this instant, five millions of her people disqualified account of their faith, and that by a country profess freedom and that under a government calling it christian! You (when I say you, of course I mean, the high-minded people of England, but the men v misgovern us both) seem to have taken out a rov commission in search of grievances abroad, whilst overlook the calamities at your own door, and of y own infliction. You traverse the ocean to emancipate African; you cross the line to convert the Hindoo; } hurl your thunder against the savage Algerine; but y own brethren at home, who speak the same tong acknowledge the same King, and kneel to the sa God, cannot get one visit from your itenerant humani Oh, such a system is almost too abominable for a nar it is a monster of impiety, impolicy, ingratitude, a injustice! The pagan nations of antiquity, scarcely act on snch barbarous principles. Look to ancient Ron with her sword in one hand and her constitution in t other, healing the injuries of conquest with the e brace of brotherhood, and wisely converting the capti into the citizen. Look to her great enemy, the glori Carthaginian, at the foot of the Alps, ranging prisoners round him, and by the politie option captivity or arms, recruiting his legions with the v men whom he had literally conquered into gratitud They laid their foundations deep in the human hea and their success was proportionate to their poli You complain of the violence of the Irish Catholic: < you wonder he is violent? It is the consequence your own infliction

"The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear, The blood will follow where the knife is driven."

Your friendship has been to him worse than hostility; he feels its embrace but by the pressure of his fetters! I am only amazed he is not more violent. He fills your exchequer, he fights your battles, he feeds your clergy from whom he derives no benefit, he shares your burdens, he shares your perils, he shares every thing except your privileges, can you wonder he is violent? No matter what his merit, no matter what his claims, no matter what his services; he sees himself a nominal subject, and a real slave; and his children, the heirs, perhaps of his toils, perhaps of his talents, certainly of his disqualifications-can you wonder he is violent?He sees every pretended obstacle to his emancipation vanished; Catholic Europe your ally, the Bourbon on the throne, the Emperor a captive, the Pope a friend, the aspersions on his faith disproved by his allegiance to you against, alternately, every Catholic potentate in Christendom, and he feels himself branded with hereditary degredation-can you wonder, then, that he is violent? He petitioned humbly; his tameness was construed into a proof of apathy. He petitioned boldly; his remonstrance was considered as an impudent audacity. He petitioned in peace; he was told it was not the time. He petioned in war, he was told it was not the time. A strange interval, a prodigy in politics, a pause between peace and war, which appeared to be just made for him, arose; I allude to the period between the retreat of Louis and the restoration of Bonaparte; he petitioned then, and he was told it was not the time. Oh,

shame! shame! shame! I hope he will petition no moreto a parliament so equivocating. However, I am not sorry they did so equivocate, because I think they have suggested one common remedy for the grievances of both countries, and that remedy is, a REFORM OF THAT PARLIAMENT. Without that, I plainly see, there is no hope for Ireland, there is no salvation for England; they will act towards you as they have done towards us; they will admit your reasoning, they will admire your eloquence, and they will prove their sincerity by a strict perseverance in the impolicy you have exposed, and the profligacy you have deprecated. Look to England at this moment. To what a state have they not reduced her! Over this vast island, for whose wealth the winds of Heaven seemed to blow, covered as she once was with the gorgeous mantle of successful agriculture, all studded over with the gems of art and manufacture, there is now scarce an object but industry rags, and patience in despair; the merchant without a ledger, the fields without a harvest, the shops without a customer, the Exchange deserted, and the Gazette crowded, from the most heart rending comments on that nefarious system, in support of which, peers and contractors, stock-jobbers and sinecurists, in short, the whole trained, collared, pampered, and rapacious pack of ministerial beagles, have been, for half a century, in the most clamorous and discordant uproar! During all this misery how are the pilots of the state employed? Why, in feeding the bloated mammoth of sinecure! in weighing the farthings of some underling's salary! in preparing Ireland for a garrison, and England for a poor-house! in the structure of Chinese palaces! the

in

decoration of dragoons, and the erection of public buildings!!! Oh, it's easily seen we have a saint in the Exchequer! he has studied Scripture to some purpose! the famishing people cry out for bread, and the scriptural minister gives them stones! Such has been the result of the blessed Pitt system, which amid oceans of blood, and eight hundred millions expenditure, has left you, after all your victories, a triumphant dupe, a trophied bankrupt. I have heard before of states ruined by the visitations of Providence, devastated by famine, wasted by fire, overcome by enemies; but never until now did I see a state like England, impoverished by her spoils, and conquered by her successes! She has fought the fight of Europe; she has purchased all its coinable blood; she has subsidized all its dependencies in their own cause; she has conquered by sea, she has conquered by land; she has got peace, and, of course, or the Pitt apostles would not have made peace, she has got her "indemnity for the past, and security for the future," and here she is, after all her vanity and all her victories, surrounded by desolation, like one of the pyramids of Egypt; amid the grandeur of the desert, full of magnificence and death, at once a trophy and a tomb! The heart of any reflecting man must burn within him, when he thinks that the war thus sanguinary in its operations, and confessedly ruinous in its expenditure, was even still more odious in its principle! It was a war avowedly undertaken for the purpose of forcing France out of her undoubted right of choosing her own monarch; a war which uprooted the very foundation of the English constitution; which libelled the most glorious era in

our national annals; which declared tyranny eternal, and announced to the people, amid the thunder of artil lery, that, no matter how aggrieved, their only allowable attitude was that of supplication; which, when it told the French reformer of 1793, that his defeat was just, told the British reformer of 1688, his triumph was treason, and exhibited to history, the terrific farce of a Prince of the House of Brunswick, the creature of the Revolution, OFFERING A HUMAN HECATOMB UPON THE GRAVE OF JAMES THE SECOND!! What else have you done? You have succecded indeed in dethroning Napoleon, and you have dethroned a monarch, who, with all his imputed crimes and vices, shed a splendour around royalty, too powerful for the feeble vision of legitimacy even to bear. He had many faults; I do not seek to palliate them. He deserted his principles; I rejoice that he has suffered. But still let us be generous even in our enmities. How grand was his march! How magnifi. cent his destiny! Say what we will, Sir, he will be the landmark of our times in the eye of posterity. The goal of other men's speed was his starting-post; crowns were his play-things, thrones his footstool; he strode from victory to victory; his path was "a plane of continued elevations." Surpassing the boast of the too confident Roman, he but stamped upon the earth, and not only armed men, but states and dynasties, and arts and sciences, all that mind could imagine, or industry produce, started up, the creation of enchantment. He has fallen-as the late Mr. Whitebread said, "you made him and he unmade himself"-his own ambition was his glorious conqueror. He attempted, with a sublime audacity, to grasp the fires of Heaven, and his heathen