, and then that we are to be
told that it is coarse to animadvert
upon this pitiful and eleemosynary
splendour. If this is right, why not
mention it ? If it is wrong, why should
not he who enjoys the ease of support-
ing his sisters in this manner bear
the shame of it ? Everybody seems
hitherto to have spared a man who
never spares anybody.

As for the enormous wax candles,
and superstitious mummeries, and
painted jackets of the Catholic priests,
I fear them not. Tell me that the
world will return again under the in-
fluence of the smallpox ; that Lord
Castlereagh will nereafter oppose the
power of the Court ; that Lord Howick
and Mr. Grattan will do each of them
a mean and dishonourable action ; that
anybody who has heard Lord Redes-
dale speak once will knowingly and
willinj^ly hear him again ; that Lord
Eldon has assented to the fact of two
and two making four, without shedding
tears, or expressing the smallest doubt
or scruple ; tell me any other thing
absurd or incredible, but^ for the love
of common sense, let me hear no more
of the danger to be apprehended from
the general diffusion of Popery. It is
too absurd to be reasoned upon ; every
man feels it is nonsense when he hears

156

PETER PLYMI-ErS LETTERS.

it stated, and so does ereiy man while
be is stating it

I cannot imagine wfa j the friends to
the Church Esttiblishment shonld en-
tertain snch a horror of seeing the doors
of Parliament flnng open to the Catho-
lics, and Tiew so passively the enjoy-
ment of that right by the Presbyterians
and by every other species of Dissen-
ter, In their tenets, in their Church
government, in the nature of their en-
dowments, the Dissenters are infinitely
more distant from the Church of Eng-
land than the Catholics are ; yet the
Dissenters have never been excluded
from Parliament. There are 45 mem-
bers in one House, and 16 in the other,
who always are Dissenters. There is
no law which would prevent every
member of the Lords and Commons
from being Dissenters. The Catholics
could not bring into Parliament half
the number of the Scotch members ;
and yet one exclusion is of such im-
mense importance, because it has taken
place ; and the other no human being
thinks of, because no one. is accustomed
to it. I have often thought, if the
wisdom of our ancestors had excluded
all persons with red hair from the
House of Commons, of the throes and
convulsions it would occasion to restore
them to their natural rights. What
mobs and riots would it produce ! To
what infinite abuse and obloquy would
the capillary patriot be exposed ; what
wormwood would distil from Mr. Per-
ceval, what froth would drop from Mr.
Canning ; bow (I vfjUl not say my, but
our Lord Hawkesbury, for he belongs
to us all) — how our Lord Hawkesbury
would work away about the hair of
King William and Lord Somers, and
the authors of the great and glorious
licvolution) how Lord Eldon would
appeal to the Deity and his own virtues,
and to the hair of his children : some
would say that red-haired men were
superstitions ; some would prove they
were atheists ; they would be petitioned
against as the friends of slavery, and
the advocates for revolt ; in short, such
a corrupter of the heart and the under-
standing is the spirit of persecution,
that these unfortunate people (con-
spired against by their fellow-subjects

of every complexion), if they did not
emigrate to countries where hair of
another colour was persecuted, would
be driven to the fidsehood of pemkes,
or the hypocrisy of the Tricosian fluid.

As for the dangers of the Church
(in spite of the staggerinfi: events which
have lately taken place), I have not
yet entirely lost my confidence in the
power of common sense, and I believe
the Church to be in no danger at all ;
but if it is, that danger is not from the
Catholics, but from ^e Methodists, and
from that patent Christianity which
has been for some time mantifacturing
at Clapham, to the prejudice of the old
and admu^able article prepared bj the
C!hurch. I would counsel my lords
the Bishops to keep their eyes upon
that holy village, and its hallowed vi-
cinity: they will find there a zeal in
making converts far superior to any-
thing which exists among the Catho-
lics ; a contempt for the great mass
of English clergy, much more rooted
and profound ; and a regular fund to
purchase livings for those groaning
and garrulous gentlemen, whom they
denominate (by a standing sarcasm
against the regular Church) Gospel
preachers, and vital clergymen. I am
too firm a believer in the general pro-
priety and respectability of the Enji^lish
clergy, to believe they have much to
fear either from old nonsense, or from
new; but if the Church must be sup-
posed to be in danger, I prefer that
nonsense which is grown half venerable
from time, the force of which I have
already tried and baffled, which at least
has some excuse* in the dark and ignor-
ant ages in which it originated. The
religious enthusiasm manufactured by
living men before my own eyes disgusts
my understanding as much, influences
my imagination not at all, and excites
my apprehensions much more.

I may have seemed to yon to treat
the situation of public affairs with some
degree of levity ; but I feel it deeply,
and with nightly and daily anguish;
because I know Ireland ; I have known
it all my life ; I love it, and I foresee
the crisis to which it will soon be ex-
posed. Who can doubt but that Ire-
land will experience ultimately from

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

157

France a treatment to which the con-
duct they have experienced from Eng-
land is the love of a parent, or a
brother? Who can doubt bat that
five years after he has got hold of the
conn try, Ireland will be tossed away
by Bonaparte as a present to some one
of his ruffian generals, who will knock
the head of Mr. Keogh against the
head of Cardinal Troy, shoot twenty
of the most noisy blockheads of the
Roman persuasion, wash his pug-dogs
in holy water, and confiscate the salt
butter of the Milesian Republic to the
last tub f But what matters this ? or
who is wise enough in Ireland to heed
it ? or when had common sense much
influence with my poor dear Irish ?
Mr. Perceval does not know the Irish ;
but I know them, and I know that at
every rash and mad hazard, they will
break the Union, revenge their wound-
ed pride and their insulted religion, and
fling themselves into the open arms of
France, sure of dying in the embrace.
And now what means have you of
guarding against this coming evil, upon
which the future happiness or misery
of every Englishman depends ? Have
you a single ally in the whole world ?
Is there a vulnerable point in the
French empire where the astonishing
resources of that people can be at-
tracted and employed ? Have you a
ministry wise enough to comprehend
the danger, manly enough to believe
unpleasant intelligence, honest enough
to state their apprehensions at the peril
of their places ? Is there anywhere
the slightest disposition to join any
measure of love, or conciliation, or
hope, with that dreadful bill which the
distractions of Ireland have rendered
necessary ? At the very moment that
the last Monarchy in Europe has fallen,
are we not governed by a man of
pleasantry, and a man of theology? In
the six hundredth year of our empire
over Ireland, have we any memorial of
ancient kindness to refer to? any
people, any zeal, any country on which
we can depend ? Have we any hope,
but in the winds of heaven, and the
tides of the sea ? any prayer to prefer
to the Irish, but that they should forget
and forgive their oppressors, who, in

thQ very moment that they are calling
upon them for their exertions, solemn-
ly assure them that the oppression shall
still remain.

Abraham, farewell ! If I have tired
you, remember how often you have
tired me and others. I do not think
we really differ in, politics so much as
you suppose ; or, at least, if we do,
that difference is in the means, and not
in the end. We both love the Con-
stitution, respect the King, and abhor
the French. But though you love the
Constitution, you would perpetuate the
abuses which have been engrafted upon
it ; though you respect the King, you
would confirm his scruples against the
Catholics ; though you abhor the
French, you would open to them the
conquest of Ireland. My method of
respecting my Sovereign is by protect-
ing his honour, his empire, and his
lasting happiness ; I evince my love of
the Constitution, by making it the
guardian of all men's rights and the
source of their freedom ; and I prove
my abhorrence of the French, by unit-
ing against them the disciples of every
church in the only remaining nation in
Europe. As for the men of whom I
have been compelled in this age of
mediocrity to say so much, they cannot
of themselves be worth a moment's
consideration, to you, to me, or to any-
body. In a year after their death,
they will be forgotten as completely as
if they had never been ; and are now
of no further importance, than as they
are the mere vehicles of carrying into
effect, the common-place and mis-
chievous prejudices of the times in
which they live.

LETTER VI.

Deab Abraham,
What amuses me the most is to hear
of the indulgences which the Catholics
have received, and their exorbitance in
not being satisfied with those indul-
gences : now if you complain to me
that a man is obtrusive and shameless
in his requests, and that it is impossible
to bring him to reason, I must first of
all hear the whole of your conduct

158

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTEBS.

towards liim ; for 70U maj have taken
from him so mnch in tiie first instance,
that, in spite of a long series of rcsti-
tution, a vast latitude for petition may
still remain behind.

There is a village (no matter where)
in which the inhabitants, on one day
in the year, sit down to a dinner pre-
pared at the common expense ; by an
extraordinary piece of tyranny (which
Lord Hawkesbury would call the wis-
dom of the village ancestors), the in-
habitants of three of the streets, about
a hundred years ago, seized upon the
inhabitants of the fourth street, bound
them hand and frot, laid them upoQ
their backs, and compelled them to
look on while the rest were stuffing
themselves with beef and beer : the
next year the inhabitants of the perse*
cuted street (though they contributed
an equal quota of the expense) were
treated precisely in the same manner.
The tyratnny grew into a custom ; and
(as the manner of our nature is) it was
considered as the most sacred of all
duties to keep these poor fellows with-
out their annual dinner: the village
was so tenacious of this practice, that
nothing could induce them to resign it;
every enemy to it was looked upon as
a disbeliever in Divine Providence, and
any nefarious churchwarden who wish-
ed to succeed in his election had no-
thing to do but to represent his antago-
nist as an abolitionist, in order to
frustrate his ambition, endanger his
life, and throw the village into a state
of the most dreadful commotion. By
degrees, however, the obnoxious street
grew to be so well peopled, and its
inhabitants so firmly united, that their
oppressors, more afraid of injustice,
were more disposed to be just. At
the next dinner they are unbound, the
year after allowed to sit upright, then
a bit of bread and a glass of water ;
till at last, after a long series of con-
cessions, they are emboldened to ask,
in pretty plain terms, that they may be
allowed to sit down at the bottom of
the table, and to fill their bellies as well
as the rest. Forthwith a general cry
of shame and scandal : " Ten years
ago, were you not laid npon your
backs ? Don't you remember what a

great thing you thought it to get a
piece of bread ? How thankful yoa
were for cheese-parings ? Have you
forgotten that memorable era when the
lord of the manor interfered to obtain
for you a slice of the public padding ?
And now, with an audacity only equal-
led by your ingratitude, yon have the
impudence to ask for .knives and forks,
and to request, in terms too plain to be
mistaken, that you may sit down to
table with the rest, and be indulged
even with beef and beer: there are not
more than half a dozen dishes which
we have reserved for ourselves ; the
rest has been thrown open to yoa in
the utmost profusion ; you have pota-
toes, and carrots, suet dumplings, sops
in the pan, and delicious toast and
water, in incredible quantities. Beef,
mutton, lamb, pork, and veal are ours;
and if you were not the most restless
and dissatisfied of human beings, you
would never think of aspiring to enjoy
them.*'

Is not this, my dainty Abraham, the
very nonsense and the very insult which
is talked to and practised upon the
Catholics ? You are surprised that
men who have tasted of partial justice
should ask for perfect justice ; that he
who has been robbed of coat and cloak
wiU not be contented with the restitn-
tion of one of his garments. He
would be a very lazy blockhead if he
were content, and I (who, though an
inhabitant of the village, have pre-
served, thank God, some sense of jus-
tice), most earnestly counsel these half-
fed claimants to persevere in their just
demands, till they are admitted to a
more complete share of a dinner for
which they pay as much as the others;
and if they see a little attenuated
lawyer squabbling at the head of their
opponents, let them desire him to
empty his pockets, and to pull out all
the pieces of duck, fowl, and puddinjr,
which he has filched from the public
feast, to carry home to his wife and
children.

You parade a great deal upon the
vast concessions made by this country
to the Irish before the Union. I deny
that any voluntary concession was ever
made by England to Ireland. What

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

159

did Ireland eyer ask that was granted?
What did she ever demand Uiat was
not refused? How did she get her
Mutiny Bill — a limited parliament — a
repeal of Pojning's Law — a constitu-
tion ? Not by the concessions of Eng-
land, but by her fears. When Ireland
asked for all these things upon her
knees, her petitions were rejected with
Percevalism and contempt ; when she
demanded them with the yoice of
60,000 armed men, they were granted
with every mark of consternation and
dismay. Ask of Lord Auckland the
fatal consequences of trifling with such
a people as the Irish. He himself was
the organ of these refusals. As secre-
tary to the Lord-Lieutenant, the inso-
lence and the tyranny of this country
passed through his hands. Ask him
if he remembers the consequences.
Ask him if he has forgotten that me-
morable evening, when he came down
booted and mantled to the House of
Commons, when he told the House he
was about to set off for Ireland that
night, and declared before God, if he
did not carry with him a compliance
with all their demands, Ireland was for
ever lost to this country. The present
generation have forgotten this ; but I
have not forgotten it ; and I know,
hasty and undignified as the submission
of England then was, that Lord Auck-
land was right, that the delay of a
single day might very probably have
separated the two people for ever. The
terms submission and fear are galling
terras, when applied from the lesser
nation to the greater ; but it is the
plain historical truth, it is the natural
consequence of injustice, it is the pre-
dicament in which every country places
itself which leaves such a mass of
hatred and discontent by its side. No
empire is powerful enough to endure it;
it would exhaust the strength of China,
and sink it with all its mandarins and
tea-kettles to the bottom of the deep.
By refusing them justice, now when
you are strong enough to refuse them
anything more than justice, you will
act over again, with the Catholics, the
same scene of mean and precipitate
submission which disgraced you before
America, and before the volunteers of

Ireland. We shall live to hear the
Hampstead Protestant pronouncing
such extravagant panegyrics upon holy
water, and paying such fulsome com*
pliments to the thumbs and offals of
departed saints, that parties will change
sentiments, and Lord Henry Petty and
Sam Whitbread take a spell at No
Popery. The wisdom of Mr. Fox was
alike employed in teaching his country
justice when Ireland was weak, and
dignity when Ireland was strong. We
are fast pacing round the same miser-
able circle of ruin and imbecility.
Alas ! where is our guide ?

You say that Ireland is a millstone
about our necks ; that it would bo
better for us if Ireland were sunk at
the bottom of the sea ; that the Irish
are a nation of irreclaimable savages
and barbarians. How often have I
heard these sentiments fall from the
plump and thoughtless squire, and
from the thriving English shopkeeper,
who has never felt the rod of an
Orange master upon his back. Ire-
land a millstone about your neck !
Why is it not a stone of Ajax in your
hand ? I agree with you most cor-
dially, that, governed as Ireland now is,
it would be a vast accession of strength
if the waves of the sea were to rise and
engulf her to-morrow. At this moment,
opposed as we are to all the world,
the annihilation of one of the most
fertile islands on the face of the globe,
containing five millions of human
creatures, would be one of the most
solid advantages which could happen
to this country. I doubt very much,
in spite of all the just abuse which
has been lavished upon Bonaparte,
whether there is any one of his con-
quered countries the blotting out of
which would be as beneficial to him
as the destructibn of Ireland would
be to us : of countries I speak differ-
ing in language from the French, little
habituated to their intercourse, and
inflamed with all the resentments of a
recently conquered people. Why will
you attribute the turbulence of our
people to any cause but the right — to
any cause but your own scandalous op-
pression ? If you tie your horse up to a
gate, and beat him cruelly, is he vicious

160

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTEB&

because be kicks yon ? If you bave
plagued and worried a mastiff dog for
years, is be mad because be flies at yon
wbenever be sees yoa ? Hatred is
an active, troublesome passion. De-
pend upon it, wbole nations bave
always some reason for their batred.
Before you refer tbe turbulence of the
Irisb to incurable defects in their
character, tell me if you have treated
them as friends and equals ? Have
yon protected their commerce ? Have
you respected their religion ? Have
you been as anxious for their freedom
as your own ? Nothing of all this.
What then ? Why you have confis-
cated the territorial surface of tbe coun-
try twice over: you have massacred
and exported her inhabitants : you have
deprived four fifths of them of every
*civii privilege : you have at every
period made her commerce and manu-
factures slavishly subordinate to your
own : and yet the hatred which tbe
Irish bear to you is tbe result of an
original turbulence of character, and
of a primitive, obdurate wildness,
utterly incapable of civilisation. The
embroidered inanities and the sixth-
form effusions of Mr. Canning are
really not powerful enough to make
me believe this; nor is there any
authority on earth (always excepting
the Dean of Christ Church) which
could make it credible to me. I am
sick of Mr. Canning. There is not a
*' ha'p'orth of bread to all this sugar
and sack." I love not the cretaceous
and incredible countenance of his col-
league. The only opinion in which
I agree with these two gentlemen is
that which they entertain of each other;
I am sure that the insolence of Mr.
Pitt, and the unbalanced accounts of
Melville, were far better than the perils
of this new ignorance : —

Nonne Aiit satiua tristes AmaryUidis iras
Atque superba pati fiutidia — nonne Me-

nalcam
Quamvis ille nigerf

In tbe midst of tbe most profound
peace, the secret articles of the Treaty
of Tilsit, in which the destruction of
Ireland is resolved upon, induce you
to rob the Danes of their fleet. After
tbe expedition sailed comes the Treaty ,

of Tilsit, containing no article*,
public or private, alluding to Ireland.
Tbe state of tbe world, you tell me,
justified us in doing this. Just God !
do we think only of tbe state of the
world when there is an opportanity
for robbery, for murder, and for plun-
der ; and do we forget the state of
the world when we are called upon to
be wise, and good, and just ? l>oe8
the state* of the world never remind
us, that we have four millions of sub-
jects whose injuries we ought to atone
for, and whose affections we ought to
conciliate ? Does the state of the
world never warn us to lay aside oar
infernal bigotry, and to arm every
man who acknowledges a God and
can grasp a sword ? Did it never
occur to this administration that they
might virtuously get hold of a force
ten times greater than the force of the
Danish fleet ? Was there no other
way of protecting Ireland, but by-
bringing eternal shame upon Grreat
Britain, and by making the earth
a den of robbers ? See what the
men whom you have supplanted
would have done. They would have
rendered the invasion of Ireland im-
possible, by restoring to the Catholics
their long-lost rights : they would
have acted in such a manner that the
French would neither have wished
for invasion, nor dared to attempt it :
they would have increased the per-
manent strength of the country while
they preserved its reputation unsullied.
Nothing of this kind your friends have
done, because they are solemnly
pledged to do nothing of this kind ;
because to tolerate all religions, and
to equalise civil rights to all sects, is
to oppose some of the worst passions
of our nature — to plunder and to op-
press is to gratify them all. They
wanted tbe huzzas of mobs, and they
iiavc for ever blasted the fame of
England to obtain them Were the
fleets of Holland, France, and Spain
destroyed by larceny ? You resisted
the power of 150 sail of the line by
sheer courage, and violated every
principle of morals from the dread of

* This is now completely oonfesaed to be
the case by ministers.

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

161

15 hulks, while the expedition itself
cost yoa three times more than the
valae of the larcenous matter brought
.away. The Erencli trample upon the
laws of God and man, not for old
cordage, but for kingdoms, and always
take care to be well paid for their
crimes. We contrive, under the pre-
sent administration, to unite moral
with intellectual deficiency, and to
grow weaker and worse by the same
action. If they had any evidence of
the intended hostility of the Danes,
why was it not produced ? Why
have the nations of Europe been al-
lowed to feel an indignation against
this country beyond the reach of all
subsequent information? Are these
times, do you imagine, when we can
trifle with a year of universal hatred,
dally with the curses of Europe, and
then regain a lost character at plea-
sure, by the parliamentary perspira-
tions of the Foreign Secretary, or the
solemn asseverations of the pecuniary
Bose? Believe me, Abraham, it is
not under such ministers as these that
the dexterity of honest Englishmen
will ever equal the dexterity of French
knaves ; it is not in their presence that
the serpent of Moses will ever swallow
up the serpents of the magician.

Lord Hawkesbury says that nothing
is to be granted to the Catholics from
fear. What ! not even justice? Why
not ? There are four nullions of dis-
affected people within twenty miles of
your own coast. I fairly confess,
that the dread which I have of their
physical power, is with me a very
strong motive for listening to their
claims. To talk of not acting from
fear is mere parliamentary cant. From
what motive but fear, I should be
glad to know, have all the improve-
ments in our constitution proceeded ?
I question if any justice has ever been
(lone to large masses of mankind from
any other motive. By what other
motives can the plunderers of the
Baltic suppose nations to be governed
in their intercourse with each other?
If I say, give this people what they
ask because it is just, do you think I
should get ten people to listen to me ?
Would not the lesser of the two

VoL.n.

Jenkinsons be the first to treat me
with contempt ? the only true way to
make the mass of mankind see the
beauty of justice, is by showing to
them in pretty plain terms the conse-
quences of injustice. If any body of
French troops land in Ireland, the
whole population of that country will
rise against you to a man, and you
could not possibly survive such an
event three years. Such from the
bottom of my soul, do I believe to be
the present state of that country ; and
so far does it appear to me to be im-
politic and unstatesmanlike to con-
cede anything to such a danger, that
if the Catholics, in addition to their
present just demands, were to petition
for the perpetual removal of the said
Lord Hawkesbury from his Majesty's
councils, I think, whatever might be
the . effect upon the destinies of
Europe, and however it might retard
our own individual destruction, that
the prayer of the petition should be
instantly complied with. Canning's
crocodile tears should not move me ;
the hoops of the maids of honour
should not hide him. I would tear
him from the banisters of the back
stairs, and plunge him in the fishy
fumes of the dirtiest of all his Cinque
Ports.

LETTER Vn.

Dbab Abraham,
In the correspondence which is pass*
ing between us you are perpetually
alluding to the Foreign Secretary ;
and in answer to the dangers of Ire-
land, which I am pressing upon your
notice, you have nothing to urge but
the confidence which you repose in the
discretion and sound sense of this
gentleman.* I can only say, that I
have listened to him long and often,

* The attack upon virtue and morals in
the debate upon Copenhagen is brought
forward with great ostentation by this.gen-
tleman's friends. But is Harlequin less
Harlequin because he acts well f I was
present: he leaped about, touched facts
with his wand, turned yes into no» and no
into yes : it was a pantomime well played,
but a pantomime: Harlequin deserves
higher wages than he did two years ago : is
he therefore fit for serious parts f

M

162

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

with the greatest attention ; I have
used every exertion in my power to
take a fair measure of him, and it ap-
pears to me impossible to hear him
upon any arduous topic without per-
ceiving that he is eminently deficient
in those solid and serious qualities
upon which, and upon which alone,
the confidence of a great country can
properly repose. He sweats, and
labours, and works for sense, and Mr.
Ellis seems always to think it is com-
ing, but it does not come ; the machine
can't draw up what is not to be found
in the spring ; Providence has made
him a light, jesting, paragraph-writ-
ing man, and that he will remain to
his dying day. When he is jocular
he is strong, when he is serious he is
like Samson in a wig : any ordinary
person is a match for him : a song, an
ironical letter, a burlesque ode, an
attack in the Newspaper upon NicoH's
eye, a smart speech of twenty minutes,
full of gross misrepresentations and
clever turns, excellent language, a
spirited manner, lucky quotation, suc-
cess in provoking dull men, some half
information picked up in Pall Mall in
the morning : these are your friend's
natural weapons ; all these things he
can do ; here I allow him to be truly
great : nay, I will be just, and go still
further, if he would confine himself to
these things, and consider the facete
and the playful to be the basis of his
character, he would for that species
of man, be universally regarded as a
person of a very good understanding ;
call him a legislator, a reasoner, and
the conductor of the affairs of a great
nation, and it seems to me as al&urd
as if a butterfly were to teach bee^s to
make honey. That he is an extraor-
dinary writer of small poetry, and a
diner out of the highest lustre, I do
most readily admit. After George
Selwyn, and perhaps Tickell, there
has been no such man for this half
century. The Foreign Secretary is a
gentleman, a respectable as well as a
highly agreeable man in private life ;
but you may as well feed me with de-
cayed potatoes as console me for the
miseries of Ireland by the resources of
his sense and his discretion. It is only |

the public situation which this gentle-
man holds which entitles me or
induces me to say so much about him.
He is a fly in amber, nobody cares
about the fly: the only question is.
How the Devil did it get there ? Nor
do I attaek him for the love of
glory, but from the love of utility, as
a burgomaster hunts a rat in a
Dutch dyke, for fear it should flood a
province.

The friends of the Catholic question
are, I observe, extremely embarrassed
in arguing when they come to the
loyalty of the Irish Catholics. As for
me, I shall go straight forward to my
object, and state what I have no man-
ner of doubt, from an intimate know-
ledge of Ireland, to be the plain truth.
Of the great Roman Catholic proprie-
tors, and of the Catholic prelates,
there may be a few, and but a few,
who would follow the fortunes of
England at all events : there is
another set of men who, thoroughly
detesting this country, have too much
property and too much character to
lose, not to wait for some very favour-
able event before they show them-
selves ; but the great mass of Catho-
hc population, upon the slightest
appearance of a iYench force in that
country, would rise upon yon to a
man. It is the most mistaken policy
to conceal the plain truth. There is
no loyalty among the Catholics : they
detest you as their worst oppressors,
and they will continue to detest you
till yon remove the cause of their
hatred. It is in your power in six
months* time to produce a total revo-
lution of opinions among this people ;
and in some future letter I will ^ow
you that this is clearly the case. At
present, see what a dreadful state Ire-
land is in. The common toast among
the low Irish is, the feast of the pass'
over. Some allusion to Bonaparte, in
a play lately acted at Dublin, pro-
duced thunders of applause from the
pit and the galleries ; and a politician
should not be inattentive to the public
feelings expressed in theatres. Mr.
Perceval thinks he has disarmed the
Irish : he has no more disarmed the
Irish than he has resigned a shilling

PETER PLTMLEY'S LETTERS.

163

of his own public emolaments. An
Irish * peasant fills the barrel of his
gun full of tow dipped in oil, batters
up the lock, buries it in a bog, and
allows the Orange bloodhound to ran-
sack his cottage at pleasure. Be just
and kind to the Irish, and you will
indeed disarm them ; rescue them from
the degraded servitude in which thej
are held bj a handful of their own
countrymen, and. you will add four
millions of brave and affectionate men
to your strength. Nightly visits, Pro-
testant inspectors, licences to possess
a pistol, or a knife and fork, the
odious vigour of the et}<mgelical
Perceval — acts of Parliament, drawn
up by some English attorney, to save
you from the luitred of four millions
of people — the guarding yourselves
from universal disaffection by a police;
a confidence in the little cunning
of Bow Street, when you might
rest your security upon the eternal
basis of the best feelings : this is the
meanness and madness to which
nations are reduced when they lose
Bight of the first elements of justice,
without which a country can be no
more secure than it can be healthy
without air. I sicken at such policy
and such men. The fact is, the
Ministers know pothing about the
present state of Ireland ; Mr. Perceval
sees- a few clergymen. Lord Castle-
reagh a few general officers, who take
care, of course, to report what is
pleasant rather than what is true. As
for the joyous and lepid consul, he
jokes upon neutral flags and frauds,
jokes upon Irish rebels, jokes upon
northern, and western, and southern*
foes, and gives himself no trouble upon
any subject : nor is the mediocrity of
the idolatrous deputy of the slightest
Qse. Dissolved in grins, he reads no
memorials upon the state of Ireland,
listens to no reports, asks no questions,
ftnd is the

" Bourn from whom no traveller returns."

* No man who is not intimately ac-
(piainted with the Irish, can tell to what
a curious extent this concealment of arms
u carried. I have stated the exact mode in
whiehitiBdone^

The danger of an immediate insur-
rection is now, I believe* f blown ovef.
Ton have so strong an army in Ire*
land, and the Irish are become so
much more cunning from the last in-
surrection, that yon may perhaps be
tolerably secure just at present frt>m
that evil : bnt are yon secure from the
efforts which the French may make
to throw a body of troops into
Ireland ? and do you consider that
event to be difficult and improbable ?
From Brest Harbour to Cape St.
Vincent, yon have above three thou-
sand miles of hostile sea coast, and
twelve or fourteen harbours quite
capable of containing a sufficient force
for the powerful invasion of Ireland.
The nearest of these harbours is not
two days' sail from the southern coast
of Ireland, with a fair leading wind ;
and the furthest not ten. Five ships
of the line, for so very short a passage,
might carry -five or six thousand
troops with cannon and ammunition ;
and Ireland presents to their attack a
southern coast of more than 500
miles, abounding in deep bays,
admirable harbours, and disaffected
inhabitants. Your blockading ships
may be forced to come home for pro-
visions and repairs, or they may be
blown off in a gale of wind and com-
pelled to bear away for their own
coast; — and you will observe, that
the very same wind which locks you
up in the British Channel when you
are got there, is evidently favourable *
for the invasion of Ireland. And yet
this is called Government, and the
people huzza Mr. Perceval for continu-
ing to expose his country day after
day to such tremendous perils as
these ; cursing the men who would
have given up a question in theology
to have saved us from such a risk.
The British empire at this moment is
in the state of a peach-blossom — if
the wind blows gently from one
quarter, it survives, if furiously from
the other, it perishes. A stiff breeze
may set in from the north, the Roche-
fort squadron will be taken, and the

* I know too much, however, of the state
of Ireland, not to speak tremblingly about
this. I hope to God I am right.

U2

164

PETER PLYMLErS LETTEE&

Minister will be the most holjr of
men : if it comes from some other
point, Ireland is gone ; we curse onr-
selves as a set of monastic madmen,
and call out for the unavailing satis-
faction of Mr. Perceval's head. Such
a state of political existence is scarcely
credible ; it is the action of a mad
young fool standing upon one foot,
and peeping down the crater of Mount
JEtna, not the conduct of a wise and
sober people deciding upon their best
and dearest interests : and in the
name, the much-injured name, of
Heaven, what is it all for that we ex-
pose ourselves to these dangers ? Is
it that we may sell more muslin ? Is
it that we may acquire more territory?
Is it that we may strengthen what We*
have already acquired ? No : no-
thing of all this ; but that one set of
Irishmen may torture another set of
Irishmen — that Sir Phelim 0*Cal-
laghan may continue to whip Sir
Toby M*Tackle, his next door neigh-
bour, and continue to radish his
Catholic daughters ; and these are the
measures which the honest and con-
sistent Secretary supports ; and this
is the Secretary, whose genius in the
estimation of Brother Abraham is to
extinguish the genius of Bonaparte.
Pompey was killed by a slave, Goliah
smitten by a stripling, Pynrhus died
by the hand of a woman ; tremble,
thou great Gaul, from whose head an
armed Minerva leaps forth in the
hour of danger ; tremble, thou
scourge of God, a pleasant man is
come out against thee, and thou shalt
be laid low by a joker of jokes, and
he shall talk his pleasant talk against
thee, and thou shalt be no more !

You tell me, in spite of all this
parade of sea coast, Bonaparte has
neither ships nor sailors ; but this is a
mistake. He has not ships and sailors
to contest the empire of the seas with
Great Britain, but these remains quite
sufficient of the navies of Prance,
Spain, Holland, and Denmark, for
these short excursions and invasions.
Do you think, too, that Bonaparte
does not add to his navy every year ?
Do yon suppose, with all Europe at
his feet, that he can find any difficulty

in obtaining timber, and that money
will not procure for him any quantity
of naval stores he may want ? The
mere machine, the empty ship, he can
build as well, and as quickly, as you
can ; and though he may not find
enough of practised sailors to man
large fighting fleets — it is not possi-
ble to conceive that he can want
sailors for such sort of purposes as I
have stated. He is at present the de-
spotic monarch of above twenty thou-
sand miles of sea coast, and yet you
suppose he cannot procure sailors for
the invasion of Ireland. Believe, if
you please, that such a fleet met at
sea by any number of our ships at all
comparable to them in point of
force, would be immediately taken,
let it be so; I count nothing upon
their power of resbtance, only upon
their power of escaping unobserved.
If experience has taught us anything,
it is the impossibility of perpetnal
blockades. The instances are innu-
merable, during the course of this war,
where whole fleets have sailed in and
out of harbour in spite of every vigi-
lance used to prevent it. I shall only
mention those cases where Ireland is
concerned. In December, 1796, seven
ships of the line, and ten transports,
reached Bantry Bay" from Brest, with-
out having seen an English ship in
their passage. It blew a storm when
they were off shore, and therefore
England still continues to be an inde-
pendent kingdom. You will observe
that at the very time the French fleet
sailed out of Brest Harbour, Admiral
Colpoys was cruising off" there with a
poweifttl squadron, and still, from the
particular circumstances of the weather,
found it impossible to prevent the
French from coming out During the
time that Admiral Colpoys was cruis-
ing off Brest, Admiral Richery, with
six ships of the line, passed him, and
got safe into the harbour. At the
very moment when the French squad-
ron was lying in Bantry Bay. Lord
Bridport with his fleet was locked up
by a foul wind in the Channel, andfor
several days could not stir to the assist-
ance of Ireland. Admiral Colpoys,
totally unable to find the French fleet,

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERa

165

came home- Lord Bridport, at the
change of the wind, cruised for them
in vain, and they got safe back to
Brest, without having seen a single
oue of those floating bulwarks, the
possession of which we believe will
enable us with impunity to set justice
and common sense at defiance. Such
is the miserable and precarious state
of an anemocracy, of a people who put
their trnst in hurricanes, and are
governed by wind. In August. 179«,
three forty-gun frigates landed 1100
men under Humbert, making the pas-
sage from Rochelle to Killala without
seeing any English ship. In October
of the same year, four French frigates
anchored in Killala Bay with 2000
troops; and though they did not land
their troops, they returned to France
in safety. In the same month, a line-
of-battle ship, eight stout frigates, and
a brig, all full of troops and stores,
reached the coast of Ireland, and were
fortunately, in sight of land, destroyed,
after an obstinate engagement, by Sir
John Warren.

If you despise the little troop which,
in these numerous experiments, did
make good its landing, take with you,
if yon please, this pricis of its exploits :
eleven hundred men, commanded by
a soldier raised from the ranks, put to
rout a select army of 6000 men, com-
manded by General Lake, seized their
ordnance, ammunition, and stores, ad-
vanced 160 miles into a country con-
taining an armed force of 150,000 men,
and at last surrendered to the Viceroy,
an experienced general, gravely and
cautiously advancing, at the head of
all his chivalry and of an immense
army, to oppose him. You must ex-
cuse these details about Ireland ; but
it appears to me to be of all other
subjects the most important. If we
conciliate Ireland, we can do nothing
amiss ; if we do not, we can do nothing
well. If Ireland was friendly, we
might equally set at defiance the talents
of Bonaparte, and the blunders of his
rival, Mr. Canning; we could then
support the ruinous and silly bustle of
our useless expeditions, and the almost
incredible ignorance of our commer-
cial Orders in ConnciL Iiet the pre-

sent administration give up but this
one point, and there is nothing which
I would not consent to grant them.
Mr. Perceval shall have full liberty to
insult the tomb of Mr. Fox, and to
torment every, eminent Dissenter in
Great Britain ; IJbrd Camden shall
have large boxes of plums ; Mr. Rose
receive permission to prefix to his
name the appellative of virtuous ; and
to the Viscount Castler^agh * a round
sum of ready money shall be well and
truly paid into his hand. Lastly, what
remains to Mr. George Canning, but
that he ride up and down Pall Mall
glorious upon a white horse, and that
they cry out before him. Thus shall it
be done to the statesman who hath
written "The Needy Knife-Grinder,"
and the German play? Adieu only
for the present; you shall soon hear
from me again ; it is a subject upon
which I cannot Ions be silent.

LETTER VIIL

Nothing can be more erroneous than
to suppose that Ireland is not bigger
than the Isle of Wight, or of more
consequence than Guernsey or Jersey;
and yet I am almost inclined to be-
lieve, from the general supineness
which prevails here respecting the
dangerous state 6f that country, that
such is the rank which it holds in our
statistical tables. I have been writing
to you a great deal about Ireland, and
perhaps it may be of some use to state
to you concisely the nature .and re-
sources of the country which has been
the subject of our long and strange
correspondence. There were returned,
as I have before observed, to the
hearth tax, in 1791, 701,132 f houses,
which Mr. Newenham shows, from
unquestionable documents, to be nearly
80,000 below the real number of

* This is a very unjust imputation on
Lord Gastlereagh.

tThe checks to population were very
trifling from the rebellion. It lasted two
months: of his Majesty's Irish forces there
perished about 1600: of the rebels 11,000
were killed in the field, and 2000 hanged or
exported: 400 loyal persons were assassi-
nated

MS

166

FETEB FLYMLET^ LETTEB&

honses in that coantry. There are
27,457 square English miles in Ire-
land *, and more than five millions of
people.

By the last snrrej it appears that
the inhabited hooaes in England and
Wales amount to 1,574,902; and the
]X>pnlation to 9,343,578, which gives
an average of 5{ to each hoase, in a
country where the deosi^ of popula-
tion is certainly less considerable than
in Ireland. It is commonly supposed
that two-fifths of the army and navy
are Irishmen, at periods when political
disaffection does not avert the Catho-
lics from the service. The current
value of Irish exports in 1807 was
9,314,8542. 17<. 7dL ; a state of com-
merce about equal to the commerce of
England in the itaiddle of the reign of
George IL The tonnage of ships
entered inward and cleared outward
in the trade of Ireland, in 1807,
amounted to 1,567,430 tons. The
quantity of home spirits exported
amounted to 10,284 gallons in 1796,
and to 930,800 gallons in 1804. Of
the exports which I have stated, pro-
visions amounted to four millions, and
linen to about four millions and a half.
There was exported from Ireland,
upon an average of two years ending
in January, 1804, 591,274 barrels of
barley, oats, and wheat; and by weight
910,848 cwts. of flour, oatmeal, barley,
oats, and wheat The amount of
butter exported in 1804, from Ireland,
was worth, in money, 1,704,680/.
sterling. The importation of ale and
beer, from the immense manufactures
now carrying on of these articles, was
dimmished to 3209 barrels, in the year
1804, from 111,920 barrels, which was
the average importation per annum,
taking from three years ending in
1792 ; and at present there is an ex-
port trade of porter. On an average
of the three years ending March, 1783,
there were imported into Ireland, of
cotton wool, 3326 cwts., of cotton
yarn, 5405 lbs. ; but on an average of
three years, ending January, 1803,
there were imported, of the first ar-
ticle, 13,159 c\ns., and of the latter,

* In England 49,460.

628,406 lbs. It is impossible to con-
ceire any mannfiacture more flourishing.
The export of linen has increased in
Ireland firom 17,776,362 yards, the
average in 1770, to 43,534,971 yards,
the amount in 1805. The tillage of Ire-
land has more than trebled within the
last twenty-one years. The impor-
tation of coals has increased from
230,000 tons, in 1783, to 417,030, in
1804 ; of tobacco, from 3,459,861 lbs.
in 1783, to 6,611,543, in 1804; of
tea, from 1,703,855 lbs. in 1783, to
3,358,256, in 1804; of sugar, fr-om
143,117 cwts. in 1782, to 309,076, in
1804. Ireland now supports a funded
debt of about 64 millions ; and it is
computed that more than three millions
of money are annually remitted to
Irish absentees resident in this country.
In Mr. Foster's report, of 100 folio
pages, presented to the House of
Commons in the year 1806, the total
expenditure of Ireland is stated at
9,760,0132. Ireland has increased
about two-thirds in its population
within twenty-five years; and yet,
and in about the same space of time,
its exports of beef, bullocks, cows,
pork, swine, butter, wheat, barley, and
oats, collectively taken, have doubled ;
and this in spite of two years' famine,
and the presence of an immense army,
that is always at hand to guard the
most valuable appanage of our empire
from joining our most inveterate ene-
mies. Ireland has the greatest possible
facilities for carrying on commerce with
the whole of Europe: It contains,
within a circuit of 750 miles, 66 secure
harboars ; and presents a western
frontier against Great Britain, reach-
ing from the Firth of Clyde, north, to
the Bristol Channel, south, and vary-
ing in distance from 20 to 100 miles ;
so that the subjugation of Ireland
would compel us to guard with ships
and soldiers a new line of coast,
certainly amounting, with all its sinu-
osities, to more than 700 miles — an
addition of polemics, in our present
state of hostility with all the world,
which must highly gratify the vigorists,
and give them an ample opportunity
of displaying that foolish energy upon
which their claims to distinction are

PETER FLYMLBY>S LETTERS.

167

founded. Sach is the coantiy which
the Right Reverend the Chancellor of
the Exchequer would drive into the
anns of France ; and for the concili-
ation of which we are requested to
wait, as if it were one of those sinecure
places which were given to Mr. Perce-
val snarling at the hreast, and which
cannot he abolished till his decease.

How sincerely and fetventlj have I
often wished that the Emperor of the
French had thought as Mr. Spencer
Perceval does upon the subject of
government; that he had entertained
doubts and scruples upon the pro-
priety of admitting the Protestants to
an equality of rights with the Catholics,
and that he had left in the middle of
bisempire these vigorous seeds of hatred
and disaffection ! • But the world was
never yet conquered by a blockhead.
One of the very first measures we saw
him recurring to was the complete
establishment of religious liberty : if
his subjects fought and paid as he
pleased, he allowed them to believe as
they pleased : the moment I saw this,
my best hopes were lost. I perceived
in a moment the kind of man wc had
to do with. I was well aware of the
miserable ignorance and folly of this
country upon the subject of toleration ;
and every year has been adding to the
success of that game which it was
dear he had the will and the ability
to play against us.

You say Bonaparte is not in earnest
upon the subject of religion, and that
this is the cause of his tolerant spirit ;
bat is it possible you can intend to
give us such dreadful and unamiable
notions of religion ? Are we to under-
stand that the moment a man is sincere
he is narrow-minded ; that persecution
is the child of belief; and that a
desire to leave all men in the quiet
and unpunished exercise of their own
creed can only exist in the mind of an
infidel ? Thank God I I know many
men whose principles are as firm as
they are expanded, who cling tenaci-
ously to their own modification of the
Christian faith, without the slightest
disposition to force that modification
vpon other people. If Bonaparte is
liberal in subjects of religion because

he has no religion^ is this a reason why
we should be illiberal because we are
Christians ? If he owes this excellent
quality to a vice, is that any reason
why we may not owe it to a virtue ?
Toleration is a great good, and a good
to be imitated, let it come from whom
it will. If a sceptic is tolerant, it only
shows that he is not foolish in practice
as well as erroneous in theory. * If a
religious man is tolerant, it evinces
that he is religious from thought and
inquiry, because he exhibits in his
conduct one of the most beautiful and
important consequences of a religious
mind, — an inviolable charity to
all the honest varieties of human
opinion.

Lopd Sidmouth, and all the anti-
Catholic people, little foresee that they
will hereafter be the sport of the anti-
quary; that their prophecies of ruin
and destruction from Catholic emanci-
pation will be clapped into the notes of
some quaint history^ and be matter of
pleasantry even to the sedulous house-
wife and the rural dean. There is
always a copious supply of Lord Sid-
mouths in the world ; nor is there one
single source of human happiness,
against which they have not uttered
the most lugubrious predictions. Turn-
pike roads, navigable canals, inocula-
tion, hops, tobacco, the Reformation,
the Revolution — there are always a
set of worthy and moderately-gifted
men, who bawl out death and ruin
upon every valuable change which the
varying aspect of human affairs abso-
lutely and imperiously requires. I
have often thought that it woufd be
extremely useful to make a collection
of the hatred and abuse that all those
changes have experienced, which are
now admitted to be marked improve-
ments in our condition. Such a his-
tory might make folly a little more
modest, and suspicious of its own
decisions.

Ireland, you say, since the Union,
is to be considered as a part of the
whole kingdom ; and therefore, how-
ever Catholics may predominate in
that particular spot, yet, taking the
whole empire together, they are to be
considered as a much more insignifi*

M4-

168

PETER PLYMLEY*S LETTERS.

cant qaota of the population* Consider
them in what light yoa please, as part
of the whole, or hy themselves, or in
what manner maj be most consen-
taneous to the devices of your holy
mind — I say in a very few words, if
you do not relieve these people from
the civil incapacities to which they
are exposed, you will lose them ; or
you must employ great strength and
much treasure in watching over them.
In the present state of the world, yon
can afford to do neither the one nor
the other. Having stated this, I shall
leave you to be ruined, Fuffendorf in
hand (as Mr. Secretary Canning says),
and to lose Ireland, just as you have
found out what proportion the ag-
grieved people should bear to the
whole population, before their cala-
mities meet with redress. As for your
parallel cases, I am no more afraid of
deciding upon them than I am npon
their prototype. If ever any one
heresy should so far spread itself over
the principality of Wales that the
Established Church were left in a
minority of one to four ; if you had
subjected these heretics to very severe
civil privations ; if the consequence of
such privations were a universal state
of disaffection among that caseous and
wrathful people ; and if at the same
time you were at war with all the
world, how can you doubt for a moment
that I would instantly restore them to
a state of the most complete civil
liberty? What matters it under what
name you put the same case ? Com-
mon, sense is not changed by appel-
lations. I have said how I would act
to Ireland, and I would act so to all
the world.

I admit that, to a certain degree,
the Government will lose the affections
of the Orangemen by emancipating
the Catholics ; much less, however, at
present, than three years past. The
few men, who have ill*treated the
whole crew, live in constant terror
that the oppressed people will rise upon
them and carry the ship into Brest: —
they begin to find that it is a very
turesome thing to sleep every night
with cocked pistols under their pillows,
and to brefUcfast, dine, and sup with

drawn hangers. They suspect that
the privilege of beating and kicking
the rest of the sailors is hardly worth
all this anxiety, and that if the ship
does ever fall into the hands of the
disaffected, all the cruelties which they
have experienced will be thorooghly
remembered and amply repaid. To a
short period of disaffection among the
Orangemen, I confess I should not
much object: my love of poetical
justice does carry me as far as that ;
one summer's whipping, only one: the
thumb-screw for a short season ; a
little light easy torturing between
Lady-day and Michaelmas ; a short
specimen of Mr. Percevars rigour. I
have malice enough to ask tUs slight
atonement for the groans and shrieks
of the poor Catholics, unheard by any
human tribunal, but registered by the
Angel of €rod against their Protestant
and enlightened oppressors.

Besides, if yon who count ten so
often can count five, you most per-
ceive that it is better to have fonr
friends and one enemy than four
enemies and one friend ; and the more
violent the hatred of the Orangemen,
the more certain the reconciliation of
the Catholics. The disaffection of the
Orangemen will be the Irish rainl)ow ;
when I see it, I shall be sure that the
storm is over.

If those incapacities, from which the
Catholics ask to be relieved, were to
the mass of them only a mere feeling
of pride, and if the question were res-
pecting the attainment of privileges
which could be of importance only to
the highest of the sect, I should still
say, that the pride of the mass was
very naturally wounded by the degra-
dation of their superiors, indignity
to George Rose would be felt by the
smallest nummary gentleman in the
king's employ; and Mr. John Bannister
could not be indifferent to anything
which happened to Mr. Canning. But
the truth is, it is a most egregious mis-
take to suppose that the Catholics are
contending merely for the fringes and
feathers of their chiefs. I will give
yon a list, in my next Letter, of those
privations which are represented to be
of no consequence to anybody but

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

169

Lord Finga], and some twentj or
thirty of the principal persons of their
sect. In the meantime, adieu, and be
wise.

LETTER IX.

Dear Abraham,
Ko Catholic can be chief Governor or
Governor of this Kingdom, Chancellor
or Keeper of the Great Seal, Lord
High Treasurer, Chief of any of the
Courts of Justice, Ctiancellor of the
Exchequer, Puisne Judge, Judge in
the Admiralty, Master of the Bolls,
Secretary of State, Keeper of the
Privy Seal, Vice-Treasurer or his
Deputy, Teller or Cashier of Ex-
chequer, Auditor or General, Governor
or Cnstos Rotulorum of Counties,
Chief Governor's Secretary, Privy
Councillor, King's Counsel, Sergeant,
Attorney, Solicitor-General, Master in
Chancery, Provost or Fellow of Trinity
College, Dublin, Postmaster-General,
Master and Lieutenant- General of Or-
dnance, Commander-in-Chief, General
on the Staff, Sheriff, Sub- Sheriff,
Mayor, Bailiff, Recorder, Burgess, or
any other officer in a City, or a Cor-
poration. No Catholic can be guardian
to a Protestant, and no priest guardian
at all: no Catholic can be a game-
keeper, or have for sale, or other-
wise, any arms or warlike stores : no
Catholic can present to a living, unless
he choose to turn Jew in order to obtain
that privilege; the pecuniary qualifi-
cation of Catholic jurors is made higher
than that of Protestants^ and no relax-
ation of the ancient rigorous code is
permitted, unless to those who shall
take an oath prescribed by 13 & 14
Geo. IIL Now if this is not picking
the plums out of the pudding, and
leaving the mere batter to the Catholics,
I know not what is. If it were merely
the Privy Council, it would be (I allow)
nothing but a point of honour for
which the mass of Catholics were con-
tending, the honour of being chief-
mourners or pall- bearers to the country;
but surely no man will contend that
every barrister may not speculate upon
the' possibility of being a puisne Judge;

and that every shopkeeper must not feel
himself injured by his exclusion from
borough offices.

One of flie greatest practical evil«
which the Catholics suffer in Ireland
is their exclusion from the offices of
Sheriff and Deputy Sheriff. Noliody
who is unacquainted with Ireland can
conceive the obstacles which this
opposes to the fair administration of
justice. The formation of juries is
now entirely in the hands of the
Protestants ; the lives, liberties, and
properties of the Catholics in the
hands of the juries; and this is the*
arrangement for the adminbtration of
justice in a country where religious
prejudices are inflamed to the greatest
degree of animosity! In this country,
if a man be a foreigner, if he sell
slippers, and sealing wax, and artificial
flowers, we are so tender of human
life that we take care half the number
of persons who are to decide upon his
fate should be men of similar prejudices
and feelings with himself : but a poor
Catholic in Ireland may be tried by
twelve Percevals, and destroyed ac-
cording to the manner of that gentle-
man in the name of the Lord, and
with all the insulting forms of justice.
I do not go the length of saying that
deliberate and wilful injustice is done.
I have no doubt that the Orange
Deputy Sheriff thinks it would be a
most unpardonable breach of his duty
if he did not summon a Protestant
panel. I can easily believe that a
Protestant panel may conduct them-
selves very conscientiously in hanging
the gentlemen of the cruciflx ; but J
blame the law which does not guard
the Catholic against the probable tenor
of those feelings which must uncon-
sciously influence the judgments of
mankind. I detest that state of society
which extends unequal degrees of pro-
tection to different creeds and per-
suasions ; and I cannot describe to
you the contempt I feel for a man who,
calling himself a statesman, defends a
system which fills the heart of every
Irishman with treason, and makes his
allegiance prudence, not choice.

I request to know if the vestry
taxes in Ireland are a mere matter of

170

FETEB FLYMLET^ LETTERS.

romaiitic feeling, which can affect onlj
theEariofFin^? InaparishiHiere
there are four thoosand Catholics and
fifty IVotestants, the Protestants maj
meet together in a vestiy meeting, at
which no Catholic has the right to
vote, and tax all the lands in the
parish Is. 6d. per acre, or in the
pound, I forget which, for the repairs
of the church — and how has the ne-
cessity of these repairs heen ascertain-
ed ? A Protestant plumber has dis-
coyered that it wants new leading ; a
Protestant carpenter is convinced the
timbers are not sound, and the glaziei^
who hates holy water (as an accoucheur
hates celibacy because he gets nothing
by it) is employed to put in new sashes.
The grand juries in Ireland are the
great scene of jobbing. They have a
power of making a county rate to a
considerable extent for roads, bridges,
and other objects of general accom-
modation. ** You suffer the road to be
brought through my park, and I will
have the bridge constructed in a situ-
ation where it will make a beautiful
object to your bouse. You do my job,
and I will do yours.** These are the
sweet and interesting subjects which
occasionally occupy Milesian gentle-
men while they are attendant upon this
grand inquest of justice. But there is
a religion, it seems, even in jobs ; and
it will be highly gratifying to Mr.
Perceval to learn that no man in Ireland
who believes in seven sacraments can
carry a public road, or bridge, one
yard out of the direction most benefi-
cial to the public, and that nobpdy can
cheat that public who does not expound
the Scriptures in the purest and most
orthodox manner. This will give
pleasure to Mr. Perceval: but, from
his unfairness upon these topics, I
appeal to the justice and the proper
feelings of Mr. Huskisson. I ask him
if the human mind can experience a
more dreadful sensation than to see its
own jobs refused, and the jobs of
another religion perpetually succeed-
ing ? I ask him his opinion of a job-
less faith, of a creed which dooms a
man through life to a lean and plunder-
less integrity. He knows that human
nature cannot and will not bear it ;

and if we were to paint a political
Tartarus, it would be an endless series
of snug expectations, and cruel disap-
pointments. These are a few of many
dreadfid inconveniences which the
Catholics of all ranks suffer from, the
laws by which they are at present
oppressed. Besides, look at human
nature: — what is the history of all
professions ? Joel is to be brought up
to the bar: has Mrs. Plyndey the
slightest doubt of his being Chancellor?
Do not his two shrivelled aunts live in
the certainty of seeing him in that
situation, and of cutting out with their
own hands his equity habiliments?
And I could name a certain minister
of the Grospel who does not, in the
bottom of his heart, much differ fbom
these opinions. Do you think that
the fathers and mothers of the holy
Catholic Church are not as absurd as
Protestant papas and mammas? The
probability I admit to be, in each par-
ticular case, that the sweet little block-
head will in fact never get a brief; —
but I will venture to say, there is not
a parent from the Giant's Causeway
to Bantry Bay who does not conceive
that his child is the unfortunate victim
of the exclusion, and that nothing
short of positive law could prevent his
own dear pre-eminent Paddy from
rising to the highest honoara of the
State. So with the antay, and parlia-
ment ; in fact, few are excluded ; but
in imagination, all: you keep twenty
or thirty Catholics out, and you lose
the affections of four millions; and,
let me tell you, that recent circum-
stances have by no means tended to
diminish in the minds of men that
hope of elevation beyond their own
rank which is so congenial to our
nature: from pleading for John Roe
to taxing John Ball, from jesting for
Mr. Pitt and writing in the Anti-
Jacobin, to managing the affairs of
Europe — these are leaps which seem
to justify the fondest dreams of mothers
and of aunts.

I do not say that the disabilities to
which the Catholics are exposed amount
to such intolerable grievances, that the
strength and industry of a nation are
overwhelmed by them: the increasing

I*ETEB PLYMLETS LETTEpS.

prosperit7 of Ireland fully demonstrates
to the contrary. Bat I repeat again,
what I have often stated in the coarse
of oar correspondence, that your laws
against the Catholics are exactly in
that state in which yon hare neither
the benefits of rigour nor of liberality:
every law which prevented the Catho-
lic from gaining strength and wealth is
repealed; every law which can irritate
remains; if you were determined to
insnlt the Catholics, you should have
kept them weak; if you resolved to
give them strength, you should have
ceased to insult them; — at present
yonr conduct is pure unadulterated
folly.

Lord Hawkesbury says. We heard
nothing about the Catholics till we
began to mitigate the laws against
them ; when we relieved them in part
from this oppression they began to be
disaffected. This is very true ; but it
proves just what I have said, that you
have either done too much, or too
little ; and as there lives not, I hope,
upon earth, so depraved a courtier that
he would load the Catholics with their
ancient chains, what absurdity it is
then not to render their dispositions
friendly, when you leave their arms and
legs free I

You know, and many Englishmen
know, what passes in China ; but no-
body knows or cares what passes in
Ireland. At the beginning of the
present reign, no Catholic could realise
property, or carry on any business;
they were absolutely annihilated, and
had no more agency in the country
than so many trees. They were like
Lord Mulgrave's eloquence and Lord
Camden's wit; the legislative bodies
did not know of their existence. For
these twenty-five years last past, the
Catholics have been engaged in com-
merce ; within that period the com-
merce of Ireland has doubled ; — there
are four Catholics at work for one
Protestant, and eight Catholics at
work for one Episcopalian ; of coarse,
the proportion which Catholic wealth
bears to Protestant wealth is every
year altering rapidly in favour of the
Catholics. I have already told you
what their purchases of land were the

171

last year: since that period, I have
been at some^pains to find out the
acta^ state of the Catholic wealth: it
is impossible, upon such a subject, to
arrive at complete accuracy; but I have
good reason to believe tnat there are
at present 2000 Catholics in Ireland,
possessing an income from 5002. up*
wards, many of these with incomes of
one, two, three and four thousand,
and some amounting to fifteen and
twenty thousand per annum: — and
this is the kingdom, and these the
people, for whose conciliation we are
to wait, Heaven knows when, and
Lord Hawkesbury why I As for me,
I never think of the situation of Ire-
land without feeling the same necessity
for immediate interference as I should
do if I saw blood flowing from a great
artery. I rush towards it with the
instinctive rapidity of a man desirous
of preventing death, and have no other
feeling but that in a few seconds the
patient may be no more.

I could not help smiling in the
times of No Popery, to witness the
loyal indignation of many persons at
the attempt made by the last ministry
to do something for the relief of Ire-
land. • The general cry in the country
was, that they would not see their
beloved Monarch used ill in his old
age, and that they would stand by him
to the last drop of their blood. I re-
spect good feelings, however erroneous
be the occasions on which they display
themselves ; and therefore I saw in all
this as much to admire as to blame.
It was a species of affection, however,
which reminded me very forcibly of
the attachment displayed by the ser-
vants of the Bussian ambassador, at
the beginning of the last century. His
Excellency happened to fall down in
a kind of apoplectic fit, when he was
paying a morning visit in the hoose of
an acquaintance. The confusion was
of course very great, and messengers
were despatched, in every direction, to
find a surgeon ; who, upon his arrival,
declared that his Excellency must be
immediately blooded, and prepared
himself forthwith to perform the oper-
ation: the barbarous servants of the
embassy, who were there in great

178

I^EB PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

numben, no sooner saw the snrgeon
prepared to woond the arm of their
master with a sharp shining instm-
ment,- than thej drew their swords, pat
themselves in an attitude of defence,
and swore in pore Sclavonic, **that
tbej would murder an j man who at-
tempted to do him the slightest injury:
he had been a very go^ master to
them, and they would not desert him
in his misfortunes, or suffer his blood
to be shed while he was off his guard,
and incapable of defending himself.**
By good fortune, the secretary arrived
about this period of the dispute, and
his Excellency, relieved from super-
fluous blood and perilous affection, was,
after much di65calty, restored to life.

There is an argument brought for-
ward with some appearance of plausi-
bility in the House of Conunons, which
certainly merits an answer: You know
that the Catholics now vote for mem-
bers of parliament in Ireland, and that
they outnumber the Protestants in a
very great proportion ; if you allow
Catholics to sit in parliament, religion
will be found to influence votes more
than property, and the greater part of
the 100 Iridh members who are re-
turned to parliament will be Catholics.
— Add to these the Catholic members
who are returned in England, and
you will have a phalanx of heretical
strength which every minister will be
compelled to respect, and occasionally
to conciliate by concessions incom-
patible with the interests of the Pro-
testant Church. The fact is, however,
that you are at this moment subjected
to every danger of this kind which
yon can possibly apprehend hereafter.
If the spiritual interests of the voters
are more powerful than their temporal
interests, they can bind down their
representatives to support any measures
favourable to the Catholic religion, and
they can change the objects of their
choice till they have found Protestant
members (as they easily may do) per-
fectly obedient to their wishes. If
the superior possessions of the Pro-
testants prevent the Catholics from
uniting for a common politick object,
then the danger you fear cannot exist:
if zeal, on the contrary, gets the better

of acres, then the danger at present
exists, from the right of voting already
given to the Catholics, and it will not
be increased by allowing them to sit
in parliament. There are, as nearly
as I can recollect, thirty seats in Ire-
land f(Nr cities and counties, where the
Protestants are the most numerous,
and where the members returned must
of course be Protestants. In the other
seventy representations, the wealth of
the IVotestants is opposed to the
number of the Catholics ; and if all
this seventy members returned wero
of the Catholic persuasion, they must
still plot the destruction of our reli^on
in the midst of 588 Protestants. Such
terrors would disgrace a cook-maid,
or a toothless aunt — when they fall
from the lips of bearded and sena-
torial men, they are nauseous, anti-
peristaltic, and emeticaL

How can you for a moment donbt
of the rapid effects which would be
produced by the emancipation ? — In
the first place, to my certain know«
ledge, the Catholics have long since
expressed to his Majesty's ministers
their perfect readiness to vest in his
Majesty, either with the consent of the
Pope, or without it if it cannot be ob-
tained, the nomination of die Catholic pre^
lacy. The Catholic prelacy in Ireland
consists of twenty-six bishops and the
warden of Galway, a dignitary enjoying
Catholic jurisdiction. The number
of Roman Catholic priests in Ireland
exceeds one thousand. The expenses
of his peculiar worship are, to a sub-
stantial farmer or mechanic, five shil-
lings per annum ; to a labourer (where
he is not entirely excused) one shilling
per annum ; this includes the contri-
bution of the whole family, cmd for
this the priest is bound to attend them
when sick, and to confess them when'
they apply to him : he is also to keep
his chapel in order, to celebrate divine
service, and to preach on Sundays and
holydays. In the northern district a
priest gains from 30/. to 50/. ; in the
other parts of Ireland from 60/. to
90/. per ann. The best paid Catholic
bishops receive about 400/. per ann. ;
the others irom 300/. to 350/. My
plan is very simple ; I would have

F£TEB PLTMLEY'S LETTERS.

173

300 Catholic parishes at 100/. per ann.,
300 at 200il per ann., and 400 at
300^ per ann. ; this, for the whole
thoasand parishes, would amoant to
190,0002. To the prelacy I would
allot 20,000/. in nneqaal proportions,
from lOOOiL to 500/. ; and I would ap-
propriate 40,000/. more for the support
of Catholic schools, and the repairs of
Catholic churches ; the whole amount
of which sum is 250,000/., ahout the
expense of three days of one of our
genuine, good, English, just and ne-
cesmry wars. The clergy should all
receive their salaries at the Bank of
Ireland, and I would place the whole
patronage in the hands of the Crown.
Now, I appeal to any human heing,
except Spencer Perceval, Esq., of the
parish of Hampstead, what the dis-
afiection of a clergy would amount to,
gaping after this graduated bounty
of the Crown, and whether Ignatius
Loyola himself, if he were a living
blockhead, instead of a dead saint,
could withstand the temptation of
boancing from 100/^ a year at Sligo,
to 300/. in Tipperary? This is the
miserable sum of money for which
the merchants, and landowners, and
nobility of England are exposing them-
selves to the tremendous peril of losing
Ireland, The sinecure places of the
Roses and the Percevals, and the " dear
and near relations,'* put up to auction
at thirty years' purchase, would almost
amount to the money.

I admit that nothing can be more
reasonable than to expect that a Catho-
lic priest should, starve to death, gen-
teelly and pleasantly, for the good of
the Protestant religion; but is it
equally reasonable to expect that he
shoold do so for the Protestant pews,
and Protestant brick and mortar ? On
an Irish Sabbath, the bell of a neat
parish church often summons to church
only the parson and an occasionally
conforming clerk ; while, two hundred
yards off, a thousand Catholics are
huddled together in a miserable hovel,
and pelted by all the storms of heaven.
Can anything be more distressing than
to see a venerable man pouring forth
sublime truths in tattered breeches,
and depending for his food upon the

little offal he gets from his parish-
ioners? I venerate a human being
who starves for his principles, let them
be what they may; but starving for
anything is not at all to the taste of
the honourable flagellants: strict prin-
ciples, and good pay, is the motto of
Wr. Percev^: the one he keeps in great
measure for the faults of his enemies,
the'other for himself.

There are parishes in Connaught in
which a Protestant was never settled,
nor even seen: in that province, in
Munster, and in parts of Leinster, the
entire peasantry for sixty miles are
Catholics ; in these tracts the churches
are frequently shut for want of a con-
gregation, or opened to an assemblage
of from six to twenty persons. Of
what Protestants there are in Lrelandt
the greatest part are gathered together
in Ulster, or they live in towns. In
the country of the other three pro-
vinces the Catholics see no other re-
ligion but their own, and are at the
least as fifteen to one Protestant. In
the diocese of Tuam they are sixty
to one; in the parish of St. Mullins,
diocese of Leghlin, there are four
thousand Catholics and one Protestant;
in the town of Grasgenamana, in the
county of ELilkenny, there are between
four and five hundred Catholic houses,
and three Protestant houses. In the
parish of Allen, county Elildare, there
is no Protestant, though it is very po-
pulous. In the parish of Arlesin,
Queen's County, the proportion is one
hundred to one. In the whole county
of Kilkenny, by actual enumeration, it
is seventeen to one ; in the diocese of
Kilmacduagh, province of Connaught,
fifty-two to one, by ditto. These I
give yon as a few specimens of the
present state of Ireland ; — and yet
there are men impudent and ignorant
enough to contend that such evils re-
quire no remedy, and that mild family
man who dwelleth in Hampstead can
find none but the cautery and the
knife.

omne per ignem

Exootjultur vitium.

I cannot describe the horror and
disgust which I felt at hearing Mr.

174

FETEB FLYMLET'S LETTEB&

Perceval call upon the then ministry
for meaanres of vigonr in Ireland. If
I lived at Hampiiead npon stewed
meats and claret; if I walked to chnrch
every Sunday before eleven young gen-
tlemen of my own begetting, with their
facet washed, and their hair pleasingly
combed: if the Almighty had blessed
me with every earthly comfort — how
awfhlly wonld I pause before I sent
forth the flame and the sword over the
cabins of the poor, brave, generous,
open-hearted peasants of IreUnd I How
easy it is to shed human blood — how
easy it is to persuade ourselves that it
is our duty to do so — and that the de-
cision has cost us a severe struggle^ —
how much in all ages have wounds
and shrieks and tears been the cheap
and vulgar resources of the rulers of
mankind — how difficult and how noble
it is to govern in kindness and to found
an empire upon the everlasting basis
of justice and affection ! — ^But what do
men call vigour ? To let loose hussars
and to bring up artillery, to govern
with lighted matches, and to cut, and
push, and prime— I call this, not vigour,
but the shth of crudty and ignorance.
The vigonr i love consists in finding
out wherein subjects are aggrieved, in
relieving them, in studying die temper
and genius of a people, in consulting
their prejudices, in selecting proper
persons to lead and manage them, in
the laborious, watchitil, and difficult
task of increasing public happiness by
allaying each particular discontent.
In this way Hoche pacified La Vendee
— and in this way only will Ireland
ever be subdued. But this, in the eyes
Of Mr. Perceval, is imbecility and
meanness : houses are not broken open
—women are not insulted — the people
seem all to be happy ; they are not
rode over by horses, and cut by whips.
Do yon call this vigour? — Is this
government ? s

LETTER X. AND LAST.

You must observe that all I have said
of the effects which will be produced
by giving salaries to the Catholic
Clergy, only proceeds upon the suppo-

sition that the emancipation of the
laity is effected : — without that, I am
sure there is not a clergyman in Ire-
land who would receive a shilling from
government ; he could not do .so,
without an entire loss of credit among
the members of his own persnasioo.

What you say of the moderation of
the Irish Protestant Clergy in collect-
ing tithes, is, I believe, strictly tme.
Instead of collecting what the law
enables them to collect, I believe they
seldom or ever collect more than two
thirds ; and I entirely agree with yon,
that the abolition of agistment tithe in
Ireland by a vote of the Irish House
of Commons, and without any remu-
neration to the Church, was a most
scandalous and Jacobinical measure.
I do not blame the Irish clergy ; but I
submit to your conmion sense, if it be
possible to explain to an Irish peasant
upon what principle of justice, or com-
mon sense, he is to pay every tenth
potato in his little garden to a clergy-
man in whose religion nobody believes
for twenty miles around him, and who
has nothing to preach to but bare walls.
It is true, if the tithes are bought up,
the cottager must pay more rent to his
landlord ; but the same thing done in
the shape of rent, is less odious than
when it is done in the shape of tithe.
I do not want to take a shilling out of
the pockets of the clergy, but to leave
the substance of things, and to change
their names. I cannot see the slightest
reason why the Irish labourer is to be
relieved fh)m the real onus, or from
anything else but the name of tithe.
At present he rents only nine tenths of
the produce of the land ; which is all
that belongs to the owner ; this he has
at the market price ; if the landowner
purchase the other tenth of the Church,
of course he has a right to make a cor-
respondent advance upon his tenant.

I very much doubt, if you were to
lay open all civil offices to the Catholics,
and to grant salaries to their clergy,
in the manner I have stated, if the
Catholic laity would give themselves
much trouble about Uie advance of
their Church; for they would pay the
same tithes under one system that they
do nnder another. If yon were to

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

175

bring the Catholics into the daylight of
the world, to the high sitaations of the
armj, the navj, and the bar, nambers
of them would come OTer to the Estab-
lished Church, and do as other people
do; instead of that, jou set a mark of
iflfam J upon them, rouse every passion
of our nature in favour of their creed,
and then wonder that men are blind to
the foUies of the Catholic religion.
There are hardly any instances of old
and rich families among the Protestant
Dissenters : when a man keeps a coach,
and lives in good company, he comes
to church, and gets ashamed of the
meeting-house; if this is not the case
with the father, it is almost always the
case with the son. These things would
never be so, if the Dissenters were in
practice as much excluded from all the
concerns of civil life, as the Catholic^
iu*e. If a rich young Catholic were in
parliament, he would belong to White's
and to Brookes's, would keep race-
horses, would walk up and down Pall
Mall, be exonerated of his ready money
and his constitution, become as totally
devoid of morality, honesty, knowledge,
and civility as rrotestant loungers in
Pall Mall, and return home with a
sapreme contempt for Father O'Leary
and Father O'Callaghan. I am as-
tonished at the madness of the Ca^
tholic clei^, in not perceiving that
Catholic emancipation is Catholic in-
fidelity; that to entangle their people
in the intrigues of a l^otestant parlia-
ment, and a Protestant Court, is to
insure the less of every man of fashion
and consequence in their community.
The true receipt for preserving their
religion, is Mr. Perceval's receipt for
destroying it; it is to deprive every
rich Catholic of all the objects of se-
cular ambition, to separate him from
the Protestant, and to shut him up in
his castle with priests and relics.

We are told, in answer to all our
arguments, that this is not a fit period, —
that a period of universal war is not
the proper time for dangerous innova-
tions in the constitution : this is as
much as to say, that the worst time for
makmg friends is the period when you
have made many enemies; that it is
the greatest of all errors to • stop

when you are breathless, and to lie
down when you are fatigued. Of one
thing I am quite certain : if the safety
of Europe is once completely restored,
the Catholics may for ever bid adieu to
the slightest probability of effecting
their object. Such men as hang about
a court not only are deaf to the sugges-
tions of mere justice, but they despise
justice ; they detest the word right ;
the only word which rouses them is
perd ; where they can oppress with im-
punity, they oppress for ever, and call
it loyalty and wisdom*

lam so far from conceiving the legiti-
mate strength of the Crown would be
diminished by those abolitions of civil
incapacities inconsequence of religious
opinions, that my only objection to the
increase of religious freedom is, that it
would operate as a diminution of po-
litical freedom : the power of the Crown
is so overbearing at this period, that
almost the only steady opposers of its
fatal influence are men disgusted by
religious intolerance. Our establish-
ments are so enormous, and so utterly
disproportioned to our population, that
every second or third man you meet in
society gains something from the pub-
lic ; my brother the commissioner, —
my nephew the police justice, — pur-
veyor of small bKBcr to the army in
Ireland, — clerk of the mouth,— yeoman
to the left hand, — these are the ob-
stacles which common sense and justice
have now to overcome. Add to this,
that the King, old and infirm, excites
a principle of very amiable generosity
in his favour; that he has led a good,
moral, and religious life, equally re«
moved from profligacy and methodis-*
tical hypocrisy; that he has been a
good husband, a good father, and a
good master; that he dresses plain,
loves hunting and farming, hates the
French, and is, in all his opinions and
habits, quite English: — these feelings
are heightened by the present situation
of the world, and the yet unexploded
clamour of Jacobinism. In short, from
the various sources of interest, personal
regard, and national taste, such a tem-
pest of loyalty has set in upon the
people that the 47th proposition in
Euclid might now be voted down with

176

PETER PLYMLET'S LETTEB&

as mach e«M as anj proposition in
politics; and therefore if Lord Hawkes-
bury hates the abstract troths of science
as much as he hates concrete tmth in
human affairs, now is his time for get-
ting rid of the multiplication table, and
passing a TOte of censure upon the
pretensions of the hfpolkeMMMe, Such
is the history of English parties at this
moment: jon cannot seriously suppose
that the people care for such men as
Lord Hawkesbuiy, Mr. Canning, and
Mr. Perceval, on their own account;
yon cannot really believe them to be
so degraded as to look to their safety
from a man who proposes to subdue
Europe by keeping it without Jesuits*
Bark. The people, at present, have one
passion, and but one~-

A Jove prindpium, Jovis omnia plena. •

They care no more for the ministers I
have mentioned, than they do for those
sturdy royalists who for 602. per annum
stand behind his Majesty's carriage,
arrayed in scariet and gold. If the
present ministers opposed the Court
instead of flattering it, they would not
command twenty votes.

I>o not imagine by these observa-
tions that I am not loyal: without
joining in the common cant of the best
of kings, I respect the Eling most sin-
cerely as a good man. His' reUgion
is better than the religion of Mr.
Perceval, his old morality very superior
to the old morality of Mr. Canning,
and I am quite certain he has a safer
understanding than both of them put
together. lovalty within the bounds
of reason and moderation, is one of the
greatest instruments of English happi-
ness ; but the love of the King may
easily become more strong than the
love of the kingdom, and we may lose
sight of the public welfare in our ex-
aggerated admiration of him who is
appointed to reign only for its promo-
tion and support. I detest Jacobin-
ism; and if I am doomed to be a slave
at all, I would rather be the slave of
a king than a cobbler. God save the
King, you say, warms your heart like
the sound of a trumpet. I cannot
make use of so violent a metaphor; but
1 am delighted to hear it» when it is the

cry of genuine affection; I am delighted
to hear it, when they hail not only the
individual man, but the outward and
living sign of all Eo^ish blessings.
These are noble feelings, and the heart
of every good man must go with them;
but Grod save the King, in these times,
too often means Grod save my pension
and my place, God give my sisters an
allowance out of the privy purse, —
make me clerk of the irons, let ine spr-
vey the meltings, let me live upon the
fruits of other men*s industry, and
fatten upon the plunder of the public

What is it possible to say to such a
man as the Gentleman of Hampstead,
who really believes it feasible to convert
the font million Lrish Catholics to the
Protestant religion, and considers this
as the best remedy for the disturbed
state of Ireland ? It is not possible to
answer such a man with arguments;
we must come out against him vrith
beads, and a cowl, and push him into
an hermitage. It is really such trash,
that it is an abuse of the privilege of
reasoning to reply to it. Such a pro-
ject is well WQrthy the statesman who
would bring the French to reason by
keeping them without rhubarb, and
exhibit to mankind the awful spectacle
of a nation deprived of neutral salts.
This is not the dream of a wild apo-
thecary indulging in his own opium;
this is not tlie distempered fancy of a
pounder of drugs, delirious from small-
ness of profits: but it is the sober, de-
liberate, and systematic scheme of a
man to whom the public safety is en-
trusted, and whose appointment is
considered by many as a masterpiece
of political sagacity. What a sublime
thought, that no purge can now be taken
between the Weser and the Garonne;
that the bustling pestle is still, the ca-
norous mortar mute, and the bowels
of mankind locked up for fourteen de-
grees of latitude! When, I should be
curious to know, were all the powers
of crudity and flatulence fully ex-
plained to his Majesty's ministers? At
what period was this great plan of con-
quest and constipation fully developed?
In whose mind was the idea of destroy-
ing the pride and the plasters of Prance
first engendered? Without castor oil

:Peteb plymley's letters.

they might, for some months, to be
sore, have carried on a lingering war ;
but can thej do without bark ? Will
the people live under a goTemment
where antimonial powders cannot be
procured ? Will they bear the loss of
mercury? "There's the rub." Depend
upon it, the absence of the materia me-
dica will 'soon bring them to their
senses, and the cry of Bourbon and
bolus burst forth from the Baltic to the
Mediterraoean.

You ask me for any precedent in
our history where the oath of supremacy
has been dispensed with. It was dis-
pensed with to the Catholics of Canada
in 1774. They are only required to
take a simple oath of allegiance. The
same, I believe, was the case in Cor-
sica. The reason of such exemption
was obvious ; jon could not possibly
have retained either of these coantries
without it. And what did it signify,
whether you retained them or not ? In
cases where you might have, been
foolish without peril, you were wise ;
when nonsense and bigotry threaten
you with destruction, it i» impossible
to bring you back to the alphabet of
justice and common sense. If men are
to be fools, I would rather they were
fools in little matters than in great ;
dnlness turned up with temerity, is a
livery all the worse for the facings ;
and tjie most tremendous of all things
is the magnanimity of a dunce.

It is not by any means necessary, as
you contend, to repeal the Test Act if
you give relief to the Catholic ; what
the Catholics ask for is to be put on a
footing with the Protestant Dissenters,
which would be done by repealing that
part of the law which compels them to
take the oath of supremacy and to
make the declaration against transub-
stantiation : they would then come into
parliament as all other Dissenters are
allowed to do, and the penal laws to
which they were exposed for taking
office would be suspended every year,
as they have been for this half century
past towards Protestant Dissenters.
Perhaps, after all, this is the best me-
thod,-~to continue the persecuting law,
and to suspend it every year, — a me-

VouH.

177

thod which, while it effectually destroys
the persecution itself, leaves to the
great mass of mankind the exquisite
gratification of supposing that they are
enjoying some advantage from which
a particular class of their fellow-crea-
tures are excluded. We manage the
Corporation and Test Acts at present
much in the same manner as if we
were to persuade parish boys who had
been in the habit of beating an ass to
spare the animal, and beat the skin of
an ass stuffed with straw; this would
preserve the semblance of tormenting
without the reality, and keep boy and
beast in good humour.

How can you imagine that a provi-
sion for the Catholic clergy affects the
5 th article of the Union ? Surely I
am preserving the Protestant Church
in Ireland, if I put it in a better con-
dition than that in which it now is. A
tithe proctor in Ireland collects his
tithes with a blunderbuss, and carries
his tenth hay-cock by storm, sword in
hand: to give him equal value in a
more pacific shape cannot, I should
imagine, be considered as injurious to
the Church of Ireland ; and what right
has that Church to complain, if parlia-
ment chooses to fix upon the empire
the burthen of supporting a double
ecclesiastical establishment ? Are the
revenues of the Irish Protestant clergy
in the slightest degree injured by such
provision ? On the contrary, is it
possible to confer a more serious bene-
fit upon that Church, than by quieting
and contenting those who are at work
for its destruction ?

It is impossible to think of the affairs
of Ireland without being forcibly struck
with the parallel of Hungary. Of her
seven millions of inhabitants, one half
were Protestants, Calvinists, and Lu-
therans, many of the Greek Church,
and many Jews ; such was the state of
theur religious dissensions, that Maho-
met had often been called in to the aid
of Calvin, and the crescent often glit-
tered on the walls of Buda and of
Presburg. At last, in 1791, duruig
the most violent crisis of distarbance,
a. diet was called, and by a great ma-
jority of voices a decree was passed.

178

PETER FLTMLET9 LETTEB&

wbifch ieemed to all the contendiDg
sects the follest u^ freest exercise of
idigums wonhip and edncatkm; or-
dained (let it be heard in Hampstead)
that churches and chapels shoold be
erected for all on the most perfectly
equal terms; that the Protettants of
both confessions shoold depend npon
their spiritoal saperiors alone; libera-
ted them from swearing by the nsoal
oath, ^'the holy Virgin Mary, the
saints, and chosen of God ; " and
then the decree adds, ** that pmbSc
offices and hfmourt, high cr hw, great
or tmaUj ehaU be given to natural-bom
HvngarioMs who deserve weR of their
country, and possess the oAer qnalifiea-
Uons, let their religion be what it may^
Such was the line of policy porsaed in
a diet consisting of fonr hundred mem-
bers, in a state whose form of gOTem-
ment approaches nearer to oar own
than any other, having a Boman Ca-
tholic establishment of great wealth
and power, and nnder the influence of
one of the most bigoted Catholic Courts
in Europe. This measure has now the
experience of eighteen years in its
fiivour; it has undergone a trial of
fourteen years of reTolution such as
the world never witnessed, and more
than equal to a century less convulsed:
What have been its effects? When
the French advanced like a torrent
within a few days' march of Vienna,
the Hungarians rose in a mass ; they
formed what they called t^e sacred
insurrection, to defend their sovereign,
their rights, and liberties, now common
to all ; and the apprehension of their
approach dictated to the reluctant
Bonaparte the immediate signature of
the treaty of Leoben, The Bomi^
hierarchy of Hungary exists in all
its former splendour and opulence;
never has the slightest attempt been
made to diminish it ; and those revo-
lutionary principles, to which so large
a portion of civilised Europe has been
sacrificed, have here failed in making
the smallest successful inroad.

The whole history of this proceeding
of the Hungahan Diet is so extraor-
dinary, and such an admirable com-
ment upon the Protestantism of Mr.
Spencer Perceval, that I must compel

yoa to read a few short extracts frvmi
the law itself :— "The Brotestants of
both confessions shall, in religions
matten^ dqwnd opon their own spirit-
nal saperiors alcme. The Protestants
may Iflcewise retain their trivial and
grammar schools. The Church dues
which the Pkotestants have hitherto
paid to the Catholic parish priests,
schoolmasters, or other such officers,
either in money, productions, or iaboar
shaU in future entirely cease, and
after Aree months from the pablishing
of this law, be no more anywhere de-
manded. In the building or repairing
of churches, parsonage-booses, and
schools, the Protestants are not obliged
to assist the Catholics with labour, nor
the Catholics the Protestants. The
I»ous foundations and donations of the
Protestants which already exist, or
which in fritore may be made for tfieir
churches, ministers, schools and stu-
dents, hospitaIs,orphan-houses and poor,
cannot be taken from them under any
pretext, nor yet the care of them ; bat
rather the unimpeded administraticm
shall be entrusted to those from among
them to whom it legally belongs, and
those foundations wMch may have been
taken from them under the last goTcm-
ment, shall be returned to them without
delay. All affaurs of marriage of the
Protestants are left to their own con-
sistories ; all landlords and masters of
families, under the penalty of public
persecution, are ordered not to prevent
their subjects and servants, whether
they be Catholic or Protestant, from.
the observance of the festivals 4ind
ceremonies of their religion," &c &c
&c — By what strange chances are
mankind influenced ! A little Catholic
barrister of Vienna might have raised
the cry of iVb Protestantism, and Hun-
gary would have panted for the arrival
of a French army as much as Ireland
does at this moment; arms would have
been searched fdr ; Lutheran and Cal-
vinist houses entered in the dead of the
night; and the strength of Austria
exhausted in guarding a country from
which, under the present liberal sys-
tem, she may expect, in a moment of
danger, the most poweriul aid: and
let it be remembered, that this memo*

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

179

rable example of political wisdom took
place at a period when many great
monarchies were yet unconqnered in
Europe ; in a country where the two
religious parties were equal in number;
and where it is impossible to suppose
indifference in 'the party which relin-
qoished its exclusive privileges. Under
all these circumstances, the measure
was carried in the Hungarian Diet by
a majority of 280 to 120. In a few
weelts, we shall see every concession
denied to the Catholics by a much
larger majority of Protestants, at a
moment when every other power is
snbJQgated but ourselves, and in a
conntiy where the oppressed are four
times as numerous as their oppressors.
So much for the wisdom of our ances-
tors— so much for the nineteenth cen-
tmy^so much for the superiority of
the English over all the nations of the
Continent

Ate you not sensible, let me ask
yon, of the absurdity of trusting the
lowest Catholics with offices corres-
pondent to their situation in life, and
of denying such privilege to the higher?
A Catholic may serve in the militia,
bat a Catholic cannot come into Parr
liament ; in the latter case you suspect
combination, and in the former case
you suspect no combination ; you de-
liberately arm ten or twenty thousand
of the lowest of the Catholic people; —
and the moment you come to a class of
men whose education, honour, and
talents, seem to render all mischief
less probable, then you see the danger
of employing a Catholic, and cling to
jour investigating tests and disabling
law& If you tell me you have enough
of members of Parliament, and not
enough of militia, without the Catho-
lics, I beg leave to remind you, that,
by employing the physical force of
any sect, at the same time when you
leave them in a state of utter dis-
affection, you are not adding strength
to your armies, but weakness and
ruin. — If you want the vigour of their
common people, you must not disgrace
their nobility, and insult their priest-
hood.

I thought that the terror of the Pope
had been confined to the limits of the

nursery, and merely employed as a
qieans to induce young master to enter
into his small-clothes with greater
speed, and to eat his breakfast with
greater attention to decorum. For
these purposes, the name of the Pope
is admirable; but why push it beyond?
Why not leave to Lord Hawkesbury
all further enumeration of the Pope's
powers ? For a whole century, you
have been exposed to the enmity of
France, and your succession was dis-
puted in two rebellions^; what could
the Pope do at the period when there
was a serious struggle, whether Eng-
land should be Protestant or Catholic,
and when the issue was completely
doubtful? Could the Pope induce the
Irish to rise in 1715? Could he induce
them to rise in 1745? You had no
Catholic enemy when half this island
was in arms ; and what did the Pope
attempt in the last rebellion in Ireland?
But if he had as much power over the
minds of the Irish as Mr. Wilberforce
has over the mind of a young Me-
thodist converted the preceding quar-
ter, is this a reason why we are to
disgust men, who may be acted upon
in such a manner by a foreign power ?
or is it not an additional reason why
we should raise up every barrier of
affection and kindness against the mis-
chief of foreign influence? But the
true answer is, the mischief does not
exist Gog and Magog have produced
as much influence upon human affairs
as the Pope has done for this half cen-
tury past ; and by spoiling him of his
possessions, and degrading him in the
eyes of all Europe, Bonaparte has not
taken quite the proper method of in-
creasing his influence.

But why not a Catholic king, as well
as a Catholic member of Parliament,
or of the Cabinet ? — Because it is pro-
bable that the one would be mischievous,
and the other not A Catholic king
might struggle against the Protestant-
ism of the country, and if the struggle
were not successful, it would at least
be dangerous ; but the efforts of any
other Catholic would be quite insigni-
ficant, and his hope of success so small,
that it is quite improbable the effort
would ever be made : my argument is,

N 2

180

PETEE PLYMLEyS LETTERS.

that in so Protestant a countxy as
Great Britain, the character of her
parliaments and her cabinet coald not
be changed bj the few Catholics who
would ever find their waj to the one
or the other. But the power of the
Crown is immeasurably greater than
the power which the CaSiolics could
obtain from any other species of
authority in the state ; and it does not
follow, becanse the lesser degree of
power is innocent, that the greater
should be so toa As for the stress
you lay upon the danger of a Catholic
chancellor, I have not the least hesitar
tion in saying, that his appointment
would not do a ten thousandth part of
the mischief to the English Church
that might be done by a Methodistical
chancellor of the true Clapham breed;
and I request to know, if it is really so
Tery necessary that a chancellor .should
be of the religion of the Church of
England, how many chancellors you
have had within thQ last century who
have been bred up in the Presbyterian
reli^on ? — And again, how many you
have had who notoriously have been
without any religion at all ?

Why are you to suppose that eligi-
bility and election are the same thing,
and that all the cabinet wili be Catho-
lics whenever all the cabinet may be
Catholics? You have a right, you say,
to suppose an extreme case, and to
argue upon it — so have I : and I will
suppose that the hundred Irish mem-
bers will one day come down in a
body, and pass a law compelling the
King to reside in Dublin. I will sup-
pose that the Scotch members, by a
similar stratagem, will lay England
under a large contribution of roeid and
sulphur : no measure is without objec«
tion, if yon sweep the whole horizon
for danger ; it is not sufficient to tell
me of what may happen, bat you must
show me a rational probability that it
will happen : after all, I might, con-
trary to my real opinion, admit all
your dangers to exist; it is enough for
me to contend, that all other dangers
taken together are not equal to the
danger of losing Ireland from disaffec-
tion sLnd invasion.

