was
made on the Whig ministry."

And, finally: The boasted acceptance by Mr. O'Connell of the
distribution of Whig patronage, and the appointment of his personal
friends to lucrative employment.

All that followed was one unvaried scene of distraction, division and
enmity. Week after week, the seceders were held up to public odium,
derision and scorn. One day, they were "blasphemous," one day,
"revolutionary," one day, they "sang small," and one day "their nobles
were come to ninepence." Now, they were challenged to establish a
society of their own principles; now, they were recommended to the
mercy of the Attorney-General, and again commended to the hatred of the
people. Meantime a blight had fallen on the earth, and a whole people's
food, in one night, perished. To the new Government, the famine that
ensued was an assurance of subsistence and success. Hunger would waste
the bodies of the people, as the dearth of truth had wasted their souls.
The ministry affected great sympathy, great diligence, and great
impotence. Among other wants of theirs, the want of practical engineers
was felt the deepest. They knew and lamented that many died of
starvation; but the thing was inevitable as long as they were unprovided
with practical engineers. Mr. O'Connell, from the platform of the hall,
announced the good intentions of the Government, and proclaimed, at the
same time, his own commission to supply them with engineers. How many
applied and were refused, I am not in a position to say; but there is no
disputing the records of the church-yard, where many an uncoffined
corpse attested the care of the "_paternal government_." The people were
guaranteed against death, and yet death came, and took them at his will;
but what was left of life was taught to exhaust itself in curses against
those who would save it at every risk. Wherever the seceders appeared
they were hooted. Prostitutes of both sexes regarded them as fit
subjects for their insolent raillery. The avowed foes of nationality
looked on them as fools; its pretended friends as knaves; and the common
herd of indifferent villains as a butt. The low retainers of the English
garrison, who had sold their souls to the enemy but were kept in awe by
bodily fear, became outrageously patriotic; and with insulted gratitude
they scouted the traducers of the "saviour of their country." Alas! in
Ireland, nothing was saved but death's agencies. Doom had come upon
all--her produce, her pe