they ought not to be? We, sir, by our new system. was to yield benefits of the first mag nitude; it was to extinguish party spirit, and fill Ireland with harmony. We put forth these predictions with our wonted confidence-we proclaimed that they could not be falsified we eulogized ourselves, as statesmen incapable of error-and we cast on all who ventured to differ from us every odious name and imputation. What, sir, has this new system produced? I ask not in the name of this party, or that I speak not for Orange man, or member of O'Connell's Order of Liberators-but I put the question in the name of the British empire. It has produced a specimen of misgovernment wholly without example-a hideous series of growing evils, having the most destructive effects on the present, and ensuring a future of calamity and horrors. Speak of destroying party! Ireland in comparison never knew what party was, until it was compelled to swallow our nostrum for its destruction. Speak of creating peace and harmony !-Ireland was comparatively a stranger to discord and convulsion, until it was scourged by our system for terminating them. If, sir, Ireland had been studiously governed on the principle of reversing every maxim of common sense, filling it with flame and strife, overthrowing the Church, and severing every bond that binds it to England; it would have been governed precisely as it has been. If Ireland had been studiously governed on the principle of strength ening Catholicism to the utmost, not in it only, but in England; and of enabling the Catholic Church to do the most deadly injuries to the Established Church and Protestantism in England; it would have been governed precisely as it has been. Ireland for several years has been governed as the most bitter enemies of England and Ireland-as the most bitter enemies of the British empire-would have governed it. We have, sir, destroyed one party, but it has unhappily been that which bound Ireland to England-we have terminated party strife, but we have unhappily done this only to involve Ireland in hostility with all the best interests of the empire. Who have enabled the Catholics to become what they are, in power and outrage-in crime and danger-in every thing that The Catholics in Ireland now form a party which has its separate Parlia ment-levies taxes-tramples on the laws-arrays the tenant against the landlord-prohibits the Catholic from dealing with the Protestant-monopolizes the elective franchise-does every thing in its power for the overthrow of the Established Church-and calls for the repeal of the Union. They now form a party which is lawlesswhich fills Ireland with rage, convul sion and disaffection-and which terrifies both the Irish government, and the British one, into dastardly inac tion and submission. This, sir, is the offspring of our attempts to annihilate party. Predictions! we have drawn, upon ourselves the mockery of the world by our predictions. If we have a single shred of character left, in the name of that shred, let us never utter another. Concession and conciliation!!! to save ourselves from the most bitter derision that ever visited the errors of man, let us expunge the words from our language for ever. Here are what are called the Catholic Association, and the Order of Liberators, levying taxes through the priesthood, which are expended in feeding the flame of convulsion and disaffection, doing every possible injury to Protestantism and the Church, and getting up war and separation between Britain and Ireland. The truth of this is notorious. As an Englishman, I ask, in the name of all that has hitherto been called law, and right, and freedom, why this is tolerated? Here are this Catholic Association, and Order of Liberators, avowedly doing every thing. in their power to prevent the Catholics from having any dealings with Protestants who differ from them in politics. As an Englishman, I ask, in the name of all that has hitherto been called law, and right, and freedom, why this is tolerated? Here are this Catholic Association, and Order of Liberators, collecting money for the purpose of influencing elections in the most pernicious and corrupt manner; and they are threatening every Irish Member of this House who may vote against their dictates, with the loss of his seat, by the most foul and uncon◄ stitutional means. As an Englishman, I ask, in the name of all that has hi therto been called law, and right, and freedom, why this is tolerated? Here are the Catholic Bishops and Priests openly using their tremendous religious despotism for the attainment of the most baleful political objects; they are openly, by the terrors of future perdition, rending asunder the bonds of society, involving their flocks in ruinous war with those whose bread they eat, and constituting their Church the sole Elector of Irish Members of Parliament. As an Englishman, I ask, in the name of all that has