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To commemorate bis 

many contributions to scholarship 

and his long association 







^cinzedoy Google 

r^cinzedoy Google 

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^^^ -'-'Google 

Wy, P«M« •I'l StmajT*. 



Aa IiUi fUr and Spolleeii T6nb-A Marriaga Fiopoul — In Uniter Agent 
— A n Ud Iridi S^nln and UnioD Lord 

CbriHiBn ForglTWMw Krth and Origin of Ur. HKnatcbr— Mr, Hkkman, 
the Head Agait— Dut^ OlMTe, (be BailiS-aod an InatnctiTe 

If "SUtae, a Bdighnu AttoriOT— HI* OfBoe— Varallf Darotfanu-^ 
' SoUUtote lot Brgikftiit— MiBjrlaion of BUipbemy— Letter oa 


fiM IM)8n, the Oiild-Cidger— St^mond, bar •oa--J%ort IMalMM on Om 
timea — Pi^'iOtdniancnitbeCaiueaorimniDralltT—SoloaKaiuiMienMM 
.-A8qi>ire<iftheOUSdMMU.AndaHoralDialogDS ... I 

Itacription of a Summer ETenlns— & MrgtertaM IfeetlnK— A Jallaaa 
VUon — Letter Ihim SqniK Deakei to Lord Cnmber-^^Lord Cmnb^a 


Tlw lifc and Vlrtnci of u Iriih Abeentee— I>aliM of an IriA Landlord— 

An Apologne on Ftopertj — Keawnu for appi^nUng an Agent — 

H'Clntchy'a Notion of hia dntiea— Beoeipt to make a ^'ortj-SbiUing 

Aecfaolder i 


KeAeeOcfu cm AbaeotMiBm— ViTtnw of a LoTat Uu^itrate — A mull doM 

of Flattery— A Brace of Bleaunn— Darbr bu NotiMU of becomiDK a 

Ooovert— ffinti to a Trtuty B^llff, vitb a bit of H7iter7,.-Dniin lihu, 

■nd the Ccmftvta rf Cbiiitmu Ere — &n Erterndnatlon . . . I 


A Wlnlet HoRdnK— I>OTcrt7 and Sorrow— Fatbcr Eocbe— A 'Monatain— Cabin on tbe Moork^H'Clntehj't 
™ * — TbeConfliot— AltaWeDeath I 

r^cinzedoy Google 



J THjJotfue, exhibitiiig dngulM- priDcIpIes of Justice — Salomon ■ Tncti 
■ivl ^mnmpb— A tUncere Coaiert— Darby'i Viewi of ReUgion— FoU 
DMdin'i Hoiiei^ — Solomon** Chriatiati Geaemi^ to > H»a in difllcnlty 
M'Longblin wid bwE'Hnilf •>•.••>• 19B 

A Datiflil Qrandaon, and a Bnpectalile GraDdiwiUier— MlUtuy IMakgne— 
DisobcdleDceof Orden-^Soloinoii's CBodonr— A Confldentjal Comnitiiii- 
cfttion — Solomon daoces the SfgferinH Jig— -Horteat C<»*efpoiideiice — 
Dub}''! Notion of Spiritual TUntt—Tiro Kdigiooi batter tlua On^- 
Parbf'aLoTeotTruUi . . , 147 


Darbj and Solomon at Ka;a-_An imtiDce of Fare Chori^ — Candidates 
for ConTcruoD— An Appropriate Confidence — Tbe Re*. Phineai Lucre 
and hii Curate^ Hi. Ctanent— The Ber. Father Boche, and hit Curate, 
FadwrU'CdM 16* 

InterTlev betwMD Daib^ and Mr. Lncre — Daiby feeU ScriptonJ, and 
wai aa BcriptDrallT bitted—Mr. Lncie'B Chriitian Diapceltion towahU 
FaAer M'Cabe— A fen Brandi ofl^ themKlree to be plncked from 
theBumloB^llielrCtaaUflcationifwConTenian, asrtatedbjtbenndTa 191 

Cwbj'i hiicr ratinmot from 

Dbaturion, together wl& tba Tlrttiw It indooe^ 
" aFoUioUft a 

Foil Do«Ui)'« Honcatr, and Fhll'a GaltantT^—A BeantdfU but Cowaid^f 
Method of X>e«tR>7ing Female Bepntatkm— A DotnldUaiX Tlail from 
tbe Blood-hoonda— bnaponoble Fowa . -, . . . .3 


IntradneQon erf a Sew Chancier— Object* of an Sn^li}i TmnOer— Cor- 

reipondence between Etm^ Eaod, Saq., and Sam Spinueberd, Eaq-, — 

SuMona and tbe EUert «r, tbe CenrentiGle In Trwlifa-4^'« Gallantr/ 

and Conraige 3 

. . .mUkily pMjed fiw— Hia . . . _ 

and IViumpb — An OrangemMi'a Viev of Frotestantiam and of tapaj— 

Bciaeaoa in troaUe— ]ji pnUkily pMjed tot — Eia Gradoaa MiToance 

andlViumpb — An Orangeman'a Viev Ol* " . - — 

Fbil'a l}i«c>eUon and Vnddt 


A Moral Snrter. or > Win Han led br a Fo<d^-HaTki of Uiqiiat Ageut^t— 

Reflectiona therepn— A Honntun Waternnat, and Riung of a Tbrrent — 

Tba Insane Hother OTer tho Qravei « Iter Family— Jt^ynuud'a Hu- 

WaiV— Hit Beacw&om death 




Crnd OMMinMoCM of Phill Plot agmiMt Hair If iMwhUn— 1> 
DetennfaurtKn of ber Brotben — An Oath of fikwd—FUhtf I 

Knowledge of Naturo— Inlerriew between Hair and Imt Brol 

InHnence and Triumph of DonKrtic ABbction-Jbi ExecnUon by Val'i 


Am Onaga Lodge at Full Work— Sokxnon in aU bl« Gloir— Ha deflnca 
Drinkug to be a Kdigiona Bxeiciae — True Blue and the Equivocal — 
Fbil't ao^nenoe— A Charter loaM .390 

Sobriet)' and tjoytitf — & ChKkered Dialogoe—Tbe Besnt; and NeosHitf 
of Human VnHtj—S. Bnmlii^ and Shuting Light going Home In the 
Owk— TbayalneofaLanthom 308 

A FKiteatant Charger, vith hia Piedooa BnrtbeB— A DlaafTected Hack, 
aappoitlngal^Ilartf theChuidi — A Political and Bdigioiu Pitcuatio*), 
in a friendly war->J}arbj'iFietrRnraided 311 

Eastle-Cimiber OrtnS-JnTj Boom — A Conicieutlotia Hangman — W» to a 
Olebe Honae of more importance than the waj to HeaTen — Irish Hethod 
of dlqpeniii^ Justice — Short Debate on the Spy Sjstem — Genealogical 
Mqnwanda Patriotic Freaenimcnta-A. RiTerleai Bridge . . .318 

A B«tit I]«r_B^tive PoaltioD of Landlord and Tenant— Orade* Of Ten- 
■utt7_I1ul'B Notion ftf Beapect—Faddr Corrigan'a Proteatant Wig— 
fhii and SoloBooii In a fit of admiratioii— The Widow TttrII . . 334 

Baymcoda aenae of Jnatice — Force of the Idea] — Poll Dooliu'a Remone — 
CoDTcnstitHioiiIriEhPnqper^— DiwdovnreconcemingMaryM'Loii^iIiu 350 


A Kihboa Lodge— Yal and hii Son brou^t to Trial— Ilieir Crimea agunat 
the fcople— Tlieii Doom and Sentence— A Bebcl Friest Fremching 
— IBcaplte 370 


—The lut plw tu SBtratien— llm Compoe Hcntia 

r^cinzedoy Google 


Frep«ntloiw foe the Great IMamfdon. vhich we do not ^n—XxttwxdlniiT 
bop« rf ft Modem UtmIo — Daihj u a ^)[iitii>l Oftujmteda— Solcnun 
like an Angd bwUDg into the Qo^ SSS 

SiAinioa nlhrt a Uttle Betribntion— Beqnerta Widow Leneban to 
, " WrMtlB tar him— Deaker ■ Desth.bcd— Diea loyallj whiiUing tta 
, Bofne Water 4lar 


A Death-bed tliat the Great mi^ Encj-.f hil experienoea a ipecimeiv 
of the preMore from wittioiib~BeblbiitlcHi — The Death of TalenUne 
At'Outdir 4 


Bldiard Topertoe and hi> Brother— Lord CunbeT'i Duel — Bhot b; 
Bartley— Diea in the Yisdioitioii of a Tynumical Friiiclpl&— Marriage 
of Hanuaii and M>i7 U'Loughlin — Siriomon (track ott tbe nu--- 
Bandaome comptineut to the Judge — Solomoni Death — Duues the 
' « Jlg-^ucrea Virtaei and Chrictlan Death . . . .41 


The Section, to &C0 tiHe, 

The Spcdleen Ttfit * 

BqectionofftMatiinionUlOfler 13 

Poll Doolin'a Hjiterion* Commimleatka . . . 4S 

Deatb Of Began "7 

BaTDond Defending tbe Widow 131 

DarbrODiire and Father M'Cabc 177 

The mdow'a Djring Child '8» 

BaymoDd Expoouding the Bible ■ , • 303 
Beligioui ContKTeny between Darby and Bob . . .211 

Hie nging lion tamed 330 

Ifaij and her Brother! ... . . . 37S 

8ol<vnon diaconri^ S"? 

The BiTai PanOM »W 

The Bent Day SSI 

The lUbbou Lodge SU 

Hannan't interriei^with Uary 379 

Bob pnzilea the Pnnoiu W^ 

The Vulture ruiiiuiahcd . <M 

fhil hugged in a tiglit embrace 4S3 



It «u not mr intention to hftTc written nnj Prcfhcc to IhU book, bnt to luv* 
■Uowed U (imply to tpenk tor Itself. As ic ia very likely, howcrcr, timt both It 
•ltd tbe motiTei of its author mfty be niisTcpra)cnt«d b; bigotted or renal pent, I 
think it aeceaaary to introdnce It to the rcnilcr hj n few brief obserrntion*. In 
the flnt pUc«, then, I b^ to M7, Umt the work presents phnacs of Iri!>h life and 
manners, tiut hire never been given to the public bcfbre by snj oilier writer 
upon tbe aune ml^ect. 80 flv, theretbre, tbe book la k perfectly new book_ 
not nterdy to the Irish people, but also to the English aod Scotch. I know not 
whether tbe anthentkity of the &cts and deacriptiont conUJncd in it may bo 
colled in finesUon ; but this I do know, that there Is not an AokM man, on 
either side, who ha* lived in the north of bcland, and reached the term of fifty 
yeaxr, who will not recognize the conduct ajid languag^o of Iho northern OrHUfre- 
mcn as just, truthM, and not odo whit exaggerated. To our friends acnse the 
Channel it is only necessary to say, that I wu bom In one of the most Urnnge- 
connties in Irelaoil (Tyrone) — that tlie Tioleuces and licentious BbuEcB of these 
armed ciTlliuns were prepetiatad betbre my eyes — and that the lonnda of their 
outrage* may be said atill to ring in my can. 

I have written many works upon Irish life, and up to the preaent day the 
■nan hu never lived who could lay his flnger npcm any passage of my writing*, 
and say " fiat UfaUt." I cannot, however, avoid remarking here, that within 
the laat few years, a more enlarged knowledge of lift, and a more matured inter- 
coarse with sode^. have enabled me to orcreonM many abnud prejudices with 
which I waS'imlnicd. Withont c oro promlring, bowever, the tniA or iMegrita 
of any pwtiou of my writinn, I am willing to admit, which I do ftankly and 
withoDt hesitation, that I published in my ^riy works passages wUch were not 
calculated to do any earthly good ; but, on the contrary, to give unnecesasry 
ofTence to a great naraher cr my countrymen. It is due to myself to state this, 
and to say, that In the lut edition of my works I have left as many of these 
passages ont a« I readily Muld, without diminUbing the interest, or disturbing 
tke narratlTc. 

A fortiori, then, this book may be conildered as full of truth and fidelity as 
any I have ever written ; and 1 must say, that in writing it I have changed no 
prindple whatsoever. I am a liberal Conservative, and, I trust, a rational ono 
bnt I am not, nor ever was, an Orangeman neither can I endure their eictusive 
and arrogant assumption of loyalty, nor the outrages which it has generated. 
In what portion of my former writings, for instance, did I ever pubtiah a line 
ia tbelr fiivonr. or in favour of any secret and illegal confederacy ? 

Ag«in, with regard to the I^mdlords and Areats, have I not written a tale 
called the "Poor Scholar, and another called "Tmbber Derg? In botji 01 
irhidi thdr eoimpttoni and oppreaaiona are exposed. Let it not be mistaken. 
The two great enrsea of IreUutd are bad lAudlords and bad Agent*, and in 

_. — ■ — - 1 of eveiT twenty, the origin of the crime lies with the Land- 

rtead of ttie Tenant. 

a the EetabUtbed Chordi of forty years ago, If then Is any 


HltrM, a bet which wai unknown forty jenn ant. We hnre now more 
GraogeUdiiD, And conwqncntlj niore aleekneM nod njpocrii^, more eitcnul 
decofun, uid, I would alM tnut, nwre intenul ipiritiulitjt. We hare now 
many eminent and pknu FMlatea In tiie Church, wbote admlraUe examfje la 
enooxheren totliamcflieCIernmeii under thcmintOftMnseof theiidotr- It 
ii tobewWted thatwebadna^morenicb as they, for th(.y arc wanted. The 
IfiBh Erangdical party are certainly very nnmerooB, and they iniut paidon me 
a ilisht Bnachroniun or two regarding them, conccnnng what hat been termed 
the Modern Reformation in these Tolumca. Arc those who compose thla «an>o 
nuty, by the way, acqnainted with their own orifcio ? If not, I will tell than. 
Tiny weie b^^tten by the actlTe spirit of the Church of Rome, upon thrir pwn 
ealuiliihment, when ihe wat asleep ; bo that the^ owe tlicir veiy exiataice to 
thoae whom tluT look npon aalhdr enemies; and if it were only to thti Kaaroi 
aloae, there ou^t to be more peace between them. In England the lame ajHrit 
hat effbcted a similar aedoction on thai Establishment, but witt this difleremce, 
that the Fnseyltes an a much more obedient and datihil progeny than the 
IHsb Erangelicale— Inasmuch na they hava the grace to acknowledge the rela- 

This book wm written to exhibit a naef^l moral to the coontiy. It will 
startle, I humbly tnut, many a hard-hearted Landlord and flagitious Arent 
into a perception of thdr dnty, and It will show the negligent and reckless 
Absentee how those frran whoso toils and struggles he derives his support are 
opprcsBed, and Ceeced, and trampled on. io his name. 

It will also tench the violent and bigotlcd Conservative— or, in other words, 
the man who ilill inherits the Orange sentiments of past times — a lesson tliat he 
ou^ht not to fortKt. It viU also t«st the whole spirit of modern Conservatism, 
and its libcnitily. If there be at the press, or any where else, a malignant 
bigot with great rancour and little honesty. It it veiy Ukcly he will attack my 
booki and this, of course, he is at liberty to do. I deny, however, that modem 
Conservatism is capable of adopting or chcrUhing the outrages which disgraced 
the Orangemen of fortj jrairs ago, or even of a later period. And for this 
reason 1 am confident that the Conserrative Press of Ireland will not only 
sustain mo but flght mj battles. If 1 shall bo ungenerously attacked. I«( them 
look npon thew pictures, and if it crer should ^ppen. tlut arms and irreapon- 
dble power shall be entrusted to them, perhaps the recollection of thur truth 
nuy teach them a lesson of forbearance and humanity towards those who diftl'r 
froni them in creed, that may bo of important service to aor common conntry. 
If to, I shall have rendered a service to that country, which, as is usual, may 
probably be recognized a* Taluable, when perhaps my bonct arc mouldering in 
the clay, and my ear inscntlble to all guch acknowledstaents. 

As for myself, I have been so completely sickened by the bigotted on each 
side, that I hare come to the determination, as every honest Irishman ouglit, of 
knowing no party bnt my conntry, and of dcroting such talents as God bar 
given me, to the pKnaotim ii her general interests, and the hap^ness of bei 
whole people. 

Dubtln, Noven^a U 

r^cinzedoy Google 






Tks town of Cutle Cumber it is not our intention to describe 
■t more length th&n simply to uj, that it consists of two long Stioels, 
intersecting each other, and two or three lanes of cabins — many 
of them mod ones — ^that stretch oat of it on each side at right 
angles This street, and these straggling ^pendagee, together with 
a ehoreb, a prison, a coart-hoose, a Catholic ch^id, a FresbTterian 
meedng-honse, a few shops, and half a doien public hooses, present 
to the spectator all the features tJiat aie generally necessary for 
the description of that class of remote country towns of which 
we write. Indeed, with the exception of an ancient Stone Cros^ 
that stands in the middle of the street, and ft Fair-green, as it is 
termed, or Common, where its two half-yearly fairs aie held, and 
which lies at the west end of it, there is litUe or n<dhing else to be 
added. The fair I particularly mention; because, <ai the day on 
which the circnmstanoes I am about to describe oocnrred, a fair was 
held in the town, and upon tlie green in question. The month was 
December — the day stormy and URprt^itious, There had been a 
deep snow and hard frost for nearly three weeks before i but now 
the aspect of the wlute earth, cmtrasted wildly with the large maSM* 
of black douds which hung motionless in the air, and cast a dark 
and gloomy spirit, not only over the appearance of inanimate natnr^ 
but into the heart cf man himself^ 

About noon, just when the whole fair had been assemUed, the 
ttana eoaaofeaeei wUii wind, sleet, and rain. Never was « nan 



striUng or naflzpected cbange produced. Women, tucked up newlj 
to the knees, their garments, eoaked with wet, clinging to th^ 
bodies and limbs, as if a part of thenuelTes— ^nen drenched and 
buttoned up to the chin — all plashing through the slipper; streetft^ 
their shoes spouting with snow-broth — the falling of tents — the 
ehonting against the loudness of the storm, in order to be heard — the 
bleating of abeep, loving of cattle, the deafening and wild hum 
of confuted noises — aU, when added to the roaring of the sweeping 
blast, the merciless pelting of the rain, and the inclement character 
of the whole day, presented a scene that waa tempestuous and desolate 
beyond belief. Age, decrepid and shivering — youth, bennmbed and 
stidened with cold — rich and poor, man and woman, all bad evidently 
but one object in view, and that was shelter. 

Love, charity, amusement, bu^ess, were all mther disappointed, 
or forced to suspend their operations, at least for the present. £vei7 
one ran or walked as quickly as possible, with the exception of some 
forenoon drunkard, who staggered along at his ease, with an eye half 
insolent and half stupid, careless, if not unconscious, of the wild 
uproar, both elemental and otherwise, by which he was surrounded. 

Nay, the very be^trs and impoetor^~to whom, in general, severe 
weather, on such occasion^ is a God-send, as it presents them to 
their f^low-creatures in a more pitiable aqtect — were glad to 
diaperse. In tmtb, the effect of the storm upca them was perfectly 
miittcalouB. Many a poor creature, blind fnHu birth or infknt^, 
was gifted with, cnr restored to ezoellent sight — ^the maimed wece 
auddenly oured — the deaf made to hear — the dumb to apeak — and 
the sturdy baocagh, or cripple, bounded away, at the rate of six milei 
an hour, cursing the whole thing as a bad spec — a dead failnret 

Solemn assifpiatioqs of long prcHnise, mstio courtships, and earnest 
match-makings, were all knocked up, unless in the case of those 
who had avuled tbemsetves of the early part of the day. Time and 
place, in fact, were completely forgotten by the parties, each being 
mzioos (mly to secure the nearest and most commodiona shelter. 
Nay, though ashamed to write il^ we are hound to confess that 
mme <tf oar countrymen were ungallant enough, on a^^jiroaeluag th^ 
sweethearts, lairty to give them the slip, or only to recognise them 
wiA a kind of dreary and equivocal salutation, that might be termed 
» ernes between a wink and a shiver. Others, however, gallantly and 
magnanimously set the tempest at d^ance, or hlesaed their stars for 
sending them an opportunity of sitting so dose to their fair inamo* 
nbu^ in order that their loving prsssoxe wight, in sone d^rM, aided 


bjr s ^am of wum punch, c<anpeiuate tb« iwest oreMtei Bob tin 
mespected drendung they had got. 

It hu been well ob9erv«d, that there ia no olaas ttf Ufe in irUdh 
1 of great tirtue and fortitude may not be found} and tbe 
a of the apothegm was fully oorraborated here. Grid, bitter, 
tenpestaons, and terrible aa waa tbe day, amidst run, wind* slaett 
and hail, there mifj^ be seen, in a thoroughfare aboat Hie centra 
of the town, a cripple, ^ipwently paralytic from the middle down, 
noted open Uw naked atreet, his legs atretdied ont before him* 
liirpUng onward, by aKemately twisting his miseraUe bodji fhxB 
right to left ; whilOi as if tiie softer sex were not to be anrpaased 
in feats of haidibood or iteroiam, a tattered creatine, in the sh^ie of 
woman, withont cap, shoe, or stocking, accompanied by two naked 
and shivering children, whose artificial lamentations were now lost 
in those cf nature, proceeded up tiie street, in the very teetli of the 
beating tempest, attempting to sing some dismal ditty, with a voice 
which resemUed the imagined shriekinga of a goal, more than the 
SGcents of a hnman being. These two were the only individnala 
who, in the troe spirit of hardened imposture, bfaved &I1 the fory of ' 
the elements in carrying ont tlieir prindides— m true is it, that 
• n^ne will often advance fitrther in the parsuit of • koaviib object, 
than an honest nuui will in the sttunment of » jnst one. To tlwin 
may be added the poor fool of the town, Baymond na hattiia, wfao^ 
from his childhood, was known to be indifferent to all changes of 
weatLer, and who now, elated by the festive spirit of a fair'^day, 
moved abont from place to place, with as much indi&Knee as if it 
bad bew a day in the month of Jnne. 

If the inclemency of the day, however, was injuriora to the 
general transaction of bosinees, there was one class to whose 
interests it am^y contributed. I meAn the publicans, and such aa 
opened th^een houses, or erected rdieB)inK»t>tentB for tJie oocaston. 
In a great portion of Ireland there arti to be foond in all fain, what 
the people term ipoilMn tents — that iS) t^ts ift which feesh mnttoa 
is boiled, and sold out^ with bread and soQp, to all cnatomers. I 
know not how it happens ; but be the motive, or eanse, what it may, 
scarcely any one ever goes into a ipoihen tent, unless in a mood of 
mkth and jocularity. To eat spcnleen serioudy, would be as rare a 
sight as to witness a wife dancing on her husband's coffin. It is 
very difficult, indeed, to ascertain the reason why the eating of fresh 
mutton, in soch circumstances, is always associated with a spirit 
of strong ridicnle and humour. At all events, nothing can exceed 


Ibe mirth tlutt ia always to be found among the -partiea who freqnenl 
mch tents. Fun, bnghter, jest, banter, attack, and repartee, fly 
about in all directions, and the only sounds heard are tbose of 
light-bearted noise and enjoyment. 

Perhaps, if the cause of this were closely traced, it might be found 
to constst in a sense of shame, which Paddy good-humonredly attempts 
to laugh away. It is well known that the great body of the people 
pass through life without ever tasting either beef or mutton — a 
circumstance which every one acquainted with the country knows 
to be true. It is also a fact, that nineteen out of every twenty who 
go in to eat spoileen, are actuated more by curiosity than hunger, 
inasmuch as they consist of such persons as have never tasted it 
before. This, therefore, being generally known, and each possessing 
a latent consciousness of its truth, it is oonsidered best to take the 
matter in good humour, and escape the shame of the thing, together 
with the poverty it implies, by turning it into ridicule and jest. This, 
indeed, ia pretty evident, from the nature of the spoileen-keeper's 
observatitms on beiugpud, which are usually, "Thank you, Barney j 
you maynowcoDudheryonreelf agintleman;"or, if afemale, "Long 
life to you, Bridget} you may now go into high life any time." 

It is anneceesary to aay, that on the day in qaestion, the spoileen 
t«nts were crowded to BuffocatioD. In general, these are pretty lai^; 
etoaetimes one, occasionally two fires being kept in each. Over these, 
placed upon tliree large stones, or suspended from three poles, united 
at top, is the pot or pots in which the spoileen is boiled ; whilst 
patiently, in a comer of the tent, stand the poor invalid sheep that are 
doomed, as necessity may require, to furnish forth this humorous 

Truth to tell, there are many reasons why this feast ia a comic one. 
In the first place, Hie description of mutton which they get is badly 
calculated to prej udice honest Paddy in favour of that food in genera], 
it being well known that, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, the 
•acrifice falls upon disease, poverty, and extreme old age; or, if 
there be any manifestation of humanity in the selection, it is, that 
i^ije the tenderer sex is spared, the male one is in general certain 
to be made the victim, but never unless when he has been know to 
■osoh a most jtatriarcbal length of years. Then the suddenness of the 
act which conr^rts a portion of the venerable patriarch into a com- 


r^cinzedoy Google 

- THE IRISH agent; S 

pMient part of honeot Paddy, is eqnallj remarkable ; for it genenlljr 
luppanB that tha anitnal now sUnding in a comer of the tent, will 
in aboat half an hour, be undergoing the process of aBsimilation in his 
(Paddy's) gastric region. The elastic quality of the meat is, indeed, 
extraordinary ) and snch as, with the knowledge of that fact, does 
•ometim£a render Paddy's treat <^ tpoiUen to bis streetheart an act 
of very questionable gallantry. Be this aa it may, there is scarcely 
anything in life richer than to witness a tent of ^Kiileai eaters in 
full operation. Tugging, pulling, dragging, tearing swinging of the 
head trom side to side, want of success, loss of temper, fatJgue of 
jaw, tecovBiy of good humour, and the wolfish rally, mingled with 
inock curaes, load laughter, shouting and singing, all going on together, 
■re the ordinary characteristics of this most original banquet 

About tite centre of ^e town stood one of thoee houses of enter- 
tainment which holds rank in snch towns as a bead inu. On the 
day in question, it was painfully OTercrowded ; and such was the 
hnbbub of load talk, laughter, singing, roaring, and tiiumping of 
ttdries, that it was almost impossible to hear or understand anything 
in tiie shape of conTetsation. To this, however, there was one 
eocception. A small closet, simply large enough to hold a table and 
two abort fcMias, opened itwa a room above stairs looldng into the 
back yard. In this there was a good Are, ^t which sat two men, 
bein^ with a turn-up bed and small table, nearly as many as it was 
capable of holding with ease. 

One of the«e was a stout, broad-shouldered person, a good deal 
knock-kneed, remarkably sallow in the complexion, with Inows black 
and beetling. He sqainted, too, with one eye ; and what, between 
this circumstance, a remarkably sharp hot hooked nose, and the 
lowering brows a&traaaid, there was altc^ether about him a singular 
expression of aouteness and malignity. In every sense,' he was a 
person against whom you would feel disposed to gnard yourself, 
whether ia the ordinary intercourse of Uie and its transactions, or 
■till more In the secret woiUngs of the daiker and more vindictive 
pasnons. He was what they call a down looking man j that is, one 
who, in conversation, could never look you strught in the face, 
which fact, t«^ether with a habit of quivering observable in his upper 
lip, when any way agitated, gave unquestionable proof that his 
cowardice was equal to his malignity, as his treachery wss to both. 
His age might be about fif^, or perhaps beyond it. 

The other was a tail man, well featured, of a dear, fresh complexion, 
• fine Idne eye, and^ altogether, a kind, benevolent expression of 


He had been ratber stout, but not robuit, and mlgfa^ 
perhapB, at tlie tims we write ot, be about die same age w hia 
eompanuHi. He was evidentlj a man tii respectability, well dreased, 
not badly educated, and, on ihe present occasion, wore good broad- 
elotb and top boots. The contrast between him and the other, was 
in nothing more striking than the honest, jojons spirit of bis laughter, 
which rang clearly and mellowly on your ear, leaving behind it an 
uDpressi<m (^ candour, Ugbt-beartedness, and good nature, that could 
not be mistaken. 

" It's idle talk to speak about going such a day as this," observed 
the beetle-browed man, who stirred up the fire with something that 
passed for a poker, in reply ; " and to tell you the truth, upon my 
credit, Mr. M'Loughlin, I'm not sorry that we happened to meet 
Yoa're a man Tve a sincere regard for, and always had ; and on that 
account we'll have something more to drink." So saying, he stamped 
upon the floor, which was exactly over the bar, in order that soma 
one might attend them with the liquor. 

" Tm obliged to you, Val," replied his companion, dryly, ** for your 
good opinion of me ; but, at the same time, God forbid that ever I 
should deserve it, eh? hs, ha, ha. Well, well, iet us have some 
drink, as you say, at all events ; only it must be at my expense, as well 
as the rest. Well, sure enough, you were the devil's whip-thong all 
your life ; and iFyoHhavcu'trepentedyet,fkll I can say is, there is little 
time to lose, ir you wish to have a bright look up at the last day" . 

"Ha, ho, go on, IKr. M'Loughlin, we all know yon, the same 
pleasant fellow you ever were ; and, upon my credit, as good a 
companion as any one could sit with. All I wish is, that we had 
here more of the funily on both sides *, my Phil and your Mary, for in- 
stance, who probably might have something to whisper to one another." 

**! didn't care we had, Val, my boy; but how on earth will wo get 
home ? Indeed, such a terrible day I've seldom seen, for many years." 

" Faith, if s good to have a dry roof over our heads, and a warm 
fire before na, at any rate. There's many a poor, half-drowned devil 
in the fair would give a trifle to change places with as; there is, 
upon my credit." 

In a few minutes the refreshmmts came in, much to the satisfaction 
of the parties, who felt a strong sense of comfort, on contrasting the 
warmth of their snug little room, with the uproar of the storm that 
raged without, and spent its fury upon the cold, bloak, and almost 
deserted streets. 

1 am glud, indeed, Mr. M'Loughlin," continued his companion, 


''that I happened to meet vith yoa to-day— yon and I an now 
neighboun, and Borel; we ought to live tike neighbours.* 

" Well)" replied M'Loughlin, diyly, " and don't we do n P Ton 
IiATfln't found me tronUesome as a neighbonr, have yon ? Eh, V4 
my man P" 

"No," a^d the other, "eertainly I have not — upon my eiedU 1 
liaTen% an' thatTi what X oomplaln of { neither yon nor your fuoily 
aModate witb me or mine." 

"Tnt, Tal, man," cepliod Mlion^tliDi etill in the same dry, ironi- 
cal tone as before, "rardy it^a not long Bince you came to march us. 
I^B only two years and a half since yon wormed out the CHagans; 
tiien the fcnn lay near two years idle — ay — ^why, man, you're not 
four months cur nei^bour yet" 

"No — not all out; still, Mr. M'Loughlin, somehow you dont treat 
me or my family as neigbbonrs. If yon have to borrow anything 
no matter what it ia, yoa never cmne to me for it. It was <Mily the 
other day that yon wanted a rope to pull that breeding mare of your^ 
ont of the drain — and yet yon sent past me near half a mile, up to 
Widow Len^an's, to bwrow it." 

"Heavens pity yon, Yal, for ifa a hard case j hut every one has 
tb^ troubles, and it seems you are not without your own, poor man 
~^li— hal hal ha) Wdi, never mind, my friend t you're better off 
BOW, for all that, than when you were only a process-server on the 
estate; however, m tell yon what, Val the Vultnre — ^you see I can 
be neighbourly sometimes — just let me know whenever you stand in 
need of a rope— mark, I don't say whenever you dattrvt it — and 
may I never tastd worse liquor than this, but yon shall have it 
with rightgood will; hoping atUl that yonll makea proper use of it— 
lial hal hal Come,mBn, in the mean time take your liquor, an' don't 
look as if you'd eat me withont salt t for I tell yon, if yon tried il^ 
jon^d And Brian MfLonghlin a tougher morsel than you imagine." 

"If any person else spoke to me in the style you do, Brian, Td not 
be apt to overlook it; upon my credit and reputation I would not." 

"Not 1>Qt you'd look round It may be, hal hal hal but go on, 
Tnltore, who minds what I say?" 

"Nobody, to be sure^ because yon make one langh whether th^ 

"Fahb, Vnltme dear, and that^a what nobody can tax you with; 
or, if yon do, ifs on the wrong side of the mouth yon do it— and 
they say that some is but indifferent mirth, Vsl." 

"I WTiib, Brian, you would sometimes qieak seriouslyt and bedde^ 


jmfn alwayi bard, too hvd npon me. Anything I did hanlily, it 
WW liwxja in the diachkrge of my iatj," 

"Nent mind, Yal, the fewer of Iheee old sores jou rip up, the 
ketter for jouiself — I'm not going to put you throiigli your cate- 
chism about them. If you're wise, let bygones be by-gones ; toLs 
that advioe from m& WhaWver tricka you may have practiaed, 
you're now a wealtliy man, and for the lame reason the wortd will 
help you to forget them, if you keep your toe in your pump." 

"I ant a wealthy man, and can set the wortd at defiance, if it 
goes to that; yes, Brian, a wealtluer man than the world thinks — r 
and, as X aud, I defy iU" 

"Faith, and you needn't, for Ibe world won't put you to that 
trouble, at least a great part of it, if you were ten times the Vulture 
you are, so long as you have a full purse> Eh, do you perceive me? 
hal ha! Ixa!" 

" Well, damn the devil, heaven pardon me for swearing, for it's 
a thing I hate " 

" . I III And yet many a &t oath you've bolted in your time. Now, 
on the nick of your consciance, Yal, darling, how many bibles did 
you wear out, by a long and honest course of hard swearing P— eh 
—hal hal hal" 

"Hal hat hal Brian, I see there is little nee in speaking to you, 
•r being angry with yon: you are a devilish pleasant hearty fellow, 
only something a little loo rongh about the t^mgue." 

"Never mtad, Yal, by all accounts it would be easy to reekoa 
them) but seriously, is it true that the lower joint of your right 
thumb is liomy, in eonseqnence of having caught the character of 
your eoDScience, Irom having kisaed it so often?" 

"Oo on, Brisn, go on; to be sure it is; they may say what they 
like — Fm not depending upon them, and I care little. But now, 
llrian, there is one thing I will say, and I have long wished for an 
opportunity of saying it." 

"That's my bnlly, out with iti don't be dashed, Yal, youll get 
over your modestyi upon my credit you will-^ial hal hal" 

"D — n it, you can't be serious for a minute; but no matter, I will 
out with it — here's your health aud fireude, in the mean time!" 
Brian merely nodded in reply, but said nothing. "Now yon know, 
Brian, your proper^ and mine lie very snugly beside «w another; 
observe that Ikaft what I begin withP 

" Yerj good." 

"Again, your family and mine live very cltwe to one another toa" 


"Very good," 

"Now, what if part of tbe propertieB, and part of tiie fimriBeit 
were to become united, and get spliced together, eb?* 

**'Tery good, very good." 

"•Well, but do yon really Hiink so, Brian?" 

"Goon, if you please, and let ns bear more of it} etala your eaae 
—as yoa say at tbe Bosaions." 

"Well, tben, there's your d&ughter Mary, a handaome girl, and, 
by all accounts, as good as she is handsome; and there's my son 
I^iil, whot excepting Hie eatt* — is — bnl^ at any rate, if he's no 
bean^, h^s a stout young fellow, for you know yourself that that 
little cloeeness about the knees is always a sign of strength." 

" That little cloeeness, Val I — ^why, Ynlture, darling, isn't one knee 
ongaiMxady, and the other licking it?— but go on, il^s not bad for 
■o fkr, go oni np<Ki my credit i^e not." 

"I am glad yon like it for so &r — tben seriously what would you 
think of a marriage betwcm themP" 

" Deril a prettier move you could make, YaL As yon say, the 
lands and the fomiliee lie convenient to one another — and I don't 
see wha^a to prevent your proposal from being realized. Toull do 
wen for Fhil, of course — for although he has the squint in both 
eyes, instead of only in one, like yourself — and is twisted- very 
much about the knees, more than yon are a good deal — still Val — 
neighbour Yal, as I now may call you — he is a stout, left-leg|^d, 
roond-shonldered blade ; and I question whether the red poll does 
not become ^v" better than a black one like Tour's would." 

"Why, I grant yon, Brian, that he looks better on horseback than 
on foot, and when mounted on 'Handsome Harry,' with top boots 
and spars, ilfs not on every highway yon could meet his equaL" 

" Devil a lie in that, YaL~nor a boy better made to ride or shoot 
round a comer yon could not meet in Europe—but never mind; go 
on, Yal — go on, my fiiend; no^ faith, on hill or in hollow, it would 
not be easy to match him." 

"H^d make an excellent good husband." 

"He would not beyottr sou if he did not — ^wellF" 

"Well, as to that, if the truth was known, I know where the 
blame would lie— your daughter will not be the shrew and scold to 
ium, that my blister was to me— upon my credit she won't." 

"Devil a lie in that either, Yal — weD, well— oh! m take my oath 
she won't." 



"I dont we why ha aod she might not be very hsppj iogeiOiar~^ 
joa Kfl able to do hradannely for bar, u report goes." 

"And willing Ytl; and a bad father Td be, if I ware ooL" 

" Well then, Brian, so far all looks faix, and dsriliah glad X Mat 
that I broached the thii^ at onoe. I have been thinkii^ of it ever 
iinoe I came to tin neigfabonrhood— npon my credit I have.* 

" Futh, and so am I glad of it— bat what* a to be done aext, VaL 

** yfhj the less time thal^s lost upon it the better — in most bring 
the Tonngsters together till the; get acquunted — then we can have 
another meeting, and settle the match oat of hand. Did yon ever 
see Phil oa 'Handsome Harry?"* 

"Didn't I? To be sure I did — and upon my word, Yal, h^s a 
credit to the horse he rides, as the horse is to him — a comely conple 
tbey kre in tnUh. But, Yal, or neighbonr Yal, as I now may call 
yon, dont yon think it would be better to wind np this business now 
that our hand's in for it P Let us hear what you'll do, and m follow 
you on my part, for there's no use in losing time about )U— upon my 
credit then^s nob" 

* What would you think, then, of the farm we're in now — that i^ 
tibe CHagan property, as yon call it? Suppose I give him that, 
what>rm you come down with for the girl? I know it caa'l be 
under a thonsand^^ome say a thousand, and if a a match." 

"A thousand I Ahl Yal, you're too soft— too moderate — too 
mild — indeed you are — why a thousand would be nothing against 
the O'Hagan property, as you cbQ it; and, indeed, I don't intend 
to put my daughter off nnder a much larger fortune. Eh, Yal, what 
do yon say, upon your credit now P" 

" Fai^ m not quarrel with you for that." 

"Well now," said Mlionghlin, rising op, whilst his honest 
features were lit with indignation, "this joke or this impudence 
on your part has gone far enough — ^listen to me. What did I or 
my family do* I ask my own conscience in the name of God— what 
sin did we commit — whom did we oppress— whom did we rol^— 
wh(»n did we persecute— that a scoundrel like yon, the bastard spawn 
of an unprindpled profiigate, remarkable only tor drunkenness, 
debauchery, and blasphemy ; what, I say, did I and my family 
do, that yon, his son, who were, and are to this day, the low, mean, 
willing scourge of every oppressor, the agent of their crimes— the 
instrument of their vilionies — ^you who undermined the honest man — 
vrho sold and betrayod the poor man — who deceived and misled the 


widow and ker orplunu. t&d rooe npon their rain — who hkve roU>ed 
your emploTsiB as well as tboM yon were emplojed agunit — « 
doaUe tntitor — eteeped in treachery, and perjured a thonaand times 
to the core of your black and deoeitfol heart — what crime, I laj 
again, did I or nuoe commit — that we, whose name and blood have 
been without a etoin for a thousand years, ihould snffer the insuh 
that yoo have now ofiered as P Eh, look me in the faoe now if you 
eaoi and answer me if yon are able ?" 

HljongUin, as he concluded, calmly folded his anno, and looked 
at his etmptiaoa reedntely, bnl sternly. The other, to do turn 
jnstaoe, did certainly raise his head, and fix his evil eye npon him 
fw a momoilt but only for a moment — it dropped after a single 
gtance ; in truth, he quailed before Mtjonghlia ; hie npper lip, as 
nsnal, quivered — his brow lowered, and looked black as midnight, 
whilst all the rest of hia face became the colour of ashes. In fact, 
that white smile, which is known to be the very emblem of cowardice 
and revenge, sat upon his countenance, stamping on it at once the 
eharscter of the spectre and the demon — a being to be both feared 
and hated. 

" Well, Brian H<Looghlin," returned the other, " hear me." 

" Don't dare to Brian me, sir," returned M'Loughliu ; " rm a very 
humble man, and ought (o be an humble man, for I know well what 
a sinner I am before Godt but, for all that, and if it were against 
even religion itself, I feel t4K> proud to suffer yon to speak to me as 
you do ; no, don't Brian me, but listen and let me show you what 
you are, and what you have been t I can't say what you mtt be, 
Ikat does not lie with any but God." 

" Well," said H'Clutehy, " go on ; I now can hear you, and 
what is more, I wish to hear yon ; and, whisper, apeak j/omr 

It is s^ that both cowardice and despair have their courage j 
sad it would appear, frcon the manner and action of this man, that 
he now felt actuated by some vague feeling resemUing that which 
we have described. He rose up and stud^ 

" Brian Mlioughlin, do you think I ever can forget this ?* 

** What do you mean by that 7" said Mlxnighlin ; " look me in the 
bee, I say, and tell me what you mean by it. Fm a man, and an 
honest man, and there's no treachery about me." 

The sternness with which he spoke mode the oUier quail again. 

" There was little in it," he replied, in a rebuked but cold and 
It spirit;" I didn't think you were so violent. I bore a great 



deal from you thU Aaj, Mr. M'LougUin — a grsat deal indeed ; tad 
■o pktientljr u I bore it too i upon mj credit I did." 

McLaughlin made no reply, but Btunped on the floor, in order to 
bring up some person to whom he might pay the reckoning 

" You need not atuup," uid the other, " this is mj shara <^ the 

» Tonr diare 1 no } I told you before, it must not be yours. I 
wouldn't have it said, that bit or sup paid for by your ill-gottan 
wealth sbonld ever cross my lips ; no, no." 

The waiter, or rather waitreas, a red-hured, barefooted wench, now 
came up. 

" Here," eaid M'Loaghlin, " take ^e refreshment we've had last 
out of that, and keep the change to yourself. I have settled what 
we've had before, as well as this." 

« And why not allow me to settle for this?" asked M'Clutchy. 

"BecaoBO," replied this honest and respectable man, " I could not 
swallow a thimbleful of any thing paid for by your money i what is 
it? If I did I would dream for weeks of all that yon have done, 
or if I didn't dream, the sorrows and wrongs of my near relative. 
Widow CVHagan and h« family, would prevent me from sleeping t 
the Kellys that you've driven to bef^ary — the Gormleys Uiat you 
got pat oat — good GodI and who now hdda their places? yoor own 
relaUons. Ii^s useless however to mention all you've done. Tou, 
Val the Vulture, as the people call yoa, are one of those scourges 
that rise and flourish upon the distresses of the poor, and the inj ustice 
that you yourself bring upon them by your falsehood and calumny ; 
and aU because the proper^ they live on is neglect«d t^ those that 
have a right to look after it. Ay, there is another of your white 
and cowardly laughs. Well you know that there is not a neglected 
estate in the country, but can produce another vulture like yourself, 
playing the same heartless pranks upon die poor people — lying, 
misrepresenting, swaggering over and robbing them, and that, too, in 
the open &C6 of day, merely because they think there is no one to 
bring them to an account. 

"Now go htHBfl," he added, "and when next you want to get a 
wife for your spanking son, tha^s likely to become a squireen upon 
our hands, don't come to Brian M'Longhlin, who knows yon fiwD 
the paring of the nuls to the core of the heart." 

M'ClDtchy looked at him and laughed again ; " before you go^ at 
all eveata," he replied, "I hope you remember the obeervatioB I 
made when I introduced the discourse." 



.V Google 

r^cinzedoy Google 


"I cut say I do," utjd MljODghlint "but I snppoee 70a will 
let me hear it." 

** I wiD," replied Tal, uid hu brow darkened as before ; " It was 
this — foor property and mine lie very snugly together^— otnerroi 
I laid, ' Aafi vhat I beffi» toitk' — didn't I say that ?" 

" Ton did ; md now what else do you say 7" 

" The Teiy same thing ; that your proper^ tmd mine lit tn\tgly 
together i and mark me, Mr. M'Longblin -* 

** I do. Oh, nptm my credit I do. Ha, ha, ha I" 

" Then, thafa vhat I end with." 

"Ah," replied U'Lougblin, indignantly, "you think yon have the 
ball at your own foot, now that old Topertoe is gone, and his wa 
has made yon his under agent. A nice job, indeed, it was, thaf 
transformed old dmnken Tom Topertoe into Lord Cumber, and 
made his son, the present Lord, too proud to live on his own estate. 
Howerer, I'd be glad to see ^e honest man that ever envied the 
aame old Tom hia title, when we all know that fae got it for selling 
Ilia country. As for yon, Vulture, I defy, and despise you. When 
Toj ren^s due, thank God, I am able to pay it ; so you may do your 
worst. While Kr. Hickman's over yon, Uie tenants have some 
protection, in spite of your villany, you unprincipled scoundrel." 

" Oar farms lie snngly together, Mr. M'Lougblin ; and tkad what 
I end vtith." . -:'' 

It was from the town of Castle Cumber, which we hftw^tesoribed 
at the opening of our narrative, that old Tom Topertoe, a squire of, 
the true Irish kidney, took his title. Topertoe, or Lord Castle 
Comber, as we must now. call him, like many others, had the high 
htmour of being a unioa lord — that is to say, his attachment to his 
principles was so steady, that he did not hesitate, to sell his, 
eonntry for a Utle, and, we may add, something besides. It is 
not onr intention, at this distance of time, to discuss the merits, 
of either the Union or its Kepeal ; but in justice to truth and 
honour, or, perhaps, we should rather say, to fraud and profligacy, 
we are constrained to admit, that there is not to be found in the 
annals of all history, any political negociation based upon such rank 
and festering cormption, as was the Legislative Union. Had the 
motives which actuated the English government towards this country 
been pure, and influenced by principles of equality and common 
justice, they would never have had recourse to such unparalleled 
profligacy. This is self-evident ; for those who seek an hononiable 
end, will scorn to obtain it by foul and disbononrable means. The 


conduct of England, therafOTe, in this hue and aTiamdei tnffle, 
is certainly a primd fade evid^ice of her ultimate policy— a poliej 
blacker in the very simplidty of its iniquity, tbftn its wont enemies 
can paint it, and so obvious in its character, that we question whether 
a num could be found, of ordinary information, belonging to ta^ 
party, c^iable, at this moment, of deliberately and conscientioosly 
defending it, so far as pertidns to that transaction. But enongh 
of this. 

Befoie tbe tJnion, old Topertoe was master of three Yotee— t ha t 
Is, he sat himself for the county, and returned members for two 
boroughs. He was known by the soubriquet of Pater ffotter Tom, 
not from any dbposition to deTotion, but becaose, whether in 
parliament on the hustings, or, indeed, a£y where else, he nerer 
made a speech longer than the Lord's Prayer. And yet, short as it 
was, it generally puzzled the shrewdest and most sagacious of his 
audience to understand it. Still, tfaongh not without his faults, 
' 'he was by no means a bad landlord, as landlords went. Tis true he 
was fond of his wine, and of Bomcthing still more profligate ; as a 
proof of which, it was well known that he seldom or ever went 
to bed with less than four or five bottles under his belt ; and, as 
tonching the latter, that he bad generally two agents in pay, 
to cater for bis passions. Id both these propensities be was certainly 
conntenanced by the usages and moral habits of the times ; and the 
truth i^ he grew rather popular than otherwise, precisely on account 
of them. Be was bluff, boisterous, and not ill-natured — one of that 
bygone class wbo would horse-whip a tenant to-dsy, and fight a duel 
for him to-moTTOw. Above all things, he resided on his estate, 
knew all his tenantry by name and person, and contracted, by 
degrees, a kind of anomalous attachment for them, merely because 
they were hie proper^, and voted, and fought for him at elections— 
and often fought vnth him touching their relative positions as 
landlord and tenant. Indeed, we question whether he would not 
enter into a quarrel as readily for a tenant, as he would for s 
favourite dog or horse ; and we are inclined to think, that to do him 
justice, he laid nearly as much valne on the one as on the other — a 
tnrcumstance which, we dare say, several of our modem landlordj^ 
both resident and absentee, will consider as, on our part, a good- 
humoured stretch of fiction. 

His speech at elections absolutely became a proverb in the 
country ; and, indeed, when we remember the good-natured license 
of the times, as many still may, together with the singular blending 


of geaew wi ty ud vitdeoMe, koias-wluppiog and itfottetion, nirtk 
•nd nuaohieC wUcb chantcterised the beuing <£ •odi imb m 
Tt^rtoe, we are fain to think, to vary the {ooverb » little, tkit 
he might have spoken iik»«, and fared worse- 

o Here I am ^ain, je bUggards ; jour own onld Ttfpertot, tliat 
nerer had a day's illnesB, but the gout, bad lock to iL Damn your 
bloods, ye affectionate rascals, sure you love me, and I love yoi^ 
and 'tian't Gully Preston (his opponent) that can cot oar lovea - 
in two. No, boysi he^i not the blade to do that, at any rate I 
Horra, thoDi ye vagabonest Ould Tom Topertoe for ererl B» 
lorea bis buttle and a pretty girl t and will make any rascal quiver 
on a daisy that would dare to say, bow to your blankets. Now, 
Golly Fretton, make a speech — if yoa can I Horra for T<»i 
Topertoe, that never had a day's illness, but the gout — bad luck to 
it I and d<w't listen to Gully Preston, boys, but shout him down! 
Horra 1" 

This speech, from which he never varied, was waited for at 
jlecdona with a vehemenoa of mirth, and a force of populari^, 
which no eloquence bronght against him could withstand. Indeed, 
H was perfectly well known that it alone returned him; for when 
■pon an occasion of considerable doubt and difficnby, tlie two 
parties of the county having been considered as eqoaUj balanced, he 
iras advised by some foolish friend, or enemy in disguise, to address 
liem in a serioos speeds— the consequences were near proving 
Jisastroiu to his interests. When he commenced^-** Gentlemei^— 
i^Mm an occasion of such important difKcultT"— there was for 
abont a quarter of a mintita a dead silenoe — that of astonidnoonb 
TofierCoe^ however, wiio had stn^ Cut, was otdiged to comsiBnoe 
ag»b — " GmHeman—npon »n oocasion of such — ;" but it would 
not do^ The groaning, shontiuf^ booting, and yelling, were deafening 
fiv soaw W'Twitp^ much to the giatiflcation of hia opponent. At 
length iboe was sonetbiiig like a pause, and several voices shooted 
oat, "What the divil do yon mane, TomP" "He's showin' the 
^orrofe Asm* at fesW" shontad aaolher, "dessrtio' his eolonnl" 
* Ohl we^ie gintlsnin now it seems, and not his own Uaggard^ sa 
we used to bfr—^TopHtoefi vagabones that stood by him. Oh, mv 
TOtti to Ul with yen and your ginHwin- Three eheen for GaUy 

Tom HV it wu aoaily orw with him, and 'FrtBUmfa hofaa tan 

WMs hosst s tCTm cJ cewartke ta fadsad. 

..,..,. Google 


hi^ " AJaj, bojB," said the oOter, resuming his old, tnd, indeed, 
Uf lutnnl nuumttr ; " Aisy, je ragRbonea. Topertoe'a onld speech 
for ever I Here I am again, ye blaggarde, that never had a da/s 
iltness bat die gont, bad luck to it I" &c^ &c. This was enough i 
the old feeling of fnn and attachment kindled op ; the mnltitnde 
joined him in hia speech, precisely as a popolar singer is joined 
by the gods of tlie upper gallery in some favourite air ; and no 
sooner was it concluded, than the cheering, throwing up of hats, and 
huEzaing, gave ample proof that he had completely recovered his 
lost ground, and set himself right with the people. 

Such is a brief sketch a( old Topertoe, the first Lord of Castle 
Cumber, who, by the way, did not wear his honours long, the 
gout, to which he was a martyr, having taken him &om under his 
coronet before he had it a year on his brow. He was one of the 
men peculiar to his time^ or, rather, who aided in shaping them ; 
easy, full of Btrong but gross impulses ; quick and outrageous in 
resentmeot, but possessed of lm>ad imconth humour, and a suddea 
oblinon of his pasdon. 'Wlthont leading or education — he was 
coarse, seDsnal, careless, and extraragant^ having no strong or purer 
principle to regulate him than that which originated in his passions 
<a his neoessities. Of shame or moral sanction he knew nothing ; 
. and, consequently, held himself amenable to the world on two points 
only— the laws of duelling and those of gaming. He would take 
an insult from no man, and always paid his gambling debts wi^ 
honour ; bat beyond that, he neither feared nor cared for anything in 
tkit world, and being a member of the Hellflre Club, he did not 
believe in the other. In fact, he was the very man on whose 
peculiar tenq»erament and character, a corrupt and wily politician 
might expect to impress his own principles with success. Topertoe 
was, consequently, not only the veiy man to sell his country, bnt 
to sell it at the highest price, and be afterwards the first to laogb, as 
he did, at his own corruption, and say that " he was devilish |^ad 
be had a country to selL" 

Of hia eldest son, who, of coarse, inoceeded him to his rank and 
property, there is not so much to be said at present^ because he will 
^ipear, to some extend as an actor in oor drama. It is enoi^h then 
to say here^ that he inherited his father's vices, pm^ed <^ their 
vulgarity and grossuess, without a single particle of his tmoertain 
and oapridoas good nature. In his manners he qipeared more the 
gentleman — ^was lively, shallow, and versatile; bnt having beat 
educated at an English school and an £kiglish college, he feUw 


or Bifiected to feel, all the rasliioD&ble prejndioea of the day. and of 
Ilia Rlasa, against hits native country. He was an absentee from both 
pride and ioclination ; and it is not sarprising then, that be knew 
bat little of Ireland, and that' that little ma etrongly to ita 

Another brother there was, wboee unpretending cbaracter reqairea 
little elae than merely that he ahonld be named. The hononrable 
Alexander Topertoe, who was also educated in England, from 
the moment his father stained what he conceived to bo the honour of 
their fiunily, hy reoeiviDg a title and twen^ thonsand ponnds, as 
a bribe for his three votes against a native parliament, hong bis head 
in mortification and shame; and having experienced at all times 
Uttfe else tfaan neglect &om his father and brother, he hurried soon 
afterwards to the continent with a heavy heart and a light purse, 
wbare, for the present, we must leave him. 



Tun:, which posses with a rIow but certain pace, had already crept 
thrice aronnd hia yearly circle since the fair already described in the 
town of Castle Comber. The lapse of three years, however, bad 
made no change whatsoever in the heart or principles of BIr. 
Valentine M'Clutcby, although it had on hia external manner and 
bearing. He now aaaomed mor^ of the gentleman, and endeavoured 
Is impress himself upon those who came in contact with him, aa 
a person of great authori^ and importance. One morning after the 
period just mentioned had elapsed, he and his graceful son, " Mister 
Philj" were sitting in the parlour of Constitution Cottage— for so 
they were pleased to designate a house which bad no pretension 
whatsoerer to that unpretending uppeUation. 

"So, father," said Phil, "you don't fbi^t that such was the 
treatment U'Loughlio gove you?" 

" Why, I remember it, Phil j but you know, Phil, Pm a patient, aod 
afoTgiTing man notwithstanding. Ton know that^ Phil. Ha, ha, ha!* 




" Thut was oertaiuly the worat cose that cum across ua yet," 
replied the son. " None of the rest reatured to go bo far, even wlien 
you hod leB9 power than yon have now," 

" I didn't tell yon aU, Fhit," continued the father, following up the 
eama train of thought. 

"And why not?" said Phil. " Why should yoa «oDoeBl anything 
frwn me?" 

"UeeauBe," replied the other, "I think yon hare heard enough fot 
the pretuiL" 

The fact was, tltat M'CIutchy*B conseiousness of the truth eontained 
in H'liOughlin'B indignant reproaches, was such as prevented him 
from repeating them even to his son ; knowing right well, that had 
ha done so* they could not exootly have looked each other in the fac^ 
withoat sensations regarding their own conduct, which neither of 
tbem wished to avow. There i« a hypocrisy in villainy aometimea so 
deep, that it cannot bear to repeat its own iniquity, even in the 
preMnoe of tfiose who are aware of it; and in this predicamenl 
stood Valentine M'Clatchy. 

"Haybe he faas relented," sidd Phil, "or that he will give me Lis 
I^etty daughter yet ; and yoa know tbe^ have the cash. The linen 
monu&ctory of M'Loughlin and Harman is flourishing." 

" No, no, Phil," replied the father, "you most give her up. That'd 
past 1 but no matter — ^Tll forgive liim." 

Phil looked at him and smiled. " Come, come, father," said he, 
" be original ; that last is a touch of M'Slime — of honest Solomon. 
Keep back the forgiveness yet awhile, maybe they may come round. 
Bega^ and upon my honour and reputation, I shouldn't wish to lose 
tjtte girL No. fiither, don't forgive them yet awhile." 

"Phil, we'll do better for you, boy. Don't be a fool, I sayi 
but have sense. I tdl yoa what, Fhil," continued hb father, and his 
&ae assumed a giiastly, deadly look, at once daik and pdllid— 
"ListMi to me: FU forgive him, Phil, until the nettle, the chickweed, 
Ae bnrdock, the fulsome prvkdgk, the black ftmgns, the slimiest 
weed that grows — ay, till the green mould of ruin itself, grows upon 
tlie spot that is now his hearth — till the winter rain beats into, and 
tlie' winter wind howls over it." 

" No marriage, then," s^ Phil ■ 

"No marriage. Bat what keep3 Darby (VDrive? The raaoal 
should have been here before — . Oh, no," said he, looking at his 
watch, **he has better than half an honr yet." 

" What steps do you intend to take, father ?" 

...... .......Google 

THE inlsn AGENT. 

" Fliil, when rm prepared, you sball know them. In thf n 
lesve me ; I must write to H'Stime^ or send to him. M'SIiOM^a 
naeful at a hint or soggestion ; bnt, with all his wilineas and 
hTpocriay, not capaUe of carrying a difficult matter mcowefully out, 
ho overdoes everything by too mnch caution; and) cooaeqiMntlyi 
gBta faimaelf into ridicnlooB RCrapoB : beaides, I cannot, and will no^ 
{dace foil oonGdeoee in him. He ia too <ttly, and cants too Bwcfa, to 
be trnsted. I think, etill, we may lue bjm, and overreach him into 
the bargun. Are yon going into Castle Cumber P" 

"Wen, drop these couple of lettera in the Foat Office, and 
tell Bankiii he must have th« carta finidied by Uonday next, at 
the farthest, at it will be worse for him. By the way, I have that 
fellow in my eye loo. He had the aasurance to tell me the other 
day, that he could not posaiUy undertake the carts, until be had 
H'Longhlin'B job at Uie mann&elory finished. Off with you now t 
I aee CDrive and Hanlon coining up." 

Graceful Phil, in a few minutes, was mounted in bis usual lofty 
Btate, on " Handsome Harry," and dashed off to Gastlo Cumber. 

It may not be improper hen, before we proceed farther, to ^v« 
the reader some additional knowledge of the paientage and personal 
history of Hr. Takntine MKHutdiy, aa well as s brief Btatorten* 
concerning the Castle Comber property, and the gentleman who acted 
in the capacity of Head Agent. 

The mother, then, of Valentine M'Clutchy, or, as he was mom 
generally called, Val the Valtnre, was daughter to the county gaoler, 
Chrietie Clank by name, who had risen regularly tbiough all Um 
gradations of office, until the power of promotion eould no farther 
go. His daughter, Kate Clonk, was a celebrated beauty, and 
enjoyed a considerable extent of local reputation, independently 
of being a great favourite with the junior portion of the grand jury. 
Among the latter, however, there waa one, a young squire of very 
tibeitioe principles, named Deak&r, whose Buit to the fair Miss Clank 
proved more succeeaful than those of his conpetiton i and tlia 
consequence was, the appearance of young- VaL The readert 
UieiefoTe, already perceivei, that M'CIntchy's real name was Deakerj 
bnt perhaps he is not aware, that, in tbe times of which we write, it 
was nsnal for young unmarried men of weialth, not to anfifer Ih^ 
lUec^timate children to be niuned after them. There weiv, indeed, 
many reasons for this. In the first place, the mere fact of assuming 
tbe true name, was a standing argument of the lather*E pn^igMu'. 

., ........Gtxwlc 


Secondly, tlie morals of the class and the period were so licentious 
that the ligitimate portion of a family did not like to be either ont- 
amnbered or insulted by their namesakes and illegitimate relativefl) 
ilmost at every tnm of the public roads. In the third place, ft 
young man of this description could not, when seeking for a wife, 
feel the slightest inclination to have>a living catalogne of his immor* 
^tiea enumerated to her, under the names of Tom, or Dick, or Tal 
so and so, all his children. This, of coarse, was an inT<dnntarj 
respect paid to modesty, and, perhaps, the strongest alignment for 
aoppressing the true name. The practice, however, was not certunlj 
nniTersal ; bnt in J^tqu^nt iostancee it existed, and Yal the Vulture's 
was one of them. He was named after neither father nor mother, 
but after his grandmother, by the gaoler's side. Deaker would not 
Sttfler his name to be assumed ; and so far as his mother was coo* 
eerned, the general tenor of her life rendered the reminiscence of her 
anything but creditable to her offspring. With respect to his educ^ 
tion, Val's gratitude was principal^ due to his grandfather Clank, 
icho had him well instructed. He, himself from the beginning, was 
shrewd, clever, and intelligent, and possessed (he power, in a singular 
degree, of adapting himself to his society, whenever he felt it bis 
interest to do sa He could, indeed, raise or depress Ida manners in 
a ve^ surprising d^^ee, and with an effort that often occasioned 
astonishment. On the other liand, he was rapacious, unscrupulous, 
cowardly, and so vindictive, that he was never known to forgive an 
injury. These are qualities to which, when you add natarsl adroit- 
ness and talent, you have such a character as has too frequently im- 
pressed itself, with something like the agreeable sensations produced 
by a red hot burning iron, upon the distresses, fears, and necessitiea 
of the Irish oeople. 

M'Clutchy rooe from the humble office of process-server, to that of 
bailiff's follower, bailiff, head-bailiff, barony constable, until, finally, 
ha felt hinuelf a kind of factotum on the Castle Cumber property { 
and in proportion as he rose, so did his manners rise with him. For 
years before hb introduction to our readers, he was the practical 
manager of the estate ; and so judiciously did he regulate his own 
fortunes on it, that without any shameless or illegal breach of hones^, 
he actually contrived to become a wealthy man, and to live in a 
rcijtectable manner. Much, however, will have more, and Tal was 
rapacious. On finding himself comparatively independent, he began 
to take more enlai^ed, but still very cautious measures to secure stnue 
of the good things of the estate to him and his. Thb he was th« 


better enabled to do, ns he had, by the apparent candour of hie man- 
ner, vtHspletely wonned himself into tJie full confidence of the bead 
agent— a gentleman of high honour and integrity, remarkable alike 
f<^ hmnanity Sod benevolence; bnt utterly without anBpidoa. . Two 
or threA fanna, whose leases dropped, he most iniquitously took into 
hie own handa, and so far wheedled the agent, Uiat he induced that 
gentleman to think he was rendering a service to the property by 
doing sa The tenantry now began to murmur — a complaint came 
here, and another there— here was an inetance of private and dis- 
gnised oppression ; and this was followed by a vindictive attempt to 
iojate either the property or character of some one who bad the 
ooorage to tell him what he thonght of his conduct. 

Tal, apiffehending that he might be outborne by too powerfiil a 
miBB of testimony, contrived just then, through his misrepresentations 
to the agent, who still conflded in him, and by the political influence 
of his father, the sqnire, who was the landlord's strongest electioneer- 
ing snppoTter in the coanty, to get himself formally appointed under- 
agent. Feeling now quite confident in his strength, and that his hold 
on the prejudices, and, we may add, the ignorance of the abeenlee 
landlord, was as strong, if not stronger than that of the agent himself, 
he b^an to give a greater and less guarded scope to bis natural 
principles. Mr. Hit^man, the agent, hod been strongly disgusted by 
tbe political profligncy with which the union hod bees carried ; and 
bad, on more than one occasion, intimated a doubt whether, as an 
honest man, he could render political support to any one who bad 
participated in its corrnption, or rect^oised the justice of those prin- 
ciples on which it bad been accomplished. All this gave M'ClutcUy 
that imperturbable insolence which is inseparable from petty tyramiy 
and licensed extortion. Day oAer day did his character come out in 
an its natnral deformity. The outciy agunet him was not now con- 
fined to this portion of tbe property, or that — it became pretty general ; 
and, perhaps, at the time we have brought him on the stage, 
diere was not a man in Ireland holding the situation he hdd, who 
was more feared and more detested. 

Some time previous to this, however, Hickman's eyes were opened 
to his nndisguised character, and what he could do he did. On finding 
that the Vnlture was reviving all the oppressive usages with which 
property in Ireland is so penally taxed, he immediately gave orders 
that such exactions should be discontinued by M'CIutchy, and resisted 
by the tenants. In spite of all this, however, there were upon the 
property many timid persons, who, dreading his malignity of purpose^ 



Btill continued to yield to liia avariae and nfodtj tbAt whicii iraUui.^ 
else bat a dread of liu veiigesiiee could extort from tbeat- Thus did 
he fearer his nest at the expenm ol their tenors. 

Hickmui, who had also haea agent to old Tq>srtoe, fUt a kind of 
personal attachment to that good-hnmoored reptobftte, so long as ho 
believed him to bo honest. Old T<Mn's Tsoality, hoverw, iX iba 
Union, made bint rather dck of the connecUoD, and the ocmdiio^ 
or rather the mwc expensiTe profligacy of tlie foung absentee Iwd, 
rendered his aituatioii, as an honest, and humane agent, one <£ great 
pain to himself, considering his pomtion between landlord and tenonb 

He knew, besides, that many men of his class had taken miMt 
scandalous advantages of the embarrassments which their hon^ty had 
occasioned in t!te afiiiirs of their employers, and lent them their own 
rents in the moments of distress, in order to get a lien on their pm* 
perty. For this reason, and out of a feeling of honour and self- 
respect, Mr. Hickman had made it a point of principle to lend the 
yoong lord no money, under any circumstances. As far as he cotiH 
legitimately, and within the ordinary calculatdons of humanity, feed 
Lord Cumber's prodigality o£ expenditure he did it. This, however, 
was not exactly the kind <^ agent which his lordship wanted, and 
however highly ho respected and honoured him, still that direful w<»d 
necessity, goaded Iiim into a forgetfulness of his own real interests 
and of what was due to Hickman. He wanted an agent with loss 
feeling less scruple, less independence, and more of tint accom- 
modating principle wliich would yield itself to, and go down with 
the impetuous current of his <^enmre vices, and satisfy dieir cravings 
even at hia own ruin. Such, then, was M'Clntchy— snoh the position 
of Mr. Hickman, the agent — and such the general state of the Castle 
Cumber property. As to the principles and necessities <d its pro- 
prietor, if they are not already knowD, we may assure our readers 
that tiicy soon will be. 

ConsUtution Cottage, M'Cliitchy'B residence^ was, in fact, do cot- 
tage at all, as we have said, but a very respectable house, and of con- 
siderable size. Attached to it was an extensive yiu^ and (^oe< 
houses, ao excellent garden, cwchard, pigeon^house, and evciytlinig, 
in fact, that could constitute aafaetaatiol comfcHt and convenience. It 
was situated beside a small clump of old beeches, that sheltered it 
from the north — to the front lay, at a few miles ilistouoo, a rai^ of 
fine mountains — and between them stretohed as rich a valley, both iu 
fertility and beaaty, as the eye of man could rest upon. The ground 
before the door fell by au co^y ouil gradual descent, uutil a little 


farther down it reached a green expanae of level meadow, through 
wUdt k dear rirer wound ha lingering couree, as if loth to pass awa/ 
bom the rich and grauj bankB that endoaed iL It was, in fact, i 
■pot of that calm and porfectl;^ nmd character which draws tha heart 
noooacioaelj to the secret charm that rests upon it, and which, even 
tbs caaual traveller leares behind him with regret Some improve- 
oteota were at the present time in an incipient state — such as planta- 
tioofl, garden wallsi and what seemed the lines <rf an BTenne, or 
approach to the house, whidv by the WKf, stood in the centre of a 
(urn that consisted of abont eighty Irish acres. 

At length a single knock came, which was gives by (yOrive, for 
Hanloo, who was his assistant, dnrst not attempt such a thing in his 
presence i and if ever a knock conveyed the diiplici^ of the man 
who gave it that did. Though, as we said, but a single one, yet there 
was DO minta k ing its double meanin g . It wae at once impudent and 
servile ; it was impudent, as much as to ssy to the servants, " why 
don't yon open the door quickly for a man who is so deep in your 
Btaster'B confidence as I am ?" while to that master himself, it eait^ 
(V seemed to say, " I am your creature, your instrument, your slave v 
ready to execute any oppression, any hardship, or villany, on which 
yoa can employ me." 

It ia said, and we believe with truth, that in military life no officer 
is so serere and <q)pre88ive as he who has risen from the ranka, and 
been moat obaeqnions there. We do not doubt it, for the principle is 
a strong one in human nature, and is by no means confined to either 
the army or navy. At all events, eh nffling, and cringing, andslinking 
Darby (yDrive presented Mmeelf to Yal the Vulture. There was a 
downcast, comrdfy, ahy, noeasy, expreasion in his blank, straggling 
faatiiree, that aeemed to aaj, " for God'a aoke spare my rery lifi^— 
don't oaaihilate me — here I am — ^you see through me — heart, spirit, 
and soul — body, longs, and lights — could I toll you a lie? No- 
Could I deodve ymi — such a man as you, that can look through mc 
as if I was a lanthorn, or a pane of glass without a bull's eye in it. 
No I only let me live and I'll do your bidding." 

« Weli," Mrid Val, in a sharp, impuioiis tone, " you're punctual for 

« Ood be praised for that," replied Darby, wiping the top of his 
nose with the finger and thumb of an old mitten ; " heaven be praised 
that Fm not late." 

' "Hold your damned canting tongue, you knave, what place is thk 
for HP 

Dcinzedoy Google 


"KJuve I well I am then." 

" Tes, you know you are — ^yoa are all knavea — every baiUfF Is a 
Knave — ahem — uolesB, indeed, ona in a thouaand.' 

" It's truth, indeed, plaiae your honour." 

" Not bnt tbere'e worse than yon, a&ex all, and be damned to yon." 

" An' betther, sir, loo, i* yon plaiae i for sure, Grod help me, Fm 
not what I ought to be." 

" Well, mend then, why dont you ? for yon want it. Come now, 
no jaw, I tell you, but answer me what I am about to aak yoa; not 
a word now." 

" Well, nO] then, plaise your honour, I won't in tbroth." 

"Did yon warn the townland of Ballymackscad ? 

" Tifl, plaise your honour." 

" Are they ready — have they tiie rent 7" 

" Ooly some o' them, sir — an other some is axin' for time, the thievea." 

" Who are asking for time ?" 

"Why the CShaughruu^ sir — bopin', indeed, that your honour 
will let them wut till the maikets liaea, an' not be Curbed to sell tha 
grain whin the prices ia bo low now that it would ruin them — ^bat if a 
wondherf ul the onrusonableneas of some people. Says I, ' his honour, 
Mr. M'CIutchy, b only doin' his duty ; but a betther hearted or a 
kinder man never bmk the world's broad than he ia b) them that 
desarves at his hands i' eoj sir, they be^ian to— bat— well, well, its no 
matter— I tonld them they were wrong — made it plun to them — bat 
they wouldn't be convinced, say what I might." 

" Why, what did they say, were they abasing me P — I suppose soo* 

" Och I the poor eowls, sure it was only ignorance and fooUshneaa 
on their part — onraisonable cratores all, or moat o' them, is," 

" Let me know at once what they said, you knave, or upon mj 
honour and soal ni turn yoa out (^ the room and bring in Hnnloo." 

" Plmse your honour, be wasn't present — I left him outside, in re> 
gard that I didn't think be waa fit to b; trusts— • sale witn — no 
mattber, 'twas for a raJson I had." He gave a look at M'CIutchy as 
he spok^ compounded of anch far and distant cunning^ scarcely per- 
ceptible— and such obvious, yet retreating cowardice, scarcely per- 
ceptible alao— 4hat no language could convey any notion of it. 

"Ahl" siud YaJ, "you are a neat lad — but go on — ^wbat did they 
eay, for I must have it out of you." 

" That I may die in happiness, your honour, but I'm afeard lo tell 
you— but, sure, if you'd give your promise, sir, your bright word trf 
honour, that 3'ou'd not pay me off for it. Til toll you." i 



"Ah! yon d d crawling reptile, out with it) I won't pay yon 


** Wen, then, here it la — c^ 1 the euise o'Cromwel an them this daj, 
for an lugrateful pock ! thej sud, jour honour, that — bad lack to 
them I pray — that there wasat bo black hearted a scoundrel on th« 
face of the airth as yonr four qnarthers ; that the g^lows is gapio' 
fcv yoa ; and that there's as many cursea before yon in hell as 'ud 
blisther a griddle." 

M'Clutchy's face asaumed its usual ezpreseion of diabolical malig- 
nity, whilst, at the same time, he gave a look bo piercing at Darby, 
as if suspecting that the curse, from its peculiar character, was at 
leas^ pardally his own invention, — that the latter, who stood like A 
criminal, looldng towards the floor, felt precisely what was going 
forward in the other's mind, and knew that lie hod nothing elae fbr 
it but to look him steadily in the face, as a mark of his perfect iniMH 
cence. Gradoaliy, therefore, and slowly, he raised his email grejr 
eyes until they met those of H'Glutchy, and thus the gaze coDtiniwd 
for nearly a minute between tbem, and that with such Bteadiuess on 
both sides, that they resembled a mesmeric doctor and his patient^ 
rather than anything else to which we would compare them. On 
ibe part of M'Clutchy the gaze was that of an inquisitor looking into 
Ihe heart of him whom he suspected ; on that of Darby, the eye, nn> 
i of erit, betrayed nothing but the purest sioplicity and 

And yet, when we consider that Darby moat unquestionably did 
not only ornament, but give peculiar point to the opinions expressed 
t^ the tenantry against the Vulture, perhaps we ought to acknow- 
ledge that of the two he possessed a larger share of histrionlo 

At length Bl'CIulchy, whose eye, for reasons with which tiie 
reader is already acquainted, was never either a firm or a steady 
one, remoTod it from Darby, who, nevertheless, followed it with a 
nmple bat pertiuacions . look, as much as to say, I have tdid yon 
tm^ and am now waiting your leisure to proceed. 

"What do yon stare at?" said M'Clutchy, strongly disposed to 
▼mt his malignity on the next object to him ; "and, you beggarly 
scoundrel, what did yon say to that P Tell me, or TU heave you^ 
head foremost, Uirough the window ?'' 

"Why," replied Darby, in a quiet, confident, and insinuating tone* 
*I rusoned wid them — raisoned wid them like a Christian. ' Now, 
Sheemua CShanghran,' says I, 'you're wid what I know to be a lio. 

r^cinzedoy Google 


Fm not the mui to put 111 between you nnd bis honour, Mr. 
M'Clatchj } bat at the auue time,' says I, ' Tm hia aarrint, and aa 
an honert nun, I most do jnj duly. I don't intend to mintion a 
sf Uablo of what yon wud this day ; but as his sanint, and gettin' 
bread through him, and under him, I can't, nor I wont satfer hia 
honour to be backbitten before his own face — for i^s next to that. 
Now,' Mjt I, <be gnlded by me, and all will be right. In the fint 
place, you know, he's entitled to dtUff-fouil ;* in the next place, he's 
entitled to dvty-mork. ' Ay, the landlord, is,* said they, ' but not the 

Vnl ■' ' Whiaht,' says I, in a friendly whisper, puttin' my hand 

toroea Dai^s month, and winkin' both my eyes at himt 'send his 
honour down s ptur of them fine fat turkeys — I know his honour's 
fond o' them ; but that^s not all,* says I — ' do you wish to have a 
fiiend in coortP I know yon do. Well and good~^e's drawing gravel 
to make a new avenue early next week, so Sheemus (yShaughran, if 
yon wish to have two friends in coort — a great one and a little one" — 
nanin' mjBelf, God pardon me, for the little one, your honour — 'you 
will,' Bays I, 'earij on next Monday momin', send down a pair of 
horaes and carts, and give him a week^s duty-work. Then,' says I, 
'lave the rest to tomebody, for I won't name names.' — No, your 
honour, I didn't bring Hanlon in. — By the same token, as a proof 'of 
it, tiiere's young Bandy Shangbran, the son, wid a turkey under aich 
arm, oomin' op to the faall door." 

" WeU," proceeded M'Clntchy, without a single obeervation, '■ did 
you call on the Slevins ?" 

" Tes, sir ; they're ready.' 


"Not ready, sir; but a pair of geese, and two men on next 
Thursday and Saturday. On Friday they must go to market to bny 
two <^."t 

"Widow Gaffijcyi" 

"Not ready, sir ; but that I may never die in sin, a 'cute shaver." 

** Why so ; what did she say P" 

"Ob, Mr. Hickman, sir, the head agent, your honour; that's the 
gn. Throth, the same Mr. Hickman is — but, God forbid, sir, Td 
spoke a word against the absent ; bnt any way, he's a good round 
thrifle, one way or the other, out of your pocket, from Jinnywany 
to December." 

* Then were iniquitoiu exactiont, racked from the poor tcmuiUT bj the oli 
hndlordi or their agcnta. 
t Toungpigi' 

r^cinzedoy Google 



" Darby, my good man, and most impertinent soonndrel, if yoa 
wish to reUin tout present mtoatios, neTer open yvQ' lip* against 
that excellent gentleman, Hr. Hickman, Uark my words ; oat yom 
go, if I ever diacorer that yon mentiim him with diereapeoL" 

*< Well, I wonf t then ; and Otoi foi^re me for apakin' the trath— 
when if I not right." 

« IMd jou Bee the liuIholUndt P" 

*■ Ur. Hickman Again, ritt an' bad luck U> Beg paidout sir, I 

forgot. Throth, ur, when I mentioned the duty work an' tlie new 
Avenj, th^ f whistled at yon." 

« WbisUed at me t" 

" Yes mx , «n' said that Ur. Hiokman tould them to girt 
yoa ntnther doty-fowl nor daty-wwk, but to do tlieir own bnsi- 
nesB, and let foa do yoors. Ay, and 'twas the same from all th« 

" Wetl," said Val, going to the window and looking abroad for a 
minate or two; "well— so much for Ballymackscud ; now for its 
next neighbour, Ballymackfud." 

** Ur. Hickman again, sir. The devil sweep the same Hickman, 
any way," said Darby, in an aside, which he knew the other conld 
easily hear. " Out of the whole townland, sir, all I got was two meD 
for the Aveny— a goose from Barney Scadden ; and her last ben, 
along wid half-a-dozen eggs, from that dacent creature, Widow 
U'UurL Throth four fine little childre she has, if they had anything 
on tJiem, or anything to keep body and sowl together." 

" Yon warned them all, of course ?" 

"Krerysowl in the townland of Ballymackfud ; and therms the 
upshot. But it's all Ur. Hickman, sir j for he toold them—' I will 
haTe none of this work,' says he; <the tenants mustn't be hanisked 
and fleeabed in this manner,' saya he. Yes, your honour, that's tbs 
npsbot from Ballymackfud — two days' work—a sick goose (for I 
disremembered to mention that Barney said, wid a wink, that she'd 
reqnire great attintion, as she was in a delicate state of health)— 
one ould hen, and half-a<doxen e^^ ; which wouldn't be the case, 
only for Hiekman— not but he's a very respectable gentleman— by 
all accounts." 

" I told yoB before, urra, that I will have nothing ofiensive to Um 
mentioned in my presence. Give this letter to Mr. M'Stime, and bring 
me en answer as soon as you can. Will yon have « glass of spirits?" 

" Would it be inlherfaii'in' wid my duty, sir?" 

" If you think so, dont't take it ; you ouKht to know best." 



"Well, tlien, for this one time, in r^aid of a Ihin-roe* or the red 
wathtir in ay stomach, Til tiy ik I drank bog-bine last night goin* 
to bed, but dlril a morad <f good it did me." 

M'CIatchy handed him s full glass, which he held steadily before 
bis eye, till the other put up the decanter. 

"Your honour'a health, air," aaid he, "and fireside; and if you 
war to throw me out o' fifty windiea, FU add to tbiO— here's wishin* 
that the devil had hit own, and I know where jfou'd soon be." 

" How, yon villanons scoundrel," stud Val, etarting with rising 
wrath, " what do you mean "by that J" 

Darl^ made no reply, but hastily tossing off the glass, he seized 
his hat, bolted outside the door, and puttiug in his head, said in a 
kind of loud but confidential whisper— 

" Is Hicxhar's place, your honour !" 





Pass we now to another worthy character, who bad locality upon 
the aforesaid property of Castle Cumber. Solomon M'SIime, the 
law agent, was a satisfactory proof of the ease with which religion 
and law may meet and aid each other in the heart and spirit of the 
same person. An attorney, no doubt, ia at all times an amiably 
honesty and feeling individual, simply upon professional principles ) 
but when to all this is added the benignant infioence of serions and 
decided piety, it would not be an easy task to find, among the several 
Masses which compose society in general, anything so truly engaging, 
so morally buntless, so sweetly sanctimonious, so seductively comdy, 
aa is that pnre and evangelical exhibition of human character, that 
is found to be developed in a religious attorney. 

Solomon M'SIime was a man in whoso heart the two principles 
k^t their constant residence ; indeed so beautifully were they 
blended, that his law might frequently be mistaken for religion, just 

* Lhi»-ree, oi red water— the Ihsli name for heart baia. 



te his religion, on the other hand, was often known to smack strongly 
of law. In this excellent man, these principles accoromodated each 
other with a benignant indulgence that manifested the beaaty of 
holiness in ^ high d^ree. If, for instance, law in its prognes 
presented to him anj obstacle of doubtful moialitjr, religion came 
forward with a sweet but serions smile, and said to her companion, 
" Uf dear friend, or sister, in this case / permit 700." And on the 
rontrarj, if rdigioi) at any time felt over sensitiTe or acmp'nloQS, 
law had fiflj aignments of eafet;^, and precedent, and high anthori^ 
to justify ber. But, indeed, we may observe that in a religions 
attmiey, these illiberal scraples do not oftea occur. Mr. M'Slinte 
knew the advantages of religion too well, to feet that contraction of 
the mind and principles, whicli in so many ordinary cases occauons 
religion and common morality to become almost identicaL Beligion 
to him was a friend — a patroness in whose graces he stood so high, 
that she permitted him to do many things which those who were 
mon estranged from her dnrst not attempt. He enjoyed that state of 
bJeaaed freedom which is accorded to bo few, and, consequently, had 
his " permiBsions" and bis " privileges" to go in the wicked warfares 
of this trying world much greater lengths than those who were less 
gifted and favoured by the sweet and consoling principle which 
regulated snd beautifled Am life. 

Solosnon wai a small man, tbio, sharp-featured, and solemn. He 
was deliberate in his manner and movements, and studionsly correct 
in tpeech. Though solemn, however, he was not at all so severe or 
qnemloust as is too frequently the case with those who afiect to be 
nligions. Far from it On the contrary, in him the gospel gifts 
appeared in a cheerful gravity of diHpoaiti<»i, and a good-humoured 
inbricity of temper, that could turn with equal £ezibility and suavity 
to every incident of life, no matter how trying to the erring heart 
All the hinges of his spirit seemed to have been graciously and 
sbnndantly oiled, and such was his serenity, that it was qtiite evident 
he had a light within himself. It was truly a pleasure to speak to^ 
or trsDsaut business with such a man, he seemed always so full of 
inward peace, and comfort, and happiness. Nay, upon some occasions, 
be could rise to a kind of sanctified facetiousDCSS that was perfectly 
delightful, and in the very singleness of his heart, woold, of ao odd 
time, let out, easily and gently it is true, a small joke^ that savoured 
a good deal of secular humour. 

Then he was so full of charity and afiection for all that were frail 
■ad eixing among our kind, that he never, or seldom, breathed ft 



hush word against the offender. Or if) in the fulnesg of hit 
beaeroleiKe, he found it necesaaiy to enomertta their fauUs, nntl 
I^ace them, as it were) in a cataltq^ue, it woa done in a spirit of 
such loTBt mingled with sorrow, that thoM to whom ho oddresaett 
himself oflen thought it a pity that he himself did not honour 
rdi^Mit by becoming the offender, simply {<a the sake of aSlennx^ 
becoming the penitent. 

In the religioua world he waa a very active and prominent mon^ 
poBctnal in his devotional exercises, and always on the look ont for 
some of those anfortnnat« brands with which society abound^ thmt 
he might, aa he termed it^ have the pleasure of pinching them oat at 
the burning. He never went without a bible and a vai^ety at txacta 
in his pocket, and seldom waa missed from the platform of a rel^ooa 
meeting. He received subscriptions for all public and private charities 
and has repeatedly been known to offer and afibrd cODSolation to the 
widow and orphan, at a time when the pressure of business rendered 
the act truly one of christian interest and affection. 

The hour was not more than ten o'clock a.k. when Darby efttered 
his ofBoe, in which, by the way, lay three or four bibles, in difierent 
places. In a recess on one side of the cfainuMy-piece, stood a glass- 
covered book-cose, filled with the osnal worics oa his jK^eaOaat 
whilst himg upon the walls, and consequently nearer obserratioii, 
were two or three pensile shelves, on whieh were to be found a small 
collection of religious volumes, tracts, and other productions, all 
bearing on the same subject. On the desk was a well-thumbed 
bible to the right, which was that used at family prayer; and on 
the oj^M>Bit« side, a religions almanack, and a copy of congregati<m 

Daiby on reaching the hall-d(x>r knocked with considerably mwe 
deoiaion than be had done at M'Clutchy's, but without appearing to 
have made himself heard; after waiting patiently for some time, 
however, he knocked again, and at length the door was opened by a 
very pretty servant girl, about seventeen, who, npon his inquiring if 
her master was at home, replied in a sighing voice, and with a 
demore face. " oh, yes — at family prayer." 

"■When he's done," said Darby, "maybe yorfd be kind enough ta 
say that Darby (yDrive has a message for him." 

Tba pretty servant did not sod — an act which she considered m . 
too flippant for tho solemnity of devotion— but she gently bowed 
ber head, and closed her eyes in asaent— upon whieh was beard a 
■omewhat cheerful gioaa, lepleta with tme nnction, ioude Aa 


THE mtaa agent, h 

ptrlour, f4^wed by & Toic« that said, "ah I Susannal" pronoonesA 
in B tone of grave bat placid remoiietraDce ; Sosaona immediate^ 
entered, and tiie voiee, which was that of our attorney, proceedetU- 
"Soaanna, take your place— long measure, eight lines, four eights^ 
ud two nxea." The psalm vas then ntiaed or pitched by Solomon 
himself, who was followed by six or eight others, each in a difibrent 
key, hut all with such reluctance to approach their leader, that from a 
principle of nuworthioeBs, they allowed him, sa the more piona, to 
get far in advance of them. In this manner they sang two verses, 
and it was remarkable. Hat i^though on coming to the oonclouon, 
Solomon was far ahead, and the rest nowhere, yet, from the same 
principle of unworthiness, they left the finish, as they did the start, 
sHogether to himself. The poslm was accordingly wound up by a 
kind of understanding or accompaniment between his month and 
nose, whi<^ seemed each moved by a lealous bat godly struggle to 
excel the other, if not in melody at least in loudness. They then all 
knelt down, and Scdomon launched, with a sonorous voice, into an 
extempore prayer, which was accompanied by a solemn commentaiy 
of groanings, sighings, moanonga, and muffled peculations, that 
cannot otherwise be described, except t^ saying, that they resembled 
something between a screech and a scream. 

Their devotions being over. Darby, having delivered M'CIutchy'a 
letter, was desired to take a seat in the office, until Ur. M'SUme 
-should be at leisure to send a r^y. 

" Sit down, mj good friend, Darby, sit down, and be at ease, at 
least in your body ; I do not suffer any one who has an immortal 
soul to be saved to stand in my ofiGce-^^md as yoa have one to be 
saved. Darby, you must sit. The pride of this vain life is our 
besetting sin, and lu^py are they who are enabled to overctmie it — 
may He be praised I — sit down." 

" Tm thankful to you, sir," said Darby ; " oh, thin, VLc, 
M'Slime, it would be well for the world if every attorney in 
it was like you, sir — there would be little honesty goin' osthray, 
sir, if thew was." 

" Sam Shorpe, my dear boy, if you have not that bill of costs 

"No sir." 

" A good b<^, Sam — well, do net omit thirteen and four pence, 
for two letters, which I ought to have aestt — as a part of my moral, 
independently of my professional duty — to widow Lenehan, having 
explained to her, hj word of mouth, that which I ought in conscieocet 



to have written — but indeed my conscience, often leads me to tlie— 
what should I say P — the merciful aide in these mattera. No, Darby, 
my friend, yon cannot see into my hearty or yon would not say sc^— 
[ am frail. Darby, and sinful— I am not up to the standard, my 
fnend, neither hare I acted up to my privileges — the froedom of 
the gospel ia a bleaeed thing, provided we abuse it not— well, Sam, 
my good young friend — " 

" That was entered before, sir, under the head of instrucUons." 

" Very right — apparently very right, Sam, and reasonable for yoa 
to think so — but this was on a different occasion, although the same 

"Oh, I beg pardon, sir, I did not know that," 

* Sam, do not beg pardon — not of me — nor of any bnt One— go 
there, Sam, yon require it; we all require it, at least I do abundantly- 
Darby, my friend, it b a principle with me never to lose on oppoita- 
nity of throwing in a word in season — but as theafl^rs of this life 
must be attended to-^nly in a secondary degree, I admit — ^I wiU^ 
tlierefore, place you at the only true fountain where yon can be 
properly refreshed. Take this bible, Darl^, and it matters not 
where yon open it, read and be filled." 

Now, as Darby, in consequence of his early attendance nptm 
H'Clntchy, bad been obliged to leave home that morning without 
his breakfast it must be admitted that be was not jost tben in tbe 
best possible disposition to draw much edification from it. After 
poring over it with a very sombre face for some time, he at length 
looked shrewdly at M<Slime, closing one eye a little, as was his 
custom ; " I beg pardon, sir," s^d be, " but if Tm not mistaken this 
book I believe is intended more for the sowl than the body." 

"For the body 1 truly. Darby, that last is a carnal thought, and I 
am sorry to hear it from yonr lips : — the bible ia a spiritual book, my 
friend, and spiritually must it be received." 

" But, to a man like me, who hasn't had his breakfast to-day yet, 
how will it be sarviceable ? will reading it keep aS hunger or fill my 
stomach ?" 

" Ah ! Darby, my friend, that is gross talk— «ncb views of divine 
truth ore really a perversion of the gifts of heaven. That book 
although it will not fill your stomach, as yon grossly call it, actually 
will do it figuratively, which in point of fact ia the same thin^ 
or a greater^it will enable you to bear hunger as a disponsadon. 
Darby, to which it is your duty as a Christian, to submit. Nay, 
it will do more, my friend ; it will exalt your faith to such a divine 


pitcU timt If ]ron rend it with tlie Tproper epirit, yoti will pray that 
tbe dispensation thus laid on yon may continn^ in order that the 
inner nun may be purged." 

"PMth, and Mr. M'Slime, with great respect, if that is yout 
doctrine it isn't yonr practice. Tbe sorra word of prayet^— God bleM 
the prayers ! — came ont o' your lips to-day, antil yoa laid in a good 
warm breakfast, and aflher that, for fraid of disappointments) the 
very first thing yoa prayed for was your daily bread— didn't I 
bear you? Bnt 111 tell yon what, sir, ordber me my breakfast, 
and then Fll be epakin' to yon. A hungry nun, or a hungry woman* 
or her hnngry childre, can't eat bibles ; although it is well known, 
God knows, that when hunger, and famine, and atarration are widin 
them and upon them, the same Uble, bat nothing else, is handed to 
tbcm by pions people in the shape of consolation and r^eC Ifow, 
Tm Ihinkin', Mr. U< Slime, that that ia not the best way to make the 
table respected. Are yon goin' to give me my breakfast, sir P upon 
my Bowl, beggin* yonr pardon, if you do. Til bring the bible home 
wid me, if that will satisfy yon; for we haTen't got e'er a one in ouT 
own little cabin." 

" Sharpe, my good boy, I'll tronble yon to take that bible out of his 
hands. I am not in the slightest degree oStoded, Darby— yon will 
yet, I trust, live to know better ; may He grant it I I overlook the 
misprision of blasphemy on your part, for you didn't know what yon 
Rud ; bnt yon will, yon wilL" 

" This is a short r^y to Mr. M'CIatchy'a note. I shall see 
him oa my way to the Sessions to-morrow, but I have told him 
M in it. And now, my friend, be assnred I overlook the nngodly and 
carnal tenour of yonr conversation— we ai« all frail and prone to 
error ; I, at least, am so — still we most part as Chriatians ongb^ 
I^by. Toa have asked me for a breakiast^ but I overlook that also 
—I ought to overlook it as a Christian ; for is not your immortal 
tool of infinitely greater value than your perishable body P Un- 
doobtedly— and as a proof that I value it more, receive this — this, my 
brother sinner— oh 1 that I could say 'my brother Christian also I— 
reotive it, Darby, and in the proper spirit too [ it is a tract written 
by the Bev. Vesuvius M'Slng, entitled 'Precious Puddings for Saintly 
Stcnnacbs i I have myself found it graciously consolatory and re- 
liesfaing, and I hope that you also may, my friend." 

"Bfgad, sir," said Darby, "it may be very good in its way, and 
IVe no doubt bnt it's a very generous and Chris^aa act in you to 
give it — espeshilly since it cost yon Dotlung~-but for all that, npoB 



mj aowl, Pm strongly of opinion that to a bangrf nun ifs a bad 
tabstitnte for a Ijreofc&st*" 

" Ah I hy tbe way, Darby," lending a deaf car to this oboOTration, 
"fanTs yon beard, wilbin the last day or two, anything of Mr. 
M<CIutohy-s fadter, Mr. Deaker— how he is 7» 

"Why, nr," replied Darby, Tm tould he's breaking down fastt 
but the diril a one of him viU give up the lady. Faraona, and 
ininiflten, find even prieeti^ have all been at him ; bat it'a uedess ; 
he coma and damna them right and left, and noi^t be attended by 
aay one bat her—Jiadn't ytm betther tiy bim, Ur. M'SUme P Haybe 
yon might anooeed. Who knows bnt a little of the ' Predona Podding' 
migfat aarre him aa well as others. There's a case for yoo. Sore he 
acknowledges himself a member of the Hell-fire club 1" 

"Ee'a a reprobate, my fiiend-^impenitent, hopalesa. I have 
myself tried him, spoken with him, reasoned with him, bnt never 
were my bmnility and my patience so strong^ tiied. His language 
I will not repeat — bnt canting knave, hypocrite, rascal attor — no, it 
Is oselesa and nnedifyifig to repeat it. Now go, my friend, and do 
not fbi^et that preciona tract which yon have thmst so disrespectinUy 
into your pockflt" 

Darby, after a shrewd wink at one of the ^prenlicea, which waa 
Tetnmed, passed qnt, and 1^ Mr. M'Slime to the pursuit of his—. 

In the meantime, as we authors have peculiar "privileges," as Mr. 
M*9ime would say, we think it only due to atir readers to let them 
have a peep at M'SIime^e note to our friend Valentine M'Clutehy. 

" My dear fnsnd — I felt as deep an interest in the pnrpuii of 
yotnr note as yon yourself poosiUy oould. The pardes alluded to 
I appredate precisely aa yon do — ^MlxiiigUin has in the most 
tmcbristian manner assailed my character as well as yoore. So 
has his partner in tbe concern — I mean Harman. Bnt then, my 
fitoid, are we not Christians, and aball we not return good for evil 9 
Shati m not forgive than f Some whispers, hints, very gentle and 
delicate, have reached my ears, which. I do not wish to commit to 
papery— bnt this I may say, untfl I aee yon to-morrow, that I 
think yonr intentions with respect to Mlxraghlin and Harman aie 
prematnre. There ia a screw loose somewhere, so to qieak, that 
is all — but I believe, I can aay, that if your father, Deaker, will act 
to our pnrposes, all wOl be aa we could wish. This is a delicate 
anlject, my dear friend, bnt still, I am of opinion, that if yon could 
hg any practicaUe meaOB soften the unfortunate female who p 


■neh ID asoeiidailey over faim, all nil be n^it I wooU, ajBelf 
nndartake the penlons task for joor n]io~«od periloaa to ordinaiy 
men I admit it would be, for she is barmd qontioD ozeeeding^ 
oomelr. In me this would ^>pear diidntenstod, wbilrt in 7011, 
wnaiicion woold beooow strong Caih is wanted ia the qoarter ym 
know, and cash has been refined in another quarter, tmt when we 
meet I shall tell 70a more aboot this matter. In the me^ tine it it 
weU Aat there is no legitimate iaeofr—bitt dioald he will hia 
property to this Dalilah— or coald she be remored? — I awan to % 
local iliatyjHw- But I ihaQ see jou to-moirow (d.t.), when we eaa 
hnve &eer convenatim i^on what la^ be done. With htunbla bat 
•ojaeao pr ayer a for yoor liest wishes and wBlfanv 
**I sm, my dear friend, 

« Thine in the bonds of Chnstian love, 

"SoLtwoii H'SLDta. 

**?.& Asit isapiineipleof nune tonegloot nojnstopportnni^of 
in^mning my deceitfol hesrt, I bought from n trsvelling pedlar tMa 
Dumiing a book with the remai^bte title of <Tbe Spiritual Attorney 1 
or A Sare Guide to the Other World.' I have not yet had time to 
JmA nt any tbiog but the title page, and consequently an not able 
to inform ym MUcft <^ the worlds it dodes to^ hat hal Yon see, 
my friend, I do not think there is evil in a joke that is hannlees, or 
has a moral end in view, as every joke ought to have. 
" Thine as before 

"Sol. M'Suhb." 



DiAiioam oil THi TIMES— mix's ontaon on thi caiiszs or 


Thx next momiug was that on which the Quarter Seasieiis of Castle 
Cumber mmmencedi and of oonrse it was necessary for Darby 
(yDriTC^ wbo was always full of business on rack occasions, to see 
JfCIutdiy, in order to receive instructiona touching his iOtiea, on 



Tarioiu prooeediags connected with the estate. He liad readhed llis 
croes-roftds that ran about half-wsy between ConstitiitJon CotUge 
-and Castle Cumber, when he met, joat where the road tonied to 
M'Clatch/s, a woman named Poll Doolin, acCoMpaoied, u she 
mostly was, by bBr son — a poor, harmlees idiot, named Baymond ; 
'hotii of whcm were well known tbrongfaont the whole parish. Poll 
was a thin, sallow woman, with piercing dark eyes, and a veiy 
gipsy-like countenance. Her dress was always black, and very 
much worn ; in fact* every., thing abont her was black— .felftck 
Stockings, black bonnet, black liair, and black kerchief. Poll's 
oecnpatiott was indeed a ^golar one, and not very creditable to 
the morals of the day. Her means of living were derived from Uie 
employment of child-cadger to the Fonndling Hospital of Dublin. 
lu other words, she lived by conveying tSegitimate chOdren from 
the places of their birth to the establishmeot jost mentioaed, which 
has been veiy properly t«nned a bonnty for nationsl immorality. 
Whenevw a birth of this kind occurred, Poll was immediately sent 
for— reCbived her little charge with a name— whether true or false 
mattOTed not— pinned to its dress— then her travelling expenses; 
after which she delivered it at the hospital, got a receipt for its 
delivery, and retumed to claim her demand, which was pud only on 
producing it In the mean Ume, the unfortunate infitnt had to 
encounter all ika comfbrta of the establishment, untJl it was drafted 
out to a charter school, in which hotbed of pollution it received 
that exquisitely moral education that enabled it to be seat out 
into socie^, admirably qualified to sustain the high character of 

"Morrow, PoU," s^d Darby; "wbafs the youngest news widyon? 
And Baymond, Ab hattlta, my boy, how goes it wid yon P" 

"I don't care for you," replied the fool ; " you drove away Widow 
Brannigan's cow, an' left the childre to the Idack wather. Bad luck 

Darby started ; for there is a snperstiUon among the Irish, that 
the curse of an " innocent" is one of the most unlucky that can be 

" Don't curse me," replied Darby ; " sure, Baymond, I did only m/ 

" Then who made you do your duty P" asked the other. 

** Why, Val the Vul— hem — Mr. M'Clatchy, to be euie." 

* 8m note A In Appendix. 



« Bad lock to kirn then V* 

His mqtheri who bad been waUung a little before him, tamed, 
and pat her hand hastily towards his mouth, with the obvions 
intention of snppreSE^ the imprecatioD ; but too late ; it bad 
escaped, and be the consequeoce what it might, Val had got the 
exciting cause of it. 

"Mj poor iinf<Minnate bop," said she, "you oi^htn't to curse any 
body ; stop this minute, and say God bless him." 


" Mr. M'Clutchy." 

" "Hie devil bless Mm I ba, ho, ha I Doesn't he barry the pocn*, an' 
drive away their cows from them — doesn't be rack them, an' rob 
tbem — bany them, rack them, rob them — 

"Hairy them, rack them, rob tbem, 
Bob them, rack them, harry thenn— 
Hany tbem, rack them, rob them, 
Bob them, rack them, bany tbem I" 

This he Eung in an air somewhat like "Judy Callaghan." 

"Ha,ba,hal Ob (he devil bless bim ! and they say a bksun' from 
the deril is very like a curse from God." 

^nie mother once more pot up ber. hands to his fac^ but ontj with 
the intention of fondling and caressing him. She tenderly stroked 
down his head, and patted his cheek, and attempted to win him out 
of the evU humour, into which the sight of Darby, and the mention 
of HKHittAy had thrown him. Darby could observe, however, that 
sho speared to be deeply troubled by the idiot's conduct, as was 
evident by the trembling of her hands, and a perturbation <^ 
manner, which she could not conceaL 

** Baymixid," she said, soothingly, " won't yon be good for mc, 
darlin' — for your own mother, my poor helpless boy? Won't you be 
good for «w ?" 

" I will," said he, in a more placid voice. 

" And yon will not curse any body any more ?" 

" No, mother, no." 

« And won't you bless Mr. M'Clutchy, my dear child ?" 

" There's a flg for him," he replied—" there's a fig for him. Now !" 

*'But yon didn't bless him, my darlin'— you didn't bless Hm yeL" 

Ab abe spoke the words, her eye caught bis, and she perceived 
that it b^an. to gleam and kindle. 

** WeU n<^ sud she hastily t " no, I w<ai't ask yon ; only hould 
your tongn&-^nd say no more." 

DC,.. zed oy Google 


She again patted^his clieek tenderly, and the Serj Ugbt wUch begaa 
to bum in his eye died gradnally away, and no other expresdon 
icmained in it, hot tiie habitnal one of famocesce and good natnre 

" No, no^" B^d she, shaking her head, and speaking as nraclt to 
beiself aa to Darby t " I knoir Mm too well ; no earthly power will 
pnt him out of hie own way, once he takea it into his head. Tliis 
TBJnate^ if I had spoke another word about the blesdn', MKiSutchy 
would a got another curse i yet, except in these fits, my poor cluUI 
is kindness and tenderness itself; and seldom spakes ill of any 
body tmlesB some one that's not good." 

" Well now," said Darby, "that that's over, can you tdl me, FoU» 
what^B the news ? When were you in Dublin ?" 

" Tve given that up," replied Poll t " Tm too ould and stiiF for it 
now. As fcff the news, you ought to know what's goin' as well as I 
do. You're nearly as much on the foot." 

"Ho ; nor if ereoy head in the parish was 'ithin side o' mine, I 
wouldn't know as much in the news line as yon, PoB." 

" The news that's goin' of late, Darby, is not good, an' you know 
iL There's great grumblin,' an' great complaints, ever since Ur. 
M'Qutchy became Undhfir Agent ; and you know that, too." 

" But how can I ^event that 7° aaid Darby t ** sure Fd dde wid 
the people if X oould." 

•• Yoi^d side wid the people^ an' yoif d ude wid the man that 
oifffeaaea them, even in spito of JMr. Hickman." 

'* God hkss Mr. Hickman I" sidd Raymond, " and the divil curse 
Iiim I and sure 'tis weD known tliat the diviTB curse is only another 
name for God's bleaain'. God hieat Ur. "n«^fcn**Ti I" 

"Amen, my darlin' child, wid all my heart," said FdQ; "bu^ 
Darby," she continued, " take my word fi^r it, that these things wont 
end well. The estate and neighbourhood was peaceable and quiet 
till the Vulture began his pranks, and now " 

" Very well," said Darby, " the Uame be hi^ an* if it eomes to 
that, the punishment } so lar as myself^ consaraed, I say, let every 
herrin' hang by its own tail — / must do my dn^. But teH me. Poll — 
hut, woman, never mind the Volture— let him go to the devil his 
own way ; tell mo— do yon ever hear from your son ^Prank, that 
Brian U^ionghlin sent araiBS?* 

** ISo," said she, " not a word ; but tba curse </ heaven on Brian 
Hlfoughlin 1 Was my fine young man worth no .more than hit 
ganan of a borse, timt be di&i't tieal eitlter, till he was put to it 
by the Finigamb" 

r^cinzedoy Google 


'Wen, niro two o^ them w«re a«iit over soon aflbar him, if that's 
■Dj cranfort.'' 

" Itfi no ocH&Ani," replied Pol), " but Pll tell joxk whu'i a oomfort, 
Us tbosght that m nffnx die tiU I have fall reringe on Briui 
UQiioiighlin—Ay, either on him or hie — or both. Come, BaTmond, 
fatre Ton nc^er a spore curse now for Brian UlAnigUin P — ^yoa could 
^ve a fat one to H'ClitUihy tliis miDiite — an' have yon none for 
ffian MOioaghlin P* 

"No," replied the wn, " he does'nt be hanjin the poor." 

" Wen. but he transported your brother." 

"No matter; Fnnk osed to beait me— lie was bod, an' Brian 
K1<o«^iliQ was good (o me^ an' does be good to me ; be gives me 
a bttDy dinner or breakfast whenever I go there — an' a good bed in 
the bani ; X won't curse him. Kow I" 

" It's no ose," continued Foil, " it's no use t he'll only do what he 
likes himself, an' ihe best way is to never heed him." 

"I bdieve ao," said Darby, " but wbere's your daughter Lncy now, 

" Wby," said Foil, " she has taken to my trade, an' thravels up 
to the Fondlin' ; although, dear know^ i^B hardly worth her while 
now — it won't give her salt to her foniige, poor girl." 

"Wlqr, are the times mendin'?" asked Darby, who spoke in a 
moral point of view. 

« Mendin' 1" exclaimed Poll, " ob, ay indeed ; throtb they're not 
fit to be named in the one day with what they used to be. But. 
tnd<i> ff l, of late Fm h^py to ny that they are impiovin' a bit," said 
sh^ BpeaUng professionally. " If'Clulchy's givin' them a lift, for 
Fve ever an' always remarked, that distress, an* poverty) an' 
Btf^ect if the poor, an* hardship, an' parsecutloiw an' oi^ffeasion, 
and aay thing that way, was sure to have my very heart broke wid 

" And t^ me, Ptfll— did yoa ever happen to get a job £rom a sartia 
pieos gintleman <f the Dome of M'Slime P — now teU the tbmtL." 

" It's a qoestion," refilled Poll, " yon have no right to ax — you 
RHMt know, Daity ODrive, that Fve had my private business at 
wen aa my puUic buuneaa, an* that Fd suSer that righf band to be 
eat off sooner than betray trust. Honour bright, or what's the 
woridgood fori" 

Tbe^ DOW reached a spot where the road branched into twoi but 
P(41 still kept to (hat which led to H'Clulchy's. " Are jroti for the 
Cottage too '(' asked Darby. 



" I am," replied Poll, " Tto been sent for ; but wbst fae wsnts wid 
me, I know no more tban the man in tbe moon." 

Just then tbe tramp of a borers -feet was heard behind tbem, and 
In a mintite or two, Solomon M'Slim^ who was also on bis wa^ to 
the Cottage, rode up to them. 

" A kind good morning to you, Darl^, my &tend I I trust 700 did 
not neglect to avail yourself of tbe— Ah 1" said he, complacently, <m 
catching a glimpse of FolTs face, "I think I ought to recollect your 
features, my good woman — but, no — I can't say I do~No, I most 
mistake them for those of another — btit, indeed, the best of as is 
liable to mistake and error— all frail— flesh ia grass." 

" Ton might often see my face," returned Poll, " but I don't think 
ever we spoke before. I know you to look at yon, air, that* e nil — 
an* it's tbrue what you say toc^ sir ; there's nothing but frailty in the 
world — diril a much else— bowsomever, be that as it may, honour 
brigbt's nt^ motive." 

" And a good motto it is, my ezceDent woman ; is that intereating 
young man your son ?" 

" He is, sir ; but he's a poor innocent that hasn't the full 
complement of wit, sir, God help biml" 

"Well, my good woman," continued Solomon, " as he appears to 
be without shoes to his feet^ will you accept of five shillings, which 
is all the silver I have abont me, to bay him a pair ■" 

<< Many thanks, Mr. M'Sl-hem— many thanks, sir; honour blight's 
my motive." 

" And let it always be so, my excellent woman ; a good momlug 
to you very kindly 1 Darby, I bid you also good morning, and peace 
be with you both." 

So saying he rode on at a quiet, easy amble, apparently at peace 
with his hearty his conscience, his sleek cob, and all the world besides. 

The sessions of Caatle Cumber having concluded as sessions usually 
conclude, we beg our readers to accompany us to Deaker Hall, tbe 
residence of N'Olutcb/s father, the squire. This man was lar 
advanced in years, but appeared to have been possessed of a 
constitution which sustuus sensuality, or perhaps that retrospective 
spirit which gloats over its polluted recollections, on to the very 
▼erge of the grave. In the case before us, old age had sharpened 
the inclination to vice in proportion as it diminished the power of 
being vicions, and presented an instance of a man, at the close of a 
long life, watching over the grave of a corrupted heart, with a hope 
oS meetinn the wan spectres of his own departed passions, since be 


eoofd not meet tbe passions tliemaelves ; and he met thenii for Ih^ 
could not teat, but returned to their fonner habitation, like imcleaa 
apirita as they were, each bringing seven mere along with it, bnt not 
to lormeat him. Snch were the beings with which the sool of this 
aged materialist was crowded. Daring life bis well known motto 
wa^ "let OS eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die." Upon 
this priiuuplfl, expanded into still wider depravity, did he live and 
act during a protracted existence, and to thoee who knew him, and 
well known he was, there appeared something frightfully revolting 
in the sbamelees career of this impenitent old infidel. 

Deaker was a lai^ man, with a rainbow protoberance beforOi 
whose chin, at the time we speak of, rested npon his breast, givinft 
to bitn the exact character which he bore — that of a man who to the 
lost was studious of every sensual opportunity. His grey, goatish 
eye, was vigilant and circumqiect, and his under lip protraded in a 
manner, which, joined to the character <^ his age, lef) no one at a 
loss for the gsuerol sabject matter of his thoughts. He always wore 
top boots, and generally went on horseback, having that port of his 
hat which rested on the collar of his coat, turned up and greasy. 

Squire Deoker's Inngnage was not more moral than his life— for 
he not only enforcetl his principles by his example, but also t^ his 
precept His conversation consequently resolved itself into a mingled 
stream of swearing and obscenity, fiidicole of religion, and a 
hardened triumph in bis own iniquitous exploits, illustrated and 
confirmed by aprodigality of blasphemous asseverations, constituted 
the staple of his thoughts and expressions. According to his own 
prindplea he could not look forward to another life, and consequently 
all that remained for him was to look back upon an unbroken line 
of seduction and proflicacy — 'Upon wealth and influence, not mere^ 
abused, but prostituted to the lowest and grossest purposes of our 
worst passions— npon qrstematic crime — unmanfy treachery— and 
that dishonest avarice which constituted the act of heartless desertion 
in himself the ultimate ruin and d^;radaUon of bis victims. Such 
was this well known squiie of the old school, whose portnut, taken 
from life, will be rect^ized by every one who ever knew him, should 
any soch happen to peruse those pages. 

At the period of which we write, Squire Deoker was near eighty, 
and although feeble and broken down, he still exhibited the remains 
of a large, coarse, strong-boned animal, not without a vigorous 
twinkle of low cunning in his eye, and s duplicity of character and 
principle about his aoguUr and Ul-shaped eye brows which could not 



lie mistaken. lie was cmifined to bis bed, and for !he first timo^ 
during jmay jeam, was unable to attend the Castle Ciunber quarter 

It was the second or tliird day after their dose, that ahDatHwboitr 
€t lea ctdadSf ajc, he avoke finm % hewrj wad vnhealtlij 4oae, 
vUdi eoiild esanrfy be tennod eleep, but rather a kind of middle 
state between that sod waking. At length he raised his head, 
ga^ed, and on finding no one in the ro«n, be let fi j a volley of 
exeorationS) and rang the belL 

*' Is there any one there ? Any one within hearing ? X say Isabel 
Isabel, Jezahel, ore yon aD dead and d — -d ?" 

" No, yonr hononr, not yet — some of na, at least," replied a shrewd- 
loddng lad of abont eighteen, making his appearance. 

**B% Lanty— i^s yon, is it? What do you mean 1^ that, yoa 
deril^ pick-tooth? Whereas Isabel ? Where's Jezabel P Flaying her 
pranks, I sn[^o6e— where is sh^ eh P* 

" Do yon want yonr brandy and wather, sir 7" 

** Brandy and b— 4, yon scoundrel 1 Where's Hiss Fuzzle ?** 

"Why, she's jnst rtnsin' her month, sir, wid a drop of— 

"Of what, yon deviTB imp? bnt I know— she's drinking — ahe's 
drank 1 eh?" 

"Hiss Fnzzle, sir, bid me say, that she's doin' herself the pleasure 
of drinkin' yonr health" — 

"Ha, ha, hal Oh, if 2 were near her — that's alt! drinking my 
heahh 1 She's tipsy, sirrai she never sends me that message, unless 
when she's tipsy"— 

" Not tipsy, yonr hononr, only unwell — she's a little touched wid 
the Jhllinff sickness— she always takes it, nfter rinsin' her month, 
■ir; for she's fond of a sweet breath, your honour." 

"Ah, she's a confounded jade — a livnig quicksand, and nothing 
else. Lanty, ray Ud, if the MissiBsippi was brandy grog, she'd dry 
the lirer — drinking at this honri — well, never mind, I was dmnk 
myself last night, and Fm half drunk yet. Hera, you young 
oconndrel, mix me a glass of brandy and water." 

" Wouldn't yon do it betther yourself, air ?" 

"So, yon whelp, don't you see how my hands, and be hanged to 
ihem, tremble and shaka Fnt in another glass, I sny — carry it to roy 
month now; hold, you crcnl — here's the glorious, pious, and immortal 
memory I Lanly, there's nothing like being a good Protestant, after 
all— so FQ stand to glorions Bill to the last ; nine times nine, and 
ont cheer more I hum I* 

r^cinzedoy Google 

TUX iBisa AGEirr. u 

Hs then kid himialf bock, uid ftttempteJ to whiatle the Boyiie 
Wata', Imt hwing tadj one tusk ia front, the eonnd prodnced 
ntembbd the vUd winiaa of the wind throngh th« dink of ft 
door — ihrill and monotonons ; aSer '•UA hm bmst ost inb) a 
chuckling Uogh, tickled, proh&blj, at the vtkn of fi»t a iU b ft eSi 
■lekidr proring disloTol in qnte at him, and raftutng, as h were^ 
to be whistled. 

At thia moment HisB Isabel, w aa he mott frequendy called her, 
Uin Jeaabel Fnzd^ came in with a gjeaming eye, and an tmateady 
atop — her hair partially dishevelled, and her dresa moat negligent^ 
pat on> The moment Deaker saw faer, his whole manner change^ 
notwithatanding hia previooB Tioleoce— the swa^er departed from 
bim, hia eoontenanoe fell, and he laj mnte and terror^tricken befor* 
her. It waa indeed dear that her away over him was boundleaB^ and 
anch waa the fact On this occaaon she aimpty looked at him 
aignifctairtly, held np her haad in a menacing attitode, and hatring 
Bade a no^ eurta^, immediately Idt the room. 

" hmtj" sud he in an nndertoife, when she had gone — " I«n^, 
yon dip, go and tall her to forgave ne i I said too much, aod Tm 
Bony for it, say—go, yon aconndrel.'* 

** Fiux Fll do DO sidi Aisg, dr." replied Lanty, aloimed at the 
nature at the message ; " I know better than to come across her 
»9m f abe'd whale the life out o^ me. Sore ehe^a aflber flsilln' the 
oook out (/ the kitchen — and Tom Corbet the bntler has one of bis 
ears, be aayi, hangin' off him as long as a blood-honnd's.'' 

" ^eak easy," etid Deaker, in a Toioe of terror, " wpmk lower, or 
she may hear yon— Isn't it strange," be stud to himeelf, " that I who 
ne*er feared God or man, should qnail before this jade 1" 

*' Begad, an" here's one, yonr honour, that 'ill make lUrijmSi, if he 

"Who {• it," asked the other eageriy, "who is it, you Imp?* 
** Why, Mr. M'Clutcby, sir; he's ridLi' np the avenue." 
"Ay, Tal the Vdtnre— Td the Tdtsre— J like that fdlow— X 
like him for his confoundedly clever Xtq^uefy i only Ms a hypocrite^ 
a&d clMflo't sei the world at deSanee aa I do t na> he's a cowardly 
akulkisg hypocrite, neariy as great a one as U'Slime, but doeent 
talk so mndt about religion as that oily gentleman." 
Li a few moDMAta U'Clntchy entered. 

