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you, flog where one will!» Thus it is; you have flogged the Catholic, high, low, here, there and every where, and then you wonder he is not pleased. It is true, that time, experience, and that weariness which attends even the exercise of barbarity, have taught you to flog a little more gently, but still you continue to lay on the lash, and will so continue, till perhaps the rod may be wrested from your hands, and applied to the backs of yourselves and your posterity.

humanely learn to become cannibals; it would be less disgusting that they were brought up to devour the dead, than persecute the living. Schools do you call them? call them rather dunghills, where the viper of intolerance deposits her young, that, when their teeth are cut and their poison is mature, they may issue forth, filthy and venomous, to sting the Catholic. But are these the doctrines of the Church of England, or of churchmen? No; the most enlightened churchmen are of a different opinion. What says Paley? «I perceive It was said by somebody in a former debate (I forget no reason why men of different religious persuasions, by whom, and am not very anxious to remember), if should not sit upon the same bench, deliberate in the the Catholics are emancipated, why not the Jews? If same council, or fight in the same ranks, as well as men this sentiment was dictated by compassion for the Jews, of various religious opinions, upon any controverted it might deserve attention, but as a sneer against the topic of natural history, philosophy, or ethics.» It may Catholic, what is it but the language of Shylock transbe answered that Paley was not strictly orthodox; Iferred from his daughter's marriage to Catholic emanknow nothing of his orthodoxy, but who will deny that he was an ornament to the church, to human nature, to christianity?

I shall not dwell upon the grievance of tithes, so severely felt by the peasantry, but it may be proper to

cipation?

Would any of the tribe of Barralbas

Should have it rather than a Christian.

for his preference of the Jews.

I presume a Catholic is a Christian, even in the opiobserve that there is an addition to the burthen, a pernion of him whose taste only can be called in question centage to the gatherer, whose interest it thus becomes to rate them as highly as possible; and we know that in many large livings in Ireland, the only resident Protestants are the tithe proctor and his family.

Among many causes of irritation, too numerous for recapitulation, there is one in the militia not to be passed over, I mean the existence of Orange lodges amongst the privates: can the officers deny this? And if such lodges do exist, do they, can they tend to promote harmony amongst the men, who are thus individually separated in society, although mingled in the ranks? And is this general system of persecution to be permitted, or is it to be believed that with such a system the Catholics can or ought to be contented? If they are, they belie human nature; they are then, indeed, unworthy to be any thing but the slaves you have made them. The facts stated are from most respectable authority, or I should not have dared in this place, or any place, to hazard this avowal. If exaggerated, there are plenty, as willing as I believe them to be unable, to disprove them. Should it be objected that I never was in Ireland, I beg leave to observe, that it is as easy to know something of Ireland without having been there, as it appears with some to have been born, bred and cherished there, and yet remain ignorant of its best

interests.

But there are, who assert that the Catholics have already been too much indulged! See (cry they) what has been done we have given them one entire college, we allow them food and raiment, the full enjoyment of the elements, and leave to fight for us as long as they have limbs and lives to offer; and yet they are never to be satisfied! Generous and just declaimers! To this, and to this only, amounts the whole of your arguments, when stript of their sophistry. These personages remind me of the story of a certain drummer, who being called upon in the course of duty to administer punishmeut to a friend tied to the halberts, was requested to flog high; he did-to flog low, he did-to flog ia the middle, he did-high, low, down the middle, and up again, but all in vain, the patient continued his complaints with the most provoking pertinacity, until the drummer, exhausted and angry, flung down his scourge, exclaiming, «<the devil burn you, there's no pleasing

It is a remark often quoted of Dr Johnson (whom I take to be almost as good authority as the gentle apostle of intolerance, Dr Duigenan), that he who could entertain serious apprehensions of danger to the Church in these times, would have «cried fire in the deluge. This is more than a metaphor, for a remnant of these antediluvians appear actually to have come down to us, with fire in their mouths and water in their brains, to disturb and perplex mankind with their whimsical outcries. And as it is an infallible symptom of that distressing malady with which I conceive them to be afflicted (so any doctor will inform your Lordships) for the unhappy invalids to perceive a flame perpetually flashing before their eyes, particularly when their eyes are shut (as those of the persons to whom I allude have long been), it is impossible to convince these poor crea tures, that the fire against which they are perpetually warning us and themselves, is nothing but an ignis fatuus of their own drivelling imaginations. What rhubarb, senna, or «what purgative drug can scour that fancy thence?»-It is impossible: they are given over, theirs is the true

Caput insanabile tribus Anticyris.