I am astonished to see yon, and

many good and well-meaning dergy-
men b^de you, painting the Catholics
in such detestable colours; two thirds,
at least, of Europe are Catholics,— they
are Christians, though mistaken Chris*
tians ; how can I possibly admit that
any sect of Christians, and above all,
that the oldest and the most nnmeroas
sect of Christians, are incapable of ful-
filling the common duties and relations
of life : though I do differ from them
in many particulars, God forbid I
should give such a handle to infidelity,
and subscribe to such blasphemy
against our common religion!

Do you think mankind never change
their opinions without formally ex-
pressing and confessing that change ?
When you quote the decisions of an-
cient Catholic councils, are you pre-
pared to defend all the decrees of
English couTOcations and universities
since the reign of Queen Elizabeth ? I
could soon make you sick of yoor nn-
candid industry against the Catholics,
and bring you to fdlow that it is better
to forget times past, and to judge and
be judged by present opinions and
present practice.

I must beg- to be excused from ex-
plaining and refuting all the mistakes
about the Catholics made by my Lord
Bedesdale ; and I must do that noble-
man the justice to say, that he has been
treated with great disrespect Could
anything be more indecent than to
make it a rooming lounge in Dublin
to call upon his Lordship, and to cram
him with Arabian-night stories about
the Catholics? Is this proper beha-
viour to the representatiye of Majesty,
the child of Themis, and the keeper of
the conscience in West Britain? Who-
ever reads the Letters of the Catholic
Bishops, in the Appendix to Sir John
Hippesly*s Tery sensible book, will see
to what an excess this practice must
have been carried with the pleasing
and Protestant nobleman whose name
I have mentioned, and from thence
I wish you to receive your answer
about excommunication, and all the
trash which is talked against the
Catholics.

A sort of notion has, by some means
or another, crept into the world, that

PETER PLYMLEY'S LETTERS.

181

difference of religion would render
men nnfit to perform together the
offices of common and civil life : that
Brother Wood and Brother Grose
could not trayel together the same
circnit if thej differed in creed, nor
Cockell and Mingay be engaged in
the same cause if Cockell was a Ca-
tholic and Mingay a Mnggletonian.
It is supposed that Huskisson and Sir
Harry Englefield would squabble be-
hind the Speaker's chair about the
Council of Lateran, and many a turn-
pike bill miscarry by the sarcastical
controversies of ^r. Hawkins Brown
and Sir John Throckmorton upon the
real presence. I wish I could see some
of these symptoms of earnestness upon
the subject of religion ; but it really
seems to me that, in the present state
of society, men no more think about
inquiring concerning each other's faith
than they do concerning the colour of
each other's skins. There may have
been times in England when the quar-
ter sessions would have been disturbed
by theological polemics : but now,
alter a Catholic justice had once been
seen on the bench and it had been
clearly ascertained that he spoke Enr-
glish, had no tail, only a single row of
teeth, and that he loved port wine, —
after all the scandalous and infamous
reports of his physical conformation
had, been clearly proved to be false, —
he would be reckoned a jolly fellow,
and very superior in flavour to a sly
Presbyterian. Nothing, in fact, can be
more uncandid and unphilosophic^l *
than to say that a man has a tail,
because you. cannot agree with him
upon religious subjects ; it appears
to be ludicrous : but I am convinced
it has done infinite mischief to the
Catholics, and made a very serious
impression upon the minds of many
gentlemen of large landed property.

In talking of the impossibility of
Catholic and Protestant living together
with equal privilege under the same
government, do you forget the Cantons
of Switzerland? You might have seen
there a Protestant congregation going
into a church which had just been

* Fid0 Lord Bacon, Locke, and Descartes.

quitted by a Catholic congregation ;
and I Mrill venture to say that the Swiss
Catholics were more bigoted to their
religion than any people in the whole
world. Did the kings of Prussia ever
refuse to employ a Catholic ? Would
Frederick the Great have rejected an
able man on this account? We have
seen Prince Czartorinski, a Catholic
secretary of state in Russia ; in former
times, a Greek patriarch and an apos-
tolic vicar acted together in the most
perfect harmony in Venice ; and we
have seen the Emperor of Germany in
modem times entrusting the care of
his person and the command of his
guard to a Protestant Prince, Ferdi-
nand of Wirtemberg. But what are
all these things to Mr. Perceval ? He
has looked at human nature from the
top of Hampstead Hill, and has not a
thought beyond the little sphere of his
own vision. ** The snail," say the
Hindoos, **sees nothing but his own
shell, and thinks it the grandest palace
in the universe."

I now take a final leave of this sub-
ject of Ireland ; the only difficulty in
discussing it is a want of resistance, a
want of something difficult to unravel,
and something dark to illumine. To
agitate such a question is to beat the
air with a club, and cut down gnats
with a scimitar ; it is a prostitution of
industry, and a waste of strength. If
a man say, I have a good place, and I
do not choose to lose it, this mode of
arguing upon the Catholic question I
can well understand ; but that any
human being with an understanding
two degrees elevated above that of an
Anabaptist preacher, should conscien-
tiously contend for the expediency and
propriety of leaving the Irish Catholics
in their present state, and of subjecting
us to such tremendous peril in the pre-
sent condition of the world, it is utterly
out of my power to conceive. Such a
measure as the Catholic question is
entirely beyond the common game of
politics ; it is a measure in which all
parties ought to acquiesce, in order to
preserve the place where and the stake
for which they play. If Ireland is
gone, where are jobs ? where are re-
versions,? where is my brother. Lord

N 3

182

PETER PLYMLETS LETTERS.

Arden ? where are, my dear and near
relations ? The game is up, and the
Speaker of the House of Commons will
be sent as a present to the menagerie
at Paris. We talk of waiting from
particular considerations, as if centuries
of joy and prosperity were before us :
in the next ten years our fate must be
decided; we shall know, long before
that period, wbather we can bear up
against the miseries by which we are
threatened, or not: and yet, in the very
midst of our crisis, we are enjoined to
abstain from the most certain means
of increasing our strength, and adrised
to wait for the remedy till the disease
is remored by death or health. And
now, instead of the plain and manly
policy of increasing unanimity at home,
by equalising rights and privileges,
what is the ignorant, arrogant, and
wicked system which has been pur-
sued ? Such a career of madness and
of folly was, I believe, never run in so
short a period. The vigour of the
ministry is like the vigour of a grave-
^^SS^^* — ^c tomb becomes more ready
and more wide for every effort which
they make. There is nothing which it
is worth while either to take or to re-
tain, and a constant train of ruinous
expeditions have been kept up. Every
Englishman felt proud of the integrity
of his country ; the character of the
country is lost for ever. It is of the
utmost consequence to a commercial
people at war with the greatest part of
Europe, that there should be a free
entry of neutrals into the enemy's ports;
the neutrals who carried our manu-
factures we* have not only excluded,
but we have compelled them to declare
war against us. It was our interest to
make a good peace, or convince our
own people that it could not be ob-
tained ; we have not made a peace,
and we have convinced the people of
nothing but of the arrogance of the
Poreign Secretary : and all this has
taken place in the short space of a
year, because a King's Bench barrister
and a writer of epigrams, turned into
Ministers of State, were determined to
show country gentlemen that the late
administration had no vigour. In the
meantime commerce stands still, manu-

factures perish, Ireland is more and
more irritated, India is threatened,
fresh taxes are accumulated upon the
wretched people, the war is carried oa
without it being possible to conceive
any one single object which a rational
being can propose to himself by its
continuation ; and in the midst of this
unparalleled insanity we are told that
the Continent is to be reconquered by
the want of rhubarb and plums.* A
better spirit than exists in the English
people never existed in any people in
the world ; it has been misdirected,
and squandered upon party purposes
in the most degrading and scandalous
manner ; they have l^en led to believe
that they were benefiting the conunerce
of England by destroying the com-
merce of America, that they were
defending their Sovereign by per-
petuating the bigoted oppression of
their fellow-subjects ; their rulers and
their guides have told them that they
would equal the vigour of France by
equalling her atrocity ; and they have
gone on wasting that opulence, patience,
and courage, which, if husbanded by
prudent and moderate counsels, might
have proved the salvation of mankind.
The same policy of turning the good
qualities of Englishmen to their own
destruction, which made Mr. Pitt om-
nipotent, continues his power to those
who resemble him only in his vices ;
advantage is taken of the loyalty of
Englishmen to make them meanly
submissive ; their piety is turned into
persecution, their courage into useless
and obstinate contention ; they are
plundered because they are ready to
pay, and soothed into asinine stupidity
because they are full of virtuous pa-
tience. If England must perish at
last, so let it be ; ■ that event is in the
hands of God ; we must dry up our
tears and submit But that England
should perish swindling and stealing ;
that it should perish waging war
against lazar houses, and hospitals ;
that it should perish persecuting with

* Even Allen Park (accustomed as he has
always been to be dehghted by all adminis-
trations) says it is too bad; and Hall and
Morris are said to have adniaUy UuiBhed in
one of the divisions.

PETER PLYMLEY^ LETTEBS.

183

monastic bigotry; that it should calmly
give itself up to be mined by the flashy
arrogance of one man, and the narrow
fanaticism of another ; these eyents
are within the power of human beings,

and I did not think that the magnani«
mity of Englishmen would ever stoop
to snch degradations.

LongnrnTilel

Peter Pltmlet.

«4

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES OONTBAEY TO THE LAW.

A SEEMON

PREACHED IN THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF ST. PETER, YORK

BBFOBB

THE HON. SIB JOHN BAYLEY, KNT.

AND

THE HON. SIB GEOBOE SOWLEY HOLBOYD, KNT.
justicbs of thb coubt of king's bbnch

Uajlcr 28, 1824.

Acts, xxni. 8.
SUtest thou here to judge me qffer the law,
and commandest thou me to he tmUten,
contrary to the law?

With these bold words St. Paul re-
pressed the unjust violence of that
ruler, who would have silenced his
arguments, and extinguished his zeal
for the Christian faith : knowing well
the misfortunes which awaited him,
prepared for deep and various calamity,
not ignorant of the violence of the
Jewish multitude, not unused to suffer,
not unwilling to die,, he had not pre-
pared himself for the monstrous spec-
tacle of perverted Justice ; but losing
that spirit to whose fire and firmness
we owe the very existence of the Chris-
tian faith, he burst into that bold rebuke
which brought back the extravagance
of power under the control of law, and
branded it with the feelings of shame :
" Sittest thou here to judge me after
the law, and commandest thou me to
be smitten, contrary to the law ? "

I would observe that in the Gospels,
and the various parts of the New

Testament, the words of our Saviour
and of St. Paul, when they contain
any opinion, are always to be looked
upon as lessons of wisdom to us, how-
ever incidentally they may have been
delivered, and however shortly they
may have been expressed. As their
words were to be recorded by inspired
writers, and to go down to future ages,
nothing can have been said without
reflection and design. Nothing is to
be lost, everything is to be studied : a
great moral lesson is often conveyed in
a few words. Bead slowly, think
deeply, let every word enter into your
soul, for it was intended for your soul.
I take these words of St. Paul as a
condemnation of that man who smites
contrary to the law ; as a praise of that
man who judges according to the law;
as a religious theme upon the import-
ance of human Justice to the happiness
of mankind : and if it be that theme,
it is appropriate to this place, and to
the solemn public duties of the past
and the ensuing week, over which some
here present will preside, at which

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES CONTRARY TO THE LAW 185

many here present will assist, and
which almost all here present will
witness.

I will discnss, then, the importance
of jadging according to the law, or, in
other words, of the due administration
of Justice upon the character and hap-
piness of nations. And in so doing, I
^yill hegin with stating a few of those
circumstances which may mislead even
good and conscientious men, and sub-
ject them to the unchristian sin of
smiting contrary to the law. I will
state how that Justice is purified and
perfected, by which the happiness and
character of nations iis affected to a
good purpose.

I do this with less fear of being
misunderstood, because I am speaking
before two great magistrates, who have
lived much among its ; and whom —
because they have lived much among
us — we have all learned to respect and
regard, and to whom no man fears to
consider himself as accountable, be*
cause all men see that they, in the
administration of their high office, con-
sider themselves as deeply and daily
accountable to God.

And let no man say, '*Why teach
such things ? Do you think they must
not have occurred to those to whom
they are a concern ?" 1 answer to this
that no man preaches novelties and
discoveries ; the object of preaching is,
constantly to remind mankind of what
mankind are constantly forgetting ;
not to supply the defects of human
intelligence, but to fortify the feebleness
of human resolutions, to recall man-
kind from the by-paths where they
turn, into that broad path of salvation
which all know, but few tread. These
plain lessons the humblest ministers of
the Gospel may teach, if they are
honest, and the most powerful Chris-
tians will ponder, if they are wise. No
man, whether he bear the sword of the
law, or whether he bear that sceptre
which the sword of the law cannot
reach, can answer for his own heart to-
morrow, and can say to the teacher,— r
** Thou wamest me, thou teachest me,
in vain."

A Christian Judge, in a free land,
should, with the most scrupulous exact-

ness, guard himself from the influence
of those party feelings, upon which,
perhaps, the preservation of political
liberty depends, but by which the better
reason of individuals is often blinded
and the tranquillity of the public dis-
turbed. I am not talking of the osten-
tatious display of such feelings ; I am
hardly talking of any gratification of
which the individual himself is con-
scious, but I am raising up a wise and
useful jeidousy of the encroachment
of those feelings, which, when they do
encroach, lessen the value of the most
valuable, and lower the importance of
the most important, men in the country.
I admit it to be extremely difficult to
live amidst the agitations, contests, and
discussions of a free people, and to
remain in that state of cool, passionless
Christian candour, which society expect
from their great magistrates ; but it is
the pledge that magistrate has given,
it is the life he has taken up, it is the
class of qualities which he has promised
us, and for which he has rendered him-
self responsible : it is the same fault
in him which want of courage would
be in some men, and want of moral
regularity in others. It runs counter
to those very purposes, and sins against
those utilities for which the very office
was created : without these qualities,
he who ought to be cool, is heated ; he
who ought to be neutral, is partial: the
ermine of Justice is spotted ; the ba-
lance of Justice is unpoised; the fillet
of Justice is torn off : and he who sits
to judge after the law, smites contrary
to the law.

And if the preservation of calmness
amidst the strong feelings by which a
Judge is surrounded be difficult, is it
not also honourable ? and would it be
honourable if it were not difficult ?
Why do men quit their homes, and give
up their common occupations, and re-
pair to the tribunal of Justice ? Why
this bustle and business, why this de-
coration and display, and why are we
all eager to pay our homage to the dis-
pensers of Justice? Because we all
feel that there must be, somewhere or
other, a check to human passions ; be-
cause we all know the immense value
and importance of men, in whose placid

186

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES

equitj and mediating wisdom, we can
trust in the worst dT times ; because
we cannot cherish too stronglj* and
express too plain!/, that reverence we
feel for men, who can rise np in the
ship of the state, and rebnke the storms
of the mind, and bid its angry passions
be stilL

A Christian Jodge in a free land,
shonld not onlj keep his mind dear
from the violence of party feelings, but
he shonld be very carefnl to preserve
his independence, by seeking no pro-
motion, and asking no favours from
those who govern : or at least, to be
(which is an experiment not without
danger to his salvation) so thoroughly
confident of his motives and his con-
duct, that he is certain the hope of
favour to come, or gratitude for favour
past, will never cause him to swerve
from the strict line of duty. It is often
the lot of a Judge to be placed, not
only between the accuser and the ac-
cused, not only between the complain-
ant and him against whom it is com-
plained, but between the governors and
the governed, between the people and
those whose lawful commands the people
are bound to obey. In these sort of con-
tests it unfortunately happens that the
rulers are sometimes as angry as the
ruled ; the whole ejes of a nation are fixed
upon one man, and upon his character
and conduct the stability and happiness
of the times seem to depend. The best
and firmest magistrates cannot tell how
they may act under such circumstances,
but every man may prepare himself
for acting well under such circum-
stances, by cherishing that qniet feeling
of independence, which removes one
temptation to act ilL Ever/ man may
avoid putting himself in a situation
where his hopes of advantage are on
one side, ahd his sense of duty on the
other : such a temptation may be with-
stood, but it is better it should not be
encountered. Far better that feeling
which says, *^1 have vowed a vow before.
God ; I have put on the robe of justice ;
farewell avarice, farewell ambition :
pass me who will, slight me who will,
I live henceforward only for the great
duties of life : my business is on earth,
my hope and my reward are in God."

He who takes tiie oflSce of a Judge
as it now exists in this country, takes
in his hands a splendid gem, good and
glorious, perfect and pure. ShaU he
give it np mutilated, shall he mar it,
shall he darken it, shall it emit no light,
shall it be valued at no price, shall it
excite no wonder ? Shall he find it a
diamond, shall he leave it a stone ?
What shall we say to the man who
would wilfully destroy with fire the
magnificent temple of God, in which I
am now preaching ? Far worse is he
who ruins the moral edifices of the
world, which time and toil, and many
prayers to God, and many sufierings
of men, have reared ; who puts out
the light of the times in which he lives,
and leaves us to wander amid the dark-
ness of corruption and the desolation
of sin. There may be, there probably
is, in this church, some young man
who may hereafter fill the office of an
English Judge, whm the greater part
of those who hear me are dead, and
mingled with the dust of the grave;
Let him remember my words, and let
them form and fashion his spirit : he
cannot tell in what dangerous and awfal
times he may be pliused ; but as a
mariner looks to his compass in the
calm, and looks to his compass in the
storm, and never keeps his eyes off his
compass, so in every vicissitude of a
judicial life, deciding for the people,
deciding against the people, protecting
the just rights of kings, or restraining
their unlawful ambition, let him ever
cling to that pure, exalted, and Chris-
tian independence, which towers over
the little motives of life ; which no hope
of favour can influence, which no effivt
of power cian control.

A Christian Judge in a free country
should respect, on every occasion, those
popular institutions of Justice, which
were intended for his control, and for
our security ; to see humble men col-
lected accidentally firom the neighboor-
hood, treated with tenderness and
courtesy by supreme magistrates oi
deep learning and practised under-
standing, from whose views they are
perhaps at that moment differing, and
whose directions they do not choose to
follow s to see at Bucb. times every dis-

CONTRARY TO THE LAW.

187

position to warmth restrained, and
es&rj tendency to contenaptaous feeling
kept back ; to witness the submission
of the great and wise, not when it is
extorted hj necessity, bat when it is
practised with willingness and grace,
is a spectacle which is rery grateful to
EngHishmen, which no other country
sees, which, above all things, shows
that a Judge has a pure, gentle, and
Christian heart, and that he never
wishes to smite contrary to the law.

May I add the great importance in a
Judge of courtesy to all men, and that
he should, on all occasions, abstain from
nnnecessarjr bitterness and asperity of
speech ? A Judge always speaks with
impunity, and always speaks ^with
effect. His words should be weighed,
hecanse they entail no evil upon him-
self, and much evil upon others. The
langnage of passion, the language of
sarcasm, the language of satire, is not,
on snch occasions, Christian language:
it is not the language of a Judge.
There is a propriety of rebuke and
condemnation, the justice of which is
felt even by him who suffers under it ;
but when magistrates, under the mask
of Uw, aim at the offender more than
the offence, and are more studious of
inflicting pain, than repressing error or
crime, the office suffers as much as the
Judge : the respect for Justice is les-
sened ; and the school of pure reason
becomes the hated theatre of mis-
chievous passion.

A Christian Judge who means to be
just, must not fear to smite according
to the law ; he must remember that he
beareth not the sword in vain. Under
his protection we live, under his pro-
tection we acquire, under his protection
we enjoy. Without him, no man would
defend his character, no man would
preserve his substance : proper pride,
just gains, valuable exertions, all de-
pend upon his firm wisdom. If he
shrink from the severe duties of his
office, he saps the foundation of social
life, betrays the highest interests of the
world, and sits not to judge according
to the law.

The topics of mercy are the small-
ness of the offence — the infrequency
of the offence. The temptations to the

culprit, the moral weakness of the
culprit, the severity of the law, the
error of the law, the different state of
society, the altered state of feeling, and
above all, the distressing doubt whether
a human being in the lowest abyss of
poverty and ignorance, has not done
injustice to himself, and is not perish-
ing away from the want of knowledge,
the want of fortune, and the want of
friends. All magistrates feel these
things in the early exercise of their
judicial power, but the Christian Judge
always feels them, is always youthful,
always tender when he is going to shed
human blood : retires from the business
of men, communes with his own heart,
ponders on the work of death, and
prays to that Saviour who redeemed
him, that he may not shed the blood of
man in vain.

These, then, are those faults which
expose a man to the danger of smiting
contrary to the law : a Judge must be
dear from the spirit of party, inde-
pendent of all favour, well inclined to
the popular institutions of his country;
firm in applying the rule, merciful in
making the exception ; patient, guard-
ed in his speech, gentle, and courteous
to all. Add' his learning, his labour,
his experience, his probity, his practised
and acute faculties, and this man is the
light of the world, who adorns human
life, and gives security to that life which
he adorns.

Now see the consequence of that
state of Justice which this character
implies, and the explanation of all that
deserved honour we confer on the pre-
servation of such a character, and all
the wise jealousy we feel at the slight-
est injury or deterioration it may ex-
perience.

The most obvious and important
use of this perfect Justice is, that it
makes nations safe : under common
circumstances, the institutions of Jus-
tice seem to have little or no bearing
upon the safety and security of a
country, but in periods of real danger,
when a nation surrounded by foreign
enemies contends not for the boundaries
of empire, but for the very being and
existence of empire ; then it is that
the advantages of just institutions are

188

THE JUDGE THAT SMITES

uiscovered. Every man feels that he
has a coantrj, that he has something
worth preserving, and worth contend-
ing for. Instances are remembered
where the weak prevailed over the
strong : one man recalls to mind when
a just and upright judge protected
him from unlawful violence, gave him
back his vineyard, rebuked his oppres-
sor, restored him to his rights, publish-
ed, condemned and rectified the wrong.
This is what is called country. Equal
rights to unequal possessions, equal
justice to the rich and poor : this is
what men come out to nght for, and to
defend. Such a country has no legal
injuries to remember, no legal murders
to revenge, no legal robbery to redress:
it is strong in its justice : it is then
that the use and object of all this
assemblage of gentlemen and arrange-
ment of Juries, and the deserved
veneration in which we hold the
character of English Judges, is under-
stood in all its bearings, and in its
fullest effects : men die for such things
— they cannot be subdued by foreign
force where such just practices prevail.
The sword of ambition is shivered to
pieces against such a bulwark. Nations
fall where Judges are unjust, because
there is nothing which the multitude
think worth defending ; but nations do
not fall which are treated as we are
treated, but they rise as we have risen,
and they shine as we have shone, and
die as we have died, too much used to
Justice, and too much used to freedom,
to care for that life which is not just
and free. I call you all to witness if
there be any exaggerated picture in
this : the sword is just sheathed, the
flag is just furled, the last sound of the
trumpet has just died away. You all
remember what a spectacle this country
exhibited : one heart, one voice — one
weapon, one purpose. And why ?
Because this country is a country of
the law ; because the Judge is a judge
for the peasant as well as for the
palace ; because every man's happiness
is guarded by fixed rules from tyranny
and caprice. This town, this week,
the business of the few next days,
would explain to any enlightened
European why other nations didiail in

the storms of the world, and why we
did not falL The Christian patience
you may witness, the impartiality of
the judgment-seat, the disrespect of
persons, the disregard of consequences.
These attributes of Justice do not
end with arranging your conflicting
rights, and mine ; they give strength
to the English people ; duration to the
English name ; they turn the animal
courage of this people into moral and
religious courage, and present to the
lowest of manlund plain reasons, and
strong motives why they should resist
aggression from without, and bind
themselves a living rampart round the
land of their birtlu

There is another reason why every
wise man is so scrupulously jealous of
the character of English Justice. It
puts an end to civil dissension. What
other countries obtain by bloody wars,
is here obtained by the decisions of
our own tribunals ; unchristian pas^
sions are laid to rest by these tribunals ;
brothers are brothers again ; the Gospel
resumes its empire, and because all con-
fide in the presiding magistrate, and be*
cause a few plain men are allowed to
decide upon their own conscientious
impression of facts, civil discord, yean
of convulsion, endless crimes, are
spared ; the storm is laid, and those
who came in clamouring for revenge,
go back together in peace from the hall
of judgment to the loom and the
plough, to the senate and the church.

The whole tone and tenour of public
morals is affected by the state of sa-
preme Justice; it extinguishes revenge,
it communicates a spirit of purity and
uprightness to inferior magistrates ; it
makes the great good, by taking away
impunity ; it banishes fraud, obliqaity,
and solicitation, and teaches men that
the law is their right Truth is its
handmaid, freedom is its child, pea^e
is its companion ; safety walks in its
steps, victory follows in its train : it ^
the brightest emanation of the Gospel?
it is the greatest attribute of God ; it is
that centre round which human motives
and passions turn : and Justice, sitting
on high, sees Genius and Power, snd
Wealth and Birth, revolving round her
throne ; and teaches their paths flQ^

CONTRARY TO THE LAW.

189

marks out their orbits, and warns with
ft lond voice, and rules with a strong
arm, and carries order and discipline
into a world, which bat for her would
only be a wild waste of passions.
Look what we are, and what jast laws
haye done for ns : — a land of piety
and charity ; — a land of churches, and
hospitals, and altars; — a nation of
good Samaritans ; — a people of uni-
versal compassion. AH lands, all seas,
have heard we are brave. We have
jast sheathed that sword which de-
fended the world; we have just laid
down that buckler which covered the
nations of the earth. God blesses the
soil with fertility ; Edglish looms la-
bour for every climate. All the waters
of the globe are covered with English
ships. We are softened by fine arts,
civilised by human literature, instructed
by deep science ; and every people, as
they break their feudal chains, look to
the founders and ■ fathers of freedom
for examples which may animate, and
roles which may guide. If ever a na-

tion was happy, if ever a nation was
visibly blessed by God — if ever a na-
tion was honoured abroad, and left at
home under a government (which we
can now conscientiously call a liberal
government) to the full career of
talent, industry, and vigour, we are at
this moment that people — and this is
our happy lot. — First the Gospel has
done it, and then Justice has done it ;
and he who thinks it his duty to labour
that this happy condition of existence
may remain, must guard the piety of
these times, and he must watch over
the spirit of Justice which exists in
these times. First, he must take care
that the altars of G^od are not polluted,
that the Christian faith is retained in
purity and in perfection : and then
turning to human affairs, let him strive
for spotless, incorruptible Justice ; —
praising, honouring, and loving the
just Judge, and abhorring, as the
worst enemy of mankind, him who is
placed there to "judge after the law,
land who smites contrary to the law.**

THE LAWY^B THAT TEMPTED GHBIST.

A SERMON

PBEACHED IN THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OP ST. PETER, YORK

BSrORB

THE HON. SIB JOHN BAYLEY, .KNT.

ONB or HIS MAJBSTY'S JUSTICB8 OW THB COURT OF KIKO't BBNCH

AND

THE HON. SIB JOHN HULLOCK, KNT.

ONB or HIS MAJBSTY'S BARONS OF THB COURT OP BXCHBQUBB

AnausT 1, 1824.

LUCB, X. 25.
And, behold, a certain lawyer stood «tp,
and tempted Him, sayinff, ** Master, tohat
shdUIdotoinheritetemallifef*'

This lawyer, who is thus represented
to have tempted our blessed Saviour,
does not seem to have been very
• mnch in earnest in the question which
he asked: his object does not appear
to have been the acquisition of re^
ligious knowledge, but the display of
human talent He did not say to him-
self, I will now draw near to this august
Being; I will inform myself from the
fountain of truth, and from the very
lips of Christ, I will learn a lesson of
salvation; but it occurred to him, that
in such a gathering together of the
Jews, in such a moment of public
agitation, the opportunity of diisplay
was not to be neglected ; full of that
internal confidence which men of
talents so ready, and so exercised, are
sometimes apt to feel, he approaches
our Saviour with all the apparent
modesty of interrogation, and salut-
ing him with the appellation of Master,

prepares, with all professional acnte-
ness, for his humiliation and defeat.

Talking humanly, and we must talk
humanly, for our Saviour was then
acting a human part, the ex^riment
ended, as all must wish an experiment
to end, where levity and bad faith are
on one side, and piety, simplicity, and
goodness on the other: the objector
was silenced, and one of the brightest
lessons of the Grospel elicited, for the
eternal improvement of mankind.

Still, though we wish the motive for
the question had been .better, we must
not forget the question, and we must
not forget who asked the question, and
we must not forget who answered it,
and what that answer was. The ques-
tion was the wisest and best that ever
came from the month of man; the
man who asked it was the very person
who ought to have asked it ; a man
overwhelmed, probably, with the in-
trigues, the bustle, and business of
life, and thfrefore, most likely to for-
get the interests of another world: the
answerer was our blessed Saviour,

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHBIST.

191

through whose mediation, yov, and I,
and B& of us, hope to live again $ and
the answer, remember, was plain and
practical; not flowery, not metaphy-
sic^ not doctrinal ; bnt it said to the
man of the law. If yon wish to lire
eternally, do yonr duty to God and
man ; live in this world as yoa ooght
to live ; make yourself fit for eternity;
and then, and then only, God will
grant to yon eternal life.

There are, probably, in this church,
many persons of the profession of the
law, who haye often asked before, with
better fiuth than their brother, and who
do now ask this great question, ** What
shall I do to inherit eternal life ?" I
diall, therefore, direct to them some
observations on the particular duties
they owe to society, because I think it
suitable to this particular season, be-
cause it is of much more importance
to tell men how they are to be Chris-
tians in detail, than to exhort them to
be Christians generally; because it is
of the highest utility to avail ourselves
of these occasions, to ^ow to classes
of mankind what those virtues are,
which they have more frequent and
Talnable opportunities of practising,
and what those faults and yices are, to
which they are more particularly ex-
posed.

It falls to the lot of those who are
engaged in the active and arduous
profession of the law to pass their
lives in great cities, amidst severe and
incessant occnpation, requiring all the
faculties, and calling forth, from time
to tune, many of the strongest passions
of our nature. In the midst of all
this, rivals are to be watched, supe-
riors are to be cultivated, connections
cherished ; some portion of life must be
given to society, and some little U) re-
laxation and amusement. When, then,
18 the question to be asked, '* What
shall I do to inherit eternal life?"
what leisure for the altar, what time
for God ? I appeal to the experience
of men engaged in this profession,
whether religious feelings and religious
practices are not, without any specula-
tive disbelief, perpetually sacrificed to
the business of the world ? Are not
the habits of derotion gradually dis-

placed by other habits of solicitude,
hurry, and care, totally incompatible
with habits of devotion ? Is not the
taste for devotion lessened? IM not
the time for devotion abridged ? Are
you not more and more conquered
against your warnings and against
your will ; not, perhaps, without pain
and compunction, by the Mammon of
life ? And what is the cure for this
great evil to which your profession
exposes you? The cure is, to keep
a sacred place in yonr heart, where
Almighty God is enshrined, and where
nothing human can enter ; to say to
the world, "Thus far shalt thou' go,
and no further ;" to remember you are
a lawyer, without forgetting you are a
Christian ; to wish for no more wealth
than ought to be possessed by an in-
heritor of the kingdom of heaven ; to
covet no more honour than is suitable
to a child of God ; boldly and bravely
to set yourself limits, and to show to
others you have limits, and that no
professional eagerness, and no profes-
sional activity, shall ever induce you
to infringe upon the rules and prac-
tices of religion: remember the text;
put the g^eat question really, which
the tempter of Christ only pietended
to put. In the midst of your highest
success, in the most perfect gratifica-
tion of your vanity, in the most ample
increase of your wealth, fall down at
the feet of Jesus, and say, *' Master,
what shall I do to inherit eternal life ? "
The genuine and unaffected piety
of a lawyer is, in one respect, of great
advantage to the general interests of
religion ; inasmuch as to the highest
member of that profession a great share
of the Church patronage is entrusted,
and to him we are accustomed to look
up in the senate for the defence of our
venerable Establishment ; and great
and momentous would be the loss to
this nation, if any one, called to so
high and honourable an office, were
found deficient in this ancient, pious,
and useful zeal for the Established
Church. In talking to men of your
active lives and habits, it is not pos«
sible to anticipate the splendid and
exalted stations for which any one of
yoa may be destined. Fifty years

192

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

ago, the person at the head of hu
profession, the greatest lawjer now in
England, perhaps in the world, stood
in this church, on snch occasions as
the present, as ohscnre, as nnknovm,
and as much doubting of his future
prospects as the humblest individual
of &e profession here present If
providence reserve such honours for
any one who may now chance to hear
me, let him remember that there is re-
quired at his hands a zeal for the Es-
tablished Church, but a zeal tempered
by discretion, compatible with Chris-
tian charity, and tolerant of Christian
freedom. All human establishments
are liable to err, and are capable of
improvement: to act as if yon denied
this, to perpetuate any infringement
upon the freedom of other sects, how-
ever vexatious that infringement, and
however safe its removal, is not to
defend an establishment, but to expose
it to unmerited obloquy and reproach.
Never think it necessary to be weak
and childish in the highest concerns of
life: the career of the law opens to you
many great and glorious opportunities
of promoting the Gospel of Christ,
and of doing good to your fellow-
creatures: there is no situation of that
profession in which you can be more
great and more gloriods than when
in the fulness of years, and the ful-
ness of honours, you are found de-
fending that Church which first taught
you to distinguish between good and
evil, and breathed into you the ele-
ments of religious life: but when you
defend that Church, defend it with
enlarged wisdom and with the spirit
of magnanimity ; praise its great ex-
cellences, do not perpetuate its little
defects, be its liberal defender, be its
wise patron, be its real friend. If you
can be great' and bold in human affairs,
do not think it necessary to be narrow
and timid in spiritual concerns : bind
yourself up with the real and import-
ant interests of the Church, and hold
yourself accountable to God for its
safety; but yield up trifles to the altered
state of the world. Fear no diange
which lessens the enemies of that Es-
tablishment, fear no change which in-
creases the activity of that Establish-

ment, fear no change which draws
down upon it the more abundant
prayers and blessings of the homaxi,
race.

Justice is found, experimentally, to
be most effectually promoted by the
opposite efforts of practised and in-
genious men presenting to the selectioa
of an impartial judge the best argu-
ments for the establishment and expla-.
nation of truth. It becomes, then,
under such an arrangement, the de-
cided duty of an advocate to use all
the arguments in his power to defend
the cause he has adopted, and to leave
the effects of those arguments to the
judgment of others. However useful
this practice may be for the promotion
of public justice, it is not without dan-
ger to the individual whose practice
it becomes. It is apt to produce a pro-
fligate indifference to truth in higher
occasions of life, where truth cannot
for a moment be trifled with, much
less callously trampled on, much less
suddenly and totally yielded up to the
basest of human motives. It is aston-
ishing what unworthy and inadequate
notions men are apt to form of the
Christian faith. Christianity does not
insist upon duties to an individual, and
forget the duties which are owing to
the great mass of individuals, which
we call our country ; it does not teach
you how to benefit your neighbour,
and leave you to inflict the most serious
injuries upon all whose interest is
bound up with you in the same land.
I need not say to this congregation
that there is a wrong and a right in
public affairs, as there is a wrong and
a right in private affairs. I need not
prove that in any vote, in any line of
conduct which affects the public in-
terest, every Christian is bound most
solemnly and most religiously, to follow
the dictates of his conscience. liet it
be for, let it be against, let it please,
let it displease, no matter with whom
it sides, or what it thwarts, it is a
solemn duty, on such occasions, to act
from the pure dictates of conscience,
and to be as faithful to the interests of
the great mass of your fellow-creatures,
as you would be to the interests of any
individual of that mass. Why, then.

i

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

193

if there be any truth in these observa-
tions, can that man be pure and inno-
cent before God, can he be quite harm-
less and respectable before men, who,
in mature age, at a moment's notice,
sacrifices to wealth and power all the
fixed and firm opinions of his life;
who puts his moral principles to sale,
and barters his dignitj and his soul
for the baubles of the world? If these
temptations come across you, then re-
member the memorable words of the
text, ** What shall I do to inherit eter-
nal life ?" not this — don't do this : it
is no title to eternity to suffer deserved
shame among men : endure anything
rather than the loss of character; cling
to character as your best possession ;
do not envy men who pass you in life,
only because they are under less moral
and religious restraint than yourself.
Your object is not fame, but honour-
able fame : your object is not wealth,
bot wealth worthily obtained: your
object is not power, but power gained
fairly, and exercised virtuously. Long-
saffering is a great and important
lesson in human life; in no part of
human life is it more necessary than in
yovLT arduous profession. The greatest
men it has produced have been at some
period of their professional lives ready
to famt at the long, and apparently
fruitless journey; and if you look at
those lives, you will find they have
been supported by a confidence (under
God) in the general effects of character
and industry. They have withstood
the allurement of pleasure which is the
first and most common c^nseof failure;
they have disdained the little arts and
meannesses which carry base men a
certain way, and no further ; they have
sternly rejectea also the sudden means
of growing basely rich, and dishonour-
ably great, with which every man is at
one time or another sure to be assailed ;
and then they have broken out into
light and glory at the last, exhibiting
to mankind the splendid spectacle of
great talents long exercised by difficul-
ties, and high principles never tainted
with guilt.

After all, remember that your pro-
fession is a lottery in which you may
aa well aa win; and you most

VoL.IL

take it as a lottery, in which, afler
every effort of your own, it is impos-
sible to command success: for this you
are not accountable ; but you are
accountable for your purity ; you are
accountable for the preservation of
your character. It is not in every
man's power to say, I will be a great
and successful lawyer ; but it is in
every man's power to say, that he will
(with God*s assistance) be a good
Christian and an honest man. What-
ever is moral and religious is in your
own power. If fortune deserts you,
do not desert yourself ; do nqt under-
value inward consolation ; connect
God with your labour ; remember you
are Christ's servant ; be seeking always
for the inheritance of immortal life.

I must urge you by another motive,
and bind you by another obligation,
against the sacrifice of public princi-
ple. A proud man when he has ob-
tained the reward, and accepted the
wages of baseness, enters into a severe
account with himself, and feels clearly
that he has suffered degradation : he
may hide it by increased zeal and vio-
lence, or varnish it over by simulated
gaiety ; he may silence the world, but
he cannot always silence himiself. If
this is only a beginning, and you mean,
henceforward, to trample all principle
under foot, that is another thing ; but
a man of fine parts and nice feelings is'
trying a very dangerous experiment
with his happiness, who means to pre-
serve his general character, and indulge
in one act of baseness. Such a man
is not made to endure scorn and self-
reproach : it is far from being certain
that he will be satisfied with that un-
scriptural bargain in which he hai
gained the honours of the world, and
lost the purity of his soul.

It is impossible in the profession of
the law but that many opportunities
must occur for the exertions of charity
and benevolence : I do not mean the
charity of money, but the charity ot
time, labour, and attention ; the pro-
tection of those whose resources are
feeble, and the information of those
whose knowledge is small. In the
hands of bad men, the law is sometimes
an artifice to mislead, and sometimes

194

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

an engine to oppress. In jonr hand%
it may be, from time to time, a buckler
to shield, and a sanctnaiy to save: yon
may lift up oppressed bamility, listen
patiently to the injuries of the wretched,
vindicate their just claims, maintain
their fair rights, and show, that in the
hurry of business, and the struggles of
ambition, yon have not foi^otten the
duties of a Christian — and the feelings
of a man. It is in your power, above
all other Christians, to combine the
wisdom of the serpent with the inno-
cence of the dove, and to fulfil with
greater energy and greater acuteness,
and more perfect effect, than other mep
can pretend to, the love, the lessons,
and the law of Christ.

I should caution the younger part of
this profession (who are commonly
selected for it on account of their
superior talents,) to cultivate a little
more diffidence of their own powers,
and a little less contempt for received
opinions, than is commonly exbibited
at the beginning of their career : mis-
trust of this nature teaches moderation
in the formation of opinions, and pre-
vents the painful necessity of incon-
sistency and recantation in future life.
It is not possible that the ablest young
men at the beginning of their intel-
lectual existence can anticipate all
those reasons, and dive into all those
motives, which induce mankind to act
as they do act, and make the world
such as we find it to be ; and though
there is doubtless much to alter, and
much to improve in human afiairs, yet
you will find mankind not quite so
wrong as, in the first ardour of youth,
you supposed them to be ; and yon
will find, as you advance in life, many
new lights to open upon you, which
nothing hut advancing in life could
ever enable you to observe. I say this,
not to check originality and vigour of
mind, which are the best chattels and
possessions of the world ; but to check
that eagerness which arrives at con-
clusions without sufficient premises; to
prevent that violence which is not un-
commonly atoned for in after life, by
the sacrifice of all principle and all
opinions ; to lessen that contempt
which prevents a young man from

improving his own understanding, bv
making a proper and prudent use of
the understandings of his fellow-crea-
tures.

There is another unchristian fault
which must be guarded against in the
profession of the law, and that is,
misanthropy ^— an exaorgefated opinion
of the faults and follies of mankind.
It is naturally the worst part of man-
kind who are seen in courts of justice,
and With whom the professors of the
law are most conversant. The per-
petual recurrence of crime and guilt
insensibly connects itself with the re-
collections of the human race : man-
kind are always painted in the atti-
tude of snfiering and inflicting. It
seems as if men were bound together
by the relations of fraud and crime;
but laws are not made for the quiet,
the good, and the just : you see and
know little of them in your profession,
and, therefore, you forget them : you
see the oppressor, and you let loose
your eloquence against him ; but you
do not see the man of silent charity,
who is always seeking out objects of
compassion : the faithful guardian
does not come into a court of justice,
nor the good wife, nor the just servant,
nor the dutiful son ; you punish the
robbers who ill-treated the wayfaring
man, but yon know nothing of the
good Samaritan who bound up bis
wounds. The lawyer who tempted
his Master had heard, perhaps, of the
sins of the woman at the feast, without
knowing that she had poured her store
of precious ointment on the feet of
Jesus.

Upon those who are engaged in
studying the laws of their country
devolves the honourable and Christian
task of defending the accused; a
sacred duty never to be yielded up,
never to be influenced by any vehe-
mence, nor intensity of public opinion.
In these times of profound peace and
unexampled prosperity, there is little
danger in executing this duty, and
little temptation to violate it: but
human affairs change like the clouds
of heaven ; another year may find us,
or may leave us, in all the perils and
bitterness of internal dissension; and

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

195

upon one of you may de rolve the defence
of some accased person, the object of
men's hopes and fears, the single point
on which the eyes of a whole people
are bent. These are the occasions
which try a man's inward heart, and
separate the dross of haman nature
from the gold of human nature. On
these occasions, never mind being
mixed up for a moment with the
criminal, and the crime; fling your-
self back upon great principles, fling
yourself back upon God; yield not
one atom to* yiolence ; suflfer not the
slightest encroachments of injustice ;
retire not one step before the frowns of
power; tremble not, for a single in-
stant, at the dread of misrepresenta-
tion. The great interests of mankind
are placed in your hands ; it is not so
mnch the individcial you are defend-
ing; it is not so much a matter of
consequence whether this, or that, is
proved to be a crime; but on such
occasion, yon are often called upon to
defend the occupation of a defender,
to take care that the sacred rights
belonging to that character are not
destroyed ; that that best privilege of
your profession, which so much
secures our regard, and so much re-
dounds to your credit, is never
soothed by flattery, never corrupted by
favour, never chilled by fear. You
may practise this wickedness secretly,
as you may any other wickedness ;
jou may suppress a topic of defence,
or soften an attack upon opponents,
or weaken your own argument, and
sacrifice the man who has put his
trust in you, rather than provoke the
powerful by the triumphant establish-
ment of unwelcome innocence : but if
you do this, you are a guilty man
before God. It is better to keep within
the pale of honour, it is better to be
pure in Christ, and to feel that you
are pure in Christ : and if ever the
praises of mankind are sweet, if it be
ever allowable to a Christian to
breathe the incense of popular favour,
and to say it is grateful and good, it is
when the honest, temperate, unyield-
ing advocate, who has protected inno-
cence from the grasp of power, is
followed from the hall of judgment by

the prayers and blessings of a grateful
people.

These are the Christian excellences
which the members of the profession
of the law have, above all, an oppor-
tunity of cultivating : this is your
tribute to the happiness of your
fellow-creatures, and these your pre-
parations for eternal life. Do not lose
God in the fervour and business of the
world ; remember that the churches of
Christ are more solemn, and more
sacred, than your tribunals ; bend not
before the judges of the king, and
forget the Judge of judges; search
not other men's hearts without heed-
ing that your own hearts will be
searched ; be innocent in the midst of
subtilty ; do not carry the lawful arts
of your profession beyond your pro-
fession; but when the robe of the
advocate is laid aside, so live that no
man shall dare to suppose your
opinions venal, or that your talents
and energy may be bought for a
price : do not heap scorn and con-
tempt upon your declining years, by
precipitate ardour for success in your
profession; but set out with a Arm
determination to be unknown, rather
than ill known ; and to rise honestly,
if you rise at all. Let the world see
that you have risen, because the natu-
ral probity of your heart leads you to
truth ; because the precision and extent
of your legal knowledge enables you
to find the right way of doing the right
thing; because the thorough knowledge
of legal art and legal form is, in your
hands, not an instrument of chicanery,
but the plainest, easiest, and shortest
way to the end of strife. Impress
upon yourself the importance of your
profession ; consider that some of the
greatest and most important interests
of the world are committed to your
care — that you are our protectors
against the encroachments of power —
that you are the preservers of freedom,
the defenders of weakness, the unra-
vellers of cunning, the investigators of
artifice, the humblers of pride, and the
scourges of oppression : when you
are silent, the sword leaps from its
scabbard, and nations are given up to
the madness of internal strife. In all

O 2

196

THE LAWYER THAT TEMPTED CHRIST.

the ciYil difficnlties of life, men de-
pend upon jour exercised faculties,
and joor spotless integrity ; and thej
require of jou an elevation abore all
that is mean, and a spirit which will
nerer yield when it ought not to yield.
As long as your profession retains its
character for learning, the rights of
mankind will be well arranged ; as
long as it retains its character for
Tirtuons boldness, those rights will be
well defended; as long as it pre-
serves itself pure and iDcormptible on
other occasions not connected with

your profession, those talents will
never be used to the public iojaiy,
which were intended and nurtured for
the public good. I hope you will
weigh these observations, and apply
them to the business of the ensaiog
week, and beyond that, in the common
occupations of your profession : always
bearing in your minds the emphatic
words of the text, and often in the
hurry of your busy, active lives,
honestly, humbly, heartily exclaiming
to the Son of God, ** Master, what
shall I do to inherit eternal life ?**

SPEECHES.

MEETING OF THE CLERGY
OF CLEVELAND.

MarcK 1825.

[From the Yorkshire Herald.']

Mr. Archdeaooit, — I am extremely
sorry that the clergy of the North
Riding of Yorkshire have abandoned
that distinction and pre-eminence,
which they have held over the clergy
of the other two Ridings, in their ab-
stinence from political discussion and
from public meetings, on the subject
of the Catholics. I sincerely wish that
nothing had been done, and no meet-
ing of any description called. As it
has been called, it is my duty to at-
tend it, and certainly I will riot attend
in silence. Do not let my learned
brethren, however, be alarmed ; I am
not going to inflict upon them a speech.
I never attended a public political
meeting before in my life ; nor have I
cfer made a speech ; and therefore my
vant of skill is a pretty good security
to you for my want of length.

There are two difficulties in speak-
ing upon the subject ; — one, that the
topics are very numerous, the other,
that they are trite; — the last I cannot
core, nor can you cure it; and we must
^ agree to suffer patiently under each
other. I shall obviate the first by con-
fining myself to those commonplaces
in which the strength of the enemy
seems principally to consist : if they
have been . an hundred times refuted
before, do not blame me for refuting

them again, bat take the blame to
yourselves for advancing them!

The first dictum of the enemies of
the Catholics is, that they are not to be
believed upon their octOi ; bqt upon
what condition did the parliament of
1793 grant to the Catholics immunity
and relief ? Upon the condition that
they should sign certain oaths; and why
was this made a condition, if the oath
of a Catholic is not credible ? Or is a
small subdivision of the clergy of the
North Riding of Yorkshire to consider
that test as futile, and those securities
as frail, which the united wisdom of
the British Parliament has deemed
sufficient for the most sacred acts, and
the most solemn laws ? I ana almost
ashamed to ask you (for it has been
regularly asked in this discussion for
thirty years past), by what are the
Catholics excluded from the offices for
which they petition, unless by their
respect for oaths? If they do not re-
spect oaths they cannot be excluded ;
if they do respect oaths, why do you
exclude them when you have such
means of safety and security in your
own hands? If Catholics are so care-
less of their oaths, show me some sus-
pected Catholic who has crept into
place by perjury ; who has enjoyed
those advantages by his own impiety,
which are denied to him by the justice
of the law: I not only do not know an
instance of this kind, but I never
heard of such an instance : — if you
have heard such an instance, produce
it ; if not, give up your gratuitous and

o 3

19S

SFEECn AT CLEVELAKD.

Bcandaloiu diarge. Bat not aolj do I
see men of the greatest rank and for-
tane rabiuitting to the most mortifying
privations for the sake of oaths, bot I
see the lowest and poorest Catholics
give up their right of voting at elec-
tions, sacrificing the opportunity of
supporting the fayoorer of their fa-
Yonrite question, and suffering the
disgrace of rejection at the hustings,
from their deUcate and conscientious
regard to the solemn covenant of an
oath« What magistrate dares reject
the oath of a Catholic ? What judge
dares reject it ? Is not property
changed, is not liberty abridged, is not
the blood of the malefactor shed? Are
not the most solemn acts of law, both
here and in Ireland, founded and bot-
tomed upon the oath of a Catholic ?
Is no peace, is no league, made with
Catholics? do not the repose and hap-
piness of Europe often rest upon the
oaths and asseverations of Catholics ?
Does mj learned brother forget that
two-thirds of Christian Europe are
Catholics? — and am I to understand
from him, that this vast proportion of
the Christian world is deficient in the
common elements of civil life? — that
thej are no more capable of herding
together than the brutes of the field? —
that they appeal to God only to allay
suspicion, and to protect fraud ? If
such are his opinions, I must tell him
(though I am sure he neither knows
the mischief, nor means it), that Car-
lile, in his wildest blasphemies against
the Christian religion, never uttered
anything against it so horrible and so
unjust

I come now to another common
phrase, the parent of much bigotry
and mischief ; and that is, that *' The
spirit of the Catholic religion is «n-
changeable and unchanged" Now, Sir,
I must tell these gentlemen of the 15th
century, that if this method of appealing
to the absurdities of a past age, and
impinging them upon the present age
is fair and just, it must be a rule as
applicable to one sect as to another.
Upon this principle, I may call the
Church of Scotland a persecuting
Church, because, in the year 1646, it
petitioned Parliament for the severest

persecution of heretics. Upon the
same principle, CatlK^cs might retort
upon our own Church the many Ca-
tholics condemned to death in the
reign of Elizabeth ; — upon this prin-
ciple they might cast in your teeth the
decrees of the University of Oxford, in
support of passive obedience, ordered
by the House of Commons to be burned
by the hands of the common hangman
in the reign of Queen Anne; they might
remind you of the atrocious and im-
moral acts of Parliament, passed by
the IVotestant parliaments of Ireland
against its Catholic inhabitants, during
the reigns of George L and Greorge II.
Wickedness and cruelty such as the
Spartan would not have exercised upon
his helot — such as the planter would
abstain from with his slave — one of
the worst and most wicked periods of
human history ! Are all these impu-
tations true now, because they were
true then f Has not the General As-
sembly of the Church of Scotland
almost petitioned in favour of the
Catholics? Would any Protestant
church now condemn to death those
who dissented from the doctrines of its
establishment ? All dissenters live in
the midst of our venerable establish-
ment unmolested, and under the broad
canopy of the law. It is not now pos-
sible, with all the intelligence and wis-
dom which characterises that learned
body, that a similar decree should
emanate from the University of Oxford.
For all our own institutions we claim
the benefit of time ; and, like Joshua,
bid the sun stand still, when we want
to smite and discomfit our enemies.
But, Sir, remember at what a period
this assertion is made — of the nn^
changed and unchangeable spirit of
the Catholic religion. The Catholic
revenues are destroyed, and yet the
spirit of submission to priests is the
same in the minds of the lay Catholics
who have voted for the destruction of
these revenues. The inquisitions are
broken open^the chains of the victims
are loosened — the fires are quenched
— the Catholic churches are deserted !
In Spain, in France, in Italy, the priests
are reduced to a state of beggary; and
yet the authors of this meeting can see

SPEECH AT CLEVELAND.

199

no change in the minds of the Catho-
lics. Sir, I meet this absolute assertion
with an absolute denial I and I bring
mj proofs. Let the mover of this re-
solution read the oath of 1793, taken
by the four Catholic archbishops, the
bishops and clergy of Ireland, — let
him read the rescript of pope Pius VL,
of the 17th of June, 1791, — let him
read the solemn resolutions of six of
the most considerable Catholic univer-
sities of Europe, required and received
by Mr. Pitt, — let him remember that
the pope has continued a Catholic
bishop of Malta, nominated to that see
by the late king ; and now let the
learned gentleman produce to me, from
his records, such facts, such opinions,
such clear declarations, such securities,
and such liberality as these. He has
nothing to produce, and nothing to
say, but the trita cantilena that **the
spirit of the Catholic religion is un-
changeable and unchanged." Sir, if I
could suffer my understanding to be
debauched by such a mere jingle of
words— if I could say that any human
spirit was unchanged and unchange-
able, I should say so of that miserable
spirit of religious persecution, of that
monastic meanness, of that monopoly
of heaven, which says to other human
beings, ** If you will not hold up your
hands in prayer as I hold mine — if you
will not worship your God as I wor-
ship mine, I will blast you with civil
incapacities, and keep you for ever in
the dust." This, Sir, of all the demons
which haunt the earth, is the last bad
spirit which retires before justice, cou-
rage, and truth.

I must not pass over (while I am
cleansing gutters and sweeping streets)
the notable phrase of **a government
estenttalty Protestant" If this phrase
mean anything, it means nothing use-
ful to the arguments of my opponents.
In clinging to this phrase, which, by
tiie smiles and nods of the gentlemen
opposite, appears to give them peculiar
delight, they must mean, I suppose,
Episcopalian as well as Protestant, for
they never can mean that our govern-
ment is essentially Presbyterian, essen-
tially Swedenborgian, essentially Rant-
ing, or essentialiy Methodist. With

this limitation, I beg to ask why this
essentially Protectant government al-
lows Unitarians and Presbyterians in
the bosom of its legislature ? Why
there is a regular Catholic establish-
ment in Malta and in Canada? Why
it tolerates (nay, even endows) Maho-
medan and Hindoo establishments ?
In the midst of this ** essentially Pro-
testant government,'* sat Catholic peers
and Catholic commoners for more than
a century — without blame, without
reproach, without religious conflict, in
civil harmony, and in theological
peace.

Now I come to the danger! What
is it ? Is it from foreign intercourse ?
But is the question now agitated for
the first time, whether or not the priests
of Ireland are to have intercourse with
a foreign power ? That intercourse
has subsisted for centuries, does subsist
at this moment, in full vigour, unin-
spected and uncontrolled. Mr. Grat-
tan*s bill, which I strongly suspect the
learned mover never to have read,
subjects all this intercourse to the in-
spection of Protestant commissioners,
punishes, not with obsolete penalties
like the present laws, but with adequate
and proper punishment, any clandes-
tine intercourse with Rome. I really
did expect that my learned brothers
would be able to discriminate the re-
medy from the disease, and that when
they had resolved to be frightened,
they would at least have ascribed their
agitation to the unrestrained intercourse
|prith Rome; and not to the very mea-
sures which are intended to prevent it.
Does the learned mover Imagine that
the Protestants, like children, are going
to lay open all offices to the Catholics
without exception and without precau-
tion? No Catholic chancellor, no
Lord-keeper, no Lord-Lieutenant of
Ireland, no place in any ecclesiastical
court of judicature ; and many other
restraints and negatived are contained
in the intended emancipation of the
Catholics. Then let the learned gen-
tleman read the proposed oath. I defy
Dr. Duigenan, in the full vigour of his
incapacity, in the strongest access of
that Protestant epilepsy with which be
was so often convulsed, to have added

o 4

200

SPEECH AT CLEVELAND.

a single security to the secaritj of that
oath. If Catholics are fonnidable, are
not Protestant members elected by
Catholics formidable? Bat what will
the numbers of the Catholics be? Five
or six in one hoase, and ten or twelve
in the other; and this I state upon the
printed authority of Lord Harrowby,
the tried and acknowledged friend of
our Church, the amiable and revered
patron of its poorest members. The
Catholics did not rebel during the war
carried on for a Catholic king in the
year 1715, nor in 1745. The govern-
ment armed the Catholics in the
American war. The last rebellion no
one pretends to have been a Catholic
rebellion, the leaders were, with one
exception, all Protestants. The .king
of Prussia, the emperor of Russia, do
not complain of their Catholic subject&
The Swiss cantons. Catholic and Pro-
testant, live together in harmony and
peace. Childish prophecies of danger
are always made, and always falsified.
The Church of England (if you will
believe some of its members) is the
most fainting, sickly, hysterical institu-
tion that ever existed in the world.
Everything is to destroy it, everything
to work its dissolution and decay. If
money is taken for tithes, the Church
of England is to pejish. If six old
Catholic peers, and twelve commoners,
come into Parliament, these holy
hypochondriacs tear their hair, and
beat their breast, and mourn over the
ruin of their Established Church! The
Banter of yesterday is cheerful an<^
confident. The Presbyterian stands'
upon his principles. The Quaker is
calm and contented. The strongest,
and wisest, and best establishment in
the world, suffers in the full vigour of
manhood all the fears and the trem-
blings of extreme old age.

. A vast deal is said of the spirit of
the Church of Home, and of the claims
it continues tcf make. But what sig-
nify its claims, and of what importance
is its spirit ? The bill will refuse all
office to Catholics, who will not, by the
most solemn oath, restrain this spirit,
and abjure their claims. What esta-
blishment can muzzle its fools and
lunatics? No one who will not abjure

these Catholic follies can take anything
by Catholic emancipation. The bill
which emancipates, is not a bill to
emancipate all Catholics ; but only to
emancipate those who will prove to us,
by the most solemn obligations, that
they are wise and moderate Catholics.

I conclude. Sir, remarks which, upon
such a subject, might be carried to
almost any extent, with presenting to
you a petition to Parliament, and re-
commending it for the adoption of this
meeting. And upon this petition, I
beg leave to say a few words: — I am
the writer of the petition I lay before
you; and I have endeavoured to make
it as mild and moderate as I possibly
could. If I had consulted my own
opinions a2cme, I should have said, that
the disabling laws against the Catho-
lics were a disgrace to the statute-book,
and that every principle of justice,
prudence, and humanity, called for
their immediate repeal ; but he who
wishes to do anything useful in this
world, must consult the opinions of
others as well as his own. I knew
very well if I had proposed such a
petition to my excellent friends, the
Archdeacon and Mr. William Vernon,
it would not have suited the mildness
and moderation of their character, that
they should accede to it; and I knew
very well, that without the authority
of their names, I could have done
nothing. The present petition, when
proposed to them by me, met, as I ex-
pected, with their ready and cheerful
compliance. But though I propose
this petition as preferable to the other,
I should infinitely prefer that we do
nothing, and disperse without coming
to any resolution.

I am sick of these little clerico-poli-
tical meetings. They bring a disgrace
upon us and upon our profession, and
make us hateful in the eyes of the laity.
The best thing we could have done,
would have been never to have met at
alL The next best thing we can do
(now we are met), is to do nothing.
The third choice is to take my petition.
The fourth, last, and worst, to adopt
your own. The wisest thing I have
heard here to-day, is the proposition
of Mr. Chaloner, that we should bora

SPEECH AT BEVERLEY OK THE CATHOLIC CLAIMS. 201

both petitions, and ride home. Here
we are, a set of obscure country
clergymen, at the ••Three Tuns/* at
Thirsk, like flies on the chariot-wheel ;
perched ^pon a question of which we
can neither see the diameter, nor con-
trol the motion, nor influence the
moving force. What good can such
meetings do ? They emanate from
local conceit, advertise local ignorance;
make men, who are venerable by their
profession, ridiculous by their preten-
sions, and swell that mass of paper
lumber, which, gpt up with infli\ite
rural bustle, and read without being
heard in Parliament, are speedily con-
signed to merited contempt.

A PETITION

Proposed bp the Bev, Sydney Smith, at a
Meeting of the Clergy of Cleveland, in
Yorkshire, on the subject of the CathoHe
Question.— 182S.

We, the undersigned, being clergymen
of the Church of England, resident
within the diocese of York, humbly
petition your Honourable Hotise to
take into your consideration the state
of those laws which affect the Roman
Catholics of Great Britain and Ireland.

We beg you to inquire, whether all
those statutes, however wise and ne-
cessary in their origin, may not now
(when the Church of England is rooted
in the public affection, and the title to
the throne undisputed) be wisely and
safely repealed.

We are steadfast friends to that
Church of which we are members, and
we wish no law repealed which is really
essential to its safety; but we submit
to the superior wisdom of your Honour-
able House, whether that Church is not
sufficiently protected by its antiquity,
by its learning, by its piety, and by
that moderate tenor which it knows so
well how to preserve amidst the oppo-
site excesses of mankind — the indif-
ference of one age, and the fanaticism
of auother.

It' is our earnest hope, that any
indulgence you might otherwise think
it expedient to extend to the Catholic
subjects of this realm, may not be pre-

vented by the intemperate conduct of
some few members of that persuasion;
that in the great business of framing a
lasting religious peace for these king-
doms, the extravagance of over-heated
minds, or t)ie studied insolence of men
who intend mischief, may be equally
overlooked.

If your Honourable House should,
in your wisdom, determine that all
these laws, which are enacted against
the Roman Catholics, cannot with
safety and advantage be repealed, we
then venture to express an hope, that
such disqualifying laws alone will be
suffered to remain, which you consider
to be clearly required for the good of
the Church and State.

We feel the blessing of our own re-
ligious liberty, and we think it a serious
duty to extend it to others, in every
degree in which sound discretion will
permit.

Note.— This meeting was very nume-
rously attended by the clei^. Mr. Arch-
deacon Wrangham and ^e Reverend
William Yemon Harcourt (son of the late
Archbishop of York), a very enlightened
and liberal man, were the only persons who
supported the Petition.

CATHOLIC CLAIMS.

A Speech at a Meeting qf the Clergy qf the
Archdeaconry qf the East Biding qf
Yorkshire, held a!t Beverley, in that
Biding, on Monday, April 11, 1825, for
the purpose qf petitioning Parliament,
Ac*

[Prom the Yorkshire SeraXd^

Mr. Archd^jacon, — It is very dis-
agreeable to me to differ from so many
worthy and respectable clergymen here
assembled, and not only to differ from
them, but, I am afraid, to stand alone
among them. I would much rather
vote in majorities, and join in this, or
any other political chorus, than to
stand unassisted and alone, as I am
now doing. I dislike such meetings for

* I was left at this meeting in a minority
of one. A poor olei^man whispered to me,
that he was quite of my way of thinking,
but had nine children. J begged he would
remain a Protestant,

202

SPEECH AT BEVEBLET

each purposes — I wish I could re-
concile it to my conscience to stay
away from them, and to my tempera-
ment to be silent at them ; but if they
are called by others, I deem it right to
attend — if I attend, I must say what I
think. If it be unwise in us to meet in
tayerns to discuss political subjects, the
fault is not mine, for I should never
think of calling such a meeting. If the
subject is trite, no blame is imputable
to me : it is as dull to me to handle
such subjects, as it is to yon to hear
them. The customary promise on the
threshold of an inn is good entertain-
ment for man and horse. — If there be
any truth in any part of this sentence
at the Tiger, at Beverley, our horses at
this moment must certainly be in a
state of much greater enjoyment than
the masters who rode them.

It will be some amusement, however,
to this meeting, to observe the schism
which this question has occasioned in
my own parish of Londesborough. My
excellent and respectable curate, Mr.
Milestones, alarmed at the effect of the
Pope upon the East Biding, has come
here to oppose me, and there he stands,
breathing war and vengeance on the
Vatican. We had some previous con-
versation on this subject, and, in imi-
tation of our superiors, we agreed not
to make it a Cabinet question. — Mr.
Milestones, indeed, with that delicacy
and propriety which belongs to his
character, expressed some scruples
upon the propriety of voting against
his rector, but I insisted he should
come and vote against me. I assured
him nothing would give me more pain
than to think I had prevented, in any
man, the free assertion of honest opi-
nions. That such conduct, on his
part, instead of causing jealousy and
animosity between us, could not, and
would not, fail to increase my regard
and respect for him.

I beg leave, Sir, before I proceed on
this subject, to state what I mean by
Catholic emancipation. I mean eligi-
bility of Catholics to all civil offices,
with the usual exceptions introduced
into all bills — jealous safeguards for
the preservation of the Protestant
Church, and for the regulation of the

intercourse with Borne — and, lastly,
provision for the Catholic clergy.

I ohject. Sir, to the law as it stands
at present, because it is impolitic, and
because it is unjust It is impolitic,
because it exposes this country to the
greatest danger in time of war. Can.
you believe, Sir, can any man of the
most ordinary turn for observation be-
lieve, that the monarchs of Europe
mean to leave this country in the quiet
possession of the high station which it
at present holds ? Is it not obvious
that a war is coming on between the
governments of law and the govern-
ments of despotism ? — that the weak
and tottering race of the Bourbons will
(whatever bur wishes may be) be com-
pelled to gratify the wounded vanity of
the French, by plunging them into a war
with England. Already they are pity-
ing the Irish people, as you pity the
West Indian slaves — already they are
opening colleges for the reception of
Irish priests. Will they wait for your
tardy wisdom and reluctant liberality?
Is not the present state of Ireland a
premium upon early invasion ? Does
it not hold out the most alluring invi-
tation to your enemies to begin ? And
if the flag of any hostile power in Eu*
rope is unfurled in that unhappy
country, is there one Irish peasant who
will not hasten to join it? — and not
only the peasantry. Sir ; the peasantry
begin these things, but the peasantry
do not end them — they are soon joined
by an. order a little above them — and
then, after a trifling success, a still
superior class think it worth while to
try the risk : men are hurried into a
rebellion, as the oxen were pulled into
the cave of Cacus, tail foremost The
mob first, who have nothing to lose
but their lives, of which every Irish-
mati has nine — then comes the shop-
keeper — then the parish priest — then
the vicar-general — then Dr. Doyle,
and, lastly, Daniel 0*Connell. But if
the French were to make the same
blunders respecting Ireland as Napo-
leon committed, if wind and weather
preserved Ireland for you a second
time, still all your resources would be
crippled by watching Ireland. The
force employed for this might liberate

ON THE CATHOLIC CLAIMS.

203

Spain and Fortngal, ^protect India, or
accomplish any great purpose of offence
or defence.

War, Sir, seems to be almost as na-
taral a state to mankind as peace ; but
if you could hope to escape war, is
there a more powerful receipt for de-
stroying the prosperity of any country
than these eternal jealousies and dis-
tinctions between the two religions ?
What man will carry his industry and
his capital into a country where his
yard measure is a sword, his pounce-
box a powder-flask, and his ledger a
return of killed and wounded ? Where
a cat will get, there I know a cotton-
spinner will penetrate ; but let these
gentlemen wait till a few of tbeir fac-
tories have been burnt down, till one
or two respectable merchants of Man-
chester have been carded, and till they
have seen the Cravatists hanging the
Shanavists in cotton twist. In the
present fervour for spinning, ourang-
outangs, Sir, would be employed to
spin, if they could be found in suffi-
cient quantities ; but miserably will
those reasoners be disappointed who
repose upon cotton — not upon justice
—and who imagine this great question
can be put aside, because a few hun-
dred Irish spinners are gaining a mor-
sel of bread by the overflowing industry
of the English market.

Bat what right have you to continue
these rules. Sir, these laws of exclusion?
What necessity can you show for it ?
Is the (signing monarch a concealed
Catholic ? — Is his successor an open
one?-:- Is there a disputed succession?
—Is there a Catholic pretender? If
some of these circumstances are said
to have justified the introduction, and
others the continuation, of these mea-
sares, why does not the disappearance
of all these circumstances justify the
repeal of the restrictions? If you must
be unjust — if it is a luxury you cannot
live without — reserve your injustice
for the weak, and not for the strongs
persecute the Unitarians, muzzle the
Banters, be unjust to a few thousand
sectaries, not to six millions — galvanise
& frog,' don't galvanise a tiger.

If you go into a parsonage-house in
the country, Mr. Archdeacon, you see

sometimes a -style and fashion of fur-
niture which does very well for us, but
which has had its day in London. It
is seen in London no more ; it is ba-
nished to the provinces; from the gen-
tleman's houses of the provinces these
pieces of furniture, as soon as they are
discovered to be unfashionable, descend
to the farm-houses, then to cottages,
then to the faggot*heap, then to the
dung-bill. As it is with furniture so
it is with ai^uments. I hear at country
meetings many arguments against the
Catholics which are never heard in
London : their London existence is
over — they are only to be met with in
the provinces, and there they are fast
hastening down, with clumsy chairs
and ill-fashioned sofas, to another
order of men. But, Sir, as they are
not yet gone where I am sure they are
going, I shall endeavour to point out
their defects, and to accelerate their
descent.

Many gentlemen now assembled at
the Tiger Inn, at Beverley, believe that
the Catholics do not keep faith with
heretics ; these gentlemen ought to
know that Mr. Pitt put this very ques-
tion to six of the leading Catholic
Universities in Europe. He inquired
of them whether this tenet did or did
not constitute any part of the Catholic
faith. The question received from
these Universities the most decided
negative ; they denied that such doc-
trine formed any part of the creed of
Catholics. Such doctrine. Sir, is de-
nied upon oath, in the. bill now pend-
ing in Parliament, a copy of which I-
hold in my hand. The denial of
such a doctrine upon oath is the only
means by which a Catholic can relieve
himself from his present incapacities.
If a Catholic, therefore, Sir, will not
take the oath, he is not relieved, and
remains where you wish him to remain;
if he do take the oath, you are safo
from this peril ; if he have no scruple
about oaths, of what consequence is it
whether this bill passes, the very ob-
ject of which is to relieve him from
oaths? Look at the fact. Sir. Do the
Protestant cantons of Switzerland,
living under the same state with the
[Catholic cantons, complain that no

204

SPEECH AT BEVERLEY

fatth is kept with heretics? Do not
the Catholics and Protestants in the
kingdom of the Netherlands meet in
one common Parliament? Could they
pursue a common purpose, have com-
mon friends, and common enemies, if
there were a shadow of truth in this
doctrine imputed to the Catholics ?
The religious affairs of this last king-
dom are managed with the strictest
impartiality to both sects; ten Catholics
and ten Protestants (gentlemen need
not look so much surprised to hear it)
positively meet together. Sir, in the
same room. They constitute what is
called the religious committee for the
kingdom of the Netherlands, and so
extremely desirous are they of pre-
serying the strictest impartiality, that
they have chosen a Jew for their secre-
tary. Their conduct has been unim-
peachable and unimpeached ; the two
sects are at peace with each other; and
the doctrine, that no faith is kept with
heretics, would, I assure you, be very
little credited at Amsterdam or the
Hague, cities as essentially Protestant
as the town of Beverley.

Wretched is our condition, and still
more wretched the condition of Ireland,
if the Catholic does not respect his
oath. He serves on grand and petty
juries in both countries ; we trust our
lives, our liberties, and our properties,
to his conscientious reverence of an
oath, and yet, when it Buits the por-
IK)ses of party to bring forth this argu-
ment, we say he has no respect for
oaths. The right to a landed estate of
SOOO/. per annum was decided last
week, in York, by a jury, the foreman
of which was a Catholic ; does any
human being harbour a thought, that
this gentleman, whom we all know
and respect, would, under any circum-
stances, have thought more lightly of
the obligation of an oath than his Pro-
testant brethren of the box ? We all
disbelieve these arguments of Mr. A.
the Catholic, and of Mr. B. the Ca-
tholic ; but we believe them of Catho-
lics in general, of the abstract Catholics,
of the Catholic of the Tiger Inn, at
Beverley, the formidable unknown
Catholic, that is so apt to haunt our
clerical meetinga

I observe that some gentlemen who
argue this question are very bold about
other offices, but very jealous lest Ca-
tholic gentlemen should become justices
of the peace. If this jealousy be justi-
fiable anywhere, it is justifiable in Ire-
land, where some of the best and most
respectable magistrates are Catholics.

It is not true that the Roman Catho*
lie religion is what it was. I meet
that assertion with a plump denial
The Pope does not dethrone kings, nor
give away kingdoms, does not extort
money, has given up, in some instances,
the nomination of bishops to Catholic
Princes, in some I believe to Protestant
Princes : Protestant worship is now
carried on at Rome. In the Low
Countries, the seat of the Duke of
Alva's cruelties, the Catholic tolerates
the Protestant, and sits with him in
the same Parliament -r- the same in
Hungary — the same in France. The
first use which even the Spanish people
made of their ephemeral liberty was to
destroy the Inquisition. It was de-
stroyed also by the mob of Portugal*
I am so far from thinking the Catholic
not to be more tolerant than \he was,
that I am much afraid the English,
who gave the first lesson of toleration
to mankind, will very soon have a
great deal to learn from their pupils.

Some men quarrel with the Catho-
lics, because their language was violent
in the Association ; but a groan or
two. Sir, after two hundred years of
incessant tyranny, may surely be for-
given. A few warm phrases to com-
pensate the legal massacre of a million
of Irishmen are not unworthy of onr
pardon. All this hardly deserves the
eternal incapacity of holding civil
offices. Then they quarrel with the
Bible Society ; in other words, they
vindicate that ancient tenet of their
Church, that the Scriptures are not to
be left to the unguided judgment of
the laity. The objection to Catholics
is, that they did what Catholics ought
to do — and do not many prelates of
our Church object to the Bible So-
ciety, and contend that the Scriptures
ought not to be circulated without the
comment of the Prayer Book and the
Articles ? If they are right, the Catho-

ON THE CATHOLIC CLAIMS.

^05

lies are not wrong ; and if the Catho-
lics are wrong, thej are in such good
company, that we oaght to respect
their errors.

Why not pay their clergy ? the
Preshyterian clergy in the north of
Ireland are paid by the state: the
Catholic clei^ of Canada are pro-
vided for: the priests of the Hindoos
are, I belieye, in some of their temples,
paid by the Company. Ton mast
surely admit, that the Catholic religion
(the religion of two thirds of Europe)
is better than no religion. I do not
regret that the Irish are under the
dominion of the priests. I am glad
that 80 sayage a people as the lower
orders of Irish are under the dominion
of their priests ; for it is a step gained
to place such beings under any in-
fluence, and the clergy are always the
first civilisers of mankind. The Irish
are deserted by their natural aristo-
cracy, and I should wish to make
their priesthood respectable in their
appearance, and easy in their circum-
stances. A gOTernment provision has
produced the most important changes
in the opinions of the Presbyterian
clergy of the north of Ireland, and
has changed them from levellers and
Jacobins into reasonable men ; it would
not fail to improve most materially
the political opinions of the Catholic
priests. This cannot, however, be
done, without the emancipation of the
laity. No priest would dare to accept
a salary from Government, unless this
preliminary were settled, I am aware
it would give to Government a tre-
mendous power in that country; but
I must choose the least of two evils.
The great point, as the physicians say,
in some diseases, is to resist the ten-
dency to death. The great object of
our day is to prevent the loss of Ire-
land, and the consequent ruin of Eng-
land ; to obviate the tendency to death ;
we will first keep the patient alive, and
then dispute about his diet and his
medicine.

Suppose -a law were passed, that no
clergyman, who had ever held a living
in the East Biding, could be made a
bishop. Many gentlemen here (who
have no hopes of ever being removed

from their parishes) would feel the
restriction of the law as a considerable
degradation. We should soon be
pointed at as a lower order of clergy-
men. It would not be long before the
common people would find some fortu^
nate epithet for us, and it would not be
long either before we should observe
in our brethren of the north and the
west an air of superiority, which would
aggravate not a little the injustice of
the privation. Every man feels the
insults thrown upon his aistei the in*
suited party falls lower, everybody
else becomes higher. There are heart-
burnings and recollections. Peace flies
from that land. The volume of Par-
liamentary evidence I have brought
here is loaded with the testimony of
witnesses of all ranks and occupations,
stating to the House of Commons the
undoubted effects produced upon the
lower order of Catholics by these dis-
qualifying laws, and the lively interest
they take in their removal. I have
seventeen quotations. Sir, from this
evidence, and am ready to give any
gentleman my references \ but I forr
bear to read them, from compassion to
my reverend brethren, who have trotted
many miles to vote against the Pope,
and who will trot back in the dark, if
I attempt to throw additional light
upon the subject.

I have, also. Sir, a high-spirited
class of gentlemen to deal with, who
will do nothing from fear, who admit
the danger, but think it disgraceful to
act as if they feared it. There is a
degree of fear, which destroys a man's
faculties, renders him incapable of
acting, and makes him ridiculous.
There is another sort of fear, which
enables a man to foresee a coming
evil, to measure it, to examine his
powers of resistance, to balance the
evil of submission against the evils of
opposition or defeat, and if he thinks
he must be ultimately overpowered,
leads him to find a good escape in a
good time. I can see no possible dis-
grace in feeling this sort of fear, and
in listening to its suggestions. But it
is mere cant to say, that men will not
be actuated by fear in such questions
as these. Those who pretend not to

206 SPEECH AT BEVERLEY ON JHE CATHOLIC CLAUIS.

fear now, would be tbe first to fear
npon the approach of danger; it is
always the case with this distant
vaionr. Most of the concessions which
haye been given to the Irish have been
l^iven to fear. Ireland wonld have
been lost to this country, if the British
Legislature had not, with all the ra-
pidity and precipitation of the truest
panic, passed those acts which Ireland
did not ask, but demanded in the
time of her armed associations. I
should not think a man brave, but
mad, who did not fear the treasons
and rebellions of Ireland in time of
war. I should think him not dastardly,
but consummately wise, who provided
against them in time of peace. The
Catholic question has made a greater
progress since the opening of this
Parliament than I ever remeipber it
to have made, and it has made that
progress from fear alone. The House
of Commons were astonished by the
union of the Irish Catholics. They
saw that Catholic Ireland had dis-
covered her strength, and stretched
out her limbs, and felt manly powers,
and called for manly treatment ; and
the House of Commons wisely and
practically yielded to the innovations
of time, and the shifting attitude of
human affairs.

I admit the Church, Sir, to be in
great danger. I am sure the State is
so also. My remedy for these evils
Is, to enter into an alliance with the
Irish people — to conciliate the clergy,
by giving them pensions — to loyalise
the laity, by putting them on a foot-
ing with the Protestant. My remedy
' is tbe old one, approved of from the
beginning of the world, to lessen
dangers, by increasing fViends, and
appeasing enemies. I think it most
probable that under this system of
Crown patronage the clergy will be
quiet. A Catholic layman, who finds
ail the honours of the state open to
him, will not, I think, run into treason
and rebellion — will not live with a
rope about his neck, in order to turn
our bishops out, and put his own in ;
he may not, too, be of opinion that
the utility of his bishop will be four
times as great, because his income is

four times as large; but whether he is
or not, he will never endanger his
sweet acres (large measure) for such
questions as these. Anti-Trinitarian
Dissenters sit in the House of Com-
mons, whom we believe to be con-
demned to the punishments of another
world. There is no limit to the in-
troduction of Dissenters into both
Houses — Dissenting Lords or Dis-
senting Commons. What mischief have
Dissenters for this last century and a
half plotted against the Church of
England ? The Catholic lord and tbe
Catholic gentleman (restored to their
fair rights) will never join with levellers
and Iconoclasts. Yon will find them
defending you hereafter against your
Protestant enemies. The crosier in
any hand, the mitre on any head, are
more tolerable in the eyes of a Catho-
lic than doxological Barebones and
tonsured CromwelL

We preach to our congregations,
Sir, that a tree is known by its fruits.
By the fruits it produces I will judge
your system. What has it done for
Ireland? New Zealand is emerging
— Otaheite is emerging — Ireland is
not emerging — she is still veiled in
darkness — her children, safe under no
law, live in the ^ery shadow of death.
Has your system of exclusion made
Ireland rich ? Has it made Ireland
loyal? Has it made Ireland free?
Has it made Ireland happy ? How is
the wealth of Ireland proved ? Is it
by the naked, idle, sufiering savages,
who are slumbering on the mud floor
of their cabins? In what does the
loyalty of Ireland consist ? Is it in
the eagerness with which they would
range themselves under the hostile
banner of any invader, for your des-
truction and for your distress ? Is it
liberty when men breathe and more
amongthe bayonets of English soldiers?
Is their happiness and their histoiy
anything but such a tissue of murders,
burnings, hanging, famine, and disease,
as never existed before in the annals
of the worid ? This is the system,
which, I am sure, with veiy different
intentions, and different views of iw
effects, you are met this day to uphold.
These are the dreadful conscqaencefi,

SPEECH AT THE TAUNTON REFORM MEETING.

which those laws* your petition prays
may be continaed, have produced upon

Ireland. From the principles of that
system, from the cruelty of those laws,
I torn, and turn with the homage of
my whole heart, to that memorable
proclamation which the Head of our
Church — the present monarch of these
realms — has lately made to his here-
ditary dominions of Hanover — That
no man should be subjected to civil
incapacities on account of reliffious
opinions. Sir, there have been many
memorable things done in this reign.
Hostile armies have been destroyed ;
fleets have been captured ; formidable
combinations have been broken to
pieces — but this sentiment in the mouth
of a King deserves more than ail
glories and victories the notice of that
historian who is destined to tell to
future ages the deeds of the English
people. I hope he will lavish upon it
every gem which glitters in the cabinet
of genius, and so uphold it to the
world that it will be remembered when
Waterloo is forgotten, and when the
fall of Paris is blotted out from the
memory of man. Great as it is, Sir,
this is not the only pleasure I have
received in these latter days. I have
seen within these few weeks a degree
of wisdom in our mercantile law,
such superiority to vulgar prejudice,
views so just and so profound, that it
seemed to me as if I was reading the
works of a speculative economist, rather
than the improvement of a practical
politician, agreed to by a legislative
assembly, and upon the eve of being
carried into execution, for the benefit
of a great people. Let who will be
their master, I honour and praise the
ministers who have learnt such a lesson.
I rejoice that I have lived to see such
an improvement in English affairs —
that the stubborn resistance to all im-
provement — the contempt of all scien-
tific reasoning, and the rigid adhesion
to every stupid error which so long
characterised the proceedings of this
country, is fast giving way to better
tilings, under better men, placed in
better circumstances.

I confess it is not without severe pain
that, in the midst of all this expansion

207
and improvement, I perceive that in
OKT profession we arc still calling for
the same exclusion— still asking that
the same fetters may be rivetted on
our fellow-creatures— still mistaking
what constitutes the weakness and mis-
fortune of the Church, for that which
contributes to its glory, its dignity, and
its strength. Sir, there are two peti-
tions at this moment in this House,
against two of the wisest and best
measures which ever came into the
British Pariiament, against the im-
pending Com Law and against the
Catholic Emancipation —the one bill
intended to increase the comforts, and
the other to allay the bad passions of-
man. Sir, I am not in a situation of
life to do much good, but I will take
care that I will not willingly do any
evil.— The wealth of the Riding should
not tempt me to petition against either
of tho^ bills. With the Corn Bill I
have nothing to do at this time. Of
the Catholic Emancipation Bill, I shall
say, that it will be the foundation stone
of a lasting religious peace ; that it
will give to Ireland not all that it
wants, but what it most wants, and
without which no other boon will bo
of any avail.

When this bill passes, it will be
a signal to all the religious sects of
that unhappy country to lay aside their
mutual hatred, and to live in peace,
as equal men should live under equal
law— when this bill passes, the Orange
flag will fall— when this bill passes,
the Green flag of the rebel will fall —
when this bill passes, no other flag will
*fly in the land of Erin than that which
blends the Lion with the Harp — that
flag which, wherever it does fly, is the
sign of freedom and of joy — the only
banner in Europe which floats over a
limited King and a free people.

SPEECH AT THE TAUNTON
REFORM MEETING *
[From the Tauntim Courier.']

Mr. Bailiff,— This is the greatest
measure w)iich has ever been before

• I was a sincere friend to Reform ; I am
so still. It was a great deal too violent—

208

SPEECH AT THE

Parliament in my time, and the most
pregnant with good or evil to the
country ; and though I seldom meddle
with political meetings, I could not
reconcile it to mj conscience to be
absent from this.

Every- year for this half centnry the
question of Reform has been pressing
upon us, till it has swelled up at last
into this great and awful combination ;
so that almost every City and every
Borough in England are at this moment
assembled for the same purpose, and
are doing the same thing we are doing.
It damps the ostentation of argument
and mitigates the pain of doubt, to
believe (as I believe) that the measure
is inevitable; the consequences may
be good or bad, but done it must be ;
I defy the most determined enemy of
popular influence, either now, or a
little time from now, to prevent a
Reform in Parliament Some years

but the only justification is, that yon cannot
reform as you wish, by degrees ; ^u must
avail yourself of the few opportumties that
present themselves. The Keform canied,
it became the business of every honest man
to turn it to good, and to see that the people
(drunk with their new power) did not ruin
our ancient institutions. We have been in
considerable danger, and that danger is not
over. What alanns me most is the large
price paid by both parties for popular
nvoor. The yeomamy were put down:
nothing oould oe more grossly absurd— the
people wwe rising up against the poor laws,
and such an excellent and permanent force
wna abolished because they were not
deemed a proper force to deal with popular
insurrections. Tou may just as well object
to put out a fire with pond water because
pump water is better for the purpose : I say,
put out the fire with the first water you
can get ;— but the truth is, Radicals don't
like armed yeomen : they have an ugly
homicide appearance. Again,— a million of
revenue is given up in the nonsensical
penny-post scheme, to please my old, excel-
lent, and universally dissentient ftriend,
Noah Warburton. I admire the Whig
Ministry, and think they have done more
good tmngs than all the ministries since
the Bevolution : but these concessions are
sad and unworthy marks of weakness, and
fill reasonable men with just alarm. All
this folly has taken place since they have
become ministers upon principles of chival-
ry and gallantry; and the Tories, too, for
fear of the people, have been much too quiet.
Them is only one principle of public con-
duct — Do what you thiwc right, and take
vkioe and power as Mi^aocidet^, Upon any
other plan, office is shabbtneas, labour, and |
sorrow. ,

ago, by timely concession, it might
have been prevented. If Members
had been granted to Birmingham,
Leeds, and Manchester, and other
great towns as opportunities occurred,
a spirit of conciliation would have
been evinced, and the people might
have been satisfied with a BefonK«
which though remote would have
been gradual ; but with the custom-
ary blindness and insolence of human
beings, the day of adversity was for-
gotten, the rapid improvement of the
people waa not noticed ; the object of
a certain class of politicians was to
please the Court and to gratify their
own arrogance by treating every at-
tempt to expand the representation,
and to increase the popular influence,
with every species of contempt and
obloquy : the golden opportunity was
lost ; and now proud lips must swallow
bitter potions.

The arguments and the practices
(as I remember to have heard Mr.
Huskisson say) which did very well
twenty years ago, will not do now.
The people read too much, think too
much, see too many newspapers, hear
too many speeches, have their eyes too
intensely fixed upon political events.
But if it were possible to put off Par-
liamentary Reform a week ago, is ic
possible now L When a Monarch
(whose amiable and popular manners
have, I verily believe, saved us from a
Bevolution) approves the measure —
when a Minister of exalted character
plans and fashions it -—when a Cabinet
of such varied talent and disposition
protects it — when such a body of the
Aristocracy vote for it — when the
hundred-horse power of the Press is la-
bouring for it ;^-who does not know
after this (whatever b^ the decision
of thd present Parliament) that the
measure is virtually carried — and that
all the struggle between such annun-
ciation of such a plan, and its com-
pletion, is tumult, disorder, disaiSec-
tion, and (it may be) politic^ ruin ?

An Honourable Member of the
Honourable House, much connected
with this town, and once its represen-
tative, seems to be amazingly sar-
I prised, and equally dissatisfied at this

TAUNTON REFORM MEETING.

