“The profligate, unprincipled Westmoreland”--I throw down the paper
and address myself in particular to some of you. There are, I see,
amongst you some of our Bible distributors, “and of our suppressors
of vice.” Distributors of Bibles, suppressors of vice--what call you
profligacy? What is it you would call profligacy? Suppose the peerage
was exposed to sale--set up at open auction--it was at that time a
judicial office--suppose that its price, the exact price of this
judicial office, was accurately ascertained by daily experience--would
you call that profligacy? If pensions were multiplied beyond bounds and
beyond example--if places were augmented until invention was exhausted,
and then were subdivided and split into halves, so that two might take
the emoluments of each, and no person do the duty--if these acts were
resorted to in order to corrupt your representatives--would you,
gentle suppressors of vice, call that profligacy?
If the father of children selected in the open day his adulterous
paramour--if the wedded mother of children displayed her crime
unblushingly--if the assent of the titled or untitled wittol to his
own shame was purchased with the people’s money--if this scene--if
these were enacted in the open day, would you call that profligacy,
sweet distributors of Bibles? The women of Ireland have always been
beauteous to a proverb; they were, without an exception, chaste beyond
the terseness of a proverb to express; they are still as chaste as in
former days, but the depraved example of a depraved court has furnished
some exceptions, and the action of criminal conversation, before the
time of Westmoreland unknown, has since become more familiar to our
courts of justice.
Call you the sad example which produced those exceptions--call you
_that_ profligacy, suppressors of vice and Bible distributors? The
vices of the poor are within the reach of control; to suppress them,
you can call in aid the churchwarden and the constable; the justice of
the peace will readily aid you, for he is a gentleman--the Court of
Sessions will punish those vices for you by fine, by imprisonment,
and, if you are urgent, by whipping. But, suppressors of vice, who
shall aid you to suppress the vices of the great? Are you sincere,
or are you, to use your own phraseology, whitewashed tombs--painted
charnel-houses? Be ye hypocrites? If you are not--if you be sincere,
(and, oh, how I wish that you were)--if you be sincere, I will steadily
require to know of you, what aid you expect, to suppress the vices of
the rich and great? Who will assist you to suppress those vices? The
churchwarden!!--why he, I believe, handed _them_ into the best pew in
one of your cathedrals, that they might lovingly hear Divine service
together. The constable!! Absurd. The justice of the peace!!--no,
upon his honor. As to the Court of Sessions, you cannot expect it to
interfere; and my lords the judges are really so busy at the assizes,
in hurrying the grand juries through the presentments, that there is no
leisure to look after the scandalous faults of the great. Who, then,
sincere and candid suppressors of vice, can aid you?--_The Press_; the
Press alone talks of the profligacy of the great; and, at least, shames
into decency those whom it may fail to correct. The Press is your, but
your only assistant. Go, then, men of conscience, men of religion--go,
then, and convict John Magee, because he published that Westmoreland
was profligate and unprincipled as a Lord Lieutenant--do, convict, and
then return to your distribution of Bibles and to your attacks upon the
recreations of the poor, under the name of vices!
Do, convict the only aid which virtue has, and distribute your Bibles
that you may have the name of being religious; upon your sincerity
depends my client’s prospect of a verdict. _Does_ he lean upon a broken
reed?
I pass on from the sanctified portion of the jury which I have latterly
addressed, and I call the attention of you all to the next member of
the sentence:--
“The cold-hearted and cruel Camden.”
Here I have your prejudices all armed against me. In the administration
of Camden, your faction was cherished and triumphant. Will you prevent
him to be called cold and cruel? Alas! to-day, why have I not men to
address who would listen to me for the sake of impartial justice! But
even with _you_ the case is too powerful to allow me to despair.
Well, _I do_ say, the cold and cruel Camden. Why, on _one circuit_,
during his administration, there were _one hundred individuals tried
before one judge; of these ninety-eight were capitally convicted,
and ninety-seven hanged_! I understand _one_ escaped; but he was a
_soldier_ who murdered a _peasant_, or something of that _trivial_
nature--_ninety-seven_ victims in one circuit!!!
In the meantime, it was necessary, for the purposes of the Union,
that the flame of rebellion should be fed. The meetings of the rebel
colonels in the north were, for a length of time, regularly reported
to government; but the rebellion was not then ripe enough; and whilst
the fruit was coming to maturity, under the fostering hand of the
administration, the wretched dupes atoned on the gallows for allowing
themselves to be deceived.
In the meantime the soldiery were turned in at free quarters amongst
the wives and daughters of the peasantry!!!
Have you heard of Abercrombie, the valiant and the good--he
who, mortally wounded, neglected his wound until victory was
ascertained--he who allowed his life’s stream to flow unnoticed because
his country’s battle was in suspense--he who died the martyr of
victory--he who commenced the career of glory on the land, and taught
French insolence, than which there is nothing so permanent--even
transplanted, it exhibits itself to the third and fourth generation--he
taught French insolence, that the British and Irish soldier was as
much his superior by land, as the sailor was confessedly by sea--he,
in short, who commenced that career which has since placed the Irish
Wellington on the highest pinnacle of glory? Abercrombie and Moore
were in Ireland under Camden. Moore, too, has since fallen at the
moment of triumph--Moore, the best of sons, of brothers, of friends,
of men--the soldier and the scholar--the soul of reason and the heart
of pity--Moore has, in documents of which you may plead ignorance,
left his opinions upon record with respect to the cruelty of Camden’s
administration. But you all have heard of Abercrombie’s proclamation,
for it amounted to that; he proclaimed that cruelty in terms the
most unequivocal; he stated to the soldiery and to the nation, that
the conduct of the Camden administration had rendered “the soldiery
formidable to all but the enemy.”
Was there no cruelty in thus degrading the British soldier? And say,
was not the process by which that degradation was effectuated cruelty?
Do, then, contradict Abercrombie, upon your oaths, if you dare; but,
by doing so, it is not my client alone you will convict--you will also
convict yourselves of the foul crime of perjury.
I now come to the third branch of this sentence; and here I have
an easy task. All, gentlemen, that is said of the artificer and
superintendent of the Union is this--“the artful and treacherous
Cornwallis.” Is it necessary to prove that the Union was effectuated
by artifice and treachery? For my part, it makes my blood boil when
I think of the unhappy period which was contrived and seized on to
carry it into effect; one year sooner, and it would have been a
revolution--one year later, and it would have been forever impossible
to carry it. The moment was artfully and treacherously seized on, and
_our_ country, that _was_ a nation for countless ages, has dwindled
into a province, and her name and her glory are extinct forever.