These are your true Protestants. Like Bayle, who protested against all sects whatsoever, so do they protest against Catholic petitions, Protestant petitions, all redress, all that reason, humanity, policy, justice, and common sense, can urge against the delusions of their absurd delirium. These are the persons who reverse the fable of the mountain that brought forth a mouse, they are the mice who conceive themselves in labour with mountains.

To return to the Catholics, suppose the Irish were actually contented under their disabilities, suppose them capable of such a bull as not to desire deliverance, ought we not to wish it for ourselves? Have we nothing to gain by their emancipation? What resources have been wasted, what talents have been lost, by the selfish system of exclusion! You already know the value of Irish aid; at this moment the defence of England is intrusted to the Irish militia; at this moment, while the starving people are rising in the fierceness of de

spair, the Irish are faithful to their trust. But till equal energy is imparted throughout by the extension of freedom, you cannot enjoy the full benefit of the strength which you are glad to interpose between you and destruction. Ireland has done much, but will do more. At this moment the only triumph obtained through long years of continental disaster has been achieved by an Irish general; it is true he is not a Catholic; had he been so, we should have been deprived of his exertions; but I presume no one will assert that his religion would have impaired his talents, or diminished his patriotism, though in that case he must have conquered in the ranks, for he never could have commanded an army.

But while he is fighting the battles of the Catholics abroad, his noble brother has this night advocated their cause, with an eloquence which I shall not depreciate by the humble tribute of my panegyric, whilst a third of his kindred, as unlike as unequal, has been combating against his catholic brethren in Dublin, with circular letters, edicts, proclamations, arrests, and dispersions all the vexatious implements of petty warfare that could be wielded by the mercenary guerillas of government, clad in the rusty armour of their obsolete statutes. Your lordships will doubtless, divide new honours between the saviour of Portugal, and the dispenser of delegates. It is singular, indeed, to observe the difference between our foreign and domestic poli- | cy; if Catholic Spain, faithful Portugal, or the no less Catholic and faithful king of the one Sicily (of which, by the by, you have lately deprived him), stand in need of succour, away goes a fleet and an army, an ambassador and a subsidy, sometimes to fight pretty hardly, generally to negotiate very badly, and always to pay very dearly for our Popish allies. But let four millions of fellow-subjects pray for relief, who fight and pay and labour in your behalf, they must be treated as aliens, and although their « father's house has many mansions,» there is no resting-place for them. Allow me to ask, are you not fighting for the emancipation of Ferdinand the Seventh, who certainly is a fool, and consequently, in all probability, a bigot; and have you more regard for a foreign sovereign than your own fellow-subjects, who are not fools, for they know your interest better than you know your own; who are not bigots for they return you good for evil; but who are in worse durance than the prison of an usurper, inasmuch as the fetters of the mind are more galling than those of the body.

"

Upon the consequences of your not acceding to the claims of the petitioners, I shall not expatiate; you know them, you will feel them, and your children's children when you are passed away. Adieu to that Union so called, as Lucus a non lucendo,» a Union from never uniting, which, in its first operation, gave a death-blow to the independence of Ireland, and in its last may be the cause of her eternal separation from this country. If it must be called a Union, it is the union of the shark with his prey; the spoiler swallows up his victim, and thus they become one and indiviThus has Great Britain swallowed up the parliament, the constitution, the independence of Ireland, and refuses to disgorge even a single privilege, although for the relief of her swollen and distempered body politic.

sible.

And now, my lords, before I sit down, will his ma

jesty's ministers permit me to say a few words, not on their merits, for that would be superfluous, but on the degree of estimation in which they are held by the people of these realms. The esteem in which they are held has been boasted of in a triumphant tone on a late occasion within these walls, and a comparison instituted between their conduct, and that of noble lords on this side of the house.

