THE 
 
 EXILE OF ERIN; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE SORROWS 
 
 BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 : All men have their foibles; mine is too much Modesty." 
 
 Gaod-Xatured Man. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 WHJTTAKER AND CO., AVE-MARIA LANE. 
 
 183o.
 
 CAPTAIN BLUFFE. You see, Mr. Sharper, after all, I 
 am content to retire, and live a private person. Scipio and 
 others have done it. 
 
 SHARPER. (Aside.) Impudent rogue ! 
 
 SIR J. WITTOL. Aye, this damned Modesty of yours 
 
 CAPTAIN BLUFFE. Oh fie ! No, Sir Joseph, you know 
 I hate this. 
 
 SIR J. WITTOL. Look you, Mr. Sharper, I tell you, 
 he is so mcdest, he'll own nothing. 
 
 CAPTAIN BLUFFE. Pray, hold your tongue, and give 
 me leave to tell my own story. 
 
 Old Bachelor. 
 
 BAYLIS AND LEIGHTON, JOHj;SON'S-COURT,FLEET-ST.
 
 BOOK THE FIRST. 
 
 THE ADVENTURER. 
 
 2203210
 
 THE 
 
 EXILE OF ERIN; 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 INTRODUCTORY AND APOLOGETIC. 
 
 I AM the most unfortunate of men. Some 
 people have been ruined by their candour, and 
 some by their cunning this man by his parsi- 
 mony, and that by his extravagance ; but I am 
 the victim of Modesty ! The O'Blarneys of 
 Connemara (the very prefix O is symbolical of 
 mauvaise honte) were always a bashful race ; 
 would that they had degenerated into impudence 
 in my person ! But, alas ! I could never look 
 a bailiff in the face without crimsoning like a 
 peony; nor pass a sheriffs officer without in- 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Z SORROWS OF 
 
 stinctively averting my head. I am a living 
 evidence that there is a certain something in the 
 climate of Erin peculiarly favourable to the 
 growth of modesty. In a word, I am the per- 
 sonification of a Blush ! 
 
 The censorious reader but for him I write 
 not will doubtless attribute my misfortunes to 
 any thing rather than my bashfulness. He 
 will say, perhaps, that my autobiography is 
 throughout an illustratiojp of rare impudence 
 and roguery ; he, however, who is blest with 
 philosophic discernment ; who knows the exact 
 relations between cause and effect, and how to 
 trace the one up to the other through all the 
 various ramifications that lie between, will see 
 at once that every calamity which it has been 
 my lot to endure, may, directly or indirectly, be 
 traced up to its first great cause Modesty ! 
 
 But to the point. In the following auto- 
 biographical sketch, which, I should premise, 
 is the mere transcript of a fragmentary journal 
 that I have for years amused myself by keeping, 
 I have held it as the first of duties to adhere 
 religiously to truth. So scrupulous have I
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 3 
 
 been in this respect, that I have not even 
 spared myself, but exposed my occasional little 
 irregularities of conduct (for who among the 
 best of us is perfect ?) with a minuteness and 
 sincerity which I trust will be duly appreciated. 
 Of my enemies, too, and of the frequent un- 
 pleasant incidents to which their machinations 
 gave rise, I have every where spoken with a 
 calmness and apathy which the lapse of nearly 
 fourteen years has engendered in a disposition 
 once more sensitive than an aspen-leaf. Had 
 I chosen to resign fact for fiction, I might 
 easily have manufactured a more acceptable 
 work, but my conscience would not allow of 
 such an unworthy compromise ; hence my nar- 
 rative contains no extraordinary nor pathetic 
 adventures ; it has neither continuous interest 
 nor artfully elaborated plot ; but abounds in 
 " passages that lead to nothing," and charac- 
 ters, or rather shadows of character, that come 
 and go without a why or wherefore, like the 
 phantoms that flitted before the eyes of Mac- 
 beth in the cavern of Hecate. But thus is it 
 with human nature. -To few is granted the 
 
 B2
 
 4 SORROWS OF 
 
 opportunity of making intimate and enduring 
 connexions ; by far the majority of us are like 
 travellers at an inn, who, before they have had 
 time to become acquainted with each other's 
 habits, manners, modes of thought, action, and 
 so forth", are compelled to hurry away north, 
 south, east, and west, never perhaps to re- 
 assemble.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE YOUNG IDEA TAUGHT HOW TO SHOOT. 
 
 MY name is O'Blarney. I was born beside 
 a hedge, under an umbrella, during a shower, 
 about a stone's throw from my father's farm- 
 house in the immediate neighbourhood of Gal- 
 way. The night previous to my introduction 
 into this vale of tears was marked by a sin- 
 gular occurrence. My mother, a plump phi- 
 lanthropist of forty, dreamed that she was 
 brought to bed of a rope a circumstance which 
 the gossips in the neighbourhood one and all 
 agreed betokened something extraordinary in 
 my career. 
 
 My father was a middle-aged farmer in the 
 usual indifferent circumstances. In his notions 
 of business this gentleman was a staunch advo-
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 cate of the free- trade system, and from his 
 vicinity to the sea-coast he had frequent oppor- 
 tunities of reducing his favourite theory to 
 practice. He was not, however, one of your 
 vulgar, showy tradesmen, who make a boast of 
 their profits, and carry on business as if from 
 ostentation, beneath the glaring eye of day ; 
 far otherwise, he was quiet, diffident, and re- 
 served in his nature, shy in alluding to his 
 gains, and allowed night only to be the witness 
 of his more important occupations. 
 
 Such being the two-fold nature of his voca- 
 tion, that is to say, being a farmer by day and 
 a smuggler by night, it must be manifest that 
 he had little or no time to throw away on my 
 education, who, accordingly, shot up from in- 
 fancy to boyhood as wild and undisciplined as 
 a Connemara colt. 
 
 The history of all childhood is pretty nearly 
 the same; I shall, therefore, pass it by, and 
 come at once to the period when I attained my 
 seventeenth year. At this epoch I was placed 
 in the shop of a certain village doctor, by name 
 Killquick, a waggish, good-humoured little
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. / 
 
 fellow, who was famous throughout the district 
 for the invention of divers specifics, by the help 
 of which he wrought the most surprising cures. 
 As the doctor in his personal appearance passed 
 the verge of the extraordinary, and approached 
 to the miraculous, I must pause to give a 
 sketch of him. He had the head of a giant 
 fixed upon the shoulders of a dwarf. His eyes 
 were of a gooseberry colour ; his nose was ga- 
 thered up in a bunch in the middle, just as if 
 dame Nature in a frolicksome mood had tied it 
 in a double-knot ; his teeth were tusks in shape 
 and size ; he had a split in his upper-lip, which 
 enabled him to give a full and perfect develop- 
 ment to the broadest grin that ever threw a 
 stranger into hysterics ; his mouth was not so 
 much a mouth, as a huge gash scored at ran- 
 dom across his face ; and he had two big red 
 ears, which projected from either side his head 
 like the lamplights of a mail-coach. 
 
 Next to the doctor, the greatest curiosity in 
 the county was the doctor's horse, which, having 
 long been the subject of its master's experi- 
 ments, had been physicked into a most pro-
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 raising state of atrophy. The very leanest 
 hackney-coach-horse that ever crawled, would 
 have blushed to be seen in company with such 
 a prodigy of attenuation. It was just the 
 sort of animal you would expect to see graz- 
 ing on the Great Zaarah. Of course the doctor 
 was proud of such an evidence of his medical 
 skill, and it was as rich a treat as eyes could 
 have, to see him mounted on its back, swaying 
 to and fro like a scare-crow in a steady wind, 
 while every little ragged urchin for miles round, 
 would take flight at his approach, as if only to 
 look, were to be physicked. 
 
 Under this original, my genius for pharmacy 
 (which at a subsequent period, as the reader will 
 find, I turned to excellent account in South 
 "Wales) developed itself with such signal preco- 
 city, that the doctor spoke of me every where 
 among his patients, as the most promising pupil 
 he ever had; and even went so far as to entrust 
 me with the secret of his recipes, at which, in 
 process of time, I fully equalled, if not surpassed 
 him. Moreover, he imbued me with my first 
 notions of the drama, for, strange to tell, he
 
 A BASHFUL, IRISHMAN. [) 
 
 imagined he had a gift that way, and whenever 
 a new company made its appearance at Gal way, 
 always took me with him to witness their per- 
 formances. His favourite character was Hamlet, 
 which, he contended, should be played in a strait- 
 waistcoat, as furnishing a lively and original 
 comment on the peculiarities of the character. 
 
 It is a pity that such a versatile genius should 
 die, and " leave the world no copy ;" but doc- 
 tors, like the rest of mankind, are mortal more 
 especially when they are in the habit of taking 
 their own physic and, accordingly, it came 
 to pass, that my excellent master quitted his 
 patients in this world, to rejoin those who 
 crowded the other, in consequence of having, 
 in a moment of forgetfulness, drank a hearty 
 draught of one of his own eb'xirs. 
 
 From his hands I was transferred to those of 
 Father O'Flannaghan a round, rosy, comfort- 
 able ecclesiastic of the old school, who, at my 
 mother's express instigation, invited me to take 
 up my abode with him. This was a change in 
 my condition, if not for the more agreeable, at 
 least for the more edifying, for the ghostly 
 B 3 '
 
 10 SORROWS OF 
 
 father was clever, and even learned ; possessed 
 a decent, miscellaneous library ; taught me 
 arithmetic, together with a smattering of Eng- 
 lish, French, and Latin, as also how to manu- 
 facture whiskey-punch. I owe to this worthy 
 man my first fit of inebriety. The debt is not 
 considerable certainly; but, in recapitulating past 
 civilities, it is but justice to acknowledge it. 
 
 Unlike the generality of Catholic priests, 
 Father O'Flannaghan had seen much of the 
 world, and, as is usually the case with such men, 
 piqued himself not a little on his discernment of 
 character. He early prophesied my rise in life, 
 from having marked the attention with which I 
 listened to his remarks, and the facility with 
 which I adapted myself to his habits. The 
 respect of youth is the most effective compli- 
 ment that can be paid to age. Worldly natures 
 are peculiarly alive to this flattery. They ima- 
 gine it the outpouring of artlessness and sin- 
 cerity, which experience has taught them it is 
 all but vain to expect from those of their own 
 age and standing. Many a shrewd, experienced 
 veteran have I seen, whom Machiavel himself
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 11 
 
 would have failed to hood-wink, become the 
 dupe of unsuspected boyhood. 
 
 Father O'Flannaghan felt my deference to 
 his opinions as a compliment in its fullest ac- 
 ceptation, and shewed that he felt it, by the way 
 in which he repaid me with exhortation. " Ever 
 bear in mind, Terence," he was often in the 
 habit of saying, "that the world is large enough 
 for us all, and that in order to succeed, it is only 
 necessary that we desire it. True, society is a 
 sea full of rocks and breakers ; still, he who 
 trims his sails according to wind and weather, 
 will be pretty sure to navigate it with safety. 
 Most men, however, quit port in the ' Shippe 
 of Fools 1 that is to say, start on their voyage 
 in, what they call, a spirit of truth and indepen- 
 dence. Now these, though plausible, are silly 
 terms, and mean neither more or less than that 
 they are resolved to set up their own judgment 
 in opposition to that of the world. You, I 
 should hope, will be guilty of no such pre- 
 sumption. Clever as you may deem yourself, 
 the world is cleverer still ; so take my advice 
 yield to it flatter it fall in with its humours,
 
 12 SORROWS OF 
 
 and adopt its prejudices, till you have made it 
 your friend for life. A man who quarrels with 
 society, oh, Terence ! is like a school -boy, who 
 hopes to spite his master by going without his 
 own dinner. 
 
 " The great object of existence is the acquisi- 
 tion of power. Gain this, conscientiously if you 
 can ; but, at all events, gain it for the world 
 respects you solely for your influence ; it has 
 neither leisure nor inclination to canvass the 
 means by which you gained it. Remember, 
 also, that man is the natural prey of man, and 
 that, if you refrain from turning your friend to 
 a rational and profitable account ; you will do 
 him no service, but yourself much injury, for 
 some other less fastidious individual will be sure 
 to step into your position. But, whatever you 
 do, be it with friend or foe, always do it in, 
 what Englishmen call, <a business-like fashion,' 
 for the word business ' has a talismanic vir- 
 tue, and, like charity, covereth a multitude of 
 rogueries. 
 
 " Moreover, in your intercourse with society, 
 be careful to reserve your smiles for those above,
 
 A BASHFUL IKISHMAX. 13 
 
 and your frowns for those beneath you. If, 
 however, you cannot reconcile it to your innate 
 sense of virtue, to be perpetually flattering your 
 superiors, you can easily make up matters with 
 your conscience, by telling truths by wholesale 
 to your inferiors. There is one more point 
 whicli I cannot too strongly impress on your 
 attention. Never forget that you were born 
 and bred a Catholic. Without religion, oh, 
 my child ! vain are the hopes of man ! DLvi: 
 I have done." 
 
 Such, with few or no variations, was the 
 usual substance of Father OTlannaghan's ad- 
 monitions, which, by being frequently repeated 
 in terms of kindness and good-humour, pro- 
 duced a strong, but imperceptible impression on 
 my mind indeed, I may almost say, moulded 
 my entire habits of thought and action. 
 
 I continued with this good man up to the 
 period of my twenty-first birth-day, when he 
 was unexpectedly summoned to take his seat in 
 paradise beside St. Peter ; and I returned to my 
 father's roof, wiser certainly, more self-confident, 
 and more ambitious, but quite as poor as when I
 
 14 SORROWS OF 
 
 quitted it. About this period, too, another visita- 
 tion befel me in the death of my mother, who 
 was accidentally killed by her own brother, in one 
 of those pugnacious moods with which the best 
 of Irishmen are at times afflicted. It is soothing 
 to reflect that the worthy lady died in excellent 
 spirits, and that, on the Sunday following her 
 wake, one half the parish appeared at chapel 
 with their heads bound up.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF CHARACTER. 
 
 PASSING over a host of unimportant inci- 
 dents, I approach the period of my first love. 
 My first love ! What a world of ineptitude 
 and insanity is comprised in these two words ! 
 How many wits have they sent a wool- 
 gathering ! How many qualified for Bedlam ! 
 The object of my attachment was the only 
 daughter of the senechal of the manor. She was 
 a graceful, sprightly young creature, a piquant 
 mixture of the coquette and the prude ; with an 
 eye blacker than a Berkshire sloe; hair soft and 
 dusky as twilight ; a mouth small flexible 
 expressive and, in the angles of which an arch 
 smile perpetually nestled ; a bust formed on the 
 purest classic model ; and a figure tall, slim, yet
 
 16 SORROWS OF 
 
 just sufficiently plump and rounded to convey 
 the idea of perfect health and symmetry. 
 
 I had been in the habit of encountering Miss 
 Mahoney in the course of my daily strolls about 
 the neighbourhood, and, though I cannot take 
 it on myself to assert that she made me the ob- 
 ject of any very marked scrutiny, yet a thousand 
 casual acts of attention made me fancy that I 
 was not altogether indifferent to her. 
 
 "When once this flattering notion had fixed 
 itself in my thoughts, it is astonishing how, 
 chameleon-like, it contrived to feed and thrive 
 on air. There is nothing like idleness to nourish 
 the sentimentalities and conceits of youth. Once 
 or twice Miss Mahoney called at Father O'Flan- 
 naghan's cottage I could not choose but re- 
 member the visit, for my revered preceptor 
 happened to be seriously indisposed at the time 
 and, on these occasions, she never failed to 
 entreat me to watch over her father's friend and 
 confessor, for her sake. Once, too, as 1 was guid- 
 ing a remarkably handsome young English offi- 
 cer towards Galway, whither his regiment had 
 been lately ordered, Miss Mahoney passed us on
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 17 
 
 horseback, when I instantly detected a blush on 
 her countenance. These, together with a mul- 
 titude of other trivial circumstances, which I 
 cannot stop to explain or analyze, brought home 
 to my mind the delightful assurance that I was 
 not unbeloved by the finest girl in all the West 
 of Ireland. 
 
 We moved, to be sure, in different circles ; 
 but what of that? love is an arrant leveller, 
 whose pride it is to overthrow all the obstacles 
 which circumstance and situation may oppose 
 to his progress. 
 
 Irishmen are proverbially sanguine, and from 
 the first moment of my encounter with Miss 
 Mahoney, I felt persuaded that fate had des- 
 tined us for each other. This idea haunted me 
 incessantly. I became shadowy and transpa- 
 rent, affected the moonlight, and sought for 
 sympathy in the stars. If I went out for a 
 ramble, it was to steal a glance at Miss Ma- 
 honey. If I smiled, it was on Miss Mahoney. 
 If I prayed, it was for Miss Mahoney. If I 
 rhymed, it was on Miss Mahoney. If I swore,
 
 18 SORROWS OF 
 
 it was by Miss Mahoney. If I dreamed, it was 
 of Miss Mahoney. 
 
 My father was the first to perceive my altered 
 mood. We were seated together one raw night 
 beside a turf fire, when roused by a sigh which 
 involuntarily escaped me, he laid down his jug, 
 and looking towards me, with a serio-comic air, 
 said, " Terence, jewel, what ails you ?" 
 
 For the life of me I could not answer. 
 
 " By the holy, the boy's bewitched !" re- 
 joined my father. 
 
 *' Right, Sir, I am bewitched." 
 
 " Asy, lad, and tell me all about it ; sure, 
 then, it's myself will see you righted at least, 
 so there's no law in the case. 11 
 
 There was a plausibility about this that at 
 once gained my attention ; for I could not but 
 remember that my father had himself, in early 
 life, been a martyr to the tender passion, as he 
 proved to demonstration by the forcible abduc- 
 tion of two farmer's daughters, one of whom was 
 an heiress. For these sprightly sallies he had 
 fallen under the serious displeasure of the law,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 19 
 
 against which he had ever since entertained a 
 jZUff*T 
 
 strong, and, under the circumstances, not, I 
 think, an ill-founded prejudice. From such a 
 man, therefore, I felt I had every right to look 
 for sympathy ; so, after a moment's hesitation, 
 when he had twice repeated his question, I burst 
 out with, " Father, I'm in love." 
 
 I thought he would have gone off in a fit 
 at this confession. " Father, Fra in love," he 
 said, mimicking the touching sadness of my 
 voice and countenance ; " Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! was 
 ever such a thing heard of ? And pray, Terence, 
 who are you in love with ?" 
 
 When I mentioned the lady's name, my fa- 
 ther's laughter broke out with more violence 
 than ever. " Oh, murder !" he exclaimed, dig- 
 ging the tears out of his eyes with his knuckles, 
 " this lad '11 be the death of me !" 
 
 " Then, Sir, 1 ' I sullenly replied, " since you 
 turn my sufferings into ridicule, and give me 
 not an atom of encouragement, I shall go and 
 hang myself. 1 ' 
 
 " And what good '11 that do ? hey, Terence ?" 
 
 The question was a striking one, and recon-
 
 20 SORROWS OF 
 
 ciled me at once to existence. Nevertheless, des- 
 pairing of receiving any further serviceable sug- 
 gestions from a man who was fast hastening to 
 pass the boundary line of sobriety, I resolutely 
 refused to answer any more of his cavalier in- 
 terrogatories, but wrapping myself up, as with 
 a mantle, in the silence of a lofty indignation, 
 quitted the room, and retired up the ladder to 
 bed.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 21 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LOVE'S LABOUR LOST. 
 
 THE next day the conversation of the pre- 
 ceding night was resumed. But singularly 
 enough my father's notions had in the interim 
 undergone a total change. Instead of ridiculing 
 my presumption, or giving up my case as hope- 
 less, he now advised me to persevere, and even 
 went the length of urging me to indite, what he 
 called, " a fine, flourishing," love-letter to Miss 
 Mahoney, to which I added a postscript, stating 
 that the individual to whom the note referred, 
 would himself wait for a reply next day, in a 
 certain sequestered lane, whose geographical 
 position I took care to lay down with all the ac- 
 curacy of a Guthrie. 
 
 Well, the letter penned, folded and addressed,
 
 22 SORROWS OF 
 
 was consigned to my father's custody, who forth- 
 with set out to deliver it into the hands, if pos- 
 sible, of the lady herself, while I spent the inter- 
 val of his absence in conjuring up, like Alnaschar, 
 a thousand flattering anticipations. Within the 
 hour the old man returned. He had delivered 
 my missive, he said with an arch smile, to a 
 footman at the hall door, and after waiting full 
 ten minutes for a reply, was informed by the 
 servant, at the express command of his mistress, 
 that none was needed. 
 
 Silence gives consent. This, I believe, is a 
 generally admitted axiom. I, at least, was not 
 willing to suppose otherwise, so persuaded my- 
 self that I had but to make my appearance, in 
 decent trim, at the appointed place of rendez- 
 vous, to be received as my merits deserved. 
 
 Decent trim ! The phrase was an awkward 
 one, and replete with discouraging remini- 
 scences. I was, in truth, most delicately situated 
 in this respect. My coat, like the Guiaour, was 
 " a Fragment;" and my bat, like Charles the 
 Tenth, had lost its crown. In the more se- 
 cluded Irish villages, among the humbler class
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 23 
 
 of farmers, possessions such as these are either 
 acquired by inheritance, or left by will as lega- 
 cies. No man dreams of purchasing them on 
 his own account. He would as soon think of 
 setting up a carriage. I was not an exception 
 to the general rule, consequently my ancestral 
 wardrobe was in a condition better calculated to 
 extort reverence than admiration ; and nothing 
 but the Ingenuity and perseverance of my fa- 
 ther, who assisted me in the arduous endeavour 
 to render it again fit for service, enabled me at 
 length to work out my ideas of decent trim. 
 
 It was a delightful morning, when, like my 
 celebrated countryman Sterne, I set out on my 
 " sentimental journey." The birds were singing 
 on every hedge they could find to sing on ; the 
 wild colts were running races on the moor ; the 
 spirit of universal happiness lay soft and sunny 
 upon earth. 
 
 As I tripped onward, I felt the gladsome 
 spirit of the hour pervade my every thought. 
 The breeze that blew freshly about my brow ; 
 the grass with its cool cheerful green, brought 
 brighter out by the sunshine; the streamlet
 
 24 SORROWS OF 
 
 chattering beside my path, like some young 
 companion who prattles out of the exuberance 
 of animal spirits ; in a word, all sweet sounds, 
 and sights, and refreshing influences of earth 
 and heaven seemed to have entered into a bene- 
 volent conspiracy to elevate me to the very pin- 
 nacle of buoyant self-confidence. 
 
 On I went, through fields and across moor- 
 lands, till I caught the first glimpse of the 
 appointed lane, when halting beside a stile, 
 close under the shadow of an elm, I began to 
 frame an address worthy of myself and Miss 
 Mahoney. I felt that I had but to speak, to 
 conquer. 
 
 Thus absorbed in seductive reverie, I came 
 within sight of the place of rendezvous. On 
 reaching the nearer end, I again halted, and 
 cast a hurried glance around me, to ascertain if 
 aught in the shape of female form were moving 
 behind or before me. But all was still and 
 breathless. Presently I heard a rustling in 
 the hedge close behind me. I listened the 
 branches parted with a crash but instead of 
 the laughing, sylphid figure I expected to see
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 25 
 
 bound through the aperture, an old cow 
 
 stared me full in the face ! 
 
 At length my disappointment bid fair to be 
 terminated. The sound of footsteps came quick 
 up a narrow bend of the lane, and in a few 
 minutes three men, in whose faces I was not 
 slow to recognize more mischief than sentiment, 
 advanced towards me. The foremost of the 
 squad and my heart sank as I made the dis- 
 coverywas a favourite English groom of Mr. 
 Mahoney. " "W hat." said I, " can this advent 
 import ? Nothing surely but disappointment. 
 Yet why should it be so ? I cannot have been 
 mistaken in my anticipations. Those smiles 
 that look can they have? no, no it must 
 not cannot be. Courage then ; all will yet be 
 well ;" and thus reassured, I boldly resolved to 
 await the result of circumstances. 
 
 " Terence, 11 said the vile Saxon, " is this 
 your letter ?" holding forth the very note on 
 which I had so much prided myself. 
 
 " Yes, 1 ' I replied, in a tone of becoming con- 
 fidence. 
 
 VOL. i. c
 
 26 SORROWS OF 
 
 " And you hoped to receive an answer from 
 my young lady in person ?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly." 
 
 " Truly, a very modest confession." 
 
 " Sir," said I, " it is not with you that I 
 want to speak : when I need your counsel, I 
 will not fail to ask it." 
 
 The wretch turned towards his fellow with a 
 sneer. I caught the malign expression, and 
 overcome by a vision of the stocks and horse- 
 pond, prepared for instant flight. But the man 
 was riot to be thus baulked. He had evidently 
 anticipated some such manoeuvre ; and before I 
 had time to enter into satisfactory explanations, 
 made a sign to his satellite, who, with an ala- 
 crity which I shall never think of without dis- 
 gust, seized me by the legs and arms, and 
 trotted off with me towards a neighbouring 
 field, where a mob of Mr. Mahoney's tenantry 
 were anxiously expecting my arrival. 
 
 On seeing me approach, the whole assembly 
 burst out into uproarious laughter, and in an 
 incredibly short space of time adjusted a blan-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 27 
 
 ket, threw me like a sack of potatoes right 
 into the middle, and sent me, head over heels, 
 high up into the astonished sky. 
 
 I forbear to enumerate the reluctant sum- 
 mersets I threw ; I shrink from details of the 
 height to which I rose, or the depth to which I 
 fell ; suffice it to say, that at one moment I was 
 as near to heaven as a doctor's patient, and the 
 next, as far removed from it as a lawyer. 
 
 For at least half an hour, I kept rising and 
 sinking in this very indecorous fashion now im- 
 personating the Sublime, and now the Bathos 
 at the expiration of which time I was set once 
 more on my legs, and complimented on my 
 brisk evolutions amid the cheers of some hun- 
 dred plebeians. What a termination to " Love's 
 young Dream !" 
 
 Overcome with shame, disgust, and offended 
 delicacy, I was just preparing to sneak from 
 the field, when whom should I encounter but 
 my father ! The old man said nothing ; but 
 when he winked his eye, and laid his forefinger 
 beside his nose, at fhe same time casting a sly 
 glance at the blanket, I thought I should have 
 c2 -
 
 28 SORROWS OF 
 
 gone distracted. To be thus outraged by a 
 raob and jeered by a parent ! To have one's 
 earliest and holiest sensibilities thus blighted, 
 as it were, in the bud ! Flesh and blood could 
 not endure the shock ; so, like a maniac, I 
 rushed from the scene of action, nor once 
 halted, till many long miles lay between me 
 and the scene of my humiliation.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 29 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THINGS AT THE WORST ARE SURE TO MEND. 
 
 AFTER three hours 1 incessant walking, du- 
 ring which my fertile fancy had shaped out a 
 thousand plans for the future for, resolved 
 never to return home, I already looked on my- 
 self as a citizen of the world, who must hence- 
 forth be the artificer of his own fortune I 
 was compelled from sheer exhaustion to come 
 to a halt ; so seating myself on a hillock a few 
 yards from the high road, I reviewed, as dispas- 
 sionately as the state of my ribs would allow, 
 the events of the last few hours. 
 
 " Had I possessed but ordinary assurance," 
 I said, " I should not have been thus situated. 
 What had I to do with sneaking like a vagrant 
 about lanes, waiting for stolen interviews with
 
 30 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 young ladies? I should have known better 
 what was due to the dignity of manhood have 
 gone boldly up to the hall pleaded my cause 
 in person and trusted to my stars for the 
 result. Instead of which I have proved my- 
 self an arrant milk-sop ! Is it wonderful then 
 that I am treated with contempt ? Is not a 
 blanketting the legitimate inheritance of such a 
 ninny ? Oh ! fool, fool ! this confounded mo- 
 desty will be thy ruin !" 
 
 Turning from this, by no means agreeable, 
 reverie, I next proceeded seriously to discuss the 
 plan of my future proceedings. And now the 
 advice of Father O'Flannaghan recurred to me 
 with healing effect. " Yes," I exclaimed, " I 
 will indeed adhere scrupulously to thy admoni- 
 tions, thou kindest and most apostolic of sages ! 
 I will neither despond nor become desperate, 
 for the world is wide enough for us all, and 
 fortune is rarely coy to those who know how to 
 contend for her favours. If one thing fails, I 
 will try another. I have talents, I have 
 thanks to thy tuition something of education, 
 and nature, if she has cursed me with shame-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 31 
 
 facedness, has, it is to be hoped, blessed me 
 with sufficient energy to neutralize it. En 
 avant, then, be my motto." 
 
 By this time the day was wearing on, and 
 as my afflictions, though severe, had not wholly 
 deprived me of appetite, I made all possible 
 haste towards the nearest way-side inn. My 
 speed was unencumbered with bag and baggage, 
 for my whole wardrobe was on my back, and 
 my whole stock in cash consisted of two shil- 
 lings and a few stray tenpennies. 
 
 By twilight I reached a little town, or rather 
 village, and entering a small, social inn, over 
 whose door frowned a fierce likeness of Brien 
 Borhune, called for the landlord, and ordered 
 supper in that tone of authority which implies 
 the possession of the Ways and Means. 
 
 The man hastened to obey my summons, and 
 in a few minutes returned into the coffee-room 
 (or what he was pleased to style such) with 
 some cheese, by no means improved by age, hot 
 potatoes, a loaf of home-made bread, and, what 
 I feel justified in asserting was, very passable 
 whiskey.
 
 32 SORROWS OF 
 
 The sharp edge of appetite was soon blunted 
 on these viands, to which a bowl of whiskey- 
 punch lent the finest possible relish, and ren- 
 dered me awhile insensible to all anxieties. 
 
 In the course of the evening the room gra- 
 dually filled, and just when my spirits had at- 
 tained an enviable point of elevation, and I was 
 ripe for any frolic, a random remark in abuse 
 of certain of Mr. Martin's electioneering agents 
 at Galway, let fall by an individual who was 
 drinking with some others at a table at the far 
 end of the room, gave rise to a tart rejoinder 
 from one of his companions, to which he as 
 tartly replied ; and with such effect, that he 
 drew down on himself the notice of some half- 
 a-dozen others, whoj though they evidently 
 knew nothing of the merits of the case, yet 
 could not witness these first virgin blossoms of 
 a row without doing their best to bring them to 
 maturity, 
 
 A crowd, therefore, was soon gathered about 
 the litigants; the strife -of tongues began to 
 wax loud and louder, till at length a blow, 
 aimed at the author of the fray by one of the
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 33 
 
 aggrieved Martinites, brought on as pretty and 
 promiscuous a fight as could be desired, 
 was indeed a lovely " skrimmage."" No on. 
 dreamed of siding either with this party or with 
 that ; impartiality being the order of the day, 
 all you were expected to do was to pitch into 
 your next neighbour, and get as much fun out 
 of him as possible. 
 
 Was I idle all this time ? No ! It was not 
 in human certainly not in Irish nature to re- 
 sist the temptation. In a wonderful short space 
 of time, therefore, I found myself in the very 
 thick of the battle, anchored alongside the in- 
 dividual whose wild rattle had originated it. 
 Scarcely had I taken up this position, when 
 such a terrific blow was aimed at my neigh- 
 bour's head as must infallibly have demolished 
 him, had I not caught it, as it was in the act of 
 descending, on the leg of a broken stool with 
 which I had armed myself. 
 
 On seeing this, he turned round, and giving 
 me a look, as much as to say, " I am too busy 
 now, but will thank you when it is all over," 
 c3
 
 34 SORROWS OF 
 
 set to work again, in concert with myself, with 
 such well-directed energy, while the others were 
 all hammering away at random, that when the 
 landlord rushed in to separate the combatants, 
 we were the only two who were not lavishly 
 embellished with black eyes, and other such 
 pugilistic Illustrations. 
 
 After a cleverly-sustained affair of about half 
 an hour, peace was restored. Some quitted the 
 coffee-room for the purpose of anointing their 
 wounds; others resumed their places in high 
 glee at the entertainment they had just re- 
 ceived; while the stranger, whom I had so 
 opportunely befriended, after squeezing me by 
 the hand a do/en times, took his seat beside 
 me, and insisted on drinking to our better ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Something there was about this individual 
 which at once conciliated my good will. He 
 was smart and flippant in speech; frank and 
 cordial, with a dash of independence and as- 
 sumption in his manner; which, combined with 
 a certain knowing air, half-comic, half-disconso-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 35 
 
 late, betokened the reckless adventurer whose 
 entrance into a coffee-room is the signal for the 
 landlord to take away the silver-spoons. 
 
 In the course of conversation with this stran- 
 ger, after he had explained to me the origin 
 of the late quarrel, we slided imperceptibly 
 into that most attractive of all topics, the state 
 of our mutual affairs. My story was soon told, 
 though not without repeated interruptions from 
 the laughter of my companion, who inquired, 
 when I had brought it to a close, what I in- 
 tended to be my next plan of proceeding? 
 
 " I know not," was my reply, " my wits are 
 completely at sea on the subject. Possibly I 
 may enlist as a soldier." 
 
 " And serve your first campaign against the 
 Whiteboys in a Connemara or Tipperary bog, 
 with an equal chance of being shot smothered 
 hanged or carded ! Why, my good fellow, 
 your project is as green as the green isle itself. 
 Think again. 1 ' 
 
 " Well, then, I have been considering also 
 whether I should not make the best of my way 
 to Dublin, and endeavour to procure a situation
 
 36 SORROWS OF 
 
 with some chemist or apothecary. I have had 
 some little experience in that line." 
 
 " Killed your man, no doubt. What say 
 you to offering your services to some of the 
 farmers hereabouts? This is j ust the right time, 
 you know." 
 
 " Sir !" said I indignantly, " I was born for 
 nobler objects than to walk at the plough-tail 
 behind two bullocks." 
 
 " Ambitious ! 'Gad, I like your spirit." 
 
 " Yes, Father O'Flannaghan used often to 
 say that if I played my cards well, I should rise 
 in the world. ' The lad is not without genius,' 
 was his frequent remark to my father. 1 ' 
 
 " Genius ! Curse the phrase. I never hear 
 it, but I think of a bailiff. Nothing flourishes 
 that has the slightest connexion with it. Look 
 at me I should have been a rich man by this 
 time, if it had not been for my genius." 
 
 " Yet Father O'Flannaghan used to say that 
 genius, properly " 
 
 " Hang Father O'Flannaghan. He knew 
 nothing about the matter. Will genius fill your 
 purse when it's empty will it go bail for you
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 37 
 
 will it even pay your bill to-night ? But let 
 us drop the subject. Are you fond of the 
 stage ?" 
 
 " Very. In fact, I believe I have a turn 
 that way, for when living with Dr. Killquick, 
 I was a constant visitor at the theatre." 
 
 " Indeed ! Then, perhaps, I may be able 
 to do something for you. I aoi an actor 
 myself." 
 