209

combination of King, Ministers, Nobles,
and People, against his opinion: —
like the gentleman who came home
from serving on a jury very much dis-
concerted, and complaining he had
met with eleven of the most obstinate
people he had ever seen in his life,
whom he found it absolutely impos-
sible by the strongest arguments to
bring over to his way of thinking.

They tell you, gentlemen, that you
have grown rich and powerful with
these rotten boroughs, and that it
would be madness to part with them,
or to alter a constitution which had
produced such happy effects. There
happens, gentlemen, to live near my
parsonage a labouring man, of very
superior character and understanding
to his fellow 'labourers ; and who has
made such good use of that superiority,
that he has saved what is (for his
station in life) a very considerable sum
of money, and if his existence be ex-
tended to the common period, he will
die rich. It happens, however, that
he is (and long has been) troubled
with violent stomachic pains, for which
he has hitherto obtained no relief, and
which really are the bane and torment
of his life. Now, if my excellent la-
bourer were to send for a physician,
and to consult him respecting this
maUdy, would it not be very singular
language if our doctor were to say to
him, ''My good friend, you surely
will not be so rash as to attempt to
get rid of these pains in your stomach.
Have you not grown rich with these
pains in your stomach ? have you not
risen under them from poverty to pros-
perity? has not your situation, since
yon were first attacked, been improv-
ing every year ? You surely will not
be so foolish and so indiscreet as to
part with the pains in your stomach?'*
— Why, what would be the answer of
the rustic to this nonsensical monition ?
"Monster of Rhubarb I (he would say)
I am not rich in consequence of 'the
pains in my stomach, but in spite of
the pains in my stomach ; and I should
have been ten times richer, and fifty
times happier, if I had never had any
pains in my stomach at all." Gentle-
men, these rotteo boroughs are your

VouIL

pains in the stomach — and you would
have been a much richer and greater
people if you had never had them at
all. Your wealth and your power
have been owing, not to the debase
and corrupted parts of the House of
Commons, but to the many indepen-
dent and honourable Members, whom
it has always contained within its
walls. If there had been a few more
of these very valuable members for
close boroughs, we should, I verily
believe, have been by this time about
as free as Denmark, Sweden, or the
Germanised States of Italy.

They tell you of the few men ot
name and character who have sat for
boroughs ; but nothing is said of those
mean and menial men who are sent
down every day by their aristocratic
masters to continue unjust and un-
necessary wars, to prevent inquiring
into profligate expenditure, to take
money out of your pockets, or to do
any other bad or base thing which the
Minister of the day may require at
their unclean hands. What mischief,
it is asked, have these boroughs done?
I believe there is not a day of your
lives in which you are not suffering in
all the taxed conmiodities of life from
the accumulation of bad votes of bad
men. But, Mr. Bailiff, if this were
otherwise, if it really were a great poli-
tical invention, that cities of 100,000
men should have no representatives,
because those representatives were
wanted for political ditches, political
walls, and political parks; that the
people should be bought and sold like
any other commodity ; that a retired
merchant should be able to go into
the market and buy ten shares in the
government of twenty millions of his
fellow-subjects ; yet, can such assever-
ations be made openly before the
people? Wise men, men conversant
with human affairs, may whisper such
theories to each other in retirement;
but can the People ever be taught that
it is right they should be bought and
sold ? Can the vehemence of eloquent
democrats be met with such arguments
and theories ? Can the doubts of
honest and limited men be met by
such arguments and theories? The

P

210

SPEECH AT THE

moment such a government is looked
at by all die people, it is lost It is
impossible to explain, defend, and re-
commend it to the mass of mankind.
And tme enough it is, that as often as
misfortune threatens ns at home, or
hnitation excites ns from abroad, poli-
tical Beform is clamoured for bj the
people — there it stands, and ever will
stand, in the apprehension of the mul-
titude — Reform, the cure of every
evil — Corruption, the source of every
misfortune — famine, defeat, decayed
trade, depressed agriculture, will all
lapse into the question of Reform.
Till that question is set at rest (and it
may be set at rest) all will be disaffec-
tipn, tumult, and perhaps (which God
avert!) destruction.

But democrats and agitators (and
democrats and agitators there are
in the world) will not be contented
with this Reform. Perhaps not, Sir ;
I never hope to content men whose
game is never to be contented — but
if they are not contented, I am sure
their discontent will then compara-
tively be of little importance. I am
afraid of them now ; I have no argu-
ments to answer them : but I shall not
be afraid of them after this Bill, and
would tell them boldly, in the middle
of their mobs, that there was no longer
cause for agitation and excitement, and
that they were intending wickedly to
the people. Tou may depend upon it
such a measure would destroy their
trade, as the repeal of duties would
destroy the trade of the smuggler;
their functions would be carried on
faintly, and with little profit ; you
would soon feel that your position was
stable, solid, and safe.

All would be well, it is urged, if
they would but let the people alone.
But what chance is there, I demand
of these wise politicians, that the
people will ever be let alone ; that
the orator will lay down his craft, and
the demagogue forget his cunning ?
If many things were let alone, which
never will be let alone, the aspect of
human affairs would be a little varied.
If the winds would let the waves alone,
there would be no storms. If gentle-
men would let ladies alone, there

would be no unhappy marriages, and
deserted damsels. If persons who can
reason no better than this, would leave
speaking alone, the school of eloquence
might be improved. I have little
hopes, however, of witnessing any of
these acts of forbearance, particularly
the last, and so we must (however
foolish it may appear) proceed to
make laws for a people who we are
sure will not be let alone.

We might really imagine, from the
objections made to the plan of Reform,
that the great mass of Englishmen
were madmen, robbers, and murderera
The Elingly power is to be destroyed,
the House of Lords is to be annihi-
lated, the Church is to be ruined,
estates are to be confiscated. I am
quite at a loss to find in these perpe-
trators of crimes — in this mass of
pillagers and lunatics — the steady and
respectable tradesmen and farmers,
who' will have votes to confer, and the
steady and respectable country gentle-
men, who will probably have votes to
receive ; — it may be true of the trades-
men of Mauritania, it may be just of
the country gentlemen of Fez — it is
anything but true of the English people.
The English are a tranquil, phlegmatic,
money-loving, money-getting people,
who want to be quiet — and would be
quiet if they were not surrounded by
evils of such magnitude, that it would
be baseness and pusillanimity not to
oppose to them the strongest constitu-
tional resistance.

Then it is said that there is to be a
lack of talent in the new Parliament :
it is to be composed of ordinary and
inferior persons, who will bring the
government of the country into con-
tempt. But the best of all talents,
gentlemen, is to conduct our affairs
honestly, diligently, and economically
— and this talent will, I am sure,
abound as much in the new Parlia-
ment as in many previous Parliaments.
Parliament is not a school for rhetoric
and declamation, where a stranger
would go to hear a speech, as he would
go to the Opera to hear a song ; but
if it were otherwise— -if eloquence be
a necessary ornament o^ and an in-
dispensable adjunct to popular as-

TAUNTON REFORM MEETING.

211

semblies — can it ever be absent from
popular assemblies? I hare always
found that all things, moral or physical,
grow in the soil best suited for them.
Show me a deep and tenacious earth —
and I am sure the oak will spring up
in it. In a low and damp soil I am
equally certain of the alder and the
willow. Gentlemen, the free Parlia-
ment of a free People is the native soil
of eloquence — and in that soil will it
ever flourish and abound — there it will
produce those intellectual effects which
driTe before them whole tribes and na-
tions of the human race, and settle the
destinies of man. And, gentlemen, if
a few persons of a less elegant and
aristocratic description were to become
members of the Honse of Commons,
where would be the eyil ? They would
probably understand the common peo-
ple a great deal better, and in this way
the feelings and interests of all classes
of people would be better represented.
The House of Commons thus organised
will express more faithfully the opinions
of the people.

The people are sometimes, it is nrged,
grossly mistaken; but are Kings never
mistaken ? Are the higher orders never
mistaken? — never wilfully corrupted
by their own interests ? The people
have at least this superiority, that they
always intend to do what is right.

The argument of fear is very easily
disposed of: he who is afraid of a knock
00. the head or & cut on the cheek is a
coward; he who is afraid of entailing
greater evils on the country by refusing
the remedy than by applying it, and
who acts in pursuance of that convic<
tion, is a wise and prudent man —
nothing can be more different than
personal and political fear; it is the
artifice of our opponents to confound
them together.

The right of disfranchisement, gen-
tlemen, must exist somewhere, and
where but in Parliament? If not, how
Was the Scotch Union, how was the
Irish Union, effected? The Duke of
Wellington's Administration disfran-
chised at one blow 200,000 Irish voters
—for no fault of theirs, and for no
other reason than the best of all rea-
B0Q8, that public expediency required

it. These very same politicians are
now looking in an agony of terror at
the disfranchisement of Corporations
containing twenty or thirty persons,
sold to their representatives, who are
themselves perhaps sold to the Govern-
ment: and to put an end to these
enormous abuses is called Corporation
robbery, and there are some persons
wild enough to talk of compensation.
This principle of compensation you
will consider perhaps in the following
instance to have been carried as far as
sound discretion permits. When I was
a young man, the place in England I
remember as most notorious for high-
waymen and their exploits was Finch-
ley Common, near the metropolis; but
Finchley Common, gentlemen, in the
progress of improvement, came to be
enclosed, and liie highwaymen lost by
»these means the opportunity of exer-
cising their gallant vocation. I remem-
ber a friend of mine proposed to draw
up for them a petition to the House of
Commons for compensation, which ran
in this manner — "We, your loyal
highwaymen of Finchley Conmion and
its neighbourhood, having, at great
expense, laid in a stock of blunder-
busses, pistols, and other instruments
for plundering the public, and finding
ourselves impeded in the exercise of
our calling by the said enclosure of
the said Common of Finchley, humbly
petition your Honourable House will
be pleased to assign to us such com-
pensation as your Honourable House
in its wisdom and justice may think
fit." — Gentlemen, I must leave tho
application to you.

An Honourable Baronet says, if Par-
liament is dissolved, I will go to my
Borongh with the bill in my hand, and
will say, ** I know of no crime you have
committed, I found nothing proved
against you: I voted against the biU,
and am come to fling myself upon your
kindness, with the hope that my con-
duct will be approved, and that you
will return me again to Parliament'*
That Honourable Baronet may, per-
haps, receive from his Borough an
answer he little expects — "We are
above being bribed by such a childish
and unworthy artifice ; we do not choose

p 2

212

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.

to consnit our own interest at the ex-
pense of the general peace and happi-
ness of the country; we are thoroughly
convinced a Reform ought to take place ;
we are very willing to sacrifice a privi-
lege we ought never to have possessed
to the good of the community, and we
will return no one to Parliament who
is not deeply impressed with the same
feeling." This, I hope, is the answer
that gentlcmen^will receive; and this,
I hope, will be the noble and generous
feeling of every Borough in England.
The greater part of human improve-
ments, gentlemen, I am sorry to say,
are made after war, tumult, bloodshed,
and civil commotion : mankind seem
to object to every species of gratuitous
happiness, and to consider every ad-
vantage as too cheap, which is not
purchased by some calamity. I shall
esteem it as a singular act of God's<
providence, if this great nation, glided
by these warnings of history, not wait-
ing till tumult for Beform, nor trusting
Beform to the rude hands of the lowest
of the people, shall amend their de-
cayed institutions at a period when
they are ruled by a popular Monarch,
guided by an upright Minister, and
blest with profound peace.

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.
[From the Taunton Courier.'}

Mb. Chairhan, — I am particularly
happy to assist on this occasion, be-
cause I think that the accession of the
present King is a marked and import-
ant era in English history. Another
coronation has taken place since I have
been in the world, but I never assisted
at its celebration. I saw in it a change
of masters, not a change of system. I
did not understand the joy which it
occasioned. I did not feel it, and I did
not counterfeit what I did not feel.

I think very differently of the ac-
cession of his present Majesty. I be-
lieve I see in that accession a great
probability of serious improvement,
and a great increase of public happi-
ness. The evils which have been long
complained of by bold and intelligent

men are now anirersally admitted.
The public feeling, which has been so
often appealed to, is now intensely
excited. The remedies which have so
often been called for are now at last,
vigorously, Mrisely, and faithfully ap-
plied. I admire, gentlemen, in the
present King, his love of peace — I
admire in him his disposition to econ-
omy, and I admire in him, above all,
his faithful and honourable condact to
those who happen to be his ministers.
He was, I believe, quite as faithful to
the Duke of Welling^n as to Lord
Grey, and would, I have no doubt, be
quite as faithful to the political enemies
of Lord Grey (if he thought fit to
employ them) as he is to Lord Grey
himself. There is in this reign no
secret influence, no double ministry —
on whomsoever he confers the office, to
him he gives that confidence without
which the office cannot be holden with
honour, nor executed with effect He
is not only a peaceful King, and an
economical King, but he is an honest
King. So far, I believe, every indi-
vidual of this company will go with
me. There is another topic of ealo-
gium, on which, before I sit down, I
should like to say a few words — I mean
the willingness of our present King to
investigate abuses, and to reform them.
If this subject be not unpleasant, I will
offer upon it a very few observations —
n few, because the subject is exhausted,
and because, if it .were not, I have no
right, from my standing or my situation
in this county, to detain you long upon
that or any other subject.

In criticising this great question of
Beform, I think there is some injustice
done to its authors. Men seem to
suppose that a minister can sit dowa
and make a plan of reform with as
much ease and as much exactness, and
with as complete a gratification of his
own will, as an architect can do in
building or altering a house. But ft
minister of state (it should be in justice
observed) works in the midst of hatred,
injustice, violence, and the worst of
human passions — his works are not
the works of calm and unembarrassed
wisdom — they are not the best that a
dreamer of dreams can imagine. Ici^

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.

213

enough if they are the hest plans which
the passions, parties, and prejudices of
the times in which he acts will permit.
In passing a Reform Bill the minister
overthrows the long and deep interest
which powerful men have in existing
abuses — he subjects himself to the
deepest hatred, and encounters the
bitterest opposition. Auxiliaries he
must have, and auxiliaries he can only
find among the people — not the mob —
bnt the great mass of those who have
opinions worth hearing, and property
worth defending — a greater mass, I
am happy to say, in this country than
exists in any other country on the face
of the earth. Now, before the middling
orders will come forward with one great
impulse, they must see that something
is offered them worth the price of con-
tention ; they must see that the object
is great and the gain serious. If you
call them in at all, it must not be to
displace one faction at the expense of
another, but to put down all factions^-
to substitute purity and principle for
corraption — to give to the many that
political power which the few have un«
justly taken to themselves — to get rid
of evils so ancient and so vast that any
other arm than the public arm would
be lifted np against them in vain.
This, then, I say, is one of the reasons
why ministers have been compelled to
make their measure a little more vigor-
ous and decisive than a speculative
philosopher, sitting in his closet, might
approve of. They had a mass of
opposition to contend with, which could
be'encountered only by a general exer-
tion of public spirit — they had a long
suffering and an often deceived public
to appeal to, who were determined to
suffer no longer, and to be deceived no
more. The idternative was to continue
the ancient abuses, or to do what they
have done — and most firmly do I be-
lieve that you and I, and the latest
posterity of us all, will rejoice in the
decision they have made. Gradation
has been called for in reform : we
might, it is said, have taken thirty or
forty years to have accomplished what
we have done in one year. ** It is not
so much the magnitude of what you
are doing we object to, as the sadden-

»

ness." Bnt was not gradation ten-
dered ? Was it not said by the friends
of reform — ** Give us Birmingham and
Manchester, and we will be satisfied"?
and what was the answer ? ** No
Manchester, no Birmingham, no reform
in any degree — all abuses as they are
— all perversions as we have found
them — the corruptions which our
fathers bequeathed us we will hand
down unimpaired and unpurified to our
children." But I would say to the
graduate philosopher, — "How often
does a reforming minister occur ?" and
if such are so common that you can
command them when you please, how
often does a reforming monarch occur?
and how often does the conjunction of
both occur ? Are you sure that a
people, bursting into new knowledge,
and speculating on every public event,
will wait for your protracted reform ?
Strike while the iron is hot — up with
the arm and down with the hammer,
and up again with the arm, and down
again with the hammer. The iron is
hot — the opportunity exists now — if
you neglect it, it may not return for a
hundred years to come.

There is an argument I have often
heard, a^d that is this — Are we to be
afraid ? — is this measure to be carried
by intimidation ? — is the House of
Lords to be overawed ? But this style
of argument proceeds irom confound-
ing together two sets of feelings which
are entirely distinct — personal fear
and political fear. If I am afraid of
voting against this bill, because a mob
may gather about the House of Lords
— because stones may be flung at my
head — because my house may be at-
tacked by a mob, I am a poltroon, and
unfit to meddle with public afiairs; but
I may rationally be afraid of producing
great public agitation — I may be
honourably afraid of flinging people
into secret clubs and conspiracies — I
may be wisely afraid of making the
aristocracy hateful to the great body. of
the people. This surely has no more
to do with fear than a loose identity of
name ; it is in fact prudenoe of the
highest order ; the deliberate reflection
of a wise man, who does not like what
he is going to do, but likes still less the

p 3

214

SPEECH AT TAUNTON

conseqnences of not doing it, and who
of two eyils chooses the least.

There are some men much afraid of
what is to happen : mj lively hope of
good is, I confess, mingled with very
little apprehension ; but of one thing I
must be candid enough to say that I
am much afraid, and that is of the
opinion now increasing, that the people
are become indifferent to reform ; and
of that opinion I am afraid, because I
believe in an evil hour it may lead some
misguided members of the Upper
House of Parliament to vote against
the 'bill. As for the opinion itself, I
hold it in the utmost contempt The
people are waiting in virtuous patience
for the completion of the bill, because
they know it is in the hands of men
who do not mean to deceive them. I
do not believe they have given up one
atom of reform — I do not believe
that a great people were ever before so
firmly bent upon any one measure. I
put it to any man of common sense,
whether he believes it possible, after
the King and Parliament have acted as
they have done, that the people will
ever be content with much less than
the present bill contains. li a con-
trary principle be acted upon, and the
bill attempted to be got rid of alto-
gether, I confess I tremble for the con-
sequences, which I believe will be of
the worst and most painful description ;
and this I say deliberately, after the
most diligent and extensive inquiry.
Upon that diligent inquiry, I repeat
again my firm conviction; that the de-
sire of reform has increased, not
diminished ; that the present repose is
not indifference, but the calmness of
victory, and the tranquillity of success.
When I see all the wishes and appetites
of created beings changed, when I see
an eagle, that, after long confinement,
has escaped into the air, come back to
his cage and his chain, — when I see
the emancipated negro asking again
for the hoe which has broken down his
strength, and the lash which has tor-
tured his body, I will then, and not till
then, believe that the English people
will return to their ancient degradation
— that they will hold out their repent-
ant hands for those manacles which at

this moment lie broken into links at
their feet.

SPEECH AT TAUNTON.

[From the Taunitm Courier, of October
12th. 1831.3

Thb Ketbrend Stdnet Smith rose
and said: — Mr. Bailiff, I have spoken
so often on this subject, that I am sure
both yon and the gentlemen here pre-
sent will be obliged to me for saying
but little, and that favour I am as will-
ing to confer, as you can be to receive
it. I feel most deeply the event which
has taken place, because, by putting
the two Houses of Parliament in col-
lision with each other, it will impede
the public business, and diminish the
public prosperity. I feel it as a church-
man, because I cannot but blush to see
so many dignitaries of the Church
arrayed against the wishes and happi-
ness of the people. I feel it more than
all, because I believe it will sow the
seeds of deadly hatred between the
aristocracy and the great mass of the
people. The loss of the bill I do not
feel, and for the best of all possible
reasons — because I have not the
slightest idea that it is lost. I have no
more doubt, before the expiration of
the winter, that this bill will pass, than
I have that the annual tax bills will
pass, and greater certainty than this no
man can have, for Franklin tells us,
there are but two things certain in this
world — death and taxes. As for the
possibility of the House of Lords pre-
venting ere long a reform of Parlia-
ment, I hold it to be the most absurd
notion that ever entered into human
imagination. I do not mean to be dis-
respectful, but the attempt of the Lords
to stop the progress of reform, reminds
me very forcibly of the great storm of
Sidmouth, and of the conduct of the
excellent Mrs. Partington on that
occasion. In the winter of 1824, there
set in a great flood upon that town —
the tide rose to an incredible height-—
the waves rushed in upon the houses,
and everything was threatened with
destruction. In the midst of this sub-
lime and terrible storm. Dame Par-
tington, who lived upon die beach, was

SPEECH ON THE REFORM BUX.

215

seen at the door of her house with mop
and pattens, trundling her mop, squeez-
ing out the sea-water, and vigorously
pushing away the Atlantic Ocean.
The Atlantic was roused. Mrs. Par-
tington's spirit was up ; but I need not
tell you that the contest was unequal.
The Atkntic Ocean beat Mrs. Par-
tington. She was exceUent at a slop,
or a puddle, but she should not have
meddled with a tempest. Gentlemen,
be at your ease — be quiet and steady.
You will beat Mrs. Partington.

They tell you, gentlemen, in the de-
bates by which we have been lately
occupied, that the bill is not justified
by experience. I do not think this
trae ; but if it were true, nations are
sometimes compelled to act without
experience for their guide, and to trust
to their own sagacity for the anticipa-
tion of consequences. The instances
where this country has been compelled
thus to act have been so eminently suc-
cessful, that I see no cause for fear,
even if we were acting in the manner
imputed to us by our enemies. What
precedents and what experience were
there at the Reformation, when the
country, with one unanimous effort,
pushed out the Pope, and his grasping
and ambitious clergy? — What ex-
perience, when at the Revolution we
drove away our ancient race of kings,
and chose another family, more con-
genial to our free principles ? — And
yet to those two events, contrary to
experience, and unguided by prece-
dents, we owe all our domestic happi-
ness, and civil and religious freedom —
and having got rid of corrupt priests,
and despotic kings, by our sense and
our courage, are we now to be intimi-
dated by the awful danger of extin-
guishing Boronghmongers, and shaking
from our neck the ignominious yoke
which their baseness has imposed upon
it ? Go on, they say, as you have done
for these hundred years last past. I
answer it is impossi'^le; five hundred
I)eople now write and read, where one
hnndred wrote and read fifty years ago.
The iniquities and enormities of the
borough system are now known to the
meanest of the people. You have a
different sort of men to deal with—

yon must change because the beings
whom you govern are changed. After
all, and to be short, I must say that ir
has always appeared to me to be the
most absolute nonsense that we cannot
be a great, or a rich and happy nation,
without suffering ourselves to be bought
and sold every five years like a pack of
negro slaves. I hope I am not a very
rash man, but I would launch boldly
into this experiment without any fear
of consequences, and I believe there is
not a man here present who would not
cheerfully embark with me. As to the
enemies of the bill, who pretend to be
reformers, I know them, I believe,
better than you do, and I earnestly
caution yon against them. You will
have no more of reform than they are
compelled to grant — you will have no
reform at all, if they can avoid it —
you will be hurried into a war to turn
your attention from reform. They do
not understand you — they will not
believe in the improvement you have
made — they think the English of the
present day are as the English of the
times of Queen Anne or Greorge the
First. They know no more of the
present state of their own country,
than of the state of the Esquimaux
Indians. Gentlemen, 1 view the ignor-
ance of the present state of the country
with the most serious concern, and I
believe they will one day or another
waken into conviction with horror and
dismay. I will omit no means of
rousing them to a sense of their dan-
ger ; — for this object, I cheerfully sign
the petition proposed by Dr. Kinglake,
which I consider to be the wisest and
most moderate of the two.

SPEECH BY
THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH.

Stick to the Bill — it is your Magna
Charta, and your Runnymede. King
John made a present to the Barons.
King William has made a similar
present to you. Never mind ; com-
mon qualities good in common times.
If a man does not vote for the Bill, he
is unclean — the plague-spot is upon
him — push him into the lazaretto of

216

SPEECH ON THE REFOBM BILL.

the last centnrj, with Wetherell and
Sadler — purifj the air before 70a
approach him — bathe your hands in
Chloride of lime, if yon have been
contaminated by his touch.

So far from its being a merely theo-
retical improvement, I put it to any
man, who is himself embarked in a
profession, or has sons in the same
situation, if the unfair influence of
Boronghmongers has not perpetually
thwarted him in his lawful career of
ambition and professional emolument?
** I have been in three general engage-
ments at sea," said an old sailor —
** have been twice wounded ; — I com-
manded the boats when the French
frigate, the Astrolabe, was cut out so
gallantly." **Then you are made a
Post Captain ? *' ** No. I was very
near it; but — Lieutenant Thompson
cut me out, as I cut out the French
frigate ; his father is Town Clerk of

the Borough for which Lord F

is Member, and there my chance was
finished.*' In the same manner, all over
England, you will find great scholars
rotting on curacies — brave captains
starving in garrets — profound lawyers
decayed and mouldering in the Inns of
Court, because the parsons, warriors,
and advocates of Boroughmongers
must be crammed to saturation, belbre
there is a tnorsel of bread for the man
who does not sell his votes, and put his
country up to auction ; and though
this is of every day occurrence, the
Borough system, we are told, is no
practical evil.

Who can bear to walk through a
slaughter-house ? blood, garbage, sto-
machs, entrails, legs, tails, kidneys,
horrors— V I often wiUk a mile about to
avoid it. What a scene of disgust and
horror is an election — the base and
infamous traffic of principles — a can-
didate of high character reduced to
such means — the perjury and evasion
of agents — the detestable rapacity of
voters — the ten days' dominion of
mammon, and Belial. The Bill lessens
it — begins the destruction of such
practices — affords some chance, and
some means of turning public opinion
against bribery^ and of rendering it
infamous.

But the thing I cannot, and will not
bear, is this ; — what right has this Lord,
or tiuU Marquis, to buy ten seats in
Parliament, in the shape of Boroughs,
and then to make laws to govern me ?
And how are these masses of power re-
distributed ? The eldest son of my
Lord is just come from Eton — he
knows a good deal about ^neas and
Dido, Apollo and Daphne — and that
is all ; and to this boy his father gives
a six-hundredth part of the power of
making laws, as he would give him a
horse or a double-barrelled gun. Then
Vellum, the steward, is put in — an
admirable man : — he has raised the
estates — watched the progress of the
family Bead and Canal Bills — and
Vellum shall help to rule over the
people of Israel. A neighbouring
country gentleman, Mr. Plumpkin,
hunts with my lord-— opens him a gate
or two, while the hounds are running
— dines with my Lord — agrees with
my Lord — wishes he could rival the
South-Down sheep of my Lord — and
upon Plumpkin is conferred a portion
of the government. Then there is a
distant relation of the same name, in
the County Militia, with white teeth,
who calls up the carriage at the Opera,
and is always wishing 0*Connell was
hanged, drawn, and quartered — then
a barrister, who has Mrritten an article
in the Quarterly, and is very likely to
speak, and refute M'Culioch ; and these
five people, in whose nomination I have
no more agency than I have in the
nomination of the toll-keepers of the
Bosphorus, are to make laws for me
and my family — to put their hands in
my purse, and to sway the futore
destinies of this country ; and when
the neighbours step in, and beg per-
mission to say a few words before these
persons are chosen, there is an universal
cry of ruin, confusion, and destruction;
— we have become a great people under
Vellum and Plumpkin — under Vellum
and Plumpkin our ships have covered
the ocean — under Vellum and Plump-
kin our armies have secured the
strength of the Hills — to turn ont
Vellum and Plumpkin is not Beform,
but Revolution.

Was there ever such a Ministiy?

SPEECH ON THE REFORM BILL.

217

Was there ever before a real Ministry
of the people ? Look at the condition
of the coantrj when it was placed in
their hands : the state of the house
when the incoming tenant took posses-
sion: windows broken, chimneys on
fire, mobs round the house threatening
to pull it down, roof tumbling, rain
pouring in. It was courage to occupy
it ; it was a miracle to save it ; it will
be the glory of glories to enlarge and
expand it, and to make it the eternal
palace of wise and temperate freedom.
Proper examples have been made
among the unhappy and misguided
disciples of Swing : a rope has been
carried round O^Connell's legs, and a
ring inserted in Gobbett's nose. Then
the Game Laws ! ! ! Was ever conduct
60 shabby as that of the two or three
governments which preceded that of
Lord Grey ? The cruelties and enor-
mities of this code had been thoroughly
exposed; and a general conviction
existed of the necessity of a change.
Bills were brought in by various gen-
tlemen, containing some trifling alte-
ration in this abominable code, and
even these were sacrificed to the tricks
and manoeuvres of some noble Nimrod,
who availed himself of the emptiness
of the town in July, and flung out the
Bill Government never stirred a step.
The fulness of the prisons, the wretch-
edness and demoralisation of the poor,
never came across them. The humane
and considerate Peel never once ofiered
to extend his aegis over them. It had
nothing to do with the state of party ;
and some of their double-barrelled
voters might be offended. In the
meantime, for every ten pheasants
which fluttered in the wood, one En-
glish peasant was rotting in gaol. No
sooner is Lord Althorp Chancellor of
the Exchequer, than he turns out of
the house a trumpery and (perhaps) an
insidious Bill for the improvement of
the Game Laws ; and in an instant
oflers the assistance of Government
for the abolition of the whole code.

Then look at the gigantic Brougham,
sworn in at 12 o'clock, and before 6
has a bill on the table, abolishing the
abuses of a Court which has been the
curse of the people of England for

centuries. For twenty-five long years
did Lord Eldon sit in that Court, sur-
rounded with misery and sorrow, which
he never held up a finger to alleviate.
The widow and the orphan cried to
him as vainly as the town crier cries
when he oflers a small reward for a full
purse ; the bankrupt of the Court be-
came the lunatic of the Court, estates
mouldered away, and mansions fell
down ; but the fees came in, and all
was well. But in an instant the iron
mace of Brougham shivered to atom;)
this house of fraud and of delay ; and
this is the man who will help to govern
you ; who bottoms his reputation on
doing good to you ; who knows, that
to reform abuses is the safest basis of
fame, and the surest instrument of
power ; who uses the highest gifts of
reason, and the most splendid efforts of
genius, to rectify those abuses, which
all the genius and talent of the pro-
fession * have hitherto been employed
to justify, and to protect. Look to
Brougham, and turn you to that side
where he waves his long and lean
finger ; and mark well that face which
nature has marked so forcibly — which
dissolves pensions — turns jobbers into
honest men — scares away ihe plun-
derer of the public — and is a terror
to him who doeth evil to the people.
But, above all, look to the Northern
Earl, victim, before this honest and
manly reign, of the spitefulness of the
Court. You may now, for the first
time, learn to trust in the professions
of a Minister ; you are directed by a
man who prefers character to place,
and who has given such unequivocal
proofs of honesty and patriotism, that
his image ought to be amongst your
household gods, and his name to be
lisped by your children : two thousand
years hence it wUl be a legend like the
fable of Perseus and Andromeda:
Britannia chained to a mountain — two
hundred rotten animals menacing her
destruction, till a tall Earl, armed with
Schedule A., and followed by his page
Russell, drives them into the deep, and
delivers over Britannia in safety to

* Lord Lyndhurst is an exception ; I
firmly beheve ht had no wish to perpetuate
the abuses of the Court of Ohanoery.

218

SPEECH ON THE HEFOBM BILL.

crowds of teii'ponnd renters, who
deafen the air with their acchmiations.
Forthwith, Latin Yerses upon this —
school exercises — boys whipt, and all
the usual absurdities of education.
Don*t part with the Administration
composed of Lord Grey and Lord
Brougham; and not only these, but
look at them all — the mild wisdom of
Lansdowne — the genius and extensive
knowledge of Holland, in whose bold
and honest life there is no varying nor
shadow of change — the unexpected
and exemplary activity of Lord Mel-
bourne — and the rising parliamentary
talents of Stanley. You are ignorant
of your best interests, if every vote you
can bestow is not given to sucn a
ministry as this.

You will soon find an alteration of
behaviour in the upper orders when
elections become real You will find
that you are raised to the importance
to which you ought to be raised. The
merciless ejector, the rural tyrant, will
be restrained within the limits of
decency and humanity, and will im-
prove their own characters, at the
same time that they better your con-
dition:

It is not the power of aristocracy
that will be destroyed by these measures,
but the unfair power. If the Duke of
Newcastle is kind and obliging to his
neighbours, he will probably lead his
neighbours ; if he is a man of sense,
he will lead them more certainly, and
to a better purpose. All . this is as it
should be ; but the Duke of Newcastle,
at present, by buying certain old houses,
could govern his neighbours and legis-
late for them, even if he ^ad not five
grains of understanding, and if he were
the most churlish and brutal man under
heaven. The present state of things
renders unnecessary all those important
virtues, which rich and well-bom men,
under a better system, would exercise
for the public good. The Duke of
Newcastle (I mention him only as an
instance). Lord Exeter will do as well,
but either of those noblemen, depend-
ing not upon walls, arches, and abut-
n^ents, for their power — but upon
paercy, charity, forbearance, indulgence,
and example — would pay this price,

and lead the people by their afiections;
one would be the God of Stamfoi^
and the other of Newark. This union
of the great with the many is the real
healthy state of a country; sach a
country is strong to invincibUity— and
this strength the Borough system en-
tirely destroys.

Cant words creep in, and affect
quarrels; the changes are rung be-
tween Revolution and Beform ; but,
first settle whether a wise government
ought to attempt the measure—whether
anything is wanted — whether less
would do — and, having settled this,
mere nomenclature becomes of very
little consequence. But, after all, if it
be Revolution, and not Reform, it will
only induce me to receive an old poli-
ticsd toast in a twofold meaning, and
with twofold pleasure. When King
William and the great and glorious
Revolution are given, I shall tUnk not
only of escape from bigotry, bat
exemption from corruption ; and I
shall thank Providence, which has
given us a second King William foi!
the destruction of vice, as the other of
that name was given us for the con-
servation of freedom.

All former political changes, pro-
posed by these very men, it is said,
were mild and gentle, compared to
this : true, but are you on iSaturday
night to seize your apothecary by the
throat, and to say to him, *' Subtle
compounder, fraudulent posologist, did
not you order me a drachm of this
medicine on Monday morning, and
now you declare, that nothing short of
an ounce can do me any good ? "
" True enough," would he of the phials
reply, ** but you did not take the drachm
on Monday morning — that makes ail
the difference, my dear Sir; if you had
done as I advised you at first, the small
quantity of medicine would have
sufficed ; and, instead of being in a
night-gown and slippers upstairs, joa
would have been walking vigorously
in Piccadilly. Do as you please — and
die if you please ; but don't blame me
because you despised my advice, and by
your own ignorance and obstinacy have
entailed upon yourself tenfold rhubarb
and unlimited infusion of senna."

SPEECH ON THE REFORM BILL.

219

Now see the conseqaences of having
a manlj' Leader, and a manly Cabinet
Suppose tfaey had come out with a
litUe ill-fashioned seven months' re-
form ; what would have been the con-
seqaence ? The same opposition from
the Tories — that would have been
quite certain — and not a single Re-
former in England satisfied with the
measure. You have now a real Reform,
and a fair share of power delegated to
the people.

The Anti-Reformers cite the in-
creased power of the press — this is the
veiy reason why I want an increased
power in the House of Commons.
The Times, Herald, Advertiser, Globe,
San, Courier, and Chronicle, are a
heptarchy, which govern this country,
and govera it because the people are
so badly represented. I am p^ectly
satisfied, that with a fair and honest
House of Commons the power of the
press would diminish — and that the
greatest authority would centre in the
highest place.

Is it possible for a gentleman to get
into Parliament, at present, without
doing things he is utterly ashamed of
— without mixing himself up with
the lowest and basest of mankind ?
Hands, accustomed to the scented
lubricity of soap, are defiled with
pitch, and contadiinated with filth.
Is there not some inherent vice in a
Government, which cannot be carried
on but with such abominable wicked-
ness, in which no gentleman can
mingle without moral degradation,
and the practice of crimes, the very
imputation of which, on other occa-
sions, he would repel at the hazard of
his life ?

What signifies a small majority in
the House? The miracle is, that
there should have been any majority
at all ; that there was not an immense
majority on the other side. It was a
've^rj long period before the Courts of
Justice in Jersey could put down
smuggling ; and why ? The Judges,
Counsel, Attorneys, Crier of the Court,
Grand and Petty Jurymen, were all
smugglers, and the High Sheriff and
Constables were running goods every
moonlight night

How are you to do without a go-
vernment ? And what other govern-
ment, if this Bill be ultimately lost,
could possibly be found ? How could
any country defray the ruinous ex-
pense of protecting, with troops and
constables, the Duke of Wellington
and Sir Robert Peel, who literally
would not be able to walk irom the
Horse Guards to Grosvenor Square,
without two or three regiments of foot
to screen^hem from the mob ; and in
these hAow squares the Hero of
Waterloo would have to spend his
political life ? By the whole exercise
of his splendid military talents, by
strong batteries, at Bootless and
White's, he might, on nights of great
debate, reach the House of Lords;
but Sir Robert would probably be cut
ofi^, and nothing- could save Twiss and
Lewis.

The great majority of persons re-
turned by the new Boroughs would
either be men of high reputation for
talents, or persons of fortune known in
the neighbourhood ; they have pro-
perty and character to lose. Why are
they to plunge into mad and revolu-
tionary projects of pillaging the public
creditor ? It is not the interest of any
such man to do it; he would lose
more by the destruction of public
credit than he would gain by a remis-
sion of what he paid for the interest
of the public debt And if it is not
the interest of any one to act in this
manner, it is not the interest of the
mass. How many, also, of these new
legislators would there be, who were
not themselves creditors of the State ?
Is it the interest of such men to create
a revolution, by destroying the consti-
tutional power of the House of Lords,
or of the King ? Does there exist in
persons of that class any disposition
for such changes ? Are not all their
feelings, and opinions, and prejudices,
on the opposite side?" The majority
of the new members will be landed
gentlemen : their genus is utterly dis
tinct from the revolutionary tribe;
they have Molar teeth ; they are des-
titute of the carnivorous and incisive
jaws of political adventurers.

There will be mistakes at first, aia

220

SPEECH ON THE REFORM BILL.

there are in all changes. All young
Ladies will imagine (as soon as this
Bill is carried) that they will be in-
stantly married. Schoolboys believe
that Gerunds and Supines will be
abolished, and that Currant Tarts
must nltioiately come down in price ;
the Corporal and Sergeant are sure of
double pay ; bad Poets will expect a
demand for their Epics ; Fools will be
disappointed, as they always are;
reasonable men, who know what to
expect, will find that a yeify serious
good has been obtained.

What good to the hewer of wood
and the drawer of water ? How is he
benefited, if Old Sarum is abolished
and Birmingham Members created?
But if you ask this question of Reform,
you must ask it of a great number of
other great measures? How is he
benefited by Catholic Emancipation,
by the repeal of the Corporation and
Test Act, by the Revolution of 1688,
by any great political change? by a
good government ? In the first place,
if many are benefited, and the lower
orders are not injured, this alone is
reason enough for the change. But
the hewer of wood and the drawer of
water are benefited by reform. Re-
form will produce economy and inves-
tigation ; there will be fewer jobs, and
a less lavish expenditure; wars will
not be persevered in for years after the
people are tired of them ; taxes will
be taken off the poor, and laid upon
the rich ; demotic habits will be more
common in a country where the rich are
forced to court the poor for political
power; cruel and oppressive punish-
ments (such as those for night poach*
ing) will be abolished. If you steal a
pheasant you will be punished as you
ought to be, but not sent away from
your wife and children for seven years.
Tobacco will be 2d, per lb. cheaper.
Candles will fall in price. These last
results of an improved government will
be felt, -We do not pretend to abolish
poverty, or to prevent wretchedness ;
but if peace, economy, and justice, are
the results of Reform, a number of
small benefits, or rather of benefits
which appear small to us, but not to
them, will accrue to millions of the

people ; and the connection between the
existence of John RnsselU and the re-
duced price of bread and cheese, will
be as clear as it has been the object
of his honest, wise, and useful life to
make it

Don't be led away by such nonsense;
all things are dearer under a bad
government, and cheaper under a
good one. The real question they
ask you is, What difference can any
change of government make to you ?
They want to keep the bees from
buzzing and stinging, in order that
they may rob the hive in peace.

Work well I How does it work well,
when every human being in-doors
and out (with the exception of the
Duke of Wellington) says it mnst be
made to work better, or it will soon
cease to work at all ? It is little short
of absolute nonsense to call a govern-
ment good, which the great mass of
Englishmen would, before twenty
years were elapsed, if Reform were
denied, rise up and destroy. Of what
use have all the cruel laws been of
Perceval, Eldon, and Castlereagh, to
extinguish Reform ? Lord John Rus-
sell, and his abettors, would have been
committed to gaol twenty years ago
for half only of his present Reform ;
and now relays of the people would
drag them from London to Edinburgh ;
at which latter city we are told, by
Mr. Dun das, that there is no eager-
ness for Refonn. Five minutes before
Moses struck the rock, this gentleman
would have said that there was no
eagerness for water.

There are two methods of making
alterations : the one is to despise the
applicants, to begin with refusing
every concession, then to relax by
making concessions which are always
too late; by offering in 1831 what is
then too late, but would have been
cheerfully accepted in 1830 — gra-
dually to 6*Connellise the country,
till at last, after this process has gone
on for some time, the alarm becomes
too great, and everything is conceded
in hurry and confusion. In the mean-
time fri'sh conspiracies have been
hatched by the long delay, and no
gratitude is expressed for what has

SPEECH ON THE REFORM BILL.

221

been extorted by fear. In this way
peace was concladed with America,
and Emancipation granted to the
Catholics; and in this way the war
of complexion will be finished in the
West Indies. The other method is, to
see at a distance that the thing must
be done, and to do it efiectnally, and
at once ; to take it out of the hands of
the common people, and to carry the
measure in a manly liberal manner, so
as to satisfy the great majority. The
merit of this belongs to the Adminis-
tration of Lord Grey. He is the only
Minister I know of who has begun a
great measure in good time, conceded
at the beginning of twenty years what
would have been extorted at the end
of it, and prevented that folly, vio-
lence, and ignorance, which emanate
from a long denial and extorted con-
cession of justice to great masses of
human beings. I believe the question of
Reform, or any dangerous agitation of
it, is set at rest for thirty or forty years ;
and this is an eternity in politics.

Boroughs are not the power pro-
ceeding irom wealth. Many men who
have no Boroughs are infinitely richer
than those who have — but it is the
artifice of wealth in seizing hold of
certain localities. The Boroughmon-
ger is like rheumatism, which owes its
power not so much to the intensity of
the pain as to its peculiar position ; a
little higher bp, or a little lower down,
the same pain would be trifling ; but it
fixes in the joints, and gets into the
head-quarters of motion and activity.
The Boroughmonger knows the im-
portance of arthritic positions; he
disdains muscle, gets into the joints,
and lords it over the whole machine
by felicity of place. Other men are as
rich — but those riches are not fixed in
the critical spot.

I live a good deal with all ranks and
descriptions of people ; I am thoroughly
convinced that the party of Democrats
and Republicans is very small and
contemptible ; that the English love
their institutions — that they love not
only this King, (who would not love
hhn ?) but the kingly office — that
they have no hatred to the Aristocracy.
I am not afraid of trusting English

happiness to English €rentlemcn. I
believe that the half million of new
voters will choose much better for the
public, than the twenty or thirty
Peers, to whose usurped power they
succeed.

If any man doubt of the power of
Reform, let him take these two memo*
rable proofs of its omnipotence. First,
but for the declaration against it, I
believe the Duke of Wellington might
this day have been in office ; and,
secondly, in the whole course of the
debates at County Meetings and in
Parliament, there are not twenty men
who have declared against Reform.
Some advance an inch, some a foot,
some a yard — but nobody stands still
— nobody says. We ought to remain
just where we were — everybody dis-
covers that he is a Reformer, and has
long been so — and appears infinitely
delighted with this new view of him-
self. Nobody appears without the
cockade — bigger or less — but always
the cockade.

An exact and elaborate census is
called for — vast information should
have been laid upon the table of the
House — great time should have been
given for deliberation. All these ob-
jections, being tamed into English,
simply mean, that the chances of
another year should have been given
for defeating the Bill. In that time
the Poles may be crushed, the Bel-
gians organised, Louis Philippe de-
throned; war may rage all over
Europ>e — the popular spirit may be
diverted to other objects. It is cer-
tainly provoking that the Ministry
foresaw all these possibilities and de-
termined to model the iron while it was
red and glowing.

It is not enough that a political in-
stitution works well practicMlly : it
must be defensible ; it must be such as
will bear discussion, and not excite
ridicule and contempt It might work
well for aught I know, if, like the
savages of Onelashka, we sent out to
catch a king : but who could defend a
coronation by chase ? who can defend
the payment of 40,000/. for the three-
hundredth part of the power of ParUa-
menty and the resale of this power to

222

SPEECH OK THE REFORM BILL.

Goyernment for places to the Lord
Williams and Lord Charles's, and
others of the Anglophagi ? Teach a
million of the common people to read
— and such a goyernment (work it
eyer so well) most perish in twenty
years. It is impossible to persuade the
mass of mankind that there are not
other and better methods of goyeming
a country. It is so complicated, so
wicked, such envy and hatred accumu-
late against the gentlemen who haye
fixed themselyes on the joints, that it
cannot fail to perish, and to be driven,
as it w driven, from the country by a
general bunt of hatred and detestation.
I meant, gentlemen, to have spoken
for another half hour, but I am old
and tired. Thank me for ending —
but, gentlemen, bear with me for
another moment; one word before I
end. I am old, but I thank God I
have lived to see more than my obser-
vations on human nature taught me I
had any right to expect. I have lived

to see an honest King, in whose word
his Ministers can trust ; who disdains
to deceive those men whom he has
called to the public service, but makes
common cause with them for the com-
mon good ; and exercises the highest
powers of a ruler for the dearest
interests of the State. I have lived to
see a King with a good heart, who,
surrounded by Kobles, thinks of com-
mon men ; who loves the great mass
of English people,' and wishes to be
loved by them ; who knows that his
real power, as he feels that his happi-
ness, is founded on their affection. I
have lived to see a King, who, without
pretending to the. pomp of superior
intellect, has the wisdom to see, that
the decayed institutions of human
policy require amendment ; and who,
in spite of clamour, interest, prejudice,
and fear, has the manliness to carry
these wise changes into immediate
execution. Gentlemen, farewell : shoot
for the King.

223

LETTER TO THE ELECTORS

UPON

THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

Wht is not a Catholic to be belieyed
on his oath ?

What sajB the law of the land to this
extravagant piece of injustice ? It is
no challenge against a jnr jman, to say
be is a Catholic ; he sits in judgment
upon your life and your property. Did
any man ever hear it said that such or
rach a person was put to death, or that
he lost his property, because a Catholic
was among the jurymen ? Is the ques-
tion ever put ? Does it ever enter into
the mind of the attorney or the coun-
sellor to inquire of the faith of the jury ?
If a man sell a horse, or a house, or a
field, does he ask if the purchaser be a
Catholic ? Appeal to your own expe-
rience, and try by that fairest of all
tests — the justice of this enormous
charge.

We are in treaty, with many of the
powers of Europe, because we believe
in the good faith of Catholics. Two-
thirds of Europe are, in fact, Catholics;
we they all perjnred ? For the first
fourteen centuries all the Christian
^orld were Catholics; did they live in
ft constant state of perjury ? I am sure
these objections against the Catholics
*re often made by very serious and
honest men, but I much doubt if Vol-
taire has advanced anything against
the Christian religion so horrible as to
say that two-thirds of those who profess
it are unfit for all the purposes of civil
hfe; for who is fit to live in society who

does not respect oaths? But if this
imputation be true, what folly to agitate
such questions as the civil emancipation
of the Catholics I If they are always
ready to support falsehood by an ap-
peal to God, why are they suffered to
breathe the air of England, or to drink
of the waters of England ? Why are
they not driven into the howling wiU
demess? But now they possess, and
bequeath, and witness, and decide civil
rights ; and save life as physicians, and
defend property as lawyers, and judge
property as jurymen ; and yon pass
laws enabling them to command all
your fleets and armies *, and then you
turn round upon the very man whom
you have made the master of the Euro-
pean seas, and the arbiter of nations,
and tell him he is not to be belieyed
on his oath.

I have lived a little in the world, but
I never happened to hear a single Ca-
tholic even suspected of getting into
office by violating his oath $ the oath
which they are accused of violating is
an insuperable barrier to them alL Is
there a more disgraceful spectacle in
the world than that of the Duke of
Norfolk hovering round the House of
Lords in the execution of his office,
which he cannot enter as a peer of the
realm ? disgraceful to the bigotry and

* There is no law to prevent a Catholic
from having the command of a British fleet
or a British army.

224

LETTER TO THE ELECTORS,

injustice of his country — to his own
sense of duty, honourable in the ex-
. treme : he is the leader of a band of
ancient and high-principled gentlemen,
who submit patiently to obscurity and
privation, rather ttuin do yiolence to
their cdnscience. In all the fury of
party, I never heard the name of a
single Catholic mentioned, who was
suspected of having gained, or aimed
at, any political advantage, by violat-
ing his oath. I have never heard so
bitter a slander supported by the
slightest proof. Every man in the
circle of his acquaintance has met with
Catholics, and lived with them pro-
bably as companions. If this immoral
lubricity were their characteristic, it
would surely be perceived in common
life. Every man's experience would
corroborate the imputation ; but I can
honestly say that some of the best and
most excellent men I have ever met
with have been Catholics; perfectly
alive to the evil and inconvenience of
their situation, but thinking themselves
bound by the law of God and the law
of honour, not to avoid persecution by
falsehood and apostasy. But why (as
has been asked ten thousand times be-
fore) do you lay such a stress upon
these oaths of exclusion, if the Catho-
lics do not respect oaths ? You com-
pel me, a Catholic, to make a declara-
tion against transubstantiation, for what
purpose but to keep me out of Parlia-
ment ? Why, then, I respect oaths
and declarations, or else I should per-
jure myself, and get into Parliament ;
and if I do not respect oaths, of what
use is it to enact them in order to keep
me out ? A farmer has some sheep,
which he chooses to keep from a certain
field, and to effect this object, he builds
a wall : there are two objections to his
proceeding ; the first is, that it is for
the good of the farm that the sheep
should come into the field ; and so the
wall is not only useless, but pernicious.
The second is, that he himself tho-
roughly believes at the time of build-
ing the wall, that all the sheep are in
the constant habit of leaping over such
walls. His first intention with respect
to the sheep is absurd, his means more
absurd, and his error is perfect in all

its parts. He tries to do that which,
if he succeed, will be very foolish, and
tries to do it by means which he him-
self, at the time of using them, admits
to be inadequate to the purpose : but
I hope this objection to the oaths of
Catholics is disappearing; I believe
neither Lord Liverpool, nor Mr. Peel
(a very candid and honourable man),
nor the Archbishops (who are both
gentlemen), nor Lord Eldon, nor Lord
Stowell (whose Protestantism nobody
calls in question), would make such a
charge. It is confined to provincial
violence, and to the politicians of the
second table. I remember hearing the
Catholics from the hustings of an elec-
tion accused of disregarding oaths, and
within an hour from that time, I saw
five Catholic voters rejected, because
they would not take the oath of supre-
macy ; and these were not men of rank
who tendered themselves, but ordinary
tradesmen. The accusation was re-
ceived with loud huzzas ; the poor Ca-
tholics retired unobserved and in si-
lence. No one praised the conscientious
feelings of the constituents; no one
rebuked the calumny of the candidate.
This is precisely the way in which the
Catholics are treated : the very same
man who encourages among his parti-
sans the doctrine, that Catholics are
not to be believed upon their oaths,
directs his agents upon the hustings to
be very watchful that all Catholics
should be prevented from TOting, by
tendering to them the oath of supre-
macy, which he is certain not one of
them will take. If this be not calumny
and injustice, I know not what human
conduct can deserve the name.

If you believe the oath of a Catho-
lic, see what he will swear, and what
he will not swear : read the oaths he
already takes, and say whether in com-
mon candour, or in common sense, you
can require more security than he offers
you. Before the year 1793, the Catholic
was subject to many more vexatious
laws than he now is ; in that year an
act passed in his favour; but before
the Catholic could exempt himself fix>m
his ancient pains and penalties, it was
necessary to take an oath. This oath
was, I believe, drawn up by Dr. Dui-

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

225

genan, the bitter and implacable enemy
of the sect ; and it is so important an
oath, so little known and read in
England, that I cannot, in spite of
my wish to be brief, abstain from
quoting it. I deny your right to call
No Popery, till yoa are master of
its contents.

** I do swear that I do abjure, con-
demn, and detest, as unchristian and
impious, the principle, that it is lawful
to murder, destroy, or any ways injure,
any person whatsoever, for or under
the pretext of being a heretic ; and I
do declare solemnly, before God, that
I believe no act, in itself unjust, im-
moral, or wicked, can ever be justified
or excused by or under pretence or
colour, that it was done either for the
good of the Church, or in obedience to
any ecclesiastical power whatsoever.
I also declare that it is not an article
of the Catholic faith, neither am I
thereby required to believe or profess,
that the Pope is infallible ; or that I
am bound to obey any order, in its
own nature immoral, though the Pope,
or any ecclesiastical power, should issue
or direct such order ; but, on the con-
trary, I hold that it would be sinful in
me to pay any respect or obedience
thereto. I further declare, that I do
not believe that any sin whatsoever
committed by me, can be forgiven at
the mere will of any pope or any priest,
or of any persons whatsoever ; but that
sincere sorrow for past sins, a firm and
sincere resolution to avoid future guilt,
and to atone to God, are previous and
indispensable requisites to establish a
well-founded expectation of forgive-
ness ; and that any person who receives
absolution, without these previous re-
quisites, so far from obtaining thereby
any remission of his sins, incurs the
additional guilt of violating a sacra-
ment: and I do swear, that I will de-
fend, to the utmost of my power, the
settlement and arrangement of pro-
perty in this country, as established by
the laws now in being. — I do hereby
disclaim, disavow, and solemnly abjure
any intention to subvert the present
Church establishment, for the purpa^e
of substituting a Catholic establishment
in its stead ; and I do solemnly swear,

voL.n.

that I will not exercise any privilege to
which I am or may become entitled, to
disturb and weaken the Protestant re-
ligion, and Protestant government, in
this kingdom. So help me God.*'

This Oath is taken by every Catholic
in Ireland, and a similar oath, allowing
for the difference of circumstances of
the two countries, is taken in Eng-
land.

It appears from the evidence taken
before the two Houses, and lately
printed, that if Catholic emancipation
were carried, there would be little or
no difficulty in obtaining from the
Pope an agreement, that the nomina-
tion of the Irish Catholic Bishops
should be made at home constitution-
ally by the Catholics, as it is now in
fact*, and in practice, and that the
Irish prelates would go a great way,
in arranging a system of general edu-
cation, if the spirit of proselytism,
which now renders such a union im-
possible, were laid aside. This great
measure carried, the Irish Catholics
would give up all their endowments
abroad, if they received for them an
equivalent at home ; for now Irish
priests are fast resorting to the Conti-
nent for education, allured by the en-
dowments which the French govern-
ment are cunningly restoring and aug-
menting. The intercourse with the
see of Rome might and would, after
Catholic emancipation, be so managed,
that it should be open, upon grave oc-
casions, or, if thought proper, on every
occasion, to the inspection of commis-
sioners. There is no security, compa-
tible with the safety of their faith, which
the Catholics are not willing to give.
But what is Catholic emancipation as
far as England is concerned ? not an
equal right of office with the member
of the Church of England, but a par-
ticipation in the same pains and penal-
ties as those to which the Protestant
dissenter is subjected by the Corpora-
tion and Test Acts. If the utility of
these last-mentioned laws is to be mea-

* The Catholic Bishops, since the death
of the Pretender, are recommonded either
by the chapters or the parochial clci^, to
the Pope ; and there is no instance or his
deviating fh>m their choice,

Q

LKTTEB TO THE ELECTOBS^

22«

sored by the horror and perturbation
their repeal would excite, they are laws
of the ntmost importance to the defence
of the English Chorch ; but if it be of
importance to the Chnrch that pains
and penalties should be thos kept sos-
pended OYcr men's heads, then these
bills are an effectual security against
Catholics as well as IVotestants : and
the manacles so much confided in, are
not taken off, but loosened, and the
prayer of a Catholic is this : — ** I can-
not now become an alderman, ^thout
perjury. I pray of you to improve my
condition so far, that if I become an
alderman, I may be only exposed to a
penalty of 500^" There are two conip
mon errors upon the subject of Catholic
emancipation $ the one, that the eman-
cipated Catholic is to be put on a better
footing than the Protestant dissenter,
whereas he will be put precisely on the
same footing ; the other, that he is to
be admitted to civil offices, without any
guard, exception, or reserve, whereas
in the various bills which have been
from time to time brought forward, the
legal wit of man has been exhausted to
provide against every surmise, suspi-
cion, and whisper of the most remote
danger to the Protestant Church.

The Catholic question is not an En-
glish question, but an Irish one; or
rather, it is no otherwise an English
question than as it is an Irish one. As
for the handful of Catholics that are in
England, no one, I presume, can be so
extravagant as to contend, if they were
the only Catholics we had to do with,
that it would be of the slightest pos-
sible consequence to what offices of
the state they were admitted. It would
be quite as necessary to exclude the
Sandemanians, who are sixteen in
number, or to make a test act against
the followers of Joanna Southcote, who
amount to one hundred and twenty
persons. A little chalk on the wall
and a profound ignorance of the sub-
ject, soon raises a cry of No Popery;
but I question if the danger of admit-
ting five popish Peers and two C6m-
moners to the benefits of the constitu-
tion could raise a mob in any market
town in England. Whatever good
may accrue to England from the eman-

cipation, or evil may befall this country
for withholding emancipation, will
reach us <mljf through the medium of
Ireland.

I beg to remind yon, that in talking
of the Catholic religion, you must talk
of the Catholic religion as it is carried
on in Ireland; you have nothing to do
with Spain, or France, or Italy : the
religion you are to examine is the Irish
Catholic religion. You are not to
consider what it was, but what it is:
not what individuals profess, but what
is generaUy professed, not what indi-
viduals do, but what is generally
practised. I constantly see, in adver-
tisements from county meetings, sll
these species of monstrous injustice
played off against the Catholics. The
inquisition exists in Spain and Portu-
gal, therefore I confound place, and
vote against the Catholics of Ireland,
where it never did exist, nor was pur-
posed to be instituted.* There ha?e
been many cruel persecutions of Pro-
testants by Catholic governments; and,
therefore, I will confound time and
place, and vote against the Irish, who
live centuries after these persecution^,
and in a totally different country.
Doctor this, or Doctor that, of the
Catholic Church, has written a very
violent and absurd pamphlet; therefore
I will confound persons, and vote
against the whole Irish Cathob'c
Chnrch, which has neither sanctioned
nor expressed any such opinions. I
will continue the incapacities of men
of this age, because some men, in dis-
tant ages, deserved ill of other men in
distant ages. They shall expiate the
crimes committed, before they were
bom, in a land they never saw; br
individuals they never heard of. I will
charge them with every act of folly
which they have never sanctioned and
cannot control. I will sacrifice space,
time, and identity, to my zeal for the
Protestant Church. Now, in the midst of
all this violence, consider, for a moment,
how you are imposed upon by words,

* While Kary was burning Protestants in
England, not a single Protestant was eze*
cuted in Ireland: and yet the terrors of
that reign are, at tlua moment^ one of the
most operative causes of the exclusioa of
Irish Catholics.

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

227

and what a seriona Tiolation of the
rights of yoar fellow-creatures yon are
committing. Mr. Murphy Uvea in
Limerick, and Mr. Murphy and his
Bon are subjected to a thousand incon-
veDiences and disadYantages, because
they are Catholics. Murphy is a
wealthy, honourable, excellent man;
he ought to be in the corporation ; he
cannot get in because he ia a Catholic.
His son ought to be king's counsel fdr
his talents, and his standing at the bar;
he is prevented from reaching this dig-
nity, because he is a Catholic Why,
what reasons do you hear for all this?
Because Queen Mary, three hundred
years before the natal day of Mr.
Murphy, murdered Protestants in
Smithfield ; because Louis XIV. dra-
gooned his Protestant subjects, when
the predecessor of Murphy's predecessor
was not in being; because men are
confined in prison in Madrid, twelve
degrees more south than Murphy has
ever been in his life ; all ages, all cli-
mates, are ransacked to perpetuate the
slavery of Murphy, the ill-fated victim
of political anachronisms.
- Suppose a banister, in defending a
prisoner, were to say to the judge,
"My Lord, I humbly sulmiit to your
lordship that this indictment against
the prisoner cannot stand good in law;
and as the safety of a fellow-creature
is concerned, I request your Lordship's
patient attention to my objections. In
the first place, the indictment does not
pretend that the prisoner at the bar is
himself guilty of the offence, but that
some persons of the same religious sect
as himself are so; in whose crime he
cannot (I submit) by any possibility be
implicated, as these criminal persons
lived three hundred years before the
prisoner was bom. In the next place,
my Lord, the vsHue of several crimes
imputed to the prisoner is laid in coun-
tries to which the jurisdiction of this
court does not extend ; in France,
Spain, and Italy, where also the pri-
soner has never been : and as to the
argument used by my learned brother,
that it is only want of power, and not
want of will, and that the prisoner
^^ottU commit the crime if he could; I
humbly submit that the custom of

England has been to wait for the overt
act before pain and penalty are inflicted,
and that your Lordship would pass a
most doleful assize, if punishment de-
pended upon evil volition; if men were
subjected to legal incapacities from the
mere suspicion that they would do harm
if they could} and if it were admitted
to be sufficient proof of this suspicion,
that men of this faith in distant ages,
different countries, and under different
circumstances, had planned evil, and,
when occasion offered, done it"

When are mercy and justice, in fact,
ever to return upon the earth, if the
sins of the elders are to be for ever
visited on these who are not even their
children ? Should the first act of
liberated Greece be to recommence the
Trojan war ? Are the French never
to forget the Sicilian vespers ; or the
Americans the long war waged against
their liberties ? Is any rule wise, which
may set the Irish to recollect what they
have suffered ?

The real danger is this — that you
have four Irish Catholics for one Irish
Protestant. That is the matter of fact,
which none of us can help. Is it better
policy to make friends, rather than
enemies, of this immense population ?
I allow there is danger to the Protes-'
tant Church, but much more danger, I
am sure there is, in resisting than ad-
mitting the claims of the Catholics. If
I might indulge in visions of glory,
and imagine myself an Irish dean or
bishop, with an immense ecclesiastical
income ; if the justice or injustice of
the case were entirely indifferent to
me, and my only object were to live at
ease in my possessions, there is no mea'
sure for which I should be so anxious as
that of Catholic emancipation. The
Catholics are now extremely angry and
discontented at being shut out from so
many offices and honours: the incapa-
cities to which they are subjected
thwart them in all their pursuits: they
feel they are a degraded caste. The
Protestant feels he is a privileged
caste, and not only the Protestant
gentleman feels this, but every Pro-
testant servant feels it, and takes care
that his Catholic fellow-servant shall
perceive it The difference Wween

Q 2

LETTER TO THE ELECTORS,

228

the two religioiu is an eternal sotirce
pf enmity, ill-will, and hatred, and the
Catholic remains in a state of perma-
nent disaffection to the govem'taiient
under which he liyes. I repeat that if
I were a member of the Irish Chnrcb,
I should be afraid of this position of
affairs^ I should fear it in peace, on
account of riot and insurrection, and
in war, on account of rebellion. I
should think that my greatest security
consisted in removing all just cause of
complaint from the Catholic society,
in endearing them to the English con-
stitution, by making them feel, as soon
as possible, that they shared in its
blessings. I should really think my
tithes and my glebe, upon such a plan,
worth twenty years' purchase more
than under the present system. Sup-
pose the Catholic lajrman were to think
it an evil, that his own church should
be less splendidly endowed than that
of the Protestant Church, whose popu-
lation is so inferior; yet if he were free
himself, and had nothing to complain
o^ he would not rush into rebellion
and insurrection, merely to augment
the income of his priest. At present
you' bind the laity and clergy in one
common feeling of injustice ; each
Teels for himself, and talks of the inju-
ries of the other. The obvious conse-
quence of Catholic emancipation would
be to separate their interests. But
another important consequeilce of Ca-
tholic emancipation would be to im-
prove the condition of the clergy.
Their chapels would be put in order,
their incomes increased, and we should
soon hear nothing more of the Catholic
Church. If this measure were carried
in March, I believe by the January
following, the whole question would be
as completely forgotten as the sweating
sickness, and that nine Doctor Doyles,
at the rate of thirty years to a Doyle,
would pass away one after the other,
before any human being heard another
syllable on the subject. All men gra-
dually yield to the comforts of a good
income. Gire the Irish archbishop
1200/. per annum ; the bishop 800/.,
the priest 200/., the coadjutor lOOL

of York.* This is the real secret of
putting an end to the Catholic qnes-'
tion ; there is no other ; bitt, remember^
I am speaking of provision for the Ca-
tholic clergy after emancipation, not
before. There is not an Lish clergy-
man of the Church of Rome who woidd
touch one penny of the public money
before the laity were restored to civil
rights, and why not pay the Catholic
dergy as well as the Presbyterian
clergy? Ever since the year 1803, the
Presbyterian clergy in the North of
Ireland have been paid by the govern-
ment, and the grant is annually brought
forward in parliament ; and not only
are the Presbyterians paid, but one or
two other species of Protestant Dissen*
tern. The consequence has been loy-
alty and peace. This way of appeasing
Dissenters you may call expensive,
but is there no expense in injustice?
Tou have at this moment an army of
20,000 men in Ireland, horse, foot, and
artillery, at an annual expense of a
million and a half of money ; about
one third of this sum would be the
expense of the allowance to the Catho-
lic clergy ; and this army is so neces-^
sary, that the government dare not at
this moment remove a single regiment
from Ireland. Abolish Uiese absurd
and disgraceful distinctions, and a few
troops of horse, to help the constables
on fair days, will be more than suffi-
cient for the Catholic limb of the em-
pire.

Now for a very few of the shameful
misrepresentations circulated respect-
ing the Irish Catholics, for I repeat
again that we have nothing to do with

* I say o^moa^, because I bate to overstate
an arffument, and it is impossible to deny
that tnere is dangrar to a Church, to wbien
seven millions contribute large^, and in
which six miUioiis disbelieve : my argument
merely is, that such a Church would be
more safe in proportion as it interfisred less
with the comforts and ease of its natural
enemies, and rendered their position more
desirable and agreeable. I nrmly beUeve
the Tpleration Act to bequite as oondudve
to the securily of the Church of Bnghmd
as it is to the Dissenters. Perfect tolera-
tion, and the abolition of every incapad^
as a consequence of religious opinions, is

not, what is commonly ouled, a receipt fear

per «!■„«„. and the Cathedral of D„b- ^"^'S'A^pL^^^'^iS*
un IS almost as safe as the Cathedral has the real good sense to adopt it.

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

22d

Spanish or Italian, but with Irish Ca-
tholics: it is not tme that the Irish
Catholics refuse to circulate the Bible
in English ; on the contrary, they have
in Ireland circulated several editions of
the Scriptures in English. In the last
year, the Catholic prelates prepared
and put forth a stereotype edition of
the Bible, of a small prin( and low
price, to insure its general circulation.
They circulate the Bible with 'their
own notes, and how, as Catholics, can
they act otherwise? Are not our pre-
lates and Bartlett's Buildings acting in
the same manner ? And must not all
Churches, if they are consistent, act in
the same manner? The Bibles Catho-
lics quarrel with, are Protestant Bibles
without notes, or Protestant Bibles with
Protestant notes, and how can they do
otherwise without giving up their
religion ? They deny, upon oath, that
the infallibility of the Pope is any
necessary part of the Catholic faith.
They, upon oath, declare that Catholic
people are forbidden to worship images,
and saints, and relics. They, upon
oath, abjure the temporal power of the
Pope, or his right to absolve any Ca-
tholic from his oath. They renounce,
npon oath, all right to forfeited lands,
and covenant, upon oath, not to de-
stroy or plot against the Irish Pro-
testant Church. What more can any
man want, whom anything will con-
tent?

Some people talk as if they were
quite teased and worried by the eternal
clamours of the Catholics ; but if you
are eternally unjust, can you expect
anything more than to be eternally
vexed by the victims of your injustice?
You want all the luxury of oppression,
without any of its inconyenience. I
should think the Catholics very much
to blame, if they ever ceased to impor-
tune the legislature for justice, so long
as they coiUd find one single member
of parliament who would advocate
their cause.

The putting the matter to rest by an
effort of the county of York, or by any
decision of parliament against them, is
Htterly hopeless. Every year increases
the Catholic population, and the Ca-
tholic wealthy and the Catholic claims,

till yon are caught in one of those
political attitudes to which all countries
are occasionally exposed, in which you
are utterly helpless, and must give
way to their claims : and if you do it
then, you will do it badly; you may
call it an arrangement, but arrange-
ments made at such times are much
like the bargains between a highway-
man and a ti*aveller, a pistol on one
side, and a purse on the. other : the
rapid scramble of armed violence, and
the unqualified surrender of helpless
timidity. If you think the thing must
be done at some time or another^ do it
when you are calm and powerful, and
when you need not do it.

There are a set of high-spirited men
who are very much afraid of being
afraid ; who cannot brook the idea of
doing anything from fear, and whose
conversation is full of fire and sword,
when any apprehension of resistance is
alluded ta I have a perfect confidence
in the high and unyielding spirit, and
in the military courage of the English;
and I have no doubt, but that many of
the country gentlemen who now call
out No Popery, would fearlessly put
themselves at the head of their em-
battled yeomanry, to control the Irish
Catholics. My objection to such
courage is, that it would certainly be
exercised unjustly, and probably exer-
cised in vain. I should deprecate any
rising of the Catholics as the most
grievous misfortune which could hap-
pen to the empire and to themselves.
They had far better endure all they do
endure, and a great deal worse, than
.try the experiment. But if they do
try it, you may depend upon it, they will
do it at their own time, and not at yours*
They will not select a fortnight in the
summer, during a profound peace,
when com and money abound, and
when the Catholics of Europe are un-
concerned spectators. If you make a
resolution to be unjust, you must make
another resolution to be always strong,
always, vigilant, and always rich ; you.
must commit no blunders, exhibit no
deficiencies, and meet with no misfor-
tunes ; you must pi*esent a square
phalanx of impenetrable strength, for
keea-eyed revenge is riding round

Q3

230

LETTER TO THE ELECTORS,

your ranks; and if one heart falter, or
one hand tremble, 70a are lost.

You may call all this threatening; I
am sure I have no sach absurd inten-
tion ; but wish only, in sober sadness,
to point out what appears to me to' be
the inevitable consequences of the con-
duct we pursue. If danger be not
pointed out and insisted upon, how is
it to be avoided ? My firm belief is,
that England will be compelled to
grant ignominiously what she now re-
vises haughtily. Remember what
happened respecting Ireland in the
American war. In 1779, the Irish,
whose trade was completely restricted
by English laws, asked for some little
relaxation, some liberty to export her
own products, and to import the pro-
ducts of other countries; their petition
was flung out of the House with the
utmost disdain, and by an immense
majority. In April, 1782, 70,000 Irish
Tolunteers were under arms^ the repre-
sentatives of 170 armed corps met at
Ulster, and the English parliament
(the Lords and Commons both on the
same day and with only one dissentient
Toice, the ministers moving the ques>
tion) were compelled, in the most dis-
graceful and precipitate manner, to
acknowledge the complete indepen-
dence of the Irish nation, and nothing
but the good sense and moderation of
Grattan prevented the separation of the
two crowns.

It is no part of my province to de-
fend every error of the Catholic Church :
I believe it has many errors, though I
am sure these errors are grievously
exaggerated and misrepresented. I
should think it a vast accession to the
happiness of mankind, if every Catholic
in Europe were converted to the Pro-
testant faith. The question is not.
Whether there shall be Catholics, but
. the question (as they do exist and you
cannot get rid of them) is, What are
you to do with them ? Are you to
make men rebels because you cannot
make them Frot^estants ? and are you
to endanger your state, because you
cannot enlarge your Church ? England
is the ark of liberty : the English
Church I believe to be one of the best
establishments in the world; but what

is to become of England, of its Church,
its free institutions, and the beautiful
political model it holds out to man-
kind, if Ireland should succeed in con-
necting it^lf with any other European
power hostile to England? I join in
the cry of No Popery, as lustily as any
man in the streets, who does not know
whether the Pope iives in Cumberland
or Westmoreland ; but I know that it
is impossible to keep down European
popery, and European tyranny, without
the assistance, or with the opposition
of Ireland. If you give the Irish their
privileges, the spirit of the nation will
overcome the spirit of the Church :
they will cheerfully serve you against
all enemies, and chant a Te Deum for
your victories over all the Catholic ar-
mies of Europe. If it be true, as her
enemies say, that th^ Roman Catholic
Church is waging war all over Europe
against common sense, against public
liberty; selling the people to kings and
nobles, and labouring for the few
against the many; all this is an addi-
tional reason why I would fortify
England and Protestantism by eveiy
concession to Ireland; why I should
take care that our attention was not
distracted, nor our strength wasted by
internal dissension ; why I would not
paralyse those arms which wield the
sword of Justice among the nations of
the world, and lift up the buckler of
safety. If the Catholic religion in Ire-
land is an abuse, you must tolerate
that abuse, to prevent its extension
and tyranny over the rest of Europe.
If you will take a long view instead of
a confined view, and look generally to
the increase of human happiness, the
best chech upon the increase of Popery^
the beat security for the Establishment
of the Protestant Church ts, that the
British Empire shall be preserved in a
state of the greatest strengthr unions and
opulence, my cry then is. No Popery;
therefore, emancipate the Catholics,
that they may not join with foreign
papists in time of war. Church for
ever ; therefore emancipate the Catho-
lics, that they may not help to pull it
down. King for ever ; therefore eman-
cipate the Catholics, that they may
become his loyal subjects. Great Bri-

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

231

tain for ever; therefore emancipate the
Catholics, that they may not put an
end to its perpetuity. Our Government
is essentially Protestant ; therefore, hy
emancipating the Catholics, give up a
few circumstances 'which have nothing
to do with the essence. The Catholics
are disguised enemies; therefore, hy
emancipation, tarn them into open
friends. Thof have a double allegiance;
therefore, hy emancipation, make their
allegiance to their King so grateful,
that they never will confound it with
the spiritual allegiance to their Pope.
It is very difficult for electors, who are
much occupied hy other matters, to
choose the right path amid the rage
and fnry of fiiction : hut I give you one
mark, vote for a free altar ; give what
the law compels you to give to the
Estahlishment ; (that done,) no chains,
no prisons, no bonfires for a man*8
faith; and, above all, no modern chains
and prisons under the names of dis-
qualifications and incapacities, which
are only the cruelty and tyranny of a
more civilised <»ge ; civil offices open to
all, a Catholic or a Protestant alder-
man, a Moravian or a Church of Eng-
land, or a Wepleyan justice, no oppres-
suMf ru> tyranny in belief: a free akar,
an open road to heaven ; no human inso-
lence, no human narrowness, hallowed
by the name of Crod,

Every man in trade ninst have ex-
perienced the difficulty of getting in a
bill from an unwilling paymaster. If
yon call in the morning, the gentleman
is not up; if in the middle of the day,
he is out ; if in the evening, there is
company. If you ask mildly, you are
indifferent to the time of payment ; if
you press, you are impertinent No
time and no manner can render sdch a
message agreeable. So it is with the
poor Catholics ;. their message is so
disagreeable, that their time and man-
ner can never be right. **Not this
session. Not now : on no account at
the present time ; any other time than
this. The great mass of the Catholics
are so torpid on the snbject, that the
question is clearly confined to the am-
bition of the few, or the whole Catho-
lic population are so leagued together,
that the object ia clearly to imimidate

the mother-country.^' In short, the
Catholics want justice, and we do not
mean to be just, and the most specious
method of refusal is, to have it helieved
that they are refused from their own
folly, and not from our fanlt.
i What if O'Connell (a man certainly
of extraordinary talents and eloquence)
is sometimes violent and injudicious ?
What if 0*Gorman or O'Snllivan have
spoken ill of the Reformation ? ' Is a
great stroke of national policy to de*
pend on such childish considerations as
these? If these chains ought to re-
main, could I be induced to remove
them by the chaste language and hum-
ble deportment of him who wears
them ? If they ought to be struck
away, would I continue them, because
my taste was ofi^ended by the coarse
insolence of a goaded and injured cap-
tive? Would I make that great mea-
sure to depend on the irritability of my
own feelings, which ought to depend
upon policy and justice? The more vio-
lent and the more absurd the conduct
of the Catholics, the greater the wisdom
of emancipation. If they were always
governed by men of consnmniate pru*
deuce and moderation, your justice in
refusing would be the same, but your
danger would be less. The levity and
irritability of the Irish character are
pressing reasons why all just causes of
provcAation should be taken away, and
those high passions enlisted in the ser-
vice of the empire.

In talking of the' spirit of the Papal
empire, it is often argued that the wiU
remains the same ; that the Pontiff
wouldj if he couldy exercise the same
influence in Europe; that the Catholic
Church uHntldy if it could, tjrrannise
over the rights and opinions of man-
kind ; but if the power be taken away,
what signifies the will ? If the Pope
thunder in vain against the kingdoms
of the earth, of what consequence is
his disposition to thunder ? If man-
kind are too enlightened and too hu-
mane to submit to the cruelties and
hatreds of a Catholic priesthood ; if
the Protestants of the empire are suffi-
ciently strong to resist it, why are we
to alarm ourselves with the barren
volition, unseconded by the requisite

Q4

232

LETTER TO THE ELECTORS,

power ? I hardly know in what order
or description of men I should choose
to confide, if they could do as they
would; the best security is, that the
rest of thc/ world will not let them do
as they wish to do ; and having satis-
fied myself of this, I am not very care^
ful about the rest.

' Oar government is called essentially
Protestant ; • bat if it be essentially
Protestant in the distribation of offices,
it should be essentially Protestant in
the Imposition of taxes. The treasury
is open to all religions, parliament only
to one. The tax-gatherer is the most
indulgent and liberal of human beings;
he excludes no creed, imposes no ar-
ticles; but counts Catholic cash, pockets
Protestant paper ; and is candidly and
impartially oppressive to every descrip-
tion of the Christian world. Can any-
thing be more base than when you
want the blood or the money of the
Catholics, to forget that they are Ca-
tholics, and to remember only that
they are British subjects ; and when
they ask for the benefits of the British
constitution, to remember only that
they are Catholics, and to forget that
they are British subjects ?

No Popery was the cry of the great
English Revolution, because the in-
crease and prevalence of Popexy in
England, would, at that period, have
rendered this island tributary toErance.
The Lish Catholics were, at that period,
broken to pieces by the severity and
military execution of Cromwell, and
by the penal laws. They are since
become a great and formidable people.
The same dread of foreign influence
makes it now necessary that they should
be restored to political rights. Must
the friends of rational liberty join in
a clamour against the Catholics now,
because in a very difierent state of the
world they excited that clamour a
hundred years ago ? I remember a
house near Battersea Bridge which
caught fire, and there was a general
cry of "Water, water!" Ten years
after, the Thames rose, and the people
of the house were nearly drowned.
Would it not have b«en rather sin-
gular to have said to the inhabitants,
^I heard you calling for water ten

years ago, why don't you call for it
now?"

There are some men who think the
present times so incapable of forming
any opinions, that they are always
looking back to the wisdom of our
ancestors. Now, as the Catholics sat
in the English parliament to the reign
of Charles IL, and in the L-ish parlia-
ment, I believe, till the reign of £ing
William, the precedents are more in
their favour than otherwise ; and to
replace them in parliament seems
rather to return to, than to deviate
from, the practice of our ancestors.

If the Catholics are priest-ridden,
pamper the rider, and he will not
stick so close ; don't torment the ani-
mal ridden, and his violence will be
less dangerous.

The strongest evidence against the
Catholics is that of Colonel John
Irvine ; he puts everything against
them in the strongest light, and Colonel
John (with great actual, though, I am
sure, with no intentional exaggeration)
does not pretend to say there would be
more than forty-six members returned
for Ireland who were Catholics; bat
how many members are there in the
House now returned by Catholics, and
compelled, from the fear of losing their
seats, to vote in favour of every mea-
sure which concerns the Catholic
Church? The Catholic party, as the
Colonel justly observes, was formed
when you admitted them to the dec-
tive franchise. The Catholic party
are increasing so much in boldness,
that they wHl soon require of the
members they return, to oppose gene-
rally any government hostile to Catho-
lic emancipation, and they will tarn
out those who do not comply with this
rule. If this be done, the phalanx so
much dreaded from .emancipation is
found at once without emancipation.
This consequence of resistance to the
Catholic claims is well worth the at-
tention of those who make use of the
cry of No Popery, as a mere political
engine.

We are taunted with our propheti-
cal spirit, because it is said by the
advocates of the Catholic question that
the thing must come to pass ; that it

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

is inevitable : otu* prophecy, however,
is foanded apon experience and com-
mon sense, and is nothing more than
the application of the past to the future.
In a few years* time, when the mad-
ness and wretchedness of war are for-
gotten, when the greater part of those
who have lost in war, legs and arms,
health and sons, have gone to their
graves, the same scenes will be acted
over again in the world. France,
Spain, Russia, and America, will be
upon us. The Catholics will watch
their opportunity, and soon settle the
question of Catholic emancipation.
To suppose that any nation can go on,
in the midst of foreign wars, denying
common justice to seven millions of
men, in the heart of the empire,
awakened to their situation, and
watching for the critical moment of
redress, does, I confess, appear to me
to be the height of extrayagance. To
foretell the consequence of such causes,
in my humble apprehension, demands

00 more of shrewdness than to point
out the probable results of leaving a
lighted candle stuck up in an open
barrel of gunpowder.

It is very difficult -to make the mass
of mankind believe that the state of
things is ever to be otherwise than
they have been accustomed to see it.

1 have very often heard old persons,
describe the impossibility of making
any one believe that the American
colonies could ever be separated from
this country. It was always con-
sidered as an idle dream of discon-
tented politicians, good enough to fill
up the periods of a speech, but which
no practical man, devoid of the spirit
of party, considered to be within the
limits of possibility. There was a
period when the slightest concession
would have satisfied the Americans;
but all the world was in heroics ; one
set of gentlemen met at the Iamb,
and another at the Lion : blood and
treasure men, breathing war, ven-
geance, and contempt; and in eight
years afterwards, an awkward looking
gentleman in plain clothes walked up
to the drawing-room of St.- James's,
in the midst of the gentlemen of the
Lion and Lamb, and was introduced

238

as the amboModor from the United
States of America,

You must forgive me if I draw illus-
trations from common things — but in
seeing swine driven, I have often
thought of the Catholic question, and
of the difierent methods of governing
mankind. The object, one day, was
to drive some of these animals along
a path, to a field where they had not
been before. The man could by no
means succeed; instead of turning
their faces to the north, and proceeding .
quietly along, they made for the east
and the west, rushed back to the south,
and positively refused to advance; a
reinforcement of rustics was called for
— maids, children, neighbours, all
helped ; a general rushing, screaming,
and roaring ensued ; but the main ob-
ject was not in the slightest degree
advanced: after a long delay we re-
solved (though an hour before we
should have disdained such a compro-
mise) to have recourse to Catholic
emancipation: a little boy was sent
before them with a handful of barley ;
a few grains were scattered in the path,
and the bristly herd were speedily and
safely conducted to the place of their
destination. If, instead of putting
Lord Stowell out of breath with driving,
compelling the Duke of York to swear,
and the Chancellor to strike at them
with the mace. Lord Liverpool would
condescend, in his graceful manner, to
walk before the Catholic doctors with
a basket of barley, what a deal of ink
and blood would be saved to mankind!

Because the Catholics are intolerant^
we will he intolerant ; but did anybody
ever hear before that a government 'is
to imitate the vices of its subjects ? If
the Irish were a rash, violent, and in-
temperate race, are they to be treated
with rashness, violence, and intempe-
rance ? If they were addicted to fraud
and falsehood, are they to be treated
by those who rule them with fraud and
falsehood ? Are there to be perpetual
races in error and vice between the
people and the lords of the people ?
Is the supreme power always to find
virtues among the people; never to
teach them by example, or improve
them by laws and institutions ? Mako

234

LETTER TO THE ELECTOBS,

all sects free, and let them leani the
yalue of the blessing to others, bj their
own enjoyment of it ; bnt if not, let
them learn it bj jonr yigiUnce and
firm resistance to eTerything intolerant
Toleration will then become a habit
and a practice, ingrafted upon the man-
ners of a people, when they find the
law too strong for them, and that there
is no nse in being intolerant

It is very tme that the Catholics have
a double idlegiance*, but it is equally
tme that their second or spiritual alle-
giance has nothing to do with civil
policy, and does not, in the most dis-
tant manner, interfere with their alle-
giance to the crown. What is meant
by allegiance to the crown, is, I presume,
obedience to acts of parliament, and a
resistance to those who are constitu-
tionally proclaimed to be the enemies
of the country. I have seen and heard
of no instance for this century and a
half last past, where the spiiitaial sove-
reign has presumed to meddle with the
affairs of the temporal soTereign. The
Catholics deny him such power by the
most solemn oaths which the wit of
man can devise. In every war, the
army and navy are full of Catiiolic
officers and soldiers; and if their al-
legiance in temporal matters is un-
impeachable and unimpeached, what
matters to whom they choose to pay
spiritual obedience, and to adopt as
their guide in genuflexion and psalm-
ody ? Suppose these same Catholics
were foolish enough to be governed by
a set of Chinese moralists in their diet,
this would be a third allegiance ; and
if they were regulated by Brahmins in
their dress, this would be a fourth alle-
giance; and if they received the direc-
tions of the Patriarch of the Greek
Church, in educating their children,
here is another allegiance; and as long
as they fought, and paid taxes, and kept
clear of the quarter sessions and assizes,
what matters how many fanciful supre-
macies and frivolous allegiances they

* The same double allegianoe exists in
every Catholio oountiy in Europe. The

giirftual head of the oountiy among French,
panish. and ilustrian Catholics is the
Pope ; the political head, the king or em-
peror.

choose to mannfiutore or accnmnlate
for themselves ?

A great deal of time would be spared,
if gentlemen, before they ordered their
post-chaises fw a No Popery meeting,
would read the most elementary de-
fence of these people, and inform them-
selves even of the rudiments of the
question. If the Catholics meditate
the resumption of the Catholic property,
why do they purchase that which they
know (if the fondest object of their
political life succeed) must be taken
away from them ? Why is not an at-
tempt made to purchase a quietus from
the rebel who is watching the blessed
revolutionary moment for regaining bis
possessions, and revelling in the un-
bounded sensuality of me^y and waxy
enjoyments? Bnt after adl, who are
the descendants of the rightful pos-
sessors? The estate belonged to the
0*Rourkes, who were hanged, drawn,
and quartered in the time of Cromwell:
true; but before that, it belonged to the
O'Connors, who were hanged, drawn,
and quartered in the time of Heniy
yiL The 0*Sullivan8 have a still ear-
lier plea of suspension, evisceration, and
division. Who is the rightful possessor
of the estate ? We forget that Catho-
lic Ireland has been murdered three
times over by its Protestant masters.

