oath in an Irish court of justice, reflecting on his Lordship’s administration, is to be believed. Mr. Finnerty published an account of the proceedings on Orr’s trial, which was deemed a libel, and therefore the whole history of the Irish rebellion and of the year 1798 is a fable. Lord Castlereagh would not consent to quash his prosecution of Mr. Finnerty on this ground some years ago, because he would not shun inquiry, and yet the affidavits were not suffered to be read in court, and his lordship deprecates their production in parliament. He thinks it hard that he must be called on to prove a negative, when others swear positively to the affirmative. Accusation against his Lordship is to pass not for a proof of guilt but innocence, and his inability to refute the charge only calls for a greater degree of candid interpretation and implicit faith in his Lordship’s word. Insinuation only requires confidence to repel it—proof more confidence—conviction unlimited confidence. Whether the things ever happened or no, they are to be equally buried in eternal silence in Mr. Finnerty’s ‘disloyal breast’: not a tittle of evidence is to be suffered to escape from the budget of affidavits which he has got together by forbidden means. His Lordship’s Irish administration is to be inscrutable as another Providence, secret as another Inquisition; the English Parliament are to put the broad seal of their sanction upon it! It was certainly unlucky at this juncture of the debate, that Mr. W. Smith should have started up with the case of Mr. Judkin Fitzgerald, who (it seems, by his own account of his services, not from any affidavits against him) had been most active in inflicting this ‘cruel and unwarrantable species of torture,’ and was made a Baronet in consequence. ‘And struts Sir Judkin, an exceeding knave!’ The unconsciousness of the Irish government exceeds every thing. They are not only ‘innocent of the knowledge, till they applaud the deed,’ but ignorant of it, after they have applauded it. It is no wonder that the fixed air and volatile spirit of Mr. Canning’s wit frothed up at this indiscreet mention of Sir Judkin, and that he wished to ‘bury him quick,’ under the artificial flowers of his oratory. _The dead tell no tales_—of the dead or the living! Mr. Canning twitted Mr. W. Smith with attacking the dead, because ‘he had found that the absent could answer.’ Does this allude to the Laureate? If so, let Mr. Canning call for more flowers, and lay him by the side of Sir Judkin. This allusion to the answer to Mr. W. Smith is, however, remarkably candid, as Mr. Southey declares in it that he never thought Mr. Canning worth an answer. He may now return the compliment in kind, by inscribing the next edition of his ‘Inscriptions’ to the author of the ‘Anti-Jacobin.’ ON THE TREATMENT OF STATE PRISONERS. ‘O silly sheep, come ye to seek the lamb here of the wolf!’