I should not waste a moment upon this part of the case, but that the
gentlemen at the other side who opposed that measure have furnished
me with some topics which I may not, cannot, omit. Indeed, Mr. Magee
deserves no verdict from any Irish jury who can hesitate to think that
the contriver of the Union is treated with too much lenity in this
sentence; he fears your disapprobation for speaking with so little
animosity of the artificer of the Union.
There was one piece of treachery committed at that period, at which
both you and I equally rejoice; it was the breach of faith towards the
leading Catholics; the written promises made them at that period have
been since printed; I rejoice with you that they were not fulfilled;
when the Catholic trafficked for his own advantage upon his country’s
miseries, he deserved to be deceived. For this mockery, I thank the
Cornwallis administration. _I rejoice, also, that my first introduction
to the stage of public life, was in the opposition to that measure._
In humble and obscure distance, I followed the footsteps of my present
adversaries. What their sentiments were then of the authors of the
Union, I beg to read to you; I will read them from a newspaper set up
for the mere purpose of opposing the Union, and conducted under the
control of these gentlemen.[5]
* * * * *
Having followed the prosecutor through this weary digression, I return
to the next sentence of this publication. Yet I cannot--I must detain
you still a little longer from it, whilst I supplicate your honest
indignation, if in your resentments there be aught of honesty, against
the mode in which the Attorney-General has introduced the name of our
aged and afflicted sovereign. He says this is a libel on the King,
because it imputes to him a selection of improper and criminal chief
governors. Gentlemen, this is the very acme of servile doctrine. It is
the most unconstitutional doctrine that could be uttered: it supposes
that the sovereign is responsible for the acts of his servants, whilst
the constitution declares that the King can do no wrong, and that even
for his personal acts, his servants shall be personally responsible.
Thus, the Attorney-General reverses for you the constitution in theory;
and, in point of fact, where can be found, in this publication, any,
even the slightest allusion to his Majesty? The theory is against
the Attorney-General, and yet, contrary to the fact, and against the
theory, he seeks to enlist another prejudice of yours against Mr. Magee.
Prejudice did I call it? Oh, no! it is no prejudice; that sentiment
which combines respect with affection for my aged sovereign, suffering
under a calamity with which heaven has willed to visit him, but which
is not due to any default of his. There never was a sentiment that I
should wish to see more cherished--more honored. To you the King may
appear an object of respect; to his Catholic subjects he is one of
veneration; to them he has been a bountiful benefactor. To the utter
disregard of your aldermen of Skinner’s-alley, and the more pompous
magnates of William-street, his Majesty procured, at his earnest
solicitation from Parliament, the restoration of much of our liberties.
He disregarded your anti-Popery petitions. He treated with calm
indifference the ebullitions of your bigotry; and I owe to him that I
have the honor of standing in the proud situation from which I am able,
if not to protect my client, at least to pour the indignant torrent of
my discourse against his enemies, and those of his country.
The publication to which I now recall you, goes to describe the
effects of the facts which I have shown you to have been drawn from
the undisputed and authentic history of former times. I have, I hope,
convinced you that neither Leland nor Hume could have been indicted
for stating those facts, and it would be a very strange perversion of
principle, which would allow you to convict Mr. Magee for that which
has been stated by other writers, not only without punishment, but with
applause.
That part of the paragraph which relates to the present day is in these
words:--
“Since that period the complexion of the times has changed--the country
has advanced--it has outgrown submission, _and some forms, at least,
must now be observed towards the people_.
“The system, however, is still the same; it is the old play with
new decorations, presented in an age somewhat more enlightened; the
principle of government remains unaltered--a principle of exclusion
which debars the majority of the people from the enjoyment of those
privileges that are possessed by the minority, and which must,
therefore, maintain itself by all those measures necessary for a
government founded on injustice.”
The prosecutor insists that this is the most libellous part of the
entire publication. I am glad he does so; because if there be amongst
you a single particle of discrimination, you cannot fail to perceive
that this is not a libel--that this paragraph cannot constitute any
crime. It states that the present is a system of exclusion. Surely,
it is no crime to say so; it is what you all say. It is what the
Attorney-General himself gloried in. This is, said he, exclusively a
Protestant government. Mr. Magee and he are agreed. Mr. Magee adds
that a principle of exclusion on account of religion, is founded on
injustice. Gentlemen, if a Protestant were to be excluded from any
temporal advantages upon the score of his religion, would not you
say that the principle upon which he was excluded was unjust? That
is precisely what Mr. Magee says; for the principle which excludes
the Catholic in Ireland, would exclude the Protestant in Spain and in
Portugal, and then you clearly admit its justice. So that, really, you
would condemn yourselves, and your own opinions, and the right to be a
Protestant in Spain and Portugal, if you condemn this sentiment.
But I would have you further observe that this is no more than the
discussion of an abstract principle of government; it arraigns not
the conduct of any individual, or of any administration; it only
discusses and decides upon the moral fitness of a certain theory, on
which the management of the affairs of Ireland has been conducted. If
this be a crime, we are all criminals; for this question, whether
it be just or not to exclude from power and office a class of the
people for religion, is the subject of daily--of hourly discussion.
The Attorney-General says it is quite just; I proclaim it to be
unjust--obviously unjust. At all public meetings, in all private
companies, this point is decided different ways, according to the
temper and the interest of individuals. Indeed, it is but too much the
topic of every man’s discourse; and the gaols and the barracks of the
country would not contain the hundredth part of those with whom the
Attorney-General would have to crowd them if it be penal to call the
principle of exclusion unjust. In this court, without the least danger
of interruption or reproof, I proclaim the injustice of that principle.
I will then ask whether it be lawful to print that which it is not
unlawful to proclaim in the face of a court of justice? And above
all, I will ask whether it can be criminal to discuss the abstract
principles of government? Is the theory of the law a prohibited
subject? I had understood that there was no right so clear and
undoubted as that of discussing abstract and theoretic principles,
and their applicability to practicable purposes. For the first time
do I hear this disputed; and now see what it is the Attorney-General
prohibits. He insists upon punishing Mr. Magee; first, because he
accuses his administration of “errors”; secondly, because he charges
them with not being distinguished for “talents”; thirdly, because he
cannot discover their “striking features”; and fourthly, because he
discusses an “abstract principle”!