" Good mormw, YaL Well, Tal — w«I^ my vnltnre, wha^s in Ae 
wind DOW ? Who's to suffer ? Are yon ready fcr a pounce ? Bh ?" 
" I was sorry to hear that your health's not so goodt ur, as it waa." 



" Tou li^ toy dear Vultura; you lie in your throat, I tell you. 
You're wfttcbiog for my oroae, snuffing tbe air at a distance under 
the hope of a gorge. No— you didn't care the devU had me, provided 
you could make a bawl t^ iL" 

" I hope, sir, there's no——" 

" Hope I Yoa rascally hypocrite, what^a hope good for P Hope to 
rot in the grave is it P To meU into corruption' and feed the 'Wonng 7 
What a predouB putrid carcase Fll make, when I'm a month in the 
dirt. Maybe you wouldn't much reliah the ecent of me then, my 
worthy Vulture. Curse your beak, at all events 1 what do yon want? 
what did you coma fur?" 

Val) who knew his worthy sire well, knew also the moat saccessful 
method of working out any purpose with him. He accordingly 
replied, conscious that hypocrisy was out of the question— 

** The fact is, sir, I want you to ud me in a piece of knavery." 

"TUdo it — I'll do it. Hang me if I don't. Come— I like thaU- 
it shows that there's no mock modesty between ua— that we know one 
another. Wha^s the knavery P 

"Why, sir, Vm anxious, in the first place, to have Hickman, the 
head agent, out, and in the next, to get into his place, if possible. . 
Now, I know that you can assist me in both, if yon wish." 

" How ?" asked Deaker, who was quite as able a tactiUan as his 
son, and who, in fact, had contrived to put himself so completely in 
possession of the political Influence of the county, as to be able to 
retnm any one he widied. ** How is it to be done P Tell me that ?" 

"I have understood from a sore sooroe, that Lord Cumber wanta 

"Tut," replied Deaker, who now forgot a great deal of his 
swearing, and applied himself to the subject with oil the coolness and 
ability of a thoroagh man t>{ business ; "Tut, Val, is that your 
news? When was he ever otherwise P Come to the point; the thing's 
dcrirable — but how can it be done P" 

« I think it can ; but it must be by very nice handling, indeed." 

" Well — your luce handling then ?" 

" The truth is, that Hickman, I surest, is almost sick of Ih* 
Ageni^— thanks to Lord Cumber's eztntvaganoe, and an occasional 
bit of blister which I, through the tenantry, lay on him at home. 
Cumber, you know, is an unsteady scoundrel, and in the ordinary 
tnnsactions of life, has no fixed principle; for he is posseased of 
little honour, and I am afraid not much honesty." 

"Ob murdert tliia fnua Vol tbe Vultnret Let me look «t yool 



Did M'Stime bite joa, or have 7011 turned Uethodiat? Hulj 
Jnpiter, what a sermos I Cnne yom beak, sir ; go on, and so 

"Not mncli honea^, as I said. Now, sir, if yon who have him 
doubly in yonr power — ^first by the mortgage, and, secondly, as bia 
political ^odiatlier, who can either put him In, or keep him oat of the 
county — if yon were to write him a finendly, confidendal letter, in 
which, observe^ yon are about to finally arrange your afiUrs ; and 
yon are sorry— quite sorry — but the truth is, something must be 
done aboat that mortgage — ^you are -very sorry — mark— but yoa are 
<rid, and cannot leave your proper^ in an unsettled state> Jnet touch 
that part of it, so " 

" Yea — touch and go." 

** Exactly — touch and go. Well, you paaa then to the political 
portion of it. Hickman's political opinions are not well known, or 
at least doubtful. Indeed' yon have reason to believe that he will 
not support hia lordship or his family — is not in the confidence of 
govenunent— displeased at the Union — snd gmmhles about corrup- 
tion. His lordship ia abroad, yon know, and cannot think Cm himself. 
Ton speak as his fiiend— his tried friend — he ought to Iiave a man 
on hie pr(^>ert? who Is riannc^'can be depended on, and who will see 
that full jostioe ia done him in his aheence. Hickman, too, ia against 
Aacendan^ principles. Do yon see, sir ?" 

" Proceed — ^what next ?" 

" Why, we stop there for the present ; nothing more can be dono 
ootil we hear &om the scoundrel himsetf." 

" And what do yon imagine will be the opshot P* 

" Why, I think it not at all unlikely that he will place himself and 
his interests, pecnniary and politicat, altogether in yonr hands, and 
consequently yon will probably have the guiding of him." 

"Well, Val, you are an able knave, to be sure ; but never mind, 
I lika yon all the better. The true doctrine ia always— «a^ drinkt 
and be merry, Jbr to-morrow you die — take as much out of life, and 
your fellow men as you can. There's no knavery in the grave, my 
Vulture. Thero the honest man and the knave are alike ; and this 
being the case, what the devH Is public opinion worth P" 

"It's worth a great deal if we use it for our own purposes while 
we're here ; otherwise I agree with yon that it's vainness in itsdf " 

" You're a cursed clever fellow, Val; an able knave, as I said— but 
I don't like yonr aon ; he's a dishonest blockhead, and I needn't tdl 
jou that the man who has only brains enough to be dishonest ia a 



iiKHt oaatamptitia soonodrel Ton and I are logara, bat then we 
are aUe rognes who have risBn by on- roguery. As ibr Fhil, h^U 
never rifle by bis roguery except to the gaUowB." 

"Are yon not aUe to get up?" aaked TaJ in a very dntifiil and 
affectionate voice. 

" Able enough oov, but my bead swam a while ago at a dnwd 
rate. I waa drank, as vsnal, laat night, and oould do notiiinft not 
eran pat a tambkr to my mooUi, nntil I took a stiff glasB of brandy 
and water {mm Lantyi and that fau set me np again. When AuH I 
wiitB to yncDK Ti^ertoe^ the Cumber frilow ?" 

"The sooner th« better. idwi tat I think yon ought to rise and 
take some exercise." 

" So I shall immediately, and to-morrow I writer then, aoeordin^ 
to yonr able instroction^ most snbtle and aagacioos VaL Aie yoa 

" Tas( good bye^ sir, and many thanks' 

" None of yonr stuff, I say, but be off out of this—" and as be 
spoke, Val disappeared 

So far the first steps for ousting Mr. Hickman were taken by this 
pwcious father and bis equally valuable sm. Val, however, enter- 
tuned other ^»ecnlaUonB quite as ingenious, and far more malignant 
in th^ tendency. Hickman, at eonrse, he might, by nnderanneata 
and mantBuvrii^ succeed in fleeting ftom the agency ; but he eouM 
not absolutely ruin him. Nothing short of this, however, did he 
prtqusa to himself, so far as UljODghlin, and, we may add, ereiy one 
connected with him, were canoemed; for M'Clntohy possessed that 
kind of economy in his moral feelings, that always prompted him to 
gratify his interest and his malice hj the same act of virtue. How 
be succeeded in tlua benevolent rescdntion, time and the progress of 
this truthful faitfoty will show. 

r^cinzedoy Google 



BSscaimoii or a suioaB KVBimio — a ktstxkious hxetikci — A 

CDIOU— -1.0110 CQMBSS'B XSP1.T. 

Tax aeaeou was now aboat the close ci May, that delightful mootk 
which presents the heart and all our purer eenaalioiis with a twofidd 
enjoyment ; for in that sweet period have ve not all the I 
and dehcacy of spring combiiied with the fuller and more e 
charma of the leafy summer—lilce that portion of finale Hk, in which 
the eye feels it difficult to determine whether the ^^fHfTat^" beauty of 
the hlnshing girl, or the riper loreliiMSfl of the fuU grown maid, pro- 
dominates in the perstm. The time was evening, about half-an-faour 
bef<»e that soft repoae of twilight^ in which may be peroeiTed the 
fiobsiding stir of busy life, aa it murmurs itself into slumber after tfaa 
acUve poTBuits of day. On a green upland lawn, that was a sheep 
wtJk, some portiooa of which were studded over with the blotnning 
and fragrant fune, stood an old eccleBiastical nun, grey from time, 
■ad breathing that spirit of vague but dreamy reverie^ which it 
caught firom the loTeUness of die season, the calnuiess and the golden 
light of the hour, accessoriei^ tha^ by their influence, gave a solemn 
beanty to its very deaoladon. It reminded one s<miewhat of Um light 
which coming death throws upon the cheek of you^ when he 
treacherously treads in the soft and noiseleaa steps of decline — or 
rather of that still' purer light, which, when ihe aged Christian 
arrives at the close of a well spent life, accompanied by peace, and 
hope, and calmness, falls like a glory on his bed of death. The rnia 
was but small, a remnant of one of those hnmMe, but rude temples, 
in which God was worshipped in simplicity and peacc^ far Irom the 
noisy tumults and sanguinary conflicts of ambitious man. 

Through this sweet upland, and dose to the rutu, ran a footpath 
that led to a mounbun village of condderable extent. Znunediately 
behind the rum stood a few Ut^ge hawthorn trees, now white with 
bloflS(»ns, whose fragrance made the very air a loxory, aad Ikud 
whose branehea came forth those gudies of evening melody that ihed 
tenderness and tranquillity into the troubled heart. 

The country in the distance lay charmed, aa it were, by the «alm 
spirit of peace which seemed to have diffused itself over the whde 
landaoqpe— western windows were turned into flr«— tin motaonleia. 


Iftkes shone l!ke mirrors wherever thej cai^^ht the beams of the ereninf^ 
light, as did eeveral beoda of the broad river which barely moved 
within its winding banks through the meadows below. The son at 
length became half concealed behind the summit of the weMern hills, 
so that his rich and goi^eous beams fell only upon the aarronnding 
uplands, now lit into purple, leaving the valleys and lower parts of the 
country to repose in that beaudfu] shadow which can be looked upon 
from the highw parts, only through the crimson glory of the departing 
lighL And now the sun has disappeared — is gone — but still how 
beandful is the fading splendour that sleeps for a little on the moun- 
tain tops, then becomes dimmer and dimmer— then a faint streak 
which gradually melts away until it is finally lost in the soft shadows 
of that thoughtful hour. And even thus pasaeth away all human 

The ruin which we have mentioned stood about half way between 
the residence of Brian M'Longhlin and the mountain village to which 
we have aQuded. Proceeding homewards from the latter place, having 
performed an errand of mercy and charity, was a very beautiful girl, 
ezqniritely formed, but somewhat below the middle size. She was 
Brian Hlioughlin's only daughter— a creature that breathed of 
goodness, grace, and all those delightful qualities that make woman » 
ministering angel amidst the cares, and miseries, and sorrows of life. 
Her figure, symmetry itself, was so light, and gracefnl, and elegant, 
tliat a new charm was displayed by every motion, as a new beanty 
was discovered by every change of her expressive countenance ; hei 
hair was like the raven's wing, and her black eye, instead of being 
sharp and piercing, was more in accordance with the benignity of her 
oharact«r, soft, sweet, and mellow. Her bust and arm were perfection, 
and the small white hand and taper fingers would bare told a con- 
noisseur or sculptor that her foot, in lightness and elegance of for- 
mation, might have excited the envy or Iris or Camillik 

Having reached the ruin, she was rather surprised to see the figure 
<rf a thin woman dressed in black, issue out of it, and approach her 
with somewhat of caution in her manner. Mary M'Longhlin waa 
K pri of stroi^ mind and fiimcharactcr, and not likely to feel alarmed 
by any groundless cause of apprehension. She immediately rec(^' 
oiied the woman, who was no other than our old friend Foil Doolin, 
and in tiie phrases peculiar to the country, made the usual kind 
isqniry after her health and welfare. 

" Zt^s a Tei7 nnusual thing, FoU," she proceeded " to see you in 
this part of the neighbourly n ^ 

Dcinzedoy Google 

oy Google 



** Tt iS|' returned Poll ; " I was'nt so Dear the mountains this nuny 
K daj; an' I wouldn't be hero now, onlj an your account* Miss 

Now, Mary was by no means ignorant of the enmity which tliis 
wonun entertained agunst her father and famUy, in consequence of 
famving proKcilted «ad transported her profligate son. ^Witliont tho 
sligbtest approhension on that account, she fclt^ however, »good deal 
pnesled as to tiie meaning which could be attached to Foil's words. 

" How, on my account. Foil ? I don't understand you." 

" Neither yon nor your»demTe it at my hands ; but for all that, 
I'm here to do you a good turn." 

•*I hope I never deee^ed'uiyenl at your hands, PoU." 

" No, but yon're yo^ir fmthei'a dai^hter for «U that, an' it's not 
asnal to hate the tree and spare the branches." 

" I suppose yon allude to the transportatian of your son ; but 
remember. Poll, that I was only a child then ; and don't forget that 
had your sen been honest,*lie might stiU be a oomfort and a credit to 
yon, instead of a ehanfa and a sorrow. 'I don't mean, not do I wish to 
hort your f«eUng8,'Pell ; but I am anxious ^at you should not indulge 
in such bittemese'Df heart against'jny father, who only did what he 
could not avirfd." ■ . i 

*' Wen," saicl Polly " never ndnd that — although it isn't aisy for a 
mother to forget her child wid all hia f&Uts — I am here, as I sai^, o;i 
your acGpimt — ^I ani here, to tell 'you, tlist there's danger about you 
and hefiwe you, aod-to put yoir onyour guard ag^St it, I am here. 
Miss Hary HfLoVEl>^ ^Q^ if Tm not your friend — and I'm no( 
s&yin' that I am not — sliD I'nf . the friend of ode that is your friend 
and that will protect yon, if he' can." 

" That ia very strange. Poll,' for I know not how I can have an 
enemy. What danger could a simple inoffensive girl like n^e ^eel— 
I who have never knowingly ofiended'any body ?". 

" I have said the truth," replied Poll, " and did my duty — ^you're 
now warned, so be on your guard and take care of;Belf-'' 

" But how, Poll P Ton mention danser, yet have not tol^ me what 
it is, where it's to come &om, or bow I am to guard myself against 

Tm not at liberty," said Pdll; "but this I can tell you, It's 
threatening yon, and it comes from a quarther where you'd nevat 
look for it." 

Mary, who was neither timid nor surprised, smiled with the go» 
fidence of innocence, and replied, after a short pause of thought 



" Well, Foil, I have been thinking over my friends, and cannM 
find one that is likely to be mj eaeaaj i at all events I am 4eeffl y 
obliged to 70a ; still if you coold mention what tiie danger is, I would 
certainly.feel the obligation to be greater. As it is, I thank jou 
agun. Good evening." 

" Stay, Miss Mary," replied Foil, walking eagerly a step or two 
ifter her— stay a minute. "I have ran a risk is doin' this— only pro- 
mise me to keep what I said to yon a saicret for a while— as well 
as tbat you never had any private talk wid me. Fromiie this." 

" I shall certainly not prtmtise any such thin^ Foil ; so far from 
that, I will mention eveiy word of onr conversation to my faster 
and family the moment I reach homo. If, as you say, there is danger 
before or around me, there are none whose protection I should so 
naturally seek." 

" But this," Boii Poll, with an appearance of deep anxiety—** this 
is a matther of mere indifierence to yon: it^a to me the danger is, if 
you speak of it — to me, I say— Jiot to yon." 

" Bat I can have no secrets from mj family." 

" Well, but is it ginerons in yon to put me— ay, my very life in 
danger — ^when all yon have to do is merely to say notUng? How- 
ever, since I must speak out — yooll put more than me in danger— 
them that yon love betther, an' that you'd never carry a light heart, 
if anything happened tbem." 

Haiy started— and a light seemed suddenly to break upon her. 

"HowP'sudshe, "my engagement to Francis Hannsn is no secret; 
our marriage, at no distant day, being sanctioned by both our families. 
Is he involved in any danger connected with your hints ?" 

" Deep and deadly, both to him and me. You don't know it. Miss 
Mary. If you love him as yon do— as is well known you do— if you 
would keep him and my poor worthless self ont of dai^r, may^be 
out of bloodshed — don't mention a syllable of this meetin' to any 
one, but oi all persons livin' to himself, until I give you lave — ^nntil 
I can tell you it will be safe to do so. See, I kneel down witb hands 
clasped, I beg it of you for hia sake and safe^ 1" 

It was pretty well known through the whole parish, especially by 
the initiated, that this same Foil Doolin had, in truth, most of its 
Becrele in her keeping ; and that she bad frequently conducted with 
success tbose rustic intrigues whkb are to be found in humUe aa 
weU as in high life. The former part of Poll's character, however, 
na all that bad ever reached the youthful ears of po<v innocent 
Uary, whilst of her address as a diplomatist in tbe plota and pnrsails 


of lore, slie was utlfiriy ignorant. Natarallj unsuspicious, as we 
have already said, slio locked upon the woman's knowing cbaracter, 
nther as a circumstance calculated to corrobonite the truth of the 
mjsteiTy which she must have discovered ; and was eo mnch moved 
hy the nnquestloiiable sincerity of her manner, and the safety of her 
own lover, that she assured her she would keep the secret until 
perniitted to divulge it, which she begged might be at as earlj a 
period 03 possible. Foil thanked her eagerly and gratefally, and in 
a few minutes, havitig made a circuit behind the ruin, sought the 
lower and richer coontiy hj a difierent path. 

Maiy unconsciously stood for some time aAer Foil had left her, 
meditating over the strange and almost unaccountable scene which 
had just taken place, nken a rich v<^ce with which she was well 
acquainted addressed her. She started, and on turning about, found 
Francis Harman before her. Twilight had now nearly passed away, 
and the dusk of evening was deepening into the darkness of a 
sommer night. 

" What on earth are yon thinking of alone in this place, my dear 
Mary, and who was that woman who just left yon?" 

Mary though £rm of character, was also tender and warm of heart, 
and felt deeply for those she loved. The interview with Poll, there- 
fore, had excited apprehensions concerning Barman's safety, which 
disturbed her far more than any she felt for herself. He gave her his 
right arm as he spoke, and they went on towards her father's house. 

** Good Godr he ezdumed, before she bad time to answer him, 
"what has disturbed or alarmed you, my sweet Mary ? I feel your 
heart beating against my arm, in a moat extraordinary manner. How 

The consciousness of the injunction so solemnly and recently 
imposed, distressed her exceedingly. Her love of tmth was like 
her love of life or of heaven, a sacred and Instinctive principle, which 
abe most now not only violate, but be forced to run into the hateful 
practice of dissimulaUon. AU this passed through her mind iu a 

" My dear Francis, I will freely admit that the beatings of my 
heart are not ftlt<^ther without cause ( I have been somewhat 
disturbed, but it will not signify; I shall be quite well in a moment— 
but where did you come from P" 

** They told me you had gone np to poor Widow Carrlck's— and I 
took the short way, thinking to find you there. But what has dil> 
turbed you, my dear Mary ? Something has, and greatly tOOi" 

, .......Google 


Stie looked op vitli nn aflccliunalc fiuilu inlo his face, allhougl^ 
there trembled a tear upon her cjclids ib she spoke. 

" JDo not aek me, mj denr Frvik; nor don't think the circumstaoM 
of much importance. It ia a little aucret of mine, which I cannot 
for the present diaclose." 

** Well, mj love, I onlj aak to know if the woman that lef) you 
was Foil Doolin." 

" I cannot answer even that, Frank ; but such as the secret is, I 
trust yon shall know it." 

"That is enough, my darling. I am satisfied that you would 
conceal nothing &om either your iamily or me, which might ho 
detrimental either to yourself or us — or which we ought to know." 

" That is true," said she, " I feel that it i^ true." 

"But then, on the other hand," siud he, playfully, "suppose our 
little darling were in possession of a secret which we ought nol to 
know — what character should we bestow on the secret Y" 

This, though sud in love and jest, distressed her so much that she 
was forced to tell him so, " My dear Francis," she replied, with oa 
much composure as she could assume, " do not preas me on this 
subject — I cannot speak upon it now, and I consequently must throw 
myself on your love and generosity, only for a short time, I hope." 

*'Not a syllable, my darling, on the subject until you resume it 
yourself — how are widow Carrick'a sick children ?" 

" Scanewhat better," she replied ; " the two eldest are recovering, 
and want nourishment, which, with the. exception of my poor con- 
tributions, they cannot get." 

" God love and guard your kind and charitable heart, my sweet 
Hary," said he, looking down tenderly into her beautiful face, and 
pressing her arm loringly against his ude. 

" What a hard-hearted man that under ^ent^ U'Clutchy, is," she 
exclaimed, her beautiful eye brightening with indignation — " do you 
know that while her children were ill, his bailiff. Darby CDrive, by 
his orders or authority, or some claim or other, look away her goose 
and the only half dozen of eggr she hod for them — indeed, Frank, 
he's a sad corse to the property." 

" He is what on old Vandal was once called for his cruelty and 
oppreodon — 'the Scoorgs of God,' " replied Horman ; " such certainly 
the imhappy tenantry of the T<q>ertoe family find him. Harsh and 
heartless as he is, however, what would he be were it not for the 
vigilance and humanity of Mr. Hickman ? But are you aware, M&ry* 
that his graceful son, Fhil, was a suitor of yours P* 



" Of mine — ha, ha, ha I — ob, that's tuo comical) Frank — but I am 

not Had I realljr ever that honour ?" 
"Host certainly ; his amiable father had the modesty to propose & 

nitriiDonial union between you and hi in F* 

" I Dever heard of it," replied Mary, " never ; — but that is easily 
acraanted for — my father, I know, would not insult me by the very 
neDtioo of it." 

" h'i & &ct, though, that the illegitimate eon of the blasphemous 
ojil iquire, and of the virtuous and celebrated Kate Clank, hinted to 
bare united the M'Loughlin blood with his 1" 

"Hush!" exclaimed Mary, shuddering, "the very thought is 
sickening, revolting." 

"It's not a pleasant subject, certainly," said Harmon, *■ and the less 
titat is said about it the more disgust we shall avoid, at any rate." 

Her lover having safely conducted Mary home, remained with her 
fimily only a few minutes, as the evening was advanced, and he bad 
ftill to go as far as Castle Cumber, upon business connected with tbo 
masuiactory, which M'Loughlin had placed wholly under his super- 

Upon wbot sl^ht circumstances does the happiness of individuals, 
nay, even of states and kingdoms, too frequently depend 1 Harman 
noat assuredly was incapable of altogether dismissing the circura- 
stances of the evening — involved in mystery as they unquestionably 
were — out of his mind ; not .that he eotertiuned tlie slightest possible 
suspicion of Mary's prudence or afiectioii ; but he felt a kind of 
^rprise at the novelty of the position in which he saw she was 
placed, and no little pain in consequence of the disagreeable necessity 
for silence which she admitted had been imposed on her. Hia con- 
fidence in her, however, was boundless; and fiom this perfect reliance 
00 her discretion and truth, be derived an assurance that she was 
acting with strict propriety under the circumstances, whatever might 
be their character or tendency. 

It may be necessary to mention here that a right of passage ran 
from Beleeven, the name of the village in which M'Loughlin resided, 
to the Castle Cumber high road, whiuh it joined a littlo beyond 
Constitution Cottage, passing immediately through an angle of tbe 
clump of beeches already mentioned as growing behind tlie house. 
By this path, which shortened the way very much, Harman, and 
indeed every pedestrian acquunted with it, were in the habit o( 
Irosaing ; and on the night in question ho was proceeding along it at a 
pretty quick pace, when, having reached the beeches just alluded to, 


he perceived two fignres, a male and female, ^parentlj eogsgc^ in 
close and earnest confeisation. The distance at first was too great 
to enable him to form ao^ opinion as to who thej were, nor would 
he have even asked himself the qnesdon, were it not that Ihe waj 
necessarily brought him pretty near them. The reader may form 
some ooncQptloo, then, of his snrprisei bis perplexity, and, di^piise it 
as he might, his piuii, on secert^ning that the female was no otlieT 
Jian Poll Doolln, and her oompaaion, graceful Fbil himaelf — th« 
gallant and acoomplished owner of Haiidaome Harry. 

It appeared quite erident Uiat the subject matter of theb con- 
versation waa designed for no other eara than their own, or wby 
speak as they did in low and guarded tones, that implied great 
secrecy and caution. Nay, what proved still a plainer corroboratioa 
of this — no sooner was the noise of his fbot^tepa heard, than Poll 
squatted herself down behind tbe small hedge which separated tbe 
pathway from the space on which they stood, and this clearly with m 
h(^ of conoealing her person fr«m his observation. Phil also tnmed 
away his faoe witb a parpose of concealment, bnt the impression left 
by his lank and scraggy outline, as it stood twisted before Harman, 
was such as could not be mistaken, Poll's identity not only on this 
occasion, but also during her hasty aeparation from Mary, was now 
established b^ond the possibili^ of a doubt ', a fact which lent to 
both her interviews a degree of mystery that confoonded Harman. 
On thinking over the matter coolly, be could scarcely avoid believing 
lliat her appearance here was la some way connected with the 
circumstances which had occasioned Mary so much imitation and 
alarm. This iuspicioo, however, soon gave way to a more generons 
estimate of her character, and be oould not permit himself for a 
moment to imagine Ibe existence of anything that was prejudicial to 
her troth and afiection. At the same time he felt it impossible to 
prevent himself from experiencing a strong sense of anxiety, or, 
perhaps we should say, a feeling of inr<duntaTy pain, which lay like 
a dead weight upon his heart and spirits. In truth, do what he 
might, and reason as be would, he oould not expel from his mind the 
new and painful principle which disturbed it. And thus he went 
oil, sometimes triumphaDtly defending Hary fr<au all ungenerous 
suspicion, and again writhing under the vague and shapeless surmises 
which the singular events of the evening sent orowding to his imagi- 
t^tion. His dreams, on retiring to seek repose, were frightful — 
Mveral times in tbe night he saw graceful Phil squinting at him with 
Bondescript leer of vengeance and doriiuon in his yellow goggle cye% 


iftd bearing Mat ^ off, like some muahapen ogre of old, mountd 
npon HandfltHoe Harry, who appeared to be gifted with the speed of 
Harkawaj or flying ChiMers, whilst he himself could do nothing but 
stand belpleailj by, and contemplate the triumph of his hated rival. 
In the meaatime, the respected father and grandfather of that 
worthy yoong gentieman were labouring a> assidnonsly for his ad- 
rancement in life, as if he had been gifted with a oatalogne of all 
hmoaa virtoes. Old Deaker, tme to his word, addreaeed the very 
«ext day, the following characteristio episHo— 

"ToAe Sight Him. Lord CMtber. 
" Hr Loan — It is nnneoessaiy to tell you that I wHs, during my 
life, B pl^n, blunt fellow in all my transactions. When I was bonest, 
I was honest like a man ; and when I did the roguery, I did it like 
an open, fearless knave, that defied the world, and scomod hypocrisy. 
I am, therefore, the same consistent old scoundrel as erer ; or tbo 
same blnl^ good-hnmonred rascal which your dd father — who sold 
his coontiy— and yourself — who would sell it too, If you had one to 
sen — ever found me. To make ehort work, then, I want you to dis- 
miss that poor, seorvy devil, TTii.liTn»n, froia your agency, utd to put 
that misbegotten spawn of mine in his jJace— I mean Val llfCIntcky, ' 
or Val the Vulture, as they have very properly christened him. 
Hic k m a n 's not the thing, in any sense. He can't manage the people, 
aod they impose upon him — then you suffer, of course. Besides, 
he's an anti-ascendancy man, of late, and will go agtunst you at Uio 
forthcoming election. The fellow pretends to have a conscience, and 
be coiaed to him — prates about the Uaioo — preaches against corrap- 
ti<H» — and talks about the people, as if they were fit to be anything 
else than what they arc. Thb is a pretty fcQow for you to have as 
an agent to your property. Now, FU toll what, my Lord — you know 
old Dcaker well. His motto is— -'let ua eat, drink, and be merry, 
for to-ftorrow we die! Ill tell yoo what I say ; I have a mortgage 
on your property for fourteen thousand pounds. Kow, put in Val, 
(V ni be speaking to my lawyer about it. Put in Val, or you will 
never warm your posterities in a seat for this county, so long as I 
carry the key of it. In doing so, make no wry faces about it — you 
win only serve yourself and your property, and serve Vol into the 
bargain. Val, to be snre, is as confounded a scoundrel as any of us, 
bat then he is a staunch Protestant ; and yon ought not to be told at 
this time of day, that the greater tlie scoonilrel, the better tbd agenk 
Would you hare a fellow, for instance, whose consciencet Odoedt 



mngt atand between yon tai joor interest ? Would you Lave oome 
bonest blockhead, viho, when yoii are to be aerved by a jnece of 
Triendly raacalitj, will plead scntplee ? If so, you are a greater fool 
than ever I took you to be. Make Val yoor agent, and it is not you 
that will snfier by him, bat the people— whom, of conrae, no one 
carea a cnrae about. I ought to have ecnne dum on yon, I tliink. 
Many a lift I have giTen yonr {oecions old father, Tom Topertoe^ 
when I did not think of pleading acruiJes. To tell you the troth, 
many a dirty trick I played for him, and never brought my consmence 
to account for it. Moke the most of this rascally world, and of the 
rascals that are in it, for we are all alike in the grave. Put in Tal, 
then, and don't mike an enemy of 

" Tour old friend, 

"RuntAL DxAKKB. 

*'P.S. — As to Tal, he knows nothing of this transaction ; I told 
bim I would say so, and I keep my word. I forgot to aay, that if you 
write this beggarly devil, Hickman, a sharp letter for money, be may 
probably save you the trouble of turning him out. I know him 
well ; he is a thin-skinned fool, and will be i^t to bolt if yon follow 
my advice. Indeed I have heard, or rather Yal has, that he is already 
sick of his office ; if so, you will have the less trouble. 
"Yours as you deserve it, 

•' B. D." 

Now, it is necessary to say here, that amidst all this pretence of 
open viUany, there ran an undercurrent of cnnning that might escape 
the observation of most men. In truth, old Deaker was not only a 
knave, but amost unscrupulous oppressor at heart, especially when he 
happened to get a man in his power from whom he wished to extort 
a favour, or on whom he wished to inflict an injury. In the present 
instance he felt perfectly conscious of his power over the heartless 
profligate to whom he wrote such a charactcrislio letter, and the 
result shows that he neither miscalculated the feeble principles of his 
correspondent, nor the consoquonces of his own influence over him. 
By due return of post he received a reply, of which the f<^owiog U 
a copy : — 

" Old X>bakxb — ^Ton have me fast, and yon know it — so I suppose 
mutt is the word ; now FU tell you what I want, you old villain ; [ 
want two thousand pounds, and if M'Clutehy is to get the agency, I 

?H£ IStSD IGEMT. jj 

mutt have the money — so there is my mnst u well tu yourt. In tlia 
meaDtune I have written to Hickman on the same sulgect— want of 
DMoej-, I mean ; what the conseqnencea may be I know not, bnt I 
fancy I can gaess them. 







Iiord Cumber to Heniy Hickman, Esq. 

"London, April Isl, 18 — 
"Mr Dbar Hickman, 

"I wrote to yon the day before yesterday, and as the letter 
wa« one of a very pressing natoie, I hope its influence won't be lost 
npon yon. To yon who are so well acquainted with the cursed pickle 
in which I now find myself, it is unnecessary to say that I shall be 
fairly done ap^ unless yon can squeese something for me out of those 
rascally tenants of mine. Fairly done up is not the proper term 
either ; for between yon and me, I strongly anspect a young felloif 
called Swingler^ ui ironmongei'a son, of giving me a twist too mucb, 
on more than one occasion. He was introduced, that is, proposed as 
a member of our clnb^ by Sir Robert Ratsbane, whose grandfather 
was a dmggist, and seconded by Lord Loadstone, the celebrated lady 
killer, as a r^nlar pigeon, who dropped, by the death of old ■ bum 
the wind,' into half a million at least. The fellow did appear to be a 
very capital qtecnlation, but the whole thing, however, was a trick, 
(s I strongly suspect ; for our gentleman after losing to a tolerably 
smart tune, began to iUnatrate the doctrine of re-action, and has, 
under the character of a pigeon, already fleeced half a score of ue. 
Last week I suffered to the tune of eight hundred — Sir Harry 
Heavybead, to that of twelve — Bill Swag, five — and the Hon. Tom 
Trickman bimself, who Bcaicely ever loses, gave bills for sin fifiics. 



I can't Btand this, Hiaknuut that is, X eftnnot iiflbrd to sUnd H. 
Wliat is fifteen thonaand a ^ear to a man like me, who moat BoppoHL 
his rank, or be driveD to the purgatorial altenuUive of being impn- 
sonod on his own estole? Hickman, you have no bowela for me^ 
although you can have for the hard-£stod boors on my proper^, who 
won't pay np as they ought, and all through your indolence or neglect. 
Yon mutt send me money, get it where yon will ; beg, Inmtow, rob) 
drive, cant, sell ont-^>r money I must have. Two thonsand within 
a fortnight^ and no disappointment^ or I am dished. Ton know not 
the demands npon me, and therefore yon, naturally enoagh, think 
veiy easily — much too easily— of my confounded difficulties. If yon 
had an opera girl to keep, as I have — and a devilish expenmve 
appendage the aflecUonate jade is — perhaps you might feel a litUe 
more Christian sympathy for me than yon do. If yon had the expenses 
of my yacht — my large stud at Melton Mowbray and DoncBSter, and 
the yearly deficits in my betting book, besides the never-ending trun 
of jockeys, grooms, feeders, tnuuers, et hoe genus omne, to meet, it 
is probable, old boy, you would not feel so very boundless an interest, 
as you say you do, in the peace and welfare of another man's tenantry, 
and an tbis av that other man's expense. Tou're confoundedly 
unreasonable, Hickman. Why feeU cr pretond to .feel, more for 
these fellows, their bare-le^ed wives, and ragged brats, tlian you 
do for a nobleman of rank, to whiNtt yoa are deeply indebted F I 
mean yon no offence, Hickman ; yon are in oUier respects an honest 
fellow enough, and if possessed of only a little leas heart, as the 
times go, and more skill in ndatng money from these people, you 
would be invaluable to such a distressed devil as I am. As it is, I 
regret to say that yon are more a friend to my tenantry than to 
myself, which is a poor qnaliflcatiim for an agent. In fact, we, the 
Irish aristocracy living here, or absentees as you call ns, instead of 
being assailed by abuse, want of patriotism, neglect of duUes^ and 
all that kind o! staff, have an especial claim upon the compassion of 
our conntrymen. If yon knew what we, with limited means and 
encumbered properties, most suffer in attempting to compete with 
the aristocracy of this country, who are enormously rich, you would 
say that we deserve immortal credit for holding out and keeping np 
appearances as we do — not that I think we always come off scot free 
from their ridicule, espedally when they see the shifts to which we 
are put, in order to stretoh onward at their own pace. However, we 
must drink when we are thirsty as well as they, and if the water 
happen to be low in the cistern, which, indeed, b moflly the case 


vlilt iw, we mtut, as the rook in the fable did with the pebbles, 
ihrow in nckrenting, driiing^ executions, mortgages, loans, &a, in 
order to bring it within our reach — ^for there is ingenui^ in everf 
thing, as the prorerb Bsya, except in roasting of eggs. 

" Come, titeo, Hickman, set to work at once. M7 yacht has been 
dammged by a foolish wager I made, to run her tlirough a creek of 
reefs at low water, so that the mere repairs will cost me a cool two 
Imndred at least. Besides Uiis, I have pledged myself to buy my 
ebannuig little Signora a pair of Bleinheim spaniels that she has 
fallen In love with, for which I shall have to fork oat a hundred and 
Bfty douM. I say, then, again, my dear Hickman, money, money; 
money by any means, but by all means money ; Tern, ted qvocunque 
Modo, rem. 

" By the way, is there not a man there, a kind of under-fellow in 
something — agents I believe — aome time appointed, named M'Switchy, 
or U'Smatchey, or M'Clutchy, or some such euphonious appellaliveP 
Somebody, old Deaker I think, once mentioned him to me in strong 
terms, and sud he might become capable of being useful ; and you 
know, Hickman, as well as I do, that every property circumetanccd 
at mine is, requires a um/v/ fellow of that particular description. 
For instance, I dare say there are certain proceedings connected 
with your duty to which yoa have no great inclination, and, under 
ibese circumstances, would it not be prudent at least to resort to the 
agency of sannebody like this M'Clutchy — a fellow not over-burlliened 
widifoostrongaperc^ion of theiieeesMiry^euwref Butthetruth 
is, if I proceed in this manner, your humanity, as the cant goes, will 
take tiK alarm ; you will say, that my residence abroad has not im- 
proved my principles, and that I am rather strongly tainted with club 
morality, and the ethice of the gaming house. So would you, perhaps, 
if yoa breathed my atmosphere, and were exposed to my temptations. 
But now I am preaching, and not to the right purpose either ; so as 
I said before, I say again — money, money, money. 

" I am, my dear Hickman, 

" Thy friend in distress, 


Heniy Hickman, Esq., to the Bight Hon. Lord Viscount Cumber:— 

"Primrote Bill, April SCh. 
"My Loan, 

" I have had the honour of receiving both your conuuuni- 
cations, and have read tbam, especially that of the himt instant, with 



great ptun. I need not tell you, that I bare been your father's 
friend — that I have been, and still am jour friend, and aa such, 
from my age and anxie^ for your Lordship^a welfare and reputa- 
tion, I moBt take the liberty of one who has both sincerely at heart, 
to write to you in terms which a mere agent could scarcely witli 
propriety use. As this letter, therefore, is written for your own eye 
only, you will be good enough to remember that in everything serere 
and home-spoken in it, the friend, and not the agent, speaks — at the 
same time, I must adnfit, that it is from the knowledge gained as an 
ugeM, that I remonstrate as a friend. 

" It is now beyond ■ a donbt, my Lord, that your position is one 
surrounded with difficulties scarcely to be surmounted, unless by 
measures which I, as an honest man, cannot permit myself to adopt. 
So long as the course of life which it has pleased your Lordship's 
better taste and judgment to pursue, did not bring within the com- 
pass of my duties, as your agent, the exhibition of prindples at 
variance with hiunanity and justice, so long did I fulfil those duties 
with all the ability and zeal for your just interests which I could 
exert. Sut now I perceive, that yon have driven me to that line 
beyond which I cannot put my foot, without dishonour to myself. 
I liave been the agent of your property, my Lord, but I shall never 
become the instrument of your vices; and, believe me, this is a dis- 
tinction which, in our unhappy country, is too seldom observed. 
Many an agent, my Lord, has built himself a fortune out of the 
very necessities of his employer, and lei^ to his children the honour- 
able reflection that their independence originated from profligacy on 
the one hand, and dishonesty on the other. You see, my Lord, I 
find it necessary to be very plain with jou, and to say, that however 
you may feel yourself disposed to follow the one course, I shall not 
rival you in the other. I cannot become a scoui^ inflicted by your 
necessities, not to use a harsher word, upon a suffering people, who 
are already exhausted and provoked by an excess of severity and 
neglect. Think of the predicament in which you would have mo 
stand — of the defence which you place in my lips. Should your 
tenantry nsk mc — ' why are you thus cruel and oppressive upon usr' 
what reply could I make but this — 'I am thus cruel because his 
Lordship is profligate. He wants money to support his mistress, to 
feed her vanities and excesses, and you must endure distress and pri- 
vation, that the insatiable rapacity of a courtesan may be gratiSed. 
His Lordship, too, has horses and dogs, in the welfare of which he 
feels a deep interest.' 'ISuL why docs he not feci an intcitjst in ua''' 


' So he does; fur are not you the persona by vhose toil and labour 
he u en&bled to support them all?' ' So that, in point of fact, w« 
are made indirectly the agents of his crimes. The privations which 
we mtter — the eweat of cur brows — the labour of our hands — go to 
the support of his wantonness, his luxury, and his extravagance] 
This, then, is his interest in usP * Yes — worlct that you may Jeed 
Ikem — starve, that his mistress maj riot in wantonness; perish your 
children, that his dt^ may be fed f In such a position as this, my 
Lord, I shall never place myself, but you may easily find many that 
will. The moment your necessities are known, knavery will be im- 
mediately at work, and assume its guardianship over folly. Indeed 
there is a monarchical spirit in knavery, which has never yet been 
observed. The knave keeps his fool, as did the kings of old, with 
this only difierence — and a material one it is — that whilst the fool 
always Uved at the king's expense, the knave lives at the fool's. 
How yoor Lcwdship may feel under the new administration I cannot 
say; but I am inclined to think, you will not find it a distinction 
without a difibrence. By this, of course, yon understand, my Lord, 
that I at once resign my agency. 

"And now, my Lord, in addition to many other unavailable re- 
monstrances made hy me, not only against your licentious habits as 
a man, bnt against your still more indefensible conduct as a land- 
lord, allow me to address you in a spirit of honesty, which I fear is 
not earily found among the class to which I belong. I look upon 
this as a duty which I owe less to yon than to mj country, because 
I am satisfied that the most important service which can be rendered 
to any man, not ashamed of either his habits or principles, is to lay 
before him a clear, bnt short and simple statement of that which con- 
stitutes hia duty as a landlord — I should say, an Irtih landlord — for 
tliere is a national idiosyncrasy of constitution about such a man, 
which appears to prevent him from properly diechai^ing hia duUes* 
either as a friend to himself, or a just man to his tenantry. 

"The first principle, therefore, which an Irish landlord— or, 
indeed, any landlord — should lay down, as bis fixed and unerring 
gmde, is ever to remember that his tenantry are his best friends— 
— his only patrons ; and that instead of looking down upon them 
with contempt, neglect, or even indifierence, he should feel that they 
are bis chief benefactors, who prop his influence, maintain hia rankf 
and sapport his anthmty. 

" The second is— that the duties of the landlord to hia tenantry 
ara much greater, and for more important, than those of his tenantry 



to him, and should at least be quite as equitably and tttentively 

" The thiid is— to remember that the great mass of the population 
in Ireland belong to one creed, and the great bnlk of landed pro- 
prietors to another; and to take care that none of those fierce and 
iniquitous pTerogatives of power, which are claimed and exercised by 
those who poaseas property, shall be suffered, in the name of religiont 
or polities, or prejudice of any kind, to disturb or abridge the civil 
or religious rights of the people, and thus weaken the bonds which 
should render the interest^ of landlord and tenant identicaL Pre- 
judice so exercised is tyranny. Every landlord should remember 
that the soil is of no rell|^on. 

" The fourth Is— simply to remember that those who live upon our 
proper^ have bodies and souls, passions, reflections, and feelings 
like ourselves — that they are susceptible of hunger, oold, grief, joy, 
sickness, and sorrow— that they love their children and domestic 
relatives — are attached to their religion— bound by strong and heart- 
felt ties to the soil they live on, and are, in fact, moved by all those 
general laws and principles of life and nature, which go to make up 
social and individual happinesB — ^to remember, in shorty that they 
are men who have higher destinies in life than merely ads^islering 
to the wants, excesses, or crimes of others ; and that no condition 
has ever yet been known to subsist between landlord and tenant, or 
even between man and man, by which one party ia required to sur- 
render comfort, freedom, and enjoyment^ in fact all that life is good 
for, merely to gratify the wants, vices, or ambition of another. 

"The fifth and last is — not by oppression, cruelty, or rapaci^, to 
goad the people into madness and outrage, under the plausible name 
of law or justice ; or to drive the national mind — which is a clear 
one — into reflections that may lead it to &11 back npon first prin- 
ciples, or force it to remember that the universal consent by which 
the rights of property are acknowledged, may, under the exasperation 
of over-strained pressure, in a land so peculiarly circumBtanced as 
Ireland is, be altogether withheld, and thus its whole foundations 
shaken or overturned, and the justice of individual claims and pre- 
scriptive rights lost in the tumult. 

"These prindples ore simple, my Lord, but they ought, at least, 
to be better known, or what would be still more de^ble, better 
practised. As, however, my paper is nearly filled, I shall flniah my 
communication with a short fable, to which I beg your Lordship's 
serious attention. 

r^cinzedoy Google 


« There lived a mttn once who was foolish enoagh to entertain a 
aenselan prejudice against cows, because they did not give milk all 
the jear round. This man wfts married, and, of oonrse, had a 
namerona familjr of children, and being vei; lazy and ImprOTident, 
depended principally npon the kindliness of an excellent cow, whoM 
milk was the chief means of his support and thdrs. At length, in 
the dne course of time, the poor cow, as every one most know, 
began to yield it in diminished qnantjties, and as it happened to be 
a severe year, and as the lazy man we speak of had made no pro- 
Tision for its occttrrence, it is nnneccssory to say that he and his 
family were put to the greatest straits for subsistence. Finding 
after mncb deliberation, that the poor animal, which they kicked and 
cudgelled to excess, could not change the laws of nature, or afford them 
that which she did not poBsess, it was determined by her proprietor 
that, as she failed in supplying them with sufficient milk, they should 
try the pUemc, and have recourse to her blood, in order to eke out 
their support. Accordingly she was bled along with being milked ; 
but if the quantity of milk she gave before was little, it now became 
less ; so that in proportion as they drew upon the one the other 
diminished, as was but natural. In this way they proceeded, nulking 
and bleeding the poor animal at the same time, not only without any 
benefit to themselves, but with a certain prospect of her ultimate 
loss, when one day the cow, after having ruminated for some time on 
'.he treatment she was receiving, began to reflect that she could not 
te much worse, or rather, that she mast soon altogether sink 
tnder this system of double drainage. * Well,' tiiought she, ' I feel 
low matters mnst close witii me at last ; I am, indeed, near the end 
•f my tether; what have I now to fear when I know that I cannot 
be worse? And if I am to die, as I must, is it not better to have 
satisfaction for my sufferings?' Accordingly, the next morning when 
her owner went to get btood for their breakfast, it so happened that 
the cow thrust a bom into him, and he was found lying a corpse 
under her lifeless carcase— the last drop of her blood having beet 
expended tmder the final operation of the phlemes. 

" My Lord, the moral of this is as obvious as it is fearful — and 
fearfully have the circumstances of the country, and the principles 
of such men as you, caused it to be illustrated. If landlords will 
press too severely upon the functions of human suficring and 
patience, it is not to be surprised, althongh it is to be deplored, that 
where no legal remedy exists against individual cruelty or rapacity, 
or that plausible selfishness, whic^ is the worst species of oppression— 

r^cinzedoy Google 


tbat the law, I say, which protects only the oue party, shonM bo 
foT^ttet) or despised by the other, and a fiercer code of vengeance 
substituted in its stead. 

" With respect to Mr. M'Clutchy, suiely jour Lordahip mnBt re- 
member that, by your owd letter, he wss sppointed under-agent more 
than three yoars ago. 

"If, alter the many remonstrances I have had occasion- to male 
against his general conduct to the tenants, you consider him a uteful 
man npon your property, you will, in that case, have to abide the 
consequences of your confidence in him. Tou are, at all events, 
duly forewarned. 

" I now must beg leave, my Lord, to render up my trust, to resign 
my utnation as the agent of your estates ; I do bo witli pain, but 
the course of your Lordship's life has left me no other alternative. 
I cannot rack and goad your tenants, nor injure your own property. 
I cannot paralyze industiy, cramp honest exertion, or distress poverty 
slill further, merely to supply necessities which are little less than 
criminal in yourself, and ruinous to your tenantry. 

"Believe me, my Lord, I would not abandon you in your diffi- 
culties, if I saw any honourable means of extricating you fivm them. 
Tou know, however, that every practicable step has been taken for 
that purpose, hut without effect ; your property should grow rapidly, 
indeed, in order to keep pace with the increasing and incessant 
demands which are made upon it. We can borrow no more, and the 
knowledge of that fact alone, ought to set a limit to your extra- 
vagance. Excuse this plainness, my Lord { it is well meant and void 
of intentional offence. 

"I shall be ready in a few days to deliver all books, papers, 
documents, &C., connected with the property, to xaj peraon duly 
authorised by your Lordship to receive them. 

" I have the honour to be, &C., 

"Hbrbt Hickman." 

The Bight Honourable Lord Cnmber to Valentine M'Glutcly : — 

" Doncasler, April 22nd. 

" In consequence of certain commnaications which hare 
passed between Mr. Hickman and myself, I have determined that lie 
afaatl no longer act in the capaci^ of my agent. The situation is 
therefore open, and imUl a competent peraon shall be appointed, I 


tra niSH AGENT. u 

tnOorice 70a to diMharge ita duUes, uid recriT« £rom him a correct 
stataownt ctf all Recounts between no, together with all deeds, leases, 
books, pspen, Ac, in his poBsesaion; yon first hAvtsg procured me 
sdeqoate Beoiiritf> the amount of which vill be determined b; Mr. 
U'SUme, ray law agent, who will join or aid yon in zna!klng all ne- 
cessary arrangemento. 

" Ton wUl also hare the goodness as soon afterwaids as 70B feel 
it practicable, to transmit me a bona JUU accoont of the fiaUTraelcet 
and TuUygrindem estates, their capability of improvement, the con- 
AitiDn of the tenantry, what leases are expired, if any, and those 
which will soon drop, with a view of seeing what can be made out 
of it. In this, also, M'Slime will ud you. 

" As bt the person who may sncoeed Hickman, as a necessary pre- 
Wmiii«Ty he must lay down two thousand pounds, in the shape of aa 
equivalent .for the appointment. Could youi within a fortnight of 
«, raise ao much? if BC^ let me hear &om you without delay, as it 
is not anlikehf that io that case 1 may appoint yourself' 

" By the way, do you uoderstond the manufacture of fbrty-ahilllng 
freeholdets in an eoantmu^ way, because, if yon do, it wonld be a 
detideraltm. Parliament it ia said, will be dissolved in June, and 
I want, aa wbQ as I can remember, nearly two hundred votes. My 
brother lost the last election by something about that nnmber, and X 
know he feels very aoxious to get into parliament, for many reasons. 
He is now on the Continent, where he has been for the last thre* 

Valentine M<C]at4^y> Esq., to the Bight Hon. Lord Yisconnt 

"Ht Lobs, 

"X have had the hiuiottr of receiving yotir Loijship'a 
kind comnranication, to which I hasten U Stake the earliest possiblo 
reply ; and first, my Lord, allow me to return sincere thanks fay 
janr warm kindness, in promising to appmnt me yonr agent. Ton 
may rest, asaorec^ my Lcn^ that I will go throngh my duties ae suoh 
withoot favoor or afiection to any one, barring your Lordship, wbosfl 
interests it will night and day become my dul; to study. With 
respect to the loan your Lordship makes allusion to^ I faar it wi4 
be out of my power to raise it— that is to lite full amoont) but if 
one half woold do, I might, by the aid of firJends, get it together, 
Ab for security, I trust it is only necessary to say, that BandiJ 

r^cinzedoy Google 


Peaker and Cadwajipder Tull/Tagger, Efun., vti w4j i» pn U 
to any uKiant— so tlwt tliere is no difflcoUy there M nU «Tq»t«> 

"On looking ngm at ^qw Lordship's kiod letter, it fti^[w^ pOR- 
qible tiiftt I made « ipiitakQ in cowderipg tli^ two thoosvid u • 
loao ( bqt en tli4 other hand, there is 09t » man living vho reapecta 
the high prindjdes and delicate fealingi of tw anstMUVT more 
Ihan I do^ and the coqaeiiuence wv, that I fiBsred in sapporing it 
'othernie than a loan, I might ofiead joat I^ovdabip's Item naae of 
honpw, which, I pledge mjr (avdit and repumion, weald grieve my 
heart eveti to think of. Under thia impreqaioD, then, I shall coa- 
Unne to belieye it a loan, until I have the honow of bearing bom 
jovT Lordship again. 

" Tour aaxietf, mj Lordi to aieertain the state of yonr pnqtertj 
»qd iba conditvm of jonr tenvitry, is eertainly hononnUe to joni^ 
Mlf, at being a direct proof of the gwvwoos interest yon fiiel in 
tbeip welfare. It M fortnaate, in thia ioatjuace, that yam Lordahip 
should apply to a van who has bad the beat tqiportamtiefl of be- 
ooaniqg apqqainted witb both. Tnt^ I am a sim^e-minded man, 
my Lord, and if I poenaa one ()ul^ mwe than another, it ia a 
|oT« of truth, and a alow, b«t atreJgbtforward penererance in 
wbfrterey is right t it is to thi^ alwi^ nnder Proridenea, that I 
9w« fvarything. J grant, indeed, that it ill beoomea me to speak 
in thia manner U nayMlfi bnt my object in doing ao ia, that as I 
4m kbotit to ORtoT into oommunicstionB tonohing yonr Ixffdahip'a 
tenants and proper^, yon nmy be induced to place tiie fullest oon- 
fldenoe in wbatsrer I ahall say. Uany a time, indeed, my excellent 
and worthy friend, iSx. Hieknum, has made the same obeerratioD, 
and I felt it grat^ylng in the highest degree to hear this frmn « 
man who ia truth itself; and whose only fault is — if it be one — that 
bis heart is too kind, and rather easily imposed on by thoee who 
deal in finnd and onnning. A man like him, who, if he cannot 
speak well of an absant friend, will be ellen^ ta a jewel in thia life^' 
which ought to be worn in the vny core cf the heart. 

'< With respect to the Baliyraoket estate, of which I shaD speak 
lint, I eannot report so faTonrably as I could wish. The task, in 
hot, is to me, personally, a rery painful one ; espeetally with refer- 
ence to that well meaning luid estunable gentlaman, Mr. fflckman. 
' b the ilrst plaee, my Lord, the tenantry are not at all in arrears, 
a dreumstance which is by no means is favour of the landhmU— 
eqtedaUy an Irish one. Every one knows that an Xridi landloTd 
tM olhw demand! npon hia tenantry beddee the payment of thetr 



mrti. Is tbere no strest, for instaaoe, to be Uid mpoa bu polidoJ 
faBneBBtn which ctimot be «zeiied hhImb thnnigh their igency? 
Nnr ■ tanant w>t in axntn to hii Undlo*^ is oompBntirely ind» 
pendent, bat it ia cot with aa indepesdent t a mp t ry that a londkxl 
aaa worit bis wiabee. No, my Lord i the «& princi^ is to keep 
the tenant two or three galee behind, and If ho fiuk in Bttbmiaiioa, 
«r tnniB nstLfi^ and beoomea openly contmnadDa, tAem yon hare the 
meana of redifying the errors of bia jndgmant in yoor own bands, 
and it CM) be done with tite eolonr of both law and jnstiee, behind 
wUdi any maa may itand withont the imptitatiiM of harah motiTO^ 
' or an g w wsbre lo«e of antiovdinatica). I am aony that lb. HioksMta 
dioald diCbr with me on thia point) fiw he is a man whose opinuma 
are -ntj ninable on many things, with tbe exception of his amiabla 
and kind-bearted obstinaoy. 

■ The next disadvantage to yonr interests, my Lord, is tnodtef 
erran — I am sony to be forced to lay it— of Ur. Hickmu. That 
gentleman is an advoeato for education and the spread of knowledge. 
Kow, if an agent were at moeh devoted ta the interests of the pea^de, 
as be is and onght to be to then of the landlord, this prinoiple migbt 
paaa t bat as X take it, that the sole doty of an agent U to cslead tbs 
i rts TBSts of his toj^eyer ezdnsiTely, so am I oi^wsed to any plan or 
practice by which the people may be iMight to think too cleariy. 
Vor, let me ask, ngr Lord, what class of persona, at the approach of 
ao eleetioii, for butsaoe, or daring its oontinnance, an most available 
for our interests P Who are driTon withont reloelano^ without 
tiKK^ht, or witbovt reas<«, in blind asd infataated moltttodea, to Hm 
bastings 7 Certunly not those who bare been edacated, w taught to 
think and set for titemselves, bnt ftfl poor and the ignorant A«^ 
my Lord, Is not the vote of an ignwant man u nUd, in law, as that 
of one who is enlightened 7 For tbeoe reasms^ then, X do not approve 
of the Mw schook which Mr. Hidkman has estiMahed t and J was 
leased to bear that your Iiorddiip waa snAdentiy awake to yonr 
own intvesis, to deoUne granting tbem any sappmt. No, my Xiord ; 
an educated peo^ wiB be a thinking pe(q4e— a blinking people wIB 
be an Independent people~biit ui Independent people wIU not be a 
aunageaUe people; and if that ia not placing the sabject in a 
Bstisflictory Hght, X know not what is. 

" I need scarcely asanre yon, n^ Lord, that In my own hnmbla 
way, I did everythiiig I reasonably could, to discountenance the 
edoca^on system. X even went bo far as to prevent several of the 
tenants £ram sending their children to these schools; but, as nsna^ 



I experienced bat little gratituda at their haodi, or at* thoae of tbeir 
parenlSi This, howereFi was not so much owing to mj interference^ 
as to the accidental cnroomBtance of three or four of them having 
been hanged and transported for Crimea, which they were base 
enough to impnta to the ignoranco occasioned b^ mj priobipiea — 
br ao they 8pbke> 

" Sncb, then, is tlie condition of the Balijracket tenanb/. They 
an not in arrears, and yon may consequently gaeas at the wretched 
Mate of their m<a»k feelings. They are, in fact, every day becoming 
more versed in Ae very kind of knowledge which we don't wish 
them to poBeess. They do not slink aude when they see yon now i 
00 the contrary, they stand erect, and look yon fearlesaty in the face. 
Upon my credit and repatalion this is truth^-meloncholy truth, my 
Lord — and I Cear that at the next alei^n you will find it so to yonr 

"I have lost no time in ascertaining the otber particnlars mentioned- 
in yonr Lordship's letter. The leases ot tiiree townlands expired on 
]tbrch last. They are Denydnwny, Crocknabonlteen, and Ballywel- 
tem. The principal tenant of Deirydowny ts a very respectabla 
widow — one Mrs. M'Swaddle— a woman of serious habits, if not oS 
decided piety. She has three danghters, all of whom sit nnder the 
jninistration cf a Mr. Boltham — a young preacher, belonging to the 
Uethodist connexion. They are to all ^ipearasoe well to do ifl Hm 
world, keep a conversation car, and have tbe reputation of being very 
honest and saving. Old M'Swaddle himself was a revenue colkctM', 
and it is said, died richer than they are willing to admit. Crackna- 
boulteen is aJt^^ther in the poSsesuon of the celebrated family of 
|ihe MrCegs^-or, as tbey are called, the Five Sols — the name of 
each being Solomon, which is shortened into SoL There is lame 
Sol, blind So^ long Sol, unoertun Sol, and Sol of the monntun. 
.Tltey are celebrated distillers of poteen whiskey, but ara not rich. 
The estate, in fact, would be better without them, were it not for 
4beir votes. The towoland of Ballyweltem is prinoipalfy the property 
<of a wild faction, named M'ffippeen, whose great de%ht is to keep 
up perpetual feud against an opposite faction of the {ySquads, who 
on tb^ part are every whit as eager for the fray as their eneauea. 
These people are also poor enough, and in an election are not to be 
depend on. . I should say, in addition to this, that several renewal 
fines will fall iii during the eonree of the wintn. I shall, however,, 
examine tlie leaae^ and other documenti^ still more searching^, and 
•ee what can be got out of tliem. and bow far we can go. 


fUB I&ISH AtiENT. 69 

** Tb« Tulijgrindem wtate is, I am (orry to say, in a Btill mora 
diflbewteiiinK condition. There is a very bitter and -knowing fBmil^ 
living oa the townlNid of Beleeven, naaied IlFLouf^hUn, who have 
OMitiiT(4 to .spread daugerouB and destructire priiiciplee unonj; the 
uatmatij. Tbey ate cunning, nnAcrapnlons, and vindictive, but cau- 
tious plaotibte, and cloaked irith the deepest hypocrisy. I have been 
sideaToarii^ -foe yean to coneiliatfl, or lather lefbnn tbem, by 
kindnei^ Wt hitherto without effect i whether X ahall ultimately 
■nceood in puril^dng this fountaiu-bead of bigotry and onconBtl- 
tntioaal principle — I do not wish to use a shorter, but a much 
atroager term— I cannot yet say. I shall, at all eventa, fi*oin a. 
MDM of justice to you, my Lord, and of kindness— mistaken tt may 
be, I gr^nt you-^-to them, continue to make the desirable attempt 
Hy amiable friend, Hickman, has certainly been nwde the dupe ot 
their adroitness, but, indeed, ha is too simple and. oreduktoa for this 
world, as every kipd hearted man, with great benevolence bnd little 
judgment, usually is> If I bad not risen honestly and honourably, 
as I trust t may say, through the gradations of office upon this pn>- 
pertf, I think it probable I might myself have been deceived uld 
misled by the natural and seductive tact of Uiis dangerous faipitj. . 
Mr. Hv'Vt"\" espouses their quarrel, not exactly their quairel, hut- 
Qtar canse^ gainst me ; but that is so oompletely in accordance ^ilh . 
his easy Bunj^icity of character, and hia pardonaUe lore of p<4»ularity, 
that it rather endears him to one than otherwise. 

" Tnd<*wi, I may sayt my Lord, candidly and coDfldentially, that 
there is a spirit abroad upon your estates, which requires to he 
vigilantly watched, and checked with all due and reasonable promp- . 
tilnde ; I aDude jmncipally to these M'Loagblins. and, when I stue 
fiat my excellent and weD-dispoeed friend, is absolutely popular-, 
among your tenantry, even although be made them pay up to tho 
very last gale, and that I am by no means in good odour with them, 
you will not be anrprised when I furnish yonr Lordship with a key 
to this same state of feeling which exists so generally in this countiy. 
Th^ then, my Lord, is the secret ;— whenever an Irish agent devotes 
himself honestly to the wants, wishes, and interests of bis employer, 
eepecially if he be needy and pressed for money, so sure- will ha . 
Kecome unpopular with the tenantry. Now, I am somewhat unpo- 
polar with the tenantry, and my amiable friend Hickman is beloved 
bj them t but Z think your Lordship by this time underalanda the 
why and the wherefore on both aides. As your agent, my Lord, I 
should regret such popularity; at the game time, I think the intentions 



of poor, BwMt, MBiabla Hfatknuuk'a heut, an nwh u m aaat dl 
lore ind ftdatiro. 

"Witb respect, my Lord, to tba mtnafMtnra of ihs 'ForttM^' aa a 
oertain oaoical olaasof &eeholdanar« temad, leonld han eaailj 
nndertatan to douUe tha nmnber 70a nMndon, on tbo most vouait- 
aUa tomu, wen it not fiar tfae ditcoangliig gyBtem adqrted tgr Me. 
priffcnu^n- As it u^ I Buat Me what cui be done t tntli your JxitA- 
ahip knows that I can take no step dther in tUs or atiy tbbg elw^ 
mtdl my appointBient shall be flaally confirmed. Perbapa yon ate 
not aware ot tha remartaMe document, on tlie subject in qoesticm, 
whieh baa noeatly gone iU rounds in this country. It Is ealled- 

"a BICtirT TO HAKS A WOVtttSEajJtia nXBHOlD.' 

" * Take tlie poorest Irishman yon can get ; be mnat be destltata 
and ignonat, for then be wiD be Blavish i gire him a nod eaUn, bnt 
BO edueatlui t let the former be a bad model of an indBterent pig- 
•ty, and held at thrioe Its ralue. Fnt him to repose on a comfort- 
able bed of damp stmw, with Us own coat and his wif^s petticoat 
for bed-elothes. Pamper him on two half meals of potatoes aad 
point per day— with water otf tihittoK. For clothing— let him have s 
new shirt once eveiy three years — to give him exerdtt and keep bim 
d ea n- ' a hat tmae in ereiy seren, and brogoes whenever he can get 
them. His coat and breeches— lest he might grow too independent— 
unst be wen upon the principle of the Highlander's knife, which, 
although a century in the family, was never change^ except some- 
times the handle and sometimea the blade. Xet his right to vote be 
fomided tqion a freehold property of ux feet square, or as much as 
may be encompassed t^ Ha own shirt j he must have from four to 
tea children, as a proof of his standing In sooie^, all foAioiu^fy 
dressed, and ocmiing at the i&te of one eveiy twelve months. Having 
tiins^ by a liberal system ti feeding and clothing, rendered him 
strong for labour, yon must work him from dark to dark — pay bim 
uxpence a day for tbree quarters of the year, with pennisuon to 
beg or starve for the remainder. When in health task him beyond 
bis strength, and when sick neglect him — for there is nothing so 
beantifnl as kindness in a landlord, and gratitude in a tenant — and 
thus will your virtues become redprocaL He must live under a 
gradation of six landlords, so that whoever defaults, he may snSer-^ 
and he wiH have the advantage of six tyrants instead of one. Tour 
agent is to wheedle, and your bailifi' to bully hun ; the one nuiA 
promise, and the other threaten i but if both fail, you must tiy Ima 
yourself. Should he become intractable under all lias, you moat 


tab porar iuararts. Compliment Um on his wife— piuse and ■!• 
■dra Ids cUUreO-^-plAy upon his Bfibctitm^ and compt him tlmni^ 
hk vtty TBtaes--for that will show that yon lore your coontn and 
her pe^le hetter than tout dwn ictereflta. Place a promiae of Inde- 
pendeoee on one dde itf him, bnt a ruined cottage and exterminaticai 
aa iba other. Whoi aQ hia semplea are thus Yumonnblj overcome, 
aad his oonaolMice skilfidly removed, take him for twen^ minntSB or 
ao ont <tf hlfl rags, put Mm into a voUng snit that he ma; avoid 
aiupicion, bring him np to the poll—steep him in the atrongest 
perjorj, Uieii strip him of bis voting suit, dap him into his rags, 
and having thus fitted him for the perpetration of taj treacbeiy or 
crim^ set him at large onoe more tliat he maj diseendnate yixar own 
prindples upon jonr own property, nnUl 70a may require 1dm again. 
Having fhoa honestly dbchaiged yonr doty to God and yoor ooimti;, 
go cahnly to your pillow, where yoii can rest in the oonsdonsness of 
hariag done all that a virtuow man and true patriot caa do, to pro- 
mote tbfl comfort and independenee of his feDow-creatnreB." 
" I have the honour to be, ftc. Ae. 

"Val M'Chjtcht." 

Lcffd CoSiber to Solomon K'Slime, Ssq^ Attorney -at-Lswi— 


"focloaed is a letter to Hr. M'Clutchy, which I win 
tnoUe ym to forwkrd to hhn ei sooH as yoa cas. It coattdna hie 
s|niiiiiiHwiiil to tha vaeant agency, tt^ether whh dn proper power 
of attonwy, and I hiv« every reason to hope, that n^ property will 
faHjaov* trnder hiA. I did think it no breach of an^ bonoorabte 
prinoipla, to make him advmo^ hj way of compensation, the sum of 
two thovaaad pounds. It is a thhig very ustiaUy dohe, I atn aware, 
and by rood who woold not bear any imputation against their honour. 
Bat I know Bel how it is, his letter has deterred me from taking the 
noMy in (hat Kght. It woidd be eerttdnfy too bad, to allow a person 
«f his UnU and Mittdbig in the world, to teach one of mine a lesson 
te dftHOHoy ti ftding. For this reason, tlun, let hiih advailce the 
BUBsy Ml the Bsn^ tetms of loan i-^-tAof ycm can b^nst between 
yoo. AH I ask is, that yon wiD not loae one moment of unnecessai? 
Am in Meotn|^falnng this business, and remitting the money. Two 
i&oaMod iA a fbrtnight wQl be of more TClae to me than four in a 
iMUt&t owing to the peculiar diflculties ki which I am placed. 

" Cdubbb. 


" P. S— M'Slime, ray tittle aaint, I hope 70a ue u religioni w 
«Ter — but in the meantime aa it is oot nntikely-^but on the contnuy 
very prob&ble— if not fkltegether certain — thmt I shnU be in Iceland 
Bbonld an election take place, I trust you will bav^ the kindnen to 
let me know if therms e'er a pretfy girl in the neighbourhood — that 
wantB a friend and protector — ha, ha, haU— as great a ijnner aa vrvr, 
yon see-^but for that reason you now the more entitled to yonr 
prayers for my oonversion. The greater the .eainl^ the greater the 
wnner now a days—or is it tlie other way ? I forget. 

Lord Cumber to Val U'Clutchy, endoeed in the abore : — 

"J am veiy happy in appointing yon to tbe Important 
aituaUon of my agen^ with all the neoessacy poweit and anthori^ to 
act as may seem best to you for my advantage. The money X will 
take on your own tenna, only I beg that yon will lose no time i> 
remitting it. Z agree witii you in thinking that Mr. Hickman, 
however well meaning, was deflcient in firmness and penetration of 
character, so far «8 the tenants were concerned ; and I would recom- 
mend yon to avoid the errors which you perceived in him. With 
many prindples laid down in yonr letter I agree, but not with alL 
For instance if I understand yon righ^ yon would appear to advocate 
too much indulgence to the tenantry at n^ expense t for what else is 
allowing tliem to nm into arrears? This certainly keepa the money 
out of my pocket, and yon cannot surely expeot me to coanteaanoe 
such a proceeding as that ^^ whilst I say ttus, it is dm to you that I 
consider your ultimate object a correct one. Property loaea a great 
portion of its. valoe, unless the landloid's influence over the peopla 
be as BtKmg aa his ri^t in the soili and for tiiis reasoi^ the duty of 
evei7 landlord is to exercise as powerful a control over the former, 
and get as much out of the latter, aa be can. The landlords, to be 
sure, are of one religion, and tiie people of another [ but so long aa 
we can avail ourselves of the latter for political pnrpoaea, we need 
care but little about their creed. The results in this case are precisely 
the same as if the country were Protestant, and that is as much as 
we want Indeed I questioa, if the whole Irish population were 
Protestant to<morrow, whether the fact would not be against ua. I 
now speak as identi^ring myself with British interesta. Would we 
find them as manageable and as easUy shaped to our porpoeea P 1 
foar not. They would demand education, knowledge, and all tha 


(UneM ot cinl libertgr } ther vonU beoonw independaat, tlMf wgnld 
think for themselvee, Mid ia what prediouaent woold tlutt plmce lu ? 
CiHild WB then woA oat British intereatA, foeter Britudi pntjudicea, 
sod aid British ambition u we do P Cetttinij no^ unleas we had 
the people with db, and without them we an nothing. 

" On the whole, then, so long as we oontanne to maiatiuB oar pro- 
per infloence over theoo, I thmk vithoot doaht, we are mooh safer ai 
we stand. 

" With reelect to the disdiarge of yma doty, jonr own jndgment 
win be a better ginde than mine. Aa I aaid before, avoid Hickman's 
emn ; I fear he waa too eoft, orednioa^ and eaoQ; plajred upon. 
Excesa of feeling, in &e^ ia a bad qualiflolion in an agenL Huma- 
^j is verr ^^ "> '** P''^" i but a rtrong aenae of duty ia wortli a 
fltODsaDdofit. It Btrikea me, that yon would do well to put ou a manner 
in jour intetoonrae with the tenant!^ aa much opposed to Hickm&n'ii at 
poariUe. Be generally angry, apeak ktttd, swear roundly, and make 
them know their place. To bully end browbeat is not easily done 
with Bueeesa, even in a just cause, although with a broken-apbited 
people it is a good gift; but after all, I ^prebend the best method is 
JDst to adapt your bearing to the gharMter of the person yoo have 
to deal with, if you wish as you Du^t, to arrive at that ascendancy 
of feeling on your part, and subserviency on theirs, which are 
neeessaiy to keep them in pnqter temper for your purposes. 

"TmnTin'iirt ^^ "■■'■;«g^ fi«ty aj«iii«g ftwhnUjn- iw»i«jiii« niany 
exodlent ingredients, but Z do Dot think it was honestly drawn up t 
that isi I believe it to be the inoduodon of stune one who was not 
bimdlj to that system of ftanohise. I have litUe else to say, except 
that 700 will find it neoeeaary I think to be very firm and rigorous. 
Bemember that we are here to-day, and gone to-morrow t w upon 
tbia princii^ keep them moving at a steady paoe. In three words, 
thinfc of jay difficulties, and get all yon can out of them Blilt 
remembering, as we say in the rin^ sever to bain them below their 
strengtli, ibr that would be the loss of our own battle. 


** CnHBCB." 

StAotaaa U'SIime, Esq^, Attomey-at-law, to Lord Cumber : 

"Mr EsTsxisKD Loss, 

" I bad the unmerited honour — Tor, indeed, to a man aensiUe 
of hia many ihultieB aa I am, I feel it ta an unmerited honour— to 
noeive any communicatimi &om one whom the Lord hath exalted t» 



k jhiet of avd high ruk ia thts wotlA, as ifaitt wfaitA yoat tor&htp 
■0 worthilj fill*. It glT«8 me grMt giWificktitm, toy tctfd, to leftAi 
ftom your lut loUof that ym bcVci appcnnted 1117 fKend Iff. Valaa- 
tiAe U'Clutoh/, u yoof agent. I km not in Ae lutlnt ot atMbittbig 
afxdh. droutnstaiuNa u iUe-'^btAng, U they generaQj an, matterti of 
mere worldly pradenok tuA OOttvetiiwiceuto any oTer-nding caoM 
irom above [ Imt trkly, the »i^iiitmeBt tif ench k malt at this 
particiilAr time, looks as if tliere were a prindple of good flt irttfk 
tot jom lordBbip'B InttnM. ISsy yen Wtnitma, ae you do, to 
deserve It I Toar change of agents is, ilideed, (tM that^ through tfte 
talent, ene^, and iotagrity (^ Mf. U'CIoteh^, Is Iftely to ndottdd 
much and lai^j to your owa benefit In his capacity of under 
agent, I have had £raqiient e|^ontltittiee of tiknsacting bnebess With 
bim; and whv I contrast Us qniokneBB, eleafflen, boilee^, isA 
akin, with the etddent want oS — -but nO, my lord ; fiit be h fWiM 
me, as a Christian man, to kistitttte ftay rash einnpalisoti, efthet tn 
farooT of my felkiw-ereature et against him, so long as sKi, asd 
pr^ndiee eren for that whMi is good, aad frail^, may render ns, as 
they often do^ liable to emu. In Hr. MK^atchy it is possible I Uay 
be ■"tf^-fc"' t in Mr. Hiokman it is possible I am mistaken — I am 
not infiJUUfr— I am fraiU^ voir riaOer, but not resiiOTed wboll;, t 
«oald troat, out 6f the range <tf gtaee. Hy Lord, I say agam, that as 
ft consdentioos man, mid ks far as mere bam^ reason^^which is at best 
but short-sighted— enaUee me to Jndge^ I am truly cheered in Spirit 
by this, I trut, providential ohaage In tite agency of jvuT proper ty . 
Uy Lord, in my vorioiu correspondeoee, I gebenlhf endeltvoiir to 
makeitarulaBottoforgetayC^riBtia&dttleBiOtSfttospeak, to east 
a single gtain of the good seed into the bearta of those to whom I 
am privil^ed to write. The oaUs of rel^^on are, indeed) strong 
iqMn nst if we permitted owBdvas to listen to them as We oHf^L 
Will year Lordship then pardon me for reminding y<n^ that hdwever 
hanUa the instnment, I have before now been the honoured meani 
o£ setdng yonr godity examples of diuity before the world, tthh 
the.nngla-he«rt«d purpose and hope, that others might imitate your 
virttiM, There is in the neighbourhood a case at present of groat 
distress, in the person of a widow and her three young children, who 
hare been left deatitote hy the guilt and eonssquent depertaHon of 
her unhappy huabond to Australia, for the crime of felonioiuAy 
obatraetiag live mutton. I defended turn pr^itBrienaDy, or, I should 
aaj — although I do net boast of it — with an eye to the rdief of his 
interesting wife, hut without snccesi ) utd what rendered his cridm 

r^cinzedoy Google 

■dna VBpUdonsU^ he had tht onpanUeled Tickedsew to mj, that 
Im -wu hutigatod to it bf the Ql-^vica and Intemperate habits o( 
tlifa ■""■"■ wanatn. Will yoor Lordship, then, allow me to pttt 
jonr hononred name in the list of her Clulstiui friands ? AIIot 
iiM)| a^ lord, to antiecribe myself, 

" Totir Lordship's (rail, onworth^, 
" but faithflil and honoored Mrrant, 


"F.S-— 'With respect to your Jocose and ironical postscript^ suij 
I ^ain take the Uber^ of throwiBg in a word in season. If your 
Lotdsbqt Gonld so iar assumo a proper Christian seriousness of 
ehancttr, as to reDdeT the aot of kindness and protection tai jonr 
pai^ miA as might confer a competent Independenco apon a female 
oC mli^na dispositions, I doubt not, shoold y onr Lordship's chari^ 
etaitiinie imabated on your atriTal hen, tluU soma soch desirable 
tfffattmatj might o&r, as that of reandng a comely bat desolate 
T PfV^fi fiton '^^"ll1|.as 

" There Is, indeed, a man here, Ufing on yoor Lordship's property, 
named U^Loa^din, who has a danghter endowed with a large portion 
ef thai Tain gift oalled beauty. Her father and fiuntly are people of 
bad princ^Ic^ irithoot eraaotenoe or honesty, and, vitlial, utterly des- 
titute «f rellgiasiii not but that they earry therasdves very plao^l^ to 
ibe vdrid. Among such people, my Lord, it is not possible that this 
eaga^sg damsel, who b Uow ao youthful and innocent, could resist 
Ibe evQ ntflaeace of the prinoi[to that prevul in her &mily. Indeed, 
Iter abiding among than, eanaot be for her wel&re in any sense. 
" I have the honour, ice" 

ValsntiM Ifantchy, Esq., to Sdomon U'SUnK. 
*■ BCt DaAx M'SiiiiE, 

" Aa It is b^ond any doubt that in the Mr discharge of our 
duly, yon and I can be nratoaDy serriceable to each other } and as it 
ia equally evUott that it is onr interest, and what is more, the in- 
terest Of Lord Camber, that we should be so, Z there&re think it 
d^toobaetvcthatln all transactions between ns, each should treat 
lite other witb the most perfect confidence. For this reason, I beg to 
aaniTe yon, meft for all, that in any proceeding that may appear 
banh towards ttnf «f his loidsh^s tenantry, I am, and shall be 
aetoilad hy bo oAer feeling than a strong, eonscientions sense of my 
doty to him. This is^ was, and will be tlie principle of my whole 


SfiL And 70a know vetj well, my dear U'Slime, that if I vera Imb 
dented ta those interests than I am, ray popularity inmld be greater 
unong the tenantry. Indeed, few men hare a right to kiutw tliia 
better than yonrsel^ inaamnch as you stand in premaely ihe same 
helored relation to them that I do. 

" Oar excellent friend Hickmao is a very worthy man and exoeed- 
Ingly well meaning. Don't you think so P Oh, I am sure you do. 
Tet I know not how it happened that he left out of his system of 
agency some of the most valaahle rights and privileges of the tand- 
lord. These I will mention to you when I see you, and when I bare 
mora dme. I consequently must say, that in attempting to renre 
these rights, even while I was deputy-agent, the u^jost odium that ia 
falling upon me already, even while I had scarce time to more in 
them, ought rather to be-^hat is morally speaking — ^risited upon 
him who allowed them to lapse. Now that the fine old leasee of the 
H'Loughlins, and the Haimani^ and others hare dropped, what can 
I do but study Lord Cumber's interest, in the first instauoe P not but 
I wonld serve them if I could, and will, if I can. I bear them no 
in feeling! Bud if they have joined in the calumniee and threats that 
are so unjustly uttered against me, what can I do, and what ought I 
do, but ratum good for evil ? Tou, as a truly religious and pious 
man, will feel deUghted to support me in this principle^ and also to 
ud me in bearing it practically oul^ Any services of a nmilar 
kind that I can honestly and oonsoienUously render yon— .and none 
other wonld you accept — I shall be, <m my [tart, delighted to ofier. 
In the meantime, let me have your excellent advice as to dte most' 
efficient means ot stifling the unreasonable Btnimurs that ara rinag 
ammig the people ; and as touching hlTioughlin's and Hannan'a 
properties, I should be glad to see you, in order to consult upon what 
may or can be done for tliem, always compatibly with Lord Cambcr'a' 

" The pail of turkeys which I send you ara the restdt of my reviv- 
ing one of his lordship's rights. They ara dv^-turkej/t, and I do 
not think they will eat the worse for the bletsing* which Darby 
ODrive tells me accompanied them ; at least I don't find they do. 

" All that I have yet written, however, is only preliminary ; but 
now to bnuness. I have received the letter which Iiotd Camber 
transmitted to me, under your frank, in which I am appcHnl«d his 
Head Agent He also is willing to accept tlie two thousand pounds 
on my own terms; that is, of course, as a loan, at the usual rateof 
interest. But dou't you think, my dear Mr. Slime, that with respect 

r^cinzedoy Google 


to tliis lKrg« sam, an anderstanding might be entered into, or ratber 
BO anuigemeiit mide, in a quiet way, that would, X flatter myself 
tnm out of great ultimata advantage to hia lordship. The truth ii^ 
that Iiord Cumber, like most generous men, is Ter; negligent of his 
own inteTestn, at least much more bo than he ought to be ; snd it 
wonld be most beneficial to Iiim, in every sense, to have a person 
inan«g*"g his estates in the best pMsible condition to serve him. Hi* 
property, in fact, is not repretented in the grand jury patul of thi 
oomnty. 1^ is a great loss to him — a serious loss. In the first 
place, it is wretchedly, shamefully deficient in roads, both public and 
private. In the next place, there are many rents left unpaid through 
the inability of the people, which we could get paid by the making of 
Quae roads, and other county arrangements, which the ill-thinking 
caQ joba. In tita third and Inst place, he has on his proper^ no 
magiMtrate friendly to lus aforesud interests, and who wonld devote 
himaelf to them with suitable energy and zeal. bdeed,'ffith regard 
lo the murmurings and heart-bumings alluded to, I fear that such a 
magistrate will soon become a matter of necessity. There ts a bad 
spirit rising and getting abroad, wherever it came &om; ud yon 
kliow, my dear U'Slime, that it could not proceed from either yon or 
me. You know thai— yon fbel it. Kow, what I would propose is 
this: Lord Cumber baa sufficient interest with the govenOnent t4 
have me — all unworthy as I am — appointed a magistrate. Let the 
government but hint it to the Chancellor, and the thing is done. 1a 
that event, instead at giving him this large sum of money as a loan, 
let it go as a per contra to my appointment to the bench. And therA 
is another consideration, by no means to be overlooked, which is, 
that by this arrangement, the government would be certain to have 
in the commission a man who would prove himself one of the precise 
claas which they stand in need of j that is, a useful thoh, devoted to 
their wishes. 

" Now, my dear M'Slime, I mention this to yon with all the con- 
fidence of unshaken friendship. From yon these representations 
will go to his lordship with a much better grace than they would 
frnn me. Tell him, in yonr own peculiar way, that he shall have 
the two thonsaad far the magistraoy. That is my first object as his 
friend I this onbe obtained, I have no doubt of seeing myself, ere 
Iw^ a ipember of the grand panel, and capable of serving him still 
aiarf extensively. 

" Believe to be, my dear H-Slime, &e. 
"Vaumtihk M'Cldtchx. 


" " P.& — ^I hurd jou once expreu a wish »boat » oertaia fti'iu 
but mam'i the -word — onlj this, I bare Bonistluiig in nj eya for 


SolomoB U'SUme to the Bi^ Ban- I>ord Comber. 

" I, of Gonne, csnnot look opoo the eoodiUoD 700 mb^ 
to the ijipcniibneDt of the agent as nnreannnable, altbongh 107 fnem^ 
U'Qutchj innsti, he saTi, for the hononr of the ariBtacrac7» that H 
was % to^take on tout Lordabip'fl part, wad that a loan tmlj wa« 
neant. Se this aa it mi^, I humbly hope a thought haa been vouch* 
tiafed to me, bj- which the matter xa»j, laiAer Proridenee, ■mubm 
a more f^reeable character for ell partiea. Irfwt nlight, 119 Lord; 
isunediat^ after famil; worahip, I found tajHlf amch refnahed in 
mind, but rather jaded in m; poor anfiil bodjr, after the Attignaa 
of the da; ; for, indeed, I had ridden » good deal auiee monungk 
However, I deeired SoBaima, a piouA jwing peraoB, who aeta aa 
children's aiaii, and onderstanda aj batata, to procare bm a Kttla 
hot water and sugar, into whioli, out of a neoeoearx regard lor hcaKhj 
which is imposed as a dutjr oa w all, I poured a Uttla brandy, partly 
for Bostauunent, and partly to qualify the water. Having nraHowad 
ft little of this^ I found the two prinoiplea combine bother ainuet 
lihe kindred spirits, and I eonaequently experienced both Bonrish- 
ment and edification &(mi the draught- St wu then, my Jjotit tbttt 
it was given me to turn my mind iqKm the trantaetion alltided to, I 
mean the condition of paying two thousand pounds f<w the prlvIlegB 
of iBanapng your property. Indeed, the thing was vonchsaAd to 
me in this light : yonr property, my I'Ord, la not repreeentod in ths 
grand paael of the county, which it eertainfy a serious loss to yon, 
as there is no one hare to advocate your interests, espedally nnoe poor 
Ur. Beaker's infnnities (wonld that they were all only of the bodyl) 
have caused him to attend the grand jmy leas frequently. Many 
arrangements might be advantageously made, by which yonr Lord* 
ship would indirectly ben^t 1 that is, the money, so to ^eak, might 
be made to go into one poake^ in order that it should be transferred 
to yourS' Then you have not a magismte on year estates devoted 
to your epe«at interests, as yoa oi^^ to have ( this Is a very neeea- 
eary thing, my Lord, and to which X hnmbly endeavour to direct 
your attention. Again, my Lord, you have no magistrate of tme 
Fnteatant and Ascendaoi^ prineiplea, who, £rom time to time, mi^t 
It to the govemmeut that jou did not fo^t th^ interests no 

r^cinzeaoy Google 

m iBjsH AoiMT. n 

mm tlwn tqht owq, Nav, mj Z^ord, vlui^ nun etn tw, or ia twtter 
qtnliisd to Bern Tonr Lwdchip in all tiwae cap«dties thta that 
(taveh and nafljncbing Pnte«twt Hr. Val M'Clstol^? In wlut 
indinditBl coold the oommission of tiie p«Me nwra f^propriatolf cr 
wortltilj' nrt ihnn in your own agent ? I therefore b^ your Lord- 
■hip te torn thii in j'onr mind, and if adriBod by one bo bnmbl^ 
I woold snggeat the trial of a abort prayer preTigiu to entering (s if. 
Sbomld yon exert yoor inflaence for tliat purpose with the govem- 
menl^ the gradooB, I tnut I may call it so, appointment wonld be 
inrwHiatftly made, uid I think I know the gratefol disposition c^ 
Mr. ICChitc^ anfldently well to assnre yoor Lordship that from a 
tiwTOD^ Onislian sense ef yanr kindness, the two tluHuand pouada 
wiH-b^ on tiuU eendidon, placed in yonr Lordship^ hands. 

" I hare the honour to be, my Lord, 

" Solomon M'Sukb." 
"P.8. Sb. MfChOiahy ia ignonnt that a anggeation, so well 
•akqlated to adnnee the beat intpvuti not only of your property bnt 
rf religion in general, bos been graoiMdy intimated to one bo nit> 

Iiwd Comber to S(domon li'Slime, Eaq.}*- 

"It if done — 4 barg^n — I hare arranged the bnainesa here with 

the secretary, and X am obliged to yon, my sleek little saint, for 

anggestiiig it ; I wonder H^utchy himself did not think of it. I 

feel gla4 tbe oI4 leasea have dropped, for I am sure that between 

yon and hjm, yon will take ont of these farma all tbat ran be taken. 

Of eonrae, H'CIntchy and you are at liberty to reoeire any tiling yon 

Ek^ proTided it be done properly. What ia it to me who never 

go there ? I do belioT? ^jckman was not merely an easy fellow, but 

a fixd; as to glove-money — leoling-money—dtUy-foiDU — and diUj/- 

? vork — I ten you again* provided yon increase my nmittanoe, and 

' work the cash out of these fellows, yon may insist npon as many «f 

tbem M yov w> get. 


F.S'^What, my Httle saint, did yen mean by that charitable 
blan^ei^ onwenMBg tba widow in yonr last letter P I never knew 
before tliat a woman was a widow merely because her husband was 

r^cinzedoy Google 

M TALEjmm m'cldtcht, 

transported, as he ought to be, for sheep-stealing, or, because be 
happened to livei bj compulsion, in another countcj. However, no 
tnatteri give her, for me, vfaatever 7«a think proper, add -add it to 
your bill of cost« as yon will do. 

" Cdmbkb." 

Solomon M'Slime, Esq., to Lord Cumber :— 
, Mt Gb&ciods Lobt>, 

" As I have nerer intentionally Tuied from trath, I could 
not bear even for a moment to seem to fall into die opposite principle. 
I was certainly reiy bus^ on the day X had the honour and privilege 
of writing to your Lordship, and much distracted both in miad and 
heart, by the woeful backsliding of a member of our congr^ation. 
Oq looking over the copy of the letter, however, I percdve one 
thing that is gratifying to me. Hy Lord I made no mistake. It is not, 
peiiiape, known to your Lordship Uiat there are two descriptions oi 
widow— the fvof and the tw^XoU* J that is, Uie widow by death, and 
the widow by local Bepantkut from her hnsWid. Indeed the latter 
is a dasB that requires as much sostainment and oomfort as tlw 
other — being as they are, more numerons, and suffering all the 
privations of widowhood, poor things, except its reali^. The 
expression, my Lord, ia figurative, and taken Irom the agriooltnral 
occupation of ploughing i for whenever one animal is unyoked fo^ 
any otiier purpose> such as travelling a jootTiey or the like, the other 
is forthwith tamed into some park or gras^ paddock, and indeed 
generally enjoys more comfortable times than if still with the yoke- 
fellow! for which reason the return of the latter is seldom very 
eamestiy desired by the other. I am happy to tell you, my Lor^ 
that some very refreshing revivals in the religious worid have 
recently occurred here, such as, I tmst, will cause true religion to 
spread and be honoured in the land ; bat on the other hand, I fear 
that Satan is at woik among many evil dengning perscma on your 
J^ordship'a inheritance in this our neighbonrliood. Of this, however, 
that good and conacientioua man, Mr. M'CIatchy, will, 1 doubt not, 
give you aU proper information and advice. 
"I bare the lumonr to be^ my Lord, with profinmd homili^. 
« Tour LwdsUi^s snwnthy Bemn^ 

r^cinzedoy Google 


Yolentine U'Clutch^i £«!-> <T- F-* to Lord Comber u- 
" Mt Lord, 

" In point of fact, notblng could be more beneficial to four 
property than m^ very seuonable appointment to the commisaion of 
tbe peace. It haa extended my powers of working for jour advan- 
tage, and armed me with aathoritj that will be found verj necewarj 
in represeing oatrages and diaturbances when thej oconr ; and I 
r^ret to saj, that thej are likelj to occur much too freqaentlj. I 
■hoold be son; to doubt Mr. Hickman's candour, but in spite of all 
my charity, I can scarcely avoid thinking that be did not treat your 
Lordship with that openness of purpose and confidence to which 
ereij landlord is entitled. Of course, I say this with great pain, 
and rather, between ourBelves, as it were i for, heaven forind that a 
■ii^le Byllable should escape either my lungue or pen that might 
injure that gentleman's character. The path of duty, however, is 
often a stem one, as I find it to be on the present occasion. Tbe 
truth, then, is, that I fear Idr. Hickman must have kept the disturbed 
state of your tenantry from your Lordship's knowledge, owing, 
probably, to a reluctance in exposing his own laxity of management. 
Indeed, I wish I could, with a conscientious sense of my duty to your 
Lordship^ end here, so far as he is concerned. But under every 
circumstance, truth, and honesty, and candour will, in tbe long rnn, 
tell for tbemeelTeSb It is an nnquestwnable fact, then, that from 
whatever cause it may proceed, your tenantry and he, ever since my 
appointment, have had much intercourse of — not exactly a publit^— 
ncr can I decidedly term it — a private nature ; and it is equally 
tm^ that in proportion as this intercourae became extended and 
enlarged, so did the dissatisfaction of the people increase, until they 
are now almost ripe for outrage. I have observed, I think, that 
poor Hickman never was remarkable for strength of mind, though not 
destitute of a certain kind of sagacity; and whether his tampering — if it 
be tampering — with these people be the result of a foolish principle of 
envy, or whether, on the other hand, there is anything political in it, 
I really cannot say. All I can do is to state the facts, and leave the 
inference to your Lordship's superior penetration. 

" If, however, it be the fact, that Hickman could stoop to foment 
this unhappy feeling on your property, still, my Lord, he is not 
alone in it. Indeed, it is possible that the intercourse between him 
and them may, after all, be innocent, however suspicious it looks. I 
trust and hope it is so — for there are two other families in the neighs 

..,..,. Google 


bourhood who, to mj certain knowledge have, bj diffueiog wicked 
and dislojal principlea among the tsnsntiy, done incalculable injury. 
I had, indeed, some notion of communicating with gorenmient on 
the subject, but I have not as yet been able to get any infonnaton 
■ufficiently tangible to work on. In the meantime, I think the wisest 
and most prudent steps I could take for your IjOrdship's advantage, 
would be, to get them as quietly aa poasible off the estate. I think, 
from a two-fold sense of duty, I shall be forced to do so. Their 
leases very fortunately have dropped in the fiist place, and, on 
political grounds, it will not be your interest to renew them ; for thej 
hare lately expressed a detominaUon to rote agunst yonr brotbei^— 
and in the next, we can get much larger fines from other sonroes. 
Beddes his large fann, one of these men, M'liOnghlin, holds a 
smaller one of eighteen acres, of which there ate fifteen years yet 
unexpired i but on consulting with Mr. M'Slime, and examining the 
leas^ be is of opinion that it contains a flaw, and can be broken. I 
am snie, my Lord, for yonr sake, I shall be glad of it. 

" I cannot conclude without feeling grateful to heaven for having 
given me such a son as I am blessed with. He is, indeed, qniU 
invaloable to me in managing these refractory people, and were it not 
for his aid and vigour, I could not have been able to send your Lord- 
ship the last remittance. He is truly cealous in your cause, but t 
regrot to say, that I am not likely to be able to avail myself long of 
his services. Ha is about taking a large farm in a difibrent part of 
the country with a view to marriage, a circomstanoe which just now 
occasions me much anxiety of mind, as he will be a aeiions loss to 
both yonr Loidship and me. I am also looking out for an under 
agent, but cannot find one to my satisfaction. Will your Lordship 
be kind enough to acknowledge the remittance of last week ? 
" I have the honour to be^ my Lord, 

" Vai. M-C." 

Lord Cumber to Tal WC^ Esq. :~ 
"DxAs Sib, 

" The check came safely to hand, and seasonaUy, and the 
oftener I receive such communications the bettor. The brat part of 
it, however, is gone to the devil already, for I kM six hmidied on 
Alley Croker at the last Ascot meeting 1 1 writo in a hurry, but bare 
time to dedre yon to keep yonr son, if possible, <m the property. By 
tbe way, as -the under agency is vacant, I request you will let him 


Imtq it mm), it he wasts a farm to nun; on, try and find him ons 
aomewhere on the estate : who h4U a bettor right ? aad, I dare say, 
be wOl iMko as good a tenant as another. As to Hickman, I think 
joa are qnite mistaken ; the truth being, that be resigned, but waa 
not dianuMod the agency, and if he has not a wish to get himaelf 
rcfdaoed — ^which I do not think — I don't see what the deuoe he 
dumld b^;in to plot about. I rather think the cause of complaint 
amcxist the people is, that they find some differenee between hia 
laxity and your rigour ; if so, you must cmly let them growl away, 
and wltenever they reeort to violence, of course punish them. 
" Very truly yoore, 


" F.S.~By all means get those mischievous fellows— I foi^t their 
names— off the property, as I shall have no tenant under me who will 
create disturbance or sow dissension among the people. I thank you 
for the fine hamper of fowl, and have only to say, as above, that 
the oftener, &c, &c 

" Cdhbkb." 



Om of the greateat curses attending absenteeism is the fadli^ with 
which a dishonest and oppressive agent can maintain a system of 
miarepreaentation and falsehood, either to screen hia own delinquency, 
or to destroy the reputation of those whom he hates or fears. An 
absentee landlord has no guarantee beyond the honour and int^rity 
of the man to whom he entrusts the management of his property, 
and consequently he ought to know that his very residence abroad 
presents strong temptations to persons, who, in too many instances, 
an not possessed of any principle strong enough lo compete with 
thefr rapacity or cruelty, Valitine M'Clutchv war one of thow 



fello*B in whom the heart was naturallf bo hard and selfiah, tlial be 
loved both wealth and the infliction of oppreuion, simplj on account 
of the pleasnre which they afforded him. To auch a mant and thej 
formed too numerons a class, the estate of an absentee hutdlord 
presented an appropriate, and generally a safe field for action. The 
great principle of his life wae, in every tranaactjon that oecurredt to 
make the interest of the landlord on one hand, and of the tenant on 
the other, snhserrient to his own. This was their rule, and the 
cunning and adroitness necessary to carry it into practical e^ct, 
were sometimes scarcely deemed worth concealment, so strong was 
their sense of impunity, and their disregard of what seldom took 
place — ^retribution. Indeed, the absence of the landlord gave them 
necessarily, as matters were managed, an unlimited power over the 
people, and gratified that malignant vigilance which ever attends 
upon suspicion and conscious guilt. Many of the tenants, for in- 
stance, when driven to the uttermost depths of distress and misery, 
have been desperate enough to appeal to the head landlords, and 
almost in every case the agent himself was enabled to show them 
their own letters, which the absentee had in the meantime transmitted 
to the identical party whose tyranny hod occasioned them. 

The appointment of Phil to the under agency was felt even more 
strongly than the removal of Mr. Hickman, or Tal's successicm to 
that gentleman ; for there was about honest Tal something which 
the people could not absolutely despise. His talents for business, 
however, prostituted as they were to such infamous purposes, only 
rendered him a greater scourge to the unhappy tenantry over whom 
he was placed. As for Phil, he experienced at their bonds that 
comUned feeling of hatred and contempt with which we look upon 
a man who has every disposition to villany except the ability to 
accomplish its purposes in a masterly manner. 

Yal's promotion to the Bench did not occasion so much surprise as 
might be supposed, b is well known, that every such sconndret, 
however he may disregard the opinions of the people wh(Hn he 
despises, leaves nothing nndone that either meanness or ingenuity 
con acctmiplish to sustain a plausible character with the gentry of 
the neighbourhood. In the times of which we write, the great pass- 
port to popularity among one party was the expression of strong 
political opinions. For this reason, Val, who was too canning to 
neglect any subordinate ^d to his success in life, had created for 
himself a certain description of character, which in a great degree 
eooadoned much of his dishonesty and iq^treesion to be oveiiocdced 



or for^ven. Like hla father, old Deaker, be wbb « furioiu Orange- 
msn, (^ the tme, loyal, and Ascendancj class — drank the glorious^ 
pioos, and immortal memory every day aAer dinner — was, in fact, 
master of an Orange Lodge, and altogether a man of that thorongh, 
stannch, Protestant principle, which was then, as it has been since, 
proBtttated to ibe worst purposes. For this reason, he was looked 
npon by those of his own dass not so much as a heartless and nn- 
•empulons knave, as a good sound Protestant, whose religion and 
loyalty were of the right kidney. In accordance with these prin- 
upke, be tost no time in assuming the character of an active, useful 
man, who considered it the moat important part of his dnty to extend 
hij political opinions by every means in his power, and to discoon- 
tenanoe, in all shapes and under all circomatances, sncb aa were 
t^^MMed to them. For this purpose^ tbeie was only one object left 
nntried and unaccomplished! but time and his undoubted loyalty 
■ooD enabled him to achieve it. Not long after his appointment to 
the agent^, he began to experience some of these nneaey senaationa 
irhich a consdonsnesB of not having deserved well at the hands of 
the petqde will occasion. The man, as we have said, was a coward 
■t heart; bat> like many otbera of the same class, he contrived on 
most occa^ons, to conceal it. He now considered, that it would, at 
■11 events, be a aafe and prudent act on bis part to raise a corps of 
yeomanry, aecuring a commission in it for himself and FhiL In thii 
case be deemed it necessary to be able to lay before government such 
satisfactory proofs, as would ensure the accomplishment of his object 
and at the same time establish his own loyalty and devotion to the 
higher powers. No man possessed the art of combining several 
motives under the simple guise of one act, with greater skill than 
IfClutchy. For instance, be had now an opportunity of removing 
from the estate as many as possible of those whom he could not 
reckon on for political support. Thus would he, in the least suspicious 
manner, and in the very act of loyalty, occasion that quantity of 
disturbance just necessary to corroborate his representations to 
government — free the property from disaffected persona, whose con- 
sciences were proof ugainat both hia threats and promises — and prove 
to the world that Valentine M'Clutcby was the man to suppress 
disturbance, punish offenders, maintain peace, and, in short, exhibit 
precisely that loyal and truly Protestant spirit which the times re- 
quired, and which, in the end, generally contrived to bring its own 
reward along with iu 

One evening about this period, our worthy aacnt was sitting la 


B6 TAumrriNK h'clutchy, 

hia back puloiir, wjoTing with Pliil the oanfbiis ot a warm tombleT 
of pnnch, when the old knock slradj described wm keacd mt the 
baD door. 

" How the devil doee that fasoal oontrire to give such a knock ?* 
8^d Phil — " upon mj honour and rapntation, father, I could know it 
ont of a thouBand." 

" If 8 very difflcnlt to tnj," replied the other ; "hat I agree with 
jou in ita character — and jet, I am convinced that Master Darby bj 
no means entertains the terror of me which he afiects. However, be 
this as it maj, he is invalnaUe for hia attaobment to our inlererte, 
and the trnst which we can repose in him. I intend to make him a 
Serjeant in onr new corps — and talking of tbat, Fhil, yon are not 
aware that I received this morning a letter from Lord Camber, in 
which he thanks me for the hint, and Bays he will do everything ia 
hia power to forward the busineea. I have proposed that he shaO be 
colonel, and that the corpa be named, the Castle Cumber Yeomanry. 
I shal! myself be captain and pay-master, and you shall have a dice 
of something off it, Phil, my boy," 

" I have no objection in lif^" replied Phil, " and let the slice be a 
good one ; only I am rather quakerly as to actual fighting, which 
may God of his infinite mercy prevent !" 

"There will be no fighting, my hero," replied the father, langhing; 
" if there were, Fliil, I would myself rise above all claims for military 
glory; but here there will be nothing but a healthy chase across the 
country after an occasional rebel or whiteboy, or perhaps the seizing 
of a stiQ, and the capture of many a k^ of neat poteen, Pbil — eh ? 
what do you say to that, roj boy ?" 

" I have no objection to that," said Phil, " provided everything ia 
done in an open, manly manner — in broad day-light. These sooundrel 
whiteboys have such devilish good practice at hedge-firing, that 1 
have already made up my mind to decline all warfare tbat won't be 
sanctioned by the sun. I believe in my son! they see better without 
light than with il^ bo that the darkness, which would be a protacUon 
to them, could be none to me." 

At this moment, a tap — such as a thief would give when -escer- 
tuning if the master of the house were asleep, in order that he might 
rob him — came to the door, and, upon being desired to " come in and 
be d d," Darby entered. 

" Toi^ an hour late, you scoundrel," s^d Val { what have yon to 
aay for yonrself ?" 

•• Yea," added Phil, who was a perfect Achillea to every bailiff and 


driver ob the wUte— "what luive yon to wy for youraelf P If I 
■ervfld you right, upoo my honour antt reputatjon, I would kick you 
out. I would, yon ecouudre^ nod I ought." 

"Iknowyouonght,Bquire,fi)rId««V8it; but, any how, bok it 
«M the floods thftt aest me round. The plank wu coTered above 
three feet, aad I had to go round by the bridge. Xhroth his honour' 
there oi^ht to make the Grand Jniy put a bridge acraoa it, and I 
wish to gDodneaa, Square Phil, you would spake to him to get them 
to do it next sammer.'' 

When Solomon said, that all was vanity and vexation of spirit, 
we hope he did not mesa that the two terms were at all synonymous} 
hecanee, if he did, we unquestiooably stand prepared to contest his 
knowledge of human nature, deqtite both his wisdom and experience. 
DHby*B reply was not a long one, but its efiect was powerful. The 
veij notion that Val M'Clntchy coidd, should, might, or ought to 
have such infloenoe over the Grand Jury of the county was-inesis- 
titde with the father ; and that he should live to be aetuoUy called 
oqnire, nay, to hear the word with his own ears, was equally so with 
the son. 

" Come, yon sneaking scoundrel, and take a glass of spirits— the 
night^s seme," said VaL 

** Yv$, you sneaking scoundrel, take a glass of spirits, and well see 
what can be done about the bridge before next winter," added FhiL 

** AH I can say is, ^tlemen," said Darby, that if you both take it 
np^ it wiit be done. In tJie mane time, here's both your healths, 
jour txHioars ; an' may you both be spared on the property, as a pair 
of blewni to the estate 1" Then, running over to Fhil, he wliispered 
in a playhouse voice — " Square Phil, I daren't let his honour hear 
me BOW, bttt-~Jiere'8 black confusion to Hickman^ the desaver I" 

" What is he saying, PhilP What is the curned sneaking scoundrel 

" Why, your bononr," ist«^K»ed Darby, *• I was axin' permission 
jist to add a thrifle to what Tin gem' to drink." 

"What do you mean?" said VaL 

"Jns^ your honour, to drink the glorious, pious, and immorai 
nlmoiy I hi^ hip, hurra 1" 

" And how can yo* drink it, you rascal, and you a papist V asked 
Phil, still highly delighted with Darby's loy^ty. " What would 
your [nests say if they knew of it F" 

" Why," said Darl^, quite unconscious of the testimony he was 
bearing to bis own duplicity, " sure they can forgive me that along 



with my other aoa. But, tnj bow, I bare « great notion to lara 
them and Qteii ralligion altogether." 

" How is that, you aooondrel 7" asked VaL 

" Tea, yon aconndrel — how is that ?" added PhiL 

" Why, throth," replied Darby, " I can't well aocoont for It myself, 
barring it cornea from an enlightened conBcienoe. Hr. H*SIime 
gave me a tract, some time ages called ' Spiritual Food for Babes of 
Grace,' and I thought io my own conadence, after readin' it care- 
fully over, that it applied rery much to My condition." 

** Ah I" said Phil, " what a babe you are I but no matter ; Tm 
glad yon have notions of becoming a good, sound Protestant ; take 
my word, there's nothing like it. A man thalfs a good, sound Pro- 
testant is always a It^al fellow, and, when h^s drank, drinks — to 
hell will) the Pope." 

" Phil, don't be a fool," said big fatber, who Inherited many. If 
not all, of old Deaker's opinions. " If you are about to become a 
Protestant, Darby, that's a very different thing from changing yonr 
religion — ^inasmuch as you must have one to change flrsL HowcTer, 
as yon say, H'Slime's your man, and be guided by him." 

" So I intend. Sir ; and be has been spakin' to me about comin' 
forrid publicly, in regard of an intention he has of writin' a new 
tract consaniin' me, to be called the Converted Bailifl^ or a Compa- 
nion to the Religions Attorney ; and he says, Sir, that hell get ns 
bound up together." 

*' Does he ?" said Val, dryly — " strung np, I suppose, he meana." 

" ThroUi you're honour's right," replied Darby t " but my own 
mimory bn't what it used to be — it was strung np he sud, sura 
enongh, Sir." 

" Very well," said Val ; " but now to business. Phil, my boj, 
yon move off for a little ; Dariiy and I have a small matter to talk 
over, that nobody most hear but ourselves." 

" All right," replied Phil ; •' so take care of yourselves i" and 
accordingly he left the room. 

Now the truth was, that M'Clutchy, who perfectly nnderstood Ibe 
half-witted character of bis son — for be it known that worOiy Phil 
was considered, by those who bad tbe honour of his acquaintance, as 
anything but an oracle — did not feel himself justified in admitting 
the said Phil to fnll confidence in all bis plans and speculations. 

" Ton see now," said he, addressing Darby, sternly — "you see the 
opinion which I entertain <^ your honesty, when I trust yon mors 
thnn I do my son." 

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*• Troth I do, your honour — and by the BUie tolcen did I ever 
betray yon ?" 

"Betray, yon scoundrel I what bad yon to betray?" iidd Vol 
indignantly, ** whaferer I do is for the benefit of the country in 
general, and for Lord Cmnber'B proper^ in particular : you know 

** Know it ! doea^nt the whole world know it, Sir ?" 
"Well then" — said Tal, sonening — "now to business. In the 
firat place, observe my words — listen." 

Darby said nothing, bnt looked at him in the attitude of deep and 
breatblesi attention. 

** Wheneyer yon happen to execute a warrant of distreaa — that is, 
when removing furniture or any other property off the premises, keep 
a sharp look out for any papers or parchments that may happen to 
come in your way. It win do no barm if you should slip them qiuetly 
into your pocket, and bring them to me. I say quietly, because there 
is a spirit abroad among the people that we must watch ; but if tbey 
once BDspected that we were on the look out for these things they 
might baffle ns ; such papers, yon know, can be returned." 

" I see, your hcmour," said Darby, " there yon are right, as, indeed, 
yon always are." 

" Teiy well tlien. Is (he night dark and stormy P" 

" So dark. Sir, that a blind man could see it." 

Val then approached the buliff, looked cautiously about the room — 
tinned the door, and peeped into the hall ; after which he returned, 
and placing about half a doien written papers in his hand, whispered 
something to him with great earnestness and deliberation. Darby 
heard him with profound attention, nodded his head significantly asj 
he spoke, and pieced the point of his right band fore-flnger on th^ 
papers, as if he said, " I see — I understand— rl am to do so and so 
with thete ; it's all clear — bU right, and it shall be done before I 

The conrersation then fell into its original channel, and Phil was 
summoned, in order to receive his instructions touching a ceremony 
which was to take place on the following day hut one ; which cere- 
mony simply oonusted in turning out upon the wide world, without 
house, or home, or sheltor, about twenty'three families,' containing 
among them the young, the aged, the sick, and the dying — but this is 
a scene to which we must beg the reader's more particular attention. 

There stood, facing the west, about two miles from Constitution 
Cottage, an irregular string of cabinsi with here and there something 



that might Ki^woach the camfortaUe air oT a middle sised fitnn henae. 
Ibe soil on which the; stood was an elevated moor, studded with 
rocks and Btnall ouhivatad patchee^ which the hard hand of laboar 
had, with toil and difficohy, won from what might otherwiae be 
called a cold, bleak, desert. The rocks in several insbuices were 
orergrown with onderwood and shraba of difierent deecriptions, 
which were browsed upon b; meagre and hangry looking goaU^ 
(he only description of cattle that the povert; of these pow pec^tle 
allowed them to keep, with the exception of two or three families, 
who were able to indulge in the loxoiy of a cow. In winter it had 
an air of Bhivering desolation, that was enongh to chill the very 
blood even to think of; but in summer, the greenness of the shrobe, 
some of which were aromatic and fragrant, relieved tJlie darii de- 
preasiDg spirit which seemed to brood upon it This little coloaj, 
itotwithstanding the wretchedness of its appearance, was not, how- 
ever, shot out from a share of hnman happiness. The manners oi 
its inhabitants were primeval and simple, and if their enjojiacnta 
were few and limited, so also were their desires. God gave them the 
etmimer breeae to purify their blood, the sim cf heaven to irradiate 
the bleakness of their moantainB, tlie momiDg and the evening 
dressed in all their beau^, the music of thdr mountain streams, 
and that of the feathered songsters, to enliven their souls with its 
melody. The voices of spring, of summer, of autumn, were cheerful 
in their ears ss the Tcdces of friends, and even winter, with aD faia 
wildness and desolation, was not without a grim complacence which 
the; loved. Thej were a poor, harmless little ocnumimi^, so very 
bumble and inoffensive, as to be absolutely beneath the reach <^ 
human resentment or injustice. Alas I tbej were not so. 

The cause of the oppression which was now about to place them 
in its iron grasp, was as simple as it was iniquitous. They refused 
to vote for Lord Cumber's brother, and were independent enough 
to respect the rights of conscience, in defiance of M'Clutchj's de- 
nunciations. They had voted for the gentleman who gave them 
emjdoyment, and who happened beudes, to entertain opinions which 
they ^iroved. U'Clutchy's object was to remove them fnun th« 
property, in order that he might replace them with a more obedient 
and leas conscientions class; for this was his principle of action 
under such circimistances. 

It so hq)pened that there lived among them a man named O^Regai^ 
who, in point of comfort, was at the head of this little community 
He was a quiet and an affectionate individual, indostrioua, sober, and 



eTei7 w^ *ell coodncled. Thii inoffensive and TlrtDou mui, and 
hifl &itltfiil wife, had been for m»m time befue the period we are 
deaoibing under the shadow of deep affliction. Their oeoond child, 
aDd hia little brotber, together with the eldect, who for two or thiee 
]reani befive had been at service in England, were all that hod been 
spared to them — the rest having died young. This seooud boy W8» 
naaed Torla^i and him tbey loved with an excess of tendeniess and 
afleetion that could scu^y be blamed. The hoy was handaome and 
aianly, foil trf feeUng, sad posaessed of great rsMdution and courage ; 
■n this, however, was nltimateljr of no avail in adding ta the span of 
the poor jrouth's life. One day in the beginning of autumn, he over- 
loaded himself with a k^ of fir which be had tbaad in the moors } 
heving laid it down to res^ be broke a blood vessel in attempting to 
raise it to bis ahoulder the second time : he staggered home, related 
the accident as it had occurred, and laid tiiiryn'if down genUj upon 
bis bed. Decline then set in, and the baodsome and high spirited 
Torley (yfiegan laj' padentl; awaiting bis disacrfution, bis languid 
^B dim witb the shadow of its approach. From &o moment it was 
ascertaioed that bis death, early and unexpected, was Lnown to be 
certain, tbe grief of bis parents transcended the bounds of ordinary 
sorrow. It was, indeed, a distressing thing to witness tlieir sufferings, 
and to fed, in tbe innermost chambers of yoar heart, the awful wail 
of their deeolaUon and despair. 

Winter bad now arrived in all its severity, and the very day 
■elected for the removal of these poor people was that which fills, 
or was designed to fill, every Christian heart with hope, charity, 
sfectien {<x our kind, and the innocent enjoyment of that festive 
^irit which gives to the season a charm that throws the memory 
back npoo the sweetest recollections of Ufe — I mean Christmas eve. 
The morning however, was ushered in by storm. There had been 
above a fortnight's snow, acctonpanied by bard frost, and to this was 
added now the force of a piercing wind, and a tremendous down 
ponritig of hard dry drift, aguust which it is at any time almost 
impoesilde even to walk, unkse when supported hj health, youth, and 
oncommoD strengtbu 

Id OMtegaa's boose there was, indeed, the terrible nnioo of a most 
bitter and two-fold misery. The boy was literally dying, and to this 
was added the coascioosnest that M'Clutchy would work his way in 
spite of storm, tempest, and sickiiess, nay, even of death itself. A few 
of the inhabitants of this wild mountain village, whicb, by the way, 
was named Drum Dba, from its black and desolate look, had too 



mnch tlie fear of M<Clutch7 before their eyes, to await his uxMurvt, 
and accordingly souglit out aome other Bhelt«r. It was Bud, however, 
aud generally supposed, bj several of the neighbouring gentry, that 
even M'Clutdij himself woold scarcely dare to take such a step, in 
defiance of ctHnmon htunaoilj, public opinion, and the laws both of 
God and — we were about to add — man, but the word cannot be writ' 
ten. Every at«p he todk was strictly and perfectly legal, and the oon- 
eequencfl was, that he had that strong argument, "I am npported by 
the lawt of the land^ to enable him to trample upon all the principles 
of humanity and justice — to gratify political rancour, persoaal hatred, 
to oppress, persecute and ruin. 

Bemoral, however, in Torley (yitegiin's case, would hate beea 
instant death. Motion or effort of any kind were strictly forlndden, 
as was conversation, except in the calmest and lowest tones, and 
every thing at all approaching to excitement. Still the terror lest 
this inhuman agent might carry his resolution into effect ob such % 
day, and under such circumstance, gave to their pitiable sense of his 
loss a dark and deadly hue of misery, at which the heart actuallj 
sickens. From the hour of nine o'clock on that ominous morning, 
the inhabitants of Drum Dha were passing, despite the storm, from. 
cabin to cabin, discussing the probable events of the day, and asking 
each other if it could be possible that H'Clntehy would turn them 
out nnder such a tempest Nor was this alL The scene indeed was 
one which onght never to be witnessed in any country. Misery in 
all its shapes was there — saflbring in its severest pangs — sickness — 
disease — famine — and death — to all which was to be added bleak, 
houseless, homeless, roofless desolation. Had the season been summer 
they might have slept in the fields, made themselves temp<H«i7 dieds, 
iir carried their sick, and aged, and helpless, to distant places, where 
humanity might aid and relieve them. But no— here were the 
elements of God, as it were, called is by the malignity and wicked- 
ness of man to war against old age, infancy, and disease. 

For a day or two preceding this, poor Torley thought he fdt a 
little better, that is to say, his usual symptoms of Buffering were 
mitigated, as is sometimes the case where human weakness literally 
sinks below the reach of pain itself. Ten o'clock had arrived and he 
had not yet awoke, having only fallen ssleep a little before day break. 
His father went to his bed-side, and looking down saw that he was 
still asleep, with a peaceful smile irradiating his features, as it were 
with a sense of inward happiness and tranquillity. He beckoned to 
his mother who approached the bed, and contemplated him with that 


tearkaa agouj wbich sears tbe heart and brain, nnUl the feeling 
would be gladly exchimgBd for madness. The convereatioD which 
followed was in Irish, a circumstance that aG«M>tmts for its figurative 
itjle and tenderness of expression. 
" What is that smUe," said the father. 

" It's the peace of God,' sud the mother, " shining from an inno- 
cent and happy heart. Oh I Torley, my son, my son V 

" Tea," replied the father, " he is going to meet happy hearts, but 
he will leave none in this house behind hun — even little Brian that he 
loved BO well — but where was there a heart so loTing as his ?" — This, 
we need scarcely obaerre, was all said in whiapers. 