hitherto been called law, and right, and freedom, why this is tolerated? Here are the Catholic Association, the Order of Liberators, and the Priesthood, openly violating the laws, stripping the people of their rights, subjecting the Protestants to the most grievous oppression, tyrannizing over Ireland in the most outrageous manner, and, in reality, committing almost every variety of treason. As an Englishman, I ask, in the name of all that has hitherto been called law, and right, and freedom, why this is tolerated? At present, sir, Ireland has no government, and Britain, in as far as concerns Ireland, has no government. The offices may be filled, and the salaries may be paid; there may be an Irish Lord-Lieutenant, and LordChancellor, and a British Prime Minister, and Home-Secretary, in existence; but it is clear, from the spectacle which Ireland has long formed, that, in respect of duty, and in so far as Ireland is concerned, there is not at present either an Irish government or a British one. Had the case been different, I would have put my questions to both governments; but, as it is, I will put them to any man who will answer me. If I am told, in reply, that this hideous, this portentous, this destructive, and this criminal state of things is tolerated, because it is impossible to apply a remedy, or because it might be dangerous to apply one, I will treat the folly and cowardice of him who answers me, with the scorn they merit. Impossible to apply a remedy!-such an opinion uttered in England, and in the House of Commons, cannot surely need refutation. Dangerons to apply a remedy !-the blindness, sir, is wilful, which cannot see that it is the only thing in which we can find safety. If I am told, in reply, that this state of things ought to be VOL. XXIV. tolerated, in justice to the Catholics, to enable them to gain the political power they seek, I will tell him who answers me, that in defending the use of such means for the attainment of such an end, he is an enemy to his kind, and a traitor to his country. It is universally acknowledged that the toleration of these atrocities in the Catholics, aids them greatly in their struggles for the power they claimthat it crushes opposition to them in Ireland-compels many Protestants to support them through interest and terror-forces many landlords to vote for them against conviction-makes many of the Members of this House their abject slaves-forms a powerful weapon in the hands of their advocates-and operates in their favour on the ignorance, timidity, and interest of many people in this country. As a man steadily opposed to their claims, I ask those Ministers who profess to think as I do, why they suffer the Catholics to render themselves so potent by such atrocities? The man who, with the power to prevent it in his hands, tamely suffers the Catholics to render themselves, by illegal and unconstitutional means, almost irresistible-that man, sir, whatever he may call himself, is a promoter of what bears the name of Catholic Emancipation. The man who is conscientiously opposed to such emancipation, will zealously labour to keep from the Catholics the means of attaining it. And what are we doing amidst these horrible fruits of our new system? One part of us is looking on in speechless timidity, while the other is indulging in savage drunken triumph. If any honest man call on the Government to do its duty, he is clamoured down by those ignorant, superficial, crack-brained menials, who hold their seats at the breath of the Catholic Association and Priesthood. In this House the Association and Priesthood find not only blushless eulogists, but victorious defenders; their robberies and oppression, their outrages and crimes, are successfully lauded as things legal, constitutional, just, and most meritorious. All this has its natural effect on the opinion of the country. Our conduct is seen by the country in its true character. If we have not formed a determination never again to look at, or discharge our duty, I need not say more U to induce us to inquire rigidly into the consequences which have flowed from our new system of governing Ireland. In advocating this extended Inquiry, sir, I am not calling on this House to adopt the opinions of any writer, or the policy of any party. I am not asking it to wander into speculation, to institute experiments, or to abandon any principle or system. I am merely craving it to discharge a plain and obvious duty, which has not the most remote connexion with party in terests. Its own interests call for compliance, as a matter of imperious necessity. If we, sir, have been acting wisely and justly, the Inquiry will supply us with ample proofs to silence our opponents, sanction us in proceeding farther, and regain public confidence. We may refuse to inquire, and persevere in the conduct we have of late displayed; but if we do, we shall not escape the penalties. The