Mild and genteel people do not like
the idea of peisecution, and are advo-
cates for toleration; but then they
think it no act of intolerance to deprive
Catholics of political power. The his-
tory of all this is, that all men secretly
like to punish others for not being of
the same opinion with themselves, and
that this sort of privation is the only
species of persecution, of which the
improved feeling and advanced culti-
vation of the age will admit Fire and
^Aggot, chains and stone walls, have
been clamoured away; nothingremains
but to mortify a man*s pride, and to
limit his resources, and to set a mark
upon him, by cutting him off from his
fair share of politick power. By this
receipt insolence is gratified, and hu-
manity is not shocked. The gentlest
Protestant can see, with dry eyes. Lord
Stourton excluded from parliament,
though he would abominate the most

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

233

distant idea of personal craeltj to Mr.
Fetre. This is only to say that he lives
in the nineteenth, instead of the six-
teenth century, and that he is its intol-
erant in religions matters as the state
of manners existing in his age will
permit Is it not the same spirit which
wounds the pride of a fellow-creatore
on account of his faith, or which casts
his body into the flames ? Are they
anything else bnt degrees and modifi-
cations of the same principle ? « The
minds of these two men no more differ
because they differ in their degrees of
punishment, than their bodies differ
because one wore a doublet in the time
of Mary, and the oth^ wears>a coat in
the reign of George. I do not accuse
them of intentional cruelty and injus-
tice : I am sure there are Tery many
excellent men who would be shocked if
they could conceive themselves to be
guilty of anything like cruelty; but
Uiey innocently give a wrong name to
the bad spirit which is within them, and
think they are tolerant, because they
are not as intolerant as they could have
been in other times, but cannot be now.
The true spirit is to search after God
and for anotha" life with lowliness of
heart; to fling down no man^s aitar^ to
punvii no marts prayer; to heap no pen-
alties and no pains on jUiose solemn svp"
plications which^ in divers tongues^ and
in varied forms, and in temples of a
thousand shapes, but with one deep sense
of human dependence^ men pour forth to
God.

It is completely untrue that the
Catholic ^religion is what it was three
centuries ago, or that it is unchange-
able and unchanged. These are mere
words, without the shadow of truth to
support them. If the Pope were to
address a bull to the kingdom of Ire-
land, exconmiunicating the Duke of
York, and cutting him off from the
succession, for his Protestant effusion
in the House of Lords, he would be
laughed at as a lunatic in all the Catho-
lic chapels in Dublin. The Catholics
would not now bum Protestants as
heretics. In many parts of Europe,
Catholics and Protestants worship in
one church — Catholics at eleven, Pro-
testants at one ; they sit tin the same

parliament, are elected to the same
office, live together without hatred or
friction, under equal laws. Who can
see and know these things, and say that
the Catholic religion is unchangeable
and unchanged?

I have often endeavoured to reflect
upon the causes which, from time to
time, raised such a clamour against the
Catholics, and I think the following are
among the most conspicuous:

1. Historical recollections of the
cruelties inflicted upon the Protestants.

2. Theological differences.

3. A belief that the Catholics are
unfriendly to liberty.

4. That their morality is not good.

5. That they meditate the destruc-
tion of the Protestant Church.

6. An unprincipled clamour by men
who have no sort of belief in the dan-
ger of emancipation, but who make
use of No Popery as a political engine.

7. A mean and selfish spirit of deny-
ing to others the advantages we our-
selves enjoy.

8. A vindictive spirit or love of pun-
ishing others, who offend our self-love
by presuming^ on important points, to
entertain opinions opposite to our own;

9. Stupid compliance with the opin-
ions of the majority.

10. To these I must, in justice and
candour, add, as a tenth cause, a real
apprehension on the part of honest and
reasonable men, that it is dangerous
to grant further concessions to the
Catholics.

To these various causes I shall-make
a short reply, in the drder in which I
have placed them.

1. Mere historical recollections are
very miserable reasons for the contin-
uation of penal and incapacitating
laws, and one side has as much to
recollect as the other.

.2. The State has nothing to do with
questions purely theological

3. It is ill to say this in a country
whose free institutions were founded
by Catholics, and it is often said by
men who care nothing about free in-
stitutions.

4. It is not true.

5. Make their situation so comfort-
able, that it will not be worth their

S36

LETTER TO THE ELECTORS,

while to attempt an enterprise so
desperate.

6. This is an unfair political trick,
because it is too dangerous: it is spoil-
ing the table in order to win the game.

The 7th and 8tb causes exercise a
great share of influence in every act of
intolerance. The 9th must, of course,
comprehend the greatest number.

10. Of the existence of such a class
of No Foperists as this, it would be the
height of injustice to doubt, but I con-
fess it excites in me a veiy great degree
of astonishment.

' Suppose, after a severe struggle, jou
put the Irish down, if they are mad
and foolish enough to recur to open
violence; yet are Sie retarded industry,
and the misapplied energies of so many
millions of men, to go for nothing?
Is it possible to forget all the wealth,
peace, and happiness which are to be
sacrificed for twenty years to come, to
these pestilential and disgraceful squab-
bles? Is there no horror in looking
forward to a long period in which men,
instead of ploughing and spinning,
will curse and hate, and bum and
murder ?

There seems to me a sort of injustice
and impropriety in our deciding at all
upon the Catholic question. It should
be left to those Irish Protestants whose
shutters are bullet-proof ; whose din-
ner-table is regularly spread with knife,
fork, and cocked pistol; salt-cellar and
powder-flask. Let the opinion of those
persons be resorted to, who sleep in
sheet-iron nightcaps; who have fought
60 often and so dbbly before their scul-
lery-door, and defended the parlour
passage as bravely as Leonidas de-
fended the pass of Thermopylse. The
Irish Protestant members see and know
the state of their own country. Let
their votes decide ♦ the case. We are
quiet and at peace ; our homes may
be defended with a feather, and our
doors fastened with a pin; and, as
ignorant of what armed and insulted
Popery is, as we are of the state of
New Zealand, we pretend to regulate
by our clamours the religious factions
of Ireland.

* A great majority of Irish members
voted for Cathohc Emancipation.

It is a very pleasant thing to trample
vpon Catholics, and it is also a very
pleasant thingto have an immense num-
ber of pheasants running about your
woods ; but there come thirty or forty
poachers in the night, and fight with
thirty or forty game^preservers ; some
are killed, some fractured, some scalped,
some maimed for life. Poachers are
caught up and hanged; a vast body of
hatred and revenge accumulates in the
neighbourhood of the great man ; and
he says, ** The sport is not worth the
candle. The preservation of game is
a very agreeable thing, but I will not
sacrifice the happiness of my life to it.
This amnsement^ike any other, may
be purchased too^early." So it is with
the Irish Protestants; they are finding
out that Catholic exclusion may be
purchased too dearly. Maimed cattle,
fired ricks, threatening letters, barri-
cadoed houses, — to endure all this,is
to purchase superiority at too dear a
rate; and this is the inevitable state
of two parties, the one of whom are
unwilling to relinquish their ancient
monopoly of power, while the other
party have, at length, discovered their
strength, and are determined to be free.

Gentlemen (with the best intentions,
I am sure) meet together in a county
town, and enter into resolutions that
no further concessions are to be made
to the Catholics; but if you will not let
them into Parliament, why not allow
them to be king's counsel, or sergeants-
at-law ? Why are they excluded by
law from some corporations in Ireland,
and admissible, though not admitted,
to others ? I think, before such general
resolutions of exclusion are adopted,
and the rights and happiness of so
many millions of people disposed of,
it would be decent and proper to obtain
some tolerable information of what the
present state of the Irish Catholics is,
and of the vast number of insignificant
offices from^ which they are excladed.
Keep them* from Parliament if yon
think it right, but do not, therefore,
exclude them from anything else, to
which you think Catholics may be
fairly admitted without danger; and
as to their content or discontent, there
can be no sirt of reason why discoa«

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

tent should not be lessened, thongh it
cannot be removed.

You are shocked by the present vio-
lence and abuse used by the Irish Asso-
ciation : by whom are they driven to
it? and whom are you to thank for it?
Is there a^hope left to them? Is any
term of endurance alluded to, — any
scope or boundary to their patience ?
Is the minister waiting for opportuni-
ties? Have they reason to believe that
they are wished well to by the greatest
of the great ? Have they brighter hopes
in uiother reign? Is there one clear
spot in the horizon? anything that you
have left to them, but that disgust,
hatred, and despair, which, breaking
out into wild eloquence, and acting
Dpon a wild people, are preparing every
day a mass of treason and disaffection,
which may shake this empire to its very
centre ? and you may laugh at Daniel
O'Connell, and treat him with con-
tempt, and turn his metaphors into
ridicule; but Daniel has, after all, a
great deal of real and powerful elo-
quence; and a strange sort of misgiving
sometimes comes across me, that Daniel
and the Doctor are not quite so great
fools as many most respectable country
clergymen believe them to be.

You talk of their abuse of the Be-
formation — but is there any end to the
obloquy and abuse with which the
Catholics are upon every point, and
from every quarter, assailed? Is there
any one folly, vice, or crime, which the
blind ffirj of Protestants does not
lavish upon them? and do you suppose
all this is to be heard in silence, and
without retaliation? Abuse as much
as yoa please, if you are going to
emancipate; but if you intend to do
nothing for the Catholics but to call
them names, you must not be out of
temper if you receive a few ugly appel-
lations in return.

The great object of men who love
party better than truth, is to have it
believed that the Catholics alone have
been persecutors ; but what can be
more flagrantly unjust than to take our
notions of history only from the con-
quering and triumphant party? If you
think the Catholics have not their Book
of Martyrs as well as the J'rotestauts,

287

take the following enumeration of
some of their most learned and care-
ful writers : —

The whole number of Catholics who have
suffered death in Englaud for the exercise
of the Soman Catholic religion since the
Beformation : —

HemyVUL .... 69

Ehzabeth * . . . . 204-

James I. ..... 25

Charles I. and 7
Commonwealth 5
Charles IL • • . • 8

23

Total

319

Henry VIU., with consummate im-
partiality, burnt three Protestants and
hanged four Catholics for different
errors in religion on the same day, and
at the same place. Elizabeth burnt
two Dutch Anabaptists for some theo-
logical tenets, July 22, 1575, Fox the
martyrologist vainly pleading with the
queen in their favour. In 1579, the
same Frotestant queen cut off the hand
of Stubbs, the author of a tract against
popish connection, of Singleton, the
printer, and Page, the disperser of the
book. Camden saw it done. Warbur-
ton properly says it exceeds in cruelty
anything done by Charles I. On the
4th of June, Mr. Elias Thacker and
Mr. John Capper, two ministers of the
Brownist persuasion, were hanged at
St Edmund*8-bury, for dispersing
books against the Common Prayer.
With respect to the great part of the
Catholic victims, the law was fully and
literally executed : after being hanged
up, they were cut down alive, dismem-
bered, ripped up, and their bowels
burnt before their faces ; after which
they were beheaded and quartered.
The time employed in thisjautchery
was very considerable, and^ in one
instance, lasted more than half an
hour.

The uncandid excuse for all this is,
that the greater part of these men were
put to death for political) not for reli-
gious crimes. That is, a law is first
passed, making it high treason for a
priest to exercise his function in Eng-
land, and so, when he is caught and
burnt, this is not religious persecution,
but an offence against the state. We

238

are, I hope, all too busy to need an j
answer to such childish, oncandid rea-
soning as this.

The total nomber of those who
suffered capitallj in the reig^ of Eliza-
beth, is stated by Dodd, in his Church
History*, to be one handred and nine-
nine ; further inquiries made their
number to be tWo hundred and four :
fifteen of these were condemned for
denying the queen's supremacy ; one
hundred and twenty-six for the exercise
of priestly functions ; and the others
for being reconcile to the Catholic
faith, or for aiding and assisting priests.
In this l^st, no person is inclined who
was executed for any plot, real or
imaginary, except eleren, who suffered
for the pretended plot of Rheims ;'a
plot, which. Dr. Mifner justly obserres,
was so daring a forgery, that even
Camden allows the sufferers to have
been political yictims. Besides these,
mention is made, in the same work, of
ninety Catholic priests, or laymen, who
died in prison in 'the same reign.
** About the same time," he says, "I
find fifty gentlemen lying prisoners in
York Castle ; most of them perished
there, of vermin, famine, hunger, thirst,
dirt, damp, fever, whipping, and broken
hearts, the inseparable' circumstances
of prisons in those days. These were
every week, for a twelvemonth together,
dragged by main force to hear the
established service performed in the
Castle chapel/' The Catholics were
frequently, during the reign of Eliza-
beth, tortured in the most dreadful
manner. In order to extort answers
from Father Campian, he was laid on
the rack, and. his limbs stretched a
little, to show him, as the executioner
termed it^ what the rack was. He per-
sisted in his refusal ; then for several
days successively, the torture was in-
creased, and on the last two occasions,

• The total number of sufferers in the
reign of Queen Mary, varies, I believe, from
200 in the CathoUc to 280 in the Protestant
accounts. I recommend all young men who
wish to form some notion of what answer
the Catholics have to make, toread Milner's
"Letters to a Prebendary," and to follow
the line of reading to which his references
lead. They will then learn the importance
of that sacred maxim, Audi alteram par-

MM,

LETTER TO THE ELECTOBS»

he was so crtieUy rent and torn, that
he expected to expire under the tor-
ment. While under the rack, he called
continually upon God. In the reign
of the Protestant Edward VL, Joan
Knell was burnt to death, and the year
after, George Parry was burnt also.
In 1575, two Protestants, Peterson and
Turwort (as before stated) were burnt
to death by Elizabeth. In 1 589, under
the same queen, Lewes, a Protestant,
was burnt to death at Norwich, whero
Francis Kett was also burnt for reli-
gious opinions, in 1589, under the same
great queen ; who, in 1591, hanged
the Protestant Hacket for heresy, in
Cheapside, and put to death Green-
wood, BuTow, and Penry, for being
Broumists, Southwell, a Catholic, was
racked ten times during the reign of
this sister of bloody Queen Mary. In
1592, Mrs. Ward was hanged, drawn,
and quartered, for assisting a Catholic
priest to escape in a box. Mrs. Lyne
suffered the same punishment for har-
bouring a priest ; and in 1586, Mrs.
Clitheroe, who was accused of relieving
a priest, and refused to plead, was
pressed to death in York Castle ; a
sharp stone being placed underneath
her back.

Have not Protestants persecuted both
Catholics and their fellow Protestants
in Germany, Switzerland,- GeneTS,
France, Holland, Sweden, and Eng-
land ? Look to the atrocious punish-
ment of Leighton, under Laud, i(X
writing against prelacy : first his ear
was cut off, then his nose slit; then the
other ear cut off, then whipped, then
whipped again. Look to the horrible
cruelties exercised by the Protestant
Episcopalians on the Scottish Presby-
terians, in the reign of Charles XL, of
whom 8000 are said to have perished
in that persecution. Persecntions of
Protestants by Protestants, are amply
detailed by Chandler, in his History of
Persecution ; by Neale, in his Histoiy
of the Puritans; by Laing, in his
History of Scotland ; by Penn, in his
Life of Fox ; and in Brandt's History
of the Beformation in the Low Coun-
tries; which furnishes many very
terrible cases of the sufferings of the
Anabaptists and Bemonstrants. Jin

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

1560, the parliament of Scotland de-
creed, at one and the same time, the
establishment of Calvinism, and the
punishment of death against the ancient
religion: **With such indecent haste
(says Robertson) did the very persons
who had just escaped ecclesiastical
tyranny, proceed to imitate their ex-
ample." Nothing can be so absurd as
to suppose, that in barbarous ages the
excesses were all committed by one
religious party, and none by the other.
The Huguenots of France burnt
churches and hung priests wherever
they found them. £^oumenteau, one
of their own writers, confesses, that in
the single province of Dauphiny they
killed two hundred and twenty priests,
and one hundred and twelve iriars.
In the Low Countries, wherever Van-
demerk, and Sonoi, lieutenants of the
I^nce of Orange, carried their arms,
they uniformly put to death, and in
cold blood, all the priests and religious
they could lay their hands on. The
Protestant Servetus was put to death
by the Protestants of Greneva, for
denying the doctrine of the Trinity, as
the Protestant Gentilis was, on the
same score, by those of Berne; add to
these, Felix Mans, Botman, and Bar-
nevald. Of Servetus, Melanchthon, the
mildest of men, declared that lie de«
served to have his bowels pulled out,
and his body torn to pieces. The last
fires of persecution, which were lighted
in England, were by Protestants. Bar-
tholomew Legate, an Arian, was burnt
by order of King James in Smithfield,
on the 18th of March, 1612; on the
1 1th of April, in the same year, Edward
Weightman was burnt at Lichfield, by
order of the Protestant Bishop of Lich-
field and Coventry; and this man was,
/ beUeve, the last person who was burnt
in England for heresy. There was
another condemned to the fire for the
same heresy, but, as pity was excited
by the constancy of these sufferers, it
was thought better to allow him to
linger on a miserable life in Newgate.
Fuller, who wrote in the reign of
Charles II., and was a zealous Church
of England man, speaking of the burn-
ings in question, says, ** It may appear
that God was well pleased with them."

239

There are, however, grievous faults
on both sfdes: and as there are a set of
men, who, not content with retaliating
upon Protestants, deny the persecuting
spirit of the Catholics, I would ask
them what they think of the following
code, drawn up by the French Catholics
against the French Protestants, and
carried into execution for one hundred
years, and as late as the year 1765, and
not repealed till 1782.

** Any Protestant clergyman i*emain-
ing in France three days, without
coming to the Catholic worship, to be
punished with death. If a Protestant
sends his son to a Protestant school-
master for education, he is to forfeit
250 livres a month, and the school-
master who receives him, 50 livres. If
they sent their children to any seminary
abroad, they were to forfeit 2000 livres,
and the child so sent became incapable
of possessing property in France. To
celebrate Protestant worship, exposed
the clergyman to a fine of 2800 livres.
The fine for a Protestant for hearing
it, was 1300 livres. If any Protestant
denied the authority of the Pope in
France, his goods were seized for the
first offence, and- he was hanged for the
second. If any Common Prayer-book,
or book of Protestant worship, be
found in the possession of any Protest-
ant, he shall forfeit 20 livres for the
first offence, 40 livres for the second,
and shall be imprisoned at pleasure for
the third. Any person bringing from
beyond sea, or selling, any Protestant
books of worship, to forfeit 100 livres.
Any magistrates may search Protestant
houses for such articles. Any person,
required by a magistrate to take an
oath against the Protestant religion,
and refusing, to be committed to prison,
and if he afterwards refuse again,- to
suffer forfeiture of goods. Any person,
sending any money over sea to the
support of a Protestant seminary, to
forfeit his goods, and be imprisoned at
the king's pleasure. Any person going
over sea, for Protestant education, to
forfeit goods and lands for life. The
vessel to be forfeited which conveyed
any Protestant woman or child over
sea, without the king's licence. Any
person converting another to the Pro-

240

testant religion, to be put to death.
Death to any Protestant priest to come
into France ; death to the person who
receives him ; forfeitare of goods and
imprisonment to send monej for the
relief of any Protestant clergyman :
large rewards for discovering a Pro-
testant parson. £very Protestant shall
canse his child, within one month after
birth, to be baptized by a Catholic
priest, under a penalty of 2000 livres.
Protestants were fined 4000 livres a
month for being absent from Catholic
worship, were disabled from holding
offices and employments, from keeping
arms in their houses, from maintaining
suits at law, from being guardians,
from practising in law or physic, and
from holding offices, civil or military.
They were forbidden (bravo, Louis
XIV. !) to travel more than five miles
from home without licence, under pain
of forfeiting all their goods, and they
might not come to court under pain of
2000 livres. A married Protestant
woman, when convicted of being of
that persuasion, was liable to forfeit
two thirds of her jointure ; she could
not be executrix to her husband, nor
have any part of his goods; and during
her marriage she might be kept in
prison, unless her husband redeemed
her at the rate of 200 livres a month,
or the third part of his lands. Pro-
testants convicted of being such, were,
within three months after their con-
viction, either to submit, and renounce
their religion, or, if "required by four
magistrates, to abjure the realm, and if
th^y did not depart, or departing re-
turned, were to sufier deathl All Pro-
testants were required, under the most
tremendous penalties, to swear that
they considered the Pope as the head
of the Church. If they refused to take
this oath, which might be tendered at
pleasure by any two magistrates, they
could not act as advocates, procurenrs,
or notaries public. Any Protestant
taking any ofi^ce, civU or military, was
compelled to abjure the Protestant
religion ; to declare his belief in the
doctrine of transubstantiation, and to
take the Roman Catholic sacrament
within six months, under the penalty
of 10,000 livres. Any person profess

LETTER TO THE ELECTORS,

ing the Protestant religion, and educa-
ted in the same, was required, in six
months after the age of sixteen, to de-
clare the Pope to be the head of the
Church ; .to declare his belief in tran-
substantiation, and that the invocation
of saints was according to the doctrine
of the Christian religion ; failing this,
he could not hold, possess, or inherit
landed property ; his lands were given
to the nearest Catholic relation. Many
taxes were doubled upon Protestants.
Protestants keeping Khools were im-
prisoned for life, and all Protestants
were forbidden to come within ten
miles of Paris or Versailles. If any
Protestant had a horse worth more
than 100 livres, any Catholic magistrate
might take it away, and search the
house of the said Protestant for arms."
Is not this a monstrous code of perse-
cution ? Is it any wonder, after read-
ing such a spirit of tyranny as is here
exhibited, that the tendencies of the
Catholic religion should be suspected,
and that the cry of No Popery should
be' a rallying sign to every Protestant

nation in Europe ? Forgive,

gentle reader, and gentle elector, the
trifling deception I have practised upon
you. This code is not a code made by
Frenc^ Catholics against French Pro-
testants, but by English and Irish Pro-
testants against English and Irish Ca-
tholics ; I have given it to you, for the
most part, as it is set forth in Bum's
** Justice," of 1780 : it was acted upon
in the beginning of the last king's
reign, and was notorious through the
whole of Europe, as the most cruel and
atrocious system of persecution ever
instituted by one religious persuasion
against another. Of this code Mr.
Burke says, that "it is a truly barbar-
ous system ; where all the parts are an
outrage on the laws of humanity, and
the rights of nature ; it is a system of
elaborate contrivance, as well fitted
for the oppression, imprisonment, and
degradation of a people, and the de-
basement of human nature itself, as
ever proceeded from the perverted in-
genuity of man.'* It is in vain to say
that these cruelties were laws of politi-
cal safety; such has always been the
plea for all religious cruelties ; by such

ON THE CATHOLIC QUESTION.

arguments the Catholics defended the
massacre of St. Bartholomew, and the
burnings of Mary.

With sach facts as these, the cry of
persecution will not do ; it is unwise
to make it, because it can be so very
easily, and so very justly retorted. The
business is, to forget and forgive, to
kiss and be Mends* and to say nothing
of what has passed ; which is to the
credit of neither party. There have
been atrocious cruelties, and abomin-
able acts of injustice, on both sidesL
It is not worth while to contend who
shed the most blood, or whether (as
Dr. Sturgess objects to Dr. Milner)
death by fire is worse than hanging or
starving in prison. As far as England
itself is concerned, the balance may be
better preserved. Cruelties exercised
upon the Irish go for nothing in En-
glish reasoning ; but if it were not un-
candid and vexatious to consider Irish
persecutions* as part of the case, I
firmly believe there have been two
Catholics put to death for religious
causes in Great Britain for one Pro-
testant who has suffered : not that this
proves much, because the Catholics
have enjoyed the sovereign power for
so few years between this period and
the Reformation ; and certainly it must
be allowed that they were not inactive,
during that peri id, in the great work
of pious combustion.

It is h )wever some extenuation of
the Catholic excesses, that their reli-
gion was the religion of the whole of
Europe when the innovation began.
They were the ancient lords and mas-
ters of faith, before men introduced
the practice of thinking for themselves

♦ Thurloe writes to Henry Cromwell to
eatch up some thousand Irish boys, to send
to the colonies. Henry writes back he has
done so ; and desires to know whether his
Highness would choose as many girls to be
caught up: and he adds, "doubtless it is a
business in which God will appear.** Sup-
pose bloody Queen Mary had caught up and
transported three or four thousand Pro-
testant boys and girls from the three
EidingsotYorkshirellMlI

241

in these matters. The Protestants have
less excuse, who claimed the right of
innovation, and then tamed round
upon other Protestants who acted upon
the same principle, or upon Catholics
who remained as they were, and visited
them with all the cruelties from which
they had themselves so recently es-
caped.

Both sides, as they acquired power,
abused it; and both learnt, from their
sufferings, the great secret of toleration
and forbearance. If you wish to do
good in the times in which you live,
contribute your efforts to perfect this
grand work. I have not the most dis-
tant intention to interfere in local
politics ; but I advise you never to
give a vote to any man whose only
title for asking it is, that he means to
continue the punishments, privations,
and incapacities of any human beings,
merely because they worship God in
the way they think best: the man who
asks for your vote upon such a plea,
is, probably, a very weak man, who
believes in his own bad reasoning, or
a very artful man, who is laughing at
you for your credulity: at all events,
he is a man who knowingly or un-
knowingly exposes his country to the
greatest dangers, and hands down to
posterity all the foolish opinions and
all the bad passions which prevail in
those times in which he happens to
live. Such a man is so far from being
that friend to the Church which he.
pretends to be, that he declares its
safety cannot be reconciled with the
franchises of the people ; for what worse
can be said of the Church of England ,
than this, that wherever it is judged
necessary to give it a legal establish-
ment, it becomes necessary to deprive
the body of the people, if they adhere
to their old opinions, of their liberties,
and of all their free customs, and to
reduce them to a state of civil servi-
tude?

Sydney Smith.

VoL.IL

B

A SERMON

OM THOSB

RULES OF CHRISTIAN CHARITY

BY WHICft

OUK OPINIONS OF OTHEB SECTS SHOULD BE FORMED

FBBACHBD BBFOBB THB

MAYOR AND COBPOEATION

IN

THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF BRISTOL
On Wednesdmy, Nov. 5, 1828.

I PUBLISH this Sermon (or rather allov others to publish it), because many persons^
who know the city of Bristol better than I do, have earnestly solicited me to do so, and
are convinced it will do good. It is not without reluctance (as Tar as I myself am con-
cemed) that I send to the Press such plain rudimoits of common charity and commcm
sense.

Nov. 8, 1828.

Stdset Sxith.

Coi.. m. 12, 18.

Put on, as the elect qf Ood, kindness,
humbleness qf mind, meekness, long-
suffering; forbearing one another, and
forgimng one another.

The Church of England, in its wisdom
and piety, has very properly ordained
that a day of thanksgiving should be
set apart, in which we may return
thanks to Almighty God, for the mer-
cies vouchsafed to this nation in their
escape from the dreadful plot planned
for the destruction of the Sovereign
and his Parliament, — the forerunner,
no doubt, of such sanguinary scenes
as were suited to the manners of that
age, and must have proved the inevi-
table consequence of such enormous
wickedness and cruelty. Such an
escape is a fair and lawful foundation

for national piety. And it is a comely
and Christian sight to see the magis-
trates and high authorities of the land
obedient to the ordinances of the
Church, and holding forth to their
fellow-subjects a wise example of
national gratitude and serious devotion.
This use of this day is deserving of
every commendation. The idea that
Almighty God does sometimes exer-
cise a special providence for the pre-
servation of a whole people is justified
by Scripture, is not repugnant to rea-
son, and can produce nothing bat
feelings and opinions favourable to
virtuQ and religion.

Another wise and lawful use of this
day is an honest self-congratulation
that we have burst through those
bands which the. Roman Catholic
priesthood would impose upon human

A SERMON ON CHRISTIAN CHARITY.

243

jadgment ; that the Protestant Church
not only permits, bat exhorts, every
man to appeal from human anthoritj
lo the Scriptures; that it makes of the
clergy guides and advisers, not masters
and oracles ; that it discourages vain
and idle ceremonies, unmeaning ob-
servances, and h3rpocritical pomp; and
encourages freedom in thinking upon
religion, and simplicity in religious
forms. It is impossible that any can-
did man should not observe the marked
superiority of the Protestant over the
Catholic faith in these particulars; and
difficult that any pious man should not
feel grateful to Almighty Providence
for escape from danger which would
have plunged this country afresh into
so many errors and so many absur«
dities.

I hope, in this condemnation of the
Catholic religion (in which I most sin-
cerely join its bitterest enemies), I shall
not be so far mistaken as to have it
supposed that I would convey the
slightest approbation of any laws which
disqualify or incapacitate any class of
men from civil offices on account of
religions opinions. I regard all such
laws as fatal and lamentable mistakes
in legislation ; they are mistakes of
troubled times and half-barbarous ages.
All Europe is gradually emerging from
their influence. This country has
lately, with the entire consent of its
Prelates, made a noble and successful
effort, by the abolition of some of the
most obnoxious laws of this class. In
proportion as such example is followed,
the enemies of Church and State will
be diminished, and the foundation of
peace, order, and happiness be strength-
ened. These are my opinions, which
I mention, not to convert you, but to
guard myself from misrepresentation.
It is my duty, — it is my wish, — it is
the subject of this day to point out
those evils of the Catholic religion
from which we have escaped; but I
should be to the last degree concerned,
if a condemnation of theological errors
were to be construed into an approba-
tion of laws which I cannot but con-
sider as deeply marked by a spirit of
intolerance. I therefore beg you to
remember, that I record these opinions,

not for the purpose of converting any
one to them, which would be an abuse
of the privilege of addressing you from
the pulpit ; not that I attach the
slightest degree of importance to them
because they are mine; but merely to
guard myself from misrepresentation
upon a point on which all men's p^-
sions are, at this moment, so powerAilly
excited. '

I have said that, at this moment, all
men's passions are powerfully excited
on this subject. If this be true, it
points out to me my line of duty; I
must use my endeavours to guard
against the abuse of thU day ; to take
care that the principles of sound reason
are not lost sight of; and that such
excitement, instead of rising into dan-
gerous vehemence, is calmed into
active and useful investigation on the
subject.

I shall, therefore, on the present
occasion, not investigate generally the
duties of charity and forbearance, but
of charity and forbearance in religious
matters ; of that Christian meekness
and humility which prevent the intru-
sion of bad passions into religious-
concerns, and keep calm and pure the
mind intent upon eternity. And re-
member, I beg of you, that the rules I
shall oflfer you for the observation of
Christian charity are general, and of
universal application. What you
choose to do, and which way you
incline upon any particular question,
are, and can be, no concern of mine.
It would be the height of arrogance
and presumption in me, or in any
other minister of God's word, to inter-
fere on such points; I only endeavour
to teach that spirit of forbearance and
charity, which (though it cannot
always prevent differences upon reli-
gious points) will ensure that these
differences are carried on with Chris-
tian gentleness. I have endeavoured
to lay down these rules for difference
with care and moderation; and if you
will attend to them patiently I think
you will agree with me, that however
the practice of them may be forgotten,
the propriety of them cannot be de-
nied.
It would always be easier to fall in
b2

244

A SEEMON ON THE

with human passions than to resist
them ; hut the ministers of God must
do their duty through evil report, and
through good report; neither prevented
nor excited by the interests of the pre-
sent day. They must teach those
general truths which the Christian
religion has committed to their care,
and upon which the happiness and
peace of the world depend.

In pressing upon you the great duty
of religious charity, the inutility of the
opposite defect of religious violence
first offers itself to, and indeed ob«
trudes itself upon, my notice. The
evil of differei^e of opinion must exist;
it admits of no cure. The wildest
visionary does not now hope hq can
bring his fellow-creatures to one stan-
dard of faith. , If history has taught us
any one thing, it is that mankind, on
such sort of subjects, will form their own
opinions. Therefore to want charity
in religious matters is at least useless;
it h&rdens error, and provokes recri-
mination : but it does not enlighten
those whom we wish to reclaim, nor
does it extend doctrines which to us
appear so clear and indisputable. But
to do wrong, and to gain nothing by
it, is surely to add folly to fault, and
to proclaim an understanding not led
by the rule of reason, as well as a dis-
position unregulated by the Cluistian
faith.

Religious charity requires that we
should not judge any sect of Christians
by the representations of their enemies
alone, without hearing and reading
what they have to say in their own
defence; it requires only, of course, to
state such a rule to procure for it gen-
eral admission. No man can pretend
to say that such a rule is not founded
upon the plainest principles of justice
— upon those plain principles of justice
which no one thinks of violating in the
ordinary concerns of life ; and yet I
fear that rule is not always very
strictly adhered to in religious ani-
mosities. Religious hatred is often
founded on tradition, often on hearsay,
often on the misrepresentations of no-
torious enemies ; without inquiry,
without the slightest examination of
opposite reasons and authorities, or

consideration of that which the accused
party has to offer for defence or expla-
nation. It is impossible, I admit, to
examine everjrthing ; many have not
talents, many have not leisure, for such
pursuits ; many must be contented
with the faith in which they have been
brought up, and must think it the best
modification of the Christian faith, be-
cause they are told it is so. But this
imperfect acquaintance with religions
controversy, though not blameable
when it proceeds from want of power,
and want of opportunity, can be no
possible justification of violent and
acrimonious opinions. I would say to
the ignorant man, "It is not your
ignorance I blame ; you have had no
means perhapsof acquiring knowledge:
the circumstances of your life have not
led to it — may have prevented it ; but
then I must tell you, if you have not
had leisure to inquire, you have no
right to accuse. If you are unac-
quainted with the opposite arguments,
— *-or, knowing, cannot balance them,
it is not upon you the task devolves of
exposing the errors, and impugning
the opinions of other sects." If charity
be ever necessary, it is in those who
know accurately neither the accusation
nor the defence. If invectives,— if
rooted antipathy, in religious opinions
be ever a breach of Christian rules, it
is so in those who, not being able to
become wise, are not willing to become
charitable and modest.

Any candid man acquainted with
religious controversy will, I think,
admit that he has frequently, in the
course of his studies, been astonished
by the force of arguments with which
that cause has been defended which he
at first thought to be incapable of any
defence at all. Some accusations he.
has found to be utterly groundless; in
others the facts and arguments have
been mis-stated : in other instances the
accusation has been retorted: in masy
cases the tenets have been defended by
strong arguments and honest appeal to
Scripture, in many with consummate
acuteness and deep learning. So that
religious studies often teach to oppo-
nents a greater respect for each other's
talents, motives, and acquirements;

RULES OF CHRISTIAN CHARITY.

245

exhibit the real difficalties of the sub-
ject; lessen the surprise and anger
which are apt to be excited by oppo-
sition; and by these means, promote
that forgiving one another, and for-
bearing one another, which are so
powerfully recommended by the words
of my text.

A great deal of mischief is done by
not attending to the limits of inter-
ference with each other's religious
opinions, — by not leaving to the power
and wisdom of God, that which belongs
to God alone. Our holy religion con-
sists of some doctrines which influence
practice, and of others which are purely
speculative. If religious errors be of
the former description, they may, per-
haps, be fair objects of human inter-
ference; but if the opinion be merely
theological and speculative, there, the
right of human interference seems to
end, because the necessity for such in-
terference does not exist. Any error
of this nature is between the Creator and
the creature, — between the Redeemer
and the redeemed. If such opinions
are not the best opinions which can be
found, God Almighty will punish the
error, if mere error seemeth to the Al-
mighty a fit object of punishment.
Why may not man wait if God waits?
"Where are we called upon in Scripture
to pursue men for errors purely specu-
lative? — to assist Heaven in punishing
those offences which belong only to
Heaven ? — in fighting unasked for what
we deem to be the battles of God, — of
that patient and merciful God, who
pities the frailties we do not pity, — who
forgives the errors we do not forgive,
— who sends rain upon the just and
the unjust, and maketh his sun to shine
upon the evil and the good.

Another canon of religious charity
is to revise, at long intervals, the bad
opinions we have been compelled, or
rather our forefathers have been com-
pelled, to form of other Christian sects;
to see whether the different bias of the
age, the more general diffusion of in-
telligence, do not render those tenets
less pernicious: that which might prove
a very great evil under other circum-
stances, and in other times, may, per-
), however weak and erroneoQB, be

I

harmless in these times, and under
these circumstances. We must be
aware, too, that we do not mistake
recollections for apprehensions, and
confound together what has passed
with what is to come, — history with
futurity. For instance, it would be
the most enormous abuse of this re-
ligious institution to imagine that such
dreadful scenes of wickedness are to be
apprehended from the Catholics of the
present day, because the annals of this
country were disgraced by such an
event two hundred years ago. It
would be an enormous abuse of this
day to extend the crimes of a few
desperate wretches to a whole sect;
to fix the passions of dark ages upon
times of refinement and civilisation.
All these are mistakes and abuses of
this day, which violate every principle
of Christian charity, endanger ttie peace
of society, and give life and perpetuity
to hatreds, which must perish at one
time or another, and had better, for the
peace of society, perish now.

It would be religiously charitable
also, to consider whether the objection-
able tenets, which different sects pro-
fess, are in their hearts as well as in
their books. There is unfortunately so
much pride where there on^cht to be so
much humility, that it is difficult, if not
almost impossible, to make religious
sects abjure or recant the doctrines
they have once professed. It is not
in this manner, I fear, that the best and
purest churches are ever reformed.
But the doctrine gradually becomes
obsolete; and, though not disowned,
ceases in fact to be a distinguishing
characteristic of the sect which pro-
fesses it. These modes of reformation,
— this silent antiquation of doctrines, —
this real improvement, which the parties
themselves are too wise not to feel,
though not wise enough to own, must,
I am afraid, be generally conceded to
human infirmity. They are indulp:ences
not unnecessary to many sects of Chris-
tians. The more generous n)ethod
would be to admit error where error
exists, to say these were the tenets and
interpretations of dark and ignorant
ages; wider inquiry, fresh discussion,
superior intelligence have convinced

b3

246

A SERMON ON THE

us we are wrong; we will act in fatnre
upon better and wiser principles. This
is what men do in laws, arts, and
sciences; and happy for them would
it be if thej nsed the same modest
docility in the highest of all concerns.
Bat it is, I fear, more than experience
will allow ns to expect; and therefore
the kindest and most charitable method
is to allow religions sects silently to
improve without reminding them of,
and taunting them with, the improve-
ment; without bringing them to the
hnmiliation of formal disavowal, or the
still more pernicious practice of de-
fending what they know to be inde-
fensible. The triumphs which proceed
from the neglect of these principles are
not (what they pretend to be) the
triumphs of religion, but the triumphs
of personal vanity. The object is not
to extinguish dangerous error with as
little pain and degradation as possible
to him who has fallen into the error:
but the object is to exalt ourselves, and
to depreciate our theological oppoifentSy
as much as possible, at any expense to
God*s service, and to the real interests
of truth and religion.

There is another practice not less
common than this, and equally un-
charitable ; and that is, to represent
the opinions of the most violent and
eager persons who can be met with, as
the common and received opinions of
the whole sect. There are, in every
denomination of Christians, indivi-
duals, by whose opinion or by whose
conduct the great body would very
reluctantly be judged. Some men
aim at attracting notice by singu-
larity; some are deficient in temper;
some in learning; some push every
principle to the extreme ; distort,
overstate, pervert; fill every one to
whom their cause is dear with concern
that it should have been committed to
such rash and intemperate advocates.
If you wish to gain a victory over your
antagonists, these are the men whose
writings yon should study, whose
opinions you should dwell on, and
should carefully bring forward to
notice; but if you wish, as the elect of
God, to put on kindness and humble-
ness, meekness, and long-suffering, —

if you wish to forbear and to forgive,
it will then occur to you that you
should seek the true opinions of any
sect from those only who are approved
of, and reverenced by that sect; to
whose authority that sect defer, and
by whose arguments they consider their
tenets to be properiy defended. This
may not suit your purpose if yon are
combating for victory; but it is yoar
duty if you are combating for truth; it
is the safe, honest, and splendid con-
duct of him, who never writes nor
speaks on religious subjects, bat that
he may diffuse the real blessings of
religion among his fellow-creatures,
and restrain the bitterness of contro-
versy by the feelings of Christian charity
and forbearance.

Let us also ask ourselves, when we
are sitting in severe judgment upon
the faults, follies, and errors of other
Christian sects, whether it be not barely
possible that we have fallen into some
mistakes and misrepresentations? Let
us ask ourselves, honestly and fairly,
whether we are wholly exempt from
prejudice, from pride, from obstinate
adhesion to what candour calls upon
us to alter, and to yield? Are there
no violent and mistaken members of
our own community, by whose conduct
we should be loth to be guided,— by
whose tenets we should not choose our
faith should be judged? Has time, that
improves all, found nothing in as to
change for the better? Amid all the
manifold divisions of the Christian
world, are we the only Christians who,
without having anything to leani from
the knowledge and civilisation of the
last three centuries, have started np,
without infancy, and without error,
into consummate wisdom and spotless
perfection?

To listen to enemies as well as fHends
is a rule which not only increases sense
in common life, but is highly favourable
to the increase of religious candoar.
You find that you are not so free from
faults as your friends suppose, nor so
full of faults as your enemies suppose.
You begin to think it not impossible
that you may be as unjust to others as
they are to you; and that the wisest
and most Christian scheme is that of

RULES OF CHRISTIAN CHARITY.

247

mntnal indalgence; that it is better to
put on, as the elect of God, kindness,
hambleness of mind, meekness, long-
saffering, forbearing one another, and
forgiving one another.

Some men cannot understand how
they are to be zealous if they are candid
in religious matters; how the energy,
necessary for the one virtue, is com-
patible with the calmness which the
other requires. Bat remember that
the Scriptures carefully distinguish be-
tween laudable zeal and indiscreet zeal ;
that the apostles and epistolary writers
knew they had as much to fear from
the over-excitement of some men,
as from the supineness of others; and
in nothing have they laboured more
than in pr^enting religion from arm-
ing human passions, instead of allaying
them, and rendering those principles a
source of mutual jealousy and hatred
which were intended for universal
peace. I admit that indifference some-
times puts on the appearance of can-
dour; but though there is a counterfeit,
yet there is a reality; and the imitation
proves the value of the original, be-
cause men only attempt to multiply
the appearances of useful and impor-
tant things. The object is to be at
the same time pious to God and
charitable to man; to render your own
faith as pure and perfect as possible,
not only without hatred of those who
differ from you, but with a constant
recollection that it is possible, in
spite of thought and study, that you
may have been Aiistaken, — that other
sects may be right, — and that a zeal in
his service, which God does not want,
is a very bad excuse for those bad
passions which his sacred word con-
demns.

Lastly, I would suggest that many
differences between sects are of less
importance than the furious zeal of
many men would make them. Are
the tenets of any sect of such a de-
scription that we believe they will be
saved under the Christian faith ? Do
they fulfil the common duties of life?
Do they respect property? Are thev
obedient to the laws ? Do they speak
the truth? If all these things be
right, the violence of hostility may

surely submit to some little softness
and relaxation; honest difference of
opinion cannot fall for such entire
separation and complete antipathy;
such zeal as this, if it be zeal, and not
something worse, is not surely zeal
according to discretion.*

The arguments, then, which I have
adduced in support of the great princi-
ples of religious charity are, that vio-
lence upon such subjects is rarely or
ever found to be useful ; but generally
to produce effects opposite to those
which are intended. I have observed
that religious sects are not to be judged
from the representations of their ene-
faiies ? but that they are to be heard
for themselves, in the pleadings of
their best writers, not in the represen-
tations of those whose intemperate zeal
is a misfortune to the sect to which
they belong. If you will study the
principles of your religious opponents,
you will often find your contempt and
hatred lessened in proportion as you
are better acquainted with what you des-
pise. Many rel igious opinions, which
are purely speculative, are without the
limits of human, inteiference. In the
numerous sects of Christianity, inter-
preting our religion in very opposite
manners, all cannot be right Imitate
the forbearance and long-suffering of
God, who throws the mantle of his
mercy over all, and who will probably
save, on the last day, the piously right
and the piously wron^, seeking Jesus
in humbleness of mind. Do not drive
religious sects to the disgrace (or to
what they foolishly think the disgrace)
of formally disavowing tenets they
once professed, but concede something
to human weakness ; and when the
tenet is virtually given up, treat it as
if it were actually given up; and al-
ways consider it to be very p.ssible
that you yourself may have made
mistakes, and fallen into erroneous
opinions, as well as any other sect
to which you are opposed. If you put
on these dispositions, and this tenor of
mind, you cannot be guilty of any
religious fault, take what part you will
in the religious disputes which appear
to be coming on the world. If you
choose to perpetuate the restrictions

b4

248

A SEBMON ON CHRISTIAN CHARTTr.

npon jTonr feDow-oreatores, no one has
a right to call jon bigoted; if you
choose to do them away, no one has
any right to call yon lax and indif-
ferent : yon have done your utmost to
do right, and whether yon err, or do
not err, in yoiff mode of interpreting
the Christian religion, you show at
least that you have caaght its heavenly
spirit, — that you have put on, as the
dect of Grod, kindness, humbleneto of
mind, meekness, long-suffering, for-
bearing one another, and forgiving one
another.

I have thus endeavoured to lay be-
fore you the uses and aboses of this
day; and, having stated the great
mercy t>f God*s interference, and the
blessings this country has secured to
itself in resisting the errors and fol-
lies, and superstitions of the Catholic
Church, I have endeavoured that this
just sense of our own superiority should
not militate against the sacred princi-
ples of Christian charity. That charity
which I ask of others, I ask also for
myself. I am sure I am preaching
before those who will think (whether
they agree with me or not) that I
have spoken conscientiously, and from
good motives, and from honest feel-
ings, on a very difficult subject, — not
sought for by me, but devolving upon
me in the course of duty ; — in which I
should have been heartily ashamed of
myself (as you would have been
ashamed of me), if I had thought only
how to flatter and please, or thought
of anything but what I hope I always
do think of in the pulpit, — that I am
placed here by God to tell truth, and
to do good.

I shall conclude my sermon (ex-
tended, I am afraid, already to an
unreasonable length), by reciting to
you a very short and beautiful apo-
logue, taken from the Rabbinical
writers. It is, I believe, quoted by

Bishop Taylor in his *'Holy laving
and Dying." I have not now access
to that book, but I quote it to you
from memory, and should be made .
truly happy if yon would quote it to
others from memory also.

■'As Abraham was sitting in the
door of his' tent, there came unto him
a way&ring man ; and Abraham gave
him water for his feet, and set bread
before him. And Abraham said unto
him, ' Let us now worship the Ix)rd
our God before we eat of this bread.'
And the wayfaring man said unto
Abraham, ' I will not worship the Lord
thy God, for thy Grod is not my God ;
but I will worship my God, even the
God of my fathers.' But Abraham
i^as exceeding wroth; and' he rose up
to put the wayfaring man forth from
the door of his tent. And the voice
of the Lord was heard in the tent, —
Abraham ! Abraham f have I borne
with this man for threescore anil ten
years, and canst not thou bear with
him for one hour ? " *

* This beautiful Apologue is introduced
by Bishop Taylor in the second edition of
his Liberty of Prophesying. (See Bishop
Heber's Life of Bishop Taylor, vol. riii p.
232.) .

Bishop Taylor says, "I end with a stoiy
which I find in the Jeu^s Books." (The
story is ahnost word for word a translation
from the Persian poet, Saadi, in his poem of
the Bustan ; translated into Latin by Geoj^
Gentius. a Jew, and published by him at
Amsterdam in 1661. Taylor's first edition
of the Liberty of Prophesying was previous
to that date; his teoond edition was soon
c^fter it."]

Bishop Taylor adds, '*Upon this (saith
the story) Abraham fetched him back
again, and gave him hospital entertainment
and wise instruction." "Go thou/* sap
Bishop Tftirvlor, "and do likewise, and tfiy
charity will be rewarded by the God of
Abraham I" The original of Saadi ends
with the reprimand of the Almighty. Gen-
tius has added the subsec^uent sentence.

The Persian poet, Saadi, was born at Shi-
raz, A. H. 671 (a. d. 11»S). He died at Shi-
raz, A. H. 081 (a. d. 1313), aged 120 years.

SEEMON

ON THB

DUTIES OF THE QTJEEN.

[Preached at St. Paul's Cathedral.]

Bxsjia., TV, 81.

king, thy kingdom is depa/rtedfrom thee.

1 DO not think. I am getting out of the
fair line of duty of a Minister of the
Gospel, if, at the beginning of a new
reign, I take a short review of the
moral and religions state of the coun-
trj ; and point ont what those topics
are which deserve the most serious
consideration of a wise and a Chris-
tian people.

The death of a King is always an
awful lesson to mankind ; and it pro-
duces a more solemn pause, and
creates more profound reflection, than
the best lessons of the best teachers.

From the throne to the tomb —
wealth, splendour, flattery, all gone!
The look of favour — the voice of
power, no more ; — the deserted palace
— the wretched monarch on his fune-
iral bier — the mourners ready — the
dismal march of death prepared. Who
are we, and what are we? and for
what has God made us ? and why are
we doomed to this frail and unquiet
existence ? Who does not feel all
this ? in whose heart does it not pro-
voke appeal to, and dependence on
God? before whose eyes does it not
bring the folly .and the nothingness of
all things human?

But a good King must not go to his
grave without that reverence from the

people which his virtues deserved.
And I will state to you what those
virtues were, — state it to you honestly
and fairly ; for I should heartily de-
spise myself, if from this chair of truth
I could utter one word of panegyric of
the great men of the earth, which I
could not aver before the throne of
God.

The late Monarch, whose loss we
have to deplore, was sincere and
honest in his political relations ; he
put his trust really where he put his
trust ostensibly — and did not attempt
to undermine, by secret means, those
to whom he trusted publicly the con-
duct of aflairs ; and I must beg to
remind you that no vice and no virtue
are indifferent in a Monarch : human
beings are very imitative ; there is a
fashion in the higher qualities of our
minds, as there is in the lesser con-
siderations of life. It is by no means
indifferent to the morals of the people
at large, whether a tricking pertidious
king is placed on the throne of these
realms, or whether the sceptre is
swayed by one of plain and manly
character, walking ever in a straight
line, on the firm ground of truth, under
the searching eye of God.

The late King was of a sweet and
Christian disposition: he did not trea-
sure up little animosities, and indulge
in vindictive feelings : he had no ene-

SERMON ON THE DUTIES OF THE QUEEN.

250

mies bat the enemies of the coontrj ;
he did not make the memorj of a
King a fountain of wrath ; the feelings
of the individoal (where they reqniieid
any control) were in perfect subjec-
tion to the just conception he had
formed of his high duties ; and eyery
one near him found it wasagOTem^
ment of principle, and not of temper ;
not of caprice, not of malice couching
in high places, and watching an oppor-
tunity of springing on its yictim.

Our late Monarch had the good
nature of Christianity : he loved the
happiness of all the individuals about
him, and never lost an opportunity of
promoting it; and where the heart is
good, and the mind active, and the
means ample, this makes a luminous
and beautiful life, which gladdens the
nations, and leads them, and turns
men to the exercise of virtue, and the
great work of salvation.

We may honestly say of our late
Sovereign that he loved his country,
and was sensibly alive to its glory and
its happiness. When he entered into
his palaces he did not say, ** All this is
my birthright : I am entitled to it — it
is my due — how can I gain more
splendour? how can I increase all
the pleasures of the senses ? *' but he
looked upon it all as a memorial that
he was to repay by example, by atten-
tion, and by watchfulness over the
pubUc interests, the affectionate and
lavish expenditure of his subjects;
and this was not a decision of reason,
but a feeling which harried him away.
Whenever it was pointed out to him
that England could be made more
rich, or more happy, or rise higher in
the scale of nations, or be better guided
in the straight path of the Christian
faith, on all such occasions he rose
above himself; there was a warmth,
and a trath, and an honesty, which it
was impossible to mistake; the gates
of his heart were flung open, and that
heart throbbed and beat for the land
which his ancestors had rescued from
slavery, and governed with justice : —
but he is gone — and let fools praise
conquerors, and say the great Napo-
leon pulled down this kingdom, and
destroyed that army; toe will thank

God for a King who has derived his
quiet glory from the peace of his
realm, and who has founded his omrn.
happiness upcm the happiness of his
people.

But the world passes on, and a new-
order of things arises. Let us take a
short view of those duties which de-
volve upon the young Queen whom
Providence has placed over us — what
ideas she ought to form of her duties —
and on what points she should endea-
vour to place the glories of her reign.

First and foremost, I think, thenew
Queen should bend her mind to the
very serious consideration of educating^
the people.' Of the importance of this
I thmk no reasonable doubt can exist;
it does not in its effects keep pace
with the exaggerated expectations of
its injudicious advocates; but it pre-
sents the best chance of national im-
provement.

Beading and writing are mere in-
crease of power. They may be turned,
I admit, to a good or a bad pur-
pose ; but for sevend years of his life
the child is in your hands, and yon
may. give to that power what bias you
please : thou shalt not kill — thou shalt
not steal — thou shalt not bear false
witness : by how many fables, by how
much poetry, by how many beautifhl
aids of imagination, may not the fine
morality of the Sacred Scriptures be
engraven on the minds of the young ?
I believe the arm of the assassin may
be often stayed by the lessons of his
early life.. When I see the village
school, and the tattered scholars, and
the aged master or mistress teaching
the mechanical art of reading or writ-
ing, and thinking that they are teach-
ing that alone, I feel that the aged
instructor is protecting life, insuring
property, fencing the altar, guarding
the throne, giving space and liberty to
all the fine powers of man, and lifting
him up to his own place in the order of
Creation.

There are, I am sorry to say, many
countries in Europe which have taken
the lead of England in the great busi-
ness of education, and it is a thorough-
ly commendable and legitimate object
of ambition in a Sovereign to overtiike

SERMON ON THE DUTIES OF THE QUEEN.

them. The names, too, of malefactors,
and the nature of their crimes, are
subjected tp the Sovereign; — how is
it possible that a Sovereign, with the
fine feelings of youth, and with all the
gentleness of her sex, should not ask
herself, whether the human being whom
she dooms to death, or at least does not
rescue from death, has been properlv
warned in early youth of the horrors
of that crime, for which his life is for-
feited — "Did he ever receive any
education at all? — did a father and
mother watch over him — was he
brought to places of worship ? — was
the Word of God explained to him ? —
was the Book of Knowledge opened to
him ? — Or am I, the fountain of mercy,
the nursing-mother of my people, to
send a forsaken wretch from the streets
to the scaffold, and to prevent by un-
principled cruelty the evils of unprin-
cipled neglect?"

Many of the objections found against
the general education of the people
are utterly untenable; where all are
educated, education cannot be a source
of distinction, and a subject for pride.
The great source of labour is want ;
and as long as the necessities of life
call for labour, labour is sure to be
supplied. All these fears are foolish
and imaginary ; the great use and the
great importance of education properly
conducted is, that it creates a great
bias in favour of virtue and religion, at
a period of life when the mind is open
to all the impressions which superior
wisdom may choose to affix upon it :
the sum and mass of these tendencies
and inclinations make a good and vir-
tuous people, and draw down upon us
the blessing and protection of Al-
mighty God.

A second great object, which I hope
will be impressed upon the mind of this
Boyal Lady, is a rooted horror of war
— an earnest and passionate desire to
keep her people in a state of profound
peace. The greatest curse which can
be entailed upon mankind is a state of
war. All the atrocious crimes com-
mitted in years of peace — all that is
spent in peace by the secret corrup-
tions, or by the thoughtless extrava-
gance of nations, are mere trifles com-

251

pared with the gigantic evils which
stalk over the world in a state of war.
God is forgotten in war — every prin-
ciple of Christian charity trampled
upon — human labour destroyed — hu-
man industry extinguished — you see
the son, and the husband, and the
brother, dying miserably in distant
lands — you see the waste of human
affections — you see the breaking of
human hearts — you hear the shrieks
of widows and children after the battle
— and you walk over the mangled
bodies of the wounded calling for
death. I would say to that Boyal
child, Worship God by loving peace

— it is not your humanity to pity a
beggar by giving him food or raiment

— / can do that ; that is the charity
of the humble and the unknown —
widen you your heart for the more ex-
panded miseries of mankind — pity the
mothers of the peasantry who see their
sons torn away from their families —
pity your poor subjects crowded into
hospitals, and calling in their last
breath upon their distant country and
their young Queen — pity the stupid,
frantic folly of human beings who are
always ready to tear each other to
pieces, and to deluge the earth with
each other's blood ; this is your ex-
tended humanity — and this the great
field of your compassion. Extin-
guish in your heart the fiendish love
of military glory, from which your
sex does not necessarily exempt you,
and to which the wickedness of flat-
terers may urge you. Say upon your
deathbed, **I have made few orphans
in my reign — I have made few widows

— my object has been peace. I have
used all the weight of my character,
and all the power of my situation, to
check the irascible passions of man-
kind, and to turn them to the arts of
honest industry: this has been the
Christianity of my throne, and this the
gospel of my sceptre ; in this way I
have striven to worship my Redeemer
and ray Judge."

I would add (if any addition were
wanted as a part of the lesson to
youthful royalty), the utter folly of all
wars of ambition, where the object
sought for — if attained at all — is

SEEMON ON THE DUTIES OF THE QUEEN.

252

commonly attained at manifold its real
valae, and often wrested, after short
enjoyment, from its possessor, by the
combined indignation and just ren-
geance of the other nations of the
world. It is all misery, and folly, and
impiety and cruelty. The atrocities,
and horrors, and disgusts of war, have
never been half enough insisted upon
by the teachers of the people; but
the worst of evils and the greatest
of follies have been varnished over
with specious names, and the gigantic
robbers and murderers of the world
have been holden up, for their imita-
tion, to the weak eyes of youth. May
honest counsellors keep this poison
from the mind of the young Queen !
May she love what God bids, and do
what makes men happy I

I hope the Queen will love the
National Church, and protect it ; but
it must be impressed upon her mind,
that every sect of Christians have as
perfect right to the free exercise of
their worship as the Church itself — ,
that there must be no invasion of the
privileges of other septs, and no con-
temptuous disrespect of their feelings
— that the altar is the very ark and
citadel of freedom.

Some persons represent old age as
miserable, because it brings with it the
pains and infirmities of the body ; but
what gratification to the mind may not
old age bring with it in this country of
wise and rational improvement? I
have lived to see the immense improve-
ments of the Church of England — all
its powers of persecution destroyed —
its monopoly of civil ofSces expunged
from the book of the law, and all its
unjust and exclusive immunities le-
velled to the ground. The Church of
England is now a rational object of
love and admiration — it is perfectly
compatible with civil freedom — it is an
institution for worshipping God, and
not a cover for gratifying secular inso-
lence, and ministering to secular am-
bition. It will be the duty of those to
whom the sacred trust of instructing
our youthful Queen is intrusted, to
lead her attention to these great im-
provements in our religious establish-
ments ; and to show to her how possi-

ble, and how wise it is, to render the
solid advantages of a National Church
compatible with the civil rights of
those who cannot assent to its doctrines.

Then again, our youthful Ruler must
be very slow to believe all the exagge-
rated and violent abuse which religious
sects indulge in against each other.
She will find, for instance, that the
Catholics, the great object of our hor-
ror and aversion, have (mistaken as
they are) a great deal more to say in
defence of their tenets than those
imagine who indulge more in the lux-
ury of invective than in the labour of
inquiry — she will find in that sect,
men as enlightened, talents as splendid,
and probity as firm, as in our own
Church : and she will soon learn to
appreciate, at its just value, that exag-
gerated hatred of sects which paints
the Catholic faith (the religion of two-
thirds of Europe) as utterly incompa-
tible with the safety, peace, and order
of the world.

It will be a serious vexation to all
loyal hearts, and to all rationally pious
minds, if our Sovereign should fall
into the common error of mistaking
fanaticism for religion ; and in this
way fling an air of discredit upon real
devotion. It is, I am afraid, unques-
tionably the fault of the age, her yoath
and her sex do not make it more im-
probable, and the warmest efforts of
that description of persons will not be
wanting to gain over a convert so il-
lustrious, and so important Should
this take place, the consequences will
be serious and distressing — the land
will be inundated with hypocrisy —
absurdity will be heaped upon absurd-
ity — there will be a race of folly and
extravagancel for royal favour, and he
who is furthest removed from reason
will make the nearest approach to dis-
tinction ; and then follow the usual
consequences } a weariness and disgrust
of religion itself, and the foundation
laid for an age off impiety and infidel-
ity. Those, then, to whom these mat-
ters are delegated, will watch carefully
over every sign of this excess, and
guard from the mischievous intempe-
rance of enthusiasm those feelings, and
that understanding, the healthy state

SERMON ON THE DUTIES OP THE QUEEN.

253

of which bears so strongly and inti-
mately upon the happiness of a wl)ole
people.

Though I deprecate the bad effects
of fanaticism, I earnestly pray that
our young Sovereign may evince her-
self to be a person of deep religious
feeling: what other cure has she for
all the arrogance and vanity which her
exalted position must engender? for
all the flattery and falsehood with which
she must be surrounded ? for all the
sool-corrupting homage with which
she is met at every moment of her ex-
istence ? what other cure than to cast
herself down in darkness and solitude
before God — to say that she is dust
and ashes — and to call down the pity
of the Almighty upon her difScuIt and
dangerous life ? This is the antidote
of kings against the slavery and the
baseness which surround them : they
should think often of death — and the
folly and nothingness of the world, and
they should humble their souls before
the Master of masters, and the King
of kings ; praying to Heaven for wis-
dom and calm reflection, and for that
spirit of Christian gentleness which
exalts command into an empire of
justice, and turns obedience into a ser-
vice of love.

A wise man struggling with adver-
sity is said by some heathen writer to
be a spectacle on which the gods
might look down with pleasure : but
where is there a finer moral and reli-
gious picture, or one more deserving
of Divine favour, than that of which,
perhaps, we are now beginning to en-
joy the blessed reality ?

A young Queen at that period of
life which is commonly given up to
frivolous amusement, sees at once the
great principles by which she should
be guided, and steps at once into the
great duties of her station. The im-
portance of educating the lower orders
of the people is never absent from her
niind ; she takes up this principle at
the beginning of her life ; and in all
the change of servants, and in all the

struggle of parties, looks to it as a
source of permanent improvement. A
great object of her affections is the
preservation of peace ; she regards a
state of war as the greatest of all hu-
man evils; thinks that the lust of
conquest is not a glory, but a bad
crime ; despises the folly and miscal-
culations of war, and is willing to sa-
crifice everything to peace but the clear
honour of her land.

The patriot Queen, whom I am
painting, reverences the National
Church — frequents its worship, and
regulates her faith by its precepts;
but she withstands the encroachments,
and keeps down the ambition natural
to establishments, and by rendering the
privileges of the Church compatible
with the civil freedom of all sects, con-
fers strength \ipon, and adds duration
to, that wise and magnificent institu-
tion. And then this youthful Monarch,
profoundly but wisely religious, dis-
daining hypocrisy, and far above the
childish follies of false piety, casts her-
self upon God, and seeks from the
Gospel of his blessed Son a path for
her steps, and a comfort for her soul.
Here is a picture which warms every
English heart, and would bring all this
congregation upon their bended knees
before Almighty God to pray it may
be realised. What limits to the glory
and happiness of- our native land, if
the Creator should in his mercv have
placed in the heart of this Royal Wo-
man the rudiments of wisdom and
mercy; and if giving them time to
expand, and to bless our children's
children with her goodness, He should
grant to her a long sojourning upon
earth, and leave her to reign over us
till she is well stricken in years ! What
glory I what happiness I what joy !
what bounty of God ! I of course can
only expect to see the beginning of
such a splendid period ; but when I do
see it, I shall exclaim with the pious
Simeon, — "Lord, now lettest thou
thy servant depart in peace, for mine
eyes have seen thy salvation.**

A PRAYER.

On the Swnda/y after the Birth qf the then
Duke of Cornwall, Mr. Sydney Smith in-
troduced the foUounng into the Prayer
need at St. Paul's Cathedral b^ore the
Sermon,

** Wb pray also for that Infant of the
Royal Race whom in thy good Provi-
dence thou hast given us for our future
King. We beseech thee so to mould
his heart and fashion his spirit, that he
may be a blessing and not an evil to
the land of his birth. May he grow
in favour with man, by leaving to its

own force and direction the energy of
a free People ! May he grow in
favour with God, by holding the
Faith in Christ fervently and feelingly,
without feebleness, without fanaticism,
without folly! As he will be the first.
man in these realms, so may he be the
best ; — disdaining to hide bad actions
by high station, and endeayouring
always, by the example of a strict and
moral life, to repay those gifts which
a loyal people are so willing to spare
from their own necessities to a good
King."

FIEST LETTEE

TO

ARCHDEACON SINGLETON

ON THB

ECCLESIASTICAL COMMISSION.

1837.

My Dbar Sib,
As you do me ^e hononr to ask my
opiuion respecting the constitution and
proceedings of the Ecclesiastical Com-
mission, and of their conduct to the
Dignitaries of the Church, I shall write
to you without any reserve upon this
SDbject.

The first thing which excited my
BQrprise, was the Constitution of the
Commission. As the reform was to
comprehend every branch of Church-
men, Bishops, Dignitaries and Parochial
Clergymen, I cannot but think it would
have been much more advisable to have
Added to the Commission some mem-
bers of the two lower orders of the
Church — they would have supplied
that partial knowledge which appears
in so many of the proceedings of the
Commissioners to have been wanting
^they would have attended to those
interests (not episcopal) which appear
to have been- so completely overlooked
~-and they would have screened the
Commission from those charges of in-
instice and partiality which are now so
generally brought against it There
can be no charm in the name of Bishop
7- the man who was a Curate yesterday
^ a Bishop to*day. There are many

Prebendaries, many Hectors, and many
Vicars, who would have come to the
Reform of the Church with as much
integrity, wisdom, and vigour, as any
Bishop on the Bench ; and, I believe,
with a much stronger recollection that
all the orders of the Church were not
to be sacrificed to the highest; and that
to make their work respectable, and
lasting, it should, in all (even its mi-
nutest provisions), be founded upon
justice.

All the interests of the Church in
the Commutation of Tithes are en-
trusted to one parochial clergyman*;
and I have no doubt, from what I hear
of him, that they will be well protected.
Why could not one or two such men
have been added to the Commission,
and a general impression been created,
that Government in this momentous
change had a parental feeling for all
orders of men whose interests might
be affected by it? A Ministry may
laugh at this, and think if they culti-
vate Bishops, that they may treat the
other orders of the Church with con-
tempt and neglect; but I say, that to

* The Rev. Mr. Jones is the Commissioner
appointed by the Archbishop of Canterbury
to watch over the interests of the Church.

256

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

create a g^eneral impression of jastice, if
it be not what common honesty requires
from any Ministry, is what common
sense points oat to them. It b strength
and duration — it is the only power
which is worth having — in the straggle
of parties it gives victory, and is remem-
bered, and goes down to other times.

A mixture of different orders of
Clergy m the Commission woald at
least have secured a decent attention
to the representations of all; for of
seven communications made to the
Commission by Cathedrals, and in-
Tolving very serious representations
respecting high interests, six were
totally disregarded, and the receipt of
the papers not even acknowledged.

I cannot help thinking that the Com-
missioners have done a great deal too
much. Reform of the Church was
absolutely necessary — it cannot be
avoided, and ought not to be post-
poned; but I would have found out
what really gave offence, have applied
a remedy, removed the nuisance, and
done no more. I would not have operated
so largely on an old, and (I fear) a
decaying building. I would not, in
days of such strong political excite-
ment, and amidst such a disposition to
universal change, have done one thing
more than was absolutely necessary, to
remove the odium against the Estab-
lishment, the only sensible reason for
issuing any Commission at all; and
the means which I took to effect this
should have agreed as much as possible
with institutions already established.
For instance, the public were disgusted
with the spectacle of rich Prebendaries
enjoying large incomes, and doing little
or nothing for them. The real remedy
for this would have been to have com-
bined wealth and labour; and as each
of the present Prebendaries fell off, to
have annexed the stall to some large
and populous parish. A Prebendary
of Canterbury or of St. Paul's, in his
present state, may make the Church
unpopular; but place him as Rector
of a Parish, with 8000 or 9000 people,
and in a Benefice of little or no value,
he works for his wealth, and the
odium is removed. In like man-
ner the Prebends, which are not

the property of the Residentiaries,
might have been annexed to the
smallest livings of the neighbooihood
where the Prebendal estate was situated.
The interval which has elapsed since
the first furious demand for Beforai
would have enabled the Commissionera
to adopt a scheme of much greater
moderation than might perhaps hare
been possible at the first outbreak of
popular indignation against the Church ;
and this sort of distribution would have
given much more general satisfaction
than the plan adopted by Commis-
sioners; for though money, in the esti-
mation of philosophers, has no ear
mark, it has a very deep one in the
opinion of the multitude. The riches
of the Church of Durham were most
hated in the neighbourhood of Dnrbam;
and there such changes as I hare
pointed out would have been most
gladly received, and would have con-
ciliated the greatest favour to the
Church, lihe people of Kent cannot
see why their Kentish Estates, given
to the Cathedral of Canterbury, are
to augment livings in Cornwall.
The Citizens of London see some of
their ministers starving in the city,
and the profits of the extinguished
Prebends sent into Northumberland.
These feelings may be very unphiloso-
phical, but lliey are the feelings of thfl
mass; and to the feelings of the mas>
the Reforms of the Church ought to be
directed. In this way the evil would
have been corrected where it was most
seen and noticed. All patronage wonld
have been left as it was. One order
of the Church would not have plundered
the other. Nor would all the Ca-
thedrals in England have been sub-
jected to the unconciliating empire, and
unwearied" energy of one man.

Instead of this quiet and cautions
mode of proceeding, all is change,
fusion, and confusion. New Bishops,
new Dioceses, confiscated Prebends—
Clergymen changing Bishops, and
Bishops Clergymen — mitres in Man-
chester, Gloucester turned into Bristol.
Such a scene of revolution and com-
mutation as has not been seen since
the days of Ireton and Cromwell 1 and
the singohurity is» that all this has

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

257

been effected by men selected from
their age, their dignity, and their
known principles, and from whom the
considerate part of the community
expected all the cantion and calmness
which these high requisites seemed to
promise, and ought to have secured.

The plea of making a fund is utterly
untenable — the great object was not
to make a fund ; and there is the
mistake into which the Commission
hare fallen : the object was not to
add 10/. or 20/. per annum to a
thousand small livings, and to dimi-
nish inequalities in a ratio so trifling
that the public will hardly notice it ;
a very proper thing to do if higher
interests were not sacrificed to it, but
the great object was to remove the
causes of hatred from the Church, by
lessening such incomes as those of
Canterbury, Durham, and London,
exorbitantly and absurdly great — by
making idleness work — and by these
means to lessen the envy of laymen.
It is impossible to make a fund which
will raise the smaller livings of the
Church into anything like a decent
support for those who possess them.
The whole income of the Church,
episcopal, prebendal, and parochial,
divided among the Clergy, would not
give to each Clergyman an income
equal to that which is enjoyed by the
upper domestic of a great nobleman.
The method in which the Church has
been paid, and must continue to be
paid, is by unequal divisions. All the
enormous changes which the Com-
mission is making will produce a very
trifling difference in the inequality,
while it will accustom more and more
those enemies of the Church, who are
studying under their Right Rev.
Masters, to the boldest revolutions in
Ecclesiastical afiiurs. Out of 10,478
benefices, there are 297 of about 40/.
per annum value, 1629 at about 75/.,
and 1602 at about 125/. : to raise all
these benefices to 200/. per annum,
would require an annual sum of
371,293/. ; and upon 2878 of those
benefices there are no houses ; and
upon 1728 no houses fit for residence.
What diiferenoe in the apparent
inequalitv of the Church would this

VouIL

sum of 371,293/. produce, if it could
be raised ? or in what degree would it
lessen the odium which that inequality
creates ? The case is utterly hopeless ;
and yet with all their confiscations the
Commissioners are so far from being
able to raise the annual sum of
371,000/. that the utmost they expect
to gain is 130,000JL per annum.

It seems a paradoxical statement ;
but the fact is, that the respectability
of the Church, as well as<of the Bar, is
almost entirely preserved by the un-
equal division of their revenues. A
Bar of one hnndred lawyers travel the
Northern Circuit, enlightening provin-
cial ignorance, curing local partialities,
difi^Qsing knowledge, and dispensing
justice in their route : it is quite cer-
tain that all they gain is not equal to
all that they spend: if the profits were
equally divided there would not be six
and eight-pence for each person, and
there would be no Bar at all. At
present, the success of the leader
animates them all — each man hopes
to be a Scarlett or a Brougham — and
takes out his ticket in a lottery by
which the mass must infallibly lose,
trusting (as mankind are so apt to do)
to his good fortune, and believing that
the prize is reserved for him — disap-
pointment and defeat for others. So
it is with the clergy; the whole income
of the Church, if equally divided, would
be about 250/. for each minister.
Who would go into the Church and
spend 1200/. or 1500/. upon his educa-
tion, if such were the highest remune-
ration he could ever look to ? At
present, men are tempted into the
Church by the prizes of the Church,
and bring into that Church a great
deal of capital, which enables them to
live in decency, supporting themselves,
not with the money of the public, but
with their own money, which, but for
this temptation, would have been
carried into some retail trade. The
offices of the Church would then fall
down to men little less coarse and
ignorant than agricultural labourers —
the clergyman of the parish would soon
be seen in the squire's kitchen; and aU
this would take place in a country
where poverty is infamous.

S

258

PIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETOlJr.

la fact, nothing can be more nnjast
and ^dle than the reasoning of many
laymen upon Church matters. Yon
choose to have an Establishment —
God forbid you should choose other-
wise I and you wish to have men of
decent manners and good education as
the Ministers of that Establishment:
all this is very right :- but are you
willing to pay them as such men ought
to be paid? Are you willing to pay
to eac^h Clei^gyman, confining himself
to one spot, and giving up all his time
to the care of one parish, a 'salary of
500/. per annum ? To do this would
require three millions to be added to
the V present revenues of the Church ;
and such an expenditure is impossible !
What then remains, if you will have
a Clergy, and will not pay them
equitably and separately, than to pay
them unequally and by lottery? and
yet this very inequality, which secures
to you a respectable Clergy upon the
most economical terms, is considered
by laymen as a gross abuse. It is an
abuse, however, which they have not
the spirit to extinguish by increased
munificence to their Clergy, nor justice
to consider as the only other method
by which all the advantages of a
respectable Establishment can be pro-
cured ; but they use it at thd same
time as a topic for sarcasm and a
source of economy.

This, it will be said, is a Mammonish
view of the subject : it is sOj but those
who make this objection forget the im-
mense effect which Mammon produces
upon religion itself. Shall the Gospel
be preached by men paid by the State ?
shall these men be taken from the
lower orders, and be meanly paid ? shall
they be men of learning and educa-
tion ? and shall there be some magni-
ficent endowments to allure such men
into the Church? Which of these
methods is the best for diffusing the
rational doctrines of Christianity ?
Not in the age of the Apostles, not in
the abstract, timeless, nameless, place-
less land of the philosophers, but in
the year 1837, in the porter-brewing,
cotton-spinning, tallow-melting king-
dom of Great Britain, bursting with
opulence, and flying from poverty as

the greatest of human evils. Many
different answers may be given to these
questions ; but they are questions which,
not ending in Mammon, have a
powerful bearing on real religion, and
deserve the deepest consideration from
its disciples and friends. Let the com-
forts of the Clergy go for nothing.
Consider their state only as religion is
affected by it. If upon this principle I
am forced to allot to some an opulence
which my clevear friend the Examiner
would pronounce to be unapostoli-
cal, I cannot help it ; I must take
this people with all their follies, and
prejudices, and circumstances, and
carve out an establishment best suited
for them, however unfit for early
Christianity in barren and eonqaered
Judea.

Not only will this measure of the
Commission bring into the Church a
lower and worse educated set of men,
but it will have a tendency to make
the Clergy fanatical. You will have
a set of ranting, raving Pastors, who
will wage war against all the innocent
pleasures of life, vie with each other in
extravagance of zeal, and plague your
heart out with their nonsense and
absurdity : cribbage must be played
in caverns, and sixpenny whist take
refuge in the howling Wilderness. In
this way, low men, doomed to hopeless
poverty, and galled by contempt, will
endeavour to force themselves into
station and significance.

There is an awkward passage in the
memorial of the Church of Canterbaiy,
which deserves some consideration
from, him to whom it is directed. The
Archbishop of Canterbury, at his con-
secration, takes a solemn oath that he
will maintain the rights and liberties of
the Church of Canterbury ; as Chair-
man, however, of the New Commis-
sion, he seizes the patronage of that
Church, takes two-thirds of its Reve-
nues, and abolishes two-thirds of its
Members. That there is an answer to
this I am very willing to believe, bat
I cannot at present find out what it is ;
and this attack upon the Revenues
and Members of Canterbury is not
obedience tb an Act of Parliament,
but the very Act of Parliament, which

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

259

takes awaj, is recommended, drawn
up, and signed by the person who has
sworn he will never take away ; and
this little apparent inconsistency is not
confined to the Archbishop of Canter-
bury, but is shared equally by all the
Bishop. Commissioners, who have all
(unless I am grieyously mistaken)
taken similar oaths for the preser-
vation of their respective Ch&pters.
It wonld be more easy to see our war
out of this little embarrassment, if
some of the embarrassed had not un-
fortunately, in the parliamentary de-
bates on the Catholic Question, laid
the greatest stress upon the King's
oath, applauded the sanctity of Siq
monarch to the skies, rejected all
comments, called for the oath in its
plain meaning, and attributed the
safety of the English Church to the
solemn vow made by the King at the
altar to the Archbishops of Canterbury
and York, and the other Bishops. I
should be very sorry if this were not
placed on a clear footing, as fools will
be imputing to our Church the pia et
rdigiosa CaUiditas^ which is so com-
monly brought against the Catholics.

Urbem quam diount Romam, MeliboBe,

putavi
Btoltus ego huio nostrsB similem.

The words of Henry VIIL, in endow-
ing the Cathedral of Canterbuiy, are
thus given in the translation: — **We
therefore, dedicating the aforesaid
close, site, circle, and precinct to
the honour and glory of the Holy
and nndivided Trinity, Father, Son,
and Holy Spirit, have decreed that
a certain Cathedral and Metropolitan
Church, with one Dean, Presbyter,
and Twelve Prebendaries Presbyters;
these verily and for ever to serve
Almighty God shall be created, set
up, settled, and established; and the
same aforesaid Cathedral* and Metro-
politan Church, with one Dean, Pres-
byter, and Twelve Prebendaries Pres-
byters, with other Ministers necessary
for divine worship, hy the tenor of
these presents in reality, and plenitude
of force, we do create, set up, settle,
and establish, and do command to be
established and to be in perpetuity,
and inviolably 'maintained and upheld

by these presents." And this is the
Church, the rights and liberties of
which the Archbishop at his consecra-
tion swears to maintain. Nothing
can be more ill-natured among poli-
ticians, than to look back into Han-
sard's Debates, to see what has been
said by particular men upon parti-
cular occasions, and to contrast such
speeches with present opinions — and
therefore I forbear to introduce soihe
inviting passages upon taking oaths in
their plain and obvious sense, both in
debates on the Catholic Question and
upon that fatal and Mezentian oath
which binds the Irish to the English
Church.

It is quite absurd to see how all
the Cathedrals are to be trimmed to
an exact Procrustes pattern ; — quieta
movere is the motto of the Commis-
sion : — there is to be everywhere
a Dean and four Residentiaries; but
St. Paul's and Lincoln have at pre-
sent only three Residentiaries and
a Dean, who ofSdates in his turn as
a Canon: — a fourth must be added
to each. Why? nobody wants joiore
Prebendaries; St. Paul's and Lincoln
go on very well as they are. It is
not for the lack of Prebendaries, it. is
for idleness, that the Church of Eng-
land is unpopular; but in the lust of
reforming, the Commission cut and
patch .property as they would cut
figures in pasteboard. This little
piece of wanton change, however,
gives to two of the Bishops, who are
Commissioners as well as Bishops,
patronage of a thousand a year each;
and though I am willing not to con-
sider this as the cause of the re-
commendation, yet I must observe
it is not very common that the same
persons should bring in the verdict
and receive the profits of the suit.
No other Archdeacons are paid in
such a manner, and no other Bishops
out of the Commission have received
such a bonus.*

I must express my surprise that no-
thing in this Commission of Bishops,

* This extravagant pay of Archdeacons is
taken, remember, from that fund for the
augmentation of small Livings, for the es-
tablishment of which all the divisions and
I confiscations have been made.

S 2

260

FmST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

either in the Bill which has passed, or
iD the Report which preceded it, is
said of the duties of Bishops. A
Bishop is not now forced bj law to
be in his diocese, or to attend his
daty in Parliament — he may be en-
tirely absent from both; nor are there
wanting instances within these six
years where snch has been the case.
It would have been very easy to have
placed the repairs of Episcop^ Palaces
(as the concurrent leases of Bishops
are placed) under the superintendence
of Deans and Chapters; but though
the Bishop's bill was accompanied by
another bill, containing the strictest
enactments for the residence of the
Clergy, and some yeiy arbitrary and
unjust rules for the repair of their
houses, it did not appear upon the
face of the law that the Bishops had
any such duties to perform ; and yet
I remember the case of a bishop, dead
not six years ago, who was scarcely
ever seen in the House of Lords, or
in his diocese; and I remember well
also the indignation with which the
inhabitants of a great Cathedral town
spoke of the conduct of another Bishop
(now also deceased), who not only
never entered his palace, but turned
his horses into the garden. When
I mention these instances, I am not
setting myself up as the satirist of
Bishops. I think, upon the whole,
they do their duty in a very exem-
plary manner; but they are not, as
the late bills would have us to suppose,
impeccable. The Church Commis-
sioners should not have suffered their
reports and recommendations t9 paint
the other branches of the Church as
sach slippery transgredient mortals,
and to leave the world to imagine that
Bishops may be safely trusted to their
own goodness without enactment or
control.

This squabble about patronage is
said to be disgraceful. Those who
mean to be idle, and insolent, because
they are at peace, may look out of the
window and say, ** This is a disgrace-
ful squabble between Bishops and
Chapters;'* but those who mean to be
just should ask. Who begins f the real
disgrace of the squabble is in the |

attack, and not in the defence. If any
man put his hand into my pocket to
take my property, am I disgraced if I
prevent him? Churchmen are ready
enough to be submissive to their supe-
riors; but were they to submit to a
spoliation so gross, accompanied with
ignominy, and degradation, and to
bear all this in submissive silence;—
to be accused of Nepotism by Nepo-
tists, who were praising themselves
indirectly by the accusation, and be-
nefiting themselves directly by the
confiscation founded on it; — the real
disgrace would have been to have
submitted to this: and men are to
be honoured, not disgraced, who come
forth contrary to their usual habits, to
oppose those masters, whom, in com-
mon seasons, they would willingly
obey; but who, in this matter, have
tarnished their dignity, and forgotten
what they owe to themselves and to us.

It is a very singular thing that the
law always suspects Judges, and never
suspects Bishops. If there be any way
in which the partialities of the Judge
may injure laymen, the subject is
fenced round with all sorts of jea-
lousies, and enactments, and prohi-
bitions — all partialities are guarded
against, and all propensities watched.
Where Bishops are concerned, acts of
Parliament are drawn up for beiogs
who can never possibly be polluted by
pride, prejudice, passion, or interest
Not otherwise would be the case with
Judges, if they, like the heads of the
Church, legislated for themselves.

Then comes the question of patron-
age: can anything be more flagrantly
unjust, than that- the patronage of
Cathedrals should be taken away and
conferred upon the Bishops? I do
not want to go into a long and tire-
some history of Episcopal Nepotism;
but it is notorious to iJ^ that Bishops
confer their patronage upon their sons,
and sons-in-law, and all their relations;
and it is really quite monstrous in
the face of the world, who see this
every day, and every hour, to tnm
round upon Deans and Chapters, and
to say to them, ** We are credibly in-
formed that there are instances in yonr
Chapters where preferment has not

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

261

been given to the most learned men
Toa can find, bat to the sons and bro«
thers of ^sorae of the Prebendaries.
These things must not be — we mnst
ake these Benefices into our own
keeping;" and this is the language of
men swarming themselves with sons
and daughters, and who, in enumerat-
ing the advantages of their stations,
have always spoken of the opportuni-
ties of providing for their families as
the greatest and most important It
is, I admit, the duty of every man, and
of everybody, to present the best man
that can be found to any living of
which he is the Patron ; but if this duty
has been' neglected, it has been ne^
glected by Bishops quite as much as
by Chapters; and no man can open
the '* Clerical Guide,'' and read two
pages of it, without seeing that the
Bench of Bishops are the last persons
from whom any remedy of this evil is
to be expected.

The legislature has not always taken
the same view of the comparative trust-
worthiness of Bishops and Chapters as
is taken by the Commission. Bishops*
leases for years are for twenty-one
years, renewable every seven. When
seven years are expired, if the present
tenant will not renew, ibe Bishop may
grant a concurrent lease. How does
his Lordship act on such occasions ?
He generally asks two years' income
for the renewal, when Chapters, not
having the privilege of granting such
concurrent leases, ask only a year and
a half; and if the Bishop's price is not
given, he puts a son, or a daughter, or
a trustee, into the estate, and the price
of the lease deferred is money saved
for his family. But unfair and exor-
bitant terms may be asked by his Lord-
ship, and the tenant may be unfairly
dispossessed ; therefore, the legislature
enacts that all those concurrent leases
must be countersigned by the Dean
and Chapter of the diocese — making
them the safeguards against Episcop^
rapacity ; and, as I hear from others,
not making them so in vain. These
sort of laws do not exactly correspond
with the relative views taken of both
parties by the Ecclesiastical Comniis-
sion. This view of Chapters is of course

overlooked by a Commission of Bishops,
just as all mention of bridles would be
omitted in a meeting of horses; but in
this view Chapters might be made emi-
nently useful. In what profession, too,
are there no gradations? Why is the
Church of England to be nothing but
a collection of Beggars and Bishops —
the Right Reverend Dives in the palace,
and Lazarus in orders at the gate, doc-
tored by dogs, and comforted with
crumbs ?

But to take away the patronage of
existing Prebendaries is objectionable
for another class of reasons. If it is
right to take away the patronaget>f my
Cathedral and to give it to the Bishop,
it is at least unjust to do so with my
share of it during my life. Society
have a right to improve, or to do what
they think an improvement, but then
they have no right to do so suddenly,
and hastily to my prejudice ! After
securing to me certain possessions by
one hundred statutes passed in six'
hundred years — after having clothed
me in fine garments, and conferred
upon me pompous names, they have
no right to turn round ifpon me all of
a sudden, and to say, Ton are not a
Dean nor a Canon-Residentiary, but a
vagabond and an outcast, and a mor-
bid excrescence upon society. This
would not be a reform, but the grossest
tyranny and oppression. If a man can-
not live under the canopy of ancient
law, where is he safe ? how can he see
his way, or lay out his plan of life ?

Dubitant homines serere atque impendere
cams.

Ton tolerated for a century the
wicked traffic in slaves, legislated for
that species of property, encouraged it
by premiums, defended it in your Courts
of Justice — ^West Indians bought, and
sold, trusting (as Englishmen always
ought to trust) in Parliaments. Women
went to the altar, promised that they
should be suppcHrted by that property ;
and children were bom to it, and young
men were educated with it : but God
touched the hearts of the English peo-
ple, and they would have no slaves.
The scales fell from their eyes, and they
saw the monstrous wickedness of the

8 3*

262

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

traffic; but then thej said, and said
magnificentlj, to the West Indians,
*' We mean to become wiser and better,
but not at your expense ; the loss shall
be ours, and we will not involve you in
ruin, because we are ashamed of our
former cruelties, and have learnt a
better lesson of humanity and wisdom.**
And this is the way in which improving
nations ought to act, and this is the
distinction between reform and revo-
lution.

Justice is not changed by the mag-
nitude or minuteness of the subject.
The old Cathedrals have enjoyed their
patronage for seven hundred years, and
the new ones since the time of Henry
VIII. ; which latter period even gives
a much longer possession than ninety-
nine out of a hundred of the legislators,
who are called upon to plunder us,
can boast of for their own estates.
And these rights, thus sanctioned, and
hallowed by time, are torn from their
present possessors without the least
warning or preparation, in the midst of
all that fever of change which has
seized upon the people, and which
frightens men to the core of their hearts;
and this spoliation is made, not by low
men rushing into the plunder of the
Church and State, but by men of ad-
mirable and unimpeached character in
all the relations of life — not by rash
men of new politics, but by the ancient
conservators of ancient law — by the
Archbishops and Bishops of the land,
high olScial men, invented and created,
and put in palaces to curb the lawless
changes and the mutations, and the
madness of mankind ; and, to crown
the whole, the ludicrous is added to the
unjust, and what they take from the
other branches of the Church they
confer upon themselves.