"Ahl" said his mother, "you may well ask — but don't yon re- 
member this day week, when we were taUing of M'Clntchy" — 'I 
hope,* Bays he, 'that if he should come, TU be where no agent can 
torn me out — that is^ in heaven — for I wouldn't wish to liie to see 
yoa-both and little Brian put from the place that we all loved so 
welP — and then he wiped away the tears from his pale cheeks.— 
" Ob ! Torley, my son — my son-T-are yon laving us 1 — laving us for 

The father sat down quietly on a chair, and put his hand upon his 
forehead, as if to keep the upper part of his head from flying off — 
for such he said, were the sensations be felL He then wrung his 
hands until the joints cracked, and gave one short convulsive Bobt 
which no effort of his could repress. The bc^ soon afterwards opened 
his eyes, and fixed them with the same peaceful and aflectionate smile 
upon his parents. 

" Torley," sud his mother, kissing him, " how do yoo ffeel, our 

" Aisier," said he, " but I think weaker — I bad a dream," he con- 
tinued; "I thought I was looking in through a great gate at the 
moat beautiful place that ever was — and X said to myself, what 
counliy can that be, that's so full of light, and mosic, and green 
trees, and beautiful rivers?" 'That is heaven,' said a sweet voice 
beside me, but I could see no one. I looked again, and then I thought 
I saw my three little brothers atandin' inside the gate smilin' — and I 
sud, 'aren't you my brothers that died when yon were young?' 
'Tes,' said they, 'and we are come (o welcome you here.' I then 
was goin' to go in, when I thought I saw my father and little Brian 
mnnin' hand in hand towards the gate, and as I was goin' in, I 
thought they called after me — 'wait, Torley dear, for we will follow 
yon ioon."* 

r^cinzedoy Google 


** And I hope we &U will, onr bI«aKd treaanro ; for when 70a Utc 
lu, sen of oar hnrU, what temiitaticin wilt we bsve to stay afUter 
you ? Yoor voice, aeboni, will be in onr ean, and your sweet Io«Al 
in oar eyes — but that ia all that will be left of yon — and jour fotber 
and I will never have a day's happiness more. Oh, never — iir~^r I" 

" You both know I wonldn't lave you if I conld help it, Imt it's 
the will of Grod that I should go j then when FD be so hapi^'t mat 
it take the edge off your grief. Bring Brian here. He and I were 
. all that was left yon, rince Ned went to England— and now yon will 
have (fflly him. I needn't Ud yon to love him, for I know that yon 
loved both of ns, nay be more than you ought, or more than I de- 
aarvedi bnt not snrefy mere than Brian does. Brian, my darling, 
come and kiss yonr own Toriey that kept yon sleeping every night 
in his bosom, and never was properly happy without you— 4usa mo 
when I ean feel you, for I know that before long, yon will kiss me 
when I can't kiss you — ^Brian, n^ darling life, how loth I am to lave 
yoo, and to lave you all, faUier — to lave you all, mother." 

As he spoke, and pansed &om time to time, the tumult of the storm 
without, and the fuiy with which it swept against the roof, door, and 
windows <^ the honse, made a terrible diapason to the sweet and 
. afiectiag tone of feeling which pervaded the remarks of the dying 
bc^. His father, however, who felt an irrepressible dread of what 
was expected to take place, started at the dose of the last words, and 
with a heut divided between the two terrors, stood in that stupe- 
faction which is only the resting place of misery, where it takea 
heath and strengthens itself for iu greatest trials. He stood with 
(me hand as before, pressed npw his forehead, and pointed with the 
other to the door. The wife, too, paused, for she could not doubt for 
a moment, that dhe heard sounds mingling with those of the storm 
which belonged not to it. It wiu Ckrittmai eve I 

- Slof, Mary," s^d he, the veiy current of his heart stilled — its 
beating pnlsea f men, aa it wer^ bythe terrible qtprehension — ^"8to[^ 
Mary ; you can open the doOT, but in Bach a morning •• this yon 
eonldn't shut it, and the wind and drift would come in and fill the 
house, and be the death of our boy. No, I most open the door 
myaelf, and it will require aU my strength to shut it." 

** X hear it all now," said Toriey, " the cries and the shouting, the 

eereechingaandtbe well, yon need not be afeared ; putpoor Brian 

in with me, for I know there is no Irishman but will respect a death- 
bed, be it landlord or agent — ay, or bayley. Oh, no, father, the hand 
of Qod ia upon ns, and if they respect nothing else, they will surelv 


raspeet lio/. Thtj von't more me^ mother, when tbej ma me j for 
Umt wonid kill me— that would be to morder a dying man." 

The &ther made no reply, btit rtuhed towards the door, which ba 
opooed and doeed after him with more eaae than he had expected. 
The Btmn, in &ct, waa subuding ; the anall, hard drift had oeaaed* 
and it was evideot from the ai^waranee of the sky that thwe waa 
likely to be a change for the better. 

It would, indeed, appear, aa if the Dirine Being aotnally reebained 
and checked the ekmenta, on witneasing the cruel, heartleu, and 
appKmvn pnrpoees of man. But what a acene presented itself to 
(yBegan, on going forth to witness the proceedings which wore then 
abont to take place on this woeful day I 

Entering the iu»lhem end of this wild collectitm of sheelinga waa 
•een a po—e of bailifis, drivers, constables, keepers, and all that hard- 
hearted claw of nifllana that constitute tbe ataff of a land agent npon 
occawma similar to this. Imatediately behind this followed a body of 
Orange yeomanry, dressed in r^imentala, and with flre-arms — each 
man eanying thirty rounds of ball cartridge. We say Orange yeomen 
adneedly, because at the period we apeak of Boman Catholics were 
not admitted into the yeomanry, unless, perhaps one in a corps ) and 
even ont of ten coips, perhaps, you might not find the ten ezc^ttions. 
When we add to this the fact, that every Protestant young man waa 
then an Orangeman, and that a strong relentless feeling of religious 
and political hatred subusted between them and the Catholic party, we 
think that there are few, even among our strongeat Conservatives, if 
any, who woold attempt to defend the inhuman policy of allowing one 
par^ of Iriabmen, ttimolated by the worst passiona, to be let looBe 
thus armed upon defenceless men, whom, besidei^ the|y looked npon 
and treated aa OMmies. 

The men in question, who were known hy the tovbrigvet of 
Deakei^ Dashers, were, in point of &ct, the terror of every one in 
the country who was not an Orangeman, no matter what his creed 
Of conduct might be. They were to a man guided by the tme Tory 
principle, not only of snppcnting Froteetantiam, bot oi putting down 
Fopeiy { and yet, with singular inconsistency, they were seldom or 
never seen within a church door, all their religion conusttng in giving 
violent and offensive toasts, and their loyalty in playing party tnnes, 
iingLDg Orange songs, meeting in Orange lodges, and executing the 
win of some such oppiesaor as M ■Clutchy, who was by no means ai> 
exaggerated specimen of the Orange Tory. 

Deaker'a Daahera were cmnmanded on this oecasion by * l>ttlf. 



aquat flgare, alt bell;', witb a ehort pair of legs at one end, and a littla 
red, fieiy face, tbat looked as if it would explode— at the oUier. The 
figure was monnted on horeebock, and aa it and ita party gallantl/ 
entered this city of cabinR, it clapped its band on ita side, to imprefls 
the enemjr, no doubt, with a due sense of its militaiy character and 
prowess. Behind the whole procession, at a little distuce, Tod» 
M'Clntchjr and H'SUme, graceful Phil having declined the honotir of 
the expedition altc^ether, principal!;, he eaid, in consequence of the 
shortness of the dajs, and the consequent very sudden approach of 
nighL We cannot omit to state, that Darby CyDriTC was full of 
consequence and importance, and led on his followers, with a roll of 
paper containing a list of all those wbo were to be expelled, rolled up 
in his band, soinewbat like a baton of office. Opposed to this display 
stood a crowd of poor shivering wretches, with all the marks of 
pover^ and struggle, and, in many cases, of famine and extreme 
destitution, about them and upon them. Women with tbeir half 
starved children in their arms, many of them without shoes or stock- 
ings — labouring care-woni men, their heads bound up in cotton hand- 
kerchiefs, as intimating illness or recovery from illness — old men bent 
over their staves, some with long white hair streaming to the breezet 
and all widi haggard looks of terror, produced by the well known 
presence among them of Deaker's Dashers. 

And this wot Christtniu «re — a time of joy andfettimty ! 

Other featorea were also presented, which gave to this miserable 
scene a stiQ more depressing character. The voice of lamentation was 
loud, especially from the females both young and old — all of whom, 
with some exceptions, were in tears. Many were rending their hair, 
others clapping their hands in distraction — some were kneeling to 
heaven to implore its protection, and not a few to call down its ven- 
geance upon their oppressors. From many of the men, especially the 
young and healthy, came stifled curses, and smothered determinations 
of deep and fearful vengeance. Brows darkened, eyes gleamed, and 
teeth were gronnd with a spirit that could neither be mistaken nor 
scarcely condemned. M'Clutcby was then sowing the wind; bnt 
whether at t future day to reap the whirlwind, we are not now pre- 
pared (estate. 

At length it was deemed time that the ceremony should commence ; 
and M'Clntchy, armed also with a case of pistols rode np to Darby : — 

" O'Drive, yoa scoundrel,'' he shouted — for he saw his enemy, and 
got courageous, especially since he had a body of bis father's Dashers 
at hit back — " CDriv^ yon scoundrel, do you mean to keep us here 


kll Aaj ? Wfay don't you commence P Wbose ia the flret name oa 
joui list? The ejectment must proceed," he &dded, addresBiDg tbv 
poor people as much as Darby — " it must proceed. Every thing we 
do is by Lord Cumber'a orders, and strictly according to the law of 
the land. Ereiy attempt at refostng to gire up peaceable posseMion, 
nukes yoa liable to be punished g and pauiahed, by h — □, you shall 


** Do not swear, my dear friend," interposed U'SUme ; " swear not 
at all ; bat let thy yea be yea, and thy nay, nay ; for whatsoever is 
more than this oometh of evil. My good friends," he added, ad- 
dreamng himself to the people : "I could not feel justified in losing 
this opportunity to throw in a word in season for yoUr sakes. I need 
scarcely t«ll you that Mr. M'Clutchy, wbose character for beneTolence 
and humanity is perfectly well known — and I Would allude to his 
strong sense of religion, and its practical influence on his conduct, 
were I not afraid of giving rise to a feeling of spiritual pride in the 
heart of any fellow creature, however humble — I need not tell yon, 
I say, that he and I are here as yonr true friends. I, a frail and an- 
wor^y sinner, avow myself as your friend ; at least it ia the most 
anxious and sincere wish of my heart to do good to you ; for I trust 
I can honestly say, that I love my Catholic — I mean my Roman 
Catholic {rienda, and desire to meet them in the bonds of Christ. 
Te^ we are your friends. Tou know it Is true that Grod loveth 
whcon he chasleneth, and that it is always good to pass through the 
furnace of tribnlatioa. What are we, then, but the instruments of 
His chastisement of you, and of bringing you through that furnace 
for yonr own good and for His honour t Be truly grateful, then, for 
this instance of His interposition in your favour. It is only a blessing 
in disguise, my friends — ttrongty disguised, I grant you — ^bnt still a 
blessing. And now, my friends, to prove my own ^cerity — my 
affectionate, and, I trust. Christian interest in your welfare, I say 
unto yon, that if soch among you as lack bread will come to me, 
when thia dispensation in your favour is concluded, I shall give them 
that which will truly nourish them." 

M'Clutchy could not stand this, but went down to the little squat 
Dasher, who joined him in a loud fit of laughter at M'Slime's little 
word in season; so that the poor dismayed people had the bitter 
reflection to add to th^ other conviction^ that their misery, their 
cares, and their sorrows, were made a mockery of by those who 
were actually inflicting them. 

Wheu Darby, on wfao^e face there was a heartless sniiik of satis- 



faotioB >t Aia oj^rtonitj of gratifyiog M'Clubdif, wu aboat to 
enter the first oUn, &KTe arooe from tbe trembling creatures « 
loud murmer of wild and nnrepilated lamentadon, which actoallj 
stirtled the buliSa, who looked u if the; were about to be asaaolted. 
An old man then afiproached M'Cloteh;, bent with sge and in- 
fimiitf, and whose white hair hong far down his ahonlders^ 

" Sir," said be, taking off his hat, and standing before him an- 
oovered, seTere and still bitter as was the da^— "Island here m the 
name c^ these poor creatures jrou see about ua, to beg 700, for tbe sake 
of 6od — of (Arist who re^emed ua — md of the Sofy Spirit that 
gives kindness and chari^ to tbe heart— not on this blake hiU, 
andher uch a s^, and on sich a day, to turn us out of the onlj 
shelter we bave on earth I There's people here that will die if 
they're brought outside the door. We did not, at laist the most 
part of all yon see before you, tlunk yon had any thought of honldin' 
good your threat in sich a time of oowld, and etornii and disolation. 
I..eok at us, air, then, and hare pi^ on ns 1 Make it your own case, 
if yoH can, and maybe that will bring our diatitution nearer yon^ 
and besides, sir, tJiere's a great numbw of us tliat thought betther 
about TOtin' with yon, and sorely you won't think of pnttin' them 

"If a too late bow," said IC'CIutchyi "if yon had promised me 
your votes in time, it was not mj intention to have disturl)ed you— 
at present I am aoting altogether tiy Lord Cumber's orders, who 
desires that every one refusing to Tot« for him shall be made an 
example of^ and removed from the property — CDrive, you scoundrel, 
do your duty." 

At this moment there rushed forth from the again agitated crowd 
an old woman, whose grueiJed locks had escaped firom under her 
dowd -c^ and were blown in conf&sion about her head. She wore 
a ^vifsset gown that had once been ye&ow, and a deep blue petti- 
coat of the same stuff; a circumstance which, joined to the excite- 
ment, gave to her appearance a good deal of pictnresque elfecL 

" Low-bom tyrant," she shontedi kneeling rapidly down and 
holding up her clasped hands, but not in snpplicidion — "low-bom 
tyrant," she shouted, "stop; — spawn of blasi4>emin' Deaker, stop — 
bastard of tbe notorious Eate Clank, hould your handl Ton see 
we know you and yours welL Ton wei« a bad son to a bad mother, 
and the curse of Ood will pursue you and yours, for that and your 
other villanies. Gro back and hould your hand, I say — and don't 
dare to bring the vengeance of God upon yon, for the plot (^ bell 


joit »ro sboBt to work out this day. Go back I aaj. Be wmed. 
Look, about ^ on here, Bqd tbiak c^ wli«t yon're going to do. Hats 
jon n« feeling for ovli vpi bel[desB age — for the weakneu of 
women — the innocence of childre? Are yon not afinid on such a 
day to come near the bed (£ rickneas, or the bed of death, with 
such as intentioo ? Here's widows and orphana, the nek and tfaa 
djia', onU age half dcadi aad Infancy half starred ; aat is It apon 
tbese thai yon and blosphemin' Deakor'a bloody Dasben aae goin' ta 
work your wi)l I Honld yoiu- band, I say, or it you don't, aWum^ 
I ■•ed'nt carae you wyaelf, fw I aju too meked for tbat~»yet ia 
the name of all these banmleas aod hdpJess ereatvres be&m jxta, 
I call di*ir coisea on your hoa^l In the name of aU dw «ai«, and 
pain, and sorrow, and starvation, and affliftioBf tbai'a now heSat^ 
your eyes, be you cursed in soul and body— 4b uU y«« toaA — in 
all yon loT&T-^Qoraed here, and corwd bepeafter for ever, if you 
proceed in your wicked intentioa tbjs woefp} dayl" 

" Who is that mad-woma* P* said Jyi'ClMtcby. " Let her be »e- 
mored. All I can say ia, that she has taken a very uosucceasCiiI 
method of staying the proceedings." 

" Wli» am i," said she, " I will tell you Mwt. Look at this," tbt 
nepUcd, exposing her boMia( "these are ^» breasts that auokled 
you — between them did yon often lie, you ungrateful viper 1 Ye^ 
yoa may stare. It's many a long yeu unoe ^e name of Eate 
Clank reached your ears, and now jthat yon haive beard it^ it is not 
to Mess you. Well yon remember frl^en yoa faeard it lasti on the 
day you banted your it^ ait ^^e, ead threatened to have nut borsfr 
whipped — ay, to horsS'Wh^ JM with your own bands, shonld I evar 
joome near yovir cursed bouse. Now, you kaow who I am, and 
now I have kept my wordT— wluch was, never to die till I gam 
yen a abamed face. Kat« .Clanl^ yqar mother, jp hettxe jvaV 

IPClutcby took the matter very coolly cwb|uii^:rrl#njpb«d at bei, 
•nd in « voice of tbonder desired the qeotmettts Hq i)ix>Q9ed> 

But bow shall we dwelt upon ibi^ miseDaUe woi^? The trail' 
ings and a^n^ma^ the a<tU(JMians £ga- merey, their prayers, their 
imprecations and pramiaeB, were all at^nly disrQgaided ; aod «b 
went the jusUoe of law, accompaoi^ 'by tbe tomult of susesy. The 
old were dragged oat — the bedrid grandmother had her eoaoh of 
straw taken i>cim undw her. From the honae of ifit&, the corpse 
e£ an aged female was carried out amidst the shrieks and inpreoa- 
tiona of both men aai women 1 The sick oblld diat dung with 
faintmess to the bosom of its dis^wsted mother, was pot out Dsdm 



the Meeting blast of the north ; and on, on, onward, from house to 
boose, went the stepa of law, accompanied atill \y the increasing 
tomult of misery. T^it tmu upon Chritfmas eve — a day ofjcy and 

At length the; reached CR^an's, and it \& not oar intention to 
describe the occnrrence at koj length. It conld not be done. 
CVRegan clasped his hands i so did his wife. They knelt, they 
wept, they sapplicated. Thej stated the natnre of fais malady^ 
decline — Jrom haring mptnred a blood-vessel. They ran to 
IfClntdiy, to M'SIime, to the squat figure on horseback. They 
prayed to Darby, add especially eotreated a niSan follower who 
had been remarkable for, and wanton in, hia inhnmanity, bat with 
no effect. Darl^ shook his head. 
" It couldn't be done," said he. 

"No," replied the other, whose name was Grimes, "we can't 
make any difier between one and another — so out he goes." 

'"Father," observed the meek boy, "let them. I will only be the 
sooner in heaven." 

He was placed sitting np in bed by the tiailiffs, trembling in the 
cold nieh of the blast ; but the moment his father saw their pol- 
luted and sacrilegioDs hands npon him, he rushed forward occom* 
pamed by his mother. 

" Stsy," said ke, in a loud, hoarse voice ; " since you will have 
him out, let our hands, not yours, be upon him." 

The ruffian told him they could not stand there all day, and 
without any further respect for their feelings, they rudely wrapped 
the bed-clotheB about him, and carrying him out, he was placed 
upon a chair before the door. His parents were immediately beside 
tdm, and took him now into their own care; bnt it was too lat^— 
he smiled as be looked into their faces, then looked at his litUe 
brother, and givins one long-drawn sigh, he passed, without pain 
or sufferings saving a slight shudder, into happiness. CBegao, 
when he saw fhat his noble and beloved boy was gone, surrendeied 
him into the keying of fais wife and otlier friends, who prevented 
his body fran Hailing off tlie chair. He then bent lus eye sternly 
upon the gronp of buli^ especially npon tiie rude mflSan, Grimes, 
whose conduct was so atrodons. 

"Now listen," said he, kneeling down beside his dead son — 
"listen all of you that has wrought this murder of my dying boy! 
He is yet warm," he added, grinding tds teeHi, and looking up to 
heaven, «and here bedde him, I pr^ that tbe gates of mer^ may 

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be ciotKA upon mj soul through all eternitj, if 1 die without no* 
geanoe for your death, mj son t" 

Hia mother, who was now in a state between Btnpor and dit* 
tractioii, exclaimed — 

"To be sure, darling and Fll assist jon, and so wiU Torlej." 

^Ite death of this boy, under circumstances of such incredible 
crueltj, occasioned even M'Clntchy to relax something of his original 
intentions. He persisted, howeTer, in accom|4ishing all the eject- 
ments without exception ; but, when this was over, he allowed them 
to re-occnp7 their miserable cabins, until the weather should get 
milder, and ""''I such of them as could, might be able to procure 
some other shelter for theioselTea and families. 

When alt was over, M'Slime, who had brought with him a sheaf 
of tracts tar Umi spiritual sustenance, saw, &om the deeply tragio 
character of the proceedings, that he might spare himself the trouble 
of oucb Christian sjmpathj as he wished to manifest for their salva- 
tion. He and M'Clutchj, to whom, bj the way, he presented the 
truly spiritual sustenance of some good brandy ont of a flask, with 
which he balanced the tracts in his other pocket, then took their way 
in the very centre of the Dashers, leaving behind them all those 
■onowB of life, for which, however, they might well be glad to 
exchange their consciences and their wealth. 
Tbe drcamslanoes which we have just described, were too striking 
not to excite consideraUe indignation among all reasonable minds at 
the time. An account of that day's proceedings got into the papers, 
but was so promptly and fully contradicted by tbe united testimony 
of M'CIutchy and M'Slime, that the matter was made to appear very 
highly complimentary to the benevolence and hnmauity of both. 
" So far from the proceedings in question," the contradiction went 
OD to say, " being marked by the wanton crnel^ and inhuman)^ 
imputed to them, th^ were, on the contrary, as remarkable for the 
kindnesB and forbearance evinced by Uessrs. M'CIutchy and M'Slime. 
The whole thing was a mere l^al form, conducted in a most benevo- 
lent and Christian spirit. The people were all restored to their 
tenements the moment the business of tbe day was concluded, and 
we cannot readily foi^t the admirable advice and exhortation 
offered to them, and so appropriately offered, by Solomon M'Slime, 
Esq., the truly Christian and benevolent law agent of the property 
in question." 

By these proceedings, hoivever, M'CIutchy had gained liis poin^ 
which was, under the guise of a zealous course of public duty, to 


102 viLMTilre m'cldtcht, 

vnata a basis od which to ground his prirata npnsentationB of tlw 
state of the country to goTemment. He aceohUngly loot no time hi 
eOTuaimioatmg on the SQbjeot 'vrith Lord Cutnberj who at onca 
eapported him in the project of ndsiog a body of Cavali; for tbe 
better seearity of the public peace ; as, indeed, it WKs hia ifitAfest to 
do, ioasmiicli, aa it advanced big own imtwrtahce 111 the ey6 <rf 
gorenunnit quite aa much aa it did M'Cldtehy*B. A strong cue wa^ 
therafore, mide out by the plausible Inttigaer. In a few da;a after 
the a&ir of Dmm Dhu, honest Yal pontrived to Ndeive secret 
information of the existence of certain illegal papefs which cle&rly 
showed that there existed a wide and still spreading consfiiMcy in 
the country. As yel> he sUd, be oonld not gtonnd any proceeding 
of a definite cl^aracter upon tJiem. 

" Tbe information," he proceeded to say, wh«D writing to the CaStle, 
" which oame to htm anonymously, was to the efieet that by secretly 
Marching the eves of certain houses speeified in the communication 
received, be would find docqments^ cleariy corroborating tbe exis- 
tence and dedgD of tbe conspiracy just alliided to. T^i^t ^ ^^"^ 
accordingly done so) and) tq his utter lurpriae, found that his 
anonymous informant was right. He be^ed to enclose copies of iho 
papers, together with the names of the famitiea residing in the houses . 
where they were found. He did not like, indeed, to be called a 
" Conspiracy hunter," as no mtik mote deprecated their existence ; 
bat he was iio devotedly attached to tbe Interests of his revered 
Borertign, and thoae of hi6 government, Uiat no matter at *hat risk 
d^ier of person or reputation, he wonld never shrink from avowing 
or maniftsting that attachment to them. And he had the honour to 
be, his very obedleAt servant, 

TAUKTnix U'ClIttcht, 3JP. 

F.S. — He begged to enclose for his perusal a letter from his warm 
ftiend, Lord Cumbef, on the necessity, as he properly terms it, of 
getting up a corps of cavalry, which is, indeed, a second thought, as 
tliey trould be much better adapted, upon long pursuits, and under 
presring circumstances, for ecowering the conntty, now so dreadfully 
disturbed. Add has once more the honour to be, 

Vai- M'C. 

Bepresentations like these, aided by that most foolish and besotted 
tendency, which so mai^ of the ignorant and uneducated peasantry 
have of entering into such associations, did not fail in working out 
M'Clotchy's designs. Most of those in whose houses these papers 
wtre placed, fled the countrv, among whom was O'Began, wBosd 


dying Mn De&ker's Dashera treated with such indefensible borbuitj ; 
■nd what miide every thing appear to fall in with hia good fortune, 
it wu loacb about this period that Grimes, the unfeeling msn whom 
O'Begsn appeared to have in his eye when be uttered such an awful 
▼ow of reugeance, was found murdered not iar from his own hoose, 
with ft slip of paper pinned to bis oo»t, on which were iH^tten, in a 
diiguised hand, the word*— r" Bemeioher CfBegan's son, and let 
tyrant* tfemUe." 

Many strong circumstances appeared to bring this murder hom« to 
Oilman. From the day of his son's death, until the illegal papers 
w«re fonnd in the «Te of his house, he had never rested one aumenl. 
His whole soul seemed darUy to brood over that distreaeiBg event, 
and to h*ve undergone a cbuige as it wen from good to evil. Hit 
brow lowered, bis cbeek got gaunt fm^ haggard, and liis eye hollow 
and w<dfiah with ferocity. Keither did he make any great seiaret of 
his intention to exeonle vengeance on thoee who hurried bis dying 
child out of life whilst in the very throws of dissolution. He was 
never known, howevar, to name any nunss, nor t^ mark out any 
particular individual for revenge. Bis danunciations were general, 
but fearful in their import The oitcemty, too, of deserting his wife 
and child sealed his ruin, which was not bard to do, as the man wfs 
at best but poor, or merely able as it is termed, to livti from band to 
moQth. His flight, therefon^ and all the uicumstAnass of the case 
considered, it is not strange that he was the objoct of general 
suspicion, and that the officers of justioe were sharply on tJie look 
oat for a due to biia. 

In this position matters were, when the Cnstle Cumber corps of 
cavaby made their appearance under all the glitter of new arms, 
boosing and uniforms, with Yalaatina H'Clutchy as tbalr captain 
sod pay-master, and graceful Phil as lieutenant. Upon what slight 
eircomstancee do great events often turn. Because Phil had an 
ungainly twist in his legs, or in other words, because he was knock- 
kneed, and could not appear to (dvantage as au infantry oScar, was 
the character of tiie coi^ changed from foot to cavalry, ao that Phil 
and Handsome Harry had an opportunity of exhibiting Uieir poinu 
togetbor. A year kiad now elapsed, and the same wintry month of 
December had again returned, and yet no search had been saciieBsrul 
in finding any trace of O'Began ) but if our readers will be so good 
as to accompany us to another scene, they will have an t^poiiunity 
ot learning at least the character which M'Clntchy's new coqw had 
wtm in the coontry, 

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It is the cbill and ghutly dawn of a severe winter moming; tiie 
gray, cheerlesa opening of day borrows its faint light onlj for tho 
pnrpoee of enabling 70a to see tiiat the conntiy abont yon is partiaOj 
covered with snow, and that the angry sky is loaded with storm. 
The rising son, lilte some poverty-stricken invalid, driven, as it were, 
iy necesn^, to the occupation of the day, seema scarcely able to liae, 
and doea so with a sickly and relnctant aspect Abroad, there is no 
voice of joy or Undness — no cheerful murmur with which the heart 
can a^pathize— all the waim and exhilarating harmonies that breathe 
from nature in her mora genial moods are silenL A black, freeang 
spirit darkens the very light of day, and throws its dismal shadow 
upon every thing about us, wiiilst the only sounds that fall upon the 
ear, are the roaring of the bitter winds among the naked ti«e8, or the 
hoarse voice of the half-frozen river, rising and falling — ^now near, 
and now far away in the distance. 

On such a moming as this, it was, and at such an hour, that a 
pale-faced, thin woman, with all the melancholy evidences of deetitntioa 
and sorrow about her, knocked at the door of her parish priest, the 
Bev. Francis Roche. The very knock she gave, had in it a character 
of respectful but eager haste. Her appearance, to<H was miserable ; 
and as she stood in the cold wintry twilight, it would have satisfied 
any one that deep affliction and wasting poverty were both at her 
humble hearth. She bad on neither shoe nor stocking, and the 
consequence was, that the sharp and jagged snrbce of the froTen 
ground, rendered severer by the impatient speed of her journey, had 
cut her feet in such a manner that the blood flowed from them in 
several places. Cloak or bonnet she had none; but instead of the 
fomer her humble gown was turned over her shoulders, and in place 
of the latter she wore a thin kerchief, drawn ronnd her head, and 
held under her chin with one hand, as the lower clasees of IrishwomeD 
often do in short and hasty journeys. Ber journey, however, though 


bas^ 111 tliia instance, wns hy no means eliortj and it was e&s^ to 
perccare by her distracted maimer and stifled aobs, that bonever 
poorly protected against the bitter elements, she had a grief within 
which rendered her insensible to th^ Hverity. 

It was also apparent, tba^ thongh Lomble in life, she pOBsessed, 
like tbousandaitfbercoaDtrTwomeD, a mind of sufficient compass and 
atrength to comprehend, when adequately moved, the united working 
of more than one principle at the same moment. We have said it 
was evident that she was under the influence of deep sorrow, but this 
was not all — a second glance might disclose the exiiibition of a atlO 
higher principle. The woman was at prayer, and it was easy to 
perceive by the beads which she held in her ferrently-clasped hand^ 
by the occauonal knocking of ber breas^ and the earnest took of 
supplication to heaven, that her soul poured forth ita aspirations in 
the deep-felt and anxious spirit of that religion which affliction is 
found so often to kindle in the peasantfs heart. She hod only knocked 
a second time when the door was opened, and having folded up her 
beads, she pat them into her bosom, and entering the priests house, 
immediately found herself in the kitchen. In a moment, a middle- 
aged woman, with a rosh-Ught in her hand, stirred up the greeshough, 
and raking the live torf out of it, she threw on a dozen well-dried 
peats out of the chimney'Conter, and soon had a comfortable and 
Uaiing fire, at which the afflicted creature, having first intimated her 
wish that bis reverence should accompany ber home, was desired to 
tit nntil be should be ready to set out. 

" ^Vby, then," exclaimed the good-natored woman, "but yon had 
a bitther tramp of it this cowld and cattin' momin' — and a cowld and 
enttin' momin' it is — for sure didn't I feel as if the very nose was 
whipt ofi" rf me when I only wint to open the door for you. Sit near 
the fir^ achora, and warm yourself — ^throth myself feels like a sieve, 
the way the cowld's goin' through mej wt over, achora, sit over, and 
get some heat into you." 

"Thank you," said the woman, "but you know it's not a safe thing 
to go near the fire when one is froaen or very cowld — 'twould only 
make me worse when I go oat again, besides givin* me pain now. 

"Och, throth you're right, I forgot that — bnt you surely didnt 
crane far, if one's to judge by your dressi though, God knows, far or 
near, yon have the light coverin' an yon for such a mornin' as this is, 
the Lord be praisedl" 

" I came betther than three miles," replied the woman> 

» Than what?" 

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« Than three milee." 

" Saver above, is it posailtic ! without cloak or bonnet, ahoe or 

Btot^in' an' yon have jonr aiBiclioa at home, too, poor thing j yrhy 

the Lord look down on yon an' pity yoa, I pray bia bleued name this 
dayl Stop, I muet warm yon a drink of brave new milk, and tha^U 
help to pot the cowld oat of yoor beart~sit ronnd here, from the 
breath of that back door — Tit have it ready for yon In a jifiey; throth 
■will I, an' yonll see UTl warm yon and do you good." 

"God hdp me," exclaimed tlie woman, "FU take the drink, bekase 
I wouldn't rafuse your kind heart; but it's not meat, nor drink, nor 
cowld, nor storm, thal^a thronblia' me — I could bear aQ that, and 
many a time did — bnt then I had Aim / but now who's to comfort 
US— who are we to look to— who is to be oar friend? Oh, in' the 
wide world ; bnt Ood is good 1" said she, checking hersdf from a pious 
apprehension that she was not snffloiently snbmissive to his will, 
"Ood is good; but stUl i^s hard to think of losing bim * 

"Well, yon won't lose him I hope," said the good creature, stirring 
tlie new milk witii a qtoon, and tAsting it to ssoeitain if it was warm 
enough — "Of coorse it's yonr husband you — whitch! itgchi — the 
devU be off you for a skillet, I've a'mosi scalded myself wid yon — it's 
so thin tfaat it has a thing boilin' before you ooold say Jack Robison. 
Here now, achora, try it, an' take care it's not a trifle too hot; it'll 
comfort you, any how." 

It is in a coontry like Ireland, where there is so much of that close 
and wasting poverty which coostitotes absolute misery, that those 
beautiful gnahes of pure and tender hnmanity are to be fonnd, which 
spring in the obscurity of life out of the natural goodness and 
una£fected piety of the Irish heart. It is these virtnes^ nnseen and 
unknown as tliey generally are, except by the humble individuals on 
whom they are exerted, that so often light up by their radiance 
the darkness and destitntion of the cold and bwly cabin, and that 
give an unconscious sense of cheerfalness under great privations, 
which those who do not know the people, often attribute le other and 
more discreditable causes. 

While the poor woman in question was drinking the warm milk — 
the very beet restorative by the way which she could get, for poverty 
is mostly forced to find out its own humble comforts— Father Roche 
entered the kitchen, buttoned up and prepared for the journey. On 
locking at her he seemed startled by the scantiness of her dress on 
such a morning; and when she rose up at his entrance and dropped 
him a courtscy, exclaiming "God save you, Fallicr!" — at the same 

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tiiae hastily BWallowlng down the remainder of the milk that she 
might not loae a moment — he caat his ejv round tbe kitvheo to see 
whether she had actuallr come in the dress she vole. 

** How for have 70U come this morning, my poor w<»naa ?" he 

" From the aide of the Sliebeen More Monnti^iu, phuse your 

" What^ in your present dreaa I withont shoe or stocking ?" 

" True enongh, Sir j but indeed it was little the cowld, or deet, or 
frost tronbled me." 

** Tea, God help yon, I can believe that too — for I onderstaod the 
canaeofittoowelLbnthaTehope) Katty, what was that yeu gave herP" 

" A moothfol of warm milk, your reverence, to pat tbe cowld out 
«r her hearL' 

"Ah, Katty, I wish we ooold put sorrow and affliction out of it — 
bnt yon did well and right in the mean time ; still you must do 
better, Katty. Lend her yoor cloak— and yenr shoes and stockings 
foos poor thing 1° 

ff fm oU^ged to your rererenee," ehe replied, " but indeed I won't 
fed thp W<uit of them ; as I stud t]Mie*s only one thought that I am 
raflbring ^bpBt— and that is, for your rererence to see my husband 
before hefk^ffta." 

" Te»T-bDt the oonaeqnences oi this cold and latler journey utay 
All upon yea |^t another time— «nd before long too— so be advised bj 
me, and don't refose to take them." 

" ItTs not pisj to do that Sir," she replied, with a faint smile, for 
as she spoke, lus servant had the cloak already about her shoulders, 
"it appears,' she continued " that this kind woman must have her 
will and way in every thing." 

" To be sore I will," said Katty, " eepiahally in every thing that's 
right, any how — come here now, and while his reverence is getting 
his staff and mittens in the room above, I'll help yon on with tbe 
shoes and stockings. How," she added, in one of those touching aud 
irresistible whispers that are prodaoed by kindness aad not by 
seore^, " if any thing happens — as God forbid there should — but if 
any thing doet happen, keep these till after eveiy thing is over. 
Before strangers you know one woiddn't like to appear too bare, if. 
they ooold help it." 

The toDe in which these words were spoken, could not fail in at 
once reaching the poor woman's heart Sbe wept as much from gt». 
titnde, as the gloomy altenuttiTe inytdvcd in Katty's benevolent ofier. 



** God bleas you,' ahe exclaimed, " but I trust in the Almighty, 
there tHay be hope and that thej wont be wanted. Still, bow can I 
hope when I think of the way he's in ? But God is good, bleesed tM 
hia holy name!" 

So laTing, the priest eame down, and tbey both set out on their 
bleak and desolate journey. 

The natnral aspect of the snrroundiDg country was in good keep* 
ing with the wild and stormy character of the morning. Before 
tbem in tbe back ground rose a magoiflcent range of mouDtuna, 
whose snowy peaks were occauonaOy seen far above the dusky 
clouds which drifted rt^idly across their bosoms. The whole land- 
scape, in lact, teemed with « spirit of savage grandenr. Many of the 
glens on each side were deep and precipitous, where rock beetled 
over rock, and ledge projected over ledge, in a manner so fearful, 
that the mind of the q>eetator, excited and rapt into terror by the 
contemplation of tliem, wondered why they did not long ago tomUe 
into the chasm beneath, so slight was their apparent support. Even 
in the mildest seaaons desolation brooded over the lesser hills and 
mountains about them; what then must it not have been at the 
period we are describing? From a hill a little to the right ov^ 
which tbey had to pass, a precipitous headland was visible, agunst 
which the mighty heavings of the ocean could be heard hoarsely 
thundering at a distance, and the giant billows, in periods of ttbana 
and tempest, seen shivering themselves into white foam that rose 
nearly to the summit of their immoveable harries. 

Such was the toilsome country over which our two travellers had 
to pass. 

It was not without difficulty and fatigue that the priest and hia 
Gompnnion wended their way towards one of the moors we have 
mentioned. 1^ snow beat against them with great violence, some- 
times rendering it almost impossible for them lo keep their eyea 
open or to see their proper path across the hilts. The woman, bow- 
ever, trod her way instinctively, and whilst the priest aided her by 
his superior strength, she in return guided him by a clearer sagacity. 
Keither spoke much, for in truth each had enough to do in combating 
the toil and peril of the jonm^, as well as in thinking of the melan- 
choly scene to which they were hastening. Words of cottsolation 
and comfort he did from time to time utter; but he felt that hir 
situation was one of difficulty. To inspire hope where there wa^ 
probably no hope, might he only to deepen her affliction t <uid on the 
other hand, to weigh down a heart already heavy laden by unneoetf-. 


Bsril; adding one glootnj foreboding to lU burtuen, wu not La his 
nature. Such comfort aa be could give without bearing too stronglj 
upon either her hopes or her fears he did give ; and we do not thinlt, 
th&t an ^Kjetk, had he been in his place, coald or ought to have done 

The; had now arrived within half a mile of the moor, when they 
felt thenuelvea overtaken hy a man whoee figure was of a verj 
nngular and startling description, being apparently aa wild and un- 
tamed as the barren waste on which he made Ilia appearance. He 
waa actually two or three inches above the common height, but in 
addition to this fact, and as if not satisfied with it, he wore three 
hatSt one sheathed a little into the other so that they could not 
readily separate, and the under one he kept always fastened to his 
head, in order to prevent the whole pyramid from falling off*. His 
person seemed to gain still greater height from the circumstance of 
his wearing a long surtont that reached to his heels, and which he 
kept constantly buttoned closely about him. His feet were cased in 
a tight pair of leather buskins, for it was one of his singularities that 
he coaM endure neither boot nor shoe, and he always wore a glove of 
some kind on his left hand, but never any on his righL His features 
might be termed regular, even handsome ; and hia eyes were abso- 
lutely brilliant, yet, notwithstanding this, it was impossible to look 
for a moment upon his lout etuembie, without perceiving that that 
spirit which stamps the impress of reason and intellect upon the 
human countenance, was not visible in his. Like a new and well 
proportioned house which had nerer been occupied) everything 
seemed externally regular and perfect, whilst it was evident by its 
still and lonely character, as contrasted with the busy marks of 
on-going life in those around it, that it was void and without an 

Like many others of his unhappy class. Poll Doolin's eon, *'Bay- 
mond-na-hattha,'^ for it waa he, and so had he been nicknamed, in 
eonseqnence of his wearing such a number of hats, had a remarkable 
mixture of humour, simplicify, and canning. He entertained a great 
penchant, or rather a pasuon for eoak-fighting, and on the present 
occasion carried a game one under his arm. Throughout the county 
no man possessed a bird of that species, with whose pedigree he was 
not thoroughly acquainted ; and, truth to tell, he proved himself as 
great a thief as ho was a genealogist among them. Many a time the 

Ba; mond of th« hat*. 



unfortunate foxes frora §aine neigbboaring cover were coned anA 
banned, when, if the fact had been known, the ooly fox that deapoOed 
the rooBt was Bajmond-Da-hattha. One thing, however, was cert^n, 
that antess the cock were thoroughly game he nug^ et^t^ his liher^ 
and ease long enough without molestation from Raymond. We had 
well nigh fingotten to saj that he wore on the right side of hie top- 
moat hat a co^ade of yellow cloth, &om which two or three ribbona 
of a Bcailet colour fluttered down to hia Bhoulder, a bit of vanity which 
added very much to the fantastic nature of hia general costume. 

" Hal Baymond) my good boy," said the priest, "how does it hap- 
fto that yon are so early up this atomy morzting ? would yon not be 
mors comfortable in your bed P" 

" Airiy up," relied Saymond, "aitly npl that's good— to be sura 
you're a priest, but yon don't know erery thing." 

" Why, what am I ignorant of now, R«^oiid ?" 

"Vliy, that I -didn't go to bed yet— eo that it's t^ late, instead ef 
early, I am — d^e beac ? ha, ha, now tab thaL" 

" When, where, and how did yon spend the night then, Saymond ? 
but yoa aeem in a hurry — surely if yoa trot on at this rate we cannat 
keep np wjith yon." The tanUi is, Bsyneof a genenl rate of traveUing 
waa very raind. " Where did you spend the night, Bsymoad ?" oon- 
tinued the priest. 

" Wid a aet o' jolly cocks— ha, ba—^ow make money of that ; d'ye 

** You're a riddle, Raymond; you're a riddle t (im«'s no nader- 
stondiiog yon— whffie did yon get tihe cock P— but I needn't aak ; oS 
course yon stole him." 

" Ttwn why do you ax i£ f<m think so.?" 

" Because you're notoiaout for stealing ooclw— eveiy one knows as 

"No, never steal 'em — fond «* me— come wid me tiismselvea. 
Look." The words were soaroely uttered wbeo he tossed the Iwd 
19 into the air, and certainly, after flying about for a few ysrd^ he 
aBt, and tcMering against the wind towards Saymond, stretched o«t 
hii uBck, as if be wished to be again taken ap by him. 

"I aee," said the priest^ "hot answer m6— where did yon speod 
last -night now V 

" I tonld you," said Bafrntond, " wid da jdly cocks — Bnre I moatly 
TViat Hi an' better company too than most people, for tbey^ fondo^ 
me. IKdn't yon see ? ho, ha !" 

"I believe I understand you now," said Father Roche t "yon'vo 


ilept oeu Bonebodj's hec-roost, and liaTe stolen llie cock~Uo whom 
■re JOB nrrring il ?" 

" Ton wm'l tdl to-moirow— lia, ha, Uien now, Uke a rub too — 

** Foot <srmtaT&," Mid -die priett to his ooapaoiou, " I bib told be ib 
«ffbcti(»ate, and wbere he takes a faney W hw received a kindness, 
Teiy gratefnL" 

TVe pariah where the circatDstaBoes we are deacribing ooentred, 
bavii^ bera that in which BayBOBd waa bom, of oonise the poor 
fool waa familiar to every one in it, as indeed every one in it, young 
and old, w*fl to him. 

Dnring tida abort dialogue between him aad the priest, the femakv 
absorbed in her own heavy aoirow, was observed by Baynumd ooca- 
nonaHy to wipe the tean from her eyes t a alight changt^ a shade of 
apparent ctm^asslon came or er his conntenance, and turning to her, 
he gently laid bis band upon her ehoolder, and said^ in a voice 
different iroBt his flightly and abnqtt HHumer — 

"Don't oej, itaiy, Ju tea company) and good things that were 
brongbt to him — be has indeed, Mary ; so don't be crying now." 

"What do yon mean, poor boy P' asked tbe^woman. "I don't 
nnderetand yon, Raymond.* 

"It is difficult to do that at all times," said Father Soche, "but 
notwithstanding tbe wildneaa of Jus manner, he is seldom without 
meaning. Saymond will you tell me where yon came from now 7" 
be asked. 

"From your hons^" he replied; "I went to fetch you to him t 
but you were bUh gone, and I overtook you-— I could usy do tbaU— 

" Bat what is the company that^s with him, Raymond f asked the 
female, naturally aoziona to nudeietand this part of bis commnni- 
cation. Raymond, however, was jk)w in one of his silent moods, 
and B^iesied not to hear her ; at all events, be did not think it 
worth his while to give her any reply. For a short period he kept 
mnrmuring indislinotly to himself, -or if a word or two became 
audible, it was dear -that his favourite sport of cock-fighting had 
altogether engrossed his attention. 

They had now reached a rongh, dark Icnoll of heath, wbich brought 
tlwm in view of 'the cabin to which they were going, nnd also C4Mn- 
manded on extennve and glorious prospect of the rich and magnificent 
inland cotinliy which lay behind them. The priest and bis now 
abuat exhausted companion, to wh<Kn its sceneiy was familiar 

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w&!ted not t^ look back upon its beauty, or its ricbness. Not so 
Raymoad, who, from the moment they began to aacend th« elevation, 
kept uonatantlj looking back, and straining his eyes in one particular 
direction. At length he started, and, placing his right hand upon 
the priest's shoulder, aud in a suppressed but eager Toio^— 

" Gki on — go on— they're comin'." Then, turning to the femal&— 
" Come," said he ; " come, Mary — ^1*11 help yon." 

" Who is coming ?" she exclaimed, whilst the paleness of death 
and terror settled in her face j " foi: Grod'a mercy, Baymoad, who is 
coming ?" 

"I saw them," said he; "I saw them. Come — come fast — I'll 
help you — don't thrimble — don't thrimble." 

"Let ns be guided by him," said the priest. "Raymond," he 
added, " we cannot go much faster through this marshy heath ; but 
do yon aid Mary as well as you can j as for me, I will try if it be 
possible to quicken my pace." 

He accordingly proceeded in advance of the other two for a little ; 
but it was only for a little. The female — who seemed excited by 
some nncommon terror, and the wild apprehensive manner of her 
companion, into something not unlike the energy of despair — ^rushed 
on, as if she had been only setting ont, or gained snpematoral 
strength. In a few minutes she was beside the priest, whom she 
encouraged, and besonght, and entreated — ay, and in some moments 
of more vehement feeling, absolutely chided, for not keeping pace 
with herself. They had now, however, come within about a hundred 
yards of the cabin, which they soon reached-~the female entering it 
about a minute or two before the others, in order to make those 
humble arrangements about a sick-bed, which, however, pover^ may 
be forced to overlook on ordinary occasions, aro always attended to 
on the approach of the doctor, or the minister of religion. In the 
instance before us, she had barely time to comfort her sick husband, 
by an assurance that the priest had arrived, after which she hastily 
wiped his lips and kissed them, then settled his head more easily ; 
after which she spread out to the beat advantage the poor quilt which 
covered him, and tucked it in about his lowly bed, so as to give it 
something of a more tidy appearance. 

The interior of the cottage, which the priest and Baymond entered 
together, was, when the bitter and inclement nature of the morning, 
and the state of the miserable inmates are considered, enough to make 
any heart possessing humanity shudder. Two or three stools; a 
couple of pots ; a few shelves, supported on pegs driven into the peat 


wftU; 4boat ft bushel of raw poUtoea Ijing !n a corner; '% ssull be&p 
of damp tnrf — for the foreg<ring aiiinmer had been bo mcessaotlj wet 
that the tarf, nnleM when veiy earlj cat, conld not be saved ; a few 
wooden nogginsaod dishes; t<^tlierwithabnndIeofstraw,coreredap 
in K comer with the sick man's coat) whiohi when shaken ont at n^hti 
waa»bed; and these, with the excepti(Hi<rf their own ^mple,domeaUo 
truth and affection, were their only riches. The floor, too, as is not 
nnnaiml in soeh mountain cabins, was nothing bnt the natural peat, 
and ao damp and soft was it, that in wet weather the marks of their 
feet were visibly impressed on it at ever; step. With the exception 
of liberty to go and come, pare air, and the light of the blessed day, 
they might as well have draped out their existence in a subter- 
I keep, belonging to some tyrannical old baron of the feudal 

There was one small apartment in this cabin, bnt what it contained, 
if it did cmtain anything, conld not readily be seen, for the hole, or 
window, which in Bommer admitted the light, was now filled with 
tags to keep ont the cold. From this little room, however, the priest* 
■a he entered, was surprised to see a young man oome forth, 
l^parently much moved by some object which he had seen in it. 

"Mr. Harman," said the priest, a good deal surprised, "who could 
have expected to find yon here?" 

Tltey shook hands as he spoke, each casting his eyee npon this 
woeful scene of misery. "God pity them," gaculated the priest, 
daiqnng his hands and looking upwards, "and suetun theml" 

"I owe it to poor Saymond, here," replied the other, "and I feel 
oUiged to him; but," said he, taking Father Roche over to the door, 
"here will be a double death — father and son." 

"Father and son, how is that? — she mentioned nothing of the son.'' 

"It is very possible)" said Harman, "that they are not conscious 
tX his danger. I fear, however, that the poor child has not many 
bonra to live." 

AH that we have jost described occurred in three minutes; but 
short as was the time, the wi&'s impatience to have the rights of the 
church administered, could scarcely be restrained; nor was poor 
Baynumd's anxiety abont the dying man much less- 

"The/re eomin'," said he, "Mr. Harman, they are comin'; hurry, 
hnny, I know what theyll do." 

"Who are coming^ Raymond?" asked Harmsn. 

"Ohl" Bud the fool, "harry— M'Cliitchy's blood-hounds." 

The wife clapped her hands, shrieked, and falling on her knee» 

lu TiuMTrm M*CLnTcnT, 

ixcl^med in « piercing roioe, "mei^ol Ood, look down oti ■>! Oh, 
Father Boclie, there is not a moment to be loatl" 

The priest uid Hannan agtun exohuiged a meliacholy glanee: 
"you mwst all retire into the little room," said the dei^Tmaa, "until 
I admlnlater to him the last rites." 

nier moem&>gtf withdnw, the woman having first left a lit 
niah-light candle at his bed-eide, as she knev this oeremonj raqoired. 

l%e man's strength was wasting fast, and his voioe ranking i^tidlj ; 
but oil the other hand he was calm and ration^ It droamstonoe wbieb 
relieved the prlest^S mind very Uuch. As is nnial, having p«t a stole 
abont Us neck, he first heard his eonfes^n, ewneetly exltortad him 
to repentance, and soothed and comforted him with all iboab promises 
tmi coneolaliona which are held out to repentant sinnerB. He then 
administered the Extreme Unction ; which being over, the ceremoi^, 
and a solemn one it mnst be considered, was eoMdnded. llie tsiest 
exhorted him with an anxie^ for his salvation which transcended all 
b&rthly and temporal consideretions, prayed with him and Ihr him, 
whilst the tears streamed in torrents down his oheeks. Nor was th« 
Bpirit of his holy mission lost) the penitent man's faoe assumed « 
placid and serene expression! the tight of immortal hope beamed 
upon it; and raising his eyes and his feeble arms to heaven, be 
ottered several qaculations in a tone of vMca too low to he beard. 
At length he ezchumed aloud, "thanks to die Almighty that I did 
not commit ttaa murder as I ^tended! I found it done to my liand; 
but I don't know who did it, as I am to meet my Godl" Ttw words 
were pronounced with difflcnltyt indeed they were scarcely uttered, 
when his arms fell Ufelessly, as it were, 1^ his aide; they were agwn 
suddenly drawn up, however, as if by a eonvulsivie motion, and the 
prieet saw that the agonies of death w«re abttnt to comntenoe; still 
it was easy to perceive that the man wsa collected and ratiouaL 

It was now, however, that a scene took place which coold tlot, we 
imaj^n^ be witaeaood ont of distracted and unhappy Ireland. Ray> 
mond, who appeared to dread die approach of those whom he temed 
M'Clutchy's blood-hounds, no sooner saw that the teligiora rites wen 
concluded, than he ran out to reconnoitre. In a moment, horwcver, 
b« returned, a picture of terror, and dra^ng the woman to the door, 
pointed to a declivity below the house, exclaiming—. 

"See, Hary, see; they're gallopin'." 

The dying man seemed conscious of what was said, finr the groan 
he gave was wild and startfing } his wife dropped on her knees at the 
door, where she could wabA her husband and those iriw appKwcbe^ 


■ad duping her butde, exclaimed, "To your merej, Lord of 
heaven, to jour mercy take him, before he falls into their bands, that 
will show him noHef She then bestowed upon him a look full of 
aa impatient tgpay, whieh no language could describe ; her eyes had 
alreadj become wild aai piercing, her cheek flashed, and her frame 
wihiattd with a spirit that seemed to partake at once of terror, 
inteDBe Latiedi, and something like frem^. 

"Thofars gaU<f)in'l they are galloptn' 1" she said, " and thej will 
find life in him V She then wnmg her hands, but shed not m tear— 
" apeedl, Hugh," she said i " speed, speed, hnsband of n^ heart i the 
Brms of Grod are they not open for yon, and why do you stay?* 
Theae aentiments, we dionld hare inibnned our readers, were uttered, 
:x ndwr chamited in a reeitatiye of sorrow, in IrisI^— Irish being the 
language in which the peasantry who happen to speak both it and 
Kagltsh, always ex[»ess thenuelves when more than usually excited. 
** Hie sacred rH of salration is upon you — the sacrament of peace 
and forgiveness bos lightened your sonl — the breath of mercy is the 
bw aU t your breathiu' — tLe hope of Jesus is in your heart, and the 
Mttt-ee g ion of his bteased mother, she that knew sorrow herself is 
b^ue yoo I llifln, li(^ o£ my heart, the arms of God are they not 
open for you, and why do you stay here ?" 

" Kearer, nearer," die exclaimed, " they are nearer i whippin' and 
qnnrin* their faoraesl Hugh (^Began, tint was the sun of my life, 
and of my heart, and erer without a elond, hasten to the God of 
mercyl Ofa, surely, you will not Uame your own Maiy that was 
your lorin' wife, and Ae treasure of yoor young and manly heart, 
toK widua* to see yon taken fnwa her eyes, and for wishing to see the 
^ea that nerer lotted upon us all but with love and kindness, closed 
on «B for ever. Ohl" said sb^ putting her bands to her forehead, 
"a^ it it — is it oome to thiia, that I that was dearer to bun than bis 
own tife a thousand times, should now be glad to see him die— be 
0ad to see him die I Obi <bey are here," she ehrieked, " before the 
dMv; you may bear their hwses' feet 1 na^O'Eegan,''andher voice 
baeaaae fender and more energetic, "t^e i^te-skinned — the fair of 
tiair, the sbong of hand, and the true of heart ; as you ever loved me 
that was once your happy bride — as you ever loved the religion of our 
holy church— as you hope for happiness and merey, hasten from me — 
from tmr orphan — from all} oh, hast^t to the arms of your Godl" 

During this scene there wss a solemn silence in the house, the 
priest and Harman having botti been struck mute at the solemnity 
rfthe acene. 

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"Thej are here; they are herer she screamed. "Oh. Ban af 
xaj heart, think not noir of me, nor of the chndre of joar love, for 
we will follow yon in time; but think of the happy coontFy you're 
going to — to live in the sunshine of hearen, among Bunts and angels 
tot evert Oh, san of my heart, think, tooy of what yon lave behind 
youl What is it? Ohl what is it to yon but poverty, and misery, 
■nd hardship ; the cowld cabiti and the damp hed ; the frost of tbo 
sky ; the frown of power, and the scoarge of law ; all this, oh, right 
hand of my afibction, with the hard laboor and the scanty food, do 
you fly from! Snre we had no friend in this world to protect or 
defend ns t^tunst them that would trample ob ander their feet I No 
friend for ns, becaose we are poor ; and no friend for onr religion, 
because it is despised. Then hasten, hasten, oh, l%ht of my beart, 
and take refuge in the mercy of your God I" 

" Maiy," esid the priest, who had hia eyes fixed on the sick mtat, 
"giTe God thanks, he is dead, and beyond the reach of human enmity 
for ever." 

She immediately prostrated herself on the floor in token of humility 
and thank^ving ; then TKising her eyes to heaven, she sud, " may 
the heart of the woeful widow be grateful to the Goi who has takea 
him to his mercy before they came upon hun I But here they are, 
and now I am not afraid of them. They can't insult my blessed 
bnsband now, nor murdher him, as his father's villainB did onr dyin' 
son, on the conld Esker of Drum Dbn ; nor disturb him with their 
barbarons torments ontlie bed of deaA; and ^oiy be to God. for that I" 

Many of onr readers may be led to imagine that the terrors oi 
Mary O'B^an were altogether unproportioned to anything that 
might be apprehended from the approadi of ih« offlcera of justice^ or, 
at least, of those who came to execute the law. The state of Irish 
society at that time, however, was very difibrent trota. what it is now, 
or has been for the last thirty years. At that period (me party was 
in the ascendant, and the other directly under their feet t theformer 
was in the possession of irresponsible power, and the other, in omoj 
matters, witbout any tribunal whatAoever to which they conld ^ipeal. 
The Established Chnrch of Ireland was then a sordid corporation, 
whose wealth was parcelled out not only without principle, bat 
without shame, to the English and Irish aristocracy, but principally 
to the English. Church livings were not filled with men remarkable 
for learning and piety, but awarded to poliUcal prostituticoi, and often 
to young rakes of known and unblushing profligacy oonnteted with 
families of rank, llic consequence was, that a gross secnlar Bpiri^ 


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Kptote -mitb political hatred and Telif^oua nnooor, was the onlj 
[Hinclple which existed in the place of true religioB. That word was 
then* except in rare cases indeed, a dead letter g for such was the 
state of Protestant so<»ety then, and for several jears afterwards, that 
it mattered Dot how much or how little a man of that creed knew 
about tlie principles of his own church i and as it was administered, 
the leas be knew 4^ it the better ; all that was necessary to constitute 
a good Protestant was " to bate the Fope." In trutb — for it cannot 
be eooMsealed, and we write it with deep pain and sorrow — the Esta- 
bliahed Church of Ireland was tJien, in, point of fact, little else than 
a mere ptditical engine held hy the Englifih goTcmmant for the pur- 
poee of seeming the adherence of those who were willing to giro 
support to their measures. 

In such a state, of things, then, it need not- be wondered at that,' 
neglected and eeeulaiized as it was at the period we write of, it should, 
produce a class of men whose passions in everything coqn&cted with 
religion and po]itic8 went inttdwant and exclusire. Every Church, no 
matter whaf its creeds unfoi^nnatelji b^a its elect of bu<^ professors. 
Nor were these confined to. the km«r classes alone ; fkr from it. The 
squire and noUemmi were too.A%qiienU; botii alike remarkable for 
the exhibitiqn of rach piuic^ples. Of this class was our friend 
H*CIdIc17, who wv now a justice of peace, a grand jurpr, and a. 
captain of cavalij— rbis oc^ps having^ a little time before, been 
completed. With this potte, as his officers of jiwtice, the pranks be 
played were grievous to think ofi or to remember. He and thej 
were, in fact, die terror of the whole Boman Catholio population; 
aid from dkc spirit ^ which thej executed justice, were seldom 
called b; any 'totbejr name than that of M'Clutchy's.Blood-honnds, 
Dpon the present occasion they were unaccompanied by MfClutch; 
himself — a circmBStt^ce which was not to be regretted, as there was 
little to be expected &om his presence, but additional brutality and 

Oit arriving at t^ door, they hastily dismounted, and rushed into 
'he cabin with their usual violence and impetuosity, ^ch.being anmed 
with a carbine and bayonet, 

"Hallofsaid the leader, whose name was Shorpe; "what'ahere? 
itamming sjckneaa, is it P" 

** No," said Father £oche ; " it is death I" 

"Ay I shamming death, then. Never mind; w^ soon see that. 
Crane, Steele, give him a prod — a gentle one — and I'll engage ifU 
make him find tongue, if anything wilL" 




Steele, to wliaia tUs was addressed, drew bii bft^otiel, and ooflB- 
menced screwing it on, for the pnrpofle of ezecnting his orders, 

"A derllish good trick, too," i^ be; "and tho fiist if ttie kind 
that has been pnctised on ni yet; htire goes" ■■' ■ 

Up to this moment (YBegnn's wift sat beside the deed body of 
her fausbbnd, without either word or tnotloD. A smile of— it might 
be satisfaction, perhaps even J07, at His release, or it might be hatred* 
was on her face, and In her eye ; bnt when the man pointed his 
bayonet at the corpae of her husband, she atartAd to her knees, and 
opening oat her arms, exclaimed— 

'■ Here's tay heart, and throagh that heart your bayonet will go, 
before it toaches his body. Oh, if yoM hare hearts in yonr bodies, 
yon will surely spare the dead t" 

"Here goes, ma'am," tlie fellow repeated, "and you had bMter lavs 
that ; we're not in the habit of being checked by the like of yon, at 
any rate, or any of your creed." 

" X am not afeared to profess my creed, nor ashamed cf it^" rim 
exclaimed 1 " and if it went to that, I would die for it ; but I tell 
yon, that before your bayonet touches ib.^ dead body of my husband, 
it must pass through my heart I" 

" Don't be alarmed, Mary," said the priest t " they surelj caunot 
be serious. It's not possible that any being in the shape of man 
could be gtiDty of such a sacrilegious ontnge upon the dead as they 

" What, is it your business P" said the leader ; go and tare off yoor 
masses, and be hanged; none of your Popish interference here, or 
itil be worse for you I I say the fellow's not dead j he's only scheming. 
Come, AUck, pat the woman aside, and tickle him up." 

" Keep aside, I tell yon," said Steele, again addressing her ; " keep 
aside, my good woman, till I obey my orders, and don't pnmdLa 

Father Boche was again adrancing to remonstrate with him, for 
the man's determination seemed likely to get stronger by opposition, 
when, just as the bayonet, wliich had already passed under the 
woman's arm, was within a few inches of (yBegan's body, he &lt 
himself dragged forcibly back, and Baymond-na-battba stood before 
him, having smed both carbine and bayonet with a strong grip. 

** Don't do that," he exclaimed j " don't — you'd hurt him ; sore 
you'd hurt poor Hugh!" 

The touching simplicity of this language, which, to a heart poa> 
•essing the least tincture of humanity, ^ould have had more forca 


ttiaa tbe ttrangwt argument, w« thrawn ntnj upon him to whom it 

*4Fliiig the bluted idiot off," aboiited Sharp? ; "don't jou see h« 
haslet die Mt onto* the bag — how could the nan be hortedif bewM 
dead? I knew it wh a eduune." 

To throw BaTtnond o^ however, was eader Mud thoR done, ai the 
fellow foond on attempting it A ■truggle commenced between the^^ 
wfadt^ though viokst, waa iu>t of l^ng duratioiL BftTmond's eyt 
got turbid, and glared wiUi a ted, fiei; light; but otherwise hia 
eoonplezion did not change. By a Tehement twist, he wrenched thiq 
arms out of Steele's hands, h^^^ng him from him, at the same timet 
with such force, that he fell on ^e floor willi a crash. 

"Now," said he, ptunting the bayonet to bid seek, "would j/ou like 
itP-^ia, ha!— think of thaL" 

Foot carbine* the whole part; consisting of fire — were imme- 
dintel; leveUed at him; and it is not improbable that half a minute 
■Dore wonld hare cloof d both bis existence and his history, had not 
Father Boche and tlw widow both succeeded, with some diSlcultj, 
in drawing him back from the prostrate officer of justice^ Baymond, 
after a little time, gave up the arms; but his eye still blazed at his 
opponent, with a g^are that could not be misunderstood. 

Harman, who had hitherto taken no port whatsoever in the alter- 
CAtio% now interfered ; and with feelings which he found it nearly 
impoBsible to restrain, pointed out to them the wanton cnieltj of 
mch conduct towards both the living and the dead. " I am ashamed 
of 700,' said lie, " as countiymen— «s Irishmen. Your treatment 
of this poor, heart-broken woman, amidst her dest^tioo and sorrow, 
is a disgrace to the country that gave yon birth, and to the religion 
yon profess — if, indeed, you profess any." 

" Come, come, my good fellow, " said Sharpe, " what is it you say 
about my religion ? I tell you Pll allow no man to spake a sjUable 
against my religion t so keep quiet, if you're wise, and don't attack 
tbat, otherwise don't be surprised if I make yon danC4 the devil's 
hornpipe in half a shake— great a hairo as you are." 

"And yet yon felt no scruple in just now insulting religion, in 
tbe person of this reverend gentleman who never ofTeuJed you." 

" Him I why what the hell is he but a priest P" 

"And the more entitled to your respect on t'uui icoount; but 
aince yon are so easily excited in defence of your own creed, why 
■o ready to at Sck in such offensive and insulliag language that of 

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* Come, come, Sharpe," said another of them, " are we to be herr 
all day j whatever we're to do let ne do it at once. If the felbw*! 
dead, why he has had a deviliah good escape of it, and if not, let us 
clap him on a horoe— that is, provided he's able to twveL I think 
mjBelf he hu got the start of us, and that the wind's ont of him." 

" Take yow time, said Steele," who felt ansions to arenge his 
defeat npon some one, "we must know that before ever we lea-re 
the house— and by the great Boyne, the first person that goes be- 
tween me and him will get the contents of this) and as he ottered 
the words, he cooly and deliberately cocked the gun, and was ad- 
vancing, as before, to the dead body. 

<'Hold back," said Barman, in a voice which made the man 
start, whilst, with a firm tread and resolute eye, he stood face to 
face before him; "hold back, and dare not to Tiolate that sacred 
and awful privil^e, which, in every country aod ereed mider 
heaven, b sufficient to"protoct the defenceless dead. What can btt 
your object in this 7 are yon men — have you the spirit, the courage 
of men? If yon are human beings, )e not Hie right of that un- 
happy fellow-creature — I hope he is h^py now.— stretched oot in 
death before yon, sufflcient, by the very stJUness of departed life, to 
calm the brutal fVeniy of your passions P Have yon common 
Donrsge P No { I tell yon to your teeth that none but spiritlefls 
caltifi^ and cowards would, in the presence of death and sorrow — in 
the miserable cabin of the destitute widow and her orphan boy — 
exhibit the ruffianly outrages of men who are wanton Is their 
cpielty, merely because they know there is none to resist them} 
and I may add, because tliey think that their excesses, however 
barbarous, will be shielded by higher authority. No ; I tell yon, 
if there stood man for man before you, even wiUiout arms, in their 
hands, you would not dare to act and swagger as you do, or to play 
these cruel pranks of oppression and tyranny any where, much less 
in the house of death and affliction I Fie upon you ; you are a dis- 
grace to everything that is bmnao — a reproach to every feeling of 
manhood, and every principle of religion." 

Hardened as they were by the habits of their profligate and de- 
baring employment, such was the ascendancy of manly truth and 
moral feeling over them, that for a minute or two they quailed 
under the indignant glance of Hardman. Steele drew back bis gun, 
and looked around on his companions to ascertain their feeling. 

"Gentlemen," sud Father Boche, anxious to mollify them as 
Vuch as he could — " gentlemen, for the sake of that poor, heart- 




ImAeo, widowed womui, uid her miBenble orpium gon — for ber 
turd iaa sake, Mid if not for tbeini, tlien for tiie aaks of God faim- 
Klf, before whose awful jodgment-aeat we mnat all stand, to render 
an acGonnt of our works, I eBtreat— I implore yon to withdraw ; do, 
gentlemen, and kftve Iter and her children to their Borrows and 
tbeir misery, (or the world ' has little else for them." 

Tm willin' to go," said a feUow, ironictity called Handscme 
Hkcket, liecaoae "he wae "blind of an eye and deeply pook-pitted; 
"there's no nAe in'qnarreltia'wifh' a' woman certainly, and I don't 
think there can be any doubt aboat.the instofsjde^t^— ^vil a bit." 

" Well said, Taynna," exclaimed Sharpe, " and it not ten days 
since we were defended of Farra Baekan, wbo esbaped from na-in 
Jenuny fiielUy's e^n, when we thoi^ht to nai him in the wake- 
hoose; and wheit we went away didn't they set, tum at lai^, an4 
Aen gs hock tO' bnry the man that was dead. Now, how do you 
know, Taynus, my;pWrty tK)y,'that this fellow's not. ptayin' ua a 
trick (/the same Colonr?" ■ , 

"Come, ccane," said another of them who. had .not yet. spoken, 
"ilfs'aiay'U'know tliat. .Cone me, Steele, if yon don't giro him a 
tickle, 'I will — thal'B all i .we're login' the daiy, and I w&nt my 
breakfast — liring or dead, an'd be hanf^ to him') Tm starve^ for 
want of something to eat^'and to iriiiik. too— eo Jtn qdiok, I tell you." 

"Very well, my back," said 8tede, "that's --ytrtir sort — ^here 
goe*-- - ■■■,'_-■- ^ 

He once more advanced, with a sarage detem^nation, to effect 
Ilia pnrpoee, when the prieai gendy, and in a mild apirit.of remon- 
atiuice, laid his' hand -apda his shoblder ; but he had scarcdy done 
BO, when one of them seiied him by the collar,' and flnng, of rtdtor 
attempted to fling, hini back with great violence. 

"Go on, Steele," shouted the last speaker, whoto nune was 
Harpnr — " go on, and be cureed, manj we will support you " 

The words, however, were scsrcety out' oF his lip^ when Bay- 
mond, his eye glaring like that of a tiger with' the wildnesa of un- 
tamed resentment, spruug upon him with- a boui^ and in a mo- 
ment they once more grappled together. It was, however, only for 
a moment— for by the heavy blow he received from Baymond, the 
man staggered and fell, but ere he reached the ground, the gun, 
which had been ineSectually aimed at the poor fool, went off, and 
lodged its contents in the heart of the last speaker, who staggered, 
groaned, and fell lifeless where he Stood. 

For a minute or so this fatal and anexpected catastrophe stunned 



them. n«7 looked opon eack other, unued and appwentfy 
Btnpifled. ''What,'' cried Shupe, "ia Barpnr dead?" Two of 
them then [Aaoed their arma affinet the wall, is older to aacertain 
the exact natnre of the injury ioficted. 

At tiiifl moment, Sharpe, who saw at once that the nun was indeed 
lifelesB, raised Mb gun, abont to take aim at SsTmond, when a blow 
boia Harman feDed him to the earth. 

"And here's for ^onr kindneis, Mister Hanuan," shonted Slaale ( 
bat ere the words were atterad, 0*B^an's wife threw herself iqion 
him BO effeotoally, that he felt it impossible to avul hinuelf iit ba 

" Fight now," she shouted in Irish ; " it is for your Uvea— it ia for 
the widow — ^for the orphan — for the bed of death— and the dead that's 
nponi it — fight now, for God will be with nal Uaj bis strength and 
power be in your arms and yoor hearts, prays the woeful widow this 
dayl TiUain — rillain," she shouted, "I have you powerless nowt 
but it's the strength of Ood that is in me, and not my own I" 

The conflict that ensued now was bitter, saTage, deadly. The 
moment Sharpe was knocked down Baymond fiew to their fire- 
anna— 4ianded one to Harman, and kept the other himself. The 
men who need them were fierce, and powerful, and <inieL In a 
moment a fnrioas contest took place. The four men immediately 
grappled — each one attempting to wrest the gun from hia antagonist. 
Raymond, whose passions were now roused so as to resemble the 
ravenous fury of madness itself, at one time howled like a beast of 
prey, and shouted, and screamed, and laughed with maniac wild- 
nees that was enough to make almost any heart quaiL His eyes 
biased, his figure dilated, his musdes stood out, his mouth was 
white with froth, and his eye-brows were knit into a deep and 
deadly scowl. Altogether his appearance was frightful and ap- 

Harman was sliil better matched, and the struggle with his foe 
was for some time doubtful enough, the latter being one of the 
strongest and most resolute men in the whole pEirish. A powerful 
tug for the guu now took place, each pulling in opposite directions 
with all his might. At length a thought struck Harman, who all at 
once let the gun go, when the other, haying no longer a reusing power 
to sustain him, fell back upon the floor, and in an instant Barman's 
knee was on his chest and the gun in his posaesaioe. The man 
ground his teeth, and looking up into his face with a black acowl of 
hatred, exclaimed— 

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*■ It k jonr tarn now, but I wUl htiTe mina." 
** T«n have had youn too loag, yon Tillftin," npUed tha others 
** bat in the meantime I viU teach 70U to leapeet the bed of death 
and the aiSictioiu of a widow " 

Sajing wliich, be Tigonmafy api^ied the hutt id the gun to hit riba, 
nntn be had Tendered him aajthiiig bat disposed for further conflict. 
Both victories were achieved much abont the sun* time, Baj- 
mon«fb opponent being far the more severely pnaiahed of the two^ 
Whmt, however, was their Bmpriae, after each bad expdled bit mao 
from the cabin, to find Steele down, lu« gnn lying on one aide^ 
O'Began'a wife fastened on hia throat, and iie binuelf panting and 
alntOBt black in the face t 

** Here now T she exclaimed, " the battle of the widow was weQ 
fon^^t, and God gave ns streng^L Pot this man o«t with the xesl." 
This was accordingly done, but at in the case ttf his oompwiion^ 
the gnn for the present was retained. 

"See now," she proceeded, stlU in Iriab, "what the hand of a weak 
wonian can do, when her heart is sttengthened by Qoi against 
onel^ and oppressioD. What made that strong man weak in my 
paep? Because he knew that the weaknesa gf the widow was hii 
dtame — the touch of her hand tocA Kway hit sbvngth; and what 
had be within or abont him to depend on? could he look in upon hit 
vricked heart, and be strong ? conld ha hiok iqran the darknees of a 
bad conscience, and be Strong ? couM he look on me— -opon my dead 
hnaband, and bis bed of death, and be strong ? No ; and above all, 
ooold he look up to the Almighty Crod in beavca, and be strong? No — 
no — no — but from all these / gained strength — for surely, surely, I 
had it not in myseUT 

She uttered these sentiments with wonderful energy, and indeed, 
from the fire in her eye, and the flush of ber cheek, it was evident 
abe was higU; excited. Father Roche who had been engaged, and. 
Indeed, had enough to do in keeping the poor child quiet and aloof 
from the fray, espe<nal1y from hia mother, now entreated that she 
would endeavour to compose herself, as she had reason to Uiank God, 
he said, that neither she herself nor ber resolute defenders had Bua- 
tained any personal injury. She did not seem to have heard hint— 
for on looking on the body of her hudiuid she almost bounded over 
to the bed, and kneeling down, rapturously and in a spirit of eutbu- 
■iastic triompb, kissed his lips. 

"Now, my busband," sud she, "we have fought and gained the 
victory — no inault did you get — no diahonour on your lowly bed 



wbere you're aleepin' your last sleep. Hugh, do you kuoir, atthore, 
how the wife of your heart fon^t for yon 7 Your own poor, weak, 
aomwfnl, heart-broken, bat loving wife, that ma as feeble as an 
infant this momin'I But who gave her the strength to put down a 
strong and wicked man? TheGo^— the good God — and to him be the 
glory I — ^in whose bosom you are now hi^py. Ay, we conquered— 
hs— ha-^al — ^w« conquered— we conqaered— ha — ^ha-^ba F* 

The dead body of Haipor in the meantime had been removed bj 
his conpaoions, who it was evident felt as much, if not more, bitter- 
ness at tiieir own defeat, than they did by the fotal accident which 
deprived him of life. 

Scarcely had the wild triumph of CBegan's wife time to subside, 
when it soon became evident that the tragical incidents of this bitter 
and melancholy morning were not yet completed. 

The child alluded to by Harman in his first brief conversation with 
Father Boche, had been for some tjme past in a much more dangerous 
state than his parents suspected, or at least than hb unh^py mother 
did, whose principal care was engrossed by the situation of her hus- 
band. The poor boy, at all times afiectionate and uncomplaining 
felt loth to obtrude his little wants and sufferings upon her attention, 
knowing as he did, that owing to the nursing of his lather, she was 
scarcely permitted three honrs' sleep out of the twenty-four. If he 
could have been afforded even the ordinary comforts of a sick bed, it 
is possible he might have recovered. The only drmk he could call 
for was " the black water," as it is termed by the people, and hb only 
nutrition a dry potato, which he could not take; the bed he lay upon 
was damp straw, yet, did thb patient child never utter a pliable to 
dishearten hb mother, or deepen the gloom which hung over the 
circuinstaDces (rf the fiunBy, and his father's heart. When asked 
how he was, he nnifonnly replied " better," and hb lai^ lucid eyes 
would fiuntly smile upon his poor mother, as if to give her hope; 
after which the desolate boy would amuse himself by handling the 
bed-clothes as invalids olUn dc^ or play with the humid straw of his 
cold and miserable bed, or strive to chat with his mother. 

Hiese dettuls are veiy painful to those whose hearW are so elegantly 
and lashionably tender that they recoil with humane horror from 
eoenea of humble wretchedness and destitution. It is good, however, 
that thoy should be known to exist, fcff we assure the great and 
wealthy that they actually do exbt, and may be found in all their 
sharpness and melancholy trutli, within the evening Ehadow which 
fitUs from many a proud and wealthy dwelling in this our native land. 

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After all, it is likelj, that had not the feufal occnrrsiices of this 
morning takes pl&ce, their sweet bo^ might hare been spared to 
than. The aboek, however, occam<Mied h; the diacliarge of the gun, 
uid the noise of the conflict, acting upon a frame ao feeble, wai 
■lore than be conM bear. Be this oa it may, the constables were not 
many minntea gone, when, to their Bnrpriae, he sta^ered back again 
ont of his little room, where Father Boche had placed him, and 
tottering across the floor, slipped in the deceased man's blood, and 
felL The mother flew to him, bnt TTirmnn had already rused him 
up ; when on his feet, he looked at the blood and shuddered — a still 
mOTB deadlj paleness settled on his face — his breath came short, and 
his lips got dry and parched — he conld not speak nor standi had not 
HamuB snpported him. He looked again at the blood with horror, 
tiid then at his mother, whikt he shrank np, as it were, into himself, 
and shivered &om head to foot. 

■ I^lmg of my heart," she excUimed, " I understand you. Bi;aii, 
our treasure, be a nun for the sake of yoor poor heart-broken mother— 
I win, I will, my darling life, I iriU wipe it off of you, every stain of 
it — why should such blood and my innocent son come together P" 

She now got a doth, and in a few moments left not a traee of it 
npon him. He had not yet spoken, but on finding himself cleansed 
frcHD it, he stretched out tus hands, thereby intimating that he wished 
to go to her. 

" Do yon not perceive a bottle on the shelf there 7" said Harman, 

" it contuns wine which I brought for his ," he checked himself— 

"Alas! my poor boy," he exclaimed involuntarily, "you are doubly 
dear to your mother now. Mix it with water," he proceeded, " and 
give him a little, it will strengthen and revive him." 

*■ Better," said Father Boche in s low voice, not intended for his 
ear, "to pat him back into his own bed ; he is not now in a state to 
be made acqnainted with bis woeful loss." 

As he spoke, the boy glanced at the COTpse of lus father, and almost 
■t the same moment his mother put the wine and water to his lips* 
He was about to^taste it, bnt on looking into the little tin porringer 
tliat contained it, he pot it away from him, and shuddered strongly. 

" If s red ; if s mixed with the blood," said he, " and I can't j" and 
Mgfin he pnt it away from him. 

"Bryan, asthore," said bis mother, "ifs not Uood ; sure ifa 
wine that Mr. Harman, the blessin' of God be upon him, brought 
to yoo." 

He turned away again, however, and would not take iL " Brint 



me to my father," asid he^ once mora streteliiiig out his ami tomrda 
hb mother, " let me staj a while with Aim" 

" Bot ha's «de^ Btju," Mid Human, " and Pm Bore 7011 would 
not wish to awaken him." 

" I would like b> kiw him then," he replied, " and to ehep a whOa 
with him.* 

" Och. let Um, poor darling," said hie mother, as she took him ia 
btr anas, " it may ease hti little heart, aOd then hell feel Batiafied." 

* Well, if yoo'te allowed to go to him von't yon lie veiy qmet, and 
not apeak so as to disturb him ?" said Harmah. 

" Fm tired," said the ohild, "aad Fd like to deep in his bed. I 
naed sometimes to do it before and my father always kept his anas 
about me." 

His mother's features became cimvnlsed, and she looked op ts 
mute affliction to heaven ; bnt still, natwitkstanding her miswy, die 
was nnaUe t« shed one tear. ' 

« False of my becrt," (auAla matArea,) she said, kisring hin, 
*' yon most hare yonr huioeeiit and loriu' wish." She then gently 
r^sed tite bed-ekithea and placed him beside his father. 

The poor pale boy sat 19 in the bed for about a minnte, during 
which he glanced lU the still features of die departed, tbaa at his 
mother, and then at the pool of blood on the floor, and again he 
shuddered. All at once, howerer, he started, and looked aboiA bimi 
hot in a manner that betokened delight rather titan alarm — his eyes 
brightened — and on ex^eesion elmoet of radianoe settled upon his 
&C& " Uodier,* asid hc^ " kiss me, and let Kr. Hannan kiss me." 

They both did so, and his poor mother felt her heart relieved by 
the happiness depicted on his fkce. "Glory be to God," she 
ezelaimed, " see what a change for the better has oome over my 
blessed ehildl" 

Father Boche looked at Harman, and shook his head — " Blessed 
he will be aooo," swd he in a low wltispeE, " the child is dying." 

The boy started again, and the fimnsr serenity lit up his p^e 

" Bryan, you are better, darling of my life ; yon look a thousand 
jponnda better Ihan ytm did a while ago." 

The boy looked into her face and smiled. " I am," sud he, ** b«t 
did yon not hear it P" 

" Hear what, jewel of my heart P" 

" There it is again ;" said he, looking eagerly and delightedly abonl 
Um, <'my father's voiee; — thafs dtree tisaes h caDed me, but it 


difat MUM from the bed, alUioagh he's in it I will kijH him ud 
Aea ilee^— bat I will miea hia tmaa from tbtyat mo, I thiDk." 

He then fixed himself beside that loving puen^ eided b; fail 
moAar, and getting hie irm uotmd Ins pnlaelesB ne^, he klued hia^ 
cad imjs^ down hie ftir head, he fell uleep m that kfibeting poetnn. 
There was ■ Bcdemn stiUnees for erano niinntee, and e stnuigs feeling 
•f tar crept over hia mother's heart. She looked into the e7«a of 
thoee who werc about her, but the looks they .retartied to her carried 
Do eoasol«ti(Mi to hers^rik 

"Hj child!" she exolajmed; " Oh, m^ child I what is diis F BrTao, 
mj life — mj light, what aita yon ?" She stooped, and gently taning 
Um aboat bo as to flee hie face, abe looked keenly into it for a few 
mconents and there certainly was the same eeraphie expression which 
BO lately lit it i^ Still she felt dissatirfed, till putting her ear to 
hii saonth and her hand to Ids faeui, the woeful truth became known 
to her,' The gnildeas spirit of her fair^-haired sen had followed that 
of hia&tho'. 

When the afflicted widow saw the foil extent of her loet, aba 
daiped her hands together, and rose np with something of a hasty 
movement. She looked about th« miserable cabin for a moment, and 
then pooled into the face of every cmm in tbe rooB^^-all of when 
with the exception of Baym<»id, were in tears. She then pressed 
her temples, aa if striving to recollect what had happened — sat down 
again betide her hosband and child, and, to their astonishment, began 
to sing an di and melancholy Irish air, in a voice whose wild aweeW 
BOis was in singular keeping with ita moomfnl spirit- 
To the byatandaia dtia was more afi^ing a t&oosand times than 
the most rehement and outrageous grief. Father Roche, however, 
wbo had had a much more eomprdienBiTe experienoe than Iub 0<Hn- 
IMnion, knew, or at least hoped, that it would not last long. 

Several of the neighbours, having seen tlie dead body of the con- 
stable borne away, saq>eeted U»t aomething extraordinary had 
oecnned on the mountain, and oonsequenUy came flocking to the 
cataa, anxiiwn to know the truth. By thia means their acqn^tances 
were brought about them ; aid in every shape, as &r as it eonld be 
afforded, was admiuistered, and in a short time they had a little atook 
of meal, butter, milk, can^ee, and each oAar aim^ comforts as their 
poor friends and neighbours had to bestow. Such is the usual kinS- 
MHt of tbe Irish people to each ethw in the moments of deMftutioa 
and sorrow. Nothing, on the present oeoasieu, oodd surpass thor 
anxie^ in ascoriaining the wants of diia nnhapi^ fiunlly ; and im 

L.,,-„.:i ....Google 


mcli <nrcuinstances it a that the honest pr(»npUng8 of the humble 
heart, itnd it« smcere partlciptttion in the cahunities of its kindred 
|)Oor, are known to Bhioe forth witb a lustre which nothing but ita 
dbtftnce from the obserration of the great, or tiieir own wilful blind- 
aesa to it, coold prevent from bdog aeen and iq>iH«d«ted as it ought. 
Hating seen her anrroonded l^ friends and nughboora, Father 
Bocbct after first offering, as far aa he thought be conld reaatniaUy 
attempt it, some kind adrice and cossolation, prepared to lake his d^Mr- 
ture with Harman, leaving Bajmond behind them, who indeed refused 
to go. " No," said he ; "I can feed Diokej here. Bat sore they^ 
want me to run measagea ; Pm active and soc^le, an' HI go everj 
plac^ for Mary can't. But tell me, is the par^ boy, the £air-haired 
boy asleep, or what? — tell meP" 

"Why do yon ask, Raymond ?' said Father Boche. 

" Bekase I love him," replied Raymond, " and I hope he'll waken I 
I woold lilw to a»e him kiss his father again : but I'm afeard some- 
how I never wilL If he wakens Pll give him the cock, any how ; bad 
tuck to me but I Willi" 

" Hoeb," said the priest, whilst a tear started to his eye at this 
most artless exhibition of affection for the child ; " don't swear, Ray- 
mimd. The sweet boy will never waken in this world ; bnt he will 
In heaven, where he is awake already, and where you will see him 

" I would rather see him here," replied the other ; ** and I wish I 
had ger him the cock first, when he came out of the nxMn ; hut whatll 
the do without his white head before iier? Whafll «A« do, and not 
have that to look at P But atop," said Raymond i " wait a minute^ 
and we'll soon see whether he'll waken or not." 

He then went into the little room where the poor child bad lain 
during his illueea, and immediately returned, bearing the cock in his 

" W^l," sud he 1 "I was bringing the bird lo poor Hide Brya^ 
for I prtnaised it to hisL We'U see, well see." 

As he uttered the word^ he placed the bird down on the chilA 
1)os<»n, and called oat^ 

« Biyan, here's your present for you, that I promised you i woot 
yon waken ? Spake ; open your blue eyes, achora machree, and look 
nt the fine bird I brought you." 

It was a moat affecting little incident; for the contrast betwcM 
He fiery scintJUations that flashed from the eye of the noble bird, 
and the utter tmbroken stiilness of death, as its character was si 


teonrafully impressed upoo the fair sweet features of imiocencfl, wu 
iadeed onch ss few parental hearts oould withstand. Rajmond looked 
awhilfl, as if even he had been struck by it. 

" Ah, no," said be, going down to his mother i " no, Harf, he will 
never waken ; and then what will 7011 do for his white head ?" 

** Whistr rite replied t " whist, and ni aing jon a song. I hare 
nothing else to do now but to sing and be happy — 

" ' Farewell tkther, farewell mother, 
Farawell Mendt. and fkrewell foes ; 
I now will ^ KDd court lome other, 
For lore it wu the earner of all my woei.' 

" An' 80 it was," she said ; " for I did love some one, I think ; but 
who they were, or where the;^ are gone to, I cannot teU. Is your 
nam^" she added, her eye blazing as she spoke to Rajmond, " is your 
■UDW M*Clutdir?" 

"Say it is," sn^eeted one of the neighbours; "maybe it may 
flartle the poor thii^ into her senses." 

'*That^B not rery likely," replied another, "for it has startled her 
oat at titem i God in his mercy pity her 1" 

BaymoDd, hotrever, adopted the firet suggestion, without knowing 
why ; and said, in a lond voice — 

" Ay is it ; my name is Yal the VoJture, that commands the blood- 

The creature started — became for a moment b» if convalaed— thsn 
proceeded at a epeei that was incredible, screaming frightfully, across 
ibe daA and desolate scenery that surrounded the house. It was in 
Ttin to panne her t for there was nuie there capable of doing it with 
iDcoess, unless Raymond, who understood not that she had become 


A DiAi^aiTB, KzmBiTDio amavuiti PKii(ctri.E9 of justice— solo- 


The extraordinuy scene which we have just detsiled as occurring in 
Ac BHiniitain hut, totA place on Saturday moniiog, and about twelve 



on the BDbseqnent Monday, the following distogue puaeA between 
bonest Tal ftnd hia ton, Philip the graoefoL 

"That wu R most nnlnoky aocident that happened Harpor on 
SatDiday," sud Tal, iijlj, and looking with a gvod deal of signifi- 
cance at the other. 

" Unlooky," said Phil ; " faith and honour) mj good fathcTi I don't 
know what to think." 

" Ton diMi't, Phi! I" replied Val ; " why, what the dence could yon 
deem more nnluckj than to be shot stone dead, without a momenta 

PhiTa colour went a little at the bare notion of snch a fate ; bnt 
on ohaerring an expreaaion of pecnliar complaoencj larking in hia 
Other's eye^ it returned again, and, after a little aaamranoe, aettled 
down into its original hue. 

« To himself, certainly," aaid Phil, " it was a bad bnainese ; no c«« 
can deny that." 

"Bnt, my excellent son, Phil, it may turn out a very lucky inci- 
dent for us is the meandme. He is, Phil, a wise man in thia world 
who can tnni the misfortunes or crimes of ol&era to hia own adran- 
tage. There is Harman for instance, Fhil ; now I beliere yon are 
not excesairely attached to him." 

" I hate him as I do hell," replied FhiL 

" Yeiy good ; you hate him as you do hell ; well, on the other 
hand, there is M'Longfalin, his partner in the mannfictory, and hia 
{omt lessee in their form ; now I hate him as I do~-I was about to 
■ay the devil — ^but I fiael loth to render thut misreprescaited gentlenian 
an injnatice — that is, if there be auoh a gentleman— which, wHb 117 
worthy father, I much dcubt^ Don't yon think now it is a fortunate 
thing that we can indict Barman for Harpur's murder? I real^ 
think, and it ia said, he murdered him. We would inclode the prieat. 
in the indictment >a an accessory, bnt that might be attended with 
personal danger ; and the less real danger we incur the better for 

" Faith and honour, &ther, that doctrine's worthy of an oraelfr— 
as, indeed, most of what you say is." 

" Bnt mark me, Phil, onr object is simply his ruin, not his death. 
Let oa beggar M'Longhlin and him, and drire them out of the countiy. 
So, no J not the death of either of them ; on the contrary, I should 
wish them to lire, if it was only that they might fbel my rcTcnge, 
and that I knew they felt It. I would not hang them if I oonld, for 
my own sake." He got pale, ground his teeth, knit his blaekf beat)* 


tnC IBISEt IGSKt. )» 

tmms, aad exhibited that diabolical eut of featurea for wbieh he wu 
remarkable vheneTer bin evil passions began to stir in his beart. 

"Now," Mid he to Fhil, "keep a close moutb above all thioga, for 
we most proceed with caution. I have here a letter from Lord 
Cumber, in which, at mj private suggestion, he declines to renew 
their leases. Indeed, on serious consideration, I have recently advised 
Um to grant no renewals, except in cases where eTcrj reliance can 
be placed upon the principles of the parties. The want of a lease is a 
very wholesome restriction on the conduct of onr enemies. M'Slime 
opposes me in this, because he cannot pocket ^s much as usual ; but 
although I cannot readily break with him, still I trosl, that in a short 
time I shall be able to turn his flank in a maaner for which he is but 
little prepared. I have reason to think he is tampering with CVDrira 
— in &ct, (^Drive told me as much ; (yDrive, however, is at work 
for me, although honest Solomon does not suspect him. The pious 
attorney, who is bestowing more of bis attontion to religion Uian 
ever, has got bitten by tiw Ccmversion mania, and thinks be vriQ be 
charged with a neglect of his gifts, as he calls them, unless he can 
pradoce a live convert actually made by his own hands. I accord- 
ingly so^eated to (yDrive to consult him on some reli^ous scruples 
that he is supposed to have felt from the perusal of a tract written by 
H'Slime himself." 

"Why," said Pbil, "are you not aware that he gave me three or 
four dozen of them for gratuitous distribution, as he calls it? Tea, it 
it called ' The Religions Attorney t being a Eeconcilement between 
Honesty and Law, or a Blessed Union between Light and Darkness i 
1^ ScdoraMi M'Slime, attomey-at-law.' " 

' " Wlueh tract," continued Val, « was written for the sole purpose 
of recommending himself to the notice of the religions worid afore- 
said, more, by the way, as an attorney thui as a ChrisUam And a 
very good speculation it [Hoved ; for> whereas he was then scarcely 
aUe to make both ends meet by mere profesuonal n^uery, and 
aided by a block gawn-~which you know he always wears in court i 
yet he no sooner threw tbft doak of religion over that, than he ad- 
vanoed rapidly — asd the oonasquence is, that he is now privately a 
nsniioos disoonoter of bills." 

** Faith and honourt now, father, do you tell me so ?" 
"It^afaet, Philip, my sontand what is more — but the truth is, thu 
Bother h« nor I eon afford to quarrel with each other." 

"Why, fotfaer? phofs that 'more' you were going to add?" 

•■ At this pictent timp, Phil, it must ln^s secret— but it is arranged 

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between him and me, that he is to succeed Human k Belereen i 
whilst jon ore to come in for M'Longhlin's holding." 

" For which I shall hare the pleasure to drink ^onr health to-night, 
my old boy — apon mj hononr and aonl yon are an excellent o]d cwck, 
and I'm very proud of you." 

"Go ahead, Phil; no nonsense. Bnt stay, are those feDowa of 
mine come yet? I shall receive their InfonnationB, and hsTO 
Harman in the stone jug before night. It is a bad caoe of mnrder 
committed upon a man in the execution of the law, do you see, Phil, 
and consequently I cannot take hul." 

"No, certunly not, captain — as Darby says; certainly not) plaise 
your worship — ^ha, ha, hal" 

"Come, Phil, keep quiet; it is now time that operations sbonld 
seriously commence. I hare g^ned most of my points, thank — 
Valentine MKHutchy, at all events. I am Head Agent ; yon are 
my Deputy; Master of an Orange Lodge — a Msgistrate, and write 
J.F. after my name— Captain and Paymaster in the Castle Cumber 
cavalry, and you Lieutenant ; and though last, not least, thanks 
to my zeal and activity in the Protestant canse, I am at length a 
member of the Orand Panel of the county. Phil, my boy, tliere is 
nothing like religion and loyalty when well managed, but other- 

"They are not worth a feather," replied Phil; "right, captain — 
therms an oracle agfun." 

" And, Phil, my son, what is there wrong in this ? In (net, there 
is scarcely a better capital to trade on than religion and loyalty. 
Ton knoiw what I mean, Phil; not the thing$, if there be such 
things, which I must beg leave to doubt ; but that principle which 
causes one man to hate another, in pn^rtion to its influence over 

" Ay," said Phil, " just as you and T, who have not got a touch of 
true religion in oar whole composition, have the character of being 
two of the atannchest Proteatsnta in the county-" 

" TeB," replied the father, " and in this case the fiction is as good 
and better than the truth. The fiction, Phil, under which onr 
religion appears is our own inteiests— 410, 1 am wronp— 4ha flction 
under which our interest appears is onr religion— €bat is the way of 
it; and the truth la, Phil, that ninety-nine men out of every 
hundred will go ninety-mike for their interests, before they will go 
one for either religion or truth — that's the way of it, too. Howeres 
pua tliat—now about Toll Dodin and the hint I gave yon?" 

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* Why, 70a know, *Jl that time matters were not ripe for it Dont 
jan remember telling me eo jounelf P" 

" I dot but I speak of yonr preaent intenUotiB." 

" Faith, my present intentions wonld be to many tlie girl, Papist 
Ihongh she be, if I could t but as tfaaf a out <^ the question, I will 
now follow up your hiDt-" 

** Then you had better eee Poll, and go on with it. J^re joa 
aware, besides, that the concern is tottering ?" 

" The manufactory P No — is that poGsitJe ?" 

"It is a fact \ but you know not how honest Solomtm and I have 
bees at work. It is tottering. Lieutenant M'Clutchy, and in a short 
Ume you will see what you shall see." 

" Well," Bud Fbil, " so far eTeiythin^ is turning out very fortunate 
for us ; but I think, Captain, that yon are one of those men who are 
bom under what they call a lucky planet ; eh, old boy P" 

" Well, I think so; but !h the meantime see PoU Doolin, and after 
that pay a visit to my father. The old scoundrel is upon his last 
legs, and there can be no harm in paying bim some attention now. 
Tou are not a favourite of bis; so smooth him down as much as you 
can. I don't myself expect that be will remember either of us in his 
win ; but, as he is hasty and capricious, it is difficult to say what 
effect a favourable impression might have upon him." 

"Neither are you a favoniite with Isabel) or Jezabel, as he calls 

"No, I made a bad move there; but, after all, what did I, 
or rather, what could I, lose by neglecting her P Did she not succeed 
in bonisHng every one of his relatives from oboat him ? It was 
neither her interest nor her inclination to keep in with his friends ; 
go and seo him, at all events; reconnoitre, and report accordingly; 
and now, if these fellows ore come, let them be sent in." 

Phil accordingly withdrew to follow up his own speculations, and 
in a few minutes our iriends, who so bravely distinguished themselves 
in the widow's cabin, entered the office. 

Tal, like most of bis class and experience, was forced to undergo 
strong contests between the vanity occauoned by his success in life, 
and his oWn shrewd sense and acute perception of character. When- 
ever be could indulge that vanity without allowing its gratification to 
be perceived fay others, he always did so ; but if he happened to have 
a petsoa to deal with, whom he suspected of a sufficiently keen pene- 
troiion, his own sagacity always checked its display. No man ever 
jrazded him so thoroughly as O'Drive, who so varied and timed his 



latleij) H to keep him in ft state of perpetnal fthematioii between a 
perception of the fellow's knaveiy, and ft belief in his aimpUcitj of 
heart. On one occarion he would exclidm to himself or Phil, " This 
ODrive ia a deapente knaT^^ifs ia^poBsible that he can be honest)* 
ind again, "Well, well; there is too mnch simplicity there, too maclt 
truth unnecessarily told, to allow me to consider that poor devil 
ft TOfpaa—^9, he is honest." The consequence was, that Darby flat- 
tered bim, and he relished it so strongly, because he did not imagine 
It was intentional, that Darby understood his weak points, in that 
reapect, bett«T than any man living. This, In a coasti7 where the 
people are shrewd obserrers in general, could scarcely be supposed to 
eaoape their obeerration ; nor did it. Darby's manner was so natu- 
rally imitated by others, that/even the keen and vigilant Valentine 
H'CIntchy was frequently overreached without being at all con- 
scious of the fact. 

When the men of the Castle Comber corps came in, they found 
th^ captain sitting, or rather lolling, in a deep-seated arm-chair, 
drees^ in a morning gown and red Morocco sUppera. He wa^ 
or appeared to be, deeply engaged over a pile of papers, parchments, 
and letters, and for about a minute raised not his head. At length 
he drew a loi% breath, and exclaimed in a soliloquy — " Just so, my 
Lord, just so j every man that scruplea to support the Protestant 
interests TiU meet no countenance from you -, ' nor shall he, Mr. 
M'Clntol^, from you, as my represenUtiTe,' you add — 'and I beg 
you'—^e went on to read a tew lines further — ' to transmit me the 
names and oapacilies of all those who are duly active on my property 
in suppressing disturbance, convicting criminals, and preserving the 
peace ; especially those who are remarkable for loyal and conatitn- 
tionftl principles ; snch are the men we will cherish, anch are the 
men we mnat and ought to serve.' It is yerj true, my Lord, it 
is very true indeed, and — " oh I my good friends I beg your pardon I 
I hadn't noticed you — oh, dear me I how is this F Why Z didnt 
Imagine you had been so sadly abased as all this comes to— this ii 
dreadful, and all in resisting the king's warrant against the murderar. 
But how did it happen that this Harman murdered our poor friend 

" Harpur is done for, captaio, sure enough; there's no doubt of that.* 

f Wen, i^s one comfort that we live in a country where there ia 

jnslice, my friends. Of course yon will prosecute him for this 

diabolical murder : I sent for you to receive your informations, and 

we ahtdl lodge him in gaol before night." 



" I ironU rather proMonte thai bladgaard Simon % HmUib," said 
8t«el^ whoee head was ftwfnUj swoUod and bonnd np with a hao^ 
kerchief. ** Bimott, oapt^ is the greatest rascal of tiie two — he ia, 
bj Japnrai" 

" Tea, bat ii ho not an Idiot, Steele ? In point of law he ii onlj 
■ ficticoi, and OHuiot be prcMecntad." 

" Fiotiao, ej^rtain ? Sowl, I dont know what you call a fictioit— 
bat if Fm gnessin' propeiiy, hell to the mnch ot it was in his blowa 
^ook at how mj bead ia, and I wish yoa could aee 1117 ribs, pltdoe 
joor woreh^" 

" Weill bat let ns come to the most important matter first— and 
tafoce I go further, my friends and brotbere, I wonld Jnst throw out 
for your aotiBfactian a few observations that I wish to impress upon 
you. Becollect that in this business, and in every bosiness like it, 
yoo most have the pleaeiire at leest of reflecting that jan have now a 
magistrate who will see that all doe care is taken of your interests— 
who will accompany your proceedings step by step, and see that all 
i* as it OBght to be. That is not partiality, my dear friends i that is 
not favonr nor afibction) nor leaning to you t 00, nor, — ha, ha, hat 
leaning from you either, my friends." 

" Long life to your wordtip I Long life to you captun I You're 
the right sort, and no mistake." 

"H'Dowel, what detained you from your lodge on Thursday 

" I was bluing a springer in Rnshford f^, and didn't get h<Hne in 
time, yoBi wtsship." 

"Well, U1>owel, mark me^-I neither oan, nor will, overlook 
nef^aei in these matters. The man that neglects them wilfully, is a 
man X wim't depend upon— and two of jonr neighbours were absent 
from parade 00 Wednesday week. Now, it is really too bad to 
ezpeet that I, or any other gentleman in the country, will exert oor- 
aelres so strenuously to snstuD and extend our own principles, or to 
speak plainly, to keep them up— to mnitHaiti our ascendancy — if we 
cannot reckon upon the earnest and cordial support of those for 
whose sake we take all this trouble— npon my honour it's a shame." 

" It w a shame, captain, and I say tlutt here's one," pladng his 
band t^ran his heart, " of the right kidney. By the holy William, 
tiiere is." 

" We're all so, your worship," replied Sharpe, " and sure every one 
knows it — ^bnt plaise your honour, what's to be done about H e rman 7" 

" Why prosecute him for the murder of coarse.' 



" But then," said one of them, " sure Human didn't murder hin^ 
capt^n— among ouraeWes, it wu all Mddent" 

M'Clntohy seemed aurprised at this, and after hearing their indi- 
vidual opinions, which, indeect, conflicted veiy much, some poridvelj 
asserting tliat he did, and others that he did not, nmrter the man, he 
began to view the matter in a somewhiit difierent and nuoe caatious 
light. He mused for some time, however, mad nf)«r a second and 
more deliberate investigation, finding that there were two for the 
miu^er and only one against it, he at length took their infonnaUons 
resolving to bring the matter to trial at all hazards. The warrant 
for Barman's ai^rehension was acoordingly issued, sad entrusted to 
about a dozen of the most resolata fellows in his corps ; who so far 
enabled ooi magistrals to fulfil his intention, that they lodged his 
enemj in the count; prison that very night. 

The next morning, when reading the papers, our captain was not a 
little Borpriied at finding in one of them an advertisement to the fol- 
lowing effect : — 

" To the Public — Found, in Uie office of Hr. Solomon H'Slime, a 
Bank of Ireland Note, of large amount The person losing it maj 
have it by giving *a proper description of same, and paying thei 
expenses of this advertisement. N.B. — It is expected, as the loser 
of the note must be ia affluent circniDslanoes, that he will, from 
principles of Chfistian sympathy, contribute, or enable some Chris- 
tian friend to contribate, a moderate donation to Mwie of oor greatest 
public charities. Thus will that which at tlie first view appears to 
be a serious calamity, be made, under Him, a blessing and a conso- 
lation, not only to the wealthy individnal who lost the money, but to 
"ome of our destitute fellow-oreataree. This, however, is not named 
OS a condition, bat merely as a su^^estion, ofiTered fVom motives of 
benignly and duty. 

"Also, just published, 'Tke Religioui Attomejf i tt&ag a Re- 
Eoncilement between Honesty and Law i or a Blessed Union 
between Light and Darkness. By S. M'S. Tenth Thou- 

" Alsot in the Press, and will soon be published, done up neatiy in 
foolscap, and rt^ue's Innding for cheapness, by the same author, * 7%« 
Cotnerted Bailiff; being designed as a companion to The Retigioua 
Attorney' These prodnctions need not be songbt for with any of tho 
profane boc&sellcrs <rf the city ; but only at the Religions Dcpo- 
fiUiries, or at those godly eslabUshmoals in Sackville-strcet btiiI 
College- gi-een." 

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lUt, bowcTer, wu not alL In a difib«nt colamn q>penad Ika 
fcSowing ; which, however, did not BurpiaH MKHatchj t— 

" Gioriomi Tritempk of IMigumM IV^th I 

"In another port of our paper, onr readers will perceire In 
an adTertiBement, an additional proo( if sodi were neoessarj, of the 
etHug integri^ tit that ornament to his profeeaion, both aa an 
Attorney and QiriMian, Ur. SolcMnwi H'SUve. This gentleman, 
whilst he derotea himself, with a pore and gnilelesa heart, to the 
extenrive jncMoe which bis high principles and great skill bara 
gained hint in his pnrfession, does not neglect the still higher and 
more important intaieeta of himself and his fellow^oreatores. It Is a 
gracious thing to know that a spirit of deep and earnest inqniry is 
now abroad, by which hundreds are, nnder God, brought from dark- 
neis to light — from the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity, 
into the freedom of perfect day. Verily there is a New Kofor- 
wMiiaa abroad — the strongholds of Popeiy are fast falling one after 
another. In the neighbourhood of Moant-starve-'em, the spirit baa 
been poored out most abnndaotly ; and this nuuufestation is tlie 
more (^racioiis, when we reflect that the dieadfiil famine which now 
{Meraila throaghont the conntry, has been made (always nnder Him) 
the precions but tryii^ mean of bringing tbe poor benighted crea- 
tures to taste the fruits of a better faith. Nothing, indeed, can eqnal 
the bonnty of that excellent nobleman, Lord , who supplies beef 

and Uanketa — bibles and bread — to those who may be likened to the 
multitude that were fed so miraculonalj in the wilderness — that is to 
8^, who fiAowed the good sliepherd for Iiis doctrine, and were filled 
with bread. Mr. M'Slime, who has within his own humble sphere 
not been inactive, can boast at least of luving plucked one brand out 
ot the Traming, in the person of Darby CDrive, the respectable 
bailiff* of Valentine M'Clutcby, Esq., the benevolent agent of Castle 
Cumber estate — to which Mr. M'Slime himself is law agent. It is 
understood that on next Sabbath (n.v.) Mr. (yDrive will make 
a poUic profession of hta faith — or, in other words, * that he will 
recant the errors of Popery, and embraoe those of FrotesttmtiBm.'" 
The merit of his converson is due — but merit there is none— to Mr. 
U'Slime, or rather to his two very popular and searching tracts^ 
called * Spiritual Food for Babes of Grace,' and ' Tlio Religious 



Atbmwy,' which he had plMed foor pernaal in Hr. ODrivVB hudu 
Ur. (yJMn now deolarea himBelf a babe of grace, and free &am 
the bonds of un ; or, aa he more Blmply, bat trnthfullj' and ohorac- 
terialjcally e^rraasa it— a beantifol specimea indeed of Mb dmplici^ 
(^ view*— 'he ia nplavined fn»D the pound of hiusan fnult; — oo 
iMiger likaly to be brooght to the devil's aoctioii, or kitocked down to 
Satan aa a bad bargain.' For ouraelvei, we cannot he^ thinking 
that tbia mdoUbted triutnjdi of religious tratb, in the peram of Mr. 
Darhj (yDrive, is aa creditable to the seal of Hr, H'SIitnOi aa it ia 
to his aincerity. £noonraged by this great ancoeaa, Mr. M'Slimei 
•eoonded bj several of our leading controverdaliatB, has saooeeded ia 
getting np a polemical di«;usiioa on the merita of the Protestant and 
Fo[nth creeds. The particnlaia have not been decided upon, but 
the; sliall probablj appear in an early ndmbtf of our paper. In the 
meantime we are authorised by Mr. Darby CyDrive to issue a formal 
challenge ia any Popish and idolatrous bailiff in Ireland, to disenas 
with him tlifi relatire powera, warrants, proeeaees, triumphs, ocmfl»- 
grations, and executions of their reepectiTe churches." 

He had soaroely finished this characteristic paragraph, when 
O'Drive's knoolct as usual, was heard, and in a few minutes the re- 
doubted champion and challenger entered. There was a knavish 
demurenesa about bim, and a kind of comic solemnity in his amall, 
canning, grey eye> that no painter could copy. 

"Why, you Bcoundcel," said Val, "you're overdoing the thing 
altogether ; is it possible that M'Slime is such a spooney as not to 
see through you F" 

" Ah, capbun, you don't make any allowance for my simplicity ; 
sore you know, sir, I must grow young and innocent, if Pm to 
beoonie a baba of grao«, your worship." 

" But what's the meaning of all thid work about discussioni and 
such stuff?" 

" Faith, sir, it's all thrue enough at any rate ; we're lo have a re- 
ligious field day here in the Sessions House of Castle Cumber ; the 
whole thing is regulated — ^the aeconda, and botUe-botilders, and all 
is appointed. There's the Bev. Christopher Gammon, Sov. Tesuvina 
M'Slug, who's powerful against Popery — tbe Bev. Bernard Brimstone, 
and the Bev. Fhineas Lucre, with many more, on the side of thrutfa. 
On that of Popery and falsehood, there's the Bev. Father M'Stake, 
(he Bev. Father O'FIary, the Eev. Father M'Fire, and the Rev. 
Nicholas (yScorch, D.D. Dr. Sombre is to be second on our side ; 
and Father M'Fud on the part of Popery and idolatry." 

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"And when u this preciooa spouting match to take place, you 
rascal P" 

"'Why, mx, oo Monday week ; and on next Snnday, Bir, I'm to 
read iiiy rekintatlon, plase Ood." 

" Bnt I didn't intend that 70a should go to such kngths as that— 
howBTBT, that's your own a^dr." 

** Bnt, aq)tam ahagnr, sure it's on yonr account Pm doin' it — won^ 
U enable me to get the blind side of him about one or two things we 
want to dome at P* 

"Indeed, I believe, eertainly, that if he has a blind ude at all, it is 
his own hypodiBy." 

« Be my eowl, and if 11 go hard or we'll worm ont the sacret we 
want. Then is one thing Tm sartin of; he thinks, now that I'm 
tamin' hy the way, that Fm ready to desart and desave you, captain 
»— arf indeed he says many things of you that he ought not to say." 

** Let 08 hear them." 

*< Why, air, he said the other day — bnt sorra one o' me likes to be 
repeatin' these things." 

" Come, come, yon rascal, out with it." 

" tie said, sir, that he feared the diril had a hard howlt o* you — • 
that was the day I brought him the last letther, sir — that your heart, 
captain. w«s full o" desate, and damnably wicked, plase your worship, 
and that if yon did'nt improve yonr morals you'd go where there is — 
something abont gnashing of teeth, your honour." 

" He's a double-distilled scoundrel,'' replied Val, bitterly ; " and 
although I know bim well, I am determined still to know him better." 

** Double'distiUed I — ay, faith, rectifled many degrees above proof; 
bnt never mind ; if I don't pot a spoke in his wheel, I'm not herd." 

** Well, never mind now, either — give the hypocritical little scoun- 
drel this letter." 

" I will, and thank you, captain 1 Ood bless your honour, and grant 
yoa ' long to reign-over ns, h^ipy and glorious, Grod save the king ! 
amin.' Yon see, captain, I've the right strun of loyalty in me any 
bow, ha, ha, ha ! Troth, if I ever change in aimest, it isn't among 
the yallow bellies Pll go; but into his majesty's own church, captain 
Val— the brave church where they have the bells, and the big blessed 
kiokin' bishops, and their organs and coaches ; ay, faith, and where 
«very tiang is dacent anJ gintlemanly. Sure, blood alive, capttun 
Val, beg^* yonr pardon, vbal^s the nse of a religion if it'snot re- 
e and pvteel? Whst signifies a ministher of any religion, if 
n't a fat purse in his pocket, and a good round belly before him| 



for that ibowfl, plalse your worBhip, tbat religion is more than h nam^ 
»ny how ; — xn' npon mj conscience— oh, holy Uosea, captain Vkl, tt 
M'Slime was to hear me swearin' this way 1 Ood pardon mel bow- 
aadever — ^but upon mj conscience, it isn't the religion tbat koepe a nan 
poor, bnt the reli^on that pnts tbe flesh <m hia hones, aod keeps it 
there, that is tbe right one — aji and not onlj that, but that keeps a 
good coat to his back, your honour, and a good p^ of breecbes to his 
poeterala — for which raison, whenever I do larimuly turn, itll ba^— 
bnt you may guess — illl be to the only tme and loyal chorcb i~-ttir 
when a roan can get both tkt, and loyal, and religious, all at oob more, . 
be's a confounded fool that won't become religious." 

This certuuly, though not intended for it, was a true and biUer 
comment npon the principles of such men as M'Clutchy, who consi- 
dered a prolane and lieentioos attachment to a mere Establiahment as 
a high duty, not because that Establishment was tbe exponent of 
dirina truth i but of a mer« political symbol, adapted by subordinate 
and secular aids, to bind men of the same principles tc^ethw. 

"Begone, yon rascal, and confound your diasertatiM]. Go and 
delirer the letter, as I desired you, and bring me an answer." 

"Sartinly, captain, and will have an eye about me, into the 
bargain. How is captun Phil, mr, before I go ?" 

ICClutchy made a motion of indignation, bnt could not, in the 
meantime, altogether repress a smite ; and Darl^ taking lua hat with 
a kind of shrewd and omfldential grin, ran out of the office. 

Our narradTe now passes to the house of Foil Doolin, which was 
situated in a row of cottages towards the north side of Castle 
Cumber. Her son Baymond and she were its only inmates ; and the 
former was in tbe act of replacing a hat among the tria jwteta 
in UNO, which he always wore. 

" Raymond," said his mother, " now that you're got your snpp^ 
yon must keep house tiD I come back." 

" Must I indeed 7 why must I F answer mo tftat i there now, that* « 

"Becase I'm gcia' out on buuness." 

"What business? where to? what brought Phil M'Clutchy hcra 
yestherday? tell me that— ch?" 

"Oh, I couldn't tell you that, Raymond." 

" Don't do anytHng for Fhil, he's Val's son, tbat keeps the blood 
hounds. Ah, poor Bryan, and hia white bead — nO) bell never 
waken — never waken — an' what has she now to look at I Mother 
I'd give all the cocks I ever had to see bim and hie w^'ite head in his 

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aothei'a ums aguo— God'a curse on TbII God's corse on him I I 
hate him — I hate Phil — I hate all of them — don't, mother; do 
nothing for them.* 

" Ton foolish hoy, what do yon know about It F keep the honae tQl 
I come back, and Pll bring 70a a pennyworth of tobaccy P" 

" But 70a will go?" said Raymond. 

" I mast, you fbd." 

" Yeiy well, then, take it out o* that — there now, that's one." 

It was now drawing on towards dusk, and FoU, assuming her black 
bonnet, and thiowing'ber black cloak about her shoulders, sallied out 
with that furtive air which always accompanies one who is conscious 
of something that requires concealment. Her motions always vrera 
rapid, bat on this occasion she walked like one whose mind brooded 
orer difficulties— nBometimes she went very quickly, then slackened her 
pace, and once or twice stood still, musing with her right hand to her 
chin. At length she reached the residence of Bryan Hlioughlin, 
just after night had set in ; she entered not, but glided about the 
house, wuledi walcbed, listened, and peeped into the bouse, very like 
a thief that was setting the premises. Ultimately she took her stand 
at a particular window in the rear of the building, where she kept 
watch with great patience, thoagh for what purpose it would appear 
very difficult to guess. Fatience, however, is often rewarded, and it 
waa so in the case before us. Ailer about half an hour a light full 
throngh the glass, and Foil avuling herself of the opportunity, 
b^ped gently; at first it was not noticed, and she tapped again, 
somewhat loader; this was successful — a gentle voice inquired in 
tones more of surprise than alarm, " who is there, and what is your 

"A friend," said PoIL 

" Poll Doolin r 

" The same, and Pm here on a case of life and death. Could you 
Gome oat for a start — ^three minutes will do?" 

u Certainly not — ^you trifled nnneceasarily with my feelings before 
—I will have no more mysteries. I can nuse the window, however, 
and anything yoa have to say may be said where we stand." She 
miaed the sash as she spoke. " Now," said ahe, <* what is your hoA- 

''Life and death, aa I said," replied FoQ. "Do yon not know that 
Xr. Barman is to be tried for murder, and that the assises will open 
la « few days?" 

