in hell; and when Master Parez, who was there present with me, asked him who were they, he said the earl's squire was one, but that neither he nor Teling would know their comrade till they all met face to face. Then Master Parez said, 'Wafer, why rave you? you know your comrade.' I know it was not he who bears the blame,' was Wafer's answer; 'for, though it was in the dark we did it, I could see enough to tell that the man who joined us at the door, as we dragged the old man in, was armed at all points, and was lower than myself by the head; whereas, the knight lay asleep on a bench within, and disrobed, with his door bolted, and stands two inches taller,' said he, ‘than I myself;' and, with that, he prayed God to forgive him for bringing an innocent man into such trouble; groaning and lamenting, in a way pitiable to hear."

"And what answer made Parez to that?"

"My lord, he flung out of the room, saying, that he would not hear the church's judgment called in question."

"Where lies he now ?"

of a man unconscious that he spoke aloud-"The waters of vengeance are in my inner parts! Ah! Wafer, I will see you soon now: you shook like a dry husk in the leprosy; but mine is the girdle and the waters of vengeance-for what was it they said? be they girded with the girdle of malediction, and made partakers with Pharaoh, Nero, Herod, and Judas the proditor.' Ah, hell, hell! I too, am the proditor! The waters of vengeance are within me, as marrow in my bones. They are the words of the curse, and to the word it is fulfilling in me. With Dathan and Abiram I shall descend into hell quick! Teling and Wafer, we shall descend into hell quick! Horrible! horrible!— you will know your comrade then, Wafer! you said you would know me when we met face to face at the judgment.-That was the word; and you shook in your leprosy like a dry husk. For what was it they said? Good Lord, send them hunger and thirst, and strike them with the pestilence, that they be consumed and their generation clean eradicate.' The bells are tinkling-faugh! how the candles stink!Ah, sons of Belial, our souls shall be so extinguished, and so shall stink in the nostrils of the Divine vengeance.— Great God, I heard it but once, and I remember every word!" He shuddered, and raised his head, as if to dispel the tremendous recollection by gazing on the objects present, but cast himself forward on his knees the moment he lifted his eyes from the ground, for the archbishop was standing in his robes before him, his hands uplifted in horror and amazement. "Mercy, mercy, mercy!" cried the wretched man, and flung himself forward to clasp the prelate's feet in all the abjectness of prostrate supplication. The archbishop motioned to be left alone with him, and the guards withdrew out of earshot.

In less than a quarter of an hour after, Archbishop Cromer came forth into the courtyard, where the Lord Deputy, with his attendants, was still engaged. "Let Sir John Talbot and his lady come forward," caid Cromer. The knight and Ellen advanced into the circle before the Lord Deputy. "My lord and gentlemen," continued Cromer, "it is known to all of you how this knight has been attainted of the murder of my late brother of Dublin, the

Archbishop Alan. The nature of the evidence which seemed to convict him is also known to you, as well as the tremendous sentence pronounced by the church against him. My lord and gentlemen, in the perpetration of that murder there were three persons concerned; two of them, called Teling and Wafer, of whose guilt there is no doubt, and the third, as has till now been generally supposed, this muchwronged gentleman, Sir John Talbot. My lord and gentlemen, I shall ever count this an auspicious day, in such returning years as God may vouchsafe me, which has seen the truth of this matter at length brought to light. The true murderer, my lord, is discovered: Sir William Brereton is witness of his voluntary confession of the crime: Christopher Parez did the murder, and has confessed it. May I pray you to restrain the louder expression of your amazement, till I shall have done justice, so far as now can be rendered, to this innocent and much-wronged gentleman. Kneel down, Sir John Talbot; and, my lord and gentlemen, I pray you silence. In the name and by the authority of that Heavenly Host, invoked to sanction

the misplaced imprecations of the church, I hereby absolve, exonerate, and clearly free you, John Talbot, knight, from the sentence of excommunication erewhile pronounced against you, for the murder of John Alan, late Archbishop of Dublin, of which crime you have been shown to be manifestly innocent: I restore you to all the rights, honours, and immunities whereof you have been by that misplaced malediction deprived; and I declare your marriage with this lady, Mistress Ellen Dudley, to have been true, binding, and honourable wedlock, from the first. Rise up, Sir John Talbot; you are a free man, by the bounty of his Majesty, whose general act of pardon, for such as have laid down their arms previous to the taking of this castle, is hereby extended to you, if you think fit to avail yourself of its provisions."

