body of the Catholics, condemned to beggary and to
ignorance in their native land, have been obliged
to learn the principles of letters, at the hazard of
all their other principles, from the charity of your
enemies. They have been taxed to their ruin at
the pleasure of necessitous and profligate relations,
and according to the measure of their necessity and
profligacy. Examples of this are many and affecting.
Some of them are known by a friend who stands near
me in this hall. It is but six or seven years
since a clergyman, of the name of Malony, a man of
morals, neither guilty nor accused of anything noxious
to the state, was condemned to perpetual imprisonment
for exercising the functions of his religion; and after
lying in jail two or three years, was relieved by the
mercy of government from perpetual imprisonment, on
condition of perpetual banishment. A brother
of the Earl of Shrewsbury, a Talbot, a name respectable
in this country whilst its glory is any part of its
concern, was hauled to the bar of the Old Bailey,
among common felons, and only escaped the same doom,
either by some error in the process, or that the wretch
who brought him there could not correctly describe
his person,—I now forget which. In
short, the persecution would never have relented for
a moment, if the judges, superseding (though with an
ambiguous example) the strict rule of their artificial
duty by the higher obligation of their conscience,
did not constantly throw every difficulty in the way
of such informers. But so ineffectual is the power
of legal evasion against legal iniquity, that it was
but the other day that a lady of condition, beyond
the middle of life, was on the point of being stripped
of her whole fortune by a near relation to whom she
had been a friend and benefactor; and she must have
been totally ruined, without a power of redress or
mitigation from the courts of law, had not the legislature
itself rushed in, and by a special act of Parliament
rescued her from the injustice of its own statutes.
One of the acts authorizing such things was that which
we in part repealed, knowing what our duty was, and
doing that duty as men of honor and virtue, as good
Protestants, and as good citizens. Let him stand
forth that disapproves what we have done!
Gentlemen, bad laws are the worst sort of tyranny.
In such a country as this they are of all bad things
the worst,—worse by far than anywhere else;
and they derive a particular malignity even from the
wisdom and soundness of the rest of our institutions.
For very obvious reasons you cannot trust the crown
with a dispensing power over any of your laws.
However, a government, be it as bad as it may, will,
in the exercise of a discretionary power, discriminate
times and persons, and will not ordinarily pursue
any man, when its own safety is not concerned.
A mercenary informer knows no distinction. Under
such a system, the obnoxious people are slaves not
only to the government, but they live at the mercy
of every individual; they are at once the slaves of
the whole community and of every part of it; and the
worst and most unmerciful men are those on whose goodness
they most depend.