" UBfintoaate^ X io,' replied Uary, sighing deeply ; " but tbera 



can be no doubt of bU toqnittal. Father Roche has been hen, wliti 
WH prMent^ and told as bow the wkole ainmnutanom oooorred." 

" I don't doubt thal^" said Poll ; " but this I tell jon, and tbii 70a 
may ralj on, tbat hang he will, in apite of fate ; h^a doomed." 

" Great GodI" exclaimed the aow teirifled gid, "yon chiQ the 
blood in mj veins — doomed ! whet do yoa mean, Pidl?' 

" U'Clntcbj will have bim hanged in spite of all opporition — jaa 
know bis power sow — ^be can carry eTerything bis own way." 

" I know," replied tbe otheiv " that bis iafloence is nnfortimatelj 
giea^ no donbt, and cruelly ia it exwDised ; but still, I don't know 
that be can cony everTtbing bis own way." 

" Do you know what packing a jury means ?" 

" Alas 1" reidied Msiy, starting and getting pale, " I do, indeed 
PolL I have heard of it too frequently." 

" What, then, has the Tultnre, tbe blood-honnd, to do but to get 
twelve Orangemen upon tbe jury, and the work ia done 7" 

Tbe nnb^tpy girl burst into tears, and wrung ber hands ; for, bow- 
ever quesdtmable tbe veracity of ber present informant, she knew, 
from the unfortimate circumstances of tbe eoiutry, that such compt 
influences bad too frequently been ezwted. 

" Don't you know," added Poll, " tbat the thing can be done ? 
Isn't the sheriff himself an Orangeman — isn't the sub-sheriff an 
Orangeman — isn't tbe grand jury Orange, aren't they all Orang« 
tbrongh other ?" 

" I believe so, indeed," said Mary, still meping bitteriy, " and 
there is, I fear, little or no h(^»e." 

" Well, but," replied Foil, " what if I could pve you h<^?" 

" Ton, Poll, what can you mean ? Ton 1" 

" Yes, me," said Poll, " poor as I Bland herp nptf •" 

" Well, but bow ?" 

" Through them tiiat can turn onld Val (be Vpltnre round tbeir 
finger. What do you think brought me here — or wbo do yo« think 
sent me 7 Don't yon know that I b»ve no ruscp to like a bone 
in the akin of one o' your fa^ilyi 4nd that it's more^ of DQorac^ 
to plaise others than myself that Pm beie ; but, over and above tkafc 
you, Uiss M'Loughlin, never offended or injured me, and Pm wiHU 
to sarve you in this bosioesa, if yon wiU sarve yourself." 

" Sut, how, but how ?" replied the distracted girl, "only tell me how ?" 

" There is one, and only on^ fbat can twist Val rouvd bis ftiBOC 
and in this same business is willmg to do so — and iMt dm krMi 
own son, Phil." 

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Mary stood for a moment without even breatliingi indeed, ihe 
exhibited strong symptoms of disgiut at his very name. 

" He is a person I detest," she replied, " beyond any homan 

"That may be," said Poll, "hut still he can save the man that is 
to be your husband; and thafs what you onght to think of — the 
time is short now, and the loss of a day may ruin alL Liaten, Mim 
MliongbUi) ; Mr. Phil desired me to say to you, that if yon will 
allow him a few ndnutes conversatioa with yon behind tLe garden, 
about dusk or a little afW it, hell satisfy yon that he can and will 
Bare him— but it tnwf be on the condition of seeing you as I say." 

"I^et him be generous," she replied, "and impose no such 

" He won't interfore on any other terms," replied Poll ; " he knows, 
H seems, that you hare an nnfaronrable a[uoion of Mm, and he 
wishes to prove to you that he doesn't desorre it." 

Maiy paused for some time, and appeared very mnch distressed. 
I fear, thought she, it is selfish in me to think of my own feelings, 
OF to have a moment's heutaiion in sacrificing them to hk safety. It 
is, certainly, a disgusting task to meet this mas j but what ought I 
not to doy consistent with oonaciouB rectitude of motive, to save 
my dear Harman's life, for I fear the circnmstances come to that. 

" Well, then, Poll, if I meet this man, mark me, it is solely for the 
poipose of striving to save Mr. Harman's life ; and observe, because 
Ui. M'CIntchy is ungenerous enough to make my meeting him die 
condition of his interference." 

" That," BMd P(dl, ** is for yourself to consider ; but surely yon 
would be a strange ^1, if yon refused to meet him for snch a 
purpose. That would be a quare way of showing your love to Mr. 

"I shall meet him then," said Moiy, "at the style behind the 
garden ; and may God direct and protect me in what I porpoae '." 

Poll gave no amen to this, as it might be supposed she would have 
done, but simply said — 

" I am glad. Hiss M'Longhlin, that yoif re doin* what you are 
doin'. Itll 1^ a comfort maybe to yonrself to refiect on it hereafther 
Good night. Miss I" 

Uary bade her good night, and after closing the sbalters of her 
room, which she hod come to do, retired ; and with an anxious heart 
Tetomed to Ihe parlour. 

M'Loughlin's family consisted of three sOns and hut one daughter 



Hut Iterself. The eldest, James, iru a fine young man of twenty - 
tliree; the second, Tom, was younger than Mary, who tlien wu 
entering her tweBty-flrstt and the yonngeat, called Bryan aAcr his 
father, was only eighteen. The honest feUow's brow was clouded 
with a deep ezpresdmi of melancholy, and he sat for some time 
tilest after Mary's return to the parlour. At length be siud in a 
kind of soliloquy — 

" I wish, EaffHtond'Ha-hattha, yon had been behind the Slievbeen 
Monntoina that bitter morning you came for James Harman I" 

" If he had," said Tom, " poor James wouldn't be where he is 

"But I hope father," said Mary, in a voice which, though it trembled 
a little, yet expressed a portion of confidence — " I hope as It was on 
ucddent, that there will not be any serious riah." 

'* I would be sorry to take any hope out of your heart that's in it, 
Mary ; but, still, I can't forget that Val the Vulture is his bitterest 
enemy — and we all know what he's capable of doing. His son, too, 
graceful Phil, is still worse against him than the father, especially 
ever since Harman pulled his nose for what he said of Mary, here. 
Kd I ever mention it to you ?" 

" Noi sir," replied Mary, colouring without exactly knowing why, 
" you never did." 

" I was present," said young Bryan, " but it wasn't so much for 
what he said, for he got afraid, but the toay he looked." 

" The scoundrel I" said James, indignantly ; " well Bryan — " 

" "Twas at the Ball-aUey," proceeded the young fellow, " in Coatle 
Cumber ; Uarj was passing homewards, and Phil was speaking to 
long Tmu Sharpe, &ther to one of the blood-hounds. 'That's a 
purty girV sud SharpO) ' who is she ?* ' Oh,' saya Phil, ' an 
. acquaintance of mine — but I can say no more — honour bright,' and 
he winked one of his squinting eyes as he spoke. James Harman, 
who was standing behind him, stepped forwnrd — ' but I can say more,* 
B^ he, ' she's daughter to Bryan M'Loughlin, and no acquairUtaue 
^ yow«— «od what is more, never will be — ay, nnd what is more,' 
SlJd Jantes, 'here is a proof of it i' and, as he spoke, he pulled Phil's 
probos^ and then wiped his fingers in bis purty face. ' Now, you 
cowardly scoundrel,' he added, ' let that teach you not to speak of any 
respectable female in such a tone, or to claim an acquaintance where 
you have it not 

" Never mind, my good fellow " said Flul, " Fll make you smoke 
Hot this." 

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" You kbow wbere I ud to be foand," aud Jamea, " and your 
remedy too ; bat you haven't the spirit to take it like a man — and so 
I leave you with the white feather in yonr cap." 

Tbia aneodote, for vatioos reaaona, distreesed Mary beyond belief. 
It inereaaed her detostation of yooog M'Cldtchy to the highest 
posnble pitch, and rendered tlie very thought of him doably odious 
Ut her heart. Her understanding became bewilderedt and for a 
while she knew not what she said or did. Takbg a candle and 
•Uempting to conceal her agitation, she withdrew again to her own 
room, where she sat for neanly half an hour endeavouring to shape 
her tumnltnons tbonghts into something like clearness and order. 

H'Loughliu's Invwt bowever, tStet her departure, still remained 
donded. " Misfortunes, they say," said he, " Qeverloome single ; here 
is oar lease but, and we will not get a renewal notwithstanding the 
foe we <^Bred — and to mend the matter^ some good fneBd has spread 
a report that the firm ti[ M'Lougblih and Hamtan is unsafe. Our 
creditors are coming down upon us fast — but it's the way of the 
world, every one striving to keep himself safe. If these men wer^ 
not set npon ns by some coward in the dark, there would be 
neither loss qor risk to them nor tn ns ; but if they press on us out 
ol the usual cootm, I fear we won't be able to stand it. Tlien poor 
Harmsn too 1 heighonee V 

After some further conversation, in which it was clear that 
H'Clatchy and M'Slime'd raancenrtea had begun to develope them- 
selTea, Uary rejoined them. Her countenance on her return was 
evidently more cfrntposed, and impressed with a more decided, perhaps 
we riioald say, deieAnined character. She had made ber mind np. 
H'Clutchy, junior, was, no doubt, one of the most detestable of men;; 
but as sbe knew thai she bated him, and felt a perfect consciousneBs 
of eH that was tntthfnl, and pure^ and cautious in hersdf, she came 
(mee more to the resolution of sscrifloing her own disgust to the 
noble object of saving her lover. Besides, it was by no means an 
unreasonable hope on her part ; for stich was the state of party and 
political feeling at the time, that wiser and more experienced 
beads wonld have calculated rightly, and calonlated as she did. 

" Father," said she, on returning to the parlonr, "don't be «sst 
down too much about Harman ; I think, considering everything, that 
bis caae is far &om being hopelesB. There is Fatiier Boche — as for p4x>r 
Sfary (XBegan, in conaeqnence of her insanity, she, unfortunstelyiCffn 
be of no nae — and one of the bloodhounds are ngainst the two others. 
Now, two to two is sorely strong evidence in bis faroiir." 



Ske did not, however, nutke the slighteat sUiuioa to this grouiiils 
on which she actnallf reeled her hope — that is to esy, on Phil's 
influence over his father. 

ll'Loughlin was glad to see that her spirits were so much more 
impTOTed than they had been ; and so &r from uttering anything 
ealcnloted to depress them, be appeared to feel much more eaiy in 
his mind than before — and, perhaps, actually did so. 

" WeU," said he to his wife, who was a woman of few words, bat 
deep feeling — "Kathleen, will yon see that we get a glass of pnncb— 
the boys and I ; there can be no harm surely in drinking a ■ .-.; 
but it's time enough to drink it when we see the liquor bef(»« t». 
Mary, aronmeen, as you ue aotiver than your modier, will yoa un- 
dertake that dn^? — do, aviUish machree." 

In a few nUnntea Mary, quietly but actively, had the decanter, 
sugar, and hot water before them; and BiTin, having mixed a 
tumbler for himself, and riioved the materiab over to his two eldest 
boys, resumed the oonvereation. 

*< Come, boy&~are yon mixed 7" 

"All ready, sir." 

"Well,h^8 that Jamea Hsrman may triumph over his enmuesl" 

This was drank, we need not «By, with an anxious and sincere 

"Do you know now, said M'Longhlin, "that I think there's a very 
great difi^rence between little M*Slime and diat Yulture of beU, 
MKillutchy. The little fellow came riding past to-day, and, seeing 
me in the fleld, he beckoned to me : — 

*"I hope,' says he, 'that certain reports, which 1 was aorry to 
hear of, are unfonoded P 

"•What reports, Mr. H'SlimeP says I to lunt. 

« 'Why,* M^d he, < it is not out of idle cuiiority that I make the 
inqtiiry, but I trust from better and more Christian notiTes i' and, 
upon my oonsaence, the little fellow turned up his eyes towards 
heaven, in a way that would shame Father Boche himself. Faith, if 
there wasn't truth there^ X doi^t know where you could get iL ' The 
reports I speak of,' says he, ' touch the solvency <tf your flrm.' 

** 'Able to pay fifty shillings in the poond,' sud I, not wQling to 
encourage the outcry. 

"Tm delighted to hear iV says generous little Solomon; *bat all 
I have to B^ is, that if it had been otherwise, or should it actually 
be otherwise, so br as a few hnndred pounds go, yon may draw upon 
a man s sinner— a frail mortal and an unworthy — named Sotomon 

THE mi3tl AGENT. UT 

M'SlioMi. ThU,' he went on, ' is not mere worldly friendship^ Mr 
U'LoDghlin, that promisee mpch until the neceastty wrriTei, and then 
do all such promises flee, u it were, into the wildemeu. No, my 
friend,' says the wum-heatted little asint — 'no, my friend, theM 
oAjn STB founded not on my own atrengtb, so to aay, but upon those 
Uewed piwepts, Mr. HlJoaghlin, which teach as to love our neigh* 
boim Bi oorselvee, and to do unto others even u we wish tlu^ 
skotiM do unto ns.' He sqaeeied jny haqd, ud whispered in my 
ear — ^*A8 Gsr as three fauRdred pounds go, should yoi require it, rely 
on me ; but harkee,' says he^ ' and now,' — well, here's his health !-~ 
■and now,' — ohl I knew he was in earnest — ^"and now,' says he, 
'one word with yen: I trust — I hope, I may say— 4hat I am a 
Christian man, who would not speak aught against my neighbour ; 
but this, oat of a principle of Christian kindness, I wUl say~-be- 
wnre of Valentine M'Clntchy. It is known tM«te P uud be, pointing 
has finger, and taming up his eyes to heaven — ' it is known thert 
from what motiTes I speak this, I am g^ I saw thee — peace be 
with tbee— forewell, and do not despise or overlook my services, or 
say poor sinful ofiers.' 

"Now," sud the ainiple- minded, but upright and unsuspicious maUi 
*' I do say, that was no erery-day offer. I would be glad to hear 
M'Clutchy make such an offer to any man \ for which reason, hera'a 
tittle Soloinon's health Once more, and long life to him I" 





KOTioH or qpouTUAi. TBnaa— TWO bxlioions bbttxb tham 

Wb believe our readers may understand, that although we have oar<- 
#elves taken the liberty of insinuating that little Solomon, as 
If lAiughlin called him, was not precisely.~~bat, we beg pardon, it is 
time enough to apeak of that yet. All we have to say, in the mean- 
tjne, ia, that Solomon's character, up to the period we aiteak qU waa 


not merel; spotless, but a baroing and a shining light in the eym of 
all the saints and sinners of the religions wortd^not only in Castle 
Guinber, bot in the metropolis itself. Solomon was an elder of his 
congregation, in which, SabbaHi ^^ Sabbath, be took his oBoaL 
prominent put aa collector ; raised the psalms ; sang kindest ; and, 
whenever the minister alluded to the merc^ that was extended to 
sinners, Solomon's groan of hmnility — of sympathy with the fiiul, 
and air despair for the impenitent— his groan, we say, under tliese 
varied intimations of goepel truth, was more tbao a eermon in itself. 
It not only proclumed to the wh<^e oongregaiion Uiat he was m 
sinner, but that he felt for nnnen, rejoiced in their repentance, 
which he often did in' a nondescript scream, between a groan and a 
dackle of holy joy, that sometimea startled the congregation ; but 
also wept for their hardness of hearty when. he imagined that it was 
likely to terminate in final reprobation, with such a patlielic fer- 
vency, that -on many stich oocawons, some of those who sat beside 
him were obliged to whisper, "Brothor M'Slimcyoa are too mnch 
OTercome-^too piously excited — do not allow yoorself to exhibit 
such an excess of Christian sympathy, or there will be many io- 
stanoes, among the weaker vessels, of reliqwes and backsUdings, from 
■ot nnderstanding that it is more for others thoo w4 feeling than for 

Solomon then took his hands from before his fkce, wiped his eyes 
with the handkerchief on which they bod been embedded, and with 
a serene and rather heavenly countenance, looked np to the preacher, 
then closing his eyes, as if in a state of etherial enjoyment, he 
clasped his hands with a sweet smile, twirling his thumbs and 
bowing his head, as the epcoker closed eveiy paragraph of the 

'' These observations account veiy pliunly for the opinions touching 
Solomon which were expressed by M'Loughlin. Solomon was at 
this time an unadulterated saint — a professor— in fact, one of tha 
Sleet who had cast his anchor sore. 

That night M*Lougfalin and his family retired to bed tot the first 
time overshadowed, as it were, by a gloomy prdsentiment of scniw 
change, which disturbed and depressed their hearts. They slept, 
however, in peace and tntnqnillity, free from those snake-like panga 
which coil themselves aronnd guilt, and deaden ita tendencies to 
remorse, wlulst they envenom its baser and blacker purpoaes. 

M'Slime himself at this crisis was beginning privately to feel Bomt 
of the vwy natural consequences of his own ofl-acknowledged tniixj 


THE lElSU AGENT. 1 :;) 

Pliil wlio h«a just left Consiitiiiion C'.'ra.Tc ;i T. -.v miDulea bcfoi-c 
Dtrb/s arrival, hnd not spro him thnt irorning. The day before ho 
halt called upon faia granilfuther, who lold bim out of the parlour 
-windoir to '* go to br— — ; ^'ou maj call to<tnorrow, 70U cowardly 
whelp, if yon wiah to Bee mf— but in the moanUmc" he added •• 
before, " go where I desired yon." 

rbil, who possessed a great deal of bia father's gelfiahneaa and, also. 
of his low cunning, but none at all of his ability, turned back indig- 
nantly nnd rode home again. He had not passed more tlmn nbonl a 
hundred yards from the avenue out into the highway, when he met 
Sbarpe, one of the heroes of the (^abin. 

We ahall not detail their conversation, which, of cour^ embraced- 
many of the oircuraslBucea connected' witL their duties, excepting » 
few inteijeotional impreoations which Fbil, in an occasional paren- 
thesis, dutifully bestowed npon hia grandfather. 

" So^ Sharpe, the foot Riraon made such a devil of h flghl, (Ihe 
iDfemal old acouDdrel)— «nd took tlte gtm," 

" Why, captain Phil, if he hasnt the strength of ten men, I'lt 
pever maiuBiivre on parade while I liv« — he's a bloody rascaL" 

" (A donble-distilled old scoundrel, and I wish the devil bad him)— 
be^a a had Inrd, Sharpe, Tool and all as lie is, there's no doubt of that. 
What did the priest do P" 

" Why, yoor honour, I can't say tliat he took much part in It, 
barrin' once that he went between us and the woman." 

" He had no right to do that — (the blaspheming old vagabond) — 
none at alt, Sbarpe, and he onght to tie prosecuted." 

" He onght^ captain, and will, I hope." 

" But, tfien, Sharpe, if we swing Harman, it will he enough, for 
Hanuan— (hell fiz for it, and that soon, I hope) — is another bad bird." 

"Oh, devil a worae, captain, but even if he e^apes hb now, vc'll 
manage him yet." 

They then came to a turn of the road, and found tlicm.ictvcs at n 
bridge, a little beyond which two roada met On approching, they • 
ohserred ap old woman sitting on a large. stone that lay a Utile 
beyond the arch. She was meagerly and poorly dressed, had no rn|> 
cm, her grey locks-were only Ijound by a red ribbon that enc>rr1cd her 
bead, but did not confine her hair, which floated in large masses about 
ber iboulderB — a circumstance that added to the startling vuhcuiFnc<' 
of cliaracter that appeared in her face, and gave to her whole person 
an expression which could not be overlooked. When they hod come 
up to witere she sat^ and were about to pass without further noticoi 


she alu-led up, ft&d, with steps snrpriungly rafud and fnll of eaargff 
■eised npon Fbil'i bridle. 

" Well I" she exdumed, ** Z saw jou going, snd I see yoa coming, 
bat you cannot tell me that he is deadr No, the death damp of his 
blaspheming carcase is not yet on the ur, becanse if it was," and 
she tamed her nose against the wind, like a hound, ** I woold snolF 
h. No, no ; he is not gone, but he will soon go, and what ■ cab^ 
logue of crimes will follow after him ! The mai^s oonscienoe is » 
gaol where every thought and wish of bis guil^ life and godless 
heart is a felon ; and the Uackest calendar that ever was spread 
before Grod is his. Oh ! I wonder do the chains in his canaoience 
rattle? they do, but his ears are deaf, and he doesn't hear themi but 
he will, and feel tbem too, yet." 

Phil, who had got alarmed at the eztracwdinary eaergy of her 
manner, as well as of her language, said, " What do yoa want, and 
who are yon speaking of?" 

"Who ami speaking of? who should I be speaking of, bat of old 
Deaker, the blasphemer ? — and who am I speaking to but the son of 
the ungodly villain who threatened to horsewhip the mother that 
bore bim. Do yon know me now?" 

" Let go my bridle," exclaimed Phil, "let go my bridle, yon cJd 
faggot, or upon my honour and soul Fll give you a cnt of my whip." 

" No," she replied, not a i*hit daunted, " no, Fm near my eightieth 
year — Pm old, and wrinkled, and grey — my memory forgets every- 
thing now but my own crimes, and the crimes of those that are still 
worse than myself. Old I am, and wicked, and oorepenting ; bnt I 
shall yet live to poor the curses that rise oat of on ill-spent life into 
bis dying ear, until liii very soul will feel the scorches of perdition, 
before its everlostJog tortures come upon it in helL I am old," she 
proceeded; "bnt I will yet live to see the son that cursed his 
mother, and threatened to raise his sacrilegious hand against her that 
bore him, l^d down like a tree, rooted up aod lopped — lying like a 
rotten log, without sap, without strength, and only fit to be cut 
up and cast into the fire. I am old," she continued ; " but I shall live 
to see out the gnil^ race of yon all." 

" Go to the devil, yon croaking old vagabond," exclaimed Phil 
raiung his whip, and letting it fall upon her almost naked shoul- 
ders, with a force as unmanly oa it was cruel, and impious, and 

She uttered a scream of anguish, and writhed several times, until 
her eyes became filled with tears. "My cup is not full yel,'* she 


•xcfa^med, sobbing i " neither is youis, but it soon will be. You 
knew me well wben joa f^ve tlut blow ( but go now taul see 
bow yotfU pro^>er after it." 

Shkrps, even Sharpe, felt shocked at the cowardly spiTit whieh 
oonld inflict such an outrage upon old agCi under any circunistftnces} 
but, much lesa, nnder those which eres he understood so w^ , 

" Captun," said he, '■ if it was onlj for the eredit <tf the Castle 
Cumber cavalry, Pm sorry that you gave that Mow. Those men on 
the other side of the rood there were loolcing at yon, and yoa 
may take iny word it will q>read." 

" How dare you speak to me in that style F" asked Phil, in a rage, 
uid arming himself of his anthority over him. " What is it your 
bosiness^ Sharpe P Sharpe, you're a wonndrel for qteaking to mc in 
this st^e. Damn my honour and blood, but yon are. 'What do you 
know about that old vagabond ^ 

" Captain," replied Sharpe, who was a sturdy fellow In bis way, 
" Tm no scoundrel ; and I do know that yon hare just borse-wbipped 
your notorious ould grandmotber." 

" Fall back," said Phil, " and consider yourself arrested." 

"Arrest and be buigedr replied Sharpe. "I don't care a fig 
about you. I was in Deaker's corps this many a year, and if you 
attempt to come the officer over me, let me tell you you're mistaken. 
We're not mi duty now, my buck, and you have no mote anlh<ffity 
over me iJitn yon have over the devil. Me, a scoundrel I My good 
fellow, I know who is the soonndreL" 

" My good fellow I Damn my honour and blood, do yon apply 
that to me ?" 

" No, I don't," said Sharpe ; " for you're a cursed bad fellow, and 
no gentleman, Otdn't Hannan pull your nose in Castle Cumber ? 
and yon wanted the courage then that yon had for your ould grand- 
mother. Me, a scoundrel V 

" m 1^ you what, Sharpe ; is this respect, sir, to your command- 
ing officer ? Sbarpe, III mark you out for this." 

"Don't you know," replied Sharpe, "that two of us can play 
at that game ? Ton bod better keep yourself quiet, if you're wise i 
a man tba^s in the habit of getting his nose palled should be very 

" Very well," said gallant Phil, " I'll sny no more, btit — ." He 
then put spun to Handsome Harry, and rode off, full of vengcnnce 
against Sharpe, and of indignation at the contumelious reception he 
had experienced at the bands of ht< grandfather. 



Val'H letter to M'Slime was, u our readers know, anythiag bat to 
index to tbe state of r^ord In which he held that worthy gentloniAn. 
Ab we said, however, that gronnd was beginning to break a tittle 
under his feet, in spite of all bis nnctaon and Christian chari^, we 
shall, while Darby is on his way to delirer his letter, take that 
opportoni^ ef detailing a conversation between honest Solomon and 
Poll Docdin, npon one or two topioe eonneoted with onr tale. 

" Sam," said Solomon to his derk, " yon were not preeaat with us 
-at prayer this morning I Tou know we do not join in fanilj woTf 
flbip until 70a come ; and it is but our duty to take an interest in 
your spiritual welfare. In the meabtime, I should i^^ret, for your 
own sake, that anything in the slu^te of a falling away from yonr 
opportunities should appear in yon. I speak nov as your friend, 
Sam, not as your master; nay, rather as yonr brother, Sam— r«s a man 
who is not without his own lapses and infirmities i bat who still trusts, 
Uumg^ not by his own strength — that he may be looked upon, in 
some faint d^rec^ as wo example of what a man, wrestling with the 
cares and trials of life, oaghl, at leaal, to strive to be. To Him be 
the praise V 

" I certainly overslept myself this morning air — ^that is the troth.'' 

" Tes, Sun ; sloth is one of the disguises under which the enony 
often assails and overcomes us. But to business, Sam. There is 
«n old woman in Castle Cumber, whose name I scarcely remember i 
she gops dressed ip faded black, and has a son, to whom, for wise 
purposes, of course, it has pleased Him to dony a full measore of 
ordinary sense ?" 

" Poll Doolin, sir, the old child-cadger, and her foolish son, Ray- 
mond of the hats." 

"Don't say foolish, Sam— don't say foolish; we know not well 
what the true differenep between wisdom and folly is, nor how mneh 
wisdom is manifested in the peculiar stale of this person. Wp kn^w 
not, indeed, whether what we blindly, perhaps, term folly, may not 
be a gift to be thankful for. Tou know the Word says, that tbe wis- 
dcon of man is foolishness before God. Our duty, therefore, is, to be 
thankful and humble.'' 

« Well, sir ; bnt about Poll Doolin, (he child-cadger ?° 

" Cbild-cadger I that is a term I don't understand, Sam." 

•' Why, sir, it means a woman who carries " 

" Sam, hold ; if it be associated with human finilty, it is bttt left 

unspoken. The woman, however, be she what she may and I know 

pot what she is, but that she is a responsible being — a partaker of our. 


mtaamoa nature, and is entitled to our sympathj. Sbe is, I under- 
ctand, in KHoe difficalty, oat of whioli, it seems, profesaional advice 
nw7 help to take her. I expect her, therefore) about this time i and 
irlU jon, Samuel, just stand at that window, and when 70a see her 
approach the honse, do just quietly, and without noise, open the hall 
door. Something has occurred to discompose the Christian tone 
which nsuallj preruls in our household ; and poor Snssona is going- 
Bat, at alt eycDts, Sam, you are aware it is Bud, that we ought not to 
let our left hand know what our right hand doeth." 

" I ksQw the text, sir, well ; it ends with—' and he that givetli in 
secret^ will reward thee openlj'."' 

' "He — hem— a-heml yes it does so end; heighol I feel, Sam, 
■lightly depressed in spirit as it were, and moved, as if somewhat of 
iny UBoal auppcnrt were withdrawn fnnn me." 

" Here Bba is, mr," stud Sam. 

*■ Very well, Sam ; please to let her in og quietly as may be, and 
tiien take this declaration to the back office, and copy it as soon as 
yon can — it is of importance. We should always endeavour to ren- 
der services to onr fellow cret^m^si" 

Is the meantime, Sam rery softly opened the hall door, and the 
next moment Poll entered. 

- Solomon, as usual, was certainly aeatod at his office, and held hia 
ftatnres oompoeed and serious to a d^;ree ; still, in spite of eveiy tiling 
lie coold dc^ there was an expression, half of embarrassment, and half 
of the very slightest perceptible tendency to a waggish — smile, vro 
can scarcely call it — but, whatever it might be, there it certainly was, 
betraying to Poll, in spite of all his efforts, that there was still the 
least tincture imaginable of human frailty associated with such a 
vast mass of sanctity. 

Polly, when she entered, took a seat, and loosening the strings of 
ber bonnet, raised it a littie, and, without uttering a word, sat silently 
looking in U'Slime's face, with a very comic and significant espres- 
^00 on ber own. 

** No, Pt^y," said he, with a serious smile, " no ; you are mistaken 
indeed~Jnul we all are, I grant you j bat in this case I am acting for 
another. No, no, Polly— I trust those days of vanity ar« gone." 

<* Well, then, what else am I to do ? I sent the reports abroad 
aboot MliOughlin and Harman's bein' about to break; and of 
H'Longhlin Pll soon have my revenge, by the way — I and soraebodj 
cise bare tbe Wain laid for it." zed oy Google 



" Polljr, it wu from no unchriflti&n spirit of ill will to them — for 
I tnut thst of such A Bpiiit I am inc&pable — but to prevent them^ 
bj an nnjiut act, from ntjnring, perhaps from mining others. That 
Is my motive ; bat, at the same time, the whole matter is understood 
to be Btrtctly confidential between jon and me." 

'* Don't 70a know, Mr. M'Slime, that when there was an occasion 
fi»r tmstin* me, I didn^t betray you to the world ?" 

<• No — ^you did not ; and it is for tliat reason that I trust yon 

** Ay, and yon may, too ; honour bright ia my motive. You 
remember the day you passed Darby O'Drive and me on. your way 
to H'CIutchy'B P Did I pretend to know yon then 7" 

" You acted then, Foil, with great and commendable discretion, 
which you will please to remember I did nbt overlook." 

" No," said Poll, " yon have behaved decently enough." 

" But observe me now, Poll ; if this report concerning the firm of 
M'Longlilin and Harman should by any possibility be traced to ua, 
or ratlier to yourself, and that you should be pressed to disclose it^— 
which, of course, you could not be ; but if a weak moment should 
ever come — it is best, then, to speak the truth, and put the saddle, as 
bey rather profanely say, upon Valentine M'Clulchy, the right horse 

"Upon H'Clutchyl why, bad as he is, be never opened his lipa 
to me on this subject." 

" But he did to me. Poll, because it was from Mm I first bad the 
suggestion; so that, in point of truth and jusUce, you are bound by 
your own conscience, of you ought at least— to lay it at his door— 
and say that now you underatand better" — he smiled a little as he 
uttered these worda— " but why don't you get a better bonnet ? that 
one is very shabby." 

« It's aisier said than done," replied FoQ, " the poor must always 
ixik poor, and will too." 

" There, then, are ten shillings. Poll ; bestow them on tlutt, or any 
other purpose you may prefer " 

" Thank you, Hr. M'Slime , troth in the little job I did for you at 
our first acquuntauce I found you — tiny way not worse than another. 
Weil, but you can't desave me now— I see it in your eye— yon have 
something else to say to me." 

« Oh, nothing to signify. Merely a serious young person would 
wish to remove for change of air tn some quiet nook until health — 


wbicb, inieed, i« the chief of temporal bleasiiige, might be lo- 

•■Man or woman 'f 

" A BBrious joong wcouaii, FolL" 

" I see, I we, Mr. M'Slime ; I know nothing more aboitt it." 

" PcJI, listen — I sliall no longer withhold oonfidence from jon in 
this matter — imfcfftonatelf n member of onr congr^atioa has bad a 
iroefnl fUL He ranks reiy high in it, and this is an act of the 
greater Christian frien^hip in me, inaamnch ai in nndertoking 
the management of this for him, I eertainlj nm great risks of 
•affiaring in my own repntation, I cannot name him, for that wooM 
be a breiach of confldenoe in me ; but yon an called apon to per- 
form the dntj required, and throng me he shall compensate yon 
for yonr tronble." 

" Very weU," replied Poll, " it most be done— and I can tell him, 
■wboerer be is, that he conld not come to any one that understands 
aoeh matters betther." 

i ''Chfod morning. Foil I Let me hear ironk yon as soonas jon cani 
Peace be with theel but, F<^ remember one thing, Harman and the 
M'Lougblins are going to America." Foil nodded significantly, bat 
made no reply. 

The moment she had gone, which she did by tbe aid of Solomon 
himself, who opened and ckwed the Iiall door alW her, with a quiet- 
uses of manner that seemed to communicate oil to the hinges them- 
aelvee, he touched the bell, and in due time Susanna looked in. 

" Yon rang, air f said she. 

" That arrangement is made," said he ; " so lar all is well, or nMtrly 
so — go now." Susanna immediately withdrew, the few wovds ha 
aaid seeming to have diffused sunshine into a face which appeared 
doubly serious. 

When she wns goue^ Solomon laid his head down upon the desk 
before him, au'l remuned in that position for some time. At length, 
without at all raising it, he bc^an to i^y his knuckles ag^ist the 
lid, with a degree of alacrity which would not have disgraced the 
activity of a sleight-of-hand man. He at last rose, drew a long 

breath, and wore a very smiling face; but this was not all O 

sanctity 1 O religion I Instead of going to his bible, as one would 
mmgine he ought to have done — instead of even taking up a psalm- 
book, and indulging in a spiritual song, he absolutely oommesced 
whistling that profane melody, the Swaggering Jig, which he ac- 

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4!amp«iued witli u nimble a foot, and in as good Unte, as if he haft 
been a dandng master all his life. 

" Ah t" sud he, " I could hare done it once, and would tike to do 
it still, only for this wicked and censorions world." A knock from 
Darby ODrive recalled him to a perception of his gifts, and, when . 
Darby entered, he looked calm and serioos as nsnsL 

Little could Darby have imagined, although perfectly aware <^ 
U'SUme^ knavery, that the pious little man had just concluded " a 
short exerciae," in performing the Swaggering Jig. As it was^ 
however, he found him in a state which might either be termed a 
relij^us meditation, or an intense ^tplication to business — a lnU» 
bring on the one hand, and a brief on the other i but to which o( 
the two he had devoted h&nself, neither Darby, nor, indeed, any one 
^tse, could gneoB. There, however, be sat, a kind of holy link 
lietween the law sad the gospeL 

When Darby entered, and delivered the letter, M'Slime on re-- 
ceiving it, eXcUmed, " Ah, from raj excellent friend, M'Clutchy 1 Bit 
down, Darby, sit down i and whilst I am casting my eye over this 
note, do now, in order that we may make the most of our opportu- 
iddes, do, I say, Darby, just read a chapter In this — " handing him 
over the bible as he spoke. In the mean tim« he read as follows :— 

" Strictly confidential. 
"Mt Dcab M'Sume, 

*< In order that the thing may be done as much in the ehi^ie- 
and form of a matter of business as possiUe, don't' yon think it would 
be as welt for yon, as Barman's lease has expired, to send me a 
regular proposol for it in writing — which proposal I may be aUe to 
show in justiAcatton of myrelf, should any thing unfhvoarable turn up 
afterwards. Barman's offer was just double yours, but that is burnt) 
of course yon will also bum this wben you have read it. Tour c^r 
of assistance to M'Loughlia was well thought of ; and even if we 
never, I mean you, shonld be p^d, you ue still a gainer t^ two 
hundred pounds. Each has ofiwed a thousand a-piece to have the 
leases renewed at the present rent i yon give five hundred—very 
good, sni^KMe yon lose three — that is, suppose MQ^ughlin is driven, 
as, please God, be «Aa// be, to allow you to accept a bill for three 
hundred — don't yon see that yon are still two hundred in pocket; no, 
I am wrong, not two but seven hundred. You can, therefore, well 
afford to lose three by the transaction, although, a^ I have sai^ it is 

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fiot, in point of fftct, lodag three, but gaining seven, or at leoat five. 
l^liit hu ttlso Bent me a written propoeal, which I will keep, but 
IS'IiOughlin's is gone the way of Uarman'a, as a matter of prtidence. 
Ab for the pTivate consideration between lu, tliat is onlj to be 
glanced at. I give yoa tny honour that Fhil has t«ndered me the 
two hundred, aa a private bonui, which I will not take, of coune, 
either &om yon or him until the premises are cleared of the present 
tenants. This must be done very soon, and, I think it is much to be 
-wished that Barman, who is a choleric scoundrel, should be out of 
the way if possible. If he is transported it will save us a good deal 
of annoyance. I should regret a meeting between liim and Phil very 
much. Phil tells me that he once pulled his, Harman's, nose, and it 
is very natural that he should bear him a grudge for it. There has 
been half a year's rent due for some time, and the term mentioned in 
tbe notice to quit expires next week. So far, then, all is right ; v, e 
have them in oar power, and can proceed safely. Parliament will, it 
id well ascertained, be certainly dissolved about tiie end of May 
next, so that we must work double tides at the Election. There is 
a devilisli spirit abroad, bowerer, which will occasion na much 
ttoublei but I cannot agree with yon about renewing the leasee, 
notwithstanding. It is just doing by those who are obstinate and ill- 
diipoaed precisely as we ought -, that is, holding a wh^ over their 
beads, and assuring them that we shall let it fall with rigour, unlc&i 
they are agreeable to oar wishes. The Hon. Richard Topertoe is in 
London, but, between yoa and me, it matters little where he is ; you 
may judge of what an intermeddling fool he must be, when he had 
the preanmption to ui^ his Lordship to come to his native land, and 
live on his estate. This d ' d Bibbonism and oatnge, in spite of 
all our effbrta, are still increasing i I think, however, that I shall be 
able to make a pounce some of these days. I have my spies at work, 
and, let me tell you, that, talk as they may about its treachery antf 
rascality, the spysystem is an admirable one ; in fact, it is like 
two-edged sword, and cots both ways, just as you wish. I^ for 
instance, yon cannot ^fiiid lUbbonism made to your hand, you may 
maJte it— 'that is, you can corrupt first, and betray afterwardsj whicli, 
at critical nunaeotSi is unquestionably (I say this between ourselves) 
a dedded advantage. By the by, my dear Solomon, the force of 
nJigion must be singularly strong and impressive in your life and 
conduct, when you have been able so wholesomely to influence that 
raaeal builiff of ours. Darby 0'Driv& I have seldom, kideed, never 
■inMSsed so sinking a change as you hare produ'^'id in him ; to tell 

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yoD the tniUi, I felt » little chagrined and jealous sbout il ; bat, M 
be owes ns a kind of divided alliance, I must reet contented. 
" BeUeve me to be, 

"My deorM'Slime, 

"Tonre aSectionalel; and iaitbTully, 

"Val M'CLDTcsr, J.P." 

To this, while Darby was, or pretended to be, tootb and nail at tha 
Bible, Solomon wrote the following reply : — 

"Mt Dear M'Ci.rTCHT, 

"I have just read your letter of this dute, and agree with you 
in the necessity and propriety of my aending yon a written proposal 
which yon can show at a future time, in order to justify yonrself, 
should it be necessary so to do. I also need not aay, thai your con- 
dact in destroying the proposals of Mlxiugblin and Harman was 
eijually creditable to your head and heart Prudence and discretion, 
my dear Vai, are not virtues of every-dny occurrence, and as to giv- 
ing the preference to a Christian friend, I do not see how a man as 
yon are, with a strong sense of religion, conld, without injuring your 
conscience, avoid ib What is it after all, my dear friend, but a 
spoiling of the Egyptians, as holy Hoses did when about U) lead tbe 
children of Israel from bondage ? In that case, it was what may b« 
termed, in these our days, a description of justifiable thef^ such as 
many professors ofthe Word, in matters of buainess, dofcelthemselvea 
warranted even now in imitating. It requires, however, to be done 
carefully, and within tlie freedom of the perfect law ; but, by no 
means, with a worldly or secular spirit, otherwise, it will be deprived 
of that unction which renders the actagracioas exemplification of our 
Christian privileges, instead of a departure from rectitude, whidi it 
would be, if committed by an ungodly penon. These are distinc- 
tions, my dear friend, which, I grant yon, it Is not permitted to many to 
make— only, indeed, I may humbly and fearfully say, to such as have 
by long wrestling with tbe spirit been able to see truth, when tha 
inward eye has been purged from the grossucsa of passion, for which 
to Him be praise, and power. Amen 1 

"1 herewith enoloee you the proposal formally made, and will be 
ready to hand over the two hundred Christian manifestations of my 
gratitude at the proper season. As to Lord Cumber being a loser by 
tbe transactiMi, snch a loss must have been, wo are boand to bcpc, 
shaped out for iiim as a punistmkcot inflicted for gradous { 

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It is tme he is ignorant of it, and I trast be rIirII reniatn so ; bnt, 
then, we know that many a bleaaing comes to ns in deep diagntse, and 
that many a diepenaalion, which we look upon aa a Tavour frt»n above, 
i* far from being 8& If, tiieii, it be true that this thing u Toucfa- 
■afed to him as a hidden blesaiogi let as be thankful that we have 
been aelccted as the unworthj jneans through whom he is made to 
ireceive it ; or if it comes to him aa a punishment, still it is «nr dutj 
to reflect that we are mereljr the instrumenta dinmgh whose frailties 
or virtnest aa the case ma^ be, he is visited, and that &om the 
beginning, this and many other acts which a blind, nnenli^tened 
world might cenanre, were ordained for ua, in cyder that the perfect 
scheme of Providence might be fulfilled. 

"With respect to the spy system, I do agree with you fully. 
ICany things must be done in a^ret, which the perversity of the 
world will not bear to hear of, without coounitting sin. For instancy 
my dear Yal, in sowing your crop of loyalty, so to apeak, it might 
not, periu^ be wrong — I am speaking now, observe, with reference 
to the cunning of the aerpen^ which you know we are enjoined to 
have, and if to have, of course to use when necessary — it might not, 
perhaps, be wrong I aay, to cast in a tare or two, if only for the pur- 
pose of employing our friends and fellow creatures to poll them out 
again. It is, as it were, giving the idle employment, and enabliog 
onraelva in the mean time to gather an abundant harvest into our 
own gamers. 

" With respect to Darby, I trust that if my unworthy example an^ 
earnest precept have been successful in rescuing him from the bonds 
of error and ein — but what is still more dangerous, from the dam- 
nable thrall of popery — it is not for me to vainly extol myself there- 
fore. Hb conversion, however, will, I tmst, be edifying to that 
interesting, but neglected class, the bulifb of Ireland. With refer- 
ence to them, I am engaged during the very few leisure honrs that I 
oan Steal— ao to speak — fiom my professional employment, in wnting 
a seccmd tract, especially for their improvement. It will be appro- 
priately called, ' The Bt^iff't Beacon, or a Strengthemer for Tender 
GmtcietueM : By their friend and brother Christian, Solomon 
M' Slime, Attomey-at-Law.' 

" Verily, my lines have been made to fall in pleasant places Ou 
Teaterday, I had the satisfaction to be appointed totit agent to the 
Beligiou^ Coemopolitan Asturanee Assodation, being a branch of 
the Grand Confident Spiritual Railway Society for travellera to a 
better world. The salaiy is liberal, but tiieappoiotment-^especially to 


1« VAtBNTWE M'cLDtfiHT, 

H man ttf sincere principles — is full of care and respcmubilitf. AHo* 
me, ID7 dear YaU to recommend 70a and jom friends to pnrchaw 
eharee in this Spiritual Bailwar Soclety-^it is, under Him, Uie safen 
of all assoculionB jut established. The arrangements are admirably 
adapted for Hk objects in view. All the seats are delightfully soft, 
and as somniferous as church pews, to #hicta the; bear A close 
resemblance. The machine-men, and aU those appointed to sitnationt 
tin the line, are moatlj in orders ; but belong to different denomina 
tions. The scheme originate in Oxfordi and has spread rapid]} 
throughout the length and breadth of the land. Several of the 
Btokeia are bishops, and the rererend feeden discharge their respef- 
tive duties with sisgular efibct. It is hoped, besides, that it may, 
under divine guidance, be tlie glorious means of bringing Popery 
within tlie influence of truth, whilst its enemies — for it haa enemies 
as who has not 7 — its enemies assert, that whether it shaU take in 
Popery, or Popery take in it, is a matter very difficult to be deter- 

" They are also exceedingly expert at tract writing, which they 
perform — if I may say so without boasting or vanity — very much in 
my own spirit. Poor Snaanna is tuling — I mean a serious young 
person in our family, who tended our little olive branches and under- 
stood my habits. She is leaving us and I shall miss her, for X am one 
of those persons, my dear friend, wiio have a heart for — and I trust 
may say, that can sympathize with — my fellow creatures, however 
immble. Do you remember tiiat I once avuled myself of a 
Christian's privilege, to mention between us the subject of family 

" I remain, my dear M'Clntchy, with, may I hope, a few of the 
graces of my caUiug — an earnest wrestler against sin, 


"Now, Darl^," s^d be, having folded the letter endosinit hb 
tender for Harman's texm, and banded it to him — *' now, that so much 
. is despatched, I trust we may have a word or two upon a sutgect of 
still higher importance. How do you feel in a spiritutd way ? — are 
your views as clear as ever P — are you supported— I mean inwardly, 
_jbr that is the only true support, after all r" 

" Thrath, Mr. M'Slime, I'm afeard to spake, sir, for fraid Td say 
uther more or less than the truth." 

» Tliat is a good sign. Darby ; but you must avoid profane swear 
ing, which is a habit you contracted when in.tlie bonds of iniqnltyt 



Int jtn most refonn it—or nther, grace will be given jon to refomi 

*< I hope so," replied Dvbj, " and that HI still get a cfearer know- 
ledge of the truth, plaiae goodness." 

Darbf, as he nttered these words, would have given a trifle to 
lutre had U'Clntefay to look at. Little did Solomon suspect the trtOk 
to which his convert alluded. 

" Haj it in charity tie granted I" exclaimed Soloteoa, alightly 
twitctung up his cTebrowa. " But, Darl^, wilt joa be properly pre- 
pared on next Sabbath (D.Y.) to bear strong testimonj against error 
and idotatrj ?" 

" Whjr, m do my best, air," replied Darby, " and yOn know the 
best can do no iB0fe>7 

"Well, bat you can fiiithiUty say that yon are utterly free from 
every tunt of Popeiy ?• 

*■ Faith, lar, I dont know that that would be a]t<^ther prudent. 
Did you never hear of the ould proverb, sir — not to throw ont the 
dir^ water till yon get ia the clone— Fm not sure that I have a 
tnfficient grip of the new lights yet," said Darby falling unconsciously 
into bis usual style of conversation, " but, I hope that by next Son- 
day 111 be able to shine — an', be my sowl, if I don't, sir, it'll be none 
o" my fawt — divil resave the purtier convert in Europe than 111 make, 
wbrai I come to know a little about it." 

" Darby " said Solomon impatiently, *' this is really very trying to 
<Hie 80 anxions for your spiritual welfare as I am. This awful sweai^ 
ing — I really fear that some of yonr light has been withdnwn amoe 
oor last interview." 

**Not at bU anlikely," replied Darby ; "hnt wid great sobmission, 
don't you think, sir, that two religions is bettber than one ?" 
« Bow do yon mean by adverting to such an impossibility P" 
*■ Why, sir, suppose I kept the onld one, and joined this new refi^ 
naUwi to i^ wouldn't I have two chances instead o' one 7" 

" Darby," s^d Bolomon, " avoid, or rather pray that you may be 
enabled to avtnd the enemy t for I fear he is leading you into darker - 
OTor. I ten yon — ^I lay Tinto yon — that you would be mncb better 
to have no religion, than the Popish. You have reminded me of ofle 
proTerb> sufier nu to remind you of another; do yoa not know, to 
^eak in a worldly flgnre, that an empty house is bettor than & bod 
tenant ? why I looked on yon with pride, with a kind of holy joy, as 
one whom I have wrestled for, and woo from the enczny ; but I feai 
yoa are reUpsing." 

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*< I hope in God, Bir," replied Darby very gravelj, " ibxt jen utd 
he won't hare to toss up for met for I feel myself sometimes on» 
tiling, &Rd lometiroee tbe other." 

" Ah r replied Solomon, " I fe&r I must give you up, and in that 
OBW it will not be in my power to employ yOn in a very confldentiul 
matter, the management of which I imagined I could have entrusted 
to yon. Tha^ however, cannot be now, as no one not amply proTided 
with strong religioiis dilpoeitionn, could be relied on in it." 

Darby, who, in fact, was playing H'Slime precisely as a skilful 
fisherman does hia fish; who, in order to induce him the more eagerly 
to awallow the biut, pretends to withdraw it from his Jawa, \j which 
means it ia certain to be gulped down, and the fish cflnght. 

"Ah, sir," replied Darby, 'Tm greatly afeared that every person 
like me must stru^le wid great temptations." 

" That is an excellent observation," said Sokmum { " and I do sup- 
pose, that since this dairable chsnge took place in your heart, you 
must bava been woefully beaeL" 

" Nerer snared so moch in uy life," rejJied the other. " Kow 
there's your two besotifnl tracts, and may I never die in rin — -' 
I hope, sir, therms no great hann in liat oath ?" 

" No great harm, but you had better omit it, however—it sswcks 
of sin and superstition." 

" Well, sir — may I never—X liog pardtKi ; but anyhow, t^ tnrih 
is, that ever since I tuck to readln' them, I fM myself gettin' aa 
dishonest as if the devil " 

" Do not name him so. Darby — it is profane ; ny the enmtjf, or 
Motan, or the tempter." 

. <* As if the whole three o' them, then, war U my elbow. Why, 
for the last three or four da;fs, I may say, they have cleared me out 
as clane of honesty, as the black boy himself ( and it is worse I am 
getdn*. Now, Mr, it stands to sense^ that ^oCs temptation." 

" ITnqaeationably ) and my great hope and consolation is, that you 
jnrarsetf are cmisciaus of it. All you have to do now, is to pray 
aBoeBsingly~-'Wre8tle in prayer, and yon will ultimately triumpli. 
Sing spiritual songs, tooi read my tracts with attentiocit and, in 
■hor^ if yom rasist tlte dev — hem — satan, he will aesmradly flee fr(»n 
yon. Give that letter to Mr. M'Clutchy, and let sae see yon on the 
day after to-morrow — like a giant refreshed with new strength." 

" Well now," said Darby, assuming a more serious look — " do you 
know, sir, that I think your words hat put new strength into me. 
Somehow 1 feel as if there was a load removed from me. May tbe 

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THE IRISH kGtSt. |0i 

uotW of heKTen — h«m — I do, sir ; and now, as a procf of it, I 
wouldn't feel juetiflod, sir, in leavin' jon, widout sajin' ■ word <^ 
two about the same M'Clut«hy, who, between 70a and Ue— bot I 
hope it won't go farther, sir f" 

" I Soa't think it would be permitted to me to betray oonfidence— 
I hombly think bo> Be not afraid, but speak." 

" Why, sir, he has gc4 a dirty trick of apeakia' disraspectfully of 
Ids behibd jour back." 

" Hnnutn weaknen, Darby I poor profligate man 1 Proceed— what 
does he My?" 

" Why, dr, If h 'nd foe agreeable to yon, Td rather not be goin 
over it." 

" We flhoiild know our friends finm our enemies, O'Drive ) but I 
frngirfl him, a>d shaft eaneitly pray for him this eight. What did 
he say?" 

" Why he said, rir — ^verily, thin, I'm ashamed to tay it." 

*'Did he speak only of my8ielfP"inquiied8olam(Mi, with something 
like a alig^ but repmsed ^pearaaoe of alarm. 

** Ob, of nobody else, sir. Well) th«i, he said, sir— bat, snre^ Vm 
onb^ repatin' his wicked wi^ds— ha said, sir, that if you were cut up 
into Qta sise of snipe shot, tbere would be as mudt roguery in the 
least grain of yon, as would oormpt a nation of pickpockets." 

" Poor man I I foi^ve him. Do you not see me smile, Darby 7" 

" I do, indeed, sir." 

" Well, that is a smile of forgiveness — of pure Christian for^re- 
ness — free &om the slightest taint of human enmity. I am given to 
feel this delightful state of mind at the present moment — may He be 
praised 1 Proceed." 

" It is a blessed state, sir ; and as you cui bear it— and as I can 
trnst jfou, what I could not him — I will go on 1 — he said besides, sir, 
that your example hod made the ould boy himself a worse boy now 
than he bad ever been before he knew yoO 1 — that in temptin' you, 
1m got new dodges of wickedness that he was never up to till he mdt 
yon, and that he's now reeeiTin' lessons ftom you in the shape of a 
convartin' parson." 

" Ah I welt->I see, I see — that is an unchriitiaB allaaion to my 
recent intercourse with the Rev. Phineas Lucre, the reepected and 
highly connected rector of Castle Cumber, and his nepbew, the Ber 
Boanerges Frothwell, both of whom take a deep interest in the New 
Reformation novement which is now so graciously advaficing. How* 
mtt, I sbaD pttf fur tiut man this a^fat.'' 



" Sir, I fti':! much relieved ; Tm % changed man widib these Tew 
minatei^ I may say— but what, i^her all, is aqnil to s good example 7 
I SmI, sir, as if a strong hatred of idolaphry waa oomin' an me." 

" Idolatry, you mean. Darby ?" 

« Tea, air, ^afs what I mean." 

" Where is that lelt^ of Mr. U'Clntchy'a — oh, I have It. Well, 
Dar1>yi'' Bud M'Slime, quietly changing it for another, " here it ia ; 
now, do yon see bow I commit that Utter to the fiames 7" placing 
SfClntchy^ nnder the ride of a brief ; " and even aa the flamea die 
away before your eyes, so dies away — not my resentment. Darby, for 
none do I entertain againit him — bnt the memory of hla offensive 

** Sir," said Darby, " this is wond^nl I I often hard of leligioii 
■nd for^veness of ii\}ariee, bnt antO this day I never saw them in 
their thme colours. The day after to-morrow Tm to call, sir." 

" The day after to-morrow." 

" Wdl) air, may the Holy Tirgin this day— och, indeed I do not 
know what Fm sayin' sir — ^Bellgion I well if that* a not religion what 
Is or con be 7 Good momin' sir." 

"Good morning. Darby, and remember my advice — pray, sing, 
wrestle — ^peace be with yon 1" 



Dabbt was opening the hall-door, when, as if struck by a new train 
td thon^t, he agun tapped at that of the office, and b^ged pardon 
for entering. 

" Fm in a sweet state, sir," BMd he ; " and wonld yon foi^ve me, 
aow that my heart is full by lookin' at sich an example, If I tuck the 
liber^ of snn' yoa to kneel down and ofier up a Father an' Ave an — 
bem— och, what am I sayin' — an' offer np a word in saison for tlia. 
■nfortonate blaggard, HKHntchy — any how, it's improve myself, and 
I feel as if there was new atreo{|;tb pat Into me. Ob, the netanwl 


Monndidl to ipkLe the vaj h« did of eich a man — sich a Bvaatlin of 
graof — of — (^ tben, do, air j let ns offer up one prayer for him, the 
vagabond V 

The render will perceiTe, howerer, by and by, that Darby's andden 
and enthoaiastia principle of charity towards IfClntchy, vanted that 
very rimple reqaiaite, sincerity — a commodity, by the way, in which 
the worthy bailiff never mnch dealt. Indeed we may say here, ttiat 
the olfject of his return waa connected with any thing trot religion. 

A shade of feeling, somewhat mefol, sat on M'Slime'a features, 
until be caught Darby's eye fixed upon him, wh^ after rebuking him 
for the terms in which he proposed the prayer, he koelt down, and, 
with a most serene smile, commenoed an earnest supplication, which 
became stall more vehement — then louder — he bewuled his lost state 
— depkncd his keeinng aloof from the means of grace—" feared that 
the example td his old, and sinful, and Uasphemona fatlwr, and his 
hmM profligate mother, had rendered his heart impenetrable to all 
visitationa of etaiacienoe or religion — if conscience be ever had, ot 
religion be ever heard} both of which, he, the humble and sinfiil 
suppliant, doubted. What then was his state 7 Oh I how could a- 
chariiable or truly reUgioos bout bear to think of it without being 
deeply affected" — handkerchief here appBed to the eyee, and aome soba 
— a nondescript sound &om Darby, accompanied by a most pathetic 
^hafcing of the sideft— evidently as much affected as M'Slime. The 
prayer waa then wound up in a long, heavy, dolorous cadence, which 
eiidently proceeded &om a strong conviction that he who prayed waa 
labouring against all hope and expectation that the hmuble "mean" 
then adopted would be attended by any gracious result — the voice 
ccmseqnently qnavered off into a most dismal sound, which' seemed, as 
it were, to echo back a d(^nl answer to their solidlations, and accord- 
ingly Solomon rose up with & groan that could not be mJsunderatood. 

** Tou see, O'Drive," sud he, " we have received no answer — or 
rvtber, a bad. one — I fear his is a hopeless case, as, indeed, that of 
every reprobate and castaway is ; and this distresses me." 

« iir. U'Slune," sud Darby, " will yon exeose me, sir — but the 
tbnith ia, I never properly knew you before." These words he 
uttered in a low confidential voice, precisely such as we might sup- 
Doae a man to speak in, who, under hia circuinstaacee, had got new 
couvictiona. " III appear next Sabbath, and, what is better, I think 
in a few days I'll be able to bring three or four more along wid me." 

** Do you tiiink so?" said M'Slime, a good deal elated at the thonght 
iar the attorney was only playing his game, which certainly was not- 



the case with the greater namber of the new Tefimnation roen, who 
were as sincere in their motireB as he was hjpocritica] in his exer- 
tions. " And what are their names, Darbj ?" 

" I feel, tar," rallied (yDrive, " that it^s mf duty as a Christian, 
brought out of the land of cordage — " 

"Bondage, Darby." 

" Of bondagO) to do sU I can for the spread o' the goepeL Their 
namea^" reloaded Darl^, rubbing his elbcw with a perplexed fare ; 
" don't yon think, sir, it 'ud be betther ta wait awhfl^ tiU we'd see 
what oonld bo done wid them privately r* 

" So, Darby, give me their names and residences, and I will see 
that, however hard the times are, they shall not at least be starred for 
want of — tmth." 

"Well, then," said Darby, "first, there is Paudeen Raffertj, of 
Demascohe; Faudeen, ar, is, at the present, spaking badly, giren to 
drink, and he swears and fights mortially, too, the hathen ; but, then, 
he's in i<jrfciiaMi^ gir, yet ; and you know that the greater tbe sinner 
the greater the saint. If Fandeen was dacently convarted he'd male 
a migh^ fine Christian no doubt. To be sure he has two wives, along 
wid his love for liqnor and flghtin' i but wouldn't it be a good plan to 
bring them over, too, sir ; the poo; lost crathnrs, sunk, as they are, 
in hathenism and vociferation 7" 

" Teiy good, I have him down. Darby i we mnit struggle, however, 
to win Idm over, and to induce him to give up his guilty connections. 
Are tiiey yoimg. Darby ?" 

" Two of the best looking young women in the pariBh." 

" We must only see, then, if thtjf can be rescued also ; for that is a 
duty — a pleasing dntj certainly.'' 

" But Fm afeard, ur, it 'ud take a ship load o' Scripture to eonvart 
the three o' them." 

" We shall try, however i nothing Is to be despaired of under such 
drcumstances, oniesa, I am a&«id, the legeneratioB of that unhappy 
man M'Clutchy~(eyes turned up). Who next?" 

" Why, you may set down Harry M'Hnrt, of Drindaka. Harry's 
ao unsettled kind of fellow, or as they call him, a rake. It would be 
an active charity to oonvart him— and that could eonvart him — for he 
has as many twista in him as an eel — if it was only for the sake of 
gettin' him to speak the truth." 


** Fut down Charley Casey, sir ; and if you take my advice, youll 
■et in at the oonvaruM of him while this famine last*— otherwiscb 



htt'a a bitter idol^ther u ever we]l«d an Onmgemaii } but, againat 
that, be bu the atoniach o* tbree men— «nd the best tame to come at 
him wid the goapel is the preaenb Bait it wid a flitch of bacKm on 
the one side, and a coUop o^ &eah meat on the other, now before the 
pratiea oomea in, and joa're enie of him." 

« Any othen, Darb; P — but, indeed, aa far ea we have gone yet, die 
eases appear to me (o be difficult ones. However, there is J07 in 
heaven, Darbj, over one ciasM''— and, inrel^, the greater the trin the 
greater the J07 and the triumph. Any others P" 

" Hoi^ down Molly Cradden, sir — she would be a glorious cateh 
if a wctrd in saison could fasten on her. She goes bj the name of 
Fnnny Eye. The poor woman is mother to a large family of childre, 
nr ( and the -wtxet of it is, that no two (^ them goes by the same 
nam& It would be a proud day that we could make sure of her, 
especially as Father Boche and Mr, H'Cabe, bis curate, were obliged 
to give ber np, and forbid her the parish ; but Funny Eye only winks 
and lai^bs at them and the world. She's the last, sir — but 111 be on 
the Uxik out, God willin', for a few more desperate cases to crown our 
victory over the dev — ahem I over satan and the priests." 

" Well, then, let me see you, as I said, the day after to-momw, and 
in the mean time ' peace, and joy, and victory, be with yon I" 

" The sante to you, sir, and many of them 1 Amin — I pray tbe 
sweet queen o' heaven this day 1" 

^ Darby," said M'Slime, who looked upon his mingling up religious 
exprosnons peculiar to his class as proof of his sinoerlty-.-" Darby," 
said h^ in a low condensed and collected vtdoe— " I said I had the 
execution of a ccnuniesion to entrust to yon." 

" But, sir," said Darby, whose ears, could they have shaped them- 
■elves according to his wishes, would have ran into points in order to 
hear with more acuteuesa — "sir," said he, "I doubt Vm not worthy 
of nch a trasU" 

"Perfectly worthy, Darby,'' continued Solomon, "if I did not 
think so I would not employ yon. I have engaged another person to 
prepare, as it were, the way for yon ; but the truth is, it would never 
do to allow that person and the young person of whom you are to 
take cha^ to be seen t<^ther. Evil coastruolions would most 
sssnredly be put on innocent actions, Dart^, as they oflen are ) and 
for this reason it is that I have partly changed my mind, and will 
•ntrost one half the CMumission I speak of to you." As if, however, 
he feared that tbe very walla might justify the old proverb by proving 
that they had esra, be stood up and whispered a short, but apparently 



most inlaresUng commualcation to DsrTiy, who appeared to listen to 
a tkle that was calcalftted rather to excite admiration than an^ other 
feeling. And we have little dcubt, indeed, that the tale in qneBti<»i 
was given aa illnstrating the exertion of as pare an instance of Cliria- 
tisn compaaaion and benevolence, as ever was manifested in the secret 
depths of that true pietj which shnns the light ; for Darby's joomey 
was most aesnredl^ to be made in the dark and atill hours of the 
night. On opening the door, a party of three of four clients were 
about to knock, but having given them admission, be went away at 
rather a brisk, if not a hastj pace. 

Darhy, having condnded this interview, was proceeding, not 
exactfy in the direction of M'Clntch/B, but as the read» shall soon 
hear, to a verj' Afferent person, no other than the Rev. Phineaa 
Lucres IXD, Rector of the parish of Castle Cumber i a living at that 
time worth about eighteen hundred a year. 

The Rev. Phineas Lucre, then, was a portly gentleman, having a 
proud consequential air stamped upon his broad brow and purple 
features. His wife was niece to a aobleman, through whose influence 
he had been promoted over the head of a learned and pious Curate, 
whose junior Mr. Lucre had been in the ministry only by the short 
period of twenty^five years. Many persona said that the Curate had 
bera badly treated in this transaction, but those persona must have 
known that he had no friends except the poor and afflicted of his 
parish, whose recommendation of him to his bishop, or the minister 
of the day, would have had little we^ht. His domestic family, toO| 
was lai^ a circumstance rather to his disadvantage ; bat he himself 
was of Btndions, simple, and inexpensive habits. As for dinners, he 
gave none, except a few fragments of his family's scanty meal to 
some bongiy, perhaps, deserted children, or to a sick labourer, when 
abandoned by his landlord'or employer, the moment he became unaUc 
to work. From the gentry of the neighbourhood he got no invitations, 
because he would neither sing, dance, drink, nor countenance the 
profliga<ue8 of their eons, oor flatter the pride and vanity of their 
wivea and daughters. F<a these reaaooe^ and becanse he dared to 
preach home truths frrau his pulpit, he and his unpretending children 
bad been frequently made ol^ects of their ridicule and insolence. 
What rights then, had any one to assert that the Bev. Mr. Clement 
had received iiyuatice by the promotion over his head of the Rev. 
Phineas Lucre, to the wealthy living of Castle Cumber, when he had 
noplansitde or just grounds beyond those to which we have adverted, 
«a whicb to rest his claim for preferment ? The Curate was pioa% 

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m admit, but, tlien, his wife's nude vas not a lord. He waa 
learned, bat, then, he had nmlher the power nor the inclination to 
repay bis patroiiB— aappoaing him to have such, — by a genius foi 
iDtrigQ^ or the pcwBession of political inflaenoe. He discharged his 
religknu dotiea as well as the health of a frame worn by affliction, 
toil, and porer^, permitted him '; but, then, he wrote no pan4iUeta 
adapted to those pditics by which he might rise in the church. He 
visited the side and prayed with them; but he employed not his 
alttlities in inroriag to the world that the Entablisbinent rewarded 
piety and learning, rather than venal talents for state intrigue or 
family influence. 

Par different from him was his aforenamed rector, the Rev. Phinev 
Lucre. Though immeasurably inferior to his curate in learning, and 
all the requisite qualificationB for a minister of Grod, yet was he suf- 
ficiently well rea4 in the theology of his day, to keep up a splendid 
equipage. Without piety to God, or charity to man, he possessed, 
hovever, fervent attachment to his church, and unconquerable devo- 
tion to his par^* If he neglected the widow and the orphan whom 
he could serve, he did not neglect the great and honourable, who 
coold serve himself. He was inaccessible to the poor, 'tis true ; but, 
on the other hand, what man exhibited such polished courtesy, and 
urbani^ of manner, to the rich and exalted. Inferiors complained 
that he was haughty and insolent; yet it was well known, in the 
teeth of all this, that no man ever gave mtnv ugnal proofs of humility 
and obedience to those who held patronage over him. It mattered 
little, therefore, that he had not virtues for the sick, or poverty- 
stricken, in private life, when he possessed so many excellent ones 
for those in whose eyes it was worth while to be virtuous as a pubho 

Mr. Lncre, possessing high political connexion, and withal aflect- 
ing to be very religions, presented singular points of character for 
ohaervation. lie was a great disciplinarian in theory, and rendered 
it imperative on his poor overworn curate to be so in practice ; but, 
hung always engaged in the pursuit of some ecclesiastical windfall, 
he, consequently, spent most of his time, and of his money, either in 
Mur own metropolis or London, but principally in the latter. He 
did no^ however, leave either his discipline or his devolion as a pub. 
lie man behind him. In Dublin, he was practical in worshipping 
the Lord Lieutenant j and in London, the Cing; wTiilat liis curate 
was only worshipping God in the country. The result of his better 
sense and more seasonable piety soon became evident, on his part in 



the 8lM4>e of an appointment to a wcond living ; and on tliat of Ui 
cnrale in obscurity, povertji and that nBeleu pSt, a good coasclence. 

We have said that Mr. Litcra waa noi pious j jet we were far 
from Baying that he had not bH the credit of piety. His name, in 
fatit, was alwBjs conapiouona among the most bountiful contributors 
to the religious sodedec Indeed he looked upon moat of them w 
excellent anxilliaries to the cold and scanty labours of those worldlj- 
minded or indoleut pastorsi who think, when they hare furnished 
every family in the pariab with a triUe and a sheaf of tracts, th^ 
(Ley have done their dulf. Mr. Lucre, consequently, bore an excel- 
lent character eveiywheie except among the poor, sick, and indigent 
of his two large parishes j and if a eulcginm had been called for on 
him, he would have received an admirable one lh>m the Beligiooa 
Societies to whose funds he contributed, from the gentry of hfe 
respective parishes, and from the grand juries of the two oountiee in 
which they were situated. 

What more than this could be expected? Here was ample 
testiniony for those who required it, to establish the seal, efficiency 
talents, integrity, charity, and piety of that worthy and useful 
minister of Grod— the Bev. Fhineas Lucre, D.D. 

Such were a few of the virtues which belonged to this gentleman. 
His claims for preferment were, indeed, peeuliariy strong ; and when 
we mention the political influence of himself and his friends ; his 
wift^s powerfiil connections, added to his able pamphlets, and the 
great mass of sound information regarding the state of the country, 
which in the discharge of his religumt duties, he commuDicated frmn 
time to time to the government of the day, we think we have said 
eucogh to satisfy our readers that he ought not to be overlooked in 
the wealthy and pious Establishment which the Irish Church then 
was. Still, in fact, we camiot stop here ; for, in good truth, Mr. 
Lucre bad yet stronger claims for preferment than any we have yet 
mentioned. Ha did not ttrntd in need ofU. In addition to a large 
dowry reodved with his wife, he possessed a private fortune of four- 
teen hundred pounds per aannm, with which, joined to his two large 
livings, he was enabled to turn out a very primitive and apostolic 
equipage, such as would have made the hearts of the Apostles rejmoe 
in reflecting that so many new virtues were to spring up in the pro- 
gress of taci&tj fnm the lowly religion they established. 

Such is a pretty full sketch cX a large dass wluch existed at a 
former period in the EetaUisbed Church of Ireland. Ur. Luirro 
was, besides what may be termed one of the first fruits of that 

TBI nuflH AQurr. 171 

which u called modem Muictit; or SmntsHqt, beiog about t*o Uurda 
of the Tory and High Chuichman, and one of the Enuig«Uoal. 

la the same parish of Cuile Camber resided two other cle^Tmen 
of a difiereat creed and character ; the Ber, James Boche, the vene- 
T«ble paiish priest, was one of those admiraUe pastors, whose lives 
are the ntost touching and beautiful exponent of the ChristiaD £aith. 
In this amiable man were combined all these primitive virtoes which 
are so soitable, and, we maj add, neoessaij to those who are called 
upon to mingle with the cares and affections, jojs and sufferings, of 
an humble people. Without pride, beyoud the serene simplictty 
which belonged to his office, he jet possessed the power of engaging 
the afiections and respect of all who knew him, whether high or km. 
With the poor, and those entrust«d to his ■pirilnal charge, were all 
his sympathies, both as a man and a pastor. His, indeed, was no 
idle charge^ nor idly, nor with ooldnesB or pride, were its duties 
entered upon or performed. His little parse and small means wer« 
leas his own than the property of the poor around him ; his eye was 
vigilant ai want and of sorrow, of crime and frailly ; and wherever 
the painful rebnkei the humble, and the consoling word was ne- 
cessary, there stood he to administer iU Such was Father Boche, as 
the pastor of a large hot poor flock, who had few sympathies to 
expect, save those which this venenble man was aide to afford than. 

Vsiy difibrent from him, on the other hand, was his curate, the 
Ber. Patrick hfCabe, or H'Flail, as he was nicknamed by the 
Orangemen of the parish, in consequence of a very ansaoerdotal 
uaidencj to use the horsewhip as a last resouroe, especially in cases 
where reason and the inflnence of argument failed. He was a 
powerful young man in point of physical strength ; but, as hii 
temperament was hot and choleric, the conseioosness of his strength 
often led him, under it* impulse, in desperate cases, to a mode of 
reasoning which, after all, no man more than himself subsequently 
regietted. Zealous he unqueationaUy was, but bey<B>d the bounds 
prescribed by a spirit of Christian moderation. I know not how it 
happened, but the Orangemen hated him with an intennty of detea- 
taUon, which, however, he paid back to them tenfold. His vast 
•trerngth, which had been much improved by a strong relish for 
athletic exercises, at which he was unrivalled, when joined to a 
naturally coorageous and combative temperament, often prompted him 
to manifest, in cases of self defence^ the possession of powers which 
ihej feared to call uito exercise. This dispoution, however, whirth, 
after all, was not so unnatural, he properly restrained and kept ia 




sut^aetion i but, in order to oompenBate for it, he certainly did pepper 
theno, in >U8 polemioal disconrBee, with a vehemence of abuse, which, 
Dnqueetionablj, they deeeired at his hands — and got. With the ex- 
ception of too mach seal in religions matters, his conduct was, in 
every respect, correct and proper. 

To return now to Darby, whose stepa have teen directed, not 
exactly towards Constitution Cottage, but towards the spacioua 
glehe-house of the Rev. Fhineas Lucre, which brought him abont a 
mile or two out of hia way. The fact is, he was beginning to tire of 
M'Slime, who, whenever he had occasion for his services, was certain 
to ibear him ttf hia fees on the one hand, precisely u M'CIutchy did 
on the other. The change of agents was, consequently, of no advan- 
tage to him, as he had expected it would ; for such was the rapacity 
of the two harpies, that each of them took as much as they could out 
of the unfortunate tenants, and Left Darby little to oomfart himself, 
with the exception of what be got by their virtooua example— an 
example which he was exceedingly ^t to follow, if not to exceed. 
For this reason he detested them botli, and, consequently, felt a 
natural anxiety to set them together t:^ the ears, whenever he thought 
the proper occasion for it sliould arrive. Now, an event had taken 
place the very day before this, which opened up to his mind a new 
plan of operations altt^ther. This was the death of the under gaoler 
of Castle Cumber. Darby b^an to think of this as a good specula- 
tion, should it ancoeed; but, alasl upon eecoud reflection, there stood 
an inaarmoontable difflcnltr in his way. He was a Roman Catholic 
so far as he was anything; and this being a situation of too much 
trust and confidence at tiie period to be given to any ooe of that 
persuasion, he knew he could not obtain it. Well, but here again he 
was fortunate, and not without the prospect of some consolation. 
Xbo eAraordinary movement in the religious world, called the New 
Reformation, had jnst then set in with a livelineiis of judgment, and 
a celerity of converuon among the lower classes of Roman Catholiee, 
which scarcely anybody could nnderatand. The saints, however, or 
evangelical party, headed by an amiable, benevolent, but some- 
what credukms nobleman, on whose property the movement first 
oommenced, ascribed this extroca'dinary conversiou altogether to 

The season, to be sure, in which it oecarred, was one of unprecc- 
dented destitution and famine. Fuel was both scarce and bad ; the 
preceding crops had failed, and food was not only of a deleterious 
quality, but scarcely to be procured at aU. Tbv winter, too, was wet 

r^cinzedoy Google 

TDS misn AGENT. 175 

Wid ttonaj, Bnd the deluges of rain dailj and inceiwuit. In fact, 
flold, and nakedneas, and hunger met together in ahnoat ererj honae 
and erery catun, with the ezceptioa of those of the fannera alone, 
irlw^ hj the way, mostly held land upon a reiy small scale. In this 
^strict, then, and in such a period of calamity and mtaery, and otter 
famine, did the movement called the New Reformation originate. 

"Sure, blood alive," thoogbt Darby, "now that every one'a tumin't 
therms no harm to have a thrial at it myself; I can bec(»ne aa good 
a Frodestan as meet o* them in foor-and- twenty hoors, and stand a 
chance of (he Jailorship for my pains. I'll go to Bfo Lncre^ who is 
a gintleman, at any nte, and allow him to think he has the convartin' 
tf nwa WeU," heproeeeded, with a chocUe, "it's oac comfort, devil 
■ much religion I have to lose i and another, that the devil a much I 
have to gaia ia exchange; and now," he went on, "there's little 
Sdhaaoa thinks I didn't see him bomin' the wrong letther < hot faith, 
Solomon, my lad, there most be something in it that would do neither 
yon nor M*Clotchy mnch good, if it was known, or yon wouldn't thry 
that trick ; but, in the meantime, Tve secored them both." 

How, the reader most know, that Darby's retnin in ancfa a truly 
diaritable spirit to ask Sol(»non for the virtue of his prayers in behalf 
ef l[*Clntchy, was as knarish a mae as ever was pot in practice. 
Stdomon had placed M'Clutchj's letter secretly under a brief, as ve 
have said, and Darby, who knew Ok identical spot and portion in 
which M'SIime was in the habit of praying, knew also that he would 
kneel with his back to the desk on which the toief lay. It all hap- 
pened iffetiaely as he wished ; and, accordingly, while Solomon was 
doing the hypocrite. Darby did the thief— secured the kttei^-and 
having let in those who were approechio^ he came away, as we said. 

He lost not a nMxnent, sAer he had got to a lonely part of the road, 

in potting thesn between two flat stones—we mean M'Clutchy's letter 

to Sokonon, with that gentleman's answer. There he detennined 

ibey should remain ontil after dark, when he could secnre both wilh- 

* oat risk, and see what might be done with them. 

"Now," thought he, "that Tve Solomon in a doable pickle — for 
be can't inquire aboot the letter without letting it be seen that he 
toold a lie, and practised a tnt of knavery, any how i an' aa t^ardin 
the other tlun^ I have him fast" 

la the meantime. Father M'Cabe, who had read M'Slime's para- 
graph in the Castle Cumber " True Blue," respecting Dartre con 
rawH^ bad a sharp eye out for him, aa they term it in the country. 
Jadaed, after two or three vun attempU to see him, the reverend 



gentleman was aatUfied with aending liini a gentle messagfl (^ eoii' 
gratnlation opon his chftage of creed, which was signiJicantl; wound 
up by a slight hint that he might, probably on their next meeting 
giv« him a nice treat, bat of what particular deecription, was not 
Gommonicated. Darby having left the letters in a place of safe^, as 
described, was proceeding at a pretty qniok pace towards Mr. Lucre's, 
when whom should he meet in a narrow part of the way, which was 
enclosed between two immense white-thom hedges, through which 
any notioB of escape was impracticable — bnt the Bev. Father H'Cabe. 
He tried erery shift ; looked back as if he expected some friend to 
follow him-— then to tlie right — again to the left — then stooped to 
examine the ground, as if be had lost sometiting of valne or import- 
ance. At length, finding every other trick useless, he adopted that 
one so c<Hiunoii aaamg boys in desperate cases— 'We mean the attempt 
to make a mask of the right shonlder in order to conceal the face. 
Even this fioled, and he found himself compelled to meet the fixed 
and stem gaae of the coloaeal priest, who was on horseback, and bore 
in his huge ri^t hand a whip that might, so gripped, have tamed a 
bufialo, or tJie oentaur himself, if he were not fabulotts. 

"Why, my good, honest, and most religions friend, Mr. Darby 
CDrive — the odour of whoee aanctity, you BOonndrel, has already 
perfumed the whole parish — is it possible that Proridonce in kind* 
ness to me, and in pure justice to yourself, has thrown yon into my 
way at last?" This, for the present, was accompanied only by a 
peculiar quivering motion of ^e whip, resulting fn>m the quick 
vil»ations which his sense of 'Durby'a hypocrisy had communicated 
throngb Hk hand to the weapon which it held. 

" Ood save your leverraiGer replied Darby, " an' in troth I'm glad 
to see yon look so well ] Aith i^s in a glow o* health you are, may 
God continue it to yoal Be my sowl, it's you that can pepper the 
Orangemen, any how, your reverence ; and how is Father Roche, sir? 
aldtangb, sure enough, he's no match for you in givin' it home to the 

" Silence, you hypocritical sleeveeB ; don't tkink youll cre^ up 
my wrist, as you do up M'Clutchy's and H'Slime's. Is it true Ihtl 
you have become an apostate?" 

Dart^ here attempted to work up a kind of sly significant wbeefiing 
expression into his eye, as he bUAb a half timii, half conAdent glance 
at the priest ; but it would not do — the effort was a fulra« ; and n« 
wonder — for there before him sat the terrible catodust like an emhv 
died thunder cloud — red, lurid, and ready to exidode; nay he ewld 


•ee tbe very Itgbteniog pittjiug and acitttilUting in his eyes, jnst as 
it often does about th« dond before the boreting of the peal. In 
this ioatance there was neither sympathf nor oommimitj of feeling 
betweeen Uiem, and Darby found that no meditated expoei^n of 
piona frand, such as "quartering on the enemy," or "doing tbe 
thieves," or any otber interested nue, had the stighteat chance of 
being tolerated by the nncompromising curate. The consequence 
was, that the rising roguery died away from Darby's face, on wliich 
thrae rentaiasd nothing but a blank and baffled expression, that gave 
strong assuraBoe ot his being in a sitnation of great perplexity. The 
moat timid and cowardly aliimal* wiD, however, sometimes turn upon 
th^ (^ptoia, and Darby, although he felt no dispodtfam to bandy 
words with t^ curate, resolved notwithstanding, to abide by tbe new 
creed, nntil he shonld be able to asontain his chance of the jailer* 
■hip. There was becddee, another motive. He knew Mr. Lucres 
character so well, that he determined to pursue such a course, during 
tliis interview, as might ensure him k sound horse-whipping ; fbr it 
occurred to him that a bit of martyrdom would make a capital open- 
ing argument daring his first interview with that gentleman. 

** Did yon hear me, sir P" agun inquired Uie curate, making his 
whip whistle past his own right foot, jnst aa if he had aimed it at the 
stirrofh— " is it true that yon have tnmed apostate ?" 

" I thon^tt you knew it, sir," said Darby, " or if yon didn't why 
did yon 'read mu wt the Sonday before last from the althar?" 

" Then yon acknowledge it," cried the priest i " yon have the brass 
to acknowledge it, have you?" And here the whip mode a most 
ferocious sweep in the air. 

*■ Te^" replied Darby, thinking by the adnuBsion to increase the 
impending castigation— " yes, sir 1 1 dont belong to gowjloek now— 
yoa have no authority whatsomever over me— mind that." 

*' Haven't I, indeed, Mr. Convert — oh, what a sweet convert yon 
aie — but well see whether I have or not, by and by. Vbere are 
you bound for now ? To taste of Mr. Lucre's flesh-pots P eh ?" 

*' Vm bound for Mr. Lucre's, sate enough ; and I hope there's no 
great harm in that." 

<' Oh, none in the world, my worthy neophyte, none. Mr. Lucre's 
argnment and Lord - ■- 's booon are very powerfal during this hard 
season. Those that haven't a stitch to their backa are clothed — ^those 
that haven't a morsel to eat are fed — and if they haven't a fire, they 
get ptentj- of fuel to bum thetr apostate shins at ( end because this 
heretical crew avail themselvef of tlie destitntion of these wretches— 


and lure tbem from their own faith hj a blanket and a flitch of ttacofi, 
they call that convenioik— 4lie New Bafonnation by the way ! ha — 
ha— ha— ob, if a too good V 

" And do jon think, sir," aaid Darby, " that if thtj had a hard or 
an enlightened honlt of thefr own creed, that that wo&Id do It ?" 

The whip here described a circle, one part of wboee circrnnference 
■aag within a fflw inches of X)arhj'8 ear — who, forgetting his relish 
for martyrdtno, drew back hia head to avoid it. 

" None of yonr back jaw," said H'Cabe ; " don't yon know, sirra, 
that in epite of this Methodist Lord and the prond pHraona* tempta- 
tions, you are commanded to renonnee the deril, the world, and ii* 
fieik 9 Don't yon know th&t c* 

" But," replied Darby, " are we commanded to renounce the devil, 
the world, and a bit o^ fresh mah ?" 

"Ha — yon eniveUing aconndrel,'' iidd the Cufate, "yon're got 
their arguments already I se^^bnt I know how to take them out of 
yon, before yo« leave my handa." 

** Snrelyi" continued Darby, "yon wouldn't have a naked man ra- 
nonace a warm pair o' breechea, or a good coat to his back — does the 
Scripthnr forbid him that ?" 

" You will have it," replied the Cnrate, who felt for the nxxnent 
astounded at Darby's aadac!^; "yon are determined on it} but 
I will have patience with yon y«t a Htde, till I see what tvoaght 
yon over, if I can. Don't yon adn^ as I said, that yon are com- 
manded to renonnee the devil, the world, and the flesh — particn- 
laily the flesh, sirra, for there's a pecoliar stress laid upon tiiat in 
the Greek." 

" Well, but does it go in the Greek against a flitch o* bacon and a 
wisp 0^ greens, yonr reverence 7 Faith, biggin' your pardon, if you 
were to see some o' the new convarts, how comfortable they are wid 
their good friese coats, and th«r new warm bUnkets, sittin' beside 
their good fires, you'd maybe not blame them so much as yon do. 
Kwr religion, sir, only provides for the sowl ; but thrir's, yoO see, 
provides any how for the body— and, faith, I say, the last b a great 
advantage in these hard times." 

The priest^s astonidunent increased at the boldness with which 
Darby continued the argument^ or rather, which prompted him lo 
B^^ at all. He looked at him, and gave a smile. 

" Well," Bud he, almost foi^tting his anger-^or he was by no 
means deficient in a perceptioa of the humorous—" but no matter- 
It will do by and I7. Ton villain," said be, forced into V3«a& 

01 Google 

.V Google 


■IHrit of the Ufoment i " do yoa not know that it is a 

1m who becometh an iipoitate, and emteth the fleeh of herotice." 

" Aitin' the flesh of heretics is forbidden, I dareu;, anre enough,* 
replied Darby t " an', troth, it's a ecHnmandment not likelj to be bn>- 
ken — for a dirtf morsel the^d be, God knows; hat is there anytiiing 
aud against aitin' the flesh of their sheep or cows — or tluU forbids us 
to have a tonoh at a good fat goose, or a toikey, or anj harmless 
Uttfe trifle o" the kind? Troth mjBdf never tUoi^ht, sir, that beef 
or mntton was of an; poiticnlar reQgion before." ' 

"Tea, rir; beef and mutton, when thej're good,. are Catholic — 
bat when they^lean, why, like a bad Christian, they^ Froteatant. 
of conrae, and that's well known," sud the priest, still amraed, agaiiiH 
Ida willt by Darhj's'argninients. 

*■ Faith, and wid ^reat respect, the same is hut a poor argdment 
for our own — hem — I mane, sir, for your church ; foE if the beet becT: 
and mutton be of the thhie religion, the Protestants have it allto 
nothing, lliere, they're infallible, and no mistake. The fat o' the.' 
land, yoor leverence," said Darby, with a wink '; " don't y<m nnder- 
•tand? They've got that, any "how." 

A slight cut of the whip across the shonlders made him jump and 
nb hinueti^ whUst'the'pciefiti'stru'ek'with his tdtet 4r^t of prind|de, 

* You donble-dakling scounclreU- Low 'date yba wink at me, as if 
we felt any thing' In commou ?" ■ ; 

The blow ooeasianed IHirbfa goige to riae j for like every other 
knave, when const^ous of his own -dishonesty and ita'detecttcHi, ho 
felt his bad passiong overix>wer him. 

" Ton iauat,^ Baid the priest, whose flngep was now exdW hy his 
extnwrdinary assuranoe — "yoii most Tenoance thur* re&giiMi-^you 
mnat renbunce M'Slime - and Ene ro ' th e ir flitdies, faanete, and 
fiiecea. You miiat-^ — " . ■' ■ : ; . ' ' 

"Bt^in' your pardon,' aald Darby, **I never received any of their 
flitches or tlKir flannels. I don't stand in need o' them — ^i^s an en- 
lightened, indepindent convert I am." 

"Well then," continued the priest, "you most bum th«r tracts 
and their treatises, their books and bibles of every deseriptioHf uti 
return to your own eharGh." 

••To become acquainted," replied Darby, "wid that piece •' 
doctrine in yonr hand there? Futh and I fitl the truth o' that as it 
is, your mverence ( and it is yourself that can bring it home lo one. 
But, trhy, wid sohmifision. don't you imitate Father.Rocbe^ Be ng 


m TALBSTnn h'clotcht, 

■owl, I tell 70D to jonr &oc^ tbst 90 long h jan take jcmr iMidlT- 
iVom the aitddlei's sht^ so long jga will faiiTft obe^init meK* Imt iar 
iliflBiniint Oatholiu." 

" What r* nfKed flCCab^ in • nge t " do 7911 due to om nA 
lupuf^ to my &obp~-4 npnd«ta— ft bruen eontmimiioM ^xistata I 
Tve bad tlui t'lt for 7011 ; ud now (btn he gave him « mmd half 
dosan) ga off to If'^ma^ and iMore, and Lord ■^-m-, aad whan yon 
see fiMs, tttll them item ma, that if thef don't giro op pentiitng 
mj flock, ni ^ve them enou^ of their own gasoA." 

Dart^i faoe got p^e with a noat deadly e^mtuon of ntga -an 
expreaiion, indeed, go reij diffirent from that oring^g, cneping aat 
which it nsnalfy won^ that ICGahe, t» looluiig at him, felt atartled, 
if not awed, intrepid and exasperated ai he waa. Darbj stood and 
looked at him coldlj, bnl, at the aame time, with nnflincbing fiBMlcea- 
neaa, in the ftee. 

"Ton have done it," he said, "and I knew jon woald< Now 
listen to me — ai« jon not as aiger to make connrta aa cUImt 
H'Kima or Lneie ?" 

" Ton will have it agtun, jon soMindra]," aaid tiis onrate, iprnwdl^ 
^ him with nplififtd wliip> 

"Stand badk," atid Darby, "Vn jist got all I wanted fltiaad 
back, or by all the Testmenta ever yon wore, if your wh^ M1I9 
tonehee my body as tight as if it wouldn't bend a feather, FU hnve 
yon in another world before yon can ciy ' Giod £orpye me.'" 

The other atill advaaoed, wd was abont to let the whip CtU, i^iea 
Daibj atntehed hia right hand befera him, holding a cooked ant 
loaded pistol presented to the curate't breast. 

" ^ow," said he, " lat your whip fqll if yon like ; bnt if yon do^ 
rU lodge this bnllati" tosebing the pistol with his Jdi ftwefinger, ** in 
yonr heart, and year last mats il Mid- Ton blame Loare and 
U'Slime for makin' conrarts ; bnt aren't you every bit aa autiona t)> 
bring over the Froteataats as they are to bring over ut f A>en't 
yon paradii^ thorn Sunday aftW Snndayi and boaatin' that 
yon are *«^"ff more from the heretiea, t^im thOT an t^in' frat|i 
you ? Wasn't yonr hut convert Bob Beat^, that 70a biooght over 
beeansa be had the Fallin' Sickness, and yon left b span biw never to 
enter a church door, or taste bacon ; and now yon ham him that waa 
a rank Orangeman and a Uood-honnd dx weeks ago^ a sennd 
Orthriie to-day? Why, yonr rererepoe, with regard to oonvart 
makin*, dlvil the lalst taste o* differ I see between* yon on either sid^ 
only that they are able to giro betther valne in this world for tha 


chMige Hum yoa an, that's all. You're Burpriaed at Heln> aa; ^tols ; 
hit, 4^ late, 1 doa't go anjwh«re snpronded ; for, to tell yon tbe 
ttnth, eiUur as a bailiff or a i»ni««rt, if ■ Dot likal; I'd b« lafe villi- 
out them ; and I think that yon jonrself are a Teij good proof of iL" 

" Vary well, mj good, aae, pi«s oPBWTt, M keep my ey© on you- 
1 anderstand yonr piety." 

" And I can tdl yon, my good, njua^i pious priest, fU ktep miua 
on yon ; and dot pMB on if you're wiae, and lo hunotk iath."* 

Bach, tbeo, paaaod on, pursniRg hie re«peotive desiinaUoR. Th<!r 
bad imA gone ftr, howerer, nhea boUi chaoood to kxA imk at tiia 
■mie nfHneat— M'Cabe shook bis whip, with a &ow», at Darby, wh<^ 
on the Dtker tide, aignifioally braehod the pocket in wluph be owried 
his flre-arma, and nodded his head in retonu 

Now, it is an nndeniaUie fact, that characters simiUr to that of 
Darby, were too common in the country ; and, indeed, it is to bo re- 
gretted that they wcve emi^oyed at all, inasmncli as thff inwijff^^ffl of 
tlieir conduct, on the one hand, did neoriy U much harm as th« 
neglect of the hard-hearted landlord himself, on the other. Bo thif 
as it may, however, we are bound to iaj that Darby dsserred wuch 
more at M'Cabe's bands than either that Ber. gwtieman .was «wf»« 
of then, or onr readers now. The truth was, that no aoon^ bad 
M'Sluntfs pkragn^h, touching Darby's Qonversion gone alwoadi tbas 
he became highly niqiopular among the Catholics of the pari^ 
Father HKiJabe, in oonseqnence of his coodnct, and taking hbn as a 
^tacimen, uttered awne lively prophecies touching the ultimate fate t^ 
the Hew Kefoimatitxi. He even admoniahed his flock Against Darby t— 

" X have warned yon all now," ho laid, "asd if, after tiaa, I hew 
of * single perreisien, voe be onto that porrat, for it 10 better fw 
Us miaarable sonl that he liad never been bom. Is Oi&te » nan here 
base ew)iigb to sdl his birthright for » dmbs of fir, Lucre's pottageP 
Is there a man here, who is not toe atrongly imbued with a hatred of 
kere^, to laagfa to soon tkeir bribes and (heir bibles ? £f ot a man ; 
«r, if there is, let him go ontftom amoogst va, In order that ve may 
know him ; that we may avoid hie out-goings and his in-eomings ; 
that we may fiae from him as a pestilence, a plAgue, ft famine. No, 
there is none iieresobaae and nnprinclpledasallthat; and I here pro- 
phesy that, from this day forth, this Befonnation has got its death 
blow, and that time will prove it. Now, reBumber, I warn ypu 
t their arbs their bribei^ and their tevptalionB ; and, if as 1 

• My blci^g t>« with jou. 



•aid, taty one of tbii flock shall prove bo wicked as to join thfloif 
then, I say ag^n better for his nnfortimato soul that he had iwTer 
come into existence, than to have act or part in this leprous and 
pollated beceay * 

Darbjr having beard — for he never irent to maas — that he was de- 
noonced by the priest^ and feeling that his carrying into execation 
the heartleas and oppressive proceedings of ICCIntehy bad, taken 
K^ether, certiunly made him as unpopolor a man ae any individoal 
of bis contemptible standing in life could be, resolved, in the firet 
places to carry arms for bis own protection, and, in the next, to take 
a step which he knew would vex the curate sorely. Aooordingly be 
lost no time in circulating, and having it circulated by othata, that 
tbe gn»t Reformation Society would give, in a private way, five 
^ineas a bead to every convert, taking them dtber by the individual 
or the family, although the converaioD of tbe latter, be S^d, was far 
more coveted, than even a great number of individuals, when tbey 
Were net bound by the same ties of blood, inasmncb, as tbe bringing 
them over by families was an outpouring of grace which oonld not 
be withstood. The consequence was, tliat all the profligate and 
unprincipled, who had cold, and nakedness, and famine, in addition 
to tbeir own utter want of all. moral feeling to stimulate them, 
locked upon the new Reformation, and its liberal promises, as a com- 
[Jete windfall blown into tbeir way by some unexpected piece of 
good fwtnne. Five guineas a head! Ajid aU for only going to 
cbnrch, and gaining for ever more the heart and affections of tbe 

good and kind Lord There was also another class, the ample 

and honest poor, who had no ether way of avoiding all tbe rigoora 
and privations of that terrible season, than a painful compliance with 
tbe only principle wbich oould rescue themselves and thrar cbildren 
from a atato of things worae than death itself, and which might pro- 
bably have terminated In death, we mean the principle of tbe New 
Beformation. There was still a third class, wbich eoBsisted cf 
a set of thorough Irish wags, wbo looked upon the whole thing as aa 
excellent joke { and who, while they hod not a rag to their backs, 
nor a morsel for tbeir moutiis, enjoyed the whole ceremony of read- 
ing their reeantation, renouncing Popery, and all that, as a capital 
spree while it lasted, and a thing t^ ongbt, by all means, to be 
encouraged, until better times came. 

In vun, therefore, did Father H*Caba denounce and prophecy — 
in TRin did be launch all the dt^nas of the church — in vun did be 
warn, lecture, and threaten — Darby's private hint had gone abroad 

m nisH icniiT. m 

incinlj a dmy or two Ifefiwo their oncoimter, and the eoaMqaeac* 
WM what might be expected. Darby, in fiot, oTerreached him, a 
a circumatance of wliicfai at the period of titeir meeting lie waa 
ignoiaat; bat be had just leanied how "the word" had spread as It 
was called, in ao eztraordinat^ a matmer, mangre all his oppositioii, a 
short time before they met; and oar readers not feel Barprised at th« 
lone and temper wil^ which) after having heard such intelligenoe, be 
addressed Darby, nor at the treatment which that worthy persona^ 
receiTed at bis hands. Had he known that it wss Darby's " word" 
which, in point of facl^ had occasioned " the spread" we speak of, he 
wontd have made that worthy missionary exhibit a much greater 
degree of alacri^ than he did. 

Before Darby airires at Mr. Locre's, however, we mnst tale the 
liberty of anticipating him a little, in order to be present at a con- 
versaUon which oocorred on this very subject between the worthy 
Bector and the Bev. Mr. Clement, his Curate. Mr. Clement, like 
the pious and excellent Father Roche, was one of those clergymen 
who feel that these nnbectming and nselesa exhibitions colled 
religions discussions, instead of promoting a liberal or enlajtged view 
of religitHi, are only calculated to envenom Ihe feelings, to extinguish- 
chari^, and to contract the heart. Nay, more, there never was a 
discnsdon, they said, nod we join them, since the days of Uasher and 
the Jesuit, that did not terminate in a tumult of angry and unchris- 
tian recriminadon, in which all the conunon conrtesiea of life, not to 
mention the professed duties of Christian men, were trampled on 
and violated without scruple. In the pr^arations for the forth- 
coming discoBsion, therefore, neither of these worthy men took any 
part whatsoever. The severe duties of so lai^ a parish, the calte of 
the sick, the poor, and the dyin^ t<^ther with the varied phases of 
human misery that pressed upon their notice as they toiled through 
the obscure and neglected padu of life, all in their opinion, and, in 
oura, too, constituted a sufficiently ample code of duty, withont 
smbroiling themselves in these load and turbulent rencounters- 
Mr. Clemen^ who, on this sune day. Lad received a message from 
Locie, found that gentleman in remaAably good spirits. He hitil 
jnst leceived a present of a fine haunch of venison from a fox- 
hunting nobleman in the neighbourhood, and was gloating over it, • 
ere its descent into the larder, with the ruddy fire of epicurbm 
biasing in bis eyes. 

** Clement," said lie, with a grave, subdued grunt of enjoyment, 
"oraie this way— turn np the venison Francis — efa, what say yon 



mm, CHomcnt ? look at the depth of the fat !-«-wh8t a prfme fetlow 
MtatwasI — see the flank he hadi — six inches on the ribs at least! 
As our connttTinan, Goldamitb, sayB, ' the lean is so white, and the 
fat ta BO niddy.' ' 

Qement had often beforfl witnessed thi» hot spirit of laxiii7, vldefi 
bMomes douUf carnal and groea in a nnoister of Qod. On tiiis occa- 
stOD be did not even smile, hot replied graTely, " I am not a judge of 
ronison, Ur. Zmcre; bnt, I believe jon have miaqnoted the poet, 
who, I think, says, ' the fat wu so white, and the lean was so rndd;."* 

" Veil, thaA net mndh, Clement ; but, if yan were a judge, this 
would both delight and astonish 7011. Now, Frands, I charge yon, 
as yon value your reputation, to be eautious in dreseing it Yon 
know how I wish it doue, and, besides, Lord Uountmorgage, Sir 
Harry Beevor, Lord ■ — -, and a few clerical friends, are to dine with 
m& Come in, CtomenW— Francis, you have heard what 1 said ! If 
that haundi is ^iled you ehall hear of it ; so look to it." 

When they entered the library, the table of which was covered 
with religiooB magarinee, miasioaary papers, and reports of religions 
societies, i>oth at home and abroad, Mr. Lticre, after throwing himself 
into a rich cushioned arm-chair, motioned to his curate to lake a seat. 

" I have sent for yon, Clement," said he, " to have your adviee and 
assistanee on a subject, in which, I feel confident, that as a sincere 
and sealons Protestant^ you will take a warm interesL Ton have 
heard of the establishment of our Kew Refoimatien Society, of 

" I believe it is pretty generally known," replied Clement. 

** It is now," replied Lucre ; " bnt our objects are admirable. We 
propoee to carry controversy into all the strongfaolda of Fopery — to 
enlighten both priests and people, and, if possible, to transfer the 
whole popish population — ptr tatiram — ^by the lump,, as it were — " 

" Per taluram, I believe," observed Clement bowiDg, " if I may 
tab? the liberty." 

" Sati, satu — ^well, yon may be right ; my memory, Clement, retains 
laige passages best, and ever did — to transfer the whole Popish popu- 
Istiun ta the Established Qiurob. It is a noble, a glorious specnlatton, 
if it only can be accomplished. Think of the advantages it wonld 
confer upon us I What staUlity would it not give the Church !" 

" I cannot exactly see what peculiar stability it would give the 
ehurch," replied Clement, " with the exception of mere numbers 

" How so — what do yon mean P* 

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THi lUBH laurr. m 

*■ Wbj, HT,? r^ied Olemsill^ "if wa had tte ^^faua j4b tfmlk 
of to-morAW, wfl would be certainly wone off thaa we are to-day. 
Thej eooUl onlj pi? ua oui- titfaea, aad tlut tiwj do aa it is i if th^ 
flitfc w iJ ■ portion, and tin kigest portion tbey would fbim, of oor 
ehnnbr ttdnlE of tire waaenH navbcr of elel^ tbey would i4qttif» M 
look to tfioir taliglouB wantB-Mtha aamhet of efauraitaa afid eb^elB of 
eM0 tlMt mittt be boilU-UIn dsmbar of UfiogB tha* MiiBt be diridAd— 
naf^nydteTiir, ia additioa to thk, yon may easily esc^ that for arory 
«BM Uebop now, wo aliotdd have at leaat four then, and tttat the 
incoBea wOoU diminiah in proportion. As it is now, nr, we have the 
tilhea witbont the tranble of laboonog for them, but it wonld be a 
diflbiaat eaae in your new positioa of afiatrg.' 

ICr. Xiiicn, who, in the beat of hia seal, had neither penuttsd Urn* 
§tii to aee matters in thia light, nw to perceive tliat demBBtTs tlgn- 
amrta ooneealed under a gnve aapeet aomediing of irony and ealare^ 
looked upon bis curate with diBm^— tiie imaoth and ro^ cheek got 
pala, ae did the whole purple Eaee down to the third chin, eaob 
of vlneb reminded one of the dimioiabed rainbows in the sky, if wa 
BUy be allowed to except that tbey were not ao heavenly. 

" Clement," said he, " yon amase n>e— tbat is a moet exceedingly 
clear view of the matter. Transfer them I no aiioh Ihin^itwonldba 
a nuMt dreadfol calamity, nnleea church property were proportionablj 
iaci«ased t but^ could not that be don^ Olemcnt ? Yes," said h«, 
exuhing at the idea, ae one of which he ought to feel proud, " that 
could and would be done — -besides I relish the moltijdication of the 
UshoiaicB, midec any cirounutances, and therefore we will proceed 
with the Beformation. At all events, it would be a great blessing to 
get rid of Fopery, which we woold do, if wc could acoompliah tbic 
desirable projeot.'' 

X I must conlcM, sir," replied Mr. Clement gravely, " tbat I have 
never been anxious for a men change of speculative opinions in any 
nuio, nnkoB when accompanied by a corresponding Improvement in 
his life and mania. With respect to the Beformation Boeiety, I beg 
leave to observe that I think the plan for the present ia onMasonabl^ 
and only calcolated (o fill the kingdom with religionB dusension and 
iMtred among cbristianb The peojde, sir, are not prepared to have 
their religion taken l:^ stonn j they are too shrewd fw (hat i and I 
really Uiink we have no juat cause to feel anxjona for the oonversion 
M those who cannot apprediate the principles npon which they 
embrace oar faith, as mttst be tbe case with ninety-nine out of every 
bnndred of tbem. I have ever been of opinion that the policy punned 



bj l^igtwid towkrda thu conntr; lus been the b«ii« of ito h^tf^OM. 
Stua deprired the Irish Bomaa Catholios of the nwuu of wqniring' 
^aCBtion, mod then piuii«h«d them for tha orimea whkh proceeded 
ft<om their ignorance. The; were « diwa U afied, % Inmaltapui, lod an 
iMipnoticatde, because ther wen an oppsened, people j and wher^ 
hj the wa;, is there a pei^le, worthy to be named sndh, who will or 
ought to rest oontented under penal and (^presave laws? Bat (lure 
V>s > day when they would have been gratefnt {or the relazatioB of 
BDch laws. OppreaioB, howoTeri has its traditiona, and so has 
lerenge, and these can descend from father to son, without edooatiaD. 
If Soman Catholic disabilides had been remored at a proper time, 
they would long since have been forgotten ; bnt they were not, and 
BOW they are remembered, and will be Temembered. The prejodjcea 
of the Soman Catholics, however, and their enmity towards those 
who oppressed them, incmsed with their numbers and their know- 
le^ie. The religion of those who kept them down was Fratestant } 
and think you, iir, that, be the merits of that religion what they may, 
these are the people to come over in lai^ masses, without esteem for 
us, reflection, or any knowledge of its pafcciplee, and embrace the 
creed of the very men whom they look upon as their oppressors. 
Sir, there is but one way of converting the Irish, and it is this ; — let 
them find the best arguments for Protestantism in the Uves of its 
F-jnisters, and of all who profess it Let the higher Protestant elei^ 
move more among the hnmUer classes even of their own flocks — let 
them be found more frequently where the Boman Catholic priest 
always is — at the sick bed — in the house of monroii^ <rf death, and 
of sin — let them abandon the unbecoming pursuits of an ungodly 
ambition — oast from, them the crooked and dishoneet manoeuvres of 
political negociation and intrigue-4et them live more humbly, and 
more in accordance with the gospel which they preach — let them not 
set their hearts upon the church, merely because it is a wealthy cor- 
poration, calculated rather to gratify their own woridly amtutiou or 
cupidity, than the spiritnsl eKigencies of their Aocks — ^let them not 
draw their revenues from the pockets of a poor people who disclaim 
their faith, whilst they themselvw denounce and revile that faith as 
a thing not to be tolerated. Let them do this, sir — ^free Protestantism 
from the golden shackles which make it the slave of Mammon, that 
it may be able to woik — do this, and depend upon it thai it will then 
flonrish as it ought i bnt in my bumble opinion, until such a reform 
first takes {dace with ourselves, it is idle to expect that BtHuan 
Catholics will come over to us, nnksE,.iadeed, a few Cnvi sordid and 



MboDwt nodTee — wd theM we were better vithont. I think, 
Umrefbr^ that Ihe preaent BeformfttiiHi Society is niueawiulile lad 
ill adviaed, urn do I hesitate to predict that the eveol will prore it ao. 
In eondnakni, air, I am eorry to aaj tliat I're aeldom seen one of 
tlioee Tery aealoiu clergjmen who woold not rather ctrnvert one indi- 
Tidnal fhHQ Foperj than ten from sin," 

" Why, Ckment, jon are a liberal T 

"I trust, air, I am a Christian. As for liberalism, a» It is generally 
nnderstood, no man flcoms the cant of it more than I do. Butlcan- 
not thinli that a Boman Chtholic man sincerely worshipping Qod^ 
even with many obvioos errors in hia forms, or, with what we c<msider 
absurdities in his very creed — I cannot think, I say, that such a man, 
wordiip^ng the Almighty according to his knowledge, will be damned. 
To think so is precisely the doctrine of exclusive salvation, with 
which we chai^ Fopery itself." 

Hr. Lucre's face, daring the annnnciation of these sentiments, 
glowed like a furnace thrice heated — he tamed uphiseyes — groaned 
alond — etmck the arm of his chair with his open hand — tlien com- 
menced fanning his breast, as if the act were neoeasaiy to cool that 
evangelical indignation, in which there is s^d to be no sin. 

" Clement," said he, " this — this' — here he kept Esnning down his 
cluder for lialf a minute — " this is — astonishing — awfnl — monstruns 
— monstrons doctrine to come from the lips of a clergyman — man '— 
another fanning — "of the Established Church; bat what is still worse, 
from — from — ^tlie lips of my Curate \—my Curate-I I'll tronble yon 
to touch the beO< — thank you, sir. But, Mr. Clement, the circum- 
stance of giving utterance to such opinions so abruptly, and as if you 
were merely stating some common-place fact — without evincing tlie 
slightest consideration for me — without reflecting upon who and what 
1 tm — without remembering my position — my influence— the pnriQ 
and orthodoxy of my doctrine — the services I have rendered to reli- 
gion, and to a Protestant government — (John, a glass of water — 
quickly) — you forget, sir, that I have proved the Romish Church to 
be both damnable and idolatrous — that she is without the means of 
salvation — that her light is out — her candlesticks removed — and that 
she is nothing now but darkness, and abomination, and l}lasphemy. 
Yes, sir ; knowing all this, you could openly express such doctrines, 
without giving me a moment's notice, or anything to prepare me for 
snch a shock 1 Sir, I am very much dUtressed indeed ; hat I thank 
my God that this excitmnent — (bring it here John — quick) — that 
this excitement is Christian excitement — Christian' excitement, Btr. 



Clement ; f«r X am not, I trost, witiiont that Mil for tbs intemta uf 
mj Cltnroti,of mjEin^sndof FrotMbuitUmatki'gafwIufhlMcomn 
a maa who hw laboured for them a> I hare done." 

Heret aotwithfltandijig the exoeonve thirst which seemed to hava 
fiwtatied on hioif he put the ghiaa to hia lipa t hnti sooth to aaj, Uk» 
the widow's croise, it seemed to have been pAed with the mincnlow 
property of going &om his lips as full ai when it oame to them. ■ 

" I aaonTe Jau, Mr. Laore," relied Clenoieiit, " in itlering my sen- 
timents I most certainly had not the slightest intention of giving you 
oSiiaoe. I s|M>ke calmly, and candidly, and truly, what I thinlt and 
feel — and I regret that I shonld hare offended you so much } for I 
only expressed the common charity t^por religion, which bc^th all 
tilings — is alow to condemn, and forbids as to judge, last we be 

" Clement," said Mr. Lucre, who, to speah truth, had ascribed his 
excitement — (what a J>a8e, servile, dishonest hypoeritical sconndrel 
of a word is that exdtement — ready to adopt any meaning, to conceal 
any failing, to disgnise any fact, to run any l^ng message whatsoever 
at tbe beak and service of falsehood or hypocrisy. If a man is drunk, 
in steps escitOBenL Lord, Sir, be was only excited, a little excited ; 
if a maa is in a rage, like Mr, Lucre, he is only cxtntod, moved by 
Christian exoitonent— out upon it I — but, like every other slavish 
instrument, we mast use it) — had ascribed his excitement, we say, to 
causes that had nothing whatsoever to do in oceasioning it — the bona 
fide one bmog the indirect rebuke to him, and to the class to which he 
belonged, that was contained in Clement's obeervations upon the 
Established Church and her ecclesiastica, " Clement," said he, " I 
must be pltun with you. For some time past I have really suspected 
the sonndneea fX. your views — I had doubts of your orthodoxy ; but 
out of eonsideration for your large family, I did not press you for an 

" Then, sir," replied Clement, " allow me to say, that as an ortho- 
d<» clergyman, jealous of the purity of your creed, and anxioos for 
tbe spizitaal weUare of yonr flock, it was your duty to have done so. 
As for me, I shall be at all times both ready and willing to render an 
account of the futh that is in me< I neither fear nor deprecate 
inrestigation, sir, I assure yon." 

** J certain^ knew not, however, that you were so far gone in lad- 
I find, nnfortunately, to be the case. I hold a 
a satsed situation, as a Protestant minister, Mr. Cement, 
wid conaequently cannot sufier such doctrines to spread through my 



§aA. BeuOe^ had you Uksn u acliTe put In promotiiig dii* 
Befonxuttiont aai with tout teuuisg and talents I know jon oouU 
bftTB done — I mmke ua aUudoD now to you anbMppy prinsiplefr^-bftd 
jon dcmc ao, it was my fixed intention t« have iscieued your «■]«/ 
tea pounds per aanimi» -oat of way own {>«ck«4, notwitbtaading tb» 
great claiots that are npon ma." 

" Mj legal salary, I believe, Mr. Loora^ is aeTeDty-flTe pounds per 
aaawm, add the value <tf yoiir benefice is one thousand four hundred. 
I xoaj say the whole doty is performed by me. Out of that one 
litOHsand four hundred 2 receive sixty ; but I shall add notliiDgmoTe 
—for indeed I have yet several visits to make before I go home. As 
to my <wthodoxy, sir, yon will take your own course. To my bishop 
I am ready to explun my opinions ; tttey are in accDrdanoe with the 
word of God ; and if fw entertaining them 1 am deprived of the 
Blender support for which I labour, as your curate, my trust in God 
will not be the lees." 

Mr. Lucie declined any rejJiyt but bowed very politely, and rang 
the bel^ to order his carriage, as a hint to Mr. Clemmt that the con- 
versation was cloeed- The latter bowed, bade him good morning, and 

Wlien Mr. Clement said he had some vieits to make, we must. Lest 
the reader migM suppose that they are visits of ceremony^ follow bis 
ttqn, in order to learn the nature of these visits^ 

Aboot balf a nule &om the Glebe house of Castie Camber, the 
meek aod UDassnming curate entered into an abode of misery and 
sorrow, which would require a far more toucliing pen than ours to 

A poor widow eat upon the edge of a little truckle bed with the 
bead of one of her children on her 1^ ; another lay in the same bed 
ulent and leeble, and looking evidently iU. Mr. Clement remem- 
bered to have seen tbe boy whom she supported, not long before, 
playing about the cottage, his rosy cheeks heightened into a glow of 
healtlt and beauty by the exercise, sod his fair, thick-clustered hair 
blown about by tlie breeze. The child '"'as dyio^ and the tender 
power of a mother's love prompted her to keep him as near her 
breaking heart as she could, during the short space that remained of 
his brief existence. When Mr. Clement entered, the lonely mother 
looked upon him with an aspect of such utter sorrow, of such help, 
less aupplicatioa in her misery, as if she said, am I left to the afflic- 
litm of my own heart 1 An^ I out off from the pity and comfort 
Kfaich distress like mine ought to derive from Chrislian sympathy 

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•ad feDowiUp t Have I not eren k bmrnui Bmm to look npoo, bat 
'tlioseofmy djingchildNiiI Sooh, in Bimihr cirennuUnoM, are tba 
qveeUota which the heart mil ask. She conld- not immedialflly 
speak, but, with the bead of ber dying boy npon her heart, 
^ tat in mnte and nnbroken agony, evefy pang a( her depardng 
orph&n throwing a deeper shade of affliction over her cotmtenance^ 
and a keener barb of sorrow into ber qiirib 

Tlie ohampioD of God, however, was at his poat He adwieed to 
the bed-side^ and in tones which proclumed the fnlneae of his ^m- 
patby in her snflbiings, and with a countenance lit op by that tmst 
in hieaTen, which long tnals of his own and similar bereaTementa 
bad given him, he addressed her in words of comfort and oonsolatton, 
and raised her heart to better hopes than any wUch this worid of 
care and trial can bestow. It is difiicalt, however, to give comfort 
in such moments, Dor is it pradent to enforce it too strongly. The 
widow locked npcm her boy's face, which was sweetly marked with 
the gtsces of innocence even in the throes of death. The light of 
life was nearly withdrawn from his dim blue eyei bat be felt from 
time to time for the mother's hands, and the mother's bosom. He 
was striving, too, to utter his little complaints ; attempting probaUy 
to describe his safierings, and to beg relief from his unhapy parent ; 
but the power of death was on all his facolties ; his words lapsed into 
each other indistinctly, and were, conseqnently, unintelligible. Mrs. 
Vincent, for such was the widow's name, heard the words addressed 
to her by Mr. Clement ; she raised her eyes to heaven fbr a moment, 
and then tamed them, heavy with misery, opon her dying boy. Her 
lieart— her hopes — almost her whole being were peculiarly centered 
in the object before her; and though she had inutgined that empa- 
thy might support her, she now felt that no human power could gira 
ber consolation. The tears were ftiUing fast from Mr. Clement's 
cheeks, who felt, that until the agonies of the boy were over, it would 
be vain to offer her any kind of support. At length she exclaimed — 

" Oh 1 Saviour, who saSbred the agony of the cross, and who 
loved little children like him, let your mercy descend upon my 
beloved I Suffer him to come to you tooa. Oli 1 Saviour, hear a 
mother's prayer, for I loved him above all, and he was our life I Core 
of my heart, you are striving to tell your mother what you sufier, but 
the weight of death is npon your tongu^ and you cannot do tt ! I 
am here, my beloved sufi^rer — I am here — ^you straggle to find my 
hands to tell me— to tell me — ^but I cannot help you." 

" Mrs> Vinoent,' said the cnratc, " we have reason to believe thai 

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wliKt appears to u to be the agony of defttb is not fult bo severelj as 
we imagine ; strive to moderate jour grief — and reflect tbat lie will 
MOD be in peace, and joy, and bappness, tiiat will never end. Hii 
little sorrows and Bufferings will soon be over, and the boeom of « 
merciful God will receive turn into life and f^rj.' 

" Bn^ sir," reified tbe widow, the tears fast streaming down ber 
cbeeks, "do jon not see wfaatKaanfien? Xiook at the moistare Uiat 
is oa his litlle brow, and see bow Jie writhes with the pain. He 
thinks that I can atop it, and it is for that he presses my bands- 
Daring bis whole iUnees that was ataQ bis 'ory-^ob, ' mother, take 
away this pain, why don'tTTOU take awaj the pain ?* 

Hr. Clement was a father, ^d aa iifiectioAate one, and this alla- 
sion to the innocence of the little- snfierer touched bb heart, and 
he was sQcnt. 

The' widow proceeded,, "there be liesi'my only — only son — his 
deported fstber's image, and I looked up to him to be one day 
my BOppCMl, - my pride, and my' biqtpiness — but see what he is 
now .' Ob 1 James, Janws, - wbiddnH I Is;^ down my life to save 
yonra!" , ■ 

" Ton look at the dark side of the picture, Mrs. Vincent," siud the 
cunte. " Think upon what he may escape, by bis early and his happy 
death. Yon know not, but that. there was crime, and wn, and sAiction 
before him. Consider hew many parents there ue'now in tbe world,- 
who would feel bappy that their children, wbb bring shame, and di»- 
treas, and misery upon them, had been taken to God in their child- 
liood. And, surely, there is still a God to provide for younelf ahd 
your other little ones ; for, remember, yon have still thoee who have 
tender claims upon your heart.'' 