 " Is it possible?" said I, in my most defe- 
 rential manner ; " yet now I come to look more 
 closely into your features, 1 do think 1 saw you 
 play Hamlet one night at Galway at least I 
 remember a performer being hissed off the 
 stage in that character." 
 
 " Sir, you have a very absurd way of ex- 
 pressing yourself. I never played Hamlet at 
 Galway, and never mean it. The people there 
 are wholly incapable of appreciating a man of 
 mind in such a part." 
 
 I was convinced by this 1 was right, though 
 1 discreetly kept my opinion to myself, while 
 the Thespian proceeded as follows : 
 
 " Yes, Sir, I am not only an actor of expe-
 
 38 SORROWS OF 
 
 rience, but unfortunately also, of just sufficient 
 
 genius to " 
 
 " Excite the jealousy of your brother actors." 
 
 " Egad, you have hit it. The last corps 
 
 to which I attached myself was the one now 
 
 playing at Limerick, where I was a deserved 
 
 favourite ?" 
 
 " How then came you to leave it?" 
 " Leave it ? It was impossible to stay. Why, 
 Sir, would you believe it, notwithstanding the 
 houses I drew as Dennis Brulgruddery, the 
 manager, jealous of my genius, put another 
 man into the part, and not content with this, 
 actually stuck his name in large red letters at 
 the top of the play- bill, while he printed mine 
 in the very smallest type at the bottom just 
 above Vivat Rex ! Scandalous ! Wasn't it ?"" 
 
 " Yes ; but what brings you to this out-of-the- 
 way place ?" 
 
 " I have been assisting at a friend's benefit at 
 Gal way, and am now on my way to join the 
 company at Mollymore^n. Were you to take 
 my advice by-the-by, just hand me over the 
 whiskey, talking always makes me thirsty
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 39 
 
 you would do the same. Talk of pleasure ! 
 The actor is the only man who really knows 
 what it means. At one moment, flush of 
 wealth ; at another, without a sixpence ; this 
 night, figuring in a gorgeous theatre ; the next, 
 in a homely barn; now, sipping champaigne 
 with Squires ; and now, swipes with vagrants ; 
 hanging loose on the skirts of society, a very 
 Arab in independence ; there is no condition in 
 life so replete with all the elements of change, 
 and, consequently, of interest, as that of the 
 actor. True, he has his cares ; but how slight 
 how very slight must these be, when a glass 
 of such punch as this can put them all to flight ! 
 No, no; despite my own ill-luck, your stroller 
 is the happiest dog in existence." 
 
 " You don't say so !"" said I, catching the in- 
 fection of his convivial enthusiasm. 
 
 " Indeed, but I do though. Conceive the 
 ecstasy of a first appearance ! The crowded house 
 the glittering lights the inspiring music 
 the stare of approving critics from the pit, the 
 fond gaze of beauty from the boxes and then, 
 as the first wave of your plumage is caught
 
 40 SORROWS OF 
 
 from the side-wings, the profound, universal 
 hush, so sudden, so intense, that were a God 
 but to blow his nose, there would be an instant 
 cry from all parts of the house, of ' Throw him 
 over !' conceive all this, I say, and allow with 
 me, that the actor's life is the only one to which 
 the name of pleasure can really apply !" 
 
 My fancy was fired by this description ! In 
 idea I was already a Garrick ! My companion 
 marked my emotion. " You would make a 
 capital actor !" he continued, " but I will not 
 press the question further at present. I see 
 you're affected ; probably, by to-morrow, you 
 will be inclined to entertain a favourable opinion 
 of my project. Meantime, let us replenish. 
 Come, I'll give you a toast, ' Success to the 
 stage.' ' All the world's a stage, 1 as the divine 
 Billy says. Not bad, hey ?" 
 
 A fresh bowl was the result of this sally, 
 over which we sate carousing till long past mid- 
 night, when our fuel being exhausted, the can- 
 dles low in the sockets, and the landlord impe- 
 rative, we retired to our dormitories. 
 
 The next morning I woke with a desperate
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 41 
 
 head-ache, which was stilh further increased by 
 the amount of the bill sent in by the landlord ; 
 who deceived, naturally enough, by my appear- 
 ance, had charged me at a most exorbitant rate. 
 This comes of looking like a Gentleman ! 
 
 Rabelais has well observed that the hour 
 of reckoning is the most melancholy in the 
 whole twenty-four. I found it so ; and was 
 ruminating sadly on my destitute state, when 
 my new friend came to my assistance. 
 
 " I can guess you r thoughts,' 1 said he ; 
 " whenever a man puts on a long face, it is 
 always for want of money. 1 ' 1 
 
 " You have guessed right. I am seriously 
 troubled just now on that score." 
 
 "No wonder; all scores are troublesome. 
 But be of good cheer, man, I will pay the 
 reckoning. Nay, no apologies ; I happen to be 
 tolerably well off at present, so can afford to do 
 a good turn. Besides, I have taken a fancy to 
 
 you." 
 
 But, my dear Sir " 
 
 " Not a word, Hal, an thou lovest me. Re- 
 member, I am now in your debt, for you
 
 42 SORROWS OF 
 
 last night saved me from a broken head. If, 
 however, your pride dislikes the idea of obli- 
 gation to a stranger, you have it in your power 
 to appease your conscience by accepting an en- 
 gagement at Mollymoreen. I am sure I shall 
 be able to get you one ; for our company is 
 sadly in want of a novelty. 1 ' 
 
 Needs must when the Devil drives ; so, dis- 
 missing all further solicitude from my mind, 1 
 allowed my friend to discharge the entire reck- 
 oning, which novel task performed, we set for- 
 ward on our journey, under the refreshing in- 
 fluence of a slow drizzle, which threatened 
 to keep us company the whole way to Molly- 
 moreen.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 43 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 STROLLING AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 CONTRARY, I believe, to nine out of ten thea- 
 trical aspirants, I commenced my campaign 
 under very flattering auspices. Thanks to the 
 dramatic predilections of Doctor Killquick, and 
 the licence allowed me in my studies by Father 
 OTlannaghan, I had been in the habit, during 
 my unbe whiskered juvenility, of devouring a 
 vast variety of plays, so that when I entered on 
 my stage career, what with these and the addi- 
 tional advantages of a few preliminary lessons 
 from my new acquaintance, it was not altogether 
 a novelty to me. 
 
 My first appearance was in Romeo. The 
 citizens of Mollymoreen are a remarkably dis- 
 criminating race, for they at once perceived
 
 44 SORROWS OF 
 
 my worth ; and the editor of the leading journal 
 there, in his theatrical critique, published the 
 day after my debut, put forth the following 
 striking and pertinent remarks : " Last night, 
 a Mr. Terence Felix CTBlarney made his first 
 appearance here as Romeo, in the immortal 
 bard's well known play of that name. Barring 
 a slight brogue, this young aspirant possesses 
 every qualification for the part. He has ex- 
 cellent lungs ; is exceedingly vigorous in his 
 movements; and stands nearly, if not quite, 
 six feet in his shoes. His dress was singularly 
 picturesque, and he was received with enthu- 
 siasm by a most respectable and fashionable 
 audience. We understand he appears to-morrow, 
 night as Harlequin. Judging from his Romeo, 
 we should conceive he would play this very dif- 
 ficult part to admiration. Both characters have 
 many points in common ; both are young, ac- 
 tive, in love, and fond of leaping, and condemned 
 by unpropitious destiny to experience the most 
 startling vicissitudes. Wfe wish Mr. CTBlarney 
 all the success that his genius so richly merits." 
 This able criticism brought me into instant
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 45 
 
 notice at Mollymoreen. Indeed, such and so 
 sudden was my reputation, among them, that 
 before my first month had expired, I was pro- 
 moted on the manager's books from 15s. to 
 I/. 5. per week, with the offer of a free benefit 
 at the close of the season. 
 
 My second and third appearances were as 
 Hamlet and Harlequin, both which trying cha- 
 racters I personated the same evening. Public 
 opinion was seriously divided on this occasion. 
 The more intellectual among the community 
 preferred my Hamlet ; the more mercurial, my 
 Harlequin. If, on so delicate a topic, it may 
 be permitted me to volunteer an opinion, I 
 should say, that my Hamlet was the triumph 
 of mind, my Harlequin of muscle. I state this 
 with the less hesitation, because the world long 
 entertained a notion that I myself gave the pre- 
 ference to my Harlequin ; whereas, it was ever 
 my fixed opinion that no parallel could possibly 
 be instituted between the two characters. As 
 well might the fervent passion of a Shakspeare 
 be compared to the sparkling vivacity of a 
 Sheridan.
 
 46 SORROWS OF 
 
 In consequence of my flattering reception at 
 Mollymoreen, I was invited to play the leading 
 parts at every theatre and barn in that civilized 
 quarter of Ireland. This desultory mode of 
 life introduced me to many odd characters, and 
 engaged me in many odd adventures, some of a 
 tragic, others of a comic character. One in 
 particular of the latter class I will recollect, as 
 it took place under circumstances of marked 
 singularity. 
 
 The manager had announced for representa- 
 tion a melodrame, in which, among other at- 
 tractions, was to be introduced a view of the 
 Lakes of Killarney, painted expressly for the 
 occasion. The announcement took prodigiously, 
 and, on the appointed night, the barn was 
 crowded to suffocation. So far, all was well, 
 but, unluckily, just at the moment when we 
 were preparing to draw up the curtain, we dis- 
 covered that our scene painter, in revenge for 
 some real or fancied affront offered him by the 
 manager, had inoculated the entire landscape 
 with charcoal ; and, not content with this lively 
 sample of independence, had actually eloped,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 47 
 
 and, accompanied by the treasurer, carried off 
 with him the night's proceeds. 
 
 Here was a dilemma ! What, in heaven's 
 name, was to be done ? This question we kept 
 perpetually asking each other, but, alas! not 
 one of us all could answer it. 
 
 Meantime the audience became clamorous for 
 the curtain to draw up. Oaths squalls 
 shouts of laughter and threats of vengeance 
 pealed in all directions, and even the orchestra 
 notwithstanding it consisted of two cracked 
 fiddles and a hurdy-gurdy failed to allay the 
 storm. 
 
 In this predicament our manager proposed 
 an appeal to the audience. But here again a 
 difficulty presented itself. Who was to be the 
 spokesman ? Each declined the honour in favour 
 of the other, until at length no better scheme 
 presenting itself it was resolved nem, con. 
 that we should all of us attempt our escape 
 out of a window at the rear of the stage. 
 
 The manager was the first to make the ex- 
 periment, and being of a thin, spare habit, 
 succeeded to his heart's content. The rest fol-
 
 48 SORROWS OF 
 
 lowed in rotation, until it came to the manager's 
 wife's turn, who was an immensely fat woman, 
 of singular exuberance in the rear, and who 
 consequently stuck fast in the window, with her 
 neck and shoulders out, but the rest of her 
 person hanging suspended over the stage. In 
 this grotesque position, she kicked shoved 
 and strove to wriggle herself through the aper- 
 ture. But in vain. Her obesity put a Veto on 
 all hopes of Emancipation. I thiak I never saw 
 a tighter fit ! 
 
 At this critical juncture I was the only one 
 left upon the stage. There was evidently no 
 chance of escape ; so, as a last resource for the 
 audience had by this time become furious I 
 summoned the orchestra; bid them strike up 
 " St. Patrick's Day,'" and then slowly drawing 
 aside the curtain, advanced in front of the stage, 
 made a profound obeisance, and pointing to the 
 fat dame whohung wriggling from the window, 
 exclaimed aloud. " Ladies and gentlemen, be- 
 hold a view of the Lakes of Killarney !" 
 
 / 
 
 Whether the likeness struck them or not, I 
 cannot say ; but never was any appeal more
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 49 
 
 successful. The audience literally shouted with 
 laughter, nor was peace restored till they had 
 testified the excess of their satisfaction by a 
 general fight, in the bustle of which I effected 
 my escape. How the manager's wife effected 
 hers, I know not. Possibly she is sticking in 
 the window to this hour. 
 
 For nearly two seasons I continued in Molly- 
 moreen, the delight of all eyes. My portrait, 
 or something like a portrait, was exhibited at 
 every print-shop ; my witticisms repeated at 
 every table ; my attitudes were the envy of 
 the men, my countenance the admiration of the 
 women. 
 
 Among the number of those to whom my 
 convivial abilities especially recommended them- 
 selves, was a rich, retired old hunks of a trades- 
 man, by name CTBrien. This man had a 
 niece, who though perhaps not much of a 
 beauty, and still less of a chicken in point of 
 age, inasmuch as she was full four years my 
 senior, was yet a circumstance of first-rate mo- 
 ment to one of my way of thinking the ac- 
 knowledged heiress of all her uncle's property. 
 
 VOL. i. n
 
 50 SORROWS OF 
 
 It was chiefly through this lady's manoeuvres 
 that I first got footing in the old man's house, 
 for she had seen me in most of my favourite 
 characters, and being smitten with the faculties 
 of the actor, was prepared by a natural tran- 
 sition to extend her predilection to the man. 
 
 When a woman is once determined on a point, 
 there is little doubt that she will in the long 
 run accomplish it. Convinced that I was the 
 only man who would could should or ought 
 to make her happy Catherine soon con- 
 trived to give me a hint of the nature of her 
 inclinations towards me. In vain did her uncle, 
 who found means to gain possession of her 
 secret, protest, entreat, threaten ; in vain forbid 
 me his house ; in vain talk of disinheriting his 
 niece ; in vain point out to her the madness of 
 marrying a fellow whose sole stock in trade was 
 his assurance ; the young lady's spirit was 
 up, and she vowed with a saucy toss of the 
 head, that she would marry the man of her 
 choice, and him alone. 
 
 I of course reciprocated these sentiments, but 
 frequent and various were the hazards I en-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN, 51 
 
 countered in my efforts to impress them on the 
 heart of Catherine. Once, while waiting for 
 her at midnight by the garden-gate, I was mis- 
 taken by her uncle for a robber, and very nearly 
 brought down at a long shot ; on another occa- 
 sion, I was saluted with the contents of a slop- 
 pail from a garret window ; and in a third in- 
 stance, I was kept cooling my heels a full hour 
 beneath the moonlight, till my teeth chattered 
 like a pair of castanets. Making love by mid- 
 night, when the thermometer is below zero, is 
 harder work than most people seem to have any 
 idea of. 
 
 But perseverance does wonders, and by the 
 assistance of the friend who had first introduced 
 me to the stage, I contrived to obtain first. 
 one secret interview then a second then a 
 third then a fourth, fifth, and sixth until at 
 length it became but too clear that nothing was 
 left but an elopement. 
 
 Mr. O'Brien was panic-stricken when the 
 intelligence of this impending event first 
 reached his ears. By way of preventive he 
 
 D2
 
 52 SORROWS OF 
 
 had instant recourse to locks, bolts, and bars ; 
 but finding that even these expedients failed, he 
 made a virtue of necessity, and finally consented 
 to our union. 

 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 53 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE ECLIPSE OF THE HONEY-MOON. 
 
 tf 
 
 WITHIX a week from the day when the nup- 
 tial knot was tied, Mrs. O'Blarney and myself 
 started off for the Continent. Old O'Brien, 
 who, notwithstanding his munificence to Cathe- 
 rine, was very contracted and tradesmanlike in 
 his notions, was almost paralyzed at the gran- 
 deur of our intentions, and would fain have 
 kept us under his own eye in Ireland ; but the 
 lady was bent on seeing the world, and would 
 listen neither to advice nor remonstrance. 
 
 Our first stay of any duration was at Paris. 
 I had long heard that this city was famous for 
 the Fine Arts and truly I never met with such 
 finished specimens of cookery. As for my wife,
 
 54 SORROWS OF 
 
 she was in ecstasies. Paris was for a time her 
 El Dorado her fairy land. 
 
 After a stay, just long enough to beget ennui, 
 we quitted the French capital for Frankfort, 
 whence we made a hasty tour through some of the 
 minor German principalities. The magnificence 
 of a few of these quite astounded me. Think 
 of his Serene Highness the Prince of Saxe 
 Schweighausen, with upwards of sixty quarter- 
 ings on his arms, being absolute lord and master 
 of a territory containing nearly ten thousand 
 inhabitants, yielding a clear revenue of almost 
 nine hundred pounds per annum, and support- 
 ing an army of some twelve dozen private 
 soldiers, exclusive of six field officers, and a 
 band worthy to vie with the orchestra of one of 
 our minor theatres ! 
 
 To this most puissant sovereign I had the 
 honour of being publicly presented at court. 
 To be sure, the exhibition cost me half a crown 
 in fees. But what of that ? Royalty is not, 
 like Punch, an. every day show. Besides, his 
 Highness was, without exception, the fattest
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 55 
 
 man I had ever seen, and in England it would 
 have cost me a shilling only to see a prize ox. 
 
 We found the metropolis of this mighty 
 monarch's kingdom in a grievous state of excite- 
 ment. An Italian singer at that time quite 
 the rage on the Continent had engaged to 
 give a series of vocal performances at Schweig- 
 hausen, but, just at the very moment when the 
 royal family and noblesse were all anxious ex- 
 pectation, the fair cantatrice split upon terms, 
 and declared off. Here was a shock to the 
 Grand Monarque ! Never had such an affront 
 been put upon himself or his principality ! It 
 became quite a national affair. A Cabinet Coun- 
 cil was instantly summoned, which, after some 
 hours' deliberation, dispatched a courier, with 
 sealed despatches, to the contumelious vocal- 
 ist ; while, from the hurryings to and fro of , 
 the dames of honour, and the grave, mysterious 
 looks of the courtiers, you would have sworn 
 a revolution was impending. How the affair 
 ended I know not, as I did not stay to see ; but 
 I heard, subsequently, that the Cabinet, deem- 
 ing it beneath the national dignity to reinforce
 
 56 SOKROWS OF 
 
 the army and proclaim war against a woman, 
 wisely came into her terms, which were so ex- 
 orbitant, that they crippled the Exchequer for 
 months afterwards. 
 
 From Schweighausen, we ascended the Rhine, 
 where, for the first and last time in my life, 
 I witnessed the perfection of river-scenery. I 
 have no very acute apprehension of the pic- 
 turesque ; but I shall never forget this voyage. 
 Imagine a stream, now expanding into a lake, 
 and now contracting into a canal, with a thou- 
 sand laughing rivulets leaping into it on either 
 side, as if delighted to enhance its beauty and 
 share in its renown now dark with the shadows 
 of overhanging cliffs, and now reflecting images 
 of sunny, pastoral loveliness here, a grey, 
 solitary fragment of a castle, still breathing 
 the spirit of its old grandeur, starting up like 
 a spectre before your eyes; and there, a grace- 
 ful modern chateau, apt haunt of love and 
 beauty in one place a luxuriant slope flush 
 of vineyards, and crowned with romantic ter- 
 races ; in another, a village hanging, as it were, 
 self-poised in air, above the regions of the clouds.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN'. 57 
 
 while, ever as the magic stream wafts you 
 onward, island mountain city town and 
 monastery, appear and disappear like dreams ! 
 Oh ! never was so unequalled an assemblage of 
 all that is sublime and beautiful in nature or art. 
 Well may the Germans be proud of their le- 
 gendary river. A fairer stream never graced the 
 plains of Arcady, or wandered through the 
 groves of Eden. 
 
 Our next visit was to Switzerland. My wife's 
 romance was here more on the alert than even 
 on the waters of the Rhine. We peeped at a 
 glacier explored a waterfall climbed half an 
 Alp or so and stared at Mont Blanc through 
 an opera glass. One day, while, for want of 
 something better to do, we were floating lazily 
 over the unwrinkled bosom of the Leman, we 
 came alongside a slim young Englishman, of a 
 sallow, romantic cast of countenance, who was 
 fast asleep in his boat, close under the immortal 
 rocks of Meillerie. Just as our vessel passed, 
 a book dropped from his hand into the water. 
 We took it up. It was Rousseau's Eloise ! En- 
 viable enthusiasm ! 
 
 D3
 
 58 SORROWS OF 
 
 Having gazed our fill on the Helvetian rocks, 
 lakes and mountains, we once more set out on 
 our wanderings, and, in the course of a reason- 
 able period, with a facility quite humiliating to 
 all amatuers of the wild and the wonderful, ar- 
 rived in safety at Naples. 
 
 Of all the continental cities, commend me to 
 this. . It is the Eden of Ausonia an enchanted 
 region, where all is song and sunshine, love, 
 romance and festivity. Still, even here, one 
 thing is wanting to complete felicity, and 
 this one want I but too soon began to expe- 
 rience. What with our visits to Paris, Frank- 
 fort, Swisserland, and the other etceteras inci- 
 dental to such an expensive and desultory mode 
 of life, I found, after a fortnight's residence on 
 the Strada Chiaja, that my wife's fortune was 
 daily oozing out of my possession, so, in order 
 to supply the deficiency, I was compelled to 
 have recourse to gaming. 
 
 For a long time I concealed this propensity 
 from Mrs. CTBlarney. But what can escape 
 the lynx eye of curiosity ? It so happened that 
 she was one day smitten with a sudden fancy to
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 59 
 
 make a purchase of some tempting bijouterie ; 
 when, on applying to me, she found that I was 
 wholly unable to accommodate her. 
 
 In the course of the evening, a mutual 
 explanation took place, when I candidly told 
 Catherine that, unless she assigned over to me 
 the annuity, which the suspicions of her uncle 
 had settled on her, I should infallibly become a 
 ruined man. To my astonishment she refused, 
 adding, that, in future, nothing should prevent 
 her doing that justice to herself, which I had so 
 scandalously neglected. The remark was cut- 
 ting, and, under the circumstances, ungenerous, 
 though its severity was somewhat blunted, by 
 the promise, which my wife shortly after made 
 me, of writing to Mr. O'Brien a statement of 
 our embarrassments, with a request that he would 
 render us prompt pecuniary assistance. To this 
 note I attached a postcript, inclosing a Neapo- 
 litan physician's receipt for the gout. 
 
 By the earliest post for the old man prided 
 himself on his punctuality an answer was re- 
 turned to our application. But, alas ! its im- 
 port was any thing but flattering. The writer
 
 CO SORROWS OF 
 
 began by observing that he could not think of 
 advancing money to people so little acquainted 
 with its value ; that he had always anticipated 
 this would be the result of Catherine's ill-ad- 
 vised marriage, which she might do him the 
 justice to remember he had resolutely opposed 
 from the first ; that he thought, under the cir- 
 cumstances, the best thing we could both do, 
 would be to retrench our household expenditure, 
 and in the bosom of a strict and cheap seclusion, 
 strive to regain that composure, of which, it, was 
 but too evident, we both stood in need. The 
 letter concluded by thanking me for my receipt 
 for the gout, which, however, the churlish old 
 fox asserted, whether intended to do so or not, 
 had made him infinitely worse than he was be- 
 fore he had recourse to it. 
 
 This reply decided my fate. Poverty having 
 come in at the door, timid Love, as a matter 
 of course, was prepared to make his exit by 
 the window. Henceforth I met with nothing 
 but reproaches from my wife. For some weeks, 
 however, I bore her altered conduct with sub- 
 missiveness. When I espied a frown on her
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 61 
 
 brow, I strove with words of endearment to 
 avert the thunder- cloud ; I reminded her of the 
 days of our courtship, when she was my Juliet 
 and I was her Romeo : but, alas ! at the very 
 moment when her heart was softening, the 
 slightest allusion to the annuity would bring 
 back all her unpoetic notions of self-interest. 
 
 Day by day, hour by hour, Mrs. O'Elarney's 
 ill-humour increased. If one moment she was 
 comparatively serene, the next she blew a hur- 
 ricane. Having been a spoiled child from her 
 very cradle, she had little or no command of 
 temper. To soften was difficult to subdue 
 her impossible. As well might I have attempted 
 to check Niagara with a bull-rush. 
 
 Such was my domestic position, when one 
 disastrous evening, after I had earnestly sup- 
 plicated my wife to accommodate me, if only 
 by way of loan, with the usual half-yearly al- 
 lowance which she had just received from her 
 uncle, in order that I might disembarrass my- 
 self of certain pecuniary obligations, and be 
 enabled to turn over a new leaf, the impetuous
 
 OZ SORROWS OF 
 
 lady not only refused my petition, but pointed 
 her refusal by some scornful allusions to, what 
 she called, my general profligacy. 
 
 Stung to the quick by her manner, I threat- 
 ened to take leave of her for ever ; on which 
 she replied, 
 
 "Oh, do pray go ! I desire nothing better; 
 the very sight of you is odious to me. Would 
 to Heaven, I had never met with such a mon- 
 ster !" 
 
 " Monster, forsooth ! you must have been 
 looking in your glass lately, my dear, which 
 has made the monstrous familiar to you. 11 
 
 The cool way in which I said this had quite 
 an electrical effect on my wife, who forthwith 
 proceeded to pour on me such a torrent of abuse, 
 that at last my patience wholly gave way, and 
 springing down stairs I was out of sight in an 
 instant. 
 
 On reaching the street I kept wandering up 
 and down, cursing my evil destiny, and endea- 
 vouring to shape out some plans for the future, 
 till finding that I could settle down to nothing,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 63 
 
 I dismissed all further reflection, and bent my 
 steps towards one of the public cafes. 
 
 Here I remained for upwards of half an hour, 
 and by way of calming down my ruffled spirits, 
 swallowed bumper after bumper of the very 
 headiest wine I could lay my hands on. With 
 a brain thus heated by excitement, and 'of course 
 craving still further stimulus, I strolled into the 
 San Carlos, where, after looking about me for 
 some time, and being challenged to try my 
 luck at a game of hazard, I threw down a piece 
 of gold was successful threw down a second 
 a third then trebled and quadrupled my 
 stakes, till at length after an hour's play, with- 
 out the slightest effort of skill, I came away the 
 winner of upwards of a hundred pounds. 
 
 Such a run of good luck completely upset 
 what little judgment I ever possessed. I felt 
 my heart warm again to ray wife ; and imme- 
 diately on quitting the gaming-table, flew home- 
 wards, fully resolved, in the wild glee of the 
 moment, to make her the amende honorable, 
 though I must confess at the same time that I 
 was in that feverish, unsettled state of mind,
 
 Oit SORROWS OF 
 
 when a sneer, 01 even a frown, is sufficient to 
 turn the scale and upset all one's best resolu- 
 tions. 
 
 " So you have come back ?" said my wife, 
 
 misconstruing the motives of my return, " and 
 
 a pretty condition you have returned in !"" for 
 
 * my flushed countenance was too marked to 
 
 escape her notice. 
 
 " For God's sake, Catherine, be quiet, or 
 
 else " 
 
 " Do'nt think to frighten me, Sir. I care 
 nothing for the threats of a man I despise. 
 You have insulted me too grossly to be for- 
 given, and now, by way of atonement, you 
 come back in a state of intoxication. Shame 
 on you ! I wonder you can dare to look me in 
 the face ! " 
 
 " Catherine," said I, with an effort at calm- 
 ness, " listen to me, and for the last time I 
 have come back, believe me or not, as you 
 please, solely for the purpose of making repa- 
 ration for " 
 
 " Reparation ! Is it by your drunkenness 
 you hope to make reparation ?"
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 65 
 
 " Perhaps so, perhaps not. However, be 
 this as it may, my return is now prompted by 
 the best of motives." 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied my wife, with a sneer, 
 " I know the motives well. I can see through 
 them, Sir." 
 
 ' ' Hear me out," said I, in a voice of thunder. 
 
 " I won't." 
 
 4i Insulting termagant !" 
 
 " Drunken brute !" 
 
 " Spiteful, unforgiving, old " 
 
 The word " old" touched my wife in the 
 sorest point. " Spiteful' 1 she might have passed 
 over " unforgiving" she might have smiled at 
 but " old" there was too much truth in the 
 phrase to be readily digested, so despairing in 
 the phrenzy of the moment of finding words 
 adequate to her feelings, she actually flew for 
 assistance to the foot-stool ; discharged it with- 
 out ceremony at my head ; and then as I rushed 
 a second time from the house, flew after me 
 crying at the very top of her voice, " Aye, 
 go do go I dare you to go Brute ! Mon- 
 ster ! Barbarian ! Old indeed !"
 
 60 SORROWS OF 
 
 This last insult was not to be borne ; and 
 when I reflected on the motives that had drawn 
 me home again ; that I had sought my wife in 
 a frank, conciliatory spirit, and, instead of being 
 met by answering courtesy, had been treated 
 worse than a dog, I became (an unusual thing 
 with me) quite beside myself with passion, and 
 before I was well aware of my proximity, found 
 myself standing close beside the quay. 
 
 Night was now drawing on, and it so happened 
 that a felucca, taking advantage of a favouring 
 wind, was just about to set sail for Marseilles. 
 The opportunity was irresistible. Judgment 
 discretion principle all, all obeyed the head- 
 long impulse of the moment ; and, with my wife's 
 taunts still ringing in my ears ; the footstool still 
 whistling about my head ; and a busy devil at 
 my elbow goading me on to ruin ; I sought out 
 the captain of the vessel, caught him just as 
 he was stepping into a boat, and concluded 
 with him for a conveyance to Marseilles. 
 
 An instant after, and I was on board. The 
 signal was made for sailing, the vessel shot 
 merrily through the waters, and I was far ad-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 67 
 
 vanced on ray voyage across the Bay, ere 1 
 called to mind my deserted wife. Infatuated 
 man ! But remorse was then of no avail. It 
 was too late to return. Besides, had it even 
 been possible, I felt convinced I could never 
 have mustered assurance enough again to face 
 the woman whom I could not but feel I had 
 wronged. My very modesty rose in arms 
 against me. Et tu Brute ! 
 
 After a brief voyage the felucca reached 
 Marseilles, where I waited just one day to make 
 some necessary purchases, and then set off for 
 England.
 
 68 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE MODERN BABYLON. 
 
 BEHOLD me now in London in that Titanic 
 metropolis which is the envy and wonder of 
 Europe; the heavings of whose mighty heart 
 thrill to the uttermost regions of earth ; whose 
 merchant-flag is familiar with every wave, and 
 streams in every port; who is the prolific 
 foster-parent of all aits, all professions, and all 
 trades, encouraging alike the adept and the 
 quack, the honest man and the knave, and 
 combining exhaustless wealth with abject pe- 
 nury, the most refined civilization with the 
 grossest barbarism ; behold me in this paradox 
 of a metropolis, placed in the very thick of its 
 crowd, yet oppressed with feelings of the most 
 forlorn solitude. Oh ! there is no sense of de-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 69 
 
 solation so complete as that experienced by a 
 friendless stranger, on his first introduction to 
 London. Talk of an Arabian desert! It is smi- 
 ling animated encouraging in comparison. 
 To meet a frown on every brow, a sneer on 
 every lip ; to be distrusted as an adventurer, 
 and, with the purest intentions, to be perpe- 
 tually misconstrued ; to supplicate, where there 
 are few or none to pity ; to die of a broken 
 heart in the midst of rejoicing ; of famine, in 
 the midst of plenty ; and then, as if the cup of 
 wretchedness were not drained to the dregs, to 
 be carried out of a workhouse on four rough 
 boards ; flung like a dog into his hole, with 
 just a prayer or two mumbled coldly and 
 hurriedly above one^s remains, as if they were 
 scarce worth salvation ; this it is to be poor 
 and friendless in London ! 
 
 To be the idol of every circle ; to drivel like 
 a fool, yet to be pronounced a sage ; to be a 
 gentleman, ivhen it is manifest you are his anti- 
 podes ; to see woman's eye light up at your 
 approach, and the fat porter at the great man^s 
 gate, bustle forward at the hazard of his neck
 
 70 SORROWS OF 
 
 to usher you into the great man's presence ; to 
 be the ' Sir Oracle" of ton, and the hero of a 
 fashionable novel ; to be painted by Lawrence, 
 and engraved by Finden ; and when put to 
 death by a licensed physician, to be followed to 
 your long home by some do/en agonized ac- 
 quaintances, while the parson prays his best 
 above your gilt coffin, and a splendid mauso- 
 leum records your worth to all posterity ; this 
 it is to be wealthy and well connected in 
 London ! 
 
 Oh London, thou art the rich man's Heaven, 
 but the poor man's Hell ! 
 
 Oh London, who art the cradle and the grave 
 of Hope, how many aspiring pilgrims, some 
 destined to achieve celebrity, but more to die 
 neglected and broken-hearted, are at this mo- 
 ment, while 1 write, bending their steps towards 
 thee ! What acts too of folly, madness, and 
 guilt, are at the same instant of time in course 
 of perpetration within thy circuit ! Yet if sin 
 profane thy name, the virtues, sure, redeem it 
 by their presence. Lo, thou canst boast Hu- 
 mility in lawn sleeves; meek Charity making
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 public announcement of her benefactions ; Mo- 
 desty gazing at some half-denuded dancer 
 through an opera glass ; and Patriotism de- 
 fending the pension-list from a back seat on 
 the treasury bench ! 
 
 Oh London, who can listen to thy eternal 
 whirl and roar who can gaze on thy palaces, 
 thy temples, thy solemn, gray cathedrals, or 
 pause on the stately fabrics that span thy fa- 
 mous stream, scarce seen for the forest of masts 
 which crowd and blacken above its bosom to an 
 extent no eye can traverse who can pace the 
 wondrous range of thy streets and squares, 
 stretching away, as if to infinity, in showy 
 splendour or sombre grandeur; who can 
 " read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" all 
 this, and not feel every petty, personal con- 
 sciousness of Self swallowed up in an overpower- 
 ing sense of astonishment and admiration ? 
 
 Yet, oh vain ambitious paradoxical Lon- 
 don, lay not the flattering unction to thy soul, 
 that because thou art great, thou art necessarily 
 immortal. Already the seeds of decay are at 
 thy heart. Thou art dying by inches of a pie-
 
 72 SOKUOWS or 
 
 thora. Thou art swollen and bloated with a 
 dropsy, though thy massive shoulders and won- 
 drous breadth of chest might seem to promise a 
 lengthened life. Dream not then of immorta- 
 lity, but fall to thy studies, and learn wisdom 
 from the past. Think of Rome, now the " Niobe 
 of nations," but once queen-regent of the uni- 
 verse ! What she is, thou must one day be. 
 The time shall come when thy gorgeous edi- 
 fices shall fall, like hers, in ruins to earth ; 
 when the grass shall grow in thy streets ; when 
 the owl shall hoot from thy roofless palaces, 
 and the adder crawl into sunshine from among 
 thy mouldering fanes ; when Silence and Soli- 
 tude (twin mourners) shall sit with foldfd arms 
 and weeping eyes beside thy grave ; and the 
 pilgrim from some far-off land, as he wanders 
 through a scene of desolation, shall say "And 
 was this London ?" 
 
 I have given thee good advice, London, scarce 
 hoping that thou wilt follow it ; and thus having 
 discharged my duty as a patriot and a moralist, 
 I descend from my stilts and resume the lan- 
 guage of common life.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 73 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE IRISHMAN IN LONDON. 
 