spell, through which we were wont to lead the community, is broken; and it will never more be known to the present generation. So long, sir, as our labours were confined to foreign policy, and the making of laws which were obviously necessary, our infallibility escaped suspicion; the bulk of the nation was compelled to take our words on trust, or it saw that we did, what it was our duty to do. But when we began to make speculative changes in agriculture, manufactures, trade, currency, and the relations of society; we enabled the country to take exact measure of our qualifications. Then, alas! it discovered that we were, not only imperfect, erring men, but that we displayed more imperfection and error, than the generality of men. The humble member of the community perceived, to his inexpressible astonishment, that individuals who were leaders in this House and the country —that individuals who were even the rulers of the empire-were grossly ignorant on matters perfectly familiar to himself. He heard them assert that to be truth, which he knew from ocular demonstration to be fiction; and he saw them enact laws on principles and assumptions, which had been proved to him to be erroneous by the daily experience of his whole life. The charm of names vanished, and the reign of trust ceased. Let not our leaders and this House hope that mere opinions, no matter from whom they may emanate, will again lead the country. Mr Huskis son will utter his opinions on trade in vain-Mr Peel will utter his opinions on currency in vain-Mr Brougham will utter his opinions on education and the relations between master and servant in vain-this House will utter its opinions on all manner of subjects in vain; for the domination of opinions, I devoutly thank Heaven for it! is no more. We may persevere→ we may vaunt of our omniscience and infallibility-we may cover all who oppose us with slander and obloquywe may worship our "liberal principles" and "enlightened views"-we may be puffed to our hearts' content by the newspapers-but the issue will be, the loss of all that in our public character we ought to value; and the production of all that in our public duty we ought to prevent. I have said, sir, that this Inquiry has nothing to do with party creeds; and I will now say, that I am not advocating it for the sake of any party of public men. My party bonds extend not beyond principles; they have nothing to do with persons. I oppose those who hold principles which I oppose; and I support those who hold principles which I support, without looking at name and condi tion. The principles and policy which I steadily withstood in Mr Canning and Mr Huskisson, I will as steadily withstand in any other Minister; the iniquity of acting otherwise shall not stain my forehead. In respect of mere persons, I care no more for the Duke of Wellington than for the Marquis of Lansdown or Lord King-for Mr Peel than for Mr Brougham or Mr Huskisson. Personal politics have been too long the shame and scourge of my country, for me to have any further connexion with them. From the humiliation of combating for one knot of public men against another; when, after their quarrelling and resigning, their treachery, and vituperations of each other, they shake hands, and protest that they have never differed in principle, and have only had a temporary squabble from dirty personal pique and interest;-from such humiliation I will be careful in future to preserve myself. With the coalitions and alliances, which are the scandal of the age, I will have nothing to do: to me they are as loathsome in one man or party as in another; my judgment tells me that no man, no matter what his rank, reputation, name, and situation may be, can be a party to them without losing his character in the eyes of the honest and consistent. I fear I can only escape being contaminated with them, by standing aloof from all parties of public men. Nevertheless, sir, I have a party. I belong to one which the proudest man that ever trod the proud soil of Old England might be proud of belonging to. I hold the principles which are held by the flower of my country, and by my country; therefore these constitute my party. In its name I now speak. Let not the heads or followers of personal party-the innovators -the turncoats-the men who hold one creed out of office and another in it-and those who are deaf to reason and blind to demonstration, degrade me by voting in favour of my motion, for I crave not their support. I appeal only to those whose party is their country-who revere their laws and institutions-whose souls glow with the sacred flame of Old English integrity and honour-whose fame is unsoiled by guilty coalition and alliance whose consistency is unimpeachedwho, disregarding opinion and theory, follow fact and experience-who are anxious to make, not this portion or that, but ALL their fellow-subjects prosperous and happy-and to whom