" I know you are right, sir," she replied, " but, in cases like tbi^ 
nature must have its way. Death, death, but you're cruel t Ob, 
blessed Father, what is this ?" 

One last oonvolsive spasm, tme low agonising groan, acoompanied 
liy a' rdaxation of the little fingers which bad pressed'her bands, 
eloeed tbe sofibrings of the widow's [wide. She stooped wildly over 
him and pressed him to her heart, as if hf doing so^ she could draw 
his pain^ into her own firnme as they were alxeedy in ber ajurit ; but 
his mnnnurings were silent, and on hx^cingclosely into bis counteaanM^ 
she perceived thAt his Bedeemer had, indeed, suffered ber little one to 
JO nntohim i that all bis little pains and agonies were over for ever. 

" His sufferings are past 1" she exclaimed ; " James, your snfiiuings 
are over T As she uttered the words, the curate was as t on i ihed by 



hearing lier bunt ost into ono or tvo wUd hjaterio InagtiB, wUd 
liappilj ended in tears. 

"No mtae," abe amtinwA, "ytraH feel no mon p^ now, mj 
preciooe boy ; your Toiee will nerer Honnd, in mj ean ^nin ; jotni 
never call on me to say 'motlkar take away my pain ;* the Snnd^ 
morning will nevei etune when I will take pride in dressing yon. 
My morning and evening Un will never more be given — all 
my heart was fixed cm ia gone, and I care not now iriiat beoomea 
of me." 

What oonld the good cnrate do ? He strove to eootb, sustain, and 
comfort her, but in vun i the poor widow beard him not. 

" Jenny," said shoi at length, turning to the other sick ch3d, *' your 
brother la at rest 1 James is at rest ( he will disturb yonr sleep now 
no more— nor will yon disturb bis." 

" Oh I but he conld'nt help it, mammy ; it was the pain that made 

As the child uttered these words, the widow put her hand to her 
heart, gave two or three rajdd sobs, her boeom heaved, and her head 
fell back over a chair that was accidentally beside her. Mr. Clement 
caught her in time to prevent her frcmt falling; he placed her 
upright on the chair, which be earried to the little dresser, where he 
Sound a Jog of water, the only drink she bad to give her sick 
children. With this be bathed her temples and wetted her lips, after 
which be ]o0kei upon die eoene of death and affliction by which be 
was snrroonded. 

"Gracious Fatlier," he exclaimed, "let yonr mercy reach this, 
most pitiabla family I lo<^ with eyes of compassion upon tbia 
afflicted and bereaved woman t Oh, support her — she is poor 
and nearly heart-broken, and the world has abandoned her I Oh, 
do not thou abandon her, Father of aU mercy, and God of all 
consolation I" 

As be cottduded, the widow leoovered, and felt his tears foiling upon 
ha- &oe. On looking np, she peceived how deeply he was afifected. 
Her Upe opened nnoonadotuly with a blessing on him who shared in, 
and soothed her swrow»— her v<uce was feeble, for she had not yet 
noovered bar strength ; but tba low mnrmnr of her pnyers and 
Ueeaings rose like the aonnds of sweet but melancholy mnsie to 
heaven, and was heard there. 

Mr. Oliamffiit then went over to the bed, and, with bis own hand, 
■Dftoothed it dovn tor the little nek sister of the departed boy, 
■djvting the bad elothea alxrat her as well as he oonld, for the other 


dAdreii were too jaaag to do dnytfaing. Ha ihen divide the 
hair opon ths lifUesa ohild's forehea d eontanpkted iia bnntifal 
iMtims to R nuowBt — caught hSa little hand in iua-4et it fall — ahl 
how lifeleeilf I h« dien shook hit btmi, nised his ^ei, and pointing 

rted, vith a promiM of aeeing her aoon. 



OHUBTiAH DUPoamoir towaum vatub ii<cabb~ a tsw 


Hb. Ldcbk, like almoat erery Protestant rector of tbe day, was a 
oiagistrste, a circnmatanoe which prevented Hr. dement from feel- 
ing any Borprise at seeing a considerable number of persons, of both 
■exes, approaching tbe glebe. He imagined, naturally enough, ttiat 
tb«7 were going upon law bosineis, as it is termed — for be knew tiiat 
Ur. Lscie, during his angel visits to Castle Cumber, took mnch more 
delight in administesing the law than the gospel, uolesi^ when ready 
mad^ in the shape of bibles. WLen Darl^, also, arrived, he found 
B considerable nnmber of these persons standing among a little clum[» 
of troea in tbe lawn, apparently waiting for some person to break the 
■oc^ and go in first — a feat whioh each felt anxioos to decline himself, 
whilst he pressed it vary strtHigly npon his n^hbour. No sooner 
had D^rby made his appearance, than a oommanicaticn took place 
batween him and them, ia which it was settled that ha was to hav4 
the first intflrriew, aiid afterwards direct the conduct and motions of 
tbe nat. There was, indeed, a dry, knowing look about him, which 
seemed to imjdy, in fact, that they were not there without some sug- 
gsstioa fromhimseU^ 

Darby was very well known to Jb- Lucre, for whom he had fre- 
qscnt^y acted in the capacr^ of a bailiff; he aocoidingly entered with 
something like an ^pearanoe of boainess : but to adfurahly balanced 



wu his conduct on this occanon, between his nsnal onealing ud boT' 
rile manner, and hia privileges as a Chrisliani that it would be diffi- 
cult to witness anything so inimitablj wdl mansged as his deportmenL 
One oircnmstanca was certainly strongly in his favour; Father 
M'Cabe had taken care to imprint with his wliip a prima JheM 
testimony of sincerify upon his countenance, which was black and 
swoUeo into large welts hy the exposition of doctrinal truth which 
he had received at that gentleman's bands. Lucre, on seeing him, 
very naturally imagined that he was coming to lodge informations for 
some oatrage committed on him either in the discharge of his duty as 
bailiff, or for having become a convert, a fact which he had learned 
. from the True Blue. 

" Well, O'Drive," said he, " what is the matter now ? yoH are aadly 
sbnBBd— how came this to pass 7" 

Darby first looked upwards, very like a man who was cossctentionBly 
soliciting some especial grace la gift from above ; his lips moved aa if 
in prayer, but he was otherwise motionless ; at length he ceased— 
drew a Imig breath, and assumed the serenity of one whose [wayer 
had been granted. The only word he uttered that could posribly be 
at all understood, was amen i which he pronounced lowly, but still 
distinctly, and in as unpopish a manner as he could. 

" I b^ your pardon, sir," he replied, " but now my heart's airier — 
X hope I have ovenunne that feeling that was an me — ^I can now for- 
give him for the sake of the spread o' the gospel, and I do." 

" What has happened, O'Drive P your f^ is sadly abused 1' 

" A small taste o' parsecution, sir, which the Lord put into Father 
M'Cabe's horsewhip — heart I mane — to give me, bekaise I renounced 
his hatbenism, and came into the light o' thmth — may He be praised 
for it I" Here followed on nptnming of the eyes after the manner <^ 

" Do yon mean to tell me, O'Drive, that this outrage has heea com- 
mitted on you by that savage priest, M'Cabe ?" 

" It was he left me as you see, sir — but it's good to snSer in this 
world, especially for the thmth. Indeed I am proud of this face," he 
continued, blinking with a visage so comically disastroos at Hr. 
Lucre, that had that gentleman ha4 the slightest possible peroeptitm 
of the ludicrous in his composition, not all the gifits and graces that 
ever were poured down upon the whole staff of the Beformation 
Society together, would have prevented him from laughing outright. 

" Of conrse you are come," pursued Lucre, "" to swear infbimatioBS 
■gainst this man ?" 

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" I bate pntyed for it," said Darby in a soliloquy, " and I feel that 
it has been granted. Swear iDfonnationa, air r — TU strive and do 
bettber than that, I hope t I miut now take my stand by the bible,. 
«ir ; that will be the colour m hoist while I lire. In that blessed 
book I read these words this momin', ' Iotb your enemies, bless them 
that oorae yon, do good to them tiiat hate yon, and prsj for them 
which despiteftUly use yon and porsecute yoo.' Sir, when I read 
these words I feU them sinkin' into my heart, and I couldn't help 
repatin' tltem to myself ever since — and, even when Father M'Cabid 
Was pbyii^ his whip abont my earsi I was as hard at work prayin' Tor 
his Bowli" 

This, we hare no doubt, was perfectly tnie, only we fear that 
onr blessed convert forgot to state the precise nature and object of 
the prayer in qoestioo, and to mention whether it was to the upper or 
lower settlement he consigned the soul alluded to. This Christiim 
spirit of Darby's, however, was by no means in keeping with that 
c^ Mr. Lucre, who never was of opinion, in his most charitable (^ 
DMods, that the goapel should altogether supereede the law. On this 
occasiMi, e^mdally, be felt an acuteness of anxiety to get the priest 
within his power, which the ^irit of no gospel that ever was written 
ooiild rettresB. U'Cabe and he had nerer met, oti at least, never 
spoken ; but the priest had, since the conuneucement of the new 
ntovemenl^ sent him a number of the most ludjorous messages, gna 
tnnsmittod to him, for selection, a large assortment of the most 
comical and degrading epithets. Here, then, was an opportunity et 
gratifying his resentment in a Christian and constitutional spirit, and 
with no obstacle in his way but Darby's inveterate piety. Thii^ 
howeTer,yi>r tkt take iff truth, he hoped to remove, or so modify, thai 
it would not prevent him from punishing that veiy disloyal and iSx^ 
htrona delinqoenti 

" Those feelings CDrive, are all very good and creditable to yo% 
and I am delighted indeed that you entertain them — but^ in tbtj 
mean time, you owe a duty to society greater than ttat which yon 
owe to yourselC This man, this priest — a huge, ferocious person t 
nndeiBtand he is — has latterly been going alwut the parish foaming 
and n^iog, and seeking whom he may horsewhip." 

"That^B thrutJi, sir, poor dark hathen — an', air — jbt beggin' you^ 
pardon fiir one mjnsl^ half a minute, sir — you know we're desired 
when an inimy strikes us upon one cheek to turn the other to him ; 
well, as I said, sir, I found myself very scriptural this whole day, so 
when he hot me the first weh on this cheek, I turns round the otheiV 

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an' DOW look nt tlie atate W» in, riF~lnit that's not aU. eir, be tuck 
tbe bint nt once, and gave it to me on both Bideii till ha left me w 
Ton see me. StJll, mr, I out fergire him ; aj, and I hova doiw It." 

" Hat, as I said, reflects great eiedit on joat iirijici{>lw...Aul, in 
Ac meantime, jam can stitl retain these pimcipkBandpn]0eo«te him. 
Tour lodging informationB against him does not intcrfera with jvnr 
own personal forgiveness of him at all-^becauie it is in behalf of, 
and for the mdity of eocielj' thot jou oome forward to prosecute him 

Darby, who, in point of fact, had his coarse atreadj talcen, shook 
hia bead and replied, falling back upon the form of M'SUmc's laa* 
guage as much as be could— 
" I feel, sir," he replied, ''that Tm not pemitted." 
" permitted \" repeated the other. " What do yoa mean ?" 
" Tm not permitted from aboTe, sir, to prosecute this man. I^ 
not justified in It." 

"Quite ridicnlous, ODrive ; where did 70a pick up this jargon at 
the conventicle — ^but that reminds me, hj the bje— ymi are not a 
convert to the Established Church. Ton belong to the Dissenters, 
and owe your change of opinions to Mr. M'Sllme.' 

" If I don't bekmg to the Established Chureh now, ur," replied 
parby, " it wont be long tin I do." 

" Why," Inquired the other, " are you net satis&ed with the dmaot 
mination of Christians you have joined 7" 

"K'Slime, sir, converted me — as yon say — bnt Pre great ol^M- 
tioQB^-and between yon and me, I IW It's not altogether Mfft f^ any 
man to take his religion from an Attorrtey." 

A smile, as much as he could condescend to, pasnoit over th* 
haughty, but dignified features of Mr. Lneie. 

" O'Drive," said he, " I did not think yon possessed so muck sim- 
plicity of diaracter as I peroeive you do— but toadiing the prosecu- 
tion of this man— yon must lodge informations forthwitii. To« dull 
bring tbe warrant to iSi. H<Clatchy who will back It, and p«fc it iato 
the hands of those who wiU lose little time In having It e>«ait«d.'' 

" I am sorry, sir, that my conscience doesn't justify me la doln' 
what you wish." 

" What do you mean by conscience, sir P" asked the other, getting 
warm ; " if yon have a conscience you will have no scruple In pmiisb- 
Ing a man who is an open enemy to truth, to the gosptil, and to the 
api«ad of it through this benighted land. How can yon recondle It 
to yoiv conscience to let such a man escape ?* 



*' Slinpl;, hy forgiv'ai' him, lor— by Isttin' the grmt, big, ignorant 
bathen, hkve the fdl benefit of a goq>el forgiveneea. That^i what T 
meai^ lir i and isrely it standi to tenia that I eonldnt pntaeontc 
him wid these foelioa, bonia' I'd go againat the Word." 

" O'Drive," aoid Lucre, evUenay mortUted at Darbu^ obMfauer, 
" one of two tbiiigs is tnie t elthw jon ara ntterlf igacoant^ pertiapfl, 
widi eveiy diapontion to know them, of the sancticuiB and obligations 
of religion, or 700 are itill a papist at heart, md an Impoitor. I tell 
jou, sir, once more, that h ia vfon religiou groonda jou eoght to 
prooecote this wild priest t because in doing so, 70a rsider a most 
important nrrice to leligioB and morslitf, both of which are ont- 
nged in his peiaon. Yon onght to know this. Again, sir, If joa 
are a Fcotcstant, aod have thorooghty cast Fopery from yoitr hearty 
yon must necessarily be a loyal man and a good subject ; bnt if yod 
refoae to prosecnte him, yon can be neiUter the (me nor the other, 
but a papist and an impoatm', as I a^d, and IVe done with yon. If 
Mr. HOntohy knew, sir, that yos refieed to proeecate a priest for 
Bvoh a vkiient outrage npcm ymtt pAron, I imagine yon woidd not 
kag hold the atfaation of beiUff nnder him.'* 

Darby looked into the floor like a philos'^her BoMug a prebkmi 
" t see. sir," said he, ** I see-^w^I — yon hare made that clear enongfa 
KTtinly ; bat yon know, sir, how coidd you expect dch doep 
TUSOIU&' upon theae subjects irom a man like me. I see the dnty 
of it now clearly j bat, then, sir, on the other faand^ if I proaecntfl 
him, whafi to beoome <tf me? 'Win yaa, ^, bear my foneral ex- 

*' Every penny, CDrive," replied the other eagerly. " Tut," he 
exclaimed, checking himself, "I— I — I thought yod meant the ex- 
penses of the pR)secuti<m * 

« If B much the KUne, air," re^ed Darby, " the one wiD be sure to 
Mly the otlMr. Tdu know the state the countiT'B in now, sir, and 
how the peo^de on both sides are ready to akiTer one another about 
this religion, and rents, and tythes, and dear knows what besides. 
As it ia, lir," ho proceeded, " you 'see that I dnrstn't walk the- road 
without these," and he produced the piatcda as he spoke ; " but what 
efaaace, sir, would I bare if X proeecntcd a priest P Why, my life 
Wouldn't be worth two hour's pnrchase." 

Mr. Luore himself could not iielp feeling tmd admttdng the trutU 
of this, but as be could deriM no plan to obviate the dangers aQnded 
to^ he still aoapled not to ni^ the prosecution. 

*■ Siri" said Dbrby starting, as if a gleam of Ugbt bad shot acrots 



his brain, " a thought has jiat Btrnck me, and I hope it was something 
from above thfit sent it. If there was anj Liad of a sitiutioil, dr, 
that I could fill, and that would heep me is a place of safety where 
(he hathens conldnt get at me, erery thing woald be right ; and be 
the Bune token, sir, now that I think of it, isn't the nndw-gotdership 
of Castle Cumber vacant this minote." 

Lucre who, in fact, bad set his heart on proaecuting and punishing 
the priest, would have gladly made Darby govemor of the best gaol 
in his m^eetj'B dominions, racier than lose Uiis opportonity of efl^ 
ting IiiBpnrpoae. 

"Beet eontented, O^Drive,'' he replied, "yon shall have it-^X 
{dedge myself that you shall have iL My influence is sufficient for 
much more tlinn so paltry a Mfle as that. And now fw the inibr- 

" Ah, sir," replied the other, " that wouldn't mend the matter a bib 
Let it go once abroad that I swore them, and Vd never see to-morrow 
night. Ho, sir, if yon wish him properly prosecuted — and I think I 
ought to know how to do it too ; bnt if yoa wish him properly pun- 
ished, place me first ont of harm's way— out <f the reach o* the 
httVitip ; put me into the sitnatioD before we take a eingte step in 
Uie buuness, then IH be safe and can work in it to some purpoae." 

" It shall be done," said Lucre, " and I will go about it preaantly ; 
but in the meantime the matter rests as it is. If what yon say is 
true, and I believe it is, your own safiB^ depends upon yoar silence." 

"Not a breath," replied Darby; "and now, sir, about what 
LroDght me here— I wanted to say that Pd wish 'to rwoif np(m 
Sunday ncTt." 

" What do you mean i" nsked Lucre. 

"Why, sir, as I said, I don't like to take my religion fnna an 
Attorney— and Pm afbard, beeidee, that h^s not altogether orthybo^ 
in regard that ho hinted once that Qod was ; but, indeed, I dia- 

rememher his words, for it wasn't aiaey to honld them when yon got 

"He, of course ia a Fatalist and Fredestuiarian,'' said Lucre; 
" but what is this yon were abont to say ?" 

" Why, sir, that Vd wish publickly t« read my msompentatiam 19 
ffour church on Snnday next." 

" And why in mj/ church P* asked the proud parson, who felt bib 
vanity touched, not hy anything Darby had yet said, bnt by the Inda- 
scribable expression of fiattery which speared in his face. 

" Why, rir," beni^ed, " bekm ifs given out on all hand« that 

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there's no end to your larnui' — liuit ifa wondherful tbe bo(b you 
wrote — and aa for your preadun', that it 'ud make one think then- 
■elves in heaven, bell, or pnrgatoiy, ■ocoidin' as yon wished." 

" Tory well, (VDrivev reiy well indeed," exclaimed Lucre, oai^t 
on his weakest ude by this artfiil oonpliment : "bat yon mnat forget 
pnigalory— howwrer I can omoeive that it was the mere force of 
halnt that prompted yon to ntter it. Wel^ thra, yon tkM t«ad yoar 
recantation on Sonday, dace yon wish it — there will be about a 
doien or two others, and yon had better attend early. Good day, 

" Flaiae your honour," sidd Darby, who never oonld be honest to 
both parties, " there's a batch if converts outride widtin' to aoe yon g 
bnt between you and m^ I think yon had as well be on your guard 
wid aome <f them i I know what they want" 

" And pray what ie that, (yDrive ?" 

"Why, Uun, for fraid I may be doin' the craQinrs injustice, sir, X 
won't Bay t only jist take my hint^ any how. Good nxvnin' kindly, 

As Dart^ passed the group we have allnded to, he winked at them 
very knowingly, " go up," said he, " go up I say ^^maybe I didn't 
give yes a lift since, and mark me, honld to tbe five guineas a Lead, 
and to be [ODvided for aftherwards. Paddy Cgmmins do yon go np^ 
I say— AamolA latA T 

Paddy went np> and in a few minutes a ragged, famine-wasted 
creature entered, with his old canbeen between his bands, and after 
having ducked down bis bead, and shm^ed his shonldera altematoly, 
atood with on abashed look before Mt, Lucre. 

" Well, my good man, what is your business with me ?" 

To this the coontrynum piepued to reply — first, by two or three 
addititmal rimigs t secondly, by raising his right elbow, and pulling 
op all that remained of tho ctriUar of his tattered oothamoie, or great 
coat, after which he gave a hem. 

" Have yon no tongue, my good fellow J" 

A shrug — "hem — ^why, sir, but that was a great sarmon you 
praiched on last Sunda, plaiae your honour. Faitba, sir, there was 
mighty fine diaooorsin' in it abont raUigion." 

" Oh I the seimon-^d yon hear it, my good man 7" 

" Faitha, sir, I was there sure enough, is spite o* Father M'C»be, 
an* all." 

" Sit down, my good friend, ait down — well, you attonded the 
aemoD, yoa aay— pray how did yon like it 7" 

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** FaitliK, nr, anre nobody could dislike it i bttdad, air, we're k11 
grtMy dmqtpointed wid the priests tAer hettriu' it— H waa woodlieiT 
ful to besr the deep Urnia' jou. brought forridi sir, aginst tlwun, an' 
our cburaii ia gineral. Segad mytdii wtta mightily improred l^y it.* 

" Don't awnr, lltcmgh. Well, jrou. were improrod by it, you aaj : 
pray, what ia yonr name?" 

■' Pm one Faddy Oamnins, sir, ft ehister'B toa o£ " 

" Wall, CanunJM^ I'm very happy to hear that you wen edified i 
apd hi^ier atill that yon had unee to perc^ve the tide upon whioil 
truth lay." 

<■ Faitha, tlun, yavr Teverence, I seen tiat widont muoh thnnUe i 
btit, anre they say, at, Uiere'a to be a power of us toraiu' ovec to yez." 

H [ hope, M, Cummiiu : we an aaxwuB tiiM you ehould aee the 
errors of the creed yon so jgaoraatly profesSt and abandon them." 

" Sure enough, sir i dadi lir, you niniithera ia fine mea, ao you 
uaj then ygt^n m rich, air, plaiae yonr honour t Itey 4o bewyin*, 
rir, that the riFeread gintleBien of your chnnh haa ^ a great deal 
of money' antong them somehow, in regard that it 'ad be needful 
to help poor eratliara that 'ad turn, and to keep them from the 
parsecBtion, itr." 

« Cnmnaina, my good fnend, allow me ta «t yo« right. We nevei 
give a penny of numey to any one for the Bake of bringing bim orei 
to our church ; if WQverts come to us it mnst be fixxn ooBTictia^ not 
fWiin krtmwL" 

OX ■••, alri bnt nn I'm qnt wsntis^ Ike promin at aKlyowf 
bonour — Min I kMw yon mnet ke^ youndf dear any wiy—oalj 
the five guinea a bead that Tia tonld ia to be.giveii.'' 

« Five gnineaa ^ headl Fray, who tola you so ?" 

"Faitha, sir, I coi^^t exactly aayj but erary ooe saya it. Ii's 
Mid we>e (o get fire guioeaa n head, sir. md be pioTided &r aftbar ) 
I bare nice o" them, air ) eight erathnra and Biddy haraetf. 8ke ean't 
spake ^ngUah | bnt^ wid the help o* Ood, I could. coaaHtre it for ber. 
Faith, she'd make a choioe ippodestaa, sir, for wmst aha takes a thing 
into her head, the derU wouldn't get it out. As for me, I don't want 
a prcnniae at all, yonr rerrerence, barrin' that if it 'tid be plaiain' to 
yon, jist to lay your forefli^er along yonr noa&»niecely to diow that 
we undberBtand one anotber— it 'nd be aa good to me as tbe bank. 
The orather on the t^east, your rererence, we'd thnxw in at a luck 
penny, or dhuragh, and little Paddy we'd give at half price." 
*■ Did you hear all this ?" 
" Fidths, then, we did, sir ; and, sure as you don't Kke to have tlia 



thing known, I can keep my tongue atwecn my teeth u well u «:'er * 
other cooTart Uvia'~-«n' aa fitf Biddy, bymlj kee^nu' her from tba 
dhrink, ahe's as cioaa u die gste of hoann to B hftretio. Bedftd, elr, 
this new light bates every thing." 

" Wy good &iend, Cnnunin^ I toll you I htTC BO money to glvc^ 
neither ia th4n any to be given— for the eake of oMiTtrSion t but, if 
yoor ootioni of yo«r own religion an uoMttted, put yooitelf under 
Lord — — *■ ohupMi* } and if, m the doe ootuse of tlnM, Im Unnks 
you raffloienfly ixqrored to embrace our fiutb, you and your fernU^ 
may be ^ded by some comfits toilatde to yotur condition." 

Cummins'a bee lenglbened vidbly at m IntbrnlioB whieh throw him 
BO Eur tnaa bia expeastioM ; the troth being, that be calctilat*d npon 
fsoearing the mcmey tibe moment he Bhonld read hii recfetitation. Ho 
loAed at Ur. Lncre again at d gnifioautfy aa he eoidd — gare Us bead 
a scrateh of ramonetranoe . . alrfagg^d hiiBBelf aa before-~rubbed hia 
elbow— toraed round Ins hat slowly, examined its sltape, and gave it 
» martdr nt, after which he gave a dry hem, and prepared to epeak. 

Til bear nothing farther on the rabject," said the other; "with- 

Without men ado Ciuamina rinak out of tiie room, highly disap- 
pointed, but still not withont hopes fr(»n Lord -, to whom, or his 

chiylain, he reeolved to ^>ply* Li the meantime ito made the best of 
hia way home to Us starrlDg wife and ehildreit, without having 
coMPMidcatrd the rosvlt of his virit to those who were assembled at 
Oaglebe howe. 

H« luubBearoely left the hail door wlicn another claimant for ad- 
miaaioD preae&ted Uaieelf in the person of a huge, tattered fellow. 
with rod stiff hair, standing «p like reed^ tlirongh lS» broken crown 
of his hat^ which ho took off on entering. This candidate for Fro- 
ififfiintinm had neither shoe nor atoeking on him, bat atalked in, leaving 
the prints of his oolossal feet upon t!ie haD thrortgh which he passed. 

"WeD, friend, what is wrong with you? Why didn't yon rub 
your filthy fbel, dr, before you entered the room? See bow you 
have soiled my carpet 1" 

" I beg you- haaaw^e pardlag," aaid the huge fellow ; " 111 soon 
anrs that," Having said which, he trotted np to the hearth-rug, in 
which, before Lucre bad time even to speak, by a wipe fhun each 
bot. Its left two Immenae alieaks of mud, which we guess took some 
kard scrabbing to remove. " Ifow, year honour, I hope Til do." 

Lucre saw it was uselesa to remonstrate with him, and aaid, with 
BMre tender llum coidd be expected — 



" Man, fflutt'a jout business i" 

" I como, BiiTB," — ^this man had a hftbit of pronoQiiciog sir u rifi% 
wMch hfi could nerer OTeroome — " to tell your reverence to eater me 
down at wanst" 

^'FoT wliftt pnrpoae eLould I enter yoa down?" 

•< For the money, sim ; I have aeven o" diem, and well «11 go. 
You uMj ohriaten as if yoa ]A.e, tarn. *Deed I'm toidd we BU£t &11 
be chrishenp4.over *gii>( an' in that ct^e, m^ybe it 'od be [dMun' to 
jpi) to qtand godfather for me yonrself, Tonr reTerence." 

" What dQ you mooni' — but I snppooe I nndeiatand yon." 

t'l laean, girra, to bocome a Fiodeatao — I an' mj family. I'm 
Kiekej Feaathalagfa, that waa im on Buapicion o^ the bumin' of 
Nugenf a haj i an4 t^tbmt Are craaaeB, I was as innooent of that as the 
(shild onlwni, bo I was. Sure they couldn't prove an me, an' becoorse 
J come oat wid flyin' coloors, ^<Mry be to God I Here I am noW| sir ; 
an' a right good Frodestan 111 make, when I come to nnderatand it^ 
An' let me fwbisper thif^ urra, HI be dam useful in Eairs and markets 
to help the Orangemen te lick ourselves, your honour, in a skrimmage 
or party fight, or any thing o' that kidney." 

" I am sorry, Nick Fiatoloi as you say your itaine is -.— " 

" Nickey, vrra," 

"Well, Nipkey, or Nick, or whatever it may be, I am sorry to say 
that yon w<^'t do. Tou are too great an omament to your own creed 
ever to sliiqe in qtira- I hq[)pen to know yonr charact^ — begone." 

"Is Misthre Lucre widin?" asked a third candidate, whose wife 
accompanied hjm; "if he ia,may be you'd tell him that oneBantey 
(rrattan wiabes to have a thrifle <^ speech wid bia honour.** 

" Ciane in," stud the servant, with a smiUk after having acquainted 
her master, 

The man and his wife accordingly eqtored, having first wiped their 
feet as they had been ordered. 

" Well, my good man, whaf s your buainess 7" 

*■ Boaha, ^ill you let hie honour know wliat we wqr ^takiu' about ? 
Bhell teU you, sir." 

« PUise your honour," wid die, " we're oonvarls." 

" Well," said Mr. Lucre, " that at least is coining to the pcnnt. 
And, pray, my good woman, who converted yon?" 

" Faix, the accounts thaf a abroad, sir, about the gtnUemen fnm 
Dublin, thaf s so full of lomin', your reverence, and so rich, they 

^' Then it waa the mere ocoountf that wzooght this chuge is 700?" 

r^B. zed oy Google 


" DhatiMu ortk a Rothof go dke skin tUier tku t"' add the husband, 
ip Irish ; for be felt that the wife was more explicit than waa 
necessaiy. " Never heed beri air ; the crathnr, jour revereace, is so 
throngh other, that ahe doesn't know what ahe'a sayin', especiallj 
apakin' to so honourable a gjntlem&n as joar reverence." 

" Then Ipt na bear your version, or rather yonr conversion." 

** Uyaelf, sir, does be thinkin' a great de^ about these docthrines 
and jinnyologiea that people is now all mnnin' upon. I can tell a 
story, lii, at a wake, or an 017 iailee wid a neighbour, as well as e'er 
a man in the five parishes. The people say I'm very long headed all 
out, and can see far into a ttiing. They do^ indeed, plaise your 

"Very good," 

" EKd you ever bear about one Fin M'Cool, who was a great bnfier 
in his d^y, and how his wife put the tzick upon a big bosthoon of a 
giant t^t came dpwn from Uiinater ^> leather Fin? pid yon evef 
hear that, sir j" 

" No i neither do I wish to hear it jnst now." 

*'Nor thesongof 'BealDei^O'DonueVsirt nor the 'Faiiy River;' 
nor ' the Life and Adventures of Larry Dorpeen's Ass,' plaise your 
reverence P" 

" No — but I wish you would allow your wife to relate your 
business here." 

" Well, ^, the people says Fm veiy long beade^ an' can see ^ar 

JBtO a thing " 

"Btt^my good man, I care not what the people say — teU.jlonr 
itory briefly." 

« — —An' can see far into a thing, your reverence ; bekaise I'm long 
Iieaded. All long headed people, sir, is cute, an' do you know why 
they're cute, sir ? No yon don't, but 111 tell you— bekaise they're 
long headed. Now, sir, what 'ud yOu tbink to turn Eoman Catholio 
awhile, till I'd malivogue you in arguin' Scripthur ? — I want to 
move to yon, sir, that I'm the boy that nndherstanda things." 

" Wba^a yonr business with me ?" 

"Will yoD thry it, sir, and yonll see how Fll sober you u> your 
bean's d^ht" 

" What brought yonr husband to me, my good WMOan ?" 

"Bke dha Aiut&s fag a rogarah lunua.'^ 



" He's comin' to it, plaise your reverence," said the wife. 

•* Well, dr, BO yon see, bein' given to deep ways of thinkiu' o* my 
own, I had many boats at ai^;niii' Scriptbor — as every long headed 
man baS| of coono — an yestherday meetin' wid Brian Brt^han, tbe 
mealman — him tliat keeps it np on the poor, sir — be challenged me, 
but, in three sUpa of a Scotch Gray, I Backe<t him cloner than one 
of his own meal bagf^ and dusted him aftherwardu : — < so,' eays he, 
• Histher Orattan, see what it is fo be long headed' ' 

" Kb mne," observed Lucre, " to be long winded. Ccnne to as 
end, sir* 

" i ' Long headed,* says he ; ' u^ of coorse you'D be takin' the 
money,' says Broghanj 'what mon^?* says I. 'Why, the five 
guineas,' says he, ' that the Biblemen is givin' to every one that will 
torn wid them, if he happens to be long headed — bat otherwise, not 
a penny.' So sir, myself, you see, bavin' the intintron to oome over 
long afoM that, I thought it 'ud be best to do it now, for fndd yea 
might think it was for the money I am doin' it. Bnt is there mcb a 
thing, sir 7" 

" Not a penny, and so you may tcU your friends." 

"Well, but, sir, grantin' that, still yonll acknowledge that I'm 

" No) only long winded." 

*■ Not long headed, then ?" 

" Noi oertainly not" 

" Damnu orth a veeho»ee bradagh /* come Bosha. Not long 
beaded 1 troth if s a poor religion to depind on — an' I'll moke a show 
of it yet, if Fm spared. Cmne, w<anan alive." 

Honest Bam^ was the last bat one who was honoured by a 
he&ring, though not the last, by a Boore, of those who expected it, 
and, sooth to say, the appearance of that one threw the whole pro- 
ceedings into such exquisite ridicule, that we cannot resist the 
temptation vS giving his claims and arguments a place among the 
rest. The omvert In qneation was no other than our old ^end 
Rt^/motid-na-kaUka, or Saymond of the hats ; who, moved by the 
example of others, and only possessed of a ^m notion of the canae 
that brought them together, came among them Irom that vague motive 
of action which prompts almost every creature like him to make ono 
in a crowd, wherever it may assemble. The mind of poor Raymtnid 
was of a very anomalous character indeed ; for his memory, which 

• D n you for a tagalMnd fceimdiel 1 


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'^'„,,„„..,/^ l."'^C»/,„ >.-,y,„.U M, 

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wu wondeTfiil, mocnmitUted ia one heterDgeiieona mus, all the inci- 
dante ia (rhidi be had ever taken aay part, oad theae w«re called oui 
of the eopfiMJoa, preciMl; m nme chord of BHOcialdon happened to 
ha atmck in anj oonTsnatiai which be bdd. For this renwn he 
■ometiniea nttored sentimBtitd that wmd^ hsre ooote wHh more pro- 
faixty tana the iipa of a ptoMopber dun a (ooi, ud again fell to 
the lerd of purA idp>tifm,: so tjngnlar WeCQ' hifl alterna^ona Cram 
•enae to nondehM* : hud^a portei^ hi&uelf a wa{^ knew perfectly 
well what wu gi^ng filiiratd, and, iadobd, took Yvy cqnritlerabiB 
delight in the moresMut ' fVlien Baymond pnaeated hinuelf, the 
porto^ to -whom he waa vnywtll' known, deteEmiped, for t|be joke's 
sake, that be shooM have tiie honcAtr of an intarmw aa well as the 
ttost; I/aaa, aa we said, being bat 'Mldam at Caslle Cnmttei, was 
ignorant of Bajinonfa p^attn' oad thanaWt an^ indeed, wa may 
add, tiiat he stood in a podtiiMt aeariy aimilar with lefpect to almost 
termj oitAfji his own'flock. ."WIiBn, B^mond enba^ef^ then, he was 
addieesed in mnch the same tenna aa tbe others 

" WeQ, ficiaod,' irbat ia yoilT.bnBineaa? — Soha^ admit no aor^ ^"1 
let-dka eantag* coma nraod-^are yoa a cowrstt ^bo?". 
. <*Tes,Iam( whathaT«7(AltagiT«me7"- 
- ."* A pore abd peaoafid reUgiu^ ay fiitind." 


^iaihia book—this ie.tlMwerdof Q«d> tint iffowlieth peaca andi 
saliiatiaL td alL" 

" iba Val H'Chitaliy tlus boek P* 

*• Of eoane he hss-4t is not to be st^poeed that suck a man could 
ba withoot i^ or ignoraat of iL" 

Bi^mond put it np to bis nose, and after seeming to smell it, said, 
with a stHMg Bhadder, " bow: did yoa do tiiii among you ? — ho <-■ did 
jva do b?.*-li»k at it.-^«ee, see i^a dripping wid Uood— here's mur- 
der oil tUa pag^ Uierrfs'.tlarTation on tihat-r-there'* tlie Uood^hoiuda 
honttf — lo<d, nr, look at the poor orefttnre wuMt worn down, makin' 
Ua w^ to hide, bnt he can't ; tkeiy have him, they have him— see 
hew they drag Ibb, as if he was a— ay, drag, drag, he's yours now, 
Wa y o u t fc .. whip and seoa^e, whip and seourge— more Uood) more 
blood — and floa is it, lUs — don't yon sea it, siri oomin' down in dn^ 
when I bonld te np that way ?" 

" My good friend, yon are certainly in liquor~your language is 
that of a man strongly affected by drink." 

" And this ia it I" Bsynond proceeded ;— " ktok at this page; that's 
not the one the bbod to on ; no, no, tben^s nothing here but madness. 



Ah I" said lie, lowering bis voice to a tone of deep compsadon, " gnn 
she's mad ; the; killed Hugh (yBegtn, and tfacj killed the two siaia, 
and thrai she went mad — eo, jau aea, there it is now— on that pags 
there's blood, and, on this one, with the big letter on it, thara's 
madnega. Then agin cwnea the Tnrnin' out How woaU 70a like 
to walk three long, dreaiy miles, in sleet, and &oet, and snow, havin 
no house to go to — wid thin breeches to fou, an' nutybe a hda in 
them — widont shoe or etockin' on your hoores— wid a ooaple <tf 
shireritt*, half starved, sick childhn, tied by an onld praakeen to 
jonr back, ai^ 70U sinkin' wid hunger all the time—ay, aa' the tail 
<f jota onld coat blown np behind every minnts, like a sparrow 
before the wind P — Eh, how wonld yon like it 7" 

Lncre still stuck to tlie hypotheus oi liqaor, and accordingly went 
and rang the porter's bell, who immediately appeared. 

"John," said his master, ** I derire yon will immediately show this 
man out— he is so scandalously afibcted with liqaor, that he knows 
not the purport of his own language." 

John approached bis master with a face of awfnl terror:—" For 
God's sake, sir," said he, " don't say a word that might cross him— 
sure he's the great madman, Ratfrttond-a-hat&a. Just sit still, and 
let him take his own way, and he'll do no harm in life ; qipear to 
listen to him, aqd hell be like a child ; bat if yon go to li»r»hn«— , 
he'd tear yon, and me, and all thal^s in tlte house, into minoed meat" 

Once more did Lucre's countenanoe lose its accustomed hue; but, 
on this occasion, it assumed the colour of a duck egg, or something 
between a bad white and a bad blue. " My good Mend," said he, 
" will you please to take a seat — John, stay in the room." This he 
said in a whisper, 

" Tliere," proceeded Baymond, who had been busily engi^ed in 
examining the pages of the bible,' " there is the page where that's on 
—the Pnttin' out in the doads and storm of heaven — there it is on 
Aat page. Lbok at the ould man and the ould woman there — see 
them tremUin'. Don't cry— don't cry; but they are— see the widow 
there wid her orphans— there's a sick boy in that other hoaa^— 
and a poor sick girl in that other house — see, they're all errin'-T' 
all ciyin'- for tbey most go out, and on sich a dajl All that, 
now, is i^MHi these two other pages, bekaise, you see, no one page 
would hoold aQ that. But see here — her^s a page wid only one 
sido of it covered — let us see what's on it. Ob, ay— here's tba 
poctf orathnr'D childre, wid the poor £sther and the poor mother. 
but they have one cow still to give milk to moisten their bib Ha^ 


hb — look again— tliere she goes off to the ponndl Don't cry, poor 
belplees crathars; bnt how can yon belp 0710' when yonr poor 
mother's cryin* ? That^a a bitter thing ioo, and il^s on this page — see 
— that — tfiat — that^s it Vve between my flngere — ^look at it— how 
wet it ia wid the poor crathnr's tears ; but there's no blood here — no, 
no—nothing bnt tears. Oh here — see hei&~a la(b as big as the 
rest, but wid nothing an it. A7, 1 know that — that* s an enqitjr farm 
that nobody dare take, or woe be to them^ Bnt here — I seen him" 
— here he shuddered strongly — "I seen him! His father and 
mother wor both stondin' ondher him — ^that was the worst of alL 
If 8 in this pi^e. He was only one-and-twenty, And the eyes he 
had I but how did it happen, that althoagh they hanged him, every 
one loved him P I seen his father and the poor mother looking np 
Ut the gallows where he stood, and then she fainted, and she then 
got sick, and she went to htm, and poor oold Brian has nobody now 
but himself; and all that^a on this page." Here poor Baymcmd shed 
tears, so completely was he overpowered by the force of his own 
imaginings. He again proceeded— "And the poor wlute-beaded 
son 1 What wonld'nt the poor mother give to have his white head 
to look at f bnt he will never waken— he wQI never waken more> 
Vhaf s the name of this book ?" he inquired of Ur. Lucre. 

"ISj excellent ud most intelligent fricmd," replied that gentle- 
man, in a tone of meekness and humility that would have shamed an 
apostle — i" my most interesting &iend, the name of that book is tbe 

"TheBiblel oh yea} bat am I doin' it rightP' he inquired; "am 
I pntdn' the explanations to it as I ought ? Sure they all explain 
i^ and if s iHily fair that Baynxmd should show his lamin' as weU as 
any<^ them. Let us see, then — mnrdher and bloodshed, hangin' and 
etarvin', huntin', pnrahnin', whippin', cowld and nakedness, hunger 
and sickness, death, and then madnees, and ti>en death agin, and then 
damnation 1 Did I explun it P" 

"Perfectly, my friend— nothing can be better." 

" Well, then, think of it ; an' now all these things is done in the 
name of the — the— Bible I ay, thaf a it ; bnt these aren't my exj^a- 
nations — thongh I know who puts them to that bad book I Don't 
th^ take all I said out of it ? They do, and sure don't you see the 
poor people's blood, and tears, and everrthing upon it t sure all I 
B^d is in it. Hare," be exdumed, dioddering, " take it away, or 
maybe ifll make me as wicked as tbe rest of yon. But, afther all, 
maybe it's not the fault of the book, but of the people." 


ft« VAltNTIHE MklttltcaT, 

- It would indeed be difficult te find k more friglitfiil odnuaeat Ofob 
the crimes and atrodtiee whieh have been perpetnled in thk divided 
oonntiy, in the Bune. and ander the ohamelar of religioa, thaa that 
wUoh iMned, with a kind o£ raetiiodioal iReoheroBCf, fnun the lipi of 
Bt^momd-na-haUia. Wben he had eonclodedt Mr. Lnore, haTing 
first wiped the big dn^ oE penpiratioD ftom hia forehead, polilfil/ 
■eked him if there ^a> anytiiiiig he eould do for him ? 

" Ob ay," said he ; " bat first bring me a lamp of good matCi and 
a quart of porther." 

"Teu shall have iL John, ring tlie beU. Yoa are a rtiry inte- 
resting person, Mr.— Jlr.— " 

" Saf/mond-^ia'hatlha, dr." 

" Hr. Baiment—reij interesting, indeed. (Good Ood t am I to 
ran die risk of being strangled in my own hoose by a madman 1) 
Oh— here, Alick ; faring np some oidd meat and a bottle of porter> 
AoTthing to make yon comfortable, my good sir." . 

" I tmly want to see if all's right, rir," said Baymoad, and I'U tall 
yov why by-and^by." This was followed by a look of most intiabia 
distresB from Luote to hia eerrant, John. 

Baymond no sooner saw the cold beef and bread laid down, to* 
getber with a bottle of porter, than ha oommeneed an exhibbion, 
whieh first awoke Mr. Loor^s astoniBhrnen^ next his admintion. 
and lastly his cmry. SxymoaSi perfMmaaoe, lunrerver, was of Hiat 
rare description which loses by too freqnent practioe, and is oi^ 
seen to advantage when the opportnnities for exhibition are few. 
lliree mortal poonds baring at lengtii diaB{^ieBred, together with 
Aa greater part of a qoartem loaf, and two bottles of porter — foi 
Baymond had made bold to call for a second — ha now wiped his 
mouth with the cuff of his coat Aral, and aAenrards, by way of a 
mora delicate touch, with the gathered palm of his hand ; then, 
toiling at Mr. Locre— who sat perspiring with terror in his gorgeoos; 
tiosy chair — our readers may jndge of the eaae it just then commo' 
nicated to that rernend gentleman, when he said, " i^s all right 
enough, sir." 

" Vta delighted to hear it," replied Mr. Lnere, applying the tnd»- 
rMmu once more, with a very nerrons and qnirering hand, to his 

•Is there anything else in which I can sea-ve you, my good friend ?" 

" Tes, there is — all's right ; Pre now ma<1e the thrial, and it wHl 
do—T want to bonow the loan of yonr religion till the new praties 

r^cinzedoy Google 


<* Tou Hball hftv« it, m^ wortlij feDoir — 70a (hall have ii, with 
yerj great pleasure." 

« Hie raison vhf I came to jfou for it," saM Bajonood, who evi- 
dently) in thia joke, had been put np h; bohw one, " was bekaise I 
was toold that if a as good u new with 70a—' ttldom tatd Itutt 
tong^ yon know — but, such as it is, ni bony it, for— «h, there now, 
that* e one ; all rights all right" — pointiDg to the fragments of the 
meat and bread — " I wouldn't ax betther ) so, till the praties comea 
in, jnst mind Pll take care of it; and, if I don't bring it back aafe, 
ni bring you a betther one in its place." He then nodded familiarly 
to Mr. Lucre, and left the house. The latter felt aa if be breathed 
new life once more, but he eould not ao readily pardon the man 
for admitting him. 

" What is the reason, sir," he asked, bis face reddening, "that yon 
anfllered that formidable madman to get into the house P* 

" Why sb," replied the porter, " when I opened the hall door, he 
abot In like a bolt ; and, as for preventing him after that, if I had 
attempted it, he^d have bad "rae in fragments long ago. When he^ 
not opfoaeA, sir, or crosaed, he's quiet aa a lamb, and wouldn't hurt a 
ehild ; bnl, if he's vexed, and won't get his own way, why ten »etl 
wouldn't stand hhn." 

" Take care that he shall nerer be admitted here again," moA bla 
master ; " I really am quite dlatrtrbad and nerrouB \fj his eondnot 
and language, which are perftotly unintdHgible. Indeed, X am abso- 
lutely unwell— the shock was awfnV and to oectir on Bach a day, 
too— I iear mj appetite will be very mueh adfeoted by it — a drcum- 
stasce which would be dlstresrang beyond belief. 8top — perhaps it 
is not yet too late— ask Francis la the vwison down, and. If doI^ 
derire him not to dreas it to-day — I am out oi iqipetlte any." - 

John went, and in a couple of minutes returned } " lyanois aayi 
it> down, air, for some time," replied the>aian, " and that it must be 
, dressed, otherwise it will be spoiled. 

"And this is owing to you, yon scoundrel,'' said bis master in a 
rage — "owing to your neglect and caielessneas t bot there ts no 
irfadDg dependaoce upon one of yon. See, yon rascal, the poaitiMi 
in which Z am ] here ia a delicEoua haunch of venison for dinne>^ 
and now I am so much agitated nod out of order, that my appetite 
wiO be quite gone, and it will be eaten by others before my ftwe 
while X cannot touch It. For a very tride I would this moment dis- 
charge you tton my service, you n^ligent vilUn T 

" I am very sorry, sir, but the truth " 



" Begone f ou sconndrel, and kare the nxmi, or I shall honewhip 

John disappeared, and this great and zealous prop of FrotestanU 
ism walked to and fro his stodj, almoet gnashing his teeth from the 
apprehension of not having an appetite for the haunch of rsnison. 

CHAPTEft Xlil. 

A CoKTRonnsiAi. msoussioR, togkthxb wnu the TtKTuxa i-t 
PKODDcan — dakbt'b bkixf xxTntxmKT fkox rnnuc unt. 

OuK readers may recollect that Darbjr, in his pleasant dialogue witii 
Father M'Cabe, slluded to a man named Bob Beatty, as a person 
afflicted with epilepsy. It was then reported that the priest had 
miracnlonsly cured him of that complaint ; hat, whetlier he had or 
no^ one dung, atleas^ was certain, that he became a Roman Catholic, 
and went regularly to mass. He had been, in ttct, exceedingly 
notorious for his violence as an Onugeman, and was what the people 
then termed a bloodhound, and the son of a mao who had earned an 
unenviable reputation as a Tarj hunter i which means a person who 
devoted the whole energies of his li£^ and brought all the rancour of 
religious hatred to the task of pursuing and capturing such unfortu- 
nate Catholics as came within grasp <£ the penal laws. Beatty, like 
all eonvecla, the mranent he embraced the Boman Catholic creed, 
became a most outrageous opponent to the prindlplea of Prater 
tantism. Every Orangeman and Protestant must he damned, and it 
stood to reason they shoald, for didn't they oppose the Pope 7 Bob^ 
tktm, aaaa nn especial proUgi o{ Father H'Cab^s, who, on his part, 
had very little to cOKplain of in his convert, unless it might be the 
diffleul^ of overcoming a habit of strong swearing which had 
wrought itself so closely into bis conversation, that he must eltber 
remain altogether silent, or let fly the oaths. Another slight weak- 
ness, which was rather aimoying to the priest, toot ccmsiEted in a 
h^it Bob had, when any way affected with liquor, of drinking, in 
the very fervour of his new-bom seal, that celebrated old Orange 
toast, " to hell with the Pope 1' These^ however, were but mere 
specks, and would be removed in time, by inducing better habits. 
Now, it so happened, that on the day in question, Bob wu wending 



his wft^ to Father H'Cnbe's, to communicate some matter couiected 
with his religious feelings, and to ask his advice and opinion. 

" How coDfoundedl}' blind the world is," thought Bob, " not to tee 
that Popery" — ■ he never called it any thing else — " b the true faith! 
Cnrae me hat priest H'Cabe ia a famous fellow I — zoundai what an 
Orangeman he would make ! — he's just the cut for it, an* it's a thou- 
•and pities he's not one — huti what the hell am I iKjia' ? They say 
he's cross, and ill tempered, but I deny it — isn't he patient, escepl 
when in a passion P and never in a pasaion unless when he's pro- 
voked ; what the d — ^1 more would they have ? I know I let fly an 
oath myself of an odd time, (every third word, good reader,) but, 
then, sure the Euth is never injured by the vessel that contains it. 
Begad, but I'm sorry for my father, thongh, for, as there's no sslva* 
tion out o' Popery, the devil of it is, that he's lost beyond purchase." 

In such eccentric speculations did Bob amuse himself, uniil, in 
consequence of the rapid pace at which he went, he overtook a 
fellow-traveller, who turned out to be no other than our friend Darhy 
(yOnve. There was, in fact, conaidering the peculiar character of 
these two converts, something irresistibly comic in this encounter. 
Boh knew Lttle or nothing of the Roman Catholic creed; and, as for 
Darby, we need not say that he was thoroughly ignorant of Frotes-. 
tantism. Tet, nothing could be more certain — if one could judge 
by the fierce controversial cock of Bob's hat, and the sneering con* 
temptuous expression of Darby's face, that a hard battle, touching 
the safest way of salvation, was about to be fought between them. 

Boh^ indeed, had of late been anxious to meet Darby, in order, as 
he said, to make him " show the cloven fool, the rascal ;" but Darby's 
ire against the priest was now up i and besides, he reflected that a 
display of some kind would recommend him to the Beformationists, 
especially, be hoped, to Mr. Lucre, who, he was resolved, should hear 
iL The two converts looked at each other with no charitable aspect. 
Darby was about to epeok, but Bob, who thought there was not a 
moment to be lost, gave him a controversiul facer before h6 had time 
to utter a word : — " Uow many articles in your church ?" 

" How many articles in my church 1 There's one bad one in j/our 
church more than ought to be in it, since they got you : — but can 
yon tell me how many sins cry to heaven for vingeance on you* you 
poor lost hathen ?" 

*' Don't hathen me, you had bcUher ; but answer my question, you 
rascally heretic" 

" Heretic, inagh t ob, thin, is it Irom a barefaced jdolather lika 



70U that -WB hear heMtio called to v* 1 Faith, itfa «oaie to a purty 
time o' day wid ufl V 

■ " Yon're a Ueseed convart not to know tlie .foi^-Dim ariialeB of 
yom fat eatabUshment P* 

" And m faotdd a wager that jon don't know this mimte Iiow 
many aaikermenta in toot idolaUirf. Oh, what a awaggerin' Catholic 
yoa are, 7011 pow hair-brained vagabone I" 

" I belieTC 7<on found some ooivlacii^ texts in tlie big purse of the 
biblft blsckguardo— -do jon smell Hmt, Darbjr V 

" Ton hare a foil pane, tbey eaj ; bat, bjr the time Father H*Cabe 
takes the price of your tran^fessions out of it— as he wont fail to 
do — ^take mj word for it, il^ be as lank as a Btocking without a leg 
in it — do Ton smeU that. Bob, ahagnr 7" 

" Where was jonr church before the Eefomiati<Mi 7" 

" Where was yoor 6we before it was washed r" 

"Do you know the four pillars that your Church rests upon? 
because if you don't, I'll tell yon — ^it was Harry the dgth, Martin 
IfOther, the Law, and the DeviL Put that in yonr pipe and smoke it. 
Ah, what a purty boy yon are, and what a deludin' face you're got !*- 

"So the prieflt's doin' yon — ^he's the very man can plnck a fat 
goose, Boh," 

" Dont talk of ptnckin' geese — ^you have taken some feathers out 
o* the bible Uades, by all accounts. How do you expect to be saved 
Iqr jtunin* an open heresy ?" 

" Whisht, you hathen, that has taken to idolathry bekase Father 
H'Cabe made an ass of you by a thrick that every one knows. But 
I tell you to your brazen fitce, that youll be worse yet than ever yon 

"Tou disgraced your family hy tumin' apostate, and we know 
what for. Little Solomon, the greatest rogue nnhanged, gave you 
the onty grace you got or ever will get." 

" Why, you poor turncoat, isn't the whole country laughin' at jmu 
and none more than your own friends. The great fightin' Orangeman 
and blood-hound turned voteen I — oh, are we alive afther that t" 

" The blagnard bailiff and swindler turned swaddler, hopin' to get a 
fatter cut from the bible blades, oh I" 

" Have you your bades about you? if yon have, Ptl throuhle yon 
to give us a touch of your Padareen Fartha. Orange Bob at hii 
Fadareen Parthal ha,Iu,haP 

" You know much about Protestantism. Bbw ne, hut it's a tin 
to see such a knavish scoundrel proEeaung it." 

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" It^B » gTMtM- un, yoa oraago omitdhawi), tf aee the like* a' jon 
diagTwuB* the ba4e4 *ii' the blessed reli^on yon tnpit fui yqu." 

" Too ware no dagrace, then, to the one yow left; but you are a 
bumia* aoaadal to t^ one jon joined, and they ooj^t t(t ki/^ yov 
oat of jL" 

In fact) both cosTerta, in tbo bittemesa of their hatred, wen 
bepnning to fo^pt the new characters they bad to support) and tp 
glide baek nncooxnoiuly, or, we ahould rather say, by $he fiarce of 
«oatgfeneei i» their orfgiQid creeds. 

" If Father M'Cafae was wise he'd send yon to the heretics ngfin" 

" If the Protestants regarded their own chsnacter, ^d the deceney 
«f their Fflligioo, they'd send yon bqck to your cnraed Popeiy, wben 
yon ongbt to be." 

" It's no beef atin' ereed, any WRy,' s)ud Darby, who bad, withont 
knowing it, became once qu»e fk Stonnqh Papist, " oars isn't." 

*'It's one of knfiyeiy and rognery," replied Bob} "sure devil a 
thing one of yon knows <sily to believe in your PQpp." 

" Tod had betther not ab^se the Pope," said Darby, " for fraid Fd 
give you a touch e* your oold oomplunt, the Cdlin* sickness, you 
know, wid my fisL" 

" Two oonld play at that game, Darby, and I say, to hell with 
him — and the priests are aH knaves and rogues, every one of them/ 

" Ale they, fiuth," said DaT]^> " here's an ^wer for tliat, any 

" Text for tex^ yon Popish rascaL" 

A fierce battle took ]^aoe oa the open highway, which was fought 
with intense bitterness oa both sides. The centeat, which was pretty 
eqnal, nught, however, have bem terminated by the defeat of one of 
fhen^ had they been permitted to fight without support on either 
ni» t this, however, was not to bo. A tderaHy large orowd, com- 
posed of an equal number of Catholics and Protestants, collected 
frmn the adjcnbing fields, where th^ hod been at Ubour, immediatoly 
joined (hem. Their appearance, nnhi^pUy, had only the efibct of 
jmewing the battle, ^e CatboCcs, igoorant of the turn whioh the 
eontiovjir^y had taken, sui^orted Bob and Protestantism i whilst the 
Froteetuits, owing to » similar '""f»'"v fought like deyils for Darby 
Md the Yofi. A pretty smart skirmish, in fact, which lasted more 
than tvftttu aaiantes, took ^ace between the parties, and were it not 
llwt their wives, sisten, daughteni, and mothers, assisted by many 
mi» w#i» BKve peaoeably disposed, threw themselves between them, 
it might have been much more serious than it was. If the we^oni 



of warfare ceased, however, so did not tb^ tongues ; there woa 
nbund&ncs of nutic coDtroverBj exchanged between them, that is to 
say, polemical ocarrility much of the same enlightened character, as 
that in the preoeding dtah^ne. The fact of the two parties, toos 
that came to their assistance, having mistaken the proper grounds of 
the quarrel, reduced Darb^ and Bob to the necessitj of retradng 
their atepe, and hoisting once more their new cokinra, otberwiae their 
respective friends, had they discovered the Uander they had com- 
mittedi would, unqooBtionabl;, have fooght ibe battle a second time 
on its proper merita. Bob, escorted by his Catholic frienda, who 
■houted and hurraed as thej went along, proceeded to Father 
UfCab^s ; whilst Darby and his adherents, following their example^ 
went toward U'CIutchy's, and having left him within sight ot Coo- 
ttitution Cottage, thej returned to their labour. 

We have already said) that neither M'Clutchy nor M'Sliim^ wa 
at all a favourite with Darby. Darby was naturally aa avaricious, 
and griping, and oppressive as either of them ; and as he was the 
principal instrument of their rapacity and extortion, he deemed it 
but fair and just that they should leave him at least, a reasonable 
share of their iniquitous gains. They were not^ however, the gentle- 
men to leave much behind them, and the upshot was, that Darby 
became not only highly dissatisfied at th^ conduct' towards him, but 
jealous and vigilant of all their movements, and determined to w^h 
an opportunity of getting them both into his power. Mr. SBme's 
trick about M'CIutchy'B letter first awoke his suspicions, and the 
reader is already acquainted with the dexterous piece of piety by 
which he secured it. Both letters were now in his possession, or at 
least in a safe place ; but as he had not yet read them, he did not 
exactly know what line of conduct or deportment to assume. Than, 
how face M'Clntcby without M'Slime's answer? Darby, however, 
was fertile, and precisely the kind of man who could, as they say, 
kill two birds with the one stone. He had it ; just the very thing 
that would serve every purpose. Accordingly, instead of going to 
H'Clutchy's at all, he turned his steps to his own house ; tied an 6U 
stocking round his head, got his face bandaged, and deliberately bxA 
to his bed in a very severe state of illness. And, indeed, to (ell tbs 
truth, a day or two in bed was not calculated to do him the least 
harm, but a great deal of good ; for, what, between the united con* 
tribntions of Father M'Cabe and Bob Beatty, he was by no meant 
an unfit subject for the enjt^ment of a few d^ retirement ftoa 
public life. 

Dcinzedoy Google 

tut IftlSH AGUfT. 



At length the hoiur of Mary M'LougUia'a «ppointmaiit with Fhil. 
arrived, and tba poor girl found henelf bo oompletelj divided between 
the contending principlea of love for Hannan, and KTenion towuds 
Pliil, that she scarcelj knew the pntport tri* her thongbtl or actions. 
Haiman'a safety, however, wai the predominant idea in her Bonl, and 
in order to effect that, or at lea«t to leave nothing andone to effect it, 
■he resolved, aa pure and diainteresled attachment always will do, to 
ancrifioB her detestation for yonng U'Clatchy, so far as to give hint 
an oppcortanitj of satisfying her that he was sincere in visliiiig to 
save her lover. This setting aside her invincible and inBtinotiv* 
hatred of that worthy gentleman, was, she thought, not at least un- 
reasonable, and with ber mind thus regulated she accordingly awaited 
the appointed time. On reaching the back of her father's garden 
she found that Phil had oot arrived, bat somewhat to her relief she 
was accosted by Poll Dot^in, who approached from a clnmp of trees 
that stood in deep and impenetrable shadow, whilst she and Poll were 
easily viuble under the dim light of what is called a watoy and 
oloody moon. 

Poll, aa she addressed her, spoke eagerly, and her voice trembled 
with what ^>peared to Mary to be deep and earnest agitation. 

" Hiss M'Longidin," she exclaimed in a low, but tremulous voice, 
**! now forgive your father all'— I forgive liim and his — you I need 
not foi^^ve, for I never bore yon ill will — but I am bound to tell yott 
tliat there's danger over your father's house and hearth this night, 
lliere is but one con save them, and lie wilL Ton must go into your 
own (ocmi, raise the window, and he will soon be there." 

*' What is that Poll P" sud Mary, seriously alarmed ; " I thought I 
heard the sound of low voices among the trees there. Who are tJiey, 
or what is it ?" 

"Make haate^" said Poll, leading the way, "go round to your room 
and come to the window. It'x an awful biuiness— there it people 


there In the damp — be quick, and when 7011 come to Uta window 
nuw it — snd ru tell jron more through it." 

Maty, in a state of great teiror, felt that ignorant aa she was of 
the dangers and difflcnlties b}r wluoh ahe wae sorroonded, she had no 
other alternative than to be guided b; Poll, who seemed to know the 
full extent of the n^^terioiu circniiiBtances to which she made sitcb 
wild and startling allDsion. 

Foil immediate^ proceeded to Miss MlAugblin's bed-room, the 
window of which was soon opened by Mary herself, who with trem- 
bling hands nused it no higher than merely to allow the nec^sary 
domlnanieBtian b o t weca t them. 

•' Yon -dcm't know, bar oosid 70a aent Mi^)flM,'* oUfl Pell, '< the 
BlngE^ that Hiather Phil Is maUn' for yod and jrtMti. tlis night, 
m^be tbii hoar, wilt show his friendship for your ftanlly. And now, 
Ifuy H'Lo^hlin, if 70a wish to hare yannHilf ud tlieiQ lafe— «fd^ 
I say, txvra his own fMiher^ blood-honnds," and this she hissed into 
her tu\ sqneesiiig her hand tt the same thne, tintil It became pain* 
fU — in a Tcrfoe eo low, eameet, and oondensed, that it was soarcely In 
human Bstura to qnastlOB die woman's rinceri^ i~~" if," she oon- 
^ued, " 70A wish to havo them saf»— and Harman nft, be guided 
by him, and kt him manage it his own way. He will atk you to do 
nothing Uiat is wrong or improper in itself 1 but as yoa love your 
own family — M yom value Harman's life — let him act aoecvding to 
his own way, for he knows them he has to deal wid best," 

« Wo— wo — heavy and bitter betide yon, Poll Doalin, if yon are 
MW deo^ving me, or prompting me to take any step that la impro- 
per 1 I will not act in this business blind fold — nutber 1 not- bty 
family are consciotis of evil, and I shall certainly acqntuut them tills 
moment with thd danget Uiat Is over theid.'* 

" By the souls oF the doadi" replied PoU, ottering the oath in iHsby 
"if yon do what you say, there will be Uaod shed this night — the 
blood, too, of the nearest and dearest to you ! Do not be mad, I say, 

** tt^ God gaide me V exclaimed the distressed girl, borsttng into 
teatB.; " tor of nlyMlf I know not how to act." 

" Be guided by Sit. Phil," said she ) " he is the <Hi1y man UHng 
that can piev^t Hm daranaUe work that is designed against yOur 
family tkis niffhti' 

She had scarcely uttered the word% when Phil came breathless to the 
window, and, as if moved by « sense of alarm, and on apprehension of 
danger still greater than that expressed by Fidl herselfj he tsdaine^-* 


" Uias U'LoogUin, it'i no time ftr coramoof — mj/ fatksr'B blood- 
aonndi are at yot^ fiuber'a door ( and thers if but ona way of saving 
yma ftmilj from virienott and oatrags. Exciue ma— bnt I must 
fau in ^ thia window. Ton don't know nbat I risk by h t but fcr 
jonr wke and iktin it mut be done.* 

Bvan ai ko apcilLt, the toampling of horaafi^ feat, aut die jingling of 
«rfB^ were difltinotly lieard fit ll'Iionghlbi'i door— a ctronnutuiee 
whitdt M oaa[^tely pftraljced the difWacted girl, that die became 
parSiet^y powwleaa with effiiglit. Hiil availed himMlf et the moment, 
pat his hand to the window, which ho raised ap, and deliberately 
•nteittd, after whi<di he shut it down. Foil, while lie did ao, coughed 
i^ad, ta if giving a signal ; and in a instant, a nnmbcff of individnalB 
mostly female^ approaotied the wiodow, near enoogh to see. young 
M'Clatehy enter, and shut the window a&m him. 

"Now,'*sud Poll to the speotatoTB, "I faqie you're idl satisfied; and 
yon, James Harman, will believe your own eyes, if yon don't believe - 
Fdl Docdin. Is that girl a fit wife for yonr eoasin, do you think ? 
Well, you're satisfied, are you ? Go faoiae now, and help forrid the 
■utch if yon can. You're a good witness of her eondact, at any rate." 

" I did not bdiere yon, Foil,' replied tiie young man whom she 
addieaeed [ " but anfortonatoly I am new satisfied, snre enough. Hy 
own eyes tsannot deceive ate. Lost and unht^py girl I what will be- 
come of her ? But that's not aO— for she has i«oved henelf 
treacheroos, and deoeitfol, and wordikas." 

" Ay," said the crones whom Poll had twought to witness what 
oerbunly seemed to tiiem to ba the innocent girl's diame and degra- 
datim,— " ay," they observed, " there's now an end to her character, 
at any rate. The pride of the M'Loughlins has got a fall at last — 
and indeed they deserved it { tor they held their beads as upsettin* 
aa if they were dacent Protestants, and them nothing bnt Papishes 

" Go home now," said Poll i " go liome all of yea- Tou've seen enoagh, 
and too much. Throth I'm sorry for the girl, and did all I oould to pe> 
eoade her against the step she tuck ; but it was no use — ake was more 
Uke one that tuok love powdhers from him, than a raieonable beln'." 

Haman's coosin had already departed, but in aoob a state cf 
amazement, indignation, and disgnstytfaat he felt himself incapatde of 
; a conversation with any one, or of bestowing his atten- 
a any other topic whatsoever. Ba was thondeiatruck — his 
very iaonltaes were nearly paralyzed, aud hie whole mind literally 
d in one dark chaos of confusion and distress. 



" Nov," said Poll to the females who accompanied her—" go Iiome 
fiverj ona of jez ; but, for goodneca sake, don't be spakin* of irhat 
you seen this sight. The poor girl's correcther's gone, sure emioghi 
but for all that, let ns have nothing to e»j to her or Ifr. PhiL im 
all come out time enough, and more than time enough, widoot oar 
help ; BO, aa I said, honld a hard cheek about iL Indeed it's the safest 
way to do so — for the same M'Loughlina is a dsngeroos and bitdicr 
faction to make or meddle wid. Go off now, in tite name of goodness, 
and saj nothin' to nobody — barrin' indeed, to some one that won't 
carry it forther." 

Whilst this dial<^ae, which did not occupy more than a couple of 
minutes was proceeding, a scene of a different character took [dace 
-in Mlionghlin's parlour, upon a topic which, at ihnt period, was a 
very plausible pretext for much brutal outrage and violeDce on the 
part of the Orange yeomanry — ^we mean the possession, or the im- 
puted poiffiessitH), of fire-arms. Indeed the state of society in a great 
part of Ireland — shortly after the rebellion of ninety-eight — was 
then such as a modem Conserrallre would blush for. An orange- 
man, who may have happened to entertain a pique against a Soman 
Catholic, or sustun an injuiy from one, had nothing more to do than 
send abroad, or get some one to send abroad for him, a report that be 
the Catholic, had fire-arms in his posseesion. No sooner had tuis 
rumour spread, than a puty of these yeomanry assembled in their 
regimentals, and with loaded fire-arms, proceeded, generally in the 
middle of the night or about day-break, to the residence of the 
suspected person. The door if not immediately opened, was broken 
in— the whole house ransacked — the men frequently beaten severely 
and the ears of females insulted by the coarsest and most indecent 
language. These scenes, which in nineteen cases out of twenty, the 
Orangemen got cp to gratiiy private hatred and nudignity, were very 
frequent, and may show us the danger of any government entrusting 
power, in whatever shape, or arms and ammunition, to irresponsible 
hands, or subjecting one party to the fierce passions and bigotted im* 
pulses of another. 

The noise of their haraes' feet as they approached M'Loughlin'a 
bouse in a gallop, alarmed that family, who knew at once that it waa 
a domiciliary visit from M'Clutchy's cavalry, 

"Raise the window," said M'LDUgblin himself, "and ask them 
what they wont ; or stay, open- the door," be added at the same time to 
anotber, " and do not let us give them an excuse for breaking it in 
It's the blood-hounds, sure enough," observed he, " and here they are.' 


In % moment ihey were diamcmnted, uid having fonnd the luU-door 
npea, the psilonr was crowded with armed men, who manifested all 
the orerbearing ineolenee and wanton insult -of thoae who know that 
tbej can do bo with impnnitf. ' 

" Come, MI^Dugblin," said Cochrane, now their leader, "jon ribelly 
Painah rascal, prodnce jonr arms— for we've been informed that 7011 
have amu consalcd in the honse." 

" Fray who informed yon, Mr. Cochrane 7" 

" Tha^a not yonr bosiness, my man," replied Cochrane ; " out with 
them before we Bearch." 

"m tell yon what, Cochrane," replied M'Longhlin, "whoever 
informed yon that we have arms ia a liar : we have no arms." 

" And right well they know that," said his son ; " it's not for arms 
they come, but it's a good excuse to insult the family." 

His father, (who, on looking more closely at them, now perceived 
that they were tipsy, and some of them quite drunk,) though a mau 
of singular courage and intrepidity, deemed it the wisest and safest 
coarse to speak to them as civilly as poasible. 

"I didn't think, Tom Cochrane," said he, " that either I, or any of 
my family, deserved such a visit as this from, I may say, my own 
door neighbours. It's not over civil, I think, to come in this manner, 
disturbing a quiet and inoffensive family." 

** What^s the ribelly rascal sayin' ?" asked a drunken fellow, who 
lurched across the floor, and would have fallen, had he not oome in 
contact with a chest of drawers ; " what, wha-a^s be say-^yin' ? but 
I a»-say, here's to hell with the Po-po-popo— Jiurra!" 

*' Ah !" said young Mlioughlin, " you have the ball at your own 
foot now, but^ if we were man to man, with equal weapons, there 
would be none of this swa^er." 

" Whaf B tha-that the young rible says" s^d the drunken fellow, 
deliberately covering him with bis cavaliy pistol ; " another word, 
and ni let day-light through you." 

" Come, Burke," said a man named Irwin, throwing tip the muzzle 
of the pistol, " none o' this work, you drunken brute. Don't be 
alarmed, IfLoaghlin, yon shan't be injored." 

" Go to fa — ^1, Cieorge, m do what I-I li-like ; sure all these ribles 
!.a-hate King William that sa-saved us from brass money a-«nd 
wooden no^ins — eh, stay, shoes it is ; no nutter, they ought to be 
brogiles I think, for it-it's brogues — ay brogues, the Papish — it ia, 
by hell, 'hrogoes and broghans an' a' — the Pa-pishes wear — that 
saved us from bra-brass money, an-and wooden brogues, that's it-^ 

., Google 


for d&m-damira if ever the Fi^Ufaen wm dR-dftoent flnoogfa to wtar 
bnoB shoea, iwTer, bj jiago i a\ liojM, it's brMs brogue*— .aj <k> tk^ 
bm-bat« King Williiini that put ui in th« piU^Uory, tba [ulliloiy a 
hell, and the devils pel-peltia' tu with prioeta— taotn bc^a—^vooT-w 
nrmn itin-l at yn* hfc nm dowA Cfelliolies~~hiim I" 

" Mr. Mlioaghlin— " 

"Muthre M'LougUinl ay, therms raqkeot fitf fc Fa-^ih, aii' &om 
a pnrpla man, too 1" 

" Yon had bett«r be qniet, Btu^" retorted Irwin, who was a 
determined and powerful man. 

"For Ctod*! aake^ gentlemen," said Ufs. M'Loughlin, "do not 
disturb or ahum onr iamily j jon are at liberty to eearoh the tiottaei 
bat, a« Q«d is aboTe ua, we liave no arms*of any kio^ and ooq- 
eequendy tberA can be none in the house." 

" Don't believe iier," sud Burhe, " she's a Fapish • ." He had 

not time to add the offiuuive epithet, whatever it might have been, 
for Irwin — ^who, in truth, aocompanied the party with the qwcial 
intention of repressing outrage against the M'Loughlin's, whom he 
very much resfj^jtod— having caught him by the neck, shook the 
woid bacli again, as it were, into his very throat. 

" Yea ilt-tm^fued drunken rufSan," said he, *' if you don't b<rfd 
your scoundrelly tongue, Pll pitch you bead foremost out of the 
Lense. We must soarcl^ Urs. M'Loughlin," said Irwin, « but it will 
be done as quietly as possible." 

They then proceeded Uirough all the rooms, into which, unsular 
SB it may appear, they scarcely looked, until they came into that in 
which we 1^ Mary M'Lou^ilin and FhiL The moment this worthy 
young gentleman heard their approach, he immediately shut the dow, 
and, with all the seeming trepidation and anxie^ of a man who 
feared diaoovery, bustled about, and made a show of preparing to 
reetat dieir entrance. On coming to the dow, therefore, they found 
it shut, and everything apparently silent within. 

" Opok tlie door," eud Irwin, " we want to search fw arms." 

" Aht hojt," laid Phil in a whisper through the key-hole, ''pass 
on if you love me : I give you my word of honour that there's 
oo arms here but a tnaoe tlut iu worth any money to be looked 

" We must open, Hr. Fhil," said Sharpe, " yon know our ordhera 
By J^nn," said he, in a side voice to the rest, *'the fellow waant 
boastin' at all ; it's true enouj^ — TU honld goold he was right, and 
that We'll find iter inside with him." 

r^cinzedoy Google 

<• Wbeit I wa it, ril belifert V M>d JntiO, " bni aot till than. 
Opai, tixv" add Irt, " opta, if slFe Tigbk' 

• Ob> 4— It i», Ytajt," swd Phil fegftin, "this b too Ud— ^laiioitr 
brigkti nmljr you Wooldn't expoH ub, Mptwiall/ tbe girl." At tlis 
edB» time ha withdrew his riicraUu firom tha door, which flaw opva, 
and discoTered him BtTiving to tootha arid toAook Mlu M^Loughlin, 
who baA Mt yM ndortfed her alanA and agilationr to ds to vbder* 
tttnA thb olnamsuaoM which kx^ ^aoa aVout ber. In fket, ih« 
had hbSb iti that dMatiptiw tff eUitcment whiolit without taking away 
aniittUiOn, lotvw the famala (fiw it i« pesnliar to the sex) ntteriy 
incapabls of taking any tidng mon than a vagua cogniaanca of thu 
whtdi dMtin bofttn har eyea. The Baoment she and Phil weta 
diaoovered t^ether, not all Irwln'a inflnence could prerent the party 
lh>ui Inddlgtflg in a ihnt tit trioupb. Xhia atartled her, and waa, 
indeed, tbe means t£ rattoring her to peffeot eonacioaBBea% a&d a full 
perception of her ritnation. 

"What is this?" ahe inilalnd, "and why is it that a peaceable 
boote is filled with armed mwi ? and yon, Mr. M'Cliitoby, for what 
treacberons purpoae did yon intrude into my private room ?" 

Mlioogblia bimealf, from a natural dreiid of eolUaion between hli 
BOBS and the licentionfl yeomanry, and tmetiiig to the Mend^p and 
steadisesfl of Irwin, literally stood sentinel at the parlour door, and 
preretited them from accompanying the others in the March. 

" lUy darling Mary," aaid Phil, " it's loo late now, yon see, to speak 
in this tone— we're caught, that's all, found oat, and be cursed to 
then ftUowe. If they had found as any where else bat ia yoor 
bed-room, I didnt ao much care ; however, it can't be helped now." 

As he spdie, be raised hia eyo-browa from time to time at his 
flompanions, and winked witii an expression of triumph so cowardly 
and jliabolical, that it is quite beyond onr ability to deacribe it. 
Tber, in the mean time, winked and nodded in return, laughed 
heartily, and poked oQe another in the ribs. 

" Bravo, Hr. I%il 1 success. Captain I more power (o you 1' 

"Come now, boys," said Phil, "let us go. Mary, my darling, I 
must leave you ; but well meet again wbwe they can't disturti us. 
Stand round me boys, for, upon my honour and soul, these hot- 
headed fellows of brothers of her's will knock my brains out, if you 
don't guard ma well ; here, put me in tbe middle of you — good by, 
Uaiy, never mind this, well meet agwn." 

However anxious M'Lougblin bad been to prevent the possibility 
(^ angry words or blows between tus sons and these men, still tbe 


extTw>rdiiifti7 ydl which accompsnied t&e Haeorery of jwatg 
H'Clutchy in hii daughter's bed-room, occaaioned hJm to relax bia 
vigilance, and raib to the spot) after having wamod and urged them 
to remaia where the^ were. Notwithstanding his ramooatrancei, 
Utej followed his footsteps, and the whole fenalf, in faot, reached 
her door as Phil ottered the hut words. 

"Great Godl what ia tbisl" exclaimed her father, "how oame 
H'Clntchy, Val the Vultnre's eon, into my danghter'a sleeping 
room? How came jaa here, sir?" he added atemlj, "explain iL" 

Not even a posse of eighteen armed men, standing in a circle 
abont him, each with a cocked and loaded pistol in his han^ could 
prevent the cowardly and craven soul of him from quailing befwe 
the eyes of her indignant father. His face became, like a abeet of 
paper, perfectly bloodless, and bis eye sank as if it were nerer again 
to look fiY>m the earth, or in the lUrection of the blessed light of 

"Ah 1" he proceeded, "you are, indeed, your treacherous, cowardly, 
and cruel father's son; ^0*1 cannot raise your eye upon me, and 
neither could he. Mary," he proceeded, addressing his daughter, 
*'hDw did this treacherous scoundrel get into your room? tell the 
truth — but that I need not add, for I know you wilL" 

Hb daughter had been standing for some time in a posture that 
betrayed neither terror nor apprehension. Raised to her full 
lieigbli she looked upon M'Clutchy and his men alternately, but 
principally upon himself, with a smile which, in truth, was fearfuL 
Her eyes brightened into clear and perfect fire, the roundness of 
her beautiful arm was distended by the coming forth of its muscles, 
her lips became firm, her cheek heightened in colour, and her 
temples were little less than scarlet. There she stood, a concentra- 
tion of scorn, contempt, and hatred the most intense, pouring upon 
the dastardly villain an unbroken stream of withering fury, that 
wa3 enough to drive back his cowardly soul into the deepest and 
blackest recesses of its own satanic baseness. Her father, in fact, 
was obliged to address her twice, before he could arrest her atten- 
tion; for such was the measureless indignation which her eye poured 
upon him, that she could scarcely look upon any other objecL 

" Hy child, did you hear me /" said her father. " How did this 
heartless and down-looking scoundrel get into your apartment?" 

She looked quietly upon her father's features — ■ 

"How ?" said she; "how, but by treachery, falsebooil, and fraud? 
Is he not Val M'Clutchy's son, luv dear fallicr?'' 

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Her brothers bad not jet tittered a syllable, but stood, like 
their sister, with flashed cheeks snd bomiDg indignation in their 
«3re3. On hearing what their sister had jost said, however, as 
if they had all been moved bj the same impnlse, thought, or de> 
termination — as in truth thej were — their conntensnces became 
pale as death — they looked at each other significantly — then at Phil 
— and they appeared very cahn, as if relieved — aatiaiied ; but tix 
expression of the eye darkened into a meaning that wag dreadfal to 
look upon. 

"That is enough, my child," replied her father; "I suppose, my 
friends, you are now satisfied that there are no arms ." 

"Yes, by h — 1," ebouted Bu^e, we are now satisfied." 

Irwin bad him again by the neck— " Silence," eud he, "or, as 
heaven's above me, Fll drive your brainless skull in with the butt of 
of my pistol." 

"Tou ore sadsfled," continued Mlioughlin, "that there are no 
arms here. I hope yon will now withdraw. As for you, treacherous 
and cowardly spawn of a treacherous and cowardly father, go home 
and tell him to do hia woist — that I scorn and defy him — that I 

irill live to see him ; but I am wrong — he is below our anger, 

and I will not waste words upon him." 

" Tou will find you have used a tbrifle too muiy, for all that," 
said another of them; "when be bears them, yon may be sure he'll 
put them in his pocket for you — as hear them he will." 

""We don't care a d n," said another, " what he does to blai^- 

guard Fapishes, so long as he's a right good Orangeman, and a right 
good Frctestant, too." 

"Come now," said Irwin, "our duly is over — let us start for 
borne; we have no further business here." 

"Won't you give us stmutlung to drink?" asked a new virice; "I 
think we deearre it for our civility. We neither broke doors nor 
furniture, nor stabbed either bed or bed'clotbes. We treated you 
'well, and if you're dacent you'll treat us well." 

"Confound him," said a fresh hand; Pd not drink bis cursed 
Papish whiskey. Sure the Fapishes gets the priest to christen it for 
them. I wonld'nt drink bis cursed Papish whiskey, unless to tiy 
Ikiw much water's in it." 

*<Sro — nor I," said several voices; upon which a lond and angry 
dispute arose among them, a^o whether it wen consistent with true 
loyalty, and the duties of a staunch Protestant and Orangeman, Is 
■drink " A^ah liquor," as th^ termed it, at alL 



ZnrfB, wlio JoiBfld tbe vecatir« party, uisUted atr<ms\y t'i»t il 
would be diigncelVil tbr amy mui wb9 bud dnmfc t^ f^wloai^ 
pioQ^ u>d iq&narttl vienwrj. Brer to C9nt»Biiiist« Ha leyal lijM 
vitb winMkey tjutt lifti bean mttde a Pa|)iah 9f ij the prieft- This 
oairied Ab mr^anuiit, otiierwite it it hflrd to ny whti misduef 
might have kriaen, had tli^ hsightewd thmr pieviotu intonostioii. 

Fhil, during this ihort dialogue, atill retained hia ^acf la the 
oeotae of hia friends) bat feotn time to time he ke}>t glanolBC from 
under his eje-browB at M'Loughlin and hia sons, in thftt spaniel- 
like ouunner, whioh botraja a oonaoiouaiieas of t^enoe ud a dread 
of punishment. 

Inrin now caused them to more off; and. Indeed, searoelj any- 
thing could be more Indicroos tiian the utter pioatnttion of aQ manly 
feeling upon tbft p«rt of Ute chief o£Eender. Qn Beparatlngt the 
same baleful and pallid glances were exchanged between the 
brothers, who eleariy posaeesed an iBstinodre oommnuity of ftding 
upon the chief incident c£ the nighU— we mean Hist oi finding 
IfClutchf in their sister's bed-room. Irwin noticed their mnte^ 
motionless, but ghastly Fesentm^t, as did Phil himself, whoi 
whether they looked at him or not, felt that their eyes were npon 
him, and tbat, come what might, so laag as he remunod in the 
country, he was marked as their victisi. This oonsciouaeu of bis 
deserts was not at all lessened by the obeerration of Irwin upon bis 
conducti for be it known, that altbough there snbsisted a p«diticsi 
bond that caused Fhil and the violent spirits of the nrighboorhood 
to Dome frequently together, yet nothing eonld exoeed tile contempt 
which they felt for him in his private and individnal capauly' 

" Brotbw M'ClntAby," said Ixwbi, " Fm afraid you've mode a bad 
n^ht's work of it. By the moon above us, I woiddn't take tlte 
whole Castle Cumber proper^ an4 stand in your eiioes Cron this 
night out." 

" Why so 7* said F%i!, who was now safe, and beyond their imme- 
diate reach ; " why so, Irwin ? Fll tell yov what, Irwin ; < . — - tH my 
hmonr, but I think yon're cowardly. Did you see how sbsAdy I was 
to-night ? Not a sylUUe escaped my Hps ; but, zounds, didtf t yon 
see how my eye told ?" 

" Faith, I certainly did, brother Fhil, and a devilish bod tn)e it t«U 
too for yonrs^. Tonv father has promised me a new leasee with 
yoar life in It ) b«t ^ter tliis night, and after sji»t I saw, 111 b(f (o 
have your name 1^ out of tAat transaotiso." 

" But didn't you see, George" returned PhU, " tiiat a man of tbe* 


tnntnt look me is the faea ? Thej couldn't itMid 117 eje ; npoii my 
boaooT, Ikej eoviin't' 

"Ay," Mid Bsrke, "ihafs boeauae tb^re Fapiahes. A rucally 
Papyh can nerer look a Frotettant in tha faOB," 

" W^ bat," said Phil, " 70a wonld not belicTa that the girl was 
•0 fond of me as aha Is, nntil you taw iL I knew vwj well the? had 
no arms i so aa I frished to ^re jov on <qiportimiQ of judging for 
jouKtHyea, I pot the jooni^ npon that footing." 

« Wt/a," said Inrm, " we shall see the npshot — thafs att." 

They then escorted Phil hom^ after wUch thej dispersed' 

When M^^ughlin's fiunily assembled in the paiiour, after their 
dqiartnre, a deep ^oom brooded orar them fbr some minntee. Uarj 
bmelf, was the first to introdnee the Ineident wliidi gave tbem ao 
much distress, and in which she herself had been so painfblly iarol- 
▼ed. She lost not a moment, therefore, in relating fully and oandidly 
the whole natore of her intercoone with Foil DooUn, and the hopes 
held out to her of Harman's eafe^, llirough Phil IfChitchy. At the 
same ^le, she expressed in forcible language, Hm sacrillee of feeling 
which h had cost her, and the invincible di^uat with whMk she 
heaid Us very name allnded to. She then simply related the clKttm- 
itanee of bis entering her room through the open window, and her 
belief, in oonseqaence of the representations of Foil Doolin, that he 
did so, oat of bis excessive anxie^ to prevent blood-shed by the 
tnx^ieiB-^the trampling rf whose horses' feet, and the ringing of 
whoae anna had so oomjdeteiy everpewered her with the apprehension 
of Tiolence, that she became incapable of preTcntiog H'CSntchy's 
entranoe, or even of uttering a word for two or three minutes. 

" Howevtt," 8^ she, " I now see their derign, whitA was to ruin 
my reputation, and throw a stain upon my character and good name. 
So far, I fear, they have succeeded.* 

Tean then came to her reBef, and she wept long and bitterly. 

" Do net let it trouble yon, my dailing," sud her fattier. *' Tour 
consoienee and heart are innocent, and that is a satisfaction greater 
dum any tMng else can deprive yoa of. You ware merely wrong fil 
iK)t letting ns knew the conrerratton that took place between Poll 
Doolin and yon ; because, althoogh you did not know it, we couM 
have told you, titat FoQ is a woman that no modest Temale ou^t to 
■peak to in a prirate way. Thero was your error, Mary; but th« 
heart wss right with you, and there's no one here going to blame j'oa 
tor a fault that you didn't know to be one." 

Mary started oa hearing this account of Poll DooUn, for she felt 


.now thftt the interriewe she had witb her, were cokuUted to heightea 
her disgrace, when taken in connecti«n with the occwrencea of th« 
night. Her brothers, howerer, who knew her truth and nuuij 
virtues, joined their parents in comforting and supporting her ; but 
without the success which they could hare wished. Ttk^ more she 
thought of the toils and snares that bad been lud for her, the more 
Jier perception of the calamity began to gain strength, and her mind 
to darken. She became restless, perplexed, and feverish — her te^n 
ceased to flow — she sighed deeply, and seemed to sink into that most 
withering of maladies, dry grie^ which, in her ease, was certainly 
the tearless anguish of the heart. In this state she went to bed, 
cons^oos of her own purity ; but, by no means, in its full ezten^ 
of the ruined repatatioD to which she must awake on the succeeding 

Haiy's brothers, with the ezception of the words in which they 
joined their father and mother in consoling her, scarcely altered a 
syllable that night — the same ulent spirit, be it of good or evil, 
remainr"1 upon them. They looked at each other, howerer, from 
time to <ime, ond seemed to need no other interpreter of what passed 
within them, hot their own wild and deep-meaning glances. This did 
not escape their father, who was so much struck, perhaps alarmed, 
]by it, that he very properly deemed it his duty to remonstrate with 
them on the subject. 

" Boys," said he, " I don't understand your conduct this night, and, 
above all, I don't understand yonr looks — or rather, I think I do, I'm 
afraid I do— but, listen to me, remember that revenge belongs to 
God. You know what the Scripture says, ' Vengeance is minet saith 
the Lord, and I will repay it.' Leave that bad son of a bad father 
to God." 

" He has destroyed Mary^s reputation," said John, the eldest; " I 
might, possibly, forgive him if he bad killed her L!:e a common mnr 
derer, but, he has desteoyed our pure hearted ueter's r^mtation, ha. 
ha, hal" The laugh that followed these last words came out so un- 
expectedly, abruptly, and wildly, that his fatuer and mother both- 
•Urted. He then took the poker in his hands, and, with a smile at 
his brothers, in which much might be read, he clenched his teeth, and 
wound it round his arm with apparent ease. " If I got ten thousand 
pounds," said he, " I could not have done that two horns ago, but Z 
can now — are you satisfied?" smd he to his brothers. 

" Yes, John," they replied, " we are satisfied — that will do." 

" Yes," he proceeded) " I could forgive anything but that. Th» 



fathei'a notiea to na to quit the holding on which we and our fc>re> 
fHthera lived so long, and expended bo much monej— and his refnea' 
to giant QB a lease, are nothing: — we oould forgive all that; but thitf 
thia — oh, I have so name for it — the langnage lias not words to 
express it — but — well, weU, no matter for the present. If the 
GowardlT- sconndrel would fight ? — but be wod% for the conrage is 
not in him." 




It was about eleven o'clock the next daj, that a person in tlM 
garb of a gentleman, that is, the garb was a plun one enough, bnt 
the air of the person who wore it was evidently thst of a man who 
bad seen and mingled in respectable life, was travelling towards 
Spring E'ield, the residence of Mr. Hickman, when he overtook two 
females, one of whom was dressed in such a waj as made it clear that 
she wished to avoid the risk of being known. Slie was a little above 
the middle eise, and there coald be little doubt, frtHn the outline of 
her figure, that, in the opinion of unsuspicious people, she bad reached 
the dignity of a matron. Her c(nnpanion was dressed in faded black, 
from top to toe, and from the expressitm of her thin, sallow face, and 
piercing black ejea, there could be little doubt that she bad seen a 
good deal of the world, aa it ejists in mstio life. The perBon who 
overtook these two females earned a portfolio, and appeared to ob- 
serve the countiy and its scenei7, as he went along, with marked 

*'Fiay, ma'am," said be, " whoee is that fine <Ad building to tbo 
rigbt, which appears to be goii% to rain P It is evidently not inha- 

" Ton're a stranger in tiie place, tben," replied the female, " or yon 
surely might know Castle Oiunber House, where ould Timu Topertoo 
oaed to lire bef<»« the anion canie. He was made a Ind of for adlim' 



onr parliament, and noir fais mn, the present lard, is leadin' a Ueoed 
life abroad, far he nover shows his face here." 

" He is an absentee, then ?" 

" To be Mue he is, and so is evetj nuui of them now, barrin' an 
odd one. The eountr/s deMrtud, fU)d althongh business is lookin' 
np a littl&->b^e' yonr time, Susanna, we needn't be in sich 
a hurry now— ftlthongh, as I said, business is loc^in' np a 
little, still ifs nothing to what it was when the gentry lived at hrane 
wid uB." 

" Who is agent to Lord Cumber, pray ?" 

" A blessed boj, I^ all acconnts, but that's all 111 saj about him ; 
Z know him too well to make him mj enemy." 

" Why, is he not popular— -is he not liked by the tenantry t" 

" Oh, Lord, to be sure, they doat upon him ; and, indeed, no won- 
der, he's so kind and indulgent to the pooF. To toll you the tbrutfa, 
he's a ^eat Uesein' to the eonntry." 

" Hiat, to bo Bui>e^ is reiy satis&ctory ; and, pray, if I may take 
the liberty, who is his law ^ent, or has he one ?" 

*'Why, another blesBing— hem — a Tery pious, deront man, 
named Mr. Solomon M'Slime, an attorney ; bn|^ indeed, an attorney 
that almost shamei the bibte itaelf> ite'i so ifligious. Isn't be 

** He has good giAa, if he does not abuse them." 

''Beligioa is cwtainly the beat principle in life, if sincerely felt> 
tod not prostituted or made a maA of." 

" A mask I isn't that, sir, a thing that people put on and oS their 
faoe, according aa it may suit them ?* 

" Jnst so, madami 7pu have exactly dewribed it." 

" Oh, the devil a mask evpr he nade of it, then, fiff he 
soTer lays it aside at aU. He has kept U on eo steadily, that, I'll 
take my oath, if ha was to throw it off now, he woidd'nt know him- 
self in the lookingrglaas, it^ so k»ig since be go( « glimpse of bis 
ewn fiwe.* 

" Ijori Cnmber mut be a happy man to have two such valuable 
agents upon his proper^." 

<■ Talkin' of Lord Cumber and his property, if you wish to know 
all about them, here's your man oomin' over hj the cross-road here ; 
he's goin' to M'Clutoby's, I suppose ; and, as you appear to be goia' 
in the eame dimitioa, ni hand yon over to him. Good lawrow 
Darby 1" 

"Ooed taanow, kiadly, foil, and<-«lt— who's this yoave (ot wid 




jrtni ?* He continnfid eyeing Sosaiuu), " a Btranger to me anyhow 
Well, Poll, And how are 70U ?" 

" There's no nse in oozaploiniQ') Darby, Tin middlin' — and how is 

" Throtli, Poll, Pre a lump in my stomach that I fear will settle 
no yet) if I dm't get it removed scHnehow. But, sure, the hAthens, 
I foigire them." In tlte ffleftntime he alyly rubbed his noM an4 
irinked both eyea, as ha looked towards BusMoa, ae mneb aa to Hjr, 

PoU, hftwarer, deeUned to notice the recognition, but leaewed the 

" Why, Darby, how did the lump come into yoar stomach F Faith, 
in theaa hard times, there's many a poor devil would be glad to have 
■nch a complunt-^^h ?" 

" And, is it poeiible, yon didn't bear it ?" he asked with snrpriee ; 
** howandever, you shall. I was carrying a letther fntm Ur. U'Slime, 
that good, piona cratnre"— another Bhreved look at Susanna— " Mr. 
U'Slime to Mr. M'Clntchy, another good geatlemaa, too, and who 
should attack me on the way bnt that turncoat faatben Bob Beatty, 
wid a whole posse of idolathers at his beels* They first abused me 
becaoae I loft them in dieir darkneae, and then weot to search me for 
writs, twearin' that they'd make me ait »very writ I happened to 
have about me. Now, I didn't like to let i£x. M'Slime's letther faU 
into tbeir hands, and, accordingly, I tore it up and awaUowed it, jiet 
B ordher to disappoint the hatfaens. Howandsrer, I'm sufierin' for 
it, but inre yon know. Foil, it* our daty — I don't mane yours, for 
you're a hatheu and an idotathflr sdU— but mine ; it's my duty to 
iudfer tat the thruth, anyhow." 

Poll's laughter was loud and Tcbement on hmruig these aentimenU 
from a man she knew «o well ; but, to tell the tmUi, Darby, who felt 
that, in consaqueaoe of his laat interview with Luor^ he was in for 
it, oame to the resolution of doing it heavy, aa they say, or in other 
words, of going the whole hog. 

*• This iQipearB to be a strange country," observed the 

" Wait," eaid Poll, " till yon oone to know il^ and you'll say that." 

" No, but wait," oboerved Darby, " till <&« tpread cornea, and then 
yon may say it." 

" What do you mMn by the ipread!" oAed the atisnger. 

" Why, the fpmad rf the gospel—of religion, to be sure," replied 
Darby ; " and in this connthry," he added, " a glorious spread it is. 


the liord be pniaed I Are yon thraTeBin* far in tbia direcUon, rir, 
wid BimmiBUon ?" 

" I am going aa far as Springfield, ihe ra^dence of a Hr. 
Hickman, to whom I hare a letter of introduction. Do yon know 

■ "He vas agent on this property" replied Darby; "bat Mr. 
HKillutcliy came afther bim ; and, indeed the tenants it mighty well 
satisfied wid the change. Hickman, sir, was next to a hathen, made 
no differ in life between an idolatber and a loyal Proteatant ; bnti 
JSx. SfClnlchy, on the otber hand, knowa bow to lean to bia own, aa 
he ought to do. And, in regard o' that, Td advise yoo, when you 
•ee Mr. Hickman, jiat to be on your guard aa to what ha may say 
about the Castle Cumber property, and them thaf s employed an it. 
Between you and me, he's not over acmpnlona, and don't be aor- 
prised if be lays it hot and beary on Mr. MK/lntchy, and otber^ not 
forgettin* yonr bumUe serrsnt, merely in regard of onr honea^ and 
loyalty, for I'm a atanndi Protestant myeelf, glory be to God, and 
will anppOTt the Caatle Comber intbrest through thick and thin. 
"Now, air," ha added, " tliere's two ways to Hickman's; and 
between yon and me agin, Mr. Hickman is a real gentleman, 
exceptin' hia little fellings about H'Clntcby; bat who is widoat 
them 7 I donna, but it wonld be as well if be had remained agent 
sUIl ; and, when you see bim, if you happen to aay that Darby 
CfDrire touJd yon so, I think he'll undheretand you. Well — there'a 
two ways, aa I said, to his placoi — one is by this road, that turns to 
the right — which, indeed, b the ibMteet— the other is by C<hi- 
sUtntioD Cottage, which is K'CIutchy'a place, where I am gcAn' to." 

The stranger, after thanking Darby for his information, took the 
shorter road, and in about an hour or so reached Springfield. 

It is not our intention to detail bis ioterriew with Hickman. For 
the present, it is snfficient to say, that he produced to that gentleman 
a letter of introduction from Lord Cnmber himself, who remoyed all 
mystery from about him, by stating that he was an Knglisb artist, 
who came over on a foolish prafeesional tour, to eee and taks 
sketches of the country, as it appeared in its scenery, as welt aa in 
the features, character, and costume of its inhabitants. He had also 
introductions to M'Clutchy, M'Slime, Squire Deaker, Ur. Lucre, 
and several other prominent characters of the neighbourhood. 

Aa this gentleman amused himself by keeping an accurate and re- 
gular jounial of all events connected with the Caatle Comber 
property, or which oueurred on it, we feel exceedingly happy ia 

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Mug ftbla to Uy these important dironioIeB before onr rekdeni, 
■atifl&ed u ve arei that they will be valued, at least on the other aide 
of the channel, exactly in propcKiion to the acanty opportnaitiee he 
liad of beconuDg acquainted with onr language, manners, and cha- 
racter. The MS. is now before ns, and the rally priril^e we reserve 
to oaiselrea, is simply to give his dialogue an Irish turn, and to flU 
ap an odd ohaam here and there, occasioned by his igBorance of cir- 
dunstances which have come to our knowledge through personal 
eognicancfl, and varions other sources. The journal now in our 
poosessiim is certainly the original one ; but we know that copies of 
It were addressed successively, as the events occurred, to a gentleman 
in London, named Spinageberd, under cover to Lord Cumber 
himself, who kindly gave Uie benefit of his frank, during the cor- 
tospondeuoe. Oar friend the journalist, as the reader wiU perceive, 
4oes not merely confine himself to se^re facts, but gives us all the 
hints, iunendoea, and rumours of the day, both personal, religious, 
and polilicaL With these, our duty is simply to confirm or contra- 
dict them where we cau, and where we cannot, to leave them just as 
we found them, resting upon their intrinsic claims to belief or other- 
wise. Having premised thus far, we b^ leave to introduce to our 
veader'a special acquaintance, Evory Kasel, Esq^ an English Artist 
and Savan, coming todoa portion of the country, ladies and gentle- 
■ten, as has been often d<Mie befor& 

Batch, No. L 
Evory Easel, Esq, to Sam Spinageberd, Esq 
"Old Spisageberd, 

" Here I am, at last, tin the land of fun and fighting — 
mirth and misery — orange and green. I would have written to you 
a month ago, but that such a course was altogether out of my 
calculation. The moment I arrived I came to the determination of 
sauntering quietly about, but confining myself to a certain locality, 
listening to, and treasuring up, whatever I could see or hear, without 
y^t availing myself of Lord Cumber'a introductions, in order that my 
first impressions of the country and the people might result from 
personal observation, and not from the bias which accounts heard 
here from either party might be apt to produce. First, then, I can 
sea the folly, not to say the injustice, which I ought to say, of a 
hiudlord placing hb property under the management of a furious 
partizan, whose opinions, political and religious, are not merely «t 


TBTWBee wHb, bat totaUj opposed to^ those whose intensti un 
entroBted to his Impartislitj and faooMtT-. In the manBgeneBt of a 
property circttmataneed u that of Castle Comber ia, when tbe 
poptUatibn is about one half Somut Catbt^ and the other half 
FroteataDt and FreabTterian, between jia, anj man, my dear 
Spinagebeid, not a fool or a knarc^ most aee the madaess of ein[4(7iDg 
a fellow who avows himself an ettemy to the creed of one portkn of 
the tenantry, and a attmA snj^xxter of their opponents: Is this 
fctr, or can justice originate in Its purity from snch a source ? Is it 
raaaonable to anppese that a BtKnaa Catholie tenantry, who, whaterer 
tbey may bear, are impatient ctf any iasnlt or injustioe o&red to their 
areed, or, which Is the same thing, to themsetres tm account of that 
eroed — is it reaaoBable, I say, to snppose that snch a people oould 
mt satisfied with a man who acts towards them cmly through the 
medium of his fierce and ungoremable pr^a^ces 7 Is it not absord 
to imagine for one nuanent that property can be turlj admiiuatered 
through sac^ hands, and, if not property, hew much less jnstlee itsdf 7 
Ton may judge of my astonisbmeDt, as an EnglishmaB, wlien I Snd 
that the administration of justice is in cemplele keeping with that of 
pn^ierty; tor I find it an indispnlaUe faet, that nineteen magistrate^ 
oat of every twen^, are Orangemen, or par^ men cS some deseriptloD 
^poaed to Bonaa Catholic jniimplea ; and yet the B<Hnan Cathc^ 
par^ are expected to exhibit attaehment to the goremment wUA 
not merely deprives them of their civil rights, but literally places the 
execution of the laws in the hands of their worst and bitterest 
enemies. I say so deliberate^ j for I find that nothing so strongly 
recomm^ds a man to the office of magistrate, or. indeed, to any office 
under government, as the circumstance of being a strong, conspicuous 
nnti- Catholic In writing to you, my dear Spinageberd, yon may 
rest assured that I will give expression to nothing but truths which 
are too well known to be contradicted. The subject of property in 
Ireland ia one which, inasmuch as it is surrounded with great diffi- 
eulties, is also entitled to great consideration. 

"If there beany one prejudice in the character of an Irish peasant 
stronger or more dangerous than another— ~and he has many, they 
say, that are both strong and dangerous — it is that which relates to 
property and the possession of it. Tins prejudice is, indeed, so 
conscioDB of its own strength, and imbned in this oiunion with so 
deep a conviction of its justice, that, in ordinary circumstances, it 
scorns the aid of bU collateral and subordinate prinmples, and even 
flings religion aside as an unnecessary ally. Injustice, therefore, or 


opprenkiD, or putiatit/ ia the admin istmtioi] of property, cbnslilutes 
tha graatest crime knoira to the agiUriSn lawi and ia ciHiseqtMntlf 
resitted \tj the most fanmitigable aad remeraeleaB pnnishmeDt. The 
puwiil who foek, or believes himself to be treated with injustice or 
cmelty, nerer pmsts to reflect upon the religicm of tha maa whoa 
he looks upon bi hie oppressor. He will shoot a CathoUo landlord 
or agent from behind a hedge, with m mnclt good-will as he would a 
Pratestant Indeed, in gener^ he will prefer a Protestast landlord 
to tiiose of his osrn creed, knowing well, as he does, that th« latter, 
where the^ ara pawewod of property, censtitnte the very worst class 
of landlorda in tlie kiorgdom. As religion, therefore, Is rial at all 
Mcesauily mixed up With the Irishihaa's prcjadioee on this stibjeet, 
it kcenseqaeiltljr both dangermu and wicked to force it to an adhetioR 
with tn dreadful a principle as that which retoHa to noon-daj er 
midnight mnrder. TUs ia nnfortmuUely what snch fellows as this 
H'GlalehT' do. llier flad the Irish peasant with but one formidable 
prcjodiee, !■ relation t« property, and fay a coarse of neglect, otiprea- 
sion, and n^aei^, joined to all ibe malq>nant laneonr ctf r^gioas 
Ugotry and p«rty feelings they leave him goaded by a hundred. I 
b<£ere in my soot that there are many Sre-branda fike H'Clntehy in 
this cenntry, who create the crime in order to bare the gratifleatioa 
of punishing it, and of wreaking « legal vengeance upon the anfo^ 
toftate beii^ wjio has been giiQ^ «f it, in order thai they may 
recommend themselTee as loyal men to the gvverument of the day. 
If thb be so, bow oan the coantiy be peaceable P If it be peaceable, 
such men can iave »o opportnni^ of testing their loysl^, and if 
tbey do not teet their loyalty, they oan have no claim upon the 
goremment, and hanng no claim upon the gorenuoent, they wiO 
get nothing from it. The day will come, I hope, when the very 
exialence of men like these, and of the system which encouraged 
fhem, will be looked apoa with diagnst and w(Hider — when the 
goTernment of our eotmtry will make no invidions distinctiona of 
creed or party, and will not baae the administration of its principles 
npon the encoaragement of hatred between man and man. 

" Hickman, the former agents was the first to whom I presented 
Lord Cmnber'fl letter. He is a gentleman t^ birth, education, and 
property; a man of a ^xge and liberal mind, well stored with 
informatiiw, and has the character of being highly, if not punctiliously 
honourable. His age is about fifty-five, bnt owing to his r«|^lar 
and temperate habile of life— and in this counby temperance is a 
virtoe, indeed — he scaroely looks beyond forty. Indeed, I may 


obwiTfl by th« wty, that in Una blessed year of ^ tbe aftei^ 

dinoer indulgences <tf the Irish squirearchy, who are the onl/ class 
that remain in the country, reeemble the drunken orgies of Silenns 
and his satyrs, more than any thing else to whicb I can cwnpar* 
them. The couTersation ia in general licention^ and the drinking 
beastly ; and I don't know, after all, but the Irish are greater loaen 
by their example than they vonld be by their absence. 

•' On making inqoiriee into the state and management of this pnn 
perty, I found Hickman actuated by that fine spirit of gentlemanly 
delicacy, which every one, rich and poor, attributes tA him. 
M'Clntchy hanog succeeded bim, he very politely declined to enter 
into the sttlgect at any length, bnt told me tliat I could be at no loss 
in -receiving authentic information on a sofagect so much and so pain< 
folly canvassed. I find it is a custom in this country for agents to 
lend m<«iey to their employers ; especially when tiiey h^ipen to be in 
a state of oonsiderablo embarrassment, by which means the unfortu- 
nate landlord is seldom able to discharge or change his agent, should 
be misconduct himself i and is, consequently, saddled with avampyre, 
probably for life, or while there is any blood to be got out of him. 
Hickman, who has other agencies, makes it a point of prindple 
never to lend m<«ey to a landlord, by which means he avoids those 
imputations which are so frequently and justly brought against those 
who trade upon the embarrassments of their employers, in order to 
get them into their power. 

"May 13. — There are two newsp^iers in the town of Castle 
Cumber, conducted npon opposite principles t one of them is called 
7%« Cattle Cumber Tnte Shu, and is the m^n of the Orange 
Tory party, and the High Church portion of the Establishment. 
The other advocates the causa of the Preebyterians, Dissenters, aftd 
gives an occasional lift to tbe Catholics. There b also a small par^ 
here, which, however, is g^ing ground every day, called the Evan- 
gelical, an epithet adopted for the purpose of diatinguisbing them 
ttma the mere worldly and politi(»l High Churchmen, who^ to- 
getber with all the loyalty and wealth, have certainly all the in> 
diflbrence to religion and most of the secular and ecclesiastical cor- 
mplions that have disgraoed the Church, and left it little better than 
a large mass of bribes in the bonds of the English minister. In 
such a stale of things, yon may judge how that rare grace, piety, is 
rewarded. There ia, besides, no such thing to be found in this 
country as an Irish bishop, nor is a bishop often appointed for his 
learning or his piety; on the contrary, the unerring principle <J 

THE msa AQK»T. «] 

their eteradoa to the mitra is, in most osea, either poliUcal or 
fiunitj iuflaeoce, or botlu I wish I could stop here, but I omnot ; 
there arei anfortnn&tely, still more flagitions motives for their 
apptrintmAnt. English ministers have been foond, irho wera 
■0 Btrongl; inflnenced bj respect for the religion and Church 
Eataldishment of the Irish, that the; have not blushed to promota 
asm, who were the eonvenient instmments of titear own profligate, 
to some of the richest Sees in the kingdom. But I am travelling out 
of my record — so to return. The name of the second paper is the 
Gutuiite Patriot, and CoMtlt Cbtn£«r Equivocal t this Isst journal is, 
indeed, sorely distressed between the Catholic and Evuigelical 
parties. The fact is, that the Evangelicals entertain such a horror 
of Poperr M ft spiritual abomination, that thej feel highly offended 
that tAtir advocate should also be the advocate of Old Broadbotlom — ■ 
as the Orangemen call the Pope— in consequence, they say, of his 
sitdng upon seven hills. The editors of these papers are too decid- 
edly opposed in general, to be on bad terms with each other ; or, to 
speak more intelligibly, they are not on the same side ; and, conse- 
quently, do not hate each other as they ought and would. The town 
jf Castle Cumber, like every other country town, is one mass of 
active and incessant scandal ; and, it not unfrequenlly happeus, that 
the True Blue wiU generously defend an individual on die oppoute 
dde, and the Genuine Patriot fight for a High Chnrclunan. The 
whole secret of this, however, is, that it is the High Churchman who 
writes in the Patriot, and the Evangelical in the Tme Blue, each 
well knowing, that a defence by an opposing paper is worth more 
than one by his favourita organ. In the instance I am about to 
specify, however, the case was otherwise, each paper adhering to the 
individutd of his own principles. On taking up the True Blue I read 
the following passage, to which I have fortunately obtained a key 
that wilt poake the whole matter quite intelligible. The article was 

" ' iSWojma and the Elder, or the Conventicle in trtmbU, 
" ' For some time past we regret, sincerely regret, as ChristiaQ men, 
that a rumour has, by degrees, been oreefMng into circulation, which, 
we trus^ is like most mmoura of the kind, without foundation. The 
reputation of a very pious professional gentleman, well known for bis 
zeal and activity in the religious world, is said to be involved in it, 
but, we trust, untruly. The gentleman in question, has, we know, 
many enemies ; and, we would fain hope, that this is merely some 



evil device, fabricated hy tbe advenaries of piet^ and lefigion. Tba 
ciniumstancea alluded to are brjefi^ tfaese : — SneRiina, tKJ^ Qm eril 
tongae of mmoor; waa a reUgiooB young pefaon, recidiiig in tke dia- 
meter of ehildren'B daid in tbe fmity. She was ef deeUad piety, 
and nerer known to be tbeeot frdai mondag and oreaing wenfcip i 
H Menu, beudei, that she is yonng, comely, and vary Bgreoble, 
iodaed, to the men secslar eye. Her Bynmetry had been remai^uMc^ 
but, indeed, female grace» are seldom long Itved; she is not now, it 
Seem^ in the reapeutdble gentlemaa's family aUuded to, and ber 
friende are anziou to see ber, but cannot. So the idto story gees^ 
bat we hesitate not to say t&at it originates in the Tin^iotrre malice of 
some concealed eoemy, who enries tbe gentleman in question fata 
pore and onsollied reputation. We would not) ouTselvea, advert to 
it at all, but that we hope it may meet his eye, and prompt him to 
take the esrliesl measures to contradict and refute it, as we are ecr- 
tain he will and can do.' 

" Thiff was all exceedingly kinil, and certainly so very charitable, 
that the ' EqniroeaF conld not, with any claim to Christian princi- 
ples, suffer itaelf to be outdone in that blessed spirit of brollieriy 
love and forgiveness which, it tmsted, always characterized its 

"'We are delighted,* it said, 'at the mild and benevolent tone in 
which, onder the common misconception, a little anecdote, simple and 
harmless in itself, was ottered. Indeed we smiled — ^bat we trust tbe 
smOe was that of a Christian — on hearing our respected and respect- 
abte contemporary doling out the mistake of a child, witii such an air 
of solemn interest in the reputation of a gentleman whose name and 
character are beyond the reach of either calumay or envy. Tbe 
barmless misconception on which, by a chance expression, tbe silly 
rumonr waa founded, is known to all the fiiends of tiie gentleman in 
question. He himself, however, being one of those deep-feeling 
Christians, who ore not insensible to the means which an often 
rBBorted to, for wise purposes, in order to try os, and prove our faith, 
is far from looking on the mistake — as, in the weakness of their own 
strength, many would do— a thing' to be despised and contemned. 
No; he receiTes it as a warning, it may be for him to be more pr^ 
ciously alive to its privUeges, and to take care when he stands lest 
lie might falL AlCt^ther, therefore, he receives this thing as an 
evidence that bo s cared for, and that it is his duty to look upon it 
as an nwskenicg of his, perhaps, too worldly and forgetful spirit to 
higher and better duties ; and if so, then will it prove a blessing 


anlo him, and will not kare beat given In nan. W« woold not, 
tbenftr*, be outdooe, even in ebaritj, by oar good friend of the 
•True Bloe;' aad we Mirfuttber tfaatwhui, about tix moaUu ago, 
he ms aoM to hftve b«en fomd ia k stMe Muoely otxnpMiUe with 
Mbrielf, is the channel of OMtk Ccndnr mtUQ flti«et, oppoofe the 
office doc^ of Uke ' EqoivMel,' on his way hone froiA u Orange 
Lodge, we not only aided Mm, aa was oar dnly, but we placed tbe 
cbcumatance in its proper l^ht — a mere giddineae in the head, ae- 
oompaoied \j a total preatration of pbj^aleal strength, to both of 
which even the moat temperate and aober are oeearioHoIfy liable, 
'rbe defect of ^teecb, accompanied bj frequent hiceapping and a 
atvong tendency to lethajgj, ve acceanted for at tbe time, by m 
transient ceasatiMi or paialfiii ef the toi^ue, and a congesthin of 
blood on tbe bnUn, all of which frequently attack persons of tbe 
soberest habits. Others might have said it was intoxication, or 
drunkenness, and so might his character have been injured; but 
when his incapacity to stand was ^aeed npon its proper footing, 
the matter waa made perieetly clear, and there wa^ ccHiseqnently, 
ne doubt about it— so easy is It to distort a circnmstsnce that is 
harmlcM and indifferent ia itself into a grievoos fanlt, especially 
where there is not CSiristian charity to throvr a cloak over iW 

"Boch is a ^ledmen of two paragraphs— one from each paper; 
md eonnderiag that tl>e eabject was a deHcale on«, and involving 
the character of a profeeser, we thmk it was as delicately handled 
on both sides as poselUe. I am toU it is to be pnbScIy alluded to 
to>morrow in the congr^atien of which the subject of It, a Mr. 
Solomon M'SHme, an attorney, is an elder — a cirennutance which 
idaioly Bccounts Cor the heeding of the paragraph in ttie *Tnie Bloc.'' 

"There were, however, abont a week or ten days ago, a couple <^ 
pan^rapbs m tbe 'True Blue'—^hich, by the way, is Mr. MOutchy's 
&Teerite paper— of a very painful description. There ia a highly 
respectoMe man here, named M'lioaghGD — and you will please to 
observe, my dear ^tinageberd, that this U'Loughlin is req>ected, 
and well ^poken of by every class and party ; remember that, I say. 
This man ia a partner with a young fiellow named Harman, who is 
also very popalai with all parties. Hannan, it seems, was present 
at some seen* ^ in t^ mountains, where H'Clutchy'B bloodhounds — 
as they are called, from their fi»outy when on duty— had gone to 
take a man su^tected of murder. Ai all events, one of the blood- 
hounds in tite stru^le — ^for they were all armed, as they usually are 
— lost his life by tbe discharge of a loaded carbioe — said to be a-*-* - 


dental, but iwom to be otherwisb, before Mr. Magistrate K'CIiitelif. 
He was to have been tiied at the anizea which have jiut lermiiuUed, 
bnt bia trial haa been poetponed until the next assiiea, it ia aud, fiv 
want of sofflcient evidence. Be tbia aa it ma;, it aeema that 
M'Looghlin'a beantifiil daogbter waa soon to bare been married to 
her fatber'a young partner) now in prison. The nnfortnnate tP^X 
however, manifested the frul^ of her sex ; for, while bar former 
lover was led to suppose that be poasesaed all the fnllneaa of her 
auction, she was literally carrying on a private aad guilty intrigue 
with one of the worst looking scoundrels tbat ever di^raced 
hoinani^ — I mean Phil, as he is called, only son to Valentine 
U'Clntchy, who, by the way, goes among Uie pe<^le under the 
totibrigtiel of Val the Vulture. I seed not say what the efibcis of 
this young woman's dishonour have produced upon ber family. 
Tonng MKllutchy was seen by several to go into her own aparU 
ment, and was actually found striving to conceal himself there, by 
his father's bloodhounds, who had received informations that 
M'Loughlin had fire arms in his housii. The consequence is, that 
the girfs reputation is gone for ever. Tis true t3i& verdict against 
her is not unanimous. There is a woman, named Foil DooUn, men- 
tioned, who bears a most nnrelentless enmi^ against HlxiugUIn 
and his family, for having transported one of her eons. She is sad 
to have been the go-between on tliis occasion, and that the whole 
thing is a cowardly and diabolical plot between this Fhil — whom 
the girl, it seems, refused to marry befrae — and herself. I don't 
luiow how this may be; but the damning fact oi this ugly aconndrel 
having been seen to go into her room, with ber own consent, and 
being found there, attempting to conceal himself, by his father's 
cavalry, overweigbs, in my opinion, anything that can be said in her 
favour. As it is, the family are to be pitied, and she heraelf, it 
seems, is confined to her bed, with either nervous or brain fever — 
I don't know which ; but the disclosure of the intrigue bos bad such 
an effect upon her mind, that it is scarcely thou^t she will recover 
it. Every one who knew her is astonished at it; and what adds to 
the distress of her and her family is, that Harman, whose consin 
was an eye-witness to the fact of ber reoeiving Phil into her 
chamber, lias written both to her and them, stating that he is awaru 
of her perfidy, and that henceftulh he renounces her for ever. 