Never dreaming of such sudden re-
volutions as these, a Prebendary brings
up his son to the Church, and spends
a large sum of money in his education,
which perhaps he can ill afford. His
hope is (wicked wretch !) that accord-
ing to the established custom of the
body to which he (immoral man !) be-
longs, the chapter will (when his turn
arrives), if his son be of fair attainments
and good character, attend to his ne-

farious recommendation, and conier the
living upon the young man ; and in an
instant all his hopes are destroyed, and
he finds his preferment seized upon,
under the plea of public good, by a
stronger churchman than himself. I
can call this by no other name than
that of tyranny and oppression. I
know very well that this is not the
theory of patronage; but who does
better ? — do individual patrons ? — do
Colleges who give in succession? —
and as for Bishops, lives there the man
so weak, and foolit^, so little observant
of the past, as to believe (when this
tempest of purity and perfection has
blown over) that ihe name of Blomfield
will not figure in those benefices from
which the names of Copleston, Blom-
berg, Tate, and Smith, have been so
virtuously excluded? I have no desire
to make odious comparisons between
the purity of one set of patrons and
another, but they are forced upon me
by the injustice of the Commissioners.
I must either make such comparisons,
or yield up, without remonstrance,
those rights to which I am fairly en-
titled.

It may be said that the Bishops will
do better in future ; that now the pvbHc
eye is upon them, they will be shamed
into a more lofty and antinepotic spirit;
but, if the argument of past superiority
be g^ven up, and the hope of fatare
amendment resorted to, why may we
not improve as well as our masters ?
but the Commission say, ** These ex-
cellent men (meaning themselves) have
promised to do better, and we ha?e an
implicit confidence in their word : we
must have the patronage of the Cathe-
drals.** In the meantime we are ready
to promise as well as the Bishops.

With regard to that common news-
paper phrase the public eye — there's
nothing (as the Bench well know) more
wandering and slippery than the public
eye. In five years hence the public eye
will no more see what description of
men are promoted by Bishops, than it
will see what Doctors of Law are pro-
moted by the Turkish Uhlema; and
at the end of this period (snch is the
example set by the Commission), the
public eye turned in every direction

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON. 263

tion. Now here were a great mass of
Clergy naturally alive to the emolu-
ments of their profession, and not
knowing which way to look or stir,
because they depended so entirely
upon the will of one person. Not
otherwise is it with a very Whig
Bishop, or a very Tory Bishop : but
the worst case is that of a superannu-
ated Bishop: here the preferment is
given away, and must be given away
by wives and daughters, or by sons, or
by butlers, perhaps, and valets, and
the poor dying Patron's paralytic
hand is guided to the signature of
papers, the contents of which he is
utterly unable to comprehend. In all
such cases as these, the superiority of
Bishops as Patrons will not assist that
violence which the Commissioners
have committed upon the patronage of
Cathedrals.

I never heard that Cathedrals had
sold the patronage of their preferment;
such a practice, however, is not quite
unknown among the higher orders of
the Church. When the Archbishop of
Canterbury consecrates an inferior
Bishop, he* marks some piece of pre-
ferment in the gift of the Bishop as
his own. This is denominated an
option ; and when the preferment falls,
it is not only in the gift of the Arch-
bishop, if he is alive, but in the gift of
his representatives if he is not. It is
an absolute chattel, which, like any
other chattel, is part of the Arch-
bishop^s assets ; and if he died in debt,
might be taken, and sold, for the
benefit of his creditors — ^and within the
memory of man such options have
been publicly sold by auction — and if
the present Archbishop of Canterbury
were to die in debt to-morrow, such
might be the fate of his options. What
Archbishop Hoore did with his options
I do not know, but the late Arch-
bishop Sutton very handsomely and
properly left them to the present — a
bequest, however, which would not
have prevented such options from
coming to the hammer, if Archbishop
Sutton had not cleared off, before his
death, those incumbrances which at
one period of his life sat so heavily
upon him.

84

may not be able to see any Bishops at
all

In many instances. Chapters are
better patrons than Bishops, because
their preferment is not given ea^clu-
sively to one species of Incumbents. I
have a diocese now in my private eye
which has undergone the following
changes. The first of three Bishops
whom I remember was a man of care-
less easy temper, and how patronage
went in those early days may be conjec-
tured by the following letters — which
are not his, but serve to illustrate a
system: —

THE BISHOP TO LORD A .

My dear Lord,
I have noticed with groat pleasure the
behaviour of your Lotdship's second son,
and am most happy to have it in my power
to offer to him the living of • • *. He will
find it of considerable value; and there is,
I understand, a very good hou^e upon it,
ftc&c.

This is to confer a living upon a
man of real merit out of the family ;
into which family, apparently sacrificed
to the public good, the living is brought
back by the second letter :-•—

THE SAME TO THE SAME A TEAR
APTER.

My dear Lord,
WUl you excuse the Uberty I take in so-
liciting promotion for my grandson ? He is
an officer of great skill and gallantly, and
can Ining the most ample testimonials from
some of the best men in the profession :
the Arethusa fHgate is, I understand, about
to be commissioned ; and if, &c. &c.

Now I am not saying that hundreds
of Prebendaries have not committed
sucli enormous and stupendous crimes
as this (a declaration which wiU fill
the Whig Cabinet with horror) ; all
that I mean to contend for is, that such
is the practice of Bishops quite as
much as it is of inferior Patrons.

The second Bishop was a decided
enemy of Calvinistical doctrines, and
no Clergyman so tainted had the
slightest chance of preferment in his
diocese

The third Bishop could endure no
man whose principles were not strictly
Calvinistic, and who did not give to
the Articles that kind of interpreta-

264

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

What the present Archhishop means
to do with them, I am not informed.
They are not alluded to in the Chnrch
Returns, though they must be worth
some thousand pounds. The Commis-
sioners do not seem to know of their
existence — ^at least they are profoundly
silent on the subject ; and the bill
which passed through Parliament in
the sunmier for the regulation of the
Emoluments of Bishops does not make
the most distant allusion to them.
When a parallel was drawn between
two species of patrons — which ended
in the confiscation of the patronage of
Cathedrals — when two Archbishops
helped to draw the parallel, and pro-
fited by the parallel, I hare a perfect
right to -^tate this corrupt and nn-
a^Iished practice of their own sees —
a practice which I nerer heard charged
against Deans and Chapters.*

I do not mean to imply, in the most
remote degree, that either of the pre-
sent Archbishops have sold their op-
tions, or ever thought of it. Purer and
more high-minded gentlemen do not
exist, nor men more utterly incapable
of doing anything unworthy of their
high station ; and I am convinced the
Archbishop of Canterbury f will imi-
tate or exceed the munificence of his
predecessor : but when twenty-four
public bodies are to be despoiled of
their patronage, we must look not only
to present men, but historically, to see
how it has been administered in times
of old, and in times also recently past;
and to remember, that at this moment,
when Bishops are set up as the most
admirable dispensers of patronage — as
the only persons fit to be intrusted
with it — as Marvels, for whom law,

* Can anything be more shabby in a Go-
vernment legislating iipon Chiurch abuses,
than to paas over such scandals as these
existing m high places ? Two years have
passed, and they are unnoticed.

t The options of the Archbishop of York
are comparatively trifling. I never heard,
at any period, that they have been sold;
but they remain, like those of Gantorbury,
in the absolute poasession of the Arch-
bishop's representatives after his death.
I will answer for it that the present Arch-
bishop will do everything with them which
becomes his high station and high charac-
ter. They ought to be abolishecTby Act of
ParUament.

and justice, and ancient possessions,
ought to be set aside, that this patron-
age (very valuable because selected
from the whole diocese) of the two
heads of the Chwich is liable to all the
accidents of succession — that it may
fall into the hands of a superannuated
wife, of a profligate son, of a weak
daughter, or a rapacious creditor,—
that it may be brought to the hammer,
and publicly bid for at an auction, like
all the other chattels of the palace; and
that such have been tbb indignities to
which this optional patronage has been
exposed, from the earliest days of the
Church to this moment. Truly, men
who live in houses of glass (especially
where the panes are so large) ought
not to fling stones ; or if they do, they
should be especially careful at whose
head they are flung.

And then the patronage which is
not seized — the patronage which the
Chapter is allowed to present to its
own body — m^ be divided without
their consent Can anything be more
thoroughly lawless, or unjust, than
this — that my patronage daring my
life shall be divided wi3iout my con-
sent ? How do my rights during my
life differ from those of a lay patron,
who is tenant for life? and upon what
principle of justice or common sense is
his patronage protected from the Com-
missioners' dividing power to which
mine is subjected? That one can sell,
and the other cannot sell, the next
presentation, would be bad reasoning
if it were good law ; but it is not
law, for an Ecclesiastical Corporation,
aggregate or sole, can sell a next pre-
sentation as legally as a lay life-tenant
can do. They have the same power
of selling as laymen, but they never do
so ; that is, they dispense their pa-
tronage with greater propriety and
delicacy, which, in the estimate of the
Commissioners, seems to make their
right weaker, and the reasons for
taking it away more powerful.

Not only are laymen guarded by
the same act which gives the power of
dividing livings to the Commissioners,
but Bishops are also guarded. The
Commissioners may divide the livings
of Chapters without their consent; but

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

265

before they can touch the living of a
Slshop, his consent must be obtained.
It seems, after a few of those examples,
to become a little clearer, and more
intelligible, why the appointment of
any other Ecclesiastics than Bishops
'was so disagreeable to the Bench.

Hie reasoning then is this : If a
good living be vacant in the patronage
of a Chapter, they will only think of
conferring it on one of their body or
their friends. If such a living fall to
the gift of a Bishop, he will totally
overlook the interests of his sons and
daughters, and divide the living into
small portions for the good of the
public ; and with these sort of anilities,
Whig leaders, whose interest it is to
lull the Bishops into a reform, pretend
to be satisfied ; and upon this intole-
rable nonsense they are not ashamed
to justify spiliation.*

■ A division is set up between public
and private patronage, and it is pre-
tended that one is holden in trust for
the public, the other is private property.
This is mere theory — a slight film
thrown over convenient injustice.
Henry VIIL gave to the Duke of
Bedford much of his patronage. Ro-
ger de Hoveden gave to the Church
of St. Paul's much of their patronage
before the Russells were in existence.
The Duke has the legal power to give
his preferment to whom he pleases —
so have we. We are both under the
same moral and religious restraint to
administer that patronage properly —
the trust is precisely the same to both:
and if the public good require it, the
power of dividing livings without the
consent of patrons should be given in
all instances, and not confined as a
mark of infamy to Cathedrals alone.
This is not the real reason of the
difference : Bishops are the active
Members of the Commission— they
do not choose that their own patron-
age should be meddled with, and they
know that the Laity would not allow
for a moment that their livings should
be pulled to pieces by Bishops ; and

* These reasonings have had their effect,
and many early acts of injustice of the
Contihission have been subsequently cor-
rected.

that if such a proposal were made,
there would be more danger of the
Bishop being pulled to pieces than the
living. The real distinction is, between
the weak and the strong — between
those who have power to resist en-
croaehments, and those who have not
This is the reason why we are selected
for experiment, and so it is with all
the bill from beginning to end. There
is purple and fine linen in every line
of it.

Another strong objection to the
dividing power of the Commission is
this: According to the printed bill
brought forward last session, if the
living be not taken by some members
of the body, it lapses to the Bishop.
Suppose then the same person to be
Bishop and Commissioner, he breaks
the living into little pieces as a Com-
missioner, and after it is rejected in its
impoverished state by the Chapter, he
gives it away as Bishop of the diocese.
The only answer that is given to such
objections is, the impeceahUity of Bisk'
ops; and upon this principle the whole
bill has been constructed : and here is
the great mistake about Bishops. They
are, upon the whole, very good and
worthy men ; but they are not (as
many ancient ladies suppose) wholly
exempt from human infirmities : they
have their malice, hatred, uncharit-
ableness, persecution, and interest like
other men ; and an Administration
who did not think it more magnificent
to laugh at the lower Clergy, than to
protect them, should suffer no Ecclesi-
astical bill to pass through Parliament
without seriously considering how its
provisions may affect the happiness
of poor Clergymen pushed into living
tombs, and pining in solitude —

Yates procul atque in sola relegant
Fascua, post montem oppositum* et tranS
flumina lata.

There is a practice among some
Bishops, which may as well be men-
tioned here as anywhere else, but
which I think cannot be too severely
reprobated. They send for a Clergyman,
and insist upon his giving evidence
respecting the character and conduct
of his neighbour. Does he hunt? Does

266

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETOH.

be shoot ? Is he in debt ? Is he tem-
perate ? Does he attend to his parish ?
&c. &c. Now what is this bat to des-
troy for all Clerg^ymen the very elements
of social life— to put an end to all con-
fidence between man and man — and
to disseminate among gentlemen, who
are bound to live in concord, every
feeling of resentment, hatred, and sus-
picion ? bat the very essence of tyranny
is to act as if the finer feelings^ like
the finer dishes, wefe delicacies only
for the rich and great, and that little
people have no taste for them and no
right to them. A good and honest
Bishop (I thank God there are many
who deserve that character 1) ooght to
suspect himself, and carefully to watch
his own heart. He is all of a sadden
derated from being a tutor, dining at
an early hour with his pupil, (and oe-
casionally, it is believed, on cold meat,)
to be a spiritual Lord ; he is dressed
in a magnificent dress, decorated with
a title, flattered by Chaplains, and
surrounded by little people looking up
for the things which he has to give
away ; and Siis often happens to a
man who has had no opportunities of
seeing the world, whose parents were
in very humble life, and who has given
up all his thoughts to the Frogs of
Aristophanes and the Targum of On-
kelos. How is it possible that such a
man should not lose his head ? that
he should not swell ? that he should
not be guilty of a thousand follies, and
worry and tease to death (before he
recovers his common sense) a hundred
men as good, and as wise, and as able
as himself ? *

The history of tbe division of Ed-
monton has, I understand, been re-
peatedly stated in the Commission —
and told as it has been by a decided
advocate, and with no sort of evidence
called for on the other side of the
question, has produced an unfair im-
pression against Chapters. The his-
tory is shortly this: — Besides the

* Since writing this, and after declining
the living for myself, I have had the i>lea-
sure of seeing it presented in an undivided
tate to my amiable and excellent friend,
Mr. Tate, who, after a long life of moods
and tenses, has acquired (as he has de-
served) ease and opnlenoe in his old age.

Mother Church of Edmonton, there
are two Chapels — Southgate and
Winchmore Hill ChapeL Winchmore
Hill Chapel was built by the Society
for building Churches, upon the same
plan as the portions of Marylebono
are arranged : the Clergyman was to
be remunerated by the lease of the pews,
and if Curates with talents for preach-
ing had been placed there, they might
have gained 200iL per annmn. Though
men of perfectly respectable and hon-
ourable characteTt they were not en-
dowed with this sort of talent, and
they gained no more than from 90/. to
1 00/. per annum. The Bishop of London
applied to the Cathedral of St. Paul's
to consent to 250/. per annum, in ad-
dition to the proceeds from the letting
of the pews, or that proportion of the
whole of the value of the living should
be allotted to the chapel of ^inchmore ;
and at the same time we received an
application from the chapel at South-
gate, that another considerable portion,
I forget what, but I believe it to have
been rather less (perhaps 200/.), should
be allotted to them, and the whole
livingseveredintothree parishes. Nq^
the living of Edmonton is about 1350/,
per annum, besides surplice fees ; bat
this 1350/1 depends upon a Com Bent
of lOs, StL per bushel, present valuation,
which at the next valuation would, in
the opinion of eminent land surveyors,
whom we consulted, be reduced to about
68, per bushel, so that the living, con-
sidering the reduction also of all vo-
luntary ofierings to the Church, would
be reduced one half, and this half was
to be divided into three, and one or
two Curates (two Curates by the pre-
sent biU) to be kept by the Vicar of
the old Church ; and thus three cle-
rical beggars were, by the activity of
the Bishop of London, to be established
in a district where flie extreme dear-
ness of all provisions is the plea for
making the See of London double ia
valtie to that of any Bishopric in the
country. To this we declined to agree ;
and this, heard only on one side, with
the total omission of the changing valae
of the Benefice from the price of com,
has most probably been the parent of
the clause in question. The right core

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

267

for .this and all similar cases would be,
to give the Bishop a power of allotting
to such Chapels as high a salary as to
any other Curate in the diocese, taking,
as part of that salary, whatever was
received from the lease of the pews,
and to this no reasonable man could
or would object : but this is not enough
— all must bow to one man — *' Chap-
ters must be taught submission. No
pamphlets, no meeting of independent
Prebendaries, to remonstrate against
the proceedings of their superiors —
no opulence and ease but mine.**

Some effect was produced also upon
the Commission, by the evidence of a
Prelate who is both Dean and Bishop*,
and who gave it as his opinion, that
the patronage of Bishops was given
upon better principles than that of
Chapters, which, translated into fair
English, is no more than this — that
the said witness, not meaning to mis-
lead, but himself deceived, has his own
way entirely in his diocese, and can
only have it j)artially in his Chapter.

There is a rumour that these reason-
ings, with which they were assailed
from so many quarters in the last
Session of Parliament, have not been
without their effect, and that it is the
intention of the Commissioners only to
take away the patronage from the Ca-
thedrals exactly in proportion as the
numbers of their Members are reduced.
Such may be the intention of the Com-
missioners; but as that intention has
not been publicly notified, it depends
only upon report; and the Commis-
sioners have changed their minds so
often, that they may alter their inten-
tions twenty times again before the
meeting of Parliament. The whole of
my observations in this letter are
grounded upon their bills of last year
— which Lord John Russell stated his
intention of re-introducing at the be-
ginning of this Session. If they have
any new plans, they ought to have
published them three months ago —
and to have given to the Clergy ai;i
ample opportunity of considering them ;

* This prelate stated it as his opinion to
the Oommission, that in future all Prelates
ought to declare that they held their pa-
tronage in trust for the public

but this they .take the greatest care
never to do. The pc^cy of the Go-
vernment and of the Commissioners
is to hurry their bills through with
such rapidity, that very little time is
given to those who suffer by them for
consideration and remonstrance, and
we must be prepared for the worst
beforehand. Tou are cashiered and
confiscated before yon can look about
you — if you leave home for six weeks,
in these times, yon find a Commissioner
in possession of your house and office.
A report has reached my ears, that
though all other Cathedrals are to re-
tain patronage exactly equal to their
reduced numbers, a separate measure
of justice is to be used for St. PauFs ;
that our numbers are to be augmented
by a fifth ; and our patronage reduced
by a third ; and this immediately on
the passing of the bilL That the
Bishop of Exeter, for instance, is to
receive his augmentation of patronage
only in proportion as the Prebendaries
die off, and the Prebendaries themselves
will, as long as they live, remain in the
same proportional state as to patron-
age ; and that when they are reduced
to four (their stationary number), they
will retain one-third of all the patron-
age the twelve now possess. Whether
this be wise or not, is a separate ques-
tion, but at least it is just ; the four
who remain cannot with any colour of
justice complain that they do not retain
all the patronage which was divided
among twelve ; but at St. Paul's not
only are our numbers to be augmented
by a fifth, but the patronage of fifteen
of our best livings is to be instantly
conferred upon the Bishop of London.
This little episode of plunder involves
three separate acts of gross injustice:
in the first plaice, if only our numbers
had been augmented by a fifth (in it-
self a mere bonus to Commissioners),
our patronage would have been re-
duced one fifth in value. Secondly,
one third of the preferment is to be
taken away immediately, and these
two added together make eight fif-
teenths, or more than one half of our
whole patronage. So that when all the
Cathedrals are reduced to their re-
formed numbers, each Cathedral will

268

FIBST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

enjoy preciselj the same proportion of
patronage as it now does, and each
member of every other Cathedral will
have precisely the same means of pro-
moting men of merit or men of his
own family, as is now possessed ; while
less than half of these advantages will
remain to St. Paulas. Thirdly, if the
Bishop of London were to wait (as all
the odier Bishops by this arrangei^ent
most wait) till the present patrons die
of^ the injustice would be to the fntnre
body ; bat by this scheme, every pre-
sent incumbent of St. FauVs is instantly
deprived of eight fifteenths of his pa-
tronage ; while every other member of
every other Cathedral (as far as pa-
tronage is concerned) remains precisely
in the same state in which he was be-
fore. Why this blow is levelled against
St. Paul's I cannot conceive ; still less
can I imagine why the Bishop of Lon-
don is not to wait, as all other Bishops
are forced to wait, for the death of the
present Patrons. There is a reason,
indeed, for not waiting, by which (had
I to do with a person of less elevated
character than the Bishop of London)
I would endeavour to explain this pre-
cipitate seizure of patronage — and
that is, that the livings assigned to him
in this remarkable scheme are all very
valuable, and the incumbents all very
old. But I shall pass over this scheme
as a mere supposition, invented to
bring the Commission into disrepute, a
scheme to which it is utterly impos-
sible the Commissioners should ever
affix their names.

I should have thought, if the love of
what is just had not excited the Com-
missioner-Bishops, that the ridicule of
men voting such comfortable things to
themselves as the Prebendal patronage,
would have alarmed them ; but they
want to sacrifice with other men's he-
catombs, and to enjoy, at the same
time, the character of great disinter-
estedness, and the luxury of unjust
spoliation. It was thought necessary
to make a fund ; and the Prebends in
the gift of the Bishops* were appro-

* The Bishops have, however, secured for
themselves all the Livings which were in
the separate gifts of Prebenaaries and
Deans, and they have received from the

priated to that purpose. The Bishops
who consented to this have then made a
great sacrifice: — true, but they have
taken more out of our pockets than
they have disbursed from their own.
Where then is the sacrifice? They
must either give back the patronage or
the martyrdom : if they choose to be
martyrs — which I hope they will do
— let them give us back our patronage:
if they prefer the patronage, they must
not talk of being martyrs — they cannot
effect this double sensuality and com-
bine the sweet flavour of rapine with
the aromatic odour of sanctity.

We are told, if you agitate these
questions among yourselves, you will
have the democratic Philistines come
down upon you, and sweep you all
away together. Be it so ; I am quite
ready to be swept away when the time
comes. Everybody has their favourite
death : some delight in apoplexy, and
others prefer marasmus. I would in*
finitely rather be crushed by democrats,
than, under the plea of the public good,
be mildly and blandly absorbed by
Bishops.

I met the other day, in an old Dutch
Chronicle, with a passage so apposite
to this subject, that, though it is some-
what too light for the occasion, I cannot
abstain from quoting it. There was a
great meeting of all the Clergy at
Dordrecht, and the Chronicler thus
describes it, which I give in the lan-
guage of the translation: — *'And
there was great store of Bishops in the
town, in their robes goodly to behold,
and all the great men of the State were
there, and folks poured in in boats on
the Meuse, the Merve, the Rhine, and
the Linge, coming fi^m the Isle of
Beverlandt and I^elmond, and frt>m
all quarters in the Bailiwick of Dort ;
Arminians and Gomarists, with the
firiends of John Bameveldt and of
Hugh Grote. And before my Lords
the Bishops, Simon of Gloucester, who
was a Bishop in those parts, disputed

Crown a veiy large contribution of valuable
patronage; why or wherefore is known only
to the unfathomable wisdom of Ministers.
The glory of martyrdom can be confined
only at best to the JSishope of the old Oar
thedrals, for there are scarcely any sepente
Prebends in the new GatbednUs.

PIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

269

with Vorstias and Leoline the Monk,
and many texts of Scripture were ban-
died to and fro; and when this was
done, and many propositions made,
and it waxed towards twelve of the
dock, mj Lords the Bishops prepared
to set them down to a fair repast, in
which was great store of good things
— and among the rest a roasted pea-
cock, having in lien of a tail the arms
and banners of the Archbishop, which
was a goodly sight to all who favoured
the Charch-«-and then the Archbishop
would say a grace, as waa seemly to
do^ he being a very holy man ; but ere
he had finished, a great mob of towns-
people and folks from the country
who were gathered under the win-
dow, cried out. Bread! bread ! for there
was a great famine, and wheat had
risen to three times the ordinary price
of the sldch*; and when they had done
crying Bread! bread! they called out
No Bishops !~^ and. began to cast up
stones at the windows. Whereat my
Lords the Bishops were in a great fright,
and cast their dinner out of the window
to appease the mob, and so the men of
that town were well pleased, and did
devour the meats with a great appetite ;
and then yon might have seen my
Lords standing with empty plates, and
looking wistfully at each other, till
SimoA of Gloucester, he who disputed
with Leoline the Monk, stood up among
them and said, * Good my Lords^ is it
lyour pleasure to stand herefasting^ and
that those who count lower in the Church
than you do should feast and fluster f
Let u^ order to us the dinner of the
Beans and Canons, which is making
reach/ for them in Ae chamber below*
And this speech of Simon of Gloucester
pleased the Bishops much ; and so they
sent for the host, one William of Ypres,
and told him it was for the public good,
and he, much fearing the . Bishops,
brought them the dinner of the Deans
ftnd Canons; and so the Deans and
Canons went away without dinner, and
were pelted by the men of the town,
because they had not put any meat out

• A measure in the Bailiwick of Dort,
containing two gallons one pint English
wymeasure.

of the window like the Bishops ; and
when the Count came to hear of it, he
said it was a pleasant conceit, and that
the Bishops were right cunning men, and
had dinged the Canons welL"

When I talk of sacrifices, I mean the
sacrifices of the Bishop-Commissioners,
for we are given to understand that the
great mass of Bishops were never con-
sulted at all about these proceedings ;
that they are contrary to eveiything
which consultations at Lambeth, pre-
vious to the Commission, had led them
to expect; and that they are totally
disapproved of by them. The volun-
tary sacrifice, then (for it is no sacri-
fice if it be not voluntary), is in the
Bishop-Commissioners only; and be-
sides the indemnification which they
have voted to themselves out of the
patronage of the Cathedrals, they will
have all that never-ending patronage
which is to proceed from the working
of the Commission, and the endowments
bestowed upon different livings. So
much for episcopal sacrifices !

And who does not see the end and
meaning of all this ? The Lay Com-
missioners, who are members of the
Government, cannot and will no't attend
—the Archbishops of York and Can-
terbury are quiet and amiable men,
going fast down in the vale of life —
some of the members of the Commis-
sion are expletives — some must be
absent in their dioceses — the Bishop
of London is passionately fond of
labour, has certainly no aversion to
power, is of quick temper, great ability,
thoroughly versant in ecclesiastical law,
and always in London. He will become
the Commission, and when the Church
of England is mentioned, it will only
mean Charles James of London, who
will enjoy a greater power than has
ever been possessed by any Churchman
since the days of Laud, and will become
the Church of England here upon earth.
As for the Commission itself, there is
scarcely any power which is not given
to it. They may call for every paper
in the world, and every human creature
who possesses it, and do what they like
to one or the other. It is hopeless to
contend with such a body ; and most
painful to think that it has been esta-

S70

FIBST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

blished under a Whig GoTernment*
A Commisnon of Tory Churchmen,
established for such purposes, should
hare been framed with the utmost
jealousy, and widb the most cautious
circumspection of its powers, and with
the most earnest wish for its extinction
when the purposes of its creation were
answered. The GU>Temment have
done eveiything in their power to
make it yezations, omnipotent, and
eyerlasting. This immense power,
flung into the hands of an indiTidnal,
is one of the many foolish consequences
which proceed from the centralisation
Of the bill, and the unwillingness to em-
ploy the local knowledge of the Bishops
in the process of annexing dignified to
parochial preferment.

There is a third bill concocted by
the Commission-Bishops, in which the
great principle of increasing the power
of the Bench has certainly not been
lost sight of : — A brother Clergyman
falls ill suddenly in the country, and he
begs his clerical neighbour to do duty
for him in the afternoon, thinking it
better that there should be single ser-
vice in two churches, than two services
in one, and none in the other. The
Clergyman who accedes to this request
is liable to a penalty of 5L There is a
harshness and ill nature in this — a
gross ignorance of the state of the
poorer Clergy — a hardheartedness pro-
duced by the long enjoyment of wealth
and power, which makes it quite in-
tolerable. I speak of it as it stands in
the bill of last year.f

If a Clergyman has a living of 4002L
per annum, and a population of two
thousand persons, the Bishop can com-
pel him to keep a Curate to whom he
can allot any salary which he may allot
to any other Curate ; in other words,
he may take away half the income of
the Clergyman, and instantly ruin him
—and this without any complaint from
the Vestry ; With every testimonial of
the most perfect satisfaction of the

* I am speaking here of the permanent
Commission established by Act of Parlia-
ment in 1835. The Commission for report-
ing had come to an end six months before
this letter was written.

t This is also, given up.

Parish in the labours of a Minister,
who may, perhaps, be dedicating his
whole hfe to their improvement I
think I remember that the Bishop of
London once attempted this before he
was a Commissioner, and was defeated.
I had no manner of doubt that it would
speedily become the law, after the Com-
mission had begun to operate. The
Bishop of London is said to have de-
dared, after this trial, that if it was not
law it should soon be law* : and law you
will see it will become. In fact, he can
slip into any Ecclesiastical Act of
Parliament anything he pleases. There
is nobody to heed or to contradict him ;
provided the power of Bishops is ex-
tended by it, no Bishop is so ungenteel
as to oppose the Act of his Right Re-
verend Brother; and there are not
many men who have knowledge, eb-
quence, or force of character to stand
up against the Bishop of London, and,
above all, of industry to watch him.
The Ministry, and the Lay Lords, and
the House of Commons, care nothing
about the matter;' and the Clergy
themselves, in a state of the greatest
ignorance as to what is passing in the
world, find their chains heavier and
heavier, without knowing who or what
has produced the additional encnm-
brance. Agood honest Whig Minister
should have two or three- stout-hearted
parish priests in his train to watch the
Bishops' biUs, and to see that they were
constructed on other principles than
that Bishops can do no wrong^ and canr
not have too much power. The Whigs
do nothing of this, and yet. they com-
plain that they are hated by the Cleigyi
and that in all elections the Gler^
are their bitterest enemies. Suppose
they were to try a little justice, a Uttle
notice, and a little protectioa It
would take more time than quizzing,
and contempt, but it might do some
good.

The Bishop puts a great number of
questions to his Clergy, which they are

• The Bishop of London denies that he
ever said this; but the Bishop of London
affects short sharp sayings, seasoned. I «n
afraid, sometimes with a little indiscretion:
and these sayings are not necessarily iw-
gotten because he forgets them.

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

271

to be compelled, by this new law of
the Commission, to answer, under a
penalty, and if they do answer them,
they incur, perhaps, a still hearier
penalty. ** Have yon had two services
in your Church all the year?**— -"I
decline to answer." — ** Then I fine you
20/." — **I have only had one service."
— •* Then I fine you 250Z." In what
other profession are men placed between
this double fire of penalties, and com-
pelled to criminate themselves? It
has been disused in England, I believe,
ever since the time of Land and the
Star Chamber.*

By the same bill, as it first emanated
from the Commission, a Bishop could
compel a Clergyman to expend three
years' income upon a house in which he
had. resided perhaps fifty years, and in
which he had brought up a large family.
With great difficulty, some slight
modification of this enormous power
was obtained, and it was a little im-
proved in the amended billf In the
same way an attempt was made to try
delinquent Clergymen by a jury of
Clergymen, nominated by the Bishop ;
but this was too bad, and was not en-
dured for an instant ; still it showed
the same love of power and the same
principle of impeccahHity, for the bill is
expressly confined to all suTts and com-
plaints against persons bdow the dignity

^ This attempt upon the happiness and
independence of the Clergy has been aban-
doned.

t I perceive that the Archbishop of Oan-
tffl'bury borrows money for the improve-
ment of his palace, and pays the principal
off in forty years. This is quite as soon as
a debt incurred for such public purposes
ought to be paid off, and the Archbishop
has done rightly to take that period. In
process of time I think it very likely that
this indulgence will be extended to country
Clergymen, who are. compelled to pay off
the debts for buildings (which they are
compelled to undertake) in twenty years;
and by the new bill, not yet iMtssed, this
indulgence is extended to thirty years.
"Why poor Clergymen have been compelled
forthe last five years to pay off the encum-
brances at the rate of one twentieth per
annum, and are now compelled to pay them
off, or will, when the bill passes, be so com-
pelled, at the rate of oiie thirtieth per an-
num, when the Archbishop takes forty years
to do the same thing, and has made that
bargain in the year 1831, I really cannot
tell. A Clergyman who does not reside is
forced to pay off his building debt in ten
years.

and degree of Bishops, The truth is,
that there are very few men in either
House of Parliament (Ministers or any
one else), who ever think of the happi-
ness and comfort of the working Clergy,
or bestow one thought upon guarding
them from the increased and increasing
power of their encroaching masters.
What is called taking care of the
Church is taking care of the Bishops ;
and all bills for the management of the
Clergy are left to the concoction of men
who very natarally beheve they are
improving the Church when they are
increasing their own power. There
are many Bishops too generous, too
humane, and too Christian, to oppress
a poor Clergyman ; but I have seen
(I am Sony to say) many grievous
instances of partiality, rudeness, and
oppression.* I have seen Clergymen
treated by them with a violence and
contempt which the lowest servant in
the Bishop's establishment would not
have endured for a single moment ; and
if there be a helpless, friendless,
wretched being in the community, it is
a poor Clergyman in the country, with
a large family. If there be an object
of compassion, he is one. If there be
any occasion in life where a great man
should lay aside his office, and put on
those kind looks, and use those kind
words which raise the humble from the
dust, these are the occasions when
those best parts of the Christian cha-
racter ought to be displayed.

I would instance the unlimited power
which a Bishop possesses over a Curate,
as a very unfair degree of power for
any man to possess. Take the following
dialogue, which represents a real event.

Bishop, — Sir, I understand you
frequent the Meetings of the Bible
Society ?

Curate, — Yes, my Lord, I do.

Bishop. — Sir, I tell you plainly, if
you continue to do so, I shall silence
you from preaching in my diocese.

Curate, — My Lord, I am very sorry
to incur your indignation, but I frequent
that Society upon principle, because I
think it eminently serviceable to the
cause of the Gospel.

• What Bishops like best in their Clergy
is a dropping-down^deaduess of manner.

272

HBST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

Bishop, — Sir, I do not enter into
yoar reasons, but tell yon plainly, if
you continae to go there yon shall be
silenced.

The yonng man did go, and was
silenced ; — and as Bishops haFe always
a great deal of dcTer machinery at
work of testimonials and bene-deceuits,
and always a lawyer at their elbow,
under the name of a secretary, a Curate
excluded from ooe diocese is excluded
from all. His remedy is an appeal to
the Archbishop from the Bishop : his
worldly goods, however, amount to
ten pounds : he never was in London :
he dreads such a tribunal as an Arch-
bishop : he thinks, perhaps, in time the
Bishop may be softened ? if he is com-
pelled to restore him, the enmity will be
immortaL It would be just as rational
to give to a frog or a rabbit, upon
which the physician is about to experi-
ment, an appeal to the Zoological So-
ciety, as to give to a country Curate an
appeal to me Archbishop against his
purple oppressor.

The errors of the bill are a public
concern — the injustice of the bill is a
private concern. Give us our patron-
age for life.* Treat the Cathedrals all
alike» with the same measure of justice.
Don't divide livings in the patronage of
present Incumbents without their con-
sent — or do the same with all livings.
If these points be attended to in the
forthcoming bill, tdl complaint of un-
fairness and injustice wdl be at an end.
I shall still think, that the Commis-
sioners have been very rash and indis-
creet, that they have evinced a con-
tempt for existing institutions, and a
spirit of destruction which will be copied
to the life hereafter, by Commissioners
of a very different description. Bishops
live in high places with high people, or
with little people who depend upon
them. They walk delicately, like Agag.
They hear only one sort of conversa-
tion, and avoid bold reckless men, as a
lady veils herself from rough breezes.
I am half inclined to think sometimes,
that the Bishop-Commissioners really
think that they are finally settling the
Church ; that the House of Lords will

* This has now been given to us.

be open to the Bench for ages ; and
that many Archbishops in saccession
will enjoy their fifteen thousand pounds
a year in Lambeth. I wish I coald do
for the Bishop-Commissioners what his
mother did for ^neas, in the last days
of Troy : —

Omnem qm nunc obducta tuenti
Mcrtales hebetst visas tibi, et homida dr-

cum
Galigst, nubem eripUun.
Apparent dire fsaes, Ac Ac.

It is ominous for liberty when Syd-
ney and Bussell cannot agree; bat
when Lord John Bussell, in the House
of Commons, said, that we showed bo
disposition to make any sacrifices for
the good of. the Church, I took the
liberty to remind that excellent person
that he must first of all prove, it to be
for the good of the Church that our
patronage should be taken away by
the Bishops, and then he might find
fault with us for not consenting to the
sacrifice.

^ I have little or no^personal nor pe-
cuniary interest in these things, and
have made all possible exertion (as
two or three persons in power well
know) that they should not come be-
fore the public I have no son nor
son-in-law in the Church, for whom I
want any patronage. If I were young
enongh to survive any incumbent of
St. PauPs, my own preferment is too
agreeably circumstanced to make it
at all probable I should avail my-
self of the opportunity. I am a sincere
advocate for Church Reform ; but I
think it very possible, and even very
easy, to have removed all odium from
the Establishment, in a much less vio-
lent and revolutionary manner, with-
out committing or attempting such
flagrant acts of injustice, and without
leaving behind an odious Court of In-
quisition, which will inevitably fall
into the hands of a single individual,
and will be an eternal source of vex-
ation, jealousy, and change. I give
sincere credit to the Commissioners
for good intentions. How can such
men have intended anything but good?
And I firmly believe that they
are hardly conscious of the extraor-
dinary predilection they have shown

FIRST LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

273

for Bishops in all their proceedings ; it
is like those errors in tradesmen's bills
of which the retail arithmetician is
really unconscious, but which somehow
or another always happen to be in his
own fiivonr. Snch men as the Com-
missioners do not saj this patronage
belongs justly to the Cathedrals, and
we will take it away unjustly for our-
selyes ; but after the manner of human
nature a thousand weak reasons pre-
vail, which would have no effect, if
self-interest were not concerned : they
are practising a deception on them-
seiTes, and sincerely believe they are
doing right When I talk of spoil
and plunder, I do not speak of the in-
tention, but of the effect, and the pre-
cedent.

Still the' Commissioners are on the
eve of entailing an immense evil upon
the country, and unfortunately they
have gone so far, that it is nec^sary
they should ruin the Cathedrals to pre-
serve their character for consistency.
They themselves have been frightened
a great deal too much by the mob ;
have overlooked the chances in their
favour produced by delay ; have been
afraid of being suspected (as Tories)
of not doing enough ; and have al-
lowed themselves to be hurried on by
the constitutional impetuosity of one
man, who cannot be brought to believe
that wisdom often consists in leaving
alone, standing still and douig nothing.
From the joint operation of all these
causes, all the Cathedrals of England
will in a few weeks be knocked about
our ears. You, Mr. Archdeacon Sin-
gleton, will sit like Caius Marius on
the ruins, and we shall lose for ever
the wisest scheme for securing a well-
educated Clergy upon the most eco-
nomical terms, and for preventing that
low fanaticism which is the greatest
curse upon human happiness, and the
greatest enemy of true religion. We
shall have all the evils of an Establish-
ment, and none of its good.

Tou tell me I shall be laughed at
as a rich and overgrown Churchman.
Be it so. I have been laughed at a
hundred times in my life, and care
little or nothing about it. If I am well
provided for now — I have had my

Vou II.

full share of the blanks in the lottery
as well as the prizes-. Till thirty years
of age I never received a farthiiig from
the Church ; then 50/. per annum for
two years — then nothing for ten years
— then 50021 per annum, increased for
two or three years to 800/., till, in my
grand climacteric, I was made Canon
of St. Paul's ; and before that period,
I had built a Parsonage-house with
farm offices for a large farm, which
cost me 4000/., and hi^ reclaimed an-
other from ruins at the expense of
2000/L A Lawyer, or a Physician in
good practice, would smile at this pic-
ture of great Ecclesiastical wealth;
and yet I am considered as a perfect
monster ^of Ecclesiastical prosperity.

I should be very sorry to give offence
to the dignified Ecclesiastics who are in.
the Commission: I hope they will allow
for the provocation, if I have been a
little too warm in the defence of St.
Paul's, which I have taken a solemn
oath to defend. I was at school and
college with the Archbishop of Canter-
bury : fifty-three years ago he knocked
me down with the chess-board for
checkmating him — and now he is at-
tempting to take away my patronage.
I believe these are the only two acts of
violence he ever committed in his life:
the interval has been one of gentleness,
icindness, and the most amiable and
high-principled courtesy to his Clergy.
For the Archbishop of York I feel an
affectionate respect — the result of that
invariable kindness I have received
from him: and who can see the Bishop
of London without admiring his superior
talents — being pleased with his society
— without admitting that, upon the
whole* f the public is benefited by his
ungovernable . passion for business ;
and without receiving the constant
workings of a really good heart, as an
atonement /or the occasional excesses
of an impetuous disposition ? I am
quite sure if the tables had been turned,
and if it had been his lot, as a Canoe,

* I have heard that the Bishop of London
employs ei^ht hours per dav in the govern-
ment of his diocese— in which no part of
Asia, Africa, or America ia included. The
world is, I believe, taking one day with an-
other, governed in about a third of that
time.

T

S74

hbst letteb to abchdeaook singleton.

to fight against the encroachmeiits of
Bishops 3aA he would have made as
■loat a defence as I haTe done — the
onlj difiierence is, that he wonM hare
done it with much greater talent.

Ab for mj friends the Whigs, I nei-
ther wish to offend them nor anybody
else. I consider mysdf to be as good
a Whig as any amongst them. I was
a Whig before many of them were bom
— and while some of them were Tories
and Waverers. I haye always turned
out to fight their battles, and when I
saw no other Clergyman turn out but
myself — and this in times before libe-
rality was well recompensed, and there-
fore in fashion, and when the smallest
appearance of it seemed to condenm a
Churchman to the grossest obloqay,
and the most hopeless poverty. It
may suit the purpose of the Ministers
to flatter the Bench ; it does not suit
mine. I do not choose in my old age
to be tossed as a prey to the Bishop ;
I have not deserved this of my Whig
friends. I know very well there can
be no justice for Deans and Chapters,
and that the momentary Lords of the
earth will receive our statement with
derision and perjsifloge — ^the great prin-
ciple which is now called in for the
government of mankind. Nobody ad-
mires the general conduct of the Whig
Administration more than I da They
have conferred, in their domestic policy,
the most striking benefits on the
conntry. To say that there is no risk
in what they have done is mere non-
sense : there is great risk ; and all
honest men must balance to counteract
it — hojding back as firmly down hill as
they pulled vigorously up hilL StiU,
great as the risk is, it was w(Hrth while

to incur it in the Poor Law Bill, in the
Tithe Bill, in the Corporation ]^ and
in the drcumscription of the Irish Pro-
testant Chnrch. In all theM matters,
the Whig Ministry, after the heat of
party is over, and whoi Joseph Hnme
and Wilson Crokeir* are powdered into
the dust of death, win gain great and
deserved £une. In the question of the
Cburch Commission they have behaved
with the grossest injustice ; deUghted
to see this temporary delirium of Arch-
bishope and Bishops, scarcely beliering
their eyes, and carefully suppressing
their laughter, when they saw these
eminent Consovatives laying about
them with the fury of Mr. T^ler or Mr.
Straw; they have taken the greatest
care not to disturb them, and to give
them no ofience : ** Do as yon like, mjr
Lords, with the Chapters and the Paro-
chial Clergy; you will find some
pleasing morsels in the ruins of the
Cathedrals. Keep for yourselves anj-
thing you like — whatever is agreeable
to you cannot be unpleasant to us."
In the meantime, the old friends of,
and the old sufierers for, liberty, do not
understand this new meanness, and are
not a little astonished to find their
leaders prostrate on their knees before
the Lords of tjte Church, and to receive
no other answer from them than that,
if they are disturbed in their adolatioo,
they will immediately resign !
I remain.

My dear Sir,
With sincere good will and respect,
Yours,
Stdrst Smith.

* I meant no barm by tiie oomptrison,
but I have made two bitver enemies by it

SECOND LETTER

TO

ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

Mt dbab Sib,
It is a long time since yoa have heard
from me, and in the mean time the
poor Church of En]B:land has been
trembling, from the Bishop who sitteth
upon the throne, to the Curate who
rideth upon the hacknej horse. I be-
gan writing on the subject to avoid
bursting iirom indignation ; and as it
is not jnj habit to recede, I will go on
till the Church of England is either up
or down — semianimous on its back,
or vigorous on its legs.

Two or three persons have said to
me — "Why, after writing an enter-
taining and successful letter to Arch-
deacon Singleton, do yon venture up-
on another, in which you may probably
fail, and be weak or stupid?" All
this I utterly depise: I write upon
these matters not to be entertaining,
but because the subjects Are very im-
portant, and because I have strong
opinions upon them. If what I write
is liked, so much'the better ; but liked
or not liked, sold or not sold, Wilson
Crokered or not Wilson Crokered, I
will write. If yon ask me who excites
me — I answer you, it is that Judge
who stirs good thoughts in honest
hearts — under whose warrant I im-
peach the wrong, and by whose help I
hope to chastise it.

There are in most Cathedrals two
sorts of Prebendaries — the one resi-
dent, the other non-resident. It is
proposed by the Church Commission
to abolish all the Prebendaries of the
latter and many of the former class ;
and it is the Prebendaries of the for-

mer class, the Resident Prebendaries,
whom I wish to save.

The Non-resident Prebendaries
never come near the Cathedral ; they
are just like so many country gentle-
men : the difference is, that their
appointments are elective, not heredi-
tary. They have houses, manors,
lands, and every appendage of terri-
torial wealth and importance. Their
value is very different. I have one,
Neasdon, near Willesdon, which con-
sists of a quarter of an acre of land,
worth a few shillings per annum, but
animated by the burden of repairing
a bridge, which sometimes costs the
unfortunate frebendaiy fifty or sixty
pounds. There are other Non-resi-
dent Prebendaries, however, of great
value ; and one, I believe, which would
bo worth, if the years or lives were run
out, from 40,000/. to 60,000iL per
annum.

Not only do these Prebendaries
do nothing, and are never seen, but
the existence of the preferment is
hardly known ; and the abolition of
the preferment, therefore, would not in
any degree lessen the temptation to
enter into the Church, while the mass
of these preferments would make an
important fund for the improvement
of small livings. The Residentiary Pre-
bendaries, on the contrary, perform all
the ^rvices of the Cathedral Church ;
their existence lis known, their prefer-
ment coveted, and to get a stall, and to
be preceded by men with silver rods, is
the bait which the ambitious squire is
perpetually holding out to his second

T2

276 SECOND LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

son. What Prebendary is next to come
into residence is as important a topic
to the Cathedral town, and ten miles
round it, as what the evening or morn-
ing star may be to the astronomer. I
will venture to saj, that there is not a
man of^ood hamour, sense, and worth,
within ten miles of Worcester, who
does not hail the rising of Archdeacon
Singleton in the horizon as one of the
most agreeable events of the year. If
such sort of preferments are extin-
guished, a very serious evil (as I have
often said before) is done to the Church
— the service becomes unpopular,
further spoliation is dreaded, the whole
system is considered to be altered and
degraded, capital is withdrawn from
the Church, and no one enters into the
profession but the sons of farmers and
little tradesmen, who would be footmen
if they were not vicars — or figure on
the coach-box if they were not lecturing
from the pulpit.

But what a practical rebuke to the
Commissioners, after all their plans and
consultations and carvings of Cathedral
preferment, to leave it integral, and un-
touched 1 It is some comfort, however,
to me, to think, that the persons of all
others to whom this preservation of
Cathedral property would give the
greatest pleasure are the Ecclesiastical
Commissioners themselves. Can any
one believe that the^ Archbishop of
Canterbury or the Bishop of London
really wish for the confiscation of any
Cathedral property, or that they were
driven to it by anything but fear,
mingled, perhaps, with a little vanity
of playing the part of great Reformers ?
They cannot, of course, say for them-
selves what I say for them ; but of
what is really passing in the ecclesias-
tical minds of these great personages,
I have no more doubt than I have of
what passes in the mind of the prisoner
when the prosecutor recommends and
relents, and the Judge says he shall
attend to the recommendation.

What harm does a Prebend do^ in a
politico-economical point of view ?
The alienation of the property for three
lives, or twenty-one years, and the
almost certainty that the tenant has of
renewing, give him sufficient interest

in the soil for all purposes of cultiva-
tion*, and a long series of elected
clergymen is rather more likely to pro*
dnce valuable members of the com-
munity than a' long series of begotten
squires. Take, for instance, the Cathe-
dral of Bristol^ the whole estates of
which are about equal to keeping a
pack of fox-hounds . If this had been
in the hands of a country gentleman,
instead of Precentor, Suc^entor, Dean,
and Canons, and Sexton, you would
have had huntsman, whipper in, dog-
feeders, and stoppers of earths ; the
old squire, full of foolish opinions, and
fermented liquids, and a young gentle-
man of gloves, waistcoats, and panta-
loons : and how many generations
might it be before the fortuitous con-
course of nopdles would produce such a
man as Professor Lee, one of the Pre-
bendaries of Bristol, and by far the
most eminent Oriental scholar in En-
rope ? The same argument might be
applied to every Cathedral in England.
How many hundred coveys of squires
would it take to supply as much know-
ledge as is condensed in the heads of
Dr. Copplestone, or Mr. Tate, of St
Paul's ? and what a strange thing it is
that such a man as Lord John Russell,
the Whig leader, should be so squirrel-
minded as to wish for a movement with-
out object or end ! Saving there can
be none, for it is merely taking from
one Ecclesiastic to give it to another ;
public clamour, to which the best men
must sometimes yield, does not require
it ; and so far from doing any good, it
would be a source of infinite mischief
to the Establishment.

If you were to gather a Parliament
of Curates on the hottest Sunday in the
year, after all the services, sermons,
burials, and baptisms of the day, were
over, and to ofier them such increase of

* The Churoh, it has been urged, do not
plant>-they do not extend their woods ; bat
almost all Cathedrals possess woods^ and
r^ularly plant a succession, so as to keep
them up. A single evening of dice and ha-
zard does not doom their woods to sudden
destruction ; a life-tenant does not cut down
all the timber to make the most of his es-
tate ; the woods of ecclesiastical bodies are
manaeed upon a fixed and settled plan, and
considering the sudden prodigalities of Lay-
men, I should not be afnld of a oomparison.

SECOND LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON. S77

salary as would he produced bjthe con-
fiscation of the Cathedral property, I am
conTinced they would reject the mea-
sove, and prefer splendid hope, and the
expectation of good fortune in advanced
life, to the trifling improTement of
poverty which such a fund could afibrd.
Charles James, of London, was a
Curate ; the Bishop of Winchester
was a Curate ; almost every rose-and-
shovelman has been a Curate in his
time. All Curates hope to draw great
prizes.

I am surprised it does not strike tl;e
mountaineers how very much the great
emoluments of the Church are flung
open to the lowest ranks of the com-
munity. Butchers, bakers, publicans,
schoohnasters, are perpetually seeing
their children elevated to the mitre.
Let a respectable baker drive through
the city from the west end of the town,
and let him cast an eye on the battle-
ments of Northumberland House; has
his little muffin -faced son the smallest
chance of getting in among the Percies,
enjoying a share of their luxury and
splendour, and of chasing the deer with
hound and horn upon the Cheviot Hills ?
But let him drive his alum-steeped
loaves a little further, till he reaches
St. Paul's Churchyard, and all his
thoughts are changed when he sees
that beautiful fabric ; it is not impos-
sible that his little penny roll may be
introduced into that splendid oven.
Young Crumpet is sent to school —
takes to his books — spends the best
years of his life, as all eminent English-
men do, in making Latin verses —
knows that the crum in crum-pet is
long, and the pet short— goes to the
University — gets a prize for an Essay
on the Dispersion of the Jews — takes
orders — becomes a Bishop's chaplain
— has a young nobleman for his pupil
<— -publishes an useless classic, and a
serious call to the unconverted — and
then goes through the Elysian transi-
tions of Prebendary, Dean, Prelate,
and the long train of purple, profit,
and power.

It will not do to leave only four
persons in each Cathedral upon the
supposition that such a number will
be sufficient for all the men of real

merit who ought to enjoy such prefer-
ment ; we ought to have a steady con-
fidence that the men of real merit will
always bear a small proportion to the
whole number ; and that in proportion
as the whole number is lessened, the
number of men of merit provided for
will be lessened also. If it were quite
certain that ninety persons would be
selected, the most remarkable for con-
duct, piety, and learning, ninety offices
might be sufficient ; but out of these
ninety are to be taken tutors to Dukes
and Marquises, paid in this way by
the public ; Bishops* Chaplains, run-
ning tame about the palace ; elegant
Clergymen of small understanding,
who have made themselves acceptable
in the drawing-rooms of the mitre ;
Billingsgate controversialists, who have
tossed and gored an Unitarian. So
that there remain but a few rewards
for men of real merit — yet these re-
wards do infinite good ; and in this
mixed, checkered way human afiairs
are conducted.

No man at the beginning of the
Reform could tell to what excesses the
new power conferred upon the multi*
tnde would carry them ; it was not
safe for a Clergyman to appear in the
streets. I bought a blue coat, and did
not despair in time of looking like a
Layman. All this is passed over. Men
are returned to their senses upon the
subject of the Church, and I utterly
deny that there is any public feeling
whatever which calls for the destruction
of the resident Prebends. Lord John
Russell has pruned the two luxuriant
Bishoprics, and has abolished Plu-
ralities : he has made a very material
alteration in the state of the Church :
not enough to please Joseph Hume, and
the tribunes of the people, but enough
to satisfy eveVy reasonable and moderate
man, and therefore enough to satisfy
himself. What another generation
may choose to do is another question :
I am thoroughly convinced that enough
has been done for the present.

Viscount Melbourne declared him-
self quite satisfied with the Church as
it is ; but if the public had any desire
to alter it, they might do as they
pleased. He migi^t have said the same

t3

278 SECOND LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

thing of the Monarchy, or of any other
of oar institations ; and there is in the
declaration a permissiveness and good
hamoar which in public men has sel-
dom been exceeded. Carelessness,
however, is bat a poor imitation of
genias, and the formation of a wise
and well-reflected plan of Reform con-
duces more to the lasting fame of a
Minister than that affected contempt
of duty which eveiy man sees to be
mere vanity, and a vanity of no very
high description.

Bat if the truth must be told, our
Viscount is somewhat of an impostor.
Everything about him seems to be-
token careless desolation : any one
would suppose from his manner that
he was playing at chuck-farthing with
human happiness ; that he was always
on the heel of pastime ; that he would
giggle away the Great Charter, and
decide by the method of tee-totum
whether my Lords the Bishops should
or should not retain their seats in the
House of Lords. All this is the mere
vanity of surprising, and making us
believe that he can play with kingdoms
as other men can with nine-pins. In-
stead of this lofty nebnlo, this miracle
of moral and intellectual felicities, he
is nothing more than a sensible honest
man, who means to do his duty to the
Sovereign and to the Country : instead
of being the ignorant man he pretends
to be, l^fore he meets the deputation
of Tallow-Chandlers in the morning,
he sits up half the night talking with
Thomas Toung about melting and
skimming, and then, though he has
acquired knowledge enough to work
off a whole vat of prime Leicester
tallow, he pretends next morning not
to know the difierence between a dip
and a mould. In the same way, when
he has been employed in fading Acts
of Parliament, he would persuade yon
that he has been reading Cleghom on
the BeeUitudeSf or Pickler. on the Nine
Difficult Points* Neither can I allow
to this Minister (however he may be
irritated by the denial) the extreme
merit of indifference to the conse-
quences of his measures. I believe
him to be conscientiously alive to the
good or evU that he is doing, and that

his caution has more than once arrested
the gigantic projects of the Lycurgus
of the Lower House. I am sorry to
hurt any man's feelings, and to brush
away the magnificent ftibric of levity
and gaiety he has reared ; but I accuse
our Minister of honesty and diligence :
I deny that he is careless or rash : he
is nothing more than a man of good
understanding, and good principle,
disguised in the eternal and somewhat
wearisome affectation of a political
Roue.

. One of the most foolish circumstances
attending this destruction of Cathedral
property is the great sacrifice of the
patronage of the Crown : the Crown
gives up eight Prebends of West-
minster, two at Worcester, ISQOL per
annum at St Paul's, two Prebends at
Bristol, and a great deal of other
preferment all over the kingdom ; and
this at a moment when such extra-
ordinary power has been suddenly
conferred upon the people, and when
every atom of power and patronage
ought to be husbanded for the Crown.
A Prebend of Westminster for my
second son would soften the Catos of
Comhill, and luU the Gracchi of the
Metropolftan Boroughs. Lives there
a man so absurd, as to suppose that
Government can be carried on with-
out those gentle allurements? Yon
may as well attempt to poultice off the
hunips of a cam^^s back as to cure
mankind of these little corruptions.

I am terribly alarmed by a com-
mittee of Cathedrals now sittiDg in
London, and planning a petition to the
Legislature to be heard by coanseL
They will take such high ground, and
talk & language so utterly at variance
with the feelings of the age aboni
Church Property, that I am mach
afraid they will do more harm than
good. In the time of Lord George
Gordon's riots, the Guards said they
did not care for the mob, if the Gentle-
men Volunteers behind would be so
good as not to hold their muskets in
such a dangerous manner. I don't
care for popular cJamour, and think it
might now be defied ; but I confess
the Gentleman Volunteers alann me.
They have unfortunately, too, collected

SECOND LETTER TO ABCHDEACON SINGLETON. 279

their addressea, aod published them in
a sing^le Tolume 1 1 1

I should like to know how many of
oar institutions at this moment, besides
the Cathedrals, are under notice of
destruction. I will, before I finish mj
letter, endeavour to procure a list : in
the meantime I will give you the bill
of fare with which the last Session
opened, and I think that of 1838 will
not be less copious. But at the open-
ing of the Session of 1837, when I
addressed mj first letter to you, this
was the state of our intended changes :
—The Law of Copyright was to be
re-created by Sergeant Talfourd ;
Church Bates abolished by Lord John
Kussell, and Imprisonment for Debt
by the Attomey-Greneral : the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury kindly undertook
to destroy all the Cathedrds, and Mr.
Grote was to arrange our Voting by
Ballot ; the Septennial Act was to be
repealed by Mr. Williams, Corn Laws
abolished by Mr. Clay, and the House
of Lords reformed by Mr. Ward ; Mr.
Hume remodelled County Kates, Mr.
Ewart put an end to Primogeniture,
and Mr. Tooke took away the Exclu-
sive Privileges of Dublin, Oxford, and
Cambridge ; Thomas Dnncombe was
to put an end to the Proxies of the
Lords, and Sergeant Prime to turn the
Universities topsy-turvy. Well may it
be said that

" Kan never oontinueth in one stay."

See how men accustom themselves to
large and perilous changes. Ten years
ago, if a cassock or a hassock had been
taken from the Establishment, the cur-
rent of human affairs would have been
stopped till restitution had been made.
In a fortnight's time. Lord John Bus-
sell is to take possession of, and to re-
partition all the Cathedrals in England ;
and what a prelude for the young
Queen's coronation I what a medal for
the august ceremony I — the fallen Go-
thic buildings on one side of the gold,
the young Protestant Queen on the
other : —

Victoria Ecolesis Yictrix.

And then, when she is full of noble
devices, and of all sorts enchantingly
beloved, and amid the solemn swell of

music, when her heart beats happily,
and her eyes look Majesty, she turns
them on the degraded Ministers of the
Grospel, and shudders to see she is
stalking to the throne of her Protes-
tant ancestors over the broken altars
of God.

Now, remember, I hate to overstate
my case. I do not say that the des-
truction of Cathedrals will put an end to
railroads : I believe that good mustard
and cress, sown after Lo^ John's Bill
is passed, will, if duly watered, con-
tinue to grow. I do not say that the
country has no right, afler the death of
individual incumbents, to do what they
propose to do; — I merely say that it
is inexpedient, uncalled for, and mis-
chievous — that the lower Clergy, for
whose sake it is proposed to be done,
do not desire it — that the Bishop-
Commissioners, who proposed it, would
be heartily glad if it were put an end
to — that it will lower the character of
those who enter into the Church, and
accustom the English people to large
and dangerous confiscations: and I
would not have gentlemen of the mo-
ney-bags, Und of wheat and bean land,
forget that the Church means many
other things than Thirty-nine Articles,
and a .discourse of five-and-twenty
minutes' duration on the Sabbath.
It means a check to the conceited
rashness of experimental reasoners —
an adhesion to old moral land-marks
— an attachment to the happiness we
have gained from tried institutions
greater than the expectation of that
which is promised by novelty and
change. The loud cry of ten thousand
teachers of justice and worship — that
cry which masters the Borgias and
CatUines of the world, and guards from
devastation the best works of God —

l^^ignft testantur voce per orbem
Biscite justitiam moniti et nen temnere
dives.

In spite of his uplifted chess-board,
I cannot let my old schoolfellow, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, off, without
harping a httle upon his oath which he
has taken tQ preserve the rights and
property of the Church of Canterbury :
I am quite sure so truly good a man,

t4

280 SECOND LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

as from the bottom of my heart I be-
lieve him to be, has some line of ar-
gument by which he defends himself ;
but till I know it, I cannot of course
saj I am couTinced hj it. The com-
mon defence for breaking oaths is,
that they are contracts made with
another party, which the Creator is
called to witness, and from which the
swearer is absolved if those for whom
the oath is taken choose to release him
from his obligation. With whom,
then, is the contract made by the
Archbishop? Is it with the commu-
nity at large ? If so, nothing but an
Act of Parliament (as the community
at large have no other organ) could
absolve him from his oath ; but three
years before any act is passed, he puts
his name to a plan for taking away
two-thirds of the property of the
Church of Canterbury. If the con-
tract be not made with the community
at large, but with the Church of Can-
terbury, every member of it is in decided
hostility to his scheme. O'Connell takes
an oath that he will not injure nor
destroy the Protestant Church ; but in
promoting the. destruction bf some of
the Irish Bishoprics, he may plead that
he is sacrificing a part to preserve the
whole, and benefiting, not injuring,
the Protestant establishment. But the
Archbishop does not swear to a gene-
ral truth, where the principle may be
preserved, though there is an apparent
deviation from the words ; but he
swears to a very narrow and limited
oath, that he will not alienate the pos-
sessions of the Church of Canterbury.
A friend of mine has suggested to me
that his Grace has perhaps forgotten
the oath ; but this cannot be, for the
first Protestant in Europe of course
makes a memorandum in his pocket^
book of all the oaths he takes to do, or
to abstain. The oath, however, may
be less present to the Archbishop's
memory, from the fact of his not having
taken the oath in person, but by the
medium of a gentleman sent down by
the coach to take it for him — a practice
which, though I believe it to have been
long established in the Church, sur-
prised me, I confess, not a little. A
proxy to vote, if you please — a proxy

to consent to arrangements of estate^
if wanted ; but a proxy sent down ia
the Canterbury Fly, to take the Creator
to witness that the Archbishop, detained
in town by business, or pleasure, will
never violate that foundation of piety
over which he presides — all thisseen&s
to me an act of the most extraordinary
indolence ever recorded in history.
If an Ecclesiastic, not a Bishop, may
express any opinion on the reforms
of the Church, I recommend thac
Archbishops and Bishops should take
no more oaths by proxy ; but, as they
do not wait upon the Sovereign or the
Prime Minister, or even any of the
Cabinet, by pix>xy, that they should
also perform all religious acts in their
own persour This practice would
have been abolished in Lord John's
first Bill, if other grades of Churchmen
as well as Bishops had been made
Commissioners. But the motto was —

"Peace to the PtJaces— wwtotheUanses.**

I have been informed, though I wDl
not answer for the accuracy of the
information, that this vicarious oath
is likely to produce a scene which
would have puzzled the Ductor Dubi-
(antium. The attorney who took the
oath for the Archbishop is, they say,
seized with religious horrors at the
approaching confiscation of Canterbury
property, and has in vain tendered
back his 6«. Bd, for taking the oath.
The Archbishop refuses to accept it ;
and feeling himself light and disencum-
bered, wisely keeps the saddle upon
the back of the writhing and agonised
scrivener. I have talked it over vntk
several Clergymen, and the general
opinion is, that the scrivener will safiTer.
I cannot help thinking that a great
opportunity opens itself for improving
the discipline of the Church, by means
of those Chapters which Lord John
Russell* is so anxious to destroy;

* I only menti(m Lord John RusseQ'i
name so often, because the management of
the Ghuroh measures devolves upon him.
He is beyond all comparisoathe ablest man
in the wnole Administration, and to such a
degree is he superior, that the Government
could not exist a moment without him. If
the Foreign Secretary were to retire, we
should no longer be mbblhig oursetves iota

SECOND LETTEE TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON. 281

divide the diocese among the members
of the Chapter, and make them re-
sponsible for the superintendence and
inspection of the Clergy in their various
divisions under the supreme control
of the Bishop ; hj a few additions they
might be made the Bishop's Council
for the trial of delinquent Clergymen.
They might be made a kind of college
for the general care of education in
the diocese, and applied to a thousand
useful purposes, which would have
occurred to the Commissioners, if they
had not been so dreadfully frightened,
and to the Government, if their object
had been, not to please the Dissenters,
but to improve the Church.

The Bishop of Lincoln has lately
published a pamphlet on the Church
question. His Lordship is certainly
not a man full of felicities and facili-
ties, imitating none, and inimitable of
any ; nor does he work with infinite
agitation of wit. His creation has
blood without heat, bones without mar-
row, eyes without speculation. He
has the art of saying nothing in many
words beyond any man that ever
existed ; and when he seems to have
made a proposition, he is so dreadfully
frightened at it, that he proceeds as
quickly as possible, in the ensuing
sentence, to disconnect the subject and
the predicate, and to avert the dangers
he has incurred : — but as he is a
Bishop, and will be therefore more read
than I am, I cannot pass him over.

disgrace on the coast of Spain. If the ami-
able Lord Glenelg were to leave us, we
should feel secure in our colonial posses-
sions. If Mr. Spring Rice were to go into
holy orders, great would be the joy of the
three per cents. A decent good-looking head
of the Government might easily enough be
found in lieu of Yisoount Melbourne : biit
in fl^e minutes after the departure of Lord
John, the whole Whig Government would
be dissolved into sparks of Uberalilgr and
splinters of Reform. There are six re-
markable men, who, in different methods
and in different dec^rees, are now affecting
the interests of this oountiy-'the Duke
of Wellington, Lord John Russell, Lord
Brougham. Lord Lyndhurst, Sir Robert
Peel, and O'Gonnell. Greater powers than
all these are the phlegm of the English peo-

gle— the great mass of good sense and in-
)lligenoe (UflTUsed among them— «nd the
nunmer of those who have something to
lose, and have not the slightest intention
of losing it.

His Lordship tells us, that it was at
one time under consideration of the
Commissioners whether they shoald
not tax all benefices above a certain
value, in order to raise a fund for the
improvement of smaller livings; and
his Lordship adds, with the greatest
innocence, that theconsiderations which
principally weighed with the Com-
missioners in inducing them not to
adopt the plan of taTcatien was, that
they understood the Clergy in general
to be decidedly averse to it ; so that the
plan of the Commission was, that the
greater benefices should pay to the
little, while the Bishops themselves—
the Archbishop of Canterbury with his
15,000/. a year, and the Bishop of
London with his lOfiOOl a year — were
not to subscribe a single farthing for
that purpose. Why does John, Bishop
of Lincoln, mention these distressing
schemes of the Commission, which we
are certain wonld have been met with
a general yell of indignation from one
end of the kingdom to another ?
Surely it must have occurred to this
excellent Prelate that the Bishops would
have been compelled by mere shame
to have contributed to the fund which
they were about to put upon the backs
of the more opulent parochial clergy :
surely a moment's reflection must have
taught them that the safer method by
far was to confiscate Cathedral property.
The idea of abandoning this taxa«
tion, because it was displeasing to the
Clergy at large, is not unentertaining
as applied to a commission who treated
the Clergy with the greatest contempt,
and did not even notice the Communi-
cations from Cathedral bodies upon the
subject of the most serious and exten-
sive confiscations.*

• Upon this subject I think it right to
introduce the following letters, the first of
which was published Jan. 23, 1838 :~

TO THE EDITOR OP THE TIMES.

** Sir,-^I feel it to be oonsistent with my
duty, as Secretary to the Church Commis-
sioners, to notice a statement emanating
firom a quarter which would seem to give tt
authenticily— that, of seven Chapter memo-
rials addressed to the Board, the receipt of
one was only acknowledged.

*' It is strictly within my province to ao*
knowledge oommunications made to the

282 SECOND LETTER TO ABCHDEACOK SINGLETON.

'^The plan of tazation, tberefore,"
sajB the Bidiop, ** being abandoned, it
was evident that the fnnds for the aug-
mentation of poor LiTings, and for the
supply of the spiritual wants of popn-
lons districts, most be drawn iroin the
Episcopal and Cathedral revenues ;
that is, from the rerennes from which
the Legislature seems to haye a pecu-
liar right to draw the funds for the
general supply of the religious wants
of the people ; because they arise from
benefices, of which the patronage is
either actually in the Crown, or is deri-
vative from the Crown. In the case
of the Episcopal revenues, the Com-
missioners had already carried the
})rinciple of re-distribution as far as
they thought that it could, with due
allowance for the various demands
upon the incomes of the Bishops, be
carried. The only remaining source,
therefore, was to be found in the Cathe-
dral Revenues: and the Commissioners

' Oommissionera as a body, either directly or
through me ; and it is part of tlieir general
instructions to me that I should do so in
all cases.

" To whatevereztent, therefore, the state-
ment may be true, or whiUtever maj be its
value, it is clear that it cannot attach to
the CommissionerB, but that I alone am re-
sponsible.

** In the execution of my office I have en-
deavoured, in the midst or my other duties,
to conduct an extensive oorrespondenoe in
accordance to what I knew to oe the feel-
ings and wishes of the Commissioners, and
to treat every party in communication with
them with attention and respect.

** If, at some period of more than usual
pressure, any accidental omission may have
occurred^ or may hereafter occur, involving
an appearance of discourtesy, it is for me
to offer, as I now do, explanation and apo-
logy.

^'^I am. Sir, your obedient humble servant^

"C. K. MUBS^T.

"'Whitehall Place, Jan. 21."

TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES.

" Sir,— A more indiscreet and extraordi-
nary communication than that which ap-
pears in your ownpaper of the 23rd instant,
signed by Mr. G. K. Mum»r, I never read.
* Apparel damus intua.* it is now clear
how the Commission has been worked.
Where communications from the oldest
Ecclesiastical bodies, upon the most impor-
tant of all subjects to them and to the
kingdom, were received by the greatest
prelates and noblemen of the lanoC acting
under the King's Commission, I should
have thought that answers suitable to the
occasion would, in eadi caae^ have been

proceeded, in the execution of the
duties prescribed to them, to consider
in what manner those revenues might
be rendered conducive to the efficiency
of the Established Church*"

This is very good Episcopal reason-
ing ; but is it true ? TheBishops and
Commissioners wanted a fund to endow
small Livings ; they did not touch a
farthing of their own incomes, only
distributed them a littlemore equally ;
and proceeded lustily at once to confis-
cate Cadiedral property. But why
was it necessary, if the frmd for small
Livings was such a paramount con-
sideration, that the future Archbishops
of Canterbury should be left with two
palaces, and 15,000/1 per annum?
Why is every future Bishop of London
to have a palace in Eulham, a house in
St. James's Square, and 10,000^ a
year? Could not all the Episcopal
functions be carried on well and effec-
tually with the half of these incomes ?

dictated by the Commission; 'that such
answers would have been entered on the
minutes, and read on the Board-day neit
ensuing.

*' Is Mr. C. K. Murrayquite sure that this,
which is done at all Boards on the most
trifling subjects, was not done at his Board,
in the most awful conJ9scations ever known
in England? Is he certain that spoliation
was in no instance sweetened by civilily,
and imustioe never vunished by forms?
Were all the decenciesand proprieties which
ought to r^;ulate the intercourse of such
gr^ bodies left without a single inquiry
from the Commissioner, to a ^ntlenum
who seems to have been seized with>8ix(ii«*
tinct fits of oblivion on six separate occa-
sions, any one of which required all that
attention to decorum and that aocuraoy of
memory for which secretaries are selected
and paid ?

"According to Mr. C. K. Murray's account,
the only order he received ftrom the B<»rd
was, * If any Prebendary calls, or any Cathe-
dral writes, desiring not to be destroyed,
just say the communication has been re-
ceived;^ and even this, Mr. Mumor tells
us, he has not done, and that no one of
the King's Conunissioners — Archbishops,
Bishops,Marquise8, Earls — ever asked mm
whether he had done it or not— though any
one of these great people would have swoon-
ed away at the idea of not answering the
most trifling oonununication fh>m any other
of these great people.

'* Whatever else these Commissioners do^
they had better not bring their Secretary
forward again. They may feel wind-bouna
by public opinion, but they must choose, as
a sacrifice, a bettor Iphigenia than Mr. C
K, Murray. "SYDiTBr Smith."

^

SECOND LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON. 283

Is it necessarj that the Archbishop of
Canterbary should give feasts to
Aristocratic London ; and that the
doniestics of the Prelacy should stand
with swords and bag-wigs round pig,
and turkej, and yenison, to defend, as
it were, the Orthodox gastronome
Irom the fierce Unitarian, the fell
Baptist, and all the famished children
of Dissent ? I don't object to all this;
because I am sure that the method of
prizes and blanks is the best method of
supporting a Church which must be
considered as very slenderly endowed,
if the .whole were equally divided
among the parishes ; but if my opinion
were different — if I thought the im-
portant improvement was to equalise
preferment in the English Church —
that such a measure was not the one
thing foolish, but the one thing need-
ful — I should take care, as a mitred
Commissioner, to reduce my own
species of preferment to the narrowest
limits, before I proceeded to confiscate
the property of any other grade of the
Church. I could not, as a conscien-
tious man, leave the Archbishop of
Canterbury with 15,000/. a year, and
make a fund by annihilating Resident
tiaries at Bristol of 500/. This comes
of calling a meeting of one species of
cattle only. The homed cattle say,
— *'If you want any meat, kill the
shfeep ; don't meddle with us, there is
no beef to spare. ** They said this,
however, to the lion ; and the cunning
animal, after he had gained all the in-
formation necessary for the destruction
of the muttons, and learnt how well
and widely they pastured, and how
they could be most conveniently eaten
up, turns round and informs the cattle,
who took him for their best and tender-
est friend, that he means to eat them
up also. Frequently did Lord John
meet the destroying Bishops; much
did he commend their daily heap of
ruins ; sweetly did they smile on each
other, and much charming talk was
there of meteorology and catarrh, and
the particular Cathedral they were pull-
ing down at each time*; till one fine

• " What Cathedral are we pulling down
to-dajy ?" was the standing question at the
Coffimission.

day the Home Secretary, with a voice
more bland, and a look more ardently
affectionate, than that which the mas^
culine mouse bestows on his nibbling
female, informed them that the Govern-
ment meant to take all the Church pro-
perty into their own hands, to pay the
rates out of.it, and deliver the residbe
to the rightful possessors. Such an
effect, t^ej say, was never before pro-
duced by a coup de ihiatre. The Com-
mission was separated in an instant :
London clenched his fist ; Canterbury
was hurried out by his. chaplains, and
put into a warm bed ; a solemn va-
cancy spread itself over the face of
Gloucester ; Lincoln was taken out in
strong hysterics. What a noble scene
Serjeant Talfourd would have made of
this I Why are such talents wasted on
Ion and the Athenian Captive f

But, after all, what a proposition !
*' You don't make the most of your
faioney : I will take your property into
my hands, and see if I cannot squeeze
a penny out of it: you shall be regu-
larly paid all you now receive, only if
anytliing more can be made of it, that
we will put into our own pockets." —
** Just pull off your neckcloth, and lay
your head under the guillotine, and I
will promise not to do you any harm :
just get ready for confiscation ; give up
the management of all your property ;
make us the ostensible managers ■ of
everything; let U8<be informed of the
most minute value of all, and depend
upon it, we will never injure you to the
extent of a single farthing."—*** Let me
get my arms about you," says the bear,
*' I have not the smallest intention of
squeezing you." — "Trust your finger
in my mouth," says the mastiff, ** I will
not fetch blood."

Where is this to end ? If Govern-
ment are to take into their own hands
all property which is not managed
with the greatest sharpness and accu-
racy, they may squeeze l-8th per cent,
out of the Turkey Company ; Spring
Rice would become Director of the
Hydro-impervious Association, and
clear a few hundreds for the Treasury.
The British Roasted Apple Society is
notoriously mismanaged, and Lord
John and Brother Lister, by a careful

284 SECOND LETTER Tt) ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

■election of frnit, and a judicious
maoagement of fuel, would soon get it
up to par.

I think, boweyer, I hare heard at
ihe Political Economy Clab, where I
nave sometimes had the honour of
being a guest, that no trades should be
cAried on by Governments. That
they have enough to do of their own,
without undertaking other arsons'
business. If any savings in the mode
of managing EcclesiasticalLeases could
be made, great deductions from the
savings must be allowed by the jobbing
and Gaspillage of general Boards, and
all the old servants of the Church,
displaced by this measure, must receive
compensation.

The Whig Government, they will
be vexed to hear, would find a great
deal of patronage forced upon them
by this measure. Their favourite
human animal, the Barrister of six
years* standing, would be called into
action. The whole earth is, in fact,
in commission, and the humam race
saved from the Flood are delivered
over to**Barristers of six years' stand-
ing. The antes probandi now lies upon
any man who says he is not a Com-
missioner ; the only doubt on seeing a
new man among the Whigs is, not
whether he is a Commissioner or not,
but whether it is Tithes, Poor
Laws, Boundaries of Boroughs, Church
Leases, Charities, or any of the
thousand human concerns which are
now worked by Commissioners, to the
infinite comfort and satisfaction of
mankind, who seem in these days to
have found out the real secret of life —
the one thing wantingto sublunary hap-
piness — the great principle of Commis-
sion, and six years' Barristration.

Then, if there be a better method of
working Ecclesiastical Estates -^ if
anything can be gained for the Church
— why is not the Church to have it ?
why is it not applied to Church pur-
poses ? what right has the State to
seize it ? If I give you an estate, I
give it you not only in its present
state, but I give to you all the improve-
ments which can be made upon it —
all that mechanical, botanical, and
chemical knowledge, may do hereafter

for its improvement — all the amelio-
rations which care and experience can
suggest, in setting, improving, and
collecting your rents. Can there be
such miserable equivocation as to say
— I leave yon your property, but I do
not leave to yon all the improvements
which your own wisdom, or the wisdom
of your fellow-creatures, will enable
you to make of your property?
How utterly unworthy of a Whig
government is such a distinction as
this I

Suppose the same sort of plan had
been adopted in the reign of Henry
YUL, and the Legislature had said,
— Tou shall enjoy all you now have,
but every farthing of improved revenue,
after this period, shall go into the
pocket of the State — it would have
been impossible by this time that the
Church could have existed at all ; and
why may not such a measure be as
fatal hereafter to the existence of a
Church, as it would have been to the
present generation, if it had been
brought forward at the time of the
Reformation ?

There is some safety in dignity. A
Church, is in danger when it is de-
graded. It costs mankind much less
to destroy it when an institution is
associated with mean, and not with
elevated, ideas. I should like to see
the subject in the hands of H. B. I
would entitle the print —

** The Bishops' Saturday Xight ; or, Lard
John Buasell at the Fay-Table."

The Bishops should be standing be-
fore the pay-table, and receiving their
weekly allowance ; Lord John and
Spring Rice counting, ringing, and
biting the sovereigns, and £e Bisbop
of Exeter insisting that the Chancel-
lor of the Exchequer has given him
one which was not weight. Viscount
Melbourne, in high chuckle, should be
standing, with his hat on, and bis
back to the fire, delighted with the
contest ; and . the Deans and Canons
should be in the .background, waiting
till their turn came, and the Bishops
were paid ; and among them a Canon,
of large composition, urging them on
[not to give way too much to the

SECOND LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON. 285

Bench. Perhaps I should add the
President of the Board of Trade, re-
commending the track principle to the
Bishops, and offering to pay them in
hassocks, cassocks, aprons, shovel-hats,
sermon-cases, and such like ecclesias-
tical gear.

But the madness and folly of snch
a measure is in the revolutionary feel-
ing which it excites. A Government
taking into its hands snch an immense
value of property I What a lesspn of
violence and- change to the mass of
mankind ! Do you want to accustom
Englishmen to lose all confidence in
the permanence of their institutions
— to inure them to great acts of plun-
der — and to draw forth all the latent
villanies of human nature ? The Whig
leaders are honest men, and cannot
mean this, hut these foolish and in-
consistent measures are the horn-book
and infantile lessons of revolution ;
and remember, it requires no great
time to teach mankind to rob and
murder on a great scale.

lam astonished that these Ministers
neglect the common precaution of a
Ibolometer*, with which no public
man should be unprovided : I mean,
the acquaintance and society of three
or four regular British fools as a test
of public opinion. Every Cabinet
minister should judge of all his
measures by his foolometer, as a navi-
gator crowds or shortens sail by the
barometer in his cabin. I have a very
valuable instrument of that kind myself,
which I have used for many years;
and I would be bound to predict, with
the utmost nicety, by the help of this
machine, the precise effect which any
measure would produce on public
opinion. Certainly, I never saw any-

• Mr. Pox very often used to say, " I won-
der what Lord B. will think of this ! " Lord
B. happened to be a very stupid person,
and the curiosity of Mr. Fox's friends was
naturally excited to know why he attached
such Importance to the opinion of such an
ordinary oommon-phK^ person. ** His opi-
nion," said Mr. Pox, **is of much more im-
portance than you are Hiware of. He is an
exact representative of all common-place
English prejudices, and what Lord B. thinks
of any measure, the nreat majority of En-
glish people will thinit of it." It would be
a good thing if every Cabinet of philoso-
phers had a liord B. among them.

thing so decided as the effects pro-
duced upon my machine by the Rate
Bill. No man who bad been accus*
tomed in the smallest degree to handle
philosophical instruments could have
doubted of the storm which was
coming on, or of the thoroughly un*
English scheme, in which the Ministry
had so rashly engaged themselves.

I think, also, that it is a very sound
argument against this measure of
Church Kates, that estates have been
bought liable to these payments, and
that they have been deducted from the
purchase money. And, what, also, if
a Dissenter were a Republican as well
as a Dissenter — a case which has
sometimes happened ; and what if our
anti-monarchical Dissenter were to
object to the expenses of kingly go-
vernment ? Are his scruples to be re-
spected, and his taxes diminished, and
the Queen's privy purse to be sub-
jected and exposed to the intervening
and economical squeeze of Government
Commissioners ?

But these lucubrations upon Church
Rates are an episode ; I must go back
to John, Bishop of Lincoln. ^1 other
Cathedrals are fixed at four Preben-
daries ; St. Paul's and Lincoln having
only three, are increased to the regu-
lation pattern of four. I call this
useless and childish. The Bishop of
Lincoln says, there were more Resi-
dentiaries before the Reformation ;
but if for three hundred years three
Residentiaries have been found to be
sufficient, what a strangely feeble
excuse it is for adding another, and
diverting SOOOL per annum from the
Small Living Fund, to say, that there
were more Residentiaries three hundred
years ago.

Must everything be good and right
that is done by Bishops ? Is there one
rule of right for them, and another
for the rest of the world f Now here
are two Conmissioners, whose express
object is to constitute out of the large
emoluments of the dignitaries, a Fund
for the poorer Parochial Clergy ; and
in the very heat and fervour of con-
fiscation, they build up two new places,
utterly useless and uncalled for, take
3000/. from the Charity Fund to pay

£86 SECOND LETTER TO ABCHDEACON SINGLETC^ST.

them, and they give the patronage of
these places to themselves. Is there a
single epithet in the language of in-
yective which wonld not have been
levelled at Lay CSommissioners who
had attempted the same thing ? If it
be necessary to do so much for Arch*
deacons,' why might not one of the
three Besidentiaries be Archdeacon in
virtae of his Prebend ? If Govem-
meixt make Bishops, they may sorely
be trusted to make Archdeacons. I
am yery willing to ascribe good
motives to these Commissioners, who
are really worthy and Teiy sensible
men, bat I am perfectly astonished
that they were not deterred from such
a measure by appearances, and by the
motives which, whether rightly or
wrongly, would be imputed to Uiem.
In not acting so as to be suspected,
the Bishop of London should resem-
ble Csesar^s wifis. In other respects,
this excellent Prelate would not have
exactly suited for the partner for that
great and self-willed man ; and an
idea strikes me, that is not impossible
he might have been in the Senate-
house instead of Caesar.

Lord John Bussell gives himself
great credit for not having confiscated
Church property, but merely remodelled
and redivided it. I accuse him not
of plunder, but I accuse him of
taking the Church of England, rolling
it about as a cook does a piece of
dough with a rolling-pin, cutting a
hundred different shapes with all the
plastic fertility of a confectioner, and
without the most distant suspicion that
he can ever be wrong, or ever be mis-
taken ; with a certainty that he can
anticipate the consequences of every
possible change in human affairs.
There is not a better man in England
than Lord John Bussell ; but his worst
failure is that he is utterly ignorant of
all moral fear ; there is nothing he
would not undertake. I believe he
would perform the operation for the
stone — build St. Peter's — or assume
(with or without ten minutes' notice)

the command of the Channel Fleet {
and no one would discover by his man-
ner that the patient had died — the
Church tumbled down — and the Chan-
nel Fleet been knocked to atoms. I
believe his ipotives are always pore,
and his measures often able ; but they
are endless, and never done with that
pedetentons pace and pedetentous mind
in which it behoves the wise and vir-
tuous improver to walk. He alarms
the wise Liberals ; and it is impossible
to sleep soundly while he has the com-
mand of the watch.*

Do not say, my dear Lord John,
that I am too severe upon you. A
thousand years have scarce sufficed to
make our blessed England what it is ;
an hour may lay it in the dust : and
can you with all your talents renovate
its shattered splendour — can you re-
call back its virtues — can you van-
quish time and late ? But, idas ! you
want to shake the world, and be the
Thunderer of the scene 1

Now what is the end of what I hare
written ? Why everybody was in a
great fright ; and anumberof Bbhopsi
huddled together, and talking of their
great sacrifices, began to destroy other
people's property f and to take other
people's patronage : and all the fright is
over now ; and all the Bishops are very
sorry for what they have done, and
regret extremely the destruction of the
Cathedral dignitaries, but don't knov
how to get out of the foolish scrape.
The Whig Ministry persevere to please
Joseph and his brethren, and the Des-
troyers ; and the good sense of the
matter is to fling out the Dean and
Chapter Bill, as it now stands, and to
bring in another next year — making
a fund out of all the Non-resident Pre-
bends, annexing some of the others,
and adopting many of the enactments
contained in the present BilL

* Another peculiarity of the B«u»eIIs ifl,
that they never alter their opinions s they
are au excellent race, but they must be tre*
panned before they can be conTinced.

THIRD LETT!ER

TO

AEOHDEACON SINGLETON.

Mt dbab Sib,
I HOPE this is the last letter joa will
receiTe from me on Church matters.
I am tired of the subject ; so arejou ;
so is eyerybodj. In spite of many
Bishops* charges, I am unbroken ; and
remain entirely of the same opinion
as I was two or three years since —
that the mutilation of Deans and
Chapters is a rash, foolish, and impru-
dent measure.

I do not think the charge of the
Bishop of London successful in com-
bating those arguments which have
been used against the impending Dean
and Chapter Bill ; but it is quiet,
gentlemanlike, temperate, and written
in a manner which entirely becomes
a»e high office and character which he
bears.

I agree with him in saying that the
Plurality and Residence BiU is, upon
the whole, a very good Bill ; — nobody,
however, knows tetter than the Bishop
of London the various changes it has
undergone, and the improvements it
has received. I could point out four-
teen or fifteen very material alterations
for the better since it came out of the
hands of the Commission, and all
bearing matenodhf upon the happiness
and comfort of the parochial Clergy, I
will mention only a few : — the Bill, as
originally introduced, gave the Bishop
a power, when he considered the duties
of the parish to be improperly per-
formed, to suspend the Clergyman and
appoint a Curate with a salary. Some
impious person thought it not impos-
sible that occasionally such a power

might be maliciously and vindictively
exercised, and that some check to it
should be admitted into the Bill ; ac-
cordingly, under the existing act, an
Ecclesiastical Jury is to be summoned,
and into that jury the defendant
Clergyman may introduce a friend of
his own.

