The undertaking suggests but one painful consideration—­the impossibility of treating the subject fully and fairly without investigating facts far anterior to the late struggle, but coincident in their effect with its progress and development, and stamping their pernicious and fatal influence upon the spirit and conduct that led to a final overthrow.  This will necessarily involve an inquiry into the late conduct and teaching of Mr. O’Connell, which the writer would most willingly avoid.  Mr. O’Connell’s name and character fill a mighty space in history.  They are the most cherished recollections in his country’s memory; and she clings to them with loving pride in this her hour of utter desolation.  The hand that traces these recollections would be the last to aim a blow at the object of her sacred affections; and if in obedience to a more binding obligation, Mr. O’Connell’s policy be questioned and condemned, his influencing motive shall be unchallenged and unarraigned.  What his final purpose was, and how he had determined to effect it, had his life been spared, and his course left unimpeded, now rest with him in his grave.  It is for others to write his history and vindicate his career.  By me even his mistakes shall be treated with forbearance.

A brief reference to the struggle for Catholic Emancipation becomes here imperative.  That struggle has had no equal in history—­nor for its moral grandeur, nor for its triumph—­but for the singular difficulties which the position of the Irish Catholic imposed on those who engaged in it.  It is an error to call it emancipation.  It was neither the first nor the last, nor even the most important in the train of concessions, which are entitled to the name of emancipation.  The pains and penalties of the “penal laws” had been long abolished, and that barbarous code had been compressed into cold and stolid exclusiveness.  But the vices which a long and unrelenting slavery had burned into the character of the country, remained.  The lie of law, which assumed the non-existence of the Catholic had infused itself into his nature, and while it was erased from the statute book, it was legible on his heart.  That terrible necessity of denying his feelings, his property, his religion and his very being, had stamped its degrading influence on his nature.  In a moral sense the law had become a truth—­there was no people.  The Catholic gentry, giddy by their recent elevation, had only changed for that semblance of liberty their old stern spirit of resistance and revenge.  Their new concessions hung gracefully around them, but they were like grafts on an ash stock—­their growth was downward, and they wanted the stature and dignity of the native tree.  Such were the means at Mr. O’Connell’s disposal.  His enemies on the other hand were false, powerful, dexterous and unscrupulous.  His efforts necessarily partook of the character both of the weapons he was obliged to wield and the foes he struck down.  As he advanced