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ed Judge had been countenancing, in place of denouncing, agitation (cheers), what an excellent ground it would have been for a vote of thanks to have been moved to him by the hon. and learned gentleman. (Cheers.) The result of these extraordinary and most laudable exertions on the part of the learned judge was, that he had been confined to his bed by illness for a considerable time after his return to Dublin. (Hear.)"
It was this Armagh case that had staggered Mr Stanley; and yet, alas! after it had been thus disposed of, he persisted in supporting O'Connell against Baron Smith! The House, had it been pervaded by a spirit of common justice, such as actuates men in the ordinary affairs of life, would have scorned to pay the slightest attention to any other minor charges of the same kind, but taken it for granted that they were, one and all, odious excrescences sprouting from the body of this one big ugly lie.
But there was another separate and supplementary lie, which, after Baron Smith's triumph in the House, was cut down in the open day as by a scythe. O'Connell had insisted that Sir William did not go into Court, to try the police in the Castle Pollard affair, before half-past three o'clock; and farther imputed to him the having forced the Jury to continue the trial through the night, and coerced them into a verdict of acquit tal. It was chiefly-so we think they said, though we do not believe them upon this statement, that Mr Stanley and Lord Althorp opposed Sir Edward Knatchbull's motion. O'Connell made it on the authority of a Mr Patrick Egan of Moute. The Editor of the Standard from the first declared his disbelief in the exist ence of this pastoral swain. If there be such a person, we should like to see the inside of his tongue. For here is "The certificate of the petit Jury who tried the Castle Pollard
ther of the above statements are the facts, but quite the reverse; neither was it the case, that the trial was entered upon at half-past three o'clock. Baron Smith entered at about or before eleven o'clock in the forenoon, and the trial commenced almost immediately after, by calling the jurors; but so much time was taken up in putting jurors aside, and challenging and signing objections, that Sergeant Pennefather did not begin to state the case for the prosecution until about two o'clock in the after
"We, the jury who tried the Castle Pollard case, having seen the state ment in the newspapers, that Baron Smith proceeded with the trial in that case against our will and desire, and coerced us by his charge to acquit the prisoners, declare, that nei
"Charles Arabin, Foreman, Robert Matthews, John Thomson, R. H. Levinge, Christopher Adamson, John Smith, Robert M. Jameson, Peter Smith, Angier Brock, Peter Green.
"Captain Tennison Lyons, one of the jury, is dead above six months; and Mr John Black has since gone to reside in the county of Longford, but his signature is expected to be affixed to said certificate."
Sir James Grahame, before O'Connell's charges had been all thus refuted, torn to pieces, and trampled under foot, felt instinctively, and saw intuitively, that they were all false; but even if not all false, he nobly declared, "that as one who valued his own independence and charac ter, if the motion were acceded to, and an address to the Crown presented for the removal of Baron Smith from his judicial situation, (supposing all the alleged facts proved,) it would be highly inexpe dient, nay more, a most unjust proceeding. As an humble individual, whose character was dearer to him than any other consideration, he felt that he could not support his colleagues in the view they had adopted with regard to it. The present would be the most painful vote he had ever given, since he felt it incumbent upon him to draw himself from those friends with whom, during a life of some duration, he had had the honour of acting; but feeling, as he did, the proposition to be dangerous in itself, he conceived he should be betraying the trust committed to him by his constituents if he did not declare against it. He should never forgive himself were he to adopt a contrary line of conduct. He again professed his inability to argue the question; but felt he should not
discharge his duty to the satisfaction of his own mind unless he voted against the motion."