What portion of popularity may have fallen to the share of my noble friends (if such I may presume to call them), I shall not pretend to ascertain; but that of his majesty's ministers it were vain to deny. It is, to be sure, a little like the wind, «no one knows whence it cometh or whither it goeth,» but they feel it, they enjoy it, they boast of it. Indeed, modest and unostentatious as they are, to what part of the kingdom, even the most remote, can they flee to avoid the triumph which pursues them? If they plunge into the midland counties, there they will be greeted by the manufacturers with spurned petitions in their hands, and those halters round their necks recently voted in their behalf, imploring blessings on the heads of those who so simply, yet ingeniously contrived to remove them from their miseries in this to a better world. If they journey on to Scotland, from Glasgow to Johnny Groat's, every where will they receive similar marks of approbation. If they take a trip from Portpatrick to Donaghadee, there will they rush at once into the embraces of four Catholic millions, to whom their vote of this night is about to endear them for ever. When they return to the metropolis, if they can pass under Temple Bar without unpleasant sensations at the sight of the greedy niches over that ominous gateway, they cannot escape the acclamations of the livery, and the more tremulous, but not less sincere applause, the blessings, «not loud but deep» of bankrupt merchants and doubting stock-holders. If they look to the army, what wreaths, not of laurel, but of night-shade, are preparing for the heroes of Walcheren! It is true, there are few living deponents left to testify to their merits on that occasion; but a « cloud of witnesses» are gone above from that gallant army which they so generously and piously dispatched, to recruit the «noble army of martyrs.»>

What if, in the course of this triumphal career(in which they will gather as many pebbles as Caligula's army did on a similar triumph, the prototype of their own), they do not perceive any of those memorials which a grateful people erect in honour of their benefactors; what although not even a sign-post will condescend to depose the Saracen's head in favour of the likeness of the conquerors of Walcheren, they will not want a picture who can always have a caricature; or regret the omission of a statue who will so often see themselves exalted in effigy. But their popularity is not limited to the narrow bounds of an island; there are other countries where their measures, and, above all, their conduct to the Catholics, must render them pre-eminently popular. If they are beloved here, in France they must be adored. There is no measure more repugnant to the designs and feelings of Bonaparte than Catholic emancipation; no line of conduct more propitious to his projects, than that which has been pursued, is pursuing, and, I fear, will be pursued, towards Ireland. What is England without Ireland, and what is Ireland without the Catholics? It is on the basis of your tyranny Napoleon

equally mindful of the deference to be paid to this House. The petitioner states, amongst other matter of equal, if not greater importance, to all who are British in their feelings, as well as blood and birth, that on the 21st January, 1813, at Huddersfield, himself and six other persons, who, on hearing of his arrival, had waited on him merely as a testimony of respect, were seized by a military and civil force, and kept in close custody for several hours, subjected to gross and abusive insinuations from the commandingofficer relative to the character of the petitioner; that he the petitioner was finally carried before a magistrate; and not released till an examination of his papers proved that there was not only no just, but not even statuta

hopes to build his own. So grateful must oppression of the Catholics be to his mind, that doubtless (as he has lately permitted some renewal of intercourse) the next cartel will convey to this country cargoes of Sèvres china and blue ribands (things in great request, and of equal value at this moment), blue ribands of the legion of honour for Dr Duigenan and his ministerial disciples. Such is that well-earned popularity, the result of those extraordinary expeditions, so expensive to ourselves, and so useless to our allies; of those singular enquiries, so exculpatory to the accused, and so dissatisfactory to the people; of those paradoxical victories, so honourable, as we are told, to the British name, and so destructive to the best interests of the British nation: above all, such is the reward of a conduct pursued by minis-ble charge against him; and that notwithstanding the ters towards the Catholics.

I have to apologize to the House, who will, I trust, pardon one, not often in the habit of intruding upon their indulgence, for so long attempting to engage their attention. My most decided opinion is, as my vote will be, in favour of the motion.

DEBATE ON MAJOR CARTWRIGHT'S PETITION,
JUNE 1, 1813.