If a Clergyman, from illness or any
other overwhelming necessity, were
prevented from having two services,
he was exposed to an information^ and
penalty. In answering the Bishop, he
was subjected to two opposite sets of
penalties — the one for saying Yes;
the other for saying No: he was
amenable to the needless and imperti-
nent scrutiny of a Rural Dean before
he was exposed to* the scrutiny of the
Bishop. Curates might be forced upon
him by subscribing parishioners, and
the certainty of a schism established
in the parish; a Curate might have
been forced upon present incumbents
by the Bishop without any complaint
made ; upon men who took, or, per-
haps, bought, their livings under very
different laws ; — all these acts of in-
justice are done away with, but it is
not to the credit of the framers of the
Bill that they were ever admitted, and
they completely justify the opposition
with which the Bill was received by
me and by others. I add, however,
with great pleasure, that when these
and other objections were made, they
were heard with candour, and promised
to be remedied by the Archbishop of
Canterbury and the Bishop of London
and Lord John RosseU.

288

THIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

I have spoken of the power to issae
a Commission to inqnire into the well-
being of any parish : a TindictiTe and
malidons Bishop might, it is true, con-
Tert this, which was intended for the
protection, to the oppression of the
Cleigj — afraid to dispossess a Clergy-
man of his own anUiority, he might
attempt to do the same ddng under
the cover of a joiy of his ecclesiastical
creatures. Bnt I can hardly conceive
such baseness in the prelate, or such
infamous subserviency in the agents.
An honest and respectable Bishop will
remember that the very issue of such
a Commission is a serious slur upon
the character of a Clergyman ; he will
do all he can to prevent it by private
monition and remonstrance ; and if
driven to such an act of power, he
will of course state to the accused
Clergyman the subjects of accusation,
the names of his accusers, and give
him ample time for his defence. If
upon anonymous accusation he sub-
jects a Clergyman to such an investi-
gation, or refuses to him any advantage
which the law gives to every accused
person, he is an infamous, degraded,
and scandalous tyrant: but I cannot
believe there is such a man to be found
upon the Bench.

There is in this new Bill a very
humane clause (though not introduced
by the Commissidn), enabling the
widow of the diseased clergyman to
retain possession of the parsonage
house for two months after the death
of the Incumbent It ought, in fairness,
to be extended to the heirs, executors,
and administrators of the Incumbent
It is a great hardship that a family
settled in a parish for fifty years per-
haps, should be torn up by the roots
in eight or ten days ; and the interval
of two months, allowing time for re-
pairs, might put to rest many questions
of dilapidation.

To the Bishop's power of intruding
a Curate without any complaint on the
part of the parish that the duty has
been inadequately performed, I retain
the same objections as before: ' It is
a power which without this condition
will be unfairly and partially exercised.
The first object I admit is not the

proviaon of the Clei^gyman, but the
care of the parish : but one way of tak-
ing care of parishes is to take care that
clergymen are not treated with tyranny,
partiality, and injustice: and the best
way of effecting this is to remember
that their superiors have the same
human passions as other people; and
not to trust them with a power which
may be so grossly abused, and which
(incredible as the Bishop of London
may deem it) hcu been, in some m-
stances, grossly abused.

I cannot imagine what the Bishop
means by saying, that the members of
Cathedrals do not in virtue of their
office bear any part in the parochial
instruction of* the people. This is a
fine deceitful word, the word parochial,
and eminently calculated to coax the
public. If he means simply that Cathe-
drals do not belong to parishes, that
St Paul's is not the parish charch of
Upper Puddicomb, and that the Vicar
of St Fiddlefrid does not officiate in
Westminster Abbey: all this is tme
enough, but do they not in the most
material points instruct the people pre-
cisely in the same manner as the paro-
chial Clergy? Are not prayers and
sermons the most important means of
spiritual instruction? And are there
not eighteen or twenty services in every
Cathedral for one which is heard in
parish churches? I have very often
counted in the afternoon of week days
in St Paul's 150 people, and on San-
days it is full to suffocation. Is all
this to go for nothing? and what right
has the Bishop of D>ndon to suppose
that there is not as much real pie^ in
Cathedrals,' as in the most roadless,
postless, melancholy, sequestered ham-
let, preached to by the most proTinoiali
sequestered, bucolic Clergyman in the
Queen's dominions?

A number of little children, it is
tme, do not repeat a catechism of
which they do not comprehend a word;
but it is rather rapid and wholesale to
say, that the parochial Clergy are
spiritual instructors of the people, and
that the Cathedral Clergy are only so
in a very restricted sense. I say that
in the most material points and acts of
instruction, they are much more labo^

THIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON. 289

rious and incessant than any parochial
Clergy. It might really be supposed
from the Bishop of London's reasoning,
that some other methods of instraction
took place in Cathedrals than prayers
and sermons can afford; that lectures
were read on chemistry, or lessons
given on dancing; or that it was a
Mechanics' Institute, or a vast recep-
tacle for hexameter and pentameter
boys. His own most respectable Chap-
lain, who is often there as a member
of the body, will tell him that the
prayers are strictly adhered to, accord-
ing to the rubric, with the difference
only that the service is beautifully
chanted instead of being badly read;
that instead of the atrocious bawling
of parish Churches, the Anthems are
sang with great taste and feeling; and
if the preaching is not good, it is the
fault of the Bishop of London, who
has the whole range of London preach-
ers from whom to make his selection.
The real fact is, that, instead of being
something materially different from
the parochial Clergy, as the Commis-
sioners wish to make them, the Cathe-
dral Clergy are fellow labourers with
the parochial Clergy, outworking them
ten to one; but the Commission having
provided snugly for the Bishops, have
by the merest accident in tfte world
entangled themselves in this quarrel
with Cathedrals.

** h ad the question," says the Bishop,
**been proposed to the religious part of
the community. Whether, if no other
means were to be found, the eff^ective
cure of souls should be provided for by
the total suppression of those Ecclesias-
tical Corporations which have no cure
of souls, nor bear any part in the pa-
rochial labours of the Clergy ; that
question, I verily believe, would have
been carried in the affirmative by an
immense majority of suffrages.'* But
suppose no other means could be found
for the effective cure of souls than the
suppression of Bishops, does the Bishop
of London imagine that the majority of
suffrages would have been less im-
mense ? How idle to put such cases !

A pious man leaves a large sum of
money in Catholic times for some
purposes which are superstitious, and

Vol. n.

for others, such as preaching and read-
ing prayers, which are applicable to all
times ; the superstitious usages aro
abolished, the pious usages remain :
now the Bishop must admit, if you
take half or any part of this money from
Clergymen to whom it was given, and
divide it for similar purposes among
Clergy to whom it was not given, you
deviate materially from the intentions
of the founder, i hese foundations are
made in loco; in many of them the
locus was perhaps the original cause of
the gift. A man who founds an alms-
house at Edmonton doeS not mean that
the poor of Tottenham should avail
themselves of it; and if he could have
anticipated such a consequence, ho
would not have endowed any alms-
house at all. Such is the respect for
property that the Court of Chancery,
when it becomes impracticable to carry
the will of the donor into . execution,
always attend to the cypres^ and apply
the charitable fund to a purpose as
germane as possible to the inten-
tion of the founder; but here, when
men of Lincoln have left to Lincoln
Cathedral, and men of Hereford, to
Hereford, the Commissioners seize it all,
melt it into a common mass, and dis-
perse it over the kingdom. Surely the
Bishop of London cannot contend that
this is not a greater deviation from
the will of the founder than if the samo
people remaining in the same place,
receiving all the founder gave them,
and doing all things not forbidden by
the law which the founder ordered,
were to do something more than the
founder ordered, were to become the
guardians of education, the counsel to
the Bishop, and the Curators of the
Diocese in his old age and decay.

The public are greater robbers and
plunderers than any one in the public ;
look at the whole transaction, it is a
mixture of meanness and violence.
The country choose to have an
established religion, and a resident
parochial Clergy, but they do not
choose to build houses for their paro-
chial clergy, or to pay them in many
instances more than a butler or a
coachman receives. How is this defi-
ciency to be supplied ? Ihe heads of

U

I

200

TJJIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

the Church propose to this public to
s^izeupon estates which never belonged
to the public, and which were left for
another purpose ; and by the seizure of
these estates to save that which ought
to come out of the public purse.

Suppose Parliament were to seize
upon all the alms-houses in England,
and apply them to the diminution of
the poor-rate, what a number of in-
genious arguments might be pressed
into the service of this jobbery : "Can
anything be more revolting than that
the poor of N(^humberland should be
starving, while the poor of the suburban
hamlets are dividing the benefactions
of the pious dead ? * We want for these
purposes all that we can obtain from
whatever sources derived."* I do not
deny the right of Parliament to do this,
or anything else \. but I deny that it
would be expedient ;. because I think
it better to make any sacrifices, and
to endure any evil, than to gratify this
rapacious spirit of plunder and confis-
cation. Suppose these Commissioner
Prelates, firm and unmoved, when we
were all alarmed, had told the public
that the parochial Clergy were badly
provided for, and that it was the duty
of that public to provide a proper
support for their Ministers ;. — suppose
the Commissioners, instead of leading
them on to confiscation, had warned
their fellow subjects against the base
economy, and the perilous injustice of
seizing on that which was not their
own ; — suppose they had called for
water and washed their hands, and said,
"We call you all to witness that we are
innocent of this great ruin;" — does
the Bishop of London imagine that the
Prelates who made such a stand would
have gone down to posterity less re-
spected and less revered than those
men upon whose tombs it must (afler
all the enumerations of their virtues)
be written, that under their auspices and
hy their counsels the desttuction of the
English Church began? Pity that the
Archbishop of Canterbury had not re-
tained those feelings, when, at the first
meeting of Bishops, the Bishop of Xioa-
dou proposed this holy innovation upon
Cathedrals, and the head of our Church
declared with vehemence and indigna-

tion that nothing in the earth would in-
duce him to consent to it.

Si mens non leeva ftiisset,
Trojaque nunc stares, Priamique arx alta
maneres.

"But,** says the Lord Bishop of
London, "you admit the principle of
confiscation by proposing the confisca-
tion and partition of Prebends in the
possession of non-residents.*' I am
thinking of something else, and I see
all of a sudden a great blaze of light :
I behold a great number of gentlemen
in short aprons, neat put-pie coats, and
gold buckles, rushing about with torches
in their hands, calling each other** My
Lord, ** and setting fire to all the rooms
in the house, and the people belov de*
lighted with the combustion : finding it
impossible to turn them from their
purpose, and finding that they are all
what they are, by divine permission; I
endeavour todirect thQir holy innovations
into another channel ; and I say to
them, " My Lords, had not yoo better
set fire to the out of door offices, to
the barns and stables, and spare this
fine library and this noble drawing-
room ? Yonder are several cow-
houses of which, no use is made ; pray
direct your fury against them, and
leave this beautiful and venerable
mansion as you found it. " If I address
the divinely permitted in this manner,
has the Bishop of London any right to
call me a brother incendiary ?

Our hofy innovator, the Bishop of
London, has drawn a very affecting
picture of sheep having no shepherd^ and
of millions who have no spiritual food:
our wants, he says, are most imperious;
even if we were to tax large Livings
we must still have the money of the
Cathedrals t no plea will exempt yoa,
nothing can stop us, for the formation
of benefices, and the endowment of
new oncs^ We wan t (and he pri nts it in
italics) for these purposes " all that we
can obtain from whatever sources dc'
rived, " I never remember to have been
more alarmed in my life than by this
passage. I said to myself, the neces-
sities of the Church have got such com-
plete hold of the imagination of tbis
energetic Prelate, who is so captivated

THIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

291

by the holiness of his innovations, that
all grades and orders of the Church and
all present and future interests will be
sacrificed to if. I immediate! j rushed
to the acts of Parliament which I al-
ways have under my pillow to see at
once the worst of what had happened.
I found present revenues of the Bishops
all safe ; that is some comfort, I said
to myself: Canterbury, 24,000/. or
25,000/. per annum ; London, 18,000^
or 20,000/. I began to feel some
comfort : ** things are not so bad ;
the Bishops do not mean to sacrifice
to sheep and shepherd's money their
present revenues ; the Bishop of Lon-
don is less violent and headstrong than
I thought he would be." I looked a
little further, and found that 15,000/.
per annum is allotted to the future
Archbishop of Canterbury, 10,000/. to
the Bishop of London, 8000/. to Dur-
ham, and 8000/. each to Winchester
and Ely. ** Nothing of sheep and shep-
herd in all this," I exclaimed, and
felt still more comforted. It was not
till after the Bishops were taken care of,
and the revenues of the Cathedrals
came into full view, that I saw the
perfect development of the sheep and
shepherd principle, the deep and heart-
felt compassion for spiritual labourers,
and that inward groaning for the des-
titute state of the Church, and that firm
purpose, printed in italics, of taking
for these purposes all that could be ob-
tained from whatever source derived; and
even in this delicious rummage of
Cathedral property, where all the fine
church feelings of the Bishop*s heart
Qonld be indulged without costing the
poor sufferer a penny, stalls for Arch-
deacons in Lincoln and St. Paul's are,
to the amount of 2000/. per annum,
taken from the sheep and shepherdfundy
and the patronage of them divided be-
tween two commissioners, the Bishop
of London and the Bishop of Lincoln,
instead of being paid to additional
labourers in the Vineyard,

Has there been any difficulty, I
would ask, in procuring Archdeacons
upon the very moderate pay they now
receive ? Can any Clergyman be more
thoroughly respectable than the present
Archdeacons in the see of London ?

but men bearing such an office in the
Church, it may be said, should be
highly paid, and Archbishops who
could very well keep up their dignity
upon 7000/. per annum, are to be al-
lowed 15,000/. I make no objection to
all this ; but then what becomes of all
these heart-rending phrases of sheep .
and shepherd, and drooping vineyards,
and flocks wiUiout spiritual consolation ?
The Bishop's argument is, that the su-
perfiuous must give way to the ne-
cessary ; but in fighting, the Bishop
should take great care that his cannons
are not seized, and turned against him-
self. He has awarded to the Bishops
of England a superfluity as great as
that which he intends to take from the
Cathedrals ; and then, when he legis-
lates for an order to which ho does not
belong, begins to remember the dis-
tresses of the lower Clergy, paints them
with all the colours of impassioned
eloquence, and informs the Cathedral
institutions that he .must have every
farthing he can lay his hand upon. Is
not this as if one affected powerfully by
a charity sermon were to put his hands
in another man's pocket, and cast, from
what he had extracted, a liberal con-
tribution into the plate ?

I beg not to be mistaken ; I am very
far from considering the Bishop of Lon-
don as a sordid and interested person ;
but this is a complete instance of how
the best of men deceive themselves,
where their interests are concerned.
I have no doubt the Bishop firmly
imagined he was doing his duty ; bub
there should have been men of all
grades in the Commission, some one to
say a word for Cathedrals and against
Bishops.

The Bishop says, *^his antagonists
have allowed three Canons to be sufH-
icient for St. Paul's, and therefore four
must be sufficient for other Cathedrals."
Sufficient to read the prayers and
preach the sermons, certainly, and so
would one be ; but not sufficient to
excite by the hope of increased rar'
and wealth eleven thousand parochial
Clergy.

The most important and cogent
arguments ac:ainst the Dean and Chap-
ter confiscations are passed over in

V 2

292 THIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETO!!r.

silence in the Bishop's Charge. This,
in reasoning, is always the wisest and
most conyenient plan, and which all
young Bishops should imitate after
the manner of this wary polemic I
object to the confiscation because it
will throw a great deal more of capital
out of the parochial Church Hum it will
bring into it I am very sorry to come
forward with so homely an argument,
which shocks so many Clergymen, and
particularly those with the largest
incomes, and the best Bishoprics; but
the truth is, the greater number of
Clergymen go into the Church in or-
der that they may derive a comfortable
income from the Church. Such men
intend to do their duty, and they do
it ; but the duty is, however, not the
motive, but the adjunct. If I were
writing in gala and parade, I would
not hold this language; but we are in
earnest, and on business; and as very
rash and hasty changes are founded
upon contrary suppositions of the pure
disinterestedness and perfect inatten-
tion to temporals in the Clergy, we
must get down at once to the solid
rock, without heeding how we disturb
the turf and the flowers above. The
parochial Clergy maintain their present
decent appearance quite as much by
their own capital as by the income
they derive from the Church. I will
now state the income and capital
of seven Clergymen, taken promis-
cuously in this neighbourhood: —
No. 1. Living 200/., Capital 12,000/.;
No. 2. Living SOO/., Capital 15,000/.;
No. 3. Living 500/., Capital 12,000/.;
No. 4. Living 150/., Capital 10,000/.;
No. 5. Living 800/., Capital 12,000/.;
No. 6. Living 150/., Capital 1000/.;
No. 7. Living 600/L, Capital 16,000/.
I have diligently inquired into the
circumstances of seven Unitarian and»
Wesleyan ministers, and I question
much if the whole seven could make
up 6000/. between them; and the zeal
and enthusiasm of this last division is
certainly not inferior to that of the
former. Now here is a capital of
72,000/. carried into the Church,
which the confiscations of the Com-
missioners would force out of it, by
taking away the good things which

were the temptation to its introduc-
tion. So that by the old plan of
paying by lottery, instead of giving
a proper competence to each, not only
do you obtain a parochial Clergy upon
much cheaper terms ; but from the
gambling propensities of human na-
ture, and the irresistible tendency to
hope that they shall gain the great
prizes, you tempt men into your ser-
vice who keep up their credit, and
yours, not by your allowance, but by
their own capital; and to destroy this
wise and well-working arrangement,
a great number of Bishops, Marquises,
and John Russells, are huddled into a
chamber, and after proposing a scheme
which will turn the English Church
into a collection of consecrated beg-
gars, we are informed by the Bishop
of London that it is a Holy Innovation,
I have no manner of doubt, that the
immediate effect of passing the Dean
and Chapter Bill will be, that a great
number of fathers and uncles, judging,
and properly judging, that the Church
is a very altered and deteriorated pro-
fession, will turn the industry and
capital of their Aleves into another
channel. My friend, Robert Eden,
says, •♦ This is of the earth earthy:"
be it so; I cannot help iu I P^°^
mankind as I find them, and am not
answerable for their defects. When
an argument taken from real life, and
the actual condition of the world, is
brought among the shadowy discus-
sions of Ecclesiastics, it always occa-
sions terror and dismay; it is like
iEneas stepping into Charon's boat,
which carried only ghosts and spirits.

Gemuit sub pondere cymba
Sutilifi. -

The whole plan of the Bishop of
London is a ptochogony — a genera-
tion of beggars. He purposes, out of
the spoils of the Cathedral, to create a
thousand livings, and to give to the
thousand Clergymen 130/. perannam
each : a Christian Bishop proposing,
in cold blood, to create a thousand
livings of 130/. per annum each;— to
call into existence a thousand of the
most unhappy men on the face of the
earth, — the sons of the poor, iviihont

THIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

293

hope, without the assistance of private
fortune, chained to the soil, ashamed
to live with their inferiors, unfit for
the society of the better classes, and
dragging about the English curse of
poverty, without the smallest hope
that they can ever shake it off. At
present such livings are filled by young
men who have better hopes — who
have reason to expect good property
— who look forward to a college or a
family living — who are the sons of
men of some substance, and hope so to
pass on to something better — who
exist under the delusion of being here-
after Deans and Prebendaries — who
are paid once by money, and three
times by hope. Will the Bishop of
liondon promise to the progeny of any
of these thousand victims of the Holy
Innovation that, if they behave well,
one of them shall have his butler's
place ; another take care of the cedars
and hyssops of his garden ? Will he
take their daughters for his nursery-
maids ? and may some of the sons of
these '* labourers of the vineyard "
hope one day to ride the leaders from
St. James's to Fulham ? Here is hope
— here is room for anibition — a field
for genius, and a ray of amelioration I
It' these beautiful feelings of compas-
sion are throbbing under the cassock
of the Bishop, he ought in common
justice to himself to make them known.
If it were a scheme for giving ease
and independence to any large bodies
of Clergymen, it might be listened to ;
but the revenues of the English Churph
are such as to render this wholly and
entirely out of the question. If you
place a man in a village in the country,
require that he should be of good
manners and well educated ; that his
habits and appearance should be above
those of the farmers to whom he
preaches, if he has nothing else to ex-
pect (as would be the case in a Church
of equal division) ; and if upon his
village income he is to support a wife
and educate a family without any
power of making himself known in a
remote and solitary situation, such a
person ought to receive 500/. per
annum, and bo furnished with a house.
There are about 10,700 parishes in

England and Wales, whoso average
income is 285/. per annum. Now, to
provide these incumbents with decent
houses, to keep them in repair, and to
raise the income of the incumbent to
500/. per annum, would require (if all
the incomes of the Bishops, Deans and
Chapters of separate dignitaries, of
sinecure rectories, were confiscated,
and if the excess of all the livings in
England above 500/. per annum were
added to them) a sum of two millions
and a half in addition to the present
income of the whole Church ; and no
power on earth could persuade the
present Parliament of Great Britain
to grant a single shilling for that
purpose. Now, is it possible to pay
such a Church upon any other principle
than that of unequal division ? The
proposed pillage of the Cathedral and
College Churches (omitting all con-
sideration of the separate estate of
dignitaries) would amount,' divided
among all the. Benefices in Engand
to about 5/. 12«. 6|(/. per man ; and
this, which would not stop an hiatus in
a cassock, and would drive out of the
parochial Church ten times as much
as it brought into it, is the panacea for
pauperism recommended by Her Ma-
jesty's Commissioners.

But if this plan were to drive men
of capital out of the Church, and to
pauperise the English clergy, where
would the harm be ? Could not all
the duties of religion be performed as
well by poor Clergymen as by men of
good substance ? My great and seri-
ous apprehension is, that such would
not be the case. There would be the
greatest risk that your Clergy would
be fanatical, and ignorant ; that their
habits would be low and mean, and
that they would be despised.

Then a picture is drawn of a Cler-
gyman with 130/. per annum, who
combines all moral, physical, and intel-
lectual advantages, a learned man,
dedicating himself intensely to the
care of his parish — of charming man-
ners and dignified deportment — six
feet two inches high, beautifully pro-
portioned, with a magnificent counte*
nance, expressive of all the cardinal
virtues and the Ten Commandments,

U3

294

THIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

— and it is asked with an air of triumph
if such a man as this will fall into con-
tempt on account of his poverty ?
But substitute for him an average,
ordinary, uninteresting JSiinister; obese,
dumpy, neither ill-natured nor good*
naturcd; neither learned nor ignorant,
striding over the stiles to Church, with
a second-rate wife — dusty and deli-
quescent — and four parochial children,
full of catechism and bread and butter ;
or let him be seen in one of those Shem-
Ham-and-Japhet buggies — made on
Mount Ararat soon after the subsidence
of the waters, driving in the High
Street of Edmonton*; — among all
his pecuniary, saponaceous, oleaginous
parishioners. Can any man of common
sense say that all these outward cir-
cumstances of the Ministers of religion
liavc no bearing on religion itself ?

I ask the Bishop of London, a man
of honour and conscience as he is, if
he thinks five years will elapse before
a second attack is made upon Deans
and Chapters ? Does he think, after
lieformers have tasted the flesh of the
Church, that they will put up with
any other diet ? Does he forget that
Deans and Chapters are but mock
turtle — that more delicious delicacies
remain behind ? Five years hence he
will attempt to make a stand, and he
will be laughed at and eaten up. In
this very charge the Bishop accuses
the Lay Commissioners of another in-
tended attack upon the property of the
Church, contrary to the clearest and
most explicit stipulations (as he says)
with the heads of the Establishment.

Much is said of the conduct of the
Commissioners, but that i6 of the least
possi ble consequence. They ma}- have
acted for the best, acc6rding to the
then existing circumstances; they may
seriously have intended to do their duty
to the country; and I am far from
saying or thinking they did not; but
without the least reference to the Com-
missionerF, the question is. Is it wise to
puss this bill, and to justify such an

• A parish which the Bishop of London
has the greatest desire to diviae into little
bits ; but which appears quite as fit to pre-
serve its integrity as St. James's. St.
George's, or Kensington, all in the patron-
age of the Bishop.

open and tremendous sacrifice of
Church property ? Does public opinion
now call for any such measure? is it a
wise distribution of the funds of an ill-
paid Church? and will it not force
more capital out of the parochial part
of the Church than it brings into it?
If the hill be bad, it is surely not to
pass out of compliment to the feelings
of the Archbishop of Canterbury. If
the project be hasty, it is not to be
adopted to gratify theBishopof London.
The mischief to the Church is surely a
greater evil than ihe stultification of
the Commissioners, &c If the physician
have prescribed hastily, is the medicine
to be taken to the death or disease of
the patient? If the judge have con-
demned improperly, is the criminal to
be hung, that the wisdom of the magis-
trate may not be impugned ?*

But, why are the Commissioners to
be stultified by the rejection of the
measure? The measure may have
been very good when it was recom-
mended, and very objectionable now.
I thought, and many men though,
that the Church was going to pieces—
that the affections of the common
people were lost to the Establishment ;
and that large sacrifices must be in-
stantly made, to avert the effects of
this temporary madness ; but those
days are gone by — and with them
ought to be put aside measures vhich
might have been wise in those days,
but are wise no longer.

After all, the Archbishop of Canter-
bury and the Bishop of London are
good and placable men ; and will ere
long forget and forgive the successfal
efforts of their enemies in defeating
this mis-ecclesiastic law.

Suppose the Commission were now
beginning to sit for the first time, will
any man living say that they wonl'l
make such reports as they have made?
and that they "would . seriously pro-
pose such a tremendous revolution
in Church property ? And if they
would not, the inference is irresistible,
that to consult the feelings of two or
three Churchmen, we arc compliment-

• "After the trouble the Commissionaj
have taken (says Sir Robert), after the ob-
loquy they have incurred," &c. Ac Ac.

THIRD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

295

in^ away the safety of the Church.
Milton asked where the nymphs were
when Lycidas perished ? I ask where
the Bishops are when the remorseless
deep is closing over the head of their
beloved Establishment ? *

Yon naust have read an attack upon
me by the Binhop of Gloucester, in
the course of which he says that I
have not been appointed to my situa-
tion as Canon of St. Paul's for my
piety and learning, but because I am
a scoffer and a jester. Is not this
rather strong for a Bishop, and docs it
not appear to you, Mr. Archdeacon, as
rather too close an imitation of that
language which is used in the apos-
tolic occupation of trafficking in fish ?
Whether I have been appointed for my
piety or not, must depend upon what
this poor man means by piety. He
means by that word, of cours6, a de-
fence of all tlie tyrannical and oppres-
sive abuses of the Church which have
been swept away within the last fifteen
or twenty years of my life ; the Cor-
poration and Test Acts; the Penal
Laws against the Catholics ; the Com-
pulsory Marriages of Dissenters, and
all those disabling and disqualifying
laws which were the disgrace of our
Church, and which he has always
looked up to as the consummation of
human wisdom. If piety consisted in
the defence of these — if it was impious
to struggle for their abrogation, I have
indeed led an ungodly life.

There is nothing pompons gentle-
men are so much afraid of as a little
humour. It is like the objection of
certain cephalic animalcnla to the use
of small-tooth combs, "Finger and
thumb, precipitate powder, or anything
else you please ; but for heaven's sake
no small- tooth combs I " After all, I
believe, Bishop Monk has been the
cause of much more laughter than
ever I have been ; I cannot account
for it, but I never see him enter a
room without exciting a smile on
every countenance within it,

* What is the use of publishing separate
charges, as the Bishops of Winchester, Ox-
ford, and Rochester nave done ? Why do
not the dissentient Bishops form into a firm
phalanx to save the Church and fling'out
the Bill? I

Dr. Monk is furious at my attacking
the heads of the Church ; but how can
I help it ? If the heads of the Church
are at the head of the Mob ; if I find
the best of men doing that, which has
in all times drawn upon the worst
enemies of the human race the bitterest
curses of History, am I to stop bscause
the motives of these men are pure, and
their lives blameless ? I wish I could
find a blot in their lives, or a vice in
their motives. The whole power of
the motion is in the character of the
movers: feeble friends, false friends,
and foolish friends, all cease to look
into the measure, and say. Would such
a measure have been reconmiended by
such men as the Prelates of Canterbury
and London, if it were not for the
public advantage ? And in this way,
the great good of a religious establish-
ment, now rAidered moderate and
compatible with all men's liberties and
rights, is sacrificed to names ; and the
Church destroyed from good breeding
and Etiquette ! the real truth is, that
Canterbury and London have been
frightened — they have overlooked the
effect of time and delay — they have
been betrayed into a fearful and ruin-
ous mistake. Painful as it is to teach
men who ought to teach us, the legis-
lature ought, while there is yet time,
to awake and read them this lesson.

It is dangerous for a Prelate to write ;
and whoever does it, ought to be a
very wise one. He has speculated
why I was made a Canon of St. Paul's.
Suppose I were to follow his example,
and, going through the bench of
Bishops, were to 4sk for what reason
each man had been made a Bishop;
suppose I were to go into the county
of Gloucester, &c. &c. &c. ! ! ! I I

I was afraid the Bishop would attri-
bute my promotion to the Edinburgh
Review ; but upon the subject of pro-
motion byKeviewshe preserves an im-
penetrable silence. If my excellent
patron Earl Grey had any reasons of
this kind, he may at least be sure that
the reviews commonly attributed to
me were really written by me, I should
have considered myself as the lowest
of created beings to have disguised
myself in another man's wit, and to

U 4

296

THraD LETTER TO ARCHDEACON SINGLETON.

have received a reward to which I was
not entitled.*

I presoine that what has drawn upon
ine the indignation of this Prelate, fs
the ohservations I have from time to
time made on the conduct of the Com-
missioners ; of which he positively as-
serts himself to have been a member ;
bat whether he was, or was not a mem-
ber, I utterly acqait him of all possible
blame, and of every species of imputa-
tion which may attach to the conduct
of the Commission. In using that
word, I have always meant the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of
London, and Lord John Russell ; and
have, honestly speaking, given no
more heed to the Bishop of Gloucester,
than if he had been sitting in a Com-
mission of Bonzes in the Court of Pekin.

To read, however, his Lordship a
lesson of good manners,' I had prepared
for him a chastisement which would
have been echoed from the Seagrave
who banqueteth in the castle, to the
idiot who spitteth over the bridge at
Gloucester; but the following appeal
struck my eye, and stopped my pen : —
'* Since that time my inadequate quali-
fications have sustained an appalling
diminution by the aflection of my eyes,
which have impaired my vision, and
the progress of which threatens to con-
sign me to darkness : I beg.the benefit
of your prayers to the Father of all
mercies, that he will restore to me the
better use of the visual organs, to be
employed on his service; or that he
will inwardly illumine the intellectual
vision, with a particle of that Divine
ray, which his Holy Spirit can alone
impart"

It might have been better taste,
perhaps, if a mitred inValid, in de-
scribing his bodily infirmities before
a church full of Clergymen, whose

* I understand that the Bishop bursts
into tears every now and then, jmd Ba,ys
that I have set nim the name of Simon, and
that all the Bishops now call him Simon.
Simon of Gloucester, however, after all, is
a real writer, and how could I know that
Dr. Monk's name was Simon ? When tutor
in Lord Carrington's family, he was called
by the endearing though somewhat unma-
jestic name of JJick; and if I had thought
about his name at aU, I should have called
him Bichai'd of Gloucester.

prayers he asked, had been a little
more sparing in the abuse of his ene-
mies; but a good deal must be for-
given to the sick. I wish that every
Christian was as well aware as this
poor Bishop of what he needed from
Divine assistance; and in the suppli-
cation for the restoration of his sight
and the improvement of his under-
standing, I most fervently and cor-
dially join.

I was much amused with what old
Hermann* says of the Bishop of
London's .Sschylus. "We find,*' he
says, "a great arbitrariness of pro-
ceeding, and much boldness of trniow-
tton, guided by no sure principle;" here
it is: qualis ab incepto. He begins
with .£schylus, and ends with the
Church of England; begins with pro-
fane and ends with holy innovations —
scratching out old readings which every
commentator had sanctioned; abolish-
ing ecclesiastical dignities which every
reformer had spared; thrusting an ana-
paest into a verse, which will not bear
it; and intruding a Canon into a
Cathedral, which does not want it;
and this is t^e Prelate by whom the
proposed reform of the Church has
been principally planned, and to whose
practical wisdom the Legislature is
called upon to defer. The Bishop of
London is a man of very great ability,
humane, placable, generous, munifi-
cent; very agreeable, but not to be
trusted with great interests where
calmness and judgment are required;
unfortunately, my old and amiable
school-fellow, the Archbishop of Can-
terbury, has melted away before him,
and sacrificed that wisdom on which
we all founded our security.

Much writing and much talking
are very tiresome; and, above all,
they are so to men who, living in the
world, arrive at those rapid and just
conclusions which are only to be made
by living in the world. This bill
past, every man of sense acquainted
with human affairs must see, that as
far as the Church is concerned, the

* XJeber die Behandlung der Griechischen
DichterbeidenEnglftndem. Von Gottfried
Hermann. Wiemar Jahrbucher, voL liv.
1831.

LETTER TO LORD JOHN RUSSELL.

297

thing is at an end. From Lord John
Kassell, the present improver of the
Church, we shall descend to Hame,
from Hume to Roehnck, and after
Roebnck we shall receive our last im-
provements from Dr. Wade: plunder
will follow after plunder, degradation

after degradation. The Church is
gone, and what remains is not life,
but sickness, spasm, and struggle.

Whatever happens, I am not to
blame ; I Imve fought my fight. -^
Farewell.

Stdnet Smith.

A LETTER

TO

LOED JOHN EUSSELL.

My Lord,
Though, upon the whole, your Resi-
dence and Plurality Bill is a good Bill,
and although I think it (thanks to your
kind attention to the suggestions of
various Clergymen) a much better Bill
than that of last year, there are still
some important defects in it, which
deserve amendment and correction.

Page 13. Sect 31. — It would seem,
from this Section, that the repairs are to
depend upon the will of the Bishop and
not upon the present law of the land. A
Bishop enters into the house of a non-
resident Clergyman, and finds it neither
papered, nor painted — he orders these
decorative repairs. In the meantime
the Court of Queen's Bench have de-
cided that substantial repairs only, and
not decorative repairs, can be recovered
by an Incumbent from his predecessor:
the following words should be added :
— "Provided always, that no other
repairs shall be required by the Bishop,
than such as any Incumbent could
recover as dilapidations from the person
preceding him in the said Benefice."

Page 19. Sect 42 Incumbents are

fb answer questions transmitted by the
Bishop, and these are to be counter-
signed by the rural Dean. This is
another vexation to the numerous cata-

logue of vexations entailed upon the
rural Clergy. Is every man to go
before the rural Dean, twenty or thirty
miles off, perhaps ? Is he to go through
a cross-examination by the rural Dean,
as to the minute circumstances of twenty
or thirty questions, to enter into reason-
ings upon them, and to produce wit-
nesses? This is a most degrading
and vexatious enactment, if all this be
intended ; but if the rural Dean is to
believe the assertion of every Clergy-
man upon his word only, why may not
a Bishop do so ? and what is gained
by the enactment ? But the Commis-
sioners seem to have been a set of
Noblemen and Gentlemen, who met
once a week to see how they could
harass the working Clergy, and how
they could make everything smooth
and pleasing to the Bishops.

The clause for holding two Livings^
at the interval of ten miles, is perfectly
ridiculous. If you are to abolish Plu-
ralities, do it at once, or leave a man
only in possession of such Benefices as
he can serve himself; and then the
distance should be two miles, and not
a yard more.

But common justice requires that
there should be exceptions to your rules.
For two hundred years Pluralities,

298

LETTER TO LORD JOHN RUSSELL.

within certain distances, have been
allowed : acting under the faith of these
laws, Livings have been bought and
bequeathed to Clergymen, tenable with
other preferments in their possession —
upon faith in these laws, men and
women have married — educated their
children — laid down a certain plan of
life, and adopted a certain rate of
expense, and ruin comes upon them
in a moment, from this thoughtless in-
' attention to existing interests. I know
a man whose father dedicated all he had
saved in a long life of retail trade, to
purchase the next presentation to a
living of 800iL per annum, tenable
under the old law, with another of
500/. given to the son by his college.
The whole of this Clergyman's life and
prospects (and he has an immense
family of children) are cut to pieces
by your Bill. It is a wrong thing, you
will say, to hold two Livings ; I think
it is, but why did not you, the Legis-
lature, find this out fifty years ago ?
Why did you entice this man into the
purchase of Pluralities, by a venerable
laxity of two hundred years, and then
clap him into gaol from the new virtue
of yesterday ? Such reforms as these
m^e wisdom and carefulness useless,
and turn human life into a mere
scramble.

Pag^ 32. Sect. 69. — There are the
strongest possible objections to this
clause. The Living is 410/. per annum,
the population above 2000 — perhaps,
as is often the case, one third of them
Dissenters. A Clergyman does his
duty in the most exemplary manner —
dedicates his life to his parish, from
M' hence he derives his whole support —
there is not the shadow of a complaint
against him. The Bishop has, by this
clause, acquired a right of thrusting a
Curate upon the Rector at the expense
of a fifth part of his whole fortune.
This, I think, an abominable piece of
tyranny ; and it will turn out to be an
inexhaustible source of favouritism
and malice. In the Bishops' Bill I
have in vain looked for a similar
cluuse, — *'That if the population is
above 800,000, and the income amounts
to 10,000/., an Assistant to the Bishop
may be appointed by the Commis-

sioners, and a salary of 20OO/. per
annum allotted to him." This would
have been honest and manly, to have
begun with the great people.

But mere tyranny andepiscopal malice
is not the only evil of this clause, nor
the greatest evil. Everybody knows
the extreme activity of that part of the
English Church which is denominated
Evangelical, and their industry in
bringing over everybody to their habits
of thinking and acting ; now see what
will happen from the following clause :
— "And whenever the population of
any Benefice shall amount to 2000,
and it shall be made appear to the
satisfaction of the Bishop, that a stipend
can be provided for the payment of a
Curate, by voluntary contribution or
otherwise, without charge to the In«
cumbent, it shall be lawful for the
Bishop to require the spiritual person
holding the same to nominate a tit per-
son to be licensed as such Curate, what-
ever may be the annual value of such
Benefice ; and if in either of the said
cases, a fit person shall not be nominated
to the Bishop within two months after
his requisition for that purpose shall
have been delivered to the Incumbent,
it shall be lawful for the Bishop to ap-
point and license a Curate." A clause
worthy of the Vicar of Wrexhill him-
self. Now what will happen ? The
Bishop is a Calvinistic Bishop ; wife,
children, chaplains, Calvinised up to
the teeth. The serious people of the
parish meet together, and agree to give
a hundred pounds per annum, if Mr.
Wilkinson is appointed. It requires
very little knowledge of human nature
to predict, that at the expiration of
two months Mr. Wilkinson will be the
man ; and then the whole parish is torn
to pieces with jealousies, quarrels, and
comparisons, between the Rector and
the delightful Wilkinson. The same
scene is acted (jnutaiis mutandis), where
the Bishop sets his face against Cal-
vinistic principles. The absurdity coQ'
sists in suffering the appointment oi a
Curate by private subscription; in
other words, one Clergyman in %
parish by nomination, the other b/
ejection; and, in this way, religion
is brought into contempt by their

LETTER TO LORD JOHN RUSSELL.

299

jealousies and quarrels. Little do yon
know, my dear Lord, of the state of
that country you govern, if you sup-
pose this will not happen. I have
now a diocese in my eye where I am
positively certain, that in less than six
months afler the passing of this Bill,
there will not be a single parish of 20C0
persons, in which you will not find a
Subscription Curate, of Evangelical
habits, canting and crowing over the
regular and established Clergyman of
the parish.

In the draft of the Fifth Report,
upon which I presume your Dean and
Chapter Bill is to be founded, I see the
rights of patronage are to be conceded
to present incumbents. This is very
high and honourable conduct in the
Commissioners, and such as deserves
the warmest thanks of the Clergy ; it
is always difficult to retract, much
more difficult to retract to inferiors ;
but it is very virtuous to do so when
there can be no motive for it but a love
of justice.

Your whole Bill is to be one of re-
trenchment, and amputation ; why add
fresh Canons to St. Paurs and Lincoln ?
Nobody wants them ; the Cathedrals
go on perfectly well without them,
ihey take away each of them 1500^. or
1600/. per annum, from the fund for
the improvement of small Livings;
they give, to be sure, a considerable
piece of patronage to the Bishops of
London and Lincoln, who are Com-
missioners, and they preserve a childish
and pattern-like uniformity in Cathe-
drals. But the first of these motives
is corrupt, and the last silly ; and
therefore they cannot be your motives.

Yon cannot plead the recommenda-
tion of the Commission for the creation
of these new Canons, for yon have
flung the Commission overboard ; and
the Reformers of the Church are no
longer Archbishops and Bishops, but
Lord John Russell; — not those per-
sons to whom the Crown has entrusted
the task, but Lord Martin Luther, bred
and born in our own island, and
nourished by the Woburn spoils and
confiscations of the Church. The
Church is not without friends, but
those friends have said there can be

no danger of measures which are sanc-
tioned by the highest Prelates of the
Church ; but you have chased away
the bearers, and taken the Ark into
your own possession. Do not forget,
however, if you have deviated from
the plan of your brother Commis-
sioners, that yon have given to them
a perfect right to oppose you.

This unfair and wasteful creation
of new Canons produces a great and
scandalous injustice to St. Paul's and
Lincoln, in the distribution of their
patronage. The old members of all
other Cathedrals will enjoy the benefit
of survivorship, till they subside into
the magic number of four *, up to that
point, then, every fresh death will add
to the patronage of the remaining old
members ; but in the Churches of Lin-
coln and St. Paul's, the old members
will immediately have one fifth of their
patronage taken away by the creation
of a fifth Canon to share it. This in-
justice and partiality is so monstrous,
that the two Prelates in question will
see that it is necessary to their own
character to apply a remedy. Nothing
is more easy than to do so. Let the
Bishop's Canon have no share in the
distribution of the patronage, till after
the death of all those who were Resi-
dentiaries at the passing of the Bill.'"

Your Dean and Chapter Bill will, I
am afraid, cut down the great prefer-
ments of the Church too much.

Take for your fund only the Non-
Resident Prebends, and leave the num-
ber of Resident Prebends as they are,
annexing some of them to poor Livings
with large populations. I am sure
this is all (besides the abolition of
Pluralities) which ought to be done,
and all that would be done, if the
Commissioners were to begin de novo
from this period, when Bishops have
recovered from their fright, Dissentera
shrunk into their just dimensions, and
the foolish and exaggerated expecta-
tions from Reform have vanished away.
The great prizes of the Church induce
men to carry, and fathers and uncles to
send into the Church considerable
capitals, and in this way, enable the

* All objected to in this paragraph has
been granted.

300

LETTER TO LORD JOHN RUSSELL.

Clergy to associate with gentlemen,
and to command that respect which,
in all countries, and above all in this,
depen d s so m uch on appearances. Your
Bill, abolishing Pluralities, and taking
away, at the same time, so many
dignities, leaves the Church of En-
gland so destitute of great prizes, that,
as far as mere emolument has any
influence, it will be better to dispense
cheese and butter in small quantities
to the public, than to enter into the
Church.

There are admirable men, whose
honest and beautiful zeal carries them
into the Church without a moment's
thought of its emoluments. Such a
man combining the manners of a
gentleman with the acquirements of a
scholar, and the zeal of an Apostle,
would overawe mercantile grossness,
and extort respect from insolent opu-
lence ; but I am tdlking of average
Vicars, mixed natures, and eleven
thousand parish Priests. If yon divide
the great emoluments of the Church
into little portions, such as butlers and
head gamekeepers receive, you will
very soon degrade materially the style
and character of the English Clergy.
If I were dictator of the Church, as
Lord Durham is to be of Canada, I
would preserve the Resident, and abo-
lish, for the purposes of a fund, the
Non-Resident Prebends. This is the
principal and most important altera-
tion in y#ur Dean and Chapter Bill,
which it is not too late to make, and
for which every temperate and rational
man ought to strive.

You will, of course, consider me as
A defender of abuses. I have all my
life been just .the contrary, and I re-
member, with pleasure, thirty years
ago, old Lord Stowell saying to me,
"Mr. Smith, you would have been a
much richer man if you had joined us."
I like, my dear Lord, the road you are
travelling, but I don't like the pace
you are driving ; too similar to that of
the son of Kimshi. 1 always feel my-
self inclined to cry out. Gently, John,
gently down hjlL Put on the drag.
We shall be over, if you go so quick —
you'll do us a mischief.

Remember, as a philosopher, that

the Church of England now is a very
different Institution from what it was
twenty years ago. It then oppressed
every sect, they are now all free — all
exempt from the tyranny of an Esta-
blishment ; and the only real cause of
complaint for Dissenters is, that they
can no longer lind a grievance, and
enjoy the distinction of being perse-
cuted. I have always tried to reduce
them to this state, and I do not pity
them.

You have expressed your intention
of going beyond the Fifth Report, and
limiting Deans to 2000^ per annum,
Canons to 1000/. This is, I presume,
in conformity with the treatment of
the Bishops, who are limited to from
4500/. to 5000/. per annum; and it
wears a fine appearance of impartial
justice : but for the Dean and Canon
the sum is a maximum — in Bishops it
is a maximum and minimum too ; a
Bishop cannot have less than 4500/., a
Canon may have as little as the poverty
of his Church dooms him to, but ho
cannot have more than lOOO/. ; but
there ai'e many Canonries of 500/.,
or 600/., or 700/. per annum, and a
few only of 1000/. ; many Deaneries
of from 1000/. to 1500/. per annum;
and only a very few above 2000/. If
you mean to make the world believe
that you are legislating for men with-
out votes, as benevolently as you did
for those who have votes in Parliament,
you should make up the allowance of
every Canon to 1000/., and of every
Deau to 2000/. per annum, or leave
them to the present lottery of blanks
and prizes. Besides, too, do I not re-
collect some remarkable instances, in
your Bishops* Act, of deviation from
this rigid standard of episcopal wealth?
Are not the Archbishops to have the
enormous sums of 1 5,000il and 12,000/
per annum? Is not the Bishop of
London to have 10,000/. per annum?
Are not all these three Prelates Com-
missioners? And is not the reason
alleged for the enormous income of
the Bishop of London, that ever}'thing
is so expensive in the metropolis ? Do
not the Deans of St Paul's and West-
minster, then, live in London also?
And can the Bishop of London sit in

LETTER TO LORD

his place in the House of Lords, and
not urge for those dignitaries the same
reasons which were so saccessfnl in
securing such ample emoluments for
his own See ? My old friend the
Sishop of Durham has 8000^ per an-
num secured to him. I am heartily
glad of it ; what possible reason can
there be for giving him more than
other Bishops, and not giving to the
Dean of Durham more than other
Deans? that is, of leaving to him one
half of his present income. It is im-
possible this can be a claptrap for
Joseph Hume, or a set-off against the
disasters of Canada; you are too honest
and elevated for this. I cannot com-
prehend what is meant by such gross
partiality and injustice.

Why are the economists so eagerly
in the field ? The public do not con-
tribute one halfpenny to the support
of Deans and Chapters ; it is not pro-
posed by any one to confiscate the
revenues of the Church ; the whole is
a question of distribution, in what way
the revenues of the Church can be best
administered for the public good.
But whatever may be the respective
shares of Peter or Paul, the public will
never be richer or poorer by one
shilling.

When your Dean and Chapter Bill
is printed, I shall take the liberty of
addressing you again. The Clergy
naturally look with the greatest anxiety
to these two Bills ; they think that you
will avail yourself of this opportunity
to punish them for their opposition to
your government in the last Elections.

JOHN RUSSELL.

301

They are afraid that your object is not
so much to do good as to gratify your
vanity, by obtaining the character of a
great reformer, and that (now the
Bishops are provided for) you will var-
nish over your political mistakes by in- *
creased severity against the Church, or
apparently struggling for their good,
cee with inexpressible delight the Cler-
gy delivered over to the tender mercies
of the Radicals. These are the terrors
of the Clergy. I judge you with a
very different judgment. You are a
religious man, not unfriendly to the
Church ; and but for that most foolish
and fatal error of the Church Rates
(into which you were led by a man
who knows no more of England than
of Mesopotamia), 1 believe you would
have gone on well with the Church to
the last. There is a genius in action
as well as diction ; and because you
see political evils clearly, and attack
them bravely, and cure them wisely,
you are a man of real genilis, and are
most deservedly looked up to as the
leader of the Whig party in this King-
dom. I wish, I must confess, you
were rather less afraid of Joseph and
Daniel; but God has given you a fine
understanding, and a fine character ;
and I have so much confidence in your
spirit and honour, that I am sure you
would rather abandon your Bills al-
together, than suffer the enemies of
the Church to convert them into an
engine of spoil, and oppression.
I am, &c.

Sydney Sauth*

LETTER

ON THB

CHARACTEE OF SIE JAMES MACKINTOSH.

Mt dear Sir,
You a8k for some of your late father's
letters : I am sorry to say I have none
to send you. Upon principle, I keep
no letters except those on business. I
have not a single letter from him, nor
from any human being, in my posses-
sion.

The impression which the great
talents and amiable qualities of your
father made upon me, will remain as
long as I' remain. When I turn from
living spectacles of stupidity, ignorance,
and malice, and wish to think better of
the world — I remember my great and
benevolent friend Mackintosh.

The first points of character which
everybody noticed in him were the total
absence of envy, hatred, malice, and
uncharitableness. He could not hate
—he did not know how to set about it.
The gall-bladder was omitted in his
composition, and if he could have been
persuaded into any scheme of revenging
himself upon an enemy, I am sure
(unless he had been narrowly watched)
it would have ended in proclaiming the
good qualities, and promoting the in-
terests, of his adversary. Truth had so
much more power over him than anger,
that (whatever might be the provoca-
tion) he could not misrepresent nor
exaggerate. In questions of passion
and party he stated facts as they were,
and reasoned fairly upon them, placing
his happiness and pride in equitable
discrimination. Very fond of talking,
he heard patiently; and, not averse to
intellectual display, did not forget that
others might have the same inclination
as himself.*

Till subdued by age and illness, his
conversation was more brilliant and
instructive than that of any human
being I ever had the good fortune to
be acquainted with. His memory (vast
and prodigious as it was) he so man-
aged as to make it a source of pleasure
and instruction, rather than that dread-
ful engine of colloquial oppression into
which it is sometimes erected. He
remembered things, words, thoughts,
dates, and everything that was wanted.
His language was beautiful, and might
have gone from the fireside to the
press ; but though his ideas were
always clothed in beautiful language,
the clothes were sometimes too big for
the body, and common thoughts were
dressed in better and larger apparel
than they deserved. He certainly had
this fault, but it was one not of frequent
commission.

He had a method of putting things
so mildly and interrogatively, that he
always procured the readiest reception
for his opinions. Addicted to reason-
ing in the company of able men, he bad
two valuable habits which are rarely
met with in great reasoners — he never
broke in upon his opponent, and always
avoided strong and vehement assertions.
His reasoning commonly carried con-
viction, for he was cautious in his posi-
tions, accurate in his deductions, aimed
only at truth. The ingenious side was
commonly taken by some one else ; the
interests of truth were protected by
Mackintosh.

His good nature and candour be-
trayed him into a morbid habit of
eulogising everybody— a habit which

LETTER ON SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.

303

destroyed the valae of commendations,
that might have been to the young (if
more sparingly distribated) a reward
of Tirtne and a motive to exertion.
Occasionally he took fits of an opposite
nature ; and I have seen him abating
and dissolving pompous gentlemen with
the most snccessful ridicule. He cer-
tainly bad a good deal of hnmonr;
and I remember, amongst many other
examples of it, that he kept us for two
or three hours in a roar of laughter at
a dinner-party at his own house, play-
ing upon the simplicity of a Scotch
cousin, who had mistaken me for my
l^allant synonym, the hero of Acre. I
never saw a more perfect comedy, nor
heard ridicule so long and so well sus-
tained. Sir James had not only hu-
mour, but he had wit also ; at least,
new and sudden relations of ideas
fashed across his mind in reasoning,
and produced the same effect as wit,
and would have been called wit, if a
sense of their utility and importance had
not often overpowered the admiration
of novelty, and entitled them to the
higher name of wisdom. Then the
great thoughts and fine sayings of the
great men of all ages were intimately
present to his recollection, and came
out dazzling and delighting in his con-
versation. Justness of thinking was a
strong feature of his understanding ; he
had a head in which nonsense and
error could hardly vegetate : it was a
soil utterly unfit for them. If his dis-
play in conversation had been only in
maintaining splendid paradoxes, he
would soon have wearied those he lived
with ; but no man could live long and
intimately with your father without
finding that he was gaining upon doubt,
correcting error, enlarging the bound-
aries, iind strengthening the founda-
tions of truth. It was worth while to
listen to a master, whom not himself
but nature had appointed to the office,
and who taught what it was not easy to
forget, by methods which it was not
easy to resist.

Curran, the Master of the Rolls,
said to Mr. Grattan, " You would be
the greatest man of your age, Grattan,
if you would buy a lew yards of red
tape, and tie up your bills and papers."

This was the fault or the misfortune
of your excellent father; he never
knew the use of red tape, and was
utterly unfit for the common business
of life. That a guinea represented a
quantity of shillings, and that it would
barter for a quantity of cloth, he was
well aware ; but the accurate number
of the baser coin, or the just measure-
ment of the manufactured article, to
which he was entitled for his gold, he
could never learn, and it was impos-
sible to teach him. Hence his life was
often an example of the ancient and
melancholy struggle of genius with the
difficulties of existence.

I have often heard Sir James Mack-
intosh say of himself that he was born
to be the Professor of an University.
Happy, and for ages celebrated, would
have been the University, which had
so possessed him ; but in this view he
was unjust to himself. Still, however,
his style of speaking in parliament
was certainly more academic than
forensic ; it was not sufficiently short
and quick for a busy and impatient
assembly. He often spoke over the
heads of his hearers — was too much
in advance of feeling for their sympa-
thies, and of reasoning for their com-
prehension. He began too much at
the beginning, and went too much to
the right and left of the question,
making rather a lecture or dissertation
than a speech. His voice was bad
and nasal ; and though nobody was
in reality more sincere, he seemed not
only not to feel, bu( hardly to think
what he was saying.

Your father had very little science,
and no great knowledge of physics.
His notions of his colVly pursuit —
the study of medicine — were imperfect
and antiquated, and he was but an
indifferent classical scholar, for the
Greek language has never crossed the
Tweed in any great force. In history,
the whole stream of time was open
before him; he had looked into every
moral and 'metaphysical question from
Plato to Paley, and had waded through
morasses of international law, where
the step of no living man could follow
him. Political economy is of modern
invention. I am old enough to re*

804

LETTER ON SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH.

collect when every judge of the bench
(Lord Eldon and Seijeant Runnington
excepted), in their charges to the
grand juries, attributed the then high
prices of com to the scandalous com-
bination of farmers. Sir James knew
what is commonly agreed upon by
political economists, without taking
much pleasure in the science, and with
a disposition to blame the very specu-
lative and metaphysical disquisitions
into which it has wandered, but with
a full conviction also (which many
able men of his standing are without)
of the immense importance of the
science to the welfare of society.

I think (though perhaps some of his
friends may not agree with me in this
opinion) that he was an acute judge of
character, and of the good as well as
evil in character. He was, in truth,
with the appearance of distraction and
of one occupied with other things, a
very minute observer of human nature;
and I have seen him analyse, to the
very springs of the heart, men who
bad not the most distant suspicion of
the sharpness of his vision, nor a be-
lief that he could read anything but
books.

SufiQcient justice has not been done
to his political integrity. He was not
rich, — was from the northern part of
the island, possessed great facility of
temper, and had therefore every excuse
for political lubricity, which that vice
(more common in those days than I
hope it will ever be again) could pos-
sibly require. Invited by every party
upon his arrival from India, he re-
mained steadfast to his old friends the
Whigs, whose admission to office, or
enjoyment of political power, would at
that period have been considered as the
most visionary of all human specula-
tions ; yet, during his lifetime, every-
body seemed more ready to have for-
given the tergiversation of which he
was not guilty, than to admire the
actual firmness he had displayed.
With all this he never made the slight-
est efforts to advance his interests with
his political friends, never mentioned
his sacrifices nor his services, expressed
no resentment at neglect, and was
therefore pushed into such situations

as fall to the lot of the feeble and deli-
cate in a crowd.

A high merit in Sir James Mack-
intosh was his real and unaffected
philanthropy. He did not make the
improvement of the g^eat mass of man-
kind an engine of popularity, and a
stepping-stone to power, but he had a
genuine love of human happiness.
Whatever might assuage the angry
passions, and arrange the conflicting
interests of nations ; whatever could
promote peace, increase knowledge,
extend commerce, diminish crime, and
encourage industry ; whatever could
exalt human character, and could en-
large human understanding, struck at
once at the heart of your father, and
roused all his faculties. I have seen
him in a moment when this spirit came
upon him — like a great ship of war —
cut his cable, and spread his enormous
canvas, and launch into a wide sea of
reasoning eloquence.

But though easily warmed by great
schemes of benevolence and human
improvement, his manner was cold to
individuals. There was an apparent
want of heartiness and cordiality. It
seemed as if he had more affection for
the species than for the ingredients of
which it was composed. He was in
reality very hospitable, and so fond of
company, that he was hardly happy out
of it; but he did not receive his friends
with that honest joy, which warms
more than dinner or wine.

This is the good and evil of your
father which comes uppermost. If he
had been arrogant and grasping; if he
had been faithless and false; if he had
been always eager to strangle infant
genius in its cradle; always ready to
betray and to blacken those with whom
he sat at meat; he would have passed
many men, who, in the course of his
long life, have passed him ; — but,
without selling his soul for pottage,
if he only had had a little moie
prudence for the promotion of his
interests, and more of angry passions
for the punishment of those detractors,
who envied his fame and presumed
upon his sweetness ; if he had been
more aware of his powers, and of that
space which nature intended him to

BALLOT.

sds

occupy; he woald have acted a great
part in life, and remained a character
in history. As it is, he has left, in
many of the hest men in England, and
of the Continent, the deepest admira-

tion of his talents, his wisdom, his
knowledge, and his benevolence.
I remain, my dear Sir,

Very truly yours,

SrDN£T £2111 tf.

BALLOT.

It is possible, and perhaps not very
difficult, to invent a machine, by the
aid of which electors may vote for a
candidate, or for two or three candi-
dates, out of a greater number, without
its being discovered for whom they
vote ; it is less easy than the rabid and
foaming Radical supposes ; but I have
no doubt it may be accomplislied. In
Mr. Grote's dap^ger ballot box, which
has been carried around the country
by eminent patriots, you stab the card
of your favourite candidate with a
dagger. I have seen another, called
the mouse-trap ballot box, in which
you poke your finger into the trap of
the member you prefer, and are caught
and detained till the trap-clerk below
(who knows by means of a wire when
you are caught) marks your vote, pulls
the liberator, and releases you. Which
may be the most eligible of these two
methods I do not pretend to determine,
nor do I think my excellent friend Mr.
Babbage has as yet made up his mind
on the subject ; but, by some means or
another, I have no doubt the thing may
be done.

Landed proprietors imagine they
have a right to the votes of their
tenants ; and instances, in every elec-
tion, are numerous where tenants have
been dismissed for voting eontrary to
the wishes of their landlords. In the
same manner strong combinations are
made against tradesmen who have
chosen to think, and act for themselves
in political matters, rather than yield
their opinions to the solicitations of their

Vol. IL

customers. There is a great (leal of
tyranny and injustice in all this. I
should no more think of asking what
the political opinions of a shopkeeper
were, than of asking whether he was
tall or short, or large or small : for a
difference of 2^- per cent. I would desert
the most aristocratic butcher that ever
existed, and deal with one who

" Shook the arsenal, and falmin'd over
Greece."

On the contrary, I would not adhere
to the man who put me in uneasy
habiliments, however great his venera-
tion for trial by jury, or however ardent
his attachment to the liberty of the
subject. . A tenant I never had ; but
I firmly believe that if he had gone
through certain pecuniary formalities
twice a year, I should have thought
it a gross act of tyranny to have in-
terfered either with his political or his
religions opinions.

I distinctly admit that every man
has a right to do what he pleases with
his own. I cannot, by law, prevent
any one from discharging his tenants,
and changing his tradesmen, for poli-
tical reasons ; but I may judge whether
that man exercises his right to the
public detriment, or for the public
advantage. A man has a right to
refuse dealing with any tradesman who
is not five feet eleven inches high ;
but if he act upon this rule, he is either
a madman or a fool. He has a right
to lay waste his own estate, and to
make it utterly barren; but I have

306

BALLOT.

also a right to point him oat as one
who exercises his right in a manner very
injnrioas to society. He may set np a
religious or a political test for his
tradesmen ; but admitting his right,
and deprecating all interference with
law, I must tell him he is making the
aristocracy odious to the great mass,
and that he is sowing the seeds of re-
volution. His purse may be full, and
Lis fields may be wide ; but the moral-
ist will still hold the rod. of public
opinion over his head, and tell the
money-bloated blockhead that he is
shaking those laws of property which
it has taken ages to extort from the
wretchedness and rapacity of mankind ;
and that what he calls his own will not
long be his own, if he tramples too
heavily on human patience.

All these practices are bad; but the
facts and the consequences are ex-
aggerated.

In the first place, the plough is not
a political machine: the loom and the
steam-engine are furiously political,
but the plough is not. Nineteen
tenants out of twenty care nothing
about their votes, and pull off their
opinions as easily to their landlords
as they do their hats. As far as the
great majority of tenants are con-
cerned, these histories of persecution
are mere declamatory nonsense; they
have no more predilection for whom
they vote than the organ pipes have
for what tunes they are to play. A
tenant dismissed for a fair and just
cause often attributes his dismissal to
political motives, and endeavours to
make himself a martyr with the
public: a man who ploughs badly, or
who pays badly, says he is dismissed
for his vote. No candidate is willing
to allow that he has lost his election
by his demerits; and he seizes hold
of these stories, and circulates them
with the greatest avidity : they are
stated in the House of Commons ;
John Russell and Spring Rice fall
a crying : there is lamentation of
Liberals in the land ; and many
groans for the territorial tyrants.

A standing reason against the fre-
quency of dismissal of tenants is that
it is always injurious to the pecuniary

interests of the landlord to dismiss a
tenant: the property always suffers in
some degree by a going-off tenant;
and it is therefore always the interest
of a landlord not to change when the
tenant does his duty as an agricul-
turalist.

To part with tenants for political
reasons always makes a landlord un-
popular. The Constitutional, price
4dl; the Cato, at 3jdl; and the Lucius
Junius Brutus, at 2d,, all set upon the
unhappy scutiger; and the squire, un-
used to be pointed at, and thinking
that all Europe and part of Asia are
thinking of him and his farmers, is
driven to the brink of suicide and
despair. That such things are done
is not denied, that they are scandalous
when they are done is equally true;
but these are reasons why such acts
are less frequent than they are com-
monly represented to be. - In the
same manner, there are instances of
shopkeepers being materially injured
in their business from the votes they
have given; but the facts themselves,
as wcU as the consequences, are
grossly exnggerated. If shopkeepers
lose Tory they gain Whig customen:;
and it is not always the vote which
does the mischief, but the low vulgar
impertinence, and the unbridled scur-
rility of a man, who thinks that by
dividing to mankind their rations of
butter and of cheese he has qualified
himself for legislation, and that he
can hold the rod of empire because
he has wielded the yard of mensura-
tion. I detest all inquisition into
political opinions, but I have very
rarely seen a combination against
any tradesman who modestly, quietly,
and conscientiously took his own line
in politics. But Brutus and butter-
man, cheesemonger and Cato, do not
harmonise well together; good taste
is offended, the coxcomb loses his
friends, and general disgust is mis-
taken for combined oppression. Shop-
keepers, too, are very apt to cry oat
before they are hurt : a man who sees
after an election one of his customers
buying a pair of gloves on the oppo-
site side of the way roars out that his
honesty will make him a baukraptf

BALLOT.

307

and tbe connty papers are filled with
letters from Brutas, Fublicola, Hamp-
den, and Pym.

This interference with the freedom
of voting, bad as it is, produces no
political deliberation ; it does not
make the Tories stronger than the
Whigs, nor the Whigs than the
Tories, for both are equally guilty of
this species of tyranny ; and any par-
ticular system of measures fails or
prevails, much as if no . such practice
existed. The practice had better not
be at all; but if a certain quantity of
the evil does exist, it is better that it
should be eqaally divided among both
parties, than that it should be exer-
cised by one, for the depression of the
other. There are politicians always
at a white heat, who suppose that
there are landed tyrants only on one
side of the question ; but human life
has been distressingly abridged by the
iiood : there is no time to spare, — it
is impossible to waste it upon such
senseless bigotry.

If a man bo sheltered from intimi-
dation, is it at all clear that he would
vote from any better motive than in-
timidation? If you make so tremen-
dous an experiment, are you sure of
attaining your object? The landlord
has perhaps said a cross word to the
tenant; the candidate for whom the
tenant votes in opposition to his land-
lord has taken his second son for a
footman, or his father knew the candi-
date's grandfather : how many thou-
sand votes, sheltered (as the ballotists
suppose) from intimidation, would be
given from such silly motives as these?
how many would be giveff from the
mere discontent of inferiority ? or
i'rom that strange simious schoolboy
passion of giving pain to others, even
when the author cannot be found out?
< — motives as pernicious as any which
could proceed from intimidation. So
that all voters screened by ballot
would not be screened for any public
good.

The Radicals, (I do not use this
word in any offensive sense, for I
know many honest and excellent men
of this way of thinking,) — but the
Radicals praise and admit the lawful

influence of wealth and power. They
are quite satisfied if a rich man of
popular manners gains the votes and
affections of his dependants; but why
is not this as bad as intimidation?
The real object is to Tote for the good
politician, not for the kind-hearted or
agreeable man : the mischief is just
the same to the country whether I
am smiled into a corrupt choice, or
frowned into a corrupt choice, — what
is it to me whether my landlord is the
best of landlords, or the most agree-'
able of men ? I must vote for Joseph
Hume, if I think Joseph more honest
than the Marquis. The more miti-
gated Radical may pass over this, but
tbe real carnivorous variety of the
animal should declaim as loudly
against the fascinations as against the
threats of the great. The man who
possesses the land should never speak
to the man who tills it. The inter-
course between landlord and tenant
should be as strictly guarded as that
of the sexes in Turkey. A funded
duenna should be placed over every
landed grandee. — And then intimi-
dation 1 Is intimidation confined to
the aristocracy? Can anything be
more scandalous and atrocious than
the intimidation of mobs? Did not
the mob of Bristol occasion more ruin,
wretchedness, death, and alarm than
all the ejection of tenants, and com-
binations against shopkeepers, from
the beginning of the century? and
did not the Scotch philosophers tear
off the clothes of the Tories in Minto-
shire ? or at least such clothes as the
customs of the country admit of being
worn? — and did not they, without
any reflection at all upon the customs
of the country, wash the Tory voters
in the river?

Some sanguine advocates of the
ballot contend that it would put an
end to all canvassing: why should it
do so? Under the ballot, I canvass
(it is true) a person who may secretly
deceive me. I cannot be sure he will
not do so — but I am sure it is much
less likely he will vote against me,
when I have paid him all the defer-
ence and attention which a represen-
tative bestows on his constituents, than
• X 2

308

BALLOT,

if I had totaUj neglected him: to anj
other objections he may have against
me, at least I will not add that of
personal incivilitj.

Scarcely is any great virtoe prac-
tised without some sacrifice; and the
admiration which virtue excites seems
to proceed from the contemplation of
such sufferings, and of the exertions
by which they are endured : a trades-
man suffers some loss of trade by
voting for his country ; is he not to
vote? he might suffer some loss of
blood in fighting for his country; is
he not to fight? Every one would be
a good Samaritan, if he were quite
sure his compassion would cost him
nothing. We should all be heroes, if
it were Bot for blood and fractures^
all saints, if it were not for the re-
strictions and privations of sanctity;
all patriots, if it were not for the
losses and misrepresentations to which
patriotism exposes ua. The ballotists
are a set of Englishmen glowing with
the love of England and the love of
virtue, but determined to hazard the
most dangerous experiments in politics,
rather than run thd risk of losing a
penny in defence of their exalted
feelings.

An abominable tyranny exercised
by the ballot is, that it compels those
persons to conceal their votes, who
hate all concealment, and who glory
in the cause they support. If you are
afraid to go in at the front door, and
t« say in a clear voice what yon have
to say, go in at the back door, and say
it in a whisper — but this is not enough
for you ; you make me, who am bold
and honest, sneak in at the back door
as well as yourself :. because you are
afraid of selling a dozen or two of
gloves less than usual, you compel me,
who have no gloves to sell, or who
would dare and despise the loss if I
had, to hide the best feelings of my
heart,, and to lower myself down to
youi mean morals. It is as if a few
cowards, who could only fight behind
walls and houses, were to prevent the
whole regiment from showing a bold
front in the field : what right has the
coward to degrade me who am no
coward, and put me in the same

shameful predicament with himself?
If ballot be established, a zealous Toter
cannot do justice to bis cause ; there
will be so many false Hampdens, and
spurious Catos, that all men's actions
and motives will be mistrusted. It is
in the power of any man to tell me
that my colours are false, that I de-
claim with simulated warmth, and
canvass with fallacious seal ; that I
am a Tory, though I call Russell for
ever, or a Whig, in spite of my obstre-
peroQS panegyrics pf Peel, It is really
a cnrioBS condition that all men must
imitate the defects of a few, in order
that it may not be known who have the
natural imperfection, and who put it
on from conformity. In this way in
former days, to hide the grey hairs of
the old, everybody was forced to wear
powder and pomatum.

It must not be forgotten that, in the
ballot, concealment must be absolutely
compuhory^ It would never do to let
one man vote openly, and another
secretly. You may go to the edge of
the box and say, ** I vote for A.," but
who knows that your ball is not put in
for B. ? There must be a clear plain
opportunity for telling an undiscover-
able lie, or the whole inventipn is at an
end. How beautiful is the progress of
man I — printing has abolished ignor-
ance — gas pat an end to darkness —
steam has conquered time and distance
— it remained for Grote and his box
to remove the encumbrance of truth
from human transactions. May we not
look now for more little machines to
abolish the other cardinal virtues?

But if all men are suspected; if
things are so contrived that it is im-
possible to know what men really think,
a serious impediment is created to the
formation of good public opinion in the
multitude. There is a town (No. 1.)
in which live two very clever asd
respectable men, Johnson and Tel-
ham, small tradesmen, men always
willing to run some risk for the public
good, and to be less rich, and more
honest than their neighbours. It is of
considerable consequence to the for-
mation of opinion in this town, as an
example, to know how Johnson and
Pelham vote. It guides the affections,

BAIXOT.

309

and directs the nnderstandings, of the
whole population, and materiallj affects
public opinion in this town; and in
another borough (No. 2.)* it would be
of the highest importance to public
opinion if it were certain how Mr.
Smith, the ironmonger, and Mr.
Rogers, the London carrier, voted ;
because they are both thoroughly
honest men, and of excellent under*
standing for their condition of life.
Now, the tendency of ballot would be
to destroy all the Pelhams, Johnsons,
Iiogers*s, and Smiths, to sow a uni-
versal mistrust, and to exterminate the
natural guides and leaders of the peo-
ple : political influence, founded upon
honour and ancient honesty in politics,
could not grow up under such a system.
No man's declaration could get believed.
It would be easy to whisper away the
character of the best men ; and to as-
sert that, in spite of all his declarations,
which are nothing but a blind, the
romantic Rogers has voted on the other
side, and is in secret league with our
enemies.

"Who brought that mischievous
profligate villain into Parliament?
Let us see the names of his real sup-
porters. Who stood out against the
strong and uplifted arm of power?
Who discovered this excellent and
hitherto unknown person ? Who op-
posed the man whom we all know to
be one of the first men in the country ? "
Are these fair and useful questions to
be veiled hereafter in impenetrable
mystery ? Is this sort of publicity of
no good as a restraint ? is it of no
good as an incitement to and a reward
for exertions ? Is not public opinion
formed by such feelings? and is it not a
dark and demoralising system to draw
this veil over human actions, to say to
the mass, be base, and you will not
be despised ; be virtuous, and you will
not be honoured ? Is this the way in
which Mr. Grote would foster the
spirit of a bold ' and indomitable
people ? Was the liberty of that
people established by fraud? Did
America lie herself into independence?
Was it treachery which enabled Hol-
land to shake off the yoke of Spain ?
Is there any instance since the begin-

ning of the world where human liberty
has been established by little systems of
trumpery and trick? These are the wea-
pons of monarchs against the people,
not of the people against monarchs.
With their own right hand, and with
their mighty arm, have the people
gotten to themselves the victory, and
upon them may they ever depend;
and then comes Mr. Grote, a scholar
and a gentleman, and knowing all the
histories of public courage, preaches
cowardice and treachefry to England ;
tells us that the bold cannot be free,
and bids us seek for liberty by clothing
ourselves in the mask of falsehood,
and trampling on the cross of truth.*

If this shrinking from the performance
of duties is to be tolerated, voters are
not the only persons who would recur
to the accommodating convenience of
ballot. A member of Parliament who
votes against Government can get
nothing in the army, navy, or Church,
or at the bar, for his children or him-
self : they are placed on the north
wall, and starved for their honesty.
Judges, too, suffer for their unpopu-
larity — Lord Kilwarden was murdered.
Lord Mansfield burnt down ! but
voters, forgetting that they are only
trustees for those who have no vote,
require that they themselves should bo
virtuous with impunity, and that all
the penalties of austerity and Catonism
should fall upon others. I am aware
that it is of the greatest consequence
to the constituent that he should be
made acquainted with the conduct of
his representative ; but I maintain,
that to know, without the fear of mis-
take, what the conduct of individuals
has been in their fulfilment of the great
trust of electing members of Parlia-
ment, is alpo of the greatest importance
in the formation of public opinion ;
and that, when men acted in the dark,
the power of distinguishing between
the bad and good would be at an end.
To institute ballot is to apply a very
dangerous innovation to a temporary
evil ; for it is seldom, but in very ex-
cited times, that these acts of power

• Mr. Grote is a very worthy, honest, and
able man ; and if the world were a chess-
board, would be an important politician.

Z3

310

BALLOT.

are complained of which the ballot is
intended to remedy. There never was
an instance in this coantrjr where par-
ties were so nearly balanced ; but all
this will pass away, and, in a very few
years^ either Peel will swallow Lord
John, or Lord John will pasture upon
Peel ; parties will coalesce, the Duke
of Wellington and Viscount Melbourne
meet at the same board, and the lion
lie down with the lamb. In the mean-
time a serious and dangerous political
change is resorted to for the cure of
a temporary evil, and we may be
cursed with ballot when we do not
want it, and cannot get rid of it.

If there be ballot there can be no
scrutiny, the controlling power of Par-
liament is lost, and the members are
entirely in the hands of returning
ofScers.

An election is hard run — the re-
turning officer lets in twenty votes
which he ought to have excluded,
and the opposite candidate is unjustly
returned. I petition, and as the law
now stands, the return would be
amended, and I, who had the legiti-
mate majority, should be seated in Par-
liament. ' But how could justice be
done if the ballot obtained, and if
the returning officer were careless or
corrupt ? Would you put all the elec-
tors upon their oath? Would it be
advisable to accept any oath where
detection was impossible ? and could
any approximation to truth be ex-
pected under such circumstances, from
such an inquisition ? It is true, the
present committees of the House of
Commons are a very unfair tribunal,
but that tribunal may and will be
amended ; and bad as that tribunal is,
nobody can be insane enough to pro-
pose that we are to take refuge in the
blunders or the corruptions of 600
returning officers, 100 of whom are
Irish.

It is certainly in the power of a com-
mittee, when incapacity or villany of
the returning officer has produced an
unfair return, to annul the whole elec-
tion and to proceed again de novo ; but
how is this just ? or what satisfaction
is this to me, who have unquestionably
a lawful majority, and who ask of the

House- of Commons to examine the
votes, and to place in their house the
man who has combined the greatest
number of suffrages? The answer of
the House of Commons is, " One of you
is undoubtedly the rightful member,
but we have so framed our laws of
election, that it is impossible to find
out which that man is ; the loss and
penalties ought only to fall upon one,
but they must fall upon both ; we put
the well-doer and the evil-doer pre-
cisely in the same situation, there shall
be no election ; " and this may happen
ten times running.

Parity of election, the faif choice of
representatives, must be guarded either
by the coercing power of the House of
Commons exercised upon petitions, or
it must be guarded by the watchful
jealousy of opposite parties at the re-
gistrations ; but if (as the Badicals
suppose) ballot gives a power of per-
fect concealment, whose interest is it
to watch the registrations ? If I. des-
pair of distinguishing my friends from
my foes, why should I take any trouble
about registrations? Why not leave
everything to that great primum mobile
of all human affisiirs, the barrister of six
years* standing ?

The answer of the excellent Ben-
thamites to all this is, ** What yon say
may be true enough in the present
state of registrations, but we have
another scheme of registration to which
these objections will not apply." There
is really no answering this Paulopost
legislation. I reason now upon regis-
tration and reform which are in exist-
ence, which I have seen at work for
several years. What new improve-
ments are in the womb of time, or (if
time have no womb) in the more capa-
cious pockets of the followers of Ben-
tham, I know not : when I see them
tried I will reason upon theifi. There
is no end to these eternal changes ; we
have made an enormous revolution
within the last ten years, — let us
stop a little and secure it, and prevent
it iVom being turned into ruin ; I do
not say the Reform Bill is final, but 1
want a little time for breathing ; and it'
there are to be any more changes, let
I them be carried into execution hereafter

BALLOT.

811

by those little legislators who axe now
receiving every day after dinner a cake
or a plum, in happy ignorance of Mr.
Grote and bis ballot. I long for the
qniet times of Log^ when all the En«
glish common people are making
calico, and all the English gentlemen
are making long and short verses, with
no other interruption of their happi-
ness than when false quantities are dis-
covered in one or the other.

What is to become of petitions if
ballot is established? Are they to be
open as they now are, or are they to
be conducted by ballot? Are the
radical shopkeepers and the radical
tenant to be exposed (as they say) to
all the fury of incensed wealth and
power, and is that protection to be
denied to them in petitions, which is
so loudly demanded in the choice of
representatives? Are there to be two
distinct methods of ascertaining the
opinions of the people, and these com-
pletely opposed to each other? A
member is chosen this week by a large
majority of voters who vote in the
dark, and the next week, when men
vote in the light of day, some petition
is carried totally opposite to all those
principles for which the member with
invisible votes was returned to Parlia-
ment. How, under such a system, can
Parliament ever ascertain what the
wishes of the people really are? The
representatives are Radicals, the peti-
tioners eminently conservative ; the
voice is the voice of Jacob, but the
hands are the hands of Esau.

And if the same protection be
adopted for petitions as is given in
elections, and if both are conducted
by ballot, how are the House of Com-
mons to deal with petitions? When
it is intended particularly that a peti-
tion should attract the attention of the
House of Commons, some member
bears witness to the respectability or
the futility of the signatures; and how
is it possible, without some guides of
this kind, that the House could form
any idea of the value and importance
of the petition ?

These observations apply with equal
force to the communications between
the representative and the constituent.

It is the Radical doctrine that a repre-
sentative is to obey the instructions of
his constituents. He has been elected
under the ballot by a large majority;
an open meeting is called, and he
receives instructions in direct oppo-
sition to all those principles upon
which he has been elected. Is this
the real opinion of his constituents ?
and if he receive his instructions for a
ballot meeting, who are his instruc-
tors? The lowest men in the town, or
the wisest and the best? — But if ballot
be established for elections only, and
all communications between the con-
stituents on one side, and Parliament
and the representatives on the other,
are carried on in open meetings, then
are there two publics according to the
Radical, doctrines, essentially differing
from each other; the one acting under
the influence of the rich and powerful,
the other free; and if all political peti-
tions are to be carried on by ballot,
how are Parliament to know who
petitions, or the member to know who
instructs ?

I have hitherto spoken of ballot, as
if it were, as the Radicals suppose ir.
to be, a mean of secrecy; their very
cardinal position is, that landlords,
after the ballot is established, will give
up in despair all hopes of command-
ing the votes of their tenants. I
scarcely ever heard a more foolish and
gratuitous assumption. Given up ?
Why should they be given up? I can
give many reasons why landlords
should never exercise this unreason-
able power, but I can give no possible
reason why a man determined to do
so should be baffled by the ballot.
When two great parties in the empire
are combating for the supreme power,
does Mr. Grote imagine, that the man
of woods, forests, and rivers, — that
they who have the strength of the
hills, — are to be baffled by bumpkins
thrusting a little pin into a little card
in a little box? that England is to be
governed by political acupunctuation ?

A landlord who would otherwise be
guilty of the oppression will not change
his purpose, because you attempt to
outwit him by the invention of the
ballot; he will become, on the con-

X 4

312

BALLOT,

trary, doubly yigflant, inqnisitive, and
severe. ** I am a professed Radical,"
said the tenant of a great duke to a
friend of mine, ** and the duke knows
it; but if I vote for fats candidates, he
lets me talk as I please, live with
whom I please, and does Bot care if I
dine at a Radical dinner everj day in
the week. If there was a ballot, no-
thing could persuade the duke, or the
duke's master, the steward, that I was
not deceiving them, and I should lose
my farm in a week." This is the
real history of what would take place.
The single lie on the hustings would
not suffice; the concealed democrat
who voted against his landlord must
talk with the wrong people, subscribe
to the wron«^ club, huzza at the wrong
dinner, break the wrong head, lead (if
he wished to escape from the watchftil
jealousy of his landlord) a long life of
lies between every Section; and he
must do this, not only eundo, in his
calm and prudential state, but redeundo
from the market, warmed with beer,
and expanded by alcohol ; and he
must not only carry on his seven years
of dissimulation before the world, but
in the very bosom of his family, or he
must expose himself to the dangerous
garrulity of wife, children, and ser-
vants, hrom whose indiscretion every
^kind of evil report would be carried to
the ears of the watchful steward. And
when once the ballot is established,
mere gentle, quiet lying will not do to
hide the tenant who secretly votes
against his landlord: the quiet passive
liar will be suspected, and he will find,
if he does not wave his bonnet and
strain his throat in furtherance of his
bad faith, and lie loudly, that he has
put in a false ball in the dark to very
little purpose. I consider a long con-
cealment of political opinion from the
landlord to be nearly impossible for
the tenant: and if you conceal from
the landlord the only proof he can
have of his tenant^s sincerity, you are
taking from the tenant the only means
he has of living quietly upon his farm.
You are increasing the jealousy and
irascibility of the tyrant, and multiply-
ing instead of lessening the number of
his victims.

Not only yon do not protect the
tenant who wishes to deceive his land-
lord, by promising one way and voting
another, but you expose all the other
tenants who have no intention of de-
ceiving, to all the evils of mistake and
misrepresentation. The steward hates
a tenant, and a rival wants his farm;
they begin to whisper him out of
favour, and to propagate ramours of
his disaffection to the blue or the
yellow cause; as matters now stand
he can refer to the poll-book and show
how he has voted. Under the ballot
his security is gone, and he is exposed
in common with his deceitful neigh-
bour, to that suspicion from which
none can be exempt when all vote in
secret. If ballot then answered the
purpose for which it was intended, the
number of honest tenants whom it ex-
posed to danger would be as great as
the number of deceitful tenants whom
it screened.

But if landlords could be prevented
from influencing their tenants in voting,
by threatening them with the loss of
farms ; — if public opinion were too
strong to allow of such threats, what
would prevent a landlord from refus-
ing to take, as a tenant, a man whose
political opinion did not agree with
his own? what would prevent him
from questioning, long before the elec-
tion, and cross-examining his tenant,*
and demanding certificates of his be-
haviour and opinions, till he had, ac*
cording to aH human probability,
found a man who felt as strongly as
himself upon political subjects, and
who would adhere to those opinions
with as much firmness and tenacity?
What would prevent, for instance, an
Orange landlord from filling his farms
with Orange tenants, and from cau-
tiously rejecting every Catholic tenant
who presented himself plough in hand?
But if this practice were to obtain ge-
nerally, of cautiously selecting tenants
from their politioal opinion, what
would become of the sevenfold shield
of- the ballot ? Not only this tenant is
not continued in the farm he already
holds, bat he finds, from the severe
inquisition into which men of property
are driven by the invention of ballot.

BALLOT,

dl3

that it is extremely difficult for a roan
whose principles are opposed to those
of his landlord, to get any farm at all.

The noise and jollity of a ballot mob
must be such as the very devils would
look on with delight A set of deceit-
ful wretches wearing the wrong colours,
abusing their Mends, pelting the man
for whom they voted, drinking their
enemies' punch, knocking down persons
with whom they entirely agreed, and
roaring out eternal duration to princi-
ples they abhorred. A scene of whole-
sale bacchanalian fraud, a posse comi-
tatus of liars, which would disgust any
man* with a free government, and make
him sigh for the monocracy of Con-
stantinople.

All the argnme&ts which apply to
suspected tenants apply to suspected
shopkeepers. Their condition under
the ballot would be infinitely worse
than under the present system; the
veracious shopkeeper would be sus-
pected, perhaps without having his vote
to appeal to for his protection, and the
shopkeeper who meant to deceive must
prop up his fraud, by accommodating
his whole life to the first deceit, or he
would have told a disgraceful falsehood
in veun. The political persecutors
would not he baffled by the ballot:
customers who think they have a right
to persecute tradesmen now, would do
it then ; the only difference would be
that more would be persecuted then on
suspicion, than are prosecuted now
from a full knowledge of every man's
vote. Inquisitors would be exas-
perated by this attempt of their victims
to become invisible, and the search for
delinquents would be more sharp and
incessant.

A state of things may (to be sure)
occur where the aristocratic part of the
voters may be desirous, by concealing
their votes, of protecting themselves
from the fury of the multitude; but
precisely the same objection obtains
against ballot, whoever may be the
oppressor or the oppressed. It is no
defence ; the single falsehood at the
hustings will not suffice. Hypocrisy
for seven years is impossible ; the mul-
titude will be just as jealous of preserv-
ing the power of intimidation, as aris-

tocrats are of preserving the power of
property, and will in the same way re-
double their vicious activity from the
attempt at destroying their empire by
ballot.

Ballot could not prevent the disfran-
chisement of a great number of voters.
The shopkeeper, harassed by men of
both parties, equally consuming the
articles in which he dealt, would seek
security in not voting at all, and, of
course, the ballot could not screen the
disobedient tenant whom the landlord
requested to stay away from the poll.
Mr. Grote has no box for this ; but a
remedy for securing the freedom of
election, which has no power to pre-
vent the voter from losing the exercise
of his franchise altogether, can scarcely
.be considered as a remedy at all.
There is a method, indeed, by which
this might be remedied, if the great
soul of Mr. Grote will stoop to adopt
it. Why are the acts of concealment
to be confined to putting in a ball ?
Why not vote in a domino, taking off
the vizor to the returning officer only?
or as tenant Jenkins or tenant Hodge
might be detected by their stature, why
not poll in sedan chairs with the cur-
tains closely drawn, choosing the chair-
man by ballot ?

What a flood of deceit and villany
comes in with ballot I I admit there
are great moral faults under the
present system. It is a serious viola-
tion of duty to vote for A. when you
think B. the more worthy represent-
ative; but the open voter, acting under
the influence of his landlord, commits
only this one fault, great as it is : — if
he vote for his candidate, the landlord
is satisfied, and asks no other sacrifice
of truth and opinion ; hut if the tenant
vote against his landlord under the
ballot, he is practising every day some
fraud to conceal his first deviation from
truth. The present method may pro-
duce a vicious act, but the ballot esta-
blishes a vicious habit ; and then it is
of some consequence, that the law
should not range itself on the side of
vice. In the open voting, the law leaves
you fairly to choose between the dan-
gers of giving an honest, or the con-
venience of giving a dishonest vote ;

314

BALLOT.

but the ballot law opens a booth and
'asylum for fraud, calling upon all men
to lie by beat of drum, forbidding open
honesty, promising impunity for the
most scandalous deceit, and encourag-
ing men to take no other view of virtue
than whether it pays or does not pay ;
for it must always be remembered and
often repeated, and said and sung to
Mr. Grote, that it is to the degraded
liar only that the box will be useful.
The man who performs what he pro-
mises needs no box. The man who
refuses to do what he is asked to do
despises the box. The liar, who says
he will do what he never means to do,
is the only man to whom the box is
useful, and for whom this leaf out of
the punic Pandects is to be inserted in
our statute book $ the other vices will
begin to look up, and to think them-
selves neglected, if falsehood obtains
such flattering distinction, and is thus
defended by the solemn enactments of
law.

