has Mr. Canning, made them a condition of our liberty? It is not difficult to explain. Because they regard concession as necessary to pass emancipation, though not necessary for the safety of the State. Concession will disarm prejudice-it will take away fear from the fool, and pretext from the knave. The learned Doctor says, that securities are but a pretext: deprive them of it-concession upon our part will pluck out the roots of the antipathies of England. The English are a nation pampered with glory, and their pride must be flattered. The hinges upon which the gates of the constitution are suspended are incrustated with prejudice and bigotry, and concession must be employed to remove their rust before they are opened to us. The Constitution, like the Castle of Necromancy, is guarded with phantoms and chimeras: that ideal monster, Church and State, has been stationed its sentinel; and those phantoms must be dispelled, and that monster must be discomfited, before we can attain the seat of happiness and freedom. The question is thus reduced to a simple form of practical utility. We are to investigate, not whether it is absurd of them to ask, but whether it is wise of us to refuse. This is to be determined by an easy inquiry-would concession be useful in the promotion of our emancipation? I assert that it would; and I appeal to the obvious proof-to the debates in Parliament, and to the petitions against us, almost every one of which is directed against unconditional emancipation.; nor am I surprised at it, for I own I have not that opinion of the wisdom of mankind which would lead me to conclude that their fears are always built upon a just foundation. I have compassion for the prejudices of all men, but especially of an Englishman. What is his education ? He is nursed in a horror for popery-he is taught to hate his neighbour, before he is instructed in the fear of God. When he advances from infancy to childhood, the hunger of his mind is fed with the barbarities of convents: his imagination is conducted down the caverns of inquisitions, and the feeble lamp of reason lowers, and is extinguished in the mental mist and damp that spreads through

the labyrinth of horrors. When he attains maturity, he opens the page of English History, and finds it blackened with the fires of Popish persecution. The learned Doctor has appealed to an unfortunate period of the English History, the reign of John. Let me ask him, whether the perusal of that part of the British annals would not be alone sufficient to consolidate the prejudices against our church, for was not the influence of the Pope the greatest evil of which the Barons complained? Is it then wonderful that when his mind has been thus imbued with hatred, a Protestant should retain, in after-life, those antipathies and those fears which are infused in infancy? Is it matter for surprise that he should look upon Popery with the vague and undefined apprehension with which a child looks upon the dark, and dreads a spectre? He fears-he knows not what-but still he fears. At this the Doctor may, if he thinks proper, be surprised; but if he is, it is at human nature. He may lift up his hands and eyes to heaven, and ask God why he made man so imperfect? It is not our office to inquire whether those fears are rational, but whether they are operative. I will make use of a familiar illustration: what would you think of a traveller who, if he were to meet a mountain in his journey, would sit down at its foot, and instead of endeavouring to ascend it, would enter upon a disquisition why nature had put it in his way? Do we not act thus ? securities are an obstacle in our progress to freedom, and in place of endeavouring to surmount that obstacle, we indulge in invectives against them. And, after all, have we much right to complain of the prejudices of others? have we none ourselves? My Lord, we pursue precisely the same conduct as our opponents. They exclaim 'emancipation without securities will ruin our religion;' we cry out 'emancipation with securities will ruin ours.' 'You have nothing to fear,' cries the Doctor; 'you have nothing to fear, retorts the Protestant.' 'The church is in danger,' exclaims the Parson; 'the church is in danger,' re-echoes the Priest. And how long is this melancholy recrimination to continue? How long is our liberty to be procrastinated?

To what period of futurity are we to defer our country's happiness? Does he expect that, by the cogency of his reasoning, or the splendour of his eloquence, he will be able to defeat prejudice ?