 THE first few mornings of my arrival were 
 spent in a survey of the various public build- 
 ings in and about the metropolis I remem- 
 ber in particular being much struck with New- 
 gate while my evenings were devoted to the 
 theatres, and wound up by a social glass at one 
 or other of the taverns in which the vestal vici- 
 nity of Covent Garden abounds. 
 
 With respect to a profession, my first serious 
 views were of course directed to the stage, and 
 accordingly when I had devoted quite sufficient 
 time to the gentlemanlike occupation of doing 
 nothing, I presented myself early one morning 
 at the stage-door of Drury Lane theatre : en- 
 quired of a servant in attendance, whether the 
 
 VOL. i. E
 
 74 SORROWS OF 
 
 t/r&> 
 
 great Lessee -iMfe within ; and if so, whether he 
 could honour me with an audience. 
 
 The man glanced at the modest, humble ex- 
 pression of my countenance ; I understood the 
 hint, and knew the manager was out. 
 
 The next day I called, and met with the like 
 success. The great man was busy, and could 
 not be disturbed. The third day he was at re- 
 hearsal ; the fourth, he was reading a new pie'ce 
 in the green-room ; the fifth, he was negociat- 
 ing an amicable arrangement with the hind- 
 legs of an elephant, both of which had struck 
 for an advance of wages ; but, on the sixth, as 
 he had only two small melo-dramatists with 
 him, he condescended to favour me with an 
 audience. 
 
 On entering his august presence, I opened 
 the proceedings by a few brief allusions to 
 my astonishing success in Ireland, but saw at 
 once, from the expression of his face, and the 
 shrug of his broad, fat shoulders, that I had 
 not the slightest chance. Indeed he hinted as 
 much before I had well finished my exordium, 
 and then starting off from the subject, began
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 to bewail his hard fate in being compelled to 
 sacrifice health, time, and inclination, on the 
 altar of public interest ; spoke of the important 
 calls on his attention that daily beset him, from 
 individuals of the highest rank and influence in 
 the kingdom, and that, consequently, I might 
 deem myself fortunate in the opportunity of 
 seeing him, but for ten minutes ; rang the bell, 
 and brought round him a whole host of thea- 
 trical subalterns, to each of whom he issued his 
 mandates, with all the air of a despot ; and then 
 cast a side-long glance at me, to see whether I 
 were duly impressed with a sense of his tem- 
 poral grandeur. 
 
 But I neither fainted nor went off in hys- 
 terics, but perfectly unruffled, as though I 
 were talking to a mere Unit like myself, said, 
 " I presume, then, Sir, you decline my services." 
 
 " Unquestionably, my good fellow ;" then, as 
 if he had committed himself by too much fami- 
 liarity, he added, with a formal bend of the 
 head, "you may retire, young man ; we have 
 business of importance to transact with our 
 worthy friends here just now." And so ended 
 
 E2
 
 76 SOKROWS OF 
 
 my first and last interview with the manager of 
 a London theatre ! 
 
 My next speculation was in periodical litera- 
 ture. But here, too, I was as unsuccessful 
 as with the stage. All the editors of all 
 the current magazines seemed to have con- 
 spired to drive me frantic with disappointment. 
 G rave as well as gay , prose as well as verse, every 
 tale, essay, criticism and epigram I contributed, 
 met with precisely the same treatment. This, 
 however, was to have been expected, for what 
 author who dates from a first floor front, with a 
 French dancing master constantly practising on 
 a violin over his head, and a great, healthy va- 
 gabond, crying " Sprats" every hour of the day 
 under his window, can hope to write any thing 
 worth reading ? 
 
 Luckily, about this time, I was in the fre- 
 quent habit of meeting with the late Colonel 
 
 at a tavern in the neighbourhood of Covent 
 Garden. This well-known old roue, whose 
 brain was a perfect granary of fashionable anec- 
 dote, and who had been closely connected 
 with Royalty in its most convivial and confi-
 
 A BASHFUL I1USHMAN. 77 
 
 dential moments, was never so happy, or so 
 much in his element, as when he could procure 
 a respectful listener : and as I suited him admi- 
 rably in this respect never yawning, never 
 looking incredulous, and, above all, never 
 laughing in the wrong place he took a pro- 
 digious fancy to me, and entertained me with 
 lots of sly, quaint, piquant anecdotes, in which 
 I could not but fancy I perceived the germs of 
 more than one fashionable novel. 
 
 Following up this bright idea, I took care 
 to glean all the various stores of gossip the old 
 man possessed ; after which I proceeded^ clothe 
 them from the wardrobe of my own invention ; 
 superadded a plot full of delicate entanglements; 
 an impassioned love intrigue or two; an "in- 
 tensely"" interesting heroine, who, like the Pa- 
 phian Venus, wore her zone loosened ; and a brisk 
 Bond-street Adonis, more accomplished than a 
 Crichton, but more profligate than a Rochester. 
 This done, behold a Fashionable Novel ! 
 
 So far, so good. My next endeavour was to 
 secure the assistance of some stirring, influen- 
 tial publisher. In this I succeeded beyond my
 
 78 SORROWS OF 
 
 hopes (chiefly in consequence of my Carlton 
 House anecdotage) ; and in the course of a few 
 weeks, had the satisfaction of seeing my " Bon 
 Ton" duly advertised among the forthcoming 
 novelties of the season, as a " tale of real life, 
 by an author of the highest distinction." 
 
 No sooner had the work appeared, than pub- 
 lic attention was still further attracted towards 
 it, by a series of mysterious paragraphs in the 
 papers, indirectly ascribing it to the eloquent 
 arid sprightly pen of his Royal Highness the 
 
 Duke of ; and, that nothing might 
 
 be wanting to confirm its celebrity, a fresh 
 string of advertisements was issued, with the 
 following extracts from the literary journals of 
 the day attached to them by way of rider; 
 
 " ' Bon Ton' is a tale of first-rate ability ; the author is 
 the Scott of fashionable life." London Museum. 
 
 " A most talented tale, full of point, wit, and sarcasm. 
 The writer forcibly reminds us of Sheridan." Weekly Lit. 
 Miscellany. 
 
 " We have been favoured with an early copy of this 
 work (which is yet unpublished) and may conscientiously 
 say of the author that he is quite a prose Byron." Town 
 and Country Magazine. 
 
 " Transcendant ! astonishing ! superlative." Star.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 7^ 
 
 " It is truly refreshing in this age of cant and humbug 
 to meet w ith a novel like ' Bon Ton ' penned in the good 
 old spirit of Smollett and Fielding." Weekly Repository. 
 
 " The puns of this exceedingly facetious novelist are 
 worthy of Mr. Rogers, the eminent banker." John Bull. 
 
 From these discriminating criticisms, it will na- 
 turally be concluded that " Bon Ton" created 
 quite a sensation in the world of fashion and 
 literature. But no, nothing of the sort. Not- 
 withstanding I attired my hero in lavender-co- 
 loured slippers ; made him sarcastic on port 
 wine ; intolerant of those abandoned miscreants 
 who eat fish with a knife and fork ; learned on 
 all gastronomic matters ; and profoundly igno- 
 rant of the locality of Russell-square; not- 
 withstanding all this, "Bon Ton"" fell as still-born 
 from the press, as if no royal duke had been 
 conjectured to be its author ! 
 
 Having thus failed in fact, I thought (for 
 the cacoethes scribendl was still strong on me) 
 I would next have recourse to fiction. Nothing 
 venture, nothing gain ; so I set about a History 
 of Italy, with which my residence at Naples 
 had of course made me familiarly acquainted.
 
 80 SORROWS OF 
 
 Strange to tell, my book, even though filled 
 with elaborate descriptions of Rome a city 
 which nothing but an accident prevented me 
 from visiting met with as discouraging a re- 
 ception as "Bon Ton" nay, I may even add, a 
 worse, for on bargaining for a portmanteau a few 
 months afterwards in Long Acre, I found it 
 lined with one of my most impassioned apos- 
 trophes to the glory of ancient Rome ! 
 
 This was vexatious, but it was not my only 
 grievance. Misfortunes never drizzle upon a 
 man's head. They always pour down on him 
 in torrents. The landlady, 
 
 " Oh ! sound of fear, 
 
 Unpleasing to an author's ear," 
 
 at whose house 1 boarded, having long sus- 
 pected my condition, now began to look after 
 me with that restless curiosity which a discreet 
 father exhibits towards an only son who has 
 evinced a predilection for the sea. At first the 
 good dame's inquisitiveness was confined with- 
 in the pale of politeness ; but at length as my 
 arrears with her increased, she exchanged the
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 81 
 
 oblique glance for the direct frown, and daily 
 vented her spleen in coarse allusions to my ap- 
 petite. 
 
 My situation was now become really critical. 
 My money was nearly all expended, and my 
 entire wardrobe was on my back. This last 
 was " the unkindest cut of all," for any one ac- 
 quainted with London life, knows that a good 
 coat is half the secret of success. Boys dress 
 well from vanity ; men from policy. 
 
 Such was my condition, when one day, while 
 seated at a coffee-shop, I chanced to read in the 
 Times journal some proposals for the establish- 
 mentof a new literary institution in the metropo- 
 lis. Quick as lightning the idea crossed my brain 
 that I might possibly obtain one of the lecture- 
 ships ; so, without a moment's delay, I dispatched 
 a long, elaborate letter to Brougham, who was 
 mentioned as being one of the warmest patrons 
 of the institution ; in which, after enumerating 
 my intellectual qualifications, I proposed my- 
 self as a lecturer on whatever branch of know- 
 ledge he might feel inclined to suggest. I 
 added that, though I did not object to teach 
 
 E3
 
 82 SORROWS OF 
 
 mathematics, metaphysics, chemistry, moral 
 philosophy, jurisprudence, the fine arts, elocu- 
 tion, music, or even dancing, yet that my re- 
 searches lay chiefly in the Belles Lettres. 
 
 Within the week I received an answer to this 
 application, in which, after complimenting me 
 in the most flattering terms on my modesty, the 
 illustrious statesman declined my services, on 
 the very natural plea that they would excite 
 universal envy. 
 
 Well, this avenue to fortune closed, a variety 
 of others suggested themselves. First I thought 
 of a merchant's counting-house ; but this idea 
 was no sooner suggested than it was laid aside, 
 for where and how was I to procure the requi- 
 site certificate of character, ability, and so 
 forth ? 
 
 Next I bethought me of the law. This 
 while it lasted, was an agreeable illusion enough, 
 fraught with imposing images of the bench, the 
 woolsack, and the king's conscience. But when 
 I came to look at the question in a worldly, 
 common-sense spirit ; more especially when I 
 reflected that without impudence a lawyer is as
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. W 
 
 sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal, I felt with 
 a sigh that the defects of nature were insupe- 
 rable. 
 
 At last a grand idea struck me. I resolved 
 to try the Press. I had often heard and read 
 of those sprightly adventurers who contrive to 
 earn a subsistence by picking up, or in case of 
 need, inventing accidents, &c. for the newspa- 
 pers, so presented myself at a dull period at the 
 Planet newspaper office with an affecting report 
 of a young lady who had swallowed a tea-cup 
 full of arsenic and water, under the influence of 
 derangement brought on by the " diabolical" 
 conduct of a young guardsman who had se- 
 duced her. 
 
 This paragraph being well-timed, was much 
 approved ; became the subject of an indignant 
 leading article in many of the ensuing Sunday 
 journals, " on the demoralized condition of the 
 higher classes," and went the round of the 
 provincial Press under the title of " shocking 
 suicide." 
 
 My next literary perpetration was a Hatton- 
 Garden police report, wherein I detailed the
 
 84 SORROWS OF 
 
 particulars of a pugilistic encounter between 
 two Irish hodmen in a style of the most ran- 
 pant vivacity. About this time too, I contri- 
 buted a foot and a half of good jokes weekly to 
 the Looker-on, for which the editor, who was 
 himself a wag of the first water, and liked, as 
 he said, to encourage genius, remunerated me 
 at a very handsome rate. But my chief reli- 
 ance was on the Planet newspaper, on which, 
 by adroit flatter,y of the proprietor an odd lit- 
 tle fellow with a style of writing " peculiarly 
 his own" 1 I contrived to gain so strong a hold, 
 that after a month's probation, I was declared 
 to be master of my business, and placed on the 
 establishment as a sort of flying Reporter of all 
 work. 
 
 In this capacity I exhibited powers of inven- 
 tion that would have-done honour to a Scotch 
 novelist. Scarcely a day passed, but a Mrs. 
 Tomkins and her only daughter fell from a one- 
 horse chaise in Tavistock or Brunswick-squares ; 
 or a Mr. Sibthorpe, a stout gentleman of 
 sixty with a wig and six children, broke his 
 leg by stumbling over a bit of orange-peel
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 85 
 
 which some urchin had inconsiderately flung 
 upon the pavement. My phenomena were 
 equally creditable to my fancy. The Planet 
 abounded in accounts of extraordinary goose- 
 berries, which measured four inches round the 
 waist ; of Irish potatoes, on which could be 
 clearly traced the words " Daniel CTConnell ;"" 
 of three children born impromptu at a birth ; 
 of goats without beards ; cows with five legs ; 
 and donkeys with horns like my Lord . 
 
 Not unfrequently, when " extra hands" were 
 wanted, I made my appearance in the gallery in 
 the House of Commons infinitely to the an- 
 noyance of the practised and well-educated gen- 
 tlemen who attended there not one of whom, 
 however, came near me, whether in eloquence of 
 style, originality of metaphor, or vivacity of 
 logic. They stuck to fact, I expatiated in the 
 airy regions of fiction. 
 
 But ingratitude is the vice of public men in 
 England. I had actually not distinguished 
 myself above a dozen times in the gallery, 
 when I was summoned to the bar, for a breach
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 of privilege contained in a report of one of Sir 
 William Wiseacre's orations ; reprimanded by 
 the Speaker in a style that brought the blood of 
 a hundred ancestors into my cheeks ; and then 
 formally dismissed the Planet establishment. 
 In justification of his complaint. Sir Wiiliam 
 urged that he was not in the House at the time 
 I attributed to him the speech in question, and 
 that nothing but the unparalleled impudence of 
 
 the forgery should have but I need say no 
 
 more. Men of bashful temperament will at 
 once appreciate the motives for my silence. 
 
 I should have mentioned that while engaged 
 on the Planet, I had, in order to fill up my 
 leisure time, been in the habit of occasionally 
 advertising as a private teacher of the clas- 
 sics, arithmetic, &c., to which advertisements 
 I had hitherto received no satisfactory replies. 
 It chanced, however, that a few days previous 
 to my dismissal from the gallery, a letter 
 dated Walworth was brought me by the 
 twopenny post, wherein the writer stated that 
 having seen A B's advertisement, and being in
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 87 
 
 want of a tutor for his son, he would feel ob- 
 liged, if said A B would " step up," when if 
 terms and so forth were approved, the parties 
 might " do business" together. 
 
 The quaint, dry wording of this missive gave 
 me no great hopes of success. However, it did 
 not become me to be fastidious, so flinging dis- 
 trust to the winds, I made the best of my way 
 to the place pointed out in the address. 
 
 The writer, Mr. Stephen Spinks, a cheese- 
 monger, was at home when I called, busily en- 
 gaged with some customers behind the counter. 
 On learning the purport of my visit, he made no 
 more ado, but came at once to the point with 
 me ; while, at the same time, in order that busi- 
 ness might not be neglected, he dispatched 
 matters with his customers. " So, Mr. What- 
 dyecairum, 1 " he began, " you're the A B, I 
 'spose, as is to teach my Dick classics. Clever 
 boy, Dick, sharp as a needle ; has got Omer 
 at his fingers 1 ends ; do your heart good to hear 
 him ; 51 then turning to his shop-lad, " I say, 
 Jack, why don't you serve that 'ere gentleman ? 
 he's been waiting these five minutes. So as I
 
 88 SOllROWS OF 
 
 was a saying, Sir, Dick s as sharp as A 
 
 pound of Stilton, Ma'am ? We never sells it 
 by the pound; very sorry, Ma'am, very sorry in- 
 deed, but 'twouldn't pay And so, Mr.What- 
 
 dyecalFum, you see my boy Dick Jack, I 
 
 say, Jack, don't forget to send them two Ches- 
 hires up to Mrs. Jenkins, and dy'e hear, mind 
 and take the bill along with 'em ; she's one as 
 
 requires looking arter Excuse my bluntness 
 
 Mr. WhatdyecalFum, I'm a plain John Bull 
 
 Heyday, Mrs. Jackson, what you here too? 
 
 Well, and how goes the world with you ? and 
 how's your good man, and how's the little 'uns? 
 I'm sorry to say, my Polly's ill a-bed of the 
 
 measles Beg your pardon, Mr. , for 
 
 keeping you waiting; but business must be 
 minded, you know?" 
 
 I intreated him not to apologize, as my time 
 was his, and then proceeded to seat myself 
 leisurely in a remote corner of the shop, while 
 the sly fox kept watching every movement of 
 my hands, with the same keenness and pertina- 
 city with which a tom-cat watches a mouse. 
 
 In a few minutes, having got rid of all his
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 89 
 
 customers, he whipped off his apron, and led the 
 way into a back room, whither I followed. There 
 was no need of ceremony ; we plunged, therefore, 
 without a moment's delay into the thick of the 
 business. I proposed my terms, he proposed 
 his ; but there being, even on this preliminary 
 point, a material pecuniary difference between 
 us ; Mr. Spinks, moreover, with the wary 
 shrewdness of the tradesman, persisting in put- 
 ting a variety of frivolous and vexatious ques- 
 tions to me, touching the vouchers I was pre- 
 pared to furnish him with, of talent, respecta- 
 bility and so forth, I at once broke off the 
 negociation, and stalked from his presence with 
 the same sullen dignity with which Ajax turned 
 from Ulysses in the shades. 
 
 I retraced my steps over Waterloo-bridge, 
 towards my lodgings, not exactly au desespoir, 
 but still in a state of mind far from enviable. 
 Absorbed in the reflection that I was the help- 
 less victim of ill-luck, I seated myself moodily 
 on one of the buttresses of the bridge, casting 
 ever and anon a glance on the water, much to 
 the horror of an old lady who was taking the
 
 90 SORROWS OF 
 
 air on the opposite side, and no doubt mistook 
 me for an interesting martyr to unrequited love, 
 when suddenly I heard my name pronounced, and 
 looking up, saw Patrick Donovan, a brother 
 colleague on the Planet establishment, a smart, 
 active fellow, who had always shown a disposi- 
 tion to cultivate my acquaintance. 
 
 On the present occasion he was all sympathy, 
 and, as we strolled up and down the bridge to- 
 gether, he said, " You are unlucky, O'Blarney, 
 but nil desperandum as we used to say at 
 Trinity college. What think you of editing a 
 Sunday newspaper ?" 
 
 " I am willing to try my hand at it, provided 
 the principles of the journal are such as I can 
 conscientiously advocate.' 1 
 
 " Oh, if you come to talk of conscience I 
 have done with you. Your case is hopeless." 
 
 "Donovan," said I, with solemnity, "would 
 you deprive me of the only luxury I have 
 left ?" 
 
 " Yes, for the very reason that it is a luxury. 
 When a gentleman is in difficulties, what are 
 the first things he retrenches ? Why, his luxu-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. yl 
 
 ries to be sure. Conscience, forsooth ! A pretty 
 wall you are building to knock your head 
 against. How can you ever expect to get on 
 with such a stumbling-block in your way ? 
 Pray, get rid of it as soon as possible, or assign 
 it over to your tailor or attorney ; they stand 
 more in need of it than you do." 
 
 " I am convinced ; let me hear your pro- 
 posals." 
 
 " You must know then, that in conjunc- 
 tion with a pushing young bookseller, I have 
 just purchased the copyright of the Squib 
 journal ; but, as neither of us have sufficient 
 leisure to do it justice, we are on the look-out 
 for some one who will devote his chief time 
 and attention to it. Under these circum- 
 stances, I offer you the editorship ; but, as 
 there is not a moment to be lost, you must 
 decide at once." 
 
 " I agree to your proposals." 
 
 " And you will throw overboard all roman- 
 tic notions of you understand me ?" 
 
 " Nature will at times prevail ; but I will 
 do my best to weed out the delicate infirmity.""
 
 92 SORROWS OF 
 
 " Spoken like a very Canning ! You shall 
 commence operations next week." 
 
 The bargain was accordingly struck, and 
 within a fortnight from the period of my dis- 
 missal from the Planet establishment, I was 
 installed editor of a certain flashy, sporting 
 Sunday journal, of no great literary or poli- 
 tical character, I must confess, but which, 
 nevertheless, happened to be just then remark- 
 able for its extensive circulation. 
 
 This situation necessarily brought me into 
 contact with many of the more puffing and 
 mushroom class of booksellers, by whose means 
 I was introduced to divers small literary charac- 
 ters, artists, actors, SEC. ; until, at length, not- 
 withstanding my diffidence, I began to feel 
 that I was something more than a mere cypher 
 in the republic of letters.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 93 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE LITERARY CONVERSAZIONE. 
 
 ONE day, when I was seated in the editor's 
 room at the office, manufacturing a sly, myste- 
 rious paragraph respecting the elopement of 
 
 Lady A with a Sir Bore Brocas, a note 
 
 was put into my hands from the bibliopole, who 
 was Donovan's co-partner in the journal, con- 
 taining an invitation to a literary conversazione, 
 a weekly series of which he had projected during 
 the publishing season. 
 
 Such a temptation was irresistible ; and at the 
 appointed hour, I twinkled among other lite- 
 rary luminaries at his domicile. 
 
 The room was crowded ; and among the in- 
 vited was Donovan, who, taking compassion 
 on my ignorance of persons, volunteered to act 
 as my cicerone. Pointing to an ancient gentleman
 
 94' SORROWS OF 
 
 in spectacles, " In early life," said he, " that ' 
 man had the ill-luck to have his favourite tra- 
 gedy damned before the third act, since which 
 time, his sole consolation has consisted in lament- 
 ing the decay of the dramatic art, and witness- 
 ing the first representation of every new trage- 
 dy, in the hope that it may experience the fate 
 of his own." 
 
 " Is that a dramatist, too, by his side?" I 
 enquired. 
 
 " Oh, no ; that is a well-known Platonic 
 philosopher, who reads Greek as fluently as 
 English; has translated all the sophists, from 
 Plato to Proclus; insists that the dark ages 
 commenced from the death of lamblichus ; and 
 that the mythology of Greece and Rome is the 
 only true religion. He married his cook, be- 
 cause her face reminded him of Pomona, as de- 
 picted on an old medal. But, mark that tall, 
 spare man, who has just shaken hands with our 
 host." 
 
 " I see him. Who is he ? What's his name ?" 
 
 "Dr. Ferdinand Fingerfee, the celebrated 
 quack. His system is a peculiar one. He holds
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 95 
 
 that ill-health is nothing more than the intro- 
 duction of mephitic vapours through the pores 
 of the skin, into the diaphragm, and proposes, by 
 a process of tanning, to render the hide air-proof. 
 The bills of mortality have increased surpris- 
 ingly since his system came into fashion." 
 
 " I presume that is one of his patients he is 
 conversing with." 
 
 " What ! and in such plump condition ? No, 
 that is a small poet, a cross between the classic 
 and Della-Crusca schools. Suppose we join him."" 
 Accordingly we took our places beside the 
 bard, who was seated alone on a sofa; when 
 to Donovan's enquiries, whether he had perused 
 the last new poem, Mr. Singsong replied in 
 the affirmative, adding that it was of a very su- 
 perior character. 
 
 " Yet the public thinks otherwise," rejoined 
 Donovan. 
 
 " The public !" said Singsong, with a look of 
 supreme disdain ; " and who cares what the 
 public thinks ? Rely on it, Sir, no man of real 
 genius ever yet published a successful poem. 
 Where were ever more signal failures than
 
 96 SORROWS OF 
 
 Paradise Lost, the Excursion, Endymion, and 
 Prometheus Unbound ? Poetic popularity is 
 a sort of thing I neither covet nor understand. 11 
 
 u You have reason to congratulate yourself 
 in this respect," replied Donovan, archly, " for 
 yours is no mob popularity. Indeed, I did 
 hear that your last volume failed so egregiously, 
 as not even to defray the expenses of publi- 
 cation." 
 
 " Failed ! I know not what you call failure. 
 Never was there a work more highly spoken of 
 by the critics, or more warmly received by 
 those who know how to appreciate taste and 
 feeling. Failed indeed ! Why, certainly it is 
 neither in fashion at Wapping, nor an oracle in 
 St. Giles's ; but the public generally have 
 stamped it with their approbation. Failed, for- 
 sooth ! If you mean this by way of joke, Mr. 
 Donovan, trust me it is an uncommonly dull 
 one." 
 
 " Have you heard the news, gentlemen, the 
 news the news ?" said a squat, pompous little 
 man, whom Donovan introduced to me as the 
 editor of a minor monthly periodical.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 97 
 
 " News what news ?" asked all of us in a 
 breath. 
 
 " What, have you not heard of the change 
 that we " 
 
 " Oh yes," said Donovan, " I have often 
 heard (who has not ?) of We. We, though 
 dating from a back-garret, has helped to write 
 the country into a war before now. We told 
 Byron he was no poet, and Cowper that he was 
 a mere fanatic. But what of this Mr. We ?" 
 
 " Why, I thought, of course, you knew that 
 
 We have commenced a new Series of our Maga- 
 zine." 
 
 " Astonishing," replied Donovan, with mock 
 gravity ; " no wonder all Europe is ringing with 
 the intelligence." 
 
 " And what is better still, " continued the 
 editor, wholly engrossed with his subject, " we 
 have procured the assistance of the very ablest 
 contributor of the day. A wonderful fellow ! 
 Quite a universal genius ! Ah ! yonder's the 
 very man. I must go and speak with him," 
 and away he went to join his idol. 
 
 When he was gone, " That man," said Dono- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 SORROWS OF 
 
 van, pointing after him, " has no conception of 
 intellect, except as connected with a Magazine. 
 He dates from month to month, and is one of 
 that numerous class of witlings, who contrive to 
 mount up in the literary world by no merit of 
 their own, but solely by clinging to the skirts 
 of some clever fellow who is on the ascent. As 
 every substance has its shadow, so every literary 
 lion has his literary jackall, who imitates his 
 style, spreads his fame, echoes his good say- 
 ings, and, in return, is honoured with his pa- 
 tronage. 1 ' 
 
 "What do you think of Wilson as a lion?" 
 I enquired. 
 
 "As a poetic landscape-painter /'replied Sing- 
 song, " Wilson is unrivalled. What a fairy- 
 land has he made of Windermere and its little 
 bay ! I wonder the elfs and sylphs of the lake 
 country have never yet got up a public meeting 
 by moonlight, under the shadow of Helvellyn 
 (the spirit of Lodore in the chair), and pre- 
 sented him with the freedom of the lakes in 
 a handsome snuff-box, made of Queen Mab's 
 agate stone ! But not only is Wilson a poet,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 99 
 
 he is remarkable, also, for a rich, fantastic vein 
 of humour, which " 
 
 " Your mention of humour," said Donovan, 
 " brings to my recollection two books which I 
 lately abstracted from a friend's library, who is 
 rather particular in these matters " 
 
 " God bless me," rejoined Singsong, " I have 
 lately missed several volumes myself. Have 
 you 
 
 " Sir, your inference is most disrespectful ; 
 the books I allude to are Elia and Melincourt. 
 What Wilson is to the Lakes, Lamb is to Lon- 
 don. Then who feels a snug, social rubber like 
 him ? I should detest whist, if it were not for 
 dear, delightful Mrs. Battle, whose gentle shade 
 seems mildly to expostulate with me on my he- 
 terodoxy . As for Melincourt, its Island of Cim- 
 merian Gloom is an allegory worthy of Rabelais." 
 ** You speak of Rabelais. I am just fresh 
 from an acquaintance with that elastic rogue 
 Panurge, and cannot, for the life of me, help 
 thinking that he is the original of Falstaff." 
 
 " That's an odd crotchet ; but, go on. I 
 love a bouncing absurdity."
 
 100 SORROWS OF 
 
 " The two characters," continued Singsong, 
 " have so much in common such peculiar inge- 
 nuity in lying such endless jokes on, andfantas- 
 tic extenuations of, their physical defects such 
 rich quaint, ever- welling humour, glossing over, 
 and even lending a grace to, their preposterous 
 cowardice such amusing profligacy such out- 
 rageous faculties of buffoonery such readiness 
 at contrivance such incredible powers of face 
 and bluster to say nothing of a hundred other 
 traits, equally far-fetched, yet congenial, that 
 the resemblance could scarcely have been the 
 mere result of a lucky chance. Falstaff is 
 Panurge plumped out. Panurge is Falstaff 
 fallen away. Panurge, with Pantagruel plays 
 the same game as Falstaff with Prince Hal. 
 Panurge in the storm at sea, is the counterpart 
 of Falstaff at Shrewsbury. Both hold discre- 
 tion to be the better part of valour ; both have 
 no other idea of life than as a tipsy jest ; both 
 are self-catechists on honour ; both have their 
 Doll Tear-sheet ; both the same accommodating 
 theory of debt. Again 
 
 " But how came Shakspeare acquainted with 
 Rabelais ?" asked Donovan.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 101 
 
 " How ? Why, when Shakspeare wrote, 
 Rabelais was the one great name on the Conti- 
 nent; and as Lord Bacon had already made 
 him the theme of panegyric ; and two of his 
 most prominent characters were, our Lord Chan- 
 cellor Moore, and Luther, the founder of our 
 Protestant revolution ; his fame could scarcely 
 have been a stranger to Englishmen ; certainly, 
 not to such an active, inquisitive spirit as Shaks- 
 peare, who passed much of his time in the better 
 educated circles of the court. Now, our swan 
 of Avon, we all know, was never very scrupu- 
 lous about the means by which he gained plots 
 and characters for his plays as he has proved 
 by his profuse pilferings from the old Italian 
 novels and I think it far from improbable that 
 he had met with some garbled translation of 
 Rabelais, and finding the dramatic capabilities 
 of Panurge, had dressed up the rogue afresh, 
 made him, by way of contrast, a miracle of 
 obesity, and baptized him Falstaff." 
 
 " Yet as rogues, both Falstaff and Panurge 
 must hide their heads before the Spanish swin- 
 dlers, whose genius was so abundant, that it ran
 
 102 SORROWS OF 
 
 over at their fingers' ends. What think you of 
 that prodigy of petty larceny, Don Raphael, 
 who, when complimented on his uncommon facul- 
 ties of appropriation, replied, ' Upon my word, 
 signer, I would almost as lief be an honest 
 man as a rogue P Match me the sublime in- 
 difference of this, if you can V 
 
 " Donovan," said I, sick to death of this con- 
 versation, " we wax prosy ; Mr. Singsong, I 
 must quit you, or I shall drop fast asleep ;" 
 and so saying, I passed on to a group, who 
 were standing at a table covered with prints, 
 magazines, &c. 
 
 " This is finely executed," said mine host, 
 pointing my attention to an engraving from a 
 design by Hay don. 
 
 " It is far better than the original," replied 
 a Royal Academician. " Haydon is at best 
 but a vigorous dauber." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the bibliopole. " Yet he 
 ranks high as an artist." 
 
 " Only among ignoramuses ; the Academy 
 thinks nothing of him. v 
 
 "Is he not superior to Northcote ?"" I in- 
 quired.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 103 
 
 " To Northcote !" rejoined the painter, with 
 a sneer ; and then, with a look that he thought 
 would at once annihilate me, " Sir, that emi- 
 nent artist has been an B. A. upwards of thirty 
 years." 
 
 But I survived the shock, and added, 
 " You will at least allow that Martin is a fine 
 painter." 
 
 " Humph ! he is no Academician." 
 
 A sharp answer was just about to escape me, 
 when Donovan recalled me to his side : 
 
 " Singsong and Matter-of-fact, the Utili- 
 tarian," said he, "are, as usual, declaring war 
 to the knife against each other. Let us join 
 them : I love a row." 
 
 " And so, Mr. Matter-of-fact," said the bard, 
 as we resumed our seats on the sofa, " you 
 have really no faith in the poetical tempera- 
 ment ?" 
 
 " Not an atom. What you call inspiration, 
 is, in nine cases out of ten, mere indigestion. 
 You are a sad, selfish set, you poets, and in 
 the perverted ingenuity with which you per- 
 suade mankind to be miserable, you stand out
 
 104 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 in humiliating contrast to us Utilitarians, whose 
 first principle it is to do our best to leave the 
 world wiser and happier than we found it." 
 
 " Wiser, certainly, if the essence of all wis- 
 dom consists in a knowledge that two and two 
 make four : happier, also, if the mechanical and 
 the common-place are the sole requisites for fe- 
 licity. But, till you can persuade the world of 
 this, you and yours must be content to rank 
 among those learned philosophers whom Pan- 
 urge speaks of, as sowing fields with gun- 
 powder, in the hope that the seed might sprout 
 up into cannon-balls. Humanity is no spinning- 
 jenny, Mr. Matter-of fact. There is such a 
 thing as passion." 
 
 " I know there is : I see it by your face." 
 
 " And yet you talk, write, and act, as if hu- 
 man nature were a mere machine !" 
 
 " Not so ; but we would make every effort 
 of mind tend to expound some principle, illus- 
 trate some truth, answer some great purpose of 
 utility." 
 
 " And so it does, when rightly estimated ; 
 but yours is a purblind, tradesmanlike notion
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 105 
 
 of the useful. You would take measure of hu- 
 manity like a tailor, as if it consisted but of one 
 individual, and that one was a political econo- 
 mist. You would shatter to atoms the golden 
 images of poetry, deface its armorial bearings, 
 and set up, instead, the brazen calf of Utili- 
 tarianism. There is a want of scope, elevation, 
 and tolerance in your philosophy. Are you 
 then, and such as you, to come forward at this 
 time of day, and gravely tell us, that humanity 
 hitherto has been all a mistake that its 
 thoughts and interests have all taken a wrong 
 direction, and that yon are the Deucalions des- 
 tined to regenerate it ? You talk of the fictions 
 of the poets " 
 
 " Meaning thereby to deduce their genealogy 
 from the devil. He was the father of lies, and, 
 of course, the first poet. Rant as you please, 
 Mr. Singsong ; facts are the only things worth 
 a wise man's consideration." 
 
 "Agreed; and you will find more in one 
 page of Shakspeare than in all the volumes 
 Maculloch ever penned." 
 
 " Maculloch ! why he is full of facts." 
 
 F 3
 
 106 SORROWS OF 
 
 " Nevertheless, match me, in all Shakspeare, 
 a fiction equal in wild extravagance to your 
 idol's theory of Absenteeism." 
 
 "What do you think of our Greatest Happi- 
 ness Principle ?" 
 
 "Think? why that it is invaluable; and 
 not the less so for being as old as the hills. It 
 is the groundwork of the Socratic philosophy 
 the staple of the Sermon on the Mount." 
 
