[Q] The name of Ireland, brings to my mind, the great O'Connell, the pride of his country, the wonder of England, and the admiration of the world. When I read the direful grievances of that ill-treated nation, I wish, for the sake of England, (which I dearly love) that those grievances had never been written, either on the pages of history, or on the records of heaven. Oh, Ireland, how thou remindest me of the sufferings of my Saviour! "a man of sorrow, and the outcast of the people." Had not _his_ divine example been continually before _thy eyes_, thou never couldst have endured thy load of miseries, of sorrows, and of persecution, and so nobly have proved thy loyal allegiance to thy sovereign, even amidst a deluge of insults, and of wrongs, and of injustices, that would have maddened any other nation, into a whirlwind of fury, and revenge, and rebellion; but thou rememberedst the words of thy Saviour, "love your enemies, do good to them that hate you, and persecute you." But thy days of sufferings and of sorrow are, I hope, hastening to a close; but perhaps, the time of retribution for England has yet to come. Oh, may Heaven avert this dreadful day of reckoning for my dear country! But, Oh, Ireland, I must not forget the pride of thy heart--the great O'Connell--the much-abused and calumniated Dan. He is now, indeed, beyond this land of misery; but alas, he died a beggar! Yes, HE whom the newspapers _formerly_ held up, as a _most base knave_, a _deceiver_, and a _money-hunter_, _even he_ at last, died a beggar, for the _love_ of his country. He nobly sacrificed his, from ten to fourteen thousand a year, which he was making by his profession, and in lieu, accepted the comparatively small and precarious offerings of his countrymen, every farthing of which he spent in promoting their welfare; he blasted all the patrimonial prospects of his own family, and at last, died a martyr and a beggar, for his country; and yet, there is not one English Protestant newspaper to do him common justice, by _even hinting_ at these _heroic_ actions. Oh, how justly may I address them in the severe words of the poet: "You all did hate him once, but without cause, What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him? Oh, judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts! And men have lost their reason." But, Oh immortal Dan! their praises or censures to thee are equally worthless, for thy colossal deeds during life, and thy heroic death, have immortalized thy name. But of all thy sorrows, the _stab_ that _burst_ thy generous soul, was the "_unkindest cut of all_;" for when some of thy countrymen, whom thou hadst _raised and honoured_, wished to take into their hands the maddening weapons of injustice, revenge, and rebellion, and wished to bury thy dear country in the ruins of bloodshed and revolution, thou,