LORD BYRON rose and said:

promise and order from the presiding magistrates of a copy of the warrant against your petitioner, it was afterwards withheld ou divers pretexts, and has never until this hour been granted. The names and condition of the parties will be found in the petition. To the other topics touched upon in the petition, I shall not now advert, from a wish not to encroach upon the time of the House; but I do most sincerely call the attention of your lordships to its general contents—it is in the cause of the parliament and people that the rights of this venerable freeman have been violated, and it is, in my opinion, the highest mark of respect that could be paid to the House, that to your justice, rather than by appeal to any inferior court, he now commits himself. Whatever may be the fate of his remonstrance, it is some satisfaction to me, though mixed with regret for the occasion, that I have this opportunity of publicly stating the obstruction to which the subject is liable, in the prosecution of the most lawful and imperious of his duties, the obtaining by petition reform in parliament. I have shortly stated his 'com

Your Lordships will, I hope, adopt some measure fully to protect and redress him; and not him alone, but the whole body of the people insulted and aggrieved in his person by the interposition of an abused civil, and unlawful military force, between them and their right of petition to their own representatives.

MY LORDS, the petition which I now hold for the purpose of presenting to the House, is one which I humbly conceive requires the particular attention of your lordships, inasmuch as, though signed but by a single individual, it contains statements which (if not disproved) demand most serious investigation. The grievance of which the petitioner complains is neither selfish nor imaginary. It is not his own only, for it has been, and is still felt by numbers. No one with-plaint; the petitioner has more fully expressed it. out these walls, nor indeed within, but may to-morrow be made liable to the same insult and obstruction, in the discharge of an imperious duty for the restoration of the true constitution of these realms by petitioning for reform in parliament. The petitioner, my lords, is a man whose long life has been spent in one unceasing struggle for the liberty of the subject, against that undue influence which has increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished; and, whatever difference of opinion may exist as to his political tenets, few will be found to question the integrity of his intentions. Even now oppressed with years, and not exempt from the infirmities attendant on his age, but still unimpaired in talent, and unshaken in spirit-« frangas non flectes »>he has received many a wound in the combat against corruption; and the new grievance, the fresh insult of which he complains, may inflict another scar, but no dishonour. The petition is sigued by John Cartwright; and it was in behalf of the people and parliament, in the lawful pursuit of that reform in the representation which is the best service to be rendered both to parliament and people, that he encountered the wanton outrage which forms the subject matter of his petition to your lordships. It is couched in firm, yet respectful language in the language of a mau, not regardless of what is due to himself, but, at the same time, I trust,

His Lordship then presented the petition from Major Cartwright, which was read, complaining of the circumstances at Huddersfield, and of interruptions given to the right of petitioning, in several places in the northern parts of the kingdom, and which his lordship moved should be laid on the table.

Several Lords having spoken on the question,

LORD BYRON replied, that he had, from motives of duty, presented this petition to their lordships' consideration. The noble Earl had contended that it was not a petition, but a speech; and that, as it contained no prayer, it should not be received. What was the necessity of a prayer? If that word were to be used in its proper sense, their lordships could not expect that any man should pray to others. He had only to say, that the petition though in some parts expressed strongly perhaps, did not contain any improper mode of address, but was couched in respectful language towards their lordships; he should therefore trust their lordships would allow the petition to be received.

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Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke, Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe, Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,

And fill'd their sign-posts then, like Wellesley now; Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk, Followers of fame, « nine farrow» of that sow: France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier, Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III.

Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,

Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know;
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Dessaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,

Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV.

Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,

And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd; There's no more to be said of Trafalgar, 'Tis with our hero quietly inurn'd, Because the army's grown more popular,

At which the naval people are concern'd: Besides, the prince is all for the land-service, Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V.

Brave men were living before Agamemnon,

And since exceeding valorous and sage,

A good deal like him too, though quite the same none,
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:-I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

Most epic poets plunge in « medias res»
(Horace makes this the heroic turnpike road),
And then your hero tells, whene'er you please,
What went before-by way of episode,
While seated after dinner at his ease,

Beside his mistress in some soft abode,

Palace or garden, paradise or cavern,
Which serves the happy couple for a tavern.

VII.

That is the usual method, but not mine

My way is to begin with the beginning; The regularity of my design

Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning, And therefore I shall open with a line

(Although it cost me half an hour in spinning), Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father, And also of his mother, if

you'd rather.

