You talk of waiting till another reign before any alteration is
made; a proposal full of good sense and good nature, if the measure
in question were to pull down St. James's Palace, or to alter Kew
Gardens. Will Bonaparte agree to put off his intrigues, and his
invasion of Ireland? If so, I will overlook the question of
justice, and finding the danger suspended, agree to the delay. I
sincerely hope this reign may last many years, yet the delay of a
single session of Parliament may be fatal; but if another year
elapse without some serious concession made to the Catholics, I
believe, before God, that all future pledges and concessions will be
made in vain. I do not think that peace will do you any good under
such circumstances. If Bonaparte give you a respite, it will only
be to get ready the gallows on which he means to hang you. The
Catholic and the Dissenter can unite in peace as well as war. If
they do, the gallows is ready, and your executioner, in spite of the
most solemn promises, will turn you off the next hour.

With every disposition to please (where to please within fair and
rational limits is a high duty), it is impossible for public men to
be long silent about the Catholics; pressing evils are not got rid
of, because they are not talked of. A man may command his family to
say nothing more about the stone and surgical operations; but the
ponderous malice still lies upon the nerve, and gets so big, that
the patient breaks his own law of silence, clamours for the knife,
and expires under its late operation. Believe me, you talk folly
when you talk of suppressing the Catholic question. I wish to God
the case admitted of such a remedy; bad as it is, it does not admit
of it. If the wants of the Catholics are not heard in the manly
tones of Lord Grenville, or the servile drawl of Lord Castlereagh,