" There have also been strong rumours touching the insolvency of 
the firm of Ulioughlin and Harman, and it u to be feared that this 
onlovard exposure will injure them, even in a worldly point et 


Tiew. In the <Trae Blue* tbero are two paragraphs of the foDowtiig 
■tamp— paragrapba that certainly deserve to get the ears of thoee 
who either mots or pnhUshed them, cropped off their heads. 

** ' Uigtrecedtnted Feat of Gallmtry atid Conragt ! 

"■Public mmonr has already exonerated us from the delicacy 
which would otherwiae hare restrained our pen from allading to a 
feat of gallantly and courage) perfonned by a young gentleman who 
does not live a hundred miles from Constitntion Cottage. It aeema 
that a lauon once subsisted between him and a young lady of great 
personal attractions, and, at that time, supposed (erroneously) to be 
entitled to a Iiandsome dowry, conuderiog that the fair creature 
worsbips at the Mallet Office, and bestows, in the exercise of her 
vanal derotion, some soft blows upon her fair but not inseDsible 
bosom. Our readers will understand us. The young gentleman in 
qnestioD, however, hearing that the lady had btien recently betrothed 
to a partner of her father's, prompted by that spirit of gallant 
mischief or dare devilism for which he is so remarkable, did, under 
very dangerous ctrcumstances, actnally renew his intimacy, and had 
several stolen, and consequently, sweet meetings with the charming 
ereature. This, however, reached his father's ears, who, on proper 
Infcnmation, despatched a troop of his own cavahy to bring the 
young gentleman home; and so accunto was the intelligence re- 
ctived, that, on reaching her father's honse, they went directly to the 
yonag; lady's chamber, from which they led out the object of their 
search, aiUr several v^n but resolute attempts to exclude them from 
his bower of love. This unfortunate discovery has occanoned a great 
deal of embarrassment in the family, and broken np the lady's in- 
tended marriage with her father's partner. But what strikes us is, 
the daring courage of the hero who thus gallantly risked life and 
limb, ra^er than that the lady of his love should pine in vain 
Except Leander's, of old, we know of no such feat of love and gal- 
bntry in these d^enerate days.' 

" This other is equally malignant and vindictive: — 

" 'Me$tTi, Barman and M^Lottghlin. 
*"We shall be very happy, indeed, exceedingly so, to contradict 
an unpleasing rumour, affecting the solvency of our respected fellow- 
townsmen, Messrs. Barman and HliOugUin. We do not ourselves 
give any credit to such rumours, but how strange, by the way, that 
fuch an expi-cssion should drop from our pen on such a subject? 

r^cinzedoy Google 


No, we believe them to be perfectlj 8olTetiti <Nr, if we orr in nip. 
posing so, we certainly err in th« ecanptnj of those on whoaa 
opiniona we, in general, an dispoaed to rely. We an inelioed to 
believe, and we think, that for the credit of 90 respectabtea Ann, it 
is our duty to state that iba mmonr affecting their kolvency has 
been mistaken for another of an almost eqnallj painful character 
connected with domestic life, which, by tiie unhappy attachment of 
*"****' to a yonng gentleman of a di&rent creed and pro- 
verbially 1<^b1 prindple^ has thrown the whole fiumily into eon- 
fusiott and distresa.' 

" These, my dear Spinageberd, are the two paragraphs, literoOy 
transcribed, from the ' True Blue,' and I do not tfainic it necessary 
to add any comment to them. On to-morrow I have rescdved to 
attend the Dissenting Chapel, a place of worship where I have 
never yet been, and I am anxious, at all eventSt to see what the 
distiDctions are between their mode of worship and that of Church 
of if-Tigianiiifm BesideB, to admit the truth, I am also anxious to 
see how this Solomon — this religions attorney, whose person I well 
know— will deport iiimself under ciremBstances which assuredly 
would test the Hnnness of most men. nnless, as they say themselres, 
strongly and graciously sustained.' 



txstahtisii ahd ot poraiT — rHii.'B discbxtion aitd valodb. 

" Uonday, half-past eleven o^doek. 

" In pursuance of my intentioii, I attended the Castle Cumber 
Meeting-house yesterday, and most eoofeas that I very much admire 
the earnest and unassuming simplicity of the dissenting ritual. They 
have neither the epileptical rant nor gootidi impulses of the lEetho- 
distSi nor the droway uniformity from which, not all the solemn 
beou^ of the service, can redeem the Litn^y of the Chnrch of 
Ellwand. In slngiiig, the whole congregation generally take a port — 
a eircnnutonoe, which, however it may impress their worship with a 
proof ot sincerity, certainly adds nothing to its melody. 

r^cinzedoy Google 


*' The p«i»gr^di of ' Siva&nft and tbe EUer* baring taken wind 
little SolomoD, M thej call him, attended Us tisaal seat, vith a moot 
iiDiuiwl manifeitatioa of grace and uoctioa beaming from bis conn- 
tenance. He was there enrlj ; and before the leTTice commenced he 
■at with his bands locked is each other, their palms up, as wiw 
xiatuial, but bis ejes cast down, in peaceful Belf-cuumaniou, as was 
evident from the divine and ecstatic smile with which &om time to 
time, he cast up his eniaptored eje» to beaven, and ■igbed'—nghed 
with an exoeis ef bjq)pitie« which was vouchsafed to but few, or, 
perbapa, fiw those depraved and nncbaritable sinners who had sent 
alMtMd each ungodly scandal against a champion of the futb. At all 
prents, at the commencemeDt of the service, the minister'— a rather 
ji^j looking man, with a good round belly, ^parently well lined— 
3read out of a written paper, the following short address to those 
|n«sentt — 

, * 'The prayers of this coagrt^tion are requested for one of its 
most active and useful member^ who is an £lder thereof. They ara 
leqqestedi to enable him to flgbt the good fight^ under the pore trials 
•f a wicked world, which bare come upon him ia the shape of 
■candal. But inasmucb as these dispensatians are dealt out to ua 
oftflD for our soul's good and ultimate comfor^ the individaal in 
question doth not wish you to pray for a cessation of this, he trusts, 
beni^ punishment. He receives it as a token— a maoifestatioo that 
out of the great congregation of the faithful that inherit the church, 
he — an erring individual — a frail unit, is not neglected, nor bis 
spiritual ooncerns overlooked. He therefore doth sot wish you to 
oay, " cease Lord, this evil unto this man," but yea rather to beseevb, 
that if it be for bis good, it may be multiplied tmlo him, and that he 
may feel it is good for him to be afflicted. Ftay, thd'efore, that he 
may be purged by this tribulation, and that like those who were 
placed in the furnace nine times heated, be may come out wilbout a 
hair of his head singed — unhurt and r^oicing, ready again to fight 
the good fight, with much ahonting, the rattling of chariots, and the 
Boise of triumph and victory.' 

" During the perusal of this all eyes were turned upon Solomon, 
whose face was now perfectly serapliic, and his soul wrapped up into 
the ninth heaven. Of those around him, it was quite clear that he 
was altogether -incognizfuat His eyelids were down, aa before, but 
the smile on his &Ge now was a perfect glory i it was unbroken, and 
ttie occasional upturning of the eyes proceeded fnom, wd eonld be 
aetbing lees than a glimpee of that happiness whioh no other «ye ever 

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bad seen bat that of Solomon's at ihu moment, and, vb{«b, k ww 
eqnallj certain, no heart bnt bis could conceive. When it ma o(Hi- 
cluded, the psalm commenced, and, if there bad been any doabt 
before, there conld be none now, that his trinmph was great, and the 
victory over the world and bis enemies obtained, whilst a fresb 
accession of grace was added to that which had been Tonchsafed to 
him before. He led the psalm now with a fervour of spirit anda 
fuhieas of lung which had never tilt then been heard in the chapel ; 
naj, be moved both head and foot to the time, as if he had only to 
wish it, and he could ascend at once to heaven. This, indeed, was ■ 
victory, this was a moment of rejoiung — here was the Christian 
■oldier rattling home in his triumphal chariot, to the eoond of the 
trompet, sackbut, psaltery, and dulcimer. 

" When the service was over, he shook bands with as many of his 
friends as he could, exclaiming, ' oh, what a blessed day has this been 
to me ! what a time of rejoicing ; indeed it b good to be tried. Tmly 
the aonrces of comfort were opened to my soul on this day mora 
abundantly than I dared to hope for— I feel my privileges more 
■triHigly, and more of the new man within me— I am anstained and 
oomfbrted, and feel that it was good for me to be here this day — I 
did not hope for this, bnt it was graciously granted to me notwith- 
standing. How good, how heavenly a thing it is to be called npon 
to suffer, especially when we are able to do so in faith and obedience. 
Uay He be praised for olL Amen 1 Amen V 

" Now, my dear friend, who will say after all this that the stage is 
the great school for actors ? who ever saw on the boards of a theatre 
a more finished performance than that of Solomon U'Slime ? It so 
happens ibat I am acquainted with the whole circumstaaces, and, 
consequently, can fully appreciate his talents. In the mean time, I 
am paying a visit of business to M'Clutchy to-morrow, that I may 
have as opportunity of a nearer inspecUoD into bis character. He 
ia said to be an able, deep, vindictive, and rapa<»oas man — cowardly, 
bnt cruel — treacherous, but plausible ; and without the slightest 
remorse of oonscience to restrain him from the accomplishment ot 
any purpose, no matter how fiagitious. And, yet, the cnre for all 
this, in tbe eyes of his own party, is his boundless loyalty, and bia 
thorough Protestantism. No wonder thfi church sbonld be no longer 
useful or respected, when she is supported only by such Protestatiti 
as Valentine M'Clutchy, and his class. 

" Thursday. — At a little after ten I waited upon thb Aunous agent 
to the CuUe Cumber propertj> and found him in bis ofilce, looking 


^ *teE iftiSfl AGtNt. 241 

Wvr an acconnt-book with hia son. He bos ■ bad Tace — bltck, 
hesvj', over-banging eje-brows, and an upper lip that qaivere and 
gela pale when engaged eTeo in earnest conversation — ^his forebeai 
ia Io<r, but broad and massiTet indicating the miaor accessaries • 
intellect, tt^tber with great acntenees and cunning g alb^etber ha 
has the bead and face of a felon. For purpoeea which 70U shall 
know hereafter, I declined preeenting Lord Cumbei's letter of intro- 
duction, which, I calcolatedj would put the fellow on bis guard, 
deeming it more prudent to introduce myself as a stranger, anxious, 
if I could do BO convenienUy, to settle somewhere in the neigbbovr- 
bood. The son's bock was towards me when I entered, and until be 
bad finished tfae accouQt at which he bad been engaged, which be did 
bj a good deal of altering and erasing, be deemed it not worth while 
to look about bim, even upon the appearance of a stranger, tiaving 
heard me express mj intention of loc^ng for a residence in the 
ncinit;, he did me the bonoar of one of the most comical stares t 
ever saw. He is a tall fellow, about six feet; his shoulders are 
narrow, but round as the curve of a pot— bis neck is, at leasts 
eighteen inches in Ifrngt*", on the top of which stands a bead, some- 
what of a three cwnered shape, like a countij barber's wig block, 
wHj not flo intelligent looking. His nose is short, and turned up a 
little at the top — bis squint is awful, but then, It is peculiar to him- 
self; for bis eyes, instead of lotting around tbem, as such eyes do, 
appear to keep a jealous and vigilant watch on each other across bis 
nose — his obin is short and retreating, and from bis wide mouth 
project two immeasurable buck teeth, that lie together like a pair of 
tiles upon a dog kennel Heavens! thai a beautiful girl— as it is 
■aid every where, Miss Ml^ougblin is, and until now proverbiaUy 
eorrect in her conduct and deportment— should admit such a mis- 
shapen krakea as this into her apartment, and at night too t AAer 
having stared at me for some time with a great deal of cnnning, and 
a great deal of folly in his conntenance, be again began to pore over 
the blank pages of his book, as if be had been working out somd 
difficult calculation. 

" ' And,' said the father, ai^ we had been chatting for some tim^ 
'have yon seen anything in ibe neighbourhood that you think would 
ntit yout" 

" ' I am too much of a stranger, sir,' I replied, ' to be able to 
answer in the aifinnativB — but I admire tiie country and the scenery, 
both of which, in this immediate neighbonrltood, are extremely 
beautiful and interesting.' 

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"'They are 80,' lie replied; 'and the country is a fine oue, certaialjr* 

" ' Aj,' B(ud Phil, ' only for these cursed Fajuata.' 

<* As he spoke, he looked at me very significantly, and drew three 
of his yellow fingers across his chin, but added nothing more. Thi^ 
by the way, he did half a do«n times, and, on mentioning the 
cireumst«nce, it has been su^eated to me that it must have been 
the sign by which one Orangeman makes bimselF known to another. 

" ' The Papists,' X replied, ' do not enter into any objection of mine 
against a reudence in the neighbonrhood ; bnt, as yon, Mr. M'Clutchy, 
as agent of this fine property, mnst be well acquainted with the state 
and circnmstances of the country, yon would really confer a favour 
by enabling me, as -a stranger, to form correct impressions of the 
place and people.* 

" ' Then,* said ho, ' before we go farther, allow me to ask what are 
your politics ? As on Englishman, which, as I perceive you are by 
yonr accent, I take it for granted that you ore a Protestant.' 

«<I am a Protestant, certainly,* I replied, *and a Chnrch of 
England one.' 

" ' Ay, but thaf B not enough,' said Phil, ' that won't do, my good 
Sir ; d— .n my honour if it would be worth a fig in this conntry.' 

"'I am very ignorant of Irish politics, I admit,* said I, <bnt I 
trust E am in good hands for the receiving of sound information M 
the snlqect.' 

" ■ No, no,' continued Fbil, < that's nothing ; to be a mere Church 
of England man, or a Chnrch of Ireland man either, would never do 
here, I tell yon. Upon my honour, thafi doctrine !' 

•"Wen, but what icoitid do?* I inquired} for Z certainly felt a 
good deal of curiosity to know what he was coming to.' 

" ' The great principle here,' said the son, ' is to hate and keep 
down the Papists, and you can't do that properly unless you're an 
Orangeman. Hate and keep down the Papists, that's the true religion. 
I pledge yon my honour and reputation it is.' 

"'Ton put the prindple too strong, and rather naked, Phil,' 
observed the father ; ' hut the trath is, sir,* he added, turning to me, 
• yon may perceive that fine qtirit of Protestant enthusiasm in the 
young man, which is just now so much wonted in, and so beneficial 
to, the conntiy and the government We must, sir, make allowaneo 
for this in the high-spirited, and young, and ardent ; but, stil^ aAer 
deducting a litUe for teal and enthuriosm, he has expressed nothing 
but truth—with the exception, indeed, that we are not bound to hate 
them, Phils on the ooBtraiy, we are boond to love ottr enemies.* 

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rm IRISH AGENT. 343 

•1 'begging yoar pardon, father, I saj we are bound to liate them.' 

" ' Why eo, sir, may 1 ask,' awd I. 

" ' Why BO — why becaas&— because — they — because aa — aren't 
tbey Papists, and is not that sufficient — and, again, here's another 
reasMi still etronger, aren't we Orangemen ? Ifow, sir, did you, or 
tmy one, ever hear of such a thing na a good, sound, Orangeman 
Loving a Papist — a bloody Papiat P My w«r(1 and honour, but thal^s 

" ' The truth is,' said the father, ' that the turbulence of their 
principlefl has the country almost ripe for insurrection. I have 
myself received half a dozen notices, and my son, there, as many ; 
Home threatening life, others property, and I suppose the result will 
bet tibat I ttii^ reside for safety in the metropolis. My house ia this 
moment in a state of barricade — look at my windows, literally 
checkered with stancheon bora — and, as for arms, let me see— wo 
bave rix blDnderbosaeBi eight cases of pistols, four muskets, two 
carbines, with a variety of dde arms, amounting to a couple of dozen. 
Such, tai, is the state of the cotmtry, owing, certainly, as my son eajs, 
to the SfHrit of Popery, and to the fact of my discharging my duty 
towards Lord Comber with fldeli^ and llrmness.' 

"'In that case,' I observed, 'there is little to induce any roan 
possessing property to reMde here.' 

" * Certainly nothing* he replied j < but a great many ittdaccmenta 
to get ont of it.' 
. " < Does Lord Ctunfaer ever visit his property here ? I asked. 

"'He has too much sense,' returned the agent; 'but now that 
parliament is dissolved, he will come over to the elecUon. We mu.^t 
retnm his brother, the Hon. Dick Topertoe, whO| I understand, bus 
no fixed principles whatsoever.' 

"'But why return such a man? Why not put up and support 
one of your own way of thinking ? 

" ' Why, because in the first place, wo must ke^ out Hartley, who 
is a liberal, and also an advocate for emancipating Popery { and, in 
the second, if it be bad to have no principles, like Topertoe, it is 
worse to have bad ones, like Hartley. Hell do to stop a gap until 
we get better, and then, unless he comes round, well send him odrifL' 

" ' Is be in Ireland P I mean, does he reside in the country P' 

" ' Not he, sir ; it seems he's a wayward devil, very difi'erent from 
the rest of the family ; and with none of the dash and spirit of tbe 
Tf^tertoe blood in him.' 

*"Xn ibat ease, he will be no. great loss; but Mr. U*Clutehy, 



notwttliBtanding all yon have said, I am so much charmed witb tUta 
beaatj of the coimtry, that I would gladly settle in the nelghbonilioocl, 
if I could procttre a suitable residence, together with a good lai^ 
farm, which I would rent. Is there any thing in that way vacant 
on the estate ? 

" ' At present, sir, nothing ; but it ia possible there may b^ and if 
yon should remiun in the country, I shall feel great pleasure in 
acquainting yon.' 

" 'Becanse I was told,' I continned, 'that there are two large 
farms, either of which wonld snit me admirably ; but I dare say I 
have been mi^nformed. I allude to Messrs. Mlionghlin and Har- 
man's holdings, which I understand are oat of lease.' 

" Tes,' said he^ sighing, ' I am. sony for those men ; but the truth 
is, my good sir, that in this afiair I am not a free agent. Lord Cum- 
ber, in conaeqnence of some very accurate information that reached 
him, has determined to put them out of their holdings, now that their 
kases have expired. I am, you know, but his agents and cannot set 
np my will against his.* 

" < But could you not take their part ? could yon not remonstrate 
with him, and aet him right, rather than see Injustice done to innocent 

" 'Ton surely cannot ima^e, sir, that I have not done so. 
Earnestly, indeed, have I begged of him to re-consider his orden>, 
and to withdraw them t but like all Uie Topcrtoes, he is as obstinate 
as a mule. The consequence is, however, that whilst the whole 
blame of the transaotion is really his, the odiun will faU upon me, as 
it always does.' 

** Here Fhil, the son, who hod been for the last few minutes poring 
away the pen with his knife, gave a sudden yelp, not unlike, what a 
honnd will otter when he gets an unexpected cut of the whip. It 
was certainly meant for a laugh, as I could perceive by the IVightAil 
grin which drew back his lips from his yellow projecting tusks, as his 
&ce appeared to me in the looking glass a fact which he seemed to 

" ' Then, Mr. M'Clutchy, the farms of these men, are they dis- 

" ' They aie disposed of; and, indeed, in any event, I could not, 
in jnsdce to the landlord's interests, receive the offers which 
Mlionghlin and Harman made me. My son here, who, as under 
agent, feels it necessary to reside on the proper^, and who is about 
to take nnto himself a wife besides, has made me a very liberal ofier 


Car If'Longhlin's holding — one, indeed, which I did not feel mjwlf 
at Ubertj to refnae. Mr. U'Slime, oar respected law agent, I con- 
ddered a vetj pnqper tenant for Harmao's t and that matter is also 
eloeed— b7 which means I eeoiued two respectable, safe, and uaob- 
jectionaUe tenanted od whose votes, at all erent^ we can reckon, 
which was more Aaa we oonld do with the other two— both of whcHU 
bad expressed thw determination to vote in favonr of Hartkjr.' 

" ' What are the religions opiniong of those men, Kr. M'Clntch;?' 

" * M ' T^"g*'i'" is a rttftist-— ■' 

« 'Bat Hannan is worse,' interrupted Phil ; ' for bo's a Protestant, 
■odno Ortngemao.' 

" ' I thooght,' X r«]^e4 ' that nothing conld be ao bad as a Papist, 
much lea wiHse.' 

" * Oh jva,' uH Phil, ' thatfs won«} becaose one aljways knows 
that a P^its^B a Papist^but when yon find a Flrotestant who is not 
an Orangeman, on my sacred honour, yon dtm't know what to make 
of him. The Pajdsts are all oowards too.' 

"'Then,* said I, 'yon have the le» difSoully in keepiog them 

" ' XJfoa my soul and honour, air, yoa don't know how an unarmed 
Flqast wiQ run from a gnn and bayonet X have often seen it.' 

" At tiiia moment a tap oame to the door, and a servant man, in 
Orange lireiy, annonnced a gentleman to see Mr. Philip M'Cliilchy. 
I rose to take my departure i bnt Phil insisted I abonld sb^ 

" < Don't go, rir,' swd he ; ' I h&v« something to propose to yon by 
and by.' I accordingly took my seat. 

*'When the gentleman entered, he looked about, and selecting 
Phil, bowed to him, and then tons. 

" 'Ah, Ur. Hartley! how do yon do?" said Tal, shaking hands 
with himi 'and how is your couinn, wham we hope to have the 
pfeasnre of beating soon ? — ha, ha, ha. Take a seat.' 

" ' Thank you,' said the other i < but the fact is, that time's just 
■ow prat^ons, and I wish to have a few words with Mr. Philip, here.' 

"'What is it. Hartley? How are yon, Hartley ? Fmgladtosee 

" ' Quito well, Phil ; but if you have no objection, I would rather 
speak to yon in another room. It^s a matter of some Importance, 
and of some delicacy too.' 

** * Gb, cucw the delicacy, man ; out with it.' 

" ' I really cannot^ Phil, unless by ourselvea.' 

" They both then withdrew to the back parlour, where, after a 




period of abont ten uiDntea, Phil came rushing in, with & face on 
him, and in a etat« of trepidation, utterly indeacrUiable s Hiurt]e7, on 
the other hand, cod and aerioiu, following hitn. 

" ' Phi),' si^ he, < think of what yon are abobt to do. Don't ex- 
clude yourself hereafter from the rank and privilege! of a gentlenun. 
Fanw, if yon respect yourwlf, and r^ard your reputatidB as a man 
of Goorage.' 

« • D d fine talk in yov — ^wbo — ^who's a Are eater, Hartley. 

What do yon think, father P* Hartley put, or rather attempted 

to put, his hand acnwe his month, to prevent hia cowardly and def^ra- 
ding communication } hut in v^n. 'What do yoa thii^ father, he 
continnedt * but ther^a Aat cowardfy ecoundre^ young M *Loaghlin, 
has sent me a ohallenge ? Isn't the country come to a pretty paa^ 
when a Papist dares to do audi a thing!* 

"'Why not a Papist 7* said Hartley. ' Has not a Papist flo^ and 
blood, and bones, like another man ? Is a Papist to be insensiiile to 
insult ? Is be to sit down tamely and meanly nnder disgrace and 
ii^ury? Has he n« soul to feel the d^nity of jnst resentment P Is 
be not to defend his sister, when her character has been basely and 
treacherooely ruined 7 Is he to see her stretdied on hw death-bed, 
by your villany, and not to arenge her? By hearens, if, under tbe 
eirctnnstances of the provocation whioh you gare him, and his whole 
family, he would be as mean and cowardly a poltroon as I find yod to 
be— if be sutfered^— ^' 

" * Do yon call me a poltroon P* said Phil, so shirering and pal^ 
that his very voice betrayed his cowardice. 

" ' Tes,' said the other, < as arrant a poltrood as ever I met I tdl 
yoo, you must either fight him, or publish a statement of your own 
unparalleled disgrace. Don't tliink you HhaD get out of it.' 

" < I tdl you, ^,' said Val, < that he shall ma fight him. I would 
not suffer a son of mine to put himself on a level widi snob a perem 
OS young U'LoughUn.' 

" ' On a level with him be never wilt be ) for no earthly advantage 
could ruse him to it ; but pray, Mr. M'CIutchy, who ore yon P 

" Val's brow fell, and his lip paled and quivered, as the fine yoodg 
fellow looked him steadily in the face. 

" 'Never mind, bim father,' said I%il; 'yon know he's a flm- 

" < There is no use in alleroations of this sort,' replied Val, calmly. 
' As for young M'Longhlin, or old H'Loughfin, if they think tbem- 
selrea injured, thoy have tin kws of the land to appeal to for redress. 

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Ab for lu, we will flgfat them wilb other weapons besides pUtoIa ui 

•' • D n my honooT,* eaid Fhil, ' if Fd stoop to flght any Papist 

Ares't they all rebels P And what gentleman wonU fight a rebel ?* 

«< Honour f flzcbumed Hardey; 'don't profkne that sacred word— 
I can bare no more patience with ench a craven-hearted rascal, who 
aoold stoop to soch base rerengo ag^nst the unaoUied reputation of 
a virtuoua and admirable girl, because she spumed your aooundrelly 

" < He never p^d his addresses to her/ eald Val ; — never.* 

"< No I didnt," said FML ' At any rata I never had unj notion 
of marrying her.' 

" ' Ton are a dastardly liar, nr,' responded Hartley. You know 
you had. How can your father and yon look each other In tho face, 
when yon say so ?" 

" ' Go ODi' said Phil, 'yott're a fire tater : 90 you may say what 
you like.* 

" < Did'nt your father, in yonr name, propose for her npwi some 
former oooasion, in the fair of Castle Camber, and he remembers 
the answer he got." 

"'Qo OS,' said Phil, ' you're a Are ester ; tbat^sall I have to say to 

' And now, having ruined her repntation by a base and cowardly 
plo^ oonoooted with a wicked old woman, who would blast tiie whole 
family if she could, becanee H^Ixnigblin tnuuport«d her felon son ; 
yon, now, like a paltiy down as you are, skulk out of the conse- 
qoenoes of your treachery, and refuse to give satisfaction for the 
diabolical iqjnry yon have inflicted on tfae whide family.' 

" • Go on,' said Phil, 'yot^w a Are eater.' 

" < You forget,' said Val, 'that I am a magistrate, and what the 
.consequences may be to yourself for carrying a hostile message.' 

" ' Ah,' said Hartley, ' you are a magisbnttei and shame on the 
government that can stoop to the degradation c^ raising snob rascals 
as you are to become dispenserB of justice t it is yon, and such as 
you, that are a curse to the country. As for you, Fhil H'Clntchy, I 
now know, and always suspected the stuff you are made tA, You 
are a disgrace to the very Orangemen you associate witii t tat they 
are, in general, brave follows, although too often cmel and Oppressive 
when hunted on and stimula'ted by such men as yourself and your 
TiacaDy upstart of a father.' 

*• ' Go on,' said Phil, ' you are a fire eater.' 

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'"I now leave 70a both,' continoed tlie young UotspoTt wlllt ■ 
blazing eye and flushed cheek, 'with Uie greatest portion of toatB 
and contempt which one man can bestow nproi another.' 

" * Go off/ Bud Hiil, ' jon are a Are eater.* 

He lotted at him signifioantly, then cloaed the door and departed. 

<* 'Phil,' Baid the father, *eaA for M'Hnrt, and let him get the 
<yeotments from IC'SIime— we shall not, at all areata, be iiunlted and 
bearded hj Papists, or their eBuasaries, so king as I can dear one of 
them off the estate.* 

" 'But, good God, Mr. M'Clatchy, sorely these other Palate jon 
speak off have not participate^ in the offences, if Boch they ar^ of 
M 'IiOOghlin and Barman.' 

** * Ay, hut they're all of the same kidney,' aaid Phil t • they hate 
ua becanae we keep tiem down.' 

"'And what can be more natural than that?* lobaamd; <jnBt 
reverse the matter — auppoee they were in your places b°^ ^^ IM"* 
down, would yon love them for it ?" 

" ' Why, what kind of talk is that,' Baid FIul, Uiey keep ua downl 
Ara th^ ioot rebels ? 

" ' Tou obaerred,' I replied, getting tired of thia sickening and 
senseless bigotry, ' that yon wished to make, a proposal of some kind 
to me before I went.' 

" ' Yes,' he replied, ' I wished, if it be a thing that you remain in 
the neighbourhood, to propoee that yon should beoome aa Orangeman, 
and join my father's lodge. Ton say yon want a farm on the estate t 
now, if yon do, take my advice and become an Orangeman} yon wiU 
then have a stronger cl*>m, for my father always gives tkem the 

« 'By Lord Cnmber'a desire, Philj bat I shall be veiy happy, 
indeed, sir,' proceeded Val, ' that is, provided yon get an iatrodnc- 
tion— for, at present, you will pardon me for saying we are strangers. 

" ' I ahonld first wish to witness the proceedings of an Orange 
Lodge,' I said, 'but I suppose that, of couree, ie ImpoeriUe, oaless to 
the initiated.' 

" ' Cert^nly, of course,* said M'Clntchy." 

■• 'But, father,' said Phil, 'conldnt we admit him after the bosineBs 
of the lodge is concluded.' 

*• ' It is not often done,' replied the father ; ' but it sometimee Is — 
bowever, we shall have the pleasure, Mr. Easel— (I forgot to cay 
that I had sent in my card, so that he knew my name,) — we shall 
bftve the plcasore of a better acquaintance, I trust.' 

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" ' I tell yoa whaV said Phil, lea^Hng off his chair, ' d n my 
booonr, but I waa wrong to Ifit joting Hartley go withont a thrashing. 
Tbo cowardly sconndrel was exoeedingly insolent.' 

" 'No^no^ Phil,' said tlie father; 'yon acted with admirable cool- 
ness and pmdence.' 

*< <I tell yon I ought to have kicked the rascal out,' said Phil, 
getting into a passion t "FU follow him, and t«acli the impudent 
T^abond a lesson he wonts.' 

" He seised his hat, and buttoned up his coat, oa if for combat, 
whilst be spoke. 

" Phil, be quiet,* said his father, riaing op and putting bis arms 
about lum t * be quiet now. There will be no taming him down, if 
his spirit gets up,' said Val, addressing me ; 'for all our sakeo, Phil, 
keep quiet and sit down. Good heaven t the strength of him 1 Phil 
keep qniet, I say — ^yon shan't go after him.' 

" * Let me go,' shouted the other; 'let me go, I say. I will smash 
him to atoms. Upon my honour and reputation, be shall not escape 
me this way — Pll send him home a hoop— a triangle — azocd<^t. PU 
beat him into mustard, the cowardly aooandrel I And only you were 
a magistrate, &ther, I would have done it before you. Let me go, I 
pay — the M'Cliitoby blood is up in me I Father, you're a soonndrel if 
you bold me I Ton know what a Ikid I am— what a raging lion, when 
roused. Hands off, M'Clutchy,! say, when yon knowPm a thunderbolL' 

"The tugging and pulling that took place here between the father 
and son were extraordinary, and I could not in commtm decency 
decline assisting tlie latter to hold him in* I consequently lent him 
my aid serioosly ; but tliis only made things worse : — Ute more ha 
was hdd, the more violent and ontmgeoas he became. He foamed at 
the month— «tonned — swore — and tore about with such vehomeno^ 
that I really began to think the fellow was a dull flint, which pro> 
daoed fire slowly, but that there wai fire in Iiim. The struggle still 
proceeded, and ws pulled and draped each other through every part 
of the hoase: — chairs, and tables, and offloe-stools were all over- 
turned — and PhiTs cry was stilt for war. 

" 'It's bH to no purpose," he shouted—' Pll not leave an nnbrtftea 
bone in that scoundrel Hartley's body.' 

" < I know you wooldn't, if you got at him,' said VaL * He would 
certdnly be the death of bim,' he added aside to me ; 'he would give 
him some fatal blow, and that's what Pm afraid of.' 

" Phil was now perfectly furious — in fact he rescmUod a drunken 
sum, KoA might have passed for Boch. 

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« 'HBrtl^, 70U scoundrel, where ue yon, ^ I nutke mamKty of 
yoa ?* he Aouted. 

" ' Here I um* rqiBed Hirtlej,' enteriitg the looin, walking up to 
higa, tnd locdung him etemly In the fece— 'here I un — wholes yonr 
will with me?* 

So oomio a pftralTsis wU, perhaps, DOrer witnessed. Phil stood 
motionless, helpless, epeedbksa. The white cowardly froth rose to 
hia lips, his colour became ashy, his jaw fell, he shook, tiirank into 
JiitnMtlfj and gasped for hreatb— his eyes became hollow, his sqi^t 
deepened, and snch was his ntter prostration of strength, that his 
Tery tongoe lolled out with weakness, like that of a newly dropped 
calf, when attempting to stand for the first time. At length he got 

" 'Holdl I believe^ FlI restrain myself; but only my father's a 
magistrate ' 

" ' Tonr fathffii's a scoondrel, And yon are another,' said Hartley ; 
* and here's my respect for yon.' 

*• Whilst speaking, he caught FhU lif the neee with one hand, and 
also by the collar of his coat with the other, and in this podtioa led 
him, in a most ' comical way, round the rkmu, after which he turned 
him about, and infficted a few TjgoEOus kicks upon a part of him 
which must be nameless. 

" 'I am not sorry,' said he, 'that I fnrgot my not« case in the other 
room, as it has ^ven me an t^portunity of taming a raging lion so 

" * Go on,' said FbH, whose language, as wgQ as valour, was fairly 
exhausted^ 'it's wall you're ajira tateri and my father a magistrate, 
or by my honour Td know how to deal with yon.' 

« Snch, wj dear Spinageberd, is a domestic sketch of the Agent 
and Under Ag«it of that exceedingly sa^ent nobleman, Lord 
Cumber ; and if ever, excellent landlord that he is, he should by any 
poesibia chance come to see these lines, pwhapa he might be di^xMed 
to think that an ocoarional peep at his own property, and an exami- 
nation into the principles upon which it is managed, might open to 
him a new field of aotitm worth cultivating, even aa an experiment 
not likely to end in any injurious result to either him or it. In a day 
or two I shall call upon Hr. Stdomon H'l^Urae, with wbcmr I am 
anxious to harre a conTersation, as, indeed, I am with the leading 
characters on the property. Tou may accordingly expect an oeea- 
sional batch of obserrationB from me, made upon tho spot, and fresh 
from my interviews with the individuals to whom they relate." 

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/ >- f'/i ./'/ ilr/c ';^ // '/<:/. /^ 


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"Friday, • • '• . 
*■ I HATE amuied royeelf— yon will eee bow appropriate tlie word is 
by and by — nnce my last commnnioatioti, in going over the wbcfc 
Castle Camber Estate, and notlDg down the traces which this irre- 
sponaibls and rspacioDB tqtpreeBor, aided by his coostables, b^lifs, 
uid blood-hoiuidBi have left behind them. When I descrtlle the guide 
into wfaoee hands I have ctanmitted myselft I am inclined to think 
yon will not feel mnch disposed to compliment me on my dlsctetiDn ; 
the aforesaid guide being no other than a yonng fellow, nanted Ray- 
moHd-na-ffattha, which means, they tell me, Baymcntd of the Hals 
a sobriquet very properly bestowed on him, in conseqnence of a habit 
be has of always weaiing three or fonr hata at d time, one within the 
odier— a cirOmnstanoe whidi, JMoed to his ezbvordinary natural 
heighti and great strength, gives him absolutely a gigantic appears 
anc& This Baymond is the fiwl of the parish ; but in seledjng him 
for my conductor, I acted under Uie advice ot those who know him 
better than I coold. There is not, in fact, a field, a farm-house, or a 
cottage^ within a circumference of miles, which he does not know, 
and where he is not also known. Poor Raymond, notwithstanding 
his privation, is, however, exceedingly shrewd in many things, espe- 
dailly where he can make himself understood. As he speaks, how- 
ever, in unconnected sentences, in which there is put forth no more 
than one phase of the subject ho alludes to, or the idea he entertains, 
it is nnqnesticmably not an easy task to understand him without an 
interpreter. He is ungularly fond of children— very benevolent— 
and consequently feels a degree of hatred and horror at anything in 
the shape of cruelty or oppreaaion, almost beyond belief, in a person 
de^Hived of reason. This morning he was with me by appointment, 

about half-past nine, and after getting his breakfast but no 

matter— -the manipulation he exhibited would have been death to 

ju TALumiii H'cunrcuT, 

a ^peptic pKtlont, &am ahaer eavj — we s^ied forth to tnce ihla 
aun/.H'Clotohj, b; die awful maib of ruin, and tTraimy, and peiv 
•eontion ; for these words coDve; the princijdes of what he hath left. 
and is leaving behind him. 

"'Now, BftTinond,' said I, 'as 70a know the eonntry wdl, I shall 
be gnided by 7011. I wish to see a place called Drum Dhn. Can yoa 
eoi^iict me there?* 

"'Ayl' he replied with surprise; ^WJ^t Sure Uiere's scaroelj 
any body there now. When we go on farther, we way look up, but 
irea see no smoke, aa there used to be. 'Twas there yonsg Torly 
Bewail died on that day — an' her, poor Hary I — ^but they're all gone 

fyga her and Hugh the eldetf is is England or America— but kim — 

the youngest — he'll never waken-rand what will the poor mother do 
for his whit« head now that she hasn't it to look at P No, he wooldn^ 
waken, although I bnoght him the cock.' 

" < Of vbam are you speaking now, Baymond P' 

" * ril tflU yon two things that's the same,' he replied ; ' and 111 tell 
you the man that has them both.' 

" ' Let me hear, Raymond.' 

" ' The devil's blessin' and God's onrse — sure theyVe the same-i- 
ha, ha — there now — that's ooe. Ton didn't know that- jk^ no ; you 

" 'And who is it that has thrao, Raymond ? 

" 'M'CIntchy— Val the Vulture t sure twas he did that all, and is 
doin' it still. Poor BCary I Biyan will never waken ; shell never 
see his eyes ag^n, 'tany rote — nor his white head — oh ! his white 
bead 1 God ought to kill Val, and I wondher he doesn't.' 

" * Raymond, my good ^iend,' said I, ' if you travel at this ntt, I 
most give op the journey altogether.' 

"The ftct is, that when excited, as he was now by the tt^io in 
question, he gets into what ia tonoed a sling tro^ which carries faim 
<m at about six miles an hpur, without ever feeling fatigued. He im- 
mediately slackened his pace, and looked towaids me, with a con- 
ciousneea of having forgotten himself, and acted wrongly. 

" ' Well, no,' said he, ' I won't ; but sure I hate Aim.' 

" * Hate wluMn P* 

" ' M'Clutehy — and tHat wa* itj&xl always do it 1 hut I won't 
agin, for you couldn't keep up wid me if I spoke about him. 

" We then turned towards the mountains ; and as we went along, 
the desolate impresses of the evil agent began hi^ and there to 
become visible. On tbe roadside there were the humUe traoss (^ 

THIS misn AOEHT. isa 

tm or three catnIlc^ whose little hearths had been extmguished, and 
whoee walls were levelled to the earth. The black taagaa, the 
burdocki the nettle, and all those ofibnaive weeds' that follow la the 
train of oppression and ruin were herej and aa the drearj wind 
stirred them into sluggish motion, and piped its 'melancholy wail 
through these deaolflte little monnds, I could not help asking myself, 
if those who do these tlongs ever think that there 13 a reckoning is 
•Aer life, where power, and insolence, and wealth misapplied, and 
rancoor, and pride, and rapacity, and persecniion, and revenge, and 
sensuality, and gluttony, will be placed face to face with tfioee hnmbb 
beings on whose rights snd privileges of simple existence they have 
trampled with such a selfish and exterminating tread. A host of 
thoughts and reflections began to orowd upon my mindi but the 
Gutgeot was too p^fol — and after avoiding it as well as I could, wa 
proceeded on oar little tour of obeervation. 

How easy it is for the commonest observer to mark even the 
striking characters that are impressed on the physical features of 
an estate which is manc^;ed by core and kindness — ^wheie general 
h^piness and principles of active industry are diffused through the 
people I And, on the other hand, do not all the d^resaing symbcdB of 
neglect and mismanagement present equally obvious exponents of 
tbur operation, apon properties like this of Castle Cumber P On this 
property it is not every tenant that is allowed to have an interest in 
the Kol at all, since the accession of IfClntchy. He has sncoeeded 
in indooiDg the head landlord to decline granting leases to any but 
thow who are his pdilical suppcxtera — that is, who will vote for him 
or his ncxoinee at an election ; or, in other words, who will enaUe 
l^m to sdl both their political {mvileges and his own, to gratify his 
cupidity or unUticoi, without conferring & single advantage upon 
themselves. From theses therefore, who have too much honesty to 
prostitute their votes to his corrupt and selfish negociationa with 
power, leasee are withheld, in order that they may, with more 
' becoming and pUnsible oppression, be removed from the proper^, 
and the staunch political supporter brought in in their stead. This 
may be all very good policy, but it is certainly bad humanity, and 
worse religion. In fact it is the practice of that cruel dogma, which 
pxunpts us to sacrifloe the principlea of others to our own, and to 
deprive them of the very privilege which we oarselves claim — that 
ot acting according to our conscientious impres^ons. 'Do unto 
others,' say Mr. U'Clutchy and his class, 'as you would not wish that 
othen should do unto yon.' How beautifully here is the practice at 

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tbe loud ond beadlong supporter of tlie Protestant Charoh, and Ita 
poiiUcal aaoendanoy, made to harmooUe with the principles of that 
n^leeted thing e^ed the Grospel ? In fact, as we went along it 
was easy to mai^, on the houses and fannsteadfl about ns, the injus- 
tloe of making tliis heartless distinction. The miut wlio felt Umself 
•eenn and fixed by a rested right in the possession of his tenement, 
had heart and mt^ve to woric and improve It, undepressed 1^ the 
eansaioasness that his improrements to-day might be trafficked on by 
a wioked and ui^nst agent to-morrow. He knows, that in developing 
all the advantages and good qualities of the soil, he is not only dis- 
charging an important duty to himself and his landlord, bot also to 
his children's children aftfir him ; and the result is, that the comfort, 
eontentment, and self-respect which he gains by the consdonsness of 
his security, are evident at a glance upon himself, his bouse, and his 
holding. On the other hand, reverse this picture, and what is the 
conseiqnetice ? Jndt what is here vldble. There is a man who may 
be sent adrift on the shortest notice, unless he is base enongh to trade 
upon his principles, and vote against his conscience. What interest 
has he in the soil, or in the prosperity of his landlord ? If he make 
improvements this year, he may see the landlord derive all the ad* 
vantages of them the next ; or, what is quite as likely, be may know 
that some Valentine M'Clntchy may put tbem in his own pocket, 
asd keep the landlord in the dark regarding the whole transaction. 
What a bounty on disbwiesty and knavery in on agent is this P How 
unjust to tbe interest of the tenant, in the first place — in the next to 
that o(f tbe landlord — and, finally, how destructive to tbe very nature 
and propertiea of the Boll itself, which rapidly degenerates by bad' 
and negligoat culture, and consequently becomes impoverished and 
dimiaiahed in value. All this was evident as we went along. Here 
was warmth, and wealth, and independence staring us in tbe face ; 
there were n^Ugenee, desponding etrnggle^ and decline, conscious, aa 
it were, of their unseemly appearance, and anxious, one woold think, 
to shrink away from the searching eye of observation. 

" ' Bat here again, Baymond j what have we here 7 There ia a 
fine looking farm-bouse, evidently untenanted. How is that?* 

" ' Ha, ha," replied Baymond, with a bitter smile, < ha, ha I Let 
tbem lake it, and see what Captain WkiuBoi/ will do ? .?e has the 
possesnon — haj ha — an' who'll get Aim to give it up ? Who dara 
Uk« that, or any of Captain Whiteboy's fanne? Bat sure it's not 
much — only a coal, a rushlight, and a prod of n pike ot a b 
but I know who ought -to have tktm.' 

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*< Vie house in qnesUoa ms conuderftUy dilapidated. Its Aoon 
were not visibly ftnd its windowa had all been shivered. Its smoke- 
less chinuiies, its cold and desolate qipeorance, tx^i;ether with the still 
mora roinoas condition of the ont-hoaaes, added to the utter dfence 
which prevailed about it, and the absence of every ajraptiaa t^ Hie 
■nd motion — all told a tale which baa left man; a Uoodjr moral to the 
conntiy. The eixpe, gates, and esotosares were down— the hedges 
broken or cat away — the fences trami^ed on and levelled to the 
Mrth— 4nd nothing seemed to thrive — for the garden was orermn 
with them — bnt tba rank weeds already alluded to, as those which 
love to trace the footsteps of ruin and desolation, in order to show, 
as it were, what th»jf leave behind them. As we advanced, other 
and mOTO startling proofs of M'CIutcby come in on^ way — proofs 
which did not consist of rained bonses, desolate villages, or roofless 
cottages — bnt of those nnfortnnate persons, whose simple circle of 
domestio life — ^whose little care^ and straggles, and sorrows^ and 
afiecUons, formed the whole round of their humble existence, and 
its ei^<7mcnts, as given them by Almighty God himself. All theses 
however, like the feelings and affections of the manacled slave, were 
as completely overlooked by those who turned them adiifl, as if in 
possessing such feelings, they had invaded a right whidi belonged 
only to their better^ and which the same betters, by the way, seldom 
exendse dther in such strength or purity, as those whom they despise 
and oi^iress. Aged men we met, bent with yearn, and weighed down 
still more by that honseless sorrow, which is foond accompanying 
them along the highways of life — through its rugged sc^tudes, and 
its dreariest paths— in the storm and in the tempest : — wherever they 
go— Jn want, nakedness, and destitution — still a^ their side is that 
honsekes sorrow — pouring into their memories and their hearts the 
cMivkUon, which is most terrible to old i^e, that it has no home 
hare but the grave— no ^ow on which to forget its cares but tba 
dost. The sight of these wretched old men, turned out from the 
little hddings that sheltered their helplessness, to beg a mOTsel, 
through utter charity, in the decrepitude of life, was enough to make 
a man wish that he had never been bom to witness such a wanton 
abuse of that power which was entrusted to man for the purpose of 
diffusing happiness, instead of misery. All these were known to 
Baymond, who, as far as he could, gave me their brief and onftotii- 
nate history. That which showed us, however, the heartless evils 
<^ the clearance system in its immediate operation upon the poorer 
classes, was the groups of squalid females who travened the countiy, 

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ucompanied by their pale and sickly looking children, nil in ■ tlaU 
of mendicancyt and irofully destitute of clothing. The system ifi 
this case being to deny their biuhaiids employment upon the pro- 
per^, in order to drire them, hy the strong sconi^ of necessity, off 
it, the poor men were compelled to seek it elsewhere, whilst their 
sorrowing and heait-hroken families were fkin to remain and b^ a 
morsel^^om iMota taho leere hett acquainted with the hittory of their 
exputtion, and who, consequently, could yield to them and their little 
ones, a more cordial and liberal ^mpathy. After thna witnessii^ 
the consequences of bad management, and worse feeling, in tlie sh^M 
of houses desolate, villages levelled, farms waste, old age homdes^ 
and feeble mothers tottering under th^ weaker children — after wit- 
neesing, I say, all this, we came to the village called Drum Tfbv, 
being one of those out of which these unhappy crealnree were so 
mercilessly driven. 

*■ A village of this description is, to say the least of it, no credit 
to the landed proprietors of any coontiy. It is the necessary result 
of a bad system. Bnt^we know that if a landlord paid the attention 
which he ought to pay, to both tlie rights and duties of his prc^perty, 
a bad system could never be. established upon it. I am far from 
saying, indeed, my dear Spinageberd, that there are not cases in 
which the landlord finds himself in circnmBtsnces of great difficulty. 
Bad, unprincipled, vindictive, and idle tenants enongh there are in 
this oonntry — as I am given to understand from those who know it 
beet — plotting sooiindrels, who, like tunted sheep, ore not only 
corrupt tbemselves, but Infect others, whom Uiey bring along wltii 
themselves to their proper destination, the gallows. Enough and too 
many of these there are to be found, who are cruel without cause, 
and treacherous without provocation ; and this is evident^ by the 
criminal records of the country, from which it is clear that it is not 
in general the aggrieved man who takes justice into his own hands, 
but the idle profligate I speak of now. Many, Indeed all of these, 
it is an act doe to public peace and tranquillity to dislodge &om any 
and from every estate ; but at the same time, it is not just that the 
many innocent should snfier as well as the guUty few. To retuni, 
however to the landlord. It often happens, that when portions of 
his prt^perty fall out of lease, he finds it over-stocked with a swarm 
of panpOTs, who are not hi* tenants at aU, and never were — but who 
in consequence of the vices of subletting, have multiplied in pro- 
portion to the rapacity and extortion of middle-men, and third-men, 
and fourth-men — and though last, not least, of the political exigencies 

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of the landlord himself, to serve whose purposes they were l&boriously 
subdivided off into tattered legions of frand, corruption, and peijiny 
Having, therefore, either connived at, or encouraged the creation of 
these weatares upon his property for corrupt purposes, is he justified, 
when Bocb a change in the elective franchise has occurred as reoden 
them of no political importance to him, in turning them out of their 
little holdings, without aid or provision of some sort, and without 
reflecting besides, that they are in this, the moment of their sorest 
distress, nothing else than the neglected tools and forgotten victims 
of hia own ambition. Or can be be sarprised, after hardening them 
into the iniquity of half a dozen elections, that he finds fellows in 
their number who would feel no more scruple in putting a bullet into 
him from behind a hedge, than they would into a dog ? Verily, my 
dear Simon Spinageberd, the more I look into the polidcal and civil 
education which the people of Ireland have received, I am only sur- 
prised that property in this country retU upon so firm and secure a 
basiB u I find it does. 

" On arriving at Drnm Bbu, the spectacle which presented itself 
to us was marked not merely by the vestiges of inhumanity and bad 
policy, bat by the wan^ insolence of sectarian spirit, and bitter 
party feeling. On some of the doors had been written with chalk or 
eharcoal, ' Clear off— to hell or Connaught I' ' Down with Popery 1' 
' H'01ntchy*s cavalry and Ballyhack wreckers for ever I' In accor- 
dance with these offensive principles, most of oU the smaller cottages 
and cabins had been literally wrecked and left uninhabitable, in the 
violence of this bad impnlae, although at the present moment they 
are about to be re~ere<;t«d, to bear out the hollow pronuaes that will 
be necessary for the forthcoming election. The village was indeed a 
miserable and frightful scene. There it stood, between thirty and 
£raty small and humble habitations, from which, with the exoepti<m 
of about five or six, all the inmates had been dispoesested, without 
any consideratioii for age, sex, poverty, or sickness. Nay, I am 
assured that a yotuig man was carried out during the agonies of 
death, and expired in the street, under the fury of a stormy and 
tempestucns day. Of those who remained, foor who are Protestants, 
and two Roman Catholics, have promised to veto with M'Clutchy, 
w&D is here the great representative of Lord Comber and his pro- 
per^. If indeed you were now to look upon these two miserable 
liites of silent and tenantless walls, moat of then unroofed, and tum- 
bled into heaps of green ruin, that are fast melting out of tixwge, for 
they were mostly composed of mere peat— you would surely say, u 

• ..■ 



the Eastern Viraer said in the apologue, ' God prosper Mr. Valentine 
M'Clutchy I — ^for, so long as Lord Cumber htts him for an ^ent, 
be will never want plenty of ruined villages 1' My compaDJoa 
muttered many things to himself, but said nothing iatelligiblei nntil 
he came to one of the rnins pretty near the centre; — 

'' ' Ay,' aaii he, 'here ia the place they said he died — here before 
the door — and in there is where he lay during his long sickness. 
Tbt wet thatch and the soda is lying there now. Many a time Z was 
with him. Poor Torley '.' 

" ' Of whom do you speak now, Raymond ? I aaked. 

"'Oine away,' he said, not noticing my question— 'come till I 
Aow yon the other place that the neighbours buQt privately when he 
was dyin' — the father I mean — ay, and the other wid the white 
head, him that wouldn't waken — come.' 

" I followed him, for trath to tell, I was sick at heart of all that I 
bad witnessed that morning, and now felt anxious, if I could, to Te~ 
lieve my imagination of this melancholy imagery and its causes 
altogether. He went fartiier up towards the higher mountains, in 
rather a slanting direction, bat not immediately into their darkest 
recesses, and after a walk of about two miles more, he stopped at tiie 
scattered turf walls of what mnat once have been a cold, damp, and 
most comfortiess cabin. 

" ' There,' said he, ' I saw it all ; 'twas the blood-hounds. Be died, 
and her white-headed boy died; him, you know, that wouldn't 
waken— there is where they both died ; and see here' — there was at 
this moment & most revolting expression of ferocious triomph in his 
eye as he spoke — see, here the blood-hound dropped, for the ballet 
went through him ! — Ha, ha, thaf s one ; the three dead — the three 
dead I Come now, come, come.' He then seemed much changed, for 
he shnddered as he spoke, and, after a little time, much to my asto- 
nishment, a spirit of tenderness and humanity settled on his face, hto 
eyes filled with tears, and he exclaimed — 'Foor Haiy! they're aB 
gone, and she will never see his white head again ; and his eyes 
won't open anymore; no, they're all gone, all gong: ohl come away?* 

" 1 had heard as much of this brutal tragedy as made his aUnsions 
barely intelfigjhle ; but^ on attempting to gain any farther informa- 
tioD from him, he relapsed, as he generally did, into his usual 
abruptMsa of manner. He now passed down towards the cultivated 
country, at a pace which I was, once more, obliged to request him to 

"* Wdl,' B»id he> ' if yo« dont car^ / needn't, for well have it— 


. I know by the roarin' of the ri?er and \>j the look of the mouataini 
there above.' 

" ' What shall we have, Eaymond?' I inquirod. 

"'Na matlher,' said he, rather to hioiself than to me, 'we can 
crosa the stick.* But Til show you the place, for I was there at the 
time, and his coffin waa on top of hid father's. Ha, ha, I liked that, 
and they all cried bnt Mary,,aad she laughed and snng, and clapped 
her hands when the clay was niaUn' a noise upon them, and then the 
people cried more. / eritd lor Aim in the little coffin, for I loved 
him — I wondher God doesn't kill M'Clutchy — the corse o' God, and 
the blessin' o' the devil on him 1 Ha, ha, there's one now ; let him 
take it.' 

" We atiU proceeded at a brisk pace for about a mile and a-half, 
leaving the dark and savage Mile behind us, when Raymond tnm- 
iag about, directed my attention to the mountains. These were 
over-bnng by masses of black clouds, that were all charged with rain 
and the elements of a tetapest. From one of these depended a pheno- 
menon which I had never witnessed before^I mean a water-spout, 
wavering in its black and terrible beauty over this awful scenery, 
^^va adding its gloomy grandeur to the sublimity of the thunder • 
■tormt which now deepened, peal after peal, among the mountains. 
To snch as are unacquainted with mountain scenery, and have never 
witnessed an island water-sponl^ it is only necessary to say, that it 
resembles a long inverted cone, that hangs from a bank of clouds 
whose blackness is impenetrate. It appears immoveable at the 
upper part, where it joins the clouds ; but, as it gradually tapers to 
« long and delicate point, it waves to and fro with a beautiful and 
gentle motion, which blends an impressitm of g;race with the very 
terror it excitea. It seldtmi lasts more than a few minutes ; for, as 
aoon as the clonda are dispersed by the thunder, it disappears so 
qnickly, that, having once taken your eye off it begins to diminish, 
H is gone before yon can catch it again— a fact which adds some- 
thing of a wild and Bnpematnral character to its life-like motion and 
appearance. The storm in which we saw it, was altogether confined 
to the mountains, where it raged for a long time, evidently pouring 
down deluges of rain ; whilst on the hill side, which we traversed, 
there was nothijig but calmness and sunshine. 

" ' It will be before us,' said Raymond, pointing to a dry torrent 

riven a "flick," or plank, i* frequently a wbstitnte tea 



ed close beaide us ; ' vhilst, here it ia — ba, ha, I like nut— se« it, 
see it 1 

" I looked in the direction of bis hand, and was entranced in & 
kind of wild and offTel delightt by witnessing a large barsting body 
of water, something between a dark and a yellow hue, tumbling 
down the bed of the river, with a roaring noise and impetuosity of 
which I bad Qever formed any conception before. From the spot wb 
stood on, up to its formation among the mountains, the river was 
literally a furious mountain torrent, foaming over its very banks, 
whilst, frtoD the same place, down to the cultivated country, it was 
almost dry, with merely an odd pool, connected here and there by a 
stream too shallow to cover the rennd-wom stones in its channel. 
So rapid, and, indeed, dangerous is the rise of a mountain flood, Uiat 
many a life of man and beast have fiJlen vicUms to the fatal speed 
of ite progress. Raymond now bent his steps over to the left, and, 
in a few minutes, we entered a graveyard, ao closely surrounded by 
m^estic whitethorns, that it came upon me by surprise. 

" < Whisht,' said be, ' she's often here— behind this ould chapel, for 
'tis there they are, the two big coffios and the little one— but / liked 
the little one best.' 

'< He conducted me to an old mullioned window in the gable, 
through which a single glance discovered to me the female of 
whose insanity, and the dreadful cause of it, I had before heard. 
Whilst pointing her out to me, he laid bis hand upon my shoulder, 
and, heavy as it was, I could feel the more distinctly by its vibra- 
tions, that he tremUed ; and, on looking into hia face, I perceived 
that he had got deadly pale, and that the same spirit of humanity 
and compassion, to which I have alluded, had returned to it once 
more. There was not reason in his face, to be sure, but there cer- 
tainly was an vqiresaion there, trembling, and mild, and beautiful, 
as is the light of the morning star, before the glory of the sun hae 
nnv^ed itself in heaven. To Raymond's mind that early herald bad 
indeed, come, but that was all — to him had never arisen the light of 
perfect day. 

" ' There she is,' said h^ ' look at her, but don't spake.* 

" I looked at her with deep and melancholy interest. She sat on a 
broken tombstone tiiat lay beside the grave of those in whom her 
whole happiness, in this life had centred. Her dress was wofuUy 
neglected, her hair loose, that is, it escaped from her cap, her whit« 
bosom was bare, and her feet without shoe or stocking. I could 
easily perceive, that great as her privations bad been, God had now, 


perhape, in mercy, taken away ber conBoioiuiiess of them, for she 
often smiled while talking to herself, and occasionallj seemed to feol 
that fulness of happineas, which, whether real or not, appears so 
firequently in the insane. At length she stooped down, and liissed 
the clay of their graves, exclaiming — 

<* ' There is something here that I love, bat nobody will tell me 
what it is — no, not one. No matter, I know X love something — I 
know I love somebody— aomebody — and th^ love me t but, now, will 
no one tell me where they are ? Wouldn't Hugh come to me if I 
called him; but sure I did, and he won't come, and Torley, too, 
Vron't come, and my own poor white-head, even he wonH oonie to me. 
But whisht, may be they're asleep ; ay, asleep, and al^ sore if ever 
any creatures wanted sleep, they do — sleep, darlins, sleep — VH not 
taalf-e a ncnse to waken yon— bat whaf s that V 

" Here she clasped her hands, and looked with such a gaze of 
affright and honor aroond her, u I never saw on a human face 

" ' What's that ? It's them, it's them,' she exclaimed — ^'I hear 
their horses' feet, I bear them cursin' and swearin' — but no mallher, 
I'm not to be frightened. Amn't I Hugh Roe's wife P— Isn't heru 
God on my side, an' are ye a match for him ? IIer»— here's my 
breast, my heart, and throngh that yon most go before you touch 
him. ' But then,' she added with a sigh, ■ where's them that I love, 
an' am waitin' for, an* why don't they come?" 

" She once more stooped down, and, kissing the grave, whispered, 
but lond enongh to be heard, ' are ye here ? If ye are ye may speak 
to Me — if s not thentt they don't know where ye are yet — hut sure ye 
may speak to me. Ifa Mary, Hugh — ^your mother, Torley — your 
own mother, Bri^ dear, with the fiur locks.' 

"*Ay,' said Raymond, 'that's the white head she misses — that's 
htm that I loved — but sure she needn't call him for he won't waken, 
m spake to her.' As he uttered the words he passed rapidly out 
of a broken portion of the wall, and, before she was aware of his 
approach, stood beside her. I thought she wonld have been startled 
by bis unexpected appearance, but I was mistaken} she surveyed 
him not <mly without alarm, but benignly i and after having ex- 
amined him for some moments, she said, ' there are three of theiDi 
but they will not come— don't you know how I loved somebody i' 

" ' ^Vhich o* them ?* siud Raymond. 

"'It's a long deej^ 'she said, without noticing the qnestktn, *a 
long sleep — well, they want it, poo things, for there was little for 


tbem but care, and cowld) uid hardship. San we had aickueaa — 
Torly left na firet ; but — let me see — ^when did poor Brian go ? Well, 
DO matter) we had aickueaa, as I said, and aometimei we had little or 
nothing to eat, but, sure still, wasn't my hand tendher about them. / 
feU vttf heart in nty fingert when I tMteied them, and, if I gave 
them a drink didn't my heart barn i and, oh I it waa then I knew 
how I loved them t Whilst, then, poor things — och aure m do my 
best — m struggle for 7011 as well as I can — ^yon have none but me 
to do it — it's not the bkck wather I'd gire my darlin' child if I had 
betther; bat gruel ia what I can't get^ for the sorra one grain of 
mail is uudw the roof wid me ; but Pll warm the cowld potato fur 
mj pet, and you can play wid it till you fall asleep, aeuthla. Yes, 
I wUl kiaa you ; tor afther all, isn't that the ricbeat little treat that 
your poor mother hat to comfort yon with in your poor, cowld, nek 
bed — one and all of ye — ^yonr poor heart-bnAeu mother I 

" Here ahs ro^ed herself to and fro, precisely as if she had been 
sitting by their aick bed, then alooping down a third time, sbe kissed 
die earth that contained them once more — 

" ' AV abe exclaimed, ' how cowld their lips are ! how cowld my 
whita-haired boy's lips are 1 and their sleep ia long — oh ! but their 
sleep is long 1' 

"Baymond, duriog these incoherent expressions, stood mutely be- 
ude her, his lips, however, oAen moving, as if he were communing 
with himself, or endeavonring to shape some words of rude comfort 
in her aorrowa ; but ever and anon, as he seemed to go about it, his 
face moved with feelings which he could not utter, like the surfaee 
of a brook stirred 1^ the tweeze that passea over it. At length he 
laid his hand gently on her shoulder, and exclaimed in a tone of wild 
and thrilling cfMupaaaion^ 

" ' Mary !' 

" She then alarted for a moment, and looking around her with 
something like curiosity rather than alarm, replied — 


" ' Mary,' said he, ' make haste and go to heaven ( make haste anil 
go to heaven — ^youll find them all there — Hugh Began, and Torly, 
and little Brian. Don't stop here, for there will be more blood, man 
blood'hounds, and more Val M'Clutcby's.* 

" She did not seem to have noticed hia particular words, but there 
aj^ieared to have been some aasociation awakened which gave a new 
impulse to her thoughta — 

' ' Come away,' said abe, ' come away !* 



" Raymoad turned, and lo«^mg towards where I stood, beckoning^ 
iDQ to follow them ; and trolj it waa a touching sight to see thia unre- 
gulated attempt of the poor inaocent to soothe the heavy sorrows — 
if SQcb. thej wero now — of one whose malady could appreciato no 
Qjmpathy, and whose stricken heart was apparently beyond the re^ch 
of consolation for ever. 

"Both now proceeded in silence, Raymond still holding her by the 
band, and afibrding her every assistance, as we crossed the lields, in 
order to shorten the path which led us to the Csstle Cumber road. 
On coming to a ditch, for instance, he would lift lier, but still with 
care and gentleness, in his powerful arms, and place her, with, 
scarcely any effort of her own strength, which, indeed, was nearly 
gone, safely and easily upon the other side. 

" We had now crossed that part of the sloping nfJand which led 
UB cot upon a bridle road, that passed close by M'Loughlin's house 
snd manufactory, and which slanted across a ford in the river, a little 
above their flax-miU. Having got out upon this little road, Raymond, 
who, as well as his companion, had for some time paat proceeded in 
silence, stopped suddenly, and said — ' Where is heaven, Mary ?' 

" She involuntarily looked up towards the sky, with a quick but 
more significant glance than any I had yet seen her give ; but this 
immediately passed away, and she said in a low voice, veiy full of 
the usual tones of sorrow : — 'Heaven — it's there/ she replied point- 
log behind her, towards the burying place, ' in their graves !' 

" Raymond looking at me, and smiled, as if much pleased with the 
answer. 'Ay,' said he, so it b — wherever hit white head lies is 

"I cannot tell how it happened, but I know that I felt every 
source of tenderness and compassion in my heart, moved and opened 
more by these simple words on both sides, than by all that had 
passed since we met her. 

" In a few minutes mure we reached that part of the road imme- 
diately adjoining M'Loughlin's house, and which expanded itself as it 
reached the river, that here became a ford, being crossed, in ordinary 
cases, by stone steps. As is usual, in the case of such floods, which 
fall as rapidly as they rise, we found about a dozen persons of both 
sexes, some sitting, others standing, but all waiting until the river 
should subside so as to be passed with safety — the little wooden 
bridge alluded to having been literally swept away. Among these 
was Poll Doolin, the mother of Baymond, who, however, did not 
appear to take any particular notice of her, but kept close by, and 


directed all hu attention to nnbappy Mnj (yilegaa. About fclL 
an hoar had elapsed, when Rxpaoni casting his e^e upon the de- 
creasing torrent, said : — 

"'It is noTT low enough— come, Mar^, I will carry yon safe oTer— 
Sajrmond has often crossed it higher, ay, when it was over the rock 
there to oar right — come.' He lifted her in hie arms, without 
another word, and, with firm and confident steps, .proceeded to {ord 
the Btin powerfal and angrj streaai. 

*"Baytnond, are 70U mad?* shouted his mother; 'ten times yonr 
strength couldn't stand that flood; come Iwcfc, 70a headstrong 
crature, or 701^ both be loet, as sure as jon attempt iW 

"Her remonstrances, however, were in vain. RsTmond did not 
even look back, nor pay the slightest attention to what she said. 

"'Never mind them,' said heg 'I know best — it^ of^n I 
crossed it.' 

" On reaching the centre of the stream, however, he appeared to 
feel as if he had miscalcalated the strength of either it or him- 
self. He stood for a moment literally shaking like a reed in Its 
strong current — the pasaive maniac still in his arms, uncertain 
whether to adranee with her, or go back. Experience, however, 
had often told him, tliat if the fording it were at aH practicable, the 
danger was tenfold to return ; for by the very act of changing the 
position, a man most necessarily lose the firmness of his opposition 
to the stream, and consequently be borne away without the power 
of resisting iL Raymond, therefore, balanced himself as steadily 
as possible, and by feeling and making sure his footing in the most 
cautions manner — the slightest possible slip or stumble being at that 
moment fatal — he, with surprising strength and coarage, had just 
succeeded in placing her safely on the rock he had before alluded 
to, when a stone turned under him, his footing gave way, and the 
poor creatnre, whose reason was veiled to almost every Impulse but 
that of a wild and touching humanity, tumbled down the boiling 
torrent, helpless and unresisting as a child, and utterly beyond the 
reach of assistance. My own sensations and feelings I really cannot 
describe, because, in point of fact, such was the tumult, the horror, 
of my mind at that moment, that I have no distinct recollection of 
my impressions. I think, for a short space, I must have lost both 
my sight and hearing, for 1 now distinctly remember to have heard, 
only for the first time, the piercing screams of his mother rising 
above the wild and alarming cries of the others— but not nntil he 
had gone down the stream, and dissppcaicd raund n sharp sngle 


or bend, wbieh it fonned about eight or ten yariB below when 
be fell. 

" There grew a little to the left of the spot where this shocking 
disaster occurred, a small clump of whitethorn trees, so closely 
matted together, that it was impossible to see through them. fVe all 
therefore ran round, as if by instinct, to watch the tumbling body 
of poor Raymond, when what wm our surprise to see a powerful 
young man, about eight or ten yards lietow ug, dashing into the 
stream, where, although the current was narrower, it was less violent, 
and holding by a strong prcgecting branch of basel that grew on the 
bank, stretch across the flood, and, as the body of Raymond passed 
him, seize it with a vigorous grasp, which brought it close to where 
he stood. Feeling that both were now out of the force of the cur- 
rent, he caught it in his arm^ and ere any of us had either time or 
presence of mind even to profibr assistance, he carried, or rather 
dragged jt out of the water, and laid it on the diy bank. 

« < Come,' said he, ' I am afraid there is little time to be lost ; help 
me up with him to my lather's, till we see what can. be done to re- 
cover Ufe, if life is left* 

" The fact is, however, that Raymond was not altogether insensi- 
ble; for, as young M'Lougblin — the eame, by the way, who sent 
the message to Phil — had concluded, he opened his eyes, breathed, 
and after gulping np tome water, looked about him. 

"'AhP said he, 'poor Mary — she's gone to them at last; but 
she'll be happier with them. Take my hand,' said he to M'Loughlin, 
'sure I thought I could do it. Foor Maryf 

This instantly directed our attention to the unhappy woman, whom 
we all had overlooked and forgotten for the moment, and I need not 
say, that our satisfaction was complete on finding her sitting calmly 
on the rock where Raymond had placed her, at the risk of his life. 
Foil Doolin now seeing that her idiot son was safe, and feeling that 
she was indebted for his life to the son of that man on whom she is 
sud by many to have wreaked Bach a fearful vengeance, through 
the ruined reputation of his only daughter, now approached the 
young man, and with her features deeply convulsed by a sense pro- 
bably of her obligation to him, she stretched out her hand, 'John 
M'Loughlin,' sud she, * from this day out, may God prosper me here 
and hereafther, if Tm not the friend of you and yours 1' 

" 'Bad and vindictive woman,' replied the other, indignantly, whilst 
he held back the hand she sought, 'our accounts are now settled — I 
have saved your son ; you have murdei-ed my sister. If you si-e I'spa- 


ble of remorse, I now leave 70a to the hell of joar own coD»»eno«, 
which can be but little teas in pnnishment than that of the damned.' 

"Rajmond, whose attention bad been divided between them and 
Maty O'Regan, now said — < 

*"Ha, ha, mother — there — that's one — you'll sleep sound now I 
hope, for you didn't lately — that little thing that comes to your bed- 
side at night won't trouble you any more, I suppose. No, no, the 
thing you say in your sleep that is black, in the face, has its tongue 
out, and the handkerchief drawn tight about its neck. You'd give 
bacic the money in your dhrame; but sorra a penny while your 
waken. 111 engage.' 

"Poll turned away rebuke^ hut not, if one could judge, either in 
resentment or revenge. Raymond's words she had not heard, and of 
course paid no attention to what he said; but the latter, now seeing 
that the river bad fallen eonaiderabiy, again dashed into the stream, 
and crossing over, lifted the poor insane widow ofT the rock, and 
setting her down in safety on the other side, they both proceeded 
onwards together. 

"'The ford, sir, will not be passable for at least another hour,' 
said young M'Loughlin, addressing me, 'hut if you will have the 
kindness to step up to my Cither's, and rest a little after your 
mountain journey, for I think you have been up the hills, you will 
find it at least morff comfortable than standing here, and less 
fadguing than going round hy the bridge, which would make it at 
least five miles added to yoor journey.' 

"I thanked him, said I felt obliged, and would gladly avail my- 
self of his very civil invitation. 

" 'Perhaps,' he added, ' yon might wish to see our flax and linen 
manufactory; if so, and that you do not think it troublesome, I will 
feel great pleasure in showing it to yon.' 

"I expressed my obligaUons, but pleaded fatigue, which indeed 
I felt; and we consequently soon found ourselves in his father's 
parlour, where I met a very venerable old gentleman, the Kev, Hr. 
Roche, the Roman Catholic pastor of the parish." 

We must here exercise the privilege which, at the commencement 
of this correspondence, we assured oar readers we should reserve 
to ourselves — we allude to the ability which we possess, from ampler 
and clearer sources of information — to throw into Mr. Easel's corre- 
spondence, in their proper place, such incidents as he could not 
have possibly known, but which let in considerable light upon the 
progress of his narrative. 

r^cinzedoy Google 




BLOOi) — FATHER Roche's khowi.ei>ge of mature isteeview 


OF oomaric affection — as xzECCTioir bt tal'b blood- 

The hdlish aod cowardly plot mgauist iiary H'Loughlin's r«pu- 
tAtioB, And which the reader knows has heen alrofld; pliuined and 
perpetrated hj Foil DoolJn and Phil M'Clutchy, was, as sneh rile 
calumniea mostly are, generally snccessful with the public. On her 
own immediate relations and family, who knew ber flnnneBs, 
candour, parity <tf heart, and self-respect, the fonl slander had no 
effect whatsoever, at least in shaking their confidence in her sense 
of honour and diai^vtion. With the greedy and brntal puUic, 
hawereFt it was otherwise ) and the diacorery of this fitct, which 
reached them in a thousand ways, it was that filled their hearts 
with such onporaQeled diabess, terrible agony, and that expanding 
^irit cf ravenge which is never satisfied, nntil it closes on him 
whose oriine has given it birth. In tmth — and it b not to be won- 
dered at i as how almost could it be otherwise ? — the diabolical and 
cowardly crime oi Phil M'Clntchy towards tbeir sweet and nn- 
i^Fendiog sister, had changed her three brothers from men into so 
many savage and insatiable Frankensteins, resolved never to cease 
dc^lging his guilty steps, until their vengeance had slaked its 
burning thirst in his caitiff blood. 

louaediately after the night of its occurrence, a change b^^ to 
take place in the conduct and deportment of their general aoqaaint- 
ances. Visitors dropped off; some from actual delicacy, and an un- 
affected compassion, and others from that shrinking fear of moral 
contagion which is always most loudly and severely expressed by 
the private sinner and hypocrite. Their sister's conduct was, in 
fact, the topic of general discuasioa throughout the parish, aad ws 
need not say that such discussions nsnally were terminated, first, 
in great compassion for the poor ^1, aod then, as dieir virtue 
wanned. In as earnest denunciations of her guilt. To an indif- 



ferent person, howerer, without an; prajodice either for or aguast 
her, it was reall; impoeBiUe, conBidering the sataaic Buccess with 
which the plot was managed, and the Dumber of witnesses actually 
present at its accomplishment, to consider Miss M'Loughlin ss free 
at least from gross and indefensible leyit;', and a most unjustifiable 
relaxation of female pmdenoe, at a period when it was known die 
was actually engaged to another. This certainly loolced vary soa- 
picious, and we need scarcely say, that a cessationttf all visits, inti- 
macy, and correspondence, immediatety took place, on the part of 
her female friends and acquaintances. In fact, the innocent victim 
of this dastardly plot was completely deserted, and the little fAttj 
of her friends was by no means a match for the large and godly 
hosts who charitably combined to establish her guilt Her father, 
with all his manliness of character, and sterling integrity, was not 
dbtressed on his daughter's account only. There was another caosa 
of anxiety to him equally deep: we mean the mysterious change 
that had come over his sons, in consequence of this most blasting 
calamity. He saw clearly that they had come to the daric and stara 
determination of avenging their sister's disgntce npon its author, and 
that at whatever risk. Tliig, in truth, to him was the greater afflic- 
tion of the two, and he accordingly addressed himself with all bis 
authority and influence over them, to the difficult task of plucking 
this frightful resolution out of their hearts. In his attempt to 
execute this task, he found himself baffled and obstructed by other 
circumstances of a very distracting nature. First, there were the 
rascally paragraphs alluding to his embarrassments on the one hand, 
and those which, while pretending to vindicate him and his partner 
from any risk of bankruptcy, levelled the assassin's blow at the repu- 
tation of his poor daughter, on the other. Both told ; but the first 
with an effiwt which no mere moral courage or consciousness of 
integrity, however high, could enable him to meet. Crediton came 
in, alarmed very naturally at the reports against his solvency, and 
demanded the settlement of their accounts from the &m. These, in 
the flrKt instance, were immediately made out and paid; but this 
would not do; other claimants came, equally pressing — one after 
another — and each so anxious in the early panic to secure himself 
that ere long the instability which, in the beginning, had no exist 
euce, was gradually felt, and the firm of Harman and U'Loughlin 
felt themselves on the eve of actual bankruptcy. 

These matters all pressed heavily and bitterly on both father and 
eons. But we have yet omitted to mention that which, amidst all 


tbfl ligbtB in which the dsaghMr contempUtod the rain of net fair 
fame, fell with moet desolating coBseqvenoes upon her heart — we 
mean her rejection by Harman, and the deliberate expreseioa of his 
belief in her gnilt. And, indeed, when our readers remember how 
artfully the web of iniquity wu drawn around her, and the circum- 
stances of myBtery in which Harman himself had witnessed her con- 
nectien with Foil Doolin, whose character for ooodncting iatrigues 
be knew t«o wMl, they need not be surprised that he threw her off 
as a deceitful and treacherous wanton, in whom no man of a generoua 
or honourable nature could or ought to place confidence, and who 
was unworthy even of an explanation. Uary M'Loughlin could 
have bome eTerything but this. Yes ; the abandonment of friends — ■ 
of acquaintances — of a fickle world itself; but here was where her 
moral courage failed her. The very hope to which her heart had 
clung from its first early and innocent impulses — the man to whom 
■he looked up as the future gnide, friend, and partner of her life, 
and for whose sake and safety she had suffered herself to be brought 
within the meshes of her enemies and his — this man, her betrothed 
husband, had openly expressed his conviction of her being unfit to 
l»ecome his wife, upon hearing from his cousin and namesake an 
'account of what that young man had witnessed. Something between 
a nervous and brain fever had seised her on the very night of this 
heinous sttategem; but from that she was gradually recovering, 
when at length she heard, by accident, of Harman'a having une- 
quivocally and finally withdrawn from the engagement. Under this 
die sank. It was now in vain to attempt giving her support, or 
cheering her spirits. Depression, debility, apathy, restleesness, and 
dt the symptoms of a breaking constitution, and a broken heart, 
•oon began to set in and mark her for an early, and what was 
irorse, an ignominious grave. It was then that her brothers deenaed 
it fall time to act. Their father, on the night before the day on 
whiofa poof Raymond was rescued from death, observing them se- 
cretly preparing fire-arms, — for they had already, as the reader 
knows, satisfied themselves that U'Clntchy, junior, would not figfat 
— took an opportunity of securing their weapons in a place where 
ke knew they conld not be found. This, however, was of little 
avul — they told iiim it most and should be done, and that neither 
he nor any other individual in ezistenoe should debar them from 
'the execution of their just, calm, and reasonable vengeance-^or 
such were their very words. In this situation matters were, when 
about' eleven o'clock the next morning, Father Ruche, w1mi> from the 


begiantng, Iiad been Acre to aid and eonscdei as wu his won^ when- 
ever calamity or aoirow cailed apon him, mAde his appearance in 
the family, much to the relief of M'Loug^liii's mind, who dreaded 
the gloomy deed which his boob had pK^iosed to tbeaudTes to 
execute, and who knew, besides, that in this good and ^oub priest 
he had a powerful and eloquent ally. After the first salutations had 
psssed, M'LoughUn asked for a private interview with him; and 
when they had remained for a quarter of an hour t<^tber, the 
three sons were sent for, all of whom entered with silent and auUen 
resolation strongly impressed on their stem, pale, and immoveable 
features. Father Boobe himself was startled even into something 
like terror, when be witnessed this most extraordinary change in tlu 
whole bearing and deportmmit of the yoong men, whom he had 
always known so buoyant and open-hearted. 

"My dear young Mends, swd he, cabnly and aSecttosslely, "your 
father has just disclosed to me a circumstance, to wbioh, did it not 
proceed from his lipi^ I could not yield credit. Is it troe that yon 
have come to the most unchristian and frightful determination of 
shedding blood?" 

" Call it just and righteone," e^ John calmly. 

" Tes," followed the otber two, " it is both." 

« In his cowardly crime he baS evaded the responsibility of law," 
continued John, "and we care not if bis punishment goes b^ond 
law itBel£ We will answer for it witb our lives ; bat, in the nein- 

time, HE HOST DIB." 

"Ton see. Father Boehe," observed M'Longhlin, "to what a har- 
dened state the strong temptations of the devil bave bnnight then." 

"It is not that," said John, "it is afibction for oar injured sistn^ 
whom he bas doubly mardered; it is also hatred c€ himself, and of 
the oppression we are receiving in so many shapes at his handa 
Hx MOST sn." 

"Yes," repeated the two brothers, "ht mutt die, it is xow too 

"Ha!" said the priest, "I undeiatand yon; there is an oatb here." 

The three brot&era smiled, bnt spoke not. 

"Are ye my sons?" said the Atber, in tears, "and will yoa, wbo 
were ever obedient and dntffnl, disregatd ma now?" 

"In tliis one tbing we must," mid John; "kw ibuw you not nM 
(M ow father. Am I right?" said he, addresmng bis brothers. 

*'Tau are right," they relied, "in this thing be is no/ our father.* 

"Gkeat Godl" said the pri^ tremblwg with abaolate dt«ad at » 


■cene so different from koj be had ever witnessed, "Merciful Father, 
bear oui prayers, and drive the eyil spirits of vengeance and blood 
out of the hearts of these wicked men I" 

"Amenf said their father, "and rescue them from the strong 
t«mptadons of the devil which are in them and upon tbem. Why 
do yon not even pray to God — " 

" — For strength to do it — we did, and we dc^" said John, inter- 
rupting him. 

J^ther Roc^ looked at them; and there they stood — pale, silenr, 
nnd with a smile upon their lips which filled bim with a description 
of awe and fear that were new to him. Their father was little 
fwrtter; the perspiration stood on liis brow, and as he looked at tbem, 
lie at times b^an to doubt their very identity, and to believe that 
the whole interview might he a phantasma, or a hideous dream. 

*'Tou have sworn an oathl" said the priest. "Rash and sinful 
men, yon dared blasphemously to take, as it were, the Almighty 
into a league of bloodl Do you not kaow that the creature you are 
about to slay is the work of ^ur Creator, even as you are your- 
eelves, and what power have you over his life? I see, I see," he 
added, "yon have taken a aacrilegions oath of bloodt" 

"We have taken an oath of Uood," said they, "and we will 
keep it," 

" Bat is this just to yonr sister P" said the priest ; " do you believe 
in the justice of an Almighty Providence ? Is there no probabUity 
that, if this man lives, circumstances may come to light by which her 
fair aad spoUesa character may be vindicated to the worid ? On the 
contrary, should you now take his life, yen prevent any snch possi- 
biUty Sttan ever b^>pe9iog ; and yonr own rashness aad ungodly 
orima will be the means of sending her name down to posterity, foul 
and spotted with the impntation of a woman's worst guilt. Is that 
love tax yoar aistar?'* 

Father Boche now began to see tiiat be must argue with their 
paasicms — or with that strong affection for tbeir sister, upon which 
these fsarfal pasmons were founded — rather than with tbeir reason or 
their prejudices, whioh, in point of foct were now immoveably set in 
the daric determination of crime. 

" Do you fbrget," he added, " that there are laws in the country to 
pursue and oTertake the murderer F Do you foi^t that you will die 
•a ignoBiniow imtb, and that, mstead of acting an honourable part 
in Ufo, as bmotBea yoiv BBci«it mtA noble name, yon will bequeath 
Mothing to j^nr pirciita but an inberltance nf shame and infamy ?" 


" We have thought of a\\ thia before," said John. 

" No, not all," uid the yauogest ; '■ not allt bat nearly. 

" Well, nearly," said the other. 

" Then," satd the prieat, " yon will not heaihtfe to renoance jonr 
moat foul and diabolical intention ?" 

" We have sworn it," said John, " and it must be done." To thia 
the othera calmly assented. 

*■ Well, then," said this earnest Cbriatian, " since you fear neither 
disgrace, nor shame, nor the force of human laws, nor the dread of 
human punishment, yon are not ao hardened as to bid defiance to tin 
Almighty, by whom you will be judged. Has he not aaid, 'thos 
ghalt do no murder ? and that who so aheddeth blood, by man shall 
his blood be shed.' I now ask you," said he, " as one of the humblest 
of his accredited messengers, do you beliere in God, and fear him ?" 

" We are sworn," said John ; " the blood of him who has dJa- 
honoured oar sister's name we will shed, and it is neither priest nor 
parent who will or shall prevent us." 

" la not a raah and anlawf al oath a crime P" said Father Bodie ; 
"yes, and you know it is better broken than kept. I call upon you 
now, as your apiritual director and guide, to renounce that blaapha- 
mona oath of blood, and in the name of the Almighty and all power- 
ful Ood, I command you to do it." 

" We deay your right to inteHere," replied John, " we are not now 
at oonfeauon — keep within your limits ; for as sure as there is death 
and judgment, so sure as we will fulfil our oath in avenging the dis- 
grace of our sister. That ends all, and we wiU speak no more." 

The good old man began to fear that he should be put to the nwat 
painful necesrity of lodging infonnationa before a magistrate, and 
thus become the xoeans of bringing disgrace and evil upon the 
family, when it occaned to him to ask them a last qnestiiw. " Hy 
dear young men," said he, "I have forgotten in the agitation of 
mind, occasioned by the unprecedented disclosure of your evil and 
wilful intentions, to ask if yon so far renonuce God as to refuse to 
worship him. Kneel down, and let us prey." He tiim«Alf and thur 
father knelt, but the three brothers stood as anUen and immovable as 
before. The priest uttered a sbtnl prayer, but their condant so com- 
pletely perplexed and sluN^ed him, that he rose ap, and vrith teat* 
in his eyes, exclaimed — 

"I am now an old man, and have witnessed many instances of 
error, and sin, and deep crime, bat never before have I seen in penoos 
ol your early year^ such instances — such awful, terrible instances — 

THE niSH AQEKT. 2:9 

«r that inpenitence in which the heart, setting aride God and hia 
sacred ordinances, is given over to the hardness of final reprobatioa. 
I can do no more, as the ambassador of Christ, but I mnst net stand 
by and see, a feUow-creatnre — oh I thank Qod," he exclaimed, "m 
thoDght recurs to m; mind which had for a time passed out of ft. 
iSj good friend," he said, addressing old M^Looghlin, "will yon 
bring Mary in, if she is able to come — saj I reqneat to see her here.*' 

" We will go now, tben," sud the eldest, " you can want um no 

" You shaU net go," replied FalLer Boche, firmly, " if yon are men, 
Btay— or, if cowards, who are afraid to look into the depths of your 
own dark designs, you will aad may go— we want yon not." This 
language {>erplexed them, but ihey stood as before, and moved not. 

In a few minutes Mary came in, leaning on her father's arm ; but, 
ah t what a change from the el^uk outline, and clear healtky dieek^ 
Ijrom the red plump lips, and dark mellow eyes, which oarried &aci- 
nation in every glanc^ and grace in every motion 1 £weet, and 
beautiful, and interesting, she still unquestionably waa, but her pals 
cheek, languid eye, and k>w tremulous voic^ told a tale, which, when 
the cause of it was refiected on, bad literally scorched up out of her 
brothels' hearts every remaining vestige of humanity. 

" Mary," said the priest, " we have nqoested your presence, my 
child, for a most important purpose — and, in communicating that 
pnrpoee to you, we indeed give the strongest proof of our confidence 
in your firmness and good sense — nay, I will add, in the truth aod 
fervour of your dependence on the sustaining power of religion." 

" In my own strength or discretion I will never depend more," she 
nplied, sighing deeply. 

"Ton most exert great courage and fii'mness now, then," rejoined 
Father Rodtta ; "in the first place, you are about to have a disclosure 
made which will be apt to shock you ; and, in the next place, I have 
cmly to say, that it is the abeolute necessity of your knowing it, in 
Older lo prevent dreadful consequences from ensuing upon i^ that 
forces us to make yon ct^izant of it at alL" 

**I trust I shall endeavour at least to bear it," she returned; "I 
am not stroi^ and I do net think that loo much preparation will add 
to my strength." 

" I agree with you, my child," said Father Boche, " and have only 
made such as X deemed indispensably necessary. The iact then 
my poor girl, tliat your brothers oteditale violence against that mw 
base and wicked person who—" 

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"I know air, the person to whom 70a dlu<]e ; bnt I wilt Ihtnk 
yon, if yon can avoid it, not to nBtroe hln." 

"I have no sucli intention," replied the good nun, bnt bad and 
profligate as he ia, it I4 still worse that joat time brothers ibonU 
propose Snch vitdence." 

" Bnt what do yon mean l^ violence — of oonne violence of any 
description is beneath them. Surely, John, you would not stoop—" 

She looked at them as she spoke, and, ns before, there was no mis- 
taking the meaning of the cold and deadly smile which lay upon their 
tips, and contrasted so strongly and strangely with their kindling eyes. 

" What fearful expression is this," she asked, with evident terror 
and trepidation { " my dear brothers, what does this mean ? — that is, 
if you be my brotiiera, for I can scarcely rec<^ize you — what ia it, 
in the name of heaven ?" 

The brothers looked at her, but spoke not nor moved. 

" They have taken an oath, Mary, to wipe ont your shame in his 
blood," added the priest. 

She immediately rose up without aid, and approached them. " This 
is not true, my dear brothers," said she, " this cannot be trne— deny 
it for your sister." 

" We cannot deny it, Mary," said John, " for it U troe, and miut 
be done— our vengeance is rip^ hot, burning, and will wait na 

" John," said she calmly, " rectdlect ' vengeance is mine, saith the 
Lcffd, and I will repay it.* " 

*■ I told tbem soy" said their father, " bat I recdve ilo attention at 
Ihdr hands." 

" Vengeance is oura," said John, in a deeper and more determbied 
Tcnoe than he had ever uttered, " vengeance is ours, and we shall 
repay it." 

The others repeated his words as before. 

" Obotinate and onhaj^y yonng men," said the priest, " you know 
not, or jDU forget, that this is blasphemy." 

" Thi^ my dear sir," observed their dster, getting still more deadly 
pale than tiefore, " is not blasphemy, it is insanity — my three brothers 
' are insane ; that is it. Believe me, John," said she, recovering her- 
self, *' and eay it is so." 

« If we were insane, Mary," replied her brother calmly, " our 
wwds would go for nothing." 

" But is it not a dreadful thing," she continned, " tiiot I should l« 
(lad of such an all«mative." 

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rat IRISH IGSNt. 27S 

"KoTj," Bud the priest, "ask tbem to pray; thej refused to join 
me and their father, perhaps yon may be more suocessfuL" 

" They will certainly pray," she said [ « I never knew them to 
iHnit a night, mncb less refuse it. Surely they will join their poor 
fiater Hary, who will not Icaig — " She he^tated from motivai 
which the reader can nndeistand, but immediately knelt down to 

During prayer the three brothers stood and knelt not, neither did 
they speak. When prayers were concluded, she arose, and witB tears 
in her eyes, approached her eldest brother. 

** John," said ehe, " can it be, that the brother of Vary M'Loughlin 
id an assassin? I will answer for you," she stud. "Kiss rae, for I 
am weak and feeble, and must go to bed." 

" I cannot kiss you," ho replied ; " I can never kiss you more, 
Mary — ^for it must be done." 

The tears still streamed copiously down her cheeks, as they did 
those of her father and the amiable priest. The latter, who never 
took hb eye off her, was praying incessantly, as might be seen by 
the motion of his lips. 

"Alick," Ehe proceeded, turning to Iier second brother, "snrely 
won't refuse to kiss and embrace his only sister, before she withdraws 
for the day." 

" I cannot kisa you, Sf aiy, my pure sister; lean never kiss you 
more. We have swonif and it must be done." 

" X thought I had brothers," said she ; ** but I find I am ]iow 
Iwotherless ; yet perhaps not altogether so. I liad once a young, 
generous, innocent, and very affeotionate playfeUoWk It was known 
that I loved him — that tre ail loved him besL Will he desert his- 
loving sister, now that tlic world has done so? or will be allow her 
to kiss him, and to i»ay that the darkness of guilt may never over* 
sliodow his yonng and generous spirit. Bryan," she added, " I am 
Hary, your sister, whom you loved' — and surely you are my own 
dearest brother." 

Whilst she uttered the words, the tears which flowed fVom her 
eyes feU upon his face. He looked at her pule features, so full of 
love and tenderness— the muscles of his face worked strongly ; but 
at length, with a loud cry, he threw himself over, caught her in his 
arms, and laying her head upon his bosom, wept aloud. The ovil 
spell was now broken. Neither John nor Alick could resist the 
contagion of tenderness which their beloved sister shed into their 
hearta Their tears flowed fast-^their caresses were added to thos* 



of Bryan ; ami ns they penitently embraced ter, they retracted tlidr 
■wful oath, and promised never again to think of violence, reTenge^ 
or bloodnhed. 

Thna did the force end pnri^ of dome^ic affbction charm back 
into thdr hearts the very spirit which its own excess had before 
driTQn ont of it ; and thne it is that mflny a triumph over crime is 
won by the tenderness and strength of that affection, when nuther 
reason, nor religion, nor any other principle that we are aeqnainted 
with, can oncceed in leading captive the fearfnl pnrposea of resent- 
ment and revenge. 

" Now," said Father Boch^ " we have still a duty to perform, and 
tliat is, to retarn thanks to Almighty God for the dark and deadly 
crime, snd the wtrf'nl sorrow, which, by his grace and mercy, he has 
averted from this family ; and I think we may take this blessing— 
for snch sniely it is — as an earnest hope that the same Divine hand, 
which has put aside this impending calamity from us, may, and will, 
in his own good time, remove the other afflictions which the enmity 
tnd wickedness of evil hearts, and evil conndls have brought upon 
us i but eq>ecially let as kneel and retom thanks for the great and 
hapi^ change which, through the homility and affection of one ctf ns 
has been wrought npon the rest. 

*' He then knelt down, and on this occauon the iron sinews of these 
yonsg men became soft, and were bent in remorse, sorrow, and repen- 
tance. The pious priest prayed fervently and hmnbly, and as his teara 
fell fast in the tmsting sincerity of his heart, and the meek eamesfr- 
neas of his spirit, it is almost nnnecessary to say, that those of his little 
fiock accompanied him. The brothers wept bitterly, for the rocky 
heart of each had been touched, and religion completed the triumph 
which affection had begun. 

Such had been the situation of this family on the day allnded to 
by Mr. Easel, who could not, of course, have had any means of be- 
coming acinainted with them, but as we felt that the incidents were 
necessary to give fulness to his narratiTe, we did not hesitate lo 
introduce them here, where a knowledge of them was so necessary. 
We now allow Hr. Easel himself to resume his narrative. 

'<Thi9 venerable pastor," continues Mr. Easel, "is a thin pale man, 
but, evidently, in consequence of temperance and moderation ia his 
general haUts of living a healthy one. He cannot be less dun 
seventy, but the dngular clearness of his complexion, and the stea^ 
lustre of his grey eye, lead you to suppose tliat he is scarcely thA 
He is bdl and without stoop, and, from tlte intellectual chanct««f 


Us Ugb and benerolent forehead, added to the mildnees of his other ' 
festnreB) and his whole face, he presented, X most Bay,a Tarjatriking 
eomtnnation of dignt^ and meekness. His dress is plain, and nothing 
wn be more fine and impressiTe th«n the contrast between his simple 
black apparel, and the long flowing snow-white hair which falls over 
it His holy seal as a Christian minister, nnobsenred by secolar 
ftelings, or an nnbeooming participation in the angiy tufmbilf of 
pditical liib, possessed aB the simple besutj of pure and primitiTe 
l^e^. Father Boche received hia edncation on the Continent in 
several parts of which he has held eodesiBstical appointments, one 
being the Preeidenc; of an Irish Collie. He conseqaently ^»eaks 
moet, if not all, of the continental langoages ; but so utterly free 
ftom display, and so sim^ are his manners, that yon would not on a 
flrst Interview, no, nor on a second, ever suppose the man to be what 
he is — a moet accomplished scholar and a divine. In one thing, how- 
ever, yon never conld be mistaken — tiM his manners with all their 
iinqilid^ are those of a gentleman, possessing as they do all the 
ease, and when he chooeea the elegance of a man who has moved in 
high and polished society. He has only been a few years in Ireland. 
After a glass of wine, and some desultory conversation touching 
publio evKits, and the state ot this nnfertonate and unsettled country, 
npon an of which he spoke with singular good temper and modera- 
tion, we wrat to see the manufactory, now that I had recovered &om 
Vy fatigne. This building is two or three hundred yards frnn the 
house, and as we were on our way there, it so happened that he and 
I found ourselves b^therj and at some distance from U'Loughlin 
and his SOBS. 

" ' Tou were introduced, sir,' said he, ' to nie as Mr. EaseL' 
"I bowed. 

*" I am not inquisitive,' he added with a raiile, ' beoause in this 
case I do not find it necessary ; but I am candid.' 

" I b^an to feel slightly uneasy, so I only bowed agi^. bat could 
■ay nothing. 
" * I have met you on the continent.* 
" ' It is quits possible,' I replied ; ' I have been there.' 
" He laid his fing«r on my shoulder, and added still with a gcitle 
and rignificsnt smile, * I am in possession of your secret, and I say 
■0^ to take you, merely so far as I am concerned, out of a false, and 
myself oat of a somewhat painful position. It would be embarrassing 
to me, for instance, to meet and treat you as that which yon are not, 
knowing as I do what you are ; and it will relieve you from the 



difficulty of HDBtuDiDg a part that is sot your own, at leaat n Jar ai 
I am concemetL' 

" ' I certainly pcrceire,' I replied, ' that you ana in posseaBlcm of 
that, wluch in this ooontiy, I thougtu known only to mysdf aa4 

" * Toot secret,' he sud emphatically, ' ehalt be Inviolable.' 

" ' I fieel it, my good sir,* X lepUed ; ' and now, let me ask, on 
what part of the condnenl did we meei P* 

" liet it suffice to eay here, that he bronght himedf distinctfy 
lo my memory, through the nwdinm of a rery kind office perfoaagt 
for a friend of mine, who, at the time, stood in circomstaaoea not 
only of difficulty, bat of considerable personal danger. 

" Having viewed the manufactory which is somewhat of a. novel^ 
in this immediate locality, we were about to take our leave, when 
four men, evidently strangers, and each remarkable for that hardened 
and insolent lodi which begets suspicion at a glance, now entered the 
concern with an air of ruffian aathori^, and with all the offensive 
forms of which the law is capable, laid on an execution, to the 
amount of fourteen hundred pounds. 

" Old Mltoughlin received the intolligoncc, and witnessed the 
proceedings, with a smite, in which there was something that struck 
mo as being peculiarly manly and independent. 

" ■ This,' s^d he, * although coming from a quarter that t deemed 
to be friendly, is the heaviest blow, conneoted with our business, that 
we have received yet. Still, genUemen,' he proceeded addiesung 
Father Rocbe and myself, 'I trust it won't signify— a mere passing 
embarrassment. This manufsctoiy, as you may perceive, comi^te 
through an its machinery, which ia of the very best and costliest de- 
scription, together with the property in it, ia worth five times the 
amount of the execution.' 

" * Tes, but you forget,' replied tLe leading ruffian, ' Uiot property 
under an execution isn't to be judged by its real value. In general 
it dosn't bring one-tenth, no, nor one-fifteenth of its true value, when 
auctioned out, as it will be, under a writ.' 

" ' Ay, by Japers,* said another of them, ' an' what's better still, 
you forgot tliat your Lease is expired, and that Lord Cumber has 
sent over word for yon not to got a ranewal — nor Harman 

■' < Is this true ?' I inquired of Father Kocbe > ' do yon imagine it 
to be possible ?' 

" ' That fellow is a bad authority for anything,' ho replied, ' but i 

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feftr that) in thb point, be is too coirect. However, let ns uk 
H'Loughlln himself, who^ oertainlr, hsa the Iiest rigbt to know.' 

" 13iiB I reaolred on, not because I was ignorant of the fiwt, wbich 
700 know I bad (torn M'C9ntchy btmsel^ bnt tbat I might ascert^ 
that gentlemai^B mode of transacting bndncss, and bis fkirness 
towards Lord Comber's tenants. 

" ' Wliat tbia man eaja, Mr. H'Loagblin, surely cannot be posdbia 
—.does he mean to assert tbat Lord Cnmber refuses to renew your 
tease, although be most be aware that you have expended in the 
erection of this flne mannfactory a sum not lets, I sbonld supposCf 
than five or six thonsand poands.' 

" < Seren thonsand, nx hmidied,' replied the old man, setting me 
right, ' neariy four thousand between Hannan and us.' 

** ' Bat he does not refbse to renew your Leases certainly ?' 

" ' So,' Baid M'LongUin, ' I cannot say that bo does j but we have 
not been aUe to get any^ing like a distinct reply from him on tho 
subject; and, as far as reports go, they are certwdy not in our 
favour. We have written to Lord Cumber himself, and the only 
reply we oould obtain was, that be had placed the whole matter in 
the bands of M'CIutehy, in whose justice and integrity, he said, be 
bad the highest confidence, and that^ consequently, wc must abide by 
his decision. My own impression is, that he is detcriuincd to ruin 
us, which he certunly will, should he refuse us a renowuL' 

« ■ There con be no doubt about it,' said the eldest son, ' nor that 
bis management of the estate and his general administration of 
justice are wofully one-sided.' 

" ' I don't diooso to bear Mr. M'Clutchy abused,' said the leading 
feUow, who, in truth, was one of bis falood-hounds, as were all the 
rest, with one exception only, 'nor I won't hear bim abused. You 
wouldn't have him show the samo favour to Papists that he would 
show to good honest Protestants, that are staunch and loyal to 
Church and state — by Japers that would be nice work I Do you 
think a man's not to show favour to bis own side, either as a magis- 
trate or agrat^-eh ?—&]th that's good T 

** ■ And m t^ yon more,' stud another of them, addressing John 
H'Longblin, 'do you think, that if he dared to put Fapishes on 
a level with ns, that we'd suffer it ? By Gog you're out if you do — 
wo know a horse of another colour, my buck.' 

" ' To whom do you address such insolent language as this?' a?ked 
(he young man ; ' yon arc bore in cxccutiun of your duty, snd you 
hod better confine yourself to that.' 

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" ' To yon, wj buck, I addreoa it, Kn4 to aaj Faptah Uut Aoaal 
like it — and if I'm here to disohu^ joj dnty Pll dischu^ it,' and h* 
■hook bis besd with iiuol«noe u he nfokai ui' wha^a mssn. Tin 
afeard of no man — and m discharge mj dat^ as I like tkaf a another 
thing — u I like to diacbarge iU Hal d — ad, I'm not to be pot 
ilown b^ a parcel of Prieats and Fapiahea, if they were tea timet aa 
liad as they are.' 

" ' You are a low ruffian,' replied the young man, ' far beneath my 
resentment or notice; and it ia precisely such sconndrek as ye*, 
ignorant and brutal, who bring shame and iafany upon religion 
itself, and are a multiplied corse to the country.' 

u < Yery well, my buck,' persisted this ferocioni bigot, * mi^ be the 
day will oome when we'll make you remember tbis baison, and 
awally it too. How would you like to get a touch of tiM wreckers, 
my . buck ? — an' by Japera, take care that your not in for a lick. 
A Lease I d — me but it would be a nice thing to give the like ff yo» 
a lease I None o' your sort, my buck, will get that trick, so long as 
1<^ Bi'Clutchy's on the property." 

*■ Father Roche baring taken tho young man's arm, led him away ; 
wishing to avoid any further altercation with auch persons, and 
immediately afterwards they set about completing an inventory of all 
the property, machinery, Ac, in the eatabUshmenL 

" ' There was one expreseiou used by that man,' I obserred, wtien 
we got out again upon the Castle Cumber road, ' which I do not pro- 
perty understand ; it was, ' how would you like to get a touch of the 

*' ■ The wreckers, sir,* replied old U'Loughlin, ' ore a set of men 
Buch as that fellow we have just been speaking to, brimfiill of venom 
and hatred against Catholics and their religion. Their creed consisU 
of two principles, one of which I have just mentioned, that is, hatz«d 
of ns, Uie other is a blind attachment to the Orange system. Hiese 
two combined, constitute a loyalist of the present day ; and, with 
such impressions operating upon a large mass of men like the fellow 
inside, who belong to an ascendout party, and ore permitted to cany 
arms and ammunition wherever they like, either to search your house 
or mine, on the most frivolous pretence^ i( is not surprising tkat the 
country sitould be as it is ; but it it surprising, that expoeed aa we 
are to soch men, without adequate protection, we should poaseos any 
attachment at all to the throne and constitution of tiieee realms j or 
to a government which not only aufiSjrs such a state of things to 
to «xis^ but either coanivea at or eucourapee iL ^or iostaQoe» it 

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ma the exMUtion of sncb principles n jon have beard that man 
«TOw, that got him and those who accompany him, thKcr appoint- 
ments; for, I am aarry to say, that there is no snch snccessful 
recommendation as this Tiolent partyspirit^ even to eituaticms of the 
TCTj lowest olass. The highest are generally held by Orangemes, 
and it is attachment to their system that constitutes the only passport 
now a days to every office in the country, from the secretary to the 

" Thii^ I fear, is rather an over trae account of the state of things 
In the portion of Ireland from which I write ; hot, whilst I admit 
this, I am far &om saying that the faults are all on one side. There 
are prejudices equally ferocious, and quite as senseless and ignorant; 
on the part of the Roman Catholic party, pr^odices resulting some- 
times from education, and sometimeB from want of it ; but, which 
certdnly otmtrihute their full share to Uie almost disorganized stata 
of Botiety hy which I am surrouaded." 

From ikt same to the latiw, in eo*ti»vatum. 

"JSty 10, XB—-. 1S.J dear Spinageberd — Feeling, as I did, 
exceedingly anxious to make myself acquainted with the trae 
principles of the Orange institutions, which have spread themselves 
so rapidly over the country, I need scarcely Bay to you that I left 
nothing that was f(ur and honourable tmdone, on my part, to accom- 
plish that object; or, in other words, to ascertain whether their 
private principles, as a political body, harmonize with their pnblic 
practices. It is but fair to render Justice to every parly i and, con- 
sequendy, it is only right and equitable to enquire whether the 
violent outrages committed by the low and ignorant men, who belong 
to their body, kk defenmhle by the regulations which are laid down 
for their guidance. 

" Oa looking over the general declaration of the objects of the in- 
stitution, one is certainly struck by the fairness, and liberality, and 
moderation, joined to a becoming avowal of attachment to the Protes- 
tant religion and the throne, which it breathes. Here, however, it 
is, verbatim el literatim, in its aalhentic shape, with all that is good 
or evil in it laid clearly before you. I deem it right, however, to 
preface it by the greater portion of a short but significant report, to 
which are prefixed the following memorable names ;— • 

" At a meeting of the Grand Orange Lodge of Ireland, November 
20, 1196. Present :— Thomas Verner, Grand Master ; J. C Beres- 
foid, grand lecretaryf E. C> SmUh, jun., deputy secretary; H. A. 



Woodward, J. S. Bochfort, T. F. Knipe, Samuel MontgMnery, 
Harding GiSard, WUHam Bichardsm, John Fisher, William Corbett, 
W. O-. Galwaj, Francis Ctregorj. Harding Giffiird, and S. Uont- 
gomery, £aqr3., reported as fcdIowB : 

"^ving been honoured by the Grand Lodge with instructiona 
to iQTise and select a proper sTStem of rules, Sot the government of 
Orange Lodges^ we beg leave to ma^ a report of our progress. 

*' We are happj in being able to say, that in our duty upon this 
oocasiott, we received the greatest assistance from the exporience of 
tilie Grand Master of Ireland^And his deputy Grand Secretory, who 
did us the honour of imputing to us their sentiments. 

"Enoonraged by their help, we have ventured very materially to 
alter the shape of Uie confused system which was referred to us, pre- 
serving the spirit; and, as much oa possible, the original words, 
except where we hod te encouater gross violations of language and 

" ' The general plan of our proceeding baa been this, we have 
thrown what are, in our opinion, vciy improperly colled the six first 
general rules, into one plain short declaration of the sentiments of 
the body. 

" ' Next in order we have given the qualifications of an Orange- 
man selected from tbc Antrim regulations, and th^ rather, as it 
breathes a spirit of piety which cannot be too generally dJ0uaed 
throughout an institntion, tohote chief object, whatever political shape 
it may assume, is to pretervt the Protestant religion. * * 
"Samuel Moktgouert, 
"Hehrt Giffabd. 

■'Ko». 20. 1708.'" 


"'We associate, to the utmost of our power, to support and 
defend hia Mtyesty E3ng Georgo the Third, the constitution, and the 
laws of this conntry, and the Buccesdon to the Throne, in his 
Migesty's illnatrious house, being Protcstanls ; for the defence of onr 
persons and properties ; and to maintain the peace of the coontiy : 
and, Jbr these purposes, we wilt he at all timet ready to assist tie 
civil and military/ powert in the just and lawful discharge of their 
duty. We also associate in honour of King William the Third, 
Prince of Orange, whose name nc bear, ns supporters of hiS gloriouc 
memory, and the true religion by him completely established in theM 

THE nusH IGENT. an 

Idngdoms. And in onlcr to prorc our gratitude and afleclioii for hiii 
name, we will ■nDiully celebrate the victory over James at tlie 
Bojne, on the first day of July, 0. 8, in every year, wbicb day 
ahaH be oar grand Era for ever. 

"'We fortiier declare tbat we are exolmively a Proteetant 
Associatioii ; yet, detesdng ai we do, any intolerant spirit, wo 
sidenmly [dedge ourselves to each other, that vie mil not perteeute, 
injure, or ig)hraid m^ pert&n tm account of his rtligiom opinion*, 


will, on the contrary, be aiding and assisting to every loyal suhjecl, 
or evoiy religions description, in protecting him from violence 
and oppressioa.' 

Qmal^ealioni reqHtsittJhr an Orangeman. 
" ' He abaoSA have a ainoere love and veneration for his Almighty 
Uakor, prodacUve of those lively and h^tpy fruits, i^hteonsDesB and 
obedience to his commands, a firm and steadfast faith in the Saviour 
of the worid, convinced that ho is the only mediator between a 
nnfnl creature and an ofiended Creator — without these he cannot be 
R Christian ; of a humane and oompsssionaUi disposition, and a conr- 
teoBS and afiable behavionr. He should be an utter enemy to savage 
bmtslity and unchristian cruelty ; a lover of society and improving 
company; and have a hiadable regard for the Protestant religion, 
and a nnoere desiro to propagate its precepts ; zealous in promoting 
the honour, happiness, and prosperi^ of his king and country ; 
heartily desirous of victory and success in those pursuits, yet con- 
Tinced and assured that God alone can grant them. lie should have 
a hatred of cursing and swearing, and taking the name of God 
in Vfun, (a shameful practice) and he should use all opportunities of 
discouniging it among his brethren. Wisdom and prudence should 
goide his action^^ — honesty and integrity direct his conduct — and the 
honour and glory of his king and country bo the motives of his 
endeavours ; lastly, he should pay the strictest attention to a reli- 
gious Dbservan<» of the Sabbath, and, also, to temperance and 

Obligation of an Oraagetnau. 

"I, A. U., do sokmnly and sincerely swear, of my own froo wiH 

and accord, that I will, to the utmost of my power, support and 

defend the present king, George III., his heirs and successors, so 

long as he or they support Froteitaot ascendancy, the constitudoi^ 



and laws of tiiese kingdoms; and that I wiQ ever hold sacred lb» 
name of onr glorioos deliTerer, WiUiam tll^ Prince of Onuge; and 
I do further swear, that I am not, nor ever was, a Roman Cathdlie, 
or Fqiut; that I was not, am not, nor erer wiD be, a United Irisb- 
man, and that I nerer took die oath of secre<7 to that, or any other 
treasonable sode^t and I do farther swear, in the presence of 
Ahnighty God, that I will Blways conceal, and never will reveal, 
nlher part or parts of what is now to be privatelj communicated to 
me, until I shall be authorised so to do by the proper authoriUes of 
the Orange insdtution; that I will neither write it, nor indite it, 
stamp, stain, or engrave it, nor cause it so to be done, on paper, 
parchment, leaf, baik, stick, stone, or anything so that it may be 
known; ^and I do further swear, that I have not, to my knowledge 
or belief, been proposed and rejected in, or expelled from ahy other 
Orange lodge ; and that I now become an Orangeman withoot fear, 
briberv, or oomiption. 


Secret ArtieUt, 

" IbL That we will bear true allegiance to His Uajesty Kin^ 
George lU, his heirs and 8acces6orB,.so long as be or they support 
the Protestant ascendancy; and that we will faithfully support and 
m^tain the laws and constitution of these kingdoms. 

"Snd. That we will be true to all Orangemen in all just actions, 
ntitber wronging one, nf» seeing him wronged to onr kaowlei^ 
without acquainting him thereof. 

".'ird. That we are not to see a brother offended for sixpence or 
CHte shilling, or more, if coDvenient, which must be returned nest 
meeting, if possible. 

*<4th. We must not give the flnt assault to any person whatever; 
that may bring a brother into trouble. 

"Sth. We are not to cany away money, goods, or anything frmn 
any person whatever, except arms and ammunition, and those only 
from an enemy. 

" 6th. We are to appear in ten hours warning, or whatever time is 
required, if possible, (provided it is not hurtful to ourselves or 
families, and that we are served with a lawful summons firom the 
master,) otherwise we are fined as the ccnnpany think ^nper. 

"7th. No man can be made an Omngflman withont the unanimovi 
approbation of the body. 

"8th. An Orangeman is to keep a brother's seoretB as his «wi^ 

THE laisn agent. 2bs 

mdess in eaae of smrdcr, treason, and peijurj i and that of Ua otn 

free wilL 

"Sth. So Boman Catholii) can lie admitted on mnj McoonL 

" 10th. Any Orangeman who acts contrary to these rules, shall be 

expelled, and the same reported to all the lodges in tite kingdom and 



"Among the foregoing Secret Artidea are the following, wldoh, bf 
the way, are pret^ significant, when jHuperly understood :-~ 

"'4th. We mnit not give the first assault to any ^ervm wbaterer; 
tliat might bring a brother into trouble.' 

" ' jtb. We are not to carry away monty, goodt, or anytlilng, itaat 
any person wbatever, except armt and ammunition, and thoee only 
frcm an enemy.' 

" '6th. We are to appear in ten hours' warning, or whatever time 
is required, if poeeibl^ (provided it is not hurtful to ourselves or 
families, and that we are served with a lawful summons from the 
master), otherwise we are fined as tie company think proper.' " 

The KaAsmaa's obligation is merely a repetition of the same de- 
•eription of allegiance to the king, his heirs and successors, so long 
as he or they maintain the Protestant ascendancy, &Cq &c^ U^ethtt 
with snch other obligations of secrecy aa are to be found either in 
Orange or Ribbon lodges, with very slight difference in their form 
and expression. 

'< Now, my dear Spinageberd, I first coll your attention to that 
portion which is headed, 'Qualifications necessary for an Orange- 
man;' and I think you will agree with me that it would be difficult, 
almost impossible, to find in any organized society, whether open or 
secret, a more admirable code of quaHflcatione for such as may be 
anxious to enrol themselves amongst its members. And I have no 
doubt, that bad the other portions of it been Conceived and acted on 
in the same spirit, Orongeism would have become a very difibrent 
system from that which, under its name, now influences the prin- 
dples, and inflames the passions of the lower cUsses of Protestante, 
and stimulatee them, too frequently, to violence, and outrage, and 
persecution itself, under a conviction tliat th^ are only discharging 
th^ duties by a faithful adherence to its obligations. These obli- 
gations, however, admirable as they are and aUy drawn up, poesesi 
neither power nor influence in the system, being nothing more nor 
leaa than an abstract series of religious and mosal dntke reooM* 



mended to practice, but Btript of any force of obligation that miglit 
impress iLem on the heart and principles. They are not embodied 
at all in the oode in any shape or form tliat might touch the ctm- 
science or regulate the conduct, but, on the contnuy, stand there as 
a thing to look at and admire, but not aa a matter of duty. If they 
had been even drawn up as a solemn declaration, asserting, on the 
part of the newly-made member, a conviction that strict obaerrance 
of their precepts was an indispensable and necessary part of his obli- 
gations, as an Orangeman, they might have been productive of good 
effect, and raised the practices of the institution from many of the 
low and gross atrocities wUoh disgraced it. I cannot deny, how- 
ever, that Orangeism, with all its crimes and outrages, lias rendered 
very important aerricea to the political Froleatantism of the country. 
In fact, it was produced at the period of its foimation by the almost 
utter absence of spiritual religion in the Established Church. Some 
principle was necessniy ta keep Froteetanlism from falling to pieces, 
and, as a good one could not be found in a church which is, at this 
miHnent, ono mess of sordid and selfish secularity,' there was no- 
thing Icfl for it bnt a combination such ns this. Indeed, you could 
form no conception of the state of the ProtesUutt Church here, 
even while I write, although you might form a veiy gorgeous one 
of the EtlabluhmetU. The truth is, she is alt Establbhment asd 
no Church ; and is, to quote Swift's celebrated simile — 

" There was no purifying or restraining power in the Establish- 
ment to modify, improve, or elevate the principles of Orangmsm at 
all. And what has been the consequence ? Why, that in attempting 
to infase her spirit into the new fffstem, she was overmatched her- 
self, and instead of making Orangeism Christian, the institution baa 
made her Orange. This is fact The only thing wo have here now 
in the shape of a church is the Orange system, for if yon take that 
away what remains ? 