 " This is a mere frantic assumption,"" said 
 Matter-of-fact, in a passion ; " and I now see, 
 more clearly than ever, the necessity of adopting 
 the suggestion of a friend of mine, namely, to 
 establish a Society for the Suppression of Poetry. 
 Now don't alarm yourself, Mr. Singsong ; 
 my project will not interfere with your interests. 
 I propose only to suppress poetry, not prose 
 run mad.' 1 
 
 " Ah ! my dear Sir, I am not now to learn 
 for the first time that if you had your will, you 
 would plant Parnassus with hemp and tobacco ; 
 turn the temple of the Muses into a cotton- 
 mill ; and carry a rail-road right through the 
 heart of fairy-land." 
 
 " God help me ! the man's a lunatic !" ex-
 
 A BASHFUL I1USHMAN. 107 
 
 claimed Matter-of-fact, casting a look of be- 
 wilderment at the poet. 
 
 " Lunatic !" said the bibliopole, who, at- 
 tracted by the noise of the dispute, now joined 
 us. " I suppose. Sir, you are alluding to poor 
 Cribb, the dramatist. His is a hard case, poor 
 fellow ; but I'm happy to say a subscription 
 is being got up for him, to which, I doubt not, 
 each of you will gladly " 
 
 The mention of the word, " subscription/ 1 
 had an electrical effect on the company, and in- 
 duced universal locomotion. One person just 
 remembered that he had a call to make on his 
 way home ; another, that he had promised to 
 join a party at Drury Lane ; and a third, that he 
 had got a proof-sheet to revise before the morn- 
 ing. Finding this to be the case, I also took 
 the opportunity of slipping away, and amused 
 myself for some hours afterwards at my lodg- 
 ings, with noting down memoranda of the 
 night's proceedings in my journal, which, how- 
 ever, under any circumstances, would have been 
 vividly impressed upon my mind, from the 
 singular fact of my losing neither my hat nor 
 umbrella ! They were not even exchanged !
 
 108 SORROWS OF 
 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A FASHIONABLE PATRON OF THE FINE ARTS. 
 
 IT is fortunate for young politicians that 
 there happens to be such a place as Ireland. 
 To me, at least, the sister-isle has always proved 
 a fortunate theme for speculation, and Catholic 
 Emancipation in particular a perfect god-send ; 
 for, during the whole period of my connexion 
 with Donovan, while I was warmly advocating 
 this question in his Journal, I was as warmly 
 opposing it in another. I am aware it will be 
 said by those who are incapable of the more en- 
 larged sentiments of humanity, that, by thus 
 writing on both sides of the question, I was in- 
 fluenced by a base love of lucre ; but I scorn 
 the ungenerous insinuation. My sole motive for 
 such conduct, originated in a conviction that the 
 only way for a man to accomplish himself as a
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 109 
 
 politician is by discussing the white as well 
 as the black of every question. Great truths 
 are best struck out by collision. 
 
 As, for want of some fresher subject, I was 
 busy at the office one Saturday morning, cud- 
 gelling my brains for a smart, terse " leader" on 
 Ireland, in which the Liberator, as usual, should 
 figure by way of episode, my thoughts were 
 suddenly called off by the entrance of the office- 
 clerk with a card for a private view of the 
 British Gallery. There being not a moment to 
 be lost, and the Fine Arts constituting one of 
 the most material, indeed favourite, branches of 
 my avocation, I gladly dismissed the great Li- 
 berator in a sentence, and posted off full speed 
 to Pall Mall. 
 
 I know of no rarer intellectual treat than a 
 fine collection of paintings. If only by way of 
 contrast to one's usual occupations, it is worth a 
 visit. At one moment, you are trudging along 
 the busy, crowded, every-day world of the 
 Strand ; the next, you are standing in the 
 exalted presence of genius, amidst comparative 
 stillness and desertion, gazing on some blue Si-
 
 110 SORROWS OF 
 
 cilian sky with Claude ; drinking in the spirit 
 of some fresh sea-breeze with Vandervelde ; 
 feasting on the luxury of some lovely woman's 
 black eye with Reynolds ; looking, till your very 
 flesh creeps again, far down into the horrid 
 depths of some sunless glen, while a grim, 
 swarthy brigand, lurks, half-seen among the 
 woods, with Salvator Rosa ; feeling what love 
 is with Titian, and chivalry with Vandyke ; 
 now smitten with the coquetish Spanish 
 gypsey-girls of Murillo ; and now ready to pour 
 forth your whole soul in adoration of the Ma- 
 donnas of Corregio or Carlo Dolce ! Five mi- 
 nutes makes all the difference in a case like 
 this. It suffices to transport you from the world 
 of business and common-place, into the seventh 
 heaven of the imagination ! 
 
 On my arrival at the British Gallery, I found 
 a small sprinking of critics and artists, together 
 with a few really munificent, and a few would- 
 be, patrons of the Fine Arts. The whole to 
 gether scarcely exceeded twenty ; and, among 
 them, I was particularly struck with a thin, 
 tall, smirking, elderly personage, who kept
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. Ill 
 
 hopping from painting to painting, as Beau 
 Didapper might have been supposed to do. A 
 more swift-footed amateur I never beheld. The 
 finest skies of Claude failed to rivet his atten- 
 tion for more than a few seconds. Five minutes 
 even of a Rubens, would have bored him to 
 death. 
 
 "Hey ! Barnet, " said this airy whirligig, as 
 the keeper accompanied him most deferentially 
 in all his movements, "what's this? what's 
 this ? very pretty fine colouring looks like 
 a Claude." 
 
 " That. General, is a Rembrandt.'" 
 
 " Well, well no matter all the same fine 
 Titian this !" 
 
 " I beg pardon, General, it's a" 
 
 " Velasquez, so I see." 
 
 " I rather think, General, it's a " 
 
 "You're right so it is so it is. Clever 
 artist, that Paul Potter. Hey. Barnet ?" 
 
 " Very, General. 1 ' 
 
 "Barnet Barnet what's this, No. 168 
 warm sky fine perspective !"" 
 
 The keeper hastened to point out the number
 
 112 SORROWS OF 
 
 in his catalogue, but before he could turn over 
 two or three leaves, the velocipede was off again 
 to a distant part of the room, Mr. Barnet 
 moving after him as swiftly as his years would 
 permit. 
 
 Again the harlequin attacked him. " Hey, 
 Barnet, whom have we got here ? No. 325. 
 Very pretty very pretty very pretty indeed. 
 Charming face ! sweet figure ! What a bust T' 
 
 " That is the celebrated " 
 
 " So I thought, and 327 is her husband, I 
 suppose. Sticks close to her side, hey, Barnet ?" 
 and the General laughed blandly at this bright 
 surmise. 
 
 In this mercurial style he pirouetted through 
 the gallery, till having finished his gallopade, 
 and accomplished his survey of about four 
 hundred paintings in something less than half- 
 an-hour, he whirled out of the room, and was 
 off like a shot in his cab ! 
 
 Ah, thought I, as I stared after him in an 
 ecstasy of astonishment and admiration, what a 
 blessing it is to have a quick apprehension of 
 the sublime and beautiful in art !
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 113 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTIONS ON A HORSE- 
 WHIPPINGTHE CASE OF LIBEL. 
 
 " THE course of true love never did run 
 smooth,"" and the same remark applies with 
 equal force to the course of a public journalist. 
 One day when I was seated at my desk, reading 
 a report of a grand Tory dinner given to Mr. 
 Canning at Liverpool, the office boy knocked 
 at my door, with information that two gentle- 
 men were below who were desirous of speaking 
 with the editor on business of importance, which 
 admitted of no delay. 
 
 Before I had time to consider what answer 
 should be given to this pressing application, the 
 strangers entered sans ceremonie, and walking 
 straight up to my desk, the taller of the two (a
 
 114 SORROWS OF 
 
 perfect elephant of a man) drew the preceding 
 Sunday's publication from his pocket, and point- 
 ing with a smile to a particular paragraph, asked 
 if I were the author of that brilliant squib. 
 
 I am rarely thrown off my guard, but on this 
 occasion my vanity got the better of my dis- 
 cretion, and, contrary to all etiquette, I at once 
 avowed the authorship, expressing at the same 
 time my gratification that it had afforded them 
 amusement. 
 
 " So much amusement," said the tallest of the 
 two, " that my friend here and myself have 
 come in person to offer our express acknow- 
 ledgments/" 
 
 " Yes, Sir," added his companion, " the 
 paragraph in question is one that cannot be too 
 promptly acknowledged. It is a base, unwar- 
 rantable calumny on a lady with whom we have 
 the honour to be acquainted.' 1 
 
 " Calumny !" said I, " believe me, gentle- 
 men, you are wholly in error. The paragraph 
 contains nothing of the sort ; it is a mere harm- 
 less jeux d? esprit, penned hastily in a moment 
 of overpowering sprightliness."
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 115 
 
 " And do you presume to call this sprightli- 
 ness?" interrupted the giant, slowly reading over 
 the article, and laying a malignant emphasis on 
 each word, " I tell you, Sir, it is an infamous 
 falsehood, such as no gentleman would have 
 dared to circulate. However, I did not come here 
 to talk, but to act;" and so saying, he drew forth 
 a horsewhip from beneath his cloak, and half 
 strangling me with one hand, so as to render 
 me utterly incapable of defence, laid it across 
 my shoulders with the other. 
 
 There is a natural dislike in man to have his 
 nose pulled, and the same disinclination ex- 
 tends, I have generally observed, to a horse- 
 whipping. It will not appear surprising, there- 
 fore, that partaking of the common prejudice of 
 humanity, I indignantly resisted this encroach- 
 ment on the liberty of the subject. " Sir," 
 said I, < k this ruffian personality is not to be 
 endured, and if there be law or " 
 
 " Personality, my good Sir ?" said the fellow 
 who had planted himself before the door, " we 
 have no wish to be personal ; our quarrel is 
 with the public editor, not the private indi-
 
 116 SORROWS OF 
 
 vidual. I trust we have too nice a sense of 
 propriety not to discriminate between the two 
 characters." 
 
 This was adding insult to injury, and being 
 followed up by a brisk application of the other 
 ruffian's boot to my rear-ward Adam as he let 
 go his hold, after having nearly throttled me, 
 wound me up to such a pitch of desperation, 
 that, making a sudden rush to the door, I 
 knocked down the sophistical scoundrel who 
 guarded it, and was off like lightning to Dono- 
 van's lodgings. 
 
 There is nothing like passion to give wings 
 to a man's speed. It would make a Mercury of 
 a Dutchman. Hardly had I lost sight of the 
 office, when, behold ! I was at Donovan's door. 
 My appearance struck him with astonishment. 
 My lips quivered my legs trembled my 
 clothes exhibited samples of every crossing from 
 Fleet-street to the Strand. 
 
 " So, 11 said I, "a pretty condition you have 
 reduced me to, Mr. Donovan ! But you shall 
 give me satisfaction, Sir, instant satisfaction 
 no ruffian shall horsewhip me with impunity ."
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 117 
 
 " Horsewhip ! Nonsense, you must be joking 
 surely." 
 
 " Sir, it is no joke to me, whatever it maybe 
 to you. I tell you I have been insulted 
 bullied and horsewhipped into the bargain, 
 and all in consequence of that confounded para- 
 graph about Lady A and her reported 
 
 liaison with " 
 
 " Sir Bore Brocas. I remember it perfectly ; 
 and so for this harmless squib you have actually, 
 you say, been horsewhipped ? Upon my word, 
 O'Blarney, this is a monstrous lucky affair. It 
 will give quite a lift to the Paper. And then 
 the damages P 
 
 " Indeed !" said I with a most bitter smile, 
 " but you forget my shoulders, Mr. Donovan." 
 
 ' Don't mention it, 'tis a mere trifle, not 
 worth thinking about.' 1 
 
 " Trifle, Sir ?" 
 
 " To be sure ; what is a horsewhipping com- 
 pared with the eclat it will give our Paper ? 'Tis 
 a mere nothing when one's used to it. But," 
 continued Donovan, seeing that, so far from 
 being convinced, I began to manifest increased
 
 118 SORROWS OF 
 
 passion, " let us discuss the matter coolly and 
 rationally, not like romantic boys, but like men 
 of the world ;" and throwing himself back in his 
 arm-chair, with an easy impudence that made 
 me smile notwithstanding my rage, commenced 
 as follows: " There are two lights in which a 
 horsewhipping may be regarded ; first as an 
 affair of honour, secondly as an affair of busi- 
 ness. Your raw stripling who is all for the 
 heroics, views it only in the first light, and re- 
 trieves his ' honour' by being shot through the 
 head ; but your more shrewd worldling, having 
 wit enough to view it in the other, obtains satis- 
 faction by making his aggressor pay down a 
 handsome per centage for his experiment. Now 
 I contend that all assaults, whether dorsal, 
 humeral, or nasal, should be regarded in this 
 light, and revenged in this spirit only. For 
 why should not a man make his shoulders as 
 available a property as his brains ? Why let 
 the slightest portion of corporeal capital lay 
 idle ? It is an affront to an all-wise Providence 
 to do so, especially in your case, whose Atlan- 
 tean shoulders were manifestly built for the
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 119 
 
 purposes of assault. Be resigned then, O'Blar- 
 ney, ever bearing in mind this consolatory 
 axiom, that, after all, a horsewhipping is no- 
 thing more than a dispute taking a practical, 
 instead of a theoretical turn. Besides, consider, 
 assaults usually carry damages, and that made 
 on you being of a highly inflammatory charac- 
 ter, ten to one it conjures a cool five hundred 
 out of Sir Bore's pocket into yours. Now with 
 this sum you can make the grand tour ! Really 
 my friend, all things considered, I look on this 
 affair as quite a god-send, and am so far from 
 condoling with you, that I beg leave to offer you 
 my sincerest congratulations. Of course, you'll 
 prosecute? 1 ' 
 
 " That's as may happen ; at present, I can 
 think of nothing but the intolerable pain in my 
 shoulder-blades." 
 
 " Nonsense. You must you shall prose- 
 cute. How is the affair to get wind else ? Con- 
 sider, your * honour,' as you call it, is at stake.' 
 " My honour, Mr. Donovan ! Why, Sir, 
 my very seat of honour is at stake! Would 
 you believe it, the ruffian "
 
 120 SORROWS OF 
 
 " You need not go on, I can guess what is 
 to come ; there are no half measures in affairs 
 of this sort ; so the * ruffian' having done his 
 business in a workmanlike style, it is now 
 your turn to do yours. Let me see. In the 
 first place, you must enter an action of as- 
 sault and battery against Sir Bore Brocas ; se- 
 condly " 
 
 At this stage of the conversation, a lad en- 
 tered the room with a most suspicious, lawyer- 
 like note, which he said had been left for the 
 proprietor and editor of the SQUIB Journal, and 
 which, as the bearer had declared it to contain 
 matters of importance, the clerk had ordered 
 him to forward to Donovan's lodgings. 
 
 Donovan opened the note, but before he had 
 perused three lines, his countenance visibly 
 lengthened. 
 
 I watched the change, and, delighted with an 
 opportunity of repaying banter with banter 
 for I had been more annoyed by his irony than 
 I chose to confess said, " Heyday, what's the 
 matter now ? Is there a second horsewhipping 
 in the wind ?"
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 121 
 
 44 Don't talk so like a fool/' replied Donovan 
 sulkily ; " this is no time for joking." 
 
 " So I thought when you were favouring me 
 just now with your facetious essay." 
 
 " Zounds, O'Blarney, youVe enough to drive 
 one mad. Here is a notice of action for a libel 
 contained inourpaper of Sunday fortnight. How- 
 ever, it's your business, not mine. It is monstrous 
 that the innocent should suffer for the guilty." 
 " Capital. So you are to monopolize all the 
 profits of the paper, and I the horsewhippings 
 and libels !"" 
 
 " Why, are you not the editor ?" 
 " And you the proprietor ? v 
 " Granted, but when I engaged you it was 
 far from my intention to stand godfather to 
 your libels. No, no, Sir, you must come for- 
 ward and acknowledge your own paternity. I 
 will have no order of affiliation made on me. 
 How, in the name of common sense, could you 
 be fool enough to meddle with the private cha- 
 racter of a cabinet minister !" ? ' 
 
 " And how could you be fool enough to 
 allow the paragraph to be inserted ?" 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 SORROWS OF 
 
 " Well, well, this recrimination is childish ; 
 what's done can't be undone ; therefore our 
 mutual safety is what we must now look to. I 
 despise that sort of chivalrous spirit which 
 would induce one man to go to gaol for another ; 
 at the same time, mark me, I would not wish to 
 do any thing unjust or " 
 
 ' Ahem ! I clearly understand you, Sir." 
 
 After some further conversation of this na- 
 ture, which terminated, as might have been 
 anticipated, in a quarrel for I could not but 
 see that Donovan meditated throwing all the 
 onus of the libel on my already sufficiently 
 afflicted shoulders I left him with the fixed 
 but secret determination of resigning my edi- 
 torial functions, and never again venturing my 
 person near the office. 
 
 This resolution was no sooner formed than 
 executed. I instantly removed from my old 
 lodgings ; kept my new place of abode a more 
 than Eleusinian mystery ; and never once, for 
 a whole fortnight, ventured out, except, like a 
 bat or a burglar, by night. 
 
 Meantime the myrmidons of the law were
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 123 
 
 not inactive, and within a very brief period 
 from my resignation of the editorship, the 
 Morning Papers made me acquainted with the 
 fact that Patrick Donovan, having been found 
 guilty of a libel on a distinguished member of 
 his Majesty's Government, was to be brought 
 up on the ensuing term for judgment. 
 
 About the same time, through the influence 
 of a respectable news-agent, who alone was in 
 ray confidence, the editorship of a country 
 journal, entitled the " Humbug Flying Re- 
 porter," was offered me, for which town I forth- 
 with took my departure, with the avowed in- 
 tention of henceforth cutting all connexion with 
 a metropolis where my industry and abilities 
 had met with so unworthy a recompence. 
 
 It was on a chilly, foggy April evening that 
 I took my seat inside the Humbug Mercury. 
 My prospects were gloomy, my spirits still more 
 so. Gradually, however, this despondency wore 
 away, and gave place to livelier sensations. A 
 nights journey in a stage-coach is an excellent 
 recipe for the blues. A thousand little inci- 
 dents are perpetually at work to call off the 
 G 2
 
 12-1 SORROWS OF A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 attention from Self. There is the casual and 
 often divertingly characteristic chit-chat the 
 whimsical settling-down of the more practised 
 insiders into a snug nook for a nap the cheer- 
 ing sound of the guard's horn as the horses 
 clatter along the stones of some provincial town 
 the snatch of supper at the appointed inn, 
 with the bright fire-side and the blazing can- 
 dles ; then again the abrupt departure, with 
 the " good night" of my landlord, and the " all 
 right" of the regenerated coachman; these and 
 divers other minutiae, though trifling enough 
 you will say, have at least a tendency to divert 
 the mind, and so far reassured me, that by the 
 time I reached Humbug, I had wholly regained 
 my serenity, notwithstanding I had for fourteen 
 ours been wedged fast between two elderly 
 ladies, one of whom took Scotch snuff, and the 
 other talked incessantly of her son Tom. 
 
 ; 
 
 END OF THE FIRST BOOK.
 
 BOOK THE SECOND. 
 
 THE POLITICIAN.
 
 SORROWS OF A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 127 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A PROVINCIAL GREAT MAN. 
 
 WITHIN a walking distance of the borough 
 of Humbug dwelt Miles Snodgrass, Esquire, 
 who was rich, consequently respectable, and 
 possessed of considerable local influence. As 
 the artificer of his own fortune, Mr. Snodgrass 
 held himself in no slight estimation. His father 
 had for years been the town-clerk ; but dying 
 suddenly when Miles was yet a boy, left him 
 heir to little but his virtues and his wardrobe. 
 The lad, however, being tractable, bustling, 
 and gifted with what the experienced in such 
 matters call " an eye to business," was taken 
 notice of by the parochial authorities, who con- 
 trived to get him bound apprentice to an old
 
 128 SORROWS OF 
 
 friend of his father, a wealthy linen-draper of 
 Humbug, in which capacity he rendered him- 
 self so generally useful, that at the expiration 
 of his servitude his master, finding he could 
 not do without him, took the young man into 
 partnership, and in process of time, as he him- 
 self waxed old and indolent, invested him with 
 the entire superintendence of the concern. 
 
 Years rolled on, ' and each successive one 
 found Miles Snodgrass rising into gradual im- 
 portance in the neighbourhood. By the death 
 of his patron, he became sole proprietor of 
 the concern, which enabled him to enlarge 
 the sphere of his ambition, and espouse the 
 wealthy daughter of a retired butcher and 
 Alderman of the borough. 
 
 But his good luck did not stop here. Some 
 men are born with a silver spoon in their mouths, 
 and Miles Snodgrass was one of these lucky 
 few. A successful speculation in cottons, ren- 
 dered him, shortly after his marriage, so wholly 
 independent of trade, as to justify him in with-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 129 
 
 drawing his name from the concern, and be- 
 coming what is called, " a sleeping partner." 
 
 It is from this period that his standing in 
 society may be dated. At the urgent inter- 
 cession of his eldest daughter, who was now 
 fast advancing to womanhood, he exchanged his 
 snug private house in the main street for a spa- 
 cious mansion about half a mile -from the bo- 
 rough ; emblazoned the armorial bearings of 
 the Snodgrasses on the panels of his carriage ; 
 suddenly discovered that his family was of 
 ancient extraction ; and once, in a moment of 
 enthusiasm, was heard to talk of his ancestors ! 
 
 The town viewed these symptoms of unequi- 
 vocal gentility with more than ordinary inte- 
 rest. The Corporation, in particular, were de- 
 lighted with such a handsome additament to 
 their fraternity ; and rioted in anticipation of 
 the glorious feastings that would ensue, when 
 Miles Snodgrass, Esq. should be metamorphosed 
 into his Worship the Mayor. 
 
 Nor were they disappointed. After passing
 
 130 SORROWS OF 
 
 through all the initiatory phases, our worthy 
 burgess, who had for many years been expand- 
 ing into the requisite circumference, became 
 Mayor of the borough of Humbug. His inau- 
 gural dinner surpassed all expectation, and was 
 rendered unusually popular by the death of two 
 attornies from apoplexy. 
 
 I have as yet said nothing on the subject of 
 his Worship's politics. Being more than ordi- 
 narily fortunate, he was, of course, loyal in pro- 
 portion, and having invested a considerable por- 
 tion of his property in the Five per Cents. , made 
 a point of getting up Pitt dinners, together with 
 all sorts of Clubs, Meetings, and Addresses that 
 might tend to strengthen the public securities, 
 and evince his attachment to the ruling powers. 
 His hostility to the Radicals was equally exem- 
 plary ; while the stocks, the cart's-tail, and the 
 black-hole, bore testimony to his vigour as a 
 magistrate. 
 
 Such services did not pass unnoticed. A ca- 
 binet minister happening, during his Mayoralty,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 131 
 
 be on a visit in the neighbourhood, a grand pub- 
 lic dinner, at which his Worship presided, was 
 given to the great man, who, after the customary 
 loyal toasts, &c., not only proposed the health of 
 the Mayor of Humbug, but even held him forth 
 to the company as a shining public character, 
 whose patriotism was as sterling as his eloquence, 
 and with whom it was an honour to be acquainted. 
 
 This compliment particularly the touch 
 about his eloquence, on which he prided him- 
 self was very nearly the death of Mr. Snod- 
 grass. He did not get safely over it for six 
 months. He talked of it by day, he dreamed 
 of it by night; looked about him with an air; 
 affected reserve and mystery, as if vast ideas 
 were fermenting in his brain ; until at length 
 he reasoned himself into the conviction that he 
 was bondjide a great man ! 
 
 But there is a tide in the affairs of men, and 
 his Worship's having been some years at its full 
 flood, was now beginning to ebb. Notwithstand- 
 ing the publicly proclaimed friendship of the
 
 132 SORROWS OF 
 
 cabinet minister, time rolled on and found him 
 an unrewarded country magistrate. Though on 
 the occasion of a memorable Tory meeting at 
 Humbug, he had gone the extreme length of 
 declaring his perfect readiness to die in the last 
 ditch in defence of the glorious Constitution, 
 still he had been refused the only place he ever 
 solicited from Government. This was a hard 
 case, but he bethought himself of the pro- 
 verbial ingratitude of public men, and for a 
 time was reconciled to his lot. 
 
 An event, at length, occurred which deranged 
 the whole economy of his politics. Owing to 
 the popular clamour, the Minister of the day 
 found himself compelled to reduce the Five per 
 Cents., and Mr. Snodgrass, who, as I observed 
 before, had invested largely in these funds, ex- 
 perienced in consequence a considerable reduc- 
 tion of income. Heavens and earth ! what was 
 his indignation when the appalling tidings first 
 reached him. He threatened he raved he 
 talked of Tory madness and ministerial ingra-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 133 
 
 titude hinted that he had been mistaken in 
 his prejudice against the Whigs and brought 
 himself to think even of the Radicals without 
 horror ! There is no affront so deeply resented 
 or so long remembered as that offered to the 
 pocket, and Mr. Snodgrass was proverbially 
 sensitive on this point. 
 
 It was about this critical period, when he 
 had withdrawn in disgust from public life, that 
 I made my first appearance at Humbug. As 
 the editor of the only Liberal journal my con- 
 temporary was a red-hot Tory it was, of 
 course, requisite that I should cultivate con- 
 nexion as much as possible. I instituted, there- 
 fore, minute inquiries into the characters, po- 
 litics, wealth, patronage, and so forth, of every 
 leading family in the district, and soon became 
 acquainted with all the circumstances relative 
 to Mr. Snodgrass which I have just narrated. 
 
 Fortunately for my prospects of notoriety, 
 the Liberal member died a few months after my 
 arrival in Humbug, and it became a matter of
 
 134 SORROWS OF 
 
 pressing necessity to put another of similar prin- 
 ciples in nomination. 
 
 I was among the first applied to on this sub- 
 ject such influence had my bustling activity 
 already procured me and to the committee 
 who paid me the honour of an official visit, I 
 ventured, after numerous candidates had been 
 proposed and rejected, to suggest the name of 
 Miles Snodgrass. 
 
 The committee, as I expected, were thunder- 
 struck at the suggestion. 
 
 " Why, he is a Tory P said one. 
 " A mere imbecile !" exclaimed a second. 
 " His very name would damn the cause !" 
 hinted a third. 
 
 " Gentlemen," I observed, " believe me, you 
 are all in error on this point. True, Mr. Snod- 
 grass is a Tory ; but why ? Because his prin- 
 ciples have hitherto squared with his interests. 
 Of late, however, he has sustained grievous 
 pecuniary inconvenience, and is just now, as I 
 have every reason to believe, in that state of
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 135 
 
 vacillation, which it requires only an expert 
 tactician to turn to account. Habit would still 
 incline him to Toryism ; but wounded vanity 
 disappointed ambition diminished means 
 urge him forward in an opposite direction. 
 
 " You say he is unpopular. That may be, 
 but he is at least a favourite with our Corpo- 
 ration, the majority of whom are likely enough 
 to wink at his tergiversation, from the rever- 
 ential reminiscences they entertain of his past 
 dinners, and the avidity with which they look 
 forward to future ones. Gentlemen, a politi- 
 cian, no matter whether Whig or Tory, who 
 baits with a good dinner, is pretty sure to hook 
 an Alderman ! 
 
 " Besides, let us bear in mind that from 
 Mr. Snodgrass' nomination we derive these 
 two positive advantages : in the first place, 
 if he come over to our party, yet fail in his 
 election, he is, from 'that moment, muzzled for 
 life ; secondly, if he succeed, he will plead our 
 cause with all the energy of which he is capable ;
 
 136 SORROWS OF 
 
 for as neglected poets turn to raving critics, so 
 disappointed Tories invariably make the stiffest 
 Liberals. Of the exact amount of his imbecility 
 I am no judge, further than that he is an Alder- 
 man, and has been a Mayor. Trust me, how- 
 ever, it is not always the wisest man that makes 
 the best patriot." 
 
 The committee were so struck with the saga- 
 city I quote their own appropriate expressions 
 of these suggestions, that, after one or two 
 more discussions, they all came round to my 
 way of thinking ; decided that Mr. Snodgrass 
 should be invited to stand on the Whig (or as 
 we adroitly phrased it, the Independent) inte- 
 rest ; and waving the usual forms of going up 
 in a body as it was supposed that more could 
 be done with Mr. Snodgrass in a confidential tete- 
 a-tete that I should wait on him singly with 
 the intelligence, and exert all my powers of rhe- 
 toric to induce him to accede to the nomination.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOW TO TURN ONE'S COAT BECOMINGLY. 
 
 PURSUANT to the directions of the committee, 
 I paid a visit in form to the worthy Alderman. 
 I found him alone at breakfast, in what he 
 called his study, hidden behind a double sheet 
 of the TIMES; above him, over the mantel- 
 piece, hung an autograph letter, framed and 
 glazed, from the lord-lieutenant of the county, 
 complimenting him on the zeal and ability he 
 had displayed, on some particular occasion, in his 
 capacity of magistrate ; and, directly opposite, 
 his own portrait, a superb full-length, as Mayor 
 of the borough of Humbug. 
 
 From the circumstance of his being rich, I 
 was prepared also to find Mr. Snodgrass genteel
 
 138 SORROWS OF 
 
 and handsome. Nor was I disappointed. It is 
 astonishing what a superiority in point of ap- 
 pearance a rich man possesses over a poor one. 
 I hate poor men. In this respect I am quite a 
 magistrate. 
 
 For the rest, the Alderman was just such a 
 man as may be met with in the Strand or on 
 'Change any hour in the day ; a shrewd, active, 
 hot-tempered John Bull; about fifty years of 
 age ; self-conceited, but far from proud ; frugal 
 and, perhaps, penurious, except where his vanity 
 was concerned, when he could be as lavish of 
 his money as a spendthrift. 
 
 On taking my seat, after the usual prelimi- 
 naries, &c., I opened on the purport of my visit, 
 which being duly explained, I drew forth the 
 requisition from my pocket, placed it in the 
 Alderman^s hands, and watched attentively each 
 change of his countenance, as, adjusting his 
 spectacles, he ran over the list of signatures, 
 and muttered a few words on each ; " Giles 
 Markland ; good, an old colleague of mine on
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 139 
 
 the bench. James Portsoken; hah! a con- 
 nexion, by marriage, of Mrs. S. did a deal of 
 business some years since in the soap line. 
 Anthony Catchflat ; hem ! an attorney, in the 
 Gazette last year, but honest, I believe, not- 
 withstanding. John Charles Battiscomb" 
 the Alderman lingered over these words with 
 evident satisfaction " well, now, this really is 
 most nattering. \ If there be one man in all 
 Humbug I esteem more than another, Alder- 
 man Battiscomb is that man. A more respect- 
 able individual never breathed. They do say, 
 indeed, he's worth half a million." In this 
 manner Mr. Snodgrass kept commenting on the 
 different signatures, till having gone through 
 the list, he placed it on the table, and said, with 
 a sigh " The requisition, Mr. I beg par- 
 don, but I really forget your name." 
 
 " O'Blarney," 
 
 " Well, Mr. CTBlarney, the requisition which 
 you have done me the honour to be the bearer 
 of, is, I need scarcely say, most flattering to my
 
 140 SORROWS OF 
 
 feelings, and could I but accept the handsome 
 offer of the committee, I would do so most 
 gladly ; but, Sir, there are grave considerations 
 in the way, which " 
 
 " I know to what you allude, Sir; but I 
 flatter myself I can adduce reasons that shall 
 convince you that, as a public man, you are 
 perfectly unfettered." 
 
 The Alderman shook his head. " It is im- 
 possible, Sir ; I am too old to rat. 1 ' 
 
 " Nor would the committee dare to hope 
 such a thing. In fact, Sir, it is the conviction 
 that such a phrase cannot, by any possibility, 
 apply to you, that brings me here to-day." 
 
 " Not apply not apply ? Indeed how so ? 
 Explain yourself." 
 
 " Why, Sir, it must be evident to all men of 
 the slightest discernment, that a public cha- 
 racter, so well known and so generally esteemed 
 as yourself, and one, too, who has so much at 
 stake, would never dream of altering his line of 
 policy, except from the pressing dictates "
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 141 
 
 " Humph !" interrupted Mr. Snodgrass, with 
 a disappointed air ; " very correct, no doubt ; 
 but fine words butter no parsnips. As a man 
 of honour, and holding the station I do in the 
 borough, I am compromised beyond all hopes 
 of escape. Am I not pledged to Tory prin- 
 ciples ?" 
 
 " Certainly ; but not to Tory tergiversation." 
 
 " No ; that I should set my face against, as I 
 did against the reduction of the Five per Cents. 
 a most scandalous business, which 1 shall 
 never forgive, were I to live a thousand years." 
 
 " You say you are compromised," said I, 
 bringing him back to the point, " to Tory prin- 
 ciples, but not to Tory tergiversation. Be it so. 
 But suppose that Government is going to do 
 with other great questions what it has already 
 done with the Five per Cents., will you tell me, 
 that in such a case, you will be still compro- 
 mised ? Believe me, Mr. Snodgrass, I am 
 supposing no extreme case. The emergency 
 has already arisen. The whole system of Tory
 
 142 SORROWS OF 
 
 policy is at this moment on the eve of important 
 changes, so loud is the discontent of the 
 country, and so influential the independent 
 party, whether in or out of parliament." 
 
 This staggered the Alderman, who, I could 
 clearly perceive, held his opinions more from 
 habit than conviction. After a short pause, I 
 resumed as follows : " Taking all the pecu- 
 liarities of your position into consideration, I 
 cannot see how, with any consistency, you can 
 longer support Ministers. They are of opinion 
 that the Five per Cents, should be reduced. You 
 hold that such reduction is a breach of faith 
 with the national creditor." 
 
 "But you forget that question is settled 
 now." 
 
 " True; and being so settled in the teeth of 
 all their former professions, what security can 
 you have for the future good faith of Mi- 
 nisters ?" 
 
 " Ahem ! There is some sense in what you 
 say ; but remember, that on every other ques-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 143 
 
 tion, I hold the same sentiments as Govern- 
 ment." 
 
 " So you think ; but who is to know what 
 those sentiments are ? Between ourselves, Sir, 
 I have it on the very best authority for it is 
 surprising how soon these things get wind that 
 many of the leading Tory landowners, whose 
 members have hitherto supported Government, 
 are now beginning to think that they will be 
 safer under a more liberal one." 
 
 The Alderman here fell into a profound fit of 
 musing. I did not disturb his reverie, for I 
 saw that it was at work in a right channel. 
 Unwilling, however, that his vacillation should 
 be noticed, he observed in an indifferent tone 
 " Your last piece of intelligence, I must own, 
 surprises me ; for notwithstanding your argu- 
 ments, and really there is a good deal in them, 
 I cannot see how those who have hitherto acted 
 with the Tories, can now consistently support 
 the Whigs. 1 ' 
 
 " For two excellent reasons. First, because
 
 144 SORROWS OF 
 
 the necessities of the day demand a change of 
 measures ; secondly, because the Whigs, equally 
 with the Tories, are pledged to the support of 
 the great landed and monied interests." 
 
