and ability—­who is now listening to me in this court—­has written of that code.  I quote “Godkin’s History,” published by Cassell of London:—­

“The eighteenth century,” says Mr. Godkin, “was the era of persecution, in which the law did the work of the sword more effectually and more safely.  Then was established a code framed with almost diabolical ingenuity to extinguish natural affection—­to foster perfidy and hypocrisy—­to petrify conscience—­to perpetuate brutal ignorance—­to facilitate the work of tyranny—­by rendering the vices of slavery inherent and natural in the Irish character, and to make Protestantism almost irredeemably odious as the monstrous incarnation of all moral perversions.”

Gentlemen, in that fell spirit English law addressed itself to a dreadful purpose here in Ireland; and, mark you, that code prevailed down to our own time; down to this very generation.  “Law” called on the son to sell his father; called on the flock to betray the pastor.  “Law” forbade us to educate—­forbid us to worship God in the faith of our fathers.  “Law” made us outcasts—­scourged us, trampled us, plundered us—­do you marvel that, amongst the Irish people, law has been held in “disesteem?” Do you think this feeling arises from “sympathy with assassination or murder?” Yet, if we had been let alone, I doubt not that time would have fused the conquerors and the conquered, here in Ireland, as elsewhere.  Even while the millions of the people were kept outside the constitution, the spirit of nationality began to appear; and under its blessed influence toleration touched the heart of the Irish-born Protestant.  Yes—­thank God—­thank God, for the sake of our poor country, where sectarian bitterness has wrought such wrong—­it was an Irish Protestant Parliament that struck off the first link of the penal chain.  And lo! once more, for a bright brief day, Irish national sentiment was in warm sympathy and heartfelt accord with the laws.  “Eighty-two” came.  Irish Protestant patriotism, backed by the hearty sympathy of the Catholic millions, raised up Ireland to a proud and glorious position; lifted our country from the ground, where she lay prostrate under the sword of England—­but what do I say?  This is “sedition.”  It has this week been decreed sedition to picture Ireland thus.[C] Well, then, they rescued her from what I will call the loving embrace of her dear sister Britannia, and enthroned her in her rightful place, a queen among the nations.  Had the brightness of that era been prolonged—­picture it, think of it—­what a country would ours be now?  Think of it!  And contrast what we are with what we might be!  Compare a population filled with burning memories—­disaffected, sullen, hostile, vengeful—­with a people loyal, devoted, happy, contented; and England, too, all the happier, the more secure, the more great and free.  But sad is the story.  Our independent national legislature was torn from us by means,