he had persisted, even to fatuity, in distinguishing between what was supposed to be the real intentions of the prince and the conduct of his ministers. After the death of Perceval, and the reconstruction of the Liverpool administration on more or less anti-catholic lines, delusion was no longer possible; but the unexpected success of Canning's motion on 22 June 1812 gave the catholics new hope. O'Connell, while sharing in the general satisfaction, strongly emphasised the necessity ‘never to relax their efforts until religious freedom was established.’ Speaking at Limerick on 24 July, he seized on an allusion made by Canning to ‘agitators with ulterior views,’ and began, ‘I feel it my duty as a professed agitator,’ &c. He poured contempt on the doctrine of the necessity of securities. The question of securities, he declared, was an insult to the understandings and principles of the catholics. Nothing but the simple repeal of all catholic disabilities would satisfy the country. The apathy of the mass of the people, as shown by the results of the general election, greatly depressed him; but he was more alarmed by the prospect of the passing of a bill on the lines laid down by Canning, which Grattan, with the best intention in the world, but with altogether insufficient knowledge of the state of catholic opinion in Ireland, had introduced on 30 April 1813. It was a critical moment in O'Connell's life. Not an instant he felt was to be lost in opposing the measure. The catholic board met on 1 May, and, though its proceedings were conducted in private, a report was furnished by O'Connell to the ‘Dublin Evening Post’ of 4 May, in which he denounced the bill as ‘restricted in principle, doubtful in its wording, and inadequate to that full relief which had been generally expected.’ As for the ecclesiastical provisions of the bill, he left them, he declared, to the decision of the catholic prelates, but not without a strong hint that, in case they thought fit to accept them, he might find it his duty ‘to protest against any measure that might tarnish the last relic of the nation's independence—its religion.’ On 27 May the clergy confirmed O'Connell's decision by pronouncing the clause to be incompatible with the discipline of the Roman catholic church. Two days previously the obnoxious bill had been defeated and withdrawn.
O'Connell's opposition to the securities exposed him to much abuse, and led to an unfortunate schism both in the board and in the country. But, quite apart from the principle involved in the securities, there can be little doubt that his opposition to the bill was entirely justifiable on political grounds (see particularly Peel to Richmond, 21 May 1813, in Parker, Sir Robert Peel, i. 85). For the nonce the catholics, split up into vetoists and anti-vetoists, seemed further than ever from emancipation. But, much as he might deplore this unhappy issue to their affairs, O'Connell had no intention of retreating from his position. Hitherto he had tried by every means in his power to conciliate his opponents. Conciliation had failed; it only remained to try other and more radical methods.
Among the staunchest of O'Connell's allies at this juncture was John Magee [q. v.], proprietor and editor of the ‘Dublin Evening Post,’ a paper which, with a very wide circulation, gave an unflinching support to the catholic claims. In order, as Peel admitted to Abbot (Colchester, Diary, ii. 471), to wrest this formidable weapon out of the hands of the catholics, proceedings were begun in the summer of 1813 against Magee for libelling the viceroy, the Duke of Richmond. O'Connell was Magee's leading counsel, and in a speech of four hours' duration, by many regarded as his greatest forensic effort, he poured contempt and ridicule on the charge, on the government that preferred it, and on the jury that was to decide it. As Peel, who was present, said, he took ‘the opportunity of uttering a libel even more atrocious than that which he proposed to defend.’ The fact was, O'Connell felt it was utterly useless to appeal for justice to a jury composed entirely of Orangemen, and so, with Magee's consent, he devoted himself to a full exposition and vindication of the catholic policy. The court was hostile. He knew it, and rejoiced in it. Into those four brief hours he compressed the indignation of a lifetime. His enemies, the enemies of his creed and his country, were at last before him. He would compel them to listen to him. When the chief justice tried to stem the torrent of his vituperative eloquence, he turned on him with fury. ‘You heard,’ he cried, ‘the attorney-general traduce and calumniate us. You heard him with patience and with temper; listen now to our vindication.’ His speech, of which a full report was published by Magee, was received with applause not unmingled with symptoms of disapproval from the more moderate members of his party. When Magee appeared for judgment on 27 Nov., the attorney-general urged his publication of the speech as an aggravation of his original offence. O'Connell, though he may have been unaware that the benchers had been sounded on the propriety of stripping him of his gown, recog-
