My lord, upon the Catholic subject, I commence with one assertion of the Attorney-General, which I trust I misunderstood. He talked, as I collected him, of the Catholics having imbibed principles of a seditious, treasonable, and revolutionary nature! He seemed to me, most distinctly, to charge us with treason! There is no relying on his words for his meaning—I know there is not. On a former occasion, I took down a repetition of this charge full seventeen times on my brief, and yet, afterwards, it turned out that he never intended to make any such charge; that he forgot he had ever used those words, and he disclaimed the idea they naturally convey. It is clear, therefore, that upon this subject he knows not what he says; and that these phrases are the mere flowers of his rhetoric, but quite innocent of any meaning!
Upon this account I pass him by, I go beyond him, and I content myself with proclaiming those charges, whosoever may make them, to be false and base calumnies! It is impossible to refute such charges in the language of dignity or temper. But if any man dares to charge the Catholic body, or the Catholic Board, or any individuals of that Board with sedition or treason, I do here, I shall always in this court, in the city, in the field, brand him as an infamous and profligate liar!
Pardon the phrase, but there is no other suitable to the occasion. But he is a profligate liar who so asserts, because he must know that the whole tenor of our conduct confutes the assertion. What is it we seek?
Chief Justice.—What, Mr. O’Connell, can this have to do with the question which the jury are to try?
Mr. O’Connell.—You heard the Attorney-General traduce and calumniate us—you heard him with patience and with temper—listen now to our vindication!
I ask, what is it we seek? What is it we incessantly and, if you please, clamorously petition for? Why, to be allowed to partake of the advantages of the constitution. We are earnestly anxious to share the benefits of the constitution. We look to the participation in the constitution as our greatest political blessing. If we desired to destroy it, would we seek to share it? If we wished to overturn it, would we exert ourselves through calumny, and in peril, to obtain a portion of its blessings? Strange, inconsistent voice of calumny! You charge us with intemperance in our exertions for a participation in the constitution, and you charge us at the same time, almost in the same sentence, with a design to overturn that constitution. The dupes of your hypocrisy may believe you; but, base calumniators, you do not, you cannot, believe yourselves!
The Attorney-General—“this wisest and best of men,” as his colleague, the Solicitor-General, called him in his presence—the Attorney-General next boasted of his triumph over Pope and Popery—“I put down the Catholic Committee; I will put down, at my good time, the Catholic Board.” This boast is partly historical, partly prophetical. He was wrong in his history—he is quite mistaken in his prophecy. He did not put down the Catholic Committee—we gave up that name the moment that it was confessedly avowed that this sapient Attorney-General’s polemico-legal controversy dwindled into a mere dispute about words. He told us that in the English language “pretence” means “purpose”; had it been French and not English, we might have been inclined to respect his judgment, but in point of English we venture to differ with him; we told him “purpose,” good Mr. Attorney-General, is just the reverse of “pretence.” The quarrel grew warm and animated; we appealed to common sense, to the grammar, and to the dictionary; common sense, grammar, and the dictionary decided in our favor. He brought his appeal to this court, your lordship, and your brethren unanimously decided that, in point of law—mark, mark, gentlemen of the jury, the sublime wisdom of law—the court decided that, in point of law, “pretence” does mean “purpose”!
Fully contented with this very reasonable and more satisfactory decision, there still remained a matter of fact between us: the Attorney-General charged us with being representatives; we denied all representation. He had two witnesses to prove the fact for him; they swore to it one way at one trial, and directly the other way at the next. An honorable, intelligent, and enlightened jury disbelieved those witnesses at the first trial—matters were better managed at the second trial—the jury were better arranged. I speak delicately, gentlemen; the jury were better arranged, as the witnesses were better informed; and, accordingly, there was one verdict for us on the representative question, and one verdict against us.
You know the jury that found for us; you know that it was Sir Charles Saxton’s Castle-list jury that found against us. Well, the consequence was that, thus encouraged, Mr. Attorney-General proceeded to force. We abhorred tumult, and were weary of litigation; we new-modelled the agents and managers of the Catholic petitions; we formed an assembly, respecting which there could not be a shadow of pretext for calling it a representative body. We disclaimed representation; and we rendered it impossible, even for the virulence of the most malignant law-officer living, to employ the Convention Act against us—that, even upon the Attorney-General’s own construction, requires representation as an ingredient in the offence it prohibits. He cannot possibly call us representatives; we are the individual servants of the public, whose business we do gratuitously but zealously. Our cause has advanced even from his persecution—and this he calls putting down the Catholic Committee![3]
Next, he glorifies himself in his prospect of putting down the Catholic Board. For the present, he, indeed, tells you, that much as he hates the Papists, it is unnecessary for him to crush our Board, because we injure our own cause so much. He says that we are very criminal, but we are so foolish that our folly serves as a compensation for our wickedness. We are very wicked and very mischievous, but then we are such foolish little criminals, that we deserve his indulgence. Thus he tolerates offences, because of their being committed sillily; and, indeed, we give him so much pleasure and gratification by the injury we do our own cause that he is spared the superfluous labor of impeding our petition by his prosecutions, fines, or imprisonments.