on which the judgment was reversed was not even
remotely connected with the main enquiry, whether or not the charge of
conspiracy was sustainable in point of constitutional law. During the
progress of the trial, a fraud, a swindle, a petty theft, was
perpetrated by the officers of government, which more than one man, high
in office, had a hand in suborning. This fact had supreme influence on
the decision of the House of Lords. But the plain truth is, the judgment
was reversed as an essential move in a great party game.

Ireland triumphed. Her triumph was a just and a great one.

But her exultation was on a fallacious basis. She believed Mr.
O'Connell's infallibility was re-established. No one cared, or perhaps
dared to correct the error. In itself it seemed little worthy of notice,
yet it had its share of evil influence. First, it diverted men's minds
from the one question; secondly, it left behind it the demoralising
effect inseparable from untruth. Were it even what the public eagerness
chose to shape it, its relative value, weighed against the triumph of
courage and virtue, would be contemptible.

Mr. O'Connell himself did not seem to share in the nation's pride. His
spirit was broken. He anticipated the glad wishes of the metropolis, and
walked home from the penitentiary clouded and gloomy. It was evident
something within him had died. However, he went back the next day, and
left the prison the second time in the midst of public rejoicings never
surpassed on any occasion in his life. His addresses on that day, and
subsequently while in town, were not such as they were wont to be; and
he soon retired to his wild mountain home to invigorate a mind and body,
borne down by gigantic labours, fearful responsibilities, some alarms,
and perhaps a chilling sense of defeat and weakness. His health was soon
restored, but his political vigour never. The first time his voice was
heard from that retreat, it was to recommend a compromise; and, for the
first time, his advice was openly opposed. Charles Duffy answered his
letter, which recommended to fall back on Federalism--a question in the
mouths of many, but in the brain of none--respectfully and firmly
remonstrating against such a course. In a great many circles, Mr. Duffy
could not be looked at with more wonder if he had recommended to cut off
Mr. O'Connell's head.

Hitherto, this condensed retrospect has been almost exclusively confined
to the name and fortunes of O'Connel