This pledge was adopted formally in the Pillar Room of the Rotunda, in presence of most of the Irish mayors, the leading delegates of the country, the members of the Eighty-Two Club, and a vast concourse of gentlemen both from the metropolis and the provinces.  It was proposed by William Smith O’Brien, seconded by Henry Grattan, and put to the meeting from the chair by the eldest son of Daniel O’Connell.  The cheer that hailed its adoption was a shout not of approval, but defiance.  But alas! many voices mingled in the chorus which have since been attuned to the meanest whine of mendicancy.  That they vilely belied their solemn promise were of little moment.  Nay, more, it is bootless to consider whether they were more false-tongued and false-hearted in that great pageant, or on the recent occasion of their kneeling in their own shame to pledge a faith they do not feel, in expectation of some royal notice or royal favour.  What is mournful in both instances is this, that a show of wealth, a practice of successful chicanery called good sense, or public trust won by intrigue and falsehood, should so blind the world to the man’s rotten and vulgar heart as to raise them to a position where their acts should be regarded as indicative of the feeling or important to the destiny of a nation.

With the 30th of May, passed off the excitement of which it was the cause and scene.  Those who arranged the grand pageant of that day, and invested it with attributes, suggestive, imposing and useful as ever decked a public spectacle, would have wrought it out into a sterner purpose:  but the heart upon which they counted had, even then, died.  Mr. O’Connell’s speech too painfully bespoke his utter inability to guide the nation in any higher effort.  The energy that should have seized the occasion to confirm the people in their strong purpose, and elevate their hopes to the level of the great stake at issue, exhausted itself in balancing the routine details of cold and empty statistics.  The curtain fell, and nothing remained but grotesque figures, withered garlands, broken panels and desolate dust, which mingled confusedly behind the scene, over the dark, deserted stage.  The journals, of course, preserved, for a few days, very glittering reminiscences of the scene.  With one accord, they pronounced it surpassing in interest and importance.  Great results were anticipated in the newspaper world; and many imagined they had fulfilled the last obligations they owed their country.  But with the men, who had fondly hoped to date therefrom a new era and begin a nobler task, the 30th of May, was of dark, despairing augury.  They clearly saw that from that hour forth there remained but the alternative of abandoning their cherished hopes, or attempting to realise them without the aid, perhaps in opposition to the wishes, of Mr. O’Connell.  It was a gloomy and sad conviction, but it was no longer to be blinked.