 "Right," said the Alderman, with suitablepomp 
 of manner ; " property must have its influence : 
 vested interests must be supported. Let who 
 will be Minister, we must have this protection." 
 
 " Can you doubt it ? The two parties, what- 
 ever thej may once have done, now differ only 
 on minor points." 
 
 *' Indeed ! What say you to Reform ? Your 
 Whigs (or Independents, as you please to call 
 them) are pledged to that at least ; and really 
 to be candid with you, a late abominable 
 transaction has convinced me too, that some 
 sort of snug, quiet, temperate reform is neces- 
 sary. Little did I think I should ever live to 
 entertain such a notion ! But I will encourage 
 no wild Whig theories. I'm a plain, practical 
 man, and always look to facts." 
 
 " Wild Whig theories ! Ah, Mr. Snodgrass,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 145 
 
 if the Whigs have their faults, the Tories have 
 them a thousand times worse. Consider only 
 the indifference, not to say the ingratitude, 
 with which Ministers have passed you over. 
 Why, even that glorious testimony to your 
 public worth which I see hanging above my 
 head, has brought with it nought but barren 
 honour ; while others, even in this very neigh- 
 bourhood, have been loaded with ministerial 
 bounty." 
 
 " Yes, there was Spraggs the barrister, who 
 got that very living for his eldest son, which 
 Lord Leatherhead has promised me for Tom a 
 dozen times." 
 
 " What! a Spraggs preferred to a Snodgrass? 
 Impossible !" 
 
 " Fact." 
 
 ' Monstrous ! Were I situated as you are, 
 Sir, I would at once shew Ministers that I was 
 not a fool to be trifled with a worm to be 
 trodden on with impunity." 
 
 " You are warm, Sir," said Mr. Snodgrass, 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 SORROWS OF 
 
 with a bland smile ; " and though your feelings 
 do you -credit, still as I have long since forgiven 
 what, between ourselves, I cannot but look on 
 as a slight " 
 
 " A slight ! A breach of common honesty, 
 you should say." 
 
 " Well, well, my young friend, be it as you 
 please ; only do pray be calm. You see how 
 composed I am. With regard to the question 
 before us, I have merely to say and I beg 
 you to assure the committee, that I say 
 so with deep regret that under existing 
 circumstances, I must decline their handsome 
 offer. A man of my station, Mr. O'Blarney, 
 cannot chop and change as if he were a mere 
 Nobody ! I have a character to support, Sir." 
 
 " Since this is the case then, Mr. Snodgrass, 
 " I replied, rising to take leave, " there is no 
 more to be said. Yet I could have wished it 
 had been otherwise, if only by way of answer to 
 those gentlemen whom no later than yesterday, 
 I myself heard declare in the town-hall, that
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 147 
 
 no matter what tergiversations Ministers might 
 be guilty of, Miles Snodgrass would still stick 
 by them, for he had neither the sense to think, 
 nor the spirit to act for himself." 
 
 This seasonable taunt changed the whole na- 
 ture of the Alderman's position. With a loud 
 voice and flashing eye, he exclaimed, " Ah ! 
 what's that you say ? Sit down Sir, sit down ; 
 you are so hasty so precipitate." 
 
 Resuming my seat, I repeated slowly and 
 emphatically every word I had just uttered, 
 with the addition of such inflammatory phrases 
 as might make the fitting impression on Mr. 
 Snodgrass's mind. My sneers had just the ef- 
 fect I calculated on ; for before I had half 
 finished, he started from his seat, rudely inter- 
 rupting me with, " And did they say this, 
 Sir ? Did they really dare to speak so of a man 
 who for years past but I say nothing, Sir 
 mark me, I say nothing ; but this I will say, 
 that the public service is the most thankless 
 the most And they really said this, did they ?" 
 
 H2
 
 148 SORROWS OF 
 
 " They did, indeed ; but you have it in your 
 power nobly to refute the calumny. Join the 
 Whigs, who, by-the-by, have always dreaded 
 your influence, and those dangerous powers of 
 oratory which" 
 
 " What, then, you heard of the speech I 
 made during my Mayoralty ? It certainly did 
 create a stir at the time," added the Alderman, 
 recovering in some degree his self-complacency. 
 
 " And no wonder. You are aware, of course, 
 Sir, that the Living of St. Andrew's is just 
 about to be vacated by the promotion of the 
 present incumbent to a deanery ?"' 
 
 " I never heard a syllable of it," said the 
 Alderman, musing. 
 
 " It is the richest in all Humbug, I'm told." 
 
 " So they say ; what then ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing. I was merely thinking, that 
 as you intended your son for the church, it would 
 be the very thing to suit him. The patron, you 
 are aware, is a staunch Whig, and as I have 
 good reason to believe, exceedingly anxious that
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 149 
 
 a person of your rank and ability should be 
 returned for the borough." 
 
 " My dear Sir," said the Alderman with ani- 
 mation, " your arguments are so convincing, and 
 the justice and necessity of the case so apparent, 
 that that in short, Mr. O'Blarney, I accept 
 the flattering offer of the committee. I will 
 shew Ministers what it is to overlook I mean, 
 Sir, that by deeds as well as words, I will prove 
 that I have the public good at heart. But you 
 are quite sure the Living is about to fall va- 
 cant? 1 ' 
 
 " I heard so from the incumbent's own lips." 
 
 " What a capital thing for Tom ! Not that 
 this has the slightest weight with me. I am 
 not a man to be biassed by interested motives, 
 as I think I have sufficiently shown in the sa- 
 crifices I have already made for my king and 
 country ;" and the Alderman looked the very 
 image of patriotic benevolence. 
 
 At this moment we were interrupted by a 
 light tap at the door, and his bailiff entered the
 
 150 SORROWS OF 
 
 room. "Beg pardon, Sir, but it was Missis's 
 wish that " 
 
 " Your mistress should have known better," 
 replied Mr. Snodgrass, sharply, " than to send 
 you here, when she knew I was busy. What 
 do you want ?" 
 
 After sundry preliminary hems and haws, 
 the bailiff commenced a somewhat copious nar- 
 rative of the distresses of one of Mr. Snodgrass's 
 tenants, who, with his wife and three children, had 
 been burnt out of house and home a few nights 
 previously, and, as a last resource, had requested 
 the bailiff to lay his case before the Alderman. 
 
 '* Burnt out ! Starving wife and family ! 
 Aye, aye, the old story. What business has a 
 poor man with such a litter ? Pretty thing, if 
 all my tenants who have families were to apply 
 to me for support !" 
 
 " Missis says, Sir, says she, if you can only 
 assist them, just till they can " 
 
 " Wliat ! assist a fellow from whom I have not 
 received a farthing's rent for the last year ?"
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 151 
 
 " But the man and his family are actually 
 starving, Sir," replied the honest fellow, waxing 
 bold in a good cause. 
 
 " Starving, John ! Ho wean that be? There's 
 lots of excellent soup and meat twice a week 
 
 at the work-house. I tasted the soup once 
 
 i 
 myself, and really " making a wry face, as if 
 
 he had swallowed physic, " it was not so 
 much amiss."" 
 
 " It is but a small matter, Sir, that is M 
 
 " Small or large, I can do nothing ; so leave 
 us ; Mr. O'Blarney and myself are busy." 
 
 Aware that all further expostulation was 
 useless, the bailiff quitted the room ; and Mr. 
 Snodgrass continued, "As you were saying, 
 Mr.O'Blarney, when this blockhead interrupted 
 us, I feel conscious that I have it in my power 
 to be of some little service to my country. 
 What is fortune to a man who has the good of 
 his fellow-men at heart ? But how are we to 
 win over the Corporation ?* 
 
 * Leave that to the committee, Sir."
 
 152 SORROWS OF 
 
 " And the Dissenters ?" 
 
 " You can subscribe a hundred pounds to 
 their Institution.'" 1 
 
 " Humph ! won't fifty ? But no matter ; it 
 shall be as you say." 
 
 " I am to presume then all is settled ?" 
 
 " Unquestionably, for if I expend my last 
 shilling, I am resolved the citizens of Humbug 
 shall see that Miles Snodgrass is not quite the 
 fool they take him for. But the Whigs are 
 sanguine of success, you say ?" 
 
 " So the committee assures me ;" and with 
 these words, leftst I should be closer pressed on 
 the subject, I abruptly took my leave.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 153 
 
 CHAPTER. XV. 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR AN ELECTION. 
 
 WHILE I was acquainting the committee 
 next day with the success of my first elec- 
 tioneering manoeuvre, and arranging with them 
 all the necessary preliminaries for putting Miles 
 Snodgrass, Esq. of Calico Lodge so he loved 
 to intitule himself into nomination, a footman, 
 bending beneath a weight of gold lace, thrust 
 into my hands a letter from the worthy Alder- 
 man, requesting the favour of my company to 
 dinner " quite in the family way," as the P.S. 
 considerately assured me. 
 
 Of course I was all compliance, and having 
 duly dispatched my reply, sat down, and in 
 concert with the more active members of the 
 H 3
 
 154 SORROWS OF 
 
 committee, drew up the following leading arti- 
 cle (by way of feeler) for the next day's " Fly- 
 ing Reporter" " It is with no slight satisfac- 
 tion we announce the important intelligence 
 that Miles Snodgrass, Esq., of Calico Lodge, 
 has allowed himself to be put in nomination for 
 the borough of Humbug. We need scarcely 
 inform our readers that for many years Mr. 
 Snodgrass has been, what is called, a friend to 
 Ministers. Had these misguided men remained 
 consistent, and adapted their measures to the 
 wants and wishes of the people, he would have 
 been so still ; finding however that it is no 
 longer practicable to act with them, he comes 
 forward with the avowed determination of 
 henceforth owning no party but that of the 
 country. Measures not men, are his motto. 
 Electors of the borough of Humbug, remember 
 your duties. The eyes of Europe are upon you ! 
 Rally round the banners of Snodgrass, who has 
 already sacrificed so much, and is prepared to 
 sacrifice his all in your behalf. He will well
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 155 
 
 and truly represent your interests ; whereas 
 that pensioned hireling, Lord Gilchrist, whom 
 the faction have put forward, will but make 
 you subservient to his own base purposes." 
 
 This feeler roused the bile of all the Humbug 
 Tories. The Corporation in particular were 
 astounded, though like experienced tacticians 
 they kept their feelings to themselves. Among 
 them was one Alderman Slyboots, a man who 
 on the partial secession of Mr. Snodgrass from 
 public life, had succeeded to much of his in- 
 fluence with the fraternity. This person it was 
 a great object with me to gain over. But in vain 
 I pumped sounded and tried to get a clue 
 to his weak points. He was too well aware of 
 his position, to compromise his importance by 
 siding prematurely either with a Snodgrass or 
 a Gilchrist. 
 
 But though the Corporation with their Cory- 
 pheus Slyboots were thus reserved not so with 
 the Tory organ, the " Miraculous Express," 
 which the very day after the publication of my
 
 156 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 leader, replied in the following classic terms : 
 " Our cotemporary, the ' Flying Reporter,' an- 
 nounces the astounding fact, that Iscariot 
 Snodgrass intends to offer himself for this in- 
 sulted borough on, what he calls, the inde- 
 pendent interest that is to say, on the interest 
 of the Great Unwashed ! Mr. Snodgrass, 1 
 quoth our cotemporary in his usual pompous 
 style, ' comes forward with the intention of 
 henceforth owning no party but that of the 
 country.' Now the plain English of this is 
 Snodgrass has ratted ! He has surrendered 
 himself up, bound hand and foot, to the Radi- 
 cals and the atheists ! But we have our eyes 
 on this worse than Judas. Meantime, Tories 
 of Humbug, look well to yourselves ! Up, and 
 be stirring in all quarters. You have a glo- 
 rious example before you in the patriotic, the 
 high-souled Slyboots, who is, night and day, at 
 his post." 
 
 From the period at which this wordy war- 
 fare commenced, down to the close of the
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 157 
 
 election, all was uproar in the borough, each 
 party striving which should outbribe the other. 
 Among other " signs of the times," the price of 
 various household utensils rose in a most extra- 
 ordinary manner. Tongs and pokers looked 
 up. Coal-scuttles were above par. I myself 
 gave one elector five pounds for a saucepan 
 without the lid ; a second, ten for a bed candle- 
 stick ; and a third, not less than fifteen for 
 a cracked tea-cup ! Oh virtuous times ! Oh 
 virgin purity of election ! Perish the wretch 
 who could have the heart to corrupt ye by 
 the Ballot !
 
 158 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A FAMILY PARTY. 
 
 4fe 
 
 THE hall clock was just on the stroke of six, 
 as I entered Mr. Snodgrass's drawing-room, 
 where I found all the family present, except 
 the eldest and youngest son, the former of 
 whom was putting the finishing stroke to his 
 education at Cambridge. His mother spoke in 
 raptures of this young manV precocity, in 
 which she was joined by Miss Anna Maria 
 Snodgrass, a spinster addicted to Sunday 
 schools and the patronage of all the rising ge- 
 niuses of the district ; and whose face, broad at 
 the forehead and peaked at the chin like a kite 
 and which by-the-by, she rarely showed but
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 159 
 
 in profile gave undeniable token that she was 
 of an intellectual turn of mind. 
 
 The youngest daughter Isabel was in every 
 respect the reverse of her sister. The one was 
 grave and predisposed to sanctity ; the other, 
 all smiles and ecstasy. The one was a Blue, the 
 other a torn-boy. The one seemed astonished 
 at nothing; the other, at every thing. The 
 one was tall, lean, "and straight from head to 
 foot, like a bed-post ; the other, short, fat, and 
 remarkable for a fine expanse of foot, which 
 spreading out semicularly, like a lady's fan, at 
 the toes, lent peculiar weight and safety to her 
 tread. 
 
 As for Mrs. Snodgrass, she was a plump, 
 buxom relic of the old school a cross between 
 the mistress and the housekeeper. She dressed 
 invariably in the brightest colours, wore 
 pockets, and persisted in carrying about with 
 her a huge bunch of keys. In temper, she 
 was the perfection of homely, hearty good-hu- 
 mour, and was fond of seasoning her talk with
 
 160 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 parentheses, and indulging in allusions to her 
 brother, a barrister in some practice at the 
 Chancery-bar. 
 
 During dinner, a more than ordinary tacitur- 
 nity prevailed. The Alderman in particular, 
 who held all conversations during meals as an 
 act of folly, if not profaneness, said little or 
 nothing. The very utmost licence of speech he 
 allowed himself, even on that subject which 
 lay next his heart, the election, was a stray 
 remark or two thrown off between the courses. 
 " Why yes," he would say on such occasions, in 
 reply to observations previously made by one or 
 other of the party, " your opinion of Gilchrist 
 
 is very just, Maria Izzy,are those artichokes 
 
 near you? and as for the Corporation, 
 
 O'Blarney, I agree with you that with a little 
 dexterous management we may contrive to win 
 
 them over Mrs. S., that haunch looks so 
 
 tempting that I really think I must venture 
 
 again besides* Slyboots is almost the only 
 
 man among them all, whose principles may be
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 161 
 
 said to be fixed Maria, I'll thank you for 
 
 a wing of one of those partridges : don't trou- 
 ble yourself, O' Blarney, Maria is a capital 
 carver." 
 
 I did trouble myself however, and with my 
 usual luck, for in attempting to anatomize the 
 bird, I happened bashful men are always 
 awkward to baptize Miss Snodgrass with the 
 gravy, and dispatched a leg over the way to her 
 sister. This catastrophe elicited a loud laugh 
 from the frolicsome girl, for which her mother 
 thought fit to apologize : " She is so full of 
 life, Mr. O'Blarney (Izzy, my dear, you've 
 got no vegetables, you know I dislike your 
 eating meat without them), quite the child of 
 nature ; indeed, her spirits are too much for her 
 strength." 
 
 " I was not laughing at Mr. O'Blarney, 
 Mamma," replied Isabel, and was proceeding 
 still further to vindicate her innocence, when 
 her father bluntly checked, her by saying, 
 " Hold your tongue, child, and attend to your
 
 162 SORROWS OF 
 
 business ;" shortly after which, the cloth being 
 withdrawn, he took off his spectacles, placed a 
 dry crust beside him which remained over from 
 the cheese, and looked about him with the be- 
 nignant air of one who has just fulfilled a sacred 
 duty. There is nothing like a good dinner to 
 bring out the humanities. 
 
 " John," said Mrs. Snodgrass, as the footman 
 was arranging the dessert, " you have forgotten 
 to place a chair for Master Samuel." 
 
 The man hastened to repair his omission, 
 after which the bell was rung twice, and almost 
 instantly followed by the entrance of a mis- 
 chievous-looking urchin, about six years old, 
 with his hair combed straight over his forehead, 
 and his face shining with soap and water. 
 
 This imp had no sooner taken his seat, than 
 he began helping himself to every thing within 
 the reach of his talons. I was convinced by 
 this that he was a spoiled child, so coaxing 
 him towards me with the offer of an orange, I 
 planted him on my knee, and patting him on
 
 A BASHFUL IB-ISHMAN. 163 
 
 the head, said, " Well, my fine little fellow, 
 and what's your name ?" 
 
 " Samuel, Charlton," replied the boy, as 
 demurely as if he were answering the first ques- 
 tion in the catechism. 
 
 " I have named him Charlton," observed 
 his father, with emphasis, after a gentleman of 
 that name, to whom I dedicated the printed 
 copy of a speech I made during my Mayoralty. 
 
 " I see you're fond of children, 1 ' said the 
 gratified mother ; " Sam takes to you quite 
 naturally. Would you believe it, Mr. O'Blar- 
 ney "' 
 
 '* CT Blarney," said the urchin, with a grin, 
 " what a funny name f 
 
 " Sweet simplicity !" resumed the good lady, 
 '* would you believe it, Sir (Maria, do, pray, 
 take that knife out of Izzy's hands) young as 
 he is, he has already got the multiplication- 
 table by heart ? Sammy, dear, hold up your 
 head, and tell the gentleman how much twice 
 nine makes."
 
 164 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 ' Ten !" screamed the lad. 
 
 " Oh fie ! guess again." 
 
 " Eleven !" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Twelve!" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Eighteen.' 
 
 " Right, Sara," said his father ; " that lad, 
 I'm thinking, Mr. O'Blarney, will make a 
 figure in the world." 
 
 I was just about to reply, when a sudden 
 acute twinge caused me involuntarily to cry 
 out, " Oh Christ !" and on directing my at- 
 tention to the part affected, I caught the pro- 
 mising Samuel busily engaged in driving his 
 father's tooth-pick into my knee. 
 
 " Gracious Heavens ! what's the matter ?" 
 enquired Mrs. Snodgrass, with an air of much 
 concern. 
 
 " A mere trifle," I replied, striving hard to 
 look good-natured ; " the sprightly little fellow 
 has been boring a hole in my knee-pan, that's
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 165 
 
 all : but children, boys especially, are so en- 
 gaging at his age ! It's quite impossible to be 
 angry with them." 
 
 I thought Isabel would have gone into fits 
 at this explanation, which so tickled her bro- 
 ther, who even at that early age was impressed 
 with a notion that he was a wag, that he played 
 off a variety of other tricks, until at length his 
 pranks became so intolerable, that his mother, 
 in self-defence, was compelled to order him up 
 stairs to-bed. 
 
 But here ensued a scene which baffles all de- 
 scription. Notwithstanding his mother's coax- 
 ings, the brat refused to stir, and while the 
 nurse was preparing to carry him up stairs, 
 freed himself by a desperate effort from her 
 grasp, clung to the green baize for protection, 
 pulled it half off the table, and brought plates, 
 glasses, and decanters to the ground. 
 
 In an instant all was confusion. The Al- 
 derman started up to save as much as he could 
 from the wreck, but happening to make a false
 
 166 SORROWS OF 
 
 step, was thrown forward on Mrs. Snodgrass, 
 who, upset by the shock of this novel impetus, 
 plunged backwards with a scream ; while, to 
 make matters worse, a tom-cat on whom her 
 husband had trod, roused from a nap on the 
 hearth-rug, dug his claws into his calf; so 
 that what with the yellings of the cat, the 
 screaming of Mrs. Snodgrass, and the astonish- 
 ment, mixed with laughter, of the rest of the 
 group, the scene was one of the richest farce I 
 ever remember. 
 
 In about half an hour tranquillity was re- 
 stored, and the Alderman, having appeased his 
 wrath by a bumper of claret, said " You'll 
 excuse what I am going to say, Mr. O'Blarney 
 
 curse the cat, how she has scratched my leg ! 
 
 
 but the fact is, Sir, I always make a pint of 
 
 taking a nap after dinner ; no matter who may 
 be here, I never give up my nap ; but help 
 yourself, don't mind me. Mrs. S., you'll take 
 care of Mr. CTBlarney," and so saying, without 
 further ceremony, the Alderman threw himself 
 
 .^ -*
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 167 
 
 back in his arm-chair, and in a few minutes was 
 fast asleep. 
 
 " Have you read Kenil worth ?" asked Miss 
 Snodgrass, as she beheld her father's chin give 
 its first decided bob against his chest. 
 
 " I cannot say I have, my time of late has 
 been too much occupied for such reading." 
 
 "That's just my case, Mr. O'Blarney," ob- 
 served Mrs. Snodgrass. 
 
 '< La! Mamma, how can you say so; you know 
 it is not a month since you finished the tale." 
 
 " Oh ! true, love, I remember I read it at 
 the recommendation of my brother the bar- 
 rister; and if I recollect rightly (Izzy, don't 
 sit with your legs crossed), there was some- 
 thing in it about a grand dinner given at 
 Kenilworth Castle, which reminded me, as I 
 mentioned to you at the time, of your father's 
 Mayor's feast." 
 
 " So Lord George Gilchrist has really arrived 
 in the neighbourhood ?" interrupted Miss Snod- 
 grass, testily.
 
 168 SORROWS OF 
 
 " Yes," I replied, ' are you acquainted with 
 him ?" 
 
 " Not at all. I have seen him once or twice ; 
 he is quite a young man, apparently not more 
 than thirty. 1 ' 
 
 " Do you call that young, Maria ?" enquired 
 Isabel, " I call it being quite old." 
 
 "Old!" said Miss Snodgrass, "you don't 
 know what you're talking about, child." 
 
 " His Lordship must have felt it a great 
 sacrifice to quit town at this gay season, 1 ' I 
 observed, " and for such a troublesome business 
 as an election, too Of course you know what 
 a London spring is, Miss Snodgrass." 
 
 " I am ashamed to say I never was in London 
 but on one occasion, and then for a very short 
 time. For the last five years Papa has regu- 
 larly talked of indulging us with a trip there, 
 but one thing or other always interferes to 
 prevent it. In the first place, he hates being 
 put out of his way : then Mamma has her ob- 
 jections "
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 169 
 
 " I have objections certainly, Maria. To 
 say nothing of the trouble of packing up, and 
 the chance of damp sheets in one's lodgings, 
 the expense of a season in London is, I am told, 
 beyond what could be conceived. 1 ' 
 
 " Expense, my dear Madam,"" I replied, in 
 no little alarm, li surely you must be under a 
 misapprehension !" I then proceeded to expa- 
 tiate on the advantages of an occasional re- 
 sidence in the metropolis; to Miss Snodgrass 
 I talked of the agreeable tone of its literary 
 society ; while I whetted her sister's curiosity 
 by dwelling on its various public exhibitions, 
 balls, theatres, dances, and so forth. 
 
 The bait took as I desired. "Oh, Mamma !'' 
 said Isabel, jumping up, and clapping her 
 hands in ecstasy, " how delightful ! Do, pray, 
 let us leave this horrid dull place. I shall 
 never be happy till I go to London. There's 
 Mary Andrews goes once every spring, and 
 she's a year younger than I am. Oh ! I do so 
 want to see all the sights. And the dancing, 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 SORROWS OF 
 
 too ! I'm so fond of dancing, you can't think ! 
 When shall we set off, ma ?" 
 
 Before her mother could reply, the Alderman 
 woke up from his nap, which was the signal for 
 the ladies retiring into the drawing-room. 
 When the door had closed on them, he said, 
 putting on a look of official gravity, " I never 
 talk of business before women ; but now they're 
 gone, we can discuss matters at our ease." He 
 then enquired minutely into all the particulars 
 of my reception by the committee, compli- 
 mented me on my address to the electors, and 
 vowed, that if he expended his last shilling, he 
 would let people see he was not quite the fool 
 they took him for* 
 
 Of course I was all admiration of such con- 
 duct. " But," I added in my most persuasive 
 manner, " Mr, Snodgrass must be aware that 
 in contests of this nature ready money was the 
 main desideratum ; if, therefore, he would place 
 at my disposal certain sums which were requi- 
 site for the service of the committee, who had
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 done me the honour to place themselves under 
 my guidance, I would stake all my Irish estates 
 on the chances of his success." 
 
 This direct allusion to money matters put the 
 old fellow on his mettle. In an instant he 
 Avas all caution. 
 
 " Ahem ! we'll talk of this to-morrow. Help 
 yourself. 11 
 
 " But, my dear Sir, consider that in these 
 cases promptitude is the life and soul of busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " True, very true, but still " 
 
 " I know what you would say; but remem- 
 ber, Sir, the old adage, ' nothing venture, 
 nothing gain.' An election I will not deny 
 the fact is like every thing else, a lottery, but, 
 in this particular instance, it is a lottery in 
 which a prize is all but certain. And what a 
 prize ! To you, Sir, whose eloquence is so well 
 known, it must be beyond all price. I almost 
 fancy I see you rising for the first time in the 
 House. Ministers are in despair the Opposi- 
 i 2
 
 J72 SORROWS OF 
 
 tion in ecstasies ; while the TIMES, next morn- 
 ing, in noticing your triumphant debtit, says 
 ' Loud cheers from all parts of the House 
 followed the conclusion of the Hon. Member's 
 speech/ " 
 
 " Enough enough," said the Alderman, in 
 that peculiar manner which betrays marked sa- 
 tisfaction, while it would fain affect indifference; 
 " nothing, as you say, is to be done without 
 ready money," and acceded, without further 
 hesitation, to my demand ; but then, as if glad 
 to get rid of an ungracious topic, he rose from 
 his seat, and led the way to the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 During tea-time I took my station beside 
 Miss Snodgrass, who had a thousand gossiping 
 nothings to say about Lord George and the 
 election, while her father occupied himself by 
 poring over the contents of the London news- 
 paper. 
 
 When the equipage was cleared away, my 
 fair neighbour went into the back drawing-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 room, and returned almost immediately after 
 with horresco referens ! a splendidly bound 
 Album, which she placed in my hands, adding, 
 " I am sure you are fond of elegant literature 
 by your conversation, though perhaps you are 
 too modest to say so (it is astonishing what 
 keen insight women have into character !) re- 
 member, therefore, that I shall depend on you 
 for a contribution ; nay, no excuse you are 
 compromised."" 
 
 " Compromised P said her father, throw- 
 ing aside his Paper, " who says I am compro- 
 mised ?" then instantly recovering himself, he 
 added, in a gayer tone, " Pooh ! pooh ! my 
 brain is always running upon politics." 
 
 "The choice of subject," continued Miss 
 Snodgrass, taking no notice of this interrup- 
 tion, " I leave to yourself, though T had 
 rather it should be something in verse, for of 
 all things poetry is " 
 
 " A pack of rubbish," said the Alderman, " if
 
 174 SORROWS OF 
 
 I had my will, I'd clap every poet in the stocks; 
 I never had dealings with but one, and he " 
 
 " I know whom you're thinking of, papa 
 poor young Atkinson, your clerk, whom you 
 dismissed last year for setting fire to his bed- 
 curtains. But you should make allowances 
 for the eccentricities of genius." 
 
 " Genius, forsooth ! why, the fellow could 
 not cast up a sum in Addition. But enough of 
 him. O'Blarney, do you play whist ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Sorry for that ; for Mrs. S. and myself love 
 a quiet rubber, now and then. Backgammon ? 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, then, suppose you sing us a song or 
 two, Maria. Mr. CTBlarney, I dare say, is fond 
 of music." 
 
 To be sure I was : indeed, it was quite a pas- 
 sion with me a confession which raised me still 
 higher in the good graces of the young lady. 
 
 But let no man vaunt his love of music. It is
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 175 
 
 a dangerous boast, and never fails to carry its 
 own punishment along with it. Miss Snodgrass 
 chirped one, two, three Italian airs ; then came 
 a duet with Isabel ; then a French canzonet ; 
 and lastly, the well known " Oh ! 'tis love, 'tis 
 love!" sung with a twist of the mouth peculiarly 
 provocative of that passion. 
 
 But as all sublunary matters must have an 
 end, so a termination was at length put even to 
 Miss Snodgrass's musical displays; and at a 
 late hour I quitted the Lodge, but not before 
 the Alderman had insisted on my making his 
 house my home, whenever I found it con- 
 venient.
 
 176 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A CONTESTED ELECTION. 
 
 THE day of the election had now arrived, and 
 all Humbug was alive with the hum of thou- 
 sands passing through from the neighbouring 
 villages towards a large field that skirted the 
 town, in the centre of which (the Guild- 
 hall being under repairs) the hustings were 
 erected. 
 
 At the appointed hour, the official gentry made 
 their appearance, followed by the Tory candi- 
 date, Lord George Gilchrist, who had no sooner 
 taken his station, when aloud uproar announced 
 the advent of the great hero of the day Miles 
 Snodgrass, Esq. ! He arrived in imposing 
 state, in a carriage drawn by four horses, pro-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 177 
 
 fusely decorated with ribbons. Beside him, 
 sate the whole existing dynasty of the Snocl- 
 grasses, radiant with the colours of the rain- 
 bow, and simpering benignly at the crowd 
 which deafened them with huzzas. 
 
 And now the great man alights ! The cheers 
 are tremendous. He ascends the hustings ! 
 The cheers are redoubled. Already he is within 
 a yard of his opponent, when oh, death to 
 the dignified and the picturesque ! his foot 
 slips, an irreverend exclamation escapes him, 
 and he is precipitated, by the force of gravi- 
 tation, head-foremost into the arms of an elderly 
 Whig who is eyeing him with evident pride 
 through a pair of green spectacles. Luckily 
 no damage was sustained, and, in a few minutes, 
 the Alderman re-appeared, emerging from the 
 sea of heads that blackened beneath him, like 
 Achilles from the waters of the Styx. 
 
 When the confusion which this little incident 
 occasioned had subsided, the rival candidates 
 were proposed, seconded, and so forth ; after 
 18
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 which, polling commenced, and terminated in a 
 majority of ten, in favour of Lord George. 
 
 His Lordship first came forward to return 
 thanks. He was all smiles and sunshine ; en- 
 logized Church and State ; deprecated the 
 slightest innovation on a Constitution which 
 was the envy and wonder of surrounding nations, 
 and which the wisdom of our ancestors had ren- 
 dered perfect ; and would have wound up by a 
 peroration of (no doubt) surpassing splendour, 
 had not his eloquence been cavalierly abridged 
 by a loud, universal groan, as if ten thousand 
 individuals were at one and the same moment 
 seized with the cholic. 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass followed. " Gentlemen," said 
 he. " Gentlemen, this is the proudest moment of 
 my life (loud cheers), for which reason, my heart 
 (cheers} wherefore, I say, Gentlemen, I feel it 
 an unparalleled honour to be called on by 
 so numerous and respectable a constituency 
 to represent the free and independent borough 
 of Humbug. Rely on it, if you return me
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 179 
 
 (cheers), I will act only in accordance with 
 your interests; for I am attached to the ex- 
 cellencies, not the defects, of the Constitution ; 
 for born and eddicated a Briton, I glory in 
 the name (enthusiastic applause) ; but, though 
 a ahem ! Briton ahem ! I am attached to 
 the excellencies, not the defects of I mean, I 
 glory in the name of that is to say, born and 
 
 eddicated a ." Here the worthy Alderman 
 
 paused a few moments, evidently overcome by 
 his emotion ; after which, he proceeded to state 
 that he was strictly independent in his prin- 
 ciples, being attached neither to Whigs nor 
 Tories ; that he was favourable to a moderate 
 reform, a reduction of taxation, a modified sys- 
 tem of free trade ; and concluded, amidst loud 
 applause, by saying that, though last on the 
 poll, he hailed the omen as being auspicions of 
 future victory. 
 
 At the close of this matchless specimen of 
 eloquence, the candidates quitted the hustings, 
 and, accompanied by the dense crowd, with the
 
 180 SORROWS OF 
 
 exception of a few who lingered behind to wit- 
 ness a fight between two bricklayers of opposite 
 politics, made the best of their way back to their 
 respective hotels and taverns. 
 
 In England nothing can be done without a 
 dinner. The rival candidates well aware of 
 this, had each provided one worthy of the occa- 
 sion ; and, as evening drew on, the effects of 
 such unrivalled cheer began rapidly to develop 
 themselves in the speeches of the influential 
 electors at the leading hotels ; and more espe- 
 cially in the gait and gestures of the bludgeon- 
 men, who kept sallying forth, in small parties of 
 two and three, from the lower public-houses 
 towards the market-place. 
 
 It so happened that, just as a group of these, 
 composed equally of Snodgrasses and Gilchrists, 
 had turned out from their respective quarters 
 for fresh air, but in reality for an adjustment 
 of differences after the usual electioneering 
 fashion, a showman in the interest, as was sus- 
 pected, of the Gilchrist faction, announced a
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 181 
 
 series of necromantic entertainments in the 
 market-place. 
 
 This announcement, as coming from a Tory, 
 was resented as arrant presumption by the 
 Whigs, who insisted on the man's instant eva- 
 nishment. In vain the poor conjuror assured 
 them that he was of the juste-milieu in politics, 
 and cared nothing for either party ; the Snod- 
 grasses were bent upon a row ; upon which the 
 showman, like many a temporizing politician 
 before him, finding he could make nothing by 
 duplicity, at once threw off the mask, and called 
 for support on the Gilchrists. 
 
 When did Briton ever turn a deaf ear to the 
 cry of misfortune ? The appeal was answered 
 on the spot by a battle between the two factions, 
 both of whom being reinforced by detachments 
 red-hot from the public-houses, set to work with 
 the fixed determination, as one of the ring- 
 leaders observed, of " having it out." 
 