This is quite intelligible--this is quite tangible. I begin to
understand what the Attorney-General means by the liberty of the
Press; it means a prohibition of printing anything except praise
respecting “_the errors, the talents, or the striking features_” of
any administration, and of discussing any _abstract principle of
government_. Thus the forbidden subjects are errors, talents, striking
features, and principles. Neither the theory of the government nor
its practices are to be discussed; you may, indeed, praise them; you
may call the Attorney-General “the best and wisest of men”; you may
call his lordship the most learned and impartial of all possible chief
justices; you may, if you have powers of visage sufficient, call the
Lord Lieutenant the best of all imaginable governors. That, gentlemen,
is the boasted liberty of the Press--the liberty that exists in
Constantinople--the liberty of applying the most fulsome and unfounded
flattery, but not one word of censure or reproof.
Here is an idol worthy of the veneration of the Attorney-General.
Yes; he talked of his veneration for the liberty of the Press; he
also talked of its being a protection to the people against the
government. Protection! Not against errors--not against the want of
talents or striking features--nor against the effort of any unjust
principle--protection! Against what is it to protect? Did he not
mock you? Did he not plainly and palpably delude you, when he talked
of the protection of the Press? Yes. To his inconsistencies and
contradictions he calls on you to sacrifice your consciences; and
because you are no-Popery men, and distributors of Bibles, and aldermen
of Skinner’s-alley, and Protestant petitioners, he requires of you to
brand your souls with perjury. You cannot escape it; it is, it must
be perjury to find a verdict for a man who gravely admits that the
liberty of the Press is recognized by law, and that it is a venerable
object, and yet calls for your verdict upon the ground that there is no
such thing in existence as that which he has admitted, that the law
recognizes, and that he himself venerates.
Clinging to the fond but faint hope that you are not capable of
sanctioning, by your oaths, so monstrous an inconsistency, I lead you
to the next sentence upon this record:
“Although his Grace does not appear to know what are the qualities
necessary for a judge in Canada, or for an aide-de-camp in waiting at
a court, he surely cannot be ignorant what are requisites for a Lord
Lieutenant.”
This appears to be a very innocent sentence; yet the Attorney-General,
the venerator of that protection of the people against a bad
government--the liberty of the Press--tells you that it is a gross
libel to impute so much ignorance to his Grace. As to the aide-de-camp,
gentlemen, whether he be selected for the brilliancy of his spurs, the
polish of his boots, or the precise angle of his cocked hat, are grave
considerations which I refer to you. Decide upon these atrocities, I
pray you. But as to the judge in Canada, it cannot be any reproach to
his Grace to be ignorant of his qualifications. The old French law
prevails in Canada, and there is not a lawyer at the Irish Bar, except,
perhaps, the Attorney-General, who is sufficiently acquainted with
that law to know how far any man may be fit for the station of judge in
Canada.
If this be an ignorance without reproach in Irish lawyers, and if
there be any reproach in it, I feel it not, whilst I avow that
ignorance--yet, surely it is absurd to torture it into a calumny
against the Lord Lieutenant--a military man, and no lawyer. I doubt
whether it would be a libel if my client had said _that his Grace was
ignorant of the qualities necessary for a judge_ in Ireland--for a
_chief judge_, my lord. He has not said so, however, gentlemen, and
true or false, that is not now the question under consideration. We are
in Canada at present, gentlemen, in a ludicrous search for a libel in
a sentence of no great point or meaning. If you are sapient enough to
suspect that it contains a libel, your doubt can only arise from not
comprehending it; and that, I own, is a doubt difficult to remove. But
I mock you when I talk of this insignificant sentence.
I shall read the next paragraph at full length. It is connected with
the Canadian sentence:--
“Therefore, were an appeal to be made to him in a dispassionate and
sober moment, we might candidly confess that the Irish would not be
disappointed in their hopes of a successor, though they would behold
the same smiles, experience the same sincerity, and witness the same
disposition towards conciliation.
“What though they were deceived in 1795, and found the mildness of a
Fitzwilliam a false omen of concord; though they were duped in 1800,
and found that the privileges of the Catholics did not follow the
extinction of the parliament! Yet, at his departure, he will, no doubt,
state good grounds for future expectation; that his administration was
not the time for Emancipation, but that the season is fast approaching;
that there were ‘existing circumstances,’ but that now the people may
rely upon the virtues even of an hereditary Prince; that they should
continue to worship the false idol; that their cries, must, at least,
be heard; and that, if he has not complied, it is only because he has
not spoken. In short, his Grace will in no way vary from the uniform
conduct observed by most of his predecessors, first preaching to the
confidence of the people, then playing upon their credulity.
“He came over ignorant--he soon became prejudiced, and then he became
intemperate. He takes from the people their money; he eats of their
bread, and drinks of their wine; in return, he gives them a bad
government, and, at his departure, leaves them more distracted than
ever. His Grace commenced his reign by flattery, he continued it in
folly, he accompanied it with violence, and he will conclude it with
falsehood.”
There is one part of this sentence for which I most respectfully
solicit your indulgence and pardon. Be not exasperated with us for
talking of the mildness of Lord Fitzwilliam, or of his administration.
But, notwithstanding the violence any praise of him has excited amongst
you, come dispassionately, I pray you, to the consideration of the
paragraph. Let us abstract the meaning of it from the superfluous
words. It certainly does tell you that his Grace came over ignorant of
Irish affairs, and he acquired prejudices upon those subjects, and he
has become intemperate. Let us discuss this part separately from the
other matter suggested by the paragraph in question. That the Duke of
Richmond came over to Ireland ignorant of the details of our domestic
policy cannot be matter either of surprise or of any reproach. A
military man engaged in those pursuits which otherwise occupy persons
of his rank, altogether unconnected with Ireland, he could not have
had any inducement to make himself acquainted with the details of our
barbarous wrongs, of our senseless party quarrels, and criminal feuds;
he was not stimulated to examine them by any interest, nor could any
man be attracted to study them by taste. It is, therefore, no censure
to talk of his ignorance--of that with which it would be absurd to
expect that he should be acquainted; and the knowledge of which would
neither have served, nor exalted, nor amused him.
Then, gentlemen, it is said he became “prejudiced.” Prejudiced may
sound harsh in your ears; but you are not, at least you ought not, to
decide upon _the sound_--it is _the sense_ of the word that should
determine you. Now what is the sense of the word “prejudice” here? It
means the having adopted precisely the opinions which every one of
you entertain. By “prejudice” the writer means, and can mean, nothing
but such sentiments as _you cherish_. When he talks of prejudice, he
intends to convey the idea that the Duke took up the opinion that the
few ought to govern the many in Ireland; that there ought to be a
favored, and an excluded class in Ireland; that the burdens of the
state ought to be shared equally, but its benefits conferred on a few.
