own defence, in reading lectures upon
abstract political speculations, confessedly bearing no relation to any
militant interest now in question? Quite as impertinent it would be,
when called upon for the answer upon 'Guilty or not Guilty?' to read a
section from the Council of Trent, or a rescript from Cardinal
Bellarmine. Yet the more extravagant was the logic of this proceeding,
the more urgent became the presumption of a covert motive, and that
motive we soon saw to be this. Let the reader weigh it, and the good
sense of the man who at such a moment could suffer such a motive to
prevail. Thus it is: when Clontarf was intercepted, and implicitly,
though not formally, all similar meetings were by that one act for ever
prohibited, the first days of terror were naturally occupied with the
panic of the conspirators, and in providing for their personal terrors.
But when the dust of this great uproar began to settle, and objects
again became distinguishable in natural daylight, the first consequence
which struck the affrighted men of the conspiracy was the chilling
effect of the Government policy upon the O'Connell rent; not the weekly
rent, applied nobody knows how, but the annual rent applied to Mr.
O'Connell's _private_ benefit. This was in jeopardy, and on the
following argument: Originally this rent had been levied as a
compensation to Mr. O'Connell in his character of Irish barrister--not
for services rendered or _to be_ rendered, but for current services
continually being rendered in Parliament from session to session, for
expenses incident to that kind of duty, and also as an indemnification
for the consequent loss of fees at the Irish Bar. Yet now, in 1843,
having ceased to attend his duty in Parliament, Mr. O'Connell could no
longer claim in that senatorial character. Such a pretension would be
too gross for the understanding even of a Connaught peasant. And in
_that_ there was a great loss. For the allegation of a Parliamentary
warfare, under the vague idea of pushing forward good bills for Ireland,
or retarding bad ones, had been a pleasant and easy labour to the parish
priests. It was not necessary to horsewhip[19] their flocks too
severely. If all was not clear to 'my children's' understanding, at
least my children had no mutinous demur in a positive shape ready for
service. Recusants there were, and sturdy ones, but they could put no
face on their guilt, and their sin was not contagious. Unhappily, from
this