" This, my dear Splnageberd, is not to be wondered at; for no 
effects are without their causes. In this country nobody ever 
dreams of entering the Establbhed Church from pure and |^u3 
motives. In snrii a church piety may be corrupted, but, it is sel- 
dom rewarded. No, the description of persons who now enter the 

* Let the reader remember that this, and Almost ercrTtfaing that reSn* to the 
Iridi Ert^ll^ment, it supposed to Imve been written aboat fbrty jcan ago. 


ChuruU are tlie yoongw sons of onr nobilitj' tnd gentrj, of our 
.quires, our dignitaries, and wealthjr profesaional men ; of onr j udgea^ 
generals, our dcaii«, and onr bisbopg. Among the aon< of sucb 
men tbe Chorcb is catred onl, witb tbe exception of the cbinei, 
and sirloins, and other hett jointt, all of which are deronred by a 
peculiar class of Englishmen, named bishops, who are remadaUa 
for excessive h>ng claws, and very shark-like teeth. In tliis, how- 
ever, we do not blame England, but agree with Dean Swift, who 
asserted that in his daj she nniformlf selected tbe most nnassnmin^ 
learned, and pious individnalB she could get i fitted them out as be- 
«ame snch excellent Christian men, and sent tbem over with the 
best intentions imaginable, to instruct the Irish people in all 
Christian troth and humilltjr. It so happened, however, that as soon 
as thejr had reached Hoonslow Heath, they were every man, without 
exception, stopped, stripped, and robbed, bj the gentlemen who 
Ireqaent that celebrated locality i who, flunking the robbeiy on the 
High Chnreh was safer nod more lucrative than robbery upon the 
highway, come over here disguised in the dress of those whom they 
had robbed, and here they remained in their original capacity for 
the remainder of their lives. 

"It is impossible, in fact, that a church so deeply infected with 
political corruption, so shamefully neglected in all that is spiritual 
and regenerative, and so openly prostituted to intrigue .and ambition, 
can ever work with that high and holy efficacy which should charac- 
terise her. These, however, are not her purposes, nor are they aimed 
at. She exiata here merely as an unholy bond between the political 
interesta of the two countries, nuuntMuing British authority t^ her 
wealth, and cwrupting Irish honesty by her example. I have 
already enumerated the class of persons who enter her, and touched 
npon the tnotavea by which they are influenced. In lai^ families, 
for instance, if there happen to be a young fellow either too idle ot 
too stupid for the labour or duties of the other professions, there is no 
inoonveniesoe or regret felt. 2To aiatter — he, Dick, or Jock, or 
Tom, as the ease may be, will do very teett for tka iik»reh, ' Ton 

win make ■ Tery good panon, Tom — or a dean — or a no — hang 

it, there I must stc^ i I was abont to say bishops but not being an 
Englishman, yoa cannot oorre that dish, Dick. Never mind, yon 
ean feed upon a fat living— «r if one won't do— why, we must see. 
and get you a pur of them, BilL* 

" But this, my dear Spinageberd, is not all. You will be snr- 
prind when I l«U yoi^ that there is no system of education necessary 


M TAtwrriNE M'a.oTcnT, 

ibr entering into orders. Ho system, I repeat— properly so called^ 
either Scriptoral or EccleBiasticaL Some few dmni^ lectnres are 
to be attended, which, in general, are neither well attended— nor 
worth attending — and that, I believe, is alL One thing is certain, 
that the getting certificates of attendance for these lectures is a men 
fbrm, as is the examination for ordera. The conseqaence is, that a 
yonng candidate for a Uring goes into the church, barthened wiUi 
▼ery little of that lore which might spoil his ai^tetite for its erqoj- 
ment ; so barmonionsly does every thing here work together for the 
good of the pastors at the expense of the people. 

" I think I have shown you that there is little in the Church of 
Ireland titat ia likely to regulate or porify the spirit of Oraogeism, 
when eondng in contact with itself. That it had little to gain from 
the church in a spiritnal way, and that the church is not fulfilling the 
ends of her establishment here in any sense, is evidest from the 
' Report in the little work from which I hsve taken these extracts. 
In that passage, it would appear that the very existence of a ohnrcb 
is forgotten altogether -, for Orangeism is termed ' an institatioii, 
whose chief object — whatever political shape it may assume — ia to 
preterve the Protettant religiom! I will now, before I dose this 
batch, direct your attention to one or two passages that prove most 
distinctly the fact, that there stand clear in the oath of an Onmge- 
man, principles, founded on foregone practices and conclusifms, 
which never should have existence in a country so situated as this is. 
" The Orangemen, for instance, in the paper headed their * Genend 
Declaration,' say, ' We associate for the defence of our persons and 
properties, and to maintiUQ the peace of the country ; and for these 
pniposes we wiU be at all times ready to oMtUt the civil and military 
poweri in the just and lawful discharge of their dnty.' 

" This, now, is all very planuble ; but, perhaps, by looking a little 
more closely into the circumstances of the case, we may be able to 
perceive that in this passage, and one or two others of a nmilar cha- 
racter, the most olgectionable pert of the system lies disguised— if one 
can say disguised, becaose to me, my dear Spinageberd, the matter 
aeems obvious enough. Who, then, are tlies^ men that come forward 
with «rms in their bands, to proffer aid to the civil and mSlmry 
powers in the discha:^ of their dut^P A self-constitnted body 
without authority, who have certainly proved themselves to be Inve 
men, and rendered most important services to the state, at a time 
when snoh services were, no doubt, both necessary and acoeptaUe. 
The criMs, however, in which this aid was given and received, bea^ 

THC IBEBH AOBirr. 2 60 

Imt of brief dnratioii, soon poaaed away, leaving the party opposed to 
govenuuent — Uie rebels — bnAeni panuhed, At^ged, baaished, haagod 
in fact, oomplelely discomfited, subdued, and beaten down. Id other 
words, the rebellion of '98 having been thoroughly auppressed, this 
■elf-elected body of men, tasting the sweets of authority, retain, under 
diSbrent ciionmstanoes, those obligation^, which, we admit, the pre- 
Tioas sitnaUoD of tbe counUy bad rendered necessary. They retain 
them in Umea of peace, and bring into operation against men who 
were no longer either in a disposition or capacity to resist, those 
strong prejudice^ and that fierce spirit which originated in tumult 
and civH war. Why nobody complains of the conduct of Orangemen, 
as a body, in "SB ; it is of their outrages since, that the country, and 
such as were opposed to them, have a right to complun. 

" In another passage the dedaration is stili stronger and more sig- 
niScant ; ■ We further declare,' say they, • tliat we are' exctosively 
a Protestant association ; yet, detesting as we do, any Intolerant 
spirit, we solemnly pledge ourselves to each other, that we will not 
perMtetUe, injur*, nor upbraid any person on account of bis religious 
opinions, provided the tame be not hoitiU to Ike ttiUt! 

" That is to say, they ^ill persecute, injure, or upbrud such per- 
sons only, whose religions opinions are hostile to the state. But, 
now, let me ask any man of common sense, if he could for a moment 
hesitate to declare on oath, what religion they have alluded \a, as 
being hostile to the state ? There is, in truth, but one answer to be 
given — the Soman Catholic What else, then, is this excessive 
loyalty to the state, bnt a clause of justification for their own ex- 
eesses, committed in tbe name, and on tbe behalf of religion itself? 
Bid they not also constitute themselves the judges who were first to 
determine the nature of these opinions, and afterwards tlie anthorities 
who should punish them P Here is one triumphant party with arms 
in their hands, who have only, if they wish, to mark out a victim, and 
declare his religion and principles as hostile to the state ; and, 1o 1 
they are at liberty, by th^ own r^ulations, to ^pertectU^ bim ! 

" In the 6th secret article there occurs the following-.—' We are 
not to carry away money, goods, or any thin^ from any person 
whatever, except arms and ammunition, and these only from an 

" This certtunly shows the nature of the cruel and domiciliary 
tyranny which, subsequently to '98, they carried to such excess in difie- 
rent parts of the country ; and here, as in the other instance, what 
waa there to guide them in determining the crime which constituted 

r^cinzedoy Google 


Jul enemy? Why, their own fierce prejndlcei tlone. Herei tlieSi wv 
find a bodj irresponsible and self-canBtitnted, confederated together. 
•Dd trained in the nse of anna, (but literallj nnknown to the conril- 
tntjoni) irittmg, withont anj I^al aathori^, npoa the rellgioai 
opinions of ■ daet that are faatefbl and obnoxious to tbeio— «nd, in 
fact, eomUning within themselres the united ofltoee of both jndge 
and exacad<meT. With the charBCter of their loyalty I hare no 
quarrel ; I percdve it is oonditional ; bat the doctrine of tinctmdt- 
tionfll h^alty is so slavish and absurd, that the sooner such an 
onnecessary fetterlock is strack off the nind the better. To-morrow 
erening, however, X am to be introdnced to an Orange lodge, after 
the aetnal business of it shall have been trauacted and ckeed. This 
Is a privilc^ not conceded to many, but it is one of which I shall 
very gladly ar^ myself in order that I may infer from their oondwA 
some ftint conception <^ what it goteraHy is." 

an OKAMOX Loitea at mix vokk— soLOMoit n aia. bis auomw 


Bi.m Am smt bquitocai. — phil's kloquxhce — a < 

From the tame to Ike tame. 

"Friday, • • • 

" Thb order of bo^ess for each night of meeting is, I find, aa 
follows: — 1. Lodge to open with prayer, membeis standing. 2. 
General rales read. 3. Members proposed. 4. Reports firom com- 
mittee. 6. Names of members called over. 6. Hemben ballotted 
for. 7. Members made. 8. Lodge to close with prayer, membera 

It was about eight o'dock, when, accompanied bf a yonng fellow 
named Graham, we reached the Lodge^ whi^ in violation of one of 
its own rules, was hdd in what was formerl^^celled the Topertoe 
Tavern, bnt which has dnce been dumged to the Castle Cumber 
Arms-^being a field per pate on which is quartered a purse, and 
what seems to be an inverted nlensil of lead, hammered into a 
Xn the other is a lai^ month grinning, o|iposite to whUi 


is a staffed pocket, from which hangs the motto, " ne quid deirimenft 
mprivata agnaL" Under the foot of the gentleman is the neck of a 
fiuaine-stmck woman, snrronnded by naked and starring children, 
and it is bjr the conTenient aid of her neck that he ia enabled to 
nach the pnrse, or; and, indeed, snch is his eagerness to catch it 
and the coronet, that he does not seem to care much whether 
he strangles her or not On the leaden coronet is the motto, alluding 
to the head which fills it, " timilu limili gaudel." 

I abonld mention, before proceeding further, that Mr. Valentine 
H'Glntch^, being master of the Lodge in question, was the indivi* 
dual from whom I had receired permisaion to be present under the 
ciiciuustances already specified. The ceremony of making a member 
is inTolTed in that ridiculous mysteTy which is ealculated to meet the 
Tidgar prejudices of low and ignorant men. StHnetimes they are 
made one by one, and occasionally, or, I believe, more frequently in 
balehes of three or more, in order to sare time and heighten the 
elfect. The novice, tiien, before entering the Lodge, is taken into 
another room, where he is blindfolded, and desired to denude himself 
of his shoes and stockings ; his right arm is then taken ont of his 
coot and shirt sUeres, in order to leave his right riionlder biu«. He 
tben enten the Lodges where he is recdved in ailenoe, with the 
exception of the masteri who pnts certain queries to him which must 
be appropriately answered. After this he receives, on the naked 
shoulder, three smart slaps of the open band, as a proof of his 
wilUngneaa to suffer every kind of persecution for the' sake of troth 
-^)f his steadfastness to ttte priDciples of Orttngftjam, and of his actual 
determiniition to bear vitJenoe, and, if necessary, death itself, rathef 
than abandon it or betray his brethren.* 

About nine o'clock the bntincsa of the Lodge had been despatched) 
and, in a few minutes^ I received an intimation to enter from the 
Deputy Master, who was no other than the redonbtable and heroic Fhil 
hinwirlf: the father having been prevented from coming, it appeared, 
by sadden indisposition. As I entered th^ w»e all sedted, to the 
Bomber of thirty-five or forty, abont a long table, from which rose, 
reeking and warm, the powerful exhalations of strong ptutdi. On 
paying my respects, I was received and presented to then by Phil, 
who, on this occasion, was in great feather, being ri^ed out in all 
the pan^hemalia of Deputy Master. The rest, also, were dressed 
in their orange robes, which certainly gave them a good deal of 
Imposing effect. 

* These abraidlties have, I nniJerttsad, been abolijbtd. 



" Gentlemen," twid Pbil, — Bob Spurov, FU Ironble jon to touch 

tbe bell, and be d d to jon — gentlemen, this ia a ptrticnlu- friend 

of mine utd m^ father's — that ia, we intend to take « good deal of 
interest in bim, if it's not hia own fault, and to path him on in s 
way that may serve him ; bnt, then, he's in tbe darii yet ; however, I 
hope he won't be long so. This, gentlemen. Is Ur. Weasel from 
England, who has ctHne orer to see the conntij." 

•* Tout health, Mr. Weasd," resonnded from aD sides } " yoi^re wel- 
oome among ns, and so is eveiy friend of brother C^it^ Phil's.'* 

" Gentlemen," said I, " I feel much obliged for tbe cmxliaU^ of 
yoar reception — but allow me to say that Hr. U'CIntcbj has made a 
slight mistake in mj name, which is Easel, not WeaseL" 

" Never mind, sir," they replied, among a jingle of glosses, which 
almost preTented me from b^ng heard, " nerer mind, Mr. Evil, we don't 
care a enrse what jour name is, provided jon are a good ProtestanL 
Tour name may be Beelnebnb, instead t£ Evil, or Devil, for that 
matter — oil we want to know is whether you're ttaun^ and fd the 

" That, gentlemen," I reified, "I trtist time wiU telL' 

" I shall be jmiud— I speak it not, I hope, in a worldly sense," 
said « little thin man dressed in Uaek — " no, not in a worldly imnsn 
I shall be proud, sir, of your acquaintance. To me it is quite 
sufflciest that yon are here as the friend of my ezoellent friend, Hr. 
Valentine H'Clntchy — a man, I trust, not without a deep and 
seArohing qtirrt of — ' 

" Come, Solomon," said a large brDod-shonldered man, with a Iocs 
in wlticb were ringnlarly Uended the almost incompatible principlea 
<£ fun and ferocity, " come, Solomon, ncme of your preaching here 
BO soon I yon know you're not np to the praying pcnnt yet, nor within 
four tumblers of It. Bo^ ss yon mj ywmelf, wait for your gifls, my 

"Ah, Toat," refdied Solomon with a smile, "always fiMsetJon^— 
idways fond of a hannless and edifying jest." 

" My name, sir, added he, " is M'Slime ; I have the honour to bs 
Law Agent of the Castle Cumber property, and occasionally to 
transact business with our friend U'Clntchy." 

Here the waiter entered with a glass and tumUer, and PhD 
denied tbom to shoTe me np the decanter, this, however, I declined, 
as not being yet sufficiently accustomed to whidey pondi to be aUe 
to drink it without indisposition. I begged, however, to be a 
to snbetitnte a little eM sherry and water in its-stead. 


THE laiSB AGENT. 393 

- Tm tfeud, BiF," obwired anoUier strong-looking man, " that 71M1 
sra likelf to prove but a cool Orangaman on our handb I nerer 
saw the man tliat shied hia tumUer good for much." 

" Sir," aaid Solomon " 7011 need not feel anrpriaed at the tone oS 
ymce and familiaritj in wliioh these persons address jou or me. 
Thfljr are, so to speak, atnrdy and independent men, who, to the natnral 
boldneas of their character, add, on each occasions as tliia, something 
of the equality and license that are neoeesarilj to be found in an 
Orange lodge. I am, myself, here, I trusty on different and higher 
principles. Indeed, it is from a purely religions motive that I come, 
as well as to gire them the benefit of a frail, but not, I would hope, 
altogether unediiying example. Their language makes me often feel 
how mach I stand in need cf grace, and how good it is sometimes for 
me to be tempted within my strength. I also drink punch here lest 
by declining it I might get into too Strong a feeling of pride, in pro- 
bably posseenng greater gifts { and I need not say, sir, that a 
watchful Chrisdan will he slow to nuas any opportunity of keeping 
himself humble. It is, then, for this purpose that I aometimee, when 
among these men, make myself even as one of them, and humUe 
myself, always with an eye to edificatiou even to the fourth or fifth 

" Bnt I trust, ur, that these Christian deaeents from your vantage 
ground an generally rewarded." 

" Without bosating, I trust I may say so. Theao little sacrifiees 
of mine are not without their own appropriate compensations. Indeed 
U is seldom that such stretches of dnty on the right side, and for the 
improvement of others, are made altogether in v^n. For instance 
after the humility) if I can call it so, of the third cup, I am rewarded 
with an tagj uprising of the spiritual man — a greater sense of 
inward freedlmi — an elevation of the soul — a benign beatitude of 
spirit, that difiuaes a calm serene happiness through my whole being." 

" That, sir, most be delightfuL* 

" It it delightful, but it ia what these men— carnal I do not wish 
to call them Uat I fall — it is, however, what these men, or, indeed 
any merely carnal man, cannot experience. This, however, I feel to 
be a omnmonication made to me, that in this thing I should not for 
the time st<^ ; and I feel that I am not free to decline the fourth or 
fifth cup, knowing as how greater freedom and additional privileges 
will be granted." 

"Are- the stages well marked, sir, between the fourth and fifth 

r^cinzedoy Google 


** Caps, mj fnend — then is a beantj, sir, in the econcMOj ol tUa 
that is Bot to be concealed. For instance, the line batweui the third 
and fourth cup is mnch bdtsr narkedt Md no doabt Cor wiau- 
pOrpoeeB, than is that between the fourth asd fifth. At the fonrta 
mj spirit is filled with strong derotional lendenoiei^ and it is given 
to me to address the Lodge with somethiDg lila» nnotional efieot ; bat 
at the fifth this ecatatie spirit riioB sdll higher, and assswe* the ibnn 
of pruse, and psalms, spiritnal songs, and political anthona. In thia 
whole asaemblf, I am sorry to sa^t that there is but one othw humble 
indiTidnal, who, if I may so ^>e^ is similarly gifted, and goes along 
with me, pari patnt, as th^ say step by Step, and cup by cop, until 
we reach the highest order, which ia praise. But, indeed, to persons 
so gifted in their liquor, drinking is deddedly a religions exercise. 
Hist penton is the litOe fellew to the ri^t <^ the red-faced man 
up yonder, the litde fellow I mean, who is pale in the face and wants 
an eye. Bis name is Bob Spai^t i h« is grand cobbler, by appoint- 
ment to the Lodge, and attends all the Popish execaUons in the 
province^ ttom prind^ { for ha is, between you and me, a Christiaa 
man of high privileges. As for our little touches ef mdodia taera 
during the fifth enp, the (miy draw bock is, that no matt«r what the 
measure of the psalm be, whether long or short, Bob Is sure to sing it 
ulher to the tune of Cropfrfes lie Down, ot the Boyne Water, they 
being the only two he can manage ; a circumstance which forces ns, 
howevCT otherwise united, to part company in the melody, unless 
when moved by compassion im poor Bol^ I occasionally join him ia 
Croppies lie Down or the other tone, for the poipose of sustaining 
him as a Christian and an Orangeman.* 

At this time it was something like efibrt that he or I could hear 
each other as we spi^e, and by the way, it was quite evident that 
litde Soltonon iras very nearly in all his glory, from Hm very slight 
liquefoction of language which might be observed in his oonvenation. 

It occurred to me now that, as Solomon's heart was a little open, 
and as die tide of oonTeraation flowed both loud and tumultuous, it 
was a very good opportuni^ of getting out of him a tolerably fair 
account of the persons by whom we were surrounded. I accordingly 
asked him the name and occupation of several whom I had observed 
as the most striking individuals present. 

" That large man with the red face," said I, " beside your pious 
and musical friend Spaigbt — who is he P" 

" He ia an Orange bntoher, sir, who would think very little of 
giving a knock on the head to anj Protestant who won't deal wilk 


hJDk His Undlord'stenuitaareilXintoneiialfofthflBiCalhouciiUid 
Um other hali Prateatuta, and M be makei it a point to Iwre thom 
his oofltom in sboat eqiud degree^ this foUow— wbo^ between jon mod 
mes ii rigbt in tlie principle, if be wwild only tarry it ont ■ littfe 
more qoietl; — aukei it » atMidlng grievance every Lodge nig^t. 
And, by tfae hy, jon will kenr tbem tbaee each other like pickpockets 
for tlM SBBte reeooB. There ia • giin-Iooking £diow, with the great 
flate^ » bbwkamith, who is at dWdlf enmitj with th&t Ugfal, firm- 
locking man, toaohing tfae ihoeing ^ M'Clntehj'a cavalry. Val^ 
irho knowa a th»g oe two, if I may ao apeak, keeps them one <iS and 
the otlier on so admirably, that he oontriTea to get his own honea 
■hod, and all Us other inn w<^ don^ free, gratii^ and for nothing; 
betwaan them. Thia is the tralh, brother Weaael.- in fact, iny dear 
brother Weasel, it ia the tmlh. There are few here who are not 
moved by smne perscMial hi^ or e^iectatioa from somelhing or Irom 
somebody. Down there near the door are a set <tf fellowa — ^whisper 
in yomr ear -abowt aa great seoimdrels as yoa ooold meet with— 
fasoleat, fierce^ fiiriona men, with bad passions uid no piinciplec^ 
whoae dief dcdight is to get dmnk — to kick np party fenda in fain 
and markets, and who hav^ in fact, a natural Ion for strife. But 
all an not ao. Then an many respeeUbla men here wbo^ though a 
little touched, aa is only natanl after all, by a little ommaIm of self 
interest, yet never sadfer it to interfere with the steadiness and pio- 
priaty of their oondoct, or thor love of peace and good wiU. It is 
these men, who, ia trath^ sustain the character of the Orange Insti- 
totion. These are the men aC independenoe and education who 
npnm, aa litr as they can, the turbulence and oatrage of the others. ' 
Bat^ heai^n I now they b^in." 

At this moment the din in ^ rooaa wasezoeasive. Fhil had bow 
begun to feel tlte influence of liquor, aa was evident fhim the frequent 
thumpinga which the table received at his hand— the awful 
knitting of hia eyebrovs, as he commanded aileaee — and the mnlti- 
l^id^ of "d— a my honour^ which interiarded his conversatioa. 

"Silence, I say," be shoutedt "d — n my honoor if I'll bear this. 
&re's Ur. ffeaail-eh — Bvil, or Devil; d— n my honour, I forget'— 
who baa orane «v-over all tbe way — (all the way from Galloway, is 
that itP— go on) — all the way from England, to get a sample of Fro- 
testantism to bring h<mie with him to distribute among his father's 
tenanb^. Kow, if he can't And that among ourselves to-night, 
where the devil would, or eould, or ought lie to go to look for it ?" 

" Harra, hravo ; hear brother Captain FhiL" 



" Ye>, gentlemen," oontinaed Phil, riaiiig np, " jee, Mr. Civil— 
Evil — Devil ; d — n 1117 bononr, I nuut be on it now ; I un bold to 
Mj that we are— are— ft set of — >-'' 

"Hurra, hnrra; we are, brother Ci^itun Fhill" 

« And, gentlemen, not odIj that, but tntt bluei. (Three cbeera 
for the Castle Cumber Tme Blue.) And what'e a tme bine, gende- 
men 7 I ask jon zealotuly — I ask jou u a genUeman— I ask yoa 
aa a man — 1 aak yon detenninedlj, as one that will do or die^ if it 
comes to thal^ — (here there was a thump on the table at every wtvd) 
— "I ask 70a as an officer of the Castle Comber Cavalry ; and 
gentlemen, let any man that hears me — that hears me, I say — becsose, 
gentlemen, I ask apon independent principles, as the Depoty-Uaater 
of this Lodge, gentlemen — (cheers, hurra, hurra) — and the question 
is an important one — one of the greatest and moat extraordinary 
comprebennon, so to speak, becans^ gentlemen, it involves — this 
great questjos does — it involves the welfsre of his nuyesty, gentle- 
men, and of Uie great and good Sing 'William, gentlemen, who freed us 
from Pope and Popery, gentlemen, and wooden shoes, gentlemen " 

" But not from wooden Bpo<»is, genUemen," in a disguised voioa 
from the lower end of the table. 

" Eh P certainly not ; certainly not. I thank my worthy brother 
fiv Ae hint Xfo, gentlemen, we unfortunately have wooden spoons 
up to the present day ; but, gentlemen, if we work well togelLer — if 
we be in eamest-r4f we draw the scabbard and throw away tbe bladc^ 
like onr brothers, the glorions heroes of Scullab(%ue-~-there is as 
little doubt, gentlemen, as that the sun this moment— the moon, 
gentlemen — I'beg pardon— shines this moment, that we will yet 
banish wooden spoons, as the great and good King William did 
Papery, brass money, and wooden shoes. Grentlemen, yon will 
excuse me tor this warmth ; but I am not ashamed of it: it is tlie 
warmth, gentlemen, that keeps ns cool in the moment — tiie glorious, 
pious, and immortal moment of danger and true loyalty, and attach- 
ment to OUT Charoh, which we all love and practise on constitutional 
principles. I tmst, gentlemen, you will ezcose me for this historical 
aocouQt of my feelings; they are the principles, gentlemen, of a 
gentleman — of a man — of an officer of the Castle Cumber CaTalrj— 
and lastly, of him who bos the honour — the glorions ^u^ and 
immortal bononr, I may say, to bold the honourable situation of 
Deputy-master of this honourable Lodge. Gentlemen, I propose our 
charter toast, with nme times nine— 4hB glorious, pions, and immwtal 
memory. Take the time, gentlemen, from me ; hip, hijp, knml* 



" Brother U'Clutchj,''Bdd a sotemnloiAiiig man, dremed in Uaek, 
" joa are a little ont of order ; or, if not out of order, you have, with 
gteat respect, travelled oat of the osages of tbe Lodge. In the first 
I^aoe— of course 70a will pardon me, I apeak with great reelect ; 
bat, in the first place, 7011 have proposed the charter toast before that 
ef tbe Bln^ Protestant Ascendancy, Church and State ; and besides, 
have iwopooed it with nine times nine, thoagh it is alwaji drunk in 
solemn silenoe.'' 

" In all truth and piet^, I deny that," replied little Bob Spaight. 
"When I was in Lodge Eleranteen, eleTen-leei^— n0i seventeen! aj, 
aeventeen— fwe alwajs, undher God, drank it with cheers. Some of 
Ibem danced; but others, I won't name them, that were more 
gracionsly gifted, chorused it with that blessed air of ' Croppies lie 
doiAi,' and sometimes with the predons psalm of the ' B<^e water.'" 

" Fm obliged to Mr. Hintwell for his observations, for I'm sure 
they were well meant," continued Phil ; " but, gentlemen, with every 
respect for his — his greater and more tractable qnoliflcations, I mast 
say that I acted from seal, from seal ; for, gentlemen, whaf s aa 
Orangeman without seal ? rU tell yon what he is — an Orangemaa 
without zeal is a shadow without a light, a smoke without a fire, or a 
Pajnst witkont treason. Thal^s what he's like ; and now, having 
tBBwered him, I think I may sit down." 

Phil, however, whose first night of office it happened to be, as 
^■ti^ipmnii of the Lodge, had still sense enough about him, w}ien set 
light, to go on with tbe toasts in their proper order. He accordingly 
eommenoed with the E^ng, Protestant Ascendancy, the Gates of 
Bandon, with several other toasts peculiar to the time and place. At 
length he rose and sud : — < 

" Gentlemen, are you charged P Fill high, gentlemen, for, though 
it's a low toast, we'll glorioosly rise and drink it; are you aU 

" AU chafed i hurra, captain I" 

"Here, gentlemen, another of our charier toasts— The Pope in 
Ike pilloiy, tiie pillory in hell, and the devils pelting him with 
priests I Gtentiemen, I cannot let that — that beautiful tosst pass 
without— ont adding a few wtaia to ik Gentlemen, it presents a 
glorious sight, a glorious, pious, and immortal memory of the great 
and good — ha, h^ pardon, gentlemen — a glorious, pious, and im- 
Stortal sight— think of the pillory, gentlemen ; isn't that in itself a 
giorioua and pious sight ? And think of the Pope, gentlemen ; isn't 
tbe Pope also a glorioua.and pious sight ?" 

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<*Witb «U txntli ud pietjr, and xmder God, I denj Uw^" Mid 

" Ad4 ao do I," said a aeoond. 

« And I," added a third. 

" WLat dunned Pt^ish doctaioe ia tiiia P' Mid Mvenl othen. 

*• Brother Phil, be good enoligh to reotdleet jrotmel^'' Mid Bolo- 
mon 1 " we fed that, m a Protestant uid an OrangamaD, yon are not 
doctrioally conect now ; be iteady, or rather steadfiut— «Bt ia the 

PhU, however, looked oracles, hia whole face and penon were 
literally being expanded, as it were, with the oonsoionsiMM of soma 
immediate triomph. 

" G^tlemen," he proceeded, " have a little patienoe— I mj the 
Pope w a glorions and fnons aight — " * 

« Undher God—" 

« SUenoe, Bob." 

** But I mean when he's in tfie pillory — eh, d — it my honour, I 
have yoD all there 1 h% ha, ha 1" 

" Hurra, hmra, three cbevs more for the oqrtain 1" 

** Qentlemen," he prooaeded, "please to flll again — I give yoa 
now the Caatle Camber preas, the ' Troe Blue and Eqnivocal,* with 
the healths of Heasrs. Yellowboy and Cantwell ." 

** Hurra I Measra. Yallowboy and Cantwell 1 Hnrra — Mr. Tellow, 
Mr. TeUow." 

Mr. Tellowboy, who had not been able to oome earlier, in o(»ia»- 
quence of the morrow being publishing day with him, now row. He 
was a tall, thin, bony-looking person, who might very well have takes 
his name from his cmnplexion. 

" Mr. chairman, gentlemen, and brothers— I rise with great and 
powerful diffidence to speak, to express myaelf, and to otter my 
eentimenta before this most respectable, and, what is more^ traly 
loyal auditory — hem. In retnming t^n"!", gantlemea, Atr the 
Castle Cumber * True Blue* (cheers), I am sure I am not actuated 
by any motive but that stannch and loyal one which stimulates us 
alt— hem. The " True Bine,' gentlemen, is eondncted — has been 
conducted — and shsH be conducted to all eterai^ — shoidd I eonlinne 
k) be so long at the head of it — so long, I ny, goitlemen* — ^hera the 
speaker's eye began to roll, and he slanted the table with vehemoica 
— " I shall, If St the head of it so long, eutduct it to all eternity upon 
the selfsame idontical, nnderivating printRples tliat have idcralifled me 
with it for the last six months. What's Proddeatantism, geatlouen, 


iritbont t bol^ Btraightfonrard, indepesdent press, to take care o[ it* 
prarilegeB and intereots ? I^b Dothing, genUemen." 

** Under Qoi, sir, uid witli all pietj uid peiwreranoe, I den;—" 

••aienoe, brotker Bob, don't intermpt Hr. TeUowbof-JLell 
nuke hinuelf plain, hj and by." 

'* I deny — " 

" SQenee, I Bay.' 

** Nothing, gentlemen — a candle that's of no UH nnleas it'i lit— 
and the jbcbs ia the match that lights it (hurra — eheers). Bat, as I 
said, in defending Fmddeetantisn), we advooate oiril and religions 
UbeTQr all over the world — I say ao boldly — for, gentlemen, whatever 
[ say, I do say boldly" — here he glanced at the ' £quiToeaP — " I am 
not the man to present yon with two facas— ^w Pm not the man 
rather to carry two faces — and only show yon one of them — I^ not 
the man to make prntensionB as a defeadw of civil and religious 
liberty with a Fmddestont face to the front of my head, and a Popish 
face in my pocket — to be prodnoad tor the adversary of Fopery and 
idolatry— whenever I can coneiliate a clique by doing ao." Here 
there was a look of sarcastic defiance tnmed apon Cantwdl — who, 
GOOBcions of his own integrity, merely returned it with, a meek and 
benignant anile, a ia Bdmnon. 

"Noi gentlemen, I am none of these things — but a bold, honest,. 
nneompemiBiDg Praddestant— who will support the ofanrcb and con- 
slitation for ever — who will nphold FmddeBtant Ascendant^ to the 
day of jndgment — keep down Popery and treason — and support civil 
and religions liber^ over the world to all eternity." 

" Cheers — bnrra — hurra — success brother Tellowboy V 

" And now, gentl^nen, before I sit down there is but one obser- 
vation more that I wish to make. If it was wily idontifled with 
myself I would never notice it — but it's not only idondfied with me, 
bnt with yon, gentlemen — for I am soiry to say there is a snake in the 
grass— a base, dangerous, equivocal, two-footed reptile uunong ub— 
who wherever truth and loyalty il concerned never has a leg to stand 
npmi, or can put a pen to papw but with a deceitful calumniating 
intention. He who can divulge the secrets of our lodge"— (Here 
there was another furious look sent across which received a polite 
bow and smile as before)—'' wbo can divulge, gentlemen, the secrets of 
onr lodge, esd allude to thoee who have been there — I refer, gentl&- 
men, to a pantgraph that appeared in the Equivocal sonte time ag<^- 
in which a hint thrown out that I was found by the editor of (hat 
papOT lying drunk in the channel of Castle Cumber ICain-strect 

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oppoute his office — that he bronght me in, recovered me, And tbea 
helped me home. Now, gentlemeii, I'll just mention one drenm- 
Btance that will disprove the whole heae and calnnmions charge — it 

Is this OD risiag next morning I fonnd th^ I had eight and three 

half-pence »aji in m^ pocket — and, yet, that reptile says that be , 
oarried me into his house 1 1 1 Hating thna, gentlemen, triumphingljr 
refuted that charge, I have the pleasure of drin]cing jour healths — 
the healths of all honest men, and confnsitm to thoee that would 
betray the secrets of an Orange lodge I" 

As each paper had its party in the lodge, it is not to be snppoeed 
that this attack upon the Editor of the Equivocal was at all received 
with unanimous aj^irobation. Far irora it. Several hisses were 
given, which again wen met by cheers, and these by connter cheers. 
In this disorder Ur. Cantwell rose, his iWce beaming with mildness 
and benignity — sweetness and smilei — and having bowed, stood all 
meekness and patience until the cheering was over. 

"Brother CantweU," siud Solomon, "remember to discard self- 
reliance — let thy snp — support be from" — but before he could £ni^ 
brother Cantwell turned round, and blandly bowing to him, seemed 
to say — for he did not speak — 

" My dear brotber, U'SUme, I follow yonr admirable advice ; yon 
see I do — I shalL** 

"Mr. chairman," said he, "gentlemen uid dear brothers" — here 
he paused a moment, whilst calmly removing a tnmbler out of his 
way that ha might have room to place his hand upon the table and 
gently lean towards the chainnan. He then serenely smoothed down 
*the fiill of bis shirt, during which his friends cheered — and ere com- 
meiH^g he gave them-anotlier short, and, as it were, parentbelieal 
bow. " Mr. churman, gentlemen, and dear brothers, I do not rise 
upon this very unpleasant occasion — unpleasant to me it is, but not 
on my own account — for the purpose of giving vent to the coarse 
effoNona of an unlettered mind, that shapes its vulgar ontponrings 
in bad language and worse feeling. K<^ X am incapable of the bad 
feeling, in the first place, and, thanks to my education, of illiterate 
language, in the second. It has pleased my friend Mr. Tellowboy — 
if he will still allow me to call him so— for I appeal to yon all 
whether it becomes those who sit under this hallowed roof to dis- 
agree — it has pleased him, I say, to bring charges against me, to 
some of which f certainly must plead guilty — if guQt there be in it. 
It has pleased him to charge me with the nnbrotherly crime, the nn- 
ehristian crime, the nn'Orange crime" — here he smiled more Uandly 


ftt every term, and then bronglit hia nniling eye to bear on hia 
antegonist — " of lifting him ont of the channel about twelve o'clock 
«t night, where lie lay — I ntay say lo among onnelvea — In a state of 
BMM comfiwtable, but nn-orange like bttoxication." 

The andieDce now being mostly drunk, were tickled with tbia cwn- 
p&neot to their sobriety, and cheered and aboated for more than a 
minute. " Oil on Caotwell I By Japers yon're no blockhead !" 

" Under Providence, and with all piety I say i^ he will vanqnish 
the yalknr sinner over there." 

•* Brother Cantwell," observed lUr. M'Slime, "go on — the gift is 
not withheld." 

Another smiling bow to M'Slime, as much as to say, " I know it's 
not— I feel it^a not." 

" This, gentlemen, and dear brothers, was my crime — I acted the 
good Samaritan towards bim — that was my crime. May I often 

"Is that yonr pr^ended chari^, airP* stud Yellowboy, whose 
temper was sorely tried l^ the other's calmness ; " don't you know* 
air, that yon cannot become the Samaritan, nnless I become the 
drunkard ? and yet yon hope ofiam to commit ill" 

!No notice whatsoever taken of this. 

** — Bnt peibaps there was still a greater orime in this affair, I 
allude lo the crime of havinf^ after the account of hia faulty had 
taken wind through the whole country, ventured to defend it, or 
rather to place it in such a light as might enable the public to set it 
to the aooount of mere animal exhansti<»i, independent of the real 
eanse. And I have reason to know, that to a very enlarged extent ■ 
I BUGoeeded — Tot many persons having heard of Uie circumstance in 
its worst and most ofiensive sense, actually came to my office " 

" Tes^ after yon had made it public, as far as yon coald." 

" — To my office, lo inquire into it And I assure yon all, 
gentlemen, that from motires at once of the Christian and the 
Orangeman, I merely informed them that the gentleman had cer- 
tainly had, about tite time apecifled, a very severe fit — I did not add 
of intoxication — on the contrary, I charitably stepped there i and 
now it would appear that this foriMsrance on my part is another 
crime. But even that is not alL Tlie oocauon which called forth 
tbe paragraph in the paper which I have the hononr to conduct* was 
one which I will just allude to. Some time ago there was inserted 
in the True Blue a short article headed ' Smimata amd Ae Elders' ia 
which certain vague and idle reoorts, bbricaled by some person who 

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bean enmity ta a most reapectftble Chrittian gantkmtn, who boatKn 
us this night with his praseao^i— " 
Scdomonhien ^qiroaidted him, and giufdog his hand, aidKimsd — 
"Thank 700, mj dear brother Cantwell — thank yon n hutdrad 
timui joni'a is th« part of a tma ChrMttaat ao go on, I entreat 
jon — here is nothing to be »■>»■"'*■* 4^—1 know h is good to be 

" Now it was realtj the chant? contained in the articte firam the 
Tme Bine that atmck me ao forcibly— £» it not tadj brastbed Uie 
ecandal so gentlj, that it would scarcelj stain a mirroT^— and it did 
not stain tfie mirror against which the report was direeted^-bot it 
placad it, as it wer^ bef<»e his eyes, that he might not be maligned 
withont bis knowledge) on taking steps to triun4)h orar it ; wUdt 
•or firiend did — and great was his trimnph, and meekly was it borne 
Wk the ooca^on. With reepect to my political creed, gentlemen, yon 
all know it is my boast that I belong to no party. I advocate Inwad 
and general principles t and the more oomprehsnsiTe they are, so 
does my love of kind take a wider range. I am a patriot, that ia mf 
boast a moderate man —an odocated man ) I am at least * c<Hnpetenl 
master of the English langnage, whiiA I tmsl( I can write and speak 
like a gentleman. I am not given to low and groas habits of life ; I 
am never fbond in a state of beastly intoxleation, late at night, or 
early in the day { n<nr do I snfier my paper to beooms the vcAiide of 
grati^ing that priTate slander or personal reseabnent which I am 
not capable of writing myself, and have not the eonnge to acltnow- 
ledge as a man. I am not a poor, lucked, tiorse^whipped, and 
iegnAed scoandrel, whose malignity is only aurpaased by my 
cowardice— whoae principal delight ia to stab in the daiic— a 
lurking assassin, bnt not an open mnrderw — a sneaking, i&nlking 
thief, withoot the "■■"i*""" of the highway man — a pntiful, servile 
-■ — ^bnt, I believe, I have swd enough. Well, gentlenien, I tnut I 
am notM of thceei nor am I s^ing who is. Perhaps it wouhl be 
impoanble to find them all oentond in the same man; but if it wer^ 
it would oertaittly be quite as extratodinary to find that man seated 
at an Orange Lodge. BrotlMr Tellowboy, Z have Ite plearare trt 
drinking yoMT health t" 

Brother Tellowboy felt that he was no match at all for CantweQ ; 
so in wder to escape the fiirther venom of his tMigne, h« drank hir 
in return, and joined in the dieers with which hie speech was re 
edved ; fw by this time the audience cared not * fig what was sate 
bj either party. 

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UOBT ooiiro HOMs HI thk dask— the taivx or a lakthoxit. 

Thb character or forms of ^ecenc; which had hith^to prevailed, 
now began to disappear. M'Clutchj'e Uood-boanda or vreckei^— 
for they were indisctiinhiatelf termed both — having drank a great 
deal of liquor, became quite violent, and nothing now was heard but 
parly BongB, loud talk, and offensive toasts, mingled with a good deal 
of perstmal abuse, and private jealouBies of each other's influence 
with U'Clutchj. 

" D — n your Uood, Grimes, Tm as loyal aa ever yon-were. Wasn't 
my grandfather a Tory hunter, who houghed, and hanged more 
bloody Fapiahee— " 

"Who's that," said Bob, "talking about hanging Papishee? 
Where — ^where are thc^ to be hanged P Under God, I hare seen 
more of the villuna hanged than any ether frail sinner in the pro- 
vince. Oh it is a consoling — a sustaining sight 1" 

" What's the reason, then, that the Protestant gentry of the countiy 
don't Stand by their own ? Why do they deal with Fapishes ? By 
JaipexB, they don't deserve us to stand by tiiem." 

" I say, Fulton, it's a d — d lie. I was at tha wrecking of the 
BoUyglasB Threshers, when you shabbed nckness aiwl wouldn't go." 

" And Pm glad I didn't. A purty business you made of it— -to 
poll down the booses, and wreck the fumiture about the ears of a 
set of women and children; I say such conduct is disgraceful to 

" An' what the devil right have you to expect the sai^eant^p, 
then, when you won't perform its dnties ?" 

"I don't care a d— n about yoa or it. The pope in the pilloiy, 
Uh ^Dory in b— I— " 

" — Smt the bullet through his pahn, and kept his finger and 
tLnmb togetbenever sinc^— 

~» ' Un laro mUballao, HUibaBeto tyaUviala.^ 



' ~^leet or danghter, holy miter, 

Sprinkle the CkUudlci ereiy one ; 
Cut tbea anmdtt, and make them Ue nndbcr. 
The Pnteatuit boyi will carry their on. — 

" — They cut never stand the gona — tlie lead makes them fly — 
and, l^ Japera, tiiej^ get it. — " 

" — What health, man 7 ant with it; are we to At here all night 

" He gets half bis bread from a d - — d PapUh, merely becuue 
he's hia tenant— instead of getting tiie whole of it from me, that's 
better than a tenant^ a brother Onmgauon — 

— ■• • King James he pitched hii tenti bstween 
The line* for to retire : 
Bnt Elng WiUism threw bli bomb balls In, 
And Mt them sU oo flie.'— 

In fact the confunon of Babel was nothing to it now, erery voice 
was lond, and what between singing, swearing, shonting, aj^poing, 
drinking toasts, and howlings of varioas descriptions, it would not be 
easy to find anything in any other coontry that could be compared 
to it. 

Fliil himself was by this time nearly as drank as any of them, bnt 
in eonsequenoe of several hints from those who preserved their 
aobrie^, and several of them did, he now got to his legs, and called 

" Silence, sil-8U--a0eiice, I say, d — n my honour if Til bear this. 
Do yoa think (hiccnp) we can sep-separate without drinking the 
Castle Cu-Cumber toast. Fill, gentle-{hiocup)-men, here's I^ord 
Cumber and the Castle-Castle Cu-Cumber property, with the health 
Of 8oU8ol-SoIo-8olomon M'Slime, Esq,— 

—"■ Por Qod will be OUT king this day, 
And 111 be the general over— eh — oier— do, do, ondtr.*.— 

" Under, I believe (hiccup)—'' 

" Silence, there, I say." 

" My friends — my dear friends," sud Solomon—" my iHvthers.— 
my Chriadan brethren, I should say, for you are Christian brethren — 
Lord Cum-her'a health is a good Ihio^ and his pn^terty is a good 
thingt and I — I return you thanks for it, as I am bound to do, as a 
Christian. An I Christian ? Well — " (here he smiled, and laying 



hia bMid npoa iai beaii, added,) "well) I know what I feel Atn, 
Uiut is all. Mj dear friends, I said that Lord Cumber's health and 
liroperty were good things, but I know a thing that's better, more 
valuable, richer— and what is that? It is here, in thU poor frail— 
but not frail so long as that thing is here — that thin^ what is it? 
Ul^ if joH had prajed for it, wrestled for it, fought for it, as I did* 
yu would know what it is, and all the delightful and elevating con- 
so-soIatiouB it brings along with it. Surely some one drank Lord 
Cund>er*a health! That was well; he sitteth in a high place, and 
dederveth honour. Let ns drink his health, mj friends — let us drink 
it, j&t, abundantly, even unto nyoicing. But What is this thing? 
"Whj, it is the sense of inward support, a mild, sweet light, that dif- 
fuses pleasant thonghts through yon, that multiplies every good gift 
about you, that nukea one cup of pleasant liquor seem twck It is 
not nnto many that these things are vouchsafed t not, I believe, to any 
here, always with humility and fear be it spoken, excepting to B<A 
Slight and myself — >" 

—"July the flnt fai Oldbridge towa. 

tlteTe wu k grierioBS battle. 

Where nuuiy a man Iq' on the groaiid, 

Bf ttie oumimi that did rattle." 

" Yua," puraued Bob, " the gift is como, brother Solomon — tha 
fifth cup always bringd it — 

— Sing Jftme* he pitched h!i tents between" — 

" Ay, but, brother Bob," resumed Solomon, "the gift is a little to« 
soon on this occseion. Let ma give the words, and. Bob, if you could 
manage the ' Protestant Boya,' rather than * Croppies lie down,' it 
would suit it} and, indeed, it would be well if the whole congregaticn 
joined ns in it. I shall give the words— let me see, long meuura^ 
eight lines, four nines, and four six-sizea ; — 

" There*! nought but care on every hani], 
la every hoar that pain*, oh, 
Whu lignidet the life o' mso. 
An' 'tvere not for the Ihm*, oh." 

I right?" ^ 

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ioa Valentine M'cLUTcnt 

*' Eight," they shouted, "you never were half bo right, ^oIomM, 
We'll join you to a man i" and accordingly, with one voice, they g»TS 
the jtanza at the top of their voices, Uttle Bob leading them, to the air 
of "Croppies lie down," in a style that was perfectly irresistible. 

Thus ended a night in an Orange Lodge, bat not so out of it. 
Those who had to go any distance, were armed, and the consequence 
was, that when they got out into the street, they commenced tl^eir 
usual courses : shots were fired in every direction, offensive songs 
were sung— "any money for the face of a Papist^' — "to hell with the 
Pope" — " Bam down Catholics," and so on. At length, by degrees 
theee all ceased, the streets gradually grew quiet, then still, and another 
night closed vpon the hatnla of a class of men, who, In the wantonness 
of thdr power, scarcely knew what they did. 

Having nitaesaed tlie scene just described — a scene that aooounted 
very clearly for at least one important phnse of Irish life— I deemed 
it full time to go to btA, this being the Inn in which I stop. 1 
accordingly was about to ascend the sturcase, from the lobtry^ for w« 
sat in the back drawing room, when I thought I heard a voice that 
was not unfamiliar to me, giving expression to language in which 1 
could perceive there was a very perculiar blending of love and devo- 
tion I that is to say, it was exceedingly difGcult> from the admirable 
tact with which he balanced the application of the two princtplei^ 
whether .Sokonon, for it was he, loved the physical or the spiritual 
system of the barmud, for it was she, with more earnestness and 
warmth. The family at this time had aU retired for the night, with 
the exception of " B4Xits,'' and tbe barmaid in question — a well-made, 
pret^ Irish girl, with a pur of roguish eyes in her head, that beamed 
with fun and good humour. Solwnon, instead of going home, had 
got into a little retired spot behind the bar, called the Snuggery, and 
into which, of course, she att^ided him with a glass of liquor. 

" Eliza," aiud Solomon, " EBm, I have often had an Intention of 
(uking yon to allow me the privilege and the pleasure E&a, of soum 
■erions conversation with you. tt is a trying world, a wicked woH^ 
and to-to a giri— so charming a t^ ss yon are, Eliza — " 

" Charming, Mr. M'Stime ; well, well 1" 

" Charming, certainly, as regards your person, your external per- 
sona—your person is indeed very charming, and verily, BUxa, this 
brandy and water is tnilj precious^ so beautifully blended, that I 
cannot — now, Eliza, will you pardon me a small, but I trust, not nn- 
edifying joke ; yes, you will — I know — I see you will — very welL 
then, the little joke is pardoned — this brandy and water are ao beaati- 




tHB lEian AQENT. Silj 

ft^ lilended, that Icsnnotbelp thinking there la Bemetiiing In thftt 
swoet hand of yours that dif — diffufiea a delicious flavour upon it— I 
knoir that such thingt exiat." 

" Upm my word, Hr. M'Slime, from Boch a religioili gentleman as 
joa an, I didn't expect—" 

"Ah, my dear Eliza, that is coming to the root of the matter, and 
I am f^aA to find that you are not insensible to it. On that subject, 
Biy Bireet ^1, and you are a sweet girl — it is tiiat I propose to spei^ 
trith you — to commune with you — in a spirit, my dear Eliza, of love 
and afitetion. Will you then take a seat — a peat — my dear Eliza." 

" I fear I cannot, sir t you know there is uo «» Olse to keep an 
eiyetothe bar." 

" The business of the bar, my dear ^1, is over for this night ; but 
bot, I tmU-^acerely trust — that of the sweet barmaid } do, sitt 
Sliaa; pray be leated, and let me hare a word with you in season ; 
thank you, but not at such a distance, X^iza— such an inconvenient 
distance ; I say inoomvenient— because — ugh, ugh, I have caught a 
dight oold—- as a trial it came-i>aDd I will receive it at) — that has 
JaUen tot the tame^-ugl^ ugh, ugh — upon my Inuga, and renders it a 
good deal troulidesame to me to speak loud ; — so that the nearer you 
i£t~aod it has afiected my head a little, only with a slight deafness, 
Ihoitgh, which— Were you speaking, my dear P" 

" No air." 

" Tea, so I thonghl^ you were saying something— ^will soon past 

I thought this didogne, on tlie part of U'Slime, too characteristic 
to be lost. I accordingly sttde somewhat neu^r the Snnggery, until I 
got in a position from whence I could see them clearly, without being 
aeen myself. It was (inite evident from the humour, which in spite 
of a demure face, gliut«d from her ey^ that Ellza^s object was t« 
occasion M'Slime to assume his real character, for I could esuly see 
that from time to time she felt very considerable difficult in 
st^presdag her laughter. 

" The deafness, Eliza, I feel particolarly troublesome, though not 
painful i as while Intnsacting business it fo-foices me to sit so v^ 
dose to my clients." He here moved his chtdr nearer hers. 

" But J am not a client, Mr. M'Slime, and you need not draw your 
diair so close to me — there now, that will do." , 

" Yon are, my sweet — sweet girl,— yon are my client — and yon shall 
be mydient — and upon a most important subject — the most important 
«f Allt verily, Eliza, this is a most delicbus cup of refreshment. 



How did 7<(u flavour it — bnt, indeed, if I wei«, u t ham "been, 
before I was graclooBly called and chosen, I wonld have reoonrse to 
a harmlesa gallantry, and uy that this most ambrosial beverage mast 
have caught its sweetnesa fivm jonr lips — ^ita fragrance from yaot 
breath — and its liutre from your eyes — I would say so— if I were as I 
have been—and, indeed, asl am — even yet, fnul, £Iisa, ettU fraO, and 
veiy far, indeed, from perfection — ^but^ still, even as I am I could 
•earcely scruple to relapse a little — yea, only a little, Eliia, for the 
sake of Bach lips — of such eyes — and such a fragrant breath. Alae I 
we are all frail !" 

" But, Mr. M'SIime, I snrely didn't think that jon who stand so 
high in the religions world, and that the people look upon as a saint, 
would talk as yon do." 

"Ah, Eliza, my dear ^1, it is very natural for you in your 
hitherto darkened state to Bay so ; but, sweet Eliza, if yon had your 
privileget, you could understand me. For instanoe, in the in- 
dnlgence of this precions little dialogue with yon, I am only follow- 
ing np a duty that strengthens myself j for, Eliza, my precioBS 
creature, if more light were given to you, you wonld be permitted to 
feel that an occasional lapse is for onr good, by showing ns oar own 
weakness, and how little we can do of ourselves. No — there is 
nothing which gives ns so much confidence and strength as to know 
onr own weakness ; but, my sweet girl, of what use is it for as to know 
it, if we do not feel it ; and why feel it, unless we suffer it for better 
purposes to teach as a practical lesson to humble us?" 

" That's queer doctrine, Mr. H'SIime, and I don't properly under- 
stand it. ■ 

'■ I know you don't, my darling gid ; for it has not been given to 
you, as yet, to onderstand it. Nay, it seems, as it were, a stombling- 
block to you in your present state." 

" Why, do yon think me so very great a sinner, sir ?" 

" Not fay acts, Eliza — and what a soft name is Eliza — soft as a pillow 
of down — bnt by condition. You are exalted now upon pride — not 
personal pride, bnt die pride of position. Ton think yon are incapa- 
ble of error or infirmity, bat yon must be brought down to a sense of 
your own firailty, as it wer^ for it is upon a consciousness of that 
that yoQ must build." 

"That is to say, I must commit sin first, in order to know the 
grace of repentance afterwards." 

" Ton pnt it too strongly, Eliza ; but here is the illustration : — 
Yon know it is said ' there is jor in heaven over one sinoer ibat r^ 

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penteUitinOTetliuiOTBrninetyBiidiiine just men.' And I know many, 
Slin, who go through a long coarse of Tirtnons iniqtDt;, in order 
that their trimnph in the end maj be the greater. I hare myself 
practised it <ai a small waj, and foood it rOfreebing. And now, 
Elica, bring me another cnp of totndy and water, even formj 
stomach's sake ; and Eliza, lay charming girl, put it to those sweet 
lips, that it may catoh the true fragranoa — Christian fivgraoce I wish 
I conld say — for they are fragrant lips — and a sweet ano—a fnll 
tapering aim yon are gifted with. Ah 1 £liza, if yon coold feel as I 
feel — na;^ it was the chair that was onsteady — my heart ia dia- 
dissolring, Eliza. If yon were only a littla more tttdl I my swaet 
girl, we conld feel thia a kind of religions exercise. Ob I these pre- 
cious little frdltiea — these preoioos little fr^ties I 

" Mr. M'Slime will yon exouae me, bat I think yon have got 
enongh, and a little too much liqnor. If yon should be seen going 
home in an unsteady state your character would suffer." 

" Another cup of refreshment, Eliza — but I am not perfeotioa— 
no — ^nor wonld I be perfection. What would life be without these 
precious little frailties — that makes us what we are." 

" With all piety and undher " 

"Who is that?" inquired the mud eridently startled, if not 
affiigbted l^ a strange voice. 

" I join — join yon brother U'Slime, for another cup of refreshment.'' 

" Bob Spaight — brother Bob— I am glad you are here ; Eliaa, my 
darling — my dove— another cup for Bob, and after that we aball aid 
each other home — will render one another Christian and mutnal 

*' Tes," replied Bob, clearing his voice : — 

B«&— "King Junes he pitched his tent* hetween 
Solomon — " There'i nonght bnt care luieTeiT hand, 

Bob—Tbe lines for to rstire, 
SolamoK — la ereiy hour that pasHS, 0, 

Bob-JBat King WllUain threw hli bomb bsllt in, 
Solomon— WhMt ligniflea the life o' man. 

« Many thanks, sweet Eliza — oh I that I could say my fnul EUza 

Intt I shall be able to say so yet, I tntst ; I thatl be able to say so." 

" God forbid," she replied " Thia ii not for you, Mr. M'fflim*— 

., Google 


1 Mrt^nlj Will giv« no more tUa Digtt. But Bob here u a &Touril» 
cf mine. Bob, yau will see Mr. H'Slime home ?" 

" Id all piety uid tmtb, I ehalt see that burning and shining light 
bome," returned Bob t " in the me&n time I will thank 7011 for the 
loan of a lantern 1 the night is one of meet nnchiistlan darkness." 

SoltHnon had now redbi^ his head upon the table as if f<ff sleepi 
which he very probaUy wo^ld have indulged in despite of all oppo- 
sition } hot, jOBt at this nuHUent, his horse, car, and servant moet 
Opportunely arrived, and, with the aid of Bob, sneceeded in getting 
him away, mnah against his own inclination ; for ft would appear by 
his language that be hvl no intention whatsoever of departing, if left 
to himself. 

" I shall not go," said he i "it Is permitted to me to sojourn here 
Uiis night. Where is Eli;^^ ? Oh 1 Bliza, my darling— these pre- 
cious tittle frailties t" 

"Bring the little hypocrite home oat of this,* sud she, with s 
good deal of indignation 1 tm, in tmtb, the worthy si^nt uttered the 
last words in so ^gnificant a voice, iritb snoh a confidential crow, as 
might have thrown ont intimations not quite favourable to her sense 
of propriety on the occasion. He was literally forced ont^ tberefOTe; 
bat not until he had made several efforts to grasp Eliza^ banit, and 
to get his arm around her. 

" She's a sweet creature — a delightful dove ; but too innooeni. 
Oh, Eliza, these precious littiefr^ties I — theeeprecious little frultiea I" 

" Its a shame," said EUca, " and a scandal, to see any man making 
SDch pretensions to religion, in such a state." 

" In alt piety and truth," siud Bob, " I say htfs a burning and • 
aliining light 1 

And so they d^arted very much to the satisfaction of Elixa and 
Boots, who were both obliged to dt tqt nnlil his d^arture, altlioagh 
fatigued with a long day's hard and incessant labour, t also retired 
to my pUkiw, where I lay for a consideralde time reflecting on the 
ocourr^ces of tite night, and the ease with which an ingenious hypo- 
crite may turn tlie forms, but not the spirit of religion, to the worst 
and most ioiquUous purposes." • • • • 

Thus far our friend Ur. Easel, whom we leave to fi^oir up his 
examinations into the stale of the Castle Cumber proper^, and its 

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, hoping that hia ducoTeriea and dndosnrep m»j at 
■ome fatupe day be of seiTue to tlie tenantry on that fine eetotet u 
Ten as to tbe country at large. In the mean time, we b^ oar 
readers (o acofflmpany us to the aceoe of many an act of gross 
eOTmption, where jobs, and jobbing, and selfishness in their ivorst 
diapea, luded by knavery, fraod, bigotry, par^ rancdlir, personal 
hate, and revenge long cherished — where wtive It^alty, and high 
political Protestantism, assuming the name of religitm, and all the 
vther pafsions and prejudices that have been Bufibred to Boom^ the 
gantry so long— Jtave often been in full operation, witboat ohook, 
restnunt, or any wlM^esome responsibility, that might, or could, or 
ought to have protected the property of the people bom rapine, and 
thur persons irom oppreauon. The scene we allude to is the Grand 
Jury Boom of Castle Camber. 



Tern aadzefl had now arrived, and the grand panel of tlie county met 
onoe more to transact their fiscal and criminal business. We omit 
&a grand eatrj of the judges, escorted, as they then were, by a large 
military guard, and the potte conUtatfu of the county, not omitting 
to mentioa a goodly and imposing array of the gentry and squire- 
archy of the imrrwdintp and snrroiiDding districts, many i£ wbom 
were pranked out in all the grandeur c^ their onnge robes. As, 
bowerer, wa are only yet upon our way there, we beg you to direct 
yoor attention to two gentlemen dressed in black, and mounted eaob 
in a peonliar and characteristic nianner. One of tliem is a large, 
tdoated, bat rather handsome, and decidedly aristocratic locking mas^ v 
with a Vermillion face, mounted upon a splendid charger, whose 
blood and action most have been trained to that kind of subdued hot 
el^iant bearing, tJiat would seem to indicate, upon the part of the 
anhnol, a consciousness that he, too, owed a duty to the Church and 



CoDStitution, and had a just rigbt to come wiUtin the oategoiy of * 
■UMUch and lojal Protestant boiw, as being entnuted with the life^ 
virtues, and dignitj o£ no leta a peraon than the Ber. Phineas Lncre 
— all of wUch are now on his back assembled, as thejr always an, 
in t^t reverend genUeman'a precious person. Here we account at 
onoe for the anima^« cautious sobriety of step, and pride and dignity 
of action, together with his devoted attadiment to the Church tod 
Constitution by which he lived, and owing to which he wore a co^ 
quito as sleek, and every whit as black aa bis master's. The gen- 
tleman by whom he appears to be accompanied, much — if we can 
}tidge by their motions— agunst his wiU, seems to be quite aa strongly 
contrasted to him, as the rough undressed hade upon wbich he is 
mooated is to the well-fed and aristocraUc nag that is honoured by 
bearing the Bev. Fhineas Lucre. The hack in question la, never- 
theless, a stout and desperate looking vantunt, with a red, vindictive 
eye, moving, ill-tempered ears, and a tail that seems to be the seat 
^ intellect, if a person is to take its quick and furious whiskings as 
beii^ givm in reply to Mr. Lucre's observationB, or by way of 
corroboration of the truth uttered by the huge and able-bodied 
individoal who ia aatrideof him. Thatindividoalianoother than the 
Bev. Father M'Gabe, who is dressed in a coatand wustcoatof coarse 
Uack broadcloth, somewhat worse for the wear, a pair of black 
breeches, deprived of their original gloes, and a pair <^ boots welt 
greased with honest hog's lard — the &ct bring, that the wonderful 
discovery of Day and Martin had not then come to light. Mr 
M'Cabe has dearly an unsettled and dissatisfied seat) and does not 
sit his horse with the ease and dignity of hia companion. In fact, 
he feels that matters are not proceeding as he could wish, neither 
does the hack at all appear to bear cordiaH^ or nfiection to the Stat« 
which keeps him on Buch ahort commons. They are, by no means, 
either of them, in a state of peace or patience with th6 powers that 
be ; and when the priest, at the conclusion of every Bentenoe> ^ves 
the garron an angry dash of the spuis, as much as to say, was not 
that observation right ? no man could mbtake the venomous spirit in 
which the tail ia whisked, and the bead shaken, in reply. 

It is scarcely necessaiy to say that ueitlier Mr. Lucre nor Mr. 
ICCabe were at bD npon terms of intimacy. Mr. M'Cabe conaidered 
Mr. Lucre aa a wealthy epicure^ fitt and heretical ; whilst Mr. Lucre 
looked npon Father M'Cabe aa vulgar and iddatrous. It was 
impossible, in fact, that with such an opinion of each other) they 
eould for a moment agree in anything, or meet ai men qualified 


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s?^ "-^^ ^^ 

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hj the Tirtnes of tiieir station to disehai^ on an; one duty in coax- 

On the day in qnestion, Mr. Lncre was riding toirardA Cutis 
Cnmber, mih the pious intention of getting Darbj O'Driye's appoint- 
ment to the nnder jsilonhip confirmed. Thia was one motive, bat 
tbere was another still stroi^er, which was^ to have an interview 
with the leading men of the Grand Jnry, for the purpoae of getting 
a new road mn past his Glebe Hoose, in the first place, and, in the 
next, to secure a good job for himself, as a magistrate. At all events, 
he was proceeding towards Castle Cumber, apparentiy engaged in 
the c<Mitemplatiott of some important salgect; bat whether it was the 
new road to his glebe, or the old one to heaven, is beyond oar pene- 
tration to determine. Be this as it may, anch was hb abstraction, 
tJtat he noticed not the Bev. Father M'Cabe, who had ridden for 
some time along with him, until that gentleman thought proper to 
break the ioe of ceremony, and address him. 

" Sir, yoor most obedient,^ said the priest; "excuse my freedom— 
I un the Rev. Mr. M'Cabe, Catholic Curate of Castle Cumber i 
bnt as I reside in the parish it is very possible yon don't luiow me." 

Mr. Lucre felt much hurt at the insiDtiatioo thrown out against 
his long absence (rom the parish, and replied — 

" I do not, sir, in the least regret oar want of intimacy. The 
character of your miiustry, in this parish, is such, that he who can 
congiatnlale ^JTiffwIf on not being acquainted wit^ you has something' 
to boast of. Exonae me, air, bat I beg to assure you, that I am no* 
at all Boti<ntons of the honoor of yonr company." 

"Touching my nmustry," said tl>e priest, "which it pleasea yon to 
condemn, TA have yon to know, that I will teach my people bow to' 
reust oppression so long as I am able to teach them anytiiing. I 
will not bQow them to remain tame drat^ee under bartbens that 
make you, and such as yon, as fat uid proud as Lucifer." 

" I request you will be good enough, mr, to take some other way," 
■ud Mr. Lacre ; " you are a rude and vulgar person witom I neillier 
know nor wish to know. The pike and torch, air, are congenial 
weapons to such a mind as yours ; I do beg yoa will take some other 
way, and not continue to annt^ me any longer." 

" This way, man alive " 

" Man alive 1 To whom do you address such a tenn ?" said Mr. 
Lucre ; " I really have never met so veiy vulgar a peraon ; 1 am 
quite sickened, upon my honour. Man alive 1 1 I trost I shall soon 
gat rid of you*" 

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" This IV17, man eiive," responded the priest, " is us free te me, fa 
Bpite of corrupt jobs or grand jurieB, as it is to 7011 or «ay othftr 
tyrant, whether spiritual or temporaL If there ore turbuIsDca and 
distarbaocea in this parish, it is beoanse bad laws, anjnstly 
administered, dTi?e the people, first, into poverty, and tiuaa into 
resistance. And, sir, you ar« not to tell mo, far I will not bslieve it, 
that a bod law, dishanestly and partially administered, js not to be 
reuated by every legal means." 

"Do yoa eall noon-day murder, midnight a4BUsinatioi), and iocen- 
diarim, legal? Do you call schooling the people into rebellion, and 
familiarising tliem with crime, legal? All this may be allegianoe 
to your Pope, bat it deserrea a halter from the king and laws of 

** The king and laws oS England, sir, have erar been more libeitl 
of haltera to the Irish Catholics, than they have been of either comp 
mon justice or fair play. What do the Catholic people get, or bare 
ever got, from yoa and such as you, in retmTi for tiie Inxniy which 
yoa drav, without thanks, from thear sweat and labonr, but gaolst 
an^ chains, and scoui^iee, and halters? Hanging, and transport^- 
tMHi, trianglef^ and ^rambead verdiots, are admirable means lo con- 
ciliate the Catholic pedple of Ireland." 

"The Ca&olic people of Ireland may thank yon, and such red 
hot intemperate men as yon, for the hangings and transporlationa 
whioh tJta violated laws (^ the oountiy justly awarded tliem." 

"An4 hive yon, sir, who wring the blood and awwt ont of them, 
the audacity to use such language to me? Did not your English 
kings and your English laws make education a crime, and did you 
not then nuMt iflhumanly and cruelly punish us for the oSences which, 
want of education o«c«»oned?" 

" Tes 1 because you made auofa knowledge as you then acquired, 
the yehide, as you are doing now, of spreading abroad disafiection 
against Church and State, and of disturbing the peace of the 

" Because, prou^ parson, when the people become enlightened by 
education, tb^ inaitf, and will insist upon their rights, and refoBO 
to be pressed to death by sneh a bloated and blood-suctung incubus, 
as your Established Church." 

"If Uiis be true, then, upon your own showing, you onght to be 
favonniUe to education among the people ; but ^lat, we know, you 
are not Tbu h«ve no Bchools; and you will not sufler ua, who are 
willing, to educate them for yto." 

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« Certainly not t ira have no notion to alt tamely hy and see you, 
acd snch as yon, inetil your own principles into our flocks. But in 
talUng of eduoatKHii in wbat stale, let me ask you, is yoor own 
ehurch is this blessed year of 1804, with all her wealth and splen- 
dour at her back ? I tell yon, air, in every district wbsre the popa- 
ht&m 1$ equal, we can show two Cathdie sohoola for your one. 
When yoa impute our poverty, sir, as a reluctance to educate our 
people, you utter a libel ag^nst the Catholic priesthood of Ireland^ 
for which yoii deaerre to be prosecuted in a court of jostioe, and 
puled Bnngly to the pillory afterwards." 

"Kailed anngly to the pillory! I never felt myself so much de< 
graded as by this oonversation with you." 

" Sir, the Catholio priesthood have always been at their dufrf at 
the bed of sickness, and sorrow, and death, among the pow and 
afflicted I where you, who live by their hard and slavish labour, have 
paver been known to show your red nose." 

"Bednoao ha ha— dear me; how well bred, how admirably ac- 
complished, and how finely polished! Bed nosel" 

" Faith yon did well to coireot me; it is only a mulberry. Wasn't 
your Irish Establishment in a blessed torpor — dying like a plethoric 
parson after his venison or turtle— until onld Jack Wesley roused 
it? Then, indeed, when yon saw your Aocks running to bams aBd 
hedges after the black caps, and the high-cheeked distnpleB of 
MDOlity and strong dinners, yon yawned, rubbed your eyeS) stroked 
your dewli^s, and waddled off to fight in your own defence against 
the loDg-winded invadSTB of your rounds and eirkuns. Where was 
jam love of eduoaUon before diat shock, my worthy BiblemanP 
Faith, Tm peppering yoal" 

" Sir, if I could have antituptied such very vulgar insdence, 
I would have taken some other way. Why obtrude yooraelf thus 
Qpon me? I trust you have no notion to use personal violence?" 
" Wesley nudged you." 

''Nudged nsl I do not nnderat4uid yonr alang at all, my good ur. 
Tlose who are taken from the ditch to the college, and sent back 
from the cidl^e with the crust of their original prejadiees hardened 
upon them, are not those from whom educated men are to expect re- 
finement or good mannerB." 

*■ Fn»n the ditch I We are taken &om humble life, proud parson, 
to the college; and it is better to enter college from the rimplidty 
of humble life, than to eater the church with the rank savour ol 
ff^hbiaable ^rofiicacy stKmg upon us. Not a bad preparation ftr a 

.., ........Gtioglc 


oarnal esUblidbment, where ffrery temptatkn ia prmented to glnt 
ereij paarion." 

" Tod foi^et, dr, what a STatem ot ftbominatiaii jour church wm 
before the li^t of the Teformation came apDn her; and what a 
mockeij of religicm she u to this daj." 

"Whaterei I may forget, I caonot but remember the mockerj of 
raligioD presented by yonr proud and bloated bishops who roll in 
vedth, indolence, and gensnoJity; robbing the poor, whilst tbcy 
thenudves go to b — I worth hundreds of thousands. I cannot forget 
that your chuch ia a nuu^et for renal and tiHeA ^vee, who are 
booE^t by the minister of the day to uphold his party — that it is a 
carcase thrown to the wotflah sons and brothers of the English and 
Irish aristocracy — and that its bishops and dignitaries exceed in 
pride, violence of temper, and insolence of deportment, any other 
class of persons in society. Sure they hare their chaplains to pray 
for themi bat my soul to glory, those that pray by vxcj will go 
to heareo by proxy — and so ihey ought. Eh — &ith I'm peppering 

"De te^fitivta tutrratur, Dcn't yon lire by praying for others? 
What are your maases?" 

" Fabnla— why a fibula for yonr fisbola, man slive. What is jonr 
niew-&i^;led eroed, but a fabnla &om the beginning?" 

"And are you yourself not a hireling in erery sense of the word? 
Do you not make merduuidiie of the crimeB and ignorances of your 

«Mitke merehandizel This from you, who take away a tenth 
part of the poor man's labour, without the consciousness of even pro- 
fessing his creed." 

" Do yon ever worship the Lord aright, or addreaa him in any 
language which the people can understand?" 

"And do you erer seek salratioD with half the zeal dicplayed 
when yoa lay your keen nostril to the traU of a fresh benefice or 
a fat mitre. Do yon not, moat of yon, think more of your hounds 
and kennels than you do of either yonr churches or your flocks?" 

Ur. Locro at length polled up his horse, and fixing his eyea 
on Fadier M'Cabe, inquired why he should hare fastened upon 
him in so ofiensire a manner t and Ur. M'Cabe, pulling up the 
hack we apoke o^ fixed a pair of fiery orbs on him in return, and 
replied — 

<' I haven't done with yoa yet, my worthy parson. Tou needn't 
eowl, I sayt for if yon bad as many chins upon you as then ara 

THE laiSH AOSMT. tl7 

Mtldes in your creed, I wouldn't be prevented from bringing 
yqn to an account for interfering with mj flock." 

" Bade and wretched mwi, how 'f 

<• By attempting to pervert Darby (yDrive, the bailiff, and seduce 
him o*er to your hererieft." 

"I would bring him over from his idolatiy and auperstition. But 
why do you, sir, tamper with * man named — named — let me Bee-~ 
Bob — Bob Beattj, I thinh, who belongs to my congregation?" 

" Simply because I wish to bring him over from a false church to 
the true one." 

"It appears that because this simple person has been afllicted with 
epikpey, yon have attempted) through some pious joggling or other, 
to eflect his cure — by enjoining him tq not enter a church-door, or 
to eat swine's flesh during his life. Are you not ashamed, sir, of such 
ungodly frauds as this P* 

" Swiit^B fleshl Call it bacon, man alive, like a man. Yes, and 
I tell yon, moreovor, that I have cored him — and, with a blessing, 
shaU cure him better still, if that is imy consolation to you. From 
being a purple Orangeman, I have him now hard at work every day 
at hie Padderheen Partha. But I now caution yoo not to unsettle 
the religious principles of Darby (XDrive, the bailiff." 

"Why, sir, the man has no religious opinion, nor ever had; 
thanks to Mr. M'Cabe." 

"And rm bound to say, that such » thick-headed villain in re- 
ligions matters as Bob Beatty I never met. Gcod knows I had a 
sore handful of him. So now remember my caution, and good bj 
to yon; I think you'll know me again when yon meet mo." 

Lacre gave him a haughty scowl ere the priest tamed off a 
bridle road, but made no other reply — not even by inclining his head 
to him ; but, indeed, it was hardly to be expected that he should. 

Such b the anxiety to snap up a convert in Ireland, it matters not 
from what churchi or to what church, that Hr. Lucre lost no time in 
securing the sppointment of honest Darby to the office of Castle 
Cumber Deputy Gander— an ^ipointmest to which both M'Clutchy 
and M'Slime strongly recommended him; not certiunly from an 
excess of affection towards that simple and worthy man, but fWim a 
misgiving that an important portion of a certun correspondence, ia 
the shape of two letters, was in his poeeesaion, and so far they wen 
prudent ia declining to provoke his enmi^. 

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cAsiut CuMBsa obaud tvnrxoou—A. coMscnimotm BAHakAli-^ 


Wb pass now to the Orand Jury Boom of tbe ootmtjt and truly w 
a snbordinate tribunal for uding the adminiabBtioii of joftic^ it wu 
at the time of which we write, one of the moet anonulous exhibitiona 
that coald be witnessed. It was a king room, about thir^.«ix or 
forty feet in length, by thirty, with a flie place at ea6h end, and ana 
or two at the aides. Above tlie (^imney^ieee was ut ml painting of 
William tiie Third, together with a small broose equestrian statue of 
the same prince, and Another of Geot^ the Third, lliera were 
aome other portnUts of past and present jurors, presented by them- 
selves or their friends. But there was cert^ly one which we caaaot 
omit, although by whom presented, or on wbat occasion, we are wholly 
unable to inform the reader. We are indined to think it must have 
been placed there by some Batirical wag, who wished to ridicule the 
extent to which mere loyalty was carried in those days, and tha 
wartnth of admiration with which its most besotted "^arHVrtationa 
were received. The picture in qQesU<xi was the portrait of a |hous 
hu^man, who was too consclentuns to hang any one but a Fa|M6t. 
Tbey called him Jeiry Giles ; a little squat fellow, with a face like a 
triangle^ a broken nose^ and a pur of misplaced or ill-snatched eye- 
brows, one of them bong nearly an inch higher up the forehead than 
the other. Jerry, it seeins, had his own opioionsi one at which was, that 
there existed no law in the constitution for lunging a ProleatanL He 
said that if he were to hang a Pretaatant felon, he would be foroed to 
consider it in his consoieDoe only another namo for suicide ; and tba^ 
with a blessing, be wonid string up none but such vile wretches as 
were oat of the pale of the constitntion, and conseqoently not entitled 
to any political grace or salvation whatever. And upon the prin* 
ciples of the day, the portr^.of Jerry was nearly as well entitled t« 
be hung among the Grand Jurors as that of any one there. 

Seated about a long table covered with green biUze^ were a nam- 

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lier of men, with papers before dtem ; whilst grooped in different puts 
»f the room where the Tonnger persons, amusing themselves hy tbs 
KccidentA at the last meet— if it happened to be the hnnUng season— 
or the last duel, or the last female victim to the oomtption and pro- 
fligacy of some of those &om whom die pet^le were to expect jostioe, 
and their Famlliea protection. Others were whistUng or humming 
some fsToorite ^ ; and one of them, a poe^ was reading a sqttib 
which he had prepared for the forthonning eleodon. 

" Deaker, come here," said the Foreman j ** ytm are iqi to erery 
tMng. Here is Locre, the parson, wants to have a presentment for 
a new Hne of road mnning throngh lus glebe, or to hEs glebe fbr t 
suppose It is the same thing." 

" Well," replied Deader, " and let Um have it. Isn't be as well 
entitled in a job as any of ns ? What the devil— why not put a few 
feathers in his nest, man P The comity has a broad back." 

" His nest is better feathered than he deaervee. He has two enor- 
mous livings, a good private fortune, and now, indeed, be mutt come 
to saddle faintself upon the county, in the shape of a job I" 

* He has rendered good service, Hr. Hartley," replied another of 
them ; " good service to the government, sir, vritlt every respect for 
your wonderfiil liberality and honesty." 

** What do yon mean, sir ?" asked lb. Hartley, sternly -, " do yon 
throw out any impntatitm against my honour and boneety ?" 

" Ob, Zjord, no — by no means t I have no rdish for year cold lead, 
Mr. Hartley— only that 1 dont think yon stand tlie best t^ianoe in the 
world of being retomed for Castle Camber, sir — that b alL" 

" Hartley," asked another, with a loud laugh, " is it tme that your 
cousin, on brining a message to Fhil M'Clutchy, polled his nose^ and 
kicked him apoiteri&re round tlte nxm ?" 

"Ask his father, Dick," said Hartley, sudUng { <* I bave heard he 
was present, and, of course he knows best." 

" I say, Tidtuie," inqnired the Others *■ is it tme 7" 

" Ay," rotnmed old Deaker, " as (me as the Hose on your fece. That 
prcscious Fhil was a oowardly whelp all his lif&~so was his father. 
D — n you, sirra ; where did yon got yowr cowardice ? Tra sore h 
was not from me ; that is if yoa be mine, which is a rather problenir 
aticol ciiGumstance ; for I take It yoa ore as likely to be the desoeot 
of some rascally tarnkey or hatehman, and be hanged to yon, asinine.'* 

" Is it true, Yalt" persisted the fonner qoerist, tJut young Hartley 
poUed Phil's noser" 

" We have come hero for other puiposei, Dick," said Vol ; " cer- 



Mainly Phil did not wisli to BtriLe the Tonng nun is hit own faooM^ 
«nd had more sense than to riolate Ui« pence in the presence of % 
jnagistnte, and that magistrate bta own father." 

" How ibe devil, did he put his comelher on M'Longhlin'e prettj 
daughter, Yal ?" uked another from a different part of the room." 

" That," said DeakeT) " is the onlj spirited thing I ever knew him 
to manage. Is it trae, Tal, that lie was found in bar bed-room." 

" It b oertainlj tme," replied Yal, with a smile of peculiar mean- 
ing ; " and with ber own coasttit too." 

"ThatfB false, Va],"replied Harlieyj "and yon know it. That 
he was in her room for a couple of minntes ia true ; bnt that he was 
there for any purpose prqndicial to ber honour, that is with her own 
oonsent, ia false. The wbSle thing was a cowardly trick on the part 
«f your son, concocted by the aid of old Poll DooUn, for the pmpQOD 
of injuring the girl's reputation." 

"Ay^" said old Deaker, " I dare say you are right, Hartley, if Poll 
Doolin was in it ; but, d — n her she is dangerous even at a distance, 
if all that* a said of ber be true. I say, Spavin," — that was a nickname 
given to the Foreman, in consequence of a slight halt or lameneea for 
whtcb he was remarkable — " are we not to find bills for BomethiBg 
against Harman, who ia about to be married to that wench 7" 

" What," said Hartley, laughing, " is it on that account ? X think 
if you said so. Duiker, you'd not be very far from the truth." 

" He murdered one of my fellows," said M'Clutchy, " one of the 
staunchest Protestants and loyalest men that ever was in the country ; 
and, what is more, he did it in cold blood." 

" Ton were not present," said Hartley, " and consequently have 
no right to prejndice the minds of tlie jury against him." 

"We shall find bills foridl that," said Spavin; "the interference of 
such fellows in the execution of ibe laws, must be pnt a stop to." 

" Tou are right, Spavin," said Sir William ; if we can't hang him, 
let UB send him acrosa. He had no business to touch the h^ of & 
blood-honod's head. Gad, Hartley, this is pretty justice, iau't itP wliy 
didn't the disloyal rascal stand and let himself be shot, in obedienoe 
to the spirit of the constitution, rather than molest a blood-hound? I 
l«U yon, my good friends, that this method of managing things will 
oring about ita own remedy yet." 

" Oh, Sir William, you and Hartley would run well in a chtk » 
together — both always for the rebels." 
" Whom do you call the rebels P* 
" Why, the Papials. to be sure." 

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" No more rebeta, Moore, than you are," reified Hartley — - 1 find 
a papist as good as another man, if he's as well and as fairly treated." 

"Irwin," stud a large gouty mani wbose legs were wrapped in 
flannel, " of course yoa've heard of Sir William's method of dispen- 
sing justice. Will that too, sir, find its own remedy — ehp ha, ha^ 
ha; d e, it's the most novel thing going.? 

•' No — how is it, Anderson P* 

" Why, if two neighbonre chance to fall out, or hare a qnarrelf 
and if it happens also that theycome to take the law of one another 
as they call it, what does the worthy baronet there do, do yo-i 
imagine ? ' Well, my good fellow,' proceeds our justice, ' you want 
to take the law of this man ?* 

** ' Tea, your booour.* 

« * And you want tO take the law of him,' addressing the other. 

«' I do, the »Bc»L' 

« I -y-gjiy ^^ j^j ggf^ fneoAB, if yon wish to get law you har^ 
eome to the wrmig shop for it — we deal in nothing here but juBtici; ; 
so if yon prefer justice to law, yon shall have it." 

" < Whicbever your honour thinks is beet for us.' 

" ' Very well, then ; are you able to fight this man P 

" ' Ha, ha, is it there you ara. Sir William?" says the fellow 
brightening, 'able, is HI ay, and willing too.' 

" ' And,' says the baronet, addressing the other a^n, ' are you a 
match for him, do you think P ' 

. " ' Say no mor^ Sir William; only it was surely the Lord put the 
words Into your mouth.' 

" ' Bat,' proceeds Sir W, 'mark me, if you don't both abide by 
this battle — if either of you, no matter which is beaten, shall attempt 
to get law elsewhere, upon my honour and sou^ I will prosecute you 
bo^.' . Tlie jqstica being well famished with a ebeaf of cudgels for 
the purpose, selects one for each, brings them quietly to tiie stable 
yard where he lets them fight It out, each having first solemnly 
promised to abide the result." 
- " Is that true, baronet ? 

" Perfectly true," replied Sir William ; " but I fear that like some 
* of your wise and impartial proceedings here, it will soon work its 
own. (Sire, The bnsitieas has increased so damnably — this dispen* 
satioD of justice I mean — on my hands, that my stable yard resembles 
a fires court rather than anyUiing else I know. The method har- 
monises with their habits so beautifully, that if there is an angiy 
word between tbem it is only <d — n you, are you for Sir W.?" 'Tea, 

M TALSimirE h'cldtcrt, 

yon villain, step Ont.* They Bccordingly come, ftnd u they touch 
their hata, I aak, well, my good fellowa, what do you waDt now 7 
'Not law, Sir WUliaiD, bnt jnstice — the cudgels, plane yonr hononr.' 
In the beginning I was in the habit of making them ratals the canse 
of qnarrel first, and then light it ont aAerwards, but experience soon 
tanght me that all this was a mere waste of time. la general now, 
I pass all that by ; the complunanta have tbeir comfortaUe fight, aa 
they say, and go home perfectly satisfied." 

" Bere, yon secretary, what the devil an yon at there ? Why 

d e, it wasn't to toss half crowns with that rascal of a treasnrei' 

yon came here, sir ; let ns get through the bustness, aild then yo» 
nay both toss off to the deril, where youll go at last." 

" Why," said the secretai?, " I placed the papers all tixsnged in 
proper order before yon." 

" Yea, air ; I suppose yon did ; but who the devft Ma keep any 
thing or any body in (nder, in snch a Babel as this ? Beeror, ru 
thank yon to postpone the singing of yonr sqnlb for tbe Eleotlim \ ixt 
take to the street when onr busineas is over, and gire li to the crowd." 

" You be d d, Spavin," replied Beevor } « ni finish It, if the 

devil was at the baok door." 

" Darcy," said Deaker, addreaaing a tiiin, nd'faced maa bedde 
him, "I .saw a pretty bit of goods in Castle Cumber market on 

"TTliy, Deaker," replied the other, "is it possibly that with one 
foot and m<tfe than half your body in the grave, and your shadow in 
b — ^1, yon sinner, you have not yet given np your profligacy ?* 

"Eat, drink, and be merry, Tom, for to-morrow we die; bnt abOnt 
this pretty tnt of goods— I tried to priee her, bat it would'nt do \ and 
when I pressed hard, what do yon think of the little tit, but put 
herself nnder the protectagn of old Priest Roche, and told him I h«i 
insulted her." 

•* Who is she, Deaker ?* inquired a yoong fdlow, with « good deal 
of liberdne interest 

" Ah, Boh," replied Deaker, laughing ; " there yon are, one of the 
holy triad. Here> Sannet — did yon ever lieu what Had Jollyblock, 
their fother, the drinking parson <^ Uount Carnal, as some one 
ehristetaed his residence, said of his three «»»? — and that chap 
therms one of them." 

"No; let tu hear It" 

« < Dan,' B^ the ftther, q>eaklng of the eldest, <wonld eat the 
devil ; Jack,' the oecond, ' would drink the devUi and Bol^* thh chap 

TiiE ntisn AGKtT. au 

iMre, ' would both eat faim and drink him, m tiie first plaMi and out- 
wit him afterwards-' That's Bob> the youngeat — he there witli a lip 
like a diopsical saoaage. He has sent him here to pick up a litUt 
boneat;, and much loytdty." 

"And a great deal of mon^tj," levied Bob, laughing^ "firou 
Deakar the Tirtaons." 

" No, no," replied Deaker j " jou need never leave your Bererend 
iatlier's wing for that." 

" Deaker, do jon fleece the poor as ma«h as ever ? replied Bob. 
« Ah, yon are another sweet Agent, as times go. Do yon tonch them 
at the renewals aa'nsnal?' 

" Egad, Bob^ I was very good at that i but there's an nonuUrimo- 
nial son of mine, Yal tlw Viiltnre,r there, and d— mes when I look 
back upon my life, and oMupare it with hia, it's enough to make ma 
repent of my hnmanity, to tbink of the opportiuutiea I have ne- 

"Gentlemen," observed Hartley, "it atrikes me, that no matter 
wliat the mnldplioi^ of other virtues we possess there is eomehow 
nothing Uke a anperabundanoe of shame amoi^ us ; we ai^ear to 
glory in our vices." 

- " Why confoond it, Hartley," replied Deaker, " whare's the nsa of 
fiMintnlng what We do not uid cannot Csel P 'Would you have me 

preach honesty, who am as d d a rogue as there is here? Indeed, 

with the exception of that whelp of mine, I believe the greatest — 
but that fellow's my master." 

" Nobody can quarrel with your oasdour, Deaker, because it's all 
at your own expense," stud the treasurer. 

"EgaA, and here it is at yours, GilbnrBe; with the exertion 
always of myself and my son, yon are the deepest rogue bore — and 
I am very much Afraid that your securities w.ill be of my opinion 
when it is too late.* He laughed heartily at this ; and then, as usual, 
to(^ to whistling his favourite tune of the Boyne Water. 

Our readers may perceive that there was among them an open 
bardy scorn not only of all shame^ but of the very fbrms of common 
decency and self-respect. The feelingly the habits, the practices, the 
distribution of jobs and of jobbings, the exercise of petty authority, 
par^ spirit, and personal resentment, all went the same way, and 
took the same bent ; becaose, in point of fact, there was in this little 
assembly of villi^ tyrants, no such thing as an opposition — for three 
or four were nothing — no balance of feeling— no division of opinion— 
pnd consequently no check upon tine donUe profligacy of praetioa 



and priOciple, whicti vent' forward nnder circaingtalices where them 
existed a complete seuM of security, and an attei absence of all re- 

" Gentlemen, we aie losing a great deal of time nnneoesaarilj " 
oheerred K'dntchjri " let ns first get tbroogh the bntinees, and after- 
warda we will be more at leisure for this trilling. The ImIIb' fot 
Barman km not jet found." 

■* Not found," replied Spavin, " why how soft 70a are, T^." 

"Why they are not," reiterated Val. 
■ « And why are they not ?" . 

"Ask Counsellor Browbeater, the hard faced barrlsler, that has 
the right ef Back Trot in the Castle,' and he will tell you." 

" We fiU know that rery well, Val, no thanks to your squeamiah- 
nesB," obMrved Deaker ; " the truth is, he did »ot wish to let hn 
Out for'a reaaoQ be has," he added, winkiwg vt the rest. 

"Let ns hear the calendar," said Hartley, " and get through thQ 
ibusinesff as quickly as we can, aecietary." 

** la that Browbeater" asked Sir William, " who was engaged in 

the spy system a little before I returned from England — a d d 

scandalona transactian." 

** The spy system, Sir William, is a very useful one to gorern- 
ineut," replied Tal, " and they would be derilish fools if they did ttot 
«ncotcrage it" 

' ' " That may be yoirr opinion, Mr. M*CInlohy," said Sir WlUfon^ 
"and your practice, for aught I know ; but, permit me to say, that it 
-is not the <^dnioD of a gentleman,- a num of honour, nor of any honest 
man, however hnmtde." 

**! perfectly HgKii with yon. Sir WiHiam," said Hartley, «and I 
despise the government which can stocp to sudidiscreditaUe treacheiT^ 
for it is nothing else. The government that couM adept sndi a tool 
as this Browbeater, would not scmple to violate the sancUty either «f 
private life ur public confidence, if it suited their interest—nay, I 
question whether theiy would not be guilty of felony itself, and ep«i 
the very letters in the post office, which are placed there under the 
sacred seal of puUic futb. However, never mind g proceed witb the 

"Here is the case of some of your wrec&ers, M'CIutohy, chained 
here with illegally, maliciously, and violently pulling down several 
houses in the village of Ciokaniska — assaultiug and maltreadng the 
nnofi^nding iobabitants." 

*'Halt there a moment^" said Talj '.'rtibtila, every. nan^ti the laid 



inhablUDts, which i caii prove. My men, who are remv-kable for 
Oteix FroteetaDtism and loyalty, when apon private infoimatjon— " 

*'Hore of the spy system," aud Hartley, smiltng- 
' oHr.Hartiey,jonmayemile,tntttrathiatnith,''repT!edVal; "We 
bad [Hivab) information that Uiey had arms and rebellious papers, unit 
ihe latter we have got nnder the thatoh of their catHna." 

*<;BiTate infmnation I— «till more of the spy system," lepeated 
Hartley smiling again. 

"Bat not the arms?" asked Sk William. 

"No, Sir William, not the arms t Uie rebda were too quck for ns 

"Then, they expected yon it seems," observed Hartley j "and. If 
•0, when talcing away the arms, I am anxions to know why th^ 
■boold have been soeh fools as to ksTe the papers behind them." 

"I im Bot here to •eeonnt for their eondoct, Bir,** replied Tal^ 
" bat to state the facta aa they ocenrred — they may, for instance, not 
bare bad time to bring them. It is not a month, for instance, anoe 
niy follows' in Still honting— and talking of that Hr. Hartley, will 
yon allow me to send yon a couple of kegs of eoA staff as is not to 
be had on every hill head ; I offer it from pnie good will, for I really 
vegret that there should be any wast of cordiality between our familcs." 

"Our fomilies," aeked Hartley, with a look of surprize and indig- 
nation," our families, sir 1 what do yoa mean ?" 

"Oh, damn it, Hartley, don't explode} I mean nothing offensive 
between ti»~then, diop|dng tbe fomilies," said Val fawningly, for he 
saw the other's nostril begin todilat^— 

'*And, you cowardly hound, why should you drop the families," 
inquired Deaker, taking fire ; " do you forget, Sirra, who your father 

« And do yon forget, Sirro," resumed Hartley, "who your mother 

"Damn it," replied Val, still with fawning good humour, "how am- 
X accountable for thdr conduct before I had exigence ? I neither 
made tkem as they were, nor as they are." 

" llien have the modesty,* said Hartley, " to forbear any EkUusion 
to them, especial^ in the way of coKparison.* 

" For one of them. Hartley, I reply," said Deaker, " that he is of a 
better family than yourself) and don't imagine, my worthy fellow, 
that however you may brow beat others, you will be permitted to ' 
bully or brow beat me. I say, sir, there is better Mood in my Teiot 
than ever ran througli yours." 

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" I b&d no intention of bonding ot brow bMting any man her^' 
repUed Hartley, "mnoli leas one wbooe age and rirtaea most prcTOit 

*'Not from meeting yoa lik« a man," said Deaker ; " old aa I am, K 
can yet stand my grodnd. ot if not, d—- d me, I oan tie a stake to 
my boUom, and yon may take that as a proof that I won't mn away." 

" Nobody guapecta you for thal^" said tlie other. *' Out of the long 
catalogae of human rirtnes, conrage is the only one left yon, ts in- 
deed, you ever had — ^imles^ indeed, it be the shameless and diabolical 
honesty of glorying in your own Tioes." 

" Why, Hartley," replied Deaker, " you forget that yon had more 
vices, and hammers, too, in yonr family, and more hrasa, than ever I 
or mine ooold boast of. If the menory of that snooesBfol M tinkeri 
yonr gnndfather, bad not passed out of yonr mind, you would make 
no allnsioo to vices or Eorews, and take care, my good bot-tvained 
young felloitr that yon don't die in yonr funUy trade, and coma to 
the pnQey yet." 

Hartley, who was hasty, bat exceedingly good natnred, although 
oerUunly a noted duellist, now burst out into a hearty lan^ as did 
dioat of the reek 

"Deaker," said he, " there is no use in being angry with you, n<^ 
in being ashamed that my fortone was created Ifj indnstry and 
honeaty, for both of which Tirtnes I have reason heartily to thank my 
good old grandfather, tiie hardware man, as you have for thanking 
the sire f£ your father, the worthy tailor, who had the honour of 
being ^ipointed one of Peg Nicholson's knights, ha, ha, ha 1" 

The laughter now became general and excessive } but not one of 
tbem e^oyed, or seemed, at least, to enjoy it with more good hmnoar 
than Tal; who^ indeed, was never known to exhibit any want of 
temper to his equala during his U£e. 

" WeO," said he, " ha, ha, ha 1 now that that breeze has blown over 
— about the poteen, Hartley ?" 

« Thanks, Vs2; but no poteen, if you please." 

"llien, gentlemen," said Tai, "to resume business 1 1 wasaOnding 
to the seianre of a Still about a month ago near Drum Dhn, where 
the parties just had time to secure the Still itself, but wer« forced to- 
leave the head and worm behind them ; now, that I give as a fair 
illustration of our getting the papers, and missing the aims. Besides," 
said he^ in a wheedling and confidential tone, addressed to a diqoe o( 
his friends, the jobbers, whom be joined at the lower end of the 
room, "you are all aware that my fellows are staunch Orangemen* 

THE IBI8II,1G£NT. . 3-9 

•vai7 (HIS of them, and the gorenunent iUolf feela, for I Iuitq venema. 
to know it, that it is not either politie or prudent to check the spirit 
which ia now ohroftd among them ; eo fu from thad I con tell you it 
is expeotttd that we should stimulate and increase it, until the times 
ohaa^ie. The hills against these men wufit, therefore, be thrown out," 

" Fll agttoe to that," said a leading man of his own party, ■' only on 
one oonditioii. Thero are three of my own tenants. Papists to be 
ame, in for distilling poteen. Now, we must have them out, Val, for 
one good turn deserves another." 

" But why ?" inqured Val and his friends. 

" Why, simply, because the poor fellows were distiUing for myself" 
he replied ; ** all the apparatus were min^ and I can't think of allow- 
ing tiiem to be tnuosported for my own act." 

" Very well, then ; a bargain be it," said Val, " so oat they ga" 

Whilst every man was thos working, either for bis fneodq or 
agunst his enemies, er not onfrequentilf both, Hartley, who, in p3U)t 
of fiict> UH always andona to do as much good as be cou^ addressed 
Sir William ■ — 

"Hare you no friends in difficulty, ^ William, or who require 
your advocacy now ? I see the jobbers are hard at work. Soaaa 
wiH-king heaven and earth to wreak the vengance of law t^ton their 
teentiee t others quite as anzioaB to tom aside justice from their 

" £h 1 wha^B that?" sud Sir William, startiog upj "come. Hartley, 
yon art right { there are four of my tenaata in for a fray — the 
K'Ca£Fries, and the poor devils stand no chance with such a jury as 
^y will have. I hear thera named below there — ao let us join the 
jobbers as you say, and see if we cannot get the Bills thrown out." 

» Very well," said Vol, as they approached him, " the U'Cafiries go 

" Sir William, excuse me," swd Hartley ; " wiQ you allow nte to 
interfere, in the first instance ?" 

" My dear fellow, certainly, with great plaaswe, and I shall 4d 
you as lar as I can." 

" Val," said Hartley, in that kind of famiUar tone which he knew 
would go far with such a man as U'Clutchy, and which was ia 
soch accordance with his owa natural good humour — " Val, my good 
fellow, and the best man of business here, by the way, notwitbstun'l' 
ing the poteen affiiir, I want you to stand my friend and also Sir 
William's here-' 

" How is that, HartUty ?" 

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« There are four men fn firom die Hoonbdn Bar, nuned H'Cafitey. 
Kov we want to hare t)>e Bills agunst Uiem Ignond ; and aimplf 
for a pldn reason — at this season of the year, anj lengthy imprisiHi- 
ment wonld rain them. It wts n faction fight or something of that 
lund, and of eonrae there is no feeling of ft religjons or party natnre 
in it. Am I not right, Sir William r" 

" Perfectly ; the thing took plaoe daring my aheence in England 
for the last few months. Had I been at home, the matter would have 
been peaceably decided with cndgels in my own stable-yard." 

" Yes," obeerred Val, " but it appears there waa a man's life In 

" Tes, bat sir, his life is now out of danger." 

" Well, but does not this," rejoined Val, in bis moet seriooa mood, 
"look very like obatrncting the coarse of jostice?* 

"Why, you d d scoandrel," said the Baronet, "what, in nine- 
teen casea out of twenty, is done at every saaizea where matters 
connected with religion or politics are concerned, that onght not to 
be called obetmcting the conrss of justice ?" 

** We shall Tetnm trne Bills, Sir William ; and tjiM is tlie only 
reply Thave to nuke, except to thank you for your courtesy." 

" Hr. H'Clutehy," said Hartley, " I know your good sense and 
forbearance, both of which are so creditable to you. These poor 
fellows will be rained, for both you and I know th« kind c^jnry that 
is to try them." 

"An honest jury, Mr. Hartley," sud M*dutchy, who was now 
begining to feel a little of his power — " an honest jury, Mr. Hanky." 

" I give you leave to say so, Val ; but, in the mean time, I will 
accept one farour from yon, if you grant me two." 

" How is that, sir?" asked Vai 

" Send me the poteen yon spoke of, and ignore the Bills agtunst 
these M'Caflreya." 

"No, sir," replied Ttd, looking with his own peculiar beetle- 
browed smile at Sir WUlhun, *■ I shall not j for by G — , we will find 
trae Bills agunst the four M'Cafireys. We might do something fdr 
humanly, Mr. Hartley ; but we are not to be made fode of befwe 
our own faces.* 

" I do not understand yon," replied Hartley. 

" He is nothiDg but a scoundrel, as I said," returned Sir William 
" that is all i a low-born scoundrel ; and it is a disgrace to see soeb a 
fellow's name upon any Grand Jury list" 

<* Hartley," replied Spavin, " wn do not wish to refuse either Sir 


'WHliain or 70a anch & nutter as this ; but the fact is, IfClutchj is 
right. This is at bottom a party matter— a political matter, aad you 
know it is." 

"No, rar; on tn; own part and on Sir William's I disdaim aaj 
snch knowledge." 

" Ton know, Hartley, you are canvassing the conn^." 

" Tes^ but what has that 10 do with these men or their a&ira ?* 

"What? Why yon know if we ignore the Bills against them, they 
will be ont and ready to vote for you at the forthcoming Election.* 

Hartley looked at him with enrprize, bnt said nothing. 

'•Now," he proceeded, "ni tell yon what we will do.' Ifyouand 
Sir William pledge your words, as men of honour, that you will not 
accept the votes of these men, the matter you wish sball be managed." 

Sir WHliam started to hia feet. 

" €^reat God," said he, " is it not monstrous that an oath of secrecy 
dtonld bind ns to conceal these iniquities I" 

" It is monstrous, Sir William," replied his &iend j " I do betieTa 
there is not snch a scene of shameless and hardened corriiptioD on 
earth, as a Grand Jnry Eoom at the presoit day." 

This, howerer, they said rather aside to esch other. 

** No, sir,''replied Hartley to the last proposal, " neither I nor Sir 
William shall enter into any such shameful compromise. I fek 
perfectly satisfied of the slight chance of justice which these poor 
men had, and will have from a jury so composed sa theii's I know 
will be ; and that was the reason why I did not hesitate to try, if I 
could, with any effect save them from what I now perceive is designed 
for them — a. political punishment independent of crime.'* 

" Never mind," siud Sir William, taking him aside, " never mind. 
Hartley ; we will be able to defeat them yet. I shall send for the 
prosecuting parties } get them to withdraw proceedings, and imme>- 
diately fight it out in the lawn or stable yard." 

After a great deal of similar squabbling and negociation, the gentle> 
men at length got throagh the criminal calendar for the connty, and 
with stJIl more Btsrtling honesty and disinterestedness^ entered upon 
the transactions of its fiscal business. Deaker whenever he took 
no part in the discussions that accompanied the settlement of each 
question, eat reading a newspaper to the air of the Boyne Water, 
which he whistled from habit in a low manner that was scarcely 
audibly, unless to some one who felt anxious to derive amusement, 
as several did, from the originality of bis performance. 

"Gentlemen," said the scci'Ctary, " here is a list of the present- 

, .......Google 


nentB. The first ia— -For two miles and w, qnuter of a new rocd, 
mnning from Qoorge Gssderwell'g hotue t^ Ute Crookod C<HDmoii8, 
out along Pat Donnellan'B litUa farm of tbe Stripe, throngb which it 
runs hingitadinally ; then across Jemmy Teagoe'a mwdow, over the 
Unllin Bom, then throngh Widow Doraa's garden, biaeoting Darl^ 
M'Lorrinan'a three a«re field, sAvwarda entering the Glebe, and 
paaaing close to the lodge of tbe B«v, Fbuieas Lucre's avenae." 

" Im there an; i^tpositioD to this ?" inquired the chainnan. 

" Bead the nex^" said M'ClutohT, " and tJiyn we Bhaii be the better 
able to see." 

No. 2. " For four mika of road o(»nniencing at the Ban Ard river, 
which it crosaes, rqnning through Frank Fagan's croft, al<mg Bogw^a 
TowP) over Tom Uagill's Long-ehot meadow, across the Sail; Slnm^ 
up Davy Aiken's Hiseiy-meerin, bj Farra Bakkan's haggard, up the 
Domb Hill, into Lttcky iMnrfe Patch, and itom that right ahead to 
Constitution Cottage, the residence of Valentine M'Clutchj Est}., 
within two hundred yards of which it joins the high road to Caalle 

" Now the question is," nid Phil, " can both these be passed 
during this term ?" 

" Val," replied young Jollyblock, " if ever a man waa afiiicted 
with modesty and disinterednesa you are he; and well becomes me 
the panoD, too, in his share of the job) but it's all right, gentlemen. 
Work away, I say. The Parson-magistrate, and the Agent-grand- 
juror hare act us an excellent example— ha— ha~ba. Deaker, drop 
whistling the Boyne Wal^ there, and see what's going on here. 

"No," said Deaker, " there never was enah as ur composed as the 
Boyne Water; and my only prayer is, that I may die whistling it. 
Damn it, Jollyblock, unless a man is a good Frotostant he's bad for 

"But how the devil, Deaker, can you call yourself a good Pro- 
testant, when you believe in nothing?" 

" Why,* said Deaker, *■ I believe that a certain set of political 
opinions are neoeaaary for oar safety and welfare in (Am world; and 
I believe that these are to be found . in the church, and that it is 
good Protestantism to abide by them i yes, and by the church too, 
80 long Ds she teaches nothing but politics, as she docs, and acts up 
to them." 

"And does your Uaih stop there F" 

" Uow could it go farther, with tbe lives of such meo as your 
Aither and Lucre staring mc in the face ? I'recepI, Dick, ifi of little 

TH£ miaU AG£Nb 33] 

vstne when example u against it. For isstanoe, wbere la the use of 
SUD preacfaing np piety and religion, when their ovn comjuot ts » 
libel Dpoa their doctriae P Suppose, now, there are two nMds— and 
<ti8 said there are; No. 1, leading to an imaginary n^ion placed 
(dMvet No. 2, to another imaginary region, placed below— very 
good: the parson aajt to yon and me, do to and to, and take the No. 
1 mad; bnt, in the meantime, he does himself the very reverse of 
this to and to, and takes the No. 2 road.^ Now which are we to 
reqtect most, bis advice or his example ?" 

•'Let tisgetoo," said Spavin, " perhaps Uiere are others whose 
eluma are as modest and disinterested; we shan't say anything 
about being as well founded. You, secretaiy fellow, read away." 

" Before you go any farthw," said a droU-hxAing person named 
H'Small, "yon most pass, me a bridge over Lumlay's Leap. Our 
party voted about thir^ miles of roads to repair tkorovgblt/, and 
yon know that although yoa only veneered tbem, we said nothing." 

" But," replied Val, " who ever beard of a bridge without water ; 
and I know there's not a stream within three miles of you." 

"Never mind that," replied M'Small, "let me have the bridge 
first, aad we'll see what can be done about the water afterwards. If- 
Qod in bis mercy would send a wet winter next season, wso Knows 
but we might present for a new river at the January assises." 

" Too must have it," said Deaker, " give M'Small the bridge, and, 
as he says, we^ sea afterwards what can be done for a river for it." 

"H'SmoU," said Hartley, "what if you'd get a presentment for a 
couple of mountain waterspouts ; who knows but it might answer 
the purpose?" 

"Tm afnud," said M'Small, wbo^ by the way, was a good deal 
of a humonrist, " I fear, Hartky, that the jurisdiction of the grand 
panel wonld scarcely reach so high. In the mea n time I shall think* 
of it." 

The bridge, however, was not only passed, but built, and actually 
stands to tliis day, an undeniable monument of the frugality and 
honesty of grand jurors, and the affection which they were then 
capable of bearing to each otlier, when their interests happeoed to 
be at stake, which was just four times in the year. 

In the mean time, the tumultuous battle of jobs, in all its noise, 
recriminiUifHi, and jangle of conflicting interests, and incredible 
selfishness commenced. There were strong mutual objections to pass 
the roads to Mr. Lucre and M'Clutchy, and a regular conflict between 
their respcolive partisanH accordingly took place. M'Clutchy's party 



were Kbn^utel; shocked at tlie grossnees and impiet7 of Bucli b mtd 
as Mr. Lucre, a person of rach great wealtb, an abeentee, a non- 
resident Bector, dipping his hand in the a&in (^ the oountj for the 
sake ttf a joh. 

His par^, for he had a Strong oneidvelt upon his rights as a CinI 
ofllcer, a magistrate, and jnstioe of qnonun — upon his steriing prin- 
ciple as a loyal Frotoatantr who had rendered very important serricea 
to the Chnpch and the Grovemment. It was such as he, tibey eaiS, 
who BDpported the true dignity and respectshilitj of Protestaatisni, 
and it wonld be a scandal to refuse him a road to his glebe. Deaker 
groaned several times during this enli^vun, and repeated his &vi>urite 
text — let us eat, drink, and be merry, ftr to-mOTTOw we die ; but 
whether its application was designed for Lucre or himself, was not 
very eaqp— perhaps we should rather say difficult, to determine. 

" That is all very true," replied TaFs party ; ** but in the mean 
time, it would be quite as creditable for him to pay some attention U> 
the spiritual interests of his parish, and the eoodidon of its tottering 
old chnrch, as to be innlcting the county for a job." 

*' What can you know about his charcV inquired Spavin, " wlio 
have never been seen in it, except on last Easter Monday, when you 
were candidate for the church-wardenstitp ? M'Clutchy," he added, 
" we aQ know you are a Protestant of your father's colour ; it's the best 
Frotestastism that puts most into your pocket." 

" And on what other principle is Lucre himself now proceeding,- 
or has ever proceeded?" replied Val's friends — for Yal himself had 
always a wholesome repugnance to pereonsl discussion. 

In fact, one would have imagined, on hearing Yal's party declaim- 
ing against the selfishness of Lucre, that they themselves entertained 
a mofit virtuous horror agtunst jobs and cormption <tf all kind^ and' 
had within them an actual bona Jlde regard fox religion, in all its 
puri^, spiritual beauty, and truth ; whilst on the contrary, the 
Lucreiles, who certainly had the worst cause, seemed to think that 
U'Clutchy in preferring bis own corruption to that of the parson, 
was guil^ of a complete desertion of that sterling and mutual!/ 
concessive Protestant feeling 'which they considered to constitute its 
highest principle, and absolutely to merge into the manifestation oT 
something inimical to a Protestant government. 

At length it was suggested by him of the bridge that in order to 
meet the wishes of two such excellent men, and each admirable 
representatives of pure Protestant virtue and spirit, it would be best 
to pass both presentments (»i the present occasion, and dnnp or 


]>03tpoDe aomfi of the minor ones antil next term — a suggestion 
which was eagerlj' received b; both parties, in as mnch as it satisfied 
the rapacity of each, without giving m victory to either. This, how< 
ever, was for from terminating either tlie business or tbe debates that 
arose ont of the minor conflictii^ interests of the jotots. A good 
■leal of han^g fire there was also, bat given and retomed in k bettet 
Gpirit, between Val'a friends and Lucre's. 

" Why doesn't Lncre," said tlie former, " afford ns a little more 
of his company in the parish r" 

" Ah," replied the Lncreites, " we sappose if he gave you more of 
his Tension and claret, he would experience less of yonr opposition." 

** I really ant afraid to go to chnrch," said Val, who now that the 
Storm had passed, resumed hia usual insinuating habit of light 
sarcasm ; " I am afrud to go, lest that crazy old church, which 
really, between ourselves — I speak of course in a friendly way now 
-^ in a most shameful and dangerons state, sbould fall upon me." 

"I did not think," said U'Small, **that yon had snch a strong 
sense td your own deserts left, Tal P — I have some btqpes of you 

"Ah," said Vti, "I fear that on your way to heaven, if yon meet 
a difficulty, yon will not be likely to find a grand jury to build 
a bridge lor you across it." 

"I perfectly agme with yon," replied M'SmaD;" the face of a 
grand juror will be a novel a^ht in that direction." 

"And in the other direction," observed Hartley, "no bridges will 
be wonted." 
" Why so ?' said M'Small. 

"Because," he replied, "there will be snch an absence of water 
as will render them onneceasary." 

•'Ay," retorted another, "but as there will bo plenty of grand 
jurors, we may do then as we did now — build the bridge without the 
water, and trouble oursdves no further with the consequences." 

After much more conversation, partly oa business, and partly on 
desiilttny b^pics, the quarrellingi^ and bickerings, and all the noisy 
enmities of that corrupt little world that is eontuned within— we 
shonld rather say, that tnu contained witiiin the vails of a grand jury- 
room— ceased; and, with the exception of one or two small matters 
of no owuequence, everything was settled, but not so as to give 
general satisfaction ; for there still remained a considerable number 
of grumblers, whose objects had been either (HKupIelely lost la greater 
corruption, or set aside for the prasonb 

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"Here's ttnotlier matter," «aid Spavin, "which we had better 
settle at once. A man liere named (fJMve — ^Dnfej O^rive — is to 
be appointed to the under^^lerahip ; he is strongly reoommenaed, 
by Hr. Lucr^ as s man that haa renonnced Fopery." 

" That's enough. Spavin," said Hartley, " tiai, 1 suppose, com- 
prises all the virtues necesesiy for an nnder-gaoler, at all events." 

" Ton know him, M'Clulchj," said one or two of them. 

"Hell make as good on under-gaoler," replied Val, ** as there will 
be in Europe. Appoint him, gentlemen; yon will get no sudi man." 

«ADd that is just," said Sir William aside to Hartley, "all that 
VaTs recommentUtion is good for." 

And thus chised as much as we feel necessary to deseribe <^ that 
eztnordinary scene — a grand jury'itXKii in the year 1804) or there- 




Cokrioah's PBOTKSTAirr wio— thll and solomom in a fit 


On single week in the progress of Uoe, after t^ exhibition last 
described, had wonderfully advanced the catastrophe of our rimple 
and uncomplicated namttive. Harman, very much to the morti- 
fication of iifj^utdij, was acquitted, the evidence being not only in 
his favour, but actually of such a character, as to prove clearly thai 
his trial was merely one of those diahmost stretches of political 
vengeance which characterized the times. On craning out, however, 
he found the a&irs of the firm in a state of bankruptcy and ruin. 
The insidioas paragra^ in the papeiB, masked with compassion, 
and " a hope that the aflairs o( this very respectable flim— which 
was hitherto supposed to be a solvent me^would, still, be wouiid op 
in a way, they trusted, somewhat more Satisfactoiy than was given 
out by their enemiea." Nor was this the worst, so far as Harman. 
himself was concerned. The impreBsioo of Uary M'LooghUn's 
perfidy had been BOW so thoronghlf stamped into his lieart, that ba 

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aeither could, nor would IJHten to any attempt, upon the part of their 
nuttiil Mesde, at her vindication. This last stroke of anguish was 
owing, also, to Fhifs diabolioal ingenuity. Harman, on reflecting 
day after day, and hour hj Iwta, npon the occurrenee, and comparing 
it with her conduct and oonfndon on previous occasions, felt, as ve 
before B^d, atrongi;' inclined to beHeve ber guilty. He determined, 
however, not to rest here, hut to sift the matter to the bottom. Hs 
accordingly heard from bis oousia, and tnm sereral odiers, while in 
[viaon, such details of the partienlars, and snch an authentic list of 
the persons who were present — many of whom, owing to the Ingenious 
mal^pai(7 of Poll Doolin, were fHendly and favonraUe to the family 
-^hftt he privRiely sent for them, and, on ctmipuing the narratives 
one with the other, he found the harmony among them so strong, thalf 
Ika gftve np all thoughts of her, save such as recurred involuntarily 
to his mind with indignation and anguish. In addition to his other 
mortiflcations, it happened that the second day after his release from 
impriaoninent was what the agents call " Gale day ;" that is, the day 
npon which they get into their chair of state, as it were, and In all 
tiie Insolence of office receive their rents, and give a general audience 
to tlie tenantry. Phil, indeed, even more than the father, looked , 
forward to these days with an exultation of soul, and a consdonsness 
ot authority, that fully lepiud him for all the Insults, disasters, and 
twealungs of the nose, wMch he was forced to enfi^ during the whole 
year besides. In troth, nothing could equal, mucli less surpass, the 
PIstolian spirit by which this lion-hearted gentleman was then 
animated. His frown, swagger, bluster, the authoritative shakings 
<tf his head, the annihilating ferocity of his look, and the inflated 
pomp of manner with which he addressed them, and " damned his 
honomr," were aU inimitable in their way. The fatiier was more 
cautions and witliin bounds, simply because he had more sense, and 
knew the world better ; but, at the same time, it was easy to see by 
Ihs manner, that In spite of aU his efforts at unpartiality a»d justice, 
be possessed the poison as well as the wisdom of the serpent, hut not 
one atom of tiie harmlessness of the dove. At another table, a little 
to tlM right of M'Clntdiy, sat H'Slime, ready to take his appropriate 
part In the proceedings of the day, and prepared, whilst engaged in 
the task of seeing that everything was done according to law, to 
throw in •* a w<n4 In season," touching the interests of the gospel. 