Such are the ideas conveyed by the word prejudice; and I fearlessly ask
you, is it a crime to impute to his Grace these notions which _you_
yourselves entertain? Is he calumniated--is he libelled, when he is
charged with concurring with you, gentlemen of the jury? Will you, by
a verdict of conviction, stamp your own political sentiments with the
seal of reprobation? If you convict my client, you do this; you decide
that it is a libel to charge any man with those doctrines which are
so useful to you individually, and of which you boast; or, you think
the opinions just, and yet that it is criminal to charge a man with
those just opinions. For the sake, therefore, of consistency, and as an
approval of your own opinions, I call on you for a verdict of acquittal.
I need not detain you long on the expression “intemperate”; it does not
mean any charge of excess of indulgence in any enjoyment; it is not,
as the Attorney-General suggested, an accusation of indulging beyond
due bounds in the pleasures of the table, or of the bottle; it does not
allude, as the Attorney-General says, to midnight orgies, or to morning
revels. I admit--I freely admit--that an allusion of that kind would
savor of libel, as it would certainly be unnecessary for any purpose
of political discussion. But the intemperance here spoken of is mere
political intemperance; it is that violence which every man of a fervid
disposition feels in support of his political opinions. Nay, the more
pure and honest any man may be in the adoption of his opinions, the
more likely, and the more justifiable will he be in that ardent support
of them which goes by the name of intemperance.
In short, although political intemperance cannot be deemed by cold
calculators as a virtue, yet it has its source in the purest virtues
of the human heart, and it frequently produces the greatest advantages
to the public. How would it be possible to overcome the many obstacles
which self-interest, and ignorance, and passion throw in the way of
improvement, without some of that ardor of temper and disposition which
grave men call intemperance? And, gentlemen, are not your opinions
as deserving of warm support as the opinions of other men; or do you
feel any inherent depravity in the political sentiments which the Duke
of Richmond has adopted from you, that would render him depraved or
degraded by any violence in their support? You have no alternative. If
you convict my client, you condemn, upon your oaths, your own political
creed; and declare it to be a libel to charge any man with energy in
your cause.
If you are not disposed to go this length of political inconsistency,
and if you have determined to avoid the religious inconsistency of
perjuring yourselves for the good and glory of the Protestant religion,
do, I pray you, examine the rest of this paragraph, and see whether
you can, by any ingenuity, detect that nondescript, a libel, in it.
It states in substance this: that this administration, treading in
the steps of former administrations, preached to the confidence of
the people, and played on their credulity; and that it will end, as
those administrations have done, in some flattering prophecy, paying
present disappointment with the coinage of delusive hope. That this
administration commenced, as usual, with preaching to the confidence of
the people, was neither criminal in the fact, nor can it be unpleasant
in the recital.
It is the immemorial usage of all administrations and of all stations,
to commence with those civil professions of future excellence
of conduct which are called, and not unaptly, “_preaching to the
confidence of the people_.” The very actors are generally sincere
at this stage of the political farce; and it is not insinuated that
this administration was not as candid on this subject as the best of
its predecessors. The _playing on the credulity of the people_ is
the ordinary state trick. You recollect how angry many of you were
with his Grace for his Munster tour, shortly after his arrival here.
You recollect how he checked the Mayor of Cork for proposing the new
favorite Orange toast; what liberality he displayed to Popish traders
and bankers in Limerick; and how he returned to the capital, leaving
behind him the impression that the no-Popery men had been mistaken in
their choice, and that the Duke of Richmond was the enemy of every
bigotry--the friend to every liberality! Was he sincere, gentlemen
of the jury, or was this one of those innocent devices which are
called--playing on the people’s credulity? Was he sincere? Ask his
subsequent conduct. Have there been since that time any other or
different toasts cheered in his presence? Has the name of Ireland and
of Irishmen been profaned by becoming the sport of the warmth excited
by the accompaniment to these toasts? Some individuals of you could
inform me. I see another dignitary of your corporation here [said Mr.
O’Connell, turning round pointedly to the Lord Mayor]--I see a civic
dignitary here, who could tell of the toasts of these days or nights,
and would not be at a loss to apply the right name--if he were not too
prudent as well as too polite to do so--to that innocent affectation
of liberality which distinguished his Grace’s visit to the south of
Ireland. It was, indeed, a play upon our credulity, but it can be
no libel to speak of it as such; for see the situation in which you
would place his Grace; you know he affected conciliation and perfect
neutrality between our parties at first; you know he has since taken a
marked and decided part with you.
Surely you are not disposed to call this a crime, as it were, to
convict his Grace of duplicity, and of a vile hypocrisy. No, gentlemen,
I entreat of you not to calumniate the Duke; call this conduct a
mere play on the credulity of a people easily deceived--innocent in
its intention, and equally void of guilt in its description. Do not
attach to those words a meaning which would prove that you yourselves
condemned, not so much the writer of them, as the man who gave color
and countenance to this assertion. Besides, gentlemen, what is your
liberty of the Press worth, if it be worthy of a dungeon to assert that
the public credulity has been played upon? The liberty of the Press
would be less than a dream, a shadow, if every such phrase be a libel.
But the Attorney-General triumphantly tells you that there must be a
libel in this paragraph, because it ends with a charge of falsehood.
May I ask you to take the entire paragraph together? Common sense and
your duty require you to do so. You will then perceive that this charge
of falsehood is no more than an opinion that the administration of
the Duke of Richmond will terminate precisely as that of many of his
predecessors has done, by an excuse for the past--a flattering and
fallacious promise for the future. Why, you must all of you have seen,
a short time since, an account of a public dinner in London, given by
persons styling themselves “Friends to Religious Liberty.” At that
dinner, at which two of the Royal Dukes attended, there were, I think,
no less than four or five noblemen who had filled the office of Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland. Gentlemen, at this dinner, they were ardent
in their professions of kindness towards the Catholics of Ireland, in
their declarations of the obvious policy and justice of conciliation
and concession, and they bore ample testimony to our sufferings and
our merits. But I appeal from their present declarations to their past
conduct; they are now full of liberality and justice to us; yet I speak
only the truth of history when I say that, during their government of
this country, no practical benefits resulted from all this wisdom and
kindness of sentiment; with the single exception of Lord Fitzwilliam,
not one of them even attempted to do any good to the Catholics, or to
Ireland.
