a Mahommedan, or embracing the pope. I must say that I have lost all confidence in that man. An honourable and learned member has said that I would sooner sacrifice my principles than be shaved. I tell that honourable and learned gentleman, that I had rather not only be shaved, but have my head shaved off, than forget I am a Protestant-born a Protestant-bred a Protestant-educated a Protestant. And God grant that I may die with similar feelings, and in that faith!" Another illustrious M.P. (Mr. Ferrand) went so far as to say "I solemnly believe, that if her majesty's present government can induce her majesty to attach her signature to this bill, she will sign away her title to the British crown." The bill was also vehemently opposed by the dissenters, who, though not powerfully represented in the House, were a numerous party out-of-doors. The Radicals, as a rule, supported it. If a rigid adherence to the principle, that the church and state ought to be absolutely separated, prevented them from supporting the measure, the more enlightened among them approved it in their hearts, and were grateful to Peel for his courage in proposing it. Mr. Roebuck and Mr. Cobden did not hesitate to vote for it after explaining the reasons which induced them, on this occasion, to depart from their principles. Mr. Bright, in voting against it, felt himself obliged, in his turn, to explain why he had remained faithful to his principle, as he was unwilling either to injure Sir Robert Peel, or to allow himself to be confounded with his enemies. It was in this debate that Disraeli first distinguished himself. As one of the Conservatives, attacking their chief, Guizot justly describes him, at this time, "with a brilliant and fertile intellect, and justly ambitious; but with all the acerbity and restlessness of a man who is seeking his proper rank, and finds it difficult to attain it." The measure was supported by the Whigs. One of them, Mr. Macaulay, who greatly offended his constituents by his vote, thus referred to it on the Edinburgh hustings, July, 1846:-- "My conduct, in the matter I refer to, has displeased many of you. I cannot ask pardon for it; I cannot ask pardon for being in the right. I come here to state it clearly, and to defend it. I speak of the Maynooth grant. It might be not altogether useless to a fair and ample discussion of that interesting subject, if all who express an opinion strongly respecting that grant would take the trouble to inform themselves a little upon the subject. The opinion held with regard to it by many respectable persons, I believe to be, that, in the year 1845, the parliament of the United Kingdom committed a great violation of the sound principles of Protestantism, and endowed an institution for the propagation of popery. The truth is this. Fifty years ago, when Ireland was an independent kingdom, governed by its own king, Lords, and Commons, and when those who preceded you here in Edinburgh had no more voice in the regulation of the affairs of Ireland than of the affairs of France, and when the Irish parliament was strictly and exclusively composed of Protestants, that parliament thought it right to establish this institution for the benefit of the Roman Catholic clergy. Thus this institution was bequeathed by the union to the United Kingdom. It came to us as an institution older than the union, set up by an Irish parliament; and being, moreover, the only act which the Irish parliament, during the 112 years which followed the revolution, had ever passed, giving a sign of sympathy with the body of the people. I do not say-nay, I repudiate the argument-that we are bound to maintain that institution by anything of the nature of a technical treaty; but I say that, when a great and powerful country enters into a treaty, on terms of mutual benefit, with a country much smaller and weaker-when 100 Irish members are sent to sit along with 553 British members, it does become a grave question-a question of high responsibility-a question of justice, how far the stronger of these powers should act against existing institutions in a manner strongly opposed to the sense of the great body of those constituting the weaker nation. I say that your own fathers felt this strongly. When they joined with England, they took every species of precaution against the English introducing a church professing such doctrines as those held by Laud, and since held by a school I need not name, now existing in the church of England. They took every precaution that the united legislature should not lay its hand on those religious institutions which your ancestors prized more dearly than their lives. When they sent forty-five Scotch members to sit with 513 English members-when they sent forty-five presbyterians to sit with 513 prelatists, they took precautions that the 513 should in no way abuse their power. Though there existed nothing of the nature of an absolute treaty, the strongest considerations of justice ought to have induced the parliament of the United Kingdom to pause before abolishing the institutions which the Irish parliament had bequeathed to them. Is it possible that so intelligent a body as the electors of Edinburgh can believe that there was any question of principle in what was actually done regarding this matter last session? It is a mere popular delusion to say that there was any question of principle about it. (Cheers and great hissing.) Principle! When those hisses are interpreted into intelligible sounds, we shall, perhaps, hear some orator who will attempt to show that the difference between £10,000 and £20,000 is a question of principle; that the difference between a college whitewashed and repaired, and one in ruins, is a question of principle; that the difference between a half-filled larder and a full larder, is a question of principle; that the difference between a vote, passed regularly every fifty years, and one which parliament may rescind whenever it thinks fit, is a question of principle. Is it not monstrous? We hear a good deal of talk about the homage that has been paid to idolatry; but that is not the ground of attack. You object to us offering a hecatomb to idolatry, but not to us offering a lamb. You exclaim against a pound being laid on the altar, but you have no objection to a pennyweight. I ask, if such an institution is to be maintained at all, ought it not to be sustained in such a manner as befits an institution which the state does support? This is the principle about which you exclaim-the principle that the state may support a Catholic institution which has servants with arms out at elbow, but not in decent livery—that it may support an institution which has grounds for the recreation of the students; but you will not let it keep a roller-that the institution may keep professors to teach languages and science, provided you pay them lower than a village dominie; and that it might lodge students provided it put them three in a bed. This is what I call, and will call, a popular delusion. And then look at the other side of the account. When this bill was brought in, wisely or unwisely, what were to be the consequences of rejecting it? Have those who clamour so loudly against it ever considered the cost of throwing it out? Have they considered whether this difference of £13,000 a year was worth a civil war ?" If absurd and silly language was used in the House of Commons against the grant to Maynooth, out-of-doors the language was stronger and sillier, and more absurd. Petitions against the obnoxious measure poured in by thousands, signed by upwards of a million of people. "It is high treason against heaven," they said,. "to apply the revenues of a Protestant people to the education of a Catholic clergy. It would be just as unjustifiable to establish a college for the propagation of theft and adultery. He who consents to the Maynooth grant worships the beast, blasphemes against God, is at war with the saints, and crucifies the Lord afresh." "The Prime Minister," said another writer, "has as much sympathy and respect for his fellow-countrymen as the huntsman for the hare, the fisherman for the trout, or the butcher for the oxen that he slaughters. Peel is a novelty. He has invented the art of government by deception. The debate has stripped him of his last rags; public decency requires that he should henceforth conceal himself." The dissenters, who object to all state support of religion, were consistent; but the spectacle presented by the church party was extremely pitiable. Having usurped the emoluments of the Catholics in Ireland, it seemed very mean to turn round and grudge them a small portion. In the Lords, the struggle was not so severe one archbishop and five bishops voted for the grant. It was defended |