Sir James Grahame has already had his reward-the only reward he contemplated at the time he did his duty-the approbation of his own conscience and of his country. He has shewn that he is worthy of that esteem with which his character is generally regarded, and proved that he will never, by any weak or base act, under any temptation, sully that name to which he has in many ways given additional lustre. Three years of Whig rule may have deadened, but they have not extinguished the spirit of this once magnanimous nation; and though it gave him pain to sever himself, on this occasion, from his friends in the Ministry, he thereby gained a million friends, and if it be asked, "What will they say at Cockermouth?" it may be answered, "The same that they say all over Great Britain and Irelandthe First Lord of the Admiralty is a man of honour."
ble compositions must have made a powerful impression on all educated men in Ireland, be their politics or religion what they may, for they breathe in beautiful language the beautiful sentiments of Christian love and charity, and call on all brethren to dwell together in peace. There are not wanting flashes of indignation to wither the wicked; but their general character is gentle, and the law which this good and great man desires to see all-powerful, is the law not of fear but of love. What other sentiments could have been uttered by that Judge whose only fault is-that he is too merciful-remembering ever that all men are criminals-and that pardon. may often do the work of punishmentat the expense of far other tears?
We have much more to say-but must reserve it for other occasions. Meanwhile, we conclude with the beautiful close of Mr Shaw's speech, to which the heart of Ireland has responded with a voice of blessing on the honoured head which the Ministry hoped to humiliate, and with a voice of ban against all his persecutors and slanderers.
We have purposely avoided saying one word about Baron Smith's charges; for we wished first to expose the falsehood of all the accusations the incendiary urged against his character and conduct as a Judge. Political charges they indeed are; and full of the humanest wisdom. Therefore by O'Connell are they abhorred; therefore to an infatuated Whig Ministry are they hateful; therefore was Baron Smith marked out as a victim; and therefore did the voice of the people forbid the sacrifice.
These charges ought to be collected, and widely diffused-they would make at once a statesman's and a subject's manual. The King's Speech was far from being a very bad one, though its composition was execrable; and the charge of Baron Smith chiefly complained of by Lord Althorp, was, from beginning to end, a fervid exhortation to the most influential classes in Ireland, to crush sedition and preserve order by all the means and appliances recommended to the lieges by their most gracious monarch. We daresay Lord Althorp does not admire the style of Baron Smith's charges, for it is classical; but, being classical, it is perspicuous; and these no
"I challenge the boldest adventurer.in Irish agitation to stand forward before an assembly of English gentlemen, and bring a charge of the slightest corruption, partiality, oppression, or any other species of criminality against Baron Smith. Let them betake themselves to the veriest haunts of faction, turbulence, sedition, and cater in the fetid atmosphere of the most squalid misery and vice-let them include, nay, I should wish they would, every criminal that learned Judge (who, if he had a fault, it was that he was too humane) has ever tried, and I defy them to carry thence one single breath wherewith to sully the pure and untarnished reputation of that distin guished man. Has one individual dared,
throughout the two nights of this discussion, to cast the shadow of an improper
motive across the long and honourable path of his judicial life? What then! Will this House-the question is not whether they approve or disapprove of some particular phrase or figure, or some trifling unpunctuality-but without the imputation of a crime-without the charge of an offence-drag that venerable man-the father of the Irish bench
the head and ornament of Irish society-the pride of Irish literaturehim who in the days of his youth, his
vigour, his health, had illumined the brightest pages of Irish history; nowwhen the brightness of his former fame and great attainments was sinking into the peacefulness of retirement, full of years, covered with the honour, respect, and esteem of his entire country, and place him a criminal at that bar? Forbid it justice, honour, truth! Is there a generous mind, a feeling heart, a noble sentiment in Ireland, that would not revolt against an act of such grievous injury-such wanton, crying, cruel, unprecedented injustice? And who is his accuser? who is it-that asks you without evidence, and upon his mere statement, to condemn that aged and venerated Judge? The factious-turbulent-and seditious agitator; the man who caused the passing of a special act of Parliament against illegal associations-violated its provisions, and escaped its penalties by its accidental expiration-who is at this moment vicariously suffering in the person of another the punishment of that sedi. tion of which he is this night the advocate and whom you, this very Parlia ment, are now only holding within the bounds of allegiance and the limits of the law, by the provisions of an extreme and extra-constitutional statute. Is this the man at whose feet you will prostrate the laws of the land, and in place of their mild and salutary sway, set up the iron rule of his dictation? Will you subvert the judicial bench, and for it substitute
the arbitrary will of one despotic tyrant? Will you render insecure our persons, our properties, and our lives? Will you, at his bidding, drive peace and safety from our homes, and leave us, our wives and children, at the mercy of the lawless agitator. -a prey to the midnight murderer and the voluptuous assassin? Will you overturn the altars of our holy religion? I speak this in no spirit of religious or sectarian bigotry—I was myself friendly to the concession of political equality to my Roman Catholic fellow-countrymen-I thought they would have then been content, but I was grievously mistaken. They cry aloud for the destruction of our Church; and if this policy be continued, it will but inflame the infuriate zeal, with which the Irish agitator thirsts for the life's blood of Protestantism. I speak not personally of Protestants, but religiously of Protestantism. If you confirm the vote, you set the most fatal precedent that ever was established in a British House of Commons. You abrogate the boasted charter of judicial independence, passed not to uphold the personal rank and dignity of the Judge, but as the best security of the rights and liberties of the subject. And as to Ireland-you will stab to the heart her laws, her liberties, her peace, and her prosperity; and with them will fall withered to the ground every hope of amelioration in the unhappy condition of that unhappiest of countries."