What did the Duke of Bedford do for us? _Just nothing._ Some civility,
indeed, in words--some playing on public credulity--but in act and
deed, nothing at all. What did Lord Hardwicke do for us? Oh, nothing,
or rather less than nothing; his administration here was, in that
respect, a kind of negative quality; it was cold, harsh, and forbidding
to the Catholics; lenient, mild, and encouraging to the Orange faction;
the public mind lay in the first torpor caused by the mighty fall of
the Union, and whilst we lay entranced in the oblivious pool, Lord
Hardwicke’s administration proceeded without a trace of that justice
and liberality which it appears he must have thought unbefitting
the season of his government, and which, if he then entertained, he
certainly concealed; he ended, however, with giving us flattering hopes
for the future. The Duke of Bedford was more explicit; he promised in
direct terms, and drew upon the future exertions of an _hereditary
Prince_, to compensate us for present disappointment. And will any
man assert that the Duke of Richmond is libelled by a comparison with
Lord Hardwicke; that he is traduced when he is compared with the Duke
of Bedford? If the words actually were these, “the Duke of Richmond
will terminate his administration exactly as Lord Hardwicke and the
Duke of Bedford terminated their administrations”; if those were the
words, none of you could possibly vote for a conviction, and yet the
meaning is precisely the same. No more is expressed by the language
of my client; and, if the meaning be thus clearly innocent, it would
be strange, indeed, to call on you for a verdict of conviction upon
no more solid ground than this, that whilst the signification was the
same, the words were different. And thus, again, does the prosecutor
require of you to separate the sense from the sound, and to convict for
the sound, against the sense of the passage.
In plain truth, gentlemen, if there be a harshness in the sound, there
is none in the words. The writer describes, and means to describe,
the ordinary termination of every administration repaying in promise
the defaults of performance. And, when he speaks of falsehood, he
prophesies merely as to the probable or at least possible conclusion of
the present government. He does not impute to any precedent assertion,
falsehood; but he does predict, that the concluding promise of this,
as of other administrations, depending as those promises always do
upon other persons for performance, will remain as former promises
have remained--unfulfilled and unperformed. And is this prophecy--this
prediction a crime? Is it a libel to prophesy? See what topics this
sage venerator of the liberty of the Press, the Attorney-General, would
fain prohibit. First, he tells you that the crimes of the predecessors
of the Duke must not be mentioned--and thus he forbids the history of
past events. Secondly, he informs you that no allusion is to be made
to the errors, follies, or even the striking features of the present
governors--and thus he forbids the detail of the occurrences of the
present day. And, thirdly, he declares that no conjecture shall be
made upon what is likely to occur hereafter--and thus he forbids all
attempts to anticipate future acts.
It comes simply to this: he talks of venerating the liberties of the
Press, and yet he restrains that Press from discussing past history,
present story, and future probabilities; he prohibits the past, the
present, and the future; ancient records, modern truth, and prophecy,
are all within the capacious range of his punishments. Is there
anything else? Would this venerator of the liberty of the Press go
farther? Yes, gentlemen; having forbidden all matter of history past
and present, and all prediction of the future, he generously throws in
_abstract principles_, and, as he has told you that his prisons shall
contain every person who speaks of what was, or what is, or what will
be, he likewise consigned to the same fate every person who treats of
the theory or principles of government; and yet he dares to talk of the
liberty of the Press! Can you be his dupes? Will you be his victims?
Where is the conscience--where is the indignant spirit of insulted
reason amongst you? Has party feeling extinguished in your breasts
every glow of virtue--every spark of manhood?
If there be any warmth about you--if you are not clay-cold to all but
party feeling, I would, with the air and in the tone of triumph, call
you to the consideration of the remaining paragraph which has been
spread on the lengthened indictment before you. I divide it into two
branches, and shall do no more with the one than to repeat it. I read
it for you already; I must read it again:
“Had he remained what he first came over, or what he afterwards
professed to be, he would have retained his reputation for _honest,
open hostility_, defending his political principles with firmness,
perhaps with warmth, but without rancor; the supporter, and not the
tool of an administration; a mistaken politician, perhaps, but an
honorable man and a respectable soldier.”
Would to God I had to address another jury! Would to God I had reason
and judgment to address, and I could entertain no apprehension from
passion or prejudice! Here should I then take my stand, and require of
that unprejudiced jury, whether this sentence does not demonstrate the
complete absence of private malice or personal hostility. Does not this
sentence prove a kindly disposition towards the individual, mixing and
mingling with that discussion which freedom sanctions and requires,
respecting his political conduct? Contrast this sentence with the
prosecutor’s accusation of private malignity, and decide between Mr.
Magee and his calumniators. He, at least, has this advantage, that your
verdict cannot alter the nature of things; and that the public must see
and feel this truth, that the present prosecution is directed against
the discussion of the conduct towards the public, of men confided with
public authority; that this is a direct attack upon the right to call
the attention of the people to the management of the people’s affairs,
and that, by your verdict of conviction, it is intended to leave no
peaceful or unawed mode of redress for the wrongs and sufferings of the
people.
But I will not detain you on these obvious topics. We draw to a close,
and I hurry to it. This sentence is said to be particularly libellous:
“His party would have been proud of him; his friends would have
praised (they need not have flattered him), and his enemies, though
they might have regretted, must have respected his conduct; from the
worst quarter there would have been some small tribute of praise; from
none any great portion of censure; and his administration, though not
popular, would have been conducted with dignity, and without offence.
This line of conduct he has taken care to avoid; his original character
for moderation he has forfeited; he can lay no claims to any merits for
neutrality, nor does he even deserve the cheerless credit of defensive
operations. He has begun to act; he has ceased to be a dispassionate
chief governor, who views the wickedness and the folly of faction with
composure and forbearance, and stands, the representative of majesty,
aloof from the contest. He descends; he mixes with the throng; he
becomes personally engaged, and having lost his temper, calls forth his
private passions to support his public principles; he is no longer an
indifferent viceroy, but a frightful partisan of an English ministry,
whose base passions he indulges--whose unworthy resentments he
gratifies, and on whose behalf he at present canvasses.”
Well, gentlemen, and did he not canvass on behalf of the ministry?