the honour, greatness, and felicity of their country are as dear as the dearest of their personal possessions. To such men I appeal, in confidence that they will find in my appeal an irresistible summons to the discharge of the highest of their duties. I therefore move, &c. &c. HORE GERMANICE. No. XXV. THE GOLDEN FLEECE, entitled by its author a dramatic poem, is in three distinct Parts, or Plays (what is learnedly denominated a Trilogy) of which the first is a sort of prologue, or induction, to the other two, namely, "The Guest," in one act only, containing the arrival of the Fleece in Colchis, with the murder, in violation of the laws of hospitality, of the Greek, Phryxus, who brought it. The Second, "The Argonauts," in four acts, contains so much of their celebrated expedition for its recovery, and satisfaction of this crime, as had its scene in Colchis,-and the Third, in five acts, is, in name and subject, the usual tragedy of " Medea." The spirited opening scene of The Guest shews the liveliness of concep tion with which our author transports himself and his reader into the place, and time of his action. The stage represents, COLCHIS. A wild place, with rocks and trees-in the background the seaOn the strand an altar of unhewn stones, on which is the colossal statue of a man, naked, bearded, with a club in his right hand, and over his shoulders a golden ram's fleece-On the left, at half the depth of the stage, the entrance of a house, with steps, and rude pillars. Day-break. MEDEA, GORA, (her Nurse), PERITTA, ATTENDANT DAMSELS. As the curtain is drawn up, MEDEA is seen standing in the foreground, with her bow in her hand, in the attitude of having just discharged the arrow. On the steps of the altar lies a roe, pierced with an arrow. The Damsels, (who had stood back, hastening to the altar). The victim bleeds. Med. (In her former attitude). Hath it hit? One of the Attendants. Right in the heart. Med. (giving her bow.) A sign for good!-So let us haste!-Go one, And speak the prayer. Gora. (Advancing to the altar). Darimba! mightiest queen! Preserver and destroyer! Giver of wine! Of the ripe ear, and the wealth of the jocund chase, And the death-foe's blood!-Hear! I have called thy name! Chorus. Hear! hear our prayer! Daughter of Heaven!-Dread Maid! Darimba! hear! That love us, well to love, to hate that hate! Make us rich! make us strong!—Great Queen!—Darimba! Chorus. Hear us! Darimba!-Hear! Darimba! And with the alarums of our loud-voiced chase Let the green forest clamour near and far! The sun doth mount!-Out! out!—And she amongst us, -Thou here, Peritta ? &c. Medea, aware that the damsel, so named, (who had lately, by giving way to the weakness of love, and against a positive formal promise not to desert her mistress, intending, at least, to marry, incurred her displeasure, and been, in consequence, forbidden her presence,) has transgressed the prohibition, bitterly upbraids her false hood, and dismisses her with great scorn to the lowly duties she has chosen in the poor and "smoky" cabin of her lover. The incident is given to display her character, and present haughty freedom from feelings which will fatally overrule her will and life. A Colchian, now entering, announces, that a ship, manned with strangers, has touched their coast. The Princess refers him to her father, Aietes, who, upon hearing the tidings, comes out immediately after from his palace. Not one of all the characters is more forcibly and entirely conceived, or more successfully drawn, than this old barbarian king.-Without law-inflamed instantaneously with the pros pect of plunder-artful, false, courageous in his person, whilst suspicious of men, mistrustful even of events, he is timid in his expectations and pur poses,-strongly loving his children, yet wayward and harsh in his humour and conduct towards them—as a king, challenging compliance with his will, yet dishonouring his state, and not seeming to know that he does so, by the frank avowal of unkingly fearseager in his hate of a stranger, to whom he feels no tie-superstitious, but, under the impulse of his passion, impious. He discloses, although in doubt, to his daughter, his quickly taken resolution to possess himself of the "gold, treasures, wealthy spoil,” which the vessel bears; then desires from her counsel and aid, versed as she is in her mother's arts to draw from herbs and stones potions that bind the will and fetter the strength, able to summon spirits, and conjure the moon. Whilst he is in anger at her wilful slowness in her part, a second Colchian brings him the request of the strangers for an audience, which may result in a friendly covenant. The result he foresees, and now distinctly requires of his daughter a drink known to him as within her skill, infusing irresistible sleep, which she, having first asked " for what use," and recei ved no answer, but the command repeated, goes out to prepare. |