Old John Randolph, the American
orator, was asked one day at a dinner
party in London, whethei* the ballot
prevailed in his state of Virginia — **I
scarcely believe," he said, ** we have
such a fool in ail Virginia, as to men-
tion even the vote by ballot ; and I do
not hesitate to say that the aidoption of
the ballot would make any nation a
nation of scoundrels if it did not find
them so" John Bandolph was right ;
he felt that it was not necessary that a
people should be false in order to be
free ; uinversal hypocrisy would be the
consequence of ballot: we should soon
say on deliberation what David only
asserted in his haste, that all men were
liars.

This exclamation of old Randolph
applied to the method of popular elec-
tions, which I believe has always been
by open voice in Virginia ; but the as-
semblies voted, and the Judges were
chosen by ballot ; and in the year 183.0,
upon a solemn review of their institu-
tions, ballot was entirely abolished in
every instance throughout the State,
and open voting substituted in its place.

Not only would the tenant under
ballot be constantly exposed to the
suspicions of the landlord, but the land-

lord would be exposed to the constant
suspicions and the unjnst misrepresenta-
tion of the tenant. 'Eivtry tenant who
was dismissed for a fair and a jast
cause, would presume he was suspected,
would attribute his dismissal to political
motives, and endeavour to make himself
a martyr with the public ; and in this
way violent hatred would be by the
ballot disseminated among classes of
men on whose agreement the order and
happiness of England depends.

All objections to ballot which are
important in England, apply with
much greater force to Ireland, a conn-
try of intense agitation, fierce passions,
and quick movements. Then how
would the ballot box of Mr. Grote har-
monise with the confessional box of
Father O'Leary?

I observe Lord John Russell, and some
important men as well as him, saying,
** We hate ballot, but if these practices
continue, we shall be compelled to vote
for it." What ! vote for it, if ballot be
no remedy for these evils? Vote for
it, if ballot produce still greater evils
than it cures? That is (says the phy-
sician), if fevers increase in this alarm-
ing manner, I shall be compelled to
make use of some medicine which will
be of no use to fevers, and will at the
same time bring on diseases of a much
more serious nature. I shall be under
the absolute necessity of putting oat
your eyes, because I cannot prevent
you from being lame. In fact, this
sort of language is utterly unworthy of
the sense and courage of Lord John ;
he gives hopes where he ought to create
absolute despair. This is that hover-
ing between two principles which ruins
political strength by lowering political
character, and creates a notion that
his enemies need not fear such a man,
and that his friends cannot trnst him.
No opinion could be more unjust as
applied to Lord John ; but such an
opinion will grow if he begin to value
himself more upon his dexterity and
finesse, than upon those fine manly
historico-Russell qualities he most un-
doubtedly possesses. There are two
beautiful words in the English lan-
guage, — ^Yes and Noj he must pro-
nounce them boldly and emphatically;

BALLOT.

315

stick to Yes and No to the death ; for
Yes and No lay his head d^wn upon
the scaffold, inhere his ancestors have
laid their heads before, and cling to
his Yes and No in spite if Kobert
Peel and John Wilson, and Joseph,
and Daniel, and Fergas, and Stephens
himself. He mast do as the Bussells
always have done, advance his firm
foot on the field of honoar, plant it on
the line marked out by justice, and de-
termine in that cause to perish cr to
prevail.

In clubs, ballot preserves secrecy;
bat in clubs, after the barrister has
blackballed the colonel, he most likely
never hears of the colonel again : he
does not live among people who are
calling out for seven years the colonel
for ever; nor is there any one who,
thinking he has a right to the barris-
ter's suffrage, exercises the most in-
cessant vigilance to detect whether or
not he has been defrauded of it. I do
not say that ballot can never in any
instance be made a mean of secrecy
and safety, but that it cannot be so in
popular elections. Even in elections, a
consummate hypocrite who was un-
mari'ied, and drank water, might per-
haps exercise his timid patriotism with
impunity ; but the instances would be
so rare, as to render ballot utterly in-
efficient as a general protection against
the abuses of power.

In America, ballot is nearly a dead
letter ; no protection is wanted : if the
ballot protects any one it is the master,
not the man. Some of the States have
no ballot — some have exchanged the
ballot for open voting.

Bribery carried on in any town now,
would probably be carried on with
equal success under the ballot. The
attorney (if such a system prevailed)
would say to the candidate, ** There is
my list of promises : if you come in I
will have 5000/., and if you do not,
you shall pay me nothing.'' To this
list, to which I suppose all the venal
rabble of the town to have put their
names, thiere either is an opposition
bribery list, or there is not : if there
is not, the promisers, looking only ta
make money by their vote, have every
inducement to keep their word. If

there be an opposite list, the only trick
which a promiser can play is to put
down his name upon both lists: but
this trick would be so easily detected,
so much watched and suspected, and
would even in the vote market render
a man so infamous, that it never would
be attempted to any great extent. At
present, if a man promise his vote to
A, and votes for B., because he can
^et more money by it, he does not
become infamous among the bribed,
because they lose no money by him ;
but where a list is found, and a cer-
tain sum of money is to be divided
among that list, every interloper lessens
the receipts of all the rest ; it becomes
their interest to guard against fraudu-
lent intrusion ; and a man who puts
his name upon more lists than the votes
he was entitled to give, would soon he
hunted down by those he had robbed.
{)[ course there would be no pay
till after the election, and the man
who having one vote had put himself
down on two lists, or having two votes
had put himself down on three lists,
could hardly fail to be detected, and
would, of course, lose his political
aceldama. There must be honour
among thieves ; the mob regularly
inured to bribery under the canopy of
the ballot, would for their own sake
soon introduce rules for the distribu-
tion of the plunder, and infuse witli
their customary energy, the morality
of not being sold more than once at
every election.

If ballot were established, it would
be received by the upper classes with
the greatest possible suspicion, and
every effort would be made to counter-
act it and to get rid of it. Against
those attacks the inferior orders would
naturally wish to strengthen them-
selves, and the obvious means would
be by extending the number of voters;
and so comes on universal suffrage.
The ballot would fail : it would be
found neither to prevent intimidation
nor bribery. Universal suffrage would
cure both, as a teaspoonful of prussic
a«id is a certain cure for the most
formidable diseases ; but universal suff-
rage would in all probability be the
next step. "The 200 richest voters

316

BALLOT.

of Bridport shall not beat the 400
poorest voters. Everybody who has
n bouse shall vote, or everybody who
is twenty-one shall vote, and then the
people will be sare to have their way
— we will blackball every member
standing for Bridgewater who does
not promise to vote for universal suff-
rage."

The ballot and universal suffrage
are never mentioned by the Radicals
without being coupled together. No-
bt>dy ever thinks of separating them.
Any person who attempted to separate
them at torchlight or sunlight meet-
ings would be hooted down. It is
professed^ avowed that ballot is only
wanted for ulterior purposes, and no
one makes a secret of what those
ulterior purposes are: not only would
the gift of ballot, if universal suffrage
were refused, not be received with
gratitude, but it would be received
with furious indignation and con-
tempt, and universal suffrage be
speedily extorted from you.

There would be this argument also
for universal suffrage, to which I do
not think it very easy to find an
answer. The son of a man who rents
a house of ten pouiids a year is often a
much cleverer man than his father; the
wife more intelligent than the husband.
Under the system of open voting,
these persons are not excluded from
want of intellect, but for want of in-
dependence, for they would necessarily
vote with their principal; but the
moment the ballot is established, ac-
cording to the reasoning of the Grote
school, one man is as independent as
another, because all are concealed,
and so all are equally entitled to offer
their suffrages. This cannot sow dis-
sensions in families; for how, balloti-
ccUy reasoning, can the father find it
out? or, if he did find it out, how has
any father, ballotically speaking, a
right to control the votes of his family?

I have often drawn a picture in my
own mind of a Balloto>-Grotical family
voting and promising under the new
system. There is one vacancy, and
three candidates, Tory, Whig, and
Kadical. Walter Wiggins, a small
aitiiicer of shoes, for the moderate

gratuity of five pounds, promises his
own vote, and that of the chaste
Arabella his wife, to the Tory candi-
date; he, Walter Wiggins, having also
sold, for one sovereign, the vote of the
before-named Arabella to the Whigs.
Mr. John Wiggins, a tailor, the male
progeny of Walter and Arabella, at
the solicitation of his master, promises
his vote to the Whigs, and persuades
his sister Honoria to make a similar
promise in the same cause. Arabella,
the wife, yields implicitly to the wishes
of her husband. In this way, before
the election, stand committed the
highly moral family of Mr. Wiggins.
The period for lying arrives, and the
mendacity machine is exhibited to the
view of the Wigginses. What hap-
pens? Arabella, who has in the
interim been chastised by her drunken
husband, votes secretly for the Radi-
cals, having been sold both to Whig
and Tory. Mr. John Wiggins, pledged
beyond redemption to Whigs, votes
for the Tory ; and Honoria, extrinsi-
cally furious in the cause of Whigs, is
persuaded by her lover to vote for
the Radical member. The following
Table exhibits the state of this moral
family, before and after the election :

Walter Wiggins sells himself once and his

wife twice
Arabella Wiggins, sold to Tory and Whig.

votes for BadicaL
John Wiggins, promised to Whig, votes for

Tory.
Honoria Wiggins, promised to Whig, votes

for BadicaL

In this way the families of the poor,
under the legislation of Mr. Grote,
will become schools for good faith,
openness, and truth! What are Chry-
sippus and Grantor, and all the
moralists of the whole world, com-
pared to Mr. Grote?

It is urged that the lower order of
voters, proud of such a distinction,
will not be anxious to extend it to
others: but the lower order of voters
will often find that they possess this
distinction in vain — that wealth and
education are too strong for them;
and they will call in the multitude as
auxiliaries, firmly believing that they
can curb their inferiors and conquer

BALLOT.

S17

their superiors. Ballot is a mere illu-
sion, but universal suffrage is not an
illusion. The common people will
get nothing by the one, but they will
gain everything, and ruin everything,
by the last.

Some members of Parliament who
mean to vote for ballot, in the fear of
losing their seats, and who are desirous
of reconciling to their conscience such
an act of disloyalty to mankind, are
fond of saying that ballot is harmless ;
that it will neither do the good nor
the evil that is expected from it ; and
that the people may fairly be indulged
in such an innocent piece of legisla-
tion. Never was such folly and mad-
ness as this: ballot will be the cause
of interminable hatred and jealousy
among the different orders of man-
kind ; it will familiarise the English
people to a long tenor of deceit ; it
will not answer its purpose of protect-
ing the independent voter, and the
people, exasperated and disappointed
by the failure, will indemnify them-
selves by insisting upon unlimited
suffrage. And then it is talked of as
an experiment, as if men were talking
of acids and alkalies, and the galvanic
pile; as if Lord John could get on the
hustings and say, '* Gentlemen, you
see this ballot does not answer; do
me the favour to give it up, and to
allow yourselves to be replaced in the
same situation as the ballot found
you." Such, no doubt, is the history
of nations and the march of human
affairs ; and, in this way, the error of
a sudden and foolish largess of power
to the people might, no doubt, be
easily retrieved ! The most unpleasant
of all bodily feelings is a cold sweat :
nothing brings it on so surely as
perilous nonsense in politics. I lose
all warmth from the bodily frame
when I hear the ballot talked of as an
experiment

I cannot at all understand what is
meant by this indolent opinion. Votes
are coerced now; if votes are free,
will the elected be the same ? if not,
will the difference of the elected be
unimportant? Will not the ballot
stimulate the upper orders to fresh
exertions ? and is their increased jea-

lousy and interference of no import-
ance? If ballot, afcer all, be found
to hold out a real protection to the
voter, is universal lying of no import-
ance ? I can understand what is
meant by calling ballot a great good,
or a great evil; but, in the mighty
contention for power which is raging
in this country, to call it indifferent,
appears to me extremely foolish in all
those in whom it is not extremely
dishonest

If the ballot did succeed in enabling
the lower order of voters to conquer
their betters, so much the worse. In
a town consisting of 700 voters, the
300 most opulent and powerful (and
therefore probably the best instructed)
would make a much better choice than
the remaining 400 ; and the ballot
would, in that case, do more harm
than good. In nineteen cases out of
twenty, the most numerous paity
would be in the wrong. If this be
the case, why give the franchise to
all ? why not confine it to the first
division ? because even with all the
abuses whihh occur, and in spite of
them^ the great mass of die people are
much more satisfied with Juiviny a vote
occa^ionaJly controlled^ than with having
none. Many agree with their supe-
riors, and therefore feel no control.
Many are persuaded by their supe-
riors, and not controlled. Some are
indifferent which way they exercise
the power, though they would not
like to be utterly deprived of it.
Some guzzle away their vote, some
sell it, some brave their superiors, if
they are threatened and controlled.
The election, in different ways, is af-
fected by the superior influence of the
upper orders ; and the great mass
(occasionally and justly complaining)
are, beyond all doubt, better pleased
than if they had no votes at all. The
lower orders always have it in their
power to rebel against their superiors ;
and occasionally they will do so, and
have done so, and occasionally and
justly carried elections* against gold,

* The 400 or 600 voting against the 200
are right about as often as juries are right
in differing firom judges; and that is very
seldom.

M8

BALLOT.

and birdi, and edacation. l^at it is
madness to make laws of society
which attempt to shake off the great
laws of nature. As long as men lore
bread, and mntton, and broad cloth,
wealth, in a long series of years, must
have enormous effects upon human
affairs, and the strong box will beat
the ballot box. Mr. Grote has both,
but he miscalculates their •respective
powers. Mr. Grote knows the relative
values of gold and silver; but by what
moral rate of exchange is l^e able to
tell us the relative values of liberty
and truth?

It is hardly necessary to say any-
thing about universal suffrage, as there
is no act of folly or madness which it
may not in the beginning produce.
There would be the greatest risk that
the monarchy, as at present constituted,
the funded debt, the established church,
titles, and hereditary peerage, would
give way before it Many really honest
men may wish for these changes; I
know, or at least believe, that wheat
and barley would grow if there were
no Archbishop of Canterbury, and
domestic fowls would breed if our Vis-
count Melbourne was again called Mr.
Lamb ; but they have stronger nerves
than I have who would venture to
bring these changes about. So few
nations have been free, it is so difficult
to guard freedom from kings, and mobs,
and patriotic gentlemen ; and we are
in such a very tolerable state of happi-
ness in England, that I think such
changes would be very rash ; and I
have an utter mistrust in the sagacity
and penetration of political . reasoners

who pretend to foresee all the conse-
quences to which they would give birth.
When I speak of the tolerable state of
happiness in which we live in England,
I do not speak merely of nobles, squires,
and canons of St Paul's, but of drivers
of coaches, clerks in offices, carpenters,
blacksmiths, butchers, and bakers, and
most men who do not marry upon no-
thing, and become burdened with large
families before they have arrived at
years of maturity. The earth is not
sufficiently fertile for this :

Difficilem victum ftmdit durissima tellos.

After all, the great art in politics
and war is to choose a good position
for making a stand. The Duke of
Wellington examined and fortified the
lines of Torres Vedras a year before
he had any occasion to make use of
them, and he had previously mai'ked
out Waterloo as the probable scene of
some future exploit ' The people seem
to be hurrying on through all the
well known steps to anarchy ; they
must be stopped at some pass or an-
other : the first is the best and the most
easily defended. The people have a
right to ballot or to anything else which
will make them happy; and they have
a right to nothing which will make them
unhappy. They are the best judges
of their immediate gratifications, and
the worst judges of what would best
conduce to their interests for a series
of years. Most earnestly and conscien-
tiously wishing their good, I say,

No Ballot.

Stdmky Smith.

LEHER

TO

LEONAED HORNEE, ESQ.

My dear Sir,
You desire me to commit to paper my
recollections of your brother, Francis
Horner. I think that the many years
which have elapsed since his death
have not at all impaired my memory
of his virtues, at the same time that
ihey have afforded me more ample
means of comparing him with other
important human beings with whom I
have become acquainted since that
period.

I first made the acquaintance of
Francis Horner at Edinburgh, where
he was among the most conspicuous
young men in that energetic and in-
fragrant city. My desire to know
him proceeded first of all from being
cautioned against him by some excel-
lent and feeble people to whom I had
brought letters of introduction, and
who represented him to me as a person
of violent political opinions; I inter-
preted this to mean a person who
thought for himself — who had firmness
enough to take his own line in life, and
who loved truth better than he loved
Dundas, at that time the tyrant of
Scotland. I found my interpretation
to be just, and from thence till the
period of his death we lived in con-
stant society and friendship with each
other.

There was something very remark-
able in his countenance — the com-
mandments were written on his face,
and I have often told him there was
not a crime he might not commit with
impunity, as no judge or jury who
saw him would give the smallest

degree of credit to any evidence
against him: there was in his look a
calm settled love of all that was
honourable and good — an air of
wisdom and of sweetness j you saw at
once that he was a great man, whom
nature had intended for a leader of
human beings; you ranged yourself
willingly under his banners, and
cheerfully submitted to his sway.

He had an intense love of knowledge;
he wasted very little of the portion of
life conceded to him, and was always
improving himself, not in the most
foolish of all schemes of education, in
making Itng and short verses and
scanning Greek choruses, but in the
masculine pursuits of the philosophy
of legislation, of political economy, of
the constitutional history of the country,
and of the history and changes of
Ancient and Modern Europe. He had
read so much, and so well, that he
was a contemporary of all men, and a
citizen of all states.

I never saw any person who took
such a lively interest in the daily
happiness of his friends. If you were
unwell, if there was a sick child in the
nursery, if any death happened in your
family, he never forgot you for an
instant I You always found there was
a man with a good heart who was never
far from you.

He loved truth so much, that he never
could bear any jesting npon important
subjects. I remember one evening the
late Lord Dudley and myself pretended
to justify the conduct of the government
in stealing the Danish fleet; we carried

LETTER TO LEONARD HORNER, ESQ.

320

on the argument with some wickedness
against our graver friend; he could
not stand it, bat bolted indignantly ont
of the room ; we flung up the sash* and,
with loud peals of laughter, professed
ourselves decided Scandinavians; we
offered him not only the ships, but all
the shot, powder, cordage, and even the
biscuit, if he would come back: but
nothing could turn him ; he went home ;
and it took us a fortnight of serious
behaviour before we were forgiven.

Francis Horner was a very modest
person, which men of great under-
standing seldom are. It was his habit
to confirm his opinion by the opinions
of others ; and often to form them
from the same source.

His success in the House of Com-
mons was decided and immediate, and
went on increasing to the last day of
his life. Though put into Parliament
by some of the Great Borough Lords,
every one saw that he represented his
own real opinions : without hereditary
wealth, and known as a writer in the
Edinburgh Review, his independence
was never (Questioned: his integrity,
sincerity, and moderation, were ac-
knowledged by all sides, and respected
even by those impudent assassins who
live only to discourage honesty and
traduce virtue. The House of Com-
mons, as a near relation of mine* once
observed, has more good taste than
any man in it Horner, from his
manners, his ability, and his integrity,
became a general favourite with the
House; they suspended for him their
habitual dislike of lawyers, of political
adventurers, and of young men of con-
seederahle taalents from the North.

Your brother was wholly without
pretensions or affectation. I have
lived a long time in Scotland, and
have seen very few affected Scotch-
men; of those^few he certainly was
not one. In the ordinary course of
life, he never bestowed a thought upon
the effect he was producing; he trusted
to his own good nature and good in-
tentions, and left the rest to chance.

Having known him well before he
had acquired a great London reputa-

, • Mr. Sydney Smith's brother, the late
Mr. Robert Smith.

tion, I never observed that his fame
produced the slightest alteration in his
deportment: he was as affable to me,
and to all his old friends, as when we
were debating metaphysics in a garret
in Edinburgh. I don't think it was
in the power of ermine, or mace, or
seals, or lawn, or lace, or of any of
those emblems and ornaments with
which power loves to decorate itself,
to have destroyed the simplicity of his
character. I believe it would have
defied all the corrupting appellations
of human vanity: Serene, Honourable,
Right Honourable, Sacred, Reverend,
Right Reverend, Lord High, Earl,
Marquis, Lord Mayor, Your Grace,
Your Honour, and every other vocable
which folly has invented and idolatry
cherished, would all have been lavished
on him in vain.

The character of his understanding
was the exercise of vigorous reasoning,
in pursuit of important and difficult
truth. He had no wit; nor did he
condescend to that inferior variety of
this electric talent which prevails
occasionally in the North, and which,
under the name of Wuty is so infinitely
distressing to persons of good taste:
he had no very ardent and poetical
imagination, but he had that innate
force, which,

Quemvis perferre laborem

Suaslt, et induxit noctes vigilare sfflrenas
Quaereutem dictis quibus, et quo carmine

demum
Clara sun possit prsepandere luminamentL

Your late excellent father, thoagh
a very well informed person, was not
what would be called a literary man,
and you will readily concede to me
that none of his family would pretend
to rival your brother in point of talents.
I never saw more constant and high
principled attention to parents than in
his instance; more habitual and re-
spectful deference to their opinions
and wishes. I never saw brothers and
sisters, over whom he might have
assumed a family sovereignty, treated
with more cheerful, and endearing
equality. I mention these things,
because men who do good things are
so much more valuable than those who

"LOCKING IN" ON RAILWAYS.

321

say wise ones; because the order of
human excellence is so often inverted,
and great talents considered as an
excuse for the absence of obscure
virtues.

Francis Homer was always very
guarded in his political opinions;
guarded I mean against the excesses
into which so many young men of
talents were betrayed by their admira-
tion of the French Revolution. He
was an English Whig, and no more
than an English Whig. He mourned
sincerely over the crimes, and madness
of France, and never for a single
moment surrendered his understanding
to the novelty and nonsense which in-
fested the world at that strange era of
human affairs.

I remember the death of many
eminent Englishmen, but I can safely
say, I never remember an impression
so general as that excited by the death
of Francis Homer. The public looked
upon him as a powerful and a safe man,
who was labouring not for himself or
Lis party, but for them. They were
convinced of his talents, they confided
in his moderation, and they were sure

of his motives; he had improved so
quickly, and so much, that his early
death was looked on as the destmction
of a great statesman, who had done
but a small part of the good which
might be expected from him, who would
infallibly have risen to the highest
offices, and as infallibly have filled
them to the public good. Then as he
had never lost a friend, and made so
few enemies, there was no friction, no
drawback ; public feeling had its free
course; the image of a good and great
man was broadly before the world,
unsullied by any breath of hatred; there
was nothing but pure sorrow! Youth
destroyed before its time, great talents
and wisdom hurried to the grave, a
kind and good man, who might have
lived for the glorj of England, torn
from us in the flower of his life! — but
all this is gone and past, and, as Galileo
said of his lost sight, " It has pleased
God it should be so, and it must please
me also."

Ever truly yours,

Sydney Smith.
August 26, 1842.

LETTEES ON EAILWAYS.

"LOCKING IN" ON RAILWAYS.
To the Editor cfthe Morning Chronicle,

Sib,
It falls to my lot to travel frequently
on the Great Western Kailway, and
I request permission, through the
medium of your able and honest
journal, to make a complaint against
the directors of that company.

It is the custom on that railway to
lock the passengers in on both sides —
a custom which, in spite of the dreadful
example at Paris, I have every reason
to believe they mean to continue with-
out any relaxation.

In the course of a long life I have
VoL.IL

no recollection of any accident so
shocking as that on the Paris railway
— a massacre so sudden, so full of tor-
ment — death at the moment of plea-
sure — death aggravated by all the
amazement, fear, and pain which can
be condensed into the last moments of
existence.

Who can say that the same scene
may not be acted over again on the
Great Western Railroad ? That in
the midst of their tunnel of three miles'
length the same scene of slaughter and
combustion may not scatter dismay
and alarm over the whole country ?

It seems to me perfectly monstrous
that a board of ten or twelve monopo-

322

"LOCKING IN" ON RAILWAYS.

lists can read such a description, and
say to the public, ** You must run your
chance of being burnt or mutilated.
We have arranged our plan upon the
locking-in system, and we shall not in-
cur the risk and expense of changing it."

The plea is, that rash or drunken
people will attempt to get out of the
carriages which are not locked, and
that this measure really originates
from attention to the safety of the
public ; so that the lives of two hundred
persons who are not drunk and are
not rash, are to ^ endangered for the
half-yearly preservation of some idiot,
upon whose body the coroner is to
sit, and over whom the sudden-death
man is to deliver his sermon against
the directors.

The very fact of locking the doors
will be a frequent source of accidents.
Mankind, whatever the directors may
think of that process, are impatient of
combustion. The Paris accident will
never be forgotten. The passengers
will attempt to escape through the
windows, and ten times more of mis-
chief will be done than if they had been
left to escape by the doors in the usual
manner.

It is not only the locking of the doors
which is to be deprecated ; but the
effects which it has upon the imagina-
tion. Women, old people, and the
sick, are all forced to travel by the
railroad ; and for 200 miles they live
under the recollection not only of im-
pending danger, but under the know-
ledge that escape is impossible — a
journey comes to be contemplated with
horror. Men cannot persuade the
females of their family to travel by the
railroad; it is inseparably connected
with abominable tyranny and perilous
imprisonment.

Why does the necessity of locking
both doors exist only on the Great
Western ? Why is one of the doors
left open on all other railways ?

The public have a right to every
advantage under permitted monopoly
which they would enjoy under free
competition ; and they are unjust to
themselves if they do not insist upon
this right. If there were two parallel
railways, the one locking you in, and

the other not, is there the smallest
doobt which would carry away all the
business ? Can there be any hesita-
tion in which timid women, drunken
men, sages, philosophers, bishops, and
all combustible beings, would place
themselves.

I very much doubt the legality of
lockmg doors, and refusing to open
them. I arrive at a station where
others are admitted ; but I am not
suffered to get out, though perhaps at
the point of death. In all other posi-
tions of life there is egress whefe there
is ingress. Man is universally the
master of his own body, except he
chooses to go from Paddington to
Bridgewater: there only the Habeas
Corpus is refused.

Ifothing, in fact, can be more ut-
terly silly or mistaken than this over-
officious care of the public ; as if every
man who was not a railway director
was a child or a fool. But why stop
here ? Why are not strait- waistcoats
used ? Why is not the accidental tra-
veller strapped down ? Why do contu-
sion and fracture still remain physically
possible ?

Is not this extreme care of the public
new ? When first mail coaches began
to travel twelve miles an hour, the out-
sides (if I remember rightly) were
never tied to the roof. In packets,
landsmen are not locked into the cabin
to prevent them from tumbling orer-
board. This affectionate nonsense
prevails only on the Great Western.
It is there only that men, women, and
children (seeking thebnly mode of tran-
sit which remains) are by these tender-
hearted monopolists immediately com-
mitted to their locomotive prisons.
Nothing can, in fact, be so absurd as
all this officious zeal. It is the duty
of the directors to take all reasonable
precautions to warn the public of dan-
ger — to make it clear that there is no
negligence on the part of the railroad
directors ; and then, this done, if a
fool-hardy person choose to expose
himself to danger, so be it. Fools
there will be on roads of iron and on
roads of gravel, and they must suffer
for their folly ; but why are Socrates,
Solon, and Solomon to be locked up ?

"LOCKING IN" ON RAILWAYS.

823

Bat is all this, which appears so
philanthropical,* mere philanthropy?
Does not the locking of the doors save
servants and policemen? Does not
economy mingle with these benevolent
feelings ? Is it to save a few fellow-
creatares, or a few pounds, that the
children of the West are to be hermeti-
cally sealed in the locomotives ? I do
not say it is so ; but I say it deserves
a very serious examikiation whether it
be so or not. Great and heavy is the
sin of the directors of this huge mono-
poly, if they repeat upon their own iron
the tragedy of Paris, in order to increase
their dividends a few shillings per cent.

The country has (perhaps inevitably)
given way to this great monopoly.
Nothing can make it tolerable for a
moment but the most severe and watch-
ful jealousy of the manner in which its
powers are exercised. We shall have
tyrannical rules, vexatious rules, ill
temper, pure folly, and meddling and
impertinent paternity. It is the abso-
lute duty of Lord Bipon and Mr.
Gladstone (if the directors prove them-
selves to be so inadequate to the new
situation in which they are placed) to
restrain and direct them by law ; and
if these two gentlemen are afraid of
the responsibility of such laws, they
are deficient in the moral courage
which their office requires, and the
most important interests of the public
are neglected.

I am, Sir, your obedient servant,

Stdnet Smith.
May 21, 1842.

« LOCKING IN" ONBAILWAYS.

To the BdUor of the Morning Chronicle.

Sir,
Since the letter upon railroads, which
you were good enough to insert in your
paper, I have had some conversation
with two gentlemen officially connected
ivith the Great Western. Though no-
thing could be more courteous than
their manner, nor more intelligible than
their arguments; I remain unshaken as
to the necessity of keeping the doors
open.

There is, in the first place, the effect
of imagination, the idea that all escape
is impossible, that (let what will happen)
you must sit quiet in first class No. 2,
whether they are pounding you into a
jam, or burning you into a cinder, or
crumbling you into a human powder.
These excellent directors, versant in
wood and metal, seem to require that
the imagination should be sent by some
other conveyance, and that only loads
of unimpassioned, unintellectual flesh
and blood should be darted along on
the Western rail ; whereas, the female
Iiomo is a screaming, parturient, inter-
jectional, hysterical animal, whose de-
licacy and timidity, monopolists (even
much as it may surprise them) must be
taught to consult. The female, in all
probability, never would jump out; but
she thinks she may jump out when she
pleases; and this is intensely comfort-
able.

There are two sorts of dangers which
hang over railroads. The one re-
tail dangers, where individuals only
are concerned; the other, wholesale
dangers, where the whole train, or a
considerable part of it, is put in jeo-
pardy. For the first danger there is a
remedy in the prudence of individuals;
for the second, there is none. No man
need be drunk, nor need he jump out
when the carriage is in motion ; but in
the present state of science it is impos-
sible to guard effectually against the
fracture of the axle-tree, or the explo-
sion of the engine ; and if the safety
of the one party cannot be consulted
but by the danger of the other, if the
foolish cannot be restrained but by the
unjust incarceration of the wise, the
prior consideration is due to those
who have not the remedy for the evil
in their own hands.

But the truth is — and so (after a
hundred monopolising experiments on
public patience) the railroad directors
will find it — there can be no other de-
pendence for the safety of the public
than the care which every human
being is inclined to take of his own life
and limbs. Everything beyond this is
the mere lazy tyranny of monopoly,
which makes no distinction between
human beings and brown paper parcels.

Y 2

324

LOCKDBJ m*' ON RAILWAYS.

If riding were a monopoly, as travel-
ling in carriages is now become, there
are many gendemen whom I see riding
in the Park npon such false principles,
that I am sure the cantering and gal-
loping directors wonld strap them, in
the ardoor of their affection, to the
saddle, padlock them to the stirmps, or
compel them to ride behind a police-
man of the stable ; and nothing but a
motion from O'Brien, or an order from
Gladstone, could release them.

Let the company stick up all sorts
of cautions and notices within their
carriages and without ; but, after that,
no doors locked. If one door is al-
lowed to be locked, the other will soon
be so too; there is no other security to
the public than absolute prohibition of
the practice. The directors and agents
of the Great Western are individually
excellent men; but the moment men
meet in public boards, they cease to be
collectively excellent. 'Ihe fimd of
morality becomes less, as the indivi-
dual contributors increase in number.
I do not accuse such respectable men
of any wilful violation of truth, but the
memoirs which they are about to pre-
sent will be, without the scrupulous
cross-examination of a committee of
the House of Commons, mere waste
paper.

But the most absurd of all legislative
enactments is this hemiplegian law —
an act of Parliament to protect one side
of the body and not the other. If the
wheel comes off on the right, the open
door is uppermost, and every one is
saved. If, from any sudden avalanche
on the road, the carriage is prostrated
to the left, the locked door is uppermost,
all escape is impossible, and the rail-
road martyrdom begins.

Leave me to escape in the best way
I can, as the fire-offices very kindly
permit me to do. I know very well
the danger of getting out on the off-
side ; but escape is the affair of a mo-
ment ; suppose a train to have passed
at that moment, I know I am safe from
any other trains for twenty minutes or
half an hour ; and if I do get out on
the off-side, I do not remain in the
-valley of death between the two trains,
but am over to the opposite bank in an

instant — only half-roasted, or merely
browned, certainly not tlone enough fur
the Great Western directors.

On Saturday morning last, the wheel
of the public carriage, in which a friend
of mine was travelling, began to smoke,
but was pacified by sever&l buckets of
water, and proceeded. After five more
miles, the whole carriage was full of
smoke, the train was with difficulty
stopped, and tho^agrant vehicle re-
moved. The axle was nearly in two,
and in another mile would have been
severed.

Railroad travelling is a delightful
improvement of human life. Man is
become a bird ; he can fly longer and
quicker than a Solan goose. The
mamma rushes sixty miles in two
hours to the aching finger of her con-
jugating and declining grammar boy.
The early Scotchman scratches himself
in the morning mists of the North, and
has his porridge in Piccadilly before
the setting sun. The Puseyite priest,
after a rush of 100 miles, appears with
his little volume of nonsense at the
breakfast of his bookseller. Every-
thing is near, everything is immediate
— time, distance, and delay are abo-
lished. But, though charming and
fascinating as all this is, we must not
shut oiu: eyes to the price we shall pay
for iL There will be every three or
four years some dreadful massacre —
whole trains will be hurled down »
precipice, and 200 or 800 persons will
be killed on the spot. There will be
every now and then a great combustion
of human bodies, as there has been at
Paris ; then all the newspapers up in
arms — a thousand regulations, forgot-
ten as soon as the directors dare-
loud screams of the velocity whistle —
monopoly locks and bolts, as before.

The locking plea of directors is pbil-
anthrophy ; and I admit that to guard
men from the commission of mortd evil
is as philanthropical as to prevent phy-
sical suffering. There is, I allow, a
strong propensity in mankind to travel*
on railroads without paying ; and to
lock mankind in till they have com-
pleted their share of the contract is
benevolent, because it guards the
species from degrading and immoral

BURNING ALIVE ON RAILROADS.

325

conduct, but to bum or crush a \vhole
train merely to prevent a few immoral
Insides from not paying, is I hope a
little more than Ripon or Gladstone
will bear.

We have been, up to this point, very
careless of our railway regulations.
The first person of rank who is killed
will put everything in order, and pro-
duce a code of the most careful rules.
I hope it will not be one of the bench
of bishops ; but should it be so destined,
let the burnt bishop — the unwilling
Latimer — remember that, however
painfal gradual concoction by fire may
be, his death will produce unspeakable
benefit to the public. Even Sodor and
Man will be better than nothing. From
that moment the bad efiiects of the
monopoly are destroyed ; no more fatal
deference to the directors ; no despotic
incarceration, no barbarous inattention
to the anatomy and physiology of the
human body ; no commitment to loco-
motive prisons with warrant We
shall then find it possible

>M

** Voyager libre sans mourir.*

Stdnet Smith.

ITune 7, 1848.

BURNING ALIVE ON RAIL-
ROADS.

To the UdUor qfihe Morning Chronicle,

Sib,
Hating gradually got into this little
controversy respecting the burning hu-
man beings alive on the railroads, I
must beg leave, preparatory to the in-
troduction of the bill, to say a few more
words on the subject. If I could have
my will in these matters, I would
introduce into the bill a clause abso-
lutely prohibitory of all locking doors
on railroads ; but as that fascinating
board, the Board of Trade, does not
love this, and as the public may, after
some repetitions of roasted humanity,
be better prepared for such peremptory
legislation, the better method perhaps
wUl be to give to the Board of Trade the
power of opening doors (one or both),]

with the customary penalties against
the companies for disobedience of
orders, and then the board may use
this power as the occasion may require.

To pass a one-legged law, giving
power over one door and not the other,
would, perbaps, be too absurd for hu-
man endurance. If railroad companies
were aware of their real and extended
interests, they would not harass the
public by vexatious regulations, nor,
under the plea of humanity (though
really for purposes of economy), expose
them to serious periL The country are
very angry with themselves for having
granted the monopoly, and very angry
for the instances of carelessness and
oppression which have appeared in the
working of the system : the heaviest
fines are inflicted by coroner's juries,
the heaviest damages are given by
common juries. Railroads have daily
proofs of their unpopularity. If Par-
liament get out of temper with these
metallic ways, they will visit them with
Laws of Iron, and burst upon them
with the high pressure of despotism.

The wayfaringmenof the North will
league with the wayfaring men of the
West; South and East will join hand
in hand against them. All the points
of the compass will combine against
these vendors of velocity, and traders
in transition. I hope a clause will be
introduced, compelling the Board of
Trade to report twice a year to Parlia-
ment upon the accidents of railroads,
their causes, and their prevention.
The public know little or nothing of
what happens on the rail. All the
men with letters upon the collars of
their coats are sworn to secrecy —
nothing can be extracted from them;
when anything happens they neither
appear to see nor hear you.

In case of conflagration, you would
be to them as so many joints on the
spit. It has occurred to 500 persons,
that soft impediments behind and be-
fore (such as wool) would prevent the
dangers of meeting or overtaking.
It is not yet understood why a carri«
age on fire at the end of the train can-
not be seen by the driver of the engine.
All this may be great nonsense; but
the public ought to know that these

t3

326 LETTERS ON AMERICAN DEBTS.

points have been properly considered ; | instead of wrapping tfaemselyes np ia
they should know that there are a set | transcendental phUosophy, and the
of officers paid to watch over their in- principles of letting-aloneness, why do

terests, and to guard against the per-
petual encroachments, the carelessness,
the insolence, and the avarice of mo-
nopoly.

Why do not our dear Ripon and
our youthful CrladtCone see this, and
come cheerfully to the rescue ? and,

they not at once do what ought to be
done — what must be done — and
what, after many needless butcheries,
they will at last be compelled to do? —
Yours,

Stdnet Smite.

June 18, 1842.

LETTERS, ETC.

ON

AMEEICAN DEBTS.

THE HUMBLE PETITION of the
Rev. Sydney Smith to the House
OF CoNaREss at Washington.

I petition your honourable House to
institute some measures for the re-
storation of American credit, and for
the repayment of debts incurred and
repudiated by several of the States.
Your Petitioner lent to the State of
Pennsylvania a sum of money, for the
purpose of some public improvement.
The amount, though small, is to him
important, and is a saving from a life
income, made with difficulty and pri-
vation. If their refusal to pay (from
which a very large number of English
families are suffering) had been the
result of war, produced by the unjust
aggression of powerful enemies ; if it
had arisen from civil discord; if it
had proceeded from an improvident
application of means in the first years
of self-government : if it were the act
of a poor State struggling against the
barrenness of nature — every friend of
America would have been contented
to wait for better times ; but the fraud
is committed in the profound peace of
Pennsylvania, by the richest State in

the Union, after the wise investment
of the borrowed money in roads and
canals, of which the repudiators are
every day reaping the advantage. It
is an act of bad faith which (all its cir-
cumstances considered) has no parallel,
and no excuse.

Nor is it only the loss of property
which your Petitioner laments; he
laments still more that immense power
which the bad faith of America has
given to aristocratical opinions, and
to the enemies of free institutions, in
the old world. It is in vain any longer
to appeal to history, and to point out
the wrongs which the many have re-
ceived from the few. The Americans,
who boast to have improved the insti-
tutions of the old world, have at least
equalled its crimes. A great nation,
after trampling under foot all earthly
tyranny, has been guilty of a fraad as
enormous as ever disgraced the worst
king of the most degraded nation of
Europe.

It is most painful to your Petitioner
to see that American citizens excite,
wherever they may go, the recollection
that they belong to a dishonest peonle,
who pride theinselves on having tricked

LETTERS ON AMERICAN DEBTS.

327

and pillaged Earope ; and this mark is
fixed by their faithless legislators on
some of the best and most honourable
men in the world, whom every English-
man has been eager to see and proud
to receive.

It is a subject of serious concern to
your Petitioner that you are losing all
that power which the friends of free-
dom rejoiced that you possessed, look-
ing upon you as the ark of human
happiness, and the most splendid
picture of justice and of wisdom that
the world had yet seen. Little did the
friends of America expect it, and sad
is the spectacle to see you rejected by
every State in Europe, as a nation with
whom no contract can be made, be-
cause none will be kept ; unstable in
the very foundations of social life, de-
ficient in the elements of good faith,
men who prefer any load of infamy
however great, to any pressure of tax-
ation however light.

Nor is it only this gigantic bank-
ruptcy for so many degrees of longitude
and latitude which your Petitioner de-
plores, but he is alarmed also by that
total want of shame with which these
things have been done; the callous
immorality with which Europe has
been plundered, that deadness of the
moral sense which seems to preclude
all return to honesty, to perpetuate
this new infamy, and to threaten its
extension over every State of the
Union.

To any man of real philanthropy,
who receives pleasure from the im-
provements of the world, the repudia-
tion of the public debts of America,
and the shameless manner in which it
has been talked of and done, is the
most melancholy event which has hap-
pened daring the existence of the
present generation. Your Petitioner
sincerely prays that the great and
good men still existing among you
may, by teaching to the United States
the deep disgrace they have incurred
in the whole world, restore them to
moral health, to that high position
they have lost, and which, for the
happiness of mankind, it is so impor-
tant they should ever maintain ; for
the United States are now working

out the greatest of all political prob-
lems, and upon that confederacy the
eyes of thinking men are intensely
fixed, to see how far the mass of man-
kind can be trusted with the manage-
ment of their own affairs, and the
establishment of their own happiness.

Hay 18, 1843.

LETTER L

To the Editor qfthe Morning Chronicle,

SlE,
Yon did me the favour, some time
since, to insert in your valuable journal
a petition of mine to the American
Congress, for the repayment of a loan
made by me, in common with many
other unwise people, to the State of
Pennsylvania. For that petition I
have been abused in the grossest man-
ner by many of the American papers.
After some weeks' reflection, I see no
reason to alter my opinions, or to re-
tract my expressions. What I then
said was not wild declamation, but
measured truth. I repeat again, that
no conduct was ever more profligate
than that of the State of Pennsylvania.
History cannot pattern it : and let no
deluded being imagine that they will
ever repay a single farthing — their
people have tasted of the dangerous
luxury of dishonesty, and they will
never be brought back to the homely
rule of right. The money transactions
of the Americans are become a by-
word among the nations of Europe.
In every grammar-school of the old
world ad Gracas Calendas is trans-
lated — the American dividends.

I am no enemy to America. I loved
and admired honest America when she
respected the laws of pounds, shillings,
and pence ; and I thought the United
States the most magnificent picture of
human happiness : I meddle now in
these matters because I hate fraud —
because I pity the misery it has occa-
sioned — because I mourn over the
hatred it has excited against free insti-
tutions.

Among the discussions to which the
y4

328

LETTERS ON AMERICAN DEBTS.

moral lubricities of this insolvent people
have given birth, they have arrogated
to themselves the right of sitting in
judgment upon the property of their
creditors — of deciding who among
them is rich, and who poor, and who
are proper objects of compassionate
payment; but in the name of Mercury,
the great god of thieves, did any man
ever hear of debtors alleging the wealth
of the lender as a reason for eluding
the payment of the loan? Is the
Stock Exchange a place for the tables
of the money-lenders ; or is it a school
of moralists, who may amerce the rich,
exalt the poor, and correct the in-
equalities of fortune. Is Biddle an
instrument in the hand of Providence
to exalt the humble, and send the rich
empty away ? Does American Provi-
dence work with such instruments as
Biddkf

. But the only good part of this bad
morality is not acted upon. The rich
are robbed, but the poor are not paid:
they growl against the dividends of
Dives, and don't lick the sores of
Lazarus. They seize with loud ac-
clamations on the money bags of
Jones Loyd, Rothschild, and Baring,
but they do not give back the pittance
of the widow, and the bread of the
child. Those knaves of the setting
sun may call me rich, for I have a
twentieth part of the income of the
Archbishop of Canterbury; but the
curate of the next parish is a wretched
soul, bruised by adversity ; and the
three hundred pounds for his chil*
dren, which it has taken his life to
save, is eaten and drunken by the
mean men of Pennsylvania — hymen
who are always talking of the virtue
and honour of the United States — by
men who soar above others in what
they say, and sink below all nations
in what they do — who, after float-
ing on the heaven of declamation,
fall down to feed on the ofifal and
garbage of the earth.

Persons who are not in the secret
are inclined to consider the abomin-
able conduct of the repudiating States
to proceed from exhaustion — ** They
don't pay because they cannot pay;"
whereas, from estimates which have

just now reached this country, this is
the picture of the finances of the in-
solvent States. Their debts may be
about- 200 millions of dollars; at an
interest of 6 per cent., this m^es an
annual charge of 12 millions of dol-
lars, which is little more than 1 per
cent, of their income in 1840, and
may be presumed to be less than 1
per cent, of their present income; bat
if they were all to provide funds for
the punctual payment of interest, the
debt could readily be converted into a
4 or 5 per cent, stock, and the excess,
converted into a sinking fund, would
discharge the debt in less than thirty
years. The debt of Pennsylvania,
estimated at 40 millions of dollars,
bears, at 5 per cent., an annual in-
terest of 2 millions. The income of
this State was, in 1840, 131 millions
of dollars, and is probably at this
time not less than 150 millions: a nett
revenue of only \\ per cent, would
produce the ,two millions required.
So that the price of national character
in Pennsylvania is 1^ per cent on the
nett income; and if this market price
of morals were established here, a
gentleman of a thousand a year would
deliberately and publicly submit to
infamy for \bL per annum; and a
poor man, who by laborious industry
had saved one hundred a year, would
incur general disgrace and oppro-
brium for thirty shillings by the year.
There really should be lunatic asylums
for' nations as well as for individuals.

But they begin to feel all this: their
tone is changed ; they talk with bated
breath and whispering apology, and
allay with some cold drops of modesty
their skipping spirit. They strutted
into this miserable history, and begin
to think of sneaking out.

And then the snbdolous press of
America contends that the English
under similar circumstances would act
with their own debt in the same
manner; but there are many English
constituencies where are thousands
not worth a shilling, and no such idea
has been broached among them, nor
has any petition to such effect been
presented to the legislature. But
what if they did act in such a manner.

LETTERS ON AMERICAN DEBTS.

329

wou'd it be a conduct less wicked than
that of the Americans? Is there not
one immutable law of justice — is it
not written in the book? Does it not
beat in the heart? — are the great
guide-marks of life to be concealed
by such nonsense as this? I deny the
fact on which the reasoning is founded;
and if the facts were true, the reason-
ing would be false.

I never meet a Fennsylvanian at a
London dinner without feeling a dis-
position to seize and divide him; — to
allot his beaver to one sufferer and his
coat to another — to appropriate his
pocket-handkerchief to the orphan,
and to comfort the widow with his
silver watch, Broadway rings, and
the London Guide, which he always
carries in his pockets. How such a
man can set himself down at an Eng-
lish table without feeling that he owes
two or three pounds to every man in
company I am at a loss to conceive :
he has no more right to eat with
honest men than a leper has to eat
with clean men. If he have a particle
of honour in his composition he should
shut himself up, and say, ** I cannot
mingle with you, I belong to a de-
graded people — I must hide myself —
I am a plunderer from Pennsylvania.**

Figure to yourself a Pennsylva-
nian receiving foreigners in his own
country, walking over the public
works with them, and showing them
I^arcenous Lake, Swindling Swamp,
Crafty Canal, and Rogues' Railway,
and other dishonest works. "This
swamp we gained (says the patriotic
borrower) by the repudiated loan of
1828. Our canal robbery was in
1830; we pocketed your good people's
money for the railroad only last year."
All this* may seem very smart to the
Americans ; but if I had the misfor-
tune to be bom among such a people,
the land of my fathers should not
retain me a single moment after the
act of repudiation. I would appeal
from my fathers to my forefathers. I
would fly to Newgate for greater
purity of thought, and seek in the
prisons of England for better rules of
life.

This new and yaln people can

never forgive us for having preceded
them 300 years in civilisation. They
are prepared to enter iflto the most
bloody wars in England, not on ac-
count of Oregon, or boundaries, or
right of search, but because our clothes
and carriages are better made, and
because Bond Street beats Broadway.
Wise Webster does all he can to con-
vince the people that these are not
lawful causes of war; but wars, and
long wars, they will one day or an-
other produce; and this, perhaps, is
the only advantage of repudiation.
The Americans cannot gratify their
avarice and ambition at once; they
cannot cheat and conquer at the same
time. The warlike power of every
country depends on their Three per
Cents. If Caesar were to reappear
upon earth, Wettenhairs list would
be more important than his Commen-
taries ; Rothschild would open and
shut the temple of Janus; Thomas
Baring, or Bates, would probably
command the Tenth Legion, and the
soldiers would march to battle with
loud cries of Scrip and Omnium re-
duced. Consols, and Caesar ! Now,
the Americans have cut themselves oft
from all resources of credit. Having
been as dishonest as they can be, they
are prevented from being as foolish as
they wish to be. In the whole habit-
able globe they cannot borrow a guinea,
and they cannot draw the sword be-
cause they have not money to buy it.

If I were an American of any of the
honest States, I would never rest till I
had compelled Pennsylvania to be as
honest as myself. The bad faith of
that State brings disgrace on all; just
as common snakes are killed because
vipers are dangerous. I have a gene-
ral feeling, that by that breed of men
I have been robbed and ruined, and I
shudder and keep aloof. The pecu-
niary credit of every State is affected
by Pennsylvania. Ohio pays ; but
with such a bold bankruptcy before
their eyes how long will Ohio pay?
The truth is, that the eyes of all
capitalists are averted from the United
States. The finest commercial un-
derstandings will have nothing to do
with them. Men rigidly just, who

330

LETTERS ON AMERICAN DEBTS.

penetrate boldly into the dealings of
nations, and work with vigour and
vurtue for honourable wealth — great
and high-minded merchants — will
loathe, and are now loathing, the
name of America : it is becoming,
since its fall, the common-sewer of
Europe, and the native home of the
needy villain.

And now, drab-coloured men of
Pennsylvania, there is yet a moment
left: the eyes of all Europe are an-
chored upon you —

** Surrexit mundus justis ftirfis :"

start up from that trance of dishonesty
into which you are plunged; don't
think of the flesh which walls about
your life, but of that sin which has
hurled you from the heaven of charac-
ter, which hangs over you like a de-
vouring pestilence, and makes good
men sad, and ruffians dance and sing.
It is not for Gin Sling and Sherry
Cobbler alone that man is to live, but
for those great principles against which
no argument can be listened to —
principles which give to every power
a double power above their functions
and their offices, which are the books,
the arts, the academies that teach, lift
up, and nourish the world — principles
(I am quite serious in what I say)
above cash, superior to cotton, higher
than currency, — principles, without
which it is better to die than to live,
which every servant of God, over every
sea and in all lands, should cherish —
usque ad abdita spiramenta aninue.

Yours, &c.

Nov. 3, 1843.

Sydney Smith.

LETTER IL
To the Editor ofths Morning Chronicle,

Sir,
Haviko been unwell for some days
past, I have had no opportunity of
paying my respects to General Duff
Green, who (whatever be his other
merits), has certainly not shown him-
self a Washington in defence of his
country. The General demands, with
a beautiful simplicity, ** Whence this

morbid hatred of America f ** Bat this
question, all-affecting as it is, is stolen
from Filpay*s fables : — "A fox," says
Pilpay, " caught by the leg in a trap
near the farm -yard, uttered the most
piercing cries of distress : forthwith all
the birds of the yard gathered round
him, and seemed to delight in his mis-
fortune;, hens chuckled, geese hissed,
ducks quacked, and chanticleer with
shrill cockadoodles rent the air.
'Whence,* said the fox, limping for-
ward with infinite gravity, * whence
this morbid hatred of the fox ? What
have I done? Whom have I injured ?
I am overwhelmed with astonishment
at these symptoms of aversion.' * Oh !
you old villain,* the poultry exclaimed,
* Where are our ducklings? Where
are our goslings ? Did not I see yon
running aw^y yesterday with my mo-
ther in your mouth ? Did you not eat
up all my relations last week ? You
ought to die the worst of deaths — to
be pecked into a thousand pieces.'"
Now hence. General Green, comes the
morbid hatred of America, as you term
it — because her conduct has been pre-
datory — because she has ruined fo
many helpless children, so many miser-
able women, so many aged men —
because she has disturbed the order of
the world, and rifled those sacred trea-
sures which human virtue had hoarded
for human misery. Why is such hatred
morbid? Why, is it not just, inevitable,
innate ? Why, is it not disgraceful to
want it ? Why, is it not honourable
to feel it ?

Hate America ! ! ! I have loved and
honoured America all my life; and
in the Edinburgh Review^ and at
all opportunities which my trumpery
sphere of action has afforded^ I have
never ceased to praise and defend the
United States; and to every American
to whom I have had the good fortune
to be introduced, I have proffered all
the hospitality in my power. But I
cannot shut my eyes to enormous
dishonesty; nor, remembering their
former state, can I restrain myself
from calling on them (though I copy
Satan) to spring up from the gulf of
infamy in which they are rolling, —

** Awake, arise, or be for ever fUlen."

LETTERS ON AMERICAN DEBTS.

331

I am astonished that the honest
States of America do not draw a cor-
don sanitaire round their unpaying
brethren — that the truly mercantile
New Yorkers, and the thoroughly
honest people of Massachusetts, do not
in their European visits wear an uni-
form with « S. S., or Solvent States,**
worked in gold letters upon the coat,
and receipts in fiill of all demands
tamboured on their waistcoats, and
** our own property " figured on their
pantaloons.

But the General seemed shocked
that I should say the Americans can-
not go to war without money: but
what do I mean by war? Not irrup-
tions into Canada — not the embodying
of militia in Oregon ; but a long,
tedious, maritime war of four or five
years' duration. Is any man so foolish
as to suppose that Rothschild has noth-
ing to do with such wars as these? and
that a bankrupt State, without the
power of borrowing a shilling in the
world, may not be crippled in such
a contest? We all know that the
Americans can fight. Nobody doubts
their courage. I see now in my
mind's eye a whole army on the plains
of Pennsylvania in battle array, im-
mense corps of insolvent light infantry,
regiments of heavy horse debtors,
battalions of repudiators, brigades of
bankrupts, with Vivre sans payer, ou
mourir, on their banners, and cere
alieno on their trumpets : all these
desperate debtors would fight to the
death for their country, and probably
drive into the sea their invading cre-
ditors. Of their courage, I repeat
again, I have no doubt. I wish I had
the same confidence in their wisdom.
But I believe they will become in-
toxicated by, the flattery of unprin-
cipled orators; and, instead of entering
with us into a noble competition in
making calico (the great object for
which the Anglo-Saxon race appears
to have been created), they will waste
their happiness and their money (if
they can get any) in years of silly,
bloody, foolish, and accursed war, to
prove to the world that Perkins is a
real fine gentleman, and that the car-
ronades of the Washington steamer

will carry further than those of the
Britisher Victoria, or the Robert Peel
vessel of war.

I am accused of applying the epithet
repudiation to States which have not
repudiated. Perhaps so ; but then
these latter States have not paid. But
what is the difierence between a man
who says, ** I don't owe you anything,
and wfil not pay you," and another
who says, " I do owe you a sum," and
who, having admitted the debt, never
pays it ? There seems in the first to
be some slight colour of right ; but
the second is broad, blazing, refulgent,
meridian fraud.

It may be very true that rich and
educated men in Pennsylvania wish to
pay the debt, and that the real ob-
jectors are the Dutch and German
agriculturists, who cannot be made to
understand the efiect of character
upon clover. All this may be very
true, but it is a domestic quarrel.
Their churchwardens of reputation
must make a private rate of infamy
for themselves — we have nothing to
do with this rate. The real quarrel
is the Unpaid World versus the State
of Pennsylvania.

And now, dear Jonathan, let me
beg of you to follow the advice of a
reaJ friend, who will say to yon what
Wat Tyler had not the virtue to say,
and what all speakers in the eleven
recent Pennsylvanian elections have
cautiously abstained from saying,—
**Make a great efibrt; book up at
once, and pay." You have no con-
ception of the obloquy and contempt
to which you are exposing yourselves
all over Europe. Bull is naturally dis-
posed to love you, but he loves nobody
who does not pay him. His imaginary
paradise is some planet of punctual
payment, where ready money prevails,
and where debt and discount are
unknown. As for me, as soon as I
hear that the last farthing is paid to
the last creditor, I will appear on my
knees at the bar of the Pennsylvanian
Senate in the plumeopicean robe of
American controversy. Each Con-
script Jonathan shall trickle over me
a few drops of tar, and help to decorate
me with those penal plumes in which

332 MODEBN

the vanquished reasoner of the trans-
atlantic world does homage to the
physical superiority of his opponents.
And now, having eased my soul of its
indignation, and sold my stock at 40
per cent, discount, I sulkily retire
from the subject, with a fixed intention
of lending no more money to free and

CHANGES-

enlightened republics, but of employing
my money hencefordi in buying up
Abyssinian bonds, and purchasing
into the Turkish Fours, or the Tunis
Three-and-a-half per Cent funds.

Stdsey Smith.

N(nrember2a,lS4S.

MODEEN CHANGES.

" The good of ancient times let others state.
I think it lucky I was bom so late.**

Mr. Editor,

It is of some importance at what
period a man is bom. A young man,
alive at this period, hardly knows to
what improvements of human life he
has been introduced; and I would
bring before his notice the following
eighteen changes which have taken
place in England since I first began
to breathe in it the breath of life — a
period amounting now to nearly
seventy-three years.

Gas was unknown : I groped about
the streets of London in all but the
utter darkness of a twinkling oil lamp,
under the protection of watchmen in
their grand climacteric, and exposed
to every species of depredation and
insult.

I have been nine hours in sailing
from Dover to Calais before the inven-
tion of steam. It took me nine hours
to go from Taunton to Bath before the
invention of railroads, and I now go in
six hours from Taunton to London !
In going from Taunton to Bath, I
sufiered between 10,000 and 12,000 se-
vere contusions, before stone-breaking
Macadam was bom.

I paid 15/. in a single year for re-
pairs of carriage-springs on the pave-

ment of London; and I now glide
without noise or fracture, on wooden
pavements.

I can walk, by the assistance of the
police, from one end of London to the
other, without molestation; or, if tired,
get into a cheap and active cab, instead
of those cottages on wheels, which the
hackney coaches were at the beginning
of my life.

I had no umbrella! There were little
used, and very dear. There were no
waterproof hats, and wy hat has often
been reduced by rains into its primitive
pulp.

I could not keep my smallclothes in
their proper place, for braces were un-
known. If I had the gout, there was
no colchicum. If I was bilious, there
was no calomel. If I was attacked by
ague, there was no quinine. There
were filthy cofiee-houses instead of
elegant clubs. Game could not be
bought. Quarrels about uncommnted
tithes were endless. The corruption of
Parliament, before Beform, infamons.
There were no banks to receive the
savings of the poor. The Poor Lavs
were gradually sapping the vitals of
the country; and whatever miseries I
suffered, I had no post to whisk my
complaints for a single penny to the
remotest comers of the empire; and
yet, in spite of ' all these privationSi I
I lived on quietly, and am now ashamed

FRAGMENT ON THE IRISH ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. 833

that I was not more discontented, and
utterly surprised that all these changes
and inventions did not occur two
centuries ago. Z.

I forgot to add, that as the basket of

stage coaches, in which luggage was
then carried, had no springs, your
clothes were rubbed all to pieces; and
that even in the best society one-third
of the gentlemen at least were always
drunk.

A FEAGMENT

ON

THE mSH EOMAN CATHOLIC CHUECH.

PREFACE.

Thb following unrevised fragment,
found among the papers of the late
Rev. Sydney Smith, if it serve no other
purpose, will at least prove that his
last, as well as his earliest efforts, were
exerted for the promotion of religious
freedom, and may satisfy those who

have objected to his later writings,
because his own interest appeared to be
bound up with his opinions, that he
did not hesitate to the last moment of
his life, boldly to advocate what he con-
sidered to be justice to others.

April, 1845.

Private Memoranda qf SvbjeeU intended
to have been introduced in the Pamphlet,

Debates in the House of Commons in 1826,
on the motion of Lord F. Egerton, for the
support of the Roman Catholic clergy.
Piinted separately, I believe, in Ireland.

Evidence before the House of Commons in
1824 and 1825, including Boyle's.

A Speech of Charles Grant's in 1819, on a
motion of James Daly to enforce the In-
surrection Act.

Debates on Maynooth, in February last
(184M).

Hard case of the priest* s first year.

Provision offered by Pitt and Castlereagh,
and accepted by the hierarchy.

*Send ambassadors to Constantinople, and
refuse to send them to Borne.

England should cast off its connection with
the Irish Church.

Lord F. Egerton's plan for paying the Bo-
man Catholic clei^ in 1826. The prelates
agreed to take the money.

*01d mode of governing by Protestants at
an end.

*yast improvements since the Union, and
folly specified in Martin, page 86.

* Priests dare not thwart the people for fear

of losing money.
*Dreadftd oppression of the people.

* Bishops dare not enforce their rules. Th^

must have money.

* These subjects are treated of in the Fragment.

The revenue of the Irish Boman
Catholic Church is made up of half-
pence, potatoes, rags, bones, and frag-

ments of old clothes; and those, Irish
old clothes. They worship often in
hovels, or in the open air, from the

334

A FRAGMENT ON THE

want of any place of worship. Their
religion is the religion of three-fourths
of Uie population! Not far off, in a
well-windowed and Well-roofed house,
is a well-paid Protestant clergyman,
preaching to stools and hassockis, and
crying in the wilderness; near him
the clerk, near 'him the sexton, near
him the sexton's wife — fhrioos against
the errors of Popery, and willing to
lay down their lives for the great
tmths established at the Diet of
Augsburg.

There is a story in the Leinster
£unily which passes under the name of

<*5Ae iff not wdL"

A Protestant clergyman, whose
ehurch was in the neighbourhood, was
a guest at the house of that upright
and excellent man the Duke of Leinster.
He had been staying there three or
four days; and on Saturday night, as
they were all retiring to their rooms,
the Duke said, **We shall meet to-
morrow at breakfast." — "■ Not so (said
our Milesian Protestant); your hour,
my lord, is a little too late fer me; I
am very particular in the discharge of
my duty, and your breakfast will in-
terfere with my church." The Duke
was pleased with the very proper ex-
cuses of his guest, and they separated
for the night; — his Grace perhaps
deeming his palace more safe from all
the evils of life for containing in its
bosom such an exemplary son of the
Church. The first person, however,
whom the Duke saw in the morning
upon entering the breakfast-room was
our punctual Protestant, deep in rolls
and butter, his finger in an egg, and a
large slice of the best Tipperary ham
secured on his plate. ** Delighted to
see you, my dear vicar," said the Duke,
" but I must say as much surprised as
delighted." — " Oh, don't you know
what has happened?" said the sacred
breakfaster,— "-SAc is notweU,"-^'' Who
is not well?" said the Duke: ** you are
not married — you have no sister
living — Pm quite uneasy ; tell me who
is not well." — "Why the fact is, my
lord Duke, that my congregation
consists of the clerk, the sexton, and
the sexton's wife. Now the sexton's

wife is in very delicate health: when
she cannot attend, we cannot muster
the number mentioned in the rubric;
and we have, therefore, no service on
that day. The good woman had a cold
and sore throat this morning, and, as
I had breakfasted but slightly, I
thought I might as well hurry back to
the regular family dejeuner." I don't
know that the clergyman behaved
improperly; but such a church is hardly
worth an insurrection and civil war
every ten years.

Sir Robert did well in fighting it out
with O'ConneU. He was too late; bat
when ne began he did it boldly and
sensibly, and I, for one, am heartily
glad O'Connell has been found guilty
and imprisoned. He was either iu
earnest about Repeal, or he was not
If he were in earnest, I entirely agree
with Lord Grey and Lord Spencer,
that civil war is preferable to Repeal.
Much as I hate wounds, dangers,
privations, and explosions — much as
I love regular hours of dinner — foolish
as I think men covered with the fea-
thers of the malQpullusdomesticva, and
covered with lace in the course of the
ischiatic nerve — much as I detest all
these follies and ferocities, I would
rather turn soldier myself than ac-
quiesce quietly in such a separation of
the empire.

It is such a piece of nonsense, that no
man can have any reverence for him-
self who would stop to discuss such a
question. It is such a piece of anti-
British villany, that none but the bit-
terest enemy of our blood and people
could entertain such a project ! It is
to be met only with round and grape—
to be answered by Shrapnel and Con-
greve ; to be discussed in hollow
squares, and refuted by battalions four
deep; to be put down by the ultima
ratio of that armed Aristotle, the Duke
of Wellington.

O'ConneU is released ; and released
I have no doubt by the conscientious
decision of the Law Lords. If he were
unjustly (even from some technical de-
fect) imprisoned, I rejoice in his libera<
tion. England is, I believe, the on^
country in the world, where such an
event could have happened, and a i?ise

IRISH ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.

335

Irishman (if there be a wise Irishman)
should be slow in separating from a
country whose spirit can produce, and
whose institutions can admit, of such a
result. Of his guilt no one doubts, but
guiltj men must be hung technically and
according to established rules ; upon a
statutable gibbet, with parliament rope,
and a legal hangman, sheriff, and chap-
lain on the scaffold, and the mob in the
foreground.

But, after all, I haye no desire my
dear Daniel should come to any harm,
for I believe there is a great deal of
virtue and excellent meaning in him,
and I must now beg a few minutes*
conversation with him. "After all,
my dear Daniel, what is it you want ?
— a separation of the two countries?
— for what purpose ? — for your own
aggrandisement? — for the gratification
of your personal vanity ? You don't
know yourself ; you are much too hon-
ourable and moral a man, and too
clear-sighted a person for such a busi-
ness as this : the empire will be twisted
out of your hands by a set of cut-throat
villains, and you will die secretly by a
poisoned potato, or be pistolled in the
streets.. You have too much sense and
taste and openness to endure for a ses-
sion the stupid and audacious wicked-
ness and nonsense of your associates.
If you want fame, you must be insati-
able ! Who is so much known in all
Europe, or so much admired by honest
men for the real good you had done to
your country, before this insane cry of
Repeal ? And don't imagine you can
intimidate this Government ; whatever
be their faults or merits, you may take
my word for it, you will not intimidate
them. They will prosecute you again,
and put down your Clontarf meetings,
and they will be quite right in doing so.
They may make concessions, and I
think they will ; but they would fall
into utter contempt if they allowed
themselves to be terrified into a disso-
lution of the Union. They know full
well that the English nation are unan-
imous and resolute upon this point, and
that they would prefer war to a Repeal.
And now, dear Daniel, sit down quietly
at Derrynane, and tell me, when the
bodily finune is refreshed with the >vine

of Bordeaux, whether all this be worth
while. What is the object of all go-
vernment ? The object of all govern-
ment is roast mutton, potatoes, claret,
a stout constable, an honest justice, a
clear highway, a free chapeL What
trash to be bawling in the streets about
the Green Isle, the Isle of the Ocean ;
the bold anthem of Erin go hragh!
A far better anthem would be Erin go
bread and cheese, Erin go cabins that
will keep out the rain, Erin go panta-
loons without holes in them I What
folly to be making eternal declamations
about governing yourselves ! If laws
are good and well administered, is it
worth while to rush into war and
rebellion in order that no better laws
may be made in another place ? Are
you an Etoii boy, who has just come
out, full of Plutarch's Lives, and con-
sidering in every case how Epaminon-
das or Philopoemen would have acted,
or are you our own dear Daniel, drilled
in all the business and bustle of life ?
I am with you heart and soul in my
detestation of all injustice done to Ire-
land. Your priests shall be fed and
paid, the liberties of your Church be
scrupulously guarded, and in' civil
affairs the most even justice be pre-
served between Catholic and Protes-.
tant. Thus far I am a thorough rebel
as well as yourself; but when you come
to the perilous nonsense of Repeal, in
common with every honest man who
has five grains of common sense, I take
my leave."

It is entertaining enough, that al-
though the Irish are beginning to be so
clamorous about making their own laws,
the wisest and the best statutes in the
books have been made since their union
with England. All Catholic disabili-
ties have been abolished ; a good police
has been established all over the king-
dom ; public courts of petty sessions
have been instituted ; free trade be-
tween Great Britain and Ireland has
been completely carried into effect ;
lord-lieutenants are placed in every
county; church rates are taken off
Catholic shoulders; the County Grand
Jury Rooms are flung open to the
public ; county surveyors are of great
service ; a noble provision is made for

336

A FRAGMENT ON THE

educating the people. I never saw a
man who had returned to Ireland after
four or five years' absence, who did not
say how much it had improved, and
how fast it was improving : and this is
the country which is to be Erin-go-
bragh*d by this shallow, vain, and
irritable people into bloodshed and
rebellion I

The first thing to be done is to pay
the priests, and after a little time they
will take the money. One man wants
to repair his cottage ; another wants a
^i^SSy > A third cannot shut his eyes to
the dilapidations of a cassock. The
draft is payable at sight in Dublin, or
by agents in the next market town
dependent upon the Commission in
Dublin. The housekeeper of the holy
man is importunate for money, and if
it be not procured by drawing for the
salary, it must be extorted by curses
and comminations from the ragged
worshippers, slowly, sorrowfully, and
sadly. There will be some opposition
at first, but the facility of getting the
salary without the violence they are
now forced to use, and the difficulties
to which they are exposed in procuring
the payment of those emoluments to
which they are fairly entitled, will, in
the end, overcome all obstacles. And
if it do not succeed, what harm is done
by the attempt ? It evinces on the
part of this country the strongest dis-
position to do what is just, and to
apply the best remedy to the greatest
evil ; but the very attempt would do
good, and would be felt in the great
Catholic insurrection, come when it
will. All rebellions and disaffections
are general and terrible in proportion
as one party has sufiered, and the other
inflicted ; — any great measure of con-
ciliation, proposed in the spirit of kind-
ness, is remembered, and renders war
less terrible, and opens avenues to
peace.

The Roman Catholic priest could not
refuse to draw his salary from the State
without incurring the indignation of
his flock- *' Why are you to come upon
us for all this money, when you can
ride over to Sligo or Belfast, and draw
a draft upon Government for the
amount ? " It is not easy to give a

satisfactory answer to this, to a shrewd
man who is starving to death.

Of course, in talking of a government
payment to the Catholic priest, I mean
it should be done with the utmost fair*
ness and good faith ; no attempt to
gain patronage, or to make use of the
Pope as a stalking-horse for playing
tricks. Leave the patronage exactly
as yon find it ; and take the greatest
possible care that the Catholic clergy
have no reason to suspect you in this
particular ; do it like gentlemen, with-
out shuffling and prevarication, or leave
it alone altogether.

The most important step in improve-
ment which mankind ever made was
the secession from the see of Borne, and
the establishment of the Protestant
religion ; but though I have the sin-
cerest admiration of the Protestant
faith, I have no admiration 'of Protes-
tant hassocks on which there are no
knees, nor of seats on which there* is
no superincumbent Protestant pressure,
nor of whole acres of tenantless Pro-
testAnt pews, in which no human being
of the 500 sects of Christians is ever
seen. I have no passion for sacred
emptiness, or pious vacuity. The
emoluments of those livings in which
there are few or no Protestants ought,
after the death of the present incum-
bents, to be appropriated in part to the
uses of the predominant religion, or
some arrangements made for super-
seding such utterly useless ministers
immediately, securing to them the
emoluments they possess.

Can any honest man say, that in
parishes (as is the case frequently in
Ireland) containing SOOO or 4000
Catholics and 40 or 50 Protestants,
there is the smallest chance of the
majority being converted ? Are not
the Catholics (except in the North of
Ireland, where the great mass are
Presbyterians) gaining everywhere on
the Protestants? The tithes were ori-
ginally possessed by the Catholic
Church of Ireland. Not one shilling
of them is now devoted to that pur-
pose. An immense majority of the
comn^on people are Catholics; they
see a church richly supported by the
spoils of their own church establish-

IRISH ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.

337

ments, in whose tenets not one tenth
part of the people believe. Is it pos-
sible to believe this can endure ? —
that a light, irritable, priest-ridden
people will not, under such circum-
stances, always remain at the very
eve of rebellion, always ready to ex-
plode when the finger of Daniel touches
the hair trigger? — for Daniel, be it
said, though he hates shedding blood
in small quantities, has no objection
to provoking kindred nations to war.
He very properly objects to killing or
being killed by Lord Alvanley ; but
would urge on ten thousand Pats in
civil combat against ten thousand
Bulls. His objections are to small
homicides; and his vow that he has
registered in Heaven is only against
retail destruction, and murder by piece-
meal. He does not like to tease Satan
by driblets ; but to earn eternal tor-
ments by persuading eight million
Irish and twelve million Britons no
longer to buy and sell oats and salt
meat, but to butcher each other in
God's name to extermination. And
what if Daniel dies, — of what use his
death ? Does Daniel make the occa-
sion, or does the occasion make Daniel?
— Daniels are made by the bigotry
and insolence of England to Ireland ;
and till the monstrous abuses of the
Protestant Church in that country are
rectified, there will always be Daniels,
and they will always come out of their
dens more powerful and more popular
than when you cast them in.

I do not mean hy this, unjustly and
cowardly to run down O'ConnelL He
has been of eminent service to his
country in the question of Catholic
Emancipation, and I am by no means
satisfied that with the gratification of
vanity there are not mingled genuine
feelings of patriotism, and a deep sense
of the injustice done to his country.
His first success, however, flung him
off his guard ; and perhaps he trusted
too much in the timidity of the present
Government, who are by no means
composed of irresolute or weak men.

If I thought Ireland quite safe, I
should still object to injustice. I
could never endure in silence that the
Catholic Church of Ireland should be

Vol. n.

left in its present state ; but I am afraid
France and England can now afford to
fight: and having saved a little money,
they will, of course, spend it in fight-
ing. That puppy of the waves, young
Joinville, will steam over in a high-
pressure fleet I — and then comes an
immense twenty per cent, income-tax
war, an universal insurrection in Ire-
land, and a crisis of misery and distress,
in which life will hardly be worth
having. The struggle may end in our
favour, but it may noti and the object
of political wisdom is to avoid these
struggles. I want to see jolly Roman
Catholic priests secure of their income,
without any motive for sedition or
turbulence. I want to see Patricks at
the loom ; cotton and silk factories
springing up in the bogs; Ireland a
rich, happy, quiet country! — scrib-
bling, carding, cleaning, and making
calico, as if mankind had only a few
days more allotted to them for making
clothes, and were ever after to remain
stark naked.

Remember that between your im-
pending and your past wars with
Ireland, there is this remarkable dif-
ference. You have given up your
Protestant auxiliaries; the Protestants
enjoyed in former disputes all the
patronage of Ireland ; they fought not
only from religious hatred, but to pre-
serve their monopoly; — that monopoly
is gone; you have been candid and
just for thirty years, and have lost
those friends whose swords were al-
ways ready to defend the partiality of
the Government, and to stifle the cry
of justice. 'J he next war will not be
between Catholic and Protestant, but
between Ireland and England.

I have some belief in Sir Robert.
He is a man of great understanding,
and muftt see that this eternal 0*Con-
nelling will never do, — that it is im-
possible it can last. We are in a
transition state, and the Tories may
be assured that the Baronet will not
go too fast. If Peel tells them that
the thing must be done, they may be
sure it is high time to do it; — they
may retreat mournfully and sullenly
before common justice and common
sense, but retreat they must when

Z

338

A FRAGMENT ON THE

Tamworth gives the word, — and in
quick-step too, and without loss of
time.

And let me beg of my dear Ultras
not to imagine that they survive for a
single instant without Sir Robert —
that they could form an Ultra-tory
Administration. Is there a Chartist
in Great Britain who would not, upon
the first intimation of such an attempt,
order a new suit of clothes, and call
upon the baker and milkmen for an
extended credit? Is there a political
reasoner who would not come out of
his hole with a new constitution? Is
there one ravenous rogue who would
not be looking for his prey? Is there
one honest man of common sense who
docs not see that universal disaffection
and civil war would follow from the
blind fury, the childish prejudices, and
the deep ignorance of such a sect? I
have a high opinion of Sir Robert
Peel, but he must summon up all his
political courage, and do something
next session for the payment of the
Roman Catholic priests. He must
run some risk of shocking public
opinion; no greater risk, however,
than he did in Catholic Emancipation.
I am sure the Whigs would be true to
him, and I think I observe that very
many obtuse country gentlemen are
alarmed by the state of Ireland and
the hostility of France and America.

Give what you please to the Catholic
priests, habits are not broken in a day.
There must be time as well as justice,
but in the end these things have their
effect. A buggy, a house, some fields
near it, a decent income paid quarterly;
in the long run these are the cures of
sedition and disaffection; men don't
quit the common business of life and
join bitter political parties unless they
have something justly to complain of.

But where is the money — about
400,000/. per annum — to come from?
Out of the pockets of that best of men,
Mr. ihoraas Grenville, out of the
pockets of the Bishops, of Sir Robert
Inglis, and all other men who pay all
other taxes; and never will public
money be so well and wisely em-
ployed!

It turns out that there is no law to

prevent entering into diplomatic en*
gagements with the Pope. The sooner
we become acquainted with a gentle*
man who has so much to say to eight
millions of our subjects the better !
Can anything be so childish and ab-
surd as a horror of communicating
with the Pope, and all the hobgoblins
we have imagined of premunires and
outlawries for this contraband trade
in piety? Our ancestors (strange to
say wiser than ourselves) have left us
to do as we please, and the sooner
Government do, what they can do
legally, the better. A thousand oppor -
tunities of doing good in Irish affairs
have been lost, from our having no
avowed and dignified agent at the
Court of Rome. If it depended upon
me, I would send the Duke of Devon-
shire there to-morrow, with nine chap-
lains and several tons of Protestant
theology. I have no love of Popery,
but the Pope is at all events better
than the idol of Juggernaut, whose
chaplains I believe we pay, and whose
chariot I dare say is made in Long
Acre. We pay 10,000/. a year to
our ambassador at Constantinople,
and are startled with the idea of com-
municating diplomatically with Rome,
deeming the Sultan a better Christian
than the Pope!

The mode of exacting clerical dues
in Ireland is quite arbitrary and capri-
cious. Uniformity is out of the ques-
tion ; everything depends on the dis-
position and temper of the clergyman.
There are salutary regulations put
forth in each diocese respecting church
dues and church discipline, and put
forth by episcopal and synodical au-
thority. Specific sums are laid down
for mass, marriage, and the adminis-
tration of the Eucharist. These autho-
rised payments are moderate enough ;
but every priest, in spite of these rules,
makes the most he can of his ministry,
and the strangest discrepancy prevails,
even in the same diocese, in the de-
mands made upon the people. The priest
and his flock are continually coming
into collision on pecuniary matters.
Twice a year the holy man collects
confession money, under the denomina-
tion of Christmas and Easter offerings.

IRISH ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.

339

He selects in every neighbourhood one
or two houses, in which he holds sta-
tions of confession. Very disagreeable
scenes take place when additional
money is demanded, or when additional
time for payment is craved. The first
thing done when there is a question of
marrying a couple is, to make a bargain
about the marriage money. The wary
minister watches the palpitations, puts
on a shilling for every sigh, and two-
pence on every tear, and maddens the
impetuosity of the young lovers up to a
pound sterling. The remuneration
prescribed by the diocesan statutes is
never thought of for a moment ; the
priest makes as hard a bargain as he
can, and the bed the poor peasants are
to lie upon is sold, to make their con-
cubinage lawfiil ; — but every one pre-
sent at the marriage is to contribute ;
— the minister, after begging and en-
treating some time to little purpose,
gets into a violent rage, abuses and is
abused;— and in this way is celebrated
one of the sacraments of the Catholic
Church I — The same scenes of alterca-
tion take place when gossip-money is
refused at baptisms; but the most
painful scenes take place at' extreme
unction, a ceremony to which the com-
mon people in Ireland attach the ut-
most importance. "Pay me before-
hand — this is not enough. I insist
upon more, I know you can afford it,
I insist upon a larger fee !" — and all
this before the dying man, who feels
he has «not an hour to live ! and be-
lieves that salvation depends upon the
timely application of this sacred grease.
Other bad consequences arise out of
the present system of Irish Church
support. Many of the clergy are con-
stantly endeavouring to overreach and
undermine one another. Every man
looks to his own private emolument,
regardless of all covenants, expressed
or implied. The curate does not make
a fair return no the parish priest, nor
the parish priest to the curate. There
is an universal scramble; every one
gets what he can, and seems to think
he would be almost justified in appro-
priating the whole to himself. And
liow can all this be otherwise ? How
are the poor wretched clergy to live

but by setting a high price on their
theological labours, and using every
incentive of fear and superstition to
extort from six millions of beggars the
little payments wanted for the bodies
of the poor, and the support of life ! I
maintain that it is shocking and wicked
to leave the religious guides of six
millions of people in such a state of
destitution I — to bestow no more
thought upon them than upon the
clergy of the Sandwich Islands ! If I
were a member of the Cabinet, and
met my colleagues once a week to eat
birds and bea,sts, and to talk over the
state of the world, I should begin upon
Ireland before the soup was finished,
go on through fish, turkey, and saddle
of mutton, and never end till the last
thimbleful of claret had passed down
the throat of the incredulous Hadding-
ton: but there they sit, week after
week; there they come, week after
week ; the Piccadilly Mars, the Scotch
Neptune, Themis Lyndhurst, the Tam-
worth Baronet, dear Goody, and dearer
Gladdy, and think no more of paying
the Catholic clergy, than a man of real
fashion does of paying his tailor ! And
there is no excuse for this in fanati-
cism. There is only one man in the
Cabinet who objects from reasons
purely fanatical, because the Pope is
the Scarlet Lady, or the Seventh Vial,
or the Little Horn. All the rest are
entirely of opinion that it ought to be
done — that it is the one thing needful ;
but they are afraid of bishops, and
county meetings, newspapers, and
pamphlets, and reviews ; all fair
enough objects of apprehension, but
they must be met, and encountered,
and put down. It is impossible that
the subject can be much longer avoided,
and that every year is to produce a
deadly struggle with the people, and a
long trial in time of peace with O*
somebody, the patriot for the time
being, or the general, perhaps, in time
of a foreign war.

If I were a Bishop, living beautifully
in a state of serene plenitude, I don't
think I could endure the thought of so
many honest, pious, and laborious
clergymen of another faith, placed in
such disgraceful circumstances ! I

z 2

340

A FRAGMENT ON THE

could not get into my carriage with
jelly-springs, or see my two courses
every day, without remembering the
buggy and the bacon of some poor old
Catholic Bishop, ten times as laborious,
and with much more, perhaps, of theo-
logical learning than myself, often
distressed for a few pounds I and
burthened with duties utterly dispro-
portioned to his age and strength. I
think, if the extreme comfort of my
own condition did not extinguish all
feeling for others, X should sharply
commiserate such a Church, and at-
tempt with ardour and perseverance to
apply the proper remedy. Now let us
bring names and well-known scenes
before the English reader, to give him
a clearer notion of what passes in
Catholic Ireland. '\ he living of St.
George's, Hanover Square, is a bene-
fice of about 1500/. per annum, and a
good house. It is in the possession of
i)r. Hodgson, who is also Dean of
Carlisle, worth, I believe, about 1500/.
more. A more comfortable existence
can hardly be conceived. Dr. Hodg-
son is a very worthy; amiable man, and
I am very glad he is as rich as he is :
but suppose he had no revenues but
what he got off his own bat, — sup-
pose that instead of tumbling through
the skylight, as his income now does,
it was procured by Catholic methods.
The Doctor tells Mr. Thompson he
will not marry him to Miss Simpson
under 30/. ; Thompson demurs, and
endeavours to beat him down. The
Doctor sees Miss Simpson ; finds her
very pretty ; thinks Thompson hasty,
and after a long and undignified nego-
tiation, the Doctor gets his fee. Soon
after this he receives a message from
Place, the tailor, to come and anoint
him with extreme unction. He re-
pairs to the bed-side, and tells Mr.
Place that he will not touch him under
a suit of clothes, equal to 10/1 : the
family resist, the altercation goes on
before the perishing artisan, the price
is reduced to 8/., and Mr. Place is oiled.
On the ensuing Sunday the child of
Lord B. is to be christened ; the god-
fathers and godmothers will only give
a sovereign each : the Doctor refuses
to do it for the monev, and the church

is a scene of clamour and confusion.
These are the scenes which, under
similar circumstances, tiToti/t/take place
here, for the congregation want the
comforts of religion without fees, and
will cheat the clergyman if they can ;
and the clergyman who means to live,
must meet all these artifices with stem
resistance. And this is the wretched
state of the Irish Roman Catholic
clergy ! — a miserable blot and stain
on the English nation ! What a bless-
ing to this country would a real Bishop
be ! A man who thought it the first
duty of Christianity to allay the bad
passions of mankind, and to reconcile
contending sects with each other.
What peace and happiness such a man
as the Bishop of London might have
conferred on the Empire, if, instead
of changing black dresses for white
dresses, and administering to the
frivolous disputes of foolish zealots, he
had laboured to abate the hatred of
Protestants for the Roman Catholics,
and had dedicated his powerful under-
standing to promote religious peace
in the two ceuntries I Scarcely any
Bishop is sufiiciently a man of the
world to deal with fanatics. The way
is not to reason with them, but to ask
them to dinner. They are armed
against logic and remonstrance, but
they are puzzled in a labyrinth of wines,
disarmed by facilities and concessions,
and, introduced to a new world, come
away thinking more of hot and cold,
and dry and sweet, than of Newman,
Keble, and Pusey. So mouldered
away Hannibal's army at Capua ! So
the primitive and perpendicular prig
of Puseyism is softened into practical
wisdom, and coaxed into common
sense ! Providence gives us Generals,
and Admirals, and Chancellors of the
Exchequer ; but I never remember in
my time a real Bishop, — a grave
elderly man, full of Greek, with sound
views of the middle voicef and preter-
perfect tense, gentle and kind to his poor
clergy, of powerful and commanding
eloquence ; in Parliament never to be
put down when the great interests of
mankind were concerned ; leaning to
the Government when it was right,
leaning to the People when they were

IKISH KOMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.

S41

right ; feeling that if the Spirit of God
had called him to that high office, he
was called for no mean purpose, but
rather that, seeing clearly, and acting
boldly, and intending purely, he might
confer lasting benefits upon mankind.

We consider the Irish clergy as fac-
tions, and as encouraging the bad anti>
British spirit of the people. How can
it be otherwise ? They live by the
people ; they have nothing to live upon
but the voluntary oblations of the
people ; and they must fall into the
same spirit as the people, or they would
be starved to death. No marriage ;
no mortuary masses; no unctions to the
priest who preached against O'Connell!

Give the clergy a maintenance se-
parate from the will of the people, and
you will then enable them to oppose
the folly and madness of the people.
The objection to the State provision
does not really come from the clergy,
but from the agitators and repealers :
these men see the immense advantage
of carrying the clergy with them in
their agitation, and of giving the sanc-
tion of religion to political hatred;
they know that the clergy, moving in
the same direction with the people,
have an immense influence over them;
and they are very wisely afraid, not
only of losing this co-operating power,
but of seeing it, by a state provision,
arrayed against them. I am fully con-
vinced that a State payment to the
Catholic clergy, by leaving to that
laborious and useful body of men the
exercise of their free judgment, would
be the severest blow that Irish agitation
could receive.

