_delusion_." (See Hume's History.) And yet Oates was rewarded with appointments in the Royal Palace, and had £1200 a year assigned him, as the wages of his iniquity, and Bedloe £500: and Oates was called "the Saviour of the nation." But how did these wretches come off at last? You shall hear again, from Mr. Macaulay. About seven years later, when the madness, and the delusion of the people, had passed away, it was resolved, to bring these wretches, who had spilled so much blood, to their _own_ trial. "Some of the wretches," (says Macaulay) "were already beyond the reach of justice. Bedloe had died in his wickedness, without one sign of remorse or shame. Dugdale had followed him to the grave, driven mad by the furies of an evil conscience, and with loud shrieks, imploring those, who stood around his bed, to take away Lord Stafford. (A Catholic Lord, whose life he had sworn away, seven years ago.) Carstairs, too, was gone. His end, was all horror, and despair, and with his last breath, he told his attendants to throw him into a ditch, like a dog, for that he was not fit, to sleep in Christian burial ground." Mr. Macaulay thus describes Oates' appearance, at _his_ trial. "A few years earlier, his short neck, his legs uneven, as those of a badger, his forehead low, as that of a baboon, his purple cheeks, and monstrous length of chin, had been familiar to all, who frequented the courts of law. He had been the idol of the nation--men had uncovered their heads to him, and called him, the deliverer of his country. They _now shuddered_ at the sight of the _hideous_ features, on which _villany_ seemed to be written, by the _hand of God_." (See Macaulay's History of England.) Horrible as were the sufferings of Oates, they did not equal his crimes. Such, gentlemen, is a short, but true account of Titus Oates's Plot, and of his abandoned, and perjured accomplices. And yet, some have the audacity to throw this infamous plot, in the face of the Catholics, even at the present day. To such I would say, "you are either ignorant of history, or not; if you are ignorant of history, it is the part of a simpleton, to talk on subjects which he does not understand." But if you are acquainted with history, I beg to address you in the words of the poet-- "A moral, sensible, and well bred man, Will not offend me, and no other can."