 And now commenced a conflict to which it 
 would require the genius of a Fielding to do jus-
 
 182 SORROWS OF 
 
 tice. There was not a moment's delay on either 
 side. Legs, arms, lungs each was put into in- 
 stant, active requisition ; heads violated the "fit- 
 ness of things," by taking up a position wher 
 heels should be ; bludgeon jarred against blud- 
 geon; skulls gave out hollow sounds like drums; 
 old women and apple- stalls were strewed here, 
 committee-men and constables there ; while, by 
 way of adding to the uproar, every bell in the 
 town was set a-ringing, every dog in the town 
 a-barking ; maid-servants squalled from the 
 house-tops ; ladies went into hysterics in the 
 drawing-room ; cooks resolved themselves into 
 dew into the kitchen ; crash went windows, 
 doors, and lamp-posts ; down from all quarters 
 came shutters, pails, and bow-pots ; up flew 
 flags, staves, brick-bats, cabbage-stumps, dead 
 dogs, cats, and turnip-tops; until, at ^length, 
 the entire market-place, from the parish-pump 
 in the north, to the piggeries in the south, was 
 strewed with pyramids of bodies like a new- 
 mown field with hay- cocks.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 183 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass and myself, together with our 
 committee, were seated over our wine at the 
 Cock and Toothpick, when the tidings of this 
 terrific melee reached our ears. At first, we 
 concluded it was merely a slight squabble got 
 up to diversify the evening's entertainments ; 
 but soon the sounds of war deepened, and pre- 
 sently in rushed a waiter with his head bound 
 up, who conjured us to save ourselves by flight, 
 as the Tories, having defeated the Whigs, were 
 already in full march for the hotel. 
 
 While debating what was to be done in this 
 emergency, the landlord staggered into the 
 room, ghastly as a newly-shrouded corpse. 
 " Fly ! fly ! save yourselves ; five hundred of 
 the Gilchrists will be down on us in an instant 
 and the house not insured too !" 
 
 Hardly had these words escaped the poor 
 fellow, when, bang ! came a brick-bat through 
 the window, caught him in the midriff, doubled 
 him up, and shot him right under the chair- 
 man. This hint was followed up by a huge
 
 184 SORROWS OF 
 
 volley of stones, which had the immediate effect 
 of scattering us in all directions. Some flew up, 
 and some down stairs ; while others, among whom 
 wasMr. Snodgrass, dived with incredible agility 
 into the subterranean abysses of the coal-cellar. 
 
 J 
 
 As for myself, I sallied out at the back en- 
 trance of the hotel, and, snatching a Gilchrist 
 shillelagh from a drunken Tory who was stretched 
 full length in the gutter, fought my way to the 
 market-place, where the very first object that 
 caught my eye, was a smooth, round, baldpate 
 popping cautiously in and out of a cobbler's 
 stall. The sight of this polished sconce, shining 
 in the moonlight, was too tempting to be re- 
 sisted by one in my frolicsome and pugnacious 
 mood ; so stealing up on tip-toe towards the 
 stall, I waited till the skull was next popped out, 
 when I let fall my shillelagh upon it quite a 
 gentle pat but instantly such a shout was set 
 up, of, "Murder!" and "Thieves!' 1 that I 
 had nothing left for it but to make a preci- 
 pitate retreat.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 185 
 
 Meantime the battle in front of the Cock and 
 Toothpick continued to rage like a hurricane, 
 and God knows what might have been the ul- 
 timate consequences, had not a squadron of 
 dragoons, who were quartered within a few miles 
 of the town, been seasonably apprized of the 
 uproar. By the exertions of these warriors, the 
 siege of the Cock and Toothpick was raised, 
 and order, with some difficulty, restored ; but it 
 is melancholy to be compelled to add, that at 
 least a dozen sterling patriots spent the re- 
 mainder of the night in the watch-house.
 
 18G SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 SYMPTOMS OF SOCIALITY. 
 
 LATE in the evening, I returned with Mr. 
 Snodgrass to Calico Lodge, where he insisted 
 on my taking up my quarters for the night. 
 He was in the highest possible spirits, full 
 of good cheer, eloquence, and patriotism. 
 
 " Well, O'Blarney," he asked, " what do you 
 think of our chance now ?" 
 
 " Nothing can be more promising ; Lord 
 George, I have every reason to believe, has 
 nearly exhausted his strength." 
 
 " So they say. Neverthless, I am not with- 
 out my fears about the Corporation. Our can- 
 vass in that quarter has not been such as T had
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 187 
 
 a right to expect. However, the majority, you 
 say, will remain neutral." 
 
 " Such is the general impression of our com- 
 mittee, and the circumstance of Alderman Sly- 
 boots not taking the decisive part it was sup- 
 posed he would, strengthens the notion."" 
 
 " Ah ! you know not that fellow. He is a 
 sly, smooth dog ; says little, but is always plot- 
 ting some mischief. I disliked the look he gave 
 me when we met on the hustings, especially 
 when I saw him, shortly after, busy in close 
 whispering with Lord George." 
 
 " But are there no means of winning him 
 over ? Suppose the ladies pay a visit of inquiry 
 to Mrs. Slyboots on Monday. I am sure her 
 husband must have caught cold from his long 
 exposure to the air on the hustings. By the 
 way, if I mistake not, he has a daughter, of 
 whom he is justly proud ; how lucky that you 
 are on the eve of visiting London, and that there 
 js just room in the carriage for one ! You un- 
 derstand me. Mr. Snodgrass ?""
 
 188 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 " Perfectly ; the idea is excellent. And now 
 tell me, what did you think of my speech ? 
 Egad, I thought Lord George looked a little 
 jealous." 
 
 " Particularly when you alluded in such ener- 
 getic terms to your having been born a Briton. 
 He appeared quite vexed to think you had an- 
 ticipated him in that noble burst of patriotism." 
 
 " Aye, that idea struck me while I was on 
 my way to the hustings. I had always a knack 
 at public speaking. I remember old Lord 
 Leatherhead used to say, ' Take my advice, Mr. 
 Snodgrass, and enter the House. A person of 
 your eloquence and sound principles cannot fail 
 to make a figure. I wish to God we had many 
 such in Parliament.' v 
 
 " The very remark poor Sims was making, 
 when he was knocked down by the butt-end of 
 a bludgeon. 11 
 
 *' What, during that dreadful hubbub at the 
 hotel ?" 
 
 " Yes, we were just stepping out together to
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 189 
 
 see what could be done to restore order, when 
 an Irishman, mistaking him for one of Lord 
 George's voters, levelled him by one handsome 
 flourish of his shillelagh." 
 
 The Alderman laughed heartily at this ac- 
 count, perceiving which, and conscious of the 
 importance of keeping him in good humour, I 
 added, "but this was not the only ridiculous 
 incident I met with during the bustle. On es- 
 caping from the hotel, I turned into one of the 
 more "quiet streets, when, suddenly, a dumpy 
 parish-beadle, close pressed by one of the Gil- 
 christ party, bounded into an inn-yard, near 
 which I was standing. Just as he entered, a 
 fierce little terrier made a bite at his leg, which 
 so alarmed the poor fellow, that he turned round, 
 and bounded back again into the street, coming 
 with his head like a battering-ram, full tilt 
 against his pursuer, whom he shot off the pave- 
 ment, just as you may have seen a sack of coals 
 shot out of " 
 
 Whether there was a particular something in
 
 190 SORROWS OF 
 
 this invention, or in my mode of relating it, su- 
 premely absurd, I know not ; but, before I 
 could bring it to an end, I turned, and behold ! 
 the Alderman in convulsions ! Such a hurri- 
 cane of Hah ! hahs ! His whole frame shook 
 and heaved beneath the jolly tempest, until, 
 at length, I myself caught the infection, and 
 laughed till I was nearly suffocated. 
 
 When the storm had spent its strength, Mr. 
 Snodgrass, wiping the tears from his eyes, said, 
 "O'Blarney, my excellent young friend God, 
 how my sides ache ! you and I have not yet 
 taken a glass of wine together. I tried to catch 
 your eye once or twice at dinner ; but some 
 committee-man or other perpetually interfered. 
 We must repair this omission," and, rising, 
 though not without difficulty, from his seat, he 
 rang the bell for the butler. 
 
 In a few minutes, having received due direc- 
 tions as to the particular bin in which it would 
 be found, the butler reappeared with a bottle 
 of champaign, at the same time placing a small
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 191 
 
 packet of books on the table, which had just 
 arrived by the coach from London. 
 
 The Alderman eagerly opened the parcel, 
 which contained Hansard's Parliamentary De- 
 bates for the two preceding sessions. " I have 
 ordered these," he said, " to enable me to get 
 some insight into the mode of doing business in 
 the House. When a man becomes an M. P.," 
 he added, with dignity, " he must study not to 
 please himself, but his country." 
 
 " Your ideas do credit to your patriotism, 
 Sir. Capital wine this quite a nosegay." 
 
 " You may well say that. Slyboots, who is 
 the best judge of wine I know of, would have 
 given me my own price for it ;" and the Alder- 
 man was proeeeding to enlarge on this favourite 
 theme, when suddenly owing, I suppose, to 
 the excitement of his nerves, and the zeal with 
 which he had pledged, and been pledged by his 
 committee his eyes began to twinkle, and his 
 articulation to thicken. 
 
 At this auspicious crisis, I resumed the sub-
 
 192 SOUBOWS or 
 
 ject of the election. " Mr. Snodgrass," said I, 
 " there are a dozen refractor) voters, of whom, 
 to their shame be it said, I can make nothing. 
 Would you believe it, Sir, the fellows have 
 the face to ask ten pounds each for their vote ? 
 What is to be done? I am really afraid we 
 must bribe the rascals, for it would be a thou- 
 sand pities to risk all for such a trifle. How- 
 ever, you are the best judge. 11 
 
 " Don't mention it ; you shall have the sum 
 instantly ; I have set my heart on gaining the 
 election;" and hurrying into the back-room, he 
 returned in a few minutes with a cheque for the 
 amount, which he requested me to see duly ap- 
 portioned. 
 
 " And now,"" said I, " that this troublesome 
 business is settled, permit me to propose a toast. 
 ' Success to the Hon. Member for Humbug I 1 r 
 
 " Hear, hear !" replied the Alderman, as 
 if he were already seated on the Opposition 
 bench. 
 
 " I really never saw papa so animated before, 11
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 said Miss Snodgrass, who, with her mother and 
 sister, just then entered the room. 
 
 Mrs. Snodgrass was about to make some 
 reply, when the Alderman interrupted her by 
 ringing for a second bottle of champaign, which 
 was no sooner produced, than it was emptied 
 with as much zeal as its predecessor. 
 
 The Alderman accidents will happen to the 
 best of us was, by this time, in that peculiar 
 state which the experienced in such matters 
 have agreed to call " half seas over." " My 
 excellent young friend," 1 " 1 he began, in a sort 
 of muttered, disjointed soliloquy, * you are, 
 without exception, the cleverest fellow I ever 
 met with. Ah, Izzy ! you there? Why, how 
 the child grows ! No wonder my speech made 
 such a hit ! How jealous that Gilchrist was ! 
 And to laugh at me too ! Well let them laugh 
 that win. That's my maxim, and a fine old 
 Tory maxim it is." 
 
 " Whig, you mean, Sir ;" I replied. 
 
 " Right right I love a Tory maxim. De- 
 
 VOL I. K
 
 194 SORROWS OF 
 
 
 pend on it, Sir, the Tories are the only men 
 fit to govern this country." Then, in a more 
 solemn tone, while he shook his head with an 
 air of uncommon gravity, he added, '* excuse 
 what I am going to say, but, really my young 
 friend, I cannot help thinking that you are 
 not quite so you understand me temperance, 
 O'Blarney, temperance is the life and soul of 
 business. Look at me now, 111 do 
 
 What the Alderman would have done, can 
 now only be known on that great day when the 
 secrets of all hearts shall be revealed. What 
 he did, admits of more easy solution. Over- 
 powered by champaign, and a long-continued 
 flow of eloquence, he muttered a few more inar- 
 ticulate sentences, and then sunk fast asleep in 
 his arm-chair. 
 
 " Papa's exertions," said Miss Snodgrass, who 
 could not but perceive the state of the paternal 
 intellect, and wished, indirectly, to apologize 
 for it, " have been too much for his strength, 
 I never saw him so overcome before ;" and then,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 195 
 
 by way of diverting my attention, proposed, 
 that as the night was so calm, and the moon 
 
 so brilliant, we should take a stroll upon the 
 lawn. 
 
 To this the more prudent mother objected, 
 alleging the extreme lateness of the hour ; her 
 opposition, however, was over-ruled, and we all 
 set out together, leaving the unsentimental Al- 
 derman in quiet possession of his arm-chair. 
 
 We walked, as Pope wrote, in couplets. Isa- 
 bel and her mother went first ; Miss Snod- 
 grass and myself followed ; and, as we rambled 
 together about the lawn, on which the moonshine 
 lay as on a carpet of rich, green velvet, our 
 conversation took a more confidential tone than 
 usual ; for single ladies hovering on the dismal 
 verge of thirty, are not apt to be over- reserved 
 or fastidious when wandering alone at midnight 
 with an agreeable and (if I may use the expres- 
 sion) a well-looking, single man, 'whom their 
 parents have honoured with their esteem. 
 
 After a quarter of an hour's stroll, during 
 K 2
 
 196 SORROWS OF 
 
 which we exchanged a thousand sentimental 
 nothings, Mrs. Snodgrass and Isabel rejoined 
 us, with a summons to the drawing-room, least 
 perad venture, as the careful dame alleged, we 
 might catch cold from the heavily falling dews. 
 
 Accordingly, we all returned to the house, and 
 on ascending the steps that led to the hall-door, 
 I turned round to point out to Miss Snodgrass 
 the effect of moonlight on the gravel- walk, when 
 I observed with astonishment that her spare, 
 tall figure, threw forward a shadow that reached 
 full twenty yards down the avenue.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN 197 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 SYMPTOMS OF SENTIMENT. 
 
 THE next day being Sunday, the whole fa- 
 mily attended church as usual, with the exception 
 of the Alderman, who was closeted with me, 
 talking over electioneering matters, and referring 
 every now and then to the Parliamentary Re- 
 gister, in which he seemed to take prodigious 
 interest, as recognizing in it the future record of 
 his eloquence. 
 
 When the family returned home, he dis- 
 patched his wife and Isabel, as had been pre- 
 viously agreed on, on a formal visit of inquiry 
 to Mrs. Alderman Slyboots, while he himself, 
 knowing there was not a moment to be lost, set 
 out on another visit to a couple of Humbug
 
 198 SORROWS OF 
 
 tradesmen, on whom, with all my eloquence, I 
 had hitherto made no impression. 
 
 The house being thus comparatively deserted, 
 Miss Snodgrass considerately proposed that I 
 should accompany her to afternoon service at 
 the parish church a proposition with which I 
 was by no means unwilling to comply. 
 
 On our road thither, we were joined by two 
 young ladies who visited at the Lodge, and to 
 whom Miss Snodgrass introduced me. They 
 were lively, chatty, agreeable women, but ra- 
 ther too much so for Maria, who, as I have 
 before observed, was predisposed to sanctity and 
 sentiment, and to whose delicate nerves any 
 thing like vivacity, especially from the youth- 
 ful and good-looking, gave a shock like a gal- 
 vanic battery. 
 
 The service concluded, our party took leave 
 of each other at the church-door, and Miss 
 Snodgrass and myself returned to the Lodge, by 
 what she called " a short cut" across the fields. 
 
 Our conversation turned of course on the
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 199 
 
 sermon we had just heard. " Well, what do 
 you think of our minister ?'' inquired the lady, 
 "he is a great favourite with papa; but, 
 for my own part, I cannot say I like him." 
 
 The secret of this dislike was, that the Rev. 
 Mr. Jenkins was old, ugly, and had lost half his 
 teeth. 
 
 " If you wish to hear an eloquent preacher," 
 resumed Miss Snodgrass, " you should accom- 
 pany me on Wednesday evening to the Meeting 
 house in Pump Street. The Rev. Mr. Cant, 
 who officiates there, has the gift of tongues 
 to a greater degree than any minister I ever 
 heard. 1 ' 
 
 " Is he married ?"" 
 
 " Married !" replied Miss Snodgrass, hastily, 
 " Oh, dear, no ; his only bride is his church, 
 and it is delightful to hear him lecture on this 
 subject. His feelings rise so naturally from his 
 heart, his language is so appropriate, and his 
 voice and manner so persuasive, that I always 
 feel myself a better Christian after "
 
 200 SORROWS OF 
 
 " That is impossible, Madam, 11 said I, gal- 
 lantly interrupting her ; " perfection cannot be 
 improved !" 
 
 " Ah ! you gentlemen are such flatterers. 
 However, whatever may be my defects, want of 
 charity, I trust, is not among the number. 
 By-the-by, Mr. CTBlarney, what do you think 
 of the two Miss Thompsons, who left us just 
 now ? They are great admirers of Mr. Cant ; 
 but their mode of shewing it is so bold and 
 undisguised, that I am sure it must give pain 
 to a delicate mind like his." 
 
 " Unquestionably it must ; but indeed the 
 Miss Thompsons, from the little I have seen of 
 them, are just what "" 
 
 " Hush ! I will not hear you say a word 
 against them. As for Harriette, though she is 
 decidedly not handsome, yet I can assure you 
 she is uncommonly amiable. Emily, too, is full 
 of vivacity, and except that she dresses rather too 
 much like a girl of sixteen, has a thousand good 
 qualities."
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN". 201 
 
 " Heaven knows she has need of them ! for both 
 in face and figure, the poor young lady "" 
 
 " Young, did you say ? You would be sur- 
 prised if I were to tell you dear Emily's age. 
 But no, I will not be uncharitable enough to 
 betray her secret." 
 
 " Noble sentiments ! Ah ! Miss Snodgrass, 
 an enlarged mind like yours can afford to be 
 indulgent to " 
 
 " Oh, fie ! Mr. CTBlarney ; not a word 
 against my Emily, I shall really be quite of- 
 fended if you go on. If she do affect that dan- 
 gerous character, a wit, it is not for us to 
 condemn. But to turn to a more pleasing 
 theme. I have seldom read prettier lines than 
 those which you were kind enough to contribute 
 to my Album (I had returned the book the 
 day preceding with some stanzas which I had 
 copied from an old pocket-book, entitled, ' Per- 
 fection, a Sketch from Life 1 ) I assure you, 
 Mamma considers them quite the gem of the 
 
 K3
 
 202 SORROWS OF 
 
 volume. Are they really a sketch from life, 
 Mr. O'Blarney ?" 
 
 " Wholly so. The original is " 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Yourself!" 
 
 " Oh, flatterer !" simpered the lady, patting 
 my arm coquettishly with her hand. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Snodgrass, you indeed are the 
 original, and would that I had the descriptive 
 powers of a Thomson to portray that indefi- 
 nable grace of manner that richly cultivated 
 mind that classic outline efface " 
 
 " Is Thomson one of your favourite poets ?" 
 interrupted Miss Snodgrass, averting her head, 
 so that I might see it in full profile. 
 
 " He is indeed." 
 
 " I am delighted to hear you say so ; for his 
 Seasons have long been the companion of my 
 solitary walks/' 1 
 
 " Of course, then, you remember his divine 
 sketch of Musidora ?" 
 
 " Perfectly."
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 203 
 
 " Ah, Miss Snodgrass, despite what has 
 been so often said and sung to the disparage- 
 ment of our sex, how much easier is it to meet 
 with a Damon than a Musidora ! Real life will 
 often supply us with the former ; indeed at 
 times, in moments of weakness, I have been 
 half tempted to persuade myself that in the im- 
 passioned, and still more in the disinterested, 
 
 nature of Damon, my own character was but 
 
 how am I betraying myself ! Ten thousand 
 pardons, Miss Snodgrass, but really feeling is 
 such an egotist ! As for Musidora," I added, 
 striking into a more playful mood, " I am far 
 too much a man of the world to venture on the 
 hazardous task of praising one accomplished 
 woman in presence of another, 1 ' and I bowed 
 with inexpressible grace. 
 
 We had by this time reached the gates of the 
 Lodge, when the fair Maria proposed, as there 
 was just time before dinner, that we should 
 take a stroll across the lawn towards the sum- 
 mer-house. To this I readily assented, and we
 
 204 SORROWS OF 
 
 crossed over to the arbour, which was built in 
 the simplest form possible ; contained one small 
 bench and table, and was thickly overgrown 
 with parasitic shrubs. 
 
 " Here," said Miss Snodgrass pensively, 
 " while the weather permits, I pass hours in 
 company with Cowper, Grahame, or Thomson. 
 The spot though retired is far from gloomy, 
 for the copse behind us is full of music, and in 
 the long summer twilights, Philomel " 
 
 " Oh, don't say a word in praise of the 
 nightingale, Miss Snodgrass; it is a distrust- 
 ful, querulous bird, and always lives and sings 
 alone. Trust me, there is no true enjoyment 
 but in union. You remember I dare say to 
 return once again to our favourite poet 
 Thomson's exquisite picture of domestic bliss, 
 especially that passage which relates to what 
 the divine bard calls 'an elegant sufficiency/ 
 How often have I thought that where impas- 
 sioned love but I am sure I must be wearying 
 you "
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 205 
 
 " Not at all ; I am never tired of listening to 
 the praises of my favourite minstrel." 
 
 " Well then, often and often have I thought 
 that where love such as Thomson portrays, 
 goes hand in hand with ' an elegant sufficiency,' 
 the union must realize all that man or woman 
 ever yet conceived of happiness. Oh, the perfect 
 bliss where two fond hearts blend together as 
 one where the husband's smile reflects its 
 happy sunshine on the countenance of the wife 
 where if the one is sad, the other cannot 
 choose but droop also where the only struggle 
 between them is as to which shall evince the 
 fullest and most entire affection while Time, as 
 he rolls over the heads of both, must content 
 himself with mellowing what he feels he cannot 
 destroy ! Would to God that such a lot were 
 mine ! But it is not to the cold, heartless 
 world, that feelings like these are to be 
 breathed ; but if I may be permitted to use 
 such a term in the presence of a congenial 
 spirit, when the scene the hour prompt alike
 
 206 SORROWS OF 
 
 to candour and feeling then indeed they may 
 with some propriety be breathed , and possibly 
 even forgiven," and I concluded in a low, sup- 
 pressed whisper. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. CTBlarney T 
 
 " Ah, Miss Snodgrass !" 
 
 " Pray forgive my weakness," interrupted 
 the susceptible lady, averting her head, " but 
 indeed, indeed, your touching picture of do- 
 mestic but I am so silly ! What must you think 
 of me ?" she added with a faint smile. 
 
 " Forgive, madam ! Nay, it is I who should 
 ask forgiveness ! I who have drawn tears from 
 those lovely eyes ! I who, agitated and wholly 
 overpowered by a passion, pure fervent dis- 
 interested as ever " 
 
 " For God's sake, Mr. O'Blarney, be com- 
 posed. I must not dare not hear this." 
 
 " Say then that I am forgiven." 
 
 " Hush, I implore you, hush ! I hear a 
 footstep. - Oh that horrid John !" 
 
 This was said in allusion to the footman,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 207 
 
 whom we now saw advancing towards us. 
 " One word but one little word," I continued, 
 " and I release you from my frantic persecu- 
 tion. Say, dearest Maria, idol of this devoted 
 heart, say but that you " 
 
 " Oh, I know not ask papa." 
 
 What acuteness women have in all matters 
 relating to matrimony ! They absolutely snuff 
 an offer, as Job's war-horse snuffed the battle, 
 " afar off." However, I had no time to mo- 
 ralize, for just as I had imprinted a sonorous, 
 Milesian kiss on the lady's half -averted lips, 
 the footman approached with a message from 
 Mrs. Snodgrass, that the first bell was just 
 about to ring for dinner.
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER. XX. 
 
 A DISAPPOINTED CANDIDATE. 
 
 LATE on the fourth day, to the consternation 
 of the independent party, the election termi- 
 nated in favour of Lord George by a meagre 
 majority of twelve ! This result was clliefly 
 owing to the manoeuvres of the Corporation, 
 most of whom were Tories, and though with 
 admirable tact they kept their opinions to them- 
 selves till the proper season came for putting 
 them forth looked on the apostacy of one of 
 their fraternity as a sort of reflection on the 
 whole body. Even Alderman Slyboots " un- 
 kindest cut of all !" was found among the 
 number of Mr. Snodgrass's opponents, and gave 
 a plumper (like himself) to Lord George.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 209 
 
 This defeat was a grievous blow to my in- 
 terests. It at once demolished all the fine 
 castles which for weeks past I had been erecting 
 in the air, for by the aid of the Alderman's in- 
 fluence I had hoped not only to establish myself 
 among the klite of Humbug, but perad venture 
 even to become nearly connected with his 
 family. 
 
 But if my disappointment was great, far 
 greater was the Alderman's. On him the disas- 
 trous tidings burst like a thunder-clap. Never 
 once had the possibility of a defeat entered into 
 his calculations, so effectually had his pride 
 his ambition and above all, his vanity, con- 
 spired to mislead his judgment, and with such 
 persevering flattery had I kept alive his wildest 
 fantasies. He had entered upon the election, 
 not coolly and deliberately like a man of the 
 world, but with all the red-hot enthusiasm of a 
 school-boy ; for the time being it was his one 
 engrossing hobby ; and for me, as the author of 
 all his agreeable self-delusion, he felt of course,
 
 210 SORROWS OF 
 
 while it lasted, the utmost respect and friend- 
 ship. 
 
 But the spell of my influence was now broken, 
 and just in proportion as I had risen, did I fall 
 in the Alderman's estimation. For one whole 
 week he confined himself to the retirement of 
 Calico Lodge, admitting no one to his presence 
 but an attorney, whom he engaged to prosecute 
 minute inquiries into the way in which I had 
 disposed of certain electioneering sums entrusted 
 to my superintendence, his suspicions being 
 roused by the singular circumstance of the 
 election having been lost by the very same 
 number of votes which he had supplied me with 
 funds to purchase ! 
 
 The result of these inquiries was, I soon 
 found out, -unsatisfactory ; for when I ventured, 
 a few days after the election, to send in my card, 
 I was informed that my presence at the Lodge 
 was no longer desirable. 
 
 A man of more brass than I can possibly 
 pretend to, would have insisted at once on being
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 211 
 
 confronted with the Alderman and his attorney ; 
 but my disastrous diffidence in this, as in every 
 other instance, got the better of me ; I ima- 
 gined, too, that by remaining quiet for a time, 
 the storm would blow over, and Mr. Snodgrass 
 be brought to regard my conduct with a more 
 unprejudiced eye, especially as I had every 
 reason to believe I should find a warm advocate 
 in his eldest daughter ; so I allowed the golden 
 moment to escape, and the sand in the hour- 
 glass to run out, till it became almost too late 
 to retrieve myself. 
 
 At length stung into resolution by the slan- 
 derous whispers that began to gain ground in 
 the borough, I determined, coute qui coute, on 
 obtaining an interview with the Alderman, which 
 with some difficulty, after repeated applications, 
 I was lucky enough to accomplish. 
 
 Just as I was turning an angle of the road 
 that led sharp round to the gates of the Lodge, 
 I suddenly encountered Mrs. Snodgrass on her 
 way on foot to Humbug. The good lady re-
 
 212 SORROWS OF 
 
 cognized me in an instant, but looked shy, em- 
 barrassed, and more inclined to retrogade than 
 advance ; on which with as much easy assurance 
 as a man of my peculiar temperament could 
 muster, I hastened forward to accost her ; and 
 after alluding delicately and feelingly to the 
 unfortunate prejudice which I understood her 
 husband had of late been persuaded to entertain 
 against me, I observed that I was now, by his 
 express desire, on my way to pay him a visit, 
 when I had no doubt I should be able to ex- 
 plain every thing.to his perfect satisfaction. 
 
 The mention of the word " visit" convinced 
 the good-natured dame that the quarrel was 
 about to be made up between her husband and 
 myself, and in an instant she became as friendly 
 and communicative as ever. 
 
 " Well," she exclaimed, " I always said 
 every thing would be cleared up, though, to 
 tell you the truth, Mr.O'Blarney, the Alderman 
 has been in a sad way about you. Some one 
 has put it into his head that you've been
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 213 
 
 making a cat's-paw of him, though as I told 
 him at the time * My dear Mr. S.,' said I, 
 ' what matters it what people say ? they will 
 talk, you know ; so let "em, and when theyVe 
 tired, they'll hold their tongues.' Those were 
 the very words I used, Mr. O 'Blarney, for I 
 knew you must have a good heart by your 
 taking so much notice of Sam.'" 1 
 
 " Ah, my little playfellow, Sammy !" said I 
 with affectionate vivacity, ' how is the dear 
 little fellow ? It may be a weakness, Mrs. Snod- 
 grass, but I never see children without feeling 
 my heart warm towards them, as if they were 
 my own. And your fair daughters are they 
 too in good health ?" 
 
 The old lady shook her head." Very odd, 
 Mr. CTBlarney, but Maria takes the loss of 
 the election more to heart than even Mr. S. ! 
 I can't conceive what's come to the girl. She 
 says nothing except that she is resigned to the 
 visitation, and that if it be the will of God she 
 must submit. But she was always of a serious
 
 214 SORROWS OF 
 
 turn, you know. I'm sure what with one thing 
 and what with another, I have not a moment's 
 peace. There's Mr. S., he does nothing but 
 sit and sulk from morning till night ; I'm 
 afraid he's in a delicate way, for he eats a mere 
 nothing to sinnify. In short, Mr. O'Blarney, 
 we're all in a peck of troubles. However, I'm 
 glad your going to clear up matters with the 
 Alderman. I always said you could if you 
 would, and perhaps if you find him out of 
 humour, you'll just give into him a bit; he 
 means well, though he's a little hasty. I'm sure 
 if my good word's of any service, you're welcome 
 to it, for I never will believe any harm of a 
 man who is fond of children, and so I told 
 the Alderman last night, when he was snub- 
 bing you before Maria." 
 
 " And did Miss Snodgrass not condescend 
 to say one little word in my behalf?" 
 
 " She ! Lord bless you, she's grown as mute 
 as a fish ! Between you and me, Mr. O'Blar- 
 ney" and here the good lady put on an air of
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 215 
 
 uncommon slyness " I'm afraid the girl's had 
 a Call. Sad business ! Mr. S. hates the Me- 
 thodists. He says they're enemies to the con- 
 stitution and so they are, for this Cant has 
 done a deal of harm to Maria. She's not half 
 the girl she was." 
 
 " I'm glad to see that you at least bear up 
 against these afflictions, Mrs. Snodgrass." 
 
 " Who, I ? Oh, I've lots of trouble too, 
 only I haven't time to be down-hearted. Who 
 would look after the servants, if I were to 
 lay up ? But I must not stay gossiping, so 
 good bye, Mr. O'Blarney ; I wish you success 
 with Mr. S. ; but, pray, don't take him up 
 too short, if he should be a little hot at first. 
 It's merely a way he's got ; my brother, the 
 barrister, has just the same ;" and without al- 
 lowing herself time to complete the sentence, 
 the old lady vanished at a brisk pace round the 
 corner. 
 
 Far different was my interview with the Al- 
 derman. Six publicans, on whose faces tribu-
 
 216 SORKOWS OF 
 
 lation was written at full length and in the 
 clearest type, were just quitting the house as I 
 reached the hall-door a circumstance which, 
 taken in connexion with the sinister glances of 
 the footman, and the suggestions of Mrs. Snod- 
 grass, convinced me that I should have need of 
 all my temper and address. 
 
 No sooner had I announced my name, than 
 the servant showed me into a small parlour, 
 while he went and informed his master of my 
 arrival ; and returned almost immediately with 
 a bluff answer (which lost nothing of its rude- 
 ness by his mode of delivery), to the effect that 
 I must wait awhile, for the Alderman was en- 
 gaged. 
 
 For full an hour I remained in this state 
 of suspense, till at length, when tired of waiting, 
 I was making up my mind to depart, the study, 
 bell rung, and I heard the Alderman's surly 
 voice in the passage, desiring the footman to 
 * send in that fellow." 
 
 On entering the study, Mr. Snodgrass, who
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 was seated at the table, neither looked up nor 
 rose to meet me, but kept his eyes rivetted on 
 the table. His personal appearance was by no 
 means improved by his late disappointment. His 
 face was yellow as a crocus ; a beard of at least 
 two days' growth threw his chin into, what 
 artists would call, a fine yhadow ; and he perpe- 
 tually shifted his position, like a man in a high 
 state of nervous excitement. I could not but 
 feel for his situation, and was just beginning to 
 express my regret at finding him so much of an 
 invalid, when he interrupted me fiercely with, 
 114 Aye, you may well condole with me ; none 
 but an egregious blockhead would have listened 
 for an instant to such an Irish adventurer !" 
 
 I made allowances for this burst, so calmly 
 replied, " Mr. Snodgrass, you do me injustice. 
 I am no adventurer, Sir, but a man who, wish- 
 ing well to the cause of good government, has 
 endeavoured to ; procure for that cause the 
 ablest advocate. It was on this principle, and 
 this only, that I sought to interest you in behalf 
 
 VOL. i L
 
 .218 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 of the independent party. I was prepared for 
 a more difficult task than I encountered, for 
 you were already half a Liberal when I stepped 
 in to confirm your faith." 
 
 The Alderman here started from his seat, and 
 his eye happening to fall on a volume of Han- 
 sard's Parliamentary Debates, which lay with 
 a paper-cutter in the leaves on the table, he 
 flung it with violence on the floor, exclaiming 
 as he resumed his chair, " who placed this 
 book here? You're all leagued to drive me 
 mad ;" then, as if recollecting himself, he added, 
 " what is this matter that you say you have to 
 explain ? Tell it at once, and be off.' 1 
 
 " Language like this, Mr. Snodgrass, scarce- 
 ly deserves a reply. However, to show you 
 that I am not vindictive, and can make every 
 allowance for your situation " 
 
 " My situation ! what do you mean by that, 
 Sir? Think of your own. Yet what, after all, 
 is yours compared to mine ? I have lost every 
 thing. For the money I care nothing ; it is
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 219 
 
 gone, and there's an end of it ; but where is my 
 standing with the Corporation ; where my bo- 
 rough influence ; where my character for con- 
 sistency ?" 
 
 " Have courage, Sir, and all will yet be well." 
 The Alderman took no heed of my interrup- 
 tion, but, as if unconscious he was overheard, 
 continued, ." To be bamboozled lampooned 
 paragraphed and held up to ridicule by both 
 parties ; a man of my years and station, to be 
 treatedin this manner, and all through the 
 trickery of an obscure Irish adventurer by 
 
 Gcd 'tis not to be Ah, what you're there 
 
 still, Sir, laughing, no doubt, in your sleeve at 
 my egregious folly. 1 " 
 
 " Folly, Mr. Snodgrass !" 
 " Well, wisdom then, if you like it better, 
 for wise indeed I have shown myself to be your 
 dupe ! You knew from the first I had no 
 chance. But what did that matter, so long as 
 you could feather your own nest r But proceed 
 with your story, Sir." 
 
 L 2
 
 220 
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 " It is very plain and simple. In one word, 
 Mr. Snodgrass (for I perceive you are not in a 
 fit state calmly to consider the details of my 
 proposition), I have every reason to believe that 
 Lord George's election has been carried solely 
 by means of the most notorious bribery and 
 corruption ; and that if you think fit to petition 
 against his return, there can be no doubt that 
 the House will decide in your favour. To be 
 sure, we are far from immaculate ourselves ; but 
 fortunately our manoeuvres have been managed 
 with skill and secresy, whereas Lord George's 
 party have been openly boasting of theirs." 
 
