'Why, then, I'll just tell you, if you sit down, and make yourself comfortable, and let other Christian wayfarers do that same, without molestation," answered our minister of legation.

"There are certain flowery and sunny spots of neutral ground," said he, "in all civilized warfare, on which the most violent enemies can shake hands and agree. You would not be called savages, would you, and disgrace the land of your birth, which used to be called "The Island of Saints?" (Loud cries of " No, no!" from the speaker's own friends.) The outposts of the French and English in the Peninsular War held friendly converse, and exchanged favours - by which I mean liquors, of course very often. Such trifling cessation of hostilities was not deemed inconsistent with the honour of arms, nor did it cause either party to relax their efforts in the hour of battle. Even in civil war-the most savage which it is the melancholy duty of the historic muse to record - her name is Clio, gentlemen,- such things are read of. The night before the battle of the Boyne the Irish and English soldiers on either side of the river flung their leather bottles across to each other, exchanging Old Tom, or perhaps Old Hollands - remembering Schomberg and his Dutchmen - for good old potheen whiskey. I think I might venture to say who had the advantage in that exchange; as in most other friendly cases, Paddy no doubt managed, with his usual luck, to come off second best. Never mind that; he showed his good feeling and "purty behaviour;" which I hope every gentleman present on both sides of the Boyne, or the Barrow, more correctly speaking, will feel himself bound to evince, exhibit, and manifest, on the present occasion."

Loud cheers from all sides and a flood of good-humour followed this brief and well-planted appeal. The next instant we were all accommodated with seats at the board, the gentleman who had been sitting as vice' opposite the lawyer yielding his place to the only man of title amongst us, and insisting on Kilmallock occupying the post of honour, in order to place both parties on equal terms. His Lordship took his seat; and we all started fair at the work of demolition, my lord playing first-fiddle. After breakfast, according to the custom of the country and the times, we proceeded to soothe the feelings of the fierce democracy, from the balcony in front of the inn. Our leader, of course, spoke first, pitching into everybody and everything opposed to him; roasting the Whigs; basting the Tories; sparing the Ponsonbies on nobody's account, and least of all on his own. In conclusion, he compared Ireland as she was to the demon chorus of spirits in the air in Der Freischutz, or Martin's picture of the Deluge, and Ireland as she ought to be to one of Rubens' allegorical paintings.

A very young gentleman was then put forward, whose forte was foreign politics, upon which he was "all abroad," and Latin quotations, most of them of a very trite description, which he had always at hand, being just red-hot from the College anvil. He proceeded in this respect on the well-known principle of the "omnia ignola pro magnifico," which is not "mighty grand, mighty stuff," but quite the reverse.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," (the aspiring youth began his address to the red cloaks and frieze coats below,) "you have had your attention directed to home matters and things domestic by my illustri

ous and most excellent friend, who has just appealed to the bosoms of the fair and the hearts of the brave,—a man of whom we may say 'Omnibus artibus et disciplinis instructus atque ornatus,' (cheers, and cries of "grand !") and I have no doubt that the noble lord on my left, who, if the friends of the people ever get into power, is to be Secretary of State for the Home Department, will expatiate on them with all that sublimity of fancy, os sublime dedit,' 'naturâ proni atque dediti ventri,' and all that magniloquence for which he is all-famous, called by the rhetoricians the ore rotundo.'

6

"Conticuere omnes intentique ora tenebant.'

The County-Kerry men speak with their mouths wide open.' (whirlwinds of applause and tornadoes of laughter.) And the Limerick men, too, whose rounded periods are proverbial, might in this instance with safety be added. (Lively sensation.) Then look we abroad and see what our rulers have to expect. See America! Didn't England lose America by her injustice? (hear, hear!) didn't the people of that proud country of the star-spangled banner and the stripes of liberty remonstrate with Pitt Quousque tandem abutêre, Catilina, patientiâ nostrâ? (cheers,) how long will you aggravate us? said they; but he went on until 'picture to yourself, Mr. Speaker,'-I'll not quote Edmund Burke's celebrated speech upon the matter, although he was an Irishman-you know the resultyou all know the glorious fate of the Americans? (Cries of "We do-bad luck to them!) Look at what the French did the other day in the regard of a revolution- discite justitiam, moniti.' England had better mind what she's about. (Hear, hear! and cheers for "Mounseer.") And the Belgians, too-a nice bit of a revolution that Horum omnium fortissimi sunt Belgæ," (cheers,)-the Belgians that ran away from Waterloo! And so would somebody else if the Prussians had not come up. I'll not say a word about Grouchy; he sold the pass, you know,-vendidit auro hic patriam,' (cheers, and shouts of "long life to him!") And what are we about? (Here the rest of the deputation interposed, and the head Pacificator looked volumes at the fiery young orator, who thought himself at the moment a second Alcibiades.) I don't allude to physical force-not I; I allude to steam, and the steam-press ; mind will beat matter yet. I'll never despair, so long as the people provide us with the sinews of war to combat their enemies. Never say die while there's a shot in the locker. Nunquam dic 'moriar' dum restat nummus in arcâ.' (Cheers loud and long-continued.) What shall I say about Russia? I'll not talk of Russian oil or tallow, but I'll mourn over the fate of hapless Poland. (Great sensation.) That was a nice affair at Navarino,- O navis! referent in mare te novi fluctus,' (cries of "shame!" and "to the divil with the Turks!") And what is the consequence? The Russian guns are thundering on the Bosphorus! (Roars of applause, after which there was a long pause, the speaker looking very much bewildered, and evidently on the verge of breaking down.)-Where was I?