For advancing these opinions, I
have no doubt I shall be assailed by
Sacerdos, Vindex, Latimer, Vates,
Clerlcus, Aruspex, and be called atheist,
deist^ democrat, smuggler, poacher,
highwayman, Unitarian, and Edin-
burgh reviewer ! Still, / am in the right,
— and what I say, requires excuse for
being trite and obvious, not for being
mischievous and paradoxical. I write
for three reasons: first, because I really
wish to do good ; secondly, because if
I don't write, I know nobody else will;
and thirdly, because it is the nature of
the animal to write, and I cannot help

it. Still, in looking back I see no
reason to repent. What I have said
ought to be done, generally has been
done, but always twenty or thirty years
too late ; done, not of course because
I have said it, but because it was no
longer possible to avoid doing it. Hu-
man beings cling to their delicious
tyrannies, and to their exquisite non-
sense, like a drunkard to his bottle,
and go on till death stares them in the
face. The monstrous state of the
Catholic Church in Ireland will pro-
bably remain till some monstrous ruin
threatens the very existence of the
Empire, and Lambeth and Fulham
are cursed by the affrighted people.

I have always compared the Pro-
testant Church in Ireland (and I believe
my friend Thomas Moore stole the
simile from me) to the institution of
butchers' shops in all the villages of
our Indian empire. " We will have a
butchers' shop in every village, and
you, Hindoos, shall pay for it. We
know that many of you do not eat
meat at all, and that the sight of beef
steaks is particularly offensive to yon ;
but still, a stray European may pass
through your village, and want a steak
or a chop : the shop shall be esta-
blished ; and you shall pay for it."
This is English legislation for Ire-
land ! ! There is no abuse like it in
all Europe, in all Asia, in all the dis-
covered parts of Africa, and in all we
have heard of Timbuctoo ! It is an
error that requires 20,060 armed men
for its protection in time of peace;
which costs, more than a million a
year ; and which, in the first French
war, in spite of the puffing and panting
of fighting steamers, will and must
break out into desperate rebellion.

It is commonly said, if the Roman
Catholic priests are paid by the State,
they will lose their influence over their
flocks ; — not their yatr influence — not
that influence which any wise and good
man would wish to see in all religions
— not the dependence of humble igno-
rance upon prudence and piety — only
fellowship in faction, and fraternity in
rebellion; — all that will be lost. A
pecp-of-day clergyman will no longer
preach to a peep-of-day congregation —
z3

342 FRAGMENT ON THE IRISH ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.

a Whiteboy vicar will no longer lead the
psalm to Whiteboy vocalists; but every-
thing; that is good and wholesome will
remain. This, however, is not what
the anti-British faction want ; they
want all the animation which piety
can breathe into sedition, and all the
fury which the priesthood can preach
to diversity of faith : and this is what
they mean by a clergy losing their in-
fluence over the people! The less a
clergyman exacts of his people, — the
more his payments are kept out of
sight, the less will be the friction with
which he exercises the functions of his
office. A poor Catholic may respect a
priest the more who manies, baptizes,
and anoints ; but he respects him be-
cause he associates with his name and
character the performance of sacred
duties, not because he exacts heavy
fees for doing so* Double fees would

be a very doubtful cure for scepticism;
and though we have often seen tlie
tenth of the earth's produce carted
away for the benefit of the clergymen,
we do not remember any very lively
marks of satisfaction and delight which
it produced in the countenance of the
decimated person. I am thoroughly
convinced that State payments to the
Catholic clergy would remove a thou-
sand causes of hatred between the
priest and his flock, and would be as
favourable to the increase of his useful
authority, as it would be fatal to his
factious influence over the people.

INDEX.

Abbott, Chief Justice, his opinions on the le-
g^ality of using spring-guns, i. 324.

Abraham, apologue of. ii. 248.

Abseuteeism in Ireland,!. 308; its consequpaces,
315.

Accomplishments, female, i. 181.

Advertising system of, il. 99.

Africa, agriculture in, i. 72 ; refinement among
barbarous tribes in, 73 ; trial by ordeal in, 74 ;
Furra Society in, 74 ; natives qf. in the neigh-
bourhood of Sierra Leone, 71''75; best mode
of becoming acquainted with the interior of,
285.

Alarmists in 1802, notjB on, L 10.

Alfonso, Lewis's Tragedy of, reviewed, 1. 15—

17.

Almshouses, likened to church property, ii. 290.

America, United Slates of; review of Travels
in, i. 240—250 ; of Seybert's work on, 286—
292} of Duncan's Travels in, ii. 443—450; their
statistics,!. 286—292; cheapness of their go-
vernment, 241. ii. 43; their religious tolera-
tion, 43: their attention to education, 45;
cause or their exemption from taxes, 49 ;

t their navv, 51.

American debts, Letters on, 11. 326—332.

Americans, their sensitiveness, ii. 46; their
curiosity, 48; their fanaticism 51; their dislike
of games, 51 ; their system of slavery de-
nounced, 52.

Amusements, objections to them by the Me-
thodists, i. 98 ; of the poor, interference with,
136. 140; evangelical objections to them, 148;
of the rich, 252—255.

Anabaptists, their missions in India, i. 96—114.

Anastasius, Hope's, review of, i. 316—322.

Angling, description of, i. 135.

Anglomania, Necker and the Encyclop^sts
charged with, by M. Fievee, 1* 36.

Animals, cruelty to, i. 135

tferte Nature, 251.

Ant-bears, their habits, ii. 79.

AnticHtholics, their addresses to the Govern-
ment, i. 224.

Antiquity, superior wisdom of modern times
over. ii. 60.

Arcadian cant described, i. 47.

Archdeacons, their extravagant pay, ii. 259. 291 .

Arians. burnt as heretics in 1612, i. 215.

Aristocracy, their habits in reference to the
game laws, i 251 ; amusements, 252—255 259.

, French, their probable restoration, i.

24.

Arminians and Calvinists, neutrality of Church
of England between, ii. 8.

Army, Turkish, its want of discipline, 1. 67 ;
American, 289.

Articles of the Church, relaxation of, 1. 101.

Arts and sciences, mankind much happier for

discoveries in, i. 183.
Ashantee, review of Bowdich's work on, i. 280—

285.
Australia, review of CoUins's Account of, i.

27—34.
Authors, one lesson to be drawn from the

Deluge by them, i. 151.

B.

Bail, justification of the law of, 1. 56.

Bailey, Mr. Justice, his opinion on the legality
of using spring-guns. i. 326.

Bakers, fraudulent, custom at Constantinople
towards, ii. 1 14.

Ballot, ii. 305—318; its alleged necessity to
prevent intimidation, 305—307; would not
put an end to canvassing, 308 ; its tyranny in
compelling a concealment of votes, 308 ; its
tendency to sow universal distrust and ex-
terminate natural leaders, 308; members of
Parliament may claim an equal right to it
with the electors, 309 ; a dangerous innova.
tion for a temporary evil, 809 ; renders scru-
tiny impossible, 310; takes away all interest
in watching the registrations, 310; its effect
on petitions, 311 ; on the communications
between the representative and the con-
stituent, 311; its inefficiency for concealment
of opinion, 312 ; leads to deceit and vil-
lany, 313; would not prevent the disfran-
chisement of voters, 314 ; Randolph's opinion
of it, 314 ; its abolition in Virginia, 314 ; would
disseminate hatred among classes in Eng-
land, 314 ; stronger objections to its adoption
in Ireland, 314 ; utterly inefficient against the
abuses ofpower, 315; its operation in America,
315 ; in clubs, 315 ; would not prevent bribery,
315; would lead to universal suffrage, 316;
would not be accepted without it, 316; picture
of aballoto-Grotical family, 316 ; a mere illu-
sion, 317 ; folly of regardmg it aa harmless,
317 ; or as an experiment, 317.

Baltic Powers, brief picture,of their forces, i.67.

Baltimore, its increase, i. 240.

Bankes, Mr., bis Act against buying game,ii.
28.

Bar, the English, its respectability preserved
by its inequality of income, ii. 257. '

Barbarians, their tendency to form secret so-
cieties, i. 74.

Barillon, his testimony as to the English court
being in the pay ot the French, i. 164 ; his
letters to Louis aIV. referred to, 213-214.

Barlow, Sir George, his conduct at Madras, i.
191—201.

Barristers of six years' standing, the great
primum mobile of human alfidrs, i. 214.
Z 4

344

INDEX.

Barrow, his eloqucnee, i. 5.

Bass's Straits, dUcoverv of, i. 33.

Bathuriit, New South Wales, 1. 264.

Bear-baiting, proceedings against the practice
of, i. 136.

Beggary, encouraged bv the Poor-Laws, i. 348.

Bell, Dr., character and saying of, ii. 99.

Benevolence, universal, a principle of ethics, f.
8 ; Mr. Godwin's principle of, 3 ; particular
and universHi, contrasted, 3.

Bengal, missionary proceedings in, 1. 106. 120.

Benn-t, Hon. H. G., his pamphlet upon New
Holland, i. 270.

Bentham, Jeremy, on thepromulgation of laws,
L 153; review of his Book of FallactKS, ii.
&9— 74; his faults and merits, 60; his fol-
lowers advocate the ballot and new scheme
of registration, 310.

Bernstorff, the great minister of Denmark, i.
52.

Bertrandon de la Brocquidre, review of bis
Travels, i. 185—187.

Best, Mr. Justice, on the legality of using
spring-guns, i. 327—340. 348.

Bigge, Mr , his report of the colony of New
South Wales, ii. 12—24.

Biffotry of the English in reference to Catholic
Emancipation, i. 88.

Birds of Brazil, ii. 77.

Bishops, their power of making laws, i. 23 ; ob-
jections to investing them with power to
enforce ecclesiastical residence, 48; subjec
tion of the clergy to them, 122 ; objections to
increasing their power, 123 ; councils to,
suggested, 123; their privileges, 1V4; Catholic,
refusal to give the Crown a veto upon their
nomination, 224 ; persecuting, 367. ii. 12 ;
their duties not enforced, 2.'i9 ; the law never
suspects, 260 ; their nepotism, 262 ; their in-
justice, 267 ; illustration of their bestowal of
Satronage, 263, 264. 270; their differences in
octrinal requirements 263; their impecca.
bility, 266. 270, 271. 286. 288 ; their inquisitive
practices, 266. 270. 297 ; their promotion, 265;
their power over the clergy, 271, 272. 297, 298;
their taking oaths by proxy, 335 ; ** Their
Saturday Night," 284 ; their repenUnce, 286;
their duty to the Church, 295 : their incomes,
as compared with deans and canons, 300;
Catholic contrasted with Protestant, 339.

Blair, Dr., his merits, i. 5.

Bligh, Governor, his appointment to New South
Wales, i. 266.

Blom field. Bishop. Ste London, Bishop of.

Books, improvement in their publication, i.
228.

Bore, description of the, ii. 88.

boroughmongers, their unfair influence, ii. 216;
their peculiar position, 221. ^

Boroughs, rotten, the alleged cause of our
wealth and power, ii. 209 : plea for compen-
sation on their disfranchisement, 211 ; ob-
jection to them, 217.

Botany Bay, objections to it as a penal settle-
ment, i. 28 ; review of works upon, 260—272.,
ii. 12—24.

Bourbons, a weak race, ii. 202.

Bourne, Mr. Sturges. eulogium on, 1. 296., ii.
154.

Bowdich, Mr., review of his work on Asbantee,
1. 280—285.

Bowles, John, review of his Reflections at the
Conclusion of the War, i. 10—12.

Bradbury, Mr., review of his Travels in Ame-
rica, i. 240—250.

Brahmans, their opposition to the missionaries,
i. 114.

Bravery of medical men, i. 66.

Brawn, proceu of making, i. 136.

Brazil, the birds of, ii. 77-

Brehon law of property in Ireland, 1. 82L

Bristol, sermon preached before the Mayor of,
ii. 242—248 ; ruin and alarm occasioned by
the mob at, 307 ; cathedral of, an instance of
the beneflts of prebendary estates, 376.

British people. See English.

Broadhurst, Thomas, his work on Female Edu-
cation reviewed, i. 175—186.

Brougham, Lord, ii. 217. 281.

Broughton's Letters from a Mahratta Camp
reviewed, i. 225—288.

Brown, Mr. Isaac Hawkins, ii. 147.

Bulls, Irish, review of Edgeworth's Essay on.
f. 69 — ^71 i pleasure arising from, compared
with that arising from wit, 69; one source
of the pleasure experienced from them, 70.

BuonapaJrte, apprehensions entertained of, i. 10.
26 ; his conduct to Madame de Stael, 44 ; his
massacre and poisoning at Jaffa, 64—66 ; his
threats and intentions, ii. 146 ; his toleration,
151. 153: his government, 156. 164.

Bury jail, 1. 335.

Bussy, notice of, i. 38.

Buxton, Mr., his efforts for the improvement of
prisons, ii. 330 ; his book on prisons, 337. note.

C.

Calvinism, supported by the earl}[ reformers,
ii. 5 ; and by the articles of the Irish Church,
a ; does not disqualify for preferment in the
Church of England, 6; neutrality of the
Church on the doctrines of, 8.

Calvinlsts in Denmark, i. 61.

Campanero, account of the, ii. 77.

Canada, its iojudicioas treatment by England,
il. 44.

Canal, Holstein, advantages of, L 68.

Candia, situation of the king of, i. 38. 41.

Canning, George, a frivolous jester, ii. 142.

Cant, Arcadian, described, i. 47.

Canterbury, Archbishop of, his exorbitant in-
come, ii. 257. 323. 290. 300 ; his consecration
oath, 258. 280 ; his practice of option on the
consecration of a bishop, 263: loan for the
improvement of his palace, 271 ; his higli
character, 273 ; his first feelings on the pro-
posed innov4ttion upon cathedrals, 290.

Cape Coast Castle, description of, i. 279.

Capital punishment, necessity of, i. 152.

Capital punishments in Denmark, L l.'i2.

Cashei, Archbishop of, notice of his charge in
favour of the Catholics, ii. 121.

Caste in India, system of, i. 116, 117; conse-
quences of loss of, 107.

Castes, institution of, the curb of ambition, I.
14a

Castlereagh, Lord, i. 3liL

Cathedrals, injustice of conferring the patron-
age of upon bishops, ii. 260. 263. 265. 272. ^.
288 ; benefits of the preferments of, 275—277 ;
management of the estates of, 276 ; four pre-
bends to each insuflBcient, 277. 292 ; folly of
sacrificing the Crown patronage in, ^8;
danger from the committee of, 279 ; oppor-
tunity of improvement opened by the Chap-
ters of, 281; treatment of, by the Commission,
281. 288, 289; clergy of, compared with
parochial clergy, 288.

Catholic Church of Ireland, its revenue, ii.334;
its places of worship contrasted with the
Protestant, 334 ; payment of the priests,
335, 336 ; no chance of its being converted,
336 ; Injustice of its poaition, 337 ; sum re-
quired to pay its priesthood, 338; a state

INDEX.

845

payment to it would b^ the heaviest blow to
agitation, 342.

Catholics, their emancipation, i. 9 ; review of
Pame>rs History of the Penal Laws against
them, 127—131 : Dissenters* opposition to
their emancipation, 207. 224: persecution
how exercised against them, 219 ; unreason-
able apprehensions entertained from their
emancipation, 220. et seq. ; statement of their
disabilities, 305., ii. 169: their proportion
to Protestants, L 306. 306 ; their early mar-
riages, 306; their rooted antipathy to Eng«
land, 308. 310 ; their superstition, 314 ; meri-
torious patronage of, by the Whigs, 315 ;
question of their emancipation will perhaps
be settled by the navies of France and
America, 51 ; never be settled but from fear,
58 ; notice of Archbishop of Cashel's charge
in favour of their claims, 120 j their earnest-
ness in the cause of emancipation, 130 ; their
alliance with the democratic party, 1 27 ; re-
view of Lord Nugent's statement in their
support, 120—128 ; imputation on them by
University of Oxford, 154; their divided
allegiance, 130. 234 ; discrepancies of opinion
in their church, 132 ; small diversity from, in
many Protestant sects, 133 ; advice to, 134 ;
delusions respecting the power and influence
of the Pope over them, 135; their persecu-
tions compared with those of Protestants,
138 ; their alleged want of regard to an oath,
139 ; easy to obtain the nomination of their
dignitaries. 140 ; date of their exclusion fk-om
the Irish House of Commons, 148 ; treatment
of, by Mr. Perceval, 151 ; Catholics not op-
posed to liberty, 155; indulgences granted
them, l.'>7; their iucrease of wealth, 172;
proposal for nayment of their clergy, 173, 174;
no hope for tneir emancipation if the peace of
Europe be restored, 185 ; alleged unchange-
ableness of their religion, 198. «t »eq. ; pro-
gress of arguments used against them, 203.
226 ; oath prescribed to them in 1793, 224 ;
complaints of their importunity, 229. 231 ;
precedents in their favour, 232 ; policy to be
pursued towards them, 233; their intolerance,
234 ; causes of the clamour against them, 235.
See also Emancipation, Catholic.

Catteau, review of his Tableau des Etats Dan-
ois, i. 50. 63.

Caucus in America, i. 239.

Cayenne, the forest of, ii. 78.

Census in Denmark, i. 58.

Ceylon, review of Percivai's account of, i. 37 —
44 ; snakes of, 44 ; leeches of, 44 ; cocoa-nut
trf e of, 44 ; talipot tree of, 44 ; success of the
missionaries in, 117.

Chancery, one of the great uncorrected evils of
the country, i. 243 ; Court of, compared to a
boa constrictor, ii. 80.

Changes, modern. Letter on, Ii. 332.

Character of— Dr. Bell, ii. 98 ; Lord Brougham,
i 247 ; the Archbishop of Canterbury, ii.
273; Lord BIdon, 191 ; Earl Grey, 218. 221 ;
Mr. Grote, 309 ; Lord Hawkesbunr, 149. et
seq. ; Francis Horner, 319 ; the bishop of
London, 297 ; Sir James Mackintosh, ai02 —
305 ; Lord Melbourne, 278. 281 ; Gen. Monk,
306 ; Dr. Parr, i. 4 ; Rt. Hon. Spencer
Perceval, ii. 142: William IV., 212, 222;
Lord John Russell, 286.301; the Bishop of
Gloucester, 295, 296. note.

Character of the flnglish in matters of charity,
i.355.

Charitable institutions, M. Turgot's objections
to, combated,!. 3.

Charles I., conduct of Cromwell to, i. 209 ;
remarks on bis execution, 159.

Chartism, formed by the Poor Laws, i. 205.

Children, natural, in Denmark, 1. 57.

Chimney sweepers, i. 272—279 ; their miseries,
273, 274; their peculiar diseases, 274; their
peculiar dangers, 275 ; their inhuman treat-
ment, 277, 27-8.

Christian Charity, Sermon on the rules of, ii.
8.15.

Christian Observer, reprobation of the, i. 121.

Christianity, the greatest ornament and greatest
blessing, i. 77 ; difficulty attending its pro-
gress in the East, 1U8 ; its introduction into
India, 142.

Chronol(^y among the Greenlanders dated
from their conversion to Christianity, i. 61.

Church of England (the), state of endowment
in, i. 49 ; how ajSected by Lancaster's system
Af education, 75 ; relaxation of its articles. 101;

?rivileges of Dissenters over its members,
01; its income, 122; its di<advantages as
compared with dissent, 203. 206., ii. 257. 293;
hardship and injustice caused by, in Ireland,
178. 186 ; a gregarious profession, 237 ; charity
and wisdom of its policy, 241 ; its neutrality
between Arminians and Calvinists, 242 ; its
pacific spirit, 243 ; right mode of defending it,
193 ; encomium on, ^0 ; improvements in it,
252 ; its respectability preserved by the un-
equal division of its revenues, 2.'^7. 282. 292.
300 ; unjust reasoning of laymen concerning
it, 257. 290 ; evil of extinguishing its Cathe-
dral preferments, 276. 279; its emoluments
open to the lowest ranks, 276 ; Inexpediency
of lessening its power, 279. 290 ; treatment of,
by the Whig government, 284 ; by Lord John
Russell, 286 ; by the public, 289. 301 ; fatal
consequences to, should the government mea-
sures pass into law, 297. 300; its improve-
ment as an institution, 300.

Church establishment, its nature and object
ii. 137 ; real danger to, in Ireland, 140 ; cir-
cumscription of, 275.

Church estal>lishment8, their fatal disease, i.
205.

Church-rates, argument in support of, ii. 54 ;
ministerial error about, 73.

Cingalese, notice of the, i. 40.

Cinnamon wood, remarks on, i. 43.

Civilisation, on what it depends, ii. 43, 44.

Clapham, patent Christians of, li. 147.

Clarence, Duke of, expectations from him, if.
129.

Classical learning, its abuse in England, i. 167.
174.

Classification of patients in lunatic asylums, i.
231 ; of prisoners, 332.

Clergy, English, their want of eloquence, i. 5 ;
parochial, unrepresented in Parliament, 23;
evangelical, notice of, 88 ; their education,
101 ; their subjection to the bishops, 122;
residence of, may be too hardly exacted, 127;
Orthodox, Methodists* war against, 140; in
Ireland allowed to have private prisons, ii.
55; their difficult position, .^7; unfairly
treated by ministers, 209. 271. 281 ; by the
bishops, 271. 272. 281 ; how affected by the
Plurality and Residence Bill, 287. 298 ; by the
Dean and Chapter Bill, 292; picture of a
poor member, 294 ; of cathedrals compared
with parochial clergy, 288; speech at the
meeting of, at Cleveland, 197. 201 ; at Be-
verley, 201. 207; remarks on their political
meetings, 200, 201.

Cleveland, speech at, on the Catholic Question,
ii. 154. 901.

Climate of New South Wales, i. 260.

Climbing-boys, Society for superseding the
Necessity for, its proceedings, i. 272—279.

346

INDEX.

Clive, his genius, i. 37.

Clubs, operation of the ballot in voting at, il.

313.
Coal, want of, in Ireland, i. 315.
Cocoa-nut tree of Ceylon, i. 44.
Coelebs in Search of a Wife, review of, i. 145—

149.
Colling*, Lieut-Col., review of his Account of

New South Wales, i. 26—34.
Colonial secretaries, excuse for their miscon-
duct, i. 2(30.
Colonies, English, folly of keeping np some of

them, i. 289 ; Danish, 60.
Colony of— New Holland, i. 28 — 30; New

South Wales, 26—34., ii. 143; Norfolk Island,

31.33.
Colquhoun, Mr., his Police of the Metropolis,

i. 48. •

Combination, danger of the practice of, i. 133.
Commerce of— America, i. 287 ; Denmark, 60.
Commission, Ecclesiastical. See Ecclesiastical

Commission.
Common informer likened to the honeybird, 1.

44.
Compensation for abolisiiing slavery, ii. 261 4
Concessions, forced, their danger, ii. 132.
Conciliation, tribunal of, in Denmark, i. 55.
Congress, payment to members of, i. 290.
Conquerors, benefits derived from them, i.

286.
Conquest, its advantages to science, i. 39.
Conscience, plea of, in a monarch, ii. 152.
Consolation, political, fallacy of, ii. 68.
Constantinople, custom at, towards fraudulent

bakers, ii. Il4.
Constitution in France, i. 18; in England, 21.

23.
Continent (the), improvement in the prisons of,

i. 361.
Conversation, the pleasures of, i. 183.
Conversion, duty of, in India questionable, i.

118.
Convicts, their morals and condition at Botany

Bay, i. 272, 272 : Rev. Mr. Marsden's bearing

towards them, ii. 16.
Coomassie, description of, i. 96.
Corn, combinations to raise the price of, i. 14.
Com Law Bill of 1825, ii. 207.
Cornwall, Duke of, prayer for, ii. 254.
Coronation oath, its binding nature, ii. 63;

royal scruples upon it, 152.
Corporal punishments in prisons,!. 361.
Corporation and Test Acts, ii. 152 ; their spirit

contrasted with religious toleration in Den-
mark, i. 7.
Costume, unimportance of, in administering

justice, i. 243.
Cotton* spinners, their activity and enterprise,

ii. 203.
Counsel, Lord Lovat's appeal to be allowed,

iL 112; Lord Stafford's conviction from want

of, 119.
Counsel for prisoners, review of Stockton's

work on allowing, ii. 1C6. 119; cruelty of deny-
ing, i. 362—364 ; judges not to be trusted as,

364 ; petition of jurymen for allowing, ii. 106;

authorities in favour of the practice, 110;

probable effect of allowing, 1 16 ; absurdity of

allowing judges as, 110. 113.
Credit, despotism opposed to, i. 26.
Crocodile, Waterton's adventures with a, ii.

83.
Cromwell, his conduct towards Charles I., i.

209 ; his conduct in Ireland, ii. 55.
Cromwell, Henry, his conduct in Ireland, ii.

241.
Cruelty to animals, i. 135.
Curates, their hard position ii. 8, 9. U ; their

helpless situation, 271 ; their expectations,
276 ; how affected by the Plurality and Re-
sidence Bill, 288. 298 ; Salary Bill, review of,
i. 121—127 ; lay curates, )27.

Curwen's Observations on Ireland, i. 304.

Customs, greater expense of collecting in Eng-
land than in America, i. 288 ; dues exacted
on Waterton^s collection, ii. 83.

D.

Danes, their character, i. 62 ; no literati among

thrm, 63 ; robbery of their fleet by England,

ii. 160.
Darwin, Dr., on the law of nature, i. 42.
Davison, Mr., his considerations on the Poor-

Lanrs, i. 300 ; his style, 302.
Death, punishment of, ii. 42.
Debt, Danish, i. 58 ; American, 291.
Delphine, De Stael's review of, i. 44 — 48.
Demerara, animals of, ii. 75 ; Indian tribes in,

75 ; poisons used in, 77.
Denmark, review of Catteau's Tableau of, L

50—63 ; founder of its monarchy, 51 ; Bem-

stoff, its great minister, 51 ; revolution of,

53_56; mildness of its government, 54;

Protestant nunneries in, 54, 55 ; its tribunals

of conciliation, 55; its cheap justice 55;

slavery in, 56 ; its general statistics, 56—59 ;

its religious toleration, 61 ; its colonies, 60 ;

its universities, 61 ; conduct of the EngUsh

Government in taking the fleet of. 319.
D'Epinay, Madame, review of her Memoires et

Correspondance, i. 234—239.
Derwent, description of its port, L 260.
Despotism opposed to credit. L 26.
De Staei, Madame. See Stael, Madame de.
Diderot, his dislike of Rosseau, i. 237.
Diet of prisoners, i. 332. 360.
Dinner, a triumph of civilised life, i. 272.
Discipline of prisons may be over estimated, ii.

40.
Discourses on Various Subjects, by Dr. Rennel,

review of, i. 6. 9.
Discovery, who entitled to the merit of, ii. 318.
Discretionary power in the administration of

laws, arguments against, i. 48*
Disfranchisement of the Irish voters, ii. 211 ;

of rotten boroughs, 212 ; right of, must reside

somewhere, 21 1 .
Dissent, disadvantages of the Church compared

with, i. 121. 203. 206.
Dissent and Methodism, review of Mr. Ingram's

book on the Causes of their Increase, i. 87*-

lOi.
Dissenters, their privileges over members of

the Church, i. 121 ; charges of Jacobinism

against, 68 ; exploded clamours against, 88 ;

Lord Sidmouth's intentions towards, 201'-

205 ; their treatment, ii. 43. 150. 152L 177 ;

dangers from, to the Church, 2()6 ; their coo'

duct in reference to the Catholic claims, 124 i

style of preaching among, 124 ; their ioex-

pensiveness to the state, 11£9 ; wide difference

of their opinions, 130. 132.
Dissenters' Marriage Bill, opposition to, ii. 43.
Dissenting ministers, want of wealth amoog,

ii. 129.
Distilleries in America, i. 288; prohibited in

New South Wales, 268 ; their value in Nev

South Wales, ii. 253.
Distrust, political fallacy of, ii. 67.
Disturbances at Madras, i. 192—201.
Dordrecht, anecdote of the conduct of the

clergy at, ii. 268.
Dotation of women in New Soath Wales, it

263.

INDEX.

347

Djyle, Dr., the Pope of Ireland, ii. 131.

I>ress, common error about female, i. 148.

Dublin, Whitelaw'g History of, U 304.

Duelling, a civilised institution among a bar-
barous people, i. 30.

Duncan, Mr. John, review of his Travels in
the United States, ii. 42. 51.

Dundas, the tyrant of Scotland, IL 319.

Dupleix, notice of, i. 38.

Dutchman, Ceylonese, his character, i. 39.

Duties levied in New South Wales, i. 267.

E.

Ecclesiastical Commission, its constitution, ii.
2.5.^. 261. 265. 269. 281. 291; has done too
much, 256. 259. 263. 273. 275. 295: encourages
the enemies of the Church, 257. 269. 272.
284 ; its iove of patronage, 259 ; its injustice,
259. 262. 264. 265. 267. 272, 274. 281. 291 ;
omission in its report of the options of the
sees of Canterbury and York, 263 ; its fre-
quent changes of policy, 267 ; how it has been
worked. 281 ; rapidity of its proceedings, 268;
its original plan of taxation, 281 ; its injustice
to St. Paul's, 267, 268. 299; its confiscations,
illustration of, in the proceedings of the
clergy at Dordrecht, 268 ; treatment of by
Lord J. Russell, 283. 299.
Economy, American, an object for our imita-
tion, ii. 43.

Edgeworth, on Bulls, reriew of, i. 69—71 ; on
Professional Education, review of, 166 — 174.

Edmonton, history of the ecclesiastical division
of, 266. 294.

Education, review of Mrs. Trimmer's book on
Lancaster's plan of, i. 75 — 80.

Education, defects in, i. 6; Professional, re-
view of Edgeworth's work on, 166—174 ; Fe-
male, review of Broadhurst's work on, 174—
185; system of, in public schools, 186—191;
use of ridicule in, 78 ; of the clergy, 101 ; of
the poor, 101 : too much Latin and Greek in,
167—173 ; defective system of, at the English
universities, 172:— 174; Hamlltonian system
of, ii. 317 ; combined with that of Lancaster,
320; unnecessary difficulties created in, 321,
322; foolish saying of Dr. Bell upon, 321 ;
the anomaly in, as regards religion, 147 ; of
the people, duty of, 250 ; attention to, in
America, 46.

Egede, John, a Norwegian priest, converts the
Greenlanders to Christianity, i. 61.

Eldon, Lord, his character, ii. 217.*

Elections, political, modes of, i. 18—20 ; dis-
gusting scenes at, ii. 215. 219.

Ellzabein, Queen, her conduct towards Ireland,
i. 83 ; statute of, relating to the poor, 303 ;
persecutions tnr, il. 237.

Eloquence, neglect of, in British education,
1.6.

Emancipation, Catholic, bigotry of the English
in reference to it, I. 83 ; once deemed hope-
less, 128 ; relaxation In seeking it not justi-
fiable, I2ri; madness of opposing it, 80. 83,
84. 131 ; review of the question, ii. 120. 134 ;
roust bie ultimately carried, 121 . 229 ; view
history will take oi the question, 123; speech
at Cleveland on, I97'-201 ; letter to the
electors on, 223. 241 ; its probable effect, 175.
See also Catholics.

Emigration to Botany Bay, advantages offered
for, i. 272 ; to America, '^50.

EmuUtion, absurdity of banishing it from
schools, ii. 321.

Emu, description of, 1. 260.

Eucomium on— the Church of England, ii. 230;

the Whigs, 207 ; Charles James Fox, i. 149 ;
Hope's Anastasius, 317. 322 ; Sir James
Scarlett, 353 ; the Society for Improving
Prison Discipline', 353. 361 ; Sir Robert Peel,
ii. 106 ; Mr. Stur^s Bourne, 154 ; Earl Grey,
220; Lord John Russell, 301.

Encyclopedists, M. Fievee's charge of Anglo-
mania against them, i. 37.

Endowment, state of, in the English Church, I.
49.

England, the condition of Ireland a reproach
to her, i. 304., ii. 52 ; likened to Turkey, 316 ;
uncertain basis of her prosperity, ii. 123 ; ex-
travagance of her government, 123; her in-
consistent humanity, 126; democratic party
in, 127; her danger from Irish disconten*,
I^ ; her state previous to the Reform Bill,
217 ; considers poverty infamous, 258 ; has
made an enormous revolution within ten
years, 310 ; wants a little breathing time, 311;
equal division of parties in, 307 ; happiness
enjoyed in, 318: oanger of anarchy in, 318 ;
enyy and ill-wilt of the Americans on account
of her superior civilization, 329 ; her past in-
justice towards Ireland, 335 ; the best statutes
for her have been made since the Union,
336.

English, their prejudices, i. 6; their reserve, 35;
"M, Fievie's charges against them, 36 ; their
character in matters of charity, 121 ; their
character, 176., ii. 210; improvement among,
215: their love of labour, 97; their conduct
during the revolutionary war, 143, 144; their
unacquaintance with war, 153 ; their feel-
ings towards Dissenters, 164 ; their bigotry
towards the Irish, 15. 167; their excessive
loyalty towards the king, 176 ; their preju-
dices regarding Catholics, 181 ; their ex-
cellent but misdirected spirit, 182 ; causes of
their stability, 188, 189.

English Church. See Church of England and
Ecclesiastical Commission.

Epinay, Madame d*, review of her Memoires et
Correspondance, i. 234. 239.

Episcopacy .exclusion of, from the Upper House,
i. 23.

** Erin go bragh ! " suggestion for a better an-
them, ii. 335.

Establishments, i. 205.

Eulogomania of Dr. Parr, i. 4.

Evangelical Clergy, notice of, i. 88.

Evangelicals, their proceedings in the East, 1.
113 ; their anticipated proceedings, ii. 298.

Execution of— Strafford, i* 159; Charles I.,
160; Lewis XVI., 160.

Exercise, athletic, in public schools, its unim-
portance, i. 187.

Expenditure in the United States, i. 290 ; evil
effectsof alarge, 291.

F.

Fagging, system of, i. 186, 187.

Fairs, their effect in filling prisons, i. 3C6.

Fallacies, review of Beutham's Book of, ii. £9
-74.

Fallacy of— self-trumpeting, ii.65 ; imputations
as an answer to expedient measures, 66 ; po-
litical distrust, 67 ; the cry against innovation,
67 ; political consolaticn, 68; the argument
of Procrastinator,69; the quietist, 69 ; gene-
ralities in political argument, 70 ; the impu-
tation of theory, 71.

False quantities, i. 46.

Fanaticism, its cause in all ages, i. 99 ; mis*
taken for religion, ii. 252.

348

INDEX

Fanatics, right way of dealing with thetn, ii.
340.

Farmeri, nnjutt charges upon them, L 14; how
afffcted by the ganne laws, i. 253.

Frar, dtflV>rence between personal and political,
ii. 211.214.

Fearon, Mr., review of his Journey in America,
i. 240. 250.

Female dre^s, common error about, i. 1. 48.

Female Education, review of Broadhurst's
work on, i. 174— 1 8.*).

Ferocity, the natural weapon of the common
people, i. 329.

Fiction, danger of Tarnishing characters in
worI{8 of, i. 47.

Fievge, J., review of his Lettres sur I'Angle-
terre, L 34—37 ; his approach to peisimisra,
36 ; his charges against the English. 36 ; his
charge of Anglomania against the Encyclo-
pedists, 37.

Finance, Necker's Observations on, reviewed,
1. 26. See also Taxes.

Fishery, pearl, account of, i. 42.

Foolahs, progress among, i. 73.

Foolometer, use of a, ii. 285.

Fops, clerical, illustration of, i. 9.

Forests of Cayenne, ii. 78.

Fox, Charles James, review of Dr. Parr's
" Characters" of, I. 149. 163; review of his
historical work, 154 — 166; review of Hey-
wood's Vindication of his History, 207—218;
anecdote of, ii. 285.

Fragment on the Irish Roman Catholic Church,
ii. 333. 342.

France, versatility of public opinion in, i. 24 ;
its power, 17; price of revolutionary lands in,
24 ; its difficulties, 25 : apprehensions of its
power, ii. 136. 140. 143, 144. 151. 153.157.
160.

French aristocracy, its probable restoration, i.
24.

French revolution emulates the English revo-
lution, i. 160.

Fry, Mrs., and her friends, exaggeration of
their efforts, i. 355. 367., ii. 21.

Furniture, tax on, in America, I 288.

G.

Galileo, his saying ou the loss of bis sight, ii.
.321.

namble's Travels in Ireland, i. 304.

Game, Mr. Bankes's Act against buying, ii. 28 ;
sale of, i. 252. 255—259; advantages of legal-
ising the sale of, ii. 31, 32.

Game Laws, i. 250. 259; review of the Hon.
and Rev. W. Herbert's Letter on, if. 2ft ;
their scandal and disgrace, i. 354., ii. 1.5. 32 ;
their amendment recommended, i. 322 ; fu-
tility of severe laws against them, 322. 330.
345 — 348 ; review of report of the House of
Commons on, 348., ii. 42 ; one fourth of com-
mitments, for offences against them, 30 ; ab-
sence of, in America, 44 ; reform of, 78 ;
cruelties of, 217.

Gaming, extract from Dr. RennePs Sermon on,
i. 6.

Gazi Hassan, notice of, i. 68.

Genealogy of nations, embarrassing circum-
stances in the speculations, concerning it, i.
30.

Generalities, fallacy of dealing in, in political
argument, ii. 70.

George HI., protects Joseph Lancaster against
the Church, i. 75. note.

George IV., his speech to the Hanoverians, ii.
207.

Ghosts, belief in, has left the drawing-room for
the kitchen, ii. 123.

Gibraltar, a useless and extravagant possession,
i. 289.

Glor/, consequences of the national love of, L
291.

Gloucester, Bishop of, his attack on the author,
ii. 295 ; his character, 296.

Government, rights of, i. 11; no other ulti-
matum in, than perfect justice, 128; what the
first object should be, ii. 30 ; constitutional,
65 ; absolute, 68 ; kiugly, origin of, 79 ; has
nothing to do with theological errors, 136;
cannot be carried on without patronage, 278 ;
its conduct to the Church, 278 ; English, its
extreme timidity and consequent violence, i.
239 ; its extravagance, ii. 123 ; its cheapness
in America, i. 241 : its mildness in Denmark,
64.

Governments, efltets of the moral sense on, i.
11.

Godly and ungodly, dangerous division of man-
kmd into, i. 101.

Godwin, Mr., his principle of universal bene-
volence, i. 3 ; refuted by Malthus, 8.

Grammar should be taught after some know-
ledge of a language is obtained, ii. 105.

Granby, review of, li. 84 — 92.

Grand Vizier, instances of his ignorance, i. 68.

Grattan, his character, i. 316 ; his sense and
moderation, ii. 230; his want of habits of
business, 303.

Greatness of mind, common notion of, i. 47.

Greek, importance attached to, in English edu-
cation, i. 170. See also Latin.

Green General Duff, reply to his letter to the
Morning Chronicle, ii. 330.

Greenland, its inhabitants converted to Chris-
tianity by John Bgede, a Norwegian priest, i.
61 ; its chronology dated from its conversion
to Christianity, 61.

Grey, Earl, his character, ii. 218—221.

Grote, Mr., his dagger ballot-box, ii. 305 ; its
effect if adopted, 308. 317 ; his character and
political conduct, 309 ; his expectation of the
effect of the ballot upon landlords, 311.

Guiana, trees of, ii. 74.

Guldberg, Ove, notice of, i. 51.

Gunpowder Plot, sermon on the anniversary of^
ii. 242>-249.

Gurney, Mr., on Prisons, i. 336.

H.

Habeas Corpus Act, its suspension, i. 239.

Habits of the — honeybird, i. 44 ; musk-rat, 44 ;
kangaroo, 261 ; ornithorhynchus, 261 ; the
snake, ii. 77. 82 ; the campanero, 77 ; the tou-
can, 78 ; the sloth, 79; the ant-bear, 79 ; the
vampire, 80 ; the tortoise, 80; the vulture,
79.82.

Hall, Lieut., review of his TraTels in America,
i. 239— 2^0.

Hamilton's method of teaching languages, ii.
317— 327 ; its errors, 321 ; testimony to its
efficiency, 325.

Hanging, curious circumstnnce relating to the
punishment of, i. 57.

Hanoverians, speech of George IV. -to the, iL
207.

Harmonites in America, ii. 51.

Hatchard, Mr., persons meeting at his shcqs, t.
186.

Hawkeshury, Lord, his character, ii. 148. 156.
161.171.

Hayti, boast of the Emperor of, regarding
punishment, ii. 7.

INDEX.

349

H«>adlam, John, review of his Letter on

Prison £.abour, ii. 35 — 41. 45.
Heathen » societies for converting the, i. 106.
Heligoland, notice of, i. 62.
Helots, the Irish Catholics treated as, 1. 304.
Henry VIII., persecutions by, ii. 237.
Herl>ert, Hon. and Rev. William, review of his

IJetcer on the Game Laws, ii. 25.
Heresy, treatment of, i. 202.
Heretics, Arians burnt as, in 1612, i. 215.
Herrnhuters, or Northern Quakers, i. 61.
Heroism of Dr. Witiman, i. 66.
Hey wood. Samuel, review of his Vindication of

Fox's History, i. 207—218.
Hindoo faith, the Mussulmans of India not

converts from it, i. 1 17.
Hindoos, anecdote of their feelings relative
to caste, i. 117; their religion, 117—119;
their persecution by Tippoo, 144.
Historical Apology for the Irish Catholics,

Parneirs review of, i. 80—84.
Hodgson, Adam, review of his Letters from

"North America, ii. 42—52.
Holford, George, review of his work on Prisons

i. 337.
Holstein, exportation of horses from, i. 61 ; its

8oi\, S3 ; canal, advantages of its, 60.
Homer, morality of, i. 8.
Honey bird, its habits, 1. 44 ; common informer

lilcened to, 44.
Hope, Mr., euloglum on his Anastaslus, L 316.

322.
Horner Francis, bis character, ii. 318 — 321.
Homer Leonard, Letter to, ii. 318.
Horses, exportation of, from Hoistein, i. 51.
House of Commons, expectations from, when

reformed, ii. 211.
House of Lords, suggestions regarding it, i. 23 ;

Itlienedto Mrs. Partington, ii. 214.
Human Nature, experimenc tipon it in New

South Wales, I. 28.
Humane Society, review of Dr. Langford's

Anniversary Sermon for it, i. 12.
Humanity, on the ridicule cast upon, i. 278; its

operation,^ under the Poor Laws, 299.
Hume, David, anecdote of, at Paris, i. 238.
Hume, Sir P., review of Lady Murray's Narra-
tive of the Adventures of, i. 154 — 166.
Hungary, parallel with Ireland, 11. 177.
Hunting description of, i. 135.
HusUsson, Mr., ii. 170.

I.

India, our empire in, i. 37 ; missions In, 102 —
121 ; consequences of the loss of caste in, 107 ;
difRculty attending the progress of Chris-
tianity in, 108; proceedings of the evan-
gelical party in, 114; Mahometans of, not
converts from Hindooism, 117 ; duty of con-
version in, questionable, 117 — 119: intro-
duction of Christianity into, 142 ; difference
of officers serving in, from those on European
service, 192.

Impropriators, lay, i. 125.

Imputations, fallacy of, as an answer to expe-
dient measures, ii. 66.

Infonners, odious nature of their trade, i. 131 ;
deterred by public indignation, ii. 30.

Ingram, Mr., review of his Causes of the In-
crease of Methodism and Dissent,!. 87 — 102.

Innovation, source of the dislike of, i. 331 ;
fallacy of the cry against, ii. 67.

Insanity caused by Methodism, i. 99 ; Quaker
treatment of it, 228—234 ; no dependence on
medicine for its cure, 232 ; curious case of,
233.

Insects the curse of tropical climates, ii. 81.

Inspectors of prisons, i. 338.

Institutions, good, are indispensable, ii. 65 ;
must be defensible, 222 ; number marked for
destruction in 1837, 279 ; much easier to des«
troy when associated with mean ideas, 285.

Instruction, religious, in early life should be
confined to general principles, i. 79.

Interference of Providence, instances of, cited
by Methodists, i. 89. et seq.

Intimidation of tenants by their landlords, and
of shopkeepers by their customers, ii. 174;
not confined to the aristocracy, 307 ; ballot
would afford no protection against it, 312.

Intolerance, its lasting spirit, i. 203 ; Metho-
dists* complaint of, 303.

Inundation in Denmark, i. 53.

Ireland, her conduct in the American war, ii.
141. 230 ; our proper policy towards her, 145;
her forfeited lands, 146 ; danger of tyrannis-
ing over her, 147. 202; opposition to tiie
Union in, 149 ; nearly lost during the Ameri-
can war, 149 ; conduct of England towards,
150; anticipated conduct of France towards
her, 157 ; a mill-stone ahout the neck of
England, 159 ; concealment of arms in, 163 ;
probable invasion of, 163; exploits of the
invading force in 1796, 164 ; her statistics,
166 ; practicHl evils in, 170; parallel with
Hungary, 177; premium offered to invade
her, 202 ; payment of the clergy in, 205. 228 ;
fruits of English government m, 206 ; antici-
pated effects of emancipation in, 206 ; Inqui-
sition never existed in, 226 ; review of Par-
nell's Survey of the History of, i. 80 — 84;
never subdued till the reign of Elizabeth, 83 ;
conduct of Elizabeth towards, 83; Brehon
law of property in, 82 ; review of the state of,
304»-316; remedies for, 315; operation of
tithes in, 306, 307 ; tithes must be relaxed in,
ii. 151. 174 ; Gamble's Travels in, 171 ; foil-
and rapacity of the landlords of, 182 ; bigotry
and party spirit of the Protestants of, 176 ;
absenteeism in, 180 ; middlemen the standing
grievance of, 181. 186; injustice of the En-
glish Church in, 178. 184. 187 ; poUtoes one
cause of her wretched condition, 184 ; misgo-
vemment of, 176. 185; difficulty of executing
the laws in, 104; want of coal in, 185;
picture of ploughing in, 185 ; her demoralised
peasantry, 200 ; baseness of her treatment by
England, 283 ; expenses of the wars in, 286 ;
Catholic disabilities in, 286; Protestant
Church in, 288 ; CromwelVs conduct in, 286 ;
natives of, in America, 308 ; quiet of, under
Queen Anne, 130 ; Dr. Doyle the Pope of,
131 ; power of the priests in, 134. 136 ; power
of the government to obtain the nomination
of the Catholic dignitaries in, 140; Orange-
men of, 147. 168 ; disfranchisement of voters
in, 211 ; prevented only by Grattan from sepa-
rating from England, 230; increase in her
wealth and power, 233 ; forfeited estates in,
234 ; conduct of Henry Cromwell in, 241 ; in-
justice to her in the present state of the Ca-
tholic Church, 337.

Irish in America, ii . 83^

Irreligion, stigma of the charge of, 1. 78.

J.

Jacobinism condemned, i. 1 1 ; charged against
Dissenters, 188 ; detestable, ii. 176.

Jaffa, massacre and poisoning at, i. 64, 65.

James II., Fox's view of his conduct in regard
to the Catholic religion, i. 213— 215 ; con-

350

INDEX.

troversy between Mr. Fox and Mr. Rote re-
specting his conduct, 163.

Janissaries, ttieir original constitution, 1. 67.

Jephsou, Mr. and Mrs., mention of, 1. 234.
note.

Jersey, reason why smuggling could not be
suppressed in, ii. 219.

Jews prohibited from entering Norway,!. 61.
note i equality of their treatment in America,
ii 43.

Johnson's Shooter's Guide, i. 322.

Joinville, Prince, ii. 337.

Judges, their removability under Charles I.
and II., i. 162 ; policy of the law towards, as
compared with bishops, Ii. 260 ; idiosyncra-
sies of, 117; differences among, 1 18 ; inade-
quate number or, 118: that smite comrarv
to law, 183 — 189 ; jealousy with which
juries should watch them, i. 239 ; not to be
trusted as counsel for prisoners, 363 ; absur-
dity of considering tnem as counsel for
prisoners, ii. 110. 114.

Juries, jealousy with which they should watch
judges, i. 239.

Jurisprudence of a country not to be learned
merely by perusing its statutes, i. 89.

Juryman, obstinacy in a, ii. 209.

Justice, importance of the tribunal of, ii. 185 —
189 ; how be«t promoted, 192 ; value of the
impression of, i. 256 ; its cheapness in Den-
mark, i. 65 ; in America, ii. 48.

Justices. See Magistrates.

Jutland, description of, i. 52.

K.

Kangaroo, described, i. 261.
'* Kimes," Mr. Styles's blunder about, 1. 141.
King, his supremacy merely nominal, i. 260.
Knowledge, importance communicated to old

age by, i. 184 ; its alleged disadvantages in

women, 177 — 185.
Knox, Robert, his account of Ceylon, i. 38.

L.

Labour, objections to a fixed rate of, i. 82, 33 ;
compulsory, of prisoners before trial, ii. 32 ;
rates of, in New South Wales, i. 266.

Lancaster, Joseph, review of Mrs. Trimmer's
book on his New Plan of Education, i. 75 —
80; protected by George III. against the
Church, 75 ; rewards and punishments in his
institution, 78; order displayed in his school
astonishing, 79 ; his system may be combined
with that of Hamilton, ii. 96.

Land, property of every man in the game upon
his. {. 252.

Landlords Irish, their folly and rapadtjjr, i. 311.

Langford, Dr., review of his Anniversary
Sermon for the Humane Society, 1. 12.

Laplanders, remark on their condition, L 63.

Latin and Greek, too much of them in English
education, i. 167 — 173 ; Hamilton's method
of teaching, ii. 92—106.

LafT, want of reform in its processes, i. 243.

Lawrence, General, notice of, i. 38.

Laws, on the promulgation of, i. 153; obso-
leteness of many, ii. 124 ; their proper exe-
cution must depend upon public opinion, 106;
difficulties of obtaining any improvement in
them, 109 ; boasted lenity of the English, i.
362 — 364 ; their operation in civil cases, 243;
their caprice in disallowing counsel to pri-
soners, 244 ; fallacy of declaring them irre-
vocable, ii. 62 ; their continuity by oath, 63,

64 ; folly of holding any to be unalterable,
148 ; great improvement in the English. 207;
requisites for making those of England de-
serving the eulogium they obtain, 119 ; diffi-
cult execution of, in Ireland, i. 313 ; for the
preservation of game, not favourable to the
morals of the poor, 252.

Lawyer that tempted Christ, ii. 189 — 196.

Learning, classical, its abuse in England, ii.
87—45.

Leeches of Ceylon, i. 44.

Legislation, incadtious, since the pasring of the
Reform Bill, i. 300. note.

Letters to the Electors on the Catholic Ques-
tion, ii. 223—241.

Letters on the Catholics by Peter Plymley, ii.
1 35 — 183 ; on the Ecclesiastical Commission,
254 — 297; on American Debts. 325—332;
on ** Locking in upon Railway*," 321.

Lettres sur I'Angleterre, review of M. Fievee's,
i. 34-.37.

Lewis, Matthew, review of hia tragedy of
Alfonso, i. 15.

Lewis XIV., anecdote of, i. 69.

Lewis XVI., on the execution of, i. 160 ; Fox's
declarations on the execution of, 209, 21 Ol

Liberty and licentiousness of the press, ii. 70.

Licenses for watches in America, i. 288;
number that would be required in England,
289.

Limerick, treaty of,i. 129 ; violated, ii. 125.

Lincoln, Bishop of, review of the charge de-
livered by (1812), i. 219 — 224 ; his pamphlet
on the church question, ii. 281. 285.

Linnaeus, his secret of infecting oysters, i. 42.

Lister, Mr., review of hia novel of Granby, iL
84.

Literature, advantages to women of cultivating,
i. 177—185 : among the Americans. 247.

London, Bishop of, his government, ii. 266.
286; his injustice to the Chapter of St.
Paul's, 267. 273 ; his power with the Ecclesi-
astical Commission, 269. 296 : his sharp say-
ings, 279 ; his industry, 270 ; his real motives
and wishes, 276 ; his large income, 296 ; his
charge: his JEschylus, 296; his character,
303.

Longevity of the Norwegians, i. 59.

Lords, House of. See Huuse of Lords,

Lotteries in pearl oysters, i. 42.

Lovat, Lord, his appeal to be allowed counsel,
ii.Il2.

Lunatic asylums, improved method in their
management, i. 22H ^ classification of Uieir
patients, 231 ; how managed by the Society
of Friends, 233.

Lynch-law, excuse for it, ii. 48.

Lyndhurst, Lord, ii. 281.

M.

Macdowal, General, his treatment and character,
i. 123 — 201.

Mackintosh, Sir James, his panegyric on
Charles James Fox, i. 149; letter on his cha-
racter, ii. 302—305.

Macquarrie, Governor, charges against, ii. 12,
13. 24.

Mad Quakers, i. 228 — 233.

Madras, review of Narrative of the Distur.
bances at, i. 191 — 201.

Magistrates, large powers entrusted to them
under the Poor Laws, I. 300; their power to
order relief under the Poor Laws should be
abolished, 300.

Mahometans in India, not converts from Hin-
dooism,i. 117.

INDEX.

351

l^fahratta Camp, Letters from a, 1. 225 — 228,

Mahrattas, devastation caused by, i. 226 ; their
barbarous justice, 227 ; anecdote of a female
soldier of, 227.

Malays, their character, i. 39.

Maltlius, Mr., tribute to his memory, i. 8. note.

Mammon, its effect upon religion, ii. 258.

Manners, French, sketch of, i. 234.

Maaufactures of— America, i. 240 ; Ashantee,
284 ; Australia, i. 31 ; Denmark, 60.

Map of England, ecclesiastical, i. 133.

Margarf>t, founder of the monarchy of Den-
mark, i. 51.

Marriage iii Denmark, i. 57.

Marriage Bill, opposition to the Dissenters*, ii.
43.

Marsden. Rev. Mr., ii. 14 ; his bearing towards
convicts, 16.

Marsh, Bishop. See Peterborough, Bishop of.

Martineau, Miss, allusion, to, i. 180.

Mary, Queen, her persecutions, ii. 237.

MHssacre at Jaffa, evidence of, examined, i. 64,
65.

Medical men, their courage, 1. 66.

Melbourne, Viscount, his character, ii. 278.

Metayers in Denmark, i. 56.

Methodism drives many to insanity,!. 99; re-
view of Mr. Ingram's book on the Causes of
the Increase of, 87—101 ; review of Mr. Styles's
defence of, 138—146.

Methodistical reasoning on the interference of
Providence, 1. 89. 101.

Methodists, terms by which they designate
themselves, i. 93 ; their influence and activity,
95; magnitude of their collections, 95 ; their
missionaries, 96 ; party for them in the House
of Commons and the India House, 97 ; prose,
lytism their great object, 97 ; their objections
to amusements, 98 ; their difference from the
Established Church, 99 ; their religious lan-
guage, 99 ; their doctrine of theocracy, 99 ;
proofs of miracles claimed by them, 89—101 ;
their perversion of miracles, 144 ; their war
against the orthodox clergy, 140; their com-
plaint of intolerance, 143 ; their pillage of the
earnings of the poor, 140.

Metropolis, Police of the, reference to, i. 48.

Middlemen, the standing grievance of Ireland,
i. 309, 310. 314.

Milbank Penitentiary, i. 337.

Ministers, their duty towards an obstinate
monarch, ii. 151.

Minorities almost always in the right, i. 360.

Miracles, Improper reasoning upon them, i.
14 ; proofs of, claimed by the Methodists, 89—
101 ; Methodists' perversion of them, 144.

Misanthropy, warning against, ii. 194.

Misgovemment of Ireland, i. 304. 313.

Mission to the Ashantees, i. 280.

Missionaries, opposed by the Brahmans, 1. 114;
in Ceylon, their success, 117.

Missionary proceedings in Bengal, i. 106 — 120.

Missionary Society, its missions, i. 104 — 114.

Missions among the Methodists, i. 96 ; in India,
102-120.

Modem Changes, Letter on, ii. 332.

Modern sermons, their character, i. 6.

Monarch, an obstinate, duty of ministers to-
wards, ii. 151.

Monk, Bishop. See Gloucester, Bishop of.

Monk, Gen., nis conduct at the Restoration, i.
161 ; his character, 210. 212.

Moore, Thomas, review of his Memoirs of Cap-
tain Rock, ii. 52—52.

Moral sense, 'its effects on governments, i. II.

More, Mrs. Hannah, review of her work on
Coelebs in search of a Wife, i. 146—149.

Motives of Men, how influenced, i. 223,

Munro, Colonel, his condact at Madras, L 192

—201.
Murray, Lady, review of her Narrative of the

Adventures of Sir P. Hume, i. 165. 166.
Murray, C. K., his letter to the ** Times," ii.

281.
Musk-rat, account or the, i. 44.
Mussulmans of India not converts from the

Hind«o faith, i. 117.
Mutiny at Vellore, i. 102 ; at Nundydrook, 102.

N.

Napoleon. See Buonaparte.

Nares, Archdeacon, review of his Sermon of
Thanksgiving for Plenty, and warning against
Avarice, i. 13—15.

National funds, project for supporting the poor
from, i. 293.

Natural children in Denmark, i. 57.

Nature, Darwin's Law of. i. 42.

Necker, M., review of his Derni^res Vues de
Politique et de Finance, i. 17—26 ; his plan
of a Republic, 21.

Nelson, Lord, notice of Dr. Rennel's Sermon
on his Victory, i. 8.

New Holland, pamphlet hj the Hon. Grey
Bennet upon, i. 270 ; anticipations of, as a
colony, 28; paucity of numbers in, 29.

New South Wales, review of Collins's Account
of, i. 26—34 ; experiment upon human nature
in, 29 ; its climate, 260; its projtress, 261 ; its
schools and public lands, 263; courtly appel-
lations given to new discoveries in, 265;
diminution of its resources by subordinate
settlements, 266 ; ignorance and tyranny of
its governors, 266 ; sale of spirits in, 267 ; its
import and export duties, 268; its restric-
tions on navigation, 269; its cost as a school
for criminals, 270; no dread inspired by it,
270; profligacy of its morals, 271 ; advantages
of emigrating thither, 271 ; Went worth's De-
scription of, reviewed, 260—271 ; Bennet's
account of the colonies in, 270, 271 ; O'Hara's
History of, 272; Mr. Bigge's Report on the
Colony of, il. 12—24 ; vajue of distilleries in,
21 ; trial by jury, unfitted for, 24.

New York, its increase, i. 240.

Nicol, Mr., on the Poor-Laws, review of, i.
293.

Nobility — of Denmark, classes of, i. 54; of
Norway, 55 ; of Holstein, 55.

Non-residence of clergy, i. 49.

Noodle's Oration, ii. 72.

Norfolk Island, its condition, i. 31. 33.

North America, review of Hodgson's Letters
from, ii 42—52.

Norway, description of, i. 53—62 ; its nobility,
55 ; Jews prohibited from entering it, 61.
note,

Norwegians, their longevity, 69.

Nugent, Lord, review of his Statement in sup-
port of the Catholic claims, il 120—128.

Nundydroog, mutiny at,i. 102.

Nunneries, ProtestaJit, in Denmark, i. 54, 55«

O.

Oath, continuity of laws by, ii.63; coronation,
its binding nature, 64 ; scruples to Catholic
emancipation on account of it, 64; royal
scruples upon it, i. 152.

Obstinacv in a juryman, illustration of, ii. 209.

O'Connell, Daniel, ii. 231. 237; his conduct
about Repeal, 334 ; his trial and release, 334 ;
much virtue and good meaning in him, 335 ;

352

INDEX.

appeal to him, 335 ; hi« readiness to provoke

a national war, 336.
Old Mge, not a good plea f r poor-law relief, I.

aOf) ; importance communicated to it by know.

ledge, 184.
Opinlou, public, its powers, L 54 ; its versatility

in France, 24; execution of laws must in

great measure depend upon it, ii. 107.
Options, property in, hela by the Archbishop

of Canterbury, ii. 263.
Orangemen in Ireland, it. 147 } their position,

I Sri.
Ordeal, trial by, among native Africans, L

74.
Order displaved in Lancaster's schools, i. 79.
Ordination, Bishop Marsh's questions to candi-
dates, ii. 2 ; recommendations of Archbishop

Wake regarding, 6; Lambeth Articles of

Archbishop Laud upon, 5.
Omithorhynchus, description of, i. 261.
Orthodoxy, sacrifices to the genius of, ii. 3 ;

inconveniences of different standards of, 3.
Overseers, office of, i. 299.
Owen, Rev. Mr., quotation from, on reducing

Providence to an alternative, i. 120.
Oxford Universicy, Dr. Parr's defence of, i. 4 ;

its imputation against the Catholics, ii. 155.
0>ster8, Linnseus's secret of infecting, 1. 42;

pearl, account of, 42 ; lotteries in, 42.

P.

Palestine, Travels from, review of, i. 85—87.

Palmer, Mr., review of the Travels ot, in Ame.
rica, i. 239—250.

Panegyrics, review of, on C. J. Fox, 1. 154—
166.

Paper money in Denmark, i. 58.

Papists, their treatment in Ireland, i. 305., ii.
.')7, 58; their disabilities, i. 305.

Parliament, clergy unrepresented in, i. 231 ; a
colonial, 269.

Parnei, Henry, review of his History of the
Penal Laws against the Irish Catholics, i.
127—131.

Parnell, William, review of his Historical
Apology for the Irish Catholics, i. 80—84.

Parr, Dr., review of bis Spital Sermon, i. I — 5 ;
his learning and character, 4^ reason of the
neglect of, 5 ; his eulogomania, 4 ; his pane-
gyric on Fox, 149 ; review of his *' Cha-
racters " of Fox, 149-153.

Partington, Mrs., illustrative of the Lords*
attempt to stop the Reform Bill, ii. 214.

Patronage, government cannot be carried on
without it, ii. 277.

Paul, St., his answer to Felix, i. 128.

Peace Societies deserving every encouragement,
i. 228.

Pearl fishery, account of it, i. 42.

Peasantry of Ireland, demoralised, L 329.

Peel, Sir R., encomium on, ii. 105 ; approval of
his course against O'Connell, 334; must
attempt the payment of the Catholic priests,
338.

Peers, House of, suggestions regarding it, ii. 23.

Penal laws against the Catholics, i. 129, 130.

Pennsylvania, her refusal to pay her debts, ii.
326; no conduct ever more profligate than
hers, 327; her debt and finances. 328 ; posi-
tion abroad of her citizens, 329 ; final appeal
to her, 330 : reply to excuses, for her non-
payment, 332.

Penny-post scheme nonsensical, ii. 207.

I*t)rceval, Rt. Hon. Spencer, review of a letter
to, on the Curates^ Salary Bill, 1. 121—127 ;

his zeal for the Protestant interest, ii. 135;
his fears, 140; his character, 142; his govern-
ment, 143.

Perciva*, Robert, review of his Account of
Ceylon, i. 37—44.

Persecuting Bishops, ii. 1—12.

Persecution, nature of, Ii. 141 ; by Henry VIII.,
Mary, and Elizabeth, 237; how exercised
against the Catholics, i. 220 ^ of Catholic* by
ProtesUnts. ii. 23«, 2.39.

Pessimism, Fievee's approach to, i. 36.

Peter Plym ley's Letters, ii. 135—183.

Peterborough, Bishop of, his Ordination Ques-
tions, ii. 2 ; his good intentions, 2 ; Incon-
veniences of his adopting a different sUndard
from other bishops, 2 ; danger to the Church
of his proceedings, 3 ; Mr. Thurteil's letter co
him, 4 ; his unequal bearing upon curates and
upon rectors, 6 ; his boast of the paucity of
the curates he had excluded, 7 ; his style, 7 ;
his complaints, 11 ; his indiscretion, 11.

Potion, M., his knowledge of our law, i. 35.

Petition —in favour of the Catholics, ii. 201 ;
to Congress, 198.

Petrie, Wm., review of his Statement of Facts
delivered to Lord Minto, 1. 191—201.

Philadelphia, its progress, i. 240.

Phillips, Richard, review of his Public Cha-
racters (1801, 1802), i. 13.

Philopatris Varvicensis, review of bis work on
C. J. Fox, i. 149—154.

Piety, what idnd of, the world bates, i. 141.

Pilgrims, conduct of the Saracens to them, i.
85.

Pitt, Mr., defect in his administration, i. 26.

Plague, description of the, i. 319 ; its symptoms
and cure, 66 ; curious fact regarding it, 66.

Plays, defence of, i. 147.

Ploughing, picture of, in Ireland, i. 313.

Ploughman, description of a, i. 302. 313.

Plurality and Residence Bill, il. 287. et seq.

Poaching, i. 255—259 ; remarks on the punish-
ment of, 325. 329.

Poets, the greatest, not educated at public
schools, i 188 ; bounty of nature in the sup-

• ply of, 225.

Poisoning at Jaffa, evidence of, examined, L
66.

Police of the Metropolis, Mr. Colquhoun's, i.
48.

Poor (the), education of, L 101; interference
with their amusements, 136. 140; what re-
spect due to, 140 ; their unequal treatment
for damages to property, 93 ; project of sap-
porting them from the national funds, 293 ;
overseers of, 293 ; merit as a test of relief to,
293; project for separating their children,
293; their resort to alehouses, 293: their
treatment in removals under the law of
settlement, 299; relief of, 299; description
of the agricultural, 302 ; stupid character of
writings intended for them, 359.

Poor Law Bill of Sir J. Scarlett reviewed, i.
348—3^3.

Poor- Law relief, old age not a good plea for,
i. 30O.

Poor- Laws (the), i. 293-304 ; the nucleus of
Chartism, 296 ; Mr. Davison's Considerations
on them, 300 ; freedom Arom, in America, ii.
45 ; increase of population under the old, 293.
295; review of Mr. Nicol on, 293; en-
courage beggary, 349; absurd projects for
amending them, 293; their extension to per-
sonal property, 293 ; Mr. Nicol's objections
to them, 2^3 ; their ultimate but very gradual
abolition, 295; law expenses of, 188; true
reason for abolishing, 304 ; amendment of,
348 ; maximum rate of, 348 } cannot be abo-

INDEX.

353

lished in lets than two centuries, 352 ; their
great evils, 353.

Poor-rate, Mr. Davison's plan for its limita-
tion, i. 300 ; the fixing of a maximum of, 348 ;
litigation arising oat of, 350; its gradual
extinction, 3A2.

Pope (the), delusion respecting his power
and inQuence, il. 135; his alleged right to
interfere in temporal concerns, 139; his
power to dethrone kings denied, ii. 95;
terror of, 179 ; no law to prevent our enter-
ing into diplomatic engagements with him,
538.

Pope of Ireland, Dr. Doyle the, 1. 259.

Population, its increase under erroneous ad-
ministration of Poor- Laws, i. 293. 295 ^ excess
of, 302 ; of Australia, 31 ; of Amerira, 240.
246 1 of Ashantee, 283 ; of Denmark, 58.

Population tumours, i. 297.

Port Jackson described, i. 260.

Portuguese in India, their character, i. 273.

Post-office of the United States, L 288 ; of
England, 29a

Potatoes one cause of the wretched condition
of Ireland, i. 111.

Poverty, infamous in England, ii. 258.

Power, tendency of those entrusted with, i.
292.

Prayer on the birth of the Duke of Cornwall,
ii. 254.

Prebendaries, how they should have been re-
formed, ii. 266; new ones created, 259. 284.
300 ; patronage belonging to, should be com.
pensated for, 262 ; distinction between resi-
dent and non-resident, 275, 276, 277; manage-
ment of their estates, 276. 284 ; considered in
a politico-economical view, 275. 284. 292; no
public feeling calling for their destruction,
277 ; their incomes, 300.

Presentations can be sold by laymen or by
ecclesiastical corporations, 264.

Preserving of game, i. 253.

Press (the), its liberty and licentiousness, ii.
70; its power would be lessened by the
reform or parliament, 219.

Priests, Catholic, in Ireland, their dependence
on their flocks, i. 306.

Prison Discipline, Society for its Improvement,
i. 353. 361 ., ii. 21 ; may be over estimated, 40 ;
note on Mr. Roscoe's opinions on. 41, 42.

Prison labour, review of Mr. Heaalam's work
on, ii. 34—41.

Prisons, Buxton's efforts for their improve-
ment, i. 330 ; his book on this subject, 337 ;
review of Mr. Holford's work on, 337 ; Mr.
Gurney on, 336 ; review of Mr. Western's
work on, 356—365; the small number of
recommitments to, no test of amelioration,
354 ; principal objects of, 354 ; solitary con-
finement in them, 356; too great lindul-
gence in them, 356 ; what life in them should
be, 358; diet in them, 332. 360; corporal
punishment in, 361 ; improvement in, on the
Continent, 361 ; persons detained in, after
acquittal, 364 ; the greatest improvement in
them would be a jail delivery four times a

{rear, 365; private, ii. 55; their state in Eng-
and, 330—340.
Prisoners, treatment of, before and after trial,
331 ; their classification, 332 ; their solitary
confinement, 332. 356} gradatiqns of their
punishment, 334; their reformation, 334;
their earnings, 335 ; comforts allowed to
them, 836 ; female, 338 ; injustice of prevent-
ing their defence by counsel, 339 ; charitable
aid to them for expenses of procuring their
witnesses, 339 ; their cruel treatment before
trial, ii. 32 ; cruelty and tyranny involved in

VOL. I2»

their labour, 38. 45; cruelty and absurdity of
denying them counsel, 43 — 46; should be
liberated immediately after acquittal, i. 3Cl ;
not to be treated before trial as paupers, 3 35 ;
prevalent feeling concerning them, ii. 41 ;
petition from jurymen for allowing counsel
to them, 106; obstacles to their obtaining
evidence in defence, 107 ; often convicted
when innocent, 108. 122; authorities for al-
lowing counsel to them when accusei of
felony, 109 ; plan for giving them an option
of having counsel, 118. .

Proclamation rehitive to the mutiny at Vellore,
1.102.

Procrastinator, fallacy of his argtiment, ii. 69.

Property, rights of, when abused, ii. 305 ; per-
sonal, proposed to be subjected to poor-
rates, I. 293 ; of every man in the game upon
his land, 252.

Proselytism the great object of t le Methodists,

Protestant Church benefited by C itholic e nan-
cipation, ii. 177. 227. 230 ; upon what security
founded, i. 222.

Protestant nunneries in Denmark, i. 54.

Protestants in Ireland, their bigotry and party
spirit, i. 304 ; their proportion to the Ca-
tholics, 305, 306.

Providence, Archdeacon Nares's erroneous rea-
soning on, i. 14 ; the notion of its immediate
interference natural, 74 ; Methodistical rea-
soning on its interference, 88—101 ; char^fed
by the Rev. Mr. Owen with being reduced to
an alternative, 123 ; on the special interfer-
ence of, 140.

Public Characters of 1801, 1802, review of Phil-
lips's book on the, 1. 13.

Public opinion. See Opinion.

Public principle, importance of, i. 190, 191.

Public schools. See Schools.

Pulpit eloquence, remarks on, i. 5.

Punishment, the philosophy of, L 325. 329 ; its

Sradations, 334; its first object, 334. 339; its
uration should be lessened and severity in-
creased, 339; its proper maximum, ii. 29;
capital, 42; boast of the Emperor of Havti
on, 7.
Punishments, tyrannical, for infringement of

the game laws, i. 259.
Purra Society in Africa, i. 35.

Q.

Quakers in Denmark, i. 61; review of Tuke's
Description of an Institution for Insane, 228
—234.

Qualifications for shooting game, thsir aboli-
tion recommended, i. 252—254.

Quantities, false, i. 280.

Queen, Sermon on the Duties of the, ii. 24' —
253; anticipated happiness of her reijn, 2 3;
scene at her coronation, 279.

Quietist, his fallacy, ii. 69.

R.

Radicals, their admission of the lawful influ-
ence of wealth and power, ii. 307 ; the two
varieties of them, 307 ; their advocacy of the
ballot, 310—316; their desire for universal
suffVage, 315.

Railways, Letters on " locking in " upon, ii. 321.

Randolph, John, his opinion of the ballot, ii. 314.

Rapp, founder of the Harmonites, ii. 51.

R ite, labour. See Labour-rale.

Rate, poor. See Poor-rate.
A A

35i

INDEX.

Rectorf , faicomec of, i. Ii4.

Redesdale, Lord, hU mittaket about the Catbo-
Ito, ii. 180.

Refinement amooff barbaroui tribes, i. 73.

Reform of the Church, absolutely neoessary,
ii. 256 ; should be accompanied by compeusa-
tion for existing interests, %1 ; terror it had
inspired, 2M. 2(». S73. S75. 877. 294 ; might
have been eflTeeted in a less reroiutionary
manned, 273. 987. 298; unwise course of the
radicals resarding it, 277. 279; declaration of
Viscount Melbourne upon, 277: opportunity
for, through the Cathedral Chapters, 231;
government plan of, 283.

Reform in the processes of law,, i. 24IL

Reform of the game laws, ii. 79.

Reform, parliamentary, speech upon, at Taun-
ton, ii. 207; sabsequent note upon, 208; con-
sidered the cure of every eru, 210 ; would
destroy the trade of agitation, 210 ; would
leaeen the power of the press, 219 ; danger of
delaying it, 213, 214. 219: impossibility of
ultimately defeating it, 214, 215. 228; prece-
dents for it, 215 ; practical improvements
anticipated from it, 218; foolish expectations
entertained from it, 228.

Reform Bill, state of England previous to it,
ii. 216; Mrs. Partington illvstrative of the
Lords' attempt to stop it, 214 ; not final, but
should allow time for breathing after it, 310 ;
rapid and incautious legislation since the
passing of it, i. 800. note.

Reformation, the Protestant, ii. 215. 242.

Regicides, rrench and English, contrasted, i.
161.

" Regulators," described, ii. 48.

Religion, the first scaffolding of, i. 77; senti-
ment of, has always a tendency to moderation,
88; of the Hindoos, 1)8; familiarity on the
subjects of, 148 ; effect of Mammon on, 606.
639 ; in America, 247.

Religious toleration in Denmark, i. 61 .

Removals, hardship of, under the Settlement
Laws, i. 299.

Rennel, Dr., review of his Discourses on
Various Subjects, L 5>~I0 ; faults of, 8 ; allu-
sion to, 9. 13.

Rent, wheu too high, the ruin of the land and
the tenant, i. 309, 310.

Repeal, civil war would be preferable to it, ii.
334, 335.

Republic, review of M. Necker's plan of a, i. 2) ;
unsuited for France, 24.

Residence of the dergy, review of Dr. Sturge's
Thoughts on, i. 48 — 50 ; may be too hardly
exacted, 127 ; of the aristocracy on their
estates, ii. 28.

Restoration, conduct of Monk at the, L 161.

Retribution, arguments for a future state of, i.
98.

Revenue of Denmark ; of the United States, i.
288.

Reviews, one great use of, ii. 59.

Revolution, French, i. 8; Danish, 63—56;
French, emulates the English, 160; created
by the Ecclesiastical Commission, IL 256 ; of
1688, 215.

Rewards and punishments In Lancaster's in-
stitution, i. 78.

Rich, their amusements, i. 252—255.

Ridicule, use of the fear of, in education, i. 78;
use of, as a weapon excusable, 139.

Rock, Captain, Memoirs of, reviewed, il. 52—59.

Roman Catholics. See Catholics.

Roscoe, Mr., note on his opinions on prison
discipline, ii. 42.

Rose, Rt. Hon. George, review of his observa-
tions on the historloal work of C. J. Fox, i.

154^166; hii aaimadTenkms on it, 207 —
218.

Roundsman, description of a, 809.

Rousseau, Jean JaoQues, anecdotes of, i. S37.

Russell, Lord John, Letter to, ii. 297—901 ; his
complaint against the Chapters, 272; bis oou-
duct towards cathedral property, 876 ; the
Lycurgus of the Lower House, 278 ; his im-
portance in the administration, 281 ; his con-
duct towards the Ecclesiastical Commission,
283. 286; his character, 286. 301; hislanfiuage
on the ballot, 314: unjust opinion held of
him, 815; his line oi duty clearly marked out,
815.

Russia, Emperor of, Madame de StaePs com-
pliment to, ii. 65.

Russian ambassador, anecdote of the, ii. 171.

S.

SaadI, the Persian poet, ii. 248.

Sacrifices to the Genius of Orthodoxy, ii 3;
human, in Ashantee, 283.

Sale of game, i. 252. 255—259.

Salic law, note on, i. 23.

Sand, plants which grow in, i. 52.

Saracens, their conduct to pilgrims, L 85.

Saturday Night, the Bishops', iL 88*.

Savage life, evils of, i. 27.

Scarlett, Sir James, review of his Foor-law
Bill, i. 348—353; encomium on, 353.

Schoolmasters, being ministers, should be ex-
empt from residence, i. 50.

Schools, public, sjstem of education in, i. 186
-^191 ; no cure for the insolence of the youth-
ful aristocracy, 186; unimportance of athletic
exercises in, 187 : the most eminent men iu
science, the arts, literature, or belies lettres,
have not been educated at, 188 ; not &vour-
able to the cultivation of knowledge, 190;
morality at, 190 ; in New South Wales, 862.

Scindia, character of, L 225.

Scotland, conduct and example of, ii. 148.

Scott, Sir William, his speech on the non-
residence of clergy, i. 49.

Secretary, Colonial, excuse for his misconduct,
i.860.

Sect, impossible to arrive at a knowledge of a,
through merely their articles of belief i. 88.

Self-trumpeting, fallacy of^ ii. 65.

Sermons, modem characteristics of, i. 5 ;
preached at Bristol, ii. 842 — 248; at St.
Paul's, 249—253; before the Judges at York,
184—189. 191—196.

Serpent, anecdote of a, i. 44.

Settlement, law of, i. 348 ; its evils, 296 ; an
inexhaustible source of litigation, i^; hard-
ship of removals of it, 299.

Sevbert's work on America, review of, i. 286—
290.

Shooter's Guide, by Johnson, i. 383.

Shopkeepers, combinations against them by
their customers on account of political opi-
nions, ii. 805. 312 ; greater hardship which
they would endure, if suspected, under the
ballot system. 313.

Sidmouth, Lord, his proceedings ia. regard to
the Toleration Act, i. 201—207.

Sierra Leone, review of Dr. Winterbottom's
Account of, i. 71—75.

Singleton, Archdeacon, letters to, ii. 25.'i.

Slavery, in Denmark, i. 56 ; compensation for
abolishing, 11. 861 ; in America, i. 848, 249.
ii. 52 ; in Ashantee, 282.

Slaves, their increase in the United States, 1.
248, 249; their proportion to the free, 293.

Slave trade (the), the foulest Uot in the

i

INDEX.

855

morality of Europe, I. 60; the Danes the
6r8t to abolish it, 60; in Aihantee, 40.

Sleswick, nature of its soil, i. S3; its nobility, 55.

Sloth, habits of the, ii. 79.

Smith, Rev. Sydney, his promotion in the
Church, il 873. 296; his political career, S74;
his treatment by the ^hlgs, 274; attacked
bv the Bishop of Gloucester, 295; his reviews,
295; his consistency, 300; his last as well as
earliest efforts exerted for the promotion of
religions freedom, 334.
« Smuggling, i. 258; in Jersey, reason why It was
so long in being put down, ii. 219.

Snakes, of Ceylon, i. 44; habits of, ii. 78. SOi

Society — for the improvement of Prison Dis-
ciphne, encomium on, i. 353. 361; for super-
seding the necessity of Climbing Boys, its
proceedings, 279^--279; for the Suppression of
Vice, ii.l43; its proceedings, i. 181—138.

Societies— for Converting the Heathen, i. 104;
Peace, deserving encouragement, 228.

Solitary confinement, L 332—366.

Somerville, Mrs., allusion to, i. 180.

Sooth America, review of Waterton*s Wander-
ings in, ii. 74—84.

Sovereigns, power of the Pope to dethrone,
denied, i. 224.

Speeches ii. 197—222.

Spirits, sale'of, in New South Wales, i. 267, 268;
duty on, in America, 288.

Spital Sermon, review ot Dr. Parr's, i. 1. 6.

Spring-guns, illegality of their use argued, i.
322—330. 840-$48.

Stael, Madame de, review of her Delphine, i.
44—48; Napoleon's treatment of her, 44; her
description of Talleyrand, 46; her compli-
ment to the Emperor of Russia, ii. 65.

Stafford, Lord, his conviction, ii. 119.

Statistical annals of the United SUtes, by Sey-
bert, i. 286—290.

Stockton, review of his work on allowing
Counsel for Prisoners, ii. 106.

Strafford, Lord, on the execution of, i. 159.

Struensee, notice of, 1. 51.

Sturges, Dr., review of his work on the Resi-
dence of the Clergy, i. 48—50:

Styles, Mr., review of his work in defence of
Methodism, 1. 138—146.

Suffering not a merit of Itself, i. 142.

Suffirage, universal. See Universal Suffrage.

Sunday, its observance not to be effected by
main force, L 134.

Supremacy of the king, a mere name, it. 132;
oath of, dispensed with, 177.

Surprise the essence of wit, i, 70.

Surveys, elaborate, their importance, 1. 63.

Sweden, notice of, i. 5*.

Sydney. New South Wales, i. 262; oversight hi
the building of, 266 ;, folly of ornamental
architecture in, ii. 12.

T.

Tabernacle *(the). Its relation to the Chnrcb,

i. 100.
Tableau des Etats Danois, by Catteau, review

of, 1. 50—63.
Talipot tree of Ceylon, i. 44.
TaUerrand, Madame de Stall's description of,

i. 4o.
Taunton, speech at, on the Reform Bill, IL 207.
Taxation in New South Wales, 1. 268.
Taxes, freedom from, in America, ii. 49; on

furniture in America, i. 288; enumeration of,

in Bngland, 291.
Taylor, Jeremv, his eloquence, i. ft.
Tenants, dismissal of, on account of their votes

at elections, ti. 305; their general Indifference
to politics, 806, 307; ballot would be no pro-
tection to them against an oppress! v;e landlord,
311 ; their rc|}ection for their opinions, 307.
313.

Thanksgiving Sermon of Archdeacon Nares,
review of, i. 13—15:

Theocracy, doctrine of, among the Methodists,
i.97.

Theological errors not cognisable by Govern-
ment, ii. 136.

Theory, fallacy of the imputation of, ii. 71.

Thurtell, Mr., his letter to the Bbhop of Peter-
borough, ii. 4.

Tithes, their operation in Ireland, i. 306, 307{
must he relaxed in Ireland, ii. 151. 173.

Titles, love of the Americans for, i 244.

Tippoo, his religious persecution of the Hin.
ooos, i. 144.

" Times,** letter to the Editor of the, ii. 281.

Toleration, religious, i. 201, 202; ii. 167; secu-
rity afforded to the Church by, 328; in
America, 43; in Denmark, i. 61.

Tomlin, Bishop. See Lincoln, Bishop of.

Tortoise, habits of the, ii. 80.

Torture, the application of, L 217.

Tory Lords, appeal to them, ii. 122; their ex-
cuses, 122.

Toucan, account of the, ii.78.

Transportation, objections to, i. 27, 28; cruelty
and neglect in the first conduct of. 270; in-
justice towards persons sentenced to, for
limited periods, 271 ; difference of offences
under, ii. 14; scanty limits allowed to convicts
during, 21; its enormous expense when efi*
ciently conducted, 24.

TravBl, value of books of, i. 34.

Travellers, faults of, i. 35.

Travels in Turkey, Asia Minor, Syria, and
Egypt, by Dr. Wittman, review of, i. 64—68;
of Bertrandon de la Brocquidre, review of,
85 — 87; of Waterton in South America, re-
view of, ii. 74—84.

Tread-mill, irksome and disgusting labour of
it, ii. 35; its consequences as a punishment,
37; its expensiveness, 40.

Treaty of Limerick, i. 129; violation of it, ii.
126.

Trial by jury in New South Wales, i. 269; un.
fitted for that colony, ii. 23.

Tribunals of Conciliation in Denmark, i. 55.

Trimmer, Mrs^ review of her book on Lan-
caster's new Flan of Education, i. 75—80.

Tropical climates, insects the great curse in,
ii. 81.

Trust, all government is a, Ii. 267.

Tuke, Samuel, review of his work on the
Treatment of the Insane, i. 228 — ^234.

Turgot, M., his objections to all charitable in-
stitutions combated, i. 8.

Turkey, Dr. Wittman's Travels in, i. 64—68;

. Janissaries of, 67; indiscipline of Its army,
67; reforms in, 68; its Grand Visier, 68; con-
dition of, 316; custom in, towards fraudulent
bakers, ii. 114.

Turkish camp, horrors of, i. 66 ; contrast of,
in 1800 and in the 16th century, 67.

Turks (the) represented by Bertrandon as a
gay laughing people, L 87.

U.

Ultimatum, no other in government than per-
fect justice, i. 138.

Union with Ireland, opposition to, ii. 149.

Unitarians, no expense to the state, il. 1^; their
opinions, 130.

356 '

IKDEX.

Unhrersal benerolence, a principle of ethics,
i.3.

Uiiivernal suflVage the ineritable coiu4>quence
<f( the ballot, ii. 316; great ^/ad dangerous
changes it would introduce, 818; its inex-
pediency, 318.

Universities of Copenhagen, 1. 62; their repu-
tation always shortlired, 62 ; English, defec-
tive system of education at, 172 — 174.

Universkv of Oxford, Dr. Parr's defence of,
L 4; its unputation on the Irish Catholics, 49.

V.

Vampires, habits of, L 80.

Van Diemen's Land, its settlement, i. 266.

VeUore, insurrection at, i. 102: .

Veterinary Schools, established in Denmark

earlier than in Great Britain, i. &9.
Vice, true way of attacking it, i. 184 ; Society

for the Suppression of. 131—138 ; ii. 143.
Vindication of Fox's History, review of Serj.

Heywood's. 1. 207—218.
Voltaire, account of, i. 238.
Voting. See Ballot.

W.

Wallace. Mr., ii. 288.

Wanderings in South America, &c., by Water-
ton, review of, ii 74 — 84.

War, picture of its horrors, i. 228; Englishmen
who in modern times have evinced a genius
for it, 188 ; almost as natural to mankind as
peace, ii. 127. 203. 233; iu effects on American
commerce, i. 287 — 291.

Warburton, Mr., ii. 207, note.

Watches, licences for using, in America, i. 288;
number that would be required in England.

Waterton, Chas., review of his Wanderings in
South America, ii. 74—84^ his style, 75; his
frontispiece picture, 79; his feats^ 81, 82; his
adventures with a crocodile, 82; customs'
dues exacted on his CoUectioo, 63.

Wellington, Duke of, ii. 281 ; his sagadty in
choosing a good position, 318.

Wesley, John, his conduct, 1. 100. ^

Western, Mr., review of his work on Trisons
i. 3^—365.

" What shall I do to inherit elern^ life ?" ii.
191-196. ^

Whigs, merit due to them for the patronage
bestowed on Catholics, ii. 187; encomium on
them, 207; their faults, 206; their measures,
274.

Whitelaw's History of Dublin, i. 304.

Whitfield, notice of, i. lOO.

Wilberforce, Mr., head of the patent Christians
ofClapham,iLM6Ll79.

Went worth's Description of New South Wales,
review of, i. 260-:27S.

William IV. saved England from a revolution,
ii. 206. 218; his honourable conduct, 21 2. 222;
his popularity, 221; sermon on his deatli,249.

Winds (the), the unsubsidised allies of Eng-
land, ii. 149. 157. 164.

Winterbottom, Dr., reriew of his Account of
Sierra Leone, i. 75.

" Wisdom of our ancestors,** mischievousness
of the cry, ii. 60; much of it mere jealousy
and envy, 156 ; the usual topic in defending
the folly of their descendants, i. 84.

Wit, the pleasure arising from, compared with
that arising from bulls, i. 69 ; surprise tlie
essence of, 70; impaired or destroyed wlien
mingled with much thought or passion, 71.

Witchcraft in Ashantee, i. 282.

Wittman, Dr., review of his travels, i. 64^-69;
his heroism, 66.

Women, alleged disadvantages of knowledge in,
i. 176, 177 ; may be trained to reason and
imagine as well as men, 183; their education
very defective, 176 — Ig.'i ; dotation of. In
New South Wales, 29 ; French, their love of
intrigue. 234.

WorhL proper method of preparing the young
for it. 1.98.

Wouraii'polion, ii. 76.

y.

Yeomanry, folly of putting .them down, it- 2^*
'■note.
York, sermons preached at, ii. 184—196.

TUB END.

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