Sir, if any page in the history of the late congress be blacker than another, it is that which records the deeds of the noble lord against Genoa. When I approach this subject, and reflect on the powerful oratory, the force of argument as well as of language, backed by the high authority of virtue, a sanction ever deeply felt in this house, once displayed in the cause of that ill-fated republic, by tongues now silent, but which used to be ever eloquent where public justice was to be asserted, or useful truth fearlessly inculcated, I feel hardly capable of going on. My lasting sorrow for the loss we have sustained is made deeper by the regret, that those lamented friends live not to witness the punishment of that foul conduct which they solemnly denounced. The petty tyrant, to whom the noble lord delivered over that ancient and gallant people, almost as soon as they had at his call joined the standard of national independence, has since subjected them to the most rigorous provisions of his absurd code; a code directed especially against the commerce of this country, and actually less unfavourable to France.

Thus, then, it appears that, after all, in public as well as in private, in state affairs as in the concerns of the most humble individuals, the old maxim cannot safely be forgotten, that "honesty is the best policy." In vain did the noble lord flatter himself, that his subserviency to that unrighteous system of the congress would secure him the adherence of the courts whom he made his idols. If he had abandoned that false, foreign system-if he had acted upon the principles of the nation whom he represented, and stood forward as the advocate of the rights of the people-the people would have been grateful. He preferred the interests and the wishes of the courts; and by the courts he is treated with their wonted neglect.

SECTION LXXXVI.

ERIBERT-ANSELMO.....Mrs. Hemans.

Anselmo. WILL you not hear me?-Oh! that they who need

Hourly forgiveness-they who do but live,
While mercy's voice, beyond th' eternal stars,
Wins the great judge to listen, should be thus,

In their vain exercise of pageant power,
Hard and relentless!-Gentle brother, yet,
'Tis in your choice to imitate that heaven
Whose noblest joy is pardon.

Eribert.

'Tis too late.

You have a soft and moving voice, which pleads

With eloquent melody-but they must die.

Ansel. What, die !-for words?—for breath, which leaves no trace

To sully the pure air, wherewith it blends,

deem

And is, being utter'd, gone ?-Why, 'twere enough
For such a venial fault, to be deprived
One little day of man's free heritage,
Heaven's warm and sunny light!-Oh! if
That evil harbours in their souls, at least
Delay the stroke, till guilt, made manifest,
Shall bid stern justice wake.

Eri.

I am not one

you

Of those weak spirits, that timorously keep watch
For fair occasions, thence to borrow hues

Of virtue for their deeds. My school hath been

Where power sits crown'd and arm'd. And, mark me, brother!

To a distrustful nature it might seem

Strange, that your lips thus earnestly should plead

For these Sicilian rebels. O'er my being

Suspicion holds no power. And yet take note.
-I have said—and they must die.

Ansel.

Have you no fear?

No!-but that earth

Eri. Of what ?-that heaven should fall?
Ansel.
Should arm in madness. Brother! I have seen
Dark eyes bent on you, e'en 'midst festal throngs,
With such deep hatred settled in their glance,
My heart hath died within me.

Το

Eri.

Am I then

pause, and doubt, and shrink, because a boy, A dreaming boy, hath trembled at a look ?

Ansel. Oh! looks are no illusions, when the soul,
Which may not speak in words, can find no way
But theirs, to liberty!-Have not these men

Brave sons, or noble brothers?

Eri.

Yes! whose name

It rests with me to make a word of fear,

A sound forbidden 'midst the haunts of men,

Ansel. But not forgotten!-Ah! beware, beware!
-Nay, look not sternly on me.
There is one

Of that devoted band, who yet will need
Years to be ripe for death. He is a youth,
A very boy, on whose unshaded cheek

The spring-time glow is lingering. 'Twas but now
His mother left me, with a timid hope

Just dawning in her breast;—and I—I dared
To foster its faint spark. You smile!-Oh! then
He will be saved!

Eri.

Nay, I but smiled to think What a fond fool is hope!-She may be taught To deem that the great sun will change his course To work her pleasure; or the tomb give back Its inmates to her arms. In sooth, 'tis strange ! Yet with your pitying heart, you should not thus Have mock'd the boy's sad mother-I have said, You should not thus have mock'd her!-Now, farewell. [Exit Eribert. Ansel. Oh, brother! hard of heart!-for deeds like these There must be fearful chastening, if on high Justice doth hold her state. And I must tell Yon desolate mother that her fair young son Is thus to perish!-Haply the dread tale May slay her too ;-for heaven is merciful. -Twill be a bitter task!

