The Sun.
London, England, 1829-01-23 00:00:00

ever, that took a prominent, indeed- the leading,
'part in these Assemblages, and would to God that,
like their compeers in intolerance, their conduct
and-their character called for nothing but unadulte-
rated ridicule and contempt ; bet when I compare
their deportment with the high station allotted them
by society—when I contrast their sentiments with
the doctrines, the promulgation of which, as it is
the sole ground, should he the sole end of their
existence —when I remember whose servants they
are—a deeper feeling arises, a feeling of shame, of
horror, and disgust. (Cheers.) I allude to those
men calling themselves ministers of Christ, to
whose exertions the country is mainly indebted foc.
the formation of the Brunswick Clubs. The nation
should remember this trait with gratitude deep and
everlasting. What if these men have renJered the
institution to which they belong, in place of a bless-
ing, a heart-rending curse to Ireland ?—(cheers)—
what if they have wrung the very blood from her
children to pamper their own pride and bestiality ?
what if, in the teeth of their solemn oaths, they
opened no schools, and suffered ignorance to corrode
the land ? what if their apathy and indifference to the
cause they had sworn to advance, called down upon
them a cry of shame loud and universal ? what if
they have proved traitors to their God and scourges j
to their country ? What if they are unknown as
divines,. and laughed at in the worlds of literature
and science ?—be their faults for ever buried in
oblivion; their late exertions have redeemed them
all. To them be the praise—to them be the glory
of having evoked again the demon of intolerance—
of having made the wounds of Ireland bleed afresh
e-e(cheers)--of having thrown fresh ingredients
into t)ie chaldron of national discontent, that was
seireally bubbling and boiling over. Day after day,
speeches of these Reverend Ministers were re-
corded—set, laboured speeches, evidently not the
product of the excitation of the moment, but the
offspring of patient meditation atria laborious study.
With the vulgarity of taste, the poverty of diction,
the blunt and brutal scurrility-displayed in these ela-
borate compositions, I do not quarrel. lam fully
-aware that the black heart is generally attended by
the weak intellect. Providence thus, in his mercy,
neutralizing the suggestions of the one by the im-
potence of the other ; but, as a Christian and a man,
I cannot let the sentiments conveyed pass by with-
out expressing my abhorrence. As a man, I lament
over the degrading form that humanity has assumed
in the persons of beings openly thirsting for
carnage, their fellow creatures' blood; while, as a
Protestant and a Christian, I blush and shudder at
the avowal of sentiments from which an infidel
would revolt with horror. (Loud cheers.) A line
of policy has lately been recommended to the people
of this country, which, considering the high quarter
from whence it comes, is entitled to some degree
of respectful attention. The same hand that wrcte
out the recall of the Marquis of A.nglesea, has
sketched out a course of conduct for the Catholics,
which has, at least, the merit of being original.
The Catholics have been desired to bury their quell-

tion (hear, hear). Coming from an older sta. tes-
rrrm, such advice might possibly be looked on as a
cruel mockery ; but, when I remember, that his
Grace of Wellington is but a child in politics, I
willingly attribute to inexperience, what otherwise
might be referable to a more unworthy feeling. It
i-s as impossible to bury that question, as ultimately
to refuse it. —Duke of Wellington, you have achieved
wonders ! At the terror of your name all Europe
stands aghast. The same number counts your bat-
tles and your victories—you have conquered the
conqueror of kings—you hare repaired the broken
crutch of legitimacy—you have given a Bourbon to
France—a Ferdinand to Spain--but there is one
thing you cannot do in all the pride of victory, and
in all the plenitude of your power, you cannot con-
Aisne the servitude of a people, when once they are
determined to:be free. (Cheers). You may re-
call the Governors in whom they trust, you may
establish martial law, you may revive the bloody
drama of ninety-eight, you may let slip the Homers
:40u1 the Bloodhounds of the North, to worry and
lunt down the people, but you cannot kill the im-
mortal spirit that has taken up its abode in their
hearts, (loud and continued cheers,) you may ex-
terminate, but you cannot enslave. And there is
another thing, however easy it may appear, which
you cannot do, you cannot bury the great question
of Irish liberty ; it is too large, too vital, too godlike
fora temb. Try it my Lord Duke, bury it if you
can, seal up the sqiulchre, sit guard upon it if you
• will, an invisible hand will roll away the stone, and
the redeeming principle will still walk the earth.
The resolution which I have the honour of second-

