in the Parliament of Ireland, and on the mode in which it was opened here, I thought I saw much matter of perplexity.  But I have now better reason than ever to be pleased with my silence.  If I had spoken, one of the most honest and able men[16] in the Irish Parliament would probably have thought my observation an endeavor to sow dissension, which he was resolved to prevent,—­and one of the most, ingenious and one of the most amiable men[17] that ever graced yours or any House of Parliament might have looked on it as a chimera.  In the silence I observed, I was strongly countenanced (to say no more of it) by every gentleman of Ireland that I had the honor of conversing with in London.  The only word, for that reason, which I spoke, was to restrain a worthy county member,[18] who had received some communication from a great trading place in the county he represents, which, if it had been opened to the House, would have led to a perplexing discussion of one of the most troublesome matters that could arise in this business.  I got up to put a stop to it; and I believe, if you knew what the topic was, you would commend my discretion.

That it should be a matter of public discretion in me to be silent on the affairs of Ireland is what on all accounts I bitterly lament.  I stated to the House what I felt; and I felt, as strongly as human sensibility can feel, the extinction of my Parliamentary capacity, where I wished to use it most.  When I came into this Parliament, just fourteen years ago,—­into this Parliament, then, in vulgar opinion at least, the presiding council of the greatest empire existing, (and perhaps, all things considered, that ever did exist,) obscure and a stranger as I was, I considered myself as raised to the highest dignity to which a creature of our species could aspire.  In that opinion, one of the chief pleasures in my situation, what was first and-uppermost in my thoughts, was the hope, without injury to this country, to be somewhat useful to the place of my birth and education, which in many respects, internal and external, I thought ill and impolitically governed.  But when I found that the House, surrendering itself to the guidance of an authority, not grown out of an experienced wisdom and integrity, but out of the accidents of court favor, had become the sport of the passions of men at once rash and pusillanimous,—­that it had even got into the habit of refusing everything to reason and surrendering everything to force, all my power of obliging either my country or individuals was gone, all the lustre of my imaginary rank was tarnished, and I felt degraded even by my elevation.  I said this, or something to this effect.  If it gives offence to Ireland, I am sorry for it:  it was the reason I gave for my silence; and it was, as far as it went, the true one.