At length eleven o^dock arrived, and Arand Tal, Phil, our oM 
friend Darby, who had not yet entered npon the duties of his office, 
together with one or two other understrappers, all ready for b 



Tlie tiro principal characters were Barronqded hj bools, renlala 
receipti^ and ever; other document necessary and usual upon ancb 
occasions. The daj woa wet and cold, and b; do means in the spirit 
of the season ; but we know not why it happens, that there seeoM in 
general tfl be a fatality of disoatrons weather pecnllar to anch iaj% 
leading one to imagine that the agent possessed such a necromantio 
foreknowledge of the weather, as enabled him to superinduce the 
severi^ of the very elements upon hb own cruelty. In a country so 
poor as Ireland, the scene presented by a rent day is one too impres- 
sive and melancholy, ever to be forgotten by any heart touched with 
benevolence. There is little, if any, of that erect freedom of 
demeanour and natural exhibition of good will, which characteriie 
cons(uous independence, and a sense of protection, on the part of the 
tenant ; whilst on that of die agent or landlord, there is a ccmtemp- 
tuoos hardness of manner, a rile indifference, and utter disr^ard of 
the feelings of those by whom he is surrounded, that might enable 
the shallowest observer to say at a glance, A«v M no 4^f)9>a<Ay £ete0«a 
that MOM and tkese ptaph. 

But that is not alL Give yonrself time to observe them more 
closely, listen to that agent pouring his insolent invective upon ths 
head of this poor man, whose only crime is his poverty, and whose 
spirit appears to be broken down with the straggles and sn&ringa 
of life ; yet, who hears his honesty impugned, his efforts ridiculed, 
and his character blackened, without manifesting any other than a 
calm spirit that looks inwards to his own heart for the conscioasness 
of these falsehoods. Look at this, we repeat, and you will surely 
feel yonrtelf forced to say — not that there is no sympathy between 
these men, hvt that there riti the opprenor, and there etattdt ihe 

But even this is not all. Bestow a still more searching glance 
upon the scene. Here is more than invective { more than the 
imputation of dishonesty and fraud ; more than the cruel defamation 
of character in the presence of so many. Mark the words of that 
agent or landlord agun. He is sealing the fate of this straggling 
man; he tells him he is to have no home — no house to shelter 
himself, bis wife, and their children ; that he must be dispossessed, 
ejected, turned out upon the world, without friends to support or ud 
him, or the means to sustain their physical existence. Hear all tfai^ 
and mark the brow of that denounced man ; observe how it knits 
and darkens ; how firmly he oompreasu his lips, and with what a 
long determined gloomy gaze he surveys his denonncer — obsarre all 


THE TRISH kdtWt. aff 

this, we repeal, anil need jou feel snrpiiscd at finding yourself 
compelled to go sUU farther, and say — there litt a doomed man, and 
Utere mott atturedly ttandt hit murderer. 

Let it not be ispposed that we are capable of jaatitjiag murder, 
or the ibeddlog of human blood ; bat we are [uUiatbg, and ever 
shall palliate, that crime in the humble man, which originates in tlis 
oppression of the great man. Is the act which bonlBhes happiness, 
and contentment — introduces poverty, misery, destitation — which 
seattas ont of the heart all the little amenities and sweet endeaiments 
of life— which wastes away the strength of the spirit, and paralyses 
that of the band — which dims the eye and gives paleness to the cheek, 
and, by combining all these together, makes home — yes, home — the 
tiysting place of all the afiections, a thing to be thoaght of only with 
dread, an asylum for the miseries of life;-^ the act, we say, which 
inflicts upon a human being, or a human family, this scathing and 
multitudinous curse — no crime? Tesi In the sight of God and 
man it is a deepi an awful, and a moat heartless crime I To return, 
however, to our rent day. The whole morning was unseasonably 
cold and stormy, and as there was but little shelter about the place, 
wfl need scarcely say, that the poor creatures who were congregated 
before the door were compelled to bear the full force of its inclemency^ 

Indeed, it may be observed with truth, that when people are met 
bother under ciicunutancei of a p^fnl nature, they cannot relax 
or melt into that sooia! ease which generally maifa those wlio coma 
together wiUi no such restr^t upon the heart of spirits. Here, to(^ 
as in every other deportment of life, all the various grades ot povertf 
and dependence fall into their respective claBses. In one plaoe, fw 
instance, might be seen togetlier those more comfortable farmers who 
were able to meet their engagement^ but who laboured under the 
galling conviction, that, however lurd and severely industry might 
pat forth its exertkine, there was no ultimate expectation of independ- 
enoe— 410 cheering reflection, that they redded under a landlord who 
would feel gratified and proud at their pn^^renive prosperity. Alas 1 
it is wonderful how much happiness a bad landlord destroys I Tliese 
men stood with their iMcks to the wind and storm, lowly conversing 
upon the disastrous diange which was coming, and had come, over 
the estate. Their brows were lowered, their dialogue languid and 
gloomy, and altogetlier their whole appearanos was that of men wlto 
felt that they lived neither for themselves or tlkeir families, but fo« 
tiioae who totA no interest whatsoever in their happiness or welfora. 

In aootfier plaoe wera gnxiped together men who were s^ wan 


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off than the former — men, we mean, «bo were able to meet theif 
engagementa, but at the expense of all, or mostly all, that comtitales 
domeatio comfort — who had bad beds, bad food, and indi^reot 
clothea. These persona were far more humbled in their bearing than 
the fanner, took a teea iH^Muinent eitnatioa in the crowd) and aeemed 
to have deeper care, and much more peraimal feeling to repress or 
combat. It is an indispnt«ble fact, that the rery severe and Texatiooa 
^rannj ezerciaed over them had aboolutelj driven the poor creatures 
into hjpocrisf and falsehood — a general and almost uniform ocmae- 
qnenos <d cmidact so peooliariy oppresrive. They were all, at best, 
God knows, bat very pooriy oloHied ; yet, if it 90 happened, that me 
or two of the^^ somewhat more comfortable than the rest, happened 
to have got a new coat a iitlle -before the gale day, he Invariably 
declined to appear in it^ knowing, as ^ did, that be should receive a 
lomnt c^ abase froa the agent. In consequence of *' getting fat, 
impudent, and well dressed on his Lordship's property;" terms of 
abuse, whleb, together with the cause that prodoced them, are at thia 
moment well known to thoosands as expresriouB whose general occur- 
renoe on such occariona has almoat fixed tbem into a proverb. Will 
oar English noghbours believe this ? That we know not, but we 
oan assure them that they may. 

Thn« were other groups farther down in the scale of distress, where 
embarrassment and Btruttle told as yet a more p^fol tale; thosewho 
came with their rent, in full to be sore, bat literally reeked up fnHa 
their own private desCltatkin'— who were obliged to sell the meal, or 
oats, or wheat, at a ruinous loss, in order to meet the inexorable 
demoada of the nereileas and tynnnieol agent. Here were all the 
extamal evidences of their condition l^ble by a single look at their 
persons i they oJso herded together, ill clad, ill fed, timid, bn^oi 
down, heartless. All theses however, had their rento— had th«n fuU 
and complete in amount ; and now the reader may well say, tbia 
picture ia, indeed, very painful, and I am glad it is dosed at lost. 
Closed I oh, no, kind reader, it is not closed, nor conH it be dosed 
by any writer acquainted either with the subject or the country. 
What are we to aay of those who had not the rent, and who came 
there only to make that melaneholy statement, and to pray for mer^? 
Here was raggedness, shivering—not merely with the cAld aaaault of 
the dements bat frmu the dreaded iqtprehenaion of the tenible 
agent— downcast looks that spoke of keen and cstiiag misery — eja 
that were dead and hopelees in expression — and occasi o nally, a hasty 
wiiqging of the hands^ accftmpanfed by an expi«ssion so dcjeeted and 


lamentable, m makea lu, when we caet our eye in hnaglnation upon 
■neb men u Talentiue M'CIutchj, G17 ont alond, ** where are the 
tightnings of the Ahnigh^, and why ore his thandarbolts uleep I* 
There wu there the poor giej hured old man — the grandfather — 
aeoompaiiied, perhAps, by his promiaiiig young grandsoni, 1^ father- 
leas and motherless to his care, and broaght now in order that the 
agent might we with his own eyes, bow soon he will haTS their aid 
to coldvate their little farm, and consequently, to make it pay better 
he hopes. Then the widow, tremolons with the excess of many 
feelingS) many cares, and many bitter and indignant apjwebensiont. 
If handsome henelf, or if the motlier of daughters old enongfa, and 
sufficiently attractive, for the purposes of debauchery, oh I what has 
she to contend with P poor, helpless, friendless, coming to oflbr her 
humble apokigy for not being able to be prepared to the day. Alas I 
how may she, clutched as she is, in the fangs of that man, or his 
scoundrel and profligate son-^Kiw may she fight out the noble battle 
of religion, and Ttrtue, and poverty, against the united influences of 
ojqtreesion and lust, wealth and villany. 

The appearance of these difibrent groups — when the indemency of 
the day, their sinking hearty and downcast pale countenances, were 
token into eoneideration — ^was really a strong exponent of the greatest 
evil which characterizes and (^presses the coontry — the unsettled 
state of prqper^, and of the relative position of landlord and tenant 
in beland. 

At length the hall>door was opened, and a hard faced rofflan came 
out upon the stept^ shoating the name of a man named (yilare. The 
man immediately approached the steps, and after shaking the heavy 
rain ont of Ids big coat; and having whisked his hat backward and 
forwards several times, that be m^ht not soil his honour's ottoe, be, 
was brought in, and having made his bumble bow, stood to hear his 
honour's pleasure. His bononr, however, who had divided the labour 
between himself and Phil, bad also, by an aTrangement which was 
nndsrstood between tfaam, allotted that young gentleman, at his own 
request, a peculiar class marked oat in the rental, in which eloss this 
man stood. 

« (yHare," s^ Val, « bow do yon do ?" 

" Upon my conscience, yonr honoor, but pooriy," replied OUare, 
" the last heavy At of illofas, joined to the bod dmes, sir—." 

" (yHare,** said Solomon, "suffer me humbly, and withont assuming 
anything to myself, to point out to you the Impropriety of swearing ; 
I do it, my fiiend, in ail humili^ ; for I fear, that so long as you 

sio Tiirarrmg m'cldtcht. 

hidulge Id fhat most nnful practice, the times will sddom be otli^r 
Ibaa bad with yon, ta, indeed, with any one thtt girei way to so 
wicked a habit. Excofle ae, (yHare, I speak to yon as a ChriBtiaB> 
I humbly trust." 

" By G — , that's good, fatber," exclaimed Phil, " U'Slime preach- 
ing to sDch a f^ow as thid 1" 

" I humbly thank you, sir," said O'Hare to Solomon, <* for your 
kindness in — ' 

" Thank the devil, Birra," said Phil ; " what tbe deril does he or I 
.eara about your d ^ thanks. Have you your rent P" 

Tbe man, with trembling hands, {daeed some notes, and gold, and 
rilver before him-— the latter being reeled up In the former, 

"I'm abort for the present," he added, "just thirty shillings, ^; 
but you can gire me an acknowledgment for the snm I give you 
now: a regular reeeq>t will do when I bring the bi^aDoe, wlueb, God 
willin', will be in about a fcHtm^t." 

" Ay, and this is yonr rent, Ur. O'Hare," cxcbumed Phil, gather- 
ing up the money into a lump, and with all his force flinging it at 
the man's bead; "this is your rent, Mister O'Hare," placing an 
emphasis of contempt on the word Ur. ; " thir^ Bliili;.ig» shwt, Mr. 

O'llare, bnt 111 tell you what, Mr. CfElsK, ^ , if yon don't 

have the fall rent for me in two hours, Mr. CHare, ni make short 
work, and yon may sleep on the dunghilL I can, in ten minute^ get 
more rent than you pay, Mr, O'llare, so now go to h — 1, and get tl« 
■xmey, or oot yon go." 

The poor man stooped down, and with considerable search and 
diffieidtf, soooeeded in picking np his money. 

" In two hours, sir," said he " I could never do iu" 

" Tbn<?8 yonr own bnsiness," said Phil, " not mine — if you have h 
-not for aie in two honrs, out yon go i so now be off to heU out of 
ifais, and get it." 

Val, who bad been poring over aa accoont book, now iiised Ua 
head, as if disturbed by tbe noise for the first time ; — 

"Wha^s theBatt«r?" said he, " what is it, Phil ?" 

" Why, d — n my hononr," replied Phil, " bat that 'sconndrel, 

Hare, had the assnrance to came to ue tUrty shilliaga short of his 
ent, and, what is more, only bnmght me part of it in gold I" 

« God help me r ezclumed poor O'Haie, " I know Hot what to do 
•—sure I did the best I eonld." 

He then went ont to the hall, and waa about to leare the bous& 
when Val rising, called him into another room, where both remained 

, THE tOISH AQEirr. {Ml 

Ibr * few mbiRtM, after which the nan went ma,j, tbankiiig hii 
honour, Mid pnying Qod to bkw him t and V&l, haring seated him- 
•elf at the deek, appe«r«d to feel rather pleaaed at their little inter- 
view than oth^wiee, 

" Ah, my dear friend, M'Clutchj,** said Bolomon, " you are a trefr- 
■are in your way — when you do a kind act it ia always in secret, 
aver mindful of oar Bcriptnral oUigattons, my friead." 

"Why," said Tal, "a dian ia not always to teun^tel forth any 
little act of kindness he may choose to render to a poor simple £ellow 
like CHare. You mustn't mind him, Phil — I have told him not to 
l>e in a hniry Iwt to take hia timB." 

" Very weU," nid Phil, who had just knowledge enough of hie 
father's Tillany, to feel satisfied that, in whatever arrangement took 
f>lace betweea them, CHare's int«reat was not consulted ;* " very 
well ; d — n my honour, I auppeee it's all right, old cock." 

Our readers, we presume, have already obaerved, that however 
lenderiy our fiiend Solomon felt for the swearing habits of the pocv, 
be was somebow rather reluctant in offering a word in seastm to any 
eae ebe^ What hia motive could be for this we are really at a loss lo 
know, unless it proceeded from a cbaritable conscaoasnoss, that as 
there was no earthly hope of improving them by admonition, it was 
only deepening their responsibili^ to give it — ibr Solomon was cha- 
ritable in all things. 

" Gal! in Tom Magrare, from Edenmore," said Val ; now," be 
proceeded, " this is a stiff-necked scoundrel, who rsfosee to vote for 
ns ) but it will go bard, or I shall work him to some purpose. Wel^ 
Magnire, he proceeded, after the man had entered, " Pm gUd to see 
yoD— how do yon do ?" 

" Pm much obliged to you, dr," replied the other — " why, jost 
able to make both ends barely meet, and no more t but as the times 
goes, snre it's well to be able to do that same, thank goodness." 

" Tom," sud Solomon, " I am pleased to bear yos speak in socfa t^ 
spirit ; that was piously expressed — very much so, indeed." 

" Wdl, Tom," proeeeded Val j * I suppose you are prepared 7" 

" Why, sir," replied Tom, who, 1^ the way, was a bit of a wag ; 
■* you know, er at least Mr. M'Slime does, that it^s good to be alwayt 
prepared. The rent in full is there, sir," he added, laying it down 
on the table ; "and I'll thank you for the receipt' 

Tal deliberately reckoned over the gold — for in no Other cois 

* nUs scans is wvbatim tt ItleraUm from liiL 

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wouU he rec«ir« it — «Dd tben drew » long b^e«U^ knd appeueA 
utisfied, bat not altogether free frtm mom touoh of heritatkKi. 

*■ Ay," said he, " it is all rigbt, Tom, ositainly — ^^es, oertainbr, it b 
all right. Darby, fill Tom a bumper of whiakej — not that, I saj,—- 
the large glau, joa aconndrel.'' 

" TroUi, CapUin, tisn't my heart 'nd hindher me to gire him ib» 
largest in the honae ] but I ban a conacientions acmple agaioBt doin* 

wbit I betleve iant right iSj bible tella me well, well, sore 

rm onlj ob^fif^ ordhers. Hen, Tom," he added, handing him the 
la^e bumper. 

** CoDfoand the fellow, aaid Tal," ever taime he haa became a con- 
vert to Mr. Lucre, there's no getting a word oat of him that hasn't 
rdi^coi in it." 

" Ah, Captain," re|rfied Darby, " anre Mr. IfSIime there knowa 
that ' out of the abnndance of the heart the month q>aiketh.' * 

**I cannot answer for what jon we latterly, Darl^," replied 
Solomon — "thank jou, Tom,* to Hagnire, who had held his glass in 
bis hand for some time, and at lei^th hnrriedlj drank their healths ; 
— " but I know that the first spiritual nutrition jon Toodved, was at 
least from one who bdonged to on ApoatoUoal Chnrob— « Tolantvj 
PresbTtary — nnpoUnted 1^ the mammon of nnrigbteonaness, on 
which jonr Chnrch of Ireland is established." 

" But yon know," aaid Darby, " that we're ordbered to make for 
oorselves ftiends of that same mammwi of nnrighteonsnesa." 

** Upon my honour," said Fhil, " I know that yon're a hypocritical 
old Bconndrd. Be <^ to h — 1, sir, and hold yonr tMigne." 

" Koth and I will, CapUin Phil — I wiU then," and he was ^lent t 
but his &oe, aa he glanced first at Tom Magnire, and tJhen at Sado- 
moo, and the nut, was a pefeot jewel, beyond all price. 

" Tom," proceeded Val, " I hope you're Ibonght over what I men- 
tioned to yon on our oanTass the other day f 

" I have, air," sud Tom, " and Fm still of the lame OfSakm. Ill 
vote for Uartly and no other." 

" Yon don't imagine of what aervioe Lord Cnoiber and I ooold bo 
of to you." 

" I know of DO aervioe Lwd Camber ever was to any of hia 
tenantJ^" replied Magnire ) " except, indeed, to keep then gronnd to 
the earth, in anpportii^ his extravagance, and that be might spend 
their hard earnings in nnother ooantry, not caring one damn whether 
they live or starve. It's for that raison^ sir, I vote, and will rote 
Mg^ust him." 


"Well, but," said Tftl, wbose brow began to dariten, "you have 
not considered what an enem^ he can be to thoee like jou, wliosa 
obetinacf dnwt down his Teoentment vpon tkem. Have you ever 
eoDBidered that— «h P* 

" I doot «ee bow he am readily be a worse enemy to me, or any 
tenant he hae. than he ia at praeent. Ill trouble yon for my reeeipt, 
ICr. BCOntchyt but I won't vote for him. I beg your pardon, sir," 
aaid he, on looking at the receipt whicb Val, as he ep(Ae, had 
handed to him ; " this isn't ngned — your name's not to ik" 

" ShoW)" svd Tal ; " upon my life it is not. Ton are right, 
Hagotre } but the truth is, M'Slim^ tliat while speaking on any sub- 
ject that afibcta Lord Cumber's interests, I am Scarcely oonscioua oi 
doing anything else. Now, sir," he proceeded, addreBsing Magnire 
with a brow like midnight ; " there is yoor reeeipt— bring it home — ■ 
show it to your family— and tell them it is the last of the kind you 
will ever receive on the property of Lord Comber. I shall let you 
know, air, that I am somewhat stronger than you are." 

" Tha^s all to bo proved yet, sir," sud the sturdy farmer t " you 
know the proTerb) rir— ' man proposes, bat Qod disposes.' " 

" Wliat do yon mean, dm P What language is tbia to my father ? 
Be off to b— 1 or Connaught, sir, or we'll make it wone for yon — hat 
—bow wow." He did not nttw the last inteijeetion i but his face Cz- 

"Thalfs not the religious individual I took him to be," said 
Solwuon t " there ia much of the leaven of iniquity in him." 

"Bellgion be hanged, H'Slimel" aald Phil) *<wliat religicni could 
yon expect a Papist like faim to have ?" 

M M'Muri, call in old Faddy Corrigan." 

A venerable old man, who, though nearlji a hundred years old 
Stood actually as erect as the Apollo Belvidere himsdf, now entered. 
He was, however, but poorly clad, and had nothing elae remarkable 
about him, with the exception of a rich wig, which would puasle any 
one to know how it had got upon hit bead. On entaring be took off 
bis hat as usual, and paid his salutation. 

** What the devil do you mean, Corrigan P" said Phil, once more ia 
• duster I " what kind of respect is that in our preaeive ?— what kind 
of respect is that, I aay ? Take off your wig, sir." 

" With great respect to you, sir,** repUed Corrigan, " I have been 
in as jinteel company as this, and it's the first time ever I was axed 
to take my wig off." 

"Phil," Eaid Val, who really ielt somewhat ajhamed of Uiia igns- 



nut and'tTTumtcftl (Haeoml^ "Phil, my'good bo;^, I tbiak 70U m 
ratber foolish — aever mind him, Faddj, he 19 onl^ jeetiitg." 

"Are not jna the man," asked Solomon, "in vhoca out rector, 
Mr. Lucre, takes such a deep and ChriBtian int«ieBt i" 

- 1 am, sir," retnnied Corrigan. 

" And pra;, what intarest does he take in 70a V said Tal. 

" Throth, sir, replied Paddy, he is -my kind and very good to me. 
Indeed, he'd the generous gentleman, and the good Christian that 
doesn't forget Paddy Corrigan." 

" But, Paddy, what doee he do for yon 7" asked the agent. 

" Why, air," replied Corrigan, " he girea me a caat^ff wig once a 
year, God bless him I — This is his I hare on me. Throth ever since 
I began to wear them, I feel a strong relish for beef and mutton, and 
such fine feedin'; but somehow, God forgive me, I haven't the same 
leanin' to devotion that I tised to have. 

" Paddy, my old boy," said Phil, " that altera the case altogether. 
I tbonght the wig was as Popish as yourself ; but had I known that 
h was a staunch and conslitntionul concern, of sound High Church 
principles, I should have treated it with respecU I might have 
known, indeed, that it could not be a Popish one. Faddy, for I see it 
bas the thorough Protestant curL" 

The father looked at Pbil, to ascertain whether he was serious or 
Doti but so unmeaning or equivocal was the expression of his oounteo- 
ance that fae could inake nothing out of it. 

" You are reasoning," sud ^olomon, ■< upon wrong, certainly 
not upon purely gospel principles, PhlL The wig at thb moment 
bas a great deal more of Popery in it than ever it had of'Protos- 

** And, if Pm not nuKh mistaken, more honesty too," observed ViJ, 
who had not foi^tten tbc opposillon be received in the grand jut^ 
room by Lucre's friends ; nor the fitcti that the aaitae Rev. gentleman 
had taken muiy fat slioes out of his mouth on several other occasions. 

" Well, then, confound the wig," said Phil, ''and that'a all I bava 
to say about it," 

Paddy then paid hb rent, and having received a receipt, was about 
to go, when Val thus addreseed him : — 

"Paddy, I hope you will not hesitate to give up that farm of 
your's at Slatbeg ; I told you beiwre that if you do, I'll be a friend to 
yon for life. 

"Ill sell it, sir," said Paddy j "but surtlj jtm wouldn't have Stc to 
give up my intei'Cdt in such a faim as that," 



*■ m make it up to jon m olhur ways," said Val ; " and Dt meDtkni 
70U beudes to Lord Comber." 

" rm thankful to 700, ur," said Faddy ; " but it's in heaTsn TU bc^ 
most likel^i before erer jon see hia face." 

" Then, Ton won't give it up, nor rely npoB my gBoeroaity or Lord 
Cumber's F If s Lord Cumber 70U will be obliging, itot me." 

" Wid every respect for you bothiSir," replied Paddy, " I must think of 
my own flesh and blood, my ctuldre, and grand childn, and great gnnd 
ehildre, before I think on dther yon or him. The day, sir, you made 
me tipsy, and sent me on your car for the lease, I mould a given it) 
but then, they wouldn't let me at home, and so, on thinking it over — ^"' 

"Pooh, you're doUDg," siud Val; "go home, now — but, I teU 
yon, yon will hare cause to remember this before yon die, old as yoa 
are — gobom^ 

" The truth is, Solomon, I was odeied two hundred pounds for it 
by one of my 'hounds,' which would be a good thing enough, and 
would afford you a slice into the bai^n. The old fellow would 
have brought me the lease the day he speaks of, were it not for the 
family — and, talking of leases, you will not foi^t to draw up those 
two for the CFlagherties, with a flaw in each. They are certainly 
with us up to the present time, but, then, we can never be sure of 
tbese Papists." 

" No, d — n my honour, if ever we can," re-ecboed Phil j <• they 
hate us because we keep them down. Put in t^o good thumping 
flaws, Solomon, and be hanged to yon ; so that we can pop them out, 
if ever they refuse to vote for us." 

" Never you mind Solomon," said his &ther, " Solomon wiQ put in 
a pair of flaws that will do him honour." 

"If I did not feel that in doing so, my dear M*Clutchy, I am 
rendering a service to religion, and fighting a just and righleous 
fight against Fopeiy and idolatry, I would not deem myself as one 
permitted to do this thing ; but the work Is a helping forward of 
religion, and that is my justification," 

** Can Philip l>uggan in." 

A poor looking man now entered, with a staff in his Land, by the 
aid of which he walked, for he was lame. 

"Well, Du^an, your rent?" 

" I have scrambled it together, sir, from God knows how many 

" Phil," said Solomon aside, " is It not painful to hear how habitu. 
tlly theio dark erealiircs take the sacred name in nun ?" 

L,, „.,.vGooglc 


" By G — I it's perfectl; sboeking," uid Phil t " bat what «1ae 
could joa expect from them ?" 

" Dnggan," ssid Val, " what ii this ? hne's a mutakc — ^y ou an 
Bhort three ponnd ten." 

"Beggin' tout pardon, rir, Wa all right," replied Doggan t "jon 
see^ joai honour, here's my little ttcconntfor tha woric I wrought (or 
you for At* weeka wid hone and carl, up ondl Z put mj knee out <f 
foiat in the quarry ; you remember, sir, when I brought it to you, 
joa iud to let it stand, that yon would allow for it in the next gale." 

- I remember no Buoh thing, my good fellow, or, if erer I said such 
i tbin(^ it mn£t hare been a mistake ; do you imagine, now — are you 
Mally so stupid and silly as to imagine that I could transmit this 
account of yoni'a lo Zx>id Cumber, in payment of his rent V 

"But wasn't it by your own ordhers I did it, sir ?" 

" No, HT { it couldn't be by my orders. Dnggan, you're a grea 
knave, I see. I once had a good opinion of you ; but I now perceive 
uy error. Here yon trump up a diahonest bill against me, when 
you know perfectly well that most of the work you charge me with 
was du^ work." 

" B^^n' yonr pardon, sir, I paid yon the duty-work beudea, if 
joull remember it.' 

" I tell you, sirra, you are a most impudent and knavish scoundrel, 
to speak to me in this style, and in my own office too I Go snd get 
the balance of the rent, otherwise you shall repent it ; and, mark me, 
airta, no more of your dishones^." 

** As God is to judge ma " 

" Ah, my friend ," began S<domon. 

" Be off to h— I, sir, ont of this," thun lered PhiL « Be off, I say, 
to h — 1 or Connaoght ; or if you don t, take my word for it, youll 
find yourself in a worse mess. To address my father in such 
language 1 Be off, sir, ha 1* — bow wow I said his face once more. 

" Ah," sud Solomon, when the man had retired, " I see your 
patience and your difficulties ] but there is so man free from the 
latter in this checkered vale of sorrow." 

" Coll Roger Began," said Tal t "here's a fellow, now, who has an 
excellent farm at a low rent, yet he never is prepared with a penny. 
Well, Began." 

*' Oh 1 devil resavQ the penny, sir ; yon must only prise (apprise) 
the craps; the ould game, air — the onld game; however, it's a 
merry world as hmg as it lasts, and we must only lake our own fun 

r^cinzedoy Google 


« Whkt is tbe maUer with jow heftd, Began f" aaked TkL 

"Danl A much, siri s ooufda «/ cuts that jou might Uy your 
finger in. We ai^ the Hannigana bad aoother set-to on TfanrBdaj 
last, biU be tnj sow), ire thnuhed them into obaff— aa wo're well 
aUe to do. Will I hare tbe pleasore of drinking your health, 
pntfamea ? I think X aee the r^t tort here.* 

" Give him a gUes of apirits," said Tal t " I think, B^an, 7011 
have seen aoine one drinking to-daj already." 

" Well, gintlemen, here'»— 4f we're to hare a sbtHl life, may it be 
a merrj one I and may ire nerer ut wone mait than mntton I Mr. 
H'^ime, more power to yon 1 She's next door to me" — and he 
winked at Scdomon — " an' barrin' the faSeaena, hy the powers gettin' 
OB Amona ; troth, sir,* in reply to Val, "only ahare of two half pinta 
wtd Faddy Ckilgan, in regard of tbe day that's in it — ^blowin' kullocka 
— and, 1 beUeve, another half pint wid Farra Bellew. Blood, sir, 
bat that's a beaotiful dropl Sowl it wonld take the tear off a widow's 
fi^ or the widow herself. Faith, Mr. M'Clntchy, I conld tell where 
tbe cow grazes that was milked fw that I Awonh I However, no 
matter, Fm rantio' Began from sweet Augfaadarra — Began the Bake 
ihat nerer seen to-morrow. Whiah I more power I" 

" That will do, Began ; you have net your renL" 

" Oh 1 d — n the penny, aa uauaL Success 1" 

" Well, but wha^B to be done P I most come dotm." 

" Diril a foot jronll come down, plaise yonr htmoor ; but yooll 
cmne up and prise tbe crap. It's worth five times the rent, at any 
rate— tha^B one comfort. Hurroo 1" 

"Upon my honour. Began, Fm tired of this: I have done it several 
times tbrongh kindness to yonraeU and fitmily, but I cannot, really, 
do it any mctto.' 

** Very well, sir, no (Abnce t what one wont, another will ; I can 
raise three times the rent on it in four and twenty houn." 

" What on nnfortonate man you are, to be sure. Well, Began, I 
thall appraise yoor (Tops, and take than, or a competent share of 
tbem, in payment^ on Ms occasion ; but, marit me, it shall be tha 
last time." 

*■ More power, I mj. Long life to you, sir. Ton know a hawk 
from a hand-saw, any how ; and be my sowl, kind father for you. 
Wbish 1 Fm rantin' Began from sweet Anghadam 1" 

60 sayings poor, Uk, drinking negligent, pugnacions Began, by 
his own sheer neglect; pnt his pn^ierty into the huids of tbe most 
nlantlest harpy that erer robbed and fleeoed a leniotry. Tbia mod* 


ZiB VALEmms ihjliitcsi, 

of proOeedbig was, in fact, one of tite manj methods resorted to hy 
npsdons agents, for filling their own pockets at the expense of the 
tenant, who, bj this means, seldom roceired more than a fourth part 
of the valoe of his crops. The agent, under the maak of obliging 
bim, and ssTiog hia crops fr<xn the hammer, took tbem at a valuation 
when the markela were low ; and in order that he might be able to 
do so, he always kept over the tenant's head what is called « hanging 
gale — ^which means that he was half a year's rent in arrear, Tho 
crops were then brought borne to the agent's place, and frequently, 
to save appearances, to the haggard of 9(»ne friend of his, where tbey 
were kept until the markets got up to (he highest price. So that it 
was not an unusual thing for the iniquitous agent to double the rent, 
one half of which he coolly put into his own pockeL In past(»«l 
lands the butter was appraised in the same manner, and mostly with 
similar results to both parties. To return : when Began had departed, 
Tal asked Solomon what he thought of him. 

** Think of him," replied Solomon, who conld not foi^ve the 
allusion to Susanna, " I would fain think of him as becmnee a 
Christian -, but, somehow, I conld not help feeling, whenever I lotted 
at him, that there was the outline of an execution in his facet 
however, I may be mistaiun; indeed, I hofs, I trust I am — the 

" Mil art call in Catharine TyrrelL" 

"Yes," said Phil, "call in Widow Tyrrell. Now, Solomon, only 
you have no relish for any thing except what^s sanctified and 
spiritual, you would say that here comes such a specimen of Irish 
beauty as you have seldom seen." 

" I never had any objection,'' aud Solomon, who, in spite of all 
his gravity, betrayed an alertness on this occasion that was certainly 
not usual to him.-^" I never had any objection to look npiHi any 
work from His hand, with pleasnre. Indeed, on the contrary, I often 
felt that it nusod my sense of — of what was beautiful, io such a way 
that my feelings became, as it were, foil of a sweet fervour that was 
not to be despised ; I will eonseijuetitly not decline to look upon th» 
comely widow — that is, in the serious light I mention." 

« How do you do, Mrs. Tyrrel? 1 hope you have not got mncU 
vret (" said Vol, turning round very blandly. 

« Oh, Mrs. Tyrrell, I hope you're very well,** followed Pliil ; *• I 
fwir you have got wetj have the goodness to take a chair, Mra. 
Tyrrell, and a glass of wine, ma-am." 

Hri. Tyrrel Unk a cLur, but she declined the ghiss of wine. Mra. 

TTIE TtlSR AGS^rr. ^9 

^tyrrell linil been the wife of a Toung husband, who Jied in bis 
twentjT'fonrth year, just when they hkd been about a j«ar and a bslf 
married. She was berself, cm the day in question, about the same 
age aa her husband wbui he died. She had been a widow just two 
years, and had one child, a son. She was indeed a beaudful woman 
' — ia fact a veiy beautiful woman, as one could almost see in faer 
humble condition of life. Her tresses were a raven block ; bat her 
skin was white and polished aa ivory. Her face was a fine specimen 
of the oral ; her brows exquiutely penmlled t and her large black, 
but mellow eyes, flashed a look that went into your very heart. Bnt, 
if there was any thing that struck yon as being more fascinating than 
another, it was the expression of innooenc^ and purity, and sweetness, 
that lay about hex onall moutli, and beautifully-rounded chin. Hot 
form was symmetry itself, and a glimpse of the amall, but beootifi^ 
foot and ancle, left no doubt upon the mind as to the general harmony 
of her whole figure. On tiiis oc«asion there, was a pensive air about 
her which added to the interest she excited; for we believe It laxf 
be truly observed, that beanty never appears so impressively or 
tenderly fascinating as when it is slightly overehadowed with caret 
We need scarcely say, that there was a great deal of contraat in the 
gaze she received from Fhil and our friend Solomon. That of Fhil 
was the gross, impudent stare of a libertine and a fool ; a store which, 
in the eye of a virtuous woman, soon receives its own withering 
rebuke of scorn and indignation. That of SiJomon, on the oth«; 
hand, was a look in wtiich there larked a vast deal of cunnings 
r^nlated and sharpened by experience, and disguised by hypocrisy 
into something that absolutely resembled the open, ardent admiration 
of a child, or of some innocent man that had hardly ever been in the 
world. There was, however, a villoinoas dropping of the comers of 
the month, with an almost irrepressible tenttoncy to lick the lips, 
accompanied by an exndation of internal moisture from the glands— 
vulgarly termed a watering of the teeth — which, to a close observer, 
would have betrayed him at once, and which were evident bom the- 
involuntary workings of his whale face. 

" Mrs. Tyrrell," said Vol, " I am glad to hear that yoa are making 
considerable imjirovements on your farm." 

" Improvements, sir 1" replied the widow in amazement ; " I dWt 
know who could have told yon that, sir. Didn't my potato ^tap fail 
altogether with me, and my flax, where I had U spread on the holme 
below, was all swept away by the flood." 

• t am sorry to hear that, Mrs. Tyrrell j we are very hwt! up f Jf 

,., ...,....Gt)ogIc 


man!!/ Iiere, and thfi landlord doem't know oo what hand to turn ; K 
must raise a lar^ sam for him forthwith ; indeed, to tell yoa tha 
troth, I hare received instmctionf that am not at all pleasant to 
myself — I am to let no one pasS) he says, and if I cannot get the rent 
Mherwiae, I am to enforce it. Now this is very nnpleasant, Mrs. 
l^rrell, inasmnoh as it compels BM to take steps that I shaD feel veij 

"God help me, then," replied the poor Tonng woman, "for, aa to 
tent, sir, I have it not j and, indeed, Mr, H'Clntchy, what brought 
me bexK to-daj, was to ask a little tirae, j ust till I get mj butter made 
up and sold." 

« Tes, but what can I do, Mrs. TyiTell 7 X have no power to let 
anj one o^ even where I feel inclined, as I do in yonr case. It really 
is not in mj power; Lord Camber took care to leave me no discretion 
in the bnrinesa at alL" 

f Bat surely, sir, you don't mean to say, tI^t unless I pay the rent, 
you will seize upon my proper^ " 

" This," said Tal, as if to himself, " Is really very distressing— 
unfortunately, Mrs. Tyrrell, I mitst indeed, unless you can raise the 
money in some way ; wouldn't year friends, for instance, stand by 
you, until your butter Is made op ?" 

" I have no such liriends," replied the poor w(»nan ; " them that 
would, am't able ; and them that ofc able, won't ; and that's only 
the way of the world, sir." 

" It's too true, indeed, Urs. Tyrrell ; I am very sorry, exceedingly 
sorry, for what mnat be done. It is such circumstances aa these that 
make me wish I never had become an agent" 

" For God's sake, sir, have patience with me for about a month or 
nx week^ and I will be able to pay it nil easily." 

" If I was my own master," retnmed Val, " it would give me 
pleasure to do so, but I am not." Here there was a groan (torn 
Solomon of ctHupassion for the poor widow, followed by a second, 
which was clearly a comment upon the fii^ What a pity, said the 
first, to see so interesting a young widow without the means of paying 
her rent — and is it not a wicked and hard hearted world, sud the 
second, that has not in it one individual to befriend herl Mrs. Tyrrell 
looked round on hearing an expression of sympathy, and there was 
Solomon ganng on her with a look, in which admiration and 
pity were so well feigned, that she felt grateful to Solomon in her 
heart As for Phil, whether he gaxed at her, his father, or at the 
Ittomey , such was the cony>rciiensive latitudinariftnism of bb squint, 

01 Google 


TBI OlSH agkht. ui 

that she felt it impossible to tell ; ndther, indeed, did she care. She 
waa now in tears, and Yal having declared his detenninadon to pro- 
ceed, was ialent, as if out of respect to her feelings. At length she 
rose up, and when on the ere of going oat, she asked for the Inst 

" Mr. M'Ctutcby is there no hope ? I tmgt, rir, that when yon 
consider bow long my family aild my husband's have been living on 
this proper^, yeo^ think better of it than to bring myself and my 
poor orphan boy to beggar; and rnin. What will become of him 
and me ?" 

*' D — n my hononr, Mrs. T^rreU, but I feel for yon," said Pfail 
eagerly, aa if raahing Itead foremost into a fit of the purest 
humanity. ' 

" Do not be cast down, Mrs. TyrreU," said 8ol(»non, " there is one 
who can befriend the widow, and who will be a father to the father- 
less. Bcly on Him Wwho knows but an instrament may be raised 
up for your relief. Do not be thns east down." 

" I7o,'' s^ Phil, "do not, or you'will only spoil them devilish fine 
ejta of year's^ Mrs. l^rreD, by crying. Come, oome, father, you 
most give her the time she asks i upon my hcmonr, Til guarantee she 
won't disappoint yon." 

"And, if he is not sufficient, I will join him.'said.SolcHAon; "you 
may rest iip<m her WOTd, my friend ; for I am satisfied, that no serious 
falsehood is in the babit of proceeding from a moutfa so sweet and 
comely in expression, as Mrs. Tyrrell's. Come, Yal, have a heart, 
and be compasdonnte towards tlie fair widow." 

" If you or F^ will pay the money," stud M'Clutchy, " well xai 
good ; but you both know, tliat otherwise it is out of my power."^ 

There is a vast deal of acntenees of observation in Zrishwomeni 
together with a quickness of perception, that sometimes resembles 
instincL Mrs. l>^Trell'a purity of feeling and good sense were ofier • 
ded at the compliments which Phil and the attorney mixed up with 
the i^mpathy d>ey expressed for her. She felt something jar dis- 
agreeably upon her natoial delicacy by their selecting the moment of 
her distress for giving utterance to language, which, coming at any 
time from either of them to one in her station of life, was imjvoper i 
but, under the present circnmstances, an insult^ and an impertinent 
trifling with her aAiction. 

* Well,* Bud she, without paying them the slightest attention, " I 
mnst say, Mr, M'Clutchy, that if you proceed as yon threaten to do, 
your oondoct towards me and my poor orphan will be mdx as I doal 

, .......Google 


tliink yon can justify either to God or .man. I wish yon good 
morning eir ; I have no more to say npon it." 

'• Oh, Mrs. I>rTeU, if yoa begin to abuse us," replied Val, " and lay 
down the law on the matter, I have no more to Bay either." She 
then went out, but bad not left the hall, when Phil following s^ in 
R low impudent confidential ton^~ 

" Don't be in a hurry, Mrs. Tyrrell, just step into the parlour for 
a few minotee, and well aee what can be done — step in." 

"No, sir," she replied, feeling very naturally ofiended at the 
familiarity of his manner, " I will not step in ; any thing you hava 
to say you can say it here. 

" Tea — but, then, they may overhear us. D^— n my honour, but 
you're a voiy pretty womim, Mrs. Tyrrell, and Td be sorry to see 
harsh proceedings token against yon--4hat is, if we could understand 
' one another." 

The scarlet hue of indignation had already overspread her facft 
and temples, her eyes flaslied, and her Ttnce became firm and fulL 
' " What do you mean, sir ?" she asked. 

"Why," aaii he, "conldn't there be an understanding betweoi 
hb ? In fact, Mrs. Tyrrell, you're very handsome — an — eh ? — ^yov 
would find me a friend to you." 
' She made no reply but returned into the room. 

"Mr. H'Clutchy," said she, "I thought that a woman ■ especially 
a poor nnprotocted widow like me — might, at least, come into yonr 
house about her necessaiy buBiness without being insulted ; I thought 
that if there was one house abore another where I ought to expect 
fbrotection it is yours. It's your duty, I think, to protect them that^s 
livin' upon this property, and Btru^lin' to pay you, or him that 
employs you, the hard earned rent that keeps them in porer^ and 
hardship. I think, sir, it ought to be your duty, as I said, to protect 
me, and such as me, rather than leave hb exposed to the sbominaUe 
proposals of your bou," 

" How is this ?" said Val ; " where are you, Phil?" 

Phil entered with a grin on Um, that betrayed Tery clearly ths 
morals of the father, as well as of himself. There was not the 
elightest appearance of shame or confu^on about him; on the con- 
treiy, he looked upon the matter as a good joke ; but, by no means, 
so good SB if it had been successful. 

" Phil,'* said liis father, bardy restraining a smile, " is it possible 
that yoa could dare to insult Mrs. Tyrrell under this roof?" 

» D a my honour, a confounded lie," replied Phil ; " she wanted 


me to lend her tne money, and because I did not, sbti told jrou I mftda 
proposals to her. All revenge and a lie." 

Mrs. T)TreU looked it him — " WeU," snid ahe, "if there's a jn«t 
God in heaven, yim will be made an example of jret. Oh 1 little 
they know that own this property, and every other pfepeity like il^— 
of the insults, and hardahipe, and oppreeeiona, that their tenantry 
mnst BnSer in their absence from them that's placed over them ; and 
vitbont any one to protect them or appeal t» for Batiefaction or 
relief — air, that villain in the shape of your son^^tbat cowardly 
villain, knows that the words he insulted me i& an not yet cowld 
upon his l^M." 

" I have reason to pbt every confidenice In what my ton says^* 
replied Val, very cooly, ** and he is not a villain, Mrs. l^rrelt— «o I 
wish you a good morning ma^am I" 

This virtuous poor woman, flnshtid with a sense of Outraged 
modesty, widi scorn, and indignation, left the room; and with a 
distracted mind, and a bretdcing heart sought her orphan, whose 
inoooent face of wonder she bedewed on her return hcone with tean 
of the bitterest sorrow* 

It is not our intention to describe at full length the sevenl 
melancholy scenes which occurred between poverty and dependence 
on one side, and cold, cruel, insolent authority, on tlie other. It is 
needless and would be painfol, to tell how much age and helplessness 
snfiered at the hands of these two perBons, especially at those of Fbi^ 
whose chief delight appeared to consist in an authoritative display 
of power and natural cruelly. 

The widow had not been more than a minute gon^ when the door 
opened, and in walked without note or preparation, a stout swarthy 
looking fellow named M'Clean. 

« Well, Tom," said Val, " is this you ?" 

" Brother M'Ctean," said Solomon, " how are you ?* 

" What would ul me i* smd M'Clean," " there's nothing wrong 
with me but what mtwey could cure— if I had it." 

" And you have no money, Tom 1" said Yal, smiling, " that, Tom, 
is a bad bnainess — for we never wanted it more than we do at present 
Sertotuly have yon the rent V 

" !>— s tJie penny, brotii^' M'GIutchy; and what's mora, won't 
have it for at least three monUis." 

" Thaf s bad again, Tom. Any news ?— any report ?" 

" Why, ay — ^there was a gun, or a pistol, or a pike, or something 
that way, seen with the Gallagherg of Eilscaddan." 



" Ha — are ^n snn of that 7" 

c Not myadf sore ; bat I hesid it on good antbori^ i but I tUnfc 
we had better makfl nm^ b^ paying tbem a vibit some night ■ood.* 

"Ws wiU talk abont that," said Tal } "but I am told that yum 
traatad Flint Bocha badly the other nigbk Is that tnie ?* 

" Why, what did yoo hear ?" aaked M'Clean. 

** I heard jon flred into his house ; that you know mu daagennia,* 

*• All right," aaid FIul t " what right have popish prieeta b> live 
under a Protestant government ? Bj mj sacrod honour, Td faaniah 
them like wild oaU." 

"No," said U'CIean, in nplj to Tal, "we did not; all we did waa 
to play 'Croppiea Lie Down,' as we paaeed the bouse, and fire three 
▼oUiefl «Mwr it— not imto it t but if there waa e'er a one among lu 
with a bad aim you know, that wasn' his fault or ours ; ha — ha^-l^ 
Japen," said he in a low c(Hifidential whisper, " we frightened the 
seven senses out at i^at, at any rate — the bloody papist rascal — for 
sure they are all that, and he d. . d to them." 

"Capital doctrine— and. so they are, Tom; right* Tom; so yo« 
frightened the bog Ladn out of him — ha 1 ha I ha 1" 

" Ha — ha— ,li»— by my sowl we did, and more may be if it was 
known t I most be off now." 

" Oo and help yoorself to a bumper of ^nrits before yon go," said 
Val{ "and, Tom, ke^ a sharp look ou^ and whenever yon find, <ff 
Lear o! arms, let me know immediately." 

Tooi only nodded to that, as he put the glass to his lips ; "gentle- 
men," said be, " your healths ; here's no Popery I no Surrender I" 
saying whidi, he deposited the empty glass on the table, giving at the 
same time two or three short coughs occasioned by the strength of 
^he liqnor. " Good mornings gentlemen — brother, U*Slime" — he 
kicked, and nodded rigniileantly at Solomoc, then added — "good 
people are scarce { so be a good boy utd take care of yoorsdr." 

" Now, Tom, be a good SbUow and don't forget the rent," said Tal ; 
Toan nodded again, for it was a habit lie had, and departed. 

The next person who presented himself was a little, meagr^ thin, 
docking man, with a djy serious air about him, that seemed to ma^ 
him as a kind of curiosity in his way. From the moment be eoleredi 
Solomon aeemed to slirink up into half bis ordinary dimeuaionB, nor 
did the stranger seem unconscious of this, if one eould jndge by the 
pnngwt expresuon of his small gr^ eyes which were fastened on 
Solomon with a Utter significoDce, that indicated such a commuBi^ 
of knowledge as did not seem to be pleasant to either of the& 


" Ah, Sam Wallace," aaid Val, " alwaya punctual, end never mon 
welcome than dow ; scraping and scrambUng we are, Sam, to make 
ui tti" demand for thie laadlord*" . 

" Wliat wayir }re,Hr. M'Clutcb;; am ^eA to gee ye luck bo well} 
ft am indeed." 

" Thank jou, Sam. How are f^\ your faiml; ?" 

" Deed, as well ta am be expected under the stain that's orer i^** 

"Sttun! What do 70U mean, Sam? 

"Feth, a main what's pnr^ well known i ibat mUfbrtune that 
bcfel our daue^ter Snsaona." 

" Dear me, Sam, how was that ?" 

" The way of it was this — she went as a children's maid Into a 
reli^oos &auly"— ben tbs two jittering eyes werg Seioelf &atened 
upcm Solomon — ** where she became a aeriovs young peraan <of delu- 
ded pie^, as tbey c^ it — aa h — 1 till m«, but another vanUt will 
make it dedded eaongh^well, sir, deel a long she was there till the 
saini, bw mosther, made a einner of her, and now she's likely to have 
. her gifU, aich as they ir." 

" I am very sorry to hear this, Sam 1 bat, sorely the man who se- 
duced your daughter does not deserve to be called religioua-" 

« Dian't he, fcth ? why, Lord blesa you, sure it was a all done in a 
religious way — they snng paalms logellier, prayed together, read the 
bible together, and now the truth is, that the consequenco will bo 
speaking for itself some of these days," 

Hera another fiery look was darted at Solomon, who appeared 
deeply engaged MnoTig leases, pM)en, and such other documents as 
were before him. 

" It*s a bad buunesa oertunly, Sam— but now about tke tent.*' 

"Hutl de'ilapennyo' rent I have— hell take the tester J and yet, 
for aU that, a'll pay you afore a Uive the room— what do you think 
of that?" 

" I don't ande.Stand it, Sam." 

" Now," sud Sam, going over to Solomon, " youll pay Mr. 
M'Clutchy tha sum of twelve poands, fourteen, and three pence fur 
me, Mr. M'Slime — if yon please, sir." 

There was a peremptory tone in hii words, which, joined to the 
glittering look he rivetted on Solomon, actually fascinated that 
worthy gentleman. 

"My friend," replied Solomon, taking out his pocket-book, and 
•eeming to look for a memorandum, "yon have made a slight mistake 
agunst yourself J the sum, I find, ia twelve pounds seventeen, and 


356 VALEimHE m'cLDTCHT, 

tbree pence, so that 70U have made a slight mistake of tfarae abilQiigi^ 
M I said, sgainst yeuraelf." 

" Do jOD pay the haif jeax'a rent, which is the snm I aay, and 
yon may gire the three shiUiDga in charity, which I know you will 

" Shall I fill the receipt," asked Val, looking to Solomon. 

« Fill it," said the other, " I am very glad I happened to have bo 
mtich about me, poor man." 

" So am I," returned Sam, significantly. 

Solomon rose, and with all the calmness of maimer which be could 
assume, lud the money down before K'Clntchy. 

" Try," said he, " if that is right." 

" Show here," said Sam, " all reckon them 1" and having done so, 
be put one particular note in his pocket — "never yon mind,* ha 
added, addressing himself to Tal, " m give you another note for 
this t" and he winked significantly as he spoke. He accordingly did 
so, and having paid the money and rec^ved his receipt, he bid them 
good-bye, once more winking, and touching his wiuatcoat pocket as 
be wenL He had not been long gone, however, when Solomon once 
more examined his pocket'book, and in a tone which no pen could 
describe exclaimed, " verily, the ways of Providence are wonderful ! 
Will yon look again at that money 7" said he — " I have given away 
a note for ten pounds instead of a note for one." 

" It ia not here, then," replied Val, " but PU venture to say that 
Sam, the knave, put it in hi« pocket when he made the exchange." 

" Shall I call him back ?" siud Phil, ** there he goes towards the 

" No," replied the other, " I have great reliance on Sam's hooes^ 
He will return it no doubt on perceiving the mistake, or if not, I 
■hall send to him for it. Yes, I kndw Sam is honest — ^bot tmly the 
ways of Providence are wonderful !" 

So saying with a visage peculiarly rueful and mortified, he closed 
his book and put it in his pocket. 

The hat person whom we shall notice was Brian M'Loughlin, on 
whose featoaes care bad recently made a deep impression. On being 
asked to nl^ he declined — " I thank you," aaii he, " my visit will be 
bnt a short one, and what I have to say I can say standing/* 

" That as yon please, Mr. M'Loughlin ; shall I fill your receipts ?* 

" No," replied the other, " I umply came to state, that, owing to 
. the derangement of onr a&in^ I am not just now in a condition fo 
pay my rent" 

r^cinzedoy Google 


" Thftt u unpleasant, Mr. Mlioughliu." 

" Of conrae U ia," he replied ; " that was my only buautesa^ Mr. 
M'Clutchf, and now I bid 70a gooi day." 

" Not so fast, if yoD {dcaae, Mr. M'Loaghlin ; do not be in Buch % 
hurry. Ton remember a meeting you and I had once in Caatls 
Cumber fair ?" 


" Toil remember the extraordinaiy civility with which you treated 

" I do, Tal, and I only expressed what I thought then and think 
now; but indeed you have improved the wrong way wonderfully 

" Toot language was indiscreet then, and it is so now." 

« It was trae for all that, Mr. M'Clutchy." 

" How, might not I, if I wished, take ompje revenge for the insul- 
ting terms you applied to me ?" 

" Tou Height, and I suppoae will — I expect nothing else, for I 
know yon welL" 

" Tou do not know me, Mr. M'LoaghliD, so far from acting np to 
what yon ima^^e, I shall not avul myself of your po^ti<m ; I have 
no such intention, I aasnre yon t eo that whatever ^prehenMona yon 
may entertain from othera, yon need have none from me. And, now, 
Mr. M'Loughlin, do you not percdve diat yon judged me nnjnetly 
and uncharitably ?" 

" That's to be seen yet, Mr. M'Clutchyj time wiU teU." 

" Well, then, make your mind easy ; I shall take no prooeedinga 
in consequence of your sitnation — so far from that, I shall wait 
patiently till it is your convenience to pay the rent~-so dow, I wish 
yoH good day, Mr. M'Loughlin." 

** That is a beautiful exhibition of Christian spirit," exclaimed 
Solomon, " good wo^ are truly the fruit of faith." 

" Before you go," said Fhil, with a sneer, " will yon allow me to 
ask how poor Mary is." 

M'Loughlin paused, and calmly looked first at Fhil, and then at 
his father. 

" Phil,'' said the latter, " I shall order you out of the room, ur, if 
I hear another word on that unfortunate sntgect. I am very sorry, I 
assure yon, Mr. M'Loughlin, for that untoward transaction — to be 
sure, I wish your daughter had been a littie more prudent ; but young 
ladies cannot, or at least, do not always regulate their passions or 
attachments! and so, when they make a false step, tb^ mu*t Bufiiar 



for iL Afl for myself, I can only express mj sincere regret tbot tb* 
ibuxpa* happened, and that it should hare get wind in audi a way 
OS to deprive the poor giri of Iier ohBraotcr." 

After contemplating the fathar and am tat same time altematefy, 
iridi s loot in wliieh wu visihle Ifce most wintering contempt and 
■com, and which nude them both qnail hefore him, he replied t — 

" Tout falsehood, scoundrels, ia as Tindictire aa it is cowardly, and 
yon both know it ; bat I am an honest man, and I feel that to stoop 
to a defen<» of my virtnona ehild against either or both of yoo, would 
be a degradation to her aa well ea to myself. I therefore go, leaving 
yon my contempt and scorn, I could almost aay my ^ty ." 

H«, then walked oat, neither father or son having thought it 
prudent to brave the expi^ssion of his ^e by replying to hia words. 
"Now," said Val, sddresoing Solomon, "let there be an Exeoulion 
issued without a moment's delay— the man is doomed, Hs boor is 
come; and so may I never proeper, if X don't scatter him and his, 
houseless and homeless, to the Ibur eomere of heaven I I have meshed 
him at last, and now for vengeance 1" 

"But," said Solomon, in a tone of slight remonstranoe, "I trusty 
my dear M'Clntohy, that in taking vengeance upon this man and his 
family, you will do so in a proper spirit, and guard against the impu- 
tations of an uncharitable world. Wbea yon take vengeance, let 
your motives be always pure and upright, and even oharttabl^— 
^ oovna yon expect and hope that you ruin this man and his family 
tm their own gpiritnal good. Tlie affliction you are about to bring 
on then), wEI eofWn and subdite their hard and obstinate hearts, and 
lead them, it is to be hoped, to a better and more ChriBtian state of 
feeling. May He grant It V 

" Of course," replied Tal, hnmooring him in his hypocrisy, " of 
coarse it ia from these motives I act ; certainly it is." 

"In that case," said Solomon, « I am bound to acknowledge diat I 
have never heard a man vow vengeance, or express a determination 
t« ruin his fellow creature, upon more delightfoUy Christian prin* 
ciples. It is a great privilege, Indeed, to be able to mln a wlude 
family in soch a blessed spirit, and I have no doubt but yon feel U 

r^cinzedoy Google 



« ithot'c'b sBiras OF justice— roses of tarn anAi^— poix DOOUH't 
KSHORSE — coirm&iTioir on aau fbofbbtt— -DucLOtims ooii- 


Abodt Avek, on tiie evening of that day, Poll Doolin having pat oa 
her blade bonnet, prepared to go out npon some matter of a private 
natitrfl, as was dearly evident by her manner, and the caatiotu naton 
of all her movements. Baymond, who eyed her dosely, at length 

" Take care now — don't harm tiem." 

"Them I" replied Poll, "who do yoo mean by Aem f 

" The BKLot^hlinB— go and hxik at Mary, and then ask yooreelf 
why joQ j<nB the divil ^— there now, that^s one. Who saved me P do 
yon know that, or do yon care ? Very well, go now and jdh the 
divil, if yon like ; but I know what TU do some fine night" &re 
he leaped in a state of perfect exultation from the ground. 

" Why, what will yon do ?" said Poll. 

" TouTl not tell to-morpow," replied Baymond, « neither wilt any 
one else ; bnt I don't fiirget poor white-head, nor Mazy Mltonghlin." 

"Well, keep the bonse, like a good boy," she said, "till I cone 
back ; and, if any body should eome In, or uk where I am, say that 
I went np to Jerry Hannigan's for soap kA oaadles," 

" Ay, bat that's not troe, beoanse I know you're goin' to join die 
divil i but, no matther— .go there— yooTIl have his blessin' an; how, 
end it's long since he gave it to yon— wld his left hand. I wish I 
want yonr son— bnt no matther, no matthen" 

She then peeped ont to see that the ooast waa dear, and finding 
that all was safe, die tnmed her steps hurriedly and stealthily, in ft 
direction leading from, instead of to. Castle Cumber. When die wa« 
gone, Baymond immediately dosed and boiled the door, and begtin as 
before, to spring up in the air in a most singular and naaeeountftUe 
manner. The glee, however, whidi became apparent on Us oouBte> 
nanoe, had an expression of fiuodty that waa fr^;htiU ) his eym 
Reamed with fire, his nostrils expanded, and a glare of terriUe 
triumph lit up every feature with aometiiiog (A » lurid light 

" Ha, ha I" he ezdumed, addressiD^ as some imaglnaiy individwiV 



an old pillow which he caught up ) "I have yon at last — now, now, 
now ; ha, 70a have a throat, have you ? I feel it nov, now now ! Aj, 
tliat will do ; hoo, hoo — out with it, out with it } I see the tip of it 
only, but you must give betther measure ; ay, that^s like iL Hee, 
hee, hee I Oh, there — that same toogne never did yon good, nor any 
body else good — and what blessed eyes you have 1 they'er comin' out 
too, by degrees, as the lawyers goes to heaven. Now 1 now ! now ^ 
ay, whore's yonr stnigglin' gone to ? It's little youll make of it ia 
Raymond^ iron Angers — Halloo, this is for white-bead, and while 
bead's — poor little white-head's-^father, and for poor little while- 
head's mother, and this — ay, the froth's comin' now, now, now — and 
tbia last's for poor Mary H'Longhliii 1 Eh, ho, ho 1 There now^ 
settled a/L lost, with your sweet grin upon you, and your tongue out, 
as if you were makin' fun of me — for a beauty you were, and a beauty 
you are, and there I lave you 1" 

"Wliile uttering these words, he went througb, with violent geslicU' 
tadon, the whole coarse and form of physical action that he deemed 
necessary to the act of slnngling worthy Fhil, whose graceful eidolon 
was receiving at bis hands this unpkasant specimen of the pressure 
from without. He bad one knee on the ground, his huge arms 
moving with muscular eneigy,ae he crushed and compressed thie pillow 
until the very veins of his forehead stood out nearly black with the 
force at onoe of hatred and exertion. Having thus wrougbt out bis 
vengeance to his own satisfaction, he once more, in imagination, 
transformed the pillow into his little white-head, as he loved to call 
him i and assumed a very different aspect from that which marked 
the strangulation scene j ust described. 

" Come here," said he — taking it up tenderly in hia arms—" etme 
here— -don't be afeared now ; there's itpbody that can do you any 
barm- Ah 1 my poor white-head — don't you want your mother to 
keep up your poor sick head, and to lay your poor pale face against 
her breast ? And your father — you would like to get upon his knee 
and climb up to kiss him— wouldn't you, whitehead? Te^ he says 
he would — white-head says be would — and tell me, sure I have the 
cock for you still ; and if you want a drink I have something better 
than the bog wather for yoo — ^tbe sickening bog wather I Oh 1 the 
poor pale face— and the poor sickly ey^— up in the could mountuns, 
and no one to think aboiit yon, or to give you comfort I Whisht now 
— be good — och, why do I say that, poor white-bead — for sure yon 
were always good 1 Well wait~-bog wather — ah, no — but wait here 
■^-or COOK wid me — I wont lay you down, for I love you, my pow 


white-lieul ; but come, and jou most haTO it. Hy motbei^B. gone 
out— 4Uid she's not good ; bnt 7011 must hare it." 

He rose, still holding the pillow like a child in his anas, and going 
over to a cnpboard, took fnxn it ajugof milk, and bo completely was 
he borne away by the force of his imagiiiatioa, that he aotvidlT poured 
a portion of the milk upon the pillow. 

The act seemed for a moment to dispel the illnsiMi— hut onlj for a 
moDtent t the benevolent heart of the poor creature seemed to take 
delight in these homane renuniscenoes ; and, almost immediately, be 
was prooeeding with his simple, but tooching little drama. 

" WeQ," said he, "thafs better than could bog wather; how would 
the rich like to see their sick childre put on could wather and could 
piatees P Bnt who cares about the rich, for the rich doesn't care 
about has ; but no matter, white-bead — if yon^ only jist open your 
eyesaadspake tome, ni give you the cook." He gave a peculiar call 
•s he spoke, that was perfectly well known to the bird in qoestion, 
which immediately fleif from tbe-roost, and went ap to him } Raymond 
then gently Iflid the pillow. down, and taking the oock up» put hiB 
head under oae td his wings, and' {daced him on .the pillow where he 
lay quietly, as if asleep. Fm* many -minutes he>ept his eyes fixed 
upon the objects before him, mitil the image in his mind, growing sUU 
stronger and more distinct, became at last ao painful that he burst 
into tears. 

"No," said he, "be will never opeb his ^es aguu ; he will never 
look upon any one more ; and what will she do when she hasn't his 
white head before her ?" 

Whilst poor JIaymond thus indulged himself in the caprices ot a, 
benevolent imagination, his mother was hastening to the house of Hr. 
Hickman, the former agent of the Castle Cumber pn:^>erty, with the 
' intention of rendering an act of justice to an individual and a family 
whom she had aasisted deefdyand cruelly to injure. Whilst she is on 
the way, however, we will take the liberty of introducing our readers 
to Hr. Hickman's dining-room, where a small party are aseembled i 
consisting of the host himself, Hr. Easel the artist, Hr. Harmafli and 
the Bev, Ur. Clement : and u their conversation bears upon the topic 
of which we write, we trust it may not be considered intruding upon 
private society to detail a part of it, 

"Properly in this country," said Hickman, "is surrounded by 
many difficulties — difficulties which unfortunately foil chiefly upon 
those who cultivate it In the first place,' there is the neglect <J the 
landlord ; in the next, the positive oppression of either himself or hfa 


Mi TALtRtdn H^CLDTCnr, 

■gent ( in Uw third, the isflaanoe of itroag pwtj feeling — lesnlng 
too heftvily os one dasa, and Bparing or indol^ng another { and, per- 
hqw, what is wont of all, and maj be oonaidered the /our at origo 
maloritM, tha aboenoa oF any principle poaMaaiBg ohqw or fwm, or 
that can be recognised as a salutary dntj (m the part d the landlord. 
Tliia is the great want and the great eriL Iliere ihonld be a dis- 
tinct prindple to gtddet to stfautdate^ and wliea neceoaiy to restrain 
faim t aoob a prfneiide w mnld prevent him from managing his pto- 
perty aoending to the inHiM&ae of his passions, hiM invjndices, or bis 

" That Is very tmei" said ICr. Clement, " and there is anolber 
do^ which a landlord owes to those who reside npmt bis pr o per^ , 
btit one which onfortnnately Is not recognised as euoh t I neas a 
nsoral daty. In my opinion a landksd shonld be an eacaaple of 
moral iwopriety and modenrtkn to bis tenantry, so as that the in- 
fluence of his ocxtdoet might make a ealntary impression opcm tbeir 
1It«s and prln(didea#— At present the landed Proprietor of Ireland 
find in the ooontry no tribonal by which they are to be jadged j a 
flwt which j^Tce them the fall popsossJonof nnlfanited aathority j end we 
all know that the atiaence c^ re^xmriUli^ Is a great locentlTe to 
oiime. Ko nan in a fnt eo nntry abonld be inrested with azUtnu7 
power I and yet, it is undeniable that an Irish landksd can exerd^a 
it whenever he pleases." 

Then what would yon do," said Easel ( " whasv la yoor remedy P* 

" Let there be protective laws enacted, which wiU secure Uie tenant 
fron the oppression and injustice of the landloitL Let him not Ik^ 
as he does, at the man^ of his c^trioes, pasauxu or pr^adieea." 

"In other word^" said Harmait, "set thewdvestoftmnpnttectiTa 
enactments for tlie sheep. I fear, my good, sir, that audi anheme ia 
much too Uto^an for any practioally benefldal purpoee. Ia the 
mean time, if it can be done, let it. So lagislktion, however, wlU be 
able, 1b n^ mind, to tnnd so powerful a ohus as the htn^ords of 
Ireland are, unleat a strong and sturdy public o^nioa is created in 

"But bow is this to ba done 7* aaked BaaeL 

** It ia to be done by edneadng the people ; by teachbig them their 
proper value in society ; bf instmottng them in their mocal and dvil 
duties. Let than not laboor under that hamiliating and slavish 
(ROT, that the landkcd ia everylhinj^ and themselves oathing i but 
let the absurdly ba removed, and each party placed upon the bMia 
•f a just and equal prindple." 

Dcinzedoy Google 

THE DtHH iGEHT. ^gg 

"It b rer^ right," said Htckman, "to educata the people, bat vbo 
b to edncate tbe landlords 7" 

"A heavy toak, I fear," said Easel, •• frmn what Z bare obaerred 
■inee I came to Ote oonntry- 

" The public of^ion I epeak of will force them into a knowledge 
of their duties. At preeent they dier^ard public opinion, becanw 
it ifl too feeble to influence them; and, conaeqoently, they feel 
Bother fiear nor shame. So long as the iandkirds and the peopI« 
come tt^ether as oppoeing or antithetical prineiplea, it ia not to be 
■opposed that the country can prosper." 

" But how will you guide <x restrain the landlord in eatimating 
the Talne vt his proper^ ?" inquind Mr. Clement. " Hera are two 
brothen, for Instance, each posnaaed of landed property { one ia 
hnmane and moderate, guided both by good sense and good feeli^ i 
this man win not overburthen his tenant by ■•'"f^g an oppresaive 
rent The other, howerer, is precisely the reverse o( h^ being 
naturally dther r^iadons or profligate, or perhaps both; he con- 
fers it his HMj to take as nrach out of the soil as he can, without 
ever thinking of the hardships which he inflicts Upon tbe tenant. 
2?ow, how wonld yon remedy thi^ and prevent tbe tenant &on be- 
coming ib» victim either ci his r^iaeity or pndigacy ?" 

" Bimply by taking ftom Wm all authorily in estimatbg the Talne 
of bis own prt^terty." 

"But how 7" e^ Clement; "Is not that an invasion of private 

"No; It is notiiing more than a prindple which tnuufers an 
unsafe privilege to other hands, in order to prevent its abuse." 
" But how would yon vahie land ?" 

« I am not at this moment about to legislate for it t but I think, 
>however, that it would be by no means difficult to find machinery 
sofflbiently rimple and efifactive for the porpose. I am clearly of 
ofunion that there dwnU be a maximum valoe on all land, beyond 
vhKb, milees for special pnrpose»— such, for instance, as biwlding 
^no landlord ought to be permitted to go. This would prQveot an 
incredible amount of raok-renting and oppression on tile one hand ; 
and of poverty, nve&ge, and bloodshed on the otiieT. Wliere is tbe 
landlord sow who looks to tbe moral ohantcter or industrial habits »( 
a tenant F Scarcely one. On the ocmtnuy, whoever Inds highest, or 
bribn b%beet, Is sore to be suoceasful, wlthont any reference to the 
vwy qualitice which, in a tenant, ought to be considered as of most 

r^cinzedoy Google 


<* I bare now," said Easel, " made myself acqtuunted with the omi- 
diUon and mBOBgement of the Castle Comber property ; and, truth 
to t«1t, I am not surprised at the frightful state of socie^ npon it. 
M'Clntchy is the type t^ too nomeroas a claai, and his son is a moat 
consummate ecoobdieL Why my— why Lord Comber should have 
lytpointed him to his agency I cannot Jougine." 

" Bnt X cam," a^d Harman ; " that which has ajqioinled many 
a acoondrel like him— necessity on the port of the landlord, and an 
anxiety to extend bis political infloeoce in the coon^." 

" He coold not have gone a more onsocceasfal way aboot it, how- 
erer," observed Easel. 

" If there be one corse," observed Harman, " worae than another 
on any soch property, it is to have for your agent an ootrageoos 
partisan — a man who is friendly to one party aod inimical to another 
—a fellow who scroplea not to avul himself of his position, for the 
gratification of party rancoor, and who makes the performance of 
his duties sobeervient to bis pr^odices, both religious and politicaL 
Think, for instance, of a rsncorons No-Popery-man being mada 
agent to an estate where the m^ority of the tenantiy are Catholics." 

" As is die case on the Castle Comber estate," smd EaseL 

" And as is the case on too many estates throoghoot the conntry," 
added Harman j " bot the troth is, that oulesa something is done 
soon to redress the local grievances of the people, there will, I Jear, 
be bad work among os ere long. The tenantry are already in a state 
of tmnnlt ; they assemble on Sundays in viodictive-looking and sos- 
picioQS groops ; they whisper together, as if franght with soma 
secret porposea ; and I am also told that they freqoently hold nighUy 
meetings to deliberate on what may be done. Between the 
M'Clatchys and M'Slimes, I most say they have ample cause for 

"Every thing ccmriderdd," said Easel, " it is better that we shoold 
anticipate them. When I say we, you of coorae know who I mean ; 
bot indeed we shall expect every aid, and it will be wehxane, no 
matter firam what quarter it comes." 

" H'Clatchy and the estate in qoestion are topics on which I wish 
not to Speak," s^d Hickman ; "I do not blame Lord Comber for 
diamis^g me, Hr. Easel, the fact being that I dismissed myself ; but 
I most sincerely hope and trust, for the sake of the people, that some 
change for the better may take place. Good God, sir, bow popular 
your — how popolar Lord Camber might become, and what a Messiiig 
to his teoaotry and his country he might be in a short tine." 


THE miStl AGENT. ses 

" I reel tiiat, Mr. Hickman," said Basel, "I feel it now, becatue I 
know it. In this instance, too, I trust that knowledge will be power* 
Lord Cumber, sir, like other Irish lordB, has nothing to detun him 
in his native country bat his own virtne. His absence, however, and 
the abeenoe of his class in general, is, I iear" — and he smiled as be 
spoke — " a proof that bis virtne, as an Irish nobleman, and theirs, is 
not sufficiently strong to resist the temptations of an English court, 
and all its frivolous, expensive, and fashionaUe haUts. He has now 
BO duty as an Irish peer to render his residence in Ireland, at least 
for a considerable portion of the year, a matter of necessity to hia 
class and his country. However, let us not despair — I have reason 
to think that bis brother has nearly succeeded in bringing him to a 
sense of hb dn^ ; and it is not impossible that the aspect of ifRurs 
may be soon changed upon bis estatd." 

" The sooner the better for the the sake of the people,* s)ud 
Harman. "By the by, Mi'. Clement, are you to be one of the 
reverend gladiators in this controversial tourney, which is abont to 
take place in Castle Cumber ?" 

" No," said Mr. Clement ; " I look upon such exhibitions as mani- 
festations of fanaticism, or bigotry, and generally of both. They are, 
in fact, productive of no earthly good, but of much lamentable evil ; 
for instead of inculcating brotheriy love, kindness^ and chari^— they 
inflame the worst passions of adverse creeds — eng^ider hatred, 
ill will, and fill the public mind with tboBO narrow principles which 
disturb social harmony, and poison onr moral feelings in the very 
fountain of the heart. I believe there is no instance on record of a 
rincere convert having been made by such discnssioos." 

"But is there not an extensive system of conversion proceeding, 
called the Kew BeformationP" asked EaseL "It appears to me 
by the papers, that the Roman Catholic populadoa are embracing 
Protestantism by hundreds," 

"How little are the true causes of great events known," said 
Hickman, laughing; "who, for instance, would suppose that the 
great spiritual principle by which this important movement has been 
sustained is the failure of the potato crop in this country, wh^« this 
gracious work is proceeding. One would think, if everything said 
were true, that there are epidemics in religion as well as in disease ; 
hut the tmtb is, that the knavery or distress of two or three 
Catholics who were relieved, when in a state of famine, by a benevo- 
lent and kind-hearted nobleman, who certainly would encourage 
neither dishonesty nor imposture, first set this ReformatloD a going 

L,, „.,..,.GoogIc 

W8 yalmmke w'clutcbt, 

Tbe peraons I speak of, fbaring that hi> Ixndahip'a beneTolencs 
might oeose to oontinne, tmbnoed Froteetantiom pro forma aod pr* 
Umpore. This went abroad, uid almoat immediately all who were in 
orenaiBtnncea of eimilar destitution adiqtted the same coarse, and 
nevvr did man pay more dearly for evangelical trath than did hii 
Lordship. In the forthcoming battle the parsons are to prove to the 
world that all who beUmg to Fopery mnst be danmed, whilst the 
priests, on the other hand, broil the parsons until they blase in their 
own tat. Bat, my Gtod, when will charity and common sense prevHil 
over Ingotry and tffimstone 1" 

At this moment a servant entered to amy that Poll Doglin — ^fbr slie 
was wall known— wished to eee Mr. Harman on very particnUr 

" I can scarcely bear to look on the wretch," said Hannan i "bnt, 
as I strongly suspect that she may, in some shape, be osefDl to as, I 
desired her to come here. She called tliree times npoo me, bat 
Z coald not bring myself to aee ca speak to ber ; ahe ahall be the 
bearer of no messages to me," he said, bitterly, " let her carry them 
elsewhere ; d — n her." 

He betrayed deep and powerful emotion as be spoke, bu^ as his 
aUouons were nnderstood, there was — from g respect for his feelings 
on the part of his audience — no reply made to his observations. 

" Since she called fint," eud Hannan, pnraning the train of 
uelaneholy thought, " some vsgae potion, like the shadow of a dream 
crossed me ; bat alas ! it is transgressing the bounds of imagination 
itself, even sappose that it could be true. However, if it were^ it is 
in your preseoce, sir," he sud, addressing himself to Easel, " that 
I should wish to have it detailed ; and, perhaps, afler aU this slight, 
bat latent reflecti(ffi of hope, influenced me in desiring her to come 
here. Gentlemen, excuse me," said he, covering his face with his 
hands, "I am very wretched and uahappy — I eannot oooount for 
what has occurred i it looks like ao impoBBibilily, but it ia true. Ob. 
if he were a man I bat, no, no, you all know how contemptible— 
what a dastardly scoundrel he is I" 

" Harman, my dear fellow," s^ Hickman, " we understand yon, 
we reqteot yonr feelings, and we qrmpathizc with you ; but, in the 
mean time, do see and hear tliis woman." 

He had scarcely uttered the words when the servant entered, 
stating that she was at the door. 

" Z^et her come in," said Harman ; " let the vile wretch come in." 
" And, do you, John, withdraw," said Hickman. 



PoQ Dbolin enlered. 

Her Kpfemaw threw Hanntn into ft state of violent agilaUon i 
he trembled, got pale^ ind geoaed abaolatel; aiokened by the pTeaenoe 
of the wicked wretch who htd been the vile instrnmsnt of Fhil 
M'ClntchT'i success, of ISmxj Ulioighlin'i diahononr, and of his 
own nnhsppioess. It wss the paleneas, however, of indignatioDi of 
distrefls, of miseiy, of despair. His blood, debits the paleness of his 
face, abBoJntely boiled in his veins^ and that the more hotly, because 
be had no ol^ect on which he could wreak his vengeance. Foil, 
who was always cool, and not withoot conBideniUe powers of obsta^ 
TatiiMi, at once noticed the tuniult of his feelings, and, as if replug 
to them, said — 

" I don't blame you, Ur. Hannan, thinkin' as you do t the sight 
of me is not pleasant to you ; and, indeed, you don't hate me more 
than yoa ought." 

" What's your bosiness ivith me P' said Herman. 

Poll looked aronnd her for a moment, and replied— 

" I'm glad of it; the more the better i Francis Harman," she pro- 
ceeded, "sit down, and listen to me} yes, listen to flw, for I have it 
in my power to make you a happy man." 

" Great God I could my dream be true I" said Harman, pladng 
bimself in the cbair. 

** Listen to me," she continued. 

" I listen ; be brief, for I am in no humour for either falsehood or 

"IneTer bore jww ill will," she said, "and yet I have— and may 
God forgive me for it— scalded the very heart within you." 

Harman again covered his face with his hands, and groaned. 

" Will it relieve your heart to know that Mary Mlxmgblin's an 
innocent and a slandered girl ?" 

" Prove that," said Harman, starting to his feet ; " oh, prove that, 
Poll, and never whilst I have life shall yon want a — ^bnt, alas I" he 
exclaimed, " I am a beggar, and can prtMnise yon nothing." 

" And 111 tell you who beggared yon before all is over ; but, as I 
«dd before^ listen. Ifs now fifteen yean since Brian Mlionghlin, 
trani^Kirted my scm Dick, for stcalin' a horse from him i he was sty 
only eon, bairin' poor Bayroond, who was then a mere slip. He was 
a fine yofuig man, but he was wild and wicked, and it was in Squire 
Beaker's house, and about Sqnire Deaker's etables, tbat he picked up 
his dishones^, and love of horses- -he was groom to that ould pro- 
fligate, who took him into sarvice for a ruson he had." 


" Be u brief aa you can," swd Harman, " brief— brief," ' 
" On the contmiy, Mr, H&nnaa," mid Clement, "let her, if you 
will he advised by me, take her own time, and her own way." 

"Thank yon, ur," sud PoU, "thafs juat what I with. Well, he, 
H'l^ughlin, transported my boy, that my heart was in, and frrnn 
that minnte I swore never to die till Pd revenge that act opon hiuL 
Very well ; I kept my Word. Phil M'Clntchy sent for me, and, in 
his father's presence, we made up a plot to disgrace Miss Hlionghlin. 
I brought her ont two or three times to meet me privately, and it was 
all on your account^ 1^ the way, for I tould her yon were in danger; 
and I so contrived it, that on one or two occasions yon should see 
myself and her together. I made her promise solemnly not to teU 
that she saw me, or mention what passed between ns, or if she did, 
tliat your life was not safe i her love for yon, k^t her silent, even to 
yourself. Bat it was when you were sent to. gaol, that we found we 
bad the best opportunity of ruining lier, which was all I wanted { 
but Phil, the boy, wished to give yon a stab as well as her. As for 
myself^ it was in for a penny, in for a pound with me, and I didn't 
care a thraneen what yoii suffered, provided I had my revenge 
on any one belongin' to Brian M'Loughlin, that transported my son." 
"Is Ifary M'l^oaghlin innocent?" asked Harman, starting from 
hia seat, and placing his face within a few inches of Foil DooUn's. 
Poll calmly put her hand upon his shoulder, and said — 
" Sit down, young man ; don't disturb or stop me in wliat I'm 
sayin', and youll come the sooner at the truth." 

" Yea are right," he re^dJed i " bat who cab blame me ? my hap- 
piness depends on it." 

" Listen," said she ; " we made up a plao that she was to meet 
Phil behind her father's garden t and why ? Why, because I told 
h«t that Tal had made np his mind to hang you ; but I said that 
Phil, for her sake, could prevent that, and save yon, if she would 
only see him that be might clear himself of some reports that had 
gene abroad on him. For your salu she consented to that ; but not 
until I had brought her nearly to despair, and till she believed that 
there was no other hope for you. It was Val H'CIolchy, though, 
that put me up to bring several of the neighbours, and among the 
rest your own cousin, to witness the trick of Phil's gettin' in at the 
windy ; u it was his to bring the blood-hounds, at the very minute 
to catch the scoundrel in the poor girl's bed-room. That was enough 
all the wather in the lay couldn't wa«h her white, when this wae 
given to the tongue of scandal to work upon." 


raS 1SI8U AGBHT. M» 

*<Bat|"Mid Mr, Clement, "you unfortunate woman, let me aak, 
why yoa auSbied Mr. Hannaa to Uto under a conriction of Mia 
M'LoDgUin's gnUt." 

" I lonld you I liad Bw<mi to be revenged on either him (M'Loughlin) 
or hia { and bo I was-^nay God forgive me ! — ^but one day that my 
poor fooliah son oudertook to convoy Hn^ Roe O'Regan's wife 
across the ford of Urmndhu river while in flood, he lost his foodng, 
and never would breathe tire breath of life agin, only that God sent 
John M'Loughlin to the spot, and, at the risk of his own life, be saved 
poor Raymond's. From that day out my heart changed. If one son 
was sent firtoa me in life, the other was saved from death ; and I 
■wore to tell i/ou the truth. But thafa not the only injury I have 
done you. They put me up, and so did Solomon M'Slime, to drop 
bints wherever I wen^ that you and Mr. M'Loughlin were upon the 
point of failin' ; and, T believe, from some words I beard Phil say 
to Solomon one momii^ that they put something into the newspaper 
that iajored yoo." 

" What was it yon beard ?" said Hickman. 

" Phil said — < all right, Solomon, it's in s and d — n my honour and 
repntatxiD it will set a screw loose in the same firm :' be was reading 
the paper as be spoke." 

" All this ia of great value," said Eaael, " and must be made use off 
" As for m^" said Uarman in an impassioned voice, " I care not a 
jot for oQr bankruptcy ; the great and oppressive evil of my heart is 
removed { I ought, I admit, to have known that admirable girl better 
than to aufibr any suspicion of her to have entered into my heart ; 
but, then, I most have discredited my own eyes ; and so I ofigbt. 
God bless you. Poll I I forgive you all that you and these malignant 
villauiB have made me aufier, in consequence of what you have just 
now disclwed to us." 

" I could not have believed tbisi" observed Easel ; " I scarcely 
thought that auch profound Infamy waa in human nature. Good 
God I and these two men hold the important offices of Head and 
Under Agent on the CasUe Cumber estate." 

" Have you nothing particular, Poll, about that pious little man 
M'Slime ?" asked Hifhnmn. PoU, however, who in no instance was 
ever known to abuse professional confidence, shook her head in tla 

" No i" said she, " I know nothing that I can tell about him t 
bonoor bright's my modve-^io — no. However, thank God Tva 
aisad my mind br teflin' the truth, atid when you see Mr. M'Lougldii^ 

3 B 



Hr. Hannaii, FU thank you to let him know that I have done fcit 
daaghter jnstjce, and that from the minate his son saved mine, I had 
no ill will to him or hia famDy." She then departed. 





It is undoubtedly a fact, as vas observed in the dialogne just given) 
that the state of affiurs on this property was absolutely fearfuL The 
frame-work of society was nearly broken up, for sach was the heartleas 
r^wcity and cruelty— such the multiplied and ingenious devices by 
which Yal harassed and robbed the tenantry, or wreaked his personal 
vengeance on all who were obnoxioue to him or his son, that it was 
actually impoasible matters could proceed mnch Imiger in a pe*eeaMe 
state. If the reader will acctmipany us to a large waste boose, frtan 
which a man had been some time before ejected, merely because ha 
had a pique against him, he may gather irom the lipCi of the peoj^ 
themselves, there assembled, on the very night in qneation, sofficieirtly 
clear qmptoma of the state of ieeling in the neighbourhood. 

The hour at wMch they assembled, or rather began to assemble^ 
was eleven o'clock, from which period until twelve, they came in obbII 
groups of two or three at a time ; so aa to avoid observation <m the 
way. Some of them had their faces Uaokeoed, and others who 
appeared utterly indifferent to consequences, did not think ib worth 
their while to assume such a disguise. The waste bouse in which 
they were assembled, stood on a hill side, about half way between 
Castle Cumber and Drumdhu ; so that Ha isolated situation was an 
additional proof of their security from a surprise by the blood-hounds. 
The party were nearly all aimed, each with such weapons as he could 
get, and most of them with fire or side arms, such as they wei«. 
Thc^ had several lights, but so cautions were they, that quilts and 
winnow-cloths were brongbt to hang over die windows, to prevent 
them frcHU being seen ; for it was well known that the house was not 
lahabiLed, and the appearance of lights in it would nwst certain^ 


TBI miSH AGEHT. 971 

wnd the wreckers on their back: as it *as, however, they obviated 
all dansjw of this in the way I mention. When these men were met 
together, it might be snpposed that they presented conntenancet 
marked by savage and ferodons passions, and tliat atroci^ and 
«niel^ were the predominating tnuts in each Due. lliis, however, 
was not so. In general they were jut aa any other nundwr of mes 
tmught together for any purpose might be. Some to be sore among 
ttem betrayed strong indications of animal impulse} but taken 
t<^ether they looked just as I say. When they were all nearly 
assemUed, one might natarally imagine that the nsual animated 
diah^ne and discnaskuu, wluch the eanee that brought them t(^;ether 
furnished, would have taken jdace. This, however, was not the case. 
On the contrary, there was something singularly wild, solemn and 
dreadful, in their comparative quietness ; for silence ne could not 
absolutely term it. 

There were manyreasena for this. In the first place, there existed 
an i^iprebeDskm of the yeomanry and cavalry, who bad <» marB thaa 
one occasion surprised or dispersed meetings of this description before. 
"Til true they had Mntioels pUoed — bat the sentinels themsdves had 
been made prisoners td by parties of yeomen and blood^hounds, who 
had come in coloured clothes, in twos and threes, like the Sibbonmen 
themselveB. TIkko wen «tber motives, however, for the stiUnesa 
wbich prevailed— ^notivee whidi, when we consuler them, invest the 
whole proceedings with something that is calculated to All the mind 
with apprehennon and fear. Hen wan men nnqnestionably assem- 
bled for illegal purposes— for the perpemtiaa of crime — for the 
shedding of human blood< But in what light did they view this 
terrible determination P Simply as a redress of grievances ; as the 
only means left them of doing that for themselves, which the laws 
reiiised to do for them. They keenly and bitterly felt the seouige of 
the oppressor, who, under the sanction, and in the name of those laws 
wliidt ought to have protected them, hit scarcely anything undone 
to drive them to desperation ; and now finding that the law existed 
only for their punishment, they resolved to legislate for themselves, 
and retaliate on their oppressor. There is an awful lesson in all this; 
for it is certainly a frightful thing to see law and justice so partially 
and iniquitously administered as to disoi^janise sode^, and make 
men look upon murder as an act of justice, and the shedding of blood 
as a mors] triumph, if not a moral virtue. When, therefore, the very 
little conversation which took place among them, and that little in a* 
low k tone, is placed in connection with the dark and deadly otgect 

372 VAI.EMTrxE H'CLUT(Trf, 

of their meeting, it is no wonder that one cannot belp feeling itnmgetf 

and feaifullj on contemplating it. 
About twelve o'clock they were all assembled bnt one indiTidoi^ 

whom they appeared to expect, and for whom tliey looked out eagerij. 

Indeed thejr all came to an tmanimous resolution of doing nothing 

that pertained to the business of the night, until he should oatne. 

For this purpose they had not to wait long. A little past twelve a tall 
and powerful young man entered, leading by the hand poor inaaM 
iSatj (yRegan — his pitiable and unconscious mother. He had heard 
of the death of his brother, during the crud scene at Drumdhu, and 
of the other inhuman outrage which had driren her mad. He had 
come from a remote part of England with the singly flxed, and 
irrevocable purpose of trreaking vengeance on tbe bead of him who 
had brought madness, desolation and death upon his familj. 

On bis entering, there waa a alight low murmur of approbatioa ; 
but tbe appearance of bis mother caused it to die away. This, 
however, was almost immediately succeeded l^ another of a very 
different character — one in which there was a blending of many 
feelings — compftssion, rage, revenge. The first thing the young man 
did was to take a candle in his hand, and hold it first cloee to bii 
mother, so as that she might be distinctly seen, and afterwards, near 
to his own face, in order ^at she might have a clear and equally 
distinct view of him. "Mother," said he then, in a full vwce, "da 
you know your son ?' Her eye was upon him as he spoke, but it waa 
vacant ; there appeared no trace of recognition or meaiung in iL 

" You all see that miserable sight," said he — " there my mother 
stands, and doesn't know who it is that is spaking to her. There she 
Blaods, blasted and destroyed by the oppressor. You all see tbia 
heartbreakin* sight with your own eyes, and you all know who 
did it." 

Tis singnlas how closely virtue and crime are allied I The veiy 
sympathy excited by this toaching and melanoboly spectacle — tbe 
very tenderness of the compassion that was felt for tbe moQier and 
•on, hardened the heart in a different sense, and stimulated them U> 

" Now," said the yonng man, whose name was Owen, " let them 
that have been oppressed and harrisbed by this Vulture, state their 
grievances, one at a time." 

An old man near sixty rose up, and after two or three attempts to 
speak, was overpowered by his feelings and burst into tears. 

^ Poor Jemmy Devlin t" they exobumed, " may God pity you 1" 

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~ * Spake for Jemmy, acune of yon, u the pocff follow isn't able U 
Kptke for bumelf." 

" Why, die cue was this," nid a neighbour of the poor maa'a, 
« Jemmy's acm, Peter wu abiued by Phil, the boy, because he diA'at, 
psy h™ (fwfy-mn-i, and neglect his own hurest. He told Peter HM 
be was a popish rebel and would be hanged. Fetor lold bim to hia 
teeth HuA he was a liar, mi that he couldn't be good, haTin'tfae ftther'i 
bastard dhrop in bim. That was very well, but one night in about » 
month tfterwarda, the house waa surrounded by the blood-boauds, 
poor Fatet's do'es searched, and some Bibbon papers found in them ; 
tb^ also got» or piretended to get other papers in the thatch of the 
hoase. The boy was dragged out of his bed, sent to gaol, tried, 
finmd guilty on the evidence of the l^ood-bounds, and sentenced to 
be flogged three times ; but he nerer was fiogged a third time, for ha 
died on the fourth day after the second flo^ng ; and so, bein' an only 
son— indeed all the child the poor couple had — the old man is now 
childless and distracted, God help him 1" 

" Very well," exclaimed Owen, bitterly — " very well — who next ?" 

A man named M'Mahon rose up, — " The curse of the Almighty 
God m^ for ever rest upon him 1" ho exclaimed. " He transported 
my two sons, because th^ wer6 Whiteboys ; and if they were, 
who made them Whiteboys but himself and his cruelty? J will never 
see my dariing sontf faces agun, but if I die without settliu' accounts 
wid him, may I never know happiness here or hereafter !" 

The usual mnrmer of commiseration followed this. 

** Well," said Owen, " whose turn comes next ?" 

About a dozeo of those who had been turned out of Drumdhn now 
stood up. 

" We were tamed out," said one of them, who acted as spokesman, 
" Ml cme of the bittherest days that ever God sent on the earth ; out 
of ahame, I believe, because your brother and onld Mary Casey died, 
he let us back for a few days, but after that we hod to flit. Some of 
the houses he had polled down, and then he had to build them again 
for his voters. Oh, if it was only known what ive inffered I" 

" And why did be turn you out ?" 

" Why, because we didn't promise to vote as he wished." 

" fie took my or<^" said another, "at his own valuation, drew it 
bome, and stacked it nnUt the market rose. I know what he got 
beyond the rent," proceeded the man, " b^t divil a rap ever the 
viilian gave me back of the surplus, but put it in hb pocket — and 
now I and my family are starving." 

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" Ay, Mid," said another, " he took five firkins of u good batter 
from me u ever was made by hand, and at hia own price too. "What 
eouldldo? — he taid it was aa a friend he did it; but if I objected to 
h, he aaid he miwt only seize. May the devil aein him, at any nte, 
aa he will, the villain, I trnet in God! He got, to my own knowledge, 
thirteea penee ft pgnnd for it, and all ha allowed me for it waa eight 
pence ludfpensy. Hay the devil run an angre through him, or baMe 
hie BOwltrid it, Qaa vSigfiX i fbrof all the viUkina that ever cnnedaa 
estate^ he's the grea^l — barria' the sconiulrel that employs him." 
A poor bat decent-ft>Mdng man roais i^i^ 

> I could beai-," Bittd he^ <■ his cheatia^ or Bis de&aodiag me oat«f 
ray-right'-:^! cottld bear thal^ altbOogh i^ bad enoogh too ; bat wh^ 
I tiiink of the shame aMfdiegneS' his um bionght upon my innocent 
girl, andhet his father's roof, vhere' she wfcs. at KrTie&— Jnay God 
enrseihim'this night! My child — my^ild — when Ithinkof what 
■liewaB,aiid what she IsrBurethe'thoaglitofit is enough to drive me 
distracted, and to break my heart Are we to live mdher mA mm? 
Ought we to allow sich vUhdiiB tb tramp ui nndher their feetP. . "WheB 
I apoke to his Uasted win aboat ndnfai' my child — f My good fdlow,' 
■ays he ' if yea don't keiap a. civil tongae in yam head, I will trot 
yon <^ the estate — I will send yoa to graae somewhere else. I^s 
d— d proud you ought to feal for your daagbter having a ohild by the 
Uke o* me ■/ — ^for that's the way — they first iignn na, and'ld^ na 
about OS they plaise, and then lau^ at and iuBolt ns." 
Anottier man got up. 

" Tou all know;" said he, " that I hoold fourteen acres in the 
townland of Aughaminchal ; and when Jerry Gr<^aB went to 
America lost spring, I offered fur his farm of twelve acres, that lay 
into my own. marchin it. I offered him the rent he axed, which 
indeed was too much at any rate — bat it 1^ eo snug to me, that I 
ooold take more oat of it than another. ' You shall have Ito &nn, 
Frank,' said he ; ' but if you do, there must be ten poonda of an 
ItignU.'* Well and good, I paid him ten pounds, andTadd;^ Gonnly.itf 
Anghodarragh, gave him anoUier Inyut for the same farm ; and yet, 
hell bellows the villain, he gave it to neither of us, but to one of his own 
Btood-kaumdt, who gave him twenty for it. But that wsant all — 
when I azsd him for my money, he laughs in my fltce, and lays, < la 
it jokin' yoa are ? Keep yourself quiet,' says he, ' or may be rU 
make it a black joke to you.' Hell raaave him t" 
* /npHt— a douceDr — or, in other wordf, a bribe'to the accBt, on eutorius 

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THI lEIsa AGENT. 970 

** He engaged me, and mj hone and car," said another i "and Toal 
Hart with hia, in the same wayj to draw stones from I^ilrndden; and 
lie sud that whaterer we earned he'd allow ns in the rint Of eoone 
we were glad to bounce at it i and, indeed, he made us both believe 
that it wB8 a faTOnr lie did ns. So far so good s but whan the rint 
dm; came, hell porahue the testher he'd allow ei(lieT of tie; bnt 
tfireatened and abused us, callin' oa names till the dt^ wouldn't lick 
our blood. The Lord conahume bim, for a neUmal villian I" 

« That^e all very well, but wait till 70a bear how he aarred me 
out," said a poor, simple looking creature. " It was at the gale d^ 
before the laa^ that I went to >iim wid m; aix guineas of rint. 
' Faddy Hanlon,' Bays he, ' Pm glad to see you ; an', Faddy Tve 
something in my eye for you i but don't be spakin' of ib Is that tbs 
rent ? — hand it to me — an'. Faddy, as this is Svrry Dt^ with m^^ 
do, like a good decent man, call down on Saturday about twelvs 
o'clock, and I'll give you your receipt, and mention the other thing.' 
By coorse I went, highly delighted i but the receipt he gave me wa^ 
a notice to pay the same gale over agii^ tellin' me beddee, tbat of all 
the c(Hnplat«et rascals ever came acrass him I was the greatest ; that 
h^d banish me off the estate, and what not I Accordingly I had to 
pay the same rint twiate. Now, will any one tall me how that man 
can prosper by robbii^ and oppresain' the poor in this way 7 Uell 
BCorch him 1" 

The next that rose was a tall, thin-looking man, witb much cape 
and aorrow in hia face. " Many a happy day," he said, " did I and 
mine spend under this roof ; and now we may say that we hardly 
have a roof to cover us. Uyael^ and my wife, honld a cabin on the 
estate of Major Bichardaon. My Bona and daughters, instead of 
living comfortably at home with ua, are now scattered abroad, eamin' 
their hard bread on other peoplc^s floors. And why ? Because the 
Vulture's profligate son couldn't aacceed in ruiuin* one of my 
daughters; and because Iier brother Tom tould him that if ever 
he catched him comin' about thp place again, or annoyin' his siatlier, 
he'd split him with a spade. Afther that, they were both very 
firiendly — ^&ther and son — and when I brought my half year's rent — 
'never mind now,' said they, 'bring it home, Andyj may be you 
may want it for something else that 'cd be naefnl to you. Buy a 
couple o' cows— or keep it tiU next rem day ; we wont hurry yoM — ■ 
you're a daoent man, and we respect you.' Well, I did put the money 
to other uaea, when what should come down on me when the next 
half year's rent was due, but an Bxecution. He got a man of hia 

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own to twetr that I was about to ran away wid tbe rent, and go to 
America ; and in a few days we were scattered, widont a house to 
oorer us. Hay the Ixnd reward him accordin' to his works I" 

There were other anprincipled cases where Phil's profligacy was 
Ivougfat to boar upon the poverty and destitution of the uneducated 
and onprotected female ; bat it is not onr intention to do more than 
allode to them. 

We new return to yoong O^RegRn himself, who, at the CDndosion, 
wux more got a candle, and preti»ely in the same manner ts he had 
done in the beginning held it np and ashed in a full firm toic^ 
"mother, do yon know yonr son?" And again received tbe same 
melancholy and imconscious gaze. 

* Now," said be, " you've oU heard an account, and a true account, 
of these two villains' conduct. What have they left undone ? . They 
have cheated you, ivbbed you, and oppressed you in every shape. 
They have scourged to death and traufported your sons — and they 
hare mined your daughters, and brought them to sin and abame — ■ 
sorrow and dietraction. What have they left undine, I ax again ? 
Haven't they treated yes like the dirt under their feetP hosted 
ye2 like blood-hounds, as they are — and as if ye were mad. dogs ? 
What is there that they haven't made yez . sufier ? Shame, sin, 
poverty, hardship, blood-shed, ruin, death, and madness ; look 
there" — he added, vehemently pointing to his insane mother — 
" tbere's one proof that you see ; and you've heard and know tbe 
rest And now for their trial" 

These blood-Btining observations were followed by a deep silence, 
' a silence, in fkct, like that of death. 

" Now," said he pulling out a paper, " I have marked down hero 
twelve names that I will read for you. They are to act as a jury j 
they are to thiy them both for their lives — and then to let na hear 
their sentence." 

He then read over tbe twelve oames, every man answering to his 
name as he caUed them out. 

" NoWj" he proceeded, "this b how you are to act ) your ulence 
will give consent to any question that is asked of you. Are you 
willin' that these twelve men should thry Valentine M'Clutchy and 
his son for their lives; and that the sentence is to be put in execution. 
mi them?* To this there was a profound iid ominous silence. 

" Tery weU," said he^ " you agree to this. Now," said be to tlie 
iurors, " find your sentence." 

Tbe men met t<^ther and whispered u the centre of the floor. 

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tvt a few ninntei — ^when be, wbo acted as Avemaii, tnmed toward' 
CfRegan and wd — " They're doomed." 

"To what death?" 

" To be both AoU" 

" Are 70a all saliBfied with this sentence ?" 

Another silence as deep and raminons as before. 

*■ Very weU," said be, " you all agree. As for the sentence it is a 
jnst one ; none of you n«ed tbronble yonrselves any (arther about 
tAatt yon may take my word for it, that it will be carried into 
exeontion. Are you willing it shotild P* 

For the third time an nnbr^nn silence. 

" Thaf s enough," said he ; " and now let^ns go quietly bomft." 

" It is not enough," sfud a Toice at the door ; " let none depart 
without my permiBsion, I command you ;" and the words were no 
sooner ottered than the venerable Fatlier Bocbe entered the house. 

" Wretebed and misguided men," said he, " to what a aoene <^ 
blood and crime hare I just now been an ear witness ? Are you men 
who live under my ministry ? — ^who have so often heard and attended 
to my sinoere and earnest admonitions ? I cannot think you are, utd 
yet, I see no fiaoe here that is unknown to me. Ob, think for a 
moment, reflect, if you can, upon what yon have been doing!— 
planning the brutal, ungodly murder of two of your iellow creatures! 
And what makes the crime stUl more revolting, these two feHow 
creatures Inther and son. Who constituted yon judges over them? 
If tbey have oppressed yon, and driven many of yon to ruin and 
distress, and even to madness, yet, do you not know that there is a 
just God above to whom they must be accountable for the deeds donft 
in the flesh? Are you to pot youTBelves in the place of the Almighty? 
to snatch the sceptre of justice and judgment out of his hands, and 
take that awful office into your onn, which belongs only to him? 
Are ye indeed mad, my fHends ? Do you not know that out <^ the 
multitude assembled here this moment there is not one of you whose 
life would not be justly forfeited to the law 7 not one. I paused at 
the half closed door before I entered, and was thus enabled to hear 
your awful, your gmlty, your blasphemous proceedings. Justice 
belcmgs to God, and in mocking jastice you mock the God of 

**Biit you don't know, Father Roche," said O'Began, **yon eoaldnt 
fanagine aU the villany he and his son have been guil^ of, and all 
tbqr'Te made the people sufibr." 

" I do know it too well 1 and these are grievances that Gtod in his 


own good time will remore ; bat it ia not for us to stain our Bonb 
with guilt in order to redress tlum. Now, my cluldreii, do jon 
believe that I feel an interest in your welfare here, and in four 
happiness heiWier ? Do yon beliere this ?" 

<* We do, ar i who feels for ns as you dof" 

"Well, then, will you give me a proof of this P" 

"Kame Il« mr j name it." 

" I know yon wiH," eontinued the old man ; " I know yon will 
Then, in the name of the merciful God, I implore, I entreat — and, 
if that will not do, then, as his servant, and the hnmlde minister at 
his word and will — I comma*d yoa to disavow the mitrderous 
purpose yon have oome to this nighL Heavenly FaUier," said he, 
locking op frith all the lervour of sublime pie^, " we entreat you to 
take £ram these nistsken men the wicked intention of imbruing their 
guilty hands in Uood ;' teach Hiem a clear sense of Christian dnty ; 
to love their vfii^ enemies t to forgive all injuries that may be 
inflicted on thetn i and to lead snch lives as may never be disturbed 
by a sense of guilt, or the ttHtons of remorse I" The tears flowed 
£ut down his aged cheeks as hs spoke, and his deep sobbings for 
some time prevented him Irom speaking. Those whom be addressed 
were touched, awakened, melted. He proceeded ; — 

" Take pity cm their condition, O Lord, and in thy own good time, 
if it be thy will, let their unhapi^ lot in this life be improvedl Bo^ 
shove all things, aoilen thdr hatita, inspire them with good and pious 
purposes, and guard them from the temptations of revenge 1 They 
are my flock— they are my children— and, aa anch, thou knowest 
4bow I love and feel fpr them I" 

They were more deeply move^i more dearly awakened, and more 
penetratingly tonched. Several sobs were heard towards the close of 
his pn^er, and a new spirit was diffused among them. 

"Now, my children," said he, "wil) you ob^ the old man that 

" We will," was the universal response, " we will obey you." 

" Tlien," sud he, "you promise in the presence of God that you 
will not injure Valentine M'Clutchy or his son." 

** In the presence of God we promise," was the unanimous reply. 

"Then, my children, may the blessing of the Almighty God 
be with yon, and guard and protect you wherever yon go. And 
pow proceed home, and deep with consciences nnburthened by 

And ttuis were Valentine U'Clutcby and liis iod saved, on tliis 


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THK IfilSn lOEXT. 379 

oooadoii) bj Qm very man whom they teimed ^' a pe6«WotM Popith 

It wu obMTved, howerer, hy inoet of thow who were preeent, that 
Omn 0'B«gan ftTsiled hinadf of the good priest^s remomtnnca to 
diMi^ear from tbe Meeting— <thiu evading tlie Bokmn obligatkii to 
refrain from erunet into which all the rest entflred. 




Thb development, by PAU Doolin, of the dutbolioal plot againil 
Hary M*Louglilin's character, bo SBCcepd^nlly carried into efieet by 
Phil and Pcdl herself, took a deodfy weij^t off Hannan'B heart. 
Mary, tbe following morning, little airare that foil jnilice had been 
rendered her, was sitting in tbe parlonr with her mother, wfio bad 
been compluning for a day or two of indx^oBitioOt and would bsm 
admitted more fnlly the aianniDg ^mptoBW she ff It,' were it not fof 
the declining health of. her' danghter. If there be one miiery iik lif% 
more calcnlated than another to wither and consume the "beact, to 
make society odious, man look like »,■ blot in the orention, and the 
very providenoe of GnA donbtful, it is to fiiel amtii- cbaraeter pnUicIy 
slandered and miBrcpresentedby the cowardly and mflignanl, by the 
aknlking seonn^l, |ind the moral ^ssaBsin — to' feel yoitnelf loaded 
with impntatiiHU that are lUs^ calnmnions, and 'cru6L Hiny 
M'Longhlin felt a|l this- bitterly in her heart; so bitterly, indeed, 
that all relish for life' bad departed from her. She was now spiiitles^ 
hopeleea, without aita or otgee^ or anything to sastain her, cot to gin 
interest to existence. Philosophy, which too cAen knows little about 
•ctoal life, tells us that a consciousness of being innocent of 'the 
social slanders that are heaped upon an individnal, is a principle that 
ought to suf^tort and console him. But the tmUi it, that this very 
consciousnesB of innocence is precisely the circtuutance which 
sharpens and poisons tbe arrow that pierces liim, and girea rancour 
to the wound. 

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On the morning in question, Mmtj tat hj her mother, who laj 
reclining on « sofit, each kindly attempting to conceal from the other 
the iUneM which ahe felt. Huy was pale, wasted, and dirnqni^t 
the mother, on the eontnrj, wu flnahed and f'^reriih. 

" I wish, mj dear mother," said she, " that y<m would jield to m 
and go to bed : yon are oertainlj worse than 70a wiah na to believe.* 

" It won't signify, Mary ; it's nothing bnt cold I got, and it will 
pass awaj. I think nothing of myself bnt it grieves my heart to see 
you look 60 ill J why don't yon strive to keep np yonr spirits, and to 
be what you need to be ? Bat God help yon, my poor child," she 
said, as the tears started to her eyes, "sure it's hard for yon to do ao>* 

" Uother," she replied, " it's hard for me ; I am every way sur- 
rounded with deep and hopeless affliction. I often wish that I could 
hty my head quietly in the grave ; but, then, I shonld wish to do eo 
with my name unstained ; and, on the other band, what is there that 
can bind me to life? I am not afraid of death, bnt I fear to die 
now t I know not, mother, what to do, I am very much to be pitied. 
Oh," she added, while the tears fell in torrents from her cheeks, 
*• after all, I feel that nothing but death can still the thonghte that 
disturb me, can release me from the anguish of heart tJiat weighs mn 
down, and consumes me day by day," 

" lly dear child," replied her mother, " we most only trust to Go^ 
who, in his own good time, will set every thing right. As it is, there 
is 00 respectable person in the neighbourhood who believes the false* 
hood, with the exception of some of the diabolical wretch's friends." 

Hary here shuddered, and exhibited the atnmgestpoSBilde^mptoms 
of aversion, even to momentary sickneaa. 

" If," pursued the mother, " tiie unfortunate impression could be 
removed fran poor mistaken Harnmn, all would soon be right." 

The mention of Harman deeply affected the poor girl ; she made 
no reply, but fw some minutes wept in great bitterness, 

" Uother," said she after a little time, " I fear you are coneealiog 
the state oSjfmi own health ; I am sure, from your flushed face, and 
oppressive manner of speaking, that you are worse than yoo think 
jonrael^ or will admit." 

<' Indeed, to tell the troth, Mary, I fear I am t I feel oert^nly veiy 
feverish — I am burning." 

" Then, fur heaven's sake, go to bed, my dear mother ; and let the 
doctor be sent for." 

" If I don't get easier soon, I vriQ," replied her mother i " I do not 
much like going to bed. it looks so like a fit of sickness." 



At this moment a tap at the door annoaiiced a visitw, and almost 
immediately Harmon entered the parionr. It it mxnsvij neeesmiy 
tc say, that Mexy vaa quite nnpreparad for his appeaimaoe, as indeed 
vraa ber mother. The latter set up on the sola, bat spoke not, forsha 
scarcely knew in what t«rmH to address him. Mary, though moclt 
moved previous to his entrance, now aienined the appeannoe of « 
coldness, which in her heart she did not feeL That ber lorer, wbo 
ouglit to have known her so w^ riionld bare permitted hinuelf to 
be borne away by such an angenerons anspicion of ber fideli^, was 
a reflection which caused her many a bitter pang. On the other 
band, when she looked back upon the snare into which she bad been 
drawn, it was impossible not to admit that the force of appearances 
made a strong case against ber. For this reason, therefore^ she 
scarcely blamed Hannan, whilst, at the same time, she certainly felt 
that there was something due to ber previons character, and the 
maidenly delicacy of her whole life. 

" Yon are surprised, Muy, to see me here," said Hannan ; " and 
you, Mrs. M'Lougblin, are no doubt equally so P' 

"I think it is very natural we should, Francis," replied Mrs. 
H'Longhlin. " I most confess that your visit is an unexpected one 
certainly, and my anxiety now is, to know the cause to wliioh we may 
tttribnte it. Sit down," 

He did not sit^ however, but exclaimed — 

"Good heavens, what is this? Why, Mary, I should scarcely 
have known you. This change is dreadfuL' 

Neither of the females spoke ; but the daughter bestowed on him 
a single look — long, fixed, and sorrowful — ^which did more to reprove 
and soften him, than any language eould have done. It went to bis 
heart — it filled him with grief, repeatance, remorse. For many a day 
and night afterwards, ber image, and that look, were before him, 
exerting a power over his soul which kindled hia lore to a height it 
would never otherwise have reached. He a^^roached her. 

" What reparation do I not owe yon, nj beloved Mary, for my 
base and ungenerous belief in that soonndrel's vile calumny P Such 
reparation, however, as I can make, I wilL You are not aware that 
l'*oll Doolitt has confessed and disclosed the wb<^ iniamous plot; 
and in a few days the calumny will beextinet. As for mo, you know 
not what a heavy weight pressed my heart down to the uttermost 
depths of suffering. I have not been without other calamities ; yet 
this, I take heaven to witness, was tbe only one f felt." 
There was a tone of deep feeling and earnest siscerity in bis wordi^ 


wbicli eonld not for a nunneBt be mbtaken. EBu fiwe, too, wu pol^ 
and fan of care, and hb person much ttunnar Uian it had been. 

Huy Mw alt tbiB at a glaac»->aadidhOTmotber. "Poor Fnnda,' 
said the latt«r, " joa bare bad jour own troubles; and severe ones, 
too, sinoe we saw yon last.* 

*<Tbej are gone," be reified t " I cure not, and think little about 
them, now that Maiy's character ia vindicated. If I ebonld never 
see ber, never speak to ber iQOTe, the conacionaneu that she ia the 
same angelic being that I first fbmid ber to be, would anstun me 
nnder the severest and most depreanng calamities of life. And God 
knows," he s^d, "lam likely to experience them in their worst shape; 
bat, sun, I have courage now to bear up agunst them." 

On approaching Mary nearer he perceived that her eyes were 
suffiued with tears t and the sight deeply affected him. " Hy dear 
Hary," siud he, "ia there not one wiad for me P Ob, believe me, if 
ever man felt deep remoise I do." 

She pnt lier hand out to him, and almost at the same instant became 
insensible. In a moment he placed her by ber mother's desire on the 
sofa, and rang the bell for some of the servants to attend. Indeed it 
would be difficult, if not impossible, to look upon a moit touching 
picture of sorrow and suflbring than that pnre looking sad beautiful 
girl presented sa she lay there inaengible ; her pale, bat exquisite 
features impressed with a melandudy at once deep and tender, as was 
evinced by the large tear drops that lay upon ber cheeks. 

*■ May God grant that her heart be not brokcD," exclaimed her 
mother, " and that she be not already beyond the reach of all that 
our affectiona would hope and wish I Poor jpit," she added, " the 
only portico of the calamity that touched her to the heart was the 
reflection that you had ceased to love ber." 

B&B. Hlionghlin whilst she spoke kept her eyes fixed upon hat 
daughter's pale but placid face ; and whilst she did bo, she perceived 
that a few lai^ tears fell upon it, and literally minted with those of 
the poor sofibrer's which bad been there before. She looked up and 
saw that Harman was deeply moved. 

"Even if it shoald be so," he exclaimed, "X shall be only jostly 
punished for having dared to doubt ber." 

A servant havin'g now entered, a little cold water was got, wbiel^ 
oil b^g sprinkled over her face and applied to her lips, aided In 
recovering her. 

" Toor appearance," said ahe, " and the intelligence yon brooglit 
were so nnexpected, and my weakness bo grett^ that I felt oiyself 

THE mm agemt. aa 

oreroome ; however, I uu better — ^I am better now ;" but wtukt 
dte nttered tbeee words her T<to giew tremalow, and thej ware 
scarcely out of her lipe when she barrt out into an exceanre fit of 
weeping. For serersl minutes this contJaoed, and she ^^eaied to feel 
relieved; she then entered into cosTersation, and was able to talk 
with more ease and firmness than she had ermced for mu^ & d^ 
beibre. It was jnst then Uiat a knock came to the hall door, and in 
a Gonple of minutes about a dosen of Val's bloodlionnds, selected to 
act as bailiffi and keepers— a task ia which ihty were aoeustomed— 
entered the house with an execution to seise for rent "pat, at all 
times and ooder all circanutances, is a scene in which a peculiar 
license Is given to bmtalitj tai mfflanism j bat in the preant case, 
there were additional motives^ with which the reader is already 
acquuQted, for insulting this family. Not that the mere levying of 
an execution was a matter of novelty to either Mary or her mother, 
for of late there hod unfortunately been several in the house and on 
•their property before. These^ however, were conducted in a degree 
of civility that intimated respect for, if not sympathy with, the feelings 
of a family so inofTenrive, so beneficial to the neighbourhood by the 
employment they afibrded, and, in short, every way bo worthy of 

" What is all this about ?" asked Harman. 

" Why," said one of the fsIlowB, ** w^'re seiui^ for rent ; that's 
what il^a about." 

" Bent," observed the other surprised, " why it is only a few 
minutes since Mr. M'Loughlin told me that M'Clntchy assured 
him — '" 

" Cqp/cuH M'Clutchy, sir, if you pluse." 

"Tory well; Captain M'Clutchy, or Cokmel M'Clutchy if yon 
wish, assured him that " 

"I have nothing to do with what he assured him," replied the 
fellow J " my duty ia to take an inventory of the furniture } beg 
pardon, ladies ; but we must do our duty, you know." 

" Let them have their way," said Mrs. M'Loughlin, "let them have 
their way t I know what they an capable of. Mary, my dear, be 
flvm i as I aud before, oar only trust ia in God, my child." 

" I am firm, my dear mother t for as James said« the grief of gtieb 
has been removed from me. I can now support myself under any 
filing, but your state ; indeed, James, she is battling a^unst illness 
Hum three or four days, and will not go to bed : it ia for you I now 

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&f 'LongbliD and bis funily here entered ; and truth to telU bomti- 
keta was the indignation of the boneat fallow, at thia most oppreauTS 
Mid perfldioiu proceeding on the part of ttie treacherous agent. 

Ah," said he, " I knew it— and I said it — but let the acoondrel do 
l^is worst; I acorn him, and I def^ him in the very height ctf his ill- 
gotten aathoritjT. H7 ohildren,'' said he, "keep yoarselrea cooL 
Let not this eowardlj- act <£ oppresBioD and revuige distnrb or pro- 
voke jou. This oonntrj, aa it is at present goremed— and this pro- 
perty BB it is at present managed — is no place for as to live in. Let 
the scoundrel then do his worst. As fco" ua, we will follow the 
exan^ of other respectable families, who, like ourselves, hare been 
foroed to seek a home in a distant oonntry. We t. lU emigrate to 
America as soon as I can conveniently make anangementa for that 
purpose ; for God knows I am sick of my natiTe land, and the petty 
oppresaoiB which in so many ways liarraBs and goad the people 
almost to madness." 

He had no sooner uttered these words, than the fellow whose name 
was Hudson, whispered to one of his companiona, who immediately 
disappeared with something like a grin of exultation on his oonnte- 
Bance. Mrs. M'Longhlin's illness was now such, as she ooold no 
longer attempt to conceal. The painful shock occasioned by this last 
Tindictive proceeding on the part of M'Ctutchy, came at a most 
unhappy moment. Oreronne I^ that and her illnesa, she was 
oUiged to go to bed, aided by her husband and daughter ; bat> b^nm 
■he went, it was co