Representative British Orations Volume 4 (of 4) / With Introductions and Explanatory Notes

by Unknown

Of you—of you, shall this story be told, if you convict Mr. Magee. The Duke has interfered in elections; he has violated the liberties of the subject; he has profaned the very temple of the constitution; and he who has said that in so doing he was a partisan, from your hands expects punishment.

Compare the kindred offences: James deprived the Protestant rectors of their livings; he did not persecute, nor did he interfere with their religion; for tithes, and oblations, and glebes, and church lands, though solid appendages to any church, are no part of the Protestant religion. The Protestant religion would, I presume—and for the honor of human nature I sincerely hope—continue its influence over the human mind without the aid of those extrinsic advantages. Its pastors would, I trust and believe, have remained true to their charge, without the adventitious benefits of temporal rewards; and, like the Roman Catholic Church, it might have shone forth a glorious example of firmness in religion, setting persecution at defiance. James did not attack the Protestant religion; I repeat it; he only attacked the revenues of the Protestant Church; he violated the law and the constitution, in depriving men of that property, by his individual authority, to which they had precisely the same right with that by which he wore his crown. But is not the controlling the election of members of Parliament a more dangerous violation of the constitution? Does it not corrupt the very sources of legislation, and convert the guardians of the state into its plunderers? The one was a direct and undisguised crime, capable of being redressed in the ordinary course of the law, and producing resistance by its open and plain violation of right and of law; the other disguises itself in so many shapes, is patronized by so many high examples, and is followed by such perfect security, that it becomes the first duty of every man who possesses any reverence for the constitution, or any attachment to liberty, to lend all his efforts to detect, and, if possible, to punish it.

To any man who loved the constitution or freedom, I could safely appeal for my client’s vindication; or if any displeasure could be excited in the mind of such a man, it would arise because of the forbearance and lenity of this publication. But the Duke is called a frightful partisan. Granted, gentlemen, granted. And is not the interference I have mentioned frightful? Is it not terrific? Who can contemplate it without shuddering at the consequences which it is likely to produce? What gentler phrase—what ladylike expression should my client use? The constitution is sought to be violated, and he calls the author of that violation a frightful partisan. Really, gentlemen, the fastidiousness which would reject this expression would be better employed in preventing or punishing crime, than in dragging to a dungeon the man who has the manliness to adhere to truth, and to use it. Recollect also—I cannot repeat it too often—that the Attorney-General told you that “the liberty of the Press was the best protection of the people against the government.” Now, if the constitution be violated—if the purity of election be disturbed by the executive, is not this precisely the case when this protection becomes necessary? It is not wanted, nor can the Press be called a protector, so long as the government is administered with fidelity, care, and skill. The protection of the Press is requisite only when integrity, diligence, or judgment do not belong to the administration; and that protection becomes the more necessary in the exact proportion in which these qualities are deficient. But, what protection can it afford if you convict in this instance? For, by doing so you will decide that nothing ought to be said against that want of honesty, or of attention, or of understanding; the more necessary will the protection of the Press become, the more unsafe will it be to publish the truth; and in the exact proportion in which the Press might be useful, will it become liable to punishment. In short, according to the Attorney-General’s doctrine, when the Press is “best employed and wanted most,” it will be most dangerous to use it. And thus, the more corrupt and profligate any administration may be, the more clearly can the public prosecutor ascertain the sacrifice of his selected victim. And call you this protection? Is this a protector who must be disarmed the moment danger threatens, and is bound a prisoner the instant the fight has commenced?

Here I should close the case—here I should shortly recapitulate my client’s defence, and leave him to your consideration; but I have been already too tedious, and shall do no more than recall to your recollection the purity, the integrity, the entire disinterestedness of Mr. Magee’s motives. If money were his object, he could easily procure himself to be patronized and salaried; but he prefers to be persecuted and discountenanced by the great and powerful, because they cannot deprive him of the certain expectation that his exertions are useful to his long-suffering, ill-requited country.

He is disinterested, gentlemen; he is honest; the Attorney-General admitted it, and actually took the trouble of administering to him advice how to amend his fortune and save his person. But the advice only made his youthful blood mantle in that ingenious countenance, and his reply was painted in the indignant look that told the Attorney-General he might offer wealth, but he could not bribe—that he might torture, but he could not terrify! Yes, gentlemen, firm in his honesty, and strong in the fervor of his love of Ireland, he fearlessly awaits your verdict, convinced that even you must respect the man whom you are called upon to condemn. Look to it, gentlemen; consider whether an honest, disinterested man shall be prohibited from discussing public affairs; consider whether all but flattery is to be silent—whether the discussion of the errors and the capacities of the ministers is to be closed forever. Whether we are to be silent as to the crimes of former periods, the follies of the present, and the credulity of the future; and, above all, reflect upon the demand that is made on you to punish the canvassing of abstract principles.

Has the Attorney-General succeeded? Has he procured a jury so fitted to his object, as to be ready to bury in oblivion every fault and every crime, every error and every imperfection of public men, past, present, and future—and who shall, in addition, silence any dissertation on the theory or principle of legislation? Do, gentlemen, go this length with the prosecutor and then venture on your oaths. I charge you to venture to talk to your families of the venerable liberty of the Press—the protection of the people against the vices of the government.

I should conclude, but the Attorney-General compels me to follow him through another subject.[6]

* * * * *

Let me transport you from the heat and fury of domestic politics; let me place you in a foreign land; you are Protestants—with your good leave, you shall, for a moment, be Portuguese, and Portuguese is now an honorable name, for right well have the people of Portugal fought for their country, against the foreign invader. Oh! how easy to procure a similar spirit, and more of bravery, amongst the people of Ireland! The slight purchase of good words, and a kindly disposition, would convert them into an impenetrable guard for the safety of the Throne and the State. But advice and regret are equally unavailing, and they are doomed to calumny and oppression, the reality of persecution, and the mockery of justice, until some fatal hour shall arrive which may preach wisdom to the dupes, and menace with punishment the oppressor.

In the meantime I must place you in Portugal. Let us suppose for an instant that the Protestant religion is that of the people of Portugal—the Catholic, that of the government—that the house of Braganza has not reigned, but that Portugal is still governed by the viceroy of a foreign nation, from whom no kindness, no favor, has ever flowed, and from whom justice has rarely been obtained, and upon those unfrequent occasions, not conceded generously, but extorted by force, or wrung from distress by terror and apprehension, in a stinted measure and ungracious manner; you, Protestants, shall form, not as with us in Ireland, nine tenths, but some lesser number—you shall be only four fifths of the population; and all the persecution which you have yourselves practised here upon Papists, whilst you, at the same time, accused the Papists of the crime of being persecutors, shall glow around; your native land shall be to you the country of strangers; you shall be aliens in the soil that gave you birth, and whilst every foreigner may, in the land of your forefathers, attain rank, station, emolument, honors, you alone shall be excluded; and you shall be excluded for no other reason but a conscientious abhorrence to the religion of your ancestors.