Was there a titled or untitled servant of the Castle who was not
despatched to the south to vote against the popular, and for the
ministerial candidates? Was there a single individual within the
reach of his Grace that did not vote against Prittie and Matthew, in
Tipperary, and against Hutchinson, in Cork? I have brought with me some
of the newspapers of the day, in which this partisanship in the Lord
Lieutenant is treated by Mr. Hutchinson in language so strong and so
pointed, that the words of this publication are mildness and softness
itself when compared with that language. I shall not read them for you,
because I should fear that you may imagine I unnecessarily identified
my client with the violent but the merited reprobation poured upon the
scandalous interference of our government with those elections.
I need not, I am sure, tell you that any interference by the Lord
Lieutenant with the purity of the election of members to serve in
Parliament, is highly unconstitutional, and highly criminal; he is
doubly bound to the most strict neutrality; first, as a peer, the law
prohibits his interference; secondly, as representative of the crown,
his interference in elections is an usurpation of the people’s rights;
it is, in substance and effect, high treason against the people, and
its mischiefs are not the less by reason of there being no punishment
affixed by the law to this treason.
If this offence, gentlemen, be of daily occurrence--if it be frequently
committed, it is upon that account only the more destructive to our
liberties, and, therefore, requires the more loud, direct, and frequent
condemnation: indeed, if such practices be permitted to prevail, there
is an end of every remnant of freedom; our boasted constitution becomes
a mockery and an object of ridicule, and we ought to desire the manly
simplicity of unmixed despotism. Will the Attorney-General--will his
colleague, the Solicitor-General, deny that I have described this
offence in its true colors? Will they attempt to deny the interference
of the Duke of Richmond in the late elections? I would almost venture
to put your verdict upon this, and to consent to a conviction, if any
person shall be found so stocked with audacity, as to presume publicly
to deny the interference of his Grace in the late elections, and his
partisanship in favor of the ministerial candidates. Gentlemen, if
that be denied, what will you, what can you think of the veracity of
the man who denies it? I fearlessly refer the fact to you; on that
fact I build. This interference is as notorious as the sun at noonday;
and who shall venture to deny that such interference is described by
a soft term when it is called partisanship? He who uses the influence
of the executive to control the choice of the representatives of the
people, violates the first principles of the constitution, is guilty of
political sacrilege, and profanes the very sanctuary of the people’s
rights and liberties; and if he should not be called a partisan, it is
only because some harsher and more appropriate term ought to be applied
to his delinquency.
I will recall to your minds an instance of violation of the
constitution, which will illustrate the situation of my client, and
the protection which, for your own sakes, you owe him. When, in 1687,
King James removed several Protestant rectors in Ireland from their
churches, against law and justice, and illegally and unconstitutionally
placed Roman Catholic clergymen in their stead, would any of you be
content that he should be simply called a partisan? No, gentlemen; my
client and I--Catholic and Protestant though we be--agree perfectly
in this, that partisan would have been too mild a name for him, and
that he should have been branded as a violator of law, as an enemy to
the constitution, and as a crafty tyrant who sought to gratify the
prejudices of one part of his subjects, that he might trample upon the
liberties of all. And what, I would fain learn, could you think of the
Attorney-General who prosecuted, or of the judge who condemned, or
of the jury who convicted a printer for publishing to the world this
tyranny--this gross violation of law and justice? But how would your
indignation be roused, if James had been only called a partisan, and
for calling him a partisan a Popish jury had been packed, a Popish
judge had been selected, and that the printer, who, you will admit,
deserved applause and reward, met condemnation and punishment!
Of _you_--of _you_, shall _this story be told_, if you convict Mr.
Magee. The Duke has interfered in elections; he has violated the
liberties of the subject; he has profaned the very temple of the
constitution; and he who has said that in so doing he was a partisan,
from your hands expects punishment.
Compare the kindred offences: James deprived the Protestant rectors of
their livings; he did not persecute, nor did he interfere with their
religion; for tithes, and oblations, and glebes, and church lands,
though solid appendages to any church, are no part of the Protestant
religion. The Protestant religion would, I presume--and for the honor
of human nature I sincerely hope--continue its influence over the human
mind without the aid of those extrinsic advantages. Its pastors would,
I trust and believe, have remained true to their charge, without the
adventitious benefits of temporal rewards; and, like the Roman Catholic
Church, it might have shone forth a glorious example of firmness in
religion, setting persecution at defiance. James did not attack the
Protestant religion; I repeat it; he only attacked the revenues of
the Protestant Church; he violated the law and the constitution, in
depriving men of that property, by his individual authority, to which
they had precisely the same right with that by which he wore his crown.
But is not the controlling the election of members of Parliament a
more dangerous violation of the constitution? Does it not corrupt the
very sources of legislation, and convert the guardians of the state
into its plunderers? The one was a direct and undisguised crime,
capable of being redressed in the ordinary course of the law, and
producing resistance by its open and plain violation of right and of
law; the other disguises itself in so many shapes, is patronized by so
many high examples, and is followed by such perfect security, that it
becomes the first duty of every man who possesses any reverence for the
constitution, or any attachment to liberty, to lend all his efforts to
detect, and, if possible, to punish it.
To any man who loved the constitution or freedom, I could safely appeal
for my client’s vindication; or if any displeasure could be excited
in the mind of such a man, it would arise because of the forbearance
and lenity of this publication. But the Duke is called a frightful
partisan. Granted, gentlemen, granted. And is not the interference I
have mentioned frightful? Is it not terrific? Who can contemplate it
without shuddering at the consequences which it is likely to produce?
What gentler phrase--what ladylike expression should my client use? The
constitution is sought to be violated, and he calls the author of that
violation a frightful partisan. Really, gentlemen, the fastidiousness
which would reject this expression would be better employed in
preventing or punishing crime, than in dragging to a dungeon the man
who has the manliness to adhere to truth, and to use it. Recollect
also--I cannot repeat it too often--that the Attorney-General told you
that “the liberty of the Press was the best protection of the people
against the government.” Now, if the constitution be violated--if the
purity of election be disturbed by the executive, is not this precisely
the case when this protection becomes necessary? It is not wanted,
nor can the Press be called a protector, so long as the government
is administered with fidelity, care, and skill. The protection of
the Press is requisite only when integrity, diligence, or judgment
do not belong to the administration; and that protection becomes
the more necessary in the exact proportion in which these qualities
are deficient. But, what protection can it afford if you convict in
this instance? For, by doing so you will decide that nothing ought
to be said against that want of honesty, or of attention, or of
understanding; the more necessary will the protection of the Press
become, the more unsafe will it be to publish the truth; and in the
exact proportion in which the Press might be useful, will it become
liable to punishment. In short, according to the Attorney-General’s
doctrine, when the Press is “best employed and wanted most,” it will
be most dangerous to use it. And thus, the more corrupt and profligate
any administration may be, the more clearly can the public prosecutor
ascertain the sacrifice of his selected victim. And call you this
protection? Is this a protector who must be disarmed the moment danger
threatens, and is bound a prisoner the instant the fight has commenced?