A STORY WITHOUT A TAIL.
HOW WE WEnt to dine AT JACK GINGER'S.
So it was finally agreed upon that we should dine at Jack Ginger's chambers in the Temple, seated in a lofty story in Essex Court. There was, besides our host, Tom Meggot, Joe Macgillicuddy, Humpy Harlow, Bob Burke, Antony Harrison, and myself. As Jack Ginger had little coin and no credit, we contributed each our share to the dinner. He himself provided room, fire, candle, tables, chairs, tablecloth, napkinsno, not napkins; on second thoughts we did not bother ourselves with napkins-plates, dishes, knives, forks, spoons, (which he borrowed from the wig-maker,) tumblers, lemons, sugar, water, glasses, decanters -by the by, I am not sure that there were decanters-salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard, bread, butter, (plain
and melted,) cheese, radishes, potatoes, and cookery. Tom Meggot was a cod's head and shoulders, and oysters to match-Joe Macgillicuddy, a boiled leg of pork, with peas-pudding-Humpy Harlow, a sirloin of beef roast, with horseradish-Bob Burke, a gallon of half-and-half, and four bottles of whisky, of prime quality ("Potteen," wrote the Whiskyman, "I say, by Jupiter, but of which many-facture He alone knows")Antony Harrison, half-a-dozen of Port, he having tick to that extent at some unfortunate wine-merchant'sand I supplied cigars à discretion, and a bottle of rum, which I borrowed from a West Indian friend of mine as I passed by. So that, on the whole, we were in no danger of suffering from any of the extremes of
hunger and thirst for the course of that evening.
We met at five o'clock-sharpand very sharp. Not a man was missing when the clock of the Inner Temple struck the last stroke. Jack Ginger had done every thing to admiration. Nothing could be more splendid than his turn-out. He had superintended the cooking himself of every individual dish with his own eyes-or rather eye-he having but one, the other having been lost in a skirmish when he was midshipman on board a pirate in the Brazilian service. “Ah!” said Jack, often and often," these were my honest days-Gad-did I ever think when I was a pirate that I was at the end to turn rogue, and study the law."-All was accurate to the utmost degree. The table-cloth, to be sure, was not exactly white, but it had been washed last week, and the collection of the plates was miscellaneous, exhibiting several of the choicest patterns of Delf. We were not of the silver-fork
school of poetry, but steel is not to be despised. If the table was somewhat rickety, the inequality in the legs was supplied by clapping a volume of Vesey under the short one. As for the chairs-but why weary about details-chairs being made to be sat upon, it is sufficient to say that they answered their purposes, and whether they had backs or not
The history of that cod's head and shoulders would occupy but little space to write. Its flakes, like the snow flakes on a river, were for one moment bright, then gone for ever; it perished unpitiably. "Bring hither," said Jack, with a firm voice, "the leg of pork." It appeared, but soon to disappear again. Not a man of the company but shewed his abhorrence of the Judaical practice of abstaining from the flesh of swine. Equally clear in a few moments was it that we were truly British in our devotion to beef. The sirloin was impartially destroyed on both sides, upper and under. Dire was the clatter of the knives, but deep the silence of the guests. Jerry Gallagher, Jack's valet-de-chambre, footman, cook, clerk, shoeblack, aide-de-camp, scout, confidant, dun-chaser, bum-defyer, and many other offices in commendam, toiled like a hero. He covered himself with glory and gravy every moment. In a short time a vociferation arose for fluid, and the half-andhalf-Whitbread quartered upon Chamyton-beautiful heraldry! was inhaled with the most savage satisfaction.