SECTION LXXXVII.

'EXTRACT FROM MR. NORTH'S SPEECH ON THE CATHOLIC

QUESTION, 1828.

THE honourable member began by stating, that this measure of government was insufficient, as not creating complete and unexceptionable securities for preserving the established church from those ulterior assaults with which it was threatened. Allow me to say, that the honourable member has not put the argument with that fairness which candid discussion demands, and which ought always to govern the deliberations of parliament. The question is, not whether we have obtained any new securities by means of this measure, but whether we have parted with any securities which we formerly possessed. I trust it will not

be imagined, that I am lukewarm in my attachment to the established church. I do not yield to any man in zeal for the established church, and least of all would I yield to any man in zeal for the prosperity and integrity of that portion of it which is established in Ireland. I am attached to it and to its members by the warmest feelings of our nature, by the earliest emotions that animate my breast, by close friendship, by gratitude, and by cordial affection. If I believed that, in making these concessions, we were parting with any real existing security, I would sooner part with my right hand than give my support to any such measure. But can I believe that that which in Ireland is treated as the cause of undeserved humiliation on the one hand, and of unworthy superiority on the other, could not long exist in a state of security? Can I believe that it is for the advantage of the established church, that it should be regarded as the cold, dark, and chilling obstacle which interposed between the people and the beams of royal favour, which crosses every man in the road of industry and of honour-which is regarded as forming an insurmountable barrier to the advancement of every class among the Roman Catholicswhich says to them, "You shall be excluded from the common blessings of society, you shall not be partakers of the common prosperity of that country whose common burthens you bear. Is there not then, an inconceivable increase of security given to the established church, by throwing down those barriers which have so long stood in the way of the Catholics, and pronouncing that the reformed church shall no longer be an object of popular detestation, hatred, hostility, and envy? Does it not impart security to the established church, to give content to those classes who feel religion as a necessity of their nature? Does it not

give security to that establishment to inspire feelings of mutual confidence and regard, among all classes of his majesty's subjects, be their religious persuasion what it may?

The present state of Ireland, I can speak from my own actual observation, conduces to very different feelings and principles. It plucks out the heart of religion, which is charity; it sets man against man; it puts a canker into every heart; and, if it be long-continued, it will, I fear, put a dagger into every hand. Gracious God! is it for the interests of religion and of that church which professes to be united in its spirit and feeling with religion, that men of high rank among the clergy should descend from their

pulpits, and mixing with the multitude, occupy the time that ought to be devoted to the sacred duties of their profession, in inflaming the angry passions of the people, and familiarizing their minds with the horrors of a civil war? Is conduct such as this sanctioned by the tenets of the christian religion, or necessary for maintaining the established church in Ireland? Can I believe that the tenets of that church are only to be maintained at the expense of public tranquillity? I may be allowed, as a native of that country, and after surveying the conduct of its people for a series of years, to say, without any feeling of prejudice, and with no feelings, I believe, of partiality-and certain 1 am, that if any partiality does belong to my feelings and affections, it is for my Protestant rather than for my Roman Catholic countrymen-to tell the honourable gentleman, that it is not possible, if the situation of Ireland remains such as it has been for the last twenty years, that it can be compatible with the tranquillity of the people; and I will tell the honourable gentleman further, that I believe firmly that if any people on the face of the globe could have been governed as Ireland has been, they would be as much dissatisfied as the Irish themselves.

SECTION LXXXVIII.

EXTRACT FROM THE SAME.

LET me, sir, offer a few words of consolation to the honourable gentleman as to the result of this question. Sir, I will ask any Irish gentleman, where Protestant ascendency, about which they talk so much, has been to be found for the last fifteen years. Let them ask the merchant whether it is to be found on the exchange-let them ask the lawyer whether it is to be found in the four courts-let them ask the country gentleman whether it is to be found on the hustings? I answer for them-no. The Protestant ascendency, which those Protestant gentlemen worship so devoutly, is, in fact, a visionary being-without substance, impalpable, and of no account: it is like the ghost of one long since in the grave; or if it does exist, it exists only to distract the judgment, to deceive the heart, and to confound the imagination. But this is not all; along with it the

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