"It is very pretty, but what is the use of it?" is the observation of a sensible child when he is shown a fine piece of mechanism. "What is the use of the House of Lords?" is the question put by the self-sufficient radical to the halt thinking Whig, and the half-thinking Whig replies, "Oh fie! what a shocking thing to say; but, after all, what is the use of the House of Lords?" The said radical will now exclaim, "Ah! well, this is an honest kind of Tory; you see he compares us to sensible children." We disclaim all the honours to be derived from this approbation. We make no such comparison, or at least only a comparison of contrast. The child asks to be informed, because he expects to be informed; he seeks to know the use, because he takes for granted that there is an use: he looks on what has cost time, and labour, and the power of man's wisdom, to complete,

as by its existence entitled to the supposition that it is useful until the contrary is proved. He does not think that all that has been done without consulting him must be wrong. He asks and he is rewarded by an explanation. So shall our friend, the Radical; but whether he will be gratified by the expla nation, we do not know, nor indeed do we very anxiously care. We shall proceed then to answer this question; not for the benefit of either of the worthies we have named, but to satisfy the mind of the timid but devout lover of the constitution, who would wish to win the democrat by reason: who would try to charm away the Laodicean fit from a Whig, and who would not even suffer a maniac to be confined until he was persuaded that he was not fit to be at liberty.

The question to which it is our object to furnish an answer, may seem

difficult, because it is new. It is new because it is the result of a state of society hitherto unprecedented; a state wherein the end is forgotten in the means, and man imagines his glory to consist in the creation of the instrument, not in the use to which he applies it. In a state of society like this, it is not surprising than ancient institutions should be despised, and every thing should be decried as useless, and therefore denounced as baneful, which does not produce such a variety of visible effects as to meet the contracted intellects of a class of society, every member of which has a distinct idea of usefulness, compounded of the experience of his own peculiar branch, and the wild theories of his favourite village demagogue. The tailor does not, it is true, demand what is the use of the cobbler ; not because he is checked by the recollection that the latter has as good a right to retort the question, but because, he feels and sees the benefit he derives from the cobbler. Every thing and every person, however, to whom he cannot apply, or rather is not compelled to apply this latter test, he condemns without hesitation as useless.

Upon this principle the numerical majority of the nation will perhaps exclaim, "What is the use of the House

of Lords ?"

If we were called on to reply to this question, as asked by the irreverent, short-sighted, and unprincipled Radical, or his dupe and instrument, the self-sufficient and inconsistent Whig, we would merely say, that as we do not conceive ourselves bound to prove our individual utility in order to entitle us to retain our existence, or even our possessions and privileges; so we do not conceive our selves or any other person entitled to put a question to the peers of England which we would not tolerate to be put to us. This would be our reply to those whom we do not think sufficiently rational to receive conviction from argument, or sufficiently candid to acknowledge that conviction, if received. But we know that there are many really well-disposed and sincere persons who have been annoyed and puzzled by this question. We apprehend the question not to apply to the peers in their individual capacity, rank, or privileges, but to be confined to the effects on the welfare of the nation produced by their

influence as a legislative body and court of judicature.

It is asked, then, "What is the use of the House of Lords ?" We reply by another question, "What is the use of Parliament ?”

If we can establish the point that the influence of the House of Lords does not injure the operations of the legislature, or the comfort and happiness of the subject, it is amply sufficient to silence all pretence of right to interfere with that influence. But we do not intend to rest here; and we think we may with safety pledge ourselves to demonstrate to our readers, both by the principles of reason, by the opinion of the wisest men, and by practical experience, the bold position which we here put forward, that in every thing in which the use and value of parliament consists, the House of Lords have been, and must always be, more useful and more valuable than the House of Commons.

