The crisis in O'Connell's destiny had come.
The glitter of the golden bribe was in his eye; the sound of titled
magnificence was in his ear; the choice was before him to sit high among
the honorable, the titled, and the powerful, or to take his humble seat
in the hall of St. Stephen's as the Irish demagogue, the agitator, the
Kerry representative. He did not hesitate in his choice. On the first
occasion that offered he told the story of Ireland's wrongs, and demanded
justice in the name of his suffering constituents. He had put his hand
to the plough of reform, and he could not relinquish his hold, for his
heart was with it.
Determined to give the Whig administration no excuse for neglecting the
redress of Irish grievances, he entered heart and soul into the great
measure of English reform, and his zeal, tact, and eloquence contributed
not a little to its success. Yet even his friends speak of his first
efforts in the House of Commons as failures. The Irish accent; the harsh
avowal of purposes smacking of rebellion; the eccentricities and flowery
luxuriance of an eloquence nursed in the fervid atmosphere of Ireland
suddenly transplanted to the cold and commonplace one of St.
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