THE Baronet had certainly one great advantage over all other bull and
blunder makers: he seldom launched a blunder from which some fine
aphorism or maxim might not be easily extracted. When a debate arose in
the Irish house of commons on the vote of a grant which was recommended
by Sir John Parnel, chancellor of the exchequer, as one not likely to be
felt burdensome for many years to come--it was observed in reply, that
the house had no just right to load posterity with a weighty debt for
what could in no degree operate to their advantage. Sir Boyle, eager to
defend the measures of government, immediately rose, and in a very few
words, put forward the most unanswerable argument which human ingenuity
could possibly devise. "What, Mr. Speaker!" said he, "and so we are to
beggar ourselves for fear of vexing posterity! Now, I would ask the
honorable gentleman, and this _still more_ honorable house, why we
should put ourselves out of our way for _posterity_: for what has
_posterity_ done for _us_?"
Sir Boyle, hearing the roar of laughter which of course followed this
sensible blunder, but not being conscious that he had said anything out
of the way, was rather puzzled, and conceived that the house had
misunderstood him. He therefore begged leave to explain, as he
apprehended that gentlemen had entirely mistaken his words: he assured
the house that "by _posterity_, he did not at all mean our _ancestors_,
but those who were to come _immediately_ after _them_." Upon hearing
this _explanation_, it was impossible to do any serious business for
half an hour.
Sir Boyle Roche was induced by government to fight as hard as possible
for the union: so he did, and I really believe fancied, by degrees, that
he was right. On one occasion, a general titter arose at his florid
picture of the happiness which must proceed from this event.
"Gentlemen," said Sir Boyle, "may titther, and titther, and titther, and
may think it a bad measure; but their heads at present are hot, and will
so remain till they grow cool again; and so they can't decide right now;
but when the _day of judgment_ comes, _then_ honorable gentlemen will be
satisfied at this most excellent union. Sir, there is no Levitical
degrees between nations, and on this occasion I can see neither sin nor
shame in _marrying our own sister_."
He was a determined enemy to the French revolution, and seldom rose in
the house for several years without volunteering some abuse of it. "Mr.
Speaker," said he, in a mood of this kind, "if we once permitted the
villanous French masons to meddle with the buttresses and walls of our
ancient constitution, they would never stop, nor stay, Sir, till they
brought the foundation-stones tumbling down about the ears of the
nation! There," continued Sir Boyle, placing his hand earnestly on his
heart, his powdered head shaking in unison with his loyal zeal, while he
described the probable consequences of an invasion of Ireland by the
French republicans; "There Mr. Speaker! if those Gallican villains
should invade us, Sir, 'tis on _that very table_, may-be, these
honorable members might see their own destinies lying in heaps a-top of
one another!' Here perhaps, Sir, the murderous _Marshallaw-men_
(Marseillois) would break in, cut us to mince-meat, and throw our
bleeding heads upon that table, to stare us in the face!"
Sir Boyle, on another occasion, was arguing for the habeas corpus
suspension bill in Ireland: "It would surely be better, Mr. Speaker,"
said he, "to give up not only a _part_, but, if necessary, even the
_whole_, of our constitution, to preserve _the remainder_!"