Here I should close the case--here I should shortly recapitulate my
client’s defence, and leave him to your consideration; but I have
been already too tedious, and shall do no more than recall to your
recollection the purity, the integrity, the entire disinterestedness of
Mr. Magee’s motives. If money were his object, he could easily procure
himself to be patronized and salaried; but he prefers to be persecuted
and discountenanced by the great and powerful, because they cannot
deprive him of the certain expectation that his exertions are useful to
his long-suffering, ill-requited country.
He is disinterested, gentlemen; he is honest; the Attorney-General
admitted it, and actually took the trouble of administering to him
advice how to amend his fortune and save his person. But the advice
only made his youthful blood mantle in that ingenious countenance,
and his reply was painted in the indignant look that told the
Attorney-General he might offer wealth, but he could not bribe--that he
might torture, but he could not terrify! Yes, gentlemen, firm in his
honesty, and strong in the fervor of his love of Ireland, he fearlessly
awaits your verdict, convinced that even you must respect the man whom
you are called upon to condemn. Look to it, gentlemen; consider whether
an honest, disinterested man shall be prohibited from discussing public
affairs; consider whether all but flattery is to be silent--whether the
discussion of the errors and the capacities of the ministers is to be
closed forever. Whether we are to be silent as to the crimes of former
periods, the follies of the present, and the credulity of the future;
and, above all, reflect upon the demand that is made on you to punish
the canvassing of abstract principles.
Has the Attorney-General succeeded? Has he procured a jury so fitted
to his object, as to be ready to bury in oblivion every fault and
every crime, every error and every imperfection of public men,
past, present, and future--and who shall, in addition, silence any
dissertation on the theory or principle of legislation? Do, gentlemen,
go this length with the prosecutor and then venture on your oaths. I
charge you to venture to talk to your families of the venerable liberty
of the Press--the protection of the people against the vices of the
government.
I should conclude, but the Attorney-General compels me to follow him
through another subject.[6]
* * * * *
Let me transport you from the heat and fury of domestic politics; let
me place you in a foreign land; you are Protestants--with your good
leave, you shall, for a moment, be Portuguese, and Portuguese is now an
honorable name, for right well have the people of Portugal fought for
their country, against the foreign invader. Oh! how easy to procure a
similar spirit, and more of bravery, amongst the people of Ireland! The
slight purchase of good words, and a kindly disposition, would convert
them into an impenetrable guard for the safety of the Throne and the
State. But advice and regret are equally unavailing, and they are
doomed to calumny and oppression, the reality of persecution, and the
mockery of justice, until some fatal hour shall arrive which may preach
wisdom to the dupes, and menace with punishment the oppressor.
In the meantime I must place you in Portugal. Let us suppose for
an instant that the Protestant religion is that of the people of
Portugal--the Catholic, that of the government--that the house of
Braganza has not reigned, but that Portugal is still governed by the
viceroy of a foreign nation, from whom no kindness, no favor, has
ever flowed, and from whom justice has rarely been obtained, and upon
those unfrequent occasions, not conceded generously, but extorted by
force, or wrung from distress by terror and apprehension, in a stinted
measure and ungracious manner; you, Protestants, shall form, not as
with us in Ireland, nine tenths, but some lesser number--you shall be
only four fifths of the population; and all the persecution which you
have yourselves practised here upon Papists, whilst you, at the same
time, accused the Papists of the crime of being persecutors, shall glow
around; your native land shall be to you the country of strangers;
you shall be aliens in the soil that gave you birth, and whilst every
foreigner may, in the land of your forefathers, attain rank, station,
emolument, honors, you alone shall be excluded; and you shall be
excluded for no other reason but a conscientious abhorrence to the
religion of your ancestors.
Only think, gentlemen, of the scandalous injustice of punishing you
because you are Protestants. With what scorn--with what contempt do
you not listen to the stale pretences--to the miserable excuses by
which, under the name of state reasons and political arguments, your
exclusion and degradation are sought to be justified. Your reply is
ready--“perform your iniquity--men of crimes,” (you exclaim), “be
unjust--punish us for our fidelity and honest adherence to truth, but
insult us not by supposing that your reasoning can impose upon a single
individual either of us or of yourselves.” In this situation let me
give you a viceroy; he shall be a man who may be styled--by some person
disposed to exaggerate, beyond bounds, his merits, and to flatter him
more than enough--“an honorable man and a respectable soldier,” but, in
point of fact, he shall be of that little-minded class of beings who
are suited to be the plaything of knaves--one of those men who imagine
they govern a nation, whilst in reality they are but the instruments
upon which the crafty play with safety and with profit. Take such
a man for your viceroy--Protestant Portuguese. We shall begin with
making this tour from Tralos Montes to the kingdom of Algesiras--as
one amongst us should say, from the Giant’s Causeway to the kingdom
of Kerry. Upon his tour he shall affect great candor and good-will
to the poor, suffering Protestants. The bloody anniversaries of the
inquisitorial triumphs of former days shall be for a season abandoned,
and over our inherent hostility the garb of hypocrisy shall, for a
season, be thrown. Enmity to the Protestant shall become, for a moment,
less apparent; but it will be only the more odious for the transitory
disguise.
The delusion of the hour having served its purpose, your viceroy shows
himself in his native colors; he selects for office, and prefers for
his pension list, the men miserable in intellect, if they be but
virulent against the Protestants; to rail against the Protestant
religion--to turn its holiest rites into ridicule--to slander the
individual Protestants, are the surest, the only means to obtain his
favor and patronage. He selects from his Popish bigots some being
more canine than human, who, not having talents to sell, brings to
the market of bigotry his impudence--who, with no quality under
heaven but gross, vulgar, acrimonious, disgustful, and shameless
abuse of Protestantism to recommend him, shall be promoted to some
accountant-generalship, and shall riot in the spoils of the people
he traduces, as it were to crown with insult the severest injuries.
This viceroy selects for his favorite privy councillor some learned
doctor, _half lawyer, half divine, an entire brute_, distinguished
by the unblushing repetition of calumnies against the Protestants.