We have asserted that such questions originate in that diseased state of society, which has disposed man, even beyond his natural want, to look rather to the means than to the end. We conceive that this question arises from a certain irrational, but most cominon, idea, that the use of parliament, or of what they in consequence, denominate the useful part of parliament, the House of Commons, is to represent the people. Now, though we were to admit this preposterous theory, we would fearlessly undertake to show, that, even in this sense, the House of Lords is more useful, and more effectually represents the feelings and wishes of that body of the nation in whom the strength of the nation consists, than the House of Commons. But we flatly assert, that to represent the people is not only not the chief use of parliament, but that it may reasonably be doubted, if it forms any the least portion of the utility of that great body; and that it is merely, and comparatively recently, considered requisite as a means, by which that body may be better enabled to legislate for the benefit of the people, as being more acquainted with their wants.

We shall, in the first place, consider the House of Lords merely in their legislative capacity.

The only use and object of parliament is to make beneficial laws. The

their own and other nations, as well as freedom from any strong interest in the points legislate; and such knowledge of the on which they are required to general circumstances of the nation and of the former state of the law, as may render them competent to judge with sufficient accuracy, of the effects likely to ensue from the law they are about to enact. Above all things, it is requisite that they should not consider their rank and power, as a body or as indi. viduals, to depend on the number of laws which they make, in a given time, or on the adventitious circumstance of those laws pleasing or displeasing any particular district or party of the people. Now we challenge the effrontery of the most barefaced Radical, or the plausibility of the most sophistical Whig, to confute the assertion that in every one of these respects the House of Lords is, of all bodies of whom the nation is composed, the best qualified to make judicious laws for the benefit of the community. By their rank, wealth, and habits, they are, at least as far as theory can lead us to suppose, (and let it be remembered that in this part of our article it is with theory we are dealing,) accustomed to a wide range of elegant literature and philosophy; they are obliged by the society in which they intermix, to be acquainted to a considerable extent with the works and opinions of the wisest of all ages. They are almost always sent when young to travel in other countries, to learn the habits, institutions, and sentiments of their inhabitants. Their society beyond their own rank is chiefly composed of those most eminent for talents, and for the use made by them of those talents. They have less interest in the common objects of laws than most classes, as their property and rank is in general fixed, and not liable to the sudden fluctuations of that of the mercantile or professional departments of society, and they are consequently less liable to be influenced in their views by considerations of private advantage and profit, and more likely to view questions according to the principles of right and wrong, and public benefit and injury. Their connexions, acquaintances, and even their residences, being more extensively spread, they are less tempted to derive limited and

partial views from constant intercourse with any one confined social circle, instils a habit of command over themwhile the decorum of their rank early selves, and over the expression, at least, of temper and feeling.

In these countries the peerage is particularly fitted for this office, as while raised by rank above the rest of their fellow subjects, they are yet possessed of none of those privileges which tend to draw an absolute line of demarcation between them and others, and to prevent them from being interested in and acquainted with the welfare of the other classes. Their interest must always be the interest of the nation at large; and while the circumstances we have before mentioned render them more competent to judge of the general good, and less liable to be biassed in forming that judgment, yet these distinctions do not operate to such an extent as to render them unacquainted with the affairs on which that judgment is to be exercised. Lastly, let us consider the source from whence this body is supplied. Generally speaking, every member of it has either himself been, or is descended from a family who have been, eminent for talents, virtues, or heroic qualities.

Thus far we have dwelt on the theory of the constitution, and endeavoured to show, by a short sketch, that as far as this goes the House of Lords are of the whole kingdom the portion best qualified to legislate beneficially for the community. Much more might be said to this effect; but we shall pass on to the more practical part of the subject, and the rather because we do not think that this point, even if fully established, would satisfy the design we have in view, or answer the question to which we have undertaken to reply.

The next branch of our subject leads us to inquire what were the opinions of those who originated the power and authority of parliament; what they conceived to be its design, and how they supposed that design would be most effectually answered.

Certainly no people, from the Athenian to the Arab, ever were more truly free, were more tenacious of their liberty, or took wiser measures to secure it, than our Saxon ancestors: yet there never existed a body of men in whom