A voice in the crowd-" On the Phosphorus, your honour." That joke settled my hash. I shrunk into my shell, and made way for Kilmallock, who came in front of the balcony.

"Whilst my friend, do you see," said his Lordship, in that splendid Doric accent for which he is so much admired, especially by the

fair sex, "is recreating himself in the seraglio of the Sultan, which, ladies and gentlemen, looks into the beautiful and classic stream he has mentioned, or is swimming about in it with Hero and Leander, I'll tell you a little story about something that happened on the banks of the Shannon. We had a county election for Limerick a few years ago, and about three dozen voters, who were going on cars to plump for the wrong man, and stopped to wet their whistles at the head inn in a little town not far from the city. A brat of a boy, without anybody telling him, stole the linch-pins out of the cars while the gentlemen were drinking their dandies of punch. When they paid for their liquor like honest men, and got up to go on, at the first roll of the wheels they were all picking one another up out of the dirt. Not a man of them ever voted; for they took so long to get all set right again, that they arrived at Limerick when the election was over. (Cheers and laughter.) Now, why do I mention that shameful and unconstitutional occurrence? Because I don't want you to do the same thing with those cars and chaises that are drawn up at the door there, waiting for so many worthy gentlemen, who are all in a hurry to get to Kilkenny to vote against the Colonel before the poll closes. I see a wicked thief of a gossoon scratching his red head on the top of a post-chaise there, that looks villain enough to steal all the linch-pins in a coach-factory. I warn him to mind what I am saying; and I tell that fellow and all who hear me not to draw one of those linch-pins, for we have nothing to say to physical force or unfair dealing."

"Gaelic-a-tu?"* shouted the Dougal cratur on the coach-top. "Bethershin mawthereen-rue!"† responded the lord. His Lordship then went off, for full twenty minutes, in a gallop of the old vernacular; and a great deal of what he really did say I never could understand from that day to this. This much, however, we all very soon understood,—that his mandate about the linch-pins, given of course in sincerity, was disregarded. They were all drawn, and Ponsonby's voters had to wait full two hours before their vehicles were set right and straight, and sent on the reel for Kilkenny. Another hour's delay, and they had arrived too late at the pollingbooths. They were about four dozen in number, and, as well as my memory serves me, when polled, their candidate was returned by a majority of forty.

We arrived safe in Kilkenny, and in Dublin afterwards, notwithstanding the Kilkenny festivities. We were not the boys for wry faces after a defeat, nor dry throttles

-not we.

"When all but life and honour's lost."

Moral.

There is a moral in all this-or there is not, as the logicians say. If there is, it is perhaps in the noble Earl's title, which was conferred upon him by his illustrious namesake in a moment of convivial hilarity, for prodigies of service, which the young aspirant to political fame performed at the great Clare election; but which title his lordship enjoys, without "the golden wherewithal" which makes even a dukedom doubly sweet. Perhaps the moral may be in the Head Pacificator's veteran military surtout, which he put on in the • Have you, Irish? + Wait a while, fox (or red dog).

cause of Spanish liberty more than twenty years ago, and wears to this day, without having turned it once. Perhaps it is in his epitaph, which I shall now write for him against the period when he shall have lived forty years more, for the benefit of his friends, and as long as he likes afterwards.

Here lies

HONEST TOM STEELE.
He was not

The First Irishman

who in the service of

OTHERS

lived and died

Poor;

nor was he destined to be

The Last.

Requiescat Pacificator in pace!

Perhaps the moral may be in that which has stuck closely to another of the party through every turn-up and vicissitude since the eventful period when it was new-his old great-coat. Although it cannot vie in antiquity or distinction with Tom's trocadero, and is, moreover, of a civilian cut, it is, nevertheless, not unworthy of the Muse's kind consideration.

INVOCATION TO ERINNA.

ERINNA was a Greek poetess, the contemporary and countrywoman of Sappho Meleager, in his Garland, assigns to her the crocus as her emblem, on account of its maiden paleness, as in Cymbeline,

“The flower that 's like thy face, pale primrose."

When but sweet seventeen, Frinna

"Left this world of sorrow and pain,

And returned to the land of thought again."