VIII.

In Seville was he born, a pleasant city,
Famous for oranges and women-he
Who has not seen it will be much to pity,
So says the proverb-and I quite agree;
Of all the Spanish towns is none more pretty,
Cadiz perhaps, but that you soon may see:
Don Juan's parents lived beside the river,
A noble stream, and call'd the Guadalquiver.
IX.

His father's name was Jose-Don, of course,
A true hidalgo, free from every stain
Of Moor or Hebrew blood, he traced his source
Through the most Gothic gentlemen of Spain.
A better cavalier ne'er mounted horse,

Or, being mounted, e'er got down again,
Than Jose, who begot our hero, who
Begot-but that's to come-Well, to renew:
X.

Ilis mother was a learned lady, famed

For every branch of overy science known-
In every christian language ever named,
With virtues equall'd by her wit alone;
She made the cleverest people quite ashamed,
And even the good with inward envy groan,
Finding themselves so very much exceeded
In their own way by all the things that she did.
XI.

Iler memory was a mine: she knew by heart

All Calderon and greater part of Lopé,

So that if any actor miss'd his part,

She could have served him for the prompter's copy:

for her Feinagle's were an useless art,

And he himself obliged to shut up shop-he

Could never make a memory so fine as
That which adorn'd the brain of Donna Inez.

ཊ!

XII.

Iler favourite science was the mathematical,
Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity,
Her wit (she sometimes tried at wit) was Attic all,
Her serious sayings darken'd to sublimity;
In short, in all things she was fairly what I call
A prodigy-her morning dress was dimity,
Her evening silk, or, in the summer, muslin,
And other stuffs, with which I wont stay puzzling.
XIII.

She knew the Latin-that is, « the Lord's prayer,»>
And Greek-the alphabet, I 'm nearly sure;
She read some French romances here and there,
Although her mode of speaking was not pure:
For native Spanish she had no great care,

At least her conversation was obscure; Her thoughts were theorems, her words a problem, As if she deem'd that mystery would ennoble 'em.

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ΧΙΧ.

lle was a mortal of the careless kind,

With no great love for learning, or the learn'd,
Who chose to go where'er he had a mind,
And never dream'd his lady was concern'd:
The world, as usual, wickedly inclined

To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd,
Whisper'd he had a mistress, some said two,
But for domestic quarrels one will do.
XX.

Now Donna Inez had, with all her merit,
A great opinion of her own good qualities;
Neglect, indeed, requires a saint to bear it,
And such indeed she was in her moralities;
But then she had a devil of a spirit,

And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities, And let few opportunities escape

Of getting her liege lord into a scrape.

XXI.

This was an easy matter with a man

Oft in the wrong, and never on his guard; And even the wisest, do the best they can,

Ilave moments, hours, and days, so unprepared, That you might « brain them with their lady's fan;» And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard, And fans turn into falchions in fair hands, And why and wherefore no one understands. XXII.

'Tis pity learned virgins ever wed

With persons of no sort of education,
Or gentlemen who, though well-born and bred,
Grow tired of scientific conversation:

I don't chuse to say much upon this head,

I'm a plain man, and in a single station,

But-oh! ye lords of ladies intellectual,

Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd you all?

XXIII.

Don Jose and his lady quarrell'd—why,

Not any of the many could divine; Though several thousand people chose to try, "T was surely no concern of theirs nor mine:

I loathe that low vice curiosity;

But if there's any thing in which I shine, T is in arranging all my friends' affairs, Not having, of my own, domestic cares. XXIV.

And so I interfered, and with the best

Intentions, but their treatment was not kind; I think the foolish people were possess'd, For neither of them could I ever find, Although their porter afterwards confess'dBut that's no matter, and the worst's behindFor little Juan o'er me threw, down stairs, A pail of housemaid's water unawares.

XXV.

A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing,

And mischief-making monkey from his birth;
His parents ne'er agreed except in doting
Upon the most unquiet imp on earth:
Instead of quarrelling, had they been but both in
Their senses, they'd have sent young master, forth

To school, or had him whipp'd at home, he

To teach him manners for the time to come.

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