An inspector asks this question:  “Is a man who owns a horse, or a cow, or such things, destitute?” The Commissioners answer:  “No, in the abstract; but better give him relief than to drive him to permanent destitution.”  On the 27th of May an inspector, who appears to have been in a state of worry and excitement, writes to head-quarters:—­“Entirely deserted by the landlords and their representatives; the working of the Committee [he names a particular committee] has fallen into the hands of a class who insist on ‘Universal Relief!’ who will not think of scrutinizing lists to prevent fraud, and who are eager to have brothers, cousins, and dependants employed in the distribution.”  Alluding to the violence on the part of the people, another inspector writes:  “I have spoken to the Roman Catholic Clergymen on this subject, and take this opportunity of stating that I have received great assistance from those gentlemen.”  Another says:  “The people who ought to have an interest in checking abuses are mostly absentees, and the few who are living in the country try all they can to provide for their own tenants.”  Another:  “All jobbing and intrigue here.”  Another:  “A day or two since I found the wife of a coachman of a magistrate of L2,000 a year on the relief list.”  The Commissioners, however, were strongly of opinion that the introduction of cooked food was a great means of checking fraud.

Up to the 17th of June there were 570 electoral divisions which had received neither grant nor loan; some of these were the richest, and some were the poorest in the country.  Perhaps, says the Report, the rich ones had other means, and the poor ones could not get the loan, and may have had the remains of subscriptions.  The Commissioners had much difficulty in getting the accounts from committees; the clerks in rural districts were, for the most part, totally inefficient, and the weekly stipend of twenty-one shillings was not sufficient to induce any person accustomed to keep accounts to quit the towns and undertake such duties.

Ireland, it would seem, was destined at this time to have sorrow upon sorrow; her great Liberator, O’Connell, died in May, 1847.  For some time his powers had been evidently failing, and no wonder, after the life of hard work he had gone through.  Besides, he was in his seventy-second year.  Many members of his family lived to be much older, and he used to say, good-humouredly, that they had a trick of living till ninety.  But they did not labour as he did.  The writer heard him in Conciliation Hall, shortly before he went to England for the last time, and his feebleness was painful, especially to any one who remembered his proud, defiant energy in earlier years.  The quarrels and dissensions, which had arisen amongst the national party teased, and depressed him, and must have affected his health.  It was observed, too, by his friends, and indeed by all, that his imprisonment in Richmond told considerably upon him; his speeches,