ery virtue; to be
rich, and of the aristocracy, is, in the estimation of the majority,
proof "strong as holy writ" of hardness of heart and depravity of
disposition. And hence it is that all compassion is reserved for the
Irish people, because they are said to be poor, without duly inquiring
whether or not their own misconduct is the principal cause of the
misfortunes they suffer; and universal reprehension is heaped upon the
Irish landlords, because, the people being impoverished, they are
supposed to have neglected their duties;--and no inquiry is made as to
whether they are enabled, if inclined, to perform their parts; or
whether all their schemes to improve the condition of the people
entrusted to their care, are not thwarted and counteracted by designing
and unprincipled men, acting, from self-interested motives, on the
passions and the prejudices of an excitable and ignorant population. We
respect and would assist the poor man struggling with the difficulties
which Providence has imposed upon his condition; but that is no reason
why we should extend our kindly feelings to the degraded ruffian who
reels in rags from the gin-shop.

The Irish people have been so trained by the agitators in the art of
deception, that it is almost impossible for those who have not an
accurate and perfect knowledge of their objects, and their practices, to
fathom their intentions, or to detect their impositions. They are always
ready, always prepared, with arrangements to support their statements.
Perhaps a better instance to exemplify their disregard of truth, and the
lengths they will go to attain their objects, cannot be adduced, than
one which we select from a letter of the "_Times_ commissioner," who
visited the property of Mr O'Connell. After describing the general
wretchedness of the population, this gentleman proceeds--"A little apart
from these was the house of T. Sullivan, jun., who, with his twelve
children, a sick cow, and two pigs suffering under some grievous malady,
occupied the same room. In answer to our enquiries as to his condition,
he replied that the food of himself and family all the year round was
potatoes and buttermilk. 'Were the potatoes good?' 'Troth they were
not--bad as could be,' (and he proved the assertion by cutting open a
number of them taken at random from a heap, and showing us the extent of
the disease.) 'Had he plenty of potatoes?' 'Indeed he had not.' 'Of
milk?' 'Never--nor half enough--never had e