This man has asserted that Protestants are perjurers and murderers in
principle--that they keep no faith with Papists, but hold it lawful
and meritorious to violate every engagement, and commit every atrocity
towards any person who happens to differ with Protestants in religious
belief. This man raves thus, in public, against the Protestants, and
has turned his ravings into large personal emoluments. But whilst he
is the oracle of minor bigots, he does not believe himself; he has
selected for the partner of his tenderest joys, of his most ecstatic
moments--he has chosen for the intended mother of his children, for the
sweetener and solace of his every care, a Protestant, gentlemen of the
jury.
Next to the vile instruments of bigotry, his accountant-general and
privy councillor, we will place his acts. The Protestants of Portugal
shall be exposed to insult and slaughter; an Orange party--a party of
Popish Orangemen shall be supposed to exist; they shall have liberty
to slaughter the unarmed and defenceless Protestants, and as they
sit peaceably at their firesides. They shall be let loose in some
Portuguese district, called Monaghan; they shall cover the streets of
some Portuguese town of Belfast with human gore; and in the metropolis
of Lisbon, the Protestant widow shall have her harmless child murdered
in the noon day and his blood shall have flowed unrequited, because
his assassin was very loyal when he was drunk, and had an irresistible
propensity to signalize his loyalty by killing Protestants. Behold,
gentlemen, this viceroy depriving of command, and staying the promotion
of, every military man who shall dare to think Protestants men, or who
shall presume to suggest that they ought not to be prosecuted. Behold
this viceroy promoting and rewarding the men who insulted and attempted
to degrade the first of your Protestant nobility. Behold him in
public, the man I have described.
In his personal concerns he receives an enormous revenue from the
people he thus misgoverns. See in his management of that revenue a
parsimony at which even his enemies blush. See the paltry sum of a
single joe[7] refused to any Protestant charity, while his bounty
is unknown even at the Popish institutions for benevolent purposes.
See the most wasteful expenditure of the public money--every job
patronized--every profligacy encouraged. See the resources of Portugal
diminished. See her discords and her internal feuds increased. And,
lastly, behold the course of justice perverted and corrupted.
It is thus, gentlemen, the Protestant Portuguese seek to obtain relief
by humble petition and supplication. There can be no crime surely for
a Protestant, oppressed because he follows a religion which is, in his
opinion, true, to endeavor to obtain relief by mildly representing to
his Popish oppressors, that it is the right of every man to worship
the Deity according to the dictates of his own conscience; to state
respectfully to the governing powers that it is unjust, and may be
highly impolitic, to punish men, merely because they do not profess
Popery, which they do not believe; and to submit, with all humility,
that to lay the burdens of the state equally, and distribute its
benefits partially, is not justice, but, although sanctioned by the
pretence of religious zeal, is, in truth, iniquity, and palpably
criminal. Well, gentlemen, for daring thus to remonstrate, the
Protestants are persecuted. The first step in the persecution is
to pervert the plain meaning of the Portuguese language, and a law
prohibiting any _disguise_ in apparel, shall be applied to the ordinary
_dress_ of the individual; it reminds one of _pretence_ and _purpose_.
To carry on these persecutions, the viceroy chooses for his first
inquisitor the descendant of some Popish refugee--some man with an
hereditary hatred to Protestants; he is not the son of an Irishman,
this refugee inquisitor--no, for the fact is notorious that the Irish
refugee Papists were ever distinguished for their liberality, as well
as for their gallantry in the field and talent in the cabinet. This
inquisitor shall be, gentlemen, a descendant from one of those English
Papists, who was the dupe or contriver of the Gunpowder Plot! With
such a chief inquisitor, can you conceive anything more calculated to
rouse you to agony than the solemn mockery of your trial? This chief
inquisitor begins by influencing the judges out of court; he proceeds
to inquire out fit men for his interior tribunal, which, for brevity,
we will call a jury. He selects his juries from the most violent of
the Popish Orangemen of the city, and procures a conviction against
law and common sense, and without evidence. Have you followed me,
gentlemen? Do you enter into the feelings of Protestants thus insulted,
thus oppressed, thus persecuted--their enemies and traducers promoted,
and encouraged, and richly rewarded--their friends discountenanced and
displaced--their persons unprotected, and their characters assailed
by hired calumniators--their blood shed with impunity--their revenues
parsimoniously spared to accumulate for the individual, wastefully
squandered for the state--the emblems of discord, the war-cry of
disunion, sanctioned by the highest authority, and Justice herself
converted from an impartial arbitrator into a frightful partisan?
Yes, gentlemen, place yourselves as Protestants under such a
persecution. Behold before you this chief inquisitor, with his
prejudiced tribunal--this gambler, with a loaded die; and now say what
are your feelings--what are your sensations of disgust, abhorrence,
affright? But if at such a moment some ardent and enthusiastic Papist,
regardless of his interests, and roused by the crimes that were thus
committed against you, should describe, in measured, and cautious,
and cold language, scenes of oppression and iniquity--if he were to
describe them, not as I have done, but in feeble and mild language,
and simply state the facts for your benefit and the instruction of
the public--if this liberal Papist, for this, were dragged to the
Inquisition, as for a crime, and menaced with a dungeon for years, good
and gracious God! how would you revolt at and abominate the men who
could consign him to that dungeon! With what an eye of contempt, and
hatred, and despair, would you not look at the packed and profligate
tribunal which could direct punishment against him who deserved
rewards! What pity would you not feel for the advocate who heavily,
and without hope, labored in his defence! and with what agonized and
frenzied despair would you not look to the future destinies of a land
in which perjury was organized and from which humanity and justice had
been forever banished!
With this picture of yourselves in Portugal, come home to us in
Ireland; say, is that a crime, when applied to Protestants, which is a
virtue and a merit when applied to Papists? Behold how we suffer here;
and then reflect, that it is principally by reason of your prejudices
against us that the Attorney-General hopes for your verdict. The good
man has talked of his impartiality; he will suppress, he says, the
licentiousness of the Press. I have, I hope, shown you the right of my
client to discuss the public subjects which he has discussed in the
manner they are treated of in the publication before you, yet he is
prosecuted. Let me read for you a paragraph which the Attorney-General
has not prosecuted--which he has refused to prosecute:
“BALLYBAY, July 4, 1813.
“A meeting of the Orange Lodges was agreed on, in consequence
of the manner in which the Catholics wished to have persecuted
the loyalists in this county last year, _when they even murdered
some of them for no other reason than their being yeomen and
Protestants_.”