"But we are told, we shall obtain unqualified emancipation at last. At last! He who consents to be a slave one instant after he can be free, deserves to be a slave for ever. But shall we sacrifice our religion? It is not now, my Lord, after ages of persecution, that Roman Catholics will renounce that faith which has been endeared by suffering. It is not in the last agony of human endurance, when heaven is opening on his eyes, that the martyr will pronounce apostacy. But, great as my regard for my religion is, I will not sacrifice my country's freedom to the mere possibility of danger to my religion. This is not a Catholic, it is a Calvinistic resolution. It erects the standard of religious revolt, and calls upon the people to rebel against their spiritual governors. What is become of the learned Doctor's judgment? Could not his sagacity have discovered a sufficient pledge in the integrity of our hierarchy, in the purity of their lives, and the disinterestedness of their motives? What are our clergy to gain by emancipation? Nothing. And is it to be supposed that they will open the door to corruption-become panders to the lust of power, and yield the pure and lovely form of religion to political prostitution? And does he accuse his bishops of this gratuitous kind of guilt? Let me remind him of his own argument, 'What right has Parliament to interfere with religion?' And what right has he to interfere with it? Even if it were exposed to all the perils which he apprehends, there are those whose office is its preservation. Let him remember that he who laid an unconsecrated hand upon the Ark (though it was to prevent its fall) was struck dead. [Loud applause.] But he is not contented with an attack upon our bishops, he is likewise driven, in order that this sagacious resolution may be supported, to the necessity of insulting Henry Grattan by the instructions it contains. That name awakes a

train of exalted thought; and I am happy to have this opportunity of bestowing praise upon the man whose character has of late been vilified by obscure insinuations, for there was none so daring as openly to accuse him. Henry Grattan is truly a great man. When he entered into public life, he found his country without trade and without a legislature; he gave her both her commerce and her independence. Ireland is the creation of his word. It has been said that he was bribed by his country-it was a sublime corruption. His country could not bribe him to do her an injury; he was too much her friend to be her flatterer. Other patriots have given up their lives-he did more, he sacrificed his reputation. Tell me, ye who have beheld him in those wonderful nights when he went forth to fight the battles of his countryye who saw withered by the lightnings of his mind the cohorts of pension and of place-ye who stood by him when he contended for the liberty of Ireland to her last gasp-follow him in his illustrious career-behold him, like the heroes of the Iliad, still protecting her corpse from profanation, and seeking to obtain for her independence an honourable sepulture in the emancipation of her sons-behold him still in arms for Ireland-and tell me, will ye dare to reproach him? Will ye permit this resolution to be flung in his way? Will ye permit the learned Doctor to dictate his duty to him? Is it from Doctor Drumgoole that Henry Grattan is to receive instructions? But it matters not. He is raised above your reach. The imputations which are cast upon him, the clouds which are exhaled from folly and credulity, and with which it is attempted to obscure the setting of his glory, instead of shrouding his splendour in their vapour and their mist, become impurpled with his light, and gain effulgence from the sinking orb. The subject before us, my Lord, is of so complicated a nature that it is impossible, with so little time as must be allotted to each speaker, to treat it with that method and extent which it demands. I must be contented with glancing at the principal topics which it embraces. I cannot refrain from dwelling upon one point, however-I mean the influence of the

Crown, the increase of which is apprehended from the interference of the Government in the nomination of our bishops. It has always appeared to me preposterous to connect the influence of the Crown with Catholic emancipation; and that we are guilty of the same absurdity as our enemies, in associating Catholic emancipation with securities. What is affected by the influence of the Crown? Freedom. Are we free? No. Therefore we are not affected by it. The members of the Established church are affected by it, and I own I am not so solicitous about the liberty of others when I am myself in bondage; nor will I consent to make a sacrifice of my own freedom, lest that of others should be impaired. I care not about the influence of the the Crown." [Here there were strong symptoms of disapprobation, when Lord Ffrench interposed.]

Mr. Sheil continued: "My Lord, you may permit these men to hiss. It does not wound me. They disgrace themselves. But I will repeat, in defiance of all their clamours, the expression of my conviction. I am not afraid of censure, for there is in the heart of every honest man a court of appeal from the tribunal of public opinion. I repeat it, the influence of the Crown has no connexion with emancipation. I would as soon live under a despotism as under the penal code. Under a despotism, we should enjoy the privilege of spilling our blood and paying our taxes, and perhaps obtain reward if we deserved it. There would be no Parliament, indeed; but that would be of little importance, as we cannot now sit in it. I am astonished, therefore, at this confusion of ideas. I am astonished that my friend Mr. O'Connell should have been guilty of it. Is he, too, contented to sacrifice his liberty to that of others? [Mr. O'Connell exclaimed 'Yes'] Yes! admirable philanthropy! but miserable patriotism. What, then, is the gentleman at last contented that his children should be slaves? I return, my Lord, to this resolution. It does not object to an alteration in our church, but it objects to the alteration to be made by the legislature; and if the legislature should propose the very alteration of which you