qualified him to inflict. But he put down the man's face in his
retentive memory, and made up his mind to pay him off.

And now the business of the day commenced. After some official delays
and arrangements Sheil arose, and began his speech in defence of John
O'Connell. It would be out of place here to give either his words or
his arguments; besides, they have probably before this been read by all
who would care to read them. When he commenced, his voice appeared, to
those who were not accustomed to hear him, weak, piping, and most unfit
for a popular orator; but this effect was soon lost in the elegance of
his language and the energy of his manner; and, before he had been ten
minutes on his legs, the disagreeable tone was forgotten, though it was
sounding in the eager ears of every one in the Court.

His speech was certainly brilliant, effective, and eloquent; but it
satisfied none that heard him, though it pleased all. It was neither
a defence of the general conduct and politics of the party, such as
O'Connell himself attempted in his own case, nor did it contain a chain
of legal arguments to prove that John O'Connell, individually, had
not been guilty of conspiracy, such as others of the counsel employed
subsequently in favour of their own clients.

Sheil's speech was one of those numerous anomalies with which this
singular trial was crowded; and which, together, showed the great
difficulty of coming to a legal decision on a political question, in
a criminal court. Of this, the present day gave two specimens, which
will not be forgotten; when a Privy Councillor, a member of a former
government, whilst defending his client as a barrister, proposed in
Court a new form of legislation for Ireland, equally distant from that
adopted by Government, and that sought to be established by him whom he