of the Bishop of Exeter with reference to the oath
required of them by the Relief Bill. Whether this was a sally of
passion I know not, but it was puerile, imprudent, and
undignified. This charge was delivered in 1836, and ought to have
been animadverted upon at the time, if at all. It either is, or
is not, a proper matter to bring before the House, but that
propriety cannot be contingent upon some other proceeding of
another person, quite unconnected with it. It was a poor _tu
quoque_ which has got him into a scrape, and will contribute to
the downhill impulsion of the Government; it is a fresh bit of
discredit thrown upon them. John Russell too has been a personal
antagonist of the Bishop of Exeter, and should have been the last
man to attack him in this irregular way. Out of all this will
spring much violence and personality, and that is what interests
the members of the House of Commons more than any great political
question.

[8] [O'Connell had asserted, at the 'Crown and Anchor'
tavern, that 'foul perjury was committed by the Tory
Election Committees.']

February 27th, 1838 {p.067}

It is difficult to conceive a greater quantity of folly crammed
into a short space of time than has been displayed by all parties
in the last three or four days, and which reached the climax last
night in the House of Commons. It began with O'Connell's speech
at the 'Crown and Anchor,' when he denounced the perjury of the
Tory Election Committees in such terms as he usually employs. To
recommend moderate language to O'Connell would, however, be about
as reasonable as to advise him to drop his brogue; but as he had
ample notice that the matter was coming before the House of
Commons, he might have been persuaded, and there should have been
somewhere sense and prudence enough to persuade him, to soften
his tone, and to make one of those explanations, partly
exculpatory and partly apologetic, which are always accepted as a
sufficient atonement for rash and violent language; instead of
which he brazened it out, and then John Russell came to his
rescue in that foolish and unbecoming notice of his which
compromised his dignity, committed his party,[9] and complicated
all the difficulties in which the House itself was placed. The
fools of his party (and on both sides they predominate in noise
and numbers) vociferously cheered this ill-judged sally, and
lauded it as a fine spirited retort. Not so, however, the