 " Well, Sir, and what then ?" 
 
 " Merely this, that it remains with yourself 
 to decide whether you will choose to affix M.P. 
 to your name or not. Your chance is, I am 
 persuaded, better than ever ; for the House en- 
 tertains such a well-bred horror of bribery, that 
 the mere charge is almost enough to ensure 
 
 !%h 
 
 the condemnation of the luckless wight against 
 
 'V 
 
 whom it is brought."
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 221 
 
 " Indeed !" said the Alderman, drawling out 
 the word, as if he were half-asleep ; " and pray, 
 Sir, for your valuable assistance in this matter, 
 what further sums may be necessary ? Will 
 another hundred pounds satisfy you ?" 
 
 " I understand your sneer, and, as an ho- 
 nest man, meet it with the contempt it de- 
 serves." 
 
 " What, and have you the impudence to call 
 yourself an honest man ? Honest, forsooth ! 
 Ha ! ha !" and the old savage grinned in my 
 face like a hyaena. 
 
 This stung me to the quick ; 4< Oh, Mr. 
 Snodgrass, Mr. Snodgrass." said I for I could 
 not but perceive that all hope of reconciliation 
 was at an end "it grieves me to the soul to see 
 such powers of sarcasm and eloquence as you 
 possess, thrown away on an obscure individual 
 like myself. Reserve it, I beseech you, for those 
 apostate Ministers whose reduction of the Five 
 per Cents. " 
 
 These words wrought quite a talismanic
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 effect on the Alderman. "Quit the room, Sir, 1 
 said he, and then jerking the bell-rope with 
 such fury that the handle came off in his hand, 
 " John," he added, as the servant entered the 
 room, " turn this fellow out of the house, and 
 dy'e hear, take care that he never shows his 
 face here again." 
 
 Such language was beyond all bearing. Ne- 
 vertheless, though I resolved the Alderman 
 should smart for it, I would not lose my tem- 
 per, but in the mildest possible terms continued, 
 " With respect to this election, Mr. Snodgrass, 
 which seems to have disturbed that enviable 
 and serene sagacity, which all who know you 
 appreciate, and none more highly than myself, 
 there is yet one way left by which I think you 
 may manage to disencumber yourself of the 
 pecuniary obligations attending it." 
 
 In an instant the Alderman was all attention, 
 and making a sign to the servant who had 
 hitherto been lingering near the door, to quit 
 the room, said, " free myself from these elec-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 223 
 
 tion debts, did you say? Where when 
 how, explain yourself, my excellent young 
 friend. I am hasty, it is true, but always open 
 to conviction." 
 
 " Oh, my plan is scarcely worth mentioning; 
 it merely regards pecuniary matters, which, as 
 you observed just now, weigh nothing in your 
 estimation compared with the loss of your cha- 
 racter for consistency." 
 
 " True, I did say so, nevertheless " 
 
 ** You are anxious to hear it. Be it so, 
 though I am by no means sanguine that a per- 
 son of your distinction will adopt it. However, 
 such as it is, it is at your service. You may 
 have heard, Sir, in the course of your long 
 
 commercial experience " said I, pausing 
 
 between each word, " of " 
 
 " Yes, yes, very good, go on." 
 
 " Of an act entitled the Insolvent 
 Debtor's Act. It is one of singular " 
 
 "Knave! swindler! rascal! Is it thus 
 you add insult to injury ?"
 
 224 SORROWS OF 
 
 " You complain of your debts. I propose to 
 you a remedy. Am I to be blamed for 
 thisr" 
 
 " How dare you, fellow, throw out such 
 hints to a man of my character ?" 
 
 "Character, Mr. Snodgrass ? Why, your- 
 self assured me just now that you had none 
 left, and as a gentleman, I felt bound to believe 
 
 you 
 
 " Quit the room instantly, Sir. I dis- 
 grace myself by holding conversation with 
 you." 
 
 " There is no need of bluster, Mr. Snod- 
 grass," said I, moving with unruffled dignity 
 to the door; " I quit your house far more 
 readily than I entered it, fully convinced that 
 when you have regained your senses, you will 
 do me that justice which your blind passion 
 just now withholds. Infatuated old man ! 
 where now is that keen political foresight 
 which, detecting at one glance, as it were, the 
 great public embarrassments that must ensue
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 from the reduction of the Five per Cents^ 
 nobly " 
 
 " The Five per Cents again ! By God, 
 I'll * 
 
 Just at this instant a gaunt, sulky publican 
 forced his way into the room, and after stam- 
 mering out one or two awkward words of con- 
 dolence, approached Mr. Snodgrass, and thrust- 
 ing forward something that bore the semblance 
 of a bill, was just commencing with " touching 
 this little account, "when the Alderman snatched 
 the paper from the dun's talons, and throwing 
 it to me, exclaimed, " this, fellow, is your 
 affair, not mine. You have had the money, and 
 must and shall be responsible." 
 
 " Responsible ! And for your debts too ! 
 No, no, Mr. Snodgrass, I have no objection to 
 be just, but I really cannot afford to be ge- 
 nerous." 
 
 " God of heaven, this impudence surpasses 
 belief ! What, have you not had my cheques 
 for the tavern bills, as well as for those twelve 
 
 L3
 
 226 SORROWS OF 
 
 voters, to not one of whom you ever paid a six- 
 pence ? Nay more, Sir, have you not, through- 
 out the whole business, been bent on my ruin ? 
 Yes, Sir, my ruin, I say." 
 
 " Not I, Mr. Snodgrass, but the Five per 
 Cents, have been your ruin." 
 
 " D n the Five per Cents. /" thundered 
 the Alderman, " what's that to the purpose, 
 you 
 
 " Aye, what indeed ?" interrupted the pub- 
 lican, who began to tremble for his account : 
 " I shall look to you for payment, Mr. Snod- 
 grass. I know nothink of this here gemman. 
 These are hard times, Mr. S., and I mean no 
 offence, but justice is justice and law's law, 
 Sir ; and so, Sir," putting on his hat with a ve- 
 hement thump on the crown, " I wish you 
 good morning, Sir." 
 
 " And I shall follow this worthy man's ex- 
 ample. Possibly, Mr. Snodgrass, you and I 
 may never meet again ; I avail myself, there- 
 fore, of this opportunity to declare that, des-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 pile your conduct towards me, which I must 
 say has been marked by flagrant ingratitude, 
 from my soul I pity and forgive you ;" and 
 I stalked in sullen majesty from the apart- 
 ment.
 
 228 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A DISAPPOINTED CANDIDATE'S REVENGE. 
 
 HAVING rarely known a contested election 
 terminate without a quarrel among the losing 
 parties, I was not in the slightest degree sur- 
 prised at the Alderman's indignation ; though I 
 had no idea he would have carried it to the ex- 
 treme length of holding me publicly forth as an 
 adventurer and a swindler. True, certain sums 
 entrusted by him to me for distribution, did 
 not exactly reach their destination ; but surely 
 this did not justify the atrocious placards and 
 paragraphs that now daily appeared against 
 me ! The truth is, that in the hurry and 
 bustle necessarily attendant on a contested 
 election, the money had been overlooked ; but
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 229 
 
 I put it to any man of feeling and delicacy, 
 whether, under the peculiar circumstances of 
 the case, such an act of forgetfulness was not 
 perfectly natural ; or if an error, whether it 
 were not one of omission, rather than of com- 
 mission. 
 
 But I have a better plea to urge than that of 
 mere omission. As principal agent for Mr. 
 Snodgrass, it was of course necessary that I 
 should make a parade of superior respectability 
 in fact, keep all but open house. Now this 
 could not be done on the weekly pittance I re- 
 ceived from the '' Flying Reporter,"" and I was 
 compelled in consequence to appropriate a por- 
 tion of the sums received from the Alderman ; 
 and pray, to what more fitting or laudable pur- 
 pose, could I devote his money, than to secure 
 the interests of his election ? For myself in- 
 dividually, I neither asked nor received one 
 farthing for my labours ; they were undertaken 
 solely with reference to the public good ; and 
 the reward I met with for such heroic disin-
 
 230 SORROWS OF 
 
 terestedness was, first, to be denounced as a 
 swindler ; secondly, to be dismissed from my 
 editorial functions ! 
 
 In this predicament, with a name tainted 
 throughout Humbug, and but one paltry hun- 
 dred pounds left in my exchequer, I felt I had 
 no alternative but to appeal once more to the 
 sense and justice of Mr. Snodgrass. Accord- 
 ingly, after much deliberation and blotting of 
 paper, I dispatched an argumentative and pa- 
 thetic latter to the Lodge, to which no reply 
 being vouchsafed, I allowed a week to elapse , 
 and then sat down and penned a second to the 
 following effect : 
 
 " Wellington Place, Humbug, 1821. 
 " SIR: 
 
 " The pertinacity with which you persist in 
 blasting the character and fortunes of one who 
 never injured you, is, I hope and believe, with- 
 out parallel in the annals of human depravity. 
 " In justification of such conduct, you allege
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 231 
 
 that I have appropriated to my own use a con- 
 siderable portion of certain sums which you had 
 entrusted to me for electioneering expenses. 
 To this vague charge I have but one reply to 
 make. Produce your vouchers (I knew he 
 could not), or else confess that you have wan- 
 tonly slandered a name which the breath of 
 calumny has never yet dared to taint. 
 
 " One or other of these alternatives I feel 
 that I have a right to insist on. Should neither 
 be acceded to, then, as a matter of course, I 
 shall demand that satisfaction which one gentle- 
 man never withholds from another whom he has 
 aggrieved. 
 
 " You have been pleased, I perceive, in one 
 of your numerous placards, to allude in terms 
 far from flattering to what you call, my ' im- 
 measurable impudence.' Ah, Sir ! did you 
 but know me as I feel that I deserve to be 
 known, you would be convinced that if there be 
 one infirmity beyond another which I inherit 
 from a long line of ancestors, it is an extreme
 
 232 SORROWS OF 
 
 coyness of disposition a shrinking sensitiveness 
 which has ever stood between me and good for- 
 tune. Had it not been for this distressing 
 affliction, I should, long ere now, have done 
 myself the honour of proposing for the hand of 
 your eldest daughter, who has already conde- 
 scended to evince an interest in my behalf, 
 which needed but time and the sanction of her 
 respected parents to ripen into a tenderer senti- 
 ment. 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 
 " Yours, &c. 
 
 "TERENCE FELIX CTBLARNEY." 
 ' To Miles Snodgrass, Esq." 
 
 " P.S. If you could, with perfect convenience 
 to yourself, accommodate me with the loan of 
 three hundred pounds, till my father's agent 
 remits me my usual half-yearly allowance, I 
 shall esteem it an act of courtesy mor<? than 
 sufficient to atone for that inexplicable conduct 
 which has so deeply wounded my sensibilities. "
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 233 
 
 This modest missive, strange to say, shared 
 the fate of the former, on which I despatched a 
 third, wherein I specially requested that Mr. 
 Snodgrass would " do me the favour to consi- 
 der himself horsewhipped ;" and not satisfied 
 with this revenge, wrote and printed for general 
 distribution, a most combustible pamphlet, in 
 which, after defending my own conduct during 
 the election, I attacked the public and private 
 character of the Alderman ; branded him as an 
 apostate a liar a coward and in short, 
 laid about me with such zeal, that Mr. Snod- 
 grass, stung to the quick, commissioned his at- 
 torney to enter an action against me for libel. 
 
 This was the very thing I most desired, for 
 it not only afforded me an opportunity of pub- 
 licly vindicating my character ; but also of 
 mixing up my case with the great question of 
 the liberty of the Press. 
 
 But let no man trust to his innocence for 
 acquittal by a British jury. *Law is a game of 
 hazard, where luck decides every thing. Within
 
 234 SORROWS OF 
 
 a fortnight from the publication of my pam- 
 phlet, the Assizes took place, and among the 
 trials which engrossed public attention, was that 
 of " Snodgrass v. CVBlarney," in which, after 
 the plaintiff's counsel had inveighed elaborately 
 against the licentiousness of the Press, and the 
 defendant's had insisted, with equal pertinacity, 
 on its perfect freedom as the " Palladium of 
 the British Constitution" both, in the fervour 
 of their eloquence, losing sight of the main 
 features of the case the jury brought in a ver- 
 dict of guilty ; and I was sentenced to six 
 months 1 imprisonment, and a fine, which I had 
 no earthly chance of ever being able to liqui- 
 date. 

 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 235 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 PRISON ASSOCIATES. 
 
 WHAT a change had the last few days 
 wrought in my condition ! But one short month 
 before, I was in no inconsiderable repute in 
 Humbug. I was now the proscribed inmate of 
 a county jail. My position was indeed a hope- 
 less one, and the mean, dark, cheerless apart- 
 ment I inhabited was by no means calculated to 
 raise my spirits. The walls were constantly 
 dripping with wet; the floor was begrimed 
 with dirt ; and the only furniture consisted of a 
 ricketty, wooden chair, and a small deal table, 
 on which lay two or three dogs'-eared tracts. 
 
 " How many last moments," thought I, as for 
 lack of better employment, I turned over the
 
 235 SORROWS OF 
 
 well-thumbed pages, " have been spent in com- 
 munion \\ith these books ! How many hot, scald- 
 ing tears have been dropped on them ! What a 
 tale their very look "tells, of every emotion that 
 can raise or depress humanity ! Repentance has 
 leant on them as her last resting-place on this 
 side eternity ; despair has dashed them from her 
 presence as a curse. They have softened the 
 grim features of death till the spectre wore 
 almost a smile ; they have darkened them till 
 it were madness to look on his frown. Silent 
 but expressive moralists, would that ye could 
 impart your lessons in some more social fashion ! 
 But, alas! ye do so in darkness and in solitude, 
 to the wandering brain and the broken heart 
 that quit ye only for the scaffold." 
 
 My soliloquy was here broken off by the 
 entrance of Mr. Graves the turnkey, who, af- 
 fected by my prompt munificence for I had 
 slipped a guinea into his hand only the day 
 preceding came to propose to me " a turn 1 ' in 
 the court-yard, to which I readily assented.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 237 
 
 I found it filled with prisoners, chiefly of the 
 male sex, some of whom were pacing up and 
 down in groups of twos and threes ; others 
 playing at hustle-cap and chuck-farthing; and 
 others seated on a bench, enjoying the philoso- 
 phical luxury of pipes and tobacco. 
 
 While the turnkey was pointing out to my 
 notice some of the more notorious among them, 
 which he did with an emphasis amounting 
 almost to reverence, we were joined by a grave, 
 stout, formal personage, with an enormous 
 bullet-head, firmly fixed, with little or no in- 
 tervention of neck, between two massive 
 shoulders. 
 
 This stranger, whom I soon discovered to 
 be a piquant mixture of the scamp and the 
 pedant, making me a profound obeisance, while 
 at the same time he eyed me from head to foot 
 with an air of scientific discrimination, expressed 
 his regret at my presence in a place so ill-cal- 
 culated to improve my moral or physical condi- 
 tion. " But, Sir," 11 he added with amazing
 
 238 SORROWS OF 
 
 pomp of manner, " you have the consolation of 
 knowing no matter what be the cause that 
 brought you here that you are, like myself, 
 the victim of destiny. Vice and virtue, Sir, are 
 mere matters of impulse, as I endeavoured to 
 show in a little treatise I lately wrote, entitled 
 4 Death, the fulfilment of Destiny,' for which 
 a man is no more to be blamed or praised, 
 than he is for being short or tall, thin or stout. 
 For my own part I have come to the conclu- 
 sion that, do what we will, neither the best nor 
 worst of us can control our actions, being alike 
 mere spokes in the wheel of fate ; and that the 
 sum and substance of all human wisdom may 
 be comprised in this one sentence what will 
 be, will be." 
 
 " A very sagacious conclusion, Mr. I beg 
 
 your pardon, but may I ask whom I have the 
 honour of addressing ?" I inquired, not a little 
 amused by my new companion's loquacity. 
 
 " Stubbs, Sir Justinian Stubbs, late pro- 
 fessor of languages at the Humbug Charity
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 239 
 
 School a gentleman, and (I trust I may add) 
 a scholar, who, by one of those sudden vicissi- 
 tudes to which the best of us are liable, has 
 been but just subjected to the unchristian per- 
 secution of the pillory. 11 
 
 " Indeed T 
 
 " Yes, Sir, the humble individual before you 
 has ' fretted 1 I would add ' strutted, 1 but the 
 quotation would be inapplicable his ' little 
 hour 1 in that elevated position. 11 
 
 " May I inquire the causeof such an accident? 11 
 
 " Oh, certainly, Sir ; I need have no re- 
 serves with one of your respectability. It was 
 my fate some months since to be detected 
 in certain verbal inaccuracies touching the 
 amount of a few Corporation subscriptions for 
 the Humbug Charity School, and to be pub- 
 licly exhibited, in consequence, to the gaze of 
 the most unpolished rabble I think I ever saw. 11 
 
 " They certainly did let fly uncommon 
 sharp, 11 interposed the turnkey ; " the cabbage- 
 stumps flew like any thing."
 
 240 SORROWS OF 
 
 ** Vulgar beast !" whispered the fatalist. 
 
 " You could scarcely have expected other- 
 wise, Mr. Stubbs;" I replied, " the pillory is 
 no place for the cultivation of the gentilities." 
 
 " Sir, your position is unanswerable. After 
 the most impartial consideration I can give to 
 the subject, I find it impossible to reconcile 
 myself to the idea that it is either an elegant or 
 creditable exhibition. Still, like every thing 
 else, it has its redeeming points. 1 ' 
 
 " How so ?" 
 
 " Why, Sir, if it pander to the malignant 
 tastes of the oppressors, you must at least allow 
 that it teaches the oppressed a lesson of for- 
 bearance ; enables him to put in practice the 
 precepts of philosophy ; to endure adversity 
 with becoming resignation." 
 
 " Sweet are the uses of adversity," I observed. 
 
 " You are right, Sir ; and the poet who 
 broached that wholesome truth, must himself 
 
 have tasted them in the pillory. It is the very 
 
 i 
 
 Paradise of such sweets."
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 241 
 
 " You seem to entertain a very soothing re- 
 collection of them." 
 
 " And why not ? On me, Sir, the pillory 
 had no effect but what was strictly salubrious. 
 Conscious that I was the victim of destiny, I 
 bade a philosophic defiance to the storm that 
 hurtled round me. Besides, I reflected that 
 the pillory was classic ground, and derived in- 
 expressible comfort from the consideration that 
 though I was nearly pelted out of all shape 
 there, I yet had not my ears cropped like 
 that illustrious sage, De Foe. 1 ' 
 
 " Why, no," said I, with an arch smile, *' it 
 is plain they are as long as ever." 
 
 " You're a wag, Sir, I conjecture, and inas- 
 much as a little seasonable facetiousness in no- 
 wise detracts from, but rather gives an agree- 
 able relish to, the grave discourse of wisdom, I 
 partake your mirth. By the way, talking of 
 such trifles the bye-play of the mind, as the 
 learned Helvetius calls them could you oblige 
 me with a shilling ?" 
 
 VOL. i. M
 
 242 SORROWS OF 
 
 The abruptness of this request, following, as 
 it did, on the heels of such high -flown senti- 
 ments, not a little astounded me. However, I 
 acceded to the fatalist's petition, who instantly 
 left me, with a low bow and a profusion of apo- 
 logies. 
 
 When we met again next day in the court- 
 yard, our conversation turned on my late elec- 
 tioneering experiment on Alderman Snodgrass, 
 in which Mr. Stubbs found much food for con- 
 demnation. My resolution to abide the result 
 of the trial especially astonished him. " Doubt- 
 less," said he, " it was an honourable, even an 
 heroic determination, but utterly lost, as you 
 now find to your cost, on an unreflecting age, 
 like the present. You should have quitted 
 Humbug, Sir, the instant your degenerate pa- 
 tron had lost his election. Of what consequence 
 were the opinions of the rabble ? It is the un- 
 erring test of a great mind to treat them with a 
 lofty indifference. Speaking on this point, the 
 learned Helvetius "
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 243 
 
 "I confess my weakness, Mr. Stubbs; but 
 society, you know " 
 
 " Society !"" interrupted that eminent philo- 
 sopher, " talk not to me of society, Sir. It is 
 diseased to the heart's core. There is no moral 
 harmony no nice adjustment of parts no con- 
 sentaneousness as a whole, in the present state 
 of things. What is our social code, but a huge 
 conglomeration of blunders ? Look at me, Sir, 
 I am an instance in point. Why am I here ?" 
 
 " Because you can't get out, I suppose." 
 
 " I am here," resumed the fatalist, " because 
 the mental abstraction necessarily attendant on 
 philosophic pursuits, like mine, rendered me, on 
 a certain occasion, oblivious of worldly discre- 
 tion. Accident was in my case misconstrued 
 into design. Hence the pillory and a year's 
 imprisonment ! But I have one consolation. 
 Jt could not have been otherwise." 
 
 We were here interrupted by the approach 
 of a flippant, light-haired, red-faced young fel- 
 low, who taking a cigar from his mouth, and 
 M 2
 
 244 SORROWS OF 
 
 addressing me with an air of affected courtesy, 
 exclaimed, " Proud to have the honour of your 
 acquaintance, Sir; I presume, like the rest of 
 us, you are the sport of fortune. Singular, how 
 the blind goddess always persecutes the diligent 
 and the deserving ! However, what will be, 
 will be ; a vulgar truism, but not the less valu- 
 able on that account hey, Stubbs ?" 
 
 " Vulgarity," observed the schoolmaster, 
 taking out an iron snuff-box, and offering me a 
 pinch, "is of two kinds, physical and intel- 
 lectual. The physical may be said to consist 
 in a perverse indulgence in such habits as have 
 a tendency to stultify or brutalize the mind. Now 
 smoking is one of these habits ; wherefore " 
 
 " You are out there, Stubbs, quite out," re- 
 plied Wilde (such was the name of my new 
 acquaintance) ; " I am a smoker myself, and 
 have been so for years. Snuff-taking, I grant 
 you, is a vulgar habit. I never snuff." 
 
 " Snuff-taking !" rejoined the philosopher, 
 " nothing can be pronounced vulgar that tends,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 245 
 
 in however humble a degree, to stimulate the 
 faculties of thought, and but I see an old ac- 
 quaintance yonder ; I must go and join her;" 
 and away he posted to recreate his epigastrum 
 with a glass of the best British, or Falernian, as 
 he called it, which an old woman, in a scarlet 
 hood, had just smuggled into the prison. 
 
 No sooner had he quitted us, than Wilde, 
 pointing after him, said, " there goes one of the 
 biggest rogues in all England, who, while he 
 grasps you cordially with one hand, will pick 
 your pocket with the other. He sounded the 
 depths of mine within ten minutes of our first 
 acquaintance, while I was listening to a long 
 story about Helvetius." 
 
 " Bless me !" said I, " I have heard twice of 
 that author already. I ha,d no idea he was such 
 a suspicious character. 1 ' 1 
 
 " Then, Sir, rely on it, you have paid dearly 
 for your knowledge. Stubbs is no advocate for 
 gratuitous instruction."
 
 246 SORROWS OF 
 
 " No," I replied, after a diligent examination 
 of my pockets, " fortunately, all's right. Never- 
 theless, I thank you for your caution ; when I 
 next hear of Helvetius, I will take care it shall 
 be at a respectful distance." 
 
 " I am not unreasonable enough," continued 
 Wilde, " to condemn our friend for wishing to 
 keep his hand in practice ; such a wish is cre- 
 ditable to his ambition as an artist ; but that he 
 should affect the moralist all the while this, 
 Sir, is what enrages me. Confound such cant- 
 ing scoundrels ! Give me the knave who has 
 manliness enough to avow his vocation. I have 
 no notion of a man being above his business. 
 For, after all, Sir, what difference is there be- 
 tween the thief and the conqueror ? Between the 
 plunder of individuals and that of nations? I 
 protest I can see none. But, perhaps, I am 
 partial." 
 
 " The main difference lies in this, that society 
 binds a laurel wreath round the brow of the con-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 247 
 
 queror, while it adj usts a rope to the neck of 
 the thief. I trust, Mr. Wilde, you are in no 
 danger of the latter distinction."" 
 
 " God forbid ! I am, indeed, condemned to 
 undergo excuse my speaking professionally 
 the last penalties of the law for an awkward 
 sort of night blunder, made on the premises of 
 Alderman Square- stern last spring (one is apt to 
 make mistakes in the dark, you know) ; but 
 luckily on my trial a doubtful point arose, 
 which induced the judge to grant me a respite, 
 till he had consulted the whole twelve." 
 
 (t And can you feel at ease while in such a 
 state of suspense ?^ 
 
 "Suspense! Nonsense! My attorney says " 
 
 " Mr. Wilde Mr. Wilde," said I, in a so- 
 lemn but affectionate tone, " the less you have 
 to do with attornies, the better. Rely on it, 
 Sir, they are not safe or creditable associates 
 for a gentleman of your character. But I beg 
 pardon for interrupting you what about your 
 attorney ?"
 
 248 SORROWS OF 
 
 " Why, he assures me that the point in 
 question is all but decided in my favour 
 already." 
 
 " My dear Sir, I am transported to hear 
 it." 
 
 " No personalities, I beg. I hate that word, 
 ' transported ;' 'tis a villanous phrase, and 
 should never be used among decent folks. An- 
 other man, now, would be offended by such an 
 expression ; but I am a citizen of the world, 
 and take things coolly." 
 
 " And the adventures of such a cosmopolite 
 must be well worth hearing. If it be not 
 exacting too much from your politeness, may 
 I beg a sketch of " 
 
 " Oh, certainly, Sir, your request is most 
 flattering. At present, however, I can say no- 
 thing on the subject, for I see Graves yonder 
 preparing to lock up; to-morrow, my history 
 (such as it is) shall be at your service. 1 ' 
 
 Accordingly, on the following day, when we 
 came out for our usual hour's airing, Wilde,
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 249 
 
 true to his promise, seated himself on the stump 
 of an old tree, close under the wall, and gave 
 me the following rambling outline, which I 
 here repeat, pretty nearly as I heard it, of his 
 past life. 
 
 M 3
 
 250 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE SAYINGS AND DOINGS OF MR. JONA- 
 THAN WILDE, THE YOUNGER. 
 
 " I AM a zealous advocate for family pride, 
 which, I think, you will scarcely wonder at, 
 when you hear the name of the individual whom 
 I have the honour to call great-grandfather. 
 By my father's side I can boast no illustrious 
 pedigree ; but my mother was lineally descended 
 from the renowned Jonathan Wilde ; and was 
 the only sister of four brothers, all men of capa- 
 city in their line, but all equally unfortunate. 
 The eldest of these worthies (pardon my pro- 
 lixity, but I love to talk of my ancestors) was 
 transferred from his happy home at White- 
 chapel to Botany Bay ; the second died of a 
 broken heart in Horsemonger-lane ; the third
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 251 
 
 fell a victim to a severe cold, caught while 
 gazing at one of the prettiest prospects in all 
 Berks from a damp pillory ; while the fourth 
 got his head accurately bissected at an Irish 
 wedding. 
 
 " By these successive calamities, added to 
 the premature death of both my parents, I was 
 left with nothing but ten remarkably docile 
 fingers to rely on for support. Luckily, how- 
 ever, there dwelt in my neighbourhood a certain 
 butcher, who observing, what he called, my 
 ' predicament,' took me into his employ as an. er- 
 rand-boy ; and shortly afterwards, fancying that 
 he discovered in me evidences of superior genius, 
 he despatched me to a neighbouring gram- 
 mar-school, where I soon became distinguished 
 by my thirst for letters, inasmuch as I had got 
 the ' Forty Thieves 1 and the ' Newgate Ca- 
 lendar' by heart two works which made a deep 
 impression on my youthful mind. 
 
 " I had remained but two years at school, when 
 I was expelled, together with a lad named Fus-
 
 252 SORROWS OF 
 
 by, for tying crackers to my master's coat- 
 tail. The joke scarcely merited such retribu- 
 tion, so by way of revenge, and also as a pleas- 
 ing memento of my school-boy days, I ab- 
 stracted the pedagogue's watch and seals ; after 
 which I wrote him a courteous but spirited 
 note, wherein I assured him that my mind 
 soared far above the idea of dependence, and 
 that in future I should look on myself as my 
 own master. 
 
 " You will scarcely believe that for this harm- 
 less frolic, I was taken up tried tied to a 
 cart's tail flogged rubbed down with vine- 
 gar put into the black-hole to dry and then 
 imprisoned for three tedious months; at the 
 expiration of which time, finding myself inde- 
 pendent alike of money, prospects, and con- 
 nexions, I was compelled, in self-defence, to 
 commence business as a conveyancer. 
 
 " It was at the Surrey Theatre I linger on 
 the recollection with a pleasing melancholy 
 that I made my first appearance as an artist in
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 253 
 
 this line. The house was crowded, and as good 
 luck would have it, I chanced to stand next 
 an asthmatic old man, to whom I imparted 
 my suspicions of there being thieves in the 
 house, and hastened to prove the fact by de- 
 camping with his snuff-box. 
 
 " This exploit, at once got me into repute 
 among my contemporary artists, and inspired me 
 with such self-confidence, that for upwards of a 
 twelvemonth afterwards I wrought successfully, 
 night and day, at my new vocation ; and one 
 evening, on the steps of the Opera House, had 
 the honour of a personal interview with the 
 Prince Regent." 
 
 " Indeed !" said I, " how came that about ?"" 
 " Why, Sir, in attempting to ease his Royal 
 Highness of a remarkably handsome gold snuff- 
 box, I happened to make a false step and stum- 
 ble up against him, whereupon he turned round 
 with a smile, and made me such a gracious bow, 
 that I have been the most loyal of men ever 
 since. But in politics I was always a Tory,
 
 254 SORROWS OF 
 
 though I cannot say I have fingered so much 
 public money as Lords E or B . However, 
 a man can but do his best. 
 
 " It was at this period of my life that I became 
 acquainted with the immortal Ikey Singleton. 
 We shook hands (strange enough!) in the coat- 
 pockets of a clergyman, who had stuck himself 
 at the back of one of the dress-boxes in Covent- 
 garden, and against whom our professional dex- 
 terity was at one and the same moment employed. 
 Ikey was a great man, Sir ; still I cannot but 
 think he was over-rated. Certes, his mode of 
 effecting transfers was prompt and intelligent ; 
 but it wanted originality. You might know 
 him any where by his style. With his cotem- 
 porary, Slender Billy, it was otherwise. He 
 was all versatility, and had the finest conception 
 of a burglary, of any man I ever met with. 
 
 " But to return from this digression, into 
 which I have been led by my respect for de- 
 parted genius. Scarcely had I achieved notoriety 
 by the felonious capabilities of my fingers, when
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 255 
 
 my mind, fitted for nobler pursuits, began to lan- 
 guish for pre-eminence in the higher branches of 
 the profession. Ah ! Sir, ambition has been my 
 ruin, as it hasbeen that of many a great man before 
 me. On sounding my old school-fellow, Fusby, 
 on the subject, he readily entered into my feel- 
 ings, and agreed to join me in an attempt on 
 a house in Brunswick-square, where I had 
 previously ascertained that a rich old bachelor 
 resided. 
 
 " Punctual to the moment, we proceeded to 
 effect a lodgment in his kitchen ; but unluckily, 
 while we were ascending towards the drawing- 
 room, a stout scullery girl, who,unperceived,had 
 watched our motions, assaulted us both with her 
 fists in so cowardly and unprovoked a manner, 
 that we were compelled to make a precipi- 
 tate retreat. Detection was the inevitable con- 
 sequence. Fusby, however, escaped by turning 
 king's evidence, while I was tried, convicted, 
 and transferred to his Majesty's colony at 
 Botany Bay, where I was immediately placed
 
 256 SORROWS OF 
 
 in the service of a Scotch emigrant, who held 
 vast pasturages in the neighbourhood of Sidney. 
 
 " I cannot say much for the society in this 
 quarter of the globe. Your Australian colonist 
 is, at best, but semi-barbarous, so much so, 
 that whenever I chanced to fall in with a kan- 
 garoo, I invariably made a point of taking off 
 my hat to him, to mark my sense of his superior 
 intelligence and respectability. Conceive the 
 innate vulgarity of a wretch who could think of 
 nothing better for me to do, than associate with 
 his own sheep ! Yet this was my sole occupa- 
 tion. From morning till night did my master 
 compel me to keep company with his Merinos, 
 till at length such is the force of habit I 
 actually began to ; ba-a' in my sleep, as natu- 
 rally as if I had been a ram. 
 
 " For many wearisome months I submitted to 
 this monster's tyranny with the meek resignation 
 of a Christian, but when, not content with making 
 me do duty as a sheep-dog, he set me also to su- 
 perintend the education of his pigs by Jove !
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 I could stand it no longer ; so seizing the first 
 favourable opportunity of flight, I set off for 
 Cape Howe, whence I secretly embarked in a 
 free trader bound for England. 
 
 " The voyage home was long and stormy, and 
 our little vessel went staggering over the 
 Pacific, just as if she were dead drunk. For 
 weeks together I was constantly dripping like 
 a parish pump, and knew not what it was to eat 
 a meal in safety. You see this scar on my left 
 cheek. It was made by a fork, which, taking 
 a slanting direction, one squally day at dinner, 
 when I was attempting to convey a small bit of 
 stale pork to my mouth, ran clean through, 
 and, I fear, has spoiled my beauty for life. 
 But this is a trifle. The worst is to come. 
 
 " Late one night I was roused from an uneasy 
 slumber, by the cry of ' breakers, ahead !"* 
 and, on rushing on deck, found the ship in 
 strong hysterics, kicking and plunging, and 
 groaning, among a cluster of sharp, white, 
 jagged rocks. Ah ! Sir, that was an awful
 
 258 SORROWS OF 
 
 spectacle, worse even than the black cap on a 
 Judged head ! The waves ran mountains high ; 
 and as each fresh one broke over us, our poor 
 little vessel trembled from stem to stern, and 
 finally went to pieces ; while I , after floating 
 about some time on the fragment of a mast, 
 was lifted up by an enormous billow, and 
 hurled far on land in a state of utter insen- 
 sibility. 
 
 " On recovering consciousness, I found myself 
 stretched on a sandy coast, surrounded by a 
 host of peculiarly loquacious savages, who, as I 
 afterwards learned, were discussing the interest- 
 ing point, as to whether or no, they should eat 
 me! Fortunately, the humane interference of one 
 of the chieFs wives I was always a favourite 
 with the ladies saved my life ; and, instead of 
 being cooked myself, I was taken up into the 
 country, and set to cook for others. 
 