"The pleasure of a glass of wine with you, Bob Burke," said Joe Mac
whether they were cane-bottomed, or hair-bottomed, or rush-bottomed, is nothing to the present enquiry.
Jack's habits of discipline made him punctual, and dinner was on the table in less than three minutes after five. Down we sate, hungry as hunters, and eager for the prey.
"Is there a parson in company?" said Jack Ginger, from the head of the table.
HOW WE DINED AT JACK GINGER'S.
"No," responded I, from the foot. "Then, thank God," said Jack, and proceeded, after this pious grace, to distribute the cod's head and shoulders to the hungry multitude.
Antony's face would be like gilding refined gold.
Whether cheese is prohibited or not in the higher circles of the West End, I cannot tell; but I know it was not prohibited in the very highest chambers of the Temple.
"It's double Gloucester," said Jack Ginger; "prime, bought at the corner-Heaven pay the cheesemonger, for I shan't-but, as he is a gentleman, I give you his health."
"I don't think," said Joe Macgillicuddy," that I ought to demean myself to drink the health of a cheesemonger; but I'll not stop the bottle."
And, to do Joe justice, he did not. Then we attacked the cheese, and in an incredibly short period we battered in a breach of an angle of 45 degrees, in a manner that would have done honour to any engineer that directed the guns at San Sebastian. The cheese, which on its first entry on the table presented the appearance of a plain circle, was soon made to exhibit a very different shape, as may be understood by the subjoined diagram:
[A, original cheese; EBD, cheese after five minutes standing on the table; EBC, angle of 45°.]
With cheese came, and with cheese went, celery. It is unnecessary to repeat what a number of puns were made on that most pun-provoking of plants.
"Clear the decks," said Jack Ginger to Jerry Gallagher. "Gentlemen, I did not think of getting pastry, or puddings, or dessert, or ices, or jellies, or blancmange, or any thing of the sort, for men of sense like you."
We all unanimously expressed our indignation at being supposed even for a moment guilty of any such weakness; but a general suspicion seemed to arise among us that a dram might not be rejected with the same marked scorn. Jack Ginger accordingly uncorked one of Bob Burke's bottles. Whop! went the cork, and the potteen soon was seen meandering round the table.
"And I take it," said I, winding up the conversation, "because I like a dram."
So we all took it for one reason or another-and there was an end of that.
"Be off, Jerry Gallagher," said Jack-"I give to you, your heirs and assigns, all that and those which remains in the pots of half-and-halfitem for your own dinners what is left of the solids-and when you have pared the bones clean, you may give them to the poor. Charity
covers a multitude of sins. Brush away like a shoeblack-and levant." Why, thin, God bless your honour," said Jerry Gallagher, "it's a small liggacy he would have that would dippind for his daily bread for what is left behind any of ye in the way of the drink-and this blessed hour there's not as much as would blind the left eye of a midge in one of them pots-and may it do you all good, if it a'n't the blessing of heaven to see you eating. By my sowl, he that has to pick a bone after you, won't be much troubled with the mate. Howsomever".
"No more prate," said Jack Ginger. "Here's twopence for you to buy some beer-but, no," he continued, drawing his empty hand from that breeches-pocket into which he had most needlessly put it-"no," said he, "Jerry-get it on credit wherever you can, and bid them score it to me."
"If they will "-said Jerry. "Shut the door," said Jack Ginger, in a peremptory tone, and Jerry retreated.
"That Jerry," said Jack, "is an uncommonly honest fellow, only he is the damnedest rogue in London.