ins, calls upon the legislature, to apply an imme-
diate remedy to the evils of Ireland—it does more,
it calls for the immediate exertions of every man who
hears ►ue. Look to the progress of the Catholic
question, and tell me whether the moderation of its
friends' has not ever been a stumbling-block in its

way. For more than twenty years succeeding the
Union, the question made but little way; Petitions,
I know, were drawn up and presented, and the annual
farce of the presentation of these petitions, was per-
formed, and orations were matle,and the orator was ad-
vanced, but the cause stood still. The question of Ca-
tholic freedom was looked on in England in somewhat
the same light as a turnpike bill, or attended to as a
good occasion for judging of Irish oratory. All the
time, the fell spirit of Orangeism brooded on the
land—at length the Catholic discovered that if he
would succeed he must put his own shoulders to
the wheel. (Cheers.) The. first stone of the As-
sociation was laid. The nation shook. herself as if
from sleep—the people hearkened with erected
minds to the voice of an assembly calling them to
liberty. See what the exertions of the Catholic
have achieved iii a few years for his cause—he has
made the priest a patriot, the indolent aristocrat an
active labourer in the common cause, the grovelling
serf an independent freeman—he has restored the
purity of election—he has restored submission to the
law—he ha 4 quenched the torch of sedition and
lighted up the lamp of liberty. (Cheers.) He has
interfered (I allow it, Mr. Geulburn,) with the ends
of justice, that justice which gave one law to the
Protestant and another to the Catholic—he has
given his country a space in the thought of men...—
he has compelled England to open her eyes to his
conditiont to discuss if not to redress his grievances-
-he Kts— fold the story of his suffering to Europe,
to America, and called from either hemisphere,
a cry of shame on his oppressors. And, greater
than all this, he has wound up the feelings of
the people to such a pitch of heroism—he bus ex-
cited them to such a straining, such a panting for
freedom, that there can be no rest, no quiescence,
until the question is secured. (Immense cheers.)
Protestants, will you not labour in the glorious
cause ! Hitherto—l speak with the utmost re-
spect--you have dune but little for the Catholic.
I know that as individuals you feel strongly, and
speak warmly, on the subject—that, as members of
Parliament, you have furthered it by your eloquence
and your vote; but I still assert, that as a body,
considering the magnitude of the question, and the
immense, the crowning assistance—your rank,
your wealth, your talent, your virtue could give it, if
properly brought to bear upon it, your exertions on
its behalf have been trifling and insignificant; and I
say that what you have done till now for the Catholic
has been more in the light of the condescension of a
patron than the energetic assistance of a friend.
(Cheers.) Do you ask what you should do ? Look
around you, and circumstances will answer Look
to history, and history will answer ; The activity
of your enemy ( for the Brunswicker eqoally an
enemy to you and the Catholic) never sleeps—there
is no sluggishness, no torpor about him—every nerve is
strained, every engine brought into play; there is
no division of strength in the camp of the Orange-
man ! What, then, shall the friend of intolerance
be up and stirring, and you, the friend of liberty
and Justice,- be torpid and inactive ? T e Protestant
and the Catholic are struggling for ene common
cause. The Protestant and the Catholic are fight-
ing against one common foe. What should they do?
Speak out history ! What they did in 1782—(loud
• cheering)—when they shivered the yoke of Eng-
land, gained a Constitution, and made Ireland e na-