 " Folks in England are in the habit of talking 
 of savages, as wholly uncivilized. Never was such 
 arrant presumption ! They defraud bully lie
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 259 
 
 and make war upon each other quite as readily 
 as we do here; and, in point of manual dexterity, 
 might put to shame the best-instructed artist in 
 the metropolis. I assure you, Sir, I felt quite 
 humiliated to think, after all my practice, how 
 much I had still to learn in this respect. 
 
 " You wonder, no doubt, why I quitted such 
 a civilized people. My reason was this. When I 
 had remained with them the best part of a 
 year, I began to acquire such a plump and 
 tempting rotundity, as to excite the Epicurean 
 propensities of the high priest a noted can- 
 nibal and not relishing the idea of being 
 served up, hot and smoking, at one of his dinner 
 parties (for he was remarkably hospitable, and 
 gave capital entertainments) I made no more 
 ado, but hurried off to the sea-coast ; where, a 
 few days afterwards, I was discovered by the 
 crew of a homeward-bound English merchant- 
 man, which had put in there for fresh water, 
 and safely conveyed to Liverpool ; from which
 
 260 SORROWS OF 
 
 place I instantly made the best of my way to the 
 metropolis. 
 
 " Here, for four subsequent years, my profes- 
 sional tact, sharpened by experience, enabled 
 me to live in comfort, if not in affluence. Like 
 my illustrious ancestor, too, I became the cap- 
 tain of as choice a gang of spirits as ever rode 
 a mare foaled of an acorn ; assisted by whom I 
 levied contributions on all classes with an im- 
 partiality which I shall ever reflect on with 
 satisfaction. But where, you will ask, are all 
 these great men now ? Alas ! one languishes 
 in the hulks at Woolwich ; another treads 
 the horrid flats of Australia ; a third takes 
 compulsory exercise at Brixton ; a fourth, 
 but I have no heart to proceed. I must weep 
 awhile. 
 
 " The rest of my tale is brief. My gang dis- 
 persedmy person proscribed my fame blown 
 far and wide I was compelled to quit 
 London and seek some more fitting scene of
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 261 
 
 action. This I fondly hoped I had found in 
 Humbug. But the eye of the law or as our 
 friend Justinian would say, of destiny was on 
 me ; and scarcely had I resumed business, 
 when I was taken up, convicted, and here I 
 am. And thus, Sir, conclude the adventures 
 of the last and least worthy of the Wildes."
 
 262 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE DEATH-WARRANT. 
 
 IN this flippant style, Wilde was in the habit 
 of conversing with me whenever we happened 
 to encounter each other in the court-yard. As 
 I became better acquainted with him, however, 
 I found that he was at best but a lively bore, 
 full of levity which he mistook for wit, and 
 without one atom of real moral or physical 
 fortitude. I was disgusted, besides, with the 
 rhodomontade spirit in which he boasted of his 
 past achievements, just as if, under any circum- 
 stances, they were not to be deeply regretted. 
 Hundreds are scamps from necessity ; but he 
 who is a scamp from choice, is a wretch whom 
 all men are equally interested in persecuting to 
 the death. This is one of those sapient moral
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 263 
 
 saws which I owe to my intercourse with the 
 casuist Justinian, who, whenever we conversed 
 together on the subject of our mutual acquaint- 
 ance, always shook his head, gravely and dis- 
 trustfully, as Socrates may be supposed to have 
 done, when pondering on the irregularities of 
 the young Alcibiades. 
 
 Meanwhile, the time drew on when Wilde's 
 destiny was to be decided, and unknown to 
 himself, I could detect a very visible alteration 
 in his feelings. He began to shrink from the 
 society of his former crony, Justinian, who, 
 like a true Job's comforter, exhorted him to 
 prepare himself for the worst ; and to cling more 
 tenaciously to me, with whom he held repeated 
 discussions on the subject of his chances of ac- 
 quittal ; and though both of us came to the same 
 conclusion, I from good-nature, and he from 
 sheer incapacity to brave the worst ; still it was 
 impossible not to see from his strange, fitful alter- 
 nations of mirth and melancholy, that an uneasy 
 something was perpetually hanging about him.
 
 264 SORROWS OF 
 
 One night, by permission of the turnkey, and 
 at Wilde's earnest intercession, I accompanied 
 him to his cell. He was in rather more equable 
 spirits than usual, abounding in anecdotes 
 of his past life, and speculations as to his future 
 course of conduct. He was tired, he said, of 
 his old habits, and had serious thoughts, if only 
 for the novelty of the thing, of turning over a 
 new leaf. I approved highly of his project, 
 and was dwelling on its advantages, when sud- 
 denly, " Hark !" exclaimed the poor fellow, 
 turning on the instant as white as a corpse, " I 
 hear a footstep. 1 ' 
 
 " Nonsense," I replied, " 'tis mere fancy ; or, 
 perhaps, they're locking up for the night." 
 
 But the quick instinct of fear was correct ; 
 for while I was yet speaking, we heard a heavy, 
 measured tread, accompanied by the clanking 
 of keys, proceeding along the passage. An in- 
 stant, and the step was at the door. 
 
 " It is the turnkey," said Wilde, fetching up 
 a breath from the very bottom of his heart, and as
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 265 
 
 he spoke, the door opened, and in walked that 
 important official with a written paper in his 
 hand. 
 
 I looked anxiously into his face, and saw at 
 once that there was no hope. Wilde, too, 
 caught the glance, but instantly closed his eyes, 
 and waived off the man with an impetuous 
 movement of his hand. 
 
 " Jonathan Wilde, 1 ' commenced the turnkey, 
 clearing his throat with a few solemn hems, 
 " it is my painful duty "" 
 
 " Not a word I will not hear a word. It 
 is false as hell, and you know it. Come, come, 
 Mr. Graves, confess now you are joking," and 
 the poor wretch clutched the turnkey by the 
 arm like a madman. 
 
 But the man only shook his head. 
 
 " Liar ! It is it must be false. Oh ! Mr. 
 Graves, my best my only friend, as you hope 
 for mercy hereafter as you would not have the 
 curse of a dying man on your "" Then ab- 
 
 VOL. i. N
 
 266 SORROWS OF 
 
 ruptly breaking off as the word " dying" struck 
 on his half- bewildered brain " dying, indeed 
 Faith, this is excellent. Hah ! hah ! hah ! 
 Who's afraid !" and he broke out into a fierce 
 laugh, while the blood surging upwards to his 
 forehead, gorged the veins there till I thought 
 they would have burst. 
 
 " Mr. Wilde, 1 ' resumed the turnkey, " my 
 duty, however painful, must be performed. 
 Prepare yourself for the worst. You have but 
 two days to live." 
 
 A moment's pause succeeded this awful inti- 
 mation. At length, " CTBlaYney," said Wilde, 
 in a whisper, such as a curse is breathed in, 
 " take my hat off quick quick it binds my 
 temples." 
 
 " Hat, man ! sure you're dreaming. Youv'e 
 got no hat on." But he heard me not. Sense 
 and feeling were alike crushed out, and dashing 
 his doubled fists against his forehead^ he 
 dropped, as if shot clean through the heart.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 267 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A CONFLAGRATION AND AN ESCAPE. 
 
 A FEW days after this sad occurrence, as full 
 of serious and painful thoughts, I was gazing 
 on the stump of the old lime-tree where I- had 
 last seen Wilde seated, I was joined by Mr. 
 Justinian Stubbs, who, observing my melan- 
 choly, said, " Doubtless, Sir, you are thinking 
 of the poor young man who made such a disas- 
 trous exit the other morning. It was a sad 
 business, certainly; but is so far satisfac- 
 tory, inasmuch as it confirms the great philo- 
 sophic axiom, that what will be, will be. Our 
 defunct friend, Sir, was born to be hanged. 
 Often and often did the humble individual who 
 has the honour to address you, delicately hint to 
 
 N2
 
 280 SORROWS OF 
 
 him this ungracious truth ; but the young man, 
 with a thousand estimable, and some few bril- 
 liant qualities, was strangely regardless of all 
 that militated against his own view of a ques- 
 tion. However, I do not blame, I only pity 
 him. It was a shocking case. Do you take 
 snuff?" 
 
 " You would indeed have pitied him, had 
 you witnessed his death." 
 
 " I believe you, Sir ; death is at all times an 
 awkward matter, as I showed, and I flatter my- 
 self, with some success, in my Treatise on the 
 subject. Death, I observed, being the inevitable 
 fulfilment of destiny, it is sheer folly to attempt 
 to retard or deprecate its approach." 
 
 " Poor Wilde !" said I, interrupting the flow 
 of the fatalist's eloquence. 
 
 " You're affected, Sir, I see, and your feel- 
 ings do honour to your heart. Nevertheless, it 
 is as well to bear in mind, that undue feeling is 
 injurious to philosophy, which, after all, is but 
 the perfection of phlegm. Besides," added
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 269 
 
 Justinian, with wonderful composure, " we 
 must all die, you know." 
 
 " True ; and in the majority of cases, death 
 is rather a blessing than a curse ; for what is 
 life, but a synonym for sorrow, and the world 
 itself but a melancholy Mausoleum raised to the 
 memory of blighted hopes and buried loves ?" 
 
 " Mr. O'Blarney," replied the sage, con- 
 descendingly, " permit me to congratulate you 
 on the exceeding eloquence of your last re- 
 mark. I confess I am partial to a striking, 
 conversational style ; it shews character ; but 
 enough of this for the present, Graves is beckon- 
 ing us;" and putting his arm through mine, the 
 fatalist and myself strolled back to our re- 
 spective cells. 
 
 In the course of the evening, while I was 
 still sadly pondering on Wilde's melancholy 
 end, my meditations were put an end to by a 
 tremendous uproar, and the shouts of many 
 hundred voices outside the prison-gates. A 
 few minutes afterwards, the turnkey rushed
 
 270 SORROWS OF 
 
 into my apartment, breathless with astonish- 
 ment and consternation. 
 
 " Hey-day, Mr. Graves," said I, "what's the 
 matter now ? You seem completely at your 
 wit's end." 
 
 " Matter ? Why that Corn Law business 
 has turned all the people's heads, I think. The 
 Radicals have been holding a public meeting 
 this morning about it ; and having broken every 
 window in town, and set fire to the Mayor's 
 house, they have now come up here in a body of 
 eight hundred or a thousand strong ; and swear, 
 if we don't set all the prisoners free, they'll burn 
 the jail down. I'm bless'd, if I know which 
 way to turn." 
 
 " Have you not sufficient force within to beat 
 them off ?" I inquired, and my heart leaped 
 with delight at the probability of my liberation. 
 
 " Force ! Bless your heart, what can force 
 
 do against a hark ! there they go again. 
 
 They're at it now in right arnest." 
 
 Knowing well the innate ferocity of all
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 271 
 
 mobs, I proffered Mr. Graves the most disin- 
 terested advice in my power, by exhorting him 
 at once to throw open the prison-gates ; 
 "otherwise," said I, "you may rely on it your 
 life will be in jeopardy, and it will be but a 
 poor consolation to you, when dangling from 
 the prison wall, to know that you have done 
 your duty. Our first duty is to our own necks. 
 Our second to our country." 
 
 But the man was deaf to my exhortations. 
 " Bless your soul," he argued, " if I were to do 
 as you oh Lord, oh Lord, what shall I do ? 
 Hark , how they're banging away at the gates !" 
 
 " Break open the doors set fire to the jail 
 down with the parson-justices no taxes no 
 corn laws Hunt for ever !" thundered a thou- 
 sand hoarse voices outside the prison walls. 
 
 These shouts were followed up by a terrific 
 attack on the gates. Hammers, brickbats, 
 bludgeons, and huge beams of wood, were all 
 at once pressed into the service of the mob, 
 who cheered each other's progress in the work
 
 272 SORROWS OF 
 
 of destruction by repeated huzzas, which were 
 as loudly replied to by the prisoners. 
 
 In little more than half an hour from the 
 commencement of the assault, the efforts of the 
 rioters were crowned with success. The huge, 
 brazen gates groaned yawned, and finally gave 
 way beneath the rush of an infuriated rabble 
 who poured, like a cataract, into the jail, bear- 
 ing down all before them. 
 
 My apartment, being nearest to the gates, was 
 the first they entered. The turnkey made no 
 opposition indeed from the first he had stood 
 stupified like one bereft of all his faculties 
 but holding forth the keys, mechanically as it 
 were, thrust them into the hands of the fore- 
 most rioter, who acknowledged the receipt by 
 a blow which compelled poor Graves to salute 
 his mother earth. 
 
 To rush out with the keys, unlock all the 
 cells, and then set fire to the jail, were the acts 
 of almost one and the same moment. I pro- 
 fited by the confusion, and forcing my way over
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 273 
 
 neaps of drunken rioters who lay sprawling in 
 all directions, gained at length the exterior of 
 the prison. 
 
 Here the very first person that met my eyes 
 was the sage Justinian, who was engaged in an 
 animated altercation with the Ordinary, whom 
 he had unscrupulously seized hold of by the 
 collar. 
 
 " D n your eyes, you old cove," said the 
 philosopher, surprised for the moment out of 
 his usual dignified equanimity, " tip us your 
 castor, and be quick about it;' 1 with which 
 words he snatched the hat (a shovel of the first 
 water) from the sconce of the astounded eccle- 
 siastic, who had barely time to pronounce his 
 opinion of this act of sacrilege, when he found 
 himself stripped also of his coat. 
 
 " Please your Reverence," snuffled Justinian, 
 while he hastened to invest himself with the 
 Ordinary's coat, and offered his own in lieu of 
 it, " exchange is no robbery. We have warrant 
 for it in scripture. But come, O'Blarney 
 
 N3
 
 274 SORROWS OF 
 
 Scroggins, I should say we have no time to 
 lose," and making a formal obeisance to the 
 parson, who having hastily shoved his hand 
 through the ragged elbows of the fatalist's 
 coat, kept thrusting and driving away with 
 both arms in a state of the most ludicrous irri- 
 tability, we made the best of our way to 
 Humbug, just as the fire began to mount aloft 
 above the prison walls. 
 
 Scarcely had we lost sight of the jail, when 
 the loud, sullen clangour of the alarm-bell con- 
 vinced us that the authorities of Humbug were 
 on the alert. This induced us to pause awhile 
 and arrange our future plans, which we were 
 busily discussing, when we heard a heavy tramp 
 of horse, and presently a squadron of cavalry, 
 with their drawn swords flashing like meteors 
 in the night, came galloping towards us. 
 
 There was no time for flight or concealment. 
 The soldiers were on us in an instant ; on which 
 my companion with admirable readiness address- 
 ing the commander of the troops, who had just
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 275 
 
 halted for the purpose of taking a close survey 
 of our persons, said, " For God's sake, Sirs, 
 be quick, or you will be too late ; the jail 
 is already on fire in every part," and he pointed 
 to where the blazing conflagration towered high 
 up into the sky a vast fiery beacon, seen for 
 miles and miles round the country. 
 
 " Who are you, Sir ?" replied the officer, " I 
 have orders to stop all suspicious persons." 
 
 " Who am I ?" said Justinian with well- 
 feigned surprise, " why, Sir, I am the prison 
 Ordinary, and this is Mr. Graves the turnkey. 
 We have but just effected our escape from the 
 rioters, and are now on our way to Hum- 
 bug." 
 
 " "Enough, Sirs, I have no time to hear 
 more, pass on ;" and giving the word to the 
 soldiers to move forward, the officer put spurs 
 to his horse, and the whole squadron vanished 
 in the direction of the jail. 
 
 As we entered the town, we found fright 
 astonishment despair depicted on every coun-
 
 276 SORROWS OF 
 
 tenance. All the shops were shut ; the lamp- 
 lights in many of the principal streets were 
 smashed ; and in the one large Square (the 
 West End of Humbug) groups of urchins were 
 indulging in minor matters of mischief, pro- 
 portioned to their tender years such as pelt- 
 ing stones at the drawing-room windows, or at 
 the heads which were every now and then thrust 
 out of the upper stories; while more than one 
 special constable, kept in countenance by the 
 solemn parish beadle, who blushed deeper than 
 his scarlet coat at this affront to all legitimate 
 authority, looked tamely on, as if to interfere 
 were to be lithographed. 
 
 When we reached the open space before the 
 Mayor's house, a far more fearful sight was re- 
 vealed to us. The whole building was one enor- 
 mous mass of living fire ; and beneath its lurid 
 light, danced and shouted a band of ghastly, 
 half-naked wretches, in the most frantic state of 
 drunkenness. Others of the rioters, scarce able, 
 from their excesses, to stir hand or foot, lay
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 
 
 
 
 wallowing, like swine, in the middle of the 
 road ; and one, in particular, was stretched 
 right underneath the building, writhing, and 
 shrieking, and blaspheming, like a tortured 
 fiend his teeth clenched, his white, shivering 
 lips apart, and his eyes with a stony stare in 
 them, such as is seen in tombs in a pool of 
 red-hot lead ! 
 
 A groan of horror burst from the mob, as 
 they witnessed this appalling object. " Save 
 him, for God's sake, save him !" was the 
 general cry. But not a soul stirred. Fear 
 had frozen up the faculties of the whole multi- 
 tude. They stood, fixed and spell-bound, like 
 the statues in the Oriental City of the Dead. 
 
 At length one more intrepid than the rest, 
 sprung forward to where the wretch lay con- 
 vulsed in his last agonies ; but scarcely had he 
 made this movement, when a stentorian voice 
 in his rear, shouted out, " Stand back, the roof 
 is falling." The crowd caught up the cry. 
 " The roof is falling," roared out one and all.
 
 278 SORROWS OF 
 
 " See, the walls are giving way. Stand back, 
 Sir, for your life." 
 
 This warning induced the stranger to pause, 
 and casting one brief glance upward at the 
 blazing building, which enabled him to take in 
 the whole extent of his danger, he darted back 
 among the mob, just at the moment when the 
 walls, after tottering and rocking, as if under 
 the action of an earthquake, came down with a 
 crash, involving the whole fabric in their fall. 
 
 Awe-struck at this catastrophe, I hurried 
 forward with Justinian towards the Market- 
 place. On our way thither, at the bend of a 
 dingy, narrow lane, we saw a forlorn, solitary 
 female figure, sitting, with her head buried in 
 her hands, at the door of a small house, beneath 
 the dim glimmer of a lamp. Whatever may 
 be my sang j raid, as far as man is concerned, 
 I cannot pass unmoved a woman in affliction. 
 I halted accordingly, and addressing a few kind 
 words to the poor creature, inquired whether I 
 could render her any service ; but she made me
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN'. 279 
 
 no other reply than a low moan ; on which I 
 was again moving on, when one of the neigh- 
 bours came up; and in answer to my questions, 
 informed me that the mourner was a widow, 
 whose husband had been killed in the forenoon, 
 at the riots before the Guildhall ; and that from 
 the moment his corpse had been brought into 
 her house, she had persisted, despite the in- 
 treaties of her neighbours, in sitting where we 
 now saw her, like one bereft of reason. 
 
 This explanation shot a sudden pang to my 
 heart, for it brought to mind my own wife; while, 
 to give a still more subdued tone to my feelings, 
 I could hear, as I stood listening to it, the merry, 
 in-door laughter of the poor widow's unconscious 
 children. " What a contrast is here," thought 
 I. " Joy riots within, while a fond, warm 
 heart is breaking without ;" and, with a sigh, 
 which I could not for the life of me repress, I 
 left the disconsolate mourner still sitting, appa- 
 rently indifferent to all things, at the door of 
 the house which contained her husband's re-
 
 280 SORROWS OF 
 
 mains, like Memory keeping watch beside the 
 grave of Love. 
 
 A few minutes 1 brisk walking brought us 
 to the Market-place, where some hundreds of 
 men and boys were assembled, listening to, and 
 laughing at, the ravings of a half-witted, reli- 
 gious enthusiast, whom I recollected to have 
 seen occasionally among the debtors in the 
 court-yard of the jail ; and whose imagination, 
 kindled by the scenes he had witnessed during 
 the day, was now venting itself in all sorts of 
 prophetic anathemas. " Woe, woe unto ye !" 
 he exclaimed, " ye Scribes and Pharisees ! Ye 
 have been weighed in the balance, and found 
 wanting. The Hand-writing on the Wall has 
 gone forth against you. Lo, yonder it is, graven 
 in dark characters on God's own palace! 11 and 
 he pointed with his long, lean right arm, to the 
 black body of cloud, which hung, in still air, 
 like a funeral pall above the city. 
 
 He was proceeding in this frantic style, when 
 a small knot of special constables made their
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 281 
 
 appearance, on which the rabble, true to their 
 old instincts, from the days of Jack Cade 
 downwards, scampered off in all directions. 
 Justinian, too, took the hint, and whispering in 
 my ear, " now that the Civil Power is begin- 
 ning to recover its senses, we may as well be 
 cautious," drew nae away from the Market-place 
 into one of the long, dark streets in which 
 Humbug abounds.
 
 282 SORROWS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE FAREWELL. 
 
 JUST as I had passed the memorable Cock-and- 
 Toothpick, which stands at one corner of the 
 Market-place, I saw a carriage, whose dashing 
 panels I at once recognized, turning into the inn- 
 yard, and further on, at about a hundred yards 
 distance, the plump figure of Alderman Snod- 
 grass, who, it was clear, had but just reached 
 Humbug, and was busy receiving information 
 from, and giving directions to, some three or four 
 tradesmen. The unsuccessful M. P. was as full 
 of bustle as ever, talking at the very top of his 
 voice, and turning every now and then a wrath- 
 ful glance in the direction of the prison. 
 
 Though aware of the hazard of accosting my
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 283 
 
 implacable persecutor, I could not resist the 
 temptation, so stood unperceived beneath the 
 shade of an old wall till the gossips had retired, 
 when just as the Alderman was following, I 
 stepped forward, and making him the pro- 
 foundest of bows, addressed him as follows : 
 " I am most happy, Mr. Snodgrass, in this 
 opportunity of again meeting with a gentleman 
 whose discernment and generosity of spirit 
 have, no doubt, taught him by this time to do 
 me justice. I hope, Sir, all the members of 
 your excellent family are well ; and that the 
 
 fair Miss Maria but excuse my enlarging 
 
 at present on this delicate topic ; it is my in- 
 tention to pay my respects to the young lady 
 to-morrow, when I trust that my modesty may 
 not again prove a bar to my good fortune. You 
 look well, Mr. Snodgrass, whence I conclude 
 that the little unpleasantnesses of the election 
 are already forgotten, and above all that affair 
 
 of the Five per " 
 
 During all this time the Alderman had stood
 
 SORROWS OF 
 
 like one bewildered ; but no sooner had I men- 
 tioned the words " Five per Cents" than the 
 blood rushed /to his face, and he gave vent to 
 his astonishment and wrath in such broken sen- 
 tences as " Well, I never Gracious heavens, 
 is it possible ? Prodigious impudence ! But 
 you shall not escape me this time;" and seizing 
 me by the collar, he endeavoured to drag me 
 back to the inn -yard, when I freed myself 
 from his grasp, while Justinian, who was but a 
 few dozen yards in advance, attracted by the 
 scuffle, turned back to offer me his aid. 
 
 His presence did not in the slightest de- 
 gree daunt Mr. Snodgrass, who swore he 
 would not rest satisfied till he had again seen 
 me consigned over to justice, hurling in his 
 passion a thousand coarse epithets, such as 
 " rogue, swindler, vagabond," 1 in my teeth ; 
 whereupon seeing a raw-looking constable a few 
 yards a-head, I requested Justinian to prevent 
 the Alderman's escape, and running up to the 
 man, said " Are you a stranger to Humbug ?" 
 
 I
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 285 
 
 " Eez I be, I war only swore in this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " Well then follow me, I want you to take 
 charge of a suspicious character." 
 
 The man obeyed my commands, which were 
 given with an air of authority, and when we 
 reached the spot where the Alderman was still 
 struggling in Justinian's grasp, I said, pointing 
 towards him " Arrest that man. This gen- 
 tleman and myself have proof that he is one of 
 the incendiaries who set fire to the jail." 
 
 The constable instantly laid fast hold of Mr. 
 Snodgrass, who roared out Hold off, villain, or 
 you shall pay dearly for this assault. Do you 
 know who I am ? v 
 
 " Eez, jou be one of the incendiaries like." 
 " Rascal, I am Alderman Snodgrass, a 
 county magistrate." 
 
 " A loikely story, faith," said the constable, 
 leering at me with a knowing wink. 
 
 " Alderman Snodgrass !" said I, " how dare
 
 286 SORROWS OP 
 
 you use the name of that much respected in- 
 dividual ! Take him away, constable." 
 
 " Ay, away with him," said Justinian, who 
 saw at once the real state of the case, u away 
 with him to the watch-house, and we will follow 
 and give evidence against him. Alderman 
 Snodgrass indeed ! What should a person 
 of his rank want wandering alone at midnight 
 in this suspicious manner ?" 
 
 During this brief discussion, Mr. Snodgrass 
 kept struggling and vowing vengeance against 
 all three of us ; but the more he roared, the 
 tighter hold the clodhopper kept of him ; until 
 at length, despite his magisterial dignity, I had 
 the satisfaction of seeing him safely walked off 
 to the watch-house. 
 
 For appearance's sake we followed the con- 
 stable and his prisoner for a few minutes, but 
 when we came within sight of the inn we gave 
 them both the slip, and turning down a narrow, 
 arched passage were instantly lost to sight in 
 the gloom
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 287 
 
 After threading a variety of lanes and alleys, 
 we reached a low, dingy brick building, with a 
 square court-yard before it, at the end of which 
 a solitary lamp was burning. Here making 
 a sudden halt, " My friend," said the phi- 
 losopher solemnly, " do you see yon edifice ?'' 
 
 " Yes, what of it ? It looks like a lock-up 
 house." 
 
 " A what ?" replied Justinian, drawing him- 
 self up with an air of hauteur, " a lock-up 
 house ? Sir, that building, meanly as you may 
 be pleased to think of it, is neither more nor 
 less than the celeb rated Humbug Charity school! 
 Within the walls of that edifice the obscure in- 
 dividual before you first projected his Treatise 
 on Destiny. I am a total stranger to literary 
 vanity as dohbtless you have long since per- 
 ceived but I certainly do pique myself on the 
 composition of an essay which has for its sub- 
 lime object the overthrow of all existing social 
 abuses, and the introduction of a more en-
 
 288 SORROWS OF 
 
 lightened code of ethics. Hail, consecrated 
 fabric, within whose " 
 
 His meditations were here abruptly put 
 an end to by a cry of " Stop thief !" 
 which proceeded from the upper end of the 
 street, and was followed by a crowd of boys 
 and men, who came rushing forward in the 
 direction where we stood. This ominous in- 
 terruption wrought the same talismanic effect 
 on Justinian's nerves that the invectives of 
 Cicero wrought on Cataline. His enthusiasm 
 was below zero in an instant. Abiit excessit 
 evasit erupit ! In plain English, he bolted. 
 
 In vain I conjured him to stop, assuring him 
 that there was no cause for apprehension. The 
 more nimbly I cried " Stop," the more nimbly 
 he shot forward ; while I, though a far better 
 hand at running, could with difficulty keep up 
 with him, such an impetus had fear given to his 
 muscles, and so completely was I convulsed 
 with laughter.
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 289 
 
 Away he flew up this street, down that 
 and whenever he shewed symptoms of flagging, 
 I kept him at full speed by maliciously crying 
 out, "On, on ! they're just behind us. 11 Having 
 at length cleared the town, he stopped an instant 
 to draw breath ; when, suddenly looking be- 
 hind me, I again exclaimed with affected dis- 
 may, that the constables were close at our heels. 
 " Oh Lord !" cried the philosopher, perspiring 
 like an Alderman in the dog-days ; " it's all 
 over with me, so I may as well die here." 
 
 " Nonsense, man ; I tell you we must run 
 for it." 
 
 " Run for it ! Ah ! it's very well for you to 
 talk of running ; but for me, with this weight 
 
 of however, I suppose there's no help for 
 
 it, 1 ' and he made one more desperate effort, 
 when, having reached the high-road, he shot 
 across it, and thence head-foremost, through a 
 quick-set hedge, into some secluded meadows, 
 a few hundred yards to the rear of Humbug. 
 Here, halting to wipe the perspiration from 
 VOL. i. o
 
 290 SORROWS OF 
 
 his forehead, he was beginning to pour forth his 
 plaintive lamentations, when a spectacle pre- 
 sented itself, which, for the moment, banished 
 every other consideration from his mind. This 
 was no other than the full, unimpeded view 
 the first time we had yet witnessed it in all 
 its sublimity of the blazing prison; which, 
 notwithstanding that the night was black as the 
 raven's wing, yet brought out every house, tree, 
 hedge, and barn, throughout the neighbourhood, 
 as distinctly as if it had been mid-day. For an 
 instant, all would be gloom, as volume after 
 volume of smoke swept across the sky ; and 
 then, a broad, red, uninterrupted column of 
 light, would shoot high up into the bloody at- 
 mosphere, till the very clouds themselves seemed 
 on fire. Even from the spot where we stood, 
 we could hear the hiss and roar of the mighty 
 conflagration ; blended at intervals with the 
 heavy rumbling of the engines ; the clang of at 
 least a dozen alarm-bells ; and the shouts of the 
 rioters, who, as the blazing billows surged up-
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 291 
 
 wards, and spread over an airy reach of miles, 
 made the welkin ring again with their huzzas. 
 
 After gazing our full on this terrific spectacle, 
 Justinian, who had by this time partially reco- 
 vered his wind, seated himself on a hillock, and 
 began to moralize on the subject. " A fire,' 
 said he, " taking a long, solemn pinch of snuff, 
 "is a fine theme for philosophic contemplation. 
 I recognize in it the principle of good strug- 
 gling with that of evil. See, the firemen are 
 endeavouring to put it out. They are the re- 
 presentatives of bigotry, who are interested in 
 stifling the blaze of truth. But it will triumph, 
 in spite of them ; for what will be, will be." 
 
 " But you don't take into consideration thr 
 poor wretches who have lost their lives in the 
 flames." 
 
 Young man, my philanthropy, I say it with 
 honest pride, is altogether on a comprehensive 
 scale. I sympathize with humanity in the ag- 
 gregate, not in the particular ; for so long as so- 
 ciety continues in its present sophisticated state, 
 grounding the laws that regulate meum and
 
 292 SORROWS OF 
 
 tuum on the shifting sands of conventional 
 opinion, instead of on the immutable rock of in- 
 stinct so long will it be the duty of those 
 who, like myself, cherish virtue for its own 
 sake, to suspend their sympathies for indi- 
 viduals, in order to devote them exclusively to 
 the interests of the mass." 
 
 I could with difficulty repress a smile while 
 the philosopher made these remarks ; he made 
 them with such sublime fervour of manner 
 and intonation. One is prepared to meet with 
 animation in the young ; but to see a fat, 
 middle-aged man enthusiastic, is as novel and 
 grotesque a sight as would be that of a prize- 
 ox starting at Epsom for the Derby. 
 
 Justinian was proceeding still further with 
 his sage speculations, when finding that I was 
 beginning to get a little ennuied, he adroitly 
 changed the theme, and lowering his lofty tone, 
 said, " My friend, pardon the suddenness of my 
 resolution, but I must here bid you farewell. 
 Fain would I proceed, but a certain twitching 
 in the calves of my legs to say nothing of my
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 293 
 
 ribs, which ache, just as if I had been pum- 
 melled with a dozen bludgeons warns me that 
 I must either sink with fatigue, or make the 
 best of my way back to Humbug. Will you 
 accompany me ?" 
 
 " Never ! the alternative is too hazardous. 1 ' 
 " Oh, as to that, so far as I am concerned, I 
 feel convinced notwithstanding my late unac- 
 countable panic, which I attribute rather to a 
 deranged state of the nervous system, than to 
 any inherent lack of moral fortitude that this 
 disguise will afford me quite sufficient protec- 
 tion, while you " 
 
 " 'Tis of no use talking, Mr. Stubbs ; my re- 
 solve is taken." 
 
 " And whither does your destiny lead you ?" 
 ' I know not : possibly to South Wales, 
 which is easiest of access from this neighbour- 
 hood, where I shall remain secluded till my late 
 adventures are forgotten. Bad as it is, I have 
 no other resource left. A licentious Press has 
 ruined me for ever in this neighbourhood."
 
 294 SORROWS OF 
 
 " Arcadian simplicity ! The idea is not amiss 
 in theory, but defective, I fear, in " 
 
 "Practice. Possibly so; but, to say the 
 truth, I am sick to death of all literary and po- 
 litical turmoil ; so, for a season or two, I shall 
 content myself with peeping at the world through 
 4 the loop-holes of retreat. 1 I have been an active 
 agent long enough. I now intend to become a 
 mere passive spectator of other men's doings." 
 
 " Farewell, then," said Justinian, grasping 
 me fervently by the hand ; " not a moment is to 
 be lost so, farewell, my friend, for ever ! A 
 few days since, and I] could have borne our 
 parting with indifference; but now forgive 
 the starting tear I feel the man triumph over 
 the philosopher," and he applied the Or- 
 dinary's handkerchief to his eyes. 
 
 I was not a little astonished at this pathetic 
 ebullition ; but, before I had time to recover 
 myself, Justinian, who had marked my emotion, 
 continued : 
 
 " I see my sensibility surprises you and no
 
 A BASHFUL IRISHMAN. 295 
 
 wonder, I am not apt to be thus overcome ; 
 but the truth is, my young friend, from the 
 very first moment we met, there was a certain 
 something about you that irresistibly won my 
 affection !" 
 
 " You are pleased to be complimentary, Mr. 
 Stubbs." 
 
 " No ; I am too sad to be insincere. I 
 thought I could sympathize only with the many. 
 Alas, I feel I have a tear for the one. But 
 I hear footsteps : let us hide ourselves," and, 
 accordingly, we both squatted down under 
 the hedge, till a ploughman, who was mounted 
 on a huge dray-horse, had galloped past us; 
 when we ventured forth from our hiding-place, 
 and the philosopher, after again bidding me 
 farewell, and straining me to his breast, in what 
 he called " a long and last embrace," hurried 
 back, as fast as his legs would carry him, to 
 Humbug. 
 
 No sooner was he out of sight, than a strange 
 presentiment flashing across my mind, I plunged
 
 296 SORROW'S OF 
 
 my hand into my coat-pocket, and found that 
 this accomplished rascal, while busy hugging 
 me in his arms, had actually found means to 
 elope with my pocket-book ! I have detested 
 the word " philosophy" ever since ! 
 
 But other ideas soon diverted my attention. 
 Just as I turned to pursue my solitary route, 
 the church clock of St. Laurence struck 
 twelve: and while I yet stood, listening with in- 
 voluntary awe to the echo of the last stroke as 
 it rolled away in distance, a wild yell of exul- 
 tation caught my ear, and instantly the prison- 
 walls fell in with a tremendous crash, while 
 millions of sparkles, followed by a dense body 
 of smoke that blackened the entire firmament, 
 announced that the work of destruction was con- 
 summated. Such was the joyous illumination 
 that ushered in the passing of the Corn Laws. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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